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jjenthusee · 2 months ago

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Racing Hearts Pt. 4

f1!driver!jason x reporter!reader

A/N: hello my gremlins <3 i wanted to share with u guys that i successfully moved YAY so that explains the update being slightly behind and the less responses i’ve given to comments (i read them all i swear <3) BUT HERE IT IS \(^o^)/ i took way too long to edit and rewrite the way i believe the story should go, im having so much fun with this series and i want to thank all of u who are supporting it from the beginning or saw the updates as they came. ENJOY the fourth chapter of the Racing Hearts series (ALSO THERE’S 300 FOLLOWERS WOW 🥹 THANK U TO ALL THE PEOPLE THAT LIKE MY PAGE AND CONTINUE TO SUPPORT MY CRAZY SAD WRITING AND MY DRAWINGS i love reading your funny comments, unhinged reblogs, and talking about your favorite parts of the story, it really gave me the push to write and contribute to the jason todd community) and i just wanted to remind yall…i haven’t forgotten about that hurt/comfort tag :)

Check out the Racing Hearts masterlist! It shows all the updated chapters and upcoming ones <3

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, spicy if u squint, we’re hitting halfway thru the story so let me introduce what i do best…angst HAHAHA

Word Count: 4.1k

“In all of my career, I have to say that I never thought I would be standing here wearing…these.” Jason looked down to his feet.

The camera focused on the two of you standing next to one another, the lens following Jason’s stare toward the ground. The camera woman zooming in on the bright red Lightning McQueen crocs he was wearing.

You sheepishly admired the shoes, proudly smiling back up to Jason. Bewilderment plastered on his face as he couldn’t believe you actually gifted him Lightning McQueen merch, not even in private but in an interview with multiple cameras pointed at him.

What a predicament he was in. He was definitely not offended when you told him how similar the red car and he were.

“It’s a small thanks from the company for completing your third interview with us.” You smiled brightly at Jason. “Also consider it as a way for us to say ‘good luck’ for your upcoming season.”

Jason couldn’t believe it as he laughed. No matter how much time he spent with you, you always surprised him in the best ways.

“Y’know, I thought the Cars jokes were going to fade out, but you’re a bad influence on my fans.” Jason lightheartedly teased you, stomping his foot enough to let the crocs light up.

You fought a straight face, holding in laughter and trying to stay as serious as you could, but you were about to break any second. You bit the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from smiling, internally promising yourself that you would make sure to get a picture of him later.

You already had his new contact picture picked out.

“I couldn’t think of any other way of showing you my support.” You nodded your head proudly.

“Really? Nothing else?” Jason’s eyebrow rose, his tone sarcastic.

“You’re the best F1 driver I’ve ever interviewed.” You smirked, watching the shoes sparkle.

“I’m the only F1 driver you’ve ever interviewed.” Jason looked at you in disbelief.

“Anyway! We’re closing this as the last part of our series, I’m glad you were able to be a guest before you get busy putting on the RedBull uniform again, I know your fans will really enjoy that—” You wrapped up the finale, finalizing the last public appearance the two of you would have next to each other. A bittersweet ending.

But you always had the Jason laying with you on your couch. Feeding each other dinners, taking motorcycle rides late in the night.

“This can’t be the last time I see you. You’re my favorite interviewer.” Jason lulled his voice, rephrasing your earlier comment back at you. “After all, you gifted me something so…special.”

You paused, shocked at Jason’s forwardness with you, the timber of his voice adding an underlying flirty tone to him.

You’ve never talked to him about the public appearance about the two of you. Could you go public?

It’s for the camera. You silently told yourself.

“You have to win for me to see you again.” You smirked, quickly playing along with his attempt to fluster you.

“That’s too easy, you could try to make this a little harder for me.” Jason chuckled lowly. “It’s almost like you want to see me.”

Oh my.

“So much talk for someone who hasn’t started his comeback season.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “You also didn’t start your last season smoothly, so don’t talk so confidently.”

“But who sat at my last press conference celebrating my win? I don’t end things so easily.” Jason tilted his head as he looked down at you, tension increasing. “I’ll come back when I win, it’ll be our little secret.”

Jason winked at you, the cameras focused in on his face and your reactions.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher between the RedBull Jason on camera and your Jason.

He was his playful self, the signature half smirk trying to get you to blush, but his eyes were soft when he glanced over to you.

You calmly gave in, maybe it was for the camera or maybe it was for you.

“Aw, that’s so sweet, but I don’t think I could keep that a secret.” Your polite smile opposing Jason’s mischievous one. “I don’t think you realize but,” you leaned toward Jason, pausing to eye his figure up and down, gleefully watching him pay attention to your every word. Your smile getting wider at how easily he was wrapped around your finger. “I’m a reporter, I can’t keep that beautiful face to myself.”

“But I’m really good at keeping them.” Jason stepped closer, eyes never leaving yours.

His eyes beamed a playful hue to them.

You cleared your throat, looking at the camera woman who also stared in awe.

Crap, the office was going to get suspicious.

“You should focus on winning first before you make any promises.” You coughed, diffusing the atmosphere Jason created as the film crew watched. “Then call my business number and you don’t have to keep any secrets.”

Once the camera stopped rolling, you resumed your professionalism. Saying goodbyes and getting final pictures for the website and both social medias.

All the previous interviews went well. The fans saw Jason’s personality in action, gaining more attention and love for the racer. Jason’s management team was satisfied with you and the attraction he was gaining before the season started.

It gave him the right press he needed to put him in the spotlight.

After Jason left with his management team, you finalized the video upload that his company agreed to. Your draft for a new article about Jason to be edited and reviewed for the upcoming week. It was business as usual.

Getting work done during the day, then meeting Jason for the evening.

When you got back to your desk, you organized yourself to overlook the release date for the final interview and reviewed for the next big project to tackle now that your work with Jason was finished. Multiple meetings with project managers and your team.

Work was picking up for you, managing larger projects, interacting with larger faces.

Jason lit the hallway to opportunities for you.

Your phone lit up next to your laptop, distracting you from one screen to another.

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: pick you up at 6?

You smiled to yourself. Happy, but bittersweet.

You reminded yourself that Jason’s off-season was ending. You wished time could slow down.

—— “Gosh, you’re so clumsy.” You adjusted Jason’s helmet. All the time spent with him reflected in your familiarity with the motorcycle helmet.

“Only for you.” Jason stood there, leaning down to let you reach around his head. Watching you worry about the two of you.

Jason had kept his promise to pick you up.

Most of the time he waited on you to get back from work. Sometimes pushing the boundaries and secretly meeting you for a quick lunch. Meeting him far from where your coworkers frequented.

Your first encounters were hidden behind the idea of work, finding answers to questions for interviews, or suggesting new places to eat.

It was like you couldn’t be apart from one another.

Oh, how you can change a man.

You let Jason fake his ignorance through certain tasks, giving him any reason to get you close to him.

But you gave into his every attempt. Not fighting against his clinginess.

Your roles would switch soon, he wouldn’t wait for you after tiring days of work. You would have to watch him race lap after lap on live television like the rest of the world.

He was leaving soon, you knew he would be busy, it was inevitable, but you wanted as much time before he left.

You sat behind Jason, his body warming the front of you as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

Holding onto him close, wearing the helmet he got you, feeling his solid stomach shift the motorcycle as you rode around the city. You were getting used to your new lifestyle, despite the hidden secrets you shared.

He couldn’t announce a relationship after you were waiting for the last installment of your interviews.

The timing wasn’t right and the meetings this would cause for you and Jason were going to give you a headache.

You heard the motorcycle engine interrupt your thoughts.

Jason slowing at a red light. He stopped, placing his feet on the ground to stabilize the two of you while you waited. The red glow reflected onto Jason sitting in front of you.

The streets were almost empty. Gotham barely waking to the darkness, a city that never sleeps.

“Jay.” You hesitated behind him.

“Hm?” Jason unconsciously acknowledged, resting his hand over yours around his stomach. Rubbing the fabric of his gloves onto yours.

“I want to stay with you longer.” You calmed your voice, careful in verbalizing your feelings.

“You want to drive around more? I think we can drive by—“ Jason continued to rub your wrists. Cars passing in front of him, the opposing traffic keeping you still.

“No, I don’t want to leave you tonight.”

Jason paused, his hand resting on yours, no longer moving. If the cars weren’t in front of you, crossing the intersection, you would have thought time was frozen.

Jason tilted his helmet back, to get a look at you.

You don’t know what he was looking for, your face covered by a protective helmet like his was, but he found what he needed when the light turned green.

It was green, but you stayed there, no other traffic surrounding you.

Just you and Jason.

“Want to come to my place?” Jason kept his black visor on you. “I have a killer TV to watch Cars on.”

You chuckled. Squeezing his waist a little more.

“Better have a good speaker for playing Life is a Highway.”

Jason smirked, hidden from your eyes as he watched you lean back into his warmth.

The humid air covering the two of you into summer clothing. Thinner fabrics and showing more skin.

Jason wore a simple fitted thin long-sleeve, matching the look of his helmet and gloves. It made a great view of his broad back.

A quiet exhale as he looked forward again, revving his engine to life to make a quick turn, opposite of your home.

You were racing the rain as Jason was taking you back, but after you spoke the magic words, how could he send you back home?

The dark summer rain clouds were no longer behind you, the two of you heading straight for them as you watch Jason take you down new streets, an unfamiliar path to Jason’s place.

“I don’t think you’ll make it to the living room before then.” Jason quietly spoke to the light drizzle hitting your bodies

“What did you say?” You couldn’t hear above the engine.

And he was right.

After you were soaked to the bone, fabric sticking to your form, water droplets falling down your skin. A glossy sheen from the harsh rain falling all around you.

Jason had pulled into his garage.

He was in the same state, wet clothes stuck to his skin. The water from you and the motorcycle dripping onto the concrete floor.

You pulled your helmet off, the only dry place.

Once Jason parked the bike, he took off his helmet, placing it on the nearest work table. Your body shivered as you threw your leg over to maneuver yourself off.

You looked down at your state, smiling in disbelief at being caught in the rain.

Maybe you could wear Jason’s clothes after a nice warm shower. You internally thought to yourself. Excited to enter Jason’s place. A new location unlocked.

When you put your helmet next to Jason’s, you could finally take in all of him.

Black shirt tight from the weight of the water, his hands littered with scars, free from the gloves. His hair dry, but messy.

All his muscles more prominent.

You stood in awe, your chest rising from the breaths you took. Humid air invading the inside of the garage, elevated from warm summer nights.

The sight of Jason reminded you of the professional pictures taken of him, leaving his Formula 1 car after a race. He was sweaty, running his hands through his hair with a towel in hand.

After all the time you spent together, it was your favorite photo of him. You secretly saved it because there was something about the look on his face, happy to win, alive on the track.

How attractive he looked was a definite bonus in your opinion.

Jason glanced over to you, finally realizing the state the two of you were in. He slowly looked you up and down, lost in the same visual you were in awe of once you saw him.

You suddenly remembered the last time you and Jason were enclosed in a garage, close to each other, messy from a hard day of distributing winter jackets and food to those who stopped by.

A slight warmth increasing on your face.

Jason stepped closer to you, hands grabbing for your waist to pull you in. His hands reaching under your chin to stretch your neck to adjust to his height.

Breaths mixing as your lips touched only from the movement of your lips unconsciously opening, ready to kiss him.

He waited.

Letting the pressure build as he spoke.

“There’s no volunteers to interrupt us now.” Jason lifted you, letting you sit on the surface of his work table. His arm swooping everything off as he cleared enough room for you.

You could hear objects fall, but you couldn’t care less as Jason stepped between your legs. Quickly, but carefully rubbing at your legs with his palms, his hands getting closer to the blurs of where your thighs met your waist.

Everywhere felt great that you didn’t know where to focus.

The feeling of your lips, your sides, his body between your legs?

You could only huff between the intensity he was igniting in you.

“Jay—inside—it’s cold.”

Despite your words, you didn’t bother to move. You kept touching, feeling everything before Jason lifted you again, the placement of his hands as he carried you, lifting the edges of your shirt.

The feeling of a mattress beneath you as you uncomfortably tried to peel the clothing off your body.

Jason chuckled at your frustration. You couldn’t bother to give him a snide remark as he also struggled to get your soaked clothes off.

When lifting the shirt didn’t work, you tried rolling the fabric, but it only bunched just below your sleeves.

You could only laugh as Jason desperately tried to get the shirt through your arms. Tangled in the mess you both created that you were left with a heavy shirt stuck around your biceps.

“Why is there always something stopping me from seeing all of you?” Jason laughed as he kneeled above you, his shirt completely off at some point along the way to his room.

“I don’t think a pair of wet clothes are going to stop you now.” You smiled at him, glancing up at his figure through the darkness. Only the city lights creeping through the blinds, illuminating his skin.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Jason yanked your entire shirt off your arms.

You sucked in a breath at his desperation, memorizing the look of his face as he leaned down closer.

“I want to turn you into a mess.” He whispered into your mouth, kissing down your body.

Overwhelming gasps and breaths left your mouth the more he touched your skin.

“I want to touch you too.” You exhaled, trying to coherently express yourself.

“Next time, sweetheart. I want to focus on you. Everything I want is you.” Jason moved your hair out of your face, stuck from the sweat covering your skin.

The night filled with you repeating Jason’s name, no distractions keeping that man off of you.

After a shared warm shower, Jason gave you a nice pair of his dry clothes. You walked around his place, relaxed after Jason’s…expertise.

What you weren’t prepared for was just how normal his apartment looked. It felt like yours, but bigger, a little more luxurious like it was bought with the intention of having better quality to last longer.

You hoped he had no plans of moving anytime soon.

You stood in the kitchen in awe.

“You have a kitchen island.” You whistled in excitement. “Formula 1 money is good, huh? Maybe I need to pick up a Redbull uniform.”

Jason chuckled, hugging you from behind smelling like the same soap in your hair, his face nuzzling into your neck. You continued to speak.

“No, I can’t steal your fame.” You whispered to yourself. Jason feeling the vibration of your voice the longer he leaned into your neck.

“I’m happy you’re here.” Jason mumbled into you, ignoring everything you said.

“Me too, I’ve been curious where you live.”

“I invited you before, but I guess we’ve always gone to your place.” Jason smiled into your skin. “What do you think?”

“Its very…Jason. I like it.” You glanced around.

You more than liked it. It smelt like Jason. A smell you’ll never grow tired of.

His apartment was slightly bare, the space a little too large for the one man, but that was charming too. It felt like you were able to occupy that small empty space in his life.

When you walked around, Jason following you like a duckling, you noticed the small knick-knacks you bought with him on your dates.

Matching plushies, a book you picked randomly, a bookmark you gifted him, and a tiny paper frog you made while waiting for your table before dinner.

You felt cherished, looking at the physical representations of your memories together.

He grabbed you again, wanting the closeness. You fell back into him, the small paper frog in your hand, made from old receipt paper.

Jason resumed his prior back hug, absorbing your warmth.

He was more clingy than usual tonight.

“How was your trip to the charity today? I forgot to ask you about it at dinner, it must be hard to take a break from them to race again.” You leaned into him more.

Jason buried himself further. Not a great hiding spot since he was larger, but it was the thought that counted.

“I would love to hear about it.” You put the frog back on the shelf, letting it watch the two of you.

“It was good, I got to do one final check to make sure everything would be good when I’m gone. But…” Jason hesitated, squeezing you a little tighter.

You waited, rubbing circles on his forearm.

“I had noticed a lot of stuff come in, it’s a good thing, but it wasn’t like our usual haul. I didn’t recognize it as the stuff I brought over either.” Jason breathed, agitation filling his voice. “When I asked around about it, they said Wayne Enterprises had it delivered.”

Jason went silent. He was tense.

“I always tell that old man to fuck off. He never listens.” Jason sighed.

The last thing Jason wanted was another check from Bruce. Taking over the hard work he had volunteered for months.

Another sanctuary was being taken away from Jason’s grasp.

“I can’t stand it.” Jason whispered. His eyebrows taut.

You maneuvered your head back to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’m sorry, I know that was the last thing you wanted to happen.” You soothed.

Jason leaned in for more kisses.

“Don’t worry, I’m feeling better already.” He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Jason smiled into your skin, his voice returning to normal. “But looking at those damn crocs every morning makes me mad.”

You laughed as he grew bolder, pushing the topic aside as you leaned to the floor buried from Jason’s affection surge.

If he was deflecting, distracting himself from his hurt then you could let him kiss you a couple times to distract himself.

Shared kisses, lost in each other’s presence, too occupied to notice the multiple buzzing sounds from Jason’s phone.

——

Once the public release of the third and final interview was released to your company’s website, the usual flood of comments embraced the look at the two of you.

You lost yourself in the positive comments, ignoring the negative ones, but that was the price of social media. It was the evils of publicity.

You read comment after comment about the excitement to watch the fresh new season. Iconic racers coming back to their playing field, excited to reveal new car designs, getting the opportunity to collaborate with anyone and everyone.

As the time for Qualifying reached you, the temperature fully warmed and Jason wasn’t next to you to enjoy it.

He had conferences, practice drives, and flights to catch. Now that he was past elimination, it was time to test his fastest time.

It wasn’t even the peak of the season, but you were missing him.

You sighed into your phone, a small vibration felt in your palm. A message from Jason appeared.

It was a photo of his Lightning McQueen crocs on the plane. A big contrast to the fancy carpeting, expensive seats, and an up-to-date screen playing the children’s movie.

You smiled to yourself in your desk chair, but a small prick to your heart struck you.

The difference in your lifestyles hitting you. He was a rich racer, traveling the world in one of the most expensive suits in modern racing.

You felt…small.

The two of you hadn’t talked about what would happen once he started racing full-time again.

How far was this relationship going?

Would you follow him to his races around the world? Should you follow him?

Would you officially announce anything?

Was this an off-season romance? Only an off-season romance?

What about your job?

“Hey, we need to be there by one. Should we grab a quick lunch?” Your coworker called out to you, interrupting your pessimistic thoughts to yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there. Meet you in the lobby?” You locked your computer, grabbing your key badge, ready to go out of the office.

You quickly typed out a message, taking advantage of Jason still on his phone.

You: Hey slow down try to give the other guys a chance

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: fast is the only way I go. you, especially, should know that ;)

You blushed, quickly putting away your phone to catch up with your team.

——

Jason’s performance during qualifying went as expected. He performed in P1, claiming and boasting as he usually did. His time seemed to be getting faster, raising the competition standards for everyone.

You only shook your head as you looked at the results on your phone, a small smile on your face.

Jason was busy going to opening days, press conferences, driving on the racetrack. His replies were becoming sparse.

You: I knew those crocs were good luck charms

No read receipt. No reply.

You kept yourself busy at work. Falling into a routine.

You checked your phone again during lunch. No messages.

Your apartment felt empty when you came home, no lovable man standing in the kitchen.

Still no reply from Jason. It would’ve made you sad if you weren’t so tired.

Your phone rang as you got ready for bed. Letting your head hit the pillow as you heard Jason’s voice in your ear.

“I just saw— paper frogs that—vendor—the street and—grab some.” Jason’s voice went in and out of your mind, fighting the urge to sleep.

His voice was too soothing.

“That’s nice, Jay.” You slurred.

“Sweetheart? Are you awake—“ His voice started to get farther and farther.

You couldn’t keep your eyes open and your dreams filled with you sitting in the stands, watching Jason race.

Wind hitting your skin, watching the flags fly in the air, engines roaring past you.

He was so far away and kept driving further away from you.

You jerked awake. Looking for your phone in the blankets.

You had fallen asleep while on your first phone call with Jason since he left.

“Shit, I wanted to hear his voice.” You shook the blanket in the air until your phone fell from it.

You looked at your call history. Apparently, it had been a video call, but you hadn’t realized after you woke up this morning.

Jason not only heard you embarrass yourself, but he saw it too. You quickly opened your messaging conversation.

You (Yesterday): I knew those crocs were good luck charms

You (Today): i’m sorry I didn’t know it was a video call

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: don’t worry about it, I got to see u when your phone fell off your face

“Nooo!” You screamed to yourself.

Your face fell in your hands as you read the messages coming in.

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: I got something out of it HAHAHA

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: let’s talk next time

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: I wanna hear your voice

You sighed.

Getting up to start your weekend, putting Jason’s live race on the TV screen.

Putting on the shirt that smelled like Jason.

Tag List: @jaybirdstreet @gallusstuff @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy @deimks @yasmin-oviedo @bigraga-sk @indulgentdaydream @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @idontknowanythingsblog @xakilicious @livvyliv15

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #writing #au #racing hearts

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divinehedons · 1 year ago

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call it fate, call it karma

next: hard to explain | masterlist

pairing: bd!joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~4.3k

summary: it’s summer. and on a weekend visit to your college beau, you meet a texan contractor with wandering eyes. what he sees is what he wants. what happens if he wants you?

warnings: this is a dark, explicit fic, minors DO NOT interact. big, girthy age gap (reader is in her early twenties, joel is in his late 40s to early 50s), masturbation, possible dubious consent, explicit p-in-v sex, fingering, cheating(? but it's mutual HAHAHA). please let me know if i missed anything!

reblogs and comments are much appreciated, please let me know what you think!

Finals, madness, nights of mindless regurgitating, and finally, peace. Emerging from your last exam and into the allure of summer break, you try and picture the weekend you had planned with Christopher: a weekend at his father's house, with the promise of a pool and actually, finally spending time together, and driving you home by Monday while he returns to his mother's place.

The two of you pull into Texas, discussing what to have for lunch, whether or not you should bring some for his father. "It'll be nice, no?" you tell him as you add the extra box of pizza. "And hey, if he doesn't want it, let's devour it over movies in your room." He smiles at you, and you ruffle his hair just as he parks in front of the familiar house.

When you're reintroduced to the older mister Miller, you see him at the tail-end of a phone call just as your presence is announced. "You've met before, we had her at Thanksgiving," Christopher reminds, carrying your bags in.

You hear a woman's voice, just slightly, from the phone (... mean it, no strange women…), mister Miller looking up with a rushed, "I got it, I got it…" before finally setting the phone down. He offers you a warm smile, nodding in recognition before welcoming his son with a shoulder squeeze. He says your name, and you try not to smile at the way he says it with that almost-indistinguishable drawl of his. "Still not tired of him, sweet pea?"

You remember that Thanksgiving. How you and mister Miller bonded over when you drove Chris's car back and panicked over a flat tire you caused while he was off with some buddies. You bonded because he taught you how to fix a tire that afternoon, him laughing at your small hands struggling with such big boy paraphernalia as you coined it.

You smile back at him and shake his hand. "Thanks for letting me stay over the weekend, sir," you say just as your partner disappears upstairs to set down your things. Just then, he tuts, taking a slice out of one of the pizza boxes, along with a newly opened bottle of beer.

"Told ya, doll. It's just Joel. Don't have too much fun, yeah?"

—

Joel didn't mean to stare when he last saw you. When you were kneeling over, lowering the jack after he taught you how to change a tire. You were in your colleague sweater, but your pants… dear God, your pants. Your pants that perfectly hugged the curve of your ass struck him dumb. He barely managed to shake himself out of it to tell you that youbdid a good job.

But since then, he had been imagining your ass. It's as if the sight of a college girl turned him right back to a drooling, horny teenager that never had enough. He did keep his hands to himself, never making a move. And he would've been happy to let you and Christopher be if he didn't start picturing you in those lonely nights when the house is quiet and he has his cock in his hand.

But it was impossible.

Just the thought of your ass cheeks red, bearing a handprint that perfectly fit the contours of his own hands, your curves, your flesh, the smell of your skin— such was the callings of his desire as he bursts, imagining that glass-eyed look on your face if you were taking his cock.

There was no shame in it, when he did finally give in to his desires. How could he not? You had fuck eyes for days, eyes that, if he was being completely honest, would damn God himself to the very gates of hell. There was no shame, too, when he realized just how much his own son wasn't taking care of you.

So seeing you again, now sprawled in a lovely little swimsuit as his own son holds you by your waist as you wade into the pool. He watches from the kitchen, knowing his looks would go unnoticed in the shade. It was burning outside, and it was still Friday. The street was quiet with everyone still away for school and work. He just couldn't stay away from you. When Christopher told him you were with him, he had cancelled plans, even work, on a Friday, under the pretense of bad health and multiple other excuses. He knows, for a fact, that he'd take every chance to see those fuck eyes of yours even if you never asked.

He knows, too, if he was getting you in his bed, he had to be creative about it.

Still, Christopher could be a little more discreet. Instead, there you were, nodding to him as he corners you in his own pool in his own house, reaching down to pull your bottoms aside to fuck up into you. He's gotten to know your quirks enough. How your creased brows indicate your frustration. Or how your shoulders tense from apprehension. And right there, where Christopher attempts to find his own orgasm without even a care in the world for your own, you're so frigid he would think you bathed in the Arctic.

The charade doesn't last long. Three minutes, by his count, until you're pulling away, swimming to the nearest floatie to lounge while Christopher tires himself out with a few laps. It's then that Joel pretends to swoop in, bringing out a few drinks in service of the two of you, slipping on some sunglasses so you wouldn't notice him ogling your willing body as you thank him.

"Got you that grape drink you liked last time, doll. Help yourself to more in the fridge if you want it."

"Thanks m-" he lowers his glasses to playfully raise his brow at you, "J-Joel. Thanks, Joel…" He flashes you a smirk, placing his glasses back on as he seats himself on the nearest spot, pretending to be in need of some sun.

"Chris, your mom's waiting for you to call," he reminds his son, leaning back as he sips from his beer. Just then, your beau sits up, wiping his mouth as he stood, beelining for the nearest door inside.

"Thanks for reminding, dad!"

Alone, with you, like this, Joel notices the way you rubbed your thighs together, the way you sighed after each sip. The hidden frustration as you floated about on his pool, displayed like a delectable centerpiece. It was clear as day: you didn’t get to cum and it’s bothering you. It took a few more minutes before he spoke.

"So why'd you fake it, sweet pea?"

The question comes to you out of nowhere. Your head shoots up and you look at him with those wide, bewildered doe eyes as you immediately stammer to try and find the right words. You try and play it off with a chuckle, but you feel your cheeks warm up. "What- wha…"

He chuckles himself, sipping from his bottle before leaning back with crossed arms. "It was three minutes of him wriggling, darlin'. No one was going to cum from that." He watches you sit up completely, every fiber at rest jumping into action.

"You saw that?" Your sweet voice, Joel noted, trembling from what he only assumes as embarrassment riddled with shame. "I… I-" You clear your throat momentarily, biting your lip gently before sighing, turning over. “You kind of answered your own question, Joel.” There is a beat of silence, palpable and tense as you feel his gaze wash over your vulnerable body.

The two of you hear Christopher, blundering his way back to the pool now that the phone call was out of his way. Joel sighs,getting up with a stretch as he passes by you again to disappear into the house.

“Our secret, doll. I’m nice that way.”

–

Over dinner, Joel speaks to you with a smile, perhaps he was feigning interest. Perhaps he truly was interested. Whatever it was, you feel the palpable weight in the air at the knowledge of what you shared with the older Miller. Christopher, clueless as he is, spends most of dinner with his hand on your thigh, chiming in every now and then between bites.

“So what was the exam you took before the two of you drove here?” Joel had been asking while you sipped through your drink, your brows raised as you smiled.

“It was some English Literature course," you said, meek as ever, managing a small smile up at him as he hums with interest.

"Ah. So that Shakesword guy or something? What did'ya like from him?"

"Shakespeare, actually… And I loved Macbeth."

"When we met, she was nose deep in Hamlet, if I remembered right." Christopher soothed his hand up and down your thigh, to which you nodded in agreement.

"Tell me about Macbeth."

You take a deep breath, feeling both eyes on you as you carefully swallowed down the lump in your throat. "It's the usual things. War, misery, curses, witches. But Lady Macbeth… that was where it was." He tilts his head to the side, nodding at you to continue. "She demanded divinity to transform her into a man. To take up the mantle from her weak husband. To take charge."

He chuckles softly, almost teasingly and knowingly, even. "Shit, doll, didn't think you had that many words in ya."

The rest of dinner goes by in relative ease, with Christopher letting you know he's meeting with some buddies tomorrow after he drops you off in the center of town. He promises, however, that he'll pick you up at three in the afternoon.

As you lay in bed that night, you glance haphazardly at your phone as it lights up in the late night silence. A message from Joel, a contact you saved under Mr. Miller back when you met over Thanksgiving. The message was simple enough.

Sweet dreams, Lady Macbeth.

—

Three in the afternoon on Saturday, you're seated where Christopher says he'll pick you up, bearing a bag for the sweater you bought him. You messaged him fifteen minutes earlier. On my way to the bench, bubba! Without a response, you think he's driving.

Above you, dark clouds seem to gather where once it was only bright summer sun. You quietly grip your bags tighter as you count in your head. He'll be here soon… I'll be out of the rain in no time.

You quietly count down the seconds. Six hundred. Five hundred ninety-nine. Five hundred ninety-eight…

Three P.M. turns to four, then four-thirty. You message Christopher two more times.

It might be raining soon, I have an umbrella!

Make sure you're not in the rain too much!

You stand under the umbrella, pacing every now and then, trying not to appear skittish, specially when the thunder and lightning began to roll across the sky, making the hair on your arms stand on edge. It was troubling, to be outside during a thunderstorm like this.

You count in increments of six hundreds. Ten minutes pass by again. Then twenty. Then thirty.

A particularly raucous lightning makes you jump out of your skin, and you swallow your pride, dialing the next person nearest you. The nearest person you'd think would answer.

And he does, in a record of two rings. He says your name and you audibly sigh in relief. "What's the matter, doll?"

"Joel, uhm… has Christopher answered your calls? We were supposed to meet at three-"

"Christ, doll, it's storming. He still hasn't gotten to you?"

You hesitate. You wonder if you were going to be too harsh on your beau if you admitted he wasn't. Just then, another strike of lightning has you confessing. "He… he wasn't answering my texts, I don't know where he is."

You hear him cuss at the other end, along with the sound of his keys and his heavy steps.

"Stay put for me, sweet pea. Where are you waiting?"

You tell him, and you don't even count to three hundred before he's pulling up in front of you, opening the passenger door and yelling at you to get in.

"Christ, doll, you're freezing! How long were you out there?" You feel his gaze on yours as you attempt to say your thanks, still visibly shaking from being out in the rain so long, combined with the fear of lightning. He immediately reaches back to retrieve the towels he had brought exactly for this scenario, covering you up in them as you finally manage. “Thanks, Joel. D-did… did Chris leave a word, or anything? I’ve been trying to reach him…”

You don’t miss the way he tries to hold back a smirk, buckling your seatbelt as he sighs. “He said he’s drinking with some buddies, doll. But I thought he already told you. He didn’t mention you’d be needin’ a ride or anythin’.” He pauses, as if for dramatic effect. “Actually, it sounded really loud when he called." You look right back at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you processed his words.

Oh. Oh.

“H-he probably just forgot. Or something,” you try to justify as Joel begins to steer the two of you through the storm and back to his house. “I just hope he doesn’t get sick from the weather or anything…”

“God, sweet pea, you’re just so goddamn sweet even if he’s an asshole, huh?”

It shuts you up for the rest of the ride. He escorts you inside, telling you he’ll hand you a set of clothes. That you should be rinsing off immediately. You do not see the way he stares at your soaked shirt, your skin so fucking close and yet so far. You obey, so quickly that it makes his cheeks hurt from smiling. It was so natural for you, and it makes him absolutely feral. Most of all, you’re so vulnerable right now. And it hatches a wretched plan in his head before he could stop it.

He takes a shirt and boxers from his own closet, under the guise of wanting to keep yours and Christopher's stuff private. And he opens the door, expecting to see you mostly naked. Oh, God, sweet pea, I'm so sorry! Feign innocence, caring and comforting.

What he didn't expect was you seated on the counter, a photo on the screen of your phone. One of his son, your beau, holding another woman that was so clearly not you, posted by some friend. He didn't expect to see you teary-eyed, cheeks bright red as you hiccup.

"I… I guess that's why… he wouldn't pick up…"

He sighs, tilts his head to the side. "Oh, sweetheart…" He rushes to you, embracing you gently, damp clothes and all, into his warm arms as he shushes you gently. You try to resist him when he begins to help you with your clothes. You try to resist him when he offers tenderness. But it's all so rare, so careful, with such gentleness that you find yourself agreeing with anything he asked. Let me draw you a bath, doll, meaning he'll watch you soak. Let me help you with that, meaning he wanted to be the one to strip you down.

"He never treated you like this, doll, did he?" The look on your face is enough to answer him. He clicks his tongue, leaning his ear close as he slips your unclasped bra down your shivering frame. "Oh, darlin'. Let me show you how a lady should be treated."

It's how you end up in the warm bath he had prepared, settled between his legs with his mouth on your neck, his hands running up and down your sides until you were shaking and giggling from the touch. "Pretty li'l thing like you shouldn't be neglected. He's a damn fool."

He begins to ask for things while he's already doing them. He drifts his hands to your breasts and whispers, "Okay if I touched ya like this?" He pinches your hardened nipples and says, "Feels good, doesn't it, darlin'?" You wriggle in his grasp, ticklish and alight, tethered in the receeding waves of emotion as he draws you into some semblance of relaxation, smoothing out each tense muscle as he speaks to you with such unabashed softness.

Your first moan escapes you before you could stop it. One hand flies to your mouth as you immediately attempt to pull away from Joel. And yet, he holds you, chuckling right against your ear that you feel the smirk on his face spreading against the curve of your ear.

"I bet he never made you feel that good, baby doll."

You try and argue, left stammering just as his left hand holds your left leg up against your torso, his right hand moving down to cup you by your cunt. You feel him hardening behind you, pressed against the small of your back, grinding against your skin there. He kisses the back of your ear, chuckling as you struggle to hold back the rest of your moans. "Come on, doll, make some noise for me… otherwise, we'll be here all night, because I'm not stoppin' 'til you use that fuckin' mouth of yours to prove I'm better than him.

He dreamt of this. Your willing frame whining and moaning from every touch he gives you. You could not even conceal the fact that you were on edge and you were wet. He spreads you with his fingers, pausing as he nibbles on your earlobe before finally, finally sinking his fingers right where you're pink and lovely and warm. The fact that you felt bursting from just two fingers had you shivering with excitement, a surprised squeal escaping your mouth.

"J-Joel… Joel…"

"You can take it, sweet pea, stay close to me…" His left arm relaxes its hold on your left leg, drifting closer to begin rubbing soft, languid circles right on your aching clit as you lean your head back and sigh dreamily, feeling that familiar ascent into almost-forgotten bliss. It was something you only felt when you fucked yourself. It was something that eluded you in your sex life. You feel Joel's eyes on your face; when your features contort with the pleasure, when your hands palm at his beard, pulling at him needily to plant a kiss to your wanton mouth.

It's almost too quickly that you're cresting, feeling your sides burn from want as you grind into his hands in an effort to cum faster. And just when it was three seconds away, he tears his hands off of you, revelling in the sounds of your protest, your whining as you looked up at him. Already, too, he's getting out of the tub, draining the water as he picks you up in his arms.

"I know, I know what you need…" Still, you whine, thighs rubbing together. "But if I'm making you cum, sweet pea, I'm doin' it right by making you cum all over my sheets. Got it?" You nod, wrapping your arms around him as he carries you, bath water dripping and all, taking you to his bedroom with his slept-in sheets and oscillating fan to the side. He lays you among the sheets, smirking as he trailed one hand down your front, against your skin with butterfly caresses. Like an observer in some strange gallery, the fount of art and beauty exhibited for his own decrepit sensual pleasure.

“Y’wanna tell me what’cha want, dollface?” You try. You try to look away from his fingertips running up and down your stomach, knowing the power beneath that skin. You feel the restraint on his face, along with that smirk you just can’t seem to wipe off of him. “Yeah… you’re just absolutely desperate for me, no?”

“Want you… please…”

“Where d’ya want me? Here?” He drifts his hand to your neck, giving the slightest squeeze. You whine, and he drifts his touch to your willing mouth. Two fingers, delving into the warm wetness of your tongue, the softness of the inside of your cheeks. “Certainly not here… you’re certainly not mouthy.” Then he drifts his touch to your stomach, drifting lower, lower, and lower… “That’s it. I’m getting warmer, yeah?” He chuckles, his free hand moving to turn your face towards him as he looks at those softened features, your willingness laid bare before him. “What do you want from me? My cock? My mouth?”

It’s so much attention, all-encompassing, and all at once. You wonder if his touch strikes like lightning. And if it didn’t, then why does he make you quake to your very bones? He continues his teasing, pushing and prodding at you so closely where you want him, but never close enough. The charade continues before you eventually find the courage, eventually pushed to the brink of such wanton need.

“Both.” You grit your teeth, feeling the warmth coating your cheeks as you whine. “Both, Joel, please.”

He chuckles darkly, rewarding you with a bruising kiss, beard digging into your cheek, your chin, your body spread eagle and willing. “That’s a good, fuckin’ girl…” He rewards you by settling between your legs, spreading you wide open, and fucking his tongue on your weeping cunt. His growls emanate against your willing flesh, making you tremble, the vibrations otherworldly as he pushes you right through your first orgasm that weekend. One, you hoped, that wouldn’t be the last. “You’re so fuckin’ easy and he can’t even make you cum? Fuck, doll…” You squeal, fingers tangling into his hair as your hips grind, chasing waves of that sweet release until your eyes roll back, your body surrenders, and you are left limp with from his minstrations.

“We’re not yet done, doll. Think y’can handle more of me?”

It’s when you see that dark look on his face, A shadow hard to miss once you saw it. He kisses his way up to your face, wrapping your legs around his waist. He does not waste time, immediately pinning you down so he can fuck his hard cock into you, letting your moans and whines echo into the empty house. The stretch is glorious, his cock hitting places you did not know could be reached before. And all the while, he’s watching your face and your body contorting to the sensations you could not explain. Body electric magnified, body electric divine. He thrusts once, twice– and already, you were reeling in another orgasm.

He calls you beautiful, and he makes you understand that you are– that the iniquity of others was not your doing. That you deserved to feel good and light and wonderful. All while he sinks his teeth against your shoulder, your arm, sucking hickeys throughout the expanse of your skins, marks you would not be able to explain. It would have continued that way, and it should have, had Joel not heard the crunching of gravel on his driveway.

He pauses, shushes you gently, cupping your face as you whined desperately, clawing against his bare chest as he clears your hair from your face. “You’re gonna have to keep quiet f’me, doll. Think ya can do that?” You nod desperately, taking one hand to press against your mouth, anything to make him move again and give you one more release. One you were so desperately close to. “You don’t want him to hear us, did’ya?”

It’s when you realize, when you recognize the familiar heavy footsteps of the man who abandoned you, the lover who should be doing this. You looked up at Joel with a panicked gaze, his palm pressing harder against your mouth when you began to make some noise.

“I don’t have the patience to tell ya again. Don’t make this harder for yourself, baby doll.”

It’s when he fucks you with abandon, barely concealing his own moans as you tremble in his hold, locking your legs around his waist as he thrusts. Despite only one or two light groans escaping him, you see how tense his jaw had become, clenching, grinding beneath the skin. You know he’s close, and yet he waits for you, reaching down to rub your aching little clit. He rubs you repeatedly until the riptide of pleasure swallows you whole. Your eyes gloss over, a singular, weak whimper escaping through your self-censorship, your warm breath absorbed by Joel’s palm.

Just a few moments more, and his cock buries deep into you, silencing himself by sinking his teeth into the curve of your shoulder. It is a way to silence himself, to relax, to completely surrender his orgasm to you. His warm spend fills your aching walls, his body falling against yours as he sighs.

Just then, you hear, right across the hall. You hear Christopher. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He steps out into the hallway. It’s followed with him raising his voice. (Hey dad! Have you heard from her?) Joel manages a soft chuckle into your ear. “Fucking asshole, no?” he whispers against you as he takes a deep breath.

“Thought’cha were meetin’ her at three?” he manages, and you’re shocked at how composed he was still was, and yet how possessive his hold on you had become.

If he gets to have you for five more minutes, he’ll take it. The truth was, it felt like you belonged right there in his bed, sheltering his cum within your warm walls as you demand affection, soft in aftercare. Call it fate, even if it’s such a loose term. Were you really fated for him when he took you for himself?

When Christopher leaves, he chuckles, collapsing against you again as his breath escapes him in ragged increments. You fall asleep almost immediately, as if you found home in his week-old sheets.

Call it fate, call it karma. He’d still fuck you again if he had the choice.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #boyfriend's dad!joel miller x reader #boyfriend's dad!joel #bd!joel #joel miller fic

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youling-the-ghost · 8 days ago

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I have bad news for you, prev. There already are.

I don't know who needs to hear this but it's okay to be a casual fan. You don't need to know every little piece of lore from a piece of media to consider yourself a fan, and if learning every little piece of lore isn't your thing, then you don't have to do it! The point of fandoms is to have fun, so just focus on doing what brings you joy.

Sure, there will always be people in a fandom who are the token Information Master, but that person doesn't have to be you. Don't feel ashamed for not knowing a niche fun fact about a side character of a show that only appeared once for 5 minutes. It doesn't make you any less of a fan.

#I’m not trying to hate on the person but like #if you can’t relate to my post then don’t reblog it?#I come across wlw posts on my dash all the time #do I as an mlm person reblog it and go “me but with men”?#no!#I just scroll on like a normal person #trying to know every piece of lore PERSONALLY stresses ME out so *I* don’t try to learn every niche fact about a piece of media #if that’s not you then great! good for you #but don’t come here and go “I can’t relate at all hahaha I *need* to know everything about my interests”#like good job missing the entire point of my post I guess!!#sorry for the rant but like #ugh #idk

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redroses07 · 3 months ago

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James Patrick March Headcanons

Pairing: James Patrick March X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Violence, all SFW, will make a NSFW version if requested.

One thing about James is he might be crazy, but when he is in love, he is IN LOVE.

And I’m talking absolutely head over heels for you. He worships you like you’re a goddess.

If you two decided to get married he would plan the most lavish wedding of all time. I’m talking over the top decorations, ten tiered cake, dress embroidered with diamonds, a ring so heavy it weighs your finger down, the whole package.

The man is extremely persuasive. Even if the persuasion means holding someone’s life over their heads.

But this of course means that in extension, he gets you whatever you want.

PRINCESS TREATMENT ALL THE WAY.

He will clean for you, cook, whatever you ask. He might be evil, but NEVER when it comes to you.

You will never have to want for anything as long as you’re with him.

He is also definitely the jealous type.

If another guy hits on you, don’t be surprised if you find the remnants of his dead body laying around later.

Of course the whole “mass murderer” thing was slightly disturbing at first, but you know James would never hurt you so you’ve grown used to it.

“James what are you doing?” You went to look for him cause you heard the sound of metal banging together.

He looks at you with a proud smile as he stands over someone’s severed arm.

“Just working, dear”

You roll your eyes and leave him to it.

James is also a very loud snorer. You’ve gotten used to sleeping with earplugs, because it would be impossible to get a good nights sleep with how much he snores.

Your favorite couples activity is to mess with guests at the Cortez. His guilty pleasure is he loves basic ghost tricks. Making furniture float, appearing at the edge of someone’s bed, or just whispering boo. He thinks the reactions are hilarious, and will even set up cameras for an instant replay.

“Hahaha look at how scared that idiot looked!” James says as he shows you his most recent recording.

Anyways, that’s all guys! Remember to like and reblog! Love ya!

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jessamine-rose · 11 months ago

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NSISNAKSBAJWI THIS WAS AMAZING (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)

To all Dottore stans, I highly recommend this fic. Srsly, you’re missing out if you don’t!!

𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 [Yandere!Dottore/Reader]

a/n: this fic is 100% dedicated to @leftdestiny-posts and they would know just how much they had inspired me in this fic once they finished reading it HAHAHAHAH. P.S.: the classical songs mentioned are actual songs. Yes, the title is half a joke. Here's the spotify playlist if you're curious.

Unreliable Synopsis: You cannot remember your past, but your doctor has been with you every step of the way— and he's more than willing to spend some time with you outside the hospital. Still... did you always have pure white hair?

CW: yandere themes, light body horror, manipulation, its dottore, c'mon LOL.

Concert II "Tristezza Di Fine Anno", performed by the Morespoke Philharmonic with their conductor, Lady Columbina, began nearly an hour ago. And you had the fortune of hearing their songs for yourself.

The well-dressed crowd filled the seats, behaving in what was appropriate for their high station. It was fully booked. The music overwhelmingly masked anyone's breaths, if they had one to start with. Her program can be felt deep in the audience's bones. Rattling them in each sforzando before it lulls down through the sound of her handpicked musicians— with Lady Columbina as the lonesome soloist when the moment calls for it.

"This piece, Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor, is not Columbina's own making, she had failed to mention that," your company hummed. "This was by another composer who hid behind the name Safed. They were a self-fulling prophecy. Do you wish to know what they said about this piece?"

You said nothing as Zandik— Lord Dottore— stroked your unnaturally "white" hair.

"They said that nobody understood the piece and that they wish they could conduct the first performance five centuries after their death."

Zandik smiled.

"What say you? Do you think those words are true?"

Your company was a tall and thin man with artificially pale-ish skin and wavy blue hair. His eyes were reportedly bloodshot crimson, although you had not received proof of that in this lifetime. But, you were drawn to his deep ocean-like colors, and that was enough to keep you mildly complacent to his strange remarks.

Zandik is surprisingly a considerate man, but he must've brought you with him for a reason. He told you himself that the reason he brought you out of your prison-like hospital room was a mere experiment on his behalf. Paradigm-shifting consequences of his strange social experiments with you are likely to occur, and he cares not for its ethical debates. He won't ask for rhetorics; these to him are tangible outcomes and no questions will be entertained.

All except his.

"I think… "

The composition had a serene, slightly asymmetrical feel to it. You were certain this was Lady Columbina's creative liberties at play. Something about it did not capture its true authenticities. The show purported to narrate three stories: the first concerned a judge who had to find a loved one guilty; the second concerned a prince who drove their beloved into despair; and the final was a tale of a knight who disregarded his obligation to defend a loved one.

But it felt incomplete. As if there was a missing piece— a secret fourth act hiding between the notes and stage.

"A person can't completely mourn for something they would never experience," you told him. "But even so, if I were Safed, I'd feel like my effort would've been a waste."

His eyes remained trained on your hair as you spoke. Zandik seems to dislike it. Unlike his cells mixed with engineered nanomaterials, yours are uniquely… "natural". His hair has a color intensity, whereas yours was the presence of every color— as physics explained it.

"Something they would never experience…" Zandik repeated, tasting the words on his tongue— a smirk etched on his face as though it tasted like bitter irony.

You continued.

"I have a hunch that Safed put everything they worked hard on all their pieces because Lady Columbina wouldn't have performed it otherwise. Since all the songs on the concert's program are marketed as underappreciated compositions, I would… um… infer that they also questioned their works and ultimately themselves if it all had worth in the end. Hopeless for the lack of attention, they probably thought there's more hope if they lived in another generation."

You wanted to say, though you're not sure where this negativity came from, that they probably despised how their well-crafted works were ignored and their sloppy yet significantly more popular compositions angered them.

But you're not Safed. You don't want to put words in their mouth.

".... Hmm, an acceptable hypothesis— a decent one, even," whatever monotonous response Zandik wished to convey, his voice betrayed his grand satisfaction. "Yet I won't give you any confirmation."

"I know."

Zandik laughed.

"The next piece is Norn's Adagio for Strings Op. 11, before the closing Symphony No. 6, better known as Pathétique Symphony, in B Minor Op. 74."

You tilted your head innocently. "Pathetic?"

"Another piece by Safed. It's a Fontaine-translated title. It's originally named pateticheskaya, which meant passionate or emotional, not at all pitiable."

He crossed his arms, insulted as though he was the one who came up with the original title.

"Roughly half a millennium past, the masses attributed Safed's demise to the strains of their final composition, the so-called Pathétique, a mere nine days preceding their exit from this mortal coil. The prevailing narrative spouts a tale of a tragic surrender to the clutches of undiagnosed clinical depression. I find such simplicity in analysis rather pedestrian, wouldn't you agree?"

You took a while to process his inquiry before hesitantly nodding.

"I… I think so."

Zandik smiled.

It's hard to tell if it's genuine, especially when such a protruding mask hides his eyes. Should its existence vanish, you aren't certain you'd see a soul within his pupils either.

"Safed hated this piece, believing it should be cast aside and forgotten. They were living in the woodlands when they wrote it— and when they decided to live with their benefactor, it was suddenly difficult to tear them away from their work."

You nodded to cue that you were still listening.

"They have an incredibly deep connection with their works. One might say they see in tunes rather than color."

You nodded again.

"Your inclination towards a perpetual affirmation of propositions, presumably to veil any potential lacunae in your cognitive purview, does not escape me. It is, if I may be so bold, your agreement that conceals your specter of unfamiliarity, right?"

You rarely understand a word he says when he is in this passionate state. You just nod as if you knew.

"Adorable," Zandik chuckled.

His voice was chillingly low yet… comforting.

"Your sincerity constitutes an enchanting facet of your comportment."

He had to be teasing you.

"Although…" Zandik grabbed a few locks of your hair as though it was slimy and unpleasant— quickly retracting them with a disapproving tilt. "You could stand to utilize more (h/c) hair dyes. How is it conceivable that it has returned to white yet again?"

You opened your mouth but Zandik raised a finger.

"No. I am the scholar here. Do not answer."

You giggled. "Understood, Doctor."

He grinned, inadvertently showing off his pointed canines.

"What a good test subject you are, my dear (Y/n)."

Whether good was a subjective or objective assessment or not was up to interpretation.

The mid-concert intermission began, allowing Lady Columbina's pressured musicians a 20-minute sigh of relief. Zandik ushered you to the back where the Lady Harbinger reposed on a white sofa, her cheek brushing a visibly soft and cloud-like pillow. The bright backstage lighting made her seem ethereal.

She looked like heaven, but Zandik would argue that "(Y/n)" is the true epitome of the word.

"Greetings. As expected, you'd initiate conversation at the earliest convenience." She cooed. "You look younger today, Doctor."

"You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment, Columbina." Zandik scoffed. "How many times will we rehearse this canned script until it is a learned lesson?"

"Perhaps it shall end on the day you refrain yourself from recreating… perspectives."

"Since my encounter with the Dendro Archon, I have not revisited that notion."

Columbina's gentle smile dropped coldly. "You know that your segments are not what I am referring to."

You looked back and forth between the two. Each of them was a distinctively unique person and it's a challenge to take your eyes away from the other.

Hence, when you felt Lady Columbina's eyes on you, you shook and straightened yourself before bowing stiffly.

"G-Greetings, Lady Columbina!!!"

Her gentle smile resurfaced.

"Greetings to you as well, dear Safed."

You blinked.

Dottore clicked his tongue, and Columbina laughed softly.

"Apologies, I meant to say (Y/n)— that is the name you go by in this era of humanity, right?"

You'd rightfully claim that between the three of you, you were the most human. Zandik has his clones, Columbina's origins are of strict secrecy, and you are a mere amnesiac patient. But the way she addressed you was sounding awful like stripping you away with that sense of humane identity.

"Yes? I guess?"

Columbina delightedly buzzed in your reply. "(Y/n)— truly a lovely name. That must mean that you're very healthy! It warms my heart to hear that name again. The other ones had terribly dull names, but if the Doctor had given you this title, then it must mean his research is finally drawing to a close."

Her remarks made little sense. You know little about yourself and trust only the Doctor's judgment. Should you trust her words, then it must mean (Y/n) isn't your real name…

But… that doesn't seem right either.

"Not quite, the name deserves no celebration," Dottore replied happily. "I merely ran out of translations. Bianco, Wit, Bái— what else is there? Ancient Natlan?"

"Scientists truly make for terrible poets— Why not try Inazuman?" Columbina offered.

Those words must have had a heavy weight to them because Zandik pondered for much longer than expected.

"Hmm. I'll keep that in mind," Zandik muttered. "Although it is preferable it does not have to reach that point."

"May I ask why did you bring them here?" Columbina asked.

"It's a bit of an unconventional experiment, but I've been exploring how to elicit positive associations with certain stimuli. Exposing them to music as I accompany them should cause them to associate the emotional response it elicits with being around me." Dottore hummed. "It would be asinine to put them in a chaotic yet controlled environment such as a theme park. While a racing heart may be effective, I shouldn't risk a (Y/n)'s well-being by subjecting them to roller coasters."

"Are you sure you're not the scared one?" You asked cheekily. Zandik rolled his eyes.

She shook her head.

"What a roundabout way of saying you're taking them out on a concert date…"

Columbina looked at you once more.

"Oh, but (Y/n), you appear unwell, my dear…" she pointed at stage left. "Why don't you fix yourself up in the nearest restroom?"

Dottore raised an eyebrow, which made you want to decline Columbina.

"I'm r-really okay, Lady Colum—"

"I insist."

Columbina smiled wider. Her laced mask cast a gloomy shade on her visage.

You had no other choice.

"O… Okay."

The halls that led to the restroom were mostly empty. Perhaps it was due to Lady Columbina's performance that made them patiently await the next song.

But there was one young man you encountered along the way. He had blonde half-way braided hair and purple-ish eyes. You paid him no mind as he circled a small rectangular paper, likely the concert's ticket, between his fingers. However, within a second, that paper vanished.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously, wondering if your eyes played tricks. He laughed, noting your attention.

"Ah! Sorry," he cheerfully gestured a small wave. "Didn't mean to practice in public."

The blonde man approached you with a smile.

"You're #9805, right?"

Immediately, you both got on the wrong foot.

Your nose scrunched, "I prefer (Y/n)."

The man flinched. "Oh, yikes! I'm not making the best first impression— nice to meet you (Y/n)! I have something for you."

You thought he was handing you his concert ticket for a moment but when you took a good look, it was a grayscale brochure.

And a white tulip…

"Um…"

"Needless to say, I'm something of a—"

"Trickster?"

"Magician, but an astute guess nonetheless!" He laughed sheepishly. "I was waiting for you, I thought you wouldn't go to the restroom."

So, did Lady Columbina plan this?

You caressed the binding and skimmed through the pages. "What's this for?"

"Father said you might be interested in its contents," the young man said. "That's all."

You blinked.

"... Are you saying you missed out most of the concert just to hand me this?"

He laughed awkwardly again. "My dear sister says I have a habit of missing a hint of romanticism when it counts, so I guess today's just one of those moments."

"Did you not like the music?" You scoffed, temper rising.

"Did you hate the composition? Did you not understand the e-emotion behind the chords? Don't you understand just how d-disrespectful that was?!"

"Woah, woah, I didn't say any of that." His eyes widened.

He didn't expect your voice to crack.

"I'm so sorry if you're offended— are you one of the original composers?"

…

You took a deep breath.

… Why were you mad?

… Why did it feel like those songs mean more to you than meets the eye?

"Sorry, I just…" You shook your head. "I guess I'm not feeling well. Oh, no, I'm so SO sorry…"

An unknown part of you thrived to hear him praise the music. That same part pitied the composer who worked day and night to perfect their piece. It's an ugly voice, but it was sincere.

… What was wrong with you? Why did you suddenly lash out? What was going on?

"Oh, well there's no need to be sorry then." The blonde man took his hat off and bowed.

"Farewell, Mx. (Y/n)!" He grinned. "The greatest magician in all Teyvat will take his leave. Thank you for your time!"

With the sway of his dark cape, he disappeared.

You entered the restroom to wash your face. It didn't do much to soothe your nerves. The lingering dread for your strange emotional mood swing remained.

To distract yourself, you read through the article.

The Enigmatic Legacy of Composer Safed

In the annals of musical history, few figures emerge as enigmatic and hauntingly captivating as the orchestral composer, Safed. Born five centuries ago amidst the ancient woodlands of Sumeru, this ethereal musician seemingly materialized from Vanarama with no familial relations.

Huh… So it's about the one who wrote the previous compositions earlier.

No wonder that blonde man asked if you were one of the composers. He was being a smartass.

A Fiery Finale: The Pathétique Symphony

Legend has it that in their final act of emotional expression, Safed penned the "Pathétique Symphony," a composition so emotionally charged that, overwhelmed with disdain for their creation, they purportedly set ablaze their woodland home. Seeking solace and escape, Safed accepted the benevolent offer of a city-dwelling benefactor.

…

Safed… burned down their house?

No…

No, that's not how you remembered that.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

That's not what happened. "Safed" didn't burn their house down.

Suddenly, you stilled. Your thoughts ran wild, but your inner rationale tried to force them to a halt. This peak in anxiety did not make sense.

… Why would an amnesiac like you know what happened?

A Swansong: Il Dottore's Beneficence

Their benefactor, now celebrated as our Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore, welcomed Safed into the city's heart. It was here that the truth unfolded: Safed had been grappling with hearing loss for years, an affliction that fueled their artistic brilliance yet cloaked them in a muffled world. They were unaware of their disability, yet thrived in their field.

…

Wait…

Before you began to read the final paragraph in Safed's brochure, you hurriedly went back to Dottore and the composer's vintage photographed portraits.

After seeing their face, you dropped the brochure in the restroom's sink.

You saw their face.

You saw YOUR face and Zandik's.

But not quite. That was you, but at the same time, it wasn't. Zandik looked stiff in those photos with "you", likely a product of the time since Kamera photography was used only in rare formalities that required a bit of dress up. But the "you" you saw was sickly way beyond the formal costumes. They had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair, but yours were all white.

White…

Safed… That's the Sumeru translation for white, isn't it?

Bianco, Wit, Bái— they're all translations for "white", aren't they? And if Dottore and Columbina's earlier conversations were to go by, the one after you would be named Shiro.

…

The one… after you?

"Tut tut."

You trembled at the familiar sound.

You slowly turned your head around and there he was, leaning against the restroom door.

"You were in the restroom for too long. It appears my suspicions were not unfounded."

Without waiting for a response, he approached with large strides. His gloved hands seized your stressed shoulders. The grip tightened harshly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. Blood trailed from the corner of your mouth, and your anxiety heightened. He angrily bared his sharp teeth as he watched it stain his gloves.

And yet Zandik looks…

Sad.

And distressed.

He pressed his earpiece.

"Test Subject #9805 exhibits troubling symptoms. Hematemesis suggests a severe physiological response. Persistent manifestations of albinism in ocular and follicular pigmentation indicate underlying deformities. Immediate isolation is warranted for the researcher and subject's well-being."

His hand was cold. Skin imbued with silver nanomaterials after several operations, reminiscent of the age-old philosophical question: "Is it still the same ship if you gradually replace all of its parts?"

Then Zandik did something unexpected.

He dropped his hold and you prepared yourself by shutting your eyes as he swung his arm.

To hug you.

"I'm sorry, I have failed you again, (Y/n)," Zandik muttered. "I should not have raised my expectations."

"W… What? Why are you putting me in isolation?" You asked, rattled. "What have I done?! I just— I didn't do anything wrong! What did I—"

He shifted, dragging your arm to hug him back as though you were a little girl's doll. Zandik rested his head on your shoulder, shaking slightly.

"In your innocence, no fault lies. I thought I had accomplished what I had set out to do, and met unfulfilled expectations" Zandik gritted his teeth, voice somber. "Despite centuries of refinement, it appears that I still have room for improvement in perfecting the process… I was right. This deserves no celebration."

The doctor laughed sadly.

"When will I ever be proven wrong?" He asked himself as he wiped the blood off the corner of your lips.

He pulled away, pecking your forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Those were not the words you expected from his mouth, and yet you heard it more than once. I'm sorry. It does not fit his character, nor does the tender yet cold hug he had given prior.

You're scared. You're terrified. You know what was bound to come. You know what awaits you. White walls. Silence. Separation.

Solitary.

Far from a choice. Far from negotiable.

There's no amnesty.

And yet, the words flowed from you naturally.

"... I forgive you."

You have no idea why you said what you said. There's no certainty that you believed your own words. Zandik's lip twitched downward.

"You should not," Zandik croaked. "Why? Why must you always forgive and accept my selfishness? Do you derive satisfaction in seeing me in this state?!"

You opened your mouth to answer but were stopped abruptly as he grabbed your hair.

Zandik had always favored you compared to other patients. You know this very well. He's an evil man and the list of actions he had done that had harmed you in the name of science is at least two pages long upon your awakening. Yet, you were sure he liked you enough for he told you of his new exciting experiments. He scolded you when you left his research institute for fresh air. And he would hold your hand whenever you dreaded those thick injections.

You just didn't know he had it in him to fold from his intimidating facade just to kiss you like a desperate man.

Breathless under his control, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His lips were chapped and cold, and he took you in gently as though he'd break you. Zandik, as strange as it was, still seemed to prioritize your comfort over his needs. Normally, this tension would've made him so short-tempered. But this will be your last interaction. The doctor tasted your blood in his mouth, and he was nauseous at the thought of hurting you more. But he stopped. Even though he wishes to force all his pent-up desires onto you. Even though he wanted to love you thoroughly that you'd forget your name again.

Zandik whimpered quietly as he pulled away— sounding like a dog that would not sleep that night. What was left in between was a thin disappearing line of saliva and blood that quickly broke off.

The doctor should be happy he finally got to have a proper date with you after 9805 failed attempts.

But he's not content.

He was about to lean in for the second time but stopped himself. Selfish. To think he nearly saw you two finally walking down the aisle. Why was he always so selfish when it came to you? But those rhetorics mattered not in your head.

You were silenced. You were held.

You were loved.

"No." Zandik breathed in, laughing humorlessly. "No— I am the scholar here. Don't answer."

And you will be disposed of.

"Take them away." He spoke to his men calmly. They had entered long enough to witness what he had done. The men did not hesitate to grab you, thinking Dottore thought you no more than a mere toy.

But calm was deceptive. It does not convey the distress that chokes him.

Maybe…

Maybe in the 9806's trial… he'll have you as he always wanted.

The Fatuus that escorted you in was gentle. A silent guide. The expression on her face was clear that she wanted to extend her apologies as well but mustn't.

You already have a white tulip in hand.

Arlecchino already sended her regards in advance.

When she opened the door by tapping a card against the lock, she bowed her head. You let yourself enter without a fight. The room was pure white with the rest of the furniture matching the drapes. But Dottore didn't just provide the necessities. There were books, sketch pads, and other recreational materials.

As you were about to approach the center, something was off on both sides.

You looked to your left.

Two clear mirrors divided your room from the others. There's a sign on the left wall. Code #4135.

You stood, shocked, grieving at the sight of your predecessor. They were a mirror of you but with a different name— and an even worse state.

One had made a slight sound coming off their skin— rotting slightly. There's a tube connected to their mouth and you could see yourself— you could see them dripping. They had your face. Their hair and eyes were white. The nose was gone, leaving a gaping hole. Their neck was cricked back at an unnatural angle. You don't know if they're still breathing. They're still bleeding. They must've bitten off their tongue.

There's a lone white blanket that covers the rest of them.

You think they might be dead.

You think "you" might've died more than once.

THUD!

You jolted at the sound coming from the wall behind you. Upon seeing their body, you froze.

Code #032.

They were but a head. You wish you could only focus on that aspect, but you looked lower and your hair raised. They cannot feel the same, for they were almost only a spine left. The rest of them were their skeletal frame, guided by thin lines one can barely call flesh.

Their head banged against the mirror. The thought that the sound was what made you flinch earlier made you unwell.

They seem to be telling you something. Their breath fogged up the glass and their thinned white hair splayed across your view. Their mouth said something urgently you couldn't comprehend because their tongue was paper-like in size.

#032 was shaking. Their pain grew vivid in every movement that the room was starting to spin. You sensed their turmoil.

They looked like death.

You all looked like death itself, both the pretty and ugly ends of it.

"Don't." You whispered, begging as you knelt to their level. "You don't have to speak."

You laughed deprecatingly.

"We're not the scholar here. He is."

In every syllable, you saw the outline of their esophagus strain. The nerves were blueish purple. The little skin they have left on their cheeks is sunken. Their lips were gnawed, likely as a response to the pain they'd gone through previously. Fists of bone tapped against the glass, and you quivered, imagining their pain.

You were not afraid of them. You only mourned their anguish. In fact, you feel at ease to be in the presence of yourself from the past.

It reminded you of what "Safed" had allegedly spoken years ago.

Nobody understood the pieces you made and you wished you could conduct the first performance five centuries after your first death.

And now, here you are.

Seeing two "people" who do understand you.

And they share your face.

"Pathetically", the only one that can understand you is yourself.

You're all flies trapped in a web that the predator refuses to wrap and consume out of pity. Compared to the others, you looked fine.

But your lungs were blistering.

Despite their deathly ill and mutilated bodies, you were the one bound to die soon enough.

His experiments worked.

You love him.

You love Zandik.

And how tragic it was that the person who learned how to love him was doomed to perish.

In your last minutes, you recalled something vital:

As an outsider, your body was not meant for this world, but after encountering the woodland creatures and Zandik, it became tremendously difficult to part ways with it.

You coughed up yet again with a gentle smile on your face. Maybe you're not dying…

Maybe you're just returning home, for every atom in your multiple bodies was once part of the galaxy.

You are (Y/n) (L/n).

And you were not from Teyvat.

Much like the rest of the descenders, you have a quirk about you that sets you apart from the norm. For the travelers the world reveres today, it was their distinct determination and questionable age that was remarkable. Yours slightly titters to an inhuman level.

You can "clone" yourself.

Zandik and the "original" you wouldn't phrase it in that manner, but it's the easiest way to describe your talents.

"So, it is cloning." Zandik paused. "Mind letting me in on the science behind the process?"

He was an ordinary student when you both met. Far from a doctor, but at least he was a registered scholar in the Akademiya. Zandik didn't have an eloquent tongue as he does in the present, yet his curiosity burned all the same.

Which is why, back then, you thought his questions were cute.

Not dangerous.

"It's not that I can make copies of myself without consequences," you humored with a grin. "I'm just making… fragments of myself. Segments, if you prefer to call it that. It's a common ability for the people back in my world. None of us do it excessively— especially since we're kind of an invasive species."

Zandik raised an eyebrow, "is that a commendable trait?"

"My kind says so. Whether good is a subjective or objective assessment or not is up to interpretation." You answered noncommittedly. "I don't think that's right. Our soul splits apart until we're just… empty. We lose some memories in the process."

"But functioning?"

"In a sense, yeah, but we lose a part of ourselves like memories and well, hair color, I guess." You nodded. "Why are you so curious?"

"Since you have rejected my confession, I want to try my hand at seducing a copy of yours instead," Zandik said. You couldn't tell whether he was joking with his naturally piercing red eyes. "Until then, you are not allowed to asexually reproduce without my authorization. Understood?"

You laughed. Unaware of his arsonist crimes, you willingly indulged his words.

"I owe you my ears, so it's only right that I'll listen to your commands, Zandik."

"Good." Zandik grinned, shark-like.

"What a good test subject you are, (Y/n)."

Centuries later, that closing sentence will continue to remain true.

Since then, his life has changed. Multiplied, even. Upon studying your genetic makeup, he found ways to duplicate himself as well. Despite his feats in science, Zandik remained unhappy.

Deep down, all the Harbingers pity the Doctor who cannot save his most loved one. That includes both Columbina and Arlecchino.

No one protests even when harmful orders are given; everything appears fine until the symptoms are felt. Because the organism— the astral descender— has no nerves or voice, he continues to assume that the patient is not in pain.

The patient needs peace but because they are not to speak, they remain silent, and the need persists.

The patient wants to eat and breathe fresh air, but because such desires might hurt the feelings of the doctor who thinks he has done everything needed, the patient remains quiet, contemplating desires out of fear of reprimand.

The original (Y/n) (L/n) suffers in silence. In a white room only accessible by a man who continues to nurse his unrequited love: Zandik.

No one else can enter this room.

He won't allow it. Only he can be obsessed with you.

The thought of you haunts him like a smiling reflection upon window panes— like a gift of a Trojan horse with nothing but your echoing laughter and hospital monitor beeps inside. Your thin limbs were marching clock hands with rusted gears that miraculously function till the end of time.

What is immortality for if every day was a death loop?

It is such a lonely concept…

You ought to be thankful that he's willing to be your eternal company.

"I endeavored to elicit a reciprocation of my sentiments from the latest subject. Regrettably, their discovery of my antecedent experiments transpired prematurely. Nevertheless, as asserted several times, it remains but a temporal inevitability until an iteration of yourself succumbs to having an interest towards me." Dottore hummed.

He held your feet.

He held Test Subject #01's feet.

If you spoke up, he would've bragged about how he was right. How people do love your songs. But no one knows if you can't or won't answer him. This one-sided conversation is the punishment for his hubris.

He took out a sharp knife and cut off one of your toes. You no longer feel any pain as you bleed into his hands. What a kind man the doctor is, for he blocked all your pain receptors years ago. It's a good thing you regenerate quickly.

That's what he loved and hated about you.

You only gave and gave.

But you never ran out of soul. You never ran your heart fully dry— and that left you ill. Zandik could never let you go.

You're already a part of him.

Hence, he must not make clones of exaggerated memories. He wanted your perfect yet healthy replica.

Praise be the white corpuscles extracted from your veins which had brought him new life. You were the reason for his research. You were the breath that gave his segments life. You were his muse, much like he was yours.

"Fear not, (Y/n)," he reassured with a measured tone. "Upon my mastery of the arts, I intend to reinstate your autonomy and awareness. Perhaps then, you shall find the organic inclination to reciprocate affection toward me by the 9806's trial. Until then…"

In other words, give him more time and he'll reinvent love.

He leaned his forehead against yours.

"I'm so, so sorry."

And ultimately, he'll reinvent YOU.

"Can I have another piece of your scalp?"

"No."

"Do you not understand the weight of this research or must I expound on it further in another three-hour presentation?"

"Alternatively, you could start by saying that you're sorry," you raised an eyebrow. "I'm still not over the fact you randomly cut a piece of my ear when I was asleep, doctor. You know, I heard from the aranaras that white tulips are given to someone when they ask for forgiveness."

Zandik smirked.

"Regrettably, it seems that such an occurrence is unlikely to transpire. Do not expect such words and gifts from me."

You smiled.

"We'll see, we'll see."

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist for the last two): @average-yandere-enjoyer @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl

#NOW ONTO MY COMMENTS #first of all. i loved the use of opera and a musically-inclined reader. very aesthetic not to mention interesting on a psychological level #once we learn the purpose of their date #i love dottore and 9805’s dynamic #you know you’ve made progress when dottore is performing social experiments on you xD #the three stories……a reference to ansy’s other fics mayhaps??!! >:0 #i like the mention of color white as the presence of every color #and once again. i MUST commend your grasp on dottore’s dialogue!! i had to reread some parts and consult my dictionary app which is always a #good sign when it’s dottore lol #ansy pls share your wisdom!! i will eagerly reread this fic for tips the next time i re-familiarize myself with dottore’s speech patterns #srsly it’s so good #i also love columbina and arlecchino’s interference. not to mention lyney!’#as soon as i saw the number 9805 #i was like ‘shet that many iterations??!!’ welp who is dottore if not a dedicated man #omg i already figured out that 9805 was connected to Safed but SHIRO??!! HOLD UP IS THIS ACTUALLY PART OF SHIRO’S LORE??!!#if it does sjdisnwksjsjs thank you for the lore crumbs #dottore’s distress is a treat to witness hahaha #i also love the reference to the ship of theseus!!#god the horror of 9805 meeting their previous iterations + Dottore’s conversation with safed…….i love it. so terrifying and heartbreaking #ANSY STOP MAKING ME CRY WITH THESE FLASHBACKS >:’3 #i almost feel sorry for dottore #ohhh zandik quoted safed!!#i love how you connected safed’s lore to dottore’s segments. you know exactly when to sprinkle this info >:0 #so many lines slap but what rlly got me was ‘In other words give him more time and he'll reinvent love.’#it’s truly interesting to see dottore experiment with both the physical body and the psyche #neisdnsksjsbsjssisj #this was truly a blessing to read #ANSY YOU’RE INCREDIBLE >:’0 #reblog #dottore x reader

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blackkatdraws2 · 5 months ago

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[Original Characters] One of the Tower Residents (who is usually very stoic) is acting strange. Did the Missiontakers trigger something? (-or is this an unscripted scene?)

[More Info under Read More.]

These two are fan-OCs for a webnovel titled [Being an Extra Actor in an Escape Game]

Quick premise for the novel: There was an apocalypse that trapped the whole world in a game-like tower. Missiontakers need to go into a Tower Resident's Nightmares and solve them in order to progress higher up the tower [and maybe escape.] What the Missiontakers didn't know was that the Tower Residents are actually also real people just like them, but they're more limited in what they're allowed to do because the tower forces them to become Actors and pretend like they're NPCs.

The older man is called Kim Seung-Jun.

He's a Tower Resident that's trapped on the higher levels of the tower.

He's never acted out any major roles for a Nightmare and is always in the background.

Even among the other Tower Residents, he's a hard man to talk to, only voicing a curt reply that doesn't leave any openings to continue the conversation.

The other man is called Nick Fuentes

He's a semi-well known Missiontaker that wants to climb all the way up the tower to find the escape.

He's usually the helper of the group and he's good at being flexible with adapting and making quick decisions in tough situations.

Gets attached to people quickly if they're nice to him.

Basic OCs premise: Nick Fuentes sees the usually stoic Kim Seung-Jun acting unlike his character. He starts to get more curious about the older man, and their slow development but eventual close relationship made him unravel a different point of view about truth of the Tower and everyone who was trapped in it.

-------------✦

KOREAN PEOPLE, please tell me in the reblogs and comments if I got the old man's name right!! I'll change it into something more appropriate for his character and age if it sounds silly. I'm a huge fan of Asian webnovels, the things I always consume are Chinese/Korean webnovels that I find in illegally English translated websites HAHAHA. It affected the way I named my characters because Chinese/Korean names are the only thing I'm constantly being exposed to. [But I have no idea if these names are actually correct or not. Sorry!]

Oh MAN, I have not re-visited this novel in YEARS. Literally one of my biggest worldbuilding inspirations [not to mention it has all my favorite tropes in it] and I will continue loving it forever.

I found the novel by pure chance. At the time, there was only one website that translated it into English. I thought the premise was interesting and decided to give it a try, thinking it was just another one of those garbage junk food novels that I'd drop half-way, but no, it was actually really good.

I'm not gonna spoil anything about the novel itself lololol I'm only gonna be working on my OCs.

To be honest, I'm probably gonna make an original world and story for them soon. I like this idea too much, I'll make it mine someday. For now though, I will have a minor hyperfixation.

Go check the novel out, by the way!! It's great.

#Being an Extra Actor in an Escape Game #man being able to draw my OCs again is such a huge stress reliever #I've been really down lately. My mind has been trying to really kill itself [not literally but it feels like it]#I don't know. Trying to find small enjoyments out of life again. I hope I get there soon.#I yearn for my quiet times of just being sucked into a novel and seeing others lives instead of mine.#old men yaoi maybe? who knows #original characters #ocs #oc #original character #my drawing museum

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pshwrldd · 11 days ago

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My angel<3

Jungwon husband idol (jungwon is a very sweet husband) | (synopsis) there was a rumour spreading around that jungwon was married. was it true.? | 𝐿ibary…🖇️

Genre: fluff fluff and fluff

warnings: nothing

(NOT PROOF READ‼️)

-song playing: this is what love feels like by jvke-

For awhile, there was a rumour going around that jungwon recently got married.

In a recent show jungwon confirmed it

❕during the interview❕

Both jungwon and the interviewer were peacefully eating thier food as the asked and answered questions when suddenly the she (the interviewer) asekd curiously.

“so jungwon… everyone has been dying to know… did you actually got married recently? Whats her name?”

jungwon smile, he had already expected it that they would ask this question.

“yea i did. It was i think… a month ago? We wanted it to be small and intimate wedding. If i remember correctly we only invited about 150 people total. Her name is (your name)”

The interviewer looked at jungwon shocked, “only a 150 people? wow that was unexpected. But how’s marriage life so far? Are you happy?”

jungwon tenses flustered and answeres in a gentle tone , “you can say marriage is a joyous event in everyones life- but im verg happy. Last time i used to walk up alone but now i wakw up with an angel by my side. A pretty angel thats mine. And shes a really good cook too. Yesterday my wife made some stew. It was delicious.”

“awww the both of you are so sweet, i envy the both of you. Well… i wish you the best throughout your marriage” she commented as she laughed. after a few more questions, they were about to end the interview.

“wahh i feel so full hahaha. Can i take some of the food for takeout?”

“why, is it for your wife?” The interviewer hinted raising an eyebrow.

Jungwon answered shyly and chuckled… “yea it is.”

❕end of pov❕

jungwon really is a sweet husband…

nanas love note💗 : omg after months of not releasing a new fic. Here it iss!! im so sorry if it short im currently on a holiday but now that schools over, I PROMISE ill post more. But anywhooo i hope you like it!! I got the idea from a tiktok video and i was like OMG I CAN WRITE THIS. well here we are hehe. Thank you for all your love and support, every little thing means so much to me<3💞 AND HAPPY HALLOWEENNN🔥

like and reblog if you like it<3💕

taglist: @icyy-hoon @jaysng @amorek1m @jakesangel

@mrjypark @yuvany @won-k1ss @nxzz-skz (send an ask ir comment if you would like to join!!🤍)

All rights preserved @/pshwrldd (please dont repost!!)

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homestylehughes · 6 months ago

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But Daddy I Love Him

instagram au.

♥︎ luke hughes x zegras! sister

♥︎ face claim: marsai martin

"i forget how the west was won"

yn.zegras

liked by lhughes_06, trevorzegras and 50,567 others

yn.zegras the west coast, and my brother...

view all 100 comments

trevorzegras WOWWW OKAY. only here for the free vacation and not me...

↳ yn.zegras yup!!! how'd you know!!!

↳ trevorzegras i hate you.

↳ yn.zegras i love you too!!

lhughes_06 wow.

↳ yn.zegras 🤭

↳ trevorzegras luke. do not comment on my sisters posts.

↳ yn.zegras trevor shut up.

jackhughes little zegras and big zegras take over the west coast

↳ yn.zegras THE BEST SIBLINGS IN THE NHL!!! (even though i dont play..)

↳ jackhughes you've gotta better wrister than luke, so id say your better than him.

↳ lhughes_06 why do you always bully me.

↳ jackhughes because it's fun!!!

↳ yn.zegras luke don't listen to anything he says, he's jealous of the fact that you have two arm to use and he doesn't :)

↳ jackhughes too soon, yn. too soon.

masonmactavish23 MY FAVORITE ZEGRAS RETURNS!!!!

↳ yn.zegras I ONLY CAME TO SEE YOU!!!!

↳ trevorzegras this is why you're adopted.

↳ yn.zegras OH WOW OKAY. CALLING MOM NOW.

yn.bsf HOTTTTTT WOOFFFFFFFFF

↳ yn.zegras I MISS YOU POOKIIEEEEEEEE

yn.bsf bestie takes over the west coast, with her...hot older brother!

↳ yn.zegras HOT OLDER BROTHER HELLLOOO??

↳ yn.bsf you heard me!

↳ trevorzegras hi :)

↳ yn.zegras TREVOR NO.

jamie.drysdale i love how you come to the west coast when i'm now on the east...

↳ yn.zegras JAMIE IM COMING TO SEE YOU NEXT WEEK SHUSH.

↳ jamie.drysdale I KNOW.

lhughes_06 please come back i miss you.

↳ yn.zegras omw!!! i miss you more

↳ lhughes_06 good.

↳ trevorzegras jack do you see this??

↳ jackhughes yeah i do.

_quinnhughes hit trevor for me yn :)

↳ yn.zegras yes captain!

↳ trevorzegras quinn why do you hate me so much?

↳ _quinnhughes nothing personal bud just, your face

↳ yn.zegras QUINN HAHAHA

↳ trevorzegras she just hit me. thanks quinn.

↳ _quinnhughes you're welcome bud!

yn.bsf BIG TREESSSSS

↳ yn.zegras BIGGGG TREESSSSS (i wanted to climb one soooo bad)

trevorfanpage everyone say thank you to yn for blessing us with a new back picture of trevor

↳ yn.zegras IT'S AN HONOUR I'LL KEEP THEM COMING FOR YOU GUY'S

-----------------------------------♡-----------------------------------------

an: hiiiii!!! im down here this time LOL!!! first chapter doneeee!!! it kinda took a while but it was soooo much fun to make!! i hope you guys enjoy it! i'm sorry it's a little short and boring, i wanted to start it off simple and easy. getting into more of luke and yn story later on the upcoming chapters!!

hopefully you guys got the connection between the lyric and the west coast! i was going to put the the lyrics in every chapter, but i kinda find that annoying to do that for every chapter, but i will do it for a few!!!

longer chapters will be coming soon though!! like and reblog if you enjoyed!!! much love as always <33333

tags🎀: @lukey-pookie-hughes43

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #new jersey devils #instagram au #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x sister!reader #luke hughes x y/n #trevor zegras #jack hughes #quinn hughes #jamie drysdale #mason mctavish

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chatxkilluaxnoir · 2 years ago

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Please vote for Fusions!

It is such a good AU, and one of the only 2012 AUs left in this (that isn't a crossover. And even then, a lot of the good 2012 crossovers aren't in the "running" anymore).

Seriously, the 2012 crew is written so well.

You get such awesome fusions between the characters with really cool and unique and designs that really blend the characters that make up the fusion so well.

There is probably going to be a fricken mega giant awesome fusion between all the bros at ones point.

Once again, very good characterization and development.

We get a lot of Big Sis Karai in this!

Really good art too for this AU! Like I have already said great character designs and well-formulated personalities that are a very good mix between the characters making up the fusions!

Come on, where is the Ghost Cult now? Vote for Ghost's older ("older", in the way that the series was published before Ghost in the Shell) sibling! It is a really, really good series too, trust me.

Seriously though, please vote Fusions!

I am sure Raphs on Raphs is really cool too, but Fusions is legit one of my favs., and one of my favorite AUs in this tournament that is still in the "running" (got some that aren't, and some that still are).

So please vote for it!

Fusions - amvello-blue / bluepeachstudios @amevello-blue @bluepeachstudios Raphs on Raphs - gumball-gotdamb-watterson / TheUnofficalRefridgerator

#tmntaucompetition #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #fusions #tmnt 2012 fusions #fusions propaganda #tmnt 2012 fusions propaganda #fusions sweep #tmnt 2012 fusions sweep #tmnt au #tmnt aus #after this tournament and that other one I have been very actively participating in (and maybe some reblogs of finished ones and/or mostly #finished ones and stuff)#i am so done with polls for awhile for all the other reasons i already given on my blog #and also just because i am hella tired and burnt out by/at this point #credit to this tournament for at least being pretty fun even if some of my favorites didn't make it past like round 1 and stuff hahaha #but yeah; this thing has been pretty fun overall and a lot of cool things have come out of it #and that is a lot more than some other polls for me lately.#so good job tmnt aus polls!#anyways saying one more time (in this reblog at least) to vote for fusions! it is so very awesome!!

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winternimbus · 9 months ago

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i don't often talk about transfem issues and transmisogyny by myself on this site (with the regards to me reblogging stuff from the girlies to essentially keep the rent low) because the real meat of what i discuss is usually reserved between my friends and i over on discord and my personal discord but considering the recent influx of shit getting slung at outspoken transfems, and other TMA people on this site--i'm making an exception to my clause because great googly moogly it got bad here, huh! i have anons off for a good reason but the aforementioned influx of things getting sent to outspoken transfems & TMA people here in regards to that pretentious ass "public service announcement diagnosing you with baeddelism" or whatever terminally online goobledygook that you can only find in insular as all high hell online spaces with a predominant TME population. putting aside the very clear underlined corrective r/pe statement in that message--the statement of viewing trans women as objects to be sexualized is very clear, and i don't think the statement that "most people don't view trans women as women, rather objects to be debated about, sexualized, or stomped underfoot entirely" needs to be repeated here. years of having to sit through that fucking debate about astolfo and ferris argyle really does one hell of a number to you when you're the one directly effected by that transmisogynistic stereotype--even if from what i'm aware, there has been a focused effort to reclaim those two characters the other clear issue is that the modern-day queer community was founded by black trans women. are you doing marsha p johnson any favors by going into the dms of trans women and basically going "hahaha no don't be vocal about issues that you firsthand face in the queer community have sex with me instead :)", especially in a time of unfettered and unchecked transmisogyny, and rampant anti-trans legislation that can and WILL personally effect you and people you know--if you don't make an organized, focused effort to stop it? that being said, the unspoken rule is that when a marginalized group of people are speaking about issues that they personally face--you don't stick your nose up and argue with them. you sit down and listen to them. because they know what they're talking about. apologies if this is long and a bit unfocused and/or disorganized. i'm understandably very miffed about all of this, and i needed to get my thoughts out on this all. something something trans men are the men of the trans community. something something saint-dionysus and nothorses and their consequences have been disastrous for the queer community as a whole

#funny winter does a speak #transmisogyny #serious

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maximoffcarter · 7 months ago

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Night.

Pairings: Casey Novak x reader.

Warnings: Mentions of rape, mentions of trauma.

Summary: Focused on 6x20. Reader and Casey had been dating for a while now, but Casey decided to keep her relationship a secret for safe. After a new case, Casey wonders if she would hide if something happened to her from her partner.

A/n: This was requested by @alexandracabotswife, based on 6x20, some things I changed, some things stayed the same...there is angst in this. BUT there's a happy ending no worries, friends. I swear I already know the whole chapter by memory for how many times I've wrote about it and I believe I have another request but with Calex hahaha. Keep the requests coming you guys! Enjoy and leave your comments, reblogs, hearts, whatever you'd like, will be very much appreciated🫶🏻

*not my gif*

Casey Novak was known for being private when it came to her private life, the only thing they knew about her that was out of work, was that she played softball and that was about it. She never thought that it was necessary to tell the squad about her life, so she just focused on her job. The moment Olivia told her about what had happened to her years ago with her mom, she knew that somehow they had passed from being just coworkers to friends, creating a new bond that she thought it’d take longer to get. After a while, she thought about telling Olivia about her partner, but she knew that once it was out there that she had a partner, she could put her at risk if any case had a turn and they wanted to threaten anyone from the squad, so she opted to still keep it a secret for a little longer. It was better for her because that way she wouldn’t have to share her girlfriend with anyone else.

Y/n knew how this whole thing would go the moment she knew Casey was an ADA, and she didn’t blame her at all, she was more than okay with it. She had a busy life too and the only times she really got to see Casey were after her long shifts and whenever she got to escape for a bit at lunch time, which sometimes happened to be at the same time as Casey’s. They managed to have an easy routine in their lives to make their relationship work and even if for other people this was hectic and would definitely not work at all, for Casey and y/n worked perfectly, and they couldn’t be happier. Y/n dreaded the nights where Casey called telling her that she’d stay longer in the office, she knew the cases, she was always the one who received the rape patients and she happened to see the detectives coming to take their statement, and she feared that one day someone could hurt Casey and she’d appear in her ER.

Y/n sighed in relief as she heard the door closing, looking up from her book and waiting for Casey to appear in the room. She smiled when she saw the blonde, a smile on her face. “Hey you.”

“Hi.” Casey smiled softly as she walked to y/n and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I thought I’d find you asleep.”

Y/n shrugged. “I wanted to wait for you.” She smiled softly as her eyes followed Casey around the room.

“Sorry I came home late. I needed to finish some paperwork for tomorrow.” Casey sighed as she grabbed her pajamas, turning to look at her girlfriend. “You should sleep, your shift starts tomorrow at 7 am, right?”

“Yeah, so you better hurry cause I want my girlfriend to hold me.” Y/n smiled softly.

Casey chuckled as she nodded. “Coming.” She smiled as she went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Not long after, she came out the bathroom, turning off all the lights and crawling into bed with y/n. She kissed her lips softly and wrapped her arms around her. “Your day was okay?”

Y/n rested her head against Casey’s chest and nodded. “It was okay. I got some reading done and I did some laundry. I forgot I needed some clean scrubs.”

Casey smiled. “Good. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it for dinner.”

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters.” Y/n smiled softly.

Casey nodded as she kissed her forehead. “I am. I’m always coming home, baby.”

“You better.” Y/n turned to kiss Casey’s neck softly and bury her face in it. “Don’t mind me, the book is getting sadder the more I read it and it’s getting to me.”

Casey chuckled softly. “It’s fiction, my love. And I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. And you better not go anywhere either.”

Y/n shook her head. “Not planning on it, you can’t get rid of me, Novak.” She looked up at Casey and smiled. “We made a pact, remember? No breaking up in this relationship. You done with me? Go to sleep.”

“And I’ll keep that pact.” Casey smiled as she leaned down to kiss her lips.

********************

“Do you think Nina said anything to Milan now that she was almost deported?” Olivia asked as she looked up at Casey.

Casey shrugged. “I don’t think so. Or maybe she did, but I cannot imagine how he could’ve reacted.” She sighed. “I mean, I get why she wouldn’t tell him. But go through the whole thing alone?”

“Sometimes it’s easier to go through it alone than drag someone with us. And not only that, but their beliefs have a lot to do with it.” Olivia shrugged. “Sometimes it’s harder to talk to the people we care about and show them weakness.”

Casey nodded softly as she looked down at her hands. “Would you tell someone?” She looked up at Olivia.

Olivia stared at her for a moment, sighing softly. “I’m not sure. All I have is you guys. And I’m sure even if I tried to hide it, you’d hear about it.” She grinned. “How about you? Anyone I should know about?”

It was Casey’s time to stare at Olivia, not sure if this was the moment she confessed she had a relationship or if she should lie about it. She nibbled on her lip for a moment as her eyes returned to her hands, fidgeting with the pen she had in her hands. “She’d find out too.” She said softly, almost in a whisper.

Olivia frowned, a faint grin on her face. “She?”

Casey smiled as she looked at Olivia. “You know Dr. y/l/n? Head of trauma?”

Olivia tilted her head as she smirked. “Casey Novak…you were holding out on me.”

“For personal reasons.” Casey grinned. “You know the job, Liv. I might only be an attorney but…I didn’t want her to get involved in case someone decided to threaten me.”

Olivia nodded. “I understand that.” She smiled. “How long?”

“Almost a year. We’re already living together.” Casey smiled. “We agreed to keep it private. She knows I work here.”

“I’m happy for you, Case.” Olivia smiled. “So…would you like her to know?”

“Like I said…she’d probably be the first one to know but…the thought of worrying her…I hate to see her sad.”

“You’re her girlfriend, you cannot avoid it.” Olivia raised her brow as she grinned. “You’d like to know if something happened to her, right?”

Casey nodded. “I mean, it’s stupid that we’re even talking about this, she literally put herself as my emergency contact, and she put me as hers.”

“Of course she would.” Olivia chuckled softly. “She just wants to make sure you’re safe. You got yourself a doctor, Case. And not only a doctor, but a head of trauma.” She grinned as she teased. “You not getting out of it easily.”

Casey chuckled. “I know that. I’m lucky.” She smiled softly.

********************

“Lunch delivery for Casey Novak?”

Casey looked up and smiled softly as she looked at her girlfriend. “I’m Casey.”

“Such a beautiful woman. Would it be too forward to ask for your number?” Y/n closed the door behind her and walked to Casey’s desk, dropping the bag of food.

Casey shrugged. “I’m taken, sorry.”

Y/n nodded, making sure the blinds were closed and then looked back at Casey. “Correct answer, you passed the test.” She leaned down and whispered the last word against Casey’s lips, kissing her softly.

Casey smiled against her lips. “I’m glad you had the chance to come.”

Y/n grabbed a chair and placed it beside Casey, sitting down and opening the bag. “Well, I have about an hour before my pager goes off, but I at least wanted to see my pretty girl.” She looked at Casey. “Still on with the case?”

Casey sighed. “Yeah, he’s back with his mom but…” she shrugged. “We just need to look a bit more into this. I’ll probably have to stay late again. I’m sorry I can’t take you to the airport.” She grabbed the box that y/n handed her and placed it in front of her, putting away some paperwork.

“That’s okay, love. I can get there alone.” Y/n smiled. “I should only be gone for 5 days, just a few conferences and then I’ll be back.”

Casey nodded. “Just let me know when you’re there and try updating me every chance you get.”

Y/n looked back at Casey and smiled softly, swallowing the food she had in her mouth to answer Casey. “You’re cute when you’re all overprotective.”

Casey chuckled as she noticed the mustard on the side of her lip, leaning in and licking it clean. “You’re my girlfriend, that’s my job.”

Y/n looked at her straight in the eyes and grinned. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Novak.”

Casey smirked. “Ever heard of teasing, y/l/n?”

“Oh, you don’t wanna do that.” Y/n leaned in and kissed her lips painfully slowly. But before she could make another move, her pager went off, making her groan. She looked at it and sighed softly. “Guess I’ll have to finish my lunch later.”

Casey sighed softly and nodded. “Make sure you do. And thank you for coming, even if it was for a bit.” She smiled.

“Always.” Y/n smiled and kissed her lips one last time. “I’ll see you in a few days, okay? Try not to get in trouble.”

Casey chuckled. “And you be safe, you better not find anyone new there.” She teased.

“How could I? I already got the girl of my dreams.” Y/n winked at her. “I love you.” She smiled as she grabbed her lunch and walked out of the office.

Casey smiled softly as she watched her girlfriend go, sighing as she leaned back in her chair. The conversation with Olivia played in her mind as she looked at the files. She knew she was overprotective herself, with the cases she worked, she just wanted to make sure that her girlfriend was safe, and she knew y/n wanted the same for Casey, which is what made them work so perfectly well, because they understood each other’s worries. Casey mentioned Charlie to y/n, she had never really talked about the trauma that it had left on her, flinching at any possible moment if someone near her raised a hand, was definitely not into choking, and many other things that with the time she had noticed that she did, and y/n had accepted her fully, with trauma, fears, and all. She was the only one who truly knew what had happened with Charlie, and she felt so lucky to have someone like her. She felt loved and safe, she felt cared for, and she wanted the same y/n.

********************

The last thing Casey expected was to get attacked at her office and not remember anything about it. Did she fight back? Did she get to hurt him? She always had her softball bat near her, whether she was going to the batting cages, or she just left it there to have a replacement in case she forgot hers back home. Did she remember to grab it and try to defend herself? She couldn’t remember a thing, and she knew it was okay, it happened, it wasn’t weird for her to not remember anything. Olivia told her the damage she had suffered, she didn’t wake up for a whole day, and she could definitely feel the pain radiating through her body, but she didn’t want to show more weakness as it was. She was glad it was Olivia and not Elliot who went to check on her, cause then she’d also have to hide the fact that she just wanted to burst down into tears. She cried for a bit more, feeling Olivia’s hand holding hers for comfort and to let her know she was there.

“Liv?” Casey whispered softly as she looked at her.

“Yes? Do you need something, honey?” Olivia asked softly.

Casey felt more tears rolling down her cheek as she looked at Olivia. “Don’t tell y/n.”

Olivia sighed. “Casey-“

“Please.” Casey pleaded as her bottom lip trembled. “She’s away. She’s not coming back yet and I…I don’t want her to panic. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know, Casey.” Olivia shook her head. “She’ll figure it out once she’s back.”

“I’ll deal with it then. I don’t want her to know what happened to me.”

“And what, you’re gonna lie to her? Sweetheart-“

“Please, Liv.” Casey whispered softly. “I know I need…to tell her but…” she sobbed. “I don’t want her to panic. She’s been waiting for these conferences for a while, and-“

“And don’t you think she’ll drop everything to come to you? Casey, she’s your partner. You told me, she’d want to know if something happened to you, just like you’d want to know. What if…” Olivia sighed. “What if it was her here? Wouldn’t you want to know?”

Casey closed her eyes as she took a shaky breath. “Yes.” She whispered.

“They discharge you tomorrow morning. We’ll let tonight pass, but tomorrow morning, we’re calling her, Casey.” Olivia said softly.

Casey looked back at Olivia with sad eyes, nodding softly. “Okay.”

Olivia nodded. “Okay. And I’m staying here with you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Casey offered a small smile. “Thanks.”

Casey knew it was wrong, she knew that she’d want to get to the hospital as soon as they called her. She was surprised that the hospital decided not to call her the moment she arrived, but Olivia had told the nurses to keep this case to themselves for now until they knew Casey was not in danger anymore. Casey tried to sleep, she really tried, the painkillers doing wonders to stop the pain, but her mind couldn’t stop spinning around, she tried so hard to remember what happened to her, how it all went bad in an instant. She didn’t tell Olivia, but she heard her asking a nurse if she had the results back from the rape kit, wanting to make sure she was clear because she had found Casey with her shirt open and her pants unbuttoned, and she wanted to sigh in relief once she heard the kit was clear and she had not been raped, but they had tried to do it, whoever did this to her, they were about to do it. Part of her wished that y/n was there, holding her and telling her that things will be alright, but also she was glad that she had been away when this happened, because if it had been y/n finding her in her office, she wouldn’t be able to bear with the thought of having y/n wondering if she was okay or not.

********************

Casey groaned as she sat back down in the hospital bed, trying to ignore the awful pain all over her body and also frustrated at the fact that she’d need to use a stupid cane for the next few days. She was 30 years old and already using a cane. She had told Olivia that she could just grab a cab or something to head back home but both Olivia and Stabler rejected her idea, telling her to wait for Olivia to show up once she was done in the precinct. She felt tired from laying down for a whole day, but she tried to walk, and she got just as tired. It was mostly the pain, she couldn’t hold herself on her feet for longer than 10 min or the pain would show up. She was thinking about lying back down or trying to walk again for a bit but before she could make that choice, she heard the door handle, thinking Olivia had finally arrived but her heart stopped at the sight of her girlfriend.

“Y/n.” Casey whispered softly.

Y/n closed the door behind her and stared at Casey. A mix of anger and worry painted her face. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Y/n, I-“

“No. You told Olivia to tell the nurses to put you as Jane Doe so I wouldn’t find out? But do I need to remind you that they also work for me, and they know I’m dating you?” Y/n stood at the door the whole time, not showing any other emotion other than seriousness, while her arms were crossed.

“I didn’t want to worry you. I’m fine, and you were-“

“Fine, Casey? You-“ Y/n scoffed. “You have bruises all over your face, your left eye is swollen you can’t even open it, you got broken ribs. You could’ve had something worse than a concussion, Casey.”

Casey looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry.” She whispered softly, her voice cracking a bit.

Y/n sighed as she closed her eyes for a moment, feeling her eyes getting teary. She looked back at Casey and walked to her, sitting down next to her, and wrapping her arm around her shoulders carefully. “I’m sorry, baby. I just…the thought of you…here, alone. Seeing you like this.” Her voice broke for a moment as she spoke. “And I wasn’t here.”

Casey looked back at y/n and shook her head. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You’re my girlfriend, that’s my job.” Y/n smiled as she saw Casey smiling. She kissed her head softly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have talked to you that way.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t call you.” Casey looked at her and shrugged. “Can’t say I wouldn’t have reacted the same way you did. And do not dare to figure out if I would.”

Y/n chuckled. “I won’t.”

“Who told you anyway?”

Y/n sighed. “It so happened that the last day of conferences were cancelled. Dr. Morton got sick, and he decided he’d reschedule the conferences but here in New York as soon as he recovers. I called the hospital to let my boss know I was back in New York and to my surprise, Janice mentions that she saw my girlfriend last night and she promised she’d take care of you until I came to pick her up.” She raised her brow as she grinned. “Guess the note didn’t get to her in time.”

“Guess not.” Casey smiled as she sighed. “Olivia was supposed to come pick me up.”

“Well, you can just tell her you were too stubborn to wait for her and you called a cab.”

Casey smiled softly as she looked at y/n. “She knows about you.”

Y/n tilted her head as she smiled. “She does?” Casey nodded. “Did she-“

“I told her.” Casey smiled. “We were talking about the case and…it was brought up if I had someone, and I couldn’t hide it anymore.” She huffed a chuckle. “She was supposed to call you this morning to let you know. So no, I was not going to wait to tell you. Something came up and she had to go. She stayed with me all night.”

Y/n nodded as she sighed. “Then I should call her to thank her.” She smiled as she looked at Casey, trying to hold back tears. “Don’t do this again, Case. Please. When it comes to you, I don’t care about anything else. You hear me? You’re my priority, if I have to steal a plane to come to you, then I will.” She smiled sadly as she caressed her chin.

Casey chuckled softly as she nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You didn’t do that, did you?”

Y/n shrugged. “Don’t watch the news.” She grinned.

Casey rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“So am I.” Y/n smiled as she leaned in and kissed her lips softly.

“Casey, I’m sorry, we were-“ Olivia stopped in her tracks as she stared at both of them, confusion taking over her face. “I uh- I’m sorry. Did I…interrupt something?”

Casey chuckled as she pulled away, looking at Olivia. “I believe you know y/n.”

Olivia nodded. “We’ve crossed paths once or twice. Just that now I know you as Casey’s girlfriend.” .” Olivia smiled, walking to them, and extending her hand. “Nice to meet you properly.” She then looked at Casey, letting go of y/n’s hand. “Guess you beat me to call her?”

“Nice to meet you properly too, and no.” Y/n chuckled. “You guys forgot that you cannot use the nurses against me.” She looked back at Casey and grinned, looking back at Olivia then. “But thank you for making sure Casey was okay and safe.”

Olivia nodded. “No problem.” She smiled. “So, guess you won’t be needing a ride anymore.”

“No, I got my girl here.” Casey smiled as she leaned into y/n.

“Guess I’ll see you later then.” Olivia smiled as she started to walk away. “You got a good one here.” She winked at Casey and walked out of the room.

Y/n looked back at Casey and smiled. “Ready to go home?”

Casey nodded. “Let’s go home.” She smiled.

********************

“Case, are you sure?” Y/n asked softly as she saw Casey grabbing her briefcase, sighing softly as she stood in the kitchen.

Casey looked back at her and offered a smile. “Baby, I’m okay. I just need to continue with this case, Nina-“

“The case matters more than your own health?” Y/n frowned as she stared at Casey.

“Y/n…” Casey sighed. “I don’t mean that. You know that, but…I need to end with this. I need to get this case done. I need to get her justice.”

“You need to get justice to the sister of the man that attacked you.” Y/n snapped. She took a deep breath as she looked away. “Casey, I- I know why you’re doing this, and I know Cragen asked you to talk to Nina, but baby.” She looked back at Casey and shook her head. “Are you sure you’re ready to go back there?”

Casey took a deep breath as she looked down at her briefcase, a serious look on her face. “It’s my job.” She looked back at y/n. “This is my case.”

Y/n sighed as she nodded, deciding not to keep going and stress Casey. “Can I at least drive you?”

Casey offered a small smile and nodded. “Okay. Can we go?”

Y/n nodded before she grabbed the keys and walked to Casey, grabbing the briefcase from her hands, raising a brow once she got the typical defying stare from Casey, but this time, Casey just let it go, knowing that y/n was doing enough already with letting her go. They first stopped at Nina’s place, Casey was ready to play the victim card if she had to if that meant she got to convince Nina to testify. She was surprised once Nina agreed to do whatever she needed to do, saving Casey a lot of time. Once she was back in the car, y/n knew that the next stop was her office, still against the idea but knowing better than to argue with Casey. Once they got there, y/n made sure to remind Casey that she could call her and she’d be there right away, Casey only telling her that everything would be okay.

To her luck, the first person she saw was Whitaker, dropping the news that she had been dropped off the case and she was now called to be a witness for the defense, making her even more upset than she already was. Once she was back in her office, she stopped for a moment as she opened the door and stared at her office. She still didn’t remember much of what happened that night, faint memories had shown up in the last few days, but she couldn’t make up the whole thing. She looked on the floors and at her desk, things were left as she remembered but the only difference was that she had more files than she had left that day in the afternoon. Olivia had mentioned that they were running over her notes and the case, so that explained all the files. She took a deep breath as she walked in, dropping the files she had in her arm and groaned softly as she felt the pain in her ribs, but before she could focus on anything else, Branch walked in.

“I heard you were back.” Branch tilted his head as he stared at Casey.

Casey turned to look at him and sighed. “And I was called to testify.” She handed him the notification.

Branch grabbed it and sighed as he read it. “Hell of strategy. Nina lost her virginity, was afraid of what her traditional Muslim brother might do if he found out. So, she lied about being raped.” He handed it back to Casey and looked at her.

“Yeah, Whitaker wants to use Milan’s attack on me to bolster his case.” Casey scoffed, pacing from one side to another. “He’s violent, therefore Nina’s afraid, so she made up a story about being raped by Gabriel Duvall.”

“It’s a compelling argument.” Branch followed her to the back of her office, his eyes staying on Casey the whole time.

Casey turned back to look at Branch. “I can win this motion. A, I’m up in front of Judge Trillin, and he loves me. B, the way I look, I’m gonna get the sympathy vote-“

“Casey. I’m taking this case away from you.” Branch simply said, staring at Casey and preparing for what was coming.

Casey stared at him for a moment, not saying a word. She shook her head. “You can’t. Not after what I’ve been through.” She walked to him, her defying stare painted on her face. “No one wants to win this case more than I do.”

“Which is exactly why you can’t try it. I hate to say this, but Whitaker was right. You’re too emotionally involved. I’ve already reassigned the case.”

“To who?”

“Tracey Kibre.” Branch said as he walked to the door, knowing that Casey wouldn’t actually drop it.

Casey followed him to the door. “She’s a homicide AD. She’s not used to live victims. Nina won’t be able to relate to her.”

Branch sighed as he turned to look at Casey. “She’s putting Nina on the grand jury tomorrow morning, it’s decided, Casey.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t even be here. I gave you free days.”

“That I was gonna take after I was done with this case.”

“Casey, you’re injured. You’re barely able to walk on your own. You were attacked. I can make the notification go away, so you don’t testify, but I need you to get some rest, you need to heal.” Branch placed his hand carefully on her shoulder. “I’m doing this because I care for you. Go home, Casey.” He offered a smile before he walked out of the office.

Casey sighed heavily as he closed the door, she stared at it for a while before she turned to look at her office again, and suddenly, as she stood alone in her office with the door closed, pictures of the night started to show up. She felt her whole body getting warm, and not a good warm. She tried to take a deep breath as she looked around, trying to focus her eyes on something, and then she noticed; her bat was gone. Her bat was gone. Did they take it? She swore the last time she was here before the attack, the bat was against the sofa, where she always put it. He attacked her with it, she was sure of it. She suddenly felt her face getting wet and she noticed that she had tears rolling down her cheeks, and her chest started to feel heavy, and her ribs were hurting as she tried to breath. Who was she kidding? Her mind had been focused on the case that she didn’t think the damage that would do to her to come back here. She pulled her cellphone out and dialed y/n’s number rapidly.

“Y/n?” Casey sobbed, sitting down on the couch as she placed her free hand over her face.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I-I need you. I- please come pick me up. I can’t-“

“I’ll be right up, Casey. Just stay where you are.”

Casey hung up and placed her hand on her chest, trying to put pressure on it. She sobbed as she closed her eyes, trying to think of something else and not focus on her surroundings anymore, the pictures of that night were slowly coming back and now she regretted that a few days ago she was trying so hard to remember and now here she was, sobbing as she remembered every emotion she felt as she was getting beaten up. Before she could let her mind overthink even more, she felt arms wrapping around her, startling her, and making her move away from whoever it was, opening her eyes as she panted and sobbing in relief as she noticed it was y/n.

“Y/n.” Casey sobbed, wrapping her arms around her. She whined for a moment, but she didn’t care, she just wanted y/n to hold her.

“I’m here, Case. I’m here.” Y/n sighed softly as she held Casey, kissing the side of her face softly.

“You were right. I shouldn’t be here.” Casey cried as she buried her face on y/n’s neck.

“You’re okay, baby. We’re leaving, okay?” Y/n pulled away and placed her hands carefully on Casey’s face, pecking her lips softly. “I’m taking you home.” She whispered softly as she stared into green eyes.

Casey nodded softly as she nibbled on her lip. “Okay.” She frowned. “Wait. H-How did you get here so fast?”

Y/n smiled. “I was waiting in the car, I never left.”

Casey smiled sadly. “Stubborn.”

Y/n chuckled softly and stood up, helping Casey to stand up. She placed her hand on Casey’s back rubbing it up and down before she grabbed Casey’s briefcase and then walked out of the office with Casey.

********************

Once they were back home, nothing was said about what happened back in the office. Casey knew she had to talk about it sooner or later, but if she talked about it, she was afraid that she was going to accept the fact that she had been a victim. That she was a victim. She was not ready to have that conversation. Olivia had told Casey that she could go talk to someone professional, Elizabeth had also given her the number -and the suggestion- of someone, but she knew she’d be okay. She didn’t need that. She just wanted to rest and move on from it, she didn’t want to be recognized as a victim, yes, she had been attacked, but that was it. She was okay, charges were there because Elliot had pushed Casey to place them, but nothing else was going to be done about it. She would be okay, everything would be okay.

“Case?”

Casey looked up at y/n, offering a small smile. “Hi.”

Y/n smiled softly. “Hi.” She walked slowly to the bed and sat down at her side. “Are you okay?”

Casey nodded. “I am. I’m just…tired.”

“I need to change your bandage.” Y/n said softly, putting a strand of hair behind Casey’s ear. “You can go to sleep after.”

Casey took a deep breath and then exhaled. “Can you just change it in the morning? Please?”

Y/n smiled softly. “Okay. Did you take your pills?”

“I did, doctor.” Casey grinned.

Y/n chuckled softly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know why you’re doing it.” Casey smiled softly. “Are you gonna come to bed with me?”

“I am. Was just cleaning up.” Y/n extended her arm to turn off the lamp, but Casey’s hand grabbed hers, making her turn to look at Csaey.

“Can you…can you leave it on?” Casey whispered softly.

“Of course.” Y/n smiled softly. “Anything else you need?”

“You.” Casey smiled.

Y/n moved to lay down and get under the covers, opening her arms for Casey to lay down with her. She knew Casey needed to sleep in a certain position, but she was too stubborn to actually listen to her, so she had decided to just give in and stop arguing with her, after all, she knew Casey only wanted to be held. She kissed her head softly and wrapped her arms around her carefully, closing her eyes. Y/n hated the fact that she couldn’t do more for Casey, she could definitely tell that there was something going on in her head, but there was nothing else she could do. She was not about to push Casey to say or do something that she didn’t want to do or say something she didn’t want to say. She knew how hard it was to talk about what had happened, and y/n only knew what Olivia had told her that happened, and that was it. They didn’t know the whole thing, after all, Casey didn’t remember anything, and Olivia had agreed with y/n that they wouldn’t push her to talk.

For the last few days, the painkillers had been helping Casey not only with her pain, but also to sleep better at night, but tonight, the stress of the day had caught up to her and the anxiety attack she had in her office had made her keep overthinking during the day. She thought maybe she’d be able to sleep at night, but her mind played her tricks and images from the attack appeared in her mind; the moment he got to the office and hit her with the flowers, every hit, every groan, every whine, she now remembered grabbing her bat, but he took it and hit her with it, he slammed her on her desk, she tried to stop him but then he slammed her head and that was it. That’s where the accident stopped, but that’s where her nightmare began.

Casey opened her eyes slowly, looking around as she tried to figure out where she was. She figured she was still in her office, but she was on the floor, and someone was on top of her, her shirt was open, and a hand was wrapped around her throat. “N-No…s-stop!”

“Shut up, bitch! This is what you get!” He laughed darkly, his other hand caressing roughly her side and getting to her pants, unbuttoning it.

“N-No.” Casey tried to scream but his hand tightened his grip on her throat, making her start choking. “No!”

“No!” Casey shot up from the bed and panted heavily, some of her hair sticking to her face as she sweat covered her forehead.

Y/n sat up in bed as soon as she heard Casey, her hands going to Casey’s back. “Casey? What’s wrong?”

Casey abruptly moved from y/n’s touch, fear could be seen in her eyes as she looked at y/n. “Stay away from me!”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she stared at Casey, standing up from bed and raising her hands. “Case, it’s me, y/n.” She slowly walked to Casey’s side as she tried to focus her eyes on y/n. “You’re safe, Casey. It’s only me.” She slowly sat beside Casey in bed and wrapped her arms carefully but tightly enough to try to stop Casey from shaking, one of her hands going to Casey’s head to hold her against her shoulder.

Casey trembled as she loudly sobbed, letting her body collapse on y/n’s arms. Y/n closed her eyes, letting Casey cry all she needed, her arms still wrapped around her. Her fear came true, she was hoping that Casey wouldn’t remember anything from the attack and that she wouldn’t have any nightmares about it, but she knew this had been a nightmare. Easily, ten minutes passed until she felt Casey relaxing in her arms, her sobs slowly fading away and her body slowly stopped trembling. Y/n opened her eyes but decided to stay right there, no words, no movements, just holding her tightly. Another two or three minutes passed until she finally felt Casey’s breathing slowing down, and her chest was not racing as bad as it had been. She was slowly coming back to her senses, and she was starting to feel y/n.

“Y/n?” Casey cried out, almost in a whisper.

“Yes, baby. It’s me.” Y/n kissed her head softly, slowly pulling away just enough to look at Casey. “It’s me, y/n.”

Casey looked into her eyes in horror, her mind finally figuring out what had happened. “I-I’m sorry.” She sobbed.

“Why are you sorry, baby?” Y/n asked softly, her hand running through Casey’s hair, and then going down to her cheek, wiping away her tears.

“I didn’t- I just-“ Casey sobbed. “I didn’t want you to know…that I…that I remembered.” She shook her head as her bottom lip trembled. “I wanted to move on. I wanted to be strong.”

“Oh, baby. Look at me.” Y/n’s finger went to Casey’s chin, making her look into her eyes. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it. I get it. This doesn’t make you any less strong, baby.”

Casey opened her mouth to say something, but she closed her eyes again as more tears left her eyes. Y/n placed her arm under Casey’s legs and the other on her back, carefully moving her to sit on her lap. Casey unconsciously helped her move her own body so she didn’t have a hard time and she wouldn’t whine in pain, burying her face on y/n’s neck as she got into place. She felt Casey wrapping her arms around her middle tightly, y/n kissed her head softly, her lips lingering there. Another few minutes passed until Casey felt like she ran out of tears, feeling exhausted, but she didn’t want to move, even if she felt pain in her middle, she just wanted y/n to hold her. She knew she had to talk to y/n, but she didn’t know if she was entirely ready, but if she didn’t do it, she was afraid that the more she kept it inside, the more nightmares she would have. Y/n felt Casey’s head moving, making her look down at Casey; her eyes were red and puffy just like her lips, she wanted nothing more than to lean down and kiss her, but she knew it was not the moment.

“I’m here, my love.” Y/n smiled softly.

“I know.” Casey whispered softly.

“Do you want me to get you some water? Or do you want us to stay like this?”

“Stay.”

“Then we stay.” Y/n smiled softly, stroking her cheek. “You don’t have to say anything, you know? I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

“I want to talk.” Casey whispered softly.

“Okay…than I’m listening.”

Casey moved carefully to sit and lean over the pillows. The pillows had been positioned so she could sleep comfortably but in a sitting position, something Casey had hated. Her legs stayed in y/n’s lap, y/n only moving to face Casey.

“When I was at the office…I remembered.” Casey shook her head. “I didn’t…I thought I wouldn’t remember anything, I just wanted to go back to work to forget this even happened to me. But as soon as Branch left and closed the door…I was left alone and…it slowly just came back to me.” She sobbed. “I never told Olivia…but I…” she took a shaky breath. “I heard her asking a nurse…if the…if the rape kit had come back…because she had found me…with my shirt open and my p-pants unbuttoned.”

Y/n felt range run all over her body, closing her eyes for a moment as she tried to hold back tears. “Case…”

“It came back clean. He didn’t…” Casey nibbled on her lip nervously as she tried to hold back her tears again. “I guess he wanted to try.” She sighed. “I thought…maybe if I went back, if I worked on the case, then everything would be okay. I’d be okay. If I didn’t talk about it…it wouldn’t be real.” She sobbed softly as she looked at y/n. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Case.” Y/n shook her head as her hand went to Casey’s cheek, stroking it softly. “You went through a traumatic thing, and I don’t blame you for taking your time to process it. I told you I’d be here for you, no matter what. And I’m not going anywhere, baby.” She tilted her head and smiled softly. “I am so sorry I was not here.”

Casey shook her head. “I should’ve called you.”

“Casey, stop torturing yourself.” Y/n smiled softly. “You’re here, you’re safe. And I’m gonna make sure that it stays that way. Even if I’m a pain in the ass.”

Casey chuckled softly as she nodded. “I need to see someone professional.” She whispered softly. “I don’t want to have nightmares.”

Y/n nodded. “Then we’ll go to someone. And I’ll be by your side.” She smiled. “I take it that you’ll take the free days?”

Casey huffed a chuckle and nodded. “I will.”

“I will too.”

Casey frowned. “No, you don’t-“

“I want to.” Y/n smiled. “I want to be here with you, I’ll take care of you, and we’ll go through this together. Doesn’t matter how long it takes, we’re in this together.”

Casey smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you even more.” Y/n smiled as she leaned in and kissed her lips softly.

“Please, never leave.” Casey whispered against her lips.

“Never. You’re never getting rid of me.” Y/n grinned.

“You better mean that.” Casey grinned, kissing her lips again.

#casey novak x reader #casey novak #svu fic #law and order svu #svu

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