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heavensenteden · 3 months ago

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✎ caught you! | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

i finally pulled myself up to write a TKaTB fic.

i wanted a reader who was freaky like sol and matched his freak LOL, so we have reader who is aware and not a complete airhead!!

i’m also brain rotted about this man sooo bad it’s insane guys help!

enjoy ;P

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62611723

word count: 3747

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐️

cw: stalking, semi-public sex, blowjobs, manipulation

🌱˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

The library was quiet today, save for the soft rustle of pages from students studying diligently and the occasional creak of the old bookshelves that your university so desperately needed to replace.

You liked it this way, a nice, quiet place far away from everyone, where you could just relax and be alone, and where Solivan’s eyes could follow you without drawing much attention. He was sitting nearby, alone at the end of the big oak table tucked away in one of the library’s four corners.

You had purposefully chosen a spot where he could watch you, presenting yourself out in the open for him. Pretty generous of you, honestly. You could feel it. Sol’s gaze, always lingering on you, his presence a shadow at the edge of your peripheral vision.

Occasionally, you’d glance up on purpose, just to catch a glimpse of his eyes meeting yours before he buried himself back into whatever book he had open, his face flushing that pretty red colour.

It was comforting in a twisted, intoxicating way. You already knew he was infatuated with you. It started off quite tame, to be fair; you hadn’t really noticed him before since he always sat at the back of the class, away from judgmental eyes.

But then the little things started. A shadow following you home, or that burning feeling of being watched.

Then one windy evening, you came back home to your apartment to find your window lock broken, and the place freezing because of it. Naturally, you freaked out. You called Crowe to come assess the damage, check if anything was missing, and to keep you company while you tied a flimsy ribbon around the latch, hoping it would be enough to keep your stalker out.

Unfortunately, Sol needed a lot more than ribbon to deter him.

That same night, he oh so easily undid your makeshift lock and slid right up next to your unconscious sleeping body, stroking your hair and holding your hand as if you were lovers.

Unlucky for him, you were a light sleeper, and the slight brush of his hand woke you. The room was so dark, save for the beams of moonlight streaming through the same window Sol had crept through not too long ago. You could only catch pieces of green and black hair shuffling around as you lay, somewhat petrified, in bed.

Then he spoke.

“My sweet pumpkin… sorry about your lock. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered to you sweetly.

You felt him shift, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before sliding out of your bed, bidding your “sleeping” self goodbye as he slipped back out through your window. By the time you scurried to see his figure outside, he was already gone.

The next day, his actions couldn’t have been more different. You met him face to face in your art class, where you were paired as new partners for the upcoming project.

“My name is Solivan Brugmansia. Sol for short,” he said.

It was the same voice.

At the time, your blood ran cold as you realized the tall, brooding man in front of you was the same one who’d been lying next to you in bed the night before, breaking into your apartment just for a few moments of bliss with you. You.

Were you creeped out? Of course. Scared? Maybe a little. But for some sick reason, you were flattered that he’d taken such a liking to you.

“Sol… like the sun? That’s so cute, considering you’re dressed so… alternatively,” you said, deciding to experiment a little.

You stepped closer, your hand brushing against the thick black-and-green choker he wore. Your fingers moved lower to lift the key necklace around his neck, examining it carefully. Hmm. It didn’t look like a key to your apartment, so that was good.

You looked up at him, offering a sweet smile as you stepped back. You noticed how red he’d gotten and how he murmured under his breath about how pretty you were, clearly under the assumption that you hadn’t heard.

Oh, you were going to have fun with this one.

Today, you decided to push him further and tease him a little to see how he’d react.

Standing up from your seat, you knew Sol’s eyes would already be on you, watching and studying your every move as you walked over to the English section. To be fair, you actually did need some books for an upcoming research paper but you grabbed one at random in all honesty.

As you scanned the shelves, you found the perfect target: a book just out of reach. You stretched your arm dramatically, fingers brushing the spine but never quite making contact. You let out a dramatic, frustrated sigh, even pouting a little as you looked up at the book, knowing full well Sol was watching.

“Having trouble?” His voice was velvet, smooth and dark, as he appeared from nowhere. His tall figure loomed just behind you, towering over your own, and close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

You turned to him, feigning surprise. “Oh, Sol! I didn’t see you there. Could you help me, please?” You looked up at him with pouty lips and big eyes, clasping your hands together as you played the damsel in distress. And he was eating it up.

His pierced lips curved into a small smile, but his eyes, those intense, bright eyes, burned with something else. “Let me help you.”

He reached over your shorter body, effortlessly pulling the book from its place. His arm brushed yours, and you shivered, allowing the reaction to linger longer than necessary. He noticed. Of course he did.

“Oh, thank you, Sol,” you said softly, looking up at him through your lashes. “God, you’re such a lifesaver for me!”

Something flickered in his gaze. Satisfaction? Possessiveness? Maybe it was a bit of both. “Anything for you,” he murmured.

You took the book from his hands, letting your fingers graze his. A deliberate move, subtle but effective. His breath hitched, barely audible, but you caught it.

“Are you studying by yourself?”

Holding the book he’d just grabbed for you close to your chest, an idea popped into your head.

“Yeah, I was uh… sitting over there.”

Sol’s gaze shifted as he gestured to the big oak table he’d been seated at earlier. Thank god he’d picked a more isolated area to reside in.

“Oh my god, perfect! I’ll come sit with you!”

Before he could get an answer in, you zipped back to your study area to gather your bag and papers, carrying it all over to the empty table, save for Sol’s setup, and dropped it all on top.

“You don’t have to stay with me, you know,” he said, glancing at you as he slipped back onto his chair. “I’m fine on my own.”

“I like being with you, though,” you replied, your voice now more quiet since, well, you were in the library. “With you.”

He blinked, his cheeks flushing as he tried to focus back on his book, but you weren’t about to make it that easy for him. You slipped into the chair beside him, leaning slightly over the table as you pretended to skim through the pages of the book he’d grabbed for you.

“Hey, Sol,” you said, your tone sweet but laced with mischief. “Do you think Edgar Allan Poe was really that depressing, or do you think he was just dramatic?”

He looked at you, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. “Poe… was a complicated man,” he began. “His life was filled with tragedy, but I think he used his writing as a way to… cope.”

“Hmm,” you mused, tilting your head as if deep in thought. “I don’t know, some of his stuff just seems so… intense. Maybe I’m just not smart enough to get it?” You leaned in closer, your shoulder brushing against his as you gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look.

“That’s not true,” he said quickly, his voice firm. “You’re incredibly intelligent.”

“Aww, you really think so?” you cooed, leaning even closer until your face was mere inches from his. His breath hitched, and you swore you saw his grip tighten on the edge of the table.

Before he could respond, you shifted, swinging a leg over to settle yourself on his lap. His entire body went rigid beneath you, and his face turned a deep, furious red.

“What are you doing?” he stammered, his hands hovering awkwardly near your hips, unsure of where to place them.

“Getting comfortable,” you said simply, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned in close, your lips nearly brushing his ear. “Is that okay?”

He swallowed hard, his hands finally resting on your waist as if he couldn’t help himself. “Y-yeah, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his breaths came out more quickly, staggered, and you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. The hard press of his cock hidden beneath the layers of clothing between you only confirmed it, and you smiled to yourself, savouring the bit of power you held over him.

You hummed, pretending to be clueless about his… growing problem as you skimmed your books, jotting down notes here and there, while Sol struggled to even get through one paragraph of the book he was reading, your body on top of his becoming too much of a distraction.

The girl of his dreams, the one he snuck out to see every night, the one he studied so closely and had fantasies about, was, right now, in this very moment, sitting on his lap. Her plush ass perfectly slotted against his body. And it was driving him insane.

“Sol?” you asked suddenly, your voice cutting through his haze. “You haven’t turned the page in a while. Is it boring?”

His eyes darted to yours, wide and panicked, as if you’d caught him doing something forbidden. “N-no, it’s fine,” he stammered, his hands flexing against your waist. “Just… distracted.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Distracted? By what?” You leaned in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Is something on your mind? You can talk to me, you know…”

His breath hitched again, and he clutched you tighter as if grounding himself. “No,” he whispered, voice low and strained. “I-I’m okay.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, savoring the way he froze beneath you. “If you’re so sure,” you murmured, your voice laced with a little bit of concern. “Because if you need to talk I’m always here for you sweetness.”

Yeah that did it.

Sol’s pants felt so tight as the curve of your ass shifted on and off his hard, clothed cock, and he bit his lip to try and stifle any noises as you moved around. His hands gripped your waist as he spoke into your ear, low and raspy.

Sol’s hands trembled as they clutched your waist, his knuckles whitening with restraint. “Please… sit still,” he begged, his voice strained and heavy with need.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider his plea, your lips curling into a wicked smile. “Hmm, I don’t know,” you teased, shifting just slightly, enough to make him suck in a sharp breath. “You seem a little tense, Sol. Are you sure you’re okay?”

His eyes darted to yours, wide and desperate. “I-I need… I should go.”

Before you could respond, he gently lifted you off his lap and bolted from the table, his long strides carrying him toward the exit of the library and to the left, down the hall to where the bathrooms were tucked away.

You watched him disappear through the library exit, a slow grin spreading across your face. How adorable. He thought he could hide from you.

Leaving your things behind, you followed. The hallway leading to the bathrooms was dimly lit, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above, reminding you for a moment of how shitty this university could be.

You pushed the door open silently, locking it behind you with ease and stepped inside, finding Sol leaning over the sink, his head bowed, gripping the edges so tightly his knuckles were pale. He was panting, looking as if he might pass out from just being teased by you, his hard-on visible to you as it strained against his pants.

“Running away from me, Sol?” you asked, your voice lilting as you closed the distance between you.

He froze, lifting his head up instantly, his reflection in the mirror staring back at you, panic swirling in his bright eyes. “W-What are you doing here?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he turned around to face you.

You stopped just behind him, close enough that your breath brushed along the nape of his neck. “You ran off so suddenly… I got worried,” you murmured, your fingers trailing lightly along the edge of his sleeve, brushing his fingers with yours. “What’s wrong, Sol? Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no,” he choked out, refusing to meet your gaze. His hands flexed against the sink, and you noticed the way his shoulders tensed, his whole body tense with barely-contained frustration.

“You’re lying to me,” you whispered, stepping closer, your chest now pressed flush against his. You slid your hands up his arms slowly, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. “You’re so worked up, Sol… what were you planning to do while you're here?”

“I—I wasn’t going to–” he stuttered, but the words died on his lips as your hands moved to his waist, your fingers brushing along the waistband of his pants.

“Shh,” you cooed, standing on the tips of your toes and brushing some of his hair out of the way to press a gentle kiss to his neck. “No need to lie to me sweetness. I already know.”

His breath hitched audibly, and his hands clenched the sink harder as he fought to maintain control. “You can’t just… do this to me,” he rasped, his voice breaking with desperation.

“Do what?” you asked innocently, your lips trailing to his ear. “Help you? Because it seems to me like you need it, Sol.”

You let your fingers dip lower, teasing the button of his pants as you whispered, “So tell me… do you want my help?”

His resolve crumbled in an instant. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice barely more than a whimper. “Please.”

Sol’s hands gripped the edge of the sink so tightly, his knuckles were turning white with restraint, but his body was betraying him. He was trembling with need, his chest heaving, every breath shallow and hitched. You could feel his thighs tremble as your hands deftly moved to unzip his pants, undoing some buttons along the way.

You took your time, savoring the moment with this gorgeous man crumbling under your touch and gaze. Slowly, you pressed your body flush against his, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. You could feel the stiffness of his arousal, throbbing against the confines of his boxers, and it made your own… area pulsate in response.

“Sol…” you whispered against his ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. So desperate for me.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his hands still resting against the sink, his body shaking as if he couldn’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.

“I can’t… I can’t take it anymore,” he groaned, his voice cracking. “I need you… now.”

You smiled, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You knew exactly what he wanted, what his body was begging for. You slid your fingers down the waistband of his boxers, barely grazing his skin, and Sol’s breath hitched, his hips jerking forward in anticipation.

“Patience, Sol,” you teased, your fingers circling his cock gently, slowly, barely touching but just enough contact to make him shudder. “You’ve been so good for me so far, haven’t you?”

His hands flexed against the sink again, and he let out a low, guttural moan. “I need you,” he whispered again, more urgently now, his voice raw with desperation.

You didn’t make him wait any longer.

With a swift motion, you freed him from the remains of his clothing, your hands finally wrapping around his cock completely. Sol’s body jerked at the contact, his head falling forward onto your shoulder as a sharp gasp left his lips. He was so sensitive, so responsive, and it made your heart race.

“You’re mine now,” you murmured, your voice low and commanding. You began to move your hand slowly, torturously, teasing him just enough to make him squirm, but never enough to let him find release.

Sol’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need, his hands gripping the counter as if it was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart. “Fuck…” he muttered. “Please… I can’t take it.”

“You can take it, Sol,” you whispered, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve made it this far, haven’t you? You’re going to finish when I tell you to. Understand?”

He nodded his head, never disagreeing with your demands, his eyes were glazed with lust for you, his body twitching with every slow stroke from your hands. “Yes… Yes, I understand.”

Sol whined softly to himself, as you jerked your hand up and down. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, only for you to sweetly tell him to open them back up, of course he obeyed, watching your slow, deliberate movements. The way you were hovering over him right now, your eyes boring into his, as your hands were wrapped around his cock, applying more pressure.

“You’re being so good for me Sol…” you purred, slowly sinking towards the ground, not caring about being in a bathroom, or even caring that you were doing this at your university. You looked up at him sweetly, asking him politely to hold your hair back, and he did it right away, after all how could he refuse?

He gently pulled all your hair back, somewhat neatly wrapping it around his hand, careful to not pull too tightly. He felt your warm hand gently stroke his cock, your lips just inches away, so so close.

Then you started to tease him. Licking up the underside of his length, gently pressing kisses from the base to the tip, your tongue teasing him as he whimpered and started to shake underneath you, completely submitting himself to you.

He could feel your hot breath as you hummed and toyed around with him. You slowly started to take his whole length into your mouth, inch by inch until your nose was pressed against his pelvis. He was in heaven.

Sol gasped at the sensation, his hand tugging at your hair as he watched you bob your head up and down, your hot, wet mouth, and shivered at the way his cock hit the back of your throat.

“P-Please… hah… pumpkin…” Sol called out for you. His legs shook gently as his climax slowly built up, soft moans and whimpers escaping his lips as he bit down on one hand to muffle his noises, your tempo never letting up as you continued to suck on him.

“Can I cum? Please… let me cum for you pumpkin.” He was begging quietly in the bathroom, watching you suck and hearing you make a muffled ‘mhm’ noise with your pretty plump lips wrapped around him, granting him permission without words.

Within seconds, his hands flew to the back of your head, pushing you down as he came into your mouth, moaning softly as he did, and you graciously let him, taking it all as you felt his fingers dig into your scalp. After a few moments he took a deep breath, releasing his grip on you, and falling back against the cool countertop of the bathroom sink.

You looked up at him sweetly, sticking your tongue out to show him that you had swallowed it all.

Freak.

Slowly, you started to stand up with a satisfied smile, your eyes meeting Sol’s pretty red-orange ones. He was still catching his breath, his chest rising and falling, his skin flushed with heat.

You took a step back, eyes never leaving his, and fixed your own clothes with a bit of deliberate slowness, just to tease him. You tucked your shirt back into your uniform skirt, your fingers trailing over the fabric that dipped between your breasts, noticing that Sol’s gaze followed your every movement, still dazed, and still processing everything that had just happened in the bathroom.

Once you were finished, you stepped closer to him, your body just inches away from his. You tilted your head slightly, studying him with that playful glint in your eyes.

“Guess we’re even now, huh?” you whispered, your lips curling into a sly grin.

Sol’s eyes flickered to yours, his confusion evident even with that lingering haze of pleasure clouding his mind. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “I know you’ve been sneaking into my apartment at night, Sol… I can hear you when you’re outside my window, and well… playing with yourself in my bed.”

You pulled back, eyes locking with his as you saw the way his pupils dilated, the sudden panic flashing in his gaze. “I’ll make it easier for you though and leave the window unlocked for you tonight, darling,” you purred, your voice dripping with both sweetness and mischief.

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you straightened up, straightening your clothes one last time, watching as Sol stood frozen, his expression a mixture of disbelief and awe.

“Don’t keep me waiting, okay?” you teased, giving him a quick kiss, before turning away and walking towards the door.

You pulled it open, leaving him standing in the bathroom alone to process what had just happened, as you stepped out into the hallway. The last thing you heard before the door clicked shut was his soft mutter, “Damn… she knows?”

You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you walked away, knowing exactly what would happen that night. He was yours from now on.

🌱˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

#tkatb vn #tkatb sol #tkatb mc #tkatb x reader #tkatb spoilers #sol x reader #solivan brugmansia #solivan x reader #the kid at the back vn #the kid at the back sol #the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back spoilers

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rafesfawn · 6 months ago

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🪽🧺 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋

𝜗ৎ⋆｡˚ when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...

or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!

warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!

a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)

this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3

a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.

she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.

sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.

rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.

letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.

"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.

your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.

a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.

you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.

the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.

you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.

he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.

you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.

"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.

still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.

"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.

a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.

just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.

"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.

you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.

"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.

looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.

you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.

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solxamber · 5 months ago

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How about a request where Octa trio and idia (seperate) end up drunkenly confessing they have a crush on the reader during a moment where readers helping em + the aftermath of them realizing when sober and hung over and reacting to the situation? Feel free to delete or ignore! just had thought it could be fun

Drunken Confessions with: Octatrio + Idia

a/n: sorry for the long wait, i hope you like it <3

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul rarely let himself slip, and by slip, you meant this. He staggered, his weight shifting heavily against your side as you supported him on the walk back to Mostro Lounge. His normally polished demeanor was gone, replaced by flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, and a faint, almost imperceptible slur in his words.

“Y-You’re…hic…so nice,” he mumbled, leaning more into you than he probably intended. “Why’re you so nice to me?”

You adjusted your hold, an amused grin tugging at your lips. “Maybe because someone has to make sure you don’t faceplant on the cobblestones, Azul.”

He blinked up at you, a soft, dopey smile crossing his face. “You’re funny. And good looking… so pretty.”

You stopped walking for a moment, looking down at him in surprise. “Are you sure you’re not hallucinating?”

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, waving his hand in what he probably thought was a convincing argument. “I’m serious! I… I think about you all the time. You’re… you’re perfect.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Azul Ashengrotto, perfectionist extraordinaire and self-proclaimed businessman, was rambling about how great you were while leaning heavily on your shoulder. You felt your cheeks heat up, but you brushed it off as the effects of the alcohol loosening his tongue.

“You can thank me when you’re sober, Mr. Compliment Machine,” you teased, continuing your trek toward his dorm.

But Azul wasn’t done. “I mean it!” he insisted, nearly tripping over his own feet. You quickly steadied him, and he looked up at you, his eyes uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I… I like you. Like… like you like you.”

Your steps faltered, and you stared at him for a moment. His expression was so sincere, even through the haze of intoxication, that it made your chest ache.

“…Azul,” you said softly, “let’s get you home first, okay?”

He blinked at you, his brow furrowing in confusion, but he nodded obediently. “Okay… but you have to promise… hic… you won’t disappear. I'll give you free coffee for life.”

“I promise,” you said with a laugh.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, and Azul groaned as the dull, pounding headache reminded him of last night’s poor decisions. He buried his face in his pillow, groaning again at the flashbacks of you holding him upright, your warm laughter echoing in his ears.

What did I do? he thought, mortified.

And then it hit him—he’d confessed. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. He sat up too quickly, clutching his head as the dizziness hit him. You must’ve been horrified. Surely, you’d bolted the moment he fell asleep, wanting to avoid the awkwardness.

But then he heard a sound from the kitchen.

Azul froze, his heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. He slid out of bed, carefully padding toward the source of the noise. There you were, standing in the kitchenette, humming softly to yourself as you poured coffee into two mugs.

You turned when you heard him, flashing him a warm smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead. I made coffee—thought you’d need it.”

Azul stared, his jaw slightly slack. “You’re… still here?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Where else would I go? You promised me free coffee for life, remember?”

Azul groaned, running a hand down his face. “I didn’t mean it.”

You laughed, stepping closer and handing him a mug. “I know. But you did mean the other thing, didn’t you?”

He stiffened, clutching the coffee mug like it might save him. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered, his face flushing.

You tilted your head, giving him a knowing smile. “The part where you said you liked me.”

Azul’s grip on the mug tightened, and he swallowed hard. “…Yes,” he admitted softly, not meeting your gaze. “I meant it. But I understand if you—”

Before he could finish, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His words died in his throat as he stared at you, wide-eyed.

“I like you too, Azul,” you said with a grin. “I have for a while.”

Azul blinked, his brain struggling to process your words. “…You do?”

“Obviously,” you teased. “Why else would I stick around to help you last night? You’re a handful, you know that?”

Azul’s lips twitched into a small, shy smile, the tension in his shoulders melting away. “…Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For the coffee? Or for liking you back?” you teased, taking a sip of your drink.

“Both,” he replied, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

And black coffee had never tasted so sweet to him.

Jade Leech

Jade Leech prided himself on his composure, his refinement, and his ability to remain unflappable under any circumstances. That all went out the window after a few too many drinks.

You hadn’t even expected to see him like this—flushed cheeks, a lazy, amused smile, and a rare looseness to his usual precision. He wasn’t stumbling per se, but his steps lacked their usual grace, and every so often, he swayed just enough to make you reach out and steady him.

“I must commend you,” Jade slurred, his voice as smooth as ever despite the alcohol. “You’re quite… considerate. Most wouldn’t bother with something so trivial as escorting me home.”

“Trivial? You can barely walk straight,” you said with a huff, adjusting your hold on his arm to keep him upright. “I’m not leaving you to faceplant in the dirt, Jade.”

His laugh was softer than usual, warmer somehow. “Hmm… you truly are unique.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah. Save the compliments for when you’re sober.”

But Jade had other plans. “You’re always like this,” he murmured, his gaze drifting toward you. “Kind. Thoughtful. Beautiful…”

You froze for a moment, glancing at him. “You’re drunk, Jade. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Oh, I do,” he replied, the faintest pout gracing his lips. “I’ve wanted to say it for so long… but I couldn’t. You’re so… precious to me, I couldn’t bear to—hic—risk it.”

“Risk what?” you asked softly, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his voice.

“Losing you,” he whispered. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by a raw, unfiltered honesty that left you speechless.

You stared at him for a moment before shaking your head. “Come on, let’s get you home,” you said gently, though your heart was pounding in your chest.

The next morning, Jade woke up with a pounding headache and the faint memory of warm hands rubbing his back as you murmured reassurances. His eyes snapped open as the events of the night before came rushing back.

“…Oh no,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually said it. Confessed his feelings so blatantly, without any of the careful planning or subtlety he prided himself on. And to you, of all people—the one person he couldn’t bear to push away.

Jade steeled himself. He’d handle this like any other delicate situation—with poise and precision. If he acted normal, he could convince you that his confession had been nothing more than the ramblings of a drunk man.

And so, when he saw you later that day, he greeted you with his usual calm smile. “Good morning. I trust you slept well?”

You blinked at him, a bit surprised by his nonchalance. “Uh… yeah. How about you?”

“Quite well, thank you,” he said smoothly, showing no hint of the internal panic roiling beneath the surface.

You studied him for a moment, your brow furrowing slightly. “Do you… remember anything from last night?”

“Only bits and pieces,” he replied with a polite chuckle. “If I said or did anything out of the ordinary, I do hope you’ll forgive me.”

Out of the ordinary? You were starting to wonder if you’d hallucinated his heartfelt confession. Jade was acting so normal, so perfectly composed, that it was almost infuriating.

It wasn’t until later, when you were both in the lounge, that he slipped.

“Of course, I treasure you more than anyone else,” he said offhandedly, then immediately froze as he realized what he’d just admitted.

You stared at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Wait. What did you just say?”

Jade cleared his throat, his face betraying the slightest hint of embarrassment. “Ah… I misspoke.”

“No, you didn’t,” you said firmly, stepping closer. “You meant it, didn’t you? Just like you meant it last night.”

He hesitated, his composure faltering for the first time since that morning. “…Yes,” he admitted softly, avoiding your gaze. “I meant every word.”

A smile broke across your face, and before he could say anything else, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Good. Because I like you too, Jade.”

His eyes widened, and for once, he was completely at a loss for words. “You… you do?”

You nodded, your grin widening. “Of course. Why do you think I stayed to take care of you last night?”

Jade’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, his cheeks faintly tinged with pink. “I see… I suppose I should count myself lucky, then.”

“You definitely should,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “Now, are you going to keep pretending nothing happened, or are you going to take me out on a proper date?”

Jade chuckled softly, the tension melting away as he looked at you with newfound warmth. “I believe I owe you the latter, don’t I?”

And with that, the polished, unflappable Jade Leech was yours to keep.

Floyd Leech was unpredictable on a good day. Drunk Floyd? That was another beast entirely.

He’d somehow managed to drink more than anyone else at the party, slinging his arm over your shoulder with a lopsided grin as he loudly declared you his “favorite Shrimpy.” If it weren’t for your quick reflexes, he probably would’ve knocked over at least three tables by now.

“Floyd, slow down!” you scolded, grabbing his wrist as he lunged toward a decorative vase like it was a basketball hoop. “We’re not here to redecorate.”

“But it’d look so much better broken!” he whined, leaning heavily against you. His sharp teeth flashed in a grin that was somehow equal parts adorable and terrifying. “Don’t ya think, Shrimpy?”

“No, Floyd,” you said firmly, guiding him away from the vase. “Let’s just focus on getting you home in one piece, okay?”

Floyd pouted but allowed you to steer him toward the exit, his lanky frame draped over yours like a human anchor. As you walked, he alternated between humming tunelessly, giggling at nothing, and telling you random, cryptic statements like, “The moon’s gonna eat you if you don’t smile back at it.”

“Sure, Floyd. I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, trying not to laugh.

It wasn’t until you were nearly to Octavinelle that his unhinged ramblings took a sudden, softer turn.

“You know somethin’, Shrimpy?” he said, his voice quieter now, almost wistful.

“What’s that?” you asked, adjusting your grip on him as he started to slump forward.

“I really, really like you,” he slurred, his mismatched eyes blinking up at you with a rare sincerity. “Like… not just as a buddy or whatever. I mean, like… like-like.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. “Floyd, you’re drunk.”

“So what?” he mumbled, his eyelids drooping. “Still true.”

Before you could respond, he let out a content sigh and promptly passed out, his head lolling against your shoulder.

“Of course,” you muttered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. “You couldn’t confess while sober, could you?”

The next morning, Floyd was back to his usual self—or so it seemed. He greeted you with his usual wide grin and a sing-songy, “Mornin’, Shrimpy!”

You half-expected him to pretend last night didn’t happen, but instead, he seemed… more affectionate than usual. He leaned closer when he talked to you, casually draped his arm over your shoulder, and even offered you one of his prized snacks without a second thought.

It wasn’t until later, while you were both lounging in the lounge, that he dropped the bombshell.

“So, what do ya wanna do for our first date?” he asked, twirling a toothpick between his fingers.

You blinked at him. “Our what?”

“Our date,” he said, tilting his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You know, ‘cause we’re dating now.”

“…Floyd, you never asked me to be your partner.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, I did. Last night. Don’t you remember?”

“You were drunk, Floyd,” you pointed out.

“Still counts,” he said with a shrug, then grinned. “Unless… you don’t wanna date me?”

You stared at him for a moment, then let out a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Is that a yes?” he asked, leaning in with a teasing smirk.

“It’s a yes,” you said, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile.

Floyd’s grin widened, and before you knew it, he was scooping you up into a crushing hug, spinning you around as he laughed. “Knew ya couldn’t resist me, Shrimpy!”

As chaotic as he was, you couldn’t help but think you were in for one wild, wonderful ride.

Idia Shroud didn’t go to parties. Not unless someone twisted his arm—or in this case, dragged him out. His idea of fun was gaming in his room, not standing around awkwardly while extroverts did extrovert things.

And yet, here he was. Drinking something questionable because a certain someone (you) had sweet-talked him into joining.

He didn’t expect to end up three drinks deep, his face red, and leaning on your shoulder as you tried to guide him back to Ignihyde.

“Y-you don’t have to do this,” he muttered, stumbling slightly. “I’m fine. Totally fine. Just… a little dizzy.”

“Uh-huh,” you said dryly, tightening your grip on his arm. “You’re lucky I’m here, or you’d probably have wandered into the forest by now."

Idia chuckled, the sound softer and less nervous than usual. “Maybe. But you’d come get me, right? You always do…”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, brushing off the adoration in his voice to focus on keeping him upright. “Come on, almost there.”

He was quiet for a moment, save for the occasional muttered complaint about his legs feeling like jelly. Then, he said, almost too softly to hear:

“Do you know why I always listen to you?”

You glanced at him, surprised. “Why’s that?”

“‘Cause I… I really like you,” he mumbled, his face somehow growing redder. “Like… more than I like my SSR pulls. And you know that’s saying something.”

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him. “Idia, are you—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he tripped over absolutely nothing, faceplanted into the ground, and immediately started snoring.

“…Of course,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

The next morning, Idia woke up with a pounding headache and the horrifying realization that he’d said everything out loud.

“No. No, no, no, no,” he groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. “I’ll just… never leave my room again. Yeah. Problem solved.”

His brilliant plan lasted all of five minutes before he heard you outside his door.

“Idia, open up,” you called, your voice firm.

“N-nope! Not happening!”

You sighed loudly. “Okay. Ortho?”

“Yes?” came Ortho’s cheerful reply.

“Break the door down.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Idia scrambled to unlock the door, cracking it open just enough to peek out. “No need to bring in the big guns! I-I’m opening it, see?”

He stepped back, allowing you inside, and immediately tried to hide behind his hair. “If you’re here to say you hate me now, just—just get it over with,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

“Why would I hate you?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“B-because of what I said!” he wailed, his voice cracking. “I—I confessed, and then I passed out like an idiot, and—ugh! It’s like something out of a cringe anime!”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, cutting him off mid-rant. “Idia, shut up for a second.”

“What—”

You leaned in and kissed him softly, feeling him freeze in place. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but grin at his wide-eyed, stunned expression.

“I like you too, dummy,” you said. “Who else would I like? If not you, then who?”

Idia’s face turned scarlet, his hair flaring pink at the edges. “Y-you… you really mean that?”

“Obviously,” you teased, ruffling his hair. “Now stop hiding in your room and let’s go get some breakfast. You owe me for last night.”

Idia nodded, still too stunned to form words, but the small, shy smile on his face said everything you needed to know.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud

1K notes · View notes

viaxslz · 8 months ago

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☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ NOT SAYING I LOVE YOU BACK

享受 ! .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 gn!reader, cw: pet names, not proofread :P, Maknae line ver.

BANG CHAN

“Bye Chan!” You spoke making your way over to Chan who slouched on the couch as he lazily scrolled through his phone with a bored expression. You leaned down placing a soft kiss on his cheek. He hummed turning his head to face you. “Ok bye bye! Love you” he smiles at you. You smiled back turning around to leave but stopped to Chan pulling you back. “Say it?” “Say what?” You asked tilting your head to the side with a puzzled expression. “I love you too” he responded with a slight glare waiting patiently for you. “Ohhh” you giggled as soon as you realized. “I love you too”

LEE KNOW

Lee know pulled over at the front of your house. He was dropping you home after a wonderful date. As you bid goodbye to him, he opened his mouth to speak. “Ok..i love you” he said staring lovingly at you. You nodded turning your body to leave the car only to realized it was locked. You glanced back at Lee know who stared blankly at you. “I love you darling”. “I know” you responded like It was very obvious. You turned to open the door but he pulled your hands back preventing you from getting out. “Babe I said I love you…..didn’t you hear?” He spoke getting slightly pouting as he gripped onto your hands tightly. “Same” you answered trying to stifle your laughter. He scoffed and started the engine driving away from your house grumbling under his breath. “You’re not going home until you say it back”.

SEO CHANGBIN

Today was one of those days Changbin decided to be nice and drive you to work. Before you go down he gives you an I love you filled with happiness and love. You stayed silent and turned around to opened the car door and leave but it was locked. You turned around to give him a “what the heck face”. “I said I love you..?” He repeated in case you didn’t hear it. You nodded turning around to leave again, you were going to take whatever it takes to avoid repeating it. He grabs your arm and looks at you with a forced smile, trying to mask his annoyance. The silence was enough to make him grab your face and pull it closer to his. “I.LOVE.YOU.TOO! Come on repeat after me or else I’m gonna cry” he whines. You giggled at his adorable behavior and finally decided to stop teasing him. “Alright alright I love you too” you said placing a soft kiss on his cheeks.

HWANG HYUNJIN

You were lazily scrolling through Tik tok until you came across a trend where you don’t say “I love you back” to your boyfriend. You decided to do it tomorrow before he goes to work. “I’ll get going now. I love you princess!” He beamed happily. “Ok, thank you. Bye bye” you responded trying to sound dry. Hyunjin paused in his tracks turning to face you. "Huh? I said i love you, baby.…..Did i do something wrong?" His expressions changed as a pout started to form on his lips. He slowly walked towards you. “Did I do anything wrong? I’m sorry….please forgive me” he pleaded reaching out to your hands and lightly squeezing it. “I love you Princess” he repeated in a softer tone. “Thank you!” You nonchalantly responded. “Darling don’t you love me anymore? I promise I'll buy you a sweet treat and a bouquet of flowers. I'll buy you lots of plushies. Take you out on lots of dates. Just Say you love me back, pretty please..." His voice was pleading, and he pouted while looking at you with puppy eyes. “Hyunjin you are going to be late for work” you pointed at the ticking clock. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving until you say you love me back. Please say you love me back. Hyunjin continues to pout while still staring at you with puppy eyes. You sighed in defeat not being able to handle his cuteness. “FINE! I love you too!” You responded making him crack open his lips to a bright smile. His previous sulky and needy emotions replaced with a happier one.

PERM TAGLIST 📌🔖 ──── @the-sea-called-history02 @oc3anfloor

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids headcanons #stray kids soft hours #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #changbin x reader #changbin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff

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y3sterdaysproblem · 6 months ago

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smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter one

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 2.4k

a/n: first series! it won’t be super long, but I hope you enjoy. send requests for more fics!

“Matt, you can’t back out now!” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare at your best friend where he lays on his bed, setting his phone down to look up at you.

“I’m sorry, love, something came up and I can’t make it,” he apologizes, shrugging his shoulders. “I can’t get out of it.”

You groan, throwing your head back in frustration. You had a family wedding to attend and already RSVP’d with a plus one, which was supposed to be your best friend Matt, who had lovingly agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend for the night. Your family was super invasive about you getting a boyfriend, and you wanted to avoid all of the comments and questions by just pretending to have a boyfriend for one night at the wedding, but your plan was falling apart.

“What am I supposed to do? I already told everyone I was coming with somebody, they’re gonna know I was lying if I show up by myself,” you tell him, trying to rack your brain for any ideas.

“You could bring Nick,” Matt suggests, picking his phone back up and going back to scrolling.

You scoff. “Yeah right, like Nick could pretend to be straight for an entire night. He’d be caught in less than an hour.” You shake your head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to Matt. “I’m gonna have to go on, like, Bumble or something and find some random to go with me.”

Matt looks up at you over his phone, waiting for you to lock eyes with him before he starts to speak. “I mean… I know one other guy you could ask.”

You tilt your head, excited to hear the suggestion, before you realize who he’s talking about and your eyes widen, head shaking rapidly. “Absolutely not,” you put your hands up, pointer fingers crossed over in an X. “I am not asking Chris, no way.”

Matt raises his eyebrows and purses his lips. “I told you I knew someone, I didn’t say you’d like what I said.”

You roll your eyes. “He would never say yes to me anyway, even if I did want to ask him.”

Matt shrugs. “Maybe. You could always bribe him, he loves a good bribe.”

You think about it for another moment, knowing it would be easier to get Chris to do it than it would to find some random guy to go to a wedding as a first date, but the thought of spending an entire night next to Chris made your skin crawl.

The two of you had never really gotten along, even with you being around as much as you were, you guys never clicked, in fact it was the complete opposite, always insulting each other any chance you got, ignoring each other, and always avoiding being in the same room by yourself, even if only for a few moments.

“I mean… I could try but I really can’t promise I won’t kill your brother, Matt,” you half joke, but not really. “Might turn you into a twin.”

“That’s fucked,” Matt laughs, using his foot to kick you lightly. “I‘ll still be a triplet, even if you kill him. I’ll just be a triplet with severe depression and no will no live.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you tell him through a laugh. “Your life would be so much quieter, wouldn’t that be nice? You’d secretly thank me for killing him.”

Matt shakes his head at you with a smile, though his eyes tell you he thinks you’re crazy, before looking back down at his phone.

“Killing who?” A voice sounds from the doorway and you look up to see the man of the hour staring back at you, a disinterested look on his face.

“You,” you smile sweetly up at Chris.

“That’s nice,” he says, flashing you a fake, tight lipped smile before turning to his brother. “Hey, can you take me to go get food?”

Matt groans and throws his head back, closing his eyes. “But I’m so comfortable,” he whines.

You take a deep breath and consider your options. Chris, who you hate but have known for years, or a random guy who might be a serial killer? You’d definitely be safer with Chris, but the thought of having to be near him without his brothers for an entire night seemed like hell. Especially having to act like you were pleased to be in his presence.

“I’ll take you,” you speak before you can stop yourself.

Both Matt and Chris look at you with shocked expressions, Chris having a bit of disgust in his eyes.

“I’d rather starve, thanks,” Chris replies. “Matt, c’mon seriously, can you take me?” He asks again.

“Chris,” you say in a stern voice, standing up from the bed and walking towards him. “Let me take you. I need to talk to you.”

Chris watches you walk past him through the doorway and then looks back at Matt, shooting him a confused look, to which his brother just shrugs, before he leaves to follow you, finding you by the front door slipping your crocs on.

“The fuck is this about?” He asks, trotting down the stairs to meet you by the front door. “You in love with me or some shit?”

You look up at him with an unamused expression. “You wish I was in love with you.” You huff. “I told you, I gotta talk to you.”

You open the front door and head outside towards your car, opening the drivers side door. You look behind you and see Chris standing in the doorway, staring after you. “I’ll buy your food,” you tell him, and he immediately shuts the door behind him and walks up to your car. “You should’ve led with that!” He says.

You both get in your car and you start driving. “Where do you want to go?” You ask him, turning your head to see him on his phone. “Chris,” you push, reaching out to smack his phone out of his hand, causing it to land on the floor.

“What the fuck, dude. Unnecessary.” Chris huffs, reaching down to grab his phone, but he tucked it between his legs instead of going back on it. “I don’t know, McDonald’s?”

You groan. “You always get McDonald’s. Can’t we get like Popeyes or something?”

Chris looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “Well I didn’t know you were gonna eat, too, jesus. Sure, Popeyes is fine.” He goes for his phone again, but you reach out and grab his hand, stopping him.

“Wait,” you start. “I actually do need to talk to you.”

Chris sighs and puts his phone away in his pocket completely, looking over at you. “Okay, spit it out then.”

You flash a glare at him quickly before returning your eyes to the road. “So… Matt was going to be my plus one for a wedding I’m going to, but he can’t go anymore because something came up, and I can’t ask Nick because he’s gay and that just won’t work, and so that just leaves you.” You tell him nervously.

“So what if he’s gay, your family homophobic or something?” Chris asks, annoyance lacing his voice.

You sigh and pull into the Popeyes parking lot, pulling into a spot and throwing the car into park before you turn your body to face Chris. “No, they’re not homophobic. It’s just… I kind of told them I was bringing a boyfriend.”

Chris stares at you for a moment before laughing, completely unserious. “You? A boyfriend? That’s hilarious. I can’t believe you’re lying to your family about having a boyfriend.”

You don’t laugh though, you just drop your eyes down to your lap, knowing that this was exactly how the conversation would go.

“Wait a minute, that means you want me to pretend I’m your boyfriend? Fuck no, I’d rather be single for the rest of my life. Forget it, dude, you’re shit outta luck with me.” Chris shakes his head, bringing a hand up to run through his hair.

You nod and start backing out of the spot, heading towards the drive-thru. “Yeah I figured that was how you’d respond,” you murmur.

You guys order your food, and you still pay for it, staying true to your word, before heading home. It was a quick but quiet ride back, both of you getting out of the car without a word, not even a ‘thank you’ shot your way. You take your shoes off and head back up to Matt’s room, seeing him in the same position you left him in, only now he was watching a movie, and you got in his bed to join him with your food.

“How’d it go?” He asked, reaching out to steal one of your fries.

“Exactly how I expected it to go. He laughed in my face and said he’d rather be single for the rest of his life than pretend to be my boyfriend,” you tell Matt, looking down at him from where you sat.

Matt smiles up at you, reaching out to pat your leg. “Sorry, kid. You tried.”

You nod and look up at the tv screen, starting to eat your dinner.

The next day, you’re sitting on your couch panting your toes and watching your favorite comfort show when you hear the doorbell ring, startling you as you weren’t expecting anybody over today. You look down at your toes and swear under your breath, seeing that you smeared polish along your skin.

You set down the polish on the table and stand up, walking to your door and pulling it open, jaw dropping in shock when you come face to face with Chris, the last person you expected to show up at your door unannounced. You almost wanted to rub your eyes in case you were mistaking him for another triplet, but you knew your eyes didn’t deceive you.

“Chris?” You question. “How did you get here?”

He rolls his eyes at you. “I ubered?” He says like it’s obvious. “You gonna let me in or what?”

You take a step back and let him into your house, shutting the door behind him. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You say, sitting back down on your couch. He follows and sits at the opposite end, looking over at you.

He ignores your question, watching you as you continue to do your toes, cleaning up the mess you made. “Why not just get your toes done?” He asks.

You look at him with an annoyed expression. “Costs money? Why spend money when I can sit around and do it myself?” You go back to painting your toes. “Why are you here?”

Chris shrugs. “Been thinking about what you said yesterday, about the wedding.”

You stop what you’re doing and put the polish back down, turning your attention on Chris completely. “Did you change your mind?” You ask him.

He sighs and licks his lips before speaking. “Consider it my charity for the year,” he smiles, tilting his head at you. “But I need a small favor from you.”

“A favor in return isn’t charity, Chris, it’s like… eye for an eye or whatever.” You look at him deadpan. Of course he’d want something in return, he could never do something for you out of the goodness of his heart.

“Whatever, dude, you want my help or not?” Chris asks. “If not I’ll just leave, doesn’t make a difference to me.”

You huff and give in. “Fine. What’s the favor?” You ask him.

He pulls out his phone, scooting a bit closer to you on the couch. “There’s this girl that will not stop hitting me up and she’s driving me crazy. I told her I’m not interested, I’ve ignored her messages, I even blocked her on snap to see if she’d get the hint but she still texts me every day.” He shows you all of the unanswered messages and your jaw drops.

“Holy shit, what does this girl see in you?” You laugh, reading how desperate she was for Chris.

“Funny,” Chris replies, unamused.

“What does this have to do with me?” You ask him, looking back up at his face.

“I think it’s only fair if I pretend to be your boyfriend at the wedding, you pretend to be my girlfriend on social media. Only for a few weeks or until she stops messaging me. Plus, you’re way hotter than her. ” Chris tells you, and by the tone of his voice, he’s completely serious.

You feel heat rising up your neck and you try to get it under control before your cheeks turn red. “You think I’m hot?” You ask him, a teasing lilt in your voice.

“Not the point,” he replies.

“So you tell me that you would rather be single for the rest of your life than pretend to be my boyfriend, and now you want me to pretend I’m your girlfriend?” You clarify, and he just nods, like it’s no big deal. “Pretending to be together at an event is one thing, but you want to take photos to look like a couple? That’s a little… intimate don’t you think?”

Chris shrugs his shoulders. “I’m a big boy, you’re a big girl. Don’t think you can handle a little physical touch without falling for me?” He smirks, leaning in closer to you.

You grimace and reach up to push his shoulder away. “Gross, dude. I could have sex with you and still not fall in love with you and your terrible personality.”

Chris gasps, fake shocked, throwing a hand to his chest. “I am a very good lover, why do you think this girl won’t stop texting me?”

Your eyes widen. “You had sex with her?!” You shriek. “Chris, no wonder she keeps blowing your shit up!”

Chris groans and throws his head back, leaning it on the back of the couch. “It was supposed to be a one time thing, I don’t know why she’s so hung up on me!”

You find yourself giggling a bit before you stop and clear your throat, not wanting to give Chris the satisfaction of making you laugh. You compose yourself and shake your head, clearly disappointed in the boy across from you. “Fine, I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend, but no kissing! I draw the line at kissing.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry, I don’t want to kiss you,” Chris cringes. “So… I guess we should start planning this?”

You nod and smile towards him, placing your hands in your lap as you guys start to figure out how to execute both individual plans.

a/n: this chapter is SUPER short but it’s kinda just to get a feel of the fic and how it’s gonna play out. I really hope you guys like this series im so nervous about it!!

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt x reader #matt x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris x you #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris x reader #chris #my fics

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tedmustache · 9 days ago

Note

Can you write a fic where the fem!reader is a med student and accidentally calls Robby "Dad." He starts calling her "kid" and it becomes a small thing for them. After a hard case, the reader is close to a panic attack and Robby is there to comfort them, just like a dad?

Hey, Kid

Pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Platonic!Fem!Reader

Summary: After a sleep-deprived mistake leads to the reader accidentally calling Dr. Robby “Dad,” the nickname “kid” becomes a quiet, constant thread between them.

Warnings: Medical setting (hospital trauma cases), Grief over patient death (minor character), Panic attack symptoms (breathlessness, shaking, emotional distress), Comfort after emotional distress, Mentorship and familial themes (reader/mentor dynamic, not romantic)

Main Masterlist

[...]

You’d been on your feet for thirteen hours, running on one granola bar, an energy drink you regretted two hours ago, and sheer panic. The trauma pager had been going off like it was trying to set a world record, and somehow every single attending had disappeared when it was time to present the new patient.

Except Robby.

Of course, it was Robby.

He stood across from you now, arms crossed, watching you like a hawk while you sputtered through a case summary that sounded a lot smoother in your head than it did aloud.

“…penetrating abdominal trauma, vitals unstable, FAST was positive—uh, positive… and we’re, I mean I was thinking we should prep for the OR—”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Unless you think there’s something else we should—”

“Finish your sentence before you second-guess yourself” he interrupted, not unkindly. “You're presenting. Own it.”

You nodded quickly, cheeks hot. “Right. Prep for the OR.”

A beat passed. Then he gave a small nod, turning to the trauma team. “She’s right. Let’s move.”

You exhaled, finally breathing, and trailed behind as they rolled the patient toward surgery. As the doors swung shut, you felt the adrenaline ebb from your system, replaced with the thudding crash of fatigue.

“Good call, kid” Robby said as he turned away from the board.

And before you could think. Before your caffeine-deprived brain could stop you, it happened.

“Thanks, Dad.”

The hallway went silent. For exactly three seconds.

You froze.

Robby blinked. You blinked. A resident walked by, did a double take, and wisely kept walking.

“I—I meant Dr. Robby! Sir! I mean—I didn’t—”

Robby stared at you for a beat longer

“Well,” he said slowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I’ve been called worse.”

You slapped a hand over your face. “I’m so sorry, that was—”

“Relax. You’re not the first sleep-deprived med student to do it. You just said it loud enough for the whole ER to hear.”

“Please let me die in peace” you muttered.

He snorted. “Not on my shift, kid.”

The nickname stuck. After that, “kid” became a thing.

He called you “kid” when he passed you in the hall. When you brought him a chart. When you correctly identified a spinal fracture. When you tripped over an unplugged IV line and nearly faceplanted into a gurney.

“You okay, kid?”

“Nice catch, kid.”

“Don’t touch that, kid. Do you want to get yelled at by Neuro?”

And despite your initial horror, it grew on you. It was nice, in a weird way. Especially because Robby didn’t just call anyone that. At least, not with that tone. Half exasperated, half protective, like he actually gave a damn.

And he did, you were starting to realize.

Even when he made you redo your discharge summaries three times. Even when he roasted your slightly incorrect anatomy sketch in front of Jack (you had been tired, okay?). Even when he acted like he didn’t care, but showed up every time things got hard.

Like today.

You’d just lost a patient. A teenager. Hit by a drunk driver while biking home from soccer practice. There’d been a window. A small and hopeful window, and you’d clung to it with both hands.

And then you watched it slam shut in front of you.

You stood in the supply room now, the door shut, hands braced on the counter. Your scrubs were stained, your gloves long gone, and your lungs felt like they’d forgotten how to expand.

Your heart was racing. Too fast. You knew the signs too well.

The edges of your vision pulsed. Your hands were starting to tremble.

No. Not here. Not now.

You bit your lip and counted.

In. One, two, three

Out. One, two, three

The door creaked open.

You didn’t have to turn around. You knew the voice.

“Hey, kid.”

You closed your eyes.

“Not a good time” you croaked.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s why I’m here.”

You didn’t answer. Your hands tightened on the edge of the counter until your knuckles went white.

“I shouldn’t have—I should’ve caught it,” you said suddenly. “His pressure dipped and I hesitated, and maybe if I’d said something sooner, or—or run the second unit faster—”

“Stop.” His voice was firm, but not harsh. “That kid died because a drunk driver made a choice. Not because of you.”

You shook your head, breath hitching. “I didn’t do enough.”

“You did everything.”

Silence. Then the soft shuffle of his footsteps. You felt a hand on your shoulder, solid and steady.

“You’re allowed to feel it” Robby said. “That’s part of the job. But don’t carry what’s not yours.”

You finally looked up. He wasn’t glaring. He wasn’t giving you a speech about boundaries or toughness or professionalism.

He just looked… there. Real. Human.

Like a dad.

“I hate this part” you whispered.

“Me too.”

Your eyes welled up, and that was it. You let go.

You didn’t sob. There wasn’t time for that. But a tear or two slipped down your cheek, and when your legs wobbled, Robby guided you gently to sit on the counter stool like he’d done this a hundred times before.

Which, you realized, he probably had.

He stayed for a minute. Maybe two. Just long enough for your breathing to even out. For the shaking to stop.

Then he patted your back. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you a coffee.”

You wiped your face and nodded.

He opened the door, and before you stepped out, he glanced at you sideways.

“You know,” he said, “Dana keeps asking why I don’t have kids.”

You blinked at him. “And what do you say?”

He shrugged. “I say I already have one.”

You laughed, soft and a little broken. But it felt better than crying.

“Lucky me" you said.

Robby gave a lopsided smile. “Damn right.”

#the pitt hbo #the pitt fanfic #the pitt #dr robby fanfic #michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby x reader

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presentmacandcheese · 17 days ago

Text

bring you some peace

jason todd x gn reader

summary: you discover your boyfriend jason is the Red Hood, to his surprise and concern you're not upset in the slightest

or 5k on loving and appreciating your hardworking vigilante boyfriend

a/n: back at it again! This isn't exactly a sequel to softer than, but it's not not a sequel either. I picture it being the same reader, but this piece can absolutely still be read standalone! That said, go forth and please enjoy my second ever DC fic

also on my ao3!

A sigh pushed its way from his diaphragm as the mattress caught Jason’s fall. He ran a hand over his face and into his hair, taking another deep breath, thoughts of your relationship began to fill his mind.

Things with you had been going well lately, too well, the anxiety in his brain was certain.

You were suspiciously patient and understanding, especially when he bailed last minute on plans. Sure, you’d meet him with a pout, but it’d disappear as quickly as it’d come and be replaced with a smile that must have been a trick of the light as it seemed... empathetic? Where was the upset? Shouldn’t you be fighting about him “not prioritizing you” enough? It’s what happened the last time he had a romantic partner.

His partner had felt Jason wasn’t willing to put them over his work, which... He made what time he could for them, but there were lives at stake. He couldn’t be with them every second of every day like they attempted to demand, and they weren’t willing to compromise when the truth of his work remained hidden.

His chest ached at the thought of losing you, knowing it would hurt significantly more than his last relationship. They were nice, mostly. But you. You meant more to him. You meant... everything. Something felt different lately, off in enough way that he felt it making home in his bones.

Maybe he needed to come clean, maybe that was the honesty this relationship required. His heart raced as the thought settled, stomach churning. Would you still want him once you knew? Was he risking his safety, his family’s safety, your safety in vain?

Jason mulled it over, knowing the other shoe may drop with this decision, but pleading with the universe that just this once it wouldn’t have to. Maybe he’d be allowed to have and keep something good.

You knew your boyfriend was the Red Hood.

Jason, bless his heart, had certainly been trying to keep it away from you. But the more time you spent around him, the more little details you were able to put together.

At first, the nights he was unable to spend time together made sense. He told you he worked graveyard shift most nights and his behavior and absences backed that up.

Until he started canceling at confusing moments with vague excuses. The timing of his walk outs beginning to raise a flag in your mind.

“Work thing, gotta go.” When his phone buzzed as your heads had just hit the pillows.

“My brother needs me.” Two minutes into the TV show you watched together weekly.

“I have a thing to do.” When you were about to be that thing.

Jason went out of his way to make it up to you, finding alternate times to see and spend time with you, leaving you far more curious than upset.

The curiosity increased when you noticed the influx of injuries he’d have after a night of cancelled plans. The dots didn’t begin to consciously connect until Jason had walked out on your movie night early, a murmured “work errand, sorry.” Leaving his lips as he parted.

You were more concerned than anything, he’d been wanting to watch Pride & Prejudice with you for weeks after you’d read the book together; a re-read for him and a first for you, only to leave half an hour in?

Your thoughts roamed as you snuggled into the hoodie, he’d purchased solely for you to steal, burrowing into the blankets on your couch and settling in for the new plan of a night to yourself. You wondered what errand could be so important to need urgent tending to. Maybe you’d ask Jason later, maybe you’d finally get your curiosities quenched.

You’d just gotten comfortable, pulling out a project you’d been working on for fun and throwing the news on in the background when a story caught your attention.

“Red Hood takes mustard gun to the face. Fresh off an Arkham Asylum breakout this evening, Condiment King stood off against Crime Alley’s very own Red Hood. It seems to have been Condiment King’s lucky day as he managed a hit on the rehabilitated crime lord, launching mustard directly at the so called “eyes” of his helmet. That’s bound to leave one hot dog of a bruise if you ask me.”

You rolled your eyes as you processed the pun, it felt in poor taste given how much worse the situation could have been, especially if Red Hood had been without his helmet. The idea made you frown. You’d found yourself with a soft spot towards the vigilantes of Gotham for years, but along the way Red Hood had become your favorite.

You admired what he stood for, the protection he offered women and children, the way he was willing to offer it no matter the cost. The other vigilantes seemed more black and white, you respected that Red Hood appeared to often understand the world was gray.

You zoned back into the TV, focusing again on the reporter’s words.

“Witnesses reported Nightwing ketching up to the scene shortly after, promptly taking down Condiment King and assuring he won’t be able to a salt anyone again anytime soon.”

You groaned, turning channels so you wouldn’t have to listen anymore to the attempts at making crime more lighthearted.

The night passed rather calmly for you, but the same could not be said of the streets. Checking social media and news sites revealed the Arkham breakout was much larger than merely Condiment King.

And as you realized multiple heavy hitters were loose, you sent out a quiet prayer to whoever was listening that your city and its protectors would remain safe.

Jason needed to see you.

Adrenaline left his body wired, hands trembling and breaths labored. The night had been harsh to them all. Rogues left and right hellbent on freedom and destruction. Every Bat had taken far more hits than preferred throughout the night, but they prevailed without serious injury. Somehow luck was on their side with a swift recapture.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t frazzled.

Going from a peaceful night in; snuggling his sweetheart, to getting two black eyes from fuckin’ Condiment King of all people was bound to leave a man off-kilter. Especially when the ante of it all was only upped from there. A night’s full of adrenaline catching up to him as the morning latened.

Exhaustion ran bone deep, his knocks on your door muddled as if his blood had turned to molasses. The rush that got him through being patched up and taking a shower drained from his body and left Jason half asleep on your doorstep.

He leaned against the frame, eyes blinking slowly as he heard the lock click before the door opened.

“Baby?” There it was, confused voice still dripping gentle honey as your eyes met his.

He was fading fast, Jason knew he’d be unconscious in minutes, but that was okay. He had proof that you were safe, and that was all he needed.

You took Jason’s arm, guiding him inside and towards your bed. You’d seen him tired plenty of times, but never quite like this. This was exhaustion. His movements slow like you were trudging through quicksand, every step heavy as though the second you stopped moving, he’d begin to sink.

It was worrisome. Clearly, his job was burning him out or something worse. You’d noticed the redness under his eyes, the way they were swelling in what would surely become two black eyes. What happened to him last night?

Oh god.

As you moved the blankets on your bed to open a space for him, your mind was stuck on an awful thought. What if he’d been caught in the Arkham attacks?

Pushing Jason into place on your mattress was more than easy, once the opening was created a soft wind could’ve blown him down. He collapsed into the plushness, face immediately buried in your pillow and body going lax. It would’ve made you chuckle if you weren’t so worried.

You removed his shoes before covering him with the blankets, tucking the sides in to secure him. Sitting beside him on the bed’s edge, you lifted a hand to run through his hair, delicately untangling any small knots and lightly scratching his scalp.

A shaky breath left your lips, watery eyes locked on where Jason’s chest rose and fell. You could see he’d had a night, but he’d survived that night. He was here. he was safe. You just needed to get your anxiety to catch up with reality.

You watched him sleep for half an hour before your body regulated, your heartrate lowering and allowing your mind to clear now that the fear was dissipating.

Your fingers finally left his hair, trailing down to lightly caress over the side of his face that’d emerged from the pillow. Hovering over the swelling under his eye your brain whispered what happened, Jay?

Did someone hit you? Why? How?

A nugget of information from the previous night floated to the foreground. There was someone you knew had gotten hit in the eyes last night.

Red Hood.

Your hand slowly retreated, lowering to a stilted rest on his shoulder. It. It was absurd, wasn’t it?

Except.

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand nearest you, opening the internet and searching ‘Red Hood.’ Your hand left Jason’s body as you frantically searched at length, looking for evidence. The builds were damn near the same, Red Hood seemed only the slightest bulkier, your guess was an armor-padded suit. Articles highlighting injuries he’d received in the recent past aligned with nights he’d rushed away from you.

And the most damning. A picture someone had managed to get of him without his helmet.

He still wore a mask, but even in a far and grainy picture you’d recognize the love of your life’s face anywhere.

Jason Todd was the Red Hood.

You locked your phone, not wanting to stare at the image anymore and turned your gaze to Jason. You expected fear to roll in, knowledge fresh of some of the brutality he’d committed, but the longer you looked at Jason the more your shock calmed.

He was a hero. A statement you figured he’d argue, but that’s how you’d felt about Red Hood for ages. Sure, his methods were unorthodox especially when he first debuted in Gotham, but he’d been trying to better the city every step of his way. He stood up for the underdogs, for Park Row and everyone in it that were constantly overlooked.

You knew firsthand how much it needed that. Park Row, Crime Alley had been your home for a spell of time. The first ten years of your life had been spent struggling there. At your youngest and most vulnerable, you learned that life wasn’t always fair. Life wouldn’t always give people what they deserved, not when the cards were stacked against them.

Park Row needed help, it needed a protector. It needed someone who would stand up and fight for and in it, that never seemed up Batman’s alley.

But Red Hood? Red Hood was doing what needed to be done. Jason was doing what needed to be done.

Heavens, he must be so tired, so unappreciated. Even if his methods seem to have calmed since the start, reports on him still labeled him as more violent than the rest of the Bats, treated him as more of a threat and a borderline villain at times. Like he was a ticking time-bomb.

A frown twisted your mouth, disappointment setting in that others couldn’t see how wonderful your vigilante was. The shift to determination was easy, you’d just have to show him how appreciated he was.

Jason woke up in darkness, disorienting him until his eyes adjusted to the surroundings. The weight of the comforter on him as familiar as the plushness of the pillow, your scent wrapped around him more fully than the blankets.

He turned his head to the walls, pictures and posters of the things you love adorning them. A soft smile graced his lips, he was in your room, he was okay, he was safe. His eyes trailed along to the window, wanting to peek out and gauge the time of day. He was met with confusion as he saw a blanket pinned to the wall over it, blocking out most all the light.

Jason lingered on the detail only a moment more before he sat up. He was in your room, where were you? He stretched as he stood, making his way out of the dark room and further into your apartment. The soft tones of you singing led him easily to you in the kitchen.

“Good evening, sleepyhead.” You greeted over your shoulder, hands in the sink as you washed dishes, your tone was playful, but there was a glint in your eye he couldn’t quite place.

“It’s evening?” His eyes flitted to the clock on the microwave, just after 6 pm. “Wasn’t sure with the makeshift blackout curtain.” He raised a brow.

You looked away, but Jason came closer, spotting the blush on your cheeks.

“I just wanted to make sure you were able to rest properly; my curtains didn’t make it dark enough.”

The words came out sweet and simple. An easy care in them that had Jason’s cheeks reddening too. Your thoughtfulness never failed to make him flustered, knocking him giddy and disbelieving of what he’d done to deserve you.

“Dinner will be done soon, too.” Jason recognized an out when he saw one, you were giving him the room not to reply directly to being taken care of, he appreciated it.

He stepped closer, arms wrapping around your waist and leaning his head onto your shoulder.

“Thank you.” It was weighted with everything he could be grateful for. When you let him in this morning and put him to bed, when you chose to care for him instead of making him feel like shit for leaving you, you cooking for him now and continuing to be kind.

“Anything for you.” As you settled back into him, leaning your weight on him, Jason had no idea how deep that promise would run.

It’d been a month since you’d discovered Jason’s secret. A month of showing him extra kindness, understanding, and appreciation. You were content to wait to talk about his vigilantism with him until he was comfortable sharing with you. You were letting your actions speak louder than your words anyhow.

Making sure to give him praise on his character whenever he was around.

“You have such a beautiful heart, Jay.” Said with a sincerity that threatened tears in the right moment.

“Your mind is incredible, you’re so intelligent.” Said with an awe that spoke of true wonder.

“You’re such a good man, Jason.” A promise, a vow of the truth the statement held for you.

Making sure to care for him through blankets draped over him in his vulnerable states, enveloping him in the softness the outside world never would.

Making sure to keep him well fed, showing your love through recipes passed down and long since mastered by your family.

The final action that spoke of your empathy though was one utilized when Jason wasn’t around. You were helping cover for him. Disappearances made around your friends were easy for you to excuse. When he gave you an apologetic kiss and uttered to the group an “it’s work, I’m sorry,” you’d follow up with “he has a highly demanding job, I’m so impressed by how much of himself he gives.” Your confidence and understanding kept people’s opinions of him high, your appreciation seeping into the roots of their minds the more you spoke tenderly of him; to help people see him as you saw him.

All in all, it’d been a great month of loving your boyfriend.

Jason was going to burst. Anxiety filling him to the seams as he came to terms with what he’d need to do. He had to confront your relationship problems. Trying to figure out when all this good would be ripped away was eating at him like termites in the wooden home of his brain.

All the praise, the home cooked meals, the soft blankets and somehow even softer greetings. The gentleness of your touch, like you thought he deserved to be held as something delicate. It was all too good to be true.

Something had to be wrong. This was the calm before some sort of storm. Overcompensation for how badly you wished to break up, maybe. Jason couldn’t fathom another explanation for why you’d be treating him like this. Like something precious.

The cruelty of whatever joke this was had self-doubt eating him alive. Itching beneath his skin and clawing its way out of him.

“What’s wrong with us?” Jason blurted one night, watching you make a pot pie crust from scratch, you’d been prepping dinner for at least an hour and a half while he simmered and stewed with anxiety. His eyes were locked on your hands, covered in flour and dough as you pressed the crust into your desired shape.

“I mean we’re a little strange as people, but I wouldn’t say anything otherwise.” Your lighthearted tone, still focused on the diligent work at your hands, did nothing to ease his worries.

“No. What’s wrong?”

The plea in his voice had you turning to look at him. His eyes were swimming with desperation; a broken shine to them that made you frown in concern.

“Jay? What’s this about? I don’t think anything’s wrong, but I don’t believe you’d ask unless you thought there was.” Your hands were rinsed and wiped on a dish towel as you stepped closer to him and there it was again, that empathetic lilt to your being that made him feel so undeserving.

The anxiety in his skin bubbled, a cauldron overflowing and exceeding containment, spilling over until no more was left inside. Every ounce of fear and worry splashed around him, rolling out in waves.

“I don’t deserve this.” Rushed words, a harsh admission in light of your softness.

“What do you mean?” Jason took a step back as you took one closer, he couldn’t let you touch him right now. Not when you’d slip in his mess and get swept away by the current, never to be seen again. You paused before moving back half a step, Jason found himself simultaneously weighed down by guilt and able to breathe easier.

“I don’t... This is all too nice. You are too nice. All this care and consideration, it’s wasted on me. Why are you being so fucking good to me?” His hand flew into his hair, tugging at the strands as he tried to let the pain ground him enough to suck in a deep breath.

“Jay, baby. You deserve all the good the world has to offer.”

“I DON’T! How can that possibly be true? The things I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt. You don’t know. That’s how you can be so fucking kind to me, because you don’t know what I’m hiding.”

You nodded, seemingly undeterred by the panic Jason knew he was getting lost in.

“Okay. So, tell me? I bet you I can still find kindness to give no matter what secrets may unfold.”

That gave him pause. If anyone could look past what he’d done, it probably would be you. Hell, his family had forgiven and accepted him, and you hadn’t been through an eighth of the shit he put them through.

“I’m. I’ve hurt people. I’ve done some ugly things, some I’m not proud of and worse, some that I am. Are you sure you want to know?” He needed to hear you choose this, choose him, his truth.

“Tell me. Please.” It sounded more reassuring than afraid.

“I’m the Red Hood.” As the words left Jason’s lips, he looked down to the floor. He couldn’t face the look in your eyes yet, the horror that he might find in them. The disappointment as you realized your boyfriend was a murderer.

“Thank you for telling me.” That... didn’t sound horrified? It was almost... daresay, proud?

Jason hesitantly lifted his gaze to your form, watching you turn back around, fingers dancing as they always did when you considered the next step in your cooking, a soothing hum befalling your lips.

“That’s it?” That couldn’t possibly be the only reaction you had. He was expecting tears and anger and distrust. Even the worst case, being kicked out and never spoken to again, losing you entirely in the wake of this revelation.

You faced him again and Jason stilled as he saw the peaceful look on your face, posture relaxed and no less welcoming than it’d been before. With the light hitting just right, there was an air of relief as well. It was as though nothing had changed. As though this information... wasn’t... new...

Oh.

“You knew.” Not a question, a fact.

He watched as a guilty smile graced your lips, your legs shuffling where you stood and a breath of nervous laughter left your mouth.

“Maybe a little.” The admission felt both damning and relieving.

“I- What? How?”

“Maybe we sit down for this one? I get the feeling your emotions are awfully overwhelming right now.” You started to walk to the living room, making grabby hands behind you to get him to follow. Jason’s lips upturned at the cute habit, steps aligning with yours as he geared up for this conversation.

You placed yourself on one end of the couch, giving Jason the option of space if he still needed. He sat further than when he joined you for comfort, but within arm’s reach which was progress from the kitchen. You took a deep breath and began to explain.

“Okay, so it was about a month ago, when you got injured by the mustard gun. You came over the morning after, exhausted and worried about me, which just had me worrying about you, so I got to more thinking than usual, and it started to connect.”

“The way you frequently disappear at night and leave our plans, the injuries you end up with and the lack of explanation you tend to have for them. I thought for a minute that you were being abused at work. I suppose I wasn’t exactly wrong.” The laugh that left your lips came with a disbelieving head shake.

“I started looking deeper into the vigilantes of Gotham, well, just Red Hood. He was the only one I needed to look at that morning. Once I had pictures, it was all too easy to recognize the man I love. I could recognize you anywhere. I could recognize you by touch alone, by smell; I would know you blind, by the way your breaths came, and your feet struck the earth. I would know you in death, at the end of the world.”

You watched Jason’s eyes light up, some of his anxiety melting away at the familiar quote from a book you knew he favored despite the tears it’d brought you both.

“You don’t have a problem with that though? My identity? The crimes I commit, the lives I’ve taken, the families I’ve destroyed.” His voice trailed off at the end, quieter as shame clouded his gaze. Beneath it there was a desperation that screamed of a little boy’s fear. A young one’s need to be accepted with open arms and loved unconditionally.

“Jason, my love. You’re a hero. You have done more to save this city than I’m sure anyone gives you credit for. I don’t have a single problem with what you do nor what you’ve done to look out for our city, our home. You’ve been cleaning up in the ways you felt were needed. How could I fault you for that?” Your eyes locked with his, hands coming up to cup his face and reaffirm how genuine your words were.

“I love you. I love what you stand for. I appreciate you. I appreciate everything you do, everything you are, and everything you will ever be.” You promised.

For a moment, Jason sat frozen, looking at you as though his whole world view was changing before his eyes. Given his earlier insecurities, it very well may have been.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew?” A whispered curiosity uttered after moments of silence.

“I was waiting until you were ready. It wasn’t my secret to force out of you. I figured you’d share eventually, and until then I just wanted to care for you. I wanted someone to show you some damn appreciation, and I was more than content with that being me. That’s why I’ve been doing more for you, because you deserve it with all the hard work you do to clean this city up and keep her safe.” Your thumb stroked over his cheekbone, your touch matching the ease of your words.

Your head tilted slightly; lips downturned as you continued to speak. “I’m sorry my behavior left you so uneasy, it was never my intent for my compassion to scare you.”

In the seconds of quiet after, your heart rate picked up, this was going to be it huh? The moment when yet another partner confessed you were “too much.” That your affections were overbearing, your intensity frightening and something they weren’t willing to match. That it’d be better if this ended.

You’d accept Jason’s will if it were the case. You’d let your heart be sliced open, bleeding out from every cut so long as it would make him happy.

You moved to pull your hands from his face, feeling as though your permission was already being revoked. He caught them with his own, holding them sweetly.

“It wasn’t that it scared me. You could never scare me. It was that... It felt far too good to be true. I have a hard time believing that good things can happen to me without being ripped away.” Jason’s admission made your heart ache, longing for him to receive only the best from the world and to know that he deserved it.

“Jay...” He released hold of you to briefly put one hand up, asking you silently to wait a moment before speaking. When you kept quiet, he returned to his full hold on you. The light grip reassuring and soothing while you anticipated his next words.

“Sweetheart, you are the best thing that has happened to me in this and any lifetime. I am terrified of losing you, that’s what I’m scared of. I don’t want you to be ripped away like so many things I’ve tried to love before, and I don’t want you to leave. I fear that I would not survive a world where I no longer had you in my life. That’s where my panic came from, that’s why I was afraid to reveal my identity. I didn’t want to lose you.” Vulnerable eyes turned down to look at your combined hands. The feeling of his thumbs soothing over your skin providing as much assurance as his words.

You waited a handful of extra breaths to see if he had more to say, but it seemed no further words were making themselves known.

“You are the love of all my lives, Jason Todd. I’ll be here for as long as you let me.”

“That could be a long time, ya know?”

“I’m counting on it.”

Snuggled against Jason’s chest on the couch, dinner long since forgotten, a thought came to mind.

“So, you’re the Red Hood.”

“We’ve covered that, yes.”

You gave him a light nudge with your shoulder. “Hush.”

A brief chuckle before his lips pressed atop your head.

“So, you’re Red Hood. I know you work closely with the rest of the Bats, and you wouldn’t work closely with people you didn’t trust, not on this. You only trust a handful of people beyond me, and I know I’m not a vigilante. Since you’re all Gotham based, they must be around here too. The only people in the state that you trust are your family. Ergo, the rest of the Bats are the other Waynes, no?”

“And they call Batman the “world’s greatest detective.”

“Holy crap, that means they call Bruce that. Brucie Wayne the greatest detective. Oh my god.” You sat up, turning to face him with excitement.

“Hang on, I didn’t confirm your theory.”

“You didn’t deny it either!” Your finger pointed in his face, Jason leaning in to nip at it and making you both laugh.

“Don’t distract me! I’m totally right!”

“No comment.”

You leaned over to reach for your phone on the coffee table, Jason gripping your free arm to keep you from toppling over in your excitement. You smiled appreciatively at him before doing an image search on Gotham’s vigilantes. Looking closely at the pictures with what you knew only solidified your belief that much further.

“Would you... want to meet them?”

Your gaze snapped from the phone to look at Jason’s face, a nervous smile graced his lips, and his eye contact wavered as he waited for you to process.

“You want me to meet the Bats?” A light test of the waters, dipping your toe in.

“I want you to meet my family.” A hand taking yours, pulling you further in with a promise of security.

“Same thing.” A grin born of playfulness and safety.

“I’d love nothing more, Jay.” Left your lips whispered, excitement so encapsulating that it need be forced into something serene lest it overtake your entire being. Jason nodded, like he understood how deeply you were feeling before pulling you into a kiss. The unspoken words the kiss provided promised that he did, in fact, understand.

And the deeper the kiss found itself, the more it felt like an oath he always would.

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daycourtofficial · 2 months ago

Text

Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one - part seven

Pairing: Eris x Azriel x reader | WC: 5.9k | warnings: SMUT, piv, fingering, cheating?, light choking, creampie

Summary: Azriel’s promise to be more attentive is proving true. When he wants to take you back to where it all started, what happens when there’s someone unexpected in his stead?

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You winnowed to the cabin, the sight of it different now that it was daylight and the history of the journals was within you. You still hadn’t read the most recent ones, not quite brave enough to read Azriel’s perspective on meeting you.

You would get to them. Eventually.

It had been a few days since Azriel showed up at your bedside, sad puppy eyes convincing you he could make this work somehow. So far he had been true to his word, spending several hours a day with you. He had been bringing flowers and pastries to your room every day, sitting with you and having coffee every morning. He ate every meal with you in your room those first two days.

Each day he opened up about some part of him that wasn’t in the journals: his mother, his spymaster duties, his role in the Inner Circle.

It wasn’t all tragedy or bad feelings, though. He told you stories from growing up with Rhys and Cassian to even telling you his strategies for this year’s snowball fight.

Then you two began eating out around Velaris, a variety of cuisine that filled your belly and your heart. He had always been easy company, your tongue loose and heart bursting whenever you were with him.

It was nice. It reminded you of the before. Before telling Azriel he was your mate, before even knowing he was your mate. When things were simpler and easy.

Whenever his attention strayed from you, leaving you alone, your worries found you, wondering how long this attentiveness would last. Was he truly as sorry as he said? Or was this just to placate you long enough so he could slack off again?

You were open to his attention, his time, his company, but you always felt ready for it to be gone in an instant, never truly letting yourself relax. The one joy you have from if the worst happens is knowing that Nesta would cut Azriel into bite sized pieces for breaking your heart, and then she’d let the other Valkyries at him.

Madja had cleared you yesterday to return to normal, as long as you promised you’d be getting enough sleep and not overexerting yourself. She had lectured you for roughly an hour each day of your recovery, mad and upset one of her healers would be in this position.

To rejoice in Madja’s clearance, Azriel had asked if you had any plans today before running off on a ‘secret errand’. No one had seen him the rest of the day, allowing you time to eat with Nesta and Cassian, the former of which would glance at you every few minutes before pointedly looking at the wall clock.

Tick tock.

This morning you woke up to a bouquet of flowers on your night stand - brilliant shades of black and blue in a beautiful bundle. Some of them only grew in the upper most regions of Illyria. Had that been his secret errand? Retrieving rare and coveted flowers for you?

The card attached to the bouquet had been brief.

‘Come to the cabin by noon. Let’s have a quiet afternoon to show my appreciation.

Love, Az’

You reached the cabin door, unsure if you should knock or just go in. You had left the House of Wind early this morning, stopping in a field to pick flowers, wanting to return the favor. The bouquet was clutched in your hands, a silly notion of making Azriel a flower crown in the back of your mind. You stood outside for a moment, debating your options, until you swore you felt a nudge at your back. The momentum was enough - it brought your hand up, turning the knob to find it unlocked.

You pushed the door open, a smile on your face as excitement bubbled to see Azriel. The smile quickly faded, replaced with something between shock and a grimace. Just like that night all those weeks ago, Eris stood in the kitchen, back to you, his long hair tied back with a leather strop. He wasn’t cooking, but he had two mugs prepared in front of him, the aroma of coffee and tea blending together nicely.

You blinked several times, amazed you found yourself here, again. With Eris, again.

“Are you just going to stare at me or are you going to tell me what you are doing here?” He didn’t turn around, didn’t move at all. You half thought you imagined his voice until he clanked a spoon against his cup.

“What I’m doing here? Azriel asked me to be here.” Indignation colored your tone, unable to overcome the shock of finding Eris here.

“Azriel said he’d be here by noon.” As if his words reminded it, the grandfather clock chimed through the cabin, twelve strikes of the bell bouncing through the silence. He finally turned to look at you, a determined look in his eye, like if he squinted hard enough you’d grow bat-like wings and become a tall, hot Illyrian.

“Where is he?” You muttered, waiting for the door to open. You didn’t want to be stuck with Eris for too long without Azriel to run interference. The cabin was quiet as the two of you avoided looking at each other, an awkwardness that had you bouncing your leg.

At ten minutes past, Eris threw the towel onto the counter, stomping to the front door of the cabin. He grabbed the knob, trying to yank the door open, as if he could conjure Azriel himself, but the door didn’t budge.

“Damned thing.” He strained again, pulling harder, his forearms bulging with the action. He pressed his foot up to the wall for leverage, but the door still didn’t budge. A few shadows wove their way around the knob, gently trying to pry Eris’s fingers from it.

“Mother’s sake.” Eris gave a frustrated sigh before dropping the knob, turning to look at the bouquet that sat on the counter. It had looked just like the one Azriel had dropped off in your room this morning, not even noticing it once you had seen Eris.

“Do whatever it takes to have some common ground and like each other.” The words came from Eris, but he mocked Azriel’s intonation, the words likely from his own personalized note. “Bastardous male locking us in here.”

He strode back into the kitchen, a bottle of something dark materializing in his hand. He poured several generous shots into his cup, the smell causing your face to shrivel.

He didn’t touch the other mug, the steam finally having settled enough for someone to enjoy it.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the only sound Eris draining his mug dry. Eventually you grew bored and crossed the room, standing next to him. You grabbed Azriel’s mug, grimacing at it before adding cream and sugar to it. You felt Eris’s eyes watching you, critiquing every movement you made.

“Why do you think you’re an equal to me?” Eris was the first to speak up, his voice nearly causing you to drop the mug from your hands.

“I beg your pardon.” Out of the corner of your eye you watched him pour more of the alcohol, whiskey probably, into his mug.

“Then beg.”

You stood there, staring blankly at him. How did Azriel put up with this male, much less love him and want to see him? He was an arrogant ass, treating you as if you caused this situation?

His long fingers met your eye line, snapping directly in front of you. “Are you dim? Why do you think you deserve his coffee, much less him?”

“Am I dim?” You felt two steps behind in this conversation, hating how inferior Eris was making you feel through all of this. You needed to get leverage, get ahead of him or outsmart him somehow.

“Are you going to repeat everything I ask you? I’ll tire of that so quickly, I’d prefer to write my questions down so you can sound them out yourself, assuming you can read at a high enough level.”

“I can read just fine.” The coffee was still a bit too warm to drink, but you cradled your hands around it, allowing the warmth to bring more fight back into you.

“You never know with the Night Court. Perhaps illiteracy is contagious and your High Lady is the beginning of it.” The mention of Feyre so casually had you squinting at him, trying to figure out if he truly thought so low of you or was just lashing out at whoever popped into his head.

“If you hate the Night Court so much, why be mated to someone from there?”

“Even broken clocks are right twice a day.”

“That would mean there’s someone else in Night worthy of your time.”

Pride surged through you at besting him, the redhead scoffing before finishing his tea that was more alcohol than tea at this point. You sipped on Azriel’s coffee, the taste different from the coffee in Velaris. It was stronger, even with your added cream and sugar. It had a vague pumpkin aftertaste, just a hint of sweetness you knew Azriel secretly liked.

“Why do you think you are better suited for Azriel than I am?” You had wondered this whole time how Eris viewed his relationship with Azriel - everyone around you described him as a monster, incapable of love or feeling. You had the shadowsinger’s side, and now you wanted his supposed other half’s.

“I can handle his ire. He can take it out on me. I can handle him. His darkness, his violent tendencies, his anger. I’m more of his equal than you are.” Eris had turned his full attention to you, his mug now on the counter as he snapped at you. Ranting and raving, it’d be easy to confuse him with a mad male.

Love teetered that line of sanity and madness, you supposed.

“He could do the same with me.”

“Has he? Have you seen him angry? Have you seen him in the pits of despair?”

You pursed your lips, annoyed he was somewhat right. In the times you had seen Azriel at his worst, he was quick to hide himself away, never allowing you to help lick his wounds for long. Now you realized it was to see the male before you.

“Maybe I’m his equal in other ways.”

“You certainly are equal to him in being a pain in my ass these days.” They were muttered, but you knew he spoke loud enough to ensure you would hear it.

“Diplomacy isn’t your strong suit.”

“It isn’t Azriel’s either.”

“I’m quite good at it, and perhaps that’s why we were mated. Equals doesn’t mean we’re the same person. It means we balance each other out.” You pulled a flower from your bouquet, handing it to Eris. He doesn’t reach for it, only moving his head to look at you in confusion.

“What is this?”

“A flower. It’s a pretty plant that grows and fae enjoy receiving them as gifts.” He only rolled his eyes, crossing his arms at your response.

“I have a bouquet.”

“Azriel told us to play nice. I’m being nice and diplomatic. I’m giving you a flower.”

“From a bouquet you were going to give to my mate.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand and putting the flower into it. “There. What you do with it now is up to you.”

You had finished your coffee by then, moving around Eris to wash it in the sink. Despite how painful it was to speak to him, you couldn’t seem to make yourself stop. Every pause in conversation needed to be filled by something. You wanted his voice to fill the silences, to know more about him, and maybe to prove to him that you’re more than he thinks you are.

“You’re not as mean as you want people to think you are.” You weren’t sure why it came out as a whisper, as if it was some truth that could only be acknowledged in hushed voices and soft tones.

“You have met me three times and think you know everything now.” He turned away from you, peering out of the kitchen window, watching the wind blow the trees outside.

“You helped me. When I was healing Az, you helped me. That wasn’t mean.”

“I did no such thing.”

“You hated me and you helped me.”

“You would have killed yourself saving him. Azriel would have been miserable. I was saving him from heartache.”

You watched Eris’s back tense ever so slightly, preparing himself for the conversation to continue. You let the words settle, let them reach every corner of the room, let Eris relax again before responding.

“Hm. Killing yourself to save someone you love. Sounds an awful lot like Azriel, no?”

Even from behind you watched his jaw ticked and his back stiffen, at being outsmarted or over how well you knew Azriel, you weren’t sure. To best Eris Vanserra in a verbal sparring match not once but twice in such a short time was something to truly brag to Azriel about later.

“You don’t have to lie to me. You can say you were being nice.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” You stayed quiet, only watching him before he sighed. “Fine, if you don’t consider a half-truth a lie.”

A beat passed, accepting that that was all you would get from Eris on the subject.

“Thank you. Even if it was to spare Azriel from pain, it spared me from some, too.”

He didn’t say anything, only moved through the cupboards, searching for something. It only took a moment until he pulled out a sleeve of chocolate, unwrapping the foil and popping a bit into his mouth. Your stomach rumbled at the rich, slightly earthy scent, practically tasting it on your tongue. In your excitement to see Azriel, to pick him a bouquet, you had forgotten to eat anything other than a piece of fruit you had taken with you out the door. You were practically salivating at the scent.

“Get your own.”

“I didn’t think to prepare food.” You expected to meet Azriel here, for him to prepare the two of you food. Which would get a bit complicated with the mating bond, you supposed. You regret not grabbing some granola or more fruit.

“Then I guess you should leave or forage in the woods. Maybe get lost or maimed by pigeons while you’re at it.” You’re not sure why this is what set you off - he had said much worse to you earlier. But something shifted in you, a sudden spike of anger coursing through you. Your mouth started moving before you could even think.

“You are truly insufferable. I could think of a thousand males I’d prefer my mate to be mated to over you.” The words were all bite with no truth behind them. Beneath it all, you truly couldn’t picture any male measuring up to the one before you, aside from the male tethered to your chest who had locked the two of you in here. Eris was insufferable, but something inside of you kept pulling you toward him.

“I could say the same for you. In fact, I could list them out now, list how you fall short compared to them. Maybe then you’ll understand.” He popped a bit of the chocolate in his mouth, the bitter smell heightening your ire.

“You’ve never had a nice word to say in your life, Eris, so why start now?”

Eris’s smirk was equal parts infuriating and maddening. It was criminal how perfect the smirk looked on his face, bringing out a light in his eyes you hadn’t seen before.

“You want to hear pretty words from my mouth?”

“Yes, because I’m sure the action would cause your tongue to rot off.”

“You want nice? You can’t handle the harsh edges of me, but they’re the reality. You want the soft, round edges Azriel wants you to see, not the jagged edges he truly is.”

His words pricked at you, gnawing on your bones and unrelenting as the pain radiated through you. Maybe it was instinct, the bond deep inside of you growing frustrated at the idea that Azriel wasn’t yours, but something inside of you snapped. Some dam burst, all of your pent up rage and anger spewing out in the hopes of catching Eris in the floodwaters.

“You think that’s nice?”

He only shrugged, unbothered by your sharp tone.

“It had to be said.”

“Yes, well for things that had to be said, my very existence threatens your mating because you’re too insecure to try to get to know me. You worry about Azriel wanting me because I’m more likeable and palatable as a mate than you are. And if you had to get to know me, you couldn’t write me off any longer.” You gave him a withering stare, watching to see how your words would affect him. He didn’t even flinch, but somehow you knew your words struck a chord with him.

“I know you well enough, I don’t have to see more.”

“Really? Tell me anything about me.”

“You taste like raspberry and mint.”

“I do not.” His only response was a quirked eyebrow. “A past lover once told me I tasted like chocolate and the sea.”

“They lied to you, whoever it was. The sea? Ridiculous. I’d tell you the truth.” Eris had a more jovial tone, something with a slight competitive edge to it. The air had shifted, some levity to the air.

“You’ve lied to me before.”

He was closer now, looking down at you over his button nose. It should have intimated you, should have made you want to cower or put your head in the sand.

“Have I?” You stared at each other, neither of you backing down. Eris made your head spin, conversing with him like a tornado you easily got swept up in.

“I bet you taste like deceit and smoke.” His lips were millimeters from your own, his nose nearly brushing against yours. The scent of chocolate mingled in the air in between you two.

“Want to find out why Azriel would prefer the taste of me?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me to find out your tongue is why Azriel has stood at your side for so long.”

Those words set Eris off, his hips making the first contact, pressing you into the counter. His lips followed quickly, meeting yours in a flare of passion you had never experienced before.

He was warm and tender, the kiss full of need. He bit your bottom lip, quickly swiping his tongue across as a soothing balm. It was much easier than you wanted to admit to get lost in his touch. He was intoxicating and all consuming.

You understood now why Azriel wrote journal after journal about him. The Vanserra was insufferable, annoying, arrogant, and a whole list of adjectives curated to drive you mad. But his hands were holding your hips into place, clutching as if he never wanted to let go.

Eris pulled away, a soft whine coming from you as he did so. He didn’t part far - just an inch or two, but it felt like a mountain separated the two of you.

“Feels strange. You’re much smaller than he is with no wings to accommodate for.”

“I’d imagine they can be quite annoying.”

He pulled further away from you, a trail of spit connecting the two of you that he didn’t seem to notice following him. He was too concentrated on analyzing your face, looking over every inch of it.

“You’ve never touched his wings? It’s his favorite part. Surely he would have asked you.”

“Eris, Azriel and I haven’t done anything yet.”

His brows furrowed, your words something too complex for him to understand. One of your hands clutched at his shirt, wanting him to kiss you again.

“What do you mean?” Heat crept your cheeks remembering how close you and Azriel had been that night, how it felt to have him in the room as you bathed. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend the male clutching you was your mate, finishing what you had started in the bathroom all those weeks ago.

“We almost kissed a few weeks ago, but he said no.”

Eris straightened, his hands gripping your face. Amber eyes were searching for something in the features of your face, but you’re not sure if he found it. The scent in the room shifted, something new that smelled smokey and like fresh rain. It practically had your mouth watering, feeling heat pool between your thighs.

“Tell me that again.” Eris’s voice was stern, sounding on the last legs of restraint, his hands tightening their grip around you.

“Um, Azriel drew me a bath and afterward we were sitting around, talking, and we almost kissed but he pulled away. He said he couldn’t do that without your permission.”

Some form of realization struck Eris, his face relaxing before turning up into a smirk. His fingers dug further into your skin, feeling like a marking of his own.

“You kissed me before kissing your own mate.”

His smirk became feline, his eyes alight with some joy you hadn’t yet seen from him. You hadn’t made the realization until the words left his mouth.

You had kissed Eris. And it felt good.

“And I got to kiss my mate’s mate before him.” He continued on, pure delight at the situation coming through his voice.

“Surely a kiss hasn’t changed your world, or are you so inexperienced?” His gaze had wandered off, looking somewhere in the distance, but your words brought him back to you. His eyebrows raised up, a predatory look in his eyes.

“No, but it has been a while since I’ve experienced someone that wasn’t Azriel. He is quite the lover, hard to even consider another once you’ve had him.”

Eris caught your lips once again in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. The bitter taste of chocolate was all consuming. He moved with purpose, as if he could mark every inch of you, explore every inch of you. To gloat perhaps? To mark you as his before Azriel could? You should have stopped it, should have wanted it to end. But you couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the burning desire for the male.

“You haven’t gotten to see all that is Azriel, hm?”

His words were taunting as his fingers quickly pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his pale chest. Freckles littered his skin, dotting him with constellations. You reached a hand out lightly, wanting to lay in bed for hours mapping out every one of them. Your hand gently caressed his skin, wanting to wander down to the waistband of his pants.

Standing in front of you shirtless, he was a gorgeous creature. Some deep part of you knew that seeing him fully nude would be even more divine, a sight reserved for only those truly deserving of such beauty.

“Haven’t gotten to see his cock?”

You moaned into Eris’s mouth as he kissed you again, the only confirmation he needed to keep going. His mouth quirked into an arrogant smirk, his hands gripping tighter. He was certainly leaving bruises, but you didn’t care, you just need more.

“He’s quite pretty undressed. Have you imagined it?” You had seen Azriel shirtless plenty of times - training, in the heat of summer, when he was injured. A few months ago though, he had a cut across his chest and he allowed you to stand in between his legs while you patched it up. Being so close to him had ignited something in you. It made it easier to imagine him in the dead of night, sharing the warmth of his body beneath blankets.

“Do you touch yourself at night, thinking about my mate? Thinking about his cock inside of you?” You didn’t even try to answer him as he pressed his hips into yours, the hard press of his cock through his pants making you speechless. It nearly short circuited your brain, making thinking a luxury you couldn’t afford.

Eris’s hands traveled up your legs, lifting your skirts to the cold air. His long fingers traced the line where skin met fabric, your head dizzy from his touch. His hands gripped your ass, sitting you up on the kitchen counter before standing in between your legs.

“He’s very well endowed, are you sure you could handle it?”

Eris’s hand dipped into your underwear, his finger trailing through your folds as you grinded down onto it, desperate for the friction. His mouth was hot as it kissed down your neck, his teeth baring down eliciting a moan from you. He took his time, his mouth and finger working in tandem to tantalize you.

“Wanna find out?” He tutted at how easily his finger slid inside of you, dripping yet at the mention of your shared mate. He slipped a second finger in amidst your moans, delighting in the arch of your back.

“Think you could take him at his full height? You’ve seen his wing span.”

He sped up his ministrations, his fingers going deep inside you, all the way to his ring, the cold of the metal making you jerk. It was too much, too fast. If you had half your mind with you, you’d be embarrassed by how quickly his words and touch were sending you over the edge. It felt like mere moments since he first kissed you and now the orgasm ripped through you, fast and unexpected. Eris kept the cocky grin on his face as he untied his pants, leaving his fingers inside to let you ride out the wave of pleasure.

The air had now shifted. It felt like this was some sort of race - if he stopped or slowed down he would lose. Flames snuck up your body, their heat fast as they warmed every part of you. He yanked you off the counter, your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist before he threw you onto the bed in the next room.

This room smelled of nothing but Azriel and Eris, their commingled scent nearly suffocating. Your hips started bucking involuntarily at it, and Eris chuckled.

“Have you felt the cold of his shadows?” A new heat pooled as he slid the pants to his ankles, his cock springing free, so angry and red you knew he needed you just as badly as you needed him.

“He’s quite fond of using them to his advantage. He likes having bound partners. Would you like that? Being tied up for him to play with?”

You nodded, but Eris’s hand wrapped around your throat as he lined his cock up to your entrance. You whined, rocking your hips, desperate for him to slide inside you. But he only brushed the head of his cock through your folds, not giving you what you needed.

“Use your words. No need to be coy with me.”

You kept eye contact as he applied light pressure around your neck. The look of arrogance he showed you was nothing more than a mask, his eyes giving away the deep desire buried within him.

“I’d like it.”

“Good.” Eris sheathed himself inside of you, the stretch delicious, like soothing an ache. He pinned your legs to his chest, pressing the two of you impossibly close together. You moaned at how quick he was, the hastiness heightening your desire.

“I despise you, and you despise me. But wouldn’t it kill Azriel to know we were together first?”

His cock felt so good it was hard to make out his words, but you were trying. You were certain he had some retort about being cock stupid on his tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when it felt like this to be in his sheets.

“He’s kept us in the dark this whole time. About time he got his comeuppance.”

Yes. That’s all this was. Revenge. Azriel had wronged the both of you by keeping secrets.

This was nothing more than a ploy to get back at your shared mate. And that’s why each thrust felt incredible.

You nodded, but your eyes stayed on his lips, practically pouting as he looked down at you. It only took a few more thrusts before he grabbed your face again, roughly bringing your lips together.

Eris was so warm. He was the sun, Azriel his moon.

And you were caught during the eclipse.

Having Eris’s undivided attention was intoxicating, you couldn’t even fathom what it would be like to be between the two of them. Moaning into each other’s mouths, Eris grabbed your ass hard enough to leave bruises, bringing you closer to him.

He pushed you further into the bed, Azriel’s scent getting stronger with each thrust. The scent intensified every feeling, heightening that bond in your chest. You waited for any form of guilt to hit you, but it never did.

Instead you felt stronger, bolder, braver with each thrust. The air shifted as you rolled Eris off of you, sitting down onto his cock. As you switched the two of you, you pulled the strop from Eris’s hair, his long hair flowing in a red river on the pillows. Pressing your hands into his chest, you grinded down onto him, delighting in the surprise on his face. It was gone quickly, but you saw it. One of his hands gripped your waist, pushing you down harder. The other hand held your breast, twisting and pinching your nipple. Your back arched, desperate for more of his touch.

Eris’s long hair splayed out on the pillow beneath you, the first time you had ever seen it so disheveled. You grabbed a fistful of his hair at the back of his head, bringing his face up to meet yours. This kiss was more urgent, full of need. You presumed Eris was putting everything he felt towards Azriel into it because you had never felt passion nor urgency like this in bed.

It felt incredible - every thrust of Eris’s cock better than the last, every touch from him heightening your desire. His thrusts started speeding up, the pit in your stomach tightening as you got closer.

You didn’t release his face, kept his mouth on yours as each thrust got sloppier until he moaned into your mouth, finishing inside of you. Hearing his moan was the last push you needed, falling off the precipice into bliss.

You fell off of Eris’s lap, disconnecting your bodies before you laid next to him panting. Air felt like a commodity in the cabin, neither of you getting enough. If you were conscious enough, you would have noticed the movement in the shadows, the soft flick of darkness in the corner by the door. Eventually words came to you, the only thought coming to you from a conversation a few days ago.

“Nesta told me she thought you would be a selfish lover.”

“Am I not?” You looked over at him, the nonchalance of his words and his posture confusing you. Certainly he’d feel some type of way about having sex with someone who wasn’t his mate.

You didn’t even know mated couples could do that. Some naive notion from your childhood perhaps - that mates were all consuming, no one else even registering.

Eris laying next to you was proof enough that that wasn’t true.

“I don’t know.”

Your heart rate started evening out, the world feeling back on its axis, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t bring yourself to get up. The only thing you could do was grab the sheet and put it over yourself.

“What happens when you heal someone?”

His question threw you off guard. A brief flicker of reminder to get more contraceptive tea is filed away in your brain for later.

“They get better.” He scoffed, turning on his side to look at you. He looked genuinely curious, and you weren’t sure what to make of it.

“What happens to you? Can you feel their pain when you do it?”

No one had ever asked you that before. Other fae knew what healers were, but they didn’t really question what it was like to actually use magic to stitch people back together.

“A little.”

“So you felt Azriel’s pain?” Just the reminder of it sent tingles through your body, a ricochet of sympathetic pain. Those arrows had penetrated his chest, slicing multiple organs. Your insides squirmed, the memory a shock for them.

“A little. It lets me know the body. I feel aches and pains, scars tell a story, all that.” It was difficult to explain to someone who had never done it before - weaving skin and tissue back together, as if you were some deity, able to undo the damage inflicted.

“Have you ever tried inflicting pain?”

Now that surprised you. The thought had never crossed your mind, but it’s not surprising it would cross his.

“Like fighting? Not really-“

“No. Your magic heals, but I’ve always wondered if healers could also channel that damage onto someone.”

“Oh!” It was such an interesting idea. If Eris weren’t here, you’d certainly chastise yourself for not thinking of it first, never even considering you could use your magic offensively. “I’ve never tried.”

Eris held out his hand in offering, the fingers that had been inside of you moments ago now stretched out. Your scent was all over them, and you wondered if it would seep into his skin, how long he would smell like the most intimate parts of yourself.

“Is your version of pillow talk just about destruction?”

“Most of the time.”

You didn’t believe him. The thought surprised you - perhaps you’ve spent enough time with Eris, or being mated by proxy, to know when he’s lying. It was such an easy read - how did the others not know, not see?

“Does everything have to be some means to an end or part of a plot?”

“Azriel wasn’t.”

Eris’s voice was full of forlorn and melancholy, as he looked toward the bouquet, lost in some memory or thought. His hand slowly furled into a fist before unfurling, still reaching out. He spoke like a widow at wartime, confusing you more than anything.

If anything, you were the widow at wartime. Azriel’s devotion to Eris had been unwaveringly loyal. You should be the one that was upset.

“Azriel’s the first thing to ever truly be mine.” Eris looked at you, his amber irises glistening. This close up, his pupils look nearly identical to Azriel’s shadows, as if every part of him held some part of his mate. The darkness was so familiar and comforting to you, it was easy to get dragged into its depths, to believe every word he said. “And now that’s not even true.”

His jaw ticked, snapping him back to the present. His fingers interlocked with yours before he squeezed your hand, urging you to do something. You only watched, not saying anything, too afraid to shatter this fragile moment.

“Now, try to hurt me.”

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Author’s note: what are we thinking, how are we feeling about the man of the hour 👀

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel x eris x reader #azriel x reader x eris #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris x reader #eris vanserra fanfiction #eris x you

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mocchii-writes · 4 months ago

Note

can you do a thanos x reader (with slight dae Ho x reader) where they used to date before he became a rapper and did drugs and she’s the only person he ever truly loved. They break up because of the person he becomes and cut contact, seeing each other for the first time at the games. Thanos is keeping up his cool guy persona and flirting in a dickhead way, but then he sees her getting along with dae Ho (who likes her too) that cause thanos to actually be vulnerable with the reader in private, acting like he once was. up to you if you want to make it an angsty or fluffy ending

Well, all the stars would shine a bloody red

Paring: Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x fem!reader, slight Kang Dae-ho x reader

Summary: Seeing Thanos in the games after he changed for the worse, but he sees you too.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Brief mentions of prayer, mentions of drugs, swearing, death, squid game stuff

A/n: grr I'm not good with angst, I'm sorry if this sucks lol. Also, it came out way longer than I expected, so sorry for that ♡

~🍡🍡

The world seems blurry around Thanos. The leaves on the ground are nothing more than a distraction from your face. His heart beats faster as you smile at him, telling him some story he can't remember. The park is nice, a cool breeze ruffling your hair slightly.

His hearing is the first to go, and your voice becomes incomprehensible murmurs as the world slowly darkens and shifts. He can't see you anymore, either, and his vision soon blackens like an exposed film. Soon, the darkness is replaced by blaring lights as he opens his eyes.

Oh.

He sits up, his loose shirt clinging to his damp cold sweat. Why had he dreamt about you? It was so long ago, but he knew he'd never recover. His mattress always feels empty, now. No matter what girl is in it, it's always empty. You were so perfect, how could he have lost you?

It doesn't matter anymore, and he knows it. His life is better now. He just needs to keep saying that until he can wake up and feel like an entire person. But for now, he's just a husk, and he knows it. He'd never admit it, though. He can hardly admit it to himself. He knows he's changed. He wishes he could say for the better, but fame does something to a person. He still remembers that day.

He was high all the time, at clubs or concerts, hardly home, and hardly himself. You had spoken to him a week or two ago, telling him you were worried.

"Please, Su-bong." You had whispered. It was the first time you had gotten to speak to him in a while. "Why are you doing this? Why are you changing so quickly? So harshly?" He thought you were going to cry. So did you. Your hand rests on his arm. But he, for some fucked up reason, brushed you off.

"Chill, man. I'm not changing, I'm living my life. Why can't you just let me? Be happy for me?" He shoves your hand away. "I have a signing soon, see you later," he dismissed you.

That night, though. He should've been able to tell you were different. Your demeanor was cold and dry. But he couldn't even recognize himself, so you expected nothing more. You were sitting on the couch, arms crossed, zoning out into the ceiling. He stumbled in, clearly high off his mind. He had hickeys. You don't care, at this point. You can't remember the last time he even hugged you, but you stopped trying a while ago.

"Hey, Baby," he muttered, taking off his jacket. He walked over and sat next to you, turning on the TV.

"Do you know what day it is?" You calmly asked. You were prepared for this. You already knew what he would say, he didn't even deserve the benefit of the doubt, but you still asked him anyway.

"Happy anniversary." He'd said, dismissively, switching the channel. You scoffed, focusing your eyes on him. You stood, and he looked at you, almost annoyed.

"You're not yourself." You say, biting your lip, trying not to break.

"What? Flower, I thought we were past this." He groaned. You didn't say anything. You just grabbed your phone and walked to the door.

"Talk to me when you can remember my birthday." You said, slamming the door. He didn't comprehend it at the time, passing out after a while.

But he does now.

He can't take it. He lost all his money, unable to blind himself anymore. He rarely dreams of you, but it hurts more each time he does. He was stupid. He is stupid. He's never felt for someone like you since then. He stands, defeated, and heads outside.

He's not proud of what he plans to do, but he is confused when a man in a suit approaches him.

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

You have to squint your eyes to get used to the bright florescent lights in the strange room you find yourself in. You panic, but only briefly, before remembering the Ddakji, the small card, and the ominous car you entered.

You take a moment to assess your situation but don't get very far. There are many different kinds of people around you, seemingly in the same situation. You wear identical tracksuits with different numbers and are surrounded by strategically stacked metal bed frames. You then notice the violin music playing from seemingly nowhere and everywhere, and you finally stand up.

Many people join you as the crowd looks confused. Until a buzzing sound is heard, cutting off the peaceful music, as large doors at the front of the room open, and people in bright pink uniforms walk out. One starts talking about games, money, and lots of things that would normally interest you (or any other sane person), but your attention has drifted elsewhere, your world stopping in its tracks.

It's not like he's difficult to notice. His hair is still that stupid purple, and he still seems to carry himself with a sense of arrogance, but you almost wish you hadn't seen him, as memories come flooding in of the life you still sometimes mourn.

You barely begin to think of him in a positive light before your thoughts are interrupted by his voice, proving your hopes wrong. "What's with these shoes?" You roll your eyes as you watch the back of his head. "My shoes are limited fucking edition, they're hard to find." He whines. "You going to replace them if they get ruined?" Nice to know his priorities haven't changed. Your dread doesn't fade when other people begin asking questions. You almost get on your knees and pray, right there, that he doesn't see you. Instead, you decide to focus on more important matters and listen to the guards' answers.

One particularly whiny guy pushes a little too hard, and his name and number are soon ominously announced by the guard speaking, followed by his debt, age, and history. You refrain from smiling as a video is played on a large screen of him playing Ddakji and presumably losing. More videos are played, thankfully none of you, but there is one of Thanos, sadly without him getting slapped. The pink guard then continues speaking, offering a chance at a better life, or so he says. It's not like you have very many options, though.

The lights turn off as you watch a clear piggy bank lower, grabbing your interest. Even more when a prize of 45.6 billion won is announced. It's not like you have many options. So, when lines are formed, you sign the paper.

Eyes naturally trailing to Thanos, you notice him fussing with the whiner from earlier. You can't hear what they're saying, but you resist the urge to scoff at his immature behavior. He's nothing if not consistent, at least. It is kind of funny, though, watching him be pulled off of the guy.

You get your picture taken, ignoring a flight of fans to Thanos and an embarrassing moment to witness, and are led to an open, sandy area. You see an ominous-looking doll, but your thoughts are interrupted. "The first game is Red Light, Green Light."

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

shit shit shit

What is this psychotic prison? You thought that 456 guy was crazy, high, or something other than honest! You know you don't have much time left. You glance up at the clock as it ticks down.

00:52

Well, fuck. You're going to end up like those people at the start of the game. Just another failure with no money or life dragged away before anyone could remember your name.

You can't distract yourself with that now, though. There are only a few people left (considering there are like 400 in total), and your position at this moment isn't the best. To make things worse, as soon as you hear that devilish singing, you're pushed. Hard.

Your body crashes to the ground, and you feel your leg bruising immediately. You struggle to stand up. You know you can't run anymore. The doll spins its head back around as your mind races.