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twisted-lemy · 2 days ago

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I’ll Take You To The Garden Of Eden

4.5k words

Gnc!Reader x Leona Kingscholar

CW: None

A/n: To all my og followers who were promised a Leona rut fic, this is for y’all~ ❤️ and since today (or yesterday, it depends on when I post this) was my birthday I decided to double down and finish this for y’all as a little present from me to you! Hope you all enjoy!! ☺️

Yuu swears if Crowley ever, EVER, makes them go out and do janitorial work at the ass-crack of dawn again they’ll force feed him his stupid hat. They mean, what could’ve possibly have needed to be cleaned so badly that Crowley had to bust into their room at 5am to do it? Nothing, that’s what.

Here they are decked out head to toe in their janitor coveralls walking the empty halls of the campus while carting a heavy-ass buggy of cleaning supplies and, lo and behold, everything is already spotless—like actually fucking gleaming in the damn sunrise. And it isn’t just the main school halls that are already clean; the classrooms, the bathrooms, the cafeteria, hall of mirrors, hell—even the locker rooms where the late-night hookups happen are already clean too! (To their surprise.)

What even was the point of being out here? Hell if Yuu knows, but what they do know is that they are going to go back to Ramshackle, get back in bed, and go the fuck back to sleep. And if anyone bugs them—and yes, that does include Grim and the ghosts, they’ll go fucking nuclear. They’ve checked almost everywhere for this supposed “mess” that Crowley woke them up to deal with and they’ve found nothing, so forgive them for being a bit hissy about wasting their precious sleeping time.

Sorry Crowley, but also not. Go kick rocks, Yuu’s going back to bed and getting their rest, like they deserve.

And so Yuu turns around and begins to make their trek back to their dorm. Well, that’s what they’d like to be doing, if not for the weird noises coming out of the school’s botanical garden.

Yuu frowns, praying to whatever gods that preside over twisted wonderland that this isn’t the mess that they’ve been tasked with cleaning up, but deep down, they already know that this is it. So reluctantly, Yuu pushes open the double doors to the garden, preparing to deal with whatever is getting in between them and a good night’s sleep as quickly and effectively as possible—

—Only to have their nostrils assaulted with the heady smell of sweat and earth that hung heavy in the air. The smell was strong, strong enough to completely throw Yuu off their game, making them stagger in place.

“What the hell?” They say incredulously, their hands covering their nose. The smell alone makes them want to say fuck it and go home, cuz obviously the smell could only have one origin; someone is fucking in the botanical garden! And Crowley called them to sort it out!

‘There is a mess that I need you to clean posthaste. Come prefect, quickly!—their ass. What the fuck, Crowley?! First you have them clean up the school, the overblots, and now this?! What the fuck?!

Y’know what? No. They are not dealing with that. They are not the fun police, chasity police or whatever police anyone wants to call them. It’s not their job to go out of their way to separate young lovers from an intimate moment of passion at ass-crack o’clock! If Crowley wants to have that “mess” cleaned up he can do it his damn self.

They throw their hands up in exasperation. Really, this bugs them something fierce. How could Crowley go and call them out to do jackshit? At least all the other times he did it there was some actual shit to be done, but this time? There isn’t anything. And that annoyed them. (Almost as much as the sleep they’re losing)

Spinning on their heels, Yuu turns around and begins to walk out the door with only two things on their mind; a bath—to wash the smell of sex off them—and the sweet, sweet embrace of unconsciousness.

But things are never easy for them. Sadly, taking the easy out would not end well for them. So, against their better judgement and common sense, they suck up their complaints and u-turn back into the botanical gardens and begin wandering around, looking for the source of the stench. Funny how fast they decided to follow through with Crowley’s dumb request, isn’t it?

It took them zero time at all to find its source—or, should they say, It took zero time at all for the source to find them.

Two heavy hands roughly grab them by the shoulders and tackle them to the floor, one hand easily restraining their arms, the other harshly pressing their cheek into the soft dirt.

“The hell you doin’ here, herbivore?” The familiar voice of one Leona Kingscholar growled out.

Yuu sputters. “I was cleaning, jackass! Croweley sent me—and lemme go!”

They jerk wildly in their assailant’s hands to no avail. The bigger man pressed all his weight down onto them to keep them immobilized, much to their dismay.

“The damn crow sent you?” He clicks his tongue. “I shoulda known—I ask him to do one thing for me and and keep quiet about it and he goes and blabs to the nearest gofer to do it for him instead.”

They frantically nod their head in agreement, hoping to curry some of the temperamental lion’s favor. “Yeah, I get it, Crowley’s an asshole and can’t keep a sect for shit, now can you get off?”

Leona sniffs. “I’m already in a foul mood, do you really want to take your chances and order me around, herbivore?”

Do they? It’s not like they haven’t fought the lion beastmen at his most fearsome before and won but do they really want to fight him again? Yuu definitely could… but honestly? They really don’t want to do that at 6 in the morning before classes.

“Maybe if you got on your knees and sucked my dick I’ll let you off with a warning this time instead of knocking your teeth in.” He says in lieu of their response, his tone snarky.

Yuu deeply inhaled, then sighed. “Sure.”

Yuu feels the grip on them soften, just a tad. “Huh?” The snark in his tone was forgotten in the face of their calm, resigned acceptance of his offer.

“You heard me, I’ll suck you off if it means you leave me to my peace before classes start.” They state, flippantly. “I at least want to get a good extra two hours of sleep before I have to deal with school and me sitting here in the dirt, in this musty garden, isn’t getting me there any faster. Do you want your dick sucked or not?”

There’s silence, followed by their arms being relaxed and the heavy hand on the back of their head being lifted. Yuu revels in the feeling of no longer having their face smushed into the dirt or their arms constricted as they crawl to their knees and stretch.

Finally allowed freedom of movement, Yuu turns their head in the direction of their assailant. Sitting just a few coin tosses away was a disheveled Leona Kingscholar. He sits in his school uniform, though the orange vest signifying his status as a Savanahclaw student was nowhere to be seen, just his partially unbuttoned white dress shirt and black slacks—however, as Yuu takes a closer look at him, they can see where it all falls apart.

His signature braids that usually sit in his hair are missing, and his white button up is sweat soaked, basically see through—which explains why his vest was missing—and his pants…

“Oh wow,” they whistle, eyeballing the way his pants strained against his impressive erection, “Looking a little worked up there, aren’t we, Kingscholar?”

The man in question looks off to the side red faced. “Shut up! You gonna suck me off or not? Or do you want that ass whopping after all?”

They raised their hands in surrender. “Sorry, I’ll stop. It’s just, it’s not every day that I get to see the ever prideful and untouchable Housewarden of Savanaclaw look so… uh, how do I say this? Desperate? Needy,” they snap their fingers, “Desperate And needy?

Leona snarls at them, his teeth bared. “I’m in rut, damn it! I can’t help it!” He bites down on his venom and sighs. “I had asked Crowley to get some sedatives so I could ride this out, but instead he called you…” His voice dipped into a sneer at the end.

“Hey, newsflash, horny, I didn’t ask to be here!” They point to themselves. “And clearly Crowley can’t be trusted to do his job—you asking him for help was your first mistake.” Yuu then sighed, closing the distance between them and pushing Leona onto his back. “But, I guess I’m here to fix whatever this is now—seeing that the crow didn’t.”

They run their hands up down his body, getting a self-indulgent feel for his impressive form, before rising back up to his chest and kneading it through his shirt. Leona’s breath hitched as they made contact.

“E-easy now, Herbivore. You don’t know what you're messing with.” He says through grit teeth.

“I’ve messed with bigger and badder than you. Stop trying to act like a tough guy. Just relax and enjoy yourself.” They say, their hands still massaging his chest. “Should be easy for you, all you gotta do is sit back and look pretty, I’ll be the one doing all the work.” Like usual—but that last part goes unsaid.

Hesitantly, Leona nods.

“Good boy. Now,” they apply more pressure. “Relax~”

The lion beastmen bites his lip in retaliation, not deigning to give even the slightest hint of a moan or groan in Yuu’s favor. Not that they mind. They like it when they struggle.

In lieu of a response, Yuu’s hands slowly trails down his body, deftly unbuttoning his dress shirt as they did and exposing his toned upper body to the early morning air.

They whistle at the sight, taking in his impressive form and marveling at how his sweat soaked body glistened in the early morning sun. “Damn, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” they lean in close and rub their face into his hairy chest, breathing in his scent—earth and the sour smell of musk. The smell sent shivers straight to their dick. “I could get used to seeing you like this.”

As they once again went to take in his scent a familiar heavy hand landed on the back of their head, startling them. “Ey, Herbivore, I thought you were working on me?” Leona says between breaths.

They remove their head from between his cleavage and look up at him. “I am, but who said that I can’t get some pleasure out of this as well?” With that, they shoved their face back into his chest, though this time they resumed kneading his chest as they sat and huffed his scent.

Leona however, despite his red face and somewhat labored breaths, sits amused and unimpressed above them. To that, Yuu takes offense. While they already knew that Leona was a tough nut to crack, to think that he was able to remain somewhat composed even in a situation like this? It pisses them off, that even with the intensity of their touches, he still manages to hold it together—but that only inspires them to try even harder. Put in more effort, so to speak.

Shifting their head, they find themself face to face with one of the bigger man’s nipples. Licking their lips, they close the distance and begin lightly kissing it—and to that, the first unmuffled moan escapes the beastmen’s mouth.

The sounds coming out of Leona’s mouth as they kissed his chest was like music to their ears. Each realized moan and sharp expletive out of the lion’s mouth was like a drug to them—it gave them the energy needed to redouble their assault with extreme vigor, all to hear him come undone above them. Now, with one of Leona’s “weaknesses” discovered, they begin an assault, using their teeth to tease the nipple while alternating between gently roaming their tongue around his areola.

Leona shivered under their breath, his body shaking with barely controlled energy as they left mark after mark all over his chest.

Finally, the man all but shouts, “Herbivore stop before I ruin in my pants—“

And they stop, their lips leaving the shivering man’s chest. Leona getting his own this early on isn’t in the cards for him, not if Yuu has anything to say about it. They back away from the beastmen and sit cross-legged, arms folded. The other stares at them in annoyed confusion.

“Th-the hell you doin’, herbivore” Leona pants, his chest heaving.

“Letting you come down from whatever this,” they make a vague gesture in Leona’s direction, “is. I can’t have you tapping out this early in the games and besides—”

As fast as they made space between the two, Yuu closes the distance and begins peppering Leona’s body with kisses and hickies, staring from his chest, down his abdomen, along his happy trail until they finally were face to face with his twitching bulge.

“—I promised to suck you off and I haven’t done that yet.” They say, a wicked grin appearing on their face as they pressed a kiss against the other man’s still clothed erection. ”You might wanna lay back, I’ve been told that my skills were a little too… much for the average guy to handle.”

Leona scoffs. “You think I’m anything like the average guy? Awful big talk from an herbivore”

They roll their eyes. He’ll end up regretting those words soon enough if they have anything to say about it. Yuu all but rips the belt from around the beastmen’s waist as they undo his belt, tear off his pants, and tug off the beastman’s (Leopard print. Really?) boxers allowing the beastman’s, admittedly quite impressive, cock to bound out and into the morning light.

“Damn, and I thought it was big before I took it out of your pants…” Yuu blanches at the sight of the monster standing proudly before them.

Leona, noticing this, smirks proudly and snarks, “What? Getting cold feet now? Herbivore?”

Their eye twitches.

Cold feet? Them? It’d be a cold day in hell before that ever happens—they mean, they’ve fought both Malleus and Grim’s overblots, god dammit. If they could do that and survive to tell the story then they can handle some dick. No matter how big, impressive… or generally intimidating the dick may be.

They shake their head and slip on a mask of indifference, easily masking their initial hesitation with a cool exterior. “Don’t get too full of yourself. I’ve sucked bigger.”

“Have you?” He questioned, a teasing lit to his voice.

No.

They haven’t.

That was a lie.

But Leona doesn’t need to know that, does he?

“Yeah, I did.” They lied, their voice dripping with a cool confidence as they gave his cock a few teasing jerks. “Jack’s a big guy, ya know? In height, muscle, and apparently, other things as well.”

Leona’s eyes twitched at that and his pupils narrowed dangerously into slits. His pride as a man somewhat attacked at the thought of being compared and found inferior to a freshman of all people.

“Why don’t you go suck his dick instead, since you wanna verbally slob on it here—” Leona yelps.

Yuu squeezed his dick, hard. “You asked and I answered truthfully.” Truthfully lying. “If anything, if I could handle him, I can definitely handle you.”

Leona scoffs and leans back, resting on his elbows. “Then do it already and stop talking. Show me these “skills” you boast so much about.”

Yeah, they’ll show him their “skills” all right. By the time they're done with him they’ll be the only thing he’ll be thinking about for the next few days. They snicker under their breath, their thoughts running wild.

Confident, they take the tip of his cock into their mouth, their tongue roaming around the head questioningly as its strong taste and heavy smell assault their senses. It was difficult, at first, to get a feel of what works and what doesn’t. Most of their usual tactics were rendered useless on a cock of Leona’s size—one that barely fit into their mouth.

But that doesn’t deter Yuu in the slightest.

They use their hands to make up for what they can’t do with their mouth, their left fondling his fuzzy balls and their right pumping his cock—and that made all the difference. Leona was panting like a racehorse, his chest was heaving, and his arms shook under the weight of his own pleasure—just barely able to support himself.

Yuu couldn’t see him from their place between his legs but man oh MAN could they hear him and what they heard sent waves to their ego. Serves him right for underestimating them.

“S-shit!”

Their thoughts abruptly stop and thier eyes blow wide open as the man involuntarily bucks up into their mouth choking them with his cock as the massive thing violently assaults the back of their throat. It takes everything in them to not gag—fuck, it takes everything in them to retain their composure and throw up on the man.

Yuu extracts themselves from the cock with a small grimace and a trail of slob connecting them to his cock, then they all but snarl, “Do I need to tie you down?? You about fucking chocked me, asshole!”

“Really? To me it looked like you took that small bout of deep throating like a champ.” He smirks and tilts his head, his face flushed red with tension. “Didn’t gag or anything. Now get back to work, I’m getting soft over here.”

They scoff, indignant to his words, then immediately getsssssszc back to work. This time, now that they, whether they wanted to or not, got a… feel for his size and what pleasurable acts he liked, they allowed themselves to be bolder with their advances. Slowly they lowered their head onto his cock, taking him into their mouth until his cock reached the back of their through again, but this time?

They aren’t stopping there.

No, stopping there would be pussy shit and they aren’t a pussy. This time, they kept going. Steadying themselves by placing their hands on the ground, they slowly push the cock, albeit hesitantly, past their uvula, down their throat and soon enough they find themselves nose deep in his bush—basically pressed against his pelvis. Yuu could feel Leona's girth press against their airways from their throat, rendering the process of breathing uncomfortably difficult, but the pain was so so worth it when they felt full body shudders start running down the beastmen’s body and heard his loud moan echo throughout the botanical garden unrestrained like the fierce roar of his animal counterpart.

“Shiiiiit, herbivore…” He sucks in a breath. “Your skills aren’t bullshit after all.”

Of course they aren’t. Contrary to how they hold themselves here in twisted wonderland and how “touch me not” they are with the people here, they were known for slutting it up back home between college classes and part time jobs. So naturally this is nothing to them and their plethora of experience and they’re just getting started.

Yuu’s hands rose from the ground and trailed Leona’s inner thighs, inching closer and closer to the beastman’s ass, but coming full stop before getting any closer. Inquisitively, they look up at Leona from their place. The man in question just gives an uncharacteristically jerky nod, understanding their intentions.

Now that consent is theirs, they resume, their hands continuing thier trek upwards until they reach his twitching hole. Yuu slowly prodded at the puckered hole with a finger, anticipating resistance considering how much of a tight ass leona could be but to their shock their finger slipped in easily. Laughably easy, in their opinion.

Now they know he’s good for it if he ever puts it on the table, good information, if Yuu says so themself, and that they don’t need to take baby steps in fingering him. Seeing that he’s probably taken much bigger to have obtained such easy access. (Yuu still can’t get over that. Like holy shit, the Leona Kingscholar has been bent before. Who woulda thunk?)

Finding his g-spot, his prostate, was easy and once they had contact they finally heard—no, felt, Leona come undone. Ragged breaths, unfinished words, a large range of sharp curses—in what Yuu can only assume is the twst’s equivalent to Swahili—to pitiful pleading. Y’know, the works. And Yuu had the luxury of hearing all of it as they made a full frontal assault on his g-spot.

Man, if they could magic up a second pair of eyes to glimpse even a fraction of his fucked-out expression, Yuu could die a happy janitor. Too bad they don’t have magic (Cough) but the obscene amount of pre forcing its way down their throat was confirmation enough.

“I’m getting close…”

They extract themself from his crotch and smirk at him. “You gonna cum for me, Leo?”

He nods jerkily.

“You wanna cum in my mouth?” They say, teasing, inviting.

Leona nods again, faster this time.

Yuu smiles at him, a hint of genuine enjoyment on their face—one that sent lava pooling in the beastmen’s lower gut and slick pre-cum oozing from the tip of his cock. He’s close. They can taste it.

And that sends an idea though their mind.

“Say… you’ve been so good about doing as I say up till now, so, why don’t I let you have a freebie? Just this once, seeing that you're at your limit now.”

He looks at them confused, too out of breath to verbally respond but his eyes speak for him and at that Yuu explains his reward.

“I’m gonna let you fuck my face until you cum.” They make a lewd gesture with their hand to their mouth. “I want you to gag me like you mean it. Just like you did earlier.” Leona’s eyes widened. They continue. “I won’t put up a fight either. I know a big strong sexy lion like yourself loves easy prey, so I’ll be Just That~”

Yuu grabs Leona's hands and places them on the back of their head, then lays theirs down on the ground in an act of submission. He stares at them, an unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes showing… worry?

“Don’t worry, I can take a lot of punishment.” They assure, then they say, “Now have at me! We have twenty minutes until classes start and I wanna get outta here before students start showing up!” Or Crowley asked them to do something else. But that ain’t either here or there.

“…You sure?”

Yuu responds by kissing the tip of Leona’s weeping cock, winking at him as they did and the effect is immediate.

Leona pushes himself to his knees and begins desperately thrusting into their maw. His thrusts are slow at first, as if he’s afraid of hurting them or going to far, but slowly that worry fades to the back of his mind as lust overpowered reason and his desire to finally have release—and also maybe have the luxury of painting the cocky herbivore’s mouth white with his seed has his thrusting speed gradually increase to breakneck speeds.

There is no warning between the wet noises of Yuu’s gags and Leona’s animalistic grunts of the soon approaching beastmen’s climax, only a loud roar was given as thick ropes of cum spewed into the back of their throat, dribbled from the corners of their mouth, out of their nostrils and onto their coveralls due to this continued thrusts. But he wasn’t done yet, no, just one orgasm wasn’t enough to satiate him. Not in his state.

His thrusts became more erratic—choking them with his cock—and the copious amounts of cum he produced somehow? All of it, forced down their gullet each time, and no, they did not spit any of it out.

No spitting here. Spitters are quitters and Yuu isn’t a quitter. (They aren’t—and the leakage earlier was Leona’s fault, not theirs. They take no responsibility.)

And it’s not like Leona would let them spit anyway. (Which they wouldn’t, just so you know) The beastmen kept at least nine inches in them at all times and that wasn’t even all of him, he held into Yuu’s head in a vice-like almost desperate grip as his hips bucked into their face, releasing one last monster of a load down their throat before pulling out his now flaccid cock and collapsing beside them in a sweaty heap.

“Holy,” they cough, a result of some semen going down the wrong hole during the face fucking. Their voice is raspy to their own ears but they take it as a job well done. “Uh, holy shit. You were pent the fuck up, weren’t you? Didn't know anyone could cum like that outside of porn. Heheh.”

Yuu collapses their back and glances at Leona. The man is breathing heavily with his eyes closed, a hand on his forehead.

Tentatively, they say, “You good?”

“…Shouldn’t I be asking you that instead, Yuu?” He says lowly, turning his head in their direction. “Is your throat ok?”

“I’ve been through worse.”

His eyebrow raises, then he smirks. “Yeah, like Jack?”

They nod, caught in a lie, but not willing to admit it just yet. “Yeah, like Jack. You should try him out for a test drive and see how your throat holds up after. Won’t be so funny then when you're the one sounding like Dr. Girlfriend for the next couple of business days will it?”

“Yeah, right. But seriously, are you doin alright? I don’t hold anything back.” He asks again, a concerned glint in his otherwise tired eyes.

Again, they say, “And I told you that I could handle a lot of punishment. This is nothing if not a minor inconvenience to me—the most bothersome thing is that I smell like dick, sweat, cum, and dirt now, but other than that, all is good.”

Yuu hobbles to their feet and stretches, then turns on their heels and begins to leave.

“You’re leavin just like that? You didn’t even get to off yourself though…?” The beastmen questioned, now in a seated position.

“Yeah, a shame, I know. I got classes and I need to get ready,” they groan then yawn, exhaustedly. “Double shame that I spent so much time on you, I missed my pre-class nap…”

“Why not skip classes with me if you're so tired? No one’s gonna keel over if you miss a single day of class.”

Actually someone might. That someone being Grim. Knowing him, he’ll fuck up a potion and somehow make mustard gas or devil’s bane or some shit. Really, anything could happen if they leave him unsupervised. Ace too.

And Deuce.

… Do they really want to go to classes today?

…

Yuu walks back over to Leona’s prone form and flops down beside him, laying down.

Leona smirks at them, his tail flicking. “Stayin after all, Yuu?”

They shrug. “I can’t be bothered to deal with anyone’s bullshit today without at least a full twelve hours of sleep first.”

Yuu cuddles into him and Leona reciprocates by throwing an arm around them.

There’s a moment of comfortable silence between them.

“I’ll pay you back for your help, Yuu,” Leona promised, breaking the silence.

“I look forward to it… and put your pants back on.”

Twsited-Lemy June 24 DO NOT REPOST

#lemy writes stuff #twisted wonderland #twst #twst mc #twst yuu #twst leona #twst leona kingscholar #leona x mc #leona x yuu #twst leona x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #twst fanfic #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut

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snowbellewells · 2 days ago

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Birthday Fic for @kmomof4: "Dreams that You Wish Will Come True" {Part Three} *Story Now Complete*

Oh goodness, the day is finally here! Poor Krystal @kmomof4 had to wait almost until her next birthday for her gift to be finished, but here is the last chapter to this Reverse Cinderella CS AU. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I really enjoyed trying to tie this up with a big fairy tale happy ending bow! I hope all of you reading it will enjoy and let me know what you think.

Without further adieu, here is Part Three...

Summary: Granted a night to seek adventure and dreams, young Killian Jones meets young Princess Emma at her birthday ball. Though the moment is filled with all the excitement and magic of the best fairy tales, it is over too soon and he must leave before the dream is shattered. Will they find each other again?

A Reverse Cinderella AU for (@kmomof4) Krystal's Birthday

You can also read from the beginning here on Tumblr, or on AO3, if that is your preference...

Part Three

When Killian managed to escape the palace, slipping through the wide front gates with a deep sigh of relief, he could see the carriage in which he had arrived waiting for him, Liam beckoning him frantically from the window. He had no time to mourn leaving the stunning princess - who had seemed to wish he would stay - or the marvelous evening he had enjoyed. He did not know the exact consequences which would be visited on him if he missed his given deadline, but he did not relish finding out, particularly in front of an entire ball’s audience as witnesses. Her Royal Highness Emma of Misthaven had beguiled him completely, more than he would have even imagined possible, and he would have remained there beside her on that balcony, or holding her in his arms as they danced, forever if it were possible, but it was simply not to be.

It was only as he was seated and they were speeding away from the castle that Killian delved his hand into his pocket, fishing for the ring that had once belonged to their mother so he could return it to Liam’s care. But to his surprised dismay, his fingers brushed only the inside of his pockets, not a smooth curve of metal. Withdrawing his hand with a sinking feeling, Killian looked to his elder sibling forlornly, knowing his brother would immediately sense something was not right.

“What is it, Little Brother?” Liam spoke up right on cue, concern evident in the crack of his voice. “I realize you had to leave the party early, but your face suddenly looks as if something much worse has happened.”

It was a testament to just how upset Killian was that the customary instinct to correct his brother’s annoying choice of moniker didn’t even whisper in his mind. Drawing in a resigned breath, it was all Killian could do to meet Liam’s eye, though determined to give him at least that much. Instead, he pulled both pockets inside out to demonstrate the proof of his words. “Liam, forgive me, but Mother’s ring is no longer here. I didn’t take it out. I felt its presence at my side often throughout the night, and yet… now…it is gone.”

Both of the Jones brothers seemed sunk in painful silence after that, not sure what - if any - words there were to offer after such an irreversible finding. The ring was not intrinsically of value, but it was priceless as a physical tie to the woman who bore them and loved them both with all she had until life was taken from her much too soon. Liam looked out the window, wondering how to ease this pain and how to ease Killian’s obvious guilt for something that was not his fault at all, just an unfortunate loss which could have happened to anyone. A muscle worked in his jaw, causing Killian to incorrectly assumer anger or irritation as he snuck glances at Liam, causing him to berate himself even further. He tried to replay the events of the evening - difficult because his focus had narrowed to little beyond the Princess Emma once she’d spoken to him - desperate to come up with any moment, any place, the ring might have been lost. And still he came up with nothing.

Killian had already been saddened by having to leave the beautiful young woman who had needed only moments to steal his heart, but his spirits had sunken lower still with the loss of the irreplaceable keepsake with which Liam had entrusted him. As the carriage slowed upon the cobblestone streets leading down to the docks, the wheels rolled to a halt and Liam reached out to grasp his forearm tightly; a grasp firm, but far from being harsh or painful. His brother’s eyes were stormy slate, almost gray instead of their normal slightly darker blue than his own. Yet, Killian finally realized, they held a hurt, yes, but none of the recrimination or blame he had assumed.

“Brother, it wasn’t your fault,” Liam rasped, holding his gaze steadily in a bid to convey his seriousness. “You did nothing wrong. The ring is gone, aye, but naught can be done about it now. These things happen, and we shall simply have to go on without it.”

Killian blinked, nonplussed, uncertain that he had heard Liam correctly. “But y-you kept it safe all this time… a-and the first time you trusted me with it, I - I lost it… The one thing we still had of Mother’s,” Killian stammered, eyes falling to his lap.

“Yes, but Killian,” Liam soothed, calloused forefinger curling under his chin to tip Killian’s face up to meet his own once more, “it was an accident - one that could have happened to me just as easily, or to anyone, for that matter. Besides, it is still just a thing, precious as it was to us for being hers. It isn’t her; holding onto it won’t bring her back. We still have our memories, with or without the talisman to accompany them.”

Killian was speechless and overcome at those words, and at the certain knowledge that Liam meant them sincerely. Finally, he managed to nod his understanding and swallowed hard, though he was unable to force any words past the lump in his throat. Leaning over where their knees nearly met between the facing carriage seats, he threw his arms around his brother’s neck, embracing him tightly. “Thank you,” he finally managed wetly against Liam’s shoulder.

To which Liam merely hummed lowly, returned his embrace and patted his back until they parted, much calmer and more at ease.

Stepping down the cobblestone byway, Killian barely took note of the horse and driver clattering off - brought by magic and obviously returning the same way. He looked down to the end of the dock. Through the misty lantern-lit dim of earliest morning, he could see where their ship bobbed gently in her berth. No matter what he had experienced this night - the magical, enthralling moments he could never have dreamed if they hadn’t been true, the panicked flight as the clock struck midnight, and the horrible loss of their family token, the first charming blush of love and the aching pull of tearing himself from her - he had come full circle back to where he’d begun. He would never forget the magical meeting, the chance to dance with the princess herself; yet, it had not truly changed anything, now that it was over. He would still board the ship again, working side-by-side with his brother until they were free, and he would simply have to treasure what he remembered of the marvelous night he had been gifted. For one night, he could have almost imagined he was a prince to match her in a happily ever after. And that would have to be enough for him.

~~~~*~~~~

Though Killian would not have thought it possible in the immediate aftermath, and he had been loathe to open his eyes to the familiar bunk and crowded quarters the morning following Princess Emma’s birthday ball, life did rather quickly settle back into its familiar rhythm. It certainly wasn’t the fine clothing, rich food, and orchestral music he had experienced for those few fleeting hours at the royal palace, nor would climbing up to the crow’s nest for lookout duty or the well-rehearsed way he and Cook wove and slipped around each other in the limited galley space to prepare and serve the crew’s meals be anything equal to the unforgettable whirl of the dances he had shared with his blonde siren that night. But, though there was an ache in his chest, a void he had not known existed until meeting her, Killian Jones was much too busy, worked much too hard from dawn until dark to dwell, or grow truly miserable. He wished he had not been forced to leave the way he had, that he could have at least taken time to explain to the princess, but he tried to be comforted by the fact that she surely was not suffering for it; Princess Emma must have forgotten all about him before the week was out. He was a nobody with whom she had shared barely an hour, and with all the other suitors and friends and family by which she was surrounded, she would obviously be right as rain in no time.

As if they had never met.

If only that weren’t the opposite of comfort to him.

And if only he truly believed it.

Occasionally, on quiet night when his duties were completed and he could slip away without being noticed, Killian sat on deck, looking up at the stars silently, thinking even their heavenly glow could not match the sparkle of her green eyes. It was some tiny solace that, as far removed as he was from her, if Emma looked up to the sky as well, they would be gazing at the very same stars.

He simply could not relinquish the small flare of hope that had been ignited inside by either the incredible night, or the magic of his fairy godmother, or some strange amalgamation of the two. Sometimes, he even swore he heard Nova’s small, musical voice whispering in his ear amidst the quiet sky and the gentle lapping of waves against the hull, telling him not to give up, his story was not over yet.

Killian Jones, well out to sea and far away from the happenings of Misthaven and the talk of those who lived there, had no way of knowing that far from being forgotten, his princess thought of him every day. She tried valiantly to conceal her emotions, to appear normal and unfazed by the fact that the young man to whom she had given her undivided attention and favor had fled from her ball - and her - and seemingly disappeared. The ones who knew her best were hardly fooled, but they allowed Emma her brave face. After all, she was still searching for him.

When Will had first shown her the antique ring on the worn chain and told her it had been in the pocket of the young man who’d captured her heart, Emma had taken it as a sign. The fact that she held in her possession an item that was obviously dear to him had been some encouragement to her in the immediate aftermath of Killian’s hasty exit. She had been certain he would quickly return looking for the trinket. Her plan had not been to hold the ring ransom of course, but to hand it over gladly once he explained to her what had gone wrong, why he’d left her with such speed, and she hoped to ascertain the truth in his eyes or his voice to understand if it had all been in her head, or if what she had felt between them was still there.

However, days, and then weeks, then nearly a month, had passed with no sign of Killian, no appearance made to claim what was rightfully his. Emma vacillated between wanting to box Will’s ears for picking Killian’s pockets in the first place and taking from him something that she could just feel had great sentimental value, and then wanting to squeeze him about the waist until his breath caught, thankful she had something to hold onto, to remind her that Killian and that whole night, those precious moments in his arms and together on the balcony, had not been a fictitious mirage. She would admit to no one that she slept with the ring beneath her pillow each night, her fingers tangled in the chain, but she did just that. It dangled from her grasp as she stared up at the moon and stars from her balcony, wondering where he might be under those same constellations, and she often fell asleep wondering if she would ever see the mysterious young man of her dreams again.

At first, when Killian had failed to return, Princess Emma had been stymied. She was clever and determined, and though hardly spoiled, she was beloved and honored by all of those around her; rarely did her wishes and plans fail to come to fruition. It was not until she finally broke down and spoke to her father when they were alone in his study one afternoon that a new course of action began to take shape.

After reluctantly admitting that she wanted to go searching for the young gentleman she had met at the ball (a fact her father had long since surmised but was prudent enough not to mention) and explaining how they had seemingly been interrupted by the ticking of time itself, the King suggested a plan that Emma could enthusiastically approve. It was ingenious in seeming perfectly natural for her to do anyway as she matured and her royal duties as heir to the throne increased. In fact, Emma wondered how she had not come up with it herself.

From there on out, whenever her father went to inspect a ship of their fleet, offer a sailor a promotion, or christen a new ship, she would accompany him. No one would find it at all odd for the princess to do so; in fact it might add to the occasion, and she meanwhile could look for her sailor in particular.

Unfortunately, just as Killian had no way of knowing Emma was seeking him so earnestly, she had no way of knowing that his ship was not part of their Misthavian fleet, and no matter how many she boarded she would not find him there. She had taken up her father’s idea with unfettered enthusiasm, but as several more months passed with no further luck than before she couldn’t help being disheartened. It would seem that somehow this one special person who had touched her soul had somehow sailed beyond her reach - somewhere she might never find him.

It might have carried on that way interminably if Killian’s fairy godmother had not once again used a touch of her magic to intervene. While Silver’s ship was hardly a law-abiding vessel of any kingdom, there was little chance of her charge being united with the young princess, whom she as a fairy could see was his True Love. And Nova was tired of waiting; this young man had already been twisted and pulled by the vagaries of Fate for entirely too long. The fact that he had been so surprised by her initial appearance proved that. She was called upon to be his benefactress, and now that she had begun the job, Nova was not ready to give up.

It was simple enough for a clever and determined being with magic to effect a small but troubling leak in the hull of the pirate ship - one that necessitated their entering the nearest port - conveniently, as Nova had intended, Misthaven’s - and docking for repairs. Easier still to make certain that the shipwright Silver sent his first mate to see had difficulty locating the needed materials, ensuring the ship and its crew would remain long enough for her youthful sailor to be reunited with his match.

Once the fairy had accomplished her part, she did not even have to provide a nudge on the other side as she had anticipated. It would seem that True Love carried within itself a powerful type of kismet. Barely had Captain Silver and most of his crew disembarked and dispersed throughout the village - to taverns, market stalls, and beyond - than a commotion alerted those few left aboard to an entourage of some sort approaching along the docks.

Killian was below deck when the heavily arrayed and armored phalanx neared his ship’s berth and paused to look up. He had scrubbing in the galley to do and a mess of potatoes to peel and slice for dinner besides. So it was only an older sailor and Liam, left aboard as lookouts, who actually saw the visitors were King David, the Princess, and a number of castle guards, now formally requesting permission to come aboard. Neither sailor was prepared to deny the monarch, regardless of the fact that they were hardly a ship of his loyal fleet, nor strictly under his domain.

Once the King planted his feet solidly on the bare planks of the ship, he faced the two men with one hand resting confidently on the pommel of his sword and his discerning eyes seeming to drill through Liam uncomfortably. “Are you all who are left on the vessel? And what is your purpose within our port? You are not from here, that much is obvious.”

Before either Liam or his befuddled compatriot could decide how best to answer that second query, the princess stepped to King David’s side with quiet dignity, laying a soft hand upon her father’s forearm as though giving a calming reminder. She did not speak aloud, but the look shared between father and daughter spoke volumes, and coupled with a slight shake of her head, the King seemed to pause and mentally draw back, ceding center stage to his daughter.

“Greetings,” the Princess began, her voice calm and measured, but carrying a low, husky warmth that Liam could immediately admit was intriguing. “Thank you for your hospitality. We realize, of course, that this is an open port as long as no malfeasance is occurring or harm is coming to any of our subjects via a visitor’s presence; therefore, you have extended us a courtesy in allowing us to board.”

Liam’s eyes shot back to the king and his gathered attachment, as the monarch flinched slightly but held himself in check, and many of those armed and at the ready to defend him seemed to fidget restlessly. It had to be clear that they were neither a naval nor a merchant vessel, and none on the deck seemed at ease with the other contingent’s presence except for the Princess standing in the middle of them all.

Her eyes were knowing, and her mouth bore an almost bemused upward quirk at the corner of her full, pink lips. He could swear she was practically winking at him, as if to convey that she knew who they were, but was not about to let it concern or thwart her mission. “Let us simply agree that lectures on moral sea trading practice and fealty to kingdom and crown are not the purpose for our visit,” she assured, her voice steady and strong, but also nonthreatening; a true feat since her words confirmed that she understood what they were normally about on the Merry Rogue.

She stepped nearer still to Liam, every movement poised and graceful as the Queen she would one day become, and peered up into his face, searching his eyes as if she saw something within their depths that she recognized.

Nonplussed by both her words and bearing, as well as her mere presence altogether, Liam simply dipped his chin in an obliging nod to acknowledge her words. “Understood,” he agreed simply. “And if that be the case, then what do you ask of us, your Highness?”

Beneath her placid surface, the Princess’ eyes flickered with a pained emotion as she drew in a deep breath, then leaned closer to confide quietly. “I am hoping to find someone who means a great deal to me,” she admitted at a volume that quite possibly only he could hear. “I’ve been seeking him for months now, on each new ship christened, at every ball since, whenever we offer promotions or awards to our sailors…” She trailed off and swallowed hard before continuing once more. “I have used any capacity available to me as princess to search, but in truth, I did not step aboard this ship today as a royal, but merely as a person trying to follow her heart. When we neared your ship’s berth, I had a feeling, a pull in my gut which I couldn’t ignore. And so,” here she pulled herself to her full height again, straightening and squaring her shoulders as if to ready herself for any response, then repeated the question her father had asked, but in a tone of desperate hope. “Are there any others on board this ship at present?”

Liam’s heart had begun to race as she spoke, realizing more with each moment that passed that the beauty standing before him was as taken with his younger brother as Killian had been with her. He had known the princess on sight, but had been wary, uncertain of the royals’ purpose at first and intent on keeping Killian from further pain or risk if he could. Seeing now that his brother’s silent yearning - obvious despite Killian’s dogged efforts to carry on with life - had not been in vain, nor was it one-sided, Liam could not keep a wide grin from stretching across his face ridiculously, nearly bowled over by the miraculous turn of events.

“Just one other, Princess,” he replied. “My brother is below in the galley. Allow me to fetch him for you.” Liam knew that his voice had trembled audibly with emotion, nerves and excitement, but was powerless to stop it. Moving to the open hatch, he called down the stairs. “Killian! You’re needed topside, Little Brother!”

They could all hear the rattle and clang of dishes banging below and then a playfully exasperated call in answer, “That’s younger brother!” in a tone that clearly said it had been repeated often before it was followed by the added, “I’ll be there in a moment! Hold on!”

They waited wordlessly, but it was hard to decide who was more anxious for him to appear - Liam or the Princess. Both gave each other nervous smiles, fidgeting and shuffling their feet, and neither was willing to look away from the open hatch and the steps leading below deck.

When a dark, ruffled head of hair appeared in the opening, followed by the familiar blue-eyed face and crooked smile, then shoulders and torso as Killian climbed the ladder fully, Princess Emma drew in a sharp breath, her eyes widening and going teary-bright as she saw him before her at last. After all her searching and beginning to wonder if he could be found, there he stood - not a figment of her imagination at all, thankfully. Emma glanced quickly over her shoulder at her Papa, as though confirming that he saw Killian too.

King David merely nodded, a gentle look on his regal face now, pleased for her and seeming to urge her forward, to do whatever she had come to do.

That seemed to steady Misthaven’s hair to the throne once more. Emma wet her lips nervously with the tip of her tongue, her eyes roving over his features avidly, even as her fingers twisted together where she clasped her hands before her. No shrinking violet, even in this clearly pivotal moment, however, she drew a step nearer still and finally addressed him directly. “Killian, you’re really here. I began to fear you’d vanished off the face of the Earth.”

She gave him a playful grin along with those shaky words, but Killian’s heart stuttered at the sincerity he heard beneath her attempt at brave jest. She had questions, rightfully so, and unbelievable as it seemed, self doubts as well unless his senses misjudged things. In truth, he was still trying to recover from the surprise at seeing her there on a ship fit for rogues and scoundrels, not royalty, and his heart tried to beat from his chest at the very idea that she would have sought him out after his flight from the ball. He was hardly worthy of her undivided attention then, much less her extended effort after the fact. Huskily, Killian managed to at least say something, knowing he needed to speak and not just stare at her mutely in an attempt to drink in her image. “Aye, it’s me, Princess. Killian Jones at your service.” He sketched a quick bow with those words, then winced at the awkwardness of the hasty gesture.

The princess gave a huff of humor and wry self-deprecation at his response. “It would have been helpful to have that last name before now,” she sighed, shaking her head.

Killian didn’t know how to answer that, still baffled to find her standing before him in all her glowing, golden beauty, much less that she would have remembered even the first name he had carefully given her or try to seek him out with it.

Princess Emma seemed to shake herself from that frustration quickly, waving her hand as if to bat away her own words. “Nevermind,” she pressed on, meeting his gaze earnestly, “in any case, I have something I need to give you.”

Reaching into the small pouch that rested at her hip, Emma drew out a blessedly recognizable circle of metal on a heavy chain - the missing ring that Killian had believed he’d lost. Almost breathlessly, Killian reached out to take the treasured piece of jewelry from her, opening his hand and clasping his fingers closed around it as the chain slid from her grip and the comforting weight landed on his palm. “Thank you,” he stammered, dazed with the turn of events yet again. “I cannot tell you how much it means to have this back… It- it belonged to my mother.”

Emma’s eyes went soft and misty, as if she could somehow discern the loss behind that statement. The small grin she was giving him wobbled a bit, but she nodded before adding, “Well, it was the least I could do after my ne’er-do-well friend picked it from your pocket. Before you shower me with too much gratitude, I believe I owe you an apology.”

Here, she bowed her head, suddenly appearing as bashful as he had felt from the start. Unable to stop himself, or consider the impropriety of his actions, Killian leaned forward, tipping her chin up with gentle fingers so he could meet her glistening jade eyes once more. “No please, don’t worry about that, your Highness. Truly, I am in your debt.”

At his words, her smile grew, blooming across her face like sunshine after rain. Neither of them spoke for some time as they gazed at each other breathlessly. None of those scattered around them moved or spoke either, as if unwilling to shatter a moment in which the very air seemed to waver with a charge of energy or magic, some force that could not be denied.

When Princess Emma spoke again, she seemed to be gathering her courage once more before nervously chewing her lower lip and reaching out to clasp his hand in both of her smaller ones. “I have one more confession to make,” she admitted in barely more than a whisper.

Killian didn’t know where the cheekiness that somehow overtook him just then came from, but he tilted his head, arching one brow curiously as he did, before rasping, “You mean beyond theft, Milady? Why what else could it be?” He wanted to bite off his own tongue as soon as the flippant retort was uttered, but then quickly changed his mind upon seeing the flush that rose up the princess’ cheeks and the intrigued spark that flickered across her expression. He nearly laughed aloud before her next words utterly floored him and stunned him to silence.

“Yes, something else,” she recovered, seeming determined to say whatever else she had in mind. Gathering a breath that visibly filled her lungs and then letting it out in a whoosh of air, she pressed their joined hands tightly and plunged ahead. “Right now, I stand before you, not as a princess and future ruler, but as a woman - young though I might be - who has been unable to forget you since the night we met. I might have held your family heirloom unintentionally, but it would seem you have held onto my heart.” She paused just briefly there, pinning him with the hope in her eyes as his mouth fell open, all words completely gone, just as she asked for a response. “Killian Jones, will you stay in Misthaven and allow us to discover what might be here between us? Is it possible you might feel the same?”

Killian’s mouth opened and closed fruitlessly without any sound coming out. Panicked, he began to hope she could somehow see the pounding of his heart beneath his shirt where it seemed to be attempting to beat right out of his chest. Of course, he felt the same! But in that moment he couldn’t summon the words to tell her so…

His worries that she might see his floundering and change her mind, and the racing whirl of his scattered thoughts, was interrupted by a strong nudge in his back from Liam, nearly causing him to fall forward at Emma’s feet. “Well, answer her, Brother!” Liam urged jovially, his voice brimming with happiness and humor. “Heaven knows you’ve been miserable missing her, don’t leave the lady in suspense now that she’s here before you again!”

Flicking a quick, embarrassed look over his shoulder, Killian noticed the genuine pride in him and excited joy for his good fortune shining from his elder brother’s face, just as it had that night they had presented him with clothing and a way to the ball. Turning back to face Emma once more, he noted her spotless white gown and the ermine stole about her shoulders, the shining curls of her hair and her perfect face. He didn’t want to think about the stains that were undoubtedly scattered over his patched and threadbare clothes, nor the smudges and cuts that must be visible on his face and hands from hard work and long days in the wind and sun. He wanted to tell her how much he had thought of her as well, but he simply wasn’t sure he had the right…

Just as she had before, Emma tilted her head, studying his face, still hopeful, though anxious as well, and then her eyes softened. It was as if once more she had read his thoughts and knew exactly what he was thinking and feeling, and she understood him in a way he had never experienced before. Stepping so close that their noses nearly brushed and she could speak for his ears alone, she prodded tenderly. “It’s alright, Killian. Just tell me the truth.”

Meeting her gaze fully, Killian could only be honest, deserving of the gift she was offering or not. Reaching out tenderly, he brushed a curl back over her shoulder, trembling at the nerve it took him to do so. “Aye, Princess, I feel the same. I would love nothing more than to remain by your side. I am the furthest thing from a prince or nobleman, but if you truly want to continue our acquaintance, I am happy to do as you wish.”

Her beaming face seemed like a vision from a dream, almost blinding him. They stood grinning at each other for several long seconds before the Princess reached out, caught the edges of his collar and pulled him the last few inches to her so their lips could meet. The moment they did, shocks ran through Killian, colors bursting behind his eyes. Everyone on the deck of the Rogue felt the wave of power that radiated out from the two young people caught up in their first kiss. Killian and Emma jolted back a step, and all who were present seemed to reel and barely stay on their feet.

Killian struggled to grasp what had happened as he heard the King let out a whoop of recognition from behind them. Just before he surged forward to gather both his daughter and her chosen consort up in an exuberant embrace, Princess Emma’s eyes widened in shock as she stared at him. Looking down, Killian found that his appearance had been transformed. Gone were the work clothes of a servant, and in their place was the finery he had worn the night of the ball, as if returned by magic. From head to toe, he looked as though he had been put right back in that very moment.

Caught up in the King’s strong arms and pressed warmly to his Princess’ side, Killian was stunned once again when he heard the man huskily whisper to his daughter. “True Love’s Kiss, Pumpkin. You’ve found your own.”

It was almost more than Killian could fathom, but as his mind steadied, he knew. He could feel in it his bones, and in his own heart. His eyes returned to Emma and neither of them could bring themselves to look away. The pleasant warmth and sense of rightness, of home at last, that enveloped him then was only strengthened by a moment’s echo of what sounded like tinkling fairy laughter in his ear.

~~~~*~~~~

Six months later, when Killian Jones and Princess Emma of Misthaven stood on the balcony of the palace to announce their engagement to the people, no one gathered there could remember a more joyous or perfect occasion. Killian was announced as a lieutenant of the Queen’s Royal Navy, to which he and Liam had both been enlisted almost as soon as he and Emma were reunited, free at last from the service of Captain Silver in which they had been trapped since their youth. Laughter rang out as the King’s footman, standing next to Lieutenant Jones’ side pretended to take the engagement ring for the Princess from the sailor’s own pocket and presented it to him with a winking bow so Killian could place it on her finger. None of the assembled crowd below could know the secret significance of the gesture or the role Will Scarlet had inadvertently played in their finding one another again. Nor would they realize that the ring was Killian and Liam’s mother’s, the same one Emma had returned to him that day - now a symbol not just of his past and the family he had lost, but of their future and the family they would create together. Her parents and his brother stood with them proudly, her mother beaming even as she dashed away happy tears, and both King David and Liam chests puffed with pride at how far the two young people they loved most had come.

It was the beginning of something special, another True Love Story for the ages. A happily ever after if ever there was one. And all of those gathered to witness the kiss they shared after Killian placed the ring on the Princess’ finger agreed that no two people could cherish it more.

Tagging a few who might be interested: @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines

@spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @jonesfandomfanatic @myfearless-love

@anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xarandomdreamx @stahlop @eastwesthomeisbest @motherkatereloyshipper

@belovedcreation @goforlaunchcee @laianely @undercaffinatednightmare @caught-in-the-filter @4getfulimaginator2022

@gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @resident-of-storybrooke @scientificapricot

@xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @grimmswan @ultraluckycatnd

@ohmakemeahercules @everything-person @kday426 @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly

#cs birthday gift fic #cs reverse Cinderella au fic #dreams that you wish will come true #part three #complete fic #ouat Enchanted Forest au ff #fic for @kmomof4 #princess Emma #lieutenant duckling #of a sort anyway

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kafka030 · 25 days ago

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AFK (ARENA n JOURNEY) - GENERAL HOGAN

I would like to share this background from AFK Arena of Hogan... My very first favourite Hero from AFK Arena and still my favourite also in AFK Journey...

If Hogan in AFK Arena links with the General Hogan in AFK Journey then... Hogan from AFK Arena is when he's a Knight serving the King while General Hogan in AFK Journey is now a retired Knight... Becomes the magistrate of Holistone like how the first introduction of him towards Merlin !

Still serves the Lightbearer Empire... Of course... But not too intense...

. . .

If you compare the picture of Hogan from AFK Arena and AFK Journey... You noticed that Hogan (AFK Arena) is younger, less muscular, simple armor compared to Hogan (AFK Journey) which is older (having more white hair), more muscular, more refined design of his armor...

. . .

However, I do enjoy reading it... I forgot that the Heroes in AFK Arena really have long Backgrounds in their description after summoning them...

I do wish that General Hogan will be playable in AFK Journey in the future... He's a Tank in AFK Arena...

. . .

Note: Picture from AFK Arena Wikipedia

. . .

Note: Why this background of his sounds... sad here..?

. . .

Note: It seems that Lightbearers and Maulers didn't get along well in AFK Arena... I guess that's why General Hogan sent Merlin to investigate the Mauler region instead of his other subordinates back in the Song of Strifes Season in AFK Journey... if AFK Arena lores connected to AFK Journey...

. . .

Note: Hogan make an alliance with Dwarves..? Sounds familiar with the current season, Echoes of Dissent... Right..?

. . .

#afk journey #afk arena #afkj general hogan #afk general hogan #afk hogan #thoughts about afkj #thoughts about afk arena #take it with a grain of salt... i'm not a good analyst though... it's just my opinions...#verrry lengthy post... thank you for reading...#my words are... all over the place... again... do forgive me...

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itoshiexx · 8 months ago

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when you're mad and use their full name

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you're mad and use their full name

pairings: isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro and itoshi sae x gn!reader (separate) | warnings: little arguments, angst if u squint, reader is kinda hot headed? lol, mostly fluff and the boys wanting to be in your good graces.

notes: did i kick depression in the ass to finish this? not really. but it worked, and here i am! this is my nagi seishiro debut omgggg hopefully i did him justice and he's not too ooc. also new design for the scenarios to match my theme. enjoy, lovelies! let me know if you'd like especific scenarios and send me an ask :)

masterlist

ISAGI YOICHI

yoichi hoped he would die.

really.

it’s the least he deserved for making you angry — even more so because he didn’t know what made you angry in the first place. he spent the last fifteen minutes excavating his mind to try and remember what could have ticked you off so much that you don’t even wanna look at him.

he hates it. isagi needs your eyes on him, needs to hear your voice and touch your skin. and with the way you’re so silent and distant, he might be just like a man in the desert without water.

“baby,” he looked at you on the other end of the couch, intently watching the tv show in front of you. just a glimpse would make him breathe again. just a nod would ease his nerves. hell, he would even take a glare, as long as you were looking at him.

but he got nothing. zero. nada.

“baby, please,” he tried again. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you mad.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, but still didn’t spare him a glance. he sighed.

“i’ll never do it agai—”

“do you even know why you’re apologizing, isagi yoichi?!” you asked, exasperated. your boyfriend froze on the spot when hearing his full name, because of course he didn’t.

as far as he knew, you were having a great day together. he bought you breakfast from your favorite bakery, you made a delicious lunch and then you two went out shopping. he even gifted you with a beautiful necklace after an enthusiastic shop employee offered to show him some pieces—

oh.

“you got jealous of the saleswoman?”

“blah blah you got jealous of the saleswoman? heck yeah I did!” you impersonated him with a high pitched, sarcastic voice that showed just how mad you were. “she was all over you, yoichi, and you didn’t do anything!”

he swallowed thickly, daring to approach you on the couch. he hugged your frame, despite the crossed arms in front of your chest making it a little hard.

“i’m sorry, darling. i didn’t even notice she was being inappropriate because you’re the only one i pay attention to. and i always figured people would never dare be so bold if you’re by my side and we’re clearly together.”

his sweet words coated you, making you glance away, knowing that looking at his puppy eyes would end you for good.

“you should have done something anyway.”

“i know. i totally should, and i’m sorry i didn’t. i never meant to make you feel bad or let people disrespect you.” he rested his chin on your shoulder, breath shuddering right on your ear.

the sincerity in his voice was enough to chip away your anger, and you visibly relaxed in his embrace. yoichi held a breath of relief, knowing he still had to be careful.

“i’m sorry, baby. it won’t happen again. forgive me, please?” he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, and god, how could you keep being mad like that?

damn isagi yoichi and his genuine blue eyes.

you uncrossed your arms, embracing his instead, and finally looked at him with love again.

“fine. but just because you’re so charming, ‘ichi.”

he chuckled. “you’re the charming one. i’m totally under your spell, darling.”

and when your lips met, yoichi hoped to keep living just to have more of you.

NAGI SEISHIRO

people would often ask him if his detached, nonchalant persona ever got in his way through his life. seishiro would always say no, because everything and everyone he did care about understood his lazy way and inability to do… pretty much everything.

that didn’t mean he never made the effort, though. as much as nagi liked to live like a sloth and just go on with his life playing video games, there were still things in his life that were worth it. like football. his friends. and you, of course.

ever since you met, seishiro discovered that being with you wasn’t a bother. and after he fell in love and you became a couple, he found himself eager to indulge you, even if it meant going out of his way. his friends congratulated him and expressed genuine happiness to see how much he improved, and that, along with your beautiful smile, filled his heart with joy.

however, no matter how much he tried, he was still…

“nagi seishiro.”

a shiver ran down his spine with the sound of your voice, and not the good kind. he had never heard you sound so stern, so angry, so… disappointed, even. enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. so much so he immediately lifted his eyes from his console, only to find your harsh gaze.

“ehh? wha’ did i do, angel? don’t say my name like that,” he pouted, crawling towards your body splayed on the bed.

even when you tried to fight his embrace, nagi took advantage of his large frame to engulf you and lay his head on your chest, so you wouldn’t walk away in case you got any angrier.

“babeeeee,” he whined, hugging you tighter.

“let go of me,” you said, and he just shook his head. “you deserve it. you weren’t even listening to what i was saying, were you?”

what a hassle. he really wasn’t listening, but… well, he got way too focused on beating the last boss. could you really blame him?

he heard you scoff. “oh, my bad, i should have known it was the last boss. it’s more important than me anyway, right, nagi?”

fuck. fuck. fuck. did he say that out loud? he sounded like a dick. you had every right to be mad and call him by his full or last name.

nagi lifted his head from your chest to look at you, feeling his throat tighten with the sight of your teary eyes. guilt gnawed at his chest when seeing how upset and frustrated you were.

“eh, ’m sorry, pretty thing. i got too caught up ‘n didn’t notice you were talking t’me.”

“am i that invisible to you?” a tear almost rolled down your cheek. seishiro shook his head, a little more exasperated than usual.

“huh? ’f course not, angel. y’re never invisible. all i see is you. y’re the most important to me,” he held eye contact, and even though you wanted to tear your gaze away, seishiro’s eyes were more magnetizing than ever, even if your view was a little blurry.

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to lie, since he always claimed it was a hassle. you knew you were important to him, but his lack of consideration still hurt.

“i’ll apologize as many times as you wish. ‘m sorry for not listening and making you feel bad. i never wan’ you to feel bad, pretty thing.”

nagi used his strength to roll around and switch your positions, in a way you were on top of him instead. he started caressing your hair in a soothing motion, making your eyelashes flutter. “y’can talk as much as you want. i promise i’ll listen t’you.”

your eyes welled with tears for a different reason, and you hugged the striker as hard as you could. even if he faltered, seishiro never failed to make up to you and make you feel loved.

“promise, sei?”

“promise.”

ITOSHI SAE

although sae wasn’t exactly smart in the emotions field, he always knew when you weren’t happy with something. you scowled, huffed and rolled your eyes, keeping an eerie silence that was only broken when absolutely necessary.

at that moment, he was sure you weren’t happy with him.

you both kept to yourselves while still at the event, masquerading any problems for the cameras. sae had a hand at the small of your back and he could feel how stiff you were. the midfielder wouldn't admit that seeing you so uncomfortable around him made his heart pang.

at the limo, the path to your shared penthouse was quiet, and you brushed him off when he tried to hold your hand. sae could only stare at his window with furrowed brows, itching to dissipate this awkward atmosphere. he never liked when you were mad, especially at him.

he expected some sort of explosion when you got to your apartment, but you kept your glaze off him, trying to walk to the bedroom for your night routine without even sparing him a word.

nuh-uh. that wouldn’t do.

he held your wrist before you could go, and lightly pulled you so that you were facing him. your eyes widened with the sudden movement, but narrowed as soon as landed on his face.

“why are you mad?”

you scoffed. the audacity of this man.

“you know exactly why i’m mad, itoshi sae.”

shit, the government name? you were really fucking angry.

“i wouldn’t be asking if i knew,” he answered, immediately regretting it when you glared at him, as if saying that wasn’t the right answer. “i-i mean… i didn’t realize what was wrong, amor.”

you walked closer to your boyfriend, making him release your wrist. despite his typical stoic face, sae was clinging to your every word.

“itoshi sae, you can not talk to your little brother like that!” you nearly growled on his face, surprising him. “you were very rude and condescending, and that’s no way to speak to rin!”

he frowned. you were mad because of rin? the little green monster inside of him threatened to grow, but he forced him to stay put. sae didn’t want to anger you further, so he simply let his hands slither to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“i don’t think i was rud—” you lifted one eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “fine. i might have been kinda harsh.”

“and?” you crossed your arms.

he sighed. “i will apologize.”

“i’m serious about this, itoshi sae. i will ask rin—”

“i’ll tell him i’m sorry, okay? no need to keep talking about rin.” he interrupted, palms traveling to your ass while he nosed your neck. he planted a small kiss under your ear, huffing a minty breath that made you shudder. sae smirked. “and no need to keep calling me by full name, either. what happened to ‘cariño’?”

you held onto his biceps for some grounding, but still didn’t budge.

“you weren’t very sweet today, so it’s not fitting.”

he pouted while hiding in your neck, taking full advantage that you couldn’t see him, but was quick to withdraw to face you once again, touching your noses. one of his hands cradled your jaw, and you sighed with the pathetic effect your boyfriend had on you.

“perdóname, amor?” he whispered against your lips, eyes sincere like you knew he could be. your poor little heart could never resist him when he was like this, rarely vulnerable and eager for you.

you gave a long exhale, arms moving to tangle around his neck. and folded.

“as long as you make it right, mi cariño.”

if you like my writing and would like to support me, you can 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ! any amount is welcomed and very appreciated! ♥

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urmum-lovesme · 2 months ago

Text

Bunny (P12)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: well bazinga. here we are- I'm loving you guys all fangirling over rafe and bunny cause they're such cutie patooties. But happiness is not for free, so I'm really really sorry about this one- I hope ya'll can forgive me. (and rafe) (idk if I can)

warnings: angst :(, alcohol, smoking, weed, violence, fights, drunkenness, rafe being a little bitch

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13) (P14)

The air is heavy with the lingering warmth of the day, the sky streaked with dying gold and violet as Y/N steps out the back exit of the country club. The low hum of insects fills the silence, broken only by the soft scrape of her boots against the pavement. Her shoulders are tired, the strap of her bag crumpled in one hand, and she taps her phone screen with the other, the glow casting light across her features, a new message flashing on the screen.

JJ : Lost my charger again

JJ. : Its okay tho cuz I took yours

JJ : I'll give it back

JJ : (I won't)

A laugh spills quietly from her lips, soft and genuine. That familiar feeling of warmth spreads through her chest at his messages. It'd been a few weeks since she'd come back from Charleston- since JJ had finally got a job. And she had to admit he was trying, really trying, so now their long awkward conversation which ended with deafening silence had eased in to sweet and stupid messages and playful banter which filled the walls of their bedrooms once more. Her fingers typed out a reply—

Y/N : u better u loser

She places the phone into her pocket and glances up- and then stops dead in her tracks. Her car’s parked at the far end of the staff lot, right where she left it but what she didn’t leave, was the sleek black Range Rover sitting beside it, the glossy paint catching the orange hues of the setting sun. She stiffens immediately, scanning the lot, no one around and her steps towards her car quicken. The driver’s side door opens, and Rafe steps out, tall and unbothered, his hands in the pockets of his dark jacket, and there’s that stupid smirk playing on his lips. Her heart jumps straight into her throat. “Rafe—” she hisses under her breath, marching toward him with panic in her eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

He lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug, voice low and smooth, “What? I can’t come see you?”

“Not in the staff parking lot,” she snaps in a hushed whisper, “Do you want someone to see you? What if someone from inside walks out—”

“Relax”

He says gently, stepping forward and before she can argue more, his hands are at her hips, warm and familiar, tugging her closer until her body is brushing against his in the narrow space between the cars. The proximity knocks the air from her lungs. Her hands instinctively rest against his chest, palms flat over the material of his t-shirt where she can feel his heartbeat, steady and calm beneath her fingers.

Hers? Not so much.

“There’s no one around...”

He murmurs, head tilted down as he looks at her, his voice softer now, velvety and coaxing and her breath catches. She should push him away. She should tell him this is reckless, stupid, dangerous. But his scent- musky and alluring- clouds her thoughts. And his touch, just the lightest press of fingertips against the small of her back— is so familiar now, so comforting in its own twisted way. And she hates that it’s comforting. Her fingers twitch against his chest. She finally manages a whisper her words stubborn,

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know,” he says, and there’s the smallest hint of a smile in his voice as he leans in just a fraction closer, breath ghosting against her temple.

“But I wanted to be.”

She rolls her eyes with a long, exaggerated sigh, but her lips betray her- tugging upward at the corners, betraying the way he’s already wormed his way into her mood.

“We’re gonna get caught”

She mutters under her breath, glancing toward the dark stretch of the staff lot like someone might materialise from the shadows. The words barely leave her lips, soft and hurried, like they know better than to draw attention. Rafe just smirks, tilting his head down slightly, his chin angling toward her as he closes the few inches left between them.

“Not if you kiss me quick”

He says, voice low and roughened with amusement. Her eyes squint in a playful glare, head pulling back a fraction.

“You’re so annoying.”

But her body leans in all the same.

Her fingers find the soft t-shirt, curling into the fabric without even thinking. She rises onto the balls of her feet, just barely, and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s quick and light—barely a brush. Just a flicker of warmth, like a secret passed between two people in the dark. As she pulls away, his face follows hers- like his lips are trying to chase the kiss she’s already taken back. He doesn’t even think about it, just dips forward slightly, a greedy edge in his movement. She breathes out a small laugh, pushing against his chest with a single finger. “Nope,” she says, her smile widening.

“I'm hungry.”

"Yeah well so am I"

He lets his hands slip from her hips with a groan that’s more for show than anything, head rolling back as he leans against the hood of his car. She just shrugs, the inuendo lost on her ears as she adjusts the bag on her shoulder.

“You’re such a tease Bunny”

He drawls and she snorts, already turning on her heel to head toward the trunk of her car.

“I don’t know what you mean Cameron.”

Her fingers make quick work of the car key, popping the trunk. She grabs the rolled-up apron resting on top her bag and tosses it in alongside her worn-out tote bag, the whole thing collapsing into a pile on top of an old hoodie and a dented water bottle. The sound of the trunk slamming shut echoes across the empty lot. Spinning back around to face him, she crosses her arms and leans her weight into one hip, chin tilted up with that same little smile that drives him crazy.

“You really wanna get caught by one of your little Kook friends out here with me?” she teases, cocking a brow. “Have to explain why you’ve been slumming it with a Pogue?”

His smirk twitches- just a smidge. For the briefest moment, his expression shifts and something softer creeps into it. Something a little more sincere. His gaze lingers on her face longer than it should and then flickers back down to her lips before returning back up again.

“Wouldn’t care if they did”

He says simply, a quiet shrug rolling off his shoulders as if he means it, as if it's the simplest answer in the world. It catches her off guard- freezes her for a beat. Her mouth opens, then closes again but she recovers quick, brushing it off with a scoff and a roll of her eyes.

“You’re so full of shit.”

But even as the words leave her lips, there’s a faint flicker of something else behind her voice- something almost moved. Something she doesn’t want to name because it’s been a few weeks since that night.

A few weeks since she tilted her milkshake to her lips and he wiped the sweet drip from her skin with his thumb like it meant nothing. Since he kissed her like he’d been holding back for months and she melted into it like her body had been waiting on that exact moment to exhale. And since then? It’s been a series of late-night meet ups that feel like a secret thread connecting them. Not the kind that spun in lies—but the kind too delicate to speak aloud. The kind you carry with careful hands and quiet hearts in fear of it snapping. Every night, after her shift ends and the world turns quiet, she finds him waiting. Always parked in the back corner of some parking lot—headlights off, music low and she slips into the passenger seat without a word, throws her bag in the back, kicks off her shoes, and leans over to kiss him like she’s been holding her breath all day.

The kisses are slow at first. Always. A shared pause. But then they tip into something deeper, heavier—like they’re trying to memorise each other without crossing any lines they haven’t drawn out loud- but it never goes further than that. His hands stay respectful, if not reverent- one cupping her jaw, the other braced on the back of her seat or tangled gently on her waist, on her hip, in her hair. Her fingers clutch the hem of his shirt like a tether, holding on but not pulling him in any closer than he already is.

There’s a quiet fire, always simmering, but neither of them dare feed it too much. Neither of them dare ask what they are. It’s easier this way. Safer. They stay pressed into the quiet hum of those car rides, the warmth of shared fries, the heat of stolen kisses in the dark, and the steady, unspoken beat of something they’ve both grown addicted to but don’t yet understand.

Rafe leaned against the top of her car, forearms braced over the roof like he had all the time in the world. The late golden hour sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the near-empty staff lot behind the country club. His eyes squinted slightly from the light, jaw sharp as ever, that casual grin tugging at the corner of his mouth “What’s your hurry today, huh?” he drawled lazily, peering down at her with a teasing glint.

“You extra hungry or what?”

Y/N huffed, already halfway into the driver’s seat of her little beat-up car, one leg in, one out, “No asshole- I just don’t want anyone to spot us, okay?”

Rafe chuckled under his breath, the sound low and unbothered. He shrugged one shoulder and pushed off the car just enough to stretch lazily.

“It’s not a big deal.”

She snapped her head up to look at him, her tone sharper now, “Yeah, actually Rafe—it is a big deal. Because if JJ finds out—”

“I know”

He cut in, dragging a hand over his jaw, irritation flashing in his eyes. “If JJ finds out, he’ll be mad. Whatever. I get it, okay? No need to tell me again.”

The words hung between them for a second, heavier than either wanted them to be. The silence wasn’t angry- but it was tense. The same argument they hadn’t quite had, bubbling beneath their stolen moments. He stood there now by her open car door, his figure blocking some of the sunlight, casting a soft shadow over her where she sat inside the car. From where she was, her eye level landed right at his belt. Her gaze softened a bit, guilt tugging at her gut. Then her hand came up, absent-minded and almost sheepish, her fingers catching on the loop of his jeans. She played with it lightly, tugging once. A peace offering. His eyes flicked down to her hand, then to her face, jaw still tight. She asked quietly, tilting her head up at him with a playful sort of pout, brows lifted just a touch.

“You mad..?”

“No,” he replied, voice low. “Why would I be mad?”

She shrugged, still toying with the denim loop, “I dunno. I thought—” she cut herself off, shaking her head a little, “Doesn’t matter.”

Rafe didn’t press. He let it hang, then gave a soft hum, looking around the lot- empty still, save for their two cars and the rustle of wind through the nearby trees. “So,” he drawled, rocking back slightly on his heels.

“We going to get something to eat or what?”

Y/N brightened a little, grateful for the pivot. “I’m feelingggg…” she stretched the word dramatically, “Chinese?”

He smiled at that slightly, nodding, “Chinese sounds good.”

“Cool,” she said, pulling her legs fully into the car now, “I’ll meet you there then?”

He gave a small nod, “Yeah… yeah.”

But she could tell- by the way he paused before turning away, by the way his fingers twitched at his side- that he was still holding onto a bit of a grudge. He hadn’t gotten his kiss, not a real one. And that wounded pride was showing, even if he tried to hide it behind his nonchalant façade. She rolled her eyes with a soft exhale- who would have thought Rafe Cameron was so needy?

Reaching up, she curled her fingers into the front of his T-shirt, tugging him gently back down toward her, guiding him until he bent slightly, face now level with hers. His breath hitched, eyelashes fluttering as he leaned into her touch. She kissed him then- firm, but warm. Just enough to melt that sulking tension in his brow. His lips moved against hers with a soft hum, his hand bracing on the edge of her door as he leaned in a fraction more, savouring it. When she pulled back, his eyes were still half-lidded, lips parted like he wanted to chase her mouth again.

“You done now, you baby?”

She murmured with a crooked smile, eyes teasing but fond. Rafe’s smirk returned, slow and smug. “Yeah,” he murmured, straightening up,

“I’m done now.”

And with that, he backed away from the car, hands in his jacket pockets like he hadn’t just been melting under her touch. She watched him retreat toward his car, her heart doing that dumb little flutter it always did lately, it lingered in her chest. Just as his door swung open, he looked back over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.

“Don’t forget the egg rolls.”

She rolled her eyes and started her car.

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

The quiet hum of the radio filled the space between them, the soft crackle of music soothing after a long day. They sat there in the dim light of the car, the smell of Chinese food mingling with the fresh evening air that drafted in through the slightly cracked window. Y/N leaned back against the seat, her legs tucked up beneath her as she dug into her takeout container. Rafe sat beside her, elbow propped up on the door, his free hand reaching for his food, the sound of plastic utensils scraping against the containers faint in the otherwise still air. Rafe asked, his voice low as he finally broke the silence, his eyes flicking over to her as he stuffed a piece of chicken in his mouth.

“How was work?”

“It was… okay”

Y/N muttered, chewing before she continued, eyes shifting away from him for a moment, “Had this asshole customer... one of your friends actually.”

“One of my friends? Who?”

Rafe’s brow furrowed, his gaze narrowing slightly in curiosity as he put his food down. Y/N rolled her eyes as she leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, her expression calm despite the frustration in her voice.

“That guy Brett? The one you hang out with sometimes. Total jerk.”

“Why, what did he do?”

Her expression tightened as she recounted the experience, “he kept clicking his fingers in my face like I was some kind of dog, and whenever I went over to his table, he called me ‘waitress’ like I’m not even good to have a name? God he was so patronising.”

“He really did that?”

He asked, disbelief creeping into his tone, jaw clenched. Y/N tilted her head toward him, not missing the change in his expression.

“Yeah, why? You don’t believe me?”

“No” He muttered, his voice hardening a little as he picked up his food again, his hand gripping the chopsticks tighter than necessary.

“I believe you.”

He took a bite, chewing slowly as he fought the frustration that was rising inside him. A small silence settled between them, the only sound the soft clinking of their chopsticks against the takeout containers. Rafe didn’t like that she had to deal with people like that, didn’t like it one bit.

“What’re you doing tomorrow?”

He asked, his voice casual, but something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Y/N turned her head slowly toward him, her expression soft but guarded as she mumbled,

“Working.”

Rafe blinked raising an eyebrow, “It’s Saturday…?”

“Yeah, and?” She shrugged, taking another bite of her food, her voice low and almost dismissive. “I’m broke, Rafe. I’m always working.”

His eyes darkened again as he placed his food down with a soft clink, his fingers tapping against the lid of the container. He wasn’t about to let this go- he hated it, and they both knew it. He took a sip of his drink, the cold liquid hitting his throat like a jolt, but it did nothing to cool the fire that was building in him. He put the cup back in the cup holder with a sigh, his voice quieter but still firm.

“I don’t see why you can’t just take a break. You don’t always have to work.”

“We’re not having this conversation again Rafe.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered over to him, her face hardening slightly as she gave him a pointed look. He frowned, the words heavy in the air.

“Look, I get that maybe you think it’s embarrassing to accept my—”

“If you keep talking about this,” she interrupted, her tone sharper now, “I’m getting out of your car.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, taking in the shift in her expression- the quiet defensiveness there, the exhaustion she was trying to hide. He didn’t want to push her too hard, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. He paused, the weight of her words sinking in, then gave a short, almost defeated nod, like he was choosing to back off of the subject for now. Y/N didn’t say anything in response, her eyes softening as she turned back to her food, the brief tension hanging in the air like smoke. She had already given him her answer. She had already drawn the line before, and Rafe knew he’d have to respect it—for now. The silence that settled between them wasn’t heavy but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. Just... quiet. Their takeout containers were nearly empty now, the scent of soy and spice lingering faintly in the car, blending with the low hum of music still playing in the background. Y/N had reclined her seat a bit, one leg tucked up under the other, the other stretched out, socked foot resting against the dashboard. Her shoes sat forgotten on the floor, and a soft breeze drifted in through the cracked window, brushing gently against her skin.

Rafe glanced over at her, his arm draped over the back of her seat, thumb idly brushing the seam of the leather. She looked content, even if a little tired- hair slightly messy from the day, lashes casting soft shadows across her cheekbones as she stared out at nothing in particular. He liked seeing her like this, unfiltered.

“There’s a party tomorrow night”

He said suddenly, voice quiet but breaking the lull between them. He reached forward, placing his empty cup in the holder before leaning back again, tapping a slow rhythm on his thigh. She turned her head lazily, brows knitting together slightly.

“A party?”

He nodded, “One of the beach houses on Figure Eight. Bunch of people’ll be there.” He paused, then looked over at her, expression unreadable.

“You should come.”

“Me?”

Her head lifted a little more now, blinking at him like she wasn’t sure she’d heard that right. “Yeah.” He gave a slow shrug, feigning casual, but his eyes were locked on hers, watching closely.

“I’m gonna be there...”

“Since when do you want me showing up to a Kook party?”

Y/N sat up slightly in her seat, feet slipping from the dashboard and landing softly on the floor. He smirked lightly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Since now.”

There was a beat of silence, then another. Her gaze searched his face, trying to find the catch—but there wasn’t one. Just Rafe, looking at her like he didn’t care if the whole island had something to say about her. She asked, voice lower now, almost testing him.

“You serious?”

“Yeah- I am.”

He leaned a little closer, one arm still draped along the back of her seat. Y/N pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, watching him, chewing over the offer in her mind. The idea of being in that world with no responsibilities- even just for a night- felt risky. Foreign. But something in the way he was looking at her made it hard to say no.

“I don't know Rafe... I’d stick out like a sore thumb besides people will talk-”

"-people always talk”

He shot back cutting her off slightly, amused as she frowned slightly, arms crossing tighter as she shook her head a little.

“This is different. You know it is.”

Rafe tilted his head thinking deeply, but didn’t press her just yet, “Your friend’s gonna be there,” he said instead, voice smooth as ever.

“My—what? Who?”

“Sofia, right?”

He squinted slightly and Y/N straightened a little, her mouth dropping open at the mention of the girls name.

“Sofia’s going?”

“Yeah.” He was smirking now. “That guy she’s been seeing? The new Kook on the island? He’s the one throwing it.”

“She hasn’t told me that,” Y/N muttered, staring at him.

“Well.” He turned more toward her, resting his elbow against the console and tapping the edge of her thigh with his fingers playfully.

“Looks like you’re not the only one with a dirty little secret.”

She let out a shocked laugh, eyes widening at the words passing his lips before narrowing her gaze at him as she shoved his shoulder back, playful but not gentle,

“You’re such a dick, Cameron.”

He only grinned, letting her shove him- indulging in the feeling of her touch even if momentary. Y/N gave a little scoff and turned away, but her smile lingered. A beat of silence passed over them before she spoke out, “Fine,” she said, like it pained her to admit it.

“I guess I can… think about it.”

“Think about it?” Rafe echoed with mock offense, sitting up straighter, “Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

She didn’t look at him this time, just smirked and reached down to close her container, the sound of clicking plastic filling the car. She then bent over placing it down on the floor, and as she sat back up Rafe leaned in closer again, slower this time, the tip of his nose brushing her jaw before his lips followed. He kissed the curve beneath her ear, then slowly worked his lips down the side of her neck.

"Maybe I can persuade you to come hmm...?"

“You’re such a perv”

She mumbled through a grin, her hand finding his chest and giving him a half-hearted push. He pulled back slightly, lips acting from her skin as he muttered,

“So… still a no?”

“Fine... I’ll come.”

She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile that betrayed her. Rafe sat back accomplished as he spoke out, “Knew you'd give in.”

“But,” she added, wagging a finger at him. “You’re not glued to me all night, okay? Or people will notice.”

“Relax. We’ll keep it lowkey.”

He gave her that cocky, lopsided grin again and before she could snark back another smart-assed comment, he hit the button on the side of his seat. With a low mechanical whir, his chair reclined all the way back, and he stretched out like a king- arms behind his head, t-shirt rising just enough to show a sliver of his toned stomach. Then he patted his thigh, smirking.

“So… where were we?”

Y/N shook her head, heat prickling her cheeks as she shifted toward him again, “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, but her knees were already crawling across the seat.

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

The sun had long dipped below the tree line now, and the soft golden wash of string lights gave the Chateau its usual hazy, warm glow. A lazy summer night settled in with the gentle hum of cicadas in the distance and the low bass of music crackling from the old speaker propped up on a makeshift crate. Everyone was sprawled out in their usual places- Cleo had her legs kicked up on the railing, passing a blunt between her fingers, while Pope leaned back in one of the rickety lawn chairs, letting the smoke curl from his mouth toward the night sky. JJ was stretched across the hammock, shirtless of course, balancing a beer on his chest while making some offhand joke that had Kiara snorting into her drink. John B sat on the edge of the porch, Sarah curled comfortably in his lap, her fingers absentmindedly threading through his messy hair as she hummed along to the music. Then, like she suddenly remembered something juicy, Sarah’s voice piped up.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you guys.”

Everyone’s eyes flicked toward her lazily, half-baked or halfway drunk. JJ raised an eyebrow, already skeptical. “There’s this party tomorrow night. One of the beach houses on Figure Eight — some rich kid’s throwing it. But I got the invite,” she emphasized with a little smirk, twirling a lock of her blonde hair,

“which means you guys can come too!”

There was a collective beat of silence, then came the chaos.

“A kook party?” Pope made a face. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Hard pass”

Kiara chimed in, swirling what was left in her cup. JJ sat up a bit in the hammock, giving Sarah a look of exaggerated offence, “Sarah — my best friend’s dearest girlfriend — why the hell would I willingly put myself in a room full of kooks with their Vineyard Vines shirts and trust funds?”

“Kook fest? I don't think so- rude boy's got a point."

Cleo added, completely unfazed. Sarah groaned dramatically, tossing her head back against John B’s shoulder, “Guys, everyone on the island’s been invited. Literally everyone. You want to miss the one time we can sneak in and drink their expensive-ass booze and pretend to be civilised?”

John B scratched the back of his neck, “I mean… Sare, are you sure this is a good idea? These things usually end in someone getting arrested or beat up.”

“That’s what makes it fun,” she shot back smiling up at him, “Come on, baby...”

JJ shook his head with a mock sigh, “I do love chaos, but I also love not getting decked by some pastel-wearing rich boy with a superiority complex.”

“C’monnn,” Sarah pleaded, eyes bouncing between them all. “Free booze. Loud music. Rich kids being embarrassing. You telling me you wanna miss that?” JJ glanced around, took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like he was warming up to the idea.

“Free booze, huh?”

“Like actually free”

Sarah said, perking up as she nodded her head. Kiara sighed before adding to the ongoing debate. “Okay I guess if we go in a group, it’s not like they can kick us all out.”

Pope laughed, “That’s comforting.”

“So it’s decided then?”

Sarah asked, clapping her hands and JJ leaned back with a smirk.

“Eh why the hell not.

The chatter faded back into that familiar haze- the music a little louder now, the clinking of glass bottles, occasional bursts of laughter echoing under the soft glow of the porch lights. JJ had flopped dramatically back into the hammock, tossing a peanut at Pope, who swatted it away with a sharp “cut that out”, but he was grinning as he said it. Kiara and Cleo were side by side, passing the blunt like it was a baton in the slowest relay race known to man, and Sarah was still curled into John B, nose buried in his neck as she murmured something that made him laugh under his breath. Then the crunch of gravel under tires caught their ears- a car rolling up toward the end of the drive, headlights slicing through the trees. Everyone instinctively turned to look, and when the engine cut and the door swung open, a familiar silhouette stepped out.

“Y/N!”

Sarah called out instantly, lifting her hand in a wave. JJ was already in motion. He practically leapt out of the hammock with a lopsided grin on his face, his movements loose and full of that buzzed joy that lived in him when he was around his people. He jogged toward her, arms wide like he was about to tackle her. Y/N had barely rounded her door when JJ crashed into her, arms circling tight around her waist and lifting her a few inches off the ground in a twirling hug. She let out a breathless laugh, one arm instinctively hooking around his shoulder.

“Jay, are you drunk?”

“Yes ma’am”

He said proudly, nuzzling his nose against her cheek like a sleepy golden retriever. John B called out from the porch, raising his beer in salute.

“And high!”

“Wow what a responsible crowd I’ve joined.”

She looked past JJ and shook her head smiling, JJ grinned and still half-latched to her side laced his fingers between hers and started tugging her toward the group.

“Welcome, my dear sister, to the finest motive on the island.”

“Yeah, it looks so lit”

Y/N snorted as she said dryly, eyeing the half-deflated pool float on the lawn and Kiara using a stick to fish a beer bottle cap out of the fire pit. Pope looked up and offered her a beer, cracking open another one.

“You want?”

“Nah, I’m driving.”

She shook her head, raising a hand politely. JJ was still practically glued to her back, and now his chin came to rest on her shoulder, his head leaning sleepily against hers like gravity had chosen her specifically. She glanced sideways, her voice softening.

“You okay, mister?”

“Right as rain”

He murmured, words muffled against the collar of her white work polo. Y/N smiled to herself and brought one hand up to gently pat his cheek, a small fondness in her eyes. She dropped down onto the worn-out quilt Pope had stretched across the grass, tucking her legs beneath her and setting her keys in a little pile beside the cooler. The smell of bonfire smoke and salty air clung to everything, and the mellow strum of a guitar looped in the background from someone’s Bluetooth speaker. The Chateau felt hazy with summer warmth and low buzzed laughter, like time didn’t really exist here.

“Y'missed blondie trying to backflip off the porch railing”

Cleo said, raising her eyebrows at the girl, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth as she handed her a cold bottle of water. Pope snorted from where he sat beside her,

“More like he tripped, flailed, and then landed face-first into the lawn chair. Truly a work of art.”

“Sounds about right.”

Y/N laughed, tilting her head back slightly as she wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “Y/N!” Sarah suddenly perked up from where she was comfortably curled up on John B’s lap, her legs stretched out across the blanket and her fingers idly threading through his curls.

“I almost forgot to tell you- we’re all going to a party tomorrow night. You have to come”

“Oh—uh…”

Y/N hesitated for a split second. Shit. Rafe had already invited her out tomorrow- there was no way she could show up two places at the same time. She furrowed her brows thinking of a quick excuse, “I don’t think I can,” she said slowly.

“Sofia asked me to cover her shift tomorrow night. Late shift.”

The groans came instantly.

“Noooo” Kiara moaned out in disappointment. “Again?” Cleo frowned as she spoke, “Girl, you’re always working.” JJ leaned up, pulling a dramatic face as he sat up behind her, one hand propped on the ground and the other pointing accusingly.

“Y/N- my sweet, overachieving sister. You never go out.”

“I do go out!”

“When?!” JJ countered, hand waving wildly, “Name one time that we went out that didn’t involve grocery shopping or pretending not to cry while pumping gas for my bike cause you can't afford it.”

“JJ, please,” she groaned, rubbing at her forehead the others watching the small sibling quarrel, “Sofia never gets nights off. I have to fill in for her.”

But even as she said it, her mind was moving. What if I go to Rafe’s first? Just for a bit. Then come late, no one would know, they're on different sides of the island. She knew it was risky but- it was worth the risk if it meant getting her brother off her back. She sighed, trying to keep it casual.

“Where is it anyway... maybe I can stop by before it ends.”

Sarah perked up instantly at the question, “New guy just moved into this insane house on Figure 8- I’m technically on the guest list, so by extension, that means all of you get to come.”

Y/N froze.

Her stomach sank, it’s the same party. Her chest tightened like a fist was forming right behind her ribs. The same one Rafe is going to and now… JJ would be there. All of them would be there. She forced a tight smile, heart beating a little faster and her throat closed up slightly. She can’t go. She can’t risk it—JJ seeing her with Rafe? No. Absolutely not. That would ruin everything. He’d lose it. He’d probably have a fit and if he didn’t, the look in his eyes would be worse. She felt herself retreat inward for a split second- like her body was still sitting there on the blanket, but her mind was miles away, spiralling in panic. Then- she forced it back. Forced her lips into a smile, stretched just wide enough to pass as real. She said, voice smooth,

“I’ll see if I can make it”

“Yeah?”

JJ looked over at her, suspiciously squinting, she nodded without hesitation.

“Maybe just for a bit.”

Even as the lie came out of her mouth, her brain was already racing. Y/N cleared her throat softly, still gripping the now half-empty water bottle in her hand. Her eyes swept across the group lounging lazily on the worn blankets and cushions sprawled out on the overgrown lawn.

“I actually think I’m gonna head back now”

She said, standing up slowly and brushing the bits of grass and twigs from her shorts, “Just came to check up on you guys.”

JJ looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged now on a faded beach towel, lips wrapped around the neck of his beer bottle, and gave her a lazy, crooked smile. He winked, blonde hair a windswept mess.

“Mission accomplished sis.”

She rolled her eyes at him, amusement flickering behind her lashes, and bent to grab her keys from the little crate they’d been using as a table.

“You coming back or staying the night?”

She asked, giving him a look as she nodded toward the house, her tone light but a little pointed the role of big sister coming naturally. Before JJ could even open his mouth to respond, John B was already groaning dramatically from the other side of the blanket. “Take him,” he said, flopping his head back against the tree behind him.

“Please. I don’t want him here. He eats everything and he talks in his sleep.”

Sarah burst into laughter in his lap, her whole body shaking with it as she nearly spilled the beer in her hand. “He really does! The other night he mumbled something about raccoons with spatulas.”

“That was one time!”

JJ threw his hands up like he was being framed for a crime. Y/N just bit back a laugh, fighting back a grin watching the chaos unfold with fondness. JJ tilted his head, smirking toward her. “And just because of that,” he said smug as hell,

“I shall be staying the night here. With Mr. John Booker Routledge.”

A round of exaggerated groans erupted from the rest of the group. Y/N laughed under her breath, her fingers still gripping her keys as she shook her head fondly at them. “Alright, alright,” she said,

“Have fun then... don’t get too smashed.”

“No promises!” Kiara called out with a wide smile, raising her can in salute.

“Speak for yourself,” Pope muttered. “I have dignity unlike some.”

That earned another laugh from the group.

Y/N smiled again, softer this time, eyes briefly flicking back to her brother. He caught her gaze and shot her a lopsided grin, one that still looked more boyish than he probably intended. It made something ache a little in her chest- an affection threaded with worry she’d never admit out loud.

“Night Jay”

She murmured before reaching over to ruffle his hair messily. He smiled her lazily before flopping back onto the blanket like a man who had no thoughts, no responsibilities, and no idea that his sister was walking a tightrope he couldn’t see. Y/N turned, the noise behind her fading into the hum of summer insects and music humming from the portable speaker, and walked back to her car,

The car door creaked softly as Y/N pulled it open, the familiar weight of it grounding her just a little. She slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door behind her with a muted thunk, the quiet inside the car swallowing up the laughter still drifting from the Chateau. The engine wasn’t running yet, and the warm evening air clung to her skin like a second layer. It smelled like sun-warmed leather and pine needles.

For a moment, she just sat there. Her fingers hovered over her bag before she reached in and pulled out her phone, the screen lighting up as soon as her thumb brushed the side. No new messages. Just the same old wallpaper of a blurry sunset and the faint glint of her own reflection staring back. She hesitated and her thumb hovered over the screen for another beat- then tapped into her messages.

Rafe

The name alone made her chest tighten a little. She bit down on her lower lip, chewing at the soft skin absently. Her other hand reached up to pull her hair away from her face, then fell limply against her lap. The inside of the car felt like it was shrinking. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, a sharp whisper into the quiet. She tapped the messages open. Leaning her head back, she let it fall gently against the headrest, eyes blinking up at the roof of the car as she let out a long, tired sigh. Her fingers rested against the phone in her lap, before tapping her fingers against the screen.

She started typing. Hey, change of plans. I might not— Backspace. No. Too vague so she tried again. Something came up— Backspace. Her heart thudded in her chest, slow and heavy. Then she typed with more finality this time:

Bunny : I'm sorry but I can't do tmr

She stared at it. Read it once. Then twice. Then, with a small exhale that she couldn’t quite tell was relief or regret, she hit send. The text shot off into the thread, disappearing into that blue bubble like a stone dropped into deep water. She locked her phone again, let her head fall back against the seat, eyes fluttering closed. Her lips pressed into a line. Maybe that’s for the best, she told herself. Maybe-

Buzz.

Her eyes snapped open. The screen lit up and she unlocked it quickly, thumb tapping into the thread without thinking.

Rafe : what why not

Short and blunt. Her stomach twisted, that anxious little knot curling a bit tighter as her thumbs moved again.

Bunny : Your sister’s going to be there which means JJ’s gonna be there

She sat there, holding her breath like it’d keep her heart from thudding so hard. The typing bubble appeared instantly, three dots bouncing like they knew what they were about to say was going to matter more than it should.

Rafe : so what?

Of course, she thought bitterly, jaw tightening. But before she could respond, another message popped up. She blinked, stunned by how he could sound so calm about something that made her whole chest tighten.

Rafe : Why is that a problem

Bunny : It’s a problem cause he’ll see us

Her fingers tapped harder this time and her hand trembled slightly as she held the phone. She hated this—how tense it made her. How she had to think of all the possible consequences when Rafe didn’t even seem to care.

Rafe : are you serious

Bunny : Yes I’m serious wtf do u mean???

Her reply came before she could even second-guess herself but then… nothing. No bubble, no typing dots and her eyes flicked to the corner of the screen at the bottom. Read. That was it? He read it and then disappeared. A dry laugh escaped her lips, more disbelieving than amused. She pushed her palm against her forehead, trying to will away the creeping frustration crawling beneath her skin.

Rafe : You’re really gonna let your brother control us

Bunny : He’s not controlling us

Rafe : Well he’s controlling this.

Her teeth sunk into her lip again, harder this time as the message made her fingers still. She stared at the words, something bitter blooming behind her ribs. Then she typed, slowly, like the question had been sitting on her tongue for a while- because it had.

Bunny : What is this

Bunny : What even is 'this' Rafe?

Read

The air in the car felt heavy now. Thick with silence and words that would never be spoken aloud. She watched the screen for a beat. Then two. Then five. The beats turned into a minute but still there was no response from him so her fingers moved again of their own accord.

Bunny : seriously

Bunny : Leaving me on read are you being for real

Bunny : Hello?

Still.

No answer.

Her mouth twisted into a scoff, this one sharper. Less disbelief and more hurt. She leaned her head back against the seat, her knuckles white where she clutched the phone. She could feel it bubbling now- not anger, not really. Just… disappointment. That familiar ache that curled into her chest when something started to crack and she knew she couldn’t fix it. Her lips pressed into a thin line and she typed one last time.

Bunny : Grow up Rafe

Then she dropped the phone into the empty cup holder with a soft clack and her hands came up, pressing into her face, covering her eyes. She let out a breath- long and slow and quiet. She didn’t even know what this was anymore, or what she wanted it to be.

All she knew was that it hurt.

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

The bass was thumping hard enough to make the floorboards vibrate. Music roared from massive speakers set up on the back patio of the mansion, spilling into every corner of the sprawling beach house like a pulse. The crowd was thick—Kooks and Pogues alike stood packed shoulder to shoulder, laughing, grinding, shouting over the noise. Red solo cups littered the deck, the grass, the kitchen counters. Half-empty bottles of liquor sat abandoned on tables, the scent of alcohol and sweat clinging to the humid air. Inside, the lighting was low and tinted gold, shadows dancing as bodies moved through the house, more people flooded through the front door- new arrivals, drawn in by the promise of booze and the thrill of recklessness that always hung thick in the air.

Rafe was in the middle of it, standing near the table on the backyard patio where a lineup of liquor bottles had turned into a makeshift bar. His button-down was half undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, collar a little askew. He reached for another shot, his fingers curled tight around the glass rim as he knocked it back, throat bobbing as the burn slid down. “Bro,” Kelce said, squinting as he leaned forward, voice slurred with the edge of tipsy concern.

“I never do this but- maybe slow down a little”

“That’s like, your seventh” Topper added from where he was slouched against the couch, a beer dangling between his fingers.

“You good man?”

“I’m fine”

Rafe muttered, his voice low, gruff, and not even remotely convincing. His jaw flexed as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his damp forehead. He didn’t look at either of them as he spoke but he wasn’t fine. Not even close. His head was heavy, the alcohol catching up to him in a sluggish crawl through his limbs. He could feel it in his slow, unsteady blink. In the weight of his shoulders, in the way the music felt a little too loud, a little too sharp.

She wasn’t here- Y/N wasn’t here.

And he hated that it mattered. Hated that he kept glancing toward the front door every time someone new walked in- just in case she'd changed her mind. Hated that he could hear her voice in the back of his mind. “I can’t go, your sister’s going to be there” ... “JJ will be there” ... “He’ll see us.” His jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, the burn of the liquor lingering in his chest. She was always so damn concerned about JJ, about keeping him in the dark- about keeping them in the dark.

Like this is all some secret she needs to protect.

Topper was saying something again, laughing about a girl he’d hooked up with last weekend, but Rafe didn’t hear it. He was staring at the countertop, where drops of clear liquor beaded on the marble surface. His hand was still fisted around the empty shot glass. He looked like a storm waiting to happen- cheeks a little flushed, eyes shadowed and distant, lip twitching at the corner in a scowl. But under it all, he was sulking. Quietly. Bitterly. Like a kid who didn’t get what he wanted.

And all he wanted was her.

The rumble of the Twinkie pulling up was swallowed by the thump of music echoing off the walls of the massive house. Lights flashing inside spilled through the tall windows in bursts that lit up the manicured lawn and the stretch of cars already jammed up along the curb. The Pogues piled out- John B leading the charge in his usual messy curls with Sarah right on his heels, her blonde hair catching the light like a halo. JJ slammed the passenger door shut with his hip, shoving his hands into the pockets of his loose cargo shorts, eyes flicking over the crowd on the lawn before following- Pope, Kiara and Cleo weren’t far behind.

The house was huge. Open floor plan, high ceilings, the kind of kitchen you only saw on cooking shows. People were everywhere—on the stairs, pressed against walls, spilling onto balconies. It smelled like weed and citrus vodka, and someone in the hallway was definitely already throwing up. “Damn,” John B muttered as they walked in, eyebrows raised.

“This place is nice.”

“No shit”

Pope said, already eyeing the built-in speakers in the ceiling. Cleo let out a low whistle and made a beeline for the massive kitchen island, where liquor bottles and mixers lined the counters like a buffet. She said with a grin, snatching a bottle of rum and starting to pour,

“The free alcohol is even nicer”

“Now this is why I dragged you guys here..’.”

Sarah laughed, reaching over to help herself to a half-mixed drink and Kiara grabbed a couple of plastic cups, handing them around. The music rattled the cabinets, the floor under their shoes vibrating faintly in time with the beat. People were dancing in the next room, someone yelling something about beer pong from the backyard, but the Pogues took a moment to regroup in the kitchen. JJ stood a bit apart from the group, back braced against the counter, swirling whatever was in his cup without really drinking it. His hat was pulled low, hair curling beneath the brim, and there was a little pinch between his brows that hadn’t faded since they arrived. Kiara noticed first. She nudged him gently with her elbow, tilting her head toward him.

“She’s not coming then?”

JJ blinked, not catching the question right away over the music.

“Huh?”

“Y/N- she’s not coming?”

Sarah repeated, louder this time, looking up from her drink. JJ’s expression tightened for a split second, and he looked down into his cup like it suddenly had answers. “Nah,” he said, voice clipped.

“She’s not.”

There was something in the way he said it in a short and flat tone, a little irritated like he didn’t want to care, but he did. Kiara gave a small nod and didn’t press. Instead, she reached out, rubbed his arm gently with her hand before stepping away to help Pope crack open a bottle of something suspiciously blue. No one said anything else. But in the middle of the crowd, under the flashing lights and the pounding bass, JJ stood a little stiller than the rest. Eyes drifting toward the front door they'd came through like maybe- just maybe- she’d still show.

Rafe shoved his way through the backyard, the lights and thumping music cutting through the cool air like a heavy pulse. He could feel the tension in his chest, the tightness that hadn’t loosened since their texts earlier... "What is this"... That question had been eating at him ever since because he didn't know what it was. But that didn't change the fact that his mind kept circling back to her. The way she made him feel, how easy it was to talk to her, how easy it was to just be around her- it wasn’t like anything he'd ever experienced. And it scared him. Because he wasn’t the kind of guy to get tangled up in feelings, he didn’t do that. But Y/N, she was different- it unsettled him. He couldn’t admit that to her, though. Couldn’t let her know that she was getting under his skin, into his bloodstream like a drug, that she was getting too close.

By the time he made it through the crowd and into the kitchen, he was ready for another drink, maybe more than one. The sound of glass bottles clinking and people chatting loudly barely registered in his mind as he reached the counter, eyes scanning the chaos for what he needed. He was almost there, his hand reaching for the first bottle of vodka, when he collided with someone.

Thud

He didn’t even flinch, just kept moving forward until he heard a sharp, annoyed voice.

“Excuse me?”

Rafe’s shoulder had shoved into Sarah, causing her to stumble back just a little. She glared up at him, her eyes narrowing with irritation. He didn’t care and he certainly wasn’t in the mood for small talk with her.

“You’re excused”

He muttered back, not even bothering to meet her eyes as he grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap off.

“Asshole”

Sarah muttered under her breath, clearly unamused, but Rafe wasn’t listening. He poured the liquor into his cup with a steady hand, watching the clear liquid slosh into the glass. The burn in his throat might’ve been the only thing that could numb the frustration gnawing at him. He downed it in one go, feeling it course through his body. Rafe stood near the edge of the kitchen, the alcohol still burning in his stomach as he surveyed the crowd. The noise was becoming a dull roar in the background, a blur of laughter and shouting, but his mind was still running on autopilot. He tried to focus on his drink, twisting the glass in his hand, but then something caught his ear.

He was talking to John B, and it didn’t take long for Rafe to hear the frustration in his voice. JJ’s words carried across the room, loud enough for Rafe to pick up on.

“I don’t get it bro”

JJ was saying, his voice edged with something close to bitterness already lightly slurred from the alcohol he consumed since they arrived, “Y/N’s always working. Always dude. It’s like- I literally got a job so she could work less? And she still can’t make time for anything. Not for me. Not for us. She's always got some lame ass excuse.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened at the sound of JJ’s voice, and he instinctively stepped closer to the conversation, the growing frustration in his chest gnawing at him. He watched as JJ’s face twisted, anger bubbling up in his expression.

“She’s never around anymore. Like, she’s always somewhere else, doing something else. It’s like she doesn't care- You know what? Maybe it’s just me she doesn’t want to spend time with maybe I’m just a fucking inconvenience to her.”

John B shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable, but he didn’t know how to respond. He just nodded slowly, not really agreeing or disagreeing as he brought his beer bottle to his lips. Rafe’s pulse spiked. His chest felt tight, and for a moment, the room seemed to narrow around him. His fingers tightened around the glass until his knuckles went white.

He was angry.

No, he was beyond angry.

He could feel the heat rising in his body, but it wasn’t just because of JJ’s words. It was the way he was talking about Y/N, so dismissively, so coldly. The kitchen was still a chaotic blend of chatter and clinking glass, the music vibrating through the floor, and the air thick with alcohol. But his mind wasn’t on the drink anymore. It was on her—on Y/N. On the way she would slave away all day in her shitty job only to go home to a brother who wasn't even grateful? He could hear JJ’s voice cutting through the noise of the house, loud and full of venom. Rafe turned, just in time to catch the words.

“Acting like she’s such a good fuckin’ sister,” JJ spat, his words as he gestured around. “When she can’t even take the time out of her day to talk to me. It’s a fuckin’ jok, man..”

John B was still next to him, leaning against the counter, his eyes tired, clearly not wanting to get involved in the growing tension. But he let out a soft sigh and said,

“Come on, man. You’re being a little harsh she does a lot for you-”

“-No. I’m not,”

But JJ wasn’t having it. His face twisted into a mix of frustration and bitterness. “She doesn't give a damn about anyone but herself," he snapped, his voice louder now.

"She’s a shitty fuckin’ sister.”

Rafe could feel the anger bubbling up in his chest. He was barely holding it together at this point. His hand clenched around his glass, and without thinking, he pushed himself away from where he was and made his way towards the blonde haired pogue,“Hey-” Rafe’s voice was rough, his jaw tightening,

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

JJ didn’t even hesitate as his brow furrowed, his head snapping toward Rafe, his eyes narrowing. The smirk on his face was all cocky arrogance, like he wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Rafe stood in front of JJ, his fists clenched so tightly around the edge of the counter that his knuckles were turning white. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the alcohol in his system only amplifying the frustration that had been simmering for hours.

"You really think you know your sister?"

Rafe's voice cut through the tension like a blade, each word laced with disbelief and a deepening anger. His gaze was intense, narrowing as he stared down at JJ, his stance aggressive and unsteady from the booze. JJ didn’t flinch, instead, he scoffed, the sound dripping with disdain.

“Yeah, well, what the fuck do you know about her?”

The words were laced with spite, his eyes flashing as he shot back, barely holding back his irritation. He was drunk, way too much to back down. The space between them was closing, both of them leaning in slightly, their bodies tense as if they were about to collide. Rafe’s jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line as his eyes flickered between JJ’s face and the rest of the room. John B was already sighing, rubbing his hand over his face, clearly feeling the impending collision. His tone was a little exasperated.

“Alright, guys... let's not do this tonight.”

But his words were barely a whisper in the whirlwind of tension between JJ and Rafe. They didn't take their eyes off each other. Rafe stood his ground, every inch of his body radiating the anger and frustration he’d been holding back all night. His expression twisted into something cold, nasty, as his voice came out low, almost a growl.

"A lot more than you"

He spat, the words dripping with contempt. JJ’s eyes flared with fury, and before anyone fully processed the insult, his body reacted. Without thinking, he shoved Rafe, a rough, sudden motion that sent the air between them crackling.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

His words were sharp, cutting through the already tense atmosphere like a knife. The crowd around them seemed to gather and the only thing that mattered now seemed to be this confrontation, the two of them standing face to face, inches away from an explosion. Rafe’s jaw clenched, his teeth gritting as he stumbled back just a half-step from the shove. But he didn’t let it slide, his eyes burned with rage, and with a brutal shove of his own, he sent JJ stumbling back.

“Get off me, you dirty fucking pogue”

He snarled, his voice a low rasp. John B and Pope, sensing the situation spiraling, rushed in to intervene, but their voices only seemed to intensify the already-fueled fire.

“Hey, hey—alright JJ stop."

“C’mon man”

John B called out, his tone a mix of frustration and concern, his hand on JJ’s arm trying to pull him back. But JJ, his face red with anger, ignored them, shoving them off as if they were nothing. His eyes were locked on Rafe, his fists trembling with barely contained rage. Sarah, standing nearby, caught sight of the escalating tension and turned to Rafe with an incredulous expression.

“What is your problem?”

She spoke out her voice sharp as he brows drew down into a concerned frown, but Rafe didn’t even glance at her. His attention was fully on JJ, the hate between them palpable. The room seemed to hold its breath, the entire kitchen watching in stunned interest as the two guys stood their postures defiant, aggressive. JJ, unable to take the weight of the situation anymore, spun on his heel and began to turn away, his anger boiling over, his fists still clenched with popes hand on his arm leading him away. But Rafe’s voice, cutting through the tense silence, sliced through the air like a final verdict.

“I pity her for having a brother like you”

He said, the words slow and deliberate, aimed to sting. The room went deathly quiet apart from a few low mutters, and for a split second and the words hung in the air like a curse. JJ froze, his back to Rafe, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. His body went rigid, the hurt flashing in his eyes as he clenched his jaw tighter. Kiara’s voice came through softly, but it was too late.

“JJ don’t”

She pleaded, but JJ had already turned and with a motion of pure, unfiltered anger, he threw a punch, his fist flying straight at Rafe’s face with all the pent-up rage he’d been holding back. The force behind it was hard enough to knock Rafe off balance, and in that moment, the air around them seemed to explode. Everything that had been building up, the tension, the anger, the frustration- finally came to a head.

And just like that, the fight erupted.

The air was thick with the sounds of punches landing, grunts of pain, and the occasional slap of skin against skin. People's previous murmuring had turned to excited yells and cheers, phones being raised as they recorded the ordeal. JJ’s vision was red, every inch of his body screamed as he threw wild punches, each one landing with force, but Rafe was no slouch- he met every hit with a violent shove or a retaliatory strike of his own. JJ's jaw was clenched tight as he pushed against Rafe, throwing a punch that caught him square in the ribs, causing the other man to grunt in pain. Rafe staggered but didn’t fall, instead grabbing JJ’s shirt and yanking him forward with a growl. Their faces were inches apart, both of them breathing heavily, sweat and blood mixing, the scent of alcohol clouding the air. Rafe’s eyes were wild, his face contorted with anger as he bit out the words through gritted teeth, each syllable harsh and slurred.

“If you love your sister so much, why is she always running to me when she’s got problems, huh?”

His grip tightened on JJ’s shirt, pulling him in closer, their faces just inches from one another. His words were cold, bitter. JJ blinked, his mind struggling to process what Rafe just said. His nostrils flared as his nose dripped blood, a line of crimson streaking down his face. JJ’s voice was a low growl, disoriented, the anger still there but replaced by confusion.

“What?”

“That’s what I thought”

Rafe sneered, a harsh laugh falling from his lips, his bloodshot eyes alight with a murderous glint. JJ’s fury surged again, his face lit with rage as his eyes narrowed, locking onto Rafe’s smug expression. Without warning, he launched himself forward, his head connecting with Rafe’s face in a brutal headbutt. The impact was sickening- Rafe’s head snapped back violently, and a grunt escaped him. He staggered back a step, dazed, blood oozing from his busted lip.

Rafe didn’t back down, he shoved JJ with both hands, sending him stumbling back a few steps. The two of them were back at it in an instant, their bodies crashing together, fists flying in every direction. JJ’s elbow connected with Rafe’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Rafe faltered this time, falling backward, his balance compromised. He hit the ground hard, the floor beneath him rattling. For a split second, the fight paused. Rafe lay there, stunned, his chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to catch his breath. But JJ was already on him, a feral grunt escaping his throat as he scrambled to pin Rafe down. He grabbed Rafe’s polo top, yanking him up to his face, his grip like iron. His chest was heaving, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged gasps as he leaned in close, his face twisted in disgust.

“Don’t fucking talk about my sister like you know her- you don't know anything about her- you don't know her like I do.”

JJ snarled, his voice low and seething. His words were laced with every ounce of hurt, frustration, and protective anger he could muster. Rafe’s head lolled back for a moment, his eyes glazed and unfocused from the blows. He let out a drunken, mocking scoff, a bitter chuckle escaping from his busted lips. His mouth was smeared with blood, but the sneer on his face was unmistakable, even through the haze of intoxication. He muttered so only the blonde boy could hear, the words sharp, but somehow quieter than before.

“You didn’t even know she was pregnant”

The entire world seemed to stop in that instant.

JJ's grip slackened, his fingers loosening around Rafe’s shirt and his chest tightened as the words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him in an instant. John B and Pope, who had been trying to pull the two apart for the last few moments, finally managed to tear JJ off Rafe. JJ didn’t resist this time, his body felt stiff like stone, his mind struggling to catch up with what he just heard. Rafe lay on the floor, barely able to lift his head, but his voice, now quieter and almost hollow, drifted through the space between them. “Yeah,” he said, his words slow and deliberate,

“She didn’t tell you, JJ. She came to me.”

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yueichihara · 2 months ago

Text

A date with Mephisto

Our little pretty crow was feeling down for being left behind on Sylus' birthday! So I thought about taking him out for a date.

cw: major fluff | yearning looks | Sylus x MC |

word count: 1,656 words

“I’m pretty sure there’s no need for this.”

You don’t need to turn around to know Sylus is still lingering behind you, his arms crossed and one brow arched as he shaked his head. “I am sure I need to do this.”

It had been about a week and a half since Sylus’ birthday, and Mephisto had yet to forgive you both for leaving him behind. Again. This wasn’t the first time you two went on a date alone, but it seemed to have been something he had been expecting to be allowed to tag along to. According to Sylus, he’d been pouting since that day, following instructions but refusing to get closer to you like he always did. You’d tried luring him out with snacks and shiny things, but he’d only let out a noise that resembled a snort and turned his head away.

You’d come to the conclusion that there was just one option left: a date with him. Of course, it wouldn’t be something you’d usually do with Sylus, but you needed to get his trust back. Both of you. So you’d go with this: Mephisto and you would go on a date, visit a few places, go for dinner by the beach, and Sylus would stay. Mephisto had cawed with an eager flap of his wings when you’d presented him with the idea, turning to look at Sylus with a smug glint in his eye, earning a glare from his boss.

You were currently in Sylus’ garage, looking for a bike to use as tonight's vehicle. Sylus had not been pleased with the idea, immediately refusing to stay behind and let you two go out alone. He’d only backed down when you’d teased him about Mephisto being more charming than him and taking you away. He’d laughed mockingly and closed the distance, lifting your chin with one finger as he leaned down. His voice was low, almost a whisper “Sweetie, I don’t think anyone else is ever gonna be able to satisfy your desires.” and then he’d kissed your cheek, his lips lingering more than necessary, before pulling away.

Now you turned to him and couldn’t help but snort, all that sass had suddenly turned into some kind of uneasiness, trailing behind you and still trying to dissuade you from going.

Narrowing his eyes, he walks closer “Care to share the reason for your good humour?”

Not letting him have his way, you walk away from him towards the bike that had caught your eye, acting unimpressed at his attempt to corner you. “My humour is good because I get to have a date with the most interesting character in the N109 Zone.” You take your helmet that had been hanging from your elbow and put it on as you settle yourself over the motorbike. You’d agreed to drive to the entrance of the base and get Mephisto from there. The garage’s door opens in the distance. “I am the ruler of this place and you find him more interesting?”

Smiling at him, you put your visor down and start the bike, making the engine roar to life. “It’s because you rule over this place that you’re not, mafia boss.” You don’t let him react to your teasing before driving away.

Mephisto lands on your shoulder as you take off the helmet, leaving the bike parked near the beach. There was a gathering of people in the distance, a band playing indie music was giving a free concert at the fair according to your research. It was a warm summer night, you’d worn a light dress and shorts beneath it for the ride, your make up matching the pink of your dress. It didn’t matter that it was Mephisto, you wanted to give a good impression to your date companion.

You wandered in between stalls, looking and enjoying yourself, talking to Mephisto about trivial stuff, him cawing in response every now and then. He nipped at your neck when you passed in front of one specific stall, filled with handmade jewelry and exquisite sea themed gems.

“Oh those are so pretty, Mephi!” You exclaimed, leaning closer to get a better view. “Tell me which one you want, I’ll get it for you.” Beaming with energy, he nuzzles against the side of your face before jumping on the table. “Careful!” You send an apologetic smile to the vendor.

“Oh don’t worry, I can see your buddy is eager to get something nice. Here,” He says, offering a box that was stashed away “these are the ones I save for people who have a good eye.”

Mephisto peeks into the box and uses his beak to rummage inside, looking for something that might catch his eye. You see movement from the corner of your eye a few stalls away, but when you start to turn towards it Mephisto caws at you, signaling that he’s made his mind and grabs the gem with his beak. You help him choose a matching chain before paying and heading towards the restaurant you’d made the reservation at. Wind was starting to rise this close to the sea, and you make it a point to dress better next time you came regardless of the season. You rub your arms as you curse at yourself for leaving your jacket inside the bike’s compartment.

Mephisto looks at you curiously and you smile at him, changing the topic. Announcing yourself at the door, the staff guides you to one of the outdoor tables where the view of the sea was stunning. The lights from the boats drifting in the distance contrasted with the darkness of the water, the stars shimmering in the midnight sky. Some of the other customers looked at you weirdly but you paid it no mind in favour of enjoying your company.

One of the waitresses brings over the menu, looking at Mephisto with curiosity but saying nothing about it. You’d obviously mentioned your companion for the night when making the reservation, and the staff had been kind and open about it. A sudden cold breeze makes you shiver, wondering if it would be worth it to change this beautiful scenery for a table indoors. But as soon as you see Mephisto watching the waves and the reflection of the stars in the water, as if they were pearls drifting away, you decide not to.

The smile vanishes from your lips the moment you feel a touch on your neck, your body tensing and readying for battle. Mephisto looks over and tilts his head, his eyes gleaming.

“Aaand… you’re dead, sweetie.” With an irritated sigh, your body relaxes as you turn to look at Sylus, his expression relaxed, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “You shouldn’t get your guard down just because you’re having fun.” He puts a jacket over your shoulders -your jacket-, before sitting before you on the empty chair.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, but your words lack curiosity or bite, already knowing he’d been tailing you since a while ago.

He points to Mephisto with the tip of his chin “You should ask him that, he’s the one who called me over, kitten.”

Your eyes narrow on Mephisto and you playfully pinch his beak, your eyes then softening as you proceed to pat his head. “If you wanted us both to come, you should have said so, Meph.”

“Caw” He flaps his wings and motions to Sylus and you with his beak. “Caw”

You laugh looking over at Sylus, his gaze warm as he watches the two of you. Your eyes meet and you stay like that for a while before Mephisto nudges your hand.

“Caw” He says and points to your purse.

“Right! You want to give it to him now?” Reaching inside, you take out the necklace with the gem you’d bought before. “Here.” He grabs it with his beak and jumps over to Sylus. “What is it?” Sylus says, trying to sound annoyed but failing completely. “Oh. Is it for me?”

“Caw” You see as Sylus’ gaze softens surprisingly more as he takes the necklace offered from Mephisto’s beak, with a gentleness that leaves your heart aching.

“You should have seen the glint in his eye while he rummaged through the gems. He found something that goes with your aesthetic.” You lean your elbow over the table, your chin on your hand as you watch Sylus examine the gift. It is a deep red translucent gem, shaped like a natural heart. A delicate golden metal thread framed it, as if it were veins. The golden chain you’d chosen matched it perfectly.

“Thanks.” Sylus says looking at Mephisto, patting his head. “You, too.” He smiles at you and you grin at him. The sea’s icy breeze disappears as your dinner unfolds, lighthearted chat and laughs filling the space around you.

When dinner’s over, the three of you head over to the shore, few people around now that the stalls have started closing down for the night. Sylus holds your sneakers with one hand, the other firmly clasped in yours, fingers intertwined. You feel the sand between your fingers, still warm from the afternoon’s sun. Mephisto suddenly flies overhead, perching on a rock further away, giving you both space. You feel Sylus’ thumb softly stroking the back of your hand before he speaks.

“I initially refused, you know.” You look at him, knowing he’s referring to Mephisto’s invitation. He lifts your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss. As he puts it down again he looks back at you. “But he told me I shouldn’t be missing out on how beautiful your smile looked today.”

Your heart fills with warmth as you look over at Mephisto, his eyes locked on the moon. Looking back at Sylus, you say, a wide smile tugging at your lips “See? He is the most interesting character in the N109 Zone.”

#love and deepspace #lads #lads sylus #sylus #mc x sylus #qin che #sylus | qin che #sylus qin che #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus lads #mephisto #lads mephisto #sylus x mc #sylus love and deepspace #sylus qin

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pbpressure · 3 months ago

Text

the hat stays on | p.b

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: smut, a lick of fluff, fingering, reader gets some really good head, overstimulation, dom!paige, sub!reader, degradation (reader absolutely has a humilitation kink), praise, spanking, spit, strap sex + riding, and there's some tears but it hardly counts as crying, i think that's all...let me know if i missed anything!

wc: 4k-ish

summary: to see paige being celebrated for all that she's accomplished this season sends your emotions into a frenzy. but there's one thing you can't seem to shake...the hat she's given to celebrate that final four ticket punch. and how badly you want her to bend you over while she's wearing it.

author's note: my april fools prank is that i’m posting this after saying i was gonna disappear! i was just waiting for this season's version of post elite 8 paige and obviously we know the impact of her in a hat. here’s something to hold you guys (and myself) over for now, managed to put this together literally within a few hours and did my best to proofread but forgive me if anything slipped!

as always feedback is appreciated <3

enjoy! x

if there was ever a time to be ravenous, realistically it wasn’t now. but you couldn’t help it.

after paige and the team punched their ticket to the final four, the way that the crowd erupted was electric. the confetti, the speeches, the hugs, the tears. it was monumental. but as emotional of a moment it had been, you could only focus on one thing.

paige in that stupid hat.

her entire demeanor changed when it hit the top of her head. as usual she was all jokes, but there was no denying that you were yearning to be beneath her just as she was right now.

you’d stood back and waited for what felt like hours.

interviews, pictures, congratulations from friends and family. it rightfully couldn’t wait, so that meant you had to.

but when paige is finally done and she locks eyes with you from across the hall you feel like you’re the only two around.

walking over as calm as you can manage to avoid looking dramatic, you immediately are engulfed in her arms. she lifts you from the ground momentarily and spins around, not missing the way you giggle, chanting “you did it!” with the gummiest smile imaginable on your face.

“babe, oh my god i’m so proud of you!” you squeak from excitement, still partially buried in her chest.

she kisses the top of your head, pulling you back from her body so she could get a good look at you.

“thank you for coming, baby, it means the world to have you here right now.”

“you know i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

when you finish your sentence, voice low and filled with admiration, you watch paige’s gaze soften even more.

then she’s bending down to place a kiss on your lips.

it’s gentle, sweet, and when you both pull apart you can’t help but smile again. feeling the love radiate off of her.

but then you look up beyond her eyes, immediately catching sight of the reason you’d been so eager to sit and watch her do media for an hour.

“it’s the hat, huh?” paige breaks your thought, raising her eyebrows all too knowingly.

you nod, licking your lips unintentionally and smirking when you watch her eyes flutter downwards and then back up.

“you like?” she asks again, voice dripping with pride.

“oh, you have no idea.” you grumble, rolling your eyes playfully and lowering your hands to her hips.

but she knew exactly what she was doing.

paige can feel you squeeze her slightly, signaling that there was more desperation behind you’d said.

you stand up on your toes, getting as close to her ear as you can before she meets you halfway. covering your mouth with a single hand, the next few words to leave your mouth aren’t a shock at all.

“i want you to fuck me in it. i need you to.”

and before you can return to your true height, paige is the one grabbing your hips now, holding you so you remain close and it’s her leaning towards your ear this time.

“then when i get home, you better be laid out and waiting.”

your eyes go wide, not having expected that to be her response. but you compose yourself, pulling away from her completely and nodding. you squeeze her hand out of habit before turning and getting out of the arena as fast as possible.

you knew you’d have plenty of time to get back before she did, but you were rushing for your own sake.

you’re not sure how much time passes, but as soon as you shut the door behind you you’re already shedding layers of clothing.

stopping when you’re just in your bra and panties you lay on the bed, the air in the room biting at your exposed skin.

you stare at the ceiling for god knows how long before you hear the door once again being unlocked, then it opens and closes.

the sound of paige’s footsteps made you swallow hard, the anticipation eating away at you.

when she enters the room you almost don’t want to lift your head to look at her, but you have to and you’re glad you do.

her skin is still flushed, she’s wearing the same shirt, just with sweats instead of her uniform shorts. the sweats hang low on her hips and you know that if she raises her arms just slightly your eyes will be met with the waistband of her underwear.

and of course the hat stayed on. she essentially promised you that it would.

you press your thighs together unknowingly, trying to relieve the pulsing between them. but she’s not pleased with that, crossing the room in just a few strides until she’s stood in front of you.

with a strong hand she smacks at your knee before placing the same hand between them and pushing outwards until your legs fall open again.

“i wish you could see yourself right now,” she utters, chuckling. “legs spread, pussy begging to get fucked. it’s a little pathetic.”

you don’t say anything back, but you whine and reach your hand out for her. that’s smacked away too.

“use your words, c’mon.”

“paige, please? i waited all night, i even laid here like you asked.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but it sounds distraught enough.

the same hand that had just swatted yours away is now tracing up and down your right leg. her touch is feather light, you feel goosebumps raising to the surface of each spot she grazes.

up and down your knee, the outside of your thigh. up your hip back down and then towards your cunt that was sopping wet without a doubt. she ignores that though, trailing her fingers up and down the inside of your thigh now.

you’re panting, try not to make too much noise. but also growing extremely impatient.

“i’ll tell you what,” paige blurts out, pausing her hand as well. “let’s see how long you can go without tappin’ out. i’ll decide when and IF you get to take my dick tonight.”

you whimper, already thinking about the various ways you wanted to protest. but she doesn’t even let you begin.

“or i could leave you here like this? go celebrate with my teammates and let you figure out how you’re gonna cum.”

“no! please, do something.” you beg, leaning up even further on your elbows.

paige bends down until her nose is kissing yours, you can feel her breath mingling with your own jagged ones.

“you’re begging already? this sound be fun.” she says, the grin on her lips as arrogant as ever.

you don’t get much time to gather yourself again before she’s on her knees in front of you. she wasted no time hooking her fingers into your panties and pulling them down your legs.

when your bare cunt is exposed you get the urge to shut your legs, but the thought is long gone when you hear paige hiss below you.

“you’re this wet already and i haven’t even done anything. i must really get you hot, hmm?” she laughs. it almost enrages you but then you’re reminded of your current position.

“i’ve only ever gotten this wet for you.”

your voice is shaky, but she can hear you loud and clear.

“i know.”

she wraps her arms around your thighs completely, pulling you closer. then her mouth is on you in a heartbeat.

“shit! p-paige slow down,” you don’t even believe those words leave your mouth. but after waiting so long, you think you’ve got a good three minutes in you before you cum. “FUCK!”

she says nothing, tongue messy and fast between your folds. the sounds that quickly fall onto your ears only adding to the way she was doing a number on you.

you feel a gush of wetness leak from you and paige groans against your clit, tongue quick to lap it up.

you’re a mess, you try your best to compose yourself but it’s no use.

“p, you’re so good! fuck, d-don’t stop.”

she had no plans to stop, but when you beg her not to she is certain that she won’t give up until her jaw is on fire.

you crane your neck to sneak a peek at her and you choke on a moan.

the only thing you can see is her head slightly bobbing.

of course covered by her hat.

you reach down, hands looking to grip onto something the best they can manage. you’ve got one hand cradling the side of her head and the other on top of it.

“just like that baby, i’m so close!” you yelp, head falling backwards into the mattress once more.

“i know.” she says for the second time tonight. except this time to emphasize she pulls back completely, taking a breath and forcibly ejecting a wad of spit from between her lips. it falls in a hot glob onto your clit and you think your heart stops for a moment.

you gasp, back arching off the bed completely.

“oh my god! paige–“ you mewl, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head that you swear you’re unconscious for a split second.

the lewdness of the act is what pushes you over the edge. you cum, so much that you should probably be embarrassed. but you couldn’t even blame yourself.

paige was meant to eat pussy. she knew how good she was at it too, never missing the opportunity to get between your legs.

you feel a slight sheen of sweat covering your entire body and your toes curl, your body trembling slightly. static in your limbs.

when paige doesn’t pull away you cry out, trying to pry her head away from you. this earns you another smack on your thigh.

she pulls away, lips glistening and the remnants of your first orgasm all over her chin.

“already? you’re done?” she asks, out of breath herself, and her eyes blown out now.

“n-no i just need a second.”

“that’s not what the deal was. don’t push me away again unless you really want me to stop. because i will.” she pants, her head lowering again.

opting to say nothing and save yourself you’re biting your lip so hard that you’re sure it’ll draw blood.

paige begins lapping at your cunt again, intending to leave nothing behind. you feel her using two of her fingers to part your folds, ensuring that the tip of her tongue would reach every inch of you.

those same fingers circle your hole teasingly, only to slip in with ease.

your throat burns from how vocal you’ve already been, but that doesn’t stop you from whimpering when you feel paige’s digits knuckle deep in you.

“you’re so deep baby, fuck! j-just like that i–“ whatever else you were gonna say dies on the tip of your tongue when paige curls her fingers upwards.

without pulling her fingers from you she rises from her knees slightly, wanting to watch you come undone for a second time.

“i think i know this pussy better than you do, what do you think?” paige asks, groaning at the end of her sentence when she feels how you clench around her fingers.

“yes! yes, yes, yes!” that’s the only thing you can come up with, her fingers are jamming against that spongy spot inside you over and over. you can’t think.

“give me one more, i know you can.” she demands, not at all considering that you’d deny her that.

you open your eyes for a split second and immediately close them when you see her already looking right back at you.

“i-i can’t p! please.” you plead, already sure that your second orgasm was seconds away.

“take it.”

and you do, almost knocking her over with the way your lower body starts to thrash around.

thankfully she’s grounded, and much stronger than you. when she catches herself she had to hold you down until your orgasm started to subside.

in the midst of finishing you have no idea what you’re saying but it doesn’t matter, paige knows she’s doing everything just right.

she slips her fingers out of you and watches your cunt intently and it contracts around nothing at all.

she can feel how wet she is herself and realizes that as much as she’s enjoying watching you fall apart, she needs to hurry up and fuck you because she had half a mind to cum in her pants.

noticing how your breathing starts to return to normal, she’s quick to leave the bed.

you feel her get up, but you don’t question it. opening your eyes and blinking to adjust to the light in the room. failing to realize just how spent you were, tears blur your vision. you don’t even remember crying.

but when your eyes land on paige approaching the bed again, you easily spot the addition that she’s carrying.

her strap.

your stomach is hot once again, and you do your best to avoid eye contact. but it doesn’t matter because she’s quick to grab you by your chin forcing you to look at her.

“we’re not done, and i know you can. so i don’t wanna hear it.”

not trusting any real words to leave your mouth if you had opened it, you gulp. pleading to the girl in front of you with just your eyes.

she’s standing at full height over your body, the silicone hanging on her hips. you feel yourself getting antsy, itching to satisfy her in whatever way you could.

you ignore your limbs screaming in exhaustion and struggle to kneel in front of her. you sit there for a second, staring. again stuck on how annoyingly good she looked in that damn hat.

“well?” she urges, clearly growing impatient with you. “it’s not gonna suck itself.”

you take her in your hand, now angled towards your parted lips.

it’s heavy when it hits your tongue and you moan at the familiar feeling, the vibrations traveling straight to paige’s clit.

gradually taking inch by inch into your mouth you don’t stop until you’re gagging, your nose meets the base of the harness. paige’s hand is in your hair, assisting you in bobbing your head up and down her cock just the way she liked it.

she lets out the occasional sigh of satisfaction, cooing at the way you look up at her with tears in your eyes. she thrusts forward until the tip hits the back of your throat.

more tears.

“you look so pretty like this.” she confesses, the hand in your hair moving to cradle your cheek. but she thrusts into your mouth again, throwing her head back at the gurgling sound that leaves you.

forcing you to pull off of her with a pop she guides you to sit on your knees fully before nodding her head and singling for you to turn over.

a small puff of air leaves your lips when you’re flush against the mattress in the new position and you don’t even need her to ask you anything else before you’re rising onto your hands and knees, back arched.

“good girl.” she hisses, her hand coming down hard on your ass cheek.

you gasp, body jolting at the contact. but you can’t help the way you wait for another one. getting off on the sting as long as paige was the one inflicting it.

she’s leaning over your body until her front is pressed against your back and her mouth is right next to your ear.

“i know you like this shit, that’s the only reason why i do it.” she starts, spanking you again before she keeps talking. “i love you enough to fuck you like i hate you.” she kisses your neck. it’s hot, wet. and when she pulls away you already miss the feeling of her lips there.

you whine, pressing your hips back to grind against her. this earns you one final spank, and she laughs this time when your body jerks forward.

when the tip of her is prodding at you, your mouth waters at the familiar feeling.

you choke on a sob when she thrusts forward once, immediately bottoming out. your two previous orgasms made the intrusion painless.

she only pulls back and forces her hips forward twice before her pace picks up, and you have to fight to hold yourself up.

“swallowing this shit whole, damn.”

“i-it feels so good, p! fuck– you’re perfect.” you ramble, just caught up in how deep you could feel her.

“maybe i should take a picture, so you can look back at it later?”

you moan, almost nodding too. not even sure what you could’ve possibly said in response.

“yeah? you like that? need you to remember just how good i fuck you, since you were begging for it so bad.”

her hands are on your hips for leverage and now she’s plowing into you. you feel your tits beneath you with each strike of her hips on your rear.

paige is holding out, but barely. the end of the toy that’s inside of her is the relief she finally needed. each time her hips meet yours her clit throbs a little more.

when you hear how she’s struggling to hold in her own noises you look over your shoulder.

“like what you see?” she pants, words punctuated with a thrust.

“p-paige, i don’t know how much longer i–.” you basically plead, reaching down to fondle your clit with trembling fingers.

“doesn’t matter. take it.”

your head lulls forward, and you almost topple over at the force in which she was fucking you.

when she angles her hips slightly you have to claw at the sheets attempting to pull yourself together. the moan that leaves your mouth is pornographic.

you’re a babbling mess, begging to cum and shaking your head from side to side, knowing it was zero use.

you didn’t want her to stop, so she wasn’t going to.

“am i fucking you dumb, baby?” she groans, throwing her head back when she notices you reaching down to play with your clit.

she can’t tell if you’re nodding or if she’s just fucking you that hard and you can’t stop your head from bobbling, but she loves it.

“i know you’re almost there, c'mon. give it to me.” she says, close enough to the edge herself.

and you don’t need her to say much else before your head is buried into the mattress and you’re crying out for her like she’s not right behind you.

a puddle of spit grows beneath you due to the fact that you can’t keep your mouth closed.

her thrusts slow but they don’t still, and at this point you think you’re gonna pass out.

“pussy’s so pretty, just begging for more and more. no matter how much you swear you’re done.” paige pants, her hands leaving your hips and she pulls out of you before turning you over on your back again.

she uses her strap to slap your clit that’s as swollen as ever.

you try to shut your legs once more but her hands force them open.

then she takes two of her fingers, coating them in the mess leaking from you and brings them to her lips.

your mouth falls open in disbelief, and she winks at you before pulling her fingers from her mouth.

she leans down, and you know she wants you to taste yourself. when her lips meet yours you moan into her mouth, her tongue shoved between your lips immediately.

you feel greedy, sucking on her tongue and you don’t know if you’re trying to taste more of your cum on her lips or just so eager to finally get another kiss from her.

she pulls back from the kiss abruptly with a smack. of course she’s smiling, full of herself. both of you have swollen lips and chins that show with a mixture of saliva and the rest of your release from before.

then she’s sitting beside you, her hands on your legs before she forces you on top of her.

you feel like dead weight but she can handle it.

“gotta give me one more baby, i want you to ride it.” she utters, her voice is low and she’s clearly not asking, but telling you what’s about to happen.

you weakly plant your knees on the sides of her hips, your thighs already burn, your cunt is puffy and still coated with the remnants of a few minutes ago.

“last one, you promise?” you plead, your head so heavy that when you lift it to fully look at her your neck aches.

“promise.” she chuckles, helping you situate yourself over the tip of the strap once more.

you can’t help the way that your hands push her shirt up, revealing her toned abdomen. you tut in disbelief at just how perfect she was, biting your lip.

before you can sink down she places a hand on your hip, stopping you.

you look up at her in a mix of confusion and protest. just as eager for her to be inside of you as she was.

then you watch her lift her head from the mattress, just so that she could remove the infamous hat from her head. only for her to place it on yours.

your cheeks feel hot, and you’re waiting for her to signal you to sink down onto her.

all it takes is a tilt of her chin before you’re lowering yourself slowly, hissing at the feeling and then throwing your head back when you realize just how deep inside you could feel her.

the burn is intense, but it sets your body on fire in a way that is indescribable. you swore you could feel the tip of her strap kissing your ribs.

careful not to let the hat fall off of your head you hold onto it by the brim with one hand, starting to rock your hips.

paige wasn’t going to rush you this time. she just wanted to watch you use her to get off.

“you look–fuck, b-better in it than i do.” she managed to say, stuttering when she felt her puffy clit being shoved against the part of the harness that was currently connecting both of you.

“doubt it.” you groan, already starting to feel that familiar heat in your gut for the fourth time tonight.

paige’s hands are gripping your hips, ensuring that you keep a steady rhythm. her moans were getting louder, breathier, and they mixed with yours to echo off the walls.

you know you’re making a mess on her when you feel your ass getting wetter and wetter everytime it meets the base of her cock.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby. f–fuck, you’re a pro. my pro.”

every bit of praise from her lips is fueling you to bounce faster, and grind your hips down harder.

“my good girl.” she whispers, watching how your eyes squeeze shut. you’re riding her like your life depends on it.

just like she wanted.

“i-i’m close p..i’m so close baby, shit!” you cry, reaching down to grab her hand and place it on your chest. she doesn’t need you to say anything else before she’s tweaking your nipples in each of her hands, reeling in the way your body reacts to such a little thing.

“yeah? cum for me, pretty girl.” she practically begs, knowing that the moment you’re gone, so is she.

those last two words are enough for you. your entire body goes numb, the pleasure coating you from head to toe. you can tell paige is cumming too just from the way that her hands fly back down to your hips and hold you there, ensuring that the end of the toy that’s inside of her continues to press against that spot that both of you know all too well.

you look down to where the two of your bodies meet and you have to look away, knowing that this could go on all night until you were physically unable to move anymore.

you fall forward onto her, not pulling the strap out of you just yet. needing to marinate in all that had just happened.

when you do finally lift your hips until it falls from between your folds, both you and paige are watching as it smacks onto her stomach, your release glistening on her skin.

she has to assist you in laying next to her, but does it nonetheless. you help her in removing the harness from her hips and you toss it off to the side, just wanting to be tangled up with her already.

you feel yourself grinning when she places her arm around you, realizing that the hat was still on your head.

you didn’t dare lift your hand to remove it, and neither did paige. clearly you both had enjoyed it quite a bit, maybe even too much.

regardless of who it was on.

#paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige x reader #paige x fem reader #wlw smut #wcbb smut #pbpressure🍓#namz🍓

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sadburntbread · 3 months ago

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BATFAM X NEGLECTED! MALE READER

----- Warnings before you read ----- Child Neglect, Bullying, Death, Violence, Slight swearing, Angst

"My child, my pride and joy" your mother's voice was soft and quiet, she touched the side of your cheek still chubby with baby fat "should there ever be a day when I am not here with you, then you must learn to care for yourself. You must never give your heart to those unworthy". Her words carrying the weight of years of personal experience. She was the wife of the Bruce Wayne, although it was because of an unwanted arranged marriage. her long hair framed her face as she sat in the bay window, overlooking the rain falling down on Gotham, the moonlight casting a soft glow on her face.

"Mama?" your confused face caused her eyes to soften, she picked you up and sat you in her lap. She casted a sad look at you and hugged you tightly.

"M/n, listen to me" Her voice turned stern, you nodded and focused your childish doe eyes on her "you are only eight my boy, you do not yet understand how cruel this world is.", She let out a sigh "I pity you; your father is a busy man, who never spares us the time of day. Your mother is weak in both will and heath. You only have Alfred to truly rely on". Tears were streaming from her eyes as she looked out the window, no longer being able to look you in the eyes. "I wish for you to break out of these chains that bind me. Live a life where you can smile freely. promise me that, m/n".

Over the next few years Bruce brought in many children. Dick was nice, he was cheerful but never had time for you, much like father. Jason was the best brother, you two always spent time together, however, one day he died. Tim... was ok... you were still grieving from Jason's death, and Tim never cared to look your way. Cas and Steph were just... there, Bruce was always training them, and they didn't think you were worth their time. After all, you were simply the spoiled young master Wayne. Lastly, Bruce, he never spent time with you other than at galas. When you went to the galas with your parents and adopted siblings, Bruce would treat you as his precious son. However, your mother could never look at the scene for long, knowing the true neglect that you didn't even know you were experiencing. Aside from that, life was fine. You still had your mother who loved you more than anything, and you had Alfred. Alfred thought of your mother as his own daughter and treated you as his grandson. You did good in school, always wanting to see your mother's smile when she saw your grades.

However, your whole life turned upside down the year you turned 12. Your mother died; her health had been deteriorating ever since you were born.

"Baby..." her voice was shaking, you held the had she reached out, watching as her dazed eyes couldn't find you. The only other person in the room was Alfred, " 'm sorry" Her voice broke into a sob "I'm so sorry for bringing you into this terrible place, please... Please forgive me". Her hand trembled in your grasp; tears streamed down your face.

"I could never blame you mom" you promised, at your words she smiled. With the last of her strength, she spoke again.

"Remember.... don't give... your heart to... these people". Her voice faded and her hand went limp in your hold.

"MOM!", you yelled "MOTHER PLEASE!" Alfred pulled you away from your mother, you cried in his shoulder. Your sobs echoed through the halls of the manor.

Your light was gone.

Her funeral was miserable. Bruce and your adopted siblings came, but only for appearances. As soon as the basic courtesies were over, they all left. You stayed there for the whole day and deep into the night, until Alfred made you get some rest.

After your mother's death, Bruce had you train like all your adopted siblings, it was grueling. He never taught you one-on-one, he had you watch him train the other then practice on your own. He always got so disappointed when you couldn't match pace with the others. However, you wanted to please them. Make them proud. "Foolish child" you could hear your mother say

It was around this time when Jason returned, you were so excited. finally, someone who you could spend time with, you were so lonely. But he was never the same boy you once knew, he was now cold and distant. He looked at you in annoyance... Just like the rest of them.

Days in the Wayne manor passed slowly, you followed your regular routine day by day. Wake up, got to school, go home, do schoolwork, do night watches, sleep and repeat. Things changed when father brought in your half-brother, Damian. Sure, at first you were upset that your father cheated on your mother, but now you had someone you could spend time with and relate to. You thought he would go through the same neglect, instead, he was loved, welcomed. Nothing like you.

"He's had a hard life", they'd say "you wouldn't understand, you've had everything handed to you and all the love you could want". It repeated in your head, all you did was ask why he got more love than you.

It wasn't fair... IT WASNT FAIR!

No... Calm down, take a deep breath. Hold it. Release it. Repeat.

Your mother taught you that when you'd start throwing fits, she was right. There was no use in getting upset over something you couldn't change... You'd just have to prove them wrong, be the best vigilante there ever was.

Damian was the worst. He thought of you as competition, you just wanted to be his friend.

"You know", Damian began, you had asked him to hang out, he was your younger brother after all, and you have to be a good brother like Jason used to be "It's your fault your pathetic mother died".

"...What" It wasn't a question. It was a dare, "Say that again. Do you have a death wish?" Now you were standing right in front of him, your frame towering over him. The empty living room became even more silent.

"I said", He didn't back down, instead, he stood tall "You caused your mother's death. I mean, think about it. If you hadn't been born than your mother wouldn't have fallen ill". you pushed him against the wall, pinning his shoulder with enough strength to break it, if he were a normal person. "Never mind, it wasn't your fault" Oh? was he back down? No... his smirk spread "it was your mother's fault for being so weak"

WHACK

you punched at his face; he moved but you still hit the side of his cheek, then he started punching back. it became a back and forth of fists. The two of you scuffling on the floor before a voice rang out.

"What the hell is going on here!?", you both looked over. It was dick, he was followed by the rest of your adopted siblings. Both of you let go of the other, your breathing ragged. You noticed Damian's breathing was steady, as if he hadn't just been fighting. Monster

'"He-" You tried to explain yourself, but Dick cut you off. He stormed up to you, his expression was furious, and he smacked you...hard. You stood shocked, your head turned to the side and your eyes wide in disbelief, you put your hand to your burning cheek.

"You are older than him! I don't care what excuse you have, you should know better!" Dick yelled, he grabbed you by your wrist and began pulling you. "We're going to see Bruce, you can explain yourself to him". Dick dragged you to Bruces's office, his grip was painfully tight. When you two stood Infront of the doors to his office you felt dread fill you. It wasn't your fault. It was Damian's. you repeated in your head. Dick pushed the doors open quickly, Bruce looked up at his arrival, waiting for an explanation. He always just ignored you; he'd say that he was too busy and to come back later. "He was fighting with Damian. The kid just started punching him." Dick explained. You froze as your father's disapproving eyes turned to you.

NO! that's not how it happened! You had to defend yourself, say something...ANYTHING. "He-he said mother was weak! That I was the reason she died!" You stuttered as you tried to explain. He'd understand, surly. However, your hopes were crushed when Bruce's expression didn't change, when it didn't soften in understanding.

"Dick, Leave us. I'll talk with him". Bruce instructed. Dick sent you a quick disappointed glare then left, the door closed with a slight slam. The office was quite before Bruce let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "I understand that you were upset. However, that is no reason to hit your younger brother". His gaze turned to you, then back to the papers on his desk. "Aside from that, I've been meaning to talk to you".

Oh? He wants to talk to you? That has never happened before. You felt yourself getting excited, forgetting all about the scuffle with Damian.

"I have decided to make Damian the heir to the Wayne Enterprises". Bruce didn't even look at you. He never does.

"...What?" You couldn't stop the question from slipping out. No, you had to defend your position, Mother's position. Consequences be damned. "No, you can't! He is an affair child; I am supposed to take over the company!"

That was a mistake. Bruce glared at you, his piercing eyes shutting you up quickly. "Do not fight with me child. The decisions already been made. Now go get ready for your night watch". That was it. The conversation was over. When you walked to your room you passed by the living room full of your adopted siblings, all joking with each other. You watched them for a moment before made eye contact with Damian, then, he smirked.

After it became public that you were no longer going to take over Wayne Enterprises, people outside the manor stopped being kind to you. After all, you were no longer the heir to the company, why should they care about you?

That leads us a couple years in the future, to tonight, the night was hauntingly beautiful. On this night Batman and his crew of sidekicks were all out because the Joker had gotten a new toy. Some beasts with something akin to tendrils. You all had to split up, Cass and Steph, Dick and Jason, Tim and Damian. you were sent off on your own, like always. But it was fine, you were used to it. You had gotten stronger, both emotionally and physically.

but tonight was different, you couldn't handle it. you and Batman were in the same general area; however, you were both distracted with your own fights. Then a quiet voice could be heard, one that was not the joker's, you looked over and saw an elderly lady in the middle of the shopping district you were fighting in. A tendril flew at you before you could run to her, you blocked it and turned to the lady.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?", you yelled at her, she looked at you, a helpless look in her eyes. She was confused. "EVACUATE!" At your yelling, Batman looked over to you two, his eyes widened as he noticed the lady. Batman quickly finished off the beast he was fighting then turned to the lady, a tendril rushed towards her. Batman rushed to grab her first, it was close, but he successfully caught her and dropped her nearby safely.

However, the tendril turned and rushed towards you. Too fast for you to react, all you could do was yell. "DAD!" The first time you had said that in such a long time.

It was too late. The tendril pierced through your stomach.

It went quiet. You couldn't hear or see anything. Couldn't hear Batman's yell of your name, couldn't see him rushing to you. All you could see was the black tendril in your stomach. your vision got hazy, and you dropped.

You were caught, but you couldn't see who. It was terrifying, the cold you felt. Did mother feel the same way?

There was a voice... Who's? Their tone was begging. Was there anyone who cared enough to beg you to stay?

You were so, so tired... Then you saw her....

Mother

"DAD!!" Your voice cut through the air; Batman looked to you. His eyes widened at the sight of you being pierced through.

"M/N!!" Batman didn't even know he could sound so desperate. His son was going to die, just like Jason. He rushed to your side, pulling off his cape to wrap the wound. when the cape was tight enough, he grabbed you, carrying you to a distant building, one untouched by the enemy. He had to fight his way through the area, it was difficult with you in his arms, but he made sure you didn't get hurt any more than you already had. "Don't you die on me, m/n! I promise to treat you better. Don't leave me, not like your mother". He mumbled pleas as he carried you, and even more after he set you down. After he was sure you were still breathing (Although shallow and rough) Batman spoke into the communication device all of his children shared. "M/n is injured. Clear your area and hurry to [-----]. I have him resting safely in an abandoned building, we need to take him back to the manor, I'm not sure how much longer he'll last". It was less than a minute before multiple worried voices came though the mic, promising to be there soon. Batman pushed the hair from your sweaty face, "I won't let you die". With that he rushed back to the thick of the battle.

It was less than 20 minutes later when the rest of the Batfamily arrived, with them all working together they were able to take down the beasts and the joker relatively quickly. As soon as the battle was over Nightwing turned to Batman.

"Where is he!? Where is M/n?!" Nightwing's voice was rushed and out of breath from the fight, the others behind him listened closely for Batman's answer, they were all in a similar state as Nightwing. Batman pointed to an abandoned building, still untouched by conflict. No words needed to be spoken; they all took off in that direction. However, they paused as a laugh cut through the air, they all looked over to the source, it was the Joker. In a weak voice, Joker spoke.

"Boom" At his word many nearby buildings exploded, including the one batman set you in.

"NO!" Red Hood yelled, he felt terrible, he took his anger for Batman out on you, his baby brother. The same brother he swore to protect. They all took off, rushing to the building, holding onto hope that you somehow survived. The building you were set in was completely destroyed, but they all keep searching, they needed proof you were truly gone.

Damian paused his search, before quickly moving stones. His sudden hurry caused the others to all join him. they found something...

bits and pieces of batman's cape, then.... an arm... your arm...

You were gone, and they never had the chance to apologize, to spend movie nights with you, to take you out to eat, to celebrate your birthday.

It only took your death for them realize they failed you.

TO BE CONTINUED

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jeondesu · 3 months ago

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ೀ⋆ 📚 THE PERFECT PAIR !

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ 𝓹airing ꒱ ˒˓ nerd!han jisung x popular!f!reader 𝓰enre/𝓽ags. college au, fluff, angst (kinda but not rlly), minor profanity, jisung is the cutiest pie ever oml 𝔀ords. 2.3k

[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — omg, i just realized i haven’t posted an actual written fic on here in FOREVER that’s crazy, we need to change that. but n e way, this is actually for @sta4, i’m so sorry this took a gazillion years (pls forgive me) and i rlly hope you liked it <3

“Be honest… do you think she noticed?” Jisung looked visibly in distress, his face drained of all color as if he’d just witnessed a paranormal sighting in his own dorm.

“Dude she definitely saw it, you blew it. Big time.” Jeongin states matter-of-factly, as if it were the end all be all.

Jisung slumped backwards, sinking into the mattress, dark brunette strands tumbled haphazardly over the pillow as he stared up at the ceiling. He’d been overthinking and analyzing every little detail for hours since that fleeting encounter you had with him in class this morning. He didn’t want to believe a word his friend was telling him, still latching onto a sliver of hope that you hadn’t took a peek at his laptop screen before he slammed it shut the second you walked up to him.

He grimaced at the thought of you taking note of his Goku wallpaper, everything happened so fast, he wasn’t given much time to react— though he’s almost 99% positive you hadn’t caught sight of it.

You approached him with a confident stride, your head held high, even adding a little wave which he barely registered as being directed towards him. He thought he was hallucinating from being so sleep deprived, staying up all night playing video games might’ve finally took a toll on him— but as he blinks again to snap out of his ‘dream’, you’re still standing right there.

Jisung was more than confused why you of all people would want to talk to him, praying by some miracle you couldn’t detect how much of a nervous wreck he was on the inside, forcing a stiff smile as he tried his best to play it off like he totally wasn’t losing his mind.

The strong scent of your perfume lingered in the air, making it even more of a struggle for him to breathe, let alone speak, but he couldn’t shake off the embarrassment. If you knew how much of a weeb he truly was, he’d probably never show his face around you or on campus ever again.

“Okay, maybe there’s a possibility she may have seen it, but only for a split second! Otherwise, I think I played it cool.” He recants, brushing off his friend’s lack of verbal support, “I was in the middle of an intense game of Tetris and she asked for my notes!”

Jeongin shrugs, “Okay, so..? That doesn’t suddenly make her interested in you.”

“Yeah it does, because she asked me specifically out of everyone else so that’s gotta mean something, right?” He reaffirms, the hopeful tone in his voice laced with sheer desperation.

Jeongin shifts slightly, leaning further into the comfort of his gaming chair, not even bothering to pause his game of League of Legends to entertain his friend’s delusions. He didn’t mean to crush Jisung’s ego with his cynicism but he had to be realistic.

“You sound like those giddy high school girls who just interacted with their crush for the first time.”

Well, he wasn’t lying, he surely did feel like one. Ever since you spoke to him earlier all he could think about was you— nothing else occupied his mind. He couldn’t concentrate on a single thing, couldn’t retain any of the information he read as he studied, or even play League which was his favorite game of all time. He was deeply, utterly infatuated and his thoughts were scattered all over the place.

Jisung sinks his teeth into his lower lip, swallowing an unnecessarily thick lump that’s been sitting in the back of his throat, “Look, all I’m saying is I don’t think I totally blew it. She even winked back at me when she left! She’s into me, I can feel it.”

Jeongin chuckles at his friend’s sudden newfound confidence but still remains unconvinced.

“We’ll see about that tomorrow when she ignores you and forgets that you even existed.”

The next day in class, Jisung is doing everything he can to try and maintain a nonchalant demeanor but it wasn’t working— at all. He’d completely thrown his ‘cool’ act out the window the minute he accidentally locked eyes with you, not even noticing how he’s been anxiously bouncing his leg underneath the desk.

He could’ve sworn you were an otherworldly being, he didn’t even feel adequate enough to be sitting in the same room as you.

You had sat a couple rows ahead of him, he preferred to always sit in the back along with Jeongin. He couldn’t help but stare, you were simply nothing short of perfect— lost in a trance as he watched you absentmindedly twirl the pencil you had borrowed from him along with his notes from the day before.

You had jotted down a few things in your spiral notebook, but it seemed as though you weren’t paying much attention to the lecture, copying most of your friend’s notes who sat beside you, every so often you’d be giggling at something she whispered to you— having been shushed by the professor more than once already.

Class went on as usual— it dragged on slower than it normally did, but maybe that was because Jisung kept zoning in and out. He didn’t take very many notes since he already knew most of the material like the back of his hand, but he still pretended to anyway, scribbling nonsense in the margins just to keep his hands busy, not even realizing that he’s wrote your name several times with hearts surrounding it, flipping the page immediately before Jeongin could notice what he’d been mindlessly up to.

Once class was officially over, everyone scrambled out of their seats to rush out of there as quickly as possible. Jeongin had one more class left that took place in ten minutes, bidding his goodbyes before he dashed out the classroom. Jisung slung his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to leave— until you appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, the sweet scent of your perfume infiltrating his senses once again.

Holding your notebooks flat against your chest, your delicate, freshly manicured hand tapped his arm lightly— just enough to get his attention. As if you didn’t already have it given to you on a silver platter.

He froze in place, still recovering from the shock of the events that unfolded from yesterday.

“Hey Jisung, I was wondering if-”

“Yes.” He blurts without hesitation before you could even finish your sentence, instantly regretting everything— oh how he wants to bash his head against the wall repeatedly at this very moment..

You could see the desperation seeping through his pores, but you don’t point it out. It was honestly kind of cute to you and you found it endearing how timid he’d act around you, a stark contrast from most of the frat boys you’d often interact with.

He attempts to save himself by quickly rephrasing his words, only to come off as more socially inept than he already is. “S-sorry.. it’s been a long day for me. Uh, what did you need..?”

You giggled softly, “I was wondering if you could help me with statistics? Unfortunately I’m not doing very well and can’t afford to flunk this semester, so I was hoping you could tutor me?” Your eyes beamed at him as if they held a million galaxies in them.

“Y-yeah, sure. I can help!” He awkwardly responds, adjusting his thick framed glasses by pushing them up with his index and middle finger.

A smile spreads across your face upon hearing that, “oh, awesome!” You weren’t expecting him to readily agree on the spot, but it worked out in your favor perfectly. “So, what days are you free?”

24/7. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. He would simply rearrange his whole life for you.

“Usually I’m free on Tuesdays or Thursdays, sometimes Wednesdays but it depends,” he answers, trying to sound as if he’s been asked this a million times before. “But.. if none of those days don’t work for you, I can work something else out.”

That was a total lie. There was nothing he needed to work out.

“Oh and weekends are kinda iffy for me,” he added.

Yet another lie. He was quite literally always free.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays works out perfectly for me, actually!” You take up his offer right away, “how does tomorrow after school at my place sound?”

You spoke so casually, completely unfazed, as if you weren’t actively flipping his entire world upside down. He simply nodded. Somehow managing not to freak out instead of dropping to his knees in front of you like some lovesick puppy.

“Cool! Wanna exchange numbers?” You calmly suggest while pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans.

Jisung nervously gulped, his throat going dry yet again as he slowly feels himself about to have a mental breakdown.

You wanted his phone number?

Now he’ll really get the last laugh when he rubs it in Jeongin��s face that he’s got one of the prettiest and most popular girls at school’s number. You switch phones and he adds his contact information into yours to which you do the same for him.

Once you gave it back, his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when he sees the contact name you set in his phone: ‘y/n <3’

“C’mon y/n, we only have four more problems left.” Jisung is doing all he can to try and motivate you, pointing his finger at the next problem he urged you to solve but you groaned in response.

You invited him over to your dorm while your other roommate would be gone for a couple of hours, opting to study in your room rather than the common area. Your room was on the smaller scale, but still had a warm and cozy atmosphere to it. Movie posters and fairy lights lined the walls of your side, along with dozens of little random trinkets you’ve collected over the years as decoration, and succulent plants sat on the window sill. The vanilla candle you burned added a nice touch, it was calming, tranquil— exactly how Jisung imagined it to be.

“I can’t do this anymore..” you draw out a heavy sigh, looking at the equation as it were in a third language. Math has always been your Achilles heel, it was your least favorite subject and you barely passed by the skin of your teeth each time.

“My brain’s going to explode if I continue this for another minute,” you couldn’t even force yourself to power through, you were beyond over it. Yes, you were being a little overdramatic, but you got the point across— you needed a well deserved break.

His hand accidentally brushed up against yours to grab a colored pencil, “okay, if you really need a break then let’s take one and I’m sorry if I’m overwhelming you in any way. I’ll finish the problem for you and we can stop for a while.” He writes the rest of the equation down on the worksheet and turns to you to hand the colored pencil back, hoping that you don’t notice his flushed exterior.

You lean your arm against the desk, resting the side of your face inside your palm, “can’t believe this is my life now.. studying for my stupid stats exams instead of having fun with my friends.”

Jisung couldn’t help but take some pride in himself for that, sure you may be just using him as a personal tutor but at least he’s getting to spend one on one time with you.

“So you chose studying with me over hanging out with your friends?”

He still couldn’t believe he was even here, he almost had a heart attack when you texted him first that same day you asked to exchange numbers. He would spend minutes contemplating over every little word, every punctuation, and if he wasn’t sure how to respond, he’d simply send you some weird meme that he found while scrolling on Reddit. His phone used to be drier than a desert, but now he’s checking it every 5 seconds in case he gets a new message from you.

“Yeah, I mean I could always see them another time but I refuse to retake this class again over the summer,” you shrugged, “plus you seem pretty cool, I like hanging out with you.”

Was he hearing things correctly? Did one of the most popular girls on campus just say that she likes hanging out with him? He truly felt like he was dreaming— yeah, he had to be dreaming.

“I didn’t think you hung out with guys like me..”

Your brows furrowed, glancing over at him as if he’d just said the most absurd news you’ve ever heard. “And what makes you think that?”

“Uh- I dunno.” He stammered, his eyes darting across the room, looking everywhere but at you.

Curse him for being so damn awkward… and curse you for being the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on.

You couldn’t help but giggle, “I actually think you’re really cute,” you confess, choosing a less subtle approach about expressing your feelings, “you’re nice and super smart too, which most guys aren’t.”

The two of you stayed in silence for what seemed like an eternity before he grew the ability to choke up a response, his ears burning the deepest shade of crimson, “Well.. thank you.”

“I mean it.” You solemnly replied, “Also, I think your Goku wallpaper is really cool.”

So you did notice it after all. But you didn’t care, you took interest in him because he was authentically himself, you liked him exactly for who he is— he’s never pretended to be something that he’s not.

Before you even gave him the opportunity to speak, you decide to lay it all out on the table. Harboring no regrets. “I like you a lot, Jisung.”

He paused, still trying to process everything that’s been thrown at him in a matter of seconds, but he could no longer deny the way he felt. The corners of his lips curled upward, his gummy smile making an eventual appearance, knowing exactly where this leads after he says those final words.

“I really like you too, y/n.”

it’s literally 3 am and i am SO SLEEPY, but i had to finish this for you guys <33 pls lmk if you liked this, likes/comments/reblogs are much appreciated tysm !! ( *ﾉ ▽ﾉ) ✧･ﾟ

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aprilisthecruelestmonth · 5 months ago

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April is the Cruelest Month Whump Event 2025!

Here we are again! The second year of AitCM!

It's a good month to whump our favorite characters!

In AitCM, to complete, you only have to write 15 days, and the other fifteen days you read & rec a fic that fits one the prompts for the day. (Feel free to create and promote art pieces as well!)

This not only makes it easier to fit into a busy schedule, but it helps promote your favorite writers!

You are more than welcome, of course, to write all thirty days or rec all thirty days—or both—but that is not necessary to complete the challenge.

Join us in filling the world with spectacular whump stories!

Tag us in your stories, recs, and art!

The prompt list for your convenience:

Day One:

Cornered-|-Whipped-|-Blood on hands-|- “Please… let me go”

Day Two:

Brave face-|-Branding-|-Self-sacrifice-|- “Pick on someone your own size”

Day Three:

Paranoia-|-Framed-|-Can’t Speak-|- “I don’t want to hear it”

Day Four:

Falling from a high place-|-Hunted-|-Fever-|- “I’m scared”

Day Five:

Slavery-|-Mind Control-|-Forced to beg-|- “It’s too late to ask for forgiveness”

Day Six:

Overprotective-|-Hidden Injury-|-Amputation-|- “I can’t do this”

Day Seven:

Panic Attack-|-Poisoned-|-Exhaustion-|- “No, no hospitals”

Day Eight:

Blackmail-|-Cursed-|-Made to watch-|- “Why did you do it?”

Day Nine:

Amnesia-|-Explosion-|-Failed Escape-|- “I don’t feel a pulse”

Day Ten:

Touch starved-|-Gunshots-|-Presumed Dead-|- “It’s your fault”

Day Eleven:

Nausea-|-Concussion-|-Secret Reveal-|- “Why did you come back?”

Day Twelve:

Dehydration-|-Tied up-|-Torture-|- “I wish you were dead”

Day Thirteen:

Explosion-|-Fainting-|-Fighting through the pain-|- “What did you say?”

Day Fourteen:

Medical Injury-|-Drugged-|-Pre-mortem Autopsy-|- “It’s not too late”

Day Fifteen:

Screams-|-Drowning-|-Fallen through the ice-|- “I’m so, so sorry”

Day Sixteen:

Sleep Deprivation-|-Choked-|-Hostage Situation-|- “Give them room to breathe”

Day Seventeen:

Phobias-|-Burned-|-Public Execution -|- “Just grin and bear it”

Day Eighteen:

Abandonment Issues-|-Used as Bait-|-Unconventional Weapon-|- “We can’t leave them”

Day Nineteen:

Stranded-|-Animal Bites-|-Self-surgery-|- “Not everyone makes it out”

Day Twenty:

Earthquake-|-Collapsed-|-Suffocation-|- “Everything hurts”

Day Twenty-One:

Stockholm Syndrome-|-Broken Bone-|-Withdrawl-|- “Don’t leave me here”

Day Twenty-Two:

Migraine-|-seizure-|-Running on Adrenaline -|- “Don’t speak”

Day Twenty-Three:

Confrontation-|-Stumbling-|-Scar Reveal-|- “Don’t let them in”

Day Twenty-Four:

Vengeance-|-Humiliated-|-A Game of Roulette-|- “Why can’t I move?”

Day Twenty-Five:

Stalker-|-Blindfolded-|-Friendly Fire-|- “You said you loved me”

Day Twenty-Six:

Infection-|-Beaten-|-Failed Escape -|- “It’s too late. They’re inside”

Day Twenty-Seven:

Weeping-|-Kidnapped-|-Running out of air-|- “It’s not my blood”

Day Twenty-Eight:

Over Work-|-Accident-|-Head Injury -|- “Where does it hurt?”

Day Twenty-Nine:

Windstorm-|-Broken Trust-|-No place to go-|- “I don’t want to talk about it”

Day Thirty:

Being Carried-|-Hyperventilating-|-Waking up disoriented-|- “I just need a hug”

Alt prompts:

1- Insomnia

2- Fall Guy

3- Whumper turned Caretaker

4- Twisted Knife

5- Pick who dies

6- Hot Coals

7- Ice Burns

8- Pulling Teeth

9- Waterboarding

10- Electrocution

Choose one or more of the prompts daily (or use an alt prompt) and get to work!

The minimum requirement is 100 words. It's not terribly strict. If 100 words seems too daunting, try to get as close as you can. There is no maximum word count, though.

Post your stories to our Ao3 collection:

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/April_is_the_Cruelest_Month_2025_Event

Do your best and get to whumping!

Special thanks to Lynn(justanotherinterneruser) for helping put this together. <3

#writing prompt #whump writing #whump prompt #writing #whump #whump tropes #whump community #whumpblr #Aprilisthecruelestmonth #aitcm2025

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fushiguruuzzzz · 5 months ago

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KAGEYAMA is not a clingy boy.

At least… not until he’s sick. Or tired. Or in this once in a lifetime occurrence, he’d fallen victim to both circumstances.

“Hey,” he mumbled, a raspy edge to his voice caused by both dreariness and the sore ache within. “Where… where’re you going?”

His arms tightened around you almost instinctively, strapping you down into the plush cushions of the couch as if you’d fade to dust otherwise. He lay at a 45° angle, legs tossed casually over the edge of the couch but body bending in impressive ways to get closer to you. His black hair was rubbed every which way—the tufts defying gravity itself, tickling your exposed skin as he shifted to get a better look at you. Even in his barely-awake state, his eyes held an intensity that would unnerve most, but only made your heart thump louder in your ribs.

“Was just gonna get a drink, Kags…” you said softly, a hint of amusement swirling around the edges of your words. “Am I allowed to do that?”

It took him a moment to process the tease, but when he did, his eyes dropped to the way his arms were locked around you and he was suddenly all too aware of his cheek pressed to your shoulder. A light pink dusted over his cheekbones. “Yeah,” he replied, mentally scolding himself afterwards for how defensive it sounded as it left his lips. His arms loosened in the slightest, but your hand placed gently on his bicep made him halt the movement.

You chuckled. “M’just playing around. I don’t mind when you get all sucky like this.”

His lips parted, inky brows knitting together and the red on his face deepening. “I’m not-“ He cut himself off with a second glance at your positions. He was clinging to you like some sort of marsupial, limbs intertwined in knots that would take ancient masters years to detangle. “Just… shut up.”

You laughed again, and if it weren’t for the gentle squeeze you gave him, he might’ve glared harder. But your touch was tender and your laugh silky smooth, sugary sweet and flowing through his veins. It was a soft whisper in his ear telling him that maybe, just this once, he could be selfish. He could be clingy.

a/n: 1:18am rn we 🆙 forgive me if this is cheeks because obviously my brain is not at full capacity. Posting later in the day though because I just posted that Kenma smau thing and I don’t wanna mess with the algorithm too much.

Gen/hq tags: @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee @bubybubsters @lizbix @mayyhaps @adoresia @aldebrana

#collection of sprouts #kageyama tobio #haikyuu kageyama #hq kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama fluff #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio x you #haikyuu tobio #hq tobio #tobio kageyama x reader #tobio kageyama #tobio kageyama x you #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader

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strwbrychffoncke · 6 months ago

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"baby ,i care for you,, 2.6k words synopsis: caleb nurses you back to health contains: fluff! lads caleb x f!reader (caleb calls you "good girl" + "silly girl" x1) ,established relationship! ,just some self-indulgent fluffy sick comfort ,chef!caleb ,kind of stern!caleb (he's just worried) ,caleb makes u take medicine ,two suggestive jokes (cause its caleb) ,like one second of angst ,one single use of "gege" ,he carries you to the couch ,he pats your head/gives u a massage ,lulls you to sleep ,one head kiss ,i think thats it note: not proofread! its 5 in the morning when i post this so forgive any mistakes i just needed this out of my system i need him to take care of me so baaad :x enjoy

for some reason, you woke early for someone who didn't sleep till the late hours into the morning last night.

what you'd gotten couldn't even be considered proper sleep, more like just a nap, but somehow your body wasn't too keen on slipping back into the grips of slumber that easily.

and somehow, you woke up feeling even worse than you had for the past two days.

even if your sore throat was mostly gone, you heaved out a couple of dry coughs as you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket, shivering in the cold that surrounded the room (courtesy of your comfort, unable to sleep comfortably otherwise even if it worsened your current condition), and on top of that your head was softly throbbing. not wanting to deal with it, you decided to lay back completely to soothe the pain.

your nose was stuffy and runny at the same time, reaching for some tissues on the bedside table to wipe away at it, not before sneezing a couple of times and sniffling afterwards— it was so sensitive today for some reason.

you let out a deep sigh, soft breaths escaping from your mouth as you couldn't breathe comfortably from your nose.

how did it get worse? sure, you only took medicine once yesterday instead of every couple of hours like you were supposed to, but seriously, it was just a sore throat and a small fever!

you sighed, irritated that you were still sick. weren't you supposed to be the one with a good immune system? you and caleb often argued about it, and if he were here, he would surely use this as a point that his was better.

the yearning for his presence bit into the silence of the room as you laid comfortably on your back, shutting your eyes once again as your shallow breaths evened out.

you thought about getting up, washing your face and then making your way to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, and then something to eat so that you could take your medicine and then proceed to rest- something caleb would already be doing for you the moment he'd realize you were sick.

but he wasn't here right now, and even though you'd seen his moments posts about being out with friends, you had no plan to worry him when this was just a little cold.

you thought about it- you were hungry after all, and you wanted something warm to soothe your throat, but just the idea of going all the way down and doing all of that at the moment in your state was tiring.

but, you had taken care of yourself for the past two days like this. what was another?

you opened your eyes, pulled yourself up with a groan, swung your legs over the edge of the bed to slip on your slippers, slipped on the closest sweater and slowly padded your way to the bathroom, leaning against the wall for balance as your headache and sick haze had you dizzy and unsteady on your feet.

you washed up without much of a hitch, and when you exited the bathroom, you thought you heard a door close.

huh?

you thought it might be your mind playing tricks on you. after all, you were at home by yourself and weren't expecting anyone (even if you yearned for someone, the stray thought of him being here leaving you as soon as it came), and you couldn't think of anyone that would stop by on a random wednesday who also happened to have a key to your place.

you shook your head, pocketing your phone as you padded down the way towards the living room, pausing at the faint sound of the television being on- had you left it on?- before proceeding towards the kitchen.

you froze at the sound of light humming coming from your kitchen, feet subconsciously carrying your slightly swaying body closer at the pleasant smell of food wafting towards your nose, completely disregarding a certain bag laying at the end of the empty sofa.

your footsteps must've been heavier than you thought because before you could fully enter the kitchen, the person in question turned around, staring straight at you, spatula in his hand and smile stretching across his face.

"morning, sleepyhead."

you tilted your head.

"caleb?" you whispered.

"surprised?"

you took a few steps closer, heart pounding with excitement but managing to keep your distance due to your illness.

"what are you-"

"hey."

his playful smile quickly morphs into a look of concern as he studies your face, noticing your shallow breaths, quiet voice and slightly-swaying body.

"pipsqueak, are you sick?"

you jolt, looking off to the side.

"not really, its just—"

you startle at his free hand brushing your bangs from your head and resting on your forehead.

"hey! i don't have a fever, i'm fine—"

"your voice is mostly gone," he deadpans.

"that's—"

"how long have you been sick??" his look is full of concern, voice laced with worry.

"just the past two days.."

"two days? and you didn't think to tell me?"

"it was just a sore throat at first!"

"and you're telling me this is still just that?"

before you can answer you're interrupted, bringing up your sleeved arm up to cover the lower half of your face to sneeze twice into it before sniffling.

you put your sleeved arm down and sigh.

"bless you," he says, taking a once over if your state before placing a hand on your lower back.

"here, i made you breakfast, just- sit down, i'll get you everything."

"that's okay, i wanted to—"

"i have water ready for tea if that's what you're after, just sit down, i'll bring it to you."

he says it in a way that almost feels like he's scolding you, and you can't help but to obey and trudge over to the closest seat at the dining table, secretly grateful since your head was hurting more now.

you momentarily rest your head on the cool surface, missing the frown that adorns caleb's face at seeing you in such a weakened state.

he knew how prideful you were when it came to your wellbeing, and he also knew how, for as little as it happened, sick you got when you did succumb to illness.

luckily, from a surface level it didn't look too bad, and the duration wasn't anywhere near severe-level yet. he was sure it was something plenty of rest and medicine would help with.

which is when he vowed, while filling your plate and pouring the steaming water into your favorite mug with a green tea bag resting inside, that he would be the one to nurse you back to health himself.

just like he used to.

"that's way too many, caleb!"

"i'm not letting you leave until you take em' all."

"is this really necessary??"

"lingering sore throat, mild fever, headache, stuffy and runny nose, sneezing, dry cough. did i miss anything?"

"no.."

"then yes, this is all necessary. it's not even that much!"

"caleb, there's five different pills sitting in front of me. i am not swallowing all of that!"

"haven't you swallowed more than just this before?"

"caleb!"

you smack his arm and he lets out a hearty laugh— one that you're grateful to see (despite it being at your expense), given he's mostly been overcome with concern— before looking over the medicines again.

"fine, fine, here."

one hand drags an orange pill away towards him.

"how about now?"

you deadpan.

"you're joking, right?" you sniffle.

"that's the best i can do, pipsqueak. now hurry up and take them."

you let out a groan, but reach for the largest pill first.

"do i really—"

"yes," he crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. "i won't say it again."

you sigh, taking a small sip of tea before slipping the pill between your lips, tipping your head back before taking multiple large gulps of your tea to help its descent.

caleb nods, uncurling his hands and reaching for his utensil to grab some rice.

"good girl, now eat some more and take the rest," he instructs, shoving the rice into his mouth.

you're about to speak but are interrupted by a small sneeze.

"bless you."

you pout at him.

he points to your plate with his chopsticks.

"eat."

"you're lucky your food is so good..." you trail off, shoveling some eggs into your mouth, delight quickly filling you at the flavor of such a simple food item.

the cycle repeats: caleb watching you take sips of your tea and shoveling small bites of food into your mouth before pushing the next pill towards you until they're all gone.

in no time at all, both of your plates are empty. he takes yours from in front of you as you sip on the remainder of your tea, nodding when he asks if you're finished before taking them away to the sink.

you watch as he rolls up his sleeves and makes quick work to wash the plates, utensils, and the kitchenware he'd used, mesmerized by the familiar movements but willing to watch again and again all the same.

once he was finished and the dishes were properly put away, he dries his hands, walking back over to you and feeling your forehead again.

"hmm.. not too warm. how are you feeling right now? are you cold?"

you nod your head, and he gently pats the top of it. you close your eyes in response, the gesture soothing to you.

he grins.

always so cute...

"we should get you back to bed," he murmurs, bending down to your level. "want gege to carry you?"

you crack your eyes open and shake your head, prompting him to tilt his in question.

"i don't want you tripping on the way to your room if you're still dizzy, pipsqueak—"

"i don't wanna go to my room," you cut him off.

"can't i rest near you?" you peer up at him, hope filled in your droopy eyes, and something about that hits him.

you'd been on your own feeling like crap the past two days (now onto the third) and, knowing you, haven't been taking proper care of yourself, prompting the sickness to become what it is now.

no one could guarantee that you'd been eating properly, taking the proper medicine and on time, and most of all, not trying to work while in this state.

his heart feels heavy at the thought, but at his prolonged silence and hard stare, you shift your gaze behind him, embarrassed, and speak up again.

"or— i've already caused you enough trouble, right? this is supposed to be your time off and i've worried you enough... so i'll go back to my room! i wouldn't want to get you si—"

"no, no, no," he quickly cuts you off, swiftly shaking his head before grabbing onto your shoulders.

"pipsqueak, when have i ever denied you of your wishes?"

you sniffle. he did have a point...

"and besides, it's my job to worry about you, ya know?"

"so come on, let me carry you to the couch, yeah? we can put on whatever you like until you fall asleep."

you smile, ever so grateful at how caleb loved to spoil you.

you move to stand up and barely feel your feet hit the ground for half a second before you're easily scooped into caleb's arms, laughing at the sudden gesture before he walks towards the living room with you.

"caleb! i could've—"

"nope, you really couldn't have. i saw the way you trudged through the kitchen earlier, pipsqueak. you looked like you'd fall over if i so much as blew on you."

you look away, small pout adorning your lips, sniffling again.

"s' not my fault... don't even know how i got sick this time."

"maybe cause you missed me so much?

"yeah, maybe."

his heart throbs at your honesty, plopping down on the couch with you before smiling.

"so i guess this means i've got the better immune system, huh?"

"ugh, i knew you'd bring that up..."

he chuckles, letting you adjust in his hold as you use his lap as a pillow.

"whaddya wanna watch, pipsqueak?"

"dunno," you yawn. "just see what's on right now."

you watch as he looks around for the remote, pointing at it being just out of reach on the coffee table. you're about to offer to grab it before you see the strings of his evol grip onto it, bringing it into his hand before he catches it with ease and begins flipping through the channels.

"cheater," you tease quietly, letting out a small laugh at his use of his evol.

"hm?" he catches your words, humming thoughtfully in response, eyes glued to the television.

"you say that, but i remember a certain hunter practically crying under my evol while begging me to—"

"c-caleb!"

he laughs at the way you try to swat at him as you're laying down, settling for a small thwap! on his thigh instead.

"sorry, sorry," he says nonchalantly, loving how easily riled up he could get you at the mention your bedroom activities.

"here," he says, free hand finding its way to your head, softly massaging at your scalp.

"this a good enough apology?" he asks, only earning pleased mewls from you in response.

he smiles fondly in response, pleased at your little noises and the way you nuzzle into him further, resembling a satisfied cat that just filled its belly and was ready for its afternoon nap.

he eventually lands on a channel with a classic favorite movie for the both of you, setting the remote down and using his now-free hand to rub soothing circles into your back.

"you know, wearing my clothes while you're sick is a little selfish, don't you think?"

"s' warm," you mumble, slowly being lulled to sleep by his ministrations.

"and comfy. smells like you..."

even though he teased you, he always felt his heart grow fuller at the sight of you in his clothes, and he felt some amount of pride that it was the first thing you'd reached for even in your current state.

"yeah? i guess i can forgive you," he whispers, evol reaching for the nearest blanket to drape it over your lower half.

in the edges of slumber, you can feel a kiss being planted on the side of your head, but you don't have the energy to reprimand him for doing such a thing and risk himself getting sick.

he sits back up, watching you fondly as he continues his comforting ministrations.

"get well soon, okay? ill be right here when you wake up."

even after he was sure you were sleeping, he continued his gentle caresses, comforted by the fact that you were there with him, and that he could keep a close eye on you.

so long as you were under caleb's care, you would be okay; that was something he would always make sure of.

extra:

half-paying attention to the movie on screen, he was already planning a soup to make you when his phone buzzed beside him.

it was a message from a friend of his.

wanna grab a bite later? my treat! some others will be joining too.

grateful for the offer, he messaged back quickly.

can't, playing nurse for my cute girlfriend tonight~

aw, next time, then!

he placed his phone back down, looking back at you and brushing stray hair out of your face as he thought back to your words.

"can't i rest near you?"

you'd looked so helpless, almost like you were expecting him to refuse you and make you rest by yourself, but eyes holding a lingering hope anyway as they peered into his soul.

his heart is full, his eyes are full of mirth, lips curling lovingly.

silly girl...

there's nowhere he'd rather be than here, right beside you—

whether you were ill or perfectly healthy.

always.

and he would make sure you never felt the burden of illness by yourself so long as he could help it.

a/n: i'm sick and couldn't help but imagine the l&ds men taking care of me ,and namely imagined caleb nursing me back to health so here we are. caleb come home!

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace fanfic #lnds caleb #lads caleb #l&ds caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #xia yizhou #love and deepspace caleb x reader #lnds caleb x reader #lads caleb x reader #love and deepspace fluff #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #lads fanfic

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pellucid-constellations · 9 months ago

Text

I'd Answer

You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.

Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask

“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?”

“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.

Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?”

“Not particularly.”

Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn.

The third sigh was your breaking point.

You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.”

“Oh, well in that case—”

“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”

You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily.

Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?”

“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.”

The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”

You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind.

When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…”

Mor trailed off.

Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?”

Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.”

“Tell me anyways.”

“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.

“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.”

A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—”

“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.”

Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap.

You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault.

Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you.

But it was this.

It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been.

“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.”

Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence.

It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door.

Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock.

You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.

Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that.

“Hi.”

Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes.

You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be.

Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…”

“No, I—Come in.”

You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room.

“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked.

Something inside of you hurt.

“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.”

Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched.

“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.”

“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”

“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n. I care about you more than anything—I love you.”

“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?”

Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?”

“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin.

“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—”

“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—”

“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.”

Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—”

You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair.

Gods, you missed him.

You missed him and everything hurt.

“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”

The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change.

“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”

Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.”

“You can, angel.”

“I need to know that you love me.”

A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze.

“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”

You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.”

“I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I am safe.”

“I love you.”

"I know you do, Az. I know."

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst #azriel x y/n

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torubeth · 1 year ago

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degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)

context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. gojo ver.

✩ ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.

‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.

‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.

correction, you shatter.

somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.

and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.

‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’

quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.

‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.

when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.

‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’

‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.

god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.

‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.

‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.

✩ geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.

‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.

‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.

‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.

‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.

‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.

‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.

‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.

since when did he-?

out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-

‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.

‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.

what the fuck am i doing, he thought.

slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.

‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.

‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.

‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.

his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.

he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.

✩ nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.

‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.

‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.

the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.

he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.

‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.

a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.

slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.

‘sweetheart…? why are you…’

you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.

‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’

his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’

(rblogs appreciated💪🏼)

#bro i’m actually so scared to post this cuz i’ve never written anything like it before god bless #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #geto smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #geto x reader smut #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna smut #geto x reader #nanami smut #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna x reader #nanami kento smut

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lunarcowgirl · 3 months ago

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don't leave me here without you | one

yeah yeah fuck me, jack abbot x f!doctor!reader

you can read part two here and part three here

dr abbot finds your resume and thinks you are leaving the pitt - absolute disgusting and pathetic behaviour ensues, its all very endearing.

~~~

from the office of the author: DOn't even LOOK at me, I'm embarrassed. the pitt consumes my every waking thought so I'm going to make that everyone else's problem :)

this is my very first fic!!! it is a work of fiction!!!!! i do not know anything about being a doctor!!!!!! inaccuracies are none of my damn business!!!!!!!!!!

i can’t help but love the emotional constipation of jack and robby in this show, and i was feeling inspired by jack, so this is my attempt at unpacking a bit of it. reader is indeed reader, but i have formed a bit of a character in my head, so pls forgive me she does get a last name late in the piece. hope you enjoy!!!!! maybe more soon!!!!! <3

warnings: cussing, jack being pathetic, snooping based behaviours, mentions of loss of bodily function/traumatic injuries, mentions of war, mentions of covid, a spider may or not be guilty of a crime, miscommunication i fear, bad grammar from yours truely, bit o' angst

word count: 2.1k

Dr. Jack Abbot thought he was doing a very fine job not staring at you all shift long, thank you very much. It had gotten harder since you’d changed the way you’d done your hair, letting the blonde grow out. When the lights hit the top of your two fastidiously tied french braids it set the crown of your head on fire, like the sun itself sat behind you in some kind of imitation of a halo. angel indeed. You’d pierced your left ear again, yet another little golden hoop in the soft shell of cartilage at the very top. Every now and then, he would see you reach for it, as if to scratch an itch, but catch yourself before you could touch the still healing wound. The smallest, prettiest crease would form between your eyebrows, and your hand would curl into a tight fist of frustration. You were going to be the absolute death of him.

The last trauma had been difficult; damage to the neck not only making finding an airway close to impossible, but suggested a grim future for the patients ability to move as he once did. Walking was now in question. Fucking e-scooters, they were starting to offer up more victims than motorbikes. It had been an excruciating emotional dance to explain to the teenager’s recently widowed mother, that her 15 year old’s life would now be dramatically different, that she was going to have to take on a new burden. The quiet, contained grief in her eyes, not breaking contact with his, was just about all he could take for this shift.

It was easy then, to justify a little bit of gratuitous selfishness in front of the board; the easiest place to catch a glimpse of you. This shift you’d remained calm and switched on, as you always were, but something was clearly scratching at your mind. Standing dutifully behind Jack as he spoke to the mother, gently answering her questions, offering sincere condolences, introducing her to Kiara had all been done with perfect form. but when it was done, you had all but fled back to the nurses’ station, logging onto one of the computers at break neck speed.

This is where you now sat, chin resting on your linked fingers, eyes in a predatory narrow. Without meaning to, without really realising it was happening, Jack let himself drift slowly around the desk. On his journey closer to you he let his hands fall into nonchalant, non-suspicious motion. Adjusting the cord of the landline, running his finger over some forms to see if they needed his signature, flicking on a tablet to consider the chart on it. He didn’t really have the time to think too hard about it, but some small voice in the back of his head told him he looked like a fucking idiot. Jesus Christ, he’d committed now.

To get a decent angle of your screen he would have to step back a little from the desk, making it pretty damn obvious he was snooping. If it was only a glance, just a few seconds, he should be in the clear. Mindful not to get to close (you seemed to have eyes in the back of your head when it came to him, probably since he was your attending), he took one last scan of the room to check no one was clocking every last shuffle he was taking.

Pursing his lips with arms crossed tightly across his chest, he stepped back swiftly, eyes flicking down your screen. The majority of it was taken up by a word document, your name is bold letters across the top. Underneath was a jumble of dot points, places and years and accolades and societies—a resume?

A resume…your resume. You were leaving?

His heart went somersaulting into his stomach, bouncing off his ribs on the way down.

When had you decided this? Where were you going? When were you going to tell him?

Jack felt anger and grief and confusion and jealousy all at once in his veins like some kind of poisonous cocktail. What was he, some kind of teenager? What had he ever done to deserve an explanation from you? You, who was so wonderful and so clever and so funny and so so beautiful. You who had only ever weathered his grumpiness and sour expressions and poorly timed criticism with grace and patience. You who’d never figured out how to be a pessimist, who never let the bad days win. The thought of your absence was more painful than he could have ever expected — it scared him goddamn shitless.

“Dr Abbot?”

Dr Ellis had materialised out of nothing on the other side of the desk, one eyebrow cocked. Jack nearly tripped over his own feet to get away from you and the scalding sensation of shame burning across his face, “Ya?”

“Uh, can I get your eyes on a case in South 15? We’ve got a 10 year old, lethargic, sweaty, confused. Her parents are insistent she hasn’t ingested anything.”

Your head snapped up, finally divorced from whatever hypnotic pull the resume had on you.

“Does she have control over her extremities, fingers?”

Ellis frowned, “She was moving them a lot, almost obsessively. I figured if might just be a reaction to the confusion and being in a strange place.”

You stood in one fluid motion, hands quick to grab a pair of gloves, feet quick to dance around the station to get to Ellis’ side.

“Mind if I join? I think we need to look for a spider bite. Funnel-weavers are usually—”

And with that the pair of you were gone, walking shoulder to shoulder into the fray like soldiers in arms, conversing in low, practised tones. Ready to tackle whatever the inside of that room held; the scariness of having to diagnose quickly, the stress of terrified parents breathing down your neck. It didn’t matter how bitter-of-heart Jack had become after all the years of carnage, there was still a part of him that sang at the sight of a well-oiled team. It was selfish, he considered, to believe your leaving would effect just him. Every last doctor, nurse, support worker, radiologist, technician, transport aide, frequent flyer and desk clerk would mourn your loss. Perhaps the endearing Mel King most of all. She had taken to your cheerful demeanour and calm teaching style like someone drowning does to oxygen. In the time Langdon had been a voluntary inpatient, you had been a much needed rock in the stormy wake of that revelation. Another loss could send her off kilter again, and the ER needed her…badly.

So where exactly were you planning to run off to? Surely you wouldn’t go overseas again, not after what had brought you home the last time...

Morality was telling him to just walk away, to busy himself in some problem that likely was currently yearning for his help.

They hadn’t reached out had they? Could they convince you to go back?

He wished Bridget would just call for him, that Shen would bustle in with all his careful questions. But wishing would not make it so. And he had fought so long, all his life. The older he became, the easier it was to just surrender. To drift. The computer was about to fall asleep, locking it to the world. One swift movement of the mouse sealed his fate. He was a shameless snoop, a betrayer of privacy - your privacy.

It couldn’t be denied, the resume was impressive. Very, very impressive. How many graduating honours could one 30 something year old have? And the places you’d been, you’d practised - how many names could you possibly stack next to each other? Some of them he hadn’t even seen with his eyes, even after all the time in the camouflage pants that chaffed like you wouldn’t believe. You’d seen the very worst Covid had served up in Mexico City and Rio, you had been at the very front in Ukraine, in Afghanistan, traipsed all the way across North Africa and South America and just about every island in Indonesia. Pittsburgh, even with its fair share of tragedy, felt so foreign on the page next to all the adventure and danger. It would be easy to think that you had simply become bored, and wished once again to go somewhere that you could stem the flow of blood. Jack thought the blue beret would match the new blonde hair quite nicely.

“Dr Abbot?”

He froze. That voice. How long had he been staring at the carefully typed words, wishing they would reveal an answer?

There was no way, no way at all that he could gracefully and silently retreat from this one. He was elbow deep in the cookie jar, no better than a child, spited at not being told the grown up’s secret. He looked behind himself with humiliating slowness, feeling infinitely small and ashamed. The small crease between your brows had deepened into a valley he could not dig himself out of.

“Dr James.” He said, his voice sounding all together too loud and too far away, “If you are walking away from a computer in any circumstance other than a complete emergency, you must log off, there is confidential information of patients that must be protected from wandering eyes.”

“Wandering eyes?” You let a laugh escape, entirely hollow.

And then, with more steel then he had ever heard, “Can I speak with you privately for a minute?”

“Fine.” He said, straightening with an angry click from his back. Too old for all this high school shit. You made a point to lean past him, and log off with a few aggressively passive aggressive snaps of the keys.

He trailed behind your long, mechanical strides, deeply unsettled by the stiff set of your shoulders. Maybe you’d developed the ability to be negative in the time to took to stomp from the nurses’ station to the family room door, which you promptly shoulder charged open. Once it was safely closed behind both doctors, you whirled on him.

“What the hell were you doing looking at that?”

“Like I said, you need to log off—”

“Bullshit, Jack!” You looked wild, eyes impossibly wide, “There was no reason for your face to be 2 inches from the screen to log me out. Or have your eyes completely given out since the start of shift?”

If there was no way to dodge the bullet, he may as well try swallowing it, “What exactly do you plan on doing with that document? You gonna flee the country again? Run from all us sorry fucks here in the Pitt?”

You recoiled, like the venom in his words had actually struck your skin. Jack watched them sink in, the sizzle of their marks.

You shook your head once, looking down at your sneakers, the 10-year-too-old linoleum floors.

“I can’t believe you. I cannot believe you.” The words were pulled straight from your chest at the end of meat hooks.

Jack opened his mouth to strike again, but your gaze shot upwards and locked onto his. The attacks died on his tongue.

“All I have done since I set foot in here was try and get close to you Jack Abbot. I have offered you my full attention, my utter respect and confidence and trust, all my effort, all my energy, everything I have.” You took an incredulous step backwards, unsteadied by your own words and the weight of them now sitting between you, “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, I would ride right on back into all the shit and misery all over again if that is what you asked of me.”

Something that looked frighteningly like a tear slipped down your cheek and off your chin.

“And what do you offer in return? You push and push and push me away.” The words wobbled now, exhausted from the revelation.

“What right do you have,” You gasped, “to now act betrayed about this? To declare you’ve always cared? Like its me that’s hurting you?!”

Killshot.

Jack’s mouth pressed into a hard line, a terrible burning spreading through the back of his eyes, a horrible pressure on his chest. All that time he had been pretending not to look at you, you had been staring straight through him into his very soul. Seeing every ugly inch of his insides. He wanted to run, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness at your feet.

Bridget rapped sharply on the door of the window, her face grave, “Car pileup on the highway, multiple traumas, 4 minutes out.”

By the time he turned back to you, your face had been schooled back into cool neutrality, a deep breath filling your lungs. Before Jack could reach out and touch you, you were gone, like you were never even there.

~~~~~

um, so yeah I guess? more soon! x

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#the pitt #jack abbot #jack abbott #the pitt fanfiction #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #jack abbot fanfiction #jack abbot angst #the pitt angst #dr abbott #dr abbott x you #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x female reader #persiewrites

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