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beat-the-morning · 2 months ago

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🖤 Fumigation Journal || Hozier x Reader🖤

BOTH PARTS

READ ON TUMBLR UNDER CUT || READ ON AO3

Rating: 18+ || smut

Tags: oral sex, multiple orgasms, cum eating, cum swallowing, marsturbation interrupted, love confessions, fingering, face fucking, dry humping, marking, creampie (kinda), squirting, breakfast in bed

Summary: Andrew is staying at your apartment while his house gets fumigated, you come back from work one day only to find him with your dream journal in hand. What will happen next?

Word Count: 7k

A/N: This fic was co-written with oomf :) We both wrote both chapters— go give them some love!!

Their Wattpad

💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙

You gazed out your window, sleepy eyes reverently observing the sunrise. Your heart swelled— somehow, the sunrise always felt prettier when you had someone to love. Really, everything in life gets slathered in beauty

And, oh, how close your love was. He was staying in your shitty apartment instead of his big, old house. The one that had no air conditioning, that he needed to get renovated when he moved in to even be able to piss in the bathroom. It also frequently got infested with bugs. Andrew tried everything, but nothing really worked. Not bug traps, nor the exterminator, nor closing the gaps in the house.

So, currently the house was getting fumigated. Maybe these bugs realized how he was made for you. Maybe they were on your side— the ultimate matchmakers. You giggled into your pillow at the mere thought.

You got up and rolled out of bed. Work was in 30 minutes— it was probably best to suck it up and stop staring at the sky, like some sort of romantic. Even if you very well were. You stumbled out of your room, hair frizzy, face bare, eyes blurry.

Your sleepy legs made their way into the kitchen, every step a battle. You weren't paying attention, your mind was way better at thinking about your pretty best friend. In consequence, you bumped into the man himself. Face hitting his chest, you let out a tired groan. You looked up at him with weary eyes— one of his hands ended up on your shoulder, steadying you.

“Clumsy morning, huh?”

You cover your mouth, hiding a yawn. Andrew laughed, a warm, mellow, welcoming sound. Wanting him was your only absolute this early. Everything was blurry, you really didn't care about anything, you were tired, and your head hurt. But you wanted him, and you wanted him now.

“I made french toast.” He said, letting you go, interrupting your thinking.

You happily hummed, sitting down at the table as he set a plate in front of you, “Thank you, Andy”

“No problem. And I'm sorry for this being all so sudden. Thank you for taking me in. It… it really means a lot, you're a sweetheart. Truly.”

Your cheeks flushed, and it took you a few seconds to compose yourself before you dug into your pancakes.

Once you were done stuffing your face, you quickly got ready for your job. You organized books at the local library— and you sure as hell dressed the part. You decided on a patterned button down and black trousers- hell, your elderly neighbor dressed younger than you.

Work was boring as fuck, but at least it was Friday, so no more work for a couple days. You got through the day with one too many cups of coffee and at least one “smoke break”, which was really just a lap around the block to get away from work for a few minutes.

You didn't have the worst job ever—hell, the pay was the best you'd had. But it was tedious, and mind-numbingly boring. Especially when you had a man at home. Not your man, but rather the man you were given the curse of being “just friends” with.

You were utterly thrilled, yet exhausted at the end of the day, when you took the bus home and planned what movie you and Andy were to watch.

Your aching legs made their way up the stairs, your hand holding tightly onto the handrail, trying not to fall down the steps from how drowsy you were. The sweet promise of seeing your best friend filled you, though, and it did almost numb your pain.

You finally reached your floor, opening the door, heart warm and fuzzy, and your eyes befell a beautiful, but shocking sight.

Andrew lay there, on your cozy couch, in sweatpants and a white ribbed tank top. Even that was enough to stun you. His eyes were focused, glazed over, head tilted back. His hair was messy, tangled.

In one hand, he held a small, black journal- with striking similarity to your dream journal. You’d been using it for a few months now and had written every dream you’d had in it, while it had started out with innocent little fairytales, your dreams had become far less appropriate as of late. So the journal mostly was composed of dirty descriptions of intimacy- all with Andrew. This was the book that you mistakenly left open on your coffee table the night before. His other hand was under his sweatpants, gripping tightly, stroking his cock with wild abandon. He knew it was wrong, that he was invading your privacy, but god, was he weak for you.

“So fuckin’ hot…” He groans, the world around him fuzzy and blurred. “Please” he whimpered, bucking into his hand, a bit of drool leaking onto his chest, soaking the hair that peeked out from under that singlet.

You took it all in, and realized that you should not be watching this. You quickly shut the door, followed by a loud curse from Andy. You could feel your heart pounding in your ear. Fuck, were you wet. You were still in your work clothes, very much dressed like a librarian. But you couldn’t deny the wetness underneath it all, you felt your panties soaking more and more as the seconds passed by, you hated and loved what his simple yet perverted act was doing to you.

Behind the door, Andrew quickly put his conscious, ever twitching length away under those unintentionally slutty grey sweatpants. Or intentionally— you knew this man. Despite his very common bouts of disliking everything about himself, he knew how hot others saw him. And he wasn’t an idiot— he'd seen your reverent stares. He'd noticed how you always stayed wrapped in his arms just a second too long after hugs. He knew that you were attracted to him on some level. Maybe not the full extent, but he knew something was up.

How could he ruin this by wanking off to your private journal? Once his dick was put away, still twitching, leaking a bit in his pants, he ran his hand through his hair, hunched over, filled with guilt. Your moleskin-wrapped journal was abandoned on the floor. Man, did he fuck up.

You leaned into the door, your voice shaky— you were embarrassed, turned on, and terrified all at the same time.

“Andy… you decent?” you called out on the other side of the thin door, meek.

He looked up from his hands covering his flushed face, and responded a very pathetic, “Yea… Ehm, yeah, I am.” He shifted awkwardly, before his pretty hazel eyes fixed upon the floor. Shamed, and rightfully cockblocked.

You opened the door, slowly walking back into your apartment, your eyes focused on the floor, too embarrassed to look over at him. His breathing was shaky— he was scared to take even one step closer to you.

“I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t—“ he cut himself off, taking in a deep breath before speaking again. “I have no excuse, I really, really don’t. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I was.. you were gone, found yer book… and… and I thought you were working, and I'm so fucking sorry, Ang-” He cut himself off with a sob, one finger nervously twisting at a curl.

Angel, huh? The man was always such a sweet talker when he fucked up. Now you weren't even mad at him, how could you be? You wished you could have the image of him pleasuring himself burnt into your eyelids. But you snapped out of these filthy thoughts when he spoke again.

“I’ll just leave, I know you probably need to process this whole thing, but please don’t—“

“No- I mean, it’s…” You took a heavy breath in. Please keep going. You thought, but what slipped out was a little more civil;

“We all do it, yeah? So… so…” You took another heavy breath in, your tone changing to a softer one. “Don’t leave.”

His heart broke with your last words, how could he say no to you?

“No, no, I'm… really sorry, that journal was private. And… and it's not fair to you,” cue the chorus of sniffles, “It's none of my business, even if it's about-”

And when you thought your cheeks couldn't flush more. Your best friend was sobbing, and yet you couldn't help but notice the outline in those sweats. Long, hard, twitching, leaking onto the waistband. Oh, how you wish to swallow it whole.

You took a step closer to him, finally looking into his eyes, they were red and teary, begging for forgiveness. You hugged him, awkwardly, but you knew he didn’t care much about that. He just needed the embrace of another. He felt horrible—disrespectful, dirty, perverted. All he wanted to do was sink into this couch and die from pure sin.

But the closest he could do was sink into you. He was so disappointed in himself that he didn't really notice his face was between your breasts. Fine, he did notice, and it made him even harder. But it was a shameful boner— and he really did derive a lot of comfort from your embrace.

You gently stroked his hair, whispering the occasional ‘you're okay’. Did he notice how hard your nipples were? Did he feel your heart beating? Oh, you felt him. Obviously he was hunched over, in a way that you couldn't feel his cock, but you could feel his shaky hands holding onto you. You could feel the way he nuzzled his nose into your breast— and fuck, did it turn you on.

You moved to the couch, sitting down next to each other, you gently pulled his face from your chest, holding it tenderly in your hands. He looked so ashamed, yet aroused. He closed his eyes for a second, relishing in your touch and caresses, surprised that you even wanted him near you.

He sighed softly, eyes still closed, you placed a tender kiss on his forehead, your thumbs softly rubbing his cheeks in an attempt at comforting him.

When you pulled away slightly, he let out a little whine. He didn't mean to– he was ever so flustered. His cheeks under your fingers were hot, very hot. Like he'd never been kissed on the forehead by someone as pretty as you. You were sure he had, but it was cute to see him fumbling around like he hadn't.

“I really am sorry, I don't deserve this.. you being so damn sweet, when you should really just be yelling at me.. and in your own house, I'm such a-”

“For God's sake, could you shut up?” You blurted, your hand stilling in his hair.

He looked at you with big, wet eyes, almost like a kicked puppy, he looked like he was on the brink of tears. “But I-”

You saw those pretty shining eyes, and that blabbering soft mouth. And all you could think about was shutting him up yourself. You leaned in, the bow of your lips drawn against him in a slow, but nevertheless desperate affair. Andrew sobbed a little into the kiss, but held you close. He needed this, he needed you.

You were the first to slip your tongue into it, tasting his spit. He tasted like coffee and tears. Poor man, an insomniac and depressed. What he needs now is pussy. Plenty of it, to drown his sorrows in.

You kept devouring him, feeling his hands shaking throughout, yet incredibly needy. One hand landed on your thigh, and you fell into him, groaning needily.

God, he could feel the heat radiating from you. He pulled off your kiss-swollen lips and got at your neck, quickly finding the spot that drew you in. He spoke quietly, under your ear

“This good?” He whispered, eyes half lidded. He didn't even try to hide his boner, and you could feel his precum leaking out.

“Mhm..” you whispered reverently, moving his hand up your waist.

He fumbled while unbuttoning your shirt, quickly followed by your bra before he latched onto one of your breasts, needily sucking at your nipple while his hand played with the other one. You whimpered quietly, your hand immediately moving to his hair, fingers tangling in his brown curls. His lips moved to your other nipple, sucking it passionately while his hands travelled lower on your form, undoing your work pants after a bit of a struggle.

You tugged at his hair, leading him to where he was so obviously so very giddy to lap at. He looked up at you, heart eyes so pretty in the golden hour, but ever so feral. You met his gaze with a smile. He kissed a trail down to your clit as he inched both your panties and trousers down at the same time, moving down, licking a firm stripe up your warm pussy, then digging in, and eating you like a man starved.

And god, did he eat you out. Like he was made to. Eager and adoring, he worshipped you between your legs without even pulling away to breathe. His long tongue, soft lips, and nice big fingers— what else would he use them for? Yes, guitar playing, but he'd much prefer to play you instead.

His tongue worked at the lips of your pussy, nose dug into your clit, his stubble drawing giggles from you. It quickly became his safe space. He loved it. He'd always loved it, and he loved it even more now that it was you. His sweet muse.

And his favorite melody, out of all the love songs that he's heard, were your moans. A sweet crescendo, starting soft and shy, but loud enough for all your neighbors to hear by the time his fingers were inside you. You were his, all his. And everyone had to know that. They had to know that he was devouring your decadent body as it deserved to be.

His fingers curled into you, tickling the very spots that made you squirm and squeeze his face with your thighs. You returned his heart eyes before they rolled back.

You moaned so loudly, lewdly. A noise that you didn’t even know you could make. You felt a familiar knot in your belly, the feeling of it tightening only to suddenly snap overwhelming you.

“Fuck, you- Andrew, fucking- God!” You said, frustratingly riding the waves of pleasure running through you.

He looked up, eyes shining, still so very big and needy, but drowning in your orgasm, just as you were. He curled up next to you, catching your lips in a hungry kiss. When he pulled away for air, you smiled, in a way that you hoped he adored.

“You taste like pussy, Andy” You teased with a little giggle.

“Mm… Wonder who’s fault that is, angel.”

You giggled, kissing him again. His hands grabbed your waist and moved you so you were straddling his thigh, you ground against it, unknowingly rubbing his cock while doing so. One of your hands travelled lower towards his sweatpants, slipping under the waistband and wrapping your fingers around his cock. Slowly, you stroked it, the tip of it red and glistening with precum, poking out under his clothes. Your other hand pulled his top off, consumed with the need to feel his skin against yours.

He moaned softly into the kiss, pulling your hips firmly onto his thigh and making you hump it, you moaned in return, and he deepened the kiss. It wasn’t long until you felt him twitching in your hand, his hips buckling towards you ever so slightly, you were going to stop, you wanted him in your mouth before he could finish, but you were too late. He came on your hand and on his abdomen not long after, a thick pearly coating on his slight pudge. You broke the kiss, looking down at his lap and pulling your hand up to your mouth.

He looked into your eyes, and you returned it, almost asking for permission, to which he gave you a small nod and a smile. Your eyes focused back on your hand, still covered with his seed, and you licked it off, quiet, soft moans escaping you as you swallowed his delicious sin.

“Baby, look at me,” he commanded softly, his grip in your thighs tightening. You looked at him, his eyes full of love and lust. “Good girl, now look here,” he pointed at the mess of cum on his abdomen. “Look at what you did.”

“Sorry.” You said with feigned innocence, looking at him with puppy eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, my sweet angel.” He cooed in a patronizing tone, knowing you were putting on an act. “Just clean it up for me, yeah? Be good and clean up your mess.”

You nodded, sliding off his lap and onto your knees on the floor. You leaned in close to his tummy, his dick still hard even after his climax. He grabbed you by your hair, pulling you even closer, then, you started licking him clean, his happy trail tickling your tongue in the best way possible. You swallowed him, over and over again while he moaned softly. You slowly started to run your tongue over his cock, looking up at him with your sweet bedroom eyes. He gasped. He adored having someone suck him off after he's already come. It made him see stars, truly.

“Mmmm… you like this, sweetness? You enjoy cleaning me up after you made such a mess of me?” He cooed again, hands brushing through your hair.

You nodded the best you could while his dick was stuffing your mouth up. God, his sweet whimpers and words of encouragement. They really could kill you.

You swallowed him deeper, closing your eyes, trying your best not to gag. You ended up getting a little carried away, your nose pressed hard into his pubic bone, like a puzzle piece. There was a bulge in your throat. You decided to try something out and stroked it from the outside, looking to see if it did anything for him.

And God, did it do something. He let out a noise you thought was impossible. He was there, on the couch, legs spread, back arched as you were on your knees, sucking from the tap. He pulled your hair tighter- probably not intentionally so hard, but it's not like it didn't turn you on.

You kept at it, closing your eyes, drowning in those growls and whimpers. You'd think he was some sort of slut.

He gasped, and starting fucking into your throat, pretty eyes rolling back, legs shaking. After another few languid strokes, he came down your throat, basking in the way you enjoyed this, just as much as he did.

“Good girl, fuck.. your throat, fuck,. Jesus fucking Christ, angel… so tight, Mmm—!” He babbled mindlessly as you pleasured him. God, he adored you.

Adored you so much that he came down your throat. You choked on it a little, pulling back and clearing your throat. You smiled sweetly up at him, cum dripping down your chin, then kissed the tip of his cock, warranting another little burst of cum to shoot at your face.

“Such a messy eater…” He teased lovingly.

You were in the middle of a reply when he stuffed his cock into your mouth again, holding you there.

“Shhh, princess. Nobody's ever taught you to not speak with your mouth full?” There was a smile on his face. God, was he a vision… Cheeks flushed, hair the messiest you've seen it, hands shaking, stray drops of cum on his pale skin. You started to bob your head, but he stopped you.

“Two rounds of sucking me off in a row? I'm sure you get tired. So tired. How about I just do it for you… keep your mouth around me, and I'll take care of the rest. Is that okay with you, angel?”

You gave him those puppy eyes, humming happily as a way to say “yes”.

“Mmmhm? Okay, then..”

He started to fuck into you, a little bit sloppily, his hips bucking. He was feral, truly. He moved quickly, hyperventilating, a third orgasm threatening to happen at any time. He moved faster, fucking your mouth with a surprising amount of strength for a man that had already come twice.

But it became too much, and you had to pull away to take a breath, warranting a surprisingly bratty whimper for a man acting so dominant.

“Wha- Wha- FUCK,” He belted, shooting cum onto the floor, right onto your moleskin notebook, it wasn’t much, just what was left inside of him after the last two orgasms. Your hand was still wiping your chin, and your mouth fell open.

“Jesus, sorry, I didn't know-”

“I didn't either,” he said, irrationally upset. It took him a bit to calm down. He caught his breath as he leaned back on the couch. You got up and sat next to him, gazing up into his brimmed eyes.

“Andy, you know I wanted to swallow, I really did. I want it…”

He looked back down at you, gaze softening. He leaned to your level, grabbing your chin and opening your mouth, then, moved his head on top of yours and slowly let his spit flow from his lips and onto your tongue. You smiled, a little naughtily, and swallowed. God, that was hot.

“Mmmh.” You hummed.

“That's something to swallow, isn't it?”

He leaned in and kissed your tired lips tenderly, as you tangled into him, ending up a cuddling, naked mess on your—now, filthy couch.

He moved you to lay on his chest while he played idly with your hair, his nose buried in it as well, taking in your scent in the quiet evening. His other hand traced patterns on your back, his fingers dancing carefully over your skin, almost fearing you’d shatter like a porcelain doll just from his touch.

His lips pressed onto your forehead, giving you a soft, affectionate kiss that took your breath away for a second. You looked up at him from his chest, your eyes wide and adoring. “Hi,” he murmured softly, not really thinking about what he was saying.

“Hi,” you responded, making the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“This doesn’t feel real.” He whispered softly, still caressing you with all the love in the world.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“I never thought I’d actually get to hold you like this, to have been with you like we have.” He elaborated. “This was always more of a fantasy, I didn’t think it’d be real.”

“What, you thought I didn’t like you like that?” You asked, a bit incredulous.

“I knew you thought I was hot, I’m not stupid, I see how you look at me.” He sighed again, his arms tightening around you, his gaze avoiding yours. “But the… ehm, the extent of just how much you liked me was more than I thought it’d be.”

You smiled softly, your hand playing with his chest hair as you listened to him. His voice was like a melody in and of itself, every word he said a note in the symphony of your dreams.

“It’s just…” He continued, his tone even softer. “It’s like there’s steps to all this, you know? There’s finding someone attractive, then there’s wanting to- ehm, have sex with them, and then there’s just wanting to be with them, in every way possible…” He trailed off.

“Andy. What are you trying to say?” You asked, his eyes immediately focusing on yours the moment you finished your sentence.

“That I love you, angel, I have for a long time.” He finally confessed. You felt his heart speed up in his chest, he was so incredibly nervous.

“I love you, too.” You timidly whispered, then placed a quick, loving kiss on his chest. “You can calm down now, your heart is beating way too fast.” You added teasingly.

“Maybe a proper kiss will calm me down.” He teased back.

You moved carefully, crawling up to his eye level and kissing him deeply. He kissed back almost immediately, your mouths moving in tandem to make the perfect kiss. Andrew pulled back after a few seconds, his mind too crowded with thoughts to fully lose himself in you no matter how much he wanted to do just that.

“Let me take you out on a date, somewhere nice,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb. His voice little more than a lovesick whisper. “If not, at least let me call you mine.”

“Yes, to both.” You smiled, nuzzling your face into his hand.

“Good,” he kissed your forehead. “Sorry to change the topic like this, but I’m exhausted, wanna go to bed?”

You chuckled softly at the change of subject. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.” You argued lovingly.

“I had my fill with you already.”

“Then I guess we can go to bed, but I have to shower first.” You stood up from your cuddling position on the couch, watching Andrew follow suit not long after. “Maybe put a movie on my laptop and we can watch it afterwards?”

You looked up at him with begging eyes while holding his hand in yours, he smiled, he couldn’t say no to you, especially now.

“As you wish, princess.” He took your hand to his lips and kissed it playfully, a small giggle escaping you both. “Any movie in particular you desire to watch, your majesty?”

“Okay, cut it out,” you continued to giggle, “just choose one you like, yeah? I’m gonna shower.”

With that, you went to your bathroom to clean yourself up while Andrew went to your room and set everything up, including cleaning himself as best he could and fixing his messy, post-orgasmic appearance.

You came back from the shower after almost an hour, hair still wet, in comfy sweatpants and a tank top. You made your way to your room, waiting to see your angel. He sat there, in bed, scrolling on his phone, hair up in a messy bun. He looked nothing short of adorable— cleaned up nicely too.

Your laptop was next to him. It seems he'd already chosen a movie, Legally Blonde, for some reason. You sank next to him, leaning against his shoulder.

“You like chick flicks?” You asked, with a giggled cadence.

“Nothing short of modern masterpieces, they are.” He replied, starting the movie and letting your body adjust against him. You clicked, your arms the perfect length around his waist, your lips the perfect curve against his, your nose perfectly nesting into his pulse.

You fell asleep first. Fast asleep- not stirring in the slightest. He thought your slight snores and weird murmurs were adorable. He'd much rather fall asleep to those than any movie. He closed the laptop and set it on your bedside table, his long arms holding you tight into the late hours.

He ended up having the best sleep in a while— no thoughts of upcoming concerts or snobby dinners to torment him. You somehow made it all stop. In his busy world, you were his only constant. Something he wanted to hold close to and never let go.

——

Andrew adored your face. He saw it everywhere- the pure beauty of it. He saw your beauty in the Irish hillsides. He heard your voice in every old timey love song. Everywhere, everything, it was always you.

In the early morning, he found himself gazing at you again, a long finger tracing your cheek. He sighed contentedly, completely enamored with you. His limbs tangled further into yours. This went on for about half an hour— his sweet touches and comforting, soft kisses.

Your eyes fluttered open. Your first view of the day was Andrew cupping your cheeks, his head tilted. You smiled dorkily at him, your view still unfocused.

“Morning, sleepin’ beauty” He greeted in that soothing Irish lilt of his. You responded with a groan— giving him the opportunity to scoop you up in his arms, holding you to his chest. You giggled into the firm, warm body.

“Hey!” You grogged. He pulled you even further up, paving a path of smooches along your face, whispering sweet nothings.

“So pretty when you wake up, you know that? Sweet, sweet angel… and you're all mine…” he was getting lost in you, reciting all his best praise while you were barely away from the sandman.

It took a while for you to properly wake up. When the consciousness came, you returned his kisses sloppily, hand coming up to tangle in that messy brown hair.

The kisses got more desperate and messy as you went, desperate to taste each other, to catch up on everything you've missed. You grew a little dominant— even a little frustrated. You rolled him over, warranting a whimper, then pulled away, laying on your side next to him.

“You're so needy in the mornings.”

“Huh?” He whispered hoarsely, looking up at you with half lidded eyes.

“I said you're needy in the mornings. All kisses and sweet words…”

You got onto him, warranting a little ‘oomph’ to squeeze out. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, holding you steadily, groaning as your thigh brushed against him.

You put your thumb in his mouth, slowly grinding and watching as he sucked it at the same pace. The little pacifier kept him quiet, even when you were ruthlessly rutting into his growing hardness.

He looked up at you with shiny eyes before his head tilted to the side, giving you a full view of his beautiful, biteable neck.

You stop grinding for a second. You ached to keep staring into those lovely breaking eyes, “Andy, look up.”

He obediently gazed up at you through thick lashes, mouth biting your thumb a little. You kept going, watching as he tried not to lose his locked stare. His hand moved to your wrist, trying to pull to take your thumb out of his mouth, you shushed him in return, pushing it in a little deeper.

“Keep it in,” you ordered softly, starting to grind on his crotch once more. He listened, lightly biting your thumb to suppress his moans. “That’s it, good boy.” You added in a sultry whisper.

Andrew’s eyes shot open, you felt his dick harden almost immediately, the size poking at you through the layers of clothing. He pulled your thumb out of his mouth, his eyes dark with lust. His hands moved to your waist and threw you onto the bed, making you whimper.

You looked up at him as he moved on top of you, caging you into the mattress with his long arms. He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head with just one hand, then pushed his knee between your legs, smiling devilishly at you.

“Grind.” He ordered, his voice stern yet undeniably full of love for you. His thumb found your clit, tracing obnoxiously slow circles over it.

You obediently rubbed against his knee, the dual stimulation of his finger and your actions making your back mold into an arch. You struggled playfully against his grip, moaning softly as your hips moved.

You kept grinding, eventually losing yourself and collapsing onto him. “Awww, that's not all you have in you, is it, baby?” He teased, his grin widening.

“C’mere, let me treat you.” He spoke in a lowered octave, gently nudging you over, as if asking for permission to take you.

You let him guide you over, your eyes hungry, legs wrapping around his waist. He firmly kissed down the side of your face, sinking down to your clavicle, and getting to work, sucking at it for a good few minutes- summoning giggles that quickly turned to moans of pure desperation. When he finally pulled away, what was left of all the sucking and biting was a reddish purple mark that he blew on, the air sending a shiver down your spine.

“Was that okay, darling? I’m sure you have some turtlenecks you can wear for a couple days if you need them.” He continued to kiss down your body, his voice even more rough. “Though I’d rather you didn’t, the idea of you going out with my mark on display is so fucking hot.”

“I work at a library, I can’t just have hickeys on displa— FUCK!” Andrew sucked on your chest, intending to leave another mark while his hand had traveled down to your core again, only to insert two fingers inside you this time, thrusting away any words left in you.

He smiled as he pulled away again, blowing softly on the second mark he’d left, his eyes already scanning your body in search of a spot for the third and fourth ones, all while never stopping his fingers inside you.

His mouth found your tummy just as his thumb found your clit, you moaned loudly, trying to thrust into his fingers but getting stopped by the rest of him on his quest to mark you fully. Not like you’d complain though, you’d be lying if you said the thought of being marked by him all over didn’t turn you on.

The pattern repeated as he went lower, marking your abdomen a few more times while his fingers worked on you, getting you closer to your climax. He sucked on your inner thigh, leaving his last mark on you before replacing his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking on it while he fingered you still. You screamed from pleasure, your hands gripping the bed sheets as you felt your orgasm washing down on you in intense waves of ecstasy. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and your moans turned into whines, he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, almost making out with your clit before sitting back on his heels.

He put his soaked fingers up to your mouth, you welcomed them, sucking off your essence and making Andrew smile. He took one of your legs and put your ankle over his shoulder, straddling your other one in a way that made his cock perfectly align with your entrance. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, trailing them down in a path that connected all your hickeys and continued down your belly, pressing down on the weak spot right under your belly button.

You giggled, batting your lashes up at him. Truly, you wanted him to fuck you until your guts split, and the best way to get that would be to put on the innocent act— one that you had quickly learned was his favourite. Even if he knew it was little more than that.

He rubbed the tip of his cock over your soaked folds, watching as you tried to keep the little act up. And it was hard, when he was there, with his chest hair and stupid smirking pretty face. When his hair was in a side part, tossing every time he made a sudden move.

He pinned you down with his lean arms. He squeezed into you, feeling your pussy envelope him, squeezing around his cock in just the right way. He didn’t take the time to ease you in, quickly building the pace up, gritting his teeth. He fucked the woman he loved the most in the most feral way possible.

You loved this side of him, your body instinctively moving your legs to where he perfectly hit your g-spot with each needy thrust. You abruptly came after a few of these- making that your second orgasm.

But he kept going, and you kept laying there and looking so utterly fuckable. Legs spread, tits bouncing, eyes rolling back every time he hit your sweet spot.

“God, you're such a pretty thing. Wish I could just stay inside you all day, keeping me warm…”

He kept going. At this point, your eyes couldn't even keep open. Your nails dug into his back as he leaned closer to you, little half-crescents engraving into his pale skin. He was close to you now, chest sweat dripping onto your face. You could feel his hot breath and hear his beautiful moans, and feel the spit dripping out of his growling mouth.

You yelped as a strange sensation took you, snapping him out of it. You whined and wrapped your leg, that had now fallen off his shoulder, around his hips, practically begging for him to continue his thrusts. You didn't even notice at first— it was him who pulled out. He felt your squirt soak his dick, biting his lip, slapping his dick lightly to try and drain you as you squirted all over him.

“Jesus… You just do that, love?” He whispered lowly, dripping in shock— still incredibly turned on.

“No! I… I didn’t know I could…” You said softly, still trying to catch your breath.

He laughed and leaned in, kissing your cheek, “Well, I'm glad to be the one to help you find out, Mmm?”

He was silent for a few beats, then placed his hand tenderly on your cheek, “Are you okay? Can I keep going?”

“Please put it back in…” You begged.

He smiled. “As you wish, my love.”

He did exactly that, pushing back into you, getting lost in your body once more. Sweet moans escaping him as he chased his own release.

He felt his balls growing tighter, moaning in almost your key, his hot seed bursting into you. He gave you a big dorky smile, still slowly fucking in and out as his cock started to soften.

Andrew leaned in and kissed your face all over, still buried inside you, feeling your warmth around him, and, slowly, coming back to earth from the heaven that you’d taken him to. Your arms enveloped him lovingly, he melted in your gentle touch, his heart swelling with love for you. His eyes widened in a split second, realisation setting in.

“Shit, baby, I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t- christ.” He mumbled apologetically, caressing your face, “I’ll make it up to you, I swear, I didn’t mean to, angel.”

You looked at him, slightly confused as to why he was apologising so much.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, slowly getting your strength back.

“I didn’t put a condom on, I’m sorry, I completely forgot, I’ll go to the store and get you the pill.” He apologised again, his voice threatening to break from the nerves.

“Andy, hey, calm down,” you smiled, caressing his face with one of your hands. “It’s fine, I’m on birth control, stop worrying.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at you with loving eyes. “Thank God,” he chuckled, kissing your lips for a split second, “still, I’m sorry, I should’ve put one on anyway when I didn’t know if you were on birth control or not.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, taking the moment to finally pull out of you, swallowing your soft whines as he did. His cum flowed out of you, the sight of it making Andrew smile darkly. He went to your bathroom and came back with a washcloth, gently cleaning you up.

“The bed’s wet, love, want me to carry you to mine?” He asked, caressing your cheek with all the tenderness in the world.

You nodded in response, then felt his arms wrap around you and carry you to the guest bedroom he’d been staying in. He laid you on the mattress, you yawned, your legs exhausted. You had to admit, you always got so sleepy after sex. Your exes hated it— but Andrew found it so endearing. He gently tucked you in, kissing your sweat-slick forehead.

“You’re so beautiful, angel. Be a good girl and get some good rest for me. You deserve it.” You reached for him with grabby hands as he threw boxers and a big knit sweater on. He smiled at the sight. “I’ll be back, okay? I just have… something to do. Go to sleep for me. Please, angel.”

So, you— being the sweet, obedient angel that you were, fell asleep after just a few seconds. He got up and washed his messy hands, then got to work on your breakfast. He decided on pancakes. Which he was able to make into somewhat perfect hearts.

He put the pancakes, along with fresh berries, on a platter and brought them in after an hour and a half or so.

He placed them on the bedside table, then gently shook you awake.

“Wake up, love, I made breakfast.” He greeted, like he wasn't deep inside you two hours ago.

You looked up at him with a hazy stare, “You can cook?” You mumbled, looking at the plate.

“Of course I can cook. What other way could I have charmed girls?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, sitting up and placing the heated platter on your lap, “No idea.”

He sat next to you, snacking on some of your berries, watching as you ate. He was possibly the biggest loverboy in the world, obsessed with everything you did.

“What?” You ask, noticing his constant puppylike stare

“I don't want to go back to my house. I want to be like this. For as long as you'll have me.”

God, was he an angel. He really thought you'd grow tired of him?

“Then I think you'll be living in this shitty apartment forever, Andrew.”

“Forever?”

“Or until it finally falls apart and the building collapses on our heads, whatever happens first.” You giggled.

“In that case we could move to mine, then.” He suggested, smiling lovingly. “After the bug problem gets fixed, that is.”

“Be nice to the bugs, technically they’re the ones that brought us together.” You teased, kissing him gently.

“I’ll tell the exterminator to be gentle when killing them.” He teased back, returning the kiss passionately.

#hozier fanfiction #hozier fic #hozier #hozier smut #hozier x reader #mornfic #andrew hozier byrne #hozier rpf

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luvnoirs · 1 year ago

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caught

paring: paige x fem!reader synopsis: reader walks in on kk and paige during a tiktok live and accidentally exposes their relationship warning(s): none ! (sfw) word count: 742

a/n: shoutout to oomf for giving me this idea lmao

"hey guys. where's p?" you question after you opened the front door to one of the team's shared apartment.

you had first stopped by your girlfriend's shared apartment which was next door, only to find out that she wasn't there. confused, you had sent her a text that had gone unanswered for ten minutes. so then you decided to go next door to see if her other teammates knew where the hell she was.

you were first met with amari as she held a jar of pickles, half of a pickle being chewed in her mouth while she held the remaining half in her hand. aubrey sat on the couch cheering on aaliyah as she wildly danced in front of the tv playing just dance 4.

amari was the only one who actually noticed your presence and she nodded towards the back of the apartment where the rooms were located since her mouth was still busy chewing on the salty pickle.

you thanked her as you made your way out of the common area and into the hallway. you could already hear loud chatter accompanied with the sound of music playing. you instantly knew one of the voices belonged to kk, so you decided to open it because paige was known to keep kk by her side most times.

your assumption was proven right once you finally opened the door and laid your eyes on kk and paige goofing off in front of an iphone camera. their backs were faced towards you while ice laid on the bed playing fortnite so she noticed you first. yet, her eyes widened a bit before they quickly cut towards kk and paige's direction. but before ice could say anything you had beat her to it.

"babe, seriously?"

kk paused her dancing while her and paige both turned around to the sound of my annoyed voice.

you watched confusedly as kk let out an 'oh shit!", scrambling to grab her phone and tap the screen quickly. before you could question it, paige was walking towards you with a surprised expression.

"y/n?" paige questioned. "i thought you said you couldn't come over tonight?"

you smacked your teeth and shook your head at her. "i texted you saying nevermind. then, i showed up to your dorm but you weren't there and when i texted you again you never responded. where is your phone?"

"it died so i had it on the charger while kk and i went live…" paige scratched her head, glancing back at kk who was now sitting on ice's bed biting the inside of her cheek.

"oh shit, you were live? i thought you were making one of those stupid tiktok videos-- ice! why didn't you tell me?" you whacked the side of her leg as she yelled out dramatically.

you and paige haven't exactly made your relationship public yet and you literally avoided the girl as if she was the plague whenever one of the girls went live. it was honestly all your decision for it to be this way because you didn't want the media to focus on who paige was dating rather than her actual talent and love for her community. you also knew how many fans she had and you could only imagine what they would say about you if they had found out that you were dating the paige bueckers.

"hey, i tried to warn them!" ice defended herself, still trying to concentrate on her game.

"they probably screen recorded the live, too" kk added, looking back and forth between you and unbothered paige.

you groaned as paige wrapped her arms around you, resting her cheek on top of your head. "nah it's fine… you weren't in the camera anyway so they can speculate all they want about it."

laughing, you hugged her back. she had practice earlier tonight so she smelled like fresh clean clothes and the lavender soap she uses. you inhaled and relaxed against her body. "your fans aren't dumb, paige…"

paige pulled back a bit to look at your face. "i don't care. i'm tired of hiding you-"

"um, not to be rude, but can y'all do this lovey-dovey shit somewhere else…" kk feigned disgust and held her stomach as if she was sick.

paige rolled her eyes and you let out another laugh. you said goodbye to her two teammates as your girlfriend grabbed you by the hand and walked you out of the room.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #kk arnold #ice brady #amari deberry #aaliyah edwards #aubrey griffin

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reiniesainyo · 1 year ago

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IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 02

02 | WELCOME TO NY previous | next | masterfile

SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)

A/N. wow actual content who knew! i give some tidbits about rina and lukes dynamic as well for funsies (takes place at the start of the season premiere to probably episode 4-5 ish)

liked by iamcharliebushnell, walker.scobell, and 322,778 others thelnarchive best people to star in my first show with actually

walker.scobell pov: you at the end of this sentence 🤓👆 ↳ thelnarchive that** ↳ leahsavajeffries destroyed him with one word that's insane

user1 she's so gorgeous it's killing me

user2 her photo dumps are so cute it's so RAHHHHH ↳ user3 thank you yn for keeping us fed

iamcharliebushnell no photo creds? thats crazy...... ↳ thelnarchive 📸: charlie bushnell ↳ iamcharliebushnell thank you 😁

user4 she's so pretty, i would go to hell and back for her. she could be sent to the underworld and i would go and traverse the entire underworld for her and bring her back, have hades let me walk out with her only if i don't turn my back and bet you baby i'm no orpheus because you're coming home ↳ user5 this is so real but also what the fuck

dior.n.goodjohn PRETTIEST IN CAMP HALFBLOOD ↳ thelnarchive NO YOU!

iamcharliebushnell for everyone's information, she yapped for like the 2 hour makeup and hair session ↳ thelnarchive you weren't interested in the cultural impact of feminist retellings of mythology? 😔 ↳ iamcharliebushnell i didn't say i didn't listen to every bit

user6 yn ln being a yapper and charlie being a listener was not in my 2024 bingo card but it is pleasantly accepted ↳ user7 the chemistry is kind of crazy

bellie 💋 @G1LLMOREGRLS theres like less than 3 minutes of luke and rina screen time but the way they look at each other is insane. ik luke visiting rina before leaving was implied and like them him contacting her even after the attempt too i still want to see some because the potential angst is so insane 🗨 19 comments 🔁 129 retweets ❤️ 707 likes

user1 "i lost luke three times in my life." if they remove this it better be for something even more heartbreaking

user2 honestly truth i'm manifesting so hard to see some of their iris messages like i can just imagine it ↳ G1LLMOREGRLS oh my fucking god that's so true, i want to see luke begging her to come with him and then her begging him to change his mind

user3 i want the new seasons to come sooner because i trust in rick's capability to give us what we want 💳💳💳 ↳ user4 i trust in the editor's to make what rick gives us even better brah ↳ user5 what if i said lascotellan to a hozier song

user6 the show ate with levitating as the replacement for poker face in e6 so i'm expecting a tragic song for their scenes too ↳ G1LLMOREGRLS dare i say we get a scene of luke regretting his actions juxtaposed with a scene of him and rina arguing with her telling him to silver springs by fleetwood mac ↳ user6 LUKE AND RINA ARGUING OVER HIS ACTIONS TO SILVER SPRINGS. YOU'RE A FUCKING GENIUS OOMF ↳ G1LLMOREGRLS luke thinking about her constantly when he thinks abt why he shouldn't have done it is so "you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you"????

user7 YOU'RE SO CORRECT FOR THIS ‼️‼️ i'm so insane over them, tragic greek couple of the century

user8 i fear no one will ever beat rina saying she wanted to go to the underworld to get him back but deciding not to and letting him repent in elysium or try for reincarnation

liked by thelnarchives, dior.n.goodjohn, and 350,232 others iamcharliebushnell hanging out with the muse

thelnarchives you call me "the muse" so often i'm starting to think you don't know my first name anymore.... 🤨🤨🤨 ↳ iamcharliebushnell 😔 i would never do that to you muse ↳ thelnarchives i'm gonna start calling you traitor. ↳ user1 wat why would she call him traitor ↳ user2 oh you sweet summer child

user3 picture 3 is so cute i love her so much !!! and charlie's there too i guess

dior.n.goodjohn why are you hanging out with MY girlfriend ↳ iamcharliebushnell you snooze you lose :/

walker.scobell you owe me like 2 meals from our past bets and you keep saying your busy but obviously you're not??? ↳ iamcharliebushnell hanging out with the muse is a trip priority, man 🤷

user4 i'm obsessed with how charlie calls her muse they're so i want to Bite them. ↳ user5 he ate with the pet name

user6 that's actually me in the second photo guys

user7 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT HER HAND PLACEMENT IN THE THIRD PHOTO??? ↳ user8 girlie's just scratching her own cat

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crosshairlovebot · 2 months ago

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with love comes tender understanding / hunter x gn!reader

pairing: hunter x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has endearments.

description: after being denied further training, you're upset and angry, but hunter knows exactly how to soothe your worries.

word count: 1,993

warnings: feelings of inadequacy. but otherwise, it's soft hunter at his softest.

what? a surprise soft hunter fic? more likely than you think! had a discussion about hunter soothing anger with a twt oomf and was compelled to write this. enjoy!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.

You let out a frustrated sound from your throat before you kicked the side of the Marauder’s holoprojector. The loud metal clang filled the cockpit, and you were thankful all members of Clone Force 99, including Echo, were out collecting supplies so you could express your anger and disappointment in peace.

You looked back at the hologram message that spelled out in large letters DENIED in a bold script like it was intentionally mocking you. You felt your eyes fill with tears as you turned away from the hologram. You don’t know why you even allowed yourself to get your hopes up that you would be accepted into the GAR’s Advanced Field Training Program. You thought your skills were quite good considering you’d been with Clone Force 99 for almost an entire cycle, but the reasons listed in the rejection holo were such bantha fodder it enraged you.

How could they say further training was ‘unnecessary’ and to apply again at another time? You were in the middle of a war alongside some of the most elite soldiers in the GAR. What about that meant extra training was unnecessary? Shouldn’t they want you as capable as you could possibly be? How could they deem any request for further training unnecessary when you felt you could barely keep up with the boys? It’s like they were setting you up to fail.

You let out another frustrated sob as you slammed the button to shut off the holo with your fist and started to leave the cockpit. You needed to sulk on the gunner’s mount for a while until the rejection didn’t sting so much.

You didn’t hear his footsteps until it was too late, and Hunter was in the doorway at the top of the gangplank. You watched his face register your angry tears before quickly looking away, hoping to dodge his questioning by continuing in the aft direction.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Hunter stepped into your path and placed his hands on your shoulders, angling his face to look at your eyes that still avoided him. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

You sniffled and wiped away the stray tears on your cheeks. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Hunter said softly, and you sniffled again before he cocked his head. “Come on.”

Hunter put an arm on your shoulder and gently guided you out of the Marauder and into the fresh forest air of the planet you were on. You stomped alongside him, his hand and the small of your back as you walked further towards the treeline.

“Talk to me,” Hunter said when you were under the shade of tall trees some distance from the ship.

“What are you doing back so early anyway?” you asked, crossing your arms, still avoiding his gaze. There was something embarrassing about looking at him with tear-stained eyes and cheeks. Hunter always remained strong no matter what adversity he faced. He was always cool, calm and collected. Never wavering. But the façade of your strength had broken, and he was witnessing it. It was mortifying.

“You’re supposed to be with the others,” you continued.

“I was. But I got an alert from GAR command so I thought it might be important, seeing as though they never contact us first,” he explained.

You suppressed a loud groan. The alert was your rejection letter. You hadn’t realised his comm had been synced up with the ship’s systems. It wouldn’t hit you until a little later that Hunter had prioritised you over what he thought was an important message from GAR command. He was continuously amazing.

“But you still haven’t answered my question,” Hunter said gently, stepping towards you. After a beat of silence, he said with a hint of amusement in his voice, “You gonna look at me?”

You sighed and flicked your eyes to him. Hunter was a very handsome man, anyone with eyes could see that, but there was something devastatingly beautiful about how he looked right now. Stood with his hands on his hips in his armour, the speckled sunlight from the trees lit up his face, shining in the grey-brown of his eyes and across the tattoo of his face. The corner of his mouth was turned up slightly as you met his gaze, the warmth and familiarity of it made your heart squeeze.

You really did love him. And you could hardly believe he loved you too.

“It’s nothing,” you assured him, not wanting to bother him further when he already had so much on his mind with the upcoming mission. “I just got frustrated.”

“Uh-huh,” Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Wanna tell me what about?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you shook your head.

Hunter said your name and placed his hands on your arms, drawing you closer. “I know this is still…new, for us both. But you can tell me anything.”

You’d only been together for a couple of months; despite the length of time you’d been with The Bad Batch. You’d steadily found yourself falling for the sergeant, with his rough voice which almost never angered even when he was thrown curveballs that definitely warranted it, his capable hands and ability to lead and look out for his squad with care, you could hardly be blamed for it. You’d never expected that he would ever return your feelings. But sitting at a campfire sipping spotchka late into the night after a particularly tough mission where you’d almost not come out alive had spurred the revelation of your feelings to one another. And the two months that followed had been a bliss of shared bunks, stolen kisses, secret handholding, and sneaking away whenever you could.

You loved it. You loved him.

You sighed and put your forehead on his chest. How could you tell him, the ever-proficient sergeant of an elite squad with an unbroken winning streak, you’d been denied further training? It was humiliating. Hunter raised a hand to your hair and gently smoothed the back of your head. The gesture was so soft you almost started crying again.

“It’s stupid,” you muffled into his armour.

Hunter took your face in his hands and lifted it from his chest. “Cyare…how can it be stupid when it’s upset you?”

When he smiled reassuringly at you, thumbs softly drawing across your cheekbones, catching stray tears, you melted.

“I applied for the GAR’s Advanced Field Training Program,” you told him. “That was the alert you got.”

Hunter’s brow creased. “I didn’t know you applied for further training.”

You shook your head. “Because I didn’t tell you.”

“When did you apply?” he asked.

You swallowed. “After that mission.”

You didn’t need to say anything more than that. You both knew which one. Whilst it had brought you too together, it almost had fatal consequences for the squad. You’d barely made it out of there, and you’d all had to spend several hours patching each other up, applying bacta, and then using spotchka to sterilise the wounds when you’d run out. You’d taken some of the worst hits you’d ever experienced, and you remembered trying to run after the boys as droids closed in on your exit from the facility, information in tow. You remembered vividly falling behind, your legs not fast enough, reflexes slower. You’d tripped over debris, falling and spraining your wrist and ankle, Hunter had to fall back and pick you up, dodging blaster fire as he carried you back to the ship. You’d felt helpless; like you’d let everyone down.

It's what spurred you to apply for further training, so it wouldn’t happen again.

Hunter took in a breath, his expression becoming understanding as his hands that still held your face stroked down your neck. “I see.”

You swallowed before forcing the words out, irritation flaring up in you again as you recalled those bold red letters. “They rejected my application on account of it being ‘unnecessary’.” You scoffed. “I told you it was stupid.”

Hunter nodded carefully before running the backs of his fingers across your tear-stained cheeks, gently wiping the remains of streams away. “I’m sorry. They should’ve accepted you.”

You felt your chest expand. You hadn’t realised how much you needed to hear that; that you deserved to be accepted into the program; that their decision to reject you was as ridiculous as you thought, and that you weren’t overreacting. You gave him a tight-lipped smile and leaned into his hand that cupped your face. “Thanks, Hunter.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you applied?” Hunter asked earnestly.

You shrugged. There wasn’t really a proper reason, hearing his response now. You took his hand from your face and traced his palm between you, avoiding his eyes.

“I just wanted to be better,” you said quietly. “I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t good enough for the squad.”

Hunter said you name in that gentle chastising way. He shook his head. “I would never think that. I don’t think that.”

You gave him a small smile before looking away again. “Are you mad?”

“No,” Hunter told you without hesitation before he gently lifted your chin with his finger and kissed your forehead. “But I understand why you are.”

You huffed despite the sweet gesture. “It just makes no sense! How could they say it’s unnecessary? We’re in the middle of a kriffing war. Don’t they want to win?”

Hunter nodded, an amused smile trying to break through his expression at your frustrated hand gestures. “You’re right, cyare. But staying mad at the GAR won’t do any good.”

You sighed, crossing your arms, frown on your face. “I know. But they’re just so…idiotic.”

Hunter chuckled. “I know, sweetheart. But I do have an idea, if you’d like to hear it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Hunter smiled and unlaced your arms so he could hold your hands. “You let us train you.”

Your eyes widened in shock at his offer. “Really? You would give me the extra training?”

Hunter smiled with his teeth, and you knew he was really happy when he did that. Knowing you were the source of such a smile made your insides warm. How special was he.

“Yes, I would. And so would my brothers.” Hunter squeezed your hands and looked at you seriously. “If further training is what you want, then you should have it. You’re an asset to this squad; I don’t want you to feel like you’re not good enough to be here.”

You could’ve cried with happiness. All your anger at the GAR melted away. Who needed them when you had Hunter? You loved this man so much.

Smiling up at him, you asked, “How will it work? Our missions are always back-to-back.”

“I’m sure Tech will be able to formulate a schedule,” Hunter shrugged. “But we’ll make it work. The GAR says it’s unnecessary? Well, we’ve never been good at following orders.”

You laughed and threw your arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. You breathed in his scent from his dark curls, and his arms went around your torso and held you close. You could feel him smile into your neck before he kissed it. The edges of his armour bit into your body, but you could hardly care. You loved him more than words.

“Thank you, Hunter,” you whispered into him before pulling back to look at his beautiful face. He smiled warmly at you, a dapple of sunlight hitting his eyes, so they shone with that same warmth. You cradled his jaw in one hand and stroked the stubble-lined cheek with your thumb before kissing his lips sweetly, hoping it conveyed how much you loved and appreciated him. Hunter, ever the discerner of your emotions, smiled into the kiss before he deepened it a little, holding you tighter against his solid frame as his lips moved against yours tenderly. When you both pulled back, you were smiling at each other as your foreheads touched.

“Always,” Hunter said between you, grinning.

thank you for reading! 🏷️ @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @literallydontlook @maniacalbooper @heronamecatrina @lulalovez @burningfieldof-clover @queencousland101 @lovelycurls @hopelessromantic727 @ezras-left-thumb @rebel-ezra @bimboshaggy @bunnyreese12 @spaceyjessa @jesseeka @lesbianhotch

#larissa writes #hunter x reader #hunter bad batch x reader #hunter x reader fic #hunter bad batch x reader fic #hunter bad batch fic #the bad batch hunter fic #soft hunter #soft hunter fic #the bad batch fluff #hunter bad batch fluff #tbb x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter

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lovezbrownies · 5 months ago

Note

Nia with a really clumsy reader, like when reader gets left alone for 10 seconds theyve already set something on fire and caused the death of 5 families (im exaggerating for dramatic effect)

everytime i see a nia request it always gives me so much joyndkjfnds theyre always so fire oomf thank yeww for this one

Oopsie! (Yandere!Queen x GN!Reader.)

Nia's Masterlist - General Masterlist

Synopsis: Nia meets a very clumsy yet endearing individual.

Nia Bloodwen x GN!Reader.

Warnings: 'Countel' used as a gender neutral term of Count/Countess, Reader genuinely doesn't know how to walk or talk at all, Reader is a nervous wreck in this, Nia is having fun.

Your marriage to Queen Nia was supposed to be one of convenience—for you, at least. As the clumsy former Countel of the L/N house, your title had been thrust upon you when your fathers, tired of the burdens of leadership, handed over the reins to their 24-year-old heir. And though you were earnest, you were terrible at it. It wasn’t that you didn’t try—oh, you tried—but the documents you signed often had to be rewritten, your speeches were filled with stumbles, and you couldn’t navigate noble circles to save your life.

So, you kept to yourself at parties, avoiding the judgmental eyes of other nobles, desperately trying not to trip over your own feet. Soon, you became known as the “mysterious Countel,” a title whispered among the court’s gossipers. The irony wasn’t lost on you—your mystery was born out of your desire not to make a fool of yourself. Yet, somehow, it only made you more desirable to certain women, drawn to your quiet demeanor. You always declined their advances, though. “I’m flattered, but at the moment, I have no interest in courtship,” you’d say, voice cracking just enough to make them more intrigued, though that was never your intention.

Then, one day, everything changed. You found yourself in the Queen’s presence, not through any special favor but simply through the necessary duties of noble estates. Queen Nia, however, was known for her reclusive manner—meetings with her were conducted behind a curtain, her assistant passing documents back and forth between you. As you fumbled through the mountainous folder of estate paperwork, you were, naturally, a mess.

“Err, the estate papers… Uh, I think it’s this one!” you said, rising from your chair to hand over what you believed to be the correct document. But as you stood, the chair screeched loudly across the marble floor, and your foot—of course—caught on one of its legs. You stumbled forward with a yelp, only to be caught by the horrified assistant. “Stop! Please, sit down,” she hissed, gently guiding you back into your chair, prying the file from your sweaty hands.

“Oh, sorry!” you muttered, flushed with embarrassment, your ears burning.

Nia, behind her veil of privacy, heard the commotion and couldn’t suppress her curiosity. She knew of you—rumors had swirled around court about the elusive and awkward Countel, but this display? The nervousness in your voice, the shuffling of your steps? It wasn’t what she had imagined. In fact, she found herself oddly charmed by the entire affair.

The assistant passed the file to Nia, and when she opened it, her amusement grew tenfold. “Countel L/N, are you sure this is correct?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement that was difficult to hide.

You froze on the other side of the curtain. “Um, yes?” you responded, only for her to hum softly.

“These appear to be your drawings,” she said, her tone now openly teasing.

“Oh gosh! Uh—y-yes, I mean, no! That’s not the—wait!” Frantically, you shuffled through your papers, your heart pounding in your chest as you realized you’d handed over your sketchbook by mistake. You found the correct file, nearly shoving it into the assistant’s hands, mortified beyond words. “I-I’m so sorry! Here’s the real one, your Majesty!”

Nia, on the other side of the curtain, had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. It was… endearing, really—your clumsiness, your flustered apologies. And those drawings? They were beautiful. There was something raw and unpolished about them that made her linger on each page, tracing the delicate, clumsy lines of birds and flowers, the intricate details you poured into sketches of the estate’s landscape. She wasn’t just amused; she was fascinated.

Your meeting ended in what you hoped was a neutral tone, and as you nervously stood to leave, you cleared your throat. “Um, c-could I maybe… have the drawings back?” you asked, eyes wide with hope.

“No,” came the sharp, definitive reply.

“Ah…” You left, defeated and certain this would be the end of you. Surely, she’d have your head for this embarrassment! You returned home that evening, declaring to your family that your beheading was imminent. They laughed, of course, as they always did when you overreacted. You, however, were already trying to figure out which of your younger sisters would be fit to take over your title.

Meanwhile, Queen Nia sat in her chambers, unable to focus on her usual duties. She tried, of course, to turn her attention to her work, but her gaze kept drifting back to your sketches. She found herself flipping through them over and over, a faint scent of flowers—perhaps from your preferred drawing spot—clinging to the pages. Each stroke of your pen had a life of its own, and it wasn’t long before Nia found herself daydreaming. How strange it was to miss someone she had barely met! The way you had fumbled, the way you had nervously stammered—it was all so utterly… adorable.

Within days, she began inquiring about you discreetly. She invited one of your admirers to her court, listening patiently as the young noblewoman gushed about your endearing quirks. Nia learned that you preferred to keep to yourself at parties, that you were fiercely protective of your sisters, and that you spent most of your free time drawing under the trees in your estate’s garden. A week passed, then two. Nia found herself thinking of you more and more, until finally, she couldn’t resist.

After months of orchestrated meetings and quiet observation, Nia had finally managed to break through your social barriers. You were no longer simply the Countel you had been before—now, you saw her as a friend. And you valued that friendship, even if it made you impossibly nervous. But then, out of nowhere, Nia dropped a bombshell.

“I want you to marry me,” she said one afternoon, her voice so calm and assured that you nearly choked on your tea.

“What?!” you sputtered, coughing violently as water sprayed from both your mouth and nose. You could barely breathe as you struggled to process what she’d just said.

Nia stood, her silhouette suddenly imposing as she stepped out from behind the curtain for the first time. She wasn’t in her usual royal attire—today, she was dressed simply, her hair loose and flowing, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart pound. “You heard me, Countel. I want you to marry me.”

“B-but, I—Your Majesty—I—!” Words failed you as you sat frozen, your mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. This wasn’t just a proposal from any noblewoman—this was the Queen. You couldn’t possibly refuse her, yet marriage had always been something you dreaded, something you weren’t ready for.

Nia’s smile was dangerous, predatory almost, as she closed the distance between you with deliberate steps. “You’ve caught my eye, Countel L/N,” she purred, her voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re charming, in your own awkward way. You’re clumsy, shy, and you never seem to know what to say, but it’s exactly those qualities that make you… irresistible.”

Your throat went dry as she leaned down, her face now inches from yours. You could feel the heat radiating from her skin, smell the faint hint of roses in her hair. “I’ve decided you’re the one,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear as you sat, helpless and breathless. “And I always get what I want.”

“I-I don’t know if—”

“Doesn’t matter,” she cut you off with a gleam in her eyes, wrapping her arms around you with surprising gentleness. “You’re mine now, Countel. And you’re going to be the perfect spouse for a queen.”

Before you could protest further, Nia’s grip tightened, her hands trailing down your back. You weren’t sure if you should laugh, cry, or pass out. But one thing was for certain—you were no longer the clumsy, awkward Countel. You were now the Queen’s clumsy, award partner, and there was no escaping her embrace.

The grand, sunlit halls of the palace stretched endlessly before you, the polished marble floors shimmering beneath the cascading light that filtered through tall, stained-glass windows. And in the midst of this royal grandeur, your hand was clasped firmly within Queen Nia’s—a gesture that had become all too familiar, though not for its elegance. No, she held onto you not out of decorum but to prevent your inevitable stumbles. Today was no exception.

“Honestly, my love,” Nia’s voice, a melody of amusement, slipped past her lips, the sound echoing through the quiet halls. She tugged you closer as you narrowly avoided crashing into a priceless vase, your foot—somehow—tangling itself in the hem of your elaborate royal robes. “How do you manage to trip over absolutely nothing? Do you have some sort of talent for this?” She was laughing now, the sound warm but carrying an undertone of possessive affection, as though she were the only one allowed to witness your constant mishaps.

You flushed, cheeks burning beneath her teasing gaze, and muttered an apology that she waved off immediately, her grip tightening on your arm. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she purred, eyes glinting as she looked at you. “You wouldn’t be you without all this.” Her free hand gently brushed your cheek, her touch lingering in that possessive way she always had—as if claiming you as her own with every small gesture, reminding you with each caress that you belonged to her and her alone.

Months had passed since your marriage, and though you had settled into your role as her spouse, you still hadn’t quite gotten used to the way she looked at you sometimes—those predatory eyes, always watching, always following your every move as though you were something precious and fragile, something she’d fiercely protect but never let go. There were days when you wondered if she’d ever stop teasing you, but you knew the answer before you could even consider it.

Nia enjoyed your clumsiness far too much, her laughter a constant reminder of her amusement—and her obsession. Every trip, every stumble seemed to end with her holding you tighter, her arms around your waist, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, “You’re mine, darling. Always.” And though her words made you feel safe, there was something more beneath them—a fierce protectiveness, a possessiveness that never quite left her tone.

And yet, as the months passed, you couldn’t help but notice someone else’s eyes lingering on you—eyes that were far less welcoming, far less comforting than Nia’s. Isadora, Nia’s ever-dutiful assistant, had become a shadow in your life, always hovering just out of reach, her gaze too intense, too calculating. At first, you thought nothing of it—surely she was simply doing her job, ensuring her Queen’s spouse was well taken care of. But there was something different about the way she spoke to you now, the way her hands would sometimes brush against yours as she passed you documents, or how her eyes lingered just a bit too long when you tripped and Nia wasn’t there to catch you.

One evening, as you sat alone in the palace gardens, sketching nervously under the fading sunlight, Isadora approached, her steps almost too quiet for comfort. “Countel,” she greeted, her voice smooth as silk but laced with something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced up, offering her a polite smile as she stood over you, her shadow casting a long, dark line over your sketchbook.

“Good evening, Isadora,” you replied, your voice wavering slightly. There was something unsettling about the way she was looking at you, as if she were studying you far too closely. She crouched beside you, and you stiffened as her fingers brushed your wrist—just a light touch, but it sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t like how close she was, how her breath seemed to warm the air around you.

“I’ve noticed…” she began, her tone far too intimate for your comfort, “that the Queen seems rather… fond of you.” Her fingers traced along the back of your hand, and you flinched, pulling away awkwardly, nearly knocking your sketchbook into the dirt in your clumsy retreat.

“I—um—yes, of course she is,” you stammered, fumbling with your words as you struggled to maintain your composure. “I-I mean, that’s not surprising, right? I—uh—she's my wife, after all…”

Isadora’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re quite the catch, Countel L/N,” she whispered, her hand ghosting over your arm now. “Someone as kind and charming as you… well, it’s no wonder she’s obsessed.” There was a sharpness to her words, a hidden bitterness that sent your heart racing in the wrong direction. You tried to step back slowly, awkwardly adjusting your sketchbook under your arm as you stood—nonchalant, you told yourself, just another casual movement. But as you turned, your foot caught on a loose cobblestone, sending you careening sideways into a nearby flowerbed, your arms flailing wildly to catch yourself.

You hit the ground with a soft thud, face flushed, flowers and dirt mingling with your robes. “Oh no! I’m fine!” you exclaimed, cheeks burning. You scrambled back to your feet, brushing off the petals and soil as Isadora chuckled softly, the sound laced with a mix of amusement and something darker.

“See?” Isadora leaned closer, a teasing lilt in her voice, “You really do need someone to catch you.” She reached out, her hand grasping your elbow, but you jerked away, panic rising as you tried to regain your composure.

“I really appreciate it, but I should go—like, um, really go tell Nia something! Important! Very important!” You stammered, your words tumbling over each other in your rush to escape. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to talk, but…” You stumbled over your own thoughts, the franticness of the situation sending you spiraling.

Isadora smirked, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “I think we’d make a lovely pair,” she persisted, her gaze piercing as you stumbled backward toward the palace, nearly tripping over your own feet again. “You don’t have to tell her everything, do you?”

You shook your head violently, feeling the weight of her words crashing down around you. “I-I really don’t think that’s a good idea! I mean, why would I—um, ah!” Your foot caught on the hem of your robe, and you tumbled forward, the world tilting precariously as you collided with a nearby garden bench, nearly tipping it over as you flailed to steady yourself.

“I’m—going to go—tell Nia!” you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips in a rush as you managed to slip through the doors, leaving Isadora behind. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you wiped your sweaty palms on your robes, desperately trying to find Nia, trying to shake off the unsettling feelings that lingered from the encounter.

When you finally found Nia in your shared chambers, lounging gracefully on the edge of the bed, her expression softened at the sight of you. You could feel the tension leaving your body just by being in her presence. Her eyes lit up with curiosity as you approached—trying to steady your voice, trying not to make it seem like anything was wrong.

“What’s happened, darling?” she asked, her voice laced with concern as she noticed your hesitation.

You fumbled for words, wringing your hands together as you paced the room, trying to make sense of the mess in your head without alarming her. “I… um, I don’t want to make a big deal of this, but… Isadora, she…” You trailed off, feeling the weight of Nia’s gaze on you, and then took a deep breath, forcing yourself to say it. “She… tried to, um… make some sort of… move? On me?”

The room seemed to still. Nia’s playful expression froze, her eyes narrowing as she processed what you’d said. The air around her darkened, a possessive storm gathering behind her eyes. “What?” Her voice, though soft, carried an edge so sharp it sent a chill down your spine. “She what?”

You swallowed hard, regretting immediately that you hadn’t just told her straight away. But now, there was no going back. “I-I told her no, obviously,” you added quickly, feeling the weight of her possessive gaze on you, “but… I thought you should know.”

Nia rose from the bed, her movements graceful yet terrifying in their deliberation. The playful Queen was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous, far more protective. “Where is she now?” she asked, her voice cold, calculated.

Before you could answer, she was already calling for the guards, her voice ringing with fury. Within moments, Isadora was dragged into the room, her confident demeanor slipping as she was forced to her knees before the Queen. Nia’s eyes burned with possessive wrath as she stood over the trembling assistant.

“You thought you could lay a hand on my spouse?” Nia’s voice was deadly, her gaze unwavering as she stared down at Isadora. “You dared to think you could steal what is mine?”

Isadora stammered out a weak apology, but Nia wasn’t having any of it. “Your ambition blinds you,” she said, her voice low and sharp, like the edge of a blade. “You’ve miscalculated your position here.” Her gaze flickered toward you, filled with a mixture of concern and fierce protectiveness that sent shivers racing down your spine.

You stood frozen, caught in a whirlwind of emotions as you watched Isadora falter under Nia's intensity. “I—I didn’t mean to…” Isadora protested, her composure cracking as she looked up at Nia, desperation creeping into her voice. “I thought—I just thought…”

“Thought what?” Nia interrupted, her tone cutting through the air like ice. “That you could charm your way into my life? That you could take what belongs to me?” She stepped closer, looming over Isadora, who now cowered beneath the Queen’s wrath, her earlier confidence shattered.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, thick with tension, as you felt a mix of dread and relief. Dread for Isadora, whose ambition had led her to this moment, and relief because Nia was defending you, fiercely and unabashedly. But even as you felt that protective warmth from your wife, a small flicker of concern tugged at your heart.

“Nia, please—” you started, your voice hesitant as you approached her, wanting to defuse the situation. “I-It’s okay. I told her no. I didn’t want any of this—”

“Stay back, darling,” Nia interjected, her voice firm as she turned to you, eyes softening just a fraction as she glanced your way. “This is between me and her now.”

You watched, heart racing, as Nia’s expression hardened again. “You will not threaten my spouse again,” she declared, her voice unwavering. “Consider this your final warning. I’ll not allow anyone to come between us, Isadora. You may leave, but understand this: any further attempts, and you will regret it.”

Isadora’s eyes widened with fear, and she nodded rapidly, scrambling to her feet as she backed away. “I didn’t mean any harm! I was just—” But her words fell flat as Nia stepped forward, every inch of her commanding, fierce, and utterly in control.

“Leave,” Nia repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument. Isadora stumbled back out of the room, muttering half-hearted apologies, clearly shaken, her earlier confidence extinguished in the face of Nia’s wrath. The door slammed shut behind her, the echo reverberating through the silence that followed.

You turned back to Nia, who was now visibly shaking with the force of her emotions. The anger had left her, but the protective intensity remained, her eyes dark and swirling with unbridled feelings. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice suddenly soft, the fierce Queen giving way to the concerned wife.

“I—I think so,” you replied, your heart still racing, a mix of exhilaration and anxiety coursing through you. “I didn’t expect that to happen.”

Nia stepped closer, wrapping her arms around you, her warmth enveloping you like a shield. “You have to understand,” she murmured against your hair, “I can’t allow anyone to come near you. You’re too precious to me.” Her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you tightly as if she were afraid you might slip away.

“I know,” you whispered, burying your face in her shoulder, feeling the comfort of her presence wash over you. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

Nia pulled back slightly, her gaze intense as she searched your eyes. “You’re never trouble, my love. You’re everything to me. I’ll protect you, always.” Her voice was low, fierce, filled with an earnestness that made your heart swell.

As she stepped back, her expression softened, and the playfulness returned to her gaze, but there was an underlying tension still lingering between you two. “But I won’t tolerate anyone trying to come between us again. Not even a whisper of it.” Her lips curved into a teasing smile, but the possessiveness in her eyes remained. “So, just promise me—if anyone else tries anything, you’ll tell me immediately. No more hiding.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of her gaze pressing down on you. “I promise,” you replied, your voice steady. “I won’t let anyone come between us. Especially not Isadora.” Oof, best not to cross Nia, that is for sure.

Nia smiled, satisfaction flickering across her features. “Good,” she said, pulling you back into her embrace, her warmth grounding you. “Now, let’s put this behind us, shall we?”

In that moment, surrounded by her fierce love, you knew that no matter the challenges that lay ahead, you would face them together. And in the heart of the storm, you felt an undeniable strength—a bond that was unbreakable, forged in the fires of love and loyalty.

#yandere x reader #gn reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere x darling #x reader #tw yandere #yandere #gender neutral #female yandere #female yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere request #Nia Bloodwen #guys do u think i yapped too much in this

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sundrop-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Your First Kiss With Jason Todd

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

Jason always thought he hated you. He did hate you.

Until he didn't.

Until his love for you ruined him in ways he couldn't even imagine.

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader. Frenemies to Lovers. Pure Angst (Hurt, No Comfort). Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 8,200

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: This fic is almost entirely angst - hurt, no comfort. This fic does not have a happy ending!!! So be warned of that before you enter here. Jason and the reader are described as ‘hating’ each other, but they are more like frenemies/annoyances - they have a playful banter (at the time, even they don’t know that they like arguing because it’s sexual tension and passion for each other); the reader is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; this is mostly written from Jason’s POV (which is where most of the angst comes from); Jason describes himself as a ‘zombie’ or ‘half-alive’ - but he is fully alive and has all of his mental faculties, he is just freaked out about the fact that he was resurrected; the reader does not have any meta powers, but is described as being very good at combat (this does not denote the reader’s body type); mentions of sex and some sexual themes - but there is no outright smut and no detailed descriptions of sex; mentions of negative stereotypes surrounding frat boys/frat houses - including STDs and group sex (mentioned in a negative light); mentions of Jason masturbating (and thinking about the reader while doing it); mentions of Jason’s canon trauma (being kidnapped and tortured by Deathstroke, dropped off the building); mentions of Jason being killed by the Joker (and being ressurected by Crane); mentions of the reader mourning Jason’s death; mentions of drugs and drug addiction (based around the canon storyline of the anti-fear gas); mentions of Jason’s trauma surround his mother’s drug addiction; mentions of Jason killing Hank (as in the canon); the reader is kidnapped (by Crane or someone who works for Crane) and held hostage, and later rescued by Jason; somewhat graphic descriptions of violence (Jason beating up Crane, other background instances), gory descriptions of a death toward the end (mentions of acid burns and choking on non-breathable air); major character death - the reader character does die. Like I said - no happy ending. Sorry not sorry.

A/N: This is set during Season 3 - and this does feature spoilers for Season 3 if you haven't seen Titans before. So if you wanna watch the show spoiler free, definitely avoid this fic. I was imagining this to be set around episode 6 or episode 7, before Crane's plan to use the ice cream factory is taken down by the Titans, but obviously Jason breaking away from Crane's control so early goes against the canon - so there's that. Also, if you wanna pair some music with this for something truly heartbreaking, I would highly recommend the classic Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush, or the highly underrated Colorado Sunrise by 3OH!3 (the lyrics are way more depressing than people realize, and I love it as a whump song. oomf). I also feel like the song Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny would go so well with this fic, but in like - the most devastating way. I haven't written something this cruel since I wrote Ghosting and I had so much fun doing it. You can't leave me alone with whump for too long, I turn into a monster. I need to go back to smut again quickly lmao.

...

Jason Todd was in love with you.

It was something that he hated himself for. Actually, it was one of the most infuriating, devastating facts in the world. But it was true. You were someone who was so entirely amazing. You were beautiful - literally the hottest person Jason had ever met who wasn’t photoshopped or catered to be some unrealistic daydream. You were clever and smart and strong. You could kick anybody’s ass on any day of the week and still have enough energy left to tell them how much of an idiot they were and list all of the reasons why.

And you would definitely never love Jason back. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he could ever have someone like you.

So he kept all of that stupid, idiotic love to himself. It was a secret that he had sworn to die with - and technically, he already had.

Jason tried not to linger on the very fucked up, seemingly impossible fact that he had come back from the dead. And now he was existing as some weird, fucked up zombie thing - resurrected from having his skull caved in by the Joker to do Jonathan Crane’s bidding. This definitely wasn’t what Jason would have wanted out of a renewed life - but hey: when an Arkham prisoner gives you rotten lemons.

When Jason wasn’t beating down drug dealers, stealing money, or strapping bombs to people - when he was trying his hardest not to focus on the fact that he had died and he was now living some strange half-life, reliant on Crane’s drugs, he was thinking about you. He thought about you a lot.

He hadn’t come into contact with you since his strange foray back into the land of the living. That was probably for the best. He knew that you had freshly come back to Gotham, upon Dick’s request. Nightwing had called for backup from all the ex-Titans to help end Red Hood’s reign of terror. Jason wanted to stay as far away from you as possible.

Genuinely, he didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire of whatever Crane was planning. He wished you had stayed out of Gotham, but he knew that you were too loyal, too good not to come to the aid of the Titans when they needed you. He couldn’t reveal himself to you just for a taste of nostalgia - one last argument before you sold him down the river for good. But fuck - he thought about you a lot.

When the two of you had first met, you were the last person he ever thought that he would surrender that stupid, soft label of love to. Even months into first knowing you - he would have said that he hated you. He would have told anybody that he found you to be the most annoying person on earth.

Your relationship used to be the worst kind of dance.

Every single time that Jason opened his mouth, you said something to contradict him. To a point, he believed that you didn’t even fully stand behind the things you said - you just enjoyed arguing against him. That you did it for sport. You used every single last bit of your time and energy to get under his skin. From mocking him to calling him a fuckboy to prodding at his grammar, poking holes in his points by smugly correcting him. He always found you to be the most infuriating person in any room. But it seemed that the more frustrated he got with you, the more cool headed you remained.

He tried to mock you back, and you shrugged it off. Every time he became visibly annoyed in your presence - you giggled. He wanted to strangle you.

And it was one fated day that he realized the line between heat fueled by frustration and heat fueled by lust truly weren’t that different.

…

“Jason! I thought I smelled you coming down the hall!”

Jason groaned when he heard you make this comment.

He thought that for once, he could have some peace to train alone - but it appeared that he would have no such luck. You were already in the training room, holding a long bo-staff as you ran some drills. Apparently, you were eager to exercise your mouth too - already whipping off clever insults the minute that Jason entered the room.

When all he could muster was a glare in your direction, you let out a giggle. His blood boiled.

“Between that god awful Axe body wash and that alcohol based aftershave that you like to drown yourself in, you smell like a walking frat house.” You continued, blabbering on even though Jason had made no efforts to engage you. At least not yet. “Just throw in some Busch Light and weed, and I might be able to catch gonorrhea just from the stench.”

That was the nerve that hooked Jason into the conversation. First of all - he smelled fucking delightful. He always made hygiene one of his personal priorities. He was absolutely not one of those guys with crusty, sweaty balls. And second of all - he was not one of those STD spreading manwhores. He was clean in all senses. He always used a condom.

“Sounds like you’ve got experience with that.” Jason quipped back.

He looked to you for some kind of reaction, some inkling that he had gotten under your skin even a fraction of the way that you did his. His movements were rough with annoyance as he began wrapping his knuckles with tape so he could have a few rounds with the heavy bag - mostly out of a need to pound out his frustration on something. He was getting too angered with your presence in the room and not wanting to snap and take it out on you. (He already had enough on his record with Bruce, and despite popular opinion - he was trying to improve.)

When you weren’t quick to respond, Jason continued.

“You used to letting frat boys all over you? You seem like the type of person who would enjoy a good, sloppy frat house train. Twenty guys, one after the other, none of them knowing your name, just because you’re so needy for a good fuck.”

Jason grinned, feeling like he had won this conversation with the essence of shock alone.

But no. As always, you remained cool. You grinned right back at him, stepping toward him, crowding into his personal space as you said your next words in a low, smooth voice.

“Sounds like you spend an awful lot of time picturing me running a train.” You smirked. “Is that why you’re always so late getting up in the morning? You wake up and the first thing you do is get a hand on your dick, imagining me getting fucked by a lineup of guys? Probably just wishing that one of them was you.”

Jason’s face fell flat.

You were so strikingly confident in your words that it made his stomach twist. Facing him down, speaking such filthy words without flinching - embarrassment and heat collided inside of him. Even more so with what you did next.

You put a hand out in front of your crotch, mimicking the motions of jacking off while you mocked him in a broken voice.

“Oh, oh fuck Y/N! Come on! Take my sloppy, frat house cock!”

You then mocked a whiny series of moans that must have been Jason’s fake orgasm - and while Jason’s insides bubbled with a confusing heat, you quickly dissolved off into laughter.

“Shut up.” Jason snapped, forcing his eyes down to focus on the process of taping himself up - praying that you wouldn’t see the heat that had spread across his cheeks. “You’re the fucking worst.”

“Only when I’m with you.” You replied, blowing him a kiss - to which he stuck his middle finger up at you.

He was eternally thankful when you went back to your own training in silence, only taking occasional glances up in his direction.

…

After that point, Jason had to admit to himself that he was attracted to you, at the very least. He could no longer deny that you were insanely attractive; you were a very, very hot person. And somehow, even past your annoying habits, he was being drawn into the orbit of your gorgeous looks and your wonderfully cocky, filthy mouth.

But he still hated you. He definitely still hated you.

He hated it even more when you became right - and you did become the object of some of his more heated fantasies. He became downright annoyed at the times he had his hand around his cock and imagined himself hate fucking you - imagined forcing every cocky retort out of your mouth, imagining you breathless and needy beneath him, begging for more with every hard push of his hips.

He hated how everything changed after Doctor Light.

Jason wasn’t thinking about your stupid beautiful cocky mouth after that. His mind was full of glass and he was being shredded from the inside out. He came home broken. After everything that happened with Deathstroke and Doctor Light - he was some fragile bird; some chewed up, used, pitiful thing. He didn’t have the energy to fight you anymore, not even for sport.

So after he was rescued, still floating in numbness, he didn’t know what to do when you burst into his room unannounced. You practically shoved the door off its hinges, and stormed across the room toward him - tears hot in your eyes. You pounded curled fists against his chest, screaming at the top of your lungs. Half of your words were static in his ears, but the tone of your voice pierced through his heart like an arrow. You called him stupid, asking where in his empty head he had gotten the idea to go off by himself.

Jason didn’t have it in him to fight you. So he broke down.

He felt like the world’s biggest idiot for crying in front of you. But his throat was tight and he choked on the tears - he was too tired. He just couldn’t hold them back. He screamed back, and asked you to lay off. To get off his fucking back.

You looked shocked. Like you had swallowed a piece of glass.

You surprised him when you uncurled your fists and wrapped the most tender, gentle hands around his back, and for the first time since he had known you - you embraced him in a hug. He was weak and he needed it more than he was willing to admit, so he let you. He sobbed against your neck, his own cries too loud that he missed the timid sound of your apology.

That wasn’t the only time you surprised him that week.

He knew it was because he was some broken little bird, but you started taking care of him. You brought him plates of food without being asked, and when he attempted to shove them away - you refused. You told him to eat before you had to ‘shove it down his fucking throat’.

You didn’t mock him. You didn’t correct him. And you surprised him even more when you turned the sharpness of your tongue on the others when they tried attacking Jason. They accused him of planting booze in Hank’s room or drawing crosses on Rachel’s mirror to fuck with her, among other things. And you popped veins in your neck going on a winding rant about how stupid and baseless their accusations were.

Jason wasn’t sure if you knew it, but you jumping to his defense wrapped him in a blanket of protection that he had never before felt. It was so entirely strange, but welcomed coming from you. Especially because he knew that it was genuine. He knew that you didn’t have any ulterior motives for doing this - for some reason, you just wanted to help him.

When you extended an invitation toward him to come with you as the group dispersed, torn apart by Dick’s nasty, festering secret - Jason felt welcomed by you. He knew that the dynamic between the two of you was changing at a breakneck speed, and he had to embrace it. He found himself eager to follow the weird, newly developing kinship that he had with you rather than wanting to stay in the empty coldness of the Tower with a brooding Dick.

From there, it was really difficult for Jason to pin down the exact moment that his feelings transitioned toward you from casual lust to something more. He couldn’t tell exactly when it turned into that panic-inducing, ‘oh my god, I’m fucked’ feeling of being in love. After leaving San Francisco, during the entirety of the time that the two of you were in Gotham together, your relationship remained completely platonic.

It was a few short weeks spent kicking ass as the best vigilante duo the city had ever seen, but there wasn’t a single moment Jason could point to where the two of you lit up with that romantic spark. It wasn’t some romcom bullshit come to life. It was just the two of you being friendly for once. The two of you helping each other survive.

Back then - Jason wanted you, badly. Even if he didn’t know just how badly, he wasn’t going to fuck up the whole dynamic just to get laid. He felt safe with you. He kicked ass with you. He was good with you. And during that short time - he was happy. So he wasn’t going to do anything to risk that happiness. Happiness was too rare for him. So why the hell would he try putting the moves on you, scare you away, and fuck it all up?

…

A little slice of that happiness came in the form of Hal’s Diner. It was a place in downtown Gotham, open twenty four hours, and you and Jason had gotten into the habit of stopping there after your patrols.

The two of you would kick some ass - break the legs of some drug dealers, make sure that women got home safe if they were walking late at night, keep the streets a little safer. And then you would change out of your patrol outfits and head to the diner, just as the sun was rising over the scummy streets of Gotham. You would get breakfast and Jason would get dinner. He would steal one of your eggs and you would take half his burger, and you would always comment about him putting way too much ketchup on his plate.

It was harmony.

“You know, every time I see you make a grown man cry, it brings me such intense joy.” Jason grinned as he said this, reminiscing about a beautiful moment from earlier in the night.

He spoke about it in the same manner that someone might reminisce about seeing a relative or a cute puppy. But this was natural for the two of you - since you had taken up vigilantism as a duo, violence was a sweet art for the two of you.

“Well, if he would have left that girl alone the first time I asked, I wouldn’t have broken his arm.” You shrugged, speaking very casually about it yourself.

You then picked a piece of bacon up off your plate and took a bite, grinning at Jason fondly. You did appreciate it when he complimented your skills.

Jason chuckled.

“You know, it is nice to see you using your powers for good instead of evil.” He commented.

“My powers?” You parroted back, your mouth half busy with chewing, your words slightly muffled.

You didn’t have any metahuman powers, so this comment did leave you slightly confused.

“Yeah.” He nodded, entirely confident in the statement he had to follow. “Your endless amount of energy to harass people and be endlessly annoying. The powers you used to spend all your time using on me.”

“You used to deserve it.” You were quick with your tongue as usual, not missing a beat with this statement.

Jason’s only rebuttal was to pick up a french fry - one not doused in ketchup - and throw it at your head. You flinched slightly when it bounced off your forehead - but when it landed in your lap, you easily picked it up and put it in your mouth, not thinking twice about doing so as you tossed Jason a wicked grin.

That. That must have been the moment.

That was the moment he realized that he was truly in love with you. You grinning at him from across the table, your smile lighting up your whole face, playing around with him like he actually made you happy. Like he could spend the rest of his life making you happy.

That’s why it hurt so much more when your phone buzzed on the table a few minutes later. When you told him that it was the Titans - Gar in trouble. That’s why it hurt so fucking much when you left.

Jason knew, in hindsight, that he should have gone with you. But he flailed like a rabbit caught in a snare, and rather than just agreeing with you, he felt the trap tightening around him, and he opted to chew off his own foot rather than simply letting you help him free.

He stupidly argued that it was some test from Dick. That the Titans could deal with their own problems. Jason knew that deep down, he was still tender from everything that had happened - Dick dropping him, even by accident. The accusations, the secrets. The rejection. He felt like he was laying down a line - he was letting you make a choice.

Him or the Titans.

But it shouldn’t have been a choice. It was Gar. Jason should have stood by his friend. He should have gone with you.

Deep down, Jason feared that if he did go with you - the Titans wouldn’t want him back. He feared another cutting rejection. They would simply bench him again, they wouldn’t even need him to help save Gar. They wouldn’t want him to help. He was useless, after all. He was careless and stupid. That was why he needed you to choose him. To stay.

That was what his mind was screaming out as you looked at him, disappointment flooding your eyes as you questioned him about Gar, about going back to the Titans.

Stay. He silently begged. Pick me.

And watching you snatch up your jacket in a huff and get up from the table, your food barely touched - his eyes boring into your back as you retreated - it was like having his heart carved out of his chest. And because he was so fucked up, he just sat there. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He didn’t chase you.

He let you go.

Having you suddenly disappear from his life was like missing a limb. Jason was constantly aching around your non-presence, constantly missing you. He felt torn up from the inside out, wondering if his frayed nerve endings would ever heal themselves. When he went to Donna’s funeral, he stared at you from across the tarmac - telling himself that if you even so much as glanced in his direction, he would cross that sickly one hundred foot black sea and talk to you. He would make the leap and apologize.

But you were fettered and stubborn and you kept your head straight. You knew it was the ultimate punishment not to acknowledge him. So the moment that the plane took off, Jason shoved on his helmet and sped off on his bike.

He easily became numb after that.

He went back to Bruce - to lay low and lick his wounds, or because it was the only place he knew, he wasn’t sure. He tried to be a Robin that wasn’t with you. It didn’t work. He felt more broken than ever. It was cheesy, pathetic bullshit - but he talked about you in therapy. Leslie encouraged him to reach out to you, but every time Jason’s fingers hovered over your contact in his phone, his hands shook, and all he remembered was the look of pure scorn you had given him before you snatched up your things and left the diner that day.

He thought of you as he suited up to go after the Joker. He considered how easy it would be for the two of you to take down the stupid clown together - how flawlessly the two of you worked as a team.

Jason thought of you as he drew his last breath, soaked in blood and struggling past the world-ending pain. He wondered, in a haze, if you were warm in your bed in The Tower while he was pressed into the cold ground, taunted by the laughter that rung in his ears.

…

Jason didn’t know how hard you cried for him when you heard the news of his death.

You wouldn’t have dared to say that the hole in the middle of your chest was caused by love - caused by the heartbreak of a lover being stolen. But you certainly felt robbed when you heard that the Joker had killed him. You seethed and you heavily considered marching toward Gotham to seek revenge.

You knew that Dick was angry with Bruce for finally giving in to what the Joker wanted and killing him. For finally ending their sick, twisted game. But when you found out - you were glad that the clown was dead. You wrapped one of Jason’s stolen shirts around your pillow, and you slept a bit easier at night.

…

Jason knew that he should have left town.

Crane claimed that Red Hood was going to be the next Batman - that he was going to be something the Bat never could. That he was going to actually keep the streets safe. But so far, all Jason had done was steal, kill, terrorize, torture. Crane spoke of omelets and breaking eggs - pigs and bacon, and ‘marketing’ himself to the public. But truly, it never made any real sense to Jason.

Jason knew that now, he was the type of man lurking in the night whose arm you would have broken if he was lingering too closely to the vulnerable. And you would have been right for doing so.

Jason was tired. He felt lost - directionless. He was getting tired of Crane’s bullshit. He missed you. But he knew that he couldn’t just go running back to you. You likely wouldn’t have accepted him back into your life if he did.

When Crane called him in that night, wanting to discuss ‘the game plan’ - Jason was worn. His patience for all of it was already wearing thin, and what happened next - it truly caused him to snap.

Jason showed up in full gear, wearing the costume of an alias he no longer believed in; foolishly dressed up as someone he had truly begun to resent. He was holding his helmet in hand, his heavy boots clunking on the floor as he dodged around Crane’s egghead lackeys - a random group of people who were working to convert the anti-fear gas into a larger batch. He knew that they were aiming to get more and more people in the city hooked; if Jason hadn’t abandoned his morals in this new life, he might have cared more about the consequences.

Instead, he made a B-line for Crane, who was typing away at something on the computer.

“Jason, my boy!” Crane grinned at him, giving a false, performative grin over his shoulder. “Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

“What do you want?” Jason asked, his tone flat.

He was far too tired of Crane to engage in more word play or stupid riddles.

“Never one for pleasantries, are you?” Crane chuckled.

Jason didn’t offer him a reply - seemingly confirming his theory with this simple act.

Truthfully, he wasn’t. He wasn’t feeling very pleasant today. He hadn’t felt very pleasant any day since he had been so rudely pulled from the morgue and zombified to do someone else’s bidding against his will. Being an undead puppet didn’t really make a person all that pleasant.

Crane reached into the pocket of his oddly quaint grandpa sweater and pulled something out - a small glass vial, containing some clear liquid. It looked harmless - like water. But Jason knew Crane, and he knew that whatever it was must have been entirely dangerous if Crane was carrying around such a small dose of it.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, giving the vial a small shake, jostling the liquid inside to emphasize his point.

Jason hesitated before he shook his head in the negative. He hated to appear clueless and stupid around such an intelligent man, but he didn’t want to guess and be wrong. He knew that being misinformed around Crane was dangerous. But being cocky and pretending to know more than Crane was even more dangerous.

“This is a very highly concentrated form of liquid Methadone.” Crane explained. “It’s a highly addictive substance. And I think it’s going to give the mass market version of your formula that little extra kick that it needs, ya know? Keep the people coming back for more!”

He let out a bright chuckle, as though he was talking about a cleaning product that was marketed on an infomercial or some kind of great recipe for soup. That was one of the things that scared Jason the most about Crane - his ability to talk about life changing, deadly things with such jarring enthusiasm. He truly thought of bringing people their worst nightmares and their most painful deaths as ‘beautiful work’.

“What about it?” Jason prodded quietly.

He knew that Crane hadn’t called him here just to brag about a new idea to add something to the formula. He needed Jason for something.

Jason just hoped that he wasn’t looking to use him as a guinea pig again. He would likely rather die again than go down the path of heavy drugs. One thing he had vowed - he wouldn’t end up like his mother.

“Well, you see, my boy, that’s where you come in.” Crane grinned at him. “Due to its highly addictive qualities, Methadone is also a highly regulated substance. But because I am the wonderfully well-connected man that I am, I happen to know that there is a very large stash of it just sitting there, ripe for the taking, in this quaint little building uptown.”

Jason’s gut stirred with suspicion.

“Where uptown?” He asked.

“Well, it’s just-” Crane stuttered, and then sighed, deciding to get it out and over with. “The Wayne Memorial Cancer Research Facility.”

Jason glared at him.

“But see, it’s fine! Because I happen to know someone who knows their way around the Wayne Tech security systems very well. So Red Hood breaks in there, gets me my-”

“No.” Jason said flatly, before he turned and started to walk away. “Find somebody else. We’re done.”

Crane had threatened to replace him before. Crane had no-so-subtly threatened to kill him alongside being replaced. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe Jason would be better off dead. Maybe Crane would find out that Jason was irreplaceable after all. Maybe Jason was a dirty, seedy criminal shaped by life for only one thing: ruining the lives of others. If Jason couldn’t do that, he wasn’t sure what he would do.

But he wasn’t going to fucking do this.

Killing was one thing. Stealing from drug dealers and mobsters was another. What he had done to Hank had crossed too many lines - but it didn’t even begin to approach the lines that this crossed.

Stealing from a facility that Thomas and Martha had set up when Bruce was just a child, shitting all over their legacy, using skills that Bruce had taught him in order to do it? That was too far. Jason couldn’t say that he had morals anymore, but he still had that voice of common decency in the back of his head yelling at him to stop it. Maybe it was your voice, correcting him at every turn the way you used to.

He should listen to that voice.

He should leave town.

“Hold on, hold on there, Jaybird!” Crane called after him.

The pure annoyance that the nickname caused was the only thing that stopped Jason. He considered turning around and shooting Crane just to shut him up.

“See, I think you forget how this works.” The man went off again - talking in that humming tone he always used that made Jason’s ears numb, made his brain switch off. “Every loyal dog gets a treat. A little motivation to get that Pavlovian mind barking in the right direction.”

Jason turned back around then.

“Nothing you say ever makes any fucking sense.” He barked out, ready to leave Crane with these as his last remarks before he left Gotham forever.

But then Crane tapped at a few things on his keyboard and pulled something up on the monitor - a dark, grainy video feed that had Jason squinting his eyes and walking closer to get a better look.

When Jason was able to truly take in the scene - his stomach dropped.

It was you.

You were sitting alone in some anonymous, concrete warehouse - probably in the industrial district of Gotham, if Jason had to guess. Crane didn’t like to keep his insurance policies too far away, he liked to play it close to the vest. You were tied to a chair, duct tape tight over your mouth, very much there against your will. You were looking straight ahead, with the camera angled down from the top corner of the room. Even through the grainy, black and white footage, Jason could see the wetness of tears streaking down your face.

You were terrified.

Jason’s helmet clattered to the floor, slipping from his grip as the shock overtook his system.

For the first time in weeks, fighting through the numbness of the drugs and the hazy shock of his new half-life - he was terrified too. Then he was angry. Rage bubbled up inside of him like a sharp, acidic bile.

“What the fuck have you done?” Jason growled out, the anger setting his jaw so tight that the words could barely escape between his teeth.

“I told you - every loyal dog gets a treat.” Crane said, a barely contained glee filtering through his voice as he peered over Jason’s shoulder at your weeping face on the screen.

He clapped a large hand on Jason’s shoulder, and Jason felt himself nearly choke on his own tongue - so swollen with anger that it barely fit in his mouth.

“So, go fetch, doggie.” Crane continued. “Go get me what I need. Otherwise, that sweet little treat of yours is gonna play dead.”

Crane leaned over and whispered those last words into Jason’s ear - and that was what truly caused him to snap.

In a flash, Jason grabbed the hand that was on his shoulder, whipped Crane around - there was a loud crack as Jason broke Crane’s arm. The egghead types who were working on the formula all paused; some of them gasped or hid behind things, but none of them were brave enough to intervene. Jason shoved Crane’s face into the monitor, cracking it out like a spider’s web but never fully obscuring the image of that dark, cold warehouse - the place where you were alone and terrified.

He twisted Crane’s broken arm, making a sound like glass grinding in on itself, and the man let out a howl.

“I think you forget how this works.” Jason barked at him, his voice so dark with rage that it almost sounded like he was wearing Red Hood’s voice modulator even though his helmet was on the floor at Crane’s feet. “When dogs get pissed off - they bite.”

He twisted the injury again, and Crane let out another bitter howl.

Jason demanded to know where you were, and Crane squeaked out an address. It was in the industrial district, so it checked out in Jason’s mind. It didn’t seem like a trap or a false answer to waste his time.

Jason shoved the pathetic, useless man to the ground, kicked him in the gut for good measure, and then leaned down to grab his helmet before shoving it on. He would need it in case Crane had anybody stationed there, guarding you.

Crane shouted something at him as he walked away, but Jason was barely paying attention - now very singular minded on his mission toward you.

“You have to learn to play by the rules, Red!” Crane choked out. “You won’t like how this ends! I made you! I fucking made you!”

…

Jason was surprised to find the building empty. No guards, seemingly no bombs, no gas canisters. At first, he thought it really was a trick, a misdirect to waste his time. But when he had just about given up hope of finding you, searching one of the back most rooms that used to serve as overflow storage for Ace Chemicals - he found you. Concrete and anonymous, some of the beams having eroded away in places from improper chemical storage.

When you saw him stalking toward you - his gun drawn, heavy boots thudding against the floor, modulator puffing out heavy, mechanical breaths - you let out a terrified whimper past the duct tape and more tears flowed freely down your face.

Jason felt a twinge of guilt. Of course. You had no clue it was him.

Perhaps he could get away with the mercy of never revealing himself to you. He could keep his mask on, release you, drop you back off with the Titans and then leave town. But eventually, Dick would tell you who he was.

At the very least, he could give you the comfort of seeing a familiar face after the hell you had been through. You were wearing a sweatshirt and simple cotton pants, and running shoes - it looked like you had been plucked off the street during a jogging session. He could only imagine how much Crane’s lackeys had scared you.

Once he was confident that the area was secure, he holstered his gun and then reached up, removing the face mask from his helmet and tossing it aside.

“Hey, hey, it’s me.” He told you - attempting to be gentle and soothing in his voice.

He approached you slowly, not wanting you to be scared as he reached to his belt for a knife - only with the intention to cut the ropes around your torso, wrists, and ankles.

He watched your expression as you flashed through a range of emotions - deep confusion, a bit of relief, sadness, and then strangely - burning anger. You glared at him with the most intense rage he had ever seen from you - more intense even than the day you had stormed into his room and called him stupid and suicidal for going after Doctor Light without backup.

Jason was slightly afraid of the lecture that would come next, but nonetheless, he knelt beside you and began cutting you free.

The minute that one of your hands was free, you reached up and ripped the duct tape off your mouth. You took only a fraction of a second to wince in pain from the tender skin of your lips being disturbed before you began verbally tearing into him.

“Jason Todd!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, so loudly that Jason was sure some of the edges of the corroded concrete pebbled off and fell down just from this. “Jason fucking Todd! I should have known you had something to do with this!”

“Wh-?”

Before Jason could question your odd choice of words or even recognize it as an accusation, you raised your other freshly free hand and slapped him squarely across the cheek - it was a hard, skull-shaking clatter. It had Jason dizzy, falling back onto his ass and dropping the knife before he could finish cutting the ropes around your legs.

“Fucking ow!” Jason griped, reaching up to grab his now very red cheek.

“You are such an asshole! Of all the completely idiotic, stupid things you have ever done-”

“I didn’t fucking kidnap you! Okay? I didn’t do shit!” Jason quickly argued back, finally now realizing that you thought he had put you here in the first place. “I’m here to rescue you!” He said each of these words slowly, looking you in the eyes, hoping that his point would get across more firmly this way.

There was a tense moment as you stared back at him with your jaw locked. It was likely that if your feet hadn’t still been tied, you would have run away - or kicked him. Jason was thankful that you couldn’t do either at the moment.

“Why?” You asked, finally breaking the tension.

“What?” Jason gaped.

This was the last thing he had been expecting.

He was saving you - why were you questioning him?

“Why are you ‘rescuing’ me?” You asked, taunting his phrasing of it with a mocking tone and large air quotes. He now regretted freeing your hands. “So you can bargain me off to Dick for ransom money? So you can put a bomb in my chest?”

You said the last part with intense disdain, tears dancing in your eyes.

So you did know what a monster he was.

He was surprised that you hadn’t hit him harder.

Jason heaved a sigh. He reached over and picked up the knife, very slowly, very tentatively resuming cutting the ropes on your legs to free you.

“I’m just freeing you so that you can be free. That’s it.” He said quietly, defeat lacing through every inch of his voice. “You don’t deserve this.”

He cut the last rope and folded the knife, sticking it back in his belt. He stood up then and caught a glimpse of your face - you were wearing the most complex expression he had ever seen. Perhaps confusion, perhaps anger. Maybe somewhere deep in your eyes - hurt.

He turned and moved to leave, hoping you would simply follow him out of the confusing maze of the building and he wouldn’t have to drag you out kicking and screaming.

“That’s not an answer.” You told him, your tone sharp and certain - the same tone you always used to correct him.

Jason whipped back around then, heaving a sigh as he looked at you - standing in the middle of the room now, arms folded over your chest, glaring at him on the spot. Cocky and so sure about yourself. Too damn certain and immobile in your points. Infuriating.

“Why the fuck do you have to make everything so damn complicated?” Jason shot back, annoyance and dread tight in every inch of him. “Why do you have to interrogate me about every damn thing that I do?”

“Because you make stupid ass decisions when I don’t.” You easily fired back. “Now tell me: why are you doing this?”

“Because I wanted to.” Jason huffed.

“Why?” You prodded again.

He let out another hot huff, and you didn’t let it go.

“Come on Jason!” You shouted, increasing in volume as you became more frustrated with his lack of an answer. “You didn’t just develop a conscience all of a sudden! Why did you feel the need to suddenly drop everything and come to my rescue? What makes me different than Hank? What makes me different than-?”

It was the annoyance grinding on him. It was a combination of your nagging voice, the lack of drugs in his system for the first time in weeks. The rawness of the world ragging on his last good nerve. The sound of your voice putting him in line - exactly where he was supposed to be. The way you reminded him of the truth now more than ever.

“Because I’m in love with you!” Jason shouted.

It was almost… angry. It was a declaration that hit you like a whip - more like an insult than something warm and kind. It wasn’t made of sweetness, like some moment from a film with a gentle piano riff wrapped around it. It was real - made of the haunting kind of passion that kept Jason awake at night.

Your eyes widened. Jason’s breathing stilled as he waited for you to react - to say something.

“Oh.” Your voice cracked around this syllable, and your eyes danced with more tears.

Jason felt his own heart crack apart inside of his chest, more terror flooding him.

He had died with the secret because he had never wanted to live up to the embarrassing vulnerability of confessing it. In the deepest part of his mind, he had lived this horror a thousand times. Him finally creeping out onto the edge of oblivion - speaking those words. Confessing. And then you stabbing him in the heart, rejecting him.

The reality of it ripped through him so much harder than it ever had in his nightmares.

Any last tiny piece of his soul that had survived being murdered by the Joker had just been shattered by you.

“Yeah. Fucking oh.” Jason echoed back, his own tears clutching at his throat.

Seeing him with that naked vulnerability dancing behind his eyes - it reminded you of the same person who came back from being kidnapped by Doctor Light. It reminded you of the real Jason you had gotten to know.

In that moment, it all came crashing toward you. You gasped harshly as you could barely breathe around it.

That hole in your chest had been shaped like a lover - it had been shaped like him. Filled with the pain of letting him get hurt, leaving him alone in Gotham to be murdered by the Joker. Filled with the doubt and confusion of never knowing what could have been between the two of you if you had chased those flirtations a little bit farther.

And now, he was standing right here in front of you, somehow perfectly alive and well - and there was only one possible thing you could do.

“Jason.” You gasped out his name, unable to fathom more words.

Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed both sides of his face, one of them still singed with a burning ache where you had slapped him so hard - and you pulled him into a kiss, hard.

It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t dainty or smooth like some Hollywood love confession - it was hungry. Bordering on feral as you both fought to consume more of the other person, bleeding out little moans and fighting for breath past each other’s lips. Jason’s hands rushed to embrace you, wrapping around your back and grabbing a needy, possessive handful of your ass while you kept your grip tight on his face, keeping his face forcefully close to your own as you devoured his mouth.

You felt some of his tears escape - such a rush of emotions making him raw and unable to hold them back, and you moaned pitifully into his mouth as he wetness slipped underneath your palms. Whatever it was - his pain, his pleasure; you would take it. He was all yours now.

…

Far off, on the other side of Gotham, Crane chuckled quietly to himself as he watched the scene unfold. He had pulled up the camera feed on a separate tablet, seeing as Jason had used his head to crack the monitor. With his broken arm bound in a temporary sling, he used his one good hand to pull something out of a drawer - a remote with a single button.

“For these violent delights have violent ends,” He recited to himself, still grinning widely as he looked at the two lovers in the grainy, black and white footage. “And in their triumph, die like fire and powder. Which as they kiss, consume. Even the sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness, if the taste confounds the appetite.” Crane poised his finger on the button. “Therefore, love moderately.”

He pressed down, and dissolved into more epic laughter as he watched what came next.

…

You were only human, and you could only kiss Jason for a few minutes before your brain demanded oxygen. As much as you hated to pull away from the sweet, bruising sting of his lips, you forced yourself back and immediately took in a sharp breath that turned into a rolling pant - Jason let out a needy whine in protest.

With his arms holding you so securely and the dizzying heat now flowing through you - you almost didn’t catch it. But it was there, in the background, something steadily present that wasn’t there before.

Beeping. A small, electronic beeping.

“Do you hear that?” You asked Jason, squinting your eyes with confusion and looking around, trying to find the source of the noise.

He did hear it.

“Fuck.” Jason mumbled.

Panic flooded him. The whole thing had been a trap.

He pulled away from you hesitantly and grabbed his mask up off the ground, snapping it back on.

“We have to go. Now.” He told you, his voice now sharp and robotic through the voice filter as he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away - you became limp to his direction for once and simply followed, fear tight in your gut once again.

Jason didn’t want to consider the possibilities, but he knew it could be anything from a large bomb, meant to tear you to shreds, to a large dose of fear gas waiting to be deployed. And he didn’t have an antidote at the moment. He needed to get you out of the building and transport you to safety.

When the two of you came to a door - one of the many that Jason had passed through on his way in - it snapped shut in Jason’s face. It was on some kind of mechanical locking system, that much was apparent. Jason rushed forward, trying to pry it open - but it was welded steel, and it wouldn’t budge.

Jason heard more slamming - more metal forcing itself shut on the same locking system.

“Jason?” You croaked, that unsure terror back in your voice again. Something so rare for you. You were looking to him for answers. You were looking to him to rescue you.

Overhead, the last bits of light were shut out - glimpses of the street lights outside - as thick metal shudders collapsed down over the windows. The room was sealing itself shut, becoming air tight.

“Stand back.” Jason told you, not waiting to see if you followed the instruction before he pulled out one of his guns and began shooting at the door’s heavy metal hinges. He knew it was futile and he feared that one of the bullets might ricochet off and hit you, but he didn’t have many options left.

Then he heard it. The gentle hissing of gas being released into the air.

Jason was naive to have hoped that it was Crane’s classic Fear Gas - that would have been a merciful walk in the park compared to what he had planned for you. Betraying Jonathan Crane meant that Jason had to be truly punished.

Jason turned to you, wrapping his arms around you, as if trying to shield you from the air itself - but it was too late. You began coughing and struggling to breathe, and Jason looked on with confusion as his chest twisted with guilt.

With his helmet on, he felt nothing. For the first few moments, he didn’t even understand what was going on as you gasped for air, struggling to form a word as you choked on each breath. Jason had no clue what the substance was or how he could fix it, looking on in horror as thick fog clouded around your ankles - your eyes bulging out of your head as you struggled for oxygen.

“Y/N?” Jason gasped, holding you by both shoulders as you became weaker and leaned on him. “Y/N?”

You couldn’t answer him.

You continued to wheeze, your breath hitching against your throat harshly. As the fog reached up to touch your face, it left angry, blistering marks in your skin. Unlike Jason, you had no armor to protect yourself - and somehow, Crane had turned the air itself acidic. Your eyes became wrecked with bloody red streaks and your face swelled as you continued to choke.

Jason’s insides screamed, but he felt too still.

As more of the fog touched you, some of the marks on your neck and your cheek blistered more and opened up, bleeding out pinkish bubbling puss as Jason continued to hold you - he didn’t know what else to do.

All he could do was hold you.

A harsh foam seeped out of your mouth as you choked on your last half-breath, and Jason felt a stinging pain consuming him - he wasn’t sure if it was the acidic fog finally breaching through his clothing, or the biting pain of having you limp in his arms - dead, as he huddled there on the floor.

“Come on.” Jason wept, steaming up the inside of his helmet as he recycled back his own breath now. He reached up to your cheek, accidentally skimming off a layer of your marred skin with his gloved thumb as he tried to wipe away some of the teary blood that had leaked from your eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Wake up.”

Jason simply wept. And he held you.

As he looked at the camera feed, Crane smiled.

“This is what happens when you don’t play by the rules, Red.”

...

A/N: SOOOO obviously this ending leaves us with a lot of questions - did Jason survive? I think this can be interpreted one of two ways: one, Jason did live. He managed to escape somehow, and he had scars all over his body from the acidic fog, and he enacted a very vicious, bloody, torturous revenge on Crane before going into hiding forever (or before using Red Hood to give actual justice to innocent people who needed it, his scars always a reminder of who he lost). Or - he sat there in shock and eventually choked to death as well. Or he pulled the whole 'my life is not worth living anymore' thing and just took off his helmet on purpose. So you can imagine that either of those things happened next.

Also, if you didn't catch it (or, if you're not a Saw person) - this situation was heavily inspired by the final plot twist trap in Saw X. I love the acidic fog, and I feel like Crane could be a trap guy. The Titans version of Crane could be good friends with John, imo.

Also, if you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

#sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x gn!reader #titans fanfiction #dc titans #titans x reader #dc titans fanfiction

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carmesi-butterfly · 1 year ago

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twitter

nishimura riki + fem! reader. word count 1,5k. not idols au/school au. warnings stalking (?) this one-shot is probably the most unserious thing i've ever written. not proofread.

"i checked your twitter account," said riki, trying to maintain a serious face and failing miserably, a few giggles came out of his mouth while he attempted to act normal.

"eh? that's not possible, my account is private" you looked at him with confusion, trying to decipher his weird laugh.

your twitter account has been a recurrent topic since both became friends, first of all because; who doesn't have twitter? it was the diary of the new generations, most of the teenagers had a profile in there! of course, you were one of them, but the way that you treated your account like confidential information made the japanese boy pretty suspicious.

it was a private account with no more than 15 followers, most of them probably were internet friends because it wasn't a novelty that you were not social by any means, on the contrary, you could be considered a loner, because of that, the apparent "state secret" hiding in your profile made ni-ki more than curious about what you could be secreting.

"i don't want you to get mad at me" pleaded, following that he proceeded to show you an interesting account that you knew well.

a profile named 'riri', with one of those famous headers with silly quotes you can find on pinterest and as an icon an orange cat with the emoji ☝️ referring to the recent meme that became viral, to finalize the bio was decorated with the phrase 'proud hater'. you got a request from that account just a few weeks ago, it followed most of the people you followed so it wasn't any suspicious to you, besides that's how you made a few of your friends! Following or being followed by oomfs of your oomfs, that's how social media works.

"that's you?" your voice raised annoyed and nervous, "you used that account to stalk me?!" with anger, you got up from your seat on the school rooftop.

"i wanted to know why you're hiding things from me!" his tone matched yours, being not loud enough to be heard by the other students who navigated through the school.

"if i hide things from you there's a reason!" your mood escalated from there, not only did your anger grow bigger but an immense urge to cry hit you.

“i-i know… I’m sorry y/n, i thought it would be something stupid, not that you like me”

riki brings your biggest secret into the conversation without any filter, dropping it like a not-warned bomb that fell into you and unloaded the last level of emotions you were hiding on a facade of pure rage.

now everything made sense, his giggly laugh without a reason while looking at you, the weird things he said that seemed like an inner joke you could not understand, the weird “i know your secret” he released randomly in your conversations... you thought it was all a joke! it's nishimura riki that we’re talking about. He enjoys pranking and tends to do and say weird stuff, it could be a completely normal behavior for him, but no, this time it wasn't.

“why did you think doing this was a good idea?” you claimed, hiding your face between the palms of your hands while a few tears slid down your face.

“sunoo once said that he knows you like me, so heeseung gave me the idea of stalking your accounts for any signal but your accounts are private… so he helped me by making a stalking account, i know it was wrong. i'm sorry, please don't cry” he begged after confessing everything, trying to get near you therefore he could calm you at least a little bit.

“sunoo and heeseung know?!” you blurted, your eyes opened as if you were trying to imitate an owl’s gaze, and your hands transitioned from covering your face to holding it, any similarity with ‘the scream’ by edvard munch is just a coincidence.

“the whole group knows” announced, opening the hell gates with a simple phrase.

“riki are you kidding me?! i don't care that you know even if you violated my privacy, because i would've told you sooner or later, but your friends?! how humiliating, i’m never coming to school again” and the catharsis started, a big flow of verbal vomit came out of your mouth going from ‘they're probably making fun of me right now’ to ‘i’m gonna delete all my social media and never use my phone again’ all of this accompanied by fat tears.

the poor boy felt hopeless, watching you practically going insane in front of him without knowing what to do to help you, or more reasonably: how to amend his mistake. luckily for him, his guardian angels appeared in the scene to help him, hiding behind the door of the rooftop heeseung (the one responsible for this mess) and jungwon (a heart warmed soul who wanted to help his friend) were hiding, their faces full of horror admiring the scene that was unloading in front of them. what happens next is worthy of a comedic movie. His friends started a physical and exaggerated demonstration of how he should calm you, hugging each other and emphasizing comfort acts such as back patting and forehead kissing. ni-ki would've burst out laughing if it wasn't for you crying like a baby.

“please don't cry, i’m sorry, you can beat me all you want if it makes you feel better” proposed completely seriously, while slowly without trying to upset you more he got closer, searching to imitate the “comforting” hug he saw his friends do, let's not lie… it was a bit awkward, but he tried and that's okay.

gradually you ended up relinquishing the embrace, starting by clinging to him delicately and finishing by squeezing his torso the strongest you could.

“beating you is not enough, i need you to die” your voice came out weird because of the amount of strength you were applying to the “hug”, but despite that, your head relied on his chest.

“you will suffer a lot without me!” a small laugh flew out of his mouth, refreshing the conversation. “are you still mad at me?” the nishimura looked down, searching for your face and any kind of reaction from it.

“yes” your response was cut and short, it could've worried your crush if it wasn't for the water dripping off your nose because of all the crying.

“u-uhm, i have something to tell you, maybe this will help you feel better” his heart started to beat faster and you could feel it through the hug, he cleared his throat in a way of trying to shake the nerves out, “the reason i did all of this stupid plan was that… i had hopes that you talked about me there, uhm…” a small pause to take a big breath after the confession interrupted the moment, but he quickly picked up the conversation, “my friends encouraged me to confess, specially sunoo, you know that he has a sixth sense with gossip” joked.

“you're telling me that… you did all of this because you like me?” you asked dumbfounded, the question got him more embarrassed than he already was, why did it make him sound so stupid?

he nodded, ignoring your attempt at visual contact while trying to hold back his smile. “then, do you feel better now?”

“no” denied, “but i know what can make me feel better” and after saying that, a naughty smile appeared on your face.

“what? i will buy you a lot of food from the cafeteria if that's what you want-”

his phrase got interrupted by you, who continued speaking, “do you remember… when i found that folder on your phone that had a ton of pictures of you trying to fake your muscles? how would you feel if i told your friends about it?” ni-ki’s smile disappeared instantly, now his face reflected nothing more than true terror.

in a matter of seconds, your bodies separated and you started running to the rooftop door. riki knew what you were trying to do, getting into the school, searching for his friends, and revealing his shameful secret! this can't be, but after being a bad friend things were not on his side, he tried following you the fast as he could but forgot a small detail, his friends hiding behind the gate. as soon as you got to the exit the spot where the two boys were hiding got exposed and both seemed nervous about that, but you couldn't care less.

“hi, guys! it's so nice to see you, i have something amazing to tell you!” your acting, so giggly and happy relaxed jungwon and heeseung who were scared of being scolded for spying. “did you know that riki-”

at that exact moment, the japanese covered his ears, not wanting to hear all the things you might be saying to his comrades who surely were going to make fun of him until the day he died. well, at least he can make fun of them because he got a girlfriend (even if you aren't his girlfriend yet) and they don't!

#enhypen x reader #ni ki x reader #enhypen ni ki #enhypen niki #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #ni ki fluff #ni ki imagines

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milliesfishes · 8 months ago

Note

Maybe a reverse, where Billy thinks your cheating on him. But you not?

౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly thinks you're cheating (you're not)౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

"Oomf," Billy grunted as you flung yourself into his arms, chuckling when you wrapped yourself around him, squeezing tight with no intention of letting go. "Hey there sunshine."

"Twenty days." Your words were muffled by his chest.

"Really? Coulda sworn it was nineteen," Billy smiled, bending slightly so he could wrap his arms around your waist and lift you up so you were at eye level. "Missed ya though, angel. Missed ya bad."

You gave an excited little squeal, your arms and legs both wrapped around him now. He laughed, pressing kiss after kiss onto your face. "Been missin' m' baby forever."

"Never ever leave again, not for a million years," you raised your head and smiled as he gave you a lazy little kiss.

"Let's shoot for two million, hm?" he shifted you on his hips, jostling you slightly. "'S long as you're on me like this I ain't movin'."

You buried your face into his neck, and he petted your hair, twirling strands between his fingers. "Ya in the mood to go out? Or are ya tired?"

"No! No I wanna go out with you!" you smiled and nodded enthusiastically, and Billy grinned broadly. He leaned into you, and you knocked his hat off his head so you could kiss him better.

"Alright, alright," he laughed. "Leave my hat alone."

"It was in the way." You kissed his cheeks, then his nose, nudging your own against it. "I wanna kiss you."

"Oh my poor baby," Billy swayed back and forth with you on his hips. "Goin' a whole three weeks without kisses."

"Your kisses," you corrected, bending to kiss his neck. "I want kisses and cuddles and-"

He mock-pouted, pressing one, two, three kisses to the bridge of your nose, then the tip, then your lips. "Good thing I got nearly a month's worth 'f kisses and cuddles to give ya."

It was hard to stop kissing him for more than a few seconds. You wanted him close, nearly depraved after his long absence.

Dozens upon dozens of kisses later, you were neatly tucked under his arm at the bar as he ordered a drink for you. You gave a smile to the bartender, who you were friendly with.

"How're you doing?" you asked in your sweet way, leaning forward on the counter.

"Can't complain," he smiled back, sliding your drink over. "Always a good night when I getta see ya, beautiful."

You giggled and Billy slid his hand around your waist. "C'mere, baby." He pulled you over to where his boys were sitting at a table, keeping you standing right against him. "Right here with me," he kissed your head. "Missed ya too much to let go of ya for more than a second."

He dug his nose into the side of your head, right below your hairline and inhaling, one of his arms holding you around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. The feeling of his big, warm hand half on your tummy made you smile. Billy's lips found the spot on your head, his nose shifting into your hair and he said, "Been missin' this spot...only place that feels like home, sunshine."

You turned around, tilting your head all the way up to look at him and smiling, your signal for a kiss. He obliged, pecking your smile once, then again and once more. You craved him like air and water, especially in times like these when he'd been gone for a long time.

Billy parted from you to find the washroom, and you wandered back over to the bartender to chat, standing on your tiptoes to lean over the counter. He laughed as he watched you. "Got somethin' to tell me?"

"You're cheeky," you smiled. "No, just wanted to see how you're doing."

"Aww, you're a sweetheart," he was cleaning a glass, and he set it down, resting his forearms on the counter. "I'm doin' good. Tara's been doin' better so things've been happier."

"You must be so excited," you said kindly when he referred to his pregnant wife.

"We are," he grinned at you. "Ya know, I've been cooking since she's been off her feet 'n I burned myself real bad." He held up his hand, showing you the red welt.

You gasped, reaching for his hand and holding it closer to you to study. "Oh my goodness. That looks so painful, are you okay?"

"It's feelin' just fine now, beautiful," he smiled at your concern and watched you study the mark. "Tara just about banned me from the kitchen after that."

"I don't blame her," you touched the mark and he winced lightly. Smiling sheepishly at your mistake, you put your hand on his arm and put his hand back on the counter. "Oh-! Sorry."

"'S all good," he laughed it off. "You're a good girl to be worried."

You were about to respond when you felt a hand wrap itself around the one of yours on the counter. Billy squeezed it, leaning down to look you in the eye. "Hey, can I talk to ya for a second?" After you nodded, he led you to one of the back rooms, shutting the door behind him.

Tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, you asked, "Is everything okay?"

Billy sucked in a breath and came closer, taking his hat off. He still held one of your hands loosely. "Darlin'...ya know I'd understand if ya didn't want to be with me anymore, right?"

Frowning, you tilted your head, his words seeming to come out of the blue. "What?"

"I love ya," he said sincerely, searching your eyes and putting his hat on a nearby table so he could take your other hand and squeeze it. "I know it's hard to be an outlaw's sweetheart. I know I'm gone for long periods of time...if ya found someone else who could take better care of ya I wouldn't be mad. I just want ya to be happy."

Nothing about his confession made sense to you. Your elbows unbent so you were still holding his hands, but further down so you could step closer to him, your face close to his. "Billy. What are you talking about?"

He tilted his head, his face falling a little as he looked at you. "Pretty. Whatever thing you've got goin' on with the bartender."

Your lips parted as his gentle accusation hit you. You shook your head slightly at the absurdity of the statement. "Billy-"

"I know I was just gone for a long while," Billy squeezed your hands. "It ain't my business what you were doin'-"

"Billy!" you burst out, putting a stop to it. He frowned confusedly.

Squeezing his hands back and standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a single kiss to his lips. "Billy. There's nothing going on with me and him."

He was confounded. "There's not?"

"No," you shook your head, smiling softly. "There's not."

Billy still looked like he didn't understand. "But you were...you were holdin' his hand...looked like you were flirtin' cause you were all smiley..."

"Oh, Billy, Billy." you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. You felt terrible for making it seem like you'd been unfaithful. "My love. I'm so sorry it looked like I was doing something bad." You pulled back to look into his eyes. "I would never, ever do that to you. I love you so much."

He melted a bit at that. "He's just a friend?"

"We were just talking about his wife," you promised, and he lightened up at that. "She's having a baby. He was showing me his hand because he was cooking for her and he burned himself real bad."

Billy heaved a sigh of relief, sliding his arms around you under yours and squeezing you tight. He kissed your hair and you smiled.

"I'm sorry," you breathed, and he dipped his head to kiss you. "I know sometimes I get a little touchy with people and it looks bad."

"It's alright sunshine," Billy cooed, lifting you off your feet and swaying you back and forth lightly. "You're a sweet girl...I shoulda known you were just makin' nice."

You looked up at him, happy to be bundled in his arms. Billy rested his cheek on the top of your head. "Sweet girl...'s gonna getcha in trouble someday."

Giggling, you burrowed into him and kissed his neck where you could reach. "Lock me up."

"We got enough to worry about with me gettin' locked up," Billy teased, stroking your hair. His nose found the spot below your hair again and he breathed in. "Yeahh, there we go. Home. Smells like home."

come talk about billy here!

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid imagine #billy bonney #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney x you #william h bonney #milliesfishes billy

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thecapricunt1616 · 1 year ago

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The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 12

♡ Chapter Inspo: Lyrics; Enjoy The Silence (Depeche Mode) - Words like violence, break the silence, come crashing in- into my little world. Painful to me, pierce right through me, can't you understand? All I ever wanted, all I ever needed, Is here in my arms. Words are very unnecessary, they can only do harm…

♡ Summary: Winnie x Carmy have deep talks, Carmy ends up running away & having a panic attack, Syd being the pookie pie she is brings Winnie to therapy, they share big news & Syd is anxious (but, what's new there?)

♡ W/C: 9,600

♡ Posted Date: 03/08/2024

♡ A/N: Hey everyone! No smut in this chapter, but lots of angst!! We finally get to see Syd bc I was talkin to a Tumblr OOMF & I just HAD to put in some Syd this week, & she slipped right in there perfectly! We will be back with some super sweet fluff next week, I need to keep you on your toes - this is about Carmen the most anxious person on earth after all hahahha

♡ Warnings for BTC: Smoking, Swearing, Angst, Talk of suicide, Panic attacks, Bad coping skills *not edited :)*

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯

After a shower that surprisingly didn’t end in another round, and a heavy make out when he came out of the bathroom to see me clad in nothing but his white shirt and a pair of panties, we had gotten comfortable in bed again, my fairy lights back on.

We were laid facing eachother, fingers intertwined, sharing sweet pillow talk about what we did earlier in the night. It felt so good to talk to him like this, and truth be told I felt so lucky that he was being so open about how he felt about it all.

“Y’know when-“ I giggled “when I was like- I couldn’t say anything other then yes?” I asked and he snorted a laugh, squeezing my hand softly.

“Yes why?” He gently rubs my hip with his free hand, pushing my shirt up so his palm was flat against my skin.

“Cause- well I couldn’t even wrap my head around it, I just knew that you were doing exactly what I wanted, but more so you were saying what I wanted. Like- Bear. I am so amazed with you and your ability to like- learn so fast. You’re like actually the best lay I’ve ever ever had. For real, honest to god.” I said, gently rubbing my thumb over his now very warm and pink cheek.

He swallowed thickly, thinking for a moment, eyes fluttering shut under my gentle touch. “Can I tell y’somethin, baby?” he asked quietly. I leaned forward, resting my forehead on his, my hand trailing up his face and fingers getting lost in his damp curls.

“Anything, Carmy.” I whispered, gently nuzzling our noses sweetly “I want you to tell me everything baby” I whispered and he leaned forward, kissing me gently. When he pulled his lips away, his forehead still on mine. My eyes flutter open to meet his blue ones. He takes a deep, shaky breath.

“I-I’ve never felt like this..and I’m really fuckin’ scared” he bit his lip, squeezing my hip gently. I cupped his jaw, planting a lingering gentle kiss on his forehead before resting my own against him again.

“Do you remember, last week, when you told me you wanted me to show you how it feels?” I whisper and I could have sworn he stopped breathing for a moment.

“N-no- no…how…it’s too soon” he pulls away a bit and I let him do so, squeezing his hand affirmingly.

“How fast do you hate someone?” I asked after he sat silent for a moment, and the look behind his eyes was clear that he was far off somewhere else, so I had to say something to get him back.

“What?” He asks, attention back to me. “Why does that matter?” He begins untangling our fingers and I rest my other hand over his to stop him.

“Because. There is such a thin line between love and hate, Carm. I can tell you hate with a deep, guttural, soul-splitting passion. When you hate something, you hate it…and when you love something” I said and he gently curled his fingers around mine again, rubbing his thumb in strokes along the back of my hand.

“How are you like that” he whispers, pulling me to his chest and nuzzling his face in my neck, his lips pressed to my skin and warm puffs of breath tickling the fleshy spot between my shoulder and my neck.

I smiled, my hand absentmindedly coming up and lacing my fingers through his curls, scratching his scalp gently in the places I’d come to know he liked. “Like what, Bear?” I whisper, just as soft. It felt like we were the only people in the world. Sleep wasn’t needed in our little haven, I felt like I couldn’t miss a single moment of him.

“That.” He breathes into my skin, peppering sweet, warm kisses along my skin. “You always fuckin’…just…calm me down. It’s so fuckin’ terrifying” he mutters, a small smile comes to my lips and I kiss his temple sweetly.

“You calm me down too, but you also make my heart race so much even when I think about you, I worry for myself sometimes…like I’m havin’ a heart attack. Like my heart literally skips. And I didn’t understand what people meant until I met you” I said with a small giggle and he snorts a laugh into my skin.

“I can’t think about you when I’m not with you- well…that’s a lie…I can’t think about how I feel about you when I’m not with you” he said softly, his thumb gently rubbing over the scar on my hip.

“Why?” I asked quietly, gently dragging my fingers through his hair in slow, backwards strokes.

“Cus’ I’ll give myself a fuckin panic episode or whatever it’s called if I think about it for too long.” He mumbled into my neck and I swallowed thickly.

“Cause…you like me, right?” I asked and he lets out a chuckle.

“Sooooo far past like, but sure. I don’t even know what to call it, but I more then like you. But- I…I also hate feeling like this..cus’…cus’ I feel- I feel like I’m gonna fuck everything up. Like…what if I’m so focused on us that I fuck up the restaurant? Or- or what if I lose my touch. Or fuckin’ I dunno. Somethin’ in me just like-“ he sighs. “I need a fuckin’ cigarette.” He sits up, back facing me, leaving me cold on my side and I pout.

“Alone?” I ask quietly, wanting to reach out for him.

“No- no baby come w’me cmon. Put on some pants though yeah? It’s freezin’ “ he said, grabbing his sweatpants and putting them on as well as his usual plaid brown jacket.

I got up, opening my dresser and pulling out some pink fuzzy hello kitty pajama bottoms, tugging them on before putting on my fuzzy pink bear socks along with my Ugg slippers and grabbing my well loved Winnie the Pooh zip up, putting it over his tshirt and putting up the hood. “We can go on the balcony” I said softly, going over and unlocking the door.

He slipped his sneakers on, following me out and sitting down on one of the chairs. “C’mere” he pats his lap and I come over, gently sitting and wrapping my arms around him once he got his cigarettes out and grabbing his lighter from his pocket. Once he popped it between his lips, I lit it for him, gently playing with the curls at the base of his neck and watching as he took a drag.

“I just feel…like- and I-i know what you’ll say- cause you’ve told me already like a hundred times- but…I feel like, I’m finally sacrificing a little of myself for myself and…I feel like I don’t deserve to? Like…I-i-im betraying myself? and-“ I cup his cheek, stopping his rambling.

“Why is it betrayal, baby? What about letting yourself feel for once is a betrayal?” I asked and he took another long drag, mulling the question over.

“Cause’ that part of me that tells me it’s betrayal T’myself t’be happy is the same part of myself that says people always leave and it’s always right. And it tells me…like- like- everyone is gonna be so mad at me when I fuck up with you and then lose you and I also have been like- not on top of my shit with the restaurant. So like I’m- I’m fuckin over Nat, and Richie, and Marcus, and Tina, and Syd. I’m fuckin’ em, Win. For me to be happy. Leavin’ em with all this bull that I’m used to handling so I can run off and play boyfriend until you fuckin’ realize that-“

“Hey, hey, hey” I said softly, cutting his spiral before it could get too deep. “Let’s unpack this baby, so you…you feel like, if you were to fall in love- not even with me. Let’s take me out of this equation. So you think that if you were to have a lover, like a real, intimate, partnership, like- building your life with someone. And that because as a human you have to have a work-life balance, that if your life cuts in to your work, just like your work is expected to cut in to your life once in a while- you believe that everyone in your life, Your big sister, your closest friends, and Syd? Syd. The girl who every person in her life she just wants them to be happy? Like it actually brings her to tears. She fuckin sat with me and Sadie for eleven hours on a FaceTime call, helping us get our Taylor tickets when she didn’t even want to go. And she cried with us when we finally got them. Syd loves you, Carm. As a friend. And knowing Syd, how she loves her friends? Its pure. So if you can’t believe any of the other people you mentioned would be anything short of happy if you were to have an actual life outside of work, it would be Syd. Also- you” I poke his cheek, thankfully earning a tiny upturn of his lips with the action.

“You, sir” I continue “are a control freak. Yes, it’s hot a lot of the time. But then the other 10-15% of the time…all it does is fuck everything up Carmy. When you try to fuckin’ control every situation with an iron fist something is bound to go wrong. Syd is so smart. She was smart before you got her, and she’s even smarter because you’re teaching her, Carm. You said it yourself- she’s your right hand. Is Syd not your right hand, lovey?” I asked him softly, gently massaging his tense shoulders.

Blew a trail of smoke away from me, being sure not to let any get directly in my face, before clearing his throat. “Ye’. She is” he muttered, slightly relaxing under my touch.

“S’what does that mean, baby? D’you trust yourself? Do you trust that you’ve taught Syd, and Richie, and Fak, and Natalie, and Tina how you want your restaurant to be run? What if somethin’ happened to you tomorrow god forbid- d’you think The Bear would crash and burn?” I asked and he shook his head lightly in response, pushing his cigarette out in the ash tray.

He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into his chest. “No- no…that’s actually..” he sighs, looking ahead at the cityscape. “I think about that- like…a lot…well- more before I met you I guess…but- t’day” he swallowed thickly and I kept my gaze locked on his side profile.

“T’day I thought about it again…and y’re right. If I was removed…everything would probably run smoother. Because like you said. I’m an efficient son of a bitch because of how tightly I control shit, but sometimes I do too much and- a lot I think like…what if I’m holding The Bear back.” He muttered and I gently stroked his cheek with my thumb, both of us going quiet. I gnawed on the inside of my lip nervously, contemplating how he’d react- but knowing how he feels about himself…I had to allow him to see his situation from the outside.

“D’you wanna know something I’ve been thinkin’ about…but…I didn’t wanna tell you cus’ I’ve been scared it’ll get you worked up for the wrong reasons?” I ask just above a whisper and his gaze finally meets mine again.

“Tell me” he said, “I promise- I don’t think I could ever stay mad at you, honey” he said leaning in and kissing my cheekbone lightly.

I took a deep, regulating breath. “When Sugar drove me home…I dunno I just had this- I was…I was just curious. And I asked her, I was like oh- who started to call him Bear, and- she told me that it was Mikey…” I watch his jaw tighten slightly and I swallow thickly, finding the confidence to continue. “And she- she told me…that um..you- you went to New York. Because you and Mikey kinda…grew apart. But that when you were young you both- you…The Bear was gonna be yours together.” I manage to get out and he closes his eyes taking a deep shakey breath.

“What does this have to do with what I said, Winnie.” He said evenly, but his breath trembling.

“I…I think-“ I play with my zipper nervously. “I think Mikey felt the same way… I think- he…he felt like you’d be better off because of the way he did things a-“ my voice breaks, tears coming to my eyes. “and he saw you Carmen…he saw you. Sugar told me she- she said…she said he was so proud, but he- he wouldn’t say it. And- and I think…I think he-he was scared. I think-“ he cuts me off.

“S’what? Y’think he fuckin’ killed himself because he thought I was better than him?! When he wouldn’t even fuckin’ let me work at Mom and Dad’s piece a’ shit - before I fuckin’ went off to prove myself to him.” He said, voice sharper than I’d ever heard him speak towards me before, but still cracking towards the end.

“Carmy…” I whispered, my throat feeling tight at the sudden energy shift.

“I think he always saw the greatness in you, but like you he didn’t think he deserved to be apart of the success he knew someone he loved was destined for. He saw you. Carmy. He fucking loved you so fucking much. The way-“ I took a trembling breath, tears staining my cheeks. “The way he loved you was pure Carmen. You said you- you haven’t felt it but it’s just- it’s been around you this entire time baby. Sugar told me how you two were, she gushed over the trouble you’d get into together and how he’d always walk you to school. Just how fucking kind he was and all the ways you take after him.” I wiped away the tears that were pooling in his eyes.

“I-“ he choked on a sob. “I have to go on a walk- p-please. Alone.” He took in a shaking breath, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut, tears pooling down his cheeks. “I h-have to think” he sniffled.

I wipe his tear-stained cheeks. “Just be safe ok?” I whispered, kissing his temple gently before getting up off his lap.

He nodded, grabbing his cigarettes and going back in to put a shirt on. I sat down in the chair, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my cheek on my knee, looking out at the city scape, my mind reeling with thoughts. The main one that kept bouncing from corner to corner or my mind like a god damn dvd video logo.

You sunk too deep, too soon. He’s not coming back.

𝒞𝒶𝓇𝓂'𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱.🧸

I pulled the door behind me slightly harder than I meant to, the slam echoing throughout the hallway. I dug my cigarettes out of my pocket, the second I got into the stairwell lighting it with shaking hands.

Really, Bear. If you ever feel it's getting too much - call, okay?

Sugars words bounced around my head as I pounded down the stairs, feeling like I couldn't breathe. Sure. The thick hot smoke I was inhaling didnt help the matter, but- fuck - the only thing that could allow me to speak fuckin normally in this state, was if I had a cigarette to pull on.

I shove open the door so hard that it slams against the brick, causing an elderly woman and her white fluffy dog to jump. “Ooh!” she exclaims, putting her hand over her heart at the sudden noise.

“S’rry Ma’am” I muttered, pulling my hood over my head as I walked by, looking at my feet as I fished my phone out while I took a drag of my now lit cigarette. With my free hand, I popped the cigarette out of my mouth and let out a shaky exhale as I unlocked my phone with shaking fingers.

Where the fuck am I going right now?

I click the phone icon, clicking Sugars number and putting the phone to my ear as I listen to the ring and my heavy footsteps, inhaling another heavy drag. Surprisingly, it was only 2 rings before she answered.

“God damn it Bear, y’re lucky I shut my ringer off before Livy woke up- Whats goin’ on?” she whisper-shouts into the phone. I stopped, leaning against the chainlink fence cutting off the empty lot a block down from Winnies apartment. I wanted to crumple and sob at the sound of her voice.

“N-Nat?” I stutter in to the phone, my voice shaky, feeling just like I sounded as a fuckin’ kid, knocking at her door after Mom yelled at me for knocking her drink over.

“Carmy-” she said, voice much softer then before and I heard her front door click open, car keys jingling. “Bear, where are you - let me help you, Bear, please, tell me- where are you?” she pleads.

I took a deep shuddering breath, crouching down against the fence with my head in my hands, the only thing stopping my hand from shaking being pressing the phone to my ear.

“Y’remember - d’you-” I took the phone away from my ear, slapping my palm against my forehead roughly in frustration. I cant fuckin’ speak right now. Fuck. And it feels like I’m gonna throw up.

“Bear” I heard her say through the phone as I frustratedly rubbed my hand over my face, pushing tears away angrily to try and ground myself.

How the fuck did Winnie make me feel like this? What the fuck? Why am I not mad at her for making me feel like this?

“Nat- Nat…Nat” I try catching my breath, “Nat, Im fuckin’ im cashin’ in- w-when you told me t’call you if im- if… “ I look up briefly, rubbing my hand over my mouth to soothe back a sob, my eyes meeting the ‘For Rent’ sign of the empty lot I was kneeled infront of pathetically.

“Uh-I’m-I’m a-at- tw-” I pull the phone away and cough, my lungs burning. The mix of crying uncontrollably, thick mucus, and cigarettes, proving once again to be deadly- if not at least extremely irritating to my throat when I’m like this.

“Twenty-five north Wells, near Winnies” I breathe out, slumping down into a heap on the sidewalk, curling into myself.

If someone I know walks by, I’m actually going to end it, fucking tonight.

“Stay, stay right there, I’m coming Bear” I heard her car door slam shut, before the engine roared to life.

“Thanks” I mumble in to the phone and hung up, dropping my phone in my chest pocket and hugging my knees.

I look like a fuckin child, pathetic and rediculous.

But my swirling, self deprecating thoughts didn’t stop me from shaking with silent sobs as I mulled over the words Winnie said minutes earlier, sticking to my brain like velcro.

‘ He always saw the greatness in you, but like you he didn’t think he deserved to be apart of the success he knew someone he loved was destined for. He saw you, Carmy. ‘

I shook my head at the thought, wiping the never ending stream of tears from my raw cheeks. “Fuckin, get it together quit bein a pussy” I muttered to myself, sniffling and standing up, shaking my hand by my side roughly, hearing the joint crack with each flick as I paced back and forth quickly, uncontrollably gasping breaths taking over my lungs in place of sobs as I swallowed everything back.

I refused to be sniveling like a little bitch when I got in Nat’s car. I’m not fuckin’ 7 anymore. I clear my throat, looking up at the sky as I pace, trying to find anything to pop in my mind other then the racing thoughts of Mikey, and the overwhelming guilt that I somehow killed him by leaving.

I was so lost in attempting to chill the fuck out - that I didn’t even hear Natalie’s SUV pull up. What pulled me out of my head was the sound of her car door slamming.

“Bear- fuckin’ Jesus Carmen, thank god Y’re alright buddy, you scared me fuckin’ shitless” she comes up to me, hugging me tightly and nestling her face in my chest. “I love you, i love you, I love you Carmen. I don’t tell you enough, but I love you, ok? So so fucking much. Y’re still my little bud. Y’know that, right? Y’re gonna be my little buddy forever” She mutters.

And with that, I cracked once again. “Nat” I whisper, before completely breaking down in her arms, sobbing into her shoulder. She hugs me tighter, rubbing circles into my back soothingly.

“Oh, Bear…” she whispered sadly into my hair, “tell me, tell me Carm.” She said and I tried to catch my breath.

“I- fuck- holy fuck. I- I needa sit…please. D-do you have water?” I cough hard into my arm. Fuckin cigarettes only fuck me up this bad when I’m like this.

“Carm, fuckin’ breathe - holy shit. Yes, c’mon” she tugs my sleeve and I got on the passanger side, immediately grabbing her large purple cup that of course was just like Winnie’s-

Since the universe is determined to cackle at my demise at every beck and turn.

-but I got past it due to my mouth that was so dry it felt glued, and chug down about half of the cup by the short time she’d sat in the driver seat and set the cup back down with a sigh.

“Glad to see you found the water” she said, turning the engine over so we wouldn’t freeze. “So. Cmon. Let’s go. code hiccup..this must be serious” she said, bringing a small, barely there smile to my lips.

Code hiccup was what she called her mandatory chats with me as a kid, when I’d get so fuckin’ worked up that I’d be hiccuping as I cried since I could barely breathe. And during these, she told me ‘as an older sister she has authority to make me tell her what’s bothering me.’ - she’d only ever called one of these when I was at the very wits end of my breaking point, so I never fought her on it.

I look at her “Mikey- Winnie- she -hic- she…what the fuck did you say t’her, Nat?” Ok, so I guess I still get so worked up I fuckin’ hiccup.

“Carm, what? Thats why you’re all fuckin’ upset?! Cause I told her a few childhood stories, and told her about how much he missed you when you were away? How close you both were? You knew that already. I told you that! I tried calling, Bear. You fuckin iced me out the same way he did t’you” she shook her head.

“No- n-no she -hic- she…she said” I took a shaking breath, swallowing back the lump in my throat that was threatening to make a reappearance. “Why would she ever say I -hic- take after him? W- -hic- we both know that Mikey-“ I shook my head, looking out the window. “Was better at fuckin everything. He was normal.” I said quietly.

“Carm, you are so much like him- you take after him in so many ways. The good and the bad.Other then the….the end for him, you were the same. We practically raised you, Carm, if anyone knows you its me, and it was Mike. How you’re so selfless in forgoing your own pleasures for the sake of others, your passion, Carm, your passion for your family, your passion for cooking? He missed you…but- I could tell he wanted you to just…do your own thing” she said, holding her cup in her lap and twirling the straw anxiously.

“He knew Nat, he knew how much it h-hic-hurt me, when he fuckin…” I shook my head, closing my eyes tightly as tears pricked at the corners.

“Bear I need you to hear me when I say this and not take it the wrong way…” she whispered and I looked at her, swallowing thickly.

“A few months after you left…we were talking, and- he…he told me that…” she shakes her head, looking at her lap. “He told me that unless he kicked you out hard enough, you’d be too…soft to make it, like- that… that you wouldn’t be angry enough to get where you needed to go, to pull yourself up. He said that…that in the kitchen industry..you cant be so openly in love with cooking like you were…that to succeed you had to be serious about it, that it wasn’t about love, its about perfection. So he- he did that because he thought that he was helping you- but..but loving and being soft isn’t a bad thing Bear, and I wanted to fuckin wallop him over the back of the head for ever even thinking like that, but he told me…where you were going- where you were destined to go…you’d never had made it if he- if…he held your hand like he always did.” her eyes finally met mine once more.

I was just sitting there, dumbfounded, hiccups escaping my lips every so often a stears silently streamed down my cheeks. “Why does everyone except you and Winnie work like that, Natty?” I whispered after a long moment of silence.

“Like what, Carm?” she brushes some stray tears away from my cheek. “That in order to offer help, they need to hurt me first”

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯

I didn’t sleep at all that night, I didn’t even realize it was 6am until I got an alarm on my phone, alerting that Taylor would be hitting the stage in a few minutes.

She always helps me forget things for a little while. I’m so glad she’s starting her leg in Singapore, today.

I grabbed it off the charger hitting the stop button, and rubbing my tired eyes. “ ‘Lexa - g’morning” I said ‘Good morning’ it replied, my LED lights flicking on to a warm pinky orange.

I sat up in bed, finding my remote and switching Criminal Minds out for the morning news, before grabbing my phone and opening up the live stream of her concert. Amidst everything, i’d forgotten about Swiftball completely- not even caring much. I had went numb a few hours ago, when it would have been a reasonable walk. No, Carm went home. He had to have, the only thing left here of his was his backpack, that was laying flat on the floor since everything he’d brought to wear for the night was on his person, and his pair of Levi’s, as well as one of his white shirts.

I got up, stretching my back and listening as the lead up speech to Cruel Summer started.

“Oh! Nǐ hǎo!” she said adorably before beginning to sing, causing me to giggle.

“Adorable” I mutter to myself, turning around and picking up Persephone from her spot on Carm’s-

On the other side of my bed.

And held her like a baby. “G’mornin stinky” I said and kissed her head. She looked up at me and licked my nose, causing me to scrunch it up and smile. “Tank you for kisses smoochy, where were you last night mmm? Hidin’?” I put her back down on the bed gently and stroke her tail before grabbing my phone and heading to the bathroom.

I connected to my speaker, listening to Lover play, and rolling my eyes to myself as I start the shower and began to undress.

This therapy session is gonna be brutal. I feel it.

Nonetheless, out of habit I hummed along. I washed my body while listening to The Archer, Deep conditioned my hair, dancing around in the shower a bit to Fearless, it really was one of my favorite songs of hers. Probably because it was one of those songs Chris and I danced to a billion times together in my room with my little hello kitty CD player my mom had gotten me as my christmas present at a garage sale one year.

I shaved my legs to You Belong With Me, and exfoliated to Love Story, smiling as I replayed all the memories of Chris turning the volume all the way up, and sitting criss-cross on my floor, his hand over the top of the CD player, feeling the hum of the lyrics and the bass while I jumped wildly on my bed and sung my heart out like I was preforming my own personal concert. We’d listened to this album so much, and I’d signed him the lyrics so much, that by the bumping of the bass and vibration of the lyrics- he knew by memory what song was playing after a while.

By the time Look What You Made Me Do was playing, I was cutting the water off from my long luxurious shower. I was convinced I’d scrubbed every touch of him off my body, out of guilt more then anything. I swoop in his life, give him these new experiences, make him feel loved, and then clawed open his deepest wound that had barely clotted yet.

He doesn’t deserve to heal on my timing because it would make our relationship easier on me. This is about us together, and the conversation we had was out of my own selfishness.

I’m torn away from my swirling thoughts from the opening lines of Enchanted, rolling my eyes in annoyance, “Oh give me a fuckin’ break.” I mutter to the universe. I finished drying myself off, trying to ignore the lyrics as I slathered my lotion on.

And now I’m pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door..

“No! No its a stupid song and I am not dramatic and this song isn’t even about anything like what happened shut UP brain” I rambled to myself, spraying on my Honey Bee body mist that had golden glitter in it, going out to my bedroom and opening my dresser.

I focused on getting dressed, putting on a black T-shirt bra and panties and heading over to my closet. I pulled out one of my favorite pairs of overalls with Pooh embroidered on them, as well as a striped tan,blue, and red turtleneck sweater i’d thrifted. I slipped on the sweater, untucking my damp hair and adjusting the collar before putting on the overalls and buckling them up.

I went back over to my dresser, pulling out some plain black ankle socks and slipping them on before grabbing my phone and heading into the bathroom. I quickly blew out my hair so my bangs wouldn’t curl up wildly, and brushed my teeth before heading out to the kitchen with Persephone on my heels as I hum along with We are Never Ever Getting Back Together

This is the energy I need to take on for his sake.

I sighed to myself as I took out one of my iced coffee glasses, stuffing it with ice before putting it under the coffee machine & brewing a strong latte.

I had nothing to make for breakfast, and did not feel like going to the store- so I just decided to skip it and grab some McDonald’s on my way home from therapy later. I wandered off to my craft room, looking over various projects I’d started and contemplating what I wanted to throw myself into today.

Something…intricate.

I knew just the thing. I opened up the closet, pulling out the bodice mannequin that was dressed in my half done replica of Taylor’s Midnight Rain bodysuit. I had scoured google for days finding the perfect colors of beads, finding the best threads that wouldn’t snap, the best sequins. I saved up for 3 months, after my last Taylor concert- because Sadie and I agreed that we’d be watching for more Tickets to her Miami show, because it was so good when we went we had to do it again.

I hum along to The Last Great American Dynasty as I prepared my sewing needle, getting all my beads and sequins laid out. I counted out my first group of 13 beads, sewing them in a neat row one by one, having to push up my glasses on my nose every so often.

I only broke my trance when she started singing the first surprise song of the evening sparks fly. I gasped, standing up and watching closely, dancing around and singing along, squealing excitedly when she mixed in Gold Rush as well.

“Oh my god those are perfect songs together!!!” I jump happily, singing along excitedly when she got to the chorus.

“I run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild just keep on keepin’ your eyes on me it’s just wrong enough to make it feel right!! And lead me up the staircase won’t you whisper soft and slow!! I’m captivated by you baby like a firework sho-“

“Winnie?” I hear and a shriek escapes my lips in surprise. I whip around to see Carm standing in the doorway.

“Bastard” I slap my hand over my heart, attempting to catch my breath. “Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that! Jesus I almost had a heart attack!” I said, and there was the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.

“I did knock, sorry I guess it wasn’t loud enough.” He said. His eyes were bloodshot, nose red and raw from being rubbed. His curls were a mess of broken waves from running his hands through them so much.

“I thought…” I turn the volume on my phone down. “I- I thought you…went home.” I said, biting the inside of my lip nervously.

“What? No..no. I’m sorry, I- I had to think…I uh- I saw Sugar, we talked. She just dropped me off cause she has to get her kid ready for school. But I feel…better, kinda.” He releases a shaky breath.

I nod, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry, I’m really, sorry, Carmen. I- I shouldn’t have said any of that t’you..it doesn’t matter how I feel about Mikey and- and how I feel about how you feel about him…it was never my place to reopen that wound. And…I-“ my voice cracks, vision going blurry with tears.

“I think I’ll only hurt you if we keep this up.” I shake my head, looking at my feet and nervously playing with my fingers.

“No- well, maybe- maybe yeah…-“ he hesitated and swallowed thickly.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hot tears running down my cheeks.

Selfish. Manipulative. Horrible. You ruin everything you touch. Why are you crying- he should be the one crying. You hurt him - you selfish greedy bitch!

I shake my head as the voices roar in my ears.

“I mean- it was a lot all at once…baby, and it was really late, and- and we had just been so close like that for the first time in bed, and that was my first time being so close to someone in bed in general. And - I…I think I was too emotionally fucked out for that and that’s why I ran. But I want you. I want this” He said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

I look up at him, sniffling. “Y-you don’t hate me now?” I whisper, my voice shakey.

“Honey” he said softly, stepping towards me and opening his arms. I felt pulled like a magnet, dropping my phone on my chair and curling my arms around him, nuzzling my face in his chest and inhaling the scent of cigarettes, sandalwood, cedar, the smallest touch of jasmine, but best of all the light tinge of him.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, Bear” I whisper over and over again into his shirt. He rubs my back in long soothing strokes.

“ it’s okay baby, I’m just…I feel alot when I with you- let’s go slow with talks like that yeah?” He mumbled in to my hair and I nod slightly against his chest.

“Thank you” I said softly and look up at him, resting my chin on his sternum.

“F’what baby?” He brushed my bangs from my eyes.

“Not leaving me.” I whisper and he bent his neck downwards, resting his forehead on mine and looking into my eyes.

“It’s a me thing - not a you thing- but…I’m really confused why I didn’t. I mean…that’s my MO usually, especially with girls. But…I dunno…I wanna keep trying this time, y’re different.” He squeezes my hips gently.

I wrap my arms around his neck loosely, “kiss me?” I ask softly and he obliges. I hum satisfied at the feeling of his lips once more, swiping my tongue across his bottom lip and he opened his mouth on contact, his tongue finding mine. I tasted a tinge of iron, and he pulled away lightly when my tongue ran over his bottom lip, feeling the raw flesh. He’s been biting the fuck out of his lips.

Our noses sweetly rub together in the tender kiss, my fingers twirling a soft blonde tuft of hair between them. He pulled away after a moment, and I looked up at him. “can we sleep baby, please” his eyes fluttered back shut, it sounded like a plea more then anything.

“Let’s go t’sleep, Bear” I intertwined our fingers, tugging him gently to the bedroom.

I’m woken by my Apple Watch buzzing on my wrist. I groan softly, looking at it ‘therapy 1 hr.!!’ The alarm read. I hit stop, carefully untangling Carmen and I, first slowly deranging our fingers, then carefully untwisting our legs, and finally ever so gently picking up his arm and rolling out of bed slowly so as to not wake him. Poor thing has only been sleeping 6 hours and he was surely up for more than 24.

I slipped his white tshirt off, dropping it on the bed and I went over to my desk, putting on my outfit that I’d taken off to nap. Then, I sat at my vanity, popping in my AirPods and listening to my metal playlist as I did some light simple makeup, brushing my long hair into a high ponytail, leaving my fringe out. My music goes soft, Siri reading out a notification.

Text from Syd the Chef kid 👩🏾‍🍳🫶: place is slow cause the rain, espresso date b4 therapy??

I smiled to myself, grabbing my phone and quickly texting back.

Plsss!! 🥹🫶 imu goddess. Need Syd time!!!

I got up, going and brushing my teeth before feeding Persephone her early dinner so she didn’t wake Carm asking for it if he slept through my appointment. I grabbed a piece of my Hello Kitty stationary and a pen, quickly writing.

Went to therapy. Be back by 4:30, please lock the door if you leave (didn’t wanna wake you, you look so sweet + handsome when you’re sleeping ♡ ) x♡x♡ - Winnie♡ :)

I quietly entered the bedroom, leaving the note on my pillow and giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead, being sure to tuck his arm into the blanket so he wouldn’t get cold and brushed his hair back before grabbing my tote and shutting the bedroom door behind me.

I check my phone to see a new text from Syd about 5 minutes ago

Be there in 10!

I grabbed her heels that id been long meaning to give back to her, quietly shutting the front door behind me and I went downstairs. By the time I was bouncing down the steps her blue optima was pulling up. I practically skipped over, it had been ages it felt since we last got to hang out. Syd brought me to therapy 3 times a week, she refused to take gas money, and told me that she didn’t want me dealing with surge pricing or risking the train.

I pop open the passenger door “you’re children” I present her heels dramatically. She laughs, taking them from my hand and tossing them in the back.

“Thank you. You only held them ransom for how many months?” She asks as I shut my door, buckling in. I laughed.

“Mmm don’t ask you know me and time” I said, putting my tote at my feet. “I fuckin missed you bitch!!! When are those James award nominations coming out?” I ask and she looks nervous.

“Last night” she said and I gasp

“SYDNEY!!! Oh my god! No- don’t tell me you haven’t looked!! You’ve been working so hard!” I tap her arm excitedly.

“I literally couldn’t bring myself to look at them that’s why I wanted to get coffee” she said putting the car in drive and turning down the main road to get on the highway.

“Dude! With all the attention The Bear has gotten since you opened last year, and like - what is it- four of the five most popular dishes are all yours!!! Bitch- Carmen should be scared! You are coming for his neck!” I laughed and she shakes her head, smiling wide.

“I know..I know..but still like..” she sighs a bit “what if it’s like it was last year…what if- like…what if they just see our success as his success..he totally deserved all the awards last year, but- that to me is all the more reason for the voting panel to hand it to him. And he’s been on like 2 podcast interviews…and he has like a whole fandom online.” She said and I grab her hand that was moving as she spoke, squeezing gently.

“Syd..Carmen isn’t a new chef- he’s already won that last year, sure he can take outstanding chef, if he’s nominated. But…” I swallow thickly. “I- I know Carm is amazing but like- cmon…Syd. You’ve been…the star of that restaurant now, the whole time you’ve been open. Carm is the handsome face that’s been media trained, yes we both know he’s a crazy genius chef mastermind- but - so are you! You’re younger then he is, and I have no doubt you’re nominated for something this year. Yeah, Carmy is getting the bear out there on social media by bein all sexy and stuff in interviews- but you are the one that’s being interviewed like weekly by those blogs and magazines” I said and her smile returns.

“You’re right, you’re totally right. Totally. Carmen can’t be nominated for emerging chef again, he already won it.” She squeezed my hand gently.

“Speaking of Carmen.” She eyes me through the rear view mirror. “Spill.” She said and I bit my lip, looking out the window as I played with my fingers nervously. “Okay. What happened.” She demands, turning the radio lower.

“I’m a idiot is what happened” I said embarrassed and pick at balls of lint on the inside of my sleeve.

“Okay and this is becauseeee…” she drawls, waiting for me to continue.

“Because I thought it’d be a good idea to try and help him realize that the reason things went the way they did with Mikey per his sister was because it sounded like Mikey was ashamed of his own skill set because of how talented Carmy was from so young, and he instead of being honest about it- took more of a tough- er- really icey love approach, and just - froze him out. Like threw him in the middle of the ocean to drown without his help for the first time and left him there. Because he thought it would make him tough. But it really just fuckin wounded him emotionally and Mikey had alot of guilt about that and - “ she interrupts my rambling.

“Dude-“ she chuckles in shock. “Dude….you said that?!” She looks at me for a short second before looking back at the road.

“Well- n-yeah? Something similar I guess in the moment when he’s looking at me with his sad blue puppy eyes I had a hard fuckin’ time getting anything coherent out. So he flipped his shit and had a panic attack and ran off to go see sugar I guess and then came back at like 7 am and told me he still wants to be with me then knocked out and was sleeping still when I left.” I said and she raised her eyebrows, thinking for a moment.

“Hmm..well- I’m surprised he came back. He said that? Those words? Tell me exactly what he said when he came back.” She said and I roll my eyes.

“Why are you the Carmy whisperer or something?” I huff lightly “he said like- ‘It was a lot at once baby it was late and we just fucked like that for the first time and I’ve never been so close to someone while I fucked them and I was too emotionally drained and that’s why I ran but I want you I want this’ “ I paraphrase from memory as best I could.

“Holy shit what did you do to him?!” She teases with a giggle causing me to start laughing too.

“What? What the hell do you mean!!” I tap her arm playfully.

“I’ve never heard Carmen say he wants something emotionally unless it had to do with the restaurant. He doesn’t give a fuck about anything. So…hm…maybe- maybe this is good for him” she said the end to herself more than anything.

I raised my eyebrows “should I be offended you thought I’d be bad for him?!” I cross my arms and she laughs.

“You? No. God no. I say that because I knew you were good for him- but I thought he was gonna run himself ragged dodging his own feelings while simultaneously doing everything he can to make you fall for him and keep you interested just like he did to me. But hey- I’m happy genuinely, Pooh that you’re getting out there again. But…fair warning- when he starts acting like an asshole- and he has periods where he’s fully a fucking asshole, I swear it’s like a fuckin’ man period- know that you are gonna be the one we’re calling to get a leash on him cause the only time he acts okay about everything going on is after he sees you.” She said and I felt my cheeks heat.

Did I really affect his attitude that much?! “Spray ‘em with a spray bottle, it works on Sephy, he’s very cat-like so I assume it’ll work on him.” I said, and we both laughed.

“Oh my god you never skipped school?!” I asked Syd as we walked up the sidewalk to the coffee shop.

“My dad would have killed me probably. What did you even do?” She asked and I laugh at all the memories.

“Oh my god so, in high school- we uh…don’t talk anymore but - my best friend her name was Jane and she had a car first, so we in sophomore year during lunch would go eat out in her car and then…usually I would convince her to skip with me, cause I’m such a devil”

She snorts a laugh “Fits” she opens the door to the coffee shop for me.

“Why thank you, but anyway we would like usually drive around and blast music. Or we’d go to my house since my mom was never home and watch movies. And then Chris would get home and we’d fight about him giving me his notes since we were always in the same classes, and he’d tell me I was a fucking cheater - his favorite word.” I laugh a bit, getting in line with her.

“It sounds like Chris and I would’ve been friends, that’s a cute story though. I always wished I had a sibling.” She said as she looked over the menu.

“No singletons always say that, but you’d hate a sibling. Think Sadie how she’s all up in your shit, but from the day you were born” I giggle and she shook her head with a smile.

“Yeah but I dunno. Sugar is super sweet, I wish I had a sister, but I guess Sadie’s close enough” she shrugged, stepping up with me in line.

“What are you getting?” I asked, looking over the iced options.

“Vietnamese iced coffee. They do it perfect here. I’ve been telling Carm it would do well on the dessert menu if we had one but, who am I to tell him what to add “ she mutters to herself, annoyance slightly lacing her voice and I nudge her with my hip.

“Hey,” I nudge her with my hip, causing her to look at me. “He’s a man. He may be a genius chef, but he’s still, a man- make him think it’s his idea, Syd. Do your Sydney chef kid magic “ I did sparkle fingers for added effect, finally earning her dimples back. “Make the best fuckin Vietnamese iced coffee, and have someone else try it. Make him feel left out. And they’ll obviously be like ‘oh my god Syd, this is amazing’ and then, he’s gonna feel stupid if he doesn’t add it.” I said and she rolls her eyes amusedly.

“I think you’re the Carmen whisperer. Well, you’ll be certified if that works” she said with a smile as we step up to the counter.

“Hey there, can I have a name for the order?” The barista asked.

“Winnie!” I replied before Syd could try to weasel her way into paying - again.

“Ha! Fitting name, love the overalls. What can I get for you?” the barista chirped with a smile.

“May we please have 2 large Vietnamese iced coffees, oh- and…” my eyes settled on the pastry case in front of us, a brown wicker basket on top filled with cookies in the shape of little bears.

I grabbed one, handing it to her. “This.” I said and she nodded, putting in the order in her till.

I double clicked my power button and quickly waved my phone over the till before Syd could think to and she nudged me with her shoulder causing me to smile. “Woops” I teased, taking the bag from the barista containing the little cookie for Carm.

“You ladies can wait there at the end of the bar there we’ll call out your order, have a good one” she said.

I nodded “thank you!” I said as we made our way down to the end of the counter to wait.

“The second I saw those cookies I knew your mushy ass was getting one” she teased, leaning her hip against the counter and crossing her arms over her chest with a smug smirk.

“Oh like you didn’t know I’m a hopeless romantic” I smiled.

It wasn’t long until we got our coffees and sat at a comfy corner table. “I’ve never had this before- what is the white is it milk?” I asked and she nods, stirring hers with her straw.

“It’s sweetened condensed milk. It sounds like it would be sickly sweet but the coffee is so strong it balances perfect. I was thinking…” she leans in so no one would hear. “If we did it, I’ll do like lavender in the milk, of course we’d make our own condensed milk, so I’d steep lavender in it before. Wouldn’t that be fire?!” She asked and I nod with a big smile.

“You are so fuckin smart, Syd. That sounds amazing you’ll have all the witchy bitches me included coming by just to get that I bet” I stirred mine up and took a sip, nodding. “Totally something you guys would sell” I said and she smiled. I grabbed my phone, opening up the camera. “Smileee!” I said she gave me a silly smile and a thumbs up, coffee foam covering her top lip.

“Perfect” I giggled, sending it to Sadie with the caption ‘Our fave chef kid’

I put my phone down and look at her “Okay! You’re not denying me the pleasure of celebrating you any longer- take out your phone and let’s see if you’re nominated!!!” I urge and she bites her lip nervously, grabbing her phone, unlocking it, and setting it on the table.

“If I got nominated I’ll have an email…you do it- I can’t look. I can’t” she pushes her phone towards me and I eagerly grab it, opening up her email and refreshing it. I smiled wide when I saw the words, clicking open the email and clearing my throat before reading

‘Dear Chef de Cuisine; Sydney Adamu,

We hope this email finds you well.

The James Beard Foundation 2024 Awards Committee would like to extend their congratulations on such a fine year of culinary accomplishments. Your passion to the culinary arts, and dedication to our personal mission at TJBF to celebrate, support, and elevate the standards behind America’s food culture- doesn’t go unrecognized.

This is why you have been nominated for the for the following awards;

Outstanding Chef ‘

I jump up, wrapping my arms around her with a wide smile, tears pricking behind my eyes. “Syd!!! You did it. You did it. I knew you would” I squeeze her tight.

“Holy fuck” she grabs the phone, and I watch as she rereads the words over and over “holy fuck.” She whispers, jaw dropped.

“I told you bitch!! Look at herrr okay!! Syd the chef kid! Everyone better watch out! You skipped right past emerging chef and went straight for the big one! Oh my god I can’t wait for you to tell Sadie!! Oh my god we need to celebrate!!” I pat her arm excitedly.

“Wait-“ she said, scrolling further I quickly read the rest of the email, my heart sinking slightly when I saw the paragraph she was now stuck on.

‘You have been nominated among 4 other extraordinary, and talented Chefs in the industry;

Berzatto, Carmen (Executive Chef)

Cantina, Jose (Executive Chef)

Donner, Phillip (Executive Chef)

Nixon, Jessica (Executive Chef) ‘

“So- they just fuckin’ nominated me against people that are all my senior? Are they joking” she laughs dryly. “And then to pit me against Carmen? What is wrong with them, Winnie?” She locked her phone, putting it back in her jacket pocket. “I just- I’d rather they had given me a fair chance. This just feels like they’re telling me straight up they won’t pick me.”

“Syd - don’t get down on yourself, what if they put you in there because you’re the only Chef-de-fancypants that deserved it, hmm?” I said with a small smile and she snorts at the silly name.

“That’d be a long shot…but thanks” she said, squeezing my hand gently. “C'mon- we have to get you to therapy and I need to get back. I should be working on recipes” she said and my frown returns.

In this way, her and Carm were exactly the same. Whenever she was upset with herself she threw herself into her work instead of feeling.

“Alright…” I said softly and got up, putting the brown paper bag containing Carm’s cookie in my tote carefully so it wouldn’t be crushed, standing up.

The walk back to the car was silent, I could tell she was beating herself up and I hated it.

“Y’know…it’s crazy you even got nominated so young, Syd. Everyone else on that list is at least 3 years older than you are…so like- they see you as deserving already, but it doesn’t even matter what they think, or what Carmen thinks, or what I think. You’re deserving because you know how much you put into your work.” I told her once we were driving again.

She nodded, “thank you…really it means a lot. I know I’m deserving, I just wish sometimes other people would see it.” She said, and my heart ached. We listened to SZA the whole way, I decided it was better not to push her on the issue. I’d long since realized Syd was the kind of person who had to stew in her anger or hurt for a while, alone- so she was comfortable explaining it to someone else since she knew it like the back of her hand. It was alot how she did her work, she would never show anyone any new recipe she was working on - even Carm - unless she felt it was already deserving of a spot on the menu, because she knew the dish so well, and any possible thing that could make it better- and only approaches someone for final tweaks.

When we stopped at the Doctors office I lean over and give her a hug. “It’s all gonna be ok, Kid. I love you, i’ll see you friday” I said softly into her shoulder and she rests her head on mine, hugging me close.

“Thanks…Love y’too. It will be…” she said softly into my shoulder and I pulled away.

“And I expect you’ll send me that new article to check out when they send it to you yeah? You looked so gorgeous in the pictures they took. Really, I cant wait to see the whole thing” I said and she nodded with a small smile.

“Course Pooh, C’mon-” she taps the clock that read 1:54 “Gonna be late” she said and I rolled my eyes playfully.

“Yes Mommy” I teased, pushing the door open. “Later kid!” I said as I swung it shut and head in to the building.

Time to rip open some unhealed wounds! Oh what a joy.

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

#carmen berzatto #the bear fic #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear hulu #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto x oc #carmen berzatto smut #camy berzatto x oc

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seongminiz · 2 months ago

Text

tear Of gOd

minors dni ; fallen angel jungmo x human wonjin ; 2.1k words

SYNOPSIS Had Wonjin not known any better, he would think what he sees when he meets Jungmo's unsettling eyes is lust. Surely, that's impossible - after all, angels don't sin, and they are absolutely not capable of committing a sin as deadly as lust, be it in or out of heaven. Or, Jungmo - Wonjin’s guardian angel - is kicked out of heaven when the obsession over his human gets out of hand, and has nowhere to go if not Wonjin himself.

cw religious themes , blasphemy , inaccurate representation of catholicism’s views on the afterlife bc i havent been to church in almost 5 yrs , bitchless loser virgin wonjin ejejehjf , dom!jungmo , sub!wonjin , corruption kink (kinda ? idk i had the idea of writing it but idk if i actually put it in so) , handjob , orgasm denial

➔ cross-posted on ao3 !

⚠ DISCLAIMER ⚠ if you're uncomfortable with religious themes (specifically christianity in this instance) or their use in a nsfw/sexually explicit context , it's your responsibility as the reader to click off this work and go read something else . i as the author have no responsibility for your discomfort with the themes i decide to write about

note shout out to onlyoneof for making cunty catholic guilt yaoi music so i could get through writing n find a title for this fic (˶ˆᗜˆ˵) n thank u to the loml @elifseasonz for beta reading this n supporting me through the absolute crash out that were these past 8 months of writing 🩷 i've been writing this since may 2024 - not bc its particularly long or well thought out tho , im just a terribly slow n bad writer :3 i also wrote most of it while i had the worst cold ever so .. theres that too n some parts of it r probably so rushed (oomf (= my Proof Reader™) said its fast paced </3 life is not worth living anymore /j)

Wonjin considers his life to be rather inconspicuous. He is the most average guy someone could ever meet, and it reflects on all his disastrous first dates ending with no kind of follow up. He never does anything creepy or straight up wrong, but his whole demeanor has a certain ‘I’m a loser virgin’ vibe that tends to scare away even the most desperate of his potential partners.

Jungmo, on the other hand, considers Wonjin’s life to be the finest piece of entertainment he could ever ask for. One would argue it is because that is what his whole job consists of: watching over Wonjin and his more than ordinary day-to-day life, failed dates and all.

Jungmo has never been among the most beloved angels in the ranks of Heaven, both due to his occupation - the more contact a divine being has with humans the more their existence becomes tainted and impure, making guardian angels the bottom of the holy food chain - and, more than anything, because of his tendency to defy the rules that have been imposed on him since his very first day in Heaven.

Most of it consisted in minor offenses, like sneaking to Earth without permission to go visit ‘his’ human, or almost resorting to violence that one time another angel offered to take responsibility over Wonjin instead of him; they all originated from how prone Jungmo was to sin compared to his fellow guardian angels, making him an unstable employee since his first day in Paradise, his status immediately solidified as a liability for both his and Heaven's stability.

Which is how Jungmo finds himself kicked out of Heaven, stranded in a random dark alleyway somewhere. Really, he could be anywhere.

Had he not relentlessly followed Wonjin in his every step for years, Jungmo would have no idea of where to go. Of course, it is only normal for a guardian angel to know where their human lives and be able to teleport themselves there in a matter of seconds.

Wings broken and past their first stage of decay, Jungmo uses the last remaining traces of his powers to manifest his physical form into Wonjin’s room - it takes slightly longer than he is used to, but it still can’t be more than a few minutes.

The digital clock on the bedside table reads 3:33AM, the red symbols flashing and glitching for a moment when Jungmo makes his appearance - human technology is such a fragile thing, even the dying powers of a former angel are able to put it through strain.

Wonjin has always been a heavy sleeper, struggling to wake up even when the sun is up high and his alarm has rang at least ten times.

Which makes it all the more obvious something is off that night.

He struggles to fall asleep, but chalks it up to anxiety for a major upcoming exam he has been stressing over for months; when he wakes up at three in the morning with the eerie sensation of being watched, though, he can't really blame it on his academic anxiety anymore.

His eyes slowly adapt to the darkness, a humanoid shadow standing in the far corner of his room, right beside the door.

Sleep paralysis? Likely, Wonjin thinks, but the hypothesis is quickly shut down when he finds no resistance within his body as he scrambles to grab his glasses from the bedside table and runs his hand along the wall feeling for the light switch.

Had Wonjin been in a sane state of mind, he would have screamed. Except Wonjin feels anything but sane, his mouth just hanging open in silence as he takes in the person - can he even call it that? The tattered wings sprouting from his back suggest the opposite - standing in front of him.

“What the fuck?” It’s all Wonjin can manage, his voice raspy and his throat dry - from sleep or from the shock, he isn't exactly sure.

Jungmo chuckles. He has observed his human for years, to the point he knows every little quirk, habit and shameful sin of his, but he forgot Wonjin is not familiar with his existence at all.

Without the limits of Heaven binding him to being truthful, Jungmo could simply lie about who he is, about why he is there.

Jungmo is free.

“I’m your guardian angel,” he explains. That much is not a lie, he is just omitting an irrelevant fragment of the truth.

Wonjin eyes him skeptically, fixating on his bruised skin, his bloodied clothes and, once again, his decaying wings. The originally white feathers have colored themselves of a sickly dark gray, bordering on an even darker color towards some edges, those that turn completely black falling off in the matter of minutes. A few white spots remain, but the color has started becoming more dull, dirtying itself as if infected with an incurable disease.

“I was kicked out of heaven,” Jungmo confesses, immediately continuing to not leave any room for protest from Wonjin. “Not because of my sins. I was tricked by an evil, jealous angel who blamed their mistakes on me.”

“And what do I have to do with this? Why are you in my room?” Wonjin asks bluntly.

Religion has always been a pretty neutral topic to him, he genuinely has no care for it. That odd guy might be his guardian angel, but Wonjin wants nothing to do with him.

Yet, it intrigues him. He suspects what the angel has said about being kicked out of heaven is not entirely the truth, and that only makes him want to know more about the otherworldly being standing in front of him.

“Well, I told you,” Jungmo says matter-of-factly. “You’re my human. Who else should I look for? You’re the only thing I know about this insignificant mortal world.”

“Fair,” Wonjin mutters. While he might not be completely convinced by what he says, the thought process is completely logical - excluding the whole premise of a supernatural, heavenly being appearing in his room out of nowhere. The absurdity of it all has almost slipped his mind already.

“You know, Wonjin,” Jungmo takes a step forward, and Wonjin is torn between mirroring his actions, drawn closer to the angel by an invisible force he can't quite explain, or get further away from him - though the second option proves itself to be impossible when Wonjin tries scooting back on the bed, and his back meets the headboard with a dull sound.

Jungmo looks down at Wonjin, only one step separating the two of them.

Had Wonjin not known any better, he would think what he sees when he meets Jungmo's unsettling eyes is lust. Surely, that's impossible – after all, angels don't sin, and they are absolutely not capable of committing a sin as deadly as lust, be it in or out of heaven.

“I've been watching you for so long,” Jungmo's thin, delicate fingers grasp Wonjin's jaw with such gentleness he is left doubting they are even there. The angel's pointed nails slightly digging into his skin, though, are enough of a confirmation of the touch being real.

Wonjin is not sure what he expects when Jungmo leans closer, so their faces are mere centimeters apart from each other, making it almost impossible for him to hold the angel's gaze.

Up close, Jungmo's irises are nothing but pits of pure darkness, blending with his pupils to the point the two are indistinguishable. Wonjin doesn't know the reason, but the sight makes his stomach close in on itself.

And if that alone is not enough of a reminder of Jungmo's lack of humanity, the stillness in his body is – no breathing, no heartbeat, everything about Jungmo is unmoving, eternal.

Jungmo’s lips, on the other hand, feel more alive than anything Wonjin has ever experienced.

Alive, gentle, but so desperate, as if Jungmo has been waiting for this moment ever since he laid his eyes on Wonjin.

Could that be the truth? Could he be the reason Jungmo has been banished from heaven? The thought alone makes Wonjin’s stomach churn in a mixture of fear and pride that only spurs him on to kiss Jungmo back with more fervor.

Wonjin gasps at the contact with Jungmo's cold skin, the angel's fingertips sneaking under his shirt and brushing his hips, eliciting whimpers and whines that Wonjin can't help but be slightly ashamed of.

Jungmo is skilled, far too sure in what he is doing for someone who has supposedly led a life void of sin up until that moment, and Wonjin knows that alone should raise all kinds of alarm bells and red flags in him – it does.

Wonjin knows he should be more cautious, yet he decides to ignore his own rationale, getting lost in Jungmo's lips, in his touch and in his body.

.☆⭒ ♱ ⭒☆.

“God,” Wonjin grabs Jungmo’s wrist in an attempt to slow down his motions, his fingers slipping around the angel’s cold skin as he chuckles.

“There is no god here, Wonjin,” Jungmo speeds up his pace, tightening his hold once he reaches Wonjin’s tip and loosening it every time his hand slides down to the base. “That is, unless you’re talking about me.”

Wonjin’s moans grow in volume and pitch, it’s all too much, too overwhelming, and it feels like nothing he has ever experienced before - though he is pretty sure he is about to cum at any moment. If only Jungmo tightens his fist just a little more and…

“Am I your god, Wonjin?” Jungmo suddenly stops, his hands completely leaving Wonjin’s body as he relishes in his human’s delicious whines and protests.

Jungmo brings his fingers, slick and stained in precum, to Wonjin’s chin, tilting it upwards so their eyes can meet. Any and all protests Wonjin could have die in his mouth as he once again gets lost in the endless pits that are Jungmo’s eyes.

“Answer me, Wonjin,” Jungmo whispers, leaning down to kiss along Wonjin’s jawline, until his lips are right by his ear and his free hand is barely grazing Wonjin’s cock. “Tell me I am your god, and I’ll let you cum.”

Wonjin lets out a shaky, hesitant breath, barely able to keep his eyes open as he weakly reaches for Jungmo’s hand, the angel promptly moving it further away from his cock with a smirk.

“Yes,” Wonjin is quick to force himself to answer, intertwining his fingers with Jungmo’s and pulling him closer, reaching for a kiss that Jungmo once again withholds from him.

“Yes what? I want to hear you say it.”

“You’re my god, Jungmo,” Wonjin’s voice is barely above a whisper, cracking at every other word he speaks. “My one and only god.”

Jungmo’s acknowledgement for Wonjin’s blind devotion comes in the form of his hand slipping out of Wonjin’s hold, and wrapping once again around his sensitive cock.

It doesn’t take long for Wonjin to get close again, his voice melting into an incomprehensible ramble of “I’m gonna cum” repeating until Jungmo has to shush him, reassuring him that he’s not going to rip that orgasm away from him again. A part of him is tempted to, but the need to see Wonjin finally fall apart in his hands is stronger.

“Go ahead,” Jungmo whispers, relishing in the shiver that pervades Wonjin as his hands grip Jungmo’s arms in a desperate attempt to ground himself. “Cum for your one and only god.”

Wonjin’s mind goes blank, he doesn’t know for how long. His body is still shaking once he regains enough of a sense of self to open his eyes, laying his head on Jungmo’s shoulder as he catches his breath.

Jungmo’s fingers are dripping in his human’s cum. He brings them closer to his face, inspecting the sticky substance with curiosity before hesitantly licking some of it off of his digits.

The slightly salty taste of Wonjin’s cum has Jungmo biting back a moan at the realization he’s consuming a part of him, in some twisted, fucked up way.

Jungmo wants more, but he knows Wonjin can’t handle another orgasm, so he settles for the next best thing. Is it really ‘settling’, though, when Wonjin’s lips are just as addicting, as he squeezes Jungmo’s hand in his and smiles into the kiss.

Wonjin is quick to get drowsy, pulling Jungmo under the covers and mumbling something along the lines of “Don’t you dare go anywhere” as he drifts off to sleep, his hand still gripping Jungmo’s.

Jungmo observes Wonjin’s sleeping frame, so much closer than he has ever been able to before.

The sun has started rising, shining through the sheer curtains and painting Wonjin’s beautiful features in its soft orange hues.

It’s all worth it.

Even as Jungmo’s wings rot past the point of no return, the last of his feathers falling off and shriveling into dust, into nothingness, leaving the skeletal frame sprouting from his back bare and vulnerable. Even as a pain he has never experienced before curses through him.

All it takes for Jungmo to think the eternal suffering that awaits him is worth it is a look at his lover peacefully sleeping underneath him.

im sorry this is actually so bad i cant write gay sex HOW AM I A FUJO THAT DOESN’T KNOW HOWTO WRITE GAY SEX ???!??!!???

#🍰 seongminiz !#🧇 crvt !#🍅 토마토즈 / 모원 !#cravity hard hours #cravity smut #cravity fic #cravity angst #kind of 🫡#idk guys im just saying things i just want the fujos to find it

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