#preface: I don’t feel rushed

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

can we get an update on how pathetic is going so far? 🥺

are we on 100k words LMAO im dreaming but i dont mean to rush you i'm just curious meheh

- 💌

Uh

[naeviskz]

WHIRLWIND ๑‧˚₊ ─── HHJ

synopsis ; you overreact just a teensy bit when you see hyunjin talking to another girl, but when you find out the actual reason why … you try everything you can to make it up to him.

genre 숌 non-idol au, boyfriend!hyunjin x girlfriend!reader | established relationship

words - 3.6k tags/warnings 숌 fluff, (some) angst? pwp, smut, reader gets very jealous easily/has possessive tendencies, small mentions of insecurities, v v v clingy & needy gf, marking, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (m), lowkey daddy kink, hj has a big cawk, breeding kink cause that’s my fave tehe. i will preface that oc kinda has a toxic way of thinking and it’s def not healthy to act this way irl !!

now playing 🎧 : cool with you by newjeans, streets by doja cat

☆ 彡

[ this my first ever writing that has smut in it so bear w/ me pls ;-; i’m still learning how to do this right haha, but lmk if you enjoyed this at all <3 **not proofread btw ! ]

“Let’s go on that one next Jinnie!!” You squeal like a giddish teenager as you point to the ride up ahead, violently pulling on Hyunjin’s hand his entire arm might just fall off.

It’ll be your 1 year anniversary in approximately a week, and what better way to pre celebrate than going to the amusement park and watching fireworks at night? You haven’t been to one in years, reminiscing all those times you were a kid innocently frolicking around, not having a single care in the world. Since you’re a fully grown adult now it’s an altered experience, you’re able to pick up on social cues and no longer need parental supervision. You forgot just how thrilling it was to let loose and have fun, all while spending it with your lovely boyfriend.

The current ride you’re both getting on is essentially a giant wooden pirate ship that swings in a horizontal motion, elevating you high up in the air. You don’t do heights very well but Hyunjin’s a little daredevil who gets off on the adrenaline rush. He’s tried convincing you to do skydiving but that’s just something you refuse to compromise on. Before going on the pirate ship ride you went on the teacups, which was probably your favorite one of today. You couldn’t stop giggling and teasing Hyunjin over how incredibly fast he was spinning the turn-wheel, almost forgetting that you were also supposed to contribute. Spending quality time with your boyfriend like this means everything to you, he makes you feel like you’re floating on a pink cloud whenever you’re together. Like nothing else matters but you and him.

As the day progressed, what was once a milky, pale blue sky has now become a smoky dull atmosphere. Night was approaching any minute, making the temperature drop dramatically— you regret leaving the house in just shorts and a crop top. Your limbs shaking and trembling involuntarily from gusts of cool air the wind casually blows, Hyunjin seems to take note of this and takes action immediately.

“Want my hoodie babe?” Hyunjin asks out of concern, ready to yank it off the minute you agree.

You profusely nod at his offer, unable to withstand the frigid weather for another second. He pauses momentarily to grab the hem of his Versace sweatshirt with his free hand, swiftly drawing it over his head and handing it to you. Underneath he wore a thin plain white tee, now suffering from the cold— but any sacrifice is worthy of making for his precious babygirl.

Quickly putting it on, your body feels instantly warmer from his body heat still embedded into the soft fabric. “You saved me Jinnie, I almost turned into a human popsicle!” Were you exaggerating a bit? Maybe, but that’s beside the point. You’re all cozy now in Hyunjin’s oversized hoodie, loving the fact that only you get to wear his clothes.

His eyes shape into crescents as he flashes an adoring smile, “my diet would only consist of peach flavored ___ popsicles for the rest of my life then.”

You swear he’s just the cutest, most adorable, sweetest thing to have ever walked this earth. Sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky to end up with a person as charming, and perfect as Hyunjin. He’d say the same about you too but there’s another layer to how you feel. You’re often very over protective and territorial over him, needing to know exactly where he is at all times and who he’s hanging out with. Most of the time he’s with you, either at your place or at his. There was a set routine you two had at this point, after he’s done with work he’ll call and let you know he’s on his way to yours. Hyunjin knows how paranoid you can get when he’s gone for too long so he makes sure to communicate with you as much as he can throughout the day. It’s hard to deal with someone as high maintenance as you but he makes it work, he likes that you’re always worried and concerned about him — he’d rather have a girlfriend like that than one who doesn’t care about him.

“Looks like the sun should be setting soon.. won’t be much longer ‘til the fireworks start!” You cheer out of excitement, part of the reason you wanted to come was to see them.

He nods in agreement, “you’re right, is there anything else you wanna ride before they start?”

As if your brain answered before you could even think, “You.”

His doe eyes widened at your bold reply, never quite getting used to your subtle dirty mind. “I’ll give you that in due time, don’t worry mamas.”

A little bit later on you challenged Hyunjin to try the ‘test your strength’ game and of course he couldn’t pass up a moment to impress you. He gets into a competitive sports stance, gripping the hammer tightly before he swung hard at the puck. The meter flew straight up and hit the bell on his first try, able to win whatever prize he wanted from the largest section. He lets you choose whichever plushy you wanted, a giant fluffy pink stuffed unicorn that you held in your other hand that wasn’t occupied with Hyunjin’s.

“Hyunjinnieee, ‘m getting kinda hungry,” you childishly whine in hopes of getting him to buy you both food.

Before he could even get a response out your eyes were already fixated on something. The glowing neon lights of a food stand selling mozzarella corn dogs, you’ve always wanted to try those as you see them all the time on TikTok. Without hesitation you make a mad dash for the line as you drag your innocent boyfriend along for the adventure. As you got closer you realize the lines pretty spread out, there was at least 20+ people waiting but you were willing to stay as you really wanted one.

Hyunjin detaches his hand from yours, making you question his sudden intentions, “be right back babe, m’gonna go to the restroom.” He politely excuses himself, “here’s my card just in case I don’t make it back in time.” Pulling his credit card from his wallet to hand you before venturing off.

“Don’t be gone for too long please, or else I’ll come find you myself.” You were dead serious too, honestly speaking you didn’t necessarily want him out of your sight but you trust that he’ll come back in a reasonable amount of time. Hopefully.

“I promise babe.” He reassures, giving a quick peck to your forehead before vanishing into the crowd.

After what seemed like an eternity, you manage to secure the corn dogs and pay for them with Hyunjin’s card. Realizing now that your boyfriend is still gone, it’s been a good 15-20 minutes and he promised that he’d be back. Now you have to go looking for him like a mother who’s just lost their child. Scanning every area of the park you came across, you begin to feel anxious when you don’t see him anywhere. A range of negative thoughts intrude your mind with possibilities of where he could’ve gone. What you weren’t expecting was for your intuition to be exactly spot on.

There he was standing in front a taco truck, talking and laughing with another girl. A girl you absolutely do not recognize and have no clue why or what she’s doing even having a conversation with your man. You couldn’t move at all, frozen in place as you watched the scene fold out in front of you, making you more livid as it continues. The mystery girl was pissing you off by the minute, the tiny skirt she wore barely left anything to the imagination and her body language was way too close for comfort for your liking. You had to put a stop to this immediately.

Slowly you make your way up to them, examining the situation further. The blonde girl tries to loom even closer to Hyunjin but he backs away a bit, a sheer look of fear and paranoia in his eyes. She keeps talking to him but he doesn’t really say much back, only half smiling and nodding. What makes you pick up your pace at lightning speed was when he pulls his phone out from his back pocket, as if he’s about to ask for her number.

You’ve seen enough, it’s time to intervene now.

Practically sprinting up to them you see the girl perk up when she sees you, giving a friendly wave and inviting smile as if she wasn’t just trying to steal your man a second ago. You’re ready to rip this bitches hair out and show her that she’s picked the wrong one to mess with today.

“Oh hi, you must be ___, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Her voice was so squeaky and high-pitched, not even in a cute way, just obnoxiously loud and annoying.

…How the fuck does this girl know who you are?

“Who the hell is this?” You snap at Hyunjin, completely ignoring the girl’s presence, “How does she know you?”

“I’m— ”

“I believe I asked my boyfriend, not you. Who is she?” You rudely cut her off to reiterate the question.

Hyunjin looks like he’s just witnessed a murder, his own murder to be exact. “This is Valerie, we went to high school together, I was just showing her your freelance work and all the cool designs you make ‘cause she’s looking for graphic designers and I think you’re really talented babe.”

Your heart just sank to the pit of your stomach. The balled up fist your right hand was clenching soon released itself, no longer in fight mode but flight mode from the sudden embarrassment you’re internally battling.

“Oh..”

“Uh, well it was nice talking to you Hyunjin! I’ll go find my husband now, but your graphics are incredible ___ and I’d love to hire you for a couple projects I have lined up. Here’s my business card!” She hands you the flimsy card stock and leaves in an instant.

Now you feel totally ridiculous for almost causing a scene and cursing out the girl and your boyfriend for just wanting to promote your work. You owe him an apology big time.

“I thought you were…”

“Flirting with another girl, seriously? You think I have a death wish or something? Of course I’d never try something like that. The first thing she saw was you as my lock screen when I checked the time. Plus she’s married, I don’t think she’d be that dumb.” Hyunjin further proves his case, making sure not to leave any details out.

“M’sorry baby, please forgive me.” You plead for forgiveness, regressing back to your softer, more gentle side “lemme make it up to you daddy.”

“Nngh! Hyunjin-” you keen into his ear as you rub your clothed heat against his toned thigh, holding onto him for stable support.

You seriously felt bad for acting out like that earlier, all you want to do now is make him feel so good he forgets all about your previous unhinged behavior. Lord knows what you’d do if you ever lose someone so important to you. You can’t think about that right now though. Right now was all about him and making him feel good, but you can’t help but get something out of it as well.

The backseat of his car was a bit cramped as he decided to take his smaller convertible instead of the SUV, not exactly bargaining that later on you’d be getting freaky in his vehicle. Nonetheless you enjoy each other’s company, not needing much space anyway — if anything you wanted to be as close to him as possible. If you could get inside his skin you probably would. You love Hyunjin more than yourself, often feeling like you aren’t good enough to be with him. Maybe the reason you’re so protective and jealous is because you fear he’ll leave you for someone better.

Lazily trailing your lips down further, placing small pecks here and there until you land on his neck, adorned with a dainty silver chain, nuzzling your face into the crook of it. He smells so good, the cologne he’s wearing along with his natural pheromones is an intoxicating concoction. You stick your tongue out, gliding the wet muscle over his bare skin, still feverishly rutting into him while listening to his ethereal moans.

“Mmm.. I love you.” He murmurs under his breath, slipping his hands underneath (his) your hoodie to feel you up. His hands travel upwards to find the valley of your breasts, still covered by the bra you’re wearing he slides underneath the cups to lightly squeeze them.

You nibble on his neck in response, harshly sucking on the flesh to leave visible love bites, you want to make it abundantly clear to the whole world Hwang Hyunjin belongs to you.

“I love you more Hyunjinnie,” you stop for a brief moment to say, “gonna prove it.” Which you will once you’re satisfied with marking his entire neck and chest with dozens of purple and red hickeys.

Even though he’s touching you, grinding his hard length into you and purring out your name, you need more. Craving to see and feel more of him, you tug at the hem of his t-shirt in hopes he catches your drift.

“Off. Now.” You demand sharply, getting more impatient by the second.

He obliges instantly, stripping the garment off his body to reveal the most gorgeous set of abs you’ve laid your eyes upon, he’s so unreal it makes you constantly question if you’re dreaming. You went from his neck to kissing his plump lips, his hand cupping the side of your face to deepen the kiss, both so desperate and horny for each other. Running your manicured hands down his beautiful body, just the tiniest flexing Hyunjin does with his muscles makes you go crazy. You need him to manhandle you, have you bent over and get fucked senselessly.

“Lie back Jinnie, m’gonna suck you off.” You command him to move, getting up from him so he can pivot into a more comfortable position.

He shuffles around, leaning into the leather seat before quickly undoing his pants and sliding them down his ankles. You get on your knees, disappearing between his legs to come in contact with his stiff erection. Tracing figure eights on his thighs, he hisses from your delicate touch. You couldn’t resist planting a chaste kiss to his stomach, leaving another wet kiss to his v-line. Any little touch makes Hyunjin’s heart beat out of his chest, he can’t get enough of you just as you can’t of him— high off each other like an addictive, psychoactive drug.

As you finally free his cock from the last barrier, his boxer briefs, you’re in awe from just how much precum he’s leaking already. His length stood straight up resting on his stomach, faint veins protruding around the shaft. You kiss his pretty pink tip while looking up at him with innocent eyes, grabbing the base of his cock, opening your mouth just a little to provide a few kitten licks. You’ve only just started but he feels like he’s going to come undone already.

“Shit-” he lowly grunts, feeling his cock pulsate in your tiny hand.

Taking him further in your mouth now, you manage to fit half of his length, bobbing your head up and down while keeping a tight suction on his cock. Hyunjin involuntarily rocks his hips into you, making you gag just a little from how big he is. You could never fit all of him (except for that one time you were super drunk and magically forgot what a gag reflex was) but you still try your best and that’s all that matters to him. He loves that you’re always willing to give him random blowjobs whenever and wherever, you both love public sex and the idea of possibly being caught. You take a short break to collect more saliva, spitting on his cock and spreading it with your hand to make it even messier. His mouth was permanently agape, staring down at you with lust filled eyes, not knowing how much longer he can last. When you start pumping his cock much faster along with swirling your tongue around it , he thinks he might just lose it. Panting heavily, he shifts underneath you in attempt to get you to stop but you keep sucking like the cock hungry slut you are for him. He’s seriously going to nut any minute if you continue at this rate.

“Babe.. you’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up…” he closes his eyes, almost giving in to what’s inevitably about to come.

“Isn’t that the goal?” You ask quickly before going back.

“No,” he says, slightly frustrated with you for not obeying, “fucking this tight little pussy is.”

You’re confused when he’s pulling you away from him, moving you from the floor and back onto his lap all in one swift action, manhandling you for real this time. “What’re you doing!” You raise your voice at him like a brat, to which he spanks your behind in response.

“Shh.. relax.” He shuts you up by pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss.

You moan into his mouth, melting right into his touch like always. “Need you so bad please..” you whine for to feel more of him.

“Tell me what you need, I’ll give it to you baby.” He promises, lacing his fingers in your hair, looking at you with pure admiration.

“Your cock.. need your big fat cock inside me now,” you beg like a good girl, “please daddy, i’m literally soaking for you.” Shameless at this point with how you talk, but you know the dirtier you get the more Hyunjin likes it.

He can’t say no when you ask so polite that. “I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you want princess.”

And he does.

Once he rids you of your shorts and underwear, you’re back on top of him, lining yourself up with his thick cock that slides right in from you being so ready.

“Fuck you’re so wet baby.. you take this cock so well cutie,” he praises you in the hottest way possible. You’ll never get tired of hearing him talk like this to you, hence why you love to have sex so much.

“Only for you daddy.” You breathlessly spoke, getting used to his length for a moment before beginning to move. Slowly bouncing up and down his member at first until Hyunjin slams his cock into you, walls clenching as you feel every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him in slow motion to picking up your speed, placing both hands around his neck. Hyunjin throws his head back in pleasure, wrapping his hand around your waist as the other grips the soft flesh of your ass.

“Mine… your cock is mine,” you’re going faster and faster, crying out as he matches your movements, thrusting back into you hard. “Only I get to ride this everyday.”

He doesn’t hesitate to agree, letting you know exactly who he belongs to. “I’m all yours babygirl, can have this cock as much as you want, use me to get yourself off..”

You feel like you’re about to come soon, legs shaking and spasming from his girth splitting you open. “Yes baby..” you couldn’t think straight anymore, “love your cock so much Jinnie..” You mewl from being so full and cockstuffed “mmph.. wanna have your babies.”

“Yeah? Want me to fill your little cunt with all my cum and get you pregnant, hmm ? That what you want pretty girl?” He sounded so pussy drunk he couldn’t even blame you for wanting to any of this.

One more thrust was all it took for the thread to unravel inside of you, seeing white, glowing stars as you get closer to your orgasm.

“Jinnie kiss me.”

He does as he’s told, grabbing your face to kiss you roughly, entering his tongue in your mouth to intertwine with yours. He’s so good at everything he does it’s insane. Maybe if the dick wasn’t so damn good you wouldn’t be half as crazy.

“I’m so close princess..” he announces, slipping one of his long, slender digits onto your clit, coaxing your release.

“Me too.”

Everything feels ultra sensitive to you as you approach your climax, whimpering as Hyunjin sucks on your perked nipples while you continue riding him. A sudden rambunctious crackling sound startles the both of you, but what you weren’t expecting to see outside were fireworks lighting up the night sky. You’d completely forgot how excited you were to see them, watching in amazement as all the vibrant colors morph together. Leaning in to tenderly kiss your boyfriend who was also momentarily distracted, you get back right to business, chasing after your highs. Hyunjin finishes inside you like you wanted, feeling his hot seed spill into your aching heat. You came undone shortly after, holding onto him while your bare chests collide. Fireworks detonate inside your body as they do outside.

As if the universe had orchestrated the perfect 1 year anniversary pre celebration just for the two of you; a perfect moment to seal your love with the glittering magic of romance and fireworks combined. Hyunjin’s so happy to have met someone like you, someone who loves him so passionately and so deeply. He may not understand why you think the way you do sometimes, or react with such brash methods, but he knows that you do it out of pure love. It’s a whirlwind of emotions dating you but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world or have it any other way.

- 完 ♡︎

[astradyke]

I would adore a deep dive into your thoughts on Phil’s quiet but wonderful way of showing his love for Dan being through photos

hi, i’m sorry i’m responding so late to this, but i really appreciate you enabling me here because i do seriously think about this constantly. i don’t know if i have the words to articulate it, though, so… bear with me. i'd quite like to try.

nobody loves in just a singular way, that’s the preface to this. when i say that Dan loves through words and Phil loves through photography, i don’t mean that Dan doesn’t use photography as an act of love— because there is a polaroid, in their house, of Phil that Dan took— and i don’t mean that Phil has never said something profound about Dan, because we all remember how he talked about Dan’s book at the end of the haircut video (19:13). i, at the very least, never really left the parts at the end of what Dan and Phil Text Each Other 2 where Phil constantly amplifies the work Dan is trying to do, unmasking his own frustrations at the struggles Dan has to experience, and meets Dan's self deprecation with affection (here's that dissertation) (19:57). Dan may use words in a very abstract, artistic way, professing his love for Phil as a ‘soulmate’, an unmatched connection, but Phil still has a careful, casual way of endlessly maneuvering himself to stand by Dan’s side. etc. and of course, there are five thousand other ways to adore a person. Dan and Phil do a little bit of everything; we are lucky to see a spare few snippets.

all that said, let’s talk about photography, yeah?

there is a permanence to photography, even if it’s not always a tangible permanence. they are timestamps, living commitments; i refuse to accept the idea that photography is somehow a ‘stand in’ to ‘true human connection’, rather than a critical facet of it. ex. i know that my best friend is real even if i didn’t have a photo of him sitting beside me on a wayward bus, but it’s still important that i inscribed that memory distinctly into the fabric of my life by taking a moment to chronicle it.

Phil Lester uses photography as a way to immortalize a thousand different fragments of his forever with Dan. there’s a distinct thought process, right, to see someone you love and decide— i never want to lose this moment. that decision, in of itself, is enough of a love confession, but there’s another layer when you decide, on top of all of it, i want the entire world to see this. when Dan described his love for Phil as "more than just romantic", he opened up a piece of himself to show the world, this is how i love this person. this is how i see him. when Dan calls Phil bubby, or dear, this is him cracking a hard exterior to say this is how i see you.

the two of them, upon first meeting, took a selfie together at the Apple store— Phil was the one to press the button. when they sat at the top of the sky-bar, Phil was the one to take a photo of Dan amidst the golden hour light. maybe he didn’t know that Dan loved him back, yet, but he had a certainty in his own adoration of Dan— that regardless of whether Dan wanted him back, Phil wanted him. the image feels timid but assured, like swallowing down anxiety to look yourself in the mirror; you can feel that through the pixels of it, so transparently. Phil’s love of Dan was not conditioned on anything: it was a terrifying but beautiful thing, and he wanted to preserve it, so even if it all went wrong he could say this is how i loved you. this is how you are loved, to me. you don’t have to want me back, but know that you were wanted, here, crawling into your own head sitting across from me in a city i’d like to call home with you, someday. so let me. and when you look at this photo of heart eyes Howell, cradling a bear, it’s louder than a blood rush: i love you.

[ID: Dan Howell sitting in the sunlight, looking outside the window while holding his phone. end ID.]

[ID: Dan Howell in a fuzzy hat, holding a stuffed bear against his face and looking at the camera with a small smile. end ID]

(sorry. it was necessary to include).

every year, Phil spills this oath into his camera roll. when Dan’s birthday arrives, Phil has a thousand candids to show for it, a thousand of silly and unflattering photos— a “loving” selection (7:41). exposing my heart a little here, but when you are someone who struggles with insecurity at some level, photos of you that are unflattering circling around feels horrifying. you want to be composed, and pretty, and loved— but then, maybe, it settles in that you are loved someplace beyond conditions. Phil chronicles these casual, vulnerable moments with Dan, and he shares them, because he loves Dan to a level past the flat logic of if he is composed, if he is pretty, then he is loved. Dan may be unattractive at points, but he is never unloved. never again.

these photos also demonstrate how much Phil romanticizes the little moments with Dan. watching him play Skyrim in VR; sitting beside him while he plays Elden Ring (3:40); admiring an oddly-shaped tear in his pants (missing citation); taken aback by a large poodle jumping into his lap. there are hundreds of photos of Dan taken by Phil which have escaped. imagine how many more linger. if we can go off of this (admittedly horrifying) tweet, we can envision a camera roll overflowing with him.

when they go on vacation, Phil takes soft photographs of Dan. here’s this love in a new city, just like we did fifteen years ago in Manchester, before i knew the right way to hold your hand, the right way to counter your cynicism, the right way to systemically reject every pet name because saying your name like a promise is enough— i’m putting this love into the world because i no longer live in a world where i go a second without it. Phil saves photos of Dan looking at him like he hung the stars, and he saves photos of Dan walking in front of him— he would never save them, as an Orpheus, but thankfully he doesn’t have to anymore, not after 2019— and he saves photos of Dan happy, because he wants to save that, too. Phil will save photos from every era of Dan’s life, but he wants those photos the most.

Phil has seen Dan perform in front of thousands. he has seen Dan pass out from standing up too quickly in their living room. he has seen Dan stumble home from a unexpected solo walk, he has seen Dan try to hide his fear-to-death in Phil’s childhood bedroom, he has seen Dan try to use a laundry machine, he has seen Dan in every way a person could: i love you.

Dan knows all of this. Dan sends Phil photos of himself when he’s solo traveling for his tour; the two of them almost never call, not unless Dan’s in a cab, but they regularly facetime. Dan winces at old photos of himself, but Phil coos at them.

Phil Lester is a romantic. he likes to hold his love to his chest— sharing photographs, but careful not to share too much. i think we under-estimate the shift Phil had to make, sometimes, in 2019: coming out was a major deal to him, too, even if he had already been out to some. more than that, coming out while Dan was also out is a very different experience. still, he likes to stay private, which is why we’ve not seen what i imagine to be hundreds of photos of Dan in Phil’s arms, or Dan kissing him on the cheek, or Dan asleep beside him in his bed (because we know how often he takes photos of Dan asleep, but i can't even begin to get into that right now).

even still, from what we can see, God, it’s everything, isn’t it? i can’t imagine what it felt like, for Dan, first trying to reconcile all of this. when you go so long without experiencing a safe kind of love, your reality fundamentally shifts. everything is brittle: you have to be hard enough to survive it, but not too hard to break the little you have entirely. half of you is a secret, the other half of you feels like it should be— who you are shifts, when you are loved, so in the reverse: when you go so long without it you feel displaced internally. when you find that love, you throw yourself entirely into it, expecting nothing but wanting everything. you punch a wall only to feel the plaster cradle your touch; you tell yourself you’d never turn back and you hate that need to; you expect to hit the sea but the wax never seems to melt. impossibly, you are okay. maybe i showed too much of my own heart there, but when i look at 2009 Dan, i see all of that. eighteen years old, and for the first time since he was a tiny child, he actually felt safe.

because Phil says Dan like it’s the sweetest word in the world. because Phil has a hunger for everything Dan creates. because Phil held Dan when he dropped out of university, picked up his first radio job with him, moved in with him, and never left. because Phil never treated Dan like an experience to hide away. Phil loved parts of Dan back into life.

because Phil takes photographs of Dan, everywhere in his life, to say: this is my world, now. you can’t take a photo in the daylight without capturing the sun. you can’t take a photo in the nighttime without capturing the absence of it. Phil says Dan’s name in every video, and he takes another hundred photos, because he’s so fucking sure about this love. there’s not even a question to be asked.

this is only a fraction of what there is to say about it, some messily constructed analysis, but it's hard to capture. i'd call Dan a lucky bastard, but it's hardly luck, is it? Phil makes the decision to love Dan every single day, and it might look quiet, but it's so unfathomably loud.

[kikyan]

Hellfire

Cw: Yandere content means Yandere content y’all, dub-con, stalking, obsessive behavior, abuse of power, Father/Priest! Rollo (AS IN PRIEST NOT INCEST), masturbation, body worship, oral (GN! Reader receiving), fingering, riding, religious themes, etc

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 

Pairing: Rollo x GN! Reader 

Words: 9.5K 

A/N: Everyone look at your calendars and do you see how in reality it isn’t a New Year but rather Halloween and this Halloween special is coming out on the day it was meant to and not almost 3 months later? Fantastic, moving on. . .enjoy :)) 

A/N2: I want to preface this by saying that this fic does have religion/religious themes. This is not an accurate portrayal either, so please do not come for me-! I did grow up catholic but in my teen years became a full atheist so anything said in this fic is me recalling my childhood. Also, I googled bible verses because I don’t remember any and they were all in Spanish so, yeah. . .enjoy! :))

The bells rang throughout Fleur City, signaling the start of Sunday mass. The crowd gathered, rushing to find any available seats to sit down on. Those unfortunate would have to stand, as they did not dare miss the mass. Father Rollo was an exceptional man, his voice and words rang throughout the church and captivated everyone who was blessed to be in his presence. He handled himself professionally, standing with an upright posture and his head was always looking ahead. He was truly a man befitting to be god's messenger. Fleur City was fortunate to have Father Rollo, he was a man adored by his people and [Reader] was no different. They were locked on Father Rollo who strutted with confidence,

 “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you” 

His eyes locked with [Reader]. They broke away from his eyes but could still feel his piercing eyes on them. 

“I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” 

Cheers erupted from within the church the moment he finished his sentence. Mass was shortly concluded after the church staff asked for donations. Plenty of people offered whatever they could spare, but it was appreciated. The church was emptying but a few others stayed behind to have a few words with Father Rollo. [Reader] stayed seated but looked over at Father Rollo from the corner of their eye. He was attending to the people and their needs, he truly was a virtuous man. They averted their gaze when they saw Father Rollo turn to them. He bid goodbye to the troubled crowd. His heeled shoes echoed loudly through the emptying church, stopping in front of [Reader]. 

“[Reader], good morning. How have you been?” 

“Oh. . good morning, Father Rollo. I’ve been well, how about you?” 

“It has been a pleasant morning so far and I can only pray that it shall remain that way. Though I will say, it’s certainly comforting knowing you’re here. I did not see you anywhere last week.” 

“R-Right. . .my apologies. It certainly wasn’t my intention to miss last week’s mass, but I’m afraid I did end up catching a cold. It has since passed and I feel quite better.” 

“ You ought to take care of yourself, [Reader]. It would be a shame if something terrible happened to you. You are, after all, our number one devotee here at the Church. It would be rather quiet and lonely if you were to go.” 

“Ha ha, it was only a cold Father Rollo, not the plague. I assure you, I am fine. Besides, I’m pretty strong enough to handle an illness.” 

[Reader] returned a smile to Rollo, whose face remained expressionless, but his eyebrows furrowed upwards in un-amusement.  

“That you are, you have God’s protection as one of his children. Alas, I must be off. Till next we meet, [Reader].” 

Rollo turned around and left the main hall, leaving [Reader] alone. It was only for a split second, but he turned around to gaze at them again. 

~ 

[Reader] was in love with Rollo. Their greatest sin that would be known to the dead once they passed. They remember their first meeting, plain as day, unlike that stormy night where this story takes place. 

There was a storm and it was pouring. The kind that people were warned to stay indoors because of the severity, yet here [Reader] was running to the middle of the town where the church lay. Their face was coated in rainwater which made it almost impossible to keep their eyes open, they were struggling to breathe, and the cold that accompanied the storm did little to help. They were staggering over to the Church. 

“[READER!] GET BACK HERE NOW AND I MIGHT FORGIVE YOU!” 

Panic rose and they didn’t dare look back, for if they did, surely it would be their last. They didn’t dare scream for help, because they knew their cries would be drowned by the storm. They finally made it to the center, running up the stairs of the cathedral, and lunged to the door. No surprise that it was locked. 

“[READER]! STOP!”

“L-LEAVE ME ALONE! SANCTUARY, PLEASE GIVE ME SANCTUARY!” 

[Reader] pleaded and began to hit the doors with all their might. The person who was no doubt chasing after them continued their pursuit. They were approaching the steps and soon, close enough to reach out to [Reader]. Just in the nick of time, the door opened enough for [Reader] to throw themselves inside. They landed on the cold stone floors and used whatever strength they had to scramble away from the door. They looked up to see a skinny man with a pale face, green-blue eyes, dark bags under his eyes, and silver hair behind the door. He was adorned in an ankle-long robe and wore black-heeled loafers. His outfit certainly was nothing too fancy, then again it was the middle of the night. 

“S-Sanctuary! P-please, give me sanctuary!” 

“What seems to be the matter-!?” 

The man turned to them but was cut from the person chasing after [Reader]. 

“[Reader]! C’mere, now.” 

The anger in his voice disappeared but there was sternness laced in his request. The silver-haired man turned to the other person. The storm showered them, and the mud that they tracked in did not go unnoticed by the silver-haired man. 

“Forgive me. My name is Rollo Flamme, I am one of the priests here. May I ask what seems to be the issue? I certainly did not expect there to be anyone leisuring out in the streets with the storm raging outside.” 

The silver-haired man, now named ‘Rollo’, asked. Rollo turned to the person outside with an unamused expression. 

“Father Rollo, pardon the intrusion. You see, that person over there is named [Reader], they're my partner. My partner also suffers from an unstable state of mind. It would be best if we returned-!?” 

“Father Rollo, is everything alright?” 

They all turned to look at an elderly woman who no doubt worked for the church. Rollo shook his head and the woman took it as a sign to approach the door. 

“Everything is alright here, there is no need for the both of you to concern yourselves over our issues. Me and [Reader] would be taking our leave-!?” 

“I think not. It would be against everything we stand for if we turned away someone who came to this holy place and asked for sanctuary. I apologize, but I’ll be asking for you to leave. Madam, take this one,” 

Rollo turned to face [Reader], 

“This one inside. Run them a warm bath and please get them a fresh set of clothes. As for you, sir. . please leave.” 

[Reader’s] partner scoffed and stepped forward, 

“I wouldn’t recommend that.” 

He stopped after Rollo’s warning. Soon, others started to arrive within the church, including the guards. [Reader’s] partner glared at Rollo but decided against their actions. They just scoffed and went outside. The church’s door was shut and locked following his departure. 

[Reader] had been sitting on the floor, trying to steady their breathing. Rollo walked over to them and helped them off their feet. 

“You’re safe here in the house of God, he cannot hurt you any longer.” 

Rollo then walked away, moving people to their station leaving [Reader] alone with the Madam. 

“Come child, let’s get you out of those freezing clothes and into a warm bath.” 

That was the first time they met Rollo. 

Several weeks later, [Reader] was still within the church and assisting in any way they could. They would sometimes join the community in cleaning the church, making meals to provide during the holidays, and so forth. They were currently helping the volunteers make bread until Rollo arrived in the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Father Rollo! How may we assist you?” 

The elderly woman asked Rollo, who turned to face her. 

“Good morning, Madam. I see you’re all hard at work assisting the church so I won’t take up too much of your time. May I speak with [Reader]?” 

At the mention of their name, [Reader] perked up. The Madam turned to them and asked, 

“Of course, is that alright?” 

[Reader] nodded, dropping their task and washing their hands. They turned to look at Rollo who nodded, 

“This way, please.” 

Rollo led the way to his office and closed the door once they were both inside. He turned to them and offered the chair across from his. 

“Sit, please. Good morning, [Reader]. How are you this morning?” 

“Father Rollo. . .great. This morning has been great so far, busy but no complaints from me yet! How about yours?” 

“Fine, busy as well but such is life as God’s servant. Now, I wanted to discuss some things with you. The man that pursued you when you arrived at our doorsteps, I presume you would be content knowing that he has since left the town. He is no longer residing in Fleur City.” 

[Reader] let out a sigh of relief, since the day they arrived at the steps of the cathedral they have been residing within it. All housing was provided by the church as well as their meals. They weren’t expected to assist with the chores at the church, but they felt it was the least they could do. They would leave to go into town occasionally but always went with a guide or a guard in case anything happened. Rollo had made arrangements for them to avoid any further issues. They weren’t aware that their partner who had tormented them relentlessly had left the city or had any plans to. 

“Thank you. . . Father Rollo. I appreciate you informing me.” 

“ Of course, now that he has permanently left Fleur City we can arrange to get you a small place within the city. Don’t worry, if you still wish to assist the Church it will be nearby and the place will be within the guard's post. The area will be carefully monitored and maintained.” 

“Father Rollo. . that’s too much. I appreciate all you have done since that day, but asking for my living quarters would be too much-!” 

“Nonsense. You requested sanctuary from the church and since then, we have worked hard to provide that for you. It’s no trouble at all, you’re a precious child of God after all and he never abandons his children.” 

Rollo faced [Reader] who was deep in thought. A place to stay without the haunting memories of their partner who could care less about them. [Reader] turned their gaze to Rollo and smiled, 

“Thank you for your kindness, Father Rollo.” 

From then, [Reader] had been living in the house provided by the church. Their place was warm and cozy, but most importantly, theirs. As days went by, [Reader] continued to attend weekly mass and stayed behind to help the community with events. Though Rollo was a well-known priest, he certainly wasn’t the only one present in the cathedral. The community had gotten together to thank the priests and were thinking of how to repay each one. The madam took the request and decided to host a small celebration for them with food and games for the community. 

The entire town was invited to attend and they did, for there was no greater honor than celebrating their townsmen. Rollo stood in the center, overseeing the event rather than partaking in it like the other priests. He saw how his colleagues engaged with the town, his eyes were trained on them. They had no problem mingling with others and taking the front while Rollo chose to stay behind. 

“Are you not enjoying yourself, Father Rollo?” 

He turned to the voice, it was [Reader]. 

“I am, but conversing with others isn’t something I do quite well at. I leave that task, to the others. What about you, [Reader]?” 

“Oh, I am as well. I too, don’t tend to mingle with others, at least not in events like this. It’s still taking me a while to adjust to being in control of my own life.” 

Rollo spared a glance at [Reader] who sadly reminisced. Their partner would often take control of the conversation and not allow [Reader] to speak. They would often leave [Reader] in social gatherings to fend for themselves and never acknowledge their feelings. After a while and per their adored partner’s request, stopped leaving their shared home. This resulted in [Reader] self-isolating.  

“I see. Often, just being in the company of someone you trust is more than enough at events like these. However I do hope that moving forward, we can heal from the past.” 

Socializing wasn’t his strong suit; if he did, it was always formal and respectful. There was no time for jokes or silly banter, that is why Rollo helped Fleur City behind the scenes. He handled all formal matters while the others tended to the city with their words and charisma. Even now, his words of comfort were formal and didn’t properly convey his feelings. 

“One day, I will join the crowd again and this time, maybe I can take you with me, Father Rollo. Oh, by the way, I have something for you.” 

Rollo faced [Reader] who was looking into their pocket. 

“Here! I know it doesn’t mean much and it’s certainly a very cheap gift, but I want to express my gratitude. Thank you for all that you’ve done, Father Rollo. Without you, I don’t think I would be here with the Madam and the Town, so thank you.” 

He looked at his hands to see a wine-red handkerchief with purple embroidery on the outer edges, his name was woven into the corner. It was a simple gift really, but the difference with most gifts that he received was that this was hand-made. Handmade with love, love from the person that he cared the most about. Rollo stammered, 

“T-Thank you, I shall keep this with me at all times. It’s lovely, [Reader].” 

[Reader] turned to see his eyes gazing deeply at theirs. It was different, unlike a small expression of gratitude with professionalism laced Rollo’s eyes betrayed him. Behind his eyes, desire and love peeked through, even if it was for a split moment. 

“Of course. . .my pleasure, Father Rollo.” 

Rollo was called shortly after to attend to a matter within the cathedral, but before parting from [Reader], he promised he would return promptly. Rollo left and attended the matter fairly quickly, but before leaving to meet up with [Reader], he walked to his office. Locking the door, he took out the handkerchief and brought it up to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent from it. 

‘[Reader]’ 

Rollo recalled the memory of when he first laid eyes on them. It wasn’t anything too special, he was just in town when he stumbled upon them. Rollo has observed throughout his life all the filth from others and their actions. [Reader] had remained a pure innocent soul devoid of any sins. 

‘ Humans are sinful creatures and  that is why we exist. . .’ 

Rollo had engraved that concept into his mind. There are 7 sins within mankind - pride, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, greed, and lust. Humans will lie, cheat, steal, manipulate, and take advantage of others for personal greed. In reality, society has failed itself and remains to be a stain on this world. [Reader] was a positive chum, but was a sight to behold in a world of sin. 

Rollo was walking through town, which was a rare sight considering the only place you could glance at him would be in the cathedral. He noticed hidden behind a stall that there was a child, looking confused and scared. 

‘ No doubt lost.’ 

Rollo thought to himself but did not step forward just yet. He recalled a conversation he had with the Madam, a woman whom he respected as she was not like the others either. She had devoted herself to the church and helping others after the passing of her husband.  She would confess that no human was free of sin, but that didn’t mean that they were undeserving of God’s love and a place in his kingdom. It was silly, but he remembered what he told her after, 

“You’re right Madam, everyone is worthy of God’s love. Though do not underestimate humanity’s free will, some of them choose to sin and relish in their filth.”  

The madam shook her head and reminded Rollo that he should not be so quick to place judgment on others, but it was futile. 

He recalled that memory as he saw the scene displayed in front of him, a defenseless child turning to adults begging for help. Those same ‘adults’ had brushed the child off and some even as far to push the child away. 

“P-Please, I can’t find my mommy-” 

“Not interested.” 

“Stay clear of the road! Damn, brats. . .” 

‘Are these the same people who deserve God’s love, Madam?’

Rollo began walking to the child but stopped when he noticed another individual walk up to the child, 

“My name is [Reader], are you lost? Did you lose your parents?” 

The child nodded and [Reader] lightly brushed the tears that were forming away, 

“I see, well let me try to help you find them. When did you see them last?” 

“I saw my mommy over there. . .” 

The child pointed towards the growing crowd. In theory, this mother could be anywhere but if she was observant then no doubt she noticed her child missing. [Reader] nodded and held out their hand to the child, asking permission to hold their hand. The child allowed it, letting [Reader] lead them into the crowd. The child's grip tightened, afraid to lose their newfound savior. Rollo followed them, wanting to make sure that this child wasn’t going to be kidnapped. He saw how ‘[Reader]’ was holding onto the child and stopping in the area, asking the child if they saw their mother. When the child shook their head, [Reader] would begin calling out if someone lost their child. The town was busy and [Reader’s] cries were lost to the wind, but they did not lose their determination. After half an hour, Rollo heard a woman frantically calling out what was probably the child's name as the child perked up at the mention of it. [Reader] carefully maneuvered their way across the crowd to reunite the mother and child. Rollo witnessed the scene of the mother and child holding each other close, the mother turning to [Reader] and thanking them, and [Reader] reassuring them. Rollo scoffed, one person was not enough to persuade his mind that humanity was any different. It didn’t just stop there, weeks after the incident they had another run-in with them - at a distance, of course. 

[Reader] was in the market with the intent of buying groceries, but instead offered to help the people at the stands. It was a never-ending cycle, when they finished their task another person went to them asking for help. 

‘They’re a fool, they’re being taken advantage of by the others-’ 

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mind helping but I haven’t finished my shopping. When I finish and if you still need help I can come back.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry [Reader], I didn’t mean to take up your time! It’s fine if you can’t, but thank you anyway.” 

[Reader] politely excused themselves and finished their shopping. A couple of instances off the top of his head that Rollo remembered, [Reader] buying food for a beggar on the street, helping an elderly person cross the street, helping a cat out of their collar once they noticed it was choking from it, and when they helped stitch back up a child's toy once it was ruined. Rollo was getting irritated at this point, 

‘Madam, I swear it’s like you enjoy tormenting me. . .are you trying to prove a point?’ 

The scowl written on his face was unwavering as he continued to observe this happy-go-lucky person. He managed to overhear the conversation between [Reader] and another person. 

“You’re so nice [Reader], it’s so rare to find someone who cares about people the way you do!” 

“You think so? I don’t think I am doing anything too grand, I just do what comes normal to me.” 

“Yes! You have a heart of gold, I mean you offer to help when needed. You should be careful though, people out there would take advantage of that kindness.” 

“Hm, I guess. I mean, I just do what I can but if it’s too much or something I can’t do I’m not opposed to saying no. I think a lot of people just think I’m too nice because they’re just used to being treated with little kindness. I don’t want to be a bystander if I can do something. I hold the door for people if they’re close and I’m not going to shut the door on them, it’s not like it takes too much time.” 

“Aw, you’re so nice.” 

“I don’t think so, I mean would you shut the door on me if I was behind you?” 

“Well. . .” 

“Then you’re just too mean.” 

[Reader] and the person exchanged a laugh before parting ways. Rollo stood still and turned to see [Reader] back in the distance, leaving the marketplace. His resolve didn’t sway, humans were still corrupt and undeserving of salvation, the only difference now was that there was an exception. Rollo would be lying if he sometimes didn’t go into town to glance at [Reader] and if he was lucky enough, he would be there at the same time. Over months though, he began to see less and less of them. He started to worry a bit, for the first weeks he chalked it up to [Reader] wanting time away from town but was surprised to know that nobody had seen them in the market for a month. Rollo approached a vendor, starting small talk, 

“Good morning, Father Rollo. How do you do today?” 

“I’m quite fine, thank you for asking. How about yourself?”

“Aw well, same! Business has been booming but I haven’t seen my top customer in a while!” 

“Oh, and who is that?” 

“[Reader]! They’re a sweet thing but suddenly stopped coming into town. I won’t lie, I am a little worried about them.” 

“[Reader]? I don’t believe I’ve seen them at mass. . .” 

“]Reader] used to go if I remember correctly, but I’m not too sure. I know they used to into town daily, aside from their work they loved to walk around the city. I think they stopped coming out as much a year or two ago, sometimes though they’ll come daily but it’s so rare when they do! I’m not quite sure why-!” 

“It’s because of their partner!” 

Rollo and the vendor turned to another person, an elderly lady who had joined the conversation. 

“Their partner. . .?” 

Rollo questioned, 

“Yes! At first, it was sweet. They met at [Readers’s] work and instantly became close, I would sometimes frequent their workplace you see. Their partner treated them with so much kindness but after a while, it was plain as day, he was isolating them! I remember I was walking home when I overheard them get into an argument, he wanted [Reader] to quit their job. [Reader] refused and that was the end of it, I’m not sure how they managed to persuade him because all I could hear was his yelling. After a while, [Reader] didn’t come to work and I thought they did quit, but when they came back they weren’t the same. They were still kind as ever, but you could tell something was off. Whenever they do come into town, it’s because their partner isn’t in Fleur City. I heard he sometimes goes back to take care of his ill parents.” 

Rollo was conflicted, who was this woman to be spreading such personal information of theirs but he had to thank her, without her, he never would have come to realize what needed to be done. Rollo had to admit, over the time he spent observing [Reader] he did become enamored with them. One true nature is revealed in several ways, how one presents oneself, their thoughts and actions, and what one preaches. Their nature had long been revealed, [Reader] was the only person whom Rollo believed was deserving of God’s love and he would not let them become a martyr for those deserving the flames of hell. 

Rollo set his plan in motion. He carefully wrote a letter and paid someone who the town would never recognize to deliver it into the hands of [Reader’s] partner. Their partner read the contents and before they could react, the person who delivered it had vanished to report to Rollo. 

“It’s been done?” 

“Yes, Father Rollo. May I ask though, what do you plan-” 

“That’s enough, you needn't worry about the content of the letter. Your task was to deliver, which you have. You’re free to go.” 

The man excused himself, leaving Rollo at his desk with his elbows propped but his hands were close together. He was deep in thought, 

“He would be wise to appear later tonight if he truly cares for his parents.” 

Later that night, their partner had walked down to the waterways. There, they met a cloaked individual. 

“Are you the one who sent me that letter? Who the fuck do you think you are to threaten my family-!” 

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” 

The cloaked individual placed their hand out, to halt them from coming closer. They used that same hand to point upwards. When [Reader’s] partner looked up, they were met with several shadows who were not afraid to display their weapons. 

“What do you want?” 

Their partner scoffed out. The cloaked individual spoke out, 

“You have a partner by the name of [Reader]. Let’s just say that they owe me something, that being said it’s hard for us to come in contact with one another. This is where you come in, I need you to lure them into town. Do it on a rainy day, when there are fewer people to overhear, but I need you to lure them to the center of town. Make sure that nobody sees you two or asks about you, do you understand?” 

“What do they owe you-?!” 

“That’s none of your concern! Just, lure them into the center of the town. My men will be watching to make sure no one interferes but remember, if someone comes to find out about this plan. Well, you know what will happen to your family, understood?” 

Their partner gulped in fear and nodded, 

“You may go, and remember to not tell a single soul about this. I’ll always be listening.” 

They remained still for a brief moment, processing the words of the individual, before running out. Once they were out of sight, the person removed their cloak. Rollo stood in the center, looking at the moon and breathing out a sigh of relief. Those armed shadows turned to Rollo and asked, 

“Father Rollo, may I ask who that man is?” 

“Just someone this world would be better without. Keep me updated on his location and if he says anything. Remember, this is all to protect Fleur City.” 

Rollo disappeared within the waterways. 

Rollo approached the fireplace in his office and looked down at the handkerchief once more before tenderly caressing it into his face. 

“[Reader], I’ll repeat your name over and over like a prayer, I’d never tire of it. . .if only you knew of all things I did for you to be by my side. . .” 

The memory rolled over in his head, 

“There is a storm coming, we should make preparations in case of anything.” 

“Oh, you’re always so diligent and a step ahead, Father Rollo.” 

“Madam, one can never be too prepared.” 

The madam shook her head at Rollo’s comments but carried out his request. He had stood in preparation for anything. If what was revealed was true, then [Reader] was certainly being isolated by their partner. Their abusive partner would take advantage of another. That being said, he planned to make it so that they lured [Reader] out into the center of town, where the cathedral lay. Their partner may not know it as he was certain he had never seen him before but [Reader] should. They would request sanctuary from the church and there, He would be by the door, awaiting his beloved with open arms. 

Before he knew it, he could hear the shouts and screams outside the door. 

“Sanctuary, give me sanctuary!” 

Before long, Rollo had opened the door and with a perfect facade, displayed concern. He could tell the way their partner trembled that he had feared for his family, he was caught by the church. Their partner had no choice but to flee the scene with their tail between his legs. After Rollo instructed the Madam to watch over [Reader], Rollo had the guards chase after their partner. In the meantime, Rollo had placed his cloak on and made his way to the outskirts of town where he was being held. 

“L-Let me go! Damn it, it wasn’t my fault-!” 

“Didn’t I tell you not to let anyone interfere?” 

“I-it wasn’t my fault! The church and that stupid priest got in the way! P-please leave my f-family alone-!” 

Rollo removed his cloak and presented himself to their ex-partner. 

“Y-you!?” 

“Don’t worry, your family won’t suffer. Though I will admit, I didn’t think you would go through with sacrificing them.” 

“Y-You threatened my family, w-why wouldn’t I?” 

“I suppose there is some logic to that reason. Tell me, did you even love them?” 

“W-what? I-I suppose I did?” 

“You suppose? You’re not certain?” 

Rollo questioned them further, 

“I mean yes! Yes, I did love them! W-what does this have to do with anything, you said they owed you something no-?” 

“ No, they don’t. I did this more to see what you would do and you played right into it. Once again, I was proved right. Humanity is undeserving of God’s love and salvation, you’re all just scum that turn against each other at any moment it’s convenient. You disgust me.” 

“Y-You did this to prove a point!? Y-You think I won’t reveal to the townspeople who their beloved priest is?” 

“Not very intelligent either, are you? I’m not worried, because this is where judgment shall be passed onto you. This goes a little deeper than what you think, but no matter. I hereby declare you, guilty, and your sentence, punished by death. Dispose of him.” 

Rollo turned around, ignoring the pleas of that man. He did turn around to see their execution, before turning back. 

“We shall burn his body, but in the meantime place him somewhere no one will find out. Oh and, arrange for someone to take care of his parents. Hire a doctor to live with them.” 

The others nodded and carried out the order. Rollo headed back to town with a clear conscious. 

His attention remained on the flames. They had burned his body and afterward, devised a plan to break the news to his parents.  As far as they were concerned, he had passed away from a natural cause but because he was such a good member of the church, he was able to have a doctor stay with them full-time. He placed a chaste kiss on the handkerchief, 

‘This burning desire is turning me to sin. . .’ 

~ 

Rollo was sitting at the Confessional and while he was a man of God, he was also human. Like humans, he was running short of his patience. Father Rollo was a devoted man to his occupation, but of course, even messengers of God need time of their own. He was covering for another priest, Father Phoebus, who unexpectedly became ill. Rollo’s face turned into one of annoyance and anger, he was certain that the priest wasn’t ill but rather skipping out on his duties. 

‘ No matter, confession ends in about 10 minutes. . .I just need to hold out till then.’ 

Rollo’s optimistic outlook was shattered the moment he heard someone else sit on the other side of the confessional. He rolled his eyes before turning to the wooden lattice opening but stiffened when he saw it was [Reader]. Luckily, this confessional was designed so that the priest would be hidden away and the penitent was visible. 

“I do apologize for coming in so late, Father Phoebus. . but I would like to confess my sins.” 

Rollo cleared his throat, 

“Of course, please, confess to me what ails you.” 

He placed his gaze at [Reader], who remained unaware that instead of Father Phoebus, it was Rollo. 

“Right, to be honest, I’m not quite sure where to begin. All I know is, I’m committing a grave sin. I ... . .in love with a man that I cannot have. He is married to a vow.” 

Rollo’s breath hitched, turned to stare at [Reader] who looked down in regret and disappointment.

“M-married? May I ask, which vow this man is married to?” 

[Reader] stiffened at the question, 

“Father Phoebus. . .it's Father Rollo who I am enamored with. He is God's messenger and as such, I know my feelings will never be reciprocated yet! Yet, I can’t help but still love him.” 

Rollo knew that Reader required guidance and genuine support, but he couldn’t help the need or desire after hearing that the one he loved also felt the same. He pulled out the wine-red handkerchief with the beautiful purple embroidery that outlined the cloth and spelled his name on the corner. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it as his dick hardened at the idea of [Reader]. 

“T-tell me, how much you love him?” 

Rollo swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“O-Oh w-well. . .” 

It was an awkward question no doubt so there was some resistance from [Reader]. Rollo pressed on, 

“I would like to know how deep your admiration goes so that I c-can properly guide you.” 

“R-right. . well, I love him. At first, I thought it was just admiration because he helped me get back on my feet. When I gave him his handkerchief, I saw more than a simple thanks on his face, but a face of genuine gratitude, which made me fall deeper. I know he’s only being kind to me because it’s the right thing to do and not because of any special treatment, but I can’t help but-” 

Rollo continued to listen to their feelings, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t thinking about stroking his cock to their voice. Rollo had never experienced such feelings towards anyone before, but after meeting [Reader] he became a victim of the sin of greed and lust. 

“Though I will admit, maybe the reason I love him is because I feel safe and secure with him. With my past partner, I didn’t feel the same sense of security. I did at first, but after a while, they became the aggressor. I’m not sure why I didn’t leave immediately after and I kept beating myself up about but Father Rollo, assured me that it was not my fault. He was so kind and understanding, it was different from the others who told me something similar. It was sincere from both sides, but with him it was. . it was different.” 

When they finished confessing, Rollo spoke, 

“I don’t think you should be ashamed of your feelings. It’s a natural human thing to feel, love that is. You’re right, Father Rollo is a man tied to an oath by the Church. Under the eyes of God, he may not reciprocate your feelings but that doesn’t mean he would see you any less different. Your sins are forgiven, my child.” 

[Reader] nodded and bid farewell to ‘Father Phoebus’. Rollo watched their figure retreat and let out a breath of relief. Though he could not stop the pounding in his heart nor the tent in his pants. 

~ 

“F-Fuck! [R-Reader]-!” 

Rollo had retreated to his office once confessions were over, there he had his handkerchief wrapped around his dick, jerking himself off. The one that he loved felt the same for him but he was sure their love was not the same as his obsession with them. Such a pure and innocent crush on him whereas he shamefully was stroking his cock to the idea of touching them. 

“Ha. . ha. . wanna t-touch you, fuck-!” 

He threw his head back at the pleasure, how would [Reader] react to seeing their beloved Father Rollo fuck the handkerchief that they had gifted him. His orgasm was approaching and his whines were getting louder, he leaned over his table and spilled his seed onto the wine-red cloth, sweat adorning his face. He let out a sigh of relief and sat down on his chair. He thought of [Reader] and this new found confession. Rollo’s mind was made up. 

~ 

“I think we’re all good to go, [Reader] we’re heading out now!” 

“Have a good night!” 

[Reader] bid the other church volunteers farewell before giving the church one last good look. They were about to grab their things to depart as well before the doors opened. They turned to look at Father Rollo, who emerged from his office. 

“F-Father Rollo. . .what brings you out here so late?” 

“I’m just giving the Church one final look, but I did hope to catch you before you left.” 

“Me?” 

“Yes, come [Reader], take a walk with me.” 

[Reader] approached Rollo and their walk began. He was taking them across the Cathedral to put out the candles. 

“I know it’s been a while, but how have you been enjoying yourself in Fleur City?” 

“Oh, just fine! Thank you again, for all that you’ve done of course. It certainly feels amazing being able to freely leave and return without being shackled down. Not to mention, it’s a lot more eventful than I remember.” 

“I see, Father Pheobus has attempted to get more events hosted by the church. He would like the city to get together once in a while. It’s something new that he has been doing, but it seems that the townspeople enjoy it.” 

“That they do, may I ask, Father Rollo? Do you not like to get involved in events like these?” 

The main hall of the Cathedral was darkening with each step, 

“I wouldn’t say I dislike it. Socializing with others isn’t my strong suit, I tend to other matters that I excel at rather than mistakenly saying something I don’t mean.” 

[Reader] had noticed that Rollo tended to stay in the shadows and only speak when something needed to be said. If someone approached him and tried conversing, Rollo would maintain the utmost professionalism. He wasn’t one for idle chatter but never turned someone down if they wanted to have a word with him. Rollo continued his task, with [Reader] following close behind. 

“That’s fair. Sometimes not saying anything is the proper response, but I can see how that may stress you out. After all, you are a priest and everyone’s eyes are on you. Sorry, don’t mean to add to the pressure either.” 

As the candles were extinguished one by one, Rollo’s heels added to the ominous vibe that the Cathedral was giving. 

“You’re right, [Reader]. As a priest, all their eyes are on me waiting to hear what I  say but as such, my eyes are also on them. Despite what I preach, I believe that not everyone is capable of salvation. Humans are not devoid of sin, that is the truth. Though we are created in God’s image, we certainly are not perfect. There are those where their sins are mistakes and nothing more. Then some’s sins are perfectly under their control yet still choose to see nothing wrong in their actions. You can have that outlier where one of those wishes to repent and truly feel regret, but then some parade around shamelessly into God’s house asking for forgiveness. It’s laughable.” 

[Reader] remained silent. There was nothing they could say because ultimately, Father Rollo was right to some degree. Though they would be lying if they weren’t off-put by his sudden change. 

“ Did you know that the baker is having an affair? Ongoing for four years actually, yet he never fails to bring his wife and kids into mass every Sunday morning, thanking God for allowing them to live the way they do. They recently had their marriage anniversary, married for 10 years to be exact. I remember I was the one who renewed their vows. His words still ring in my head,”

“I will love you forever and until the end. You’re the pillar that provides me with the strength to keep going. I would never want another partner other than you, the woman I chose to be the mother of my children. I thank God for this blessing that is you, my love.” 

“How romantic, don’t you think? That same night he went back to his other partner, claiming that they had a big order for an event and he needed to be one step ahead of the game. How could I forget the previous head of the Orphanage, asking for food to provide for the children? The church and townspeople helped with what they could, but every time those children would come into mass they remained as thin as ever but the head remained full and content. It wasn’t until I stepped in and of course, led an investigation to find out that he was starving the kids and eating all the food. Now the orphanage is under the care of the Church, to be more specific, under my direct care. Don’t you see how happy those children are every time you come to mass? I even remember when Madam first came to the church, she told us the story of her husband's passing. She and her beloved husband were walking back home when an armed assailant was waiting for them, upon asking for their valuables he stabbed her husband over 27 times before fleeing. When the man was caught, he was just a petty thief who confessed to the crime. Their reasoning was they had no need to steal but got a kick out of watching the fear in the eyes of the defenseless manifest and to make matters worse, this was his first time killing since he never dared to do it before. What could an elderly man do to him had he chosen to fight back, nothing. That same thief pleaded with God before his execution that I had carried out, to spare him.” 

By the time Rollo had gotten to his part in his talk, almost all the candles were out except for four in the front of the altar. There Rollo turned around, facing [Reader] who stood in the middle closest to the altar. He was closest to the church doors but that area had been pitch black. He continued his speech and though he did not pose a threat to [Reader], yet, They couldn’t help the goosebumps that were forming on their skin and the sudden draft within the Cathedral. 

“Of course, the world is not black and white. There is no right or wrong, for if there was I too would have been punished. It’s not practical for me to base my distaste of humanity on a few bad apples, Madam, even after everything she went through still says that everyone deserves salvation but it’s like you said, [Reader]. We’re all so used to this world the way it is that a simple act of kindness, normalcy if you will, is considered a rarity.” 

[Reader] had recalled when they told that vendor that, those were their words and they still stood by it. The only thing was, they told that to the vendor, not Rollo. They shakily took a step back but kept their eyes trained on Rollo. He noticed their expression as well as their stance, but it was no use. The door to the church was locked and only Rollo had the key. He took a step forward, emerging from the darkness and [Reader] took a step back. 

“F-Father Rollo. . is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Sorry. . I just don’t know how this relates to me. . .” 

He let out a chuckle, 

“ You asked why I don’t like to get involved, right? That is my answer. It’s hard to get involved when I am surrounded by the same people I wish I could condemn. However, you are different. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I too have been keeping an eye on you long before we officially met.  You treated everyone with kindness even those that did not deserve it. You remained as human as possible, someone who could voice their feelings and care for everyone equally, even yourself. It was a sight for sore eyes, like an angel in a sea of devils. You tried your best and worked hard, but you knew what you could and couldn’t do. You were even starting to make me regain hope in this world but I quickly noticed that warm light inside of you start to flicker. It was all because of him, [Partner’s Name]. He had slowly started to dim that warm light inside of you and I couldn’t do anything, or so I thought. Your partner driving you out of your home was not accidental,  I can assure you. I had him lure you here, into the Church. There, I was able to save you from him.” 

[Reader’s] breath hitched. They had always assumed that all the events that led up to now were a mere coincidence, life just being its usual confusing self. It was not unusual for their partner to enter their shared home and demand things, bossing them around. They had assumed that it was the usual same old story. This didn’t change how they saw their partner and their relief that he was no longer in their life, but it changed their perception of Rollo. Had Rollo orchestrated their whole thing? Since when? For how long? Most importantly, for what? 

“Since we are in a church, I might as well confess. I have kept my eye on every single Fleur citizen since I became a priest, but I have kept my eye on you for months now. It’s hard for me to communicate with everyone, but not you [Reader]. Since I’ve been admiring you from a distance, I’ve come to love you. I love your person and your way of being. Your kindness, your truth, your struggles, everything about you I have come to love.” 

By now, [Reader] was up against the altar with Rollo standing in front of them. Both were illuminated by the remaining candles, his hand reached out to caress their cheek. 

“I’ve come to love everything about you, [Reader], even the parts that you aren’t aware of. I’ll remain to love them as well, for there is no one else.” 

“F-Father R-Rollo, I-!” 

He leaned closer to them, his piercing blue-green eyes staring into [Readers] fearful and confused ones. He placed a kiss on their lips, tilting their head back to get a better angle. Seconds passed before he lifted his lips from them, 

“. .And if you were to fall into sin, let it be by my hands.” 

Conflicted could not begin to describe it. The person they loved reciprocated their feelings, so much that they kissed at this very moment. Though logically speaking, Rollo had just admitted to orchestrating the whole thing. Who knew what was the truth and what was a lie? Did their partner move? Was it willingly? Most importantly, did it matter? Sure, maybe there was a time when logic was sound but that time wasn’t right now. Thinking with their heart, [Reader] kissed back. They shared a deep and sensual kiss that neither one dared to break. Rollo pushed his body up against [Reader], grinding into them. The altar luckily wasn’t too high, but there were small steps on either side that allowed them to effortlessly get on the altar. Rollo managed to push their back flat against the cold marbled table, 

“F-Father R-Rollo, are you sure? Y-you’re a man with a vow and-” 

“[Reader], I love you.” 

Their eyes widened once more at the confession and looking up, they weren’t meant with the Rollo they knew. He was no longer stoic and professional, this Rollo was vulnerable. His cheeks were flushed pink as he straddled [Reader’s] hips. His body loomed over theirs and his hands went to open their top. His eyes were glossed over with love and desire. [Reader’s] top was opened to expose their chest and his hands lightly touched their skin. His cold fingers trailed from their neck, chest, and lastly their nipples. Rollo let out a shaky sigh, 

“I love you. Let me worship you, with God as my witness let me prove my devotion to you. .” 

Rollo’s lips neared [Reader’s] and they exchanged a kiss. He lightly bit on their bottom lip, asking for permission to further taste them. A moan escaped [Reader] but they opened their mouth to allow his tongue inside. Rollo pressed himself further into [Reader], afraid to let go. Needing air, [Reader] placed their hands on his clothed chest, pushing against it. Releasing their lips, Rollo straightened but released a breathy moan. [Reader] could see the warmth spreading across his pale skin, but could also feel his growing bulge. Rollo began to lean back down but stopped when [Reader] went to open his top. He allowed them to strip him of his shirt, allowing his pale chest to be exposed. 

“I want to see you too, R-Rollo. . .” 

The tip of his ears turned pink at the comment. He leaned down to their neck, licking up and down. Nibbling and biting down to create hickeys. His lips trailed down, kissing the skin around the newly formed hickey and down to their chest. Moans spilled from both Rollo and [Reader], the pleasure shared between the two. His tongue swirled around their nipple, lightly biting and sucking on them. [Reader] tenderly held Rollo’s head as he worked on their chest. Shaky breaths echoed throughout the Cathedral. 

“F-Fuck. . R-Rollo-!” 

Rollo lifted himself from their chest and saw the bright pink/red circular marks all across their chest. 

“Not enough. . .it’s not e-enough. . “ 

Rollo leaned back down, kissing down to their navel area. His hands played with their bottoms, opening them agonizingly slow. He pulled them down their legs and he shifted back, making sure he could properly remove them. 

“F-Fuck, y-your sex. . .” 

Rollo’s shaky moans slipped out, he stared in awe at [Reader’s] aroused sex. He shifted back before nearing their sex and inhaling their scent. Rollo’s fingers carefully touched around, going to their most sensitive spot and circling his finger around. 

“R-Rollo…right there…feels good….” 

Rollo nodded, continuing to circle his finger. After a while he leaned down, placing his tongue on their sensitive spot. He licked around, replacing the movement of his finger, and began to lick up and down. [Reader] let out soft moans and breaths as he continued pleasuring them. He began to kiss, suck, lick, pinch, and stroke their sensitive bits. Rollo took a break to lick his fingers and pushed them against [Reader’s] hole. Lightly inserting a finger inside, feeling them clench around it. 

“Do you lust for me. . the same way I lust for you?” 

“ I-I’ve a-always wanted you-ngh!” 

Though Rollo wasn’t attending to their sex with his mouth, he was still reaching inside them with his fingers. Slipping a second finger to curl up against that soft spot inside them, pumping rhythmically. Rollo leaned back down, placing his mouth back on their sex. Rollo himself wasn’t too experienced, but based on their sounds, he knew more or so where to touch. His long slender fingers managed to reach thoroughly and the stimulation with his tongue was overwhelming.

“F-Fuck Rollo, g-gonna cum-!” 

Rollo continued to abuse their sex, giving them that final push needed to orgasm. Rollo’s face was drenched with drool and cum, but still managed to swallow everything that they released. He unbuttoned his pants, releasing his cock that was already leaking pre-cum. He wrapped his hands around it, stroking himself. 

“Can I-fuck! P-put it inside you. . .?” 

Rollo’s half-lidded eyes pleaded with [Reader’s], begging to fuck them.  [Reader] propped themself up with their elbow, sat up, and kissed him. Rollo leaned forward to reciprocate. They placed their hands on his cheeks and lightly caressed, 

“You may. . .but can I. .be on top?” 

Rollo softly nodded, letting [Reader] guide him to lie down on the altar instead. [Reader] went to stimulate his already hard dick, but wrapped their hands around it and jerk him, smearing his pre-cum around. They licked their fingers and trailed them down to their hole, lightly fingering themselves to adjust to his size. They scissored themself and when they were ready, hovered over his cock. They lowered themselves onto Rollo’s cock, clenching down on his dick. 

“F-Fuck you’re tight-!” 

Rollo threw his head back at the sensation and his hands reached to hold [Reader’s] hip. [Reader] stayed still to adjust to his size but after a while, began to move. Riding his cock, [Reader] threw their head back as breaths left them, their back slowly arching. Rollo thrust, matching their pace as well. One of his hands moved to their sex, stimulating it at the same pace. 

Aside from the candles, the moonlight entered the Cathedral through the stained glass. The hue of the deep blues and purples reflected off their skin, creating an almost angelic glow. Their moans and whines echoed throughout the church, Rollo’s back was on the altar and his body coated in sweat. His eyes glossed over with tears, looking over at [Reader] who fared the same. Their body was sweaty and warm, their movements were slowing with time. Rollo’s thrust became more erratic, reaching deeper into [Reader]. 

“I-I’m close-! F-Fuck, f-feels s-so good-! Rollo!” 

Mewls spilled out of [Reader]’s mouth. 

“M-Me too-! I-I love you! L-Love you so much! God, I love you so much, [Reader]!” 

“I l-love you too, R-Rollo-!” 

With their final declaration of love, [Reader] came all over Rollo and he came deep inside of them. Their deep breaths were heard throughout the cathedral. [Reader] slumped on top of Rollo with his cock still inside them. They nuzzled into Rollo’s neck, peppering light kisses. 

“Love you s’much, Rollo.” 

“I love you too. . .[Reader].” 

His arms wrapped around them, pressing them closer into him. They stayed like that for a while, before [Reader] perked up, looking at his face. 

“I-I do have a question though. . .did you know that I liked you?” 

Rollo looked down to see their curious gaze, he adverted his eyes with a blush staining his cheeks. 

“It. . .it wasn’t Father Pheobus in the Confessional. It. . .it was me. . .” 

[Readers] face fell, 

“S-SO I CONFESSED TO YOU?” 

[Reader] buried their face in his neck, Rollo let out a soft smile at their antics. 

“That you did. Though I am glad, without you confessing to me, this never would have happened.” 

Still buried in his neck, they mumbled a couple of words. 

“I love you. . .” 

Rollo, of course, said it back. He could hear their soft snores, they had passed out from exhaustion. Only one thought lay in his mind, there was no one else other than him that could preserve the purity within [Reader]. 

‘If hellfire must consume me, so be it. I will never let anyone else take you away from me. Your purity is for me to preserve and to taint, no one else.’ 

This was only the beginning of the tragic tell that would come about to Twisted Wonderland. The story of the righteous priest and judge who burned down Fleur City, all because of their desire for someone they could never truly have. 

A/N: So that was a long one. . .how we feeling? I don’t think I will ever write a part 2, sorry :(( UNLESS I get inspiration but I do want to write headcanons for him so maybe? That being said I will be posting another post that will talk about the future of this blog (I AM NOT LEAVING DW)! That being said, I want to thank my friends for helping me with this fic! Special mention to my friend who helped me confirm his personality for me (I love you Nova) and my other friend, who got horny thoughts when they went to church! :3 

[whyareyouhere66]

I feel like it’s been forever since a new Harry Potter fic was written, so I’m here to request(if u feel like writing it ofc<3)!

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Male!reader where reader likes to admire him from the background, but word gets out that they have a crush on him. Reader gets picked on for it because “why would Draco Malfoy of all people go for a Hufflepuff boy?”. U can choose what direction it goes in 👀 (unless you want me be more direct then I can add on to it!)

Yes! I’m here for it- hope you enjoy <3

Also, prefacing this by saying I don’t at all like Rowling or support her bullshit, this is just a cute request id like to do

CW: teasing directed towards reader, reader is like half an inch shorter than Draco (something like that, just for context) unedited (I’ll do it soon I promise) and makeout scene (spoilersssss uh oh)

x

Sound booms across the length of the long walls, the bustling Great Hall full of kids across grades eating their meals. Chicken, mashed potatoes, loafs spread out in baskets, it’s like a thanksgiving meal.

The sun, high in the sky, shines through the tall windows and creates a natural light to outshine the various floating candles. Down at one of the various tables, the Hufflepuff children sit at the wooden table and talk.

“I don’t think he understood the assignment, either.”

“He’s the one who wrote it!”

“Exactly the issue-“

Y/n, accompanied by F/n, sits across from another group at the decorated table. A yellow and black scarf sits loosely around his s/c shoulders, a few rings wrapped around his fingers. He takes another bite from his plate, listening to F/n and another student bicker quietly- the slightest pull of a smile rising on his lips. 

“You guys still talking about Snape?” He asks, eyeing the two. They both nod.

“He’s so grumpy all the time, Y/n,” F/n complains, jutting his chin towards the stone faced man across the room. Y/n chuckles and shakes his head.

“Snape always knows what he’s doing.” He says, planning to check out of the conversation when words of disagreement are thrown his way. 

Y/n moves to keep watching his friends- but his eyes flicker.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the platinum blonde hair his eyes always seem to catch. And suddenly, his friends’ words are but mush against his ears.

Draco sits at the Slytherin table, green banners hanging above his head just like the yellow ones above Y/n’s. 

He has a normal scowl, that would dull anyone else’s face if it weren’t his. As his friends continue to talk, though, his eyebrow lifts and a smooth smirk almost replaces it.

And oh, how pretty his lips are.

Y/n wishes he could hide the thoughts as they ring in his head, wishing his small smile wasn’t such a giveaway.

“Y/n? Did we lose you again?” The girl across the table asks, bangs falling into her face. Grace, is her name. 

“Yeah, you look distracted.” F/n snickers, nudging Y/n’s elbow because unlike the others, he knows exactly where his best friend’s gaze is lingering. 

Blood rushes to Y/n’s face, realizing how obvious he had been just now. 

“I’m fine.” He insists, elbowing F/n right back. The others shrug it off, not noticing how one last glance is shot towards Draco.

Lunch is closer to wrapping up when Y/n notices the time- 1:48. 

“Oh, wait-“ he looks over at F/n. “Man, we gotta go-“  

At this, the boy looks at the time and nods. They both grab their things, wishing goodbye to their friends- Ms. McGonagall would be expecting a finished project in the next hour. 

They weave through the students crowded  around tables, holding their bags close to their hips to take less room. Getting out early gets them more time, though their project was nearly done anyways Ms. McGonagall really talked this one up. 

Stepping out through the giant wooden doors, Y/n breathes out.

“Alright, you have the-“ his words are cut short when someone steps into his path. 

Looking up, he finds 3 people standing in front of him, having bumped into the first one. They’re all from Slytherin. 

“Sorry, didn’t see you.” He tries to step around them, but the boy in front recognizes him and suddenly seems very interested.

“Wait a minute,” he steps in front of Y/n again, “Y/n.” His name on this strange boy’s tongue doesn’t sound like a question, honestly it feels threatening. Y/n furrows his eyebrows, and steps back.

“Uh, yeah?” There’s an intimidating look in the Slytherin boy’s eye- one that not even his friends know the reason for. They, as well as F/n, watch curiously.

“Aren’t you that Hufflepuff that has a crush on Malfoy?”

What.

Y/n’s heart stops, his eyes widen. Who is this kid? 

“Huh?”

“Oh don’t think I haven’t seen anything,” confidence seems to build in the boys voice, the look on Y/n’s face coming as confirmation for his words. “You’re always making puppy eyes at him- oh, I so knew it!” 

The excitement in this boy’s voice is strange- was he betting on this? Does he not realize how creepy that feels?

“Wait, slow down,” one of the Slytherin’s step forward, wrapping her head around the news, “you like Malfoy? Really?”

Y/n doesn’t like the tone of her voice.

“A Hufflepuff? Liking Malfoy?” She scoffs, “oh please.”

Y/n feels too exposed, like he’s suddenly being poked and prodded from under a microscope. 

How had they found out? 

Who else knows? 

He looks at F/n, eyes screaming for help. Another minute here, when kids could walk around the corner at any moment, hear his secret slowly leaking from the safety of his own self, and he might explode.

“You guys are on something strong, aren’t you?” F/n swoops in, trying to play it off and Y/n makes a mental note to remind the boy how grateful he is for him in a moment.

“Quit projecting, will you? Pathetic, really.” F/n says, though avoids any eye contact with the three. He shoves Y/n’s shoulder, who stumbles, and leads him away as quickly as possible. 

By the time they get to the library, Y/n’s head is already swimming, mainly from embarrassment. 

He never wanted anyone to know- he still doesn’t want that. This little “crush” was supposed to stay between him and F/n, for that was the only person he ever trusted to carry it. 

But now? With some smug Slytherin boy walking around with his feelings cupped in the palm of his hand? Y/n’s lost his safety rail. Now, his feelings are vulnerable, ready to be spilled to Draco at any second. 

Two hands hold his shoulders firmly, he recognizes them as F/n’s. No surprise, considering there’s barely any one else in the library right now. Y/n’s eyes dart to meet his.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, and it takes an extra moment for the e/c eyed boy to come up with an answer.

“I think so.” He says, nodding. F/n copies the gesture.

“Good, that’s good. I’m sure not that many people know, ok?” He reassures Y/n, who’s grateful for the words as they bring back some stability. 

“Right.” 

Now that he’s out of that boys uncomfortable gaze, he doesn’t feel as panicked as he did before. More so, unsettled. 

“Right, yeah, uh- let’s get back to the project.” With the nod of his head, and one last look, F/n is agreeing. The two boys sit down at one of the many tables, between two tall bookshelves. 

‘Maybe it’s ok,’ Y/n thinks to himself, ‘not that many people know.’

**

You realize now, that you spoke too soon.

The next day comes, and you’re now standing in the bathroom wasting away time that’s supposed to be spent in Snape’s potions class. It’s empty, aside from you of course, nothing but the sound of a running faucet. 

It’s so quiet that when the door creaks open, people stepping inside, your head snaps to the side, startled. 

It’s two boys, both from Gryffindor, named Avery and Jaxon and you immediately recognize them from a few classes. You turn back to the sink. 

Neither of them look at you, instead disappearing into two of the stalls. 

By the time they’re both out of the stalls, you’re washing the final suds from your hands. From the mirror, you see their faces change, realizing who you are. 

The air becomes unnecessarily tense, you’re unsure why, both of the boys are trying to pretend otherwise. 

Avery and Jax glance at each other, walking to the sinks. And it’s not until Avery decides to speak, that the silence is again broken.

“Hey, um-“ you look at him, “I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but…” he looks hesitant to speak, like what he say might come off as offensive, something sensitive. Your curiosity only grows. 

“Is it true, that you and Draco are dating?”

You nearly choke.

“What?” You asks, hating that this is the 2nd time Draco has been brought up to you. 

“I mean, I heard that-“ Avery seems to notice the growing worry plastered on your face- it’s spreading. Your secret is spreading.

“Oh,” Avery begins to realize, “sorry, Y/n, that was a bit invasive.” His tone is calm, only slightly uncomfortable. Pretty much the opposite to you- itching to drop the conversation. But, you keep a calm face, shoving the gross feelings down. 

“No it’s fine, um, why?” You can only hope your voice doesn’t give everything away. 

“Oh, I just thought I heard a couple Slytherin kids talking about it.” Again, his voice feels too nonchalant. “Guess I was wrong.”

“Oh.” The slightest shake. Unlike Avery, though, Jax still seems interested.

“Wait- do you like him though?” This results in an elbow to rib, and Avery looks at him like a mother scolding their child.

“Ow!-“ Jax grunts, glaring yet ignoring the hint, “I’m just asking. You know about the Slytherins and Huffs’.” 

“They just…” his eyes dart right back to yours, “they just don’t go together, man.” You hate the way he says it- hate how it feels like you’re being scolded, looked down on. Looking down at the yellow and black robes draped across your shoulder, you avoid Jaxon’s gaze. 

Which, in hindsight, gives enough of an answer.

The two Gryffindors shuffle out of the bathroom, and immediately you let out a groan. 

You’re fucked. 

Hands run down your face in exasperation- this wasn’t supposed to get out. Draco probably knows now, people think that you’re dating. 

The unusually large bathroom echoes mumbled curses back to you, silence so eery it feels haunting. You feel yourself  beginning to doubt if you should even return to potions class- knowing Draco is sitting at the desk a few feet from yours. 

“They just don’t go together, man…”

“A Hufflepuff? Liking Malfoy? Oh, please…”

Another sigh.

You feel your fingers pressing into your eyelids, passing over your temples and the wrinkles above your nose.

‘He’s gonna hate me’

Such a childish thought, but once it appeared you felt a sickening feeling in your chest because oh, how you wish he doesn’t. 

Outside, footsteps echo in the hallway. 

And Draco himself, walks down the corridor towards the boy’s bathroom, taking his time with the silence. It’s a much better option, compared to Snape’s incessant grumbling. 

He’s been trying to think the whole day- but is only now getting the chance thanks to that little posse of his.

For hours now, whenever given the chance, his mind drifts back to the conversations from early this morning at breakfast.

“Have you heard?” Pansy leans over the table, one eyebrow raised as if she’s careful of listening ears. Though, to that she doesn’t spare a second thought.

Blaise narrows his eyes, looking at her curiously. “Heard what?” He asks, and Draco impatiently looks at her.

“What now.” The blonde already doesn’t care, Pansy always seems to find some sort of gossip across houses. But this time, she’s sending a smirk right his way.

“Some little Hufflepuff has a crush on you.”

Now, to this, Draco does perk up- and his eyes flicker in your direction for only a moment. But, he doesn’t allow himself to acknowledge it. 

“Mhm.” Pansy sounds so smug in her words, satisfied as both boys lean closer to her.

“Who?” Blaise asked, the roughness behind his voice covering any curiosity. 

“Y/n L/n.”

Draco looks bewildered for a second- you?  He never thought it was actually you, that was only a spark of hope in a moment of weakness. He was prepared to hear the name of some random girl he hadn’t learned the name of before- but the familiar ring of your name brought satisfaction to follow the shock.

He doesn’t even try to hide the smirk that shows through. Beside him, Blaise scoffs.

“You’re joking”. He says, and Draco shoots him a glare.

“What? It’s no surprise,” he says cockily, “jealousy’s never a good look”. The meaningless comeback earns a glare and an eye roll from Blaise- and surprises Pansy. 

“Draco,” she narrows her eyes, “do you like this? Him?” She gives him a once-over, checking to see if he’s serious. He is.

Draco doesn’t give a straight answer, though, instead scoffing and going back to his plate. 

“Get a life, why don’t you. Your gossip is boring me.” He says- but there’s the slightest pull at his lips, smiling your way.

Draco pushes open the large door, stepping inside the bathroom and immediately- his eyes land on you.

“Y/n?” 

Your head snaps up, and a new feeling sinks into your stomach when you see him. You can’t tell if you wish it was someone else, or if this is perhaps what you were hoping for.

“Uh, hey.”

Draco steps closer, and you can see some sort of glint in his eyes, and you can’t quite name the warm yet uneasy feeling that follows.

“Skipping Snape’s class now, are we?” He teases in a smug voice, and your blood aches in your cheeks. 

“Just taking a break-“ you don’t look at him, using a towel to wipe off your hands. You simply want to play it cool in front of him, though you’re unsure considering the past two times you seem to have failed.

“A break, hmm? I’m sure.” He says sarcastically.

Instead of picking a stall, like you expected, you watch from the corner of your eye as he approaches you and leans on one of the sinks.

“So,” 

You freeze. 

‘Don’t say it..’

“There seems to be a bit of a rumor spreading around.” 

You visibly wince, the moment you prayed would never come has arrived. He found out- and just like the others, he knows that he could never accept a silly school crush from your house.

Turned away, you’re unable to see the smirk on his face- but you can hear it in his voice.

“Draco…” you mumble, feeling the dread of what his response is going to be. He’s closer now, you feel it- and suddenly his figure is right beside you. 

“Y’know, if you wanted a date so badly you could’ve asked.”

You pause.

What?

His voice is new, because while there’s still such a teasing tone buried in the words, you notice…hope, as well.

You look at him, and notice his eyes have softened. 

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says, “no need to have waited so long.” He still sounds partially like he’s joking, but his fingers are creeping closer to yours by the sink’s ledge.

The pieces are starting to connect in your head- he hasn’t pushed you away, hasn’t called you any names. In fact- he’s the one getting so close.

Draco watches, examining your face. He’s starting to feel impatient, actually, feeling he’s been clear enough. He doesn’t seem to understand how confusing his words can be- how your beating heart is twisting and unraveling in your chest. He’s too preoccupied with his own churning heart.

“What’re you saying?” You finally ask, and he nearly scoffs.

“Hell, you’re real thick in the head aren’t you?”

He doesn’t even try stopping himself as his hands cup your face, and his lips are molding right into yours.

He’s so quick with it, like he’s been waiting years for this, yet so smooth at the same time. You can feel your eyes as they shoot open, only to hazily fall half closed a moment later. 

His arms loop around your waist, so you were almost bent into his body. You have to take a cautionary step back just to stable yourself, one hand holding his neck, it almost takes you too long to realize he is kissing you. 

‘Holy shit, holy shit holy shit holy shit-‘ your mind races, and it feels like only half of it is functioning. Part of you is swimming, the other half melting into his arms because oh how long have you been waiting to feel him so close. 

He’s smirking into the kiss now, breaking it into quicker, shorter kisses that mesh together to make one, long breathless one. Through the haze of his lips, your hand creeps into his hair and he wonders why he waited so long to experience this.

You tug slightly, other hand grabbing his jaw, and you pull him away.

The room is no longer silent, both of you  catching your breath.

“I’ll take that as your confession, then?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he replies, “meet again after Potions?”

“Sounds good.”

[I hope you all enjoyed- I feel there’s probably more I could’ve added or something, but for now this is good. If anyone wants an add on or more or like a part two let me know!]

[geminiwritten]

i’m yours ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you find out that butcher slept with maeve, and attempt to ignore your feelings by going m.i.a. and going home with a complete stranger, only to awake the green-eyed monster living inside of butcher

preface: this isn’t set in canon timeline, it’s basically just using the bit where butcher sleeps with maeve as a bit of a jealousy catalyst

notes: this man has a hold on me... and i feel like this got a little rushed at the end but i still kind of like it, please let me know what y’all think! (also, i’m sorry all my stuff has the same formula, i promise i’m trying to mix it up!)

warnings: a lot of swearing, the ‘sewer-slide’ word, google-translated french, sexual content, and some soft smut

word count: 5315

Things are good, too good, but you’re doing your best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Hughie and Annie are happy, MM is content, and Frenchie is excitedly creating new methods of blowing up Supes almost daily. Butcher is… well, Butcher. He’s grumpy and brash, but seems to be feeling a little more positive lately, focusing more on recon and intel rather than running in with guns blazing.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, you had managed to go grocery shopping without anyone stumbling home bloody and bruised. Frenchie is humming along to the song that had been playing on the radio, carrying most of the plastic bags while MM carries one with you on his back. You were all in such high spirits that he had let you jump on his back at the bottom of the apartment stairs, carrying you up four flights as if you weighed no more than a hiking backpack.

Frenchie chuckles at the two of you as he unlocks the apartment door, entering first and pushing it open all the way. You have to duck a little, giggling and holding on to MM for dear life as he starts jogging toward the couch. He drops the bag on the floor before falling into the sofa, and you squeal as he squashes you.

“Hey,” you exclaim, still laughing, “what the fuck? Steeds don’t sit on their riders!”

“You want to ride me next, petit ange?” Frenchie calls from the kitchen.

You writhe until MM moves, standing up with a satisfied grin across his lips. You flip him your middle finger as he turns away, ushering Frenchie out of the kitchen so he can put the groceries away. You find the TV remote buried in the couch cushions, and just as the old screen flickers to life, Kimiko emerges from the hallway. She looks at Frenchie with a small smile, signing hello before her nose crinkles, and she signs another sentence you struggle to catch as your attention is called toward the master bedroom doors.

Frenchie frowns curiously, “She says that it smells in here.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you lot are stinkin’ up my fuckin’ apartment,” Butcher says, running a hand through his hair.

He looks like shit. His shirt is wrinkled and the buttons are fastened crookedly, his hair is standing up in all directions, and the circles beneath his eyes are several shades darker than usual.

“It is our apartment, Butcher,” Frenchie states, “it is the least you can after making me blow up my last two places, eh?”

Butcher rolls his eyes before dropping into one of the dining room chairs, holding his face in his hands as he takes several deep breaths.

Frenchie looks to Kimiko again before translating, “She says it smells like alcohol and sweat, and a perfume that she has not smelt before.”

“I don’t wear perfume,” you note, “every time we have to haul ass and run, the bottles end up broken or missing, so I gave up.”

MM raises his hands in defence, “Don’t look at me, I haven’t seen anyone but you lot in the past twelve hours.”

“Perhaps it is something we picked up at the shops,” Frenchie shrugs.

Kimiko signs again, and you watch her to listen.

“You can smell a stranger?” you ask with a frown.

“To reiterate,” MM says, “I stayed at a motel alone last night, I was too tired to drive all the way here after visiting Janine.”

“I stayed with Annie,” you point out, “is that who you can smell?”

Kimiko shakes her head, and your heart begins to race anxiously. Neither she nor Frenchie stayed here last night either, opting for one of his old hideouts after scouring the city for any possible missed traces that Vought could use to find you all.

MM turns to Butcher, “Was there someone here last night?”

“Why would you not tell us that there was a break in?” Frenchie demands, his face a mixture of irritation and concern.

Butcher sighs, “There wasn’t a fuckin’ break in, calm down.”

Kimiko pads quietly around the room, subtly sniffing the air around MM and then Frenchie before moving toward you. She inhales above your head and grimaces, before moving to the side and taking a deep breath over the couch.

You shoot up from your seat and stumble toward the kitchen, “Me or the couch?”

She points at the sofa.

“Butcher,” MM says, his voice demanding, “explain before I slap your hungover ass.”

Its only then that you notice the two empty bottles of whiskey, one on the coffee table and one laying on the floor. You back up slowly toward the kitchen, a fresh wave of panic washing over you.

“Someone stopped by,” Butcher mutters into his hands, “that’s all.”

You reach the kitchen bench at the same time Kimiko does, still sniffing like a police dog, and her face twists into a disgusted frown. You startle again, jumping back from the bench as if it had burnt you.

“Care to elaborate?” MM presses.

Butcher sighs, and you can feel a lump growing in your throat.

“We all sleep here too, Butcher,” Frenchie states, “and we deserve to know if it is still safe to do so.”

“‘Course it’s fuckin’ safe,” Butcher says, finally turning his head to face the room. “Maeve came by, alrigh’? Just her, ‘n’ she had some information, so we had a chat and a drink. Is that alrigh’ with you nosey bastards?”

A weight drops in your stomach, anchoring you to the floor as moisture begins to blur your vision.

Kimiko stops sniffing when she reaches Butcher, cringing and stumbling several paces back until she is beside Frenchie.

“You slept with a Supe?” MM gasps.

Butcher huffs and pushes himself up from the chair, “No fuckin’ privacy with you lot, is there?”

MM raises his hands again, “Hey, I’m not judging, just shocked.”

Frenchie’s concern melts into taunting smirk, “No need to be defensive, Monsieur Charcutier, we all have our needs, and I am surprised that you managed to woo such a beautiful woman.”

“Fuck off, Frenchie,” Butcher sighs, dragging his feet toward the fridge.

Their voices blur into white noise as you focus on the slow inhale and exhale of your breath. You wriggle your toes in your boots, forcing yourself to feel your physical body instead of the whirlwind of emotions swirling through your head. It feels like your skull is fracturing with the effort that it takes to contain the storm, but you refuse to let your feelings win. You find a bottle and push them inside, jamming the cork in just as Frenchie snaps his fingers in front of your nose.

You blink, “What?”

“Are you okay?” he asks, a soft crease between his brows.

“Yeah, sorry,” you blink again to quell your watery eyes, “what’s up?”

“Are you hungry?”

You glance over his shoulder at Butcher, his head in the fridge as he ignores MM’s demands to get out of the way.

“Not really,” you reply, “I was actually thinking about going back over to Annie’s, I think I forgot my… my socks.”

The concern between Frenchie’s brows deepens, “You forgot your socks?”

You nod, “My favourite socks.”

“Didn’t know you had favourite socks,” Butcher mumbles as he steps out of the kitchen.

“You don’t know a lot of things,” you state, plastering on a smile that you know doesn’t reach your eyes.

You can feel their curious gazes on you as you turn, retrieving your wallet and keys from the couch before striding out of the apartment door without a second glance. You pull your phone out of your pocket and text Annie to let her know that you’re on your way before switching it to ‘do not disturb’ and zipping it inside your jacket pocket, determined to forget about it until you’ve got a handle on your emotions.

The sun is setting by the time you reach the familiar street on which Hughie and Annie’s apartment is located, and you’re rather proud of the fact that you managed to focus on nothing but your steady steps the whole way here. You look up at the brick building on your left, but instead of turning toward the front steps, your feet carrying you across the street toward the park, not stopping until you’re standing in front of an empty bench.

“Something wrong with that one?” a voice asks, and you startle toward the source of it.

A young man is standing beside you, clad in running shorts and a tight exercise jacket. He doesn’t look menacing, but your whole body tenses as your fight or flight instincts battle for dominance.

“I’m sorry?”

He chuckles, “The bench, I mean. You’re frowning at it as if it’s diseased or something.”

“Oh,” you look back at the moss-ridden seat, “no, I just- I don’t know.”

“Are you alright?”

He buries his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and you let yourself relax, deciding that he isn’t a threat, just an overly friendly stranger.

“I’m fine, sorry,” you sigh, “just had a weird day.”

“That’s nothing to apologise for,” he says, sitting on the bench and looking up at you. “I know the feeling.”

You sit beside him, watching his side profile and slowly realising how attractive he is. His hair is cropped short, shorter than you usually liked, but his eyes are a stunning green and the faint shadow of stubble across his jaw is definitely something you can appreciate.

“Do you often approach strangers in the park?” you ask.

He laughs again, his eyes sparkling under the orange sky, “No, not really, especially not strangers as gorgeous as you.”

You blush at the ground, deciding to focus on your fraying shoelaces rather than the handsome stranger.

“But I figured,” he goes on, “that if I didn’t ask this pretty girl if she was okay, I might not be able to stop thinking about her for the rest of my life.”

You actually giggle, immediately cursing yourself for being so easy, “That’s a long time.”

“I know, right? I didn’t fancy the risk, and hey,” he smiles at you, “looks like it might have been worth it.”

“Maybe,” you smile back, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nate.”

You’re not sure if you’re an idiot or if you’ve just given up on your own personal safety, but you sit and talk to Nate until the sun is well below the horizon. You learn that he’s a journalist and a dog person, and lately he’s been more afraid of Supes than comforted by their presence. You tell him you’re a freelancer, because it isn’t technically a lie, and that you’re in between gigs at the moment but questioning whether you’re really doing what you want to be doing. Also, not a lie.

“I know that this is probably very forward,” he says, his knee bouncing nervously, “but did you want to come back to my place for a drink? I would suggest a bar, but I’m not really dressed for it, and I just get this feeling that as soon as we say goodbye, you’re going to disappear forever.”

You frown, “You’re a real long-term guy, aren’t you?”

His cheeks flush pink, “I don’t have to be.”

As you walk alongside the man you met mere hours ago, you come to the conclusion that you must be suicidal. In the current state that the world is in, who in their right mind goes home with a complete stranger? You, apparently.

His apartment isn’t far from the park, which is a little comforting, knowing that you will have a speedy escape to Annie’s place if this guy does end up being a psycho serial killer. The buildings all look the same as you approach a row of tall brick blocks, climbing the few concrete steps up to the lobby doors before scaling three flights to reach his apartment door.

It’s surprisingly well decorated inside, and you can eye a few expensive items that make you wonder if he really is a struggling journalist, or perhaps a shady underground arts dealer. You take a seat at the kitchen bench as he babbles about how crappy his landlord is and how much money he’s had to spend on the place to make it liveable. The glass of wine he places in front of you is gone within two gulps, and he happily pours you another.

“I feel like I probably should have asked this a few hours ago,” he says with a sheepish smile, “but you aren’t with anyone, are you? Engaged or married, or anything like that.”

You choke on your mouthful of cheap wine, coughing the burn away while he hurries to get you a glass of water.

“No,” you finally reply, “I’m not, at all.”

“Good,” he replies, his earnest grin returning, “I mean, it’s surprising because you’re incredible, but I’m glad.”

You offer him a smile that you hope appears coy and not at all forced before drinking down the rest of your second glass of wine. He moves into the lounge room, and you take the opportunity to pour yourself another generous glass, quickly swallowing the two mouthfuls left in the bottle while his back is still turned. You gingerly place the empty bottle in the sink before following him, dropping onto the soft leather couch as he turns on the television.

A news broadcast lights up the screen, and fiery images of a truck collision flash behind the breaking news banner that reads: ‘QUEEN MAEVE SAVES THE DAY’. Your stomach twists into a knot as the bottle of emotions you had managed to almost forget about begins to break, the glass fracturing and threatening to send you into a full-blown mental breakdown.

“Damn,” Nate sighs, “I know the Supes are pretty sketchy these days, but Queen Maeve is just gorgeous.”

With one last burning gulp of wine, you turn to the man beside you and take his head between your hands, crushing your lips against his. He gasps, but responds quickly, his hands finding your hips and guiding you onto his lap.

The rest of the night is a blur as you attempt to give all of your attention to this stranger that you barely know instead of confronting the green-eyed monster roaring in your belly. He finishes once on the couch, pretty quickly, but you’re not one to judge, before you drag him into the bedroom and away from the incessant news broadcasts of Queen Maeve’s heroic act.

It isn’t your alarm that wakes you, or the sound of Frenchie and MM arguing about how to cook eggs, but rather the unfamiliar scent that douses your breath. Your body trembles with anxiety and your eyes snap open, darting around the strange room as your thoughts scramble to remember how you got here.

“Fuck,” you sigh at the sound of someone snoring beside you.

You gently roll over and slip out of the sheets, cold air immediately nipping at your naked body. You find the nearest item of clothing and slip it over your head before tiptoeing out of the bedroom and into the lounge room. Nerves and hunger mingle inside of your stomach, making you overwhelmingly nauseous by the time you find your jacket thrown over the back of the couch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter as you retrieve your phone from the pocket.

Dozens of missed calls and text messages fill your lock screen, several from Annie and Frenchie, a couple from Hughie and MM, but the majority of them listed under Butcher’s contact name, ‘Big Willy’. You thought it was funny a few days ago.

You quickly text Annie that you’re okay, you’re incredibly sorry, and that you’ll fill her in as soon as you see her. You find your jeans and wriggle into them before finding your panties and tucking them into your back pocket. You scoop your bra and your shirt off the floor on your way to the kitchen, and check your phone again for a reply from Annie. Nothing yet.

You drink the glass of untouched water from the kitchen bench before splashing your face and trying to calm the vibration of nerves coursing through your body.

“Hey.”

You startle at the sudden voice, turning to find Nate in nothing but sweatpants as he emerges from the bedroom.

“Hey,” you murmur.

He frowns, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-I’m fine, just- uh, my friends have been calling me,” you gesture to your phone, “and they’re pretty worried.”

“Oh,” he lets out a long breath, “I didn’t even hear it ringing last night.”

You smile weakly, not bothering to explain that you were intentionally avoiding your phone all afternoon.

He steps forward, “So, did you-”

The apartment door bursts open, splinters of wood scattering across the floor as you squeal and Nate jumps away from the blow. Your heart is racing, but your body reacts as it was trained to do, and you dive for a knife from the block beside the stove before freezing as you recognise the figure stalking through the broken door.

“Butcher,” you say, “what the fuck?”

His head snaps toward you, the crease between his brows softening and his eyes looking almost vulnerable as realises that it’s you.

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you and why did you just break my door?” Nate speaks up.

Your stomach sinks as Butcher’s attention is turned toward the shirtless man, murderous intent returning to his face.

“Who the fuck am I?” he spits, “Who the fuck are you?”

Nate looks tiny compared to Butcher, his narrow frame absolutely dwarfed by Butcher’s broad height and intimidating stance.

“I-I’m Nate,” the smaller man says, “and this is my apartment, that’s my door that you just destroyed.”

“Yeah?” Butcher taunts, stalking forward, “An’ what’re you gon’a do ‘bout it?”

Nate looks at you, his eyes frantic and begging for help.

“Butcher, calm down, he’s-”

“Calm down?” he whirls toward you, “You want me to fuckin’ calm down?!”

“Hey, man,” Nate says, “we can talk, you don’t have to-”

“Nate,” you put your hand up, “I’m sorry, but please shut up.”

“Nate,” Butcher repeats mockingly, “if you value your life, I’d listen to ‘er.”

You drop the knife on the bench, “Butcher, can we just leave, please?”

“You don’t get to make any requests right now, sweethear’,” he says, taking a heavy step toward you, “not after the shit you put me through for the past twelve fuckin’ hours.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls sarcastically, “maybe ‘bout the fact that you fuckin’ disappeared! You didn’t answer your damn phone, didn’t tell anyone where you fuckin’ were! I got a call from Hughie askin’ if you were back home, ‘cause you texted Annie ‘n’ told her you were comin’, but didn’t fuckin’ show up!”

A pebble of guilt drops into your stomach, but you ignore it, squaring up to him with a scowl.

“So?” you shrug, “I’m an adult, I can do as I fucking please.”

“Not without tellin’ me!” he exclaims, “Not if I don’t know where you fuckin’ are or if you’re even fuckin’ alive!”

“You’re not my fucking father, Butcher!” you shout back, feeling another fissure in the bottle of emotions. “I don’t belong to you, I don’t have to ask you for permission to live my own fucking life!”

His jaw twitches, a tidal wave of emotion crashing through his eyes all too quickly for you to try and discern any of them.

“A-Are you Y/N’s boyfriend?” Nate asks timidly.

You and Butcher turn to him in unison, exclaiming at the same time, “No!”

A beat of silence passes, and Butcher’s glare doesn’t falter. You take a deep breath to try and sooth the storm of frustration threatening to consume you.

“Butcher,” you say softly, “can we please leave?”

His head snaps back toward you, his eyes scanning your body as they fill with realisation.

“Did you fuck her?” he asks, turning back to Nate.

He doesn’t respond, his mouth hanging open as he takes several steps back.

“You gon’a answer me?”

“Butcher,” you say again, “cut it out.”

He takes another menacing step toward Nate, “I asked you a question.”

“W-We slept together, yes,” Nate stammers.

The laugh that leaves Butcher’s lips is chilling, sounding almost mad.

“Oh, pardon my French,” he says, “perhaps I should’a asked if you made sweet fuckin’ love to this gorgeous woman right ‘ere.”

“For fuck’s sake!” you shout, “Stop it, stop whatever the fuck this is, and let’s just fucking go!”

“You’re tellin’ me that you fuckin’ disappeared so you could hide out with this fuckin’ twat?” Butcher exclaims, “You let me worry myself fuckin’ sick so you could get a lousy fuck?”

The bottle explodes, shards of glass cutting you from the inside and sending white hot waves of frustration and anger, and despair rolling through your body.

“I can fuck whoever I want, Butcher!” you scream, startled by the volume of your own voice.

His eyes narrow, but his lips don’t move.

“And you can fuck whoever the fuck you want,” you spit, “obviously.”

You snatch your phone off the bench and stomp toward the door, turning to Nate with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, about… this.”

You continue down the hall and the three flights of stairs, not bothering to check if Butcher is following until you’re outside. The temperature is significantly lower than it was yesterday, but your stubbornness doesn’t let you show it as Butcher strides past you toward the car haphazardly parked at the curb.

You climb into the passenger’s seat, sitting as close as you can to the door and hugging your clothes against your chest as you stare out the window. Tears fill your eyes, your nose growing hot and your cheeks undoubtedly red as you use every ounce of self-control you still have to stave of the inevitable. All you need to do is make it home and make it to your bedroom, and then you can cry. You can curl up with your face in your pillow and sob, and admit that you’re jealous, that you’re hurt, and that you love a man who doesn’t even understand the meaning of that word anymore.

“You look like shit,” he grunts.

You sniffle, keeping your face turned away from him, “So do you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get much fuckin’ sleep,” he says as the car comes to a halt, “I was up all night worryin’ ‘bout whether or not you were fuckin’ alive.”

“Well, I didn’t get much sleep either,” you retort, before pushing the passenger door open and stumbling out.

You hear the car door slam as you hurry up the stairs and into the building, taking the steps two at a time until you reach the apartment door. To your great relief, it’s unlocked, and you let yourself in before Butcher has even made it into the hallway.

“Oh, my goodness, mon amour,” Frenchie gasps, “you’re alive! You’re okay… are you okay?”

You don’t realise your crying until you try to look at him, your vision blurred by heavy tears as they fall in fat droplets down your cheeks.

MM steps forward, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “I’m fine, I was with a-a friend.”

“A friend?” Butcher echoes, the door slamming behind him.

Your blood sizzles in your veins, heated by the overwhelming frustration coiling in your chest.

“How the fuck did you know where I was?” you demand, spinning around to face him.

He doesn’t answer.

“Do you have my fucking phone bugged?”

Butcher blows a long breath out of his nose, the thick vein in his neck throbbing under his red skin. “Look,” he says, “I know that whatever the fuck just happened wasn’t ideal, but why can’t you fuckin’ see this from my point of view?”

“Our point of view,” MM corrects, “we were all worried.”

“I get that!” you exclaim, “I fucking understand that, but what I don’t understand is why Butcher is still acting like such a fucking cunt. You can see that I’m fine! I’m alive, so what’s your problem?”

“What’s your problem?” he snaps, “Why didn’t you answer your fuckin’ phone? Why didn’t you tell anyone where you fuckin’ were? And why the fuck did you go home with a complete fuckin’ stranger?”

“Oh, shit,” Frenchie murmurs.

“Maybe I just needed a fucking break.”

The room falls quiet, the only sound being Frenchie’s soft footsteps as he backs away. You use the clothes in your arms to wipe the fresh fall of tears from your cheeks and try to ease your shaky breaths as you wait for another onslaught of reprimands.

Butcher sighs, “Go shower.”

“What?”

“You need to shower,” he says, stepping forward.

You frown, “Why?”

“You look like shit, and you sm-” he stops himself, pausing when you take a small step back.

“I look like shit and I smell,” you finish for him, “thanks, Butcher.”

You drag your feet toward the bathroom, dropping your clothes on the floor and staring at your wrecked face in the mirror. Your hair is a mess and your face is blotchy and red, with streaks of black painting your cheeks. The shirt hanging loosely from your shoulders is unfamiliar, and something akin to disgust settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Give me your clothes,” Butcher says as he appears in the reflection behind you.

“Why can’t you just fucking leave me alone?”

He sighs, “I’m tryin’ to help.”

“I don’t want your fucking help,” you turn to him and lean against the vanity, “go offer it to someone else. I’m sure Maeve would love to see your fucking name pop up on her phone.”

His frown disappears, and you can feel the air shift. Fuck. Now you’ve done it. The shards of glass sticking you from the inside have cut right through your chest, slicing it open as your ribcage cracks and unfolds, presenting your pathetic heart to the man who already held it in his hands.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them back with determination.

“I-Is that what this is-” he struggles for words, running his hands through his hair, “for fuck’s sake, Y/N.”

Your breath comes and goes in short gasps, the lump in your throat crushing your windpipe as it demands to be felt.

“For fuck’s sake!” he exclaims, before taking one step forward and slamming the bathroom door shut.

Fear sparks through you, and you whimper, “Butcher, please don’t-”

Before you can finish, he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a vice hold as he rests his chin on the top of your head. You sob into his shirt, tremors wracking your exhausted body as every bit of fear and frustration tears you apart from the inside. You’re not sure how you let yourself get this emotional. Maybe it’s the fact that the world is falling apart, and you’re supposed to act like you’re ready to save it? Or maybe it’s because you’re fucking tired of having everything you love ripped away from you, every chance you think you might have at happiness taken from you by the cunts in the sky who call themselves ‘Superheroes’.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

The turbulence inside of you quells simply because you finally acknowledged it, and you manage to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Butcher,” you croak, looking up at him through tear laced lashes, “kiss me?”

He hooks a finger beneath your chin and tilts it up, leaning in to meet you the rest of the way before his lips brush yours. It’s hesitant and soft, barely a touch, and he pulls away too soon.

“You need to shower.”

“Oh,” you try to wriggle out of his arms, but they’re too strong.

“I can smell that fuckin’ twat all over you,” he growls, “an’ it’s makin’ me fuckin’ sick.”

Realisation slaps you across the face, giving you the strength to remember how to hold yourself up as he pulls away. His fingers curl into the material at the neck of your shirt, ripping it apart right down the middle before pushing it off your shoulders and tossing it on the floor.

Another growl rumbles through his chest and the air in the room shifts again, now thick with a tension that has your heart throbbing in anticipation. Your mind races, your thoughts riding rollercoasters as you struggle to catch up with his fast hands. Your jeans are unbuttoned and pooled around your ankles in less than a second, and he takes another moment to devour your naked body before moving to turn on the shower.

You stumble out of your jeans as he quickly sheds his own clothes before wrapping an arm around your waist. He pulls you under the warm stream of water and holds your body against his, the feeling of his bare skin making your head spin. He takes the bottle of bodywash from the small shelf and pops the cap with one hand, turning it upside down and squirting a ridiculous amount all over your chest and his.

You giggle and he grins, returning the bottle to the shelf before crushing his lips against yours. The soap makes your skin slide against his in the most delicious way and you can feel your core clench, eliciting a wanton moan from your open mouth. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth and claiming you with hungry, sloppy kisses.

“Didn’t think you’d be jealous,” he murmurs against your mouth, “didn’t think you fuckin’ cared about me.”

You slide your hands across his bare shoulders and behind his neck, finding purchase in his wet hair and tugging gently as you kiss him with every ounce of passion that you have.

“I do care,” you sigh when his lips leave yours to lap at your neck, “I am fucking jealous.”

“Sweethear’,” he whispers, his hands moving to your breasts, “you’ve got nothin’ to be fuckin’ jealous ‘bout.”

His mouth leaves your skin as he turns you to face the wall, pressing his body against your back before pushing you into the tiled wall. You gasp first at the sudden cold, and then at the feeling of him grinding himself against your ass.

“I’m yours,” he growls, his lips against your shoulder, “always fuckin’ have been.”

You still manage to speak despite the pleasure of him threatening to overwhelm you. “Then why?”

One hand wraps gently around your throat while the other splays across your lower belly, teasing the place just below that aches for his touch.

“‘Cause I never fuckin’ dreamed that I’d have you,” he says, his lips at your ear now.

You reach back with one hand, holding the nape of his neck as you turn so that your mouth can meet his in a messy kiss.

“You’ve always had me,” you murmur, “I belonged to you the day I met you.”

His hips buck against your ass, pressing you against the wall and making you whimper.

“You’re mine,” he says, moving back just enough for you to turn around.

You nod as you lean down to kiss his neck. Your tongue laving at his wet skin before your teeth sink in and he hisses, one hand squeezing your hip as the other smacks against the tiled wall.

“All yours.”

You place your hands against his chest, pushing him back enough for you to drop to your knees, your hands trailing down his body until they reach his hips. You dig your fingers in and look up at him through your wet lashes.

“Show me who I belong to.”

END.

[devildom-moss]

“I wanted to tell you first” (good) (the demon brothers)

What do the demon brothers go to MC first for? What is it that they desire to share with MC before anyone else?

(the demon brothers x gn!MC)

(suggestive for some of the brothers: Lucifer, Asmo, Beel)

Lucifer

You are the first to know when Lucifer obtains a new cursed record. Diavolo used to be the first to know and was occasionally the one who obtained the record for Lucifer, but now (much to Diavolo’s disappointment), Lucifer goes to you first. Unless the record is dangerous for humans, he’s excited for you to listen to it with him before he shows anyone else. Sometimes this can mean calling you into his study late at night so he can cherish a few moments alone with you. Until Lucifer can have you all to himself, he keeps the information about his new record a secret. The anticipation is subtly visible in him when he has to wait to listen to it with you. Sometimes, that means just being more lenient with his brothers, and other days, it elicits more laughter from him and sweet grins when he thinks no one else is looking.

“You seem to be in a good mood today, Lucifer. Did something happen?”

“You’re quite observant. Meet me in my room tonight after dinner.”

Lucifer will pull out a bottle of Demonus for the occasion. If you want it, he’ll have a short lecture about the origins of that particular cursed record – including the potential side-effects in case you decide you don’t want to risk it. He feels it is a necessity that you are prepared to enjoy the listening experience with him, especially for records that have aphrodisiac-like curse symptoms. Lucifer is always a bit horny for you, but if there is a chance he might want to pounce on you later and not be able to control his urges well, he’d rather you opt out early on and not have to see him like that. If you agree to stay, he asks you to spend the night every time.

Even if Lucifer has the opportunity to listen before he shares the record with you, if it’s a song or album he has never heard before (unless he needs to determine what the potential effects on you would be), he’ll wait to listen to it with you. If you ask him, he may tell you that he waited to listen with you, but he’s too embarrassed to admit how much he cherishes being able to share those firsts with you – especially considering how old he is. He never imagined he could still have so many firsts until he met you.

Mammon

Mammon comes to you first with almost any good news, but especially with news about getting good grades and other personal successes. Did he just win big at a casino? You’re the first one he tells. Who else would he want to spend his winnings on, anyway? Did he pass his last Devildom history exam with a B+? He rushes to find you and show you his exam paper with the biggest grin on his face. Did he score a modeling gig with one of his favorite brands (or better yet, one of your favorite brands)? He tells you as soon as he’s notified.

Mammon tends to preface his good personal news with “you’ll never guess what the Great Mammon did.” If he wasn’t smiling like a carefree fool, you might worry that he had gotten in trouble again. Although a quiet part of him believes that you really wouldn’t be able to guess what he accomplished because he isn’t exactly known for his vast array of successes, he craves your faith in him with his entire being. Mammon wants to surprise you with how good he’s doing for himself, but he also wants to impress you so much that you’ll never be shocked by his success. When it boils down, Mammon wants to make you proud of him. As such, he takes all his accomplishments directly to you. Lucifer is a close second, but the praise from his beloved brother could never compete with how he feels when you smile at him and tell him what a good job he has done.

Although he doesn’t mean to, sometimes after Mammon gives you the good news, he lowers his head slightly, eyes fixed on the floor, as if he’s waiting for you to pet him. If all you do is congratulate him, he will perk up and brag a bit (“Well, you are talking to the Great Mammon, after all.”). If you take the hint, his face will heat up and he may protest, but he’ll melt under your touch so quickly that his actions will betray his words.

“Stop pettin’ me already!”

“Mammon, you’ve literally been sitting in my lap and nuzzling my hand on your own for the past minute. I haven’t even moved.”

“Shuddup and go back to saying nice stuff about me.”

Leviathan

Not only does Levi come to you when he has an otaku fail, he also comes to you first when he has an otaku win. Sometimes that means calling you to scream in your ear about obtaining Sucre Frenzy tickets or unboxing his new Ruri-chan merch with you, but more often than not, he comes to you first about his game wins – especially when he gets a good gacha pull or defeats a tough boss. He has a few reasons for coming to you first. For one, Levi is used to his brothers and friends ignoring him when he goes on about his games and anime. Sometimes, especially in the cases of Lucifer, Simeon, and Barbatos, they have no clue what Leviathan is even talking about. Being dismissed or even ridiculed will hurt his feelings and ruin his joy and excitement. However, Levi trusts you with his heart, and he’s willing to put his joy on the line every time with you.

Another reason why Levi comes to you first with his otaku wins is because you are precious to him, and he can’t imagine wanting to share his happiness with anyone more than you (except maybe Henry 2.0). He’s usually pretty moody or at least prone to negativity, so when he’s hit with bouts of joy, Levi is eager to showcase this positive side of himself for you. Maybe if you see that he can be more than a depressed, self-conscious, jealous otaku, you might love him even more.

Furthermore, Levi is self-conscious about how he expresses his joy. Levi strikes me as someone who happy stims, often by bouncing his heels, shaking one or both of his hands back and forth as if fanning himself, or shaking his head. He’s so afraid that someone will tell him he looks stupid and crush his joy completely, but he can’t help it. The more he holds himself back, the more restrained and diminished his happiness feels. But again, Levi trusts you so much. He knows (or at least wants to believe) that he can be free to express himself around you – if no one else.

Letting him be himself, loving him enough to listen, and sharing in his happiness are precious gestures that he appreciates more than he can say, which is why he comes to you first with these things. That earned trust has adorable rewards, such as Levi getting so excited that he hugs or kisses you of his own volition before getting flustered but asking to continue anyway.

Satan

You are the first to know when Satan has inside information about new events and shops that he receives from acquaintances. Even if the event is being scheduled on the low, he trusts you not to tell anyone before it’s appropriate (and he’ll tell you not to say a word when he needs to keep the information secret). He wants to show off his connections a bit, but moreover, he just wants to let you know because you might find something new to be interesting and may want to start making plans in advance. Furthermore, Satan likes being able to take advantage of his inside knowledge to ask you out before anyone else gets a chance. The less competition he has to contend with, the better.

“Ah, MC. I heard that there’s going to be a pop-up night market downtown the weekend after next,” Satan brought up casually.

“Oh? I didn’t hear anything about it yet, but that seems fun – if it won’t be too busy.”

“I know someone on the planning committee. She told me that they just finalized the date with Diavolo yesterday. They’re just preparing the marketing and advertising plan. Are you interested in going – with me, that is?”

Satan wants to ask you out first, but he’s also extremely excited to share interesting Devildom events and places with you. He’d hate for you to get bored with the Devildom (or with him), and new things are a great opportunity to ensure you enjoy your life there.

Typically, Satan tells you calmly and informally in-person once he can get you alone for a few minutes. However, when it’s an event or shop that he’s excited for (especially things like new cat cafés and pop-up book sales), he might call you instead of waiting. If he does wait, he’ll be visibly excited when he sees you, eagerly getting you alone so he can tell you. When he’s excited about the information, Satan will practically beg you to go out with him. If it’s something he cares about, he’s desperate to share that experience with you (in part because he knows he’ll enjoy it even more if you’re by his side, and partly because he knows he won’t enjoy it fully if he has to think about you being there with someone else).

Asmodeus

Asmo wants you to be the first to know when he designs new products or gets on magazine covers. It’s so important to him that you know when he’s accomplished something, and as much as loves sharing his sense of beauty with his adoring followers, that could never compare to his need to share that with you. You’re one of the most beautiful things to ever exist in Asmo's eyes; it only makes sense that he would have to share his gorgeous creations or even more lovely image with you – he just also happens to want to share them with you before he can share it with anyone else. Asmo is so serious about you needing to know first that he will reschedule announcements if he doesn’t have the chance to tell you before the announcement would go up. If you hear about if from anyone else, he will sulk all day – even if you praise him for a job well-done.

“Ugh, but I was supposed to tell you!”

“I’m still really proud of you, Asmo. This jewelry line is gorgeous. It really captures your essence, too. The pink star ruby encircled by the scorpion’s tail is lovely, and you were the perfect model.”

“Of course I was, but I worked so hard on that line and that photoshoot took hours. I wanted you to know before anyone else found out. It was supposed to be a big surprise.”

“It was still a surprise.”

“But I didn’t get to see the look on your face when you found out.”

Asmo will pout no matter what you say. The best course of action would be to offer him some sort of physical affection (a hug, cuddling, kisses, head, sex) until he feels better. He may be overdramatic, but that’s how much he values sharing parts of himself with you and you alone. It isn’t until after Asmo fails to inform you first that he realizes how much he cherishes the few hours or days when only you two know. For that short window of time, Asmo feels the spotlight over him shut off, and he finds your body in the dim Devildom starlight where the only visible thing is your sweet, adorable face. If he’s lucky, you won’t be able to turn your gaze away from him.   

Beelzebub

When you aren’t able to show up and watch Beel at his sports games and competitions, the second thought in his head after he wins a game (after how hungry he is feeling) is how you’ll react when you find out that he won. Beel will get giddy over the idea of you hugging him or caressing his cheek and telling him that he did a good job. He won’t rush home – especially if he’s hungry and needs to get something to eat – but his mind will wander and imagine all the ways you might praise him or reward him for winning until he sees you again. Beel will start to smile for seemingly no reason after a game, but that’s just because he’s excited to tell you how well he (and his teammates) did. If Beel is feeling impatient, he will let you know via message. It isn’t the same as getting to see your face when he tells you, but he still holds out hope that you’ll praise him in-person.

Before, Lucifer and Belphie were the first to find out that Beel had won. It doesn’t register to Beel that he goes to you first, and he can’t remember when or exactly why he started to do that. All he knows is that he has never enjoyed being praised by anyone more than you, and that’s justification enough for him to keep doing it.

On the rare occasions that Belphegor is the only one who can attend Beel’s match, if Belphie falls asleep before the game ends, Beel will let his brother stay asleep afterward – even opting to carefully carry him home to avoid waking him up. Beelzebub does that because he’s nice and wants to let Belphie rest, but he also does it so he can tell you he won before Belphie wakes up.

Whenever Beel is in a slightly frisky mood or has been feeling lonely, he will ask you to kiss him as a reward for doing so well. When Beel is feeling pent up, he may be blunt and sexual: “MC, as a reward for winning, can I suck your dick/eat you out?” Even if you try to explain to him that it sounds more like a reward for you, he’ll tell you that he just asked for what he wanted.

Belphegor

Belphegor tells you immediately when he finds out about upcoming meteorological events and new plants in the botanical gardens. He didn’t used to care about telling anyone about anything like that before you came along. If he found out about a meteor shower or saw an impressive new plant the last time he ventured to the botanical gardens, he might have brought it up to his brothers casually in passing – often days or weeks after finding out. However, after you, he can’t seem resist the urge to let you know right away, typically through a message. Belphie might call if the event is occurring at that moment or will be happening shortly/soon enough that he can’t wait for you to read the text. He might also call if he wants you to meet him in the gardens as soon as possible for a date.

Belphie uses these updates as an excuse to ask you out. When he tells you, he typically follows that by asking you to check it out with him. He doesn’t feel that he needs to specify that he intends it as a date unless you bring up inviting anyone else. In that case, he will clarify his intentions, but he’ll pout and be upset that you didn’t seem content to go with him alone. The reason why Belphie gets upset that you invited someone else is because both updates are about things Belphegor cares about. The stars and the gardens are two of Belphie’s favorite things about the Devildom. By telling you about meteorological events and new plant specimens, he is inviting you to share in some of his interests. He craves a deeper connection with you and figures that bonding over something you both enjoy might help, so he tries to expose you to cool (by his standards) plants and meteorological events as often as possible to get you interested.

Even accidentally rejecting his plan for a date to enjoy his interests alone hurts his feelings – as if you were rejecting a part of him. Still, the occasional rejection isn’t bad enough to make Belphegor give up on dozens of date opportunities every year. He’ll stop pouting if you give him enough attention or if you just give him a day or two.

(the demon brothers, bad version)

[matchamilkislover]

White Horse, 2. (a.a.)

pairing: knight!abby x princess!reader

cw: fantasy!au, fem!reader, a tiny bit of blood mentioned, eventual displays of fighting and violence bc it’s fantasy, kind of slow burn?, tension, reader has an attitude, tall af!abby bc size difference, royalty!au, mentions of arranged marriages, some mentions of au politics, abby in armor is a warning in itself

synopsis: you are the youngest princess of the royal family that rules over your kingdom, Aphrynia. now a young adult, you’ve come of age in a tense time, and your personal protection is of utmost importance — which is why the resignation of your previous personal knight means a rushed reassignment ceremony with little to no preface. That being said, why does the name of your new knight sound so familiar?

word count: 3.67k

a/n: this is a kinda slow and really dialogue-heavy chapter but i’m still giggling and kicking my feet, i am so excited for the rest of the story omllll (it’s my own story i have to write it myself but i’m also delulu)

you can read part 1 here!

⊹ ⋆｡˚ ————————— 𓆩♡𓆪 —————————⊹ ⋆｡˚

Clapping resounded in the large room, but you paid the sound no attention. Yours and Abby’s gazes were still locked on each other, like you were caught in a dance to see who would break away first. Finally, she gently kissed the top of your hand and released it, standing to tower over you with her tall, built form. The simple kiss on your hand made your heart speed up unexplainably, and you swallowed and quickly pulled it down to your side, burying your hands in the skirts of your gown. Abby’s gaze, however, was still locked on you, and you looked down and then around the room to avoid her gaze. What in the world was going on?

Realizing that everyone else in the room had moved on from the ceremony and started milling about, you too decided that it was time to go, clearing your throat before stepping out of place to find Nina. Abby opened her mouth and looked like she was about to reach out and say something to you, but was interrupted by members of the court starting to swarm and try to steal her attention. Thank god, you thought to yourself, dashing away before court members could swarm you, too.

A hand suddenly fell on your shoulder as your eyes searched the room for your lady’s maid, and you cursed in your head, turning to see which Lord or Lady (or worse, daughter or son) had gotten their claws into you. You would’ve breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that it was one of your own siblings if it wasn’t George.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’d just seen a ghost, little sister,” he teased, that shit-eating grin of his spreading across his face. You just rolled your eyes and turned to face him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, George,” you lied, brushing his hand off your shoulder and crossing your arms. He laughed.

“Oh sure. She’s the one you always attended lessons with, right? Yeah, she was fun,” he replied casually.

“If by fun you mean insufferable, then sure,” you retorted. “Please, you only liked her because she supported your shenanigans.”

He lifted his hands humorously. “Hey, you got me there. It’s nice to feel appreciated once in a while.” You sighed and started visually searching the room again, hangover still leaving you in a mood not quite fit for George’s lovely personality.

“I’m sure it is. But you’re a big boy, so if you could entertain yourself so I can get away from this lovely conversation, that would be great,” you finally huffed and quickly strode away, back on the hunt for Nina. Finding her meant finding breakfast and a nice rant session. And, you thought as your head throbbed again, a lot of water.

“There you are!” A familiar voice squealed as you moved about the cavernous room. You instantly smiled.

“Oh, Nora, thank goodness,” you squealed back as your eyes landed on your friend approaching just from your left. The two of you met with joining hands, squeezing comfortably.

“Are you alright? You looked entirely shocked to see Knight Anderson up there,” Nora inquired, her brows furrowing in concern. You sighed for what felt like the millionth time on this already exhausting day.

“I’m fine, I just didn’t really expect to see her, that’s all,” you replied, trying your best to brush off the way your heart pounded in your chest. You really wished it would stop that. Nora suppressed a knowing smile.

“She’s certainly changed a lot, hasn’t she,” Nora noted with waggling eyebrows.

“Nora,” you gasped, fighting the urge to smile with her. “You know good and well my opinion of her, so you can stop that now!” Though it felt genuine to you, your retort was unconvincing, and Nora simply rolled her eyes.

“Are you seriously still hung up on that? It’s been what, 8 years?”

“9,” you interrupted. “It’s been 9.” Nora rolled her eyes again.

“Close enough. If you want to hold a grudge, that’s fine by me, but I am going to enjoy this while I can,” she teased, sauntering away as you gasped again and feigned reaching out to hit her playfully as she walked away.

Finally, you spotted Nina waiting patiently for you near the edge of the room and let out a breath of relief. You approached her quickly, and her face lit up as you neared, feeling much less awkward when she was with you rather than being alone as a lady’s maid without her princess. You easily hooked your elbow with hers as you took a spot next to her, desperate to seem too occupied to socialize with anyone else.

“Can we please get out of here?” You begged through the clenched teeth of your plastered smile, nodding gracefully to people who passed you like nothing was wrong. Nina almost giggled.

“Yes of course, princess,” she replied, the two of you stepping forward and turning to the door.

“Why does everyone keep giggling at me?” You questioned, again through clenched teeth.

“Excuse me for my bluntness, but your reaction to Knight Anderson was quite entertaining,” she replied, still suppressing giggles.

“My reaction? What reaction?! I was under the impression my face was quite neutral, thank you!” You replied in a way that was almost offended.

“You just seemed quite surprised to see her, is all,” Nina explained gently. “I highly doubt someone who doesn’t know you well would have noticed, princess,” she reassured as the pair of you finally approached the large doors that would lead you out of this blasted throne room.

“It’s not my fault no one told me she of all people would be my new knight! You would be caught off-guard too if you were me!” You retorted, trying to keep your voice to a whisper despite your urge to raise it.

“All I’m saying, princess, is that-” Nina’s reply was cut off by a voice ringing out over the chatter of the crowd to you.

–

In terms of the aftermath of the ceremony for Abby, it was certainly a wave of attention — attention she didn’t want even one bit, especially when the only person she really wanted to talk to was you. Judging by your reaction, you certainly hadn’t been expecting to see her. Hell, she hadn’t been expecting to see you either until maybe 10 days ago. But it seemed like no one had bothered to inform you that she would be your new knight.

“Knight Anderson?” a voice asked, bringing Abby out of her thoughts and back to the many people surrounding her in the throne room.

“Hmm?” She replied, clearly having zoned out and not heard whatever the woman had said. She was quite a sight to take in, with gaudy clothing and a tight, pointed face. The woman smiled, but it looked more like a sneer.

“Oh, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Lady Ulfrid, I’m new here as well. I was just wondering, Queen Arabella spoke quite highly of your accomplishments, and it must be so for you to be a personal knight for her youngest daughter. What might these so-called accomplishments be, I might ask?” Lady Ulfried sneer-smiled again, and this time, Abby couldn’t help but feel like Abby saw the expressions just as they were. She was questioning her.

Raising an eyebrow, Abby let a smirk dance on the corners of her mouth and adjusted her stance. “Well, I was top of my class in training, but that’s not the answer you’re looking for, is it? So what would you like to hear about? The battles I led in our recent land conflicts with Chryiont? Or the ones I led 2 years ago in Dungard? Or was it my successful takedown of the great Pirate Duke? You’ll need to be more specific, my lady,” Abby replied with a knowing smile, satisfied by the woman’s widening eyes.

“Oh, well, I- I just meant, um-, well,” Lady Ulfrid floundered, and it satisfied something a little sadistic within Abby. She was tired of being questioned because of her age, much less her gender, and it felt nice to make people who questioned her then question themselves instead.

“Don’t worry,” she replied, cutting off the woman and leaning down to her height. “I think I know exactly what you mean.” She smirked, and stood back to full height as Lady Ulfrid’s face reddened and she sped away from the knight, muttering something incoherent under her breath.

Turning to scan the rest of the room with her hands clasped behind her back, Abby suddenly realized that talking to Lady Ulfrid had made her lose sight of you. Last she saw, you were talking with one of your court friends — Nora, was it? — and now you had completely disappeared. Something about this felt oddly familiar. Right as she thought she caught a flash of your dress — god, that dress made you look something unearthly — another person tapped on her arm, and she nearly groaned before turning and seeing who it was.

“Long time no see, huh Anderson?” George asked with a sheepish grin, pulling her in for a one-handed hug. Abby grinned back and returned the hug gladly.

“Too long,” she replied easily. “But you know, I don’t think I can condone your shenanigans now,” she continued teasingly. George laughed with a wide, open mouth, patting Abby on the arm.

“Yeah, well, I’ll just have to figure out a way around you,” he replied jokingly.

Abby chuckled and shook her head. Suddenly remembering that she had been looking for you, she snapped to attention, scanning the room quickly. Finally, she spotted you nearing the exit with your lady’s maid, and she patted George on the arm as a farewell before starting after you.

“Princess!” She called, nearly jogging across the room and swiping between different huddles of people. “Princess!”

—

Your smile dropped when you heard Abby calling after you. Shit. While you stood there trying to accept that Abby Anderson would be constantly on your heel from now on, Abby caught up, slowing to stop and face you. You looked at her, expecting her to say something, but she just stared back.

And you both kept staring.

Looking at her felt like seeing a dear old friend and someone entirely foreign to you all at the same time. Like two winds hitting you from opposite directions, pushing the breath out of your lungs and filling them back up all in one motion. She was so different but so familiar, it made you want to both run away and never leave her presence all at once. You didn’t even realize you were staring, studying her like art in a museum, until Nina loudly cleared her throat beside you.

Whoops.

You came to a start and also cleared your throat awkwardly, nodding to Abby as a delayed greeting as you shared an uncomfortable look with Nina. “Well, uh…I, we…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You remarked awkwardly. This was already going terribly.

“It has,” Abby confirmed with a nod. You pursed your lips.

“Well, uh, I suppose we should get going, shouldn’t we, princess?” Nina asked timidly, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, yes, of course,” you replied quickly, nodding and turning with Nina to return on course to your chambers.

You grimaced uncomfortably in Nina’s direction, and she returned the look apologetically. Abby looked like she had wanted to say something else, but instead bit her tongue and followed the two of you silently. The walk through the corridors was painfully quiet, you unconsciously straining to listen to the sound of Abby’s footsteps behind your own, hyper aware of her proximity to you. For someone who called her despicable the last time you had seen each other, you were certainly strangely invested in even the smallest movements of Abby Anderson.

Once you and Nina were safely inside your chambers, with Abby standing in place just outside your door, you flopped into a chair, rubbing your forehead. “This day has got to be some twisted sort of dream,” you moaned, slipping off your shoes one at a time. Nina simply suppressed a giggle and shushed you.

“These walls are not as thick as you wish them to be,” she reminded you in a hushed voice, perching in a chair adjacent to yours while she awaited your breakfast request. You pouted and sighed.

“I truly don’t understand why nobody told me she would be my new knight! I mean, she disappeared the day after we had our millionth argument 9 years ago, and now, out of the blue, she’s going to be right behind me 24/7? Guarding me? Protecting me like someone’s out for my blood? It’s just��fucking insane!” You whisper-yell, frustration bubbling over now that it was just you and Nina. Well, and Abby, waiting just outside the door.

Nina sighed, knowing that she should try to make you feel better, even though she couldn’t help but agree with how you felt. “The queen does what she does for a reason, I’m sure. With you being young and the whispers I hear from the other servants, I’m not surprised she wants a trusted eye on you,” she replies in a quiet voice. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, nodding.

“I know, I know. It’s just frustrating that not a single soul ever bothers to tell me anything. I mean, I would have really liked a warning that the girl I basically grew up with was not only returning to the palace as a knight, but my personal knight, and, to make matters worse, she looks like—” you gesture wildly to the door, “—that! How am I supposed to deal with that!?” you exclaim, your whisper lifting a little. Nina starts giggling uncontrollably, and after a minute you join her, if only because of the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“I think,” Nina says, taking a deep breath once her giggles finally subside, “that some breakfast and a lot of water might help make you feel better, hmm? Maybe a tonic from Dr. Anderson?” Nina offers kindly.

“Yes, please, you’re a saint, Nina,” you reply, rubbing your forehead again as the throbbing pushes forward. “But, no tonic, actually, please—I can’t handle being embarrassed by asking Abby’s father for a hangover cure the first day she returns, I think I might keel over from sheer embarrassment,” you finish with a groan. Nina chuckles and nods, standing from her perch.

“Whatever you say, princess,” she says with a pat on your shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, she pushes the door open and exits the room, mumbling an awkward greeting to Abby that makes you cringe from sheer discomfort.

Sighing, you look around at the chaos that is your room after this morning’s rushed preparation activities, and decide that the least you can do even with this raging hangover is make your bed. You stand determinedly and approach the bed, pulling back layer after layer neatly to then arrange each one on top of the last. It’s a bit awkward with the shuffling of your dramatic skirt around the edge of the opulent bed frame, but you manage to make it work.

You’re tucking in the last corner of your many blankets when an unfamiliar knock on the door catches you off guard, and you get stuck pulling your hand out from beneath the mattress. You pull harder and harder, gritting your teeth and kicking yourself mentally for the ridiculousness of it all. Stupid fucking mattress, you groan mentally as you pull, why is this thing so goddamn heavy!? With one exceptionally strong pull, your hand rips free from its feather-filled prison, only for the momentum to send you falling backwards into a heavy sofa behind you, the collision making a crashing sound that mixes oh so wonderfully with the surprised shriek that leaves your mouth. You catch yourself just barely on an arm of the sofa, but have no time to process what just happened when Abby comes barging into the room, eyes wide as she searches for you.

Just perfect.

You both stare at each other like deer in headlights when your eyes meet, unsure of what to do. It’s Abby who breaks the silence first.

“Are you alright, princess?” She asks in a concerned tone, walking over to you gingerly. Her large form seems almost unnatural in your space, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the proportions.

“Um, yes, I’m fine, I just…fell,” you explain awkwardly, cheeks going pink. You stand straight and pull your hand off the sofa arm, hissing quietly when the friction stings on your pointer finger. Looking down to inspect it, you notice a long splinter shoved inside of the skin and grimace.

“You just fell?” Abby asks quizzically, raising an eyebrow as she eyes the splinter.

“Well, I, um— I got my hand stuck, and when I pulled it out, I guess I pulled too hard and just…fell…” Your voice trails off as you look from her to the bed and back to your hand, touching the splinter gingerly and hissing again.

Abby nods, humming in understanding. “I see…do you need help, um, with that?” She asked, gesturing to the splinter.

“Oh no, I’ve—I’ve got it,” you reply casually, trying to hide the clenching of your jaw when you gently pull on the slice of wood. Abby opens her mouth to ask if she can help again, but you're already setting your jaw and pulling the splinter firmly, gasping at the more intense stinging when it slips out of your skin. A large bead of blood immediately forms on the spot, hinting to a stream, and your face pales at the sight as you bite your lip and look away, eyes searching for a handkerchief.

Your breath quickens in panic as you search, just the thought of the blood now seeping out of your finger making your breath quicken and your heartbeat skyrocket. A warm hand on yours and the feeling of a handkerchief being dabbed on your finger pulls you out of your growing panic, and you look to see Abby ever so gently holding your hand in one of your own while the other dabs the blood from your finger with a handkerchief.

“I remember one time when we were 9, you fell and scraped your knee on the stone while we were running in the garden, and you were very nearly screaming,” Abby said suddenly as she looked at your finger. “I guess I was right to assume that fear hadn’t changed much,” she continued, chuckling. A breathy chuckle left your mouth in return, gaze still focused on her hands touching your own.

“I never did have the stomach for it, did I?” You responded quietly, a gentle smile dancing on your lips. “I guess some things never change.”

“Yes,” Abby agreed, “some things never really change, do they?” She spoke in nearly a whisper, eyes finally glancing up to meet yours. Your breath caught in your throat, heartbeat slowing as you gazed into the stormy blue of her eyes.

“I guess not,” you whispered.

The sudden rapt knocking of Nina’s small fist and her pushing the door into your room ripped both of you out of the trance you had been in, you grabbing the handkerchief and holding it to your finger while Abby’s hands dropped yours and she stood at attention. Her mouth opened like she was about to announce her arrival before she spotted the two of you standing unusually close, and her movement stopped, brows immediately furrowing in confusion.

“I— We—“ you started.

“She fell!” Abby nearly shouted, her expression unsure. “She fell and I heard the commotion, so I came in, and she, um, got a splinter,” she finished, gesturing toward your hand. You raised your handkerchief covered finger as proof, and Nina nodded slowly. You weren’t quite sure why you felt like you had been caught doing something wrong, but it certainly did, and you certainly weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Abby cleared her throat, and nodded to the still open door. “Well, um, I should…yeah,” she stuttered, nodding a goodbye to both of you before returning to her post outside of the door that she closed behind herself.

As soon as the latch clicked, Nina’s eyes were on you like a hawk, and you were retreating back to where you had been sitting with your face in your hands. “Did I seriously just see that?” She asked incredulously, bringing a tray of food over with her and setting it on a small table. You nodded, face still in your hands, but you were quickly coaxed out by the smell of the food.

“I was just trying to make my stupid bed, and my stupid hand got stuck under the stupid mattress, and I fell pulling it out and got a splinter on my finger, and then it started bleeding when I pulled it out, and…yeah. That’s about it,” you poured the words out quickly, immediately feasting and downing large gulps of water when you finished. Nina simply nodded knowingly and watched, nibbling on a piece of toast as you ate.

“Y’know, that didn’t seem very despicable to me,” she remarked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, a mischievous grin growing on her face.

“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, turning an annoyed glance at her. “Are you going to keep being like this? It was just an awkward situation,” you complained, shoving another piece of fruit in your mouth. Nina laughed and nodded.

“I’m sorry, princess, but it’s been just too easy,” she retorted, still laughing. You rolled your eyes, but inside, your heart still skipped a beat every once in a while, thinking about her calloused, warm hands encapsulating yours, and her deep eyes gazing into yours like nothing else existed in the world.

You seriously needed to distract yourself if you were going to survive this.

⊹ ⋆｡˚ ————————— 𓆩♡𓆪 —————————⊹ ⋆｡˚

taglist: @paqerings @katniiss @dummysimp011 @chocbaleine

[xxcallmemaryxx]

Hiiiii, haven’t been able to get enough of ur page oml, u write the ghouls amazingly. 😍

Could u please write how the ghouls would be with their s/o (she/her or they/them pronouns, whatever ur most comfortable w) that had been abused by their sibling during childhood so their scared of physical contact but super touch starved (just wants to be held) and scared of disappointing their peers so they just want to be perfect?

Not reflecting at all 😶

Just some comforting fluff?

I deeply apologise if this triggering in anyway, I couldn’t see anywhere that said what u r and what ur not comfortable w writing.

(Feel free to ignore)

Much love ❤️❤️❤️

Ghouls x GN reader

(Warning: talks of trauma, and upsetting situations but nothing descriptive. More just implying.)

Let me just preface this by saying every single one of the ghouls would be one million percent patient with you, they love intensely and they always want you to feel comfortable around them, so the ghouls will forever walk at *your* pace.

Mountain could sit in silence with you and consider that quality bonding time, so he would never expect anything from you that you’re not comfortable with. Of course he understands that this aspect of having some kind of a relationship with someone (romantic or platonic) frightens you, and he doesn’t take it lightly when you try to push yourself too far just to please… him? No. He can hear the way your heart races with panic and he can smell the fear that wafts off you when put in a position that may result in some kind of physical affection, even if you pretend you’re okay with it. So he will quite often remind you he is here for the long run, there is no rush to push yourself beyond what you’re ready for and he is ready to walk this path with you every step of the way, no matter how long it takes. Your presence alone is enough for him, your presence alone is all he needs. And when the time comes for you to feel okay with working on this part of yourself, you best believe Mountain is going to be so proud of every milestone you reach. He can see your frustration when your brain works against what your heart wants, but he has enough patience for the both of you. And he knows how strong you are, he knows damn well that one day you’ll be able to look back on how far you’ve come. And he can only hope that you’ll be as proud of yourself as he is.

Aether also has a lot of patience when it comes to this. He never wants to put any pressure on you to do anything with him that you’re not okay with. He understands your want to feel touch, he wants to touch you. He wants to hold you and feel you and bask in you, but he loves you so much that just smelling you around the ministry or even after you’ve been in his room is enough for him. Because it’s you he loves, and who you are and how you treat others, that’s what he sees. He doesn’t base his love for you off how much affection he gets, he will love you regardless. It means the world to him that despite what you’ve been through, you still trust him enough to share that with him and to be around him. Aether holds that trust you’ve given him so close to his heart, he swears if he ever broke it he would send himself back down to hell. At some point, you find yourself sitting next to Aether on his couch, pinkies interlinked after you’ve spend the better part of the night watching films on his tv. He doesn’t mention it, you don’t mention it. But that right there is a memory Aether will never ever forget, it marks the beginning of you becoming used to physical affection again. He wants to scream from the rooftops about how proud he is of you, but he keeps his cool and let’s you take it at your own pace. Although…you can basically see the pride he has for you radiating off him, which just reminds you that you definitely have an amazing ghoul with you.

Swiss is naturally an affectionate ghoul, he loves to just touch and feel and hold his loved ones. So when you share your past with him, and explain to him how difficult it is for you to feel comfortable with physical affection, he doesn’t see it as a bad thing. He understands that you’re learning to accept physical touch again, so for him… he is now learning what you are and are not okay with. In his head, this is just a journey the two of you are going to go on together. Learning along the way. Swiss is open to setbacks. Of course things are not going to go 100% smoothly, there are going to be times when the two of you need to take a few steps back together, before you can continue to move forward together. And Swiss is prepared for that, because ultimately that just means that he still gets to be here to see you grow and work towards what you want. What matters the most to him is that you are comfortable around him. As much as he would love to hold you, and as much as you would love that too, it doesn’t define how Swiss shows his love for you. He gets to see you everyday, he gets to talk to you everyday, he gets to share his life with you everyday and honestly… he couldn’t be more thankful. You both are learning together, and Swiss really sees that as genuine bonding. Because now you get to grow together. In 10 years from now you can look back on your lives together and see how much you’ve changed since now, that is what Swiss can hardly wait for. It won’t be easy but when that day comes, when he can wrap you up in his embrace and feel you against him… he will know it was all worth it. Every single second.

Rain cried. When you told him what happened and what you went through, he cried. You knew it was going to happen, your beautiful water ghoul feels emotions big time. But it was a conversation you needed to have with him. He immediately asks you what is okay and what isn’t okay, because he needs to know he isn’t going to accidentally overstep any boundaries or put you in an uncomfortable situation. Rain is an observer, he likes to pick up on things you do that tells him everything he needs to know, despite being able to smell it out of you anyways… but he spends a lot of time watching you. (Also because loves you so of course he’s gonna want to look at you). But one thing he notices is how you tend to keep close to him during stressful situations. Perhaps whilst in big crowds, when the whole ministry gets together for mass or for an event the clergy is holding. Or if the weather outside is really stormy and the loud thunder is making it hard to settle down, he’s noticed you tend to just keep a bit closer to him. His brain immediately goes into protector mode: safe safe safe need to keep you safe need to keep you safe. But he doesn’t touch you, or grab you. Instead, he steps just a little closer so you know he’s there and he just intensifies his scent. It completely encompasses you, so your brain knows he’s there but despite not being able to feel his physical body against you… you can still feel him around you. It only takes a few moments and he can smell the panic wafting off you dissipate. You don’t need to thank him, because he can just see it in the way you look at him. He lives to see you happy, and if he is the one making you happy then he doesn’t need anything else.

Phantom loses his mind when you tell him. He was actually the one that bought it up to you. After having received such affections from the other ghouls when he was summoned, his ghoul brain automatically wanted to share those same affections with you. He sees his lover and just wants to scoop you up. To show you what the other ghouls showed him. So when you avoided it, and when he could smell the panic coming off you every time he got too close for comfort he couldn’t stop the question falling from his mouth. He sat with you while you explained to him why, and he listened to every word. Until the moment you finished talking and he allowed it all to sink in… he took a few heated laps around your bedroom and then decided he needed to sit down for a minute. Got back up again a second later and felt like laps worked for him the first time so why stop now huh? Needless to say Phantom was livid. You did not deserve that and he hates you ever had to experience that. After that, he keeps his hands to himself but he just can’t help but keep close to you. He hovers… and you don’t even think he notices when he’s doing it. He told you right away that his arms will be open for you the moment you are ready, there’s no time limit and there’s no pressure. For as long as he is still breathing then his arms will always be open for you (metaphorically and literally). There’s no getting rid of him after this either, no matter how many breakdowns, no matter how many setbacks, no matter how many times you try to tell him it’s just not worth it and you wouldn’t blame him if he wasn’t happy with you anymore… he looks you square in the eyes, and tells you there’s not a thing in the universe that could drive him away. He is here for you. And he will always be here for you.

Dewdrop didn’t start out being very affectionate, you’d kind of mentioned to him briefly how you weren’t too crash hot on it and he didn’t question it. Until the two of you got to a point in your relationship where even Dew felt like maybe there should be a little more touching going on… so he just outright asked you how you felt about it. And then he saw you tense up. And he watched avoid his eyes. And he sniffed out the immediate worry radiating off you the second he said the word “touching”. For a moment he thought he was the problem… that maybe he’d accidentally said or done something that made you uncomfortable early on in the relationship and so he’d lost any right he had to touch you. And in that brief moment he swore to Him that he would do anything in his power to work on fixing that and to never make you feel like that again. When he learned the truth… well. As much as he tried to keep himself calm, it wasn’t easy. But of course he couldn’t stop thinking about how he immediately wanted to do anything he could to never make you feel like that again… Dewdrop was prepared to walk barefoot across the planet if you asked him too. The patience Dew holds with you is unreal. He is quick to remind you to settle down and listen to yourself and what your body is telling you if you try to push yourself beyond what you’re mentally ready for. He wants you to enjoy touching him and being touched by him, when it happens. He doesn’t want you to do it if you’re trying to do it just for his sake. This is for both of your sakes. This whole experience with you has been quite a learning experience for Dew too. He has realised a lot about himself, and how deeply he really feels when it comes down to the people he holds dear. He looks at you and realises you two have forever together. You’re both as safe as possible within the walls of the ministry, and even if you weren’t he would protect you. He will never not be angry about what you went through, but he reminds himself to focus on what you need now, so long as he can pick up your lingering scent around his room every day, he will be a happy ghoul.

.

.

.

Every time I write some headcannons they get longer and longer with each ghoul omg..

Also Thankyou to this anon, I added a little list pretty much outlining some things that I wouldn’t be okay with writing - on my pinned post!

That was a great idea!!

Also also, sending you lots of love I hope you’re okay <3 <3

[rwylm-things]

Author’s note : I’m lowkey geeking that I just wrote that !! Ok ok sorry I’m dramatic and cringe. Basically I would just like to preface a few things. This fic is very unfinished, I wrote it a while ago and don’t know if I’ll ever finish. I’ve always wanted to dip my toe into creative writing but always been to scared of…..sucking? This definitely sucks though.

Despite that I read someone say on here that your first writing is going to be bad. So here it is; my god awful Jason fic. What better way to start my journey of writing than fan fiction (please be nice I’m sensitive)

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

BLOW-POPS

Jason Todd x reader

Warnings : suggestive language

Word Count : 763

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Finally,

You immediately braced your legs for the jump out of your seat. The ancient wheels on the chair create an uncomfortable squeak. You don’t pause to cringe at the awful sound, instead waving bye to your co-workers and making your way out the door. It had been a long day. Slow, but long. You had been laser focused on the minuscule arm that counted the final hour of the shift. As your legs hurriedly moved towards the car you could feel the tiredness seep through your bones. This particular shift had started in the earliest hours of the morning, as you start the engine your eyes drift up to the colors in the sky meshing together to create an orange hue. You let a hefty sigh leave your lips. The more thought put into it, the more excitement your mind created surrounding the prospect of taking a hot shower, watching some trash tv, and falling asleep on the couch. Smiling contently to yourself, you rush home.

Well. That was the plan. It really was.

You just may have forgotten to calculate for one important factor.

Red Hood.

Red Hood, who you may or may not have started a situationship with after he had saved your life last year. Your vehicle had been in the shop and you narrowly missed the bus for that night. Despite the fact that you’d been living in Gotham for up to a year at that point, you still took your chance and walked home from work. However, luck had never really been on your side. This was an event he would continuously criticize over the next year.

‘no concept of personal security’

‘no awareness about what's going on around you’

‘if I hadn’t been there…’

‘blah blah blah blah blah’

On one hand, you found it annoying that he really believed you couldn't take care of yourself. On the other hand, the delusional part, you relished in the thought of him giving a shit about what happens to you. To be frank, maybe situationship was the wrong word. Although you two were definitely not in a relationship. If you ever did come up with some miraculous courage, you would question the status between the two of you.

You seriously doubted that he would ever commit to a relationship. While he never specifically stated it, you knew. Despite the moments of softness he would spare, ones you would deny sent a fuzzy warmth into your head. Still, it was clear what he wanted from you.

You couldn't say friends with benefits either, that would insinuate that you two were friends. That would insinuate that you know more about him other than, he likes to be on top and has daddy issues.

Anyway, not the point.

Red Hood.

Red Hood, who was casually leaning against the marble countertops when you twisted the doorknob and stepped in. His helmet hung from his fingertips, leaving his face covered in only a black domino mask.

Red Hood.

Red Hood, who currently had you pressed deeply into the couch, leaving no room between your bodies. His full lips pressed harshly against your own, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth. Once you slightly parted your lips, his tongue began dancing with yours, fighting for dominance.

He always won.

“You taste like cherry.”

This was the first he spoke since you had entered the apartment.

“I-” you paused as he began suckling on your neck,

“I ate a blow for lunch. Well actually I ate like six. This nice old lady I helped today gave me a jumbo bag. Don’t ask me why she just carried that around because I don’t know and I wasn’t about to ask. I know that I'm not supposed to be taking candy from strangers but like she was really nice and I was starving. Now that I think about it, I probably ate like ten.”

You rambled quickly, sounding almost breathless from his lips on your neck. You swear you felt him smile against your skin.

Meeting with him always gave you a rush of adrenaline. Meeting with him always created a very specific feeling you swore you could feel run through your veins. Knowing the hands that were gently caressing your upper torso were the same that ruthlessly pummeled the worst of Gotham. Maybe you were messed up, but hey, maybe that's what drew you two together.

That being said, you were tired.

As he moved to kiss further into the crook of your neck, you rested your eyes for a split second.

[aphroditeinthesea]

hi !! could i request a annabeth chase x fem reader that’s really angsty, like im thinking that they’re close friends and annabeth is like sure that reader likes percy and so she bottles her feelings up until she can’t hold it anymore and its all hurt/comfort (i have been listening to ttpd too much lately)

“ a greater woman stays cool (but i howl like wolf at the moon) ”

annabeth chase x fem!reader 🦉

a/n kinda short

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

When Y/N started hanging around more, Annabeth knew why. It was because of Percy. It had to be. Everyone since the dawn of time has had a crush on Perseus Jackson.

Why wouldn't they? He was handsome, charming, brave, funny, smart- that dumbass was everything someone could want. Most importantly, he was a boy.

When the mornings would come, Annabeth would never admit how she’d watch her friend as she would sit with her siblings at breakfast. The way she would laugh at something they’d say. She would throw her head back, letting her locks of hair fall out of her face, nearly catching the gray eyes in a stare. But Annabeth would quickly turn and fake a conversation.

It was more recently that Annabeth couldn't bare it. When the girl would come around when her and Percy were handing out, she would always find some excuse to leave. Or when she knew y/n would be somewhere, suddenly she was just "too busy." She knew she had to avoid y/n at all costs.

However, it was this day that she found y/n practicing with Percy that killed her. She couldn't look away from the way he had his arms around y/n, showing her how to balance her sword.

Her stomach flipped as the scene unfolded in front of her very eyes. His calloused hands over her smaller ones.

She soon locked eyes with Y/N, who softly smiled in return, “Annabeth!”

The blonde awkwardly waved before rushing off to her cabin. The two others were left confused, y/n speaking, “I’m gonna go check on her.” Percy nodded before she ran after Annabeth, awkwardly bumping into a few other campers on the way.

When she finally reached the Athena cabin, she was happy to find only a few of Annabeth’s siblings were there.

She stopped Malcolm as he began walking out the door, “have you seen Annabeth?’

“Yeah, she just ran into the bathroom,” he explained, pointing to the closed door.

“Thanks,” she waved as he left. She made her way to the white door and softly knocked, “Annabeth, it’s y/n,” she prefaced, “are you okay? I just wanted to check on you.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Annabeth was staring at her puffy red eyes in the mirror, “one second,” she called, wiping her eyes and fanning herself to look normal.

“You didn't answer my question.”

“I’m fine,” she choked out.

“No, you're… I’m coming in,” y/n responded, turning the doorknob.

Annabeth panicked, trying to get to the door before it opened. But alas, y/n opened the door, finding the mess of the blonde, standing in front of her.

“Beth-”

“Ugh,” Annabeth covered her face with her tissue filled fists, “it’s stupid, it's so stupid.” She stepped back, eventually sitting on top of the closed toilet.

“What happened?” Y/N kneeled at her, “did I do something?”

“No, gods, it’s not your fault.”

She placed her hand on Annabeth’s knee, “are you sure? Because you keep acting weird whenever I’m around you and Percy, was it because of him and I training- oh.”

The blonde nervously looked at the girl on the ground, beginning to lean back. She knew. She had to. She figured her all out.

“You have a crush on Percy, don’t you?”

Nevermind.

“Oh my gods,” she leaned back. “No, no I don't have a crush on Percy.”

“Oh?”

She took a deep breath, “I don't have a crush on Percy, and I’m not mad at you. I just,” she swallowed, “you two training did bother me, but…”

“What?”

“It’s because of you, not Percy,” she snapped.

Y/N tilted her head, standing up, “what?”

“Look,” she stood up as well, walking past the other girl, “I know you have a crush on Percy-”

“Ew, no I don't.”

Annabeth stood still, looking at y/n, “yes you do?”

She laughed, “gods, no, I don’t.”

“You guys are just friends?”

She nodded, “of course, I couldn't have a crush on him.”

“Why not?”

“Same reason you don’t.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.”

Annabeth leaned against the wall, “I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you're not,” y/n stood next to her, “you're wise.”

Annabeth just laughed, “shut up,” she nagged the girl in return.

“You shut up,” y/n nudged her back.

“Shut up.”

“Shut-” with that, Annabeth held her face in her hands to pull her into a kiss.

As they pulled away, y/n spoke again, “okay, I’ll shut up.”

[signed-sapphire]

The Fallen Star ✨

I want to preface with the fact that I don’t hate Wish! I hate what happened to it, though— I feel if they were given more time, then it truly could’ve been a masterpiece. But with the deadline of 2023 to finish, I think a few things were rushed. Mainly the world building and character development. Everything was so… static. So here I am to expand upon that!

This is my own AU based off of the concept of Wish. It explores Mag’s backsyory, how to make your wish come true, etc. etc. To do this, Asha is now the Kusco-esque princess of Rosas, oh and there’s also there’s a Starboy :3

Warning! There is some swearing because of Asha and by that I mean me. If it is impeding a reading experience please let me know and I’ll change it!

Check for latest updates

—————————

Rewrite 💫

Prologue - Once Upon a Time

Chpt. 1 - Welcome to Rosas

Chpt. 2 - The Sorcerer (fic)

Chpt. 3 - The Roses (fic)

Chpt. 4 - Breathe

Lore :3 Non-story-related-art Fanart! <3 Character refs Concept (not fully canon anymore)

Songs 🎵

“Welcome to Rosas” (updated lyrics)

"A Wish Worth Making"

Bonus ✨

Ask the characters in The Fallen Star!

[always-andromeda]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ DBF!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 4801

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + once is not enough + “Do you like when I touch you like this? I can keep going if you want me to.”

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ Sorry for the massive gap in posting fics! I've been getting into the swing of things with school and I wanted to do these justice instead of rushing through them!! I also want to preface this one by acknowledging that some folks hate this trope and if that’s the case…please don’t leave me hate on it. I am merely a twenty-two year old baby living her older man fantasy (cue that tiktok of Fred Armisen going “I’m sowwy. I’m a widdle baby.” 🥺)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact!!) fingering, unprotected sex, age gap (reader is in her twenties, Joel is in his forties), slight voyeurism, slight dacryphilia, pet names (darlin’, honey, sweetheart, girl), nothing else I can think of!!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

You'd come home from college hoping for some relaxation over summer break. Maybe you'd catch up with family and some old friends. Or maybe you'd find yourself. The opportunities were endless and you were excited. At least until Joel waltzed into the picture. 

The last time you remembered seeing him was your going away party before you moved away for college. He'd been one of the many who clapped you on the back and congratulated you on getting into your school of choice. And when he'd looked at you with those soft eyes and said sentimentally that he was so proud of you...you had no chance at stopping the butterflies that went wild in your stomach.

His praise hit differently.

It had reminded you of a younger version of yourself who'd idolized the man. Your own father was decent. But Joel was the best. Joel was the one you'd call when you ran into trouble and he'd been keeping your secrets for as long as you could remember.

The first time you'd gotten blackout drunk during your senior year, he drove you back to his house and let you shake off the hangover before sending you back home the next morning without a word to your dad.

When your ex-boyfriend dumped you over text, who else was there to save the day but Joel Miller? With a stack of rented eighties action films and an excess of coupons for a local pizza place, Joel gave you a night that felt normal.

If you'd been alone, you might've sulked and sobbed over that shithead. But in his own brooding way, Joel proved that you were worth more than that. Part of you had been a little in love with him for it. 

So, as he'd wished you well on your journey into college, you decided you'd let go of that frivolous teenage fixation. Instead, Joel was reduced to an aspiration. A blueprint for the kind of guy you wanted to be with. A blueprint that had proven to be nearly impossible to fulfill.

To your shock and surprise, most college guys in their twenties couldn't keep up with the maturity of a man who was rapidly approaching his forties. You couldn't help but feel a little repulsed by your new dating pool. Which propelled you to focus more on your studies...which only stressed you out even more. By the time finals came around, you were on the brink of tearing your hair out.

This summer was well earned. And you hated to admit that you'd been a little too enthusiastic to possibly see Joel again.

You hadn't necessarily been looking for Joel's attention. Upon your homecoming, your parents have invited him and a few other family friends over for a barbecue. It should've been a night of ice cold beers and suburban simplicity. But the itinerary suddenly changed once you got some time alone with him.

Standing on the back porch, you watched your parents and their other friends laugh and roast marshmallows over the fire pit on the lawn. As you rested against the wooden railing, you nursed a beer; your third one that night.

Joel emerged from the sliding glass back door with a bear of his own and took a place beside you on the deck.

As doting as ever, he gestured to your drink and asked, "How many of those have you had tonight?"

"Only a few." 

Joel raised an eyebrow.

"Easy, old man," you giggled. "I've spaced them out. So I'm not drunk. Just a little tipsy."

"Ah, so I take it that college taught you how to handle your alcohol better, huh?"

You smacked his shoulder which earned a laugh from him. When his head turned, you got a real good look at him. He'd hardly changed save for a few stray silver hairs and his facial hair being a little scruffier. If anything, those changes only made him that much more enthralling.

So enthralling that it was nearly impossible to pay attention to his small talk. He did what everyone else did. Asked about your classes, your major, what you wanted to do with your degree after graduating. You answered each question with quick answers, eager to get to something more nitty gritty. Because that was what you appreciated Joel most for: his ability to cut through the pointless fat and treat you like an adult. Something that you were sorely missing after only a few days back at home.

You'd taken a long swig of your beer before throwing caution to the wind. "So, Joel?" he looked over at you with raised brows. Then you asked, "You seein' anyone?"

His chest rumbled with a small laugh before he took a sip of her own beer. With his lips pursed around the mouth of the bottle and his eyes crinkled, he tried to conceal his amusement. "Nope," he replied with an air of casualty. "How about you, darlin'? You breakin' those college boys' hearts?"

You scoffed, "No, more like they're breakin' mine."

His brow creased with concern. "Do I need to break some bones?"

"As kind as that sounds...I wouldn't have anybody in particular to send ya to."

That caught his attention. "You mean you're not seeing anybody?"

Not wanting to sound like a complete loser, you explained, "I tried to go on a few dates at the start of the semester. But none of them really worked out. They just weren't my type."

A note of silence passed over you two before Joel wondered, "What would you say is your type, darlin'?"

You wished Joel hadn't been staring at you, waiting for your answer. He had to know this was dangerous territory. He had to know that it wasn't an easy thing to casually admit; the fact that you searched for him in every single man you'd gone out with. 

"Oh, you know..." you trailed off wearily. "Intelligent, strong-willed, no nonsense...but with a good sense of humor...mature–"

"Mature?"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You thought of an explanation quickly, "Yeah. Like...someone who's developed..." Joel eyed you strangely. "...in the mind, I mean. I don't want a guy who I have to practically train before I feel like I could date him."

Joel nodded thoughtfully before teasing, "Well, honey, if you're looking for a mature man...I think a college campus is one of the worst places you could've picked to look."

"Where should I start looking instead?"

His next words seemed to be testing the waters. "Maybe...maybe you should be lookin' a little closer to home."

For the first time you got the idea that it could be possible. He'd only ever looked at you straight with no inkling of duplicity. But now his eyes were going up and down, taking you in like he hadn't ever looked at you right before.

"How close are you thinking?" you asked.

Tipping his head back, Joel drank the last sip of his beer and you watched his Adam's apple bob. Watched a drop of the liquid gold fall from the corner of his mouth before disappearing into his beard. Watched as he set the bottle down on the handrail and straightened himself out.

Then he replied just loud enough for only you to hear, "Maybe the kitchen."

The descent into deviance came fast. From the moment you leaned back against the kitchen counter, Joel's lips were on yours. He tasted like the hops from his drink and smelled woody, it was a distinctly masculine combination that had made you clench your thighs together.

With his hand on the back of your neck, he guided you through the kiss in only the way he could and ensured that it ended before you were ready for it to. His nose bumped against yours as he searched your glazed over expression for any kind of reluctance.

"You sure you want this, darlin'?"

"Fuck, yes. Please," you pleaded breathlessly.

Once he let out a little laugh, he turned you around and you braced yourself on the counter. Starting below your ear, Joel trailed down your neck and along your shoulder. One of his hands was making a similar journey from your hip right up to one of your tits. 

You gasped as he squeezed the mound of flesh gently and you had never been more glad to have taken off your bra earlier on in the day. Because Joel seemed incredibly pleased feeling the full weight of your tit in his hand, all warm and willing to be played with.

His other hand went the opposite direction. Down, down, down it went until it was cupping your sex over your jeans. Which were becoming increasingly uncomfortable as you squirmed in a fruitless attempt to find friction. Middle finger running up the seam of your jeans, you knew that if you were two layers lighter, he'd be so close to dipping into your folds. He was so close it could've driven you insane.

His lips were by your ear again when he whispered, "Do you like when I touch you like this?"

Back pressed flat against his heaving chest, you nodded.

Joel toyed with your zipper. "I can keep going if you want me to..." 

You nodded once more and whined, "Please, Joel, please. Keep going."

And keep going he did. He kept going until you'd finished on his fingers twice. The first orgasm had been hard and quick, intensified by two of his thick fingers fucking you through it. Nothing could be done to conceal the sticky sounds of your cunt clenching around his digits nor the sound of you panting as you came down from the high.

With every ounce of your being you hoped and prayed that you wouldn't be interrupted. Because there was no normal excuse for Joel having his hand down your pants and his erection poking into your back. None whatsoever. And besides, getting caught meant ruining your parent's suburban simplicity.

So, for the second climax, Joel clapped a hand over your mouth and murmured, "Let it all out, honey. Don't worry, no one'll hear. I promise." You followed his directions to a T; practically shrieking when this climax crept up on you and washed over you in a relentless wave that had your thighs trembling and your back arching. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

Because when Joel pulled his hand out of your pants and wiped them off on his own jeans, all you wanted was more. Your body ached with that want.

As much as you knew that Joel was just looking out for you both, it felt like he was deliberately being mean when he mumbled, "Better get back out there before folks get suspicious."

With a quick peck and a light tap on your ass, Joel sent you off. Slick still plastering your underwear to your needy pussy, you waltzed back outside on shaky legs.

And it seemed like your mind spent every waking second thinking about it; about him. His voice, his hands, his scent, his body. Each aspect on its own could make you wet all over again. But all together? He turned you into a goddamn mess.

You couldn't shake him. Like an ever present itch, Joel had etched himself into your bones, ruining you for anyone else. And he made it all the more difficult to forget about him in the aftermath. It astounded you how Joel could shamelessly hang around your dad after that night, offering to help out with his various projects before sitting in your living room and watching baseball with him, just feet away from where Joel had defiled you. That was the brazen behavior that made you hide away in your room for that first week.

The night your parents decided to go out on an impromptu date, you were relieved. With some time alone to think and breathe, you'd sort yourself out. Tonight was reserved as a Joel Miller free evening.

Throwing yourself on the couch, you turned on some show you'd abandoned ages ago. You couldn't quite remember the majority of the plot threads. But that didn't really matter anyways. You doubted you could've scrapped together the mental awareness anyways. All of it was focused on him.

No matter how much you tried to distract yourself, your mind wandered back to him. The promise of his hard cock and his firm hands. Every part of him still had you hypnotized.

Not even your own hand could break that. For a good few minutes you fruitlessly played with yourself. You felt silly and almost pitiful trying to replicate the motions Joel had made. But it wasn't the motions you weren't getting right. It was the feeling. It was the thickness of just his middle finger separating your folds before squeezing your lips between three digits. It was his breath on your neck and his words egging you on. It was the edge of danger. It was the fact that he shouldn't have been able to stir up all of that arousal within you. And it was the fact that he did regardless.

You could never replicate that on your own.

Ruined. Fucking ruined.

Too lazy to get up and grab your vibrator from your room upstairs to help you along, you laid back and whined pathetically, relieved you had the house to yourself. But some 

higher power had to be at play and had a fucked up sense of humor. 

"What the hell are you doin'?"

Head snapping up, you spot the one man you didn't want to see ever again standing in the archway leading into the living room.

Joel Miller had his brow arched like this was some sort of surprise. Like you were on his couch in his living room in his house playing with his–

Before you let yourself finish the thought, you spoke, anger flooding your tone, "What the hell are you doing here? My dad isn't home, so what do you want?"

Joel leaned against the archway casually, still with an air of confidence that felt entirely too cocky. "I know," he shot back. "He said he and your mom would be out late tonight. 

Gave me a spare key earlier and asked if I'd check in on ya on my way home." 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you responded quickly, "Well...you've checked in. I'm fine. Thank you."

And you know the second the words leave your lips that Joel doesn't believe them. He doesn't move. Instead, he surveys your figure sprawled on the length of the couch. Of course Joel is smart enough to infer your guilt. There's almost no innocent reason for your legs to be spread so wide, for your hair to already be so mussed up.

He tilted his head slightly and you knew he was putting the pieces together and picturing you writhing against that couch minutes before.

Finally, he concluded, "You don't seem all that fine, honey."

"I'm perfectly alright. I don't need anything else from you, Joel," you spoke his name pointedly, almost a warning against whatever other ideas he was concocting.

Silence. And you partially hoped that would be the end of it.

Instead he ambles further into the room before seating himself near your feet and gazing across at you. "Are we gonna talk about it at all?"

His furrowed brow threatened to make you fold. But you were determined to stay strong, licking your lips and starting shakily, "I don't see the point. What happened was a one time thing and...I don't want it to happen again."

"You don't want it happening? Or it shouldn't happen?"

"Is there really that much of a difference?"

"There's a massive difference. Because one suggests that you want it to happen again."

"It shouldn't happen, Joel," you answered solidly.

"Then tell me you haven't thought about it once since the other night." Testing the waters, he planted a hand between your knees and slid further up the couch, closer to you. "Tell me that you haven't been desperate to come like that again," he ordered.

"Joel–"

"Ah," he tutted. "Just tell me and I'll be on my way."

You're angry and already aroused. Because he knows that you can't say it. He knows you can't lie to him like that and that fact makes you feel more vulnerable than ever.

"I think about you all the time," you admitted carefully. "So much that it scares me."

At that, Joel's stare softened and he smiled sentimentally. "Me too, darlin'. Me too." It ignited that familiar warmth in your core. The kind that craved being kindled and grown until it could consume you. 

"Is that what you were doing just now? Thinkin' of me?" he asked, eye flickering down to the crumpled front of your pajama shorts.

You could only nod.

"Did you get off?"

This time you shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes. You expected him to laugh at the miserable little confession. Teasing and poking fun had always been part of his personality and – more importantly – part of the casual relationship you'd once shared with him.

He complicated it even further as he cooed with concern, "Oh, little darlin', why not?" It was obvious that shyness would no longer cut it. He wanted words; wanted all of the gory details of just how much damage he'd done with only a few minutes. 

So you indulged him. 

"Because it wasn't you. I can think about you...but that doesn't replace you actually being there."

Joel's cockiness returned as he replied, "You're damn right it doesn't. But we can fix that, right?"

Nodding again, you found yourself treading dangerous waters once more. But this time you didn't mind it all that much. It felt natural when Joel slotted his body between your legs. The warmth emanating from his broad chest immediately encased you; made you feel undeniably safe.

This time his kiss was slow, soaking up the time he knew he now had. The first time he touched you, it seemed like a favor. A reprieve from dozens of disappointments from those pesky college boys. This time, however, it was entirely decadent. It was a strange sort of care and days of tension being channeled into a full on make out session that clogged your senses like molasses.

Joel made his way down your jaw and as soon as his mouth touched down on your neck, he was sucking a mark that would no doubt be noticed by your parents before too long. That was worth the risk to have his hot breath fanning across your skin as he kissed the bruising skin better. 

He didn't have to say it, but you knew that he made the mark on purpose. And you couldn't even scold him for it. Deep down, you wanted to remember this for a while. You wanted to keep him like a secret. You wanted to look at it and know that he was the only one who could do this to you.

Joel's voice rasped beside your ear, "You know what I did after you left that night?"

"Hm?"

"You made me so hard that it wouldn't go away on its own. I had to take care of it all by myself."

"Aw, how sad," you murmured and held his face in your hands. "Poor you."

"Poor me is right. But all I had to do was think of that wet little pussy keeping me warm. Squeezin' me. That did the trick real quick. I don't think I've come that hard in a long while, darlin'. And it's been stuck in my mind ever since."

You had to admit that as much as his words spurred up those sparks and gave you a massive ego boost, it also scared the shit out of you.

"What if I can't live up to what you pictured?" you wondered.

"Honey," Joel began. "As long as you can spread those legs, let me in, and make those pretty sounds for me again, I promise you ain't disappointing anyone."

"I could think of multiple people who'd object to that..." you began to think to yourself. But before you could really finish it, Joel was taking your hand and dragging it south until you hit the denim covering his crotch. He rolled his hips a few times, allowing your palm to run up and down the full length of his cock. Fuck, he was hard. And big. Big enough that your brain scrambled, struggling to handle how intensely the want within you multiplied.

Joel chuckled as you put both hands to work, frantically undoing his jeans. "Jesus, sweetheart, you really don't know the meaning of the word patience, do you?"

"I do. I just know what I want," you replied. Sensing Joel's awe, you continued, "And what I want is for you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me on this couch. I want to feel you for days. I want you to show me everything you've got. Show me you're better than those college boys."

That tapped into something primal in him. Because soon he's rushing to pull his cock out. If his fingers had been filling, you could only imagine how the length would feel once it filled you to the brim.

Joel pulled the flimsy and soaked fabric of both your shorts and panties aside. Running a finger between the folds, he finished every caress with a languid circle of your aching clit. After a few swipes, he drew his hand back and eyed the glistening digit before bringing it to your mouth.

"Have a taste, tell me what it's like."

Opening your mouth, you took his finger graciously and ran your tongue along the underside teasingly. Hollowing your cheeks, you began to suck, taking it back and forth like you would his cock. Before his breathing could get too heavy, you pulled your lips off with a wet little smack and admired how the skin of his finger had already begun to prune.

"So?" Joel's voice broke on the single word.

You contemplated on how to best describe your arousal before settling on giving him a taunting glare and declaring, "I don't know, maybe you should have a taste too." Before Joel could question the statement, you grabbed the neck of his t-shirt and tugged him down to your lips, kissing him deep and slow and dragging your tongue along the seam of his lips. When you detached from him with a soft moan, a thin trail of spit kept your mouths connected.

"You best believe I'm getting a taste of that pussy before summer's over," he sputtered out.

"Only if you fuck me first," you promised dangerously.

With that motivation, Joel was quick to take his cock in hand and give himself a few pumps that already sounded wet with his own pre-come. Carefully and experimentally, he slid the underside of his cock between your folds and you swore to god you could feel the blood rushing through his veins. It was all driving you insane.

"I'll try to go slow," he said tenderly. Then, with the fat head of his cock pressed against your entrance, you were overwhelmed with anticipation.

It was an expectation that was satiated more and more as each inch of him sunk into you. Your breath kept getting caught in your throat and it took everything in you not to cry at just how full you felt. You panted, attempting to catch your breath after being engulfed by him. 

You knew Joel was going through something similar when his eyes practically rolled into the back of his head. For a moment it made you wonder when the last time he felt a cunt was. In all the time you'd known him, he'd never mentioned anyone, never brought anyone around, never even hinted at having any sort of romantic or sexual life. But you're doubted that he was untrained or inexperienced with the control he exercised, keeping his movements gentle and steadying his breath with each rise and fall of his belly. 

Even when you squeezed – just to see what would happen – Joel only winced and asked carefully, "You doin' alright, honey? Need me to stop?"

You were getting sick of this southern charm and gentlemanly manner. Both of you were way past the point of decency.

You meant to sound mean when you snapped, "For fucks's sake, Joel. I need you to fuck me. Now."

"Well, if you're gonna be such a brat about it..." he trailed off, returning your attitude.

He started to pull out, ever so slowly. Then, with his hands gripping your thighs tight, he slammed back in. The impact made you yelp in surprise.

"Is that how you want it, darlin'? You want me to fuck you hard?"

Head starting to fog, you nodded, added on a weak, "Please."

"Alright, since you asked so politely."

He does it again. And again. One after another, Joel delivers every thrust relentlessly. With each articulated stroke, he grunted and it prodded at something volatile inside you. Something that threatened to burst as he stretched and split you apart at the same time. You couldn't remember a time where you'd ever been touched that deep. And fuck, you were so terribly sensitive to it, your whimpers and gasps accompanying Joel's groans.

His movements were greedy, aiming to take as much as he possibly could and you were all too willing to give it to him; clenching eagerly around his cock and nails searching for purchase in the taut muscles of his back.

Like animals, you both scratched and clawed away at each other until there was nothing left but trembling, sweat slicked skin and the decade old couch threatening to give way beneath you both. Though there was a masterfulness in his motions, you could tell that was quickly fading as his thrusts weakened and he stuttered for breath.

Joel buried his head in the crook of your neck and hissed through gritted teeth, "I can't hold on for much longer, darlin'. You feel so fuckin'...fuck...so fuckin' good..."

"Give me your hand," you whined.

You took it, brought it between both your bodies, and held it over your clit. Joel quickly got the picture and divided his attention between your weeping hole and the sorely neglected nub above it. How he managed to uphold a modicum of gentleness with it, you had no clue. All you knew was that as soon as his fingertips began to brush those coveted circles over you, that was when the tears began to fall. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on the white hot pleasure that was burning right through you, visualizing the inferno growing and growing until it had no choice but to explode.

But your eyelids snapped open at Joel's biting tone, "You better look me in the eyes when you come. I need to see it."

Not having it in you to argue or protest, you tried to follow his simple direction. No matter how much you wanted to shut your eyes and somehow try to brace yourself for your incoming orgasm, you had to do as he said. Partially because you wanted him to be proud of you again, but also because you couldn't miss his expression either.

You were glad you withstood the urge because right as you started to come undone, you felt Joel's cock pulse. Then there was the telltale rush of warmth inside you as his seed filled you up. His hand slowing on your clit, you watched as his mouth hung open, letting out a deliciously ravenous groan as you milked him dry. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and the curve of his nose before he wiped them away lazily and collapsed on top of you.

Being in his forties, you weren't surprised that a single fuck could wipe him out so thoroughly. And you gave a breathless chuckle when he confirmed his exhaustion with a low, "Jesus, you wear me out, girl."

"Good," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him and running a hand through his messy, damp hair.

You had no idea when your parents would be home. But you knew that Joel would have to be gone before then. Already you weren't looking forward to that parting. You couldn't bear the thought of his cock slipping out of you, leaving you empty again. And most of all you dreaded when you'd inevitably hear him say goodnight. Because you knew he would; he was polite like that, even after railing you into the family room couch.

For now he was yours. And there was nothing wrong with any of it, you told yourself.

[lxmelle]

Thoughts/Ponderings/Musings on ch 236. About Gojo reaching Sukuna, his death, his relationships, etc.

I know there are people who really dislike the characterisation here, expressing that Gojo is likely far more kind and caring for his students, etc.

Gege and his infinite wisdom over his creation seems to like encouraging headcanon kaisen, lol. He certainly keeps things quite true to life and allows the reader to make their own conclusions.

It is not my place as a casual reader to judge his writing, and I will defend it inasmuch as I also had hoped for more: Just because it isn’t explicitly said, doesn’t mean those things we have seen about Gojo aren’t true. I agree that it is also a shame that more wasn’t or couldn’t be included in this chapter to either dispel or confirm, but that’s masterful writing in itself, I guess.

I take small refuge in my interpretation that this is a glimpse of a conversation; as in real life, we ease into conversations. I enjoyed the dynamics and overall tone. I like to remember that each expression was a decision made, and these details can hold a lot of weight in meaning.

So we see that Gojo prefaces with something else and was responding rather specifically to Geto’s question regarding his fight, his end.

Geto, a natural conversationalist, who is said to be good at being at Gojo’s level, enquires about his fight - entering into neutral territory after Gojo expressed frustration and being stunned after his sudden arrival there.

Geto reads him / the atmosphere well and responds to tune the conversation to a level he can reach Gojo, despite possibly having a lot to say and catch up on himself. (Like, we never hear him talk about his family aside from confirming they escaped.)

He is showing respect for his friend. What do they have to rush for, anyway? I don’t think there is a specific afterlife if they chose to go south. Time may be infinite?

—

A lot more under the cut. Feel free to skim and apologies in advance for tangents. I hope it makes sense overall. I tried to make it as cohesive as possible despite being lengthy.

:: Beware the Word Vomit, overall reaching, meta, interpretations, some satosugu shipping, and general weaving and stringing of themes. ::

Disclaimer: I’m fully aware I may be wrong, as I am with many things, and you’re welcome to drop me any comments or thoughts.

One of the glaring issues was the “Sukuna glazing” as some fans called it. To see Gojo having regard for Sukuna’s strength doesn’t take anything away from Gojo imho, but I get it. What was all this reaching that Gojo was expressing? Surely that doesn’t that precedence? Of all things, is this what he’s regretting in what is possibly his last significant scene in the manga?

A part of me relates to this outrage, but then I try to bring myself down, because we are often kept out of what intimacies are exchanged between Gojo and significant ones (Geto, students, etc.) and we aren’t / haven’t been privy to many deep and elaborate reflections of Gojo or Geto. All we get are ellipses “...” and depictions of longing stares that don’t quite betray their honest thoughts.

So, within the context of the above, Geto asks directly and Gojo describes. Of course he’d want to know how Gojo experienced it. He’s always been the one who cared about how Gojo actually feels or experiences things. He might join in a bit of friendly ribbing, but Geto and Gojo communicate on another level with banter, etc. there’s a reason they’re each other’s best friend.

I also see an interpretation where it cycles back to love is the most twisted curse: it can save people, but it may hold you back from being the strongest. Love has been a theme since the origin story in jjk 0. Gojo’s love for his students and Megumi may or may not have affected their chances of success, but he nevertheless cares and bets on the future (students).

Geto has always been shown to be Gojo’s significant person - a safe person, if you will. Thematically, their designs are two parts of a whole. Their fates intertwine in so many ways, only to be separated ultimately to death.

Since, he’s described not feeling lonely anymore, through love for this students (his legacy and will) and even more now (for himself) that he was wrong about dying alone. He had wanted to find a way to bring Geto home (to jujutsu high [Geto’s theme song “come back home” given by Gege is all about this after all]) but despite all that’s happened, he is with him at the airport, and Gojo is satisfied enough with that, but won’t waste time not bridging gaps any longer -

Gojo is so very forthcoming with Geto in his adult years. Given the opportunity in jjk 0, he not only asks for his last wishes, but conveys his as well. He then speaks his heart in his conversation with Geto; he is candid, yet serious.

I’d like to think it’s infused with more emotion than he ever did in their early days. He confirms his feelings to Geto and confesses his desire to have had him there to send him off. More on this later.

In the original version of the manga, Gojo momentarily reverts back to the use of “ore” just once, before it becomes “boku” again - a shift had taken place in him due to what Geto said in the past. To demonstrate that in a few short panels is quite something too. People change; we evolve through the influence of significant others.

Gojo knows loneliness as he has learnt about love in its different forms. To really know it is perchance what Sukuna doesn’t, despite saying he does.

From this point of view, he says he is sorry for him, as he’s got empathy for Sukuna; that Sukuna couldn’t learn what he had wanted to convey, but perhaps the emphasis was more of a pity for him than feeling disappointed.

In a typical Gojo fashion, he captures it clumsily and makes it about strength in his speech, as if punches and skills thrown at each other could convey that it doesn’t have to be lonely and that they could understand each other - that having a peer would be interesting / satisfying - perhaps also seeking a sense of validation himself in Sukuna. It’s possibly also what prompts people like Nanami to call him out on the extreme emphasis on strength. But maybe that’s Gojo’s defence mechanism too, who knows. If Gojo had a love language, would it be fighting talk? Ha ha.

This reminds me of how Gojo was perhaps unintentionally condescending to Geto at the KFC breakup scene - it was the final nail in the coffin for Geto and he shut down completely, remarking the now infamous, “Are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest or are you the strongest because you are Gojo Satoru?” But that’s by the by I guess. It wasn’t as if Sukuna was going in for therapy / love intervention with anyone, lol. Fighting was the conversation.

So moving on, what is Sukuna’s perspective and what could it be that Gojo wanted to convey, and presumably died trying? Looking at the next fight, he is asked directly about his perspective as the strongest in history who stands above the rest.

Sukuna. The pinnacle; the epitome of strength, solitude, and one who has cast away everything - seemingly peacefully - in favour of being formidable at the top. Revered and feared in equal measure.

He is so strong yet he doesn’t need anything the others facing off with him seem to yearn. The all want to reach him for their own reasons. Maybe like disciples chasing the Buddha. What is his message? Can I understand him, and he, me? And then, ourselves?

This fight was supposedly for himself too - but what was he yearning? Gojo at first glance appears to wish to defend himself, everyone, and save megumi. Mourn Geto too. From what we understand, he's been lonely, despite this improving over the past year (through his admission to Geto later on in the airport scene).

The mark of The Strongest has been left: As soon as Gojo became strong, Geto left. Geto didn’t love him for his strength - he had to leave; in part, because feeling out of place and left behind in the a shadow of a person who is now living by “the strongest, alone” hurt, making the ills of the world unbearable, as it tipped the balance greatly for him. He could not see beyond Gojo’s apparent selfless selfishness, and he did the same with his own version of it. He had to pave his own way and build another family & world - even if it was a shell of what he had with Gojo.

But I digress. Gojo had strength but it wasn’t enough to reach Geto. He has been using his Strength as a teacher to foster a new generation, allies, in a bid to change the Jujutsu world in a different way to Geto. Yes, they shared a dream. (I hope this comes back into the picture with Geto's side fighting Sukuna too.)

He sees this curse taking shape - first with Yuji and then Megumi. I can’t imagine the outrage, and how it’s internalised by Gojo. He possibly dissociates to some degree, as one wouldn’t be able to function if they carried the weight of the world (in information and in sensation overload) all the time. He’s trained himself to be selective. So, nevertheless, there is a call to defend his title; he is also bored, wants to be a good example, and plays his part to assist with defeating Sukuna - tries to reach him but maybe it just wasn’t his message to relay. Gojo’s job was done here. He got what he wanted - a satisfying fight. More on this later.

We see the futility this far in reaching Sukuna across chapters. Responding to “love”… Harming those along the way carelessly, as he wanders simply proving his existence, as if that alone is enough to justify and bring it purpose. As a calamity or curse, he doesn’t need to consider what he is.

This is the extreme of what strength is - of what Gojo could have become. Perhaps if he wasn't so deeply touched by having someone complete him, so he could be a brat in his youth and actually trust someone to fall back on. And had he not suffered loss through Geto leaving, would've meant he never had to question himself or experience doubt or longing in his life, as he was gifted, was he not? Or was it actually a curse?

Is it meaningful to be the only one at the top of the mountain where nobody can even reach? What good does the embodiment of strength bring, if there is nobody to recognise that it is, no one to yield the power for to give it meaning, and no use for the sheer magnitude of what you can do to give it purpose?

Sukuna says he knows love and cast it away, finding it worthless, that he responds to others’ strength with love through besting them in a fight. He gets his “kicks” like Gojo did to some degree like in the theme song for Gojo by Aviccii:

(Oh, my, my) That's what I get for lovin' you

(Lie, lie, lie) You know I can't live without you

(Why, why, why?) And all the things you put me through

(Cry, cry, cry) 'Cause I'll get my kicks without you

Life must be pretty monochromatic as The Strongest. Rinse repeat until no one is left.

Following the loss of love, Gojo tried to find meaning and pass the time in ways befitting of him too. Everyone has to find a way to move on, right? But it doesn’t mean everyone feels fulfilled or healed. He drilled skills into his tempered body throughout the years of his existence; he wanted to showcase it all to Sukuna - the reason he fought and battled and trained and developed his incredible sense - his spirit that does so for himself (yes he does get kicks from it) but also for others - because Gojo is an evolved form of The Strongest. Maybe The Strongest 2.0 and Yuta is version 3.0. You get my drift.

Gojo is representing the sorcerers of the modern world. Whilst Gege likes to poke fun and say he is devoid of a personality; I’d say that isn’t it quite natural when your role in life has already been partially determined for you at birth? Further, as a “victim” of circumstance due to the setting, trauma and heavy reliance on Gojo to fulfil all sorcerer duties from a young age (esp after Geto left) can certainly leave you in a state of emotional arrested development.

To reiterate, Gojo, unlike Sukuna, DOES find meaning and purpose in his students. He wised up and found the sense in what he and Geto discussed, learning from the past and adopting certain philosophies that suited him.

But still, as the strongest, Gojo was lonely with the line drawn - as a human being (self/identity) hiding behind a living creature (of strength/facade); Gojo seemed to be saying through the blooming lotuses (flowers growing out of literal muddy waters - rich in religious and cultural sumbolism) that he loves everyone but despite that they couldn’t understand him, and him, them. This is the main interpretation that makes sense as Gojo is talking about himself, his allies (esp Megumi), even possibly Geto, but he is also talking about reaching Sukuna.

Considering the possible interpretations for who the lotuses symbolise... he less common one from my readings thus far would be Sukuna; but it kinda makes sense: Sukuna, who was born to unfavourable circumstances, and similar to Hakari who described the strong looking down at others as if they were dirt. And achieving so much like a rising from the ashes. We also see him glorified as the strongest of all time now.

And it reinforces the “unreachability” (made up a word here) and how it was an impossible task in the first place.

The message being: How can Gojo reach someone who does not want to be reached? This cycles back to what he said to Yaga when Geto left. He cannot save anyone who does not want to be saved by others.

If Sukuna was the lotus, and was a beautiful flower in strength that defied odds to bloom in the murky depths of dirt - he certainly isn’t pure as the flower symbolises, but he certainly is some kind of divinity. But I really don’t want to glorify Sukuna.

I prefer the interpretation of the lotus being Gojo or those around him, but narratively, it is simply possible he is describing several people’s parallels here with how solitude accompanies being strong. Sukuna is like the unreachable Enlightened One. Yet, he strangely doesn’t seem to have a solid sense of identity - there is no “I am the strongest” that Gojo embraces, not that this is anything to hinge one’s identity upon, as it is part of Gojo’s problem.

And yet this still brings us to what Gojo wanted to reach Sukuna with aside from a demonstration of his skills. Does Yuta have anything to add to this, as the next Gojo Satoru?

Yuta, if we can appeal to his character for parallels in messages, and if we can consider him The Strongest 3.0 asked Uro - don’t you have a lover or friends? Implying that if one fights so desperately for their own sake, it reaches a dead end fairly quickly. Just WHO are you fighting for, and doesn’t fighting for yourself get a little old after decades?

Even Toji (without his soul when ressurected) instinctively ended his rampage at the sight of what his reason for living was, his son, albeit he cared for Megumi in a very dodgy roundabout way, fearing his closeness would ruin / stain his son. I’m reminded here of how Geto’s body reacted to Gojo’s voice; momentarily seizing Kenjaku by the throat.

Somehow the bond between Gojo and Geto is marking its significance again, isn’t it? They all had reasons they fought for, and through the many evidences of these, we are allowed insight into recurring ones that may hold more significance than others. You know, like: my students are watching, let’s schedule it on the 24th of December.

These are important things to gojo, he is also showing Sukuna what he doesn’t have. He didn’t need to live like a cursed object for decades, etc and his significance doesn’t die when he does. Yes, a big part of Gojo had craved this “all out” but as he lives his life and engages in the battle, all the pieces of WHY, WHO, and WHAT he is wielding power for start to surface.

As the reader we are finding these Easter eggs along with him, because the narrator and Gojo don’t disclose this openly. Gojo has people modelling this for him throughout his short life, and he seems to be quick on the uptake, despite preaching about strength. Maybe he isn’t terribly aware, but he knows more than he lets on - Gojo had a persona.

We probably can say the same about the “I’d win” scene that pretty much foreshadowed his defeat. That kind of a Champion enters the ring without fighting talk?

The scene depicting him reflecting upon his first ever defeat showed him to be chasing a “high” of satisfaction from going all out and fulfilling the itch of Boredom and Loneliness that plagues the unimaginably strong. Pursuing and honing his skill, getting stronger and stronger, drew him further and further away from anything meaningful - ending up in a state where he never really gets the satisfying release he craves.

Like a runner who is only allowed to run at 5kmph for a short distance; an artist who isn’t able to paint their desired masterpiece; a singer whose voice can only whispered to an audience; the strongest weightlifter who can only utilise 20% of his max strength... How terribly dissatisfying.

How stifling it is to have such a limitation. And yes, his skill is limitless. How ironic indeed - the repression, the impotence strength imposes.

And while we are on skill/technique names, others have pointed out before - unlimited void? What a perfect description of what felt meaninglessness / existential emptiness is.

The underside of this however was how it also alluded to the possibility that he was going to experience another enlightenment - but of a final kind of his physical form. It implies he was tired from his isolation or that there was at least no remedy for it, and therefore his present sense of fulfilment was to engage in battle and enjoy it - although he recognised signs of defeat - it would be satisfying as he could go all out or die trying.

It would fulfill the purpose of his existence as The Strongest contender anyway. He, could be the victor, or the pawn, who plays his part in the universe. His reigning time as the champion needed to be defended with dignity anyway. It reminds me of his conversation with Megumi about death and being selfish.

I mean, that's just imbued with meaning there. A whole post needs to be dedicated to It, and I'm not the subject matter expert by a long mile. Gojo’s bottom line was that strength did define him; he was born with it.

Watching Megumi possibly minimise his worth and clip his wings without pursuing / living up to his potential may be a waste, as a person who inherited the skills that took their ancestors down. However, the selfish path may not be for everyone.

Other writers’ meta I’ve read seem to touch on this too - that Gojo unwittingly became a form of the old Jujutsu world himself due to being a product of it himself, but he did do his best by his students to inspire change. This, to me, speaks volumes about him entrusting them to live out their paths upon his passing - what could he do in death, anyway? He taught them the importance of accountability and his own version of the truth - that power and strength - living to your potential is certainly one way of living, and they can expect to die alone, so make the most of their youth!

We witnessed Gojo making preparations for the match, following setting the date on 24th December. How romantic of Geto, to try and either seek Rika in jjk 0 or die to Gojo’s hand - and then now, Gojo, who may mourn Geto again, or die trying on the same day. It begs the question: was he also secretly at peace with the possibility of dying to Sukuna? At not being the strongest? It seems that him being a pragmatist (or “resignation man” as Gege apparently once put it) he would find some peace, especially since he was Geto in the afterlife and could see that his soul wasn’t trapped in his physical body or something - their corpses could be left to the living and Shoko, which seems to be the faithful stance they both take in trusting the living to “carry on” their respective teachings.

Nevertheless, Gojo is trying to reach Megumi here. But as the incredibly gifted, talented, and strongest - albeit as cursed as it is to be afflicted with it all, Gojo may not empathise with the struggles of the weaker. It is reminiscent of how he approaches the battle with Sukuna in the first place. He was challenged and he accepted.

A sport. That's not to say he lost sight of the bigger picture - we saw Gojo making preparations for a possible reality where he does not return.

Unfortunately, his skills also lend towards fighting alone, unless they were back-to-back with him. (I still hold onto the belief he and Geto could be a dynamic duo). Which Sukuna also used against him in their match in order to not get hit. Gojo has never learnt what it would be like to fight with others and it's old-fashioned egoist rules about matches when viewing it as a sport rather than of survival. But, Gojo had changed enough to feel he could reach Sukuna and had desired to impart something - maybe to have significance or be regarded by an equal - once again - for this would be of utmost satisfaction for him to receive.

He had learnt a whole lot about things in his short life. He did well. In a final battle of 3 vs 1? Against Sukuna in the body of Megumi and the 10 shadows that his ancestors had died to? That’s already unprecedented. But strength aside, Gojo had reached many people and it’s time for him to pass on the baton and be where he wants to be, in the version of himself where he is the happiest.

Gojo admits to being wrong about dying alone, further listening to how Nanami and Haibara reflected on the former's death betting on the future seemed to solidify some kind of understanding for him.

That he didn’t have regrets either. He, too, fought for a purpose beyond seeing satisfaction of being strong; it just became evident as it surfaced to his awareness. With his six eyes, he couldn’t see everything. With limitless, he couldn’t reach it all either. Even if you have everything, you can’t do anything. It is not enough to just be strong. And Gojo wasn’t just strong in the end.

He may or may not have reached Sukuna, but maybe, just maybe, in being wrong about dying alone, the necessity for everyone to be both selfless and selfish, was enough for Gojo. To reach and arrive at: Acceptance.

Seems pretty good to me, to be at peace.

—

“The absolute strongest, the loneliness that follows, the one who will teach you about love is... “

Yorozu’s haunting words.

Gojo is not the strongest anymore

Gojo didn’t feel lonely anymore

The one who will teach has taught him about love is...

You, Geto Suguru. It started with you, and it ends with you.

—

Yes, sound the alarm! It's satosugu brainrot headcanon.

Gojo seems to be saying, and I’ll phrase this as if he were speaking to Geto in his mind’s voice:

Yes, I was undeniably the strongest; until I wasn't. It was a fun fight. My students are my legacy; I trust them to take it from here too. They know they have the permission to be selfish. I trust that they have their own wisdom to know the difference; it is up to them now. I did my best to change the world that let us down in our youth; and fostered and shielded those under my care as best as I could with what I had. I think they had some good memories; I sought to give them a flavour of what we had, preserving the treasure that it was for us. I was never the teacher type, but I wanted to do something and clung onto a dream you and I shared.

I responded to others who loved me and surrounded me for my strength (living creature); but for me as a human, I am undeniably greedy and longed, pined for you (the only one who saw me: Satoru). You held the space as my one and only. I let you go back then in Shinjuku, and couldn’t let your body go when you died, and you came back as a puppet... I didn’t get to mourn you, but here we are: dying on the same date a year apart. Others still don’t quite get me (like Nanami and Haibara) but they understand the creature that is a part of me. They accept me; in itself, it’s enough, for a part of it is true.

As for the rest of me: you complete me with your understanding of me; parts of me that I don’t see or have forgotten. Just as unchanging as it was before, I’ve only ever needed you to satisfy me (and ease my solitude) ; no matter who filled the space around me, your absence spoke the loudest, because your presence alone would have been the most profound - I’d have felt satisfied / complete.

And yes, I am 100% romanticising here. Unashamedly!

—

A more pragmatic take would be:

He could be quite simply implying that he carried a guilt for the longest time and the one thing he couldn't achieve was to bring his best friend back home to Jujutsu High. I mean I adore Teacher AU and I'm totally open to this more shonen interpretation too.

The finale was as he entered the other land, in a dreamlike state, he sees Geto, remembers he’s tasked Shoko to tell Megumi, demonstrating he has infinite faith in the next generation to survive, and it’s sufficient, it seems, to have a death without regret.

We see Sukuna offering recognition of his skill and existence after he is slashed, laying on the floor, as it begins to snow. A small smirk appears that seems to also mirror the same on his expression in the cover of volume 26. Satisfaction. Gojo might’ve been a worthy opponent and reached Sukuna in that regard after all; maybe love was not his lesson to teach Sukuna. He has died a noble death befitting of a warrior to be surrounded by camellias.

Gojo Satoru passes onto the afterlife and heads south.

—

It’s controversial somehow; it is both enough, and leaves me wanting more. Here’s to hoping it’s not the last of Gojo (or Geto).

Maybe I did just want to dream a little. Thanks for reading if you made it this far. My tapestries tend to get quite complicated, and I wouldn’t blame anyone if they bailed!

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing-Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+, MDNI,NSFW, Angst, Fluff, Hurt,Comfort, Eventual smut, MMF dynamics, a lot of music references, best friends loving each other.

WK-5.2K

A/N- Santi puts his investigation skills to use and maybe a little of his personal agenda.

I really appreciate all the love and feedback I’ve been getting on this story so please keep it coming. 🤍

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter III

Santiago set out for the long haul, despite Frankie telling him Dave’s lead was just a few hours away. He had a bag packed for several days and the gas tank was full. Much to his surprise a short amount of time later he parks down the street from Dave on the streets of downtown Naples. 

  Ninety minutes

  He watches Dave enter a sandwich shop briefly and exit with a large white bag. Santi’s car is inconspicuous enough but he stays a safe distance just in case. Men in Dave’s line of work aren’t going to be easily followed, unless they are distracted of course. 

  In Santi’s case it seems he’s distracted enough to not have noticed him tailing him for the better part of two hours. 

  He hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary but there’s this uneasy feeling building in his gut telling Santiago this isn’t just a coincidence. 

  Each move he made was thought out and deliberate…not more than five minutes from the sandwich spot he’s parked in front of some storefront shops. He passes a clothing boutique, plant shop and a tourist spot before he enters what looks like a music store. 

  There’s a painting in the window and a plant wall obstructing his view. Even with binoculars Santi can only make out Dave’s profile as he stands at the front counter. His body language and movements are telling of a man flirting. Any man would know without military training what it looks like when you’re nervous and trying to impress someone. 

  ****

  You really did love Mrs. Carlson…she kept you company on boring days, talking about music from her younger days. You would sit and listen to all her favorites in the back while she reminisced and told you stories about her wilder times. 

  She always had to preface the story by telling you it was before she met Mr. Carlson. They moved here several years ago to escape the cold and live out their golden years. They were the kind of soulmates that gave you hope. 

  You really did love her….

  Right now you would love it if she wrapped up her fifth telling of the first time she heard the righteous brothers at the drive in movie theater…Dave should be here soon and you want to close up the shop for lunch. 

  The front door chimes just as she gets to the part about her date getting too handsy. 

  “Be right there.” You call out towards the door as she reaches out for you to help her from the chair.

  “Thanks for listening to my rambling dear, you make this old lady very happy.” She places her record in the sleeve and slides it into her large purse. 

  “You’re not that old Mrs. Carlson.” You smile at her and she laughs. 

  She reminded you so much of your grandmother. The sweetest person in the world but won’t take any of your shit. Your dad always said you were so much like her. 

  “Don’t lie to me dear, that’s my husband's job.” You wrap your arm in hers as you both make your way towards the front of the store. 

  He’s standing there in a polo and jeans, a white paper bag in his hands that he’s clutching for dear life. It’s adorable to see him so nervous and you feel a light squeeze to your arm as you approach him. 

  “He brought food, that’s a good sign.” She whispers to you as you let her arm go. 

  Dave notices her and rushes to open the door. 

  “A gentleman too.” She winks at you and exits as he turns to you with a curious look on his face. 

  “She’s here almost as much as you.” You reach for the bag as he holds it behind his back. 

  “Oh…jokes at my expense.” You shake your head as you step into his space. 

  He doesn’t back away from you as you reach around tracing your fingers down his arm, you’re becoming addicted to the way he smells, the way he can’t look anywhere but at you. He’s thoroughly distracted as you extricate the package from his hands and peak inside. 

  “No jokes…just sandwiches from my favorite place.” 

  He smiles wide at that, the way you dip your nose into the bag and make the most intoxicating noise. 

  “Lucky guess.” 

  You crinkle the bag and hand it back to him, stepping out of the dangerous bubble that is Dave’s presence. 

  “If you got turkey with everything then you might just be the luckiest man alive.” 

  He thinks at this moment he may very well be. 

  ****

  It was a short walk to lowdermilk park, your suggestion to enjoy your lunch on this beautiful sunny day. Thankfully it wasn’t too humid so you didn’t have to explain your excessive sweating to Dave. Although you may have been sweating for entirely different reasons when you’re in his presence. 

  He listens intently as you point out some of your favorite shops on your walk, he enjoys hearing you tell him little bits and pieces about your daily life. 

The way your eyes crinkle when you smile or how you wave your arms when you get particularly excited about something. 

  You seem too distracted to notice how he looks over his shoulder every so often. He’s unable to kick that nagging feeling like he’s being watched. 

  It’s a picture perfect setting as you approach the park. Couples stroll along the water's edge hand in hand, while the children build sandcastles and chase the foamy remnants of the retreating waves. 

  “Oh perfect.” You skip over to a bench facing the water and kick off your sandals. “I love this spot because it’s half way in the park, but I can still put my feet in the sand.” 

  He smiles as he sits across from you and lays out the contents of the bag. You quickly reach for the jalapeño chips and he smirks knowing he’s checking all the silent boxes. 

  “These are my favorite.” 

  “Well then I’m two for two.” You offer him the bag to share and it’s something he’s gathered about you. You’re a giver and Dave is a taker. Right now he’s taking moments with you meant for someone else. 

  Something brushes his foot under the table and he peaks under to see the small mound of sand you’ve dug in. 

  “Those aren’t really beach friendly shoes Dave.” You grin at him playfully as you dive into your sandwich. 

  “I wasn’t planning on going to the beach today.” 

  Your laugh seeps deep into his chest. As bright as the sun shining on you both. 

  “Last time I checked, you came to Florida.” You wipe the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “The state of endless beaches.”

  “Last time I checked it’s called the sunshine state.” You note the teasing tone in his voice. 

  You try not to let your mind rob you of this perfect moment. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself the chance to be happy. 

  “Sorry, I was just joking.” He grimaces a little as he sees your face drop momentarily. 

  “No,no it’s not you.” You wave him off as you finish your sandwich. “Can’t let the intrusive thoughts win.” 

  He huffs at that, most of his life consisted of letting those intrusive thoughts in. Except he’s noticed when he’s with you. The thoughts aren’t as frequent. 

  Your phone buzzes on the table and you briefly glance at the screen to see a message from Alicia, but more importantly the time. He sees that look on your face again as your eyes meet his. 

  “I should be getting back soon.” You can’t believe how quickly an hour goes by when you’re with him. You hate to end your date so soon but you don’t feel like explaining to your boss why you took a long lunch.He couldn’t be bothered to stop by but still calls regularly to keep tabs on you.

  “Let’s get you back before we have a riot outside the store.” Your laugh is disarming in a way he never expected as he bags up the trash for the both of you. 

  He studies you carefully as you gently brush the sand of your feet and place your shoes on. The powder blue blouse falls open slightly and he doesn’t look away as fast as he should. 

  When you look up at him momentarily catching the way he’s looking at you, you’re grateful Alicia let you borrow her top. 

  He should be embarrassed for acting like a horny teenager but the way you smile at him when he’s clearly been caught checking you out says maybe he could get away with a little more. 

  When you happily accept his extended hand it’s all but confirmed that this is something he could get used to. It’s nearly perfect the  way your soft hand fits perfectly into the grasp of his and you lean in a little when you begin your walk back to the store. 

  You can tell he deliberately matches your strides, a subtle way of saying I don’t want to rush you…take your time. It’s a comfortable silence as you walk hand in hand. Only the sound of  crunching sand on the gravel and the light breeze rustling the palm trees. If you hadn’t started this playful banter with him from the beginning you’d diminish under his intense gaze. 

  There’s a fondness growing between you that you won’t soon be able to detach from. Yet you still know next to nothing about him. You file that away for tomorrow's problems. Right now you want to enjoy the rest of one of the best hours you’ve had in months without Alicia. 

  You’re relieved as you approach the store that no one is waiting outside to burst your bubble. 

  You’re waiting for him to say something as you unlock the front door and turn on the neon open sign. He follows behind you quietly like a lost puppy unsure of his next move. 

  You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet, a nervous habit you couldn’t kick for the life of you. “Well…I had a nice time on our lunch date.” The odd look on his face as soon as the word leaves your mouth has you instantly regretting putting a label on it. He brought you a sandwich for god sake. 

  “Date huh.” It’s meant to come off much more lighthearted than he says and by the bewildered look on your face he definitely said the wrong thing. “I would love to take you on a proper date. If that’s alright with you?” 

  Relief washes over you and before you have a moment to process he’s leaning in, crowding your space but you don’t mind. His hand cups your jaw with just the right amount of pressure as he tilts your face up and kisses you on the cheek. Tease. Your first thought but then again, what a gentleman. 

  “Since it’s our first date.” He winks at you as he stands to his full height. “I’m not usually so modest but I thought I’d spare you the onions from my lunch.” 

  Perhaps you were a little desperate but you would take the onions and whatever else he wanted to offer at this point but you don’t want to push. Second date. 

  “So I’ll text you or call, so we can plan our proper date.” 

  “Whatever you want, hummingbird.” 

  You miss the warmth of his hand on your chin, like he’s branded you. You’re momentarily stuck as he exits…the buzzing in your pocket brings you back to life and you remember you need to text your best friend. 

  ****

Santiago was starting to feel a little crazy. 

  About as crazy as he felt dragging all of his friends to the jungle and stealing from a drug lord. 

  He had dated plenty of women on the job, so he’s not sure what he’s looking for as he watches Dave from afar on a seemingly harmless lunch. 

  It’s obvious by your body language that you’re attracted to him. Dave’s a lucky man. You’re strikingly beautiful. He can't really blame the guy for taking a break to spend some time with you. 

  But there it is again, that persistent beast that lives dormant in his chest. Something is off. Frankie or rather himself isn’t paying Dave to go on dates. Frankie had said it was bad news about any leads on his soulmate and by the looks of it, Dave’s not in any hurry to sniff out anymore. 

  Once this is all said and done Santiago thinks he’ll need to find a healthy hobby. He’s spent years treating every aspect of his life like a recon mission and it’s becoming exhausting. It’s probably for the best that he wasn't going to have the opportunity or subject his soulmate to his obsessive compulsive behavior. 

  He has to see this through for his friend and then maybe he’ll start to work on his own love life 

  He watches briefly as Dave exits the quaint record store where you presumably worked before he decides he’s going to go in. He has no idea what he’s looking for or what compels him to do so but he’s locking the car door and moving down the street before his brain has a chance to catch up to his feet. 

  It’s risky

  Dave could come back at any moment and see him. 

He doesn’t have an explanation as to why he would be here. Right now it doesn’t matter. 

  ****

  The door chimes before you have a chance to text Alicia. You quickly shove your phone in your back pocket and when you meet eyes with the man who enters the store, you’re certain you stop breathing. 

  Your mouth hangs agape and he chuckles lowly at you as he scrubs his hand behind his neck nervously. 

  You manage something close enough to a greeting as you take in his appearance. He’s chiseled to say the least, tan skin and well kept salt and pepper curls. The way he smiles at you is practiced, he’s used to people looking at him this way and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. 

  “Hi, I’m Santiago.” He confidently steps into your space and holds his hand out to you. 

  Most customers who weren’t regulars came and went without so much as a polite nod your way, definitely not on a first name basis. You weren’t about to pass up an opportunity for an introduction with this handsome stranger as you sheepishly extended your hand and gave him your name. 

  His eyes drop briefly from your face and you think he may go for a look in your revealing blouse, but they travel further to where your hands are joined. His grip is strong but not forceful as it tightens slightly. The look he gives you when your hands drop is more one of amazement than flirtation. 

  “So…what brings you into the store? Looking for anything in particular?” He notices the shift in your voice. The way it perks up at the prospect of getting a peek into his brain. 

  Music can say a lot about a person. 

  “Metallica.” He says assuredly and you chuckle as you wave him over to the section for heavy metal. 

  “Something funny, cariño?” The playfulness in his tone, nearly mirroring your first interaction with Dave. 

  “Oh it’s nothing, I’m just oddly not surprised by your choice.” You say it so matter of fact. Like you’ve already got him figured out. 

  “Should I be offended?” He scoffs as he tries to keep his eyes on the back of your head and not your body. He absolutely can not be checking out his friend's soulmate. He noticed the tattoo almost immediately when he shook your hand. 

  “That’s entirely up to you sweetheart.” You wink at him over your shoulder as you stop in front of a large row of records. The middle of the stack is not marked as you lean forward confidently and thumb through a few before sliding one out of the row. 

  He smiles as you mutter something to yourself and stare at the front like a precious work of art you’re admiring. 

  “I have a feeling you’re going to love this one.” You hand it to him gently. “That is if you really like them for —.”

  “Holy shit.” You watch his eyes light up as he starts laughing in disbelief. He has to take a step back as if that’s going to bring it into focus. You love this reaction. It’s why you do this and spend countless hours listening and researching. 

  “How do you have a special edition master of puppets for…thirty dollars?!” His voice is nearly a shout at the end and you can’t help but burst into laughter at his utter shock. 

  “It’s my specialty. I spend a lot of time finding affordable vinyls so that everyone can enjoy them. A lot of people don’t realize what they have and they end up just giving things easy for free.” You wave your hands as you explain your passion and he can clearly see why Dave has tripped and bumped his head. “So anyway…that’s where I come in. So people like you and I can experience the finer things.” 

  The most ironic part of your statement is you have no idea what Santiago can afford. Now he can afford a lot more and if he really wanted this he could’ve bought it at the real price. You don’t need to know that. Old habits die hard and Santiago has a hard time spoiling himself knowing what it cost to get that money. So to him…this is a prize. A glimpse into his old life and the old version of him would’ve bought this in a heartbeat.

  “I’ll take it.” You let out an excited squeak and he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his face. 

  “Do you want to listen to it? We have a player in the back of the store and a place to relax.” He should say no. He glances nervously behind him and meets your cheerful expression again. 

  “Lead the way cariño.” 

  You bounce toward the back and then remember yourself and the flimsy top and opt to walk briskly. He’s keeping pace with you as you approach the little nook. 

  He sets the record on the small gold holder next to the zenith. You both reach for the dust cover and he levels you with a look of ‘let me’. You step back with your arms crossed signaling you’ll let him for now.

  He slides the shiny gold record out of its sleeve. Holding it delicately at the edges. He places it calmly on the turntable as he lets out a small puff of air. 

  He flips the switch on the top and the light signals as his hands admire the framework. The light humm in the speakers starts as he lifts the tone arm to the vinyl and carefully places the stylus on the end. 

  The menacing sound of the electric guitar plays slowly through the small speakers. Followed promptly by the sound of the front door chiming. 

  He doesn’t see you turn as you both curse under your breath. 

  This is it. He would have to confront Dave about why he lied and this is not at all how he wants you to find out about Frankie. He rolls his shoulders back as the music escalates into the frenzied uptempo crusher that he knows it to be. 

  When he turns around he curses for an entirely different reason as he’s met with the enraged look of a tall, dark haired brunette stomping towards you both down the aisle. 

  You’ve already succumbed to defeat as you raise your hands in apology. Things just kept happening and you forgot to text your best friend to let her know you were still alive. 

  “I’m so sorry Alicia—.” She cuts you off with her hand in the air. 

  “Save it.” She slaps her hands down to her jeans as she bends over attempting to catch her breath. 

  Alicia, Alicia, Alicia. 

  Santiago repeats the name until it’s etched into his skull. He can hardly hear the bass of the music over the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. 

  Alicia looks up when the burning in her chest subsides from running more in the least twenty minutes then she has in all her life. She had come in with such a blind rage and concern that she hardly noticed the Adonis standing next to you looking at her like a deer in headlights.  

  She stands to her full height once again, smirking at him as he swallows thick. 

  “Hey handsome, can I borrow my friend for a moment?” Her voice drops to a sultry tone and Santiago just nods as she wraps her arms around you and guides you away.

  His hands find the silver knob on the player just as the song ends to turn it down slightly before it picks up again. 

  “What’s our rule?” She can’t hide the quiver in her voice, now that she’s not on display. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are filled with worry. You hated that you worried her so much while your head was in the clouds. 

  “Always check in—.”

  “Always. check. in.” She shakes your shoulders with each punctuation as her lips turn up into a smile. You’re laughing with her now as she pulls you into a hug. “Dibs on the hot piece of ass.” She whispers into your ear before letting you go. 

  “He’s all yours.” 

  She excitedly grabs your hand and leads you back to the record player. 

  He’s standing facing it, with his arms crossed. The black shirt pulling taught along his muscular back as he seems lost in the lyrics. 

  Master of puppets I’m pulling your strings

Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams

  “You break it, you buy it.” She leans in close to him but he doesn’t flinch. Letting her words drip down his spine like honey on tree bark. 

  “He already promised me he’d buy it.” You say as you plop down on the small tufted chair to watch the mating game. 

  “Smart man.” She picks up the cover and inspects it as she whistles. “You’re getting a great deal.” 

  “Oh I’m aware sweetheart.” He winks at you as he places his hands confidently on his hips. 

  You wish you had some popcorn right now for the front row seat to this show. She flips her hair over her shoulder and his jaw ticks trying to keep his eyes on her face. He has to look up at her with him being nearly eye level with her chest. You have to give it to him. He's doing pretty well. 

  “I should buy this for you.” She bumps his hip out of the way as she lifts the arm to stop the record. It’s not often Santiago ceded control and right now he’s willing to let this play out. “I didn’t mean to be so dramatic. I just had to make sure my friend wasn’t Murdered on her lunch break by her date.” She looks over at you and sticks out her tongue as you mirror her actions. 

  Santiago’s throat goes dry at the word. Date. 

  He doesn’t have time to unpack that so he recovers quickly before she notices the color draining from his face. 

  “I take it you’re not one to argue with.” 

  “Wow, he learns quickly.” She slides the record into the sleeve and places it lightly against his chest. 

  He stops her before she can pull her hands away. “I’ll let you buy this for me if you let me buy you dinner.” 

  Wow she’s good, that must be some kind of record. 

  “Consider it done, mystery man.” 

  “Santiago.” You chime in from the chair as you lean back and smile at them. They both turn to you seemingly haven forgotten your existence for the few brief moments they shamelessly flirted. 

  “Well Santiago I’m—.”

  “Alicia.” He huffs in satisfaction as she pulls out her phone and hands it to him. 

  The door chimes and you see two younger women enter. You slink out of the chair and head to the front to give them some space. You throw a thumbs up over her shoulder at him and you see the way the corner of his mouth turns up as he enters his digits into her phone. 

  ****

  Santiago thumps his head against the steering wheel hoping the mindless drumming will bring him some clarity. 

  He needs to tell Frankie about you. He needs to talk to Dave. He needs to plan a date for the girl of his dreams. He really needs to get his priorities in check with this whole situation. One step at a time. 

  He decides first to text Alicia to plan something before she loses interest. He’s never felt such an instant connection with someone and he doesn’t want this opportunity to pass him by. It’s pretty selfish of him considering the circumstances of which he met her but Frankie doesn’t need to know that. Yet. 

  ****

  You helped a few more customers after Santiago left with the widest grin on his face you’re ever seen. 

  Alicia hadn’t emerged from the back of the store until the last person left. She strolled down the aisle with a giddy look on her face as she typed away feverishly at her phone. 

  “You were worried about me being murdered and you agreed to go on a date before you even knew his name.” She finally looks up at you from her phone as you raise your eyebrows at her. 

   She points her finger at you before hopping up onto the counter. “Do as I say, not as I do.” 

  You rest your chin on her shoulder as you both stare out the window. “I don’t think I can take that advice right now.” You sigh dramatically into her ear. “I really like him.” 

  “You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing.” She pauses to let you continue even though she knows what’s going through your head. “Listen babe…not every guy who isn't your soulmate is gonna be like Nate.” 

  Nathan. The man you fell in love with. The reason you decided to move across the country after he decided he’d had enough. As much as you tried to convince him that it didn’t matter, the seed had already planted itself deep in his thoughts. Each time a new tattoo emerged on your body it was like salt in the wound. 

  He would ignore you for days, treat you like a stranger in your own home. For reasons you had no control over. No amount of love bombing or gifts, endless reassurance that you were devoted to him could convince him that you were his. 

  When he broke it off with you and told you to leave you were gutted. Your step mom refused to let you move in with her and your father. It drove an even bigger wedge between you and your already fractured relationship. 

  It took many late nights with Alicia after you moved in and a multitude of therapy sessions for you to realize that he was not the one. Someone who treated your body and your mind like a careless possession was not someone to behold. 

  A small tear rolls down your cheek and lands quietly on her shoulder. She turns to you and sighs as she cups your face in her hands. “You know what’s different about this time?” She asked as her thumb wiped away another stray tear. You shook your head instead of speaking unsure if your voice would betray you. “You have me, and I won’t let anything like that happen to you again.” 

  She held out her pinky as you chuckled. Wiping the rest of your red face before anyone else came in. No matter the outcome you are ready to put your heart out there again. Any person to cross you should think twice, Alicia was never one to break a promise. 

  ****

  “Cálmate hermano.” Santi bristles at the look Frankie gives him as he watches the man pace in his living room. 

  “You can’t seriously be telling me to calm down.” His face is beet red and the muscles strain in his neck as he tries to keep his voice level. Tensions have been high to say the least. Santiago hasn’t looked this nervous since he asked the boys to help him go back for the money. 

  Frankie already knew that look in his eyes when he pulled up to his house unannounced. He was however not prepared for the emotional roller coaster of a conversation that Pope had prepared for him. 

  They’re relationship over the last decade or so has been complicated to put it bluntly. Despite their ups and downs they always managed to make it back to each other. Frankie always said Pope might as well have been his soulmate because he could never get rid of him. At his core Santi always had his friends best interests at heart, even though his way of going about things usually resulted in some form of chaos. Maybe it was the universe or just his pure dumb luck but the handsome bastard always stepped in shit and came out smelling like roses. 

  Right now as Frankie leans against his kitchen island with his hands bound in fists he’s starting to think Santi’s luck may have run out. 

  His fingers are itching in his palms and the sweat trickles down his back. He can almost taste the metallic remnants of what he used to do in situations like this. 

  Santi is reticent at the moment and as mad as Frankie is at him he’s reluctant to leave. He knows Frankie’s addiction was of his own doing but he can’t help but feel guilty about running away whenever things got complicated. Will and Ben had each other, and Santiago selfishly let Frankie go through all the fallout alone while he absconded off to some beach on the other side of the world. 

  His friend was a shell of himself when he returned and he vowed to never let him go through that alone again. 

  So now he waits for either Frankie to speak or strangle him. Whichever way he’ll deal with the outcome because it’s what he deserves. 

  “You’re gonna take me there.” Santi opens his mouth to speak but Frankie holds his hand up. “I need you to watch my back, in case that asshole shows up. I’m going to tell her everything and even if she doesn’t want me, she needs to know the truth.” 

  Frankie may have had his issues but he was virtuous and despite it all, Santiago respects him for it. It’s why he quickly agrees to whatever he wants. 

  Once Frankie has calmed down a bit he starts asking questions about you. They chat over beers and Santiago answers as much as he can about your short interaction. He can hear the optimism in his voice, hanging onto every word. 

  Santi tries not to give him too many descriptors. He wants Frankie to have something from all this. He won’t take away the thing he’s been wanting for years. That moment when he finally gets to meet you. To know that you’re real in the flesh. 

  “Ugh…I forgot to mention one thing Fish.” Frankie grumbles as he sets his empty bottle on the coffee table. “I might have a date with her best friend.” 

  “You’ve got to be kidding me Pope.” 

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[worldsaparted]

hello !!! could you write something with kk1-era daniel larusso where the reader has had a bad day and he drags her out of the house to go get ice cream and cheer her up? :)

thank you for requesting, this is such a cute one! :)

10 Calls - Daniel LaRusso

Christmas has just passed, Daniel LaRusso just gained his title as all valley champion, and everything was great - for a small bit.

On the contrary, Y/n L/n couldn’t have thought of a worse way to spend her Christmas. Her parents were away and she’d spent the day with her grandparents who never failed to make her feel bad about herself, after that dinner last night Y/n was stuck in her room, small tear stains at the corner of her eye.

It was stupid to cry, that’s what she told herself but nothing sucked more than missing your family, but not knowing why. Missing them even though they don’t make you feel any good when they’re here. The absence of her parents caused her to believe they were loving people and how - as she gave herself a reality check, she tucked herself under the covers, reading her comfort back with small sniffles.

As for Daniel LaRusso, he was worried. He’d called Y/n a number of times yesterday, and 10 times today. 10 calls, and she hadn’t answered one. As he pulled to a stop in front of her house, he took a deep breath - taking notice to the cars filling the driveway.

He figured family was still over from Christmas yesterday, and once he glanced up to her window, he watched as she strolled past her window, wiping her eyes. And with that, he sighed, he exited his car - and rushed to his usual spot, climbing up to her window.

Making it to her window, he knocked their secret knock - fixing his grey jacket and hopping she’d answer. At the sight of Daniel, Y/n’s eyes widened and she looked around her room before rushing to shut her door.

She was quick to open the window, allowing him in - and the first thing Daniel said after climbing in was, “You finally answered.”

She did feel bad for not answering his calls, and she wished she answered to tell him she wasn’t in the mood to talk, but she didn’t. So she figured she should do that now. “Look Daniel, I’m not really in the mood for any company.”

She glanced around her room, and he did the same, flashing a smile - awkward yet charming. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to crash.” He prefaced.

A look of relief flashed over her face, and studying her clothing, Daniel noticed she’d already been out earlier today, wearing her usual grey long sleeve tucked into her foldover jeans.

“Let’s go.” His comment was blunt, and quick. Daniel chucked his head to the window as he grabbed onto his girlfriend’s hand, and she tugged back.

“What?” Pulling back, Y/n looked to her window, and then to Daniel.

“Let’s go.” Daniel hoped so strongly that she’d give in, and her eyes nervously met his - shaking her head.

“Not even for Christmas?” Daniel teased, his voice soft and at the sight of a small smile cracking from his girlfriend, he nearly melted. Finally. “There she is.” He tugged her softly and finally, she followed him through the window, shaking her head as he held her waist, helping her climb down.

“I can’t believe you do this all the time.” She spoke under her breath, clearly terrified and Daniel laughed, his breaths brushing against her ear.

“You love it.” His sly comment caused her to sigh, shaking her head and while she wasn’t completely okay again - it seemed as if she was easing up, and he’d take it.

Once they made it down, they rushed to his car, Daniel opened her door and let her in before taking his seat behind the wheel. Seeing as Y/n wasn’t feeling all the great right now despite the small laugh back at her house, Daniel kept it quiet. He’d give her a car ride of silence, not because he didn’t want to talk, because he knew she loved these types of car rides when she was sad, music only, no interruptions.

Though when they pulled into the parking lot of a nearly empty ice cream parlor, Y/n turned the music down, looking over at Daniel and before she could say anything, he left the car, making his way to open her door and once he did, she got out, softly shutting the door behind her.

They had left Encino. This ice cream parlor wasn’t as fancy as the usual kind she went to in her neighborhood, Daniel knew that - but this one, it was rich in everything else. His mom brought him here every night he’d freak out about not having a place in Reseda, and it almost always helped.

He led her inside, and it was cold but not as cold as outside so that was still a win. The many ice cream flavors on display made him smiled, and he playfully gestured to them all - sending a dorky smile to Y/n. “C’mon. My treat.”

Studying the flavors, Y/n cracked another smirk as she glanced up to him - he seemed to already have his order ready and at the feeling of her gaze on him, Daniel turned, his hands in his pocket.

“Ready?”

Daniel ordered the ice cream for them both, and he carried the two cones back to the bench Y/n sat on outside, staring down at her hands that fiddled with her sweater.

“Strawberry for you, pretty.”

Daniel was incredibly great at switching her moods around and he was in the process of doing that once again.

He made sure to sit close to her, and Y/n was thankful he did. She leaned her head against him, silently eating her ice cream and it wasn’t until Daniel spoke up that she moved off, looking up at him.

“How was Christmas?” His voice was hoarse now, and when Y/n’s eyes met his, he already knew the answer.

“The same.” She shrugged, and he could tell she didn’t want to talk about anything home related, so he instead offered her some of his own ice cream.

Nodding, Y/n leaned forward to taste it but was instead pleasantly surprised when Daniel playfully pushed his ice cream into her, getting a small amount on the corner of her lip.

Her eyes widened and Daniel laughed at the sight of it, “You suck.” Y/n cracked a smile, and it grew once she gave Daniel a taste of his own medicine, pushing his ice cream against him. He groaned, quickly wiping it off and before Y/n could do anything, he placed his lips against the corner of her mouth, cleaning it all for her.

Her cheeks burned and she nervously watched him as he pulled back, his eyes soft and a small gulp coming from his mouth. Despite the fact that they’d been dating for some time, they still made one another nervous.

A laugh escaped from Y/n’s lips as her eyes travelled from his eyes to his lips continuously, and Daniel chuckled, and he took it to himself to kiss her softly once again. His kiss was tender, and gentle. His free hand held hers as their lips met, and he squeezed it once. He smiled into the kiss and then pulled away softly and slowly, his smile big and his eyes gazing down at her.

“I love you, you know that?” His hand now comforted her, rubbing her knee. At this point in time, he was so close to throwing away his ice cream to use his other hand, but he didn’t.

Y/n smiled a warm smile because no one made her feel as loved as Daniel did. Her heart raced at his words and suddenly she forgot about every problem back at home. “I do.” She answered, her voice soft and Daniel’s eyes softened once he heard her. “I love you too.” She ran a hand through his hair, and it wasn’t long until he kissed her again, his mouth parted until his lips curved into another smile against her lips, sighing in pleasure.

They barely paid any attention to their ice creams that night, but when they did - they shared. Daniel took Y/n home and when she begged him to stay, he “accidentally” slept over, his hands all wrapped around her, and his lips against her neck as he slept.