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phantovia · 4 months

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♦︎ from : the opera epiclese.

synopsis. the five stages: interest, enlightenment, infatuation, falling in love, and lastly— decision. to say that these five stages aligned with your progressing relationship with the peculiar magician in fontaine was a grave understatement. the heart wants what it wants, and it wanted him. (repost!!)

to: @rainswept @ryuryuryuyurboat @boykissr @meidnightrain ( taglist ↲ click link to sign up! )

♠︎ | title : 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. wc. 5.4k tw: none.

i. stage one : interest. the first stage can be described as many things: the overture, the beginning, but one does not miss how an inexplicable intrigue takes hold. this is the genesis of a crush.

besides trials, the opera epiclese served as a stage for a variety of performances. according to luzerne, the receptionist, lyney and lynette’s magic show was one of the more popular acts in the opera house.

upon entry after hesitantly purchasing a ticket, luzerne’s words replayed in your mind — the keyword ‘popular’ stood out like a thorn in her sentence. even with her dreamy sighs and gaze filled with admiration, there was no doubt that her words were as truthful as her ginger hair.

the raised seating sections of the grand, multi-leveled opera house were filled to the brim — with people wearing starstruck expressions and waiting in anticipation. the people seated next to you were so dazed, despite the goal of the show being to successfully deceive their twinkling eyes.

you felt out of place, unable to believe the charm the twins possessed to have the audience at their beck and call.

the lights in the confined space darkened, and the spotlight was casted upon the two. the assistant was a female whose feline features made her unique and fascinating — carrying a softened voice and dark violet colored eyes that would appear hollow and contain a certain nothingness. but the male.. he was her opposite, her contrasting counterpart, a magician with a mischievous grin and flowery words as his weapon.

at least, you thought so. his eyes were a lighter shade of violet, clear and full of flamboyance. yet, his eyes seemed as if they held more nothingness than his sister’s. he seemed like he had more to hide.

your own irises followed the movement of lyney’s hands as he moved his fingers in an intricate manner to bend a card to his will. swift movements with what were supposed to be made of regular plastic — made objects appear. first it was a simple teacup of porcelain, then a mechanical penguin, followed by a card with the design of a piece of jewelry that belonged to an audience member.

as soon as the other’s heads turned to the stage, lyney had already prepared his next move — holding said jewelry with a cheeky grin. with the snap of his fingers, the object of pristine value had disappeared, returning to the person who once wore it.

lyney unveils a mysterious box, explaining that it is the portal through which he will perform the ultimate teleportation. he invites a random audience member to inspect the box for any hidden compartments or tricks. once satisfied, lyney places the selected card, the vanished handkerchief, and the dove inside the box.

as the audience holds its breath, lyney dramatically opens the box. to everyone's astonishment, the chosen card, the handkerchief, and the dove have all vanished. the lights flicker, and suddenly, lyney appears at the back of the courthouse, holding the vanished items in his hands.

but yours were focused on his expression, the slightest jittering of his hands caught your attention more than the trick did.

as soon as the other’s heads turned to the stage, lyney had already prepared his next trick — holding one of the audience member’s precious jewelry. with the snap of his fingers, the object of pristine value had disappeared, returning to the person who once wore it.

the audience erupts in applause and cheers, marveling at the magical journey they've just experienced. the magician takes a bow, leaving the audience with a sense of wonder and disbelief in the face of the extraordinary — that was a magician’s natural talent. therein lies the beauty of it all.

the performance was magical in its own right, chaotic and mysterious. it held enough stunts to have the people questioning how they were done, with interviewers bursting with questions by the end of it.

you noticed how you accidentally left your umbrella in your seat, rushing to retrieve it — a fear of an umbrella theft taking place in the opera epiclese was not as irrational as some would think.

“is this umbrella yours, by chance?”

his smooth voice and charming smile made you pause. for a second, you felt nerves in your stomach — swallowing any unauthorized thoughts before nodding. “yeah, that’s mine.. must’ve left it in my seat.” you responded quietly, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“you did, but don’t worry — there won’t be any theft here on my watch.” he reassured before placing the umbrella in your hands. the moment he saw your eyebrow raising, he let out a chuckle. “you look a tad bit nervous, that’s why i assumed — unless it’s my presence causing such nerves?”

his grin only widened at his own words.

“no, just fear that i’ll be drenched in the rain and wake up feeling sick the next morning,” you retorted immediately, yet his grin never faltered.

“hehe — of course, of course.. you’ve just been coming to my shows quite often, that specfic seat is always occupied.” his tone was lighthearted and carefree, causing your heart rate to decrease a little.

“i’d say you’re quite intrigued by me, no?”

“by you? no, it’s just your tricks i’m interested in.” the way he put his thumb and index finger under his chin as if contemplating tells you that he didn’t buy your lie.

“your eyes usually don’t wander to where the happenings of my tricks are, they’re constantly on me — it’s not good to lie, you know?” he quipped, and your eyes only averted to the floor which made his smile turn into a smirk.

your embarrassment was evident, but he wouldn’t want you to become uncomfortable in his presence so he backtracks. “don’t worry — i'm not making fun of you or anything of the sort. in fact, i think your interest in me is a form of praise in itself.”

“really? a form of praise..?”

“you focus more on the artist rather than the art.. hm, that itself intrigues me as well.”

his body language gives away that his words are sincere, but given his position in society — a man meant to lie and wait in the pool of falsity, you were uncertain.

he crosses his arms, keeping his posture straight and poised. “i hope to see your seat occupied during my next show, but until then.. i see that you have places to be. i bid you farewell, and hope you have a pleasant day.”

he waved you goodbye, but the moment you stepped outside — you were met with the sight of pastel petals and a green stem in your bag. “how interesting.” you mused.

ii. stage two : enlightenment. with understanding comes development, as the seat in the opera epiclese continues to be cushioned specifically for you — leading to a blooming friendship between you and the magician whose presence fills you with more questions than answers.

“hey, i didn’t see you yesterday.” he pouts, finding his most precious audience member’s seat empty was not the most pleasant sight he could’ve seen — and you were left to deal with the aftermath.

it wasn’t often that you’d have to deal with a pouty magician, but whenever such an occurrence did happen — your eyes were glued onto his expression, watching as it changes depending on your words. “sorry, i was pretty busy and forgot to buy a ticket..”

he stared into your eyes for a few seconds, before his signature grin etched onto his face. “hm.. not to worry, i happen to have a ticket right here.” he turns and directed the softest smile at you, sliding a ticket in your direction; your surprise was evident, and the grip on the teacup’s handle tightened slightly.

“you’re giving it to me?” you decided to question, placing the teacup back onto the table with utmost care. lyney let out a laugh at your disbelief, quirking a brow at how your expression was one of shock.

“of course, who else would i give it to?” he questioned back, leaving you with many possible candidates in your head — but knowing the esteemed magician quite well by now; he’d have several responses at his feet to reassure you otherwise.

far across — a few tables away, you could hear the sounds of giggles and endless chattering. their eyes were set on you two as if you were a prey of gossip. you tensed, lifting the teacup to your awaiting lips to distract yourself from their quips with the taste of tea leaves.

“don’t mind them,” he suddenly suggested, though it sounded more of a command that was merely spoken in a softer tone than anything else. “if they feel the need to gossip, let them. indulging in the past-time of mentioning other people before reflecting on themselves is rather common practice.. unfortunately.”

you could’ve sworn you heard him stifle a yawn mid-sentence.

“are you tired?” your voice revealed your concern, much to his dismay.

“caught me red-handed, just.. please don’t mention this to lynette — she’d scold me a new one.” he pleaded, and the obvious exhaustion made the thought of the gossiping spectators be sent to the back of your mind.

“were you practicing late again?” another question that left him with a guilty conscience.

“well.. it isn’t as if i could practice a trick once and master it immediately.”

“i know.. but you can’t keep skipping days of rest either,” you gently scolded, a wave of concern hitting you at the sight of newly found under-eye bags.

he only lets out a faint sigh, a frown creasing on his face as you gently take his source of consciousness — coffee, and place it on the opposite end of the table.

“and this isn’t a healthy solution.” you continued with a voice carrying a tint of worry.

“go home and sleep, lyney.”

“but.. i still have a performance later.”

“take a nap, replenish your energy — otherwise you’ll be ridiculed for having the appearance of a literal zombie.”

he laid his head on the table, his frown only deepening at the offense he felt from your comment. “but being in the company of such a lovely friend as yourself is already replenishing my energy.”

“how touching, now get up.. please?” now you were the one to plead, but with good reasoning — to your defense.

he contemplated for a few seconds, weighing the pros and cons of listening to your rather commonplace advice. his involuntary pout returned, and you had a feeling he was going to make a deal of sorts. “if you promise to come to my show today, i’ll go home.”

you almost snorted at his persistence to have you in his audience, but you kept your impending giggles to yourself before nodding. “alright, i promise.”

his eyes were rapidly blinking, as if in an attempt to keep himself awake. you were staring longer than a friend ever should, that was for certain. your index finger gently tapped on his nose, causing his eyes to settle onto your face. “go home.” you repeated.

he let out a yawn before rising from his seat, waving you farewell as his steps became quieter until his silhouette was nowhere in sight.

another two stems of rainbow roses made their presence known in your bag, multi-colored petals emphasizing its beauty. your fingers subconsciously twiddled the stems, a giddy smile appearing on your face — the warming of your chest and the prolonged stare at its pinkish color made your mind race. you hoped he enjoyed the small gift you left in his hat.

it wasn’t just you with the feeling of newfound joy in your heart, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a small transparent bag tied with a red bow — its contents making his expression grow soft. cubic jellies, one of the many desserts that he had the habit of bringing to his workplace — and one that you remembered.

iii. stage three : infatuation. sparks begin to fly, fluttery, exciting sensation in the stomach — intense desire, heightened sensitivity… daydreams and fantasies cloud your judgement. to be infatuated means to experience both euphoria and fear. to be infatuated means to seek more than you’re being given.

you dreamed of him that night.

his twinkling amethysts mock you in your daydreams, his charming grin garners your prolonged gaze — and you find yourself attracted to him. the magician was a tease, even when he’s simply crossing his legs and asking for your opinion on his newest trick.

all of your objectivity heads out of the window by that point. all you can think about is how to praise his hard work, even if he reassures you that any kind of criticism is welcome.

shuffling a deck of cards, his eyes dart from the props on the table to your expression — waiting for any reaction. “so, my dearest audience member.. what did you think of that last one? i do think i need more practice before my next performance—”

“it was perfect.”

to say that lyney was surprised at this was an understatement.

your praises never came so quickly, he wasn’t even able to finish his sentence because words of awe and admiration escaped your throat. it was as if you weren’t even thinking before you spoke (which was completely the case). it wasn’t your fault that his handiwork was so compelling, alluring to the eyes as much as his face was. there wasn’t any room to think, only to stare, only to scan his every feature.

“oh? is that so? you don’t need to sugarcoat it so much — i can take it!” his smooth voice carries a hint of teasing, adding to your current stress of having words pop out of your mouth quicker than your mind could comprehend. great, now he thinks you weren’t being genuine.

“i’m being serious, i didn’t see anything wrong with it.” you decided to respond, hoping he took your words seriously and perhaps even complimented you in return.

lyney only looks confused, causing your head to ache out of nervous anticipation.

“thank you for the praise, but trust me... i do need more practice. after all, i ended up forgetting a prop during this practice session..” he concluded with a chuckle.

he did? you hadn’t even noticed. you felt so incredibly stupid. of course, he wasn’t looking for praise — but honest judgment. ‘flowery words in this scenario were not the right call’, you noted.

that was only one of many examples of the disaster that came with infatuation.

idealism was the one-way ticket to a world of hurt, and you wished that you could use your head instead of your eyes — projecting your every desire and fantasy onto him. he was a mystery even after months of friendship. you felt as if you barely knew a thing about the object of your affection — and that alone made your heartache.

in your mind, his every mistake was to be overlooked — he was perfect through your rose-colored glasses. that was what you were sticking with, to make up for the lack of knowledge you had on the magician. he appeared in every dream, filling your mind with rose petals and heart-shaped eyes. that wasn’t reality, you were being sucked into a world of illusion.

that, and his flowery tongue was less than helpful. you often wondered what he was thinking whenever he spoke to you that way. did he mean any of it, or was it all a farce? you truly never knew, and perhaps that was his goal.

it seems that your attempts at being subtle were going south by the minute, teases from your friends about your relationship with him made you groan, and their giggles and quips.. all of it was more conflicting if anything.

“so, you and lyney?” one chirped with eyes sparkling with mischievous intent, gathering the gazes of the rest of the group who had their mouths agape.

you had no choice but to shake your head, feeling your stomach twisting in an unfamiliar manner — all while your friends sat in waiting for an explanation you didn’t even have in hand.

“me and lyney what?” it was the safest dialogue option, creating open room for conversation — yet revealing their true intentions with such a question that they were bound to respond honestly to. it was a mere attraction, something that would pass with time. at least, you desperately hoped it did.

“are you two going out?”

such a question was absurd, even to your ears. you only found him attractive, and you’d make that sentiment clear to prevent any misunderstandings and possible rumors. “no, i just find him attractive... i don’t like him like that though.”

your voice was firm, filled with confidence that you were completely uncertain of. it seemed that they got the hint, as their expressions changed from curiosity to understanding, with slight concern as well — you noticed.

but it seemed that there was one that decided to continue to push, hoping for something to satisfy their desire for the knowledge of your relationship with the magician.

judging stares, nudging shoulders — perhaps they didn’t get the hint after all. “are you sure?” they inquired further, seeming like someone akin to a journalist about to branch out on their next exclusive.

were you sure? your stomach churned at the thought of yourself being uncertain; you had to be, there was no other choice. the grip on your clothing grew tighter, and the moment you turned to face your friend — all you could do was give an affirmative nod. “i’m certain.”

iv. stage four : falling in love. when the feeling settles in at a random moment as if waking up from a nightmare that sends your heart pounding — a realization that has that same effect. what hits you first isn’t joy, it’s panic.

you were not certain.

as you lay in bed that night, you recall your conversation with your friends — and mentally curse yourself for having the slightest doubt that lyney and his enticing demeanor didn’t make your heart warm and race.

his every move was a magic trick, and his audience was your aching heart that yearned for him. you often wondered what it was, what about him excited you so much. what was it that made him appear in your every dream? twiddling your fingers as you sat in your bed, you demanded yourself to believe that what you felt was an illusion.

but it wasn’t, being in his mere presence lifted your mood more than anything or anyone else; then there was the giddy feeling that overwhelmed your senses, the rush of emotions you earned from his every woven word. all of it was replaced with a heavy guilt and fear.

what were you meant to do now?

it wasn’t as if you could confess, your blood ran cold at the mention of spilling your everlasting line of emotional distress because you liked lyney to anyone. it was as if you were chasing an impossible goal, with no path opened to go to next. helplessness felt with every breath you drew. hurt, etched with every doubt in your mind that lyney most likely didn’t return the sentiment.

how could you possibly be hopeful at a time like this?

lyney was a perceptive person, able to read a person’s emotions from their micro-expressions, using their emotional leakage to expose one’s true intentions and feelings through a mere gaze. of course, you were no exception.

lynette, as peculiar as one might find her, had a similar talent of such. which is exactly why you caught her eye in particular. as usual, lyney never failed to mention his day-to-day endeavors to her, much to her (slight) delight. once your name escaped his lips, she was already intrigued. his description, while dramatic, gave her enough curiosity to watch over your conversations with him — her results? she finds them to be more surprising than usual.

at first, her mind drifted to you being simply attracted, not thinking too much in depth about the words you’d use or how your cheeks would redden at even the slightest charming comment. it was rather common for someone’s behavior toward the object of admiration, at least she thought so.

fascination was a usual occurrence, especially for someone as eccentric as lyney. he attracted the attention of those he met, created a suave impression — and kept it up for as long as possible. lynette wasn’t a stranger to such things, she’d seen it happen one too many times to count.

she prefers to use her eyes to understand the situation and find an appropriate solution, usually. though this matter was more complex, the more she used her eyes, the more insight she’d have on your feelings — oftentimes, she’d stay quiet during your conversations with her brother simply to observe your mannerisms around him, and she couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow on more than one occasion.

“hm, these animals seem to enjoy your company more than mine — tis a tragedy.” the magician tuts, gently touching the snow-white fur of one of the bunnies used in his eccentric shows. you were hung on his every word, your finger gently tapping on the bunny’s nose — causing its ears to twitch. “aw, we’ll i’m honored.”

the moment your gaze left the bunny and landed on his eyes, lynette couldn’t help but notice the slightest quirk of the corner of your lips or how your fingers fidgeted — signs of nerves, she recalled.

“my, it seems that they certainly are quite fond of you — presenting you with something of utmost value..” he beamed, looking pleased with himself as you heightened an eyebrow. “notice anything different about our little friend here?”

your pupils dilated once your eyes set on the bunny once more, carrying a rainbow rose in between its teeth — the moment you moved your hand closer, the animal dropped the plant into your palm. your breath hitched, unable to control the sudden rush of euphoria and the sound of your heart pounding against your chest, threatening to burst.

perhaps it was a better idea not to look so awestruck by a stem and petals, clearing your throat as you keep your gaze on the furred animal instead of your friend. “a rainbow rose..?”

“only befitting, if i do say so myself.”

his comment only made you swallow, the urge to bite your lip in embarrassment was strong, yet you resisted — lest you appear as a lovesick fool in his eyes. that was the absolute last thing you wanted.

with a flourish of his arms and lilac embers staring into the very corners of your soul, you found yourself completely lost in the allure of his gaze. “i used a lumidouce bell last time we spoke, remember? it’s only natural that i upgrade your little gift~!”

he wasn’t good for your heart, not in the slightest; and one day, you sincerely hoped he’d see that as well. his smile held a certain kind of elation that you’ve never seen before, enough to make your heart melt into a puddle. lynette could only imagine what you must be thinking, and even she’d begun to ponder how deep your feelings went if her interpretation held any accuracy.

after such an interaction came to a close, with lyney adjusting his hat as you walked away — lynette’s footsteps were barely audible as she appeared next to you. your eyes landed on her blank expression immediately, wondering why she wasn’t heading in the same direction as her twin. “did you need anything?”

“you.. like him, don’t you?”

her question was enough to halt the rapid beating of your heart. whether to be honest or not was completely up to you, yet — hiding in cowardice and dishonesty was not on your agenda, you’d realized that ever since you came to terms with your battling emotions.

“i do.” was all you could answer her, unknowing what to expect from the half-feline — though, a harsh scolding was completely out of the question and out of character for lynette anyway.

lynette only pulled at the hem of her sleeve, and you could only assume she was contemplating on what to say. “i see, i figured as much.. your behavior lined up.”

you were confused as to whether you should feel offended or joyful at her words, knowing that you weren’t the most subtle — but then again, who could deceive lynette’s eyes and ears?

you were about to speak up when lynette cut to the chase and nodded. “are you certain that you do..?”

were you certain? you’ve asked yourself this countless times, having played a sequence of contemplation, contradictory thoughts, guilt, and finally, acceptance all in your head; you were lost and being forced to deal with a desire for even another second simply being next to him, what you wouldn’t give to hear his voice every second of every day. were you absolutely certain that this phase was truly different?

lynette stared at you expectantly, you had no doubt that she saw the hesitance and worry written all over your face — but your answer remained the same, it was what you answered to your friends when you came to the wrong conclusion, but this time was in complete contrast. “i’m certain.”

v. stage five : decision. the decision stage is naturally the hardest, the most important and the most impactful. it’s the phase that sets the stage for you two — one that determines it all with only a few words.

in your eyes, there was a one-sided nervous tension in the air. a confession loomed, weighed down by unspoken words for too long — your world was crackled with vulnerability, a loop of anger directed at yourself, as well as sharp pangs of pain at how heavy your heartfelt because of the condemnation that was love.

at the center of it all was lyney, a burial of your feelings was in order — yet they would resurface every time he said with his smooth voice. it felt almost eerie, how quickly he could make you let out both chuckles or bitterness and joy. apart of you felt so incredibly warm, the feeling that you once thought was fleeting — led on for months. it was impossible to suppress, challenging to hide, and hurtful to keep silent.

your throat begged for the day when you would spill every thought that crossed your mind whenever you saw his face. begged for the opportunity to be able to swoon whenever he combed his unruly hair back with a grin, begged for you to release the tension in your body if only by saying “i love you.”

A delicate dance of revelation and acceptance was what it was, the syllables almost escaped your tongue on too many occasions — and your emotions were beginning to become bothersome to keep in control. your mind splurged with imagery, your hand reaching to touch his gloved ones, and how your heart yearned for his attention.. it was out of bounds to even have these thoughts occur.

guilt, at the concept of pushing your feelings onto another and praying to every archon that they’re reciprocated. to you, that sounded unfair — and unjust. acceptance, that your feelings were true and uncomfortable, yet it was what your disposition felt entitled to have, it’s the path you’re set to follow whether you approve or not. hope that perhaps pouring every mumble and verb onto him would earn you a softened gaze instead of a stare of concern and judgment.

perhaps he’ll say “i love you.” in return instead of “i’m sorry.” — that he would acknowledge you and save you from crumbling sorrow buried under the label of heartache.

would it be able to handle rejection? would you be able to recover from such a thing? how will you face him after? what would you say?

the thought of weight being placed off of you through unspoken truths, destroying that invisible barrier of transparency, revealing authenticity through hardened exteriors — both scared you and elated you.

you’d wonder what it would feel if it was all placed off of your chest for him to carry for you.

your eyes searched his lilac ones, your legs almost touching as he performed another trick for you — a routine you’ve gotten used to (minus your rapidly beating heart). “Magic has a way of revealing the hidden, don’t you think?” lyney mused, his eyes locking onto yours as your gaze averted to his cards — clenching your right hand instinctively.

you could only nod, following along with his deft hands making the cards made out of plastic seem like the most interesting thing in the world. “it’s like unveiling secrets one at a time, it’s.. more than just illusions.”

“you have quite the keen eye, watch carefully now.. blink, and you might miss it,” he warned with a cheeky smile, asking you to choose a card — emphasizing that you hold a special connection to the card you chose.

after shuffling the deck, lyney’s eyes close tightly — before picking a card and handing it back to you. opening one of his eyes as if winking, he only smiled at you before inquiring, “is this your card?”

you stare at the card with a rose symbol embedded into it, recalling that it was the exact card you had picked before. “it is, what now?”

he chuckled, reminding you that patience is a virtue — he placed a hand above the card, his fingers not coming into direct contact with it. after a second, the card began to levitate, much to your awe and confusion.

unfortunately for you, his eyes were as captivating as ever, drawing your attention from his hands. your ever-growing line of questions extends the moment a rose appears from the card, landing on your palm. your eyes widened with amazement, “how did you—”

“i did tell you to watch carefully, didn’t i?” he responded with a smirk forming on his face, causing you to give him an unamused stare.

“come now, don’t give me that look..” he feigned a look of defeat, much to your dismay — though, you had to admit that his expression was oddly adorable.

“i wouldn’t have been able to catch it even if i did watch carefully,” you retorted, keeping your eyes focused on the rose’s petals to check for authenticity — confirming that the rose was more real than your feelings for the magician.

“guess that’s one secret i’m afraid you won’t get to catch.” he hummed, evidently content with his actions while you couldn’t hold back the urge to roll your eyes. your nerves were subtle, and you couldn’t bear to think of lyney’s reaction when he found out what you were planning to say soon.

you took a deep breath, yet his expression was still lighthearted and peaceful — his eyes glimmered with something else.. not the nothingness that remained when you first met, but pure and wholehearted contentment. he didn’t look as if he were hiding, cowering, or even hesitant. his eyes were filled with the determination you wish you owned.

“speaking of secrets, there’s one i’ve been keeping, and tonight — the stage is set to reveal it. would you like to know?” he placed a hand under his chin, crossing his legs as you blinked. “a secret?”

“one i’m surprised you haven’t caught onto yet, yes.” he reaffirmed, his expression softening and his smile growing slightly wider. this was nothing you’ve ever seen from him.

“what is it?” you inquired, your voice barely above a whisper — as if your earlier fears were resurfacing. your fingers tightened around your sleeve, biting your tongue and anticipating his next words with newfound anxiety.

“i love you.”

the rose rested on your lap, a spur of emotions hitting you all at once — you opened your mouth to speak, to say anything, but once again.. lyney rendered you completely speechless.

the props were witnesses to the development that you weren’t expecting, such a gentle voice and three words filled with elation and affection. his eyes were twinkling with redamancy, awaiting the answer that you were certain he would have anticipated.

his hand shifted closer to you, opening it to reveal his gloved palm. “if you’d have me.. i’d like to be more than friends.. how does that sound, my dear companion?”

nothing could capture the nuance that accompanied the present moment, as your throat betrayed you and your voice cracked. “i love you too.” you hadn’t meant to come off as meek, but the beamed look on his face was enough for you to overlook your little setback. it felt as if you’ve made his entire world with one sentence that echoed in the air for at most, two seconds.

“then,” his fingers lingered on yours, tugging slightly until your hand fit in his own. “allow us to create our own authentic performance that lasts.. forever, what say you?”

#lyney x reader #lyney x gender neutral reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #astronetwrk

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hazelnutsforellie · 1 year

Text

genesis | e. williams ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

PAIRING— jackson!ellie williams x fem!reader

SUMMARY— ellie has had feelings for you for a while... and finally opening up to you leads to many unexpected things, such as you teaching ellie how to ride for the first time

WARNINGS— nsfw, smut [18+], reader pleasing ellie, strap usage, shy & slightly bratty ellie, friends to lovers, mutual pining, jealous reader, sexual tension, top!reader, bottom!ellie, hair pulling, hickeys, nipple play, fingering (e rec), oral (e rec), overstim, the works, not proofread per usual.

WC— 6.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE— i got a few requests for bottom ellie and whipped this up over many late nights listening to genesis by grimes on repeat xx

TAGLIST: @kurosaaki @bellswlw @evanpetersluver @prrimordiais @urlocalgingersnap

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You saw her often. The witty auburn that your friend, Dina, would not stop talking about every time they'd get back from patrol. Ellie. The girl you've had a secret crush on ever since she arrived to Jackson. You were aware of Dina's feelings for the girl, but you couldn't change the way you felt, even if you wanted to.

Ellie's tough on the outside, which only draws you closer to her. Your adoration was hard to ignore, mainly because you've had a suspicion that she feels the same way. There was a particular moment that had you question everything.

You thickly swallowed, gently shaking your hand to swirl the liquor in your glass as your eyes moved back and forth. Standing at the bar, you leaned to press your back against the solid wood, sighing to yourself. The one person you hoped would show up couldn't even talk to you, getting dragged away from the bar to the dance floor by Dina before you could finish greeting her. Dina managed to sweet talk you into going to the winter dance to begin with, located at the church in the center of town.

You silently watched Dina and Ellie slow dance as you stood by the bar, until it happened. Dina slowly leaned in, capturing Ellie's lips into a kiss.

You felt angry. You could not believe that Dina had kissed Ellie, despite never telling Dina about your infatuation with the auburn haired girl to begin with. You couldn’t necessarily blame Dina. Hell, you wanted Ellie just as bad. You were too afraid to make a move first, worried that you were going to ruin your friendship. Of course, right?

The part that stuck out to you, was what happened after Dina kissed her. From where they were dancing, Dina’s back was facing you and you could see Ellie’s face. You tried to avert your gaze elsewhere, not wanting her to catch you staring. You couldn’t help but capture a glance every so often as they danced, though. When Dina kissed her, you just so happened to be looking, and you noticed Ellie’s eyes widen as if she had seen a ghost. When they pulled away from each other, Ellie looked at… you.

You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t care. You were upset, as anyone would be if they saw someone kiss the person they wanted to call their own. A sigh blew from your nose as you avoided Ellie’s gaze, downing the rest of your drink before lighting placing the glass down on the bar top. You weren’t particularly a fan of gatherings to begin with, let alone a dance.

You didn’t waste time heading for the front door of the church, waving and fake-smiling goodbyes to your friends on your way until you reached Jesse, who was conveniently by the door. He was leaned up against the wall, sweet talking a girl — most likely to shoot back at Dina.

“Hey, I’m heading out,” you advised, pointing toward the door with your thumb. Jesse stopped talking to the girl, you weren’t sure what her name was, and quirked a brow at you.

“Already? It just started,” Jesse nearly whined, pulling himself off the side of the wall.

“It’s been over an hour,” you deadpanned, your hooded eyes narrowing, "-and I didn’t say you had to leave with me.”

Jesse’s eyebrows raised, taken aback by the clear anger that rolled off your tongue. He didn’t take it personally, nodding in understanding. You then nodded back, backing up by a couple steps to grab your coat off the rack beside the door before making your way outside.

Ellie was hard to read. When you would see her around Jackson, she would make sure she saw you too. As if she was looking around, waiting to see you pass by just to get a glance at you. You were friends, but you weren’t extremely close. You knew each other’s interests, and had a fair share of deep conversations, but you were never close. To be fair, Ellie wasn't close with anyone.

Ellie seemed shy around you, wanting to hear all about you and not a peep about herself. Sure, she would tell you stories here and there, but she always wanted to learn more about you each time she saw you. It was flattering, really. You thought she was charismatic, and it made her that much more attractive.

You were silent your entire walk home, your skin frosting as the ice-cold weather consumed you. Your nose was burning red, light sniffles sounding above your lips as your boots crunched on the snow below you. All you could think about was how you let your chance slip between your fingers. You had many chances, actually. You were just afraid.

After you had left the church, Ellie looked to Jesse with a curious expression. Dina still had her arms wrapped around her from kissing her, but her grip slowly released when she realized Ellie’s attention was no longer on her.

“I’ll, uh… fuck. I’ll be right back,” Ellie mustered, giving Dina an assuring nod. Dina furrowed her brows in bewilderment, but Ellie didn’t give her a chance to say anything before she was heading for the church doors. She completely forgot to grab her jacket from the rack, making Jesse look to Dina in surprise.

Instead of heading after you, Ellie went home. She was upset, mainly with herself. She cursed under her breath as she walked, unable to stop thinking that she had quite possibly ruined any chance she had. Even though she was walking through inches of snow without a jacket, her adrenaline was warming her body just enough to make it home.

Unbeknownst to you, or anyone for that matter, Ellie had feelings for you. Hell, she was surprised you couldn’t tell. The way she would get nervous when you would playfully wink at her after saying a joke. The way she would feel her cheeks burn, and she would turn her head away from you for a moment to prevent you from catching a glimpse.

Ellie tried to act cool around you, as you would say. You had to admit that it was cute, though. You could tell that she just wanted to impress you, and you wished you could tell her that you were already far past that. The problem was, you simply took it as her being your friend.

When Ellie made it inside her studio home in Joel’s backyard, she immediately made her way toward her desk. She took a seat on her desk chair, her elbows landing on the solid wood of the table as she wiped her eyes with her hands. A groan fell from her lips while she remembered what happened at the dance, grimacing to herself.

She dropped her hands back down to the desk, where her journal was resting. She wasted no time peeling it open and flipping to the next available page, picking up a stray pen before writing down her thoughts. It was the best way for her to express how she felt.

I can’t believe Dina kissed me… not that I don’t like Dina or anything. I’m scared. I’m… anxious. I don’t know if I should sleep it off… Did she see her kiss me?

Ellie’s hand halted as she thought, letting a deep sigh escape her nose before she continued.

Of course this shit would happen to me. I never meant to make Dina think I wanted anything more than friendship. Fuck... I just wish she didn't kiss me. I have to fix it, right? Is she upset? She's seemed upset. She stormed out...

Ellie read over the inked lines over and over again before finally slamming her journal closed, standing from her desk chair. She made her way over to her closet, changing out of her button up and into a grey hoodie. She didn't bother grabbing a jacket to wear over it, knowing that it was only a two minute walk.

"I can do this," she whispered to herself, pulling the hoodie down her frame until it reached just below the waistline of her jeans. She then made her way over to her door, not allowing herself to hesitate or else she would overthink it and isolate herself.

Ellie wiped her clammy hands on her jeans, nervously sweating through the crisp air as she stared at your front door. Your place was fairly similar to hers, having built it yourself with your friends in an old garage.

Just do it, she thought. She huffed before raising her hand to your wooden door, firmly tapping her knuckles against it. Her heartbeat fastened when she heard shuffling from the other side, suddenly becoming more anxious. What am I doing?

Ellie's inner voice came to a halt when she heart the deadbolt lock turn, followed by the door squeaking open. Her eyes instantly met yours, her breath hitching in her throat. She had suddenly forgotten why she wanted to see you in the first place, panicking that you would turn her away.

You could tell that she was shivering, despite her efforts to keep her body still. You wanted to snicker from how stubborn she was, refusing to wear a jacket no matter how short of a walk it is.

“Ellie?” you shivered from the sudden burst of cold air, the high winds noisily shaking your cabin home. You noticed Ellie's change in outfit, seeing she was no longer in her button down that she wore at the dance, but was now wearing a grey hoodie. Ellie's lips parted as if she was going to speak, but nothing came out but a breath.

"Hey, are you... are you okay?" you asked, furrowing your brows in concern.

“I just… wanted to come address… some things,” Ellie clearly struggled to find her words, moving her hands as she spoke. She nearly winced at herself, her cheeks quickly growing pink the more you stared into her eyes. You intimidated her, and she loved and hated it at the same time.

"Okay, yeah. Sure," you nodded, not quite understanding what she meant, but you had an idea. You pulled the door open wider for her, motioning for her to walk inside. "C'mon, you're freezing."

Ellie obliged, quickly making her way inside your studio home with a loud blow of air escaping her lips to emphasize the cold. The warmth of your place due to your furnace quickly soaked through her hoodie, but not enough to stop her body from shivering. The layout of your place was nearly identical to Ellie's, but mirrored. Your couch rests on the left side of the room, your bed on the right.

"Jesus, you need to warm up," you said after you noticed the blue tint that lightly colored Ellie's lips. "Sit down, I'll add more fire to the furnace."

"No, no. I'll be quick," Ellie said as she sat down on your couch, wanting to just get it out. She couldn't allow herself to hold off on telling you how she felt any longer. You playfully rolled your eyes at Ellie's stubbornness, making your way around the coffee table to sit on the other side of the couch.

You both sat down, you sitting in her direction, your left leg off the couch and the other folded in front of you, while she sat with her back against the arm rest, one knee up and one down. Her urgency was slightly concerning you, causing you to give her your full attention and lean slightly forward.

"I... uh..." Ellie nervously trailed off, scratching the nape of her neck as she tried to formulate the proper words. "I saw you leave the dance... You looked upset."

Ellie didn't like the fact that you were potentially upset with her. She was not sure why you were upset, but she assumed that it was because Dina kissed her and not you. Although, she'd hoped that wasn't the case.

You sighed, leaning back up to sit comfortably, relaxing now that you knew what the topic was. You knew you had to say something, but you weren't sure if you wanted to express how you felt just yet.

"I... was bored," you lied with a shrug, earning no response in return. Ellie didn't believe you, furrowing her brows as you continued. "What are you wanting to clear up?"

Ellie nervously nibbled her bottom lip before looking elsewhere, her eyes trailing around your room as she spoke, "I just... wanted to let you know that I, uh— that I don't like Dina. Not like... that."

You had to admit, knowing that Ellie didn't have feelings for Dina was reassuring. Hell, she came to you after Dina kissed her. That had to mean something, right?

The tension was thick, much more than the usual. It was clear that there was an elephant in the room, a fact that neither of you wanted to address. There was something there, you both believed that. The way Ellie nervously scratched here and there, wiped her palms, her nervousness was dripping onto you.

"Do you think I like Dina, or something?" you asked, leaning your side against the cushions. Ellie looked surprised by your question, surprised that you knew exactly what she was thinking. Either way, she wanted to know who you had feelings for, because it was obvious it was one of them.

“No… I… no, no,” Ellie trailed off before groaning, unable to formulate a proper sentence. She suddenly shook her head, sitting up to lean closer to you. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers folded together to warm herself. "Okay, yes. I think you like Dina, and I was just... curious."

"Just curious?" you teased, raising a brow as you teasingly leaned closer to her. You almost heard Ellie suck in a sharp breath, her eyes subconsciously falling to your lips.

Ellie was used to your jokingly flirtatious personality, but sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if you were joking or not. Your personality was the main reason she fell so hard for you in the first place. Even though she hated that you made her blush in front of you, she never wanted you to stop.

"Well," you tilted your head, your eyes meeting hers again as you thought. You knew that your answer would reveal more than what you wanted to either way.

The damage was done. Your emotions were clearly displayed for her and everyone else at the dance. You were avoiding, and Ellie knew it. Your hesitation was just making her heart thump faster and faster in anticipation.

"I don't have feelings for Dina," you finally spit out, managing to hold eye contact with the auburn. You weren't admitting that you particularly had feelings for Ellie instead, hoping that you wouldn't have to.

"Okay..." Ellie trailed off as she leaned back against the armrest, continuing to nervously chew on her lower lip. The pressure in Ellie's chest was growing stronger, and your slightly flirtatious behavior was throwing her off your trail just enough. Instead, she began thinking that she had already made herself look a fool for showing up in the first place, wanting such information. She knew she had to clear it up. "I didn't want her to kiss me."

"Ellie, it's okay," you assured her, sensing that she felt uncomfortable with you thinking she liked Dina. You just couldn't understand why.

"It's just..." Ellie trailed off, not feeling completely satisfied. "You know when you get that overwhelming feeling that someone is upset with you? I just... I feel like I fucked something up."

"What do you think you fucked up? I don't understand," you expressed, shaking your head as you leaned closer to her. Ellie nearly shrunk, your warmth radiating off of you as you got closer. She could feel it, and she wished she could just wrap her arms around you to warm herself up.

Ellie thought about how she looked at you after the kiss, and how her eyes met yours. Your expression held a mixture of disappointment and sadness, and you held the eye contact for a short while before you set the glass down and left. It was obvious why you were upset, now that Ellie remembered more and more. If you truly wanted Dina, you would've looked pissed at Ellie. Yes, you were pissed. But you didn't show Ellie that, she didn't deserve it.

It clicked.

Ellie had a sudden burst of confidence, her legs still spread apart as she held onto her knee to lean forward, closer to you. You could have sworn you felt butterflies in your stomach.

"Why can't you just be honest with me?" she asked lowly, but kindly, her eyes never leaving yours. "You were upset. Just spit it out."

Ellie's behavior toward you had changed drastically. She wasn't as shy as she usually was. She was determined, and in a way, she seemed cocky. As if she knew something you didn't. That quick, like a flick of a switch, she got you.

Instead of allowing her to corner you, you reciprocated her attitude, but more seductively.

"Why don't you just tell me what you want me to say?" you teased, leaning closer to her until your nose was mere inches away from hers. Ellie didn't back away, remaining firm as she stared into your eyes, her cocky expression slowly faltering. It was a pitiful sight, honestly. You did nothing other than lean closer and she began melting.

Her silent action was enough for you to know exactly why she came in the first place. It was funny, both of you putting the pieces together in your own minds as you stared into each other's eyes.

You could feel your heart racing, thumping in your chest enough to make your necklace shake ever so slightly. Shaky breaths escaped Ellie's throat as her eyes trailed down from yours to your lips, not caring if you caught her or not. What did she have to lose, at this point? Her eyes then trailed down your jaw, to your neck. Fuck, she thought.

"You... you were upset that Dina kissed me," Ellie revealed, mainly to herself, since you were already fully aware. Her eyes met yours once again before she continued, "Because you..."

"Because I what?" you pushed, inching a tiny bit closer. The arousing tension was too obvious to mention. It was as if you both were just waiting for the green light. Neither of you knew how to express your feelings verbally, being used to internalizing them.

"You... you wished Dina was you?" Ellie raised an accusing eyebrow, nearly making you chuckle from her naturally raspy tone.

"More than that," you said before ending the conversation, wrapping a hand around the nape of her neck to pull her closer toward you, closing the gap. Her tongue instantly dipped into your mouth, nearly making you smirk against her lips. You could tell she had been waiting a while to kiss you.

Your lips were just as soft as Ellie had imagined, locking her lips with yours as she leaned into you. The more Ellie leaned in, the more you leaned back, allowing her to straddle your right thigh as your left leg hung off the couch.

Ellie used this to her advantage to grind her right knee against your clothed heat, her tongue still battling yours as you fought for dominance. You knew you were going to win, but you wanted to let her finish her moment. You didn't expect her to climb onto you at first, knowing fully well that she was a bottom in bed. You've had many personal conversations about your sex lives, and particular kinks that you liked.

Against your will, you learned that Cat was the one to give her head for the first time, and the fact alone left you jealous for days. You had no right to be, you knew that, but the thought still bothered you since you were so fond of her.

A breath fell from your lips and rolled onto Ellie's as her knee grazed your clothed clit, tightening your grip around her neck before pushing her forward. You used your grip on both her neck and on her hip to guide her down, easing her onto the cushions until she was flat against the couch, with you straddling her leg.

You released her lips from yours, beginning to trail wet love marks down her jaw, to her ear, to her neck. Soft breaths fell from Ellie's lips as you gently sucked her tender skin between your lips, making her eyes flutter closed as she relished in the feeling. Her hands found your waist, pulling your body closer to hers, which ultimately caused you to grind down on her thigh.

A groan fell from your lips, nearly causing a moan in return from Ellie. She could feel herself growing more and more soaked, her heat clenching around nothing as she anticipated your touch.

"You're freezing," you purred in her ear, having taken note of how cold her skin was against your warm lips. "D'you want to move to the bed?"

Ellie tilted her head back, lightly smiling at the feeling of your breath tickling her ear. She then looked up at you through her lashes, giving you a silent answer. You reconnected your lips with hers, pulling her to sit up before starting to take your shoes off. You then stood, reaching out for her hand, to which she quickly accepted.

It seemed like it took less than a second for the two of you to lie on your bed, immediately reconnecting your lips once more as you straddled her waist. Ellie's head rested comfortably against your pillows, her bun on the verge of falling out from how eager both of your movements were.

You decided to test the waters, gently biting her bottom lip as you pulled away from a kiss. In return, you earned a long intake of breath, Ellie's desperate eyes boring into yours as you smirked.

"You're impatient," you noted, sitting up as she continued to lie underneath you. Her bright eyes were looking up at you innocently, lips slightly parted, cheeks lightly tinted. She looked pitiful, just for you.

"I... fuck," she muttered, screwing her eyes shut as she gently bucked her hips against you. You raised a brow at the friction, tenderly pushing yourself against her to add pressure.

"What was that?" you pushed teasingly, trying to hide a cheeky smile. Ellie noticed it though, her long lashes fluttering closed as she rolled her eyes.

"I fucking need you, is that what you wanted to hear?" Ellie lightly snapped, and you gently placed your fists next to her ears, on the pillow that rested underneath her head. You stared down at her, watching her impatient expression slowly falter. She was unsure if she crossed a line, admitting something too soon. But she was wrong.

That's how you ended up with your tongue buried in her cunt, your hands tightly gripping her thighs to prevent her from squeezing them together. Her fingers were entangled in your hair, gripping the strands as tight as she could as you sunk your tongue between her sloppy folds, earning soft, whiney moans from her in response. And many curses.

"Fuck, fuck," she whimpered, grinding her hips against your face, coating your chin and cheeks in her wetness. Sure, she'd had a girl go down on her before, but it was nothing like this. The way Ellie's shoulders would shudder in pleasure with each drag of your tongue through her slit convinced her that you were the best she'd ever had.

A loud, pitiful moan would escape her throat each time your tongue dragged over her throbbing clit, which was begging to be touched. You slowly circled the tip your tongue around her swollen bundle of nerves before enclosing your lips around it, softly suckling.

"Holy shit," she cried, her free hand flying to the bedsheets to tug on, subconsciously attempting to pull her thighs closed, squeezing your head deeper into her cunt. "Just like that. Please do-n't... don't stop."

You watched as Ellie arched her back before she suddenly sat up, looking down at you as she used her free hand to stabilize herself, her other hand remaining entangled in your hair.

"Feels so good, babe," she praised weakly, the pet name making you gently flick your tongue against her clit. You suddenly released your grasp from her thighs, sliding your left arm over her lower abdomen. With your right hand, you eased a digit into her, continuing to give attention to her bundle of nerves as you did so.

"Oh my fucking god," Ellie grunted, followed by a string of moans as you slowly added a second digit. Ellie's lips quivered as she relished in the feeling of your fingers thrusting into her, the noises of her sopping cunt causing hungry groans to roll off your tongue and onto her clit, sending vibrations up her spine.

You released her swollen bud with a pop, cheekily smirking up at her as you began to fasten the pace of your fingers, the squelching noises growing louder with each thrust. You moved your left hand to grip her shoulder, since she was still sitting up, gently kissing her jaw, Ellie desperately tried to pull her legs closed, the pleasure quickly becoming overwhelming.

"No, no. Keep them open," you purred, guiding her legs wide open again, earning a desperate, loud moan in return.

"You sound so pretty. You hear that?" you purred, curling your fingers inside her to graze her spongy spot that drove her crazy, unbeknownst to you. A nearly pornographic moan erupted from Ellie's lips, her thighs flying shut as you thrusted your fingers relentlessly, the messy noises of her cunt bellowing throughout the room. You used your free hand to pull her thighs apart, quickly understanding that it was simply a reflex that she couldn't control, the pleasure overpowering her.

"Shit! I-I'm gonna come," Ellie whimpered, seeming embarrassed at how fast she approached her climax as her eyes screwed shut to avoid your gaze. You released your hand from her knee to grab her wrist, tenderly tightening your grip as she grew closer, causing her eyes to shoot back open and meet yours, making her fall for you all over again in one simple act.

"You're gonna come?" you cooed, wanting to assure her that your goal was to make her feel good, not make her last long. "That's okay. Come for me, baby."

Ellie's eyes screwed shut again as the overloaded pleasure eventually crashed down on her, her muscles stiffening as her orgasm blossomed through her core. Ellie's lips quivered as her jaw hung agape, short intakes of hair sounding from her throat as she struggled to catch her breath. Her lungs were completely knocked of air, not allowing a peep to escape her throat as her body began to tingle.

You began to slow the pace of your fingers, watching as her thighs trembled mercilessly. Upon removing your fingers from her wet folds, you gently straddled her once again to lean down and press gentle kisses on her cheeks, hearing gentle gasps from her as she recovered.

"You okay?" you whispered against her skin, softly running your fingers underneath the band of her sports bra, feeling just beneath the cotton. Ellie melted under your gentle, graceful touch, nodding her head in response as her eyes fluttered open, looking up as your lips traveled down her neck.

"How the fuck did you learn to do that?" Ellie questioned breathlessly, earning a cocky grin in response against the skin of her neck. Ellie playfully rolled her eyes from feeling your grin against her skin, her slim fingers finding your waist. You could feel Ellie's chest still heaving with heavy breaths, but not as rapid. "You're cocky."

"Am I?" you finally moved to meet her eyes, quirking a sarcastic brow. Ellie playfully hit your hip, her lips contorting into an sheepish smile. Your grip on her waist tightened before you flipped her so that you were in her previous spot with her straddling your hips.

Various birth marks and tiny freckles littered her thighs, barely noticeable in color. But you noticed, and she knew that. The way your fingers would caress them, traveling in specific patterns before she caught your attention again.

"Feel free to take a picture," she joked with an accusing tone, making you meet her eye contact. A small smile tugged the corners of her lips as she leaned down to capture your lips with hers, humming into the kiss in satisfaction. You suddenly pulled away from her lips, remembering that you had a specific toy that you often wished you could use, but never did.

"I want to try something," you said, easing her to sit up so you could slip out from underneath her. "Just lay down real quick."

Before anything else, you made sure to throw in a few logs of firewood into the furnace before making your way over to your closet beside your bed. You were only in your underwear, wanting to keep your place warm enough for Ellie's comfort.

She quirked a brow as she watched you rummage through your closet, catching a glimpse of your ass as you bent down. Your black cheeky underwear earned a sharp intake of breath from the auburn girl behind you as she stared, lightly squeezing her thighs together. You turned around to face her with a strap-on in hand, giving her a suggestive smile.

"Oh," Ellie's expression was surprised, but not distasteful. You knew it wasn't her first time using one, wanting to take up on the opportunity that was presented to you. She watched you as you strapped the simple harness, your eyes focused on it as you stepped back over to the bed. Ellie's expression quickly turned satisfied as she watched you climb back onto the bed, leaning closer to her until your lips met hers in a hungry kiss. You then laid back down, which made her eyes lightly widen, just enough for you to notice.

Your hands found their way to her waist, as she sat on her knees beside you, and you looked up at her with a gentle expression. "Come here, babe. I want to make you feel good."

"I've never done that," Ellie admitted, her freckled cheeks dusting a light pink after the words lightly escaped her lips. Her fingers began curling into the bedsheets, nervousness creeping up on her in fear that you would be disappointed with her inexperience. "I've never been on top."

Ellie looked nervous, but excited at the same time. You could tell that she genuinely wanted to try it, but that she didn't know what to expect. You were surprised that Ellie had never tried the position before, in a judgment-free way.

“Do you want me to teach you how?” you inquired genuinely, your fingers running down her hips to her indents where her thighs and lower stomach met. Ellie's tensed shoulders released as she nodded, taking it upon herself to climb onto you, the silicone toy gently resting against her stomach as she sat on your upper thighs.

Her eagerness surprised you, mainly because she had been ready for you the whole time. Despite already having one release, and not being touched for a short while, you could still see the glistening of tears finding their way down her legs as she straddled your upper thighs.

"I'll take care of you, okay?" you assured her, your fingers wrapping around the silicone as your left hand found its way to her right hip, helping her ease herself up to hover over the tip. Ellie nodded in response, her eyes falling from yours to the tip, watching it slowly disappear as you eased her down.

A soft whine escaped Ellie's throat as her eyes fluttered closed, feeling herself stretch around what she considered you. You were making her feel this good, and she wanted to consider it that. She had to admit that being on top definitely felt foreign, especially since she had not been with anyone for a while beforehand. She could not deny how good it felt.

Ellie was only halfway down the shaft before you took it upon yourself to begin lifting her up, using both hands on her hips to move her. She was quickly growing accustomed to the feeling as it turned from foreign to euphoric, tilting her head back as she gripped onto your wrists.

"Feel good? Hm?" you cooed, wanting to make sure that she was feeling nothing other than pleasure. It was your main goal.

"Yes," Ellie quickly replied, her grasp on your wrists tightening as her nails began to make crescent indents into your skin. You watched her tattoo flex as she did so, her grip never releasing as you began to slowly fasten your pace, lifting and easing her down on you. "F-fuck, yes. Feels s'good."

You began to feel her gaining her own pace with you, lifting herself up before you would push her back down, gently bucking your hips to aim deeper. Her eyes were screwed shut, the pleasure causing whiney, careless moans to erupt from her lips.

"Good girl," you purred as she lifted herself, earning a whiney moan in return. Her movements were growing less rigid, making a smile tug the corners of your lips.

"You got it, baby," you praised, your grip on her waist slowly releasing as she began to find her own pace. You continued to hold her hips, though, since you couldn't exactly pull them away from her grip on your wrists. "Just like that."

Ellie's moans were growing louder as you watched the silicone disappear into her, a white ring forming at the end from her slick as she repeatedly sunk down on you. Not only that, but the squelching of her cunt and the loud slapping of her ass landing on your thighs were just as loud and clear.

You looked back up at her, seeing her struggling to keep her hooded eyes open as she grinded her hips into yours. Her eyes never left yours, you moaning along with her not only to enhance her pleasure but to enhance your own. The sight alone was all you needed.

"Want my help, pretty girl?" you hummed, looking up at her. Ellie started to slow her movements, nodding in response. Her muscles were growing tired, not being used to the constant work of being on top.

You began grinding upwards, eventually tightening your grip on her hips once again to halt her movements, completely holding her still as you bucked your hips up, fucking her from underneath. Ellie squeaked in surprise, but it quickly melted into a string of moans as she looked down, watching the way her thighs slapped against yours, the way you gripped her hips, it was all overwhelming.

"Oh, oh, fuck," she breathed and released her grip from your wrists to lean forward, hovering over you. Since she let go of your wrists, you took the opportunity to slip your fingers underneath her sports bra to push it up, exposing her breasts to you.

You could see the rise in her sensitive peaks after being expose to the cooler air of the room, leaning up to capture one of them into your mouth, softly suckling on it. Ellie whined in response, wrapping her fingers around the back of your neck to hold your against her. Her focus was soon lost, the only thing on her mind being the immense pleasure you were giving her, her hooded eyes fluttering closed.

Ellie could feel the knot within her lower stomach beginning to ravel itself once again, the coil tightening more and more as you thrusted into her. She released her grip from you, pulling you away from her breast to catch your lips into a wet kiss, dirty moans getting pushed down your throat. You didn't expect Ellie to be so verbal, let alone loud, in bed, but you weren't complaining. It was like music to your ears.

"Is my girl close?" you whispered against her lips, beginning to lose your breath as you leaned back down to buck your hips up. Ellie nodded, her eyebrows furrowing enough to crease the skin between them as she felt herself nearing her release.

You used your grip on her hips to flip her onto her back, hovering over her. Ellie gasped in surprise before bellowing a pitiful cry as you thrusted your hips into hers, making her throw her head back against the pillows.

"F-fuck! Harder, p-please!" Ellie nearly sobbed in between thrusts, the pressure knocking the wind out of her lungs for short periods. Her hands quickly found their way on your back, her short nails digging into your skin as she arched her back, allowing you to hit at a deeper angle.

"I-I'm gonna come, I'm gonna cum!" Ellie repeated desperately before you slammed your lips onto hers, allowing her to melt under your touch as her second orgasm washed over her, her body jolting just as it hit her.

"God, you're so beautiful," you murmured against her lips, continuing to thrust at a gentle your pace until Ellie's hand flailed to your hip, "Fuck, fuck. I c-can't--"

"It's okay. It's okay," you soothed as you instantly slowed your movements to a halt, your breath hitting her lips before you gave her a reassuring kiss. You continued to press gentle kisses on her cheeks before pulling away to remove the harness from yourself, leaving Ellie for a swift moment. Based off the tiny, pitiful noises that rolled off her lips and onto yours, you could tell that you had taken a lot, if not all, of her energy. "Are you tired, babe?"

Babe. Ellie wasn't sure if you were only saying that because of what had just happened, or if you genuinely wanted to be something. Ellie wouldn't be opposed if your relationship was solidified by consummation, clearly, but she couldn't help but wonder.

"A little bit," Ellie sheepishly admitted as she continued to catch her breath, unintentionally looking up at you with doe eyes as you pulled the harness off your frame, climbing back onto the bed.

"You can stay here," you replied, a gentle smile tugging the corners of your lips as you tenderly pulled her sports bra back down her chest for her. Ellie reciprocated the smile, to which made yours stronger as her cheeks burned from your affectionate act. You lightly chuckled to yourself, beginning to pull yourself away from her to add more firewood to the furnace, but she quickly wrapped her arms around your waist to pull you back down to hover over her. "Hey, wait."

You looked down at her, your hands on the bed on the sides of her head to stabilize yourself as you scanned her face, waiting for her to continue. Ellie didn't want to hold off on getting an answer, not wanting to overthink the situation for the rest of the night.

"I know this is... the worst fucking time, but... I really do like you, and I really don't want us to... I don't know," Ellie began to ramble, moving her hands along with her words. "I don't want us to awkwardly go our separate ways tomorrow..."

"Who said we had to?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at her. You had made your feelings clear, but not verbally, so you understood why she thought such things. You leaned back down, pressing your lips onto hers into a full kiss, holding both sides of her face as you straddled her. You then pulled away, looking down at her beautifully freckled face. "I really like you too, okay? Don't worry about that. I'm jus' glad I could finally tell you."

Ellie's cheeks burned a light pink as you tucked lose strands of her hair behind her ear, the tint flowing through her face before lightly kissing the tip of her nose.

"Let me add more firewood, and then we can talk more. Deal?" you asked with a smile.

"Deal."

a/n: if you made it this far, thank you for reading! feel free to send requests and/or feedback, everything is appreciated! ೃ⁀➷

#hazelnutsforellie #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #tlou ellie williams #the last of us smut #tlou smut #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us 2 #the last of us game

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thesandsofelsweyr · 6 days

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THE SUS BOY NEXT DOOR

《 PART 3/3 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

《WORDS》 1,484 《CHAPTERS》 1 2 3

《PAIRING》 Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

《TROPES》 Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

《WARNINGS》 Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

《TAGLIST》 (in replies because tags aren't working in the post for some reason)

《NOTES》

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

I just want y’all to know that this chapter was written for you—I prefer the story ending at Chapter 2 😉

If you enjoy the read please kudos, comment, and reblog ❤️

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You catch the door before it clicks shut. You don’t want to leave him like this. You can’t leave him like this, so you inhale a deep breath and creep back inside, steeling yourself for rejection or another hateful outburst.

His weeping tapers off into sniffles and the occasional cough. You can feel his eyes following you as you pad over to his couch and grab the neatly folded throw blanket, casting a furtive glance towards his gun, which is still lying undisturbed where you left it, before returning to him. His eyes have fallen away from you—his head sagging between his slumped shoulders, chin touching his chest—and you hope he hasn’t gone away again to that terrible place in his mind. When you drape the blanket around his shoulders he flinches but gives no other protest, even pulling it more tightly around himself. He doesn’t order you to leave—doesn’t even acknowledge you’re there—so you kneel down in front of him, careful not to crowd him. He looks so defeated, so beaten down by the world; an abused child wrapped up in his security blanket for comfort after another unfair punishment. Your heart can’t help but break for him.

You sit for a moment, listening to his soft sniffles and harsh breathing until you find the right words to say. Then you open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles to the floor again, his tearful eyes hidden behind a curtain of sweat-damp black hair.

For what? Passing out? Getting strangled? Knocking me to the floor then screaming at me? But you keep those questions to yourself, asking him instead: “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the ER?”

He slowly shakes his bowed head, as if it’s filled with lead, as if those awful memories of his are weighing it down.

“Then why don’t you lie down? Maybe get some rest?” you suggest. “I can bring you some Ambien…”

Your voice trails off because he shoots you a wary look. But then his face softens and he nods before muttering, “No drugs.”

“No drugs,” you echo softly, your brain jumping to conclusions again about this brooding man of few words. Perhaps he’s a recovering addict or something. You push yourself to your feet then reach out a hand to help him up. He stares at it then his eyes fall away again. He’s really not a fan of eye contact.

“I don’t even know your name,” he says.

“It’s Y/N,” you offer eagerly. “What about you?”

There’s a pause, and for a moment you think he’s going to ignore you, but then he answers, “Jason,” in a barely audible voice, as if he’s ashamed to utter the word aloud.

Heavy silence swells around you and you’re acutely aware of your outstretched arm hanging awkwardly in the air. He wipes his bleeding cheek against his shoulder, smearing more blood onto his hoodie. You pull back your proffered hand and use it to push a lock of hair behind your ear as you fumble for something to say to fill the uncomfortable silence that stretches on. And suddenly you're back at dinner with John Preston Anderson III trying to make conversation while he scrolls on his phone, pretending you don’t exist. You have to swallow down a bubble of anger that threatens to erupt.

“I’m… sorry for whatever happened to you, Jason. I… can stay with you, if you want.” Suddenly your face is afire and you’re mortified that you just invited yourself to sleep over at his place only seconds after learning his name. “On your couch, I mean,” you clarify, blushing furiously, but his eyes never leave the floor. Thankfully.

He coughs then shakes his head again. “I already ruined your night.”

A bitter laugh bursts out of you at that without your permission, and his head jerks up, startled, bloodshot eyes snapping to yours. You clap both hands over your mouth as if you can shove the rude sound back inside you. Guilt grips your heart as you see the pained expression on his pale face. It’s not anger or hurt or annoyance, but rather that same look of fear that you witnessed earlier when he was cowering in the corner, as if your laughter frightened him.

You rush to explain, to put him at ease. “I’m sorry, it’s just that… if you only knew the night I’ve had. Anyway, I’m glad we finally got to meet. It’s nice to put a name to the-the face.” You stutter that last part, realizing after the fact that it’s probably not very nice to bring up his unmistakably-scarred face like that, or complain about your night to the guy who got strangled, so you blurt out before your mind can catch up with your mouth: “It isn’t every night that I get to help a handsome stranger in distress.”

Your face somehow turns an even darker shade of crimson. How many times can you put your foot in your mouth in one conversation? But to your surprise and relief you’re rewarded with a little laugh from Jason, a sound that seems awkward and unnatural, as if he doesn’t get to laugh very often. Some of the color returns to his cheeks as he blushes the prettiest shade of pink. When the corners of his mouth quirk up into a timid smile you realize that he has absolutely gorgeous lips, despite the swelling. Full and soft, finely laced with small silvery scars—little arrows pointing to where they need to be kissed. Jesus Christ. Again, you literally just learned the guy’s name and now you want to kiss him. No, that’s a lie. You’ve wanted to kiss him since his rude ass scowled at you the first time. What is it with you and Ted Bundy types?

“I’ll have to pass out more often,” he says shyly, fingers plucking at the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His blue-green eyes find the floor again, as if his script is written there. “Turns out it’s a great way to meet beautiful women.”

Beautiful… beautiful… The word echoes in your mind like a heartbeat. No one has ever called you beautiful. Your chest comes alive with sudden warmth as butterflies take flight. You want to stay there with him for the rest of the night. To kiss him on his busted lips. To wrap him up in your arms. To protect him from whatever hurt him. Instead, you grab one of the discarded ice packs and hand it to him, heart still fluttering wildly in your chest. “Google says you should get some ice on that. Your throat, I mean.” Goddamnit. He just said you’re beautiful, and you reply by handing him an ice pack. How the hell are you so bad at flirting?

“Who am I to question Dr. Google?” he replies sarcastically with a smug little smirk on those beautiful lips, but still does as he’s told, accepting the ice pack then holding it against his red-ringed throat.

You gaze down at him as you grope for the perfect words to say that will turn this scene into one worthy of a romcom. You consider inviting him back to your place to share that bottle of merlot you’ve been dreaming about all night. But then remind yourself that the poor guy is traumatized, definitely in no shape for a romantic nightcap. You can’t help but find yourself wishing, as if you can will it into existence, that he’ll look up at you, that your eyes will meet, sparks will fly, and he’ll flirt with you again. Maybe even invite you to stay the night with him. But his eyes remain glued to the floor, and your heart drops in disappointment as your ridiculous delusions are dashed by his silence.

“I should… probably go, for real this time. It’s late.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure I can’t do anything for you before I go?” you ask, coming back down to earth from the high of his compliment and seeing him again as the guy who’d gotten cut and strangled then passed out cold on his floor rather than an object of your lust.

He shakes his head, then he glances up at you, those stunning blue-green eyes of his finally finding yours, sending a fresh flutter to your chest. “You’ve done more than enough. It was… really nice having someone to talk to. To… distract me from… other things.”

His kind words give you a boost of confidence. “Well If you ever want to talk again, you know where I live. Or if you need a babysitter.”

You smile at the puzzled look that crosses his face and nod towards his houseplant.

He laughs that adorable little laugh again. “I may take you up on that offer sometime. Goodnight Y/N. And… thanks again. For everything.”

“Take care of yourself, Jason.”

#sands writes #jason todd #female reader #arkham knight #arkhamverse #jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x you #arkham knight x you #reader x jason todd #reader x arkham knight #jason todd imagine #arkham knight imagine #jason todd fanfic #arkham knight fanfic #fic: the sus boy next door

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luvrrgirl444 · 1 month

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chapter 4: mansion

the house — borderline mansion — was packed. you could tell by the amount of cars that littered the street, and what you could see from the large glass windows. “does a fucking president live here?” you asked, looking at the big house with wide eyes.

“nah, both of eren’s parents are doctors. they’re rich as fuck.” jean answered, ringing the doorbell of the grand door. “is he single?” genesis asked, which made you laugh. “ion even know.” kade shook his head. “he’s a d1 bop.” somehow, you and gen (with a little help from jean) were able to convince kade to bring you two along.

“oh.” you and genesis grimaced. “gotchu.”

as soon as the door opened, your ears were filled with the loud sound of flex up by lil yachty, future and playboi carti. it was opened by a white guy with curly, dark hair. he had his arm around a girl, before he removed it to dap up jean and kade.

“manwhore..” you whispered to gen, to which she nodded. “definitely.”

“kd, these your sisters?” eren asked, as his eyes moved from his teammates to you two. “yeah, y/n, genesis, this is eren.” kade introduced.

“hey pretty girls, i’m eren, aka the owner of this hou-” you rolled your eyes, while your brother cut the man off. “yo, go back to your girl of the night.” eren fake gasped, and put his hand on his chest. “i was actually thinking of making her my girl.” jean quirked his eyebrow. “for real?”

eren snorted. “nah.” he shook his head. “anyway, come inside.” the house was in fact, packed, with people you presumed were students at utrost. some were dancing to the loud music, while others were sat drinking and smoking around the house.

as soon as kade and jean entered the building, there were shouts and screams from the crowd. cheering on the two stars for the performance they had earlier. “you never told us that you were fucking celebrities?” they laughed.

“i mean, we are the top two prospects in the country.” jean said cockily, shrugging his shoulders. “damn right,” kade laughed and dapped up his roommate. you rolled your eyes and snickered. “y’all are cocky as fuck.”

“not gonna lie, i’m not fucking with these weird ass stares i’m getting from your fangirls.” genesis said with a stank face. you nodded. “if they keep it up, someone’s getting smacked.” jean snorted. “we don’t even know them for real, just ignore them.” kade replied and threw his arms around their shoulders. “let’s go find conman.”

“kd! jay! you made it!” a guy with a nose stud and a red overgrown buzzcut exclaimed. you were now in the kitchen of the house. the guy, connie, dapped up his two teammates and grinned at them, showing off his blue braces. “of course we did. this party’s for us, ain’t it?” jean replied, with a smirk on his face.

connie rolled his eyes and smacked him. “you wish that was true, you bitch.” jean rubbed the shoulder that connie hit and laughed. “it is true, you bitch.” he rolled his brown eyes once again before his landed on you and genesis. “out of everyone, you choose these annoying bitches to hang around?” you and gen laughed.

“kinda have no choice. they brought us here.”

“woah?” kade fake winced. “why are you hating on your own brother?”

“brother?” connie asked. “so beauty runs in the family?” he finished, puckering his lips at kade. you, gen and jean laughed while kade pushed connie’s head away. “i wish i could drink right now.”

🎡!

- finally caved and made eren a slut for once. this is so unlike me 💔

taglist! <3 @alittleilliterate @invisible-mori @jazminethecreator @drugzforyou @shidousmainluvr

#aot smau #aot fanfiction #aot x black reader #attack on titan #eren jaeger #x black reader #shingeki no kyojin #connie springer #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #luvrrgirl444

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Text

CHAINSAW & HAPPINESS PILLBOX

YANDERE! CSM! VARIOUS x STOIC! READER

CAUTIONS: MANGA SPOILERS, RELIGIOUS THEMES, YANDERE THEMES, CHAINSAWMAN THEMES, OP READER, CANON DIVERGENCES.

EXPIRATION DATE: ONGOING

INGREDIENTS: The most amicable feeling you’ve had towards humans is was indifference. In this godless world, they were your prey and nothing else.

But the appearance of Denji and your growing feelings towards the [redacted] says otherwise.

If only you weren’t already in a contract with Makima.

A marriage contract that is.

PILLS TO TAKE

PILL 1 - STUPID HUMAN

PILL 2 - DISAPPEARING APPEARANCES

PILL 3 - GREAT GENESIS / GENESIS DEI

PILL 4 - GOD SAVE US ALL (COMING SOON)

Reply to any of the pills or this post if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 10 months

Text

You're waiting for a train...(3)

Meeting Your Mark

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Y/n knows the most dangerous move you can make is to fall in love with your mark.

word count - 1.7k

warnings - mentions of death, the sharpness of cillians cheekbones, how piercing his blue eyes are.

a/n - okay so I promise the Robert stuff is coming! The next chapter will be an important one, this was just a filler pretty much. Also I loved writing about y/n and Ariadne cause I felt they would both relish in the other when surrounded by men - specifically y/n.

a/n 2 - We finally have Tom Hardy in this chapter!!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I sat on the window ledge, clutching my coffee like a lifeline. It tethered me back to reality. I got out the picture from my jean pocket. I brushed my fingers over the fake braces and then found them stroking the faces of my siblings. Their gleeful smiles frozen in time.

The door creaked open, announcing Arthur’s entrance. I hopped to it and wiped away the tears that had escaped. All morning my mind had been plagued with visions of a man. I wasn’t even dreaming and yet he still remained. He’d nested within my brain, and he wasn’t leaving any time soon. But no matter how much I strained trying to make out the face, I was at a loss. It was almost like I couldn’t create the face because he had already been made. But I was yet to meet him. With how much closer I’d been getting to his figure with each time asleep, I felt our meet was imminent.

“You sleep, okay?”

“Like a log.” Arthur’s eyes drifted to the case I had hurriedly packed up.

“You went under?”

“No.” I lied. But he didn’t breach the topic any further as we were both stopped by Ariadne clearing her throat.

We turned around.

“Cobb said you’d be back.” Arthur remarks.

“Yeah, well, I tried to not come but- “

“There’s nothing quite like it.” I finished for her. She smiled softly at me.

“It’s just—pure creation.” She held her gaze with me. There was a brief silence between us three, waiting for someone to continue the discussion.

“Let’s look at some paradoxical architecture.” Arthur broke the silence and led us both to 3 deck chairs he’d laid out. We lay down and hooked ourselves up. Within seconds we were away.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We found ourselves in a structured glass office building. Arthur winked at me. It was the first building I’d ever created, and he’d saved it all these years. This is where I’d honed my own paradoxical skills. He led the two of us up a staircase.

“You’re gonna have to master a few tricks, if you’re gonna build three complete dream levels.”

“Excuse me,” I said as we passed a woman who had dropped her files.

“Why three?” She asked.

“Successful inception depends on planting the idea deep enough that the genesis of the idea becomes too foggy for the subject. 3 levels deep, 3 dream levels.”

“Anyways, what kind of tricks do I need?’

“In a dream you can cheat architecture into impossible shapes that lets you create closed loops.” We had been walking the staircase in a circle now, proving one of my favourite closed loops. “Like the Penrose steps.”

“Aka, the infinite staircase.” We passed the woman with the dropped files once again. “See.”

Ariadne suddenly took stock of her surroundings and saw the end of the staircase culminate in a sharp drop.

“Paradox.” We left the staircase and began to walk around the office building so Arthur could explain further. “So, a closed loop like that allows us to disguise the boundaries of the dream.”

“But how big do these levels have to be?”

“Well, it could be anything from the floor of a building to an entire city. But they have to be complicated enough so that we can hide from the projections.”

“A maze.”

“Right, a maze.”

“And the better the maze- “

“The longer we have before the projections catch us.” I smirked at how quickly Ariadne had grasped the concept. She truly put my dad to shame. And having her with us meant I no longer had to work with incompetent male architects. This girl was the real deal.

“Exactly.”

“Well, my subconscious seems polite enough.”

Arthur and I chuckled. “Just wait, they’ll turn ugly.” I answered. “No one likes to feel someone messing around in their mind.”

“Cobb can’t build anymore, can he?” Ariadne questioned. I wanted to argue but she was right. He thought about mum too much where his mind could never be clean enough to build anew.

“Well, I don’t know if he can’t, but he won’t. He thinks it’s safer if he doesn’t know the layout.”

“Why?”

“He won’t tell us.” I lowered my head, Dad might not have told me why, but he told me enough.

“But I think it’s Mal.”

“Yeah, no offence but your mum was a piece of work.” She laughed, gesturing to me. “What does his ex-wife have to do with it.”

“Mal’s not his ex.”

“They’re still together?”

“No,” I spoke up. “She died. What you see in there is just his projection of her.”

Her eyes softened when they looked at me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“What was she like in real life?”

“She was lovely.” I smiled thinking back in my memories.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Ariadne and I sat talking with our coffees and croissants. Arthur had left to get some supplies, so we decided to have a rest. We’d been drawing and planning all morning, so a break was well earned.

“You have an architecture degree?”

“No, I never got to finish it.”

“Why?”

“My dad needed me here. So, I left.”

“Oh.” She sensed the underlying sadness so left the topic. “But your drawings are amazing, why can’t you build.”

“Oh, I don’t build anymore.” I laughed brushing off her statement.

“Does it have something to do with your mom?”

“We all have our own demons, I guess. And it’s terrifying when they get opened up to the world.”

“She’s still your mom.”

“No, she died. That person in his head, that’s not her.”

“Seems you have a better grasp on that then he does.”

“I guess.” I rose, uncomfortable with the conversation, and she took my tone as her cue to end the conversation.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dad had arrived back from Mombasa. When he entered with Eames I immediately ran into his awaiting arms.

“My favourite little troublemaker! How’re you doing darling?”

“So much better now you’re here!” I cheekily winked at him.

“Oh, I can imagine working with Arthur is the most exciting thing imaginable!” Eames sarcastically said.

“Nice to see you too, Eames.” Arthur huffed as he walked away from us two.

“Don’t insult him or he’ll start going over safety procedures again!”

We both laughed and finished with another hug.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I sit with Eames and Cobb out on the roof. Saito flings a file towards the three of us and it opens out onto the table.

“Robert Fischer. Heir to the Fischer Morrow Energy Conglomerate.” Dad looks at the file and then hands it to me.

My breath catches in my throat as my eyes meet his steely blues. The rest of the world became water that flooded my ears with white noise. I couldn’t grasp onto any sound in the world apart from my beating heart. My finger raised to stroke the picture. He stood there, dressed to the nines. His hair perfectly styled, and his body adorned in riches. But his eyes, as piercing as they were, held a sadness. He was lost. I could feel it through the ink.

“What’s your problem with this Mr Fischer?” I snapped up but failed to notice that my daze had been caught.

“That’s not your concern.” Saito’s tone cut through the air. I scoffed at his brazen attitude.

“Mr Saito, this is not your typical corporate espionage. You asked me for inception, I hope you understand the gravity of that request.”

I couldn’t stand it. This may have been purely business and transactional, but something shifted. This couldn’t be purely business with our skills involved. I decided to speak up.

“The seed we plant in this man’s mind will grow into an idea. This idea will come to define him. It may come to change, well, everything about him. This man is on a course of fate and. We. Will. Alter. It.”

Saito took a moment, considering my words. He relented to my warning.

“We’re the last company standing between them, and total energy dominance and we can no longer compete. Soon they’ll control the energy supply of over half the world. In effect, they become a new superpower.” He pounds the table. “The world needs Robert Fischer to change his mind.”

“And that’s where we come in.” Eames perks up to give his two cents. “How is Robert Fischer’s relationship with his father?”

“Rumour is the relationship is quite complicated.” This tugged at my heart for some reason. My eyes drifted to my own father.

“Well, we can’t work based solely on rumour, can we?”

Eames turned his file around the show us a picture of an obviously esteemed individual.

“Can you get me access to this man? Browning, Fischer seniors right hand man,”

I read my own file. “And Fischer juniors godfather.” I finished.

“It should be possible, if you can get the right references.” I chuckled at how simple this request was for Eames.

“References are something of a speciality for me, Mr Saito.” Eames cheekily stated.

“Then it is done.” All three of us got up.

But I felt changed and Eames noticed my subtle slump.

“I saw how you reacted to the picture.”

“What? He has nice—cheekbones? And blue eyes.” I stumbled through my unsure answer.

“Don’t worry, I’m not your dad.” He laughs at my bad attempt at lying. “How do you fancy a quick internship at Fischer’s house.” He raised his eyebrows, inviting me into another mischievous mission. I smirked and happily agreed to his scheme.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

On the other side of the roof, Saito, who had been looking at y/n intently throughout the meeting, stopped Cobb before he left.

“Your daughter. She is committed to this mission?”

“I don’t doubt my teammates.”

“What about your family?” He probed. Cobb became silent. “I saw her demeanour when she saw that picture. I’d hate to see your one chance disappear because of your daughters schoolgirl crush. Perhaps she is not as reliable as you think?”

Cobb halted his movements and considered Saito’s words as the man left the roof. He looked towards y/n who still had the file open in her hands. In that moment, he saw his daughter for who she truly was, a child without a childhood.

Would she be that impulsive?

Would she be that stupid?

Would she risk it all for him?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Yes. Yes I would risk it all for Cillian Murphy too.

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994

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etrnlsanshine · 2 years

Text

click here for stray kids!smau series

click here for tomorrow x together!smau series

click here for general ateez fic recs!

a collection of ateez!smau series that i have read, am currently reading or want to read (so I don't lose track)!!

feel free to send an ask or a message about any atz social media au's that you have read and enjoyed, doesn't matter which member bc at this point I'll read any and all of them bc I am obsessed... enjoy <3

fyi chapter mentions are for me to keep track bc i’m not on any taglists!!

♡ -> personal favorites!!

ot8/multiple membera

tongue tied (on hiatus??) ♡ ch 14

hooked (completed)

sweet november (on hiatus??) ch 22

milky way (completed)

always him (ongoing) ch 44

jung wooyoung

time of love (completed) ♡

cold brew (completed) ♡

daily dm (completed) ♡

dream chase (completed)

secretly yours (completed)

cache (completed)

someone like you (ongoing) ch 20

choi san

time of love (completed) ♡

mocha (completed) ♡

heartbreakers club (completed)

can’t you see (on hiatus???)

caught up (on hiatus) ch 7

odd eye (completed)

i can’t believe it’s you (completed)

wingin’ it (completed)

serendipity (completed) ♡

ignominy (completed)

so it goes (ongoing) ch 11

system error (ongoing) ch 14

park seonghwa

iced americano (completed) ♡

sans (completed) ♡

sugar honey ice & tea (completed) ♡

a classic trope (completed)

the kiss thief (completed) ♡

just say hi (completed)

song mingi

iced tea (completed) ♡

for life (completed)

sucks to suck lol (completed)

not my type (completed)

trip together (completed)

cupid’s corner (on hold) ♡ ch 17

lavender haze (completed)

genesis (ongoing) ch xxv

kim hongjoong

blue skies (completed)

the regular (completed)

lonely people’s club (completed) ♡

not that much of a vip

not my type (completed)

back to you (completed)

jeong yunho

wave (completed)

lovefool (completed)

sugar (on hold) chapter 3

algedonic (completed)

somebody else (completed)

seeing myself in you (ongoing) ♡ ch 75

chai latte (ongoing) ch 13

perhaps love (completed) ♡

when temporary becomes forever (completed)

yuck (ongoing) ♡ ch 24

on a high (ongoing) ch 1

choi jongho

caramel macchiato (completed) ♡

kang yeosang

matcha latte (completed) ♡

cruel summer (ongoing)

only you (completed)

sweeter than candy (ongoing) ch 71

cherry on top (completed)

consenescere (ongoing)

messed up (ongoing) ch 9

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songmingisthighs · 7 months

Note

Hi! I really love your genesis fic! Wooyoung’s Yummy Mommy agenda had me wheezing GAHDJDJF may I be added to the tag list?

I really want to be updated when u post hehe your smau is like a dose of serotonin after a long day 💕 I’m still not over the yummy mommy agenda that was so funny HAHA

ofc !! the taglist is always open ! :D

no bc wooyoung loving milfs is just a concept that needs to be brought out moar and that's the actual point of genesis 😤😤

#smt answer #luvt0kki ask #smt taglist #genesis taglist

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kookieswan · 1 year

Text

Through Dying Stars - Genesis

Alien!BountyHunter!Jimin x DeliveryGirl!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Genre: Alien AU, BountyHunter AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Nonsexual NSFW/18+, Angsty, Slow Burn.

Warnings: MC gets roughed up a little but nothing too bad/descriptive. Jimin isn’t a nice guy, neither are Bangtan. Use of weapons (guns). Many of the characters are morally gray in this story. Please be warned!

Summary: It takes everything in you not to curse your crew mates to hell as the annoyingly large man smashes you into the wall. You can only begin to guess what you did to get Bangtan on your ass. Fuck.

Notes: SO. A new series is born and I’m very excited about it. I hope you all like it. I’ll be doing a taglist for it I think; all I ask is that you have your age indicated somewhere on your blog. I listened to Rosemary by Deftones while writing this chapter ⭐️

This Part I of the Through Dying Stars series. Find the Masterlist here ⭐️

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

“What the fuck?!”

You’re awoken with a start, body violently tossed out of the plushness of your bed like a sack of potatoes. It takes a minute to grasp the situation, brain still clutching onto sleep like a lifeline after the night you’ve had. It doesn’t matter now though; you’re on the floor and definitely pissed off even if you can barely function. You thought that it had been agreed on that Tae would never man the ship again but apparently people want to play games.

Blinking slowly, the events slowly come back to you, a frown etching itself onto your face. You’re not sure what it’s been lately but Namjoons been taking on some more high profile jobs for Stellar Delivery Co. and it’s been taking its toll. Your body feels heavy, your mind scrambled as you roll to get up. Another day, another delivery you guess.

Standing up from the cold ground, you halt as the ship shakes again and the lights flicker in and out sporadically. Squinting your eyes, you grab for your bedside table, quickly pulling the communicator close to your lips. Something clearly isn’t right here, and as much as you’d rather be sleeping, you have to make sure it’s being taken care of lest you all die in a terrible explosion or something. That would be tragic and a little lame.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Speaking into the communicator gets you absolutely nothing in response, meaning that the ships in autopilot right now most likely. Had the others really managed to sleep through that jolt…? There’s no way. Changing the signal, you decide to call for Joon first since he’ll likely have the most answers.

“Joon…? Joon, come in.” Again, there’s no response, but that doesn’t necessarily worry you. Perhaps he’s actually decided to rest, it’s been days since he last slept if you’re remembering correctly. The man sleeps like a log, you had mistaken him for dead the first time you experienced it which is still traumatic to think about. Grumbling a bit, you try for Tae since Yoongi is likely actually dead to the world if it really is that late.

“Tae…? What the hell is happening right now…” Deciding it’s in your best interest to just go check after more radio silence. You pull on your cargo jacket over the little clothes you’ve worn to bed along with your communicator, feeling intensely wary was the lights continue to struggle to stay on.

Walking over to your door and peeking out of your room, a quick look down the hallway gives no indication of what’s happened. There’s not a soul in sight, your three other crew members apparently absent from the bunk area. Glancing down at your wrist as you rub away the remainder of sleep in your eyes, you note that it’s nearly 4am which makes the terrible feeling in your stomach grow worse. You knew it was late but not that damn late…

Stepping out, you hiss quietly as your bare feet are met with the cool ground of the ship. These assholes are really going to owe you after this; you had mentioned getting carpets but no. Maybe with some whining and pouts Joon will take you back to Ecalaxar for a shopping spree if you save everyone from a terrible fate. The thought makes you smile just barely, and with that, you start down the hall toward the cockpit.

Sadly, you don’t manage to get more than three steps down the corridor before you hear him.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The man’s accented voice is unfamiliar and much too excited. Much too fucking giddy to be normal, and it’s the final red flag the goes off in your head to piece everything together.

Someone’s broken into the damn ship.

Someone got past all the security. Someone got past all three of your crew members. And now, that someone is coming to get you as well.

Thanking the stars that you chose not to wear any shoes, you slip down the hallway away from the voice, your feet barely making a sound as you do. The ship has multiple small closets scattered about for storage, and even if they’re not meant for it they’ll make a wonderful hiding spot. You could fight, sure, but you don’t have your blaster and who knows what this man can do. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll also give you time to figure out a plan.

Sliding your hand against the walls as you walk, you try not to panic as you hear heavy footsteps approaching the bunk area. It takes everything in you not to gasp in relief as you arrive at the closet, turning the handle as slowly as possible. Just as you slip in, the voice calls out again.

“I know you’re around here somewhere, little girl. If you come out, I won’t hurt you too bad. If you keep hiding, well…” It’s gross how it’s strangely soft, almost teasing in nature, but the sinister tone doesn’t escape you. The closet is pitch black, a mind is cute amount of light coming through the cracks from the hallway.

Had the others got away? Had they been captured? Are they alright? Too many questions race through your mind as you hold your breath, the footsteps outside of the door echoing like space storm. You hear doors open and close, the man checking each of your rooms to see if anyone’s around. Maybe being thrown out of your bed was a blessing in disguise.

Blessings don’t last forever though. They never do. No, not for you.

“_____, you need to fucking hide right this very instant, fucking Bangtan of all people are-“ The panicked voice of Yoongi cracks through your communicator and then abruptly cuts off. Bangtan…? Fuck. Fuck. The footsteps have stopped and everything is silent before you burst out of the closet in a sad attempt to save yourself. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, an apparent member of fucking Bangtan, as you sprint out. He’s tall and dressed in black, body covered head to toe in it, gun held easily at his side. A fucking nightmare walking.

“AH, there you are!” The footsteps are thunderous again, loud as he chases you down, your thoughts much too scattered to come up with a solid escape plan. A scream bubbles in your throat just as you try to round the corner at the end of the hall which quickly turns into a choked sound as he slams his body into yours, effectively smooshing you between the wall and himself. You swear you hear something crack and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was one or six of your ribs.

Struggling against him as his hand wraps tightly around your wrists, you whine as he draws in closer, your cheek smashed into the wall. Trying to kick back is futile, his own legs locking your into place as you buck back against him which makes him fucking laugh. It’s only when you feel the cold tip of his gun caress your temple that you finally stop struggling. You’ve been bested. Fuck.

“Caught you.”

#through dying stars #jimin x you #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #jimin angst #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader #bts angst #bts alien au

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zeroth-writes · 11 months

Text

Dating -CC!Genesis Rhapsodos-

masterlist | request

Prompt: Hi! I saw your requests for ffvii is open again. I wanted to ask if you could write dating hcs for Genesis, before and during CC ❤️ please and thank you

Pairing: Genesis Rhapsodos / Reader

Summary:

Word Count:

would read loveless to you every night

even sending you text quotes

gets somewhat giddy when you accurately say what act its from

definitely calls you his ‘goodness’

loves to brag about you to his co-workers

especially the other 1st (seph and angeal)

enjoys talking you out on dates

to a movie, out to dinner, seeing LOVELESS, even just walking down the street

loves talking about his home back in banora

even mentioned bringing you his next vacation to meet his family

after his injury things would chance

his demeanor would significantly chance

instead of his flirty and confident self

he would be distance and cold towards you

instead of spending his free time with you

he’d spend it with hollander

he would talk about shinra less

sephiroth and angeal wouldn’t be mentioned as much

if at all

not even his family

is you mention them he’d simply scowl and ignore you

taglist: @asilverraven

#Final Fantasy #final fantasy imagine #final fantasy imagines #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii imagine #final fantasy vii imagines #final fantasy vii x reader #Genesis Rhapsodos #genesis rhapsodos headcanon #requested

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thecameronchronicles · 2 years

Text

Sideroads

TW: Smut.

SUMMARY: Car sex with Rafe, no plot.

WORD COUNT: 640

*REQUESTED*

Anonymous asked:

Can we have some car sex? No plot ideas just Rafe and reader doing it the back seat of his truck

Sideroads

You made the most of the small space allowed by the back seat of his truck. His hands were dug into your hips as you bounced his cock into hiding within your sex having been dripping long before he relieved you with the pressure of his presence. Words of endorsement were barely intelligible beyond the grunts and groans of close orgasms that would be edged by his need to prolong how you fell around him.

Impossibly tight and wet. His name never as sweet from any lips but yours. The way your body slid against his in the perfect rhythm made of your bodies. The steam on the windows having been interrupted by fingers drug through its condensation. And the willingness for your body to be pulled and twisted as he saw fit, much to your silent consent.

But by the time your body would finally reach that cusp of satisfaction, he would drag you back to its genesis, all so he could marvel the build back up to it over and over again. Through the ache of your feminine caverns and the pleas gone ignored by his own selfish ambition, you were taken in every angle allowed, until your hips lined with his from behind, his hand wrapped in your hair, as this position would be his downfall.

The sight of your ass marked by his previous slaps and the perfect fullness of your figure bent for him to control by a simple pull of your hair and he was too close to his own release to deny you your own. With the symphony of your name in accordance to grunts and groans, he would begin to cry out in relief as you smirked to such a chorus.

You had been building to this moment for what felt like hours. It didn't matter to either of you if you were lovers or friends, you were an outlet. Trust or conversation was moot as you became acquainted with pelvic familiarity, the only way either of you cared to experience. And yet, you were both gluttons to touch every inch of one another, not a section of skin, intimate or otherwise, that had been without the brush of a fingerprint. And now the reward was that of his lack of control relinquished by these movements into you.

Even if your hips ached from his grip and your clot throbbed from overstimulation, it was just what you needed as you would feel a mix of both lines of cum now dripping down your legs. He was agreeable to this as a single comment would leave his lips as he reclined back in the seat, taking in the final moments of your naked body worn out by mutual lust.

"Fuck, I needed that..."

"Glad I could be of service." You teased as he bit his bottom lip before stealing your panties just before you could apprehend them.

"Rafe…"

"Think I've earned 'em, don't you think? They're ruined anyway…soaked them all the way through."

"Fine. But if you get to take those…" You leaned forward, taking his cock in your mouth and forcing him to endure a moment of overstimulation until further precum and being granted enough to swallow.

"Then I get that-" His eyes were blown completely in lust. He didn't know what he had done to deserve you tonight. But he basked in knowing he did. Even if it was only for tonight, the memory and his souvenir would be enough to survive on. At least for now…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae

#rafecameron x reader #rafecameronfanfiction #rafecameron #rafe cameron #outerbanks #obx #outer banks smut #obxsmut #obx fanfiction #outer banks

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jeonqkooks · 2 years

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (bonus track)

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

rating: PG

genre/warnings: flashback fluff, angst, college au for the most part, exes au, this is very period cramps centric i'm sorry 😭, physical pain?, crying, hints of an estranged familial relationship, kinda edited but not really?? it isss what it isss

word count: 1.9k

note: this happened to me yesterday 💀 and while i was squirming in agony i thought damn this seems like an obs thing and so i... made it an obs thing :D

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

The first time that it happened in Jungkook’s presence, he swore he was seconds away from going into cardiac arrest.

When he saw you nearly kick your laptop off the bed to yank the covers over your head and curl up into a fetal position, he didn’t think much of it. You had a tendency to do that whenever you were stuck on an assignment—just giving in to your frustrations and stewing in them for a while before you could get your head straight.

But when Jungkook heard you whimper under the sheets, he instantly grew alarmed.

“Baby?” he called, placing a hand on your shoulder and feeling your entire body shake. He pulled the covers down just enough to see your face, and the sight had him crouching over your quivering form, concern evident in the furrow of his brows and the downward tug of his lips.

You were already breaking out in a sweat and your face was contorted in pain; it just made him more confused as to what was causing you so much distress. You clutched your stomach and kept burying your face in the pillows as your body agonizingly twitched. Jungkook didn’t know if you hadn’t heard him, or if you had no strength to respond.

“Hey,” he called again, urgency in his voice as he watched you struggle with a malicious unseen force. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

As expected, you didn’t answer him. Talking was too much, and you just kept on whimpering. He didn’t even realize that you were crying until you angled your head away from the pillows for a second to breathe.

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and pulled out his phone. “Fuck, I’m calling an ambulance.”

It was at this that you responded in actual words—more or less—than just moans of discomfort.

“No,” you rasped out, and weakly reached for his wrist. “Period… just cramps…”

Sure, it was cramps, but it wasn’t the monthly scheduled mild cramps that you were accustomed to. No, you had named this peculiar onslaught of menstrual pain The Great Cramps—in that it happened just once a year and usually toward the end of the year.

The Great Cramps only started after you were in high school, and you supposed that the stress of school was the genesis of your troubles. It was a horrendous experience and you could never prepare yourself for it.

Although, you couldn’t imagine what it looked like to Jungkook. You felt like you were dying, and it must have seemed like you were well on your way to the pearly gates too.

Your boyfriend kept quietly cursing under his breath and rubbing your back in an attempt to relieve a pain that he would never truly understand. It was times like these that made you hate being a woman, and it was times like these that made you miss your mother so much.

“What can I do? Can I get you some water? Painkillers?” Jungkook tentatively asked.

You weakly nodded without opening your eyes, still twisting in on yourself from the stabbing torment in your belly that was simultaneously assaulting your lower back as well. He didn’t know what you were agreeing to, so he just assumed it was both.

He left your side to search for the meds in your bathroom but he was back in a matter of minutes. Minutes that felt like they were dragging on for hours with the chaos that was wrecking your body.

Jungkook guided you to sit up, and he winced at every pained moan that left your lips, like this was hurting him too. Your face was wet with hot tears that were still rolling down your cheeks and some of your hair was sticking to your forehead from the sweat. You felt disgusting, inside and out.

He helped you take the pills—already broken in half because he knew you had a hard time swallowing the meds in their original size—and eased you back down on the mattress, all the while trying his best to ease your discomfort with soothing words that you really couldn’t care less about in that moment.

When you felt something deliciously hot press into your stomach, you looked down to see your trusty heating bottle with its plush flamingo cover. You took it from Jungkook with a small Thank you, damp eyes preparing themselves for another wave of salty tears.

Ever since you moved away for college, you never had anyone take care of you like this. Granted, this wasn’t something that happened often, but even in those instances, you were alone, and you always had to endure the searing pain that prevented you from getting the painkillers you needed.

You would just lie there in bed, silently weeping and wishing you had someone there for you. It was a mystifying kind of loneliness, to feel like you were on death’s door and no one cared, and no one would even understand.

Jungkook positioned his body right behind yours to hug you closer. He had his phone on the nightstand next to your bed, ready to call his mother or the emergency line if your pain didn’t subside. He even considered calling Jimin for advice, not that the older man would even know anything about menstrual troubles but he probably had a sneaky link who did.

You laid there in his arms for a while, waiting for the Panadol to take effect. You probably shouldn’t have taken it on an empty stomach, but you were also grateful that Jungkook was too freaked out to read the instructions. If he did, he would’ve Usain Bolt-ed to the nearest diner to get you something to eat, and you certainly didn’t have the strength to do anything other than wail.

When the havoc in your stomach and back dropped from a Level 10—bright red, “Unable to Move” and “Worst Possible Pain”—to a Level 5—yellow bordering on orange, more moderate and still distressing but manageable—you turned to face Jungkook.

“Are you okay?” he immediately asked. “Is it better? Is it worse? Should I call an ambulance? I’ll call an ambulanc–”

“I’m fine,” you said, or more like croaked out. “It hurts less than before. I’m fine.”

“Oh. Okay,” he sighed, visibly more relieved at your reassurance though he was still confused. “Then what’s wrong? Why are you still crying?”

Because it was so nice.

(Not The Great Cramps, of course not. You would give up on drinking chai tea for the rest of your life if it meant you never had to go through The Great Cramps ever again.)

The warmth from the heating bottle was nice, and having your boyfriend’s arms snugly wrapped around you was nice. You were slowly regaining access to other feelings now that the pain was going away.

Having Jungkook and letting him take care of you was nice. You loved it, and maybe you loved him too.

“Thank you,” you said with a sniffle, trying your best to muster an appreciative smile for him. “Thank you for taking care of me. You didn’t have to do that.”

His features softened. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m always here for you, okay? I–” Jungkook stopped himself. You could both feel what was potentially unfolding, and you wanted to say it as much as he seemingly did. But maybe it wasn’t the best moment to utter those three words when you were high on painkillers and just coming down from the worst kind of rollercoaster ride.

Jungkook kissed your forehead and sighed. “You’re my girlfriend.”

You smiled as the feeling in your chest began to grow warmer than the one pressed into your stomach. Yeah, maybe you did love him. “You’re my boyfriend.”

And those three words were more than enough for now.

Jungkook held you tighter, and you reckoned that if he pressed your bodies closer together, the cap might pop off the heating bottle and burn you both with scalding hot water. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and the tables seemed to have turned, like he was now the one that needed comforting.

“I was so scared. I hated seeing you in pain. I hated it so much. Please don’t do that ever again.”

Sure, loverboy. Not like it was something you purposefully chose to do. But you hummed anyway as you played with his soft hair. Something else erupted in your stomach instead.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

You had gotten used to Jungkook being there to help you through the pain over the past few years. He even downloaded a period tracker app to notify him when you were getting close to shark week.

Every month, regardless of whether it was nearing the time of The Great Cramps or not, you always had your personal care package, curated with love by Jungkook so you could be as comfortable as possible. He made sure to stay by your side whenever he didn’t have classes, out of fear that you might just collapse on the street and be left there to die.

The chances of that happening were slim, but he insisted on the two of you being joined at the hip.

You loved being doted on and babied by Jungkook. You loved being loved by him.

Here you are, bunking with the monthly red demon and the annual ultra cramps. The problem is, The Great Cramps came early this year—August instead of November/December. And it’s your first year without Jungkook too.

It always takes you by surprise, whacking you in the face without any warning. You were in the middle of preparing dinner when the bitch struck, and your legs almost gave out from the sudden pain that ripped through your belly.

A couple of onions fell helplessly to the floor as you abandoned your kitchen counter to rush to your bedroom, plopping onto the mattress and instantly clutching your stomach.

As if the wound in your heart wasn’t still fresh and bleeding; the universe had to dump this on you too. When it rains, it pours.

If you called Taehyung, there was no doubt that he would be here in a heartbeat, going into full Mama Bear mode. But your phone is out there in the kitchen, the painkillers are stashed in your medicine cabinet, and the heating bottle is in a drawer somewhere. You’re paralyzed; all you can do is cry, and wait for this agony to pass.

You miss your mother so much. You and her have always clashed on many things. When you were younger, you were a rebellious teen. Not in the sense that you were out partying all the time and hanging out with bad people. You just wanted to break free of the life trajectory that she envisioned for you, regardless of whether it made you happy or not.

She doesn’t agree with what you chose to study, and she certainly disapproves of what you do for a living. It isn’t enough. You’ve never been enough for your mother.

God knows she didn’t support your relationship with Jungkook, and her disdain for it grew even more after she found out what happened to his family.

But you miss her. Even if you don’t get along, she was still your mother. Whenever you got sick, she would stroke your hair and make sure your pillows were comfortable. Even if the air between the two of you was tense most of the time, homemade soup prepared by your mother always tasted better.

You miss Jungkook too. So terribly much.

Guess that’s just one more person to miss this time of year.

And just like that, the peculiar loneliness returns.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #ficscafe #btswritingcafe #btscarnivalnet #btshoneyhive #bangtaninn #clubzerooclock #52hertz #fic: our beloved summer

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thesandsofelsweyr · 1 year

Text

THE SUS BOY NEXT DOOR

《 PART 2/3 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

《WORDS》 2,748 《CHAPTERS》 1 2 3

《PAIRING》 Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

《TROPES》 Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

《WARNINGS》 Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

《TAGLIST》 @tild3ath @iiirhiane-g

《NOTES》

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

This is my first attempt at a reader-insert fic 🙃

Please consider reblogging if you enjoy the read ❤️ (Thanks for all the support you've given my lil story so far!)

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You push yourself to your feet and hurry over to his kitchen, flipping on the recessed lighting overhead. The kitchen is as bare and spotless as the other rooms you’ve seen, its countertops clear of the usual clutter you’d expect. No rags nor paper towel roll. No knife block nor coffee maker nor toaster—the appliances are the ones that come standard with the unit. No stacks of unopened mail nor candles nor cookbooks nor a sink full of empty dishes. No signs of life except for the adorable houseplant and some liquid hand soap beside the sink (which is good—you need soap).

You pull open drawers and cabinets, feeling a twinge of guilt for invading his privacy like this but it can’t be helped. Even those are mostly empty, only containing the barest amount of necessities like cups, dishes, and flatware—run-of-the-mill kitchen items that were probably provided with the furnished unit. You do manage to find some clean rags and paper towels (and a coffee maker), but nothing like sandwich bags for the ice. On a whim, you check his freezer and bingo! No food or decapitated heads but plenty of ice packs along with an unopened bottle of vodka. You arch an eyebrow at the curious yet amusing stash. Perhaps coming home injured is a typical Friday night for him.

You turn on the sink faucet then tear off a few sheets of paper towels from the roll, wadding them up and wetting them before adding a few pumps of soap then working up a lather. You can’t get the sight of his bleeding face and swollen neck out of your head. It’s hard to imagine anyone doing that to him against his will. He’s an intimidating guy, to say the least. Over a head taller than you, powerfully built with broad shoulders and thick thighs (and a nice ass). Perhaps he got jumped on his walk home—an all too common occurrence on these crime-ridden streets—and his stubborn pride was too wounded to go to the ER. Or maybe it was a gang thing… some sort of hazing ritual? That could explain the bloody letter on his cheek, too, you suppose. But then you remember his shaking hands and fumbling fingers as he tried and failed to unlock his door, and how he jumped at the sound of your voice. He was scared, you realize, your heart swelling with sudden pity. He was more afraid of you than you were of him. Afraid, and probably hurting, too. That thought makes your heart swell even more. It also leaves you a bit shaken. What in God’s name could frighten him? You can only hope that whatever it is doesn’t plan to make a house call anytime soon.

With the items in hand—ice packs, wet and dry rags, soapy paper towel wads, paper towel roll—you return to his side. He still doesn’t appear to have stirred, which is troubling, you have to admit, but you put it out of your mind for now. You set the items down on the floor beside the corpse-like body before grabbing a throw pillow from his couch. (Yes, a throw pillow. There’s a throw blanket on the couch, too. It’s the strongest evidence yet supporting your furnished unit presumption, since he definitely doesn’t strike you as a throw pillow kind of guy.) You kneel down at his side, then, ever so gently, you slip an arm behind his neck and lift his head enough to pull back his hood and slide the pillow beneath him. Next you take off his cap, revealing a mop of sweat-damp black hair. You sweep the soft locks back from his forehead so that you can place a cold rag against that warm, sweat-slick skin.

That’s when you notice the scars. You’d never been close enough to him to see that his face is absolutely covered in them. Faint white lines that cut through his features: his dark brows, his full lips, his freckle-dusted cheeks, the bent bridge of his nose. The worst one (aside from the J on his cheek, that is) is a deep gash that slashes across his right cheek and his nose, all the way up to his forehead. Another knife wound? Is this guy a masochist with a knife fetish or is there some freak out there who gets off on slicing up this poor guy’s face? Those marks on his neck imply the latter—the more sinister of the two—and that sends a cold chill shuddering up your spine.

Almost magnetically your eyes are drawn back past the (cute) cleft in his chin to those sunken bands of red ringing his throat. A thin line of blood has surfaced along the outer edge of one of the bands, where whatever was used to strangle him had cut into his skin. As you wipe away the blood with one of the soapy paper towel wads you spot several scratches on his neck, and for a moment you wonder if the assailant also used his hands to choke him. But then you feel your own throat constrict as the horrible realization sets in: those are claw marks. Gouges from his own fingernails where he desperately struggled to pry the ligature away and free his windpipe so he could breathe. Defensive wounds where he fought for his life.

You set aside the wet wad, then, driven by some morbid curiosity, you find your fingers returning to his throat. Ever so delicately, as if trying not to wake a sleeping lion, you touch one of the raw indentations in his swollen flesh, tracing it with your fingertip, feeling how the abraded skin had folded inward around whatever had coiled around his neck and tried to choke the life out of him. His throat vibrates gently against your probing fingers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. You lay one of the dry rags across his throat, hiding the hideous damage, then place the ice pack on top, as instructed by the health article you Googled. You do the same for the back of his neck as well.

Now you turn your attention back to his scarred, haggard face. After swiping away the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth you press the soapy paper towel to his cheek, which gradually turns from white to pink as it soaks up the blood seeping from the J carved into his flesh. Once you staunch the bleeding, you lift the towel to replace it with a fresh one, and you get an unimpeded view of what was hiding beneath the cut and the blood, beneath his hat and hood all of those times you passed him in the hallway, all of those times he ducked his head between hunched shoulders to avoid eye contact with you. You pull in a sharp breath. It’s not a J-shaped scar; it’s the letter J branded into his cheek. You can tell by how the skin is puckered around the too-precise curve of the raised letter, by its faint red outline, by how it seems to tug uncomfortably at his cheek.

Your mind rewinds to a few weeks back when you accidentally burned your neck with your curling iron. You’d shrieked like a banshee then thrown the damn thing across your bathroom. The blistered patch of seared skin had throbbed for the rest of the night, and was still sensitive to the touch for the following week. That was the result of hot ceramic glancing against your skin for maybe half a second, if that long. You can’t even begin to imagine how much it would’ve hurt to have held the infernal thing against your neck for long enough to melt a fucking letter into the flesh. And not just any flesh. His cheek; that tender skin right below the orbital bone, less than an inch from his eye. It probably felt like his eyeball was boiling in his eye socket from the immense heat. And the smell! His own flesh barbecuing like meat to be served at a cannibal cook-out…

You don’t want to think about it anymore. You can’t think about it anymore or else you’re gonna be sick. And luckily you don’t have to because a low moan slips from his lips and his lashes begin to flutter. A rush of relief floods through you at the small signs of life, and you absently begin to stroke his soft hair with your hand. Heavy eyelids strain to lift then glassy blue eyes are peeking out from between the slits. You smile down at him, your fingers caringly combing through his tousled hair, easing his way back into consciousness. You expect him to groggily ask where he is or what happened to him.

Instead his eyes snap open, and the romantic portrait you’ve painted inside your mind of this moment is ripped to shreds.

He bolts upright, sending rags and ice packs flying away from him, then that massive wall of muscular torso turns on you. Time seems to somehow speed up and slow down simultaneously as those large, dangerous hands of his are reaching for you, and in that terrible instant you know without a doubt that he means to strangle you. A tiny, panic-stricken sound—the choked cry of ensnared prey—comes from your mouth as you throw up your arms across your face and neck in an comically feeble attempt to defend yourself from certain death, and the thought that flashes through your mind—maybe the last thought you’ll ever have in this lifetime—is that you’ll never have the chance to open that bottle of merlot.

But his hands don’t wrap around your throat; they land on your shoulders, and then you’re sliding, falling backwards from the force of a violent shove, your vision flashing to black as your head bounces off the hardwood floor.

“Ow!” you squeal as a bright burst of pain rings through your skull, leaving you stunned for a split second until your fear takes over, clearing away the haze and stars. You push yourself up on your forearm, blood pounding through your ears as your eyes frantically search for your attacker, heart lurching as you find him.

The guy is scrambling backwards away from you on all fours like some frightened beast, slamming into a floor lamp in his haste to escape. The lamp reels drunkenly, throwing light madly around the room as it whirls, like a waving searchlight at a festival. Then he’s pressed into a corner, able to go no further, yet his hands and heels are gripping the floor for purchase, as if he’s trying to push himself into the walls. As the lamp settles, somehow still upright, its light illuminates the hulking figure backed into the corner behind it, and you notice for the first time that the front of his red hoodie is splattered with an even darker red.

You’re sitting up now, frozen like a deer in headlights, your fight or flight reflexes canceling each other out because you’ve realized that you’re the toothless predator, not the prey, and the guy you’re gaping at with his bloodless face and wild eyes is a cornered animal who’ll do anything to survive. Then, to your horror, that cornered animal seems to remember his claws and reaches for the gun that’s not there, and you thank the universe and every holy entity within it that you disarmed him.

His wide eyes narrow as they lock onto you, and the fear that had filled them only a heartbeat ago has vanished, replaced with a look so cold, so devoid of anything but shadows and darkness, that it turns the blood in your veins to ice.

“Who are you? What’re you doing in my apartment? What the fuck did you do with my gun?” Some of the wildness returns to his eyes as he shouts at you with a scarred voice, wheezing between each sentence. You shrink back, shocked that the guy can speak louder than a mumble, then your attention is caught by something more unnerving than his shouting, something that clutches at your insides. His eyes… The little hairs on the back of your neck stir again as you study those pale blue irises flecked with green, barely visible beneath his blown-out pupils yet still trained on you like a sniper’s laser sights. There’s something wrong with his eyes… But before you can figure it out he roars: “Answer me!” and you can’t help but jump at the hateful ferocity, his deadly strength palpable in his tone.

Your heart’s in your throat again, and your mind is racing out his door, terrified all 200-something pounds of him are about to pounce on you, so you’re surprised when you not only find your words, but shout them back at him, just as vicious.

“Take it easy! I'm your neighbor, remember? You passed out. I was trying to help you. I thought you were fucking dying!”

You see a flicker of recognition flash over his face before a coughing fit takes him. Then it hits you, like a punch to the gut as you watch him clutching at his blood-splattered chest again as he gasps for a breath. His eyes… they’re red where they should be white. All of the binged episodes of Forensic Files come flooding back to you and you even remember the term for it: petechial hemorrhaging. Burst blood vessels from strangulation. His strangulation.

The rush of pity that wells up in your chest at the awful realization calms your fear enough that you crawl a tiny bit closer to him. “You’re hurt,” you say gently, trying to keep your nerves from shaking your voice. “Your neck…”

You trail off as his eyes snap back to you, pupils still blown wide. You try to hold onto his skittish gaze, praying he won’t notice his gun behind you and lunge, but his eyes fall away to the floor. He raises his free hand to his neck, as slowly as if his wrists were chained to the floor, and touches one of the red furrows there. Then his trembling fingers move to his brand, where fresh beads of blood have surfaced. You hear him mutter something so low and tremulous it’s barely audible, but you think it sounded like… “Plan J”?

“I cleaned it with soap and water,” you reply as he stares blankly at his bloody fingertips. “But it’s deep. You may need stitches. I can bring you some Band-Aids,” you pause, feeling really fucking stupid for suggesting Band-Aids for the guy who’s been strangled and cut and branded. You blurt out the rest: “If you need them… for the time being.”

His eyes have glazed over, as if he’s gone somewhere far away. Somewhere terrible, because his rasping breath quickens and his whole body starts to shake, as though he’s reliving something. His attack? His branding? All of the times that monster of a person cut his face? You desperately want to reach for his hand, to pull him back from whatever hell he’s been sucked into, but you’re too scared to wake that cornered wild animal again.

Finally he snaps out of it, and his eyes close as his hand drops limply to the floor. You watch helplessly as the tension drains from his body and he sags forward, like he’s been crushed by whatever was waiting for him in that flashback.

“You should go,” he mumbles to the floor, barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself agree. As you stand you remind yourself that you can finally have that glass of wine, but the notion isn’t as appealing as it was earlier in the night.

You gather up your phone and bag. You start to ask if you can get him anything before you go but you know his answer so you turn to leave.

“Thank you.” His small voice cracks like a little boy’s when he speaks, and you know he’s started to cry.

“Yeah, sure,” you say softly as you turn the knob and push open his door. You glance over your shoulder at him one last time. The sight of the broken boy—the boy whose name you still don’t know—huddled in a corner with his knees pulled to his chest, weeping into his hands, wrings your heart out like a wet rag, and you feel your own throat tighten up with tears. You hang your head as you shut the door softly behind you.

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