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#when you do find out he’s been lying and getting hurt on purpose
q1ngqve · 7 months
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OKAY HEAR ME OUT you’re hired by sigewinne as her assistant in meropide and wriothesley fell in love at first sight 😵‍💫ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི he’d injure himself on purpose just to visit the infirmary to see you :( tells you he lost the fights at the pankration ring and you being new, doesn’t know that he is clearly lying, so you bandage him up nicely even adding a cute bow whenever you’re happy!!!!
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mitsouya · 6 months
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you avert your gaze from the book in your hands towards the man who's lying in your lap. it's been a while since childe requested you to sit on the couch and let him use your thighs as his personal pillow, allowing himself to rest after doing some work.
all that can be heard in the office is the pounding of your heart and his steady breathing. as much as you treasure this moment, you can't ignore the rising uneasiness in your mind.
"they will kick your ass if they find out that their favorite harbinger is slacking off."
you break the silence as you rake your fingers through his fluffy hair, ruffling it a bit. he always seems to enjoy the gentle touch of yours which alleviates his fatigue.
"shouldn't you be worried about your position?"
childe opens his eyes slightly only to shut them again, purposely ignoring your piercing glare. "i'm actually quite comfortable in this position, thank you."
with that, he has the nerve to turn his head to face your stomach. he thinks your thighs make for heavenly cushions, and he's very, very sleepy. did you wear the perfume he bought you months ago from his trip to liyue? the fragrance suits you so nicely, he sighs.
"be serious, ajax." you pinch his cheek, eliciting a groan from him. "they will kick me too if they realize i'm being a distraction."
"no one's kicking my wife," he answers firmly, voice a little muffled. "they wouldn't dare. and i'm not their favorite harbinger."
you scoff. obviously. you know they wouldn't hurt you, but it's still entertaining to tease him.
"well, you're certainly my favorite."
when you say it, you're able to sense a surge of pride washing over him. with a quiet i know, he holds your waist more tightly.
"now shut up, darling. i'm trying to get a good nap here."
you shrug and decide to carry on with your reading session, letting him do anything he wants for the time being.
that is, before you whisper, "perhaps the second after arlecchino, though...."
the way his eyes snap open instantly in surprise is hilarious.
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gicosmo · 2 months
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When They Neglect You Pt.2
One Piece Men(Luffy, Shanks, Mihawk, Corazon)
Warnings: Mentions of cheating(In Shanks part), Doflamingo(we all despise him), Just overall angst in Corazon’s part(i’m so sorry)
Part 1: When They Neglect You Pt.1
Luffy
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It’s been a few hours since the battle and now the crew was resting on the ship. You sighed, staring off into the crashing waves. You knew Luffy had his reasons… But it still hurt.
Not being able to stay silent anymore, you walk over to the straw hat captain. He turns around with a small smile, “Hey! Woah– You look upset. What’s up?”
You paused. You already gathered enough courage to go up to him, where was your courage to speak? Luffy blinked a few times before tilting his head, “Uhhh… Are we having a staring contest?” He laughed that adorable laugh you loved.
“Luffy.” You gently get a hold of his hands, which he gladly gives you a small squeeze. You look up at him, finally finding that courage to speak, “Can I be honest about something?”
He nodded quickly, keeping eye contact with you. He gave your hands another gentle squeeze, a sign of reassurance. You smiled before speaking to him,
“I know I might be overreacting… But i’m honestly hurt at the fact we haven’t been spending as much time together. You’ve barely spoken to me, spared me glances, you don’t even eat next to be anymore.” You let out your feelings, looking down at the ground after.
Luffy was silent for a moment. For a second you thought he was upset but that wasn’t the case, “I’m sorry for making you feel that way. Just know that I wasn’t purposely ignoring you. But that doesn’t matter, you’re still hurt.”
He pulled you into a hug, lifting you up and spinning you around with a big smile, “I promise I’ll make it up to you! Just tell me what you want and i’ll make it happen!” Luffy chuckles before planting a soft yet sloppy kiss on your cheek.
“Your love is all I want, Luffy.”
Shanks
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Beckman let out a frustrated sigh. Of course it was up to him to keep his dumb captain in check for yet another stupid decision he had made. Beckman would be lying to himself if he said he wasnt agitated about this whole thing. He signed up to be a pirate, not a couples therapist.
He strolled over to Shanks, pulling him by his shirt and dragging him to the corner, “Woah woah! You putting me in time out?” The red haired pirate laughed, obviously drunk. Beckman clicked his tongue before speaking, “You need to stop being an idiot, Captain.”
Shanks was a bit taken aback by his first mate’s firm tone, “Woah! Someone’s angry! Take a load off, have a drink—”
“Quit being an idiot and start prioritizing your relationship. You’re gonna lose someone great because you can’t act right.” Beckman cut him off, his grip on Shanks’ shoulder tightening a bit. Shanks raised a brow before his eyes widen in realization.
Man. He screwed up… Again.
“Where…?” Shanks’ eyes darted around the room, trying to find you. Beckman rolled his eyes before speaking, “Ran out of the bar when they say you chatting it up with somebody. Seriously, Captain, you’re too grown for that.”
Shanks shook his head, “It wasn’t like that at all! Ahh, shit.” Shanks immediately ran out of the bar, his only goal was to find you.
You weren’t far from the bar. You sat near the deck where the ship was, looking at the stars that brightened the midnight sky.
Shanks let out a sigh of relief when he found you, “Hey, love—” “What do you want, Shanks.” Oh no. You had that ‘Im not taking your bullshit’ tone now. He was in for it for sure.
The red haired man sighed before taking a seat next to you. He looked up at the night sky with you before speaking gently, “Listen. I’m sorry. I know i’ve been—“
“You always do this.” You cut him off, “This isn’t the first time. I doubt it’ll be the last. But damnit can you atleast make me feel like i’m the only one you love?” You glared at him, your gaze intense that it sent shivers down the Yonko’s spine.
Shanks took in your words before nodding, “You are the only one I love—” “Liar. You’re a damn cheater. I saw the way you were looking at them. The way you’re supposed to look at me.” You scoffed, getting ready to get up before his hand gently grabbed yours,
“It isn’t like that at all.” Shanks spoke, his tone almost pleading, begging you to stay. “I promise you, no matter how distant i’ve become I would never ever entertain someone else. I have so much respect and love for you to ever do that.”
You were about to retort, but he immediately cut you off, “Before you chew my ear off, which I rightfully deserve, I just want to say i’m sorry. Believe me when I say I love you with my entire being. I will love you even when you hate me. I’ll beg for your forgiveness, kill someone if need be.”
“Shanks.” You sighed, making the red haired man smile weakly at you. “Listen. I can’t forgive you just yet. Believe me, I want to. But until I see some effort from you, you won’t be getting my forgiveness anytime soon.”
Shanks chuckled, pulling you close and placing a kiss on top of your forehead,
“I don’t care how long it takes. Anything for the one I love.”
Mihawk
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A few hours after your argument, Mihawk felt guilty and took the initiative to apologize. His mood quickly soured once he realized you weren’t in the castle. He checked around the castle two more times, even calling your name to see if you’d answer.
Worry began to set in. You surely couldn’t have went into the forest? Those baboons surely would’ve torn you to pieces by now. He grabbed his sword, hurrying out his home.
A few Humandrills were nearby, making Mihawk stop and speak, “You. Have you seen my lover.” The Humandrills were frozen in place. Of course they wouldn’t be of help, they were terrified of him.
Mihawk rolled his eyes, “Can’t believe I wasted my time talking to a monkey.” He scoffed before walking off, getting on his boat. That when it dawned on him. Your boat was gone.
He gritted his teeth, his mood becoming worse and worse. He had already felt guilty for even letting the argument happen. He felt even worse now that you felt the need to not only leave your home, but to leave the island as well.
It’s been days since he set sail. Where could you have possibly gone? It was driving him mad. His mind wondered every second of the passing days, were you okay? Were you somewhere safe? Did you know how much he truly loved you?
He landed on an island to rest, thoughts of you clouding his mind. He looked around, the island seeming familiar to him. Then it dawned on him. This was your home island. Memories from when you were both starting out your relationship rushed in, making him long for you even more.
After a few moments of silence, it finally clicked that you had a small cottage here. He quickly made his way to your home, wanting nothing more but to see your face.
He made it to your home, seeing the lights were on. He let out a sigh of relief, knowing that you were in there. He knocked on the front door gently, your voice calling from inside. His heartbeat quickened, the sound of your voice bring comfort to him.
The door opened, “Hello! What can I— Oh.” The polite smile you had on your face quickly dropped when you saw him.
There was a moment of silence before you attempted to shut the door, Mihawk immediately stopping the door with his foot, “Please, Love, let me speak with you…”
“Why? So you can tell me i’m nagging again?” You spat, trying to shut the door again. You didn’t even know why you attempted to do that, knowing Mihawk’s strength.
Mihawk gently shook his head, “No. Not at all. I want to apologize. Please…” His voice was soft, almost pleading.
“Just… Let me speak. And you can make your judgement.” Mihawk spoke, a pleading look on his eyes. You sighed, leaving the door alone and giving him the sign to speak.
Mihawk’s gaze was glued to the ground as he spoke, “I’m so sorry. What I did was wrong. Saying that to you was unacceptable, let alone thinking it. Just know that I love you so much, I never want to cause that much hurt again to you. I never want to hurt you at all. I’ll do anything to earn your forgiveness.”
Dracule Mihawk. The man notorious for his hawk like eye contact, couldn’t even maintain eye contact with his lover. His lover was the only one to be able to make him feel intimidated. Not out of fear, but out of love and respect. The judgement of his lover was the only judgement he cared for.
There was a long silence before you smiled, going up to him and wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He immediately hugged you back, planting a gentle kiss on top of your head.
“If you want me to forgive you… You’ll have to spoil me for the next two years. To make up for lost time.” You laughed as you relaxed against him, missing the familiar warmth.
Mihawk smiled softly, “For you? I’ll spoil you even during my final breaths.”
Corazon
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It’s been six months since you all left the Donquixote family to find a cure for Law. Luck sadly hasn’t been on your sides. Every hospital that you all went to, you all were treated like monsters with no feelings.
It was hard on everyone, especially Law. You took it upon yourself to comfort him. You let him cry into your shirt, nothing but tear stains on it when he tired himself out. You let him sob into you, cursing the world for making him like this. Your heart ached that a child had to go through this much pain.
After you put Law down to sleep for the night, your gaze fell on to Corazon. He sat at the edge of a cliff, downing his beer as he threw various maps to the water below. You sighed, wanting nothing more than to speak with him, but you knew it’ll be useless to even attempt that.
You make your way near the fireplace, laying down and covering yourself with a small blanket you brought for the trip. You closed your eyes, trying your best to fall asleep. Yet you couldn’t.
Footsteps could be heard approaching you followed along with mumbling. You keep your eyes closed, listening carefully.
“You may have stabbed me… But it didn’t hurt at all…” Corazon’s voice cracked, making your eyes snap open. You didn’t move, listening to him.
“You were the one who was suffering… I just want to make things better for you, Law.” Corazon wept, his breathing ridged as tears fell from his eyes.
Your heart shattered at his words. You closed your eyes again as you heard his footsteps get closer to you. You felt a hand on your shoulder, little tears falling onto you,
“Please don’t think i’ve forgotten about you, my love… I’m so sorry that I haven’t been the best boyfriend. Just know that I do care about you. I care about your feelings, your worries, your sorrows. This is just as hard on you as it is on us. You’re not alone, you’ll never be alone as long as i’m here.” Corazon cried, pouring his heart out to you.
Your lip quivered. Corazon rested his forehead on your shoulder, “I’m such a shitty lover. I’m so sorry for neglecting you.” That. That’s what made you sit up and hold him close.
“Shut up.” Your voice cracked, Corazon crying into your shoulder. “These past few months have been hard for all of us. But it also made me realize something.”
Corazon hummed, looking at you with his head tilted, “And what was that…?” You smiled as tears fell from your eyes, “You and Law are my family. Once we find a cure for Law… Let’s live as one big happy family.”
Corazon had the brightest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. He gently cupped your face, gently pressing a soft kiss on your lips, “And you both are my family. I love you both. I promise to always be here with you.”
Corazon held his promise. Even as you both were shot down by Doflamingo, lying motionless in the red stained snow. He held you close to him, even as he took his last breath.
Both you and Corazon didn’t know, but Law heard that conversation that night. Even after years have past as he stands before Doflamingo, his sole goal to kill him.
Law remembers how Doflamingo ripped away the family that he could’ve had.
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lovifie · 4 months
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Fishy Business (Mermay'24)
Mermaid!Soap x Reader
4k words - masterlist
Cw: injuries, smut, oral sex, unprotected p in v, monsterfucking(?, let me know if I missed any 💙
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Johnny has been living in the tank for two weeks now.
Discovering mermaids were real, shock the world, but in all honesty, only for a couple of days before the evil human mind started to think of ways to profit out of them.
Luckily, mermaids were not stupid and knew perfectly fine that they needed to stay away from the human reach; almost able to smell the putrid aroma of ill intentions pouring out of them.
But no matter how good they hide, humans still find the way to, even if not on purpose, to damage the ecosystem. And when you get the call that a mermaid got his tail tangled on the propeller of a boat and needed urgent care, you weren't really surprised.
You sent your instructions, so the poor thing could get the needed treatment while you made your way to Pentland Firth.
It only took you a couple of days to reach John Price's aquarium. Gruff, big guy that offered the empty tank at his fish sanctuary to keep the merman until it got released.
A solid handshake was his welcoming greeting when he opened the door and he let you into his house. “It's nice to finally meet you, Doctor. You’re making quite a name for yourself lately.” He said, a kind smile on his face making his beard move with it and wearing a funny looking hat more fitting of a sailor on his head.
“Well, not so hard to do so when there is so little competition in mermaid care.” You answered, not completely lying. Little was known about the mermaids, and almost every paper that got published was the first of its kind. Your name just happened to appear on most of them.
“Then I can assume you know your way around them? Sneaky little shits, with kind eyes and sharp teeth.” He said, a chuckle leaving his mouth as if he just remembered something.
“To be completely honest, you have probably seen more than me.” You admit, as you walk next to him, trying to keep up with his pace. “I hear they are quite a number up North, they must like the cold.”
“They like the lack of people.” He almost interrupts you with a low unhumorous chuckle. “This one swam a wee bit to the south… and look what happened.”
You see him shake his head, as if he felt guilty himself of the creature getting hurt. “Anyway, ready to meet him?” He asks, the kind smile back on his face as he takes a corner. He opens the only glass door on the hall, and with a hand on the small of your back, he lets you into the platform sitting over the water surface inside of the tank.
The metal platform rustles with the weight of the man walking alongside, only stopping when he walks up to the man standing at the end of the gangway. Standing just a couple of feet away from them you are able to comprehend their size, massive men, broad, strong, muscular, tall men. They definitely don't look like the classical marine biologist who would own a fish sanctuary.
But then the water splashes, making you look to where the surface of the water is rippling, but without any sign of what causes it.
“Simon, let me introduce you to the doctor. Doctor, Simon here has been the person in charge of following your instructions.” He slaps Simon's back hard, it reverberates against the tank walls but the blonde looks like he didn't even feel it. He is wearing a surgical mask and the rest of his body is covered by a wetsuit. A little contradictory thing.
“Nice to meet you, Simon. How has it been?” You ask, smiling as you look up at him.
“Like givin’ a stray cat a bath.” He mumbles, shaking your hand with a strength that has you trying your best not to shake with it.
“And him? How is it?” You ask, trying your best to be professional and not act like a kid in a candy shop. But the truth is, this is the first time you are going to interact directly with a merman.
“Hm… Like a stray cat that got splashed with cold water.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.
“You are good with metaphors…” You mumble, hearing Price snickers behind you. “So… not really happy with the treatment, then?’
Simon shakes his head, looking back into the water. “Nah, the sashimi shit doesn't want anyone to touch him, and his tail is looking more and more grey as days go by.”
You hum, nodding as you turn to also look into the water. “I'll work on some antibiotics to pour into the water… it won't be as effective, but it'll be a start.”
Price turns as well, all eyes on the water looking for the creature that seems to have disappeared into the water. Camouflage abilities are not to be dismissed taking in consideration how little is known about them, but if Simon was just dealing with him, they should be able to see it.
You look into the deep end, the hairs of your nape rising when you feel eyes on you. But the water in front of your eyes is empty, not a droplet moving out of his place and the only thing you can hear is both men breathing next to you.
“How does he look? Maybe if I have a mental image I can-”
You don't get to finish your sentence, at least not before you feel a wet hand wrap around your ankle and pull it. Hard.
It doesn't give you time to use your hands to stop the fall before your chin knocks the metal of the ground, the skin bursting at the hard hit. A single drop of blood mixes with the water underneath before two pairs of hands grab your arms keeping you from going under the water.
At the pull of your body, you feel sharp claws rupture the surface of your skin where they are holding you, only stopping when Simon stomps his foot right beside yours, threatening to step on him next.
“Enough, Johnny!” He snarls at the creature, standing between you and him, while you cling to Price's legs. If you end up underwater, you are not going alone.
It is hard for you to focus your sight on anything, panic and pain mixing in your system. Only being able to see the creature when you hear him hiss at Simon. The stray cat comparison of Simon being really appropriate now.
The merman captivates you, looking perfectly human, still knowing that no human would stand so high over the surface in open water like him, your brain forcing you to remember the fish-like tail under the water.
You can't bring yourself to pull your eyes from him, both your hunger for knowledge from finally being so close to a real breathing merman and both for the fine specimen of a man staring you up and down like you will be his next dinner.
It's Price the one that pulls you away, helping you on your feet and keeping his arm around your waist to help you walk without resting weight on your foot as he walks you out of the tank. Behind you, and without you noticing, Simon and Johnny share a knowing look, only broken when Johnny gives him a short nod before sinking back in the water, the taste of your blood still floating on it..
It's already night time when you hear the noises, like a piece of furniture falling against the floor. And against your better judgement, you walk, well, limp out of the room you were laying down in.
Turns out Simon and Price are not the only ones living in the sanctuary, and there is a third man called Kyle who was the one that bandaged up your foot and chin.
The ground trembles under your feet as you walk closer, each step you take letting you know with more certainty that the sound is coming from Johnny's tank. You see it before he sees you, standing in the shadows behind the glass door as the merman swims in circles.
Gaining inertia before slamming his body against the wall of the tank making it shake. You see his nostrils flare with his troubled breathing, the grills on his neck moving just as fast. It's such a worrying behaviour that your doctor brain makes you act on it before you can realise how stupid of a decision it is.
You turn the knob opening the door, barely managing to get a foot in before a deep voice startles you. “What th’ fuck did ye pour intae th’ water?! I'm fucking drowning!”
It takes you a second to realise it is the merman talking to you, muscular chest rising with each hard breath as his arms, big enough to crush a skull, hold his body over the water surface.
It also takes you a second to realise that what he means is the medicine in the water, the pungent taste of the chemicals probably making him struggle to breath as normal as before.
“It's the antibiotics.” You answer, almost mumbling. The lights from the tank making the water reflect into the walls in a beautiful imaginary that almost works to trick your brain into ignoring the danger. “For your tail.”
“My tail is perfectly fine! I dinnae need yer bullshit! I need tae go back!” He shouts back, slamming his fist on the metal like a petulant child.
“It is infected! If it enters your blood system you could die!” You shout back, setting both feet a step further into the tank.
“Lies! Human inventions! I'm perfectly fine!” The water splashes around his body when he waves his tail to push himself further out of the water.
“If you were fine you wouldn't stink of rotten fish!” Another step closer to him.
“I dinnae stink! That's just how I smell!” He sits on the gangway, pushing his body out of the water to do so, the massive tail that forms his lower body making the metal creak under his weight.
The sheer size of it doesn't stunt you, it being just proportional to the width of his upper body. But the scales that cover it, dazzling with the light of the reflections and looking like its own miniature sea. Speckles of blue, green and silver dancing around making it hard to look away from it, and making it impossible to miss the pink colour of the exposed meat. Not grey anymore.
“It is already looking better…” You explain, pointing to his wound as you keep walking closer. “You cannot tell me that it doesn't hurt less.”
He follows the direction you point at, quickly moving back so it is under the water; away from your gaze and making you frown at how little time you had to stare.
“That's just because time went by…” He says, almost mumbling and averting your gaze. “I need to go back.”
“Why?” You ask, the volume of your voice also lowering as you bend down to sit, crossed legged but with the injured one still sticking out. “Somebody waiting for you?”
“Yes!” He raises his voices once again, exasperated with your ignorance of his issues. “Everyone is fooling around, and next year when they all havd their wee bairns I'll be alone and I dinnae wantae! 'n' I cannae dae nothing about it cause a'm stuck here!”!”
His words slowly clicks into place, his eagerness to leave, the specially shiny scales, wandering outside of his territory. “It's mating season… mermaids have mating season?”
This is not the time to be asking these questions, you are here to help the merman heal not to study him like an aquarium specimen. But you can't help yourself to ask, only second guessing yourself when the merman looks at you like you just grew a second head. “Obviously… humans dinnae?”
You stare at him, thinking it thoroughly before answering. “Not… really, no.”
“And when do humans mate?”
“...anytime”
The disgust appears on his face as if you had just insulted him and everyone he has ever loved.
“Ye spend th’ whole year shagging, and then have the balls to call us beasts… hypocrites.”
“It's not like that!” You exclaim, suddenly afraid of disappointing the beautiful merman. There is a split second in with you remember every singles fable that talk about dangerous mermaids are, how they lure people in with pretty songs and prettier faces only to get eaten alive, how they trick sailor man to crash their boats in the rocks and then they have a feast on the corpses.
The alarm bell is loud and clear in your head, but just as easily it gets silenced when his wet warm hand lands on your injured foot, right under the bandages. He looks confused at it, eyebrows furrowed and slight pout on his lips.
You shouldn't let him grab you, last time he didn't drown you because Simon and Price picked you up. But you are alone now, and instead of pulling your foot back, you lean in, closer to the creature, and peel the bandages up, showing him the wound.
“I did this?” He asks, his fingertip grazing the skin surrounding the wound. You nod at him, your eyes glued to his face not wanting to lose a single expression of him. He furrows his eyebrows again, his hand moving to rest on the underside of your calf. “Humans are weak… I barely touched ye.”
“We are not weak… You just have sharp nails…” The sound of your voice makes him pull his gaze up, catching how you scratch the skin close to the wound of your chin, the sting from the stitches making you itch.
He pulls your leg again, softer this time, and it should worry you more with how much ease he is able to move you, with a grasp of your foot he easily slides you closer, leaving your feet hanging over the water.
He lays his hand flat beside your leg, propping himself up out of the water. With his arm completely stretched he towers over you, making you pull your head back so you can see his face. He looks down at you, cocking his head.
His other hand finds his way to your jaw, pulling your head even further back so he can see the wound on your chin. You can't see him with the new angle of your neck, but you can feel him get closer to your throat.
The feeling of his breath on the skin of your neck makes every hair on your body stand on end. The alarm bells ring in your head again, this man, as handsome as he is, is still an apex predator in the water that would be able to dismember you in seconds if he wanted to.
Still, and with that knowledge in mind, you have to bite your tongue to keep any tell-tale sounds from escaping you when you feel his face so close to yours.
"I dinnae do this one.... Are ye going to stick to yer theory that ye'r not weak? Or are ye just soft?" his deep voice murmurs, causing a shiver to travel down your spine.
His hand that was on your jaw moves down, resting on your thigh for a second before squeezing the soft flesh. Moving up slowly, dragging it over your skin to your hip, his thumb anchoring itself in the crease of skin between your thigh and your belly. Squeezing the flesh once more making you jump.
As his hand continues to move up, squeezing and whispering against your neck. "Soft... Soft from head to toe.... See? Soft, soft, soft..."
With each repetition of the word, he grabs a different part of your body. Your thigh, your hip, your tummy, your waist and it is when he reaches your chest, his hand wrapping around the soft flesh of your breast that he finally gets a sound to fall from your lips in the form of a faint moan of his name.
"What is it, my soft girl? I can feel yer pulse rising..... It's not fear, innit? Or something… else?" The whine that escapes your lips echoes against the walls of the tank, encouraging the merman in his movements.
The merman presses his wide body between your legs, forcing you to spread them apart to accommodate his width. And before you are able to form a full thought, about everything that is wrong with your actions; how morally wrong, how dangerous, what this could mean for your career... you feel the man's wide tongue travel from your collarbone to behind your ear, scorching your skin with the heat of his body.
Your hands grip his shoulders on impulse, feeling the strength leave your body as you feel him roll his hips against yours.
His assault on your neck continues, nibbling and licking until you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. By the time you realise you are lying on the platform, opening your eyes to see the massive merman on top of your body with lust in his blue eyes.
You look down to where his hips are pressed against yours when you feel an unfamiliar weight over your pubic bone. Once again, a day's worth of interactions with this specimen is proving more productive than previous years of study, for the great unknown of how mermaids reproduce has just been revealed to you as you see the merman's member lying on your body.
And you are only aware of what kind of expression you have to have on your face when he speaks to you. "What's the matter, ye humans donnae have this either?"
"No, no, they have it, like... some do, but not so... like this.”
Once again, a deep chuckle drips from his chest making you look up to him as he looks down on where your pyjama shorts stick to your clothes when they get wet from the water dripping from his body. His fingertips bury themselves under the hem of your pants, trying to pull them down but grunting when he can't because his body is in the way.
He leans back, sinking back into the water and finally pulling your pants and underwear off, leaving you bare and exposed to him from waist down. You try to think of a reason as to why you seem so unbothered by his advances, it must be some kind of mermaid powers. The guy that took you on a date and asked to go to your home later? No. The guy you met online that asked to meet? iugh. But the merman on the tank that could ruin your career? Yeah, he's alright.
But mermaid powers or not, the way you feel his tongue lap at your soaked folds is very real and so is the whiny moan that falls from your lips. You feel him bury his face even deeper into your cunt, slurping the juices and moaning at the taste of them making you curl your toes. His hands move under your thighs, locking you in place so he can peacefully devour you.
Even though the man has no intentions of pulling back, you still grab the hair at the top of his head urging him closer which he happily complies making you moan softly. One of his hands moves closer to your cunt, dragging his claw over your skin making you shudder at the feeling.
You worry for a second that the merman will scratch you just like he did on your ankle, but instead he uses two fingers to spread your folds leaving you as exposed as he can before shoving his tongue into your entrance making you arch your back. The muscle dragging along the ribbed walls of your cunt, flooding his mouth with the taste of you.
A shameless whine escapes your lips when you feel him pull his face back, your grip on his head lacking all force. He coos at you, shushing your cries as he turns you on your stomach, keeping one of your knees bent as he slots himself behind you.
He props himself on an arm, keeping his chest flush against yours as his other arm hugs you pulling you impossibly closer to him as he rolls his hips to slide his already hardening dick between your folds, making you buck your hips to meet his movements. The heat of his wet body making you ache for more, to feel him closer, deeper.
You lower your hand, placing it between your legs and keeping his cock from moving forwards, making it sink into your welcoming walls. A harmony of moans filling the tank when he slowly sinks into you, the weight of his shaft inside of you feeling comforting in the cold of the tank.
The merman buries his face on the crook of your neck, biting softly your skin, just enough to feel you between his teeth as he moves his hips back, moaning at the feeling of your tight warm cunt sucking him back in.
He moans in tandem with you, a song of your voices accompanying the dance of your bodies. Everytime Johnny's hips move forwards, yours move back, the sound of skin slapping growing louder as his movements get faster.
Every snaps of his hips threaten to pull the air out of your lungs, leaving you unable to do anything else but moan at the feeling of his length hitting so deliciously deep while stretching your gummy walls to accommodate his girth.
“A'm gonnae tak' ye wi’ me once I'm out… would ye lik' that, bonnie lassie? Keep ye close, fucked ‘n’ dined, nae a single worry inside of that bonny head of yers but to take my big fucking cock as good as yer right now…” Every filthy word that leaves his lips, falling like melted honey into your ears making you clench around him, is accentuated with a snap of his hips making you bounce on his arms.
His arm that was hugging you moves lower, fingertips travelling down between your legs and rubbing tight circles over your clit making you whine as you close your eyes. You can hear his tail splash in the water with his movements, and you can tell when his thrust starts to become sloppier, almost losing the rhythm, but keeping it long enough for you to combust around his shaft.
He groans on your shoulder when your walls clench around his length like a vice, milking him for what he's worth, making hims moan against your skin as he keep moving his hips, slowly, letting the two of you ride out your orgasm as you try to get air back into your lungs.
Under the tank, on the underground level of the sanctuary and hidden in the shadows, three pairs of eyes see how Johnny kisses your shoulder softly.
“You know… I was feeling bad about dragging the poor girl into this mess, but… I don't think she minds it too much.” Gaz says, eyes glue to the two of you.
The thing is, that just like sailors knew that the earth was round long before anyone else; they also knew mermaids were real long before the rest of the world. But being able to communicate with one of the sea apex predators has its benefits, and negotiating with them usually translates to an improvement on the business.
And if the merman they accidentally run over with their boat says he wants a cute little partner to repopulate the north sea in exchange of pushing the fishes towards their fishing nets… they will get him a girlfriend to keep him happy.
After all, since humans always find a way to benefit from mermaids, it's only fair that mermaids benefit from humans too.
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I hope you guys still wanted some mermaids, I don't know how it took me so long 🩷
Taglist: @crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z
@lyralein @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121
@spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @arbesa-mind @cmbghost
@multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles
@cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria
@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow
@loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger
@soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust
@sodavrr @yuki2129 @idk-justkane @shanhalen @dukeofjjune
@vane28282 @dracu1ara @vivi2e @lordbugs @murder-hobo
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m3l0nfl0at · 21 days
Text
just say yes - t. kuroo
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kuroo tetsurou x f!reader ; fake dating to lovers, trigger warning: family problems which leads to a lot of degrading, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, flirty!kuroo x obtuse!fem reader, happy ending, 2000’s romance-esque vibe, y/n used a handful of times, heavy amount of pet names, a LOT of build-up, reader is lowkey weird girl coded (aka me), 13.2k words
summary: upon receiving an invitation to your sister’s wedding you decide to ask kuroo for a favor to be your fake date for the event. but what happens when your feelings for your fake date suddenly become real?
melon’s recommended melody: just say yes playlist
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“I need you to do me a huge favor. Hear me out first, okay?” Kenma faces you in his chair even though his eyes were on his game. You inhale deeply, “I need you to attend a wedding with me and before you start saying no, I’ll do anything you want for a whole month”. Even though you knew Kenma could pay someone to do anything he wanted for him, you needed him to realize how desperate you were for him to attend this wedding with you. 
 While you look over to Kenma you’re holding your breath, your roommate was never consistent so you know him saying no was always a fifty percent possibility. Waiting for an immediate shutdown you’re instead granted with Kenma saying “Ok, when is this said wedding?” You start celebrating all too quickly because just as you tell him the dates, you’re met with an immediate dreadful silence. “Sorry, I have several business meetings that week but I think you can ask Kuroo. He did say he had vacation due to the off-season.” A flush creeps across your cheeks as you think about asking Kuroo. Knowing he’ll just tease you relentlessly for even asking him to fake a relationship with you. Kenma groans in annoyance at his game, snapping you out of your dazed contemplation, Kenma’s met with your pinched yet flushed expression.
 “You know better than anyone that I cannot ask Kuroo, Ken. Not only would I be betraying Alisa, but he plays around too much. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells trying not to get teased by him.” You huff sitting down while Kenma looks over at you with narrowed eyes finally taking his full attention off his game. “Just tell Alisa it’s a dire situation, I think she’ll understand why you so desperately need someone to attend with. She knows you wouldn’t voluntarily pick Kuroo for anything, even if he was the last person on earth.” You sigh letting your shoulders hang low knowing Kenma was right. Even though Kuroo was a smug bastard, he was your best option to come out of this wedding in one piece.
 Alisa immediately lets you in her apartment, noticing how you kept pacing around uneasily in the hall. Gaining the courage, you finally tell her your original plan to ask Kenma to come with you to your sister’s wedding until that ship sank quickly leaving you to a last resort. “So, you’re going to ask Kuroo to be your fake date because of your iffy relationship with your parents?” You quickly nod, lying flatly across Alisa’s bed. Looking up to see her supporting a sad sympathetic smile before she quickly follows up. “You know, I’m not his girlfriend right? You don’t need to ask me for permission to ask him out for pretend purposes. Besides, it's not like you have feelings for the guy.” 
 Pouting, you let out an elongated sigh conflicted because your gut was telling you instinctively, something didn’t feel right. “I know he’s not your boyfriend, not yet at least. Nonetheless knowing you like him it just feels icky not asking for permission. Plus, I don’t want to overstep any boundaries you may have. Or even worse, have you think I have any ulterior motives with him.” Alisa chuckles knowing that a major weight has now just been lifted off of your chest. Suddenly she pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, you both take a minute to bask in the comfortable silence until Alisa decides to break it.
 “I’m glad to have such a considerate friend like you, you don’t find too many people like that anymore.” 
You pick yourself up only to be mentally weighted down again, as a realization clicks that you’ve only solved half of your problem. Even though you got Alisa’s approval, you still hadn’t asked Kuroo, knowing he’ll be harder to persuade than Alisa. Massaging your temples you tell yourself to stop overthinking, for once giving Kuroo the benefit of the doubt. “Lis, how am I going to face Kuroo while I’m desperately begging for his help? He’s just going to ridicule me.” Alisa chuckles just as you start sulking for what feels like the tenth time today, picturing Kuroo’s annoyingly wide smirk.
 “Just ask him nicely like I do, he’s always super sweet to me. Doesn’t hurt to try?” You glance over at Alisa whose face is flushed all over while you make gagging noises. “Please stop, of course he’s going to be nice to you Lis, you’re an angel. For me, he just turns into a pestering tease who won’t give me a break. He can’t even have a normal conversation with me without poking fun.”Getting up you send Alisa a finger salute, taking off to go ask her rooster boyfriend to accompany you for the upcoming event. She then flashes you two thumbs up, sending you off in a nervous state. 
 Standing in front of Kuroo’s door with your head in your hands wondering what you’ll say to convince him to do this fake dating scheme. Fidgeting with your fingers, you finally look up to his door hesitatingly knocking twice, shocked to hear the chaotic rustling footsteps on the other side. Kuroo answers wearing a black fitted tank with some sweatpants signaling he just got home from the gym. As he leans on the doorframe, you suddenly take notice of his muscular build and just as you start to open your mouth to speak, nothing comes out. He notices you staring but decides to fill the silence feigning obliviousness. “Did Kenma forget something at my apartment again? No, I swore he came yesterday to get his Switch charger.” 
 You take a deep breath and close your eyes as you slowly start to whisper. “No, I actually came to talk to you. I need your help with something really important.” Kuroo lifts his brow and suddenly leans closer sporting his Gengar-like smirk. “I’m sorry but I actually can’t hear you, can you speak up sweetheart?” Your nose scrunches in disgust and suddenly you realize who you’re talking to. Not your roommate’s good-looking best friend but Alisa’s brash crush. Snapping out of whatever daze he had you in, you lean into him mimicking his stature feigning confidence. “I need you to be my date to my sister’s wedding next weekend. As a fake date of course…nothing real.” He takes notice of how you rush over your words and refuse to make eye contact with him but decides not to verbalize it, could be better blackmail material later he thinks to himself. 
 Kuroo leans on his door frame with an amused smile crossing his arms over his chest before puffing it to let out a chuckle. “Ok. I’ll do it.” You look at him with wide eyes shocked that he agreed so easily, shock soon turning into suspicion. “Why did you agree so easily, what do you get from this? Did Kenma pay you?” You step back raising an eyebrow only for Kuroo to lean towards you while pouting. He then reaches to take your hand holding it with sincerity. “Do you think that poorly of me sweetheart? I would never pass up an opportunity to date you, real or not.” He stares at you menacingly before you take your hand back to punch his shoulder. Making way into his apartment to land harshly on his couch, still wondering if he’s taking this seriously.
 “Ok for real, Kuroo will you help me or not?” He places a hand over his heart exaggeratedly taking a seat next to you. “I already said I would, what more do I have to do to let you know I have no hidden intentions?” You look at him straight on with narrowed eyes before muttering jokingly “I will never fully trust you, even if my life depended on it. Has anyone ever told you that you have the aura of a conman?” Kuroo looks at you as if he just faced the biggest heartbreak, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “You know I have heard that before but coming from you sweetheart, that feels like a direct hit.”You roll your eyes knowing Kuroo is always one for dramatics. You start contemplating how this is actually going to work since Kuroo and Alisa both agreed. “What’s going on in your head princess?”Kuroo follows up by scooting closer to you and tapping his finger against your temple. “Tomorrow, meet me at the cafe down the street from Ken and I’s apartment. We can go over the plan and most importantly boundaries.” you say as you scoot back from Kuroo only to be met with the arm of his couch. 
 Letting out all the tension in your body, you allow yourself to relax while walking back to your apartment. Filled with relief that you found someone to willingly help you get your mother off your back. Especially since that someone was as picture perfect as Kuroo was, he was the trophy boyfriend that every parent would want you to bring home. Kuroo was smart, athletic, determined, and very charming. You cross your arms snickering loudly, wait till your mother gets ahold of him, that’ll finally put an end to her constant nagging. 
 Entering your shared apartment you notice Kenma chatting with someone on the phone, tiptoeing to try and ignore Kenma from addressing the elephant in the room. “Hey, get back here. You can’t just ignore me! Tell me, what did Kuroo say?” Staring down at your feet in embarrassment you head over to Kenma who’s still on the phone. “He said yes right away, no questions asked.” Kenma wrinkles his brows “Then why do you look so…tense?”. You try avoiding eye contact with Kenma hoping that he would drop the conversation but Kenma was known to never give up. “I didn’t want to make it awkward, I just asked your best friend to fake date me for a weekend. You don’t find that weird at all? Plus, Kuroo seemed way too desperate for my liking, it freaked me out.”
 It wasn’t till you were done with your ramblings that you heard a boisterous laugh on the phone, automatically knowing whom it belonged to. “Kenma! Were you really on the phone with him this whole time? You twerp! It’s even more awkward now!” Kuroo continues laughing as your hands cover your hot face. “Princess, did you really just call me desperate when you were the one eyeing me as soon as I opened the door?” Kenma notices the flush intensify across your face but before he can say anything you interject. Stating that you were heading to your room not wishing to engage in any more of their pointless conversation.
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Awakened by a blaring ringtone you answer even looking at your phone, only to be met with instant regret. “You’re going to the wedding right? Your sister expects you to be there, she said she was even making you a bridesmaid? You understand how big of a responsibility that is, especially at such a last minute-“ Your mother continues talking but your mind instantly shuts her out. Knowing you should be listening but not having the energy to put up with her this early in the morning. “Mom, look it’s early and I just woke up so do you think you could give me a minute before you start being belligerent with me.” 
 You hear your mother huff on the other side as if she just heard the most offensive comment ever made towards her. Unconsciously rolling your eyes as you answer her first couple of questions. “One, yes I’m going, I don’t intend to miss my sister’s big day. Two, I already gave her all the information to help her with the sizing for my bridesmaid dress.” you let out a big sigh “Did you have any other questions mom?”. Your mother smacks her lips, “No, but how come you talk to your sister and not me? Even on the family group chat you don’t talk? Are you being lazy these days, do you have nothing interesting to report on? I want to hear how you’re doing and you treat me like I'm not important, do you want a new mom?” 
 You get up from your bed holding the phone up to your cheek before you start pacing around the room. “Your sister told me you were bringing a plus one? Is that correct? Didn’t know you had it in you to get a boyfriend, especially after all these years. I mean your sister is already getting married and you’re barely getting into a relationship? Don’t you find that a bit odd?” She chuckles condescendingly while you start picking at your cuticles walking to the kitchen. “Well mother, as much as I would love to continue this interesting conversation, I actually have a meeting to attend so I’ll let you go. I’ll see you at the wedding.” 
 Your mom agrees before hanging up finally putting you out of your misery. You place your phone on the counter as you start rubbing your temples not noticing Kenma enter the kitchen. “Who was that? Is Kuroo bothering you already?” you chuckle at Kenma’s remark, as much as you didn’t like Kuroo’s endless teasing you sure wish it was him on the phone instead of your mother. 
 “No, it was actually my mother but it’s over now. That’s all that matters, she got her monthly call so lets hope she doesn’t call again. Now that you reminded me, I do have to text Kuroo, just to make sure he can make it today. Wish me luck with that.” You exit the kitchen not wanting to socialize right now, due to your mother draining your mental battery. Deciding that you should start getting ready to head out to meet with Kuroo.    
 Texting Kuroo you found that he was already on the way to the cafe just as you had finished getting ready. As you’re on your way to the cafe you feel drained due to never really regenerating mental stamina from your phone call with your mother. Walking on auto-pilot mode, you start thinking about how to approach this meeting with Kuroo without pushing your problems on him. Entering the cafe you see Kuroo tucked away in the corner, sitting in a cozy brown booth. As the scent of coffee hits your senses, you feel it replenishing your fatigue. 
 “Hey, I hope you don’t mind but I already paid for your drink. Don’t worry I made sure to ask Kenma for your cafe order.”. Maybe this meeting wouldn’t be as hard as you thought it would be. You start placing your bag in the booth to sit while Kuroo rests his head on his palm, “Are you okay? Not to be rude but you look like you had a rough morning. Usually when you see me you have this flush on your face and start to stutter nervously.”. He smirks but you stop him before he could go any farther “Thank you Kuroo for the treat but please just don’t do this”, you gesture at him, “today.” Then placing your head down on the table dissociating, feeling remorseful for snapping at him. 
 Kuroo tilts his head drawing his eyebrows together, knowing something serious must’ve happened for you to be this irritated. He then lifts a hand onto the table to catch your attention “I apologize, don’t feel guilty for telling me your limits. For today, I’ll set aside all my teasing. But seriously, are you okay princess? Talk to me, what happened? If you don’t want to talk about it then that’s fine too.”. He then reaches for his drink waiting patiently for you to speak. 
 Giving into the silence, you decide that bottling your feelings isn’t healthy for your friendship or  for you guys’ new found fake relationship. “I had a phone call today with my mother and let’s just say I’m glad you agreed to come with me because I don’t think I could’ve done this alone. Throughout the call she just kept talking about how my sister is living a great life while I’m barely getting mine started.” you didn’t notice it but you started picking at your cuticles again, Kuroo did notice. Placing his hand on top of yours as both of your eyes lock on eachother “I’m guessing that’s the reason you asked me to attend this wedding?” He lifts an eyebrow hoping to get a verbal answer from you but instead gets a nod.
 “Well then that’s why I’m here with you, you’re not facing her alone. I don’t know if this’ll make you feel any better but you guys just have different definitions of life goals. She thinks a major life goal is getting married, while you think otherwise, it’s not your fault she’s stuck in her own ideals and is trying to push them onto you. You’re a grown woman, she can love you as her daughter but I think you’re grown up enough to make your own standard bunny”. You start laughing, brushing off the ridiculous nickname and focusing on how he makes perfect sense of your mother’s logic without even having to meet her. Sneaking a quick glance at you, Kuroo mentions how he also had family problems with his parents as a child. “My family problems lead me to meeting Kenma, who is now my best friend. So, who knows what yours will do for you?” Kuroo nudges you with his elbow and you suddenly think inviting Kuroo to come with you wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
 After you and Kuroo’s chat about your mother, you decided going forth it wouldn’t be good for you to withhold your family problems from Kuroo, especially since he is going to experience your parents behavior firsthand. Still sitting in the cafe, you both collaborate to come up with ideas on how you guys both first met. “As much as I would love to tell my parents how we actually met, I’d rather come up with something more romantic.” you spoke sarcastically knowing how you and Kuroo originally met was an embarrassment. Kuroo laughs recalling the first time you actually met wanting to tease you but deciding not to pester you after the morning you’ve been having, “Well, if we make it too romantic it won’t be believable. How about we say we met through Kenma on a blind date and we hit it off after I saw how enchanting you were.”. 
 You roll your eyes, “You do know no one is here, right? You don’t have to add all the compliments yet, who are you trying to impress?”. Kuroo rolls his eyes playful, knowing how obtuse you are. He decides to move forward with the conversation and express his opinion on the situation. “I think it’s simple and effective. No one needs to hear that our eyes met and we instantly loved each other. If it's too romanticized then people won’t believe us or even worse, we won’t remember it.” Locking eyes with Kuroo you realize he is being unrealistically rational today, “Who are you and what did you do with Kuroo?” you raise a brow at him. He chuckles looking down at his hands bashfully before locking hands with yours to fully get his message across. “I don’t want to bother you with being playful, especially with the morning your mother gave you. I want you to know I'm taking this role seriously, no matter what happens on this trip, I’ll always be by your side.”.
 He then squeezes your hand letting you know his sincere remark wasn’t him joking around. “We should probably start leaving soon but can we meet again in say two days? You know, start picking up couple mannerisms and go over what feels right and what doesn’t? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable while trying to impress your family.” You agree with Kuroo knowing you won’t get comfortable with physical affection so quickly, “Sounds good, in two days we can meet at your apartment to practice mannerisms. Since I’d rather not give Kenma two front row seats to embarrass myself the show.” You and Kuroo laugh before exchanging glances while he smiles at you. “I’ll see you soon bunny, text me when you make it home.” Kuroo starts picking up both of your belongings before handing you your bag, so you can both start heading your separate ways. You looked back at Kuroo walking away, feeling better about your day. What you didn’t see was him looking back at you two times, it’s safe to say you both left the cafe with a new sense of realization that day.
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Two days, it took you two days to come to terms with being physically affectionate to someone that wasn’t your sister or Alisa. The whole train ride to Kuroo’s apartment you wondered if you could just stay on the train until you ended up back home. As if Kuroo had a sixth sense, he soon texted asking if you guys were still on for later today? Your last meeting you both decided on being truthful and who were you to break that promise so early? Responding back to him you say how you’re nervous for today and that physical affection doesn’t really come easy to you. After you hit send you reminisce about how your father used to force you to hug him after every argument you guys had. Snapping out of your thoughts you see Kuroo responding not even a second later, “That’s okay. We don’t have to do it all in one go. We can take small steps or you can verbalize what you’re comfortable with and we can practice later. Remember, we’re in this together! :)”. 
 Relief washes over you as you once again realize that Kuroo might be a tease but he’s also a respectable person. Heading off the train and walking to Kuroo’s apartment, deciding to take the elevator up. A wave of nostalgia hits you, realizing last time you were here you asked him to be your fake date. The wave of nostalgia turns sour as you start to feel nervous again, you decide to calm yourself by doing some breathing exercises all the way to Kuroo’s door. As soon as you are met with Kuroo he stares at you grimacing, “Did you take the stairs, why are you breathing so heavily? You know there’s an elevator right?” You stop your breathing, “I didn’t take the stairs! I’m doing breathing exercises, you jerk. I’m sorry not all of us can be the cocky and confident Kuroo.” 
 Striding into his apartment as you both sit down on the couch. Kuroo being the first to break the awkward silence, “Well, did you think about what you were comfortable with trying on the train? I was thinking the most we would have to do is maybe holding hands and hugging. If anyone asks us about anything else we can just say we’re not big on PDA, it’s not like we have to explain ourselves anyway. I don’t want you to push your limits considering your mother is going to be draining your social battery. Does that make sense? Did it sound okay, you’re looking at me weirdly?” As you heard Kuroo carefully explain how he never wanted to push your boundaries or make you feel subjected to PDA, for once in your life you felt understood. Getting up from your side of the couch you inch closer to him before opening your arms awkwardly. Kuroo then wrapped his arms around you slowly, afraid you’ll pull away. Hugging Kuroo felt different from any other hugs you’ve experienced. 
 Your father’s hugs always felt coerced and demoralizing, you never thought hugging someone could feel so homely and natural. Still hugging Kuroo you decide to tell him the truth, “I never liked hugging, it always felt like a burden. My mom treated it as a chore, making me greet our family even though I hated them and even my father making me hug him after our terrible arguments. Anyway, hearing you talk right now about not wanting to push me into anything made me feel weirdly understood. Thank you Kuroo.” Kuroo smiles into your hair as he lets go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, “You shouldn’t have to thank me for understanding boundaries but since you never thank me, I’ll take it.”
 Tapping his shoulder, Kuroo realizes the moment is over for you but his heart still feels aflutter. “You’re right though, I shouldn’t have to explain myself to people. These are our boundaries and they need to respect them!”, you puff out your chest proudly before realizing you never answered him. “Oh and to answer your question, I’m fine with you hugging me and us holding hands. Nothing beyond that please.” Kuroo nods still freaking out over your shared moment before diverting your attention somewhere else. 
 “That reminds me, a suit should be fine to wear right? Since you haven’t really said anything about the theme of the wedding, I kind of just assumed. If not then we might need to go shopping.” Embarrassed, realizing you never really told Kuroo about the details of the wedding. “Sorry, Kuroo I didn’t realize! A black suit should be fine, I mean black will go with my bridesmaids dress-“ he cuts you off “Wait, you’re a bridesmaid? You really are worried about your parents if you’re forgetting key details. Well, I’ll make sure to look my best for my bridesmaid.” You side eye him, knowing he’s partially right. You’re placing more value on getting this interaction with your parents finished than actually paying attention to your sister’s big day. “We should both start packing for the weekend, it’s about a couple hours away so make sure to get some rest so you don’t fall asleep on the road. I’ll see you in a couple of days Kuroo.” You start heading for the door but just as you’re about to reach for the knob Kuroo beats you to it and opens the door for you. “Would it be weird if I asked for a hug before you leave?” You side eye him, “Don’t push your luck Tetsu.”. “Alright, I’ll see you later sweetheart! Text me if you need anything.” 
    The days leading up to the wedding passed quickly, as if time wasn’t on your side. The morning Kuroo and you had to leave you felt exhausted, mentally and physically. You couldn’t sleep due to the ticking time bomb that was your sister’s wedding, usually you would have texted Kuroo your concerns but didn’t want to wake him since he was the designated driver. The next morning packed and ready to go, you receive a text from Kuroo that he’s downstairs before heading out. Deciding to say goodbye to your roommate, you gently tap on Kenma’s door, walking in to see him at his desk. “Kenma I’m leaving…unfortunately. I’ll see you Monday, call me if you need anything!”Kenma nods and just as you start walking away he decides to say “Oh (Y/N), make sure not to fall in love with Kuroo, okay?” You freeze and start nervously chuckling. 
 Brushing off Kenma’s comment to walk down to your ride, you realize the nervousness washes away as you see Kuroo opening his trunk for your luggage. You knew that as long as you had Kuroo with you, you’d be fine for the weekend. “Here, I opened the trunk for you but please be careful with my suit. Oh and I have something for you when we get in the car.” Placing your bag and dress in the trunk, you then start to get in the passenger's seat waiting to see what Kuroo got you. “So, yesterday I realized we had to raise the stakes a bit to make this more believable, so I bought you this.” He pulls out an ornate necklace that has a letter K on it, showing you proudly with a wide smile. “Kuroo, where did you get this? Oh my god, I’m going to be sick, this is too much for me to accept. Why did you buy this for just a weekend? Are you crazy?”.
 Kuroo cuts off your ramblings by placing a hand on yours, “You’re a bridesmaid, everyone’s going to be looking at you. I wanted to show them you’re mine, even if it’s for the weekend. Plus now it’ll be more realistic, if anyone asks we can say it was an anniversary present. Now, let's not puke in my car over a gift, if it makes you feel better I kept the receipt so when this is over I can return it okay?” You nod feeling relieved before turning around so he could put it on you. What you didn’t know was that the receipt was thrown in the trash long ago, nowhere to be found. As you turn around to show the necklace to Kuroo, you notice his flushed appearance before he’s asking permission to touch the necklace lying flatly on your neck. You agree, he carefully touches the K charm as you notice him staring at the necklace then glancing back up to you, making sure your eyes lock on each other for a moment. “Beautiful.” he speaks for a moment, suddenly clearing his throat looking away to face forward, “it’s beautiful.” you feel your face heating up but decide to look at the road to distract your mind.
 “Thank you Kuroo.” he flaps his hand, “It’s nothing princess.”, you scoff. “No really Kuroo, thank you. For the necklace, the past week, and for coming with me. Today when I came down to meet you I didn’t feel nervous at all, I think your presence makes me feel at ease and like I can face anything.” Kuroo takes a quick look at you to see you looking down with a flushed face before interlocking you guys’ hands together “That’s what I’m here for bunny. Now lay back, don’t think I didn’t see how exhausted you looked coming down. It’s going to be a long drive anyway.” You squeeze his hand before looking in his direction to send him a drowsy smile, dozing off.
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Kuroo shakes you awake to tell you that you guys made it to the hotel successfully, you start to unbuckle yourself before Kuroo stops you. “Hey, before we get off I just want to say one thing,” he grabs your face with both of his hands “you better not forget that I’m here for you and only you. If at any time it gets too much let me know. Remember no hiding feelings.” You take his hands in yours to pull them off your face before nodding your head and getting out of Kuroo’s car. Kuroo takes that as a sign that your mental battery is already draining, opening the trunk letting you both grab your luggages. “Let me do all the talking at the hotel, you can stay by me just in case you run into your family.” Kuroo successfully gets checked in and you successfully watch him do that without encountering any of your family members. 
 As you both head up to your hotel room Kuroo notices you rubbing your eyes, “You still tired sweetheart? When we get to our room you can lay down, dinner isn’t till later anyway.”, you nod in agreement as you both walk towards your room. However entering the hotel room you felt like someone poured a bucket of ice cold water on you, immediately waking you up. Facing a singular king bed in the middle of the room,“Okay, well safe to say I’ll be taking the floor and you can take the bed princess. I’ll go ask the receptionist for another blanket, just lay down while I go run this trip real quick.”. Even though Kuroo told you to lay down you couldn’t help but feel guilt eating away at you, first you drag him to come to your family event, then you made him drive, and now you’re forcing him to sleep on the floor? 
 As you’re mentally debating with yourself, Kuroo soon enters the room to be met with you sitting down on the bed wide awake in a daze, “You don’t feel tired anymore bunny? Don’t tell me you want to switch because I’ll happily take the bed.”. Before you could speak Kuroo then abruptly jumped on the bed next to you smirking “ Kuroo! I was about to say I feel bad for you but you know what sleep on the floor.” You lay down turning over but Kuroo lays his head on your shoulder looking over at you pleadingly. You quickly look away, “Anyways before you rudely interrupted me, I was actually thinking that we could sleep together…on the same bed with some space.”. Kuroo smiles “Okay sweetheart, I’ll put the pillows in between us so that way you’re not uncomfortable.” Kuroo lifts himself off you to then start placing pillows in between you guys, “There you go, pillows placed and now I’ll set the alarm clock to 5:00 pm, so that way we’ll have time to get ready. Now, let’s sleep together on the same bed with some space!” Kuroo laughs, knowing he’s poking fun at you, you turn around huffing, deciding to ignore him and attempt to sleep before dinner. 
 Thirty minutes pass by and you hear Kuroo snoring, deciding that you aren't going to fall asleep anytime soon, you get up from the bed deciding to kill time by texting Kenma and Alisa. Only for you to realize that you left your phone in Kuroo’s car, getting up to retrieve Kuroo’s keys you start heading down. However, it seemed like the world was against you because as soon as you step off the elevator you’re met with your father talking to the hotel receptionist while your mother looks around. As you start to walk the opposite way, you hear none other than your mother’s shrill voice. “Honey, don’t be rude, say hi to us.” you lift your hand to wave but still stay silent “Well, where’s this plus one you were talking about with your sister? Wait, let me guess he canceled at the last minute or he couldn’t make it due to a cold?” You dig your nails into your palms “No mom, he is actually sleeping right now. I just came down to get my phone from his car.” Your mother looks you up and down suspiciously before your father interrupts her. “How forgetful of you, I thought I taught you better. First not properly greeting us and now forgetting your phone in your boy friends car?”. You cut him off before he could talk anymore about Kuroo, “No need for the space father, he’s my boyfriend.” 
��Both look at you stunned with your sudden imprudence, “Let’s hope this “boyfriend” of yours is very retentive seeing he’ll need to make up for your lack of memory. Nonetheless, I’ll let you get to it, be safe dear. We’ll see you at dinner.” Wasting no time to say any closing remarks you head off to your original destination, Kuroo’s car. As soon as you open the passengers side you see the phone that caused you so much trouble to retrieve. You pick it up and start heading back to the room not even caring about what you originally intended to do with it. As you open the door to your room, you make sure to close the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake Kuroo before moving to carefully sit onto the bed and find safety in your room. As you're slouchy sitting down, you realize you felt more exhausted than ever due to the overwhelming amount of thoughts in your head after your interaction with your mother, “What happened?”, Kuroo’s hoarse sleep-voice pauses every thought playing in your head. “I went down to your car to get my phone.” “Alone?” you nod your head slowly. “I don’t need you to say anything. I already paid for the consequences…I ran into my parents in the lobby and both think I’m making you up. Not only do they think that I’m incapable but they also think I'm aloof because I “forgot” to say hi to them properly.” 
 You know Kuroo is listening due to the lack of snoring but you can’t see him so you start picking up the pillow border to move them out of the way. As soon as you lift the final pillow you’re met with Kuroo’s face being scrunched due to intense concentration. “Kuroo, can you…”, his face softens. While you hesitate knowing that this is new territory you have yet to cross, “Can you hug me, even it’s just for a while.”. After you finish your sentence you look up to see Kuroo opening his arms up to you, you make your way up to Kuroo before seeking comfort in his warmth. Realizing you just needed him in this moment for nothing else around you to matter. Kuroo kisses the top of your head “Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll show them at dinner just how real I am to make them regret their words.”
  Recharging your social battery by cuddling Kuroo was not something you expected to happen today but you guess desperate times call for desperate measures. After preparing to be a fake couple with Kuroo, it was now time to make it a convincing reality. At the start of the two weeks you would have thought it to be a challenge, getting along with Kuroo. Now walking hand in hand with him to the rehearsal dinner, you scoff at your past self. The instant you walk into the rehearsal dinner, you’re met with lingering gazes on you and Kuroo which is to be expected. I mean you really weren’t typically known for being in a relationship, especially with someone like Kuroo. Kuroo squeezes your hand before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Remember we’re in this together.”. He then guides you to your seats, which are right next to your sister and her fiancé. 
Getting closer to your sister you feel alleviated knowing she wouldn’t pester you or bother Kuroo with offhanded questions like your parents likely would. “Hey little sis, long time no see.” your sister suddenly pulls you into a hug before pulling back and looking behind you, “Who is this little sis? He’s very handsome, I taught you well!For a moment I thought your plus one was going to be Kenma!”. Laughing along with her quietly you quickly feel Kuroo pull your arm softly, “This is Kuroo, he’s my boyfriend.” your hands suddenly feel clammy introducing Kuroo as your boyfriend but the moment  you shared soon turned sour. “Pinch me, I’m dreaming,” a harsh voice interrupts, “did I just hear her say boyfriend? My daughter finally has a boyfriend after all these years!”. Even though some might mistake your mothers tone of voice as excitement, you knew all too well she meant it backhandedly. 
 Kuroo locks your hands together again “I never get sick of hearing that come from her. She always gets so flustered, it’s adorable. Don’t you think so?” He looks over at you after speaking before pulling your hand up to his lips placing a quick kiss to the back of your hand, “I heard from my love here that you guys met earlier in the hotel? I apologize for my absence. I had been driving all morning, you know how tiring that is.” Kuroo says as your parents turn wide eyed knowing you told Kuroo about your bump in. Your sister interrupts to quickly greet your parents so she can leave to go greet her other guests, leaving an awkward silence. Your father stares at you and Kuroo before raising a brow in Kuroo’s direction, “Well Mr. Kuroo, since we didn’t have the pleasure of meeting this afternoon, care to tell me more about how you met my daughter?” Kuroo chuckles before you cut him off “Dad, let’s not do this right now please. It’s not my day, it’s my sisters.”, knowing he’ll take this as an opportunity to ask belligerent questions.
 Unfortunately your discomfort doesn’t stop his persistence. “Well, I’m just asking? Can't your father be a little curious about who his little girl is dating?” Kuroo rubs his thumb over your hand “She’s reserved, you know? Nothing bad about that, we don’t feel the need to flaunt our relationship. I will tell you this though, I remember when we first met like it was yesterday. My first impressions of her was that she was such a kind and vibrant soul.”. Kuroo gets interrupted by your father, “Yes, she gets her kindness from me, I’m so glad to have raised such a kind girl.”, you roll your eyes at your father,  knowing the facade he’s putting on for Kuroo. “When we met she had just moved in with Kenma, of course he needed help with moving boxes due to how much streaming equipment he has. Being the caring person she is, she decided to volunteer to help us. Even though Kenma and I could’ve done it ourselves, she’s persistent.” 
 Realizing he’s not sticking to the plan, he’s telling the story of how you guys actually met. “At the time, I didn’t know her but thought she was sweet because Kenma mentioned her to me a handful of times saying that she always helped him with technical issues and streaming ideas. However, as soon as we started moving boxes she and I both had accidently reached for the same box bumping our heads together. She was so red that you would think it was permanent and I couldn’t help but think how adorable she looked blushing violently. When she stood up, she stood so quickly that she ended up tumbling over more boxes behind her.”. Now Kuroo laughs, recalling how strangely captivating you were that day to him. However, for once it didn’t feel like he was laughing at you, which most people tend to do. “To this day, if you ask her how we met she’ll decline telling you. She thinks it’s embarrassing but if you were to ask me I would say that day she stumbled her way wholly into my heart.” Kuroo looks over to you still rubbing your hand, before you lean onto his shoulder smiling, you’re so going to kill him later. 
 Your mother coughs, “Isn’t that adorable? Speaking of Kenma, where is he honey? No offense to Mr. Kuroo here but I thought you’d be with him. You know, spread some generational wealth to our family like your sister.” Kuroo feels you freeze. “What does Kuroo here even do? If you don't mind me asking?” your father asks before staring at Kuroo, his eyes widen at your fathers thoughtless remarks. Even though you’d allow your parents to walk all over you, you would never let them do that to Kuroo. “Does it matter what his profession is, dad? He makes me happy and that’s all that should matter to you. You know, I’ve put up with you for a long time demeaning me but I will not let you sit here and demean my boyfriend. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to go head to the ladies room.” 
 Just as you get to the hallway, you feel someone grab your hand, only to be met with your father. “I’m sorry if your mother and I offended you but you cannot act like this at your sister's dinner. It’s your sister's moment and you’re acting like a brat, I raised you better than that.” You look at your father in disbelief, feeling anger blooming within your chest, wanting to lash out and create a scene but not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Excuse me, I need a moment to speak with my girlfriend please.” You and your father look to see Kuroo behind you guys, “If I were you, I’d talk some real sense into her. She should be ashamed of herself, creating such a spectacle at her own sister’s rehearsal dinner. Now you understand why she’s been single for so long, acting like a little girl.” Kuroo blocks out what your father is saying to see you clenching your fists so hard that your hands are losing color, looking up at your glossy eyes to see them devoid of any life and replaced with dullness. 
 “I’ve heard enough, sir. Give us a moment.” Kuroo snaps at your father making him leave swiftly as he glances back at you scoffing in disappointment. As soon as he leaves Kuroo gives you the keys to his car, telling you to go while he explains to your sister that you’ll both be leaving for the night. While handing you his keys he sees the nail marks imprinted harshly on your palms making note to care for those later. “Tell my sister I’m so sorry, please.” Kuroo angled his head downward to see you holding the keys tightly while trying not to cry, expressing your apologies to your sister. “I’ll let her know bunny, now go quickly.” Kuroo walked you to the door so that way you had no chance running into your parents, making sure that what just happened never happens again.
 “Hey, what’s up Kuroo? Did something happen?” Kuroo sends your sister a sympathetic smile. “Your sister and I are leaving a little early tonight. She’s not feeling too well but she sends her deepest regards.” Your sister sends Kuroo a knowing look, “Tell her that I'm not mad at her. I know our parents can be…crazy and that’s putting it lightly, if she needed to get away that’s fine. Actually, thank you for being with her tonight, Kuroo. Now, I think she needs you more than ever.” Your sister then waves off Kuroo. Heading to you, he sees you in the car messing with your hands guiltily. “She wasn’t upset with you bunny. She empathized with you, saying she knew how your parents could be.” That helped you breathe clearer, lifting some heavy weight off your chest, feeling safe and sound in this moment with Kuroo.
 Entering your hotel room, Kuroo takes your hand in his and guides you to sit down on the bed. Giving you some much needed space, shortly leaving the room to change. Alone with your thoughts, you think how bad things would be if Kuroo wasn’t here. Yet him getting belittled because he was associated with you was where you drew the line. How much farther could your parents go before Kuroo’s mental state starts slowly chipping away too. Cursing yourself for even letting your parents get a rise out of you infront of Kuroo, body heavy with disappointment. Now feeling embarrassment crash over you, wanting nothing more to shed the skin of your actions today and get out of this tight dress. You go to grab a wire hanger hoping that you could take off this dress the same way you put it on. 
 Kuroo walks out of the bathroom dressed in his pajamas to see you fishing the zipper on your dress with a hanger, “Sweetheart? You know you could’ve just asked me to unzip it for you right?”, you turn around stumbling back. “Kuroo, you scared the crap out of me! Don’t do that again.”, you place a hand on your chest before turning back around, “Then can you just unzip it for me please?”. Kuroo’s eyes bulge out of his head, shaking his head wanting to clear his thoughts, “Sure, don’t have to ask me twice princess.”. As Kuroo closely approaches, you start moving your hair to your left shoulder, Kuroo successfully unzips your dress then proceeds to press a light kiss to your shoulder. “I’m sorry about today sweetheart, I should’ve gone after you but your father beat me to it. To be honest with you, their words kind of shocked me.”. 
 He hugs you from behind, laying his head on your shoulder, his hands softly placed on your waist, “I never once felt insecure about my job but hearing them bring it up like I was some peasant not worthy of you, made me question myself…I thought if this is how I feel from one comment, then you must feel awful dealing with this your whole life. I’m so sorry bunny.” Listening to Kuroo you couldn’t help but feel emotional, knowing how emotionally burnt out you are just from one day with them. Kuroo sensed something was off as soon as he saw your shoulders sag, “Princess? Are you okay?”. Deciding to swallow your pride you turn to face Kuroo. Crying blurred some of your vision but the look of concern on his face still came through for you. Feeling undeserving of any kind of empathy, “Kuroo, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you here, I didn’t know they would go this far. It’s all my fault for dragging you into this.” 
 Kuroo grabs your hands while stepping back shocked to see your weeping face, “My love…no, it’s not your fault! If I didn’t come and heard you over Kenma’s phone crying I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself. I would’ve drove all the way over here just to come get you bunny. Even if you didn’t want to come with me. I would’ve thrown you over my shoulder and forced you back home.” You weakly laugh picturing Kuroo angrily driving for two hours just to come get you. He turns over your palms to see the indents of your nails still there as he caresses the marks, “Go get changed princess, you had a long day.”. Agreeing, you head to the bathroom before changing and getting rid of every bad memory that happened today. When you return you’re met with Kuroo on the phone speaking to someone, laying down next to him on your shared bed just to decompress. “Yeah, thanks for your help. I’ll tell her to call you tomorrow. Bye Kenma.” You look over at Kuroo, “What were you guys talking about?” Kuroo pulls you into his chest. 
 “Nothing, just asking him for some advice.” He starts pulling your palms up to his lips before giving them soft kisses, you pull back scrunching in disgust, “Don’t, my palms are going to be all clammy.”. He grins, grabbing you to tightly hug, “You’re very strong for enduring that your whole life, my strong bunny.” he pets your head. “Tomorrow will be better, I promise. Let’s go to sleep, we have a long day ahead of us.”
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You woke up lying next to Kuroo the following day, seeing the sunlight peek through the blinds behind him. Illuminating him beautifully, you run your hands across his face softly. “Good morning princess.” You stop your hand after seeing Kuroo stare at you, “Morning, Tetsu.”. Truth be told, Kuroo was awake before you but didn’t want to get up, longing in the feeling that was waking up next to you. You get up and stretch, making sure to tell Kuroo your busy schedule today. “Let’s go drop you off, my beautiful bridesmaid.”, you roll your eyes at his remark. Starting to head off to the venue to meet with your sister and her other bridesmaids.               
 “Text me if you need anything, I’ll let you know when I'm heading over here, okay?” Kuroo looks at you one more time as if this is the last time he’s going to see you. “I’ll be away from you for only a couple of hours, drama queen.” Before getting off you peck Kuroo on the cheek and head into the venue. It wasn’t till you got into the venue you realized the severity of your actions, embarrassed but immediately receiving a text from Kuroo. “Goodbye to you too sweetheart x”
 Spending the first half of your day getting dolled up to be in your sister’s wedding was chaotic. When Kuroo texted you he was on his way to the venue you knew it was almost showtime. “You look beautiful. I’m so happy for you.” You look behind you to see your sister, “I could say the same thing to you, it’s the fairytale wedding you’ve always dreamed for. It’s your big day.”. You both hug before being interrupted by the photographers letting you know that it was time to take pictures. “Who knows maybe next time I’ll be the bridesmaid to you and Kuroo’s wedding.”, she playfully nudges you before heading to the photographer. “What!”
 As you’re taking pictures you see your mother, she calls you and your sister wanting to take a picture with you both. You make sure that you put on a good fake smile even though you didn’t forgive her or your father for yesterday. Wrapping up the pictures, your mother pulls you aside. “Well, look who it is? You know, your father and I were very upset that you left so rudely.”, realizing that you’ve done this for far too long you stand your ground. “Mother, I appreciate all you’ve done for me in my life but I’m not going to accept this anymore. First you verbally break me down but now you’re attempting to take down my boyfriend with me? How far are you willing to go before you realize this act is pathetic. After this wedding, you cut all contact with me. Unless it’s an emergency or you’d like to apologize for your behavior, don’t bother. Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to walk back in there and put on a smile like a mature woman, you should do that too. Not for me but for her.”. You point to your sister before walking back inside, only thinking of Kuroo yesterday telling you how strong you were. 
 Hearing the quartet start to play the music, you realized the time has come. Your sister is finally getting her big beautiful moment. Marching down the aisle you head over to the spot your sister assigned you looking around afterwards. Spotting Kuroo he smirks, shyly waving to you. You look down, trying to lessen your smiling afterwards looking right back up. Kuroo catches your attention again before you see him mouthing that you look breathtaking. At this moment everyone disappears and it’s just you and him, your heart speeds up. Lost in each other's gaze you hear the quartet stop signaling your sister's arrival, you look at her and can only think of how beautiful she looks but Kuroo’s gaze never left you. 
 At the very moment, your sister got down the aisle you couldn’t help but feel tears fill your eyes. The preacher starts his speech while you look over at Kuroo. “Love is patient, love is kind.” Kuroo’s smile reaches his eyes, you feel a flutter in your stomach. “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” Keeping eye contact, your heart stops, the flutter in your stomach feels like it’s going feral, and your hands are clammy. Kuroo is the only person to have ever made you feel that way, safe and hopeful. Kuroo is the most kind individual you knew and was always patient with you, you feel your knees get weak. Do you like Kuroo?
  Your thoughts get cut off by everyone clapping at your sister and her fiance, you slowly start clapping, joining her other bridesmaids. Watching the newlywed couple start walking down together, people follow as you stay behind going crazy. You can’t like Kuroo but you still have to put on an act with him to shut your parents up. Kuroo and you being the only ones left in the venue he comes up to you taking your hand in his. “Shall we go to the reception my lady?”, Kuroo playfully bows in your direction. You chuckle before interlocking your arms together, “We shall.”.
 Arriving at the reception Kuroo feels that something with you is off, your eyes were always avoiding him and when he tries to hold your hand you flinch away. “Hey bunny, are you ok?”, you jump at the feeling of Kuroo’s breath near your ear, “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just on edge because of family and what not”. Making up a fake lie was all you could do in this situation, feeling guilty for breaking you and Kuroo’s pact to not keep anything from each other. Kuroo gets up, your eyes follow him, “Well in that case, then let’s go dance.”. Your hands feel clammy as Kuroo offers his hands to you, waving yours back in rejection. “Ah no, I don’t know how to dance.”, Kuroo smiles in retaliation, “Then I’ll teach you, it’s not that hard anyway sweetheart.”. He grabs your hand lifting you in one go while dragging you to the dance floor.
 Kuroo places his hand on your waist and the other interlocking with yours, following you interlock hands and place the other on his shoulder. Looking down at his feet making sure to not step on them, Kuroo lifts your face up to him. “Don’t focus on your feet princess, keep your eyes on me.”, you nod mesmerized by him. He starts leading, swaying slowly back and forth, “See it’s easy, sweetheart. It’s just you and me here bunny, only focus on me.” , fascinated by Kuroo. He was right, in that moment it was just you and him. Every worry vanished, you didn’t notice your parents looking at you two or your aunts gossiping about you, it was just Kuroo helping you sway to the music. “I mean what I said earlier by the way, you look beautiful princess. I mean don’t get me wrong, you look gorgeous everyday but today bunny. You just have this fascinating glow to you. It’s like I can’t take my eyes off of you, you’re so captivating.” Your palms start sweating, hearing the music stop you break away from Kuroo abruptly. “Sorry, thank you for the dance Kuroo.”, wiping your sweaty palms you start to head back to your table feeling dizzy. Not realizing your parents sat themselves at your table, sitting down trying to look for Kuroo in the crowd. 
 Finally finding him near the refreshments, letting out a breath of relief. “So, got anything to say about yesterday young lady?” you freeze just barely noticing your parents at your table. You start to turn around feeling the fear comeback into you facing your father. “No, actually I have nothing to say and I’d prefer if we don’t talk about this here.”, trying to be the mature person in this situation. Your dad crosses his arms, “It’s just like you to walk away, you know you talked a big game to your mother but now you have nothing to say to me?”. Feeling your throat burn you start to pick at your fingers starting to speak before getting interrupted.
 “No matter what title you have to her, that doesn’t allow you to speak to her that way? A father should never speak to their daughter that way. Instead of trying to celebrate your other daughter’s beautiful wedding, here you are trying to make it about yourself. Excuse us, we're going to go ahead and sit somewhere else.” Kuroo places your drinks down before grabbing your hands and guiding you to another table. “I’m sorry bunny, I went to go get refreshments for us cause you seemed flushed after dancing but trouble seems to follow you anywhere you, huh?”, Kuroo tries lightening the mood but you still feel frozen by the tone your father displayed. Noticing how you weren’t letting up he decided to pull you away from the party entirely, gently caressing your face. “Sweetheart, look at me.”, he slowly starts swaying you just like before. 
 Laying your head on his shoulder you start swaying hearing music faintly playing in the background, “It’s just us remember. I’m here now.”. Kuroo’s lips gently graze your forehead as your vision feels blurry and you feel hot tears welling up. “Kuroo, can we go back to the hotel?”, he nods as you pull him to his car, not wanting to spend another minute near your parents. Driving to the hotel looking at the window you realized, your parents sucked at wanting to be parents. Being their daughter you always tried to make excuses for them but seeing how they treated Kuroo, it finally clicked for you that your relationship with them wasn’t worth the mental gymnastics. “Kuroo, do you talk to your parents?” Kuroo nods, feeling bad for not being able to provide the answer you wanted. “I do, I’m not going to lie to you though our relationship isn’t perfect but it’s not borderline damaging like your relationship with your parents. No offense.” You laugh, “No offense taken, It’s just sad to me that my parents don’t really feel like my parents. I can’t justify our relationship anymore, especially after everything they put you through. I just have to accept that my parents are not willing to change. Man, I need a drink after the day I’ve had.”
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Heading out to the hotel bar, you and Kuroo decide to hangout before heading up to you guys’ hotel. Just getting a soda to drink, prematurely deciding that anything alcoholic will mess up your mental state even more. “Thank you Kuroo. We did it! The weekend is over!” You cheer with Kuroo before taking a sip of your drink. “This weekend was rough but you made it easier.” Kuroo leans on the bar smiling, picking at the tab on his soda can, “Well sweetheart, with you by me anything is easy.”. Suddenly feeling daring, you lean forward deciding to tease Kuroo the way he teases you, “Are you saying I’m easy Tetsu? That’s so mean of you to say to a girl who’s already down.”. Kuroo laughs leaning into you, “Bunny, we both know you’re anything but easy, more like troublesome.”  
 Kuroo leans down playing with the K charm on your necklace that lays on top of the nape of your neck as his gaze travels up to your face. Your breath hitches, knowing that your conversation just took a left turn, “Your friends wouldn’t describe you as troublesome, no?”. You shake your head, “Then what does that make me bunny?” You feel your heart pounding in your chest, “Tell me then sweetheart, tell me you want to be with me and I’ll drop everything to be with you. I’ve been telling you, "It was always you”, only you bunny.” Kuroo is only centimeters away from your parting lips. You feel his eyes locked on yours while your breath quickens, his fragrant musky cologne overtakes all your senses, and even though your desire to touch his lips with yours is strong, you hesitate.
“This is a mistake.” You whisper before pulling away abruptly, his fingers accidentally breaking the chain he bought you. You knew Alisa wanted him and what kind of friend would you be to take that from her, what kind of friend are you to even joke around like that? Deciding to pull away from Kuroo meant keeping your friendship with Alisa, knowing that she’d be heartbroken if she even knew you had any sort of feelings for Kuroo. “You’re right, this was.” Kuroo’s warmth is now gone and replaced with an ice-cold wall of rejection. He pulls away shaking his head and avoiding your eyes, “I’m heading back to our hotel room, since it’s the last night I think I’ll just take the floor.”, you sit up knowing you shouldn’t leave Kuroo alone but fearing what will happen if you convince him to stay. 
 Quickly contemplating the options in your head but your feet feel glued to the floor and a deafening silence hits your ears. You felt naive for allowing yourself to have feelings for Kuroo knowing he was never yours, you felt numb to the outside world. How could you do this to him, you hurt the only person who stuck out their neck to protect you. Not only did you hurt him but you also hurt Alisa, you felt like a terrible person. Not realizing you were in public till you heard people laughing near you, you felt heavy with negative thoughts consuming you. You quickly fix yourself before heading up to your hotel room. 
 Approaching the hotel room, you are met with light peeking out from under the door in the hotel hallway. Your chest felt like it was on fire, how could you go in there and act like everything was fine? You wished you could just start everything over from the beginning and profusely beg Kenma to come with you instead, never even considering asking Kuroo. Maybe even ignoring the invitation altogether and telling your sister you came down with some terrible food poisoning. Mid thought, the door abruptly opens but you can’t even tell because your slouched figure is on the nearest wall covering your face deep in thought. Kuroo stands still thinking about his next actions before shakily telling you that he’ll see you in the morning to drop you off at your apartment. You nodded, still stuffing your face in your hands because your throat felt too heavy to talk and you felt too ashamed to show your face. 
 Kuroo lingered longer than he expected wanting to hear you explain yourself but nothing progressed. Instead of saying anything, you finally let your hands fall to your side to be met with a blurry version of Kuroo’s silhouette. Just as you’re about to enter your shared hotel room, Kuroo suddenly grabs at your forearm. You stop becoming speechless at his actions wanting to grasp onto any words that’ll escape your mouth only to be met with nothing. He instead takes a deep shaky breath before speaking. “If you need me for anything just text me, I’m going for a drive. I’m not mad at you… I just need some time.” You didn’t face him still looking forward as you nodded before retracting your hand and heading in. Hearing the door shut in place, you sit down on the edge of the bed taking shelter in your arms. Conflicted about what to do with yourself now that you were truly alone. You did the only thing that felt right in this moment, cry, because deep down you know it’s over. Whatever chance you had at an actual friendship with Kuroo is over. The wedding being over was no longer a relief because you knew trouble was just going to follow. 
 Feeling the burden of having to explain yourself to Kenma, who would most likely be mad at you for stupidly developing feelings for his best friend and Alisa, who probably wouldn’t want to be your friend knowing you're disloyal to her. Laying down you grab the blanket and pull it up over your head, shutting out the world. However, the blanket could never replace the amount of comfort Kuroo would provide you and you only have yourself to blame for that.
 The next morning you’re met with Kuroo packing up his belongings, “Morning.”. His voice devoid of any  playful emotion and missing the stupid pet names he calls you, your heart breaks. You lift yourself up before heading to the bathroom to take off all of yesterday’s remains. As you slip everything off you feel yourself remembering how good the day started just for it to end rotten. Washing your face, you hoped you would wake up and maybe this would all just go away like a bad dream but sadly it wasn’t. Facing the consequences of your actions you decide to go back out there. Packing your things away you feel your phone ring, deciding to silence it before seeing it was Kenma spam calling you. Looking around seeing Kuroo immersed in packing you decide to put your phone on do not disturb. “You ready?”, you turn around to see Kuroo packed, “Yeah.”. Picking up your things before heading out the hotel, this was going to be a long drive.
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After your awkward drive with Kuroo, you knew exactly where he would be going and exactly where you couldn’t go. Knowing he’d end up venting to Kenma, you go where you knew Kuroo wouldn’t be. That’s how you end up knocking quietly on Alisa’s door in the early morning. She opens up to see your sunken and tired expression as you fall straight to the floor begging for forgiveness. Her eyes widened, “What happened, what did your family do to you and where’s Kuroo? How come he didn’t come up with you knowing you’re in this state, I’m going to kill him.” You silently look up to Alisa before covering your sobs with your hand and saying sorry. She looks down at you confused, while her brows furrow in concern. 
 “What are you saying sorry for honey? Are you ok, come in and tell me what happened.” Alisa pulled you into her apartment, you sat in silence waiting patiently to get yourself together before saying your explanation on the weekend and why you suddenly came to her declaring for forgiveness. Deciding to cut to the chase you close your eyes before explaining everything, “Kuroo tried to kiss me Lis and I pulled back because I didn’t have it in me. He’s yours, Lis. However, I would be lying to you If I said I didn’t have feelings for him and I’m so sorry.” Alisa stares blankly into space, “He tried to kiss you?”, you nod. “Alisa, what kind of friend would I be if I kissed him back and didn’t let you have a chance? I couldn’t live with myself If I took this opportunity from you.” Alisa chuckles and looks at me like you’ve overlooked key details.
 “You are so beautiful but yet so dense. What kind of friend would I be if I denied you an opportunity to be with someone who likes you? Answer me, do you like him?”. You looked at her then looked away afraid this would blow up in your face. “I guess? Maybe? I don’t know! When we started this I thought he was annoying but now he’s less annoying?”, not knowing what else to say about him without hurting her feelings. “Do you remember what I told you the day you came to ask me for permission to fake date him?”, you nod. “Well then, you should know that Kuroo is in fact not mine. Yes, I liked Kuroo but I now know he doesn’t feel the same way about me. However, I do know that he feels that way about you, so what are you going to do about it?”. 
 Your stomach felt like it was in knots, did you like Kuroo that much you were willing to take him away from Alisa? How do you know when you like someone? Was wanting to kiss him at the hotel an instinct or a moment of weakness? Thinking back to the weekend you realized just how much Kuroo influenced you, how his compliments started to linger on your mind for longer, or how you suddenly turned into a mess each time he engaged in physical contact with you. Holy crap, you liked Kuroo. Oh no, you liked Kuroo. You look up at Alisa who gives you a knowing look, “Go get him girl!”. Even though you wanted to make a big dramatic escape to Kuroo you knew it just wasn’t that simple, you dropped your head.
 Alisa looks at you questioningly, she thinks you didn’t hear her so she raises her voice a little. “Hello, I said go get him… why are you hesitating?” Your sigh fills the room, you don’t know what to say, you don’t know if there’s anything left to say. “I messed up badly, what am I supposed to say? Hey Kuroo, I know I said almost kissing you was a mistake but now I suddenly realized I like you. Kuroo doesn’t deserve backpedaling. Plus, we didn’t talk the whole way home! What do you think that means? I hate you.“ Alisa cuts you off before you can talk for another 30 minutes. “Look, if he really liked you he wouldn’t be over you in the span of a day! I’ll give you two days here before I drag you to his apartment myself. So get yourself mentally prepared to talk to him, okay?”
 I’m heading home, is what you text Kenma before putting your phone on, do not disturb, not wanting to hear him nag at you for avoiding him. It takes you a while to pick up all your belongings due to your hesitance. Alisa notices, “Ok, I’m about to start throwing all your stuff in your bag. I told you two days, not two decades, what’s taking you so long to pack? Didn’t you already tell Kenma that you were on your way?” Alisa glances over at you slumped on her bed. “I’m just mentally getting ready for Kenma to get upset at me, you know how territorial he is when it comes to Kuroo. On top of that, he’s scary when he’s mad. Usually people yell and argue but Ken just gets silent and stares at you disappointedly.” As soon as Alisa starts laughing you both hear a knock on her door. Glancing at each other, deciding to tiptoe to the door. She glances out the peephole to see Kuroo, gasping she whispers to go to her room. You signal an ok as you quietly but quickly make a run to her room.
 She opens the door to see Kuroo in a distressed looking state, “Hey Kuroo, what’s up?”. “Alisa I need your help, I know (y/n) was just here but how was she before she took off? Was she upset, did she mention being upset at me?”, Alisa had never seen Kuroo like this. Even in high school when he played big tournaments he always stayed peaceful. She quickly thought how he must really like you if you have him this distressed. You were listening to Kuroo ramble from Lis’ room and for once you felt like you were listening to yourself speak. “She’s actually still here, she hasn’t left yet.”, your heart drops, “Come on out! I’ll leave you guys to it, let me know when this is all over.” With that you hear the door click and footsteps heading towards Lis’ room.
 “Hello, anyone there?” Kuroo stops right in front of Alisa’s door before knocking softly, “I know you’re in there. Can you please open the door? I want to talk.” You hear Kuroo’s breath falter waiting for your response before you open the door letting him in. You guys look at each other before breaking the silence, “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out Kuroo, I didn’t want to seem pushy. Especially if you felt that you needed more time.”. Kuroo laughs bitterly, “Do you ever intend to put yourself first?”. You felt your heart stop, “Excuse me?”, you didn’t know if this was a fever dream or if Kuroo was really trying to reprimand you. “Kenma filled me in, he told me why he thinks you didn’t kiss me back. I want you to tell me the truth, is it because of Alisa’s feelings or is it because you don’t like me?”
 Kuroo knows the answer but he wants to hear you say it. Kuroo grabs your fidgeting hands, “Please bunny, tell me. If you don’t like me I’ll walk away, never bother you again. If you do like me then I need to hear it from you.”. He hears you take a deep breath, anticipation building up in him. “I didn’t want to hurt Alisa. Even if I did like you, knowing I would betray Alisa would hurt me more. I’m sorry but I need you to understand that.”, a silence looms over you two. “What about what you wanted? What about what Alisa would want for you?”Kuroo has you thinking about what you wanted for once but not being selfish enough to take it. 
 You stare at your hands interlocking, “You aren’t supposed to be with someone like me. The weekend we shared validated that answer, whether it be my parents dragging me down or even my own expectations limiting me. If you’re associated with me, I fear that I’ll just bring you down. Alisa has a beautiful family, a great job, and everything you need to live a happy life. I don’t deserve you.”, Kuroo’s heart shatters with each dig you throw at yourself. “Sweetheart, look at me.” You stare at Kuroo seeing that his eyes are watering, “Ever since you clumsily stumbled into my life you have possessed every single one of my thoughts, I wasn’t lying to you.” He places his face near yours.
 “I know that asking to be with you, is asking for all of you, all of your family troubles, your bad days, and even your nagging roommate.”, you chuckle, now tearing up with him. “That also means I get quiet mornings waking up next to you, being able to come home to you after a long day, and just being with you, no one else. You fill the holes in my heart that are shaped after you, and hold my heart in the palm of your hands. I never want you to feel like you have to earn me, you are good enough just as you are sweetheart. I don’t only want the good parts, I’ll be by you through the bad parts too. We’re in this together and I never intend to break that promise bunny.”, you shyly smile. No one has ever talked to you in such a caring manner that wasn’t meant to be taken platonically. “I really, really want to kiss you Tetsu.” You lean into Kuroo still feeling doubtful. “Okay, I’m all yours.”, you quickly kiss him, seizing the opportunity he gave you. 
 You both start getting lost in the feeling of kissing each other, relishing in how quiet your mind was, thoughts buried in the thought of how plush Kuroo’s lips felt. You never wanted this feeling to stop, Kuroo pulls away from you, still close enough to pull you back in. “I guess this trip brought you a new boyfriend, huh?”, you pause laughing for a moment remembering back to the cafe. “You’re such a nerd Tetsu.”, you look down to his lips wanting to kiss away his cocky smirk. “Oh, you forgot this at the hotel by the way, clumsy girl”, you looked at him in concern before seeing the K necklace, shocked. “I made sure to fix it for you, I can’t have my baby wearing it broken now, can I?”, he smirks looking at you. You turn around letting him lay the necklace down, clasping it together. “You know how I said I kept the receipt?”, you nod, “Well I kinda lied about that.” You turn around slowly, “Kuroo Tetsuro, how much did you spend on this? What if I had said no to your confession?” He grabs your face close to his smirking, “Well good thing I already said I’m all yours sweetheart.”, kissing you softly relishing in the thought that you both belong to each other.
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divider credit to @/anitalenia and @/thecutestgrotto
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ melon's marginalia: please enjoy, this is my first long fic and i hope you love it! inbox is open if you have any comments!! kuroo is slowly becoming my fav character!! 🐈‍⬛
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manicpixiefelix · 8 months
Text
all this, and love too (will ruin us)
{ One-Shot for head, heart, hand. }
Summary: The night of Oliver's party and both yours and Felix's moods are ruined upon finding out Oliver had been lying to you both for your entire friendship. While sticking with Felix all night to make sure he doesn't maim Oliver, Felix realises he doesn't like sharing you anymore. You're more than okay with this, but Oliver doesn't seem to be okay with sharing Felix, even if he has no say anymore. Canon tries to happen, but you get there first, so you kill the problem at it's source.
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: MAZE SCENE; death, murder, violence, nongraphic smut, dominant felix, bathroom blowjob, oliver's birthday party situation, oliver being incredibly manipulative, reader being incredibly manipulative back at him, heavy drinking and drug use, You VIOLENTLY Murder Oliver Quick In The Maze.
A/N: 6074 words. oh god these oneshots are only getting longer and longer. whoops. but also PLEASE heed the warnings. this is the Reader Kills Oliver oneshot (first of two) that i was talking about. not sure how i feel about it. its very unedited.
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
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On the drive back from his parents' house, Oliver sits in the back. Like a scolded child he keeps his gaze low and voice even lower. None of you speak the entire drive back; you try and focus on the wind in your hair and the hum of the car and not how your stomach is turning. In your mind you see the connections as they light up, small things you'd missed, things that are starting to make a lot more sense.
You wonder what other lies you could have gotten ahead of if Oliver hadn't been so nervous about you going through his file at Oxford.
Every single thing about him was designed specifically to be appealing, to you, of course, but more importantly to Felix. It was meant to be you who knew it all, could see the full board and all the pieces the people around you moved; it was meant to be you who could plan well enough and see far enough out to keep Felix out of situations exactly like this.
Felix is curt and swift the moment he's out of the car, trying to escape Oliver who rushes after him, his desperation echoing through the halls. You're several steps behind Oliver, silent, watching the exchange, watching Oliver cling to an ever-dwindling hope for even friendship, as Felix calls out the weirdness of his ongoing lies, tearing that hope asunder.
"I just wanted to be your friend," is all Oliver can say when pressed about his lies. It's genuine, it breaks your heart, but it doesn't make it better. For a moment, you see conflict as it flashes across Felix's face, but he clearly can't do this right now, needing at least the night, but promising not to tell his family.
As you go to leave, go to follow him, Oliver catches your sleeve, holds it too tight for just a moment -
"I thought you knew," his voice wobbles, but there's something like alarm bells in the back of your mind. Everything about Oliver is purposeful, even now. But you know him, you know how he likes to play.
"No you didn't," you look at his fingers still coiled in your sweater, watch him drop them, "you knew I trusted you." You wouldn't let him shift this blame; the faint dismay you can see in his eyes behind the hurt gives him away. He knew Felix had more emotions than sense, but somewhere along the way he seemed to have forgotten that you were so much more than another adoring fan in Felix's shadow.
"'m sorry," stumbles from his mouth almost like a reaction to the look in your eyes, "for hurting Felix with all this, I- I never wanted that," he shakes his head, dropping his gaze, "or hurt you," tacked on as an afterthought. Both of you know where he was placing the importance of that apology. Everything Oliver Quick does is with purpose.
"I know you are, Oliver," you tell him, standing tall and unflinching as you left him alone.
"If you leave my side tonight I'm going to maim him," is how Felix greets you when you enter your room. Sitting on his bed, you see a little, ornate box open in front of him, and you recognise it as one of the few stashes he had around the estate for desperate times. This one, if you recall correctly, was shoved well beneath Henry the Eighth's bed, and had a decent amount of coke that you'd left here after last Christmas.
"Can't fucking believe- I can't fucking believe him!" He rants, cutting up lines of coke on the little hand mirror Venetia had donated to this particular stash box. Mind working a million miles a minute, you're quiet, letting him rant. Running on autopilot, you begin to strip down to your underwear, pulling out your costume for the night, frowning at it in the afternoon light.
"How complicated is your costume?" Felix asks, finally looking up, gazing over at you and the sheer, shimmering thing in your hands. Without a word, but with a vague shrug, you turn it to him.
The base was like something you'd see at a rave, little more than green underwear, with straps, and beading, and jewels, and loops of green and purple pearls by your hips that would bounce while you walked. The overcoat, though it was far to generous to call it that, was pure gossamer, sheer and green, with hand-stitched silk leaves making up the hem that fell perfectly to your ankles, and intricate, hand embroidery of vines that extended across both shoulders, and both arms, ending with little, purple flowers embroidered by your wrists.
There's large, brown boots with a bit of a hell and some large buckles, and a belt that's half a skirt that hit just below your knee to give you some coverage, at least on your left, sewn to look like it was covered in leaves. Plus a leather thigh harness and flask that Farleigh had gotten you made for your last birthday.
Leaning back, Felix reaches out to feel the gossamer between his fingers, frowning for a beat.
"Don't be precious about it."
For a moment, you frown in confusion. Despite your entire outfit being exquisitely and perfectly tailored, you knew you could afford to not be precious about pretty much anything, even this. But that's never been an outright request he's made.
"I'm not?"
Quiet follows, the soft rustle of your garments as you begin to get dressed, and Felix quickly snorting a line of coke.
"I'm going to lose my fucking mind tonight," he mumbles. Even though you're half dressed, you still lean over his shoulder automatically as he lifts the mirror and the rolled bill up to you like an offering, holding the mirror steady for you.
"I need a drink," you groaned, to which Felix immediately agreed.
"God, why don't we stash anything in here?" He lamented, laying back and watching you head to the door once more while you're trying to do up your belt to hold up your partial leaf skirt, still without your overcoat.
"Because that's tacky and we're not alcoholics." Even with your explanation, Felix pouted. Still, it's a quick trip to the Blue Room and the bottle of rum you're glad Venetia hadn't found in the broken piano.
The night gets blurrier, gets better, with half a bottle of liquor in your veins before the sun even sets. As you're making yourself dreamy and ethereal with glitter and gems and makeup in the mirror, Felix drapes himself over your shoulders, pouting again. The drinks and drugs are already hitting you both and you can hear the revelry beginning outside.
"It's not going to last," he says pointedly, and you're confused until you see him trying to poke at the iridescent eyeliner that wasn't quite dry. Rolling your eyes, you smack his hand away. So he makes his point again, adding, "I'm going to get glitter all over me."
You smirked at him in the mirror, tipping your head against his.
"Don't be precious about it."
A spirit amongst the fairies, you greet your college friends with open arms and boundless enthusiasm, always keeping Felix close at hand. He was more subdued than you, more subdued than many of your friends were used to. Whenever you looked at him, it seemed like his gaze was searching, his expression drawn unless someone had caught his attention, and he wore a smile that seemed to convince them.
"Need a drink," his hand around your wrist and no time to protest, Felix dictated your night and it's pace. Frustration and apprehension keep him tense, even as he tries to loosen up; you feel every time that tension spikes, even if you don't know it's cause. His nails dig into you, wherever he's holding you, shoulder, thigh, arm -
In the bathroom, doing lines with India and some guys who claim to be friends of friends of the Cattons, you're leaning against the sink until you Felix nudge your knee with his own. Looking to the door, you see Oliver in white, taking up it's space. Felix only has to gently tap your thigh for you to shift, sitting in his lap.
"You can't ignore me forever," Oliver tells him, watching you both, watching the way Felix wraps an arm around your middle to hold you close and secure on him.
"I can try," Felix practically sings, his nails sinking into your stomach. With his free hand, he offers you his cigarette, raising it to your lips. You drop your gaze as you inhale, trying to only focus on keeping Felix secure in this moment.
"Felix we need to talk," Oliver insists, "Felix, come on man -"
"Look, man, I tried to be nice -" Felix started, and though you tried to gently warn him, pressing against him with Fi on your lips like you hope he won't say something he'll regret, he just holds you tighter and continues on, "but can you fuck off and bother somebody else?"
India half snorts with laughter in the middle of a line of coke, the others all judging Oliver the longer he lingers in the doorway, but Felix drops his gaze. His lips are on your shoulder to keep from saying anything else.
One of guys whose names you don't know asks who Oliver even was, but Felix can't answer; tension again, maybe anxiety or frustration, but his mouth moves from the gossamer and embroidery on your shoulder to your bare skin above the neckline, where your collar meets your throat. His teeth sting. His nails still sting. He swears under his breath before he lets go.
"Sorry," he mumbles finally, sighing and resting his forehead on your shoulder. You tell him it's okay, voice fond, but when you lean over to do another line of coke, you meet India's reproachful gaze. It takes you a long few seconds to connect the dots, to realise what was going on in her head. You're so fucking over everything tonight.
"You know Farleigh was lying to you about us, right?" You say casually, taking your line and sitting back up. Her eyebrows rise in surprise, "I know you think we're all gross and cousin-incest-y -" you hear Felix's faint laughter behind you, and feel him nudge you with his thigh, silently asking you to get up. Both of you do, and Felix manages his first proper smile of the night, even if it is smug.
"But we're not related," he tells her, "thank fucking god," and smacks your ass as the two of you exit, as if to just prove a point.
You're on your knees in a different bathroom when you hear everyone else start to sing happy birthday, but Felix's voice is a low growl of don't you dare stop, and his hands in your hair. Nothing else matters to you in this state of mind, blurry, pliant, desperate to follow his every command. It's as if you've forgotten what exists outside of Felix's hands on you.
The night becomes lights that are too bright, and music too loud, and laughter and glitter and the warmth of the people dancing around you. After a few hours you feel yourself starting to come down from your high, starting to come back to yourself, still on the dance floor. Venetia's dancing with a blonde boy, looking so pretty, like she's having a genuinely fun night, but when you point it out, Felix takes your hand.
"Don't look at Ven," there's that hunger in his eyes, that firm tone he'd been using all night, "don't touch Ven, don't -" he cuts himself off, wets his lips. Looking around for a moment, he spots something in the crowd that makes him scowl. Just a moment, as you follow his gaze, you see Oliver. The moment your eyes lock with his, however, Felix has his lips on your jaw.
"Fucking mine."
There's half a second where you and Oliver are still locked in this moment, you watch the way his expression starts to shift, jaw tensing, something like anger flickering in his eyes. But you can't bring yourself to give a shit about Oliver as Felix has his arms around you, kissing down your throat with a feverish, almost lewd intensity in the middle of the dancefloor.
"Prove it," and you let him drag you from the house, heading towards the place that had always felt a little special for you both, almost a little magical.
"I'm being selfish," Felix announced as you finally hit the tree line just before the maze, "I don't fucking care anymore, I'm being selfish, about you -!" He turns to look at you, only to see you gazing up at him with starry-eyes, hanging on his every word. He breaks into a sheepish grin momentarily, shaking his head as his voice drops for a moment, "oh, you're fucking loving this, aren't you?"
"I want you so bad right now it's actually embarrassing," you agreed with a wide grin, unable to contain your laughter, despite how genuine the feeling was.
"I'm being selfish," he said once more, muttering it this time, though as you entered the maze and the moonlight peaked down upon you, you could see the blush still upon his cheeks, "I don't want anyone else to fucking touch you again, you hear me?" This time, when he looks at you, he thinks he can see hearts in your eyes; your overwhelming love and acceptance, even for this -especially for this- is making it very hard to keep the stern act up, except -
"Anything you say," you tell him, breathless as you approach the centre of the maze, voice edging on desperate, "anything at all." And you see it hits him just where it had needed to, to hear you wanting and wanton and offering yourself to him -
The gossamer overcoat is ruined, scratched all up the back where you're pinned against the statue, half sitting on the base with your legs around Felix's, your fancy green undergarments around one ankle. His nails scratch down the bare skin of your back, fucking into you with furious intent to match.
"You've always been mine," he groans into your ear.
"Felix -" you whimpered. Immediately he was grinning, lips inches from yours, gazing at you through his lashes.
"How's that proving anything?" He teases, low and knowing, and as his hips snap up to meet yours, you take the hint, his name getting louder and louder on your lips as you almost chant it, till his hand is between you both, helping get you off, and you're close and all but screaming his name and -
"Felix." Not from you. Oliver.
"Oh Jesus Christ!" Felix immediately looks murderous, and not in a fun, sexy way. Oliver's demanding to talk to him while you struggle to pull your underwear back on.
"Could hear you out there," Oliver mumbles, half stumbling over his words, unable to look at you, focused on the dirt by your feet instead.
"Kind of the point, Ollie," you snapped, frustrated and now unsatisfied, but dressed once more.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Oliver?" Felix demanded. Oliver advances on him, presses into his space with desperate eyes and a bottle clutched to his chest. He doesn't look at you, he can't fucking look at you, you don't matter. It's Felix and his emotions who lead every situation the two of you share; it's Felix he has to win back over.
But he should have expected you not to leave, should have expected that when Felix pushed him away, shouted for him to get the fuck away, that you would try and step in.
"He's already got you on a leash, can I just have this one fucking moment?!" He snaps at you; he doesn't hit you but you recoil like he has, and Felix's gaze grows cold. Oliver seems to sense this before he even turns back, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I just- they already have everything -"
"Back off." Felix warns sharply, but Oliver can't help himself, won't listen.
"I just gave you what you wanted!" Oliver throws himself at Felix, pins him to the statue, their bodies flush and Oliver rambling, "like everyone else does! Everyone puts on a show for Felix..." his voice drops, childish and weak and wanting, and you watch him press himself closer as he turns gentle, "so I'm... I'm sorry if my performance wasn't good enough..."
"I think..." some part of it was working on Felix, his voice soft and placating, "I think you need to see somebody," or maybe he knows by now exactly how Oliver wants him to act; his eyes never leave Oliver's face, even when he doesn't let him go, "you need help okay, seriously -"
"No, no, I don't," Oliver's voice is rising again, "I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you," a tremble in his voice, sounding so raw, so needy, "you're the only friend I ever had, Felix." The manipulation is so blatant it almost hurts; you don't matter to him in this moment, all that matters is saying exactly whatever Felix needs to believe.
"I mean, doesn't this just prove how much of a good friend I actually am? How well I actually know you?" That hope, that dangerous, heartbreaking note of hope that's going to make your skin crawl. But you're not leaving without Felix, and he's not leaving this moment it seemed, "I'm still the same person, yeah? I'm still the same person," he insisted.
A long few moments pass, Felix's gaze searching Oliver's face for something beyond you. But then, finally, his gaze slips to you. All you can do is shake your head.
"Don't-" Oliver murmurs faintly, tipping his head to try and block you from Felix's line of sight, but Felix turns his attention back, expression helpless.
"I don't know what you are," he breathes, "but I do know you; you make my fucking blood run cold."
The fight drains out of Oliver, as does every last drop of hope. He lets Felix push his hands away, makes himself give Felix space to breathe. After a beat, he looks back at you, unsteady on his feet, pain in his eyes, but then he lurches, quickly shoves his half-finished bottle into Felix's hands, and rushes away to be sick.
Oliver is doubled over, retching, when you get to Felix. Before he can raise Oliver's bottle to his lips, you tuck yourself under his arm and wrap him up in a hug. He's trembling, but you feel the bottle against your back. Felix tucks his face into the crook of your neck, tears unspilled, clinging to his eyelashes.
"Better?" You ask forlornly once Ollie had gone quiet.
"Fuck off," he spits, finally coming back around. You watch him over Felix's shoulder, and the glare he levels at you as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand is almost surprising. Still, you try and show the same compassion you knew Felix would in this moment.
"Wash the taste out of your mouth," you try and tell Ollie gently, moving carefully out of Felix's arms, wrapping your fingers around the neck of the bottle he'd brought with him, "I think you should go to bed after." Oliver doesn't even reach for the bottle, but he does stop, looking between it, and then between you and Felix.
"Please," Felix sighs, head bent and bottle clasped tightly in his hand, "I need this."
"We can get another," you tell him quietly, calmly. Felix's gaze flicks to yours, imploring for just a moment, but dropping again when you don't relent. Felix sighs, once more, but finally relents, handing you over the bottle. Which Oliver has kept his focus on, brow now furrowing.
"I gave you everything else of mine, my drink's not even good enough for you anymore, like the rest of me?" He sneers, reaching unsteadily for the bottle in your hands, though his eyes and their focus betray him. Something lights up in the back of your mind, like one of those memories that made far more sense once Oliver's lie had been revealed. Alarm bells once again.
Felix stumbles to a halt -
"Fucking fine -" but as he tries to reach for the bottle again you step out of his range, beginning to see red as you got closer to Oliver, prickling with suspicion, "what is your problem, Y/N," Felix sounds so fucking tired, but all you can see is the deer of a boy before you growing wide eyed as he looks into yours.
"It's Oliver's," trying with all your might to not jump to conclusions, you hold the bottle out, desperately hoping that you'd connected the wrong dots, that Oliver was just drunk and as helpless as he appeared, that he couldn't be this malicious or vindictive-
"You want me to be sick again?" He tries to stand up to you, bottle pressed to his chest and refusing to step back even as you continue to crowd his space, "fuck off." He's seeming more sober, more alert, more with himself with each minute that passes. The distant noise of the party rings in your ears and all you can think about is the cold bottle between you and how Felix had almost -
"Leave him alone," Felix called out, footsteps in the grass sounding as though he was making his way back to the maze, "he's not worth it."
"He's pathetic," you spit, nose to nose with Oliver now, face heating up as hot, angry tears begin to close your vision. Still, you can see in Oliver's eyes that he's finding fewer and fewer ways to escape the situation.
"I don't care what either of youse think of me anymore," Oliver's lip curls as it quivers, trying to play distraught and callous all at once, "go fuck each other to feel like you're not just a fucking waste of space, vapid cunts -" he can see he's touched a nerve by the way your expression lights up with malevolent fury.
"Fi," there's a shake in your voice that you can't even fight, "please leave."
"Can you please come with me," Felix sounds like he's on the verge of tears, and when you turn, he's reaching for you, his hand shaking, "please can we go?" He begs.
An angel. Your best friend. Your everything. Your Felix.
Seeing him like this, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that Oliver's greed and jealousy would rather see Felix hurt than not in love with him, you couldn't let him get away with it. Finally you start to cry, even if you hadn't meant to, and the sight of it has Felix begging for you to leave with him. Oliver starts pushing, demanding that you both fuck off.
"Give me a minute, My Felix," you tell him, trying to smile, trying to reassure him, "I'll catch up."
"I'm not leaving without you."
"I don't want you to see this," you turn back to Oliver with newfound resolution. He's stepped back, leaning himself against the statue, doubled over, head in his hands.
"See what?" Felix asks dubiously, and Oliver looks up, sees the way you're approaching him, and scrambles to straighten his posture.
"Ollie's going to have a little drink," you offer him the bottle again.
"Tryna make me sick again?" He snarls.
"Then use it to wash your mouth out, then swallow," you order coldly, "and repeat until the bottle's empty."
"Why should I?"
"Because it's just as perfectly fine as when you handed it to Felix," you hissed, voice low enough that Felix himself couldn't properly hear. Oliver narrowed his eyes, matching your tone.
"If I don't?"
"What I will do to you, Oliver Quick, will be much worse than whatever you've put in that bottle, so you'll drink it all up," you leaned in, whispering close and menacing, "and if you do throw it up, I will have you on your belly, like the worm you are, sucking your own sick off of the fucking ground."
"What the fuck is going on?" Felix demanded, and you turned, taking a deep breath and hopefully giving a much more convincing, determined smile.
"He made you cry."
Felix's expression immediately changed. All soft and fragile but understanding, he just asks that you don't be long. You promise not to be. Both you and Oliver watching him go.
Once in the clear, you turn back to your captive audience, keeping your voice low.
"I'm not going to make you drink it," you admit, and though Oliver's confused and on edge, he seems to relax, just a little.
"The fuck do you want from me then?"
"I just need to hear you say it," you step back from him, give him space, even step around to place the bottle at the foot of the statue and lean your forehead against the cool stone.
"Say what -?"
"I'm not fucking stupid, Ollie," you groaned, looking at him out of the corner of your eyes, "you think I could hurt you? I ruin lives behind the scenes, I couldn't -" you flail your hands awkwardly, rocking back on your heels, turning to him properly once more. It appears to work, however, as Oliver is now only regarding you warily, instead of seeming actively cautious. "I was... hurt," you admitted, "I know why you said it, but I was hurt to hear you say Felix was your only friend."
"That's not -" he tried, defences lowering further as he attempted to defend himself.
"No, I get it; I've done terrible things because I love Fi, I couldn't imagine," you cast a pitying, apologetic look to Oliver, "him not loving me back."
And it works. He cracks, little by little. The tears begin to form, the lip starts to tremble.
"It's not fucking fair," it already sounds like there's a lump in his throat, "why do you deserve his love?" He scowls, "why can't I? I can be like you, I can be good -" he babbles, sniffling harshly amongst his defiantly sharp tone, "I know I could be," you gently wrap an arm around him and he fists a hand to tightly in your overcoat that it tears, "I was everything he wanted me to be -"
"I know, Ollie, I know," you carefully remove his antlers, holding them in one hand as you coax him in close, running a comforting hand through his hair.
"I wanted him to love me, I wanted- I never wanted him hurt, but wanted him dead so it wasn't my fault if he didn't love me; he couldn't love anyone -" he breaks down into furious tears, "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. I hate you, I hate that he loves you without you even trying -" there's no apology in his distress, even as he lets you hold him close, and you, for a few more moments, whisper reassuring nonsense. "I never wanted to hurt him," he mumbled softly, "but I wanted to kill him. I could never hurt him," there's anger and guilt in his eyes as he looks up at you, tear soaked and helpless, "but I wanted to hurt you." What you give him in return is pity, is sweetness and apology, but your blood is burning through your veins.
"You would have regretted it."
"I know..."
"Are you lying?"
"I think I am."
You have what you need, the confession, the intention; validation for your motivation. Hook, line and sinker.
"Hey, Ollie, Ollie, darling look at me, I know, okay, I know-" you try, taking his face in your free hand.
"No you fucking don't!" Oliver insists, but you keep insisting, "don't fucking take that tone, I just told you I was trying to kill Felix to hurt you -!" He thrashes, but your gentleness is unrelenting in this moment. You will give Oliver Quick what he deserves.
"Ollie, look at me, okay? Look me in the eyes, please -" you begged, and finally he did, despair and anger all there amongst the tears, "keep looking me in the eyes," you tell him gently, and firmly, and he does, too curious for his own good and wanting to see where this was going -
"Everything," you give him the faintest, reassuring smile, one hand on his face, shaking, messily wiping tears from his cheeks with your thumb as he keeps your gaze, "is going to be -"
- and you ram one of his antlers into his soft, exposed belly with all your strength. Surprise and pain hit him all at once and suddenly he's scrambling, trying to get your hands off of the headpiece. But he's winded, and suddenly in overwhelming pain.
"- fine," you breathe out, shaking with adrenaline. You have him pinned against the statue, just like he'd had Felix only minutes ago.
"Eyes, Oliver," you ordered coldly, while making sure to keep smiling, even as fresh traitorous tears were gathering and already spilling down your cheeks. Hand in his hair coming to grip him tightly, keeping his gaze level with yours, "what did I say? I want you to look me in the eyes -" and you rip the antlers out before plunging them back into his gut. Lips twisting into an animalistic snarl involuntarily, Oliver splutters and fights and squirms but everything is becoming slippery, and warm, and slick with his blood. The antlers, your hands, and his; hard to get a grip like the firm one you had on your weapon of choice.
"Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-" he chokes out helplessly, bloody hands moving up, trying to grip your arms, your shoulders, your face, "how -fuck- why -?"
"Whatever you had in that bottle is too good for you; you tried to kill Felix, you said so yourself."
As his strength begins to fail, the way he holds your face turns tender, almost gentle, before his hands fall back to rest on yours, both gripping the bloody antler. Oliver's weight rests on the statue, watching you with despair and helpless, pained moans. Cheeks wet with tears, you can't even fathom how you're doing this, or who you will be once it's done.
"You are not the minotaur of this maze," you grit your teeth, leaning your weight on the headdress, driving it into his guts until the bloody antler snapped clean off of the headdress, you still can't bring yourself to stop. It doesn't feel like enough. He tried to kill Felix. So you took the other antler in hand, unable to stop yourself, shaking with rage and tears, "you are the dear in my fucking headlights; you tried to hurt Felix, you tried to kill Felix! You are nothing, nothing, nothing," you punctuate each nothing with another bloody, unnecessary jab until you can't keep going. The second antler collapses to the ground, and you stumble back, hands shaking.
"Didn't want to hurt him," Oliver insists weakly.
"You were someone we loved," you can see the first antler still jutting out of him, stemming the blood flow but undoubtedly causing excruciating pain. But you spare him no sympathy, only a look of absolute loathing, finally taking in what you've done, the blood your fury had shed. "Someone I loved!" Burst from you, raw brutal betrayal scraping its way from your throat, face hot and wet with tears, falling to your knees, looking up at him with an exhausted fury, "you will never hurt him again. I will never give you that chance."
But Oliver's quickly unfocusing gaze slips from you, rising to a point beyond you, out into the maze. A weak, faint, but somehow still triumphant smile works it's way across his lips.
"Him?"
Like in a horror movie, you cast your gaze over your shoulder. You hear when Oliver finally gives out, stop holding himself up on the statue and fall to the ground, but all you can see is Felix at the edge of the maze.
And that look in his eyes.
Oh god, what have you done?
"Felix," tears start welling in your eyes again, and finally he looks away from Oliver's body, his own antler protruding from him, slowly bleeding out, to you. From here, he can't see the blood on your hands, the blood that's all over you, but he can see it all over Oliver, "Fi, please, you need to -" but he's stepping towards you, almost automatically; he looks ill. You have to look away, can't bear for him to see what your rage has brought about.
"I'm not," his words are robotic, still a bit slurred, and he keeps looking at Oliver, "going without you. 'said that." But he stops behind you. Eyes closed, you wait, you can't bear to even look at him. Then, slowly, he moves. When you breathe, it makes you shake, but you slowly open your eyes.
Felix approaches Oliver. You watch the faint, far away smile wears as he sees Felix up close once more.
"Fe-lix," he sighs faintly, reaching out with weak, shaking, bloody hands, feather light finger tips leaving red streaks along Felix's cheeks, his jaw, his lips. Felix's head dips in close, into Oliver's aching touch, his forehead resting against Oliver's in this moment.
"You were going to fucking kill me, Ollie?" Felix whispered through clenched teeth, on the edge of tears.
"'m sorry," Ollie mumbled weakly, shock and blood loss catching up with him as he struggled to keep his eyes open, "didn't want to hurt you."
"You wanted to kill me -"
"It wouldn't hurt."
"It would have hurt them!" Felix grabbed him by the collar with one hand, wrenching the dying boy up enough to see him pointing at you, still kneeling on the ground, second bloody antler laying in front of you. All Oliver could do was make a pained whimper, and Felix dropped him back to the ground, "and you said it yourself-" his voice is venomous, but your breath catches as you realise just how much he must have heard to know that, "and even having a thought like that," he snarls, hatred burning in his eyes, "means you don't fucking know me at all."
Felix is by your side in the very next moment, pulling you into his lap as he leaned back against the base of the sculpture. You're sobbing into your bloody hands, nothing else to do or say. Even as he's shaking, as he's crying too, Felix doesn't let you go, doesn't let you feel anything but secure with him.
"You saw it all, didn't you?" You whispered finally, and feel him nod.
"I said I wouldn't leave without you."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry -" and while he tells you that you don't have to be, the words, the fears, the desperate justifications and rationalisations pour out of you, "he said he was trying to kill you, Fi, and I couldn't- I should have walked away, just gotten him kicked out or taken away or- or- but I couldn't," you gasped, "I couldn't let him ever have that kind of chance again, I couldn't risk that, my mind wouldn't let me -"
"I know, I love you," Felix murmurs weakly, his forehead against your shoulder once more, "dad and Duncan will know what to do, they'll take care of it tomorrow," he sounds so young in this moment, so tired and fragile. You nod quietly, leaning into him. When his hands find yours, threading your fingers together and holding on tightly, Oliver's blood is still sticky on your skin. Neither of you seems to care.
"How did you know something was so wrong?" Felix finally asked, the air cooler and quieter now. You have no idea how much time has passed, but it sounds as though the party was winding down. Oliver's party.
"He wasn't that drunk," you said after a long moment of deliberation, "could see it in his eyes," taking a deep breath, you cast your gaze to the guest of honour, completely still, chest no longer shifting with shallow, frantic breathes, "if he wasn't drunk, why was he sick?" Sighing, you leaned into Felix. You felt so hollow; "everything Oliver Quick did, he did with purpose."
522 notes · View notes
alyswritings · 4 months
Note
love that you write for jj!! could you maybe do a jj x sister fic where his sister is on the younger side (8-10? idk) and gets scared of him when he gets too rambunctious when he’s drunk bc it reminds her of their dad!! thank you xxx
The pogues were throwing a small party at the chateau, drunk teenagers all out in the yard. Y/N had been instructed to not leave the room and keep the door locked. She had managed to fall asleep to a movie, but the music and teenagers just got louder, waking her up from her slumber.
Y/N keeps a tight hold on the stuffed animal pressed to her chest as she watches them party outside.
After a while, Y/N tries to go back to sleep, but fails to do so, all the noise only seeming to get louder.
Y/N huffs, staring at the door in thought. She decides to go against her brother's orders and unlocks the door, walking to the back door. She tightly hugs her stuffed animal to her chest, walking outside.
Y/N spots her brother and goes out into the yard, starting to make her way over to him. She watches JJ chug a beer, letting out a yell once he finishes, the boy grinning.
"Let's go, baby!" JJ shouts, stumbling and losing his balance. He laughs as he clumsily gets up.
Y/N frowns, watching him loudly talk over the music to the other people.
"Y/N?" She turns to the voice, watching Pope walk over to her. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"
"I can't sleep." She says, frowning.
"Okay. You want me to get JJ?" Pope asks.
Y/N looks over at where her brother is, watching him shotgun a beer and yell in accomplishment once he finishes it.
Y/N goes to answer, but the two are interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Y/N/N!" JJ cheers, making his way over. "Hey, baby, what's up?" He grins, ruffling her hair. Y/N curls into herself, not liking how alcohol reeks off of him. "What you doing out here, kid?"
"No." The girl shakes her head, latching onto Pope.
JJ frowns in confusion as Pope picks her up.
"Y/N." JJ touches her back, but she whines and blindly swats at him to get him away. His frown deepens and he looks at Pope who helplessly shrugs.
Pope carries her back inside, going back to the bedroom. He locks the door and goes over to the window, shutting the blinds.
"Did the party wake you up?" Pope asks, setting her on the bed.
"Mm-hmm." Y/N nods, lying down.
Pope tucks her in, turning a nightlight on.
"Is JJ okay?" She asks.
"Yeah. Yeah, he's okay. Why?" Pope asks.
"He's louder than usual." Y/N sighs. "And he keeps stumbling and tripping."
"Yeah. Yeah, no, he's fine. He just... he's had a lot to drink. He's fine, though." Pope promises.
"I don't like him drunk." Y/N says. "He reminds me of dad." She frowns.
Pope sighs, rubbing her arm.
"He's not like your dad." Pope assures. "He wouldn't ever hurt you."
"Maybe not on purpose." Y/N mumbles. "He's just too loud. It's scary."
"Trust me, drunk or sober, JJ's never doing anything to put you in any harm." Pope tells her.
Pope puts a movie on for her and leaves. He looks up, noticing JJ leaning against the opposite wall.
"Dude..." Pope starts.
"No. No, nah, it-- it's fine." JJ dismisses. "I'm just... I'm gonna hang out in here for a bit."
"Okay." Pope nods, leaving.
JJ sighs, staring at the closed door. He wants to go in and talk to his sister, having overheard her conversation with Pope, but knows right now is a terrible time.
So he settles for just sitting outside the room with a bottle of water to sober up.
---
The next day, Kie helps Y/N get ready and gets her some cereal, the girl sitting at the table while she eats. The boys are all outside, getting the supplies for fishing and packing the boat up.
JJ goes inside to find snacks. He notices his sister at the table and motions to Kie. The teen girl nods and goes outside, leaving the two siblings.
"Hey, kiddo." JJ greets, sitting next to her. "Cocoa Puffs?" He nods to the bowl and she nods. "Nice." He comments. Y/N just nods, continuing to eat.
"So, um... what were you doing outside last night?" JJ asks.
"I couldn't sleep. It was too loud." Y/N says.
"Right. Yeah, sorry." JJ apologizes. "But, um, a-about the-- you just wanting Pope. I, um... I might've heard you and Pope talkin' last night."
Y/N sighs, looking up at him.
"I don't like when you're drunk." Y/N says. "It reminds me of dad."
JJ's chest tightens at her words, the pain hitting him 100 times harder now that he's sober.
"Y/N/N..." JJ leans down so he's closer to her line of sight. "I would never hurt you, no matter what."
"You're really loud when you're drunk." Y/N says. "That's the big reason."
"I'm sorry, Y/N." JJ frowns. "Hey." He puts his hand on her head and makes her look at him. "I promise, I won't drink in front of you ever again, okay? You're not comfortable with it, it won't happen."
"Really?" Y/N asks.
"Really." JJ nods, holding his pinky out to her. Y/N wraps her pinky around his. "We okay?"
Y/N nods, getting up and hugging JJ. He tightly holds her, rubbing her back.
"One more thing." JJ gently pushes her away a bit. "I know it's really confusing why dad does what he does to us. At your age, at my age, at any age. But, I swear on my life, I will never hit you."
Y/N nods, smiling at him. JJ kisses her on the forehead, pulling her back into another hug.
286 notes · View notes
madi-writes-things · 4 months
Text
Making The Bed (Johnie Guilbert X Reader)
Summary:
Pushing away all the people that know me the best…
Word Count: 1,415
TW: Passing Out, ED, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Self Deprecation, Self Destructive Thoughts and Actions, Avoiding Foods, Parties, Drinking, Johnnie Being a Supportive and Good Boyfriend, platonic!Jake Webber
A/N: this has been in my drafts for like three months. Sorry if it seems rushed or anything, I fell asleep halfway through writing it and finished when I woke up. 🫶
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“”“”“”“”“”
Y/N’s POV
I stand in the bathroom, obsessively typing the calories from the meal I just ate into the calorie counter that I promised I wouldn’t redownload. I didn’t mean for it to get like this again, but here I am. It just started as a few missed snacks, which turned into meals, and it all snowballed into daily weigh-ins and days with no food. I stop by the mirror for a moment, and I regret it immediately… the second I see myself, I feel my stomach churn.
The worst part of this is the lying to the people close to me… I don’t push them away on purpose, it just makes it easier. On days where I don’t see Johnnie much, I’m able to go the whole day without eating. I know that he’ll find out eventually, but I can’t let it be now.
In an ironic way I find it funny how people on the internet find out what you struggle with, and do their best to make it worse. The only reason that I started skipping snacks, was because people started commenting on my weight gain. It’s not the people who praise me for looking healthier, the issue is the people who spew my worst fears in the comments.
I know in the back of my head, that I will lose everything I’ve worked for if I don’t stay skinny. Johnnie won’t want me, Jake won’t chose me over him, Tara won’t want someone like me as a friend, my fans will get tired of me once I’m not interesting to look at, my family wo-
I hear Johnnie lightly knock on the bathroom door, pulling me from my doom spiral. “you okay in there babe?”
Shit.
I quickly wipe my face off, leaving no trace of the tears that were spilled. “Yeah! Be out in just a second.” Sometimes I wonder if he knows, and he’s happy that I’m losing weight. No. He’s not like that.
“”“”“”“”“”
I think Jake knows…
He stared me down after making me lunch. I think he was trying to see if I actually ate it. He made pasta, and I cried in the bathroom for thirty minutes after leaving the table. I saw him staring at me anytime we were in the same room after that.
Now I’m climbing into his car with Johnnie and Tara, headed to an influencer party. I’m wearing a cute Tank + Cropped Hoodie with skeleton hand’s bedazzled on the tits, and a pair of high waisted jeans. I knew that going out was a bad idea, but I have to stay under Jake’s radar… if he says anything to Johnnie, I’m done for.
I offer to be designated driver when we pull up, there’s no way I’m drinking tonight. One shot of vodka is nearly 100 calories, and vodka is the lowest calorie alcohol I’ve found. Everyone agrees pretty easily.
“”“”“”“”“”
The party has been going on for hours, and all of my friends were pretty tipsy at this point. I decided to go sit with Tara a little bit ago, and now we’re talking about her latest hookup. “He was literally so pretty… and his dick was huge!” She nearly falls over laughing at my reaction. I tell her I’m going to grab a water from the cooler, and find the guys so we can head out.
The second I stand up, everything goes blurry for a second. Shit. I don’t think I’ve had anything to eat since Jake made me, and that was like three days ago. I reach out and steady myself on Tara’s shoulder, as she asks if I’m okay. I mutter a quick yes, as I start walking away. It’s takes a second for my eyes to focus again, but most people just seem to assume I’m drunk.
Once I find the guys, we head out. My head is pounding, and all I want is to get home and go straight to bed. Once we finally get to our room, Johnnie holds me tight in his arms as we drift to sleep.
“”“”“”“”“”
The party was two days ago, and while I know I shouldn’t, I took advantage of everyone’s hangovers. I still haven’t eaten or drank anything other than water. Every morning I wake up lighter than the day before, and I’m not risking gaining any weight at this point.
Today is different, Jake and Johnnie are wide awake. The guys have been filming all morning, and they asked me if I wanted to join them in a video… I obviously agreed. I’ve missed my boyfriend, and I doubt he’d notice anything while we’re out at target.
“”“”“”“”“”
We stopped at three different targets before finding one that would let us film, totaling about an hour and a half of driving around. We’ve been walking around this target for a while, but the lights are too bright and I can’t seem to make my brain work hard enough to figure out how long.
I’m standing in the board game isle when it happens. I see Johnnie’s face fall when he sees me. “Babe, are you okay? You look really pa…” I don’t even hear the full sentence before everything turns to static.
“”“”“”“”“”
Johnnie’s POV
It all happens so fast. One second we’re laughing at something stupid, the next second Y/N has gone completely silent. “Babe, are you okay? You look really pale.” Then it happens. I watch as her eyes roll back into her skull.
Shit.
I barely move fast enough to stop her from hitting her head on the ground. “Jake! Go get some juice and a granola bar.” He practically drops the camera before breaking into a sprint across the store.
nononono… how long have I missed this? It all starts clicking into place… the long bathroom breaks after meals, the pulling away, the way she offered to not drink. Jake returns within 30 seconds, and Y/N starts to stir in my arms.
“”“”“”“”“”
Y/N’s POV
Everything feels like static… I think my eyes are open, but I still can’t see anything. I reach up, and my hand graces something, it takes me a second to register that it’s my loving boyfriend. I mutter a quick apology, and I hear him talking to someone but it’s so muffled. I don’t know how long I lay there before I start to regain feeling in my body. I can’t tell if I’m shaking, but I feel like I’m having a seizure or something.
once I’m able to sit up on my own Johnnie hands me a juice box and a granola bar. I can see Jake sitting across the aisle, also sipping a juice box. They wait until I’m done with my snack before talking. “Baby, I need you to be honest… when is the last time you ate?”
Shitshitshitshit. “I had lunch with Jake.” I try to sound confident, but my voice is shaky. I see Johnnie look across the aisle at Jake, questioning whether I was telling the truth.
“Y/N… that was almost a week ago.” He looks at me with a nearly indecipherable expression, but I know it well. Pity. “Is that really the last time you ate?”
Seeing how worried my they are breaks me. I only allow myself to break down because we are in a fairly secluded area of the store. Johnnie pulls me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. We stay like that for a while before heading home.
“”“”“”“”“”
Three Months Later
That day was a massive wake up call. Johnnie let me take a nap when we got home, while I slept they assembled friends and family. When I woke up they held an intervention. They gave me the choice to Go to an inpatient treatment, or try to get better at home… I chose getting better at home, scared that nobody would wait for me.
That night we worked out a plan. Johnnie made me a meal plan full of foods that I felt safe eating, we threw out the bathroom scale, and we deleted the calorie counter. It wasn’t an overnight change, but I had amazing support from the people around me.
Johnnie is truly the man of my dreams. He never stops telling me how much he loves me, and reassuring me that he would never leave me. He is the reason I wake up in the morning, and I know that he will always be there.
“”“”“”“”“”
@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi @stasiesturn
@h3arts4harry @slutforsturniolos
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eyesxxyou · 1 year
Note
I am not really sure if you still write for hobie, but if you do...
Inexperienced! Reader who wanted to do more than just making out but since they're not in a relationship she think she would look desperate until one day hobie notices her being really stiff in the moment. He later finds out by poking at her that is because she doesn't wanna loose control and him to notice she doesn't really know that's much...yeah
So he lets her ride him😽😻
Hope you can make something of it I live your writing!
hehehehehehe I love this
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You and Hobie have been together for months now. Months and you two have never even approached the idea of sex. It’s your fault, really. The anxiety of not being able to perform in a way that even begins to measure up to that of his past partners kept you from letting him proceed any further than slipping his hands beneath the fabric of your shirt and feeling up your skin. Any further and you’d retract, you’d retreat from him so fast he’d almost think that he hurt you. You were insecure, knowing that your sexual experiences were limited and not very good. All of two of them leaving you feeling guilty and unsatisfied in yourself and them.
“We don’ gotta do anythin’ you don’ wanna, luv.” Hobie would assure you, gently peppering your lips in kisses to soothe your nerves. He was so understanding, so patient with you. You knew he was simply dying not to be able to act on any of his natural urges but he never made it known to you if he was frustrated. For a second, you almost feared he might find his satisfaction in someone else, that you weren’t enough for him.
When you made your fears known to him, Hobie couldn’t help but let out something like a laugh and a snort at the idea. “Hun, you’re more than ‘nough fo me. Woul’n’t be wit’ ya otherwise. Don’ worry ya pretty lil’ head ‘bout tings like tha’.” He’s good at making you feel safe and secure in your relationship. So thoughtlessly convincing that you knew he was telling the truth. You’ve never caught him in a lie, never heard anyone say anything against the integrity of his character.
You wanted so desperately to please him and after much pep-talking yourself in the bathroom mirror after your shower, standing in a pretty silk camisole and his favorite little pair of your little white panties with a little pink bow just at the band— you managed to gain just enough confidence in yourself to come walking out of the steam-filled bathroom with the sole purpose that you were finally going to have sex with your lovely boyfriend.
He just happened to be lying in bed, strumming his guitar with his skilled fingers, a little song he's been working on for the past week now. His eyes flickered up from his guitar to check up on you, only to find you in those skimpy little panties you knew he loved so much and a matching cami top with no obvious bra in sight. "Wha's this then?"
You stood at the foot of the bed, fiddling with your fingers anxiously as you shrugged, all your feigned confidence melting out of your body at once. "I jus' thought—"
"Jus' though' wha'?" Hobie put his guitar to the side and crawled across the bed towards you. His large, calloused hands coming to find purchase on your hips as he knelt before you. He pulled your close, pressed his face into your supple stomach before looking up at you. "Though' you'd come and seduce me, then? Is tha' i'?" His hands slid up and slipped beneath the silky fabric of your top. The rough calluses of his fingertips caress the soft, plush skin of your belly. Then he lifted your shirt, just enough to trail kisses down your navel to the band of your underwear. "Comin' in here, lookin' all pretty."
You love how loved Hobie makes you. You loved the way he seemed to worship every piece of flesh he managed to get his hands on like it was his honor to be touching you rather than the truth, it was your honor to be touched by him.
“I wanna try it tonight.” You cast your gaze away due to your shyness, not even able to say the word.
Hobie chuckled softly at your timidness. “Wha’? You wanna fuck?” He laughed even harder as you slap his shoulder and purse your lips at his vulgarity. “Don’ be so shy, babe. I’m jus’ clarifyin’.” He let your shirt fall back down and fell back onto your shared bed with his head against the pillows.
Before you knew it, you were on top of him, your panties pulled to the side and his pants pulled down just enough to reveal the length of his aching cock. How quickly he got hard for you, just for you, in all your innocent, inexperienced glory. You were slowly lowering yourself down on his dick, your tight cunt swallowing his length bit by bit, inch by inch, each micromovement making you shudder and whine while Hobie kept guiding your hips down, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “Tha’s i’, good. Keep goin’ jus’ like tha’.”
You whined at the stretch of him parting you walls and forcing you to make room for him. Every ridge, every vein as inch by excruciating inch was fed into you was felt with hypersensitivity. Maybe you were a tad bit overzealous because Hobie whined slightly, a smile easing onto his lips as his hands gripped harder on your hips. "Easy now, baby. Go slow." His scarred, rough hands slid between your legs and parted the soft flesh of your thighs to get a better look through the darkness.
You moaned as you reached the hilt, sticky skin meeting sweaty skin as Hobie leaned back against his pillow and groaned, head tilted back to reveal his prominent Adam's apple beneath that thin layer of flesh over his throat. You didn't know what came over you but you hand gravitated towards his neck and settled there with comfortable welcome. And to your surprise, Hobie didn't protest it. His easy smile still ghosts over his lips. "I didn' ‘xpect you to be the chokin’ type." He teased. "Go ‘head then. Commit." He coaxed you to squeeze, even instructed you on how to do it properly. "Jus’ lightly on the sides, don' crush my win’pipe now." You did as instructed, nails slightly digging into dark chocolate-toned skin as you squeezed just against the sides. You were nervous about all of this, scared that you might be hurting him, but he seemed to enjoy your proactiveness.
"Keep ya eyes on me, luv." He sighs, hands rocking you hips back and forth. "Don't take your eyes off of me." You took this as you sign to start, your thighs flexing as you rose and relaxing as you let yourself fall. It was so much. Too much maybe. He reached further than anyone has before, deep and thick and terribly good. Skin meets skin once again. The intermingling of sweat and lingering moans. Everything was felt. His rough hands guided your hips, every little movement pushing him further into you, the vibrations of his throat against your palm as he moaned.
You rode him hard, desperate for a release that hasn't been granted to you for years. Too many failed attempts. Hobie, caressing you while you fucked him, humming soft words of praise to feed you ego made you feel like those other times were never meant to happen in the first place. As far as you’re concerned, this is your first time. He never stops looking at you, eyeing out you silhouette in the darkness. Long braids fell over your shoulder and brushed against Hobie’s exposed torso as you leaned forward. "Hobie," his name a prayer on you lips. He adores it, adores you. Every last mole and scar, every piercing, every blemish. The prettiest girl he's ever seen.
"I know, princess, I know. You got i’."
You want to tell him to keep talking to you like that, constantly reassuring you, offering motivation despite the burning pain in your thighs from continuous movement. You never knew men spoke so much during sex. It sounded so sweet coming from his thick lips. All your previous lovers were absolutely silent the entire time. His voice softens the blow, words not particularly obscene in any definable way yet still able to get you wet with just as much effect as if he had eaten you out.
He knows just when to stop and start, what to say to keep you going, when to just let things ride out. He controls every movement under the guise that you have the control. Maybe they share it because the way you have him on the edge of control is completely ridiculous in his opinion.
Hobie decided to help you along, knows girls have to focus a little harder to cum, and weighed the pad of his thumb on your clit. He circles it, coaxing a few whiny moans from your kiss-swollen lips. Your hand fell from his throat to grasp at his shirt in search of more stability, thin brows pulling together in concentration as you struggled to keep your eyes open.
There’s a climax in the way you breathe, a slow building of wont and indescribable pleasure. A climax that leads to anotyou, a crippling one that builds in the pit of your core with each rising breath. You pussy pulses in waves, clenching and unclenching, and never before has Hobie so desperately wished to be bare inside a woman, have that skin-to-skin contact unable to be replicated any other way. You're far more advantageous in your aggression, desperate for that point of no return.
Between labored breaths, Hobie asks, "are ya close? Hmm? You gonna cum fa me, babe?" All you could do was moan loud enough to cover the soft clapping of skin and the sticky peel apart maybe from the sweat that covers your skin in a soft, gleaming layer, maybe from something far more profane.
"That's not gonna work for me, sweetheart. Use your words." You never expected Hobie to be so big on vocalization. It makes sense. He always preferred people to just be out with their intentions, couldn't stand hidden meanings and implications. Say it. Tell him. And he'd give you all you desired.
You shuttered, muscles tightening all at once. "Gonna-" hardly even a warning before you orgasm clung to you and ravished your body almost to your surprise. Muscles ripple, walls clamping desperately to Hobie's cock buried deep within you. you would have fallen if Hobie hadn't sat up to catch you, letting you rest you body upon his with you face buried into the nape of his neck. you nails claw at the back of his neck as his name rings out in a cry against his ear.
"Jus’ a lil’ more, baby. 'm almost there." Hobie keeps your hips moving and like a good girl, a bit more obedient than you would have liked yourself to be, you keep riding him. Neither of them thought the sounds coming from them could have been even more pornographic but the sticky, wet, sloppiness of him diving in and out of your quivering pussy was giving them a run for their money. "So fuckin’ good." He moaned, grasping onto any piece of flesh available to him.
You never been embraced in such a way, held onto like you were his lifeline. You never expected Hobie to get so personal during sex. Always thought him to be the detached type. But the way he was groaning in your warmth, holding you as close as he possibly could despite the humid stickiness between them told you something entirely different. The feel of his rough hands on smooth skin is proof that this was what sex was supposed to be. It was supposed to be intimate and close, and passionate. You were supposed to feel good about yourself. You were supposed to push Hobie’s hair out of his face and look him in the eyes. You kissed him and he kissed you back with such harshness you could have mistaken his actions as a form of cannibalism.
“How was it?” You asked softly against his lips, nervous about how well you did. Was it good enough? Did you compare in any way, shape or form to his past lovers? You just wanted to be enough.
Hobie kissed you once more. “Perfect.”
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ponderingmoonlight · 10 months
Text
Yuta finding out you've got severely injured at Shibuya and freaking out
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Pairing: Yuta x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,8k
Synopsis: When the news of Shibuya begin to flood in, Yuta almost loses his mind over you. Without thinking twice he pays you, the secret love of his life, a visit.
Warnings: reader is depressed over her injury/disabilities so if that's not for you don't read it, Yuta is very confident in this one like he should, hurt/injury, comfort with my boy Yuta in the end
„Don’t tell me she was there too.”
Pictures flood Yuta’s mind uncontrollably. Your oh so gorgeous doe eyes, your breath-taking smile. You with your hair done the way you know he likes, you in that uniform that suits you so well.
You, lying on the floor covered in your own blood.
The news of what happened at Shibuya already pulled the ground underneath his feet. But given the fact that everyone was involved like Miguel said, you must have been there. They would be reckless to not rely on your powers.
You, a grade 2 sorcerer who would have become a grade 1 within the next few months. You, who promised him that you’ll stay safe.
“Hey, don’t worry about me, okay? This is a great opportunity to get a hold of your great powers, Yuta. I mean of course I’ll miss you terribly, but not enough to destroy this for you. Watch out.”
He had a bad feeling right from the start. After everything that happened just a few months ago, letting you go was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. But you were right with what you’ve said, to accompany Miguel and invest his time into training really was the wisest thing he could do back then.
Except for leaving you behind.
“You mean (y/n)? Both you and I know she definitely was.”
His heart drops in an instant, eyes widen in nothing but pure horror. Hearing that none other that Satoru Gojo got sealed, countless lives ended within only a couple of hours…
You can’t be dead, right? No, it’s simply impossible that you leave him alone like this.
“I hate the thought of dying during some pointless battle. This just doesn’t make sense to me, y’know? I’d rather die as a hero or not at all until I’m old and ugly.”
“But (y/n), you’re a jujutsu sorcerer. Many people just die on the battlefield without a special purpose.”
“I won’t, then.”
God, your wide smile back then. It really made him believe that you are the type to survive everything, that nothing and no one is able to bring you down.
But Shibuya managed to even get a hold of the strongest of them all. So what about you?
His lips begin to tremble uncontrollably, hands clenched into fists so tightly that blood begins to spill.
“Tell me she’s alright. Tell me (y/n) made it without getting hurt.”
Miguel signs, the sheer power that radiates from Yuta’s shaking figure running shivers down his spine.
“As far as I know she managed to get out…Somehow.”
That means you’re alive, right? That means you were able to escape certain death. But…
At what cost?
“How is she, then? Tell me already”, Yuta barks at the man standing in front of him.
God, he can’t lose you. Not know. Not when he wasn’t even able to admit his feelings to you, to thank you for always standing by his side, before telling you how much he adores you with all his heart.
“I don’t know! Everything is pure chaos over there”, Miguel replies dryly.
“If that’s so, I will go and pay her a visit.”
“Now? Did you forget you’re here to get trained by me? You can’t just fly over there because of a girl-“
“She is more than just a girl”, Yuta interrupts him immediately.
“And I will go and look after her myself.”
-At Jujutsu High-
Urgh, how much you hate opening your eyes since that fateful day. Yes, you are very much alive and in proud possession of all your limbs. But that’s it, basically.
“Hey, how you’re doing?”
“Better than yesterday, still not fine I guess.”
It haunts you. The pictures of Shibuya plague your mind day in day out. Closing your eyes means seeing all of their faces before they die, opening them reminds you of the fact that you survived despite losing everything else. The sight of your left eye, the ability to move your arms freely, your capability to walk a straight line. The fucking special grade curses hit you hard, burned you to the ground, sliced you open like a fish.
And now you’re laying here as one of the few people that survived Shibuya. Right next to Shoko who cares for you every free minute.
“So glad you didn’t tell me you hate your life again, pessimism doesn’t suit you at all. What would that boy say if he could hear you blow misery?”
That boy named Yuta. It seems like everyone except himself knows about the huge crush you have on him. Well, not very surprising considering the fact that you talk about him day in and out, asking whenever he’s doing fine in that foreign land before even saying hallo.
“Haven’t heard from him since that shit happened. My phone got kinda destroyed and well, most of the time I laid here passed out on the bed”, you reply briefly, staring at the ceiling with no aim.
Oh, how much you long for him, how much you miss to hear his comforting words in the middle of the night. But you know it wouldn’t be wise to tell him what happened. As far as you can tell, Yuta would take the next flight to Tokyo and stay by your side day and night. And even though that sounds more than appealing to you, you just know this isn’t what he needs. He needs to stay where he is, safe and sound while sharpening his abilities. And you aren’t on that list.
“Well, someone definitely told him.”
You squint your functioning eye, staring at the unbothered woman in front of you in confusion. What the hell is she talking about?
“Why are you saying that?”
“(y/n)!?”
Your heart stops, eyes widen. That voice. That oh so familiar voice you heard over the phone for these past months. The voice you dreamed of day and night. Can it really be…
“Yuta?” you breathe out, eye searching for his familiar figure.
Yes, is really is him, standing in the middle of the room with his familiar white uniform. He looks so…different. The dark circles under his eyes are completely gone by now, his dark blue eyes glooming in the dim light. He definitely is a few inches taller than last time, features more mature than before. And his hair…it seems like he finally began to style it a little.
Without hesitation he storms towards you, glistening orbs scanning what’s left of your crippled body.
Yuta feels like dying. You’ve been through so much; your usual bright eyes show nothing but emptiness and agony. What did they do to you? Why does it have to be you? You, the most precious human being walking on this earth. You, the girl he’s secretly in love with since that horrible fight over a year ago. He can’t stop the tears from taking his sight, hands desperately grabbing yours.
“I’m so sorry (y/n). I should have been by your side. I shouldn’t have left you here alone, I-“
“Shut up, Yuta”, you interrupt him before hearing another word.
“You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t expect our first meeting to be when I…look like this…”, you mumble, gaze avoiding him at any cost.
“What are you talking about, (y/n)?”
His heart hammers against his chest, hands on their way to gently caress your cheek when you just turn away.
“All this time I had the chance to tell you that I love you and now…Look at me. Shoko said I might be never able to see again, countless scars will be visible on my body for the rest of my life. My leg got completely destroyed, to the point where even she might not be able to fix it. I’m not the (y/n) you know anymore. I’m a shadow of myself”, you bark at him.
Fuck, don’t cry, don’t let feelings overwhelm you. After all, Nanami-san told you how well you fought.
Just before dying in front of your very own eyes.
Your hands begin to tremble uncontrollably again when pictured of all the death and misery flood your mind. Why can’t you just turn it off? Why aren’t you strong enough to outstand all of this? Desperately you hold your own head, squinting your eyes shut. Please, just let it stop. Let it all go away.
Yuta doesn’t think twice. Gently, he places his hands on top of yours while pressing your head against his chest. It’s just not fair. When he left, you wore your smile so effortlessly, your joyful personality radiating to the outside for everyone to see. But now…you look so broken it kills him from the inside.
“I love you too, (y/n). Just the way you are. No matter how injured, no matter how bad you feel. I will always see the striking (y/n) with the most breath-taking smile and the worst humour of all times in you. We’ll get through this together, okay? I won’t leave your side.”
You crumble against his chest, letting everything out your hid so well within these last couple of hours. Oh, how much you fucking missed him, how much you longed for his touch all this time. Is it really possible that he doesn’t care about your state? Could it really be that…
Yuta Okkotsu loves you the way you are?
“You don’t care about how miserable I am?”, you whimper, taking in his delicious scent that hasn’t change even after all this time.
“Not the slightest. But I will kill everyone who did this to you without blinking”, he remarks in all seriousness.
You gaze up at him. The unsure boy in him seems to be vanished in thin air, eyes filled with confidence while he balls his fists behind your head.
Yuta Okkotsu might have changed, but the tenderness he holds in his gaze when his eyes meet yours is still the same.
“I swear that nothing like this will ever happen again. I’ll stay here with your and will make sure you’re safe.”
Your glossy eyes widen, mind trying to process his words.
“But you…you weren’t even supposed to be here. You still have to train-“
“No training in the world is more important than you. I love you, (y/n). And even though I wasn’t able to admit it back then, I want to stay by your side.”
 And then is lips meet yours. Before he losing the courage to finally do what he dreamed of countless nights, to make sure you understand how much you mean to him. He will make them pay for what they did to you, he will move heaven and earth to make sure they get the punishment they deserve.
But for now, he gently strokes your hair while kissing you with all the desire he hit over the past months, will all the love he holds for you.
“I’ll be there for you, okay? And I will kill every single one of them with my own hands.”
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi
there you have it @lees-chaotic-brain I really hope you like it <3 I know this isn't your request yet but I thought you'll enjoy some Yuta content still @belovedvamp
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jolapeno · 7 months
Text
4. green smoke
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter four of do me yourself
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summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used, you wear a date outfit but not specified and the shoes have heels but not mentioned what kind. minor discussion of past canon events incl. drugs. no use of y/n. an: if this as a friends episode this would be called "the one where they talk"
prev chapter | frankie's ig
key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics
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Friday soon arrives.
It comes hand-in-hand with a tumultuous storm, bringing with it ominous rumbles echoing through your house. The air feels charged with tension, wrung tight, all sense—as if it’s holding its breath while the world around seems to retreat into darkness. Even if the time on your laptop says 14:43.
Your gaze fixates on beads of rain running down the window, all racing one another—like you have been for several minutes. The steady patter provides a rhythmic backdrop to your solitude, interrupted only by the occasional sighs that escape your lips and the soft tapping of your pencil against the notebook—a feeble attempt at pretending you’re concentrating.
Pretend is the optimum word.
Merely putting on a show of focusing on the task at hand. In reality, your eyes keep flicking to your phone—the one lying silent on the counter, eagerly anticipating the next notification that’ll make it illuminate.
Your work, the one thankfully with a deadline of next week, continues to sit ignored—barely considered, never mind plotted. Because it isn’t what fills your mind.
It’s him.
Just thoughts of him—mind populated with vivid memories that refuse to fade, unable to stop lingering on the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles or his infectious laugh. The one which has dug itself a place into the walls of your home, lit it up.
Then, you think of his lips, the ones that are purposeful, all heavenly. The mere thought of them sends a shiver down your spine, a longing present, spreading—
Unloading a delivery and you’re falling on me.
It's difficult not to smile at his message.
Something he effortlessly elicits from you now. Has done so since the very beginning. A thing he continues to do so the more the two of you speak.
It's giddy, almost teenage-like, the way your heart scampers to catch itself as your fingers try to pretend they're not darting to reply.
Excuse me? Rain. Oh, that is such a dad joke. It was. I’m pretty proud of it. Bet it made you smile. I will not confirm or deny. So that means it did. Shut up.
Thumbs swirling over the screen, you roll your lips, toes twitching on the floor as you grin.
So, how big is the candle going to be in the middle of the table? Ummm, appropriately sized for a restaurant? Hmm, I have only gone on dates with inappropriately sized candles. Are you flirting with me when I’m at work? Are you saying that like you don’t flirt with me when I’m at work? In my defence, you choose your own hours. Do you mind me flirting with you? Not even a little bit. Good. Because guess what I’m wearing right now? Hopefully nothing. I’m wearing sweats and a baggy T-shirt. Still hot. Get back to work, Butterscotch.
You know it’s not long—a handful of hours until you’ll be across from him.
Likely with your smile hurting your cheeks, eyes unable to stand looking away from him for more than a few minutes. Unable to explain or rationalise how straightforward it is with him, how natural it feels to get swept up in all of this and find yourself wanting to be around him.
Something you try to put to the back of your mind, to not clock-watch, not count down. Doing well at it until you hear your phone buzz and see his name appear on your screen.
The laundry you're putting away ignored, the item dropped from your hand to the floor, before wiping your hands on your thighs, taking a measured breath, then lifting the phone to swipe it.
His voice fills your ear almost immediately. All hello and your name, a can you hear me? following.
And your heart skips a beat—missing a whole thud against your ribs as you stare at the outfit hanging on the closet door.
“I’m really sorry—“
And your heart falls. Descends gradually, like a feather freefalling. Doing so until it has nowhere else to go but sit in the hollow void. Disappointment beating, pulsating.
“—Harold… he had to leave early, his heart was playing up and he said he’d come back. But I can’t make him do that, wouldn’t be able to enjoy ourselves if he just—"
“—Frankie—“
“—And I’ve tried to move the reservation, rang the restaurant. But, they’re booked up and I really want to take you there—”
“—Frankie?”
You brush the fabric, the hanger holding on to the top of the door with sheer will as you do so between thumb and finger. Half-smiling—even still. Listening to the way he takes a breath, to the way he cares so much.
“It’s okay,” you interrupt, swallowing, shoving the dismay down. “I… promise.”
The voice you hear back is soft. So tinged with sadness, and regret, you half-want to call him Butterscotch just to make him laugh. “You sure?”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you reassure him, comfort him—voice steady as you do so, "We can reschedule. It's not a problem."
A moment of silence follows, with a sense of letdown settling in the air like fog. It sits there, resting, hanging. Because even if you know it’s just a minor adjustment, a twinge of disappointment still seeps in. Not so much a sharp pang, but a lingering weight that makes your shoulders sag, as though everything had deflated like a balloon slowly losing air.
“Baby… I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him, a smile making its way onto your face despite the circumstances. "There's always next time."
“Not drove you away then?” he half-laughs, one you imagine is a little forced.
“Not even a little bit.”
Sighing, you swear you hear him smile with it. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
You grin, nothing but light and easy, “Just make sure next time you can show up, that’ll be a good start."
Frankie laughs, it flowing down your ear before it’s joined by a promise that he will and he can call you later, if you like? A thing which sounds like a good idea, even more so when it's followed by the fact he wishes he could stay—talk, but you know. Nodding to no one but yourself as you bid him goodbye, leaning against the wall—hanging up, full of bittersweet.
You let your head fall against it, rolling it there as your eyes flick back up at your clothes, lingering over it.
And an idea appears.
It grows—smothering over sadness before it blooms.
Then, you’re grinning. One almost as large as you do when he makes you giggle. Almost.
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You’re thankful the sign still says open when you step out of your car—fingers tugging at fabric, ensuring it sits how it’s supposed to.
Even for a surprise, you wanted to look as picture-perfect as you should have been entering the restaurant. The paper bags catch your leg, noise crinkling against the air as you yank on the handle—entering, being washed in wood chippings, bleach and paint.
For a moment, one stuck between time and space, you look. Glance. Unsure where to find him, until your eyes land on him and find his head lifting at the sound of your entering.
Whatever Frankie had been in his hand dropped, all forgotten. His mouth parting at the sight of you. Taking you in. Sweeping brown, surprised eyes all over you as heat rises up your neck and brushes over your ears.
“I know I’m a little overdressed for buying a hammer, but…”
Mouth falling open, he looks torn between grinning and speaking. “What are you…”
Shrugging, watching his eyes roam up and down the outfit you’d chosen. The one that had been on the hanger for days—one you’d not thought could be replaced by anything else.
“Well,” you begin, smirking, “My date got caught up at work and I’d been really looking forward to seeing him.”
Frankie smiles, hand rubbing along his jaw as he stares.
“But then, someone told me there’s a secret restaurant here. One behind a metal door that says, Staff Only?”
Dropping his hand, and swiping his tongue across his lips—he slowly moves around the register. Coming to join you as you hold the bags up, the heels of your shoes clicking on the shop floor tiles as you meet him halfway.
“I also suspect that you might not have eaten, since you've been alone for most of the day.”
It’s at that moment his stomach roars. It grinds, what you assume is coffee, before groaning inside of him as he claps a hand on his apron.
“The only problem is,” you say, narrowing your eyes, scrunching your nose. “I… I didn’t know what you would like, so I might have bought a ridiculous amount of food.”
Taking a bag, his eyes widen when he opens it. “You’re staying, right? To help me?”
Reaching inside the bag he didn’t take, you pull out a single, battery-powered candle. “It’s a date.”
He gives you a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "I just need to lock up," he says.
You watch with a flutter of excited nervousness as he moves around the store, flipping the sign on the door from 'Open' to 'Closed', and then securing the door. The lock clicks into place, echoing in the quiet store. He then proceeds to shut off the lights, plunging the store into a soft, inviting darkness lit only by the glow from the streetlights outside.
Turning back to you, he extends a hand.
"Shall we?" he asks, his voice filled with anticipation. You place your hand in his, feeling the warmth spreading through your fingers.
As you walk together towards the back of the store, a tinge of excitement flutters in the air. The 'Staff Only' sign looms above the door like a secret entrance to a place you shouldn't be, but with a gentle gesture, he ushers you inside.
You don't miss the way his fingers brush your lower back, the heat they ignite up your spine as his chest meets your back, face close to yours. Lingering, eyes sweeping over you.
"Lemme just..." he whispers, elongating it, before he bends to pull you a chair out—one with three wheels, no back—fingers sliding up to brush over your shoulders as you sit down.
“Careful.”
Swallowing, you suppress the effect he's having on you, forcing a smirk. “Oh, I’ll try, Morales. Don’t want you to have to fill out the accident book.”
“Harold would murder me.”
Snorting, you watch him join you—taking the candle from your hand, flicking it on and placing it directly in the middle before the two of you begin taking food out. He gazes at bundled packaged burgers, stealing a fry from the bag before it’s laid out over the desk.
“So, as it’s our third date.” His eyes flick to you, mid-bite of his food as you twirl a fry in your fingers. “I get to ask you challenging questions, right?”
“Fuck,” he says, under his breath. Grinning. “Alright, let me have it.”
Nudging him with the tip of your shoe he laughs. “Okay. You and Luca’s mom?”
“Ah.”
Grabbing a napkin, he wipes his mouth. “You don’t have to worry.”
“And as everyone in history knows, those words are how people stop worrying.”
Smirking, he turns on the wheely stool, facing you, knees abutting yours. “We haven’t been together since he was born—we… we weren’t even together by the time he reached six months. He… he doesn’t know any different. We have things we say, and truly, she’s a fantastic mom, we have a great co-parenting situation.”
“Okay.”
His fingers land on your knee, dancing over them, light and feathery as he sighs. Heavy. Weighted. It makes you swallow, makes you want to dig your fingers into your leg to stop yourself worrying, thinking—overdramatising whatever it is.
Scratching his head, he rolls his tongue from his cheek to the front of his teeth. “I wasn’t a good person then… a lot of shit had happened—I’d left the service, found myself… haunted, I guess? Me and her, we met, we… seemed good. She seemed good. And then, I…”
Your hand slides over his, one of your fries still in hand as you do. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I want to.”
Nodding, he half smiles.
And then he does.
He tells you about his days in the army—and the sleepless nights when he was back home. The sense of loss he felt without it, the uniform that meant nothing when he joined a regular job. How flying helicopters for people with money who had no cares in the world began to make him hollow, carving a piece inside of him that didn’t fill with laughter at barbecues and trivia nights. He tells you how he’d rambled to someone about the lack of sleep, before he found a little white bag in his locker—an opportunity, a chance to not overthink.
That it had stayed there for days, almost a week until there had been news about someone he had once worked with.
Then he explained how it wasn’t a problem, but it also very much was. How he was lost, drowning—that people reached out, but the lights had been on, but no one was home. How it became a coping mechanism, a small dose to take the ache away—before he learnt he was going to be a dad. Her worries about him making her ignore the signs, much further on than they thought—and then, one month later, how he failed a drug test.
Trace amounts, barely anything, but still plenty.
His license, revoked—paused. His future dwindled, a baby due to arrive, one he’d heard the heartbeat off at the same time as he found himself at the threat of being alone. A second chance dangled, offered—do better, Frank. Don’t be selfish.
“—but, I didn’t change. Don’t change.”
Your heart falls, and descends.
Watching him shake his head, grabbing a handful of fries before stuffing them into his mouth as he chews, and you pick at one from your own box.
“Things were good—Luca, he had ten toes, ten fingers. He was great, happy. It made us being good seem real? But, it lingered, y’know? If work kept me later, there was this distrust, this question. And I couldn’t blame her, didn’t. Never would either. I broke that, I know I did. But…”
“It wasn’t healthy?”
Shrugging, he swallows, before nodding. “Then, I helped a friend, one from my squad. Had to… it was dangerous. I was gone longer than I said—and she worried, panicked. I knew before I left that when I got back I’d likely find my stuff packed—not that I blame her. I know we tried. But, I broke it. But now we’re better… better co-parents than partners, you know?”
Nodding, you chew, rolling the salt on your lips together. A beat passes, ice clanging in the drinks, cartons scratching against the table as the two of you eat.
“That was probably a lot.”
“It’s okay. Are you… are you good now?”
Nodding, he chews another fry. “Clean since Luca was born. Five years, fifty-seven days.”
“Well, I know this might be weird to say, but I’m proud of you.”
Smiling, he chews his cheek, meeting your eyes for the first time since he began sharing. “You’re a bit too good for me, you know that?”
Smirking, you steal one of his fries. “Oh, a hundred per cent. You might have a bunch of followers and good taste in paint colours, but did you know that I can sand down a dresser to the point a prominent Instagram DIYer has told me ‘I did a good job’.”
“Doesn’t sound that trustworthy. Bet he doesn’t know what you call wrenches.”
Pouting, you narrow your eyes as he laughs. “Thank you for telling me.”
Nodding, he rolls his lips. “I had to… ‘cause… are we enacting third date-talk honesty?”
“Of course.”
Half-smiling, he nudges himself closer on the stool. “I really like you.”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you look up at the ceiling, before grabbing his knees and wheeling yourself closer. “I quite like you too.”
Smile spreading, he places his hands on top of yours. “Yeah? Because I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to… run from all of that.”
Smirking, you try to move closer, even if the wheels of both stools try to prevent you. “Did you know, honesty is really, really hot?”
Brows raising, chin lifting, his lips slide further into his cheek. “I’m glad you came.”
“I’m glad too.”
Swallowing, his fingers slide in between yours, eyes flicking from one eye to the other. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Dangerous, that.”
“Well, I’ve seen your house now.”
Nodding, you smile. Feeling it, whatever he’s going to say, ask, think lingering in the silence. His grin widens, a spark igniting in his eyes that sends a rush of warmth through you.
“So, I think it only seems fair you see mine.”
Wiping your hands on your napkin, licking your lips as you cross a leg over the other. “Well, for fair sake I definitely should.”
“Do you want to… now?”
“Tonight?”
Nodding, that same flush of pink rises up his neck, up his jaw.
Smirking, you loosen your hand from his—resting your palm on his cheek, elbow on your knee. “I’d like that.”
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The car ride to his should be tense, but it isn't.
Instead, it's filled with soft laughter, teasing comments and shared glances—your fingers twitching, wondering whether a hand on his knee is too soon. Even when everything else feels so normal, natural.
When he pulls up outside his place, anticipation fills the air—a rush of warmth flooding through you, making your fingers clamp together and stare out at the place as he says, this is it.
It’s nice, well-kept—charming, from what you can already tell. Eyes spot chalk drawings on the patio, lit up by the outside lights and a plastic red car close to where he's parked.
“Luca has some good parking,” you smile, pointing to it next to you both. “You learn from him, or?”
Smirking, he undoes his belt. “Maybe, I taught him how to park. I’m very good with heavy transportation.”
You don’t miss the way he emphasises the sentence. Your 'oh' is swallowed by the sound of him opening the door and telling you to wait.
Watching as he moves around the vehicle, his eyes holding yours. Earlier, you'd been thankful that the rain had taken a pause; now you wished it hadn't stopped its lashings that glued clothing to skin, thighs pressing together on the seat before the door beside you opens.
“What a gentleman.”
“Just wanted another chance to chance to check you out, really.”
Swatting him, he takes your hand, his laugh blending with yours as he leads you up to his front door.
If he feels nervous, he doesn’t show it. Finding his keys and slides one into the lock without missing. Opening the door without as much as an awkward shove of the door.
If anything, it’s effortless. It not even squeaking or catching as he pushes it open.
“It’s not a lot…” he begins.
But he couldn’t be more wrong.
It’s cosy and warm. Exuding an unmistakable homeliness that immediately comforts you. Dark woods, off-whites, and splashes of orange, caramel, and greens intertwine harmoniously, creating a space that feels both freshly decorated and deeply loved. A balance you assume exists because of him being the one to bring it all together, knowing from the videos you've seen how talented he is.
As you glance around, you begin to see the traces of the Frankie you’ve been getting to know. Photographs of him at the beach, with his son, with friends and more with Luca at varying ages.
Then, there are the plants. An assorted mix of them, some big that you remember from photos, some greener than others—some tall and in plants with animal faces like raccoons and beavers, others in decorative pots placed on shelves.
As you step in further, you spot furniture you recognise from videos—even noting the stacked pile of books from a photo he’d shared recently and a record player on a side table.
“C’mon, let me show you around.”
He leads you, hand in yours, showing you his well-equipped kitchen, and dining space. Occasionally, he points things out, like the markings on a wall he’s using to measure how tall Luca gets and the scuff marks from dragging the dining table in after varnishing it. Before finally, the two of you are outside the half-open door to his bedroom.
Frankie giving you a wink, bodies almost flush.
“That where the magic happens?”
“Not usually…”
"Maybe that's cause people haven't been saying the right magic words." Shrugging, you lick your lower lip, staring at the beading on the door. "I should tell you, I've heard I'm quite good at magic words..."
You let it linger, sit. Before you turn on your heel, fingers brushing over a table as you head back in the direction of his living room.
He follows, a step or two behind, letting you and your eyes capture all the personal touches before you feel fingers on your wrist, tugging you back, body flush to his.
Wrapping an arm around your waist, you find your throat dry—eyes flicking to his mouth.
“Go take a seat, I’ll bring us a drink.”
It’s soft, the nod you do as he slips his hand from your waist. You move, almost on auto-pilot, to sit down on his sofa, running your fingers over a cushion—one stitched with greens, golds and oranges.
When he reappears, you look up at him, noticing the hint of nerves in his gaze as you plaster on a reassuring smile as he places them down on the coffee table.
Slowly, you reach out, squeezing his hand, "Your home is lovely, Frankie."
He chuckles, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks as he joins sitting down. "Yeah?"
Nodding, you press your knee against his. “So.”
“So.”
With a smirk, you draw a measured breath. “I believe... I want to kiss you now.”
Swallowing, his gaze flickers to your lips, lingering, before snapping back up to your eyes. Warmth spreads over your cheeks, neck and ears. “I believe you should, Rainy.”
A response there, nestled between teeth and tongue, is muffled as his lips meet yours—for the first time in several days.
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an: as a warning, the next chapter will include smut. if you wish to skip the smut, you can miss the chapter as there will be no other scenes. the following chapter will pick up the next morning.
NEXT CHAPTER ->
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Note
Um, if you’re taking Twilight requests, what about Edward lying about being a virgin and having never loved anyone before Bella? A past vampire lover shows up out of the blue and is upset that Edward has moved on? Maybe they separated because she didn’t want to do the vegetarian diet? But then she changed her mind because she was lonely and missed Edward. So she shows up asking the Cullens to let her join and teach her the diet in the hopes she and Edward can get back together. Carlisle can’t turn her away (maybe he turned her after Edward) and so she stays but it’s awkward for everyone. So you have this love triangle with the ex, Edward, and Bella. But Bella also still has her thing with Jacob lol. So it’s kind of a love square. And Bella feels insecure about this new woman showing up and it puts a strain on the relationship with Edward and the Cullens.
I just find it hard to believe Edward didn’t have an interest in anyone at all in 80+ years after being turned. It would really suck being the only single in a house of couples.
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Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Vampire!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x Bella Swan
Warnings: love square, mentions of blood (human and animal), hurt feelings, cheating?, longing, both bella and edward are sexually frustrated lol, past relationships mentioned, might be a two parter 🤷🏽‍♀️
Words: 2761
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He can't help but think of her when the smell of jasmine filled the air. Bringing him back to a moment in time that he saved specifically to reminisce on when Edward found himself alone. He could practically feel the gentle breeze tousle his bronze hair. Her laugh ringing in his ears as clear as church bells. The only thing that ruined the memory was recalling the smear of red on her smiling face. Red of human blood.
Pulling himself out of his revery, Edward realizes that he'd been sitting at the piano for a possible hour, staring off as he dissociated. He hadn't thought of her in a while.
Must have to do with Bella's new perfume. It reminds him of-
The pinging of his phone has him sharply inhaling, abruptly remembering the physical world he's almost rudely thrown out of his own mind.
Bella's name shows up on his screen. That's right, he's supposed to be picking her up for a date in five minutes.
Edward scratches his head, pondering how long he'd exactly been there.
Quickly dashing to his keys, Edward is out the door in seconds. Dwelling in the past served him no purpose. His life was finally starting to move forward.
Well, there were a few halts along the way. Mainly one that went by the name of Jacob Black. A massive thorn in his side.
Damn it all that Bella even reciprocated the mongrel's feelings, despite her protesting. No doubt Bella loved Edward, that still didn't mean she didn't love Jacob too.
Perhaps that was why he was thinking so much about her as of late.
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The lights in your hotel room are all turned off. Didn't matter if they were on. Your vision was clear either way as they watched the subtle movement of shadows cast by what little light streamed in through the blinds.
Your dinner lay still on the bed next to you. Nutrients drained from it. Usually you tried not to make a mess when you ate. If you had enough time in the day (also if your prey was easy on the eyes) you'd work on a way not to kill them. Only take a bit of their blood then dash off while they slept. Nothing too gruesome, though they probably question the healing slit on their wrist when they awoke the next morning.
Tonight, unfortunately, took a different tone. An atypical type of desperation filled you to the brim, screaming at you to consume every part of the man who you had your teeth sunk in. You wanted to rip him to shreds and actually eat the meat that clung to his bones. It terrified even you.
You sigh and finally withdrew yourself to the bathroom. There was work to be done. The blood on your face dried a long time ago.
What were you even doing with your immortal life?
Day in, day out, everything felt the same. Especially the gaping loneliness you'd been feeling.
In your beginning days of immortality, you'd quite enjoyed it. You discovered all sorts of new things you could do with your powerful new body. And you liked discovering them with Edward.
Back then it was just the four of you for the longest time: you, Edward, Carlisle and shortly after Esme. Then you and Edward went off together on your own for a couple of years.
You wished you and Edward had never strayed from Carlisle. At the end of it, you realized that you didn't want to go back. You wanted to feast on human blood and not shy away your power.
Young and dumb, that's what you thought of your past self now. Decades later and you were now seeing the repercussions of your actions come to light.
You missed having a mate to travel the world with. Someone to turn to late at night to keep you company. You miss Edward's gentle caresses that coaxed your attention his way.
The blood of humans wasn't worth it anymore.
Losing track of how many years it had been since you checked your private PO box, you honestly weren't anticipating anything. The only one who knew about it was Carlisle. He'd begged for some form of contact information before you split from his coven. Fatherly responsibility was the root of it. His second vampiric creation.
A part of you is delighted to find two slim envelopes collecting dust. The first one was dated over a decade ago. They'd been in Alaska apparently and met other vegetarian vampires. Most recent one only several weeks old. In this one he gave you an exact address in Washington.
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You stare at Carlisle's hand writing. Getting choked up, you put the letters in your bag. It was quite the journey you had ahead of you to get to Forks.
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In the blink of an eye, Edward leaps away from Bella at the feel of her fingers digging into his shirt in an attempt to deepen the kiss. They'd been playing this push and pull game for some time now.
"Bella-" He sighs in exasperation and runs a hand through his tousled hair.
Bella's brows furrow in return, a pout rising on her lips as she sits back on her bed again but at a distance. She'd heard him repeat himself so many times about being careful with her. How she's so fragile compared to him. Like she didn't already know of her delicate mortal body. Just a few months ago James nearly broke every bone in her body.
"I know!" She hadn't meant to sharply snap at him. Edward was just trying to protect her like he always did. A steady exhale flares through her nose as she rests her head against the back board of her bed. He constantly left her craving more of his touch.
Like any man, Edward desired physical contact. With Bella that desire was too much. Too dangerous. The forbidden fruit that Edward must resist by any and all costs.
The first and last girl he'd taken to bed was. . .
What he could never tell Bella was that he wasn't a virgin like he had told her. After all, he had been alive for decades. Being a virgin for that long was implausible.
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He traced where the golden rays of the sun hit your skin. In the presence of light, your skin reflects like a million sparkling stars. You're trying to fix the headboard of your bed that both of you broke during your love making.
"We can just buy a new one." Edward chuckles, his fingers run up your bare spine causing you to shiver. The headboard wasn't the only thing both of you accidentally demolished. Bedsheets were torn to shreds, feathers from the pillows dusted your hair, even the mattress creaked ominously.
Your brows are creased in a small pout. "I hope this doesn't happen every time we have sex."
At your words, Edward felt something in his stomach unfurl and warm. Happy to hear that this wouldn't be the last time he got to touch you.
When you catch him staring, your frown turns up into a coy smile. "What're you looking at?"
"You."
"Obviously. But why?" You ask that like you weren't still naked as the day you were born.
He coaxes you back into his arms, little resistance from your part as you rest your head against his chest. "Because you're painfully beautiful."
Edward wasn't just buttering you up. When he said that, there was undeniable warmth and adoration that dripped from his tone. He was smitten. You'd never had any man regard you in such a way that made you feel vulnerable. You trusted Edward with your most vulnerable self.
He smirks when he reads your thoughts. Gently, he tilts your head back so that he can capture your lips.
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After you, Edward thought he'd never fall in love again. Not as intensely as he had with you.
Bella came extremely close. But because she was human, Edward was limited in how he can show his affection. Even holding her hand, Edward had to reign in his supernatural strength. The slightest amount of his real strength could break her entire hand.
Without reading her thoughts, he could feel her annoyance and frustration. She desperately wanted to take things to the next level like any healthy teenager would. Bella desired to experience the physical aspects of their relationship. Were he human or even like Jacob. . . Edward would be more than happy to let himself fall into his temptations.
That just wasn't so.
The drive back home was a silent one as Bella stared out the window. As of late her attempts to get intimate in him were becoming more and more frequent. Along with her desire for Edward to change her into a vampire. He didn't want to change her just because it would make their relationship easier. That was still a last case scenario that he kept in the back of his mind. She didn't view her humanity the way Edward and his family did. It wasn't something to carelessly throw away. None of them had a choice in the matter. All were on the brink of death when Carlisle turned them. They would not have willingly given up their mortality.
Edward tried multiple times to convey this to Bella. It would go in one ear and out the other. Normally Edward didn't mind stubborn women. You were as stubborn as a bull during arguments. The two of you literally butting heads to get your point across. Those arguments never mattered in the end. There'd only been one argument that truly tore the two of you apart. Your very last argument.
Getting within a five mile radius of the Cullen house, Edward nearly slams the brakes of the car when he listens to the minds of those in the house. One whom he couldn't quite believe he was hearing.
Bella felt the swerving of the car. She glances at Edward with concern. "A-Are you okay?"
His grip tightened on the wheel, the flimsy material bends under his fingers.
He was hearing YOUR thoughts.
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Esme refused to let you out of her hug.
Helplessly, you glance around the room; your gaze landing on a smiling Carlisle.
"Welcome home." His smile is heard in his words.
Finally Esme pulls back, her hands flying to your face to turn it this way and that. "Have you been eating enough? Oh look at your clothes. Alice, can you get her some new clothes?" You notice how her face flinches with nervousness when her gold eyes meet your red ones.
"I'm fine, Esme." You giggle and lower her hands away from your face to give them a reassuring squeeze.
"Clearly. Look at her eyes. She's been feeding on human blood." Rosalie needlessly points out. Yeah, you didn't really miss her. You had no idea what her mate saw in her besides the pretty face. Emmett was a bear of a man with the personality of a stuffed animal. You hadn't yet met Alice, Jasper or Emmett. When you left it was only Carlisle, Edward, Esme, Rosalie and you.
"I know that'll have to change if I want to live here again." You murmur defensively. "I'm ready now. Human blood isn't worth being alone anymore."
Esme's smile beams and once again she smothers you in a bear hug.
"Esme, give her some space. We don't want to scare her off." Carlisle pats his wife on her shoulder. Even Carlisle couldn't stop smiling. He'd sent that letter so long ago that he doubted you'd even read it.
"By the way. . . Where's Edward?" You curiously ask. Everyone appeared to be home except the one face you really wanted to see.
Instantly the room goes deadly silent.
"What?"
Carlisle grimaces and glances at his wife who was equally unsure of how to tell you. "There's something you need to know."
Your eyebrow quirks up. "Oh?"
He couldn't continue. The door swings open. No one had heard the sound of Edward's car entering the driveway or heard his hurried steps up the porch.
When the two of you lock eyes, the rigidness of his frame slackens and his honey eyes glisten with that same fondness he'd always had for you. He breathes out your name like it's a sacred phrase. You were even more beautiful to him standing there than the day he'd lost you.
You feel it to. That instant pull of your heart as it attempts to escape from your chest to jump at Edward. Your entire body vibrates with the intense urge to be close to him.
You would have run to him. Had it not been for the human girl at his side.
The rose tint your world had taken on faded in that moment to reveal the drabness of this brunette that stuck to his side. Her own brown eyes wavering in your presence.
Now highly conscious of Bella's existence next to him, Edward hastily makes introductions. "Um, Bella, this is (y/n). (y/n), this is. . . Bella."
Alice groans. "Way to go Ed."
"What's going on?" Timidly asked Bella who was still staring at you. She didn't like the way you and Edward had stared at one another like star-crossed lovers come together again. Bella hated how he'd said your name with such veneration. For so long Bella possessed Edward's sole attention. She was loathe to relinquish any of it.
Jasper and Emmett averted their eyes from the train wreck that was occurring.
Being blunt as usual, Rosalie steps in. "They used to date too."
Bella's eyes widen and with an expression of betrayal flicks to Edward. "Date?"
"Well, probably more than simple dating from the sounds that would come out of their room." Rosalie's tone was that of boredom. This was old news to her but new news to Bella. News that shattered her perception of everything around her.
"Rosalie!" Edward snaps at her.
She rolls her eyes. "Everyone was taking way too damn long in saying anything. What? Doesn't Bella deserve to know?" Rosalie looks at you while pointing a finger between Edward and Bella. "They're dating now."
"Yeah, I kinda got that." You glare at the blonde who was unaffected by the daggers thrown at her. Really, you were angry with the human girl. A human with the man you'd called your mate for so long. Jealousy licks the walls of your stomach like white hot flames.
Edward stands in front of Bella. "You're the one who left me." He whispers but everyone can hear it.
Bristling, you turn your back on the two and back to your adoptive father. "Where did you say my room was?"
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"You told me you never had sex before!!" Bella can't help the shaky quality of her voice. Anger and hurt overwhelmed her. Tears bubble along her lower lashes. She keeps as far away from Edward as possible. "What else haven't you told me? O-Or lied to me about?"
"Bella-"
"And you still love her! No! Don't try to deny it. I heard you say her name when you first saw her. Everyone did Edward!" Maybe that was the worst part of it. That Edward still held a flame for you. She had so many questions. How long was it after their separation did Edward meet Bella? Why weren't they still together? Clearly you were staying if you'd asked Carlisle where your room was. For how long?
Did you intend to take Edward from her? Would you hurt her?
"I shouldn't have lied to you. I'm sorry, Bella." And he was. Edward never thought you'd come back to him after all those years apart. Boy he was royally fucked though.
Because he was still in love with you. That much was evident. The knowledge of you being just down the hall was driving him crazy. Something deep inside of him was begging to be with you.
Meanwhile on your end of the hallway, you're doing the best you can to not break everything in your room. He was right. Damnit he was right. You were the one to leave. Unable to accommodate to the vegetarian lifestyle. You gave up Edward for the high that human blood offered you. It would be unfair to expect Edward to pine for you. You should've taken into thought that maybe he'd moved on.
The backs of your eyes burned with the urge to cry. Unable to produce tears, all you can do is wrap yourself in blankets and let the dark swallow you whole.
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mcuamerica · 5 months
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The Shadowsinger: One
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Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. loss of family, gore, canon level mention of violence, Tamlin, heavy spoilers for ACOTAR series. If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Pairings: (Eventual) Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: After you were claimed as Amarantha's Shadowsinger, you meet the High Lord of the Night Court.
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!
Series Masterlist
Prologue
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Just 6 months before everyone was trapped Under the Mountain is when she raided your small northern Illyria village. And it was all because of that male you slept with. When you thought he was sleeping and allowed your shadows to come out, he saw. And he knew. He ran back and told his camp Lord, who told Amarantha the second he could. The Lord had sworn allegiance to her before a few others did as well.
Every single villager was taken to one of the camps she had. Sirona, Igna, and Oran included. Every single one of them but you. At first, she threatened you with their lives, and you begged her to spare them. You begged her harder when she threatened to rip off your wings. So, she made you a bargain. One she didn’t make with anyone else.
So long as you would be her personal Shadowsinger, her spy, and told her nothing but what you thought to be the truth, your friends and your wings would remain intact. You foolishly agreed. Not aware of the loopholes that she would find ways around in the coming years.
You were there when she trapped everyone Under the Mountain. You were responsible for her having bargaining power over certain High Lords. How she was able to put a leash on everyone’s powers. You were trapped with everyone else. But you were her spy, and she still needed information from the outside. So she allowed you out, but only when she deemed it necessary.
And you met Rhysand. The High Lord of the Night Court. The High Lord of your home. Or what used to be. And not just a High Lord, but a Carynthian, the highest ranking form of an Illyrian that you knew. And he was Amarantha’s whore.
Rhysand had a familiar feeling the moment he laid eyes on you. Not only because you reminded him of his Shadowsinger brother, but something deeper. Something he hadn’t been able to place for the 50 years Under the Mountain.
When you first told him of your bargain with Amarantha, he was wary to tell you anything. He definitely wasn’t going to tell you about Velaris. Not when you had a bargain to tell her the truth about anything you learned. And lying to her would only get you killed.
Then he learned why you’d done it. How you bargained to keep your friends, your family (albeit not blood related), safe. To keep your wings unharmed. At least unharmed by her. So he decided he would do everything he could to keep his secrets from you. Not because he didn’t want you to know, but because he didn’t want you hurt. Or your family hurt.
You had learned to lean on each other during those 50 years. Amarantha would often send you out together. Even though she trusted you and Rhysand to bring her valuable information alone, she also knew that you couldn’t lie about the information that he told her. 
But Rhys had learned to keep you in the dark, away from conversations, when he knew you didn’t want her to know what was going on. You couldn’t lie about something if you didn’t hear it. If your shadows didn’t tell you.
And then Feyre came. The 19 year old girl, human, professing her love for Tamlin. One of the first things that your shadows whispered to you about her was that she indeed did love him. Something Amarantha forced out of you once they took Feyre to her cell. After they beat her, of course.
You remembered when Rhys went out for Calanmai, even if he didn’t tell you what happened. You remember him coming back from Tamlin’s manor and telling you about Clare. You were on the mission to go retrieve her, just to conceal Amarantha’s soldiers enough so they could do their worst. Thankfully you weren’t asked to question Clare… Thankfully for Prythian, not Clare. You didn’t know you were retrieving the wrong woman.
What Amarantha did to Clare, how she displayed her decaying body in the throne room, you could barely watch. You knew Rhys had taken her mind. He wouldn’t let innocents suffer. It didn’t help, either way. Knowing that Amarantha would use it against you if you looked away or left the room. Especially because she may need use of your shadows to scare the poor girl even more.
You watched as Feyre defeated the Wyrm, as she miraculously survived the second task. You knew she couldn’t read. Your shadows told you the second the spikes started descending on her and Lucien. You thought they were going to die. But somehow, after hovering over the second lever for so long, she chose the third. It was like someone told her to do it.
Rhys didn’t mention he was sending Nuala and Cerridwen down to retrieve Feyre on those nights after their own bargain. Or what their bargain even entailed. He didn’t want you knowing the secrets. Not when it would ruin the plan he had in place.
So you stood by as Feyre held the fate of Prythian in her hands, with the dagger as she plunged it into Tamlin’s stone solid heart.
It wasn’t easy, watching Amarantha as she killed Feyre for it. As Rhys roared for her, fought for her. All while Tamlin did nothing but beg. Granted, he was injured, but he didn’t do anything. Didn’t even fight as Feyre’s neck snapped. You even tried to send your shadows towards Amarantha to blind her for Rhys, but she shot out a string of magic and knocked you on the floor and held you there. 
But Feyre solved the riddle. She freed you all. And you took a deep breath as you felt more magic swell in you than you noticed before. Maybe it was from it being gone for 50 years. Or restrained, at least.
And Tamlin killed her. He did what every person Under the Mountain was wishing, any sane person at least. Amarantha was dead and you were free. Free to keep secrets from whomever you wanted. Free to see your family without fear that you would endanger them.
That final night roaming about in the upper floors of the Mountain changed your life even more. When you approached Rhys to say goodbye. To go to the camp your family was being held at and take them back to the village. If anything was left. It was then that he gave you an offer that was hard to refuse.
“Come with me,” he whispered. “To Velaris.” He said and you tilted your head, not understanding what that was. Without even reading your mind, he continued. “It’s my Court that isn’t known to anyone. I’ve kept it hidden from everyone. From her… but I want you there. I want you to meet my family. I want my family to meet the female who helped me through these years…” he said. “I want you to meet another Shadowsinger.” He said.
You stood there, blinking for a few moments. “Rhys…” you muttered. “I have my family-“
“They can come. I’ll get you set up in a townhouse with them. And if you’d like, we could see about you working as part of my Court.” He said. “Think about it. I’ll ask your decision by tonight. Once you’re with your family.”
You took a deep, shaky breath. You bounded over to him and wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done here.” You whispered. The only response from him was a small hum followed by a tight squeeze.
You stepped back and thanked him again before disappearing with your shadows to the camp your family was in. Where you would finally get to see Sirona, Igna, and Oran. Even if they weren’t blood, they had taken care of you and seen you mature all those years. You may have failed them the day Amarantha came, but you hoped they knew that what you did, you did for them.
Only, you made it too late. The camp had been burned down hours ago. There had been a spell on it, tied with Amarantha’s blood. If she was to die, all of the buildings were to burn with anyone inside. Her foot soldiers or not. And only this camp. As if that last final blow would finally break you. It almost did.
Your knees buckled as you made it to your family’s building, shadows wrapping around you as you fell to the ground. The building was still simmering with fire. But you could smell it. Burnt flesh, blood, and soot mixed together. It caused you to vomit right in front of the small room Igna and Oran shared together. As you staggered inside, you knew they were gone. You were alone again. The only people who loved you were gone.
But you still had Rhys. So when he went into your mind, gently scraping a talon on the walls he taught you to build up, you said yes. In despair. He knew something was wrong. So he winnowed to the camp. He spotted you outside your family’s building, holding onto a small book as you trembled. And he held you as you sobbed. Just as he had sobbed when he reached his family in Velaris. Only you weren’t as lucky as him. Your family was dead, and his was healthy and happy to see him.
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A/N: A reminder, this is a story about the reader more than it is a love story. It's quite a slow burn for a while. I started it immediately after I finished reading the ACOTAR series. I'm reading TOG now, no spoilers please.
Chapter 2 will be posted April 23rd.
Taglist: @cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickishadowsinger139
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astroboots · 1 year
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EYEM #13
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader
Summary: You meet another version of the man you love and finally find out why the Universe is trying to kill you.
Word count: 5,800
Warning: violence, pain hurt and angst. Be prepared.
Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist
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Everything hurts. You don’t know where you are, you’re disorientated and queasy.
The first sight that greets you is the glow of scarlet eyes so piercing they cut through the blurriness of your vision.
They're familiar, but also different. Even though they’re identical to his, you know this is not your Miguel.
It takes you a while to make sense of your surroundings. Long moments for the nausea to dissipate enough that you can take in the dark moody blues of the space and recognize that you’re in the same sparse room as before.
Takes a few longer moments still before you register that your wrists and arms are restrained by strange threads made of an unknown material that glow up in an alarming neon red and you’re strung up and suspended in an intricate web from the ceiling.
You try to pull against your restraints, but it’s useless, your body won’t listen to you. You can’t even get your little finger to budge. You can’t fucking move.
“You’re alright,” The man who looks exactly like your Miguel says. “Try not to move. It’ll be better that way.”
You don’t listen to him, because why the hell would you. This is not your Miguel. You try again and pain sears through your muscles.
Shit! He bit you and now you’re paralyzed.
Panic races through your spine. You need to get out of this situation, now. Need to get out. Need to get to Miguel. Even if you can’t move, there has to be a solution somehow.
Lyla is meant to protect you right? She was built for that purpose. If you summon her then surely, “Ly–”
You can't get the second syllable out. Sharp pain stings inside your throat as you try to speak.
“Lyla’s not going to attack me," he says as if he can read your mind and knows what you were planning to do. "It’s a safety feature built in to make sure she doesn’t go rogue. The only time that gets overridden is if I’m a threat to your life."
Irritation crawls under your skin.
Fuck’s sake Lyla. Does this not count as a threat? Do fangs poised against your throat and taking a chomp out of you not qualify? The man bit and paralyzed you!
Despite two failed attempts, you try to move again, straining against the impossible heaviness of your numb limbs. Another jolt of pain shoots through your limbs as you do.
Miguel flinches at the sight of you as if there was an invisible thread connecting your body to his and he was able to feel every ounce of your pain.
His hand reaches up to cup your cheek to stop you.
“Don’t move,” he tells you again. “My toxins have paralyzed you and it will hurt you if you try to move. Stay still, nena. Please. You’re safe.”
If this was your Miguel, he would have been curt and snappy with you for being so stupid to move when it hurts. But this Miguel says it like a plea. Soft and gentle all at once.
His other hand comes to your collarbone, thumb gently wiping away the dried blood that’s pooled there. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as he stares at the dark stain of red on his fingers.
“This is the last time you’ll be hurt. You’re not going to die this time. I know how to fix this so you won’t die ever again."
Fix...it? What does he mean? Like make the universe stop trying to kill you for good?
You blink up at the man, unsure of what to make of his words. You don't trust this version of Miguel any further than you can throw him. The man knocked you out and tied you up...
But if he can fix it, even if the chance is small and far-fetched, what would be the harm in listening?
Your tongue is heavy and dry in your mouth and it feels like you’ve swallowed fistfuls of sand when you try to speak again. “Ho-how?”
“I just have to eliminate the root cause of why the Universe keeps trying to kill you.”
You prepare yourself for the pain that’s going to come again to ask him what he means. But luckily you don’t have to, this Miguel spares you of that.
“You’ve encountered another me in your dimension, right?” he asks.
You don’t answer him. But it doesn't seem to matter, because he already seems to have decided on the answer as he continues.
“It’s his fault,” he says with anger, his red eyes burn with an unnatural glow that sets your teeth on edge. “It’s his fault that this keeps happening to you. He’s the reason the universe keeps trying to kill you.”
No. No that’s not– You don’t know what he’s getting at. Don’t know what has happened to this version of Miguel that makes him believe this.
But you do know one thing. You don't need to listen to the rest of it to know. He is wrong.
Your Miguel has saved you. Protected you again and again. Put himself in harm’s way and nearly died to keep you safe. He would never hurt you.
“No,” you ignore the spasm of pain across your diaphragm as you speak. “He s-saved me.”
His mouth furls into a feral snarl, flashing the corner of his fangs. “You wouldn’t need to be saved if it wasn’t for him.”
“That’s not–”
“He’s an anomaly! Every Miguel O’Hara is!”
You blink up at him at loss for words. You don’t understand what he’s trying to tell you.
In front of you, this Miguel visibly grits his teeth, grinding down on his jaw, as he continues to speak in that low tone that simmers with fury.
“Humans are not meant to travel between dimensions. When I invented inter-dimensional travel, I violated that natural order without knowing it. Everyone I come across, everyone I saved, I’ve doomed, because that event was never supposed to take place.”
“You– you don’t know–”
He cuts you off before you can finish, “I’ve seen it!” he shouts. His hands curl into agitated fists at his sides. “After I lost you, I–I...”
He looks back at you and the words seem to die on his tongue.
As you hold his gaze you begin to see what you missed before. You were too focused on this Miguel’s anger to notice the grief pouring out of every inch of him.
“I lost myself,” he says, quieter now. “Lyla showed me a version of us in another dimension and it was the only thing that kept me going. We had a life together there. A daughter. You were happy there... Then that version of me died.”
He pauses again, lost in some memory that you are not a part of. Shame sinks into the hollowness of his sunken eyes and he looks away from you again.
“... And I replaced him. I thought it was harmless, that I was just replacing a version of me and the universe wouldn’t know any better. But I was wrong. He was never supposed to be in that dimension either. That whole universe collapsed because of me and our daughter and you died with it.”
Making a broad gesture through the empty air, amber light brightens up the space.
From behind him, a myriad of holographic screens flicker into existence, and you see images of yourself repeated and illuminated in all of them. You with pink hair. Another you with piercings. A you with tattoos and shaved cuts. Hundreds of variants of you wearing pieces of clothing that you’ve never owned. All of them, a different you, living their everyday life.
“Since then I’ve observed hundreds and thousands of versions of you in every dimension,” this Miguel tells you, as he gazes longingly at the screens that float above.
“All of them get to live full and healthy long lives. Do you know what every one of those versions of you have in common?”
He turns back towards you, closing the distance between you. “We never met. The reason you keep dying is because you meet me.”
His face is so close that a lock of his curl falls on your temple. Had this been your Miguel, you’d been tingling with warmth and excitement, now all you feel is a cold shiver.
“Every time we meet is because something I did inadvertently puts you in danger, and then I save you from it, starting the chain of events.”
Your mind flashes to that first moment you fell out of the Chrysler building. The blur of blue and red that came crashing into your life in pursuit of a villain and knocked you out of a skyscraper window.
“The universe is trying to erase your existence because of me. To try to correct the balance.”
Your face feels numb. Your mind is reeling from the revelation.
The question that you’ve had since this all began has finally been answered. Why this universe seemingly has it out for you. Why it has repeatedly tried to kill you. Why your world literally was about to end after you kissed him… It all makes a tragic sense now.
It’s because of Miguel.
You don’t know how long you remain frozen, crushed under the weight of the realization, before the sound of footfall joins the room, echoing in this empty space.
You hear him before you see him. Your Miguel. He calls your name and the familiar tone of it sends warm shivers through your spine.
Searching the space, your eyes land on his familiar silhouette in the dim light.
Miguel is struggling to walk, hunched over and limping forward despite his injuries. He looks so much smaller than what you are used to. There's blood dripping down his face and ugly red gashes ripping into his protective suit where one arm is clutching to the gaping raw wound.
Parting your mouth, you desperately try to warn him and scream that he needs to run. But the noise is garbled and choked. Nothing remotely close to a word comes out of your mouth. Even if it did, it wouldn’t have helped.
Miguel is too distracted by the sight of you. Too focused on reaching you that he barely registers the sight of his other self standing beside you, and then it’s too late.
It happens so fast, your eyes aren’t able to register it. One second his cosmic Doppelgänger is beside you. The next he is gone.
He leaps into the air with a ferocity that chills your bones. His claws slashes through the air and he pounces on Miguel with the entirety of his body weight.
Miguel doesn’t stand a chance. He’s already wounded and weakened. There’s been no time to heal. He’s still heavily bleeding from his abdomen and the bone-deep wounds where the damage meant for you had torn through him instead.
His body lands on the floor with a painful heavy thud. Even from this distance, you can hear the air rush out of his lungs with a pained and choked wheeze.
“Do you know what you have done?” His voice drips with venom as he fists his hand into Miguel’s hair, yanking his head upwards, level with his. “Why couldn’t you just have left her alone?”
Miguel snarls with an ugly grimace as he tries to wrangle himself free to no avail, pinned as he is on the ground. He meets the man’s stare without cowering even as he is unable to stand upright, wounded and bleeding out.
“The fuck are you on about?” Miguel spits out. He surges forward, ramming his forehead into the other man.
The blow of it sends the Doppelgänger reeling back. But it doesn’t last. He snarls in anger before he lunges forward, grabbing for Miguel’s head to slam it back down into the ground.
All you can do is helplessly watch the scene unfold before you.
“You still don’t get it do you?” he growls, raising his arm in the air to deliver another forceful blow.
There’s a nauseating bone-crushing sound that makes you sick to your stomach when his fist connects to Miguel’s jaw.
“You should never have gone to her world. You didn’t belong!”
He clasps around Miguel’s throat in a painfully hard hold, pinning him there against the ground.
Miguel’s tanned skin bleeds white around the dented imprints of that talon grip, cutting off blood circulation until you’re sure he can no longer breathe.
“She died because of you!”
The words make Miguel freeze. The whole of his back stiffening.
A fisted hand hammers down on Miguel’s face and you squeeze your eyes shut before you see it connect. All you hear behind your closed eyelids is a sickening crack that you know means something is broken.
Silence follows, and you barely dare to squint your eyes open, terrified of what you will see. Even though you’re bracing yourself, you’re still not prepared at the sight that greets you.
Miguel's body is slumped and motionless on the ground. The other him towers over his defeated form. There’s an eerie calm to his movements as he gets up and steps back.
On the ground, Miguel looks so much smaller than when he's lying in bed next to you under the covers and your heart beats painfully fast in your chest, unable to intervene.
The other man raises one leg above Miguel’s still form, poised like a sledge-hammer and holds there.
His foot comes down, delivering a shattering stomp that reverberates through the space. You swear you can feel the suspended webs holding you, shake and tremble against your skin from the after shock.
The air thins in your lungs. Hot, wet tears spill down your cheeks. For a long and dreadful second, you’re not sure if Miguel is still alive.
Then you hear a tiny, pained whimper, from the ground.
You don’t know what you feel anymore. Fear. Sadness. Anger. Relief. Everything inside you is drawn in a tight knot and aches at the pitiful sound of how much pain Miguel must be in. But there’s also the tiniest of hope, because as doomed as this all may seem, at the very least he’s still alive.
That's all you care about right now.
In front of you, his other self cocks his head to the side. He narrows his eyes as he looks down at the defenseless body on the ground with a disdain that you've never seen on those features before.
“You disrupted the canon when you jumped into her dimension. Do you understand?” he says with a quiet barely contained anger. “The universe keeps trying to kill her, because you, an anomaly, entered into the picture and altered the course of her life."
Something sharp protrudes from the back of his arms, as he speaks.
"But I can make it right," he says and you see the sharp long appendages extend from both sides of his upper arms.
You stare at them with a growing fear, as they grow sharp and menacing, into blades that glow ominously red.
No. Nononono.
This can't be happening. This can't be real.
You wrench against the restraints around your limbs and pain sears through every single cell of your body. But right now it doesn't matter. You have to move. Because you know what’s going to happen if you don’t.
"I can save her. If you die, she gets to live. All you need to do is stay down,” he says.
To your horror Miguel does. Miguel doesn’t move. Doesn’t resist. Doesn’t fight back. The tight tension in his muscles go slack, and his arms drop at his sides.
The most stubborn man in the universe has stopped fighting. He’s given up.
That man is going to kill Miguel. You can’t stay still and let it happen. You have to move. God, please please, you need to–
“I have to do this to keep her safe,” the Doppelgänger says, “You want that too. It’s all we ever wanted.”
Pain tears at the seams of your skin, sharp and fractured like broken shards and glass splitting through your skull until you’re sure you are going to vomit. You ignore it.
In front of you, he raises his arm above Miguel’s head until it looms over him like a reaper's scythe.
Ripping through the last of the hindrance holding you down, adrenaline and pain mix into a sickening concoction until you lose sense of your surroundings.
It's only a few feet away.
You can’t stop, even if it hurts. Can’t stop even though your vision flickers white with bright dotted spots. Can’t stop, because if you do– you’ll lose him.
You leap, throwing yourself in front of Miguel's slumped form on the floor.
Everything hurts. Pain sears through your insides, scraping every inch of our flesh. It burns and crackles in the marrow of your bones.
You spread your arms out in an attempt to make yourself bigger, trying to shield as much of your Miguel as you are physically capable of.
“Nena…” the man above stares down at you, wide-eyed and frozen.
He's stopped, the sharp blade protruding from his arm suspended inches from your face.
“Cielo! Move,” Miguel barks from under you.
“No!”
There’s no fear in this moment as you say the word. Even with the honed blade looming over your head. Even though all it’d take is one swift downward movement to end it all, you’ve never felt surer of your safety.
Because this close, you can see it now.
This other Miguel, different as he may be, is still Miguel. If there’s one thing you learnt in these last few months it's that more than anything, no matter how hard-headed and wrong he might go about it in his methods. This man will always choose your safety over everything else. Your survival. Your life.
That’s why Lyla still hasn’t overridden her safety protocol. Because your life is not in danger, not by his hands.
If he has to go through you to get to Miguel… He wouldn’t. You can tell that much.
And if your life is the only shield you have to offer the man you love, then you’d gladly lay it down under the guillotine.
“I won’t let you lay another finger on him,” you say as you stare up at the other Miguel defiantly. “Not as long as I’m alive.”
The man narrows his eyes, seething with an anger that radiates from every inch of his body as he spits out the syllables.
“He is killing you.”
His lips quiver, hands trembling as he looks down at you. You recognize that expression. It's the same one Miguel held when he was looming over you, vowing to eliminate the Avengers in order to protect you.
The same pain in his eyes, whenever he fears for your survival... because he's already lost you once.
That's what this is...
You see this for what it is now.
Despite the fact that he’s a stranger, in spite of all the differences, you see him for who he is. The anger, the blame on his own other self, on your Miguel. The haunting guilt he has towards himself.
When he says, ‘he,’ he's not just referring to the man behind you. He's talking about himself.
Kneeling upwards, you move towards this man, ignoring the burning pain that shudders through your trembling arms as you reach up to cup those all too familiar sharp cheeks. He flinches at the touch, as if he didn’t expect it.
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. You didn’t kill me,” you tell him.
His eyes widen and he turns his face the tiniest fraction into the palm of your hand, chasing after your touch.
“Maybe you and him are the reason the universe tries to kill me. But I’m still glad I was able to meet you."
At your words, you can see the determination in his eyes waver. The way something in him cracks open and falls apart at your words.
"I'm sorry," he says, and the words bleed with guilt. "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."
“It's not your fault," you tell him again. "It’s okay, Miguel, I don't blame you. Even with all the near deaths and the end of the world, meeting you is the best thing that happened to me."
He’s not your Miguel. You know that. But despite everything that preceded this moment, your heart still hurts for this man.
All you know is that you want to make him feel better. You just want to make his hurt a little bit less painful.
“If it was my choice. If it were for me to decide. I would still want us to meet. I’m going to choose that every time. And I think that’s what she would’ve done too."
A glossy wetness shines over his scarlet eyes that threatens to spill and you ache for him.
Even if the man in front of you is not your Miguel. He’s still Miguel.
You will always recognize him, not in the identical physical features of his face. Not the stubborn angle of his ridiculously sharp jaw. Nor his obscenely large build.
No. It’s in the sadness of his eyes. The longing that he holds for you whenever he looks at you. The love you can plainly see there, no matter how hard he tries to hide it from you.
You are the woman he loves above all else. In every universe.
You can see that now.
“I think that’s what I’d always choose, Miguel. There are many versions of me but I know that every me will love every you in every universe if given the chance.”
His shoulders slump, the burning anger in him dims as his chest visibly deflates in front of you. Then he stands there, staring down at you with that aching defeat etched into the corners of his weary eyes.
“If I let you go,” he starts, voice so quiet it almost sounds like a whisper. “Where would you go from here?”
You stop to consider his question.
If you leave here with Miguel, your life as you know it is never going to be the same.
The comforts of your everyday life in New York will be lost. No more Netflix, or fancy lemony cupcakes, or the barista that knows your order before you open your mouth.
You will never know what your life will look like from one day to the next. What the world itself is going to be, jumping from one foreign universe to another. That should be terrifying to you.
But somehow it isn't.
What's scary is the thought of going back to the life you had without Miguel there. The life that was so painfully mundane and ordinary that you had no moments of importance worth remembering seconds before falling to your death. The life you spent that was trapped in the machinery of habit, without a speck of color and excitement in your life.
As confusing and downright scary every day has been since you met him, you’ve never felt more alive. Never felt safer than when Miguel is by your side. You wouldn't give it up for anything.
In your mind, there’s only one choice you want to make.
“I am going to leave my dimension with him,” you say. “The world won't have to end and we’d be together.”
He shakes his head, disbelieving. Those sad eyes, still pinned on yours.
“No matter where you run to, it would start up all over again," he says, biting down on his bottom lip with worry. "The universe will eventually try to erase you because it thinks you're an anomaly. That would be the rest of your life, running from dimension to dimension.”
He throws a look behind you where Miguel is lying on the ground, the disdain and anger coming to life again, before he continues. “If he dies, if I kill him, then that connection is severed, you could go back to your normal life.”
You turn behind to look at your Miguel. He has an expression on his face that mirrors his other self. One of defeat and sadness and disbelief.
“I don’t want that. I don’t want a life he’s not a part of.” You turn back to the other him, squarely meeting his eyes. “Please.”
Other Miguel looks like his world is ending as he looks at you. For the longest moment he doesn't say anything, and you aren't sure what his answer is going to be or what he is going to do. If he's going to hold you here against your will and kill Miguel despite your pleas.
Then he drops his gaze to the floor and you can see that he’s holding back tears.
“Go,” he whispers.
He steps back from you, retreating step by step to widen the physical distance between yourself and him, and turns away with his back towards you.
You immediately scramble towards your Miguel, arms reaching for him. It’s not graceful, your limbs still hurt and your movements are clumsy. But you try to ignore it so you can loop Miguel’s arm over your shoulder and try to haul him up on his feet.
Predictably, Miguel is already starting to protest and scold you, “Cielo, you can’t–”
“Not now, Miguel,” you cut him off, and for once he listens.
His mouth presses into a firm line as he strains to stand upright, trying not to lean on you for support to get up, but failing to do so, leg buckling under his own weight.
Your hand shoots out around his waist to hold him steady, the slick blood from his wounds painting your fingers a bright red. You swallow down the worry, prioritizing getting away above all else for now.
“Let’s go,” you tell him, and he gives you a curt, almost compliant nod as the two of you move together with clumsy steps and rely on each other for support.
Behind you, the other Miguel is still standing turned away from you. You stare at his wide back as you walk away.
With each step that broadness looks smaller and smaller in the distance. The lonely and grief-struck silhouette of another version of the man that you love, that so clearly loves you, disappears out of sight as you leave him behind.
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Miguel is quiet. He won’t look you in the eye as both of you try to hobble your way to the corridor you had landed in when you first came to this dimension.
It takes you both an eternity. It's nothing short of a miracle Miguel is still alive and even though the toxin is wearing off in your system, you still feel sore. Every muscle in your body is cramping, worse than any time of the month you’ve had to endure so far in your life.
You gain an entirely new appreciation of what Wong must’ve gone through and if there is a way to send interdimensional gift baskets, you remind yourself you should get one for him as an apology.
“This should be safe enough,” Miguel tells you as you reach the secluded space.
You both slump down to the ground, catching your breath with your backs leaning against the wall behind to hold you upright.
“Are you okay?” you ask him, which is a silly question for a man that probably has at least half a dozen broken ribs, internal bleeding, and a fractured jaw from the looks of it.
Despite all those bodily injuries though, Miguel is acting unbothered.
“Yeah, give me a minute and I’ll get us out of here.”
He wastes no time as he reaches over for your wrist and fiddles with the dials on your watch,
A hologram appears above, but there’s no sighting of Lyla. He hasn’t summoned her and as far as you can see it’s all just gibberish coding that he’s inputting. You have no idea what he’s doing but if you had to take a guess, it looks like he’s manually inserting the programming of the next jump to ensure it’s the right location this time.
He’s quiet and concentrated like always, eyebrows furrowed, as he works. Then out of nowhere, without looking up from what he’s doing, he speaks.
“What do you want to do once you get out of here?”
"Sleep,” is your immediate answer and Miguel laughs quietly at that as you continue. “Recover, just... rest, for a while, I guess"
"Sounds nice.” He shuts down the illuminated screen, presumably already done.
Then he’s quiet for a long moment, just sitting there next to you.
“...and after that?” he asks, breaking the silence.
“I guess since I’m going to be traveling different dimensions now for the rest of my life, I’d want to go to all the cool places? Like one where there’s talking raccoons. Or a dimension where we all have sausages for fingers, or one where all life forms are rock based.”
He pays close attention to you, face resting in the palm of his hand, as you tell him of these made up otherworldly dimensions.
“If we happen to jump into another dimension that’s similar to my old one I wouldn’t turn down Beyoncé tickets, provided Lyla could get them or we could just have her hack into restaurant booking systems and get us into all the exclusive places.”
There’s a small smile on his face as you speak, and your chest feels warm at the sight of it. Somehow after the day you have had, barely escaping the end of the world, going through an assassination attempt by the Avengers, being ambushed by another version of Miguel, you both made it through.
That tiny smile of his feels like a prize at the finishing line.
You slide your fingers across the space between you, until you find his knuckles, interlacing his fingers with yours.
"Anything would be okay, really. As long as I get to be with you," you tell him.
His smile turns wistful, as he nods back at you, squeezing your fingers back between his. “Yeah, that would be nice.”
There’s a lingering moment that you share in the comfortable silence. It’s unlike him. The Miguel you know would have wanted to make the jump five minutes ago, but you figure he must be tired.
He’s been shot at, thrown off buildings and beaten half to death by his own Doppelgänger today. He’s more than earned a minute or two of rest.
His head tips up staring into the moody blue ceiling above. “I love you,” he says.
It’s sudden and a bit out of nowhere but your face tingles. Warmth fills your chest until there's so much of it you're not sure you can contain it inside you. Then he continues.
“If there was any doubt. I love you, this you. Even if I find you to be absolutely batshit insane sometimes.”
You can’t help the silly grin tugging at your lips. The dopey feeling that buzzes bright in your veins. You feel slightly lightheaded and you aren’t sure if it’s a side effect of the toxins or just his words.
“Miguel, I lov–” you start, but he cuts you off.
“I know,” he says, turning his gaze to you, as he squeezes your hand gently in his. “You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just stay here for a while. Just like this.”
He doesn’t say anything after that.
The two of you stay like that in the moody darkness, his thumb smoothing over the front of your hand in soothing motions, as he looks down at you like he doesn’t want to take his eyes off of you. It’s a while longer still, before finally Miguel seems ready. He takes your hand that he’s holding and brings it close.
“Lyla,” he summons. “Take us to the next location.”
At the command, there's a bright burst of strobed colored lights surrounding you. It’s blinding your vision as it throws you into motion even as you’re sitting still.
Then before you know it they fade into a bright sterile whiteness. You wait for your surroundings to reform. To see a skyline and buildings and city lights.
But there’s nothing.
“Wait, where are we?” you ask.
Everything is blank and white and endless here. Empty space as far as the eye can see. Dread seizes you. You’re in the void again.
Why are you here?
How… Is the watch broken? Did the two of you fail? But it worked before. You shouldn’t be here, how–fuck, your vision starts to flatten. The ground underneath you is unsteady. Everything blurs. You can’t breathe.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Miguel says, taking your hand in his as he squeezes down. “I sent us here.”
He says it so casually, your brain doesn't quite register the meaning. What does he mean he sent you here? On purpose, why would he–
“What do you mean? I don’t understand, Miguel, why would you–”
He hushes you soothingly. One hand comes to cup the back of your head, stopping you mid-sentence. “You’re not going to stay here. We’re just doing a drop off.”
“Miguel, what–”
He leans down, forehead pressing intimately against yours, there’s a sad smile on his face as he meets your eyes. They’re soft and gentle, and your chest squeezes painfully tight just looking at him.
“I already told you, didn't I?” he tells you, both hands coming to cup your cheeks. “I’m not going to let you die.”
Without missing a beat, he’s already moving on before you even have a chance to retort.
“Lyla,” he calls, and you hear the ping from your wrist. Can feel the slight vibration as the hologram takes form. “Run the updated protocol."
There’s a bright glow that forms all around you. Bright light crackles at the edges of your vision and there’s a delayed reaction in your brain as you try to process everything that’s happening around you.
He lets you go, taking a step back. “I love you, Cielito. I will always love you.”
Shit! He wouldn’t. Why?
“Take her home for me,” he orders.
You step forward trying to grab hold of him but it’s already too late. Your fingers grasp for him, but it sinks into nothingness, Miguel is already gone and so are you.
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You find yourself inside a small studio apartment.
There’s no one besides you.
There’s a sole window sill where the view of New York City is entirely obscured by the neighboring building and its ugly brick wall. Not an inch of the skyline is visible.
You’re surrounded by clutter and second hand furniture that is all too familiar. A cheap IKEA Ingatorp dining table. Laundry still piled up on the bed. Dirty dishes stacked up in a tower over the sink.
You know this place.
You’re home.
~ Next Issue
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Dedication & Credits: To my favorite moose @thirstworldproblemss. Thank you as always for listen to my insane ramblings and machinations, even though you literally do not even go here.
To @guruan who I have been dying to share this chapter with for so long! Thank you for all the amazing art, thank you for your help looking through dialogues to make sure the Spanish used reads right. Thank you for crying about this man with me.
And last but not least big hug loves and smooches to @djarinsbeskar who gave this a second pair of eyes in the eleventh minute when I was freaking out about the copious use of Doppelganger, her advice was invaluable to me and without her I probably would've put this on ice over the weekend. Please send her all the loves! cause she is amazing and beautiful and gorgeous. Also do you know that she has her DEBUT NOVEL SENSUAL SUMMONING coming out soon? please check it out and sign up to her newsletter.
I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
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ms--lobotomy · 2 months
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First comm done, this one some headcanons for a fem!Perpetual!reader from the 3rd millenium for anon! Guilliman and Fulgrim included, SFW and NSFW. Hope you enjoy!
(Themes of enemies-to-lovers in both relationships, but nothing too violent. Some fireballs. Some shibari.)
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GUILLIMAN
SFW
There is no way that this relationship is healthy at first. Even before they begin to date, they clash often. Her strong sense of justice goes against his ideals of serving his purpose without question, but their respective statuses make it so that they are forced to rub elbows more than they would like.
Since the dating market is so small for people like them, they have to make do with each other. Guilliman comes up to her first, and she is appalled at the proposition. She accepts.
At first he’s constantly telling her how to act in public, much to her dismay. This may end up with a fireball to the head, but not one so severe it singes more than the top of his hair.
He doesn’t like when she makes eye contact with him. He knows she’s looking into his soul, and it makes him feel something resembling guilt. As the relationship goes on, the guilt is less that he’s been caught and more genuine.
One time, he takes her to the side and tells her how he loved that she makes him feel human. She is taken aback at first, but the rare show of sincerity is a welcome gift. She takes care to be more gentle towards him after he tells her.
She has millenia on him, and he is well aware of it. But just because she has more time on him doesn’t mean she’s spent that time making merry with partners. They can learn how to be good partners together. 
NSFW
Sometimes, when everything bubbles over, she and Guilliman need a bit of… stress relief. They need to find a room that can fit a Primarch. The standard 8-foot ceilings of her past are something she’s used to, but something that Guilliman can’t bear with. 
One time, she tried to take Guilliman to the warp. It was too much for him. He chides her for it playfully on occasion until she admits to him that she genuinely feels bad. This stops then.
Once they find somewhere private, their grievances with each other melt away as their faces meet. Her small hands reach his hair, and he bites her bottom lip as soft as a Primarch can. 
He was elated when he found out that she could grow in size. He could lay with her, and it wouldn’t hurt her nearly as much as if she were her normal height. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t glad she didn’t go often above eight feet tall. 
He loves getting his hair pulled, especially when he’s eating her out. Sometimes the laurel wreath slips off. He gets too into the task at hand to care, or even notice sometimes.
He goes wild for her bit of stomach. He loves to run his fingers over it, pressing kisses to it while he closes his eyes and loses himself in loving her body. Having a nice bit of fat is a beauty standard on Macragge, after all. 
FULGRIM
SFW
Slightly better than that with Guilliman, as Fulgrim is less outwardly genocidal. He is, however, still a Primarch complicit in the ways of the Imperium. And for that, he is accustomed to getting an earful.
He doesn’t take it sitting down, though. Fulgrim the Perfect is no doormat. He’ll keep up appearances in front of the socialites of the planet, but behind closed doors, he’ll express exasperation at her for ruining a perfectly good diplomatic meeting. 
Passive-aggressively leaves her clothes more “becoming” of “someone of her status.” Sometimes in her closet, but as he watches her wear the same strange article of clothing, he gets a little more brazen. The clothes all fit perfectly, even though he’s never asked for your measurements. 
One day, she sits him down and explains that it’s a piece of clothing that’s survived ~28,000 years. This fascinates him immensely, and almost immediately he asks his personal tailor(s) to make him one for himself. 
Surprisingly soft when she gets to know him. He’s more willing to change than some of his brothers, because the definition of what’s perfect is always changing, and he is more interested in that than maintaining the status quo. 
Fulgrim is also an excellent cook, and you’re the first to try each new meal he’s done. Not all of them can be winners, but more often than not, you’re left with a pleasant smile on your face. 
NSFW
One thing can be said for certain about their sex life: she has helped Fulgrim get over his need for perfection in the bedroom. Leave that knot, it doesn’t hurt. Or maybe, Your pace is fine. I promise.
He loves to tie her up, especially when she’s closer to his height. He’s already an expert knot-tyer, sometimes his partners of the past have also been into that sort of thing. She convinces him that he doesn’t have to spend ungodly amounts of time on each knot.
He won’t admit that her millenia of experience on him is intimidating. As a Primarch, he prefers to be in control, even in the bedroom. Yet, he’s gentle. He presses into her chest with utmost care, running his hands along her light as a feather.
The foreplay runs long with this man, as he loves the act of preparing his partner. But when he finally starts to fuck her, it’s slow, methodical, and heavenly. More often than not, she’ll find a hand or two held, or Fulgrim’s face pressed to her own.
Ironically, he loves when she lets go in the bedroom as well. He loves hearing all of the little noises she makes, watching her face scrunch up in pleasure as she bounces underneath him. He loves her.
Aftercare is also a must. He’s bigger than Guilliman by a few feet, so he’s more likely to accidentally hurt her. He’ll clean her off, undo each carefully done knot, and cuddle with her. It’s like his experience with his past partners has prepared him for each moment with her.
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wintaerbaer · 8 months
Text
dawning (kth)
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summary: He’s never invited into your world during these late night sessions. You always push him away or ignore him. This is new.
pairing: Taehyung x Reader
rating: sfw
genre: established relationship au, angst, bit of fluff, hurt/comfort
word count: 2.2k
warnings: heavy depictions of depression and panic attacks, a brief line where taehyung worries oc is s**cidal
a/n: another piece from my aggressively depressed era when i was trying to work some stuff out in my writing, but this one is very self-indulgent (and has a happier ending than the last one lol). and the background picture of the banner is mine! :)
MASTERLIST
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He doesn’t hear you get up.
He wakes in the middle of the night and rolls over in bed to find cooling sheets in the spot next to him. Lying flat on his back, he listens for sound but there’s nothing, just the chirpings of nighttime insects and the cars passing by on the streets below. It’s not the first time he’s woken to find you gone, but it hurts the same.
The fact that he’s not enough for you.
Taehyung swings his legs out of bed and sighs as his feet press against the hardwood floor, rubs the heel of his hand into an eye. The clock on the nightstand reads 2:53am, and you really could be anywhere. There are nights when you’ve just gotten up to curl on the window seat in the living room, but there have been other times where you’ve left the apartment altogether. Sometimes you go to your favorite twenty-four-hour diner for a cup of coffee, and on one horror-filled night, he’d even had to call the cops to help track you down when you’d decided to take a late night walk in the park.
You say you just need to clear your head sometimes, but if he’s honest with himself, he’s terrified that you’re trying to get yourself killed.
He stands, snatches a sweatshirt off of the chair in the corner, takes a breath as he slips it over his skin.
He’ll find you; you’ll be okay.
He saunters into the living room, moonlight painting everything a pasty white, and confirms what he already knew to be true: you’re not here. It looks as though you didn’t touch anything either, everything being just as the two of you had left it before going to bed – wineglasses and dirty dishes on the coffee table (he’d take care of them in the morning), television remote precariously balanced on the arm of the couch.
The only thing different is your missing shoes by the door.
He slides his feet into his own sneakers, mentally running through all the places you could possibly be: the diner, the park. Hell, you could be wandering around the city mindlessly—how would he find you then?
The thought speeds him on as he hastens down the stairs and outside. He could try calling your cell phone, though you almost definitely wouldn’t pick up. You probably have it on silent anyway. You do that a lot; you say the noise bothers you.
But at times like this, it scares the shit out of him.
He strides down the sidewalk with purpose. He’ll check the diner first, and if you’re not there, the park will be next. Last time, you were found traipsing around the pond by the south end, and it’s possible you might be there again.
These worries are for naught though as he spots you through the window of Stella’s, coffee mug cradled in your hands.
The bell tinkles as he walks in the door, and your eyes immediately snap up to lock with his, some emotion swirling there that he just can’t put a name on. He slides into the booth seat across from you, signals your usual waitress for a cup of coffee, and makes an attempt at a smile.
“You were gone.”
“Yeah,” you say, quiet. “Just needed to clear my head.”
He takes a moment to study you, assesses the pain in your posture. “Scale of one to ten?” he asks. You frown at your cup, think.
“Eight.” You fiddle with a spoon. “I woke up and it was hard to breathe.”
He sighs. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
You’re frowning at your coffee again, haven’t looked him in the eye since he walked in. “You seemed peaceful,” you say. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
He reaches across the table to take your hand; you stiffen but doesn’t pull away. “I’ve told you, you’re never a bother. If I can help, let me help.”
You slide your hand from his grip, and there’s a long silence before you whisper, “What if you can’t?”
“What happens if you don’t let me try?” he asks, and your eyes finally meet his.
You say nothing—just stare at him—the hurt that he sees everyday peering out from under your lashes.
“Please, sweetheart, just try to help me understand what’s going on in your head.”
You break eye contact again to look long and hard out the window, and he knows he’s lost you.
“I can’t,” you say.
He slumps back in his seat, once again defeated. A cup of coffee is set in front of him, along with some creamer, and he gives the waitress a feeble smile in thanks, decides to focus on this task instead.
He pours the creamer into his mug and reaches down the table to grab a few packs of sugar, carefully tips them in. He doesn’t look at you, just slips a spoon into the cup and stirs, trying his best to not get angry.
Because he does, he wants to help. And you won’t let him in. He’s so tired of waking up to find you gone or crying in the bathroom or curled up by the window with that blank look on your face. All of this hurts him too; why can’t you see that? He just wants back the girl who wasn’t afraid to take a leap and kiss him on a rainy night in April after an umpteenth study date, and he knows you want that woman back too—he can see it in the way that you look at him.
“I’m sorry.”
He looks up at the sound of your voice and is horrified to see tears streaking down your face.
“It wasn’t supposed to be this hard,” you choke out, and any frustration that he was previously feeling dissipates immediately.
He slides into your side of the booth and hesitantly wraps an arm around your shoulders. You neither lean in nor resist and so he pulls you closer, tightening his embrace until you’re muffling your sobs in his shirt.
“I’m here,” he murmurs into your hair. “I promise. I’m right here.”
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Taehyung just so happens to look up when you walk into the room, hair swinging past your shoulders and a textbook tucked under your arm. You’re pretty, beautiful actually, but you carry yourself in a way that suggests you don’t know it. Your eyes flick up to his and he reflexively looks down at his desk, embarrassed to be caught staring.
He busies himself with his phone, trying to act nonchalant, and he can feel the blush creeping into his face when you quietly take the seat next to him.
“Can I borrow a pen?” you ask after a few awkward seconds. He nods and fumbles around in his bag, still not looking at you for fear that he’s making a fool of himself—he can’t even find a damn pen. And sure enough, when he finally does locate one in the very depths of his backpack and hands it to you, your lips are twisted with barely held back laughter.
He’s thankful when the professor walks into the room and your eyes are no longer trained on him, making his heart beat faster than it ever has.
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It’s barely a week before Taehyung once again wakes to find your side of the bed empty. He scrubs a hand down his face, gives a light shake of his head to clear the fog of sleep.
The clock on the nightstand reads 4:37am.
He rolls out of bed, rubs at his bicep where the faint prickling of pins-and-needles irritates the muscle. Then comes the habitual check for any noises that might indicate that you’re still in the apartment.
Nothing.
He slips on a jacket, slides his feet into a pair of boots, and tromps out of the room, stumbling into the wall ever so slightly from the grogginess that still weighs him down. He hopes you’re at Stella’s; he could use a cup of coffee right about now.
He crosses through the living room and is halfway out the door when he hears the voice.
“Hey.”
He spins on his heel and almost topples over. You’ve got your knees pulled up to your chest on the bench seat by the window, half of you bathing in pearly moonlight, the other half veiled in shadow.
“Hi,” he blurts. “I thought…I thought you were out.”
You shake your head, the bare hints of a smile gracing your lips. “No.”
He scratches at the back of his neck, never knowing what to do in the situations where you’re actually here. On most nights he just putters around, keeping an eye out while you impassively stare at the streets outside.
But tonight, you toe the vacant spot next to you.
“Sit with me,” you murmur.
That immediately gives him pause. He’s never invited into your world during these late night sessions. You always push him away or ignore him.
This is new.
He nudges off his shoes, drops his coat on the couch, and slowly makes his way over to where you’re curled by the window. Deciding to let you set the pace, he takes a cautious seat, back straight, hands in his lap.
“This okay?” he asks.
You cant forward, hair swinging to cover your face, but he thinks you’re laughing at him just a little bit and the knot in his chest loosens ever so slightly.
You guide him back so that his spine is pressed against the wall of the tiny nook, his legs swinging up to bracket the spot where you kneel. Then you turn so that your back is resting against his chest, before pulling his arms to wrap around your waist.
“This,” you whisper. “This is better.”
He lets out a long exhale, can’t help burying his nose in the hair at your neck. “Love you.”
You hum, leaning back in his embrace, and little by little, he feels the tension leave your body. It warms him from head to toe, holding you, the city lights keeping you both company.
And after a while, still propped up against him, you fall asleep.
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His heart is in his throat, absolutely stunned into silence by the way the sleek, midnight blue dress you’re wearing hugs every curve and slope of your body. He truly doesn’t know how he’s gotten so lucky or what he could have possibly done to deserve your presence in his life.
You slide up to his side, a coy little smile flirting with your mouth as you slip your hand into his.
“You wanna get out of here?”
“Yeah, sure.”
You aimlessly walk through the streets, arm in arm, laughing at the most random things and goofing off, and when he looks at you, you just seem so…happy.
You get to the park and he feels it’s now or never, so he pulls you to a halt. You look up at him, your tongue poking through your smile, and he’s lost all of his words, doesn’t even know what he could say that would ever be enough for you. Enough for this.
So he merely gets down on his knee and pulls out the ring.
He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t have to, because you immediately gasp out a “Yes!” and join him on the ground, tightly wrapping your body around his. He clutches you to him, makes a silent promise to do everything in his power to make you happy.
To give you a reason to smile.
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He’s jolted awake by your hands on his chest, shaking him violently. Eyes snapping open, Taehyung finds your face hovering over his, clearly panicked and crying.
He immediately bolts upright. “What? What’s wrong?”
You curl against his chest, sobs racking your frame. “Can’t,” you choke out. “I…I-I can’t.”
“Can’t what?” He tugs you tight against him as you shake your head.
“I-it’s suffocating,” you mumble. He tries to loosen his hold and pull away, but you latch on with a “No!” and he hesitantly wraps his arms back around you.
“I…I woke you up,” you say, sobs beginning to subside.
“It’s okay,” he says quickly. “It’s fine.”
“You wanted to…to help.”
Oh.
Wow.
“You want me to help? Just tell me how. You want to talk about it?”
You shake your head again, vigorously. “Please. No.”
“Then how—”
“Here,” you blurt. “Just stay here.”
He gives your shoulders a squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know.” You press closer. “I know.”
He rubs his hands up and down your back as you gradually ease into him, your breaths evening out, and for the first time he feels hopeful. You may not be close to talking about it—may not be anywhere near opening up fully—but at least there’s this.
At least you let him hold you up.
The clock on the nightstand reads 6:13am.
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a/n: pls consider liking, replying, reblogging, or sending an ask! <3
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