#maybe several flickering emotions

[callsigns-haze]

Lean off

This can be read before or after Lean on, or alone! It could perfectly serve as a one-shot!

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler returns to visit YN and their son, Noah, after a year. Upon arriving at YN's small apartment, Tyler immediately senses tension between them. YN is cold and distant, and Tyler soon discovers the reason—she had seen him on a recent livestream, where he had flirted with his crew member, Kate, and kissed her forehead. Although Tyler insists that it was harmless, YN's hurt is evident, as it reminds her of all the times he put his storm-chasing career above their family.

Warnings: Emotional Tension, Strong Language, Alcohol Use, Sexual Content, Family Conflict, Mature Themes.

Word count: 5,162

Tyler carefully turned the key in the lock, pushing the front door open as quietly as he could. It was well past midnight, and the house was bathed in darkness, save for the dim light spilling from the kitchen. He let out a weary sigh as he slipped off his shoes, the exhaustion of the long day of chasing tornadoes weighing heavily on him. He knew he was late—much later than he’d promised—but he hoped YN was still awake, maybe reading in bed or waiting for him with a flicker of anger, but nothing that couldn’t be smoothed over with an apology and a kiss.

As he moved further into the house, Tyler paused. There was a noise coming from the kitchen, a low rustling and the sound of something heavy being set down. Frowning, he quietly placed his bag on the floor and walked towards the kitchen, his heart sinking with each step. He reached the doorway and hesitated, something in the pit of his stomach warning him that this wasn’t just a late-night snack or YN waiting up for him.

Taking a deep breath, Tyler reached out and flicked the light switch, the kitchen flooding with brightness. His heart stopped at the sight that greeted him.

YN was standing by the counter, her face set in a mixture of anger and sadness. Around her were several open suitcases, partially packed with clothes, toiletries, and other belongings. Her hands were busy stuffing a few more items into a duffel bag, her movements sharp and determined.

“YN?” Tyler’s voice was tentative, almost pleading. “What… what’s going on? Where’s Noah?”

YN didn’t look up right away, her shoulders stiffening at the sound of his voice. “My brother took Noah to his place,” she finally said, her tone cold and distant. “I’m leaving, Tyler.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him momentarily breathless. “Leaving? What do you mean you’re leaving? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I don’t care what time it is,” YN snapped, her voice rising with anger. “I’m done, Tyler. I’m done waiting up for you, wondering if you’ll come home in one piece or if you’ll even bother coming home at all!”

Tyler shook his head, trying to make sense of what was happening. “YN, please… Let’s talk about this. I know I’m late, but it was a bad chase—”

“It’s always a bad chase!” YN shouted, cutting him off. “Every single time! You’re always late, always chasing after another storm, always putting that damn job before us! I’m tired, Tyler. I’m tired of being second to your obsession!”

Tyler’s own anger started to flare up, mixing with the guilt and fear churning in his gut. “You knew what you were getting into when we got together. This is what I do, YN. This is who I am!”

“But it’s not who I want to be anymore!” YN retorted, her voice breaking with emotion. “I used to love chasing with you, I did. But then we had Noah, and everything changed. I needed you to change with me, but you didn’t. You’re still out there, risking your life, and for what? A thrill? A rush? It’s not worth it, Tyler!”

“I do it for us!” Tyler argued, his voice loud and desperate. “I do it to provide for our family, to make sure Noah has everything he needs!”

“Don’t you dare make this about us!” YN’s eyes blazed with fury as she rounded on him, her hands clenched into fists. “You do it because you can’t let go! You’re addicted to the danger, to the chase, and you won’t admit it! You’ve put that before us time and time again, and I’m done! I’m not waiting around for you to come home in a body bag!”

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and years of built-up resentment. Tyler took a step closer, his voice softening. “YN, please… I love you. I love Noah. We can figure this out. Don’t go.”

But YN shook her head, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “It’s too late, Tyler. I can’t do this anymore. I’ve already lost you to those storms, and I’m not losing myself in the process.”

With that, she turned back to her packing, her movements hurried and desperate, as if she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

Tyler stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing. He felt like he was losing everything, and he didn’t know how to stop it. Desperation clawed at him as he reached out, grabbing her arm to stop her. “Don’t leave, YN. Please.”

But YN wrenched her arm away, her eyes filled with anger and pain. “Let go of me, Tyler,” she hissed, her voice shaking. “I’m done begging you to be here. I’m done.”

In her fury, she picked up the first thing she could find—a shoe—and hurled it at him. Tyler barely had time to react, ducking as it sailed past his head and hit the wall with a dull thud.

“YN, stop!” he pleaded, but she wasn’t listening. Her hands went to her finger, yanking off her wedding rings. With a choked sob, she threw them at him, the metal bands clattering to the floor at his feet.

Tyler stared down at the rings, his heart shattering at the sight. “YN…” he whispered, his voice filled with pain. “Please don’t do this.”

But YN was already turning away, her resolve firm as she zipped up the duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m leaving, Tyler. And this time, I’m not coming back.”

With that, she walked out of the kitchen, her footsteps echoing in the silent house. Tyler didn’t follow, too stunned to move, his heart breaking as he listened to the sound of the front door closing behind her.

He was left standing there, alone in the too-bright kitchen, staring down at the rings on the floor. The reality of what had just happened crashed over him like a wave, and he sank to his knees, the weight of his mistakes finally too much to bear.

----

One Year Later

Tyler stood outside the small apartment building, his hand hovering over the door for a moment before he finally knocked. It had been a year since YN had left him, a year filled with regrets and missed opportunities. The weight of his mistakes felt heavier than ever as he stood on the doorstep, trying to muster the courage to face the woman he had let down.

The door creaked open, and there she was—YN, her expression guarded and eyes tired. She looked at him with a mixture of surprise and wariness, a wall of coldness immediately going up between them. She didn’t look like the woman he used to know, not entirely. There was a hardness to her that hadn’t been there before, something born out of a year of managing on her own.

“Tyler,” she said flatly, not bothering to hide her displeasure. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see Noah,” Tyler replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ve missed him. I’ve missed you both.”

YN’s eyes flickered with something—maybe anger, maybe pain—but it quickly disappeared behind a mask of indifference. “He’s napping,” she said curtly, stepping aside to let him in. “You can wait inside if you want.”

Tyler walked into the small apartment, his eyes taking in the cramped space. The living room was tiny, cluttered with toys and toddler essentials, the furniture worn and mismatched. The kitchen was barely more than a corner with a small table and a few chairs, and the single bedroom door was slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of Noah’s crib.

He felt a pang of guilt as he realized just how much YN had sacrificed, how different this was from the life they had once planned together. The apartment was clean, but it was clear that money was tight and that YN was managing everything on her own.

“This place is… small,” Tyler said quietly, more to himself than to her.

“It’s all we need,” YN snapped, her tone icy. “I’m not living in some big house, Tyler. We’re fine here. We don’t need anything from you.”

The coldness in her voice cut through him like a knife. He had expected her to be angry, but this… this was something else. She wasn’t just angry—she was done with him. Tyler could see it in the way she held herself, in the way she avoided looking at him directly.

“YN, I know I messed up,” he began, trying to find the right words. “I know I haven’t been around, but I want to change that. I want to be here for Noah, to help out.”

YN crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze hard. “We’ve been fine without you, Tyler. I don’t need your help, and Noah doesn’t need a father who shows up when it’s convenient for him.”

Her words stung, and Tyler felt his defences rising. “That’s not fair, YN. I’m trying to make things right. I’m here now.”

“Too little, too late,” she shot back. “You weren’t here when it mattered, Tyler. You weren’t here when I needed you the most, and now you want to waltz back into our lives like nothing happened? It doesn’t work that way.”

Tyler swallowed hard, the guilt weighing heavy on him. “I know I screwed up, and I’m not asking for everything to be okay overnight. I just want a chance to be a father to Noah.”

At that moment, a small cry came from the bedroom, and YN turned away from him without another word. She walked down the short hallway and returned a moment later, holding a sleepy, tousled-haired Noah in her arms. The toddler blinked at Tyler with wide, curious eyes, still half-asleep but recognizing his father.

“Daddy?” Noah mumbled, reaching out a small hand towards him.

Tyler’s heart ached as he reached out to take Noah, holding him close. “Hey, buddy,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “I’ve missed you.”

YN watched them with a stony expression, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You’ve got a few minutes before I put him back down for his nap,” she said coldly. “Make the most of it.”

Tyler nodded, feeling the weight of her words. He sat down on the worn couch, bouncing Noah on his knee and listening to the boy’s sleepy babble. But all the while, he could feel YN’s eyes on him, the distance between them a tangible thing that no amount of time with Noah could bridge.

When Noah started to get drowsy again, YN walked over and took him from Tyler’s arms, cradling the boy close to her chest. “I’ll put him down now,” she said, her tone making it clear that Tyler’s time was up.

“YN, wait,” Tyler said, standing up. “I want to be here for you both. I want to help.”

YN paused in the doorway, not turning around to face him. “We don’t need you, Tyler,” she said quietly, the finality in her voice hitting him hard. “We’re doing just fine on our own.”

She walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, leaving Tyler standing alone in the small, silent living room. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, and Tyler knew that he had a long way to go if he ever wanted to be a part of their lives again.

But for now, all he could do was leave, the coldness of YN’s rejection echoing in his mind as he walked out of the apartment and into the night.

----

One Year Later

Tyler stood outside YN’s apartment, feeling the familiar mix of anticipation and anxiety that always accompanied these visits. It had been another year since the last time he saw Noah, and the memory of YN’s cold words still lingered in his mind. He had tried to do better since then, tried to keep in touch and be more present, but the distance between them remained. Still, he couldn’t stay away, not when Noah was involved.

He knocked on the door, and after a moment, YN opened it. Her expression was unreadable, but there was no immediate anger or coldness, which felt like a small victory. She looked a little softer, a little more tired, but still had that guarded look about her.

“Tyler,” she greeted, stepping back to let him in. “Noah’s not here. He’s with my brother for the weekend.”

Tyler’s heart sank a little at the news, but he nodded. “That’s okay. I… I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

YN gave him a small, almost reluctant smile. “I’m fine. Come in. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure,” Tyler said, stepping inside. The apartment hadn’t changed much, still small and modest, but it was clear that YN had made it as comfortable as she could. He followed her into the kitchen, where she pulled a bottle of wine from the cabinet and poured them each a glass.

Tyler sat at the small kitchen table, the wine glass cool in his hand as he took a sip. The rich, dark liquid swirled in his mouth, its warmth spreading through him. Across the table, YN sat with her own glass, the tension between them slightly eased by the familiar comfort of alcohol. The room was quiet, the only sound the soft clink of their glasses and the occasional creak of the old apartment settling around them.

They had been talking for a while, skirting around the more difficult topics, focusing instead on safer ground—how Noah was doing, the latest developments at YN’s job, the weather. But as the wine began to loosen their tongues, the conversation took on a more reflective tone.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?” Tyler asked, swirling his wine around in his glass, the liquid catching the dim light. “Drank wine together, I mean?”

YN smiled, a small, wistful expression crossing her face. “Yeah, I do. It was that night after our first tornado chase together. You brought that cheap bottle of wine, and we drank it on the tailgate of your truck, watching the stars.”

Tyler chuckled softly. “I think that was the best bottle of wine I’ve ever had. Probably because of the company.”

YN rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth in her gaze that hadn’t been there in a long time. “It was terrible wine, but… yeah, it was a good night.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment, both lost in the memory of simpler times. The night outside was calm, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had defined their relationship over the past few years.

“You know,” Tyler began, his voice a little quieter now, “I never wanted things to turn out like this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

YN looked down at her glass, her fingers tracing the rim. “I know, Tyler. But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. Doesn’t make it any less real.”

Tyler nodded, swallowing hard. “I just… I wish I could go back and do things differently. Be there for you and Noah the way I should have been.”

YN’s eyes met his, and for the first time that night, Tyler saw a flicker of the vulnerability she had kept hidden. “We can’t go back,” she said softly. “All we can do is deal with what’s in front of us now.”

Tyler leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the window. “And what’s in front of us now?” he asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer.

YN sighed, taking another sip of her wine. “Honestly? I don’t know. We’ve been doing okay, Noah and I. It’s been hard, but we’ve managed. But every time you come back… it stirs everything up again.”

“I don’t mean to make things harder for you,” Tyler said, his voice heavy with regret. “I just… I miss him. I miss you both.”

YN’s expression softened, but there was still a guardedness there, a hesitancy that hadn’t been present in those early days when they had been inseparable. “Tyler, I know you love Noah. And I know you care about me. But caring isn’t enough. It’s not enough to show up once in a while and expect things to be okay.”

“I know,” he admitted, his voice strained. “But I’m trying. I’m trying to be better.”

YN sighed, setting her glass down on the table. “I’ve heard that before, Tyler. And maybe you are trying, but it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve both been hurt. It doesn’t change the fact that I had to pick up the pieces and make a life for Noah and me without you.”

Tyler felt a lump forming in his throat, the weight of her words pressing down on him. “I hate that I put you in that position. I hate that I wasn’t there.”

“Then why weren’t you?” she asked, the question hanging heavy in the air. It was a question that had been asked before, but somehow, this time it felt different—more urgent, more necessary.

Tyler looked down at his hands, the glass of wine now forgotten. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Chasing storms, making a name for myself… I thought it was for us. But I got lost in it, lost in the adrenaline, the excitement. And by the time I realized what I was losing, it was too late.”

YN’s gaze softened slightly, but there was still a barrier between them, one built by years of disappointment. “It was never about the storms, Tyler. It was about being a family, about being there when it mattered. And you weren’t.”

Tyler nodded, accepting the truth of her words. “I know. And I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make up for it, but I want to try.”

YN leaned back in her chair, her expression pensive. “I don’t know if you can, Tyler. But maybe… maybe we can try to figure out where to go from here. For Noah’s sake, if nothing else.”

Tyler looked at her, hope flickering in his chest. “I’d like that,” he said softly. “I really would.”

As the night wore on, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—the funny things Noah had said recently, memories of old storm chases, even a few shared laughs. The tension slowly eased, replaced by something warmer, something that felt almost like the beginnings of healing.

And then, as the wine continued to work its way through their systems, Tyler found himself leaning in, his gaze locked on YN’s. The distance between them felt like it had narrowed, if only slightly, and before he knew it, he was kissing her.

For a moment, YN didn’t pull away. For a moment, it felt like things might be okay again, like they might be able to find their way back to each other. But then, even as she kissed him back, he heard her whisper, “Tyler, this is wrong…”

But neither of them stopped, not as the kiss deepened, not as the pull of something familiar and comforting took over. They were both too tired, too worn out by the weight of the past to resist the temptation of what used to be.

“Tyler, we shouldn’t…” she murmured, but her words trailed off as he kissed her neck, her hands tangling in his hair.

Tyler's hands trembled slightly as he lifted YN onto the counter, his lips still locked with hers in a kiss that grew more urgent by the second. His mind was clouded, every rational thought drowned out by the overwhelming need to be close to her again, to feel her against him. Their kisses were deep, almost desperate, filled with the longing and tension that had been building between them for years.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, searching for any sign that she wanted him to stop. But all he saw was the same need reflected back at him. Slowly, his hands moved to the hem of her shirt, fingers brushing against her skin as he lifted it over her head. She shivered at the contact, her breath catching in her throat as she looked up at him with wide eyes.

Tyler paused for a brief moment, taking in the sight of her—bare skin illuminated by the dim light, her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. Then, with a sense of reverence, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her shoulder, trailing soft kisses along her collarbone. Her skin was warm, smooth, and he felt a surge of affection as he kissed his way down her arm, lingering at the crook of her elbow before moving back up to her neck.

YN let out a small, involuntary moan as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear. Encouraged, Tyler continued his exploration, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. His hands roamed over her body, tracing the curve of her waist, the dip of her back, the soft swell of her breasts. He took his time, savouring the feel of her under his fingers, the way her body responded to his touch.

With a gentle tug, he unhooked her bra, letting it fall away. He kissed down the centre of her chest, his lips warm against her bare skin. YN arched into him, her fingers threading through his hair as she tilted her head back, offering more of herself to him.

Tyler’s kisses grew hungrier, more insistent, as he worked his way lower. He kissed along the curve of her ribcage, his hands gripping her hips as he nuzzled his face against her stomach. Every inch of her skin was met with his lips, his touch both tender and possessive. It was as if he was trying to memorize the taste and feel of her, to make up for all the time they had lost.

He continued to kiss her, slowly, methodically, until he reached the waistband of her pants. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers hovering over the button, before looking up at her. YN’s eyes were half-closed, her lips parted, and she gave him the slightest nod, a silent invitation to continue.

With practiced ease, Tyler undid the button and slid her pants down, along with her underwear, leaving her completely exposed to him. He took a step back, his eyes raking over her bare form, and for a moment, all he could do was stare, his breath catching in his throat.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. It wasn’t just about the physical—though she was stunning—but about everything she represented. The love they had shared, the life they had built, and the possibility of something more, something they had both thought they had lost.

YN blushed under his gaze, a soft smile playing on her lips as she reached out for him. Tyler wasted no time in closing the distance between them, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. His hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, exploring her body with a renewed urgency.

As he kissed his way down her body again, taking his time with each tender caress, YN’s breathing became more erratic, her fingers clutching at his shoulders, his hair, anything she could reach. Tyler could feel the heat radiating off her, the tension coiling between them, and he knew she was as lost in this moment as he was.

He kissed his way down her stomach, his lips brushing over her hips, her thighs, the sensitive skin just below her navel. He wanted to take his time, to worship her the way she deserved, but the need in his own body was growing stronger, almost unbearable.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, Tyler lifted his head and met her gaze. There was something raw, almost desperate in his eyes as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her skin. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you.”

YN didn’t respond with words; instead, she pulled him up to her, capturing his lips in a kiss that was filled with all the unspoken feelings between them. The kiss was deep, intense, a perfect reflection of the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for years.

Tyler’s hands roamed over her body, memorizing every curve, every inch of bare skin as he pressed himself against her. The world outside the small apartment faded away, leaving just the two of them, lost in the moment, lost in each other.

He kissed her again and again, each kiss more passionate than the last, until they were both breathless, their bodies tangled together on the counter. As Tyler undressed himself, his movements were hurried, desperate, as if he couldn’t stand to be separated from her for even a second.

When he finally re-joined her, their bodies came together in a way that was as familiar as it was new, a perfect blend of past and present. As they moved together, their kisses never ceased, growing more intense, more desperate, until all that was left was the pure, raw connection between them.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the hurt, not the anger, not the uncertainty of the future. All that existed was the two of them, their bodies intertwined, their hearts beating in sync as they found their way back to each other, one kiss at a time.

----

One year later

When Tyler returned another year later, the air in YN’s small apartment felt different. Noah was now six, and the innocent joy in his son’s voice as he packed his bag in his room was a stark contrast to the tension simmering just beneath the surface between Tyler and YN.

As YN opened the door to let Tyler in, the look on her face was anything but warm. There was a distinct coldness in her eyes, a chill that hadn’t been there during their last encounter. Tyler noticed it immediately, though he couldn’t quite place why. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter, but there was no welcoming smile, no familiar spark.

“Hey,” Tyler greeted, trying to sound casual, though his stomach was already tightening with unease. “How’ve you been?”

YN didn’t answer right away. She simply closed the door behind him and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the wall. “Noah’s in his room packing,” she said curtly, avoiding his eyes. Her voice was distant, the usual warmth completely absent.

Tyler frowned, sensing that something was off. “Is everything okay?” he asked, concern lacing his tone. He took a step toward her, but she shifted slightly, putting more distance between them.

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and he saw the storm behind her eyes. “I’m fine,” she replied, though the tightness in her voice suggested otherwise. “But you… you seem to be doing just great.”

Tyler blinked, confusion washing over him. “What do you mean?”

YN’s gaze hardened. “Saw your little livestream the other day. The one with...what's her name again? Kacey? Kylie? Oh no, Kate.”

Realization dawned on him like a punch to the gut. He’d done a live stream with his storm-chasing crew a few days ago, a casual one where they’d been chatting about their latest chase. Kate, as always, had been her cheerful self, and at one point, he’d kissed her forehead in a playful, affectionate gesture—something that had seemed harmless at the time.

But seeing YN’s expression now, he knew it hadn’t come across that way to her.

“That—” Tyler began, struggling to find the right words. “That was nothing, YN. Kate’s just a friend. We were just messing around, that’s all.”

YN’s laugh was bitter, devoid of any humour. “Yeah, just messing around. Like we used to, right? Before things got complicated.”

Tyler’s heart sank. He knew this wasn’t just about the livestream. It was about all the times he hadn’t been there, all the times he’d put his career, his crew, before her and Noah. It was about how easily he seemed to move on, while she was left picking up the pieces.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he insisted, his voice pleading now. “It was just a stupid, thoughtless thing. It doesn’t mean anything.”

YN finally looked him in the eye, and the pain there was unmistakable. “It means something to me, Tyler,” she said quietly. “It means that even after all this time, you still don’t get it. You still don’t understand what it’s like to be left behind while you’re out there, living your life without us.”

Tyler opened his mouth to argue, to tell her that she was wrong, that he did care, that he did understand. But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, he knew she was right. He’d always been better at chasing storms than at staying put, at dealing with the realities of the life they’d once tried to build together.

The silence between them stretched out, heavy and oppressive, until finally, YN sighed and shook her head. “Noah’s excited to see you,” she said, her tone softening just a little. “He’s been looking forward to it all week. So don’t ruin this for him.”

Tyler nodded, guilt gnawing at his insides. “I won’t,” he promised, though the words felt hollow in his mouth.

YN turned away from him, as if the conversation was over, and Tyler was left standing in the middle of the small living room, feeling like an intruder in a place that had once felt like home. The sound of Noah’s cheerful humming drifted in from the other room, a stark contrast to the icy atmosphere between his parents.

Tyler couldn’t shake the feeling that, no matter how much he tried, he would never be able to make things right between them. And as he stood there, waiting for Noah to finish packing, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was losing YN all over again—this time for good.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

Rewrite the ending

-Just once, let him rewrite the story; Just once, he promises you will never have to watch the same ending again.

Paring◦ felix x mommy issues!reader

Genre ◦ smut with pain

Warnings ◦ The reader is described as having mommy issues though the argument is very brief so it can connect with more people, angst, talk about knives, PIV sex, CONSENT, ngl this is just some passionate lovemaking, tears during sex, references to the princess bride the greatest love story of all time I will die on this hill,

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr, @velvetmoonlght

A/N ◦ This is literally a story solely based on an experience I just had with my mother and needed something to comfort me while I have a mental breakdown 😃 also if you liked this man I have mommy issues I severely need reassurance 😭

can somebody please tell me if this is convoluted because I tried to make it poetic but I don't know if I just made it messy. THANK YOU.

Soundtrack ◦ Family Line by Conan Grey, Cover me by Stray Kids

~cookiecreates 🍪

The screen flickers off.

The velvet curtains close.

The world fades to black.

The End

Your ribs crack open, heavy sobs echoing through the gaps of your unfolded bones. Your hands make purchase around your shredded soul, the warm liquid of your sorrows trickling through your splayed fingers like the shadow's phantom finger tracing the lines of your melancholy, dusting over the hill of your cheeks. 

One more time.

Just one more time.

You rewind the tape-

The velvet curtains stutter open.

The screen flashes white.

Just one more time.

How many times could you watch the same movie before you realized the ending would never change?

You rewind the tape-

How many times could you lick her love off the edge of a knife before you realize the blade will never dull?

You slide the tip across your tongue-

Just one more time.

Please.

Just pretend to love me one more time.

"For once, can you admit that you're wrong?" you snap, attempting to steady your rising voice. 

You've been arguing with your mother for centuries, your breath grating across your throat like grains of sharpened sand. Talking to her was like bouncing wisdom off a wall; it will only ever come to bite you in the ass-

"I did what I had to do to teach you discipline; you were unruly-"

or punch you in the face.

"I was nine!" you shout, a weak and wounded cry. "Nine!"

How could she not see that?

"I did it because I loved you."

She rips your heart out of your chest, only to dust a gentle finger underneath the curve of your jaw; her sweet smile coaxes your lips open; she was your mother, and yet, with a wicked gaze, she draws her fingers together—you choke, a thick river of blood flows onto your tongue like a bitter stream of a thousand broken promises.

There was so much you wanted to say to her.

"Maybe you should reevaluate your definition of love."

"Maybe you should have just been a better daughter."

"Only she could spread sugar across your skin before feeding your soul to the ants."

The signal of an ended call rings through your ears as the world fades to black.

The velvet curtains close.

The screen flickers off.

The movie sputters to a stop.

The End

All you wanted to hear was I'm sorry.

All you have ever wanted to hear was I'm sorry.

You are far too entranced with the stillness of your spine to hear the door creak open, Felix’s hesitant footsteps carefully creep closer. It is only when he mumbles a soft, saturnine "sweetheart" that you finally feel something-

"How did it go?" Felix believed the strings of your souls were so intertwined, the two of you experienced emotions the way an instrument feels the thrum of a cord; but as your heart pumps with an intangible amount of anguish, maybe even for you, some feelings were simply too subjective to share.

It is only when your heart has been crushed by fingers made of feathers do you start caring a lot less about the hands made of knives.

How desperately he wishes he was a human with hinges, where he may unscrew his soul and allow your eyes to gaze upon his walls, with the knowledge that they were only ever painted with the thought of you.

He would not hurt you-

Please, collapse into him, just once-

Let him prove that you will never have to fall again-

Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, your hand chases his touch, a million different uncompleted sentences dissipating as soon as your skin connects; your fingers beg, hold me, even as your mouth shutters shut, dusty rivulets cascading across your cheeks like the desert's silky sand.

You were empty.

so, so, very empty-

Felix's soothing hands lock underneath the bend of your knees, pulling you into his warm embrace with a rush of unregistered movements.

You rewind the tape.

Just one more time.

You needed to be reminded of what it was like to not constantly live with the echo of a hollow soul.

Just one more time.

You needed to be reminded of what it was like to hear something other than a deafening crescendo of pure contempt.

Just one more time.

"Please," you have lived so much of your life caught in a perpetual state of emptiness, for once, you wanted to remember what your body was like before your mother bore you with the heavy burden of broken wings.

"Touch me," you shove the palm of his hand into your core, pleading with so much of your soul none left to protest. He gasps into your mouth, his face scrawled with worry, the etch of a million different fears drawn into the deep lines of his forehead.

Just once

Let him rewind the film

Just once

You will never have to watch the same ending again.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Though his words are unsure, his actions tell a different story; tender hands massage the length of your thighs, reluctantly begging you to open up, to unfold your deformed ribs, where he will fill your hollow bones with the type of love you have only ever yearned for.

Just once.

"I need you."

You need him more than you need your heart to beat, your lungs to breathe; you need him more than you need the birds, the bees, the ground, the trees—

He lays you upon the silken sheets with such soulful kindness that your glassy eyes almost break; his heart thrums with the promise of I love you and the vow of I'll make you fly. His hand dips into the band of your shorts, pleasure peeking out from the shadows of your mind, only ever bobbing its head long enough to fill your skin with a minute tingling sensation—like running your hands under hot water after a long day in the snow, but it was not enough.

"I need you," you gasp into his mouth, his throat desperately sucking the sound in. His eyes widen ever so slightly, his features stricken with a sudden tightness, a burdened tonnage; you were handing him your heart with the hope his hands weren't made of blades, and the idea of the utter trust you have put in him to do that makes his stomach flip.

Just once—

He will prove it all to you.

"As you wish," nostalgia flutters in your veins as you reminisce the sentence pulled straight from the greatest love story ever told. His nose nudges the column of your throat as he presses a peck on your flesh, drifting his arms down to unceremoniously pull off his pants.

Even with such a simple act, he makes the effort to remind you that he is here.

He takes his time removing your clothes, fingers sliding across your skin with a delicate intimacy, a tender reverence; his lips trace the lines of your seams until your very atoms are etched with his name.

I hate her

I love you

I love you

I love you

He coupled every leak of anger with a river of love, kissing your limbs until all your body could remember was the pureness of his ardor.

"Are you ready?" he whispers against your skin, lining himself with your entrance, all he needs is a word to finally sink himself in. Your eyes are glassy, gazing up at him with such an unadulterated passion, a pure amount of pain—this will tear you apart, and he promises with every fiber of his being, he will put you back together.

"Yes." You have lived most of your life with the heavy burden of a body’s broken wings, and it isn't until Felix’s crafted hands finally crease your ribs that you realize origami can only emerge when you fold it up, the way a bird can only fly when it falls.

You are an amalgamation; so much of your soul is lost in his lips you don't know where he begins and you end, but when a rush of pleasure tingles up your spine, you don't care.

The world is tangled somewhere on the edge of in-between space and time, melding together into a mushy, gushy substance that slips through your fingers as they lace in his raven locks. You pour all your pain into the slit of his lips, where he sucks in every drop, leaving no room for your protests.

You were both overcome with a flood of delicate feelings—the passion that surged with the twists of your heartbeats began to be too much to bear; as his hips ruthlessly rut into yours, you cry out, chasing the edge of a daydream. So close, so close, so—his lips taste like I love you and his tears like I'm here. You can only hear the crash of your soul shattering before his ginger fingers sew you back together.

The juxtaposition of that orgasm was astounding.

You both slam down into the earth at the same time, holding each other's tired bodies as the ground swallows you up.

His arms lock around your head, quivering as he struggles to hold himself up, droplets of tears land on your cheeks as they dip down the slope of his nose. He was so perfect-

so, so, very perfect.

Your mouth raises to kiss a tear clinging to the tip of his nose. He chokes, squeezing his eyes shut. You both are thrumming with tension, overflowing with emotion; before you can even blink, he is pulling you to his chest, naked and sticky, he holds you closer than you have ever been.

It is through the tears of others that we remember we are alive.

Just one more time.

Rewind the tape and let him kiss your shattering soul with the knowledge that has already rewritten the ending.

Just once-

Collapse into him.

Let him prove that this story really is—

The End  

©CookieCreates (posted: August, 12th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

~cookiecreates 🍪

[newobsessionweekly]

Long sleeves

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist Tim Bradford x rookie!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: Tim is replacing your TO for the day, and he doesn't hesitate giving you a hard time. And, in the end it's worth it.

Fluff Warnings: none, I guess. Not proofread yet Requested: yes - here Words: 2.4k GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

Six months now as a rookie and you know is not what you've expected. The blood, the lose and the deafening sound of the gunshots, no one can prepare you for that and you can't get them off your mind.

You're seated in the first row amongst the other rookies, tapping your foot nervously against the floor, waiting for the briefing to start and face another shift. You've come a long way since joining the force, each day pushing harder to prove your worth and dedication to the job. Suddenly, the murmurs and laughter fade into the air as Tim Bradford, the rookie sergeant wearing a commanding posture, and Sergeant Grey takes their spots at the front of the room.

The briefing starts, but your mind wanders as the Sergeant Bradford, under the guidance of Grey, discuss the day's agenda. You catch snatches of their conversation—the usual updates on recent incidents, reminders about protocol—but your attention keeps drifting back to Tim.

Tim's rugged features catch your eye immediately, igniting a warmth in your chest that you quickly try to suppress. You've always admired him from afar, but lately, there's been something more—an undeniable attraction that you can't seem to shake.

Then, to your surprise, Tim looks up and catches your eye. There's a flicker of something in his gaze—recognition, perhaps, or maybe just curiosity—as he nods in your direction.

"Officer Y/L/N" Tim's voice cuts through the silence, his tone firm and commanding. "Nolan's out today, dealing with some personal stuff," he continues, his tone businesslike yet tinged with a hint of something else. "Which means," he pauses, locking eyes with you, "you'll be riding with me."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Tim as your temporary TO. You've heard the rumors about his legendary Tim Tests and his grumpy attitude, and the thought of riding with him sends a wave of nervousness coursing through you.

Glancing over at Tim, you can't help but notice the toughness of his aspect, the way his uniform fits perfectly against his body. Despite his severe exterior, there's an undeniable magnetism about him that draws you in, stirring up a flurry of conflicting emotions within you.

Tim can't deny the surge of expectation that courses through him as he watches you. There's something about the way you carry yourself, a determination in your eyes that sets you apart from the other rookies. And if he's being honest with himself, he can't help but notice how damn attractive you are.

But beneath the surface, there's something else brewing—a tension that Tim can't quite put his finger on. He's caught himself stealing glances at you more than once, admiring the way you handle yourself under pressure. And lately, he's found himself wondering what it would be like to see you in a different light.

As Tim finishes the briefing, he offers a nod to the room, "Be safe out there." Then, he makes his way over to you with long, decisive steps, his gaze lingering on your uniform.

"What are you wearing, Boot?" Tim's voice is low, his eyes flicking over your body.

You straighten up, a proud smile tugging at your lips. "Short sleeves. Got the highest score on my exam," you reply confidently, hoping to impress him.

But instead of returning your smile, Tim's expression remains serious and professional. "Go change. You can wear short sleeves when you prove me you're worthy of them," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your heart sinks at his words, the excitement of earning your short sleeves fading as quickly as it had come. Swallowing your disappointment, you nod silently and hurry off to change into the long sleeves uniform.

As you slip into the familiar fabric, Lucy approaches you in the locker room, a sympathetic look in her eyes. "Don't forget the tie," she reminds you gently, her voice filled with understanding.

You offer her a grateful smile, though you can't help but feel a twinge of frustration at having to cover up your hard-earned accomplishment. "Thanks, Lucy," you murmur, grateful for her support.

As you adjust your tie, Lucy leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Listen, Y/N," she begins, her tone carrying the weight of experience. "I've been in your shoes before. Tim can be a hardass, but he's also one of the best. He'll push you because he believes in you, but don't let his grumpiness get under your skin."

You nod, hanging onto every word Lucy says. "Got it." you reply, determined to heed her advice.

"And one more thing," Lucy adds, her voice softening slightly. "Don't take it personally if he's tough on you. It's just his way of pushing you to be your best."

With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Lucy leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You'll survive him for a day," she assures you, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

You can't help but chuckle at her words, knowing all too well the reputation Tim has earned as a tough and demanding Training Officer. But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that today will be different—that maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to prove yourself to Tim in ways he never expected.

The shop is slicing through LA's mid-day traffic and the tension between you and Tim is palpable. He read some impressive reviews about you from Nolan, but knowing well the TO, Tim is afraid John is going too soft on you. His eyes flicker over to you, his expression unreadable as he silently enjoys the day on patrol. Since he became a Sergeant, Tim misses the action from the streets more than anything.

Suddenly, the crackle of the radio breaks the silence, dispatching you to a domestic disturbance call. Tim's jaw tightens as he steers the car towards the address, his mind already in cop mode.

"Dispatch, this is 7-Adam-100, show us responding." Tim grunts, his voice clipped and authoritative. "Boot, what's the first thing you do when responding to a domestic disturbance?"

You don't miss a beat, drawing on your training as you recite the correct procedure straight from the rookie book. "First priority is ensuring the safety of everyone involved, sir," you respond confidently, your tone unwavering despite Tim's rough attitude.

Tim nods approvingly, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. When you arrive at the scene, tension is running high as you step out of the shop. Tim takes the lead, barking out orders with authority as you assess the situation and intervene to de-escalate the conflict, ensuring everyone's safety.

Back in the shop, Tim turns his attention back to you. "Alright, Boot. What's the procedure for conducting a field sobriety test?"

You take a moment to think before answering confidently, "First, observe the suspect's behavior and look for signs of impairment. Then, administer a series of tests, such as the walk-and-turn and one-leg stand."

Tim nods approvingly, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. "Not bad, Boot."

He can't tear his gaze away from you, your beauty captivating him in a way he can't quite explain. There's something about you that draws him in, igniting a fire deep within him that he struggles to control. Tim can't help but imagine what it would be like to have you in his bed, to explore every inch of your body and lose himself in your embrace.

As much as Tim tries to push aside his carnal desires, they only seem to grow stronger with each passing moment. He can feel the heat of your gaze on him, your unholy thoughts mirroring his own as the day slowly turns into night.

You are consumed by your own forbidden desires for Tim. You can't stop the flood of sinful images that race through your mind whenever he's near, igniting a fire within you that you struggles to contain. His rugged good looks and commanding presence awaken something primal within you, stirring a desire you can't ignore.

You two share a rare moment of quiet in the shop and you can't help but steal glances at Tim, your heart pounding with longing. You imagine what it would be like to feel his touch, to experience the raw passion that simmers beneath his tough exterior.

But despite the undeniable attraction that simmers between you, you know that giving in to temptation would only complicate things further. Tim may be your sergeant, but he's also your forbidden desire, a fantasy that can never be reality.

Just as you start to relax and head towards lunch, another call comes in—a suspect fleeing on foot. Without hesitation, you and Tim leap into action, chasing the suspect through alleyways and side streets until, finally, you manages to tackle them to the ground, bringing the suspect into custody.

Lunch break unfolded pretty quickly, the time spent apart from Tim was too short. You missed Nolan more than you want to admit, there's a bond that formed between you, his talkative personality matching yours. But with Tim, knowing he's a Sergeant and plus his grumpiness that never fails to resurface, you have your own restrictions.

Back in the shop, you didn't dare to start a conversation with him. You wished to talk about anything else but work and the rookie book, to ease your mind and relax, enjoy the job, but Tim is nothing like that.

"What's the standard protocol for approaching a suspect who may be armed?"

"Um, well..." you begin, your voice uncertain as you struggle to recall the answer from the rookie book. "I think... we're supposed to maintain a safe distance and try to de-escalate the situation verbally before resorting to force?"

Tim's expression remains impassive as he waits for you to finish, but when you hesitate, he interrupts, his voice sharp. "You think? Or are you sure?"

You swallow hard, your confidence faltering under Tim's intense gaze. "I'm sure," you replied, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

But Tim shakes his head, disappointment evident in his eyes. "You think too much," he says curtly. "The suspect is firing at you and the civilians. We're dead, and he's running away."

As you drive in silence after the tense exchange, you can't shake the feeling of disappointment and anxiety gnawing at you. You replay the scenario in your mind, berating yourself for not being able to answer Tim's question correctly.

Before you can voice your concerns, Tim's sharp voice cuts through the silence, snapping you back to reality. "Suspicious vehicle ahead. What do you do, Boot?" he asks, his tone expectant.

Heart pounding, you respond without hesitation. "I'll pull them over," you declare, taking action and flicking on the lights and siren.

The shop pulls up behind the vehicle, and as you both step out of the car, Tim nods towards you, silently indicating for you to take the lead. With a deep breath, you approach the driver's side, your hand resting on your holster, ready for anything.

But as you reach the window, your blood runs cold. The driver pulls a gun, aiming it directly at you. Frozen in fear, your mind goes blank, unable to process the gravity of the situation.

In an instant, Tim is by your side, his voice steady and commanding as he diffuses the tense standoff. With precision and skill, he disarms the suspect and secures the scene, all while keeping a watchful eye on you.

His expression is stern as you approach the shop, "You froze back there, Boot." he scolds, his disappointment evident in his voice. "In this line of work, split-second decisions can mean the difference between life and death. If you waste time thinking what you should do in this situation and don't act quickly, you're not ready for short sleeves."

You hang your head, chastened by Tim's words. You know he's right—you can't afford to freeze up when lives are on the line. But, when the tension between you and him reaches a fever pitch, the air is thick with frustration and unspoken desires. You can feel your heart racing as you meet Tim's intense gaze, a mixture of defiance and attraction swirling in your chest.

"I had everything under control," you insist, trying to stand your ground against Tim's scolding, but your voice betrays the hint of uncertainty that lingers beneath the surface.

Beneath your bravado, Tim senses the fear lurking just beneath the surface, and it ignites a fierce protectiveness within him. "If you hesitated one more second, you'd be dead right now, Officer Y/L/N" he snaps back, the urgency in his voice betraying the depth of his concern for your safety.

Tim wants to push you, to test your limits and see what you're truly capable of. But as he reaches for his weapon, a part of him hesitates, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. His eyes lock onto yours with a challenge, and you can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline course through your veins.

"I'm an armed suspect. Show me what you've got. Take me into custody," he commands, the teasing edge to his voice doing little to mask the underlying tension between you.

But before you can second-guess yourself any further, you square your jaw and cross your arms in defiance. "Make me," you retort, voice laced with a mix of sass and annoyance at Tim's constant tests.

A smirk tugs at the corners of Tim's lips as he steps closer, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the danger, despite the risks, he can't deny the thrill of the challenge, the electric spark of attraction that crackles between you.

"I'll show you tonight how to properly use the handcuffs. What do you say?" he teases, the words slipping from his lips before he can stop them, fueled by a potent mix of desire and adrenaline.

Your breath catches in her throat, your cheeks flushing with heat as you meet Tim's gaze head-on. "After dinner. And that's on you," you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument as you holds his gaze with unwavering determination.

"Deal," Tim concedes, a playful glint in his eye as he leans in closer, the promise of what's to come hanging between you like a tangible force.

[luvsymai]

wondering if request based of managa /anime on chapters 365 like you know how bakugou is currently severely injured in manga /anime instead of bakugou almost dying it’s the reader who takes all the hits blows for him when fighting shigaraki which led reader to endure attack to chest and arms to protect bakugku maybe she using her full potential of her quirk which is slowy corrupting her due to overuse and possibly shigiraki took advantage and attack her just wanna add that to mix aslo can reader powers be similar to scarlet witch if don’t know mcu or her you can do like raven type dark magic from teen titans if this makes sense aslo can ending be somewhat angst and fluff ending if that’s ok i hope this makes sense

Shadows of Sacrifice ; Katsuki Bakugo

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x GN!Reader

Genre: Angst to Fluff

Warnings: mentions of death, angst, near death situation.

<- Masterlist

___________________________________

The battlefield was a chaotic symphony of destruction. The once vibrant U.A. High grounds now lay in ruins, smoke and debris covering the sky. Amidst the rubble, the fierce battle between the heroes and Shigaraki raged on. At the center of this chaos stood Katsuki, every fiber of his being screaming in defiance against the monstrous villain.

But it wasn't Katsuki who bore the brunt of Shigaraki's wrath this time. It was you.

Your quirk, "Shadow Weave," pulsed through your veins, a dark and potent magic akin to the powers of Raven from Teen Titans. Each shadow you manipulated acted as both a shield and a weapon, protecting Katsuki from Shigaraki's relentless onslaught. However, the overuse of your powers came at a cost. Your body was beginning to feel the corrupting effects, shadows flickering around your form erratically.

"Get out of here!" Katsuki yelled, his voice strained with desperation. "You're gonna get yourself killed!"

Ignoring his plea, you summoned every ounce of your strength, weaving shadows into a protective barrier as Shigaraki lunged forward. His decay-infused touch met your barrier, and for a moment, it held. But the strain was immense. The shadows began to waver, cracks forming in the dark shield.

"Just hang on, Katsuki," you panted, blood trickling down your arms. "I can handle this."

Shigaraki's sinister grin widened. "So willing to die for him? How touching." With a sudden, violent motion, he broke through your barrier, his hand connecting with your chest.

Agony exploded through you. You screamed, the force of the impact sending you crashing to the ground. Your vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges. You could hear Katsuki shouting, but his words were muffled, as if underwater.

Shigaraki loomed over you, ready to deliver the final blow. But even in your weakened state, you wouldn't let him win. Gathering the last of your strength, you unleashed a surge of dark magic, the shadows swirling around you in a chaotic storm. The energy crackled with intensity, momentarily halting Shigaraki's advance.

"Not… yet," you whispered, forcing yourself to stand. "I'm not done… protecting him."

Katsuki, witnessing your determination, felt a surge of emotions. Rage, guilt, admiration—he couldn't let your sacrifice be in vain. With a primal roar, he charged at Shigaraki, his explosions more ferocious than ever.

The battlefield erupted in a blinding light as Bakugou unleashed his full power. Shigaraki was forced to retreat, the combined might of your shadows and Katsuki’s explosions proving too much for him. As the dust settled, Bakugou rushed to your side, kneeling beside your broken form.

"Stay with me," he begged, his voice shaking. "You can't die on me now, damn it!"

Your eyes fluttered open, a weak smile forming on your lips. "Looks like… I did it. You're safe."

Katsuki gently lifted you into his arms, his usually fierce expression softened with worry and guilt. "You idiot. Why'd you go and do something so reckless?"

You coughed weakly, feeling the darkness receding slightly. "Couldn't let you die. Someone has to keep you in check."

He held you close, his voice barely a whisper. "Don't you dare die. You hear me? We still have a lot to do together."

As you slipped into unconsciousness, you felt a strange sense of peace. Despite the pain, despite the corruption slowly eating away at you, you had protected the one you cared for most. And in his arms, you knew you were safe.

___________________________________

You awoke in a hospital room, the sterile scent filling your nostrils. Machines beeped steadily around you, a testament to the extensive care you required. You turned your head slightly, wincing at the pain, to see Katsuki slumped in a chair beside your bed, fast asleep. His hand held yours tightly, as if afraid to let go.

"Katsuki…" you whispered, your voice hoarse.

His eyes snapped open, and he immediately leaned forward, relief flooding his features. "You're awake," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"Yeah," you replied, managing a small smile. "Guess I'm tougher than I look."

He scoffed, though his eyes were glistening. "Damn right you are. Don't ever scare me like that again."

"I'll try not to," you teased lightly, squeezing his hand. "Thanks for saving me."

He shook his head. "No, you saved me. I couldn't have done it without you."

“…”

There was a moment of silence as you both absorbed the gravity of what had happened. Despite the pain and the lingering effects of your quirk, you were alive. And so was Katsuki.

Suddenly, he gritted his teeth in anger. Vivid images appearing as he remembers your bloody figure, your determination to protect him.

“Tsk,” With swift speed, his hand collided onto the crown of your head in a comical sense, an irk mark appearing onto your forehead as you winced.

“You dumbass, i’m literally severely injured! When i get out of this stupid bed, i’m going to—“

You felt him hug you, your sentence dying as he murmured something into your chest. “How could you be so reckless, what if you had really died? What would i do then? God, you’re so dumb, you nerd..”

"We'll get through this," he said firmly, his determination clear. "Together."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you despite the ache in your body. "Together."

In that moment, you knew that no matter the challenges ahead, you would face them side by side. And with Katsuki by your side, you were ready for anything.

[writing-mlm]

maybe tim drake x male reader where tim falls back into his habit of just sort of studying people like he had batman and robin. he likes the reader but obviously tim has to analyze everything about him, his own habits paired with the suspicious nature instilled in him by batman wouldn’t let him casually take interest in somebody.

It's not stalking if we kiss

Summary: Tim can't process emotions normally and does everything wrong only... it works Pairing: Tim Drake x Male reader W.C: 4k a/n: guys I cant write Tim properly omfg I rewrote this a million times

People tend to forget that Tim is actually… kinda creepy. He is second on the stalker list, right behind Joe from You and now that he thinks about it, he might be better than Joe. For one, Joe is actually creepy. He’s a killer by choice, he’s the gross stalker. Tim is the informant stalker, considering himself more of a private investigator type of stalker. And, he’s not a stalker. He’s a detective who’s really good with technology. Everyone knows that. 

Admittedly, he’s tried to grow out of those habits in his recent years. After being confronted with learning every single member of the JLA’s schedules without any of them noticing, he realized he had an issue. He went to therapy— he slept on it and watched a couple of movies and changed. 

But man, old habits die hard. 

He doesn’t realize he's fallen back into his stalking habits for a long while, that’s how second nature they had become over the years. Some sort of natural instinct he had since birth to learn about people that were only made worse through Bruce’s training and his paranoid nature. It was the perfect concoction for someone like Tim, leading him down a near-irreversible path. 

Even now, as he’s watching the surveillance footage of you as you’re out on patrol several states away, he doesn’t realize it. His eyes flicker across the screen to find the street sign, Blecker Street, you’re seventeen blocks away from home and nearly three miles out from your patrol area. Having followed one of your old goons down to an alleyway before dipping into the restaurant they ran inside. 

It was a temporary stay, your old mentor was going to be away for some time and needed someone to watch over their city in their absence. Naturally, you accepted and set up back in your old apartment, it had never been rented out considering your mentor was the landlord and sentimental in that way. But that didn’t stop Tim from worrying. He’s seen reports from that city, and while it’s not as bad as Gotham, the city had aliens and metas. It wasn’t something Gotham had to deal with often, something you had definitely stopped being used to. 

Sipping his tea, Tim watches as you roll your neck and then your shoulder as you exit the restaurant with the goon in tow, it only tells him one simple fact; you’re tired. Probably another ten or so minutes before you called it a day and went back home. He grins, he prefers it when you’re home. Well, it’s not actually home, he thinks he should call it your place for the week instead. Your home is in Gotham now, it has been for several years now. He knows you've been neighbors for quite some time now. 

Sure enough, after ten minutes you’ve called it a night and head back to your apartment. Once he gets a visual of you entering your apartment safely, he closes out the footage tabs on his laptop and goes to bed. It’s nearly eight in the morning in Gotham and he’s been up for nearly two days. His old— according to Jason— body isn’t used to staying up for four days straight anymore. 

It sucks ass. 

As he settles into bed, he just has to double-check that you’re okay. He flicks through the cameras he’s hacked into, seeing that you’ve entered the apartment and from the home security your neighbors have, he hears the door lock four times. That’s the lock, the deadbolt, and two additional locks and it settles him enough that he’s pulled into a slumber by the fact that you made it home safely. 

—

It’s small things, at least that’s what everyone tells him. The small things matter and he wholeheartedly agrees, more often than not in crimes the smallest details could be the largest but he doesn’t know how that would apply to you. Why whenever he’d mention you to Dick or even Alfred, they’d tell him that. As if it was some major deciding factor in his friendship with you.  

Ever the genius, he doesn’t connect it when he remembers the last time he was in your boat you’d mentioned how you hated the fact that people could look inside. 

So, naturally, when he finds a one-way glass cover online, he just has to buy it for you. Never mind the fact that he installs it while you’re still out of the city and without getting any sort of permission from you. But he has a key for a reason. You clearly trust him. He doesn’t see why it would be a big deal for you. Maybe for others, but you’re different. You’re… well, you. 

He installs it and has Bernard test it out from the outside and it works. Not that he doubted his work would ever fail. He checks for himself and he’s pleasantly surprised that someone would only be able to look inside if they got within an inch of the window. And he thoroughly doubts anyone could even get that close to begin with. 

While he’s there, cleaning up the mess he didn’t mean to make, he notices that the fruits on your counter are going bad. It would be bad if you returned to a house of moldy food, so he throws it out and cleans the bowl before Tim decides he needs to make sure there’s nothing else wrong on the boat. 

It’s only nice. 

He ends up with a trash bag filled with nearly rotten fruit, an expired milk jug that only had one bowl of cereal left, some cleaning wipes, and a gross-smelling sponge. He knows you don’t live in filth, you hate dust and mold, so he figures the sponge had accidentally retained some nasty liquid that only got worse with your departure and subsequent lack of attention. 

Tim, knowing you well enough, goes back out to replace the sponge but he rationalizes that if he’s buying a sponge he might as well restock your home. It feels weird going to the store to pick up just one thing. He takes a list of everything you’re running low on or out of entirely and sets out for the second time that day. Never mind the fact that he had agreed to drinks with Bernard who was now forced to tag along if he even wanted to get a taste of drinks later that night.

He returns to the boat with Bernard deciding to wait outside, something about not missing another planned event, and puts everything into their rightful place. He knows where everything goes, the meticulous spots that you never change whenever you deep clean.

Should he deep clean for you?

“Good God! Let’s go!” Bernard yells after Tim has spent a whole ten minutes debating if he should deep clean the entire boat. 

“It’s not like you’re coming home with me,” He huffs, exiting the boat. Bernard raises an eyebrow and Tim raises his back. “You always go off when we get drinks— I’m just the wingman,”

“Yeah, a pretty shit one.” Bernard scoffs. 

—

“Hey,” He answers his phone without looking up from his current case. It doesn’t have his attention, it hasn’t since you left, but he needs to get at least a little work done. Even if he’s still riding out the splitting headache from yesterday. “How’s city-sitting?” He glances at the phone, making sure it was on speaker. 

“Calm,” You answer, crawling out onto the fire escape of your old apartment. “Better than Gotham— my place doesn’t move with the wind anymore, either.” You chuckle, now settled onto one of the old metal stairs. 

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of staying,” He frowns, taking the phone off of the speaker and pressing it to his ear. Now that he thinks about it, he wouldn’t mind moving to your city. It’s nice. 

“Nah,” Your face scrunches as you say it. “It’s nice, but it’s too retirement home for me. I’m not ready to give up having a constant stock of bottled water and up-to-date gas masks.” You joke. 

“That’s good,” He stops himself from sighing. “My rent would’ve gone up.” He jokes, flipping through the pages of his files. 

“You’re rich,” You scoff, it’s playful. There’s no harm in it. “It’s crazy we’re paying rent to live on fucking water, though.” You add, leaning back on the stairs.

“Eh,” He shrugs, grabbing a pen and flipping it between his fingers. He’s sure somewhere in the galaxy someone is paying rent to live on air. “Capitalism will always be crazy.”

“Oh, by the way, the supermarket had a sale on those ice creams you like. I got you some,” He admits while putting the phone back on speaker. 

“Bitch,” You draw out. Tim hears your smile and softly smiles, now taking apart his pen. “I love you, dude. Oh my god, I’m gonna raw dog them once I get back.” You all but moan.

“…sometimes I wish you thought before you spoke,” He cringes, staring at his phone. Never mind the way hearing you say that made him feel things.

“Sorry!” You laugh. “But, thanks. How much do I—“

“I’m rich,” He reminds you, putting the pen back together. His phone beeps midway putting the ink back into the metal casing and he glances at his phone. It’s an alert that your mentor was spotted back in the city. He smiles at the alert, a part of his nerves calming immediately. 

Good, you’ll be back in two days. 

“I gotta go,” He lies knowing your mentor will be back within the next two minutes. 

“Ah, okay. Keep me updated about that case, I just know it’s that Elvis impersonator!” Standing up, you stretch and he nearly hears the pop of your joints. 

“It’s not, but okay.” 

He does very little in the window between then and your return, he’s mostly counting the hours and patrolling. It’s the usual for patrol, albeit a little boring without your chatter in his ear. He’s happy to report he didn’t get any major injuries in that time frame, though. 

When you finally return to Gotham, Tim waits for you on the deck of the boat. He’s pretending to hardly care, acting caught up in some footage he’s reviewing to notice you walking up to the docks. 

“Missed me?” You grin, stepping into the boat with ease. He remembers when you’d been so nervous to get on them before, fearing you’d fall into the nasty water below. 

He looks up, a grin across his face and eyes taking you in. You’ve tanned in your absence, although he supposed Gotham doesn’t get nearly as much sun as Florida does. 

“Hardly noticed you were gone,” He teases and closes his laptop. Rolling your eyes, you invite him inside. He takes the invitation with ease, slipping inside your boat as you scan around. 

“You cleaned?” You ask, the smell of his favorite cleaning products still lingering in the air. “Don’t tell me that the Tim Drake had a party in my boat house!” You gasp, looking at him. 

“Hardly,” He nudges you aside so he can sit on the couch bench. “You had some food going bad so I figured I might as well clean up.” He explains.

“Thanks, baby girl,” You draw out the girl, a southern twang coming through. Rolling his eyes, he watches as you kick your shoes off and toss your duffle bag into your bedroom before joining him on the couch. “How was the case?” Lugging your legs up to the spare room around you, you lay your head on his shoulder while he opens his laptop again and huffs. Not good, then. 

“It’s the Elvis guy,” You quietly sing as he’s watching the footage again; that alone answers your question. The case isn’t even close to being finished. Yikes. 

“It’s not him.” He insists, mindlessly scrolling through the stolen footage. “I’m starting to lean towards the woman I interviewed first, but I’m sure I’ll solve it before tomorrow.” As he speaks he’s biting back a yawn. 

“Wanna take a nap, clear your head and shit?” You ask as you stand up. It was a long drive from Florida to Gotham and you were honestly beat. Probably another hour or so before your body took over and you knocked out. 

“Of course,” He grins and you nod, taking a quick shower. 

Naps with Tim aren’t anything new. He falls asleep often (you think there’s something medically wrong going on but what do you know) and you’re not going to leave the perfect opportunity to get a little sleep slip right past you. So, he’s gotten accustomed to dropping on your shoulder and sleeping; which naturally progressed into the two of you napping on couches or beds together. But only if you were seriously beat. 

Joining Tim on your bed you find that he’s still awake but slowly falling asleep. Waiting up for you, his eyes peer towards the door as you enter and he lifts the sheets up for you. Joining him, you lay on your stomach, letting your body relax as he sleeps on his side, his back facing you. 

Rolling onto your back, you let out a small sigh and turn your head to look at him. 

“Stop staring,” He whispers, turning so now he’s facing you. With hardly open eyes, he stares at you, waiting for you to look away from him. Smiling, you make it a point to look away and turn away from him, raising the covers to your chin and trying to dig yourself deeper into the plush bed. Now he’s staring at you, almost pulled in towards you. 

Tim knows he likes you. He thinks he’s laying his hints down well enough, he thinks he’s being romantic with his actions. He’s so sure you know that you’re just waiting for the right moment to ask him. 

You aren’t. 

Because you don’t know. 

You’re not oblivious by any means, you know when someone likes you. But with Tim, that’s just how he’s always been. You’ve known him as the kid who found out Batman because he was an amazing detective, the guy you’d go to if you wanted to find something or someone. He always had those tendencies, so it didn’t make you bat an eye when you became his latest target. 

It was like his acts of service and who are you to question it? 

That’s not to say you don’t like him back. 

No, it’s not weird that you’re sharing the same bed, chest to back. Yes, there’s plenty of space around the two of you, but what’s the harm in being close? 

The harm is that Tim isn’t focusing on falling asleep. 

You’re sound asleep, blissfully unaware of his qualms but Tim won’t keep his eyes off of you. His eyes trace the strands in your hair, settle on how you’ve accidentally shifted the cover down to your stomach with how much you kick. How you hardly dried off from the shower, favoring the peaceful sleep you knew was awaiting you instead of enjoying the privacy of your bathroom. 

His eyes follow and trace your body again and he doesn’t do it with any intentions other than curious ones. 

He doesn’t know where that shirt is from, he’s helped with your laundry before and he’s never seen that shirt but it’s faded enough that he knows it’s old. The collar is stretched out and the tag is sticking out, the words all but faded. It’s old and well-loved. 

It’s probably one of the clothes you left behind in your old apartment. 

Sighing, he closes his eyes and flips to his back, trying his best to fall asleep. It’s normally not an issue for him, he can fall asleep and wake up on command most days but today is different for some reason. Maybe he’s missed you so badly that his body won’t let him sleep until it’s felt he’s had enough time spent with you to make up for the absence. 

“Can’t sleep?�� You ask after he turns again, this time back to his original position. 

“Sorry,” He mutters the apology, doing his best to seem as though he was falling asleep. He flips onto his back to look at you, a tired gaze clouding your eyes. 

“It’s okay, I was hardly asleep.” You shrug and then make a face akin to a mischievous grin. “Wanna cuddle?” Looking at you, he tries to figure out if you’re joking or not. “But only if I’m a big spoon.” You add. 

“That works,” He nods and turns his back to you, awkwardly shuffling back as you shuffle forward. Humming, you wrap your left arm around him and settle your head on top of his, with your right arm acting as another pillow for his head. His hair smells like your favorite scent and you’re surprised you hadn’t realized sooner. But it is a little faint. 

“This good?” You mutter. 

“Mhmm,” He hums and you hum back, letting your eyes close again. 

—

Tim watches you as you work through the cameras; your day job is a normal, boring receptionist job at the hospital. You’re talking to a man while Tim is in the Batcave, his feet propped up on the desk and eyes strained to not blink. He’s thumbing through different angles and misusing Bruce’s tech to get information from everyone you talk to. All their records pop up to the screen on the left and he skims through them all. 

No one is dangerous so far, aside from someone who was recently treated for lice. It makes his scalp itch when he thinks about it for too long. 

“You should get a job,” Damian grunts from behind him. “This is creepy, even for you, Drake.” Tim waves him off, he’s not being weird. He’s just making sure you’re safe, that’s it. He also doesn’t care what the boy cleaning bloody swords has to say about his habits.

“I do have a job,” He mutters, switching the camera again. It’s time for your break and you’ll probably call soon. “I’m at Wayne Enterprises, running a team for the IT department.” The right screen switches to his work account where he’s running a code to fix his team's code. He’ll double-check it once he’s home. 

He watches as you fish your phone out and he prepares for the call but his phone remains uncalled. The screen is black and you’re clearly in the middle of a call, he squints and decides to check who you’re calling. It could be debt collectors or scammers, he’s just looking out for you. 

The number quickly runs through his database and he sighs, it’s fucking Bart. 

“-m, he won’t say no to you.” Bart laughs and Tim watches as you shake your head, leaning against the wall of the break room. 

“When you texted that it was an emergency, I assumed it was, you know, an emergency.” Oh, that makes more sense. Tim settled into his seat, you hadn’t preferred calling Bart over him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I think my fridge breaking is an emergency!” Bart shouts. “Please— ask Tim to buy me a new one! One with a screen and a double fridge. Please!”

“No-“ Bart groans loudly into the phone. “You’re not helping your case right now.” You chide.

“Frick you, man.” Bart hangs up and you stare at your screen before moving to call Tim. He grins, exiting out of your phone, and stares at his phone. It rings and he waits three whole seconds before picking up. 

“Drake is reaching new levels of creeper,” Damian tells Bruce as the older man walks into the Batcave. Tim pays no mind, walking away from the computer for privacy. “There are laws against these sorts of things.”

“Hey,” He ducks under Dick swinging around on a bar before messing with memorabilia on the shelves. “I was starting to think you forgot about me.” 

“You? Never,” 

—

You’re upset. Tim doesn’t know why but he knows you are. All of the lights are on in the boat and he can hear the bass in whatever music you’re playing. Had it been any louder it might’ve begun to rattle the windows. 

He knocks on the door for two minutes straight before he unlocks the door himself. You don’t notice, which is an issue in itself, but to your credit, you notice when he steps further inside. 

“What happened?” He carefully asks, the music lowering with several clicks from the remote. You shrug, not the worst sign of your mood, and shift over to invite him inside. “Work?” Nodding, he frowns. Of course, it would be the one day he couldn’t watch over the cameras that something would happen. 

“I got written up because I didn’t let this group of teenagers spit at me.” You explain. “You’d think working at a hospital they’d understand how nasty spit is. But apparently, they’re doctors, kids so it’s whatever.” Fiddling with your laptop, he catches the Job Finders tab hidden in a mess of random tabs. Good, he’s always hated that job for you. 

“Was it that manager with the yellow hair? Linny?” 

“It always is!” You exclaim, tossing the empty soda can into the trash can. “One more write-up and I’ll go on probation again.”

“You could come and work at Wayne Enterprises.” He offers, eyes rising slowly from the laptop to you... “I’m pretty sure I have an opening as a receptionist. Or other jobs… of course. In case you wanted a change of jobs.” You look at him, eyebrows raise and he offers a smile. 

“It is closer,” You trail off. 

“Benefits are great, too.” He grins. “And I’m not just talking about seeing me every day.” Pushing his arm, he laughs and closes your laptop. “I’m serious! You’ll get paid more, no one would yell at you because we never get anyone wanting to see us, and there’s sick time.”

“Okay, I’ll apply,” You give in and he cheers, holding you with one arm before shaking you. Laughing, you cover your mouth and push away from him. “But next week, I’m busy this week. You’ll put in a good word for me, right?”

“Of course, what else would I use my position of power for?”

“Let me shower and we can… watch a movie?” You ask and he nods, watching you leave. Once the shower turns on he fumbles with his phone. 

“B, can you give me a receptionist?… No, I know there’s no need but I kinda told (Y/n)—… Okay, and? Like you haven’t lied to anyone!… Please, I’m sorry. Just can you make that a job?… Oh, thank god!” 

—

A week later, Tim helps you send in a resume. Of course, since the official announcement of a new position, there have been dozens of applications. All of which Tim is in charge of reviewing. Not that you would know. 

You’re relieved when you get the interview— put in your two weeks when you’re told you’ve made it to the final interview stage— and sit with Tim while you’re waiting to hear if you got the job. 

Your phone rings as you’re pacing around the boat, second-guessing putting in your two weeks. Not really, though, because Linny had given you another write-up for clocking back in from lunch a minute late. You have Tim answer it for you and he puts it on speaker, watching as you hear the news you’ve gotten the job. 

“Okay, thank you so much!” Ending the call, you stare at Tim slack-jawed. “Tim, I could kiss you!” He stares at you for a moment before he shrugs. 

“Why don’t you?” He asks and you blink before licking your lips. His eyes follow before he does the same. “Not that you have to, because you got the job. I wouldn’t expect anything just because I put in a good word for you.”

“Of course,” You nod. “But is it weird that I still want to?”

“No,” He shakes his head, stepping closer. 

“Cool,” Tentatively, you cup his face and lean in. He meets you, eyes immediately closing as you kiss. His hands find yours, moving it down to his waist. He holds you there, relishing this feeling.

[nahoney22]

hi so I really love the way you write tech and was wondering if you could write some light angst and fluff with him and female reader for your 4,500 followers (congrats!) I was thinking maybe reader is really missing home and has a small radio type thing that she uses to contact them but one day it breaks. she asks tech to fix it but doesn’t really care too as he’s busy which silently upsets her more. maybe Hunter prompts him too since tech actually has a crush on her… or whatever you think flows best 🤭 but please can I have it so reader kisses him as a thanks? Thanks if you do this! Have a wonderful day 💚

possible prompt if you want to:

17: “I’m always blown away by just how talented you are.”

Thanks okay bye! 😊

Touch of Gold 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Tech X Female!Reader

word count: 1.4k

prompts:

• “I’m always blown away by just how talented you are.”

As the request asks 😌

warnings: Safe for work, fluff, light angst with reader missing home, mutual pining, friends to lovers, Hunter being supportive and a bro, first kiss, tech not reading emotions too well, accidental kiss

authors note: happy tech Tuesday! Enjoy @powertechmove 🩵

The steady hum of the ship’s engines was a familiar sound, one you’d grown accustomed to over countless missions with the squad. But today, it only seemed to amplify the hollow ache inside you. Sitting alone on your bunk, you clutched the small, battered radio in your hands—the last tangible connection to your family, to home. When it had stopped working days ago, it felt as though your whole world had shattered.

You’d tried everything you could think of to fix it, but your skills were no match for the intricate workings of the device. But there was someone who you think could help.

Tech, with his quick mind and adept hands, could likely repair it in an instant. He could fix almost anything, and that was one of the many things you admire about him. And admittedly also one of the many reasons you found him attractive, too.

But even knowing that, you hesitated to approach him. He was always busy, always absorbed in his work and the upkeep of the Marauder. You didn’t want to burden him with something that, in the grand scheme of things, might seem trivial.

Yet, as the days dragged on and the weight of homesickness pressed down harder, you could no longer bear it. Summoning your courage, you found him in the cockpit, tinkering with some equipment. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he adjusted his goggles, completely absorbed in his task. Even in deep concentration he looked so cute. Pushing the thoughts away, you approached

“Tech,” you began softly, not wanting to interrupt too abruptly.

He looked up immediately at the sound of your voice, his gaze sharp and attentive. “Yes? How can I assist you?”

You hesitated, holding out the broken radio. “My radio… it stopped working. I’ve tried to fix it, but I think it’s beyond me. Could you… maybe take a look?”

Tech took the device, his fingers gliding over its worn edges as he examined it. After a few moments, he sighed and shook his head slightly. “The internal components are severely outdated and damaged. Without the proper parts, I don’t believe I can restore it to working order.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, extinguishing the small flicker of hope you’d been clinging to. You tried to mask your disappointment, but your shoulders slumped involuntarily.

“I see,” you murmured, forcing a weak smile. “Thanks for looking, anyway.”

Tech nodded, already turning back to his project. “I need to return to more pressing matters.”

You bit your tongue, trying not to take his words too personally. He likely didn’t mean to sound so… dismissive. But as you walked away, the sense of isolation grew heavier. Without that radio, the distance between you and your loved ones felt even more insurmountable.

On your way out, you passed Hunter, who immediately noticed the change in your demeanor. He’d sensed your growing homesickness for the last few days. Naturally, he wanted to help. He wasn’t going to bring it up to you, but he had seen the way you looked at Tech thinking nobody was looking, how you lingered just a tad around him. He wasn’t going to do it just for your sake, however, but for Tech’s as well.

He made his way to the cockpit, where Tech was still engrossed in his work. “Tech, got a minute?” Hunter asked, his voice casual but with an underlying seriousness.

Tech glanced up, his focus shifting to the Sergeant. “What do you need?”

Hunter leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. “I want to talk about her,” he said, nodding in the direction you’d gone. He watched as Tech’s expression remained neutral, though he caught a slight tension in his posture. “Is she alright?”

“She seems well enough,” Tech replied, pushing up his goggles slightly. “Though her radio is broken.”

“And?” Hunter prompted.

“Unfortunately, it’s beyond repair without the necessary components, which I don’t have on hand.”

Hunter nodded slowly. “I get that it’s not an easy fix. But she’s been down lately, and that radio was her connection to home. Fixing it would mean more to her than you might realise we.”

Tech paused, considering Hunter’s words. “I understand the emotional significance, but I must reiterate that the repair is not simple. Besides, I’m occupied with other tasks.”

Hunter studied Tech for a moment longer, knowing how his mind worked—analytical, logical, always focused on efficiency. But Hunter also knew something else, something Tech might not fully grasp about himself. “Look, Tech, I’ve seen how you look at her. You care about her, even if you don’t always show it.”

Tech’s eyes widened slightly, and he straightened, clearly taken aback. “I assure you, my concern is purely professional—”

“Sure,” Hunter interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “But maybe this is your chance to show her you’re there for her. You might not be able to say it outright, but fixing that radio would mean the world to her. And it might just help you both cross that bridge.”

Tech fell silent, processing Hunter’s words. The idea of showing his care through action, rather than words, resonated with him. After all, he’d always been more comfortable expressing himself through his skills than through direct emotional communication.

“I understand,” Tech finally said, his voice thoughtful. “I’ll… reconsider the matter.”

Hunter nodded, satisfied. “That’s all I’m asking.”

The next day, Tech found you outside the ship, sitting on a crate and staring up at the stars. The vastness of space had always reminded you of how far you were from home, and today was no different. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice Tech until he was right beside you.

He called your name softly, causing you to startle. You quickly wiped at your eyes, hoping to hide the tears that had welled up.

“Oh, Tech,” you stammered, trying to compose yourself. “I didn’t hear you.”

Without a word, he held out the small radio, and your breath caught in your throat. “I managed to repair your radio,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “I was able to source the necessary components from some older equipment we had in storage.”

You stared at the radio, hardly believing it. “You… you fixed it?”

“Yes,” Tech confirmed, his gaze holding yours as he noticed the tear stains on your cheeks. “It should function properly now.”

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time from gratitude rather than sadness. You took the radio from him, your fingers brushing against his as you did. “Thank you, Tech. I don’t even know what to say. I’m always blown away by just how talented you are.”

A faint warmth danced across Tech’s cheeks, though his expression remained composed. “It was the least I could do,” he replied, his voice a bit softer than usual.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“There’s no need. The repair was quite fascinating, actually…” he began to explain, launching into the technical details of the repair. But you could only watch him, a sense of awe and affection growing as you listened.

Overwhelmed by emotion, you leaned in to kiss his cheek, wanting to show him just how much this meant to you. But as you did, Tech, likely calculating the movement or perhaps just reacting instinctively, turned slightly into you, and your lips ended up brushing against his.

Both of you froze, eyes wide in surprise. Tech blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. But before he could say anything, you quickly pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his tone hurried. “That wasn’t my intent—”

But you silenced him by gently placing your hand on his cheek, guiding him back toward you. No words were needed, and you leaned in, kissing him again, this time with intent and certainty.

The kiss was soft and tentative at first, as if both of you were testing the waters. But then, as if some unseen barrier had finally been crossed, it deepened, filled with the unspoken feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His hands rest nervously on your hips, suppressing a quiet moan in his throat as you tilt your head just a touch, your lips dancing together beautifully.

When you finally parted, both of you were a little breathless, a little flustered. Tech’s usually composed demeanor was slightly shaken, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words.

“You don’t need to apologise,” you whispered, a soft smile playing on your lips. “I’m glad it happened.”

Tech’s expression softened, and for once, he didn’t overthink. He simply nodded, understanding what you meant without needing to analyse it. “So am I.”

Tags: @lulalovez @the-bad-batch-baroness @photogirl894

@whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani

[aloesarchives]

Two for the Price of One (JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Profanity, NOT POLY SATOSUGU X READER, Fem Reader and She/Her pronouns, ANGST, Angst for Satoru and Reader, Bittersweet ending for Suguru and Reader, HIGHKEY MISCOMMUNICATION, Possible OOC Satoru, abandonment issues if you squint really hard, Reader slowly losing herself, Reader feeling depression/hopeless(implicit), Reader's has a healthy dynamic with her clan

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader/Suguru Geto x Fem!Reader

AU: Canon

Pronouns: She/Her(Reader's clan has a unrealistic healthy and understanding relationship with her)

Word Count: 6.1k words

Summary: Gojo's lack of coping caused you to drift away and eventually depart after Suguru's defection from Jujutsu Society.

(A/N): I know it doesn't make sense and will make many frustrated with how dumb this is. I just wanted to write my emotions out with this one, okay? I know this wouldn't slide but I'm a sucker for these scenarios. Edit: Since I've been getting positive reactions from you guys, I decided to take out the cringe/unrealistic out of the warning/tws lists. I truly love and appreciate you, loves!❤️

[!!Semi-edited & Proofread!!! 2/8/2024 4:04pm CST]

It was hard on all of you.

More so for you and Satoru.

Ever since Geto’s massacre and defection, the higher-ups and Jujutsu society have been scrambling to get the chaos under control. Having a special grade user become a curse user was sounding red alarms as there was an immediate threat to present-day Jujutsu sorcery.

You knew something was up with Suguru. You did; your observation wouldn’t allow things to go unnoticed. It was a bit here and there, but never a significant concern. You tried coaxing him gradually to open up to you, but your efforts were fruitless. No bells were ringing until the post-Plasma Star Vessel incident. You felt the shift in Suguru’s aura; you noticed his lifeless stare—the growing dark circles around his eyes surrounding the tiny flicker of life left inside. 

You tried being there for Suguru. You did anything and everything to accompany him and not leave him alone. It was selfish of you. To be desperate for your best friend to lean on you for support and not to go down a destructive path. You became even more worried when Haibara returned cold with a frustrated and traumatized Nanami. It was becoming more evident of Suguru’s deteriorating condition, you to confide in Shoko and even Yaga-sensei. 

Grief is like love, a twisted parasitic curse. Even though a year has passed, your grief was a malevolent spirit that latched itself onto your shoulders with a vice grip. A bitter reminder of how Suguru never said goodbye to you. He technically did with Satoru. But it was more of him telling Satoru that he was severing ties with Jujutsu Society by questioning him with his newfound powers. All you got from Suguru was a simple letter Shoko gave you at your dorm. She was with you as you read it. Tear droplets stained the paper, words smeared, and became unreadable. Out of pure frustration, you ripped the paper in half—the tearing of paper cut through the sickening silence. Shoko hugged you as you sobbed in the aftermath. While you were mourning the loss of your friend and your lives together, you were also mourning your life after this would never be the same. It would only get worse from here. 

 Satoru is tossed onto multiple missions left and right, never catching a break.

And there was you, trying to return to your regular school life. Or how every day can it be now? One of your best friends just murdered an entire village and his parents, and the other one is overworking himself to the very bone. Shoko being there for you was a surprising one, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Given that she was the first one Suguru said goodbye to, she understood his actions.

The problem was trying to tell Satoru about it, but he would brush it off, saying that maybe it was the change in weather or sickness. When you tried to explain there was more to it, Satoru would wave his hand at you, saying, 

“You’re overthinking too much, (Y/N)-chan! I’m sure Suguru is fine. We just have to give him some time.”

Though the tone was light-hearted, it provided no comfort. You know Satoru was suffering as well. Individuals process trauma differently, after all. You were seeing this first hand. 

Satoru was overcompensating to the world of Jujutsu with his enlightenment, overworking himself and burying his pain through that charismatic mask he now dons. Suguru is the most common one: Insomnia, isolation, and depression. He slowly became a lifeless husk. On the other hand, you were coping by trying to move forward while acting like a rock for them. Despite the hard transition, you didn’t deny your trauma as you slowly worked to process and navigate through it. You had the support of Shoko, your teacher, and even your clan/family stepped in to support your mental health endeavors. They went as far as providing you with a therapist, who was also a sorcerer.

But you all were suffering in silence.

A year has passed since Suguru left, and you were getting by. You, Shoko, and Satoru would graduate in the third year and officially become Jujutsu Sorcerers. Yet, at this point, it felt more like only you and Shoko. Satoru still attended class and hung out, but missions mainly preoccupied his school life. He recently returned from Hokkaido, only to be sent out again. This time, however, it was somewhere in Western Europe. That’s on the other side of the world. It would only be for a week, but still. You wanted him to rest or take a break, as he never did– not since the incident.

He wouldn’t be leaving for another seven days, so you had enough time to be with him. Yet it was challenging because Satoru didn’t let up. The ravine he created kept opening, the distance stretching far and deep, pushing you away.

Just like Suguru.

You didn’t want to lose Satoru. You almost did, becoming a grim reminder of how much you cared for Satoru Suguru. To fall for your best friend was a betrayal. You didn’t mean it, but Satoru did things that made your heart warm and fluttered. Suguru was the first to catch on; he saw your crush a mile away. Confiding in Suguru about it, you found solace in his words– feeding into an enviable delusion. 

Unbeknownst to you, Suguru's eyes were able to hide his longing for you as you rambled about Satoru and your latest hangout together. Suguru always thought you and Satoru had a special connection—your two powerful chemistry and how you bounce off each other. He presumed Satoru had mutual feelings, but nothing was said. Once he left, he knew you had his heart. There was no space for anyone else to fill it but you. And Suguru was more than willing to live with reality. If the girl who gave his life light is with his best friend, so be it. He would settle with the heartache as long as you were happy.

But you weren’t happy at all.

Over time, you started questioning whether the life of a Jujutsu Sorcerer was worth it. Yes, you were born into the world of Jujutsu, and it has been your whole life. But the last two years radically changed that. You were already exposed to this life's dangers and cruelty; prepare to face it head-on no matter what. Yet second thoughts became third thoughts. Then, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. The more you challenge your initial mindset, the more doubts seep into its cracks.

Why should I continue when I am nothing more than a placeholder in this world?

How can I save everyone if I can’t save one person?

Where is the meaning in all of this if I’ll just die alone and be replaced and forgotten?

Was this endless cycle of Jujutsu Sorcery even worth it?

You wondered if Suguru shared the same thoughts to push him to his decision. Now, you don’t blame him for leaving at all. It was grime. It was depravity. It was futile. You only stayed because you had your clan. You had Yaga-sensei and Shoko. But most of all, you had Satoru to shoulder the burdens of the Jujutsu world.

That’s. . .what you thought. . .

You decided to go to Satoru’s dorm to check up on him. Maybe squeeze a hangout in there. Gently knocking, you hope he was there since you couldn’t sense him around the campus. There was faint shuffling on the other side, signaling he was. You softly call out to him as you knock again. Once opened, Satoru greeted you in his school uniform. You found it odd since he’d switched to his comfortable clothes after school hours. 

“Hi, Toru! I just came by to see how you’re doing. The mochi store we always go to releases its seasonal flavors today! Why don’t you come with me? I heard one of your favorites returned, so I didn’t want you to miss it.”

“I appreciate the thought, (Y/N). But not today, I’m sorry.” Satoru said with a smile.

You couldn’t pinpoint his smile, tittering on, sad and strained. A tinge of uneasiness settled inside your heart, but you still wore your smile to not let it surface.

“C’mon, Toru! You don’t know if they will sell out today. Plus, the weather is great. I heard some festivals with food stands are opening up because of that. It wouldn’t hurt to go out just this once, Satoru.”

Satoru’s smile disappears at your insistence, replacing it with a fine line. His mood change didn’t sit well with you. You had previous attempts to get Satoru to care for himself. However, this is different from all your others because the band that holds your desperation began to wane itself thin. Your solid composure falters in bits. Your bright aura slowly dimmed as your now chapped lips twitched.

“Satoru, I know that you’re busy. Always on missions, meeting the higher-ups, your clan needing you more than ever, you have your hands tied. But it wouldn’t be too much just to enjoy yourself. Just come with me today before you go to Europe next week. It’s been a while since we hung out together.”

“Look (Y/N), I don’t really have time for this. I need to head out now, or it will get dark. Maybe another time–”

Then something inside of you snaps. You didn’t know whether it was your desperation or uneasiness, but assumed both because your facade crumbles to reveal your emotions.

“You always say later, Satoru, but never do! You haven’t taken a break in months! You’ve gotten paler, and your under-eyes are darker than before! You’re pushing yourself too hard and beginning to neglect yourself. Toru, Please! I’m worried about you! You know I can always help you–”

“For the love of God, (Y/N)! Can you STOP TALKING?! GOD, YOUR VOICE MAKES MY EARS BLEED! LIKE HELL YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND MY RESPONSIBILITIES!”

 It was never your intention to snap. But the way Satoru was acting paralleled Suguru. Eat, sleep, and go on missions. It was always those three, the same ones Suguru was subjected to that became a factor in his defection. Satoru was caught in the vicious cycle that pushed Suguru over the edge. 

On top of your crippling fear of Satoru sharing the same fate as Suguru, Déjà vu struck you. Desperation emerged from within as you didn’t want to lose him, breaking your resolve before him. Desperation was fear in another form. 

You weren’t the only one to reach a breaking point. Satoru snapped as well and at you, of all people. You guessed it was from all the stress and emotions he bottled up that exploded there. What Satoru was experiencing was valid and understandable; you knew this. Yet to blow up at you was uncalled for as you made it clear you’re only helping. Your eyes sting as you feel the formation of tears ready themselves, biting the inside of your bottom lip to keep your voice from breaking.

“B-but. . .Satoru. . .I w-was only trying to–” You stuttered out, forcibly pushing out words to fill the silence.

“Help? You were trying to help, (Y/N)?”

Once saying that Satoru let out a sarcastic laughter that could be mistaken for madness. Horror took over your face. Pain-filled eyes were glossed over, showing your tears could spill at any moment. His laughter abruptly stopped, making it so quiet that only your staggered breathing could be heard. He meets his eyes with yours with the most disdain you have ever seen.

“Do you think you could help when you’re just dead weight? You thought you were on par with Suguru and me. Get that out of your stupid little head of yours (Y/N). You were never strong like us.”

“You don’t mean that, right, Satoru?” You said incredulity as you reached out for him. Only for your hand to freeze before him, not going any further. A chill flashed over you, adding to the aching that enveloped your soul.

Did he– Did he just use his infinity on you?

“Oh, but I do. Now, I need to be somewhere. Do yourself a favor, (Y/N), and don’t bother me with your weak presence.”

And before you knew it, Satoru was already gone. He had used his teleportation to get to where he was needed. Leaving you alone with the door to his dorm wide open. The sounds of the crickets took over. They were paired with your small sniffles, furiously wiping away your nonstop tears. 

Were you weak to him?

Have you really been holding everyone back?

Were you that much of a nuisance to him?

Is this how Satoru really felt about you?

Has he always felt this way?

You never saw utter detest and contempt from Satoru. Your previous interactions had him irritated or annoyed, but never like this. This was the first time Satoru had blown up on you, let alone given you such a reaction. Before, you’d repeatedly remind him of your support and help. But it always ends the same way, pushing you away. After what happened, this will be the last time you’d do this for him. 

You were once told that you can’t help someone if they aren’t reaching out for help. And this was a bitter example of it. Your efforts in having Satoru lean on you bore nothing. What’s the point in continuing this if nothing changes after multiple attempts?

You were tired, drained, and indifferent. Your tears keep falling as you enter your dorm, not even stopping as the sound of nature lulls you to sleep. 

You let two days pass to let Satoru calm down and give him space. No interactions or anything to pass some time. You would try to contact him for the next four days after that. But your texts were left unanswered and on read. When you tried calling, your call went straight to voicemail. He blocked your phone number, too. 

 The weight of your doubts and Satoru’s words the other day are fueling your impulsivity. If Satoru called you weak and dead weight, other sorcerers would think so, too. If you become a thorn in their side, you’re doing them a favor by pulling yourself out for them. Even if Satoru didn’t mean it, you knew there was some truth to it because he kept his infinity up. You could never forget how his blue eyes lit through his pitch-dark glasses as he spoke down at you. Giving away that he was conscious and level-headed when he said those words.

You were losing the war against your intrusive mind. Your doubts and thoughts gradually solidified in your consciousness. In the course of time, they won and consumed your psyche.

If becoming a jujutsu sorcerer would get in the way of others, then being a sorcerer wasn’t for you.

With your last attempts to contact Satoru, you have made your decision. A day before Satoru departs for Europe, you decide to pay your clan head a visit. It was sudden and unannounced; nonetheless, they allowed an audience with you. 

They let you speak your mind, allowing whatever you need to be released and run free without judgment. Thus, you confided in them about everything.

This was too much; all of it was too much for you to bear any longer. You couldn’t see yourself as a sorcerer any longer after dealing with what you had experienced. Every day was a battle for you, and you lost every single one. You admitted you didn’t have what’s left of you it in you to shoulder the responsibilities of the Jujutsu world. You didn’t want the life of a jujutsu sorcerer anymore. You wanted one of peace, not having to fight every day. To enjoy the rest of your days as a regular civilian.

Confiding also in missing Suguru dearly and how his departure left a hole in your heart that could never be healed. You weren’t strong enough to face the horrors and hardships anymore and wish to live a peaceful life. 

Although your clan head was shocked at your confession, they were understanding and asked if this was something you truly wanted. An unwavering ‘Yes’ left you, and your clan head nodded. They gave you a choice: to go after graduation in a few weeks or leave now. If you leave now, they will deal with the rest as you finish the important schoolwork. It was just a waiting game with missions sprinkled throughout.

You could wait before leaving, but that’s wasting time. If you weren’t going to continue your life here, you might as well get a headstart now in your new one. You finalize your decision with the head. They said they would have some members pick up your stuff from your dorms tomorrow morning, but you said it wouldn’t be much. As you took your leave, you told them you would keep in touch with the clan. 

“What are your plans for what happens next, (Y/N)?” They curiously asked with your back facing them.

“Hmm, I don’t know exactly. But I have an idea, (Clan Head’s Name). Thank you for everything that you’ve done.”

With a reassuring voice, you turn to respectfully bow before leaving their room. Though they never said it out loud, they saw how your eyes were soft, like tremendous pressure was relieved from your body.

Thinking about it as you leave the estate, you never mentioned your fight with Satoru. Though it wouldn’t change anything. That night, you packed your dorm in your suitcase. Only leave your bedsheets, a pillow, and a few desk appliances behind. Your closet and drawers were empty of any clothes you had. By 10 a.m. tomorrow, any trace left of you would be gone. As you write a letter to whoever finds it about your whereabouts, your thoughts return to Suguru. To playfully think he did the exact same thing before his defection. 

You looked at your school uniform as it hung on your door. You contemplated taking it with you but decided against it. You wanted no strings left attached when you leave the world of Jujutsu Sorcery.

Morning came as you stared at the room you once called your own. The remainder of your things are packed in cardboard boxes for your clan members to get later. You glance back over to your desk as your school uniform is neatly folded on top of it. Your lips are graced with a sentimental smile as you close the door one last time. 

As you walked along the campus, fleeting memories of your days here flooded your mind. You reminisced on the areas and places you spent your youth with your friends and classmates. Now you’re leaving Jujutsu Tech and the Jujutsu World forever. Never to come back. You get to the main entrance of the school.

Before taking another step, you sensed someone behind you.

“So you're leaving, too, (Y/N)?”

It was Shoko.

“Yeah. . . Shoko. I’m going. . .”

She blows out a large smoke cloud from her cigarette, giving you a blank look before sending you a smile.

“At least say goodbye to me. . .I don’t blame you for going. . .” Shoko adds as she holds out her arms. You chuckle at her gesture and give her a hug. By the slight firm grip you felt, she didn’t want you to go, but she couldn’t stop you either.

Once you break away from the hug, you remember something and fish out a folded paper in your bag. You handed it to Shoko, and she eyed it curiously.

“I was going to leave it in my dorm for someone to find, but I thought it would work better if I gave this to you if I ran into it on my way out. My clan is sending members to get the last of my things, so I won’t return to my dorm. Sorry I had to make you the messenger again, Shoko.” You bittersweetly said.

You find it ironic that your departure is similar to Suguru’s. Shoko is the first to see you two go while giving her a letter for the others to read. You laugh as you think this over.

Oh, how history repeats itself.

Shoko tucks away your letter before taking a drag from her smoke.

“Does he know about this?”

You knew she was referring to Satoru. You shook your head no, still have a small smile.

“No, unfortunately. Satoru and I got into a arg– disagreement a few days ago. I don’t know if he’s okay with me to begin with, as cowardly to say. The only ones that know are you and my clan head.”

She hums at your response before going for another drag.

“Your phone number still the same?”

“I don’t really plan on changing my phone number. Even if I do, I’ll text you the new number so you can give it to the others.”

“I see. . .See you around, (Y/N). Keep in touch, will ya?”

“I will. I’ll see you around then. Bye, Shoko.”

Giving Shoko one last hug, you wave goodbye as you leave Jujutsu’s High entrance, disappearing from view. Not daring to look back because regret might come if you did.

Shoko watches from afar, her cigarette being halfway done. She takes one last puff before extinguishing it with the bottom of her shoe. She looks at your letter. The paper was crisp with no wrinkles like it had been fresh from the printer. From this, Shoko knew you had written it recently, no hesitation evident on the page itself. Unlike Suguru’s, her fingers tighten on your letter as she sighs while entering the school.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“What brings you here? He’s a busy man.”

“I’m just an old acquaintance of his. Just a simple chat. It won’t take long, I promise.”

The pretty attendant raises a brow at you as she guides you to one of the rooms. She looks you up and down before facing forward again.

“You have a substantial amount of curse energy. You have a curse technique then; aren’t you a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“I…used to be…but not anymore…I chose to leave that life. I’m just a civilian that has a curse technique.”

You see the attendant smile out of the corner of your eye at your answer. 

“I see. Geto-sama will be happy to take audience with you then.”

You shouldn’t be here. You knew that. Walking in taboo territory could get you hunted down by the very society you were born into. It’s not a secret of Suguru’s position as both a curse user and a cult leader. You remember hearing about him reforming a cult that worshiped Tengan but dissolved after the incident. You found it interesting he hasn’t done collateral damage yet. No incidents or missions revolving around curses terrorizing civilians. Perhaps he was going for something on a larger scale, you thought.

But you missed Suguru dearly. Not in a sentimental reminiscing way. More as in yearning for him entirely. Everyone tells you it’s not the same with Suguru gone, obviously. Yeah, but Suguru plagued your mind after his defection. You want nothing more than to see him again. Yes, things couldn’t go back to the way they were. But you didn’t like the prospects of what your future would hold if you stayed.

You disagreed with Suguru ridding the world of non-sorcerers. But you also understand and agree the current Jujutsu system is a dumpster fire that will never work. At the end of the day, only those the higher-ups favor will get to stay while the rest are sent off to die. You didn’t want to take part in that. You valued your life to know it shouldn’t be tossed around so easily by some dementia geezers who can’t even fight. And yet, you felt a tinge of regret for not staying to fix or break the system. Your only option was to leave and not involve yourself anymore.

The attendant takes you to the room, saying he will arrive shortly. Leaving you alone, you felt your heart race. You hope Suguru doesn’t kill you because he can sense your curse energy. Yet his letter was heartfelt and raw. His apology and the paragraphs after them were for you and you alone, like a confession. Even though you ripped the letter, you keep the two halves. Strangely enough, there was an address and a few words at the bottom of the page. 

‘You know where to find me.’

Here you are, waiting for him with the same letter he sent. As you wait, you can feel his energy get closer. You stare down, kneeling, the letter shaking like a leaf in your hands.

Then the door opens.

You let out a small gasp, not daring to look up as the footsteps approach his seat. A soft chuckle fills the room as you keep your head low.

“I thought I was mistaken when I felt your curse energy. But I now know my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. Please, lift your head so I can see you (Y/N).”

Your gaze meets Suguru’s soft eyes and warm smile. Both genuine and kind. His eyes widen before returning back to soft when he sees the tears trickling down for your lovely eyes he could get lost in. You stumble to stand, practically pouncing at Suguru. His embrace was like gates opening for you and closing once you entered. You softly sob into his robes as he holds you tightly. Comforting you by gently rubbing your back and hair, giving a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I missed you so much, Suguru!” was all you said before you continued to sniffle and hiccup into him.

Suguru hums as he pulls away to better view your face. You felt self-conscious as he lovingly gazed at you. Your nose and cheeks were raw from crying, and your eyes became an irritated red. Suguru smiles, wiping away your endless tears with his thumb.

“Oh, (Y/N). I’m sorry for leaving you behind. You understand, don’t you? From my letter?”

You nodded to respond. Holding the paper in front of Suguru. He notices the tear stains and ink smudges from the words he wrote down.

“I would’ve told you in person, (Y/N). Believe me. But I couldn't once they announced my charges. You would’ve been questioned as a possible accomplice. I didn’t want that for you. Do you know what it means for you to see me now?”

“Yes, I’m aware. But I left of my own accord; it wasn’t just for you, Suguru. I wouldn’t be able to last long if I stayed. So I decided to go, leaving it behind, all of it.”

He was a bit puzzled by what you meant. But it didn’t take long for him to piece it himself. Suguru figured something happened between you and Satoru but decided to stay silent out of respect. You both stare with relief and tenderness. Suguru gingerly takes your hand and places a light kiss on your knuckles. You set your unoccupied hand on his cheek, quietly giggling as Suguru leans into your delicate touch. He sighed in contentment. Bring your hand up again to kiss it as he wraps his free arm around your waist. His sincere smile radiates down onto you.

“I guess we have some catching up to do then, (Y/N).”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Satoru was in a better mood today than before.

Satoru cooled off his head after a couple of days from when he made that outburst at you.  He was stressed and tired of being continuously sent out on missions, and you did make a point that he hasn’t taken a break in months. He remembered what he said to you that evening, which made him feel guilty.

He knows he hasn’t been around because the higher-ups have sent him out like a work dog. It was now you and Shoko with him. The stabilization you two had on him once Suguru left.

You’ve been only trying to help him for a long time. Being there for him in your own way while coaxing him to hang out. Yet he took it for granted and said some vile things because his bucket decided to overflow then out of all the times it shouldn’t. You didn’t deserve that. You also didn’t deserve the silent treatment he gave you. He saw your text messages and listened to the voicemails you left. He did not answer because he was too prideful and stubborn to admit he was stressed and hurt you like that.

But sitting with his emotions and reflecting on how stupid he is for prioritizing his ego, he decided to cut down his pride and make it up to you. He unblocked your number and was going to call you. But he chose to just surprise you instead he chickened out. Satoru knew the European mission was a nuisance to his plans, so he had already taken care of it. By that, Satoru somehow teleported himself to where he needed to be in Europe, slayed the high-level curses, retrieved some curse objects, reported what he did, and teleported back to Japan in four hours.

He did all this at the last minute on the sixth day before Satoru was supposed to leave. He did this to stay and spend the whole week with you, make up for lost time, and give a proper apology.

Now, Satoru was strolling through Jujutsu Tech. He whistles as he holds a bouquet of (favorite flowers), a box with a (favorite color) bracelet with (favorite designs/charms), and a bag of mochi and daifuku for you two to share together. He walks around the grounds, trying to search you. He was told no classes today, so he went to your favorite spots. You weren’t anywhere.

‘Huh, that’s strange. (Y/N) would usually be in those places when class is not in session. I wonder where she could be.’

Satoru thought about dropping by your dorm but figured you were with Shoko. On the other hand, he couldn’t sense Shoko around either until Satoru felt it alongside Yaga-sensei. He sensed them in Yaga’s building, so he headed there.

Blissfully unaware of what would await him. 

Satoru clutches your gifts to one side as he opens the door to enter. His six eyes hadn’t kicked in yet, but something in the air felt off. His sun smile hasn’t dropped yet as he scans around, wondering why the two were quiet when he entered.

“Yo, Yaga-sensei, Shoko! I’ve been trying to look for you guys. By any chance know where (Y/N) is so I can give these to her?”

He looks at his teacher, and Satoru’s demeanor instantly changes. There, Yaga stood with his glasses off, clutching a piece of paper with a stern frown. Satoru turns to Shoko, a somber expression replacing her lighthearted one. Satoru just looked back and forth between the two before his eyes settled on the paper in his teacher’s hand. Satoru stands stunned, hearing his heartbeat in his ears grow louder and louder. The air from his lungs disappeared as realization dawned on him. 

Satoru clenched his teeth as he teleported to your dorm room, the clap resonating throughout the hall. He burst open your dorm door, and to his horror, your room was empty. The room was stripped of everything that made it yours. The closet and drawers were emptied, and your desk and bed were bare of anything from you. What used to be your dorm is now an empty dorm room, ready for the next person to claim it. He frantically looks around in hopes of finding any reminds of you.

Then, he spotted your old Jujutsu High uniform, laying neatly on top of your old desk. Satoru just stares, not daring to pick it up. Because if he did, he would’ve broken down. He can’t stay there anymore, to which he teleports back. He bears his pearly white teeth as he closes in on his teacher.

“Where the hell is (Y/N)?” Satoru lowly said.

“Gone, Satoru–”

“I know she’s gone! But where?! Why the hell is all her stuff gone?! Her room is completely empty!”

“Satoru,” Yaga tried calmly speaking, but he was clearly frustrated. “I know this is so sudden. But the (L/N)’s clan head said something came up with (Y/N), and they retrieved all her things. Her clan said they were going to deal with everything else.”

Satoru's breathing became staggered. He could hear it growing louder. He tried his best not to let his voice crack, but that made him angrier.

“Everything else? The hell does that mean, sensei? Why would the (L/N) clan withdraw (Y/N) from school?! School ends in a few weeks! She could have graduated with us!”

“It…wasn’t their decision, Satoru…It was (Y/N)’s…”

Suddenly, Satoru became flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This gotta be some twisted, cruel joke that was playing on him. His curse energy was flaring up, and his cerulean eyes lit lightly. The flowers from the bouquet were losing their petals, and his bag full of treats was getting smushed from his intense grip.

“What…?”

“The clan head said it themselves.”

“No…”

“She decided not to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer and leave Jujutsu society.”

“LIKE HELL SHE WOULD!!!” Just like that, everything came crashing down for Satoru. Not being in your usual spots on campus, the empty dorm; hell, he noticed your curse residuals becoming faint. The traces of them becoming weaker and weaker. Your presence here in Jujutsu High was fading faster than he could notice. The anger he built up showed itself as it was on full display. Honestly, Yaga and Shoko don’t blame him for his outburst. Satoru held you close, after all.

“Satoru, please.” Yaga pinches the bridge of his nose as he clenches his teeth. “I’m just as lost as you are. This came out of the blue…Her clan confirmed it, and she said it herself.”

Satoru slightly flinches when Yaga holds the paper out towards him. Gesturing for Satoru to take it.

“I didn’t read far into this because it felt like (Y/N) wanted someone else to read it.”

Satoru’s long fingers snatched the paper out of his teacher’s hands. His hands shake as he opens the paper up to see its contents.

It was a letter–from you.

His eyes slowly followed the words of your neatly written goodbye. His heart rips itself piece by piece as he continues reading. The guilt and shaming grew. He could feel the fatigue and jadedness from your thoughts. But the last paragraph makes Satoru’s heart hurt the worst. Your frustration was transformed into desperation for a new life, a fresh start. Away from the endless curses and scrutiny of the higher-ups, away from the pain and hopelessness, away from it all. You didn’t want to throw your life away. You just wanted to live. Then, you end the letter with an apology. Saying sorry because you couldn’t tell them your honest thoughts, for not facing them in your departure, for not trying hard enough for everyone when it was needed. Then, the last line of your apology made Satoru’s blood run cold.

‘Most of all, I’m sorry for being weak.’

He knew that line was for him 100 percent. You wouldn’t have written it down if he didn’t tell you. To Satoru, you weren’t supposed to be the one apologizing. It should be him. He was the one who yelled at you and said those cruel and discouraging things to you. The one who pushed you away and didn’t allow you a chance to help. Fuck, he had the audacity to use his infinity against you. How dare he do that to you, his best friend the girl he fell in love with. His teeth clenched so hard out of pure anger they could crack. The anger he felt for himself was tremendous. He was angry at Suguru, the higher-ups, and Jujutsu Society. Angry at himself for being so stubborn and prideful, for waiting too long to act and apologize. But above all else, he was angry at what had become of the situation. Fully knowing he could do nothing to change anything as already was set in stone.

If he hadn’t been so prideful, he would’ve apologized to you sooner. If he didn’t blow up at you, you wouldn't become broken and hurt. If only he didn’t push you away, maybe you would have stayed– stayed by his side. But ‘if onlys’ are regrets from the past of the current reality. Now, he is living in it with the consequences of his own actions.

This is the price Satoru had to pay. He lost the only remnant that got him through this world by pushing you away. He lost his only two best friends in the world with no way of fixing it. 

The price of becoming the strongest came at the expense of two of his most dearest friends.

Suguru was gone.

You were gone.

Forever with no signs of ever coming back to him. 

In the end, Satoru Gojo was, truly, alone.

[trixy812]

001 - Gossip is my passion

Tags: Nanami x fem!reader, fluff, funny, Sorcerer!Reader

Synopsis: A curse forces its victims to spill their secrets. This secret will be totally worth it.

An: Ok, this is the first fanfic that I write for this platform. I have written before… when i was 15? (kakasaku) Now I am 29. I had this idea for a while. Short and simple. I hope you like it. Maybeee… one day I’ll write smut. Let’s see how this one goes. Disclaimer: I am mexican that means my native language is spanish and since 2021 i've been living in Germany so, i've been speaking a lot of german.

The night was dark, and the only light in the alley came from flickering street lamps that cast disturbing shadows. A soft night breeze slipped between the trees as you and Kento Nanami moved silently; cautious footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestones, down the dark alley toward the last known location of the curse you had been assigned to exorcise.

It wasn’t the first mission you had shared with Nanami, but being by his side always filled you with a mix of nerves and excitement. Despite Nanami’s typical stoicism, there was something about him that always managed to stir butterflies in your stomach. He treated you with respect, even with a certain warmth, and on more than one occasion, he’d given you a compliment that made you wonder if, just maybe, there was something more. But you quickly talked yourself out of it; Nanami was always polite to everyone, and it was d e l u s i o n a l to think he might see you differently.

Your thoughts snapped back to reality as he turned to look at you, his eyes calm and focused.

"Remember, this curse feeds on the shame of secrets it pulls from its victims. Stay alert and don’t let it catch you off guard," Nanami said, his voice low and calm but filled with a determination you found fascinating.

"Understood. It was also noted in the report that if it keeps feeding on shame, it could turn into a special-grade curse." Nanami nodded with an "Exactly." You tried to stay composed, hoping to show him you were focused, but you couldn’t help getting lost in the deep sound of his voice.

Suddenly, the curse appeared, emerging from the shadows as a spectral, twisted figure. Its purple eyes glimmered, and a malignant energy seemed to shroud it, extending like a miasma, reaching into the minds of its victims.

Immediately, you both took combat stances, ready to neutralize it. Nanami lunged at the curse with precise, calculated movements, his expression cold and focused as usual. You tried to keep up with his pace, but a spark of admiration for him distracted you. It was inevitable; Nanami’s elegance and strength always managed to capture your attention, even in the most dangerous situations.

That fraction of a second when you were lost in watching him was enough. The curse noticed it and shifted its target: its cursed energy began moving toward you. Nanami realized this immediately and, without hesitation, stepped between you and the curse, raising his arm to block the attack.

“Pay attention!” he warned, his tone severe and concerned.

The attack hit Nanami before he could evade it, and in a second, the curse began extracting a secret he had never imagined revealing under ANY circumstances.

An invisible force compelled him to speak, and, with a voice controlled by the curse, he confessed:

“I have a secret folder of photos of y/n on my phone…”

The alley fell into a heavy silence. It felt as if time had stopped when you heard those words, and your mind struggled to process what had just happened. A folder of your photos? On Nanami’s phone? Your heart started pounding, and a warmth rose to your cheeks as you realized what that meant.

Beside you, Nanami seemed petrified, his usual stoicism replaced by an expression of shame. This wasn’t common for him; his emotional control was almost absolute, but this time the curse had broken through. The creature’s dark energy intensified, feeding on Nanami’s shame and growing stronger with every passing second.

You knew you had to act before the situation spiraled completely out of control. Without missing a beat, you activated your cursed technique, Empathic Trace, focusing all your energy on calming Nanami’s feelings. Instead of shame, you began transmitting a sense of peace and happiness to him. Without realizing it, you were sharing the relief and joy you felt knowing that he thought of you more than you imagined. His shame began to fade.

Feeling the calm and happiness, you transmitted, Nanami regained his composure. With renewed determination, he struck the curse, delivering a precise attack that disintegrated the creature in a single blow. The evil energy disappeared, leaving the alley in complete silence, broken only by the murmur of your heavy breaths.

After a few seconds, Nanami looked over at you, still recovering from the surprise. His face reflected a mix of seriousness and vulnerability, but there was something new in his expression. Slowly, he took a step toward you, and you felt a palpable nervousness as the weight of what you had just heard settled over you.

“y/n…” he said, his voice much softer than usual. “I hadn’t planned for you to find out that way.”

You looked at him, eyes filled with curiosity but also a shyness you couldn’t control. The words escaped you before you could stop yourself:

“So… it’s true? You really have… a folder of my photos?”

Nanami didn’t look away this time. Instead, he gave a faint smile, something unusual for him, and nodded with an expression that mixed confidence with a hint of flirtation you’d never seen from him before.

“Yes, it’s true,” he answered, his tone low and full of sincerity. “On every mission or moment, I see you doing something… special, I’ve saved photos to remember those instances. Each one is a reminder of the moments we’ve shared, of how…” He paused, his eyes locking onto yours, intense and deep, “how I have someone who matters to me more than I’d like to admit.”

Nanami took another step closer, closing the distance between you. He raised his hand and gently placed a finger under your chin, making you look into his eyes.

“So, I guess you might like to know that, aside from the photos, I’ve kept certain memories of you. And… ” he murmured, his voice low and deep, his gaze tracing your face with an intensity that made you tremble. You felt your heart melting with each word. Your face burned, but your courage began to take over, and before you could think, you stepped even closer to him.

“Do you know what secret of mine that curse might have revealed?” you said, your voice low and flirtatious as your hearts beat in sync.

Nanami raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question.

“No, what?” he replied, curiosity shining in his gaze.

With a mix of boldness and desire, you leaned close enough for your faces to be inches apart. The tension between you felt palpable, as if the world around you had disappeared.

“That I would’ve given anything to kiss you,” you whispered, and in a bold move, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was brief but electrifying, a spark that ignited the air between you. Nanami was completely caught off guard, his eyes wide open as you pulled away, feeling the world slowly return to motion around you.

Nanami stood in silence, his expression showing a faint blush he’d never revealed before. His normally calm eyes now watched you with something deeper, a mix of surprise and curiosity that you couldn’t quite decipher.

Not knowing whether to laugh or feel embarrassed, you gave him a small smile and shrugged, trying to lighten the moment. A hint of a smile crossed Nanami’s lips, but he quickly regained his composure. He turned back toward the path, casting you one last look that seemed to hold something unsaid.

“y/n… I hope we go on more missions together.”

[imaginesforfandom]

Unforeseen Love

i may be in my logan howlett era right now, but it's fine! just means some nice little fics for my fav X-Man!

Logan/James Howlett x Reader

They/them pronouns used!!

Summary: While on a mission with Logan, Y/N gets seriously hurt, leading to them being in the medical bay for several days as Hank helps them recover. Although Y/N and Logan had never gotten along, Y/N is surprised when Logan sticks by their side throughout their entire recovery. This ends in a heartfelt, sweet and loving kiss shared by the two!

Unforeseen Love

Logan Howlett, better known as Wolverine, grumbled under his breath as he and Y/N made their way through the dense forest. The tension between them was palpable, and it seemed like sparks could fly any moment. They had despised each other from day one, an inexplicable clash of personalities that neither could overcome.

Little did they know, a deeper connection existed beneath the surface. Y/N had a mutant ability akin to Charles Xavier's, but instead of delving into the thoughts of others, they could sense emotions. Logan, however, had mastered the art of keeping his feelings locked away, a shield that even Y/N couldn't penetrate.

The mission they were on required stealth and precision, a trait Logan excelled in. He led the way, his adamantium claws unsheathed, eyes scanning the surroundings with uncanny precision. Y/N followed, their senses alert but wary of the man they begrudgingly worked alongside.

As they moved deeper into the mission, the unexpected happened. A sudden ambush from an unforeseen enemy left Y/N injured and struggling. Logan's fierce protective instincts kicked in, and he fought with a newfound intensity to ensure Y/N's safety. In the midst of the chaos, a blade grazed Y/N's side, leaving them incapacitated.

The pain hit Y/N like a tidal wave, and Logan's gruff voice called out their name in concern. The world around them blurred as consciousness slipped away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Y/N awoke, the sterile scent of the X-Men's medical facility filled their senses. The pain in their side was dulled, thanks to the advanced healing technology. Blinking against the harsh lights, they groggily turned their head to find Logan sitting nearby, his expression etched with worry.

"Finally awake, huh?" Logan's tone was gruff, but Y/N caught a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

"What happened?" Y/N asked, feigning ignorance to the emotions swirling around them.

Logan hesitated, his usual tough exterior momentarily softened. "You got yourself hurt. It was touch and go for a bit, but Hank patched you up."

Despite the pain, Y/N couldn't help but notice the sincerity in Logan's voice. Their ability to sense emotions hinted at something more, something beyond the animosity that had defined their relationship.

"You were worried about me," Y/N stated, almost as if testing the waters.

Logan grunted, looking away as if annoyed by the revelation. "Don't get used to it. I just didn't want to babysit a rookie."

Y/N smirked, realizing that perhaps there was more to Logan Howlett than met the eye. As they lay in the medical bay, recovering from their injuries, the unspoken connection between them began to unravel. Maybe, just maybe, beneath the layers of resentment, there was a flicker of something else—an understanding that transcended words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days in the medical bay blurred together for Y/N. Their injuries were healing, but what surprised them even more was Logan's constant presence. He would leave only to return with food, grumbling about the lack of decent grub around the X-Mansion. As much as Logan tried to maintain his tough exterior, there was an unspoken tenderness in the way he cared for Y/N.

As Y/N lay on the medical bay bed on the third day, a subtle shift in the air caught their attention. It wasn't the usual mix of irritation and restraint that emanated from Logan. Instead, an overwhelming sense of love and concern filled the room. Y/N furrowed their brow, confused by this unexpected surge of emotion.

Logan entered the room, carrying a tray of food. His eyes met Y/N's, and for a moment, the gruff exterior wavered. It was as if a floodgate had opened, allowing Y/N to sense the depth of Logan's emotions.

"What's with the sudden outpouring of affection, Howlett?" Y/N teased, trying to hide the vulnerability that was bubbling up within them.

Logan scowled, seemingly caught off guard by the question. "I ain't showin' affection. Just making sure you don't die on us."

Y/N chuckled, but there was a knowing glint in their eyes. "You can't fool me, Logan. I can feel it, you know. The concern, the… love."

Logan's expression tightened, and he looked away. The barrier he had meticulously built around his emotions had crumbled, and there was no denying the truth anymore.

"I don't do this mushy crap," Logan grumbled, but his voice lacked the usual conviction.

Y/N sat up, a determination in their eyes. "Logan, you can't hide from me anymore. I can feel what you're feeling, and it's okay. More than okay."

Logan sighed, a rare vulnerability surfacing in his gaze. "Damn it, kid. You're messin' with my head."

Y/N reached out, gently cupping Logan's face. "Maybe it's time we stop fighting each other and admit what's been staring us in the face all along."

Logan's defenses crumbled further as Y/N closed the distance between them. Their lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss, a silent acknowledgment of the emotions that had been hidden for too long. In that moment, the unspoken bond between them deepened, transcending the animosity that had defined their relationship.

As they pulled away, Logan's gruff exterior softened, and Y/N couldn't help but smile. Sometimes, it took a brush with vulnerability to uncover the hidden truths. Love had a way of breaking through even the toughest of walls, and for Logan and Y/N, it was the beginning of a new chapter—one filled with understanding, acceptance, and a love that had finally been acknowledged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i'm pretty sure i'm in love with him.... but that's okay! also, i love how Logan is also an Albertan 😎💪

[snowysosturn]

Blowing Smoke - Matt Sturniolo

Pairing: y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n realizes her relationship with Matt has grown distant and hollow. After struggling to hold on, she sends a final goodbye message, accepting it's over. Trying to move on from a relationship while dealing with contrasting feelings of jealousy and freedom when thinking about Matt's new romantic interests.

Warnings: toxic relationship, breakup, jealousy

I sat on my couch, staring at the TV, but I wasn’t really watching. The soft flicker of the screen cast shadows across the living room, but the sound was muted. My phone was in my lap, the screen dim, notifications silent. I could still hear the last voicemail Matt left, the one I hadn’t been able to delete yet. His voice had been even, calm, like nothing was wrong. But I almost felt it echo in my apartment.

"Just wanted to check in. Miss you" he had said, the words almost mechanical.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the burning ache in my chest. The truth was, I wasn’t sure what he missed, because lately, it felt like we were just pretending everything was fine. The version of "us" I had built up in my mind had begun to unravel, but every time I thought of confronting it, I backed away, lying to myself that things would get better if I just waited.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, the weight of it all pressing down. I’d been holding onto something that was already slipping through my fingers.

The texts were sporadic now, and the calls even less frequent. Sometimes, when Matt did reach out, it felt like he was doing it out of obligation, out of some sense of duty to the version of us that used to be. I could hear it in his voice, the way his words lacked the warmth they once had, the way he filled the silences with meaningless chatter. There was no depth anymore. It was like we were both trying to keep up the illusion, neither willing to face what was actually happening.

I unlocked my phone and opened our iMessages. The last message was from a week ago. A simple "Sorry, busy this weekend." from Matt, with no explanation, no attempt to reschedule. I’d responded with an “okay” not wanting to push him. I knew he wasn’t busy. He just wasn’t bothered. But now, staring at that single word, I hated it. I hated how passive I had become. I had let this whole thing drag on for weeks, maybe even months, hoping at some point Matt would realise what we were losing.

But deep down, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Matt wasn’t going to change his ways. There was no more effort he was going to put into this. He brought so much baggage into our relationship, baggage I was willing to work through. But I can’t do it all for him. Sure, he might call or send a text now and then, but the emotional connection was severed. What we had before was gone, and I had been too scared to admit it.

It hadn’t always been like this. When we first met, things were easy. We clicked in a way that made me feel like I’d found someone who really understood me, someone who saw me for who I was. The late night talks, the spontaneous road trips, the quiet moments where we didn’t need to say anything at all. We spoke about our hopes and dreams, about our previous relationships, I opened up about how past partners have always seemed to let me down, and he took that opportunity to make me believe he would never do the same. I'd never felt so sure of something in my life. It fit the fantasy I always had.

But now? He just felt pretentious. Now it felt like I was constantly trying to reach him, but he was always just out of my grasp. Every time I tried to get him to open up, he’d brush me off with a joke, or worse, with silence. And the more he pulled away, the harder I tried to hold on. I was chasing something that no longer existed, and I was starting to hate myself for it.

I stood up, pacing the small space of my living room. I walked over to the window and pulled the curtain back slightly, looking out at the empty street below. The night was still, the air thick with humidity. I wanted to scream, to shake Matt, to make him see that we couldn’t keep pretending anymore. But I couldn’t. Every time I had the chance to bring it up, I chickened out, afraid that if I said the words aloud, it would make everything real.

I wanted to believe that he thought about me, that he missed me, that he was just as torn up inside as I was. But with each passing day, it became harder to convince myself of that. The Matt I knew - the one who used to make me laugh until my stomach hurt, who sent stupid memes in the middle of the day just to make me smile, was gone. Or maybe he had never really been there, and I had just been seeing what I wanted to see.

I knew what I had to do, and hoped it wouldn’t hurt as much as I thought it would losing Matt, but losing the version of myself that had existed when we were together. I wouldn’t miss the girl who didn’t second guess every word, every action, who didn’t feel like she was constantly on the edge of falling apart.

I grabbed my phone again, my fingers trembling as I opened his contact. I didn’t know what I was doing, didn’t know what I wanted to say. But I needed to say something.

Hey. Can we talk? I typed, then stared at the message for a long moment before hitting send.

My heart pounded in my chest as I waited, staring at the phone like it might explode. The seconds dragged on, stretching into minutes. No reply.

I let out a shaky breath, feeling the familiar sting of rejection settle in. I tossed the phone onto the couch and sank down beside it, pulling my knees to my chest once more.

I wished I could tell him how I really felt. That I was terrified of losing him. That the thought of not being with him made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t explain. But I also knew that if I said those things, it wouldn’t change anything. Matt would still be distant, still slipping further away, and all my words would do was confirm what we both already knew: that this was ending, and neither of us had the strength to stop it.

Hours passed, the night slipping away as I lay on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. My phone buzzed, and I scrambled to grab it, my heart leaping into my throat.

But it wasn’t Matt. It was my best friend, Emma.

You up? the text read.

I stared at the message, debating whether to reply. I didn’t really feel like talking, but at the same time, I couldn’t bear to be alone with my thoughts any longer. So I texted back a quick Yeah, what’s up?

A minute later, Emma’s name lit up my screen with an incoming call. I hesitated before answering, my voice thick as I spoke. “Hey.”

“Hey” Emma’s voice was soft, concerned. “I’ve been thinking about you. How are you holding up?”

I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m fine” I lied.

Emma didn’t buy it. “You don’t sound fine.”

I closed my eyes, the tears I’d been holding back threatening to spill over. “I just.. I don’t know what to do. Matt is pulling away, and I don’t think we can fix it. I keep waiting for him to come back, but he’s not. And I feel so stupid, like I’m the only one who still cares.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before Emma spoke again. “You’re not stupid. You’re just.. human. You’re allowed to care. But you can’t keep blowing smoke, pretending like everything’s okay when it’s not.”

My chest tightened at her words. Emma was right. I had been blowing smoke, convincing myself that if I just waited long enough, if I was patient, Matt would come back. But deep down, I knew the truth. He was already gone.

“I just don’t know how to let go.” I whispered, my voice breaking.

“I know” Emma said softly. “But sometimes, letting go is the only way to stop hurting.”

After the call ended, I sat in silence, Emma’s words echoing in my mind. Maybe it was time. Time to stop pretending, stop holding onto something that wasn’t real anymore.

I picked up my phone again, my heart heavy as I opened Matt’s contact one last time. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, and for a moment, I thought about typing out a long message, telling him how I felt, how much I missed him, how much it hurt to let him go.

But instead, I typed two words: Goodbye, Matt.

I hit send, then deleted his contact. It wasn’t closure. It wasn’t the ending I wanted. But it was the ending I needed.

I leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, the silence around me thick and heavy. I wasn’t okay yet, but I would be. I would stop blowing smoke, stop pretending that everything was fine.

I would learn to let go.

-

I stood in front of the mirror, pulling my hair into a loose bun, catching my own reflection in the dim bathroom light. Reflecting back on the last few weeks since I ended things with Matt,I had spent too many nights crying over him, too many sleepless hours replaying our last few months, trying to pinpoint the exact moment it all started to fall apart. But that was behind me now. 

I felt freer now. There was nothing left to hold onto, no reason to keep chasing after someone who had already made his choice. Matt had moved on, and if I was honest, so had I, at least on the surface. I bit the bullet, and it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Maybe that was because I had already felt the sting so many times before, watching him slip away slowly, his texts becoming more like formalities, his affection a ghost of what it once was.

But even though I had let him go, there was still that thought, one I couldn’t shake. It lingered in the back of my mind like a stain I couldn’t scrub out. The thought of him kissing someone else. I hated it. I hated the thought of his lips on hers, hated that I could picture it so clearly even though I’d never seen it happen. It was a wound that reopened every time I allowed myself to think about it. I had to tell myself this was all for the best, that eventually it would all make sense, but some part of me still cringed at the thought.

I wondered if he was with her now, trying to shake off the jealousy that curled around my heart like a thorny vine. I could picture it too clearly - him, standing in her doorway, while she lay on her bed waiting for him. I clenched my jaw. I’ve seen the pictures of her on Instagram, it made me wonder if she was just as pretty in real life. The thought hit me like a flash of cold water. I usually would never go searching for this new girl online, I never wanted to put myself through that kind of self-inflicted comparison, but this time I couldn’t help myself.

They don’t even strike me as two people who have much in common, what do they even talk about? That was the thing about Matt, he could fake it so well. He had a way of making you feel special, like you were the only one in the room, even if his mind was somewhere else. And I knew, deep down, that he wasn’t really in it with this new girl either. It wasn’t about connection. It was about a new thrill that allowed him to avoid the weight of everything he carried, the emotional baggage he was too scared to unpack.

But people always bought it. Matt had always had this way of shining, of standing out, even when he didn’t try. But his light wasn’t real. It was a reflection, bouncing off the surfaces of the women he charmed, hiding the darkness underneath. I knew what he was. I’d seen it. I knew how he pulled away when things got hard, how he used other people to bury his problems instead of dealing with them. I let out a soft sigh, I knew Matt was doing what he always did - running. Running up another hill, to another girl who he would put on a pedestal for a short time, who would help him hide from the pieces of himself he didn’t want to face. He wasn’t looking for love, he was looking for escape. I wondered how long it would last this time, how long before he felt the weight again and started drifting away from her too.

I leaned against the sink, staring down at my hands. I knew something the new girl didn’t. I knew everything Matt kept hidden, everything he’d tried to drown it behind his easy smile and surface level charm. I knew about the nights he couldn’t sleep, about the way he’d freeze up whenever things got too real, too close. I knew that no matter how far he ran, no matter how many women he kissed, he couldn’t outrun himself.

And that was the difference between me and him. While he's out sleeping around, I'm sleeping alone. And I’m completely fine with that. At least one of us is healing, and not drowning our sorrows on nights out, looking stupid. I thought bitterly, picturing him at some bar, flashing that bright smile at someone new, pretending like he had it all together, throwing himself at anything that’s got a pulse. The thought stung, but it wasn’t far from the truth. Matt wasn’t looking for something real anymore, he was looking for something easy, something that didn’t ask too much of him.

I smiled to myself, a small, bitter smile. I knew Matt. I knew he wasn’t as carefree as he liked to pretend. I knew eventually, he would think of me , late at night, when he couldn’t sleep. He’d think about the way he had left things unresolved, about the girl who had seen him for what he was and still loved him. He’d think about me, and he’d feel something, maybe not regret, but an emptiness that the new girl couldn’t fill. He’d feel the weight of it, even if he never admitted it to himself.

I shook my head, knowing that Matt was just going through the motions, letting this new girl believe she was special, letting her think she could be the one to fix him. But I knew better. I had been that girl. I had thought I could fix him too, thought I could be the one to make him stay. But Matt wasn’t someone who stayed. He was someone who drifted.

They’re just blowing smoke, I thought, brushing my hair back from my face. Like history repeating itself. I imagined the new girl’s friends, telling her how lucky she was to have found someone like Matt, how charming he was, how sweet. But it was all an illusion. They didn’t know him like I did. I know everything they don’t.

And that was my power now. I knew the truth. I knew that Matt wasn’t the perfect guy he pretended to be. I knew about the insecurities he hid, the emotional distance he couldn’t bridge. And knowing that, really knowing it, made it easier to move on. Because I could see him clearly now, without the rose tinted glasses I had once worn.

I stood up straight, looking at my reflection one last time. I wasn’t the girl who had fallen for Matt anymore. I wasn’t the girl who had waited for him to come back, who had spent nights wondering where she had gone wrong. I was stronger now. I had let him go for my own peace of mind, and for the first time in a long time, I felt free.

I turned off the bathroom light and walked into the quiet of my apartment, my footsteps light. Matt could keep running, keep searching for something that would never fill the void inside him. But I was done. I didn’t need to chase after someone who was always running away.

I knew the truth, and that was enough.

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss

[tsumuus]

The empty restaurant echoed with laughter and nostalgia as former teammates reunited. It had been several years since the first years had graduated, and tonight was a rare gathering of the old Karasuno volleyball team. The room buzzed with conversations and memories, but amidst it all, you found yourself drawn to Shoyo Hinata.

You had been the team manager throughout high school. Despite not being particularly close to Shoyo due to being a grade above him back in school, tonight seemed different. Maybe it was the way he still smiled that infectious smile, or how he effortlessly lit up any room he entered. Whatever it was, you found yourself spending most of the evening catching up with Hinata.

The hours slipped away unnoticed as you both reminisced about matches, shared jokes, and exchanged stories of what you'd been up to since graduation. It was easy, the conversation flowing effortlessly between you. It wasn't until the room started to thin out that you realized how late it had gotten.

"Wow, time really flies," Hinata remarked, glancing at the clock. "I guess we've been talking non-stop, huh?"

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's been great catching up."

Hinata hesitated for a moment, his expression turning thoughtful. "You know, there's something I've always wanted to tell you."

Curiosity piqued, you raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What is it?"

He scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, back in high school... I had the biggest crush on you."

Your eyes widened in surprise, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Really? I... I had no idea."

"Yeah," he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, you were older and we weren't that close, so I never said anything. But looking back, I wish I had."

A warm smile spread across your face. "Funny enough, I admired you a lot too, Shoyo. Not just as a volleyball player, but as a person. I think... maybe near the end of my third year, I started to realize it was something more than just admiration."

Hinata's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and hope flickering in them. "You did?"

You nodded, feeling your heart beat a little faster. "Yeah, but by then, it felt like it was too late to say anything."

For a moment, silence hung between you, filled with unspoken words and the weight of missed opportunities. Then, Hinata broke it with a shy smile. "Hey, what if it's not too late?"

Confusion flickered in your eyes. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath, his gaze earnest. "I mean... what if we give it a shot now? My feelings, they never really went away."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, emotions swirling inside you. Could it really be that simple? After all these years?

"I... I think I'd like that," you admitted softly, a smile tugging at your lips. "A lot."

a/n boutta spam post all my brain dumps/blurbs i wrote while on vacay soon so be ready lol :)))

masterlist

[formulauno98]

Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Six / Tuesday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: 🌶 This one is spicy, 18+ only. This is going to be a slow burn and if you're uncomfortable with the idea of two-timing don't read this.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this.

TUESDAY MORNING

The unexpected interruption jolted you. George's expression hardened, his grip on your hand tightening reflexively before he dropped it and moved to sit down on the bed. You exchanged a quick glance with him before you moved to open the door.

Toto stood in the hallway, his usually composed demeanour now tinged with uncertainty. His eyes met yours, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face, concern, regret and something deeper that you couldn't quite place.

"Can we talk?" Toto asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, aware of George's presence sat on the bed behind you. He remained silent and brooding, his eyes fixed on Toto.

“I’m not sure if now is the best time. Can we talk in the morning?” you asked, knowing that you needed to explain the situation to George and disappearing with Toto would send the wrong message.

After a tense moment, Toto replied, “Fine. I will see you in the morning. Sleep well.” 

Closing the door once more, you turned to George to explain yourself further, only to see that he’d flopped down fully clothed, fast asleep. 

Sighing, you set about getting ready for bed, knowing that when he woke up in the morning, it was going to be more than awkward.

– – – 

You woke up in the warm embrace of George. His touch was gentle, his mind only on one thing as he snuggled closer, his hand caressing the curve of your thigh. A wave of surprise washed over you. Considering what you revealed to him last night, you hadn’t expected this reaction.

“Morning beautiful,” he said. A very odd reaction indeed.

"Morning,” you murmured, before adding “You’re perky this morning, do you remember anything from last night?" trying to keep your tone casual.

George groaned softly, shaking his head. "Nope. The last thing I remember is dancing with you. Everything after that is a blur. I couldn’t tell you how we got back here. How about you?”

Guilt gnawed at you. Deciding not to fill him in entirely, you forced a smile. "Things are hazy. Must have been the drinks," You extricated yourself from his embrace, knowing you needed some space to think. "I need a shower, I’m hanging badly," you lied.

“Ugh me too,” said George, “I’ll snooze for a bit, maybe shower after breakfast. I doubt Toto has anything planned for today.”

Nervous at the mention of Toto, you nodded as you disappeared into the bathroom, “Yeah probably not. Everyone drank a lot.” 

– – – 

Heading to breakfast, hand-in-hand with George, you had a knot in your stomach. The thought of facing Toto was daunting and you weren’t ready for that difficult conversation. A small part of you hoped that he’d be hit with the same alcohol-induced amnesia as George but deep in your heart, you knew it wasn’t the case. He hadn’t been anywhere near as drunk as the others and had appeared sobre when he’d knocked on your cabin door.

As you joined your fellow guests at the breakfast table, it was clear that they were all nursing severe hangovers, worse than the previous morning. James was silently sipping his coffee with a haunted stare, Cara had dark sunglasses on, her head hanging low and John kept rubbing his temples. Marion was nowhere to be seen, presumably too delicate to make an appearance.

Toto, conversely, looked wide awake, alert. “Good morning,” he said, somewhat stiltedly.

“Morning boss,” said George chirpily, causing Toto to raise his eyebrows.

“You’re in fine form this morning,” he said, his eyes not leaving yours as he was clearly trying to suss out whether George was onto him.

“I slept like a baby! I don’t know what was in those drinks but it was some strong stuff,” said George, “I was just saying that I honestly can’t remember how we got back last night. 

Toto’s eyebrows raised even further, turning to you, “And do you?”

Stuttering you blinked, “It’s a little blurry here and there.”

“Interesting,” said Toto, still looking at you transfixed, your fellow guests distracted enough by their hangovers that they didn’t clock the awkward interaction.

Throughout breakfast, he continued to look at you with an intensity that made you almost uncomfortable and as George was chatting to James and the plates were being cleared, he asked you in a low tone, “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” you said cooly, “Maybe you can show me the sea kayaks you were telling me about?”

Getting the message, Toto raised his voice, “Ah yes, the sea kayaks, I’ll show you them now and you can take them for a spin later  if you’d like?”

‘Great,” you said, your smile not meeting your eyes before turning to your boyfriend, “George, love, Toto mentioned he has some sea kayaks we can take out later. He’s going to show me where they’re stored and how to take them out, is that cool?”

Oblivious, George waved you off without a thought, "Yeah sure, go ahead, sounds cool. I'm going to take a shower in a bit anyway."

– – – 

Away from the group, Toto's steely manner shifted, his expression warming considerably. "I kissed you last night," he started, his voice low and apologetic. "I shouldn't have, considering George."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "Yes, I know and I felt guilty. I told George when we got back, but he doesn’t remember."

Toto looked taken aback. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to complicate things or to upset you. I couldn’t help myself though. Have you not felt the same way these last few days?"

His question caught you off guard so you told a white lie, "No. I was too drunk last night to know what was going on. It was just a drunken mistake. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

Disappointment flickered across his face, "Not at all. In that case, I should be the one saying sorry. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. It’s been refreshing to talk with someone not about racing.” he paused for a moment before adding, “But yes, let’s put it down to a drunken mistake."

You nodded again, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Great, well if that’s all, I should go."

You turned and made the great escape before Toto could say anything else. As you made your way back towards your cabin, tears began to fall, what on Earth were you going to do? 

TUESDAY AFTERNOON

Fully repaired after the storm had damaged the electrics, the yacht had successfully headed back out to sea, setting sail for one last round of the Mediterranean before returning to dock in Port Hercule. You’d had a lazy day spent sunbathing and reading a book, trying to clear your mind. 

In the late afternoon, you got up and stretched on the lounger you’d spent the last few hours on. Deciding it was time to get up and do something, you thought a swim might do the trick, "Anyone interested in going for a quick swim before dinner?" you asked the group.

“I don’t think I can physically move.” groaned Cara, “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m done for,” said John, equally as lethargically, “We’ll come tomorrow.”

Much to your despair, Toto volunteered, “I’ll come.” he said, sitting up on his lounger.

“George?” you asked, hoping he would join you.

“I’m working on my tan,” he said, stretching out luxuriantly. “Tomorrow I’ll come.”

“No worries,” you said, not able to back out of it. You gathered your things, kissing George on the cheek as you left, "Go. Enjoy." he said, quickly returning to his sunbathing, unbothered.

– – – 

Reluctantly, you found yourself alone with Toto once again, diving off the back of the boat, Toto following close behind. You swam out a little way, the tension palpable.

Floating ten metres from the boat, you felt the presence of Toto in the water beside you, "Sorry, I thought George would want to come too.” he said apologetically, “And it was weird to change my mind immediately.”

Your eyes softened, “No, don’t be silly, it’s nice to have some company.”

Toto quirked his eyebrow, “I didn’t get that impression this morning.”

Turning to face the older man, you sighed, “I’m sorry. Last night was… something. It was surprising. That’s all. And I feel guilty because of George…”

Toto looked at you, his eyes full of concern, “I feel guilty too. I shouldn’t have kissed you. George is my employee and my friend but I just couldn’t help myself. As I said this morning, getting to know you has been interesting. It’s the first time in a long time I find myself enjoying talking to someone.”

Surprised by his admission, you weren’t sure how to respond. 

Filling the silence, Toto swam a little nearer, his voice dropping low, “Look, one last question and we will never speak of this again. It’s driving me crazy talking like this over and over.” he paused, looking you dead in the eyes, “Do you love him?”

You couldn’t respond. The silence stretched between you, heavy and laden with unspoken feelings. Glancing up at the sun deck as if to check no-one was looking, Toto swam even closer, approaching you gently, one hand gripping your waist, pulling you close to him, and the other caressing your face. "Do you honestly feel nothing?" At that, he leaned in for a kiss, his touch tender, softer than the passion of the night before.

Breaking the kiss, you gazed into his dark eyes, shining warm amber in the late afternoon sun, finding them sincere. “Toto…” you started, before catching his lips once more, wrapping your leg around his torso as he effortlessly kept the two of you afloat with his free arm.

Time froze as you remained locked together, intimately embraced as the waves lapped around you. It was then that you knew. You had fallen out of love with George. George didn’t kiss you like this, he didn’t make your stomach lurch with butterflies. It was too early to tell if you loved Toto - Christ you’d only just gotten to know him, but you knew the potential was there.

The kiss growing more heated, you forced yourself to break apart, “Hang on, we need to stop.”

“Why,” asked Toto, growling as he pulled your leg further up his torso, grinding into you under the water, his growing hardness apparent.

You let out a moan, your heart not wanting to stop but your brain telling you otherwise. “It’s not the place.”

Reluctantly, Toto released your leg, “Sorry, I was getting carried away.”

“Don’t be silly,” you said, reaching up to cup his jaw as you pressed a chaste kiss once more to his lips, “I was too. But we just can’t. Not unless I end things with George.”

Looking somewhat deflected, Toto released you entirely, returning to treading water by your side, “You’re right. This is so not right.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, you’d of course heard his infamous “Michael, this is so not right.” during a Grand Prix a few years ago. Realising what he’d said, you were surprised to see his face tinged pink. 

“Sorry for laughing,” you said, stopping your giggles, “But look, let’s not do anything stupid.”

“Agreed.” said Toto, his face stoic, “Shall we head back to the boat?”

“Sure,” you said, keeping a careful distance between yourself and Toto as you swam back towards the yacht, your head racing with thoughts.

What you hadn’t clocked was the figure on the sun deck, leaning over the railings, mouth hanging open having witnessed your and Toto’s intimate moment.

TUESDAY EVENING

That evening, dinner was more relaxed, with the group discussing plans for your final day at sea. Plates were filled with delicious food and the air buzzed with an easy camaraderie, the previous nights’ shenanigans well and truly breaking down any remaining airs and graces.

You settled into your seat beside George as he leaned in intently to listen to what Toto was planning for the following day. After what had transpired in the water, you couldn’t quite look the tall Austrian in the eye as he proposed taking the jet skis out for the day. 

James nodded in agreement, "Jet skiing sounds fun. We could also set up a race. You know, just for laughs."

Rolling your eyes at the forever competitive older man, you knew George would not be able to resist the idea of a race. As if on cue, he nodded eagerly, “I’m down for a race.”

“Such a surprise,” you said dryly under your breath, Toto smirking at your comment.

Raising an eyebrow, Cara seemed to share your sentiment, "Friendly competition, right? Count me in.”

Sipping her wine, Marion nodded, "Agreed. But maybe first some sunbathing on the deck. I was all for a chilled morning."

Toto clapped his hands together, “Then it’s settled. Tomorrow let’s relax in the morning and a jetski race in the afternoon.”

George agreed enthusiastically, "That sounds fantastic. We could set up a course around that island we passed today. Start here, loop around the buoy near the cliffs, and back."

Nodding, John chimed in, "Yeah and let’s time each other. The winner gets bragging rights for the rest of the trip."

“The rest of the season,” said George mischievously, knowing that he would likely have the edge.

Stroking his chin, James added, "We could add some challenges too, maybe a slalom through some buoys.  Keep it interesting."

“Are you guys ever not competitive?” you asked, the men denying it in unison. Shaking your head and laughing, you stole a glance at Toto, noticing his dark eyes lost in thought.

Breaking eye contact, Cara leant across the table to clink her glass with yours, "Here’s to our silly other halves."

Marion raised her glass in tandem, "Cheers to that.” before turning to Toto, “ And to good friends."

Smiling at everyone, Toto raised his glass in turn, "Indeed. Cheers. Thank you for making this week very enjoyable. We needed this break."

You raised your glass, joining the toast to the memories you had made together. As the conversation shifted to other topics, you caught Toto’s eye across the table. He gave you a reassuring smile which you promptly returned. The butterflies were back.

Clearly privy to this moment, Cara suddenly piped up, “So how was your swim earlier?” she turned to you pointedly, “I saw you two out there, it looked like you were having fun.”

The blood drained from your face. No. She couldn’t have seen. Could she?

You exchanged a worried look with Toto, Cara’s face lighting up as she knew it meant that the two of you had been rumbled.

“It was lovely thank you.” you said politely, “Actually, we spotted an interesting island, if you’d like to see it I can show you from the sun deck?”

Catching your drift, Cara nodded, “I would love to, maybe we can head up before dessert comes out?”

“Great idea.” you said firmly, excusing the two of you from the table, George looking a little confused at your sudden departure and Toto shooting you a look as you disappeared up the stairs behind Cara.

– – – 

Once you were up on the sun deck, safely out of earshot you turned to Cara.

"Okay, spill it. What's going on?" she asked, “I saw you two canoodling in the water. How can you do this to George? What on earth were you thinking? Has this happened before?”

Feeling overwhelmed by the barrage of questions, you paused before admitting, "I don’t know. Like I told you, things between George and I are… not great. And then last night at the club, Toto and I... we kissed. I don't know what came over me."

Cara listened quietly, her expression turning serious as she processed your confession. Her eyes narrowed, “So then you went in for seconds today?”

“It wasn’t like that.” you said quietly, “I told Toto that we shouldn’t.”

Cara raised a perfectly pencilled brow, “But you did it anyway. Look I will say this once. These things happen, but you need to sort this out. George is a lovely lad, he doesn't deserve to be messed around.”

You nodded, tears welling up, feeling somewhat cathartic after sharing your guilt, “I know. I feel terrible about this."

Seeing your regret, the older woman’s expression softened as she gently put her hand on your arm, "Okay darling, take a deep breath. We'll figure this out. Just... be honest with yourself about what you want and who you want to be with."

You nodded gratefully, thankful for Cara's understanding and support. 

"Be careful though," she advised. "Toto is much older than you. You’re probably smitten because of all of this,” she gestured around the yacht, “If you’re not happy with George, end things first. Don’t jump into something with Toto. He’s likely only after a fling. I’ve never known him to be serious about any woman since his divorce and even during his marriage he had a wandering eye."

Her words left you at a loss. Had you misjudged Toto? After all, what kind of man pursues a woman who is already taken? Let alone one taken by someone who works for him.

“I will be,” you said, thankful that the woman seemed to be level-headed. “Thank you, Cara, I hope you don’t think badly of me.”

“Not at all,” she said kindly, “I can see it’s upsetting you, but equally, please be careful.”

You smiled, the warmth of her friendship offering comfort amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you.

She turned suddenly, "Let's head back before they send out a search party. You've got a lot to think about young lady."

“Indeed,” you said, following her back down to the dining table where thankfully the chat was flowing freely once more.

Settling back down in your seat, George barely registered your return so you found yourself once again chatting away with Toto. This time talking about dancing, having shared opinions on the music last night. 

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” asked Toto, leaning in with a smile.

“Self-taught.” you teased, “How about you?”

He smirked, “Years of practice, I suppose.”

“Well you got moves,” you said with a smile.

“If only you knew,” he said suggestively, dropping his voice so only you would hear, your companions deep in conversation around you, oblivious to the overt flirtation. 

Blushing furiously, you tried to steer the conversation back to more innocent territory, “So a jetski race tomorrow huh? Think you have what it takes to win?”

Ever humble, Toto chuckled, “Probably not. George and James will have the edge. Perhaps I can beat John, Cara and Marion. You, I’m not so sure.”

You laughed, “Wanna make another bet?”

“Why not?” Toto asked, amused at your competitive streak.

“If I beat you, you have to jump off the boat and skinny dip tomorrow night.”

Toto quirked his brow, “And if I beat you, you are going to do that?”

You chuckled, not having thought this through, “Hm, maybe not.”

“Why not?” he asked, “It makes the race interesting.”

“Ok, deal.” you said, your eyes sparkling, taking his hand in yours to seal it “I’m ninety per cent sure I’ll beat you anyway.”

“That’s confident,” he said, dropping your hand, “Something you probably don’t know, I used to rally.”

Fuck. Maybe the bet was not so wise after all.

“What are you guys shaking on? Making a bet?” asked George, suddenly noticing your exchange with his boss.

“Yep.” you said, “On who will be faster tomorrow? We all know you’re going to win but for us normal folks, we’re spicing it up.”

George laughed, “I’m not sure about that, a jet ski is a bit different to a car. Besides, you’re much lighter, I reckon you have the weight advantage.”

“Are you calling me fat George?” said Toto, his eyes widened in mock horror.

“No, no.” said George, backtracking, “Well, you’re much taller. And all muscle. Very muscular. Yes not fat. I mean no… not fat.”

The table were now all engaged in your exchange and laughed at George’s furious backpedalling.

“What’s the forfeit?” asked John.

“To be decided,” said Toto tactfully, not wanting to share the true nature of the bet.

“Walking the passerelle?” suggested James with a laugh.

Toto’s eyes sparkled, the irony not lost that James wasn’t far off your wager, bar the nudity clause “Yes, let’s say that.” 

– – – 

Later that night you found yourself lying in your bed in your cabin, unable to sleep once again, heart pounding with uncertainty. George had quickly drifted off to sleep beside you, wrapped up in the duvet, looking cosy as a bug. 

You had to talk to Toto. Despite the easy banter at dinner, the kiss, his confession and Cara's words swam around your mind. With a deep breath, you slipped out from under the covers, careful not to disturb George. Quietly, you tiptoed across the cabin, pulling on a bathrobe and snuck out into the narrow corridor, trying not to make a noise as the wood beneath your bare feet creaked.

Toto's cabin wasn't far. You navigated the dimly lit hallway, your thoughts racing as you approached his door. With a hesitant hand, you knocked softly, hoping he was still awake.

After a brief moment, the door opened a crack, revealing Toto's silhouette against the soft glow of his cabin lights. His eyes widened slightly in surprise before a warm smile spread across his face.

"Can I come in? We need to talk," you said, keeping your voice low, not wanting to wake anyone.

Toto nodded silently and opened the door wider, allowing you to slip inside. The master cabin was spacious and elegantly appointed, a stark contrast to the cozy simplicity of yours. Toto closed the door behind you, the latch clicking softly into place.

You stood awkwardly in front of him, painfully aware that he was wearing nothing apart from a tight pair of boxers. Of course, you’d seen him in swim shorts but this was much more compromising. You gulped, he wasn’t making your life any easier standing there looking like that.

Noticing your awkwardness, he crossed the room, taking a seat on the large bed, “Sit down,” he said, patting a spot next to him, “What's on your mind?"

You perched on the edge of the bed, nerves fluttering in your stomach. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension, the weight of recent events hanging in the air. You were very much aware of the fact that you were now sitting with a half-naked Toto on a bed. A very handsome, half-naked Toto. One move and you could be back in deep water.

Stealing yourself and meeting Toto’s gaze, you spoke to him from the heart, "Today... what happened between us. I don't know how to explain it. I shouldn't have..."

His voice gentle, Toto surveyed you, "It's okay. We talked about it. You don't need to apologise."

You shook your head, "But I do. Cara saw us. She knows."

Toto looked at you wearily, “You snuck out of bed to come and wake me up and talk about Cara?”

Taken aback, you retorted, “No, what I’m saying is I don’t know what to do. She told me some things about you.”

“Like what?” Toto asked, curious.

You sighed, “Basically she told me to be careful.” 

Breathing steadily, Toto looked at you fondly, "And you think she’s right?"

“I don’t know,” you said helplessly, fighting not to react to the fact that Toto was edging nearer to you. "I feel so confused. About everything."

"I understand. These situations are never simple." Toto offered up, his eyes darting down to where your bathrobe was gaping, offering him a view of your skimpy nightdress.

Silence settled between you, the gentle hum of the yacht's engines filling the cabin. Toto's eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of understanding and something more difficult to define.

"What do you want?" he asked breathlessly, leaning closer.

Answering him wordlessly, you brought your lips to his, this time your lips locking in fiery passion. 

Breaking the kiss, he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you said, shaking slightly, not having planned to do this when you’d snuck out of your cabin.

“Well if you insist,” he said, suddenly scooping you up and throwing you back onto the bed so you were now splayed out underneath him, your bathrobe flapping perilously open to reveal your thin cotton nightdress that left little to the imagination.

Dipping down, he kissed along your neck, whispering in his deep voice, “But this has to come off.”

Tugging at the belt, you got flustered as you tried to extricate yourself from the terry-towelling prison, Toto growing impatient and pushing it down off of your shoulders as you finally managed to untie the knot.

Hands exploring everywhere in the heat of the moment, Toto’s hands quickly found your breasts, palming them through your nightdress, setting you on fire. You reached around, clasping one hand around the back of Toto’s neck, pulling him closer, the other grabbing at his broad shoulders. 

As you kissed once more, Toto began to grind his hips into yours, his hardness more than apparent as you gyrated underneath him, desperate for contact.

Just as you were starting to find a rhythm you froze suddenly, painfully aware that you were about to cheat on your boyfriend. This was not just so not right, this was downright wrong. You glanced towards the door, a pang of guilt tugging at your heart. George was fast asleep in the cabin down the hall, unaware of your clandestine activities.

Noticing your hesitancy, Toto stopped, his hands dropping to your waist, holding you tight. “Are you okay?” he asked, for the first time looking nervous. “If you want to stop we can.”

Torn between feeling guilty and wanting to carry on with what you were doing, you looked up into Toto’s eyes, the warm brown meeting yours with concern.

“I’m more than fine,” you said, leaning up to kiss him once more, too far gone to stop now.

As the kiss deepened, Toto began to divest you fully of your bathrobe, then making quick work of peeling off your nightdress and throwing it wildly behind him, leaving you in nothing but your lace panties underneath him. Shy under his gaze, you shifted a little awkwardly, feeling exposed.

“You.” he kissed your neck, “Are,” he kissed your collarbone, “So,” he kissed your breast, pausing to take your nipple in his teeth, “Beautiful.” he kissed your stomach.

The sensations drove you wild as Toto parted your legs gently and kissed his way lower and lower, from your stomach to your hip, pausing to lift up your legs and pull your underwear off before continuing to kiss you all the way down to where you were now dripping wet.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” he said, seemingly mesmerised. He took a moment to gaze with admiration before kissing his way from the inside of your thighs all the way to your core. His tongue lapping gently as he found your sweet spot.

“Fuck.” was all you managed as he went to town, his tongue skillfully swirling, expertly flicking your clit. “Fuck,” you exclaimed again, grabbing a handful of the sheets you were lying on.

Toto came up for air, his eyes almost black with desire, “Tell me how you like it.”

“Keep doing that.” you breathed, never having felt like this before. You felt another pang of guilt. George never did this, never made you feel like this.

His deep laugh rumbling against you, he continued his ministrations before coming up for air. “Sit on my face,” he commanded, his authoritive tone making you blush.

“Huh?” you asked.

“Sit down on my face,” he said, sitting in front of you before twisting around and grabbing your legs so that you were now straddling his face. “Sit down and smother me.”

Bracing yourself against the headboard, you did as he asked, his tone hard to resist. His strong arms held your legs apart and pushed you down, your thighs wrapping around his shoulders as you pushed into his mouth.

It was heaven. His tongue lapped gently, exploring, making your stomach do backflips.

You couldn’t stop moaning and it seemed the more vocal you got, the more enthusiastic he became, pulling you tighter to his face with every grind of your hips.

It wasn’t long before you were seeing stars, his tongue setting you on fire. “Fuck, Toto.” was all you managed to say as he pushed you up, his mouth wet with your pleasure.

“Gladly,” he said, promptly moving your legs off of him, pulling off his boxers and coming up to kneel behind you, his prominent bulge digging into you as he pressed up against you tightly, your legs pulled apart straddling around him as you sat on his lap. “Focus,” he said, lifting you up and teasing you with the tip of his cock.

He continued caressing your breasts, nipping gently at the patch of skin behind your ear as he lazily rubbed up and down, agonisingly slowly. “Toto,” you said, your voice hoarse with need.

“Yes,” he rumbled, right against your ear, “Tell me what you need.”

“Fuck me,” you begged, discontent with his slow teasing.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, lifting you up off his lap once more before easing himself in, taking things slow and pushing in inch by inch to allow you to adjust to his size.

“Fuck.” you breathed, “Fuck, this is nice.” As he bottomed out, you felt full, complete even.

“Nice?” he taunted, nipping at your ear lobe “That’s all?” 

“You know what I mean,” you muttered, starting to impatiently move your hips, grinding down onto his lap.

“Is this nice?” he asked, before lifting you up and slamming you back down onto his lap, making you feel as if you were about to be split in two.

“Yes.” you breathed, barely prepared when he did it once more, and then twice “Fuck.”

Slowing down, he pumped up into you, starting to find a rhythm, one hand creeping forward to caress your clit. Oversensitive already, you were almost on the brink from the first touch. “Does that feel good?” he asked, his voice vibrating through you as he continued to thrust in and out.

“Fuck yes,” you said, moving your hips against his, bracing yourself once again on the headboard.

“Hang on,” he said, suddenly pulling out, leaving you disappointedly empty before grabbing you by the waist and flipping you over onto your back.

“I want to see your pretty face,” he said, lining himself up once more, entering you again, this time at a relentless pace, leaning down to kiss you as he found a new, faster rhythm.

All you could do was lay back and try to meet his thrusts, his muscular build pushing you further and further back up the bed.

“Ouch!” you said, as one particular thrust had your head crashing into the headboard.

“Fuck, I am so sorry,” said Toto, slowing down, kissing your head where you’d banged it and impatiently grabbing a pillow to stack behind you, “Sorry, overenthusiastic.”

“I’ll survive,” you said, pulling him down for a deep, sensual kiss.

It wasn’t long before you were reaching your second orgasm of the night, losing yourself in pleasure, your bodies moving as one. 

You could sense Toto slowly throbbing slightly, nearing his own high so you slowed down, pre-empting.

“I’ll pull out,” he said kindly, “But I need you to cum for me first. Cum for me.”

Once again, his domineering instructions had you on the precipice and coupled with a few, short, sharp pumps, he pushed you over the edge once more, your entire body shaking as you experienced one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

You barely had the chance to recover when he expertly pulled out, tugging a few times before he too found his completion, warmth spreading over your lower stomach.

Collapsing beside you, he leaned across and kissed your forehead before getting up to the bathroom to go and grab a towel. Returning shortly after, he wiped you down gently, making sure to clean up thoroughly before dipping back down to pull you in for a cuddle, his strong arms wrapped around you.

You lay there in content silence before he broke it, “That was… I don’t know. Fuck, you are out of this world.”

Smiling, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, tasting yourself, “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Looking pleased by your admission, he drew you in closer, enveloping you from behind. You snuggled contently, not wanting the moment to end but knowing that you had to leave so as to not arouse suspicion. What had you done?

Taglist: @prettiest-at-the-party @noooway555 @annewithaneofthegreengable  @xoscar03 @totowolfffcheco @justzluv @kravitzwhore @bborra @a-beaverhausen

[quimichi]

Hello! I really love your writing, and I'm honestly a bit nervous to request, so I hope I do this right. Could I maybe ask for Lyney and Freminet with a Creator!Reader who's touch starved? Creator!Reader hasn't received a lot of physical affection in their life so they get really emotional if someone holds their hand, hugs them, plays with their hair, or anything really. Just a lil self-indulgent fluff idea I had. It's totally okay if you decide not to take this request for whatever reason! And I hope you have a good day/night (whenever you see this) <3

↳ ❝ [YOU'RE TOUCH STARVED] ❞ - and so is he

Lyney, Fremint x Creator!Reader

Lyney

Lyney is curled up against your side, pressed against the warmth of your body, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. His breathing is even and his expression soft as he snuggles into your embrace. He's happy to stay like this for as long as you'll let him. Lyney's eyes are half-closed, and he seems to be dozing peacefully. It feels great...perfect even, for so long you haven't felt anything like this. He's leaning against you in a tender, trusting manner, the weight of his head on your shoulder. One of his hands comes around you, and he holds you gently in his embrace.

"I....haven't been touched like this for...centuries" "Mmm... " Lyney's voice is as soothing as a gentle breeze. He sighs contentedly, his arms wrapped around you as his body relaxes against you. He lays his head back against your chest, his hair blowing softly with each rising breath.

"It's nice... I hadn't felt anything like this in a long, long time either..."

"This," he says softly, as though half-asleep, "this is bliss". Lyney's eyes flicker open as your fingers touch his hair. He nuzzles against your neck again, his expression one of happy repose. He smiles and stretches, blinking several times. His arms are still wrapped around you, though, and he doesn't seem ready to let go any time soon.

"It's been so long..." you say tiredly...lonely. "Mmm..." The sound of lyney's voice is sweet and gentle, like the whisper of a summer breeze. His voice is tinged with a certain melancholy as he says, "I know. It's been so long. For both of us....more for you" He pulls you a little closer, resting his head against your chest as he leans against you. He wants to be as close to you as possible. Lyney's lips press softly against your skin, as if he's trying to imprint everything about this moment into his memory. He blinks several times, but even with his eyes open, his thoughts seem far away as he continues to hold you tenderly. His hands softly stroke your hair, fingers running through every strand as if trying to commit it to memory. He can't quite find the words to convey exactly what he feels in this moment, but he doesn't have to. His expression says everything.

"I love you, mon lapin..."

Freminet

He closes his eyes when you tuck him into your side— he leans into you, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of your embrace. As the pain of his insecurities fades, he relaxes and nuzzles into you. He takes in the scent of your hair and holds tightly onto you. The moment you cradle him to your chest, he finally feels as if he isn't alone. All the weight on his shoulders seem to fall away. All of it, disappears in this moment.

All he is, is yours. And in this moment, he is complete. "I haven't felt a touch like this for....centuries." "You deserve to feel it after so long," Freminet says softly, his voice tinged with regret and remorse. And so does he, he knows he does and he knows he deserves to be loved...by you. You make him feel as though nothing else matters. The past, the future, his pain— when he's in your arms, he can't feel any of it. He is with you— he is content. Freminet relaxes, his head resting against your shoulder, his body curled into yours, as if he were a child sleeping against his mother.

"I'm glad to be here," he whispers. "And I'm glad you are here" you say as you look lovingly into his eyes."I feel safe when I'm with you," Freminet murmurs, his voice breaking slightly as he speaks. He holds tightly onto your clothing, burying his face into your shoulder.

His breath comes in deep, shaky gasps as he closes his eyes. "I...I don't want to leave this embrace," he whispers.

"After all...youre my home"

[hanyjar]

do stars return?

itoshi sae x reader

summary: your childhood friend leaves, and you question if he’ll ever come back.

notes: [1.2k words.] i like to think this man has super angst potential but that won’t be unearthed today LOL no beta we die like men <3

disclaimers: childhood friends trope, angst (if u squint) to fluff, making out for a lil bit, poetic dialogue, forgiveness theme.

masterlist.

Itoshi Sae shines.

It's a truth you've come to realise at the budding age of seven. He, with his tepid stature and equally cold attitude, is destined for greatness.

A star, you whisper, once upon a time. A time where he lived without a million eyes watching his every move. You will become a star, I just know it. 

And back in the day, it wasn't just you who believed it. Everyone did. From his teachers to his classmates, to his parents and his brother. It was an indisputable fact that the boy who dedicated himself wholly to soccer, a prodigy who made the sport look like an art form, had his future set out for stardom.

So it is no surprise to anyone when your naive declaration comes into fruition.

His face is plastered on every billboard - as far as the eye can see. Japan's pride, he is known as. The Ice Prince; he who dominates the field; a force to be reckoned with.

Itoshi Sae: the star.

You are proud. No doubt. Though, it’s false to say that you aren’t envious. Sae is a trailblazer: one that surpasses all of his enemies with a nonchalant stare, and transcends into the sky with the other geniuses. He is a part of the lucky few who are destined to be gazed upon with awe. Everything and anything you have achieved pales in comparison.

(You’d surely hear reprimands if you voice those thoughts out loud, though. In your time, you have made a name for yourself. An expert in your passion at the mere age of seventeen; a trailblazer in your own right.

…It’ll just never compare to the name Sae built for himself, you think with finality.)

But above the awe and envy you feel whenever Sae’s name comes up, is love.

Love: a trap that is inevitable for a childhood friend of his. A pitfall that you have fell into. Your love for him is a bittersweet fact, one which tugs at your heartstrings whenever his face shows up on your phone. Sweet, because childhood love is a beautiful, rare thing - you’re glad that it has happened, in all honesty - though bitter all the same, because he is a star.

And stars shoot past. They never go back.

(He, will never go back.)

So for the years that Sae is gone, you float by on that knowledge. Merely acknowledging him as the one who crashed into your life, and left as turbulently as he came. You work diligently to mute the love that festered in your heart, knowing it will never be. 

You wholeheartedly believe that your life will continue in this fashion.

Then, the impossible happens.

The star returns, seven years later. On your doorstep, nonetheless.

"Itoshi?" 

Somehow, even in the ungodly hour of 12:56AM, Sae manages to look as beautiful as the day he left. It's unfair. Unfair for him to show up at your doorstep unannounced; unfair for him to have grown into his boyish looks as gracefully as he did.

It’s unfair for him to still make your heart race, even after all this time.

"Who else would it be?" He scoffs, the bite of his words not quite reaching his eyes. "And, Itoshi, seriously?"

His voice makes your heart leap. It's like you are ten again. "Well… You haven't been Sae for a while now," you say. "Not since you ghosted me, anyways."

Sae's eyes flicker with an emotion you thought he is incapable of feeling. "I didn't mean to." Regret. The Ice Prince is feeling regret, all for you. And if you were ten again, maybe that alone would shake you. But you aren't. You are several years wiser. You know better.

"It's fine if you want to be the best in the world. I don't blame you for that - not at all. But you can be number one and not neglect the ones that love you, y'know?" You slowly retreat back into the comfort of your apartment, hand creeping onto the back of the door. "Goodnight, Itoshi. You should go home; it's late."

You push the door, preparing to end the conversation then and there.

It’s not supposed to be like this, you realise. He, your first love, is supposed to stay in the past. Itoshi Sae should not be at your doorstep past midnight, suitcase in tow, as if he came straight from the airport to your house. The feelings you hold for him should be locked up within the depths of your heart - not surging in full force from just the sight of him.

But alas, fate plays its mischievous tricks once again. And Sae is not the type of person who lets blunders get away scot-free.

"…You love me?” He says, barely above a whisper, foot wedged between the door and the entrance. An impenetrable silence follows from your end. 

Seven years older, but still a fool in the face of love, it seems.

“I did,” I still do, your mind yells. “But you’re a star now, Sae. Just like I said you would be.” Your breath hitches, nails forming crescent-shaped indents within your palm. “…And stars don’t fall in love with the big, black sea of nothingness, do they?”

A beat of silence ensues from his end. You cringe at your own word choice. Maybe he left, you think. Great. Itoshi Sae was at your door, and you scared him away with your stupid love and even stupider confession. How stupid can you even get—

The door hinge creaks as you topple over, shattering your inner turmoil. Sae announces his intrusion with a loud sigh.

“Hey! What are you?— This is considered trespassing—“ You begin. Sae shuts you up with a forceful kiss, pinning you against the door that you were hiding behind minutes before. It’s messy, tantalising, addicting. The smell of his aquatic cologne fills your senses, and he cups your face in between his hands. He feels so warm. He feels like home.

Sae’s whole body screams of need. The need for you; the need to make up for the lost time. 

You hate how you are so weak for him. 

“Idiot.” He deadpans as the two of you part. “If you’re going to get all poetic on me, fine. Stars don’t fall in love with the galaxy.” 

You remove yourself from his arms, eyes scrunching in offence. Bold thing for him to say, especially after he just kissed your lips raw. “So… You’re not in love with me?”

“Let me finish.” Sae is quick to pull you back into his embrace, voice impossibly soft for the otherwise stone-faced boy. “Stars don’t fall in love with the sky. They live in it; I live with you.”

Sae hopes that the implication is clear.

You, alone, are his hope; you are the reason he sparkles as much as he does. Even while you were miles apart, his childhood friend was the sole thing on his mind. A star cannot shine without its galaxy, after all.

“You’re not off the hook, by the way.” You breathe lightly, laying your head against his chest. “Seven years is still a long time. I don’t think you can cuddle your way out of this one, Itoshi.”

A small smile elicits from his face, “I can try, can’t I?”

…And this star is willing to wait for his galaxy to forgive him, no matter how long it takes.

[silverskye13]

random thought, but i had a vivid image of, if helsknight and welsknight ever saw each other without armor (or just helsknight out of his armor tbh), helsknight showing welsknight the scar tanguish gave him and saying "this was intended for you."

i don't know how in character that is, but tbh it's haunting me. maybe it's part of helsknight's revenge against welsknight or something, calling out his unknightly behavior and unhonorable conduct.

"You didn't answer my summons."

Helsknight froze. It was a quick, momentary startle, a short-circuit of normality. The moment he did it, every instinct told him to keep moving. That old command [Do something.] blared loud in the quiet surprise of his mind. So he moved his hand to pick up the brush on his table, and pretended to be unconcerned.

"I'm not a dog. You can't call me to heel," Helsknight said simply. He smirked and growled, "Though if you feel like losing some limbs, feel free to try."

Behind him, Wels shifted uncomfortably. Helsknight liked making Wels uncomfortable, he didn't handle it well. He was a creature used to comfort and ease. Inconvenience often galled him more than a sword to the throat. Different tactics for different battlefields, and this battlefield was a delicate one.

Helsknight was cleaning his arms and armor, which was one of several reasons why he hasn't leaped for a fight when Welsknight had called him to one. He was only in a tunic and breeches. It was luck he even had his boots on. He had offered to run errands with Tanguish, but Tanguish had said he was visiting his church and wanted to go on rooftops. So Helsknight stayed home, and he left his boots on. That was the other reason Helsknight hadn't answered the call: Tanguish wouldn't know where he was, and he knew Tanguish got paranoid about being left behind. Besides, Helsknight had chores he could do at home [like cleaning his arms and armor] so he stayed. Cleaning the chainmail was almost a formality. Hels was hot and dry, and he wore it often enough that the rings clattering together cleaned themselves. But sometimes he just liked putting an extra shine on things, so he took out his brush and oil and started brushing it down for any miniscule specks of rust or broken links he could find.

Wels, always keen on the times he wasn't wanted, decided now was the perfect time to show up in his living room. He stood awkwardly, waiting on Helsknight to make some aggressive movement. When none came, he cautiously stalked further into the tiny living space. His emotions were loud and uncomfortable without the distance between their respective worlds to dampen them, and they clung like smoke against Helsknight's skin. Caution at an unfamiliar space. Disgruntlement at being ignored.

[Guilt, like ash on a burn.]

"Is this... Yours?" Wels asked, glancing around.

"No, I'm just squatting in a random house. Sounded like a fun way to spend a Tuesday."

Helsknight felt the ant-bite sting of vicarious agitation and smirked. He was already getting on Wels's nerves.

[Good.]

"Couldn't build something nicer?" Wels snapped impatiently.

"I'm a fighter."

Helsknight found a place on his chainmail to brush down and got to work. The rough, grating twinge of the coarse bristles on chain made Wels wince. Helsknight always found the noise pleasant. Like scratching an itch.

"So?"

"I have better things to do than spend hours building the perfect house."

Wels scoffed and looked around the room with renewed disdain. "Where's your little devil?"

It took Helsknight a moment to place what he was asking. He sneered, a quiet bearing of teeth, and caught the flicker of red in the reflective shine of his chainmail. Wels looked pointedly away from him.

[Like ash on a burn.]

"Not feeling remorse... are we, crusader?" Helsknight asked, finding a new place to polish. The coin-drop clatter of chain, and the shrill scrape of bristles filled the silence like an accusation.

"Of course not," Wels sniffed disdainfully, still refusing to meet Helsknight's eye.

"Careful." Helsknight murmured, that red flash reflecting off his chainmail again, anger simmering. "Lying's a sin."

"Why would I feel remorse for protecting my home?"

"A crusade well fought I'm sure."

"It's not a crusade!" Wels snapped, his own anger a living thing raising hackles. "A crusader invades! A crusader fights a holy war just for the principle."

"Right. And you're fighting because--"

"Because I'm protecting Tango."

"-because it's for his own good?"

Wels didn't exactly wince, but he did still, as though he'd heard someone draw a blade from its scabbard. Helsknight might as well have unseated his sword. He had stopped scrubbing, all pretense of work falling. The need to pace, to circle, to corner, rose up in Helsknight like a waking beast.

"Interesting choice of words. Protecting." Helsknight said, his voice low, his hands still. "I was under the impression they were friends. Do you often protect Tango from the people he's begging you to spare?"

"That doesn't matter." Wels said so firmly it was almost convincing. Almost. "People are convinced they need an abusive relationship. That doesn't change the fact it's bad for them."

"So many interesting words today," Helsknight hissed. He stood like a dark tower rising, all embered fury slowly stoking. Wels didn't bother turning to face him. He could feel his intent like thunder. "Abuse. Brings to mind the image of power. I do have a question."

"I didn't come here for your stupid questions."

"No, you came here looking for a fight."

"I didn't."

"You really do need to tame that lying tongue."

"I didn't come here for a fight."

"Did it feel powerful?" Helsknight demanded, pacing a step, and loathing the tiny room for denying him the space to circle. "The voice. The command. How did it feel."

"Shut up."

"To have someone begging you not to hurt them," Helsknight continued relentlessly. "Not your stupid play fighting on your stupid little server. True, shaking, terror. Did it feel good, crusader? Just?"

"I told you to shut up!" Wels shouted, taking a threatening step forward only to find Helsknight had closed the space between them and stood looming like a rook on a tombstone.

Fear, a caged thing howling, battered against Helsknight's anger. It made Helsknight feel almost giddy, the crash of malicious schadenfreude and self-righteousness against Wels; a flickering thing of brittle will. They made a terrible ouroboros together, fear feeding anger feeding elation feeding fear. They were always like this. No matter how calm either of them tried to be, once anger kindled in one, their emotions burned until there was nothing left but fury and loathing. Helsknight had been made to cut Wels down to size.

"Do you know what that kind of fear does to people?" Helsknight demanded again, his voice so near a whisper it was smothering. They were so close together, but they made so little noise, all will and wide eyes. "What happened to mercy for the helpless, crusader?"

"He wasn't helpless," Welsknight said, trying very hard not to back down. "He stabbed me."

"And a drowning rat bites. I wouldn't call it an apex predator. Certainly I wouldn't call it a danger to you, with your full armor and sword." Helsknight bared his teeth at Wels, something like a bitter grin. "I wasn't wearing armor."

Wels looked down, where Helsknight had drawn up his tunic to reveal the new scar in his abdomen. Wels looked like he'd stopped breathing.

"This was intended for you," Helsknight said. "You should thank me."

"You're-- you're here telling me he's harmless," Wels laughed nervously. "But he almost killed you. You."

Something in Helsknight snapped, and in the moment it took him to reach for it with white knuckles and compose it again, he'd shoved Wels hard in the chest. It didn't knock his other half off his feet, but he stumbled back hard enough hit the opposite wall. Not hard enough to hurt, but certainly hard enough to warn.

"He did," Helsknight snarled, pacing forward slow steps. "That's what terror does to helpless people, crusader. It makes them bite. It makes them beg. It makes them clamor to live. You. Did. That. What did it feel like to abuse that kind of power Wels? To turn someone into a scared animal? To make someone so desperate they would almost kill a friend? Did you find your righteousness there crusader?"

Helsknight didn't know what he planned on doing. Violence was in his blood like a serpent, and he wanted it. And Wels knew he wanted it. There was the ring of drawn metal, and the silver-bright glint of an enchanted blade in a dark room. Helsknight's advance stopped at the top of Wels's sword, not close enough to hurt, but close enough to warn.

"Stop." Wels said. A command. A plea.

"I'm unarmed."

"That doesn't matter."

Helsknight smiled, and there was loathing and euphoria in it, and the wine-dark dread of Wels right on the other side of it. The knowledge of a line crossed, a battle he hadn't even realized he was fighting made forfeit.

"Fine." Helsknight said. "My blood's already been spilled once on your behalf. At least this time do it with your own sword, coward. I'll make it easy for you."

He took a step forward, and nudged the blade with a knuckle, resting the point against his scar. The metal was cold, even through his shirt, the enchantments alive and writhing so close to his skin.

"How cruel have you gotten while I wasn't there to keep you in check, crusader?"

There was a long breath of silence between them. Helsknight stood, precarious and predatory, daring Wels to kill him. And Wels stood there, and dared himself to as well. And the room was dark, lit only by red anger and blue dread, and the pale, languid flicker of enchanted steel. And neither of them breathed. And the universe watched.

A loud clatter sounded on the roof. Both knights looked up towards the ceiling, Wels in startlement, and Helsknight in resignation.

"And he stays my hand once again," Helsknight sighed.

"What--?" Wels didn't get his full question out before Helsknight moved. He knocked the sword aside and lunged forward to grab Wels's shirt. In a move that would've made Martyn proud, he dragged Wels forward into his knee, knocking the wind out of him. In the time it took Wels to collapse to the floor, Helsknight had taken his sword, and held the point beneath his other half's chin.

"Go home Wels," Helsknight said, "before I send you there the hard way."

Wels, breathless on the ground, let out half a strangled laugh. "Why don't you?"

"Because I was asked nicely not to go running off and killing you."

"Helsknight?" A loud knock sounded at the door. Tanguish's voice, a bright comfort even in spite of its concern, called to him. "Is everything okay? I thought I heard something fall."

Helsknight glared meaningfully down at Wels, who only hesitated long enough for Helsknight to draw back the sword before slipping back to his world. The moment he did, Helsknight felt his breath leave him, the great void of being left to his own thoughts and emotions. In the wake of everything that was Wels, he felt ridiculous.

[What in hels had he even been about to do? Die on someone's sword to prove a point? Idiot.]

"Helsknight? The door is locked."

"I'm coming," Helsknight called, pausing only long enough to hide Wels's sword beneath the couch, where Tanguish couldn't see it and inevitably worried about it. He checked his tunic to make sure he hadn't managed to actually stab himself [he hadn't] and went to let Tanguish inside.

[daughter-lilith]

❅In Every Life❅

Halsin x Fem!Reader | Modern AU, Parallel Universes Part 6 | Final | Read Part 5 here or jump to part 1

Summary: Another day on modern Earth as you finally wind down for the late night in your quiet home. All is as it should be. All is normal as you prepare for bed. That is, until a tall, hulking man with pointed ears shows up at your doorstep claiming to be your lost love from another time and realm. But he’s a stranger. A stranger who forever changes everything you thought you knew about your life.

Explicit 18+❕❕

CW (For whole story): Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tension, Oral, P in V, Shifting, Pain, Love, Grief, Halsin is Emotional!, Kinky! But kinky with love

Word Count: 11.7k (whoops! you can read on ao3 if it's easier on the eyes, but I have faith😈)

*Reminder, this is part 6. ⋆ a few tags for some. @stanfordscrush | @lanafofana | @catch-all | @thoughts-of-bear | @agathaharknessfan96 | @niki-is-a-reblog | @avabjorna36 | @acrobatalien42 | @princesspeachtacular | @amorgansgal | @freshlemontea

The tenderness in Halsin’s voice made you smile, feeling draped in its pleasant warmth. “Come,” you said to him, the flat of your hand softly pushed against his solid chest. He stepped backward, grasping your hips and gently guided you off the counter with a gentle thud.

You slipped past Halsin’s large frame, but not before interlacing your hand with his. With his large hand cupped around yours, you led him out of the kitchen and further into the quietness of your house, past the dining area, and into the spacey living room. You turned, gauging Halsin’s reaction, and found his eyes scanning the room, a curious narrow in his brows as his gaze landed on the wide, dark TV screen. You smiled, rubbing your thumb over his knuckle.

“I’ll tell you all about the changes in this world in the morning.” Your hand slipped out of his as you stepped further into the room. “But there are still some things that would be familiar to you.” You gestured towards the large fireplace at the corner of the room, where several logs were still layered upon one another.

You glanced down as you brought the palms of your hands into view. A heavy sigh flowed through your lips as you thought back to the otherworldly feeling of energy crackling within the tips of your fingers. The power that surged through your body, desperate for release. But that was in your old life, the magic both a distant and considerably recent memory.

“I’d do the honors but,” you nodded towards the fireplace, “I don’t think my magic exists anymore, or it’s severely dormant.” You gave a meek smile, half joking, but a tiny part of gloom sliced through you.

“Of course.” Halsin stepped at your side, facing the fireplace. Orange flames conjured in his hand, reflecting in his hazel eyes as he drew one arm back like he was ready to toss something. “Ignis,” he whispered, casting a bolt of fire directly onto the logs.

Instantly, the flames spread, rising and flickering within the hearth. The dark room was almost immediately illuminated in a soft, red-orange glow. You glanced at Halsin, sighing in awe at the sight of the shimmering light dancing over his face, the way the shadows heightened the intensity of his gaze as he stared at the flames for another moment longer. Halsin turned to you, taking both your hands before lifting them to his lips.

“As for your magic,” he kissed the back of your hand, his breath warm over your skin. “I wager it is only dormant. I do not know much of this world, but I do believe you are full of magic in more ways than one.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a genuine smile curving on your face. Maybe he was right- maybe this world did have magic like in Faerûn, but it had long been lost to the ages, replaced by the consistent advancement of modern technologies. But that was a matter for another time. Right there, right now, you had your druid back and he had you. So you sauntered further away from him, holding your hand up to keep him from following when he took a reactive step towards you. You strolled backward until your bare feet transitioned from the cold wooden floor to the massive, warm rug. The fluffy carpet glided between your toes as you tip-toed towards the center of it, your eyes never leaving Halsin’s.

You reached up to grasp the center of your robe, then pulled it apart, letting it slip freely off your shoulders. When it fell down your arms, you tossed it aside nearby. Halsin watched you intently, silent, his large chest rising and falling. You smirked, then turned away from him, lifting the bottom of your tank top up and over your head then discarded it in front of you. Your house had a gentle warmth hovering in the air, growing warmer from the nearby flames, but a coolness still lingered in the center of the room, ensuring your nipples remained taut.

Halsin’s heart thundered in his chest, his tongue unconsciously sliding across his bottom lip. He had watched your robe slip away, and his gaze quickly scanned your bare arms and thighs. The heat of his budding arousal intensified, a swell straining against his trousers. He watched as you turned around, freeing yourself from the tight shirt you wore. Immediately, he caught sight of the small streak that trailed down the middle of your spine. The mark that seemed to follow you in both your past and present life. The very mark that granted Halsin this chance to be with you again.

You bent forward some, sliding your thumbs inside your underwear, guiding it to fall at your ankles. You arched forward further, purposely poking your bare backside in his direction as you reached for the discarded top. You picked it up and threw it on a nearby couch before fully turning to face Halsin again.

Halsin’s breath caught in his throat as you stood naked and smirking before him, your eyes glued to his with a deep yearning. His mouth felt slick with saliva, and his chest burned with a craving for you. A shaky breath left his throat, his voice low and dripping with devotion. “You are still more intoxicating than anything nature has to offer.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks and a shiver passed over you at the lower pitch of his voice, how he all but shuddered the words. You could only imagine the racing in his heart, it must’ve been beating as fast as yours. And just like the first time in the forest, all those years ago in another life, Halsin gripped at his clothing and swiftly removed it, bending down to step out of his trousers once he discarded his robe. He rose slowly, standing at full height. The light from the fire shone over him wonderfully, accentuating every line, muscle, and contour of his body.

Your gaze trailed over his impressive frame, drifting lower to his large, muscled thighs. You released a soft gasp as you rested on his long, thick erection where the tiniest line of thin fluid dripped from the tip. You bit your lip, feeling yourself throbbing for this god of a man who was standing there waiting for you. It was like seeing him for the first time while also remembering all of your phenomenal moments together, how you never grew tired of the sight of him in his full glory.

“Come back to me, my love,” he whispered a gentle command, already stepping towards you as he spoke.

You smiled, meeting him halfway as his hands reached for your waist, pulling you into him. You gasped, surprisingly unprepared for the rush of pleasure that coursed through your body on first, naked contact. He hadn’t kissed you yet, his eyes still boring into yours, so full and thriving with affection.

“Gods, you are so gorgeous,” you muttered, smiling softly, appreciating the striking druid before you. Your breath caught as you admired the way the flames’ light danced on the side of his face, brightening his tattoo and reflecting in his eyes.

Halsin gave a sheepish smile, almost looking away but managing to hold your gaze. After all this time, he still couldn’t believe you were back in his arms, as you had once been thousands of times before. The moment you came to him in a dream, he never stopped working on how to find you again. His passion was reignited in the hopes of seeing you breathing again- kissing you again, loving you again.

You pressed yourself even closer against his torso, Halsin doing just the same, large hands roaming down your back, resting at the curve of your smooth backside. He bent forward, molding his mouth into yours, already missing your lips. But this kiss was slower, deeper, sensual. There was a tingling urgency that still floated beneath the surface of your kiss, but the relaxed passion was prevailing, your lips easily moving together in expert accuracy. Halsin’s groan rumbled against your chest, the deep vibration heightening your arousal. You loved the sounds he made when he kissed you just as much as you knew he loved your melodic moans. And your passion for one another made it oh so easy to sing such sounds.

“Halsin,” you gasped softly as his lips found their way to your jaw before licking a trail down your neck. Another groan rumbled from his throat as he sucked on your tender skin, sure to leave several marks before soothing it over with his tongue.

Halsin’s large hands gripped you firmly, and his licks and kisses grew eager as the scent of your arousal wafted up to him, setting ablaze the deepest desires within him. There was a sudden stir in his essence, a rattle against the invisible cage as the beast shifted within, hungry, longing for the one who ignited the most primal urges inside of him. But the Archdruid had years of experience under his belt, and he had learned to show some restraint…usually.

If he was lucky, there would be plenty of nights of wild, unbridled, primal passion. But tonight, he wanted you to have him as he was; in his prime, elven form. So suppressing that primal urge, his huge, expert hand worked over one of your breasts, massaging it while his thumb teasingly rubbed over the taut nipple. His other hand secured you at your lower back, keeping you steady as you began to gradually sway within his hold. His tongue slithered its way across your collarbones, over your chest, desperately tasting as much of you as he could.

Halsin continued his descent as a delighted whine escaped your lips just as his mouth closed over a nipple. He loved that sound, just as much as he loved feeling your keen hands combing through his hair and gripping his strong shoulders. He glanced up at you, captivated by your beautiful neck as you tilted your head back, biting your lips. Halsin sucked on you, biting gently, watching you gasp and your teeth scraping your lips before he soothed your sensitive nipple with a warm lick. He moved to your other supple breast, not wanting to neglect it from the same deserving attention. He groaned with your nipple in his mouth and felt your chest prickle at his breath.

Halsin sensed your legs losing strength as you seemed to use more effort to hold onto him, too lost in the sensations his mouth had against your chest. With ease, he hoisted you up, securing your legs around his waist. Halsin shuddered, feeling a dampness pressing against his lower abdomen, you were so incredibly moist for him. His lips were quickly on yours again as he slowly sank to his knees, kissing you for another moment before gently laying you on your back.

You tilted your head up, expecting him to capture your lips again. Instead, Halsin raised himself, placing his hands on your knees as he gazed down at you. An assembly of emotions was present on his beautiful, scarred face: awe, devotion, lust, a hint of sadness, and most importantly, love. Your heart wavered as he surveyed your body before coming back to your eyes again, a tiny smile marking his face as his broad chest filled and emptied with air.

Halsin continued to look down at you as another overwhelming sense of disbelief hit him. But only for a moment as the scent of your arousal was notably stronger in this position, reminding him of how much you ached for him as he did you. He roved his eyes over your lovely, nude body once again, silently thanking nature for its powerful creative skills. You were a vision. A goddess. And you had his heart.

With a wicked smile, you lifted one leg, teasingly sliding your toes down the center of his hard pecs, traveling further down his abdomen. You were about to pull your leg away, but Halsin took hold of your ankle, kissing you there. You smiled contentedly as he peppered sweet kisses up your leg, occasionally showing the other the same attention. He lowered himself, leaving teasing bites along your thighs, his tongue lazily roaming over your warm flesh. You curled your fingers into the furry carpet as his warm breath hovered near the spot you wanted him at most, the anticipation almost unbearable.

Halsin inhaled deeply, groaning hungrily against your heat. “Mmm, that scent.” He quivered, digging his fingers into your thigh. “As exhilarating as I remember.”

A sudden gasp left you as Halsin’s entire mouth clamped over the most tender of your flesh. You let your head fall on the rug, stomach clenching as you started losing yourself in the immediate, wonderful sensations. Halsin’s tongue moved desperately over you, the force of his sucking causing the most melodic mewls and moans from your lips.

Halsin laid himself almost flat, pulling you into his mouth as much as he could. Your taste; the warm, sweet nectar, oh how it invigorated him. He took you in his mouth with ease, your wet, sensitive flesh, so easy for licking and sucking. You were already so slippery before his tongue even tasted you, and now... Halsin groaned at the thought. The chorus of your moans only fueled his desire further, and he sucked your clit harder before rubbing against it with his pointed nose while his tongue glided down to your entrance.

The surface and bottom of his tongue ran long, greedy licks from the top of your clit all the way to the tight hole of your anus, lingering there a while before licking his way back up again. His tongue dipped inside of you, fueled by the loud moan that sang from your lips. You tasted divine, leaking into his mouth as he savored as much as possible. Halsin wanted to drown in you, to feast on you, desperate to be sustained by all you could provide. He devoured you like you were a fresh river he stumbled upon after days of wandering lost in the driest of deserts. And finally, he could drink.

A surge of arousal rushed up his back, amplifying his already racing heart. His pulsing erection pressed into the soft carpet as he unintentionally began moving his hips to rub himself against it. The feel of your legs rubbing haphazardly up his back– your fingers clawing and pulling at his hair, made his cheeks feel flushed, his head hot and drunk with you. A familiar nudge rumbled in his core again, the beast aching to be brought out to play. He practically growled against you, making you whimper at the vibrations his throat gave. He heard you moan his name, and a potent spark raced up his cheeks and into his eyes.

You glanced down just as Halsin looked up at you and gasped at the sight. His irises were glowing a fierce gold, watching you hungrily, intensely, as his mouth continued to devour your rawest flesh. It was one of the sexiest things you had seen in a long time, the men of Earth having no comparison. A sudden thrust from his finger pulled you out of your trance, and you fought the urge to throw your head back, not wanting to look away from this alluring sight. Your toes curled as the feeling of his thick finger explored you, poking against the spot that finally made your head lay back down. Another finger had you gasping at the brief flicker of pain as he slowly stretched you. You’ve had few lovers in this life, but it had been a while since another man or toy had been inside of you.

Halsin lifted his head as trails of saliva stretched between your labia and his mouth before falling away. He wanted to focus on working his fingers inside you, groaning at the way your walls squeezed after his second finger. “Oh, how tight you are, my heart.” His tone was husky and thick with desire, lips glistening wet with you. He had expected some level of tightness, but the idea of just how much you were gripping around only two fingers further excited him for something more, something larger, to feel it suffocating within your walls.

For all the times you and Halsin had been together, the many nights and days you reached your climax, you were often quite tight before starting. If you had gone even a day without sleeping together, your walls took little time to compress, like it looked forward to the stretch, to the pleasure and sting that came with it.

Halsin rotated his fingers slowly, exploring you once again after so long apart. He slid further in, curving his fingers upward with a sudden force. You twitched, and the sound that fell from your lips made the druid smirk, pleased that he still knew where and how to touch you. He almost added a third finger but changed his mind, wanting his stiff cock to be the one to stretch you further. So instead, he shifted the two fingers he had inside of you so his thumb was now probing over the entrance of your anus. Already so lubricated from his saliva and your moisture, he had little resistance squeezing his thumb inside your tighter hole.

“Halsin!” you yelped and arched your back as he continued to work his thick fingers within you, pulling all sorts of soft, airy, pleasurable sounds from your opened mouth. Gods you’ve missed his touch, flooded by the memories of how incredible it was, how well he knew your body. You clenched your stomach as Halsin pumped his fingers faster as a familiar feeling bubbled in your abdomen, spreading further down, consuming you. You tried to lean back a little, the sensation becoming too much to handle but Halsin’s other hand gripped you in place. The sudden suction of his mouth back on your clit sent you over, releasing a sudden, splashing dam of your arousal. You shuddered, breathing hard as your climax soared through you—but Halsin continued, still licking and sucking on your sensitive flesh.

“My Halsin,” you breathed frantically, “please…”

Halsin glanced up at you, irises still burning a bright gold. He smirked against you then released your clit with a final suction from his lips, making you twitch at the sensation. You moaned quietly at the feeling of his fingers slipping out of you. The flat of his tongue licked you up and down once more, cleaning you. You lay flat, breathing heavily as the vibrations that tickled throughout your body gradually subsided. You were still throbbing even after his mouth left you, still so sensitive.

A large figure passed over your droopy eyelids as Halsin lowered himself to plant adoring kisses on your chest and your neck, before hovering above your face. You were half aware of the druid gazing at you, a satisfying closed grin on his face as his fingers idly trailed up your thigh. When your breathing calmed some, you finally focused on him, the golden glow in his eyes still intense, showing no signs of waning. Glancing at his glistening mouth, you started to lean upward but Halsin was first to sever the distance.

A deep, open-mouthed kiss greeted you, his tongue finding refuge in your mouth. You tasted yourself on him, feeling reinvigorated by the taste and scent. One of your legs moved over Halsin’s back, trying to pull him closer to you. He groaned, kissing you passionately before pausing to look at you.

You smiled up at him, sliding a few stray strands of hair out of his face. “Always taking such good care of me,” you sighed, happily, feeling like you could lay there forever. You not only felt satisfied but so safe and protected beneath his large stature even with him leaning a bit to the side.

Halsin chuckled, gazing at you with pure love and desire still aflame in his golden irises. “I live to serve.” He smiled, brushing his lips over yours before caressing them softly.

Your brows furrowed and you frowned a little as a wave of sadness came over you. Staring up at your druid, your elf, your lover, you couldn’t help but wonder what you did to ever deserve such a man- what you did to deserve him coming back to you in this life. You realized just how incredibly lucky you were, and you weren’t going to squander it.

“But who’s taking care of you?” you inquired, tracing your nail down his cheek. Halsin shuddered at your touch, closing his eyes.

You took that chance to gather what strength you could, seizing this distraction. With the assistance of your knee, you quickly pressed the palm of your hands against his chest and pushed. Halsin, half leaning on his side, made it much easier for you to force the large man onto his back. He grunted at the sudden movement, a quick, hearty laugh escaping him. You threw your legs over him, now effectively the one on top.

“My sweet Halsin,” you murmured, rubbing your hands down his large, hairy pecs. He groaned beneath you, staring at you with pure devotion, ready to give whatever you wanted.

Your nails dragged down his abdomen, watching him clench and twitch beneath your touch. Your roving eyes followed your hands’ movements, scanning over his massive frame, so sculpted and perfect, all yours to revel in. You sighed in deep appreciation; he was such a marvel. Your eyes stopped at the length of him resting near his thigh, pulsing and erect, a clear line of pre-cum glistening at the tip. You felt yourself throbbing at the sight, your heart quickening as you eyed Halsin who was staring at you silently, hungrily. Glowing eyes anticipated your next move, his massive chest lifting and falling.

You bit your lip, taking in the sculpted physique of the elf-man. Your hands moved over to each of his biceps, his veins bulging, and gingerly massaged the thick muscles, feeling any and all tension start to slip. You glided your way up the length of his shoulders, kneading and caressing as Halsin sighed contently, watching you through half-open eyes. You frowned as you worked your hands into his muscles as best you could, feeling the tension of what you suspected had lived in him for years.

“So much stress,” you whispered, solemn, leaning down towards him. “You can relax now, my love. I’m here now.”

Halsin released a deep breath, his brows slightly knitting together in a show of adoring appreciation. “Yes, you are. And you’re still so perfect.” His large hands idly roved up and down your waist as you smiled down at him.

So you proceeded to press your hands into his warm skin until you gradually felt his muscles restricting a little less, his shoulders resting more. “I missed this face, my sweet bear,” you droned lovingly, almost losing yourself in the glow of his eyes. “Can I take my time with you?” you asked, tracing a nail along his collarbone.

His voice was husky and breathy in his response, so deep from his throat. “Whatever you wish, my heart. Any part of me is yours.”

Bending down, you placed a tender kiss on the scars above his brow then the other side, beneath his eye where his tattoo continued downwards. Your lips pressed more soft kisses along his cheek until you made your way to his ear, darting your tongue out to lick a trail up to the very sensitive point of his ear. Halsin shuddered, groaning deeply as his grip on your lower waist tightened for a brief moment before relaxing again. You chuckled mischievously at his reaction, pleased to see how sensitive he still was.

Halsin felt himself twitch at the sound of your lascivious laughter in his ear, your warm breath tickling his neck. Sweet, electric tingles danced their way up his body as your lips touched the crook of his neck. He roamed his hands up the length of your back, falling into the heated sensations of your kisses along his skin, the way you put pressure on several areas as though to mark him. Halsin felt himself relaxing more into the soft rug, his body reacting to you in all the right ways. His neck felt cold when you glided away, peppering kisses across his chest. He caught your eyes as you looked up and smiled at him, a wicked glint in your grin.

A heavy groan drawled out of Halsin’s throat as you nipped lightly on one of his nipples, soothing it with a slow lick. Your fingers playfully teased and pinched the other as Halsin tried not to squeeze you too tight so as not to interrupt you. It had been so long since anyone had him like this— since you had him this way. Even before he knew you, no one had taken the time to truly explore Halsin’s body the way you did, to tease and caress at more areas other than what sat stiffly between his legs. But his blood burned in anticipation, eager for your hands to touch him everywhere.

The slickness of your tongue swirled down the center of his abdomen, occasionally stopping to pepper a kiss on each brick of muscle as your hands roamed down his sides. Halsin twitched at the feeling of your warm breath ghosting over his lower abdomen, his heart rate increasing as he observed you eagerly. He watched as you placed a kiss below his navel, then ever lower, pausing to glance at him.

With a cheeky smirk, you rose on your knees, halting the rest of your descent. Halsin made a strained sound, somewhere between a groan and a whine that made a stream of melodic chuckles leave your lips. “Is something the matter, love?” you inquired with a raise of your brow.

Before Halsin could answer, you moved both of your hands to one of his bulky thighs, working the wide muscle. His skin was much warmer there, yet it still prickled beneath your caresses. Halsin reached for your waist, sliding his calloused hands up to cup and knead at your breasts. But his touch faltered as you scraped your nails down his inner thigh, delighted by his sudden hiss and intake of breath. You remembered how he loved it when you touched him there, how it made him twitch and ache with more want. And you could see how much he yearned for more, thick and hard for you, throbbing as it jolted a little, desperate for your attention. Halsin’s lips parted as he muttered your name, his wide chest rising and falling.

Leaning forward, you showered kisses over Halsin’s face, drawing back slightly to look into his eyes. But it wasn’t just the beautiful glow you wanted to gaze at, it was his reaction when you— Halsin hissed, jolting beneath you as his warm breath hit your face. You smirked, pleased with his reaction the moment you slyly reached between the two of you and grasped his waiting, thick cock. A low whine drifted from his mouth as the pad of your thumb swiped over the tip, smearing the wet slick over himself. Your hand moved halfway down his length before you caught his moan in your mouth as you kissed him.

Halsin’s body burned with a new wave of exhilarating desire at the feeling of your expert touch. He felt like pudding beneath you, already so weak for you, heart racing as he watched you pull away from his lips. His body made an involuntary flex of his abdomen as your warm, wet tongue slithered down the middle of his torso, swirling in and around his navel. He murmured your name, pulse racing as your head moved lower. The beast within panted as the slippery slick of your tongue finally touched him where he craved most, licking a long trail up his length. He suppressed the urge to hurriedly raise his hips and push into your mouth, choosing instead to grit his teeth as he laid his head back.

You moaned against Halsin, swirling your tongue around the tip, reveling at the minor hint of salt before your saliva took over. He was so full and heavy in your hands as you opened your mouth more, taking him in. A deep, rumbling groan sounded from above you, and you felt his thighs flex and tighten.

Gradually, you started a nice slow suck, occasionally swirling your tongue around him. You moved up and down, wanting to lower your head further but the position made it difficult to take too much of him. So your hands did what the rest of your throat couldn’t, stroking and massaging the bottom of him, fondling his testicles while your wet mouth sucked and tasted. You moaned again, encouraged by the shaky movements beneath you and the occasional grunts and labored breaths from your druid’s lips. You moved your head faster, stroked him harder, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth.

Tingles prickled all over Halsin’s body as your wet lips cupped around him, your warm mouth taking in as much as you could. He felt your mouth leave him only to then feel your breath hovering over his large sacs, rolling your tongue over them as your hands continued to work his length. Halsin breathed sharply, clenching his jaw at the sensation— so different from his cock and yet triggering new waves of pleasure up and down his legs.

Your moans as you sucked him in and tasted him were sending him near the edge, and his stomach tightened as a charge darted down his center. He felt your tongue slithering back up his shaft again, wasting no time to take the slick girth of him back into your warm mouth. A familiar sensation simmered within Halsin, threatening to launch him off the cliff the longer you had him in your mouth. He gritted his teeth, torn between letting you continue to savor him or halting your actions. He whined as another slurp and hard suck came from you. No– he had to wait, not yet.

Quickly, he grabbed the side of your head and gently but firmly halted you. You eyed him with lust-filled eyes as you pulled away, your mouth parted and dripping. He tingled at the sight, watching the head of his cock leaning against your lips.

“Wait, my heart,” he breathed hard, sweat glistening over his skin. “I want to be as one first, to fill you with me. Please.”

With a mischievous grin, you nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. “Of course, my darling.” Teasingly, you flicked your tongue out for one final lick and his eyes flared bright before dimming back to their golden glow.

You crawled back up Halsin’s body and he kissed you eagerly, sloppy, mixing the taste of each other. You drew back before getting too lost in his lips and rose high on your knees. Halsin’s luminous gaze followed you carefully, his breathing ragged. You positioned yourself over him, a sudden rush of heat passing over your body as you glided your wetness along his shaft. Your labia slipped and slid over him with ease, and you bit your lip at the stimulating sensation while Halsin could hardly keep his eyes open. Wanting to tease him no longer, you gripped just below the tip and lifted yourself higher, aligning him just beneath you.

You inhaled, preparing yourself as you gently lowered onto him, hissing softly as your hips gradually descended. A deep, almost animalistic groan rumbled out of Halsin, and his hands reached for your breasts, fondling and massaging you as you bit your lip through the sting of the stretch. You remembered more now, how Halsin could fill you like no other. A blend of pleasure and pain tingled inside you as you continued your descent on his thick, veiny shaft, inch by delicious inch.

Halsin murmured below you, his large hands moving to grasp your waist but without rushing you. “That’s it, my love. Let me open you. You always take me so well.” His sweet praises made you moan and mewl until you finally reached the base.

You felt so incredibly full of him, like he was deep in your stomach. Instead of moving up and down, you started slowly grinding your hips first, allowing your moist walls more time to adjust. Pleasure still shot through you as you eyed Halsin’s radiant eyes, gazing up at you, mouth hung open. You placed your hands against his chest, your confidence building as you began to lift slightly before sliding back down. The pain began to wane under the pleasure as you started bouncing your hips with more passionate fervor, gasping every time you reached the bottom of him.

A chorus of moans and sweet compliments filled the room as Halsin watched you take him expertly. “You are such a vision,” he whispered beneath you. A long drag of his breath flowed from his mouth at the sight of himself disappearing inside you, over and over.

You still felt so tight around him, damp and warm, but he knew the pleasure was overcoming any pain from the way you rode him, taking him like he was meant only for you. His hands on your waist began to grip you, gently assisting in the movements of your hips, unable to resist pressing up into you each time you came down. “You feel incredible,” Halsin breathed, low, his mouth parting nicely.

The glow in Halsin’s eyes only doubled the euphoric sensations. He too felt incredible. Looked incredible. It was intoxicating, phenomenal, powerful. You reveled in each other, a perfect match, a perfect rhythm. It was all so much— the feel of him within you, the desire and love that burned only for you.

A sudden dizziness filled your head as your vision started to alter. Your face prickled with goosebumps as visions – no – memories flashed in front of you. Breathy moans, needy hands, thrusting and kissing, soft soothing, climaxes reached again and again.

You saw it all, you and Halsin, the many times you came as one. You felt it all. Every taste, every touch, every orgasm rushing into your entire being all at once. A tsunami of sensations washed over you with no mercy. You keeled forward, wobbly and uneven. You were acutely aware of glowing eyes laced with worry as they looked up at you. Your forearm trembled as you used it to hold yourself a little as you rested against Halsin’s hard chest.

“What is it, my heart? Are you hurt?” Halsin seized all movements, forcing down the haze of lust as he frantically searched your face.

His heart quickened, no longer with hunger but with fear. He lifted your face to look at him, your eyes closed as you breathed rapidly. “My heart? Please speak to me.”

“Just… just need a moment.” You took in a deep breath, then another, trying to quell the overwhelming feeling. It wasn’t that the sudden flood of feelings didn’t feel nice per se, it was just all so sudden, so unexpected, and probably entirely more than you could handle at the moment as all your memories caught up with you.

“We can rest, my love. We need not rush anything.” Before you could respond to him, you gasped as he suddenly lifted your hips, sliding out of you. The loss immediately left you feeling cold and empty without his fill.

Halsin gently shifted positions so you were on your back now, then glanced around the living room. The nearest couch had a square pillow in arm's reach, which he grabbed and placed beneath your head. He then laid at your side, half leaning over you, eyeing you with solemn concern.

The carpet was soft against your back as you felt your pulse throbbing. But you took comfort in Halsin’s warmth that assisted in calming you.

“Sorry,” you whispered, your vision clearing, effectively bringing you back to the present.

“There is nothing to be sorry for, my love.” He kissed your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek. “We can proceed tomorrow, or any other—

“No,” you snapped, heart quickening, your arousal still burning. “I still want you. I need you. Right now.”

“But you nearly lost yourself, what if—”

“My memories,” you said, sighing. “It seems some chose to reconnect with me while you and I were… connected.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion but waited for you to continue. “I saw us. Nearly all the times we were together as one. In the forest, at camp, at our home. I could feel us, Halsin. How incredible we were together.” You reached up for his face, tracing your thumb down his bottom lip. “It just became so much for that moment. But it’s easing now. I’m okay.”

“Are- are you certain?” Halsin would be deceiving himself if he said his blood still wasn’t burning, that his cock still didn’t throb so eagerly for you, still coated with your moist. But he had to be sure you truly still wanted this and could handle it, for he had no issue putting your comfort first.

“I want you,” you murmured, reaching down to stroke his still-hardened length, slippery with you. “And I think you still want me, too.” You smirked, your heart soaring at the tenderness in his eyes. But you were not blind to the desire that still swelled within him, for the golden glow of his irises still had not dimmed.

“Silvanus preserve me,” he groaned, kneading against your thigh. “I- I do still want you. I want you more than I can bear it. I want to drown in you. To reclaim what is mine and for you to take what is yours.”

Your heart raced at his confessions, and your lips curved into a naughty smirk. You ran a finger down the side of his face then over his bottom lip. “Then come back to me.”

You watched him pondering for a moment before he leaned down to capture your lips. Tender, slow, and passionate, your mouths molded together effortlessly.

“As you wish, my heart. But allow me.” He positioned his body fully over yours, resting his weight on his forearms as he used his knee to spread your legs so he could settle in between.

His breath was warm on your lips as you gazed at one another. This close and this still, you were even more mesmerized by the sight above you. The way the firelight danced on the side of his face, how his eyes still burned for you, a magical golden light. You were so warm beneath him, so protected.

Halsin tilted his head, a loving smile on his face. “You are remarkable, do you know that?”

You twisted your lips, feigning a deep thought. “Yes. Yes, I do know.” You chuckled playfully, and Halsin laughed right along with you, vibrating against your chest.

“Oh, so I should reduce my compliments, then?”

You gasped. “Don’t you dare. Tell me more.” You grinned, then bit your lips to try to keep from smiling.

Halsin leaned down, kissing you once. “You are beautiful.” A lick along your jawline. “Incredible.” He sucked lightly on your neck, making you moan and giggle a little. “Ravishing.” He froze, his breath hot and heavy near your ear. “Extraordinary.” He lifted his head to look at you again, his voice deep and serious. “And I love you more than anything.”

Before you could answer, a whimper erupted from your mouth as he suddenly sank back inside you in one full thrust. You felt immediately stuffed again, missing his girth, his warmth. You tossed your head back, exposing your neck for Halsin who wasted no time peppering kisses and adding more marks to your skin.

Your living room was an orchestra of passion; sounds of heavy, ragged breathing, strained mewls, grunts, and deep groans. All accompanied by the crackling noises of the embers dancing within the fireplace, as if the flames themselves were encouraging your lovemaking. Your hands roamed down Halsin’s back, scratching and pulling him closer to you as much as possible. You were skin to skin and it still didn’t feel like enough.

Halsin lifted one of your legs back, raising it almost near the side of your head, and when he thrust back in, another gasp wafted from your lips. He felt so much deeper that way, a total and complete part of you. A flurry of euphoric sensations bubbled throughout your body, a burning heat mixed with sudden chills down your spine. Halsin moved within you skillfully, smoothly, your tightness eagerly sucking him back in during every stroke and thrust.

Halsin’s breathing was ragged, consumed by the feeling of you, how warm and wet you were. He was driven by how well you took him, how well he fit buried deep inside you. He reveled in your sultry moans near his ear, the sweet sounds more entrancing than a harpy’s luring song. He kissed you whenever possible, passionate and unsteady as the pleasure from your connection was too distracting. He groaned a low, growl-like rumble, then felt your fingers dig into his flesh in response.

Once again, Halsin was caught in a well of utter disbelief. He never thought he’d have you again, be with you again. He was growing content with the temporary moments of your presence in his meditations or dreams. But when you truly came to him in a dream, a different version of you, the opportunity for another chance… his heart leaped for it. Nothing and no one could stop him from trying to find you again. And so he gazed down at you, and there you were… face flushed with pleasure, eyes dazed and heavy with lust yet swelling with love.

Halsin watched your lips part, wet from his tongue, while dots of sweat glistened over your forehead as you eagerly welcomed him within you. You were beautiful. You were real. A familiar burn in his eyes caused his vision to slightly blur as new tears strolled down his face, some landing on your cheek and your nose.

“To have you again,” Halsin uttered through shaky words, voice hot and hoarse. “Oak Father, do not let this be a dream.” He allowed his emotions to do as they pleased— to simmer, burn, and cry for you. He dipped down and molded his mouth to yours once again, groaning into your kiss, never wanting to part from you. His tongue tasted you fiercely, trying to get as deep as possible. Halsin’s feelings for you surged wildly into the kiss, and he breathed you in like he would perish without your air.

Time was a distant thought as your hot, sweat-slicked bodies moved against each other. You kissed Halsin back whenever you could, other times too overcome with the height of ecstasy buzzing in your body. When you couldn’t return the kiss, his lips moved to your jaw, your chin, your neck, anywhere he could get his mouth on. An intense pressure filled your abdomen, and you unintentionally clenched yourself around Halsin’s cock, unable to handle the rising sensations as you writhed beneath him.

Halsin’s grunts became more constant and ragged as he increased his speed, drilling himself into your clenching heat. He leaned his hips forward some, and the light bristles of his pubic hair grazed your clit, eliciting another moan from you. He grinned and pressed more of his lower weight on you, rubbing against your clit while he burrowed deeper as a low rumble, almost growl vibrated in his chest.

“My heart.” A jagged breath between teeth as his movements quickened, his rhythm growing irregular.

Through hooded eyes, you stared at his glowing ones before lifting your chin, exposing your neck again. Your back arched, body prickling and hot as Halsin’s thick fingers dug into your thigh, grounding himself into you. Another overwhelming feeling rushed over your body, your walls clenching, belly electric. “My Halsin,” you moaned and he thrusted into you hard, the hardest yet tonight. Warm fluid spilled into you as Halsin growled from the depths of his throat, burying his head in the crook of your neck as you felt him twitching inside of you.

Wave after wave of euphoria washed over you. You turned your head towards Halsin, kissing the side of his face, wanting to taste his lips. But a gasp left your mouth as Halsin hurriedly withdrew from you, once again leaving you feeling cold without him. You knew Halsin, you knew he wasn’t quite finished spending himself within you, in the middle of still thrusting out his orgasm. And even so, he loved to sit in you for a while, even after he came down from his peak. So you watched him with concern as he lifted his weight on his hands and knees so none of his body was touching you.

“Halsin?” your breathy whisper came out quickly just as a familiar stream of golden light swam over the length of his body. A light you remembered all too well.

Halsin glanced at you once. No longer was it just his irises shimmering, but the entire space of his eyes. In a quick burst of light, the elf was gone, in his place a creature coated in dark brown fur, fierce and powerful. But it was not the shape you were expecting, not the robust cave bear you knew so well. No, this was a canine— golden eyes shining in the body of a beautiful, massive, dire wolf. The wolf tossed his head back and the loudest keening howl sang from his mouth. You gasped, but not out of fear but from surprise.

It was a thrilling sight, and you couldn’t help but elicit a quick giggle as you tried to shush him, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t be pulled out of their slumber. The wolf’s howling mewled to a gradual end and he—Halsin— lowered his head to survey you. His bright, golden eyes glimmered, and his heavy panting gave you a peek at sharp incisors. He was gorgeous, how his glimmering eyes stood out against dark fur. You knew it was brown like his hair, but in this dim light, it was practically as black as the night. And his head was large, larger than that of a modern wolf. Your heart was still pounding as the mighty wolf met your eyes, slightly showing its teeth.

You could almost see Halsin’s smirk and desire for you. His dark snout twitched as he began sniffing, working his way over you. The wolf dipped his head towards you, and his long, flat tongue flicked out, lapping at your chest. You shivered at the feeling, letting him taste you as his long tongue dragged over each of your breasts. It felt warm and slick, slithering along your collarbone and up the column of your neck then back down again. Something like a faint growl rumbled in the wolf’s throat as the hot air from his heavy panting coasted further down your belly. You watched with bated breath, a new excitement tickling your bones as the wolf made his way sniffing down your body.

His long snout gently butted your knees, opening them back up since you obliviously brought your legs together after Halsin’s exit. The wolf’s tongue darted out, lapping at your still-so-sensitive flesh. You gasped at the sensation, stomach tightening. You were still so tender, so raw, and yet your hands reached down to dig through the fur between his long ears. Something between a growl and low whine vibrated against you as Halsin’s wolf tongue swiped over your combined fluids, like he was both cleaning and enjoying you.  

“Halsin,” you mewled, caught in a half daze at the beast beneath you, your lover, your druid. This wasn’t the first time you explored each other while Halsin was in wild shape, but in this life, in this body, the sensations it brought felt so amazingly new.

His snout pressed against your clit, inhaling as his long tongue slithered inside your sex, curving wonderfully. Oh how you wished you had the magic or potion to speak with animals. You wanted to hear that animalistic tone laced in Halsin’s already deep voice.

A tremor flushed down your stomach as Halsin’s wolf savored you, careful with his sharp teeth. He lapped at you hungrily, the wolf’s breath so much hotter, heavier. You glanced down, meeting deep, glowing eyes that were piercing into you, a wet snout poking against you. With that sight and fresh sensations, it didn’t take long for another surge of ecstasy to fill your abdomen, rushing to its peak as your vision wavered momentarily. A loud wail sang from your throat as the wolf made a satisfying whine against you before his tongue glided back up your torso.

The wolf rose tall, his long tongue flicking over his nose and mouth where your wetness coated him. There was another burst of golden light as Halsin returned to his elven form, panting above you. “Forgive me, my heart,” he was apologetic but still smiling as he spoke. “I could not escape the sudden urge to…howl. And I fear my own lungs would not have done it justice.”

Catching your breath, you spoke between heavy sighs. “Oh, you felt the urge to just howl, was it?” You raised a brow, nodding cheekily towards your inner thighs, still tingling.

He chuckled, a deep hearty sound. “Ah, then you must forgive the wolf for also wanting to indulge.”

You burst into a fit of giggles and laughter as Halsin joined in on the moment of humorous bliss. His face was glistening with sweat, and his eyes had finally dimmed, returning to their normal hue of hazel. His sincere laugh warmed your chest, and you curled your arms around his neck, pulling him back down to you. His hair tie must have broken during his transition, as now his silky hair spilled freely down his face, tickling your cheeks.

“You might’ve woken the neighbors,” you said, smiling, sliding some of his hair behind one ear. “I don’t exactly live near any wolves.”

“Then let them presume they were dreaming.” He smirked, lowering his voice mischievously. “You were quite loud yourself, my heart. Perhaps they’ll suspect a wolf devoured you tonight.”

You playfully patted his chest, grinning wider now as you laughed together. After a few moments, the laughter subsided and Halsin released a deep breath as he regarded you. There was a new look in his warm eyes, a cloud of peace with storms of the deepest devotion he had for you.

Halsin leaned even closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. “I never thought I’d hear that sound again.”

Your fingers idly played with his hair. “What sound?”

“The sweet song of your laughter.” He took another incredulous breath, slightly shaking his head. “I never stopped missing it.”

Halsin did not wait for your response, his mouth was already pressing into yours, unable to stay away from your lips for too long. It was a long, passionate kiss, deep and teeming with the promise of all your affection for each other.

Completely consumed by him, it was easy to melt into his kiss, his warmth and strong body over you. But finding the strength, you broke the kiss, cupping his face with both of your hands. “I love you, too,” you whispered, staring deep into his eyes, “so, so much, my sweet Halsin.”

Halsin’s heart swelled at your words, to hear them again after a little more than a decade. He still felt the same tickle of nerves in his stomach, and he smiled happily before dipping to kiss you again. Your tongues moved languidly over the other, hot breaths mingling together, noses occasionally rubbing past each other. His heart thumped along to the blissful tune coursing through his veins. “I love you,” the timbre in his voice was lower, passionate. “I love you. I love you,” Halsin murmured again and again, feeling you smile against his lips.

After some time sharing more passionate, languid kisses, you repositioned yourselves in a seated position, sidling your backs up against the nearest couch. Halsin draped an arm around you, pulling into his side as one of your legs lazily nestled between his thick thighs. He felt so incredibly overjoyed, so lucky resting at your side. Your warm, naked bodies fit together perfectly. He was bristling with delight, and if you asked him to remain that way forever, entangled in each other’s arms, he’d do every and anything in his power to make it happen.

“I’ve always loved the bear,” you murmured, your voice filling in the long stretch of comfortable silence. “But I didn’t realize how much I missed the wolf. What a nice surprise.”

Halsin chuckled, the deep rumble softly shaking your head that rested on his broad chest. “Well, I myself sometimes forget the many shapes I can possess. And if I recall,” his voice dropped an octave, starved and daring. “You once took a liking to the tiger as well.”

You shivered at this reminder, inhaling a quick breath. There was a time, long ago, when you and Halsin were engaging in one of your many hunter-prey games. He would chase you through the forest, sometimes as himself, sometimes as the bear. But one time, however, you were pounced on by a great, saber-tooth, its rumbling growl making you moist. It was quite the night, to say the least.

“Mmm, I did indeed.” You sighed, feeling a pleasurable tickle at the memory. “You only showed me the tiger that one night. But there was a time it enticed me again… you were so incredible, so amazingly ravenous so—” Your stomach dropped before you could finish, stricken silence by the memory that flashed in your mind.

“So…?” Halsin hummed, kissing the top of your head.

Your heart rate began to spike, and by the way Halsin shifted to see you better, you knew he felt a change as well. It was too late to gloss over this. “Vlaakith,” you said bitterly.

Halsin tensed immediately. “What?”

“That was the last time I saw the tiger…” you sighed, your fingers unconsciously tracing the same pattern over his chest again and again.

“I…right.” His voice was distant, dry, like he was suddenly so far away.

You wanted to turn over, to hug him and erase the sting of those memories. But you couldn’t stop your thoughts from overriding you, a new curiosity that burned within you. The last thing you saw on the Astral Plane was Halsin, down on his knees, wounded with grief while all your friends surrounded him.

“Did you… did you return home after I…well…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say ‘died’ because it didn’t feel that way to you, not entirely. It was more like you simply fell asleep and then woke up on Earth: a child, into a teen, into an adult. A second life.

Halsin released a deep breath, like he wanted to slam the door to those memories. “I did not.”

You frowned, turning so you could look at him. You sat up, watching him as he gaped aimlessly down the center of your naked bodies. But you remained quiet, sensing he was not finished. You wanted to ask him so much but instead gave him a chance to further explain.

“I took to roaming again, for a little while.” He obliviously ran his fingers up and down your thigh, occasionally squeezing.

“What is a ‘little while?”

“Two years.”

You sulked a little, imagining him wandering through the depths of nature, never staying in one place permanently. It was once something Halsin craved for, something he enjoyed… until he met you. You helped him find his true nature, or at least a new nature. With you, it was easy to plant his roots. He had a home with you, with the community you both built together.

“Were you alone?” you asked, tentatively.

“I was.”

“Oh Halsin,” you whispered, reaching to cup his face. His eyes were starting to glisten, but no tears ever fell.

“I could not go back to our home. I was not ready yet.” He finally looked at you, leaning into your touch.

You felt your own eyes watering now, a stinging heat building in your throat. “I’m so, so sorry. You must’ve been so angry with me, maybe even hated me...” One tear slid down your cheek, then another as a dam of emotions broke through you. The sight of Halsin in the Astral Plane, emotionally broken beyond repair when you faded from his grasp, gone forever in his eyes. Your friends gathered around him, mourning, yelling, enraged. It made you feel the worst case of guilt possible.

It was Halsin’s turn to drag his hand under your chin, furrowing his brows in confusion as his thumb swiped under a fallen tear. “Angry?”

You sniffled a little, struggling to hold eye contact. “For what I did… I- Lae’zel… she must’ve been so angry too.” You remembered moving before thinking, seeing your friend’s life in fatal danger. So you acted. You didn’t think that you would actually—

“No.” The tone in Halsin’s voice made you look at him again. His eyes were calm, gentle, and full of everlasting love. “You would’ve done the same for anyone because that is who you are. I will not lie to you, my heart. Yes, I was irrevocably saddened, heartbroken, and missing you every day. But I was never angry with you, I could never hate you. Never.”

You let him caress your face for a moment, still sniffling softly as his words settled in. The tension in your chest began to ease, but it didn’t fully quell the pain you felt for him. Imagining him alone…

Halsin’s calm voice reached you again. “And Lae’zel, well, she only blamed herself. All of her anger, her rage, she aimed it within, wishing it was her instead.”

You sighed, believing every word. Lae’zel had solidified herself as one of your sisters. You knew without a doubt she would’ve done the same for you, would’ve switched places with you. You could only hope she eventually forgave herself. You peered at Halsin, who was still tenderly caressing your cheek.

“And you, did things…did it get better for you?”

Halsin released a deep breath, smiling meekly. “The wound never healed, but it did get a little better with time. Though I suspect it would’ve taken me into the greatest lengths of old age to get even close to fully healing.”

Your face fell, and you would’ve lowered your entire head were it not for Halsin still holding you.

“As for being alone,” he said, raising your gaze back to him. “It was not forever. Eventually, our friends found me, deep in the forests of Icewind Dale, two months or so after I passed through Neverwinter.”

You perked up at this, your quiet weeping starting to slow. “But you detest bitter winters, and you went so far north?”

“Mm, I did. I ventured mostly as the bear than the man. And I was quite away from civilization but…I seemed to forget how resourceful our friends can be.” A lightness entered his tone, and you couldn’t help but start to smile.

“Resourceful…or they simply asked the people of Neverwinter if they happened to see a tall, hulking elf pass by?”

Halsin laughed, kissing your tear-stained cheek. “Perhaps both. Nevertheless, after some tenacious encouragement, they convinced me to return home, that they would remain with me.”

You turned some more, massaging your hand down one of his arms, idly rubbing his biceps. “And did they stay?”

Halsin grinned. “Oh yes, for a few years actually. They made it feel as close to home again as was possible. All the banter, heavy and light conversations, reminiscing on our love for you… It is through them that the pain became more bearable.”

You gave a small smile, still heartbroken that he had to go through that kind of pain in the first place. But forever thankful for the friends who became your family.

“I’m glad they were there,” you said, sighing, already exhausted from the flood of emotions.

“As am I,” he responded, leaning in to give you a tender kiss. “But eventually it was my turn to encourage them to return to the lives they built. Slowly, they left, one by one.” He paused for a moment, watching you carefully, gently. “Lae’zel lingered the longest, but eventually she too returned to the red dragons, but not without consistent visits every so often.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze drifting off. Again, his updates brought you both joy and a hint of gloom. It was wonderful to hear that everyone had come together for the man you loved most, but it still pained you over the circumstances it was under. As if sensing your emotional conflict, Halsin whispered your name, drawing your attention back to him.

“Do not burden yourself with sorrow for me, my heart.” He took one of your hands and placed it near the center of his chest, over the powerful thumping of his heart. “For mine is no longer in pain. Whether through fate, the Oak Father’s blessings, or sheer luck, you have been brought back to me.”

You exhaled deeply, at a loss for words. You took one of Halsin’s hands and placed it over the center of your ribs, then closed your eyes. You inhaled a deep breath, focusing on the feeling of both of your pulses, the blood pumping throughout your bodies. You felt Halsin breathing in a similar fashion, feeling the heavy rise and steady fall of his chest. In a short time, his heart was beating to the tune of yours, and you couldn’t tell whose heart was whose. This must’ve taken great effort from him, for he was much larger, needing more effort for his blood to pump throughout his body. But still, you remained like that for a while, lost in the rhythm of your hearts.

When you opened your eyes, Halsin soon did the same. With a closed grin, you lifted his hand from your chest and kissed the back of his fingers. You could still hardly believe this night was happening, and yet the other part of you -who once lived in Faerûn- was so used to nights like this, wanting and needing more. Which made you wonder…

“So, assuming you can reopen a portal, do you… plan on going back?” You couldn’t restrain the abrupt flutter of nerves that passed through you. He was almost going to leave tonight, so close to slipping out of your life for who knew how long, possibly forever.

Halsin was silent for a few moments, considering. “That depends, are you by my side?”

A new wave of nerves, but for another reason entirely. “I mean… it would be nice to see everyone again…”

Halsin perked up, beaming, you could almost taste his excitement. “And they would be overjoyed to see you again! Just as I am.”

You returned the smile, his visible joy so infectious. The idea of seeing your friends again, of stepping foot onto Faerûn again was almost a mad thought after spending all this time living on Earth. It was exciting and invigorating, but you didn’t hold that energy for long, your mind pondering as you glanced off to the side.

Halsin calmed some when he noticed the shift in you, bringing his finger beneath your chin. “But your home is here,” he said softly, more so as a statement than a question.

“Yes. But Faerûn is my home, too. They’re my family, and they're still out there…” you sighed, conflicted.

“That is true. And now your family has grown.” He kissed the corner of your lips then the top of your cheek. “You do not have to choose, my love. I know your heart and I believe you have forged great bonds in this new world, ones that cannot easily be abandoned.”

You nodded in agreement, thinking of your closest family and friends. They may all just be human, and not have any special magic that’s innate to them or gifted to them by following a god, but they were still your family. Your Earth family. And yet, so were your companions who you adventured with, battling devils and gods and all manner of foes in between.

Halsin’s gentle, deep voice pulled you out of your mind. “Perhaps just a visit, then? Gale and I did not have much time to discuss how often travel between these realms would be possible, but if we can master opening the proper portal from time to time, I see no reason why you must say goodbye to one world permanently. But first—” he glanced around the calm, firelit, lavish living room. “I would like to see more of your realm for a while, should you wish.”

Your heart soared at this, excitement bubbling within you. It didn’t have to be as complicated as you were making it. And the thought of Halsin staying here with you for however long a while was, made you want to show him as much as possible. All the modern changes but also how nature was just as beautiful here, still unique and wild. But the very first priority: shopping for new clothes. His druidic garbs, as much as you loved them, weren’t exactly with the times. But they’d be perfect for a festival or convention, and the wheels were already spinning for some you could take him to. You suddenly felt eager to gauge his reaction to all the humans who dressed up as creatures and races that truly existed in another reality, on another plane.

“Always the problem solver.” You leaned into him but not too close where you’d break eye contact. “And you do remember the disguise-self spell? Though I very much love your—” You dragged one of your nails up the length of Halsin’s ear, stopping at the tip. He shuddered, eyelids nearly closing. “It would save you from a series of repetitive questions if we humanized them a bit.”

Halsin rumbled a hearty, genuine laugh, quaking your body. “Easily done, as long as I get to show you my true self in private.”

A spark flickered in your belly at his drop in tone. You tenderly kissed the tip of his ear, then his cheek, his jawline. Halsin simply sighed, reveling in the pleasure of your soft, sweet kisses and consistent adoration.

“So it’s settled then,” you said, strategically rubbing your leg over his thigh and accidentally against his newly hardening length. “There will soon be a time for reunions and new introductions. But for now… I’ll enjoy having you all to myself.”

Halsin groaned as you rubbed against him again, his hot blood rushing back to fill the swell of his cock once more.

You turned and swung your legs over him, officially and effectively straddling his hips, still damp for him and dripping more by the second. A new thrill of desire awakened your beating heart and you dipped down, capturing his lips in a needy, starving kiss.

Halsin was quick to reciprocate, his large hands roaming up the length of your back, pulling you into him. But you broke the kiss as a sudden realization entered your mind. Halsin instinctively leaned towards you, chasing your lips, already breathing heavily. You threw your fingers up, placing them on his mouth, halting him with a wicked smile.

“You know,” you began, “I just realized I was the one who was supposed to find you. But instead, you found me. How incredibly unfair of you.” You mock frowned, dragging a finger down his chest.

“And how would you have found me, my love?” He gazed at you, grinning, a curious glint in his sparkling hazel eyes.

“Maybe I would’ve remembered my other life sooner and tried to open a portal of my own.”

Halsin raised an inquisitive brow. “I was under the impression that this realm did not have magic in the way we know.”

“I’m sure I would’ve figured it out by way of science of course,” you teased, laughing lightly which only seemed to make Halsin smile wider. “Which is our version of magic.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, we can pretend this night hasn’t yet happened. I’ll return to Faerûn and wait for you to come find me.”

“Absolutely not!” you exclaimed, intentionally bouncing yourself atop his thighs which caused an abrupt groan from his throat. You glided your hips a little, feeling him twitch beneath you, which pulled the most euphoric sigh from his mouth.

You wanted to keep teasing him with your body, watching his eyelids weaken as he slipped away into the wells of his deepest desire for you. But it was your heart that made the next move as you stared at him sincerely, your expression shifting into something more serious, overcome with the love you had for your druid.

You started softly stroking his cheek, warmth pooling in you at the pure and utter devotion in his eyes. You knew he was only teasing you about leaving, but the thought alone made you feel ill. You had your druid back. He had you back, and neither time nor space had the power to keep you permanently apart. You both had another chance, and whatever may come, you were confident you’d have lifetimes of fresh chances to find each other.

Halsin’s eyes softened as his mouth relaxed into just a hint of a smile as he gazed at you. He could stare into your eyes forever. He could sit there with you forever. He’d create a protective bubble around you both, forgetting the world outside, forgetting time itself. He had always put nature first, but nature, for all the love and reverence he had for it– it could not fill his heart the way you do.

And when you next spoke, you looked directly into his beautiful eyes, ensuring he knew and felt every word as it flowed so lovingly from your lips. “I love you so much, my Halsin. And like I chose all those years ago, I still want to stay by your side. I’m so happy you found me.”

A flicker of gold flashed in his eyes, and his gentle finger brushed under your chin. “And I will always find you. In every life, my heart.”

And that's that! Is it me or is kinky sex draped in love just the best? Also, Bear Halsin is still supreme, I just wanted to show some love to his other wild shapes in this story.

Anywho, thank you so much to everyone who liked, commented and/or reblogged.🖤💜🖤💜 I hope you all enjoyed this emotional reunion, and thank you for taking the time to read this little novella that was supposed to be around 7k words at the most…😬