#not really yet but better safe than sorry with the warning
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viperify · 10 hours ago
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oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
☾₊⊹ Til’ The Moon n’ Back.
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Short Summary: This year you’ll spend another ordinary Valentine’s Day, all by yourself. Or that you think—until you receive a mysterious letter.
Warnings: 18+ only! soft impact play, brief fingering, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, also this is kinda ooc!Tom bc how do I make this man engage in Valentine’s Day activities.
A/N: Happy Voldemort’s Day to everyone celebrating.
wordcount: 2,4k
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Tom Riddle does not do love.
So why is it that every time you walk past him, his heart beats just a little bit faster?
He’s done everything to distract himself—drowning himself in books, studying more than what is usual, even for someone called Tom Riddle.
Yet, you never fail to leave his mind. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to get the thought of you—specifically your lips on his—out of his mind.
By sweet Merlin, that’s the worst part of it all.
──
It’s Valentine’s Day.
Safe to say—you aren’t interested in a relationship.
So it shouldn’t bother you that all of your friends are out with their partner. But it does, your chest tightening at the thought of spending another night alone on a day that’s meant to be celebrated with your loved ones. It’s always been like this though, they’ve had their fun, and you—well, you stayed behind.
You decide to head to bed early. Right after dinner, which was awfully boring with none of your friends around, you make your way back to your dorm. Or try to, at least. Because as soon as you turn the corner, someone bumps into you.
Not just anyone—Tom Riddle. Head boy, former prefect, top student in every class, teacher’s favourite, award winner… you could go on like this for hours. There is probably nothing in this world that he hasn’t achieved—except for finding a Valentine’s date, it seems.
“I am sorry,” you mumble as you crouch down to pick up a piece of paper he has dropped. And it’s really not that you wanted to know what was written on it—it must have been the familiar number that caught your eye—the number of your dorm to be exact.
Though slightly taken aback, you hand him the paper—or better—he rips it from your hands. For a moment when his lips part slightly, you think he might want to say something in return—maybe apologize for bumping into you—but nothing ever comes.
So you leave, shooting him a weak smile.
It’s not like you expected an apology from him. He has his close circle of friends, all of whom are from renowned pureblood families. Even if you wanted him to like you, look at you the same way you’ve looked at him for years, it wouldn’t change a thing. Tom Riddle was unreachable. Any girl that has ever been interested in ended up getting rejected, and you wouldn’t be one of them.
Yet, the rich scent of his perfume lingers, the way his eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment imprinted in your mind. His hands brushing over yours briefly, feeling his warmth, the warmth you’ve been craving to feel on your skin—
You shake your head. You’re interpreting too much into it.
──
Tom curses himself for almost blowing his cover.
After hours of contemplation, hours of sitting in front of a blank piece of parchment, he finally writes something down.
My dear—
He scoffs. Pathetic.
Scrunching up the paper, he discards it on the wooden floor of his dorm.
I hope this letter finds—
Definitely not.
Please meet me at the Astronomy Tower tonight at—
Please? Who is he to beg? You should be the one begging for— fuck.
Twenty crumpled-up pieces of parchment later, Tom’s had enough.
He opts for something shorter.
Astronomy Tower. 9pm. Don’t be late.
Perfect.
──
You are tucked under your duvet, putting the romance novel you had started on the nightstand. It was only 8pm, but with nothing else to do, sleep didn’t seem like the worst option. Soon enough, your eyelids flutter closed, and you drift off to sleep.
Though, it isn’t too long before a sharp knock on the glass of your window wakes you. It’s your owl, delivering a letter. Quite an unusual time for you to receive something, yet curiosity gets the better of you, and you open your window to get it.
No sender.
Reluctantly, you tear the envelope open, and your eyes skim over the words written on the parchment.
“Astronomy Tower. 9pm. Don’t be late.” You whisper, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. You don’t recognize the handwriting as anyone's you know, and as soon as you wipe over the words, the ink smears, vanishing, leaving you with an empty parchment.
At first, you are quite unsure whether to go. There’s no name on the letter, and especially on a day like today, there will be stricter enforcements of the curfew rules. Though, knowing yourself, you would have probably gone anyway. Even on a day like this, the moon and the stars are the only company you crave.
So you change, folding your PJs neatly on your bed, putting on the first skirt you find—though as soon as you step out of your dorm, you regret your decision. Tonight is cooler than usual, a soft breeze brushing past your skin, having you shiver. It’s too late to turn around, though. So you make your way, walking the route you normally take when you sneak out past curfew.
As you ascend the stairs to the tower, a figure leaning against the railing catches your attention. Only when you take a few steps closer do you recognize who it is. The brunette curls are unmistakably Tom’s, and for a moment your breath catches in your throat, halting your movements. Knowing that he is most likely on his patrol, you turn around to return to your dorm, but as you do just that, his voice stops you.
“You came.” He remarks quietly, without turning around.
It is him.
“You wanted to see me?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “Riddle, if this is some kind of—“
“Come closer.”
You walk forwards then, though reluctantly, and lean against the railing next to the brunette. It’s silent between the both of you for a while before he speaks up again.
“They fascinate you, don’t they?” He asks subtly, staring into the distance of the night sky. You follow his gaze, taking in the stars and moon on the otherwise pitch-black horizon. “You watch them each night when you can’t sleep.”
You turn your head then, looking at him briefly. You want to ask how he knows, yet you decide to keep it to yourself. Instead, you answer honestly.
“It’s a rare constant in my life. They help me calm down, especially after a long day.”
He gives you a soft nod in return, and silence returns between the both of you, left with owls howling in the distance. There’s still snow on the ground, and it must be below freezing temperature, because when another cool breeze brushes past you, you shiver, scrunching up into yourself.
“Why am I here, Riddle?”
Tom finally turns towards you then, a spark of something softer shimmering in his otherwise so strict chocolate-brown eyes, and he takes a measured step closer.
“You didn’t have any other plans tonight, did you?” He asks, in a way that’s implying he already knows the answer—because what does he not know—and you shake your head no.
“Then that is why.”
You part your lips to question him but are interrupted by his hand reluctantly reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your cheek, trying, testing, before his hand wanders to your neck. His thumb draws small, soft patterns on your jaw, and you tense slightly at the contact. He stops then momentarily, watching your softened expression, but when you don’t complain, he continues.
His gaze flicks to your lips, the air between the both of you growing thick with tension as he slowly leans in. Your surroundings fade into a blur, and before you know it, his lips are on yours.
Tom Riddle is kissing you.
The kiss isn’t what you’d expect of someone like him—it’s soft, tender, your lips moving in sync as his second hand rests on your lower back, pulling you closer.
Soon enough, he has you pressed against the railing, lips only parting from yours when a soft moan falls over your lips. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, then he goes back to kissing you as his fingertips trail up the soft skin of your thighs, stopping at the hem of your skirt.
“Okay?” He murmurs, waiting for a verbal agreement before turning you around, adjusting your position with a firm grip on your waist. He bunches the skirt around your hips, delivering a soft smack to the round curve of your now exposed ass.
A soft whimper falls over your lips, and you slightly lurch forward at the contact, but he is quick to reposition you, pulling you back to him.
It is most likely the choice of your underwear that has him go silent, fingers softly tracing along the lace of your burgundy thong, though he is quick to rid you of the last piece of fabric covering your lower body. Tom makes you step out of it, crouching down to lift your leg. You only faintly notice that he puts it in his pocket, and time to complain is sparse because his hands are back on your exposed skin within a second, cutting off your thoughts.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, drawing a soft mewl from your lips, “even more so than I thought.”
Another gentle smack, and you feel his hand gently massaging your thighs before they wander up further. He doesn’t proceed—he waits, lingering there for just a moment.
“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” He instructs, his voice soft, and you obey, parting your thighs to allow him better access. A whimper escapes your lips when Tom fully presses himself against you, making you feelthe problem you’ve caused him.
His hand leaves your thigh, traveling up until he reaches your already soaked heat, humming as his fingers swipe through your folds, collecting your arousal. One finger slips inside of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, and you can’t help but buck your hips into his touch.
A second finger enters you, stretching, preparing you for him. You appreciate it—but all you want is to finally feel him.
“Riddle, please— I need you.”
His fingers withdraw then, hand wrapping around your throat instead, tilting your head backwards as you feel his hot breath ghosting over your ear.
“Ask properly. What’s my name?”
“Tom, God— please let me feel you, Tom.” You croak out, whimpering in defeat.
He lets you go then, the sound of him undoing his belt cutting through the night. “Good girl. Sounds so good when you say it.”
He casts a warming charm on you, a pleasant heat spreading through your body, and the next thing you feel is his tip nudging against your soaked entrance, slipping inside of you with a single, slow thrust. He groans when he’s inside of you completely—and it might be the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
He’s told you to stay quiet—though that order is quickly forgotten when he sets a steady rhythm, fingertips pressing hard enough into your skin to leave bruises. The sound of his hips meeting yours with every thrust fills the air, accompanied by your moans and whimpers and occasional low groans of the man behind you.
“Spread your legs a little further for me, love.” Tom breathes, hand slipping between your legs once more as you do. Again, he finds your sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing the bud in slow, circular motions.
As your moans grow louder, walls clenching around him, he angles his thrusts slightly differently, his tip brushing over your most sensitive spots inside of you.
“Oh— Tom, don’t— don’t stop, fuck—“
His palm lands on your ass once more, but this time you arch your back into his touch, thighs trembling at the electrifying sensations shooting straight to your core.
With one of his hands on your waist, pulling you back into the sharp snaps of his hips, the other wraps around your throat again, pulling you flush against his chest. Like this he is able to reach even deeper, tip brushing against your cervix with every thrust, providing you with the perfect mix of pleasure and pain.
“Fuck— squeezing me so tight. That good?”
You only manage a nod in return, eyelids fluttering close as you near your climax, walls fluttering wildly around his invading length.
“Open your eyes and look at the sky when you come, darling.”
So you do.
With one last high-pitched moan, you tumble over the edge, hot, white pleasure rushing through your veins as your cunt clamps down around him, his hands on your hips as they stabilize you when your knees are about to give in.
Soon after, your mind still hazy with the aftereffects of your own orgasm, he empties himself inside of you with a low groan, hips stuttering as he is buried to the hilt, making sure you take all of him.
Both of you stay like this for a while, catching your breath. Only when the effects of the charm wear off does he pull out of you slowly, drawing a soft whimper from your lips. He fixes your skirt for you, takes care of his appearance before his arm wraps around your waist, helping you stand upright.
“What about my underwear?” You ask, pointing to the lace half hanging out of his pocket.
He tugs it inside completely then. “Don’t know what you are talking about.”
You roll your eyes, leaning back against the railing.
A slight smirk tugs at the corner of his lips but fades as he studies you in the faint glow of the moonlight, replaced by a more serious expression.
“Did so well for me,” he says, voice soft again, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
You blink in confusion. Surely he didn’t—
“I wish you could see yourself the way you see the stars and the moon.” He murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You are worthy of love.”
You shake your head. “Tom—“
Before you can protest, he presses his lips on yours, cutting off whatever words you were trying to form.
“I want you to teach me,” he exhales, wrapping his coat around your shoulders, “how to love. Teach me how to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
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this was requested by my lovely @riddleswhcre 🩷 thank you so much for requesting baby!! you already know I am not particularly happy with how this turned out, but I hope it was still somewhat alright. <3
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havethetouch · 1 year ago
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Ah man, this gonna be rough today or tonight I'm sure. See, when my Nana passed she left behind her dog Charlie, and Charlie lives next door to me with my Auntie and he is like.. old as fuck. 19, almost completely blind and deaf. He's a funky frail lil dude with Dementia so he acts like a puppy and screams a lot when he wants his momma. We call him lovingly a little tyrant because sometimes he sits down and wants to be "helped" up despite being able to get up himself but he will scream and for a little Maltese Yorkshire mutt he is fucking loud. Loud enough that I can hear him holler at 2am when he decides he doesn't feel like getting up himself you feel me? This loud. And the walls are thick af. So. Pretty sure he is on his way out. Like, at his age and all this is expected. But man today he had a fake-out were he just laid down and became a limp noodle and my aunt freaked the fuck out came over crying and shit - turns out nah, the dog ain't dead (yet) he was just very sleepy. I just put my hand on his ribcage and there was an even strong heartbeat so I calmed auntie down, checked the dog over, rolled him up in a blanky because it is a bit cold today and yeah... 5 mins later he was moving again and wanted to walk around a little. But I think he will go soon regardless of the quick improvement ngl. He refuses water and his favourite food so like... yannow? And this guy eats like a vacuum cleaner normally so I think this is the first sign. I brought him over to house so auntie can chill out a bit and sleep because the dog has been keeping her up since 2am and she is at her limit I think.
It's weird. I know this dog since I was a teen he was such a goddamn bastard back in the day and now he is a needy cuddlebug and now he probably will go soon. It is kinda weird too, because three of the five people we lost between 2020 - 2023 have left each a dog behind - my nana, my uncle and my dad. So it is like.. a living reminder of each of them is still around and one will go soon and idk my feelings man are all over the place currently while I keep an eye on Charlie. Made him comfy, will light up a fire early in the fireplace today so he has it cozy. Yah... idk. Needed to get those thoughts and feels a bit out of my head.
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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 2 months ago
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One hell of a team | In-ho x Wife!Reader |
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Summary: You will follow your husband anywhere.
Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Violence - Different back story for In-ho - Blood - Death - Use of (Y/N) - Reader gets called "love" -
The Frontman, the man with the most power within the island, to who the guards obey without question.
Was currently trembling under his wife pointed look.
"You want to enter the games?" You asked him, your tone cold and almost jugdmental.
In-ho calmed himself down. It was an idea that stayed with him after the death of the Chairman and even more with how player 456 had insisted the last two years in finding them. He had played before and won, he knew how terrible others could be, he had walked out like a new man, used the money for himself and you. Never really gave much thought on how many lives were lost.
But, for some reason he wanted to go again.
"Im going with you"
His glass of wishky fell onto the floor, the loud crash did nothing to bother you while you ate.
"No, thats not happening. I need you here to control the games and guards" In-ho started trying to get a valid reason to why you defenetly should not come.
"Oh, you need me to? Well I need you here. With me. With our family. How do you think I would do seeing you there ? I still remember how you got when you came back from these the first time"
"That was different" The Frontman said taking a deep breath "I wont be just one more player, it will be like when the Chairman went in"
"That still does not ease my mind" (Y/N) responded "Till death do us a part and follow you anywhere" you recited showing him your weeding ring. "Remember?"
In-ho felt his chest got thight at the sight and the memory of the small yet full of love weeding you two had back when life was more simple.
"Alright, you can come with me. Its not like you would wait for my approval" he responded smiling at the end "But no one must know that we are married, you understand that ?" He added now serious
"Of course, its what makes more sense, we will just casually meet there and see how it plays" You nodded to him "And please, better clean up that glass before someone steps on it"
"On it, love"
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
For the most part pretending not to know each other was easier than expected. While you knew the guards knew who you two were you were still a bit scared. Specially during the green and red light, since both of you had got separated and now you were froze in your spot.
"You need to move" In-ho said from behind his arm playing along "Follow me in the next sing, alright? Just take my hand"
"Im scared, im sorry" You said feeling guilty over wanting to be there with him and starting to fail on the first game no less.
"I know, I was too. But im here, just follow me"
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
You had to hide your smirk when he pressed the circle to go on with the games, you knew he would do it just to piss off Player 456 and make things more cahotic.
He went with the rest and stood besides you trying himself not to smile at you.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
The first approach to Gi-huns team was tense to say the least. You two had voted circle and even worse In-ho had been the vote that ended the tie.
But with his own charisma and yours you two got to be on his good side.
Till In-ho decided to talk, really you sometimes forgot who sassy he could be.
"And some picked umbrella?" He asked faking suprise when he had seen it on first hand. "Most of them died I assume"
You could see the look on player 456 and decided to be more sensitive
"Hey, dont be like that. Im sure they went in blind and did not know what it was about" You said keeping a safe distance so no one would think you two were together or knew each other before the games.
In-ho was having too much fun.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
That first night they both were in their respective beds. Still keeping their false relationship. However once (Y/N) was sure all were asleep she went towards In-ho who was awake like he knew she would be coming to him.
"Are you alright?" He asked in a whisper, worried that for her this would be too much.
"Im fine, I wanted to see if you were fine"
He nodded not saying a thing but taking her hand.
"Also, I saw you break that fight, really ? When did you even learn to do that ?" This made him smile and hold her hand thighter "Really! I only see you in your office all the time"
"You think I would come in here without knowing how to defend myself or you?"
She smiled at him, blushing in the dark. "No....I just thought all you did was be in your office and give orders"
In-ho rolled his eyes "Just wait till we are out of here, i will show you just how fit im"
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
The six legs game was both a chaos and funny. Honeslty you could not help yourself on hugging him and player 456 (who was slowly getting on your soft side) as you saw a team win.
However the shoots that came for these who did not survive were too much. You would swear In-ho gave the guards a cold stare because you would flinch sometimes.
"Hey, dont worry they wont shoot the ones who havent played" Player 456 reassured you with a calm tone
You nodded, knowing that even if you lost they wont shoot you or In-ho. It was still sweet to see him trying to calm you down.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
"Not a word" He said during the night when you two were able to talk again.
"I was not going to say a thing, but you did in on purpose or were you really missing ?"
In-ho closed his eyes knowing you would later get the recording of him missing during the game and use it against him.
"It was all planned" he said trying to sound as convincing as he could.
"Whatever you say Honey"
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
The game of making pairs gave you nausea because of the carousel kept spinning around. And the rounds were stress again. The worse part was getting separated from In-ho who find you seeing how two players were dragging you so they could have the number they needed.
You havent see him get that angry in years, his protective self being on as he pulled one from the neck and punched the other one.
He kept punching almost forgetting there was a game you two were supposed to play.
"Leave him we still need two more" You urged only for a guard to shove two confused and scared players besides you and In-ho.
"We got them" He assured getting your hand and going to one room.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
"In-ho!! (Y/N)!!" The worried screams of Gi-hun filled the place as he looked for both of you.
Even if he had promised to try and dont get attached to new players and survive he could not help but feel a connection with both of you.
"Gi-hun!" In-ho's voice called making him look over and see him coming towards the rest with you by hand something that made him curious but decided not to ask.
"Im glad to see you two alright" Gi-hun said seeing just a few bruises on you, and noticing blood on In-ho knuckles.
You catched his eyes and went to explain "He saved me" you told the rest looking at them then at In-ho who was looking back at you "I would have not made it otherwise"
The look of love you two shared was so genuine, some wonder if you two were together but trying to be discrete to protect yourselfs.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
"They will most likely attack us tonight" Gi-hun explained as he showed the fork the guards had left when the food was given.
The idea only assented itself when the men returned from the bathroom, with blood on them. 
"And what do you propouse us to do?" In-ho asked all of the Xs were in a circle trying to listen to what Gi-hun had to say.
Gi-hun told the others his plan, honestly you thoguht it was nusts, it wont work. They were far suprassed on numbers but you had to shut yourself up.
You could tell your husband was both amazed by it and even kind of respecting it. Or at least that what he showed to him. He needed Gi-hun's trust after all.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
"Hide well" In-ho said besides you in a low tone "We can trust the guards but till they get here we cant trust the others"
You nodded knowing that very well since this was a typical phase of the game for years.
"We will be safe" You said holding his shoulder. "Do what you have to do, dont worry about me" You tried to make him feel at ease but he could not. The only thing that scared him more than anything were the other players trying to get to you.
"Just hang in there" He responded his forehead against yours.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
The fight was on its hot spot. The players were killing each other without a second thought.
Nothing like living it, even if you have seen this type of thing multiple times. Its was unnerving to see them just going at each others troath. The screams and cries were too much for a moment, the dark did nothing to help.
Thats when you felt it. Someone had dragged you out from under the bed and was now on top of you. You saw the player move their left hand ready to Strike at you. You tried to punch and defend yourself but the person on top was too strong.
A cold scream left your mouth as the fork pierced your shoulder.
You could not help it, the adrenaline and anxiety was getting on you.
"In-ho! In-ho help me please" You screamed for him, your husband the love of your life.
"Shut up, the next one will be your neck" The person said and for a moment you saw it. Dying in here and leaving In-ho.
Till you felt the person being pushed and the screams of them. You blinked trying to make sense.
It was In-ho, he had taken the fork from the player and was now piercing the neck of the player, not even leaving a chance for them to survive.
"GO HIDE NOW!!" In-ho ordered, he being scared himself and angry. He saw red when you were dragged and it was for the brutal grip Gi-hun had on his arm that he did not move faster.
You did as told getting under another bed and making sure no one could reach you.
"You fucking scum! How dare you lay hands on my wife" In-ho almost screamed too angry to see that the player was now dead. All his face and hands where covered in blood.
"Stop it!! They are dead, we need to continue the plan, the lights will be back soon" Gi-hun said taking him and pulling him away from the dead player.
"Get (Y/N), and be ready" Gi-hun told him trying to keep himself calm even when he was close to jump over and save you and In-ho. He wondered if he had hear it right, you were his wife?
In-ho did not waste time, searching for you in the dark till he noticed you. He went quick, pulling yourself out from the bed telling you its was him.
"Shh shh its me, its over dont cry Love" He said trying to make you feel better.
"In-ho?" He nodded and you cried harder "In-ho I was so scared"
"I know love I know, just a bit more alright? It will be over soon. Listen once the guards come in and we follow Gi-huns plan do not come. Someone will come and get you"
"Im going with you, im not leaving you in a bullet fight!"
"You know nothings gonna happen to me, I want you here, safe, alright?"
Finally you accepted.
"I love you In-ho"
"I love you too Love"
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
As In-ho had said when the guards got back after the fight one took you, Player 120 tried to protest but was put back in her place by other guard.
"You are under suspect of have been part of the riot. You are now eliminated from the games"
The guard said playing his role, starting to get you out of the room while you screamed following the act.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
"Apologies Madam, orders from the Front Man" The guard said bowing once you two were outside and out of reach from the others players.
Even if you were still breathing hard you nodded. "Dont worry, just take me to him". The guard nodded.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
He knew he was needed in the control room but refused to let you alone like that. He went to your share room, his heart broke at your image, bruises and blood over you. A guard was checking your shoulder but left after he order them to.
Silence fell over both of you as he went to you and hugged you careful not to hurt your shoulder.
He removed his mask to look at you properly.
"Im sorry, I should have never let you come, I should have stopped this sooner" He said with pain in his voice
"Dont blame yourself, I told you I was going in with you. This was not your fault In-ho" You reassured him feeling sad and worried over him.
"I cant not blame myself" He gently passed his hand over your cheeck "You are the best thing in my life and I almost lost you because of my own desires, never again"
You two kissed softly grounding yourselfs. You two were safe and together nothing else matters from now. Only the love and devotion you two had for each other.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
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deathbxnny · 2 months ago
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Can I request angst for arcane characters x reader. Where they argued with each other and then later on reader is hanging on to dear life (READER SAVE ISHA FROM DEATH PLEASE! IM COPING-)
Arcane women with an s/o that dies after an argument. | Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn x Gn!Reader
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So I may have taken this idea in a more extreme direction, ahaha... Anyway, thanks for the great request and I hope you'll enjoy!!<3
(I'm sorry in advance-)
Content: Heavy angst, arguments, spoilers for season 2, established romantic relationships, blood, fatal injuries, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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》VI
Your argument was a petty one. At least in her humble opinion, at least. She warned you not to push her too far, to not bring up Caitlyn when it wasn't needed. But you ofcourse refused to listen, and it ended in a full-blown screaming match she wasn't proud of. You were just looking out for her, scared she'll lose herself under the bright lights of the fighting pit and the flashing bass of the clubs. The alcohol consumption was destroying her, too, and you wanted to get her out of this hellscape.
You were always so kind and patient with her, something she was always so grateful about. So why did she tell you that she hated you? That you were overbearing? That Caitlyn was far better than you ever could be? She didn't know. She really didn't.
And any apology she may have had died on her tongue when you ran out of her dingy little showroom in tears. Oh, how her heart ached at the sound of YOU apologizing for not being good enough. The clarity of what she had done hit her like a truck then, making her finally see what she had become.
The shame made her turn even worse, your warnings and pleas feeling undeserving to follow. Days turned into weeks, then months, and she eventually forgot all about everyone... except for you. The image of your brokenhearted figure haunts her at every moment. Especially her dreams.
So when Jinx came to her for help, she saw it as a sign. She needed to apologize and get you back. She was desperate for it. She couldn't take it any longer without you. But alas... karma was an odd thing. Instead of hitting her like she wished, she found you being the victim of it instead. Whatever God was out there must've hated her terribly.
You were fighting with the Enforcers during the invasion of the Noxians and the Herald. Battle was never your strong suit, but you were never the type to back down from anything. Especially not when it came to the defense of your home. You had the option to leave. In fact, Caitlyn was the one to give you it. Yet, instead, you grabbed a uniform and headed to the Frontlines at her side. You were always so loyal, so goddamned good.
It was, therefore, not surprising that you threw yourself over Vi when she was being shot at. You had only briefly seen each other before it was time to move, and you gave her a welcoming, weak smile that made her heart hammer against her chest. She wasn't deserving of you. "Why... Why the fuck did you do that?!" She yelled over the sound of chaos above her, when she was finally able to get you somewhere safe. Giving her a bloody grin, you flinched a little at the pain in your chest, an arrow protruding from it. The crimson liquid drenched the blue of your uniform and Vi's palm that she desperately pressed against it. But there was no hope. It was over.
The gods wanted you dead.
Placing your hand over hers, you stopped her frantic movements with a chuckle turned cough. "I... I'm sorry-" "-Stop apologizing! I should be the one doing that! I'm the reason this all happened, I... I'm so fucking sorry." Her tears dropped onto your face, and you reached up with the last of your power to wipe them away. You couldn't breathe anymore. Your heart was beginning to fail, and the primal panic set in in the face of death. Intelligible words spilled out of your mouth, not making any sense to anyone but you. You wanted to tell her how much you still loved her.
But with a deep, rattling breathe your suffering was finally over, and your hand dropped to your side limply. Vi could only stare at you in horror, unable to say a word anymore, before she was dragged away by some Enforcers. She tried to fight her way back to you, yet there was no use.
The last thing she saw was your body being covered by debris from the falling ceiling.
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》JINX
You and Jinx had gotten into an argument in the Herald's weird compound over Vander's well-being. Whilst she, too, didn't trust Viktor, she ultimately had no other ideas on how to turn him back to normal. And that's all she really wanted. She wanted her father back so badly that she and Vi were both too blinded to see how odd this entire thing really was. And it didn't help that you were worried about Isha's safety too.
Everyone here felt too robotic to be human. They didn't have real emotions or motivations other than what their leader had already preached about. It all felt superficial and lifeless, like they were husks and empty shells of people. But alas, you were the only one who saw it. Everyone basked in the warm sun and heavenly aura, never daring to glance into the darkness around them in fear of what they may see. The people that were "healed" didn't seem really healed. And you wondered if the Herald himself was blinded too.
Either way, it led to a huge argument in which you asked her to get Vander and everyone else rounded up to leave immediately. She was confused at first, but it started to frustrate her how you couldn't understand how much this meant to her. This was the first step to freedom and having her family back. A family she always wanted to have with you. Jinx got a small taste of that with Isha around now and never wanted to lose it again. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something really bad was going to happen if you didn't get out of here now. It ended with you both going your separate ways for the time being, mainly because you refused to argue in front of the poor small girl.
You avoided each other like the plague in the compound, and Jinx ignored you out of pettiness when you tried to reconcile. The safety of the family you've created was also important to you. More than she'll ever understand. But alas, no one could convince the blue haired girl of talking to you again. Not Vi. Not Isha. Even Vander tried his luck by slightly pushing her towards you. She always took everything so personally. So much so that her stubbornness often caused the death of others she cared about.
And just as she thought that she might have finally escaped that fate, the world had to once again prove her wrong.
The Noxians were attacking, wanting to get ahold of Vander, who had gone crazy and aggressive in response. Calming him down was impossible, and fighting off an entire army of trained warriors even harder. Jinx was panicking, trying to look for you and Isha in the dense, chaotic crowd, until she saw the small girl sprint towards the crazed Warwick with her gun in hand. She was quick to understand what she was trying to do and attempted to stop her, but Vi held her back. But the girl wouldn't die today. No, at least that part of her wish would come true, as she wouldn't lose her family today... just you. Her entire world.
You came sprinting out of the masses, practically tossing Isha into safety as you grabbed the gun from her. Aiming it up at Vander, things slowed down around you when your eyes met Jinx's horrified ones. Her screams echoed in your mind whilst you mouthed "I love you" to her and pulled the trigger, hoping that everyone made it out safe in the end.
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》CAITLYN
The funerals of the deaths that were caused by Jinx's actions were all cold and grim. All of them evoke deep hatred in Caitlyn, who now stood at her last one, most guests having cleared out by now in grief. Looking back, she wondered when everything went wrong. After careful analysis, she came to the conclusion that your argument sparked most of the events in a way.
You were feeling betrayed by her lack of presence in her relationship ever since she and Vi had a mission to complete. She never let you in on what exactly they were up to, and she now realises that it was wrong of her. Cait could see how you might have thought that she had something with Vi that was never there. Sure, she was a pleasant company, and the only thing she had in very dangerous moments... but it was never more than that. She was a friend and that's it.
You, on the other hand, were her betrothed, the person she swore her life to and wanted to marry in the coming spring. Her mother had always approved of you two and practically pushed her to the next step, especially at how close she was with you. Cassandra had adopted you as your mother in law from day one, to say the least. And yet... she had disappointed her with the way she yelled at you to get a grip. Caitlyn was so stressed and exhausted in that moment that she couldn't think straight and let it out on you. Something she regrets deeply, perhaps even more than never being able to tell you how sorry she was now.
A hand came to rest on her shoulder, her mother’s stern, yet sympathetic expression greeting her. "It's time." She said, confirming the closing of your casket. Yes, this was your funeral. You had thrown yourself on top of her mother once the ceiling came crashing down. She lived with minor injuries whilst you were crushed by the debris. It was all so fast. Your reflexes were impressive as always. And it cost you your life. You were dead. Gone. She still couldn't believe it, even after gazing at your body for hours on end now.
The rage and anger turned into unspeakable hatred, one she could never shake for as long as she lived. She'd get her revenge one way or another. Even if it means to burn the entirety of Zaun down in your name to achieve it. But instead of voicing it, she took a deep breath and nodded. "Very well." She whispered, not trusting her voice anymore. The guilt was eating her alive, and she couldn't help but sway a bit on her feet at how nauseous she felt. You were always so scared of the dark and tight spaces. This was your worst nightmare, and she couldn't stop thinking about how scared you must've been in your last moments. Her mother said that you cried out Caitlyn's name before you stilled.
And so, as the casket's lid began shifting over your cold, stiff body, she stretched herself ever so slightly to catch last glimpses of your slumbering expression.
She may never forgive herself... but she'd make the undercity beg for her forgiveness instead. It was time for justice to prevail at last.
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godmadeaterribleerror · 1 month ago
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Still You Want Me
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Main Masterlist
Read on A03!
Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, a little angst if you squint, pre-established relationship.
Summary/Warnings: Dean's fought the worst evil in the world, but only one thing has really managed to scare him. His pregnant wife.
Author's Note: Request from an anon!! I got emotional with it, and I'm very sorry about that but I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2.9k
“We got three hours left.” Dean returned to the parked Impala, sorting through the bags in his hands. “But we can make it back in two if I-“
Sam shook his head, taking his bag of bird feed—trail mix, but the pointless kind without any M&Ms—from Dean with a frown. “Two’s a bit stretch, don’t you think? I mean even for you, Dean, and it’s not like we’re in a rush-“
“You’re not in a rush, Sammy.” Dean muttered, dumping the rest of the snacks in the backseat. “I got a pregnant wife who’s left me three voicemails about how she’s either gonna castrate me or give me head, and-“
“Gross, dude.” Sam walked around the car, making a scrunched bitch-face of disgusting. “All you needed to say was that’s she’s got mood swings-“
“Don’t call them mood swings.” Dean dropped behind Baby’s wheel, saying Her name with a sigh. “She hates that. And you can’t charm your way out of like I can.”
“I think I could.” Sam shrugged. “She likes me more.”
“She’s my freakin’ wife-“
“She loves you.” Sam grabbed his phone as they pulled out of the lot. “She likes me. I’ve never been threatened with castration-“
“Yet.” Dean muttered. “Cas thought he was safe until he got a shade of yellow that was too red for the nursery. I mean, yellow is yellow, Sammy, but she threatened to cut off his wings-“
Sam frowned. “I don’t think she could do that-“
“Trust me, man.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “She’d find a way.”
Sam just nodded, because they both knew Dean was right. He was pretty goddamn sure that, if She wanted—or if Dean pissed Her off enough—She’d figure out how to send him somewhere worse than the Empty, bring him back, then start sobbing and apologizing on Her knees all within a ten-minute span. Then She’d probably give him a blowjob, he’d saying the exact wrong dirty talk, and she’d bite off Little Dean. Shit, he’d only been gone four days for the hunt, but half that time had been spent on the phone, reassuring Her he was being safe, the hunt wasn’t a part of any world-ending scheme from a new big bad, and he’d be home soon. The time that Dean wasn’t on the phone, Sam was, promising he wouldn’t let anything happen, that Dean was sleeping well and looking at the baby names list She’d sent, and that he’d called Eileen so she wouldn’t worry either.
Annoyingly, Sam had been keeping his promises to Her. Dean read the baby names list because Sam wouldn’t let him leave the table until he did, Eileen had gotten two calls, and Dean was being safer than he’d ever been in his freaking life. At this point, he was pretty sure the pregnancy was just one long scam to make him take care of himself. He was drinking and hunting less after Her breakdown that she’d lose him, driving a little slower—just a little, he wasn’t a blind old lady—after the ice incident got him the silent treatment for three days, and he’d even tried some of Sam’s rabbit food. He’d spat it out, but he’d tried it. For Her, for the baby, and because he was terrified for his life.
Dean loved Her more than every pie in the freaking universe, but She was freaking terrifying right now. She might be the only thing he’d ever really been afraid of. Planes he could avoid. Ghosts and monster he could kill. Hell, even Lucifer had been better. At least the son of a bitch hadn’t begged to give Dean a hand job, then started sobbing because Dean tried to move it to sex and they didn’t feel pretty enough for sex. And if Lucifer had done that, Dean wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t give a shit about Lucifer. 
But he gave a shit about Her. Every time She cried it felt like someone was stabbing him, but he had less and less of a damn clue for how to help her the more pregnant She got. She’d said she felt ugly, he’d told Her she was beautiful, and that her tits looked better than ever, and She’d started accusing him of not loving her tits before. He’d missed one phone call and She’d sent Cas to teleport him home. He’d gotten the wrong candy bar and She’d had a breakdown about him not loving her enough to get the right one.
That last one was why the gas station had taken so long. Dean had triple checked every single snack he’d bought, and added a few extras just in case she changed Her mind. He’d even had Cas text him a second list after She’d told him all her requests over the phone, out of fear that he’d missed even a single one. Even now, on the road, he was running through everything one last time, because he’d gotten five different Gatorade colors, but maybe She’d want a sixth, or two of the same color, or only one color and he’d get yelled at because She didn’t even like orange-
“Hey!” Sam pulled Dean out of his thoughts with a shout. “Phone!”
“Wha-“
Sam said Her name, holding Dean’s phone in front of his face. “She’s calling you-“
“I got that.” Dean snatched the phone, shooting Sam a glare. “And that’s not safe, Sammy. Gonna get us fuckin’ killed-“
“Yeah, sure, Dean.” Sam just shrugged—even though Dean was right, that was dangerous—and nodded to the phone. “I’d pick up if I were you-“
“Shut up.” Dean muttered, ignoring Sam’s laugh as he answered the call. “Hey, baby, we’re-“
“Dean!” Her voice was a half-shriek through the phone, and Dean winced. “Holy shit, you’re alive, that’s good-“
“Course I’m alive, I promised I would be-“
“But it’s not up to you!” She was pacing. Her voice had grown frantic and high, so She was pacing. “Monsters don’t ask before they kill you, and they’d defiantly want to kill you, and Sam told me he’d take that bullet but I don’t want him to die either, and you’re both amazing hunters but if you die now, you can’t come back, and I’d miss you, I miss you now, why aren’t you home, you dick, I fucking hate you-“
Dean swallowed, saying Her name slowly as Sam snickered at his side. Asshole. “Take a breath-“
“Don’t tell me how to breathe, Winchester, I’ve been breathing my whole fucking life-“
“I know, sweetheart, I have too-“
“You’ve never had to breathe while pregnant-“
“And I’m not planning to, ever, but- just listen-“
“We should get you pregnant, it’s only fair-“
Sam started to cackle, Her voice loud enough he could obviously hear every word. It wasn’t really helpful. 
“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a death glare that just made him laugh more. “Sweetheart, we’ll be there soon. I promise.“
“Okay, but don’t go too fast, if you’re far, because you promised me you’d drive carefully, and you need to be safer. I don’t want to lose you.” She started to sniffle. Shit. “I can’t lose you, De, I need you, the baby needs you, and Sam and Cas are cool but they’re not you and I want you and the baby wants you. It wants you more, it hates when your gone, it just keeps kicking me and if you die I’ll be a terrible mother with a baby who hates me-“
Dean snapped Her name, pressing the Impala’s pedal to the floor. He needed to be home soon. “Listen to me. I’m not gonna do anything stupid like die, and you’re never gonna lose me. Plus, our baby won’t hate you. It’s half me. It can’t.”
There was a slightly static hum from the other side, and Dean sighed.
“I know you miss me, baby, and we can get you whatever you’re craving, but-“
“I do miss you, De.” Her voice was soft and pleading through the phone. 
But it wasn’t Her crying voice. That was her-
“I miss your cock, too. I miss touching you, and why is your bed so stupid and big-“
Dean chuckled, shaking off the whiplash. “Because I’m stupid and big-“
He could hear Her pout through the phone. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, and our baby’s gonna be a genius-“
“Because they’ll get their brains from you, pretty girl.”
“Shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Dean leaned slightly forward, checking a highway sign. “Hour and a half, okay? Then I’ll be home.”
“Fine.” She mumbled. “I love you. Be careful.”
“I love you too, baby. And I’m always safe.” Dean waited for Her sigh, letting her hang up first. He’d learned to do that the hard way. “Not a word, Sammy, or I’ll shoot you.”
Sam raised his hands, palms up. “I didn’t even open my- got it.”
Dean turned his scowl back to the road, and he could be safe and get home in an hour. Both could be possible, and She’d never have to know that he’d been going 15 over the speed limit. And if She started to catch on, Dean could distract Her with his hands and dick and mouth, because—as hot as she was when she was pissed—Sam said stress wasn’t good for the baby.
They made it forty-five minutes of mostly safe driving—Dean’s hands gripping the wheel and listening to the music at a deafening volume, Sam texting Eileen and pretending he wasn’t bothered by the deafening music—before another incident.
Cas appeared in the back seat, said Her name instead of hello, Dean—already a bad sign—and looked almost genuinely scared. Dean had never seen his face do that before—red and sheepish like a child being scolded by a dinosaur—and it was a little off-putting.
He was used to Cas doing this enough to not swerve off the road, but he was still pissed. “Fucking hell, Cas, a warning would be nice-“
Cas frowned, then leaned forward, turning down the music. “Did you not hear what I said.”
“No, the music was on, I know you said-“
Cas said Her name again with Dean. “It was her message. I would, ah, prefer not to repeat it.”
Sam blinked, turning in his seat. “Why, is she-“
“She is well.” Cas’ eyes stayed on Dean in the rearview mirror. “She is feeling some very… confusing emotions. Towards Dean.”
Sam frowned. “Confusing? How-“
“She told me to relay to Dean that she hates him, and she hates hunting, and if he’s not home in forty-five minutes she’ll leave him, but she can’t leave him because she loves him more than life and she cannot live without him. Specifically his smile, voice, hands, stupid flirting that did this in the first place, and,” Cas swallowed, his voice dropping slightly as his face grew red. “Big cock.”
Dean smirked slightly—she was a menace, but damn it if he didn’t love his girl—as Sam paled next to him.
“By this,” Cas mumbled. “I assume she was referring to the baby. Which is in good health. I checked this morning.”
“Good. Thanks, Cas, but,” Dean sighed. “This could’ve been a phone call-“
“I was instructed to deliver it in person. To make sure you were safe, and driving carefully.” Cas leaned forward with a frown. “The speed limit on this highway is meant to be-“
“I know what the speed limit is.” Dean grumbled, refusing to ease his foot off the gas. “I’m tryin’ to get home, Cas.”
“I believe she would prefer you get home slower, rather than sacrificing your safety.” Cas let out a long sigh. “Although, I will admit I’d prefer you return quickly. I am not equipped to handle a pregnant woman alone, despite reading all of the books on the subject I could find. And, uh,” Cas said Her name with a red face. “Is frightening in this state.” 
Dean sighed. “Thirty minutes, dude, can you hold down the fort-“
“He could take you now?” Sam cut in with a small frown. “Cas could zap you back to the bunker, and I could drive Baby home.”
“Sammy-“
Cas nodded. “I agree with Sam’s plan. If you could pull over, Dean-“
“I’m not gonna pull over!” Dean snapped. “I can get back just fine myself!”
“But I could-“
“You won’t always be there, Cas.” Dean grunted through his teeth. “I gotta be able to take care of my family by myself. Shit, I’m doing all the safety bullcrap for it, and I’m hunting less.” He said Her name, his grip on the wheel painful. “She’s gotta know I can take care of her, and the baby. I said I’d drive home, so-“
Sam cut Dean off a sigh. “Dude, she’s gonna care way more that you’re home with her.”
“Sam is correct.” Cas said, and Dean could feel his gaze through the mirror. “I attempted to make her breakfast this morning, and she started crying. When asked, she told me that you make it better.” Cas frowned. “It was cereal.”
“C’mon, man. Let Cas take you home.”
Dean glanced over to find Sam giving him puppy eyes—the bitch—and groaned. “Fine. But if I see one scratch on Baby-“
“You’ll kill me, yeah, I know.” Sam unbuckled as Dean pulled over, not sounding nearly threatened enough. “Let’s move.”
It took a minute for Dean to get all the snacks, but the moment the last bag was in his arms Cas grabbed him by the shoulder, the world because a spinning rush, and he was home.”
“Dean!” 
He was barely on steady legs when She slammed into him, sending him stumbling slightly back as his arms wrapped around her, careful not to push too far into the baby bump.
“Hey, Sweetheart. I heard you missed me-“
“Of course I missed you, you asshole!” She pushed off of him, shoving his chest slightly. “Do you have any idea how many pies are just rotting in the fridge for you! You said the hunt would be fast, Dean, but I was stuck alone for four fucking days-“
Dean frowned. “Wasn’t Cas-“
“Cas doesn’t count!” She screamed, and over her shoulder, Cas didn’t look that offended. He’d probably gotten this outburst—and the following, tearful apology—at least twice already. “Cas isn’t you! He didn’t knock me up and then leave me-“
Dean thought about pointing out that he had not left Her, but thought better of it and let her keep shouting. She usually calmed herself down. 
Usually.
“And Cas is an angel, and he’s been okay, and I feel so bad because I was such a bitch to him, but he deserved it! He wasn’t you! And I missed you and I hate you, Dean, I fucking hate you, why weren’t you home-“
Dean caught Her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to Her knuckles. “I’m home now, baby-“
“I know.” She whispered, crumbling in half a second into Dean, clinging to him like a koala. “And I missed you so much, De. I can’t do the laundry with this stupid bump, I can’t do anything, I’m useless and I’m a bitch and I think made Cas cry-“
“I’d pay to see you make Cas cry,” Dean muttered Her name, running a slow hand through her hair. “And you’re not useless. You’re growing a person, that freaking awesome and insane-“
She tilted her head back, pretty eyes glossy and wide on Dean’s. “But what if I mess it up? What if I fuck the baby up and you leave me-“
“I’m never gonna leave you.”
“But I’ve been mean-“
“You’re always mean, baby.” Dean grinned at her, letting his affection show in his voice. “And it’s always pretty freakin’ hot. And you aren’t gonna fuck up the baby, and I’m not gonna leave you, but,” he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “If you wanna make Sammy cry a little more, I think he’ll deserve it.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I’m not making Sam cry-“
“He said you had mood swings.”
She gasped, hitting Dean’s chest.  “You’re a snitch-“
“Gotta spread the love somehow.” Dean shrugged, squeezing his hands on Her as he dropped his voice down. “But I can think of a few other ways, just you and me, to spread some better love.”
She flushed—already putty in Dean’s arms—and almost dragged him back to their room. 
And this made it worth it. All the screaming and flying objects and threats, all the living in cautious fear in his own damn home, was more than worth it for this. Not just the awesome sex—sex was always awesome, sex with Her was better than almost anything, and sex with pregnant Her was what Dean imagined crack was like—but the way that, in the end, She smiled at him no matter what. She smiled and giggled and moaned, proving to Dean in a million ways both between the sheets and after that she didn’t really hate him, and he got to rest his head on her stomach and feel a small kick near his brow. Her fingers combed through his hair peacefully, all her noises made of content, and everything was more than worth it.
Worth pushing through the worst of the screaming and moods—just like She’d pushed through all of his world-saving bullshit—to see Her peaceful face as she slept by his side. Worth letting Sam drive the Impala just once, so Dean could get home faster.
Worth the family he was finally getting to have, and being here with them. 
End Note: Sam Winchester once again being a true trooper in my stories.
Title from Next to Me by Imagine Dragons
If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3
Taglist
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@Youdontknowwe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1
@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused
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gghostwriter · 7 months ago
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Death of a Love Affair
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: The three times you understood and the final time you couldn’t.
Warning: angst with no happy ending
A/n: this felt oddly personal to me this is my first time writing in the Y/N perspective and in a one shot format so please be kind. I kinda left a possibly for p2, not sure about that yet, but let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!
Main masterlist || Part 2A (happy end) || Part 2B (sad end)
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The first time it happened, you completely understood. 
You had an inkling as to what you were getting into when you started dating a 187 genius who graduated at a young age and who was scouted straight from college by the FBI. It wasn’t hard to comprehend these external circumstances mixed with his internal need to prove himself worthy of belonging with the big boys would result in missed personal events. It was a given, you expected it.
You just didn’t count on him missing your graduation. After all, he gave his word that he’ll be there to see you walk the stage and receive your diploma. He promised you and yet, as you scanned the crowd of loved ones hugging the attendees, there was no sign of his tie wearing, button up lithe form weaving through the crowd, no sign of his slicked hair, meticulously tucked behind his ears and no sign his doe eyed hazel eyes shining with pride as you joined the ranks of adulthood and unemployment.
You reach for your phone, now finally free from the nerves and adrenaline of going up the stage, with a single unread message from the one you wished to be here with you.
I’m sorry, angel. There’s a case and Gideon needs me. 
You sighed with a mild smile sprouting on your glossed lips as you sent back a reply.
No worries! We can celebrate when you get back. Be safe, I love you.
“Oh honey, I’m so proud of you!” Your mom exclaimed, reaching for a hug. “You graduated and with so many achievements—I mean look at all these cords hanging around your neck!”
You laughed as you stepped out from her warm embrace and watched joyful tears gather under her eyes. “Thanks, Mom! Hopefully all these cords help me get a job soon, huh, or else I’ll be moving back home with you.”
“Oh honey, stop joking! As if I wouldn’t welcome you back with open arms,” she quipped back. 
A hand holding a bouquet of flowers shot up to your face. It was a bundle of your favorite, carnations, in ranges of different colors. 
“Congratulations, lil sis,” your older brother, Trevor, breathed out. “Do I get a hug too or is that just for Mom?” 
You giggled as you stepped into his arms, happy to be sharing this moment with your ever loving protector of a brother, no matter how busy he might be as a head chef for his own highly rated restaurant.
“Hey big brother, thanks for being here,” you mumbled in his tight grasp. “Did you pass along my invite to Dad?” 
You felt him subtly shake his head causing your smile to slightly falter. You knew better than to expect the man who gifted you half of his genes to show up—a workaholic, absentee of a father whose love language was to deposit checks to your bank account from his fattened pockets as a lawyer for the rich. It was the cause of your parents’ separation when you were five years old. The matriarch tired from taking up the mantle as both the paternal and maternal figure for both you and your brother. Your mother exhausted from repeatedly believing broken promises uttered to herself and to her babies.
Having seen first hand how each lie wrapped as an oath chipped a piece of the loving and bright woman who gave birth to you and your brother, you vowed to never let that happen to you. It was a cautionary tale engrained in your mind. A fable—a curse really and in hindsight, you should have seen the markings of history repeating itself.
“Now, where is your nerdy pipe cleaner of a boyfriend?” He asked as he scanned around the vicinity for a sight of Spencer.
You shrugged, genuinely alright with your FBI agent of a boyfriend missing this milestone in your life. “Duty called. But that’s okay, we’ll celebrate when he gets back.” 
A pair of eyes, similar to yours, inquisitively studied you as if making sure there was no hidden hurt behind those words uttered. “If you say so,” he stated, turning to your mother who was smiling at the both of you—her greatest treasures. “Mom, let’s get out of here. I had John prep the kitchen for a feast.” 
You and your mom chattered excitedly at the passenger back seat as Trevor backed the four-door navy sedan out of the parking and drove off to his restaurant for the promised lunch graduation.
———
It was well into the night as you were settling in bed when the tell-tale signs of the main door being unlocked echoed through the dark green walls of his apartment. 
“Spence?” You called out, letting him know that you were there instead of in your own apartment, 30 minutes away. 
More shuffling was heard before the object of your love and affection rounded the bedroom door with a set of his own flowers on hand. He breathed out your name in reverence as he went for a kiss, pleased that he had still caught you awake.
“Congratulations, my love,” he smiled as he pulled away from your soft lips. “These are for you and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” 
You smiled back, gladly accepting his apologies and flowers. “It’s all good, Spence. I know how demanding your job is. I missed you.” 
“I missed you too. I told Gideon and Hotch that’ll I’ll be unavailable this weekend. It’s just you and me,” he said as he went in for another kiss, unable to resist any longer. Not long after, his outside clothes and your sleepwear were strewn all around the bedroom floor as both your bodies merged into one and reached a mutual crescendo with your gasps and his groans as the choir. 
***
The second time, you moderately understood.
You noted that the BAU was back in full swing with Gideon being brought back to the saddle after what happened in Boston. As his birthday treat, you both agreed to fly in for the weekend to Vegas to visit his mother at the facility. He never would have gone alone should it not have been for your enthusiasm to come with. You loved talking to Diana about Spencer’s childhood during her good days and you also loved being in her presence still even when she was lost in her teaching past—acting out as a student as you got to hear her lectures about literature. 
The bustling at the airport had you tip toeing up to catch a sight of Spencer, your flight departing in about an hour. It was a late Friday afternoon, travelers were piling in for a weekend trip, and he promised to head straight from the Bureau to the airport to meet you by the entrance. Your head swiveled from left to right, biting your lip as the minutes ticked by with no sign of your boyfriend running towards you.
The phone in your jean pocket rang and your heart slightly dropped at the sight of the caller ID.
“Hey pretty boy,” you greeted, naively wishing that this phone call wasn’t a bearer of bad news. “Are you almost at the airport?” 
There were muffled voices heard in the background. “Uhm—actually—”
You sighed, understanding what he wanted to say. “There’s a case,” you stated as a matter of fact. “It’s alright, Spence. I’ll tell your mom something popped up. No worries.” 
“You—you don’t have to go alone. We can always reschedule,” he suggested, the timber of his voice going up an octave as if he was in a panic at the idea of disappointing you.
“You and I both know Diana’s excited about this trip,” you chuckled as you recalled how her doctor had described his mother’s face lighting up every time she was reminded of the visit. “I’ll go and spend some time with her. Maybe even get her to tell me more embarrassing childhood stories about her perfect boy.”
He lightly laughed at your joke to ease the tension and remorse he was feeling. “I could have told you all of it if you just asked.”
“Well, does it include pictures of you too?” You teased as you were checking in at the counter.
There was a stern voice calling for his name in the background, it was Hotch, you silently guessed. 
“Listen, I have to go. The team is about to give the profile,” he rushed out to inform you. “I’ll see you when we both get back. I love you.” 
The call ended without so much of a chance for you to say it back.
As the plane got ready to take off, your mood continued to further dampen. He promised to go—to you and to his own mother via the phone. An ivy seed of doubt was planted in your mind. Did he try to excuse himself from the case to his boss as some sort of birthday gift? It really didn’t work that way, you knew, with how of a high demand his job is but still, you wondered if his team was informed about the plans for this weekend or were they purposely kept out of the loop. That notion wouldn’t surprise you at the slightest, thinking back. The profilers weren’t even aware of his mother’s state and condition. Hell, they didn’t even know that you existed, a girlfriend of two years, until well into his first year at the BAU. 
Deep down you grasped why he keeps Diana a secret. You were aware of the shame and embarrassment he felt for himself, having had to have her institutionalized by the time he reached the age of eighteen. You got that, didn’t mean you understood it but nonetheless, you respected his decision and was even proud of him for reaching out for professional help no matter how much he viewed that action of his cowardly. But what you weren’t really privy to was really why your relationship was kept in the dark. It could have saved him from Morgan’s incessant ribbing of his inability to pick up women.
During one night where your insecurities got the best of you, you asked in a small voice if he was ashamed of the relationship. He vehemently denied it, repeatedly saying that he just wanted to have a secret solace—a happy home to return to that was untouched by the worst human terrors that he encounters on the daily. That was what you were, he explained, a sunlit luscious reprieve filled with flowers and laughter where he could rest his weary bones from the ravaging, dark waves. His own piece of heaven here on earth. He then kissed your fears away that night, hugged you tight into his chest—the vibrations from his humming lulling you to slumber.
———
“I always knew it would take a special girl to understand my special boy,” Diana mused out loud as you plated a slice of cake for her. 
You blushed, sitting down beside her with your own. “He’s perfect. I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” 
She affectionately combed through your hair, similar to how her son would. “Thank you. For visiting and being understanding of his erratic schedule.”
“It’s no problem at all, Diana. I love him, I knew what I was getting into when we started dating.” You stated as the ivy seed of doubt sprouted in your mind—did you really? Did you really understand what you were getting into?
***
The third time, you still tried to understand.
There you were surrounded by the purest celebration of love and matrimony, sans your long-haired, sweater vest wearing plus one. Your brother was getting married to the love of his life, vowing himself to be with her for better, for worse and your other half was in another state catching criminals. Fiddling with the diamond engagement ring adorning your finger, you recalled how you ended up alone, dateless, in this joyous occasion. 
You RSVP’ed with a date when the invitation arrived four months ago. Your brother even calling in to make sure that he, your well-celebrated FBI fiancée, will be able to attend a month before the wedding. You internally scoffed at his repeated checking but in retrospect, maybe he saw the end well before you did. You promised to him, as Spencer did to you, that he’ll be available to watch the union and to save all the slow dances with him. But the day before the wedding, the phone rang for a case in Dallas and you knew what it meant. Without so much of a fight, you kissed him goodbye by the door of his now shared apartment and let the dreary silence enveloped you as you think of how to inform your brother of the new change without hearing the pity and patronization in his voice. 
Nursing a glass of red wine, you watched your brother dance with his newly wedded wife and in your peripheral, you spotted your mother approaching you at the table. 
“Now why are you being such a sourpuss during this festive event?” She chimed out as she pulled a chair beside you. “You should be out there, dancing and getting to know our new extended family.” 
You shrugged, unsure on what to say. She was right, of course. All the guests were enjoying themselves and basking in the warm, infectious glow of the happy couple but you didn’t have the courage in you to mask the despondent emotions inside of you.
Your mother sighed and took your left hand in hers. “You know, when your dad and I were going through the proceedings of the divorce, I had moments when I wanted to back out from it. I loved your father, still holds a piece of my heart till this day, and I thought the small moments of happiness when he was around would be enough to tied me through the days when he wasn’t. I thought those times and our love for you kids were sufficient to keep our love from wilting. If I poured out affection and devotion to the home we once built, it wouldn’t crumble surely. But you know what I forgot—”
You turned to face her somber eyes, looking into yours as if searching for something that seemed to no longer be there. 
“—I forgot to take care of myself. I gave a pieces of me away so willing and so many times that when I reached the end of the marriage, I no longer knew who I was. Where the piece of me started and where it ended. You’re withering, my flower. The vibrant life that I once longed to protect in your eyes is slowly dying. I don’t want you to reach the finish line and not know how you got up there. How you ended up giving all yourself away with not a flower bud left to blossom just for you.” 
You felt your hackles rise to defend the relationship. In hindsight, this was you denying the truth that was staring you right in the face. “It’s not like that with Spencer, Mom. It’s just—the job is hectic and it’s been his forever dream. He had finally started to gain his footing when Gideon and Elle left and then the kidnapping happened and that pushed his progress back a bit. But he’s getting there now. We’re stabilizing and we had a discussion—there’s less broken promises. It’s just that this recent case in Dallas was urgent and they needed the team to solve crime. I don’t want to take him away from the country and the people who needs his help and from his dream of solving crimes. I love him, Mom, in all of his entirety and he deserves all the respect and understanding from me as his partner.” 
She squeezed the hand in hers—the left hand adorning the ring, the material manifestation of his vow to you that you had happily accepted. “I‘ve grown fond of Spencer. I see him as another son of mine but darling, sometimes the love you feel for each other is not enough. A relationship takes continuous work—a task that both individuals must pull in the effort and prioritize. Just think about it,” she stated as she stood up. “Now, no more of this depressing talk and this serious energy from you. Go around, dance with your brother, and enjoy.” 
You mustered up a smile as you proceeded to do just what you were told until your feet were sore from all the dancing. But no matter the joyous occasion, it didn’t stop the realization in the form of ivy from taking roots and slowly covering all corners of your mind. 
***
And the final time, you could no longer understand.
The grandfather clock stationed at the corner of the dimly lit apartment struck at two. Your figure was still dressed in your purple fitted dress as you waited for your soon-to-be other half to walk through the door. It was another night of getting your hopes up and broken promises and you were no longer sure how much you could take before the love you held in your heart festers and turns into resentment. 
You promised yourself you’d never be in a situation that you had seen your mother once be in. You became the careful daughter of a careless man who gave little to no effort to cherish the love a woman had freely given to him. You thought with all your cautiousness and logical thinking, the mistakes of the mother would never be repeated. That was naive thinking—you realized now. By actively being aware of the past, you’d forgotten to look ahead and fell deep into the pitfalls of doing the same as your mother did.
Spencer once mentioned that there was a high divorce rate in his line of duty. How he worried and vowed that you both will never join that rate. And that was a promise he’ll be able to keep, you scoffed to yourself, as you spun the ring on the table.
Another shared piece of information floated to the forefront of your mind. How Haley had recently served Hotch, his unit chief divorce papers. You’ve grown close with her over the years, being the only two constant partners to someone working in the BAU. You’ve seen first hand all the missed milestones in Haley’s and Jack’s life as her husband flew around the country with the cavalry, saving the innocent one case at a time. Never taking the time to realize that the once solid foundation of their marriage was crumbling down with every flight he took. Similar to what was happening in the doctor’s own home. 
A set of keys unlatched the mahogany door and a fresh batch of florals were the first that entered through, followed by Spencer looking sheepish as he noted your presence by the sofa. “Angel, I’m so sorry I missed your promotion dinner.” 
Silence greeted him as he stumbled to get to where you were. “Carnations for you.” 
Tears started to form under your eyes. You didn’t want to break but the reality of your decision was setting in. You wanted to falter, to change your mind, to give him another chance but you knew you couldn’t. You’ve given too much of your understanding away and you doubted you have any more to give to this beautiful man who once promised to make you his top priority. 
“I can’t accept them, Spencer.” 
His eyebrows furrowed and his body tensing as if sensing the finality behind your words. “Why not? They’re your favorite.” 
“They are but—” you took a deep breath, steeling your resolve. “—I think we should stop.” 
“W-what? No. No, please,” he stammered out as his own set of tears started flooding his eyes, blurring you from his vision. “I’m sorry I missed the dinner. I’ll make it up to you—I promise just—”
The dam of your emotions broke causing you to freely sob out all the sadness and anger that had collected in your heart. “I’m tired, Spencer. You can’t promise anything to me anymore. You’ve broken so many promises that you’ll only end up breaking them again.” 
He took your hands into his, letting the bouquet fall crushed on the hardwood floor, recognizing the ring missing in your finger. “This time, this time it’ll be different. Please, don’t leave me.” 
“The country needs you, the BAU needs you. But I need you too, Spencer. I love you, I really do but I can’t be your third priority anymore. I don’t deserve that—don’t I deserve to come first before the country and the job?” 
He tightened his hold on your hands as if afraid that you were slipping through his fingers, denying the reality that you already had. “I love you so much. I don’t want to live without you by my side. Tell me how to fix this. Do you want me to leave the BAU? I’ll—I’ll do it, just stay with me, please.” 
You shook your head. “I don’t want you to leave the FBI. Your ambition and integrity is one of the facets that I loved about you and you might end up resenting me down the line if you leave now. It’s not yet your time to leave the BAU, you and I both know that,” you pulled your hands away and slid the ring in front of him. “This belongs to you, I’m giving it back.” 
His shoulder caved in on itself, the weight of it all too much for him to carry. “I don’t want this to be our end. I just don’t.” 
“I don’t want this too, but I need to,” you whispered as your hand reached out to push shoulder length hair out of the way. “Maybe this isn’t the end. Maybe in the future we’d meet again and continue the pages of our love story but for now, I have to do this Spencer. I can’t keep giving a piece of me every time your top priority needs you, I’ll end up hating you if I stay.” 
You leaned in for one final kiss. A salty, tear filled kiss of death to a future you had once envisioned with the beautiful boy before you. A white picket fence with children laughing at the backyard—the American dream fading into nothing as you start to pull away.
“Goodbye for now, Spencer.”
He stared at all the curves and dips in your face one last time as if etching every detail into his already perfect memory.
“Goodbye for now, Y/N.”
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suni-writings · 1 month ago
Text
Take the pain away.
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jude bellingham x fem!reader
wc: 2.2k
+18!! mdni
(content warning: unrequited feelings, cheating [unrelated to jude x reader], toxic relationship [also not jude x reader], smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])
it's been a while since i wrote a jude smut, but you ask and i shall deliver. we have been waiting for this one. heavily inspired by "fuck the pain away (lost tapes 2022)" by tory lanez.
He was exhausted. Not because of football, not because of fame, but because of his best friend. Being physically exhausted was something he was used to — Jude could get rid of it in a few weeks if it resulted in some type of pain. Emotionally, however? He was clueless as to how to heal it, especially since time did nothing but deepen his feelings towards her. It messed up his head, his thoughts got foggy, and he seemed to act out of impulse whenever he was around her. Nothing could really stop him when she was next to him, and that was his doom.
Well, that and her boyfriend. Her hideous, stupid attempt of a man of a boyfriend, whom did nothing but make her feel bad and cheat on her. She wasn’t the girl Jude used to know anymore — the fierce one, who everyone would be scared to even look at her the wrong way. Somehow, that manipulator managed to get her undivided forgiveness every time. It was a never-ending cycle, one that was tearing his mind apart. He was always the one to rescue her, until that dumbass showed up again, promising to be different and acting like a prince for a week.
That night wasn’t any different. The moment his phone vibrated in his pocket and Jude saw who sent the message, he already knew what it was about. And, despite being tired, he still walked up to her house, because she had him at his mercy. He wanted nothing more than to see her okay again, to be her sunshine of her rainy days.
Even if for a single moment only.
She had left the door unlocked for him. Jude carefully got inside, taking a deep breath. He could hear her sobs coming from her room, which he carefully walked up to.
“Princess?” Jude called out softly.
Even in the darkness, he could see her hands coming to dry the tears in her eyes. She sat up, still sniffing, and he sat next to her. He caressed gently her face and wiped another tear.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly.
“What’s the point? You already know what happened. It’s what always happens.” She let out a humorless chuckle and sighed. “I’m sorry. I probably look like shit right now.’
Bellingham took a moment to look — more like admire — her face. Red glimmering eyes, puffy nose, the bite marks on her lip to avoid crying. She still looked breathtaking.
“You look like a mess, honey,” Jude smirked. “But still pretty as ever.”
She gave a small smile, that quickly turned into a grimace, and she looked at him.
“I feel so weak, Jude. I don’t know why I keep letting this happen, I don’t know why I’m so—” she stopped midsentence and laid in bed again, holding back her tears. He was next to her, supporting the weight of his body on his elbow. “Please, take this pain away. I can’t handle this anymore.”
He took a deep breath yet again. There’s not much he could do, and all his options sounded selfish; even if it was for her own good, it also benefited him. Like leaving that project of a man for once and all. He slowly took strands of her hair out of her face, gently outlining her cheek. He avoided looking at her lips, because he couldn’t do anything about it. Especially with her this vulnerable.
“I’m here, princess. What can I do for you?” Jude asked quietly, toying her hair between his fingers.
“Take the pain away.” She begged again and looked into his eyes.
She had no idea how much Jude wanted to do that.
“I can’t do that. I’m not him, I can’t fix his mistakes, but I can—” he bit his tongue when he realized he was about to say too much; to act selfishly, to prove her she could do better, to give her a taste of what she could have.
A few moments of silence fell between them and her eyes searched for his. She leaned closer, as if she got the hint. As if she wanted it too.
Jude could be her temporary relief, he didn’t care. If he could help, he would.
Who was he trying to fool? If he could have her in any way, he would.
“Fuck the pain away. I could fuck the pain away, baby.” He whispered as he looked at her in her beautiful, almost translucent nightgown. “An eye for an eye. Give him a taste of his own poison. You say the word, I’ll do it.”
She leaned even closer to him, her hand gently resting on his face as she caressed his cheek. She bit her lip, thinking. She was desperate, and Jude was right there for her.
If her boyfriend could do it, then so could she.
Without a second warning, to Jude’s surprise, her lips crashed into his, hastily seeking relief. When their tongues touched, she was in a frenzy, and everything started to get blurry.
All she could think was the way Jude kissed and bit her neck, the way his warm tongue descended to her collarbone and threatened to go even lower. The way she tugged, on Jude’s hair, not wanting the moment the moment to end, needing more of his kisses. Of his burning touch.
“Need to take this off, princess.” He muttered against her collarbone, holding the hem of her nightgown. She nodded and stood her arms up so he could easily remove it. “Making this all so easy for me.” He said once he saw her breasts and tossed the nightgown away, biting her nipple before gently sucking it while caressing the other with expertise.
She was already panting. In a single attempt, he brought his covered knee close to her core, and the damp in her panties was undeniable.
That only fueled his anger. That bastard had her and didn’t touch her properly.
His mouth left her breast and moved back to her neck, sucking and biting it while his hand descended to her core and she her back almost arched in anticipation; if he knew she was that touch deprived, he would’ve suggested that a long time ago.
With his hands underneath her underwear, he pressed two fingers against her clit and moved them slowly, pressuring further to see the way her chest rose, the way her cheeks flush and how her mouth opened, too scared to make a sound.
So, without warning, Jude inserted the two fingers inside her and moved them fast, curling them until he found the spot that made her back arch, and the room became filled with moans. He kissed her throat, his mouth vibrating with each moan that came out of her mouth. His movements were precise, fast, and with an urge to prove something that, before he could realize or properly enjoy what he was doing, her walls were closing against his fingers.
“Jude, I’m—” she tried to say, but he smirked against her skin and moved his fingers even harder.
“You’re what? Tell me, baby.” Jude teased her and her back arched. He felt his fingers hurt, but it didn’t matter. Not when she was coming undone in his hands.
“Jude—” she tried to warn again, and he kept moving his fingers, looking at her in the eyes. She struggled to keep them open, trying to keep eye contact.
“Is that everything you know how to say now? My name?” He hit the spot once again and smirked. “I could get used to that.”
Her walls fully clenched around his fingers, and she finally came, seeing stars behind her eyes and leaving a loud moan. It was something she had never experienced so strongly, and she didn’t know if it was because her boyfriend didn’t care about her pleasure or if it was because it was Jude. Maybe the answer was both.
“Fuck.” she muttered, panting. He just smirked, looking into her eyes and leaning away, putting his own fingers in his mouth to taste her.
“Now that’s a very—” his fingers left his mouth with a pop once he made sure to savor the taste. “—very good girl. And a delicious one, if I might add. Could taste you for fucking hours.”
Jude didn’t care if he still had his clothes on. He had a taste of hers, and nothing would stop him now.  If he already couldn’t stop himself before touching, the gods may as well punish him, and it wouldn’t be enough for him to stop.
He kissed her again, making her taste herself before lowering the kisses — from her mouth to the spot under her ear. From her neck to her collarbone. From the valley of her breasts to her stomach. The kisses only lowered. Before he could reach her panties once again, starving, she tugged on her hair.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m too worked up for you to eat me out. Need more.”
He bit his lip and smirked. As much as he wanted to taste her, he wanted to be inside her. He took off his shirt in a swift move and she sat up, crawling closer to him to kiss him and bite his neck. He felt like his skin was on fire and the bulge on his sweatpants only got harder. He took a deep breath.
“You’re not helping, princess.” He sighed.
“Am I not?” Now it was her time to tease. She straddled him and sat right against his crotch, making him almost roll his eyes. “You should take those sweatpants off.” She said as her hands caressed his abdomen.
He quickly turned the position, now on top of her, and took his sweatpants off.
“Good enough for you, princess?” He whispered, leaning closer.
“Better if you took your underwear off.” She smirked.
“Brat.”
Instead of taking his underwear off, he took her panties off in one single move. A risky one, since he could’ve ripped it from how quickly he took it off. He lowered and admired for a moment.
“Such a pretty pussy. A shame you won’t let me eat you out.” He whispered as he looked at her core, gently touching her puffy clit once again. She was stretched, but not enough. He didn’t pay attention to that when he had his fingers inside her — he just wanted to see her pretty face coming.
“Jude.” She called him out with some urgency, and he sighed.
Maybe the gods couldn’t stop Jude, but she could.
He took his underwear off, only now realizing how painfully hard he was. She watched as his cock sprung out, rigid, leaking with too much precum. He bit his lip and put his hand around his cock, spreading the precum slowly. He knew how sensitive he was right now, and he had to hold it back for her. He lined his member with her entrance and slowly dipped inside her.
She moaned loudly and Jude could feel his breath stopping from how tight she was. He gave her some time to adjust to his size.
“This is too much.” She whined.
“Darling, I’m not even moving.” He replied. “Your boyfriend lacks even in that area? He’s truly useless.”
She would’ve chuckled if she wasn’t having a hard time with the way his cock filled her, the burning sensation from the stretch seeming unending.
“It hurts.”
Jude leaned close to her, their lips almost touching.
“It doesn’t, baby.” He thrusted one time, to make her more used to the movements. “I’m taking the pain away. Just feel me here. That’s all you have to do.” He pressed his hand against her belly and thrusted once again, earning a moan and feeling himself from how big he was.
She could do much better than her boyfriend. He wanted to be the much better.
He started properly moving, hard, fast, desperate for his own release as well. To prove her how much better she could be fucked if he was the one doing it. And each time he hit the spot, he could feel her walls clenching. His hand never left her belly, knowing how deep he was going into her. He couldn’t stop.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and held his hair as his movements became more frenetic, moans dripping from her mouth to his ear with anything he did. He moaned whenever she clenched too hard against him.
“You’re so fucking tight.” he muttered, panting, trying to keep the pace. It was taking all of his willpower to not just come already. She didn’t reply, of course. She was too busy scratching his back and moaning desperately.
His movements became more erratic, slower, and, when her walls clenched around him one last time, he spilled everything inside her and fell to her chest, trying to catch his breath.
“Jude?” She called him out once they could properly speak.
“Yeah?”
“Stay. For the night.” She pleaded softly, caressing his back that were marked by the painting her nails had done.
“I wasn’t planning to go anywhere else, princess.” He smiled at her.
Jude held her against his chest, as she peacefully slept. He leaned his chin on the top of her head and, once he was certain she was sleeping, he sighed.
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“I can’t take the pain away because I’m not your man.” Jude whispered. “But I wish I was.”
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grandline-fics · 8 months ago
Note
Hi, Hi, Thank you for answering! Since you said you accepted multiples characters i may ask for Ace, Zoro, Shanks if possible Marco with a s/o who during their relationship never show any signs of jealousy nor even possessiveness, very laidback. Yet one day/night, the boys just witnessed their s/o jealousy for the first time. And if possible the s/o’s jealousy is mostly staying deadly quiet with a disappointed gaze, but not cold treatment though. Or something like that? Thank you, thank you, I hope I did not asked characters you aren’t comfortable with :(
DESCRIPTION: They finally see you jealous
WARNINGS: some slight angst but it all ends happily for everyone
CHARACTERS: Ace, Shanks, Marco
WORDS: 2,453
A/N: Thank you for this request! I hope each scenario was different enough for you and that you're happy with the result for this ask
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
———————
ACE
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If Ace were to find a partner, he couldn’t get anyone better than you. You were his closest friend before you both became aware of your deep romantic feelings for the other and both confessed, allowing things to effortlessly progress into a romantic relationship. With you Ace knows he is safe and free to be himself, just as you can be yourself without judgement. Because you were both friends before becoming a couple, you both are content to spend time together while also being apart. You both can spend an evening in a bar with the other Whitebeard Pirates and hardly say a word to each other until its time for you both to return to the ship. Because of the fact neither of you cling to the other for the entirety of the night, it can lead to some misconceptions about the relationship you both have to an outsider.
One evening you returned to the Moby Dick after being sent out on a solo mission by Pops. As usual the deck was lively and filled with laughter and chatter. You noticed some new faces to the crew, making a note to properly introduce yourself to the new recruits after you spoke to Pops. On your approach you slowed to see one recruit standing very close to Ace, who merely smiled at them with his usual friendly smile. While he couldn’t see the lust in his admirer’s eyes you could see it clearly. “So you’re my commander? I’m so lucky to be under someone as handsome as you.” She smirked and Ace laughed, while you rolled your eyes, continuing to walk forward. 
Marco spotted your approach first and called out your name in greeting. Immediately Ace looked over excitedly only for his smile to drop when he spotted the look in your gaze. Normally you were as excited as he was when you were reunited but now you seemed almost disappointed. Worry flipped in his stomach and he reached out towards you but instinctively you pulled your arm away and continued to walk. “I have to talk to Pops first. I’ll catch up with you after.”
“Looks like someone’s in the doghouse.” Izou teased when he knew you were out of earshot. 
“Can you blame them? They go for a couple weeks and come back to Ace flirting with another person.” Marco chimed in with a feigned look of disapproval while Ace became panicked and looked between his fellow Division Commanders. Did you really think that? Was he really in trouble? Worse still, was his relationship with you at risk because he hadn’t realised one of the recruits was flirting with him again?
Acting on impulse he immediately raced up the deck and slid to a halt beside you, hooking an arm around your waist and hauling you off of your feet. “Sorry, Pops! Emergency!” he called out over your shouts, ignoring them and the whooping cheers as he carried you below deck to your shared room to speak in private. When you were set on your feet you lightly shoved Ace. “What the hell did you do that for?” You demanded only to blink in surprise when Ace threw himself onto his knees and wrapped his arms around your waist, staring up at you in desperation. “Please don’t end things with me! I promise you’re the only one I want, I’d never throw what we have away. I swear I didn’t flirt back. I’d never-” 
“I know Ace.” You stopped his rambling with a small smile and lightly setting your hand on his cheek. “You never realise when anyone flirts with you. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen someone throw themselves at you.”
“But that look on your face…and Izou and Marco said I was in the doghouse…”
“Yeah I don’t like seeing someone flirt with you but I know you’re loyal to me.” You shrugged. “As for those two, they’re just bored. I wasn’t going to get mad at you for not realising someone wanted to get with you. I trust you Ace.”
“If you were mad at me though…”
“I’d tell you.” You promised before pinching his cheek and scowling. “For example, I’m not happy you dragged me away while I was in the middle of talking to Pops. But I’ll forgive you just this once because of how worried you were.” You smiled to see the relief in Ace’s eyes and suddenly became aware of the strain in your neck. “Now would you please get up and welcome me home properly?” With a grin, Ace adjusted his hold on you and quickly pulled you down to instead settle on his lap so he could lovingly pepper your face with kissed before finally kissing you with all the love he could convey. Despite you promising you were fine he needed to show that you were the only one he ever wanted this way. 
SHANKS
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“Oh Captain’s got his hands full again….or rather hand full.” You glanced across the bar as you entered the building to see what Lucky had been talking about and your sights zeroed in on the swarm of women around your Captain. Any that hadn’t been able to grab a chair at the table, stood excitedly close all of them listening to the current tale of adventure the crew had been on. Everyone in the crew, including yourself were used to this occurrence. Of course they’d be drawn to the handsome Captain with the roguish smile. You’d been drawn to it and fallen for his charm so you couldn’t exactly blame anyone else for it too. 
Despite that you still couldn’t help the foreign, uncomfortable feeling stirring in you at the sight. Up until a few months ago, you would have joined in with the rest of the crew, teasing your popular Captain but since then you’d fallen for him and started a relationship with Shanks which some of the crew still weren’t completely aware of. Jealousy wasn’t something you’d ever really felt before seeing as your previous relationship were flings at best and you and your partner knew as much. What you had with Shanks however felt different and because of the fact neither of you had made it public or put a label on what was going on between you both, it made the feeling even more uneasy at the sight in front of you. 
You walked with Lucky Roux to Shanks’ table just as he finished his story. At your approach Shanks’ eyes lit up and he grinned at you from behind his mug. “You two have some catching up to do.” He joked, while Lucky grinned and reached for the filled mug of ale offered to him, you nodded slightly and took your own with less enthusiasm as you normally would. Immediately Shanks’ suspicions were heightened, while his carefree smile remained the look in his eyes sharpened as he observed you drink steadily. A couple of the newer members of the crew rose from their seats to let you and Lucky sit at Shanks’ table out of respect to you both. Lucky took his seat without hesitation whereas you smiled and shook your head gently. Instead you drained your mug and turned to go to the bar for a refill. Shanks’ eyebrow quirked slightly and his fingers drummed against his mug while he watched you in concern. “Were there any issues Lucky?”
“Not a one, Cap’n. Ship got restocked without problem and the locals reported no trouble since our last visit here. Everyone’s happy.” Lucky reported with his usual smile before returning to his own conversation with Hongo. Shanks glanced at you from across the room again, watching as even with your new drink, you remained by the bar, sipping it slowly and staring at nothing. Shanks finished off his drink and moved to stand only for one of the women fawning over him put a hand on his shoulder, insisting they’d go and get the drink for him only for the others to pipe up too, leading them to bicker over who would get him a refill. “No, no, I’ll go myself, it’s fine. You all stay and Ben here will tell you of my best battle, won’t you Ben?”
At the promise of another story, Shanks was able to get away from the table without being followed by his admirers and he let out a sigh when he was out from the crowded presences and now standing beside you, fully noticing the difference he felt in the comparison of the two feelings. While he waited for the bartender to see to him, he glanced at you and saw your far-off look. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’m staying close to the alcohol so I can catch up like you ordered me to Captain.” Your answer was even and detached, your gaze remaining on nothing in particular on the opposite wall. 
“You’ve got me worried, love.” At that pet-name you finally looked at Shanks. Unable to help yourself you glanced behind him to the table filled with people still waiting for him to return before returning your stare to his face. 
“It wasn’t my intention to worry you or ruin your fun. I was keeping my distance specifically to avoid that.” You explained and Shanks finally realised what the problem was. You were jealous, over them? People who paled in comparison to you in every way. 
“My fun’s only ruined if you’re not with me.” Shanks murmured closing the small space between you both. He saw the hesitancy in your eyes and he gave you a reassuring smile before securing his arm around your waist and kissing you deeply, the action dispelling the unease you’d been feeling instantly. Over the sound of the crew whistling and shouts of others to pay up because of a bet neither you or Shanks were aware of you broke apart from the kiss and smile when he lay his head against yours. “Should’ve done this a long time ago when I finally got you.” 
MARCO
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You knew what you were getting into when you and Marco gave into your attraction for each other. You knew that his time would be taken up mostly with caring for Pops on a daily basis and the other members of the crew when they were sick or injured. Any free time he would have was precious and you were never possessive of that. When he was able to spend time with you he did and your patience was alway appreciated from him. Sometimes when he’s overloaded with work you stop by to offer him some food and sit in his office for an hour or so, just to enjoy each other’s presence. You don’t need to talk, just being there is enough for you both. 
On this occasion you hadn’t seen Marco because of a nasty flu making its way through some of the crew and after a few days without seeing his face, you’d grown to miss him. So you made your way to the medical office and your step faltered when you heard the familiar sound of his laughter coming from inside. Lightly you knocked on the door once and entered the room to see one of the nurses standing beside Marco as he sat at his desk. You smiled warmly when Marco seemed happy to see you but your smile fell when you spotted the empty plate on his desk. “Ah, you’ve already eaten.”
“Of course he has.” The nurse giggled, smiling at Marco playfully. “Though he would have forgotten if it wasn’t for me. As amazing as he is as a Doctor, he’s hopeless at looking after himself.”
“He’s lucky you’re here to look after for him then.” You said, unable to sound as cheerful as the nurse. Clearing your throat you looked down at the small plate of food you’d brought for your boyfriend. You knew nothing was going on between him or any of the nurses that worked closely alongside him but you still felt the jealousy growing in your chest. This was a small thing you could do for Marco and you felt childish for feeling stung that he didn’t need you. You didn’t like the feeling and needed to distance yourself from the cause. “I’m glad you’ve eaten so I’ll let you get back to your work. Don’t let him overwork himself, okay?” You forced the joke out with a tight smile while the nurse smiled brightly and nodded in joy that you were trusting her. Marco watched silently as you turned and left him. Even with his tiredness, he could still see something was wrong with you. 
As soon as he completed the current task on his desk, Marco stood and stretched. After working without resting for these days, he knew no-one would begrudge him a break away from his office. Stretching out he walked through the corridors until he was walking into the room he shared with you. You looked up in surprise from your lounged spot on the sofa. Before you could react, Marco was crawling onto the sofa and laying ontop of you, his head resting against your chest as his arms encircled you, holding you close. “Marco, what are you-”
“You left far too quickly.” Marco groaned out, now that he was lying down he realised just how uncomfortable sitting at his desk was. “I missed you, sorry I was cooped up in my office all this time.”
“You’re don’t need to apologise for that Marco.”
“I feel like I do need to say sorry for something though.” he admitted, lifting his head slightly to look at you with concern. “You didn’t seem yourself when you stopped by.”
“It’s not you, it’s me.” You promised, gently running your fingers through his hair. Under his patient stare you sighed and continued. “I’m not a doctor like you or trained in anything medical. For the most part I’m fine with that because I’m good in other ways but it’s just when you are overworking yourself there’s not much I can do to help you. One of those things is taking care of you and making sure you’re eating. It’s silly but it made me jealous to see someone else doing that for you.”
“It’s not silly at all. We can’t help our emotions but I’m glad you were able to talk to me about it.” Marco smiled, taking your hand to press a loving kiss against your wrist. “Never feel like you’re replaceable. I’m only ever able to rest like this because of your influence over me. No one looks after me the way you can and you’re the only one I want.”
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pseudowho · 11 months ago
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A Reliable Man
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Sometimes the hero you want, isn't always the hero you need.
A Kiyotaka Ijichi appreciation smutfic.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, loss of virginity
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"Ijichi...can you come and collect me, please?"
"Of course. Just send your location over."
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"Ijichi, it's so late. Are you okay to collect me?"
"Don't worry, I've been waiting. Have you eaten?"
"Oh...I haven't. It's alright, I can sort myself out--"
"I'll pick something up. It's no trouble."
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"--ah, shit-- Ijichi, call the school-- I need backup, urgently."
"Hold on. Get somewhere safe. I'll call everyone-- anyone. Get to safety. Please."
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"Ijichi, I--...I can't thank you enough. I wouldn't have made it out of there if you hadn't called for help. I...I really am sorry."
A pause. A soft sigh.
"...please, don't be sorry. You're out there saving lives. You don't have to be sorry about anything."
----------------
Ijichi--
...your finger hovered over your phone screen. You saw the time; 10pm. You felt a familiar squirm of shame, disgusted by yourself for demanding so much of Kiyotaka Ijichi.
He was off the clock...you were in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere along the way, you had forgotten how hard he worked; while directing all of the assistants should have been a full time job in itself, Ijichi stepped above and beyond, by sacrificing his time, his effort, his safety, shift after shift after shift.
You tapped your phone against your forehead, eyes closed as you sighed. You decided to walk home. It would take you hours, but it was still better than--
Your phone vibrated in your hand. You looked at the screen.
Kiyotaka Ijichi.
You answered immediately, flustered, the words catching in your throat. Ijichi got there first. His voice, calm, soft, worried.
"I just...thought I'd check in. There aren't any drivers on tonight, but you're out on a mission. Are you home yet?" Tears pricked in your eyes, and you gulped.
"Ijichi.. you're not even at work. What are you doing? Calling me? You need a break." You chastised him. He laughed weakly, apologising in a flurry as you told him off.
"--it's my job to make sure you get hom--"
"--no it's not, Ijichi." Silence on the line. Ijichi waited for you, as he had a hundred times before, "It's not your job to get me home. Not every time. You...why are you...you need a break."
Another soft sigh; another warm pause.
"And I'll have a break," he continued, quietly determined, "when you're home safe. Send me your location. I'm on my way."
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He had opened the door for you. Gently laughed off your reproach. The seats were already warm. A hot drink, in a thermos. A snack bar in the glovebox.
Ijichi looked tired; by this point, you weren't sure if that was just his face, but you felt a strange flutter of sweet relief, joy, to be smiled at by him, as if you were worth the late hour and lack of sleep.
Ijichi cast his eyes over you, relaxing, "You're...not hurt. That's good. I'm--...I'm happy to pick you up," he offered, awkwardly, "but I've had enough of scraping you up and dragging you to Shoko."
You felt such prickling uncertainty bubble in you. Why were you suddenly shy in his presence? Why did his eyes casting over you feel so like a caress? Why did you not want the journey to end?
"Dinner," you blurted out, and Ijichi raised his eyebrows, eyes fixed on the road, "we should get dinner. If you've not eaten. I've not eaten. But if you don't want to eat then that's fine too I know it's late--"
"No no no, please don't-- yes, please, dinner sounds...lovely."
You took a moment to look down at yourself; muddy, dirty, bedraggled.
"Uhm...at yours, maybe? We'll order takeout?" You were too busy examining the state of yourself to see the blush that fizzed across Ijichi's sharp cheeks.
"I-- uhm--...sure. Yes. That would be...agreeable."
"So formal, Ijichi."
"Shush. I'm a professional."
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"So..." you finished your mouthful, trying not to feel embarrassed about being dressed in one of Ijichi's old t-shirts and sweatpants, "...he really said that? To quit, and get a driving licence?"
Ijichi laughed, his smile parting the clouds and making him look fifteen years younger. You couldn't help but laugh with him, your hand coming to cover your mouth, giggling together on his sofa like teenagers.
Ijichi wiped his eyes, sighing; "Gojo's a force of nature, it's true...but I probably owe him my life. I...feel like I can do more good in my current role, than I could have ever done on the front lines."
Setting down your plate, and wrapping your arms around your knees, you watched Ijichi, fascinated to see him slowly unwind, his loosening coils releasing the stresses of the day. You had never seen him like this...so relaxed. So happy.
You felt another odd squirm, this time a possessive, protective determination that he should never participate in Jujutsu Sorcery. That he should always be safe. You reached out for his hand, stroking his long, smooth fingers in yours.
Ijichi froze, so uncertain about how to react, having never had anyone show interest in him, barely even his parents, let alone a beautiful woman like you--
"You are the lifeblood of the sorcerers, Ijichi," you smiled, "and we'd fall apart without you. I'd fall apart--"
You were close now, almost sat on his lap. Your face was so close to his, that he felt your breath fan against his neck. He couldn't keep pretending he only checked in on you because it was his job. He couldn't keep pretending it barely bothered him when he saw you walk into danger. He couldn't keep pretending he didn't think about you all day and all night--
Ijichi pressed a kiss to your lips so fast, it felt like butterfly's wings. You gaped, wide-eyed, a blush creeping across your cheeks.
"I--I'm so sorry, that was-- that was highly inappropriate of me and I--...mmmfff..."
You had pulled Ijichi in by his collar, continuing the kiss he had started, with such heartfelt sincerity that Ijichi could have cried. You felt the wounds of so many horrible, selfish, unreliable boyfriends past. Ijichi felt the wounds of so many crushes, hopes and rejections past. Neither of you had noticed the treasure beneath your feet for the longest time-- unforgivably long.
Ijichi's hands clenched uncertainly as you kissed him, unsure where they should sit. He happily took your lead, tentatively responding to every press, every fluid movement of your supple lips against his. Only when your tongue swiped across his mouth, did Ijichi groan and respond instinctively, one hand coming up to push his glasses on top of his head, the other snaking to the back of your neck as he tugged you onto his lap.
You had never kissed someone who you knew would fight to the ends of the earth for you, and for whom you would reciprocate without question. A man who appreciated you as you were and wholeheartedly, and about whom you felt the same. A trustworthy man. A sincere man. A reliable man.
You pulled away for a moment, still holding his collar as you straddled his lap, panting against his lips; "Where have you been all my life?"
"In the front seat...just hoping to catch your eye in the mirror."
Crashing your lips against his again, sighing into his mouth, Ijichi's body strained with the heat of your thighs trapping him in. He was desperate to pull his shirt off, to feel your skin on his...except you needed him to act like he knew exactly what he was doing and--
"--wait...wait," Ijichi panted, resting his head against your shoulder, his hair ruffled, a pained grimace on his face. You cupped his cheeks, feeling him, hard and aching beneath you as he squirmed with an uneasy admission.
"I've...I've never-- I haven't--..." Ijichi winced, moving to lean back, mortified and humiliated. You saw his shame start to bubble over, and quickly slammed a lid on the pot. You did not let go of his collar, and did not let him lean back. Instead, you whispered against his lips, enough to make a whimper leave his lips and a drop of pre-cum leave his cock.
"Let's fix that then, shall we?"
Standing, full of divine purpose, you pulled Ijichi to his feet, nuzzling up into his ear until he shivered, his hands ghosting over your hips again.
"My room-- please--" he pressed, smiling into your neck as you laughed, being pushed gently backwards towards his bedroom. Stumbling together into his bedroom, giggling, stealing kisses, and necking like teenagers, you felt yourself thrown back into some sweet young love that you always wanted to have, but never received.
You fell back onto his bed with a bounce and Ijichi stood nervously before you, wanting to follow his instinct to crawl on top of you and bracket you under his arms, but crippled by his lack of confidence. You raised your foot, slipping your toes under his t-shirt and tickling his belly. Ijichi smiled, buckling and grabbing your foot, crawling over you with lovesick eyes. You made it all so easy.
"Ijichi..." you hummed, nosing at his neck, "...whatever your gut tells you to do, is probably right. I trust you. So please, show me what you want."
Ijichi felt shivers down his spine at your open invitation. His fingertips grazed down your plush inner arm, the little squidge of fat between your breast and armpit, the smooth untouched plane beneath your breast. Your eyes fluttered closed, delighted by his reverent touch. His hand gripped your shirt, and you almost felt tears prick in your eyes as he gently shielded your face to pull it off over your head.
Your bra had shifted with wandering hands, and your nipple peeked half-in-half-out, pressed by the edge of the cup. Ijichi ducked his mouth towards it, and you saw him hesitate again. You reached back, undoing your bra and removing it. Your eyes flicked down to his mouth, and back up to his eyes, dark and drunk.
"I'd like that," you whispered, and Ijichi breathed a shuddering gasp of relief before taking your nipple into his mouth, tasting you with open-mouthed sucks and laps. You heard his wet little grumbles of appreciation against your skin, when his hand came up to gently finger the softly yielding squidge of your other breast, Ijichi's fingers playing with your nipple with delighted exploration.
Ijichi was so overstimulated already, so touch-starved, and his cock so rigid, that he felt worryingly close to finishing-- so unable to control his own excitement at exploring someone's body so intimately for the first time. That the body belonged to you, the woman he had been falling in love with for years, was the final nail in the coffin, of him threatening to spill in his boxers.
You felt this in him, already prepared for him to want to curl up and die from embarrassment, if he didn't last. You were thrilled by his worship of you, having been treated as expendable more than once before. Teaching him would be a privilege and an honour. All the while, you failed to see how he taught you the bare basics of being respected and revered by a lover.
Ijichi was finely-tuned to subtle shifts in the atmosphere around him, and he learned quickly what you liked as he took your breasts into his hands and mouth. He felt the flickering of your hips up towards his when he licked you a certain way, and the hairs on his neck stood up to hear the breathy moans from your lips when he countered, pressing his twitching cock down against your clothed pussy.
Feeling a warning trickle of pre-cum, Ijichi pulled away from your breasts with a hiss, wrapped up in need and barely ashamed to hear himself beg you; "--please, I-- gosh, I'm sorry so sorry-- not going-- not going to make it--"
You kissed him again, soft and reassuring, as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. Ijichi moaned, long and shaking, as you draped his tie around your neck, the tails trailing over your wet-nippled breasts.
"God, you're lovely," he blurted out, blushing as you laughed, your head thrown back in genuine joy.
"Not nearly as lovely as you, beautiful man," you purred, ecstatic to see Ijichi's blush deepen when he moved to hide his face, his nose nuzzling in unbridled affection against your neck. Pushing his shirt off his slim shoulders, you raised your feet to hook around his trousers, looking at him with a playful glint.
Ijichi raised his eyebrows in question, and cried out to feel you push his trousers and boxers down, shivering as his cock bobbed out, red-tipped and wet with pre-cum. Ijichi quaked to feel the cool air hit his length, a drip of pre-cum dropping onto your belly.
You felt Ijichi tensed, brittle above you, and knew he risked spilling in your hand if you touched him. Still, you trailed your hand down his belly, nails grazing in the barely-there black hair, before slowly encircling his cock, hot and heavy in your hand.
Ijichi saw stars, his own hand the only one his skin had even known, and groaned into your neck, instinctively bucking into your grip; "--ooohhh, f--...gosh," he whined against you, coughing in alarm as you giggled again, your fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around his length. Your other hand pushed down Ijichi's borrowed sweatpants and your panties.
"...are you ready?" You asked Ijichi, smiling at his enthusiastic nod. You rolled the head of his cock between your folds, wet and warm, and Ijichi's arms almost buckled with the bliss and promise.
You guided Ijichi into you, squeaking as he bucked into you, bottoming out in one thrust. Ijichi snapped, cursing in a way that was so alien to the Ijichi you had always known. He gasped, one hand reaching down to sink into the side of your hip, relishing the way you jolted beneath him as he filled you with ragged thrusts.
Never had a man been so captivated by you. The feeling of Ijichi's inexperienced desperate rutting, was so vastly outweighed by the enthusiasm with which he treated your body. By the time you rolled your hips in time to meet his thrusts, pushing his cock deeply enough that you felt the first hot stirs of pleasure in your belly, Ijichi was crumbling around you.
"--please please please...please please please-- oohhhh fuck-- ooohhh fuck a condom, shi--"
Ijichi came with a strangled cry, so lost in his base instinct to cum inside you, that he couldn't help but let his seed spill into you, in ragged, disjointed bucks. You drank in the bliss on Ijichi's face...slowly seeing it morph into horror, and you were quick to reassure him, peppering kisses on his lips and cheeks.
"You're okay, it's okay...I'm on protection, shhh it's okay, I loved it, I loved it--"
"God I forgot all about you--"
"---you didn't, you did so well, and besides, we've got all night--"
"All ni...? Oh...oh. All night," Ijichi smiled, absolutely burning with adoration, as you burned for him. Your eyes flickered up to his head, and you pressed a hand over your mouth, eyes sparkling.
"...your glasses are still on your head, Ijichi."
"Ah! Oh...gosh."
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fairyhaos · 6 months ago
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❍ ultimate boyfriend material // lee dokyeom
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dokyeom x gn!reader (ft. bsf!hoshi), 3k+ words
tags: elementary teacher!dk, fluff, crack, established relationship, bi disaster hoshi bc i said so 😗✌, literally just for fun idk what this is lmao
warnings: swearing, alcohol + food mention, yn has only had bfs before, a bit rambly pls bear w me
summary: in which you bring your boyfriend seokmin to yours and soonyoung's monthly dinners, and it ends up going way better than anyone had expected.
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You glance upwards to see Soonyoung looming forebodingly over you like a disapproving shadow, and you sigh.
"Soonyoung. Look. It's going to be totally fine. Seokmin is really, really sweet."
Soonyoung doesn't cease in his looming, continuing to glare darkly down at you as you take your shoes off, having just entered his house for your monthly dinner chats. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but your current track record means that I don't believe you in the slightest."
"Come on, my taste in boyfriends isn't that bad."
Soonyoung squawks, breaking his intimidating façade in an instant. "Isn't that b— your last boyfriend tried to hit on my girlfriend! Whilst both of us were right there!"
You cringe a little at the memory, before waving off his words. "This time won't be like that. I promise."
"Oh, it better not be like that,” your best friend says darkly as he leads you through his apartment. “I held back last time, but if this guy is as much of a douchebag as the other one, then I’m punching him all the way into space.”
“Seokmin won’t be that bad at all, I promise! Also, please don’t punch anyone,” you beg, trailing after him into the kitchen. “You know how much of a wimp you are.”
Soonyoung simply ignores your jab at his strength with a sniff. “Well, we’ll see how good of a boyfriend this Seokmin is, first.”
Every month since graduating and having to move away due to your respective jobs, you and your best friend, Soonyoung, set aside one Saturday evening where you meet at one another's houses, have dinner, and complain about all the ridiculous things that have gone on in your life whilst the two of you were apart. 
They were fun, easy ways to destress, and you loved catching up with your best friend. But after the first disastrous dinner all those years ago where you'd brought your then-boyfriend to meet Soonyoung, every few months, the monthly dinners became a sort of hell the revolved specifically around the idea of your boyfriends acting up terribly and Soonyoung staring at you with less and less faith in your ability to choose a suitable romantic partner for yourself. 
This time, you'll be introducing your fourth boyfriend over the course of the several years of these dinners, and it's safe to say that you're a bit nervous. 
“This Seokmin guy already has some notes in my bad books right now, though,” Soonyoung says as he brings out the snacks, pouring chips into little fancy dishes. This time, it's his turn to host, and he likes pretending these are fun, formal affairs. “He didn't even show up with you. Where is he?”
You sigh, picking up a few dishes and following Soonyoung out of the kitchen and into the living room. 
“I told you, he has a work thing,” you explain. “He's always really busy, but he'll be here, I promise. He promised me that he'll make time for this.”
Soonyoung snorts sceptically. “Well, that'll be a new one,” he says. “Your boyfriend not even showing up.”
“He will show up!” you say, and then roll your eyes. “Come on, Soonyoung. Don't judge the guy. You haven't even met him yet.”
“Oh, I'm judging alright,” Soonyoung says, shaking his head. He flops down onto the sofa. “Though I have to say, the bar is practically on the floor, right now. After seeing the kind of guys you date, I'll be blown away if he's not some kind of psychopath.”
You groan as you sit down next to him, immediately attacking the chips. “No matter what you say, my first boyfriend wasn't actually some psycho.”
“And neither was your second, huh?”
“Wh—no! Come on, Soons, all my boyfriends were actually quite sweet,” you argue. “The second guy paid for everything for me when we were dating.”
“Yeah, and then you broke up with him at our dinner and he smashed his own phone out of anger then tried to steal my silverware,” Soonyoung points out. “Why even try to steal my silverware, anyway? I own, like, five forks, and that's it.”
You look at Soonyoung, curious. “You own five forks?”
He waves a hand. “Yeah. But anyway, my point is, my expectations are very low, but that doesn't mean my standards are. If he's a bad person, even if he’s not as bad as the others, it doesn't matter. I'm kicking him out. You might have bad taste, but you still deserve better.”
With another long-suffering sigh, you rub your forehead. “Soonyoung, I promise you. Seokmin is actually a decent guy. You'll love him a lot, too, I'm sure of it.”
Soonyoung eyes you sceptically. “I'll believe it when I see it.”
“I swear to God—”
Three, neat knocks on Soonyoung’s front door interrupt you, and both of you stare at each other, eyes wide. 
“That's Seokmin,” you say, and immediately leap up from the sofa to go greet your boyfriend. 
“Hey, let me go see the guy first, I wanna see if he's actually all that gr—”
“Seokmin,” you say a little breathlessly, having already opened the door before Soonyoung can leave the living room and get to his own front door. When he gets there, though, he slows down, surprised. 
Seokmin beams at you, all shining eyes and gentle care. His hair is wind-ruffled, as if he'd run all the way from the bus stop in a hurry, and he's apologising profusely for being late but you simply wave his words aside, kissing him on the cheek placatingly and then laughing when he gives you a kiss on the nose in return. 
He's cute, Soonyoung realises, astounded. You look really cute together. 
Well. As Seokmin smiles at you and pinches your cheek adoringly, Soonyoung is at least able to quite happily cross off Not a psychopath on his list of worries over your boyfriend.
“Here, this is Soonyoung!” you say, leading Seokmin by the hand further into the house as if you own the place, pointing to where Soonyoung is standing at the end of the hall. “Soonyoung, meet Seokmin, my boyfriend.”
Seokmin smiles at him, expression turning a little nervous as he gives Soonyoung a wave. “Hi! It's nice to meet you.”
He holds something out to him, and it's then that Soonyoung notices the bag in Seokmin's hands that holds a rather expensive bottle of wine, and his eyes widen. 
“I kind of panicked and bought the most expensive one I could see,” Seokmin said, shoulders rising bashfully even as he smiles. “But I couldn't exactly come empty-handed, so, uh, here you go?”
Soonyoung shakes himself out of his daze, and gives a smile back, because it's somehow weirdly impossible not to when this guy smiles at him like that. 
“Thanks,” Soonyoung says, accepting the wine. None of your other boyfriends had ever brought round gifts before. “And don't stress about it. If it doesn't taste good, then we can always bust out the cans of beer,” he jokes, and Seokmin beams, relieved. 
You watch the entirety of the short exchange and can't help but smile, excited that maybe, this time, things will go well. 
“Well,” Soonyoung continues, and then gestures towards the living room. “Would you like to have this wine along with some snacks before we have dinner?”
───────────── ⏰
For the rest of the time that you're talking before actually having dinner, Soonyoung observes your new boyfriend like a hawk. 
Whilst he was, admittedly, briefly awestruck by how cute this Seokmin was (none of your boyfriends were ever cute: ridiculously handsome, sure, but cute was definitely new) he couldn't afford to let himself be swept away by that first impression. Your second and third boyfriends had originally been nice, after all, until they were… not. 
“So, Seokmin,” Soonyoung says in his ‘Y/N’s Boyfriends Interrogation Tone’, leaning forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you cringing in embarrassment. “What do you do for a living?”
Seokmin blinks at him from over the rim of his wine glass, round-eyed innocent as he takes a sip then beams. “I teach at the nearby elementary school! Working with kids is like daily marathon training, I swear, but they're all so cute so it makes it all worthwhile.”
Soonyoung raises his eyebrows, surprised. 
Elementary school teacher was definitely not a job he'd expected from one of your boyfriends. It wasn't a profession that really made much money, and all of your exes had been… well, rolling in cash.
“They all absolutely adore him, too,” you add, leaning forward with a smile. “You should see him with the kids. They’re literally all over him the minute he walks into the room.”
Seokmin laughs, embarrassed at the obvious admiration in your tone, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m around them literally every week, so I guess it’s inevitable that they grudgingly accept me.”
“It’s not just grudging acceptance,” you say, waving a hand. “I’ve seen them! They literally love you so much.”
“You saw them for one afternoon,” Seokmin says, but he’s smiling at you, all fond. “And most of the time they were fawning over you, saying that you were so pretty and there was no way you’d date someone like me.”
That makes you laugh, evidently pleased by Seokmin’s adorable little compliment, and Soonyoung stares dumbfoundedly as the two of you continue bantering. It’s almost like he’s not there. He’s a bystander, observing from the outside whilst you smile at your boyfriend and recount that time you visited him at work (you’ve visited Seokmin’s elementary school and yet Soonyoung didn’t know he existed until a week ago?), and your eyes are practically sparkling as you look at him, and Soonyoung feels very, very astounded.
Never before has he seen you look so comfortable with someone outside the close friends you already have. It’s quite cute.
And also sucks a little, because now Soonyoung has to begrudgingly contemplate whether to move ‘Lee Seokmin’ firmly into his good books.
“Alright, okay, okay,” Soonyoung interrupts the two of you as you giggle about something that had happened with Seokmin’s students. “I see that you didn't tell me about Seokmin when you visited him at school once, but I guess I'll let it slide.”
You roll your eyes as Soonyoung takes a brief moment to pout in annoyance. “Because he and I had only just started dating, then. I didn't want you scaring him away with that terrifying face of yours.”
Soonyoung eyes you, unimpressed. “I'll have to know that this terrifying and handsome face is exactly why I keep getting hired as a choreographer again and again.”
That makes you scrunch up your face, evidently disagreeing with his statement, but you don't get to retort as Seokmin leans forward then, eyes bright and keenly fixed on Soonyoung. 
“Oh! Y/N told me you do choreos for idol groups, and teach classes,” Seokmin says. “That's so cool.”
The awe is so pure and present on his face and Soonyoung can't help but preen a little. 
“Thanks! I've worked with a few notable people, yeah, but I love teaching classes more than anything else,” Soonyoung says. “Teaching budding dancers is always so fun for me.”
Seokmin shakes his head, amazed. “I'm terrible at dancing. My kids were having a recital today—which was why I was late, and I'm so sorry about that—and I've been teaching them the dance for the past several weeks. If there's one thing I've learned from it, though, is that dancing... isn't exactly my best skill.”
He says it so dramatically, face dead-serious like it's the gravest matter in the world, and Soonyoung can't help but laugh. 
“I'm sure that's not true,” he assures, but he sees you shaking your head fervently, a smile on your face.
“No, he's actually the worst in the world” you say, and Seokmin pouts and cries out in protest. “Baby, it’s true! You and I both know it.”
“Y/N’s exaggerating,” Seokmin says, almost embarrassedly, in Soonyoung’s direction, making you laugh. You take out your phone, beginning to scroll through something. “I’m not that bad. Just a little bad.”
“I mean, anyone can get better with some training. And Y/N really does like being dramatic, so—”
You shake your head, turning your phone towards Soonyoung. There’s a video playing on your screen, taken from a darkened house party, loud music playing from the speakers. “Just look, Soonyoung. You’ll see what I mean.”
Soonyoung watches the video, which evidently turns out to showcase Seokmin’s dancing skills. The cameramanship is shoddy, and it’s obvious that it’s you recording, your barely-suppressed laughter sounding so fond as you record your boyfriend.
Your boyfriend who, genuinely, really is rather bad at dancing. In kind of a cute way. But still really, shockingly terrible.
“Well,” Soonyoung says, after a moment. “Well.”
Seokmin is still pouting. “Can I use ‘abstract dance’ as my excuse?”
Both you and Soonyoung laugh at that, and you lean over to your boyfriend to coo over him and pinch his cheeks, placating him in an adoring tone and. Even though Soonyoung should feel annoyed at the blatant affection, he can’t help but smile.
Okay, so Seokmin is cute, and a little bit funny, Soonyoung observes. His regard of this guy has gone up, just a little bit.
“You two are really adorable together,” Soonyoung admits, before clasping his hands all business-like, preparing to go back into interrogation mode. 
You beam at his comment, and look over at Seokmin proudly, who also seems a little relieved. But Soonyoung isn't quite finished. He wants just a little more information before he fully decides what his opinion of Seokmin should be.
He leans forward. “So, how long have you been dating?”
“Only about three months,” Seokmin says. Soonyoung is about to frown and comment on the short time, before Seokmin grins, all sunshine-like and takes your hand. “But we’ve known each other for a lot longer than that.”
“Seokmin used to be my neighbour, back when we were in middle school,” you say, and Soonyoung’s eyes widen comically fast. “He’s… well, he was the ‘cute neighbour boy’ that I was always telling you about.”
Soonyoung jaw drops open in an instant, feeling like he’s had the wind punched out of him at the abrupt revelation. 
‘Cute neighbour boy’ was the son of the family that had lived next door to you back when you and Soonyoung were younger, and you would arrive at school every day to tell him about the latest adorable conversation you’d had with the boy next door from over the backyard fence. Soonyoung had teased you endlessly for it, but you’d insisted it wasn’t a crush and that he was just some friendly boy who always made your evenings a little sunnier with his nonsensical, cute tales.
Soonyoung hadn’t really believed it, but ‘cute neighbour boy’ moved out of town before he could ever remind you that he wanted to meet him, and your conversations moved away from the topic after that. 
“You’re cute neighbour boy?” Soonyoung asks raspily, his voice having stopped working due to his surprise at this turn of events. “You’re—and you met him again?” he says, turning to you in amazement.
Seokmin laughs, rubbing his nose bashfully. “I was walking home after work when we met again, and I just knew Y/N on sight. I was… I kind of fell in love, all those years ago, so I was so glad that we were able to meet again.”
“Then we started talking again, became friends, started dating… and now here we are,” you say, and look over at Seokmin once more, stars in your eyes. “I’m glad I found you again.”
Seokmin visibly melts. “I’m glad I found you again, too.”
You smile, eyes crinkling, and Seokmin’s eyes crinkle in sync, fondly reaching over to pinch your cheek before his thumb smooths over your cheekbone, affectionately soft.
“Fuck,” Soonyoung swears softly to himself as he watches the way Seokmin handles you so gently, like you’re something so precious to him.
A cute, funny guy who works with kids and looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky? 
Looks like Lee Seokmin has definitely made his way into Soonyoung’s super-duper good books.
“Right,” he announces suddenly, causing the two of you to jump. “Dinner will be ready in about five minutes. I hope you guys like roast chicken.”
Seokmin beams at him. “That sounds great! Do you mind if I use your bathroom first, though? And I’ll need to wash my hands. Dealing with kids is not the cleanest job in the world.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Soonyoung gestures to the bathroom. “Door on the left.”
Seokmin excuses himself, bowing to Soonyoung and sending another smile your way before heading out of the room. Soonyoung watches the way you watch him go, looking at him like he’s the reason the world still spins every single day.
God, you’re so in love. But, Soonyoung has to admit, he kind of sees why.
You finally turn to look at your best friend once Seokmin has left the room, eyes sparkling.
“So,” you say, the anticipation. “What do you think?”
Soonyoung can’t hold his polite and put-together facade any longer.
“Holy shit,” he bursts out, and you laugh, delighted. “Y/N, where did you find him?”
You grin, the relief and love clear in your face as you shrug teasingly. “Just out and about. Why? You jealous?”
“Very,” Soonyoung groans. “Wow. I never thought someone like that even existed, let alone that it’d be my best friend who ends up bagging them.”
“What can I say? I have excellent taste,” you say. 
Soonyoung shakes his head, amazed. He can’t even argue with you anymore. Seokmin is the epitome of boyfriend material. He’s just the most incredible guy in the world.
And that makes him utterly perfect for you.
He furrows his brows, thinking deeply, before suddenly lurching forward and holding you by the shoulders. Soonyoung looks you dead in the eye, serious.
"Y/N. Can I date your boyfriend too?"
That makes you splutter out a laugh, shoving him off. "What the— no! Get your own boyfriend!"
Soonyoung whines, but he's smiling, and you can't help but smile too, because all of this is Soonyoung being his lighthearted, teasing self, which is just proof that he approves, that he thinks Seokmin is good enough for you, and it makes your heart feel light. 
He edges closer to you again, nudging you in the side. "Okay, but seriously, if I asked him... do you think he'd let me—?"
You smack his face away, laughing. "Hey. Back off. Seokmin’s mine."
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fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit
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doromoni · 6 months ago
Text
Not Over the Papaya | OP81
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⊹ 。•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader
Genre : Fluff Smau
A/N : I’m back!! am i still sick? yeah a lil~ But I can finally look at my phone 🥹. Thank yall for waiting and supporting NOTP series 🧡.
Face claim : Jennie Kim
Warnings : Cursing, Grammatical Errors
Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
< Previous | Part 7 | Next >
“I have nothing to say to you”
“Ok, then let me do the talking. Y/N I’m really sorry”
“Lando, you apologizing wont make what you did go away! Can’t you just leave me alone??”
“I will, I promise… i just want to end everything correctly… please let me. Y/N please”
“i’m already happy Lando.”
“I know that Y/N and I’m happy for you! I don’t want everything to be awkward with Oscar when we do see each other.”
“For Oscar…”
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Y/N. 3m
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story replies
oscarpiastri am i crazy or is the coffee we make in your flat better than this??
Y/N. No lie youre so right, this coffee lowkey is not it.
oscarpiastri I thought I was tweakin. Where are you btw?? I left for the bathroom for 3 mins and ur gone??
Y/N. uhh… im looking for popcorn :DD
oscarpiastri How aren’t you getting a stomachache with the things you eat baffles me .
Y/N. Ion know myself dude 🤷🏼‍♀️ I’m amazing like that
oscarpiastri well no need to look, they have it at the plane. I asked John if the plane stocked popcorn and yes they do
Y/N. Really? You’re literally the bestttt 🥺🫶
Y/bf Y/N L/N when I found out that you’ve died from caffein overdose I wont even be surprised 😀
Y/N. I just wont die, simple as that my dearest best friend.
Y/bf just have fun and give em hell 🤭 . Oh! my chocolates dont forget!! Safe travel luv 🫶
Y/N. Oh they wouldn’t know what hit em. I will bring chaos . I wont forget your chocolates y/bf!!. And thank youu
maxverstappen1 Y/NNnnnnnnnnn I’m sorry 😩
Y/N. Sorry? and you are?
maxverstappen1 I changed my password already! Plsss do not be mad >:((
logansargeant Y/N are you going to the raceeeee???!!
Y/N. well yes I am American Boi
logansargeant why am i always the last to know?!!
Y/N. Sorry (Lmao I’m not)
logansargeant Ur so mean to me >:((
oscarpiastri
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story replies
Y/N. 🧡🧡🧡
oscarpiastri food was 🔥 music was 🔥 the pretty girl held my hand also 🔥.
Y/N. Is it safe to assume you liked everything then…. 🫣
oscarpiastri YES i did! I’d wife you up if you’d let me.
Y/N. I haven’t met your family yet SIR. 🤨
oscarpiastri That wasn’t a no. If the last song in your album wasnt a proposal…. 🤭
Y/N. OK! you win. Be grateful I love you. Now stop looking at ut phone you need to focus on your debriefing! I could ser John glaring at you rn!!
charles_leclerc is that Y/N’s Unreleased album????!!!
oscarpiastri why yes father, it is 😌.
charles_leclerc and you and Y/N are not letting me listen?? HOW DARE YOU TWO 😭
oscarpiastri Sorryyy . I get first listens ~ you wait for the release of Heartbreak club like the otherss😛
charles_leclerc even Alex is freaking out!!! comeonnn Son. Just 1 song plsss.
oscarpiastri ask Y/N 🙂‍↕️ She’s the genius behind this masterpiece (that i get to listen to whenever i want 😛😛😛)
charles_leclerc I will revoke your adoption! Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc.
logansargeant Heartbreak Club??? Isnt that the name of you and Y/N’s club for people who got cheated on
oscarpiastri the very same HAHAHAHAHA
logansargeant so its about Lando cheating???
oscarpiastri Yes and No… and I’m not allowed to elaborate further!
logansargeant Boi without me there wouldnt even be a club with you and Y/N~ mate yall owe me 🥰😀
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f1wags
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liked by user1 , user2, and others
f1wags Oscar and Y/N are already in Belgium🫶 .
user1 Oop, is Y/N going to attend the race 🫣
user2 Ohhhh I really hope so! Plss plss
user3 I really miss Y/N in the paddock. Miss ma’am pls mark your territory! Ion like that other girl there 🤡 Ur tainting the McLaren brand pls exit the premises.
user2 The height difference is so 🥰🫶🧡
user3 I offer myself as their child or their pet I dont care. Pls just have me
user4 Their future child would be troy bolton i swear. To sing or to do sports 😩
user5 HAHAHAHAHAHHA I could so imagine it.
user6 BET ON IT!
user7 I SAW THEMMM 😭 they were do cute I can’t!! Y/N was so busy yapping and Oscar was just smiling at her and nodding. Boi is just happy to be there, Oscar same.
user8 I still cant believe that Osc knows the tracks inside Y/N’s album
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oscarpiastri
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liked by Y/N., mclaren, charles_leclerc , carlossainz55, and other
oscarpiastri Touch down and Landed 🛩️ Excited to get behind the wheel!
charles_leclerc what is with you and spa (wdym landed?? you’re literally here since Tuesday??)
alexandrasaintmleux let him have his fun, babe.
Y/N. Yeah! have your own timeline Lechuck
oscarpiastri listen to the ladies, Mate. It’ll do you good.
charles_leclerc I love my life and the people in it 😀
mclaren Locked and Ready 💪 Let’s go for Podium!!
user1 LETS GO OSC!!
user2 continue the podium streak champ!!
user3 Oscar future WDC , i’m calling it
user4 Oscar looks extra pookie todayyy 🥰
user5. Ah Y/N effect 🙂‍↕️~ I see your man girl!
user6 Y/N’s influence on Osc is really showing fr. Ma’am ur doing amazing work!
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Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed
Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now
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littlebirdygirlywriting · 10 days ago
Note
For the drabbles, maybe Tyler realising he’s been neglecting you and your relationship because he was getting excited about Kate’s experiment and everything and realising that he needs to focus more on you or else he could seriously lose you? Little Angst but with a good ending for Tyler and reader
Tear Stains on a Flannel Shirt
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Twisters Masterlist
Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader
Summary: When a new message pops up on your phone, you don’t even bother to read it. You know what it will be. Tyler’s working late… again. But are his new work habits just a means to a devastating end?
Author’s Note: Anon, I’m so sorry this took so long! I literally had to rewrite it three times because I kept backing myself into a corner. 💀 It’s possibly OOC and I’m really not happy with a couple of things, but I didn’t want to postpone it any longer. I hope you enjoy it anyway! 🫶🏻 (P.s. I feel like Tyler would text using yellow hearts… idk why, but that feels right.)
Warnings: Angst, but with a happy ending. Intense Descriptions of a Panic Attack, (aka, I almost gave myself one writing this). Tyler uses both “baby” and “sweetheart” as terms of endearment. Swearing. Brief Mention of Death, (it’s literally just a passing thought, but better safe than sorry).
Word Count: 756 (I’m trying to cease being surprised—I have come to accept the fact that literally none of these are drabbles. 😆)
———————————————————————————
New Message from: T 💖
You sighed as the notification popped up on your screen, swiping it away without opening it.
You already knew what it would be.
Sorry, baby. Kate and I are on the verge of a scientific breakthrough—please don’t wait up.
It was the exact same thing he’d told you every other night this past… week? Two weeks?
Tears flooded your eyes, your mind falling into the one-track record it’d been playing for the last three days.
He’s going to break up with me. He’s going to break up with me.
The thoughts raced a thousand miles a minute, no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself otherwise. No matter how many times you tried to rationalize the feelings. Tyler was a good man. He wouldn’t just leave you without a word of explanation.
And yet, panic clawed at your throat like a deranged animal.
This is how it starts. This is how it always starts.
Late nights, early mornings—more time spent at work, less time spent at home.
Soon, you would be two strangers living in the same house. And then, not even that.
He’s going to break up with me. He’s going—
Pain blossomed across your chest, stabbing, constricting. Oxygen refused to enter your lungs, or perhaps your lungs refused to utilize it. Black dots crowded your vision.
I’m not—I can’t—I’m going to die!
“Sweetheart?” Tyler’s voice echoed in the entryway, bouncing off kitchen walls and landing undisturbed on the living room carpet.
His boots thumped against the hardwood floors as he passed through the kitchen into the living area. Whimpering greeted him from behind the corner of the couch, tucked up against the wall. Urgency kicked his pulse. “Baby? Is that you?” He rounded the corner of the couch… and was immediately on his knees before you. “Shit! Shit, sweetheart, talk to me. Talk to me! What’s going on?”
“Tyler, I—“ The panic in your eyes as you gasped, clinging to his arm, knees tucked up to your chest and tears streaming down your cheeks, seared itself in his mind. He wouldn’t be able to unsee it for a while. “I can’t breathe. I can’t—“
“Hey, hey! It’s okay, you’re gonna be alright. Breathe with me.” He ran a hand up and down your arm, inhaling a deep, exaggerated breath, trying to still your racing heart.
But his own pulse thrummed.
What is happening? Should I call an ambulance? There’s no blood… but she can’t breathe. Shit, shit, shit!
“Follow my lead, sweetheart. C’mon.”
A sob broke out of your chest, but you followed.
In… and out. In… and out.
“Good. That’s good, baby. You’re doing good.”
He sighed in mental relief as your body slowly started following the pattern.
Okay, she can breathe. She can breathe. She’s gonna be okay.
“T-Ty?”
“Yeah?”
He dragged a thumb across the back of your hand, attempting to ground you from what he was now recognizing as a panic attack. Swimming eyes locked onto his, despair tracing a threatening line around the edges.
“Are you… are you breaking up with me?”
Tyler couldn’t have been more shocked if you’d punched him in the gut. He sputtered, mouth moving, but with no sound coming out.
Finally, he managed a choked, “What?”
“It’s just—” You swallowed, looking away. “It’s just you’ve been gone so often, staying late at work, leaving early, sometimes even before I wake up, and I thought–-I mean—” Your face crumpled, and Tyler’s heart with it. “I mean, every other relationship I’ve ever had—that’s how they did it. That’s how it always started, and I thought—” A sob, deep and resonant, wracked your body.
“Hey. Hey, shhh. Shhhh.” He pulled you close, pressing you firmly against his chest, a tender kiss planted swiftly atop your head.
Your hands fisted in his shirt as you sobbed. Tears stained the front of his flannel.
“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay. I��m not—” His hand rubbed soothingly up your back. At least, Tyler hoped it was soothing. But your tears never slowed. “I’m not breaking up with you.”
You pulled back, your face a mess of snot and tears. “Promise?”
Tyler smiled gently, wiping your face clean with his sleeve. Because if that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was. “Promise.”
You fell back into his arms, a shudder shaking your frame as you sighed.
And he just sat there with you, for as long as you needed, his message from earlier playing in his mind.
Coming home early today, baby. I love you. 💛
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thriftedtchotchkes · 1 year ago
Text
body language
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: joel shows up at your place in the middle of the night with a camcorder and an idea
warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, soft-dom!joel, soft!joel, sex tape, established relationship, smut, unprotected piv, size kink, praise kink, overstimulation, fingering, rough sex, mild camera anxiety, moodboard for aesthetics only
word count: 7.4k
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“Joel? It’s two o’clock in the morning, you alright?”
He never calls this late. He’s never even up this late. Joel’s a creature of habit—asleep by midnight and up, bright and early, at seven. Yet, it’s still his name lighting up your phone and illuminating the pitch black of your bedroom, waking you out of a near-dead sleep. 
It takes him a moment to reply and, for a second, you think maybe he’s been out drinking with his contractor buddies. But that’s not like him, especially on a weeknight. 
When his voice finally filters through the speaker, he sounds…off. His deep drawl is lower than usual, thick with something syrupy and heady that you’d probably be able to place if you weren’t teetering on the cusp of consciousness.
“Be better if I was there with ya.”
Oh.
Now, you’re awake. The barely concealed intention in his tone and words is unmistakable, and now you know exactly why he’s calling you at two in the morning on a weeknight. Because he hasn’t seen you in weeks, and he’s horny. 
Heat licks at the base of your spine, and you get it. It's been a while since he’s been in your bed, and you're horny, too. You lean over to retrieve your phone from the nightstand, and your pilling flannel sheets slip down to your bare thighs, exposing your feverish skin to the brisk autumn air drifting in through a cracked window. It feels like the sweetest relief—you usually run hot when you sleep, but it’s nothing like this.
Switching the call off speaker, you unconsciously lean into the small screen as if it were him. A photo of Joel, soaked and covered in sand at the beach last year, flashes up at you and your lips brush against it as you murmur into the mic.
"If you wanted it bad enough, then you would be," you tease, your voice sultry and still heavy with sleep. You settle onto your back, kicking the sheets further down the bed so you can splay your fingers low on your stomach. They dip just slightly under the waistband of your underwear, closer to where you hope you'll need them soon. "So? Tell me how bad you want it."
You've never done the phone sex thing with Joel before, but if that's what he's looking for, then you're more than happy to play along. Every hushed sigh and bit-back groan, you want to hear it all. To let the gentle vibration of it in your ear reverberate through your body, feeding your arousal until it’s humming between your legs.
It’s been way too long. This might hold you over for now, but after tonight, you're going to need the real thing. Your boyfriend, close enough to touch, instead of a crackling, disembodied voice.
But, before you can even begin, your call is abruptly halted by a hard knock at the door. You shoot up, ripping your hand out of your underwear to rest over your racing heart. 
No one’s ever at your door at this hour, and the fact that someone is either spells trouble or a mistake. Part of you is relieved that you’re on the phone with Joel in case there’s actual danger out there, but another nagging part really wants to ignore the interruption. You’ve got better things to do. 
But you investigate, anyway. Better safe than sorry, right? Then, you can enjoy whatever Joel’s got planned for you to the fullest.
"Jesus, what...hold on, I think there’s someone outside," you whisper harshly into the phone as you slide out of bed, creeping as quietly as you can to the front door. "I'll be right back, I’m gonna go—“
To your surprise, Joel continues on anyway, undeterred by the commotion and the obvious alarm in your voice. But he sounds strange again, almost like he’s echoing. 
“Want it real bad."
You grip your phone tighter as you struggle to hear what he's saying, but you’re too distracted by the chaos unfolding around you to focus. He’s acting so out of character. Seriously, what the hell is going on? You have no idea why this night’s been so out of wack, but it's starting to get a little too weird for your liking.
“Uh, say that again?"
The call drops and you're left staring at your home screen, feeling confused as hell. That is, until you hear those same words in that familiar, deep drawl coming from the other side of the door. 
There's no way. 
You unlock it without bothering to look through the peephole, opening it to find a very disheveled Joel leaning against the doorframe. His face is already so close to yours like he’s been waiting for you to come to him, eagerly. Impatiently. 
The scent of his favorite spearmint gum fans over your face, and you subconsciously drag your tongue along your bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes follow the action, captivated by every minute movement you make, and you can tell how much just being in your presence is affecting him. The intensity in his gaze would make you feel nervous if it wasn’t for the obvious want simmering below the surface. 
God, why does all of this feel so potent? You’re panting...when did that even start? It’s suddenly hotter than the stifling warmth under your sheets, despite being half-naked in your open doorway, but it feels good. Right. Because he’s breathing as heavily as you are.
There’s no traces of beer or whiskey on his breath. So, he's completely sober, then. Whatever you were hearing in his voice, that wild look in his eyes, completely overtaken by his blown pupils—he’s not drunk on any of that. Only on thoughts of you. Your breath hitches when he speaks again, in person this time.
"Don't think I need to repeat myself, do I?"
Your eyes drop to the intimidating tent in his sweatpants before darting up to meet his.
"No, I believe you," you breathe out.
And, god, do you.
Adrenaline floods your veins as he lurches forward to kiss you, and, finally, you get to taste that dizzying combination of mint and Joel. The coolness of it on your tongue does little to quell the heat spreading from your lips down to where you need him most.
His hands immediately find purchase where yours were just moments before, sliding up your sides under your oversized sleep shirt—his shirt. He cups the soft skin of your breasts, and you moan wantonly into his mouth, suddenly desperate to be bare in front of him.
But he ignores the bunched-up fabric shielding you from his view. He actually seems pleased by the sight of it on your body and the scent of himself still lingering on your skin. You haven't washed it since he left it here, and you can tell it’s stoking something primal in him. Something he's left unchecked since the last time he was with you that threatens to consume him. Shit, you can hear it in his voice.
“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy lines marring his brow as if the thought of not being able to have you for so long physically pained him. “Been up all damn night…haven’t been able to think about anything else all goddamn night.”
He thumbs over a nipple while he tweaks the other, hard enough to startle a gasp out of you, and, oh, he likes that. The blunt outline of his hardening cock is insistent against your hip, but he holds himself back from grinding into you. Even as his body reacts without his permission, he’s still choosing to prioritize your pleasure first.
“You got no idea, the things m’gonna do to you tonight. Gonna treat you right, pretty girl, give ya everything you deserve.”
Your heart stutters, and you practically preen at his praise. This fucking man. You swallow his words greedily, pressing your lips into his hard enough to bruise, and the kiss descends into desperation and an unexpected need to hear more. You want more of those sweet, filthy words, to see what they really mean when he finally delivers on them. And all you have to do is ask.
“Then, give it to me.”
He parts from you with a lewd smack, a string of saliva hanging between you. You use the brief respite to take him in, your eyes roving over his tousled curls and the flush that’s quickly traveling down his neck and spreading across his chest. 
He’s so fucking beautiful, and…and why aren’t your hands on him right now? He’s been standing there for minutes, or hours, you can’t even tell anymore. Yet, when you reach out to touch him, he catches your hand in midair. His grip is gentle yet firm, the side of his mouth quirking down as he raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you’re being scolded.
"Oh, honey. I know you can ask nicer than that,” he mutters, lifting it to his lips and softly kissing your palm. 
There's a sense of authority in the way he says it, contradictory to the saccharine nature of his words. You're starting to realize you're not in control—that, tonight, what he says goes—but it feels safe. You know he'll take good care of you.
He gives your breast an encouraging squeeze as his other hand snakes further down to palm your ass, pulling your hips into his so you can feel all of him. This is what you'll get if you're a good girl, he's telling you. 
You bite back a whine, gazing up at him through your lashes, wetting your lips before you try again. His way.
"Please." 
Your voice quivers around the singular syllable that guarantees you’ll get what you need. 
“There's my sweet girl. Just need’ta be reminded sometimes, don’t ya?” 
He nods his head slowly, commandingly, while he asks the question, and you mimic him. You can feel yourself slipping, drowning in him and this feeling of security. You can’t help it, and you don’t want to.
He leans in to press his lips against yours again, devouring you in a way that feels less hungry and more exploratory, like he’s mapping you out. Filing away everything that makes your breath hitch and your eyelids flutter. He’s not immune to you, though. That much is obvious.
There's a growing wet patch on the front of his sweatpants, and you belatedly realize he didn’t bother putting on boxers before he left his house. He rubs damply against your stomach, just below your belly button, but he’s still not nearly close enough to where you need him. You don’t even know why his pants are still on. They really shouldn’t be.
Then, that same cool breeze and the delicate sound of crunchy, autumn leaves blowing along the sidewalk reminds you why. The front door is still wide open, leaving you standing in your underwear, and Joel with his hand up your shirt, in full view of anyone passing by. Not that they would at this time of night, but the thought is still a little thrilling. But not enough for Joel to leave it open any longer.
He pushes you further into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind him, and leads you backward to your bedroom. God, you can’t wait to see him—his tanned, sun-weathered skin and sparse smattering of freckles. 
There’s too many layers between you and if your body isn’t pressed against his soon, you might actually lose your mind. You’ve never been this desperate for him before, but there’s something about the way he’s acting tonight. 
This unfamiliar headspace you’re in…fuck, it feels good. You’re trusting him to make up for those weeks apart and, even more so, to dictate your pleasure in ways that are totally new to your relationship. You’ll do what he tells you, you’ll moan for him, you’ll cum for him. He knows what’s best for you.
Your clothes come off first. Your shirt is pulled up and over your head, and then he bends to tug down your underwear, letting it drop soundlessly to the floor. Next go his shoes, then his socks, leaving a trail of fabric from the living room, all the way to your bed. 
It’s so sensual—surprisingly so—even though it’s something you do all the time. But tonight, he’s handling you with such rapt attention. His eyes never leave yours as each article of clothing falls to the plush, blue-patterned carpet beneath your feet.
You’re so naked. Compared to him, still clad in his jacket, t-shirt, and pants, you feel…exposed. Vulnerable. Maybe that’s the point. You approach him carefully, waiting for his permission to touch him, and he smiles softly.
“C’mere, baby. Could use a little help here,” he reassures you, reaching out to take your hand. But instead of letting you undress him, he guides it over the thick bulge in his sweatpants. 
His fingers close around yours and, together, you squeeze him. Your eyes shoot up to gauge his reaction, but other than a nearly inaudible sigh and pinched brows, he’s not showing any other signs of being affected at all. 
Craving more, you grind the palm of your hand into him, relishing the warmth of his cock as it pulses the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat in your grasp. He hisses out a breath, his hand tensing over yours, and a flash of pride lances through you. 
Yes. Gotcha.
But your satisfaction is short-lived. To your disappointment, he tugs your hand away, but he doesn't separate from you completely. Instead, he slides it up past the softness of his stomach to rest on his chest. It rumbles softly under your touch as he speaks, except, they’re not necessarily the words you want to hear.
“No more of that. S’about you right now,” he drops his forehead to yours, fixing you with a stern look. “Later, alright? When I’m fuckin’ ya, you can touch me as much as you want.”
Shit. You clench down hard, suddenly hyperaware of the wetness between your legs and the feeling of devastating emptiness. You want it now, but you still have no idea what his plans are. 
If you’re a brat about it, he’ll probably make you wait even longer, and, anyway, that’s not what you want to be tonight. You want to be good for him. 
His broad hands spread across your waist as he tilts his head to kiss your cheek, then the underside of your jaw. Without warning, he sucks hard, likely leaving a mark you’ll have to cover up tomorrow before work. You hope he leaves more.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble remorsefully, shivering in his arms as his thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into your skin. “I can wait—I…I’ll be better.”
“S’okay, baby, I know ya will,“ he replies, dragging his lips down to your shoulder. “Just keep goin’. You’re doin’ so good.”
Finally, you push his jacket off his shoulders and it joins the rest of your clothes, hitting the floor with a solid thunk. The noise startles you enough to clear some of that comfortable haze, and you slowly pull back, eyeing him curiously. 
That’s…way louder than it should’ve been. It’s his fall coat so it barely weighs a thing, even with his phone and wallet in his pockets. 
But he doesn’t seem surprised at all. His face is unreadable except for the hint of a smirk, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to talk anytime soon. 
You bend down to pick it up, your eyes still on his, and you were right. It’s heavier than it should be by a long shot, and you’re honestly a little taken aback that you didn’t notice it earlier. But, in all fairness, you weren’t noticing much of anything earlier, save for Joel’s hands and lips on your body.
Reaching into his pocket, your fingers brush against something clunky and metallic. It’s not his phone. There’s too many moving pieces, and it’s at least three times its size. 
When the mystery item is finally revealed, your jaw drops. Joel can be a pretty spontaneous guy when he wants to be, but this? You never saw this coming.
In your hand sits a goddamn camcorder. An honest-to-god video camera that was just sitting in his pocket with no discernible reason for being there. 
While you wait for him to explain, the gadget begins to feel heavier by the second, just the idea of it burning a hole right through your palm. But you know you don’t need him to. You’re not a child, and, in the back of your mind, you already know exactly why it’s there. This is the reason he came here.
That pretty, hazy brain fog halts briefly, just long enough for you to get some answers. You want to hear him say it.
“You said you’d give me everything I deserve, right? I think I deserve an explanation,” you say, forgoing the pleasantries he asked of you earlier. 
You’re fighting not to sound weak, to emulate his authoritative tone, but your heart is pounding and you already sound out of breath. Fucking hell, this man. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life, and he knew this would happen. 
Judging by the way his eyes darken and rove over your naked curves, he’s painfully aware of it. You watch dumbfounded as his patience runs out, and he discards his shirt and sweatpants. Now that his secret’s out, he doesn’t want to wait anymore, either.
You bite down hard on your bottom lip, and your hands clench into fists at your sides to keep yourself from reaching out and touching him, but it feels impossible. It’s right there—his cock, leaking and flushed red at the tip from neglect. 
It jerks under your heated gaze, and he exhales sharply through his nose, wrapping his hand tightly around the base. He's clearly struggling as much as you are. Then, he moves closer, all but crowding you into the edge of the bed, and you can feel it pulsing against your bare skin. 
“Here’s the deal, pretty girl—you’re gonna cum s’many times as I want you to, and this here’s gonna record it all,” he drawls, holding out his hand for the camera. You acquiesce without any more questions. “Waited too damn long to see you like this and that ain’t happenin’ again.”
His other hand cups your cheek to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, and your lips part around an almost imperceptible gasp. To anyone else but him, at least. 
“You gonna let me?”
You nod quickly, praying your eyes convey all of the want you’re feeling and none of the nerves. 
“Yeah,” you answer, breathlessly. “I’ll let you.”
But he sees right through you. The apprehension in your voice is too apparent, and he clocks it on the spot. His eyes instantly soften. He tugs you into his arms and holds you close, nosing into the hair just above your ear. Relieved, you sag into his familiar embrace. 
“If this ain’t okay with you, we stop right here. Alright? We don’t do anythin’ you're not a hundred percent sure you want,” and he sounds attentive and so earnest. 
His bare skin feels so warm against yours, and you allow it to remind you of everything he promised you. Of all of the things he’s about to do to you, for you, and the tape that’ll capture it all. For yours and Joel’s eyes only, whenever you need it. And you know you will eventually. 
Rubbing your cheek into his chest, you close your eyes and take a minute to let the calming beat of his heart make you feel less nervous. This is an entirely different kind of reminder, one that reassures you that you trust this man with everything you’ve got. You’re sure of your answer.
“I want this, Joel,” you murmur, slowly opening your eyes to meet his, commanding his full attention. “I promise you, I want this so fucking badly.”
That flips the switch. He swaps your positions in the blink of an eye, looping his arm around your middle to drag you up the bed until his back is against the headboard with you between his legs. 
“Don't need'ta be shy. You’re beautiful, baby, that’s all it’s gonna see,” he breathes out, his voice thick with affection and want.
He bends you both forward, his chest solid against your back, to set the camcorder onto the sheets, and tosses a few pillows behind it to prop it up. Something intimidating clicks just as Joel tilts the preview screen toward you. 
It’s on. Brightly lit and reflecting back a depraved mirror image of you and Joel, naked and panting and needy. 
Okay. Okay, here we go. Another click, and then a red light blips next to the lens. 
It’s recording. 
The light flashes steadily, and you can feel your body tensing with every strobe. Come on, loosen up. It’s just a piece of metal. A very…scary piece of metal that’s watching your every move. Your thighs tremble from a confusing mix of arousal and nerves, and you start to feel embarrassed. 
You can see yourself on the little screen, feeling small yet secure in Joel’s arms, but you’re too focused on the camera’s attention on you to relax. As if he can tell you’re about to shrink into yourself, Joel distracts you. You haven’t told him to stop or asked him to turn it off, and he knows you would if this became too much.
"See what I mean?" He smoothes his hands down your thighs, carefully parting your legs. He gives you every chance to close them, but you don’t. "Fuckin' perfect, just like I told ya."
You try harder to see what he sees, what you're praying the camera sees. He's so free with his compliments and praise, you want to believe you deserve them.
"Prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he mutters tightly under his breath, his fingers massaging the tense muscles in your thighs. "From now on, m'gonna get to see this whenever I want. See myself fuckin' you whenever I can't."
Once you catch sight of your glistening heat reflected back at you, you help him spread your legs even further, watching as your cunt visibly clenches in response. 
Oh. Oh...look at you.
You get it now, why he wants this on film. You’re captivated by yourself, by the way Joel bites back a groan and his body seizes up as he fights not to rut into you. You’d love to be able to see that again. 
But then his fingers finally press deliciously into your clit and any lingering anxiety completely fades away. You barely even register his lips brushing against your ear, checking in before he continues with everything he’s about to put you through.
“Doin’ alright?” he murmurs between damp kisses against your neck. That tranquil haze begins to settle in again as he mouths wetly at your skin, the coarse drag of his beard a familiar comfort.
“Mhm,” you hum before your head lolls back onto his shoulder, and you slip completely. “S'good...feels good.”
“That's my girl,” he breathes tenderly, rewarding you with more pressure, pressing down harder on your clit.
The slick friction is heady and so effective that all you can do is give in as your hips swivel into his touch of their own accord. He's taking such good care of you, attuned to every gasp, the quickening rise and fall of your breasts.
You tilt your head to observe his expression. It's your only indication of what he’s feeling since he’s still refusing to allow himself to react to you physically.
He's breathtaking, looking like a man starved with his parted lips and pitch-black eyes, locked on where his fingers are slipping through the mess he’s making of your pussy. He must feel you watching him because he suddenly smirks, snaking a hand up your body to cup your breast. 
Your eyes squeeze shut and you mewl, pretty and perfect for the camera, your hips bucking clear off his lap when he begins to languidly massage the soft curve. You're getting so close already and your entire body quakes with it, your thighs trembling violently against his as he swirls tighter, faster circles into your swollen clit.
“Joel…ngh—Joel, I’m...fuck, m’gonna cum,” you whimper into his neck, grabbing his thighs to anchor yourself. "C-can I? Please."
“I know, baby, I can feel it. C’mon, give it to me,” he rasps, your demand from earlier falling raggedly from his lips. "Show the camera how hard ya cum for me."
Then, he pinches your nipple hard between his thumb and calloused middle finger, and you’re gone. Your orgasm crashes over you in a blissful wave, your stomach tensing intermittently with every gushing pulse of your cunt, and he doesn’t let up. Not until you’ve ridden his hand through your aftershocks, and slump into his chest, completely spent.
“That’s one, pretty girl.”
That’s…one? He’s counting them? You’re struggling to understand, to even focus on what he’s saying, but he doesn’t leave you wondering for long.
"You're gonna give me four, alright?” His fingers shift from your chest to your chin, tilting your head up to face him. The look in his eyes tells you to listen because he means this. “Want ya to cum on my fingers three times before you cum on my cock. Can ya do that for me?"
Christ. Your eyes dart from the attentive device, still recording every move and reaction you make, back to his. Can you? You’re not even sure if that’s possible, and your bottom lip trembles as you start to overthink it. 
You’ve never orgasmed that many times in a row, not with him or by yourself, and yet, he sounds so sure that you can. That he can make you. His thumb gently strokes your chin, and you believe him. You will.
"Yes, Joel," you find yourself nodding obediently, and you're thrilled at how pleased he looks. 
He leans down to kiss away your worries, swallowing your surprised squeal as his fingers waste no time starting up those insistent swirls on your clit again. Your hips jerk away from his hand, but he only smiles against your lips, his strong arms holding you in place.
It’s way too much, nearly overwhelming you, and you whimper into his mouth at the oversensitivity. Your floor muscles clench painfully as you continue to try and recover from your last one, but you don’t stop him. You give into him so easily, letting his adoration and sheer desire fuel you.
“That's it. You can take it, I know ya can,” he encourages, pulling away from your lips to gaze down at you in awe. "Look at my girl...so damn responsive tonight. Listenin' so well."
You can’t help the satisfaction blooming in your chest, gasping in relief as the sensitivity begins to subside into intense pleasure. His eyes drop between your legs as your hips start to chase his touch, and yours quickly follow.
“Shit,” he mutters, his voice tighter than it has been all night. “You get so fuckin’ wet when ya cum. Makin' the prettiest mess.”
His middle and ring fingers abruptly slip from rubbing merciless circles into your clit down to your entrance, plunging inside you, and god, it's exactly what you need. His fingertips drag against your sensitive walls, stroking something repeatedly that steals your breath away, and your pussy flutters around him. 
He mimics the soft sound but it trails off, dropping to something deeper that rumbles in his chest, and his slow, purposeful thrusts turn aggressive. His fingers hook inside you, and your eyes roll back, lips parting around desperate, choked-out words he'll watch back and probably cum to.
"...t-there, there. Please...don't stop—," you keen, your voice catching every time your hips buck to meet his hand. "—n-need more. Please, Joel, I...c-can you...?"
That gorgeous smirk returns, his face alight with pride. He's so proud of you.
“Beautiful and polite, Christ. Whatever you want,” his fingers don’t let up, and he looks mesmerized by how slick and easy he slides in and out. “Keep askin’ nice like that and I’ll give ya anything.”
Adding a third finger, he starts to fuck into you in earnest, ramming against something deep inside you as his palm slaps repeatedly against your clit. You see stars. Your vision begins to blur, and you’re positive you’re moaning louder than you should be this late at night, but you can’t focus on anything else but the wet squelching of your pussy around him. 
You should probably feel at least a little ashamed, but your warming cheeks have nothing to do with the noise and everything to do with the wrecked, stuttered moans in your ear, and Joel’s cock rutting into your ass in time with his fingers.
He's finally losing his composure. That careful self-restraint he's tried so hard to maintain, slowly but surely being dismantled. He clearly doesn’t care anymore, and he wants you to know it.
"Feel that? S'what ya do to me,” he grits through his teeth, his head dropping to your shoulder to watch as he smears precum messily across your skin. You unintentionally squeeze his fingers at his words, and he groans raggedly. "Fuckin'...tight—Christ, ya just keep gettin' tighter. Think m’gonna fit?"
You shake your head furiously, already feeling too full around his fingers, but your body betrays you, grinding down onto his cock before you can stop yourself. He exhales sharply at your reaction, bucking into you a little harder than he means to, and for a moment, you think maybe he likes the idea that he's too big for you. That your pussy's just too tight to take him right now.
That little red light still gleaming next to the ever-observant mechanical eye in front of you would probably love to witness that. A filthy, intimate image of you caught between intense pleasure and pain, forever preserved.
"No?” he murmurs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “S'okay, baby, we'll make it fit. Don't'chu worry."
It hits you like a freight train, your second orgasm catching both of you by surprise and knocking the wind completely out of you. He wrenches his fingers out of your heat so he can wrap his arms tightly around you, keeping you from knocking over the camera as you writhe in his lap. It's overwhelming, somehow even more intense than the first, but the sensitivity sets in quicker.
Your nails dig sharply into his arms, and he hisses in a breath behind you. You're scared you might be hurting him, but you're having trouble controlling your limbs as immense amounts of dopamine flood your system, so you scrabble against the damp sheets instead.
Fuck, you can’t. It's too much. He’s still moving beneath you, the slide of his cock against your skin made easier by the slick dripping between your legs, and you’re not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. You want to do this for him so badly, but you're not sure how much more you can take. 
One more. You can take one more. Then, he's yours.
Sensing your discomfort, he holds you through it, lets you ride it out until you’re whimpering softly in his arms. But all he offers is a brief, sweet moment of respite before his fingers return to your cunt. He mindfully avoids your clit as he slowly sinks two fingers back inside you, and, now, even you can feel how tight you are. Each one of his knuckles catches on your entrance and rubs you purposefully, if not a little painfully.
"How's that feel, baby? Talk to me.”
It aches. It’s so much. It’s not enough. The warring sensations between your legs intensify the deeper he plunges into you, but, this time, the sensitivity doesn’t ebb. Instead, it amplifies everything. You can feel him keenly, sweat and oppressive heat pooling everywhere your bodies connect, and you melt into it. Into him. 
"S'good...keep—," you accidentally clench around him, and your breath hitches at the dull throb that wracks your lower half, "—k-keep going. Want more.”
“Fuck. Such a good girl...so fuckin' good,” he breathes heavily behind you, grunting his pleasure into your shoulder every time your hips try to escape insistent strokes. It's not just the steady grind of his cock between your ass cheeks that’s getting him off. You can see the playful sparkle in his eyes on the screen, regardless of how small his image is. He's enjoying the chase. 
You think he could even cum like this, playing this dangerous game with you. It's then that you realize you like it, too. You both know how close you are to earning your reward, so agonizingly near, you can taste it. And he can feel you around his fingers, tensing and relaxing, beginning to adapt to the unbearable soreness as your orgasm quickly approaches.
"Almost there, baby. S'a lot, I know, but you're takin' it so well,” he groans encouragingly. You can hear the subtle anticipation in his voice. He’s a wreck behind you, all but fucking into your skin as he adds a third finger and increases his speed. You let out a pained moan together at the resistance. "Hurts, huh? Lemme make it better, pretty girl. Tell me what ya need."
“M-my clit, please…please,” you beg him. Politely, nicely, kindly, whatever he wants. It’s still swollen and rubbed raw despite how wet you’ve been all night, but, fuck, you need it. Just a gentle touch would be enough to send you over the edge. That’s all it’ll take.
And that’s exactly what he gives you. Three barely-there swirls with his thumb, and you’re screaming, cumming around him so hard, you’re almost worried you’ll break his fingers. Your spasming floor muscles are unforgiving, convulsing violently as you cream into the palm of his hand, but this time he doesn’t wait for it to subside. 
The internal pressure suddenly disappears and everything tilts on its axis. You’re being shifted, lifted higher by two strong arms encircling your waist, and something big—god, it feels huge—nudges at your abused hole. Joel’s speaking, but whatever he’s saying is too difficult to make out over the blood roaring in your ears. It sounds urgent. Impatient. He sounds needy.
He lowers you just a hair, and the stretch around his tip feels impossible. You were right. He's not going to fit, and the thought makes you want to cry. He has to. You need him to.
"...baby...baby," his voice finally cuts through the fog. He's shaking, trembling like a leaf all around you, but refusing to move until you can hear him. You realize he's been asking you a question, and he needs your answer now. "Need'ta be inside you. Christ, I—m'not gonna be gentle. I...can't, I can't anymore. Gonna fuck you hard, s'that okay? Can ya take me?"
He gives you a little more, a preview of what's to come before you make your decision, and it fucking hurts. It's also the most incredible thing you've ever felt. 
More. You said you wanted more, and you meant it. You nod frantically, whining your assent, but it's not enough. He needs you to say it.
"Need'ya to use your words, baby. Yes?"
"Yes," you choke out around a sob, wriggling in his arms to get him to move faster. He exhales sharply through his nose, the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat pulsing in his chest and cock.
"Yes."
It's the last warning you get before he drives into you in a single, earth-shattering thrust, burying himself to the hilt. It feels like he's splitting you in half, tearing you right down the middle, and replacing every part of you with Joel, Joel, Joel. 
And he doesn't stop there, or give either of you time to adjust. He pistons into you, a wet thock-thock-thock of drenched skin against skin, and you accept it gratefully. You're delirious with the feeling of him stretching you past your limit. So full, you're so fucking full of him. It's the only thing grounding you to the present, your unyielding walls fighting to mold around him.
After hours of giving, he finally takes. He's all but snarling into your ear like a starved apex predator feasting on his prey, biting and sucking and bruising every inch of skin he can reach. Yet, he's still so full of praise for his girl. 
"Look at us, baby. Y'see that?" he growls, just loud enough for the mic to pick up the wrecked reverence in his voice. He takes your hand and guides it down until both sets of fingers are wrapped around where he's breaching your swollen cunt. You cry out at the thickness of him, the unimaginable sight of you stretched around him, gripping him. "Takin' me so well. Knew you could. Goddamn perfect woman, s'like you were made for it."
You're starting to believe it. That you were shaped in his image, created just for him. You want to return his affection, even a fraction of the praise he's given you this entire night, but you're past the capacity for speech.
The tension in your chest is making it hard to breathe, and every attempted reply is forced from your body as an incoherent string of stuttered moans and broken sobs. Nearly every other thrust punches your cervix, and you can already feel that telltale heat flooding between your legs.
You can't tell him all of the things you want to. So, you show him, instead. Your entire body goes lax in his arms except your hips and hands, and you rock forward on every upstroke, caressing his inner thighs with your thumbs. 
His lips press against the underside of your jaw as he whines desperately into your skin, subtle groans rising in frequency and volume the longer you continue your ministrations. You can feel his stomach tensing behind you, and his grip tightens like he's either trying to stave off his release or anchor himself for when he inevitably erupts. He's so fucking close to the edge, now, you can tell.
He can, too. But he needs you to get there first. 
Your hips are already starting to buck into his, and he takes that as the go-ahead to give you more. A sign that your body can handle everything he has left. His arms unravel from around you, and he slows his pace to a deep, heady grind that sets your body ablaze. 
He snakes one hand up your stomach to cup a breast while the other drops to rub sloppy circles into your overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out at the sudden onslaught of sensations. Your eyes dart to the camcorder as it builds and builds, in your chest, at the base of your spine, and against that spot deep inside you that has you fluttering around him. You promised one more, and you're ready to put on a show it'll never forget.
But that's the opposite of what Joel wants. He delivers a sharp slap to your clit to get your attention.
"Look at me, baby. Don't look at the camera," he grits out. You whine, turning your head to face him, your expression pleading with him to keep doing that. He acquiesces with a smirk, slapping it again, purposefully and repeatedly to punctuate his demands. 
"Ya look at me when you cum, alright?" 
Slap. 
"Nowhere." 
Slap. 
"Else." 
His hand collides with your cunt a little harder, and even he moans at the contact. 
Slap.
"Ya don't close your eyes, ya don't look away. Wanna see those pretty eyes when I fill you up."
He releases your breast to grip your chin between his thumb and index finger, holding you in place.
"C'mon, pretty girl. Cum for me."
Then, his assault really begins. He jerks into motion, his hips slamming into yours frantically, matching the sweet, torturous pace of his fingers' rough touch. 
Everything goes fuzzy. You feel its steady approach, a surprisingly gentle wave that trickles from where the head of his cock meets your depths, past every sensitive pressure point to where you're gushing onto his coarse curls. But, as it peaks, you barely feel anything at all. A beat of numbness that makes you believe maybe that was all you had left in you.
A moment later, there's euphoria. You're cumming so hard, your vision blacks out, and all you can sense is your bottom half locking down and Joel sobbing into your shoulder while he empties into you, just like he promised.
He fucks you through it, quiet whimpers and murmured praise flowing uncontrollably from his lips. He tells you how tight you are, how your pussy's choking his cock and milking him dry. How good you've been and how perfect you are. He says all of it just for you, but the camera hears it, too.
For a while, he thrusts into you lazily, savoring his sensitivity and sighing through your final aftershocks. Maybe it's punishment for everything he put you through. Or maybe he just likes the syrupy pain of it. Either way, his girth nestled inside you is comforting now that you're both loose-limbed and pleasantly sticky with each other's release. 
He lets out a disappointed grunt when he eventually softens and slips out, right around the time your vision returns and the brain fog starts to clear. The flashing red light at the foot of the bed catches your attention again, and you're struck with a sudden idea. One last thing you want him to have on tape. 
Sliding haphazardly off his lap, you position yourself on your hands and knees, the camera situated with the perfect view of your core. You peek behind you, shooting a sly smile at the lens before you part your folds, allowing a thick glob of cum to leak out of your swollen cunt and drip down to your clit. Before it can fall to the sheets below, you gather up the mess with your fingers and shove it right back inside you, where it belongs.
Joel groans heavily in response, and his body finally gives out, collapsing against the headboard. You can't help but laugh, exhausted and sated, close to collapsing, yourself. Crawling back on top of him, you wrap your limbs around his neck and waist, and crash your lips messily into his.
As he returns your kiss with sleepy enthusiasm, he tugs you down flush against his chest. His hands slide down your sides to teasingly squeeze your ass, and you pull away with a gasp, intent on teasing him right back, but the bright grin on his face gives you pause. 
Now that your head is clear and you're starting to recover, you remember everything that led to this. That, after too many agonizing weeks, you finally got to have him again, in the flesh and in ways you never have before or thought you ever could. And you'll get to relive it over and over, as many times as you need on those lonely nights when he's not there to take care of you.
"I'm glad you came over," you smile softly, unwinding an arm from around his shoulders to brush back his messy curls. "I really missed you."
His grin widens, and he melts into your touch. God, he's...baffling. A total enigma. You wonder how you'll ever reconcile this man with the one on film, but, then, his eyes soften and it becomes clear. Both men love you. Both are Joel.
"Missed you, too, baby. Y'got no idea how much," he says earnestly and with so much tenderness.
"I think I got the picture," you snort affectionately, leaning down to brush your lips against his.
You kiss him again, and your tangling bodies knock over the camera just as the dead battery indicator flashes twice on the screen, then cuts to black.
thanks for reading!
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myownwholewildworld · 3 months ago
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flectere si nequeo superos, acheronta movebo (a "per aspera ad astra" drabble)
main masterlist | series masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: marcus acacius x emperor's daughter!reader. summary: for death was not the end, but the beginning. a/n: to whoever is reading this... I'M TRULY SORRY, okay?? 😭 i am a sucker for happy endings, but sometimes the heart wants what the heart needs. forgive me, please. comments, likes and reblogs are really appreciated! <3 warnings: mdni. full on ANGST. everyone dies. you've been warned. w/c: ~1.5k
Laid on his back, Marcus Justus Acacius’s life was a thin thread, just a moment away from being cut by the Parcae. It coiled and it stretched between their bony fingers, testing its resistance, its adaptability, its flexibility and elasticity. He could feel them toying with him, just another soul waiting to be reaped.
The sand beneath felt wet, his own blood pooling underneath him like a warm blanket beckoning him to go to sleep. But he couldn’t, not yet, not until he knew you’d be safe, away from harm. He was buying you time, his death an entertainment for Traianus, a loitering distraction so your father wouldn’t realise you were not in the Colosseum’s Cubiculum, watching him die.
He had ensured that the last of his loyal men took you away at dawn. Far from this forsaken city and its bloody claws, from your father’s thirst for revenge. Rome was nothing but the vestige of a forgotten promise and its Emperor was a ghoul who would stop at nothing when bereft.
Exhausted, he mentally scanned his body, weighing his options. His back hurt like hell; breathing felt like fire burning his insides; a piercing pain drilling his left temple from an almost final blow; his right fingers dislocated along with his shoulder which had popped out of its socket. And the injury right under his blood-soaked breastplate, where his torso met his hip, kept on gushing, no matter how hard he pressed the wound.
Marcus felt his life, his breath, slipping away. He was completely spent, having been in the arena for the last hour, fighting for his life like a wild animal. But the stamina, the adrenaline that fuelled him, was running out. His time was running out, one he hoped you gained — a fair exchange, one he would gladly comply to.
After duelling with opponents and animals alike, he felt clumsy, his limbs unresponsive. He was the last man standing but knew better than thinking the Emperor would grant him freedom. This was just a farce, a way of torturing him in his final moments. A lesson to others: not even an acclaimed, well-loved General was immune to Traianus’ rage.
Marcus heard a metallic, creaking sound, the gate ascending to present his next foe.
Almost choking on his own blood, his left fingers wrapped around the hilt of his gladius, and slowly turned to his side — his bloody saliva dripping off the corner of his mouth onto the dusty ground. Sticking the pointy side of the blade into the sand, he used it as leverage to stand up, his knees trembling like a newborn foal.
Two men approached him slowly, full, impenetrable armour on. One with a sword, another with a spear. Drawing a deep breath in, which caused havoc in his strained lungs, Marcus swung his own gladius in a perfect circle, then bent his knees ever so slightly to stand his ground.
Even through the pain, the fatigue and the heartache, he fought to death. The gladiator with the sword fell to his knees before his head dramatically rolled off his shoulders with ease. Marcus rotated on his heels to face his last rival; gladius tightly gripped at the ready.
“Libertas! Libertas! Libertas! (Freedom)” chanted the crowd, asking for his release.
The loud mantra was deafening and soothing at the same time. It wrapped around his achy body, knowing that even though Rome was savage, its citizens were not. A chink of hope, rather small but present. They saw the injustice unfolding in front of them, how cruel and vicious the Emperor was.
Perhaps his death would become more than just a distraction or a lesson. Perhaps it would be a wakeup call. And if so, his destiny would be fulfilled.
A sudden silence befell the Colosseum, the chanting dying off and transforming into pitiful gasps.
Marcus stopped on his tracks, catching a glimpse of the crowd — hands hovering over mouths in disbelief, faces ridden with teary, widened eyes. Then shrieking cries filling the air, pleas for mercy.
Something dark and heavy sunk to his stomach, impending dread and anxious nerves consuming him as he turned around to face the Imperial Box.
You had not been able to escape at dawn as he had planned, you were right there. Precious and beautiful and determined.
You were standing proud and mighty — a flowy, white dress hugging the hourglass figure he loved most, and golden ornaments amplifying your raw beauty. Your father was right behind you and only when the sun reflected off the blade he was holding to your neck, did Marcus react.
He lunged forward, his last enemy forgotten — heart beating wildly against his ribcage, throat closing off as tears welled up and blurred his vision. Marcus threw his gladius to the side, coming down to his knees in front of the loge.
If begging would save you, he would do it loudly and unashamedly — Marcus would drag himself over the embers of hell, set all his dignity aside, exclusively for you.
“Please, Your Imperial Highness. I beg of you. Spare her life and I’ll gladly give mine,” he screamed at the top of his lungs, his grievous voice floating above the gut-wrenching cries of the crowd.
This could not be happening. Not you, the most innocent, kind soul Rome had ever seen — that he had ever seen. His love, his devotion for you had brought you here. He could make peace with dying for you, for your freedom — but with this? Not with this senseless, revengeful death.
His eyes were transfixed on you, widened with fear, with sorrow. Asking for your forgiveness. He was sorry he couldn’t do more, he couldn’t save you.
You gifted him with a weak smile before mouthing an “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he muttered silently, desperately. Hoping his breathless confession would reach you.
Your father’s hand moved along your neck, slitting your throat.
When Marcus saw a river of red staining the front of your white dress, his body and mind just went numb, tears falling unbeknownst to him.
He’d failed. It was over. It felt like if it had been his own hand slashing your neck. Because it probably had been.
Still on his knees, he sat back on his heels, his shoulders sloping down as all purpose left him. Marcus was empty, devoid of emotion, unable to feel. A carcass of someone he was but no longer existed. There was no reason to fight, to remain on this earthly plane.
He’d rather meet you on the other side than living a purposeless, unsavoury life. He’d welcome death like an old friend and would hope for your warm embrace before embarking onto your next adventure together.
Defeated, and through a thick veil of numbness, he saw Traianus’ thumb pointing downwards. A welcome sight.
Before closing his eyes, Marcus saw the spear coming towards him on the corner of his eye.
Then darkness. Forever darkness. A final relief.
“Wait, I know he’ll come,” you begged the Underworld’s ferryman, your hands nervously twisting on your lap.
“The time has come, my lady,” his guttural, harsh voice reached your ears, but not your heart.
You knew he’d come, and you’d wait. Perhaps not today, not at the same time as you, but Marcus would join you. You could have your happily ever after away from Rome, from your father. From life. You could love each other in joint Death, since you couldn’t do it freely in life.
The small boat started moving, drifting away through the dense fog, while your sight lingered on the shore. Hopeful, always hopeful, even in death. A sudden shift in the atmosphere made you squint your eyes, distinguishing a silhouette on the shore — one you would recognise in all lives you lived.
You sprung to your feet, your salty tears mixing with your trembling smile.
“Marcus!” you called him, gripping the edge of the boat.
You watched him turn around, first confused, then understanding. When your eyes locked through the thick mist, the resolution you saw told you he’d follow you wherever you wound up. Even if that was the Underworld.
Marcus jumped into the river, swimming through the darkness and the floating souls clinging onto him. Soon enough he got to you, strong arms lifting him up over the edge of the boat. You sighed, a wave of comfort washing over you as you welcomed him in your warm embrace.
“I thought you wouldn’t make it today,” you confessed, cradling his face with your lips closed to his.
“For you, I’d give up my life in the blink of an eye, mea vita (my life). Don’t you ever forget that,” he whispered, his thumb caressing your bottom lip.
Knelt on the ferryman’s boat, you hugged each other, his soothing hands roaming your body as you blended into a loving, eternal kiss.
For death was not the end, but the beginning.
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lazycats-stuff · 11 months ago
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Batfamily x male reader
Batfamily x male!reader - this is part 1 everyone.
Summary: some talking is done.
Warnings: angst, fluff, (Y/N) is trying and so is the fam, cursing, trying to forgive, a punch was thrown, cutting people out
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The fight echoed through the manor. Even days after it, the tension was still palpable. (Y/N) truly wanted nothing more with his so called brothers and father. If they tried to talk to him, they would be ignored or (Y/N) would just snap at them.
Almost biting their head off.
Safe to say, things were going to complete and utter shit.
Bruce didn't even know how to start talking to (Y/N). Was he emotionally reserved? Yes. But will he try everything in his power to make it right?
Yes. Everything he can do, he will do.
Bruce has decided to call a meeting. He made (Y/N) leave his room and (Y/N) has never looked worse. He couldn't sleep for days on end, only getting about 4 hours per night. He wasn't in the mood to eat either. He was only alive because Alfred had to make sure he was still alive.
Everyone noted that he looked like he didn't want to live anymore. More so, he looked dead. (Y/N) just sat down, an angry look on his face, arms crossed and body language closed off. He sat down as far as away as he could from them, clearly not happy to be here in the slightest.
He tucked himself in the chair, ignoring everyone and everything.
" (Y/N)... " Bruce started quietly, clearly not wanting to have a blow out and an explosion. " We have to talk through this problem. " Bruce continued just as softly and (Y/N) scoffed.
" We know we have been... Neglecting you, to say the least. But... We want to fix our mistakes. We want to be better. " Bruce said and (Y/N) chose to roll his eyes instead of listening. No matter what they could say could ever fix this.
" Well... 10 years too late. " (Y/N) said sarcastically, tapping his fingers against his tucked up knee, clearly anxious to leave this room behind. He really was anxious too leave.
" And we realize that. " Tim started softly, looking at (Y/N) with a sad look on his face. (Y/N) wouldn't allow them to see them sweat.
" Bullshit. " (Y/N) said quickly. They don't realize shit. " You are only doing this because Jon came over and pointed it out and now you are worried that the word doesn't spread. " (Y/N) spat out, leaning on his tucked up knee, glaring that the floor.
" That is not true. " Damian said and (Y/N) looked up, glaring at Damian, scoffing at the words, then laughing bitterly.
" Oh please. You never told Jon about me! I'm assuming all of your friends don't know I exist, right? " (Y/N) said as he rubbed his eyes from the exhaustion.
The silence was the only answer that (Y/N) needed.
" Yup and there it is. No one knows I fucking exist! " (Y/N) said loudly, blood pressure raising. He took a deep breath to calm down. " Just as I thought. No one knows I exist. No one even cared about my school achievements either... Let me ask you something Bruce. " (Y/N) asked, turning his attention to Bruce.
" Do you have a college fund for me? Just like you do for other four? " (Y/N) asked, itching for an answer. When Bruce looked away in shame and (Y/N) scoffed yet again.
" Also, don't you fucking dare setting it up. I have got a scholarship anyway. " (Y/N) answered the unasked questions. Bruce was proud of (Y/N). How could he have done this to (Y/N), forget to put a college fund...
" I'm sorry (Y/N). I didn't mean to forget you. " Bruce said, keeping his distance, but wanting nothing more than just hug him and kiss the anger away.
But alas, that's not how it works. (Y/N) has to forgive him first.
" Can you tell us more about the scholarship? " Jason chimed in, wanting to speak about something that (Y/N) could be happy about.
" It's for MIT. " (Y/N) said quietly and everyone was in shock. They didn't know that (Y/N) was into science and mathematics and what not.
Another mistake of theirs.
" That's amazing (Y/N). " Tim praised, smiling at (Y/N). Getting into MIT is hard as hell.
(Y/N) rolled his eyes, but deep down inside, he craved that praise more than life. But some praise won't erase everything that happened.
" You would really have to move then... " Dick said sadly and (Y/N) glanced at all of them. They all seem sad that he would have to move all the way to Massachusetts, but it would be necessary. (Y/N) needed to get out of here. One way or another.
" I think what we all mean to say is that we are sorry. There is no excuse, not a single thing that could justify what we did and what we have caused to you. " Damian said and (Y/N) was shocked to hear the word sorry just tumble out of his mouth like that, so effortlessly. So easily. But he composed himself quickly.
" How do I put his nicely? " (Y/N) said, looking sarcastic. " I don't give a damn about any of you. I don't give a damn about apologies at all. I don't care about any of you. The moment I move out, all of you are going to be dead to me. Period. " (Y/N) said as he quickly stood up, going to his room.
He isn't going to fucking listen anymore.
" No, (Y/N) wait! " Everyone called after him and tried to stop him. Jason managed to grab his arm, but (Y/N) threw a punch and knocked Jason down on his ass, making the others rear back. It was a truly what the fuck moment for all of them.
(Y/N) was never violent.
(Y/N) slammed the doors of his room shut and everyone was silent. Jason was breathing heavily through his mouth as (Y/N) broke his nose.
" He has a hell of a punch. " Jason muttered as he stood up.
" We have a shit ton of gravelling to do. " Tim muttered and everyone nodded in agreement. Saying that they are dead to him, well, will be dead to him, that was sort of a nail in a coffin. Coffin about their relationship...
That was probably on the brink of death, if not dead already.
" Come on, he needs some time alone. " Bruce said and ushered everyone out of the hall, mostly Jason to take a look at his nose, to treat it and heal it.
That same night, (Y/N) quietly managed to get his things into a car, while others were on patrol and blocked them in the process. Then he started driving to MIT, because he didn't have the nerve to put his things onto a plane and go. And besides, he didn't have enough things anyway.
(Y/N) could finally start his new life.
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sweetiechenle · 16 days ago
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liability ᕱ⑅ᕱ jeno
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pairing: non-idol!jeno x afab!bunnyhybrid!reader
summary: no matter how badly you wanted to deny it, jeno was your home
warnings: slight prostitution in the beginning (don't do that???), you get beat up but its not that descriptive (sorry), cursing, reader is stubborn and jeno is kinda obsessed w you (in a good way) like its love at first sight, its serious for him, found family, little soulmate au, strangers to lovers, strangers to roommates(?), talks about class status, if i forgot anything i'm sorry, fiction ≠ reality
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it was as if you could feel the air move right through you, it sent a shiver down your spine, yet you stood tall on the side of the road. a couple more girls were with you, some had already found their ‘date’ for tonight. you had seen some clients earlier in the night, but now it was up to random people to come and seek you out. you were dying to get back to your hotel, but your inner demon had won the fight earlier to stay out a little longer to make more money since your hotel room was only up until the morning, you needed it for a couple more days before going elsewhere. it was straightforward for now, but life for a poor, family-less hybrid never was easy, decade after decade, it never got better, so it was up to you and other poor hybrids to fend for themselves.
your mother and father died when you were younger and their guardians didn’t want to be the only ones to have to take care of you. so they left you to rot in shelters and pounds, you barely remember them at all now that you’re older. hybrids don’t really own houses because they usually would have a guardian, while renting apartments was debatable. only if a landlord would allow it, most of the time it wasn’t worth it. hybrids, most of the time didn’t get jobs either, so employers didn’t really hire, so there was no real way for you to make money other than sleeping around for it. it wasn’t fun or ideal but it was better than being starving and ‘homeless’ (or not living from hotel to hotel). you looked around in the dark, only the street lamp illuminating the faces of the other girls near you, telling one, who was a tabby cat hybrid, that you’d be walking down the street looking for potential clients. ‘be safe’ she said before you disappeared into the night, you had said the same.
no matter how many years you’ve been doing this, dark alleys and corners always freaked you out, it was better to stay in groups, but you needed the money. you scratched behind your long ears, picking up sounds in the night, as cars drove past you. one stopped a block away from you, the window was rolled down and that only meant one thing. You took a deep breath and braced yourself, walking towards the car. crouching down to the window, you leaned in.
‘get in’ the random stranger said, you sighed while opening up the car door, it was like clockwork and you were used to the rudeness of strangers. ‘what breed are you?’ the question was normal, some hybrid breeds were more desirable than others, thankfully you being an english lop was more enticing than others.
the stranger drove off with you in the passenger seat, he stopped in an alley which was normal for the most part. you braced yourself, this part was always the worst, it was always awkward trying to set the atmosphere, especially with someone like him who wasn’t much of a talker. you started to take off your shirt, it wasn’t until you felt a sharp pain in your stomach. closing your eyes in pain you groaned and you looked down and all you could see was red and you felt a throbbing pain shoot up and down. looking around, you noticed the open space outside, reaching for the door handle, it opened as you pulled weakly. falling to the ground, your knees hit the concrete hard, but all you cared about was getting out alive. you heard of shit like this happening, poor, homeless hybrids you knew going missing, and you silently cursed yourself for not being more careful.
not knowing where to go, you shuffled on the ground, crawling to wherever you could. you touched your stomach and wiped your tears, terrified that you’d end up as another nameless hybrid; dead. you saw shoes and looked up at the stranger towering over you, ‘please’ you cried. there was no way of convincing him anymore as he kicked your torso, you fell to the ground on your side, groaning and trying to roll up in a ball, crying as you felt heavy punches coming down. your head kept hitting the concrete with every punch, and you gagged on the taste of your blood and tears.
your eyes eventually grew heavy and there were no more tears left in you, only fatigue as the concrete below you cooled your body down. after what seemed like hours you hear murmurs around you, causing your body to jerk awake. panicked that the stranger was back to finish the job, you tried to move away with all of the strength you had left. before you could get away you could feel yourself getting lifted off of the ground, and put into a vehicle. Once the stranger set you down gently on the seat you lost consciousness again.
as you came closer to your senses, you could hear people talking and the beeping of random machines, everything was cloudy and you couldn’t see very well even though your eyes were open wide. with a shot of adrenaline, trying to get up you huffed and pulled at the cables that connected you to the machines. in a frenzy, random people stormed at you with concerning looks saying things like ‘no’, ‘don't do that’, and ‘lay back down’. you tried to push them away, scared of the unknown situation you got yourself into, the doctors eventually got you back down on the bed. a lady sat in front of you, explaining everything, you tried to grasp the conversation and to piece everything that happened together, someone had picked you up and taken you to the alley and beat you. then someone found you and took you to the hospital, of course, no cops were going to be involved, you were just a poor hybrid. she informed you that the person who picked you up would be willing to let you stay with him since you were not chipped. you nodded, knowing you didn’t have a guardian to go back to.
after the sudden adrenaline wore off, you could now feel the pain that was inflicted the night before, the nurse told you that you had broken your wrist, cuts along your body, and major bruising and swelling, but that you should be making a full recovery soon. you sighed, scared of what will happen to you now. after a couple of minutes, a nurse and a man entered your room, you stopped watching the tv and looked at them, the nurse started, ‘y/n, this is jeno, he was the one who picked you up last night and brought you here, he decided that you can stay with him until you fully recover.’ you nodded, ‘he already signed you out, so you can leave whenever, if you feel any worse, come back and see us and we can take care of you again.’ you were surprised at how kindly they were treating you, he must be very important to be able to give you treatment here in a human hospital…
you had no choice but to trust this man, it was either go with him or go back outside and fend for yourself waiting for your attacker to come find you at any moment. you sighed and followed him outside, moving slowly due to your injuries, you took notice of how he waited for you whenever you fell behind. he took you to his car in the parking lot, opening the passenger door up for you, you glanced at him, and he motioned for you to get in, and you eventually did. jeno was beautiful, he had a boyish look but somehow still looked mature, he wore a suit that looked expensive, and he always had a permanent smile with kind eyes, he looked like someone you could trust. you hoped to god he was someone to trust. you kept staring at him until he glanced over at you, his mouth slightly upturning in amusement.
‘got any family?’ he asked you. you shook your head as if he was watching (he wasn’t).
‘no’ you answered meekly
‘got any friends?’ he asked again.
same answer ‘no… unless you count other prostitutes’ you said lowly, almost embarrassed.
he hummed in response, ‘is that what you were doing last night?’ another question and you were growing tired, leaning your head on the window, watching the trees go past.
you stayed silent for a minute, letting the question marinate in your head before finally answering him, ‘gotta make money somehow’.
‘where were you staying? i can go pick up your things’ he offered and you took your head off of the window to look at him.
‘you’d do that for me? It’s not a lot of stuff…’ you didn’t want to sound like a burden, first, he saved your life, taking you in until you fully healed, and now he wants to go out of his way to help you get back what little you had. ‘honestly, the hotel probably threw it all away by now’ you looked down and played with the ends of the sweater the hospital put on you, the only outfit you had right now.
he sighed and you could tell he was already frustrated, ‘well if that’s the case, i’ll just get you more things, as of right now you are my responsibility.’ he answered and you decided to leave it at that for the rest of the trip.
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‘okay he is rich’, you concluded as he pulled up to his apartment in the middle of seoul, you don’t even think you’ve ever seen this part of the city before. he parked the car and went around to open up your door and help you out, he left you to stand there as he handed his keys to someone else who took the car to god knows where. ‘come on’, he guided you to the front of the door, opening it with a key card and taking you to the elevator, the security guard glaring at you as you walked past him behind jeno.
the elevator ride was silent until jeno spoke up first, ‘i apologize, my apartment is kind of a mess… i didn’t expect any guests.’ he laughed a little bit to lighten up the mood.
you gave him a little smile, trying to make light of the situation, ‘it’s fine i didn’t expect to end up in a hospital’. he didn’t say anything else.
you waited as he unlocked the door, opening it for you, which further confirmed your thought that he’s rich… thanking the heavens that you weren’t picked up by anyone else. the living room was spacious with an open-concept kitchen and appliances that cost more money than what you would see in your entire life, he started to show you around, and you followed him. ‘this is the living room’ obviously, you thought to yourself but didn’t want to ruin the show, so all you did was nod as you walked from room to room. he showed you his room, where the bathroom was that you could use, and then he opened the door to another bedroom stating, ‘this can be your room! i’m sorry it looks really boring…’ he looked down at his feet, almost shy to face you, ‘to be honest, i’ve never really had any interactions with any other bunny hybrids, one of my close friends, haechan, has a bunny hybrid named jaemin though, i’m not sure what breed… i plan on calling him and seeing what i should do… he’s really nice, you should meet him sometime, like a playdate or something…’ he was trailing off and you giggled lowly as he voiced his train of thought, he looked up at you and excused himself to go call his friend, telling you to ‘make yourself feel at home in the meantime’, you weren’t sure what he intended, never really having a ‘home’... you decided to take a look around, taking in the scent of the man who is housing you so you can become familiar with it. he was in the kitchen, taking out pots and pans and glancing at his phone ever so often, ‘what are you doing?’ you asked him.
‘making us dinner, i called haechan, he can come by next week with jaemin if you’d like to meet him, he’s a rabbit hybrid just like you.’
you felt uneasy, you wanted to please him, but the thought of being around a lot of strangers overwhelmed you, he took notice of your silence and the way you began to fiddle with your sleeve, ‘just think about it for right now’ he said giving you a reassuring smile, ‘you should go lay down and i’ll let you know when dinner is ready.’ you nodded and left him to it.
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you don’t remember when you fell asleep but you gasped when someone shook you awake, almost giving you a heart attack, but it was only jeno looming over you beside your bed. you stared at him with wide eyes, as if asking ‘why would you do that!?’. he gave you a sheepish smile, ‘dinner is ready… i have a surprise for you!’ you got up and followed him to the kitchen. he pulled out your chair and you sat down without another word, he brought you a hot, steaming bowl that smelled like carrots, maybe a bit too much on the nose, which made you silently laugh. he put something else down for you, ‘that’s for you,’ it was an old iphone, ‘i can’t,’ you refused to take it, there was no way you could pay him back for it, ‘don’t worry its an old phone, you need to have a way to contact me while i’m at work in case you need anything.’ he was trying really hard to get you to take it and it was kind of annoying. ‘you don’t even know me’ you said, pushing it away, he had already sat down across from you, eating his own meal. He decided to ignore your stubbornness, ‘eat your food before it gets cold,’ you had no choice but to oblige.
after dinner, you offered to help clean up, but he refused, telling you to go sit on the couch and find something for them to watch, you sighed and sat down on the leather couch, getting comfortable, as you were channel surfing it dawned on you that you shouldn’t be getting too comfortable, this was all temporary anyways. glancing down at your bandaged wrist, when it was the day to take it off, when your bruises faded, when your cuts healed; that was the time you knew you had to leave, saying goodbye to your savior and his warm house he invited you to. you thought to yourself that it was probably out of pity and to save his ego, now he’ll be able to tell people ‘well i saved someone from dying, what did you do last night?’ you felt shame, that you were just using him, and that you were burdening him, it was embarrassing and you looked to the front door debating if you should just save him the trouble and leave tomorrow to go back to your old hotel and beg for a room and your stuff back. you looked up when you felt the other side of the couch dip, you looked up at him, he had changed out of his suit and he was now in sweats and a white t-shirt that didn’t look as expensive. before he could say anything you decided to speak, ‘why?’ was all you could say, it was all you wanted to know, like you stated before, he didn’t know you and you didn’t know him, so why did he care so much? why did he want to help you so badly? he cleared his throat and sighed, collecting his thoughts of what to say, ‘i was working late, i never work that late, but i had a project i’d been working on with my team. the stress was eating me alive so i wanted to finish it as soon as possible,’ you nodded, wanting him to keep going, ‘after i finally finished, i called my friend who was at a bar near where you were… so i went and had a drink, and when i was leaving… that's when i saw you.’ he closed his eyes and sighed, not wanting to upset you by bringing up what happened, ‘i couldn’t just leave you, you would’ve died.’ you hummed, knowing that much was true.
‘i don’t know, i guess it might've been the buzz of alcohol or something else compelling me to take you to the hospital. when they told me you needed to have emergency surgery for some of your injuries i couldn’t just leave until i knew you were okay… then they told me you weren’t chipped and probably didn’t have a home, so they told me they couldn’t perform surgery without a guardian, and i was at a real crossroad…’ you went wide-eyed as he recounted the night, ‘you didn’t…’ you whispered to him. he sighed and looked up at you, he was guilty and you couldn’t believe it… all for a stranger. ‘i signed some papers and you were sent off for surgery, they didn’t tell you, but he had stabbed you with a blunt object in your stomach, it wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t good either… you would’ve died.’ you were baffled, you couldn’t even form a thought of what to say to him, instead you got up and walked to your room, slamming the door and crawling into bed, leaving your new ‘guardian’ sitting on the couch.
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the light coming in through the blinds woke you up, and it hurt, your bones screaming for some kind of relief as you recovered from what had happened a couple of days before. you thanked yourself for being so exhausted that you didn’t even have time to have any nightmares about what happened, you guessed you’d gotten used to the trauma by being alone your whole life.
you groaned as you got up, taking as long as possible to go outside of your room, scared you’d see jeno. you peeked your head out and looked around the apartment, you could see that his bedroom door was left ajar and that the living room and kitchen were empty. You left your room and made your way to the kitchen table, noticing a note for you and the phone you refused to take last night right next to it. the note was from jeno obviously and you rolled your eyes at how it started with an apology for what happened last night, that he would be home later after work and to call him if you needed anything, and that lunch was in the fridge for you. you ate the lunch he prepared for you while playing on your ‘new’ phone. it was still early in the morning and you didn’t know when he would be back so you lounged around the apartment, taking a nap here and there until you heard the door open.
it was like a routine now, you would wake up, jeno would be gone, you’d eat lunch and wait for him to get back to do things with you, sometimes taking you out on a walk or watching tv when you felt too tired or sore to do anything else. it had already been a week with jeno and it was finally the weekend, a couple of days ago he asked if you wanted to meet haechan and jaemin, and you reluctantly agreed, if jeno trusted them then you would too.
jeno was making dinner for the four of you and you sat at the table, watching him go back and forth around the kitchen. ‘so, jaemin is a little hyper and can be touchy at times, don’t let him scare you, and don’t be afraid to push him off, he won’t get offended.’ you nodded, taking mental notes, ‘haechan is funny, if you like my jokes, you’ll laugh at his.’ you gave him a look and he stopped to look at you too, ‘i don’t laugh at your jokes.’ you told him, half messing with him and half telling the hard truth. he playfully rolled his eyes and went back to cooking without a single word.
jeno was putting on the finishing touches for dinner when the buzzer for the intercom rang, ‘oh that's them!’ he was running around the kitchen in a stripped apron with his black hair a mess, he put down the pot and ran to the door to buzz them in, in his white socks he slides on the wood floor and you stifle a laugh, ‘when they come to the door can you let them in?’ he asked. you agreed and got up to stand by the door and before you knew it, there was a knock, you opened it and was greeted with a very strong scent of another bunny hybrid, you didn’t even realize it had been almost a week and a half since you’ve seen another hybrid.
before anyone could be greeted a taller man pushed past the other one in front, who you assumed was haechan, and he grabbed you by the shoulders, which startled you a little bit. right from the get-go you knew this was jaemin. he was tall and undoubtedly handsome, the dirty blonde tinted hair matched his gray ears that stood up on his head. you had no choice but to stare into his big, dark eyes as he continued to hold a death grip on your shoulders. he took a deep breath, obviously taking in your scents, you tried to ignore the fact that jeno was staring at you. ‘i’ve heard so much about you’ the other bunny said. you smiled awkwardly and haechan came up to take jaemin away from you, muttering a ‘sorry about him’.
you helped jeno set the table, while talking with haechan and jaemin, trying to get to know them better, and continuing to talk throughout dinner. jeno was right, jaemin was very enthusiastic and hyper, and it took a lot to keep up with him in conversations. you learned that haechan had been ‘gifted’ jaemin when he was young, so they had known each other their whole lives. you tried not to feel jealous, wondering what that was like, to not have to worry about anything since the day you were born, to always have someone to watch over you. you looked back at jeno, who was talking with haechan, it reminded you of when he stated ‘you are my responsibility’ but yet you knew that what you yearned for was not with him, it scared you, knowing that any minute by the time you are fully healed, he’d give up liability and send you to the nearest shelter. you couldn’t have anything permanent like what jaemin and heachan had.
haechan and jaemin eventually left (not before exchanging phone numbers), leaving you and jeno to clean up, it was silent until jeno got your attention. ‘so i made you a doctors appointment, just to check on how you’re healing.’ you felt a sharp pain at your chest, you knew he meant well, but it scared you due to the fact that would mean you’re leaving sooner than you thought. ‘oh, thank you.’ was all you could say, ‘its in a week so make sure to be ready to leave before, i’ll remind you in a couple of days.’ you nodded, looking down at the table, wiping it clean.
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the night before your appointment (after watching reruns of trivia shows with jeno), you got into bed and took out your phone, searching up homeless shelters in the area for hybrids, looking over a few you saved their addresses to write down later incase jeno wouldn’t let you keep the phone when you eventually left. after a while your eyes grew heavy, and you fell asleep, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night from nightmares but those were far and a few inbetween, you remember a couple nights ago when it got so bad you woke up thinking someone was trying to break in. it was really embarrassing since you even woke up jeno, who got up to go check the door, promising you that no one was there, he even let you sleep in his bed with him, reassuring you he wouldn’t let anyone get inside the apartment. thats when you felt your most safest, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him anymore, so you tried to deal with them on your own.
by the time morning came around you scrambled to get up out of bed in time for your appointment, it seemed like jeno was running late too since he was no where to be found. before you knew it, it was time to leave and jeno had called you, stating that he was outside and that he had run somewhere before your appointment. you left the apartment and met him outside, you got in his car and he asked you how you slept, you said ‘fine’ and he didn’t push any further. the car ride was silent and so was the doctors appointment, the nurse performed a physical and looked over your previous wounds to see how you were healing, jeno stayed in the waiting room until it was time to give an answer on what to do next.
jeno entered the room and the nurse informed him that you’d been healing fine and that the cast on your wrist could come off now and you were nervous, it made you feel even worse when jeno asked her ‘we can do that here? now, right?’ she nodded and told you both to wait as she went to go get the doctor to do it. you didn’t bother to look at him when he sat down in the small room, you noticed how it was a human hospital like before. ‘i bet you’re excited to get the cast off’ he stated, you hummed in response, refusing to look up at him. he continued, ‘i also bet you’re hungry, im sorry i wasnt there to make you breakfast this morning, i had a work emergency…’
before you could say anything, the doctor and the nurse had arrived to take off your cast. silently mourning the loss of the seal that bounded you and jeno together, you didn’t want to say good bye, but like all things you’ve experienced, nothing good ever lasts. after, jeno checked you out and despite not even telling him you were hungry, he still stopped by somewhere to pick you up food.
later that day it was silent around the apartment, the air was heavy and it felt like the both of you wanted to say something but neither of you would go first. until jeno finally decided to break the ice, and you braced yourself for the confrontation. he had called after you from your room, and you anxiously made your way to the kitchen, taking small steps as you scratched the back of your ears. he showed you something on his phone, it was your search history from last night, ‘whats this?’ he asked. you were at a loss for words, you really didn’t know what to say ‘ummm’ you looked anywhere but at him, ‘i just thought…’ you trailed off, waiting for him to say it. ‘that i wanted you to leave?’ he whispered, you could hear the hurt in his voice. you sighed, ‘i just thought… that once i got better, you didn’t want me here anymore.’ you confessed, still refusing to look at him. He sighed and brought is hand to rub his temple, trying to stay calm, ‘do you not trust me?’ he asked. in a small voice you answered, ‘you don’t even know me.’
he slammed his fist on the kitchen table making you jump. ‘y/n, you can’t be serious, i know we haven’t known each other for as long as say, heachan and jaemin, but i think i know you enough that i want you to stay… you yell at the tv when someone doesn’t get a trivia question right, you know all of the answers despite not going to school, only because you used to go to the library as a kid and read all the books you could. you cried when we watched titantic together even though you’ve told me you’ve seen it before. your ears twitch whenever the music is too loud in the car, and that you like when they are scratched late at night,’ he moved around the table and grabbed you by the shoulders, bringing you closer to him, ‘whenever i make you your favorite food you tap your foot on the floor,’ he was staring intensely into your eyes, trying to find any confirmation that you were wrong, ‘y/n… you told me that you don’t have a family but, the thing is, i don’t either. i don’t understand everything you’ve been through, but i want to, i need you to believe that you deserve love, a family.’ your eyes welled up with tears and you couldn’t see him anymore, it was all blurry, your chest rose and fell rapidly, ‘i know we haven’t known each other for a while, but ever since i met you, ive had more reasons to be here than i’ve had in years, all i do is work, come home, eat and sleep, and i repeat that, i- i don’t have anyone here to watch titanic with me, or to read me a book while i cook and do laundry.’
hot tears rolled down your face as you remember the book you started reading and then eventually to him after he had asked too many questions about it, it was almost over, too. so many thoughts were running around in your head, this had never happened to you, and like most good things, it almost had always seemed too good to be true, all the times you were almost adopted as a young child but nothing was ever permanent, you didnt want to be fooled, like this would be any different. you knew better. he shook your shoulders slightly as you hesitiated, ‘bunny, please say something… it feels as though we were supposed to meet’ he whispered.
in his embrace the room felt way too small and way too hot, without even thinking twice, you broke away from him and ran towards the door. opening it you slammed the oak shut, the noise echoed through the hallway, definitely alerted some of the neighbors. forgetting about the elevator the stairs would be faster, you could hear jeno call after you as you hopped down the staircase, trying to leave the building as fast as possible. the regular security guard gave you a concerned look and tried to ask if you were okay, but you rushed right past him and out of the front door, into the busy streets of seoul. moving with the crowd you had no clue where you were going and at this point, you didn’t care. you looked back to make sure you’d lost jeno in the crowd, he was the last person you wanted to see right now, certainly he was lying, all everyone did was use you, and how was this any different? you walked around seoul until you got too tired, you had already turned on airplane mode so jeno couldn’t track you or call, you stared at the time and then a picture of him as your wallpaper, one you took without him looking at the camera, you knew you’d have to face him sometime, only to tell him goodbye and give back the phone.
you sighed, calling jaemin for some company and advice, you asked him to join you at this random cafe you found and not to tell anyone else. he reluctantly agreed, saying he’d be there soon. when it started getting dark, he finally showed up and silently walked to your table and sat across from you. ever since you met him, he became your closest friend (that wasn’t jeno), you two texted constantly and he would keep you updated on the latest ‘memes’ and ‘tiktoks’, so it was only natural to call him and talk about it. ‘y/n, are you okay? you sounded kind of panicked over the phone… where is jeno?’ jaemin looked around. he was wearing a hat, hiding his ears and hair, he had on a leather jacket and a hoodie, bundled up against the cold air outside. ‘well…’ you started, now picking at your nails nervously, ‘i don’t know, i left.’ at that he whipped his head around to look at you, bewildered, ‘dude, he’s probably worried sick!?’
you groaned and burried your head into your crossed arms, hiding from everything, ‘thats the thing, he shouldn’t be, i didn’t think he wanted me to stay, he just still feels bad about what happened, i know all i am is just a burden.’ you confessed. ‘im not meant to stay anywhere, jaemin, that kind of stuff doesn’t happen to me…’ he looked at you and sighed, grasping your hands in his, making you look at him. ‘but that stuff could happen to you. i’ve known jeno for a long time and he always believed that this type of stuff doesn’t happen to him either. i’m not on his side or anything, but i’m just saying, maybe staying wouldn’t be the worse thing y/n, you deserve love and to love… remember when i was sad about the stupidest thing and you still tried to send me a funny picture to cheer me up?’ you smiled at the memory, ‘no matter what you’ve been through, you still try to care, even if its just a little bit… maybe you should follow through with it and see where it could lead you.’ you looked down at your intertwined hands, and your vision blurred again with tears, ‘im just so scared jaemin,’ he nodded, ‘i just don’t want to get too attached to him, and then watch him leave me like everyone else.’ you admitted in a small voice, ‘i know, i know’ jeamin reassured you again, ‘but i know jeno, he follows through with his promises… you know,’ he scoffed and laughed at himself, ‘i was going to ask you to be my mate…’ you looked up at him in shock, your eyes meeting his soft brown ones, you retracted your hands from his, he waved his in front of you, not wanting to give you the wrong message, ‘but i couldnt, listen, i thought i had a crush on you, but you can’t be my mate, thats because jeno is.’ you groaned and hid your face again in your arms, forehead against the cool, metal table as you tried not to have a panic attack.
before you both could say anything, you noticed the cafe worker coming up to you, her read shoes now peeking in through your fingers, ‘um, miss? im sorry but haven’t ordered anything in almost an hour, if you aren’t going to get anything you need to leave.’ you lifted your head to look at her, she visibly cringed at the site, your hair was a mess and you had tears and snot everywhere, your eyes were probably bloodshot red and your sniffling nose matched the hue. jaemin stood up first, ‘we were just leaving’ he said sternly, grabbing your arm to get you to stand up and walk outside with him. the air was cold, you shivered, reminding you about the night you met the stranger who put you in the hospital, the fateful night when you would eventually meet jeno. You stayed close to jaemin, hyper aware of everything around you now, your ears picking up all kinds of sounds, your nose picking up all kinds of scents, some including jaemin, and you hated that you even tried to pick up jenos, but it wasn’t anywhere near you. you wondered if he was still looking for you, its been hours so he surely would’ve found you by now. you sighed in defeat, leaning your head against jaemins shoulders.
you watched him out of the corner of your eyes, getting out his phone and jumping slightly at the amount of missed calls from his own guardian, haechan. ‘hold on, i need to call him back. he called me like, so many times’ you moved away, giving him some personal space as he talked on the phone, the call lasted for a couple of minutes with jaemin mostly listening and only saying a couple words. He ended the call and sighed looking over at you, and you could tell what the call was about. you turned and walked away from him, trying again to get out of the situation, he grabbed you and pulled you by the hood of your hoodie, ‘not so fast rabbit!’ he pulled you closer, trying to get you to listen, ‘did anything i say earlier not mean anything? y/n, go back home. haechan told me that jeno is freaking out and… he might have called the cops to go out and find you…’ you sighed, not realizing the lengths jeno would go, ‘i would suggest we head there now, or you can arrive in the back of a cop car! your choice’ jaemin stated a matter of factly. ‘fuck. i hate that you’re right. kind of about everything.’ jaemin nodded, ‘i know it will be hard at first, but at least try and you’ll eventually get it, i promise.’ he gave you an encouraging smile and helped you get back home.
as you got closer and closer you could see the flashing lights from the two cop cars, you stopped on the broken side-walk which made the other rabbit stop too, ‘jaemin, i can’t go in there, this is so humiliating.’ you buried your face in your hands, face growing hot from the realization that you now have to face jeno and the cops of seoul, people who already didn’t like you that much because of your past job. jaemin grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the apartment building, ‘just ignore them, nothing will ever change with them so why does it matter?’ you groaned and let him do all the work, he stopped you from falling over when you were met with the familiar door to the tall building, ‘let me tell haechan to buzz us in.’ he stated as he typed furiously on his phone, the door was buzzed and opened within a matter of seconds, the elevator ride was silent as you grew more and more nervous to face the tall, dark haired man that you ran away from only hours before.
you both ignored the stares from the cops, the door to the apartment was open so jaemin just motioned for you to enter silently. you feared that everyone else could hear how loud your heart was beating, but probably only jaemin noticed. once you slipped inside, your eyes immediately landed on jeno at the kitchen table, biting his fingernail as he stared down at his phone, haechan nudged the older man causing him to look up at you standing in the doorway. he slowly rose from his seat, the legs scratching the floor making an ungodly sound as haechan walked past you and grabbed jaemin, and the front door closed, leaving just you and jeno. he walked to you slowly, trying not to scare you off again.
‘jeno…’ you started and looked down at your fidgeting hands, he gave you an eye smile that only existed on special occasions, despite leaving he was still happy to see you. ‘my bunny,’ he whispered and brought you in for a hug, you closed your eyes and finally embraced him back, giving him the silent confirmation that you wanted to stay, ‘i was so worried about you’ he murmured against your hair, and you could hear it perfectly. you took in his familiar scent, causing you to unknowingly rub your chin on his shoulder, in order to spread your scent on him. he didn’t seem to mind, only breaking away so you could finally talk to him, ‘you talk about cars even though i don't understand a thing, you love jelly candy, and you share your mint chocolate ice cream with me…’ his dark eyes stared back into yours, listening intently, ‘you hate math and you let me play your video games even though im really bad and i mess up your rankings, but you don’t care.’ he looked to the side and playfully remarked, ‘i only care a little bit’ you scoffed and played along, hitting his shoulder slightly as he laughed at your reaction.
the laughter died down and he continued to stare at you with such adoration and care, you thought about what jaemin said earlier, how he wasn’t your mate. jeno is. you shifted your weight from one foot to the other as jeno came closer again, gracing your cheek with his calloused hand. you could see the birthmark on his check much clearer, wanting to kiss it, instead you looked back into his eyes, through his dark bangs that tempted to cover them. he had almost the same idea as he brushed the hair from your face with his other hand, cupping your other cheek now. he leaned in and so did you, feeling less tense you melted into his touch, eventually your forehead was against his and you closed your eyes as you felt him hum. ‘my bunny…’ he was breathless and you were glad you were so close so jeno couldn’t see the major blushing that nickname had caused.
you left it alone, instead grabbing his cheeks in return, surprising him, you brought your nose up to his, and he smiled, remembering when jaemin explained what this gesture meant. you pulled away and giggled a little at how his blush now matched yours, ‘are you going to stay?’ he wanted to make sure this time, wanted to hear you say you wouldn’t leave, to promise him. ‘i thought about what you said earlier’ he nodded, ‘thank you for saving my life’. he beamed and leaned in, heart almost bursting out of his chest, you closed your eyes as he got closer, and eventually, your lips met his. your hands lightly cupping his face again while he moved his down to your waist to bring you closer. his lips were soft and he tasted like the strawberry chapstick he had bought you but kept using, it made you smile, only to make him smile in return. jeno backed up and looked at you, ‘thank you for saving mine.’
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