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#like the pain?? the angst??? I fucking love this
steveslevis · 2 days
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i love you, it’s ruining my life
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azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 1 of 3
summary: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be your brother’s best friend’s mate, especially when that best friend is the same male who’s acted like you don’t exist for the last two centuries.
warnings: angst, very brief mentions of violence and abuse, azriel is oblivious and reader is angry, not much pining in this part mainly just angsty
A single band of golden thread, stretched from your soul, reaching out into an abyss. There was seemingly no end to the thread, no definite stop, just a shadowy mess that sent the thread into a disarray as it reached for your mate. 
Your mate. The male who had spoken maybe a full sentence to you a handful of times in the last few centuries. The male who was best friends with your brother, and acted as if you didn’t even exist.
Even in your younger years in Windhaven, it seemed Azriel didn’t even know you were there. Like you were a ghost, invisible to him in every sense of the word. 
Azriel didn’t ever really speak to anyone, though, so it wasn’t like you were an exception, he treated you like most everyone else. But you never had been able to shake the fact that he would nearly sprint out of a room if you were the only one in it, or that he would refuse to look you in the eyes when you spoke at dinner. It was like he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same vicinity of you, like he couldn’t stomach talking to you. 
And you were now bound to him, for the rest of eternity.
The bond had snapped for you immediately upon seeing the state of Azriel when they returned from Hybern without Feyre, when the entirety of their plan had gone up in flames, with Azriel in the main path of destruction. 
Seeing him in so much pain tugged at your heart, nearly ripping it out of your chest when you saw how ruined his wings were. It affected you so much that you ran out of the room when they first arrived, partially because of how much it hurt you to see him like that, and partially because of how distraught the bond snapping into place had immediately made you feel. You couldn’t bear to see your mate in so much pain, and you knew you didn’t trust yourself to be around when they inevitably put him into more pain while healing him. 
You kept to yourself for weeks after their arrival, only speaking to Rhysand and your brother when need be. 
Rhys was the first one to find out about your dilemma.
He called you into his study weeks later to talk about a mission, one he needed you specifically on for your daemati skills. While he explained the details, he could tell your mind was elsewhere, so much so that you couldn’t even stop him from getting past the pure obsidian wall you’d built up in your mind, the wall you never let anyone break down until that moment. 
Rhysand had given you a hesitant look when he stopped explaining the tasks in order to peer into your mind and capture your attention. He didn’t want to pry, only to get your mind focused by scaling his talon down the obsidian wall, which to his surprise collapsed before he could even attempt to breach it. But you nodded when he silently asked to see what had been keeping you so on edge, what had stopped you from helping Madja out with taking care of Azriel when they returned from Hybern, what had stopped you from engaging in conversation at dinner as of late.
A vision of a golden thread shrouded in black and gray shadows was sent to Rhys’ mind, along with a memory of exactly the moment you had been struck with the bond. 
“Have you told him?” he implored, though he seemed to already know the answer. 
You couldn’t even speak at that point, only shaking your head in response as tears brimmed your eyes when you thought of how fucked up it was to be bonded to someone who’d barely acknowledged you in the hundreds of years you’d known him. 
Rhys gave you a sympathetic look then, knowing the feeling of an unrequited bond all too well. 
You promised him about a thousand times that you wouldn’t let him find out, that you wouldn’t let the agony and sadness get in the way of the mission. You could prove yourself worthy and able to go on without thinking about how you might never get an accepted bond, you assured him that you could. He was still unsure when he agreed to let you go on the mission, but it was miniscule enough that any lapses in judgment wouldn’t be detrimental, so he agreed.
And you proved yourself, just like you said you would. You proved yourself over and over again with Rhysand’s missions, building up your mental shields stronger than they ever had been before. So strong, that the High Lord himself had a hard time cracking through them. 
You became a shell of what you were before seeing your mate in that near-death state, but you didn’t care. You needed to distract yourself in any way, shape or form that you could in order to forget about him, to forget that he’d never even taken a second glance in your direction. 
It got to the point where you became so shut off from reality that even Cassian, your brother known for paying no mind to female emotions, started to notice. 
You caught Cassian giving you inquisitive stares a handful of times during training and at dinners when your attitude was exceptionally reserved and demure, but never thought he would actually say anything to you. 
That was until he finally snapped, on the first dinner with Feyre back in Velaris, which just so happened to be the first dinner that Azriel joined in the weeks after Hybern.
You nearly fell out of your seat when you saw him in all his glory. There he was, standing at the end of the table, as beautiful as ever. He was almost fully healed, aside from a few scars littered over the membrane of his wings. 
Excited chatter filled the room as he entered, everyone falling into their rightful place in the Inner Circle, along with the newest members, Nesta and Elain. Though you were one of the longest standing members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, you felt the most out of place in that moment.
The wine you’d been sipping churned in your stomach as you eyed the shadowsinger, who was sitting quietly across the table from you. You couldn’t handle it, knowing that he was your mate and he had no clue. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him finding out, of him potentially rejecting the bond. 
After a moment of silently wallowing in your self pity, you felt that familiar talon scrape along your mental shield. Rhys was requesting access to your mind, likely to give you some insight about this unrequited feeling based on his own experience. 
You rejected his request instead of letting him in, shooting him a quick glance before standing up abruptly, quietly excusing yourself with the reasoning that you weren’t feeling well. 
You rushed up the stairs, toward your bedroom all the while feeling like you were drowning. You needed air, fresh air, now. It was in that moment that you thanked the Cauldron for Rhysand putting you in the bedroom with a large balcony, one perfect for moments like this. 
Little did you know, your brother had stalked up the stairs behind you, worried after seeing the panic-stricken look on your face before bolting from the room.
You didn’t bother to close your bedroom door behind you, leaving Cassian the perfect opportunity to come in to check on you. You were out on the balcony in an instant, nearly gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit your face. 
“Hey,” Cassian called behind you, standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom. “You alright?”
“I don’t want to talk right now, Cass.” you retort quickly, shooting a glare in his direction before leaning over the metal railing as he furrows his brow. “I obviously don’t feel great at the moment.”
“Yeah, no shit. But that doesn’t warrant you snapping at me when all I’m doing is coming to check on you,” he presses, taking a step onto the balcony to stand by you. “It doesn’t warrant you ignoring me for fucking weeks now.” 
“What do you want me to say, Cassian?” you snap, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I—I don’t really know what kind of explanation you need from me, I just haven’t been in a talking mood these last few weeks.”
“Oh, bullshit.” he says, shaking his head at you. “I see you chatting with Rhys and Mor all the fucking time. You’re only shutting me out. What the fuck did I do?”
You take a moment to look up at your brother, finally seeing the hurt sketched across his features as he pleads with you, trying desperately to get through to you. 
“You didn’t do anything.” you sigh, letting your guard down as you realize how much you’d hurt your twin in the last few weeks. “I—I just am going through some shit right now.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” he says, nudging your arm with his elbow as a relieved but hesitant smile passes over his face. “I’m always here to lend an ear.”
“Are you sure?” you say, voice cracking as you internally accept that you’re about to change everything in Cassian’s life with four simple words. 
“Positive.” Cassian says, smile still on his face as he grips your shoulder to reassure you.
“Azriel is my mate.” you say bluntly, watching in silent terror as your brother’s face falls and so does his hand from your shoulder. “And he has no idea.”
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That was almost two years ago. 
Cassian took the news quite well, and became your biggest supporter when it came to dealing with the hardships of an unrequited mating bond. Even as he dealt with his own unrequited bond for a short amount of time, he still made sure to make it known that he still cared for and understood the pain you were going through. 
And now that the war against Hybern had been won, you could focus all your energy into training and missions Rhys would send you on. 
Rhysand knew you preferred to be sent on solo missions, that you worked better alone without anyone disrupting your focus. But, there were some missions that couldn’t be done alone. 
“You–This is a joke, right?” you say with a laugh, narrowing your eyes at the High Lord who sat across the desk in his office, raising his eyebrow at you as you laugh. “I work alone, Rhys.”
“I know you work best alone, but sometimes I can’t send you alone,” Rhys starts, giving you a sharp glare as you start to stand from your chair, “I can’t send you alone, not on this one.” 
“Why?” you pressed, pushing off the arms of your chair to move closer to the desk. “You haven’t even told me what I’m doing or where I’ll be going yet, so why should I even agree to it without knowing?”
The look the High Lord was giving you made you uneasy, turning your stomach in knots, but you persisted. You needed him to stop treating you like you were made of glass, like you would break, like you hadn’t been training with Cassian since you could stand. 
“I’m not a child anymore, Rhys.” you snapped, hands balling into fists as they pressed against the oak of his large desk. “I can handle whatever it is, without Azriel babysitting me.”
“I really don’t know–”
“Are you trying to torture me?” you interject, a pained expression crossing over your face, one of betrayal at the feeling of one of your longest friends trying to put you in such an uncomfortable position when he knows exactly what you’ve been dealing with over the last two years. “Are you trying to make me suffer, do you want me to –”
“I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys finally commanded, voice wavering slightly as he brought up the place you once called home, the place he knew would send you regressing into a lesser version of yourself. “I need you to go there, with Azriel.”
The mention of Windhaven sent a shiver down your spine, wings twitching in fear as you thought about the horrors you endured in your final years at the camp. Your sharp gaze flickered for a split second, mind running back to that cabin, to the flash of wings and clawing hands, to the male who did irreparable damage to your soul, to the moment you swore you’d never let a male hurt you again. With a shake of your head, you block the thoughts out, pressing that black obsidian wall back up to prevent yourself from breaking. 
“I’ll be fine on my own.” you say, putting your stern persona back into place, trying to make it seem as though you’re unbothered. 
“I need to send him with you, someone needs to watch your back.” he insists while shaking his head as his gaze softens, trying to get you to break from your hardened facade. 
“What about Cass?” you retort, shaking your head.
“He’ll be in Spring, he’s got business with Tamlin and Eris to attend to for me.” he quickly replies, shaking his own head. “Please, I need you to do this.” 
“I–I can’t.”
“Is the thought of being alone with me for two days that bad?” a voice comes from behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.
Your mate, just the person you didn’t want to see right now. 
You whip around quickly at the sound of his voice, brow furrowed as you see him standing in the doorway. It takes everything in you not to sigh at the sight of him, at how damn good he looked, just standing there. You cursed yourself internally, wishing you could think about anything else besides how much you pined for him. Still, you had an image to uphold, an image of distaste for the beautiful shadowsinger standing in front of you.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, shadowsinger.” you snap, shooting a glare in his direction that sends a pang of guilt running down the one-sided bond. 
“I’m sorry?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his face the poster child for cool composure as your rage boils in front of him. 
“You can barely stand to be in the same room for me for more than five minutes,” you state, crossing your arms matter-of-factly. “You quite literally leave any space in the house when I’m the only other person around.”
The thought of your mate, the one who was supposed to be at your side for all of eternity, leaving the room any time you entered made your blood boil and chest ache. You ached for him, you ached to feel his touch, to be loved by him. But he didn’t care about you, didn’t care if you lived or died. 
Seeing the anger in your eyes made Azriel stop in his tracks, something unfamiliar tugging at his heart as you seethed. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest as he thought about the last five hundred years, how he never paid you any mind. 
The truth was, he avoided you with every bit of willpower he had in order to restrain himself. He couldn’t be around you for more than a few moments without your overpowering scent filling his nose feeding his desire to tear you apart. Every time he was with you alone, he wanted to tear down any walls that he had and just have at you, to have you as his. He wanted you carnally, he wanted all of you, all of the time.
But that wasn’t the kind of male he was. He would never do such a thing to Cassian, his best friend. He couldn’t let himself have you just to fulfill his deepest desires, you deserved so much more than to be some one night fling. You deserved to be loved and cared for, to be protected at all costs. 
So he had ignored you, for almost five fucking centuries, because he thought he couldn’t give you what you deserved. He pushed out any thought he had about you, pushed away the urge to pursue you in any way, and pushed you away in the process. He knew you well from watching from afar, but to you it seemed as though you were the last thought in his mind, when in reality, you were the only thought in his mind at all times. 
“That’s not–” Azriel started, but the words fell on his lips as he watched your own pull into a frown, an expression that was much more broken than the anger that had crossed over your face when he snuck in. 
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought, you prick.” you said weakly, finally letting your emotions get the better of you. As tears pricked your eyes, you turned to Rhys once more. “I will not be going anywhere with him. I will be going by myself, or not at all. I am strong enough to do this on my own and I’m tired of being treated like a child in this court.” 
Rhys only stared at you as you stalked towards the desk once again, watching as your hands shook with pain. He showed no change in emotion as you spoke, fully in High Lord mode instead of the Rhysand you knew and loved. 
“I will be in my room, packing. When you’re done being a stubborn male and realize that I can do whatever the hell it is you need me to do, I’ll be waiting for further instructions.” you state, trying to choke back the tears that are threatening to flow onto the wood in front of your hands. 
The High Lord nods firmly in response, and you turn on your heels. Azriel is still standing in the doorway, but you don’t dare to look at him. You push past the shadowsinger, swiping your cheeks hastily as tears fall down them. As you pass, your wing brushes his in the lightest of touches. You swallow a gasp as they touch, a shockwave flowing through your wing and going straight to your heart. 
Azriel turns to gaze at you with wide eyes and you immediately know he felt it too. He felt the shock, the electricity between your wings, but not in the way you did. Not down the one-sided, golden bond that stretched toward him. 
Confusion spread over his face as he looked at you, but you turned away and rushed towards your room before he could fully process what happened. 
The rest of your afternoon was spent alone in your room, laying on your bed for most of the night as you stared up at the ceiling. You cursed yourself internally over and over again, wishing there were some way to change everything, some way to make you forget that you even had a mate. 
Over and over again, you told yourself how you weren’t worthy of the immeasurable love that came with a mate, how you would never be good enough for Azriel. 
It had always been like that for you, though. The feeling of inadequacy was a daily occurrence for you, it wasn’t a secret. Cassian knew it, and so did Rhysand, so you’re sure Azriel did too. You worked day in and day out trying to prove that you were worthy to your brother and the High Lord and everyone around you, regardless of the pain you put yourself in.
Rhysand knew you too well, and knew that you were all too serious about going on the mission by yourself, or at least without Azriel. After you left his office, he’d tried to speak to Cassian about accompanying you, but it was of no use, he was preoccupied. He didn’t want you to go by yourself, he knew you’d be scared just by being in Windhaven again, but he also knew that you being the one to go on this mission was the only hope. 
Your untraceable daemati skills were an impeccable weapon that couldn’t be replaced by Azriel’s shadows or Cassian’s brute force. Even the High Lord himself didn’t have daemati powers as stealthful as yours, so you were the best option when it came to figuring out who was trying to rebel. 
After much contemplation, Rhys eventually sent a concise and firm message to your mind.
I need you in Windhaven by dinner tonight, Devlon will be expecting you to be there. There are a few Illyrians that I need you to check in on while you’re there, Cass told me there are talks of rebellion led by Cormac and Bavlard. he explained, you should only need to be there for tonight to gather enough information, but plan to stay until tomorrow evening in case we need more intel. You’ll stay in the cabin as usual, I’ll be in contact regularly to check on you, since you’ll be on your own this time.
The last sentence had a smile flickering on your lips, happy that Rhysand was finally taking you seriously as a member of his Inner Circle and trusting you enough to send you on missions by yourself. Luckily, you were already packed so it didn’t take much for you to get ready to go. 
In less than an hour, you were dressed in your fighting leathers and on the balcony of your room. You waste no time in flying from the house, large wings spreading for the first time in what feels like forever as you make for the sky.
The breeze against your skin makes you sigh with joy, trying to enjoy the twinge of happiness that flying gives you as you make your way towards the place you once called home, the place you now call hell.
taglist: @paleidiot @tothestarsandwhateverend @impossibelle
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romanticintheory · 2 days
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Hello!!!! I was wondering if you could write an angst with Ghost/Simon where the reader was too clingy after having a bad day and he lashed out on her but he didn't think anything of it because the next day the reader was acting normal. He only noticed after a few weeks when reader became more distant and quiet. Feel free to ignore if it's too weird or you don't like it!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
this one is dedicated to all the ones who were hurt and never got that apology. hope this alleviates the pain.
simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader || masterlist || request rules
-there was no one specific reason as to why today turned out to be a bad day. it just was.
-from accidentally burning yourself trying to make breakfast after waking up late to having to deal with the most insufferable customers, it just wasn't your day today.
-but it was okay, because you had simon to return to when everything was said and done.
-the frown on your face immediately softens the moment you see him walk through the door to your shared home. as soon as he pulls his mask and boots off, you make your way toward him and engulf him in a tight hug.
-you are painfully (but understandably) unaware of the thin veil of his patience and the frustration that had been brewing within him in the past few hours. he half-heartedly returns the embrace.
-"how was your day, si?" you ask him gently.
-"fine," he responds shortly, hoping there isn't more to the conversation.
-even after you pull away from him, you trail behind him as he moves around the house. this wasn't irregular behavior from either of you. simon wasn't usually the most talkative person in the room, anyway, but he loved to hear your voice. that was one of the things he loved about the two of you together; you filled the space he couldn't.
-today, though, was different. he was pissed off at all different kinds of people. for some reason, couldn't bring himself to tell you that he was having a bad day and needed some space, especially because it was evident you were having a bad one yourself.
-so when he turned on his heel after listening to your rambles for as much as he could take and lashed out at you, he tried not to think about the unbearable amount of guilt seeping into his veins.
-"would you just stop clinging to me for five minutes? god, 's like i can't get away from you or your constant fucking talking!"
-you had heard stories, mostly from simon, about the kind of man he could be when pushed to his limit. mostly, it was of violent, physical acts when it came to work or protecting the ones he loved. other times, he would tell you about when he'd lash out at others just like he did to you, now, and he always told it to you with a quiet fear. there was an unspoken meaning to him telling you about the times he's acted out: i don't want to do the same to you. i don't want to hurt you.
-but here he was, towering over you with a coldness in his eyes and a dryness in his throat from the sheer volume of his words.
-averting your gaze from his, you let out a meek, "'m sorry," and watch as he slams the door in front of your face.
-when he slinks into bed next to your sleeping form later that night, ridden with shame and guilt, he misses the tear-stained face hidden from him. after his outburst, you felt like all of the energy in your body had been taken away from you and retreated to bed early. you cried on and off for hours.
-you always thought you had a clinging problem. it was an insecurity you carried with you starting from childhood. friends would become acquaintances and family would keep you at arms-length. after years of believing the issue was you, simon walked into your life and told you different.
-if you stopped talking because you thought he stopped listening and was uninterested, he'd always turn back to you and genuinely ask why you stopped talking. whenever you apologized for hugging him for too long or asking to spend time with him for the third time that week, he'd always tilt his head at you and say in that low, sincere voice, "but i love you?"
-for all those reasons, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt despite how much he hurt you. so, when he tries to bring it up the next morning, you do your best to brush it off. he was having a bad day. that was all. no need to make a fuss.
-"listen, love," he calls to you as you pop your piece of toast out of the toaster. "about last night-"
-completely disregarding his words, you look at the clock and stuff your phone into your pocket. "it's fine. honestly, simon," you tell him with the best smile you could muster. "i'm gonna be late. i'll see you tonight."
-you were so adamant on getting out as quick as possible that simon had no time to respond. he thought to himself that maybe he was making a bigger deal out of it than you. maybe there were no hard feelings and you were completely fine. after all, he was always overly worried for you, anyway.
-so, when you came home, he didn't mention it. it was as if last night didn't happen, and the two of you were perfectly fine. there were times where simon thought you were being a bit more restrained in your movements or words, but he tried to chalk it up to just him being overly paranoid. you said it was fine, so it was better not to push you on it, right?
-at first, you were doing really good at keeping yourself from overthinking the situation. however, as time went on and you paid more attention to how you acted around your boyfriend, you began to wonder if you were really that clingy.
-as the week progressed, your state of mind would deteriorate. what if it wasn't just a bad day? what if that was what he thought the entire time and was just waiting for the right moment to tell you? had he just been trying to cheer you up about your insecurities the entire time? and if he was, how much of this relationship was even real, then?
-the more you thought about it, the more distant you became. the last thing you wanted to do was make simon feel like he was being suffocated by you. you slowly stopped initiating physical affection with him, restricted talking about your day to a few sentences, and tried to answer simon's questions in one word when possible.
-he notices. of course he notices, it was like a stranger was living where you were supposed to be, and he missed it. he missed you.
-he asks you about your change when you're getting ready for bed, pulling the rest of your nightshirt over your head. despite being exhausted from work and looking like you were sitting out in the wind, he thought you never looked more ethereal than you did now.
-"(y/n)," he said.
-"hm?" you hummed to him, not turning toward his direction. you sat down on the edge of your side of the bed, turning off the lamp at the same time.
-your lack of emotional presence was starting to eat at him. he sat down next to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight and forcing you to lean toward him.
-"you alright?"
-"yes. why?"
-"i dunno, you just seem..." his eyes tried to find yours, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. "quiet."
-it was then that you looked at him, and it was scary to simon because he couldn't make out the emotion in your expression. there was nothing he could read.
-"isn't that-" you had to pause to try and stabilize your wavering voice. "isn't that what you wanted?"
-there was a tension-filled silence that settled in the room, and for a second you were worried that what you said was somehow incredibly offensive.
-finally, he chokes out, "i'm sorry."
-again, you try to muster up a smile. "it's fine, i already told you. i should've known you wanted space."
-"no."
-"no?"
-"it was my fault," he explains. "how could you 'ave known? i didn't tell you i wasn't in the mood that day, and that's not even considering the way i talked to you. i shouldn't have- nothing excuses what i said to you."
-still, you were convinced you were to blame. "well, i have a history of being clingy, so," you were trying to come up with more excuses for him. for most of your life, you had decided that you were the issue. it couldn't be any other way, right?
-"i know. it's one of the things i love you for," he says quietly. "not to sound cheesy but it's what makes you you, and i don't want you to lose that jus' 'cause i'm still shitty at communication."
-you knew in some capacity he was right. there was no excuse for how he talked to you, but the next words you wanted to say evaded you.
-simon thought about talking some more. instead, he grasped your back with one hand and slid his other underneath your legs, repositioning you on his lap. it was like a silent plea from him, a way of proving that he wanted to be close to you just as much as you wanted to be close to him.
-"you're sure i'm not too clingy?" you ask tentatively.
-"positive," he reassures you, rubbing small circles on your back with his thumb. "you wanna know something?"
-"what?"
-"if i wasn't so fucked up-"
-"you're not fucked up."
-"right." you never let him talk badly about himself. that was something he was still getting used to after all this time. being loved and learning to love himself. "well, if i didn't grow up the way i did and became the person i am, i'd probably be way clingier than you."
-"that's impossible," you deny, unconsciously letting yourself lean into his touch.
-"you don't know how much i want you. if my mind and body would let me, i'd be close to you all the time, showing you the attention you deserve."
-"you give me plenty."
-"agree to disagree," he stops with the circles and pulls you impossibly closer to his body. "but 'm trying. 'm trying to learn to let you love me and to not be afraid to love you. 'm sorry, love. i stopped trying that night, and i think it'll be the death of me."
-you let his words sink in, a thoughtful look on your face.
-"next time you'll tell me, right? what you're thinking?"
-"pinkie promise," he agrees, letting the hand under your legs slide out and raise his pinkie finger toward you.
-in return, you link your pinkie with his to seal the promise, and it feels as though the heavy tension in the air has cleared away.
-"i love you," he says, feeling bold from his previous admission.
-"i love you, too." there's that smile on your face. he never realized until now how he probably couldn't live without it.
-he kisses you on the lips, and for a moment the two of you just stay there in each other's arms, forgiving the past, healing the present, and dreaming of the future together.
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tsukimefuku · 2 days
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blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento
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summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.
tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 
wc: 7.5k
notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.
writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).
disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.
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oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?
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It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.
Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.
During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.
One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 
"Are you certain it was him?"
"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."
"And how many students did he…"
"Two students from Kyoto."
Your head instantly felt dizzy.
"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."
"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.
 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"
Gojo was silent for a few moments.
"Hey…"
"Tell me. I can take it."
After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.
"Yes. It will."
Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.
For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.
"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."
"Of course."
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Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.
He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.
There had been a few casualties, though.
Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.
Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.
To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 
That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.
They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.
Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 
Help was late to arrive.
They were too late for Haibara.
And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.
The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”
At least
There is a body 
To be buried
Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?
In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.
You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.
Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.
In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 
In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.
His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.
He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.
"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.
"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."
"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.
As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 
You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.
"Precisely."
"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."
You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.
For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.
His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.
Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.
Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.
You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.
Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.
"Why did you do it?"
Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.
"It was a necessary means to an end."
His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.
You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.
"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"
"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."
"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"
Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.
"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."
You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.
"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"
He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 
"Don't say his name."
Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.
But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.
This wasn't the case now.
Not entirely, at least.
"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.
"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."
"I'm not a would've been!"
You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 
You finally understood you were in love with him.
Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.
However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.
That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.
After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.
At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.
Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.
It felt like a promise.
Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.
What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.
What a cruel irony.
"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.
"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.
What a fucking low blow.
"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"
You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.
He diverted his gaze back to the window.
"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 
Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.
"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"
"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"
Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.
It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.
And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.
The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.
According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.
And you weren't there.
Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 
The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 
That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.
Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.
You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.
This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?
We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?
Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.
"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."
He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.
"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."
By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.
"The hell I did!"
You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.
"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."
"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."
You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.
"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 
Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.
"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."
He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.
"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."
"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.
"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"
"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."
Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.
"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."
In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.
However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.
Your own body held you back from taking his life.
He didn't seem to notice.
Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.
"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.
"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.
"You were never the practical one."
You scoffed.
"Guess I learned something from you."
He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 
Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.
You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 
Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.
The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.
You were cornered.
This is it.
You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.
Precise, just as he was.
Deadly, just as he was, too.
You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.
This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.
However, the impact never came.
His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 
“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.
“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 
“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”
You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.
“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 
He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.
“I hate you as well.”
For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 
The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.
"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."
His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.
"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.
"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.
Just fucking kill me already.
His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?
Did he hate you that much?
His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 
His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.
You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.
When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.
"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.
"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.
He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.
You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.
"What?"
You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.
"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.
His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.
Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.
I should be over her by now, dammit.
Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.
You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.
The way he'd cup your face in his hands.
 So delicate, so lovely.
This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.
"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.
He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.
He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.
You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.
"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.
"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.
His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.
In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.
A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.
You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 
Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.
This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.
He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.
Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.
His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.
"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."
You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.
"Go fuck yours-"
Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.
He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.
"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.
His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.
He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."
You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.
"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.
"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 
Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.
You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.
With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.
“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”
His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.
To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.
Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.
“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.
He couldn't help it.
Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.
He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 
Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.
In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.
Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.
He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.
Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.
You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.
Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.
You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.
If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.
“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”
You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.
After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.
You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.
For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.
With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.
“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 
“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.
But it couldn’t.
You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.
And wouldn’t go now, either.
That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.
Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.
“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.
You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.
Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.
His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.
After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.
You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.
You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.
In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.
But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.
He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 
Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.
You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 
Good riddance to me, I suppose.
His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.
He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.
“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 
You could kiss him like this forever. 
You actually wanted to, at that moment.
To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 
Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.
Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.
You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.
Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.
Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.
Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.
Just like you were.
And just like Nanami was.
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You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.
“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.
You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.
“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”
For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.
The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.
“Why?”
“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”
He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.
Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.
“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.
“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”
He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.
With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 
“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”
For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”
Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.
He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.
You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.
But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.
Not with him, but with the people he had killed.
Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.
It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 
In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.
The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.
With a decade’s old delay.
“I… just can’t. I can’t.”
Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 
He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.
He felt pathetically small.
Guess we get what we deserve, after all.
“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.
You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.
“Go to hell.”
He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.
Sad.
“We’re already here.” 
At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.
You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.
If only the world had been a little kinder.
But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.
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End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉
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Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000
@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa
@codenamesongbird
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alltheirdamn · 17 hours
Text
Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)
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Chap. 7 The Past
Summary: Memories of the past suspended in time. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 6k Warnings: Pre-Outbreak AU, mentions of past trauma, mentions of loss and grief, mild violence, language, mentions of alcohol, yearning, angst A/N: Dare I say, this is my favorite chapter yet. If you haven't connected the pieces by now, then this will answer every question you've had. There were so many signs along the way, and I encourage you to go back and find each and every one. I know this doesn't soothe the heartbreak of the cliffhanger but please know this chapter is IMPORTANT. And we can all agree that Joel is the STANDARD. * I want to thank @loonmartell for helping me navigate this idea and creating a beautiful story that is slowly coming to fruition. You are truly a mastermind, and I give you all my thanks and love*
Masterlist | Ko-fi
~Three and a half years ago~
Joel paced the waiting room, consumed with guilt and anger. He shouldn’t have let you leave that night. Bennett had called you asking to meet for dinner under the guise of wanting to give back the things he still had been holding onto. Joel should have gone with you, should have told you to stay, should have broken Bennett’s jaw. Joel couldn’t have forced you to stay; he knew you needed closure. After the downfall of your relationship with Bennett, you deserved answers.
Whatever happened between leaving his house and the accident would remain a mystery, and Joel was ready to track Bennett down to find out the truth, but right now, all that mattered was you. 
Your mom rounded the corner, followed by the doctor, both of their faces grim. Joel’s knees threatened to buckle under him, the worst possible scenarios running through his head. 
“How is she? Is she alright?” He asked, the words jumbled together and confused.
The doctor raised a hand to slow Joel’s frenzy, and your mom’s eyes stared at the floor.
“She’s awake,” the doctor started. “But there were some… complications. We just finished taking her for some tests, and we’ve determined she’s sustained a form of retrograde amnesia.”
“She can’t remember the crash?” Joel questioned. He swiped his sweaty palms over the denim of his jeans, anxiety bubbling in his chest.
“After analyzing her CT scans and running some cognitive tests, it looks like she’s lost a large chunk of her memory,” the doctor explained.
“How large are we talkin’, doc? A few months?”
Your mom stepped forward, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. 
“She asked for Bennett when she woke up,” she whispered. 
“What the hell does that mean?” Joel snapped. 
“She has no recollection of the last two years,” the doctor said.
Joel staggered back, dragging a hand down his face. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t fucking happening.
“You’re tellin’ me she has no memory of me?” Joel shouted. 
“Joel, calm down,” your mom hushed, her eyes darting around the crowded waiting room. 
“Calm down?” He echoed. “Jesus, she doesn’t fuckin’ remember me! I need to see her. I need to—I need to tell her.”
The doctor stepped forward, a frown creasing his face.
“It’s imperative that we don’t disrupt her current condition. Any interference with her memory may cause more complications with the amnesia. If we force these forgotten memories on her, it’ll cause too much stress on her brain and ultimately lead to permanent damage. If we want her to regain her memory, we need to wait.”
“How long?” Joel pleaded. “How long do I need to wait?”
“We don’t know,” the doctor sighed. “With amnesia this serious, it could take weeks or even years. There’s no way to determine the timeline right now.”
Joel’s anger flared up, and he slammed his fist into the wall beside him. The pain radiating up his knuckles and hand was nothing in comparison to the pain splintering inside his chest. He was losing you, and you didn’t even realize it.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” the doctor said. “I know this isn’t easy, but it’s what’s best for her and her recovery right now.”
“But she doesn’t—.” Joel couldn’t get the words out. 
He crumpled to the ground with his head in his hands—two years' worth of memories together gone in a matter of seconds. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t know Joel loved you; you didn’t remember that you loved him. 
“Joel, sweetie,” your mom cautioned, crouching beside Joel. “You said she was with Bennett before the crash, right?”
Joel lifted his head and glared at your mom through teary eyes. He didn’t want to be reminded that Bennett had returned; he didn’t want to fathom the idea of him being in your life again.
“Don’t tell me you’re seriously thinkin’ about tellin’ him all this,” Joel said. “Y’know what he’s like with her. I can’t let her go and watch her be with him.”
“We need to contact him at least and tell him. If she thinks they’re still together…we must maintain that memory. We have to try. If it’s something Bennett wants and is willing to do, then we have to. I know you want to tell her everything, but her brain is so fragile right now. It’ll scare her, and I can’t risk losing my daughter entirely. Joel, I need you to understand what's best for her.”
“And y’all seriously think Bennett is what’s best for her?” Joel laughed bitterly.
“Of course we don’t, honey. The thought of Bennett comin’ back around kills me, but what if there’s a chance her memory will return sooner than we think? She won’t have to keep him in her life forever, but only until everything comes back to her.”
“And what if it doesn’t? Y’expect me to watch the woman of my dreams love another man? What if one day they get married? Or have kids? I’m supposed to pretend like none of this ever happened?” 
Christ, the thought of that made Joel sick. He didn’t want to see you continue the rest of your life with a man who didn’t treat you right. He couldn’t do this… He couldn’t stomach this plan. 
“Joel, listen to me,” your mom hissed, grabbing him by the collar. “We need to play the long game, okay? I’m not giving up hope on my daughter, and I know you won’t either. You love her, don’t you?”
Joel nodded helplessly, mouthing the word ‘yes.’
“Then wait for her. It won’t be easy for any of us, but we all need to want this. I’ll talk to my husband and the girls about this, and we’ll work through all the details. Lying isn’t easy, but it might be what ends up saving her memory.”
That night, Bennett showed up at the hospital. 
Joel wasn’t in his right mind when Bennett walked into the waiting room. The moment he saw his smug grin and floppy blonde hair, Joel lost it. 
“Motherfucker!” Joel yelled, sending his fist straight into Bennett’s jaw. 
Bennett reeled over, staggering back into a waiting room chair, while your dad pulled Joel away. A murmur of voices among the other bystanders dragged Joel from his vengeful haze, and he stared at Bennett unamused. He wanted to see him suffer the way he had been suffering. 
Bennett worked his jaw back and forth, glaring at Joel as he sat beside your mom. 
“This is the thanks I get for agreeing to meet with you guys?” Bennett huffed. 
“It’s your fault she’s in that fuckin’ bed,” Joel snapped. 
His body still thrummed with unbridled rage, his hands shaking at his sides. Stella, Beth, and your parents were all gathered around the waiting room, taking their respective spots in one of the chairs. Joel couldn’t sit. He didn’t want to be any part of this. 
“Joel,” your dad snapped. “Cool it.”
Joel folded his arms over his chest, staring daggers at Bennett as he made himself comfortable in his chair. Your mom leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. 
“Bennett, we need to know what happened before the accident,” she pleaded. “Joel said she was with you, so what happened?”
Bennett shrugged, stretching his legs out and crossing his arms. 
“I asked her to come back,” he said plainly, as if it were that simple. Joel seethed, his body twitching as he tried not to hit Bennett again. 
“Why?” Beth interjected. “You don’t even fucking like my sister. Why would you do that?”
“I do like your sister,” Bennett argued. “I told her I had made a mistake and that I wanted to try to make things work.”
Beth rolled her eyes, a scowl forming on her face. 
“You waited almost two years to make that discovery?” She cackled. “What actually happened?”
Bennett lifted a hand to his jaw, massaging the reddening skin as he quirked a brow at Joel. He was playing with fire; Joel just needed one more reason, and he’d kill Bennett on the spot.
“I told her to meet me for dinner to talk,” Bennett explained. “I still had a few of her stupid books she left behind, so I figured it was a good opportunity to meet with her. I tried to explain my side of things and why I wanted to give us another shot. She just laughed at me. She took her little books and left the restaurant without hearing any more of what I had to say.”
Joel felt a strange sense of pride knowing you had laughed in Bennett’s face, but given the circumstances, it quickly faded. A bitterness flooded his tongue at the thought of you returning to the life you had with Bennett, especially when he spoke of you with such disdain. 
“Why does any of that even matter?” Bennett questioned, looking between your parents.
Your mom cleared her throat and spoke up.
“The accident she was in caused some damage to her brain,” she began. “The doctors determined she has a form of amnesia. She doesn’t remember anything from the last two years.”
Bennett’s eyes grew wide, and he slid Joel a knowing look. 
“She thinks she’s still with me,” Bennett concluded. 
Your mom gave a solemn nod, running a hand through her hair. Joel could see the stress written all over her face, and he could see the pain in her eyes as she realized what was about to happen. 
“The doctors think it’s best not to overwhelm her with the memories she’s lost. We don’t want to do this, but it may be best if she resumes the life she thinks is still intact, which means introducing you back into her life. Is that something you’re open to, Bennett?”
Bennett didn’t say a word for several minutes. All he did was stare at his hands in silent contemplation. Beth and Stella sat unmoving, and Joel caught Stella sneaking glances ever so often. Finally, Bennett turned to Joel and studied him before speaking.
“And you’re in agreement with this?” He asked.
Joel gave a single nod, though he was reluctant to do so.
“I’m willin’ to wait for her. She needs time to regain those memories, and I don’t wanna cause any stress on her if she thinks she’s still with you. Trust me, I ain’t happy ‘bout it, but I love her.”
“And if she doesn’t get those memories back?” Bennett pressed.
“Then you better make her the happiest girl in the world and never fuck things up again,” Joel frowned. “I swear I’ll hunt you down if y’ever hurt her. I love her with my whole fuckin’ heart, and I’d do anythin’ to make sure she’s happy.”
“I love her, too, you know.”
Joel had a hard time believing Bennett, but there was a seriousness in Bennett’s eyes that made Joel’s heart ache. He was giving up the one good thing in his life to someone who didn’t deserve your love. Joel was a patient man, but that didn’t stop his heart from breaking. Who knew if you’d ever remember him again? He would have to live his life knowing you may never come back and that he’d have to carry that pain with him every single day. Hope was a fickle thing, one he would rather forego if he could just tell you the truth, but this was his only option. Joel would have to give you up. And he would do it because he loved you beyond all measure. 
Your parents took Bennett to meet with the doctors to discuss your current condition and the future it would entail. Joel stayed behind with Beth and Stella, the three of them blanketed by an insurmountable pain that couldn’t be healed. 
“What if we never see you again?” Stella asked, her eyes full of tears. 
Joel sat beside her, pulling her into his arms and letting her head rest on his shoulder. She was only fifteen, but Joel knew she was aware of the gravity of the situation. Even though she was older than Sarah, he always viewed Stella like another daughter; he had watched her grow up the last two years, and Joel adored her just as much as he did for his daughter. 
“Y’gotta stay strong for me, Stell,” Joel sighed, squeezing her shoulder. “She's gonna get those memories back one day, and I’ll be right there when she does. None of y’all will ever lose me. I swear that to you.”
Stella sniffled back tears, curling into Joel’s embrace. He glanced at Beth beside him, giving her a sad smile.
“I’m trustin’ you to look out for her, okay?” He said. “She needs you more than anyone. I know you ain’t happy ‘bout all of this, and I sure as hell ain’t either, but it’s gonna be okay.”
“I don’t agree with any of this,” she grumbled. “I hate him, Joel. I hate all of this.”
“I hate it, too, Beth,” Joel said. “But I love her more, and I’m willin’ to wait for her.”
Beth exhaled, slumping back into the chair. Joel could tell she wanted to say more, but she held her tongue. Joel knew Beth’s anger ran deep for Bennett, and he hoped she’d learn to give you grace through all this. It wasn’t your fault this decision was being made. It was what they all thought was best. 
Your mom returned an hour later to gather the girls and usher them home for the rest of the night. Joel’s head was throbbing from all of the stress, and he was on edge, knowing his time with you was running out. 
“Is she asleep?” Joel asked.
“The doctors gave her a heavy sedative to help her get through the night,” your mom explained. “In the morning, they’ll run a few more tests and figure out when it’ll be okay to discharge her.”
“Can I see her?” He pleaded. “Just so I can say goodbye?” 
The words tasted like ash on his tongue. Goodbye was a word he never wanted to associate with you. He wanted the good nights and good mornings but never a goodbye.
“Of course, sweetie,” your mom said, tears slipping down her face. 
Joel realized he wasn’t just saying goodbye to you but to your family as well. A family that had welcomed him in so quickly, a family he had spent holidays with and visited in the summer, he was losing an entire group of people he loved so dearly. 
Joel thought he was strong enough to see you, but as he opened the hospital door, he realized how wrong he was. Your face was littered with cuts and bruises, your right eye swollen shut, and your hair matted down with dried blood. It took every ounce of his energy not to collapse at the sight of you lying there, and he moved on unsteady legs to your bedside. 
He barely managed to say your name as the syllables broke out in a choked sob. He took your hand, his thumb smoothing lines over your balmy skin. Tears fell onto your fingers as he lifted your hand to his mouth, crying softly as he pressed a kiss against it.
“Oh, baby,” he cried. “I love you so fuckin’ much. I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so—.”
Joel wept over your body for what felt like an eternity. He let his head hit the bed, your hand pressed against his wet cheek, inhaling the lingering scent of your perfume. Every memory with you flooded his mind: mornings spent together drinking coffee, lazy afternoons laying on the couch while you read your favorite books, weekends at the soccer fields with Sarah. 
Joel’s life had flipped upside down in the span of just a few hours, and you’d never know the decision he had to make for the sake of your health. He wasn’t the praying type, but if there were a God up there, he’d spend every night on his knees begging for you to come home to him. 
“I love you, baby,” Joel whispered. “Even if you never remember it, I’ll carry you with me forever.”
Joel leaned up to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering a second too long. He never wanted to leave this room because everything would be gone once he did. All he’d have left were the memories and an undying hope you’d wake up one day remembering his face. 
Joel spent the next two days gathering your things from his house. He piled your books into a box, along with the miscellaneous items you had littered his home with. He clung to your shirts and held them to his chest, wishing it was you in his arms. Scattered on the fridge were Polaroid pictures you had taken of Joel throughout the two years, and he slipped them away for when he was ready to relive the memories—not yet, but one day. 
Sarah came home from school and saw the boxes next to the front door, giving Joel a weary look.
“What’s happening?” She asked.
Joel crouched in front of her, taking her head in his hands. He managed to say your name without faltering and explained everything to his daughter in the simplest way he could.
“She doesn’t remember me?” Sarah murmured, her eyes welling with tears. 
Joel hadn’t realized the heartbreak Sarah would be facing, too.
“No, sweetheart,” Joel shook his head. “But one day she will, I promise. You’ll be my tough girl and help Daddy through this, alright? We’re gonna wait for her ‘cause she’s gonna come back. I promise she’ll be back one day, and she’ll be right there on the sidelines again cheerin’ you on.”
“I’m gonna miss her,” Sarah cried, crashing into Joel’s chest and wrapping him into a hug.
“I’m gonna miss her too, sweetheart.”
~ Two years ago ~
Joel’s phone rang well past midnight. Through tired eyes, he searched for it on his nightstand and prayed it was you, but an unknown number lit up the screen, and Joel’s heart stopped.
“Hello?” He answered, his voice roughened from sleep.
“I can’t do it.”
It was Bennett’s voice, frantic and shaky. Joel shot up in bed, his heart pounding out of his chest.
“What do y’mean you ‘can’t do it’?” Joel questioned.
“I—I can’t do it, man. We’re supposed to get married tomorrow, and I can’t fucking do it. She’s making me crazy. You know she says your name in her sleep? She still can’t remember shit, yet all she does is say your name when she’s sleeping. I’m losing my mind.” He was rambling through words so quickly Joel could barely keep up.
“Y’can’t just leave her like this,” Joel said. “Do y’know how much you’re gonna hurt her? You waited ‘til now to decide you didn’t wanna go through with the weddin’? Y’know how fuckin’ stupid you are?”
Bennett exhaled loudly through the receiver, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“I’m never going to make her happy, and she won’t make me happy. I’m not doing this.”
Joel scrubbed a hand over his face and stared up at the ceiling fan, turning above the bed.
“Alright, listen,” Joel started. “You get your shit together, and you leave. Find some job in another state and never come back. She doesn’t deserve this, and she definitely doesn’t deserve the heartbreak you’re ‘bout to give her. So, you take your ass and get the fuck out of town. And I swear, if you ever come back or even try to contact her again, I will kill you. Do y’understand me? I will fuckin’ kill you.”
“You’re threatening a future lawyer?” Bennett laughed. 
“I don’t give a damn what you are, Bennett. I’ll take a gun to your head the next time I see you and not even think twice ‘bout pullin’ the trigger,” Joel threatened, speaking through clenched teeth.
“She’ll never forgive you for it,” Bennett countered. “And don’t even think about coming back into her life, either. She’s better off without either one of us. God help the next guy who tries to get with her. She’s a fucking wreck.”
Joel seethed, the room going red. How dare Bennett talk about you like this? Joel should have never left you. He should have fought harder. He should have killed Bennett before he could have ever had the chance to come back. 
“I suggest you pack your shit quick, or I’ll find you ‘fore the night is over,” Joel growled. “Get the fuck out of town, you fuckin’ piece of shit.”
Joel slammed his phone shut and slumped against the headboard. Bennett would be out of your life, but at what cost? He knew this would destroy you. God, he couldn’t even fathom the heartbreak you’d face in the morning when you arrived for the wedding. Joel didn’t even let himself imagine what you’d look like, dressed in a beautiful white wedding gown. Bennett didn’t deserve you; he never did. But Joel didn’t deserve you either. You were too good for either of them. 
~ Three months ago ~ 
“Dad, I need to tell you something,” Sarah announced, walking through the front door.
She had just finished her first day of school, and Joel had gotten off work early to be home in time to hear all about it. 
The last two years had been a blur of endless work days and long nights spent drinking in the dark. He was drowning himself away in bottles of whiskey, trying to forget you and the pain that still lingered. He had considered going to you so many times to spill the truth and beg you to come back into his life. But he knew better than that. He knew you deserved a normal life without the reminder of the past. 
Joel looked up from the stove where he was cooking dinner. Sarah's face was etched with concern, and her lips trembled as she tried to speak.
“Sweetheart, what is it?” Joel panicked. 
He dropped the spatula on the counter and rushed to Sarah’s side, holding her firm by the shoulders.
“My—my teacher,” she muttered. “It’s her.”
Joel felt the world tilt on its axle, his body swaying at Sarah’s words. 
“Tell me y’didn’t say anythin’ to her,” Joel begged. 
“No, I—I didn’t. I swear. I don’t even know what I would say,” Sarah rambled. 
“Okay, alright. It’s okay. It’s okay,” Joel exhaled. He needed to sit down. 
Pulling out one of the dining chairs, Joel collapsed entirely, burying his head in his hands. Sarah rubbed a hand over his back, gently attempting to soothe him.
“Maybe this is your chance, Dad,” Sarah suggested. “It’s been enough time now. Maybe she’ll be able to handle the truth about everything.”
Joel loved Sarah’s optimism and her bright outlook on everything. Whenever Joel was ready to give up hope, Sarah was right there to guide him back. She was right, it was an opportunity to start over again, but he didn’t want to fuck it up. He wouldn’t lose you twice. 
“I’ll think ‘bout it, okay?” Joel sighed. “Let me finish cookin’ dinner, and y’can tell me all ‘bout your day.”
Joel sat across from Sarah, his food untouched the entire time she talked. He had no appetite. All he wanted to do was ask her about you: what you looked like, what your voice sounded like, what books you would teach the class. He knew poetry was your favorite. You would stay up late reading together in bed. You would always chime in with little factoids or comments about the book, and Joel would always sit there listening to every word. Shakespeare was your favorite, and Joel loved watching your face scrunch with concentration as you tried to explain the meaning behind each play. When he packed up your things three and a half years ago, he secretly kept your copy of Romeo and Juliet. Sometimes, when he was drunk enough, Joel would flip through the pages just to trace over your scribbled words and annotations, just to relive a moment kept in secret between the two of you. 
Now, his daughter would experience your passion for teaching firsthand. He was a proud son of a bitch, knowing you were following your dreams. 
“Dad,” Sarah’s voice cut through Joel’s wandering thoughts.
He glanced up from his full plate and shook his head.
“Sorry, sweetheart. What did you say?”
“I was saying there’s a father-daughter dance in a couple of weeks,” she repeated. “Maybe she’ll be there. You could see her again.”
“Yeah, maybe. I gotta see if I can get ‘round work to be there.”
Joel was all too familiar with Sarah's look of disappointment; he had seen it far too often these last couple of years. His role as a father had been lacking for a while now; he was lost in the haze of losing you, so much so that he was losing himself. Unfortunately, Sarah had been the one suffering the most because of it. 
“I’ll make it work, sweetheart,” Joel decided. “I promise.”
After Sarah went to bed, Joel sat on the couch, nursing a short glass of whiskey. He stared at the liquid as he swirled it around, the amber color shimmering under the dim light of the lamp beside him. His phone lay open on his thigh, Beth’s number sitting there waiting to be dialed. Joel had barely spoken to your sister since he last saw her at the hospital, but he knew she would be his first call. 
Dialing her number, Joel took a long sip of his drink and waited.
“Joel?” Beth exhaled, her voice groggy from sleep.
“Hey, yeah.” Joel cleared his throat. “It’s me. I, um, I have some news.”
“Did she…” Beth’s voice trailed off.
“No, no. Not yet, at least. Um, Sarah’s first day of school was today, and I found out she’s her teacher. Funny how that happens, right?” 
“Wait, my sister? Actually?” Beth sounded shocked.
“Yup,” Joel sighed. “Sarah thinks I should try and talk to her, Whatdaya think?”
Beth remained silent, and Joel cleared the contents of his glass as he waited.
“I don’t know if telling her everything right away is smart,” she said. “I mean, I haven’t talked to her a lot in the past couple of years, so maybe I’m wrong.”
“Y’all haven’t talked?” Joel questioned.
“She and I haven’t spoken since the whole wedding ordeal,” she confessed. 
“Wait, why?”
Joel sat up, one hand clutching the phone, the other smoothing over the curls sticking up on the crown of his head. He never thought you and Beth would ever be on bad terms.
“I warned her about Bennett. I tried to talk her into leaving so many times, but she was so stubborn. I don’t know what he said or did to her to make her stay, but she was always at his defense. I hated seeing her with him, Joel. It should have always been you.”
“I know, Beth. I know.”
“Have you considered maybe completely starting over?” Beth asked.
“Like in what way? Datin’?”
“Yeah. Maybe introduce yourself and see where things go. She might not regain her memory, but you’d have new memories together. She deserves to be loved the right way, and you’re the one who can give her that. Take things slow and test the water. You never know.”
Joel considered the idea for a moment. It could work, but what if it didn’t? What if he completely fucked up his second chance with you? He would have to live the rest of his life knowing he lost you twice.
“You’re suggestin’ I lie to her?” Joel scoffed.
“No,” Beth argued, her voice stern. “I’m suggesting you work your charm like you did the first time and see where it goes. She loved you once before, Joel. I think she could love you again.”
Beth’s words were enough of a push for Joel actually to consider that this might work. He knew you. He knew what you liked and didn’t like; he knew every tiny piece of you so that it wouldn’t be hard to sweep you off your feet again. The only problem he had with the plan was lying. If you ever found out the truth, it would crush you. And that terrified him. He didn’t want to break your heart; Bennett had done a good enough job of it, and Joel would never be like him. He would be better. He would prove himself. 
“Do y’think your family would agree to this?” Joel asked.
“None of us ever gave up hope, Joel,” Beth sighed. “This could be a chance for all of us to get her back—to get the old version of her back. We miss her a lot.”
“I miss her, too.”
“Go get your girl, Joel. She’s waiting for you.”
Joel spent that night wide awake in bed. The idea he could have you back in his life again set his body alight with a mixture of anxiety and fear. Beth could be right; you could love him again. There was that hope that maybe he could rewrite the past and start anew, but there was also that terrible fear you could slip away from him…permanently. You never regained your memories, and there was a good chance you never would, but not taking this risk would condemn Joel to a life full of grief. He knew grief well; he had walked side by side with it for the last three and a half years. If he could just hold you for one moment and hear you say his name one more time, that would be enough.
When Joel awoke the following day, he had made up his mind; he would keep fighting for you. 
He called Maria before school began and explained it all to her. Joel knew Maria had taken the news of your accident the hardest; you and her had always been close. She was like a mother to you here in Austin. Learning how to navigate around your memory loss had been tricky for her, but Joel knew she had done right by you. 
It was no surprise when Maria squealed with excitement over the phone, meticulously creating a master plan to bring you both together again. She promised to talk you into chaperoning the father-daughter dance and vowed to continue pushing you his way. Joel had to remind Maria that he was the one in control here; he needed to be the one to make everything work. Knowing everyone was on his side and willing to help ease his mind. 
He was going to get you back. 
~ Two Months Ago ~
Joel was running late. He had forgotten entirely about the father-daughter dance, and now he was speeding through yellow lights to make it home. He promised Sarah he’d go, but if he was being honest, the thought of seeing you again made him overwhelmingly nervous. What would he say to you? What would you think of him? What if he ruined his second chance?
Bolting through the garage, Joel called out for Sarah in a rush. She came barreling down the stairs in a blur of lavender and Joel had to stop his racing thoughts to admire his daughter.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel smiled. “Y’look beautiful.”
“You’re late,” she frowned. “We need to go now.”
She tugged his hand back toward the garage and into the truck. While Joel grappled with the reality that he was going to see you again, Sarah was buzzing with excitement. She saw you every day at school, but this was different. She wasn’t just seeing you… she was going to see you and Joel together in the same room since before the accident. Sarah never got to say a proper goodbye when everything happened, and Joel knew it was hard for Sarah to maintain a semblance of composure every time she sat at her school desk. The memories of you two together were embedded so deep it was hard for Sarah to ignore. Before the school year, Sarah would try to talk about you with Joel from time to time, trying to cling to the nostalgia of the past. Joel knew the suffering wasn’t just his alone; Sarah lost you that day, too. 
Joel’s hands were shaking as he put the truck in park, his eyes unsteady as he tried to focus on the school's entrance. You were somewhere inside that gymnasium; he could feel it. It was like a silent call, a tug on an invisible string, an asteroid coming into orbit. You were the pull on his gravity, just beckoning him closer. 
“Dad, c’mon!” Sarah begged, unlocking the door.
She was already skipping down the parking lot before Joel could put his keys in his back pocket. He urged her to return so they could walk inside together—maybe because he needed the moral support. He had everyone on his side for this plan, but if he fucked it up, it wouldn’t just be his loss. It would be everyone’s. 
The gymnasium was covered in twinkling lights, and the basketball court transformed into a dance floor for the evening. Joel’s eyes bounced around the room, searching for you within the crowd. Through the crowd of moving bodies, he couldn’t find you. Maybe you weren’t here; maybe it was too late. 
Joel refused to be defeated this quickly and decided to remain focused on Sarah. At the end of the day, this dance was for her. He watched as she mingled with her friends, fawning over each other's dresses and gossiping about the latest drama. Joel remained on the outer edge of the dance floor, his palms damp from sweat and his pulse racing. 
The music shifted to a slow song, and Sarah quickly found Joel and pulled him onto the dancefloor. Seeing her excitement alleviated the bundle of anxiety pulsating inside his chest. He watched as her dress floated around her with every turn, the dimples on her face appearing as he continued twirling her around. The music was slowly drifting to a close, and Joel ushered Sarah in for one last spin. He couldn’t contain the smile on his face as he watched her happiness radiate into the space around him. He maneuvered himself around her twirling body and glanced up toward the side of the gym.
Everything around him ceased to exist at that moment. Amidst the blurring bodies and the chaos of voices, the world stood still. There you were, standing quietly in the shadows, your body bathed in flickering lights, like a lighthouse in the distance of a stormy sea. Joel silently pleaded for you to look at him, even for a second.
As if you heard his thoughts, your eyes met his for a fleeting moment, and it’s as if you saw him. The room melted away, and it was just you and him for the briefest moment in time. Joel swore you looked at him as if you remembered…as if you had searched the room just to find him. The erratic beating of his heart slowed, his body recognizing the strange comfort of your presence even at a distance. Every cell, every atom, every piece of himself cried out to you. 
You saw him.
And he smiled.
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sarawritestories · 1 day
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Hi! Can I request a xaden riorson X reader angst ?
Ask and you shall receive!
A Dragon Without its Rider is a Tragedy
Xaden Riorson X Reader
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1000 Followers Celebration Post!
Summary: Xaden and you are on a mission where everything goes wrong.
Content Warning: Blood, Poisioning Main Character Death, Angst.
This is a short one but packed with Angst.
Word count 731
1000 follower Celebration Masterlist
Tags: @garricks4thwingqueen
My blood begins to burn as the poison, from the dagger currently residing in my abdomen, courses through my veins. Liam is hovering over me, his face in and out of my focus, but I’m glad it’s his face and not of the venin’s snarling face that sunk his dagger in me. When my eyes focus on the blonde’s handsome face is riddled with guilt.
I watch as a venin sneaks up behind Liam. Dagger at the ready, my feet were moving before my mind could properly think through all the options. Liam will not die today. I shoulder Liam knocking him over as the blade pierces through my flesh. I scream out in pain as I watch Venin’s grin turn into something sinister as she sinks the blade deeper into my stomach. The venin flees before Liam can kill her.
“Why would you do that for me?” He asks as I begin cough harshly. The sounds of battle erupting behind us.
The agonizing roar of my dragon floods my ears. I whimper as Liam loops his arms under mine and begins to drag me over. My limbs start to feel numb unaware of the rocks digging into my skin. Breathing is becoming difficult with every inhale, “Sloane needs you, Liam.” I wheezed. Liam gently leaning me against a tree trunk. My eyes begin to grow heavy. “Tell Xaden-“
Liam shakes his head, “Tell him yourself, he is on his way. Just stay with me.” He grips my hand lacing his fingers between mine. “You will not let go of my hand; help is coming.”
The ground shakes, as two dragons land on the ground in front of us. my Red clubtail laid her head so her nose brushed my foot.  Hang on, Little one. I groan. Glancing at the second dragon, my vision blurs, but I know that shade of blue anywhere, “Sgaeyl.” Sharp pain overtakes my body as I cry out squeezing Liam’s hand. My eyes feel extremely heavy, I allow them to close and lean my head back.
I feel a hand cup my face, fingers lightly tapping my face. “Hey, stay with me, sweetheart.” Xaden’s voice breaks through though his voice sounds like we are underwater.  My eyes creak open and for a brief moment I meet his gold fleck Onyx eyes.
“Xaden.” I whisper utilizing my vocal cords becoming a strenuous act.
He wipes my damp hair from my forehead. “Shhh, we will get you to a healer, love, I just need you to stay with me.”
“I’m …so …tired.” I whimper, “I…Need…to…tell you…” I cough and Xaden rubs my back.
“No. No goodbyes.” Xaden whispers, “We will get you help,” I note that his voice cracks. Another wave of pain causes me to wince.
“Stop…Lying…” I give him a weak smile, trying to blink.  “We…don’t…have... a lot of…Time…” I try to reach for him, but my arm won’t move. As if sensing what I want he lifts my hand and places my palm on his tan cheek.
“As your Wing Leader, I command you to live.”
“When…have… I…ever…Listened…to…you...” He laughs as tears stream down his cheeks, and he presses his forehead to mine. “I…Lo” I try to take a deep breath as chills overtake my body. “I…love…You…”
“I love you too.” Xaden presses his lips to mine. “Fuck, don’t leave me.” He sniffles.  My dragon gave a low whine...
“I’m…Sorry…” I wince once more. “Liam.” Xaden moves, so the blonde can be in my line of site. “No…Regrets…”
Liam kiss my forehead, “It’s been an honor being your friend.”
“No…The…Honor…is…mine.
Another whine from my dragon as she nudges my foot.  Hey you.
Hello, Little One. I’m sorry I could not protect you.
It’s not your…fault… I …loved…being…your..rider..
And I loved being your dragon. Close Your eyes, Little one. Don’t fight it anymore. We’ll be okay.
I lean back my head against the wall. “Hold Me.” I whisper, closing my eyes as I do. I feel a pair of arms wrap around me the burning no longer there replaced by a cool numbness, the chills.
“I don’t want to do this without you.”
I can’t even bring myself to smile. “Try…Live… Love…”
He presses his head to mine as Liam still grips my hand. Darkness consumes me, the sounds of a dragon roaring the last thing I hear before walking into the welcoming arms of Malek.
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T.W— Angst.
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Knitted Shut...
"Gosh, stop fucking overreacting, it's just some overtime work." Satoru said to you, irritated and overworked. Fine, you gave up, he won, just like he does every single time you argue. You felt hurt and pained to know that your boyfriend barely has any time for you, no, for your relationship.
You slouched tired and frustrated from the fight you had with your dickhead boyfriend before you finally left to change. "Ugh, whatever, I don't even give a shit now." He said, visibly irked by your presence in the room. I mean— why would you even bother trying to convince him to not go overtime this time but he just won't listen.
And then here comes some girls who would be out there saying— "Gosh it's just overtime!" or "You're so obsessed!". No, they didn't know Satoru's relationship with you and they never will. You were going to the point of insanity by now, it was always overtime or night out with friends or family meetings! What about you? Did he even think about you during his entire life!? You were finished, this was too much negativity in your mind, all you can do now is just lay down and forget.
As you lay down on your bed overthinking about possibly everything in your love life, Satoru comes in. "Hey, doll~" he said in a 'loving' manner. "What do you want, Satoru." You replied to him, this time confused but still angry at him. "Y'know m'so so sorry about everything princess~." "I promise, I will never do it again~". Wow, apparently he's apologizing now? What a jerk he was. "Satoru, we talked about this, and before you mention it, No." You answered him sternly causing him to be angered. "What!?"
Satoru began to shout at you, his pent up frustration had erupted out of his mouth and the next thing you know he slapped you. "Satoru!" You exclaimed, the imprint of his hand on your soft cheeks burned painfully. "I'm sorry love! I didn't mean it!" "Forgive me just this once!" He tried to explain himself but you had already decided, and your decision made him mad.
"That was the FUCKING last straw Gojo!" You thought he wouldn't even have the guts to slap you like that because he loved you, but this just proved your thoughts wrong. His mind was racing with thoughts, what should he do? You weren't accepting any of his apologies and it was already clear that you were about to explode. "Fine." Satoru said.
FINE? That was all he wanted to say!? "FINE MY ASS SATORU!" "I WAS STUPID TO LOVE A SELFISH FUCKING MAN LIKE YOU!" You gasped covering your mouth. What the fuck did you just say..? Gosh, why were you so dumb? What is he gonna say now.?
BOOMBAYAH!!!! :3 YESS IM LAZY!!!
IDGAF
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thelostpretzel · 3 days
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Do you ship in Honkai star rail? If yes , which one is your favorite?
i avoid romance and sexual stuff (uncomfortable theme for me sorry i'm working on it) but i love wierd friendships and complicated platonic relationships that look goofy at first sight but hide a lot of angst inside so i really really love the idea of Stellaron Hunters as traumatized found family of villains with very very very close emotional connection between each other and zero sexual tension (so like they sleep in a pile because its comfy not because they are horny or smth) Kafka who comforts Blade when he's having bad times with mara? Blade who's shopping with girls because they enjoy his company (and he secretly likes to be in their's company too and feels emotionally safe around them)? Silver Wolf who helps other Hunters with IT stuff (like help Kafka install app for violin tuning and explain Blade how to use messenger)? i LOVE THIS and it could be so much painful, like imagine Kafka who fails to help Blade. what could she feel. is she sad. is she blaming herself. does she care at all. maybe she could expirience fear for the first time in her life not because she faces danger but because she realises she could lose one of Hunters (or Stelle/Kaelus). how fucked up would that be. and Astral Express crew as stereotypical good guys who like a funhouse mirror of Stellaron Hunters? like they treat each other exactly the same but wear white, do not hide their feelings, have healthy coping mechanisms and fight with bad guys (Stellaron Hunters) from time to time and don't do too much of crimes. chef's kiss.
sorry i got emotional i really love silly platonic shit
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heavenlyvision · 3 days
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replacement pairing: johnny cage/reader wc: 600 warnings: ANGST!!!!!!!, gn!reader, no use of pronouns or y/n a/n; i uhhhh, found an idea i wrote a very long time ago and thought "how fucked up would it be if johnny did this?" and then adapted it for him and rewrote some stuff :3 hehe i love you guys (please don't be mad) </3 ANGST UNDER CUT
His hands trace the curves and contours of your body slowly as you sway in the cool breeze the evening is providing. If you were to be looking from the outside in, this would look like a perfect moment between lovers and while the moment is between two lovers, to you, it feels less than perfect. His mind is elsewhere whilst yours is focused solely on him, on this moment, it hurts to know that he’s thinking about them again.
You never knew who they were, but he had mentioned sparingly that you were like them, you just didn’t know to what extent that was. Sometimes you would do something small, like laugh when you couldn’t quite line all the buttons up on your shirt correctly and he would get this sort of glazed-over look in his eyes with a small, sad smile and you would know that you had done something to remind him of them. It seemed, no matter how hard you tried… everything you did was a memory of them. To him, it was almost like you were them.
When he was with them, he loved freely, easily, limitlessly but it wasn’t enough, and they left him for someone else. He was a shell of himself… until he had met you and you sparkled, you had loved him so certainly, it came effortlessly to you, and that was one of the first times he had made the connection in his head, between the two of you. You were unapologetically yourself, just like they were, it was why he loved them, their fearlessness and ability to just be themselves in a world full of people trying to be someone else. It’s also why he loves you… because to him, you are the same.
Tonight was supposed to be about you and it had started that way. He took you to your favourite restaurant for dinner and then a blissful stroll under the night sky, where you both just talked and enjoyed the moment together. It would’ve been… it could’ve been perfect, if it weren’t for his distant gaze. You ignored it, you did your best anyways, to pretend everything was… perfect.
Back in his apartment he had taken you out onto the balcony and asked to dance, it was silly but appreciated, the soft glow of the moon, the quiet humming of music. It was everything, you had always wanted a night like this and when you asked how he knew… his reply was simple.
“They would’ve loved this too.”
It hurt, it crushed you, it was getting to the point where you weren’t sure if he could differentiate between the two of you anymore. What memories had he made of you and what were the ones of them? Does it even matter to him anymore?
You’d stopped moving and he knew automatically that he’d fucked up, “I’m not them, Johnny,” you’d frowned, “I’m me.”
“I know that, of course I know that, and I love you,” he was lying, and you both knew it, he didn’t love you, he loved the memories of them that he saw in you.
The pain in his eyes was the kind when you fear you might lose someone, he was afraid… not of losing you though, of losing them. You love the happiness you bring him; you love him, you just don’t love that you aren’t the one actually giving him that happiness.
Your head leant onto his chest as you murmured, “Don’t forget it…”
“I love you,” he’d repeated.
You weren’t sure if he were trying to convince you or himself.  
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Heart of Gold - Part 2
Miranda Hilmarson x Mounted!Police!Fem!Reader
HELLO EVERYONE <3 I finally managed to finish Part 2 of my Miranda Hilmarson Fic. I'm sorry it took so long but it's finally here. I hope you enjoy this little addition to the first part. I'm not yet sure if I should make a 3rd part but if you guys want one, I'll look into it <3
Huge thanks to @weemssapphic for proofreading this part <3
Disclaimer: English is not my first language!
Warnings: Talk of bullying, talk of death and dying, descriptions of blood, death and being shot (I'm sorry... this is an angsty one)
Authors Note: Hurt/Comfort with a shit ton of Angst. I hope you guys enjoy <3
Words: 2'400+
AO3 Link
Taglist
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“Why do you care so much about me?”
You look at her, unable to answer the question. Should you tell her? Should you take the risk and risk the friendship you’ve built? Miranda looked at you intensely, chest heaving from being dragged around. You tried to collect your thoughts but just as you were about to answer, Miranda dropped her head, looking down at her feet. A sigh of defeat left her lips.
“It’s a joke to you as well isn’t it?” she asked through clenched teeth, tears threatened to spill from her eyes any second. You looked at her in shock.
“No! No Mir that's not the case!!! That's not the case at all-”
“Save it!” Miranda looked up at you, eyes red, tears wetting her face as she furiously wiped the back of her hand over her cheeks. 
“I should have known… you’re like everyone else… I- I should have never trusted you…” and with that, Miranda stormed out before you could say anything else. 
The defeat on her face, the betrayal, the way she looked so full of hope only for it to be replaced by pain, a pain you felt right in this moment with her. How could you have fucked up this bad… you should have just told her… you should have just SHOWN her. You had to catch up to her. Without further hesitation your feet carried you through the stables towards the parking lot only to see her drive off in a hurry.
“Shit… SHIT'' Defeated, you return to the stables to gather your things and leave. You’d see her tomorrow! You’d get your chance to talk to her again… hopefully.
However, luck wasn’t on your side. Miranda had started avoiding you, leaving the room when you entered, walking the other direction when you walked towards her. And this had been going on for a few weeks now.
It hurt. 
You knew better than to follow her but… it hurt. After a particularly busy day, you went to get some drinks with your colleagues, wishing you were with Miranda. A heavy sigh left your lips as you absentmindedly picked at the label of your beer. You felt sick…
“Hey guys… I’m gonna go home… I don’t feel too well…”
You stood, handing your beer to your friend, and gathered your things. Of course you were met with protest but you just ignored it, and soon enough they figured that it might be best to just let you leave. So that is what you did. 
Exiting the pub you felt the cold breeze on your skin. The air was a bit chilly and it smelled like rain. Cool darkness enveloped you and you stood there for a minute, just feeling the breeze on your skin and the smell of rain. When you opened your eyes again, that’s when you saw her. 
Miranda anxiously stepped on a cigarette she’d just finished. It looked as if she were considering coming into the pub or not. She hadn’t seen you yet. Should you approach her? Go back inside? Before a choice could be made, she looked up, making eye contact. You were expecting her to run away, to flee from your loving and pained gaze once again but…. She didn’t. She held your gaze, waiting. 
“Miranda-“
“Can we walk?”
She interrupted. You looked at her, surprise painted all over your face as she just waited for you to reply. Quickly, you nodded, walking over to her and following.
“Miranda… I am so sorry. If I have done something that hurt you please just let me know I-“
“Don’t apologise… I should-“
The blonde took a deep breath, shoving her hands in her vest pockets and looking down at her feet, kicking some stones around as she walked with you. She had missed you… but she needed time to think.
“I should have let you answer that night… I am sorry…”
Suddenly, Miranda stopped, looking out over the beach and the dark ocean. You stood beside her, your eyes trained on her face. You had to tell her how you feel. You had to let her know that she is worthy of love and affection. That she is beautiful, wonderful, perfect. In your eyes, Miranda was perfect. 
“I care because you’re worth it.”
Miranda was avoiding your gaze, but you saw her eyebrows furrow. This just spurred you on more.
“I care because you are worth the time and energy. I care because you are the sweetest and most adorable and kind person on this planet. I care because you lit up my world when I met you the very first time. You make my days better and I cannot fall asleep or wake up without thinking of you.”
Miranda looked down at you, her eyes, usually so blue and bright now seemed grey, and were welling up with tears. Carefully, you took her hand into yours, giving her a reassuring squeeze with your hands.
“I care because I fell in love with you…. Miranda… I love you”
You said it, admitted your feelings, and it sent a rush of anxiety down your spine, leaving its sticky tingling feeling behind. You were expecting her to leave again, to get upset at you… what you didn’t expect were her lips suddenly pressed against yours, a big hand with long, slim fingers, gently cupping your cheek and pulling you closer.
Miranda had hoped you would say that. It took her a while to realise… several weeks. She simply wasn’t used to it. No one had ever shown her the care and affection you had. And she found herself falling for you. Afraid you would hate her if she admitted it, she kept quiet.
But that night…. She had to know. 
However, as soon as the question left her lips, she felt herself getting anxious. She was terrified. What if you said you pitied her and that’s why you ‘acted’ like you cared so much? So, before you could answer, she pulled away. She ran away. To protect herself, not noticing how much her actions had hurt you. Until she saw how your smile faded, how your eyes stopped shining, how you seemed to have lost your joy. And she hated herself for hurting you so much. 
“I am sorry Y/N… I… love you too. I was just anxious and-“
Now it was your turn to interrupt her with a kiss. Your arms wrapping around her shoulders, holding her close. You didn’t need to hear more. It was no secret that Miranda was oftentimes anxious. Who could blame her… she’s been through a lot. 
“I’ve heard everything I needed to hear Mir… you don’t have to apologise. You’re okay. I am not mad at you. I’m glad you told me…”
Your whispers and words of affirmation and understanding caused Miranda to completely dissolve. Her tears flowing freely as she held onto you, finding comfort in your embrace. She did not know how she deserved you, but she would be an idiot if she’d ever let go of you. You loved her… and she loved you. 
And so it happened that the two of you became the cutest couple at the police station (at least according to you two. Who cares what the others think).
More often than not, you brought Miranda a coffee, some treats or even flowers. You started spending almost every waking moment together, only separating to go home and sleep. 
Both of you wanted to take it slow. There was no hurry. You weren’t going anywhere and neither was Miranda. The love you experienced in each other's embrace and kisses was enough to keep you two glued together. No force could ever part you… not even a routine patrol that ended more dangerous for you than expected. 
It was like every Wednesday afternoon.
You were patrolling the promenades before going back to the stables and calling it a day. Already excited to spend time with Miranda after work, you did not realise that the altercation you rode towards, would end up being almost fatal for you. 
Of course it had to happen.
You knew you shouldn’t have split up with your colleague. But there was no harm in thinking that if he took the lower road, you could take the higher one and still be close enough to hear each other. 
The second you realised that there was a gun pointed at you, you started calling for your colleague. Reaching for your own gun, you suddenly felt a piercing pain in your shoulder. A BANG was heard and then your ears were ringing. The pain in your shoulder increased, dragging its disgusting talons over your neck to the back of your head, digging deep into your skin. You started feeling faint, head pounding and everything started looking fuzzy and far away. At first you hadn’t even noticed that your horse was galloping towards the stables. Your hand just instinctively grabbed onto the horn of the saddle and your grip tightened. 
Artemis was huffing, whining and neighing the closer she got to the stables. A place she knew was safe. She felt your shift in energy, understanding the severity of the situation more than you. The smart horse she was, she stopped in front of the station, making a ruckus to get the other officers’ attention.
Miranda looked out the window, expecting to see you waving at her but what she saw, sent her into a panic. She rushed out to you and Artemis, gently pulling you from your mare and asking you questions. What exactly she asked, you didn’t know… you didn’t hear. All you knew was that you were in Miranda’s arms and it soothed the pain you were experiencing. 
Meanwhile Miranda tried to stay calm. She had called the ambulance, staying with you and holding you close, trying to stop the bleeding. Her hands, your shirt and her sleeves were covered in thick, dark red, warm blood. Your blood. 
Miranda tried really hard to keep it together, to stay strong for you, but she couldn’t keep the sobs in. Tears coated her soft pale skin, huffs and sobs escaped her lips, frantic breathing accompanied by the fear that she could lose you. She couldn't lose you… Miranda wouldn’t survive without you, she knew that. She needed you. She loved you. 
The next few hours were a blur for Miranda. You were unconscious, the medics doing everything they could to keep you alive as she accompanied you, holding your hand throughout the entire drive to the hospital. There, you were separated. 
But Miranda didn’t let up. 
She waited, and waited, and waited. Minutes turned to hours, hours filled with anxiety, fear and pain. She did not even wash up, her hands, shirt and trousers still soaked in your blood. Now cold, sticking to her skin, as if death itself latched onto her. 
It wasn’t until 4 hours later that the nurse finally went to fetch Miranda. She did ask her to at least wash her arms before bringing her to your room. There you laid, unconscious, but breathing. You were breathing. Miranda immediately went to your side, gently brushing some hair from your face, caressing your cheek, and holding your warm, soft hand. 
“I need you… please don’t leave me just yet…” She whispered.
“I love you. Come back to me…” She begged.
“I can’t lose you..”
She breathed. 
Miranda hoped you would hear her. She would tell you about all the things she wanted to experience with you, places she wanted to show you and future plans she had dreamed about. For more than 48 hours, Miranda sat by your side. The nurses had to force her to at least eat and drink something if she wasn’t going to sleep or go home to get changed. She sat by your side and wouldn’t leave. It was as if Miranda was in a frozen state. Holding your hand and pressing kisses to your cheek and forehead. She was only ripped from her trance as the heart monitor flatlined. She shot up, calling out for help, screaming, begging, sobbing, but no one heard. She was alone… and you were gone… —
“Miranda?”
Suddenly, Miranda felt a soft hand on her arm, another on her cheek, wiping away tears that escaped her eyelids once more. She opened her eyes, finding herself in her bedroom. Her breathing ragged, panic evident on her face, she started looking around. Where were you? “Miranda… darling… It’s okay. It was just a bad dream…” Her eyes shot to the direction of the voice, and she started sobbing. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close and kissing her head. Miranda’s arms immediately wrapping around your middle, so as not to hurt your healing shoulder. She pulled you close and that's when she realised where she was. Miranda was at home, in her bed, with you holding her, consoling her.
“I am here Mir. I won’t go anywhere… I promised you I won’t.” Your soft voice brought her peace. This wasn’t the first time she awoke in this manner. Once the nurses and doctors were happy with your recovery, they allowed you to go back home. Miranda insisted you live with her, so she could take care of you and protect you. Of course you said yes. But ever since then, Miranda was plagued by nightmares. One worse than the other, the outcome was the same every time. She couldn’t save you. She couldn’t protect you. You were gone, leaving her alone in her pain and loneliness. 
But it was just a dream. Every night she would feel your arms around her, your soft voice rousing her from the hell she fell into. Every night, you would reassure her that you were still there, that you survived, and that it was thanks to her quick thinking. Every night, you would dry her tears and have her fall asleep with her head on your chest, hearing your heartbeat. You were alive, and you were with her. It would take some time for the two of you to overcome the trauma, the horrors both of you faced each night. But you would overcome it. Together. Miranda could overcome it with your love, and you with hers. And her heart of Gold.
So, just like every night, you reminded her of that. A kiss pressed to her head as you noticed her relaxing in your arms, sleep ready to take her again. You whispered, so as not to wake her again: “Miranda?”
“Hm?”
“I love you”
------
End Note: As always, reblogs, comments and likes are well appreciated <3 Taglist: @vivendraws @erinyaya @phexyce @aemilia19 @weemssapphic @gela123 @winterfireblond @Xxmecverxx @unicorniusfallapatorious @gwenistheloml @yourgaeyisshowing @readingtheentrails
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cloudyskiiees · 3 days
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ok i cant control myself here’s me infodumping about my stardew valley x tdi fic idea:
-first few chapters are all noah’s perspective. he lives in a small run down town called stardew valley, working at the library with their shitty museum attached. he has a couple old books of his on display, but nothing more. rumors of a new farmer coming to town arise, he doesn’t think much of it.
-until he sees the farmer after he’s moved there. he’s pretty, sure, but he’s… weird.
-the farmer waits around like he knows where people are gonna be at a certain time. he’s scarily good at collecting new gems and minerals for the museum, he’s even better at fighting in the mines, where most people don’t dare to go.
-he knows what everyone likes without even asking.
-this all gets annoying because noah hasn’t learned anything about the farmer, other than his name. alejandro.
-he can’t shake the feeling something is wrong with the new farmer.
-so he starts being a bit meaner. refusing gifts he loves, even if it almost seems to pain him to do so. he’s gotten to the point he can outright refuse to let alejandro donate to the museum! it brings him satisfaction to see the looked on the farmers face, but he can’t deny something inside him feels horribly wrong whenever he… acts out.
-eventually we get an alejandro pov. and the entirety of “stardew valley” is a video game. none of the characters we’ve been following or learning about are real, not even the farmer noah knows. he’s simply a made up character.
-alejandro is pissseddd because something is wrong with his newest save! he had made a brand new one to attempt and speed run it, having the summer off from college and finally being miles and miles away from his family breathing down his neck.
-so what is this characters deal all the sudden?
-the new dialogue noah says, he can’t find it anywhere online. he didn’t know characters could refuse gifts they loved, or even in general!
-when the librarian refuses to let him donate his recent finds to the museum, he makes it his mission to figure out how this is happening.
-he gets his local tech “friend” Sierra to take a look and observe the game, hoping she can figure out what’s wrong. he doesn’t exactly like the girl but…. she’s really smart when it comes to certain things. especially her favorite video game.
-noah continues to question the other townsfolk, but starts realizing that… they all kind of act the same. have the same responses. routines.
-he realizes he does too.
-izzy is the only other self aware character inside of the game, noah nearly strangled her when she told him she’s known for a long time.
rest of the story is sierra and alejandro realizing the characters are becoming self aware, and being like WTFFFF especially since they all start having distinct reactions and dialogues once sierra takes over alejandro’s farmer for a bit, seeing as they act very different.
this story would likely not have a super happy ending since ya know, most of the characters aren’t real. but i love fucking around with grey idea things like knowing ur trapped inside a game forever, but also loving the people and life you have in there! as well as ofc the eventual angst involved once feelings become a thing noah has for alejandro, seeing as he knows he’s real, and the farmer he plays as will never actually be him.
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blessedwithabadomen · 17 hours
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in love with the mess - day thirteen
summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?
content : smut (oral (m receiving), anal sex, dirty talk, I genuinely don't remember the rest lmao help), angst, fluff
length : 7k
tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens @sunsshinesunny
a/n : we're back, baby!!! hope you enjoy this one!!
•••
day thirteen
Noah called dibs on the shower first thing in the morning and neither Oli nor I minded very much as we cuddled deeper into the blanket for a little longer, wrapped up in each other, perfectly warm and comfortable. He had tucked my head under his chin, keeping me safe from the world and the cold outside of the bed, and lowly hummed a nonsensical melody that seemed to vibrate through my whole body in the nicest way. It would have suited me just fine to stay here with him forever, the noise of the shower in the background assuring me that there was another amazing man just a few feet away, waiting to join us again. Unfortunately, what did happen was that my brain caught up with the reminder that I needed to talk to Oli.
“You know I talked to Noah yesterday, right?” I mumbled against his chest, unable to resist leaving a little kiss on it. He hummed in reply, abandoning the melody he had been clinging to before. “He… he confided in me that he might want to try some things. With you.”
I’d barely registered that he had been stroking my back until he stopped. His hand remained there, large and warm, keeping me close, but just from the way the movement ceased I knew that he was deep in thought already. And I’d barely told him anything.
“Yeah? Like what?” His voice was low and scratchy after hours of not having talked at all and it made my whole body tingle. But I needed to concentrate. Choose my words wisely.
“I think he’d love if it you took charge a little. Dominate him. I think the actual words were along the lines of you doing with him whatever you pleased.”
Oli stiffened against me, his breath coming through a little heavier. This was the opposite of a rejection of the idea. I was sure I’d feel him grow in my hands if I let them wander a little lower.
“That what he said?” he asked, sounding even more husky now.
“Pretty sure he mentioned something about being on his knees for you too.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled, holding me a little tighter. “Yeah, I… I think I can do that.”
“I think it could really help him figure some things out. About how he feels about being with a man. With you. If that’s what you want too.”
“Aubrey, I can’t even begin to explain how much I want that. Fuck, I don’t think I brought the lube.”
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing out loud, purely amused at the way he was already thinking about the logistics of things. It was so much more organised than I was used to with him, but I figured the idea of getting Noah to himself was enough motivation.
“Well. You and Noah have some press stuff to do now but then you have a few hours off before you need to be back at the arena. I could… get some shopping done. If you can manage being a big boy and doing the interviews all by yourself.”
“You should know by now how much of a big boy I am,” Oli chuckled, grinding his crotch against me.
“Fucking hell,” I giggled, squirming out of his tight grip and turning onto my back, moving my head just enough to still see him out of the corner of my eye. “You’re the worst.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” I sighed, as if the truth pained me in any way whatsoever, but the smile on my face said it all. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
The sound of Noah turning off the water and fumbling around in the bathroom pulled us out of our little bubble. For now. There would hopefully be more than enough time later, for us, and for the bubble to become a little bigger.
•••
I was in the middle of Boots, studying the contents of the shelf in front of me, a shopping bag from a clothing store next to my feet, when my phone rang. As expected, it was Lia, who I’d texted to let her know that I’d be free for a while if she wanted to call on her lunch break. I didn’t give her a chance to even say hello when I picked up, much less waste our time with any small talk.
“Oli told me he loved me.”
What followed was a series of shouts and screams that pierced my poor eardrums to the point where I had to hold the phone away from my face, much to the amused stare of an elderly woman who passed me by and absolutely heard the commotion my best friend was causing.
“Okay, shoot, give me all the details, because I’m dying to know.”
“I can’t, I’m in the middle of Boots.”
“So? I don’t think anyone there will care. Unless- Oh my god he confessed during sex, didn’t he! That sly dog.”
“Maybe,” I admitted and found myself blushing. “But he meant it. He’s told me about a hundred times since.”
“Aubrey, my girl, I’m genuinely so happy for you. I knew that idiot would come around and realise he couldn’t let someone like you go. Honestly, it’s more of a jackpot situation for him than you.”
I giggled quietly as I continued perusing the shelf in front of me.
“Thank you. I’m… I’m really, embarrassingly in love with him.”
I almost drifted off just thinking about it.
“Well, I don’t want to dampen the mood on your news here but I gotta ask. Noah?”
“Yeah, Noah,” I sighed. “We haven’t exactly told him yet. I don’t want to put any pressure on him by letting him know that Oli and I have said it because I already know he feels like a third wheel for other reasons. But we also can’t keep this from him for much longer, obviously. We’ll meet with him again in a bit in the hotel to- um. Yeah. I’ll talk to Oli before the show, too. Maybe we can all sit down together afterward.”
“I’d say don’t stress yourself too much but that just feels like I would belittle you so I won’t. But that boy would be stupid as hell not to want to be with both of you. And I really hope he realises that in time, because all of you truly deserve each other. It’s time for you to be happy. Like, really deliriously happy.”
“Thank you, Lia. Honestly. I’ll call you with news as soon as I get them, promise.”
I was about ready to hang up, finish my shopping and head back to the hotel, when Lia piped up once again.
“Wait, why the fuck are you in Boots anyway? Is Oli making you run unnecessary errands as part of your questionable job description?”
“Not… really. We, uh, needed some stuff. Lube, actually. We really need lube. And I’m about to have a breakdown trying to decide which one to buy.”
Lia, to my utmost respect, wasn’t fazed at all.
“Now that entirely depends on what you need it for. Water-based: Great for toys but doesn’t last as long. Silicone-based: Don’t use with toys because there’s a chance it will dissolve them. Great for anal though because it’s long-lasting. Any other main ingredients, don’t even bother. Okay, my colleague is waving me in and she’s shot me the stranges look so she probably heard. Gotta go, text or call me when you can, love you!”
The silicone-based lube wandered straight into my basket. Along with another assortment of condoms. Just in case.
•••
I was the first one back at the hotel. I’d taken the liberty to decide that we’d meet again in Oli’s room, not only but also because he simply had the biggest and fanciest one out of the three of us. Fumbling with the nightstand, I was relieved to find a drawer to deposit my shopping in. No need to freak Noah out with the sight of lube that was absolutely meant for him.
Although, if anyone was currently freaking out, it seemed to be me. Ridiculous, really. I wasn’t the one about to go further in terms of first experiences with the same gender. Far from it. But maybe I knew that this could make or break it all. This could be Noah realising that, yes, he was into this and he wanted this forever. Or it could be Noah realising that he wasn’t actually into all of this at all. And without him and Oli being… a thing, of any sort whatsoever, I didn’t see this triad going anywhere. It would simply be cause for too much inequality, jealousy, confusion. It was a terrifying thought. Losing Noah. Even if I wasn’t quite sure I’d ever had him.
I needed to get my nerves under control. I was supposed to be here to support Noah when he faltered, not make it worse. I debated what kind of clothes to change into. I didn’t want to be too sexy - this wasn’t about me. But I also didn’t want to go too casual. Because this was anything but. In the end, I decided on a nice-but-not-overly-sensual set of underwear under a short dress. Easy access in case it was needed, but not expecting anything.
I was overthinking this, I realised. Especially when the door opened, both Oli and Noah all but falling into the room, their hands and mouths all over each other in such desperate frenzy that I couldn’t help but wonder how much teasing they’d engaged in on the way here. As soon as Oli spotted me sitting on his bed, he lightly pushed Noah away, showing me the most devilish smile.
“Thought I’d get him a little warmed up,” he grinned, so self-assured and smug with himself that I had to actively stop myself from rolling my eyes. I quickly crossed the distance between us, running my hands down Noah’s back with a hum.
“Plenty warm for sure.”
Noah easily pulled me in, kissing him with just as much passion as he had Oli and I was sure I could taste both of them on his tongue. I felt myself turning to putty in his hands, on the way to forgetting what the plan was completely, but Oli took it upon himself to grab onto my hair and yank my head back, not terribly harshly, but enough to coax a moan out of me.
Another thought I’d have to shelf for later.
“How involved do you two want me?” I asked, deciding that we’d at least need to be serious for a moment. “Because I’d love to get hands on but I can also literally sit in that armchair and watch.”
Oli turned back to Noah, giving him a nod and a look that told him it was up to him alone. Noah’s eyes flew back and forth between the two of us for a moment, before he finally seemed to settle on an answer.
“You can help Oli.”
“Help?”I grinned, my hand landing on his chest. “Help him make you his bitch? I can do that.”
I enjoyed the way he gulped, obviously nervous but getting a little more aroused at my words. If it hadn’t been so hot, it would have been ridiculous how willing Noah was to submit to Oli. I could only imagine how much it turned the other man on.
“We’re going to need a safeword,” Oli threw in. “Just in case.”
Noah nodded. I was relieved he didn’t seem to be anxious at the idea that we would do something that could potentially become too much for him. We’d be watching him closely all the way, but the risk of missing something was always there.
“I know,” I giggled. “How about “Blossom”? Your Powerpuff Girl?”
Noah groaned. “I hate it.”
“Yeah? Well, unfortunately your time to have an opinion on things has just ended, pretty boy. It’s “Blossom”. Help me undress him, Aubrey.”
And just like that, with his words and the way the tone of his voice changed, he had both of us in the palm of his hand. I moved onto Noah, my fingers on the hem of his shirt, when Oli stepped behind me, body pressed to mind, and whispered in my ear, “Tease him as much as you like. He needs to know he's ours and ours alone. But make him keep his hands to himself. Here's here to receive, not to give.”
I nodded, slowly moving the fabric up his torso, fingertips trailing along so softly he would barely he able to feel it at all.
“Hear that?” Oil addressed Noah. “No touching. You be a good boy and take what we give you. If you can't behave, we'll just have to take other precautions.”
“Like wha-” Noah didn't get to finish his question as Oli pressed a finger against his lips.
“You'll find out.”
When Oli went to work on Noah's trousers, he wasn't half as gentle as my fingers were as they pried the shirt from his chest, inch by inch, until I could lift it over his head and discard it fully. Instead, the sweatpants were roughly pulled down in one go, landing at his feet and leaving Noah to struggle getting out of them by himself.
My hands were reading over Noah's tattoos, my mouth following, never missing a chance to worship his body, to let him know how incredibly perfect he was for us, to have him sighing and heating up under my treatment. Oli had moved behind him, spoiling him in a similar fashion, until he pressed his body fully against him, his hardening erection touching Noah's arse with too many layers in between still.
As if completely on their own accord, Noah's hands flew back, reaching for Oli, for anything the other man would give him. Instantly, Oli stepped back, letting Noah's hands grasp for nothing at all. One look from him was enough to make me follow suit. Noah looked back and forth between us, almost shocked at the reaction. He should have known better. Should have known that Oli Sykes didn't make empty threats.
“What did I say?”
“No touching,” Noah grumbled.
“And what did you do?”
“Tried to touch.”
I was amazed at the scene unfolding before me. Noah, broad shoulders, a little taller than Oli, so often so sure of himself, so often so dominant when it came to me, was hanging his head at being scolded, still fighting against his instincts but desperate to be good for Oli. However unnatural the idea might have seemed at first, right now it seemed perfectly correct. Oli would not necessarily give him what he wanted, but he would get exactly what he needed.
“So, what do we do with you now?” Oli ran a teasing finger along Noah's shoulders, revelling in the control he had over him. “I think you need to sit out for a while. Take a seat on that armchair and think about how to be better when it's your turn. Because I really need my dick sucked so I can concentrate but it's not gonna be you.”
I could see that Noah was about to protest, but as soon as I caught his eye, I gave him a slow but clear shake of my head. For just another moment, the fire seemed to burn in him, then he left out a dramatic sigh and walked over to the chair. My eyes were still watching him when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder slowly pushing me to my knees. I didn't resist.
Not when Oli stood in front of me and opened his trousers. Not when he pushed them down, revealing his tented underwear which quickly followed in being discarded. Not when his hand landed under my chin, making me look up, just inches from his hard cock.
“Be a good girl and take me deep, yeah? Make me come with that talented mouth of yours so we can get on with our boy.”
My enthusiastic nodding was disrupted by Oli pushing his body forward and pressing his tip against my lips. I parted them willingly, not bothering with teasing or foreplay as I wrapped a hand around his shaft and immediately swallowed him. I loved the weight on my tongue, the tight hold he had on the back of my neck, the taste of him running down my throat. Even if he hadn't asked, I would have been on a mission to take as much of him as I could.
Above me, I could make out Oli babbling praise and encouragement but my eyes were ringing with the effort of being more, being better. Once, twice, I gagged, but I wasn't deterred. Working in more and more of him, I relaxed my throat, my body, my hands now limp at my sides as I was unable to concentrate on anything else.
“Noah, I swear to god, if you touch yourself!”
I couldn't even care enough to try and take a peek. Oli's attention was back on me, words on how well I was taking him, how good he felt in my mouth, how much he wanted to shoot down my throat only encouraging me further.
“Fuck you're getting so good at this, soon you'll swallow me whole, baby.”
Not soon. Not soon.
Taking another deep breath and willing myself to become as relaxed as possible, I moved my head again, further and further and further and-
Oli exploded the second my nose bumped against his body. I greedily swallowed as much as I could, failing spectacularly as he started pulling away, leaving more in my mouth and on my lips.
“Fuck, Aubrey, where’d you learn that,” Oli chuckled but then immediately pushed my mouth close, his hand on my chin. “Don’t swallow it all. Let him have a taste, too.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. With slightly wobbly legs, a mild headrush, and a wet sensation between my legs, I made my way to Noah, straddled his lap and held my head in his hands. I waited for him to give me confirmation that this was okay, but he nodded so eagerly I really wouldn’t have had to. Grabbing his chin, I pulled his mouth open as mine descended on it, kissing him deeply and giving him everything of Oli I had left. He lapped it up, desperate for a taste, desperate to please, his hands suddenly on my hips.
“Someone just can’t behave, can they?” Oli tutted behind me. Noah’s hands flew away as if stung, suddenly remembering he’d violated the one rule that’d been put to him.
I scrambled off his lap, unsure of how Oli would deal with the situation but knowing that it wouldn't involve me staying on top of Noah. Without any words, Oli motioned for Noah to get up, then left him standing in the middle of the room while he walked over to his suitcase, shedding the rest of his clothes as he went, and rummaged through it until he found the desired piece of fabric. A thin scarf.
I watched, in awe and increasingly aroused, how Noah, so against his nature, stood still, naked and hard, willingly letting Oli take the reigns. The display of trust made my heart skip a beat. Oli moved behind his body, taking his arms until they met at his back, then skilfully tied the scarf around Noah's wrists until he was immobilised.
“Not too tight?” he asked, all traces of dominance briefly leaving his voice as he checked up on the other man, who wriggled his fingers and then shook his head. Immediately, Oli fell back into his role. “On the bed then. On your knees.”
Noah obeyed, struggling to get into the requested position without the use of his arms, almost losing his balance in between, but making no move to complain. Oli watched, proud and satisfied and already growing again.
Noah looked like a vision. On his knees, more submissive than I'd ever seen him, his head hanging low even though he hadn't been asked for it, hair tickling his face. The muscles in his back and thighs were flexing again and again, his cock already leaking. He was getting turned on by this, finally getting what he wanted from Oli, and it was nothing short of beautiful.
In fact, the sight had distracted me so much, I didn't notice that Oli had grabbed something else until a  sleeping mask slipped over Noah's eyes. He briefly became restless at the sudden removal of one more of his senses, but as Oli whispered something in his ear, he nodded again, the tension leaving his body.
“Aubrey,” Oli called out and I sat up straight, as if I’d gotten hit by lightning. This wasn’t even about me, but the tone in his voice was hard to resist. I wondered what it would be like to have all of it directed at me. “Come here.”
Just like Noah, I didn’t hesitate. He motioned to the bed, but before I could move onto it, he grabbed my arm, this time actually whispering in my ear quietly enough that Noah wouldn’t hear.
“Let’s see how many times we can get him to the edge, shall we?” As cruel as it sounded, Oli’s voice was all the more soft for it. And the idea of edging Noah until he couldn’t think straight anymore sounded more than appealing. And oh, was it a treat.
Oli and I were everywhere, switching between hands and mouths and fingers and tongues, leaving Noah a sweaty, moaning mess, blind and bound, with no clue as to what was coming next or from whom. I let my hands wander, taking the time to trace every single one of his tattoos, feeling along every muscle in his back, then letting my mouth follow the same trails, putting it on his cock for just a second before pulling back. Oli followed suit, licking up and down the other man’s body until he was moaning and sighing and twitching against his restraints.
“You’re allowed to beg, pretty boy,” Oli murmured before capturing Noah’s lips in a kiss as I took him in my mouth, deeply, getting him as close as I could before the warning signs set in and then removed myself from his body completely. Again. And again.
“Please, come on, I just- fuck- I-”
Even through his pleading, he sounded constrained, holding onto whatever control or power he thought he could still cling to in his position. Oli was behind him now, making sure that Noah wouldn’t completely lose his balance as I sucked on him again, fingers moving around his body until they came to rest on his throat, choking him ever so slightly.
“You’re still not letting go, Noah,” he scolded.”You still think this is a fight you can win. Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me? Don’t you want to please me? Do what I’m telling you? I know you want me to go further. You don’t just want my cock in your mouth, do you? You want it somewhere else. You might just get it, love. But you have to let go for me.”
I could basically see the switch flip in Noah’s mind. As if he knew he was going to be safe. That he could trust both of us to only do what was best for him. That he could tap out any time. But that if he really wanted and needed this as much as he had let on before, he needed to allow himself to submit to it.
Without any further prompting from either of us, Noah bent forward, still kneeling, until his forehead hit the mattress, beautifully submissive, giving up control and putting it in our hands.
“Please,” he whispered again, more desperate now, more whiny, more willing not to hold back.
Oli looked so smug at having succeeded it was almost annoying. I motioned toward the nightstand, hoping he’d understand I’d stashed the lube there, and then went back to my ministrations of the gorgeous man in front of me. Peppering kisses on his back as it was now so nicely presented to me, I struggled to move my hand underneath his body again, finding his dick harder than before, precum immediately spilling onto me. He shuffled, just enough to make more space, but stayed in position.
When Oli returned, kneeling on the bed behind Noah, his fingers were lubed up, the bottle dropping onto the mattress next to him.
“So gorgeous, love, so pretty and spread out,” Oli praised as he carefully started circling Noah’s hole. I removed my hand, not wanting to overwhelm Noah with the multitude of sensations he was being presented to. Instead, I laid down on my side next him, wordlessly communicating with Oli as I pointed toward the sleep mask. He nodded, allowing me to slip it away from Noah’s head.
“You good?” I asked, quietly, petting his hair, letting the soft strands run between my fingers. He turned his head toward me, cheeks reddened and eyes glossy, utterly stunning, and whispered a yes back. I pressed my lips against his, swallowing his sighs and moans, the way his breath hitched as Oli prepared him. I couldn’t get over how gorgeous he was right in this moment.
Even when Noah broke the kiss, breathing heavily, eyes shutting in an emotion that seemed to be somewhere between pleasure and overwhelming sensations, I stayed by his side. I didn’t watch what Oli was doing or how, I simply couldn’t tear my eyes from Noah. His reactions, his high-pitched noises in between and then a long, drawn-out moan that echoed through the room, told me enough.
Noah was a mess, moaning and mumbling to himself, barely holding his body up anymore on his knees, face fully smushed into the pillow, when Oli let go of him. He quickly fumbled with the scarf around Noah’s wrists, undoing his work and throwing the item on the floor. He rolled Noah, who didn’t resist at all, on his back, then grabbed his arms and placed delicate kisses on the skin where he had been tied.
“So gorgeous,” Oli praised as his kisses moved upwards until his mouth was on Noah’s again. “So pretty and ready for me, love.”
They kissed for a while, Oli keeping as much distance as he could between them as Noah was now so hard and leaking precum that I feared he’d come from the slightest touch.
“Do you think you can take me?” Oli asked and was met with such enthusiastic nodding that both of us had to bite back a chuckle. “How do you want it? It might be easiest if you tried to ride-”
“No,” Noah found his voice, husky and rough. “Like this. Please.”
“Anything for you,” Oli whispered against his lips.
My heart was bursting at the seams with love. I could have spent the rest of my life watching these two together, these men that had captivated me and made me fall so hard, looking so utterly beautiful together, like they had always been meant to be. I couldn’t put in words how much I wanted to three of us to be that. Meant to be. Forever.
Oli went to kneel between Noah’s legs, grabbing more lube that he generously lathered his own cock with, gasping slightly at the feeling, before pushing Noah’s knees back to make room. Noah’s hand reached for mine and as I held onto it, I almost allowed a confession of love to pass my lips. It didn’t matter what we were doing, what constellation was currently involved with what, who was on the sidelines - we were in it together, the three of us, always.
Oli pushed in, slowly, eyes always on Noah, pure concern masking the pleasure. Noah’s face was slightly screwed up, but he was breathing deeply, and within moments he was begging Oli for more.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Oli moaned as he slowly bottomed out. “Can’t believe no one’s done this to you before, you’re fucking made for this, so perfect.”
Noah’s low groans were increasing in volume as he squeezed my hand tightly, the other fisting the bedsheets. Oli was still moving with utmost care, changing his angles until-
Noah whailed and Oli might have just been the happiest person on the planet. With a slight increase in his tempo, he started hitting the spot, again and again, until I was worried Noah was going to start crying from the intensity.
“‘m not gonna last,” Oli mumbled, thrusting into Noah and tethering on the edge of losing control. “Touch him, Aubrey.”
Noah didn’t need much more. As soon as I wrapped my fingers around him, a single stroke pushed him over the edge. With a noise I’d never heard him make before, he arched into me, moved harder against Oli, and spilled all over my hand and his stomach. The resulting tension made Oli fall apart as well, moaning shamelessly as he pushed into Noah a few more times, until he was fully spent.
Both of them seemed overwhelmed with the experience, but the post-orgasmic pleasure was palpable. Oli had carefully pulled out and all but collapsed on the bed next to Noah so I took over aftercare duty, cleaning both of them up as much as I could, dropping words of praise and soft kisses wherever they would let me. I only stopped when Noah deftly pulled me down next to him, cuddling into me, then reached behind him to make Oli spoon him.
I listened as their breathing started to even out and the room fell quiet. Noah’s head was buried in my chest, pressed so deeply into the fabric of my dress that I wondered how he was still able to breathe, while Oli was fully attached to his back, as if attempting to fuse into one person. I didn’t think either of us could really grasp what we were feeling in that moment, but somehow, it had changed us fundamentally. The trust and love that had just been put on display between us.
I let the two of them rest for as long as I could, but I knew that people were waiting for us, a whole arena full of them, so before Noah could fully drift off, I herded both of them into the bathroom for a quick shower. Or what should have been a quick shower.
The space was much more limited than the one at Oli’s place and there was an additional person, but we still somehow squeezed into it, battling to stay under the water under soft giggles and sighs. We all did our best to clean each other, freshen up so we would be presentable, but it wasn’t until Oli’s hand travelled up the inside of my thigh that I was reminded of the lingering wetness that had nothing to do with the water raining down on us. It brough a pitiful moan to my lips.
“Feels like someone really enjoyed the show,” Oli teased, his eyes darkening as he sent a smirk my way. “I think we owe her an orgasm, Noah.”
Noah didn’t need much more invitation. Pressing himself against my back, his hand joined Oli’s between my legs, both of them feeling my arousal clearly as I almost buckled under the attention. I’d barely registered how turned on I’d been, fully focused on the two men and their enjoyment, but now that they were on me and I was finally naked, I knew it wouldn’t take much.
Oli’s lips found mine, immediately pushing his tongue into my mouth as his finger circled my clit, dragging another moan from my throat and straight into him. Noah left a kiss at the top of my hair, one arm sneaking around my waist to hold me steady as his hand rested on my stomach, the other… I couldn’t tell for sure, but the stretch was harsh enough that I assumed he’d immediately pushed two fingers into me.
My body felt like pure jelly as the two played with me, skillfully touching and teasing me and allowing me to fuck myself on their hands. I didn’t even attempt to be quiet when the euphoria rushed over me, clawing at Oli’s arms, my head dropping against his chest, riding my orgasm under praise and touches all over me until the oversensitity took hold of me. Both of them immediately noticed, withdrawing their hands but keeping me up until I could safely stand again.
I kissed Oli again, then turned around to do the same to Noah, who looked so happy, so ecstatic, that I wished I could frame this moment and keep it with me in perfect clarity forever.
And then Noah dropped his head to my shoulder and mumbled, so quietly that I wasn’t sure Oli could hear or even if I had heard correctly, “I think I could fall in love with a man.”
•••
I was floating on a cloud. So what if we hadn’t fully resolved the situation? So what if Noah still didn’t know that Oli and I had said those words to each other? So what if Noah hadn’t fully admitted to his feelings or that none of us had technically heard Oli say what was going through his mind either? None of it was enough to bring me down.
I caught up with Oli as soon as both of us had a moment free in our schedules, immediately allowing him to pull me into his lap in his dressing room, both of us desperate for the closeness.
“How are you feeling?” I mumbled into his sweatshirt as my head dropped to his shoulder. I was straddling him fully, having accepted that this was somehow a happy place for both of us, his arms holding me securely.
“So fucking good,” he laughed as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “I don’t know if I needed to fuck a man that badly or if it’s just Noah but holy shit.”
We both giggled against each other, bodies heaving with the noise, holding each other that little bit tighter as the memories appeared in both of our minds. I’d known it wanted this again and again and more the very second we had all collapsed in the bed but it was more than a relief to hear Oli felt the same. The calm and quiet returned only slowly.
“And… and everything else with Noah?” I finally asked.
Oli stayed quiet for a while. It didn’t worry me - I knew he was probably weighing his words, trying to figure out what exactly he felt and how to articulate it, and I gave him the time he needed, my fingers moving under his sweatshirt to draw soothing little circles on his skin.
“I… I want him. For everything. All the time. The way I want you. I don’t know if it’s too early to say anything else but… I think I’m in love with him.”
I almost started crying right then and there. Lifting my head, I put both of my hands to the sides of his face, needing to make sure he was here, saying these words.
“I’m in love with him too.”
“Do you think we can do this?” Oli questioned, his fingers softly combing through my hair, but his eyes never leaving mine. “The three of us?”
“I don’t know. But I’ll never forgive myself if we don’t try.”
Oli pressed a short kiss to my mouth. “That makes two of us.”
•••
About an hour later, I’d made sure Oli was where he needed to be, grabbed the biggest portion of food I could find while scarfing it down with worrying speed, then planted a kiss on Noah’s lips when I met him in the hallway and turned away to get to the sound desk quickly enough that I wouldn’t see his reaction. Nicholas gave me a thumbs up on the way out.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” Becky mused as soon as I approached, opening the barrier for me and waiving me in. She leaned in, just to make sure no one else would hear when she continued. “Did you get good dick?”
“Well, technically, I didn’t, but…”
“Oh, you dirty girl, what did the three of you get up to!”
I didn’t indulge her in any details but my smile seemed to tell her everything. We had enough to do as it was - even if that didn’t stop her from throwing me knowing looks every now and then and wriggling her eyebrows suggestively.
The Bad Omens set passed by in no time at all and I was starting to enjoy how some details were already becoming something akin to a routine. Still, Becky very much ordered me around, trying to explain as much as possible when we had a moment, especially in between sets. I almost wished I could take notes, just to make sure I would really remember. Even though I wasn’t quite sure what for.
“Oh, by the way, are you going to be on the early flight out to Dublin tomorrow?” Becky asked out of nowhere, almost throwing me out of the loop. I fished the phone out of the pocket of my jeans, showing her the time I’d jotted down for the flight that most of the bands and close crew was on.
“This one? Why?”
“Perfect,” Becky grinned. “Nothing in particular. Just wanted to catch you before you get on the plane. Got something to give you tomorrow.”
“Something- what?”
“Nothing at all. Oh, look, time to start the trailer for Bring Me, no time to talk!”
I was getting sick and tired of surprises. Or, I would have been, if all of them hadn’t been so damn perfect lately. Still, I couldn’t help giving her the side-eye for the next hour, impossibly curious but knowing just as well she probably wouldn’t spill. And with Oli on stage, my brain was fried anyway as I watched him, utterly happy and ecstatic, easily giving one of the best shows of his life.
Becky didn’t even reimprand me when I completely lost focus when it was time for Antivist. In fact, all duties forgotten, my eyes were solely glued on the two men currently on stage. The one I was already able to call my boyfriend and the one he had just introduced as a very special person. Both of them were. Very special people. My heart was so absolutely irredeemably lost to them that, no matter how deliriously happy I was about being able to call Oli mine, I also knew fully well that we wouldn’t be complete without Noah.
My whole body ached to have him too. And I was sure Oli’s did as well. Time didn’t matter. Distance didn’t matter. Societal expectations didn’t matter. All I needed to be happy now, truly, fully happy, was for Noah to be honest with us and, hopefully, so hopefully, become ours as much as we were already his.
I barely noticed the next two songs passing, entirely too caught up in my thoughts and the way Oli looked so ridiculously gorgeous on screen and how stupidly lucky I’d gotten with him already.
“Go.”
I turned back to Becky, confused and unsure if she’d spoken to me at all. The band was off stage, waiting for the montage to come on before performing their encore, so the room was marginally quieter. She nodded, confirming my question, and motioned randomly toward the left.
“There’s some reserved seating in 101, left to the stage. Go. Enjoy the last songs. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you-?”
She didn’t let me finish, almost violently pushing me against the barrier which didn’t open quite in time to let me out. I didn’t ask for more encouragement, sprinting through the venue via as many shortcuts as I could remember, flashing my pass and moving down the rows of seats where a few select friends and family had gathered just as Doomed started playing.
It had been a while since I’d gotten to watch Oli perform from such close proximity but it never failed to stun me wholly. The way he threw his entire being into performance with absolute disregard for his own wellbeing, driven my nothing but pure emotions, memories, whatever energetic currents were running through the arena, was easily one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. I loved him. Irrevocably.
He spotted me during Lost. An almost undetectable skip in his actions. A stare right in my direction. Pointing toward me. A kiss thrown my way. I couldn’t help but send one back, watching as he caught it and put it in his pocket, face never changing, but I knew he meant it. He meant it all.
And I knew we needed to talk to Noah. Tonight.
•••
I was already waiting backstage, right where the band would come off stage but safely out of view from the audience, when the show ended. The others passed me by first on their way to their dressing rooms, Mat throwing me a smile and giving me a pat on the shoulder as if I needed any sort of encouragement. And then Oli appeared, stunning, sweaty, happy and all I could do was run straight into the arms that were opening just for me and press a kiss to his mouth. He pulled me closer to his body, completely ignorant of the way I stuck to him in the heat his skin emitted and who was I to complain. I would have him anyway I got him, freshly showered or or completely sweaty alike.
“I love you,” Oli said, freely and confidently and my heart wanted to leap, still so incredibly enamoured and overwhelmed any time he said those words and never wanting him to stop.
“I-”
The words didn’t even manage to leave my mouth before I saw him.
Noah.
Standing behind Oli, his eyes locked with mine, his posture tense, his face unreadable, then crestfallen, then… resigned.
We hadn’t told him yet. We hadn’t told him and now he knew. He knew we hadn’t told him. That we’d kept it from him. That we’d spent who knows how long basking in our own happiness. Without him. And suddenly he looked like all fears he’d ever had combined.
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cutiecusp · 14 hours
Text
All I wanted was you. PART ONE.
A Phillip Graves x Reader two part drabble, around the time of the betrayal, but not canon...
I made this part really long. It was only meant to be a one and done! I'm still super new to writing, so I'd love to know what you think.
Tw// betrayal, marriage breakdown, angst, a little toxicity, the one that got away.
...................................
He knew he fucked up when the light in your eyes faded when you looked up at him, your gaze once full of light and love, is now replaced by a cold, icy stare. You were furious.
"How could you?" You ask him, seething with anger. You step into his space, your voice soft, but deadly. You place your hands on his chest, grabbing the straps of his tactical vest and pulling him closer to you, making him see what his actions had caused. His cocky smirk was replaced by a stern look back at you, a robotic version of your once loving husband. You didn't even recognise him anymore.
"My family, my friends, my team... Soap, Ghost, Alé...." You pause, unable to look at the man you once loved. You remove your hands from him as if you had been burned, your voice unable to stop shaking as you processed what he was telling you.
"You betrayed them all, Phillip. You betrayed me." You gasp as you head towards the door, only turning to wrench off your wedding ring and watch as it bounces off the floor into the corner of the room.
Graves looks up at the door as it slams shut, the noise echoing in the otherwise quiet base.
"I did it for you, sweetheart." He says to himself.
"It's always been for you."
......................................
After driving away from your family home where you left him reeling, tears stinging your cheeks, your heart broken into pieces, you walk back to into base, your steps heavy with the weight of your husbands betrayal. You hadn't been allowed on this mission, you picked up a stray bullet in the Middle East and stayed on base at the order of your husband, Shadow Company Commander, Phillip Graves.
You had begged to come along, but Phillip saw you as a 'medical liability' and wanted you home safe, so you bit your tongue and stayed back. You hated that he treated you like you were a fragile doll, and over time, you had begun to see what he really was, a snake in the grass.
But, you simply couldnt shake the guilt riddled through you as the thought of Phillip danced through your mind. You couldn't believe he would betray you like this, turning on the team he swore to protect, turning his back on you. You at least thought he would be honour bound at protecting you.
Hearing Soap and Ghost over comms as they found each other, not knowing if the other is alive is what ate at you the most. You had become a member of the Task Force by proxy, being recruited in with Soap, but was welcomed in like you has always belonged. You had seen the team as family, but would they now see you the same?
You take a breath before knocking on Price's door.
"Enter." Came the reply.
You walked in, unable to meet your Captains gaze. Although you didn't partake in the betrayal, you felt a responsibility as it was your husband who gave the order that sent everything into chaos.
"Look at me, Sergeant." He ordered. Your gaze snaps up to his, and you hate what you see. Pain, anger, and possibly the worst of all, disappointment.
"I will ask you this once, and on your life, you had better be bloody honest with me." He pauses.
"Did you know?"
Your face pales. You stare back at him, with what you hope is a neutral face.
"Sir?" You ask cautiously.
"I said. Did. You. Know?" He repeats slowly, his voice low and dangerous.
"No, Captain. I didn't know what his plans were." You reply honestly, wringing your hands together.
"This is as much as a surprise as it is to me, as it is to you."
Captain Price stares at you, taking in every detail, and after a few painstakingly painful minutes, he stands up from the desk.
"No ring?" He taunts.
"No sir. I'm filing for divorce in the morning." You reply quickly, the discomfort and embarrassment of what Phillip is putting you through with his actions showing all over your features.
He simply nods.
"You know, I had to fight Laswell to keep you on the team?" He says bluntly. He walks around the desk so he is toe to toe with you, his broad body taking over much of the area between you both.
"She didn't want me to allow a traitor back into our team. But there's something different.. something I put my finger on when I figured you weren't 'cleared' for the mission."
"He didn't want you there as he wanted you out of the way while he buried us, he didn't want any witnesses or survivors, and as his wife and someone on our team, he saw you as a liability. One of my best soldiers and a jumped up asshole with money decided that you weren't good enough to come raised all the flags I needed. There's a difference between protecting your loved ones and hanging them for your own actions, you have never been a liability." He continues, almost reverse echoing Phillips words back to you.
You nodded, listening to your Captain.
"So I have a choice for you. You are to be taken to a safe house, as a liability to the team that he thinks you are unti lthis is cleared and you will be in court alongside him. Or..."
"Or? Sir?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.
"You come with me and the 141 and we end him. For good."
You take a step back, and gather your thoughts. Your ex husband wouldn't have even hesitated, so why should you.
"I'm in, Sir. " You clarify, holding your head high.
"I only have one condition."
Price nods, encouraging you to speak.
"I get the first punch in." You demand, a glimmer of defiance and strength in your eyes.
"I am not a liability."
*a/n I really worried about the length of this one, so I am breaking it into two parts. What do you all think? It went a weird way so part two will clear things up? Nervous as hell as always.*
@going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @xoxunhinged @misshugs
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skullcfusher · 2 days
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When u tlked about the toby n kate HCs u gave us Kate angst HCs do u have any toby angst HCS I'm obsessed w sibling relationship kate toby its the best 100 percent
Ok I tried typing out a huge thing but it's not letting me post that SOOO you're getting the short version, if anyone is interested in a long version dm me or smth idk BUT here they are
Toby struggles like crazy with masculinity, vulnerability and authority figures, between his father smacking him around and verbally abusing him, the bullies not only at school when he was there but actually trailing to his neighborhood and any time they could find him and all of the neighbors and older folk who saw what was happening but stayed silent, he felt crazy weak, especially when most of the things Frank said to him were always related to him not being man enough in some way, and it didn't help that Toby was a scrawny boy because food was hard to come by, it's not like he was starving by any means but they were kinda just getting by. This follows into his proxy life, always having to be stronger than everyone else in the room, killing people in horrific ways to show his strength and pushing himself to an extent to show that no one should fuck with him. Toby was born into a dog eat dog world but now the point he's at, all of the other dogs aren't hungry but he's still eating even if he's full. No one is trying to hurt him, don't get me wrong not a whole lot of creeps like him all that much but no one is looking to hurt him, but he can't fathom that. He has to fight, no matter how tired he is of fighting, he just doesn't recognize a world outside of that and it scares him. The only being he can't fight is slender, he's horrified of slender because slender has the capability to make that boy feel pain, not in the sense he can just flip the switch and he feels everything now but he can give Toby the most earth shattering, mouth frothing, skin peeling headaches. It's not just some small shit, Toby's feeling throat curdling pain for the first time, if feels like he's burying his own axe into his head. Punishment is bad for all proxies, but this shit is really new to Toby, Tim and Brian usually have to leave when Toby goes under cause they can't stand to hear him when he screams and thrashes he doesn't just fall to the ground and scream either he bites and rips his skin off and throws shit and gets fuckin crazy, Kate tries to stay and comfort but Toby pushes her away, he can't let her take care of him like that he's supposed to be able to handle it how can he not be able to handle something the rest can
Ok that's all for now I think, just cause I'm trying to make it short but if u want more or have any questions or even requests for other creeps I'm SOOOO OPEN I love answering shit
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samandcolbyownme · 11 hours
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since ur now writing for Zach can I pls get a Jared Bailey one shot?? You have free rein and no rish at all for this req. thank uuu fic mommy
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Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of Jared being drunk, drink, flirting, friends to lovers trope, love confession, slight sexting (Jared is bold when he’s drunk), unprotected sex, semi rough actions, biting, scratching, but more love making pretty much? Slight angst, maybe? Fluff with a dash of smut
Based off of this TikTok.
Word count: 4.4k | not really edited
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
You weren’t really excited about Coachella, but your friends on the podcast were destined to change your mind.
You joined the podcast earlier on in the year, and when Coachella came around, you had a ticket that you couldn’t get out of - no matter how hard you tried.
“Come on.” Tara begs, “You need to come with us!”
You sigh, “Tara, I don’t r-“
“You’re either coming or you’re fired.” Zach says and Jared steps in, “Hey now. Don’t say that, a lot of people like her.”
“By those people you mean you?” Zach teases and Jared’s face turns a shade of red, “That- No. I didn’t..” he laughs, “I think it would add to the fun if y/n came with us.”
You let out a long, dramatic sigh, “Twist my arm harder why don’t you?”
——
Weekend one was a partial blur.
You get bits and pieces as you look at the photos you took, which were a mess by the way, but they were so funny to look at.
You had to admit, you were so glad you didn’t try to back out last minute.
One thing in particular that you remember clear as day is standing in the crowd, Jared’s arm around you as you listen to Lana and Billie sing ‘Ocean Eyes’.
You were in total awe of them, just like Jared was of you.
He looks down at you a gently smile resting on his lips as he admires your face. How your eyes are glazed over from a mixture of alcohol happiness because being here was so much better than you had originally thought.
Even though he was slightly plastered, Jared couldn’t seem to keep his love drunk stare off of you. You’d look up at him and he’d just smile at you before looking back up toward the stage.
Every now and then Tara would elbow you and smirk, teasing you about how close you and Jared have become, “I told you, you needed to come.”
You roll your eyes, smiling as you lean into Jared’s body more. Another think you remember,is how you and Jared went back and fourth, all night stealing drunk kisses from each other.
It quickly turned into a competition and the race to find who can steal the most by the end of the night was on - and you won that race.
As weekend one at Coachella came to an end, you can definitely feel that you and Jared are closer. You text and talk on the phone more. You pick on him during the podcasts more and even though his red cheeks scream that he hates it, he secretly loves any attention you give him.
You tried not to let it get to you, but you were questioning yourself on why he hasn’t said anything about what happened.
Fuck, pictures get out from fans, you’re most likely getting a dating label slapped on your asses.
——
W E E K E N D • T W O
“Sucks you can’t come tonight.” Jared says as he puts on his hat. Your eyes move up his body, and you nod as you lean back in the chair, “Yeah, but you know what they say, your moms birthday only happens once a yet or something like that.”
Jared starts laughing and you join in, proud of your joke.
“God I love you.”
You both freeze and he laughs nervously, “You know, cause you’re my best friend. You got that label faster than Zach did.”
You smile slightly, keeping the pain of being friend zoned as contained as you can, “Right.”
He must not remember last weekend.
You nod, “No I get it.” You stand up, checking your phone, “I gotta go. I have to get dressed and then go to my parents house.”
You walk towards the door and stop before you leave, “Have fun tonight.” You smile and he nods, “It’ll be hard without you.”
You laugh, “Call me if you get bored.” As you walk towards the steps, Jared yells out, “You’re going to regret saying that.”
——
As you’re sitting in your parents living room, you get a text from jared and you smile as you read over it, Ready for that phone call yet? I’m bored out of my fucking mind.
Attached was a selfie of him from the chin up. You save that, adding it to the collection of birthday post photos, My sister is taking forever to get ready, so if you want to call quick you can.
Within a quick minute, your phone lights up with JareBear🧸🤍 appearing across the screen. You bring it to your ear as you answer, “Is it really that bad?”
“Oh god, you have no idea.” He groans on the other end, “The artist we’re waiting for, I guess is Ice Spice, but she doesn’t come on until later.”
“sorry to tell ya, sweetie, but you got a few more hours yet.” You laugh slightly and he sighs, whining out, “Don’t make it worse.”
You smirk, “Sorry, sorry.”
Your mind races as you think about just asking him if he remembers what happened last weekend and why you aren’t his girlfriend yet, but as soon as you get read to, your mom rushes out, “Okay. Okay. Shes finally ready.”
“Sounds like you gotta go.” Jared sighs, “Tell your mom I said happy birthday.”
You don’t want to hang up, but you know it’s the right thing to do, “I’ll call you later.” You laugh as you stand up, “Don’t get drunk, too fast.”
He laughs, “I’m not making any promises, sweetheart.”
You tilt your head, “Yeah, yeah.”
“Y/n.” Your sister waves you on and you nod, “Alright, I’m being herded so..” you laugh, “Be safe. Call if you need anything.”
“Promise.”
You hang up and walk over to your sister. She stares st you and you give her a look, “What?”
“That JareBear?” She smirks and you scoff, “I- none.. of your business.” You walk down to the car and she sighs, “The way he looks at you on the podcast, y/n,.”
You stop before you open the door and you nod, “When he looks at me.. I feel like he’s looking at me like I’m actually something worth looking at.”
She juts her lip out and furrows her brows, “He sooo likes you.” She laughs and walks around to get in. Your mom looks back at you, “How’s Jared?”
You feel your cheek heat at the sound of his name, “He’s good. He says happy birthday by the way.” She smiles, “Tell him I said thank you.”
You look down, tapping the screen to type out a text to Jared, My mom says thank you for the birthday wishes.
You see the bubbles pop up and you smile at how fast he answers you, I love your mom, she’s so nice. You smile, Yeah, now you know where I get my niceness from.
You rest your phone down and watch out the window as your mind races about what you are with Jared.
——
As the night goes on, you can tell that Jared is getting drunker by the hour, but he still manages to answer you right away.
It might not be anything related to your previous text, but he still answers you.
You cover your mouth as you read the texts coming in from Jared, “Oh my god.” You lean over to your sister, whispering lowly to her as you bring your phone between the two of you, “look at this.”
I have a glowsitck
Gkoesyick
Fuck
GLOWSTCK
damn it
You laugh and type back quickly before he sends another text, Are you drunk again, J?
You knew calling him J would get him. You don’t do it often, but you’re the only person who calls him that, so it drives Jared crazy in such a good way.
“Do you think he is?” Your sister asks and you laugh with a nod, “Dude.” You lean in, “Last weekend we-“ you glance up at your mom and dad, who are lost in conversation with their friends.
You lower your voice, “When we were drunk, we were all over each other. Literally had a competition to see who could steal kisses from the other most.”
“Who won?”
“Me.” You smirk, and she nods, “Good, carry on.”
You continue filling her in on the night and she smirks, “If you guys don’t become a couple by the end of night, I’m calling him nyself.”
You laugh, looking down as you read his text, Maybe a little bit, and don’t do that.
You bite your lip, playing innocent, Don’t do what?
Your sister leans in, “I think he’s just waiting for another sign that says you want him.” You roll your eyes and before you can argue, she sighs, “This is a man we’re talking about, okay? As much as we hate it, most of them are stubborn as fuck and can’t see what’s right there.”
You shrug, “i think I’ll ask him when I talk to him tomorrow, when he isn’t drunk.” You sip your wine and almost spit it out at your sister’s next statement.
“Invite him back for your place tonight.”
“I can’t do that.” You laugh nervously as you sip your wine, “that’s.. what if.. I can’t..” you shake your head and down the rest of your wine, just in time for the waiter to come and refill the glasses.
Your phone vibrates and you look down after thanking the waiter, You know whayt swerthesr t
You smirk, Are you having fun, J?
“If he wakes up at your place then you have no choice but to talk to him about your relationship.” Your sister nudges you, “That man loves you.”
You smile, pressing your lips together as you chew on your inner cheek. You look down at your phone and your heart skips a beat at Jared’s text, I rally wish yoi werehere we coujd have a repest of last week emf.
You chew on your thumbnail, really thinking about what your sister said, until your mom pulls you from your thoughts, “right, y/n? Honey.”
“What? Sorry.” You laugh slightly, “I think I had a little bit too much wine.” Your mom laughs, “I was just telling Erica about you and Jared, how long have you been together?”
“You do that Dropouts Podcast with him, too, right?” Erica adds and you sigh, “Mom.” You laugh, “Nothing is official, and please don’t be spreading that stuff around.”
“Yeah mom, if that gets out and it’s not true, the fans will come for you.” Your sister jokes and your mom rolls her eyes, “Oh gosh, you and these influencer rules and stuff.”
She goes back to her conversation and you go back go looking at Jared’s message, So you do remember.
He instantly responds, it’s short but you understand, I do.
You look around, excusing yourself before you get up to go to the bathroom, composing yourself because this is a step in the right direction - but you were naturally nervous.
You lean against the sink as you type, I was kind of worried you didn’t remember all of the things with us. That’s about all I can remember.
You look in the mirror, fixing your hair and reapplying your lipstick before walking back out to the table.
Everyone is standing and gathering their things to head to the car. You follow them out, lagging behind with your sister to fill her in on the conversation.
“Progress.” She nods, “Good progress.”
You can’t help but smile as you get in and you look down at your phone, “They’re watching Ice Spice and then I don’t know what they’re doing.”
“I’ll go get him if need be, just..” she looks at you, mouthing out the words, “Get him to come over.”
You roll your eyes, laughing as you shake your head, “I just..” she cuts you off with a tap on the arm and she shakes her head.
“Fine.” You smirk, “I’ll do it.”
——
The car ride from your parent’s house to your house was nerve racking. You stayed there a little bit after and the heat that’s been building up in the conversation between you and Jared was now on fire.
You sat in your car staring at the messages Jared had sent when you were driving, I’m drimk.
So ddrunk.
I love yoy
I’m drunk and o love hou
You rest your fingers over your lips, jumping slightly when you see his incoming call, “Hey, Jare. You doing okay?”
“I was just.. you haven’t answered my texts and I-“
You cut him off, calming him down, “I just got home. I’m still in my car. Here.” You tap the FaceTime icon, “Go to FaceTime, Jare.”
It takes him a second but when his face pops up on the screen, he smiles when he sees you, “Hiii, pretty girl.”
His words send thousands of butterflies lose in your stomach, “It’s me. Hi. I read your texts and I really think you should Uber to my place when you leave Coachella.”
He raises his brows with a smirk, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m already on my way then, yeah?”
“Wait.” You perk up, “Seriously?”
He laughs, “Yeah I’m walking to my Uber now. I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay.” You bite your lip, “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
“I love it when you talk dirty to me, see you soon, baby.”
Your breath hitches and you smile, “See you soon.”
You hang up and race inside, moving around to make everything look nice and neat before running to get a quick shower.
Once feeling refreshed, you opt for a simple t shirt and sweats and your body froze when you heard the door open, “y/n. I’m here.”
You take a deep breath before making your way out, “Hey.” You smile and walk over to him, “How was Ice Spice?”
Jared stares at you before failing at trying to hold back his laughter, “shit, okay. Zach is probably going to bring this up on the podcast because he loves to embarrass me, but-“
He laughs harder, “Okay, so, with us being whatever we are now, would you get mad if I say something about another woman’s ass?”
You furrow your brows in confusion and shake your head, “No.” you raise them, tilting your head, “but, now I’m really intrigued.”
Jared pulls you over to the couch, tossing his hat down on the end stand before he sits down next to you, “so..” he turns towards you, “I’m going to be honest.”
You nod and he sighs, “I was watching the show, and I was thinking about you, and then..” he laughs, “I never knew that someone ass could move like that before.”
You cover your mouth, laughing as you lean back, “Oh my god, Jared.”
“And it..” he lowers his voice, “Turned me on, so then..” He brings his voice back to normal volume, “I naturally thought of you and you know..” he reaches up, brushing hair from your face, “How you make me smile..”
You smile and he smirks as he brushes his hand over your cheek, “and I’m also super horny, but that is way besides the point.”
He laughs slightly and without any hesitation on your end, you grab his face and smash your lips into his. He groans slightly and his hand reaches out to grip your hip, “Mm.” He leans back slightly, eyes scanning over your face, “Do you want to do this?”
You nod, “Do you want to be with me?”
A smirk grows across his face as he nods, “Of course I fucking do.” He pulls you in, kissing you once more as he pulls you into his lap.
His hands snake under your shirt and his cock grows harder as he rolls your perked up nipples between his fingers.
You let out a moan, grinding down on him as he kneads your boobs, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.” Jared whispers, slipping one hand out from under your shirt so he can cup your cheek, “Take your shirt off for me.”
You nod, bunching up the bottom of your shirt before you pull it over your head. He unties his bandana from his neck and leans forward just enough to slip his shirt from his body.
“So are you.” You lean in, kissing up his chest to his neck then over to his lips. His hands grip your hips, moving them slowly as your tongues dance for dominance.
He wins and bites down on your bottom lip, earning a moan from you. You look down at him when he lets your lip go and you whimper, “Can I finally have you?”
He bites his lip, pulling you into him as he sits up to meet you, “You, my love, can have whatever you want.”
You smirk and slide your hands down, nails dragging against his skin. His jaw falls slack when you lift up to slim a hand under you to palm at his aching cock through his shorts.
You lean in, lips brushing against his ear, “You feel so big, J.”
“Fuck.” He breathes out before pushing his lips to yours. He pulls you into him and rolls you over so your back is flush against the cushions, his lips staying on yours for another minute or so before he sits up to pull your sweats down.
He raises a brow when your bare cunt is revealed to him, a smirk rising on his lips “Almost like you knew I was coming over or something.”
You shrug, giving him a wink, “Gut feelings, you know.”
He smiles and stands up to take his shorts and boxers off before returning to the place between your knees, both naked and so beyond hungry for each other.
“You sure?” He asks one more time and you lay your hands on his cheeks, “Need you in me, Jare.” You pull him closed with your ankles that are locked on his lower back and he groans, “Fuck, baby.”
Your lips part as you feel him rub the tip of his cock against your soaked opening. He pushes in and you gasp out, clinging to him as you feel him stretch out your tight walls.
“Fuck.” He gasps out, burying his face into your neck, groaning louder as he pushes fully into you. You moan loudly, dragging your nails over his shoulders as your lips desperately search for his.
“J-Jared.” You whimper out, getting him to lift his head, “What, baby?” He leans up, putting his weight on his elbow as he brushes hair from your face, “You feel so fucking good.”
“Mo-move. Move, please.” You move your hips and he nods, pulling out and sliding back in. His forehead falls into yours as you both let out moans.
His grip on your body tightens and your hand find its way to his hair, tucking at his hair, “Feels so good.” You breathe out, “I love you.”
His hands travel up to find yours. He pins them above your head and deeps his thrusts, “Say it again.” He whispers, “Please.”
You look up at him, lips parted and brows furrowed as you moan out, “I’m so in love with you.” His lips twitch into a smile, “I’m so in love with you.”
He dips his head down, connecting his lips to yours with a fiery embrace.
You clench around him, whimpering against his lips, “I’m so close. So so close.” You rock your hips and he nods, pulling you to sit up, still straddling his lap.
His cock slips back inside of you and you moan, head tilted back as you grind your hips into his. He slides a hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you down to kiss him.
His other hand holds your hip, squeezing as he groans into your mouth, “Fuck. Where do you want me, sweetheart?”
“Fuck,” you whine, “anywhere.”
You dig your nails into his skin and clench around him, curse words and his name rolling off of your tongue loudly,
He lays you down, his thrusts resuming as soon as your back hits the cushions, “You feel so good.” Jared groans in to your neck, “You’re going to make me cum a lot faster than I wanted to.”
You kiss him, biting down on his bottom lip and gently letting it flop back against his teeth, “Good thing we have all night, right?”
He smirks, nodding his head, “Was hoping you’d say that.” He leans down, thrusts growing sloppy as his lips connect with yours.
You cup his cheeks, clenching around him as you help him chase his high, “Feels so good, J.” You whimper out, “cum for me.”
Your words, delicate yet so, so filthy, push him over the edge.
He pulls out, spilling his cum onto your pelvis with a groan. You gently kiss over his cheeks, rubbing a hand through his hair as he comes down.
He plops next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before getting up to grab you a towel, “Do you.. uh, want to shower with me?”
You smile, and despite already getting one, “As long I wake up to you still in my bed in the morning.”
“Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that not happening.” He smiles and holds his hand out, “Come on.”
——
T H E • N E X T • P O D C A S T • E P I S O D E
You sat there, completely soaking up the fact that no one in this room that you and Jared have been seeing each other.
You kept looking over at him and when he’d look at you, you’d look down quick and pretend you were picking lint off your pants or something stupid like that while you fought back a smile.
“Oh! Speaking of Coachella!” Tara says leaning forward, “What was your guys best parts about it?”
They each go around, Tara says music, Zach makes some stupid joke. Alyssa says the music and seeing the outfits.
“I think.. one of my favorite parts about Coachella, was from weekend one.” Jared says and Tara glances at you, “He’s going to say the Lana performance.”
“How did you-“ Zach smiles, his cheeks turning red, “but.. Yeah. That was just.. a really good moment for me.”
You smirk at Tara and take a deep breath, “Jared was one of the best parts about my Coachella.” You look over at him and he smirks, lifting his hands.
“Every time I saw you, I just got so exited.” Jared smiles as he nods. You nod, “It made me excited, you picked me up a few times as just made sure I was okay. It was cute.”
“Yeah.” Jared says with a huge smile, “You said that that thing wasn’t really your style so we all kind of agreed to try and make it as fun for you as it could be.” Jared smiles and you pout, “You do love me.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Zach says, “Anyway-“
“Way to butt in and ruin the mood, Zachary.” You roll your eyes and laugh. Zach gasps, “Oh. Speaking of..” he points to Jared, “What did you think of that Ice Spice performance?”
“Oh my god!” Tara gasps, “I loved it!”
Jared’s mouth falls open and you start laughing because you already know where this is going.
Zach is definitely calling Jared out about it on the podcast, “Dude.. no.” Jared shakes his head and lays his arms out on the desk, “I didn’t know asses could move like that..”
Jared pauses quickly, “It was incredible.”
You cover your mouth and shake your head, “Oh my god.”
“And she’s also an amazing performer..” Jared continue, “I don’t know too much of her music, but..”
Zach tilts his head, looking at Jared, “How did it make you feel watching that thing, um-“ Jared cuts Zach off, “Fucking turned on, what are you talking about?”
Tara laughs, “oh my god.”
You lay your fingers over your lips and all you can do is laugh and shake your head.
“But also like.. amazing..” Jared says and you point, “Wait.. that’s so weird you called me after Ice Spice then.”
Everyone looks to Jared and he has a huge smirk on his face.
“Ooh, Jared. What were you doing?” Alyssa teases and you laugh, “And you’re like hey, are you home? What are you doing tonight, y/n?”
Jared continues to smile, getting slightly nervous, “Umm..” he laughs and you tilt your head, “isn’t it crazy that you did that?”
Jared waves his hands, “I’m.. gonna have to go no comment on that..and then..”
You all laugh and Tara mocks Jared, “He was like, I just watched Ice Spice, y/n what are you doing tonight?” She laughs, “oh my god.”
Zach chimes in, “If you guys did hook up in the dessert, would you speak about it?” You purse your lips and look over at Jared.
He shakes his head slowly and all you can do is giggle.
“I think, y/n would.” Alyssa says and you laugh more. Tara points, “Instead of where did Tara wake up this morning it would be guessing where y/n woke up.” She laughs harder and you shake your head, looking at Jared and he knows exactly what you want to say.
He fights back laughter, “Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”
You laugh, “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking like if we did hook up this past weekend, like would it really be that crazy?”
Instantly Tara leans in, “No.”
Alyssa follows, “I second that.”
“wh-what!?” Jared laughs, “What does that mean?”
“But on a serious note, what would it have taken for it to happen, though, Jared?” Zach asks and Jared smirks, shaking his head, “Not a lot.”
You laugh along with everyone else, until Tara grips your arm, “Wait! No fucking way!”
“Oh, I think she cracked the code.” Jared laughs and you nod, “Yep, give it a second.”
Tara looks between you and Jared and shakes her head, “No, fucking way.” Zach looks so confused, “Why is she tweaking out? Tara I told you, you can’t do that here anymore.”
Tara flicks off Zach, not even looking at him before taking off her headphones and waking away. You look at Jared, “I think we broke her.”
Alyssa gasps, “No! You didn’t!”
“There it is.” Jared laughs and Tara walks back over, “I remember you leaving now, Jared. You sneaky mother fucker.”
“What the- oh shit. Everybody. Jared finally lost his virginity. Let’s all give him a round of applause.” Zach claps and you laugh.
“I hate you sometimes.” Jared says to Zach as he laughs, shaking his head while his face grows redder.
——
I hope this didn’t suck. I haven’t been in the writing mood lately, but as usual, let me know what you thought.
Thank you for reading! Ilysm! 🖤
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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Hiii i love ur crossguild posts so much and i wanna know ur headcanons/thoughts on vampire buggy and crossguild😳🙏 thank u sm ur onepiece posts r like a dose of dopamine and sometimes angst lmao
Hiiii~ 👋I'm happy you like this stuff - it's just as sweet and painful on me so if I go down, I'm taking you bozos with me /j
As for Cross Guild and Vampire Buggy - Oh Boy Have I Got Ideas
Aside from the obvious hilarity that, between the goth, the mafioso, and the bright ass clown, it's the CLOWN who is the vampire.... well. I really love little tidbits about vampire lore and world building so I'm gonna make this a silly lil mix of Vampire Concepts and expanding on Devil Fruit ideas.
It boils down to Devil Fruits being edible deals with the Sea Devil, thus changing their biology undeniably. For zoans, this equates them to smth similar to were-creatures of some kind, bleeding between the lines of their species. For logias, they are more similar to elemental spirits, witches, or some other element based being. ((I love alchemical spirits so I'm leaning to variants or derivatives there bc AAAA)). Paramecias, being the "weaker" of the Fruits, have more... "human-passing" options. It boils down sort of a mind, spirit, body type of thing with zoan, logia, paramecia respectively.
Anyway yeah Buggy's manifests as a form of vampirism. He didn't realize what exactly that was, nor how Devil Fruits work when he first ate it ((He was about 9/10 at most I'd say)). It was only after a meet up and play fight with Whitebeard that the other captain casually asked what Buggy's new side effects are. When nobody understands, he calls over Marco and his other Fruit Eater children because it's time for Devil Fruit crash course and this kid needs an educated adult.
Turns out Buggy's mild anemia was due to his Fruit and his oversensative observation Haki has always impacted all of his senses, so the uptick in smell barely even registered to him. When Whitebeard hears this, he is mildly frothing. He is ultimately assured when Roger chips in there with some of his own observations and even surprised a few people when he wordlessly passes Buggy some of his food as they talk. Bugs scarfs it down like a man starved, swaying happily while Shanks tries to steal more to pile onto the blue hair boy's semi-forgotten plate.
So yeah. Series of weird events for the realization. Very silly.
Come Cross Guild, I think Buggy probably had an entire system there. He's competent all things considered, for a man in a sea of monsters as it were. He just so happens to have a mild sun sensitivity, have sharper canines, have heightened senses and drinks blood. Not the weirdest thing.
Crocodile is vaguely aware of the side effects for paramecia types - Bon Clay often needed reminders of his own sense of self, and he's had others in Baroque Works he worked with. Even Robin had some odd little quirks here and there, well hidden though she kept them. He doesn't recognize Buggy's at first because he hides them and also... doesn't.
It's one of those things where it's known but not really a topic of discussion. Buggy never goes out of his way to hide it. It just Is. The drinks he has all the time? Blood.
Mihawk learns that the hard way lmao.
Actually I'll just make a list of Sillies
• Mihawk once saw Buggy drinking what he thought was red wine, and when the clown set the bottle and glass down to go do something, he snatched it up, gave it a swirl, a sniff, a sip - and immediately paused. Odd, he thinks, placing the bottle back. Odd, but not the oddest thing he has seen.
• Crocodile once dragged Buggy out of bed early one morning for work and made a snide remark about a day not fucking up his fancy skin care routine when Buggy hollered about his sunscreen. ((He did feel guilty later that evening when Buggy was covered in hives and blistered burns. He helped with the aloe and antihistamines that night))
• Mihawk is Fascinated by Buggy's fangs and need to drink blood. He loves trashy paranormal romance, and every time Buggy hisses, or mentions being hungry, or so much as yawns enough to show his fangs, he is Looking Disrespectfully. Straight up Autistic Gaze Meme Eyes.
• Crocodile is also Very Interested but wouldn't be caught DEAD alluding to it. He will side eye from afar.
• some days are harder than most, and when Buggy's clothes get torn or he's low on sun block, Mihawk and Crocodile both will do the shivalrous give-partner-his-jacket/coat thing.
• Buggy makes do mostly with carefully maintained stores of blood in sealed wine bottles and rarely actually bites anyone. Animals aren't common either but he does hunt sometimes. Eventually with Cross Guild rolling in the profits, Crocodile and Mihawk work together to uptick the medical areas and Buggy has access to a far fresher supply.
• post Med Expansion, Buggy can fairly frequently be found skipping along in his typical wear with a blood bag in hand, a corner snipped and a cartoonish swirly straw slipped in. He is THRIVING.
• when outsides hear about vampire allegations, they Immediately think Mihawk, then perhaps Crocodile as a possible second. The hilarity that unfold with the reaction to the truth is never short of insane.
• Buggy actually has only ever bitten a few people in his life. Once, Roger. A few times, Shanks. Once, a nameless, faceless marine in the Wrong Place at the Wrong Time. Once an enemy bigger and stronger who threatened his fledgling little crew. It's odd, the feelings behind it, the sensory input. But eventually, he grows comfortable enough with Mihawk and Crocodile to try, to sink his fangs into flesh and drink from them. It's.... steamy to say the least.
Vampire Buggy my beloved ♡♡♡♡
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arthyghost · 2 days
Text
You managed to escape.
reader x john price
angst, little comfort
Hell? You're sure you know this place very well.
Three years.
Three years that you don’t remember what the sun feels like on your skin;
Three years that everything you loved was taken away from you;
Three years that you no longer know what peace is;
Three fucking years, that looked more like thirty. That looked more like an eternity, that looked more like a vision of hell.
But there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, and your light was when a new recruit made the mistake of feeling mobilized by you; the mistake of letting you feel the sun on your skin, the mistake of looking away from you for five seconds.
You thought you knew what it felt like to have the air taken out of your lungs, but nothing would compare to the feeling you felt when you ran from that van. Nothing would compare to the pain you were feeling in your throat, feeling the cold air by the adrenaline of running with all the force that was still in your body.
When you heard that you were in the city where your base used to be, you knew that would be your only chance. You knew if you didn’t try to run away at that moment, you’d never get a chance to see your friends again. Your family. Him.
So when the rookie let you out just to feel the sun on your skin after you said you hadn’t felt it in years, you ran. You ran through the streets like there was no tomorrow, and you honestly don’t know how he didn’t catch you; maybe he let you get away. The rookie. You secretly hope he’s okay.
You ran through the streets known to you, in the bright sunlight, feeling the tears coming down your cheeks for finally feeling freedom. For finally feeling the warm sun on your skin. Your feet ache with the warm asphalt, without being protected by any kind of footwear.
You turned street by street, sneaking into alleys that you knew were shortcuts, and finally you were there. You didn’t go to base. No, no, no; it was the most likely place for them to look for you, the streets on the way to the base were the first streets they would look for, and you didn’t want to risk it. You didn’t want to feel all that torture for years again.
So, you stopped in front of his door. You dreamed of that day for all the three years that you stayed in hell, but now... Your mind is spinning.
"Will he recognize me?"
"Does he still remember me?"
"What if he’s already moved on?"
Your crying was stuck in your throat, and you were trying to breathe firmly so you wouldn’t start hyperventilating. You knew if you thought more you’d just surrender to them again, then you just knocked on the door. You hit one, two, three times until your beats start to be desperate. You were afraid they’d come back.
Your mind was confused, you would easily surrender to them again if he did not recognize you, but you were so afraid of them finding you.
As millions of thoughts pass through your mind, thoughts you didn’t know how to block, the door is opened.
The door is open and the only thing that predominates now is silence.
You stare at him, downcast. It seems he hasn’t slept in days, he had lost weight, and it looks like he was crying. The beard has grown, the hair is a mess.
Your situation is not much better and you know it. Your long hair that had not been properly washed for years, your loose clothes, which were clearly not your own, stained with blood; your blood. Your face was thin, dirty with dried blood and full of scars. Your dark circles were so deep that your face seemed deeper.
"Hey." you whisper, in an almost inaudible voice, looking at him.
Your voice is sore, and his eyes are full of tears. Yours too.
You finally made it. You made it back home, back to your home.
He is your home, and you have finally returned to him.
i already posted this on tiktok, but i wanted to keep it here too. so that's it: just pain and pain and maybe some comfort. ^^
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