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purinfelix · 8 days ago

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walking 'cross the campus - n. riki ⋆˚࿔

summary: one too many drinks lands you in the arms of a handsome stranger, who you suddenly end up confessing to - but given that you've never met before, it shouldn't be too big a deal, right? ─────── college au niki x reader || warnings: alcohol, reader being a sappy and kinda cringey drunk, fluffy awkwardness, tension || w/c: 2.5k

a/n: i fear the Niki brainrot is taking over me lately (blame my younger sister whos a niki bias and who has just been influencing me LOLLL) also not that anyone gafs but i actually had this fic idea for a formula one driver originally but never finished it so i recycled it .... hope u guys enjoy !!!!

Maybe this party hadn't been a good idea.

It had certainly seemed like it a couple of days ago when you'd decided to go, despite the assignments and readings piling up on your never-ending to-do list. Even a couple of hours ago, when you were there and enjoying yourself quite a bit, it hadn't seemed too bad an idea. But now, as you heard back to your dorm, barely able to keep your head up or your eyes open after enjoying yourself a little too much, you were starting to regret your decision

And it didn't help that you were being carried bridal-style by the most attractive guy you'd seen all year.

"What did you say your name was again?" you slurred, trying your best to stay awake in his arms.

"Niki," he says, his voice deeper than you were expecting, "though I doubt you'll remember that tomorrow morning." You watch as he chuckles to himself softly, eyes fixed on the stairs he's carrying you up.

"Huh- why?"

"Do you even remember how many drinks you had?"

"I stopped counting after," you unloop your hands from around his neck to count on your fingers, "eight?"

He lets out a small sigh, followed by a shake of his head, as if he's tired of you. But as he does, there's a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth, almost as if he's trying not to laugh. "And that's if you can even call the shit in those solo cups 'drinks'. You're braver than I am, trusting frat boys with what you put in your mouth."

You let out a quiet hiccup before speaking in a high, giggly tone, "That sounds dirty." As you lay your head back on his broad chest, you can feel him laugh under his breath.

"Is this your floor?"

You nod, despite having absolutely no idea where you are - surely you can trust your past self to have been stupid enough to tell a total stranger where your dorm is, especially one as good-looking as this.

"I won't forget you," you hum happily, fighting the weight of your eyelids to look up at him, though he just looks ahead, brows furrowed as he tries to find your room.

"And why is that?"

"Well, you're so nice for doing this," you pause, a playful smile spreading across your face, "plus, you're not bad to look at, I don't think I could forget a face like this if I tried."

Without thinking, one of your hands comes up to cup his jaw, pulling him to look at you. Without your hands around his neck, his grip on you slips- and it doesn't help that your words, actions, and the sudden eye contact have caught him completely off guard.

"Wh-careful!" He scolds you with a soft hiss as he quickly repositions his hands to keep you upright.

"Oops!" you hic, unable to comprehend just how much of a hassle you're being right now, but still aware enough to catch the pink flush across his cheeks as he lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of the door with your name on it.

"Key?" he asks, somewhat impatiently, and you clumsily fumble around in your pocket for them before slamming them into his open palm. You hear the familiar sound of your dorm door opening and soon, the cool feeling of your plush bedsheets.

"There you go," he hums softly as he lays you down, though your grip on his neck doesn't loosen.

"Hey, mister," you huff through pouted lips.

"Yes, missus?" He replies in a tone that's equal parts amused and endeared, despite how exhausted he must be with you.

"I think..." you pause to reposition yourself, widening your eyes and pulling him close as if to force him to see the earnest expression on your face, "I think I might love you."

You don't have time to hear his response because you're passed out stone-cold the next second, and the only thing you hear is quiet shuffling followed by the soft click of your dorm door shutting.

The next morning hits you like a truck. Hard.

Your head throbs as you peel it off your pillow, and your mouth feels like sandpaper as you let out a croaky groan. You squeeze your eyes shut, lying there for a few moments and slowly, memories from last night trickle in.

Loud music, sticky floors, flashing lights, one drink, two, six - after that, nothing, a complete blank. Though if you try hard enough to can conjure up the faint memory of someone's hands on the small of your back, and yours around their neck.

You try not to overthink it, sitting up slowly and glancing around your room for any signs of damage. Everything looks normal enough, no carelessly thrown clothes or items belonging to anyone other than you.

With a painful stretch, you reach for your phone, which is neatly waiting for you on your bedside table. All it takes is one look at the time to force you out of bed in a rush - class starts in 20 minutes, great.

You do your best to slip into class unnoticed, making a beeline for your usual spot at the back with your hoodie over your head, sunglasses shoved onto your face to protect you from the harsh overhead lights. You think you've succeeded and start to rummage through your bag for your laptop when you notice someone drop into the seat next to you.

At first, you don't think anything of it, but curiosity forces you to attempt to glance at him over the top of your glasses. He's handsome, there's no doubt about it - he has a sort of boyish charm that you can sense from the way he's lounging in the seat, dark hair falling over his sharp features. It almost irritates you how put-together he looks for how early in the morning it is.

Then you realise he's looking right at you, with an amused smirk spread across his face that makes your heart unexpectedly flutter and your stomach twist.

"Rough night?" he asks, his voice deeper than you expected as he gestures to your sunglasses. His eyes don't leave yours, and there's a mischievous glint in them as he speaks.

You blink. "Uhm... yeah?"

He lets out a low laugh, and you can't help but feel like there's something more going on here that you're not quite getting. "You don't remember much, do you?" he drawls through a smile as he leans back, eyes raking over you.

"Should I?"

"Figured," he laughs, low and teasing, instead of answering your question.

You narrow your eyes at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you struggle to place him - he looks familiar, somewhat, but you're sure you'd remember meeting someone like him before. He certainly doesn't have a face you'd see every day around campus, so you're pretty sure you've never spoken to him before.

"I'm Niki," he offers casually, but as he does, a pang of deja vu hits you, and you don't get long to wonder why before he speaks again. "We kind of met last night."

You feel your stomach drop. Kind of?

"You were at the party?" you blurt out in surprise.

"Yeah, you were a mess," he says, the corners of his lip quirking into an entertained smile.

You're unable to hold back from letting out a mortified groan, hiding your face in your hands - partially to hide your blush but mostly because you can't stand to meet his eye right now. "Please tell me I didn't throw up on anyone or anything," you whine out.

"No puke, don't worry," he assures, "but you did need a little help getting home.

You peek at him through a gap in your fingers. "Who by?" you ask, speaking slowly as if you don't really want to know the answer.

He gestures to himself, a smug grin growing on his face. "Yours truly."

"You drove me?"

"Carried," he corrects.

"Carried?!"

"Bridal style, actually, the entire way."

Your eyes almost pop out of your head from how wide you open them, and all he does is tilt his head to get a better look at your reaction to what he's just said - almost as if he's savouring it. "Oh my god," you sigh, "I am so sorry."

"Don't be," he shrugs calmly, bringing up a hand to run through his hair, "you were pretty entertaining compared to that boring party."

"What exactly did I do?" You feel your chest tighten as you ask, wincing at the endless possibilities of ways you might've embarrassed yourself.

"You don't want to know," he scoffs, turning away from you.

"No, I really do," you insist, despite your better judgement telling you that you were probably better off blissfully ignorant.

He leans back in, dropping his voice to a low tone that feels like it's a secret just for the two of you. "Let's just say you were very ... affectionate."

You blink, unsure of how to respond. "Affectionate?" you echo.

"Yep," he says, and it irritates you just how unaffected he seems by all of this. "You told me you loved me, and I have to say it was pretty convincing."

He turns to you, watching with a playful glint in his eye as you struggle to comprehend his words. If he feels bad for teasing you, he certainly doesn't show it, instead continuing with a taunting tone. "Practically begged me not to leave."

You feel your face burn hot with frustration as you furrow your brows. "You're lying," you insist.

"Maybe," he shrugs, "guess you'll just have to trust me."

"Okay, just tell me I didn't, like, cling to you or anything."

He raises an eyebrow, attempting to fight a smile as he speaks. "Define cling."

You let out a guttural groan of embarrassment, pulling your hood down to hide your face again. "I am never drinking again," you sigh dramatically, your voice partially muffled by it.

"Aww, c'mon, I kinda liked that side of you," you hear him taunt, "it was cute."

"I hate you," you huff curtly, flicking back your hoodie to meet his eye, though the pink blush spreading across your cheeks betrays your words.

"That's not what you were saying last night," he chuckles to himself, turning back to his laptop and focusing his attention back to the lecture which, at this point, is almost over. You feel your frustration grow at the sight of him pretending he actually cares about it, as if he hasn't just dropped an earth-shatteringly embarrassing bomb on you.

You try to do the same, to make an effort to show just how much his words aren't affecting you, how totally normal you are about what he's just revealed - or more the thought of what he's still hiding. But you can't. Even as you try to focus on what your professor is saying, you can't seem to comprehend a single word. All you can think about is the boy sitting next to you, about the faint memories you have and how every single one aligns horrifyingly with what he's told you.

You're so lost in these memories in fact that you don't notice him leaning close to you again, not until his low voice hums in your ear.

"You really don't remember anything?"

You jump slightly, turning just enough to catch his eye, which is a lot closer than you're expecting - close enough that you can see the slight hint of worry in his expression. "Not a thing," you sigh curtly.

"That's a shame," he says, clicking his tongue as he shifts back in his seat, flicking his hair in the opposite direction as if to avoid your eye "I was starting to think you meant it." By how exaggeratedly he sighs, you can tell he's meaning to poke fun at you, but the slight waver in his voice betrays him, and instead, you sense just a tinge of disappointment in his words.

"So, what now?" you mumble, shifting awkwardly in your seat, "Do I owe you a thank-you or something?"

He tilts his head back to you, round eyes lighting up despite the rest of his face clearly trying to convey nonchalance. "I wouldn't say no to a coffee."

You narrow your eyes at him, "You're not trying to ask me out, are you?"

He stiffens slightly at your words, but is quick to cover it up before speaking again. "Would you say yes?"

You open your mouth, then close it, unsure of what to say in response. He's caught you off guard for what feels like the millionth time this morning - not by what he's asked, but rather by how not casual he sounds for once. In the time you take to process his question, you get a chance to study him, searching for a sign. One that tells you that he's just messing with you, that this is all an elaborate prank and that the previous night didn't actually happen the way he says it did.

But instead, you get something completely different, something unexpected. You watch as his eyes suddenly flicker away from yours, and he turns his attention to fiddling with the several rings on his fingers, as if he's trying to act like he hasn't just asked whether you'd consider a date with him.

That's when it clicks - he's nervous.

The guy who witnessed you make a total embarrassment of yourself last night, whom you drunkenly confessed to and whom has been doing nothing but teasing you and basking in your flustered responses for the past hour, is nervous.

You're unable to stop your lips from twitching into a small smile at the feeling of the tension suddenly flipping. "Maybe," you answer, trying to mirror his calm tone.

He glances at you again, something flickering across his face that slightly resembles hope, maybe relief, as he bites back a wide smile. "I'll take that."

The lecture finally draws to an end, and you watch as he stands up, grabbing his bag swiftly before turning to you. He's failing at hiding his smirk, but now it lacks the same smug self-assurance you found irritating just a couple of minutes ago, and you swear you see him hesitate for just a second before speaking.

"Think about it," his voice is lower now, almost careful, "and then if that maybe becomes a yes, you know where to find me. Or, I guess, I know where to find you technically."

"That sounds stalker-ish," you scoff.

"Hey, you're the one who told me you loved me."

"Fair," you shrug, resigned. With another low chuckle, he's slipping out of the classroom - but not before sending you one last look, as if his eyes refuse to let yours go. He sends you a lazy grin, one that seems like an affirmation of everything that happened the previous night.

And now you're sitting there, heart beating a little faster than before, head still a little foggy with blurry memories - but not enough to fully miss everything that just happened.

'Think about it.'

You've never really noticed Niki before, not like this, but now with the memory of his low voice in your ear, his teasing gaze on yours and his inability to let you live anything down ever - you're definitely thinking about it.

taglist for ni-ki fics (love u!! <3) : @miniw0nz @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @charsworld96

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imaginespazzi · 5 months ago

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Part 12: Fleeting Moments Of Forever

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15

I let my guard down and you pulled the rug (I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved)

(In which a depressed by recent events author spreads her depression)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff if you squint really hard, Hurt with a little bit of comfort if you squint really hard again (basically just squint you guys!)

Words: 12.3K

TW: Swearing (as per usual), a man (ew), brief reference to parental abandonment

A/N: Good morning/night my lovelies <3 Not quite sure what to say when it's one in the morning and I'm slightly delirious but I'm only a couple of hours late with this. There's a lot going on in this chapter and I'm sure I will once again be spammed with asks calling me evil, but remember lovelies, it's for the plot! I will be editing this chapter at some point tomorrow because I just really don't have the energy to edit but I wanted to get this out for you guys by tonight. So if you're reading tonight and see mistakes, please feel free to point them out and I'll fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves!

May 2033

~ A few minutes ago ~

Azzi feels like shit as she runs up the stairs behind her daughter. She feels like a shit mother, she feels like a shit sister-in-law-sort-of-kinda-thing and most of all she feels like a shit ex-girlfriend-turned-complicated-current-situationship-or-whatever. And saying those complicated relationship titles in her head only makes her feel worse. Because really it should’ve been so simple; it had been so simple. And Azzi had chosen to make everything complicated and difficult instead.

Drew’s words had been like a shot going down wrong, an accusation she knew she deserved but one that stung all the same. Paige’s silence -the fact that she hadn’t been able to give Azzi the assurance that she’d forgiven her- had been like the terrible chaser after that only made her feel more nauseous. And the after effects of it had been Azzi exploding all her feelings on her baby girl who’d just wanted some damn soda.

Letting the guilt fester, Azzi pushes open the door to Paige’s bedroom to find Stephie cuddled up against lavender pillows, one of Paige’s few hoodies that hadn’t made it to the Fudd household draped around her tiny little body. Azzi’s heart constricts at the sound of her daughter’s hiccoughs, tightening even more when she notices the wet patch Stephie’s tears have created against the pillow.

“Stephie-bean,” she says softly as she climbs onto the bed, reaching out to brush a hand across the little girl’s curled up frame.

“Go away Mama. I’m mad at you,” Stephie’s petulant reply is immediate as she shrugs off Azzi’s hand, furling away further into herself.

“I know sweetheart-”

“You yelled at me,” Stephie continues, trying to keep her voice as firm as a five-year old’s can be but it’s too many emotions for such a little soul and Azzi can hear the telltale sign of a fresh new set of tears just waiting to fall.

She tries again, gently pulling Stephie’s back against her chest and this time, there’s little resistance as the little girl goes easily into her mother’s arms. Azzi tightens her arms around Stephie’s waist, pressing a litany of featherlight kisses into her hair in between apologies, “I’m sorry. Mama’s so sorry sweetheart. I shouldn’t’ve yelled like that baby-”

“No you shouldn’t’ve,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, as she turns her body around to face her mother’s and Azzi’s hands instinctively move to wipe away the tears tracks on her face, “you were so loud. I don’t like when you yell.”

“I know bean,” Azzi says, the tight grip of remorse squeezing her heart harder at the melancholy in her daughter’s words, “but Stephie baby you know soda’s bad for you-”

“But it’s Friday Mama and I only wanted a little,” the little girl whines immediately, “I swear Mama I would’ve only had a little bit and then I would brushed my teeth so hard and they’d be sparkling white like this,” she pulls her cheeks wide open so she can bare her pearly white teeth at her mother, “see!”

And despite that heavy pit in her stomach, Azzi can’t help the slight peal of laughter that rumbles throughout her and elicits a matching grin from her daughter. She ruffles the little girl’s hair before pulling her flush against herself, Stephie’s head burrowing itself into the crook of her neck and for the first time tonight, Azzi finally feels like she can breathe again. Because at the end of the day, what matters most is the child wrapped securely in her arms and as long as she has Stephie, Azzi thinks, no matter what, she’ll find a way to survive. For Stephie.

Something soft and fluffy brushes against her skin and Azzi reluctantly unfocuses from Stephie to find that the arm of the hoodie that had previously been draped over her daughter’s body, is now wrapped around both of them. Paige’s hoodie. She stares at the material, eyes blinking back tears as that wretched feeling of something’s missing whirls around her. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling; this secret craving that Azzi had often found herself hiding away from when she and Stephie were alone. A craving to have Paige there too, a craving for the two of them to be cradled in the blonde’s strong arms, a craving for this almost perfect picture to be complete. And now that she’s had a taste of what it’s like to have that - these past few weeks having felt like a tester of what it could be like to live in a dream that Azzi had thought she was no longer allowed to dream- Azzi wants nothing more than for it to be permanent.

Another wave of guilt crashes against her as her mind flickers back to the bitter note she’d ended the conversation down stairs on. The stinging emphasis she’d placed on my daughter echoes loudly in her ears and even though Azzi knows that technically she hadn’t said anything untrue, the image of Paige’s face falling -the sparkle in her eyes dimming at the reality of the younger woman’s words- makes Azzi’s heart stutter with regret. There’s a part of her that thinks it’s all happening too fast, a part of her that’s in a constant duel with the rest of herself that’s ready to call Stephie theirs. And she knows it’s only been a couple of weeks -knows that it’s a little insane to have already carved out a place for forever on a shelf that’s plagued with uncertainties- but the truth is that there’s always been an unfilled space in Azzi and Stephie’s world that’s just been waiting for Paige to step in and claim it. It’s always been hers; they’ve always been hers.

“Mama,” Stephie’s quiet voice mumbles against her chest and Azzi distractedly hums in return, “why does Miss Buecks have to learn to say no to me?”

“Because she likes to say yes a little too much and she definitely likes to say yes to you but if she keeps saying yes all the time, she’s gonna spoil you. Well more than you already are that is,” Azzi teases goodnaturedly, tugging at Stephie’s nose.

The little girl pouts loudly before indignantly refuting her mother’s statement, “I am not spoiled. I’m a good girl. A very good girl. A very, very, very, very, very-”

‘Okay, okay, okay,” Azzi says, hushing the little girl with a slight laugh before she can continue to repeat herself, “you’re my very good girl who’s just a little bit spoiled.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Stephie admits, scrunching her nose, “but how come you never make Aunty Leen or Aunty J or Aunty Tessie or any of your other teammates say no to me?”

“Because-well,” Azzi struggles to find the words, “Miss Buecks is- she’s just- it’s different and she’s around a lot more,” she’s around all the time, “and so she’s gotta learn to say no to you sometimes.”

“Like Pops had to learn to say no to me if he wanted to keep helping Nana babysit?” Stephie asks earnestly and Azzi laughs at the reminder of how she and Katie had basically had to force Tim into learning how to say no to his persuasive granddaughter.

“Yeah something like that,” she says with an amused grin.

“So Miss Buecks is like-” Stephie pauses, hesitating slightly before a soft smile -one that bears an uncanny resemblance to the one her mother sometimes has when thinking of the same woman- appears on her face, “she’s like family?”

Azzi’s breath hitches in her throat; the delicate mix of sincerity and innocence in her daughter’s voice makes her pause. Because Stephie says it like it’s the most simple yet most important truth in the word, that’s it’s common knowledge she’s known all her life. Paige is family.

“Yeah,” the brunette breathes out finally, the edges of her lips slightly upturning into a grin that matches her daughter’s, “I guess she is.”

Stephie nods quietly as she mulls over her mother’s answer and Azzi can practically see the cogs turning in her brain before her daughter’s dark brown thoughtful eyes look back up at her, “so does that mean we can keep Miss Buecks forever?”

“I-’

“I mean cause you said she’s family right?” Stephie babbles on, ignoring the way Azzi’s eyes have widened considerably, “and family- family is forever right Mama? That’s what they say? So- so if Miss Buecks is family that means she has to stay forever? We get to keep her forever?”

Azzi blinks rapidly at the onslaught of words falling from her daughter’s lips. Stephie makes it sound so simple; she makes a forever with the three of them sound like a given, like something that’s meant to be. And it makes her think of that night eight years ago, when Paige had made it sound just as simple.

Be mine forever.

It was Azzi who had made it complicated; obsolete even.

But, she thinks, she won’t this time. As she looks back down at her daughter, the hopeful smile on Stephie’s face as she awaits Azzi’s answer, feels a little bit like fate is giving her another chance; a clear sky to re-write her own destiny in the stars. This time, with Paige.

“Do you- do you want that,” Azzi asks slowly, “do you want to keep Miss Buecks forever?”

If possible Stephie’s smile grows even larger as she gives her mother what can only be described as a ‘duh’ look, “of course Mama. I want Miss Buecks forever and ever and ever. You want that too don’t you Mama?”

Azzi pauses for a second, letting herself be immersed in the idea.

“Yeah,” she says softly, her eyes suddenly misty. And she knows that there’s still so much left unresolved, that tonight had revealed a chiasm of problems they’d have to still build a bridge over to get back to each other. But for a chance at a forever Azzi had thought she’d long forsaken, Azzi’s willing to try, “yeah I think I’d like to keep Miss Buecks forever too.”

The squeal Stephie lets out practically bounces off the walls in tandem with the little girl springing off the bed and Azzi laughs as her daughter wraps her small hands around her mother’s much larger ones, trying to tug her along.

“Stephie wait sweetheart, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

Stephie sighs impatiently, “we’re going to Miss Buecks, Mama. We can’t just make this decision without her,” she continues matter-of-factly, “we have to tell her.”

“Tell her what Stephie?” Azzi laughs as she finally lets her daughter pull her off the bed and start dragging her out the door.

“We have to tell her that she’s family and we have to tell her that we want to keep her forever.”

***

They’re about halfway down the stairs when Azzi begins to hear the whispered hissing of an argument between Paige and Drew going on in the kitchen and she feels dread wrap itself around her whole body. It doesn’t take a genius to gauge that it’s likely about her -more specifically about her and Paige’s relationship- and suddenly it feels like something dark has been cast all over her, stomping out the brightness that she’d felt just mere moments ago.

Azzi hesitates on the last few steps, causing Stephie to impatiently look up at her as she contemplates whether or not to interrupt whatever altercation is going on in the kitchen. For as long as she’d known them, Paige and Drew had never seriously fought but then again, when Azzi had known them, Drew had been a child; a kid who would never have doubted his sister's decision, or Azzi’s for that matter. But the man that had walked into their lives tonight is one that had been witness -perhaps even a victim- to all the terrible decisions the two of them had made in the last eight years. It’s only natural, Azzi thinks, that he’d be wary of their relationship. He’d seen the burn marks that their relationship catching on fire had left on his sister’s skin and it was only natural that he’d blame the woman who’d held the matches.

“Mama,” Stephie presses as she tugs at Azzi’s hand, “come on,” she whines, “I wanna see Miss Buecks.”

“Steph-” Azzi tries to say, her instincts going haywire when she hears Paige’s voice more clearly now -stop it Drew- but then Stephie pulls hard and she’s practically tripping down the rest of the stairs, trying to keep balance as the little girl holding her hand continues to drag her towards the kitchen.

They’re still speaking too quietly for Azzi to pick up exactly what they’re saying but there’s a resigned urgency in Drew’s voice and a fearful sadness in Paige’s that makes bile rise at the back of her throat and suddenly Azzi’s very sure that whatever this conversation is, she really doesn’t want to hear it. But her feet keep moving, letting Stephie lead the way as the claws of it takes a second for everything to fall apart sink into her heart.

“-there’s a reason you only wanted to be here for this season,” Azzi hears Drew say as they finally reach the kitchen door and she forces Stephie to a halt. Every part of her is screaming to take her daughter and turn away, to not listen to wherever this conversation she clearly wasn’t meant to hear is going.

“I know,” Paige whispers and Azzi’s heart stutters as she takes in the blonde’s red-rimmed eyes as she leans against the table, “I know.”

Azzi opens her mouth, ready to alert the brother-sister duo of their presence but before she can say anything, Drew’s speaking again and as the words roll out of his mouth, Azzi feels her blood run cold.

“Stick to the plan Paige. Let the Liberty be the end goal. You’ll be in New York by the end of October.”

The plan. Liberty. New York. October.

The words run around in a frenzy through Azzi’s brain creating a mixture of confusion battling with the sense of an unwanted realization that makes her feel dizzy. It’s like someone pricking a needle against the bubble of forever she’d just let herself believe in and there’s a loud pop echoing in her head. The noise hurts. Azzi had known Paige’s contract with GSV was only for a year; she’d even considered -perhaps even expected- that when Paige had signed it, she probably wasn’t planning on staying forever.

But that was then.

Surely things would be different now.

“Miss Buecks,” Azzi’s dragged out of the cacophony of her mind by the sound of her daughter speaking. Stephie’s voice is wracked with fragility as she clings tightly onto her mother’s hand, her face morphed into a combination of betrayal and please tell me i’m wrong as she looks at Paige, whose face has gone ashen at the sight of the two of them standing by the doorway, “you’re moving to New York?”

“Stephie,” Paige whispers, eyes brimming with tears as she falls to her knees in front of the little girl, hand moving to grip her her shoulders, “sweetheart I-”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie says again, her usually boisterous tone replaced by a meek, desperate one, “are you going to New York? Are you- are you,” her voice breaks and the next words come out in a barely there whisper, “are you leaving us?”

Say no, Azzi thinks, please say no, say you aren’t leaving, promise you’d never leave. But as she watches Paige open and close her mouth, choking on air as she tries to give an answer, she knows it’s wishful thinking, knows that it’s a promise Paige isn’t going to make.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s voice is shaking, holding back her tears as tight as she’s holding onto the hope that Paige will give her the answer she wants- the answer she needs, “are you leaving us?”

“I-” Paige bites her lip, hands running up and down Stephie’s shoulder and arms, almost like she’s trying to memorize what it feels like to be able to touch her, almost like, she’s not sure when she'll get the chance to have her this close again again, “I don’t- I don’t know sweetheart I-”

It’s the wrong answer and Azzi closes her eyes as Paige cuts herself off with a small gasp of air when Stephie rips herself out of the blonde's grasp

“No,” the little girl says harshly, pushing herself behind her mothers legs.

“Stephie-bean,” Paige says helplessly, looking from the little girl to Azzi.

“No, no, no, no,” Stephie says; each no is louder than the last, “how you don’t know? You’re an ‘dult. ‘Dults are big. They know everything so how you don't know Miss Buecks?”

“It’s not that simple bean-” Paige tries to say, her hands outstretched towards the little girl, fingers clenching and unclenching like they don’t know how to be still unless they’re clasping onto her.

“It is,” Stephie yells, “are you leaving us or not? Yes or no Miss Buecks?”

“I-” the blonde splutters, still unsure of what to say.

“Stephie,” it’s Azzi who cuts Paige off this time, opening her eyes as she bends down in front of her daughter, pulling the little girl into a hug, “baby it’s okay. It’s going to be okay-”

“No it’s not,” Stephie screams as she wrangles herself out of her mother’s grip, the force of it causing Azzi to stumble backwards and something like if you’re going to hold me, hold me forever catches in her throat when Paige instinctively reaches out an arm to wrap around the her waist to keep her steady. The contact makes Azzi shiver and she has to fight the urge to let her shoulders relax, the urge to let herself melt into the warmth that Paige has always exuded. They stare at each other for a second, Azzi trying to drown herself in the ocean blue of the blonde’s eyes as Paige tries to find some semblance of stability to hold onto in the brunette’s earthy ones.

“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, that one syllable coated in layers of emotions that Azzi thinks she’d be willing to spend an eternity peeling through if it would bring her one step closer to keeping the woman in front of her from leaving, from going to fucking New York.

“Mama I wanna go home,” Stephie’s adamant voice pierces through the silence and Azzi tears her gaze away from Paige -but not before she can catch a brief glance of the older woman’s face contorting in pain- to look up at her daughter's cloudy face.

“Stephie-bean,” Paige speaks before Azzi can, heartbreak laced in her tone as she practically pleads with the little girl, “sweetheart please-”

“You promised you’d try to stay” Stephie bursts out, big fat tears cascading down her small face, “do you even rem-ber? At Nana and Pops’s house when I was scared you left you promised you’d try. But you’re not- you’re not even trying to stay Miss Buecks,” the little girl accuses, “you- you- you lied to me Miss Buecks.”

“I didn’t Stephie- I didn’t lie-” Paige tries to explain between her own tears and they’re still pressed so close together that Azzi can feel every shake of the older woman’s body against her own, “I didn’t lie sweetheart. I’m still- I’m still trying-”

“You’re not-”

“I am. I am Stephie. It’s just-” Paige’s eyes flicker towards Azzi who flinches at the unspoken implication, “it’s complicated.”

“Then un-comp-icate it,” Stephie stomps her feet petulantly before a series of heavy sobs wracked her tiny body and she heaves loudly, clutching at her chest.

Concern floods through Azzi’s veins as she shuffles towards her daughter, still on her knees and Paige follows her lead, the two of them inching closer, “Stephie-”

Something shifts as Stephie looks at the two of them through tear-stained eyelashes; the anger and fight slowly dissolving into the air. And then, if possible, her face crumples even more before she’s falling into Paige’s lap, one arm tightly wrapping around the blonde’s neck as her other hand reaches out to grab onto Azzi’s bicep, binding the three of them together in a mess of limbs on the cold kitchen floor.

“Please don’t go Miss Buecks,” Stephie wails as Paige clutches the little girl firmly against her chest, her hands brushing through her dark curls as she tries to comfort her, “please, please, please Miss Buecks I don’t want you to go. Don’t go to New York. Please don’t go. Please stay- stay with me and Mama forever. Please Miss Buecks.”

“Stephie-”

“Please don’t leave us Miss Buecks,” Stephie cries, her breathing unnaturally heavy as she shakes in Paige’s arms and Azzi reaches out a hand to soothe her back, trying and failing to keep her own tears at bay. Azzi’s chest tightens as Stephie continues to babble, begging Paige to stay as the blonde continues to hold her, droplets of water streaming down her face as she gently rocks the little girl back and forth. Because despite the way Paige has practically melded Stephie’s little body into her own, Azzi can see the way that the older woman still can’t seem to say the words that the little girl wants to hear, can’t seem to bring herself to guarantee forever. And it feels like the threads of the dream she’d just started weaving, are slipping out of her fingertips.

Azzi doesn’t know how long they sit there -Stephie still pleading in Paige’s arms and Azzi stroking her back- but eventually her daughter’s words begin to turn into nonsense, her breathing slowly evening out until there’s nothing but silence; the gravity of her emotions having lulled her to sleep. The silence is deafening as Azzi tries to figure out what exactly she should do next, take her daughter and run or succumb to that part of herself that wants to follow Stephie’s lead and beg Paige to never leave them. She still doesn’t quite understand what’s going on, what sort of plan Paige has about moving to New York and if she’s honest with herself, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to know; a part of her that wants to go back to ignorant bliss they’d been living in for the last few weeks. But as she stares at the dried tear tracks staining her daughter’s face -that familiar guilt of all we do is hurt the people around us reverberating between her and Paige- Azzi knows there’s no going back.

“We should talk,” Paige says finally, her voice small as she looks at Azzi, “please.”

Azzi swallows as she wipes at her tears, ignoring the way Paige’s eyes trace her fingers, like they wish it was her brushing them away instead. She ignores the part of heart that wants that too, wants Paige’s comfort, just wants Paige.

“Yeah, yeah I guess we should,” she says finally, “but um- I should- um,” she gestures towards Stephie’s sleeping body, “should uh- probably put her to bed first.”

“Right- yeah- yeah of course,” Paige nods awkwardly as Azzi reaches to pry Stephie off of her.

The little girl lets out a low sleepy whine, her hands tightening around Paige’s neck, “no Miss Buecks don’t let me go.”

“Stephie,” Azzi’s heart breaks at the fear etched on her daughter’s face, despite being fast asleep, at the idea of being taken away from her Miss Buecks.

“I’ve got you sweetheart,” Paige whispers softly against the little girl’s hair before looking back at Azzi, her eyes swimming with guilt, “I can- I can take her upstairs.”

A part of Azzi wants to say no, wants to start taking out stitches in the places where Stephie and Paige have already sewn themselves together. There’s a part of her that regrets having ever given them the needle in the first place, a part of her that wishes she’d never let her daughter get so attached, when there were so many uncertainties about the strength of the thread between them.

But instead she says, “fine,” as she follows Paige up the stairs, heart constricting at the softness with which the other woman holds her little girl.

“Put her in one of the guest rooms,” Azzi calls out quietly when Paigs starts to turn into her own room.

The blonde stops in her tracks, turning around to face Azzi and she has to look away when she sees the stricken expression on Paige’s face. They were meant to be having a sleepover. The night was supposed to end with the three of them curled in Paige’s bed, supposedly watching some random movie but in actuality, Stephie would have dosed off in the middle of it and Paige and Azzi, with their hands entwined over the little girl’s body, would have spent the rest of it talking about everything and nothing. That’s how it was meant to go; it was meant to have been just another night like any of the other ones they’d spent together the last couple of weeks. But now that normalcy seems like an out of reach fairytale.

“Az-” Paige tries to argue but there isn’t much fight in it and just the slight defeated shake of Azzi’s head is enough to have the older woman biting her lip and doing as she’s asked.

Azzi hangs back by the doorway as Paige gently places Stephie down on the bed, pulling up the moss green covers over the little girl’s body. It feels wrong, Azzi thinks, as her mind drifts back to a few moments ago when Stephie had been cuddled in Paige’s purple bedsheets; that had felt right, like a place her daughter could truly belong. She shuffles her feet nervously as she watches Paige caress Stephie’s cheeks before pressing her lips against the little girl’s forehead.

“I love you Miss Buecks,” Azzi hears Stephie mutter and she digs her fingernails into her palms.

Paige lets out a quiet whimper, shuddering slightly as she echoes the words back, “I love you more Stephie-bean.”

That should be enough, Azzi thinks, it should be enough that Stephie loves Paige and Paige loves Stephie to keep them together. And it’s not fair that it isn’t but if there’s anyone that knows that sometimes love isn’t quite enough to keep two people together, it’s Azzi. There’s too much there, too much history and she’d been naive to think the past wouldn’t cast a dark shadow on her present.

The walk back downstairs feels like it takes an eternity; like they’re climbing back down from a tall mountain. Azzi walks ahead of Paige and she can feel the blonde’s gaze lingering on her back, can practically feel the tension vibrating off of her body at the prospect of the talk they’re about to have. Drew stands at the bottom of the stairs, nervously pacing with his hands stuffed in his pocket. His eyes move up to meet Azzi’s when she finally reaches the last step and he looks a lot like the little boy who’d once accidentally spilled a glass of water all over one of her favorite books. He has that same guilty look he’d had back then when he’d apologized profusely, swearing he’d save up all his pocket money just to buy her another one.

“I’m sorry,” Drew says in a rush, “I didn’t know you guys were coming back down and I didn’t know Stephie was gonna hear that-any of that. I swear Azzi- you know I wouldn’t have said any of that shit if I knew she was gonna hear-”

“It’s fine Drew,” Azzi reassures him, hesitating slightly before reaching out a hand to gently pat his cheek and she’s relieved when he doesn’t immediately back away, “I know you didn’t mean to.”

Drew lets out a small sigh of relief, “okay good cause I really didn’t. I uh-” his gaze flutters between Paige and Azzi, “I’ll um- I’ll let you guys talk now,” he pauses in front of Paige, who looks about as miserable as Azzi feels, “love you no matter what Paigey,” he whispers before giving her a quick peck on her forehead and squeezing her shoulder.

And then it’s just the two of them and the heavy burden of everything they can no longer ignore.

***

April 2027

Azzi grips the armrest tightly, her eyes screwed shut as the plane shakes rapidly while preparing to land. For someone who’s pretty-well travelled and has dealt with her fair share of turbulent plane rides, Azzi still finds herself going ridgid every time an aircraft she’s on starts getting a little too bumpy. She can practically hear Paige’s teasing voice -even after all this time- calling her a big baby but the blonde would have laced their fingers together anyway, distracted her with some random story and she’d have held on to her hand -no matter how sweaty- until the plane stopped moving.

God, Azzi misses her so fucking much.

But hopefully she won’t have to for much longer. Azzi’s not quite sure what’ll happen after she lands in Dallas, hasn’t -in a very un-Azzi-like step- even really practiced what she wants to say. But, and she knows it’s a little dramatic but she thinks she can probably come up with a mix of apologizing, begging for forgiveness and declaring her undying love that would atleast get Paige to consider giving her another chance.

There’s this hollow ache in her chest that hasn’t gone away for the last two years. And Azzi had tried to ignore it, had tried to shift her focus to everything else -everything good- that was happening in her life. But even after she’d had an All-American last season at UConn, even after she’d let that team to a back-to-back national championship, even after she’d been the first pick of the 2026 draft to GSV, even after she’d won rookie of the year, there was a still lingering pain -a deep rooted sense of something she’d lost- etched through her whole body. The thing is that Azzi knows she can survive -can even succeed- without Paige- but she doesn’t want to. Not anymore.

The decision was a long-time coming, the inevitable leap of faith to chase after what she wanted most in the world. But it had all clicked into place at the most mundane of times. She’d been at the park on her regular morning run and she’d seen a family -two women who’d looked at each other like they’d stop breathing if they looked away and their beautiful baby girl who was happily swinging in between them- and suddenly everything else had felt so insignificant in comparison. She’d been forced to admit the truth she’d been trying so hard to run away from. That was the future Azzi wanted -perhaps not immediately but eventually- and she wanted it with Paige.

Azzi hadn’t let herself overthink it, knowing that if she gave herself enough time, she’d more than likely talk herself out of it. Instead, she’d booked the tickets from San Francisco to Dallas in a rush and then called Ice -the newly anointed Dallas Wing rookie- and it hadn’t taken much to convince her former teammate - who’d all but squealed at the idea of her ‘parents getting back together’- to pick her up from the airport and drive her straight to Paige’s.

“She’s gonna be so happy,” Ice had assured her, “I mean I’ve only been here like a week but I know for sure she misses you Az. Oh my god this is so exciting,” and Azzi had laughed as she’d listened to the sound of her friend giddily clapping, “I’m so excited for the two of you. You belong together.”

A serene smile crosses Azzi’s face, and she knows it must look a little ridiculous just smiling to herself like this, but all she can think about is that she’d be with Paige soon. And she’s not naive enough to think that everything would miraculously be okay; she knows just how deeply her rejection must have pierced into Paige’s soul. But if the other woman gives her the chance, Azzi’s ready to spend an eternity making it up to her.

She sucks in a deep breath as the wheels of the plane collide with the runway, her eyes crinkling slightly as she realizes the weather app had lied to her and instead of the ambient evening she’d expected, it’s torrential downpour outside. In hindsight, maybe that should have been her first sign. But for now, Azzi smiles at the raindrops trickling down the window, clichéd memories of kissing in the rain -”baby come on, it's romantic, who cares if we get sick”- flooding her brain.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Dallas Fort Worth International Airport. The time outside is currently 7 pm in the evening. We hope you had a good flight and on behalf of Delta Airlines, we wish you a pleasant stay,” the pilot’s voice croons throughout the speakers as Azzi fidgets with her necklace, her last Christmas gift from Paige.

Just a little while longer baby. I’m coming to you. Forever.

***

The nerves she’d kept at bay hit Azzi all at once as soon as she climbs into Ice’s car; the thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong barrage into her mind as she watches the windshield wipers furiously fight against the rain. What if Paige doesn’t wanna see her? What if Paige isn’t willing to give her another chance? What if Paige hates her?

“Dude,” Ice groans, briefly looking away from the road to flick Azzi’s arm, “I can literally hear you thinking. Chill the fuck out!”

“I’m trying,” Azzi whines, leaning her head against the cool window, “Fuck, Ice what if this is the dumbest shit I’ve ever done in my life? What if she sees me and is like ‘what the fuck are you doing here,’ what if she tells me go home? Oh my god Ice why the fuck did you let me do this?”

“Let you?” Ice splutters indignantly, “oh no no no. You are not putting this on me. You didn’t even let me say anything when you called. It was literally ‘hey Ice, I’m coming to Dallas, make sure you pick me up in 6 hours okay thanks’ and next thing I know you’re in Dallas,” the younger girl mimics the phone-call as Azzi continues to groan.

“This is why I leave the spontaneous shit up to Paige,” she says, stressfully rubbing her face.

“Yeah but-” Ice gives her a lopsided grin, her tone softening considerably, “she’s gonna love that you did this for her Az. Trust me dude- the two of you- you’re meant to be. Everyone’s always known that. She’s gonna be so fucking happy to see you.”

“Thank Icey,” Azzi says softly, dragging in another deep breath, “I needed to hear that.”

“Any time Az, any time,” Ice reaches over to squeeze her hand and Azzi finally lets herself relax into her seat.

The rest of the car ride consists of reminiscing their time at UConn -it’s strange to think that they’re both alums now- and Ice telling Azzi stories about her move from Connecticut to Texas. Anticipation builds in Azzi’s stomach as she glances at the GSP, eyes fixating on the ‘3 minutes till your destination’ bubble on the bottom left corner.

Her destination.

Azzi thinks no matter how much she’d tried to fight, no matter how much she’d tried to turn and walk the other way, all roads were always meant to lead here. Paige was always meant to be her final destination. She’s not one for fairytales, doesn’t think life began with once upon a time, but as Ice’s car comes to halt opposite the blonde’s apartment, Azzi hopes that her life has a happily ever after where she and Paige get to write the ending of their stories together.

“We’re here,” Ice says slowly, smiling ear to ear as she turns towards Azzi, “go get your girl.”

“Okay, okay-” Azzi whispers to herself, “you’ve got this Azzi. Just fall to your knees and tell her you’re sorry and that you love her,” she shoves Ice when the younger girl snorts at her little pep talk and then breathes in deeply, “it’s gonna be okay. I’ve got this. I’ve got this!”

“You’ve got this,” Ice affirms, forever a supportive child.

Taking one more breath, Azzi’s just about to step outside, when she sees her. Paige is walking, almost running towards her apartment. Despite the rain, in typical Paige-fashion, the blonde doesn’t have an umbrella. Strands of wet hair are plastered against her forehead and little droplets of rain cascade down her face and neck. Her shirt sticks to her body so that Azzi can see the definition of her abs and the younger woman would love to take a moment to appreciate just how fucking hot Paige looks but instead, her eyes follow the bulge of the blonde’s biceps down to where her hands are interlocked with someone else’s. Someone else who’s not Azzi.

She gasps for air but she swears it’s carbon dioxide that settles in her lungs instead because god, does it burn.

Paige is laughing, eyes twinkling as she and a beautiful woman -a beautiful woman who isn’t Azzi- race to get out of the rain. She hears Ice curse behind her, sounding just as confused as she feels as the two of them watch the scene unfold in front of them, watching Paige and the woman come to halt right in front of the blonde’s apartment building.

“Az maybe we should-”

“Who is that?” Azzi cuts Ice off, her eyes still transfixed on the two smiling women.

Ice sighs, “her name’s Olivia. She’s a reporter for the Dallas Morning News-”

“And who is she to Paige?” Azzi asks bitterly, as if she doesn’t know the answer, as if the way Paige is wrapping an arm around that woman’s waist isn’t enough of an answer in itself.

“I don’t know. Azzi I swear I didn’t know she had a-” Ice hesitates, “she hasn’t told me anything about another woman.

Azzi doesn’t say anything, hand tightly gripping the car door she hadn’t even had a chance to open as she watches Paige brush a loose strand of hair out of the woman’s face.

The tip of the dagger pierces against her heart.

The woman smiles at Paige as she wraps her arms around the blonde’s neck and now they’re pressed flush against each other, barely any space between them.

The dagger digs deeper.

Paige caresses the woman’s cheeks.

The dagger twists.

It happens in slow motion; Paige moving ever so slowly as she presses her lips against the woman’s.

And the dagger lodges itself somewhere so deep inside Azzi, she thinks it might be permanently entrenched inside her soul.

It’s funny, Azzi thinks as she watches the two women break apart -their hands intertwining again as they start walking into the apartment- anyone else watching this scene would perhaps think of it as something straight out of a romantic comedy. But to Azzi, it feels like the climax scene of a tragedy.

“Can you take me back to the airport?” she says slowly, still watching Paige’s retreating back.

“What- no Azzi I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ice disagrees immediately, “c’mon we’ll go back to my place and I swear I have some good vodka left over from my housewarming party-”

“Ice please,” Azzi begs, her voice hoarse, “I just wanna go home. Please.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever you say Azzi,” Ice concedes softly, already starting to pull away from the curb.

“You can’t tell her about this, you know that right?”

“Az-”

“No Ice. She’s moved on and she’s allowed to move on,” the words feel like thorns on the tip of her tongue, “she looks happy. I won’t ruin that. You can’t tell her. You can’t ever tell her.”

“Fine,” Ice nods reluctantly, “I won’t say anything.”

Azzi allows herself one more look back at the apartment, allows herself one more second to dream of Paige running back outside, spotting her and telling her that all of this is just one big misunderstanding, telling her that she hasn’t found someone else, telling her that she’s still Azzi’s. But dreams aren’t reality. No, reality is the fact that Paige looked happy, looked happy with someone that wasn’t Azzi. And even if that damn fucking dagger -sharpened with the image of Paige and someone else- is making her bleed out, Azzi thinks that her heart will still a find way to keep beating, as long as she knows that Paige is happy.

***

The almost two thousand dollar last-minute flight back to San Francisco passes by in a blur. Azzi feels like she’s sleep-walking as she gets into the uber, pressing play on a voice message Ice had left her from after she’d gotten on the plane.

“Azzi please text or call me as soon as you land. I’m really worried about you dude. I’m so fucking sorry. I had no idea. I texted Adam after -he’s a team manager that’s really close with Paige- and I guess she and Olivia have been dating since the end of the season last year but Paige is keeping it highkey on the DL like the team barely knows and I swear Az- I didn’t know. Fuck please don’t do anything stupid Azzi. Text me as soon as you hear this and then just- just go home and sleep and call me tomorrow morning. I love you Az, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Since the end of the season, Azzi thinks slowly, her brain still a fuddled mess. That meant that Paige had been with someone for almost eight months. And Azzi knows she has no right to feel this hurt, let alone feel that tiny spark of betrayal that’s lingering underneath it. She’s the one that had let go; it’s only natural that Paige would eventually find someone else to hold on to.

“Where to Miss?” the uber driver asks as Azzi’s typing out a short ‘landed’ text to Ice.

It’s almost two in the morning and sleep prickles against Azzi’s eyes, her body feeling barely functional but the urge to just forget is stronger than the wave of tiredness washing over her body. And so she ignores every good instinct she has and instead of giving the cab drive her home address, Azzi tells him to drive to the nearest bar instead.

It’s a heat-of-the-moment decision -taken as sordid images of Paige wrapped around another woman cloud her ability to think- and she doesn’t know it’s about to change the trajectory of her whole life.

***

May 2033

The silence in the living room is deafening as Paige and Azzi find themselves sitting on opposite sides of the sofa. Azzi’s fingers tap against her thighs; resisting the impulse to reach over and touch the other girl, comfort her and be comforted in return. This night has felt like one of the longest in her life, all the hits falling like dominoes with the two of them at the end of the line. And perhaps it’s the way she’s starting to feel the bruises now as she absorbs everything that’s happened tonight that has her thinking fuck it and turning to Paige with a pleading look on her face.

“Can you just-” Azzi hesitates as she scooches just slightly closer to the other woman who regards the movement with wide eyes, “I know- I know we have to talk and we will but I just- it’s been a long night and I’m just so fucking tired and I just- I miss you-” she says and she’s not sure how it’s possible when Paige has been here the whole night but it’s the truth, “and I just- can you just hold me? Please?”

Paige is so still that for a moment Azzi thinks maybe she’s asked for too much but then the older woman is moving -so fast like she’s scared the brunette will change her mind- and Azzi feels herself being lifted sideways onto Paige’s lap. The blonde’s grip is iron tight as Azzi buries her head into the crevice of her neck, breathing in the smell of all things Paige. She reaches her hand out gently, placing it against the older woman’s chest, trying to stabilize the two of them to the steady beat of Paige’s heart as the other woman rubs her hand up and down Azzi’s back. They stay like that for god knows how long and Azzi wishes she could just keep them like this forever, in each other’s arms.

But they need to talk.

And Azzi reluctantly untangles herself Paige, closing her eyes when the blonde lets out a soft whimper. She doesn’t move all the way to the other end of the sofa this time; choosing instead to sit right next to Paige with their legs pressed togethers and it’s not nearly enough -too little when all she wants is to be consumed by Paige- but at least it’s something.

“I was going to tell you tonight,” Paige starts slowly, “you remember in the car when I said I would explain the whole Angie thing to you, well that- that’s part of this whole mess.”

Azzi furrows her eyebrows, “Angie? What does- what does she have to do with this?”

“I’ll get there okay- just- just let me start from the beginning,” Paige says nervously, “just listen okay.”

Biting her lip, Azzi nods, signaling for the older woman to continue.

“I didn’t want to come to GSV-”

“Because of me?”

Paige sighs, “yes. It- it just- it felt like such a bad idea at the time. You broke my heart Az,” she shoots Azzi an apologetic look when she flinches at the bluntness of it, “and coming here- being around you- I was scared it was gonna be a reminder of that all the time. Every time I’ve seen you these last couple of years Az- it’s hurt. And I just didn’t- I couldn’t live with that every day.”

It’s not something Azzi wants to here but she understands it; she’d felt the exact same way when Colleen had first told her about GSV being interested in Paige.

“But more than anything,” Paige continues, “I was scared that coming here meant giving you a chance to do it again. Because the two of us being together for more than just a fleeting moment- well it felt inevitable that something would happen and I was just so scared that it would be something bad. And so I fought Talia every step of the way until she forced me to come here and I met Stephie,” a soft smile flitters across the blonde’s face, “and she just- she said I’d look good in purple.”

Azzi laughs, “and that’s all it took huh?”

“You know me. A little bit of flattery will get you everywhere,” Paige grins, “but it wasn’t just her,” she nudges Azzi, “it was you. I was so sure you were gonna tell me to turn it down, tell me that there was no way this was gonna work. But you didn’t. You’re always surprising me I guess. Baby you said you wanted me on your team and that was it for me. No matter how much I said I needed time to think or whatever, as soon as you asked me to come here, I knew I was a Valkyrie.”

“I lied to Colleen that it was for the team,” Azzi admits, “think I even lied to myself about it that I wanted you here to help us win a championship. And yeah maybe that was a little bit of it but I just-” she looks down shyly at her lap, “I just wanted you. Here. With me.”

They’re quiet for a little bit, letting their confession dangle in the air until Azzi breaks it, her mind back to focusing on the revelation from before, “I don’t get it then Paige- what was Drew talking about then? What is this whole plan thing with the Liberty? Being in New York by October? I know your contract is for a year but I just-” she shrugs, “I just assumed you were gonna renew with us so where- where does New York even come into play in all of this? I’m just- I’m just so confused.”

Paige chews at her bottom lip and fidgets with her fingers, two tell-tale signs of her nerves as she keep her gaze firmly away from meeting Azzi’s, “I guess- I guess all my fighting against GSV got through to Talia and after I’d made up my mind to sign with the Valkyries, she- she figured out a verbal deal with the Liberty. They didn’t- they didn’t have the money for me this year but next year with Sabrina retiring- next year they will and GSV knew they were gonna get Angie to be their point guard of the future and it all just- it all made sense. I’d stay here for a year, mentor Angie so she could be my replacement for next year and then I’d-”

“Then you’d leave,” Azzi says bitterly and this time it’s Paige who flinches, “but you said- you said Stephie and I convinced you to come here- so- so what? We only convinced you to come for a year?” she asks, her tone sharper than she intended it to be.

“No it wasn’t- it wasn’t like that,” Paige tries to justify, “I just- it scared me how easy it was for me to be convinced. It was one moment with Stephie- one moment with you- and I was ready to make a decision for my future based just off of those two little moments. Do you know how scary that is? And I knew- I knew that coming here- being around the two of you would just- it would make me fall so fucking fast -and it has- and I was just so scared that I’d get my heart broken again and I just- I needed an escape plan.”

“You needed an excuse to leave us,” Azzi says venomously.

“That’s not fair Azzi,” Paige says quietly, “you have to understand how afraid I was of history repeat itself Az,” she reaches for the younger woman’s hand, enveloping it between her own, “when I lost you the first time, I was so fucking broken and it took me so long to fix myself- I- I don’t even know if I did ever fully fix me. You can’t blame me for being scared of having to go through it again.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second before she finally lets out a sigh because Paige is right and she can’t- she won’t hold whatever decision the other woman had made before they’d found their way back to each other, against her.

“Okay. Okay. I- I get it. I get why you were scared. I get why you had a whole backup plan and-,” she grins teasingly at the blonde, “and now I also get why you were such a bitch to Angie.”

Paige laughs a little, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s and closing her eyes, letting themselves melt into a comfortable silence as they bask in each other’s presence and for a moment’s Azzi feels floaty and free until Drew’s words replay themselves inside her head.

“Paige,” she says slowly, earning a little hum of acknowledgement from the other woman, “it’s over now though right? The deal- you- you’re gonna tell the Liberty that it’s off? No more New York right? Not even as an escape plan?”

The blonde stiffens, her eyes opening immediately.

“Paige,” Azzi presses, lifting her forehead so she can study the older woman’s face properly, the false comfort of a few seconds ago being replaced by a leaden pit in her stomach.

“I- I don’t know,” Paige whispers, so quietly that it takes a couple of seconds for Azzi’s ears to even pick it up. But when it does finally register -the repeat of what she’d said to Stephie- it feels like something’s slowly cracking inside Azzi, until the cracks get larger and larger and something shatters, the pieces of it lodging themselves in every organ of her body.

“You don’t-” Azzi swallows, pulling her hands out Paige’s, “you don’t know?”

“Az-”

“No,” Azzi holds her hand out in a stop sign as Paige tries to grab for her, “how- how can you not know,” she keeps speaking even when the blonde tries to reply, “Paige you- you were the one who pushed for this. You were the one who begged- who convinced me to try. Why- why would you do that? What have we been doing for the last few weeks Paige if you’re still thinking about leaving at the end of the season? God Paige- how can you even say that you don’t know?”

“I thought I did,” Paige bumbles out, “these past few weeks have been everything to me Azzi and I thought I knew but tonight- everything Drew said-” she stops suddenly and Azzi knows whatever the young man had said isn't something Paige wants to repeat back to her.

“What did Drew say?”

Paige hesitates, “he thinks you’re gonna break my heart and that I’ll lose you and that I’ll-” she clutches her throat like the next words are physically painful to say, “that I’ll lose Stephie.”

“And you- you think he’s right?”

There’s heartbreak etched all over Paige’s face as she shrugs helplessly, “you’ve done it before Az. You let me go. You- you said no-”

“And you’re one who left,” Azzi bursts out, tears cascading down her face as she rises to her feet.

Paige guffaws up at her, “what?”

“I know I said no but you left literally the next fucking day before I could say anything else. God Paige, I know I fucked up and I know that it’s mainly my fault. Trust me I’ve regretted it every single day,” Azzi sobs, “but you- you left Paige. I know I let you go but you didn’t hold on to me either. You just- you left.”

“Azzi-”

“I understand why you had an escape plan before,” Azzi says, wiping away her tears, “but I can’t be with you if you still have one now. Especially not when Stephie’s involved. She’s already so fucking attached and if you can’t promise not to leave her then I- I can’t let her get anymore attached. I can’t watch my baby girl cry like she did tonight- not again Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige says again, like it's the only word she knows; the only word that matters.

Azzi falls to her knees in front of the other woman, wrapping her hands around Paige’s tightly wounded fists.

“I get that you’re scared and I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel like heartbreak is inevitable with me,” she presses a kiss against the blonde’s knuckles, “but Paige I- I can’t- live like this, I can’t live knowing that you could leave me -leave us- any second. I need you to trust me, I need you to believe in us and I need you to tell me you’ll stay. And if you can’t do that then-”

“Please don’t say it,” Paige breathes out, her shoulders radiating with tension.

Azzi stands back up slowly, delicately placing her lips against the older woman’s forehead. She feels Paige shudder under her touch as she tries to put every little bit of emotion, every little bit of please choose me, please choose us, please choose to stay, into that kiss.

“Just- just think about it- sleep on it I guess. Take your time Paige but I- I need more than ‘I don’t know’ as an answer,” she says finally, the words lingering between them as she brushes away a couple of strands of the blonde’s hair before letting out a sigh as she puts some space between them, “I should go.”

Paige’s fingers immediately wrap around her wrist as the other woman blinks up at Azzi with pleading eyes, “don’t go-”

“Paige-”

“It’s late. Stephie’s asleep. Just- just stay.”

You stay, Azzi wants to scream because how can Paige ask her to do the one thing that the older woman herself is scared to do. But she’s exhausted and driving home -to a house that’s entrenched with the memories of the last few weeks but wouldn’t have Paige in it- sounds like something dreadful. And so she nods, shooting Paige another longing look before she heads towards the staircase.

“Az,” she hears the other woman call out just as she’s about to climb onto the first step, making her stop and turn her head over her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“You know right? You know that- that I-” Paige gulps, “you know that I lo-”

“No,” Azzi says immediately, shaking her head rapidly, “say it to me when you can tell me you’ll stay.”

***

May 2027

Azzi taps her foot incessantly against the hardwood floor as her gaze nervously flitters towards the front of the restaurant, where a man in a light blue polo shirt and dark jeans has just walked in, his own eyes scanning the premises in search of someone. She has the ridiculous urge to shrink in her seat, to hide away from his wandering eyesight as if he’s not the reason she’s here in the first place. Taking a deep breath and counting to ten Mississippis, Azzi finally raises her hand, trying to wave him over.

“Tristan,” she calls out, attempting to arrange her features into a smile to match his when the man in question finally spots her.

“Hey,” Tristan choruses, his eyes twinkling as he slips into the seat opposite Azzi, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kinda shocked you called. Not that I’m not happy- I mean, who wouldn’t be happy if a pretty girl called but I- I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Azzi tries to give him a humorous grin, “so you just gave me your number expecting nothing?”

She’s trying to make a joke but it comes out flat and she hopes he can’t read just how uncomfortable she is; won’t call her out for the uneasiness that she knows is radiating off of her.

“Expecting? No. Hoping? Definitely,” Tristan smirks and Azzi’s reminded of the charm he’d exuded that night in the bar.

The memory makes her want to throw up- well she supposes it’s probably not just the memory but also her little situation. She regards the man in front of her warily; he’s not bad to look at and at first glance he doesn’t exude any major red flags. And she’s almost ready to give her way-too-fucking-drunk past self a pat on the back because she'd made multiple dumb-as-fuck decisions that night -exhibit a: fucking a random stranger in a bar while mourning her ex- but at least she’d had the sense not to choose a complete psychopath.

“Well I called,” she announces awkwardly.

Tristan raises an eyebrow, “it’s been a whole month.”

Azzi bites her lip, “better late than never?”

The man in front of her snorts, “I suppose so but honestly I wasn’t expecting you to call at all. I mean- I figured you’d have gotten back together with your ex.”

That causes Azzi to suck in a sharp breath, her fingers digging crescent shaped scars into her palms.

“I mean,” Tristan continues, oblivious to the way his words cut into the woman in front of him, “you just- you sounded like you really loved her and the way you talked about your relationship- it just- it sounded so perfect and I know I don’t know her and I know- I know you mentioned she was seeing someone else but you just- your relationship like- that shit sounded unbeatable and so I just- I guess I just assumed that if you wanted her back- she’d want you back-”

“She’s engaged,” Azzi says loudly and it would be comical how quickly that shuts Tristan up if it wasn’t for the fact that saying those words out loud, feels like shooting an arrow into her own heart. She can still see the engagement announcement floating behind her eyes; can still so clearly see the pictures of Paige down on one knee for a woman who was beaming down at her, for someone who had said yes.

“Oh,” Tristan’s saved from having to say anything more when the waiter appears with a menu.

“What can I get you guys today?” the waitress asks cheerfully.

“Just the salmon for me please,” Azzi says, still a little lost in her thoughts.

“And for you sir?” the waitress turns to Tristan after jotting down Azzi’s order.

“I will have the chicken with a waldorf salad on the side but with no nuts please; I’m allergic to most nuts,” Tristan responds politely as the waitress nods and starts to walk away but it’s the last part that perks Azzi’s ears up.

“You’re allergic to nuts? Is that like- is that genetic?” she asks.

Tristan seems a little taken back by her curiosity of his allergy but he nods his head yeah and Azzi pencils that little fact into her brain, figuring it would be an important tidbit to share with her doctor.

“So your ex is engaged,” Tristan repeats, looking apologetic when his bluntness makes Azzi flinch but it’s replaced by a smirk as he lounges back in his seat, “so you called me for what? A rebound? I mean look Az, you’re a gorgeous girl but only being called for a rebound might just give a guy a complex.”

She knows he’s trying to be suave -charming even- but instead all it does is give her the ick and Azzi’s reminded of why she’d avoided men since her mistake of a boyfriend back in her senior year of high school. Hell, she’d only dated him because she and Paige had been trying their hands at another attempt of being just friends and the blonde was dating some pretty girl. But he’d been the first and last man she’d ever been with -which wasn’t surprising considering it had taken her and Paige only a year after to finally get together- until that night at the bar.

Azzi barely remembers anything about that night beyond flashes of memories but she remembers the morning after clearly, remembers the regret that had coiled itself around her ribs. She’d practically run out of the hotel room, barely managing to keep the tears at bay in the back of the uber. She hadn’t even made it to her bedroom, breaking down in the middle of her living room floor as everything that had happened the night before -seeing Paige with someone else, being with someone else- hit her like an avalanche. Azzi doesn’t know how long she’d sat in a sobbing mess on the floor but at some point she must have fallen asleep, because her next memory is Colleen towering over her, a look of pure concern on her bestfriend’s face as she shook her awake. And then she was crying again, this time wrapped in the comfort of Colleen’s arm as she let the regret of all her mistakes -from the past and the present- flow down her cheeks.

All she’d wanted after, was to just forget about the night -forget the image of Paige kissing a stranger, forget the image of herself walking up next to a stranger- and for a little while, the world had even granted her that wish. That was until a mandatory pre-season checkup had given her news that would make sure she’d never forget that night.

“Azzi?” Tristan clicks his fingers in front of her face to get her attention, “you still with me?”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to come back to reality instead of staying lost in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she finally puts into words the truth that has become the epicenter of her world.

“I’m pregnant.”

Tristan stares at her with a shell-shocked look on his face, his eyes unblinking and wide as his mouth slowly morphs into a ‘O’ shape, “you’re- you’re pregnant?”

“Yes,” Azzi nods, her tone shifting from nervous into something more businesslike, “and before you ask, yes it’s definitely yours. But you don’t have to feel pressured to be involved beyond whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m more than financially capable of taking care of a child by myself and I’m very lucky to have a great support system in my friends and family so I’m not depending on you for any-”

“You’re keeping it?” Tristan cuts her off, sounding almost disbelieving that, that was the choice she was making.

Azzi stops at his words, tongue darting out to wet her lips. She’d gone back and forth with the decision from the minute she’d found out. Most of the factors in Azzi’s life pointed towards an abortion being the best thing for her. She was an athlete at the beginning of the peak of her career and she was only 25 years old, a young adult who’d just started this journey of life. For all her responsibleness, Azzi was still figuring out how to take care of herself. How could she possibly take care of a baby?

She’d been just about to call Dr. Myers when instead her phone had opened to the instagram app; Paige’s engagement announcement the first thing on her feed.

There’d been a thousand and one emotions that burst through Azzi but she’d fixated specifically one of them; loneliness. It was a ridiculous thing to feel for a girl whose family had moved across the country for her; whose best friend had become her manager and followed her to a brand new state. But Azzi felt it every time she was alone, sometimes even when she was surrounded by hundreds of people. She was so fucking lonely.

And that’s when she’d decided she wanted this baby, a baby she could love and a baby who’d love her back, a baby who would fill this aching whole in her heart. A baby that would be hers.

Azzi would never be lonely again.

“Yes,” she answers Tristan’s question without a hint of hesitation, “I’m keeping the baby.”

“Wow- okay- this is- sorry,” Tristan shakes his head, his previous casual demeanour having changed to something far more rigid, “this is just- it’s a lot to process.”

“I understand,” Azzi says gently, “take your time.”

Tristant stares down at the table for what feels like an eternity and when he looks up, well, Azzi doesn’t really know the man in front of her at all- hasn’t even had the chance to ask him his last name, but she knows what the guilt in his eyes means. She remembers seeing it when she’d met her own biological father, only once, only for an hour and never again but a snapshot of it has been saved to her brain ever since.

“I’m sorry,” he says, standing up from the table, “I can’t do this. I’m not ready to be a father. I can’t have a baby. Fuck me. I’m barely an adult. I can’t take care of a child. I’m sorry, I just- I can’t.”

“I understand,” Azzi replies clinically even though her stomach lurches a little at the rejection, at the realization that her child would grow up with the ever-present question of why didn’t he stay, just like she had.

Azzi hadn’t called Tristan for lunch with the intent of getting anything out of it. The plan had simply been to do her due diligence by telling the father of her child that she was pregnant. After that, the decision would be in his hands and she’d made peace with the fact this -what had just happened- could be one of the outcomes. She hadn’t come here under the guise of reconnecting, finding a husband or any of that, not when, even thinking of any of that -despite the fact that Paige is engaged to someone else- feels a little bit like cheating. But Tristan's response still stings.

Because he might not have been her first option to raise a child with-really she’d only ever wanted any of that with one person- but Azzi thinks if he’d wanted to try, she would’ve liked having a partner to watch her child grow up with

“I’m sorry. I’m really, really, really sorry,” Tristan repeats again as he starts to back away, “I wish you-” his eyes flicker down to her stomach, “I wish both of you the best.”

Azzi nods, “thank you,” and the words of gratitude are for a little more than just his best wishes.

Tristan pauses for one second, hesitating as he looks at Azzi's belly one more time with an indecipherable emotion in his eyes, something a little like regret. But it’s not enough to make him stay and Azzi watches, with a hand on her stomach, as he turns walks out of the restaurant. Through the window, she watches him walking down the street, getting smaller and smaller until he rounds the curb, disappearing out of sight. And Azzi lets out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding.

“Oh,” her head snaps towards the waitress, who’s carrying two plates of food and looking awkwardly at Tristan’s abandoned seat, “your uh- your friend- where is he?”

“He’s gone,” Azzi says quietly.

“Is he coming back?”

“No,” Azzi shakes her head, “no, I don’t think he is.”

***

May 2033

The memory burns against the back of Azzi’s eyelids as she lies, wide awake, in Paige’s guest room with Stephie tightly snuggled against her chest. She’s not sure what exactly had triggered the memory because honestly, she doesn’t think about Stephie’s father -her sperm donor to be more accurate- that often. He’d existed for a mere second in the clock of her life, disappearing almost as fast as he’d appeared. But there’s a part of Azzi that will always be thankful to him, because he’s part of the reason she has this beautiful little girl who’s sleeping in her arms.

A little girl who she loves and who loves her back, a little girl who’d filled the aching hole in her heart. A little girl, that was hers.

And Azzi hasn’t been lonely ever since she’d been handed her little girl.

Until tonight.

Her eyes drift to the other side of the bed and she can’t help but focus on just how empty it looks, can help but be immersed in the feeling of something’s missing. It’s the first night in weeks that the other side of the bed isn’t filled and everything about it feels so fucking wrong. Azzi sighs, resting her cheek on Stephie’s head as she rubs her hand up and down the little girl’s shoulder. She can’t sleep and she knows -by the little telltale frown on her daughter’s face- that the little girl might be asleep, but it’s the kind that’s deeply troubled.

She’s just about to close her eyes for another unsuccessful attempt at letting her exhaustion lull her into a slumber, when she hears the sound of footsteps right outside her door. Azzi rises up slowly, gently disentangling herself from Stephie as she squints through the little gap between the door and the floor. It doesn’t take a genius to know who it is and Azzi’s heart thumps anticipation as she watches the shadow of feet pacing back and forth. Suddenly they disappear and disappointment -even it’s ridiculous to feel it after the events of the night- courses through Azzi. Sighing to herself again, she lays back down, closing her eyes.

A minute later they shoot open at the sound of the door being pushed and Azzi sits back up again, something like relief -something like i’m so glad you’re here, i'm so glad you came back please don’t ever go again- rushing into her veins. It takes a second for her eyes to adjust to the sight of the figure in the dark but once they do, Paige is practically illuminated by the moonlight streaking through the windows. The blonde looks at her, not a speckle of shock at the fact that she’s awake because Paige knows her, knows her the way Azzi had known Paige was awake too, knows that they’d never been particularly good at falling asleep after an argument.

“Can’t sleep,” Paige admits out loud in a whisper, nervously shuffling her feet by the doorway.

“Me neither,” Azzi confesses, her hands brushing through Stephie’s hair.

Their revelations -and the i can’t sleep because i can’t sleep without you hidden behind them- hang in the air, waiting for the two of them to say anything else as they stare at each other in the dark room.

Paige speaks first, stumbling towards the bed, “can I just-”

“Yes,” Azzi breathes out before the question’s even finished, “please.”

Despite the urgency in their words, Paige is slow, climbing into bed, like she’s waiting for Azzi to take it back. The blonde slips underneath the covers, her hands immediately moving to rub Stephie’s back where they collide against Azzi’s fingers and that lightest bit of contact elicits a breathy gasp from both of them. There’s so much still left to say, so much still left to fix, so much they’re not sure can be fixed, but as Azzi slowly lies back down, her fingers interlocking with Paige’s over Stephie’s tiny body, she thinks that she might not survive, if these fleeting moments don’t lead to forever.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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misguidedasgardian · 5 months ago

Text

GLADIATORS

CREGAN I.

MASTERLIST

Summary: You see your father’s latest acquisition in a closer way, a wild man from the North who had become one of his gladiators.

Pairing: Slave!Gladiator!Cregan x Domina!Reader

Warnings: Ancient Rome AU, Cursing, slavery (and everything that comes with it, technically rape, forced labour, punishments), blood, guts, gladiator battles, lude language, nudity, sex and everything related is no biggie here, we’re a ‘sex positive’ Republic, mentions of sex, same sex couples, orgies, and more.

MINORS DNI + 18

Wordcount: 6,7 k

Notes: This reader is young perhaps… like 18? 20? but so is Cregan!

“Dad, he is old!”, you whined. You heard your older brother snicker by your side, as their silly wives snickered like the silly girls they were. You sighed as you popped a grape into your mouth followed closely by a piece of cheese and bread and a sip of wine.

“He’s got money… and he is in the senate!”, he said then, signaling one of the slaves to start lighting up the oil lamps along the Triclinium, the night had fallen over King’s Landing and it was getting dark.

“I bet you could find someone who’s in the senate who’s got a wife he is willing to divorce, and he won’t die of old age before the wedding”, mocked your eldest brother, but soon got quiet as your father looked at him with severity

“Nobody should divorce their wives on my account”, you said, the notion made your stomach turn. Even though divorce was a common thing, if a man desired another, or another union would ensure more privileges, or if his woman was unfaithful or not able to give in heirs to the family, they could divorce. A woman could divorce her husband too if she had her own reasons.

You knew the dowry of your middle brother’s bride was quickly being spent on the training of the gladiators in the Ludus underneath the house, so he needed to come into some money quickly, even though he would have to pay for your dowry.

One of the greatest events of the year was coming quickly, and his Gladiators needed to be in top shape.

“Tomorrow I want you all there, at the games of Senator Tywin”

“Have we’ve been invited to the pulvinus father?”, asked your eldest brother

“Close enough, right by it”, he said, he seemed pleased, but you had learned to read him better, there was something lurking in his eyes that betrayed a darker desire… for more power perhaps.

“I've heard that Larys Strong and therefore Alys Rivers got an invitation this year to the pulvinus, and her gladiators in the primus at sundown”, whispered Martyn

You had two oldest brothers, Alton and Martyn.

“That Ludus stands as such because of that whore Alys Rivers”, mumbled your father

“A woman Lanista?”, you asked, “how could that be?”

“She is not, but she whispers in her half-brother's ear while he aspires to be in higher positions”, explains your father. “While his brother, first born son and heir goes around playing gladiator”

“He is a slave?”, you asked

“He volunteer himself into that life”, murmured Alton, “you had seen him fight sister, Harwin”

“Oh wow!”, you said, not really knowing what to say, but rather, sipping your wine, you did remember seeing the biggest person you had seen upon the arenas of King’s Landing’s Coliseum.

“Anyways, Alys stands as such because she was advised many years by Daemon himself the demon of the arenas”, mumbled Martyn

“Yes, fine Daemon/Demon”, your father would repeatedly, while on his cups, tell the tale of his biggest regret, and that was not purchasing a young Daemon while he was still in training, he grew to be the greatest gladiator at the arena, so much so he won his own freedom at the games of the Vulcanalia some years ago. Daemon, as many other gladiators, came from the shadowlands of Essos, as he sported beautiful white/silver hair and violet eyes.

You would never say this outloud, but the gladiator battles were never a thing of your interest, not really. You did not liked the bloodshed, the gutting, you had no taste for violence, and yet, there was something to admire as you saw those men fighting

They looked like they were carved from the finest artist, they stood like they were gods above the sands. They stood as fierce representations of the god of war himself.

“Well, her reign of depravity will not last long, I heard the Northman shows great promise”, mumbled Martyn’s wife Adella

“What about the Northman?”, Martyn asked then, you raised your head in question. Oh the Northman.

The man had your father in a lockdown, taking most of his time, money and patience. He was ‘caught wild’ in one of the last incursions of the armies of the emperor to the wild tribes of the North, hence his nickname. Purchased by your father at the slave market, and trained for the last months. With the purchase, your father was hoping to impress Tywin Lannister himself, a senator and a very wealthy man, it did not work, so far, as the man planned to visit your father’s villa upon invitation to see the Northman’s training and hopeful subjugation. So far, no luck.

He was caught fighting, he wasn’t a stranger to it, but there was a long way from being a soldier to being a gladiator. From being… whatever he was up there, to obey command from a man that subdued you into slavery.

But again, your father’s temper has closely returned to normal, so, you could only assume the training was becoming fruitful, even so slowly.

“He will never be tamed”, he said curtly, “but… if we keep managing him properly, we can turn that hate of his into the arena, he shows great promise”

“Forgive me father”, you said, raising from your place in the triclinium, “I take my leave to bed”, you said with a soft smile, nodding at everyone present

“Good, I won’t have you all tired tomorrow”, he said approvingly, and you nodded, thinking for which old bat he would have you presentable tomorrow.

He was determined to get you wed before the autumn plantings at the end of the year, and he didn’t seem to care to whom as long as it brought privileges upon his house.

It was hot, so hot, you could barely stand, you were eternally grateful to your personal slave, Anya, who stood by your side, fanning you with a soft paper fan. She leaned into you as you allowed her, to also enjoy the soft waves.

Although, they brought some stench from all the people around you.

King’s Landing, although the capital of the great republic, stood famous for its stench, having grown rapidly and unprepared for it.

The sun cooking the viewers of the spectacle didn’t help either.

The people cheered, bringing a new wave of hodor that made you dizzy and poor Anya almost faint

“Did you see that?”, asked your elder brother to the youngest, as two gladiators fought to the death, one cutting the other’s arm. HIs screams could be heard all the way up where you stood, near the pulvinus.

You rather stare into the sun, which you did. Soon, after midday, it was going to hide behind the wooden beams supporting the canvas on top of the Arena, there you truly were going to enjoy it. being able to relish in the shadow.

“Tywin demanded only the best this city has to offer present themselves in his games”, the comment alone made you turned your gaze upon the Arena, as people cheered again, some even pushed you in their ecstasy, to see the gladiator in shining white armor decapitate the one missing his arm

“And Cole does it again”, said Martyn. The one who had an armor so polished it was blinding was known as Cole, he stood from the Rhoynar in the south, from Dorne itself, plucked from the desert to fight in another kind of arena.

“See her gloat”, demanded Alton, you all looked towards the Lanista herself, Alys Rivers in the pulvinus, with a smug look upon her face, she of course was the one holding the wip that trained the man in the arena.

She was of extraordinary beauty, long lustrous black hair, long to her hips, wearing a deep green stola, beautifully decorated atop a black tunic, you wondered how she did not bake wearing such dark colors.

She was stuck to the side of her rumored half-brother, he was a.. interesting man, thin and a bit twisted, unruly hair but fine clothing adorned his weak frame.

“People of King’s Landing…!”, presented Otto HIghtower from the pulvinus, a small but central box, where the most prominent people attending the games would sit at. He was a Senator, friend to Tywin Lannister and apparently presenter to today’s games. Maybe he was the patron of the entire occasion, your father had been paid by a HIghtower man.

But this… was far from over.

It was odd to see such a gladiator so early in the day, the sundown was reserved for the very best part of the games, the primus, between the two best and more known gladiators.

You found yourself thinking about like four names at the time.

Harwin, Cole, Aemond, and… the Northman.

Although Harwin was disapparating from latest presentations… he still held name, but he had lost his prowess as the last time he found himself in the Arena he asked for mercy as he found himself losing, he raised his hand in the air with both index and middle finger pointing to the skies begging for mercy, and it was granted.

Against Cole himself. He got terribly injured almost a year ago, thereafter only presenting himself in fights long before midday sun.

Yes, everything you knew about gladiators and fights was learnt unwillingly.

But the primus did not belong to your father, so the Northman was fighting early, thankfully. You might have a chance to survive this heat, by retiring back to your father’s villa early.

Although, these occasions were like the market for older unmarried men. And your father would have you giving everything to sell…

“... I give to you, from one of the greatest Ludus of the Republic, a man, from the wild tribes North of the neck…”, your father smiled proudly as the name of the family was spoken loudly for everyone to hear. “trained to wet the sands with the blood of his enemies… I give you… CREGAN!”, people booed at his entrance, as the wild tribes of the North had been villainized by the Republic, as relentless, violent and above all, uncultured and barbaric, but you had learned to read between the lines, they were described as such because they refused to bend the knee.

The gates of the Arena opened on the west side, revealing the men ready for battle. He stood tall and broad despite his young age, his dark brown hair tied back, although hidden by a thick helmet in the shape of a wolf’s head.

He wore nothing protecting his torso, yet a thick metal belt putting together the lower part of a tunic. He wore forearm and shin protectors, and thick leather sandals

He had a huge sword in hand, and a shield on his other.

The sight alone took your breath away.

You had seen him only practicing, briefly, as your father did not approve of you gazing from your balcony down to the men. As they would, “get distracted”, and you didn't enjoy their eyes filled with lust either. So you refrained from doing so, but…

The mere glimpses you had gotten of the men were nothing when putting in comparison to the men upon the sand today.

In all glory, in strength, as a gladiator was the mightiest representation of a man, or that is what your father always said.

This was a rare sighting though, as he had barely been making a name for himself, this time might be the first he presents himself alone. Your father was right, taiming him was proving to be incredibly difficult, but nobody could deny that even if he presented himself a gladiator today under your father’s ludus, he was still as unruly as the first time you laid eyes upon him, as the first time you gaze down upon him, entering through the gates, kicking and screaming, hair longer than you had seen in a men, even longer than he had now.

He fought your father’s guards and even the ones who he would call his brothers this present day.

Tywin himself called for the start of the fight, his opponent was someone of the Ludus of Larys himself, one with lesser note, his name left your ears as soon as you heard it.

But you couldn't care less, as when he started to move upon the sands, the rest of the world could crumble around you and it would not matter in the slightest.

“He stands superior in all aspects”, mumbled one of your brothers and you couldn't tell which as you were so hypnotized.

Cregan attacked first, and that was very frowned upon in the Lanistas, as the first to strike tended to have disadvantage, his opponent met him half way and the clash of gladious responded all over the coliseum.

There were some gladiators that favored other weapons, like the spear and short shield, or the Retiarius, that were gladiators trained with a net and a trident, in a fisherman fashion.

It sounded laughable in paper, but they were quite impressive in the arena, not this time though, both gladiators stood with a gladious, meaning a sword, and a long squared concave shield.

The fight wasn’t lengthy, the superiority of the Northman was clear since the very first movement.

Although it wasn’t less breathtaking, as each of their movements, attacks, the way they moved, and deflected, its like they were dancing, dancing in a mortal rhythm

The crowd cheered for them, and even though they were not on the Northman’s side, suddenly, they shifted as it became clear that he was the better fighter.

Although you did not enjoy the games, there was this moment, this exact moment in which you felt like your heart was in your throat and you could tear your eyes apart from the fight. The moment where you really cared about who won, about who survived. The Northman, even thought it was the

But it was brief, first Cregan drew blood on the arm of his opponent, and then, after a quick movement, the man was dead, dropped in a growing pool of blood on the floor.

The magic was gone, and the crowd erupted in cheers, applauding, screaming his name, although there were those disappointed because of the outcome.

“He will be the champion of our house!”, said Alton, “mark my words!”, he said, as your two brothers hugged each other in happiness. you turned to Anya, who had a soft smile on her face, but kept fanning the both of you

The rest of the fights happened quickly after that, the sun hiding behind the podium of the magistrates and people of importance in the city, which gave you relief as the day turned quickly, the sun moved above the sky until it hid behind the outer walls of the coliseum.

The last fight ended quickly as well, Aemond killing his opponent in an impressive showing of strength and blood.

Your father was called upon another man near the pulvinus, as you tried to stand your ground as people around you were quickly to leave the arena, but you managed to stand your ground, as your siblings found friends of their own to talk to.

Your father came back to you, rubbing his hands amongst each other with a pleased look on his face

“I must attend a meeting in the magistrate’s house”, he said happily, “He spotted me in the crowd and invited me”, you smiled at him

“I’m pleased, father”, you said with a soft smile

“See yourself to the villa, with our guards and slaves, don’t wait up”, he commanded the lot of you.

“We have been invited to the Lannisters”, mumbled Martyn, your father’s eyes again shone with interest. So he nodded towards your brother.

“I trust you’ll be well taken care of”, he said then, turning to you, he then signaled to one of his most trusted guards and even to the Doctore himself, the trainer of the gladiators.

“Yes father”, you nodded at Anya and the both of you exited the arena, followed closely by a guard.

You turned quickly as you heard your name being called by a familiar voice, as you were int he shade of the hallways, as you turned you found yourself with your old friend from your childhood, Alysanne Blackwood

“How long haven’t we gaze upon one another?”, she said, grabbing your forearms as you did hers, she leaned in a made attempt to kiss both your cheeks as it was accustomed

“Too long”, you said with a long sigh

“We shall remedy that immediately!”, she said then, “you didn’t mind telling me your father’s Ludus was the one who owns the Northman himself?”, she tried

“Oh well, much has happened in the last couple of years”, you said shyly, smiling softly at her.

This was hardly the time, all the people were leaving the coliseum, and pushed you who were trying to stand on the sidelines. She looked at you with those deep green eyes of hers, she was so beautiful, lean and tall, with thick black hair fixed beautifully and big green eyes, her smile was contagious.

“Well it's been too long”, she said then, as you failed to meet what she desired, “and I will wait no longer, to get reacquainted with dear friend”, she said, grabbing your hands

“My villa, its mine for the night, as my father meets with important men”, you offered, her smile was as beautiful as the rest of her

“Perfect, Jeyne Frey is also here”, she said, “we’ll go together”.

To say you were nervous was an understatement

The night found you and your friends in the safety of the triclinium in your family’s villa, where the soft wine flowed freely and also the dining.

“And his cock was huge!”, she said, making you gasp

“Alyssane!”, you chided, “don’t say that!”, you said, feeling your cheeks heated

“What? Cock?”, she teased, “Cock! Cock! Cock! COCK!”

“Stop it!”, you slapped her arm playfully

“I see them all the time!”, Jeyne said then, looking sheepishly, hiding her smirk in her cup of wine.

“Only because you like to peek as your brothers have sex with slaves!”, mocked Alyssane

“No I don’t!”, she said, but you knew she was lying.

“I bet that Northman’s cock is huge too”, teased Alyssane, finally revealing her true intentions behind her and Jeyne’s visit to your father’s villa. You got quiet, so did Jeyne, but the expression on her face said it all, she was as intrigued as Alyssane

“I wouldn’t know, even if I saw it”, you said

“You had never seen a man naked?”, asked Alyssane, raising one of her perfect eyebrows

“No”, you said then, well… you sort of had, men, male slaves on sale on the streets, but you had refused to look long enough to draw a complete image in your mind. What you saw in a couple of seconds did not please you at all, rather… you disliked.. something so… small and wobbly. You shaked at the very memory of it.

“You had never seen any of your gladiators in such fashion?”, asked Jeyne, ready to tease and follow Alyssane’s lead.

“No I have not!”, you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aren’t you at least a bit curious?”, asked Jeyne

“Well, of course I am”, you defended

“You are to be married before the darkest of the winter months, you should at least know what you are up against”, Alyssane said simply, “and I would not deny the sight… of such a man”

“You are here just to gaze upon naked men?”, you said playfully, although, a bitter taste in your mouth, as you were feeling clearly used, and pressured.

“No, I am here to gaze upon naked gladiators”, Jeyne said then.

But another flavor joined the others, the need deep within you impress your friends, your friends from rich houses of the capital

“Bring me the Northman”, you said to the guard that stood in the corner watching the whole reunion, he seemed terribly nervous, but nodded and left you. You shaked with the resolution in your command, and felt a pit in your stomach in anticipation.

You knew he was going to take a while, so you turned back at your friends and smiled nervously, and they seemed terribly motivated.

“I must say”, began Jeyne, as she saw your face filled with trepidation, “that my tongue will not be kept from wagging about your hospitality to my father”, she wanted to make sure you knew there was going to be recompense for this, and good recompense. His father, as old as time, sat in the senate, she stood the daughter of a senator.

“Thank you Jeyne”, you said with a soft smile, you took a long gulp of your cup, to try and soothe your nerves. Alyssane did the same, but with a smirk on her lips, she said nothing as she studied your form.

Finally, they both took sit position in their triclinium as you heard movement behind you. You looked back to see their trainer Roose Bolton, following closely behind the man himself. The wildling from the tribes of the North, whose name was Cregan Stark, although everyone called him… ‘The Northman’

He stood with thick shackles around both wrists. in front of him. He was wearing nothing but a clean subligaria, and his body was like one of a god, well defined and gleamed under the light of the torches, he had recently been cleaned. The sight made your mouth dry, so you took another long sip of the mulsum in your cup. He had thick brown hair that he used tied in the back of his head, and he had sharp eyes, cold as ice and the same colour. The features of his face were soft, declaring his young age, your own, perhaps.

“Leave us”, you demanded, but the trainer Roose Bolton looked conflicted

“Domina, I don’t think…”

“I said leave us”, you said, about to lose your courage, your friends behind you giggled, weirdly giving you confidence to commit to your own command. With a grunt, the doctore nodded and left you, with only your friends, a couple of guards standing silently in the corners of the room behind veils, and him.

The Northman

He was deadly still, looking forwards, beyond you and your friends, beyond this room, his jaw was tense, you could tell that being here, summoned by you like this… for him was humiliating, but there he stood, tense like a bow. He said nothing, he didn’t move an inch.

“Is this what all northmen look like?”, Jeyne teased, “he is more beast than man”, you didn’t know if that was a real question, but your eyes never left his form, even if it wasn’t he didn’t answer.

“You can answer”, you encouraged

“All northmen do not look like me”, he said finally, the dark tone in his voice made the three of you gasp. “some make me look like an Andal”, Jeyne and Alyssane giggled at the prospect of finding even gruffer men than him.

“Oh he speaks the common tongue”, Alyssane was on fire, making you more uncomfortable. His eyes finally found yours, and you couldn’t take your own out of his.

“Yes he does”, you whispered, he indeed had a beautiful set of eyes. You then looked down at his chest, there was a red line, his injury from the battle in the Arena, it was still fresh, but you could tell it was healing properly

“I think he is handsome”, mumbled Alyssane, taking foot to walk towards him, you feared his reaction, as the guard standing in the corner of the room clenched his hand around the pommel of his sword.

But the gladiator still didn't move as Alysanne walked around him, teasing him with a single finger, touching his skin as she walked. His eyes were still on you.

“He stands as Mars, ready for war”, she whispered

“Alyssane seems taken by the man”, teased Jeyne in your ear

It was a curious thing, this what you were feeling, like somebody wanted to take something that belonged to you, but again, he wasn’t a thing, and you didn’t own him. Not technically at least, your father did.

“Their day starts early tomorrow”, you mumbled, making Alysane stop and look back at you with a teasing smile on her face. “his training I mean”, you said then

“Of course”, she said, you signaled the poor shaking guard and he grabbed Cregan, and took him from your side. You could swear you saw lingering eyes from him to you, but you must have imagined it.

“You should… enjoy him while you can”, said Jeyne finally, once you found yourselves alone again

“What do you mean?”, you asked her, her and Alyssane shared complicit looks

“Well, obviously, before you take an old bat as a husband, you should enjoy one of his gladiators, like that Northman for example”

“No…”, you said quickly, “I couldn’t possibly do something like that”

“Why not?”, asked Alyssane

“He is a man trained as a gladiator!”, you said, “he is a bit dirty…”, you tried, not quite convinced

“You have him bathed and oiled before you”, said Alyssane like it was no issue

“What if he doesn't want to?”, you tried then

“He is a slave, under your command…”, said Jeyne, “...and a man”

“What if he decided to kill me instead?”, you said then, “wrap his hands around my neck”

“I will not shame you is that is to your pleasure”, giggled Alyssane

“Aly!”, you whined, “the point is I really couldn’t, I mean, he is big and thick… and wild looking”

“Delicious then”, she offered

“Dangerous…”, you continued, although you felt your cheeks heated.

“Well if you don't have him, maybe I could!”, she teased

“What are you talking about?!”, you asked, scandalized, “when have you heard that proper Andal women lay with their gladiators?”

“Oh I’ve heard a ludus where such things happen quite frequently”, she teased

“Where?”, you asked

“In Alys Rivers’ ludus!”, your eyes opened wide in shock

“Really?”, you asked, “the bastard sister of the Lanista Larys Strong?”, you asked

“They say she offers her gladiators in… other manners”, she said, winking at you, “perhaps we should find ourselves at her door?”, she asked Jeyne

“Perhaps we shall”, she said back.

“Don’t be mean!”, you teased back, she laughed, as she was clearly jesting, you hoped.

“The hour is late”, said Jeyne with a soft smile, “I should start my journey back to my villa before my father starts a search party”, she said, raising from her chair

“Yes! me as well!”, said Alyssane, “I hope I can meet you tomorrow at the market?”, she asked you, you smiled and nodded profusely, as you accompanied them to the atrium, and therefore the door

As you watched them leave, nervousness started to take a hold on you, as did the warmth of the wine consumed to hide your embarrassment

It was not common to find yourself alone in your villa, your father had allowed it because you were in company of friends -who had influential fathers-, but now there you stood, no brothers, or sisters in law, father or friends to loom over you.

Your lower belly burned with necessity, with something you have never felt before, a longing, your body burned with anticipation and excitement. You didn’t know if it was the mulsum you had drank, or the power you just discovered, all the whole thing combined.

“Bring the Northman up here”, you said to the first guard you saw, he nodded and went to comply with your command. Your body was tingly because of the alcohol and you were excited to say the least, you didn’t even care that you had already sent the poor man down mere minutes ago, tonight, you had the power.

You shakily served yourself some more wine, back in the safety of the triclinium, the room where you ate, met with friends and family, where you were most comfortable. The man was standing right in front of you in minutes, the guards nodded at you and then left you as they had done before.

The gladiator stood there, now he seemed more surprised than before, as he found you alone, and he also seemed to be showing more of his emotions on his face.

“Northman”, you called, he turned to you quickly, anger in his eyes

“That’s not my name!”, it took you by surprise, you couldn’t deny it, the anger in his eyes, the sharpness in his tone.

“What is your name?”, it was of no consequence to you, his domina, and you should express so, that it did not matter anymore what his real name was, but, there you were, asking him nonetheless

“My parents named me Cregan”, he said, “of House Stark”, he said sharply, “as many leaders of my house before me”

There was so much more you wanted to ask, as his words truly shocked you, but as you gazed down the street you came to your senses, realizing that you should not allow such things. As your father tended to say, “who were you before this Ludus does not matter, the only thing in your mind should be sand, and the blood of your enemies”

“That is not what you are here for”, you finally find your voice, minimizing his anger at hand, turning his attention somewhere else.

“Remove your subligaria”, you whispered the command as if you did not wish it, and his sharp eyes were trained on you

“Look at you, a little domina in the making”, he teased, his tone much changed since he let you know of his true name. The very words made your cheeks heated, and you found yourself averting his gaze, his did not stray from your face as he released himself from the only item of clothing he was wearing. Your eyes followed the trail of his perfect skin, down his toned chest to his belly and…

The sight alone made you gasp.

This looked nothing like the ones of the male slaves in the market, if anything, those were… flacid and small, that sight brought you disgust and uneasiness, this one however, made your mouth dry and your skin tingle with desire. Desire that was pooling in your lower belly.

“You can touch me”, he said, he was being amused at your expense, only making you even more nervous, “I will not bite… much”, your hand was placed on his belly, muscles showing in beautiful shapes, you couldn't believe something could be hard but soft at the same time.

As your hand lowered, you found thick dark hairs there, making you shudder

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen”, he whispered, so close to your face your hand stopped right before getting to his base and you looked up at him.

“I’m the daughter of your dominus”, you said, as you believed he was forced to praise you.

“Do you think that’s got something to do with what I just said?”, he asked. Your hand stopped right as the base of his cock, you shuddered, his manhood was terribly hot.

You had never spoken to this man before today, you had barely glanced at him, and now, here he stood, under your command, looking at you with his sharp eyes, not missing a thing.

“I’m sorry, this was a bad idea…”, you whined retrieving your hands like his skin burned you. Cregan grunted when your soft hands left his cock, and that only made you burn more heatedly

“And you are going to leave me hanging like this?”, he asked, amused, mocking you, but inside he was suffering, he was enjoying it too much, it has been so long without a woman’s touch, “you can’t do that!”

“My apologies”, you said quickly, leaving him there standing

His doctore came to collect him, he retrieved his cloth from the ground, putting it in place

“A little tease that one”, he mumbled to the serious man

“Do not speak of domina in that way”, he growled as he pushed him

“There is not much domina in her”, he chuckled

“That’s it, five lashes in the courtyard”, he said

“I’d think better of it doctore”, he said defiantly, taking advantage of the fact that only the two of them were present in the narrow passage that separated the villa from the training grounds of the Slaves, “the Vulcanalia is merely a fortnight away from now, and they have high hopes for me”

“Keep walking boy”, Roose Bolton threatened.

He led him downstairs and then through the big gate that separated the villa from the ludus, where the gladiators lived and trained. A guard locked it tight after they passed through it

“I advise you to keep what happened to yourself”, he said gloomly, Cregan looked back at his doctore, but nodded.

He was directed straight to a long open room, where the gladiators ate lunch and dinner. He directed himself to the cook, who gave him a clay pot with a white mush in it, just like the day before, and the night before that.

“Here comes the whore!”, someone shouted at him, as his “brothers” started mocking him and winking at him.

It didn’t take much to guess what happened in the villa, there was only one reason you get called upon at such hours, and wearing so little

“Shut the hell up Ben”, he mumbled to his only friend he had in the Ludus, he haden’t say anything, but he was grinning at him like an idiot.

“Was it her?”, he asked him, “the daughter? the domina?”

“Yes”, he said, his friend pushed him playfully

“Did you fuck her?”, Cregan just looked at him angrily

“No”

“Was she not pleased with you then?”. he asked, frowning

“She is young, she doesn’t know what she wants”, he said simply, really not wanting to share what had happened upstairs.

It was humiliating, to say the least, to be treated like that. To be called upon to be gazed at by women who looked at him like a piece of meat, and then again to be touched.

Oh but he meant every word

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, since the first time he saw you, standing on that balcony, looking down at him. He did not blame you for your father, for the blood that ran through your veins, for the republic that created you. You had nothing to do with any of it.

Just by looking at you he could tell the kind soul that moved your body and warmed your heart

But you were the daughter of the man who purchased him, he wasn’t the one who enslaved him, but it was the man that had condemned him to the life of a gladiator.

“Well, maybe you can change her mind”, he teased

The only reason he was playing along with the Andals was to see how to escape them, so far, it had been easy to stay alive, he had been trained since he could pick up a sword on how to hunt, how to fight, how to survive, the North was not a place for the weak

“Father?”, you called out loud, the servants all dropped their eyes as you passed them by looking for him, but you couldn’t find him in his study, so you were on your way to his room at the other side of the villa

“What’s this ruckus?”, he asked, looking at you with sharp eyes as he went to encounter you in the atrium

“My good friend Alyssane has summoned me to go to the market at noon”, you knew he wouldn’t refuse you, not if Alyssane was involved, so he just sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You went back to his study, passing all the statues decorating the atrium. A normal Andal family would display in honor effigies of their most prominent family members, but yours displayed the most prominent gladiators and fighters that had come from this ludus.

“Here”, he passed you a small punch filled with gold coins

“Thank you father”, you said, offering a complacent smile

“Take one of my men with you”, he said then, “one of the gladiators”

“I hardly think that’s necessary, a servant and a guard would do just fine”, you said quickly, always as you were in the market you wanted to pass by as inconspicuous as you could.

“I insist, after the games, and before the Vulcanalia, I want the people to see them, to get excited, take the Northman”, you hid your face before your father could see the embarrassment in it.

One of the guards of the villa went to fulfill his request, and you sighed in exasperation.

You came back to your rooms to get ready to go out, and once you were, you returned to the entrance of the house, where Cregan himself was waiting for you with a severe look on his face, this was not to his liking, he was standing right by a guard, and by Roose Bolton.

The sight alone made you tremble

Had he told anybody what happened the day before? that you had touched him and presumed to have him?

Once his eyes found yours, he smirked.

“If something befalls the daughter of your dominus, fate worse than death awaits you boy”, he said in his ear

“Rest assured, that I will look after her with my life”, he said with a silly little smile.

You took a long sigh, and nodded to the guards and started walking out of the villa.

The villa stood on top of a hill, you had a pretty nice view upon the city of King’s Landing, but the rest of it wasn't quite impressive, the road was made of dirt and the houses around it were less impressive than the one your father had inherited from his father. It had been in your family since the very creation of the city.

You led a small comitive, all on foot, as you bluntly refused to be carried in a cot. You, your faithful slave Anya, Cregan himself, being flanked by two guards.

The center of the city started right at the foot of the hill, so it was a short minute walk.

You reach a street made of cobblestone, one adjacent to the one that led to the main street, as it was time before you had to meet Alyssane, you started to look the small stores

“Did your father hear of the way you handled me last night?”, Cregan whispered as Anya was tending elsewhere, you look back sharply at the Northman.

“No, and he shall not!”, you said sharply

“Oh well, I guess if he had, he’d have me castrated”, he whispered for your ears only, “and I guess you don’t want that as it seems you like what you saw”, he teased

“Stop it”, you said back. Your father was a practical man, and if he had heard of what occurred last night, you would be the one at fault, as everyone involved was just following your command. “My father will never know of this”, you sentenced

“You wanted to lay with me? A gladiator? a slave?”, he asked then

“I was mistaken”, you said, trying to gaze upon what a man was cooking on his store towards the street, it smelled delicious

“You are mistaken”, you heard him claim, his thick accent made your thighs, “for seeking bedding before connecting, to seek sex, instead of love, to want lust before you even began to feel the fondness”, he said sincerely.

“Thinking love is something within the grasp of someone in my position is foolish, and I learned not to be blinded and distracted by foolish things”, you whispered sadly. You nodded at the man and exchanged a couple of aerus for a plate of lamb soup. “I’ll be married before the year is over”, you whispered.

#misguidedgladiators #cregan stark #ancient rome au #house of the dragon au #hosue of the dragon #cregan #gladiator!cregan #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan x y/n

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prodagustd · 6 months ago

Text

surprise | myg

this is an extra chapter of the so it goes series.

—pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader

—rating: +18

—genre: established relationship, ex fwb, angst, fluff

—warnings/tags: implied smut, lots of angst, fluff, subtle talk about aborti0n, DON’T trust my poor knowledge in contraceptive methods and use condoms!! english is not my first language btw

—words: 7.6k

a/note: this is proof that if you ask me enough, I'll finish writing my wips!! it's been a long time but I finally get to post the surprise drabble I've been planning and it makes me sososo happy to come back to this couple 😭 I missed them so much I just hope you missed them as much as I did!! BTW I was planning to post this after two other drabbles, so if you read any additional information it's because this was intended to be posted after that, but i wanted to post this so badly😭 so here it is!! hehe anyway enjoy!!

A few years ago, when you and Yoongi were beginning to be a thing and you still lived with your best friend, Nayeon, while he lived alone in his big apartment, he picked up this habit of begging you to stay the night with him every time you visited, even though he knew you couldn’t. You used to say no, trying hard to ignore the way he kissed your neck and sneaked his hands under your blouse while explaining that, if you said yes, he was willing to wake up early and drive you to your first class the next day. You'd think that after the first or maybe even the second time he tried this, the effect would wear off, but you ended up agreeing every single time.

Back then everything was so new to him, he couldn’t remember the last time he liked someone that much, he didn’t know what was happening to him and why he wanted to spend every night with you, why he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Sure you were pretty, sure you were beautiful and funny, and your lips tasted like strawberries and you looked at him like one else ever did, maybe it had something to do with that, who knew? The only thing he knew was that he felt like a teenager everytime you kissed him, or every time you ran your fingers through his hair or every time you were naked under him, or on top of him, or anywhere close to him for that matter.

It took Yoongi a few hits, ten drunk nights and way too many days to realize that you were the only thing that he needed, that the world only made sense if you were by his side.

With time, Yoongi learned to kiss slowly, to make love slowly, to take things with ease; he learned that you were going nowhere, but there were still those moments where he felt he couldn’t get enough of you; like tonight, to be exact.

You were sure that in the last four years of dating Yoongi you had made it clear enough that you were a city girl, and you were certain your boyfriend knew that. You loved the noise and the chaos—the people bumping into each other on the streets, the busy days and nights. It wasn’t something you planned to give up anytime soon; this was the perfect time in your life to embrace the city's hustle. You’d have plenty of time for a quiet life when you got older.

Yoongi liked the city too—he enjoyed the view from his apartment window and the convenience of ordering food at any hour of the night. But he also loved road trips and sleeping in the middle of nowhere in a tent, bonfires, fishing and swimming in lakes. Yoongi had always been into camping, but instead of planning a trip with his good old friend Seokjin, who didn’t mind sleeping in a tent and loved fishing, he invited you—someone who hated bugs and couldn’t stand the idea of walking more than three minutes to find a bathroom.

You were still trying to decide whether not being able to say no to Yoongi was a problem, but it was his last free week before going back on tour. When he looked at you with starry eyes and asked you to go on a trip with him, which included spending the last two days sleeping in a tent, you couldn’t say no.

It was only two days, you were sure you could endure not sleeping in a proper bed for that long if that made him happy, you made the effort of not complaining just for tonight, after all you only had tickets to go visit him on tour in exactly five weeks, you were going to miss him.

It was easy not to complain when Yoongi’s plans for your last night together were exclusively romantic; he cooked for you, built a campfire and spent the rest of the night stargazing until it was too cold to be outside, and when you were inside the tent he made sure to have hot water bags under the blankets, but they were no use when he was determined to get you naked.

Did you mention that it was still winter?

Now you were trapped in a tent with him, straddling him as he kissed you deeply and gripped your thighs, begging you to ride him against your lips. That was when you started to complain.

You felt your whole body shivering when Yoongi’s warm hands pulled your t-shirt over your head, leaving you almost naked. You hugged your torso, attempting to cover your breasts as you sat straight on top of your boyfriend, who was comfortably laying on the sleeping bag, fully clothed.

“Yoongi, I’m cold.” You whined.

“C’mon, it’s going to wear off” He tried to convince you, rubbing his palms over your shoulders to keep you warm. You shook your head, laying your head on his still clothed chest as he covered your bare back with the blanket. It was easy for him to say that when he was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt.

You knew that Yoongi was already missing you. He was fully aware that after tonight, he wouldn’t see you for a whole month and he wanted to make it last as long as he could, to hold you and kiss you as much as you let him. He had gotten too used to you—used to sleeping and waking up next to you, having you all to himself—but it became a problem every time he had to leave for work, it was impossible not to miss you. You still had texts, calls and FaceTime, but he was also taking into account time difference, work, and the fact that all of that wasn’t the real thing. And if you were honest, you were already missing him too.

“What if I catch a cold?” You mumbled over his shirt.

Yoongi kissed the top of your head, running his hands down your bare back and sending chills to your spine. How was he able to get you almost naked but you didn’t even get the chance to take off his t-shirt? “It’s not that cold.” He said, not willing to give up.

You raised your head to look at him, frowning “Says the person who’s still fully clothed.”

He huffed, flipping you over to leave you under him. Suddenly, warmth rushed over you as you felt his body hovering over your frame. He was quick to take off his own t-shirt, trying to make you happy, but he quickly realized that maybe you were right, it was fucking cold, but he wasn’t going to back down.

“Happy now?”

“No, it’s freezing out there!” You kept complaining “Why do we have to do it without clothes? I don’t mind clothes, I actually think that doing it while being dressed is quite hot.”

You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. Even though you were in fact turned on from the kissing and grinding session you had a few moments ago, you still were thinking about the logistics of fucking inside the tent.

Yoongi scoffed, amused. “And I actually think that you being naked is quite hot, too.” He said, sneaking his face in the crook of your neck to trail down little kisses, nibbling the skin softly. “C’mon, baby. I won’t see you for weeks, let me make love to you.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “You had been using that excuse the whole trip.” And you’ve fallen for it every time. His plans for this trip were very simple: fishing, camping and fucking you on every opportunity he had. It was not like you were against it, it has been a long time since you and him had time only for the two of you.

“But isn’t it true?” He gazed up, looking at you with his soft eyes, his hair falling like a curtain on his face. “I’m gonna miss you.”

You took a second to observe the tenderness of his features, to take in the softness of his voice, and for a moment there you knew why it was so hard to say no to him, you just didn’t want to say no.

You closed your eyes, scrunching your nose. “We are gonna make such a mess.” You whined, but he just chuckled, knowing he won.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise.” He said with a soft voice, reaching for your lips as he roamed his hands towards your chest. You didn’t exactly know how he was going to “take care of it”, but his hands were gentle, the kiss was slow and when he opened his mouth to let his tongue slip past your lips, you were too into it to keep protesting about it.

As you sat on the cold bathroom floor of the home you shared with Yoongi, you tried to remind yourself of two basic things that you hoped would stop the sinking feeling in your chest. First, three weeks without Yoongi never killed anyone, this was something you knew from experience, Yoongi’s job demanded him to travel all the time, you were used to it, or at least you were supposed to be. Second, you were an independent woman (right?). You have been an independent woman since you were eighteen when you moved to Seoul alone, since you started a new life in a new city on your own. You woke up at six am everyday, worked hard your whole shift, paid the bills every month and managed to keep your house in order every day of the week. Sure, you loved Yoongi, and he loved you, and you could never imagine a life without him, but you didn’t need him, you wanted him. He wasn’t an extension of you, you were your own person, but why did you feel like the world was about to end right now if he was not there?

Crying your heart out like a five year old kid, you remembered the only time you had to take a pregnancy test, and how it looked nothing like this.

Four years ago when you and Yoongi still didn’t kiss in front of your friends, when he still thought twice before holding your hand in public but still had the nerve of sneaking in your bed. That seemed like a hundred years ago, a universe away, but no, it was not too long ago when you were stubborn and kind of irresponsible for agreeing with him as he kissed your neck and ran his hands down your thighs while asking you if it was okay for him to “pull out” that night, since both of you completely forgot about condoms. You winced at the memory, but in your defense, you were too far gone to say no, take a cold shower and kiss him goodnight. You agreed only for that night, but three weeks later you were three days late and losing your mind, the only logical thing to do was to take a pregnancy test that, of course, came negative, but to this day you couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that you felt in your stomach those minutes before the negative sign appeared, and you couldn’t forget how pale Yoongi’s face turned when you told him about it.

And now you were there, one hand covering your face while the other held a pregnancy test—only this time, it was positive.

The one on your hand wasn’t the only one, no. There were two other positive tests laying on the floor in front of you, and even if you wanted to not trust the results, they couldn’t be all wrong, right? The plus sign was very clear in each one of them and you were five days late. The problem was that you were on the pill, you had been on the pill for the last couple years and this never happened to you, this wasn’t something normal or a simple mistake.

You breathed out, trying not to panic. You got up on your bare feet to look at yourself in the mirror. You were a mess, that was not a surprise at all, your face was all swollen for the amount of time you have been crying and your hair was a big nest above your head. You washed your face, attempting to remain calm and evaluating your options. You glanced at your phone resting on the sink, and an overwhelming urge to call your mother surged within you, but as you imagined how the conversation would go, you quickly realized it wouldn’t be a good idea.

Your mother was not nosy, but she could be a little dense, a bit complicated, and it was not what you needed right now. You were sure that calling her while having a mental breakdown was going to drive her crazy, and consequently, drive you crazy too. She would want to know every single detail, date, place and hour to understand the situation better, and you would have to explain something you didn’t even understand yet. You could imagine the conversation, she would try to explain every contraceptive method like you were a teenager and ask why you didn’t use a condom, because you knew she would ask, and you didn’t want to explain to her how you went on vacation with your boyfriend to have a bunch of condomless sex, the thought alone made you want to vomit.

Calling your mother was not an option, not only because talking to her on the phone was complicated enough, but because she was in a different city, which brought you to discard calling Nayeon too, who was on vacation with her boyfriend (yes, boyfriend, that sounded ridiculous to you, too.)

The last option was something you couldn't even fathom doing unless you were desperate, but you know what they say, desperate times call desperate measures, so you blew your nose, brushed your hair and called the only person in this city who would come running without asking any questions, Jungkook.

Breaking the news to the person in front of you wasn’t easy, especially when the words you needed to say were as unreal as they sounded. You didn’t look much better, you spent the next thirty minutes that Jungkook took to arrive crying, as Holly, the brown fluffy dog, looked at you like you just went mad, the worst thing was that you weren’t far from it. It was difficult to keep it together when your mind refused to look at the bright side of things, when you couldn’t call your mom and Yoongi was in another country, but when Jungkook rang your bell and entered through the door, you tried your best to smile at him and act like you weren’t in the middle of a mental breakdown.

Your act wasn’t convincing, your friend looked at you like you were about to tell him that you killed someone and you needed help to hide the body.

You would have never recur to a man other than Yoongi for this kind of situation, but you decided to trust your ten years of friendship with the man in front of you and hope that he could be of any help.

“You are what?” Said Jungkook, standing in the middle of the living room with his eyes wide open, trying to understand the meaning of your words.

There, in your pajamas and your hands on your hips, you closed your eyes shut, sighing. “Jungkook…” You said through gritted teeth.

“I’m serious.” He said, letting his backpack drop to the floor. “I crossed half the city to get here, are you not kidding me right now?”

“I’m serious, too!” You whined “I’m not kidding, I don’t know what to do.”

He slowly approached you, walking towards the couch to take a seat. He suddenly felt his blood pressure dropping, his stomach sinking and his mouth dry as if he was the one developing a human organism inside his body. “Are you sure?” He murmured. “Are you not having one of those crises you had when you were a teenager? I remember that time in college when you freaked out when you thought you were pregnant because some guy-”

“Jungkook, I’m sure.” You interrupted him, already knowing the whole story, but this time it was not just you overreacting. “My period is late and I took three tests, all positive.”

He gulped, letting the room fall silent for a few seconds as both of you contemplated what that meant. You knew he was trying his best not to freak out, so you were grateful for his reaction, at least he didn’t faint like you expected him to do, but he was still white as a sheet, trying to find a solution in his head as though you had told him he was the one who was going to be a father.

“What are we gonna do?” He said under his breath.

“What am I gonna do?” You corrected him, sitting next to him “You are supposed to help me.”

Jungkook took one hard look at you, looking terrified. “How?”

“God, I shouldn’t have called you.” You rolled your eyes.

“No, I mean, what do you want to do?” He said. “Did you tell Yoongi?”

“Of course not.” You replied, feeling your eyes getting teary, but still trying to hold back.

“Do you want to… tell him?” He continued to ask.

You sniffed “I mean, I don’t know how.” You pouted “I’m seeing him in two weeks, I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

He threw himself back against the couch, sinking in the cushions. It was like Jungkook’s life flashed before his eyes, how come he was discussing this with you right now? He still felt like you were kids, there was no way you were pregnant right now. “How did this happen?” He murmured to himself, looking at the blank wall in front of him.

“Is it necessary for me to explain it?” You cried, snuggling closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Did you not use condoms?” He scolded you like he was your mother.

You shifted your weight uneasily, eyes darting down to your socks. “We don’t… use condoms.” You cleared your throat, the words coming out hushed and hesitant. “I’m on the pill, I don’t know what happened.”

On second thought, that wasn’t something Jungkook wanted to know. It was like finding out how his parents had sex, he squirmed at the thought, shifting in his place. “Can you not call your doctor?” He suggested, his voice laced with uncertainty.

You paused, considering it. It was probably the most logical thing Jungkook could say, but you weren’t sure if your doctor could do anything about it.

“Even if I call her and tell her what's going on, it’s not like I can get a refund.” You huffed, a dry smile tugging at your lips.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well…” he began, dragging the word out. “In some way, you could get a refund.” You blinked at him, opening your eyes wide in surprise. “I mean only if you want to!”

You were so nervous you wanted to laugh. It wasn’t like the thought didn’t cross your mind for a moment, but only when you tried to evaluate your options; if you were being honest, you couldn’t see yourself getting rid of the baby—or whatever organism had been living rent-free in your body for the past three weeks. Jungkook looked terrified that you might explode at him, especially when it seemed like you were on the verge of tears, but his question made you think, if you didn’t want to get rid of it, what was that you wanted to do?

You sank your shoulders, feeling completely lost. “That’s the problem.” You murmured “I don’t know if I want a refund.”

Jungkook stood still for a moment, his eyes softening as he watched you. His thoughts swirled, trying to grasp the weight of your words.

"Would Yoongi want a refund?" He asked, his tone lighter than before, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. Despite the attempt at humor, his eyes betrayed the concern he was masking with the joke.

A shaky exhale left your lips, the weight of uncertainty pulling you down. “I don’t know…” Was the only thing you could say.

“But do you know if Yoongi wanted… kids?” He said as if that was a forbidden word. “I mean, do you want them?”

It wasn’t like you didn’t know what Yoongi wanted. You sighed, suddenly remembering all those times when the idea of a family came up in conversations, between drunken thoughts, before falling asleep, at dinner with his parents and on the ride home when he apologized on his mother’s behalf when she asked when you were going to give her grandchildren. His soft eyes, his hand on your tight and the view of the future laying in front of you like a promise. The thought warmed your heart for a moment, but the truth was that there was a difference between talking about it and actually having kids.

“We’ve talked about it…” You admitted. “But we’ve never planned it, let alone now that he’s on tour.”

Jungkook hummed, still thinking.

“But you both agreed to have kids at some point.” He affirmed, and you just nodded.

It was in that moment where you realized you were crying again, tears slowly falling down your cheeks as you stood in silence, contemplating the overwhelming weight of the situation.

“Fuck, don’t cry.” Jungkook said, rushing to wrap his arms around you, he enveloped you in a tight hug. As soon as you buried your face into his chest, something inside you gave away. You began sobbing against his hoodie, the tears flowed freely and uncontrollable, unable to hold yourself back. “C’mon, it’s okay, you’re okay. Nothing bad’s gonna happen.” His voice was soft but firm, holding you tightly. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb gently wiping away a tear from your cheek, his gaze filled with nothing but concern. “You don’t need to have it all figured out right now. Let’s go step by step, okay?”

You nodded, feeling like a kid lost in the mall. “Okay, if you want to see him as soon as possible, you have to change your flight first.” He said, but you shook your head, trying not to panic.

“He’s going to ask why.” You said, your voice hoarse “What am I going to tell him?”

He kept silent, his eyes fixed on a distant point as he was trying to come up with a solution.

“Let’s not tell him.” He proposed.

“What do you mean let’s not tell him?”

“I’m leaving for tour next weekend, you should come with me and not tell him.” He kept going “Say that you missed him and you wanted to surprise him or some shit like that, and when you get him alone you talk to him about this.”

Now you were reminded that Jungkook had to leave to join Yoongi on tour in just a few days, you completely forgot about that. It was not like you couldn’t get on an airplane alone, but if your friend was going to be there you were sure it would make things easier.

You couldn’t believe it. After so many years you were there, sad and upset and still with the same idiot as a friend, willing to follow whatever plan he was going to make for you. You didn’t know if the plan actually sounded good or you were losing your mind for listening to Jungkook.

“Jungkook, Yoongi texts me all the time, he facetimes me everyday. It’s impossible to travel to another country without him noticing.”

“It’s not impossible, I’m gonna help you.” He insisted “If he texts you, you say you’re at home, if he wants to facetime you, you say you’re busy, turn off your location, it shouldn't be difficult.”

“It is difficult, what if he realizes I turned off my location?” You groaned, running your finger through your hair exasperatedly.

“You say it stopped working or something! C’mon, I thought you were smarter than me.”

You threw yourself back against the couch, crossing your arms on your chest, it was almost comical that you were considering the idea. Your friend could sense the hesitation in every move you made, he could only hope that you agreed because his mind couldn’t come up with another idea if his life depended on it.

“Jungkook, if he suspects anything…” You raised a finger, digging it on his chest.

“He won’t suspect a thing,” He affirmed confidently. “When have any of my plans ever gone wrong? Never. Trust me, by the time you get back home, you’ll have already decided to name your baby after me.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your laugh and punching him in the arm playfully. The tension was still there, and you still felt an inexplicable ache in your chest that wasn’t going away anytime soon, but being there with Jungkook made you feel that this wasn’t the end of the world, nor of your life, but the beginning of it.

Jungkook's plan wasn’t the master plan he had been bragging about the whole airplane ride, but it worked. A few days later, after a few calls and arrangements to change your flight, after another three mental breakdowns and several crying sessions in the shower, you had somehow arrived in Berlin without Yoongi suspecting a thing. You had managed to dodge facetime calls and weird questions, maybe Yoongi missed you so much that he didn’t have time to question why you couldn’t wait two more weeks to see him when you arrived at the hotel and hugged in the hall, because, if he were honest, he couldn’t wait two more weeks to see you either.

Yoongi was happy with the surprise, you went to see his show that night and after arriving to his hotel room he made love to you like he hadn’t seen you in a year, kissing your neck, grabbing your waist, murmuring things in your ear, saying how much he loved you, how much he missed you. For a moment it was like nothing changed, the two of you sharing what happened these last three weeks tangled between sheets, laughing between kisses as you ignored why you were there in the first place.

“You can’t keep spending time away from me.” He said, hovering over you as he left a small kiss on your lips. “I’ll keep you in my pocket if it’s necessary.”

You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t keep this a secret for much longer, but for tonight, you’ll let it slide.

You didn’t know when you were returning home, but you promised yourself that before leaving for the next city, you would have to break the news to Yoongi, which was becoming more difficult by the second, because if you were good at something, that was procrastinating. It was absurd, a few days ago you were crying because all you wanted to do was to have your boyfriend by your side and now you couldn’t even look him in the eye without feeling like you were about to throw up, and your mind wasn’t helping at all. All those doubts invaded your head, attempting to drive you crazy, making you believe you were not ready to tell him yet.

Three days later, when you finished the last show in Berlin, Jungkook gave you a knowing look as you were leaving the arena holding Yoongi’s hand. He knew that you haven’t said a thing to Yoongi yet, he was all over you like he was your mother, asking you if you were okay, if you needed anything, when you were going to tell Yoongi, it almost made you regret telling him, but you knew he was right.

A night was all you needed, just one night to gather your thoughts and practice what you were going to say. You couldn’t keep declining glasses of wine forever, you could only hope no one noticed how weird you were acting, how sensitive you were since you stepped foot out the plane. Time was running out; you knew that when Yoongi invited you to an after-party before the whole crew left Berlin. Instead of telling him the truth, you simply said you weren’t in the mood to go, hoping that your time alone would help to gather enough courage to confess.

You weren’t trying to keep Yoongi with you, you told him a million times that he should go without you and that there was no problem with it. You hid under the blanket and hugged your body, watching him change his shirt into a black tee. He ran his finger through his hair in an attempt to tame it, looking at himself into the mirror and stealing a glance towards your reflection. He knew you too well not to notice the sad expression on your face as you scrolled through your phone, searching for a Disney movie to watch while he was out. He turned around, approaching the bed and kneeling beside you to catch your eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” He asked once again.

“Yeah, I just need one night.” You said, which was true. You needed a few more moments to finish fighting with your own thoughts.

“But are you okay?” He continued to ask, cupping your jaw in his palm.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” The words came out of your mouth with more emotion than you intended to, he couldn’t ignore it.

“I don’t know… You look like you want me to stay.”

There was a beat of silence in the room. The sweetness of his voice broke your heart into a million pieces. You couldn’t say yes and make him stay just because you were feeling down and you really had no problem with him leaving, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no either. You were full of contradictions, wanting to be alone but wanting to be with him at the same time, something in your chest pulled, wanting him close.

“What makes you think that?” You murmured, fighting the urge to cry. God, you were too sensitive.

“Mmm… The Disney movie kinda gives you away.”

You huffled, playing with the fingers of his hands without looking at him. “I don’t want to ruin your fun… You should go, I mean it.”

He scoffed “You won’t, there’s going to be a bunch of parties until the tour ends, this one is nothing.”

“They’ll miss you…”

“You’ll miss me, too.”

“But do you want to stay, though?” You asked him a whisper.

“Of course I want to… But you have to let me choose the movie.” He warned, automatically making you giggle.

Letting Yoongi choose the movie was the worst decision you have made in the last week so far, but you felt grateful he couldn’t see you as he hugged your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, because as the ending of Inside Out approached, you were sure you were about to cry.

When you arrived at the airport you promised yourself not to cry anymore, not in front of Yoongi at least, but your body was full of emotions you didn’t even know you could feel. It was certain that you’ve always been a sensitive person, you cried at the drop of a hat, Yoongi was familiar with that, but now it was impossible to stop it.

You’d stopped paying attention to the screen entirely; one by one, your darkest thoughts crept in, pressing heavily on your chest. The feelings you’d tried so hard to bury rose up, churning uneasily in your stomach, and when you least expected it, tears began to fall down your cheeks.

A sob escaped from your lips at the same time the main character began to cry, making your boyfriend shift in his place.

“Are you crying?” Yoongi suddenly asked, softly grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. He looked at your face, at first amused, thinking you were crying because of the movie. But his expression softened when he saw the sadness in your eyes and the damp lashes heavy with tears. You covered your face, unable to hold back, and the sobs came harder, each one swallowing the words you couldn’t say. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He reached for your arms, attempting to pull them away from your face, but you turned away, burying your face in the pillow.

“Nothing,” You lied, desperate to avoid this conversation again. “I’m just… emotional, I don’t know.” Your voice cracked, hoarse, as the emotions you were trying to hide slipped through.

Yoongi was confused, but mostly worried. You had been weird since the day you arrived, he would be a fool not to notice.

He turned the light of the lamp on the nightstand, illuminating the room with a soft orange light and turned the tv off.

“Hey, look at me.” He softly said, brushing your hair with his fingers, it only made you want to cry harder. “I know something’s up, I’m not a dummy.”

You turned to him, hitting him with the most heartbreaking sight he could witness, your face soaked in tears, nose and eyes red as you pouted at him. What was so wrong to make you cry like that?

“What do you know?” Was the only thing you could say, daring to be upset at him when he hadn't done anything wrong.

He frowned at your tone. “Well, I know that you suddenly came here two weeks earlier just because. You are weird, you almost don’t eat, your suitcase is almost untouched like you’re going to leave anytime soon, you look… sad? I don’t know, baby, you tell me.”

You kept silent for a second, wiping the tears with the sleeve of your t-shirt. Uncomfortable, you sat in the bed, taking a deep breath as your mind completely blanked. You didn’t realize yet, but there was no way to get out of this one.

Contrary to popular belief, your boyfriend was kind of a dummy. You confirmed it when he decided to say the following words.

“Is it because of Lily?” He said, making you dart your eyes at him. “You don’t like her being here?

You couldn’t blame Yoongi for not understanding why you were crying, but the suggestion that you were jealous of one of his coworkers made you want to punch him. Lily was one of the new producers at Yoongi’s label, and a few months ago, Yoongi had noticed that you were starting to feel uneasy about the amount of time she was spending with him, which led him to realize that you were beginning to feel unexpectedly jealous of her. Yes, that was a whole deal back then, but it was water under the bridge now; the fact that she was touring with him and the boys didn’t faze you. The idea that he thought you were crying because of her was ridiculous.

“Yoongi, are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not.” He defended himself. “The last time I saw you we were fine, but now you’re here crying and I don’t have a clue what I did wrong.”

Suddenly, you felt your heart sink. He hadn’t done anything wrong; it was you who was an emotional wreck, struggling to keep your feelings in check. A wave of guilt washed over you for the mess you’d just created, convinced there must have been ways to prevent all this conflict. But now, all you could do was sit there, tangled in the aftermath of your own emotions.

You sighed, defeated. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You said “And it’s not about Lily, I couldn’t care less about that… It’s just that- … Yoongi…”

“Baby…” He said in the same tone as you, “What is it?”

As Yoongi’s gentle question hung in the air, you felt a knot tighten in your chest. The truth sat heavy on your tongue, you glanced away, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, buying time as your thoughts spiraled. “Yoongi, my period is late.” You confessed, observing Yoongi’s eyes go wide, his brows lifting in surprise as he tried to understand what he just heard. “It’s been a week now, I don’t know what happened. I tried to wait, but I had to take a test”

“A test?” he asked, voice low, surprise flickering in his eyes.

“A pregnancy test, Yoongi.” You said, trying not to roll your eyes. “I took three damn tests.”

“And what-... what happened?” He asked, his voice unsteady, eyes fixed on yours.

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thick with unspoken fears and questions. A quiet stillness settled between you both, there was a weight to the silence, stretching out the seconds as you waited for whatever words would come next.

“I mean, guess what happened,” you whispered. Before you could finish the sentence, you got up and reached for the zipper on your suitcase pocket. Your hand closed around the large object, and you felt his eyes on the back of your neck, following you as you moved around the hotel room. Returning to the bed, you sat down and handed him the pregnancy test.

Yoongi didn’t know anything about pregnancy tests—he’d never needed to. He’d always been careful, using protection with every girl he’d been with, including you, until things had started to get serious. So no, he wasn’t familiar with the variety of pregnancy tests out there. But now, here he was, staring at a white stick with a tiny screen, showing a clear positive sign, which could only mean one thing.

Yoongi’s hands trembled slightly as he held the pregnancy test, his gaze locked onto the tiny screen, staring at it for a moment, speechless. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud enough that he thought you might hear it. Now everything made sense, how you said you were nauseous in the morning, each time you refused to drink wine, how you looked like you were about to cry when you saw a stroller with twins this afternoon at the park. How could he not notice?

You pressed your lips together, feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up once more. A small, shaky hiccup escaped your lips, breaking the silence and snapping him out of his daze. “No, no, no,” He murmured urgently, setting the test aside and pulling you close, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist as you buried your face in your hands, trying to hold back the tears. “Hey, there’s no reason to cry,” He whispered, gently guiding your face up, his fingers lifting your chin as he coaxed your hands away. “C’mon, look at me.” His voice was soft, reassuring, his gaze full of warmth and understanding.

“I don’t know how it happened.” You blurted out, your voice shaking with uncertainty.

“That doesn’t matter now, why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, you could tell he was trying to remain calm by the soft tone of his voice, but his face had gone as white as paper, like he’d just seen a ghost.

“I arranged the flight to see you as soon as possible, but... I was scared. I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t,” you admitted, your words barely a whisper.

“Baby, you don’t have to be scared, okay? You can tell me anything.” He assured you, his hand gently squeezing yours. But the uneasy feeling in your stomach refused to go away.

“I know, but… we haven’t planned for this,” you murmured, glancing down. “It just… came out of nowhere.”

“Well, it didn’t exactly come out of nowhere. These things can happen,” he said gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips. You groaned, burying your face in his chest.

“But it wasn’t supposed to happen,” you whined, your voice muffled against him. “I didn’t expect this at all. I was drowning in work when I found out. I’m stressed, I’m lost, I don’t know what to do… and I miss my mom.” The words tumbled out in a frantic ramble, and you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice the soft laugh he let slip.

“You miss your mom?” he asked softly, careful not to upset you further.

“Yes!” you cried, voice cracking. “I feel like a kid lost in the supermarket.”

He shook his head gently and brushed away your tears with his thumbs, pulling you closer. “Baby…” he began, his tone soothing.

“Yoongi…” you whispered, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His expression was still worried, but the warmth in his eyes was reassuring.

“You’re right, we didn’t plan this. But we’ve talked about it before, and you have options. Whatever you choose, I’ll be right here beside you, no matter what. You know that, don’t you?” He searched your eyes for confirmation, and you nodded, feeling the ache in your chest begin to ease.

As his words sank in, a new wave of emotions stirred inside you. The weight of worry and loneliness began to ease, replaced by a warmth that softened the ache in your chest.

“But… what do you think?” you asked softly. You knew that whatever you decided would ultimately be your choice only, but you needed to know what was going on in his mind.

He sighed, a hint of hesitation in his expression. “I mean… we’re not sixteen, baby. We’re adults, we’re about to buy a house together, and we love each other.”

“Well, those are just facts,” you replied, searching his face. “What I mean is… do you want this, now?”

It was hard for Yoongi to believe you were really asking this. There you were, sitting on his lap with swollen eyes and a red nose from crying, asking him if he wanted to start a family with you—as if that hadn’t been his dream all along. Of course he felt like the life he had been living was going to completely change from now on. It was terrifying, but he couldn’t help but feel excited at the same time.

“I've always wanted it, are you serious?” He laughed, the sound light but filled with disbelief. “And I only want it with you, haven’t I made it clear enough?”

Those were the main differences between the two of you: while he was calm, always taking a moment to think before acting, you were emotional and, more often than not, let your feelings take control of your actions. It was only in that moment that you realized how irrational you’d been. There wasn’t a world where Yoongi didn’t want this, and there certainly wasn’t a world where you didn’t want it either.

“I want it, too,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought back tears.

“Then why are you crying, huh?” he asked gently, squeezing your face in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Because...” you said, struggling to catch your breath. “Maybe you didn’t think it was the right time... You’re on tour right now.”

He frowned, his expression softening with concern. “I won’t be on tour forever...”

“I know, but... we’re not married. What would your parents think?”

He let out a laugh, clearly unable to believe that was a real concern of yours. “You’re not seriously thinking about my parents right now, are you?”

“How could I not?” you said, raising your eyebrows. “What if they force us to marry? God, I don’t want to be one of those couples who only marry because the girl is suddenly pregnant!”

He laughed even harder, shaking his head. “Oh my god, baby, no one’s forcing us to do anything!” He grinned, clearly finding your worry amusing. “If we ever get married, it won’t be because anyone pressured me. Trust me.” He paused, happy to see that the worried expression abandoned your face. “Besides, my parents love you, you have no idea how happy they’ll be once they know. Married or not.”

“Yoongi, it can’t be that simple.”

“But it is.”

You sighed, feeling like all the mess you’d made was for nothing—and thank God it was. You’d been so caught up in your own despair that you hadn’t realized everything in your life was falling into place for this to happen. Yoongi was right. You were about to move into a bigger home, you had your job, Yoongi had his, and you loved each other. You've always wanted it, this was the perfect moment for this to happen. Why had you been so worried?

“You’re right, it is.” You finally admitted, letting your body rest against him.

Yoongi laughed, gently grabbing you by your hips and laying you on the bed, kissing you softly. “You don’t have to worry, baby, not with me.”

“I know.” You breathed out, feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. “But I am-… I’m so scared. How am I gonna have a baby? It sounds crazy.”

“Of course it does, it is.” He said “I’m terrified, too, but we’re together, right? Nothing bad can happen if we have each other.”

You nodded, feeling your chest unclench. “I guess you're right,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I just... needed to hear you say it.”

Yoongi smiled, leaning down to steal another kiss from you, this time deeper, longer. “I love you, baby, don’t you know that?”

You brushed your nose against his, nodding. “I love you, too, bubba.”

“C’mon, baby, stop crying.” He said, making you laugh.

#fic: so it goes #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x oc #yoongi fic recs #yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #bts masterpost #bts fic rec #yoongi bts #bts one shot

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chubby-p1nk · 6 months ago

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I read two fics some time ago with Tim dancing along with Cass, and omg, it changed me- Because... JUST THINK ABOUT IT-

Tim being a rich kid, with really strict parents but who are flexible enough so that they don't have prejudices regarding very conventional gender roles. And thanks to this, Tim is put in classical ballet classes long enough to be able to wear pointe shoes.

Tim likes it to a certain extent, as the exercises, physical conditioning and muscle elongation help him to be able to follow the bat and bird duo around Gotham. Over time he stops attending classes either due to his parents' influence to focus on some other activity, or because he preferred that time to coordinate patrol routes and get more photos.

By the time he starts being Robin, he no longer attends ballet classes. The training left a small mark on the way he moves as Robin, but nothing too noticeable. He finds it easy to jump really high and is able to land silently and smoothly. He doesn't get dizzy easily thanks to the pirouettes and fouettes his teacher made him practice daily.

Also, training with Dick is easier than when he trains with Bruce, since with Dick there are really similar exercises thanks to the older boy's training in the circus as an acrobat. The elasticity is not comparable between the two, but Tim has enough so that some of Dick's exercises are not so impossible for him.

Cut out when Cass arrives and Tim notices that she likes ballet, and even more surprisingly, she dances ballet! It is thanks to this that Tim manages to find a common point between the two to be able to start a friendship, with Cass being really excited to know that Tim also knew ballet!

They both connect thanks to ballet, Tim, taking advantage of the fact that they were both quite similar in height and complexion (even in face, which still leaves him wondering sometimes if they weren't secret twins?) shares with her his leotards and shoes, at least the training ones. Because although Cass can stand on pointe with amazing ease, Tim prefers to help her go over the basic training to get on pointe. Because literally, those things break feet, and he doesn't want to see his adopted sister go through that (We're talking about Cass, though.)

By the time they've been through about two months of helping Cass go over the basics, and remembering moves she remembered seeing from when she lived in the basement of that Ballet school, she can get up on pointe, and Tim hands her some cute yellow pointe shoes that he got years ago, when Robin colors still drove him crazy. So when Cass wears them, they're flexible and soft, not hard and uncomfortable like the ballet slippers one recently bought.

And Tim, he has his cream pointe shoes to wear, also used and flexible, comfortable like an old toy you haven't used in a while and despite everything, you still know how to play with it.

They both select certain days to practice and dance different pieces of music, Tim occasionally teaching her the classical pieces she doesn't know, or showing her how to dance as a couple. Although for this he takes off his pointe shoes and goes back to his leather slippers.

They keep up this routine even when Damian arrives, and so far the only one who knows what they're doing is Alfred, basically because he's the one who usually does their laundry and tidies up the room they use to dance. Making sure the floor isn't too slippery and the furniture is pushed up against the walls to make room. Every now and then, they both invite him to watch a specific dance they've practiced, like a snippet from Swan Lake, The Nutcracker, or The Rite of Spring.

As more time passes, Cass takes more liberties in the dance and fuses ballet with something more contemporary, while Tim sticks to classical ballet. They keep dancing, but now each one gives a personal touch to each pirouette, pas couru, and movement. They make a temporary bar with pvp pipes, which despite everything, works wonders for them.

Maybe Bruce is the first one to find them, after a particularly tiring day in which he just wants to be alone for a few moments and decides to go to the rooms less used, he hears a classical melody from one of the rooms that supposedly, should be empty. And when he goes to see where the music was coming from and why, he finds his two children playing a fragment of Carmen (Gipsy friends duet) and is more than surprised by the ability not only of Cass, but of Tim! Bruce had no idea that Tim could dance ballet, did he learn it now from Cass? Or is it something he already knew?

Whatever the case, what surprises him the most is the amazing coordination of the two, they seem to be the reflection of each other. And with regret Bruce admits inwardly that if it weren't for the distinction of the clothes and the hairstyle, he would swear that he was seeing double.

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peachygelic · 18 days ago

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Mine.

Please read part 1 if you haven’t already.

TW: Manipulation, Unhealthy relationship dynamics, stalking.

Tags: 18+, x fem!reader, experienced!reader, virginstalker!suguru, slow build up, sloppy kisses, brief voyeurism, dick piercings, switch(ish) Suguru, outercourse, oral (f! receiving), fingering, missionary, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, mutual overstimulation.

Word count: 7400+ (I know…)

A/N: This is not a literary masterpiece, it’s an excuse to write smut. Read it for what it is.

Check out my best friend and beta reader @satcrc ❤️ If it weren’t for her, this would’ve stayed in my drafts a lot longer

Suguru felt a gentle touch of his arm and looked down at you as you gestured for him to follow you.

“This way.” You walked ahead and he followed right behind you. The oversized shirt you wore attempted to hide your curves but he could make out faint outlines as your hips swayed. His eyes tracked down and he watched your legs again as you walked. They seemed to go on forever.

You took him to the living room and told him to take a seat then you went to the kitchen that was opposite it. He practically ogled you as you moved around in it, not that you noticed though.

“I just realised that I didn't ask for your name.”

You spoke over the whirring of your coffee machine while he looked around the room. His eyes ate up every detail, from the suede peach-coloured couch he sat in, to the flatscreen TV on the wall then the pictures of you on the shelves. He caught sight of a baby picture and his lips tipped up when he saw your gummy smile. In another, you were surrounded by a group of girls, still missing teeth as you all beamed at the camera and threw up peace signs. Then there were more recent ones, a high school graduation photo, what he assumed was a family photo of you being hugged by an older couple who looked just like you and lastly, a picture that looked like it was taken a year or two ago of you holding a bouquet and wearing the unholiest dress he had ever seen.

His hand twitched as he fought the urge to take his phone out and take pictures too. He told himself that if things went according to plan, he would be well acquainted with every single room in your house one day.

He remembered that you asked for his name so he shifts his attention back to you.

“Suguru.”

You repeated it and he bit the insides of his cheeks to calm himself. Shit, has his name always sounded that sexy?

You took two cups out of the cupboard and turned around, “I’m–”

“I know.” You were about to put the cups on the counter but when he said that, you paused. You looked up at him and he mentally cursed. Way to sound like a stalker.

Which he absolutely wasn't, of course.

He glanced at your purse, which you had set down on the countertop and you followed his line of sight. “It was in your purse. I had to look in it to find your address too.”

He makes sure he speaks slowly so he doesn't show his brief moment of panic and he almost sighs in relief when you let out a hum of understanding and keep making coffee.

“I suppose you know my social security number too then?” You tease and he shrugs a shoulder.

“It’s easier to remember than mine.” His skin prickles in delight when you laugh.

“You’re funny, Suguru.”

And you were adorable for thinking that he was joking.

“How do you like your coffee?” You asked as you put so much sweetener in your cup that he lost count.

“No milk or sugar,” he began to say then chuckled when you pulled a face. “What?”

“It's just a little on the nose, don’t you think?” You picked up both cups and sauntered over. “The man wearing all black liking his coffee the same way.”

If he smiled anymore, he wouldn't be able to feel his cheeks tomorrow.

“No offence, but I’ll take this over whatever it is you have in there.” He replied jerking his chin towards your cup. “Wouldn't pouring yourself a glass of milk be easier?” And you gasped in mock indignation.

“How dare you?”

You both laughed and he leaned forward to take his cup from your hand as you held it out, the sensation of your fingers grazing his sending a jolt through all his nerve endings and making goosebumps coat his skin.

Jesus, if an accidental touch had him like this, how would he react if you held his hand?

“Thank you.” You nodded and sat on the smaller couch opposite him and his excitement gave way to a little disappointment as he wished you sat next to him.

“So how old are you, Suguru?” You said his name so casually that he preened in delight. “If you don’t mind me asking that is.”

His eyes flit about you as you sat before him. Taking in your shirt that trailed a few inches up as you crossed legs and leaned back on the couch. You did all this while studying him just as intently as he was watching you, and cupping your mug between your hands.

You seemed so…relaxed and Suguru convinced himself that it was because you were comfortable with him being this close to you.

“I’m 28.” He finally answers you and you nodded again.

“I’m—”

“I know.” His mouth seemed to rush out before he could stop himself and he bit his inner cheeks in self reproach. You raised an eyebrow and he averted his gaze and took a sip of coffee to busy himself.

“I’m not sure whether I should be flattered or concerned that you seem to know everything about me.” His eyes found yours again and he saw how your eyes gleamed with amused.

You weren’t creeped out. You were teasing him.

That eased some tension from his shoulders.

“The former, I hope,” he said as charmingly as he could and he grinned when you snorted in response. He drank some more coffee and he wasn’t sure whether this was the best coffee he had ever had or whether he simply thought that because you made it. “And I don’t know everything about you.”

You hum softly, “Well, what else would you like to know?”

The tension returned to his shoulders as he steeled himself. He needed to be bold. You seemed friendly enough, actually you seemed borderline flirtatious so maybe it could work.

Maybe.

But there was only one way to know for sure.

“I…I don’t know if you’re single or not for one.” Someone kill me. He thought to himself as soon as the words left his lips. Maybe that was too forward? You only invited him in because you felt like you had to after he brought your purse back. It’s possible you were only being nice to him for that same reason. And here he was, trying to make moves on you.

What if he gave you the impression that he expected something in return for his “good deed”? Maybe he shouldn’t have—

Your lightly glossed lips quirked up at the corners, in a smirk that seemed satisfied and seductive all at once. Then you tilted your head to the side, your lush hair following the movement.

“And what if I am?”

Woah. Did that work?

And has your voice always sounded like that? All honeyed and prodding?

Now, Suguru didn’t have a lot of experience with women, not that they weren’t interested but he was rather quiet and they often took that as disinterest. That paired with the company he kept, Satoru Gojo in particular, the attention was drawn off him almost instantly.

Because why bother yourself with the brooding man in the corner of the room, who gave short yes or no answers while his richer, friendlier and more charming friend was right there?

The women were attracted to him but as soon as he started talking, or perhaps when he didn’t talk enough, he watched as their eyes glazed over in boredom and they set their sights on his best friend or someone else instead.

All that was fine with Suguru, he liked being left alone and small talk was pointless to him. Or at least it used to be. Because that’s exactly what you two were having right now and he didn’t just like it, he fucking loved it.

Maybe not having an interest in anyone for so long is the reason what he feels now is bordering obsessive.

You made jokes, teased him like an old friend, asked him personal questions. And you were looking at him. You were completely focused on him in a way that would have been unnerving if he didn’t look at you the exact same way.

He knew you found him attractive but even as he spoke, stumbling over his words, interrupting you often and saying things that should have you running the other way, you only smiled.

His shoulders sagged again and your smile summoned his own. Maybe he’d take his friend’s advice and assert himself more.

***

You smiled at Suguru from across the table. When he first turned up on your doorstep you were sure you died and went to heaven. Well maybe not heaven because there’s no way men that devilishly handsome couldn’t be found there.

Suguru Geto was a mountain of a man, standing well over six feet tall, dressed in all black with gauges in his ears and thick inky black hair tied back with a few strands flowing over his forehead.

And when he held out your purse, the small pink bag so out of place with his whole aesthetic, you nearly wept.

You took two whole days to realise you lost it and you nearly drove yourself mad as you looked for it all around your house and in your car. You eventually gave up and on the day you planned to go up and down to get new bank cards, an ID and driver’s license he showed up with your purse.

And the gloomy day turned around immediately and as if it couldn’t get better, he asked you on a date.

That leads to to now. Two weeks later and in some fancy restaurant with meals you can’t even pronounce the names of and more game meat than anything else.

Suguru looked at you more than he did the menu, his peculiar eyes, you thought they were purple, ate you up and drank you in with that intensity he usually saved for when he thought you aren’t looking. But now he wasn’t even bothering to hide it.

He wanted you. That must was obvious.

And not just to date you or for sex. You thought it might be more. Something that you couldn’t place but seemed a little more all consuming. A little darker.

“You look…absolutely gorgeous.” His pressed his plush lower lip between his teeth and your eyes widened. “I don’t know if I told you that already.”

“Oh, only a hundred times.” You saw him let out a deep breath when you laughed. “But feel free to keep going.”

His laughter was like liquid heat. You felt it burn up your skin then move under it, gliding down and spurring in your lower stomach before settling between your legs.

Fuck. Me.

“I mean, who can blame me?” He said with that grin that made his eyes look like crescent moons.

He was one to talk. Was it even fair for a man to be that beautiful?

“You know you don’t have to flatter me more, right? You already have me on a date.” His smile widened and you shook you head at him and took a sip of wine.

“What if I want more?”

The wine is spat right out as you choke on it.

Somewhere between your coughing and teary eyes, Suguru hands you one of the white cloths on the table and you hear his stifled chuckles.

“You’re an asshole.” You rasp as he laughs and you try to sound upset but you glance up and the look you see on his face is one you can’t even decipher.

“I’m sorry,” he said, raising his hands in surrender before he pushed his glass of water over to you. “But I was being serious.”

He watched as you wiped your mouth then took a sip of his water. You swiftly wiped down the wine that was trickling down your chin then moved down to the drops that splattered onto the tops of your breasts. There were a few wet dots on your dark navy dress that you can’t do much about and the image sent his mind places it shouldn’t be so he focused on your face again.

“Thank you,” you gave his glass back to him once you took a few sips. “And what more do you want?”

It would be a much shorter list to ask him what he didn’t want. Because he wanted…

“Everything.” He took the glass from you and set it down on the table.

The finality in his voice made you pause. And you were so wrapped up in trying to find a snarky remark for that comment that you missed it.

You missed when he turned the glass of water you just drank from, and kept turning it until he found the lipstick stain you left behind on the rim. Then he causally raised the glass to his mouth and took a long sip, right over the same spot you drank from. Once he’s done he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and he puts it down again.

“You know, usually people get to know more about each other before they start saying those kind of things, Suguru.”

“But I know everything about you, remember?” You laughed again, but he was only half joking.

“Fine then tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?” He asked with a raised brow.

You shrugged a shoulder and threw his statement back at him. “Everything.”

Oh, you had no idea how happy that made him. He wasn’t a fan of talking but if that’s what you wanted he’d talk your ear off. He’d tell you everything you wanted to know.

And that’s what he did, minus the mild stalking of course.

He told you about his parents who were still in Japan. He came here with his aunt when he was a few years old and goes to visit them twice a year. He’s not very close to his parents but he loved them dearly. You got that much from the sad smile he had as he spoke about them. His smile became less strained when he started speaking about his aunt though. She raised him and he believed he owed everything to her.

Her and some man named Satoru.

Now Satoru sounded like a piece of work. The way Suguru described him had you cackling and you just knew there was never a dull moment when the man was around. But you also wondered how two men so different from each other could be so close.

That was until Suguru started explaining that he once drunkingly told Satoru about his pipe dream of having a tattoo and piercing parlour and the next week, the man forced him to draw up a business plan and insisted on investing in it. One parlour became two and two became seventy four country wide.

Your eyes widened when he said that but Suguru carried on as if he didn’t just tell you he and his friend were basically millionaires.

You put your elbows on the table, table manners long discarded as you listened to him with renewed interest.

He told you about his siblings and even showed you pictures of his nieces, who were two of the cutest little girls you had ever seen. You must have cooed a little too many times and he ended up taking his phone from you because you were, “Getting distracted,” as he put it.

Only Suguru could get jealous of his nieces.

You asked questions too and he was so interested in every answer that he ate less while listening to you than he did when he was talking.

Eventually, the two of you got through six courses and two bottles of wine, giggling and staring at each other like long time lovers and Suguru’s heart felt so full it was like it could burst.

Your hands were a few millimetres away from each other and somewhere along the conversation, you gently placed yours on his. He turned his hand over and held onto yours with a lot more tenderness than you were used to so you just had to comment.

“Hm, you’re almost too good at this. Has me wondering how many women you’ve wined and dined like this.” You said as he traced over one of your palm lines with the pad of his finger.

“Does it matter if the only woman I care about is in front of me right now?” He retorted, completely unbothered and you clicked your tongue.

“Oh, fuck off.” He barked out a laugh and you smiled, cheeks bunching up and a little sore because of how much you’ve been doing that this evening. “No man is this perfect.”

“If taking you out for dinner and a little conversation has you thinking I’m perfect, I don’t know whether to be glad or concerned about your previous choices in men.” He said rubbing his thumb over your knuckle.

You took another sip of wine and shook your head vehemently. “Don’t ask. I’d rather not go down that rabbit hole.”

He hummed in response.

And he wouldn’t ask. That was none of his business. And you weren’t with them now. You were with him. You were his.

“But what about you?”

“The men I’ve been with before you?” He quipped up and you snorted out a laugh.

“Yes, though I hope there are a few women in there too. Otherwise this is going to get really awkward really fast.” You replied, gesturing between you two with your free hand while his eyes danced with amusement.

“I’ve gone on some dates but I haven’t really been in a relationship.”

You eyebrows raised. That had obviously surprised you. “Ah, so you’re a one and done type of guy?”

You were half joking and a little curious, a little concerned too. You weren’t opposed to a one night stand but well…you were hoping Suguru wouldn’t just be one.

But he shook his head. “Hardly,” he reassured you but you weren’t so sure. “I mean, not sexually at least. I haven’t even been with anyone, so definitely not.”

You hummed in understanding. “Oh, you haven’t been with anyone for a while then?”

That made you feel a little better. Maybe you had nothing to worry about. Or so you thought until he shrugged. “If by a while you mean never, then sure.”

You blinked at him as if he had just transformed into some unnatural creature and your brain was struggling to comprehend what it was seeing.

“What do you mean by that?”

He gave you a dry look, though he was still smiling too. And it’s as if he was saying, “What do you think I mean?”

If he has never been with someone then…well that means…

Your eyes nearly bulged out their sockets.

“Are you—?!” You realised your voice was a little too high pitched so you cleared your throat and leaned forward a little. “I’m sorry. Are you…trying to tell me that you’re a virgin?”

The look of sheer disbelief on your face and your conspiratorial whisper, as if you were asking a top secret level question had him stifling a laugh as he leaned forward too.

Your faces were inches from each other as he breathed one word just as dramatically as you asked the question. “Yes.”

“No.” You said leaning back and you were about to draw your hand from his so he tightened his grip.

“Yes.” He repeated and snickered when you shook your head.

“You’re a virgin?” You whispered again and gave him a once over.

There’s was no way. Then again it was a shock that he’s single to begin with.

“Would you like me to say yes in Japanese this time?” He took no offense to your disbelief, in fact, he liked the sight of your wide eyes and full lips parted.

“Wow.” You huffed out a breath and looked at him as if you were seeing him for the first time.

“Is that a deal breaker, baby?” The pet name had you biting your inner cheeks and you shook your head.

“No…actually, I should be asking that,” you leaned forward again. “Suguru, I’m not a virgin.”

“So?” He sniggered because he knew that. He saw that you weren’t. He just didn’t care. What did your past sexual partners matter when he’d be your last?

”Is it for religious reasons? Or are you waiting for marriage or something?” He was already shaking his head before you finished talking.

“No, I just haven’t really been interested enough to go all the way with someone,” he looked down at your joined hands, yours so warm and soft in his. “Until now.”

When he finished that statement, he looked up and he was pleased to see a faint blush on your cheeks instead of horror.

Your lips parted but before you could say anything, the waitress came back and looked down at him, her eyes appreciative as they flitted over his suit-clad form. “Everything alright here, sir?”

“Yes, thank you. May we have the bill?” He asked, sparing her a quick glance and polite smile before turning his amethyst gaze to you.

“Of course, sir,” she purred and you shot a look at her. “And I can't get you anything else? Anything at all?” Suguru shook his head but she pressed on. “You sure?”

He turned to her and it was only because you were looking at him that you saw it. You saw all the warmth melt away from his expression and all that was felt was ice. His face became so cold, so devoid of emotion so quickly that the hairs on your arms stood up in trepidation.

Sure, the waitress was being rude but that look on his face? It was so different from his crescent-eyed smiles and hearty chuckles that it genuinely scared you.

“The bill.” He repeated and all the earlier politeness from his voice was gone, leaving behind a low guttural tone that made you shiver. You wanted to believe it was in fear but maybe a little arousal too?

Oh, you were a lost cause.

The waitress must’ve not shared the same sentiment as her back straightened and she cleared her throat, ever the professional now. “Yes, sir.”

She left as quickly as she came and Suguru turned back to you, his face losing that harsh expression as he smiled softly. “Now, where were we?”

He fell back into that easygoing mood so naturally that you did too.

“We were talking about your virtue and my lack thereof.”

He laughed and your eyes flickered over his face. He was handsome all the time but especially when he laughed.

“My virtue?” His shoulders shook. “You make me sound like some sort of priest.”

The image of him in clerical clothes popped into your head but you quickly shook it off.

You couldn’t start drooling out of nowhere.

“Might as well be.” You half joked and he gave you a wolfish smile in return as he leaned back in his chair. He doesn’t let go of your hand, though. If anything, the gentle brush of his thumb over your hand becomes lascivious. Charged.

The change isn’t lost on you as you curled an eyebrow at him and the waitress came back with the bill. She set it beside your joined hands and you spared her a quick glance to see her frown.

You can’t even blame her because you’d be jealous too.

You turned your attention back to Suguru and reached for the bill. “You want me to handle this?” he laughs at you before you can even finish talking and takes the bill from you.

“Baby, I think witnessing your card decline once was enough for me.” He let go of your hand while your jaw dropped at the jab. Your attempt to tease him got thrown right back at you and even the purr he used when he called you “baby” didn’t hide that.

Your card only declined at the cafe because of their network. Its not like you were broke or anything…

The waitress came back with a card machine and Suguru paid the bill, oblivious to your glare or choosing to ignore it. That was until she told you two to enjoy the rest of our evening and left that he turned to you again and chuckled at your frown. The way your lips pursed and pointed downwards resembled more of a cute pout though.

He almost told you that but decided against it at the last minute.

He stood up and went over to your side of the table, helping you up and his hand immediately finding your waist.

After dinner, he was a little more sure of himself. A lot bolder too.

Maybe that’s why as you two walked out the restaurant and towards his car, he leaned down to your ear, soft lips brushing the shell and said, “You called me a priest earlier. Would you let me prove you wrong?”

As soon as the words left his lips, he saw—and felt — a full body shudder run through you. You turned to him, tipping your head up so you could look him in the eye and when he saw yours dilated, he already knew your answer.

***

There was a part of your brain that was screaming at you to get up and run but the rush of blood between your ears blocked out all sound.

You were unlocking the front door when Suguru turned you around, pressed you against it and kissed you.

It was so tender at first that you barely felt it, the barest peck of his lips against yours but then as if he was possessed, he pushed up against you and slanted his lips over yours completely.

He kissed you like he was starving. Breathing and groaning into your mouth, covering it with his as his teeth nipped at the seam of your lips.

The look in his eyes when he broke away should have had alarm bells ringing in your head.

He was turned on. Hell, you were too. But there was a dark gleam there too. One that you should read into but you were too far gone to pay more attention.

When he backed you into your house and led you right to your room as if he knew exactly where it was, you probably should have paid attention then too. But how could you when his mouth worked over your neck then down to your chest, sucking at the remnants of wine that you spilled over your breasts?

He pulled you into his arms so easily that you let out a sharp gasp and he set you down on your bed, right in the middle.

He saw that your blinds were open but he made no move to close them. Let them watch. He thought.

You let your thighs spread and he kneeled between them, looking down at you again with that strange look and purple in his eyes so blown out they seemed black.

“You’re perfect.”

You flushed even as you scoffed at him, “Hardly.”

He shook his head and reached a hand down, placing it on your cheek and you know he can feel the heat from your blush, “Completely.”

Your cheeks only got hotter and when his fingers brushed over the hem of your dress, you were sure you looked like a tomato.

“Can I take this off?” He intoned and when you nodded, he shook his head. “I need you to say it, baby.”

There he went with the pet names again. He said them with so much familiarity that it almost felt like you had been together for years instead of just talking over the phone for a few weeks.

“I want you to take it off.” You murmured and when he smiled, the sight compelled you to say more. To keep him happy. “I want it all off.”

His smile faltered and you almost thought you said something wrong but then his eyes darken again and he leaned down and kissed you again.

Somewhere between the kiss, he pulled your dress off and you pushed his blazer over his shoulders then did the same with his dress shirt.

You broke away from the kiss for a moment and ogle the tattoos on his arms and chest. The dark swirls of black against his tan skin made your lips part and you must have made some sort of strangled noise because he chuckled and pecked your lips again.

You reached for his belt buckle but he gently pushed your hands away. “Not yet.”

His hands moved under you to unclasp your bra and he struggled with it a little longer than the other men you’ve been with. You saw a pink tint rise to his cheeks and it made you smile.

A few seconds later, he got the hooks undone and pulled the straps off your shoulders and down your arms. There was a soft thud as the bra hit the floor.

Suguru’s hands immediately cupped your breasts. The warmth and softness of the gesture made you a little breathless.

“Perfect.” He whispered again, so softly as if the word was only for him.

His hands slid down your body, skating over the soft planes and curves until they reached your panties. His fingers hook into but before he slipped them off, he glanced up at you again.

“You can stop me at any time, you know that, right?”

Your hands squeezed at his shoulders. “Yeah.”

That’s all the confirmation he needed because the thin satin fabric is rolled down your legs and you wait for him to throw it off the bed too but he doesn’t. You thought you saw him slip them into his pocket but…that can’t be right. Can it?

“Did you just—” your legs are pried open wider and you yelp. Whatever questions you had are forgotten as you watch how he stared down at you.

His eyes were zeroed in right between your thighs and the heat of his gaze had you subtly trying to close them but his hands on your thighs allowed no escape. No chance to hide yourself.

This goes on for a few moments longer and just as you were starting to get a little concerned, he moved off you. He kneeled at the edge of the bed and put his hands on the tops of your thighs, moving you closer.

“I want you to show me what you like.”

He gently took your hand in his and placed it over your pussy. His eyes flicker up to yours again.

“Please.”

Your chest heaved and you let your legs fall open a little more. Your middle and ring finger gathered up your wetness then moved up to press against your clit and you heard his sharp intake of breath.

You circled your fingers over yourself and your breath caught but then the next came out as a moan.

Suguru leaned down and watched intently as you kept touching yourself, fingers so skilled he felt his dick harden to the point of pain.

His eyes glazed over when you spread your folds open, all glistening and plush and your scent so sweet, so you, that he breathed it deeply.

You sighed as you slipped a finger into your pussy, the sound so soft that he turned to press a kiss to your thigh.

His gentle press of his lips against your skin sent fire through your veins and just as you’re about to beg, he gently knocked your hand away and replaced it with his. His fingers pressed right on the same spot yours was on. They worked over you just as good as yours did if not better.

The sounds you made echoed through the room and he grinned against your thigh then started kissing downwards.

What he planned to do set in and you gently pushed at his shoulders. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“Have to?” He huffed out a deep laugh. “Baby, I need to.” He kissed over your navel. “Please let me taste you.”

No way you could say no to that.

And Suguru knew it too because his head lowered between your legs.

He swiped his tongue once, slow and tentative then he paused. The hesitation was enough to immediately make you self conscious. Men never really went down on you, they didn’t seem to enjoy it. But maybe there was another reason?

Your internal panic is abruptly cut off when Suguru’s strong hands grip your thighs, tugging you closer then he puts his mouth over you.

Suguru drew sounds from you that you’ve never heard before. Sounds that are a little embarrassing even to your ears but you can’t seem to stop, not with how skilled his tongue swirls, delves, flicks and sucks over your cunt. Not with the way he groans in approval when he heard how affected you were.

“Don’t stop.” You gasped, hand smoothing over his hair and marvelling at how soft it left. He tied it in a bun and you undid it, pulling the hair tie onto your wrist then grasping his hair. He moaned against you then let his tongue loll out just as you bucked your hips up.

Suguru took one hand off your thigh, just as quickly, two slid into you. He sucked your clit into his mouth and your eyebrows furrowed.

As your heels dug into the toned muscles of his back, thighs clenched around his head and hands clutched at his hair as you came, sweet moans echoing through your room, he couldn’t hold back either.

A single press of his hips to the edge of the bed had him coming in his pants like a virgin. Then again, that’s what he was.

He didn’t give himself time to catch his breath or for the embarrassment to sink in as he stood up and unbuckled his belt.

He looked down at you, sated and practically glowing as your mussed hair sprawled over the bed.

Your body that seemed so out of reach was laid out in front of him and as your pretty eyes fluttered open and you smiled at him.

All the facts were set in stone for him.

You were his, forever. And he was never letting this go.

He got his pants off and you sat up on your elbows when he pulled himself free. His dick pointed right at you, the length and girth of it a little intimidating. It was glistening with his cum and you got a shot of pride at that fact.

To make a man like him come untouched was an accomplishment for sure.

Except, you caught a flash of silver and sat up completely and your head tilted. You took his dick in your hand and ignored his low curse as you lifted it, laying it flat against his abdomen.

Oh.

What you saw wasn’t cum, or at least not only that. He had piercings. Two on the underside of his dick.

“Jacob’s ladder,” he murmured as you traced a thumb over the jewellery. When you looked up at him, he clarified. “That’s what it’s called.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Nearly died.”

Your mouth twitches but then you forced your eyes to narrow on him. “A virgin with a ’Jacob’s ladder’? I don’t knoooooow.”

He snorted out a laugh and tucked his hands under your arms, lifting you up then laying you down on the bed again. His body immediately covered yours and he kissed the tip of your nose.

“I own tattoo and piercing parlours, remember?”

“I guess…” You wrapped your arms and legs around him.

“You’re being very judgmental for someone who hasn’t tried it yet.” He muses and presses closer to you.

“Tried having my dick pierced.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Tried feeling it. I mean, I don’t have any reviews yet, but I have a feeling you’ll enjoy it..”

It’s a little funny how quickly the two of you went from that heated moment to giggling and rolling around your bed.

Your hands skated up and down his back and you grinned. “Shall we test that theory?”

“We shall,” he kissed you again. “Got any condoms?”

You pale a little because you genuinely forgot about that.

“Oh, yeah.” He gave you some room as you shifted to your bedside table and opened the drawer. You dug inside then cursed as you moved to look inside. You felt like running into a wall at full speed and you turned back to him. “All out.”

Suguru’s stomach bottomed out but he forced himself to nod. “That’s okay.” He was about to back up but you tightened your limbs around him.

“Wait,” he stopped immediately. “I’m on the pill. And I get tested all the time so I know I’m all good. And you’re a virgin so you should be too so maybe…” his face was unreadable now. No warmth of affection or heat of arousal and that was enough to make you lose all your confidence.

You didn’t know that Suguru had to work hard to keep his reaction under control. You were willing to have sex without a condom? With him? You were willing to have him pump his cum into you? Offering to squeeze and milk his cock for every drop.

“Nevermind. It’s dumb to suggest that—“ He cut you off with a kiss. Mouth rough against yours as he rocked his hips against yours.

You moaned into his moan and he swallowed the sound and breathed his own into yours.

He reached down between you and grasped his dick, lined you up and slowly eased in. He bottomed out and buried his face against your neck with a low whine. He felt you clench around him, soft flesh and hot damn near choking his dick and he hissed.

“You can move now.” You teased and you both laughed.

“Five seconds,” he pleaded against your skin. “Or I’m going to embarrass myself.”

Again.

He takes a moment later then flexes his hips experimentally. Your moan of approval has him doing it again and slowly, the two of you are moving together at a dizzying pace.

It’s slow but every time he moves, he nudges against a spot you’ve only ever been able to reach alone and the piercings only add to it.

The slow writhe of your bodies became more desperate and your nails cut into the skin of his back as he ground his hips down into you. He kept one beside your head to hold himself above you but moved the other one under your ass and gripped it.

He urged you to meet his thrusts and you mewled his name. He pressed his forehead against yours, body wound tight with barely leashed violent tension and eyes wild. “Say it again.”

You moaned his name again and he slanted his lips over yours. From the way he kissed you, you didn’t know whether he liked you saying his name or hated it. He bit at your bottom lip, hard, and you yelped in pain but you also clenched around his dick like a vice.

Suguru broke away and his eyes squeezed shut. The sight of a man so strong seeming so broken had you tighten even more and he shuddered.

“I’m gonna come.” He whined.

“Please come,” You paused to lick your lip and tasted a hint of blood. It should be alarming but you were more turned on. “Inside.”

The choked moan that one word elicited was utterly ruined and he thrust harder. You moved a hand down to circle your clit but it’s immediately knocked aside and he took over.

He rocked into you, toyed with you and when you felt his dick pulse, you were done. You came harder than you ever have before, legs wrapped tight around him as he spilled into you and moaned just as loudly as you did.

He kept moving even as you both trembled with overstimulation. And it was only when you grunted and patted his chest that he slowed down.

But he didn’t stop.

Strong arms banded around you, and his weight bore down on you as he ground his hips against yours.

“Suguru—” He kissed you again—he seemed to like doing that— and carded a hand through your hair while you blabbered against his mouth.

Your nails cut into the skin of his shoulders but it only made him shiver with pleasure. He hoped you marked him as yours.

“One more,” he rasped heavily after he broke away from the kiss. “Just give me one more.”

You swore a bead of sweat trickled down your temple as you looked up into his eyes. They were churning with so much lust that you began to wonder whether you had just created a monster.

“Just one, please.” He repeated and didn’t even wait for your response as three fingers landed on your clit and moved with a speed that knocked the air out of you.

His thrusts were slow, and a little jerky as he got close again but his fingers? Those were relentless. Almost punishing and you were so sensitive that instead of a scream coming out, your mouth just gaped.

His tongue swiped over your bottom lip then he kissed down your neck, all the way to your chest. “Please come around my cock again.” He said in what sounded like a desperate plea. You weren’t 100% sure because while it sounded like he was begging, his lips wrapped around your nipple and sucked with a ferocity that made it seem like he was commanding you to do so.

Your hand skated to his back and you felt the hard muscles rippling as he moved. You felt the raised lines of his tattoos and his damp hair formed a curtain around you two and trickled your skin.

“Come.” He commanded and when he angled his hips so he thrust upwards and you felt the glide of his piercings over your walls, that’s exactly what you did.

You trembled as he came inside you again, a lot less than before but the whimper he breathed against your nipple let you know it was a lot more intense.

He slowed down then reluctantly stopped. He didn’t move away though. And you were so overstimulated the press of his pelvis against you almost sent you over the edge again.

“I'm all for dick piercings.” Were the first words that came out your mouth and he barked out a laugh. “No, seriously that was…” you began and he pulled back and flicked his eyes over your face as if to gauge what you were thinking. “And don’t go getting a big head but that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah.” he blew out a breath. “Same,” he snickered when a hard smack landed on his chest. “What?”

“That was the only sex you’ve ever had.”

“So? Can’t imagine it gets better than this.” He shrugged a shoulder while something that felt a lot like butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

Suguru pushed off his arm and pulled out of you and just as you began to sigh at the loss he settled between your legs again, shoulders pushing them open wider.

He watched with unnerving intensity as his cum seeped out of you and just before it could drip onto your sheets, he pushed two fingers into you.

You buck in surprise, hands clutching at his shoulders again. “You sure you’re a virgin?”

His lips tipped up at the corners into a devilish grin.

“Well, not anymore.”

You laughed but it was soon cut off when he covered your cunt with his mouth again. The sound you make has him rutting against the mattress and the bite of overstimulation has him stifling a whimper by sucking your clit into his mouth.

Your hands delve into his thick hair and you seemed caught between yanking him off you and smothering him. And part of him hopes you do the latter.

Because what better way to go than between your thighs, with your combined taste on his tongue and your soft hands in his hair and sweet moans ringing in his ears?

He couldn’t think of one.

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nottswitch · 1 year ago

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yellow hearts

summary: the times you put yellow hearts around his name, and the times he put them around yours.

pairing: sirius black x reader

warning: sappy fluff

wc: 1.6k

a/n: yellow hearts by ant saunders. a cute little thing I made upon hearing this song after many many years. finally able to write something short!

“Girl, what is this?!”

You whine, slamming your diary shut. Your cheeks suddenly feel hot and you try your hardest to avoid Lily’s prying gaze. She tries to look over your shoulder again, letting out a disappointed groan at the sight of a shiny cover.

“Just… Zip it,” you sigh, still flustered and really embarrassed. “You didn’t see anything!”

“No, no, I definitely just saw it!” Lily shouts and you have to hush her, noticing a few people at the table giving you weird glances. “Was it “Sirius” with hearts around?” she asks, her voice a bit calmer but still conveying the same emotions.

“No…”

You stutter, giving yourself completely and irrevocably away. Your eyes make an automatic roll and you scoot over to make space for your friend. Lily plops down next to you, her eager hands already reaching for your little navy-blue diary. Before you have time to hide it, she snatches the book from you and starts flicking through the pages, ignoring whatever is written on them. Finally, she finds the right page and bends the spine of the diary to have a better look.

Here it is, in all its glory. A “Sirius” with shiny yellow hearts drawn all around.

“Eww!!!”

Lily wrinkles her whole face, looking at you and then at your scribbles again.

“Don’t tell me it’s that prat Black from our year! Is it?!”

You sigh, taking the diary from her and putting it safely in your bag.

“Who else has the name, Lily? Think.”

You stare down at your breakfast, hoping that as long as you don’t look at your friend, she will miraculously forget about your existence.

“But he hangs out with Potter and they’re a bunch of tossers!” Lily’s voice is loud again, earning you a few more concerned looks.

You sigh again, biting on a slice of bacon.

“Maybe,” you mumble with your mouth full.

Lily rolls her eyes. Her plate remains untouched as she turns to you, fully intending to push for more information.

“And since when?” she demands, raising her eyebrow. You start to feel like a criminal being questioned in court.

“Last year,” you answer reluctantly, knowing that she won’t let you be if you don’t pour your whole heart out right here and now.

Lily scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief.

“This is so messed up! What’re you gonna do?”

You don’t reply. You don’t know yet. You don’t plan to ever know. But you don’t stop your sappy scribbles – you just make sure Lily never sees them again.

The second time someone sees the yellow hearts is much, much worse.

It’s your fifth year. You lost the diary a couple of days ago and you go absolutely mental trying to remember all the places you could have left it at. Your heartbeat briefly stops every time you think of a possibility of someone finding it, reading it and knowing it all.

“Oi, come on! It’s not like fancying Black is just a you thing!”

Lily tries to calm you down as best as she can. She has been lightly teasing you about your crush on Sirius for the previous two years, but she sees your worry and, being a good friend she is, hugs you and helps you on a secret mission to search every single classroom for any signs of the diary. Unfortunately, no luck.

“Lily, shut up! I have a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.”

You nibble on your nails for the hundredth time today – a nasty habit you have developed ever since losing the only way to let out your growing feelings towards a certain someone.

“What? The whole school is mad about him and his pack of tossers! No one’d blink an eye.”

“But what if he finds it?!”

“He finds what?”

You freeze at the sound of a voice, and not just a voice, his voice. A young fellow appears from behind the bench you’re sitting on, followed by three other guys, all snickering and whispering something to each other.

“Hello there, ladies,” Sirius murmurs, making a funny little bow.

“Black, shut it!” Lily immediately retorts, noticing your hopeless gaze. “Keep walking, and you might just live.”

“Well, I would, but I may have something you’re looking for.”

No. No, no, no, no.

A small navy-blue book appears in his hand and you suddenly feel like the bottom of the lake wouldn’t be such a horrible spot to be in. Lily’s eyes are wide and you think that if she had an ability to cast spells with just her eyes, she would use it right at this moment.

“Where the hell-” she starts, but you cut her off, not willing to prolong the already tense and miserable moment.

“Sirius, please, give it back.”

Your voice trembles treacherously and you mentally curse yourself for such a poor attempt at hiding your emotions. A thought of trading your face for a brick wall doesn’t seem that unappealing.

To your surprise, Sirius hands you the book without any of his usual shenanigans that you would normally expect. Your fingers brush his as you snatch the diary from him and you hold in a gasp; you would not mind becoming a delicious meal for the mermaids to munch on.

Sirius turns on his heels to leave, but then stops abruptly, as if he forgot something. A moment later, he’s at your ear, his breath warming up your already flaming hot cheek.

“I like yellow,” he whispers as his lips graze against your stray baby hairs; they suddenly feel like а bouquet of exposed nerves.

He leaves, shameless about the fact that his actions made your heart perform acrobatics within the bounds of your ribcage.

“What did he say?!” Lily repeats over and over, but you can barely hear her voice. You flip through the pages erratically and the right one catches your eye at last. A glaring “Sirius” with yellow hearts around it. You notice another name at the bottom of the page. A name of your own, staring right at you. And around it, the same yellow hearts.

The third time someone sees the yellow hearts you aren’t anxious anymore.

It’s your seventh year. Exams are approaching, but seeing as your boyfriend is Sirius Black, it’s hard to get any actual studying done. You have been dating for quite a while now, but it still feels… new.

You’re in Transfiguration together. He sits several rows behind you – a rule McGonagall made just a week prior, “For your own good”, as she said, because together you weren’t making much progress. But he still finds ways to remind you of his presence – he makes paper birds, charming them to fly right to you. Sometimes they’re just pretty birds, sometimes they’re notes with some silly poem he wrote for you, just to make you laugh and earn a warning from Minerva – for both of you, because the source of your distraction is really obvious.

Another bird lands on the desk in front of you. You quickly glance at McGonagall and, much to your contentment, notice that she’s preoccupied with her textbook.

“Hey,” you hear a whisper from behind. Of course, you recognize Sirius. He grins at you and gestures to unfold the origami. Even before you can do it, you see a sheer golden glow emanating from within. Your smile grows wider as you open the poor bird and see the letters scribbled down on a piece of parchment.

Your name. And yellow hearts around it.

McGonagall clears her throat somewhere above you. Her menacing glare tries to burn a hole in your head, but you don’t really care. You give her a sorry nonetheless.

“Shall I teach special classes, so that you attend in the morning and Mr. Black – in the evening?” the professor demands, but you see glimmers of amusement in her eyes. She briefly glances at the note she took from you and gives you and Sirius one of her raised-eyebrow looks, but you see the corners of her mouth lift up ever so slightly. You hear Sirius chuckle, close your eyes and smile. You don’t need anyone else.

The fourth time yellow hearts frame not one name, but two.

You and Sirius have just returned from your honeymoon. You have a whole stack of polaroids from your trip and you want to pick just one to put on the fridge in your shared home. The job proves to be rather difficult. You almost have a fight, which is so stupid and insignificant, but so you.

“Babe, this one is obviously superior! You see how stunning I am in this jacket?!”

“Yeah, and I’m blinking like an idiot because the sun is right up in my face. Sirius, babe, not everything has to be about you.”

You finally choose the one. It’s the last polaroid in your stack and you just can’t take your eyes off of it. In the picture, you’re waving at the camera and laughing, with an ice cream cone in your hand. Sirius pulls you in for a kiss and when he leans away, his nose is adorned with a spot of white ice cream.

You can’t help giggling, show the polaroid to Sirius and he does the same.

“This is it,” you say simultaneously and cackle at your apparently developed skill in Legilimency.

“Just a moment.”

Sirius stops you from taking the picture, takes out a sharpie and writes something on a white area at the bottom of it. He takes out his wand, silently waves it in front of the picture and only then goes up to the fridge and puts it up with many others. He steps back to have a better look at his creation.

You’re flustered, but a joyful smile doesn’t leave your lips. Sirius understands and places a gentle kiss on your temple. You look at the words written on the polaroid once more.

A “Sirius” and then your name below it. Around it, shiny yellow hearts shimmering in the sun and casting an array of rainbow specks all over the kitchen.

my masterlist

#— witch’s works ☾#sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #the marauders #the marauders era #the marauders imagine #the marauders fanfiction

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pbeltarts · 2 months ago

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Witness Protection AU Pt 2

The next part in my 3 part oneshot!

no quirks au, bkdk/dkbk, cw: implied character death!

Katsuki is 14 years old when he returns home from school, dreading telling his parents about the note he was sent back with for getting into a fight, only to find his parents glued to their living room TV. When he approaches to see what's up, the blood runs cold in his veins.

The TV shows the news, reporting about a woman discovered injured, possibly dead, in her home. The case is from a city over, but is being widely broadcast because according to the police, they believe her 14 year old son is missing and are looking for any information about his whereabouts.

Katsuki stares in stunned silence, his fists clenching tight enough at his sides to leave marks, maybe draw blood. Because the woman's photo that they have on screen is Inko Midoriya.

And the next photo is Izuku, 14 years old. The first time Katsuki has seen his face since he left 7 years ago. And he's missing.

When his parents notice him, his mom speaks up, asking him if he remembered them when they were their neighbor. He can't even explain how stupid of a question that is.

3 months after Izuku moved, Katsuki got a letter. It had no return address and the handwriting was crappy but familiar. He didn't show it to his parents, instead hiding it in his room because he knew who had sent it. It annoyed him he couldn't write back, but having a sign that the nerd was still out there was more comforting than he expected. He'd struggled dealing with other kids since Izuku left, and he wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he missed the loser. So when he got that letter, it felt like a spark ignited.

And it wasn't the last one.

Every couple of months, a letter with no return address would show up, addressed to him. He made sure to always swipe it before his mother or father could get nosey. Read every word carefully in his room before tucking each new letter into the collection he had hidden under his bed. Despite never being able to respond, Izuku kept writing him, telling him about his life, or random shows, or comics, or whatever else was on his mind. Some letters were shorter than others, though all of them spectacularly longer than most people would be able to write for. His handwriting only ver got slightly better in all that time.

All of it, proof that he was out there. That he remembered Katsuki. That he would keep writing even though Katsuki couldn't send a response.

Somewhere around a year or so after he'd left and he'd been getting the letters, Katsuki felt the need to answer somehow. He couldn't realistically, but to just get his own response out of his head, he began writing return letters in a notebook not dissimilar to the ones the nerd used to have. Those too, stayed hidden under his bed with the letters.

So when the news moves on to another story, and his parents move around him to go back to their lives, muttering about how awful it is and how they hope that "boy" is alright, Katsuki stiffly walks up the stairs to his room. He shuts the door, stands in the middle of his room, staring at nothing. He feels cold all over, despite running hotter than most on your average day. He doesn't know if he wants to throw up or jump out the window or run back downstairs and scour the streets.

He feels sick, tense, like someone stabbed him in between the shoulder blades and left it there. He digs out the letters and the notebooks but doesn't open either of them. Just stares at the shoeboxes he's kept them in.

Wondering if he'll ever receive another.

He follows the case, reading every article that comes out, every statement the police make. He even called the station, twice, only to hang up when someone answered on the other line. Cause what the hell was he gonna say?

'Hey, that boy you're looking for is my childhood best friend and I want to help find him. No I don't know how.'

Yeah, they'll definitely go for that. Practically let him lead the investigation.

Eventually, the case is brought up less and less. Izuku's name is broadcasted in fewer places until it just isn't. Until its just a name on a very long list of missing kids with a phone number attached to it for tips.

He never receives another letter.

#witness protection au #bkdk #dkbk #writing #not art #mha #my hero academia

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naughtyneganjdm · 1 month ago

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Christmas in Jackson - Chapter 10

Summary: During his late night shift at the inn, Joel is accompanied by Y/N so he won't be lonely. The two of them continue to learn more about one another and grow closer, but their addiction to one another causes Tommy to get angry with Joel when he lacks focus on his responsibilities.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Tommy, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61159651/chapters/163548130

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Unprotected P in V, Oral (man receiving), etc.

Notes: I am very, very sorry that I haven't finished this yet. My life has been very hectic with school and work, but I'm going to do by best to get this done as soon as possible. It has a few chapters left. Thanks to anyone that puts up with me and still reads this. You guys are awesome! If you'd like to read previous chapters, check them out here.

For as long as he could remember, Christmas had always been so mundane and repetitive for Joel. Years ago he lost complete and total interest in the holiday. It didn’t bring him joy nor happiness, it just made him sad and depressed. And last week? He just assumed he would be having the same exact kind of Christmas that he had been having since he moved to Jackson to be near Tommy. Which was usually him being alone on Christmas Eve. Since living here? He was always by himself. That meant he was always trying to find ways to keep himself busy. Whether that was working at the inn, working at home in his office on his carvings or volunteering somewhere in town. It was the only way he could make it through the day without going crazy or letting his loneliness swallow him whole. Then, on Christmas day he would have to pretend with Maria and Tommy. Muster up enough strength to be able to act like he was okay. Like he was normal and he could enjoy what the meaning of Christmas was. While he appreciated Tommy and Maria trying to include him with things, it did take Maria a while to open up to Joel. Especially since Tommy never kept anything from his wife, so Maria had no misunderstandings about Joel’s past. Spending Christmas with his brother and Maria was more so to appease Tommy anyways. But even after Maria had warmed up to the idea of Joel, it still felt like he was the third wheel between them. Like he wasn’t meant to be there.

But the worst part of Christmas time? Maria and Tommy always had a special dinner the day after Christmas where all of their friends and family got together. Which really meant people that Maria and Tommy were close to, but they always managed to pull Joel along with them. The problem was Maria didn’t hide things from her family either, so Maria’s family was never the biggest fans of Joel. And they never let him forget it.

That was the nice thing about this Christmas though. Instead of being alone and forcing himself to keep his mind busy, Joel had someone that he actually cared for. Someone that he wanted to be around. And that loneliness that he grew accustomed to? Well it just disappeared. It was still part of him, but that hole had been filled with a feeling that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time and he liked it.

Right now, it was a little past midnight on Christmas Eve and he was seated in the lobby working just as Tommy had requested him to do. Which really just meant he was sitting around and doing nothing, like most nights he had to work overnight for the inn. He was just there to babysit the place and make sure that no one showed up during the night or needed anything. But he didn’t hate this like he did the last couple of years. That’s because sitting across from him at the coffee table staring down at the chess board they had pulled out to distract themselves was Y/N.

Even though he told her it would be okay if she went to bed, she insisted that she wanted to be with him stating that he shouldn’t be alone on Christmas Eve. So he didn’t fight her on it. Hell, he welcomed the company. It was nice having her around.

Leaning forward in her seat across from Joel, her face scrunched up while she stared intensely down at the chessboard, scrutinizing every piece. What she was doing was considering her next move and she was deep in thought. He could tell that she was trying to play out every possible scenario in her head and it made him smile how seriously she was actually taking this game. Watching her brought a smile to his face. In his eyes, she was incredibly charming and cute with the frustration that flooded through her face when she didn’t know what to do next. Tipping his head to the side, his eyebrows bounced up when her eyes lifted and she noticed that he was staring out at her visibly entertained.

“You’ve gotta make your move at some point,” he informed her, holding his hand out toward the chessboard causing her to scoff in response. Sure, he was pretending to be impatient, but he really didn’t give a damn how long she took. He just liked playing with her and pushing her buttons a little bit. “I think we may have the longest game of chess on our hands right here.”

“I have to think this out,” she defended herself since they were nearing the end of their game. “You told me that you could play this, but you couldn’t play this well. And I think you were lying to me because you are kicking my ass.”

“What would I have to gain from lying to you honey? I genuinely warned you ahead of time because I really don’t play this well,” Joel insisted with a snicker as a rush of color flooded into her features. His nose wrinkled in amusement that she even thought he was lying to her about it. “Sadly, it just means you play this even worse than I do, which is shocking. But? That’s okay! You aren’t going to be the best at everything. I reckon it just shows you’re human. And I like that.”

Dramatically rolling her eyes, she bobbed her head about and held her finger up in front of her lips, “Oh hush. Please. You’re trying to get into my head and I can see what you are doing.”

The glare that she gave him was enough to make him laugh again as she finally decided on her next move with the game. Taking a look at what she did, Joel had to take a moment to pause. That was probably the worst move she could have made while playing because Joel would have easily won the game right then and there. Truthfully? He didn’t know if he should do that though. On the one hand, he could have been kind and ignored the fact that he could easily destroy her with the potential of making her feel bad. Or? There was the possibility that she would realize that he was letting her win and she could be offended by that. She really didn’t seem like the kind of girl that would be okay with a man letting her win because she really seemed like the type that wanted to earn what she had. So instead, he slid forward in the chair and reached out to make the move that would ultimately lead to him winning the game.

Watching her closely, her expression almost immediately changed when she realized the mistake that she had made and a long exhale escaped her lips, “Well, shit.”

Snorting, he slid back in his chair and watched her dramatically drop back into her seat. What she was doing in that moment was trying to play out where she went wrong and it brought some amusement for him, “Maybe you’re just tired? Y’know you don’t have to keep hanging out with me if you’d rather be sleeping. I can just finish up here and then come get you in the morning.”

“Nonsense, I want to be with you,” she assured him, shaking her head a few times at the idea of leaving him. They already had this conversation and she made it clear then she wasn’t planning on leaving him alone. “I can only imagine how boring it is all alone down here. Plus, it gives us more time with one another.”

“Well, yeah, but now I’m getting addicted to being around you and I’m developing some serious codependency issues here,” he suggested with a weak smile, knowing that while he was teasing her about it, he did actually notice that the more they were together the less he wanted to be away from her. Hearing that made her dramatically frown and he laughed out at her response. “I’m just saying, I do acknowledge that we have to spend some time apart, y’know? Not that I don’t love being with you because I do.”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing we had those few hours apart when you first got here,” she dismissed his thoughts refusing to believe that they needed to have any more time apart than they already had. “Are you already forgetting that I went out for a walk around town when you started work? I think that’s more than enough time if you ask me.”

“Oh, right. My mistake,” he mused, his smile growing bigger at the idea that she actually wanted to spend extensive amounts of time with him. “So what did you do with your time while we were apart? Did you find someone new you might want to spend Christmas with?”

“Please, you’re the only person I have eyes for here,” she claimed, biting down on her bottom lip realizing that he just wanted to hear that he was special for her. “I just walked around town. Checked out some of the places that I haven’t seen yet. I had some shopping that I wanted to do. But? I have to tell you, I think your brother told probably the whole town that I was your girlfriend now.”

“That would not surprise me,” he admitted, the line at the bridge of his nose growing deeper when he shook his head. Tommy did have a habit of running his mouth, even if he didn’t mean to. “I believe you, but why do you think that?”

“Well, I either had people that looked like they were afraid to even approach me,” she stated, thinking back on her time out on her own, “Or I had people coming up to talk to me proving that they were much more relaxed with me. Everyone seems to know my name now.”

“I’m sorry. My brother always had a big mouth and it consistently got him in trouble growing up,” he chuckled to himself recalling what their life was like growing up. “Keeping things a secret was always very hard for him. Even when we were children, he’d always come clean. Even if our parents weren’t onto us. He couldn’t handle the pressure of it. Used to drive me nuts. In fact, there is only one thing that I can think of where he…”

A long pause followed. The amusement that was there gradually left and Joel’s expression slowly changed to something that was very serious, “Where he was able to keep a lie. It probably still kills him to this day that he had to keep up with that lie.”

Instead of focusing on the fact that whatever it was Joel was thinking about seemed to be something bad, she decided to make light of the situation, “Learning new things about Tommy every day.”

Something about that conversation had upset Joel, so she decided to change the subject, “You know, I actually think most people know that I’m a doctor in town. I had a few people come up to me today asking me medical questions. I mean, I had a lot of people coming up to me today, but that’s beside the point.”

“Seriously?” his right eyebrow arched in curiosity and she gave him a firm nod. “What did they want to talk to you about?”

“The medical questions? Well, I had four people come up to me to ask me those,” she explained to him, resting back in the chair that she was in as she thought back on the topics that she discussed. “One of them was a pregnant woman that wanted to ask me a few questions about childbirth. Since it was her first that she was pregnant with, she was concerned after doing a google search and saw certain statistics. One person asked me if there were any natural remedies to help deal with stress and anxiety. Another person asked me if I had any suggestions about how they could keep themselves from being dehydrated and another older gentleman wanted me to take a look at one of his infected teeth asking me if he should get it taken care of.”

“God,” Joel buried his head into his hand, a warmth flooding into his face when he realized that the last one was disgusting. “As you can see, we don’t have the best healthcare out here so people are probably excited at the idea of having a hotshot doctor around that they can talk to. Our hospital is very small and most of our doctors are extremely old. So people will hop on that if they get the chance to ask you things.”

“I really don’t mind,” she refused to accept an apology about that kind of thing, waving her hand about in the air. “Back at the hospital I had to do a lot of hours at the clinic anyways, so I’m used to this kind of thing. I have a lot of experience in this area. I’m not sure anything would surprise me after all I’ve seen in New York City as a doctor.”

“Now don’t say that because this town could surprise you,” he warned her, holding his hand up to caution her at the idea of what the people here were capable of. “What were the other people coming up to you about? You said that you had a lot of people approaching you.”

“To talk about you,” she confessed eliciting a confused breath from him with his eyebrows furrowing. “Yeah, I guess they were starting to wonder if you would ever date someone. A few of them told me about a woman that your brother tried to hook you up with.”

“You’re serious?” he groaned out, dropping his head back and letting out a disgusted breath. By his reaction to what she said, she was certain that some of the gossip she heard from the people in town were real. At least the stories they told were walking the line of what really happened. “I can’t believe these people can’t mind their own business. That’s the only fucked up thing about small towns. It’s like they are trying to chase you away from me.”

“Now, that’s never going to happen,” she promised him, amused that his first worry was thinking that a few people gossiping to her about a woman that Tommy tried to hook Joel up with would chase her away. “Although, I do have to wonder if this woman is going to be holding a grudge against me when she hears that I actually managed to get you to start dating me.”

Shaking his head, he dragged his hand down over his face in a frustrated manner, “What was her name again?”

“Esther,” he responded, shaking his head at the thought of the only woman his brother ever managed to convince him to go on a blind date with. “Tommy begged me to go out with this woman. Forever. So I finally said yes after the hundredth time he bothered me about it. I guess she had a crush on me.”

“I mean, I can’t blame her,” she piped in getting Joel to roll his eyes dramatically. “I love the name.”

“Be nice,” he snickered, pointing his finger in her general direction. Throwing her hands up in the air, she feigned innocence and shook her head like she didn’t mean anything by it. “She talked a lot. And I mean a lot. Don’t get me wrong, she was nice and she was a pretty girl. And on occasion? She had a good sense of humor where she could make me laugh, but we did not match well at all. The more time I spent with her, the more I realized that.”

“Oh? What was it that turned you away, just so I know what not to do,” she interrogated him, her eyebrow arching in curiosity pulling forth a snort from him that she was interested to hear more. “I think these things are good to know. I talk a lot.”

“Yeah, but I like listening to you,” he defended, his hand placing in over the center of his chest. Trying to think of what it was that bothered him, he shrugged and sighed loudly. “She was just very unrealistic. She didn’t know to the full extent of my background, but she just thought everything was sunshine and roses. She didn’t understand that some days were hard and she always expected me to be happy. And the way she rambled on, my God…she was always talking.”

“Did the two of you have sex?” she blurt out provoking him to huff out, his eyes narrowing out at her with her being blunt about her thoughts.

“I told you, I haven’t had sex since before I came to this town,” he repeated what he had already said to her before. Nodding, she lowered her head and it made him smile. “Not that she didn’t try. Trust me, she tried. I was always pulling her hands out of my pants. Even on the very first night.”

After considering things, he shrugged his shoulders and took in a long exhale, “I don’t think I’ve really thought about Esther in a very long time. But I tell you what? I never thought I would be in a relationship again because when people…when they get to know me? It’s never good. Once people learn who I really am, they aren’t able to accept it. So it’s better to push them away when I can.”

“Yet you took a chance with me,” she noted, having his expression gradually turn very serious. “Why?”

“Because we’re both broken and you understand that I’m not always gonna have sunshine and rainbows flooding out of my asshole,” he snorted having her face scrunch up in entertainment over that comment. It made her laugh, but he knew that she realized what he was trying to say. “Plus, I do have to tell you it was way too close with Tommy trying to hook me up with that woman. I had just lost Tess not that long before…”

Surprisingly, it went silent real fast between them both. Before now, Joel had never mentioned her name out loud around Y/N, “Tess was…she was the woman from Boston. I just wasn’t ready for things. And Tommy wanted me to marry Esther off immediately. It was all very strange.”

There were a few directions this conversation could go in. She could talk to Joel about Tess, but by his expression she could tell that he was disappointed in himself for saying her name out loud. So she felt like that really wasn’t the best way to do things. She made a promise to him that she would never push him into talking about things that he wasn’t ready to talk about. And then there was the option of talking about Tommy, but she felt like that could turn to something sad too. So she decided to run with the silly and flippant direction where he wasn’t forced into a situation he was uncomfortable with.

“So what you’re telling me is that there is a strong possibility that this Esther woman may want to stab me in the middle of the street for stealing her man,” she joked eliciting the most amused snort followed by a rumble of laughter from Joel who leaned forward grasping at his mid abdomen through is chuckling. “I’m just saying…”

“I wouldn’t think so, but anything is possible,” he began, happy that she was able to make him laugh in moments where he really needed it. Gathering himself, he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand to sweep the dampness from his laughter away. In that moment though, he thought about Tess and how quickly he blew everything off. “Listen, about Tess...”

“Hey…” she interrupted him, holding her hand up to stop him before he had to go into explaining himself to her. “You don’t have to talk about her because you feel like you have to. Unless it’s something you do want to talk about with me. I just want you to know you don’t have to explain things to me. We have an understanding. I’m not going to force you to talk about things that hurt you. Instead, let’s just focus on playing another round of this, okay?”

“You really want to play again?” Joel mused with her setting the chessboard back up, noticing the glare that she gave him and he let out a small rumble of a laugh. Truthfully? He was thankful that she was as relaxed about things as she was. It made it easier to be with her and not have to worry about things. A lot of people wouldn’t be like that with someone. “I’m just sayin’, we can do other things. Things a little less complicated.”

“Like what?” she finished putting the chessboard back together as Joel reached for his phone where he was quietly playing Christmas music for them to help pass the time. Changing the song, he set his phone back down on the table and sighed loudly. “Do you have any other board games hidden away somewhere? I can’t imagine you would want to play something like truth or dare.”

“Within reason, I wouldn’t mind,” Joel brushed his fingers through his messy hair, sliding forward on the chair he was in. Taking a quick look back over his shoulder he made sure that they were still the only ones in the empty lobby of the inn. When he brought his attention back to her, he saw that she was holding her hands out near the fire to warm them up. “We’ll just have to be quiet and be careful with what we do.”

“How many people are staying at the inn right now?” she wondered, almost expecting Joel to know, but by his expression she knew that he really had no idea. After a while, he released a laugh and shrugged his shoulders. “You really aren’t a good owner.”

“I reckon you’re not wrong,” he realized that she was teasing him, but the statement was true. Joel just did this to appease Tommy so they could work together again. “So go for it. Truth or dare?”

“Truth?” she shrugged her shoulders getting a disappointed face from Joel since she was starting off safe. Really, she couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of dare they could come up with in here. It took a while for Joel to come up with a question before he pulled himself to the edge of his seat and stared out at her behind narrowed eyes.

“What’s your least favorite thing about me physically?” he sighed loudly, getting a grunt of disapproval from her and he laughed. “What?”

“Nothing,” she immediately responded drawing him to roll his eyes and drop back against the chair. Obviously, he expected her to come up with something, but there was nothing that came to mind. “I mean it. Physically, there is nothing wrong with you. I find you very, very appealing. Do you think there is something wrong with you?”

“My scars?” Joel pointed toward his abdomen and the one that was on his face. Almost immediately she shook her head and sighed loudly. “I don’t know then. My patchy facial hair. I can’t grow a full beard. Some women are turned off by an uncut man.”

“Some women are stupid,” she suggested with a scoff, her face twisting with confusion before she let out an amused sound. “I like every part of you. Your scars. Your facial hair. Your penis. They are all part of you and I really like you.”

“Smooth answer. Safe answer. But smooth,” Joel replied back as a warmth flooded into his face hearing her say that about him. “You win brownie points of course for that.”

“I do like my brownie points,” she teased him with a wink liking that the conversation seemed to make him smile. Even if he didn’t want that answer, she knew that hearing her response made him feel good. “Alright, so truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Joel responded bouncing his eyebrows as if that was the more rebellious choice. When truthfully? Joel probably wanted to avoid truth as much as he could because he didn’t know how much or how little he could actually say to her.

“Hmm…” she took her time to think about things before a smirk flooded over her face. “I dare you to sing for me.”

“No,” Joel was quick to shake his head getting a disappointed breath from her.

“You’re not allowed to say no,” she fought back with him hearing the amused laughter that followed. “I’m your girlfriend now, it’s official. So you can sing for me.”

“And the answer is still no,” he chuckled, sliding down in his chair stretching his legs further out. So badly she wanted to hear him sing and he knew that, but that was something he wasn’t going to approach. “You gotta give me something else because that’s a big no.”

“Alright, fine,” she frowned hating that for some reason he was so against singing for her. Shrugging her shoulders, she thought for a long moment until she noticed that the song that was playing from his phone was something that was upbeat. “Dance for me then? Or is that a no too? Because if it’s a no, then I don’t want to play this anymore.”

“Don’t be so sassy,” he hushed with a growl, pushing himself up from the seat and standing from the chair with a grunt. Her eyes followed his movement when he stepped into an area where he would have room. Listening to the song for a moment had her wondering if he would actually dance for her or not. Once he got a feel for the tune, he started dancing for her almost immediately causing her to laugh out. The way he danced was so over the top with the way he moved his body. With most occasions, he wouldn’t be caught dead doing something like this, but he liked hearing her laugh. Biting back a smile, he tried to stay focused while he kept up with the dance. There was only one other person in his life that he would have ever done this for. Hell, he was an old man. He had no business doing shit like this, but to hear her laughter and to see her smiling like she was? It was worth it. Even though he was being dramatic in the way that he moved, he wasn’t actually dancing bad, he was just being silly with the way that he was doing it. Reaching for his jacket, he pulled it down his arms and started to shimmy in front of her provoking her to clap when he finally gave up. “Satisfied?”

“Oh, very,” she responded between tiny giggles. Pulling his jacket back up over his arms, Joel headed back toward his seat and dropped down dramatically. “And you hate dancing? You’re actually not that bad at it.”

“That’s because I was a stripper when I was younger,” he blurt out and by the look that she gave him, he could see she was taking a moment to consider what he was telling her. “I…it was a joke. I wasn’t. My first job was flipping burgers somewhere, then I was a contractor and now I’m the owner of this amazing place.”

“I feel some sarcasm there in that last line,” she teased him and he tipped his head from side to side. It was obvious that Joel liked where he was, but he made it clear it wasn’t a job he was necessarily proud of. “Do you miss being a contractor?”

“You’re cheating at this game,” Joel whistled, holding his hand out and circling his finger in her direction. “I picked dare and ow you’re trying to get a truth out of me. Hell, this would be the second truth since I told you what my first job was.”

“Trying to connect with my boyfriend on a personal level, my mistake,” she held her hands up in defense getting Joel to snicker. “Excuse me.”

“How dare you,” he played back with her, his face scrunching up. A laugh escaped her and it made him smile. At least they could have fun together and not take things so seriously. “But to answer your question, yes and no. I liked being busy, but not being a contractor has given me time to enjoy the little things. Working on guitars. Learning how to carve. Y’know, be more artistic in a smaller scale. My job before was stressful.”

With a nod, she appreciated that he was honest with her, “So you’re turn sweetheart. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she gave him the answer opposite of the last since she knew he was disappointed with her original choice.

Shifting in his chair he took another quick look around the lobby before clearing his throat, “I dare you to flash me.”

“Flash you?” she blurt out with a laugh, biting down on her bottom lip. “Like what? My ass or my breasts?”

“Your breasts,” he held his hand out, a wicked smirk tugging at his handsome features.

“Don’t you guys have cameras in here?” she wondered looking around to see if she could spot one to justify her not doing it. “I’m going to give Tommy a jump scare if he ends up seeing it.”

“Not over here,” he waved his hand in the air, his nose wrinkling with him getting more comfortable in the chair that he was in. “Plus, it’s not like it’s something that he hasn’t seen before.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” she burst out into a laughter that he joined her in recalling what Tommy had walked in on earlier. “The more I get to know your brother, the more I am beginning to realize what a weirdo he is fully capable of being.”

“I told you,” he responded with a smirk, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. Once they stopped laughing, he saw her look around. It looked like she was going to consider telling him no until she reached for the bottom of her shirt. Lifting it up, she managed to pull at the bottom of her bra when she reached it, tugging that up as well to reveal her breasts. A long exhale escaped him with him clearing his throat. God, he’d seen her naked many times at this point, but he was in awe of her body. Allowing him to have a good minute or so, she finally lowered the material back down. What she had done made him smile and she could tell that he was proud of her. “Good girl.”

“Your turn,” she adjusted her bra through the material of her shirt, looking like she was having issues with it until she finally was comfortable again.

“Dare,” he picked the same thing and she swallowed down hard.

“Same dare,” she waved her hand about, feeling justified in asking him to do the same. It only seemed fair after what she had done. Chuckling, he tipped his head down and his dimples became increasingly more prominent.

“That’s a silly dare, but okay,” he sat forward in his chair lifting the bottom of his shirt up to bring it up to the center of his chest to reveal his torso to her. With a dramatic eye roll from her, it had him bursting out in laughter and he feigned innocence. “What? You told me the same dare, so I’m flashing you this…”

Pointing toward his chest had her shaking her head and biting down on her bottom lip, “I was talking about your penis.”

“Well, that’s not what you said. You said you were giving me the same dare. I asked you to flash me your breasts, so I was flashing you my chest. Learn to use your words better dear,” he teased her, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in amusement. Lowering his shirt back down over his body, he took a quick look around and dragged his tongue out across his bottom lip. With a laugh, he arched his eyebrow when his gaze fell back upon her. Working his belt open, he bit down on his bottom lip. Her eyes were focused on his lap as he popped open the button of his jeans. Pulling the zipper down, he knew that this was crazy, but he was willing to do a lot of crazy things for her. Hooking his thumb into the front of the material of his boxer briefs, he tugged down at them. Lifting his hips, he did as she requested exposing himself to her. Color flushed into her face with him clearing his throat. “Is this better?”

“Much,” she breathed out, sucking in a sharp breath of air with Joel smirking.

“You look incredibly turned on and it’s not even hard,” he noted, a rumble of a growl escaping his throat. Dropping his head, he hummed when he tipped his head from side to side. “Well, it’s starting to get hard. With you looking at me like that, he’s getting excited.”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I just really like you,” she reminded him, frowning when he started to work his pants and boxer briefs back over his body.

“Oh, is that the case?” he retorted, his eyebrows bouncing up while he worked his jeans back together along with his belt. “I just really like you too. Are you satisfied?”

“Very,” she admitted realizing that he was arrogant in the moment because he didn’t seem to have a worry in the world about what he had just done. “We’ve suddenly gone from an innocent game to something very naughty.”

“I’m not surprised. That’s what happens when adults play truth or dare,” he snorted, finishing up with his belt. By now her face was hot, her body having a warmth flooding throughout it. “Your turn.”

“Truth,” she responded with him taking a while to consider his next question.

“I’m going to make an assumption about you and you tell me if I’m right or wrong,” he began, stroking his fingers through his messy hair with his eyes narrowing. Something about that drew a curiosity inside of her. “You lost your virginity to your high school boyfriend. You two were childhood sweethearts and the only reason you broke up is because you were going to different colleges across the country.”

“Extremely false,” she shook her head immediately surprising Joel with her answer. “And I won’t tell you what it actually was because you would look down on me for it.”

“Okay, you can’t open with a statement like that and not tell me,” he retorted in a disapproving tone, throwing his hands up. “You have to tell me now and trust me, I wouldn’t think illy of you. I promise you that.”

“You better keep your promise,” she grumbled under her breath as he leaned forward in his seat giving her his full attention. “I had done things, but I didn’t fully lose it until I was eighteen. You have to understand, my uncle kept me locked up like a prisoner most of the time. I don’t know if he was just trying to keep me respectable, or he didn’t want to have to take care of a baby in case I got pregnant. Maybe he just did it because he hated me. It was really hard to date.”

“And why would I judge you for that?” he was confused as to where the whole thought that he would look down on her was.

“I uh…” she paused, showing that she was taking her time to think about whether she wanted to tell him or not what the truth was. “My first time was with my very good-looking physical education teacher who also was my coach.”

“Oh,” he muttered, his eyebrows bouncing up in amusement. Gradually, a rumble of a laugh built up inside of him and he shrugged his shoulders. “I uh, I can’t judge you for that one because I may or may not have slept with a few of my teachers when I was younger. So it’s not like that’s a big deal.”

“You…” she began, her face growing hot with him throwing his hands up. A lot of people had looked down on her for that and most people wouldn’t be that comfortable with a teacher sleeping with their student. Joel being that accepting wasn’t something that she was used to. “There is a big problem with it though. He just…he was…”

“Married?” he finished for her getting her to look down toward the center of her lap. “Again, I don’t know who was married and who wasn’t married. And I lost mine a whole lot younger than you. In the area I lived in, there wasn’t a whole lot for younger folks to do so we’d get in trouble. A lot. I’m not gonna judge you. Plus, you seem to have a type.”

“I do?” her eyebrow quirked and he nodded. “What’s my type.”

“Well, you slept with your coach slash teacher. You were dating the lead surgeon. You are attracted to that kind of power imbalance. Which makes sense. You are strong willed, but you had someone else run your life, so you are attracted to that. And also older men,” he threw out his thoughts glad to see that she wasn’t irritated with him for saying it. “Like me, I’m a switch. Life has kinda been out of my control so I need to be with someone who is capable of being a submissive sometimes for me to be a dominant, but I also need to be with someone who can be my dominant.”

“Good to know,” she commented with a smirk, glad that he wasn’t upset with her for what she said. “To also further your assumption though. I was the one that ended it, not because I was going off to college but because I started to like him too much. And I knew it would lead to nothing good in the end.”

“Hmm…I see,” he slurred, dragging his thumb across his bottom lip. “Not good in bed?”

“Oh no, he was great,” she alerted him, getting him to suck in a sharp breath of air. “Really, really good. He was very arrogant, but within reason.”

“Are you trying to make me jealous?” he wondered, tipping his head to the side releasing a long exhale that made her smile.

“Maybe a little bit?” she teased him, leaning forward to stare out at him with an amused expression. “Pick truth.”

“Go for it,” he did the same thing as her, sliding to the edge of his chair so that he was closer to her.

“If you could change one thing about me, what would it be?” she asked him, surprising him that she went from a very naughty conversation to something that was somewhat serious.

“I’d like for you to think better about yourself,” he whispered, swallowing down hard when her expression changed completely. “You are so strong and the biggest bad ass that I know. You’re not afraid to put people in their place, but your self-esteem is very low because of how the world treated you. I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you. Beautiful. Strong. Unique. Passionate. A pain in the ass, but in the best of ways. And capable of anything. Somehow you managed to make me something I never thought was possible. You’re special. And you should…”

Before he could continue his statement, she leaned forward to brace her hand against the table to steal a kiss from his lips silencing his words. Kissing her back, he hummed against her flesh and smiled when she leaned back and lowered down into her seat again.

“Well, you jumped ahead because that was the dare that I was about to give you. I wanted you to kiss me,” he pointed toward his lips with a weak smile and it made her laugh. “You know what surprised me about you?”

“That you actually ended up liking me?” she joked provoking him to groan and roll his eyes before dropping back against the chair further.

“That even blasted drunk, your talents can match your mouth. You’re a headmaster,” he claimed with an entertained sound when he realized she didn’t know where he was going with that at first. When she knew what he was saying, he couldn’t help but laugh as she gasped. “I’m just sayin’ when people run their mouths about how good at sex they are, they really aren’t all that good. Your last boyfriend was a moron. I’m surprised I’m not completely drained with how much I have come in the last few days.”

“You’ve been storing it for a while,” she countered eliciting a deep, raspy laugh from him since that was not what he was expecting. “I don’t usually run my mouth off like that when I’m not drunk. It’s just when alcohol gets into me…”

“You get arrogant,” he interrupted her, snapping his fingers at her and giving her a wink. “There is nothing wrong with bragging to potential lovers, it’s just when you tell the whole damn town, that’s when there is a problem.”

“I mean if you got it…” she rambled hearing Joel’s growl in response and she licked her lips. “I can make someone last as long or as short as I want them too. It’s just sometimes I like to hand the wheel over to someone else, like I’ve been doing with you. You seem to want to be dominant right now. And I like how it feels. When it’s my turn, you’ll see what I mean.”

“I do enjoy a woman that knows how to climb up on top and take what she wants,” he pat his thigh, motioning her to come over and sit with him. “I am a cowboy after all.”

“Oh, is that right?” she got up from the chair that she was in drawing Joel’s eyebrow to arch when she headed over toward the gift shop. Originally, he thought she was getting up to come and sit in his lap, so he tossed his hand up in the air when she headed the opposite way. Motioning him to wait, she backstepped toward the shop. Taking a look around, she grabbed something and came back with a cowboy hat. With an amused expression, he stared up at her as she approached him. Stepping before him, she placed it in over his head and adjusted it so it fit him correctly. Color flooded into his face with his head tipping back to stare up at her. “It suits you.”

“Ma’am,” he grunted allowing his southern drawl to linger, tipping the hat down slightly. A laugh escaped her lips with him hooking his arm loosely around her waist. Carefully pulling her in over him, he couldn’t help but smile himself when she fell in against his chest. Adjusting her body, she balanced herself in over him, cupping his face tenderly in her hands. Caressing at the backs of her thighs with her knees resting at each side of him, he felt a warmth flooding throughout his body. She was sweeping her thumbs in against the sides of his face, almost calming him with her touch. “You have a cowboy kink, huh?”

“I have a Joel Miller kink. There is just something about you that drives me crazy,” she slurred lowering in closer to bring their lips together in an extended, passionate sweep. With a pleased sound, he tipped his head back and stared out at her with his chocolate brown eyes. “Everything about you appeals to me.”

“As your new boyfriend? I like to hear that,” he hummed, raising his palms up to firmly squeeze at her bottom. Gasping, she tipped the cowboy hat back on his head with his dark eyes locking with hers. One of his hands remained over her ass while the other settled in against the small of her back. “You know what cowboy? I have an idea. Be on watch.”

“Be on watch?” he repeated, visibly unaware of what she meant. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, he felt his body tense up when she cautiously lowered herself between his legs onto the ground. Grunting, he pulled forward with her tugging him toward the edge of the seat. Nervously gazing around, he half laughed when she started pulling apart his belt. “We are in public you know. Someone could show up.”

“This late?” she spoke as her hands started to work apart his jeans getting the zipper down. With a huff, he tried to come up with an answer and shrugged his shoulders. “In all of your time working here has anyone ever come down here at night or arrived after midnight?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, his eyelids growing heavy when she tugged his pants down in the front just enough for her to reach for the waistband of his boxer briefs. Wincing out, he huffed when the contrast of the cool air surrounded his revealed flesh. “I mean it was only you, but with my luck…”

“We’re in the back, no one is going to see as long as you pay attention,” she alerted him, palming at his manhood getting his eyes to flutter to a close. Easily his length was warming up beneath her touch and he choked. “Just listen and make sure we don’t get caught.”

“I don’t know if this is…” he started to speak watching her head lower down and when the warmth of her mouth surrounded his semi erect cock it had his head tipping back against the chair. All of his responsibilities and worries escaped him in that moment. Closing his eyes, his strength to fight was simply gone while she easily got him rigid in no time with the way her tongue and mouth worked to pleasure him. “This is crazy.”

Licking his lips, he opened his eyes again and took a look around to make sure they were still all alone. Truthfully? It was hard to focus with her giving him a blowjob. Did he focus on her? Did he focus on the inn? Even though there was a sense of panic there, it wasn’t enough for him to get her to stop. If they were caught, it really depended on the person who found them what would happen. Most of the town liked him, but there were some that definitely were not fans of him.

“Fuck me,” he winced, his fingers shaking when he lowered his hand and placed it faintly over the center of her back to caress over her shoulders. Allowing her to take the reins on this whole thing, he couldn’t believe that he was actually letting her do this. They had suggested they would do something so much more public than this, but he never really thought they would follow through with it. Then again? They almost did something like this at The Tipsy Bison and they may have if Tommy didn’t interrupt them. Everything about this was honestly a major turn on for him though. Whether it was the set up with them being in the lobby near a warm fireplace or the fact it was possible someone could walk in at any moment, it had him incredibly enthusiastic with what she was doing. Having her pleasuring him like this allowed him to really get a sense of just how good she was with his body. Really, he prided himself on being able to last a significant amount of time when it came to things, but with the way her mouth was moving over him he could tell that she was working him right up to that moment of pure euphoria. And right when it felt like he was going to come, he was quickly stopped. Even though he was trying to be silent, a raspy moan escaped his throat and his fingers cupped at the back of her head. What she was doing was proving a point in bringing him to almost orgasming, edging him just perfectly and then stopping him right when he felt like he was about to come undone. Stroking his fingers at the back of her neck, he grunted and did his best to hold it together. “I’m not sure it’s the best idea for you to be dragging this out.”

Instead of listening to him, he kept up with her movements sticking with the steady pace she had set. Noticeably, she was validating what she had said in the bar that night when she was drunk. She was capable of controlling his pleasure. How easily she was edging him and bringing him right to the brink of an orgasm but then quickly halting it was driving him crazy. And she kept doing it.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he groaned out, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. In that moment, every part of his body was on fire and it felt like the room was spinning around him. A wet popping sound followed when she pulled her mouth from his rigid cock. Stroking her fingers over the length of his erection caused his breathing to grow louder and broken. Smirking, she pressed a delicate kiss against the shaft drawing forth another delicious low rumble of a moan from his throat. “Do I have to dare you to allow me to come? Or would you rather me beg?”

“I don’t know,” she exhaled, a wicked smirk tugging at her lips while her hand unhurriedly caressed at his saliva covered manhood. Testing the flesh in her grasp had a muscle twitching at the corner of his jaw with him sucking in a sharp breath of air. “Hearing you beg would be very sexy.”

“You are such a greedy girl,” he grumbled, reaching out to drag his thumb across her wet bottom lip. The sensation caused her eyes to flutter to a close and he growled out. “Please, would you allow me to come?”

“How do you want it?” she stammered, her eyes coming to a slow open while she continued to tease her fingertips up and over his throbbing ache. Focusing at the tip had his hips bouncing up toward her touch with him letting out something that resembled a whimper that made her smile. “Do you want to rush this or do you want to live out the closest we ever will to a fantasy of ours?”

“Meaning…?” his right eyebrow quipped, his head tipping to the side when she stood up slowly. A worried breath escaped him until he saw her turning away from him. Swallowing down hard, he watched as she managed to push her pants down slowly. Clearing his throat, he shifted in the chair and worked to push his pants down lower realizing where this was going. Reaching out, he hooked his right arm around her waist. With his left, he grabbed a hold of his cock and helped her lower down in over him. The movement was slow with her grasping at his thighs to brace herself as her warmth enveloped him, leaving her with that same addictive stretching feeling. Once she bottomed out, she paused to experience the full sensation. Joel’s palm pressed in over her lower abdomen while his left hand grasped at her hip. Burying his nose against the side of her neck, he peppered kisses against her flesh and heard her panting. “You are so fucking naughty.”

Wincing, he felt her fingertips digging into his thighs when she started to lift her hips up just slightly before lowering them again. Taking another quick look back, he made sure that they were alone. Yeah, this probably wasn’t something they should have been doing, but they were addicted to one another. Right now? They were having a hell of a time keeping their hands off one another. Pretty quickly, her movements went from slow to her rocking herself back against him in swift, firm movements.

When he told her that he liked having a woman that dominated him, she was taking that very seriously with the way she took control of this moment. Watching, he hummed at the way her body bounced over his taking him in time and time again. By how sensitive he already was with her overstimulating him with the blowjob previously, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to last long. But he was pretty sure that’s where she was headed with all of this. Each movement of her hips over his was confident and steady leaving the smacking of their skin filling the area around them.

Squeezing tighter to her hip, he felt his body tensing up and she no doubt caught onto the throbbing of his cock inside of her because her movements over him grew faster and harder. Worried about her, his hand dropped down between her thighs to caress at her clit hoping to get her off at the same time as him. What was supposed to be the two of them being quiet wasn’t very quiet at all. Biting into his bottom lip, he had to silence himself when his hips bounced up toward her with the first hint of his release. Muted groans filled the air, his caress over her body more determined while she continued to move over him until she hit her orgasm as well. Lifting his hand up, he covered her mouth when she fell back against his chest. Nipping at the side of her neck, he winced when she rolled her hips over him a few final times.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he chuckled against her jawline, groaning out with the way her tight canal still contracted around him after her orgasm. Hooking his arm around her waist, he pressed tender kisses over the side of her neck and in over her jawline.

“We don’t want that,” she hushed him, whimpering when she shakily pulled herself up from him and quickly pulled her pants back up over her body. Grunting, Joel was quick to get his pants back up and while he worked together his belt he noticed that she was staring at the clock. “Why don’t we go to my room?”

“I’m supposed to be working,” he reminded her, dragging his tongue out across his bottom lip. Right now his heart was still hammering inside of his chest and his body felt like it was on an incredible high. Adjusting the cowboy hat she placed over his head, he cleared his throat and growled. “What happens if someone shows up or wakes up and needs something?”

“Has that happened often around this time of the year?” she lowered back down to sit in his lap. Stroking her fingers against the side of his face had him humming out with a smirk. Sinking her fingers into his graying, dark hair she caressed her fingertips at his scalp and he tipped his head to look back at her with awe. “We can sneak you out, get you back down here by the time someone is supposed to switch with you.”

“Like I said, only one time we’ve had someone show up late,” he responded with a wrinkle of his nose. “And that was you.”

“No one is crazy like me, so then you should be okay,” she suggested, smiling at the way that he chuckled at her trying to get him to play hooky. “I’m the one person silly enough to show up in the middle of the night near Christmas time.”

“Touché, but Tommy would kill me if he found out I left the place empty to go run off with you,” he suggested, snorting at the way she dramatically shrugged her shoulders. “If someone showed up during the middle of the night, he would never let me live it down.”

“I think you’ll be okay,” she hushed, stealing a quick kiss from his lips. Standing up from his lap, her legs still felt like Jell-O as she reached her hand out for his. Taking a moment to think out his options, he sighed loudly and then accepted her hand. Allowing her to pull him up from the seat, he followed her to the stairs and made sure that no one was around. “It doesn’t hurt to be the rebel sometimes.”

“You have no idea,” he grumbled, moving swiftly to pick her up in his arms causing her to gasp out when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to keep herself from falling. Laughing, he was quick to finish getting up the stairs and he moved for the bedroom. “I have a feeling I would do just about anything you asked me to.”

“Unless it’s having you sing for me,” she reminded him with a frown, her fingers playing with the tiny curls of hair at the back of his neck that was exposed beneath the cowboy hat. “But I’ll get you to sing for me one day.”

“Not a chance,” his nose wrinkled with him chuckling in amusement while he fumbled to get the door opened to her suite. “But you can keep trying if it makes you happy.”

----

Loud knocking sounds filled the air with Y/N’s head tiredly lifting from her pillow. Behind heavy eyelids, it took her a minute to gather herself when she realized by the rays of the sunshine that were flooding into her room that it must have been morning. Yawning, she still felt incredibly tired with the warmth of Joel’s arms wrapped around her with him sleeping behind her. Since being here, she realized that she was actually capable of having a good night’s sleep. She just needed Joel to make her feel relaxed and comfortable for once in her life.

Going to lay her head back down, she let out a frustrated breath when the sound of the knocking continued. At this point? She wondered how long the knocking had gone on because it sounded very aggressive. Huffing out, she looked back over her shoulder to see that Joel was still deep in sleep. His breathing was loud and he couldn’t have been bothered by the sounds of the knocking. Right now, he needed his sleep and she knew that.

Managing to get out of his arms without waking him, she reached for his shirt that they had deposited on the floor the night before. Pulling it up over her arms, she worked together the buttons as she made her way toward the door. Joel’s shirt was just long enough to cover her naked form and she assumed that would be more than enough at the moment to figure out whatever the hell was going on.

Stumbling over a few things, she realized that she was still exhausted and barely awake. Bracing her hand against the wall, she allowed it to help her make it to the door before she finally undid the locks. Opening the door, she gasped when someone pushed through and she let out a frustrated sound seeing that Tommy was standing at the center of her sitting room.

“Please Tommy, why don’t you come in?” she huffed, holding her hand up to gesture him coming into the room before closing the door with a grunt. By the time she gazed upon Tommy’s expression she could see that he was irritated with his hands resting at his hips. “Can I help you?”

“I need to speak with my brother,” Tommy explained, his eyebrows furrowing with his jaw clenching. Noticing that he was angry, she folded her arms in front of her chest and tipped her head to the side.

“What makes you think your brother is here?” she questioned knowing that Joel was sleeping and he deserved to have time to relax.

“I just know and if I didn’t…” Tommy paused to point out at her to circle her body to bring her attention to the fact that she was wearing Joel’s shirt. “I’m pretty sure that’s all I would need to know that my brother is in your bedroom right now.”

Going to move around her, Tommy grunted when she pressed her hands firmly into the center of his chest to get him to back up, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. This is one of those moments Tommy where I need to put my foot down and tell you to knock it off. You are the co-owner of this inn so that does give you some rights, but right now you’re in my room. You pushed your way through and now you’re trying to charge into my bedroom right now where your brother is sleeping. Your brother has a very hard time sleeping so…”

“I respect you and understand you’re right that I shouldn’t have barged in,” Tommy acknowledged, interrupting her speech while holding his hand up in the air to get her to stop. “But this is a moment where it cannot wait and truthfully? I reckon the both of you should hear what I have to say anyways.”

“The hell is goin’ on?” the sound of Joel’s tired voice was heard and they both looked toward the door of the bedroom. Standing in the doorway, Joel was leaning against the doorframe. His hand was holding the sheet that he had pulled with him over himself to keep his naked body covered, but hardly. It made her face flush over and she looked to Tommy who rolled his eyes. “Why are you comin’ in here guns blazing little brother? Aren’t you supposed to be gone on your trip?”

“I needed to talk to you first,” Tommy asserted with Joel huffing out and working to wrap the sheet around his waist. “I don’t even know where to start with you Joel. I asked you to do one thing last night and that was your job. I needed you to stay out there until seven. That was when Jesse was goin’ to show up and then you could have taken off. But what do you think Jesse told me when I showed up this morning?”

“I don’t know, but I reckon it wasn’t much cus’ that boy don’t complain about anything,” Joel retorted with a huff, folding his arms in front of his naked chest. “But why don’t you let me know whatever it is you’re angry about so I can go back to bed for a few hours.”

“He told me that you weren’t there when he got here,” Tommy explained causing Joel to nod slowly and swallow down hard. “And then I got to thinking, I wonder when Joel decided to take off. So I checked the cameras. Do y’know how long you kept the lobby empty Joel?”

“Did someone show up?” he inquired, throwing his right hand up realizing that Y/N appeared to look like she was feeling guilty for making him play hooky with her. The color left Tommy’s features when he sucked in a sharp breath of air and dropped his head. “No, right? So why are you here lecturing me? No one stole nothin’. No one needed help.”

“For fuck’s sake Joel, it’s the idea,” Tommy stressed to Joel, shifting on his feet angrily. Huffing out, he looked between the two of them and let out an irritated breath. “I support the two of you getting together, I do. I want that for you. I am the most excited person here for it,” Tommy defended himself, reaching up to place his hand over the center of his chest to express his emotions, “but you can’t just run off like that. What if someone would have shown up? What if Jesse wouldn’t have made it to his shift?”

“But that didn’t happen,” Joel reasoned with Tommy, grunting out at the idea that his brother was so upset. “I did it once Tommy. On Christmas Eve when I knew we would be okay. I’m co-owner of this inn and I think I know what I’m doin’ little brother. Everything worked itself out and…”

“Do y’know what woulda happened if Maria made it here first? If she checked the tapes?” Tommy hushed Joel, continuing to lecture him when he then looked to Y/N to include her in this moment. “I had to delete video footage from last night and I sure as hell hope Maria don’t notice.”

Choking, Joel felt a heat flooding into his face with the glare that Y/N gave him when she looked back over her shoulder, “When did we uh, when did we…” Joel paused realizing that his brother must have seen what they had done by the expression over his face, “When did we put cameras over there? Because as far as I remembered, I thought we only had them at the entrances, the stairs and the hallways near the bar and restaurant.”

“After we rented out the ballroom and that fight started. Remember how they broke some of our things?” Tommy reminded Joel who let out a long exhale when realization struck him. “I’m gonna have to get a new chair now.”

“Well, to be fair we didn’t make a mess,” Joel defended getting a gasp to escape Y/N and he held his hand out as if to apologize. “I’m just saying, it’s not like anything got on the chair. He’s acting like the chair needs to be set ablaze. You can’t tell me that people haven’t had sex in our inn Tommy. And we ain’t setting the beds on fire. People have sex.”

“What if someone would have caught you Joel?” Tommy reasoned with his brother who still didn’t seem to be too worried. “And what about you? What if you would have been arrested for being caught doing something like that in public? Would your job be okay with it?”

“We’re doin’ a whole lot of what ifs right now and I think you need to relax,” Joel stressed stepping forward to reach out to place his hand in over Y/N’s shoulder to get her to realize that she didn’t need to respond to Tommy. “I appreciate that you deleted the footage and I’ll take into consideration what you’re saying to me.”

“I don’t mean to be rude Joel, but how did the two of you even have it in you to come back up here and continue what you were doing down there? You’re an old man,” Tommy blurt out, embarrassing Joel who grunted out showing that he was uneasy with what Tommy was saying. “Do you know how long what the two of you did last night lasted?”

“Do you?” Y/N snapped, her eyes getting big with Tommy looking to her with an uncomfortable expression. “You watched the video?”

“I didn’t watch it, but I had to scroll through in order to delete things,” Tommy reasoned with her, tipping his head from side to side while attempting to think of what to say next. “And I’m just saying the time stamp was quite a while. I’m surprised he has any body fluids left inside of him.”

“Are we done here?” Joel scoffed, the tension clearly visible in his body from being lecture by his little brother. “I reckon we’re both happy that you deleted the video. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed in us for fooling around, but we don’t regret what we did nor do I wish it didn’t happen. Yes, I’m old. But for the first time in a long time, I’m happy. And I would think that’s something you would want for me.”

That had Tommy going silent and the emotions on his face completely change. Instead of being angry and combative, it seemed like Tommy actually felt guilty for coming in here to lecture them, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Silence followed. No one else knew what to say as Joel kept his stare locked on his younger brother who seemed like he was thoroughly upset with himself, “Just be a little more careful, okay?”

“We’ll do our best,” she responded, moving in beside Joel who loosely wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in closer to him. “Maybe you can go a little easy on us too. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Tommy breathed out, reaching up to brush his long hair back behind his ear. After a moment, it was obvious that Tommy felt out of place and weird standing in the middle of her sitting room and he shifted on his feet. “Maria is probably waiting for me and I should go. I will see the two of you tomorrow?”

“That was the plan,” Joel replied, swallowing down hard when Tommy gave him a small nod. Heading for the door, Joel called out to Tommy having him stop when he started to open the door. “Have a good Christmas Eve with Maria, Tommy.”

“Thank you,” Tommy gave them a final nod before leaving them alone in the room together.

“I am so sorry,” she immediately apologized, turning to look at Joel as she placed her hand in over the center of her chest. “You knew how Tommy would react and I’m the one that convinced you to play hooky in order to spend time with me.”

“I’m not sorry,” he declared with a huff, standing up straighter from where he was in the doorway. Stretching out his body, he let out a grunt and could see her eyes gazing upon the lengths of his naked torso. “You heard Tommy. Nothing bad happened. No one showed up. He was just throwing a fit to throw a fit. It’s probably a payback thing for all the years I had to play father for him when he was getting in trouble. He wants to be able to do it to me now.”

“Fair enough,” she stepped before him, reaching out to place her hand in over the center of his chest. Instinctively, his hands settled at her hips and he sighed loudly with his dark eyes gazing down upon her. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about the cameras though. I am going to have the hardest time looking your brother in the eye knowing that he has seen me naked more than some of my actual dates have.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. He’s very much in love with his wife, so it’s not something he will be focusing on,” he insisted with a huff, lowering down enough to press his forehead in against hers. “He’ll be doing his best to erase it from his memory. That’s one thing I can promise you. The last thing he wants to think about is another woman, especially considering he has had to see me naked plenty too.”

Pressing a tender kiss against her temple, Joel hummed and wrapped her up in his arms, “Do you have any plans today?”

“Considering I know so many people here in town…” she started, tipping her head back enough to lock eyes with him drawing out a tired smirk from him.

“So that means you wouldn’t mind spending Christmas Eve with me then?” he confirmed getting an immediate nod from her. Smirking, he leaned down and peppered playful kisses against her lips. “Good, because I already made plans for us today. And hopefully, you like them.”

----

Tags: @jdmorganz @carolineesnell @ayumi-wolf @dilfsandmartinis @christinamadsen

@brittmb115 @thegirlwiththemostcake3 @ashleyfilm

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller Smut #The Last of Us #The last of Us fanfiction #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #Tommy Miller #Christmas in Jackson #Joel Miller imagine

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asapeveryday · 9 months ago

Text

NEVER THE BRIDE

Oikawa Toru x Reader

Your best friend is getting married and it’s starting to seem like you’ll never get to have that experience. The grooms best man serves as a reminder…or perhaps a change.

INHALE, EXHALE. You’re starting to feel a normal beat, a comfortable rhythm in your breathing as you coax these two words to yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your tears have mostly dried, your makeup has been touched up, your eyes are only slightly red-rimmed.

Inhale, exhale. You haven’t cried this erratically since your high school boyfriend broke up with you. The idea seems so small and irrelevant now compared to all the adult troubles you’ve experienced so far.

Inhale, exhale. Today is the best day of your best friends life thus far. She is legally entwined with a man she’s in love with, she’s going to spend the rest of her days next to him, working through every obstacle and celebrating every achievement. She’s not just your friend anymore, she’s someone’s wife, and soon enough she’ll be someone’s mother.

Inhale, exhale. You feel your stomach lurch as you exit the washroom and spot him at your table, laughing, joking, celebrating the love his own friend Hajime has found in your best friend. You can feel a billion memories stampede any prior attempts to stay collected.

Being next to the bride just hours earlier at the ceremony was colourful and exciting. Being her maid of honour cemented the depth of your friendship even more, even though you had been fighting this nagging feeling that she was leaving you behind. You could stay positive, all you had to do was avoid his gaze as he stood across from you, beside the groom.

When the vows were being read it became apparent just how much he was staring at you, as if begging, no, challenging you to look at his face.

To have and to hold from this day forward.

He clenched his jaw ever so slightly when your eyes flitted to his.

For better, for worse,

You held his gaze despite the growing, gnawing feeling of yearning inside of you at the memory of watching him outgrow your love.

for richer, for poorer,

He shifted on his feet, undoubtedly remembering the many arguments money once caused you two.

in sickness and in health,

The sight of his pale skin accumulating an embarrassed blush that you often saw when he would catch a cold after training outside for too long flashed through your mind.

to love and to cherish,

He practically winced at these words spoken. His face was tense, uncomfortable, but un breaking under your stare. Had he cherished you?

till death do us part.

Words you had wished you’d been able to utter, staring him in the face like you were then…only under different circumstances.

Snapping back to reality, you shake off the residual sadness as best as you can before returning to your table where your problem resides.

“Having fun?” He says, turning to look at you as you sit down.

“Plenty.” You respond curtly. “I’ve been rooting for my girl and Hajime since day one.”

“So have I.” He responds, though the far-away look in his eyes makes you shiver. He’s analyzing you in this awful way, searching for any hidden feelings. You used to hate it when you were together.

“Quit staring at me, Oikawa.” You mutter, and he’s taken aback for a moment.

“Oikawa?” He says, eyebrows furrowed. “Toru. Please, call me Toru.”

“You stopped being Toru a while ago.” You scoff, turning your head. He doesn’t say anything. Even when the table slowly empties into the dance floor and there’s nobody else to distract from the tension, neither of you say anything at all.

You find yourself looking at the mass of people, couples and friends spinning and dancing, laughing and crying tears of joy. You’ve witnessed the same scene over and over again throughout the past year, and you’ve become more and more ashamed with each wedding you’ve attended. Not too long ago you had thought one of these weddings would be yours.

“Does it still bother you?”

You jerk your head towards the voice. “What?”

“Er, does it still hurt you. The weddings.” Oikawa says quietly. You remember now that he was aware, that you had told him about how left behind you felt. You also remember thinking he might be the one to resolve your problem.

“What do you think?” You finally say, turning your body towards him. “Everyone is settling down and I’m alone. All of those weddings this past year, alone? Yeah, it still hurts.”

“You weren’t alone for all of those weddings.” He says, almost too quickly, though you can tell he regrets it. You can feel anger bubbling inside of you regardless. Oikawa had been your plus one almost every time.

“I might as well have been.” You snap. “Or else I would’ve been tied down by now.”

A beat passes. You’re looking down, playing with the plastic table coverings. You know he’s looking straight at you.

“I’m sorry.” He says, soft and considerate. A tone that once soothed you.

“Don’t be.” You say. “You chose your career and it worked. Plus, we would’ve never made it through that, not with your travelling to all these foreign countries, with foreign women and…” you trail off, feeling embarrassed. He wasn’t able to give you what you wanted: stability. It wasn’t in his schedule. He needed to take risks to ensure his place in the world was set, not as your husband, but as an athlete.

“You’re not the only one who’s hurt by weddings.” Oikawa says. You just look up, hoping he elaborates.

“Me n’ Iwa used to always say we’d have a double wedding.” He chuckles, though it’s slightly hollow. “I remember thinking it wouldn’t work out. He always said I’d probably beat him to it, me being a bit of a ladies man in school and all.” He mumbles the last bit under his breath.

“It’s, uhm. It’s just embarrassing. Looking back at how I just assumed love would come so easily to me. And here I am at his wedding. He found someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with before I even managed to establish my career. He found someone he loves.” He finishes.

“And you?” You ask just above a whisper. Oikawa sucks in a breath before meeting your eyes.

“I did too. But I threw it away.”

You hold your breath as you look at him, face warming and body honing a shell shocked buzz. You hold the brunette boys gaze for what seems like ages before one of the bridesmaids comes to your table.

She tells you and Oikawa that the best friends of the bride and groom should be on the dance floor, pulling you and him with each hand and patting you on the back when you glare at her. You awkwardly walk behind him, weaving between masses of white clothed tables to reach the space in the middle of the venue, it’s packed with people and concentrated with upbeat music.

The party music fades to a more somber tune as you and Oikawa enter the crowd. The bride and groom have already had the first dance, so this dance is obviously meant for any other couples. You watch as children and singles filter out, though many friends stay back for the fun of it. You glance around search for someone else to be with during the song when Oikawa turns around to face you.

His hand is held out to yours in an invitation that makes your heart both swell and ache. You stare at his calloused palms and extended fingers in a moment of contemplation, but when he utters a quiet “please” You finally slip your hand in his.

One hand gingerly finds the small of your waist while the other holds your own. His thumb grazes soothing strokes on the skin of your hand and you can feel him looking at your face with such intensity, likes he’s memorizing your features.

You haven’t been this close to Oikawa in ages, you haven’t been handled so softly in just as long. You forgot about the stray sunspots on his face, about the way his ears grow pink when flustered, about how he takes you in so completely. Dancing with him is reminding you of so many beautiful things you’ve forgotten.

“I want you back.” He says.

“If your best friend wasn’t getting married before you would you have still wanted me back?” You quip.

“Forget about Iwa. I wanted you back the minute it ended.”

You glare at him as the two of you slowly spin through the floor. His expression is serious, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tight-lipped.

“I don’t know if I can take another disappointment.” You say. “Not from you, not from anybody.”

You inhale, you exhale. Surprisingly he does too. Your palm is starting to sweat, though he doesn’t pull away. Your breathing is in sync with his.

“I missed you, Toru.” You sigh. Your voice wavers at the confession, but his eyes sparkle at the use of his given name, at the reciprocation of his feelings.

“I’ve wanted to hear that for so long.” He smiles with relief.

“And I’ve wanted to wear white. And be with someone who’ll be mine for the rest of my life.” You respond, frowning. “I don’t know if you can manage that.”

He thinks for a moment, eyes trained on yours still as if it would kill him to look away. He smells like the apartment you two once shared, like the past and something more new and mature.

“Back then I probably couldn’t.” He admits, a small and ashamed smile pulling at his lips. “But I know I can now.”

Inhale, exhale. The song is ending soon, and you’ll be back to your table. You can say no and never be this close to him again, or you can say yes and fight for a chance to be more than a bridesmaid someday.

“I’ll need time.” You finally decide. “And commitment for real this time.”

The music fades and couples begin to part ways. Toru’s hand leaves your waist but his other stays entwined with yours. “All yours.” He says, and you can feel that he means it.

#fanfiction #fanfic #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq oikawa #oikawa torū #toru oikawa #oikawa toru x reader

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wannab-urs · 1 year ago

Text

Scandal

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Prompt: Forced Proximity + “You’re going to get us arrested” / “I always wanted to see you in handcuffs.”

Summary: You get locked in a closet with Dieter at the Oscars

Warnings: semi public smut; forced proximity; reader has hair that can have bobby pins in it, is able bodied, is wearing a dress, and is an actress; the barest hint of enemies to lovers, but not really. WC: 1.6k

A/N: Written for a Dieter Bravo Brainrot Server event. Thanks to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @atinylittlepain, and @pr0ximamidnight for reading it for me <3

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You just need to take a breather, that’s all. The Oscars can be a lot for an actress with social anxiety – there’s a million directors, former costars, and producers all vying for a conversation with you, not to mention the cameras catching you from every angle. And to make matters worse, they’ve allowed paparazzi into the lobby this year.

There’s a coat closet just down this hallway, if you can just remember which door it is. You walk down the ornate hallway and find a door cracked open just slightly, the smell of weed emanating from the gap. You push the door open and step in, closing it tightly behind you. And you should have known from the smell alone who you’d find on the other side.

None other than Dieter Bravo.

“Shouldn’t have closed the door.”

“And you shouldn’t be smoking in here. You’re stinking up everyone’s coats.”

“No, you really shouldn’t have closed the door. We’re locked in now.”

“What?” Your voice hits a high frequency. You do not want to be locked in a closet with this particular former costar. You try the door anyway and find that he’s telling the truth.

“I told you.”

“Fuck, Dieter. You could have warned me!”

He chooses not to respond, taking another hit of his joint instead. He holds his hand out in offering, but you shake your head. Being high and trapped sounds like a recipe for paranoid disaster.

You slump to the floor, pouting, but grateful they gave you a dress you can actually move around in this year. Dieter sits cross legged across the closet from you. There are coats lining either side of the walls.

His usually fluffy curls are slicked back and styled to perfection. His nasty green bathrobe and pajama pants have been replaced by a billowing white shirt and fitted black pants. He’s even wearing real shoes. He looks… good. And he’s surprisingly clear eyed for someone smoking an entire joint.

“You look nice,” Dieter comments. You look down at your dress – the color was chosen specifically to contrast well with your skin tone. The cut shows just enough bust and highlights your body shape. It’s a good dress.

“Thanks, Dee. I was just thinking the same about you.”

“Oh were you now?”

You roll your eyes. “Not like that, Dieter. You just clean up nice, is all.”

“I’m not um…” he trails off.

“Not on coke anymore? I can tell.”

You and Dieter had worked on a project together a couple years ago. It was in the height of his coke addiction and working with him had been an absolute nightmare. He’d show up for work absolutely out of his mind, having screaming matches with the director, the producers, you. And that was if he showed up at all. The project had never even made it to production, leaving you worried your career was ruined. You fucking hated Dieter Bravo.

But you could never deny how adorable he is.

“Yeah. Cleaned up. Went to rehab. The whole shebang.”

“That’s good, Dee. Really.”

You let your head fall back against the door, exposing the line of your throat to possibly the world's horniest man.

“You look really good in that dress.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you.”

You peek an eye open and see Dieter is already halfway across the floor, crawling to you on his hands and knees. He’s pouting at you.

“What else do we have to do right now?”

You sigh and try the door one more time for good measure, reaching up behind you and tugging on the door handle. Still locked tight. Dieter grins and crawls even closer, settling between your thighs. He reaches out and strokes his thumb across your cheek. You can’t help but lean into it.

“Always thought you were so beautiful.”

“Sure, Dee,” you scoff

“I did. I do. Can I kiss you?”

“Sure, Dee,” you whisper breathlessly.

He presses his lips to yours gently at first. His lips are soft and plush against yours and you can’t help but deepen the kiss. You open your mouth and his tongue meets yours, hot and wet. Arousal sweeps through you and you bury your hands in his gorgeous curls, holding him against you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. You gasp, causing the kiss to break as your core comes into contact with the hard line of his cock in his trousers.

“So fucking beautiful,” Dieter mutters into your throat, pressing kisses down into your cleavage.

He lays you flat on the floor and scoots back, settling on his belly in between your thighs and rucking your dress up to your hips.

“Dieter, you’re going to get us arrested for public indecency.”

“First of all, I’ve always wanted to see you in handcuffs,” he presses a kiss to your left thigh. “And secondly, I don’t see anyone here to catch us,” he kisses your right thigh, higher up this time.

He hooks his thumb in the gusset of your panties, stroking your already soaked folds. You moan as quietly as you can.

“So wet for me, already.”

You groan as he pulls your panties to the side and buries his face in your cunt. There’s no build up, he eats you like he’s ravenous, like he hasn’t eaten in days. His curved nose grinds into your clit as he laps at your hole. His tongue plunges inside you over and over and you can already feel your core tightening. He slips two fingers in to replace his tongue, drawing circles on your clit with the point of it now. You cry out, much louder than you mean to be, than you need to be. His left hand comes up to cover your mouth, his face now hovering above yours as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you.

“Quiet now, love. Wouldn’t want to get arrested for public indecency.”

The bastard. He thrusts his fingers into you a few more times and you’re coming all over his hand. You bite down on his palm to keep from screaming. He draws his fingers out of you slowly and rights your panties for you. He sucks your come off his fingers like it’s cake batter, letting out a little moan of his own at the taste.

The door handle jiggles and you both freeze. Just as the lock turns, Dieter grabs you and rolls you both under the lowest level of coats on the side of the closet. You’re on top of him, breathing heavily into his neck. Someone comes in, grabs their coat, and leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind them.

Dieter goes to roll you both back out but you stop him. You press a kiss to his very exposed throat.

“I love this shirt. Very Mr. Darcy.”

“It is romantic isn’t it?”

You drag your lips down his throat to his chest, pressing a kiss to the lowest bit of exposed skin. Your hands find the clasp on his fancy black pants, but you can’t quite get them open.

“The one time you don’t wear easy access pants…”

“Here, let me.”

You both fumble for a moment before the clasp finally comes open and his cock springs out.

“No underwear?”

“The lines were showing too bad.”

“Mmhmm,” you quirk an eyebrow at him.

You wrap his cock in your hand. It’s long, curved a little, and not terribly thick.

“Pretty,” you mutter before taking the tip in your mouth. He gasps as you suck him down. You swirl your tongue around his head, then flatten it out and let him fill your mouth. He hits the back of your throat and you suppress a cough, pushing him further down. His hands flutter into your hair as you start bobbing your head, sucking him down over and over again. He doesn’t push or pull you, simply rests his hands on the back of your head.

You pull off him and lick a stripe up the seam of his balls as you stroke his cock. You suck one into your mouth, rolling it gently on your tongue, then switch to the other.

“I’m gonna–”

You take his cock down your throat again, wanting to swallow his cum. You suck hard on the tip and then drop your lips down to the base as he comes in your mouth. His hips stutter beneath you and he groans.

You let his softening cock fall out of your mouth and press a kiss to his hip bone. He strokes the back of your head reverently.

“We should get cleaned up,” you whisper, your voice rough.

Dieter sighs, but helps you get back to your feet. You take in his rumpled appearance and know you can’t look much better. His chest is covered in lipstick, as is his face. His hair is an absolute mess. His outfit is askew and wrinkled to hell.

You help him fix his outfit, rub the lipstick off his skin, and finger comb his hair back into some semblance of a style. He pulls bobby pins out of your hair and stows them in his pockets, letting your hair down from the hours of work the stylist did. He smooths out your dress as best as he can.

“We look…”

“Like we just fucked on the floor of a closet?”

“Yeah.”

He takes a bobby pin from his pocket and picks the lock on the door.

“You could have done that the whole time?”

Dieter doesn’t answer. He stands and takes your hand in his and pulls the door open. You’re immediately inundated with camera flashes. The paparazzi have found you. Your agent is going to kill you.

“I fucking hate you,” you halfheartedly fuss at Dieter. This scandal will be fun to deal with...

#Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo fics #Dieter Bravo fanfiction #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #The Bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo x f!reader

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silenzahra · 6 months ago

Text

⚡ An electrical aura ⚡

Ah, it feels so good to be back with a new story after so long! 😌

As I mentioned here, in this fic you will find one of my favorite topics to consume in any kind of fanwork:

✨⚡ Protective Luigi ⚡✨

I would've liked to post this story a couple of days ago to coincide with Mario and Luigi's birthday (even though the story has nothing to do with the date itself) as a way of celebrating their bond as brothers that we all love and adore so much 🥹💚❤️

Still, I'm glad I can share it now as this is one of the many fanfics I've been planning to write... for more than a year 😶

And at long last, here it is! 😄

@pepperycar @bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @megamagimugi @peaches2217 @zocchini37 @itsavee4117 @multicolour-ink @dragon-fly34 @eleventhhourfactor @stripetkattelalala54-gf @kelbreyworshipper @doodleydoo101 @c-lavanda and anyone else who might be interested: hope you enjoy! 💖

And as always: you can keep reading under the cut if you'd like! 👇

(Please remember that likes, comments, kudos, reblogs and any kind of feedback is always more than welcome 🥰)

EDIT (29-3-2025): Should've edited this post earlier to add that I wrote a second chapter for this, this one from Mario's perspective, and it can also be found on AO3! ❤️

⚡ An electrical aura ⚡

TW: Blood, violence (not too much though)

Luigi doesn't like being separated from his brother.

It was hard enough having to leave him behind when he got sick to go in search of the antidote. Luigi swallows as he remembers how scared he was when he saw Mario's skin turn green after consuming that strange mushroom and how his feet practically flew to the Mushroom Kingdom embassy, carrying his twin in his arms, to take him to the princess and try to get him help.

This time, however, at least Luigi has the comfort and relief of knowing that his brother is safe, even if he’s not at his side.

The moment they came across that first barred door, Luigi immediately understood that his twin wouldn’t have a chance to follow him, that he’d have to go on alone and that Mario would have to find his own way. Luigi gave him a glance full of consternation and, for a very brief moment, his brother returned exactly the same look. Before, of course, forcing himself to hide it so as not to show discouragement in front of his little brother and, instead, give him a reassuring grin.

Luigi smiles to himself as a pleasant tenderness spreads across his chest and warms his heart. That's his big brother: always ready to appear strong and confident to protect his younger sibling and not to worry him, all with the purpose of preventing Luigi’s anxiety from getting any worse.

Looking around, Luigi puts his hands to his chest in some sort of reflex action, trying to keep the warmth that the thought of his brother brings up inside him. For, not to his luck, everything around him is ice and more ice. Joke’s End is an inhospitable, deserted, cold place. It certainly serves its purpose of functioning as a kind of graveyard for jokes, for while the other places in the Beanbean Kingdom that he and Mario have visited had much more cheerful names and were also full of life, this place is far from the mainland and, except for the monsters and that strange blue girl with the scepter that has greeted them, it’s also the loneliest place in the entire kingdom.

Luigi hugs himself as he continues looking at his surroundings with a parched throat and a sense of dread growing inside him. He’s never felt so alone in his entire life.

He only hopes that this ordeal is about to end. He followed the path marked by the place itself, hit the necessary blocks and battled alone against various monsters, despite the insecurity produced by not having his twin with him so that they could perform their combined attacks.

Not to mention the several occasions on which he’s been able to see Mario through a barred door without either of them finding a way to bridge the distance between them. All those times, Luigi has clung to the bars as if he could make them disappear in his fingers so he could finally be reunited with his brother, and Mario hasn’t hesitated to approach him and place his hands on his twin’s, gazing at him affectionately while he gave him words of encouragement and, again, smiles filled with confidence.

“Soon we'll be together, Lu,” he assured him, and Luigi could practically touch the certainty that permeated every word his brother spoke. “We'll soon find a way, you'll see.”

Despite his anxiety and his many insecurities, Luigi has never doubted Mario. He always believes in his promises, unquestioningly, because he knows that his twin wouldn't tell him if he didn't truly believe in them and if he wasn't willing to do everything in his power to keep them.

And he always does. Mario has never, ever failed Luigi. Not once in their entire lives.

Therefore, Luigi trusts. He trusts Mario blindly, just as he has since the day they were born, and he’ll continue to trust him until the day he dies.

So that's what keeps him going: the certitude that Mario's words will come true sooner or later. The assurance that everything his brother tells him is as true as the sun will always rise at the end of the darkest night and the light will shine again. Just as bright as Mario’s smile.

This time, whether they manage to reunite depends on a strange puzzle that, once again, they must solve by working together, even though they’re physically separated. This is not the first time, of course: when they’ve seen each other through barred doors, it’s been because they had to hit twin blocks in unison in order to activate different mechanisms, and there have even been times when they haven’t been able to see one another but have felt each other's presence through the thick walls of ice that make up Joke’s End.

As Luigi hits this last block, he hears a sound coming from outside. Both he and Mario have just crossed walkways that ran parallel to each other and converged at two different doors in the building, and they’ve helped each other to move forward until they’ve reached, at least in Luigi's case, a dead-end room. After hitting the block, Luigi retraces his steps towards the walkway he has just crossed and discovers that a frozen bridge has emerged between the two.

“Yes!”

Luigi can't and won't hold back the squeal of relief and excitement that bubbles up from his throat. Without wasting any time, he runs across the footbridge to cross to the other side and begins to follow the path that Mario must have taken. He wonders if he’ll bump into his sibling, if he too has started running, if he’s as eager as Luigi is to hold him in his arms. The smile on the younger plumber’s face widens, for he’s sure that Mario feels the same way. He’s about to join his big brother in a tight embrace, and this time, he won’t let Mario get away from him again.

Then, as he climbs up some latticed platforms, a high-pitched scream rings in his ears and is suddenly cut off.

Due to the surprise, Luigi almost stops in his tracks as he feels how the air escapes from his lungs and an icy fist grips his heart. And it has nothing to do with the cold prevailing in the place.

It only takes him a moment, however, to resume running, giving his legs more speed.

“Mario!”

He leaps over some ice blocks and manages to reach the next room. He skids across the ice when he realizes that he’s at a high location and that, to his right and left, there are two sets of steps leading down to the bottom of the room.

And down there, right in the middle, is Mario.

The blood runs cold in Luigi's veins as he discovers his brother lying on the ground, completely motionless, with traces of dirt on his clothes and a red stain crowning his forehead, his hat fallen just short of his head. With a horrified gasp, Luigi doesn't give it a second thought: he runs to the edge of the step, bends down and jumps, landing in a crouch a short distance from where Mario lays. He moves practically on all fours towards his twin, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes so wide that he thinks they'll end up popping out of their sockets.

“Mario,” he mumbles in a nervous whisper.

He carefully places a hand under Mario's head and slowly lifts him up as he slides his knees under his body to try to give him some comfort. He pulls him closer as he continues to whisper his name, but his brother does not respond. There’s blood on his neck and one of his knees, Luigi notices. Feeling the anguish growing inside him, he examines the crimson stain on Mario's forehead, as it seems to be the most serious wound. His white glove is immediately covered in red. Wheezing, Luigi raises his hand in front of his face and stares at it, blinking in awe, as if his brain is having trouble processing what his eyes are seeing.

Mario's blood coats Luigi’s fingers.

The distress that floods him begins to transform, little by little, into something different. Something that causes small sparks of electricity to sizzle around him.

It is then that he becomes aware of their presence.

Luigi blinks a little to focus his eyes, as they’re blurry, he doesn't know why, and lowers his hand without any haste. He places it protectively on Mario's chest, which, fortunately, rises and falls, evidence that he continues to breathe, albeit slowly and heavily. Luigi pulls him a little closer to himself, his hand still holding his twin's head with extreme care. His breathing is getting more and more arduous and laborious, and his cheeks are getting wet, but he’s not even aware of it.

In front of him stand three of the many monsters that plague the place. Luigi has faced several of them before, both alone and in the company of his brother, so he recognizes them immediately. A Glurp, which spews toxic clouds that have on occasion poisoned him or Mario, causing his sibling to be extremely grateful for Luigi's efforts to carry extra Refreshing Herbs in their luggage. An Ice Snifit, whose spiky chunks of ice have frozen his soul and against which only his brother's Firebrand has been effective enough to eradicate its effects.

And lastly... a Clumph.

His green skin makes Luigi think of a nurse’s uniform. His purple hair reminds him of a bunch of grapes.

And finally... that huge club that he carries everywhere.

In all likelihood, this Clumph is the main reason why his big brother is lying unconscious in his arms.

Out of pure instinct, Luigi squeezes Mario a little tighter as his brow furrows. How dare that damned Clumph hurt his twin in such a way. How dare he stand there, in front of him, carrying his club on his shoulder as if he hadn't just dealt it with all his might on Mario's forehead. How dare he give him that goofy look with which he pretends to be completely innocent.

How dare he.

“How dare you,” Luigi mumbles without even being aware of it.

The particles of electricity around Luigi have increased in intensity and power. His breathing has accelerated so much that snorts escape from his mouth, and the hair on his arms has bristled under his green shirt. The plumber hears the roar of thunder, but he can’t tell where it comes from. He does take a glimpse of a glow that illuminates the place green, though. Without taking his eyes off the Clumph, Luigi reaches an arm over Mario to grab his brother’s hat and places it under his twin’s head as he lays him extremely gently on the ground. Then, taking his time, he stands up. His enemies don't miss his every move either, the Ice Snifit and Glurp ready to attack.

Luigi, however, is not going to give them the slightest chance.

His veins burn so much that he feels like he's going to explode at any moment. Rage has invaded every inch of his body and is spreading through his nerve endings like a thunderstorm that threatens to burst and destroy him in the process.

Luigi is more than willing to let it out.

He can't remember ever feeling this way, either before or after acquiring his Thunderhand, but he's not going to hold back. These enemies dared to touch his brother. They dared to attack him when Luigi was finally on his way to reunite with him. They dared to inflict Mario a wound that has robbed him of consciousness. They dared to spill his blood.

It will be the last thing they will do in their lives.

Anger controls his every move when Luigi unhurriedly steps over Mario's body and walks heavily towards his rivals, as if he were nothing more than a puppet in the hands of the strongest wrath. Although they try to look determined and ready to fight, the monsters sense the aura that surrounds Luigi, the aura of someone who is willing to do anything to get revenge, the aura of someone who will stop at nothing to protect what is most precious to him in the world.

An electrical aura that brings thunder at lightning in its wake.

As he walks, Luigi clenches his fists at his sides and rebellious sparks escape from them. He feels that both his mustache and his hair under his hat have bristled, and his cheeks are now so dampened that he feels them cold, but he doesn't care. He continues to move, his breathing harsh and uneasy, his heart pounding in his chest, and he feels an unexpected surge of satisfaction sweep over him when he realizes that his enemies, cornered, have bumped into the icy wall of the building surrounding them.

They have no escape.

Luigi's fury, on the other hand, does.

Growling under his breath, the plumber closes his eyes and allows the energy pulsing in his veins to take complete control.

His arms rise up, his palms pointing towards his enemies. Electricity courses through his body, surging from deep within him and rushing to his hands. Against all odds, a sense of warm calm invades Luigi as he feels his electric magic dance up and down, flooding every inch of his body, reaching every corner of his essence and causing a fleeting smile to play across his lips.

He has never felt so powerful.

Before the first streak bursts from Luigi's fingertips, his eyelids part, but there’s no trace of pupil in his gaze.

There’s only room for electricity.

Luigi's eyes are entirely white as his power begins, at last, to be released. Jets of light, sometimes blue, sometimes green, emerge from his hands, lethal, deadly, and it takes Luigi a moment to realize that he’s begun to emit a low snarl that, gradually, turns into a scream with which he frees all the emotions that boil inside him. The fear of losing his brother. The rage for what they’ve done to him. The thirst for revenge, which had never before blinded him so much.

In fact, Luigi realizes that everything he sees is white. An immaculate white, dotted with sizzling green and blue flashes, which prevent him from checking what his magic is doing, what his hands are causing. Nor is he able to perceive any sound, as if his ears were underwater, in a completely silent limbo that has cut him off from the outside world.

However, he quickly decides that he doesn't care. He doesn't care, because he feels invincible. He’s filled with fierce drive that fuels his power and begs him to go on, to not stop, to continue giving it free rein. The euphoria of the moment is so strong that it becomes addictive, something Luigi clings to with all his might.

It's all for his brother.

Mario deserves that and more. Mario deserves the whole world.

Despite Luigi’s blindness, which, he hopes, is temporary, the image of his twin appears clearly in front of him. His beloved Mario, always so cheerful and smiling, always ready to fight for those he loves, always ready for battle. Always determined to protect Luigi and spare him all harm, but also full of unshakable faith in his little sibling.

A faith that has always been Luigi's driving force throughout his entire life.

If it were not for Mario, Luigi simply wouldn’t believe in himself. If it were not for Mario, Luigi wouldn’t have learned to fight, both for himself and for those he loves. If it were not for Mario, Luigi would not be who he is today.

If it weren't for Mario, Luigi wouldn't be here right now.

So he's not going to give up. He’ll continue to defend his brother the same way Mario has always defended him. He won't let those damn monsters get close to his sibling again. He won't let them get a chance to hurt him again.

He won't let them get away with it.

However, as he unleashes all his power and his unstoppable energy travels through his body and gushes from his hands, Luigi empties himself. He empties himself of the fear of losing Mario forever. He empties himself of all his anger, of all his resentment against the beings who have dared to harm his twin. He empties himself of all his thirst for revenge.

And he empties himself, also, of his electric magic.

Which carries with it a great part of his vitality.

Luigi blinks several times as the sparks around his vision begin to dim and the blinding white gradually fades. Before he can see anything, however, he notices his knees hit the icy ground, his legs unable to support him, and he begins to become aware of the noisy panting he’s emitting. He closes his eyes again and squeezes his eyelids tightly shut as he brings a hand to his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart and regulate his rapid breathing. His entire body trembles violently, and he continues to see sparks, only, this time, there’s no trace of those green and blue flashes in them. All he sees is blackness and darkness.

A darkness so enveloping that it threatens to drag him into the deepest and most absolute unconsciousness.

Despite his exhaustion, Luigi can’t afford to faint now. This is no time to rest. He has to check what has happened while he was in that kind of electric trance, what has become of his enemies. He has to check in on Mario.

His brother needs him.

But the darkness is so tempting... What if he only lets himself be dragged along for a moment? Just enough to rest and regain his strength. Besides, his eyes are already closed. What's the difference if—?

“Lu?”

Luigi's eyelids flutter open as he lifts his head with a jerk. He only takes a moment to gaze at the frozen wall in front of him, empty, which makes him imagine that the monsters must have fled, frightened by the fierceness of his power.

But that’s not important now.

His head turns at lightning speed as he compels his exhausted limbs to move. In the midst of his wheezing, a wide grin blooms on his face as his eyes meet another pair, of the same limpid blue, gazing up at him in awe.

“Mario!” he exclaims.

Not wanting to waste any time, he propels himself onto the icy ground to stand up, only to drop to his knees again two seconds later, this time next to Mario. His brother watches him with half-opened eyes and a tired smile glistening on his lips as well. Luigi places a hand in his sibling’s hair, careful not to touch his wound so as not to hurt him more, and his heart fills with joy as he notices how his twin reaches for his hand.

When their fingers intertwine, they join with a force more sweeping than that of a hurricane and more intense than that of the most devastating thunderstorm.

“How are you feeling?”

“Was it you?”

The brothers share a few knowing laughs when they realize that they’ve spoken at the same time. They look at each other fondly, amused, and Luigi, feeling his heart calm at last, gladly gives the floor to his twin.

“I'm a little dizzy,” Mario confesses, his voice a faint murmur. “It hurts...”

He attempts to bring his free hand to his forehead, but Luigi gently restrains him.

“Don't touch it,” he asks, concerned. “You’re wounded, but I'm sure this will help.”

He begins to rummage in his pockets without letting go of his brother's fingers. He doesn't notice that his twin can’t take his eyes off him.

“Was it you, Luigi?” he asks again.

“What do you mean?” Luigi asks, pulling the fabric of his right pocket to try to get a glimpse of its contents.

“The electric shock,” says Mario. “I woke up and saw... Lightning bolts. Electricity. Blue... Green. And... I heard thunder.”

Luigi notices that his brother struggles to speak. Stressed, he begins to rummage in the chest pocket of his overalls, ignoring the fact that he feels exhausted too. Where the heck did he put them?

“Luigi.”

His twin's voice, tinged with a certain urgency, as well as the squeeze he gives his hand, cause Luigi to finally look up. He’s speechless when he notices the fixed, penetrating glance, bursting with curiosity, that Mario is giving him. He can’t help but be slightly startled and even blush, and immediately resumes his search.

“I-I don't know what happened,” he mumbles nervously, and he’s not lying.

“Lu, did you...?” Mario takes a few seconds to ask his question. “Did you just unleash a thunderstorm?”

As his fingers finally grab the 1-UP Super he was looking for, Luigi closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath.

The truth is that he has no idea what just happened. He only knows that several emotions swirled inside him the moment he saw Mario's blood staining his glove red, and that he experienced them in a more overwhelming and powerful way than ever before. He’s never felt that fire in his chest, that tingling in his arms, that sensation of being unstoppable that has taken over his soul and has demanded to gush from his hands with more force than ever.

Luigi had no clue he was capable of such a thing.

“Lu?”

Mario's voice urges him to open his eyes again. His heart shrinks in his chest as soon as he notices the lingering worry in his brother's eyes, not yet completely lucid, but enough to be worried by his silence. Luigi tries to smile and shrugs as he holds out the mushroom.

“It's nothing,” he assures his twin. “I'm fine, but you're not. Eat this.”

“Luigi.” Mario lifts his other hand to push away the shroom. “Tell me what happened. Please. What did I see?”

Luigi will never cease to be amazed that his brother, even with a bleeding wound on his forehead, can still display his innate strength. He knows Mario too well to know that he will never give up, that he’d still want to talk to him about what happened even if he were on the verge of unconsciousness. So, defeated, Luigi offers him a deal.

“Eat this,” he repeats, “and we’ll talk about it.”

Fortunately, his suggestion seems to appease Mario. After watching him for a few seconds, his brother eventually lowers his hand and allows Luigi to give him the 1-UP Super. Luigi knows how much his sibling dislikes the taste of mushrooms, but by now Mario has learned to tolerate it: he closes his eyes and swallows them almost all at once, and always lets out a little whimper of protest that warms Luigi's heart. Mario may be his older brother, he may be the bravest and most capable person he knows, he may have always protected him since they were little, but in some ways he still reminds him of a child.

And yet Luigi admires his sibling for being able to eat something he doesn't like. He struggles every time.

Within seconds, Mario's wound begins to heal. Luigi watches, dumbfounded, as the blood recedes and the skin practically regenerates, eliciting a small grunt from Mario that causes Luigi to squeeze his hand and stroke his hair in an attempt to comfort him. His brother purses his lips as he squeezes back, and Luigi smiles as he witnesses Mario trying to contain the pain and not show himself vulnerable despite the fact that, here and now, it's just the two of them.

To Mario's relief, the shroom soon completes its magic. With his forehead completely healed, Mario opens his eyes, once again glowing with his distinctive energy and vitality, and rests them on his twin. Luigi, however, is so relieved to finally see his older brother safe and sound that, as soon as he begins to sit up, Luigi throws his arms around Mario’s neck.

He doesn't even realize that he’s started to cry until he tries to speak and the lump in his throat prevents him from doing so.

Mario's laughter is like a balm that warms his heart. His brother laughs fondly and puts an arm around Luigi while he raises his other hand to pat him affectionately on his head. Still hugging him, Luigi smiles, and a strangled chuckle escapes his system as he swallows to try to quiet his crying.

“It's good to see you too, little brother,” Mario whispers.

He presses his cheek against Luigi's and Luigi closes his eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest. There's no telling where his smile ends and Mario's begins. He could stay like this forever, clinging to his sibling and feeling his twin's arms around him, providing him with a warmth more intense and comforting than that of the most blazing fire as they protect each other from any evil coming from the outside world.

Luigi needs nothing else to live.

After a few seconds, Luigi notices that his brother tries to pull apart from him to look him in the eye, but the younger plumber finds himself unable to stand up straight. His whole body feels strangely limp, as if it didn’t belong to him, and it’s impossible for him to do something as simple as opening his eyes.

Luigi then realizes that the fatigue caused by the force with which his electric magic has emerged from his body is causing the upper part of his body to slip to Joke’s End’s cold, icy floor, as both him and Mario are still on his knees, and he finds himself unable to break his fall. Mario's voice, full of alarm at his little brother’s condition, reaches Luigi’s ears muffled, and he just can’t make out his twin’s words. He does feel how Mario holds him tightly with one arm, trying to ground him, and Luigi finds himself clinging to him with what little strength he has left in his body. He rests his head on his twin's shoulder while he closes his eyelids, just for an instant, to rest for five minutes, nothing more.

For this reason he’s unable to resist when he notices that Mario brings something to his lips. Without hesitating, Luigi opens his mouth and allows his brother to give him what the green clad plumber immediately distinguishes as a 1-UP Super. He’s barely swallowed it when he begins to feel its effects: a small spark of energy springs up in his heart and starts to spread through his body in slow but intense waves, finally giving him back the vitality that the magnitude of his power had taken from him. Soon he’s aware of how Mario's arms support him while, in Italian, his brother whispers soft words of encouragement, waiting for the shroom to take effect with the little patience that Luigi knows his sibling has, but which he always displays when it comes to him.

Luigi lets out a small moan as he regains control of his body, holding on to Mario's shoulders to slowly sit up. He immediately hears his twin greet him as if he had just woken up, which, in fact, is not far from the truth.

“Hey,” Mario says softly, his tone full of gentleness. “Can you hear me, Lu? How are you feeling?”

Luigi notices Mario's fingers cupping his cheek and can practically feel the concern that tinges his voice. Still clinging to his twin's shoulders, Luigi hastens to smile, looking at him, and nods, wishing he could wipe all traces of worry from Mario's blue eyes in one fell swoop.

“I feel wonderful,” he declares.

His tone must be more convincing than he thought, because, in front of him, Mario's face begins to calm down: his frown relaxes, his eyes recover their usual spark, and a smile blooms on his lips that mirrors Luigi's, as if his brother were an earthly representation of the sun and he, the moon that feeds on his glow.

“Thank goodness,” Mario replies, giving him a gentle pat on the back.

Both his voice and his face are brimming with relief. Luigi instinctively closes his eyes the instant he notices how his twin begins to tilt his head towards him. Warmness bursts in his chest as his forehead meets his brother's, and the smile that spreads across his face at the contact is wide, serene and placid. Despite the ice that surrounds them, despite the coldness that reigns in the place where they are, far from any trace of civilization, Luigi could almost swear that never before, in all his life, has he felt more wrapped up in the warmth provided by the mere presence of his older brother.

When, seconds later, the twins separate, they give each other wide and calm smiles, both filled with joy at being together again. Mario's expression, though, gradually turns into one full of curiosity.

“So...” he says before patting Luigi's back again. “It was a thunderstorm, right?”

Luigi can't help but cringe a little. How is he going to tell Mario about something he doesn't even know how it happened? In fact... should he? What if his brother starts to see him in a different light? What if...?

What if Mario stops loving him?

“W-well...”

He doesn't realize that he's started to fiddle with his hands, as he usually does whenever he's nervous, until he feels Mario's palm, warm and pleasant, resting on his fingers before gently squeezing them. Raising his head, Luigi meets the equally sweet and affectionate gaze of his brother, radiant with all the love he feels for him.

The sight is more than enough to soothe Luigi’s racing thoughts.

“Lulu,” Mario says, still smiling, “you don’t have to be ashamed. What you did was amazing!” he exclaims, chuckling smoothly as his eyes sparkle with excitement. “You unleashed a thunderstorm all by yourself, little brother. Do you realize how incredibly powerful you are?”

Luigi stares at him in silence for a few seconds, trying to process the reality of his twin's words.

Or, he corrects himself, trying to process the fact that Mario doesn't seem at all horrified by what his younger sibling just did.

“In fact,” Mario continues before Luigi manages to come up with a response, “you're so powerful, Luigi, that not only did you get me to wake up even though I had just been hit in my head, but you made the monsters run away. Or at least,” he adds as he looks to and fro, “I don't see them anywhere.”

Looking at Luigi again, Mario winks at him as he holds both of his brother's hands in his, Luigi's fingers resting on his left palm while his right continues to tap him lightly. Luigi blinks slowly and closes his mouth at last, for he wasn't even aware of having it wide open. A shy smile begins to bloom on his lips.

“They fled like cowards in the face of the bravery and courage of my mighty little brother,” Mario then says, imprinting his voice with a proud tone that causes Luigi's smile to widen and his cheeks to start burning. “Do you hear me, monsters?” Mario suddenly shouts, turning again to one side and the other, and grabs Luigi's wrist with his right hand to raise his younger sibling’s arm in the air. “Don't even think of coming closer if you don't want to suffer the wrath of the Green Thunder!”

Luigi can't contain the laughter that escapes from the depths of his soul at the nickname his brother has just bestowed upon him, as well as his enthusiasm when boasting about him and the vigor with which he shakes Luigi’s arm. Luigi doubts that any monster is going to be scared by that, but, maybe, just maybe, what he just did is not... bad. Maybe his power has gotten out of his control, but, after all, he hasn't caused any harm.

And, besides, he’s achieved his purpose: to keep those monsters away from his big brother and prevent them from ever having a chance to harm him again.

When his laughter starts to fade, he notices that Mario was laughing too. Now he looks at Luigi with eyes sparkling with affection, and the younger plumber returns a radiant smile that he hopes will convey the same feeling to his brother. Seizing the fact that he’s still holding him by one hand, Mario begins to pull him up and they both stand up at the same time. Mario, however, doesn’t let go.

“Thank you for protecting me, Lu,” he says heartily, giving his fingers a little squeeze.

Luigi can't help blushing and massages the back of his neck with his other hand.

“You always protect me,” he replies, shrugging, “and besides, I don't even know what I did...”

“What do you mean?” Mario sounds both intrigued and confused.

“W-well...” Luigi takes a few seconds to try to find the right words. “I don't know what happened, Mario,” he declares, looking him in the eyes. “I just know that I saw you lying there, and you were bleeding, and...” He sighs, looking away again. “My Thunderhand took control. I didn't even know it was capable of creating a thunderstorm,” he admits, dejected.

Luigi drops his shoulders and massages his arm with his free hand. Mario still holds his other hand, but Luigi senses that it's only a matter of time before his brother lets go and walks away. Surely he doesn't admire him so much anymore. Surely he doesn't see him in the same way anymore. Surely...

“Then,” Mario's voice interrupts the torrent of his thoughts, and a new squeeze on his fingers causes Luigi to turn to him once more. Mario's warm smile disarms him completely. “Maybe we can find a way together that you can do this while maintaining control.”

At first, Luigi isn't sure he fully understands what his twin is referring to. It takes a while for his brain to register what his twin means: that Luigi should learn how to be in control in case he needs, or wants to, create another thunderstorm in the future.

It hadn't occurred to him that there might be a way.

“You’ll see how they will call you Green Thunder then,” Mario adds, amused, and gives him a gentle punch on the shoulder.

Luigi chuckles at his joke, and an idea suddenly comes to his mind.

“Do you think you could do something like that with your Firebrand too?” he asks, curious.

This time it's Mario who stares at him dumbfounded.

“Well... I hadn’t thought about it,” he admits, putting his hand to his chin and tapping his finger pensively.

“Then that’s one more thing we have to research,” Luigi suggests, suddenly filled with a determination that only Mario could have infected him with. “What do you think, big bro?”

“Fair enough, little bro” nods his sibling, giving him another wink.

With no need for words, the two break contact in unison, only to raise their arms and high five. Luigi laughs, feeling not only relieved that Mario still loves him the same way, but pleased that they’re going to further investigate both his electrical power and his twin's igneous magic. He hopes to come up with an appropriate nickname for Mario and his Firebrand in the process.

“I guess we'll have to get out of here first,” Mario adds jokingly. “Let’s-a go!”

“Okie-dokie!”

And, together again, they set off.

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chelnciel · 2 months ago

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Perceptions and thoughts about ch. 26 (a little late...)

Well, it's February 15th and that means chapter 27 has already been published! And while there are already spoilers out, I've been trying to avoid them since I don't want to know what happened (yet), I'm still finishing organizing my thoughts on ch 26 because it's always good to give it a deeper reading, right?

First, they are such a married couple! in the everyday they find their harmonious life as newlyweds, and that is seen in how the first thing Hirano thinks is that they are starting their last year of living together. Why would he worry about that if he didn't care about it beyond a good friendship?

“Irreplaceable days, with my sleepy kouhai besides me”

Sensei loves to draw Hirano's waist, every time she can she subtly emphasizes it, as in the cover of this chapter, where she not only lets us see the difference in size and build between them, but also Hirano's slender waist.

And in this chapter she really let herself go for the pleasure of drawing handsome guys, we finally get to see Kagi's good physical condition! We've all been able to see him except Hirano... and god knows he's eager to see those abs (in a totally platonic way of course).

While this seems to be a somewhat slow chapter or superfluously focused on the everyday, there are a couple of things that stand out for me and give enormous value to this chapter, and is that here we are given good clues to understand that Hirano's feelings have been changing, that even imagining suspending those morning studies makes him miss those moments together and make him call Kagi in an almost unconscious way.

Or when Kagi mentions that his favorite time of the day is studying with him in the mornings, the first thing that happens is that Hirano looks at him with a mixture of shock and wonder, then touches his heart (yes, I like to think that) because until a couple of minutes ago he was longing for those moments he thought he would lose.

Afterwards, he fails to concentrate and keeps glancing at Kagi who is so focused on his homework that he doesn't notice Hirano looking at him with those attentive and curious eyes, accompanied by that thought about how much it amazes him how Kagi gives his best in everything he does, feeling all that admiration for his roommate; and the last panel, where the word suki/like stands out (as mentioned in this community post that points very well what this last panel implies) and the beating of Hirano's heart, thinking about what's going on with him at that moment…

And let's remember, Hirano stated that his ideal partner is the one who gives his all, who is honest and open (and that basically is Kagi-kun), so let's hope that he can make those little advances to, with a little luck, have a kiss at the end of this year.

The end of chapter 26 gives me hope because now he sees Kagi and not only thinks about how he likes the distance they have, or that he feels calm being with him, but he thinks about how much he likes studying with him, and how much he admires him for his effort and dedication. And maybe tomorrow he can understand that he likes to have dinner with him, and practice basketball with him, and spend time with him in general. And as he comes to understand what a lovers' relationship means to him, he can slowly put together that puzzle where his own conception of romance converges with what he enjoys being with Kagi. And that all those ideas such as I like to study with him, I like to spend time with him, I like to take care of him, become simply I like him.

About the next chapters... I think Hirano will continue to be so calm next to Kagi, seeing him more and more attractive, decisive and admiring him through those huge blue cat eyes, but I still don't think he is in a position to fit all the pieces together. Also I think something else needs to happen for him to realize that he is indeed reciprocating Kagi's feelings, as the touching doesn't work, the closeness doesn't work (he recognizes it as brotherly love or deep friendship), so I think it takes another, a different twist for him to notice. I've considered the jealousy theme, but I don't think Hirano is an inherently jealous person, so it seems to me that it must be something that directly “threatens” Kagi for him to react. maybe a minor accident on the court? (he is an athlete, there are usually falls and bumps in practices and games) and we already saw that just because he knew he was in the infirmary he ran to see him regardless of rules or classes,

So it seems to me that if something like that happened, he would not hesitate to go to see him and maybe that way he could go fit his feelings and finally react (I am a believer that Hirano will be the one who kisses him first, probably in a burst of impulsivity). That, or one day he'll see Kagi shirtless and his heterosexuality and decency will fly out the window (there's a reason sensei still won't let him see his roommate's six pack).

And one last comment: I'm really worried about Hanzawa and how he will react when he confirms his suspicions because he definitely knows that Kagi likes Hirano, but he still doesn't see a real “danger” since Hirano seems to be so far from understanding what a crush is, but he definitely can feel how fond and close his friend is to Kagiura, and that it's just a matter of time before he falls... what will Hanzawa do when he confirms his suspicions?

#I have another theory about how he could discover his feelings #but the post is already very long #so for next time it will be #Long post again #but I love them!#I've successfully avoided spoilers but I don't think I will for long #Hanzawa I'm watching you #I still can't wrap my head around the fact that we have monthly KGHR #hiranoloveskagiura #hiranoamaakagiura #hirano to kagiura #hirano and kagiura #hirano y kagiura #hirano taiga #kagiura akira #hirakagi #kagihira #kghr #hrkg

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atinyniki · 2 months ago

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파이팅 해야지

my mooties ! (in no particular order) pt. 1 || pt. 2

@skzoologist: my life. my heart. my soul. my darling dearest. my wife. my butterfly. my best friend. soulmate, if you will. my life would not be the same without you. i think about you and everything you have done for me every single day. thank you for being with me through all my struggles. i don't believe i'll ever be able to repay you the same way, but i'll always be here for you no matter what. there is no one else i would have chosen to be my best friend, absolutely no one could ever compare to you. your artwork is so fucking phenomenal, i still have the drawing you made set as my lockscreen. your writing is so amazing and perfectly angsty, i haven't found anyone who can write like you. i love our dynamic and how i can speak so freely with you. our personalities are so vastly different and i think that's the reason i find it so easy to speak with you. i wouldn't trade you for anything, zehina. thank you for showing me what a true friend is, i love you sosososoooooooo much cutie (yes you're cute shut up) <3

@writingforstraykids: i love talking to you so much. i'm so glad to have had you from the very start of my whole journey on tumblr. there's not a single moment where i'm afraid to reach out to you anymore. you are my safe place. i know life has genuinely been treating you like shit recently, but i hope you know that you always have me to talk to about these things. thank you for everything, i love you <3

@galaxycatdrawz: azzy. my cutie lovebug. my bomi buddy !!! my little troublemaker hehe :3 i love you sososo much and i cannot explain how much you've helped me within the past couple months. thank you for never leaving my side, you genuinely make every moment so much better. we'll have known eachother for an entire year soon, and i can't wait to find new things to experience with you <3

@theo4eve: theooo ! i remember the last time i made my mooties page, we had only been mutuals for a couple hours. i'm glad that we've gotten to know eachother since that time. we haven't spoken as much since my break, but i hope to speak frequently with you again soon ! love you <3

@shua-f4lmings: my anna bug ! so glad to have met you. you are sososo talented and unique ! thank you for reaching out to me all those months ago, i love yapping about different groups with you hehe <3

@sona1800: sona, my darling. it's shocking how i've found my long lost twin on tumblr hehe :3 i love talking to you and spending time with you, and i'm so grateful for all those nights you've helped me with my feelings. thank you so much, simply for being you <3

@silverstarburst: ash ! we haven't really talked in a while but i miss you so much ! thank you for always being here for me anyways, i'm back online regularly now so i'll always be here if you need someone to talk to as well !!! love you <3

@miuracha: miu my angel. you are so fucking talented and amazing and omg i love you. idk why but i get such bad cuteness aggression when talking about you :3 still will never forget about how i almost passed away after you followed me back haha... and after finding about your 8 million accounts....... <3

@jinnie-ret: jinnieeee ! you are literally just the sweetest ever and so fucking supportive. thank you for always being here for me. you're so talented, and even after my huge reading/writing break your fics were still just as refreshing as ever ! hope to talk more soon <3

@kaiyaba: omg cadence ! i'm not sure if you post anything anymore, but i'm glad we've still been in touch outside of tumblr ! miss you, hope we can interact on tumblr more often too <3

@cham3li: jenny jenny jenny jenny oh my god my sunshine my baby my mini me ! i've missed you so much. i hope we can talk more now that i'm back hehe, hopefully life has been treating you well :3

@milf-ivy: ivyyyy ! it's so fun to meet people of the same culture here on tumblr, i think it's kinda cute how we found eachother in this little community :3 we don't talk much but i love you a lot and i miss you ! hope we can talk again soon <3

@cinnamostar: hehehahhaha stacy... honestly we don't talk much about groups anymore, it's mainly just videogames lol. still so happy to have you in my life nonetheless ! i think we lowkey went on hiatus around the same time, but i hope we can both get that spark back ! love you <3

@hyuuukais: waaaa i have no idea how you follow me either like i am nowhere near your level of writing omg... your works are so fucking addicting and i literally remember how i squealed when you posted your xdh masterlist lol. hope to see more works from you soon <3

@seungiesz: im in love with your little text scenarios. no like literally. we have never spoken to eachother but your works are so cute and i hope to read more of them soon ! maybe we can interact soon hehe <3

@riariks: aaaa hi hello ! i love your little drabbles hehe :3 i remember i used to read a bunch on your old account ! hope life is treating you well and we can interact more hehe <3

@kayewrite: i've literally only read 1-2 fics from you a while back, and from what i can remember, they were amazing. you're genuinely such a talented writer, i know you've been inactive for a little bit, but i hope to see you again soon <3

@anautumncarol: honestly i wish i was able to read more of your fics since you normally post on ao3 but holy shit your fluff is soooo good ! i love reading your fics when i'm in a bad mood ! you're amazing at what you do <3

@starseungs: lord have mercy i cannot even believe you follow me back. you are so sosososiiofigehruifehwuifkjeifjk so fucking talented and you're such an amazing writer it's like flabbergasting. literally continue doing whatever you're doing bc it's working so well and im addicted. not exaggerating <3

@eczlipse: your smut... lord have mercy. i love your writing format tbh it makes it so easy to read ! i don't think we've ever interacted but your writing is so yummylicious like i literally love it. pls keep doing what youre doing bc it's working xoxo <3

@jeonginsleftcheek: ozzy ! im 100% sure you literally don't know who i am bc i think we started following eachother as soon as i went on my hiatus, but i love your works ! hope we can interact now that i'm back <3

@uki-kiki: idk if you write for any kpop groups but from what i know, i love your little scenarios and bits of poetry. i'm not quite sure if you're active anymore, but i hope you're doing well <3

@efflorescing-mary: i love your poetry ! i know you're a kpop stan but i'm not entirely sure you write for any of them lol... all i know is that your works are amazing ! idk how long it's been since you've written something but i literally love the way you write <3

@wmewtew: honestly i don't know if we've talked like ever... but i love the fics you reblog they're so yummyyyy agh ! i hope we can bond over them sometime hehe <3

@aeinzzzketchup: i'm not sure if you write anymore bc i can't find your main anymore :( it's sad to see all these people leaving aghhh ! i hope you know you always have a place here in our little community <3

@thefantasyden: love your writing ! it's so like straight to the point when it comes to smut hehe :3 i haven't gone through your entire masterlist yet, but it's definitely on my bucket list <3

@biteyoubiteme: ugh your formatting is soo nice like i wish i could write the way you do... that being said i love the stuff you write and your content is so amazing ! we def need to interact more lol, expect reblogs on your fics soon <3

@zee-143: i'm pretty sure we met through theo if i'm not mistaken hehe :3 we've barely talked but you're such a cutie and i hope we can get to know eachother more <3

@dmnksrt: hehehhe ik you through zehina :3 i remember you from a while back honestly but i think you've gone offline for now too </3 hope to see you back on soon tho <3

@hyunnjiin: i also don't know if you post fics... but i know you reblog a loooot of stuff ! i hope we can bond over some of that content some time hehe <3

@wooyoungchangbinstaytiny: nithya... you haven't been active since all the chaos ensued lmfao. clocked leah and kylei's asses though, you'll always have a special place in my heart for that <3

@beomiinee: holy shit it has been soooo long </3 i think you've deleted all your fics unfortunately :( but i still definitely remember you !!! i'm always here to talk if you wanna darling <3

@moonchild9350: hehe i loooove your writing, especially because of how fluffy and smutty it is at the same time ! i'm probably gonna read more of your works soon, you have a lot omg <3

@miyaluvvsyou: miyaaaa heheh hiiii ! idk if you write at all but thank you so much for helping with so many of nat's masterpieces lol ! i've read some of your works years ago on your madderton account too, literally phenomenal <3

@solisyeah: hehe your writing style is so cute and easy to read ! it makes your fics so enjoyable. i know your life has been sososo hard recently and i'm pretty sure you're completely off tumblr anyways, but i hope it's better now <3

@evermourning: i know you're inactive too, but i love your series, your works are so fucking adorable ! will miss your writing lots, hopefully life is treating you well <3

@hearts4leeknow: i miss you so much you have no idea. it's been almost an entire year since you've been off tumblr, and everyday i regret not getting to your request fast enough. it's still in my drafts, i wanted to post it when you got back, but you never did </3 i hope one day you can come back to our community, love you forever <3

@slvt4felix: hehe your series are soooo cute and i love your writing ! not to mention your art ?! it's actually so amazing like hooooly shit. you have to start making more of that lol, it's so good <3

@arafilez: ara aaaa omg i've missed you so much ! you're one of the first ateez writers i ever got into, and i think it's so cool how we're also from the same area lolll ! i love your works so much. they're amazing, and so are you <3

@chqnverse: lord have mercy... your writing nora. it's so fucking good oh my god ! it's so unfortunate that we had such a rocky start to our friendship, but i hope we can talk again soon ! miss you <3

@wegc: i genuinely remember falling in love with your writing and sending in an ask after the first couple fics i read by you... i lowkey don't know if you write anymore but i'm glad to see you're still active on your personal account <3

@uknowme-not: i'll never forget you darling. i remember how excited i was seeing that someone had sent me an ask for the very first time. i cherish what you said to me in that ask forever, thank you so much for supporting me <3

@hyewka: stg i go back to your fics like every other day. i will reread the bunny hybrid soobin drabble over and over and over again till the day i fucking die. i'm actually never forgetting about you, you're so cool pls never die xoxo <3

@astraysimp: aaagh your skz!dad fics have always had a chokehold on me, i still go back and read them from time to time ! your account has the cutest concept ever omg i love it so much <3

@redlightsallnight: i think you were last active in 2024, but omg the things you reblog... unfortunately i don't think i've been able to find any of your works yet, but i'll surely read them if i see them anywhere <3

@owocontroversy: hehehhahahah your mood boards... yum yum ! i don't think you write, but you're pretty chill and i love interacting with you ! it's definitely been a while tho, hope we can catch up soon <3

@shampgyu: agh i miss you... i know you've changed blogs but i was too pussy to dm you and ask for your new account </3 i hope that we can reconnect someday thooo <3

@turtledove824: hehe awhhh i think i only remember one of your fics, it was the christmas one !!! but it was still sooo cute, i mainly know you for our interactions tho :3 miss you, hope we can talk again soon <3

@lixie-phoria: i love your headcannons and drabbles oh my godddd ewhjgfuyiewflk like how are your works so good !?!? and you make it look so easy too... you're so talented babe, keep it up <3

@mxltshake: i'm not sure if you post anything at all but i fuck with your reblogs heavy, and i've seen that we agree on a lot of the same controversial topics !!! hope we can yap about that stuff eventually hehe <3

#nikis mooties <3

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psych0t1c-bread · 3 months ago

Text

@howlsofbloodhounds here's the fanfic I promised! Sorry it took me so long lol (and sorry that it's so long in the first place. I meant for this to only be 5k but... judging by the fact that this ended up being 10k, that didn't quite happen, did it?)

@adler9944 because you wanted to read it as well!

Also, the first half of the chapter is a flashback that sets the tone for the story. You can skip it if you want, but I wouldn't suggest it.

I also posted this on Ao3. I hope you like it! Enjoy!

The Right Time and Place

(Cw: swearing, dissociation, self-deprication, mention of blood, PTSD nightmares/flashbacks, etc.)

5 months.

It had been 5 months since Color escaped the VOID. 5 months since Core found him, 5 months since he had been accepted into the Omega Timeline, 5 months since he began to get adjusted to life outside the VOID, and 3 months since he had been introduced to Delta.

Color had learned a lot from being with Delta, casually observing his friend's behaviors to mirror them. He still didn't quite know how to act now that he was out of the VOID. But life seemed a bit more normal now, much easier than it had been - much better.

He watched Delta's movements and attitude with utmost curiosity, unintentionally mirroring it all. He felt like he knew everything about his friend - his hand movements, his interests, where he worked, his attitude, his sarcasm and sass, his confidence, his knowledge.

Color felt like he knew everything about Delta.

It was about 10 pm as Color thought about this. His drifting, heavy eyes slowly began to close as he thought about it while drifting off into dream. And for once, his memory served him well - he remembered how they met almost perfectly...

[For the first two months, Color had stayed in the hospital while Core tried to find a suitable roommate for him, or at least one that would be willing to try.

Luckily, their newest tenant in the apartments a couple blocks from the hospital seemed up for the challenge.

When Core had first approached him with the idea of a roommate, Delta naturally asked who they were, why they were here. He was curious, but needed to make sure it'd be safe for him to room with this person.

Core couldn't tell him much - just that his supposed roommate had arrived two months ago, depressed and malnourished, from a dark VOID where he was held captive for around 20 years based on the doctor's observations.

They weren't able to tell him much more.

It took Delta all of 10 seconds to make his decision. Core offered him time, but before they could even finish their sentence, he had decided to accept this new person.

He asked if he could at least visit his new roommate in the hospital. Core explained that he was near catatonic, and wasn't used to people - but that the doctors would help his new roommate get adjusted by stopping by once a day. (Bit intrusive in Delta's opinion, but if all of what Core said was true, then it was incredibly necessary to have the doctors stop by.)

He gladly accepted.

Once Color had been discharged, Core took him to meet Delta if he was feeling well enough for it. And luckily, at that moment, he was.

Core led him to a peaceful park at dusk, not wanting Color to be overwhelmed by the sun and the busy lives of the people who lived here just yet.

After a short walk, they found Delta, who was sitting on a bench and patiently waiting to meet his roommate.

The two hit it off the bat immediately.

Well, Delta did, at least. At first, his bright orange eyes - a sign Color later learned that meant he was on guard, or that Beta was watching from inside - deeply intimidated Color, with their white dragon-like pupils unintentionally glaring down at him.

But once he saw Delta smile, and happily introduce himself and offer a handshake, Color couldn't help but relax. He was... charismatic, in his own special way.

Their clothes were covered in dirt and grime, having just been called after work. He barely had time to take his goggles and apron off before rushing to wherever Core needed him.

(Truthfully, they had been expecting a fight, but were nonetheless happy to meet someone new.)

And from what Color could hear, Delta had been taking up work at an engineering place of sorts - making new gadgets, weapons, safety items.

Needless to say, Delta's first introduction to Color wasn't him at his prettiest. (Not to say he'd look bad in his work clothes covered in dirt, though...)

Yet still, Color felt himself being drawn to them. Something about them - their voice, their appearance - made them enticing. And it didn't go unnoticed how the Bravery Soul inside of him felt suddenly at ease, watching the other still closely but much more relaxed. There was some sort of... attachment, on Delta that he could feel.

Something new. Something he hadn't experienced with any other Sans before.

It was overwhelming at first. Delta was very excited to meet someone new - he couldn't seem to stop talking, unable to stop asking all the questions that came to their mind as they lightly bounced on their feet. They had an almost childlike curiosity to them.

Core gently shut them down, being direct yet cautious. They knew Delta had no idea about Color's past, and was rightfully curious - a bit too curious, but innocent in his curiosities.

Unfortunately, Color did not take that well.

He was polite, at first. He was able to smile and force himself to keep calm. But the longer the noise carried on, the more questions Delta asked that he didn't want to answer, the brighter the lights around them seemed to get - it was all quickly too much.

But upon seeing the distressed and aggravated look in his new friend's eyes, Delta stopped. He froze momentarily, seeming deep in thought, silently wondering if he was being too much already.

To fix this, they whipped out their backpack, quickly unzipped the big pocket, and pulled out some headphones.

Without hesitating, he offered it to Color.

The other tried to deny his needs at first, not wanting to seem like a burden so early on - look at him, how selfish he is. Burdening a stranger on their first meeting. And he hasn't even made it back to the apartment yet, barely even spoken a word to this stranger! What if he was being rude? What if Delta didn't want to be his roommate anymore because of this? Was he going to be left alone again? Was it his fault? What if this was a trap? Was Delta tricking him to trap him and keep him here forever? What if he was? What if he wasn't? What if-

His breathing began to grow heavy as these thoughts filled his mind. The lights, the noise - it was all too much. The fire in their skull crackled, glowing brighter by the second as a sharp, violent pain overtook their skull.

Instinctively, Delta tried to gently touch Color's shoulder to get him to focus and take the headphones. They could see the pain in Color's grimace, and wanted to help.

Unfortunately, Color snapped.

He jumped back, almost screaming at Delta to get away, making the other flinch and take a quick step back.

Before he could even process what was going on, Color had sunk to his knees as he trembled, violently restraining his sobs as his thoughts and pain overtook him. He frantically tried to cover his broken skull with his hood, desperately trying to block out all the lights around.

Silently, after he overcame the shock, Delta quietly began to analyze him. The Bravery Soul inside him demanded an answer for the outburst, but Delta didn't have one - that was, until, he heard faint sobs from the other.

He came to the quick conclusion that Color wasn't mad at them. He was mad at the world - for reasons unknown to Delta, obviously. He had only been told bits and pieces of vital information when Core had first approached him about it - he always needed to know what he was getting himself into before deciding something major.

Core glanced almost nervously at Delta. They knew his demeanor quite well - and they knew that if such kindness was rejected so harshly, it could get an even harsher reaction out of the hot-head. His silence was a bit unnerving.

But instead of growing irritated or aggressive, Delta opted for comfort. As much as people may know him for his his brash attitude and doubt that much good can come out of it, he knows when the right time for a fight is - and now is not that time. He wasn't gonna just start fighting someone who so obviously needed help! (Maybe not his help specifically, but it didn't look like anyone else besides from Core was gonna be of much use, so why not do what he can?)

Needless to say, both were surprised when Delta gently and cautiously crouched down in front of Color - still keeping his distance - and quietly called out to him.

Color managed to force himself to peek up from his hood, to see Delta sitting down and smiling a bit sadly at him, empathy glistening in his eyes.

Delta began to sign to him, unsure if it would work or if Color even knew sign language, but he knew that he shouldn't speak more to aggravate the other further. He kept his body a bit closer to the ground, not wanting to make Color look up in the light any more than he had to.

Cautiously, Delta offered to take Color somewhere quieter and safer. He mentioned that there was a library they could go to, it had a sensory room with blackout curtains if he needed a nap, and a Cafe in case he needed a drink or caffeine.

Color froze at the options. What was all of this that he was speaking of? A Cafe? Library? He didn't remember those words anymore. Stars, he could have sworn he heard about them in his dreams.

Was this all a dream, then? Was any of this real? What if it wasn't? Was he trapped somewhere, was he dreaming again? Was this reality or not? How could he tell?

But after Delta had finished signing, Color realized that he had stopped shaking so much. He didn't feel much calmer, as he was still hyperventilating, but he was able to see Delta clearly enough to listen. He found himself breathing a tiny bit slower, his body slowly relaxing the longer Delta held eye contact - he couldn't look away.

Color managed to regain his voice after a moment. He hadn't experienced kindness from someone else in so long... it felt amazing. And yet, that feeling was quickly overtaken by terror and suspicion.

Tears rolled down his skull as he managed to choke out that he wanted to go home. But what was home? Was it the VOID? His AU? Where was it, what was it? Was it with anyone?

Delta and Core were both quite surprised, but upon seeing the despiration in Color's eyes, Delta decided to back off on taking his friend anywhere new.

Core softly spoke up, offering to take Color back to his new apartment. But Color shook his head, unsure of where that was - if it even existed.

After about an hour of trying to talk Color down, Delta had managed to bring him back to reality and get him to take some deep breaths. He handed Color his water, which the other immediately snatched and downed in one go.

Delta was surprised, but gladly let the other take it. And once Color had managed to ground himself and calm down, they slowly stood and offered a hand up. (In truth, with how sudden the panic attack happened, he wasn't quite sure if Color would be able to walk without help.)

Color flinched back, his shaky hands tensing at the sudden movement. But when he saw Delta was genuinely offering to help, he paused.

He hesitated, unsure if touch would send him back over the edge. But the pain in his legs made it feel impossible to get up on his own.

He didn't want to get hurt or tricked. But the kindness in Delta's bright orange eyes told him that he was safe.

For once in his life, something was telling him he was safe.

Slowly, he reached out a shaking hand.

Delta gladly took it.

His tight, strong grip was like no other Color had felt - not in a while, at least. Their hands felt strong and safe, comforting Color and silently telling him that not a single Soul would dare to harm him - not if Delta was around to help it.

The orange metal gauntlet was a surprisingly smooth, almost soothing texture. It was slightly cold, but warmer than Color was expecting - was it always like that, or did Delta just do that for him?

And as Delta pulled him up with ease, Color felt their body practically melt into his hand. It helped that Color couldn't feel his bones - the gauntlet covered his hand fully, blocking out any physical contact from under it. And the fact that it was smooth and not rough or jagged or cold like other metals was the icing on the cake.

Quickly pulling him to his feet, Delta held his hands out just in case Color stumbled or collapsed again. But once his new friend was stable, Core began to lead them to the apartment.

Color still doubted his surroundings. He yanked his hand away from Delta after a moment, but mumbled a quiet 'thank you'. Delta responded with a bright smile.

As they walked in silence, Color couldn't help but notice a protective energy around the group - as if something was watching over them, keeping them safe, protecting them.

He glanced over at Delta.

He figured out where the energy was coming from.

If anyone dared to look in their direction as they made their way to the apartment, they were met with a fiercely protective glare from Delta - a silent promise of hurt if they dared approach with ill intentions. Their hands were kept firmly at their sides as they surveyed the surroundings, keeping track of every alleyway, every person, what they looked like.

Color felt safe. He didn't know why or how, or if it was a trick. But he felt his body relax slowly as they continued walking.

And after a 10 minute walk, they arrived at the apartment.

As Delta carefully held his keys as still as possible so they wouldn't jingle too much, he slowly cracked open the white door, and entered in.

It was fairly clean, though evident that Delta had been living there - he hadn't expected to have company so soon, but had a short warning beforehand (three days) so he could at least clean up the place. Everything was swept and dusted, but his work clothes and apron had been carelessly tosses into a pile near his bedroom door.

The dark, dull beige walls of the apartment greeted their eyes first. The light brown couch was lovingly worn down from Delta alone, with the TV remote resting on the class coffee table in front of it.

The TV stand was nothing fancy, either - not that Delta cared, anyhow. It was tidy with a few movie boxes and a DVD player on it, on the small shelf below the TV itself. The TV was a decent size, nothing huge but definetly big enough for multiple people to enjoy.

The big light above them had been left on, but Delta quickly shut it off as to not overwhelm Color. He silently slipped his shoes off before fully entering to reach for the lightswitch, walking on the cold wooden floors.

Looking a bit to his left, Color could see the open entrance to what Delta described as the kitchen. He could faintly see what looked like chairs and possibly a table.

To his right, he saw a hallway. Delta explained that it led to the bathroom and bedrooms, though Color couldn't quite remember what that meant.

Color remained frozen in the doorway. He saw dozens of items he had a vague memory of, but didn't know the names.

Delta silently awaited a reaction, wanting to ensure Color didn't get overwhelmed. Though, to him, there wasn't much to get overwhelmed about. But judging by Color's earlier reactions, he wasn't quite sure if it would be the same.

Softly, Color asked what the new items were.

Delta was quite surprised by that. But, he cautiously described each and every one, giving Color breaks when he saw his face twist in confusion.

Eventually, Color managed to walk into the house. He took a close look around at the bleak walls, into the kitchen and down the hall. There were so many new things - but all he cared about right now was sleep.

Before he got fully settled, however, Delta offered both him and Core lunch. He wouldn't be able to cook much (the oven was most likely still broken from the last time he attempted to use it), but he could at least feed them a snack or something.

Color's demeanor suddenly sparked up at the mention of food. And upon seeing the sudden shift in attitude, Delta took it as a yes and immediately headed to the kitchen to make them some sandwiches.

To his surprise, Color followed.

The creaks in the floorboards startled him at first, along with Delta's silent footsteps - why couldn't he hear them? Were they really there?

Delta glanced back, to see Color looking confused and uncomfortable. He was about to ask what was up, when Color softly spoke out and asked why he was so quiet.

Delta was surprised, but apologized and explained that he didn't want to overwhelm him. He made sure to walk a little louder. He could see the distant look behind Color's blank eyes.

But he noticed something else - Beta had pointed it out - that concerned him. Color was fidgeting with his hands, pacing in circles around the kitchen on his small square, keeping his eyes on Delta's hands the entire time.

Color nervously glanced at the food. He barely remembered what it was like to eat something - he didn't remember what the name or ingredients of what Delta was making, but made sure that the other wasn't adding any pills or something strange.

Color still wasn't sure if he was safe. Could Delta be trusted? What if this is a trap? Are they going to poison him? Would Core allow that? What if they're the one who suggested it?

Upon seeing Color work themselves up again into another panic, Delta quietly offered for him to come help, if he wanted. He didn't want to make his roommate uncomfortable, but it was clear neither of them knew quite what to do.

Color was startled out of his thoughts, quickly looking up to Delta as he froze in place again. He could barely think, but after a few minutes of debate, he decided to learn about whatever Delta was doing.

As he cautiously approached, Delta made sure Color could see all the ingredient lists and what he was using, how he was using it and where it belonged in his organized mess of a kitchen.

Color had no idea what to do with any of the items, or what they were. And despite not knowing if Delta would tell the truth or not, he decided to ask.

Delta was visibly surprised by this, but made space for Color on the counter and patiently explained the process of making a sandwich, including all the ingredients. They weren't sure if it would be too much for Color to handle, but tried to help anyways.

Color was quick to learn. When he wanted to taste the items first before he put it on his sandwich, Delta didn't stop him. He made sure to separate his sandwich from Color's for sanitary reasons, though.

As they observed from their seat on the windowsill, Core couldn't help but smile. They knew they had made the right choice to pair these two together in spite of their differences.

After the boys had finished making the sandwiches, Delta let them sit anywhere in the apartment as he gave Core their sandwich.

To their surprise, Color scarfed his sandwich down in mere seconds. Delta was worried he'd choke, but somehow he didn't.

After making sure Color wasn't sick from eating so fast, Delta offered to make him another sandwich. Color frantically agreed.

As Delta got up to make him another sandwich, Color stood and asked if he could do it. He truly meant no offense, but he just didn't trust Delta enough to let him make the food.

Core smiled. And, as to not startle Color, they announced their leave.

The two bid Core their goodbyes, and Core left silently as Delta continued to teach Color how to make a sandwich.

And despite Color's clear distrust and fear, the two had been inseparable ever since.

Of course, their relationship has had its ups and downs over the few months they had known each other.

It was certainly an experience for Delta when he first found Color on the kitchen floor, sleeping peacefully with the lights dimly lit up.

Delta, having thought the poor guy was fully unconscious, immediately tried to wake him up while frantically calling the doctors in charge of Color's care at two in the morning.

Color woke up quickly, startled and hostile, kicking and screaming in shock. Delta had jumped back, but breathed a sigh of relief - and hung up after telling the doctors that Color was alive.

That night turned into a long conversation, which led to them helping Color get situated in his new room with the offer of full control over it. The doctors came by to check on them about 15 minutes later, but once they judged that Color was safe, they left.

Another late night memory that Color happily reminisced on was a comforting reminder that he was no longer alone - Delta had caught him playing chess by himself at 1 am, muttering his moves to himself.

Delta, who was somehow both the lightest and deepest sleeper that Color had ever known (even though they were his only friend), was awoken by mutterings coming from the couch.

And upon investigating, visibly concerned of what he would find, he was relieved to see Color.

Delta had asked what he was doing, making Color flinch at the interruption. But when he explained, Delta, in his half-asleep state, managed to say that he didn't have to play alone anymore because Color had him now.

Against his better judgement, he offered to play with him. Color thought for a moment, but accepted.

They both managed to fall asleep as they played chess, waking up on the couch as the warm beam of sunlight gently awoke them from their peaceful slumber.

And it was definitely fun to remember how he had met Beta for the first time - the day he realized that he wasn't alone in having a human Soul with him.

They had walked in on Delta and a glowing orange outline of a body softly talking early in the morning - it sounded like they were talking about some kind of dream. By the tone, Color could tell the spirit sounded nervous as Delta made him some kind of drink that Color didn't recognize.

When he called out to them, the two flinched and swiveled around - but upon seeing him, relaxed.

Color remembered asking who the figure was.

The two looked startled, glancing at each other, before the spirit turned back to Color with the biggest grin he had ever seen.

Excitedly, the kid introduced himself as Beta, explaining who he was and why. He was thrilled that Color could see him - he thought no one other than Delta could! He was so excited!

Delta tried to calm his kid down, not wanting him to overwhelm Color. But for the first time, Color felt something stirring inside of him as the spirits in his head managed to force him to say hi.

A few who were more powerful were able to make themselves into spirits to say hello. Beta was practically jumping up and down when he saw that.

That was probably his favorite 3 am experience with Delta.

He remembered his first panic attack in the house, when Delta had gone out to buy groceries early before work as to not wake up Color. He remembered frantically calling Delta, in tears when the other picked up.

Within seconds, Delta had managed to steal the cart with the groceries still in it, slap a $50 on the counter for the cashier, and teleport home - where he literally slipped on the floor and dragged the cart down with him on total accident.

Yet still, once they managed to get up somehow unharmed, they left the groceries on the ground so they could run to help Color.

He remembered when an ignorant Monster had decided to challenge Color's flames, mocking his body. He remembered the shame and humiliation - and how it quickly turned to utter shock when he saw Delta clock him in the jaw, breaking it almost instantly and knocking the man out.

Color remembered the way Delta had grabbed his hand, quickly pulling him up from his seat in the Cafe and began to run. They ran all the way back to their apartment practically at the speed of light, and when they got in and locked the door, they took a moment to breathe.

They looked at each other, still in mild shock that that had just happened. But then they immediately burst into laughter, in awe that no one had stopped them or caught them yet.

(They got caught later that week cause the guy who got his ass beat saw Delta visiting Color in the hospital during one of his more frequent checkups. He bitched to Core about it and Delta got a earful from the kid. Color couldn't stop laughing.)

He remembered one of the many times when the sheer emptiness of the walls had trapped his mind into thinking he was back in the VOID - alone, cold, and scared.

Thankfully, Delta was home at the moment. He rushed to help as usual, bringing Color back to reality.

And for the first time, Color began to speak.

He spoke about the VOID. The darkness. The same dull scenery, a memory long forgotten and yet forcefully re-experienced every single day.

That was when Delta decided to paint the walls.

He let Color help, of course. He allowed Color to pick out the paint, while he went to find the paint brushes - they remained in each other's sight the whole time, not daring to stray too far.

Color ended up picking out a blue-teal color, and once they had gotten home, they began to rearrange the furniture momentarily so they could protect the floor and such.

It took about three days to paint, which was a bit longer than either had planned. But in those three days, they had begun to talk, both sharing their respective stories about how they had gotten here.

Delta was much more open about it than Color was. But Color, being intuitive as ever, noticed that Delta never went into specific details - he only managed to say that things happened, and instead preferred to go on about his adventures fighting bad guys in the multiverse.

Color asked, once. Out of curiosity. He had asked why Delta had chosen to do that of all things.

Delta managed a quick response. It was witty, Color gave him that, but based on the guilt and hidden shame in their eyes, he knew it wasn't the full truth.

He asked if something had happened to make him not want to talk about it.

Delta dodged the question by changing the subject.

They didn't bring it up again.

He remembered the first time he had recieved a hug from Delta. It was during a panic attack, where Color was doubting his reality and everyone around him, desperately reaching out for anything to keep ahold of.

Delta could see the despiration in his eyes. The desperation to be loved, seen, wanted, remembered. He saw it. Without much thinking, they held him, drawing him close in one swift movement.

It was magical. Color truly had no idea what he had been missing until he had it - but he wasn't ready to let it go missing again.

He remembered collapsing into Delta's arms, sobbing into his chest as he desperately clung to him while Delta coaxed him down gently.

After about two hours of calming him down, Delta was allowed to make the mistake of attempting to let go. Color refused.

Luckily, Delta learned quickly, and did not attempt to let go until Color was ready. Color stayed attached to his hip for the rest of the day, terrified that if he let go, it would never return.

And during some of their late night talks, sometimes Delta would say that he couldn't remember a time where he didn't know Color. Days all blended together - unless something particularly exciting happened that set it apart from the other days.

Color wished he could say the same.

But in these months, these three fresh months, never had he felt so exhilarated and overwhelmed at the same time.

Every moment with Delta was precious. Delta had even managed to score Color a job at the same place so that he'd feel less alone - and would be able to adjust better.

Delta had always been the stronger one of of the two of them - from how he carried himself, to the way he'd threaten violence at any given second if someone so much as dared to breathe incorrectly in Color's direction. It was clear he was capable of great violence. Especially with how much he bragged about his fights in the past.

Color had never been more grateful to find a friend who was willing to tolerate his codependency. And Delta happily entertained it - they would never dare to admit it, but they were incredibly lonely.

And Color had learned how to carry himself, too - how to carry himself with utmost confidence, ensuring no one would dare to doubt him (except himself). He learned how to get away with most things, lying flawlessly without guilt if it was necessary. He learned that it was okay to ask for help when he needed to, when he wanted to. He learned how to love himself, even if it was just a little bit.

He learned how to interact with his Souls and Beta, and how to accept them as his reality. He learned how to be reckless and how to fight, but to also calculate and plan out moves and escapes when necessary. He learned that although life wasn't kind or safe all of the time, he had the power to make it a little kinder and a little safer - if not for himself, then for others.

He learned that for once, he had power and control over himself and his surroundings. He learned to apologize for mistakes and move on instead of deflecting them, and that it was okay to be angry and process the trauma that had been caused to him.

He had learned so much in these three months with them.

He remembered how he had doubted Delta at first, as he watched silently, analyzing every move and what it meant. Delta carried himself with nothing less than reckless confidence, so much so that no one dared to doubt him - even when he was blatantly wrong about something.

But when Delta showed him the kindness of acceptance, he doubted him a bit less each time. It didn't take too long for Color to feel comfortable enough to trust him with important things - buying and making the food, getting water, keeping them entertained and safe. Such simple things to Delta were the most important things to Color.

Yes, these memories and experiences were the core of their relationship - his favorites by far. But these dreamy memories of his were cut short by a sudden loud clang, triggering a harsh memory of when Delta had awoken to Color screaming after he accidentally hurt himself while making a late night snack.

The blood gushed out of his palm as the knife clattered to the ground, as Color frantically began to hyperventilate at the sight of his own blood.

Delta sprinted out of his room, running straight at Color as he managed to dial for help at the same time. How his hands were so steady as he sprinted at full force, Color still couldn't figure out.

He dragged Color to the bathroom, immediately beginning to hold it above Color's Soul to help stop the bloodflow as Delta got a tourniquet above the wound, on his wrist. He quietly reassured Color that the ambulance was on its way. His hands lit up in a soothing green glow, as they gently held his palm close.

He remembered the pure fear in Delta's eyes as he forcefully woke himself up, trying to hide it as they comforted Color. They whispered kind words of reassurance, holding him close as they let him cry on their shoulder.

He remembered when he was half asleep in the hospital bed, that Delta was sobbing as quietly as he could. Color couldn't hear it - but when he tried to roll his head over to look at Delta, he saw the other keeping their head down, shaking lightly as they breathed deeply, trying to hold it all in.

That was the first, and only, time that he had ever seen Delta get so scared that he cried. And it killed him to know that it was his fault his friend was crying.

In the morning, when Color woke up, Delta had clearly been awake. He wasn't sure if they had slept at all. They did not talk about the tears of last night, rather opting to check in on Color and his wound.

They did not bring it up again. And Color vowed to never make that kind of mistake again.]

Color jolted awake, with a short gasp for air as the loud, shattering clang echoed through the apartment.

His mind raced as he tried to figure out if he was still dreaming or not. He rushed to check his palm, only to see the wound closed up and scarred.

A thud followed.

His heart skipped a beat, as his body began to move without thinking. Within seconds, Color had ran from his bed to the kitchen...

... to find Delta collapsed on the ground, a pile of broken glass surrounding him.

His eyes were blank, a dull shade of the usual bright orange that greeted Color when he woke up. His expression held nothing of its normal composure, as his body slumped towards the ground on his knees.

Color froze, his eyes widening as he felt his Soul drop into his nonexistent stomach.

What the fuck?

What just happened?!

"Delta...?" His voice trembled as he spoke softly. He didn't want to startle the other.

No response.

[Is he sleep walking again? How did this even happen?] Color thought, slowly moving closer. He examined his roommate, checking for any external injuries, but there were none.

So, cautiously, Color reached out to lightly shake Delta's shoulder.

Still, no response.

Color's breathing began to get shaky as his mind raced with terrifying possibilities as to why they could be acting like this. Did something happen? Are they hurt? Were they dying? Did they need to go to the hospital? Was it even really them?

Delta wasn't even blinking. And with his hand now hesitantly resting on their shoulder, Color couldn't feel them breathing, either.

Color flinched when he realized that there was not a single movement from Delta. No flinching, no startle, not even breathing. Nothing.

He shook his roommate a little more aggressively, his breath catching in his throat as he desperately called out for him, "Delta?! Hey, come on, wake up!"

The harder Color shook him, the closer he got to getting Delta to snap out of it, even if it was just a little.

Finally, Color got desperate enough to smack him on the shoulder as hard as he felt comfortable.

As the hit landed, Delta's hand shot up and grabbed Color by the wrist, making the other flinch and gasp lightly in shock.

Delta's empty stare turned to Color, making him shiver.

He spoke softly, calling out to him, "Delta?"

Delta still gave no response. Didn't even blink. But after a minute, he slowly released Color's wrist from his grip. His hand dropped back down, hanging limply at his side.

Color was startled at how motionless it was. There was such little weight to his grip - nothing at all like he was used to. As his voice still shook, he called out again, "Delta?... can you hear me? Are you- can you answer me, please?"

He pleaded.

Luckily, he got a blink this time.

Color felt a bit relieved, at least knowing that Delta was awake now. But still, he awaited some kind of response, anything at all.

Their blank, empty stare was unnerving. There was absolutely nothing behind their eyes - just like the rest of their expression.

They tried to speak. Nothing came out.

Color's eyes widened in horror. "Delta?! Hey, hey, what's wrong? Is- is something wrong? Are you hurt? Why can't you speak? Did you-"

"I'm fine." An empty, desolate voice muttered in response.

Color flinched back, ripping his hand off of Delta's shoulder.

No. This wasn't him. This- this can't be him, right? It barely even sounds like him!

No, it can't possibly be. His eyes are too dull, voice too bleak. He wasn't even wearing his usual clothes, Color noticed. He was wearing a tank top, no gauntlets on, and black shorts and socks.

He had seen Delta sleep in those clothes before, but now it just looked wrong. Like it wasn't really them.

Was he having another nightmare?

Was this real?

There's no way this was Delta. There's just no way! There was no spark, no energy, no emotion, nothing! It was honestly creeping him out.

Seeing his brightest - and only - friend so lifeless just... wasn't right.

The Souls inside his head spoke softly, discussing what they should do to snap Delta out of it, if there was even anything they could do about it. Color listened to the options, but they all eventually agreed to try to talk to Beta first - see if he knew what was going on.

"Beta? Kiddo, you there?" Color called out, eyeing the time. It was around 3 in the morning. Surely the kid would be asleep, but maybe he could wake him up.

No response. But upon hearing his name get called out, Delta's eyes seemed to glaze over even more as their orange color slowly drained into white.

His eyes went wide as he helplessly watched all the color dissappear from their eyes.

"... okay. So that didn't work. Let's just... take him out of the glass." Color muttered to himself, slowly moving closer to Delta again.

Cautiously stopping outside of the ring of glass, Color reached down and grabbed Delta by the arms. Then, he slowly pulled him up, and dragged him out of the glass. He managed to lift them high enough to get him safely out of the ring.

Delta's body practically collapsed into Color, startling the other entirely. His whole body was just limp in Color's arms.

What was going on with them?

After adjusting the other, Color picked him up fully, and carried him over to the couch.

He gently lowered Delta onto the couch, having him lay down on his side in case anything happened. He sat on the ground in front of them.

There was a long moment of silence, before Delta spoke again.

"Are you here?" They murmured, staring emptily at the wall.

Color was surprised, but quickly nodded, "Yeah, I'm here, Del. I'm right here. Can you talk? What's going on?"

Delta tried to speak again, but nothing came out. So, slowly, they forced their arms to move up and began to sign.

'I'm sorry.'

Color was taken aback.

"... sorry for what?" He asked softly, moving a bit closer.

'I messed up. I failed.'

"What do you mean?"

'I hurt them. I couldn't save them.'

"Who couldn't you save?"

'You know.'

Color paused. Who was Delta talking about? Did they even know it was him?

"Do you know it's me, Delta?"

Delta paused for a moment. In truth, they really didn't know. But they felt the Bravery Soul nearby, and assumed it was Beta. 'Yes.'

Color breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright. But, who are you talking about?"

'Frisk.'

Color froze.

"... what do you mean? How did you fail them?" He murmured, looking over Delta's body language. But there was nothing to look at.

'They died. You know that. Don't make me say it, please.'

"Did you... have a dream about them?" Color asked, desperately trying to figure out what was going on. Why this sudden memory? And why now, of all times?

'Yeah. Was hurt again.'

"I'm sorry to hear that."

'Nothing we can do about it.'

"Do you... wanna talk about it?"

'I failed them. I couldn't save them. I killed them. It's all my fault.'

There was a long pause in their conversation. Hesitantly, Color asked, "... is something else bothering you?"

'I can't do it anymore.'

Color froze, his eyes slowly widening in terror as his Soul skipped a beat. "Wh-what do you mean by that?"

'He's hurting and I can't make it better. I'm failing him.'

The air around them held still as Color silently stared into Delta's dull eyes.

"... what?" He shakily reached to cover his mouth, absolutely horrified.

'I wanna help him so bad. But there's nothing I can do. I can't do anything right.'

"Hold on-"

'He hurts cause I can't make it any better. It's all my fault. I don't wanna fail him like the others, but I guess I'm not much good at protecting, either.'

"Delta."

'What do I have if I can't help him? Nothing. Got nothing. He got taken here so someone could help, and I can't even do that right.'

"Delta!" Color desperately tried to shake him awake, as tears pricked his eyes. What was going on? Did they really feel this way?

'It's all my fault. He's hurting and it's all my fault. Maybe they should put him with someone better. He deserves better than me.'

"Delta, listen to me-"

'First I hurt Frisk, and then Paps, and now I hurt him. Why can't I do anything right? Why can't I do what I'm supposed to? I wanna help but I keep hurting people. I'm so stupid.'

"Hey!-"

'I'm worthless if I can't help him. I have no use. They only like me when I can be useful, and I can't even do that right now. I'm such a burden. What is wrong with me?-'

"STOP!"

Delta stopped, as Color's chest heaved, breathing shakily as tears dripped down his skull.

It killed him to see how much pain Delta was in. He was heartbroken. Why hadn't they told him about this? Did they really feel like this all the time? No wonder they were so stressed out, the poor guy!

But seeing the still blank look in their eyes, Color knew he had to help.

He took a deep breath, wiping his eyes as he restrained his sobs. He couldn't cry. Not now. Not while his best friend needed him.

Once Color had calmed down quite a bit, he gently cupped Delta's face, holding it in his warm hands.

As small tears still leaked from Color's eyes, he spoke, voice trembling, "Delta, I need you to listen to me, please." He pleaded softly.

Delta nodded, 'Okay.'

Color took a deep breath as he spoke, "Delta, I don't know why you think these things or if anyone made you think them, but you are not a failure. You are not a burden, not to me or anyone else.

I don't know much about you. What you've been through, what you're going through, I don't know. You've done a really good job at hiding that. You let me know what you want me to know. I can't blame you for that - I do that, too.

But I don't want you suffering in silence. I may not be the best with emotions, and I might not be the best guy to hang around sometimes, but I care about you.

I'm sorry if I ever made you feel this way. But listen to me now - I don't think that you're a failure. I don't think you're a burden, or at fault for any of the things you've been through. Okay?"

Slowly, the color began to return to Delta's eyes. But still, he signed, 'I'm sorry. I'm weak.'

"No, you're not." Color insisted sternly, gently stroking the side of Delta's skull with his thumb, "You're not weak. You're not any of the horrible things you claim you are.

You're not weak. You're not a burden. You're certainly not a failure. And you're most definetly not stupid."

There was another pause, as Color calmed himself. And gently, still cupping Delta's face with his right hand, he trailed the other to Delta's hand, which had slowly dropped back down when they had finished speaking.

Delta managed to speak. "Why?" They whispered.

Color's eyes saddened. "Well, if you really don't know... then let me tell you.

Listen, I know we've only known each other for a couple months, but... you've helped me more than anyone else ever has. You've put up with me when no one else wanted to - when even I didn't want to. But you stuck by my side, didn't leave me alone, even when I annoyed you.

You protected me. Remember when that guy at the Cafe harassed me? You punched the shit out of him and then brought me home. You didn't let him hurt me, even though you didn't know anything about me at that point.

And the nightmares? You stayed with me. You woke me up when we stayed together in your room, even let me sleep in your bed while you slept on the floor when I was too scared to be touched. And even when I woke you up screaming, you held me, calmed me down. And you never got mad! You never yelled at me, even when you had work in the morning.

And at work, whenever I was able to show up, you always protected me, made excuses for me when I couldn't show up. You always kept me safe, even when you weren't around. They knew they couldn't hurt me because you'd hurt them back, even if you got in trouble for it.

You've helped me more than you even know. You taught me how to live again - literally! I didn't even know how to eat when I first got here, but you were patient enough to teach me how to use the utensils. You even helped me wash up when I physically couldn't do it myself.

You always got me to my doctor appointments, even leaving work early to drive me there. You put up with me even when I didn't want to go, and when I exploded because I was so scared of them. And you always made sure to call the doctors when I needed help and couldn't call anyone for myself, even when I got mad at you for it.

Even when I was tired and depressed, you took care of me. You made sure I ate and bathed at the very least, even if you couldn't drag me out of the house. You did everything that you could to help me, and succeeded. No one had ever done that for me before. You were the first.

You stuck by my side, even when I got sick and got you sick in return. I didn't mean to, I still feel kinda bad about it. But you never made me feel like a burden, or like it was a mistake that you got paired with me. You've always been so good to me.

You never made me feel like an asshole, even when I acted like it. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like this, but... you've saved me more times than I can even count.

Like that time when I was too paranoid to let anyone in the house, including you. You were patient with me and talked me down from the other side, even though I was having a panic attack because I was alone. You stayed with me until I was calm enough to use logic and let you in. And even still, you weren't mad at me! I honestly don't know how you put up with me sometimes.

And remember when I cut myself on accident that one night? You woke up and were literally at my side in seconds. And you called for help while calming me down, trying to keep me from passing out. You certainly weren't useless then, so why would you be now?

I know we didn't talk about it again after that night, but... I saw you crying when I woke up. I didn't even notice it at first - you were so quiet about it. But I saw it. And I'm sorry that I didn't say this before, but you're not weak for crying.

I'm not... even sure if that's what you're thinking right now. But in case you are, I really don't think you're weak for crying.

You never made me feel weak for crying. So why make yourself feel that way? You don't deserve that hate, even if it's coming from yourself.

I know I don't say it a lot, but I really care about you. Even when I'm scared or angry or overwhelmed with the world, you're the only good part of it. You've practically kept me sane! You've helped me in more ways than I can even count. And I certainly wouldn't call that failure, now, would I?" He smiled.

The longer Color spoke for, the more the orange spark return to Delta's eyes. And by the time he finished, Delta had come back into reality fully - having no clue what was going on or why, but appreciated being woken up from whatever had happened with fond memories and kind words.

Color smiled softly at them. "Hey, buddy. Glad you're back."

Delta nodded, propping himself up with the arm that Color wasn't holding. However, he gladly let Color's hand stay on his face, and lightly nuzzled into it, still confused, "Uh, hey... what happened? How'd I get here?" He asked softly, glancing around.

"I honestly have no idea. I heard glass breaking and saw you in the kitchen, but you weren't answering me - totally out of it. So I got you away from the glass and brought you over here. You didn't look hurt, but... you started talking, and-"

"Wait, wait, lemme stop you there. What do you mean I was in the kitchen?" Delta asked, his eyes going slightly wide as he realized that there was no lying out of this situation. He was going to have to tell Color about the episodes.

He sat up fully, making Color back up a bit and take his hand off of Delta's face. However, when he tried to let go of Delta's hand, he instead tightened his grip slightly - he didn't want to let go yet.

Color gladly obliged.

"Well, I got woken up by the glass, and saw you in the kitchen. You were on the ground and the glass was all around you. Don't know how you got there, though - your guess is as good as mine." He answered.

Delta nodded along, turning to look back into the kitchen. And sure enough, the ring of glass was still there, not yet cleaned up.

"... huh. That's really weird." They muttered.

Color couldn't help but snicker at that. "You're telling me, man." He replied.

Delta turned back, his brain still processing all of this, "You said I woke you up? Shit, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to."

"Hey, no, don't worry about it. Whatever happened, didn't look like you had much control over." Color replied, smiling reassuringly. "Do you remember anything?"

"Uhh, sorta. I remember I was laying in bed, then-" a look of realization dawned on their face. "... oh."

Color tilted his head. "What?"

"... um. Okay. I got something to explain." They muttered, sighing.

Color was even more confused. He motioned for Delta to go on, and he did. "So, I had a nightmare last night. And, sometimes, when I have nightmares, I tend to... dissociate."

"Dissociate?" Color repeated. The hell did that mean? Delta hadn't taught him that word yet.

"Yeah. Um, I lose grip on reality, I'd have no clue what's going on whatsoever. That brings me to a question, though. Did I say anything weird?" Delta looked nervous even asking it.

Color thought for a moment. Would he classify those things as 'weird'? I mean, they were definetly abnormal, so maybe that's what they mean.

He nodded. "I mean, for you, kinda. I've never heard you speak that way before."

Their Soul sunk. Oh fuck. What did they say?

"Oh, that's great." He muttered sarcastically.

Unfortunately, Color didn't quite understand sarcasm yet. He quickly replied, "Not really. It was kinda scary - you started going on about a lot of things, things I didn't even know you were thinking about. Do you want me to repeat it?-"

"No."

The sudden venom in their voice was startling enough to make Color stop. He quietly examined his friend. Had he said something wrong? Were they angry at him for talking too much? Why were they upset?

But when he looked at them, instead of anger, Color saw hurt. Their face was twisted in a deep sadness, clearly having not expected things to go down like this.

They didn't talk for a good few minutes, until Delta spoke up first.

"You weren't meant to know." He muttered, staring at the ground in shame.

Color tried to say something, but Delta continued on, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to be weak. Not when you needed someone to help you. It'd be unfair of me to burden you after you just got out of basically solitary confinement for 20 years of your life.

And after everything I've seen you go through, fuck, you've been hurting so much. And it's not your fault at all - I ain't saying that I'm uncomfortable around you or anything like that, just... didn't think I'd need to tell you so soon. I'm sorry."

Color stared up at him for a long moment, before asking, "Do you think I'm weak for needing help, Delta?"

Delta tensed, instinctively looking up with pure worry in his eyes, "What?! No, not at all!"

But before he could say anything else, Color replied in an even tone, "Then why do you think that you're weak for needing help?"

Silence.

Delta stared at him, his eyes wide as he tried to figure out if Color was joking or not - if they had said something to upset him. But when they saw the empathy in his eyes, they realized what it really meant.

"... I guess I didn't... really think of it that way." They sheepishly admitted, glancing away from him.

Color couldn't help but smile, as he moved closer. He sat on the couch, and Delta gladly made room for him. Instinctively, like Delta had done many times for him, Color slinked an arm around his shoulder and held him close.

Delta tensed at first, but eventually relaxed into Color's arms.

"That's alright. I'm not mad, obviously. Can't really get upset at you for hiding things when I haven't exactly been the most vulnerable," Color said, making them both chuckle lightly.

"But, still. If you have these problems, I wanna help. It's not fair if you only help me and I don't help you back. So let me help. Okay?" Color asked softly, smiling at him.

Delta was surprised. He wasn't used to being able to let his guard down - he never knew when it was safe to relax without worrying about someone catching him and picking a fight when he was vulnerable.

Vulnerability was not a concept he was comfortable with yet.

But as he looked deep into Color's eyes, he knew that he was safe - he didn't know why, but... something inside him was telling him that he was safe to let his guard down.

He relaxed, nodding slowly as a smile crept up on his face. "Okay."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Alright. You, uh, wanna talk about it?" Color offered, still concerned.

Delta thought for a moment, but shook his head. He really didn't. He didn't want to think about it anymore.

Color nodded, "That's okay. I definetly can't blame you for that. But, if you do, let me know - I'm here to listen, alright?" He asked, gently rubbing Delta's shoulder.

Delta nodded. "I will. Thank you."

"It's no problem. Think you can go back to sleep, or do you wanna stay up? We can watch a movie, or play a game - go on a walk, if you want." Color offered, knowing that Delta would probably need different options if he wanted a distraction.

Delta thought for a long moment, quietly speaking to Beta about what to do. They settled on a movie.

"I don't think I'm ready to go back to sleep. Could we watch something?" They asked quietly.

Color nodded, "That's fine. Need anything to drink, eat?"

They shook their head, "No, I'm alright. You can get something if you want to, though."

Color paused to think. But after all of this, he decided to just get up and grab Delta some water anyways. "I'm gonna get some water. Wanna come with?"

Delta debated it for a moment, but decided to get up with him. And the two quickly stood, and walked over to the kitchen.

"Watch the glass," Color reminded him, as he used his magic to get two mugs down for them.

Delta was distracted, however, and was now focused on getting something Beta was demanding - hot chocolate.

It was always the kid's favorite drink of choice after a bad nightmare. And after a night like this, they deserved it.

Color only seemed to notice when he heard the microwave start humming. He quickly turned around, to see Delta ready with a hot chocolate packet and extra marshmallows ready.

They both just stared at each other for a moment.

"... want one?" Delta offered. Color nodded, and went over to get started on his.

It took only a few minutes to prepare it, but Color was still confused. However, he wasn't sure if it'd be okay to ask.

Delta, intuitive as ever, knew he was confused. They answered before he asked, "Tradition for Beta and I. After a bad night, we get hot chocolate."

Color nodded, smiling lightly, "Awe, that's sweet."

The two finished their hot chocolates, and quickly headed back over to the couch. They placed their mugs on the table in front of them, getting out blankets and pillows so the couch would be more comfortable.

Once they had finished setting up, Color handed Delta the remote. "You pick."

Delta nodded, thanking him. But, to Color's surprise, he immediately started looking for The Lion King.

Color quickly turned to them, making Delta chuckle lightly, a bit embarrassed. "Tradition."

He chuckled, nodding back as Delta clicked 'play'. Color slung his arm around them again, holding them close as they drank their hot chocolates and watched the movie.

After a little bit, Delta found themselves getting lulled back to sleep as their body slowly relaxed. They tried to resist, not wanting to have another nightmare, but Color gently coaxed him into it.

The rest of the night was peaceful, as Delta fell asleep in Color's arms, holding them close - keeping them safe.

#emzy's writing #psychee's writing #emzy's posts #psychee's posts #delta #delta sans #color sans

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