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zozo-01 · 12 hours ago

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"humanity will never lose hope (but you're not that human anymore, are you?)"

Or: Finding out that you lover never changes, no matter which world you stand on in 12.4k words.

Oh my God, of course my first full fic in a year is over ten thousand words. Oh well, I love Phainon and I love Kevin, so that this as my love letter to both of my favourite Hoyo men.

Shout out to @baeshijima who I've been torturing with snippets for the last few months and @horrorscoupes and @gingerbreadmonsters who I have also been sending snippets to, except they have no idea what's going on. (Join the dark side please I beg.)

CW: Angst, Hurt/Kind of Comfort, Bittersweet Endings, Alternate Timeline, Not Canon Compliant, kevin kaslana haunting the reader for the rest of over, phainon is so clueless and in love, Unrequited love, more two people using each other to fill the void, Mentions of Self-Harm, Suicidal Ideation, we love self-deprication!, Marriage, Thoughts of Motherhood, Kevin's reader uses she/her pronouns, Phainon's reader uses they/them pronouns, Amphoreus has me aching for more, reader is the PE's Herrscher of the End, she Kiana'd the Herrscher and that's how she's still alive, Writing this before the ending of amphoreus so I could be very very right, or very very wrong

click here for the ao3 link!!!

It was just your luck that the lance that struck you out of the sky had separated you from your companions. Seriously, doesn't this planet know that it's common courtesy to radio in before you deem the flying object as a threat? This was not a good look for Amphoreus, and you shiver to think about how the rest of your trip will go.

For once, you would appreciate it if the Express could take a nice vacation by the beach. Or in a metropolitan area. Literally, anything that doesn't have to include saving or dooming the world you're standing on. You'd like to think that you've had enough world-altering missions for a lifetime.

Stumbling out of the rubble of the train car, you take in your surroundings. Perhaps back in its heyday, Amphoreus must have been a gorgeous place, with marble statues littered across the land of the heroes that have long protected their home. It reminded you of the Ancient Greek ruins that you were obsessed with. It's strange, to see familiar sights on every planet you visited, yet being so far from home. You wonder if those ancient ruins survived the destruction you brought on.

(The Honkai never left behind survivors. Even those who lived to tell the tale had their souls ripped from them. You were no exception, but that didn't mean that you wouldn't take back what was rightfully yours. Your journey to heal from your past felt like a glacier. You hope that your current comrades— no, friends, could help you move on from your past.)

You wander around the temple, not sure of what to do next. Worry filled you for your companions, not because they weren't capable, but because of the collective stupidity that seemed to arise whenever young members of the train were trailblazing. In theory, March being back at the train and Dan Heng's rational self should be enough to keep them safe, but Stelle has become such a wildcard, you don't put anything past her. She and her bat were capable of putting the entire world at risk. You were surprised that no one had come up to you to arrest you because of something she did.

At the end of the day, those two were your companions and it was best to put your trust in them. You just hope that they don't do anything stupid without you knowing. At least with you there, there would be an adult to make sound decisions. You chuckle to yourself, wondering when during your life you of all people decided to become the responsible one.

To be honest, you always felt odd about considering the younger Express members as peers. Because yes, you seem roughly the same age, with your youthful looks and durable limbs, always eager to seek out the next challenge. But if anyone looked into your eyes, really looked into your soul, they could see that time has ravaged you in ways no mortal should have gone through. Fifty thousand years is a long life to live for anyone, let alone a human. Yet you spent that time in isolation, your only company being the monster you swore you'd never become.

(You had only two reasons to endure. Your love for humanity and your love for him. The world survived, no thanks to you. He wasn't as lucky.)

Enough pondering, there were more pressing matters that you needed to take care of. Like finding Stelle and Dan Heng and figuring out how the hell to get out of here without causing too much trouble.

You were careful to walk through the ruins of the land, flinching at the crumbling stone surrounding you. The lack of light didn't help either in finding out where to go. You were hoping that eventually, there would be some ruckus– loud whining from Stelle or maybe Dan Heng's dragon guiding you to the rest of your team. Unfortunately, no such sights or sounds have reached your senses. Or maybe it is fortunate that no chaos started. Yet.

Part of you wanted to use your powers to just fly up and track Dan Heng and Stelle. It would be so easy and would waste unnecessary time. Time that you could be spending on figuring out what the hell was the deal with Amphoreus and how to contact the Astral Express. You can almost hear Welt reminding you why that's a bad idea, not that you don't disagree with him.

"We don't know what effect your Herrscher powers could have in this place and it looks like this universe doesn't even know what the Honkai is. We don't want to start another eruption."

You sigh. What a shame. All the power in the world and you're relegated to using some watered-down version of it in the form of Aeons and their paths. You wouldn't have had it any other way.

Absolutely would you never dare to use your true powers in this relatively peaceful universe. There is lingering fear left in you over the events of your rebirth. You wish you could say that you didn't remember anything, that the evil sealed within you had granted you the mercy of losing consciousness when they took control. But destiny did not care that you didn't choose this fate, it punished you all the same.

The bodies of your friends, dare you call them family, carelessly slewed across the grey land. Hands that once held yours in dance with music in the air, could barely hold onto their weapons that they swore they'd use to save humanity. One by one, they fell like the brightest shooting stars until a garden of corpses surrounded you and your beloved. He was covered in blood, of his own and his friends, with burning anguish in his glacier eyes. You remember teasing him that red was never his colour.

The ring on your finger was a cold reminder of his warmth. Your eyes tear up as the blue diamond reminds you of his eyes.

You strengthen your resolve and wipe your tears. Enough about the past! What's done is done and all you can do is prevent it from happening again. He's not here anymore and there's no use crying about it right now. You made a promise to his descendant that not only will you live, but you will live long enough until the Honkai has been properly defeated and that your powers will not be passed down to you in the next cycle.

(You'll do your crying when you're alone in bed, pretending that his arms are wrapped around you. Oh, how you would sacrifice planets to bring him back if only to see him one last time. Hopefully, should you be granted another chance, your reunion will be less bloody. One could argue that you aren't at your best when you have your lover's lance piercing through you.)

Why is it that being on Amphoreus is causing these memories to flood your brain again? Perhaps it is because this is the first time since you joined the Express that you have been left alone in your thoughts. Ever since your self-imposed imprisonment, you detested the silence, having been left alone with your thoughts for far too long. It's part of the reason why you loved Stelle's presence. Never a dull moment with her and it was enough for you to push down whatever feelings would bubble up.

Very rarely did you wish that you were more Herrscher than human if only to get rid of those pesky feelings that leave you gasping for air. Disgusting.

Maybe the quiet is doing you some good, giving you the time and space to properly process your emotions instead of dismissing them for later. You let yourself indulge in the good memories, reminding yourself that your past wasn't entirely doom and gloom. That's what made the tragedies of your life all the more painful. The sleepovers you had with Elysia, the pointless yet invigorating debates with Su and the wheat fields you and Kevin would walk down as children.

(Wait a minute, you never knew Kevin as a kid. You had met him shortly after he joined Fire MOTH. And even so, both of you grew up in metropolitan areas with no farmland in sight.)

(These weren't your memories, so who did they belong to?)

Before you can think too hard over the maybe false memories, you hear the screams of children coming from the ruins ahead of you. Without thinking you rush ahead, your heroic instincts taking over.

You turn the corner and find a young boy and a young girl, with the boy standing in between her and the stone monster. He raised his flimsy sword to try and fight the monster off, with fear and resignation in his eyes. You knew that look all too well. Even if he doesn't make it out of here, he can make sure that this little girl can get to safety. Fat chance kid, there will be no more dying kids on your watch.

"Hey!" you yell at the stone creature to catch its attention. Thankfully, it was enough to take its attention off the kids and onto you. You don't feel any fear as it hulks over, its loud footsteps and towering figure doing nothing more than making you chuckle. Silly, silly monster. Didn't it know that it sealed its face by facing something more terrifying than itself?

You didn't think twice before throwing your sword towards it, following the sword to make sure it landed on its target. You use the handle of your weapon as a pushing-off point for a backflip, making sure its blade sinks as deep as it can into the monster. The monster crumbles back into the ground as you approach the two children, kneeling down to make yourself less threatening.

"You kids alright?" you ask, eyes tracking their faces for any visible injuries. Luckily the children didn't suffer any severe injuries, the worst only being what you assume are going to be sore limbs from all the running they did today. Their nods of agreement quelled any lingering worry that you had. You add another mental note about the things you learned about Amphoreus so that you can somewhat communicate with the locals.

But before you can ask them why they were out here alone, the statues that you didn't notice earlier crumbled their hard shells to reveal the monsters within them. Now you're surrounded by five statue monsters and with two children to look after. On the bright side, these two might be easier to take care of than your fellow Trailblazers.

"I don't have time for this," you mumble to yourself, pushing the children behind you. It was just your luck that you had to face off against enemies in this world, with no knowledge of what you were going up against and with no backup. (No, the little boy and his poor excuse of a sword do not count as backup in your books.) It mattered little though, you have gone up against the worst in the past and you will continue to encounter worse in the future.

More and more statues stalk closer towards you, with their clunky movements causing the children to quiver in fear, mumbling something about Nikador's wrath, whatever that meant. Part of you was considering using your natural powers to make quick work of the statues, already annoyed that you've wasted enough time here. Sure there are consequences if you accidentally triggered an eruption, but those can be dealt with later.

With a snap of your fingers, portals opened around you, orange in colour and slicing their way into this universe. Out came a lance for each creature and in a blink of an eye they crumbled before you, turning back into the stone they came from. That was one problem done thankfully, and if all of Amphoreus' enemies were that easy to deal with, then you should have no problem traversing the rest of the planet, if you could even consider it a planet. You just hope that you won't have to use any more of your powers.

You turn around to make sure the children you are protecting are okay, but instead of fear, you are met with excited expressions, like they hadn't almost died from a falling rock. The young girl started jumping and dancing around, while the boy pumped his fist in the air.

"That was so cool! The way you summon those flying lances and beat those titankins. You have to be a Chrysos heir– no a Demigod! Just like the ones mom used to tell us about!" The child went on about Titans and prophecies that you couldn't wrap your head around entirely. This is not what you meant when you had wanted a crash course on Amphoreus history.

"I'm… not a Chrysos Heir, just someone trying to find her way through this area." You didn't want to break this kid's delusion, but it would be better than trying to lie your way and break his heart later on.

(Come to think of it, why didn't they immediately single you out as someone beyond the stars? You clearly don't look or sound like you belong here, but these children were willing to believe that you were one of them. You were about to introduce yourself as a Trailblazer, but something told you that it would land you into major trouble later on. Besides, do these people even know of the Trailblaze? Let's not confuse them anymore.)

"Oh," the boy visibly deflated, but immediately perked back up. "But that doesn't matter, thank you for saving us!" The young boy and girl launched themselves at you to give you a hug. You didn't know what to do except give them an awkward pat on the back. Still, they endeared you enough to earn a small smile on your face.

"It's not a big deal," you said as you kneeled down. "As long as you two are safe, then that's all that matters. Where are your parents though?" You wonder what parents would be neglectful enough to leave their children in a monster-infested area in this eternally dark place.

You regret asking that question so casually though, as the young girl's eyes tear up and she lets out small sniffles. She puts her hand over her mouth to quiet herself, but it doesn't do much to muffle her cries. The boy on the other hand looked away to the distance and bit his lips, trying to keep it from quivering. You commend his attempt to put on a strong front in front of his sister, but you could see right through his facade.

"Our parents were killed by the Black Tide while we were trying to escape to Okhema," the young boy murmured, almost like if he said it quietly enough, he could somehow will them back to existence. It's a hope that you had before.

You didn't know how to comfort them. Even before your exile, your military upbringing always made it difficult for you to comfort civilians. In your line of work, where death is so common it could be counted as a part of your squadron, all you could do was bury your feelings along with your comrade and pray that you won't have to bring home another corpse. And that was the best-case scenario, better than having to look into their infected eyes and do the honours for yourself.

(Elysia was always good at comforting people, and you miss having her presence to take over in situations like this. Even Kevin's awkward fumbling when it came to this was charming enough to make people laugh and make them feel better. Not you though. No one wants comfort from a monster.)

You shake your head. You're not a monster anymore and these kids need more comfort than you need pity.

"I'm sorry for your loss, but we have to keep going." You wipe the tears falling from their faces, letting them put the full weight of their heads into your hands. With a softer voice, you continue. "I know it's hard, but it's not safe here. We'll go to Okhema and figure out the rest there, okay?"

They nod their heads and you can see the resolve building itself in their eyes. The boy picked up his sword and raised it in the air with a triumphant cry.

"Yeah! We'll get to Okhema and make the Black Tide pay for taking our home!" he loudly declared. Without waiting for you or his sister, he strutted away in what you hope is in the direction of Okhema. Not that you would stand a better chance if they relied on you on where to go.

"I'm sorry about my brother," the girl sighed. "Once he gets something in his head, he doesn't stop until he makes it come true." This sounds like an issue she's been long aware of.

"It's okay," you say as you stand up with a smile. You hold your hand out to her for her to hold, and once she does, you both take off to follow the brother. "As long as you stand by his side, you two will be able to do anything."

"That's right!" she hollered out, jumping in place before holding onto your hand. Their bond endeared you, your heart always warming when you see family stick together. You wonder about your own family back home, before you were thrown into Fire MOTH. They had long since passed due to the Honkai, slightly your fault. But your new family, the Flame-Chasers, had effortlessly taken their place. For longer than some of these planets have been around when you think of family, you think of the twelve shining soldiers standing in front of you. Ready were they to die for humanity, and you wished you were given the blessing to join them. Not yet though, you still have old debts to pay and retribution to collect.

Taking these kids to Okhma has given you two things. The first was company to stop you from slipping into your thoughts and musings. With how loud and talkative they were, there wasn't a silent moment left for you to fill.

The second was some of the answers to the questions you have about this world.

The most important thing you learn is the names of the two children you saved. The young boy introduced himself and Aris and his younger sister as Pallas. Both hailed from the distant lands of Castrum Kremnos but never got to visit their homeland, as it had been infected by the Black Tide many years ago. Their ancestors had moved the Janusopolis, which was deemed safer due to the protection of the Titan, Janus. However, even that mighty city fell, as you were walking on her ruins today.

They mention the Black Tide, an evil that apparently has been taking over the entirety of this world. Apparently, it infects every living thing it touches, turning its lifeforms into dark and twisted versions of themselves, hellbent on consuming and destroying everything in its path. Supposedly it has no master, acting with no drive except the sole desire of annihilation. (If there was a camera nearby, you would have stared into it, asking the audience if they thought this was funny to them.)

They spoke of the twelve Titans that ruled over Amphoreus, the miracles they brought on and the devout worship from its peoples. As Children of Castrum Kremnos, both Aris and Pallas worshiped the Strife Titan, Nikador. Aris especially was excited to tell their tales of war and battle and of honour and sacrifice. Pallas had to be the one to solemnly let you know that the Titan had been infected by the Black Tide in their eternal battle with it. Now all that remains is a mindless beast that attacks anything living.

Finally, they explained the Chrysos Heirs and Demigods, the thing they accused you of being. Apparently, there was a prophecy that there would be twelve Chrysos Heirs, beings of golden blood, who would assume the authority of the Titans and lead this nation to an era of eternal peace.

The more and more they told you about the world that you crash-landed on, the more uncomfortable you were over how eerily similar your life was to this universe's destiny. You knew that parallel universes meant parallel timelines, and that your story would be remixed across dimensions. You remember how Acheron reacted to your presence and your solemn sigh when you found out that you didn't survive in her story either. But you're one crazy coincidence away from grabbing your Trailblazers and nopeing the fuck out of this planet. You do not need to be traumatized– or you suppose retraumatized.

(You come to the realization that in every universe, within every timeline, you do not get a happy ending. Your only regret is that it seems like you keep on dragging your lover into your doomed destiny. Misery does indeed love company.)

On the bright side, Aris and Pallas did answer some of your questions. That still didn't solve the issue of your missing companions. You only hope that they haven't gotten into any trouble.

The marble gates on Okhema greet you and your mini companions, and relief courses through your veins because finally, something is going right. Aris even ran ahead in excitement, ready to take on his new home. But he didn't see the falling stone in his peripheral vision, his tunnel vision set on the crumbling gate. Luckily you did, jumping into the air to slice to rock before it could fall on the poor boy.

Of course, just your luck. Trouble had to find you first.

You were skeptical that Okhema was considered a safe haven when all you could see were those same stone monsters that you saved the children from. Titankin, you remember Aris calling them that.

You push the two children behind you, eyes darting back and forth between the Titankin surrounding the three of you. You could see the guards past the hordes of statues, but you had a feeling that they wouldn't be able to get to you in time. No matter, you get cornered once, you get cornered a thousand times.

Through the gaps of the stone wall closing in on you, you can see what you assume are Okheman guards trying to fight off the Titankin. You were just about to summon more of your lances, but before you could, you and the children were surrounded by a wall of red crystal.

You couldn't see through the solid red crystal, but you could hear the sounds of the Titankin crumbling back into the stone they came from. There was the sound of a man grunting, but it was so soft that you assumed that he wasn't exerting too much effort like these stone statues were nothing to him.

(Jealousy bubbled in you. That would be you had your powers not come with destructive consequences.)

A moment later, there was silence. The three of you stayed still with bated breath, eager to discover the result of the battle. One crack appeared in the crystal, followed by another. You throw yourself over the children to prevent them from the shards of the crumbling wall falling around you.

You look up and in the distance stands the man who was responsible for this destruction.

Blond hair with red dyed tips, he had a tall stature with muscle and scars you could assume he only gained through constant battle. The fabric pooling around his lower body did nothing to hide the red markings on his chest, a warning for his enemies to stay away. But what captured you were his eyes. A deep red with a fire that you have only seen in one man, a very long time ago.

Kalpas…?

You dare not speak his name out loud, not wanting to make this more real than it already was.

But it seemed like you weren't the only one staring at a ghost.

A look of recognition? Of longing? Of fear? You couldn't tell because it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. He only gave himself a split second of vulnerability before he reminded himself that he was a soldier and this was a battlefield. The only reunion either of you has time for is the one you will have with death. This was a sentiment you are all too familiar with.

"Lord Mydeimos!" Aris exclaimed. You trusted his judgement enough to give this man the barest amount of benefit of the doubt.

Mydeimos looked you up and down, taking note of your foreign clothing. His eyes singled out the golden ticket pendant you have, and you could only assume that he'd seen the ticket recently.

"Your comrades are on their way to Nikador at Marmoreal Palace," Mydeimos stated. You sighed with relief. Dan Heng and Stelle were alive and they had some sort of help with them. Still unnerved over the ghost standing in front of you, you looked back at the two kids standing behind you, your mind already set on your next steps.

"She can't fight Nikador! She's not an Heir," Pallas cried out, moving to stand in front of you. She was trying to stop you from what she believes is you throwing your life away. Her older brother joined her protest, saying how it would be better if Mydeimos went and fought Nikador himself.

"You'll look after the children?" you ask, but it is more of a command than a question. You made sure to reflect the light of the sun against your blade, making it visible and knowing what would happen to him if the children weren't safe.

He gave no response except for a quick nod, and that was enough for you, so long as he understood the consequences of his failure.

The children were in tears when you told them that you would go to Marmoreal Palace. They cry and plead for you to stay and have someone else deal with this, but you were never good at letting other people help you.

"I will be okay." You gave them a hug, trying to pour a little bit of relief into their bodies so they'd stop worrying. "Stay with Lord Mydeimos, he'll keep you safe," you ordered them both. You pull away from the hug and they nod, having learned that following your directions has kept them alive so far.

"This is not a goodbye. I will find you two again." This wasn't going to be another empty promise that you were going to break.

"You better come back to us!" Aris demanded, before running to hide behind the blond man, Pallas following closely behind him.

Before you could ask where the fuck Marmoreal Palace even was, a golden thread appeared out of nowhere, leading your eyes to a large building on the horizon. Well, that answered your question.

Mydeimos may have mentioned something about Aglaea guiding your way, but you didn't care to stay and listen. Immediately, you run off to follow the golden thread, hoping that you'll be able to get there in time to save their asses once again.

But even at your top speed, it still took you time to run over to the Palace. Time that you used to absorb the fact that you just saw Kalpas again. It was one thing for you or Kevin or Elysia had counterparts across the universe, but Kalpas? It meant that there was a chance that the rest of the Flame-Chasers were alive. That you would see him again, even if it's not the man you fell in love with.

It was one thing to hear Acheron's story. This is going to be a whole trainwreck that you weren't emotionally prepared enough to deal with. But then again, how do you prepare to see the friends that you carelessly murdered? Were you ready to face your sins, Destroyer?

You don't know which outcome you hope for more. That your past would just leave you alone and die just like your world did. Or that you would see your friends again, albeit in a completely different scenario. You would do anything to see Kevin, yes, but only if it's your Kevin. The boy who would hold all your shopping bags in one hand just so that he can keep one hand free to hold you. The man who held you to his chest to stop you from ending your life prematurely. Who held you in your final moments.

That's who you want, not some cheap imitation that could never reach your man. No offence to this world's Kevin.

You hear the grunts inside the palace before you see the mechanical creature surrounded by the fountain and the same golden thread that guided you here. To be honest, the Titan didn't seem that impressive. Sure it's massive, but size never equals power and you know that one slash from your greatsword would be enough to finish it off.

(History may remember the Judgment of Shamash as Kevin's weapon, but you and the sword knew who was its true owner. He was just keeping it warm, sharp and ready for your return.)

Your greatsword feels like home in your hands, and you revel in her power coursing through your veins.

("She's just as beautiful and destructive as you are." An amused voice spoke up, followed by strong arms wrapping around your waist. A mop of white hair tickled the skin on your neck. You wish you could bottle this moment and experience it for an eternity.)

You could see your two companions, as well as a white-haired knight fighting against the Titan. You knew what your next action should be.

Without a chance to hesitate about your own decision, you charge forward toward the Titan, flames blazing behind you. They gave you enough speed and strength to slice Nikador in half. You don't see their dismembered body, but the thud on the ground gives you the impression that you won the fight.

It was strange that they went down so easily, but your worried thoughts were cut off by your gray-haired chaos machine jumping into your arms.

"You're alive!" Stelle held you up in her arms, squeezing the Herrscher core out of you. You could feel your lungs collapsing in your chest with the strength of her hug. It was only when Dan Heng came over to pry your favourite baseball player off of you that you could finally breathe.

"It's good to see you too," you say with fondness. Things are always lively when you have your fellow Astral Express members around, and you know your mission on Amphoreus was just about to get more interesting. "I trust that you have been keeping out of trouble." The guilty look on Dan Heng's face and the nervous chuckle from Stelle made you sigh. You wouldn't have your idiots act any other way.

"Well, we had help," Dan Heng explained. "We were lucky to meet some of the locals before fighting the Titankin." You're grateful that they were able to have more guidance than you did. Not that you weren't thankful for Aris and Pallas. You should probably check on them sooner than later.

"Please! We did most of the work anyways." Stelled crossed her arms, a pout on her face. She pointed to someone or something behind you with an accusatory point. "The only thing Phainon did was steal my bat and break Cloud Piercer!"

You sigh, already knowing that Stelle added her usual dramatic flair to what has happened. You make a note to ask Dan Heng for a more accurate recount of events. This poor Phainon didn't have to catch her backhanded comments, especially if he was keeping them safe.

You turn around to thank this white knight, but you can't get the words out once you see his face.

Snow white hair. Piercing blue eyes. Even his clothes were a close replica of Kevin's. You almost didn't want him to speak, in fear that he also sounded like him. This was it, the one thing you feared. Knowing that there were alternate versions of your lover. A million lives that he can lead. A million heartbreaks waiting to happen.

It seems that this Kevin– Phainon had the same thoughts going through his head. But unlike you, his body couldn't hold the weight of his pain. He fell to his knees and it took everything in you to not hold him to your chest. The familiar words of comfort lay at the tips of your tongue, but they wouldn't be heard by the person who they were meant to, just a familiar stranger.

"Starlight..." his voice wobbled. Your soul left your body, leaving behind an aching heart at the sight of his watery eyes. Or maybe it was just your tears blurring your vision. Another memory you kept buried forced its way into your consciousness.

("Starlight, really?" You raise your eyebrows at the cheesy name. "Can't you be a little less romantic?")

(His laugh or the heavenly trumpets filled the air. He took a string from your hoodie (that you were borrowing from him) and kissed it, his old habits never leaving him. Kevin knew he was able to touch you, the sub-zero temperature not affecting you. But ever the gentleman, he did everything he could to keep you safe. Really, that should have been your job.)

("Your eyes sparkle under the stars, and you are the only light who is keeping me tethered to this world." He let go of the drawstring and pulled you in for a kiss. You put your hands around his neck and swayed in his arms, overwhelmed by the rare peace your snowstorm brought you.)

("You're making it harder to pull away from you," you mumble against his lips. You had to go to a briefing for a solo mission in an hour, but you weren't ignorant of the double meaning of your words. You knew he was too smart to let it go over his head. With every Herrscher that fell, you could feel the Honkai tightening its grip around your soul. Despite everything you could do to fight it, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the Honkai took over and you reset the universe.)

(You had it drilled into your conscious that it would be better for you to die in some corner if only to buy this world some time.)

(He absolutely hated that sentiment, going borderline feral any time someone brought up that cursed plan. The one time that you had brought it up, you weren't allowed to leave his bed for a week, for fear that if he let you go, you would go to the void and he would have no choice but to follow you. You never want him dying on your behalf. Humanity needs its hero and you were not selfish enough to take that away from it.)

("So don't go," he growled, kissing you with more passion this time. He pulled you closer, chest firmly pressed up against yours. Even if he knew what was to come, you know that he would forsake any prophecy to keep you here.)

(This kiss was everything you wished you had time to tell each other. I love you. I want you. I miss you, even though you're standing in front of me. I'm scared. I don't know what's coming next. I wish things were different.)

(I love you. I love you. I love you.)

(For the longest time, you thought that this would be enough for you. That you could hold onto these memories to keep you warm.)

"Ms. (Y/N)..."

Dan Heng's voice snapped you out of your trip down memory lane. You didn't even realize the golden-haired lady appearing right in front of you.

You clear your throat and wipe the tears from your eyes. This was all getting too much for you, and you were desperate to break something to make you feel better. That didn't exclude you. But your team needed you to be on your best behaviour, even if it was just to have a steady leader to guide them through this mission.

"I'm fine, Dan Heng," you whispered to him. You knew he wasn't a fool to miss your shaky smile, but you were thankful that he had the tact to at least ask about it later.

"New allies of Okhema, welcome to Amphoreus." The golden-haired lady spoke up, her voice soothing your early stress and anxieties. It reminded you of how Aponia used to casually manipulate the Fire MOTH soldiers to stop harassing you, saying that it was only in her interest to have someone in power indebted to you. Looks like you were finally getting the chance to pay her back for everything she has done for you.

"While this welcome banquet is far from elegant, it has helped to remove any misgivings we had," she— Aglaea, continued. You side-eyed Dan Heng and Stelle, hoping that her doubts were due to her own skepticism and not any actions taken by the two. "From this moment forth, you shall be treated as distinguished guests of the holy city and the Chrysos heirs."

'Nice to be welcomed from the start,' you thought to yourself.

There is something odd about her beautiful eyes, seeming unfocused. They look like they were looking through you rather than at you. The whispers from two trailblazers behind you confirmed that they picked up on that fact too.

"Curious about my eyesight?" she asks, and you note her heightened perception. Typical of someone who is the alternate universe version of Aponia, and you make sure to tell the other two to keep your unflattering thoughts to yourself. Especially Stelle. Lord knows what's going to come out of her mouth.

She went on to explain how every Chrysos Heirs had an ability that was unique to each individual. How she doesn't rely on traditional sight to perceive the world around you. Perhaps it wasn't the exact same manipulation that Aponia was able to achieve, but it did make you feel wary of someone who can 'hear' conversation from across the city.

There was something else about her eyes that you noticed. They were seemingly dead, with no emotion in them. But they still looked at you with a sad longing— it made you feel sick to your stomach. Can these people stop looking at you with pity? Do they not know of the disaster that you would bring to them?

You tried to ignore the gaze Phainon was giving you, his icy eyes giving off heat that could only rival the sun.

"A manifestation of Nikador…" Phainon spoke up with disdain in his voice. You were so close to ripping his vocal cords out just to end your suffering. How dare he steal your lover's voice and force you to listen to it. An indignant and petty part of you hoped that he was suffering as much as you were. You had a feeling that he was. "Could it be that my trial has not arrived yet?" he asked, more to himself than to anyone else.

"By following the threads of fate, you have begun to write the opening chapter of your story. How do you feel?" Aglaea countered his question with her own.

"Truth be told, I don't feel any different," he answered. "I anticipated a greater challenge." You roll your eyes, of course, he would say that. Were all versions of Kevin so willing to take on the greatest challenge on their own?

You tune out the rest of their conversation, not really caring about the plans they had to counter the invasion.

What? The plan was a success and there were few casualties. Back in your world, this was seen as a blessing.

Besides, you need more time to process truly what the fuck is going on. You try not to, but you can't help but spare small glances towards Phainon. It aggravates you how truly and utterly similar he was to Kevin. He would always joke with you that it would always be you two in every universe, that his soul was tied to yours for eternity. Mei would pipe up with some smart and cynical comment about how technically every possibility exists under String Theory.

("Mei!" he whined, sending a glare to the poor girl. "I was trying to woo her!")

("You're such a dumbass," you said. It didn't stop you from smiling like a fool. "I'm already your partner, you don't need to woo me." You ruffle his hair and pinch his cheek. God, he was adorable— and he's yours. Just yours.)

("But I want to treat you right, starlight," he pouted, forehead resting on yours. "Want to be the man that is deserving of you." For him, you would relive every single awful and forced action the Honkai put you through for him.)

(Before you could say anything, a beach ball hit the back of your lover's head. He rubbed it and glared at the idiot who was dumb enough to ruin his moment with you.)

("You're a dead man Su!" he yelled, racing straight towards the scholar. You were scared that he was going to use his full might against the poor man. God. You love your man so fucking much.)

You scoffed, thanking the Lord that Welt wasn't on this mission. The old man would have suffered heart attack after heart attack for every new revelation.

Your amusement wasn't as quiet as you thought.

"Is something funny?" Aglaea asks, raising her eyebrow towards. Oh fuck, it would be so embarrassing if you were the one who started the trouble.

"It was nothing, my lady." You clear your throat. "My mind tends to wander." The smile Phainon gave you didn't go over your head. Even Aglaea shook her head in amusement.

"Distinguished guests, since you have spared no effort in aiding the holy city, I will naturally take care of you as well." How sweet of her— oh, like hell you're going to take her offer her at face value. But still, you could use a little R&R. "I've woven many unforeseen events into the tapestry of fate, this is but one instance." Always the wildcard, never the intended.

"Thank you for your hospitality, my lady." You bowed your head in appreciation. You glare at the other two the same way a mother would glare when her children forgot to thank someone. Thankfully you trained them well enough to pick up on your signal. You turn back to Aglaea. "Truly it was our pleasure to help out however we can."

"You can find me at Marmoreal Market after you've grown tired of listening to her tales," Phainon offers, but he hesitates to look you in your eyes. You didn't take any offence since you were struggling with the same thing. "In any case, I owe you my hospitality."

"We look forward to you treating us, Phainon." The softness in your voice wasn't intended, but it bled its way regardless of your best effort. "Just to warn you, this one will make a dent in your wealth if you treat us to food," you quip while pointing to Stelle, earning you a pinch and a pout from the baseballer.

He didn't say anything to respond, but he walked away with a wistful and painful smile on his face.

"Now then, where should we begin?" Aglaea said, and you don't miss the challenge in her voice.

After placing the Trailblaze Beacon down, Aglaea took you to the centre of Marmoreal Palace. You stand underneath the fountain listening to the spirit water tell the story of this land. Many of the details lined up with what Aris and Pallas had told you, but it filled in some of the gaps that they had left out. You hope that they have found a safe place for them to stay.

"The way up from here leads to a bath that the Council granted exclusively to the Chrysos Heirs," she explains as your group walks back to the waterfall. "I'm willing to make an exception, considering you're guests from beyond the sky…"

"But you have your traditions to maintain," you finish her thought with your arms crossed.

"Precisely," she confirms. Her eyes lingered on Stelle, clearly wanting her to go to the baths with her. But you think that she wouldn't do anything without your express permission.

"Go up with her Stelle, me and Dan Heng will wait down here for you." You didn't take your eyes off of Aglaea with a clear intention in your eyes. If anything happened to her, you would tear Amphoreus up with your own bare hands. You found yourself giving out more threats than you have in past missions. You couldn't help it, this world is designed to aggravate you to no end.

These people may have the skin of your family, but they were still unknown threats to you. Not that it mattered. You killed your friends once, and you could do it again.

(Yes, princess, the voices spoke up in your head. Return to your roots. Return to the purpose of your existence.)

"You have a considerate partner." She gestures to the elevator platform. "Follow me." You watch the two go up and away to the private baths.

Not even a second goes by when Dan Heng voices his concerns.

"Are you alright?" he hesitantly asks. "Ever since you saw Phainon, you've been more distracted, and don't think I didn't see the threat in your eyes that you've been giving everyone."

"It's complicated," you sigh. The truth was going to come out eventually. "Do you remember how me and Welt were taken aback when we met Acheron?" You turn to look at him as you wait for his answer.

"I do, Welt said that she was like someone you met on your world," he answers.

"That's right." You bite your lip trying to find the words to say your next thought. "Being on Amphoreus… It's like that but so much worse," you confessed. "The people you've met were people I deeply cared about back home." You shudder at your own vulnerability, but you trust Dan Heng more than you feel the pain when bringing back these memories. You opened your mouth to try and explain your weird relationship with Phainon, but you couldn't will your mind turn its thoughts into sound.

"I see…" You didn't expect him to know how to respond, but he ponders for a response anyway. "Do you think your past might give us some insight into this world?"

"If it does, then I know that this world was fucked before we even stepped foot here," you scoff. The dark thought of killing your alternate self on this world, just so that you could prove that this and any planet with you on it was better off dead.

Dan Heng puts a hand on your shoulder, and you smile at his awkward yet endearing attempt at comforting you. It kind of makes you wish March was here as well, her bubbly energy always giving you a sense of levity to any situation.

"I may not know your whole story, but me and Stelle will stand by you no matter what." If anyone knew what it was like to have a horrid past, it would be Dan Heng. The experience of being hated for something you never did was something you both shared, and it warms your heart that you have found people who will stand by your side no matter what. A luxury you weren't afforded often, but one you cherish all the same.

You nod your head with a smile, not trusting your voice to stop itself from breaking down into tears. It helps that Stelle was heading down to the two of you, another welcome distraction from the warring thoughts in your head.

Stelle starts to tell you what Aglaea had told her. Most of it was extra information added to the fairy tales that the children have told you. You had a feeling that this world was not aware of what lies beyond its firmament, but you didn't know it was something that was outright hidden from them. Whatever, their world, their rules. You have no intention to break them.

But one fact has surprised you, a pit falling in your stomach and your heart somehow aching more than it has been.

"This is Amphoreus' Flame-Chase journey — a band of heroes dedicated to slaying the gods and reclaiming the twelve Coreflames for the world to start over anew."

The Flame-Chasers haunt you wherever you go. Your past digging its claws into your flesh. Your eternal punishment for the sins you have committed. You wonder if this version of you has realized their destiny, the burden they must carry to the end.

"Hm, there's still a lot about this situation that we don't know." You cross your arms and look up to the private baths. "Why don't you two go and talk to some of the locals? Get a feel for the situation."

"And what will you do—" Dan Heng started to ask before Stelle cut him off.

"Oooooh, you're going to talk to Phainon! I saw the heart eyes you were giving him– Ow!" You're thankful that Dan Heng had the tact to elbow Stelle. You love her, but her mouth really had a way of getting into trouble.

"I want to check up on something." You hold both of their shoulders and plead with them. "Do not, under any circumstances, get into any trouble. I may not know Aglaea all that well, but she doesn't seem like the type to tolerate the slightest subordination." You shudder when you think of how Aponia would act when something didn't go her way.

"Don't you worry, I'll keep Dan Heng out of trouble!" Stelle yelled out before walking out of the baths. Dan Heng sighed and assured you that he would keep an eye on her, before following her.

You give yourself a second, trying to let your brain catch up with the last few hours or so. Your heart clenched and started beating erratically, panic and adrenaline flooding your system. This was getting too much for you to handle and you were one wrong encounter away from collapsing onto the floor in a catatonic state. But you couldn't give in to your fear, you have people depending on you. People who trust you to not let them down.

("Breathe, Starlight," he whispered into your ear. His cold arms kept you grounded amongst the field of corpses around you. "I got you, nothing is going to happen, I promise." He smiled and you almost believed him. But despite the heavens he tried to move and the hell he tried to raise, he was still mortal and you were his God. There was nothing he could do to change your fate.)

(Huh, there wasn't blood flowing from the corpses, but a weird orange energy. That wasn't exactly how you remembered how the battle went.)

You must have zoned out for quite a while because before you know it, you walk through the same streets you ran through to get to the battle. Despite the chaos that was occurring a couple of hours ago, everything seemed to go back to normal. The vendors went back to selling their produce, the lovers were walking through the streets with wistful smiles and the children were playing like they should.

"Ms. (Y/N)!" was the only warning you got before you almost collapsed under the two children you saved.

"I'm glad that you're ok!" you smile as you bend down to give your two kids a hug. Joy replaced the earlier panic, happy that there was something good that happened during your time here. "I trust that Lord Mydeimos took good care of you?"

Aris nodded while explaining how cool Lord Mydeimos – apparently he insists on just being called 'Mydei' – was, with his amazing strength and incredible knowledge on the battlefield. He tried, and failed, to recreate the fighting moves that Mydei used.

"He said that if I practice enough, I can be an even better warrior than him!"

"You still have quite a ways to go before you will reach Mydei's level."

Phainon's voice came out of nowhere, giving you a bit of a scare. He stood in front of the children, a smile on his face and hands on his hips. The children were happy to have another one of the Chrysos Heirs giving them attention. Phainon didn't seem to mind, laughing as the children took their turns treating him like a jungle gym.

You thought about having children, once upon a time. You'd crush those ideas before they could turn into something tangible, for fear that you would pass down your Herrscher curse to your children. Would this be what your life would be like if you weren't forced to bear the world's burden?

"Aris! Pallas! It's time for dinner!" You look up to see an old woman calling out to the children. Thank goodness the children had someone in Okhema to take care of them. You weren't ready to become an impromptu mother to two kids, especially with your grown children to take care of.

"Coming Grandma!" the kids respond, but they don't leave without almost knocking you over again with another hug. You make them promise again to stay out of trouble, and that you will always be there for them if they call out your name.

"Those kids seem to like you." Phainon took his place next to you, eyes scanning Marmoreal Palace for any trouble that he may need to help with. He didn't look at you, and you don't think you have the heart to look at him.

"Oh you know, save a child's life and they feel indebted to you for eternity," you chuckle, trying to relieve your nerves and the awkward tension in the air.

Neither of you know what to say. You could see Phainon opening and closing his mouth, trying to find the right words to say. Your own brain started to hurt with the amount of thinking you were doing, wanting to gather the answers you needed while protecting your own heart. There was only one way for this to end and that was in shared vulnerability. But you don't think you have it in you to be vulnerable in front of another man, even if he looks and sounds eerily like your dearly departed.

Luckily, Phainon was willing to bite the first bullet.

"Your ring is beautiful," he spoke up, eyes focusing on the blue gem around your neck. You instinctively hold it in your hand, finding relief in its biting cold. "The man who must have given it to you must have cared about you dearly."

"He did…" you trail off with a smile, letting yourself revel in the good memories without letting the bad ones taint what you have left of him. The cold from the gold brought you more comfort than you care to admit.

"If you don't mind me asking– and of course if you don't want to answer I completely understand–" Phainon goes on a tangent about not wanting to make you uncomfortable but that he was really curious. About what, he hasn't even told you yet. You put a hand on his shoulder, slowly and with hesitation, giving him enough time to pull away if he pleases to do so.

"It's alright, Phainon, just ask me what you wish to know," you reassure him with a smile.

"Were you married to someone back home?" His hands started fidgeting with his own ring finger like he was missing something there. (It just so happens that the ring you hold was an exact match for the one he was going to give his partner.)

It's the question many people ask you when they see the ring. Who's the lucky guy who captured your heart, many would ask. You'd always counter that you were the lucky one for having Kevin choose you. He was and forever will be the greatest thing that has happened to you, and you will carry that with you wherever you go. You may not have had the wedding of your dreams, but you were his. In sickness and health, till death do you part and a little bit beyond that. You don't need a legally signed paper to tell you what your soul already knows.

("Things are getting out of hand out there," he said as he knelt down to one knee. "I may not be able to give you everything that you deserve, but let me give you this one thing." He pulled the ring out of his pocket and your eyes started to blur with tears. "My heart, my love and my soul will forever belong to you. No matter where life takes you, I want you to remember that I will always be with you as long as you wear this ring." Ice started to form on his cheeks.)

("So, Starlight, my sun on a cold winter day, will you do the honours of marrying me? In this life or the next?)

(You never answered a question more quickly in your life.)

"That's hard to explain." How else can you explain that not even the day after, your closest friend and confidant revealed that she was also a Herrscher and that she sacrificed herself for future generations. How you lost your mind and became a force of destruction, ending all life in sight. That it took the combined power of all the living Flame-Chasers just to seal you away. That you spent the last fifty thousand years in exile only to be released with the death of your lover.

Phainon has a bright heart, and it reminded you of Kevin's before the responsibilities as the Deliverance took its full toll on him. Who were you to reveal him to the true horrors of his fate before he was ready? So you tell him a sanitized version until he is ready to hear your whole story. Until you're able to recount your life as objectively as possible, without driving yourself mad with what-ifs.

"We didn't know how much time we had left, so he proposed to me with hopes that we'll get married once the threat to our world was over." A bitter side of you wished to demand more time, and you've come to just appreciate the time that you had. You continue with your story, "he was right. The day after the proposal, our entire world fell apart." You don't add the fact that you were to blame for its destruction.

If the Amphoreus version of you will play the same role that you did, then you wish to preserve their image in Phainon's mind for a little bit longer.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to bring up such awful memories." Phainon was so chivalrous, it made you want to shake him by the shoulders and tell him that it's okay if he doesn't appear heroic for two seconds. He better learn this lesson before he burns himself out.

"The thing is that in between the awful memories – and trust me, there were some shit times – there are memories that I will cherish until I die." Your first birthday party after the eruption you caused, the night Kevin confessed his feelings for you, the brief hope you had when you thought your powers were under your control. These are the memories that shine through the despair you felt. And now with the Astral Express, you can create new memories that will drown out the darkness that you carry.

"You learn how to continue to live despite everything," you smile softly as you turn to look at him. Phainon's eyes were wide and hanging off of every word that you were saying. Maybe to him, the words you were saying were the Gospel he would hold close to his heart, letting them imprint themselves onto his soul. Or maybe, he was blurring the lines between you and someone else.

"Even when it hurts?" His voice stuttered, more broken than what you expected. His heart had already gone through unimaginable pain, you fear. Your instincts kicked in, wanting to shield him away from the world that had nothing but cruel plans for him.

You couldn't protect your Kevin, but you could at the very least protect Phainon.

(It's too late, for his fate was sealed thirty-three million, five hundred and fifty thousand, three hundred and thirty-six cycles ago. But with you here now, perhaps you can create enough disruption to end his suffering. You of all people should know what it's like to be locked away. You would do anything to prevent another from suffering the same fate.)

"You have people that rely on you, Phainon," you remind him. "For people like– for you, there is no break from your fate, as unfair as that sounds."

His shoulders slump and his lips start to pout. Clearly, this wasn't the answer that he wanted to hear, but you wouldn't want to lull him in a false sense of security.

You continue to look at him, trying to see past the ghosts that haunt you. For all the similarities Phainon and Kevin share, there were some differences. Kevin carried himself with calculated confidence, always trying to seem like he was in control. He'd only confide with you in private that most of it was a ruse to psych himself into believing in the future. As time went on, he became even more of a recluse, and the rare smile he'd share on some occasions was all but gone.

Phainon on the other hand wore his heart on his sleeve. He smiled freely, he cared fiercely and he wasn't afraid to hide any of his emotions. You wish to keep him like this, happy that at least in one world, you were able to see your lover before disaster.

You only met Kevin after he'd joined the Fire MOTH, and you didn't get to really know him until years after your deployment. You never got to meet the carefree version of him from Su or Mei's stories.

"There was a boy and a girl that I knew, once upon a time." Your voice had piqued his attention and all traces of that sad, puppy expression had disappeared. You continue on with your story.

"The girl's fate was sealed from the moment she was born. A terrible darkness was sealed inside of her, and it was only a matter of time before it would take over her being." You take a deep breath before you continue. "We call these beings 'Herrschers'." How could a word mean nothing to one person, but chill you to your bones?

"But despite what her destiny had decreed, she did everything in her power to fight against the darkness. It was almost futile, but she held such a deep love for humanity that it fueled her desire to win." Would the bright-eyed rookie all those years ago be proud of who you are? Of all the damage you caused and tried to fix and undo?

"The boy on the other hand had all the choice in the world." You almost lose yourself in another memory, catching yourself before you do. "He could have lived his life in relative peace, but he chose to fight."

"Because he too had a deep love for humanity?" Phainon asked.

"You're not wrong, but not exactly. He gained a new reason when he fell in love with the girl." You look towards the Dawn Machine, the closest thing this planet has to a sun. "He promised to keep her safe from fate, to defy anything that stood in his way."

Before he stood on his knee to ask for your hand in marriage, he stood before you, vowing to keep you away from anything that would bring you harm, including yourself.

("Even when the Honkai makes you unrecognizable, I will always fight to find the woman I love within." A knight swearing to his princess, an oath written in blood and stardust. There was no one that would come in between him and you, the beautiful end. You make a silent oath to yourself to never let him have to choose between you or the world.)

"In the end, they both failed to achieve their goals. The darkness that she so desperately tried to conceal did exactly what she was afraid of." The distant screams and prayers have become white noise to you. "And the boy couldn't save her from her fate, and so he had to kill her. And her revival only could happen after the boy killed himself. " You were glad that your last sight was of Kevin's face. You only wish his eyes weren't blurred by his tears. You only wish that you were there to provide him the same comfort.

Phainon took a sharp breath, not expecting the story to end so bleakly. The light in his eyes started to dim and his hands were shaky at his side. If he thought you were going to give him hope that everything would be okay, then he was speaking to the wrong person.

His voice is solemn, unlike the cheerful tone he had thus far.

"Are all of our fates destined to be that bleak?" he asks with a woeful tone. You could tell he didn't want to accept such a notion, but sometimes there is simply nothing you could do except to welcome the inevitable.

That was not the lesson you wanted Phainon to leave with.

"Maybe yes, maybe no," you muse with a smile. From the corner of your eyes, Phainon tilts his head at your light tone. You continue on with the moral of your story. "If you ask the girl, she'd probably tell you that she doesn't regret a thing."

"What do you mean?" Phainon is skeptical but doesn't shut you down.

"She met the love of her life, had a great group of friends that she called family, and even if it was for a brief amount of time, she was able to help protect her home. Sure, she wishes things ended differently, but she's come to learn that that's how life goes sometimes." You didn't know when you became so optimistic, but it was leagues better than being miserable all the time.

You miss him. Desperately so with an ache in your soul. Sometimes you stay up in the middle of the night, feeling the faint connection between your heart and his. But you have since grown without him, and slowly, you were filling the void with new friends and new loves. Himeko's awful coffee. Welt's science jokes that no one gets but him. The trio and all the chaos that they get into.

You wish Kevin could see you now. He'd be crying to see the woman who's so haunted by her past being able to let go and find peace. It's a long process, and a very slow one, but the best time to start is today.

Just as Phainon brings you hope that there could be a version of your story that has a happy ending, you hope that your story shows him that there is life beyond tragedy. That even the darkest times cannot stay forever. He just needs to persevere through all of it, and you know he will.

When you arrived on Amphoreus and learned of its peculiarity, you were scared that all the little healing that you had done was for nothing.

Now? It was just a sign of how far you have come. That you weren't sobbing at the sight and sound of Phainon. Truthfully, you think that you have gained a new friend and you are thankful for that.

"That was… a beautiful story," he sniffles as wipes his tears. You didn't mean to make the poor man cry, but at least he was comfortable sharing his emotions with you.

You thank him and continue to gaze beyond the horizon, a sense of peace that you haven't felt in millennia overcoming you. The awkward energy gave away to two people basking in the painful reminders of what it means to be human. A human who feels too much and a monster who doesn't feel at all, or at least that is what you tell yourself. You were coming to terms that maybe you aren't the monster everyone thought you were.

"When I first saw you, I couldn't help but compare you to my partner," he confesses with shame. "I was so… furious that you were just standing there while they were gone." His fists clenched, not with anger but with determination. "But now I understand that you too have lost your lover, and that our pain is shared."

"However, I am sorry, I refuse to share our destiny." He stood with a fire in his eyes. "I will not lose Amphoreus or my partner to the Black Tide or any other threat that comes in the future."

Echoes of the past whispered in your ear. "Humanity will never lose hope for as long as they call me their hero, their Deliverer."

"Good," you snark, and a little bit of your old self starts to bleed through. "I expect nothing less, Deliverer."

He smiles and pounds his fist against his heart, another oath made to you. Hopefully, this one will be kept.

"I, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, swear to you that I will see the Flame-Chase to the end, and that I will grant Amphoreus the happy ending we all deserve," he said with conviction, the same that you have heard from over the years. The desire to save your home isn't exclusive to one dying world, and you can extend your desire to other people.

"Then Phainon of Aedes of Elysiae," you start as you place a fist against your own heart, "I, (Y/N) of the Trailblaze swear that I will help however I can save Amphoreus from the Black Tide, and bring you to the Era Nova." You will not let another dying world fall.

In his excitement, Phainon lunges towards you and gives you a hug. His arms wrapped your back and lifted you up in the air. Your surprised shriek let him know that while this hug wasn't unwelcome, a warning would have done you good.

With renewed vigour, you and Phainon continue to walk through Marmoreal Market, with him pointing out all the stalls and the stories behind each of them. You laugh at his dramatic recreation, completely enchanted by the way he carries himself. In another life, he would have made for a fine historian.

It wasn't until you passed a funeral home that Phainon spoke up to ask you another question.

"Have you ever thought about death?" he asks with such innocent curiosity that it almost distracts you from the morbid question.

"Do you think I'm going to die soon?" you counter with a question of your own, happy with the panic you caused him. He stopped and turned around like a deer in headlights, and he let out another ramble to excuse himself.

"No! That is definitely not what I meant," he trembled in place, his hands waving around in surrender. "It's just that I've always thought about it – you know being a warrior, you never know when your time will come – and it's something I ask everyone. Though I understand if that seems odd, especially to an outsider. Please forgive me!" How he said that in one breath was a miracle. You need to calm him down before he bows– oh, there he goes. Bobbing his head up and down like he will be able to repent his sins.

"I haven't given it a lot of thought to be honest." Your voice snaps him out of repentance and gives you his utmost attention. "All I know is that I wish to be buried in a wedding dress," you smile. "He better have planned the biggest party for me."

"If I were to die alongside you, I expect an invitation as well." That much was obvious, but you hope he survives longer than you do if only to enjoy the happy ending he rightfully deserves. You also don't want to face the wrath of Amphoreus you for taking their man away from them so soon.

You were not his. He is not yours. The eerie similarities don't make up for the history that you share with your respective lovers. But in the shared details of your story, you find comfort that there are people like you, who face trials and tribulations beyond human comprehension. But at the same time, different enough to avoid the same doom you had to go through.

This is supposed to be a romantic story after all.

Just when you thought that all could end well, Lady Triannon comes running towards you, crying out to yourself and Phainon.

"Snowy! Come quick! Aglaea is going to execute Grayie and Dan Heng!" You don't respond, just running after her to save your idiots from their own poor decision-making.

You didn't think your life would come to this, but like you said earlier, you wouldn't change it for a damn thing.

–

(Beyond Calamity's Gate, there is an emanator waiting for their lover to fulfill the prophecy to set them free. They could only hope that he would be able to stop them from destroying the land they have come to love, and become the hero he was meant to be.)

(In another universe, there stood a man on the moon who barely escaped Death's hands. A girl with your eyes told him that you were okay, just exploring beyond the stars. He thinks that you deserved it after the sacrifices you made, but that didn't stop his longing to be with you again. He will find you, just like he promised all those years ago.)

given that all of this was written before 3.4, forgive me for the hopefulish ending ;-; mayhaps i'll write this from phainon's pov one day hehehe

may phainon wanters be phainon havers in the year of our lord 2025!!!

#phainon hsr #phainon x reader #phainon x you #honkai star rail #kevin kaslana #kevin kaslana x reader #kevin kaslana x you #honkai impact 3rd #tricking everyone to love kevin hehehe #zo's sports (trauma) thoughts #this is zo speaking

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luvlybunnie · 2 days ago

Note

CALEB LADS INCEST IR STEPCEST PLEASE PLEASE BRO

a / n : we are on the same mind wave i think. (THIS IS INCESSTT GUYSS RUN AWAAAYYYY!!!!) up to interpretation if its step or bio ! :3c

he doesn't know why you're like this.

he's at a loss for words really, his fingertips shaking. body aches as he stares at your phone, the screen lighting up over and over again— men, no, boys. multiple boys are texting his sister at once.

'link up???'

his brain is foggy, and his head hurts. when you come back to the couch, he watches as you grab your phone and type like nothing ever happened.

"do you have any plans today?" he asks, he knows what you'll say. every time he asks you say the sams thing.

"nope!"

still the same girl from when gran raised you both.

"good. i was thinking, maybe we could spend time together?"

you peak at him from your phone, and he sees your thumb click on the right of the screen— it alerts him in an awful way. to know that you sent that boy—

something back.

the day starts slow, and you do notice something is off with your older brother. the way his jaw tightens when he thinks you look away, or the way you see his smiles immediately fall into deep frowns.

it's night now. all the food already gone, movies already over, and the messes already cleaned.

"it's your bed time now."

"i'm not a kid, caleb."

"mm, i know. don't remind me."

you huff and cross your arms— it reminds him of when you would throw tantrums, although it's a bit different when he sees your breasts push together.

"what's your deal?"

"my deal?"

you glare daggers at his face, "yes, your deal. you've been acting weird all day. i don't know what your problem is but it's pissing me off."

"don't swear."

"i'm grown, caleb." you hiss, "i have been for a while."

you see your brother sigh heavily, his head leaning back against the couch as his fingertips tap at his thigh.

"i'm just wondering what i'm here for— why are you living with me? i don't get it."

you stare at him as he finally opens up, it's been at least seven hours since you noticed something was off.

"you're a beautiful woman. you don't need to rely on— your brother for a house, or food— or anything like that. so why do you do it? when you have other guys?"

your eyes squint for a second, the gears in your head shifting— "huh?"

he turns his head to look at you, his eyes dead serious.

"caleb, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"you have other guys right? you text them every day. why do you need me?"

"you're not my boyfriend, you're my brother."

he frowns.

"does that make you upset? that you're my brother instead of my boyfriend?"

he sighs loudly, and stands up, attempting to have a smile on his face, "you're being ridiculous. let's get you to bed."

"you wanna do what a boyfriend does for me?"

he grits his jaw, "that's enough."

you grin, leaning toward him, your eyes widening with delight as he stands in front of you— his hand reaching out to help you off the couch.

"you're weird." you begin, "my brother is a big weirdo who wants to be his sister's boyfriend. right?"

he can't find the words to speak.

"oohh, so it's true. what does gege wanna do to me, huuh?" you drag out every syllable, letting it sink into his head. letting the steam build up until the pot starts whistling.

"what if i said..."

"you shouldn't be saying anything." he manages out, he hopes you don't notice the tremble in his voice.

you giggle.

"gege. why don't you... touch me the way a boyfriend would touch me?"

"why— why are you like this?" he hisses out, retracting his hand and running it through his hair.

"gege—" you whine, "c'mere, let your little sister be the best girlfriend ever."

"no." he wants to say yes.

"gege, come onnnn. do you think i'm sleeping around or something?"

he stays silent for too long and you giggle again.

"look," you reach onto the table to grab your phone, opening it and showing him the messages— he warily takes your phone and looks through.

'hangin wit my brother today'

'busy w gege'

'brother needs me bye'

'movie night w brother'

excuses? or maybe truths?

'it's like your fucking your brother lol'

he hands the phone back with a soft, "i see."

you read the last message he was on and grin again, "you're so weird." you hum.

you adjust your position so you're on the edge of the couch on your knees, looking up at caleb through your lashes. he's tense.

you drag your hands up his thighs, ignoring the very obvious bulge in his sweatpants— "sooo, you haven't admitted it yet."

he exhales heavily through his nose, "i already feel like your boyfriend. providing for you and such. i cook your food— i work for you."

you hum, fingertips lingering on the waist of his pants. "you seem like such a good boyfriend— my brother is a good boyfriend."

"stop calling me brother."

you scoff, "that's what you are though!"

he places his hand against your hair, tugging it gently to the side— your body immediately following suite.

"don't. call me that. despite what you believe, i could easily remind you what boyfriends do instead of what brother's do."

you place your fingers against your mouth, mimicking a blowjob motion as your mouth opens— you giggle, "i'd do that whether your my brother or boyfriend."

he stares.

for a moment you think you've gone too far.

"are you a virgin?"

you prolong your answer to stress him out more.

"answer me."

"yes." truthful.

"good, i'll make sure it's your brother's dick splitting you open before anyone gets a chance."

a / n : IT GOT SO LONG IM SORRY BYE IM STRESSED. HE TURNS ME ON LIKE CRAZY I NEED TO DIE.

#cw incest #cw stepcest #caleb smut #love and deepspace smut #lads smut #lads caleb smut #thats enuff tags bye #cw.incest #incest cw

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notarmedandnotdangerous · 3 days ago

Note

I was wondering if we could maybe pretty please have part 4 of the camboy reader series where Bucky gets his revenge on the reader 🥺 if not that’s totally fine I just wanna see reader get humbled lmao

part 5 now hehe. i hope you enjoyyy :) its like 2am for me rn so gn people 😋 this is nasty.

i dont really have a lot of time to write anymore cuz its my final year and classes end really late for me everyday 💔 i am trying my best!

+18 mdni! faceless desire; a fic where bucky finds out about reader's little secret

cw: sub!m!camboy!reader, dom!bucky, bondage (silk ties), use of toys (multiple types of dildos), silly chatroom, dumbification, degradation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, voyeurism (cuz theyre on stream)

word count: >4.3k

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

!! @swiftie-fault

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

the stream opens in dim, golden light.

the frame is artfully angled, cropped just below your jaw. all the viewers could see as bare skin, and your folded body. your cock twitched against your stomach, while your hole was stuffed full with a black plug that’s been sitting in you for almost an hour.

you were on your back, legs bent high, knees drawn to your chest, and held in place. silk ropes wrap around your thighs, and under the backs of your knees, looping snugly behind to keep you open, and completely accessible. the bindings dug slightly into your skin, but not harshly.

the camera caught the subtle tremble of your thighs, and the way your breathing was shallow.

user1:

‘knees up??? tied already?? what are we up for today???’

user2:

‘i should NOT be feeling this feral right now.’

you shifted slightly, just enough to show the silk looped around your wrists. they were tied to the sides of the bed, pulled outwards, and away from your face just to keep you perfectly framed for the camera.

user3:

‘oh god he tied his wrists too.’

user4:

‘bondage or presentation???’

you whispered to the mic, voice uneven.

“he tied my arms next, said i was squirming too much. he wanted me to stay open for him.”

from off-camera, bucky hums low.

“you keep trying to move, but i already tied you perfect.” he spoke, dragging one hand up your stomach gently. “plugged yourself up so well, didn’t even try to cheat, did you?”

“no.”

“good boy.” his fingers curled around the base of the plug, and began to pull.

it was slow. the way it dragged out of you made your back arch despite the bindings. your wrists tug at the silk, and the mic picks up the slick sound of it leaving your body.

“god.” bucky breathes, rubbing his thumb gently over your stretched hole. “you’re so open, just from waiting. look at that.”

user5:

‘the whimper when it came out..’

user6:

‘he’s definitely not walking tomorrow.’

you’re moaning quietly now, hips twitching slightly, but the ropes held you firm. your arms were useless, tied away, and you can’t even close your legs.

the camera shifts slightly as bucky reaches off-frame, then he returns, holding something smooth.

it was a dildo, long, thick, and threatening.

“i want to see how much you need it first, that okay?”

you whimper, you can’t help it. you tugged at the binds, shifted your hips, but you’re tied too tightly to go anywhere. your thighs are shaking in their loops, while your hole flutters visibly on camera.

bucky runs the tip of the dildo along your rim, teasing you with it. he hadn’t pushed it in yet, just let you feel it.

user7:

‘he’s making him work for it. this is so sick. i love you bandage guy.’

user8:

‘the gape. fuck.’

he presses the dildo in just enough to catch.

you gasp when the tip pushed in a little, then stops. the binds held you firm, there’s nowhere for you to run to, nothing for you to push back against.

“can’t even fuck yourself on it, can you?” he murmurs.

“..no.” you breathed. “i can’t- can’t move.”

“that’s the point.”

you sigh when he pushes in deeper, slowly. the stretch was fucking maddening. you hissed, bound hands curling into fists.

“you’re taking me so well, knew you would.” he leans in, hand sliding up your thigh to tug on the knot behind your knee. “you’re not going to ask me for it?”

“no.”

bucky chuckles under his breath, and the dildo slips forward just slightly.

“why not?”

“i can take it.” you breathe. ”you’ll use me when you’re ready.”

he stills, just for a second. then he exhales, like he’s proud of you, like you’ve said exactly what he wanted to hear.

“fuck, you’re so good.”

you shiver, and finally, he presses the dildo in. not all the way, just enough for it to seat inside you with a slow stretch.

user9:

‘so fucking patient’

user10:

‘bandage guy’s going to fucking LOSE IT when he finally fucks charmeur.’

bucky pushes in another inch, then drags it out again, slowly. he’s making you work for it. he fucks the dildo in shallow strokes, just enough to make your cock drool against your stomach.

“still not begging.”

“don’t need to.” you winked.

the chat fucking implodes.

user11:

‘IM GONNA DIE ACTUALLY’

user12:

‘HOW ARE YOU STILL CALM..’

“you’re going to take everything without asking once, aren’t you?”

“yes, sir.”

—

the dildo slides in again, slow, and deep, pressing flush against your prostate with precision. the silk binds dug into your skin as your thighs trembled.

it’s been an hour.

a whole fucking hour of slow, precise fucking. just the dildo, no fingers, no cock, no jerking you off, just that same, steady pressure, over, and over again.

the tip of the toy curves up perfectly, grazing your prostate each time bucky sinks it in to the hilt. he’s so fucking consistent with it, like he knows your endurance, like he had trained it himself.

you haven’t begged once.

user13:

‘an hour. HE’S BEEN FUCKING THAT SPOT FOR AN HOUR.’

user14:

‘how is he even breathing..’

“you’re doing so well, baby.” he murmurs. “just let me use you like a toy.”

you moan, quietly, the kind that slips out on accident. your chest is heaving now, muscles twitching. every slow thrust of the dildo draws a fresh ripple through your thighs. the binds were biting into your skin, not painfully, but grounding, to remind you that you weren’t going anywhere.

bucky’s on his knees, one hand steady on the base of the dildo, the other braced on your inner thigh. he’s quiet as he angles the toy just slightly down, and presses in again.

your vision goes fucking white at the edges, and your back arches in the binds. your thighs shake uncontrollably, while a sound tears from your throat.

that’s when it hit you.

you’re fucked.

there was no way you could outlast this.

there was no way you could think past this.

no fucking way.

you’ve handled denial, hell, you’ve taken worse. you’ve endured harsher punishments, but something about this calm, slow, methodical fucking of your prostate for a full hour with no climax? it’s turned your mind to mush.

and bucky notices it, of course he would.

“oh, there it is.” he hums. “feels better here, doesn’t it?”

you whimper softly, lips parted, sweat beading along your collarbones. your cock was still untouched, and throbbing.

user15:

‘he’s not even speaking anymore’

user16:

‘WHO DOES THAT..’

“you were holding it together so well.” he murmurs, dragging the dildo out halfway, before pressing it back in with a slow grind to that exact spot.

your legs jolt, and the binds dig in harder now.

“still not begging? but you’re going to start crying soon, aren’t you?”

you nodded. it wasn’t because you were breaking, fuck no. it was because you can’t hold your body still anymore, because every press to your prostate now feels more intense, and makes you see stars.

bucky continues, doing it again, and again.

you can’t breathe. your thighs trembled violently in their loops now, and your toes curl. your cock twitches against your stomach with every thrust, leaking a growing mess across your skin. and your voice? it’s nothing but gasps, and moans now.

“you’re still not asking me to stop. still not asking to cum.”

“mmh- no..” you shook your head, and it took more effort than usual.

“good.” he fucks the toy into that spot again.

you scream. a high, helpless sound you bite back halfway through. you can’t stop shaking now, your thighs jolt with every press, but you don’t beg, you took it, and endured it, even as your head spins, even as your throat cracks with every moan.

“you’ve been trained so fucking well.” he says, pressing in deep again, and grinding the toy right there. “you’re shaking so hard, and you’re still not asking.”

you try to nod, but your head just lolls back against the mattress.

bucky’s pace never changes, it was slow, deep, and perfect, in that same angle, driving straight into your prostate, like he had rewired your body to respond to this.

he knows what’s coming.

you feel it in your spine.

your hands curl into fists against the silk restraints, wrists flexing hard to try, and anchor yourself, but there was nothing that could ground you now.

your body was a fucking livewire.

“still not going to beg?” he murmurs, breath hot against your cheek, and his hand presses the toy in just a little deeper.

you sob out a choked moan.

“n-no, fuck- mmh, don’t n-need-”

then bucky thrusts the toy in again, hard, deep, and head-on.

something inside you fucking shatters. your back arches violently against the mattress. your whole body snapped taut as your orgasm rips through you. your cock jerks, and starts spilling all over yourself.

you’re gasping, shaking so fucking hard the bed creaks. your thighs spasm uncontrollably, the silk binds against the pull of your muscles. your moans break down into wet, helpless sounds.

it feels like your brain blanks for a second, like static.

user17:

‘CUMMING UNTOUCHED ARE YOU KIDDING’

user18:

‘this is the hardest he’s ever came, trust’

bucky doesn’t stop though, just fucked the toy through every jerk of your body, until your voice breaks, and your body goes limp.

“didn’t even need to ask for it. just took what i gave you.”

you nodded, completely dazed. your chest rose, and fell in ragged gasps, thighs twitching where they’re tied tight to your chest.

then he starts to move the toy again, and your eyes widen just slightly.

“we’re not done.” he smiles.

—

you know this rhythm, you had been taking it for an hour.

you thought you could take it, until bucky shifted his grip.

his hands braced firm, one on the back of your thigh, the other curling around the base of the dildo. then without warning, he slams it in, hard, fast, and directly into your prostate.

your scream hits the mic before your brain even catches up.

user19:

‘THE PACE??’

user20:

‘no more warm-up i guess.’

your entire body jolts, a full-body convulsion. the binds held you in place, but you could feel how hard your body was trying to escape.

bucky fucks the dildo in, and out with ruthless rhythm, shallow, fast, and perfectly angled, slamming into your prostate like he’s trying to bruise it.

“been so patient for me, took it so slow, let me train you all soft-” another thrust. harder.

“n-nnh- ah-!?”

“but you weren’t ready for this, huh? this is how it feels to not be in control of the pace.”

“don’t- b-baby.. don’t h-hit-”

“why? going to cum?”

you whimper, and try to deny it.

“you’re going to cum just from this”

your hands balled into fists in the silk binds, and you can’t even breathe right. your cock pulses violently where it lays across your belly, and then you cum. it was so hard, so sudden, and it knocked the air right out of your lungs.

there was no warning, just one perfect thrust that hammers your prostate, and you’re gone. everything is spinning, you can’t breathe, can’t think. you’re gasping, and hiccuping through it, blinking through the burn in your eyes.

bucky doesn’t slow down though. he’s still fucking the toy in, letting you ride it out, letting the aftershocks wreck you.

“i- don’t- f-fuck.. i didn’t even- mmh.” you pant, voice cracking. “didn’t know i- i could fucking do that-” you groaned, and tried to hide your face, but you were obviously unsuccessful.

“oh you’re embarrassed. that’s fucking adorable.”

you were still dripping, still shaking in the binds. your torso was streaked with your own cum. the dildo that forced it out of you, slides from your hole with a wet, messy pop.

“you thought we were done?”

“..no.”

“never had this one huh? a viewer sent this here.” he murmurs. “thought maybe you’d want to feel something a little deeper.” he picked a textured dildo. wide ridges spaced along the shaft, each one dragging over your rim as he pushes it in.

user21:

‘no breaks????’

user22:

‘ITS RIBBED. NO.’

you try to shake your head, try to say ‘wait.’ but it comes out as a soft pitiful moan.

and bucky grins.

he lines it up to your hole, and presses it in just enough to make your back arch.

you sob when the first ridge glides past your rim, then the second, then the third. every bump of that toy drags against your insides, pulls against your overstimulated nerves, catches just enough to make your stomach twitch.

“fuck!- oh god, baby– what- what is that? what the fuck? i- you’re not even hitting- uuh..”

“oh i know. i’m not trying to hit it.”

bucky doesn’t stop, just kept pushing, every ridge massaging you from the inside. he kept one hand on your lower stomach, pressing gently to hold you still.

“shh, i want you to feel every inch. let it stretch you, let it fucking kiss your spot, yeah?”

“no- fuck, i can’t- mmh.. i’m going to- baby! please- too.. too much.. you’re not- not even touching me-”

user23:

‘that’s.. torture..’

he doesn’t curl. he just slides it in, pulls it out, and slides it back in again.

“still with me?”

“y-yes,” you gasped. “just- different- it’s different- i can feel- e-everything, fuck. i-it’s too much- not even- baby, please, just- just hit it-”

bucky shook his head, and you swear you almost cried from that alone.

“nope. you’ve had too much, came all over yourself like a fucking teenager. you don’t deserve that right now.”

you were just about to whine, when he pushes another inch in.

“you’re going to cum just from this. i know you will.”

at this point it wasn’t the multiple orgasms that kill you. it was the way the texture stimulates everything around your prostate, the way you clench down every time a ridge catches just right, the way he watches you.

then he starts fucking you with it. short, sharp strokes that rub every spot in you.

you can’t stop twitching, your thighs quivered like you were freezing.

bucky leaned over, and gently brushed the hair off your sweaty forehead.

“you’ve been such a mess for me, all that, and i didn’t even touch your spot once.”

you blink up at him, dazed, and drooling a little.

“please- baby. i.. just- just a little.. can’t.. n-need it so- fuck, so bad..”

he smiles, kisses your cheek, and then finally presses it in just right.

you screamed, loud, and helpless. your entire body convulses, back arching like you’ve been shocked, and your cock jerks violently.

“fuck fuck fuck- baby.. what the fuck?.. oh my god- please- d-don’t stop..”

just when you started to adjust, he pulled the toy out, slow, and gentle.

user23:

‘THATS ALL HE GETS??’

user24:

‘i’ll cry actually’

your hole, gaping now, clenches around nothing.

“why- why’d you stop.. i-i needed.. was about to cum..”

the next toy was thinner, smooth, and vibrating.

“let’s see how you do with this one.”

you barely register the change, before he’s pressing it in.

“n-no.. i can’t- please, it- you don’t understand..”

the moment it slips inside, your thighs jolt. you gasp sharp, and high in your throat, as the buzzing tip lands directly against your prostate.

“there it is, right where it fucking belongs.”

it wasn’t even the stretch, or the depth. it’s the vibration, buzzing against your prostate, and seeping into your spine. it’s gentle, but that’s what makes it so much worse.

“f-fuck, i can’t.. too- too much..”

“i know, that’s why i’m doing it.”

user25:

‘THAT’S A VIBRATOR??’

user26:

‘who the FUCK sent them this toy.’

the toy buzzes deep inside you, pressing rhythmically against your prostate. every muscle in your body was seizing in small, helpless spasms. your hips twitch, but you can’t jerk away. the binds were too tight, holding you in place.

“i f-fuck, baby. please- you’re not- even doing anything.. uugh.. that’s.. not fair..”

bucky stills, then laughs, like he can’t believe you’re just now realising.

“oh baby, you really thought this was just for fun?”

you blink up at him, and he brushes his fingers down your chest.

“this is revenge.”

“..what?”

“for last stream, that fucking toy. made me cry?” he presses the toy slightly deeper, just for emphasis. “you know i have to get you back somehow.”

you don’t cum, but your cock was leaking like it wanted to.

“you’re not going to cum. not yet.“ he murmurs. “this is just so you feel, so you remember.”

you sob again, a soft little hiccup escaping your throat.

“baby- no, please- m-move it.. i’m going to lose it-”

and bucky presses it a little harder.

“you don’t need to cum, you just need to be wrecked.”

and it kept going. minutes of that buzzing pressure on your prostate. your voice was slurred now.

user27:

‘4 minutes and counting.. any day now..’

“can’t.. i don’t- don’t know what to do.. please-”

but you’re not in charge, and he’s just watching you fall apart.

“you look so pretty like this, all this noise from one little toy.” he sighs. “makes me wonder what else you’re hiding.”

the vibrator’s been pulsing inside you for a solid 15 minutes, buzzing against your prostate, not even moving.

you were still aching, still twitching, but your breathing has finally evened out. you’re glassy-eyed, and panting, but the vibrations became background noise, just a soft hum in your bones.

and that’s when bucky leans down, strokes your thighs gently.

“you’re getting used to it, huh?”

you blink up, and he pulls it out before you even answer.

user28:

‘THE BETRAYAL’

user29:

‘why is pulling it out somehow worse.’

bucky grabs the next toy without warning. it was thinner, longer, the type that thrusts on its own. he turns it on before you could even protest.

then it starts moving, gentle thrusts, back, and forth. the second it starts gliding over your prostate with motion, and not pressure, your body jerks.

“w-wait- that’s- t-that’s new, n-not the same- i-i can’t-”

“shh, we’re going to teach your body everything.”

“please- please, it’s, it’s too fast i just- why did you change it, i was- i could take the other.. mmh.. i was good, i- nnngh.. it’s touching me d- can’t think..”

user30:

‘i was good??? kill me’

user31:

‘the exact moment his brain gives up’

user32:

‘bandage guy’s going down the menu at this point’

just when your breathing starts to settle again, bucky pulls it out, and replaces it with a girthier one. it was thick, firm, barely curved, meant to stretch, not stimulate. it presses in slow, spreading your used hole wide.

“no- no, no. why’s- that’s so big- can’t- why the fuck- mmh, it's so thick-?”

all he does is coo.

by the time he was about to switch to the fourth toy, you’re gone. you don’t even feel it leave your hole this time.

whatever he was using, he slides it out in one slow drag, and all you can do it twitch. your chest heaves, and you’re soaked in sweat.

“still holding yourself open.” he’s pleased with the state you’re in.

you’d snap at him, and call him a pervert if you could.

bucky drags two fingers down to your rim, and watched as you fluttered around nothing.

“even now. that’s good, so good.”

your body jolts when his fingertips press inside, just the pads, just enough to feel how sensitive you are. but you don’t pull away, you can’t.

“going to keep you right here for a while, just like this.”

the next toy slips in with practiced ease. it was a vibrator as well, but this one vibrates fully, instead of just at the tip. the second it seats against your sweet spot, you whimper. the vibrations weren’t even consistent, fuck, they pulsed in uneven bursts.

it’s too much, but not in a way that makes you want to run, it just breaks you more.

your lips part, and you drool unthinkingly. a fat string of saliva dripped from the corner of your mouth, and pools on the pillow beneath your head.

“can’t even talk now?”

you blink up at him, or maybe through him, you don’t even know anymore.

your body jerks again when he pulls the toy out, and you almost sob at the loss.

but then bucky presses in something new. it was ribbed as well, but with firmer, more insistent ridges as compared to the one earlier. every ridge catches against your sore rim as he slowly works it inside.

then once it’s seated fully inside you, he fucks it fast.

sharp, shallow thrusts that make your body jolt like you’re being electrocuted. you can’t even cry out, just breathy, high-pitched whines spilling from your throat.

your cock twitches, and you think you might cum again. maybe you already did, you weren’t sure anymore. your cock was soft now, but it still leaks.

you were a fucking mess, and he watches it all like he’s in awe.

“you’re still so good, still letting me play with you.” he coos.

you try to shake your head, but your neck barely moves. you try to answer, but all that comes out was another hoarse sound, and a wet drop from your mouth.

“you’re really just taking it, huh? one after the other?” his palm smooths down your thigh, and you twitched. “you’re not even fighting anymore, not even trying to stop me?” he slows down a little, but presses deeper instead.

user33:

‘THE WHINE??’

user34:

‘he wasn’t even this broken last time..’

“god, you’re such a fucking slut.”

your whole body jerks. it wasn’t from shame, or shock, but because something about that word made your cock twitch.

“oh, you like that.”

you try to turn your face, try to hide from it. but your wrists were tied, your whole body’s bound open, and you can’t go anywhere.

bucky leans in close.

“you let me tie you up, let me use toy after toy until you were drooling all over yourself, and you still haven’t begged me to stop.”

you whimpered.

“why?” he asked, as gently as he could. “huh? why are you letting me slut you out like this?”

you try to answer, you really do, but nothing comes out.

user35:

‘he doesn’t know anymore GOD’

user36:

‘somebody sedate me’

user37:

‘i get him. i’d cry too if someone called me a slut on cam.’

“you like being like this, all fucked out, and wet, don’t you?”

you nod, barely.

bucky thumbs a bit of drool off your face, and smears it down your throat.

“you’re my favourite toy, but you’re also my favourite whore.”

then he starts moving the toy again, faster now, pressing up into your raw prostate with firm thrusts. every thrust punches the air from your lungs. your back arches, and your arms twitch helplessly.

“you’re going to cum again, aren’t you?”

you nod, cry, and moan, all together.

“say it.”

“w-wha..”

“say you’re my little fuck toy, say it or i’ll stop.”

you gulped. there was no fucking way you could.

“i’m- uh, i’m-”

“louder.” he says, voice edged now. “come on, you said everything so easily before this.”

you try again.

“i’m your- f..” your jaw trembles, and you can’t get the rest out.

“oh wow.” he scoffs. “that’s all it took to break you?” he taps the toy again, then starts punching it into you until you cum.

your whole body’s twitching, and the ribbed toy stays buried inside you. your hole clenches around it with every breath, ever small aftershock of ruined pleasure you can’t come down from. you’ve stopped trying to speak.

you think bucky’s done, until you hear him shift on the bed. you hear the sound of his belt coming loose, and the drag of his zipper. he didn’t even bother taking the toy out.

you don’t move, but your mouth parts. no one could see it with the way the camera was angled, but the viewers still freaked out over it.

user38:

‘i need bandage guy to treat me this way too.’

he sees the comment, and reads it out loud.

“someone said: ‘i need bandage guy to treat me this way too.’ you? you’d barely last a minute before crying. you’d fold the second i looked your way.” he scoffs. “still drooling, still open.”

you whimper, and he slides in, no warning. just one firm thrust that pushes his cock deep into your throat, you gag once, but don’t pull away.

“see that? didn’t flinch.” he shifts his hips a little, enough to make you choke again. “he trained the gag reflex out of himself for me. bet you can’t do that.”

you whine, and bucky sighs, his gaze drops back to you.

“look at him, fucking perfect. you think you deserve this?”

bucky starts to move, slow at first, then harder. he’s thrusting into your throat like he’s trying to fuck the breath from your lungs. he knows exactly how deep, and how fast you need it.

“fuck, look at you. so good, so fucking perfect.”

but then he stutters, one sharp thrust in, and he gasps. his hips jerk forward, and before he could react, he’s cumming down your throat. he keeps your head there, mouth stuffed full, swallowing around him without needing to be told. his entire body trembles, and he’s panting now.

he pulls the toy out of you, and looks at you.

“say thank you.”

you twitched.

“th.. thank you..”

bucky then reaches up, and cuts the steam manually. there wasn’t a fade, it was abrupt.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x male reader #x male reader #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #top bucky barnes #dom bucky barnes #sub male reader #bottom male reader #buckfics

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starlinggirll · 9 hours ago

Text

you were the most beautiful woman art has ever seen.

that was a fact from the day he met you to right now.

yet, he couldn't get hard.

it all started two months ago; obviously as a happy couple you both were, you both loved sex. quickies, long hours, giving eachother head. anything that involved making eachother feel good you both loved it. but one day...he just couldn't.

you were wearing pink lacy set, a pretty one, one he picked out for you because he knew you would look so pretty in it. but when the time came, he couldn't. he just couldn't.

he will never forget the face you made; a face of hurt. and how you tried to brush it off saying maybe next night. and again, you both tried, both as in he jerked off minutes before, and you took him in your mouth but nothing changed.

his eyes had followed you when you walked back to the restroom to change. he was a stupid husband, really; he didnt comfort you, didnt try to talk about it. as a matter of fact, neither of you brought it up.

you both spent two months without sex.

those two months were hell.

you hit the gym, thinking that you were the problem, that you weren't attractive enough for him anymore. that you weren't enough for your own husband.

and he...well he did nothing. he did go to the doctor, and he said it was normal, that all men will go through this but that its a matter of time. he didnt have time.

not when he was losing you.

and he saw it, saw everything.

the new friends you got when going to the gym, the way you laughed at what your personal trainer had said the same way you used to laugh with him. and also the way you both beraly even talked.

everything was normal between you and him, but there was less dialogue, less kisses, less hugs, less everything. he knows you're hurting, knows your self esteem is declining and fast.

but he didn't know what to do, how to fix this. he already lost you once he couldn't do it again.

"where are you going?" he whispered as you started changing. leaning against the doorway while he fidgeted with his ring. "oh, the gym." you smiled at him before pulling your hair into a low ponytail. "ah, i see." he mumbled, wanting nothing more than to just hug you, and hold you close.

he doesn't know why he's thinking about it too much. you love when he takes lead. when he manhandles you. but still.

"what time are you coming back?" he hummed, approaching you from behind, nuzzling his nose into your neck. his strong arms snaking around your waist. "the same time i always come back?" you giggled, closing your eyes at his touch.

"cant you like..." he shrugs, turning you around and hoisting you up. "not go?" you squeal, your arms wrapping around his neck. "art put me down! you're going to drop me!" "i would never drop you."

he brushes your words off, tossing you to the bed. "i just want to hold you, cant a husband not hold his beautiful.." he kisses your tummy, tugging at your leggings. "gorgeous..." his lips trail to your chest, quickly lifting your shirt along your bra to kiss your nipple.

"amazing..." his big hands cup your ass, pulling you close to him. "sexy.." by the time he gets to your face you're red, your eyes glossy and your lips trembling as you look down at him. he frowns when he sees you're close to crying.

he pulls you close, (closer than before) and kisses your forehead. "most wonderful wife." he finishes, rubbing your scalp. "im sorry.." he whispers, nuzzling his forehead against yours.

you're not crying, just sniffling.

and he's hard. touching you after being both of you distant both physically and emotionally wise, triggers something in him.

"we're not leaving this bed tonight." he whispers, his voice is soft, but it carries a commanding tone underneath it. "okay." you sniffle, wiping a stray tear before burying your face into his shoulder.

your knee brushes against his crotch, and you realize he's hard. but you dont mention it, not yet anyway. the night is long enough for you to both be babied then ruined.

#this is so bad i js needed to post something #husband art . . . ��#starlinggirl 𑁍ࠬܓ #starlin ꒰ঌ #challengers #mike faist #art donaldson #art donaldson i love you #art donaldson x reader #mike faist x reader #mike faist i need you

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popcornpoppypop · 16 hours ago

Text

The Old Man and the Time Bomb

Summary: Jess and Robby go out for Mexican food. Jess has a seizure. Robby doesn't panic until she's safe at PTMC. When she comes to, fear rears its ugly head.

Warnings: Epileptic seizure, depression, death mentioned (no one dies), service animal

A/N: I'm back in the fucking building. This OC just has me in a chokehold, and she is too fun to write, I can't ignore her. Let me know if you want more with her!

“Okay, class! Eyes on me!” Jess stood at the front of the classroom, a gaggle of rowdy middle schoolers chattering to each other. “If I don’t get eyes on me and mouths closed in five seconds, no movie next week.” Jess put her hand on her hips.

“Sorry, Miss Kahan!” They yelled as they settled in their seats.

“Okay. I know you’re ready for summer. Me too. But we still have a few weeks left and it’s my job to cram some knowledge into those brains of yours before you let them rot during vacation.” Jess sighed.

“I want you to read the last chapter in The Outsiders over the weekend.” She was met with groans and complaints.

“It’s not that bad. I could be making you do hard labor.” She smirked. “On Monday, we’ll have a round table discussion about the themes. I want you to think about what characters you connect with and why. You don’t have to write it down but,”

“Do it anyway!” They finished the sentence for her.

“Just put in a little more effort and you can feel good on the last day.” Jess smiled. The bell rang and they gathered their things.

“Can we say bye to Roger?” One girl piped up.

“I suppose you were good enough.” Jess nodded. “Roger, hop up.” Roger jumped up to sit on the table in front of the class. He softly wagged his tail as each kid petted him and said goodbye.

Jess sat at her desk, piles of papers surrounding her, mocking her. She hated the paperwork part of her job. She just wanted to teach, not grade. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She was grateful for the break.

“Hello?”

“Hey. I forgot to ask if you wanted me to pick you up or not.” Robby’s voice had a magic to it, Jess was convinced. She would feel her shoulders relax the second she heard it.

“I’m good either way.” Jess said.

“You always say that. I hate it. I just want to know what you want.” Robby laughed.

“You’re grumpy.”

“You always are.”

“Come get me, cowboy. I’m just grading papers.” Jess sighed.

“How bad is it?”

“Well, they got To Kill a Mockingbird better than Lord of the Flies. I suppose that’s a good thing.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I still wish it was better.”

“End of the year, makes everyone lose focus.”

“Yeah, but I still have to keep grades up or I get yelled at.”

“You can only do your best.” Robby said.

“Oh wow. Such sage advice. I feel all better. You should put that on a card or something.” Jess snorted.

“Ha-ha. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Robby hung up. Jess let her head fall into her hands. Roger sat at her feet, looking up at her.

“You want to grade these?” She asked him.

Robby had been to pick up Jess a handful of times, but he still felt awkward walking the halls of school after hours. He always wondered how schools all smelled the same. He knocked on the door and popped his head in.

“How’s the grading going?” He smiled as he walked in.

“Could be worse.” Jess sighed, turning her chair to face him, her glasses perched on her nose. She had untucked her blouse, and it hung loosely now. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, stray hairs framing her face.

“Jesus, this is really doing something for me.” Robby’s voice was low and gravelly, his pupils wide.

“You hot for teacher, Dr. Robinavitch?” Jess cocked an eyebrow.

“Desperately.” He hummed.

“Keep it together. You so much as put a hand on my ass and they’ll kick me out.” Jess chuckled.

“Then let's get out of here.” He held out his hand for her, pulling her to her feet. She pulled him down to kiss him.

“You’re driving. I’m getting a margherita.” Jess said, grabbing her purse and Roger’s leash.

“Yes, ma’am.” Robby chuckled as he followed after her.

The restaurant was nice. It was the best Mexican food in town and Jess loved it. She had gone to it constantly in college. She’d spent plenty of time putting back plate after plate of tacos during hangovers. But it was quiet and the lighting wasn’t harsh.

“I just can’t get Charlie to focus. I know he can do it, but he’s just not putting in the effort. I don’t know how to help him anymore.” Jess sighed as she sipped her drink.

“Sometimes you gotta let them fail. I have to do that at work with the med students sometimes.” Robby shrugged.

“I’m not as cold as you. You hard ass.” Jess rolled her eyes.

“Please. You’re worse than me.” Robby chuckled.

“How is Santos?” Jess smiled.

“Better. I hate that I had to humble her. Tried to avoid it.” He shook his head. “She still hasn’t forgiven me for putting her on the hopeless case.”

“She’ll figure it out. She’s smart. Just because it was the lesson she needed, doesn’t mean it’s what she wanted.”

“Wow. You should put that on a card or something.” Robby smirked.

“You’re an ass.” Jess sighed.

“You like my ass.” Robby bowed his head to force eye contact.

“Oh, flirty tonight. Okay.” Jess laughed. “I can flirt.” She smirked. A cop car went driving by outside, lights flashing.

“Always so competitive.” He chuckled. Jess was going to retaliate; her response locked and loaded. But she started to feel off. She fought through it.

“Well, when you’re the best you start to like proving it.” She gave a half-hearted smile.

“You okay?” Robby saw her eyes change.

“Yeah…maybe.” She cleared her throat. Roger stood up and jammed his nose into her thigh three times.

“Shit.” Robby threw the napkin off his lap and went around the table to her side.

“No. I don’t want to do this.” Jess whined.

“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.” Robby put his hand on the back of her neck.

“My bag. My midazolam.” Jess groaned, her mind leaving her. Robby rifled through her bag and pulled the nasal spray out.

“Lean back. Good.” He sprayed up her nose.

“Ugh, taste so bad.” She groaned.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Robby said, pulling his phone out and turning the camera on.

“It’s not working.” Jess mumbled.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Robby told her.

“Everything okay?” A waitress came over, a nervous look on her face.

“Yeah, um, she’s going to have a seizure.” Robby said.

“Oh my god. Should I call an ambulance?” the young woman asked.

“Not yet. I’m a doctor, I’m going to help her through it. But can you just stand nearby in case I need something?”

“O-okay.”

“Just stand a few feet away. What’s your name?”

“Lexi.”

“Can you have your phone on you? Thank you, Lexi.”

“Mikey…” Jess’s head lolled back and forth.

“I’m here, you’re okay. Let’s get you on the floor.” He said, guiding her to lie on the floor, putting his jacket under her head. Roger lay across her legs. Jess’ body started convulsing, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Robby went into work mode. Turning everything clinical, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. He held her body, making sure she didn’t hurt herself. He kept track of time. When she wasn’t stopping after four minutes, his blood ran cold.

“Lexi, I need you to call an ambulance. Bring the phone over so I can talk to dispatch.” He said. The girl scrambled to dial the number, her hands shaking. She couldn’t be more than 19, Robby thought.

“Here.” She put it on speaker.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I have a thirty-four-year-old female, history of epilepsy in a seizure. It’s approaching five minutes since onset. Nasal Midazolam was administered to no effect.” Robby rattled off.

“Where are you located?”

“Maria’s on main street.”

“Okay, I have a unit on it’s way. Are you keeping her away from anything that could cause physical trauma?”

“Yes. I’m Dr. Robinavitch from PTMC. Let them know that’s where we’re going.”

“I’ll inform them. They’re ETA is three minutes.”

“Thank you.” Robby said.

“Here, for her foam stuff.” Lexi handed Robby a clean rag. He wiped at her mouth.

“Will you go and wait for the ambulance at the door, they should be right up the road?” Lexi nodded and ran off.

“Come on, Jess.” Robby begged as he held her convulsing body close.

“Dr. Robby, this your girl?” One of the medics came bounding over.

“Jess. Yeah.” Robby nodded.

“We got her.” He smiled. “Get the IO started I’ll pull up the meds.” He ordered his partner.

“She’s had a dose of Midazolam.” Robby said.

“Yep, it was in the call. You can just be her partner, you don’t have to be her doctor.” He nodded.

“Easier said then done.” Robby scoffed.

“I hear ya.” The medic laughed. “Meds given. Get the nasal canula on her.”

“Jess, can you hear me?” Robby held her face in his hands as she stopped shaking. He was met with a groan.

“Let’s get her on the gurney.” The medics loaded her up and they all started for the rig.

“Lexi, thank you. You did great.” Robby smiled as he ran after them. The young woman smiled and waved.

The ride to PTMC was only four minutes. To Robby it felt like an hour. Jess still hadn’t regained consciousness. Every second that passed made him more anxious.

“Dr. Robby, I need you to jump out first.” The medic nodded.

“Yeah, sorry.” Robby jumped down and watched them unload Jess, Roger trotting next to her. They wheeled into the ER.

“Jess Kahan, history of epilepsy, seizure lasting six minutes.” They rattled off.

“Dr. Robby? Do you know them?” Whittaker asked.

“Yes. Where’s Dr. Abbot?”

“with another patient.”

“Get him.” Robby barked as they went into the trauma bay. The nurses started rushing around, getting her settled onto the bed.

“Hey. What the hell happened?” Jack came bursting in. “Jess? Can you hear me, kid? Come on your stubborn ass can’t wait to throw some insult my way.” He rubbed at her sternum.

“Cop car, triggered it. But she’s been stressed and she had alcohol. I should have fought her on the drinks.” Robby shook his head, getting upset with himself as the adrenaline faded.

“Yeah, like that would have gone over well.” Jack snorted.

“It was six minutes. She needs-”

“Nope, you can’t give orders here. I know what she needs too, brother. Take Roger and wait outside. He always gets upset during this shit.” Jack nodded.

“I want to stay.”

“I know. I don’t need you breathing down my neck. Respectfully, Dr. Robby. Get out of my trauma bay.” Jack pushed him back. Robby knew what he was doing, knew it wasn’t personal. “Roger, get out of here, buddy.” Jack motioned for him to move.

“Come on, Roger.” Robby grabbed his leash and walked out. Dana came rushing up to him.

“Hey, saw her pop up on the board.” She pulled him to a chair to sit.

“It was six minutes.” He mumbled. Roger put his front half on Robby’s lap as he whined.

“Shit. This the first time you saw it?” Dana scratched at the dog’s ears.

“No. Our second date she had a small one, lasted a minute. But it wasn’t bad. This was bad.” Robby cleared his throat.

“Hey, she’s tough. She’ll be okay.” Dana nodded. Robby let out a long, exasperated breath. Roger yawned and whined. “You two are two peas in a pod.” She smirked. “No wonder she wanted you. The human embodiment of her dog.”

“He’s cuter.” Robby shrugged.

“Can’t argue that.” She said, watching as Robby shrank before her eyes. “I’m going to make you some coffee. Get him some water.” She patted his shoulder and walked off. Robby watched them work on Jess from the desk, absent-mindedly stroking Roger’s head.

“She’ll be okay.” Robby murmured to himself. He saw Jack laugh and knew she had started to gain consciousness. He took Roger and ran back in.

“Jess?” Robby leaned over the bed. Her eyes were red and half-opened, face pale.

“Scared ya?” She grumbled, her voice rough and garbled.

“More than a little, yeah.” Robby nodded.

“How much of a control freak were you?” She mumbled.

“I didn’t let him. Kicked him out.” Jack said.

“Oh. Well, then. Someone found his balls.” Jess attempted to smile.

“You’re getting an MRI for that one.” Jack snorted.

“Cruel.” Jess sighed.

“Glad to see your personality is still intact.” Robby smiled.

“You look like shit.” She raised her hand to his face.

“That’s on you.”

“Roger?”

“He’s here.” Robby gave the command for him to jump on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, good boy. I know you hate the ambulance.” She scratched his chin. “Make sure he gets food soon. He can have a sandwich, I don’t care. Not peanut butter though, too much sugar.” Jess nodded.

“I’ve got him, don’t worry. You just worry about you.”

“Boring.” Jess snorted.

“Alright, they’re taking you up for imaging now. Have your teary goodbyes and all that shit.” Jack said.

“If I remember correctly, last time I had a bad one, you were the one crying.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” Jack chuckled as he left.

“If you don’t have an apple juice waiting for me when I get back, I’m breaking up with you.” Jess smirked.

“Yes, ma’am. I can come up with you, ya know?” Robby held her hand.

“Naw, you’ll make everyone nervous. I don’t want to deal with that. Besides, you gotta feed my dog or he’ll never forgive you.” She squeezed his hand.

“Alright. Be nice.” Robby kissed her.

“I always am.” She said as the tech wheeled her off. Robby stood in the trauma bay for a minute, feeling like he had just run a mile.

“Come on, cap. Drink your coffee.” Dana pulled up back to his chair. “She’s doing okay. You can relax.”

“I can’t.” Robby sighed. Jack walked up, tossing two sandwiches at Robby.

“His favorite is ham,” Jack noted as he worked on his computer. Roger sat up, looking from the sandwiches to Robby.

“Alright, bud.” He chuckled as he unwrapped the food and handed it to the dog. “She seemed with it. Probably no damage.” Robby sighed, speaking mostly to himself.

“I’m telling you this because I think you should know, I don’t think she’ll hide it from you, but I could tell she was nervous. She had weakness on her left side, particularly her leg.” Jack sighed.

“What? You didn’t say anything in there.” Robby looked up at him, his brows scrunched in a mixture of anger and fear.

“She didn’t want me to say anything until she was getting imaging.”

“What the fuck, Jack!?”

“Look, she’s a proud woman. She is strong and stubborn and hates it when people look at her like an invalid. She knew if you knew, you’d get that look on your face that everyone gets. She doesn’t want pity. She barely wants empathy.” Jack was protective of Jess. Always had been, but as the years went by and they grew to actually know each other, he saw her more sisterly. He knew he shouldn’t; he was her doctor and nothing more. But she had a way of wiggling her way into people’s lives and not leaving. At some point, he stopped fighting it.

“I don’t get that look.” Robby snapped.

“You do. Everyone does. It’s worse from you because she loves you. She never wants to see it on the people she loves.”

“You should have said something, I would have gone with her!” Robby felt himself getting unreasonable, but couldn’t stop it. Roger sat at his feet, licking at the exposed ankle.

“I did what my patient requested, and I’d do it again. You aren’t her husband, Robby. You don’t have rights here. Even if you were, I still wouldn’t have said anything. You know I’m right. You’re too upset to see reason.” Jack bit.

“Alright, boys. Calm down. He’s right, Robby. Drink your coffee.” Dana sighed.

Robby took Roger and went out to the ambulance bay. He needed to cool off. He paced back and forth, every terrible scenario battering his mind. Roger kept watching him as he walked next to him, aware of the man’s distress.

“Dr. Robby, everything okay?” Mel’s voice broke his train of thought.

“Yes. Just thinking.” He grumbled. Mel stood watching him pace like a tiger in a zoo.

“It’s hard. When someone you love is ill.” She said, her arms twisted around each other with her hands clasped in front of her.

“I’m fine, Dr. King.” He huffed.

“When my mom got sick, I had to hide how much it affected me so I could care for Becca. Maybe it was also to protect myself. Anyway, it didn’t help anything.” She sighed.

“I don’t want to do whatever this is.” Robby stopped. Roger whined at his feet.

“I know. But I wanted you to know that, if you aren’t fine, it’s okay. Maybe, tell her that you aren’t fine. Before it builds up into something you can’t control.” Mel shrugged. “She’s back from imaging, by the way.” She walked back inside without another word.

“Fuck.” Robby hated when his residents schooled him, even if it happened often.

“She’s in room 2.” Jack didn’t look up from his computer, still upset with Robby. He’d be over it in an hour, but he wasn’t fighting it.

“Thanks.” Robby brushed past him to the fridge at the nurses' station, grabbing an apple juice and heading for room 2.

“I told them that girls never like stupid boys, and within a week, grades went up.” Jess laughed as she regaled Dana with her story.

“Your methods of motivation maybe controversial, but damn if they don’t work.” Dana gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“You should see what I do to get Mikey to clean my gutters.” The wicked smile he couldn’t resist plastered across her face. His anxiety started to melt away.

“Mikey?” Dana looked up at him, her face bursting at the seams from trying to keep herself from laughing.

“Don’t.” Robby warned.

“I get special permission on account of me su-”

“Okay! Dana, can we have a minute?” Robby stopping Jess before she embarrassed him beyond repair.

“Yeah, sure,” She giggled. “Jack will be in once the radiologist’s report is in.” She shook her head, laughing as she left the room.

“I was going to say such a good girlfriend.” Jess teased.

“Sure you were.” Robby sat next to her. “Your apple juice.” He handed her the bottle, his fingertips trailing down her arm.

“My hero.” She took a long sip, the sugar almost immediately making her feel better. “I feel alive again.” She flopped back onto the bed.

“How’s the leg?” Robby cocked an eyebrow.

“Ah. Abbot told you.” She rolled her eyes. “At least he waited.”

“You don’t need to hide things from me.” Robby gathered her hand in his, his thumb tracing absentminded patterns.

“I know. I’m just not used to someone who can handle this shit.” She looked away, suddenly feeling shy.

“I’m here for all of it, Jess. But when you don’t tell me things, it makes me worry.”

“I’m just waiting for you to run, I guess. It’s a defense mechanism. I’m usually everyone’s worst date story.” She looked up at him, there was a vulnerability in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before.

“Well, you’re my best date story. If that helps.” He smiled.

“No way.”

“Why?”

“You’re telling me that Mexican food and me pissing myself, is the best date you’ve had? That’s sad.” Jess chuckled.

“Stop. You know what I mean.” He lifted her hand to his lips, laying a gentle kiss to her skin.

“What a sap.” She felt herself start to tear up.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“My leg feels weak. It’s probably just post-seizure weakness. It happens sometimes, especially after big ones.” Jess dismissed.

“Sure.” Robby nodded, seeing through her words. “We’ll figure it out, if it isn’t.” He wished he were better at comforting her.

“You don’t need to promise anything.” She wouldn’t lift her eyes to meet his.

“I don’t make promises that I don’t intend to keep.”

“You can intend to keep them all you like, but when it gets hard, intent doesn’t mean much.” Her voice was sharper than she meant it. Roger jumped onto the foot of the bed, a small groan coming from him.

“Why are you acting like I’m going to leave? Have I given you reason to think that?” Robby felt the frustration rising again.

“Everyone does. Everyone always does. When you realize that I might drop dead someday, with no explanation, you’ll think twice about this. And you should.”

“Wow. That’s cold.” Robby scoffed. There was a knock on the door and Jack appeared with a tablet in his hand.

“Got the results back. Shit. Did I interrupt something?” Jack felt the wall of irritation as he entered.

“No.” Robby snapped.

“What you got, Abbot?” Jess cleared her throat.

“Your brain is as normal as you can manage. No bleeds or damage can be seen from the images we got today. You have Todd’s Paralysis, nothing a little rest can’t cure.” Jack explained.

“I’ve never hated anyone more than fucking Todd, whoever the fuck he is.” Jess grumbled.

“We’re going to monitor you for the next hour, make sure you don’t seize again. But I’ll let you go early if this guy takes you home.” He nudged Robby with his elbow.

“I’ll watch her.” Robby nodded.

“Don’t sound so excited.” Jack huffed.

“He’s upset that I’m a realist.” Jess rolled her eyes.

“Pessimist.” Robby said.

“Sure. Whatever. I’ve done this before, don’t forget. Jack’s seen the boys who leave as soon as the nurses take over. Never hear from them again. I’ve watched as the infatuation turns to apprehension and disgust.” Jess hissed.

“Boys, boys. Not men.” Robby spat.

“Oh, right. You think you’re more of a man than them? Because you stayed? Because you fed my dog a sandwich? Is that how low the bar is?”

“I don’t think, any of this is constructive or whatever the therapists say. Maybe you should take a breather.” Jack cleared his throat.

“Why are you doing this? Huh? What did I do for you to act like this all of a sudden?” Robby flailed his arms as he spoke.

“I’ll be back when you two calm down.” Jack scurried out of the room.

“Nothing! You just can’t handle the truth! I get it! I do, it’s a hard pill to swallow!”

“Just because it’s hard, doesn’t mean I don’t want to do this! How do I convince you that I’m staying!? I don’t want to go anywhere!” Robby rubbed a hand over his face.

“I don’t know!”

“You’re just as scared as me, that’s what this is!”

“Yes! I’ve been terrified since I was eleven and shaking on the floor of Mrs. Perkins' classroom! I’m scared of this getting so good I can’t live without it and waking up from a seizure half myself or never waking up again!” Jess sobbed.

“Jess…” Robby jumped up and wrapped her in his arms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept going.” He murmured into her hair.

“I pushed you.” She cried. “I pushed, because I just…I never know how to act when people care.” She looked up at him, wide-eyed and red-faced.

“Me either.” Robby hummed.

“I…I think I love you. I don’t want to be the reason you grieve one day.” She hiccupped. Robby tucked her hair behind her ears.

“I know I love you. I know you’re scared. But, if you go before me, I’ll see it as a privilege to have loved you so much, that I’m riddled with grief.” Robby kissed her forehead.

“The old man and the ticking time bomb. Who goes first?” She smirked.

“Couldn’t stop yourself, huh?” Robby chuckled.

“I can’t give you what other women can.” She sighed.

“I don’t want other women.”

“I can’t be the homemaker. I can’t guarantee a clean house or a cooked dinner.”

“I don’t want a homemaker. I’m in my fifties, not from the 50s.”

“I won’t have kids. I won’t put them through this.”

“I don’t need kids to have a fulfilled life.”

“I kick puppies.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to get you to stop countering me.” Jess pulled him down to kiss her. Robby happily obliged.

“I think Roger might have something to say about that last one.” Robby laughed.

“I will give you more dogs, though.” Jess smiled.

“I like dogs. I get to pick the next one.” He gave Roger a pat on the head.

“We’ll see.” Jess ran her fingers through his hair.

#the pitt #the pitt fanfiction #dr. robby #dr. michael robinavitch #dr. robinavitch #dr. robby fluff #dr. robby x reader #robby robinavitch #dr. michael robinavitch x oc #michael robinavitch x reader #dr. michael “robby” robinavitch x reader #noah wyle #tw epilepsy #tw death #tw depression #tw service animals

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hedwig221b · 3 days ago

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I didn’t know if you could recommend something in a similar vein to Hung the Moon by BurnItAllClean on ao3?

I learned about that fic from your blog so I didn’t know if you could recommend something similar?

Thank you, and appreciate all your writing and recommendations you’ve given us!

Hi! Idk what you really want, bc this fic has a lot of tropes, so?.. I think you might enjoy xcaellachx fics:

Accept My Claim (As I Hold My Breath) by xcaellachx

Shifters outnumber humans and the world has accepted the ancient shifter ritual of Claiming. This includes courting, the verbal claim, the mating bite, and the public claiming. You guessed it, public sex. Alpha Derek Hale has known Stiles Stilinski was his mate since the human was 15. Being Derek, he has issues, and doesn't make the move to claim him until it is almost too late. Theo Raeken is intent on Stiles becoming his mate and he doesn't intend to wait. Stiles is feeling lonely since Scott claimed Allison as his mate and is wondering if he'll be alone forever. What is he to think when the psycho Theo starts sniffing around him and then suddenly the smoking hot alpha of Beacon Hills is paying attention to him too?

His Abandoned Omega by xcaellachx

Stiles Stilinski is an omega who was promised to an unknown alpha in a much-anticipated and influential arranged mating. When his alpha never showed, his family and the town took it out on Stiles in the form of physical and mental abuse. He has become a shadow of himself, lonely and desperate for affection. Derek Hale refused to let himself be trapped in an arranged mating so after college he never returned home. Now he must return to Beacon Hills because his father is ill, though he has a feeling it is nothing more than a trap. One chance meeting changes both of their lives and Derek is determined to end his arranged mating so he can claim the omega of his dreams with the gorgeous whiskey eyes. Stiles is filled with hope for the first time in years, but he has sworn to save himself for his arranged alpha. Will Derek be able to change his mind or will the town beat Stiles down before he can?

and DarkAthena (seraphim_grace):

The White Hart of Winter by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Sent to marry the Hale Beast Stiles finds himself alone in a castle left to ruin and watched over by Kate Argent, who he thinks is sleeping with his new husband and seems determined to destroy him.

also Dexterous_Sinistrous has similar vibes I would say:

My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be. “Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied. “We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged. “That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”

Love's Violent Delights by Dexterous_Sinistrous

Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted. Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek. Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.

and, of course, linking this absolute treasure, my beloved

Hung The Moon by BurnItAllClean (nrnyx)

Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.

[masterlist link]

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imsobadatnicknames2 · 24 hours ago

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hi so ive been interested in designing my own ttrpg lately, and a big part of that is simply becoming familiar with extant ttrpgs and their genres. so i come to you to ask for good introductions (not necessarily to play, but to read) to the dungeon crawling genre. like, ones which sort of make clear what exactly dungeon crawling is, and what the appeal of it is.

Ok well! This is an interesting ask!

Before I make any recommendation, I'll just say that in my personal opinion, a good dungeon-crawler includes all or most of the following elements:

Emphasis on resource management, the PCs' resources should be always dwindling in a way that makes the choice to retreat vs. push forward a meaningful one

Emphasis on attention to detail and environment interaction, as well as resourceful and creative usage of the tools at the PCs' disposal to overcome challenges with no predefined solution.

Mechanics that disincentive combat as the default outcome of every encounter (such as high lethality, no guarantee of "balanced" encounters, significant time and/or resource investment required to recover from damage taken during a fight, etc.) The decision to engage in combat should not be the default assumption whenever a creature is encountered, it should be one that always carries significant risks and potential consequences, ideally incentivizing players to find creative or resourceful ways to bypass combat situations through stealth, deception, parlay, fleeing, etc., and only engage in it when they think exposing themselves to those consequences is justified or the only option (or when they've found an ingenious way to tip the scales in their favor).

A reward structure that encourages players to explore and interact with the environment, such as the classic Gold For XP rule that encourages players to search every nook and cranny for any bit of hidden treasure.

Systems that encourage an open-ended structure with no pre-defined GM-authored narrative.

That's just my opinion though. I think that a bit essential reading for your purposes would be any of the D&D editions from when the main focus of the game was still dungeon-crawling rather than grand epic high fantasy adventures. I recommend reading the Basic booklet from the 1981 Basic/Expert set, which is probably the D&D edition that has had the most explicit influence over the modern dungeon-crawling revival (B/X retroclones are basically their own entire subgenre of the OSR). Old-school D&D is just a good starting point to understand a lot of the basic elements and base assumptions that later dungeon-crawlers are, in some way or another, in conversation with. But like. D&D's legacy looms so large here that this recommendation was probably already a given.

While it isn't a game, but rather a primer formatted as a collection of Player and GM principles, I would also say that the Principia Apocrypha is also pretty much required reading, as it's IMO the clearest distillation of the play culture that modern OSR and OSR-adjacent dungeon-crawlers are try to incentivize.

I think it's also an example of something I find interesting about the OSR and its associated play culture: as @thydungeongal (I think it was her, at least) put it once, as much as the OSR community claims to be getting back to the roots of the hobby, much of its play culture is actually an exercise in historical revisionism. The play culture espoused by the OSR community isn't really a faithful recreation of the play culture that actually existed around dungeon games back in the day, but more like. an attempt to reverse-engineer a play culture that's actually compatible with the mechanics and assumptions of old-school dungeon games. And I think the Principia Apocrypha is a wonderful and clear distillation of this reverse-engineered play culture.

As for my actual recommendations now:

Mausritter by Isaac Williams, I know I'm always recommending Mausritter every time I get the chance but like. I don't only recommend it because it's my favorite game, but because it's extremely approachable regardless of your previous level of familiarity with tabletop rpgs (probably one of the best possible introductory games to the hobby) AND it does a lot of stuff that is relevant here.

First of all, despite the fact that it doesn't explicitly refer to its adventure locations as "dungeons" or use the term "dungeon-crawling" or related, it *is* very much a dungeon game, and explicitly spells out the gameplay loop and setting assumptions of dungeon games: the world is dangerous, settlements are small, rare, and usually their stability is threatened in some way, and you play as one of the few people who are willing to brave the dangerous outside world to find riches to bring back to the safety of a settlement (it's trivially easy to point out the ways in which this setup has the potential for a lot of #unsavory ideological implications, but it *is* the standar dungeon game setup and it *does* make for a compelling gameplay loop). It also explicitly spells out a lot of the principles that support my ideas for what makes a good dungeon crawler. For example, I like how it explicitly encourages players to be resourceful by straight-up telling them that relying on dice-rolls is dangerous, that dice rolls can be avoided with preparation and resourcefulness, as actions that you attempt with a good plan or the right tools automatically succeed without a roll, and thus the most optimal way to play is one where you minimize or completely eliminate the necessity to roll dice through clever planning and use of the tools at your disposal.

I also really like how it leans into the resource management aspect by tying so many of its mechanics to inventory management. Like. Its cars-based physical inventory is cute and distinctive and intuitive:

But it also clearly has to exist because shuffling items around in your inventory is such a load-bearing mechanic for many of its systems. Like, inventory is extremely limited (you have two paw slots, two body slots, and six slots in your backpack, that's all the items you can carry, and being completely encumbered gives you disadvantage on every roll), which of course limits the tools and resources you can bring into a dungeon, but also:

The only source of XP in the game is treasure: the XP you get is equal to the value in pips (the mouse kingdoms' standard currency) of any treasure that you bring back from a dungeon to a settlement. This means you need to balance making sure you bring any gear you'll need with making sure you leave yourself enough free inventory space to be able to carry any treasure you find.

Negative conditions take up an inventory slot each, which makes them especially dangerous and hard to ignore, as getting hit with a negative condition might mean having to leave some of your items or treasure behind.

Spells are physical items in your inventory, and you need to be holding them in your paw in order to cast them. This means that not only the space you dedicate to spells in your inventory is an important choice, but also WHERE you put them in your inventory (items in your body slots are assumed to be strapped to your upper body and may be freely swapped to your hands at any point, but items in your pack slots require an action to retrieve).

A common argument against the kind of resource management centered in this type of dungeon-crawling gameplay is that inventory management is boring and tedious, but Mausritter shows how much well-exevuted inventory management adds to this gameplay style. It not only makes keeping track of inventory fun and effortless, but also explicitly turns it into an extremely engaging source of tension and challenge by tying it to as many of its systems as possible.

There's a lot else I could say about Mausritter (like how much I like its damage system, which is very effective at having longer-term consequences for getting hurt in co.bat beyond HP loss without being too very punishing, how much I like the faction system, how good its GM toolkit is, etc.) but let's move on.

Dungeon Crawl Classics by Goodman Games is a game I kinda slept on for a long while, because as far as I knew it was mostly an AD&D clone with an admittedly cool artste that evokes the more pulpy illustrations of 80's D&D with a bit of a grimier feel to it. But after checking it out, it's a very unique game that leans very hard on the strange, chaotic, pulpy gonzo side of dungeon-crawling. The most distinctive feature of DCC is its heavy use of an absurd amount of random tables. While this can be a bit cumbersome to be quite honest, the randomness inherent to the system and the sheer number of strange and absurd table results do a phenomenal job of Putting The PCs in A Situation™ in a way that requires them to be constantly on their toes. It's just a lot of (extremely chaotic, extremely lethal) fun, as the players can never know what to expect and they can easily be thrown into disarray at a moment's notice and have to think on their feet. Definitely not for everyone but it's very interesting nonetheless.

DCC is also responsible for creating the concept of the level 0 funnel adventure (or at the very least popularizing, not sure if any other game did it before but DCC definitely was the game that brought attention to it): the game starts with a big group of level 0 characters, with the understanding that their first adventure will serve as a meatgrinder in which most of them will inevitably die (which is why each player starts off controlling up to 4 characters). Only the ones that survive their first adventure get to advance to level 1 and pick a character class to become full-fledged adventurers. Starting off controlling several characters with the assumption that most of them will not survive long into their first adventure is an extremely heavy-handed but very effective way of establishing the tone of high lethality I mentioned before, which is an essential tool for forcing players to find ways to deal with encounters other than immediately charging into combat.

Knave 2e by Ben Milton is a pretty solid D&D-adjacent dungeon crawler with enough cool features to mechanically stand apart as its own thing (such as the fact that the system is designed to effortlessly convert any GM-facing roll into a player-facing roll if desired, and some relatively unique character generation procedures) while still preserving compatibility with most D&D adventures, which is really cool. It has very clear and streamlined procedures for dungeon and wilderness exploration, it makes extensive use of tons of random tables for nearly everything you might need to generate on the fly (although not to the same degree as DCC, nor anywhere near as chaotic), it's a very cool implementation of a classless system where PCs are mostly defined by their inventory, and a lot of other good stuff. However, none of these are the reason I bring it up. The reasons I recommend it for your purposes here are:

1) Its magic system is really emblematic of what I said about emphasizing resourcefulness and creative use of your resources. Knave has a pretty sizable spell list (as well as tables for randomly generating even more spells), but if you start with a spell, you have no control over what spell it is, and. more importantly: Knave 2e doesn't have any spells explicitly meant for combat. There aren't any spells in the game that have the effect of directly causing damage to a creature. This, along with the fact that the spell(s) you start with are random, means that players are incentivized to apply their spells creatively, both in and out of combat. Because the thing is: magic *does* have the potential to be used for combat, but doing so requires a great deal of creative lateral thinking on how to apply it.

And, most importantly, 2) Knave is a game that's very upfront and explicit about what its best practices and design goals are. Not only does it have clearly spelled out GM and Player principles that are very clear about its intended playstyle and what is expected of GMs and players in order to have the intended experience, but the last section of the book also features designer's commentary about pretty much every mechanic and feature of the game, explaining what its purpose is, why it works the way it does, and what its influences and inspirations are, which I think is particularly useful for your case.

Shadowdark by Kelsey Dionne is one that I don't have as much to say about. It's a game built on the skeleton of 5e but massively stripped down and trying to replicate the spirit and gameplay style of old-school dungeon-crawlers. For the most part it's a solid but pretty standard "old-school style game but with modern quality-of-life improvements", but what I find remarkable about it is how it emphasizes an aspect of dungeon-crawling that's often overlook or handwaved: light and dark. Not only can characters not see in the dark, but also being in the dark gives disadvantage on every roll, which makes it appropriately dangerous and oppressive. But the most unique thing about it is the fact that light sources run on a real-time one-hour timer, and the book encourages the GM to constantly threaten the party's light source with environmental effects and whatnot, which makes darkness a much more pressing danger, It also incorporates an optional DCC-style funnel adventure mode, as well as a ton of optional game modes which modify certain rules (such as shorter light source timers and a ton of other stuff), which is pretty neat.

This one's probably the most different out of the bunch I'm going to mention, but... Dungeon Bitches by @cavegirlpoems is a very interesting example of taking the core conceits of the premise of a dungeon-crawler and using them to produce a queer narrative about trauma, centering queer women (especially trans women). In terms of mechanics it's very different from all the other ones i've mentioned because it's a Powered By the Apocalypse game, but it still goes out of its way to incorporate a lot of the principles of OSR play, just on a different mechanical chassis. In terms of its queer themes, Dungeon Bitches is a game that asks the question "what kind of person would actually end up having to do this for a living?" and concludes that the kind of people who would end up gravitating to dungeon-crawling as a career would be the most marginalized, the people who have no place for them in polite society. As explained on the original post from 2020 on cavegirl's blogspot:

Here's the pitch. A faux-medieval gritty fantasy setting with all your standard crap hetero-patriarchal assumptions. Political marriages, dowries, etc etc. Not the best society to be a queer girl in. Luckily, if the thought of getting married off and having to pretend like you're happy with that is too much for you, there are two options.

-You can run away and join a nunnery. This is slightly more socially acceptable, much less likely to get you killed, but will also result in living a life defined by limitations and restrictions.

-You can run away, join a band of similar (heavily armed) bitches, and make a living as mercenaries, tomb-robbers and adventurers. This is far less socially acceptable, and far more dangerous, but you might get rich, fall in love, and be able to wreak terrible vengeance on the society that wronged you.

So... yeah. It's an excellent game imo and one that leverages and recontextualizes the core assumptions of the genre for a very different purpose in a really cool way.

Lastly, for a game that boils dungeon crawling almost completely down to its bare essentials, check out bastards. by Micah Anderson. It has a lot of the elements of a lot of the games I mentioned above, but distilled down to their bare essence both in terms of mechanics and in terms of how they're described, at the cost of presuming a high level of prior familiarity with the ttrpgs and the assumptions of the dungeon-crawler genre. I just like how stylish it is and how flavorful it manages to be with so little.

Some other games that I think you should check out but I can't really write about here, either because the cool stuff they do is similar to games I already mentioned but executed in a different way, because I don't have that much interesting commentary about them, or because I haven't read them myself and my awareness of their cool features is all secondhand so I can't rlly vouch for it:

DURF by Emiel Boven

.dungeon by Snow

Songbirds 3e by Snow

The Black Hack by David Black

Torchbearer by Thor Olavsurd and Luke Crane

Troika by the Melsonian Arts Council

Tunnel Goons by Higland Paranormal Society

Cairn by Yochai Gal

a dungeon game by Chris Bisette

#ttrpg

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h4untedgh0ul · 18 hours ago

Text

ᴡᴀᴠᴇꜱ

PAIRING: azzi fudd x fem reader x paige bueckers

ꜱʏᴘɴᴏꜱɪꜱ:

after a messy break up, the three of you fight to make it work again (or something like that because i got lazy at the end)

wc: idek

genre: angst-ish, fluff at the end

The love that y/n, azzi and paige shared was picture perfect. It was so perfect that it never showed what went on behind the scenes. After all a picture is only a sliver of a moment, the before and after of that picture are never truly known or captured only to the ones that experienced it. You should’ve known that. But tangled up with your own doubts you drove a wedge between the picture you guys created.

Here’s how it all started:

It was a dark friday night and you found yourself tangled up on the couch that was in your shared penthouse. The room was dim, with a candle lit on the table its sweet vanilla aroma filling the room. The tv silently hummed in the background, while you scrolled through instagram. Paige and Azzi were currently out at an after party for something basketball related. You weren’t mad not in the slightest, they had asked you to come with them pouring and begging but you were tired. “Thank God for the weekend,” is what you told them. So despite wanting you to come with they still went and you didn’t feel any way about it because you knew what you meant to them or so you thought. You were scrolling until you were tagged in a post. You glanced at your phone quizzically because not many people know your account, your relationship was a secret to the public. However, you reluctantly clicked on the post, your breath caught as you seen the post not knowing if you should be mad or not. But you couldn’t help the emotions that bubbled. The post was a picture of Paige and Azzi seeming to be dancing with a girl sandwiched between them. Paige’s hands on her waist and Azzi’s arms around the girl’s shoulders from behind.

You threw your phone out of frustration and sat in silence. You didn’t know if you should over react or not because after being a sports media manager you knew that a photo couldn’t tell everything. Yet, you believed that picture; you believed the chemistry, you believed that they replaced you just for the night because you didn’t go, you let too many thoughts wander. The thoughts that drove a wedge. You got up from the couch grabbing your phone and went to the bedroom. You flopped on the king sized bed and got under the covers not wanting to face anything else. The night seemed to past by slowly as you laid in bed wondering what truly could’ve happened. You started to think if the three years of being with them were worth it.

Around 3am the girls returned stumbling over each other while you pretended to be asleep for the sake of not wanting to start an argument while the girls were intoxicated. The pair stumbled in the room. Azzi shushed paige because she thought you were asleep. Paige just muttering about how much fun they had and that’s when something broke in you. You couldn’t pretend like you weren’t furious and hurt. So you slowly turned looking at the girls, who rushed over. “Baby” “Hi my pretty girl” said the two girls. You just silently hugged them and they pulled bag looking at you. Azzi was the first to speak, “what’s wrong my little baby?” You winced at the nickname knowing that they were the only ones allowed to call you that. You sighed and asked “how was the party?” Azzi said “good” while paige started rambling on how she murdered the dance floor with her rhythm. Which earned a quiet laugh out of you before you muttered “did the girl have that rhythm as well?” Azzi looked at you confused and paige said “what?”

From there all hell broke loose. You fussed at them about feeling like you guys kept your relationship a secret for the sake of them being able to do things in public with others. They tried to deny it profusely but you just talked over them saying how you known that they had more chemistry together and pretend that you meant nothing. They tried to tell you how much you loved them and how all three of you share a chemistry so strong. But as you mutter the words “I’m done” the room silenced. “What?” Paige said. So you said it slightly louder. “I’m done.” Azzi crouched in front of you “No, baby please. That girl meant nothing, we have something that can’t be found. Please don’t leave.” Paige started tearing up and apologizing “I’m sorry you felt like this. we can fix it I swear we can.” You just shook your head weak but firm. “I just can’t do this,” you said standing up. The girls profusely begging while you just grabbed a bag and packed. The girls begging and crying following you around while you packed, you didn’t budge just kept moving around the shared space. The last thing you heard before you shut the front door was “I love you please stay.” But you know you couldn’t not when you blew it this far and spoke words that would need time to heal. After you left you assumed everything was fine but what you didn’t see was Azzi crumpling behind the door, paige trashing the room and the girls sobbing and holding each other until they went to sleep.

A few weeks later:

You became a party animal. Any party that had alcohol you were there. Any words of good music you were there, you lost yourself in the process too, soi ng anything to be seen.

“I’m a go out with my friends

i’d rather let the liquor sink in.”

You knew better than to drink so much, but it gave you the courage to keep going. Your friend invited you tonight. So you wore a black mini skirt paired with a black tube top. Your hair was straightened different from your curls that cascaded down your back. You straightened your hair because you knew how much the pair loved it. You remember the late nights that followed; but you didn’t let yourself sulk too much because after all you caused it. You posted a picture on your instagram story, paige and azzi still following you. You tell yourself that you didn’t post for them but you know you did. You put the song “little bit” by drake and Lykke li over it knowing that it was yall song. You just craved their attention again but you couldn’t be weak to something that you started. Because after all you kept “having thoughts of them that you shouldn’t have been thinking.”

The night progressed as you took more shots, you pulled out your phone and seen instagram notifications. One from Azzi, Two from paige and others from randoms. Azzi had hearted the post, a soft reaction just like her love gentle, patient, soft but passionate. Paige on the other hand hearted it and slid up “you look good, my.” Hers seemed appreciative and cautious as if typing out “miss you” instead of abbreviating it would land differently. But it reminded you of her love too, she would always compliment you and tell you how thankful she was. You hearted paige’s message before closing your phone. You couldn’t take the pressure of what you caused so you order another drink and turned to your friend and asked her to dance. Even though you felt physically free, mentally you were fighting off the thoughts of reaching out. You knew you should but it felt wrong especially now. Because even though you were out with if friend you couldn’t help but think “when i’m with someone else, it’s feeling like i’m cheating.”

The two of you danced for a while before you sat down. Your friend came over shortly after and asked how you’re feeling. However, you took that wrong and thought she meant with the break up so you spent thirty minutes rambling about how much you missed them and you never wanted to break up but it was a spur of the moment due to your emotions. Your friend listened and gave you advice, she didn’t want to beat you up more than your thoughts had so she listened silently after a while. You chuckled after realizing how ridiculous you sound after you did this, over a picture that never told the true story.

“i just might go off the deep end.

With how much you’ve been thinking about them, you start to believe this.

When i’ve had too much,

can’t shut me up.

When then liquor becomes too much you talk about them like they’re the number one priorities in your life right now besides God.

That’s when you start to creep in.”

When the liquor settles you know that’s when the thoughts of them will consume you.

The two of you go out to dance again before heading home. You cleaned up the best way your intoxicated self could and wallows in your thoughts. Thinking that “everyone is sick of all your reasons.” That night you could barely sleep. It didn’t feel like home and it wasn’t comfortable without the two people you’ve been cuddle up with the past three years. Meanwhile, Paieg and Azzi felt the same. Paige told Azzi how you hearted her reply but said nothing back which caused an ache in both of their hearts. However, they took that as a sign, they believed that you didn’t shut them out completely.

A week later things changed not for the better but it wasn’t the worst either. It’s been a full month without each other and you couldn’t help the pain of the new picture Paige and Azzi posted together snuggled up. You were sitting in the couch of the small apartment you found just thinking. You knew that they loved each other but it made your mind wander to that night. The one where you mean ruined that had better chemistry than you with Azzi and you with Paige. You knew not to think about them as much because you probably weren’t thought about in the same way. However, the thoughts that crossed the three of your minds “came and go like seasons.” Slow, steady and emotional. You were starting to forget how their bodies felt against yours but you remembered their voices. Just like you remember the bitter cold of winter but the sounds of summer fun. You slowly got up and started your day. You didn’t know what to do with having the day off and you no longer wanted to party. So you walked around town just pondering if the break up was ever that serious. You passed this little flower botique, on the corner of the block. As much as you wanted to go passed it your heart wouldn’t let you so you went in and bought two bouquets. Both having a mixture of red roses and white lilies. Roses for the sake of romance and the sake of lilies being your favorite so they couldn’t mistake who they were from. You don’t even know why you bought flowers but you needed closure is what you tell yourself. Before dropping them off at the old place, you wrote in one of the note cards “First i blame you, then I want you” and in the other “Fucking hate you, then I love you.” You grabbed a sticking note from your purse (you’re a sports media manager you always have them) to place on their door marked “I can’t help myself.”

You arrive at their place the space sounding quiet so you leave them outside their door. You quickly scurry off back to your place in hopes of not being seen. You undressed into something more comfier and sit down on the couch turning on reality tv and eating a fruit snack. You were into the reruns of “keeping up with the kardashians” as your phone went off with a notification. The notification read “azzifudd35 posted a new story.” You knew it was wrong of you to still have their post notifs on but you couldn’t help yourself. So you clicked on it and the flowers you had bought were posted with the song “Little Bit.” Your song. You knew it was towards you but you couldn’t grin knowing that you guys are like this in the first place. A few moments later, Paige texts you a “thanks <3,” you reply “yw <3” as if it was the easiest thing to do. Because at one point it was. You sigh turning off your phone. Heading to your room ready to call it day even though it was 7:30pm. You go to bed softly humming one of your favorite songs that was keeping you afloat you right now. It said the things that you couldn’t.

“When I have you, wanna leave you.

If you go that’s when, I need you.

I can’t help myself no.”

The next morning you awake bright and early around 8:30am. You check your door to see if there’s mail but see a bouquet instead. It was mixed with purple lilies, blue daisies and some other flowers that you couldn’t identify. You bring them inside and were puzzled because no one knew this address, well besides Paige and Azzi. This is because before you guys moved in together you kept a place just incase you guys wanted spaced or quiet time. You grin a little knowing it could be from them. You go to place them in a vase on your counter and a note slips out. It reads “You come in waves, every hour, every day little baby.” You smile like the world couldn’t steal it away and take a quick pick and post it. This time you put “🫶🏽🫶🏽” but nothing else. Shortly after the post your phone dings quickly after and it’s in the shared group chat of you, Paige and azzi on imessage. You didn’t block them, you never had the heart to.

my nonchalant baby 💗:

hope you like them, azzi wrote the note

my princess 🤍:

don’t expose me, you picked the flowers.

you:

let’s not bicker, i loved them! thanks.

You didn’t mean to sound dry but with them calling each other out, it reminded you of the dumb pranks they would pull and try to point fingers at each other. like one time when paige put flour over the door not knowing that your friend was coming too. Both girls pointed fingers not wanting to be caught in your wrath even though you were the smallest you attitude made up for it. You ponder on what they meant by “you come in waves.” You feel dumb to be thinking like this because “you keep going through the motions, but yall needed long again you should be numb to these emotions.” Before you can think any further your phone dings again.

my nonchalant baby 💗:

you’re welcome <3!

my princess 🤍:

We’re not lying though, you flood our memory just like an ocean.

You:

I can say the same thing.

my nonchalant baby 💗 and my princess 🤍: hearted “I can say the same thing.”

You:

I know this isn’t fair of me to say but I miss you guys.

Your phone rang shortly after and you picked up the FaceTime. It was awkward at first but you guys talked for hours. The day passes by in a blur and that night you go to sleep with a warm smile on your face. The days continued on like this, little gifts sat outside doors with stories posted until one night you guys got back from a date, well it was a symbol for restarting but to you it was a date. They let you come back with them and as the three of you lay in bed, small talk emerged. Paige whispered “I’m glad to have you back in my arms.” And Azzi didn’t help “You were our missing puzzle piece.” You couldn’t reply just smiled and said “Sleep was never the same without you guys.” They smile and the three of you snuggle together. That night “I love you” were muttered as if the hurt never happened.

When you awoke the nature of your relationship returned you being squished between the taller girls, shared quiet kisses in the morning and getting ready together like it was second nature. The weeks went on the three of you hanging out more frequently, stories posted. One night when you went to bed at theirs again, (well all of yours because they wouldn’t let you call it theirs because it was the home you always had for the past three years). they posted a picture of you snuggled between them on both of their accounts. Knowing one thing that they wouldn’t let you feel like a secret ever again. And the only thing that you known was that their love came in WAVES, some soft, some heavy, but all of them being waves of love.

And just like that, when one picture tore you apart another one bought you guys closer together than before.

———————————————————————————

authors note: see what i did there :) all the lyrics are in red to the song “Waves.” This story is NOT proofread so please forgive me.

#azzi fudd x reader #paige x azzi x reader #pazzi x oc #azzi x reader #azzi fudd x y/n #uconn x reader #azzi fudd x fem #azzi fudd oneshot #paige bueckers x reader #paige x azzi #paige x reader #uconn wbb #wbb #pazzi fics

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stargirlygirl · 1 day ago

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no, you can't buy my ranch

rancher!sylus x spoiled!city girl!reader

⭑.ᐟ part six: betrayal and gambling

summary: sylus's lawyer shoes up at your property and informs you it's been seized under the common law.

contains: angst, swearing, mentions of gambling, you're a daddy's girl btw, blood/knife metaphor (in case you're a bit squeamish, it's not even graphic in my opinion but just in case), 3.7k words

BEFORE we officially begin, I forgot to attach these messages at the end of part five. SO pretend that you read them last chapter, okay?

It’s been about a month since you moved to this tiny town, and you have to admit, you’re starting to like it.

Yes, the town gossip is incessant, the supermarket is way too small and closes way too early, and you have only one friend (if you could call him that). But you’re beginning to enjoy waking up with green plains right out your window. The country air is fresh and invigorating, and the sun is bright. Well, the sun is bright everywhere. But here, its golden hues mould into the landscape.

You’ve come to revel in the early quiet of the morn. And working from home is so nice. You can pee whenever you want, wear whatever you want (the last time you put on a bra was when you went grocery shopping a few days ago), and you can be as loud as you want. There’s no way Mr Qin, who you’ve learnt owns the entire street next to your own empty one, could hear you scream across those acres.

Why would you be screaming, you might ask? Well, screaming is a wonderful form of emotional release. Any time you feel frustrated at your shit wifi, you can scream and shout at it and then carry on. Like road rage, you have the space to aurally express yourself before getting it together to solve the problem.

Another bonus of living in the countryside, alluded to previously, is your neighbour. You’ve been seeing each other once or twice a week and texting when something comes up. Heat flares in your cheeks whenever your phone dings, your stuttering heart hopeful it’s a message from him. When it is, you’re rejoicing and reading his message, giddy. When it isn’t, you berate yourself for becoming all excited.

You shouldn’t feel like this about the man who’s trying to purchase your father’s property. However, you can’t help but send him the flirtiest texts that make you throw your phone and squeal at your audacity. Better yet, Sylus always matches your texts with his signature condescension.

After all of this time, you realise how severely you’ve fallen victim to his haughty charm.

You’re currently taking a break from work. Your next Zoom meeting is at 2pm, so you’ve got about an hour to kill. You’ve set yourself up on the couch with a cup of tea and a good book. It’s one of the books Sylus bought for you; his recommendation, of course. You didn’t think the ranch overlord would have a taste for the classics. Oh, how wrong that assumption was.

Flicking the page of The Bacchae, a firm knock resounds at your front door. Huffing, you place your bookmark and leave the tragedy on the coffee table. While walking to the door, you allow your mind to wander. What if it’s Sylus? But wouldn’t Sy text you first? And that knock didn’t sound like his.

Your mood dampened, you unlock the door and pull it open with all of your strength. Resting against it, you gaze at the man in a suit before you with surprise.

“You… You’re that real estate agent,” you reminisce. The man shakes his head.

In monotone, he states, “I am Mr Qin’s lawyer, and I am here to inform you, Miss L/n, that your property has been seized under the common law.” You stare at him for a moment, processing his words. Sylus’s lawyer? Property seized?

“What? You-you said you were a real estate agent?” You ask confused.

Clearing his throat, the lawyer repeats, “A slip of the tongue, I can assure you. Moving on, your father no longer has legal ownership of this property, Miss L/n. As such, you are required to move out within 14 days of this notice.”

“You…” Can’t do that, is what you want to say. But there’s a lump in your throat, preventing any additional words from journeying out of your lips. Your eyes snap to the sudden sound coming down the driveway. Tires scattering the dirt and buzzing engine; a black pick-up truck comes into view.

“Sylus,” you whisper and pray that his lawyer—well, his self-proclaimed lawyer—didn’t hear you.

Stepping past the threshold, the heavy front door slams shut behind you. You step anxiously past the man in a suit, watching as Sylus carelessly pulls over. Shutting the engine off, he jogs up to your porch. His button-up has been traded for a black tank, and jeans for a pair of gym shorts. Sweat drips down his muscles, a sight that would make you feral when ovulating. He’s slightly out of breath as he conquers the few porch steps, like he’s just been boxing or something.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, sweetie,” Sylus murmurs, coming to stand in front of you.

Staring up at him, you sigh in relief, “Thank God you’re here, Sy. This man—” Twisting back, you gesture to the lawyer— “was saying that-that I have to move out.” The rancher shoots his lawyer a dangerous glare. He was supposed to arrive first and gently break the news to you. Not the other way around.

“Sy,” you start. Reaching out, you grab his clammy hand and pull it toward you.

“What’s going on?” You continue, anxiety lacing your voice. It’s not the gorgeous man in front of you, in his slutty shorts, that’s making your heart race. No, it’s that he hasn’t denied the other man’s claim.

“Is he your lawyer?” You press on. Sylus’s lips purse slightly, the vein in his jaw fluttering with the tension there.

He finally sighs— the sound devoid of his usual charisma, “Yes. Albert, here is my lawyer.” You shake your head in disbelief. Because if Albert is truly Sylus’s lawyer, then what of Albert’s other declarations?

The rancher mumbles remorsefully, “Wasn’t supposed to happen like this, kitten.”

“What? What wasn’t supposed to happen like this?” You spit out, your anger swelling and something else, too. A kind of sadness stinging at the edges. Sylus squeezes your hand before directing his attention to his lawyer.

“You were supposed to wait for my arrival,” he says sternly.

The lawyer counters, “You were taking your sweet time, Mr Qin. I figured you’d be here any minute, and look at that, you are.” You can almost hear Sylus’s teeth grinding with how hard he’s clenching his jaw.

He scoffs, “Right. And how much did you divulge in my absence?”

Albert shrugs, “The necessities.”

Before Sylus can bite his lawyer’s head off, you interrupt with, “He said that my dad no longer owns this property, and that I have to move out.” You tug on Sylus’s hand, drawing his narrowed eyes back to you.

Emotion thickens your voice as you guess, “I don’t understand. Did you buy my ranch without telling me?”

Albert answers before Sylus can, “By adverse possession, Mr Qin has been granted full legal ownership of your father’s property, Miss L/n.”

“Adverse possession?” You repeat, the phrase, foreign, on your tongue.

“Precisely. Mr Qin has been exclusively maintaining this property for the past ten years. Through filing a lawsuit under the state’s adverse possession law, Mr Qin has proved his continuous and notorious claim to the property, and as such, has been granted legal ownership,” the lawyer explains. Your heart drops to your stomach as you glance between the two men. You don’t know who to be more furious at. Actually, you do.

“What the fuck?!” You wiggle your hand out of Sylus’s tightening grip.

Glaring up at him, you say heatedly, “That’s not true! My father… There have been tenants living here within the past two years. You can’t claim exclusive ownership of my fucking ranch!”

“Actually, Miss L/n, this property has been unoccupied since its purchase twelve years ago,” Albert asserts.

“Bullshit,” you claim.

He goes on with, “Adverse possession is also referred to as Squatter’s rights, if that helps clear up your confusion.” Oh, that makes it so much worse.

“Squatter’s rights?! Squat—what squatter’s rights? This man is fucking loaded! You-you mean to tell me he’s been squatting in my property, you fucking crazy bast—”

“Sweetie,” Sylus cuts you off. The vibrancy in his eyes is gone, dulled by guilt.

Glancing at Albert, he orders dismissively, “We’ll speak about this later. You can leave now.” With a curt nod, the lawyer disappears down the steps and hops into a small white car you didn’t even notice was pulled over nearby. All is quiet between you and Sylus as the other man drives away. Only the chirping birds, oblivious to the daunting news you’ve just received, dare to barge in on your brooding.

You break the almost silence with, “I can’t believe this! You—”

“Kitten—”

“NO! Don’t-don’t ‘kitten’ me, Sylus! You fucked me over!” You shout, all of the desire and excitement you had been feeling for him, fleeting. All that’s left right now is bitterness gnawing at your insides, eating you up like you drank acid. You release this strangled sound, somewhere between a derisive chuckle and a sob. You feel the wetness rolling down your cheeks; tears.

The rancher who had been your sole friend (and love interest) gazes at you, pained.

He says abashedly, “You weren’t supposed to know.” You choke on your tears, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself as you step back. Seeing your sudden distance drives a knife into Sylus’s chest. Blood spews from the wound as he reaches for you, but you shake your head and take another step back.

“No,” you mumble, your eyes downcast.

The rancher swallows his agony as he explains, “The court was supposed to make a decision next month. I was hoping in that time, we would have grown closer.”

“Closer?!” You snap furiously. “Closer,” you repeat, the word now subdued and overrun by barely contained pain. “And then what? You-you would j-just betray me. Like you-you’ve done n-now,” you sob. Betrayal. That’s what you’re feeling. A mere hour ago, you were a bundle of joy. Content, safe, and looking forward to the future. But now, all of that has been clawed out of your hands and burned to ashes. Crisp is the sorrow in your tummy. That sharpness of a concealed dagger plunged deep inside.

“It would have made the transition easier,” he mutters.

“For whom, Sylus?!” You cry out. You hate it when he sees you like this, all upset and crying. Why are you always crying when you’re with him? Is love like supposed to hurt this much?

He sighs, “For both of us…” Kitten. “You would be willing to sell. I’d ask you to move in with me.”

“You’re not my boyfriend!” You wail. Such a statement was meant to hurt him, but it only reinforces the reality you wish were a fantasy.

“I could be,” Sylus murmurs. Not the most appropriate time to shoot his shot, but the rancher fears he might not have another chance.

“I can protect you, darling. Give you everything you could ever want. You’d have a comfortable life. All you have to do is say yes.” You can’t believe what he’s saying right now. Asking you out on your front porch, after seizing ownership of your property. His words cause you to cry harder, your face scrunched up all ugly as you feel the pain cutting straight through your heart.

Sylus steps forward and reaches for you once more, almost pleading, “Let me take care of you.” His deep voice, typically cocky, is now overwhelmed by desperation. That yearning breathlessness. You would have folded right then and there for him in different circumstances. Right now, you can’t.

Shaking your head, you gaze up at him with blurry vision. Your sadness transforms the handsome rancher into a tall blob of colour. Oh, how you crave to be in his arms. To retreat into his comfort. Defined arms embracing you tightly, and his broad chest, providing the perfect pillow to rest your weary head on.

It’s thoughts like these that drive you to dart to your front door and scamper inside. It thuds shut, and you immediately secure the locks. You dash to your living room and collapse on the couch, the cushions becoming your teddy bear. But they aren’t as hot or soothing as the silver-haired man outside.

Sylus stands there, his hand still outstretched, looking at the place where you were a minute ago. It dawns upon him how royally he’s just fucked up. He’s been working for ten years to own this property. But in one month, all of those ambitions have been worn down to nothing.

You’re the reason he started reconsidering his lawsuit. Of course, he couldn’t just withdraw his case. But now that he’s won, Sylus isn’t sure if the cost was worth the reward.

In his arrogance, he thought he could have both you and your land. And in his spiralling mind, he still thinks he can.

…˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚…

Time elapses as you cry on the sofa. It’s heart-wrenching and raw, with you mumbling to yourself every minute, trying to make sense of what just occurred. The sun is still high in the sky, harshly glaring down upon the shrubland, when you slither off the couch and head to the window. Pulling back the lacy curtains, you peek at your front porch. Empty, no Sylus in sight. Gazing at the dirt trail, you see no black pick-up truck resting on the side.

He’s gone.

You choke on your sobs while plopping back down on the couch. Snatching your phone, you take the only reasonable course of action and dial your father’s number. It rings once… twice.. a third—

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m driving at the moment. What is it?” His voice is like a popsicle on a hot summer’s day.

You sniffle, “Daddy.” The line is quiet for a moment as you pluck a couple of tissues and pat your eyes.

“What happened, sugar plum?” He asks, an urgency underscoring his tone.

Dropping your hand in your lap, you explain, “This-this man came t-to my house an-and he said t-that it did-didn’t belong t-to you anymore.”

“Oh, honey,” your father sighs. In the background, you can hear the indicator flicking.

“Dad, what-what’s gonna happen? Why-why did Sylus take y-your house?” Your small voice cracks on the silver-haired man’s name. He’s the last person you want to think about right now. But funnily enough, he’s the only one on your mind. You hear the chinking of keys as your father throws them on the dash. You assume he’s pulled over.

He exhales tiredly, “Look, love bug, let’s not do this over the phone, okay? I’m on the way to you right now. And when I get there, I’ll explain everything.” A loud cry rises in your throat and rips through; automatically, your hand flies to your mouth to cover it.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise, pumpkin pie,” your father reassures you.

You speak through your fresh wave of tears, “His-his lawyer s-said the house was-was n-never occupied. S’that true?” You’re on the edge of the couch cushion, expecting an answer from your father.

But as the static-silence continues, you murmur, “So it’s true.”

“As I said, my sweetest dew drop, I’ll explain when I get there, alright? I should reach by nightfall,” your father finally responds. You want to tell him that he better explain, that he owes it to you, but all you manage is a measly “M’kay” before saying your ‘I love you’s and hanging up.

Checking the time, you predict you’ve got another two to three hours before your father arrives. In that time, you sob into your couch once more, like a distraught Disney princess who’s not allowed to see the prince ever again.

For a moment, you picture it. Prince Sylus kept away from you by some opposing force in your story. But the image makes you weep harder. Sylus is no prince in your books. If anything, he’d be the dragon guarding your tower.

Ruthless and selfish.

You question whether those moments you two spent together, the kiss you shared by the lake, were genuine. Or was he just trying to get close to you so he could soften the blow? On the contrary, getting close to you has made this sudden change all the more devastating.

You’re still curled up in a ball on your tear-stained sofa when the locks turn and the front door is pushed open. Moments later, your father strolls into the living room with an overnight bag in hand. Like he knew. Like he planned this visit.

Dropping it on a nearby armchair, your dad comes over to you with his arms spread wide.

“Oh, sweetie pie,” he says lovingly before embracing you in a warm hug. And just when you thought you were finished crying, more tears spill over your waterline.

He pats your back and coos softly, “It’s alright, darling. We’re gonna figure this out, okay?” You wail in his arms like a child who just dropped their favourite plushie in the toilet. Ugly and utterly distraught, your father holds you. He has to, because he’s the one responsible for your grief.

Sitting back, you choke out, “Daddy, what-what happened?” He averts his eyes for a moment, feigning interest in the book you were reading earlier as he gathers his thoughts.

At last, he admits, “It’s complicated, poo bear—”

“Please, just tell me!” You sob, smearing your snotty nose on your forearm for the nth time today.

His shoulders slump as he confesses, “I bought this house twelve years ago using my savings, yeah? And I intended to put it up for rent, but I got busy, you were having a hard time at school, and things, you know, were getting a bit rough between your mom and me—”

“Hurry up, Dad,” you interject while throwing your tissue down beside you.

He sighs, “I picked up an old habit, okay? And it was going really well for a while. But then things dropped off. The stock market was going down, too. I was losin’ a lot of money, so I pulled out. I was gonna put the house up for rent when I found out the man next door had been trespassing. And then he filed a lawsuit, and well, the rest is history.” You shake your head, still confused about one detail.

“What habit, Daddy?” You ask nervously. Again, he avoids your sharp gaze.

“What habit?!” You cry out. Slowly, your father looks at you, his eyes glassier than before.

“Gambling,” he mutters. You feel like a hole has been punched through your chest. Gambling. An addiction. One that ruins lives, like your father’s. But it doesn’t stop there. Like a monster, it thrashes when attempting to be tamed, lashing out at anyone, even those closest to the person most affected.

“Is that where you were every Friday night? At the Casino?” You choke out, your anger flaring for the second time today.

“Honey—”

“Is that where my college tuition came from? Your little ol’ habit?!” You don’t want to do this. You’ve pushed someone very important away from you today, and you don’t want to do the same to your father. You should be seeking solidarity right now, but you’re struggling to. You can’t suppress the indignation bubbling to the surface.

Your father murmurs, “Yes, okay? Yes, I was playing the pokies every Friday night. I was on a winning streak, baby. And for the first time, it lasted.”

“Until it didn’t?” You clarify, the words dripping with venom as you spit them out. He nods.

“Does Mom know?” He shakes his head, panic flickering across his lived-in features.

Your dad asks, “You’re not gonna tell her, are you?”

You scoff tearfully, “Why should I? S’not my burden to bear.” That seems to ease the mounting tension in his body, if only superficially.

“Are you still—”

“No. I had to stop, angel. I’ve been clean for the past year or so,” he insists. You nod, rubbing your red nose as more snot threatens to spill out.

Your father apologises, “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, peanut. I know I should have. N’ I should have told your mother, too, but… Look, it’s gonna be alright, okay? You can move back in with us until you get back on your feet, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you agree, completely exhausted. The day’s emotional weight is catching up to you, and your body feels heavy. The pieces fall into line.

“S’that how you got here so fast? Knew I’d be kicked out,” you murmur. Your father sighs while nodding.

“B-but, then why’d you make me move in if the property was gonna-gonna go to…” You trail off, unable to say his name.

Your father rubs the back of his neck as he explains, “I thought it might deter him or affect the lawsuit, but it did neither.” So that’s it. You were a rat in an experiment. A test subject for a failed hypothesis.

“I’m sorry, my little bean,” your dad apologises once more. You hum in acknowledgement, too choked up to answer with words.

After a beat of silence, your father suggests, “Why don’t you go shower or take a nap? I’ll make us dinner.” Nodding, you trudge off to the bathroom.

After showering, you gaze at yourself in the mirror. Staring back at you is you, but five times puffier. You look like you’ve had an allergic reaction with how swollen your eyes and lips are.

When you’re finally ready— skin moisturised and new jammies on— you head downstairs. As soon as you enter the kitchen, the smell of your dad’s signature dish hits your nostrils.

You help him set the table, and for the first time in a long time, you two share a meal. It’s quiet between you, tonight’s admissions plunging the household into clinking plates and hushed manners.

And when you lie down in bed, all cosy with your actual teddy bear, your nose is still blocked up and your cheeks feel hot. You toss and turn, unable to will away those soul-stealing eyes. How sad and dim they looked.

He haunts you, like he did after you first met. Somewhere, between the gloomy stars and broken AC, you manage to drift off into a dreamless slumber.

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star girl's final words: BIGGEST THANK YOU to @tragicvictoriantears for giving me the idea of adverse possession!!!!! this story wouldn't be what it is without you, nat! also... did we like? how're we feeling? i really liked this one ngl. my fav so far is part two, but i like the angst of this part.

APOLOGIES IN ADVANCE if part seven doesn't come out within the next week because i haven't started it yet and i have assignments due😃

taglist - @stxrrielle, @peachystea, @harbingers-lullaby, @grlyeetswrld, @multisstuff, @heartyluv, @cuntphoric-main, @sealoftime, @beesin03, @tragicvictoriantears, @bananasquash, @sylusgworl

#★’s works #love and deepspace #sylus angst #sylus x reader #cowboy sylus #lads sylus #sylus qin x reader #lnds sylus #qin che x reader

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totallynottinsel · 3 days ago

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🪻 The Secrets of Dwarf Ears

During their quiet vacation at Bag End, Bilbo realizes just how fascinated he is with Thorin's ears, and his piercings.

@acorn-and-oakleaves prompt: "The worst part is you didn't even notice."

TW: minor descriptions of, yk, piercing. But nothing crazy!

"Enjoy the bath?" Bilbo peered up from his book.

"I did. Though I could have done with less flower petals." Admitted Thorin as he walked along the end of the bed, running a comb through his damp hair. The petals were hardly the worst part, not after the bubbly wash that had him smelling of colorful florals he couldn't even name. He preferred it much more on Bilbo than himself.

"Oh, come now, it's good for you."

Thorin raised a brow to the hobbit. "How so?"

Bilbo's lips turned downward as he searched for his answer, now truly wondering why exactly he had those petals in the first place. "It just... is. And use a towel for goodness sake, your dripping all over the carpet!" He waggled the book in his hand to emphasize the severity of a soggy carpet.

Thorin had done so and slipped on his clothes for the night, wrapping his hair back in a low ponytail and making his way into bed. He sat shoulder to shoulder beside Bilbo, peering over to catch a glimpse of what he'd been so keenly reading for hours. The hobbit waved a hand at him to cease his snooping. "You've had your nose in that book all day."

"I've been reading up on crochet techniques, it's very handy when---" When Bilbo had looked up again from his pages, he'd just about dropped the book entirely at the sight he was met with. Thorin stared back at him in his usual radiance, though what caught Bilbo's eye were the small silver rings lining his ears. His ears. Bilbo hardly recalled spotting them on their journey, nor did he have the time to more often than not. Not to mention they were skillfully hidden behind his hair---which had been another thing in its own, as he rarely saw the dwarf styled differently. Yet upon seeing, he was absolutely taken by them. They were larger compared to hobbit's, more rounded and blunt and irresistibly endearing.

"Is something the matter?" Thorin asked, showing a face of natural concern as his partner blankly eyed him. He began to wonder if questioning that book of his offended him greatly somehow.

"Hm? Ah, no, no. It's only... your ears." He croaked, though it didn't seem to help Thorin understand what he was on about.

"What of them?"

"Well I... I've never seen them. At least not up close. And the---those rings? Can't say I've come across those either."

"Do those in the Shire not share the practice of bearing them?" Thorin didn't sound all too surprised, in fact---he was fairly amused by Bilbo's wide-eyed intrigue.

"Oh, no, certainly not." Bilbo shook his head, laughing at the mere image of his high-strung kin donning anything of the sort. "You'd never catch a hobbit wearing something like those. The thought alone would scare most to near death, I'd say."

"You are not like most hobbits."

"Suppose I'm not. May I... have a closer look at them? If that would be appropriate, of course." He quired, then feeling a sudden rush of giddiness strike him when Thorin nodded for him to continue. He snapped his book shut, placing it to the bedside table and inching himself closer to the other. He first laid a gentle finger over the cascading set of rings, which had felt like any he had touched before. Though some of them felt slightly bumpy, or jagged like a stone; upon further inspection, he spotted small and intricate gemstones settled inside.

"Do they hurt? Once you put them in, that is." He asked, turning his head to get a better look of the hollowed out spaces in his ear that allowed the silver hoops to lay. A quick chill ran down his back, surely knowing it must have been a painful ordeal.

"The first few, yes. I settled with the discomfort." Thorin explained. "They can be rather irksome to tend to, though you must to keep them from infection."

"Infection?" Bilbo teetered away, as if something contagious had been sprinkled in the air.

"Fíli and Kíli wish to have their own. I'm certain they would lose a whole ear each."

"They may have already. Now, wait a moment---when did you get these?"

Thorin cracked a telling smile. "Not long after I recovered."

"When you---" Bilbo's mouth dropped. "But that was months ago! Surely I... how--?"

"The worst part is you didn't even notice." Thorin teased, receiving a light smack to the shoulder. He caught Bilbo's hand as it fell back to his lap, his fingers mingling with the hobbits. "If I had known you would be so interested, I would have shown you them sooner."

"I blame this hair of yours," Bilbo took his free hand to tuck a few wayward strands of the dwarf's locks back behind his ear. As his fingers skimmed over, he softly brushed the top of the ear and the blank set of skin. "What of the other?"

"Not as many." Thorin turned his head to the side, where he only had a pair of two rings near the bottom. Bilbo simply frowned; even more he had failed to notice!

"Right, any more I should know of?"

"I'm afraid you will have to find out on your own."

"You are exhausting." Bilbo reached for the night table, being stopped soon enough by a hold of larger arms over his waist and under the open space between his back and the pillows---seizing him in a lazy embrace he welcomed the sudden warmth of.

"Must I compete for your attention against a book?" Thorin murmured as he leaned his head to the crook of his neck, leaving a small kiss there along with one to the hobbits bare ear.

"A book doesn't tease me nearly as often."

Thorin hummed a sound of acknowledgement, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt the weight of Bilbo's head rest along his. It was then the question struck him, now elated with curiosity as the other had prior. "Would you consider having one of your own?"

"Have one of what?"

"The earrings."

Bilbo laughed. "I don't believe I'd look as flattering with one. Let's say, if all my goods from here make it to Erebor without a scratch, I'll get myself one!" Like that would ever happen, of course. How silly. He thought.

------

Erebor

"Ah, is the needle supposed to be that large?"

"Ey, this is the small!"

"The---oh my days," Bilbo swallowed hard, blowing out some air as he kept his eyes to the floor. Absolutely any single sight but that horrendous pointy stick.

"You do not have to do this," Thorin placed a hand to his shoulder, brows furrowing with visible concern. "In fact, I would have advised against it if I had known it would cause you distress."

"No, no! I will not back out now. I said I would do this, and I am a hobbit of my word." He proclaimed. "At least for the next few minutes."

"Bilbo..."

"I know what I'm getting myself into, Thorin. I'll be fine."

"Well, let's get to it then, shall we?" Said the dwarf in charge of the process. "I want ye' to take a deep breath in, then slowly out as the needle gets through, ye' see?"

"Yes, yes."

"I'll count to five. One---"

"No, no counting if you'll---"

"Anddd five!"

And that had been the day Bilbo Baggins, the first hobbit to date---had himself an earring, as they called it. Next thing he knew, he'd be wearing himself a tattoo to match. He was certain Thorin didn't have any of those to note, thankfully.

He didn't, right?

#the hobbit #bagginshield #shire summer festival #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #thorin x bilbo #fic prompt #was having a convo with a mutual about thorin's ears not getting enough love compared to Bilbo!!#so thats the inspo lol #also dwarf piercings YEAHYEAHUEHAUEHAUEAH #short fiction #tattoo sequel?????#perhaps

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puffins-muffins · 16 hours ago

Text

Secondhand Heart - Part 1

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Teacher Reader Word Count: 2800 Summary: You came to Charming chasing a fresh start, needing space from a life that no longer fit. Breaking down on a backroad in the middle of a storm wasn’t part of the plan; and neither was Jax Teller. But sometimes, the beginning of something good comes disguised as bad luck. Warnings: 18+!!! minors DNI; light emotional tension; slow-burn beginnings; canon-divergent, eventual smut A/N: Ahhh, I'm excited to debut these two sweet beans 🥹 I hope you end up loving them as much as I do! Thank you for reading and following. ✨All feedback (reblogs, comments, likes) is much appreciated and encouraged!!✨ Enjoy babes! 🩷

The rain had come out of nowhere, thunder rolling in like a warning you didn’t hear in time. You hadn’t expected a storm, or to get caught in it on a backroad with a truck that had a flair for the dramatics at the worst possible times.

You stood beside your old pickup, drenched head to toe, hood propped open – steam curling into the air as the engine hissed in protest. You'd been out running errands, a teacher-supply run and last-minute organizing before your new teaching job started at Charming Elementary.

You hadn’t thought twice about your phone being nearly dead when you left the house, because of course you hadn’t – too distracted by all the recent changes in your life. But now, hours later, stranded on the side of a mostly empty road with no charger and no help, it felt like a cosmic joke.

As you contemplated your next move, deciding whether to start walking toward town or wait it out a little longer on the side of the road, you caught the low growl of a motorcycle rising in the distance.

You didn’t even glance in its direction at first, convinced whoever it was would pass you by like the last couple of motorists had. But then the engine slowed, the sound dropping to a steady idle, gravel crunching under the tires as the bike pulled off behind your truck.

Instinct jolted you upright, curiosity sparking just as the rider cut the engine and swung off the seat. He moved like someone who took his time with everything, like the world bent around his pace.

He was tall and lean, the black zip-up hoodie he wore pulled snug against his body, sleeves pushed down to his wrists, the zipper tugged about halfway up. Beneath it, a plain white tee clung slightly to his chest, still faintly damp from the humidity and earlier rain, outlining solid lines of muscle underneath – the dark jeans he had on sat low on his hips, fitting him entirely too well.

The white sneakers caught your eye next. Not new, but intentionally clean in a way that made you blink, because bikers didn’t wear sneakers. Not the way you imagined they did, at least.

You pushed off the side of the truck, standing a little straighter, needing a better look at this man.

He was devastating.

With a smooth sweep of his hand, he pulled off his helmet, short blond hair sticking slightly to his forehead, still damp from the ride – giving him a look that was almost boyish. His jaw was sharply carved, dusted with just enough blonde scruff to soften the hard lines, and his mouth looked like it had forgotten how to smile.

He started towards you, unhurriedly, and the closer he got, the heavier the already humid air seemed to grow. When he was about halfway, he reached up and pulled off his sunglasses, hooking them casually into the collar of his shirt.

That’s when you catch his eyes, making your heart stutter.

Startlingly blue, clear, and cutting, like they belonged to someone who had seen too much and learned too young how to carry it all. There was a weight in the way he moved, a tension that lived across his shoulders even when his body seemed relaxed.

And when he looked at you, his gaze wasn’t harsh. It was steady and quiet, guarded in a way that made something inside of you ache, made you wonder how long it had been since someone asked how he was and really meant it.

“Trouble with your truck?” he asked, gesturing towards the popped hood with a nod, his voice raspy and a little worn.

You glanced over your shoulder to follow his gaze before you turned back to face him. “Yeah,” you sighed with a tired huff. “She’s a bit of a drama queen. Picked a real convenient time to have a meltdown.”

He didn’t smile, but you did catch a flicker of amusement that crossed his face before it vanished just as quickly.

“Mind if I take a look?”

You hesitated briefly, logic telling you to be careful – alone, stranded, a stranger stopping to help. But there was something about him and the way he carried himself that didn’t spark fear – only a certainty that you were safe in his presence.

You nodded with a shrug. “Sure. I’m pretty much out of options.”

Walking past you toward the front of your truck, he caught a real look at you, and it stopped him in his tracks. You were soaked through, t-shirt plastered to your body, jean shorts heavy with rain, your worn sneakers littered up with dirt and mud.

You shouldn’t have looked beautiful like this, but somehow, you did.

And he hated the way it affected him.

A sharp, unwelcome tug low in his gut, as if some part of him, a part he thought had burned out – still remembered what it felt like to want something that wasn’t ruined. Muttering a quiet "Jesus" under his breath, he raked a hand through his hair, hoping he could scrub the thought away and pretend that you hadn’t already gotten under his skin.

Reaching for the zipper of his hoodie, he tugged it down, the metal teeth parting with a faint rasp. The hoodie slid off his shoulders easily, the fabric catching for just a second before falling away, revealing the black ink that wrapped around his right forearm, bold against his sun-worn skin.

Your eyes caught on the tattoo, tracing the lines before drifting to the way the veins flexed faintly beneath it, the subtle shift of muscle under skin. And his hands, long-fingered, battered, and ringed with silver that looked scuffed from a life you knew nothing about.

He held the hoodie out toward you, eyes steady, but less guarded than before. There was suddenly a quiet kindness behind his sharp blues that had heat rising to your cheeks.

“Here,” he mumbled.

You hesitated for a breath, unsure if you should take it, but then he pushed it a little closer, gently insistent.

“At least it’s dry,” he added softly, with a small shrug.

You glanced down at yourself then, finally registering how wet your clothes still were, the cling of damp fabric against your skin, the discomfort you tried to ignore. But the way he was watching you made something flutter low in your chest. His expression wasn’t pity or amusement, he only looked like he wanted to help and wasn’t sure why.

Swallowing, you took it from him, your fingers brushing his – calloused but careful, igniting a spark you hadn’t braced for. You slipped your arms into it quickly, the fabric heavy and comforting, swallowing you up in his scent of faint smoke, fresh soap, and the dry warmth of sun-warmed fabric and wind.

He turned away before he could think too hard about how natural you looked wrapped up in something of his.

You stayed close as he bent over the open hood, the emergency tool kit you dragged out sitting uselessly at your feet. You weren’t even sure what half the tools were for, only that your dad always kept one with him.

His knuckles were scarred, the veins flexing faintly beneath his skin every time he reached deeper into the engine. You studied the way his hands moved with a kind of easy confidence that could only come from someone who knew machines.

You got a better look at the rings he wore now – one shaped like a skull, the edges worn smooth with time. The others were thicker, squared off with the word SONS carved deep into the metal. They looked permanent and heavy, more than just jewelry, like they meant something you didn’t understand yet.

One by one, he slid them off, placing them into the front pocket of his jeans, the motion was quick, like it was second nature to him before getting his hands dirty. You watched the way his fingers flexed afterward, a little looser without the weight, before he bent to grab a wrench from the tool kit at your feet and got right back to work under the hood.

The silence stretched, and the longer it went, the more your heart tripped over itself, stillness made your thoughts too loud. And now, standing next to him while he worked, it felt even worse. He didn’t seem bothered by it at all, working steadily, while you stood there practically vibrating with nerves. Maybe it was being surrounded by his scent, or just how goddamn handsome he was up close, but either way, keeping still felt impossible.

Shuffling your feet next to him, you searched for something to say because you’d never been great at letting the quiet linger for too long. "I swear this only happens when I’m alone," you grumbled, mostly to yourself. "Guess she decided I needed to be humbled today."

You expected him to ignore you, to stay locked in that easy silence. But you caught a smirk tugging at his mouth, quick and reluctant, like he hadn’t meant for you to see it.

He didn’t look at you, just reached deeper into the engine, musing quietly, "Looks like she did a hell of a job."

There was a dry, amused edge to it that made your cheeks warm, and before you could help it, a half laugh, half snort slipped out.

He paused briefly, cutting a quick glance at you from the corner of his eye and licked his lips. He adjusted something under the hood before adding, "Somehow, I don't think you’d have much trouble getting someone to stop."

You gave a short breath of laughter. “You’d be surprised.”

That made him glance back over his shoulder again, your eyes locking. Neither of you looked away, something unspoken tugged between you, quiet but undeniable. You both felt it, neither daring to break the moment.

A soft, shy smile tugged at your lips, and for a second, he thought to himself it was the prettiest thing he’d seen in a long time.

“I’m glad it was you.” You stated simply, but there was a glimmer in your eyes when you said it.

He froze, jaw ticking like there was something he wanted to say, but then he refocused on the engine, busying his hands like it might distract him from you.

More minutes passed, this time the quiet settled more comfortably between you. He adjusted his grip on the edge of the hood, then gave a small tip of his chin toward the cab. "Go ahead," he instructed. "Try her now."

You slid into the driver's seat at his request, the old vinyl creaking as you sank into the seat. Turning the key, you hoped like hell she'd start, but the engine gave a miserable cough before sputtering out again.

He stepped back in, shifting to the side where he could reach what he needed, half-hidden by the popped hood. "Alright," he muttered for you to hold off, bending down to fiddle with something deeper in the engine bay.

His hands made quick adjustments, a few rough tugs, the sharp clink of metal on metal and then he straightened up once again, wiping his palms down the thighs of his jeans. He stayed near the side, close enough that he could see you through the open space between the raised hood and the cab.

"One more time." he told you.

You nodded, your fingers tightening around the steering wheel, nerves buzzing. You turned the key again bracing for another letdown, the engine coughing once and then roaring to life with a deep, steady rumble that shook the whole frame.

A shocked laugh tumbled out of you, your hands clapping together, instinctive, and bright, pure excitement spilling over as you sat there blinking, wide-eyed and breathless, practically beaming at him.

"You're a miracle worker!" you exclaimed, grinning so big it hurt your cheeks. "Seriously! How did you even do that?"

His shoulders eased, the tension that seemed at home in his body softened under the weight of your excitement. There was a reluctant tug at the corner of his mouth, a real smile blooming across his face as he watched you light up over something so simple.

He shrugged, trying to play it off, "Good with my hands." The words slipped out easily, but they meant more than he intended.

And even though you were still riding the high of your truck finally starting, you caught it, the way the air between you shifted – charged and new.

You twisted the sleeves of his hoodie between your fingers, your grin shifting into something more playful. "Yeah," you stated, your voice sure. "That's... pretty evident."

The meaning in his words didn’t go unnoticed, your smile a little smugger now, giving you away completely.

Neither of you moved, but you saw the way his jaw flexed, biting the inside of his cheek, fighting back a grin he didn’t seem ready to let you see. His eyes dropped briefly to the ground, and a faint twitch of amusement flickered across his lips, betraying him before he masked it with a rough exhale.

Whatever was happening between you wasn’t just one-sided, and it scared the shit out of him.

He stepped forward, slamming the hood shut with a quick yank, the sound echoing through the air. You jumped a little in your seat, the vibration rattling through the truck, but your grin didn’t falter.

Grabbing the tool kit from where it sat near the front tire, he swung it up and over the side of the bed like it weighed nothing. Then he crossed back toward you, wiping the rest of the dirt on his jeans again.

He placed one hand lightly on the top of the doorframe, the other brushing against the open door, and you caught the silent cue. Wordlessly, you slid back into the cab while he eased the door shut behind you, carefully, sealing you safely inside.

You rolled the window down quickly, your words tumbling over themselves.

"Thank you! Seriously, thank you. You have no idea. I’ve been stuck here for over an hour and no one even slowed down, and my phone is dead, and then you…” You shook your head, still smiling wide, trying to catch your breath.

"You’re a lifesaver. Honestly. Total hero move."

You waited for him to say something back, but he just stood there looking at you, one hand still resting against the doorframe, his thumb dragging absently along the edge of it. There was something different in his eyes now, a glint that hadn’t been there before, curious – like he hadn’t been expecting you either.

"Glad I stopped," he admitted quietly, though it sounded like it cost him something to say out loud. “As long as you don’t live too far from here, she should get you home, but don’t push it.”

He tapped the windowsill lightly with the palm of his hand, a soft thud against the metal, then turned and started walking back toward his bike.

You watched him go, your heart kicking up again and then you remembered you were still wearing his hoodie.

Shoving the door open, you half climbed out, calling after him, "Wait! Your sweatshirt!"

He glanced back over his shoulder, waving it off casually, "Nah, don’t worry about it. You need it more than I do.”

You tried to insist, fumbling for the zipper, "No, really. I can give it back – "

He cut you off with a faint grin, nodding his chin toward the road like he was giving you a soft order. "My family runs a body shop in town. Teller-Morrow. Bring your truck in and we’ll get it fixed up for ya, darlin'."

Your stomach did a little somersault at the term, and you didn’t move, just watched as he strapped on his helmet and swung one leg easily over the bike. Before reaching for the handlebars, he slipped his glasses back on, his eyes never leaving yours, almost reluctant as he settled into the seat, leaving you pinned in place.

Right before he thumbed the starter, he shouted out, "Ask for Jax!"

The bike roared to life, cutting through the still afternoon air as he peeled off down the road, glancing back at you one last time.

Even as the landscape blurred past and the wind hit his face, he couldn’t shake the image of you standing there – damp, smiling, and wrapped in his clothing. For the first time in a long time, something in him felt a little less heavy.

You sat there for another moment, your heart thudding unevenly against your ribs, holding onto that last look, the sound of his name settling in your chest like something important.

Wrapped in his hoodie, breathing in the warm scent of him, you realized that maybe today hadn't been working against you after all.

tag-list: @laurfilijames

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller fic #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy #soa #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam characters #jax teller x fem!reader #secondhand heart

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