#i have only one thing to say: why is this only two minutes when it should be two HOURS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eternal-evergreens · 2 days ago

Text

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass - III"｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Attempted Non/Con, Drugging, Attempted Kidnapping, Stalking

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

No, no. Not happening. Never.

You need money. But you won’t get it through unscrupulous means. You still have your morals, and you’ll abide by them. That’s why you saved Kylar. That’s why you’d save him again, should it happen in the future.

You push the thought out of your mind and exit the temple. As you pass by Danube Street, a thought hits you.

The spa. Why haven’t you been working at the spa?

It’s not really an early-game option due to the stat checks required, but those shouldn’t be a problem for you. With your hand skill at C by default and your beauty over the max, working as a masseur is as simple as walking up and asking for work.

You head over and ask for work, and the lady at the front desk takes one look at your hands and gasps. Her bored demeanor quickly melts away into an excited one as she quickly shows you the ropes. You get the basics down pretty quickly and soon take your first client, a trim woman who looks to be in her early 30s.

“Hello, I’ve not done this before. Do I just lie down?” That makes two of us, you think to yourself.

“That’s right! Just lie down, and I’ll take care of the rest,” you say, smiling. The trim woman seems reassured and quickly lies down on the table. You get to work on her shoulders and neck first, cautiously looking for knots and tension as you knead her muscles. The woman relaxes under your touch and begins to make small talk. She tells you about her family, how her kids are both bright young boys, and her husband brings her flowers every month. She seems really happy. -Trauma -Stress

She leaves you a tip. You make £75.

Your next client is less friendly, but you manage to massage her without incident. She leaves you a tip. You make £80 and decide to take a break, feeling a little worn out from standing on your feet for nearly two hours straight. After fifteen minutes, you get up and head back into the spa, where you take on another two clients. They both leave tips, and you make £120. The spa closes after that, and you head outside.

Someone throws a water balloon at you from a nearby car, soaking your shirt and leaving it near-invisible. You hear cheers as they speed away, leaving you soaked out in the open. +Stress

You look around, but luckily, no one is around to see your predicament. You cover yourself with your arms as best as you can and head home. You take the alleys to avoid passersby seeing you, walking quickly in hopes of getting home sooner. You don’t watch where you’re going and end up walking right into someone.

“Watch where you’re going, you—!” You look up, about to apologize, when you see icy blue eyes staring back at you. It’s Whitney, his face, only inches from yours, changes from anger to a smug smile.”Well, what do we have here? A slut all out on her own?” Whitney’s friends giggle.

“Why is she walking around so exposed?” One delinquent asks. “Is she a pervert?” They giggle, crowding around you.

“I wanna get a picture!” Soon, all the delinquents are pulling out their phones. Suddenly torn between the desire to cover your face and your chest, you end up hiding behind the thing closest to you, which ends up being Whitney. He seems taken aback but soon wraps an arm around you protectively. +Love

“Fuck off,” he says, arm still around your waist. “Get your own slut.” The others seem disappointed but comply regardless. When everyone’s phone has been put away, Whitney releases you and shrugs off his jacket.

“Can’t fuck a sick person,” he says, throwing his jacket over you. “Make sure to give it back. Now fuck off.” He shoves you out of the alleyway, leaving you stunned. Did that really just happen?

You check your phone.

Whitney The Bully Whitney wants to own you. Fascination: 50% Love: 5% Devotion: 0% Dominance: 40% Jealousy: 0% Lust: 100%

You walk home with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. It smells like smoke.

—————————

It is Thursday, the 8th of September, 2022. -It has been 4 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £729 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are alert Stress: You are calm Trauma: You are uneasy Control: You are insecure Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

After waking up and finishing your morning routine, you go to Robin’s room and play video games with him for an hour. Some of the games remind you of those you used to play back home. +Love -Trauma +Stress

“It’s almost time for school,” he says. “Do you want to come with me?” You smile and nod. Robin stands up from the bed and puts his controller away. He holds the door open for you as you leave, and you notice a faint blush on his cheeks as you pass. You swear you saw him glance down. +Lust

You’re suddenly reminded that you’re in a yandere game and that Robin is a target character. ++Stress

You grimace as you round a corner and resist the urge to cover your butt as Robin walks behind you. Your skirt is so short he can probably see your underwear as you walk. +++Stress

You see Bailey holding a mousy girl by the arms, a bundle of rope in his other hand.

“You owe me £200 this week,” he says. The girl is holding back tears but still manages to keep a strong look about her. Robin looks away. The other orphans do the same. They all look…resigned. You step forward.

“I’ll pay,” you say. “Let her go.” Bailey raises an eyebrow but releases the girl. You hand over the £200 without fuss. It’s only after parting with the money that you remember you could have just pepper-sprayed him and gained some catharsis. You don’t really need to be stingy with it, after all. Bailey counts the money and leaves, leaving the mousy girl to dust herself off.

“Thank you,” the mousy girl says. “I was really scared.”

“Will you be okay?” You ask her. She nods. She seems genuinely okay.

“Yes, thanks to you. I promise I’ll pay you back for this,” she says, running off.

“You don’t have to!” You call out after her, but she’s already gone.

You did a good thing today. -Trauma -Stress

“That was really impressive,” Robin says. “It’s not often people stand up to Bailey.” You shrug, and Robin cracks a smile. +Love

You and Robin chat on the way to school, mostly about the games you played earlier. There’s a certain glint in his eyes when he looks at you that wasn’t there before. You have to suppress a shiver every time you accidentally meet his gaze. +Stress

��I just don’t understand why they’d make a tutorial so difficult,” Robin says, shaking his head. “Maybe-” He’s cut off by something, eyes widening. You follow his gaze and see two hooded figures approaching rapidly from the alleyway you just passed. You reach for your pepper spray as the figures get closer, unhooking it from its keychain and holding it at the ready.

“It’s her,” one says. You waste no time and spray them both, then grab Robin’s arm and sprint to safety with him. ++Crime (Assault) ++Crime (Assault) +Stress +Fatigue

You don’t stop running until you reach the school gates and are safely behind them. You and Robin pant heavily as you struggle to come down from the adrenaline.

“Where did you get that?!” Robin whisper-yells.

“A kid in my English class makes them,” you say at a normal volume. Robin’s look of concern only grows, and he spends a few minutes lecturing you on the dangers and illegalities of pepper spray. You mostly tune him out.

The bell rings, finally putting an end to Robin’s monologue, and you head to class. You focus on the lesson, and Sirris calls you up to the front of the class. A student uses a ruler to flash your panties to everyone. To make matters worse, Sirris wanted you to undress for the demonstration. You comply, feeling humiliated as the class leers at your body. +++Stress

The bell rings, and you rush out of the classroom. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you walk. Your ears are ringing, your heartbeat is too loud, the world is spinning, and—

It’s all too much for you. You pass out.

—————————

It is Thursday, the 8th of September, 2022. -It has been 4 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £529 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are distressed Trauma: You are uneasy Control: You are insecure Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

You wake up with something soft yet firm under your head and Sydney right above you.

“You’re awake!” He says. “I was worried. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I brought you back to the library.” “Not the nurse?” You say, getting up. You realize that you’ve been lying on Sydney’s lap. Sydney looks sheepish.

“I didn’t think of that,” he says, not meeting your gaze. He looks genuine, but you get the feeling he’s not being honest. +Awareness

Sydney insists you stay with him for another ten minutes so he can monitor your condition. When you ask about going to the nurse again he makes an excuse of not knowing if you’re good to walk. You decide not to push it any further and spend the next ten minutes chatting with Sydney. When the ten minutes are up, he looks hesitant to let you go but relents regardless. +Love +Lust -Sydney’s purity

By the time you leave, it’s already lunch. You missed two classes. ++Deliquency

Feeling stressed from everything, you decide to sit alone in hopes of relaxing. You should have known better, however, as a group of students soon come by to make your day harder. The second they start jeering at you, you unhook your pepper spray and blast them all in the face. ++Crime (Assault) ++Delinquency +Status

The students are screaming and hurling insults, but the ringing in your ears makes it impossible to hear them. You finish your lunch in silence.

You spend the rest of school zoning out, hoping your stress will subside. It works, kind of.

You have detention, but you don’t feel like going. Considering all the shit you pulled today, Leighton is probably going to take off your clothes and smack you or something. You don’t have good enough grades to know where the tunnel from school is, so you walk out the front. Leighton tries to stop you, but you pepper spray him. ++Crime (Assault) ++Delinquency +Status

A group of students say they’re going to the lake. You could use a change of scenery. You join them. +Status

Hanging out at the lake is fun enough. No one tries to grope you after what happened at lunch, so you end up having a somewhat enjoyable time.

Then they start bullying another student, who thankfully isn’t here to listen to them shit-talking them, and what little fun you were having quickly melts away. You stand up and walk away, deciding to go for a swim instead. You think about retrieving the lichen for your science project but push the thought out of your mind.

You swim for about an hour, and when you exit the water, the sun is already beginning to set. Your fellow classmates are still hanging out, but you don’t really feel like joining them, so you put on your clothes and go for a walk, planning to head back after you’re done.

You hear a bullet firing from afar. Something is hunting you.

Fuck. You whip around, trying to locate the source of the bullet. You heard it shoot from behind you, but you don’t see anyone. Going back the way you came might mean running straight into their arms. You glance around one last time, but a second gunshot has you running on your feet in no time.

You dash through the woods, not bothering to look behind you as the gun fires off in the near distance. You don’t think they’re shooting at you, and running zig-zag like you were taught as a kid just means slowing down. So, you run straight ahead with no clear plan in mind. You unhook your pepper spray again (you should probably thank Kylar), just in case, but you don’t know how much good it will do in a gunfight. Still, something is better than nothing, so you hold onto it, keeping it close to your chest as you run, run, run.

Your foot hits something strange and loses balance. You don’t even have time to process it until you’re lifted upside-down by your heel, face to inverted face with a plant person.

“I caught one!” The plant girl exclaims. “This one’s wearing lacey panties!” You spray her, and she falls, her vines releasing you instantly. It’s only when you see sap pouring out from a hole on the side of her head that you hear the gunshot and realize it wasn’t you that took her down.

“Got you,” Eden says, a hand on your shoulder. You try to turn around, but the second you move, you’re on the ground, nose pressed into the soil, and arms pinned behind you in a painful grip. You feel your pepper spray being torn from your hand and thrown next to a bush.

Shit. Shit!

He’s got you in a submission hold. There’s nothing you can do but go along with it and wait for an opportunity. It takes everything in you not to thrash and scream against his hold, but you know that would only make things worse. Eden runs his hand down your back, stopping when he gets to the hem of your skirt. He flips it up, taking a moment to admire it before giving it a light slap. You jump when he hits you, though it’s more about the surprise than the pain.

“You’re hurting me!” You cry, trying your best to sound helpless. “Please let go!” You weakly struggle against his grip for good measure.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, voice gruff. “Can’t do that. You’ll run away.”

“I’ll be good! I’ll be good! Please, please, let me go!” You wiggle around, pretending this is as much strength as you can muster up. Eden leans down and studies your expression for a moment. You can feel the outline of his cock on your back as he leans down to look at you. The scrutiny in such a position is near-unbearable, but he releases you without a word.

You force yourself to be still for a moment, not to do anything that would alert him. Then, slowly, you turn around and, mustering up every bit of courage you have, lean up and kiss him. He seems taken aback but soon reciprocates the gesture. You press into him, stroking and massaging his skin as you cautiously lean him back into a more desirable position.

Though it costs you your dignity, you’re eventually able to get on top of him, grinding against him through his pants as you lower him to the ground. When you’ve got him completely below you, and you’re straddling his hips, you break the kiss and pull yourself up.

“I think it's time we get rid of these,” you say, grabbing your panties and lifting your hips, then swaying them suggestively. You shift your weight to one knee and lift your other leg up, then, in a sudden, adrenaline-charged burst of speed, you throw yourself off of him and stagger to your feet. You kick him in the crotch and run towards the bush where your pepper spray landed.

Eden catches your foot, and you nosedive towards the ground. You fall, but pepper spray is just within reach. You grab it and go limp. Eden drags your body closer to his, and you use it as an opportunity to spray him. He grabs his eyes and recoils, and you quickly gather yourself and run back the way you came.

Your clothes snag on bushes and branches as you run, but you pay it no mind as you force yourself to run. You can’t hear anything but the wind in your ears, so you have no idea if Eden is chasing you or not.

Silly you, it shouldn’t have been Eden you were worrying about.

You feel yourself hit the ground before you even register being knocked down. There’s a growling above you and two hands on either side of your body. You twist around, barely even registering the wolf ears and sharp teeth of the man on top of you. You spray him, and he staggers back. You rush to your feet and keep running until you’re safely out of the forest. Your clothes are practically in scraps by the time you’re out, and at this point, you think it’ll be cheaper to just buy new clothes instead of fixing them.

Then, it hits you. The pain and exhaustion.

You drop to your knees, suddenly aware of every scratch, scrape, and bruise you acquired while running through the forest, suddenly aware of the strain on your muscles from the fatigue. You stay sitting for a few minutes, waiting for your muscles to stop hurting or for you to stop caring. When you notice the sun is starting to set, you pull yourself up and drag yourself back home, where you run a bath and then go straight to bed.

—————————

It is Friday, the 9th of September, 2022. -It has been 5 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £529 Pain: You are upset Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are distressed Trauma: You are nervous Control: You are anxious Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

You get up and check your socials on your phone.

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible Primary relationships: Robin The Orphan Robin wants to be your best friend. Fascination: 100% Love: 5% Devotion: 30% Lust: 40% Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Jealousy: 5% Whitney The Bully Whitney wants to own you. Fascination: 50% Love: 10% Devotion: 0% Dominance: 40% Jealousy: 0% Lust: 100% Kylar The Loner Kylar is obsessed with you. Fascination: 100% Love: 9% Devotion: 55% Jealousy: 55% Lust: 90% Sydney The Faithful ? Sydney is conflicted. Fascination: 70% Love: 8% Devotion: 25% Purity: 20% Jealousy: 0% Lust: 70% Avery The Businessman Avery thinks you’re cute. Fascination: 55% Love: 1% Devotion: 0% Jealousy: 0% Dominance: 0% Lust: 30% Rage: 0% Eden The Hunter Eden wants you back. Fascination: 80% Love: 0% Devotion: 0% Jealousy: 0% Dominance: 0% Lust: 100% Black Wolf The Alpha Black Wolf wants to see you again. Reputation: The police consider you a person of interest, and have enough evidence for an arrest. The atmosphere in the orphanage is calm. You are considered a normal student by teachers. Your fellow students desire you. Lust: 100% Status: 60% Sex: Unknown. Prostitution: Unknown. Rape: Obscure. Beastiality: Unknown. Exhibitionism: Obscure. Pregnancy: Unknown. Combat: Low-key. Kindness: Obscure. Business: Unknown. Socialite: Unknown. Overall: Notorious. The townsfolk call you Darling. Those in the criminal underworld call you Darling.

Your eyes hover over your police reputation. You sigh. You’ll have to visit Landry after school. You throw your covers off of you and climb out of bed, groggily going to your wardrobe.

Right. Your clothes got torn. You pick up an undamaged skirt and shirt, tossing the tattered garments into the trash. You put on your clothes and pick up your bag, not bothering to stop by Robin’s room this morning. You take a bus to the shopping center, where you do what you should have done on day one: buy clothes that actually cover you. You browse for a few minutes, looking for something as pervert-proof as possible. You settle on a school blouse, shorts, a sports bra, suspenders, and a pair of work boots.

The shorts provide you protection against people lifting your skirt, the suspenders (which you’ll have to sew on) keep you from being pantsed, the sports bra can’t be unclipped and provides support in case you need to run, and the work boots will help you keep your footing when you need to go to the moor or the woods.

You buy what you’re wearing as well as a few backups of the shorts and shirt, totaling £215. You pay and leave, arriving at school just in time for your science class. Today’s Friday, so you have a chance to improve your grades if you do well on the tests.

The lesson pace is a little different from usual. It’s just a review of everything you’ve learned this week. Nothing new is being covered, so you don’t bother to take notes. Not that you’ve had any time to study your notes since coming here.

The test is easy enough, despite your terrible study habits, and you manage to improve your grade to a D. -Stress

The rest of the day continues similarly, and soon you have D’s all across the board. --Stress

You go to the pub after school, looking around for a thin man or woman with black hair and a grey sweater. You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn your head. It’s a tall man you’ve never seen before. He’s covered in tattoos.

“You’ve been busy,” he says, booze on his breath. “Don’t think I don’t recognize you. You’re the talk of the town. Bit surprising not seeing you being fucked raw, though.” His grip on your shoulder tightens. “I reckon it’s time I got my slice of the pie. You like it rough, right? That’s what I’ve heard. Come ‘ere, sweetheart.”

“Am I interrupting?” You hear a man’s voice, and the tall man’s hand on your shoulder loses it’s grip. You look over to see the face of your savior and realize it’s the very person you were looking for. Your face shifts to one of relief. -Stress

“Yeah,” he says. “Piss off.”

“I recognize you.”

“You should, I come here more often than I-”

“March 3rd, 2009. Nightingale Street.” The tall man pales. “So you know what I’m talking about. I wasn’t there myself, but I’ve heard the stories. You were the talk of the town.”

The tall man stutters. “Y-you’re not with the fuzz. You won’t turn me in.”

“You don’t know that. And either way, we both know you’re not hiding from the police. So how about you let her go, and I won’t tip off the Elk about your latest haunt.” The tall man looks at you, then Landry, then you again. Landry smiles. He throws his hands off of you.

“Fine. Shit, fine. You her lover? You picked a damn slutty one.” Landry waits until the man is out of earshot before turning to you.

“Come with me,” he says. “I want to talk to you in private.”

“Reputation isn’t always a good thing,” Landry says as you sit down. “Word’s spread about you. You’re notorious. That’s why that drunkard went for you. You remember what he said, right?”

“I haven’t even done anything,” you say.

“No, but you’re pretty while doing it,” Landry retorts. “Not hitting on you,” he says.

“Thanks?”

“It’s not a good thing. You attract attention wherever you go. Where a normal person might have to fuck a hundred people to start getting known as a slut around town, you’d only have to fuck one.”

“Oh,” you say, slinking in your seat. “So, what can I do?”

“I think I can help you,” he pauses. “Well, not me. But I think I know someone. This orphan at the home on Domus Street. A computer whiz. Mickey, or McKay, something like that. Best hope is to find this orphan. If you can get them to come work with me, they’ll be able to hook you up. There’ll be some money in it for you, too. Just don’t step on Bailey’s toes.” You nod.

“Thank you,” you say. Landry smiles.

“There’s another thing, too,” he says. “I’ll be frank. I know you need money. Don’t ask me how I know, word gets around. I think I can help you. If you come across any jewelry or other items you don’t know what to do with, I can take them off your hands. I’ll pay well.” He looks over your shoulder. “As well as can be expected, anyway.”

“Can you help me get the police off my trail?”

“I can help you,” he says, reclining. “But I need you to do something for me. And no, it’s not about money. I was expecting a package, but it never arrived. Good thing I know where to find it, it had a GPS tracker. It got lost somewhere deep in the moor. Get it for me, and I’ll prevent any of your past misdemeanors being pinned on you. It’s a small black box.” You nod and stand.

“Oh, and do be careful,” Landry says. “I don’t believe the tales of monsters, but there’s a sensible reason behind some superstitions.”

You’re already wearing work boots, but you want to wear something that you can afford to tear, too. Preferably something resistant that can protect you. But you don’t have the money for that, so you head back to the orphanage and wear the only other outfit you have, a sundress. You put your pepper spray keychain on your bookbag and take it with you, hoping you won’t run out during this trip.

After double checking everything is in order, you leave the orphanage and begin to make the long trek to the moor.

Several people attempt to pick you up along the way. By which you mean literally every person who passes by you has slowed down to talk and ask where you’re headed. Not willing to risk anything, you turn them all down, running when they get too persistent. By the time you finally make it to the farmlands, you’re exhausted. So you sit down near the entrance to rest, knowing you’ll need your energy for the moor.

“You alright there?” Someone asks. You look up to see a suntanned boy under a straw hat, looking concerned. He looks around your age, with red hair and a boyish appearance. He must be Alex, you realize.

“It was just a really long walk to get here,” you admit sheepishly.

“You walked all the way from town?” You nod. “Well, Jesus! No wonder you’re so tired. Come in and get some water, my place isn’t far.”

“Do you own the farm?”

“Yeah, I do! It’s a work in progress, but it’s home.” You smile.

Alex is right, and it doesn’t take long to reach the cottage, where he offers you a glass of water. You thank him and gulp it down. +++Drugged

…Huh?

You stare at your phone. The screen seems to shift.

Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are calm Trauma: You are nervous Control: You are anxious Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged A lewd warmth fills you Your perception is altered

You look back up to Alex, who’s staring at you with a grin. You stand up but nearly fall. Alex stands with you, his hands on your shoulders.

“Easy, there,” he says as if you’re a horse that needs to calm down. You shove him off of you and run, reaching for your pepper spray, but in your altered state, you can’t figure out how to unhook it.

>Try again (Skullduggery: Impossible) >Rip it off (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult)

You rip it off, but the fabric holds firm. Alex is close behind you.

>Try again (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult)

You try again and the fabric doesn’t yield. Alex is right behind you.

>Try again (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult)

This is taking too long. You spray without unhooking, managing to get Alex, but in your flailing, also manage to spray yourself. +++Pain ++Willpower

You run, you don’t even know where you’re going you just run.

You can’t open your eyes, but you know they wouldn’t be of much help in this state, anyway. You run until you hit what feels like tall grass, then slow. You’re in the moor now.

You try to quiet your breathing as you listen for anything that may be chasing you or lying in wait. You hear nothing. You go a little further in, just enough to be hidden among the grass and wait.

Eventually, the pain subsides, and you open your bleary eyes. You still feel unsteady, though, so you wait longer. It takes another forty minutes for you to regain full balance and control of your body. When you do, you trudge deeper into the moor, relying on the map on your phone to guide you to the box. After what feels like two hours of searching, you finally find the box across from some water.

You grimace as you step in, your shoes and socks instantly soaking with dirty water. The water is about knee-high, so not enough to touch your sundress but just enough to make movement heavily uncomfortable. You hobble over the box, just about to reach it, when you feel something suck you in.

You look behind you and recognize the thing as a lurker. You waste no time and spray it, freeing yourself and grabbing the box before leaving.

Of course, nothing is ever that simple, and just as you leave the water, you see a terrible shadow overhead. You look up and notice a harpy in the sky. You are being hunted.

You start to run. Your pursuer approaches rapidly. ++Stress

You run faster, pushing yourself to your limits as you sprint across the moor. But luck is never on your side, and your foot sinks into something as you land. You look down, and it’s a fucking foxhole. Not big enough for you to run through or hide in. You pull yourself out, but it’s too late.

“Found wife,” he says. You spray him and keep running. That should keep him out of commission for a while.

Eventually, you feel safe enough to walk the rest of the way out of the moor. You sneak around the farmlands and begin to walk the rest of the way home. You’re too tired to make it very far, however, and soon pass out on the road. You feel yourself being lifted onto a stretcher before passing out again.

You’ve unlocked a fragment.

154 notes · View notes

yanmuffins · 8 hours ago

Note

Unfortunately with the p & f reader. I think you’re missing out so much hijinks.

For example:

- luthor thinking reader is his kid and petitioning a paternity test to try and take custody

-or giving a full scholarship to said reader and internship at LuthorCorp

-the league of assassins coming after reader when everyone is out of the house and reader casually home alone-ing their way to safety. (Damian knew, still has no evidence, has no idea what reader did with the bodies)

-reader building a complete android copy of Alfred so he can go on vacation and have help around the house

-_doing the same to Damian for mild psychological warfare. (He started it)_

-improving the bat gadgets because reader is annoyed when they don’t work as well, and gaslighting the family into thinking Lucius Fox did it

-reader making an artificial Lazarus pit but only for pets.

-winning back to back science fairs, being shown in magazines, and has scholarships galore but the family still doesn’t notice. (Much to Alfred and Damian’s rage)

-it taking Damian being nice to her and trying to be a good sibling to actually get the rest of the family’s attention and to reveal her semi secret genius.

this is brilliant!! all of this!!! love how this leans a bit more into the malicious p&f! reader version rather than oblivious one. few things i want to comment:

i cannot even imagine (i can, actually) how bruce would react to lex luthor just waltzing in and saying hey. what if we, high-profile CEOs of huge companies, go to court over the paternity and custody of your child who i think might be mine? that's absolutely not going to be a media scandal :)

this implies either that:

1) lex luthor has fucked p&f! reader's mother

2) p&f! reader's mother has fucked both lex luthor and bruce wayne. who is she.

3) lex luthor is aware he cannot be p&f! reader's bio dad but just decided he wanted to try and steal bruce wayne's kid one day because of their brilliance and potential, and that's such a petty?? absurd thing to do just because???

but unfortunately for luthor (and any other villains), p&f! reader is a nepobaby who can very well work in their father's company if they want or need an internship and that's where bruce is sending them. no such thing as "i want to make my own way in the world" for p&f! reader in this one. bruce will not let them work anywhere else.

(on another note, it's so fun writing about a reader who is filthy rich for a change. a villain comes up to them offering full scholarships and a promising internship in their evil companies but like. their father is literally bruce wayne.)

and like. still on the paternity drama thing. lex luthor can always handle that privately, but why would he? and something like that wouldn't stay under wraps, tbh. lex luthor better sleep with one eye open from then on, he might find wayne enterprises has acquired a sudden interest in absorbing lexcorp…

i think i've answered an ask regarding the league of assassins? not sure, but a "home alone" setting for neglected! reader would make such a good one-shot fic in general (christmas is just around the corner too!). i don't think p&f! reader would kill anyone but they would sure know to defend themselves and immobilize any threats through their gadgets and last-minute traps.

there's two possibilities as to how this could end,

1) batfam comes back from whatever mission/vacation they went on to find the manor in complete disarray and a bunch of unconscious bodies piled up on the garage with p&f! reader just standing there, unphased.

2) batfam comes back from whatever mission/vacation they went on to find the manor just the way they left it, perhaps even a bit more tidy. there's no bodies, the footage has been deleted, damian knows the league of assassins has been in the manor but once again, cannot prove it. he's fuming but has a newfound respect for their blood sibling. roll credits.

realistically, they would be made aware of people raiding the house through its security system and come back running, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it's p&f! reader we're talking about here.

as for the gadgets, i can imagine p&f! reader finding out or figuring out their family are vigilantes except the batfam doesn't know they know, and so they come and go the batcave when no one is looking. improves the gadgets out of pure boredom and leaves. except they do it in a way that is so subtle that the batfam take a certain time to consider there's someone messing with their stuff. it's like that one prank where you just keep replacing a person's pen before it runs out of ink.

"reader making an artificial Lazarus pit but only for pets."

that's essentialy pet sematary by stephen king, and we all know how that went. evil little undead pets running around the manor trying to murder the batfam because... p&f! reader was feeling bored and unhinged, i suppose.

you're right about damian being one of the reasons why the batfam starts paying attention to p&f! reader. alfred has been trying to get them to notice their cast-aside sibling for a while now, but damian being close to reader (trying to bust them or just hanging out) makes it impossible to ignore them. first, by associating with damian, and second by being a gifted child who has been pulling dangerous, insane and impossible stunts that deny all logic.

but looking back, it should be obvious. their room is filled with trophies, medals, rosettes, newspaper/magazine cutouts speaking of their achievements, were featured on the metropolis as well as gotham news multiple times, and pretty much everyone seems to know what they're up to. and yeah. "they feel pretty bad" is an understatement.

damian noticed, though. he might gotten into trouble himself for participating in some of those stunts (which he thinks is unfair), but at least he can brag about being a decent sibling and triumphantly say "shame on you" to everyone else but alfred.

#asks.#long post.#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #thank you for the ask!! and omg all of those ideas are amazing.

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mammalsofaction · 18 hours ago

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A/N: Whoops, this came out a little more angsty than I originally planned.

Perry hates having to go to HQ.

Oh, he's got nothing against the building itself, and his relationship with most of his coworkers is fairly amicable. Perry just hates having to go there, since he generally prefers spending his free time (spare enough as it were) around family, and other assorted loved ones. There's almost nothing he needs to do at HQ that he couldn't fulfil in the lair beneath his house, or the office in his room, anyway. And shit always, always goes down when he has to spend more than 5 consecutive hours in his assigned office cubicle.

Of course, they key word to the first statement was "almost."

And predictably, the aforementioned shit he was waiting for strolls into his space half an hour past lunchbreak, slapping a couple of polaroids on top of his desk by his elbow.

Pinky waits patiently for Perry to give a damn, and Perry looks up warily when Pinky Garcia-Shapiro stays suspiciously quiet for a whole minute. Pinky gestures to the photos, and Perry takes a look, goes back to his computer, before realization hits him upside the head like a steel pole and shoves itself down the back of his spine, sitting him ramrod straight in his crappy office chair as he picks the first photo off the top of the deck.

Pinky's waiting with his eyebrows raised when Perry swirls around to face him fully. It's not what it looks like, Perry signs, and flinches when the look he receives in return is less than impressed.

Does that matter? Pinky signs sharply in return, instead of speaking aloud, which was the biggest sign if ever that Perry's not only screwed up, but he's screwed up bad. It meant that they're keeping this conversation on the down lower than low, and he owes his Pinky big time. Clint found these on the carnival security footage two days ago, and I had to talk him down from reporting to HR. I made sure he knows you owe him your life, and then some. Pinky continues, uncharacteristically serious. It's the most off-putting thing in this entire scenario. He's not Carl, Perry, not every intern in this company's all too happy about keeping their mouths shut about your goddamned crush. You took him to the pop shop? What were you thinking?

I was thinking it was an accident. And it was barely a date. Perry retorts sharply, hands stuttering on that last little tidbit. Wait, screw that, it wasn't a date at all. We were just-we were technically stalking Vanessa on her outing-

I'm not the goddamned Colonel, Perry. Pinky interrupts sharply, slicing his hand through the air. You don't have to make your excuses to me. It doesn't matter what it was, unless you're standing by Francis' desk when he has to answer for the shit leaking up the grapevine. It matters how it looks like. Perry, you don't need me to tell you to be-to be careful.

Perry grunts, slumping into the back of his chair, hands slapped over his eyes as he attempts to calm himself down. I know, he signs, one handed. I know, Pinky, I'm sorry. Thank you.

And he is sorry. He is as much grateful that Pinky caught it first, being the Chief of OWCA's digital security division, as well as that he had enough weight to throw around to stop these photos from leaking onto Francis' desk. Pinky didn't have to, but of course he did, because they were friends, and Pinky cared about him.

These last few years have been...hard. Harder, knowing Heinz was getting so ready to hang up his labcoat (at least in the evil sense of the word), a growth in character proportional to this terrifying, unnameable thing growing between them, full of weight and wonder and meaning.

It's made him reckless. And everyday that passes them by without having Heinz in his arms, it's getting harder and harder for Perry to remember why that's a bad thing.

Pinky sighs, squeezing his shoulder. "Hey," he says, out loud this time, so that Perry takes his hand off of his eyes to peek. "On the plus side, I've never seen the guy look so happy."

Perry feels his ears burning in embarrassment, and Pinky laughs, low and sincere.

"You guys look cute together." Pinky teases, and laughs when Perry swats at him, shoo-ing him out of the cubicle. He does leave, eventually, and Perry knows he owes the man lunch for at least the next two weeks, and taking over his next spare mission, at least.

He leaves the photos behind, and Perry picks them up, his hand reaching for the lighter he keeps on his lowest desk drawer to burn them over his wastepaper basket. They are likely the very last trace of such damning evidence of Perry's...Perry's fraternizing, too risky to keep around, and he has to burn them. He has to.

Heinz was caught laughing, in one of them, his hair ashen-grey around the edges from the debris of his latest failed Inator, but there was no sign of bitterness and regret in his features. Perry remembers how the wrinkles by his eyes had started to curl down his cheeks, like paper folded down the same joy-filled routes. Laugh lines. The photo could not capture the light in his eyes then; The setting sun had painted the slant of the pier a blood orange, but looking into Heinz's darling blue eyes was like looking into an eternal summer, evergreen.

They shared one drink, because Perry wasn't hungry, but Heinz wanted something sweet, and there wasn't anything Heinz wanted Perry didn't want to pay for. The two straws were a compromise, and the bartender had given them both a sly, knowing look Heinz had not understood, but Perry had. It took him hours to cool down the blush from his cheeks.

Heinz had called him cute.

In another photo, their heads are bent together, conspiring over Vanessa's love life, and Perry does not mistake their fingertips over the tabletop, his palms curling over the back of Heinz's own.

I've never seen the guy look so happy.

Damnit.

DAMNIT.

Fuck. Damn. Shit.

Perry throws the lighter back into its drawer with a vengeance, clutching the stack of photos like a lifeline. He slumps over his desk, burying his face into the crook of elbow to muffle a frustrated scream. Is this really how he was going to repay Pinky's concern? By shutting his eyes and spelling out his own doom, tucking the evidence of his own sins into his fucking wallet? Was he stupid?

(Is Heinz worth it?)

Yes, Perry knows, because the one person Perry could never rightly lie to was himself. Yes, he is.

I got the inspiration from this post

#Perryshmirtz #Human Perry AU #human Perryshmirtz #forbidden fruit type shi #choice of fic #chio fic again ❤️‍🩹

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fairy-writes · 1 day ago

Note

Hi!! I saw that you write for Arcane and had a really cute idea for Vander. I don’t really see a lot of fics where you get to see Vander’s reactions to the reader either playing with the kids or comforting them, so I thought a fic centered around that might be cute? (I think also having a bit of slow burn would be sweet, like both Vander and the reader like each other but don’t do anything about it until getting a little push from the kids because they ship).

ONE LITTLE PUSH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Bit of a Slowburn, Fluff, Getting Together, Reader is Smaller than Vander (but who isn’t?), Sibling Bickering

Notes: VANDER MY FAVORITE

(No, but seriously, contrary to popular belief, he’s my 1st favorite over Viktor)

JUST IN TIME (kind of) FOR SEASON TWO, LETS GOOOOO

__________________________________________________________________________

Vander wasn’t quite sure why you stuck around for so long.

In fact, he wasn’t sure why you stuck around in the first place.

But… As Vander watches you with the kids. His kids. He begins to understand why.

You were kind, unyieldingly so. Even as Mylo grew to start picking on Powder, even as they fought, you were kind and patient and offered them the unending gentle love they all so craved.

The love he couldn’t afford to give them because who could be gentle in the Undercity? Especially in the depths of the Lanes?

You could.

Vander was in the middle of pouring a drink when Powder tumbled into The Last Drop. She was covered in bruises and dust from something. Or someone. She barely met his gaze as she clambered to her feet and all but sprinted into the back where they all slept. Vander looked through the multitude of customers and spotted you.

You had obviously seen Powder go bolting, worry twisting your face as you glanced toward the bar and met his stare. You arched an eyebrow, and he shrugged. You rolled your eyes and sighed before smiling in jest and getting up from where you had been tinkering with the jukebox.

Vander finally manages to get away from his chatty clients and makes his way back into the back room nearly fifteen minutes later.

Only to pause by the door.

“—ylo hates me! He does, I swear!” Powder cries, and you hush her gently, dabbing what looks to be some of the antiseptic you have lying around on her cuts and bruises. Disinfectant was hard to come by, especially in the Lanes, but you were seemingly magic in the sense that you always knew who to talk to to get some. It seems you had worked your magic yet again.

“Did Mylo say that he hates you?” You ask gently, whispering a quiet “sorry” under your breath as she flinched with the sting of the antiseptic.

Powder pauses, thinking what had to be her earlier conversation over,

“Well… No…” She mumbles, and you hum,

“Can I give you my honest opinion?” You ask, and she stills, looking up at you with wide eyes before nodding.

“Aren’t you always honest with us?” She asks. You chuckle at that.

“I suppose I am. But I don’t think Mylo hates you. Does he find you a bit annoying? Maybe. But every big brother thinks that about their younger siblings. I know mine did.” You say, and Powder mulls your words over and over and over in her mind.

She always did overthink things.

“I didn't know you had a big brother.” She says eventually, and you let out a loud laugh at that.

“You are a silly girl for focusing on that. But yes, I came from a big family. And guess what? I was the baby of the family. Just. Like. You.” You say, emphasizing your words with a pinch to her side. Powder squeals with laughter and wriggles away to escape your dastardly tickling.

Vander hangs his head with a huff and a smile before turning to head back to the bar counter. He can hear your conversation continue as Powder escapes your grasp.

“Now, where did you get all these bruises from?”

“Um… Vi taught me parkour from Topside down…”

“Powder! You’re like seven!”

“Seven and a half! And she said I was ready!”

Ever since you began to stick around, you had become something of a parent figure to the four little children Vander had come into care for.

To Vi and Powder especially.

So when Mylo burst into The Last Drop with the words of a fistfight on his tongue, you were the first one out the door.

Vander was close behind.

Mylo led you and Vander deep into the Undercity. In fact, it was so far into the Undercity that Vander was worried they were getting into some dark territory.

Like… Really dark territory.

But soon enough, the sounds of a fight were heard, and soon after, you were deep in the throng of a multi-person fistfight. Everyone paused for a second when they saw you and then stopped altogether when they spotted Vander not far behind.

You began to pull people off and shoved them out of the way. You did this again and again, ducking under a few stray punches until you managed to unearth Vi.

She wasn’t looking too hot.

Her face was bruised and swollen, and the fifteen-year-old spat out a wad of blood as she bared her bloody teeth and prepared to fight again.

At least until she saw you.

It was as if the tension had been released from her shoulders.

She all but slumped into your grasp, and you stumbled back a step with the sudden weight. Vander yanked the last person away from you both and scooped up his adoptive daughter. She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and was obviously fighting back tears.

Mylo was hunched over, hands on his knees, and wheezed from all the sprinting.

“Vi? Violet, can you hear me?” You said as soon as you all returned to The Last Drop, and Vander set her down on the couch. Powder and Claggor had been found a block away, fighting off more thugs from whoever sent them after the literal children.

He would've pummeled them to a pulp if Vander hadn’t hung up his gauntlets years before.

Vi’s head lolled from side to side, and you shone a pocket flashlight into her eyes, watching as her pupils dilated and contracted. You were experienced at this, taking care of people, even more so than he thought.

Were you a doctor deep in your past?

As Vander thought about it, he realized he didn’t know practically anything about you. Your past, your likes, dislikes, he knew you were good with machines and medicine and that you came from a big family. But that was it.

And that hurt his heart.

You ended up ushering everyone out of the room while you worked on caring for Vi. Vander closed the bar early and was in the middle of putting chairs on tables when you emerged. Powder, Mylo, and Claggor dropped what they were doing. They scampered to your side, a chorus of “How’s Vi?” erupting from the kids. You offered them a tired smile and patted their heads.

“She’ll be okay. She’s resting right now. You can go in and see her if you’re quiet.”

And then it was the two of you.

Vander set the final chair on top of the table and meandered his way over where you were sitting at the bar, head in your hands.

You looked tired.

“Is she really okay?” He asked, and you grunted, rubbing at your temples.

“She has a broken nose, fractured left arm, some bruised ribs, and a concussion. Which, all things considered, she’s very lucky. It could’ve been a lot worse.” You say, and he sighs,

“Did she say why she got into the fight?” He replied, and you shrug,

“She was protecting Powder. Then, more people started showing up until it was an all-out brawl. That’s when we stepped in.” You say, and his shoulders sag.

Vi was going to be okay.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said it. But thank you. For everything you’ve done. Taking care of them and all that.” He says, and you just hum.

“You guys gave me a home after everything. I’m just repaying my debt. Well… that and I love those kids.” You say, and he arches an eyebrow,

“After everything?” He inquires, and you glance up sharply as if not realizing what you had said.

Eventually, your gaze casts downward, and you run a hand over your head and through your hair.

“I was a doctor in Piltover before the rebellion. I was caught trying to help the Undercity before they were officially citizens and cast out.” You say, and his arched eyebrow raises even higher.

“A doctor? Were you any good?” You bark out a dry laugh at that,

“One of the best!” Your voice cracks as you speak, and he feels his heart splinter into pieces.

Vander should’ve known that Claggor and Mylo were up to something when they came in with sneaky grins on their faces.

The Last Drop was all but desolate. It was the wee hours of the morning before the people of the Undercity awoke to begin their day. But the door was unlocked, and the kids were allowed to run in and out as they pleased.

Which they had been doing a lot in the last hour or so.

“Vander!” Mylor clamored for his adopted father’s attention, waving an excited hand as he scampered up to the counter. Claggor hung behind, ever the stoic young man. But there was mischief in their eyes and curling the corners of their mouths.

Vander slung the rag he used to wipe the counters down over his shoulder and leaned on the bar counter.

“What did you do now?” He teased, and Mylo all but squawked.

“When have I ever done anything?!” Vander just stared,

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asked, and Claggor snickered at Mylo’s deflated expression. Mylo quickly spun on a heel and jabbed a finger at his adopted brother,

“Not a word outta you, Claggor!” He snapped before spinning back as something dawned on him.

“You gotta come with us!” He demanded, and Vander glanced between the two of them.

“Why?” He asked, and Mylo let out an exaggerated groan.

“No questions! Just come on!” He grabbed Vander’s hand and tried tugging him around the counter and toward the front door.

Vander relented, locking the door behind him as he followed the two boys.

Only to realize very quickly what was actually going on.

His first tip-off was hearing Powder and Vi’s voices, yours mixed in as you asked where you were going, why they were taking you, and what they were doing.

Vi answered no questions. Powder just chirped excitedly. “You’ll see! You’ll see!”

The six of you met in the middle of the street, Powder dragging you by your hand as you followed behind patiently. You glanced up from listening to Powder, and your gazes met. Vander felt his heart skip a beat as he took in your appearance. There wasn’t anything particularly new, but you looked like you had cleaned up some. Your hair was pinned neatly back, and your clothes looked ironed.

You looked… Really nice.

“Vander? What’s going on?” You asked, and Vi nudged you with her good arm. Her fractured left one was still healing carefully under your care.

“We’re setting you two up.” She teased, and you stared dumbly.

“Setting us up how?” You asked, and now it was Powder’s turn to blurt out an answer,

“On a date!”

Before the two of you could react, all four kids all but disappeared around the corner in a cloud of dust. Leaving you facing Vander and utterly alone.

It was safe to say he was panicking just a little bit.

“Vander? Do you have any idea what they meant?” You asked gently, and he scrubbed a hand down his face.

“My guess is they want us to go on a date.” He said, fully prepared to hear rejection. Because who would want to go on a date with him? A middle-aged man with a stained past. His lungs twisted as he heard you take a step closer.

A smaller hand slipped into his, and he looked down from where he had been staring at Topside.

Your eyes were lit up, not with disgust at the proposition he was proposing.

But they were filled with hope for the future this relationship would bring.

#vander x reader #vander x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane league of legends #arcane: league of legends #arcane vander x reader #fairy writes

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applecidersstuff · 2 days ago

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Things different pjoverse characters had done/had happen to them, with little to no context:

Piper mistook Clarrise for a guy and thought ‘he’ was trying to hit on Drew(she’s 12).

Annabeth and Percy were laughing hysterically over it for 10 minutes straight before they could explain anything to her.

Clarrise and Will stole baby Chuck on multiple occasions.

Clarrise is a token ‘responsible adult in the eyes of most mortal parents of younger demigods.

Mortals with no connection to the supernatural look at her like she’s about to molest their kids and brutally murder their families.

All of the Argo || crew jump up in their seats whenever they hear Clarrise yelling at someone.

Percy and Annabeth did the same thing when they heard Coach Hedge yelling for the first time.

Will, Drew and Clarrise occasionally have true crime watching parties.

In the Myth!Ares AU, Aphrodite has kidnapped Clarrise, as she puts it ‘to bond’.

After that they ended up in jail.

Drew called Piper ‘Silena’ once, the same way you’d call someone ‘dad’ or ‘mom’ accidentally, she didn’t speak to her for a week and just cried because she couldn’t forgive herself for replacing her sister.

Clarrise’s smirk is - chin up, look down at you and smile while curling the sides of her mouth down

Drew’s smirk is - chin down, look up at you, grin and wrinkle her nose.

(I have no idea why you need this info, it’s just how i picture their dynamic.)

Ares and Athena cabins have an archive of everything they know about everyone at camp, that they use for planning of capture the flag.

They have a separate archive for hunters of Artemis.

Percy and Clarrise train together a lot. Percy says it’s because he wants to beat her up.

In actuality it’s because at this point Clarrise is the only person who can beat Percy in combat. And they’re the only people, they can train with, using their full range of abilities and power.

Clarrise threw what remained of her helmet into the attic of the Big House after the battle of Manhattan, she now wears none or on rare occasions takes one that belonged to Silena.

Silena’s helmet is covered with ornaments that she scratched onto it and filled in with silver.

Drew and Clarrise both say ‘don’t be mean’ whenever they hear the other talking to someone they have a tendency to be mean to.

Both of them picked that habit up from Silena.

Will once asked Clarrise and Drew to be ‘more ally’

Those two got offended that they ‘have to tone down their gay’

Will just wanted to introduce them to Nico, and needed them to look less judgmental so he wouldn’t think they’re homophonic.

Piper lashed out at Drew for doing something mean, while in Drew’s eyes it was her attempt to create a better relationship with her

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itsnotbird · 3 days ago

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On the Run

Civil War! Bucky x Fem! Reader

Non-canon imagine

Warnings: Language, acts of violence, mentions of Winter Soldier Bucky.

Summary: Your domestic life was good with Bucky, that’s because the two of you were skilled in knowing when it was time to move on. Now, Steve Rogers is here to ‘save the day’, and it isn’t what you two needed.

You used lay awake for hours on end at night, staring at the ceiling, listening to any faint noises in the distance.

That was different now.

Your body knew rest, it knew a sense of comfort. Though it took you awhile to achieve it, and though it wasn’t perfect, the peace was all you needed.

Well, peace and him by your side.

The mattress wasn’t necessarily something to rave about, it was small and springy, but it was a bed and it was suitable. The sheets weren’t pillow soft, but none of those small things mattered when you’re twisted together with a man who made you feel secure no matter what.

You wake to the sun shining in from the kitchen window and the sound of the street of Bucharest outside. Eyes opening, you’re face to face with the picture in front of you. He’s painted golden by the sunlight, face relaxed. No night terrors came for neither you nor him so rest was the only thing in the air.

Hair falling across his forehead, you reach to push it back, then trace the bridge of his nose with the tip of your finger. You gently smile, your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“James.” You whisper, trying to softly stir him. “Bucky, the sun’s up.”

You’ve learned that there has to be a gentle approach to how you wake him, anything too hasty sends him into a panic. So that’s why you whisper to him before pressing your kiss to his face.

It’s a gentle kind of love, one that both of you have never experienced before. And after everything, all the things the two of you endured, it still makes Bucky wonder how it could be so easy for you to be so soft with him, to him. In his corrupted mind, he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve to be roused by you nuzzling against him. But you reassure him every single time that he will never know violence from your touch if you never have to know cruelty from his. Maybe that’s why the two of you are so content in the way you are. You spent your life under the thumb of abusers, now the slice of freedom you have feels like cool water.

Refreshing.

Bucky stirs awake, letting out a soft groan as you kiss the corner of his lips before pushing the covers off yourself.

Those blue eyes open to watch you stand from the bed and stretch your arms over your head, causing the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, to ride up past your thighs and flash your underwear to him.

He smiles to himself.

“I have a job to get to in thirty minutes.” You tell him, wandering off into the bathroom. “Nothing illegal this time…I think.”

Bucky rolls onto his back and chuckles to himself.

“It’s still illegal even if no one gets hurt doing it” He reminds, voice groggy.

You lean against the door frame as you brush your teeth, the toothpaste is foaming in your mouth as you mutter.

“I’m simply an undercover…intel associate who makes her living off of knowing things.” You say before going back to the sink to wash your mouth.

“You’re a spy for hire.” He states as he sits up, rubbing his eyes.

“So are you.” You argue, washing your face. “Don’t be the pot to my kettle, James.”

He rolls his eyes and comes to join you in the small bathroom, pulling sweatpants on as he does so. “To be fair…it’s not like you could go work at the coffee shop.” He says, grabbing your hips as he slides you out of the way so he can grab his own toothbrush.

You hum and pout as you reach for the hairbrush, the one the two of you share because that’s how life is now, sharing things.

“I did apply for the barista position, they rejected me because of my lack of people skills.” You joke.

Bucky looks at you in the mirror, giving you a shrug. “You win some, you lose some.”

You study his expression, then turn to face him with a small, hopeful smile.

“Good day or bad day?” You ask, making him stop and face you.

Bucky nods. “Good day.”

One thing you’ve come to learn is bad days for Bucky are common, more common than bad days for you. Every day, the two of you ask each other the same question just to gauge each other’s mood.

And if Bucky said it’s a good day for him, then it’s a great day for you.

You kiss his cheek, making him give you a sideways grin before you go search for clothes of your own. Buttoning your dark cargo pants, you tie up your boots and go to the dresser drawer that should be housing socks and underwear.

Instead, multiple weapons look back at you as you open it.

You place a pistol in your concealed holster, then pull a jean jacket on.

“It’ll take an hour, two at most.” You say, coming over to Bucky as he watches you.

Reaching for his watch on the counter, you set a timer for how long the job should take and then hand it to him. It’s something the two of you learned to do when separating from each other, something that eases anxiety.

Bucky takes the watch and fastens it to his wrist, then tilts your chin up to meet his eye.

“Don’t get hurt.” He states.

“I promise.” You say, searching his nervous look.

“Don’t…lose control.” He adds.

You swallow the scared feeling.

“Never again.”

With that, he kisses you meaningfully.

Intimacy was something the two of you took a painfully long time to get used to. The idea of letting someone that close was a nightmare, and it took weeks and months after the two of you got away for you to determine what feelings were what. So nothing was ever casual, not when the only relationship you have was each other. In Bucky’s mind, once he figured out how to function it, you were the only thing in life that mattered. He can’t express fear or worry or love in words properly, but he knows if he locks his fingers with yours or kisses you a certain way, you’ll understand.

You always understand.

It makes things easy, you do the talking when he can’t and he expresses feelings in ways you aren’t too sure how to sometimes.

“Be smart.” He says when you finally pull away.

At that, you scoff. “I’m always smart.”

- - - -

He’s found that people watching is calming, like it helps reconnect wires in his brain by learning strangers habits.

Walking through street vendors, he enjoys the fact that his mind has taken the day off on torturing him.

As he goes through the produce section, he stops at a kind man’s booth and looks at fruit in front of him.

Plums.

Your favorite.

He remembers all the stories you used to tell him to get him to fall asleep, how you grew up on an orchard, how you spent days wandering through the plum trees, picking the fruit and laying in the sun while sucking the juice.

He has a brief conversation with the kind man and purchases four plums, just because he knows you’ll look at him in adoration when he presents them to you.

Today was a good day, he slept dreamlessly, he woke up to you, he’s out in public and doesn’t feel on edge-

There.

Just there.

Across the street at the news stand.

Bucky sees the man running the stand look at him a certain way, a way he shouldn’t be looked at. Crossing the street, Bucky approaches the news stand in confusion, and just as he makes a few moves forward, the man flees.

The headline on the papers instantly ruins the previous good mood.

The Winter Soldier, accused of a major bombing.

As he rereads the paper over and over in disbelief, the watch on his wrist beeps.

You should be arriving home.

He heads for that direction.

- - - -

You shut the door behind you and toss the keys onto the counter, walking into the bathroom with the intention of taking a hot shower to wash away the stressful job you just completed.

It all went okay in the end, and a wad of cash is in your pocket, making you feel successful, but it was a harder job than anticipated.

You pull the shower curtain back and just as you reach to turn the water on, the energy around you shifts.

Immediately, you pause, holding your breath and trying to listen carefully.

There’s the sound of boots in the kitchen, and you would claim them to belong to Bucky but you know the sound of his footstep, you know the way his energy feels, you know the feeling you’d have if he were on the other side of the door, and it’s a feeling you do not have.

Steve Rogers looks around the small space.

It’s minimal, a hideout he’s imagined in his head with newspaper on the windows and a serious lack of personal touch. He looks at the made bed, then reaches to pick up something that confuses him a little.

Once he realizes it’s a woman’s bra, he instantly drops it in shock.

He moves into the kitchen, and picks up a notebook laying on a shelf next to vanilla wafers you eat when you’re overcome with nauseating headaches and can’t seem to eat anything else.

Just another lasting side effect from HYDRA.

He opens the notebook and immediately notices Bucky’s handwriting. Flipping through pages, he finds a photo taped to a page free of journal entries.

It’s of a woman.

You.

It’s from when the two of you first found the apartment, you’re taping news papers to the glass, looking rather unamused as your picture is taken when you’re just in a pair of boxer shorts and a band t shirt that falls off your shoulder.

You’re effortlessly gorgeous.

Your name is inked under the photo with the date, almost like he put it there to ensure he doesn’t forget you.

A common fear of Bucky’s.

Steve shuts the book with the intention of taking it back to Sam so they can look into who you are and why you’re in the journal. Sam warns him through the earpiece that german special forces were soon approaching, and he responds, saying that he understood.

You pull the gun from your belt and take a deep breath, slowly twisting the door knob to peer out of the bathroom.

Steve hears a sort of rustle, though it doesn’t come from the bathroom, it comes from behind him wear Bucky has joined the scene.

Standing silently, he looks at Steve with an unsure eye, then looks to the keys on the counter and knows that you are hiding out somewhere.

Steve turns to face his once best friend and lets out a shaky breath.

“Do you know me?” He asks him.

Bucky’s heart pounds in his ears as he pushes through brain fog and tries to run through plans in his head. If Steve Rogers was standing in his kitchen, and the headlines say The Winter Soldier bombed the UN, that means he had to flee fast.

“You’re Steve.” Bucky says. “I read about you in the museum.”

You listen closely to the conversation, trying to run through your own plan.

“I know you’re nervous. You have every reason to be…but you’re lying.” Steve says, still grasping the journal in his hand.

That’s making Bucky twitch.

“I wasn’t in Vienna, I don’t do that anymore.” He says, and out of his peripheral vision, he sees you open the bathroom door just a crack more.

“Well the people who think you did are coming here, and they aren’t going to take you alive.” Steve says in a serious tone, taking a step closer.

“That’s smart, a good strategy.” Bucky agrees, making Steve roll his eyes.

“Where’s the girl?” He asks.

Bucky’s jaw clenches. “What girl?”

Steve shakes his head at the lie, then rips open the journal and points to your picture. “This girl, Buck. Be smart about this, I can help you.”

Breathe.

He has to remind himself.

“It would be helpful if you left right now before it’s too late.” He says, setting his things down and taking off his gloves, flexing his metal hand.

Above you, you can hear heavy boots and your heart stops. You push the door open wider, sneaking your way behind the soldier that’s telling Bucky it doesn’t have to end in a fight, that he could leave with him right now and everything would be fine.

That’s when Steve hears the defining click of a gun being loaded.

“Did someone fail to tell you that this isn’t a task for Captain fucking America?” You say lowly, aiming the gun right at the man. Your heart pounds in your ears, adrenaline and anxiety make you feel sick.

Steve gives Bucky a look, then sighs.

“You had to pick a crazy one?”

Bucky shrugs.

You circle Steve, coming to his front to let him see the angry look in your eye. “You want to see crazy?”

Bucky hooks a finger around your back belt loop and pulls you to him, muttering something in Russian that Steve doesn’t understand. Whatever is asked of you, you look up at him with a slightly scared look. Bucky just stares back at you, giving you a slight head nod, encouraging you silently. That’s the only reason you turn your back on Steve and rush to the closet, grabbing your back pack.

“Buck, I came here to help.” Steve reasons once he’s recovered his shock.

“Leading special forces here doesn’t seem like helping.” Bucky states.

“It wasn’t me who did that.” Steve reasons.

That’s when agents invade the apartment.

It’s a fight, rough and seemingly never ending, and the entire time that you’re trying to escape, Steve is there, trying to reason with Bucky.

“James.” You shout as you’re struggling to hold your own against the three officers you keep dodging.

Immediately, he finds you, ripping the men away from you. Once free, you’re trying to make it down the stairs of the apartment building, but there’s no escape from the troops that are after you.

Barely processing what’s happening as Bucky breaks the glass of the stairwell window, he’s gripping your hand tightly and coaxing you to jump, falling a very far distance to a rooftop. It probably would hurt a whole lot more if Bucky didn’t break your fall.

Eyes squeezed shut as you roll off of him, you pant with gritted teeth. “This is going to bruise.”

“Walk it off.” He says, helping you up.

As the two of you start running, Bucky suddenly falls behind. You look over at him, only to see him battling a…

Cat?

Panicking, you shoot just above the figure, startling it enough to refrain from clawing Bucky’s throat out.

Jaguar hero? Panther man?

“Here kitty kitty.” You call, gaining the enemy’s attention, drawing it to you instead.

“Jesus, who is this chick?” Sam asks Steve as they start to join the scene.

Steve jumps from the window you did moments before. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out!”

Adrenaline is pumping through you, blocking out the crippling fear that this could end badly. There’s a sliver of hope that this would be like the times before on the run, where you find some place new to be from. You and Bucky dodge all the threats, having a shared mindset on just keeping the other alive.

You’ve been in bad situations, but as the two of you end up surrounded by agents and police on the freeway, you think this is far by the worst ending to come of things.

So much for a good day.

And now everyone is being handcuffed, including Steve and the man-bird he has as a sidekick.

Why are all the jungle animals after you today?

Your knees are kicked out from behind you, a man grips your hair and shoves you to the ground, causing you to yell out.

“Let her go!” Bucky shouts from beside you as he himself gets detained. “She had nothing to do with this.” He argues, desperately trying to get them away from you.

“James, what did you do?” You grunt, cheek pressed to the ground, looking at him in the same position.

“Nothing!” He argues. “Just do what they say, it’ll be okay, baby.”

“He bombed the UN.” An officer says, tone angry.

“He can’t even make toast without burning it- ow! I’m really not into hair pulling.” You seethe.

The adrenaline that was once keeping you going has worn down and you’re shaking on the inside as you’re shoved into the back of a military truck.

Your leg bounces up and down, and if his hands were free, he’d stop the motion.

It’s silent, the two officers sitting in front of the two of you stare.

“You still having a good day?” You ask Bucky.

He looks over at you with an irritated look, not irritated with you of course, just in general. “No. This is a very bad day.”

“Don’t speak to the prisoner, ma’am. He’s a threat.” The younger officer says to you.

“This guy’s a threat? He puts spiders outside instead of killing them.” You say with a tone of disbelief.

Bucky says your name as if to tell you to not waste your breath.

You don’t listen of course.

“Hey, why am I not a threat?” You ask.

“You didn’t bomb the UN.” The man reasons.

They’re still stuck on that.

“Maybe I did. You’re not an expert, you weren’t there. Now, I’m not gonna admit it because I know how you narcs work, but I’m going to make you wonder.”

Bucky starts to laugh before the second officer orders the both of you to be quiet.

- - - -

Of course they separate you.

Of course they lock Bucky in some kind of inhuman looking box to make sure he can’t escape and of course they throw you into a room with nothing but a table, two chairs and a surveillance camera.

You try to get out of a good twenty minutes, then scream at the camera for answers, shouting questions.

Steve stands in the office and watches the monitor, eyes flickering back between your live meltdown to Bucky who sits still in his confinement and doesn’t do anything.

“Who’s she?” Stark asks, curious at the scene.

“That would be the side kick.” Sam answers, chuckling as you lunge one of the chairs at the camera.

Natasha joins the men with a file in her hand.

“This is all I could find on her.” She says, handing the folder to Steve.

He reads the information, then gets some sort of clarity.

“I want to talk to her.” He says.

“Absolutely not.” Shannon immediately says.

“She’s how we get through to him.” He argues.

There’s a moment of uncertainty, because the last thing they need is to get into more trouble.

But they do it anyway.

You’re sat in the corner, head in your hands, trying to keep your thoughts straight.

You weren’t a huge fan of being locked in small rooms, probably because a life of confinement is pretty much all you knew.

There’s a sound of the doors electronic lock being opened, and in comes the man you’d rather not see.

Immediately, you stand with your guard up.

“You going to try and shoot me?” Steve asks.

“You took my guns.” You simply say.

Shanon stands guard as Steve comes closer.

“I know we got off on the wrong foot, but believe me when I say I just want to help.”

You laugh, looking at the floor as he continues to talk.

“Is there anything you can tell us that will help his case? Where was he today? Yesterday?” Steve asks, and you glare.

“You want the play by play? Seriously?” You scoff. “Fine. I woke up at eight o’clock, I went to work and left him in the apartment that your guys ruined-”

“They aren’t my guys.” He clarifies.

“-and my guess is he went into the city. I came home and found you rudely invaded my home.” You say sharply, taking a step away when he comes another foot forward.

“I came to warn you that they were after him. To be fair, I didn’t know you existed.” Steve tries to reason, but you just laugh.

“He must’ve forgot to include it in his letters to you, sorry, he’s been a little busy trying to piece his mind back together.” You spit. “The entire point of laying low, is to not let people know you exist, and we were doing a pretty good job at it.” Your anger rises, and your eyes keep flickering back to the woman at the door and wondering if it’s locked.

You could take her, she’d be easy.

Steve grunts in frustration. “Clearly not well enough that special forces found you.”

You lash out. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been found, but we could’ve had a plan if you didn’t butt in. We could’ve already been on a train in the time it took you to try and reason with him.”

Steve huffs and rubs his temples. “If you would’ve come with me, you wouldn’t have had to run. I could’ve helped you.”

“That’s what you don’t get!” You shout. “We have been fine for two years, we had a life, we had a plan for every situation and we didn’t need you. Now look what you’ve done! He’s getting psychologically evaluated, when everyone knows he’s not going to pass whatever test they have for him.”

Your chest heaves as you try to not let your voice crack.

You’re deathly afraid. All the images of lazy mornings and creative dinners flash before you and there’s that overwhelming thought that you’ll never know that peace again.

“I know you’re scared.” Steve says a little softer now. “But if you cooperate-"

The power goes out.

Just like that.

Emergency lighting flickers on lowly, and there’s a moment of silence before the walkie Shanon wears goes off.

“Everybody, get eyes on Barnes, now!”

Wordlessly, Shanon turns out of the room, causing Steve to follow. Though they shut the door behind them, they fail to realize the lock mechanism isn’t going to work now that everything’s fried.

“Idiots.” You huff, flinging the door open.

You run down the halls until you come across the office where they took any belongings you and Bucky had.

You were going to find him and the two of you were going to find a way to get out of this hell. Grabbing both back packs, you try to go towards the direction everyone is fleeing from, knowing that’s where he’ll be.

Maybe that’s the same agenda Bucky has, or more like the agenda the winter soldier has as he’s triggered to take over. He should have known better, that man claiming to be good knew all the right words to get his brain to switch over into some kind of kill mode. He fights his way past everyone who tries to stop him, overwhelmed by a feeling of loss, like he’s supposed to be searching and finding someone. You. That’s it, that’s what he needs to do next.

He stops anyone who comes after him, on a mission to retrieve you.

You burst out of a door, looking around for any signs of him.

There’s many bruised people on the ground, trying to get up and recover.

He had to be close.

Your heart beats loudly in your ears, backing up, you go to turn and run, but his large figure stops you.

“Bucky.” You gasp in relief, immediately handing him his pack. “We have to go, I think we can-”

He grips your wrist, not tight enough to harm, but tighter than he would ever grab you.

You meet his dark eyes and your face pales.

No.

This can’t be happening.

“James.” You speak, though he doesn’t answer, just stares right back at you.

The word is hot on your tongue and it tastes like anguish as you say it. “солдат?”

Soldat.

That, he answers to. With a tug of your arm, he tells you to follow, giving you no time to process anything. Though Bucky has told you many times that he isn’t to be trusted like this, you can’t help but feel like he isn’t going to harm you, not when he’s shoving anyone out of the way and guides you to the roof top helicopter pad.

He sits you in the passenger seat of the air craft.

“пребывание.” He orders, then goes to the other side and somehow manages to get the helicopter roaring up.

You watch Steve rush onto the pad just as the two of you pull away, he runs after you, trying and failing to stop you.

You look down as you get higher and higher, and no time is wasted, you’re being flown far far away.

He doesn’t utter one word, and you aren’t sure if you should either. Trusting him is all you can do.

About an hour later, when you’re far enough away from city limits, the helicopter is being landed in a clearing.

Even as you’re being pulled out of your seat and he grabs his backpack, he doesn’t talk. Walking fast to keep up with him, you follow him for a mile until you stumble upon a bus stop.

He sits you down, then tells you to stay.

He stands and sweeps over the surroundings.

“Soldat.” You say, clenching your hands at the odd place you are put in.

You didn’t think you’d have to experience this version of Bucky again.

Now you have to figure out how to make it go away.

He turns to look at you, blankly.

With a calming breath, you command him to sit. When he does, you try to ignore the ill feeling it gives you, a cruel remembrance of how perfectly trained they had him.

“You have to go away.” You say and it confuses him.

“I will stay with you.” He says.

“You don’t need to.” You reassure.

His brows furrow. “You are my mission.”

“Your mission is complete, well done.” You encourage, grabbing his hand in yours.

He looks at the contact like it’s so foreign, and your heart aches.

“Do you understand? Your mission is complete, your service is no longer needed.” You say, searching his eyes for the light that slowly returns as this soldier sinks back into hiding.

He takes a large breath and shudders.

Then his eyes are frantic and a little confused.

“James.” You speak, reaching to hold his face in your palms. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“What- what happened? Did I- what?” He frantically says, trying to process everything.

“You didn’t do anything extreme.”

He tries to manage his breathing, then examines you fully, making sure there are no cuts or bruises on your skin.

“Hey.” You coo softly, hand on his cheek. “I’m alright, you didn’t hurt me.”

There’s a sense of relief in his eyes, that’s when he pushes his forehead to yours in a painfully human embrace. You push his hair behind his ears, breathing in when he breathes out.

“I’m sorry.” You say, meaning it. “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

He tucks his hand under your hair, bracing on the base of your skull.

“This isn’t on you…we just have really bad luck.”

You laugh, nuzzling your nose against his. “I guess we really aren’t done with being on the run.”

The two of you sit just like this until the bus pulls up beside you. Then you find a seat in the back and lean against the window while Bucky leans against you and keeps a watchful eye of the bus.

“What about the Netherlands?” You offer into the silence, twisting your fingers into his.

“You’re wanted all over the country.” He reminds.

Sometimes the world just wasn’t big enough when your face is on ‘be on the lookout’ posters.

“Norway?” He suggests.

“You really want to go back there?” You raise a brow at him.

“…Scotland?”

You think for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, Scotland will do.”

#bucky barnes #bucky #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier #the avengers #bucky barns x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #beefy bucky #bucky barnes x you #the winter solider x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader

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dsireland86 · 1 day ago

Note

Hii! :)

Can you do imagine request "Nap dates"? I had inspiration when i was listening Angus & Julia Stone's song Nothing Else. Y/n is working for Sumerian Records and is interested tour management. Sumerian sent her with Matt to work with the production so Matt can focus more on audio things. Y/n is first shy and trying to focus 120% only working but Noah is trying to get Y/n in every way. She is almost thirty years old and single, for the first time in a completely foreign environment. She is a native Finnish speaker and still looking for a little communication in English. She's a little shy, slow to ignite, but she's also been eyeing Noah, but scared that everything will go wrong. Her motto has been that you don't eat from the load. She talks a lot about how she misses skin to skin touching, but is too afraid of having relationships or sex with strangers and Noah suggests nap dates. She has a rule: no sex, no kissing, only cuddles and naps. Y/n is gemini ja Noah is Scorpio so they are not compatible and they try their best to fight off their interest in the other, but they still end up trying nap dates. Eventually they become romantically interested in each other and they end up kissing and having sensual, but mind blowing sex.

Nap Dates

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey@rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12@sister-sebastian

The flight from Finland was almost thirteen hours. I check the time once I land then make a quick call to the record label once I'm out of the terminal, following the signs to ground transpiration. Even though this is my first time on any foreign soil, thanks to the help of the internet and the amount of English I know, I'm able to maneuver my way through the airport well enough to get to where I need to be. Still on the phone, my boss tells me there's an Uber waiting for me outside that will take me to the hotel where I'll be staying. In the morning, one will pick me up and drive me to the studio to meet with the man I was sent here to work with.

A while back I mentioned to the label that I was interested in learning more about tour management in America, so they set me up with a guy named Matt with a strange last name I couldn’t pronounce, and arranged a meeting with him via video call. I liked him instantly. He was easy to talk to and had a really nice personality. I knew we were going to be a good match Upon exiting the airport, I see the Uber waiting for me. I climb in and we head to the hotel where I check in, find my room, then showering, and finally sleep. The drive to the studio the next morning is a quick one. I'm nothing but a messy bundle of nerves the minute I walk inside, wondering why I ever agreed to take this job. Turning the corner, I see two men standing in the hall and they both smile the moment they see me. My cheeks redden instantly.

"Hey, can we help you?" a man, wearing a black ball cap asks. He has dirty blond hair down to his shoulders, a pointed nose and a very cute smile. He looks at me as if he recognizes me, and I admit to myself that he, too, looks very familiar. "I, uh, yes. Maybe? I don't know actually."

My English comes out slower than I want it to, but at least they can understand me. The other guy, tall with long brown hair pulled up in a messy bun, smiles at me too and proceeds to speak to me in Swedish. I sigh in perfect joy. We carry on a brief conversation where I explain who I am and why I’m here, learning that his name is Joakim, but his friends call him "Jolly", and that he is part of the band that I'll be working with.

"And this," he says, clamping a hand down on the shoulder of the man with the ball cap, "is Matt, our tour manager." "Oh my gosh, I'm an idiot," I cringe, slapping my forehead with my hand. I look back up at Matt only to see him grinning at me. "You knew who I was the whole time, didn't you?" Matt slowly nods, unable to hide his smile. I nod, too, feeling completely embarrassed. "Hey, don't worry about it," Matt encourages me. "You've had a long couple of days. I'm sure you're beat." "Yeah, just a little. Jet lag is kicking my ass.” "Come," Jolly says, I'll introduce you to the other guys." I nod and follow them down the hall to a room on the right.

Nicholas, Nick who goes by Folio, and Noah; the three remaining band members. I shake each of their hands, smiling shyly at them, but stop and stare hard the moment I get to Noah. He stares at me, his expression is cool and relaxed and his disarming smile penetrates my entire body. Noah seems to be a laid back sort of person and it helps me to relax a bit. Matt takes me over to the sound equipment, asking me questions about what I know and what I'm able to bring to the table as far as tour production, and I'm honest and thorough, telling him what I know and can do. He's impressed and says I'll be a great fit. Glancing over at Noah, I catch the way he's staring at me. His brown almond eyes are deep and entrancing, making it extremely hard to look away. I take a deep breath and exhale it through my nose quickly, trying my best to refocus my attention back to Matt.

It's been three weeks of work and I love my job. Matt is the best. Very easy going and easy to work with. His personality and intelligence match mine when it comes to work and pretty soon, the two of us, along with Noah, have a whole idea planned out for the upcoming tour. Noah is growing on me and I’d like to think I'm growing on him too. Getting to know him more, I learn he’s a little reserved and introverted like me, but very sweet, which is surprising to me considering his stage presence. Everyday I'm around him, my feelings about him change. The fluttery, butterfly feeling that would come and go is permanently there now and it only grows whenever we're together. It's ridiculous, actually. I'm thirty years old, not a teenager. Noah shouldn't have this sort of effect on me; yet he does. And if I'm being honest, I'm beginning to really like the feeling.

The day I met Y/N face to face was the day my world turned upside down. I was drawn to her for reasons I didn’t know or couldn’t understand. I was never known to be a guy interested in the opposite sex to the point it was all I could think about. But she was; she was all I could think about. I couldn't concentrate on anything but her and the way she moved so gracefully and the way she spoke, softly and slowly with her moderate Swedish accent that was thicker than Jolly's and much sweeter. Her smile was simple, but so bright. Whenever she used it, my heart would skip a beat and I couldn't help but smile back. Y/N was also very easy on the eyes. She was distracting. Every time she walked into the room, I found myself staring at her a little more than I knew I should, and the fact that she was single was mind blowing.. A woman like her shouldn't be. We became easy friends. The only problem was, Y/N devoted 1000% of her time to her job, never giving herself time to do anything else. Matt tried telling her not too, that he was afraid she might burn herself out, but she refused to listen to him, telling him it was just her nature to stay so busy.

"So, there really is no man for you back home? No one that interests you?" Y/N shakes her head, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. I managed to steal her away from work for the day, taking her out for coffee, which turns out to be hot cocoa instead. We're sitting on a park bench, overlooking the ocean. A soft breeze swings in, blowing the small strands of hair out her face. I look over at her, taking a moment to soak in her delicate features that make her so pretty, and find myself feeling things for her that I probably shouldn't, yet I just can't help myself.

"What about you?" she asks, turning to face me. The soft twinkle I see makes me smile as I huff a small laugh. "Nope. No one. I mean there have been girls that I thought were pretty and nice, but in the end they just turned out to be too shallow or taken. I find it better to just not go looking for something, but instead let that something find me. I'm not in any rush." Y/N chuckles and takes a sip of her hot cocoa. "You mean to tell me all your fame and money doesn't buy you happiness like everyone says it does?" she jokes. I laugh. Laughing with her is so easy. "I'm afraid not. I don't want to be rich anyway. I just want to find my person and grow old with her." Y/N hums in approval. "How did you get to be so wise, Noah," she smiles, playfully. But I sense some seriousness. "Life wasn't always easy for me, you know. I had to learn that falling apart isn't always a bad thing. It taught me how to become someone, that's for sure." Y/N frowned. "We're all someone, are we not?" "No," I shook my head. "I don't think we are. Most people live life in a bubble, locked up in their minds, completely turned off to reality and what's passing in front of them. They spend their whole life looking for the next best thing instead of enjoying the here and now; instead of being present."

"Wow, yeah, I agree with that," she nodded. "You know, you're not like other guys, Noah. You enjoy going slow and sitting still while you come undone and allow life to pick you apart a little. I like that. It's refreshing." Y/N turns and looks at me and I can't help but trail my eyes over her face and wonder what it would be like to kiss her soft, red lips. She's the first girl I've had these sorts of thoughts about in a really long time. "Thank you," I say quietly. "You're welcome," she says, trailing her eyes over my face as well. "Can I ask you a more personal question?" She hesitates at first, but then says okay. "When was the last time you were with a guy?" Her eyes narrow. "Like? Romantically or sexually?" I feel my cheeks redden a little "Both." A small smile creeps over Y/N's lips.

"Um, it's been a while. I'm really backwards and shy and have zero confidence. Having a sexual relationship with strangers is hard for me because of that. And trying to get into a deep, long term relationship never works out because if I'm not willing to sleep with the guy then he loses interest. "Are you serious? Y/N you're beautiful! You should have a lot of confidence." "Yet, I don't," she laughed, turning away from me. “Also, you’re really hot yet you’re single,” she points out with a sly grin and I laugh. “Okay, point taken.” I playfully shove her in the shoulder as we remain quiet for a moment, processing what we just learned about each other.

"I miss it though," Y/N confesses. "Miss what?" "Skin to skin contact. Not necessarily sexually or anything, but just like hand holding and soft, gentle caresses and touches. Cuddling, gosh I love cuddling," she giggles and it's the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. "Especially when it's cold or raining. Cozying up together and falling asleep, or watching old movies in the dark. Those are the best."

Y/N's description sounds like this thing I read about in one of my weird, self-help books. It's a thing called nap dates and apparently it works when someone is missing the physical touch of another human being, so I mention it to her. "What about nap dates?" She looks at me completely confused, shaking her head. "What are nap dates?" "They're dates that people who are friends or in a platonic relationship have. You hang out with each other, cuddle, watch tv, sleep, you know, boring stuff." "Boring stuff," Y/N laughs, tossing her empty cup in the trash. "Well boring for those who aren't trying to make their relationship go anywhere."

We stand up, and I stretch, working out the kink's in my neck, grimacing in pain. "Are you alright, Noah," she asks, alarmed. "Yeah. I just have this insane knot in my shoulder blade that won't go away. It's been there for days and hurts like hell." "Oh, well sit. I can rub it out for you." I do as she says, making sure she has enough access to my back. The moment she lays her hands on me I feel the instant spark rip through my body. Her touch is electrifying. I can't help but moan and groan over the feeling of the way she works and messages the knot out. It's invigorating. But it's the way she's touching me that has my body all worked up. It's gentle yet confident. Strong yet sweet. And just the thought of never feeling it again sends my mind into a spiral.

"How's that?" I move my arm around feeling immediate relief. "Oh god that feels a million times better. Thank you." Y/N grins. "You're welcome." I take her hand and hold it for a moment, thankful she doesn't pull away. Her eyes are speaking to me, yet I can't read what they're saying. "Noah," "Yeah?" "The idea of nap dates sounds fun." "It does, doesn't it?" "You really want to try it?" "Only if you do," I assure her. "Okay," she grins at me again. "Let's try it. But there's conditions." "Sure," I agree, fighting hard to control my eagerness. "No sex, no kissing. Only cuddling and sleeping." I chuckle. Her conditions seem pretty fair. "Absolutely," I agree." She grins. "Okay, good."

The rain is pouring down outside as Noah and I lay on the couch together, cuddled up under a warm, thick blanket. My leg is wrapped around his and I’m curled into him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I'm engulfed by the scent of him and it makes me lightheaded. The abnormal fluttery feeling in my stomach that always comes around whenever Noah and I are together is hitting me hard in my chest, making my heart race. I'm not sure if it's anxiety or nerves, but it makes me snuggle into him deeper and wrap one arm around his torso. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Are you okay, Y/N," Noah asks softly. I know his eyes are still glued to the tv as his favorite show plays quietly in the background. He has one arm beneath me, holding me so I won't fall off the couch, while his other one is tucked under his head. "Yup I'm fine," I say sleepily, yawning big. "Awe, you tired?" I nod slowly. "Go to sleep. We have nowhere to go or nothing to do," Noah suggests, bringing his hand down on my head and slowly caressing my hair. The warmth of Noah's arms are the very thing I need to help me drift off into a lazy, comfortable nap.

The night belonged to them. Nothing but the stars and the full moon watched them from way up above as they kissed one another. With her on her back, hands wrapped around his tattooed neck and fingers snaking through his newly trimmed brown hair, and him leaning over her, fingers tracing her cheekbones then caressing the side of her face, Y/N and Noah embraced the sensual feelings rushing through their bodies.

Night after night, day after day, their nap dates slowly began to take a different turn; they had developed strong feelings for one another. At first it started with their hands finding each other, fingers intertwining and playfully locking together. Then came the looks and slight smiles whenever they were around each other, the ones they thought they were being so secretive about. Finally, it came boiling over the night a huge storm rolled in with horrible wind, thunder, and lightning, knocking out the power for hours. It scared Y/N, making her cling to Noah as if her life depended upon it. Noah sang to her, held her while she rested her head quietly in his lap as he played with her hair. She fell asleep, only waking when she realized she was being carried to her bed. "Noah, please don't leave. Stay with me.” "Alight, I will," he promised, crawling into the bed next to her. The feeling of her body pressed so tightly against him made resisting the urge to kiss her impossible, but he did it anyway.

At first he thought Y/N would panic, freak out, or get mad at him because of their agreement when they first arranged their nap dates. But Y/N did the opposite. She turned all the way over, facing him and allowed Noah to devour her lips, her mouth, and her body, stopping only when it was about to go too far. "Not yet, not like this," Y/N whispered in the dark. The word "yet" clung to Noah's heart and mind like a magnet. He agreed, kissing her once more.

Now, here they were, tangled up in one another beneath the stars, unable to stop their hungry appetite for the other. "Noah, let's go home," Y/N mumbled against his lips. Noah smiled at her mention of the word "home". "Why? I like kissing you beneath the stars." Y/N giggled. "I know, but I'm not comfortable enough to do this out in the open. I’m sorry. I hate being the way I am sometimes.” Noah stopped kissing her and met her gaze. "I like you just the way you are," he told her, loving the way she smiled at him. He pulled her in and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. "I want to do nothing else but fall into your arms and let you have your way with me. I just can't do it here." Y/N confession had Noah's mind reeling. "You're going to let me have my way with you?" he asked. "If you'll have me," she answered quietly. Noah grabbed her and kissed her, standing up immediately after they parted. "Let's go."

Noah opened the hotel room door for Y/N and she walked in as he flipped the light switch on, locking the door behind him. His tall frame loomed over her small figure that was the picture of perfection against the black backdrop of the room behind her. She stared at him with eyes so intense he thought she could see right through him. And in that moment, Noah wanted nothing more than to just feel her naked body against him.

Leaving just the entry light on, he guided her back into the darkness of the room, thankful that the soft glow of the moonlight and the parking lot lights filled the room with enough light for them to still see one another. Noah ran his hands down her arms, feeling the instant prickle of her skin as he did so, making him shiver, too.

Without a word, he removed his shirt, then his shoes and socks, moving close to help Y/N do the same. Even though he knew she wanted to do this, she still looked alarmed. "When was the last time you were with a guy?" Y/N was quiet for a moment, unsure if she should be truthful or not. But, to do this right, she knew she had to be. "Two years ago." Noah's mouth fell open. "Why? I mean, I don't... " "There was no one worthy enough, that's all. I don't just sleep with anyone for fun, Noah. I have more respect for myself than that," she stated firmly. He closed his mouth quickly "Does this mean I'm worthy enough? Us being here together, alone, about to do the very thing you say you don't give to just anyone?" Y/N smiled up at Noah shyly, raising her arms as he lifted her shirt above her head and tossing it to the floor next to his. "Yes, Noah. You are more than worthy enough. I want to give in to you completely, mind, body, and soul. I just need to be assured that I won't regret it in the end."

He held her face in his hands when he kissed her. Noah didn't ever want her to go away again. It was as if her mouth had suddenly held all the oxygen that kept him alive. Undoing the clip of her bra, Noah gently pulled the straps down and she let it fall, revealing herself to him. He sucked in a slight breath, licking his lips instantly. "I have such a fucking weakness for you, Y/N," Noah confessed, carefully pushing her down on the bed and laying her back. "I have since the moment I saw your face on that video call. I was drawn to you, for reasons I didn't understand." He latched his fingers around the waistband of her leggings and pulled them off, leaving her only in her white cotton panties, which he quickly took off and shoved into the pocket of his joggers. "For safekeeping," he winked at her, making her giggle.

Looking down, Noah stared at the naked body before him on full display. Y/N was beyond beautiful. She was a perfect work of art, something to be worshiped and adored. Lowering his face, Noah trailed slow kisses over her stomach, feeling how it dipped from the way his lips tickled her, making him smile against her skin. Y/N ran her hands through his hair, moaning from the feeling of it running through her fingers as Noah placed kisses all over the front of her body.

From her stomach to her breasts, Noah went slow and steady tasting every single part of her. Wrapping an arm around her waist he arched her back and rolled her hardened nipple with his tongue making the noises coming out of her sound so intoxicatingly sinful. He was obsessed with her, and every touch, every sound made Noah feel more unhinged. He sucked her breast into his mouth as much as he could, nipping at her silky skin while flicking her nipple with his tongue over and over. Pulling back, Y/N cried out in protest of his absence, making him chuckle darkly. Standing to his feet, Noah slipped off his joggers and boxers at the same time, freeing his hard erection. The sight made Y/N shiver with absolute lust, and she couldn't wait to have him between her legs. "Spread your legs for me, Princess, and do as I say, alright," he whispered in her ear. Y/N obeyed, releasing a loud, content sigh over feeling him between her thighs.

"I want you in the worst way, Y/N," Noah confessed, rutting himself lightly against her soaked, throbbing core. She was already a panting mess, ready for whatever happened next. "Your taste, your scent, and I want the feeling of your skin next to mine. I want it all tonight," he whispered, staring her straight in the eye. Y/N swallowed, placing her hand on Noah's cheek. "Then take me, Noah. I'm all yours."

Without another word spoken, he reached down and guided the tip of his hard cock to her entrance and eagerly began taking her at his pleasure. Noah felt like heaven inside her. The sound of her first escaped moan as her body took him in and he spread her open wide was the best music to fuel his passion. He shivered when her nails dug into his back and his head fell into the crook of her neck as he began to pump hard and fast into her tight, wet core. The sheer ecstasy of it all threatened to tear them both apart and shatter them into a thousand pieces.

Noah grabbed Y/N's hips with purpose, aligning himself perfectly so that he could thrust hard and completely down to the very base of all he had to give her. She moaned for him, wrapping her legs tight around him and squeezing with all her might. No longer caring who could hear, Y/N cried out his name, biting his shoulder and pulling him in close to suck the warm, wet skin of his neck, Noah's own breathy moan seemed to accompany her sounds perfectly as his cock filled her entirely and hit the soft spongy spot of her cervix. Nothing could make him weaker than the feeling of her clinging to him and moaning "harder" in his ear as he bottomed out inside her, trying his best to cling to sanity.

"Oh god, you feel so good. Fuck," Noah groaned breathlessly, as he felt her writhe beneath him. "I'm a fucking mess for you, Y/N," he confessed, pounding into her a little harder and clamping his large hand around her thigh, pulling it up higher to get a better angle. She pulled his face into hers, latching her lips to his and feverishly kissing him while tugging on his hair collected between her fingers. "Fuck!" Noah growled," thrusting harder.

"Noah, I'm close," she whimpered. "I know, I can feel you. Goddamn, you're so tight, baby," he groaned. The pad of his middle finger rubbed circles along her clit, pressing down a little harder and making her squirm in delight. The way her back arched off the mattress mixed with her wetness gathering on his fingers, Noah knew she didn't have much longer. His hand took her leg and hiked it up higher against his side so that he could thrust even deeper down within her. The screams of her pleasure, echoing off the walls of the hotel room were pornographic,

"Noah," she cried, running her nails down his back, making him seethe in pain and pleasure. "That's it, cum for me, baby," Noah ordered, moaning as his head fell into her neck once again. Y/N's hands moved up his chest and around his neck and he made a sound deep in his throat that thrilled and frightened her to the point that her trembling walls shattered around his cock and she came as the hot rush of blood pulsed through her veins. Every muscle in her body tightened around Noah as he guided her through her orgasm until he felt himself tightening. He thrusted into her once, twice then pulled out and groaned deeply, spilling his warm release over her stomach

Spent, Noah's head fell against hers, his sweat mixing with her dampness, and he kissed her, long, hard, and still full of so much need. He rolled over and got up, heading for the bathroom Y/N laid there, panting, dazed over what just happened. Never in her life had she experienced sex like that before and now that she had, she only craved it more, but only if it was with Noah. He came back to bed carrying a warm and dry cloth, carefully cleaning up his mess. She watched him through sleepy eyes, sweetly caring for her until she was clean.

Noah tossed the towels to the floor and pulled back the blankets, climbing beneath them, still fully naked. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him as if to question if he was sure and he held up the blanket, motioning for her to come close. She was sleepy so she crawled over to him and snuggled deep under the blanket that Noah tossed over her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into him so that her back was pressed tightly against his chest." You have no idea how much I like you," Noah confessed quietly to her in the dark. "How much you make me smile and how much I love talking to you." Y/N smiled to herself, squeezing his arm in approval. "Yes, I do," she replied. Noah was quiet for a moment. "Then you know how much I wish you were mine." She took a breath and sighed, and because she felt so warm and safe, Y/N closed her eyes. "You have me, Noah. Until the very last star in the galaxy dies, I'm yours."

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fan fiction #bad omens fan fiction #bad omens #bad omens cult

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fatgirlonadate-blog · 2 days ago

Text

21 Days - Day 15

Something inside of Xavier has shifted. You can’t quite define it or give it a name, but you can sense it, see it in every glance and feel it in every touch. He is not the same man he was yesterday.

What a difference a day can make.

The change isn't anything obvious—most things haven't changed at all. He is as shy and sweet and earnest as he has always been. He still blushes when you touch him, he still pouts when you tease him, and he is still playful and warm.

But the shadow behind his eyes, the hint of sadness in his smile, is disappearing. There is a growing certainty in him that was not there before, as if he has made a choice -some choice- and it has freed him in a way that seems to extend beyond just his secrets.

It's absurd, but you can't shake the thought that he chose you yesterday—that, somehow, you were always a choice he had to make. You don’t even know what the alternative might have been, but now, when he looks at you, the affection in his eyes feels complete, as if it’s here to stay.

Maybe his fevered promise not to leave again was truly meant for you after all. But that only raises more questions—had he been planning to leave you? And when did he leave the first time?

If you were the choice, then what was the other option?

He has remained tight lipped about this particular detail - unwilling to share any part of it. Other small secrets about his past have trickled out in fragments over the past 24 hours—never fully explained and always a little vague, but still unmistakably genuine. He’s trying to open up, and you’re trying your best not to push him. The rest will come later, you tell yourself.

In the meantime, you have a much more immediate issue to deal with.

There is no other way to put it - Xavier has become adorably, maddeningly clingy. He hasn’t let you stray more than an arm’s length since yesterday, and if he weren't so infuriatingly old fashioned, you're pretty sure he'd have slept with his cock buried deep inside you last night. Instead, he’d settled for holding you close, your back pressed firmly to his chest, with his hand resting possessively between your thighs.

It’s not exactly a bad thing; in fact, you love him even more like this. Every time he teleports to your side instead of walking, you can’t help but laugh, as if the seconds saved are simply too precious for him to waste. You marvel at the confidence in his touch now, the way he explored your body this morning like he owns it. And you fall even deeper for him every time he willingly gives you some crumb of information about who he really is.

You're savoring every moment with him and wish you could pause time and stay like this, just the two of you, forever. But you have a plan today - one that he cannot be a part of because it would spoil the surprise.

"Xavier," You whisper, trying to pull away from his insistent kisses, "I really do have to go soon. I have to check in with Jenna. In person this time. You know how she feels about being kept waiting."

Xavier acts as if he didn’t hear you, keeping you pinned firmly against the front door. His lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, biting gently before soothing it with a warm flick of his tongue. By now, he’s already delayed you at least ten minutes with those distracting, lingering kisses—reminders of just how skilled he is with his mouth.

"Xavier," you say more firmly.

He huffs as he pulls back just far enough for his blue eyes to lock onto yours, and the pout in them is nearly enough to break you.

"Why are you calling me that?" He asks, his forehead dropping to yours as he holds you to him, his nose rubbing against yours.

"What?"

"You usually call me Xav now. Or bunny."

A soft laugh escapes your lips at his confused, slightly pouty tone. "Xavier… Xav, I really need to—"

"But...," He protests, ducking his head to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck again. "Let's go together. We're partners. I go where you go."

"It's supposed to be 24-hour surveillance, Xav. You know we both can't go. We already agreed on this yesterday."

"Yesterday was yesterday. Can't we make a new agreement today?"

The whine in his voice is killing you, but you really do want to surprise him. This birthday needs to be special; he deserves to feel special.

"Not this time, Xav."

Xavier's mouth trails down to your neck, each kiss sending a spark through you as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you firmly against him. You have to bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning as you feel the insistent press of his hardness against you, even through the layers of clothing.

"Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?" he murmurs, his voice a low, promising whisper.

His mouth is pure temptation against your skin, making it hard to remember why you need to leave. But there will be time for this later—hopefully endless time, forever, if you have anything to say about it.

"Bunny, please." You breathe out, threading your fingers through his hair to gently tug his greedy lips away from your skin. "I have to get going. I'm going to be late."

Xavier pulls back and fixes you with the saddest puppy dog eyes that have ever existed. "I can't believe you'd actually...leave me alone in this house."

"I'll make it up to you when I get home, I promise. And I won't be gone long."

Xavier sighs and nods as his arms tighten around your waist. He lets out a defeated groan, and mumbles, "How long?"

"It's just a few hours. I'll be back before you know it." You smile gently at the boyish sulk that has spread across his face as he continues to mope and press small kisses along your jaw.

Finally he gives in and lets out a heavy sigh that fans out along your skin. “Alright,” he grumbles, releasing his hold on your waist and taking a step back.

The small bit of distance clears your head just enough, and you shake it slightly, trying to dispel the lingering desire coursing through you. God, this man has you so wrapped around his finger that you can barely think straight.

You flash him a quick smile and turn to open the door, but pause, throwing him a puzzled look as he moves to follow you.

"Xav, you know you can’t come with me, right?" you say, a mix of amusement and exasperation in your voice.

He nods, pulling the door open and gesturing for you to go ahead, slipping an arm around your waist as he guides you through. "I know," he says with a grin. "I’m just escorting you to the station. I’m allowed to do that, aren’t I?"

It’s hard to believe that the man who used to vanish for days, even though he was just next door, now can’t imagine being apart from you for more than a few hours. It’s a clinginess you’re not used to—not from him, not from anyone—but oddly, it doesn’t bother you. There’s something deeply comforting about being wanted this much, and you can’t help but hope it never changes.

"I’ll miss you," you say, rising on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Xavier’s cheek as your train pulls into the station. "And try not to blow up the house while I’m gone, alright?"

He looks like he wants to argue, his hand tightening around yours, but then his eyes soften, and he gives you a gentle smile, slipping into his practiced, fake-husband role. “Come back soon, Mrs. Shen. Stay safe.”

He’s an exceptionally good fake husband. So convincing, in fact, that the word itself—fake—irritates you as it echoes in your mind on the train ride into the city. Your marriage to him is fake, yet with each passing day, it feels more real. The thought of it ending… It's almost unthinkable.

As soon as you step off the train and into the city, your plan for the day begins to unravel. The check-in with Jenna is mercifully brief, but her urgency to wrap up this mission leaves you tense and uneasy as you navigate sidewalks that are already too slick for comfort.

Snow in October is a rarity in Linkon, but here it is—thick, heavy flakes falling from the sky, dusting the sidewalks in a thin layer of white. It’s beautiful, but bitterly cold, and you're not dressed nearly warm enough for it.

You shiver as you wander from shop to shop, collecting things for Xavier’s birthday. A surprise party had crossed your mind, but inviting a bunch of fellow hunters to your covert mission apartment didn’t exactly scream discreet. So instead, you’ve opted for something simpler—something you hope he’ll love, even if it has the potential to set the place on fire.

But if it makes him happy? It just might be worth the risk.

The cake ingredients were easy enough to acquire, but the decorations were trickier, the items scattered throughout the city, rather than all together in one single shop. By the time you finish collecting everything for the perfect birthday cake, you're freezing and damp with snow.

The warmth of the nearby cafe and the promise of something sweet was impossible to resist, and you sigh with relief as you dump your shopping bags onto a table and strip off your cold, damp jacket. A steaming cup of hot chocolate and three macarons later, your phone buzzes in your purse. You dig through the clutter of your wallet and keys to find your phone. It vibrates in your hand again as you pick it up and the screen glows with a notification:

(4) Voice Messages from Xavier

Xavier: Is it snowing there?

Xavier: We ran out of vinegar. Can you get some on your way home?

Xavier: Are you on your way back yet?

Xavier: Are you talking to someone outside right now?

You try not to smile at your phone like an idiot, but you fail as warmth floods through you at the sound of his voice. It’s amazing how a handful of words can make you feel so secure. There's something foreign but comforting about having someone care for you like this - someone waiting for you to get home. It's been a long time since you've had such a simple luxury, and you hadn't realized how much you've missed it.

You: I have to stop and pick up a few more things. But I'll be home soon.

Xavier: What do you want for dinner?

You're contemplating the least disastrous option as footsteps approach your table, and you glance up just in time to see a familiar face.

"Fancy meeting you here, miss bodyguard. There are easier ways to find me, you know. You don't have to stalk me." Rafayel smirks.

He slides into the chair across from you, meeting your wide-eyed gaze as he casually plucks a green macaron from your plate and takes a bite.

Has he always looked like that? you wonder as he flashes you a playful, disarming smile.

Seeing Rafayel is like looking at a masterpiece—he’s almost too perfect, so striking it’s hard to believe he’s real. You thought you’d grown used to his looks ages ago, that you had built up a certain immunity to it. But a few weeks apart have undone that, leaving you vulnerable to his effortless charm again.

Xavier is undeniably handsome, but Rafayel—even dressed simply in a sweater and dark pants—is goddamned majestic.

"Raf! Hey! Uh, what...what are you doing here?" You manage, surprised.

He's wearing his signature look of lazy amusement. His inky purple hair is slightly damp from snow, and he runs a hand through it as he takes another bite of your dessert.

"What do you mean? I come here all of the time. Shouldn't I be asking you that question? You're supposed to be locked away somewhere trying to catch a bad guy, yeah?"

"Oh, shut up. I haven't been locked away; the mission is just taking a while. I came into town today for a mission update." You say, and wave toward your bags, "and some shopping."

His eyes flick toward your bags, narrowing on the pastel letters spelling 'Happy Birthday' across the card that's peeking out.

"Mission update, hm? Interesting," he drawls as he pops the remaining bit of macaron in his mouth. "I'm surprised you escaped your tower, your highness. You haven't really bothered to respond to my texts for the past week. I was starting to think you'd been captured or that you got possessed by Wanderers or something."

"Uh," you stammer, quickly sliding another bag over the one he's eyeing, shifting awkwardly in your chair. "Sorry about that. I’ve just been... really busy."

Though his tone is playful, there's a hint of hurt beneath it that tugs at your heart, just as it always does. He’d deny it until he was blue in the face, but you know he can’t stand feeling ignored—and it sucks to know you're the reason for it this time.

He shrugs and leans back, draping his arms across the back of his chair as he casually crosses an ankle over his knee. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Secret missions and saving the world and whatever. Same as always."

The tired sound of resignation in his voice makes your smile falter, and you can only guess at what's really going on behind those galaxy eyes of his.

After countless late-night phone calls, you used to wonder if there might be something real between you and Rafayel. He was a flirt—that much had been clear from the start—and you’d brushed off his advances, wary of reading too much into them. But sometimes, when it was just the two of you, when the flirting grew a little more heated or the light touches became bolder and hungrier, you were almost certain there was something more. That he felt it, too.

But he never took it further, and the moment would fade as if it had never happened at all.

It doesn’t matter now, you remind yourself, tearing your gaze away to stare out the window. The sky has darkened, snow falling steadily against the glass, and your train will be leaving soon. Whatever might have been between you is just a memory now—one you are scared to dwell on any longer.

"We'll catch up when my mission is over, okay?" You swear, rushing the words as you stand up and shove your jacket on, reaching for the bags on the floor. "I'll come over, you can tell me all about your newest exhibit, and we'll make fun of Thomas together. I pinky promise."

"What?" His eyes widen, and he quickly stands, reaching out to still your hand as you go for another bag. "You’re leaving already? You just got here."

"Raf—" You sigh, guilt gnawing at you for more than one reason. Xavier is waiting. "I really do have to go. My train leaves soon."

His grip tightens around your wrist, his warm hand almost scorching hot as he stares at you with a rare flash of desperation in his eyes. It makes him look vulnerable for just a fraction of a moment, and something inside you tightens, torn between the urge to ease the ache you've caused in him and the need to put distance between yourself and old feelings you’d rather not think about.

"Let me walk you to your stop then," he says, his tone light and easy, but he's still holding your hand prisoner. His suggestion isn’t really a suggestion—it’s more of a demand.

"Fine," You say, rolling your eyes dramatically even as a smile forces its way onto your face. "But make yourself useful. Help me carry this stuff."

Rafayel grins and lets go of your wrist, bending to scoop up most of the bags. "Jeez, these are pretty heavy. I better get some kind of awesome reward for all of this labor."

A chill wind and swirling snowflakes greet you as you step out of the café, making you mutter a curse under your breath. If you’d known it was going to snow, you’d have worn a real coat.

"I hate snow," you grumble as you fall into step beside him.

"What do you mean?" he grins, bumping your hip with his. "Snow is like magic. Look around!"

He gestures to the snow-dusted trees and buildings blanketed in white. "Each flake is unique, perfect in its own way, turning everything ordinary into something miraculous, if only for a moment. And...it also looks really pretty in your hair."

His enthusiasm is infectious, and his words make you feel warm despite the chill wind cutting through the thin material of your jacket. Maybe you don’t actually hate snow after all.

The walk to the station goes by in a blur as you catch up on the last two weeks: gossiping neighbors, Thomas, how cold the city is this year, his new exhibition, your boring surveillance work—keeping it light and casual.

It almost feels like nothing has changed—the two of you chatting, him cracking jokes and teasing you to get a reaction, and the way your stomach flutters every time he brushes against you. He doesn’t do that by accident; you're sure of it.

A pang of longing hits as you realize just how much you’ve missed this. Despite how he gets under your skin like no one else, his friendship means more than you’d ever care to admit.

Yes, he drives you crazy, and your feelings for him are confusing—but he’s always had this way of making the world seem brighter, lighter, and somehow more beautiful than you could ever see it on your own.

"It's so cold. I’m frozen solid," you declare, setting your bags down on the bench outside the train station. You’re about ten minutes early, and the air is only getting colder. Your fingers sting with the chill, and you blow on them in a vain attempt to warm up.

Rafayel sets the rest of the bags beside yours with a chuckle, shaking his head, "You're right, it is cold. Too cold for my delicate hands." He pouts, his brows knitting together as he exaggerates a shiver and opens his arms wide. “Hold me.”

"Raf..." You laugh, amused and exasperated.

"Come on, cutie. Don't you know how body heat works?" He quirks a brow, stepping toward you. "You wouldn't let me freeze to death, would you?"

His smile is dazzling, effortlessly charming, and completely irresistible—the kind that melts your resolve into a mushy mess. It’s the sort of smile that can't be refused.

You reluctantly return his smile, already mostly deaf to the alarm bells ringing in your ears, and step into his embrace. “Okay, okay. Just for a little while.”

Rafayel laughs, a warm sound rumbling through his chest as he wraps one arm tightly around you, pulling you close. With his other hand, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, his cold fingers brushing gently over your cheek and neck. The sharp, clean scent of him—citrus and sea salt—fills your senses as you lean into him, soaking in his warmth.

The alarm in the back of your mind grows louder, more frantic, the closer you get. Yet the soft thrum of his heartbeat, syncing with yours, drowns it out, and the warmth of his breath against your skin is enough to silence the knot of warning you feel in your stomach. The familiar scent that clings to him wraps around you like a shield, blocking out even the smallest of doubts.

"Hold still," he says softly, his fingers threading through your hair as he gently combs it out. "You've got snowflakes in your hair."

A sarcastic remark hovers on the tip of your tongue—of course you have snowflakes in your hair, he does too, it's snowing—but the warmth in his eyes as he strokes your hair holds you silent. His fingers are gentle as he carefully smooths your hair back even as more snowflakes continue to fall, and he leans even closer to see his task clearly in the dim evening light.

Your cheeks flush as he moves closer, leaning into you, and a familiar warmth builds inside of you, making it hard to breathe evenly. You turn your head away from his hand, but he frowns and gently cups your cheek, tilting your face up to his.

"Hey," he scolds gently, "I'm not done. Don't move."

But his hand doesn’t return to your hair. Instead, he gently caresses your reddening cheek, a soft smile spreading across his face. "You're being pretty shy," he murmurs.

And you are. No sarcastic remarks or witty comebacks come to mind, not with the way he’s pressed against you, the softness of his touch on your cheek, and with his face so close to yours. The only sound you can make is a quiet hum that doesn't mean anything at all.

His eyes roam from your cheek to your ears and down to your neck, and he slides his hand along the same path. "Hmm. Your cheeks, and your ears, and even your neck...are all so cold. Do you want me to help warm you up?"

It’s not just warmth in his eyes anymore; it’s heat, and your stomach flips as he drops the tone of his voice to a low purr. The feel of his warm breath against the side of your neck makes your pulse quicken and your own breath catches in your throat.

"Is it working?" He whispers, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks.

You nod, barely breathing, as the heat that has built inside of you threatens to ignite into a blaze, your body trembling as you press against him.

“What about here?” Rafayel asks, shifting to the other side of your neck. His warm breath caresses your cool skin before he nuzzles close, trailing slow, lingering kisses from your ear to your neck.

He’s never kissed you before; of that, you’re certain. Yet somehow, in this moment, it’s as if you’re reliving a memory. His warmth, his scent, his touch, the way his body presses against yours—it feels natural, achingly familiar, as if you’ve known it all along. You could lose yourself here, drown in the sensation, and never surface again.

You’re trembling, but not from the cold, as Rafayel pulls back, his hands gently cupping your face. “You’re so quiet,” he says, his voice laced with curiosity. “I haven't the slightest idea of what’s going on in that head of yours. Have my awesome heating skills truly rendered you speechless?”

All you can manage is a shaky laugh, more like a breathless gasp, unable to form a single coherent word as a wave of déjà vu hits you, overwhelming and intense.

"Looking at my bodyguard..." He pauses, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "I can't tell if she's happy right now..." Leaning in, he brushes a soft kiss against the corner of your lips, then locks eyes with you. "Or maybe she's not?"

You stare, wide-eyed, unable to break free from the grip of the dizzying familiarity of this all— frozen in place by how deeply, unexplainably right it all feels.

"Raf, I..." You trail off, lost for words, unsure of what you're trying to express, but knowing you have to say something. Anything. That you can't do this with him, or that you need more of him. Or that, sometimes, two things can be true.

Before you can untangle your thoughts or find the words to express your conflicted feelings, he silences you with a kiss. It’s gentle at first, tentative—his lips brushing softly against yours. Then the kiss deepens, his mouth pressing to yours with an intensity that feels raw, as if the longing comes from the depths of his soul.

You’re drowning now, clinging to him as if he’s your anchor amid the waves of emotion and memory crashing over you. For a moment, time and space collapse, and it feels like this has always been your life, as if this is just one second in a lifetime spent with him like this.

But the brush of his tongue against yours snaps you back to reality, and you tense in his arms, your hand moving to the back of his neck to gently pull him away.

"What?" he whispers, breaking the kiss as he rests his forehead against yours. "Do you want me to stop?"

His voice sounds so tender and hopeful that it breaks your heart a little, and your stomach twists with guilt as you lean away from his embrace.

In another life, you’d beg him to keep going. In another universe, you’d be his completely—mind, body, and soul. You can feel the way his heart calls your name.

But not this life; not in this universe. In all of the world, there is only one call your heart answers to, and it is Xavier's.

“Raf,” you whisper, your voice soft and aching, “I’m so sorry, but—”

"I know what you're going to say," Raf cuts you off before you even finish, hurt replacing the warmth in his eyes, "Sooo you don't have to say it."

He drops his hands from your face and steps back, and the cold wind that cuts through you is nothing compared to the burning ache flaring to life in your chest.

He runs a hand through his hair, shaking loose a few snowflakes, and lets out a bitter laugh. “I guess things with the ‘fake’ husband aren’t so fake anymore, yeah?”

"I love him," you admit, the words escaping before you can stop them, leaving you stunned. You’d never said it out loud before, never dared to voice what you felt. But now it’s out, and there's no taking it back.

Rafayel laughs again, a choked sound that gets stuck in his throat, and looks up at the sky as if searching for an answer there. After a moment, he groans softly before his eyes return to yours, "Oh, that intense, huh?"

You nod, silent, unwilling to say anything more for fear of deepening the hurt in his eyes. The few feet of space between you feel insurmountable, and you itch to close the distance, to reach out and comfort him somehow.

Rafayel sighs, his hand motioning toward the empty air, as if Xavier were standing here, too. "Is he... is he better than me?"

"No, Raf," You groan, the ache in your heart burning even brighter, "He's not better. It's just...different. I can't explain it."

Rafayel looks away again, his lips pressing together in a tight line, before turning back to you with an uncharacteristic seriousness in his eyes. "Just...promise you won't forget about me, okay?"

Tears sting your cheeks, and the hurt, desperate sound of his plea is all the proof you need to understand that a broken heart can keep breaking.

"Oh, Raf, I could never forget about you," you promise, stepping closer. You reach for his arm just as the train pulls into the station, the loudspeaker announcing its arrival.

"I won’t," you swear, ignoring the blaring sound. "Never."

He steps back from your outstretched fingers, and his voice and eyes harden as he replies, "You will. You always do."

The train stops, passengers streaming past, and you open your mouth, trying to reassure him—but no words come. A wave of uncertainty hits as his cryptic words echo in your mind, and you fail to make sense of them.

The option to reach for him, to pull him close and comfort him, is stolen from you as he turns around and starts walking back in the direction you came.

"Get on the train," he calls over his shoulder, "Don't keep Romeo waiting."

You hesitate, your fist clenching as your heart and mind fight for control. Watching him walk away feels like losing a part of yourself, though you can't quite understand why.

You board the train with tears in your eyes, and search through your purse for your phone. You send a quick message to Xavier to let him know you'll be there soon, and try to collect the pieces of your heart as the train speeds toward home.

Xavier chose you yesterday. And today, you chose him.

This star isn't going anywhere.

#lads fanfic #lads x reader #lads xavier #love and deepspace #lnds #fanfic #xavier x reader #lads sylus #lads rafayel #l&ds xavier #l&ds rafayel #l&ds

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stabbyfoxandrew · 3 days ago

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i dont know if you are still doing these but!! id love a kiss on the hip for kandrew :) <3

Kevin Day is not a virgin. He understands sex and most of its mechanics. He's slept with a few people in his life, he's also sampled plenty of porn genres.

But none of that compares to this. To having Andrew's full and complete attention. To having Andrew on his back in his bedroom in Columbia. He's not quite sure how they ended up here. Of course, he understands the logistics of getting to Columbia from Palmetto State.

He knows the route they always take, he knows the right exit, he knows how to find Nicky's house.

How he got to this point he's not sure.

All he knows is Andrew and Neil were planning to come here this weekend for a bit of alone time. Just the two of them, no one else to bother them. That's what Kevin thought at least. Until Neil knocked his shoulder into Kevin's side at practice earlier and told him to pack a bag. When Kevin asked why, Neil merely shrugged. "Andrew said to."

Andrew said to. So Kevin did.

Kevin always does what Andrew says. That's how the three of them happened. Six months ago Andrew told Kevin that Neil wanted to kiss him, Kevin kissed him. Andrew watched them make out then announced that he wanted to kiss Kevin, Kevin kissed him.

And now here they all are, spread across Andrew's bed. Neil is sitting cross-legged against the headboard, wearing only his boxers and a tank top. Kevin has been stripped down to his shorts. And Andrew is fully clothed, except for the jacket he shed upon coming into the house, with his head on Neil's thigh. Kevin is hovering over Andrew, not touching him anywhere below the waist. Never touching him below the waist. Never touching him anywhere Andrew doesn't want him to.

"What am I doing now?" Kevin finally asks. Andrew had pulled Kevin over top of him like this a couple minutes ago and Kevin's been sort of frozen since. Because he's not a virgin, but Andrew makes him feel like one. A pair of hazel eyes stares up at him, seemingly bored. The flush on Andrew's cheeks is the only thing that gives him away.

"Whatever you want."

"That's not how it works—"

"It is now. You've graduated, Day. Touch me," Andrew commands. Kevin's hands twitch against the mattress, but he doesn't move them. Not yet.

"Where?"

"Anywhere." Andrew says, the want in his voice making Kevin's breathing catch. It takes a moment for him to process the word. And when he does, he throws himself off the bed. Andrew just stares after him. "Where are you going?"

Kevin sputters and puts his hands in the air. "You can't just change the rules on me like this."

"What rules?" Neil asks.

"The—" Kevin can't believe the question. "Oh, goddamn it, Neil. You know exactly what I'm talking about! I can't go from nothing to something to everything. Not like this. You have to tell me, Andrew. I don't know what—"

"I just told you what." Andrew says, sitting up a bit to look at him. "Anywhere, anything."

Kevin shakes his head. "No."

"No?"

"I don't want to fuck this up."

"You can't fuck it up."

"But—"

"No buts," Andrew interrupts. Kevin's gaze flicks from Andrew's to Neil's, back and forth. Andrew sighs. "Get the fuck over here, Kevin."

Kevin always does what Andrew says.

He moves to settle back over Andrew, propped up on his hands and knees. Andrew reaches for him and grabs the back of Kevin's neck, pulling him down into a kiss. Kevin gasps against his mouth and hears Neil make an appreciative sound, a little hum of a noise, above them. Suddenly there's a hand pushing into Kevin's hair and he knows it's Neil's. Kevin opens his eyes and looks up to meet Neil's eyes. The idiot smiles down at them and Andrew's eyes are closed, his mouth is hot, and... Kevin groans when Andrew fucks his tongue into his mouth.

Kevin moves to slip one hand under Andrew's head and lowers himself onto him, making Andrew exhale against his mouth. They're both half hard, Kevin ruts his hips against Andrew. An experiment that gets a grunt and a nip to his bottom lip.

"Good?" Kevin asks after pulling away a bit.

"Yes. Keep going."

"I want to take your shirt off." Kevin admits. Andrew's expression barely changes, but it does.

"Then do it." Andrew challenges, letting go of Kevin's neck. It takes both of them but Kevin gets the shirt off and drops it beside them. After thinking about it for half a second, he lightly skims a hand up Andrew's side making him shiver. He thinks it's a good sign, but then Neil's leaning in close to his head.

"Firmer, Kev." He whispers.

A hint. A clue from someone who's got years of experience on him. Kevin grabs it and a handful of Andrew's chest, taking Andrew by surprise.

"Really? Groping me, Day?"

"You said anything, didn't you?" Kevin squeezes Andrew's chest and thumbs at his nipple until it's peaked. Then he dips his head back down to press kisses to Andrew's neck. He knows Andrew likes that. It's safe, familiar, good for both of them. Andrew turns his head to the side, likely so he can look at Neil, but Kevin nips his pulse point and Andrew hisses a breath before grabbing him by the nape again and pulling him up like a mother cat does a kitten.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Andrew blinks at him like he's slow. "No. I want you to get on with it."

"You said anything I wanted." Kevin reminds him. "Or are you taking it back?"

"I'm not taking it back."

"Then let me take my time. Want to make you feel good." Kevin returns to Andrew's neck and Andrew's nails scrape against his back. Kevin assumes in appreciation. He nibbles at Andrew's throat until the goalie's breathing is labored, then finally comes up for air. "Can I bite you?"

There's a little spark in Andrew's eyes. Kevin wants to turn it into flame. After a moment, Andrew says 'yes, anything, do you understand the meaning of the word?' and Kevin shuts him up with teeth in the side of Andrew's neck. He sucks a mark there, one that'll bloom purple pedals, then does it again. Again.

He hears a sharp inhale to the side and glances over to see Neil palm himself through his underwear. Andrew tilts his head back to look at Neil and rolls his eyes.

"How am I not surprised your neck fetish extends to just watching."

At this point in their relationship, or whatever the fuck this is, Kevin thinks Neil has an Andrew fetish. He doesn't say so.

"Keep going." Neil tells him, almost as affected as Andrew. Kevin obliges, kissing and sucking his way down until he's nearing the waistband of Andrew's jeans. He stops there and raises his head to find Andrew glaring at him.

"Neil," Andrew says. "I think we need to get him an English tutor."

That makes Neil laugh and Kevin rolls his eyes, pinches the inside of Neil's thigh. "You can't fault me for wanting to be sure."

"I can and I will. Keep going or get out."

"Alright then. Instead of asking I'll just tell you. I'm going to take your pants off and then I'm going to blow your mind." Kevin decides, suddenly confident despite only giving a few blowjobs in his life. His decree has Andrew's brows raising.

"That so?"

"Yes." Kevin says firmly, making Neil's lips quirk. He eyes Neil for a moment. "Questions, comments, concerns?"

"None. Go." Neil tells him. So Kevin does. He scoots back and makes quick work of Andrew's remaining clothes, save his armbands. He's never seen what lies beneath them and he doesn't want to, because he has a theory and he doesn't want to test it.

Once Andrew's laid almost bare beneath him, Kevin stares. For a lot longer than he'll ever admit. Finally he dips his head and is thrown off course when he notices a freckle he'd never seen before. He detours past Andrew's cock and presses his lips to his hipbone instead. It's a barely-there thing, just a peck. But it makes Neil inhale sharply.

Kevin looks up at him. "What?"

Andrew's eyes flick up to Neil's, then he rolls them. "He's sentimental."

Kevin isn't sure what that means and it must be obvious from the look on his face. Andrew just shakes his head. "This is not a Q&A, get back to what you were doing."

#neil's also there sorry anon... i can't help it. i'm gay. and kevin needs a little guidance okay #also sorry for cutting it before the Good part but i think this is fine : )#LOLLLLLLLLLLLL this is an old ask anon i hope you somehow see this anyway<333 #(ask dated march 3)#kandreil #kandrew #answered #ask games #my writing #long post

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herefortheships · 1 day ago

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All the Small Things...

One of the biggest benefits of Beetlejuice 3 starting with a time skip, if they decide to do it, is that they don't need to spend much time building a dynamic between Lydia and Betelgeuse, if they intent to give them their romantic endgame.

We already saw how they get along in BJBJ and how he continues haunting her at the end, so the base is set. If they do a little time skip, the movie can start with the two of them already having a more established kind of relationship from which the story can take off. They can build their endgame romantic relationship in a believable way, without even needing to have Keaton onscreen more than the amount of time he feels like Betelgeuse should be onscreen (we all know how he believes Betelgeuse can't be in the movie too much <-Totally disagree with him, though! At least for a BJ3 I really feel like he should be onscreen a lot more than 17 minutes).

Lydia and Betelgeuse could have developed a friendship offscreen (or a reluctant friendship, on Lydia's part). OR, better yet, they may totally be acting like an old married couple. They can be shown bickering about little things that only matter when two people care about each other a lot. (I just thought of that clip with a couple arguing because she was shoveling the snow and he didn't want her to do it because that's his job as the husband [I think he even said she was too cute to be doing that 😂]. I wish I could find the clip to put it here. lol)

Little head canon time 💜: Imagine if Betelgeuse acts like her husband whenever he pops up to haunt see her. He makes her coffee every morning; some days he even sets the table for her breakfast, and very night he arranges her slippers by the bed. Lydia acts annoyed, especially at first, "stop trying to see me!" "Just leave me alone, already!" But she secretly loves all the little things he does for her and has gotten used to it. And he does it all because he wants to; he did say he was going to make her happy. The wedding might have not gone through, but, does that matter to him? Nope! He can finally make contact; it's no longer such a long distance relationship anymore. He's gonna make the most of those little moments he can have with her.

And maybe it even takes a lot out of him; he has to focus really hard to appear around her without being summoned, but he doesn't care. He just wants to be there. Maybe he leaves her roses on her bed sometimes, and gets her bath ready for when she comes home from work. It's like someone's taking care of her at all times, but at the same time... He's not truly there. He can only pop in every now and then; he can't be there permanently unless she sets him free. So, when there's a morning Beej can't pop in and make her coffee, Lydia misses him and wonders why he didn't show up today. She has a phantom husband, always there, but also, not truly... Only in his absence does she realize what he's become to her. And that's how she's slowly fallen for him, because of All the Small Things.

#There Burton hire me 😌#Beetlebabes #Beetlejuice x Lydia #No but I really like this headcanon AH!#I think it's sweet ok #How he's such a good husband but it would have never crossed her mind that married life with him could be like this lol #Beetlejuice 3 #Beetlejuice 3 headcanons #Beetlejuice 3 hopes #manifesting

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girlz4jaem · 1 day ago

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OUR PATHS | 11. dubs in the chat (wc: 1k) cw: mentions of cheating

JAEMIN arrived at your room within five minutes of your request, carrying a handful of your favorite snacks and the little comfort items he’d used with you the last time a storm had kept you up. as he took off his slippers, settled in, and began prepping a quick late-night meal using the dinky hotel kettle, you couldn’t help but feel your heart melt the tiniest bit. not only had he taken you up on your offer to come by, but he’d also remembered exactly what you needed on nights like this.

you both ate the instant ramen he brought over, the two of you sitting on the edge of your bed. the silence between you felt heavy, like there were words piling up but no clear path forward. yet, the ramen was almost too good for midnight, and in its own way, it helped ease the tension. it was hard to admit, even to yourself, but this was exactly what you needed. his quiet, steady presence and his little gestures of thoughtfulness, even after all this time, still made a difference.

after a few moments, you noticed jaemin watching you as you finished your last bites, a pensive look in his eyes. suddenly, he spoke, his voice almost catching, as if the words were slipping out against his own will. “i’m sorry. and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

your eyes widened slightly, not expecting the conversation to start like this—or even tonight at all. you tried to brush it off, hoping to avoid the inevitable heartache that you knew this talk would bring. “is this what you’ve been meaning to say the past few days? you already apologized, no?”

jaemin shook his head softly, his gaze still fixed on you. “y/n, you know that’s different... why do you keep trying to push me away?”

you took a deep breath, focusing on the ground, summoning the strength to finally open this door back up. “you really broke my heart, do you know that?”

his voice was quiet but determined. “let me be the one to put it back together, y/n, please. i really am sorry for everything. i’m sorry i didn’t get to show you how much you meant to me when i had the chance.”

a beat of silence passed, and you took a shaky breath. “do you even want to tell me why you left? because you never did. you left without saying goodbye, and that fucking sucked. i wish you would’ve at least broken up with me in person.”

jaemin’s shoulders tensed as he processed your words, his face contorted with regret. “i know. and, god, i am incredibly sorry. i know this is all still confusing and frustrating for you, but you have to know i never stopped loving you. i still love you. i just... i needed to figure things out about myself.” he paused, as if bracing himself, then continued. “a couple of days before i sent that text, i ran into my ex on a work trip.” he laughed bitterly. “it seems like I’m always running into my exes…”

he continued on,”i don’t know if you remember, because i barely mentioned her when we were together, but we were together for a long time, and she cheated on me. our relationship was messy and toxic, and she left me with a lot of trust issues and self-doubt.”

jaemin’s voice faltered briefly, but he continued. “when i saw her, i found out she’d actually signed up for the work event on purpose, just to give me ‘closure.’ but instead of helping, it brought back everything. it was like i was reliving all of it—how we ended, how messed up that relationship was. it made me realize that i hadn’t really dealt with any of it, and that i’d brought all that baggage into what we had. i needed to work through it, but i thought that would hurt you more than just ending it.”

he looked up at you, his eyes pleading. “how could i love you properly if i hated myself so much?”

your voice was barely a whisper. “but why didn’t you just tell me all of that, jaemin? i didn’t want perfect. i wanted you.”

“i know,” he replied, the weight of his guilt clear in his expression. “i shouldn’t have just left without even attempting to have a conversation. but after what she put me through, i didn’t want to put you through the same thing. i didn’t want you to feel like you had to deal with my issues for me. and, knowing you… you would’ve done just that. you would’ve sacrificed your needs and happiness for me, and i’d been in that exact position before. it always ends badly.”

the room fell silent as his words hung in the air. finally, jaemin continued, his voice softer. “i regretted it as soon as i sent that message, though. i tried to reach out, to fix things, but you blocked me on everything. i even tried to see you in person, but… ryujin told me to stay away.”

you let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “oh god… ryujin… of course.”

he hesitated on his next words, but ultimately pushed through it. “i know it’s not enough to make up for what i did. i know it’s not going to change how much i hurt you. but i need you to know that i really am here, and i’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.”

your eyes locked onto his, the vulnerability in them matching your own. “you hurt me, jaemin. and i don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to get past that.”

he nodded, his gaze dropping. “i get it. and if you want me to back off, i will. but if there’s even a small part of you that wants to give this another try, then… let me prove that i’ve changed.”

after a long moment, you finally whispered, “i’ll forgive you, jaemin.” you lowered your voice even more, “i-i still love you too.” jaemin perked up at that note. “but i need you to really show me that you mean it. prove to me that you love me the way you say you do.”

his eyes softened with a glimmer of hope. “i will. whatever it takes.”

the storm outside continued, but somehow, you felt a little more grounded.

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NOTES | omfg sorry friends i've been so busy but mayhaps this hella long and long awaited chapter is worth it!!!! TAGLIST (open!) | @polarisjisung @tommina @luvv4bby @222low @luluvhs @spideykeyring @dudekiss3r @sunghoonsgfreal @jeonghansshitester @injunnie-lemon @eternallyhyucks @njmluvr @n0hyuck @junviadinho @hyunnies-world @hahaechans @p4tyaraujo @baeseungcheolie @untilthesunrises @lotties-readings @mango-bear @angelicaleex @jungaji @luvvhaechan @lionzyon @y4wnjunz @luvandletter @applejaem @pikibell @keeryverse @botchedbrat @mystverse @t-102 @skzfairies @andyprkmyluv @gomdoleemyson

bold = couldn't tag

#jaemin x reader #jaemin texts #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin smau #jaemin angst #na jaemin x reader #jaemin imagine #jaemin scenarios #na jaemin #jaemin #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream texts #nct dream x reader #nct dream smau #isa writes ✍️#loml <3 #fic: our paths 🐇

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