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pellucid-constellations · 4 months

Text

Of Oblivious Minds (2)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst!! More pining and yearning

a/n: Here is part two! I love writing this little series :) There will definitely be more! let me know what you think ♡♡

Part 1, Part 3

Sometimes you hated being a scholar.

There were plenty of upsides to having such a cushy job, especially when your employer was the high lord himself. You got paid generously, got free access to the best libraries, and never had to pay rent. Millions of fae would kill to have your position.

But as Cassian punched you in the ribs—for the third time—you found yourself questioning your role within the night court’s inner circle.

“Okay,” you breathed out, hunching over with a hand cradling your side. “Okay, please, Cass. Can we take a break?”

Unfortunately, Cassian didn’t appreciate quitters. So, your feet were abruptly swept from under you and your back made contact with the floor. With a soft oof, the wind was knocked from your lungs.

“C’mon, y/n, you’re better than that. I know you are.”

You responded with a wheeze, blinking into the pale sun.

This morning had been rough.

You’d been having some trouble sleeping, but that wasn’t necessarily unusual. Being alive for so long meant you had seen quite a few things, so nightmares came and went with the tide. You were going through a rough patch with them at the moment, and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with you.

“You planning on laying there for the rest of the day?” Cassian asked, his large silhouette coming to block the light.

You squinted up at him. “Maybe.”

“Yeah, not happening.”

You fought back a whine as the Illyrian pulled you up by your shoulders and steadied you. He nodded, giving you a moment to ready yourself back into position, and then bent his knees. Gods, you were going to be so sore later.

It didn’t take long for you to end up on the floor again, this time on your stomach. Your chin cracked against the padded ring, your teeth snapping together at the impact. The sound made your brain vibrate as you rolled onto your side and held your temple.

Cassian crouched down to the floor beside you and you could make out his worried brow amidst the shakiness of your vision.

“What’s going on with you?” He brought his hand up to brush against your already bruising jaw. “We’ve been working on that move for weeks. You had it a few days ago.”

You breathed through your nose and tried not to groan at the ache rolling through your body. “I think I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

At that, Cassian plopped down to a seat, keeping a hand at your elbow as you brought your own body up to mirror his.

“You want to talk about it?” he questioned.

“There isn’t much to say. I can’t remember them this time. It’s kind of strange—usually I remember them too much and that’s what makes it worse.”

Cassian hummed in contemplation. He was always the one you went to the morning after a sleepless night. Cassian would listen as you talked through your nightmares, and you would do the same for him. He was a logical pillar in your life.

But it was always Azriel you went to in the midst of them. You never talked about what you saw and he never asked. But it was always Azriel in the middle of the night. His shadows were a comfort in the pitch black and he was always quick to wrap his wings around you when it became too hard to breathe.

You hadn’t gone to him these last few times.

The fact that you couldn’t remember your dreams was an unfortunate factor. Because if you knew what was causing you to wake up in a cold sweat every night, at least then you could talk about it. Or take a moment to rationalize.

There was no rationalizing when the only thing you had to go off of was fear and hurt.

“What does Azriel think?” Cassian asked after a small lapse in silence.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when you go to his room at night. What does he have to say about you not remembering?”

You scoffed. And then scoffed again. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I barely do that.”

Cassian stared at you with a blank expression. “So we’re still doing that then. Got it.” He heaved himself up from the ground and then yanked you up alongside him.

“Still doing what?” you asked, trailing behind him as he reached for his canteen. He didn’t answer you, favoring the long gulps of water he was taking. You waited for him to finish and then asked again. He chose to unwrap his knuckles instead. “Cassian.”

The man sighed. “Nothing, y/n. It’s just… It wasn’t a secret that you would go to his room after you had a rough night. Why do you think I never dragged you out here those mornings?” You cringed at his words. He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Why do you hide it?”

You didn’t have a good reason—well, you didn’t used to. You’d always sneak out of his room after the sun rose and never bring it up again. And there was never a solid explanation for why you evaded the topic. You knew Azriel would never hold it against you and you weren’t embarrassed for others to know that you sought out comfort in a friend. It just seemed like something you should keep to yourself.

Now, though—now there was a good reason to wipe your actions from memory. To pretend they never happened and to never repeat them.

“Cassian, Elain is my friend. Even if I did that in the past—in a friendly way—it would be wrong now.”

A muscle in Cassian’s jaw twitched. “Right. Have you ever actually talked to Elain about her feelings?”

“I don’t need to.” You reached down for your own water, ignoring the twinge in your side and the pulsing in your head. “She never stops talking about him. And they’re always together. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already seeing each other.”

“Who’s seeing each other?”

The cool tone of Azriel’s voice washed over you and you whipped around to find him standing at the foot of the training ring, blades in hand.

A nervous laugh fell from your lips and you fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. “Um, no one, just some friends I know.”

“Who?” he asked again.

“Oh, you don’t know them. Old friends.”

The Shadowsinger raised a brow, sending Cassian a fleeting look. “I thought I knew all of your friends.”

“You don’t. I know way more people than you. Even though you're older than me. Not by that much, though. Have you talked to Elain lately?” Words were spewing from your mouth in the worst combinations. You were never nervous around Azriel. What in the cauldron was wrong with you?

Azriel’s raised brow turned into a furrowed one and he blinked, assessing your face with a scrutinizing gaze. “Do you have a concussion?” He turned the Cassian, expression going from confused to provoked. “Did you give her a concussion?”

“Honestly, maybe.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” you rushed out, cutting off Cassian’s admission. “I was just leaving though. I’m tired. You guys can fight each other.”

There was so much sudden pent-up energy inside of you that you had no intention of sleeping, but just seeing Azriel made you feel like you were intruding on something. Which was absurd. Azriel was your friend and had been your friend for centuries. Just because he loved Elain didn’t mean you had to avoid him.

But this energy had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere was telling you to avoid him like the Illyrian flu.

Making a break for it, you freed yourself from the training ring and attempted to skate past Azriel with a quick side smile, but he apparently had other plans. He caught your wrist as you walked past, glancing up at a “preoccupied” Cassian before turning to you with his wing out, giving the illusion of a private conversation.

“You’re not sleeping well?” he asked, voice low.

You warped your smile into one that met both sides of your mouth. “I’m okay.”

Shadows crept over his shoulders and along his ears. His expression shifted and pinched and then returned neutral. “You know you can come to me if you need it.”

“I’m okay, Az. Really.”

“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”

Maybe before.

“I’m a paper pusher, Az. I’m not out in the throes of battle,” you jested, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “Nothing is that serious for me.”

A lie. Something was that serious—serious enough to keep you up at night for the past week—but you couldn’t figure out what it was.

“That is not what I asked,” he countered, sliding his hand up from your wrist to turn your chin. “You need to ice your jaw. Cassian shouldn’t be so rough with you.”

“I’m okay,” you said again, words a pathetic repetition because your heart was beating so fast now and you needed to leave. Something was pulling at your chest and you needed to leave.

“As you’ve said,” Azriel muttered, his fingers brushing down along the column of your throat. When his eyes flickered up and met your own, something inside of you lost its alignment.

You looked away before the feeling could return. Everything righted itself. You took a wobbly step back.

“Have a good training session.”

You turned on your heel and stalked away, feeling equal parts the betrayer and the betrayed.

“You mean that girl off-continent? The one from a century ago?”

Cassian hummed. “Yeah, her. What I wouldn’t give for a visit from her.”

“You’re a pig,” Mor replied, a scoff sharp on her lips.

“She didn’t think so.”

You were eavesdropping. You didn’t like to, but somehow, in the time you’d spent in the inner circle, you’d picked up the habit. Oops.

Technically, you weren’t really eavesdropping. You had been in the room first. It wasn’t your fault Cassian and Mor decided to speak very loudly with only a few shelves separating you. If they wanted privacy they should have checked the area.

“Is it that hard for you to get laid? You have to search off-continent?”

Cassian’s responding laugh was almost defensive. “I’m sure you’d love to know about my sex life.”

“I really wouldn’t, actually. You brought it up.” Mor paused. You heard her shift on the lounge chair. “I am, however, interested in Azriel’s.”

“Aren’t we all,” Cassian droned. “Pretty obvious that he doesn't have one at the moment. Hasn’t had one in a while.”

You felt your neck jolt at the reveal of that information. Azriel always kept his partners discrete, but you’d always known he’d had them. Many of them. You had no idea who they were or where he met them, but you would hear the girls occasionally... smell their perfume on a few rare nights.

“You think? This whole time?” Mor asked, curiosity raising her voice an octave.

“Mor, I think the sight of other females makes him want to vomit.”

The book in your lap was all but obsolete.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

Cassian tsked. “I’m not. He’s told me.”

“I suppose that’s what having a mate does to a person.”

Your fingers became abnormally cold, the center of your chest caving slightly.

Azriel had a mate? No, he would have told you.

He would have told you.

Mor’s sweet voice slammed against your ears, harsh despite its nature. “Do you think he’ll tell her soon?”

Cassian’s reply had you standing on shaking knees. “Hope so. He’s so in love with her it's suffocating. You should see when—”

You were out of the room in a wisp, sliding out the small back door. The book you’d been reading was still clutched in your frozen grip and you held it against your chest as breathing became impossible. With a hand pressed to the wall and your head hung low, you sucked in air, greedy for some type of reprieve.

You were happy for him. You were so, so happy for him.

Right?

The book fell from your grip, clattering to the floor. The pages collapsed in on themselves as it fell face down, and you listened to the paper crumple as your throat closed. Both hands now pressed to the cold wall. Why were you freezing?

This made sense. It made sense.

Of course Azriel had a mate and of course it was… Elain?

No, it couldn’t be Elain. Elain was Lucien’s mate.

Now you were confused as well as consumed. Your body was left aching from training and your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t even understand why you were reacting the way you were.

It was completely plausible that Azriel had a mate and didn’t tell anyone about it. He was a private male who kept his lovers to himself, so of course he would keep his mate to himself as well. But he did tell someone about it. He told Cassian. And Mor knew.

Your fingernails dug into stone.

Azriel didn’t love you.

The thought came on so suddenly that you almost looked over your shoulder. It was as if the words had been whispered in your ear by some cruel, vicious wind.

You had never cared if Azriel loved you before, because you knew that he did love you. Like a sister. You were Azriel’s family and he was yours.

But as the thought of Azriel having a mate invaded your mind once more, your shaky legs propelled you forward, running from the creased book and the hallway that contained all of the worst things.

You ran until you couldn't, until your toes hit the edge of the balcony on the far side of the house and the cool air of winter hit your cheeks. You had been so cold inside, but somehow the breeze felt even colder across your skin.

“Y/n?”

You gasped, whipping around and gripping the railing as it pressed into your spine. You couldn’t formulate words as Azriel stood before you. His hands raised up to his waist, reaching for you as he took in the way your chest heaved.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he rushed.

You only shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Embarrassment and confusion and a twisted sort of fear coursed through you. You couldn't look at him, afraid you would somehow see the bond connected to his chest—somehow notice things about him you hadn’t before. Maybe another shade of hazel in his eyes or a softness to his lips that you had never looked for.

As you considered it now, it was obvious that you’d never let yourself look.

Azriel was never supposed to be yours.

“Talk to me, angel.” Azriel’s sweet whisper brushed against your skin. He was so close to you. You could feel him, but you refused to look.

To see how everything had changed.

“Let me fix it.”

You heard the rush of wind from his wings as he expanded them outwards, followed closely behind by the whirling of his shadows, and it all clicked then.

The images came quickly, dissipating just as fast. But they did their job, sending heavy, hot tears past the tight scrunch of your eyelids.

Azriel with Elain. Azriel with Mor. Azriel with random, faceless women.

Him, in every iteration, with everyone that wasn’t you.

That’s what had kept you up—the dreams plaguing your every resting moment. And you realized then that nothing had really changed at all. That you’d been in love with Azriel for longer than you’d been in love with anything.

Your jaw trembled, your body rejecting the anguish that swept through you. Wind softly flowed from the west, swaying your skirts with a gentleness that made your breath shudder. That kind of gentleness was impossible. The world felt so cruel.

“Y/n, tell me what happened. Should I get someone else?” Azriel pleaded. “Should I get Rhys?”

Rhys could knock you out, and that would surely be a relief. You felt paralyzed by this overwhelming array of devastation. But Rhys would also have access to your thoughts.

You shook your head. “No,” you said, but the word was lost in the wind. Azriel seemed to hear it anyway. “No, I want—I need to—go to sleep.”

“You need to go to sleep?” He touched you now, something he seemed to have been avoiding. His hands came to rest behind your neck, thumbs at your jaw, and you pried your eyes open at the contact. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so ruined, his hair askew, his eyes wild and panicked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

His expression was beseeching you for something you couldn’t give him. You hiccuped your next words out.

“I’m—’m tired.”

You wished you’d stayed oblivious. That you had never become privy to the depth of your feelings.

This pain was immeasurable.

#azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel angst #azriel fanfic

3K notes · View notes

python333 · 8 months

Note

your writing is literally the best in the cod fandom. we need more injured reader angst. it's too good

don't breathe — python333

— — — —

synopsis [reader] gets buried alive after refusing to give intel to enemy soldiers and *slips up and writes reader almost dying again* oops how did that happen haha

relationships platonic!price & gn!reader.

characters cap. john price.

word count 2.7k

warnings suffocation [reader], just generally really depressing thoughts, near death??, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note aww tysm :(( dont say its the best im gonna get a complex LMAO but i appreciate it!! and yes i agree injured reader angst ftw :3 i present to you: reader gets very injured and theres a lot of angst and its basically just you suffering for a good 3/4 of the fic while the last quarter has the actual comfort!

“Hello?” You try again, your voice cracking and your tone as desperate as it can get, “Please, God, say someone can hear me.”

You’ve been trapped in a casket for about five minutes now—at least, you woke up five minutes ago. God knows how long you’ve been stuck in the stupid thing, but realistically, it’s probably been much longer than five minutes.

The last thing you remember from before you were buried is being in the interrogation room of some small terrorist group’s facility, one you and the others were led to believe was abandoned weeks ago.

Unfortunately, whoever gave you the information must’ve either had incredibly outdated information or was setting you all up for failure, because the facility was very much not abandoned and was instead full of enemy soldiers.

You all had already gotten into the building before you knew that, because of course you all had to be in the same spot at the same time—practically sitting ducks for the enemy—and of course you all had to be clueless about the possibly hundreds of people in the facility until it was too late.

As far as you know, everyone managed to escape. Everyone but you. They didn’t mean to leave you behind, of course they didn’t, they were more focused on just booking it out of the facility. However, because of that, you were now stuck—you assume—several feet underground in a casket that has a limited amount of oxygen that drops every time you take a breath.

You let out the breath you’re currently holding and suck in another deep breath, holding it as you think. Your strategy of holding your breath until you no longer could mostly worked, but it wouldn’t for long, you knew that soon you’d suffocate in all of the carbon dioxide gathering in the enclosed casket.

You don’t know how long you’d been unconscious in the casket, breathing in oxygen carelessly in your slumber, which made the whole situation worse. You didn’t even know how much time you had left.

You hate to waste your breath checking your comms, but the enemy soldiers had accidentally left your earpiece in your ear—the small device apparently going undetected under their radar—and you wanted to make the most of it. You move your arm from your side and press onto the PTT button on your earpiece, wincing a little at how cramped the casket was.

“Does anybody copy?” You ask again, staring up at the almost pitch black space above you, “I repeat, does anybody copy?”

It’s a vain attempt at contacting your team, really. You don’t know if they’re thinking about you, if the signal is going through, if they even have their earpieces on—you know nothing, and that terrifies you because you really don’t want to die right now but there’s literally nothing else you can do besides helplessly talk into your earpiece, not knowing if anyone’s listening.

Your lungs start to burn and you let out the breath you were holding, taking another deep breath and beginning to hold that one. The air feels… thick. It’s starting to get harder to breathe, and you know you shouldn’t panic but you can’t help the few worried thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind.

What am I going to do when I run out of oxygen and the only thing left for me to breathe in are my own discarded breaths? What will I do when all there is to do is suffocate? Am I going to try, in one last desperate attempt, to break out of the casket, or am I going to just lay here and die? Will my team try to find me, or will they forget about me? Have they already forgotten about me?

Before you can listen to any more of those depressing thoughts, a voice comes from your earpiece.

“H—lo? [c/n]?” It’s hard to tell with the static and the cuts in between the words, but you think it’s Price talking.

“Price?” You ask immediately, all thoughts of preserving your breath forgotten. “Holy shit, you can hear me?”

“Je—s— whe—e—” He cuts out for a moment and your stomach drops when all you can hear is static for a moment.

“You’re— You’re cutting out, Captain, what did you say?”

“Wher— —re you?” It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying, your mind working much slower than it usually does, but once you do you shake your head negatively despite him not being there to see you.

“I don’t— I don’t know,” You respond, taking a deep breath before adding on, “I think I’m underground, I just know I’m in a casket and it’s getting harder to breathe and—”

“Okay, o—y,” You hear Price’s voice crackle, his voice becoming more distant and sounding almost muffled to you, “Sa— —ur bre—th, I’ll try to g—t some—e to track your— —tion.”

With the constant cutting out of his words and the distortion of his tone, you can barely register or process what he’s saying, and that only panics you more but you refuse to let your emotions get the better of you even in the state of disorientation you’re in, so you keep holding your breath.

A minute later, Price’s voice crackles through your earpiece again.

“Okay, we’ve got your loc—tion,” Price’s voice sounds… oddly far away, “We can—”

His voice slowly becomes muffled, and you release the breath you were holding without realizing it, slowly blinking up at the ceiling of the casket. A sort of haze falls over your mind and you can barely even hear Price anymore before you suddenly snap back to reality and hear his now much clearer voice loud in your ear.

“[c/n]? [c/n], are you still there?” You recognize his tone now, and you’re just a little shocked at the sheer amount of worry in it.

“Haven’t moved an inch,” You breathe out, before lying, “You cut out for a second for me, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, “I said we got your loc—tion and we’re hea—g out th— —w. It’s not t— far away from where —e alre—dy are, we’re ba—ely three clicks away.”

“… Clicks?” You ask, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Yes, clicks,” Price replies, sounding concerned, before hesitantly asking, “… You know what those are, right?”

“I don’t—” You struggle to find words for a moment before you speak again, your own voice starting to sound distant, “I don’t think so?”

“What do y—u mean you don’t thi— —o?” Price asks, his voice sounding freakishly close, “Are you okay?”

“No, yeah, I’m fine,” You lie through your teeth, not wanting to worry Price further, “I just… how far away are you?”

“Just ab—t two cli—ks now,” Price says, before pausing and clarifying, “Two kilometers.”

Two kilometers… how far is that? “And that’s… is that far, or?”

“No, it’s not too far. It’s just a mi—te away, we didn’t ge— —o far before Laswell got your loc—tion,” Price tells you, “We’ll be there soon, ok—y? We’ll get y— —ut of there.”

“A minute—” You cough and feel tears pricking at your eyes from how hard it is to take another breath, “A minute?”

“Yes, a minute— [c/n], are you okay?” Price asks again, before laughing nervously, “You know what a minute is, do— —ou?”

“...” You struggle to answer the question, thinking long and hard for a few seconds before hesitantly answering, “… Yeah, I do, sorry. It’s sixty seconds.”

“Why’d it take you so long to answer?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry, I—” You take a few shallow breaths, and feel a headache start to build up, “How far away are you guys?”

“We’re alm—t there,” Price promises you, “The heli’s ab—t to l—nd, and we’ll dig you up, and—”

Why is it so cold? Price’s voice cuts off and when he stops talking you realize that you’re shivering. You ball your fists up and can’t even feel your nails digging into your palms, your hands having gone numb from the cold, and realizing that makes you discover that your lips feel numb too.

Your ears start to ring and you feel that uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in your hands, the sensation slowly traveling up your arms, making you both wanting to peel off your own skin and also grateful that you can at least feel something besides the cold.

In the midst of your thinking, you hear muffled thumping coming from above you—whoever buried you couldn’t have buried you anything below six feet.

“—llo? [c/n]? Are you still there?”

You bring your hand up, the movement slow and sluggish, and you try to search around the side of your face for your earpiece. You eventually find it and when you do you press against it until you feel the PTT button being pushed.

“Still here,” You confirm breathlessly, coughing again as you take a few more shallow breaths, “I think I’m running out of— of… what’s the fuckin’ air that you can breath in, it starts with an o…”

“… Oxygen?”

“Oxygen, yeah,” You slowly blink up at the ceiling of the casket, “There’s— I think— I don’t… I think… I think I’m gonna pass out, Captain.”

“[c/n], don’t you fucking dare,” Price growls, “You stay awake, I swear to fucking god.”

“I can’t—” You take a few more shallow breaths, before coughing, the tears escaping your eyes reaching the corners of your mouth.

You can hear Price briefly talk with someone else, his voice the most serious you’ve ever heard it, before he talks directly to you again, “How much longer do you think you have before you run out of oxygen?”

It takes you a moment to register the question, but when you do, you answer, “Uh… I don’t— I think… maybe a few more minutes? I can’t tell, it’s just hard to breathe, I can’t…”

“Okay, okay,” Price softly says, gusts of wind blowing into his mic as he talks, “Give me a second, okay? We’re almost there, kid, we’ll— we’ll be there in just a minute, we just passed over you, I just need you to stay awake.”

“In a minute,” You repeat to yourself, before taking a deep breath, hoping that you have enough oxygen to make it out of this casket because you really don’t want to die here, not when there’s help just a minute away.

After what you assume is a minute or two, instead of thumping, you hear something cut into the dirt above you. The sound, however, is heavily muffled, so muffled to the point where you don’t know if you’re hallucinating or not.

Is that a symptom of CO2 poisoning? Hallucinations? You lay still in the casket and can’t help but release the breath you’d only just taken, the ringing in your ears starting up again and growing louder faster than they had before.

Your entire body is numb, your chest is heavy, and you can feel a sort of fog fall over your mind. You can distantly hear Price yelling through your earpiece, but you can’t find it in yourself to respond, instead simply laying there, your blinking starting to slow down before it eventually stops, leaving your eyes closed.

—

For a moment, you think you died and went to heaven, which would be weird, considering all the things you’ve done in your life. Not saying you’d go to hell, just saying God would probably hesitate for a second before letting you in through the pearly gates.

You blink awake, slowly but surely, and the first thing you realize is that you can feel things again. You tilt your head down to the bump under the white bed sheets laid on top of you, and squeeze your hand into a ball, watching the bump move and feeling your fingers dig into your oddly sore palms.

You let out a sigh of relief and pull your hand out from the sheets, bringing it up to your face and feeling the oxygen mask that’s been placed over your mouth and nose.

“Don’t mess with that,” You hear a voice say to your right. You turn your head and see a very tired Captain Price, dark eyebags hanging under his eyes and arms crossed, his hands having a white knuckle grip on either one of his elbows.

“…” You don’t say anything, instead you simply stare at him until he sighs and gets up from his seat. You watch silently as he leans over your bed and bends down, before pausing, and then quickly snaking his hands under your back to pull you up just enough for him to properly hug you.

You reach up with shaky hands and tentatively hug him back, not nearly as tightly—not that you don’t want to, but you physically can’t with how weak your arms are right now—but with just as much sincere affection. You can feel Price’s beard rubbing against your neck and hear his small sniffles as he embraces you tightly.

Maybe it’s his sniffling, or the way you can finally feel warmth for the first time in what feels like forever, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s holding you with so much care and affection that it almost makes you burst at the seams, whatever it is, it causes you to tear up as well.

Those tears quickly become sobs that bubble up in your throat and crawl their way out of it, forcing you to tuck your head into the crook of Price’s neck and muffle your sobs in it, muttering a small ‘sorry’ after each one.

After each ‘sorry’, Price responds with, “It’s okay, let it out, sweetheart, you’re okay,” and those reassuring words only make you cry more because God, you didn’t even think he’d find you, yet here he is, letting you cry into his neck and is reassuring you after every apology that it’s okay.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” You mumble a litany of apologies into Price’s neck, your breath stuttering and hitching as you try to hold back your sobs. Price only shushes you and rubs his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture, bringing his head up to kiss the top of your head.

He tucks your head under his chin, “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And fuck, you know it’s just words, but it only makes you cry more.

Your sobs eventually stop, leaving you hiccuping against Price’s neck, silently crying as he continues to rub your back.

“I thought you died,” He whispers, his hand stuttering on your back, “I thought you died and I was going to dig up your dead body, when you didn’t answer me.”

You stay silent, letting him continue, “I thought you were dead when we dug you up and needed to feel your heartbeat for myself to confirm that you were still alive.”

He pauses for a moment before continuing, “I’ve been here ever since they put you in here. I haven’t slept, I’ve just stayed here, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you that I—”

He chokes up for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I’m sorry for not even thinking to drag you out of the facility with me when we all ran out. You were— you were right there, and I couldn’t just grab your arm and take you with me, I just had to leave you behind and I—”

“You watched me while I was asleep?” You ask quietly, your eyebrows drawing together.

Price pauses and pulls his chin off of your head, and pulls you away from his neck so he can properly give you the most incredulous look he can pull, before saying, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and apologizing for practically leaving you for dead, and that’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well, I’m not worried, I’m just—” You shrug, not knowing how to explain it. Price sighs and chuckles quietly before tucking your head back under his chin.

“You’re insufferable,” He mumbles, sniffling a bit.

“… I forgive you, by the way,” You say after a moment of silence, “I didn’t really blame you in the first place.”

“You had the right to.”

“Sure I did.”

“But you didn’t blame me.”

“Right.” “…” Price stays silent for a moment before pressing another soft kiss to the top of your head and saying quietly, “You should blame me.”

“Maybe,” You mumble back, “But I won’t.”

Later, maybe an hour later, if the others see you asleep in Price’s arms while he keeps your head tucked under his chin and rubs your back affectionately—no they don’t.

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cocteaucherry · 3 months

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another silly gojo thing I wrote with pregnant reader (I was inspired by Kali’s pregnancy announcement 🩷)

a/n- (I promise pt 3 of LTLM is coming out later today or tomorrow)

cw- pregnancy, talks of sexual situations, gojo being gojo :p

The day Satoru found out you were pregnant was a day you’ll never forget.

It was a freezing morning in January and you had just finished taking down the Christmas decorations (yeah it was a few weeks after Christmas but you both were lazy) you let out a huff wiping your hands as you stared at the old cardboard boxes that housed the glittery decorations, it made you feel more emotional than usual seeing yet another year pass.

You heard the door burst open and you turned to find your husband dragging in a bunch of wires and lights, “ six hundred twinkling lights taken down by your one and only!” He exclaimed, dropping the lights and using his foot to close the door, “you sure? I could’ve sworn I heard you on the verge of using Hollow Purple.” You said playfully as you gazed lovingly at your husband.

“What?! No! I was of course gonna take you out of the house first!” The blue eyed male chuckled as he walked towards you immediately wrapping his arms around your waist, “I think I deserve a kiss for my bravery and perseverance.” He hummed his hands running over the slight pudge in your stomach, “Do you really?” You peered up at his face to be met with a very shocked expression, you chuckled nervously staring at his over exaggerated face.

Gojo could tell something was off for the past few days, frequent bathroom trips, slight nausea in the morning and your missed period. (He might be the strongest but he’s not the smartest) and now your cursed energy was changing he sensed it when he walked in it was almost doubled. “I mean this is the BEST way possible, let me stress BEST, are you somehow maybe- just a little bit ermm.. pregnant?”

Your mind went blank at the question, “Maybe?” You shrugged your shoulders, “it would make sense..” your mind tried to calculate the last time you and Gojo were intimate but Gojo calculated for you, “Christmas.” He said his mouth was still wide open, “yeah , maybe wrapping myself like a present wasn’t the best idea.” You giggled and Satoru was quick to retort with a red face, “you practically had nothing on! You can’t blame me!” Gojo pouted, rubbing the back of his neck, “can we go buy some tests to confirm your theory?”

About seven tests later it was confirmed, you were pregnant.

Of course tears and hugs were shared and you wanted to share the news with your friends but Gojo stopped you claiming he wanted to see how long you both could go unnoticed, he also opted to buy a camcorder to track your happy moments. It was more of a nostalgia thing. (Even while you're pregnant he’s still dramatic.)

By the time you were breaching your second trimester a lot of things changed, for worse and better, the spare room in your house was converted into a full baby room, all constructed by gojo himself since he was terrified of you getting injured. The baby room was filled with expensive baby materials and toys, “Satoru.. are you sure this isn’t too much?” You stared at the room in disbelief, your hand stroking your bump, He grunted, placing a heavy box with more materials down, “What? Think I can go bigger?” He winked and opened the package.

“We don’t even know the gender yet? you yelled walking down the hallway to lay down.

Everyone in Satoru’s life knew something was up, he walked with more pep in his step and glowed even more than he already was.

“So does anyone know what’s up with Gojo-sensei?” Yuji questioned sitting on his bed, Kugusaki and Megumi on the floor visibly not listening. “Don’t know, don’t really care either.” Megumi deadpanned which earned a grin from Kugisaki, “Not sure Yuuji, have you tried asking his wife?” she asked, peering from her phone. “She hasn’t been around here in like months!” The pink haired boy exclaimed failing to connect the dots but Megumi did for him.

“Maybe she’s expecting.” He shrugged it off going back to type on his phone, “What?! You mean they-they-“ yuuji stuttered.

“Yuuji they are adults, plus it would make sense right after the holidays too. So she’d be about.."Kugisaki counted in her head, “second trimester?”

“You guys are taking this a little too well?!” Yuuji exclaimed, “oh Kugisaki and I made our own theory a few weeks ago-“

“And you didn’t tell me?!-“

Later that day you had a teary eyed pink haired teenager yapping at the door about how you didn’t tell him sooner.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu x reader #x reader #jjk imagines #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #satorugojo #pregnancy #pregnant reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 28 days

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Bluebird — Azriel x Reader — Part VIII

Hey! Sorry for the wait on this one, it’s a big one and took me longer than I anticipated! I haven’t had the chance to properly proofread so sorry for any mistakes! Hope you enjoy all the same 💕

Summary: Forced to go on the road with her father, Reader gets a rude awakening that starts to play on her mind. But Azriel’s not willing to let go so easily.

Click here to be added to the Bluebird taglist! Please remember to check your settings and make sure you can be tagged! 💕

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: Pretty gruesome descriptions of violence and injury. Masturbation. Nsfw, 18+, minors dni!

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The curtains were drawn.

To superior fae sight, nothing lay behind them besides darkness. Not even the flickering of a candle.

Azriel waited. And waited, and waited. His eyes did not once stray from the window, and hope burned fierce in him that those curtains would suddenly part, that a beautiful human face would appear that made his heart race and his skin feel too taut on his bones.

The fabric didn’t even twitch.

He knew, after a couple of hours, that he would not be seeing his Bluebird tonight. He tried not to feel too disappointed as he flew back towards the wall, the comfort of the fae realm. Such was the nature of their…relationship. It was clandestine and risky, and sometimes things would come up. Sometimes, one or both of them would be unavailable.

But as he stripped off his leathers and fell into his huge bed, he couldn’t tear his thoughts from her. Thoughts of where she was, what she was doing, what had rendered her unavailable to meet — whether she was safe.

Too many thoughts like that would do him no good. Would only worsen this…this alien sensation, of needing her with him all the time. Needing to have her in sight. Needing to have her at all.

He could only pray to the Mother that the next week pedalled on fast.

That he’d see his Bluebird soon.

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It had been the most uncomfortable day of your life.

A monotonous day on horseback, one landscape blurring into another. The village you were travelling to seemed like worlds away — and the journey was only made worse by the sticky summer heat, and the fact that you rode with Devin, slotted between the tight press of his muscled thighs.

Still, you were unflinching in your resolve that while you may not have been able to wriggle out of sharing a horse with him, you weren’t going to talk to him, no matter how much he tried to ply you with conversation.

It was his fault you had to come on this trip in the first damn place.

You tried your hardest to while away the time by sinking into your thoughts. It seemed that with each hour that passed, those thoughts became more vibrant, more longing. Thoughts of you, Azriel, a wildflower meadow. The ability to just…be in each other’s arms.

The ability to kiss him. Touch him.

Those thoughts didn’t help at all. It was an effort to keep them at bay, lest you make the ride even more uncomfortable.

But eventually — thankfully — you and your father’s group had arrived in the target village, just as the sun had been setting. News of your father’s cause had spread wide enough that it seemed his presence was expected. And very much welcomed.

You’d been ushered into the village tavern and supplied with more food and drinks than any of you needed. The feast kept you occupied while your father was absent awhile, apparently visiting a few villagers he was familiar with. And when he’d returned, it was there, that evening, nestled at the very back of the old, crumbling building, that you’d watched your his passionate presentation.

You’d heard the words spoken numerous times, of course. To his friends, and to anyone at the Bluebird Inn who would listen. But this was more than just a speech. This was an entire damn performance.

And it surprised you, how uncomfortable it made you to watch.

For all your father was quiet, brooding, sometimes soft-spoken, he commanded the tavern with a voice louder than you’d ever heard come out of him. His cheeks had grown ruddier as his own words riled him up. Spittle accompanied the angered, venomous words that left his mouth.

And it was all you could do to watch, your dinner feeling leaden in your stomach as you listened to the words — listened to him reel off a list of people he, personally, had met, who had suffered at the hands of the fae. As he told the story of your mother’s brutal death, and the details formed a lump in your throat, never lessening in impact. As he presented his ideas, his plans, in a way that was so refined, so expert, that it almost had you considering that they were the best course of action.

But you knew Azriel. You knew Azriel. These faeries that your father raged about were not his brethren. Azriel himself would abhor their actions.

You repeated that to yourself in your head, like a chant. Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.

Two whole hours, you had to sit there and listen to your father talk about frightening creatures who stole babies from their bassinets, who brutalised young girls, who tore families apart. Two whole hours, and your muscles were stiff and aching. Your head throbbing. Your body and mind desperate for the oblivion of sleep. A respite away from the pang in your gut.

Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.

The sight of your father and his men traipsing around the room with rolls of parchment and gathering signatures was a relief — only because you knew this would soon be over.

You sighed softly to yourself, slumping back in your chair and absentmindedly rubbing a hand over your stomach. As though it would somehow ease the complicated feelings that twisted it so violently.

“Impactful.” The chair beside you was pulled out, and Devin lowered himself into it. “Don’t you think?”

You gave the slightest dip of your chin. Couldn’t deny that your father had a way with words.

Devin pursed his lips, his eyes skating over you. “We have a long ride home, Y/N. Are you going to ignore me the whole way back, too?”

“Yes,” you hissed. “Because you had no right to talk to my father on my behalf.”

He folded his arms, appearing unflinching and unbothered by what he’d done. You may have thought he was in the wrong, but he certainly didn’t.

“I did so out of concern for you,” he replied. “Because what you said about the fae was wrong. None of them are good. The sooner you see that, the better.”

You bit inside of your cheek, simply to prevent yourself from arguing. But gods, you wanted to contest the statement. You wished you could tell him that you had cold, hard, beautiful evidence that he was wrong.

But doing so would only make things worse for you.

So you merely folded your own arms, and focused your gaze on the men weaving in and out of tables, gathering signatures, clapping supporters on the back and parting with well wishes. You stared and stared until the sight of them blurred.

And then Devin said, “You haven’t been yourself recently.”

You whipped your head around to look at him — gape at him. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“I know you were acting shifty as fuck the night I came to check on you during the Summer Festival. You couldn’t get rid of me quick enough. I’d be forgiven for thinking you had someone there with you.”

“Who would I possibly have at my house?” you narrowed your eyes. “I’m not allowed to make friends, to form connections.”

His gaze softened. “I’m your friend.”

It wasn’t that long ago that you’d fantasised about him being more than that. He’d seemed so incredible, so gallant — a young man who could sweep you off your feet, and protect you while he guarded an entire village. You’d wondered if there was ever any likelihood of him being drawn to you, instead of one of the many other beautiful girls within proximity. You’d wanted to impress him.

Now, you just wanted him out of your fucking sight before you said something that would land you in more shit.

“You—”

The tavern’s front door flung open, hard enough to slam against the wall, abruptly severing your sentence.

All fell still and silent as every face looked up to take in the man who entered. Hair ripped from the knot at the back of his neck, and he was drenched in sweat, clothes rumpled and—

And saturated with blood.

There was a beat, and then everyone who crowded the small space appeared to collectively clock what they were seeing. A wave of gasps rippled through the room like a breeze.

“I—” the man’s eyes immediately landed on your father, as though it were him he searched for. “I tried to do something, but I was too late. I couldn’t—”

“What has happened?” Your father strode forward.

“I was too late,” he repeated. “I…I think you need to see this.”

Just like that, every member of your group was readying themselves to leave — to throw themselves straight into the unknown. Devin, too, rose.

But your father was wrenching round to face them, shaking his head. “I’ll take only a couple of you with me. The rest of you should stay here until I send word,” he angled himself towards your table. “Devin, Y/N — you’ll join me.”

“Me?” Your eyes widened. Granted, you didn’t know what, exactly, you’d be facing, but one look at the blood-drenched man at the entrance told you it was bad. You didn’t know nearly enough about fighting, or defending, or healing—

“Yes.” Your father’s tone brooked no room for argument. “You.”

There was no chance to protest as you were yanked out of your seat by Devin and pulled along with him while your father headed out of the door. Your heart raced in your chest as Devin helped you up onto his horse, and you were lurched into action.

All you could think was that you wished — so badly wished — to be back in the safety of the Bluebird Inn. And Azriel’s arms.

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You didn’t travel far. A few dirty, dusty roads brought you straight to a house that was mostly unassuming, no different to the houses in your village.

But the similarities stopped at the first scream that ripped through the night and had you violently flinching, had the horses panicking.

Devin dismounted with ease and promptly lifted you off, setting you on your feet at the exact same moment another scream sounded, thinning out into a strangled sob.

“Come.” Your father beckoned to you as Devin made quick work of tying the horses up.

But you couldn’t get your feet to move. You stayed firmly rooted to the spot as you shook your head. “I can’t go in there.”

“You can and you will,” he beckoned again. “Don’t let me down.”

With him in front of you and Devin now at your back, you felt you had no choice but to follow. The man that had burst into the tavern held the front door open, increasing the volume of what now seemed to be wailing sobs.

“I’ve heard of your cause,” he said quietly as your father stepped in first. “Which is why I think you should see this. So you can report back firsthand to the Queens.”

The entryway was just light enough to catch the incline of your father’s head. He said nothing as you were led through—

You stopped dead in the doorway of what seemed to be a dining room. So abruptly that Devin’s front collided with your back.

“Her name is — was — Dahlia.” The man inched towards the table, balling his fists at his sides. “She was only fourteen years old.”

“What happened?” Those two little words came from you — and you didn’t even realise it.

Because lying motionless on the table was the body of a young girl — from what you could make out beneath the injuries that covered her skin, anyway.

Her pallor was such a deathly white that you knew she was long gone. Her clothes were dirty, ripped…by what looked like claws. Chunks of flesh had been gouged out, her throat cut—

Your ears were ringing too loudly for you to think. But as your heart beat at a gallop, another cry rent the air, stealing your attention to the corner of the room.

“This is Marin,” the man breathed, moving closer to the woman who sat curled up and distraught in the corner. “Dahlia’s mother. She saw the attack with her own eyes.”

“Oh, gods,” you whispered. Devin’s hand landed on your shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

Your father took slow, careful footsteps towards the grieving mother. And the softness with which he knelt before her, laying a tentative hand atop of hers…it had your eyes stinging.

“My name is Marschal,” he introduced himself quietly. “I’m so sorry for what those monsters have taken from you. Your beautiful daughter is safe in the Beyond now. The fae can hurt her no more.”

Another soft cry shuddered out of Marin. But she nodded her head and answered, her voice watery, “I know who you are. What…what you do.”

“Then you’ll know why I’ve been brought here. What happened…it’s something I believe our queens should know about,” he paused. “If you’re able, I’d like to know exactly what it was you witnessed. As much as you can manage, of course.”

The request almost made you flinch. It seemed callous, somehow, when her child’s body was still right there on the table and hadn’t yet been sent back to the earth. But after a beat of Marin staring at your father through her tear-filled eyes, she offered the slightest dip of her chin.

“I…” Her voice wobbled. “I’ll try.”

“Devin,” your father murmured over his shoulder. “Fetch her a drink to steady her nerves.”

You were jostled ever so slightly forward as Devin slipped past you — too close to Dahlia’s poor, broken body than you could handle. You turned away, your feet numbly carrying you to Marin’s side. You took her hand into your own, and she didn’t object to the comfort.

In fact, her voice was a little steadier as she said, “It was just me and my Dahlia.” She inhaled slowly through her nose, steeling herself. Her eyes fluttered shut for the briefest second before they opened again. “We were returning home from visiting my sister in another village. It was such a nice night that we decided not to spend coin on transport. The walk was a bit lengthy, but we’d made it before. We knew which way to go.”

The story was momentarily interrupted by Devin re-entering the room and handing a glass of amber liquid to Marin. Her free hand trembled as she took it and lifted it to her lips. Beads of dark liquid coloured her pale lips as she swallowed it down and continued.

“Only, Dahlia insisted on cutting through a forest to look at some plants,” she whispered. “She’s into botany, you see — she was into botany.” A fresh wave of shuddering sobs threatened to overpower her, but somehow, she found the strength to tamp down on them. “So we went into the forest, but Dahlia, she…she had a habit of wandering off, and I got separated from her. It wasn’t for long. But when I found her again, she was with a man.”

Your father repeatedly softly, “A man?”

“I knew at once that it was a faerie. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. And Dahlia thought so, too. He was talking to her, and she had this glazed look in her eyes like she was somewhere else. He offered her his hand, and she took it. I knew in my bones that he was going to take her away from me, so I stepped forward, announced myself. I told Dahlia to come, that we were going home. The man answered for her in a voice like music.”

“What did he say?” you rasped.

“He said — he said that Dahlia would make a pretty wife for a faerie. That faerie men liked human brides. He said that she was coming back with him, across the wall. He asked her if she wanted to do that, and she said yes. I think he had her under some sort of spell. I could tell that it wasn’t my Dahlia talking. And I panicked. I stepped forward to grab her out of his arms, and he attacked. Immediately. It was all so quick, I couldn’t register what he was doing. But then he was disappearing before my eyes, and Dahlia was crumpling to the floor, and I knew…I could see she was gone.”

A keening, horrendous wail left her, and she was curling herself up so tightly — like she was trying to hold herself together. It was all you could do to grip onto her hand as she rocked back and forth and cried over and over and over, my Dahlia, my Dahlia, my Dahlia.

You waited for your father to say something else — to come up with an answer as to what might ease her suffering, if anything at all could.

But it was Devin who lowered himself to one knee before her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his face gentle, open.

“Madam, the last thing I wish to do is cause you any more distress at such an awful time.” He spoke in the calm, sure way that all village guards did. “But I am a guard of the village from which my companions and I hail. Our girls have been suffering attacks at the hands of the fae, also. If, perhaps, you could describe the faerie you saw…who hurt your child…”

“He was beautiful, as I said,” Marin snivelled. “So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him. Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. That beauty made him easy for Dahlia to trust. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.”

“Their beauty,” your father supplied sympathetically, “is a calculated part of their thrall. Do not blame yourself nor your daughter for being allured by it. The fae know what they are doing.”

You did not hear whether the reassurance brought Marin any comfort. You didn’t catch what Devin then said to her, despite you looking right at him, watching his lips move.

Your mind was roaring, ears screaming. You felt…panic.

Their beauty is a calculated part of their thrall.

The fae know what they are doing.

So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him.

Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.

Faerie men like human brides.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

Was it so easy to be lured by the mere beauty of the fae?

Was that what Azriel had done to you?

Dahlia’s attacker had seemed nice to her…just as Azriel seemed nice to you.

And Dahlia was now lying lifeless and brutalised just inches away. Allured by a beautiful faerie. Like the other village girls. Like your mother. Like you—

You launched up, nausea turning your stomach. This was too much. If all fae were the same…if all of them were capable of this…

“What is it?” Devin asked. Your father didn’t speak; merely stared at you with an indiscernible expression.

“I need some fresh air, I’m sorry.” Feeling as though you were gasping for breath, you pushed through them, stumbled clumsily past Dahlia’s body and out of the room before they could stop you. You focused on forcing your legs forward, finding your way out of the house. Balmy summer air coaxed you towards it and had you practically falling out of the door.

What had you been thinking, having regular, secret meetings with a faerie who could tear you apart with his bare hands? Inviting him into your village, your home? Allowing yourself to think that he was somehow different? Finding ways to justify your involvement with him?

Azriel may not have been responsible for the attacks himself, but his kind were. You didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he was capable of. For all you were aware, your warming to him had been carefully manipulated by him, by magic. For all you were aware, he could have an extensive list of human girls that he’d softened and lured. He could be using you for something.

You didn’t want to think about what. Didn’t want to know.

What you did know was that you couldn’t see him anymore. Dahlia was some sort of sign that your dealings with the fae had to stop. What you had with Azriel needed to stop—

“It hits a little close to home, doesn’t it?” Your father’s soft voice reached you from the doorway. Amidst your reeling thoughts, you hadn’t heard him follow you out.

You sucked in a huge gulp of fresh air and pivoted to face him. “It does,” you agreed. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you by running out of there.”

He shook his head, took a step closer. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I felt it was necessary for you to see just what a single faerie was capable of. That doesn’t mean I expect you to be unfeeling and unaffected. That sight in there is…it’s terrifying. And gods, if it were you lying on that table—” he cut himself off, swallowing hard. It was a rare thing for him to share such sentiments with you. That was as close as he’d allow himself to get.

So you nodded, letting him know that you got it. He was terrified of you meeting the same fate that poor Dahlia had.

The moment hung between you, thick as the sticky night air. And then you were taking the plunge and asking the question that lived somewhere deep and heavy inside you, trying to claw its way out.

“Was it like that when Mama was attacked?” you studied your father, waiting for him to flinch, grimace, something. “When she was attacked by a faerie, did she…did she look much like Dahlia does?”

A gruesome question, and perhaps an unfair one.

But for the first time in your life, you needed to know — the gory details. How bad it had been.

Your father pursed his lips, staring back at you. For a moment, you thought he might not answer.

But then he shook his head. Shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked…vulnerable.

“No,” he answered, his voice laced with something you couldn’t grasp. “No. There was far less left of your mother after her attack. Nothing of the woman I had loved.”

Before you could answer, he turned and trudged back inside.

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Three weeks in a row.

Three weeks in a damn row, the curtains had remained shut at Y/N’s bedroom window.

Azriel thought his need to see her was starting to eat him alive.

But gods, he missed her. He missed her curiosity, that she did not seem to fear him. Missed that he could lose hours talking to her about everything and nothing. Missed her scent, the taste and feel of her lips—

He heaved a sigh, sprawling back in his bed and running a hand over the panes of his bare stomach. His blood thudded and thrummed in his veins. Burned too hot.

He knew, at least, that she was well, only from the rare glances he caught of her from the sky above the village. Seeing her and not being able to swoop down and speak to her was a whole torture of its own. But if the curtains were closed, that meant it wasn’t safe. The last thing he wanted was to get her into trouble.

Still, that didn’t stop his bones from feeling too hot with need, his heart too heavy—

Another quiet sight escaped him, the pads of his fingers stroking absentmindedly over his abdomen. It felt entirely out his control that his thoughts quickly ventured down the same avenue they’d been walking for three weeks, now. Yet again recalling that conversation he and Y/N had had when he’d last been with her. The broadened confidence that had lain within her actions.

She’d asked him about lovers. She’d kissed him deeply, yearningly, and had he not stopped her, she would have taken it further. He knew she would have — knew it from the way her scent had changed.

Gods, that scent. He was sure it had followed him everywhere these past weeks. It would drive him mad yet. The scent of fresh summer air and sweet, ripe apples. It was perfect, and mouthwatering, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel wanted more. A touch. A taste—

A low noise rumbled in his chest as his cock instantly hardened. This was why it was best to keep his mind occupied. Because as time went on, so too did his growing, strengthening, snowballing attraction for the human woman.

She was likely unaware of what affect she truly had on him.

With only the covers draped over his naked body, the light brush of the fabric against his hardened length was too much. He kicked them away, glancing down at his body’s reaction to the mere thought of Y/N. Nothing to do with him not having had sex for a while now.

All to do with the fact that he wanted Y/N. Badly.

He wrapped a hand around his cock, releasing a hushed moan at the touch. And as his thumb mopped up the precum at the head, and he began to pump slowly, languidly, he closed his eyes and imagined it was her hand that touched him.

That mental image threw the unhurried pace straight out of the window. Fantasies swarmed him as he writhed on the mattress and bit down on his husky, growling moans. Thoughts of Y/N stroking and squeezing and licking him, of her guiding him through his pleasure with filthy words and promises. Watching his length disappear between those perfect, full lips—

A shout shuddered out of him that he was too slow to suppress, his chest heaving as he emptied his cock onto his stomach. The pleasure was too much. He couldn’t think around it, couldn’t see anything but the stars that burst in his vision.

He didn’t know when he’d last cum so fast, so hard.

But somehow, he did know that no other woman, female, whatever, would ever be enough again. Only Y/N. He wanted Y/N.

He needed to find a way to see her.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Resolving to have nothing more to do with Azriel did not, unfortunately, banish thoughts of him. Nor did it banish the feeling of missing him, missing what you’d grown comfortable with.

It was hard to go from looking forward to weekly rendezvous to just…nothing. No social interaction, besides what you got from behind the bar of the inn. No personal connections.

It was for the best, you told yourself. In the three weeks since you’d been on the road with your father and his men, those images of Dahlia’s broken body had not left your mind. They haunted you as thoroughly as the sounds of Marin’s cries and wails. As thoroughly as those words she’d spoken.

The most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

Azriel was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he may not have been responsible for Dahlia’s attack, or the attacks on the girls in your village…that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable.

The fae were a violent people. There was no getting around that. And you…you could not take that risk. No matter how much your heart yearned to do so, just to feel the touch of Azriel’s hands and hear the smooth lilt of his voice.

He was fae. You were human. It could never work.

So you kept your curtains closed, and you kept yourself busy. You knew Azriel must have wondered what was going on, why you’d been unavailable three weeks in a row. Soon enough, you told yourself, he was bound to get bored and seek connection with somebody else, and your brief brush with the fae would become a bizarre, distant memory.

You hoped.

Perhaps if you chanted it to yourself enough, it would come true.

But gods, you’d become so comfortable with him. Had found what felt like a real, genuine bond with somebody, like nothing you’d been able to experience before. It was no easy thing to return to loneliness, just you and the inn and your piano. Everything was suddenly too dull, too quiet.

At least your father hadn’t asked you to come on the road with him again.

His trips were getting longer, the further he ventured. Two days had stretched to four. You were more alone than ever.

Tonight, when the last of your customers had filed through the door, you were not in the mood to play piano, nor to read a book. Your frame of mind was a tricky one. You felt…restless and misplaced. Tired in your bones and yet wide awake and longing.

You tossed and you turned, kicking your sheets, writhing against your mattress until you were sticky with sweat. You wanted to pull back the curtains and wrench open the window, but…not at this hour. Not while Azriel might still be circling above, searching to see if you were available.

So in the dark, you let the hours tick by, waited for sleep to find you or…some semblance of peace. You listened to each chime of the village’s clock tower, making you aware of every hour you’d lain awake; one o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock. No passing time made a difference. Restlessness still commanded your body until finally, you’d had enough.

It was nearing four o’clock by the time you threw your sheets off you and stormed out of your bed, exasperated and fed up — by your constant thoughts that would not leave you alone, and how they seemed to control everything. What were you to do without the few hours of oblivion that sleep afforded you?

Was even this some power of the fae…to command your mind and drive you mad with sleeplessness and restlessness until you were losing yourself entirely, becoming an empty shell who lived only to harbour feelings for an ethereal being who saw you as some sort of toy? Was your longing even real, or just the product of magic?

You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

Though still very much night, the darkness had lifted just slightly over the village with another summer morning rapidly approaching. Birds were beginning to wake and sing their songs. It wouldn’t be too long before the milkman ventured through the village with his wagon, leaving bottles at the residents’ doors.

If Azriel had tried to visit, he certainly wouldn’t be around any longer — not with the world waking up.

So you resigned yourself to the fact that you wouldn’t be sleeping. You threw a robe over your nightgown and trudged down the stairs, irritated and ill at ease. You headed straight for the back door, to your small yard that was just as grey and dull as everything else. At least the air would be fresh. Somewhat.

Though tinged with the smells of the countryside, it was nice to feel it wash over you. Cool, in the absence of the sun, and yet not cold. You slumped down onto the wooden bench against the wall and rested your head back, closing your eyes.

How, you wondered, had you been foolish enough to land yourself in such a predicament? How had you gone from being some human, village nobody, to brushing arms with the very beings you’d been raised to despise? It had to be magic that had weaved its way into your mind. Perhaps Azriel hadn’t meant to bewitch you, but he had. Perhaps it was some natural facet of his kind that he had no control over, that you’d fallen victim to. You’d heard stories of the kinds of fae who were love talkers — Gancanagh — whose sole magic was to pour sweetened words into women’s ears and so thoroughly seduce them until they were nothing more than their feelings. Could that be what Azriel was? Could he have—

A thud ripped you from your thoughts so abruptly that you jolted, your eyes flying open.

Just in time to see Azriel jump down from the opposite wall, feet landing smoothly on the cracked concrete ground of the yard.

You stared at him, knocked speechless, for a moment, by the mere sight of him. You couldn’t deny that you’d missed gazing upon his brilliance. The dark leathers and flawless appearance. The shadows.

But you quickly yanked yourself out of it, shaking your head. You would not be bewitched or love-talked or…whatever. Not again.

“It’s so good to see you,” Azriel breathed, cleaving the silence.

But you were up on your feet, still shaking your head, suddenly cold all over. “You can’t be here.”

“I checked the village before I came down,” he stepped closer. “All is fine—”

“No,” you interrupted. “You need to leave.”

He paused, seeming to take his time studying you. His brow furrowed at your guardedness, the way you crossed your arms over your chest and eyed the distance between yourself and the door.

“I don’t understand…” he murmured, taking a step closer. “Where have you been? What’s happened?”

The backs of your legs hit the bench in your attempt to back up. “None of that matters. You just need to stay away from me. Leave, and don’t come back.”

Surprise seemed to steal him so suddenly that it gave you an opening the move. You made to cross your way back to the door, to get yourself inside. Locks were no use against his ability to winnow, but at least you could find a weapon in there, should you need it.

But Azriel was stepping closer just as fast, his warm hand closing around your elbow in a gentle yet firm touch. Gods, you’d missed that touch—

“Don’t,” you snapped, recoiling. “Do not touch me—”

“Y/N, just look at me. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Why?” Pivoting to face him didn’t ease his grip even a little. “So you can charm me into believing you’re not dangerous?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, his eyes blazing. “I never claimed not to be dangerous. But I am not a danger to you.”

A brusque, almost hysterical laugh broke from you. “Resorting to faerie riddles? How convenient—”

“Y/N—”

“Let me go.”

This time, when you yanked your arm back, his hand fell. You didn’t wait around to see his reaction as you darted through the door and slammed it shut, locking it with trembling hands.

But when you turned, he was right there in front of you, in your fucking house. You backed yourself up against the door to stop your body colliding with his.

“Get out,” you breathed. “I mean it. Get away from me.”

Slowly, he rose his hands in a placating manner. There was pleading in his tone as he carefully bit out, “I just want to talk to you. Please. Tell me what I’ve done.”

You stared at him, pressing your palms flat against the door. It hurt so, so badly that you wanted to hear him out. Wanted to wipe that crestfallen, devastated expression from his face and hold his hand and talk to him and kiss him—

No, no, no. You shook your head, shook the thoughts away. Azriel watched with wide eyes.

“I am not a danger to you,” he said again, slowly lowering his hands. “But if that’s what you’re worried about…” smooth as a damn waltz, he unsheathed a blade, sharp enough to slice through the sky itself. He gripped the hilt, holding the beautiful weapon out to you. “Take this. It is the only thing I am currently armed with, and if at any point you feel in danger, you have my permission to stab me with it. I just want to talk.”

Your gaze flicked between the blade and his face, unsure and upset. Upset, because you knew that the longer you spent in his presence, spent listening to his voice, the harder it would be to remember the driving force behind your hostility. The harder it would be to convince him to leave and never return.

But perhaps the key to that was not being hostile towards him, but rather, making him hostile towards you. That would be easier. You had never been completely honest with him — about who your father was. Maybe fessing up to the fact that you’d joined him in his campaign would be enough to anger Azriel into leaving.

You jerked your chin at the blade, squaring your shoulders. “Place it on the floor and step away.”

He didn’t hesitate. A shadow snaked out, coiling around the dagger and easing it to the floor with barely a noise. And then Azriel stepped back, and back, and back. Until he was pressed against the wall opposite you.

He didn’t move an inch as you reached for the knife and took it into your hand. The feel of it was weighty and foreign — and beautiful.

“I just want to talk to you,” Azriel said again, his voice gritty. “Tell me what happened. Tell me what…what’s changed.”

You met his eyes, squaring your shoulders as you admitted, “I wasn’t completely honest with you.”

His face showed no reaction. He didn’t even stir. Just stared back at you and spoke clearly, carefully. “Alright. Talk me through that.”

“We once discussed a band of humans who are raising a cause against the fae. Do you remember?”

“I do.”

“I never told you that it is my father who set up the cause. He is the one behind the campaigns. He is the one who takes his men village to village and spreads word of the evil deeds of the fae. He’s behind it all.”

A heavy silence filled the space between you. Azriel stared at you, his expression unreadable. This was the moment he would curse you for keeping the truth from him. The moment he would leave and never look back.

Except, all he did was nod his head once. Like you’d merely offered him a droll comment about the weather.

“Do you not understand what I’m telling you?” you pushed. “I sat up on that hill with you and discussed the matter when I knew the entire time who you were talking about. What they were doing. I deceived you. Kept it from you.”

“There are things you don’t know about me, too,” he answered quietly. “Things that I, for certain reasons, have not told you yet. I would be foolish to assume the same wouldn’t be the case for you,” he stared at you, head-on. Unflinching. “I know better than anybody, Y/N, that you cannot help who or what you come from. I won’t judge you for it, just as I’ve asked you not to judge me.”

Gods, he was so damn reasonable. So much more…worldly and mature, than the human men you knew in the village.

Then again, Azriel had centuries of life on them.

“I’m not angry that you didn’t tell me,” he studied you. “I can understand why you’d be cautious—”

“My father took me on his campaign three weeks ago. Took me on the road with him and his men.”

It was that which seemed to really stop Azriel in his tracks. Something — the slightest thing, a tiny reaction — flared in his eyes. You weren’t sure what it was.

Good. This was good. Maybe now he would get the point, that you and he needed to stop seeing each other.

“Night after night, I sat and listened to what my father had to say. To what he knows,” your hand gripped hard at the knife’s hilt, like it was the only thing grounding you and making you able to speak. “None of it was stuff I hadn’t heard before. I even resented listening to it. I curled myself up in a corner and repeated to myself over and over that whatever was being said, you were not like that. You were not the kind of fae of which my father spoke.”

Azriel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I am not. Just as I told you.”

“I found it frustrating to hear him tarnish all of your people with the same stories when you had proved to me otherwise. That some fae could be good. That I had been ignorant. And then,” a short laugh rasped out of you, “and then, as if the universe was trying to send me some sort of message, a man came looking for us and said we needed to accompany him somewhere. And we did. My father, a member of his group, and myself. We followed this man to a house in that village, and I knew it was bad from the other end of the street. I could hear the cries coming from within that house, the wailing.”

That information was met with a wall of silence — as though Azriel was biting back his words and waiting for you to finish your story before he would deign to speak. Even if the rigid set of his shoulders told you he desperately wanted to do otherwise.

“There was a girl’s body in that house.” Merely recalling the image of Dahlia had a lump rising in your throat. You silently begged your eyes not to tear up. “The body of a fourteen-year-old girl. A child. A fae male had attacked her, and her poor mother had seen the entire thing.”

Azriel swallowed. “That’s awful—”

“She told us exactly what she saw. Described the faerie to us. How he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, with dark eyes and golden skin and such a charming demeanour. How her daughter hadn’t stood a chance, because he was already weaving his way into her mind and appealing himself to her. Making her think that he was no threat. Because his beauty, his allure, was above anything else.”

“And…what are you saying?” Azriel asked bleakly. “That you think it was I who attacked that girl—?”

“No, but it was a faerie! It’s always the fucking fae!”

The words left you so angrily, so loudly, that you realised you’d been waiting for someone to yell them at. That they burned inside you, and they hurt. You felt…foolish. Betrayed.

And Azriel appeared to read all of that on your face. He swallowed again, hard, balling his fists at his sides like it took everything in his power to hold himself back and not approach you.

“I never once denied that faeries are capable of such atrocities,” he stared at you. “Not once. I simply asked you to acknowledge that there is good and bad in all people, whatever we are. It’s not as black and white as the fae just being bad.”

“And yet,” your voice was cold, “I haven’t been presented with anything to say otherwise.”

That might have been a low blow. You were guessing it was, from the way Azriel physically flinched, before schooling his features.

Because he…he was evidence of good, wasn’t he? He certainly had been, before the situation with poor Dahlia. He’d shown you that he was tender and soft, patient and kind. It had been enough for a while.

But you had more or less just said that it had never been enough at all. And that seemed to bother him more than anything else.

“You and I are worlds apart,” you added, sounding weaker. “Whatever or whoever you are…we simply have no business getting involved with one another.”

“That’s bullshit.” In a flash, Azriel was pushing off the wall. He strode forward a couple of steps, before thinking better of it and stopping in his tracks. Ferocity turned his golden skin a ruddy hue. “I don’t care what sides of the wall either of us fall on. What matters is that I feel right around you. I feel alive because of you. If we have no business getting involved, tell me why I cannot sleep for having constant thoughts about you. Tell me why you have consumed me as though you have bewitched me.”

You blinked, almost — almost — wanting to laugh. The description was one you absolutely had fitted to him. To consider that he’d come to the same conclusion about you—

“I swear to you that I have never used any sort of faerie sway to appeal myself to you,” he continued. “What we feel for one another is genuine. I keep coming back to you because I ache for you. And I don’t judge you one bit for thinking badly of my kind — especially after what you saw on your father’s trip. It’s awful, and I abhor what was done to that girl. But I beg of you, Y/N — please. Do not paint me in the same light.”

Each word pelted you like hailstones, the impact of them sending a shiver coursing down your spine. So quickly, your body wanted to falter, to fold, to go marching over to him. It took every shred of effort to stand your ground and grip onto the knife as though your life depended on it.

“I’m not trying to invalidate what you’ve seen, what you’ve experienced.” Azriel took another slight step forward. “I would never. I just…I ask you to give me one more chance to prove that there is another side to the coin. That good can exist as well as bad.”

You pointed the blade towards him, stopping him in his tracks. But you lifted your chin as you asked, “How? How would you prove that? I don’t want any faerie trickery.”

“And there would be none. I want to show you…for you to see with your own eyes…”

“…see what?”

“The good that I know. The good that I live amongst.” Pleading lay within his eyes. “Just give me one more night. One more night of your time to take you into my world. To show you more of myself. And if you still want nothing more to do with me…” Slowly, he shook his head, as though he could hardly bear the thought. “Then I will find a way to accept it, and you will never have to see me again.”

You shook — trembled — with the effort to rein yourself in. You didn’t understand this carnal…thing, deep inside you, that was drawing you to him. Like a thread in your body, connected to one in his, begging you to close the gap and go to him.

You rocked on your feet, eyeing him with none of the anger you’d felt moments before, and all of the caution at how he so often made you feel. Like you wanted to be in front of him. To touch him.

“I don’t…understand what you’re suggesting,” you said slowly.

Azriel took a single, tiny step closer. You didn’t stop him. “Let me take you across The Wall for one night. A few hours, if that’s all you’re willing to give. To my city, my home. Let me introduce you to my family. To everyone and everything that reminds me how much good exists amongst my kind, even when I sometimes doubt it myself.”

“Across The Wall—?”

“It would be entirely safe.” Another step, closing that gap between you. “I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. And if we get there and you don’t even want to talk to me, you don’t have to. I just…I just want you to see. You deserve to see the good.”

So many feelings warred inside you at once. Intrigue, curiosity, fear — such raging fear. Excitement. Maybe…maybe a little bit of hope.

Hope that you could still be proved wrong. Because you still wanted to be proved wrong.

You didn’t want to let Azriel go.

Swallowing hard, your eyes shuttered. What he was asking of you was huge, and that wasn’t even considering the logistics of how you would do it. “I don’t…know if I could.”

With another step, Azriel was close enough to touch. The familiar scent of him was almost enough, alone, for you to fold. The hand that held the blade lowered entirely without your willing.

“Why don’t you take the day to think about it?” Hazel eyes were a long-awaited caress against your face. “Your father is away for another night yet, isn’t he?”

Your gaze clashed with his abruptly. “How do you know that?”

Quickly, he held his hands up. “Just going by the pattern of his previous trips, that’s all. He doesn’t usually return until the weekend.”

Right. Perhaps you were being a little bit paranoid. You forced yourself to relax a little.

“Yes,” you concurred. “He’s away for another night.”

Azriel’s chin dipped. “So…how about this? You take the day to think my offer over. If you decide you want to accept and come with me, I’ll be waiting for you above. At midnight, on the dot. If you decide you don’t, and you do not want anything else to do with me…well, like I said, I’ll find a way to accept it somehow.”

You knew your resolve was already slipping, leaning more towards what felt right, rather than…that what you’d been raised to believe was right.

And it wasn’t as though it was an unreasonable offer. You believed that Azriel could keep you safe either side of The Wall. Your wellbeing wasn’t what concerned you in the slightest.

You supposed that it was that if you were to go along with this…there would likely be no turning back. You’d so far merely dipped your toe into the world of the fae.

Crossing The Wall would be like submerging yourself in it.

“Take the day to think about it,” Azriel said again, studying you closely. “All I ask is that you do think about it…properly. Don’t just…don’t just write me off. Please, Y/N. I couldn’t bear it.”

Something in his voice smothered that last shred of doubt that tried to hold you back. Your own voice was quiet as you replied, “Alright. I’ll think about it.”

In front of you, his shoulders seemed to slump with something like relief. Pleading still lay within his eyes. You weren’t sure, in that moment, if you could handle staring back at it.

So you instead held the knife out to him, ripping your gaze away. “You can have this back.”

“Don’t want to stab me?” he said, and your lips threatened to quirk up. You forced the smile away as he took the weapon back and sheathed it.

“I’ve yet to decide. I’ll spend the day contemplating that, too.”

So easy, to fall back into the natural rapport you had with him. Azriel didn’t bother to bite down on his smile.

But the smile then faltered, and worry clouded his eyes. “I really do hope you’ll give me another chance.”

“Why?” you blurted. “Why me?”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. And then he stepped away from you. Something in his stance told you he was readying himself to disappear.

“I’ll tell you why, if you come across the wall with me,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “I want to be transparent with you. But I have to protect my heart, too.”

“You—”

“Just think on it,” he spoke softer, gentler. “And get some sleep, Y/N.”

Before you could respond, a breeze rippled through the room, tinged with the smells of winter.

And just like that, you were alone.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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327 notes · View notes

sophsicle · 1 year

Text

Sirius and Remus stare at one another. On either side of the room. Battlefields between them.

Maybe it's been years since they last saw one another.

Maybe it's been minutes.

You can never tell with them.

James watched his friends fall in love before any of them knew what that meant.

He watched them after, when, tragically, they did.

Sirius and Remus have never been able to get comfortable with their relationship. Have never relaxed in one another's beds.

He'll get bored of me, Sirius had said to James once. When the novelty wears off. Everyone does.

I'm too much trouble, Remus a few weeks later. I can't expect him to put up with this forever.

James never knew what to say when they got like that. It's not that Sirius and Remus didn't know that they were loved. Only that they both saw love as something flimsy and delicate and easily broken. As something they would one day lose between the sofa cushions. In the crack between the wall and the bed. In the back of a cab.

Remus coughs, clearing his throat. He looks old. And tired. Nothing like James remembers.

"Listen," Sirius, who looks worse somehow. "Dumbledore told me to lay low here but...you know I can...I can find somewhere else if...I don't want to put you out, is all."

James and Remus both scoff.

Idiot.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course, you're staying here."

Sirius gives Remus a look, pouting in that way he does. And through the dirt and the years and the ragged clothes, James sees the boy he used to know. Used to wrap himself around until you couldn't tell them apart. Until you swore they wore one skin. Shared one beating heart.

"You don't owe me anything," Sirius says stubbornly.

Remus gives him an empty smile. "Don't worry. I know."

Sirius screws up his face. "I'm not staying if we're just gonna snap at one another the whole time. I -" he sighs, running a hand over his face. "I'm too tired to fight Moony."

The nickname makes Remus flinch. "Too tired to fight? Sirius Black? Never."

Sirius huffs. "That's notorious mass murderer Sirius Black to you, thank you very much."

There's a twinkle in Remus's eye. In Sirius's too.

Go on, James thinks. Go on, cross the Rubicon. Touch each other. Hold each other. I can't anymore. I can't. I can't take care of you anymore. Which breaks his heart. Breaks his heart more than almost everything else. I need you to do it for me. Please.

Remus motions down the hall. "Why don't you take a shower - or a bath - I'll get dinner started."

There's a small pause before Sirius eventually nods his head. The motion jerky. Awkward. "Yeah, alright."

Take care of each other.

For me.

Please.

Please. Please. Please.

"Sirius?" Remus calls to him before he disappears into the bathroom. Sirius turns around, arching his brow.

Please. Please. Please.

Remus hesitates for a moment before stepping forward, before closing the space between them. Sirius's eyes go wide but he doesn't say anything. Doesn't move. When Remus reaches him he holds out his hand, stopping before he touches the other man. The pair looking at one another and nowhere else.

"Can I?"

A rough sound comes out of Sirius's mouth, James thinks it might be a laugh. "Yes. God yes."

Remus is gentle, hand cradling Sirius's face, thumb swiping over his cheek. Sirius trembles, like even this is too much. Too tender. Too loving. After a few seconds Remus leans forward, placing a delicate kiss on Sirius's forehead.

"I've missed you," he murmurs against the other man's skin.

Sirius's eyes flutter closed as he sways into Remus. A second later the pair have their arms around one another. Clinging. Holding.

James smiles. Even if it's a little sad. A little scuffed. A little cracked. He smiles. Hoping they understand now. Hoping they see.

That this love has roots.

{inspired by this song }

#wolfstar #sirus x remus #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #soph rambles

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hees-mine · 1 month

Text

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟑

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: angst, cursing, sorry for the errors.

Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, minors do not interact!

WC: 1,695k

⟱⟱⟱

Days seemed to pass by slower and slower without you around. It was awful. Everything felt empty, not to mention how quiet it always was without you there.

He missed how you’d come to the kitchen like it was your own and help yourself to any food he had, whether that be a snack or his leftovers.

He missed the little sneaky kisses you’d give him on his cheek while he was cooking and his daughter was in her room and the occasional quickies in the kitchen or in his office.

He missed you just being around sure he had his daughter but that didn’t mean he never got lonely.

Especially at night when it was just him lying in a cold bed that begged to be warmed by the presence of someone who loved him.

What made it worse was the fact he actually had that, but he had to give it all away for the sake of his daughter’s happiness.

In turn, putting himself on the back end and masking his pain or what he thought was masking it.

He thought he was doing a pretty good job at pretending he was okay but little did he know he wasn’t and that’s what ultimately led to him being caught.

He was currently in the shower when his daughter snuck into his room, snooping for his phone. She made sure the shower was still running while swiping up on his phone and opening it. Luckily, he didn’t have a passcode, so leafing through his messages was easy.

She scrolled, and there were no new messages. “Odd,” she mumbles to herself and scrolls to the older messages, where your name can clearly be seen with a heart emoji next to it.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes tapping on the conversation between you two it was mostly good morning and goodnight but some were more flirty and others were just casual conversations.

Now it dawned on her no wonder he’s been on his phone so much, which in turn meant he wasn’t over you, and he was still reminiscing about the two of you together.

She heard the water cut off and she quickly shut his phone off and jogged downstairs waiting for him to finish getting ready for work.

About fifteen minutes later, he came downstairs to greet her. “Hey, you’re up early,” he laughs while going into the kitchen to make himself a coffee.

“Yeah,” she shifts nervously, watching her dad from the living room.

While getting a mug for his coffee, he unintentionally grabs the cup you used to use for water in the early mornings.

He remembers those mornings like yesterday, the ones where he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He was so smitten with you back then, and absolutely nothing has changed now. He just wished he had a bit of willpower at that time cause if he did, he wouldn’t have even made a move on you, to begin with, and the way he’s feeling right now could have easily been avoided.

He holds the cup in his hands for a few seconds and sighs loudly before putting it back in the cupboard and grabbing a new one.

He sat at the kitchen table, waiting for his coffee to brew while looking at the texts. He promised himself he’d stop, but he couldn’t. It was the only thing he had left of you, and besides, it was no one else’s business that he kept a secret on his phone.

He couldn’t help but smile remembering all the times he texted you on lunch break, and you’d sneakily answer him even if you were in class. He’d scold you so many times, but your little hard-headed self never quite listened. He wasn’t complaining either cause he loved texting you even if the timing was inopportune.

His daughter kept sneaking glances at him from the living room, and it was clear as day that the smile on his face was now far brighter than the many he had forced over the last few weeks.

And now it was obvious that he hadn’t been the same since the whole ordeal between the two of you.

She did feel kinda bad about it all, but how could not only her best friend but her dad betray her as well? How else was she supposed to feel? Was everything supposed to be sunshine and rainbows after she found out her dad and her best friend had been fucking each other and having a whole romantic relationship behind her back?

She sighed loudly and folded her arms across her chest, thinking in a whirlwind of never-ending possibilities of who was in the wrong here.

No wonder her dad seemed so much happier months back; no wonder you were acting so jumpy and suspicious around her. No wonder heeseung was smiling more.

Ugh.

It was happening all right In front of her face, and she missed every single last sign.

“Anyways,” he says, shutting off his phone and finishing his coffee. “That’s good 'cause I have to get some gas on the way.” She nodded, her head still lost in thought. “Everything good?” He asked. When he saw the indifferent expression on her face, he felt his heart drop for a moment, wondering if somehow he had been caught, but he breathed a sigh of relief when she replied that she was just tired. “Aww, don’t work too hard, okay? Maybe after school, you can invite your friends over, and we can have dinner like before.” he easily shakes the negative thoughts away, realizing he was just being paranoid. There’s no way she knew he was still caught up on you.

“Sure, I’d like that.” She forced a smile of her own this time.

“How are things with Jay still good?” He transferred his coffee to a travel cup and put on his suit jacket.

“Yes.” heeseung started to sense something odd again. Before, she’d been so enthusiastic about sharing stories about Jay with him, but now she was completely silent.

“Good, I like him for you.” She merely smiles and sits up from the couch, ready to go to school.

Heeseung monitored her strange behavior, and he couldn’t help thinking that maybe he had ruined his relationship with his daughter because he was with you. Maybe he fucked up every relationship he had because he was selfish and only acted on what he wanted without thinking of the consequences, and worse, maybe his daughter didn’t actually forgive him for what he did with her best friend.

He took a deep breath to calm his overworked heart, telling himself that he’d just have to talk things out with her and everything would be okay.

He had to convince himself of that because if he didn’t, he was not sure if he could even go to work with his mind being overloaded with nothing but worry and stress.

Later that night, when his daughter got home from school, she invited Jake and Jay over for dinner like normal, and everything went well. Heeseung still trusted Jay's intentions with his daughter, and Jake was still that overwhelmingly nice guy.

Once dinner was finished, heeseung cleaned up, with Jake insisting that he help out as well, which heeseung didn’t refuse cause he could use the extra help. After everything was cleaned, Jake joined the other two upstairs in his daughter's room while he went to his office to get some leftover work done.

Time flies by while he was working and the only thing that made him realize just how late it was was Jake knocking on his office door letting him know they were heading home for the night. “Oh really?” He chuckles and checks the time it was already ten at night. “Well, you boys have a good night.”

“You too, sir, thanks for dinner.” heeseung nodded his head softly, but something had been itching in his mind all night, and now that Jake and him were alone, he couldn’t help but ask.

“Say, how’s y/n been? She hasn’t been over in a while,” he casually asked while closing his computer so he could give his undivided attention.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Jake starts, and heeseung feels his heart drop.

“Know what?” His brows creased together in confusion, his heart rate picking up by the second with nothing but worry, but he tried to hide how concerned he was.

“Well, we kinda had a falling out, not me and Jay but your daughter and y/n. They don’t hang out anymore, so we kinda went our separate ways as well. None of them will tell me why, either. I tried hanging out with y/n, but she always tells me she’s busy, but I know she isn’t. She looks really sad and down all the time, and I feel bad for her cause I know she’s going through something. I just wish I could be there for her like before, you know?” Jake bounces on the balls of his feet and bites his lip softly.

“Oh wow, I’m sorry to hear that.” Heeseung pretends he doesn’t know that you and his daughter haven’t been hanging out anymore. “Well, hopefully, things get better. I’m sure it’s just a rough patch, and they’ll figure it out” he gives Jake false hope knowing full well that wouldn’t happen, and he feels even more like shit because not only was what he did affecting him, it was also affecting everyone around him.

He’s never felt so disappointed in himself.

“Yeah, me too,” Jake says with a soft smile. “We’ll see you around. Have a good night, sir.” Jake bids his goodbyes, leaving heeseung with nothing but his negative thoughts.

“Fuck” he buried his face in his hands, holding back tears, cause by now, he was sick of crying over this stupid fucking situation.

But you know what? Since everything else was fucked, why not fuck it up even more? In his reckless state, he stepped out of his office with only one thing on his mind, and that was going to see you.

Why not fuck up one last time?

⟱⟱⟱

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours

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apocalypseornaw · 1 month

Text

Very Unexpected

Sam Winchester x Reader

Follow up to Unexpected

Sam has his soul and now his memories back. You've been avoiding what happened between the two of you but with Dean's meddling the two of you finally face it.

You moved through Bobby's safe room, listening to the music flowing from your phone as you did an inventory list for him to see what all was there and what needed to be stocked up. You told yourself you were doing these small tasks to help Bobby but in reality it was to avoid a certain long legged hunter that was upstairs.

Every time you looked at Sam you felt a mixture of guilt and shame. Why hadn't you realized just how wrong he was when you'd spent days sharing a bed with him? Why had you been stupid enough to think it meant something? Of course he never would've crossed that line with you had he not been soulless.

Backing him and Dean on that Arachne hunt and seeing just how many women Sam had bedded in that town alone made you sneak away to the nearest clinic at the first chance. Luckily you tested clean. Why hadn't you at the very least made him use a condom?

What was worse than before when he didn't have the memories of his “gap year” as you and Dean had deemed it, was knowing he had his memories. What must he think of you? Especially considering he hadn't even attempted to mention it.

A few weeks had passed since he got his memories back and Cas healed the crack in his psyche. Unfortunately you and the boys had also started gravitating towards Bobby's any time a hunt wasn't going on so there was a lot of overlap. All of you were welcomed at Bobby's whenever and you loved seeing Dean, he was your best friend but seeing Sam made you feel so much you didn't want to.

—----------

A tap at the open door had you spinning around to face whoever it was. Dean stood just outside the doorway with a small smile “You need any help sweetheart?” You shrugged, he hadn't had an easy time either. He'd lost Lisa and Ben thanks to Samuel Campbell but that was an entirely different story.

“Want to check ammo?” You asked and he nodded “Yes ma'am”

The two of you fell into a silent rhythm and pretty soon the inventory was done and your excuse for avoiding Sam was gone. You stood outside the armory, resharpening a machete and Dean watched you for a second before nodding towards the ceiling “Something wrong between you and Sammy?”

You hung the machete up before cutting your eyes at him “Not that I know of, why?” He leveled you with a look “How many years have I known you? Plus I practically raised him” You shook your head “It's nothing important Dean. I promise. I think I'm just feeling guilty for not telling you he was back sooner”

He nodded but you knew he didn't fully believe you but you also knew he'd let it go for your sake “You know you can tell me right? Want me to kick his ass? Cause I will” you laughed “No ass kicking needed” he grinned “In that case, I was thinking movie night? Pizza and we make him and Bobby watch all the horror movies we love” you felt a smile slipping onto your face “Now you're speaking my language Winchester”

Sam heard you and Dean coming up the stairs and tried to act as if he hadn't been standing at the top of the stairs hoping to catch you alone for a second to talk. That seemed damn near impossible. The only time you weren't glued to Dean or hovering around Bobby was when you went to the bathroom,showered and slept.

—------------

He needed to talk to you about the memories from those days he spent with you in his arms that were driving him insane. From the moment he woke you up with you,Dean and Bobby hovering he'd known from the way you looked at him something had happened between you and him.

Then when that Arachne case had come up and he started connecting the dots of the women he'd slept with he could feel a wall slam up between the two of you and he'd had a feeling then what had happened. The wall came crashing down, memories flooding him of everything he'd done the year he was soulless along with memories of torture from the cage.

—----------------

Funny thing was that clinging to the memories of you helped him from getting completely washed under. The way you'd looked at him, the way you felt, fuck the way you'd tasted. It was everything he'd wanted for so long and never gave in to.

Once his memories had been restored and the crack healed he'd hoped you would bring it up, want to talk but instead you'd become scarce. Hell this was the first time in almost a month he and Dean had been at Bobby's with you for longer than a day without you hitting the road.

The two of you made it up to the hallway and you froze when your eyes met his but only for a second before you schooled your features and smiled “Movie night Sam. We're going on a snack run. Any requests?” He shook his head “I'll take whatever”

Dean rolled his eyes “Yeah we know Sammy” you laughed at the underlying joke considering Dean had been giving Sam hell about in his words “All the pent up years came out and he decided to whore it up soulless” if only Dean knew..

“I'll grab something if I think you'll like it” you promised then followed Dean out the door.

You were ordering the pizzas in the kitchen so Dean took the opportunity to bump Sam “What's up with you and her?”

Sam looked towards the kitchen then the stairs where Bobby was in the shower. “They're both busy. Now spill” Sam let out a breath “I don't know” “Bullshit. She tried telling me that. I have to let her by with a few white lies but c'mon man. It's getting hard to be under the same room as you two. Did you have a fight or something?”

“Or something” Sam scoffed and knew the moment Dean's eyes widened “You didn't” Sam groaned burying his face in his hands “I did. About five months after the fight between Lucifer and Michael”

Dean was quiet so Sam cut his eyes up at him. After a minute Dean shrugged “How was it?” “DUDE” they both glanced back towards the kitchen at Sam's outburst but you were still talking to the pizza place.

Dean looked back at Sam “You've had a thing for her for years. Oh she's so beautiful. She's such an amazing hunter. She's so smart. What's the issue?” Sam scrubbed a hand down his face “I spent three days fucking her around the same time I fucked my way through a town?”

Dean grimaced “Shit, wait three days? Didn't know ya had it in ya Sammy” he almost looked proud but then he looked back towards the kitchen “I've been making jokes” Sam nodded and Dean grimaced again “Fix it. Talk to her. We're all we got. We can't lose anyone else”

After the pizza was delivered Bobby ate then went to bed leaving you, Sam and Dean in the living room. You were curled up on one corner of the couch with your legs across Dean's lap as you watched nightmare on Elm Street.

Sam was in Bobby's recliner and didn't really seem to be paying attention to the movie but you could feel his eyes on you every now and then.

—----------

After two movies Sam stood up “I'm heading up” you looked from him to Dean “What about you?” Dean shrugged “We got two more movies sweetheart. They always tap first”

You both bid Sam goodnight then Dean started Candyman. After a few minutes he paused it and laid a hand on your ankles “Can we talk?” You raised an eyebrow “You're currently talking” he gave you that look so you grinned “Sorry. Go ahead”

He tilted his head, his jaw clenching and you knew he was trying to think of a way to approach whatever it was. You kicked your legs against his lightly “Just talk” he looked towards the stairs “He told me”

It took you just a minute to register before you were pulling the hoodie you had on up to cover your face, a groan escaping you “Why did he tell you? It's not that big a deal. We had sex a couple times. That was apparently nothing to him during that time”

Dean moved to pull the hoodie down so he could see your face “Ever think maybe you were before Arachne town? Or ever think maybe he had a thing for you before then?” You shook your head slowly “No, he didn't Dean. I mean yeah we kissed a couple times but that was it. What happened between us with him not having his soul…it was like a supernatural mickie. He didn't want me he just wanted a release”

“Or being soulless meant he wasn't worried you'd turn him down” you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and chewed it for breath before releasing it all the while really letting his words sink in. He never lied to spare your feelings. That was why you two were so close. “When did you get smart Winchester?” He laughed “Oh I just act this way sweetheart. Now please talk to him, he's doing that pouty thing and it's pathetic”

“Now?” You asked and he nodded “I'd bet clearing bodies solo on the next hunt he's still up” you shrugged “You're on” and shook his hand before throwing your legs off his lap and heading for the stairs.

Sam laid across the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it slowly moved around. You would barely talk to him, no matter the fake smiles and niceties he knew was your effort to appear to act normal. He had no idea how to fix this if you wouldn't be alone around him.

He heard someone step on the creaky board in the hallway right before there was a knock on the door. “Yeah Dean?” He called out expecting his older brother to pop his head in but when the door cracked open your face came into view “Can I come in Sam?”

—--------------

Sam's eyes widened and you saw about a thousand emotions flash through them as he sat up, throwing his long legs off the bed. “Yeah, um sure, of course”

You gave him a slight smile as you shut the door behind you and walked over to the steamer trunk that was next to the bed and sat on it to face him. Once you were sitting down he ran a hand through his hair, something you knew was a nervous thing.

“Something wrong?” He asked after a breath. You slowly raised your eyes to meet his and smiled a bit more genuine “I think you know what's wrong. The damn elephant in the room is just going to keep growing if we don't talk about it”

—---------------

Ok, this was it. You, talking to him about what happened. So many different worries went through his mind at once. What if you hated him? It was clear you regretted it. A flash of you underneath him, body nearly folded in half as he slammed into you went through his mind and a brand new worry took front and center. What if he had hurt you?

He was a bigger guy, in strength and other areas as well. Fuck, why hadn't he considered that before now? He looked down at his hands, staring at them and god help his traitorous brain all he could think about was how they'd looked on your body, wrapped around your neck.

“Please tell me I didn't hurt you” he finally spoke. When he slowly raised his gaze you were watching him, a look of confusion on your beautiful face before you laughed, a short bark of a sound “You mean physically? God no Sam. Even soulless you asked before you did anything and checked in with me more than once to make sure I was enjoying myself”

That was a relief but you'd said no to physically meaning he had indeed hurt you. You took a deep breath before continuing “Mentally it messed me up. I wanted to believe it meant more to you than it did. Years of wanting you… then came having to hide it so I wasn't the scratch at the wall then Arachne town happened and I was slapped in the face with the reality that it'd truly just been sex to you. Amazing, mind blowing, toe curling, wet dream inspiring sex but still just that”

“Mind blowing huh?” He teased and you rolled your eyes, a smirk slipping onto his face “Of course that's what you'd hear out of that” he patted the bed next to him “Come here, please”

—------------

You took a deep breath then walked over to sit next to Sam, leaving enough room you could turn to face him with your legs tucked under you. You picked at the little ducks that were on your lounge pants, funnily enough you'd stolen them from Dean's laundry basket.

One of his larger hands came to cover yours and the other went to your chin, forcing your head back very gently so you had to look him in the eyes “Can I be completely honest?” You nodded “Sam, you've been my friend for years just tell me”

He smiled “Those three days were the best of my life. Those memories kept the ones from the cage from winning out. I've wanted you for years, you're beautiful and an amazing hunter and everything I could ever want in a woman”

“Everything?” You asked with a small smile and he nodded “Everything” his eyes slipped down to your lips then back up “It meant something to me too. I don't care who else I slept with when I was soulless, you're the one I would want to spend the rest of my life with. You're the one who knows me inside and out. You're the one who has been a constant in mine and Dean's lives. Always popping up when we need you and I know had we not lied to get you on the other coast you would've been front row fighting against Lucifer and Michael too. You're sitting here in ducky pajamas and a scooby doo shirt and it's taking every ounce of strength I have to not kiss you right now”

—----------

You couldn't believe your ears. It was everything you'd wanted him to say and more. “Are you sure?” You asked and he dropped his head forward, pressing his forehead against yours “Baby what can I do to prove it to you?” “Kiss me” you whispered and that was all it took.

He surged forward, cupping your face in his hands as his lips met yours. The kiss was bruising and hungry, the gentleness of his confession overwhelmed by the want you both felt for each other, memories of the nights spent in each other's arms charging the kiss.

Once the need for air pushed you away from each other he kissed down your jaw, turning your neck to give him access to more skin. His hands moved to your hips tugging forward until you crawled into his lap, straddling him.

The grip on your hips tightened as he pulled you down against him, rolling his hips so you could feel just what a kiss had done to him. He leaned back to look up at you,keeping one hand on your hip he used the other to push your hair back out of your face “Those other women were after you. When I woke up and you were gone I wanted to chase after you but Samuel was there and even soulless I knew I didn't want you anywhere around that man. It's been torture being so damn close to you and not being able to touch you, seeing you so relaxed around Dean and so tense around me. If you'll give me a chance, give us a chance I can be a good man. I can love you and protect you and never let those doubts worm their way into your head again”

You bit your lip and for a moment wanted to make him wonder but your resilience was only so strong. “I can give us a chance” the smile he gave you was so damn gorgeous it made your heart flip. You rolled your hips down against his and smiled innocently when his eyes got darker “We're at Bobby's. Dean's downstairs”

“Then I guess that's your job to keep me quiet then huh?” He grinned at your words “That you asking me for something princess?” Any other person would've gotten hit for calling you princess but from Sam? Christ it made heat roll through you “Lock the door and show me you want me”

He groaned lightly and moved you from his lap. Before you could blink he'd locked the door and was back at the bed, kneeling next to it and pulling you towards him. “I'm gonna make you feel good sweetheart but no matter how much I love the way you sound we gotta be quiet. If you get too loud I can't make you come”

You clenched your thighs together at his words. Fuck, the effect this man had on you. “That ok baby?” You nodded and he shook his head, hands on the waistband of your lounge pants “Words baby” “I'll be quiet Sam I promise” he grinned “Let's see if you can keep that promise"

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction

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lila-lou · 2 months

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 8/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! - bit of smut, Soldier Boy being a dick, drunk Reader, Language, jealousy

Word Count: 4344

A/N: This is part 8 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The next few weeks passed without any significant incidents. While you kept arresting a few renegade supes, there was still no sign of Homelander. Sure he still appeared in public regularly, but it seemed like he was always one step ahead of you. Before you arrived he was already gone. As if he had vanished into thin air.

When Vought announced two weeks ago that Homelander would be busy reorganizing the Seven for the next few weeks, Butcher and his team waited a few days to see if there's actually no news around him. When nothing happened, Butcher had decided to give you all a well-deserved, albeit short, break.

Butcher stayed at home with MM. The two of them just wanted to have a few days of peace and, like old times, brighten up their evenings with a lot of alcohol before MM's daughter came to visit.

Frenchie surprised Kimiko with a trip to Paris and they haven't been heard from since they left. The two probably never got out of the hotel bed.

Annie traveled with Hughie to the mountains of Austria, where they rented a small wooden cabin. They wanted to hike, ski, get pampered at the spa, and just pretend to be a normal couple for a few days.

For your part, you had actually planned to visit your family, but since they were in the middle of moving, you decided against it at short notice. However, you didn't want to stay in the apartment either. You didn't want to crash Butcher and MM's men's group, nor did you want to constantly watch football games and trip over beer cans.

You didn't know what had come over you, but after everyone else had left and you had no idea what to do with your newfound free time, you argued with Ben for over 30 minutes, begging him to take you to Brazil. It had seemed like an eternity since you had sand beneath your feet, and after what you had done to Homelander, traveling to a foreign land alone wouldn't have been all that wise.

"Fine! But you'll leave me the fuck alone", Ben hissed before slamming the door to his room in your face.

Unfortunately, it became clear early, that going on vacation with Ben wasn't a good idea.

You've barely spoken to each other since the kiss. Your communication was limited to the essentials and, above all, to what was important for your job. Ben would never have admitted it, but you actually hurt him in some way with your actions. And although he couldn't explain it to himself, he felt even worse than after the Countess's betrayal.

You had been trying to apologize to him for days, but he just wouldn't listen to you. Even his favorite whiskey and a ridiculously expensive cigar couldn't calm him down.

At some point you just gave up.

The only problem, whatever the cause, was that you had now developed a crush on Ben. A damn major one.

It was harder now, to be ignored by him for weeks and watch him crawl deeper into his shell and become an even bigger asshole. But the worst part was, it was your fault.

“Fucking hurry up! I have to pee”, Ben banged on the bathroom door way too hard. It was your second Day in Brazil and way too early for that loud noise.

The two of you had a small beach house in a holiday resort right by the sea. It was beautiful and relatively quiet, but unfortunately only had one bathroom and one bedroom, so you slept on the couch and Ben chased you out of the bathroom for the second time in a row.

“Give me 5 please”, you whined, getting out of the shower.

But Ben had absolutely no nerv to negotiate with you. With a strong tug he pushed the door open. You had just enough time to wrap your towel around yourself before he came running towards you, finger raised. Despite the fact that the vacation was supposed to be relaxing for both of you, Ben's temper hadn't nearly disappeared by the second day.

“If I say I have to pee, then I have to fucking pee. Fucking now, not in five minutes!”, he hissed, his finger in front of your face as he looked down at you. His gaze briefly flickered to your breasts, but found your gaze again as you pulled your towel tighter, your cheeks red. “I know you’re fucking old, but I didn’t thought you had problems with your bladder yet”, you answered him cheekily.

“Fucking old, huh?”, he raised an eyebrow and lowered his finger. “Maybe I should teach you some manners, fucking brat”, he cups your jaw in one hand and gently but firmly pushes your face upwards.

“Such a dirty mouth on such a pretty face”, he muttered almost absently as he examined your face.

A few weeks ago your thoughts would have been completely different, but now you wanted nothing more than for him to just kiss you again.

For almost two weeks, the anger you felt towards yourself and the whole situation with Ben was so present that whenever the two of you ever exchanged a word, your responses were always bitchy and sassy. Five days ago you even managed to get him to blow up because of you, like literally.

“Get your dirty hand off me”, you hissed as you collected yourself.

“Sure Sweetheart”, he innocently raised both hands in the air, winked at you and turned to the toilet. Shameless as always, he pulled down his sweatpants and boxers a little and peed right in front of you.

You couldn't take your eyes off him for a while as you looked at his best piece. Reluctantly, your mouth went dry as you saw his size.

Of course Ben felt your gaze, but said nothing, instead enjoying your attention to the fullest, as well as your speechlessness. Ben knew he had a lot to offer and your reaction was pretty much identical to the one he usually got from women. The difference was that right now, his dick wasn't even hard.

It wasn't until he flushed the toilet that you were snapped out of your, more than dirty, thoughts. “Can I please get ready now? I’m hungry and want to eat breakfast”, you grumbled, tightening your grip on your towel.

Ben just rolled his eyes and washed his hands, leaving you alone in the bathroom.

The rest of the morning passed without further fights and ended in a relaxing afternoon by the pool.

With his legs crossed and his phone in his hand, Ben looked sideways at you as you lay on the lounger next to him, unzipping your bikini, to get your upper body tanned without streaks. You lay on your stomach, which is why everything important was covered anyway. Still, Ben obviously had a problem with it.

However, as you turned on your side, your bikini top hanging over the armrest of your lounger, Ben raised his glasses and looked incredulously at your back, which you turned to him.

“You fucking serious?”, he hissed at you.

“What?”, you turned onto your back so he had a perfect view of your bare chest as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. In fact, you had absolutely no ulterior motives at that moment, you just wanted to tan pretty much everything you could.

You could hear him take a sharp breath to calm himself before he spoke. “The pool is full of fucking wanker and you take off your fucking clothes? You're fucking flaunting yourself like a fucking little slut". As soon as he finished his sentence, he had already thrown his towel over your upper body.

You raised an eyebrow when you saw the more than annoyed expression on his face.

“And why do you have a damn problem with that?”. While you waited to see how Ben would react, you folded your arms over the towel.

Ben opened his mouth to tell you why you shouldn't be half-naked here by the pool, but it wasn't just the blood loss in his head caused by the tantalizing sight of your perfect breasts that thwarted his plans; simply the lack of a proper reason.

Why did it actually bother him? After all, you weren't his girlfriend. He also didn't give a shit about his image right now, so he didn't have to worry about being seen like that with you. So why did your actions trigger him so much?

"Just…just get fucking dressed", he grumbled, jaw clenched, pushing his sunglasses back into place as he tried to ignore his almost painful erection in his trunks.

With an annoyed groan, you decided to follow his instructions, as you had absolutely no nerve for another unnecessary and nerve-wracking argument with him. “Yeah, whatever”, you grumbled to yourself before turning back to your cocktail.

The next time Ben looked at you from his phone, he noticed that you had fallen asleep. He rolled his eyes, stood up, pulled an parasol over your lounger and looked around. Slowly but surely he was getting bored and no one wanted Soldier Boy to be bored.

It didn't take long before he had the prospect of a nice pastime. Less than five feet away from him sat two absolutely hot, young blondes whose eyes were staring at him lustfully. Ben knew that they would be absolutely easy. Confident and full of himself, he walked towards the two girls, while you fell further and further behind in his thoughts.

About two hours later, you slowly woke up from your restful nap. You had to blink a few times before you could look away from the now setting sun. “Ughhh”, you grumbled and stretched. Your eyes wandered to the parasol, which was no longer of any use, but still made you smile briefly. Ben must have set it up for you.

You ran your hand through your hair and looked around. The pool and bar were starting to get emptier and if you looked at your phone you knew why. Most people probably just ate dinner.

You stayed on the lounger for a while, wondering where Ben had gone and whether he would show up again soon. As he still wasn't back after about 20 minutes, you figured he was definitely drinking somewhere and decided to take a shower before starting dinner. After packing your things, you walked towards your little beach house, weak in the knees and feeling like you were walking on clouds. It was by far one of the most relaxing afternoons ever and you almost felt full of energy.

When you entered the house and heard some intense noises, you didn't want to go any further. You should have just left the house again.

Nevertheless, your feet carried you to the bedroom door.

The scene in front of you unfolded with an intensity that bordered on primal. Ben's movements were relentless as he pounded into a blonde, young girl, his hips driving forward with a fervor fueled by raw desire. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed in the air, punctuated by the moans of pleasure that spilled from the lips of all three. Meanwhile, the woman beneath Ben's skilled touch was lost in ecstasy, her body arching with each thrust, her red nails digging into the sheets as waves of pleasure washed over her. But even as she surrendered to the pleasure coursing through her veins, her lips found purchase elsewhere, trailing kisses along the curves of the other girl’s body, laying with spread legs in front of her. The other woman, lost in the throes of passion, arched her back as the sensation of warm lips and skilled tongue danced across her skin. Pleasure rippled through her body, building with each flick of the tongue, each gentle nip of teeth. Her hands tangled in the sheets as she surrendered to the intoxicating sensation, her moans mingling with those of her companions in a symphony of lust.

As you stood in the doorway, frozen in shock, a whirlwind of emotions tore through you with dizzying force. The sight of Ben entwined with two women ignited a fierce storm of jealousy, its flames licking at the edges of your composure. Your heart hammered painfully against your ribs, each beat echoing the ache of longing and desire you had buried deep within.

As your eyes met Ben's, a surge of heat flooded your cheeks, betraying the tumult of emotions raging within you. His smirk, equal parts charming and mischievous, sent a shiver down your spine, but it was his bold invitation that jolted you back to reality. "You wanna join?". His words hung in the air, as he watched you with an intensity that made your heart race even faster.

With a forced smile that barely masked the ache in your chest, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, "I think I'll pass".

Without waiting for his response, you turned on your heel, fleeing the room.

As you emerged into the sunlight, the salty breeze washed over you, offering a fleeting moment of respite from the storm raging within, you made your way back to the bar, the taste of bitterness lingered on your tongue, a reminder of the jealousy that gnawed at your insides. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the burden of your own conflicting emotions.

As you reached the bar, you sank onto a stool. With a weary sigh, you signaled the bartender, your voice barely above a whisper as you ordered a drink, anything to numb the ache in your heart. After the bartender set the drink before you, you wrapped your fingers around the glass, the cool condensation soothing against your trembling hands. With each sip, you felt the tension slowly ebb away, replaced by a numbness.

After a few too many drinks, you were feeling pleasantly buzzed, the world around you a blur of laughter and neon lights. With a carefree grin plastered on your face, you stumbled out of the bar, the cool night air a welcome relief against your flushed cheeks.

While you made your way back to the beach house, your steps were anything but steady, weaving a drunken dance along the sandy path. The stars above winked down at you, their twinkling lights adding to the whimsy of the night.

As you stumbled into the beach house, a wave of dizziness washing over you, you were greeted by the sight of Ben lounging on the couch, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He took a casual drag of the joint between his fingers, the smoke curling lazily around him. With a smirk playing on his lips, Ben reached for the small mirror on the coffee table, deftly arranging a few lines of coke with practiced precision.

As he leaned back against the cushions, his gaze fixed on you, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Hey there, sunshine", he drawled, his voice thick with amusement. "You look like you've had one too many. You smell like it, too".

You couldn't help but chuckle at his observation, the alcohol dulling the edge of embarrassment that threatened to creep in. "Guilty as charged", you replied with a playful wink, sinking into the nearest chair with a contented sigh.

As the night wore on and the alcohol continued to flow, the atmosphere between you and Ben grew increasingly charged.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, fueled by liquid courage, you couldn’t resist the urge to tease Ben about what you had seen earlier. “So, Soldier Boy”, you began, your words slurring slightly as you leaned in closer, “those two… girls in the bedroom earlier… quite the party, huh?”.

Ben’s demeanor shifted instantly, his playful expression darkening slightly. “Mind your own fucking business, sweetheart”, he growled.

But fueled by alcohol and a stubborn streak a mile wide, you pressed on, emboldened by the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. “Come on, Ben” you persisted, your words tumbling out in a drunken torrent. “I thought you were all about having a good time. Or is it only fun when it’s on your terms?”

With a grin, you leaned in closer, the scent of alcohol lingering on your breath as you teased him further. "Oh, come on, Ben", you taunted, your words dripping with sarcasm. "Don't be such a prude. I'm sure you've got some juicy details to share".

Ben's jaw clenched visibly, his fists tightening at his sides as he struggled to rein in his temper. But despite the anger burning bright in his eyes, there was a hint of curiosity lurking beneath the surface, a desire to play along with your dangerous game.

"Fine", he bit out, his voice tight with barely-contained frustration. "You want to know how it went down? I'll tell you". His words were sharp.

But instead of backing down, you leaned in closer, your gaze locked with his as you egged him on, your own jealousy bubbling just beneath the surface. "Go on, then", you challenged, your voice dripping with false bravado. "I'm all ears". And as Ben launched into the sordid details of his escapades with the two women, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy gnawing at your insides. But fueled by a potent mix of desire and defiance, you pushed aside your own insecurities, determined to play the game until the bitter end.

"Hmm, sounds like you had a blast", you remarked casually, your tone deceptively light as you leaned back in your chair, feigning indifference. "I guess those girls were lucky to have you for the night".

Ben's gaze flickered with surprise at your response. But before he could respond, you rose from your seat with a playful sway, the alcohol lending a buoyancy to your movements.

As you made your way to the bathroom, you couldn't resist one final jab, your words echoing through the room with a hint of mischief. "Oh, and Ben", you called out over your shoulder, your voice teasing and light-hearted, "next time, try not to settle for such cheap thrills. You could do so much better than those two bimbos". With that, you entered the bathroom to undress.

As you fumbled with the zipper of your dress, struggling to free yourself from its confines, you were startled by the sound of Ben's voice behind you. Leaning against the doorframe with a predatory glint in his eyes, he watched you with a mixture of amusement and desire.

"Having a bit of trouble there, sweetheart?", he teased, his voice thick with innuendo as he sauntered closer, his gaze never leaving your form. "Need a hand?".

Despite the alcohol coursing through your veins, a shiver of awareness shot through you at his proximity, your skin prickling with anticipation. With a playful roll of your eyes, you shot back, "I can handle it, thanks".

But Ben wasn't deterred by your feigned indifference, his smirk widening as he closed the distance between you. "You know", he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, "I'd much rather be fucking that tight little pussy of yours right now. But since you won't let me, I guess I'll have to settle for something else, even if it's cheap".

His words sent a thrill of desire coursing through you, your cheeks flushing with heat at the raw intensity of his confession. Despite your better judgment, you couldn't deny the pull of attraction that simmered between you, a potent mixture of longing and forbidden desire.

With a playful swat to his chest, you shot him a coy grin over your shoulder. "Dream on, Soldier Boy", you teased. "You'll have to try a lot harder than that to win me over".

As Ben closed the gap between you, his fingers brushed against the zipper of your dress, a bold gesture that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. With a swift motion, he pulled the zipper down, the fabric of your dress falling to the ground, revealing your perfectly young body clad only in lace panties, your breasts bare beneath the sheer fabric.

A smirk played on Ben's lips as he took in the sight before him, his gaze roaming hungrily over your exposed skin. "Well, well, well", he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "Look what we have here. Seems like you were hiding quite the little treat under that dress of yours."

His words were laced with a hint of arrogance, a reminder of the power he wielded over you in this moment of vulnerability.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you shot him a grin, your own desire mirrored in the depths of your gaze. "Like what you see, Ben?", you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or is it too much for your fragile ego to handle?".

Ben's smirk widened at your challenge, his fingers tracing a path along the curve of your hip with tantalizing slowness. "Oh, I can handle it just fine, sweetheart", he replied, his voice thick with promise. "In fact, I think it's about time you found out just how much I can handle".

And with that, he pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss that left you breathless and wanting more. You found yourself too drunk and too overwhelmed to push him away. His kiss was demanding, lacking the tenderness you had hoped for, but the alcohol had already clouded your judgment.

Feeling his strength, Ben effortlessly lifted you, his supe abilities making you feel like a feather in his arms as he pressed you against the sink. The cold porcelain sent a shiver down your spine, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Ben's touch. You moaned softly as his lips moved against yours with a sense of entitlement, his hands exploring your body with possessiveness. Despite your hazy state, a part of you couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with the way he was handling you, but you were too lost in the moment to protest.

"Finally getting a taste of what you've been missing, huh?", Ben murmured between kisses. "You should have given in sooner, sweetheart".

His words stung, a reminder of the power dynamic at play between you.

As Ben's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses and lingering marks, you squirmed in his grasp, a mixture of pleasure and discomfort coursing through you. His actions were rough and possessive.

"Ben", you slurred, your voice barely a whisper as you struggled to form coherent thoughts. "What are you doing?".

But Ben paid no heed to your question, his lips finding their way to your collarbone as he continued to trail kisses along your skin. With a grunt, he lifted you effortlessly, his strength making you feel like a ragdoll in his arms. As he carried you towards the bedroom, you could feel his arousal pressing against you, a reminder of the desires that drove him. Despite your intoxicated state, a sense of unease gnawed at the pit of your stomach, a voice in the back of your mind warning you of the dangers ahead.

"Relax, sweetheart", Ben murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "I'm just showing you a good time".

His words sent a chill down your spine. But as Ben's lips crashed against yours once more, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the heat of the moment, the alcohol dulling your senses and clouding your judgment.

As Ben threw you onto the bed with a force that bordered on roughness, you let out a startled gasp, the impact sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body..

His eyes blazing with hunger as he rid himself of his shirt, revealing the sculpted contours of his chest. He hovered over you, his gaze intense and hungry, as he trailed kisses down your chest, his lips leaving a fiery trail in their wake. Your breath hitched in your throat as pleasure surged through you, a quiet moan escaping your lips at his touch.

"Mmm, that's it", Ben murmured. "Let me hear you".

With a satisfied smirk, Ben continued his exploration, his hands roaming freely over your body. His lips trailing lower, igniting sparks of pleasure with every kiss.

Just as Ben's lips reached the hem of your panties, you abruptly grabbed his wrist, pulling him up to meet your gaze with a frustrated growl.#

"What?", Ben asked, his tone tinged with annoyance as he met your gaze.

"Be gentle", you slurred. "Please, Ben", you begged, your voice trembling with vulnerability. "Just this once".

Ben's suspicion grew as he registered your unusual request. "What's the big deal?", he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration. "You've never been shy about what you want before".

You hesitated, feeling exposed and vulnerable beneath his scrutinizing gaze. "I've never… done this before", you admitted, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Ben's eyes widened in realization, a smirk playing on his lips as he pieced together the puzzle. "Ah, I see", he remarked, his tone laced with amusement. "Virgin territory, huh? Well, aren't I lucky".

With your inhibitions dulled by alcohol, you found yourself unable to protest, resigned to whatever fate awaited you.

As Ben began to pull down your panties, a smirk played on his lips as he watched your slick folds glisten in the dim light of the room. "Looks like you're more than ready for me, princess", he murmured.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 I loved this Chapter ._.

Part 9

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @kaz11283 @uncle-eggy

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #smut

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flowercrowngods · 2 months

Text

why must i think of prisoners Ranger!Steve and Bard!Eddie so constantly and why must they be so tender and why hhhh

Steve’s whole body is made of pain, and has been for the past few days. His feet are aching and raw from trying to keep up as they were bound to horses and dragged along. His skin is chafed and bleeding where the unforgiving rocks have managed to destroy his clothes after one too many falls, and every smallest of cuts feels like his body is nothing more than a pulsating mess.

Worst of all, though, is the dizziness. He doesn’t know if his head is still bleeding or if the wetness he can feel running down his temple is his body’s testament to the unfamiliar heat, but it wouldn’t make a difference anyway.

There’s only pain. And nausea. His eyes are open but he needs a second to understand what he’s seeing — and what he’s seeing is a ceiling made of sand coloured stone. Distantly, he hears a door clanging shut, but that might just as well be a memory.

He’s going to throw up. Tough luck when you don’t even know where up is.

A groan leaves his mouth as he tries to take a deep breath and fails miserably. Instead, he can add two broken ribs to the list of misery.

Gods above — whichever of them are listening — he’s tired. But he fears that if he closes his eyes, he might not open them anymore for the sheer release that would bring. He can’t sleep, can’t rest, not when—

“Easy now,” a gentle voice interrupts his less than coherent thoughts and just moments later, a tender hand is combing through his blood-crusted hair. “You shouldn’t move, my friend. There’s nowhere to move to anymore.”

Steve frowns, his brain trying and failing to provide any information at this point. The hits to his head must have been worse than he thought if his short term memory refuses to work with him anymore.

“We have reached Capital City,” the voice continues and Steve has to blink the fog away to make out its owner. When he does, it must show in his eyes, for the worry in Theodore Munson’s eyes makes way to the briefest of smiles before returning even stronger than before. “Do you not recall?”

Steve just stares up at him. That’s all his wrecked body and mind allow him to do right now. That’s all they want to do when gentle hands comb through his hair and chase away some of the pain.

It is then that reality slowly comes back to him and he realises where he is. Where they are. What is at stake if they fail any more, if they decide to torture information on Elanor and William out of them — out of him. He’s not sure how much he can take. They have been held prisoner for weeks. Steve has been hurting for even longer.

Shame rises in him and he has the urge to apologise to Jim, to explain, but moving his head to the side, he sees that his old master isn’t any better off. He appears to be sleeping, his face bruised, and a teary-eyed Maxine is wiping blood away from his face with a piece of her cloak.

Steve blinks once, twice, and takes in the man who practically raised him, watches the steady rise and fall of his chest and listens, beyond the pulsing rush of his own blood, that his lungs are not rattling. Shame makes way to satisfaction when he sees that none of their party has taken as many hits, kicks and punches as himself. His distractions have worked, then.

That’s good. Now if only they didn’t make him so nauseous. So tired. So…

“Don’t fall asleep, Steven,” Eddie demands, and the world tilts slightly, which makes everything worse until… soft. It’s softer now.

Eddie has moved him so his head is resting in his lap now.

“You don’t look too good, Ranger. Sleep is dangerous in your state, no matter how badly you might need it. Give it a few hours, please.”

A beat passes where Steve tries to process the words that are just too many. Since when does Eddie talk with him so much?

“Lies,” he says after a while and with greater effort than should be necessary.

“Lies?”

“I look very good. You just can’t see it under all the blood and the bruises.” He tries to crack a smile, but even the huffed breath jolts his head too much.

Eddie does him the favour of a brief chuckle, and Steve feels better for it. Lighter. Light is good, he finds. Maybe all he has to focus on is Eddie and his hands working out the clumps of dirt and blood from his hair, maybe all he has to to is make him smile and the world will be a bit less painful.

His world narrows down to all the ways Eddie is close to him and it does keep him occupied, but it also gets his mind wandering, the adrenaline of the past days wearing off.

“Keep doing that and I will fall asleep,” he says after another beat of silence. Fall asleep and dream. Dream of what this could mean. Dream of smiles that make me feel lighter.

“Keep doing what?” Eddie asks, and Steve senses a trick to just keep him talking, no matter how slurred his speech is. He needs a moment to remember what he said.

“This,” he says eventually, and Eddie only hums. Finding words is hard. He tries. And tries again. “Being gentle.”

Another smile, and Steve wants to close his eyes to keep it there to hold on to. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, my friend.”

“Can’t not be gentle?” He’s losing force on the consonants. The pain is getting stronger, his nerve endings more frayed and his vision blurry. This is familiar. He gives himself another quarter of an hour at most before he will lose his consciousness, no matter how hard he tries to stay here. With Eddie and his wavering smile.

“Not with my friends, no.”

This time it’s Steve who smiles at the word friends. He likes to be Eddie’s friend. The man, as it turns out, is admirable, he’s strong, he’s wise when he wants to be and gentle with young Maxine. He’s kind, he’s quick-witted and patient, and his hands are impossibly soft.

“I know you said not to sleep, and I’m not normally one to deny a well-respected bard’s command, but…” He swallows. Words are hard. He’s not sure they come out as planned, but he perseveres. “I’m afraid I have to prove to you now just how stubborn the Queen’s Rangers can be.”

Another hum from above him and Steve opens his eyes he hadn’t even noticed closing. The world is fading, but still Eddie is at its centre.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, then, stubborn Ranger.”

Will you smile at me still? Steve wonders.

“Always,” Eddie says, but before Steve has time to wonder if someone else has said something, darkness has swallowed him whole.

#steddie fic #steddie #also steve and hop are soft in this one honestly just ask me to post the whole 4.6k thing and i will but it doesn't have a beginning or end #we just vibing like fr it's just steve whump and everyone being gentle on him and also some humour for kindness #no taglist for this bc it isn't even a thing but man i keep thinking about them why must all my aus be so weird and niche?

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writingwithciara · 2 months

Text

He Never Will ~Jack Hughes~

summary: jack loves his best friend and only wants to protect her from the worlds shittiest boyfriend

word count: 3.6k

pairing: jack hughes x reader, reader x shitty boyfriend

notes: based off the song by alexander stewart (my birthday twin 💕). i've recently become obsessed with this song & haven't put anything out for jack yet so i figured i'd write this for him [TW: toxic relationship with abuse]

masterlist

jack was in love with his best friend. it was cliche and he knew it but he didn’t care. the only thing he cared about was making sure she didn’t find out.

her boyfriend could tell though. he saw the way jack looked at y/n & he hated hearing him talk about her to other people as if he was the one dating her.

it was like a game to hunter though. well, more of a test really.

he had suspicions that y/n was into jack so every once in a while, he would pick a fight with her just to see if she ran crying to jack. and most of the time, she did.

when she didn’t run to her best friend, she would run to his brother or the captain of his hockey team. but to hunter, it didn't matter who she ran to. The point was that she ran to another guy and he didn't like it.

but she always went back to him, no matter how bad he treated her and jack hated that. he knew she deserved better and he wanted to be the one she chose. jack wanted her to stay on one of the many nights she ran to him.

but she never did.

if he don't know what he's got now, he never will

it was the night before jack was supposed to head up to toronto for the all-star game when y/n came back to his place.

the tears were pouring down her face as jack let her into his apartment without a word. he could never bring himself to say i told you so, especially not when she was in such a vulnerable state.

a few minutes of silence passed as they sat on the end of his bed before jack spoke up.

"so what happened tonight?"

"i don't even really know. i got home from work and he was in the middle of trashing my apartment. he said something about me not being faithful to him, which is total bullshit. and i know we have our fights and shit on a daily basis, and that's alright. but tonight felt different. like if i had stayed any longer, maybe he would've hit me or something."

jack looked at her face for any sign of a mark, fearing that she may have been hiding something from him. but there was nothing so he let it slide.

"i'm gonna take you home and i want you to pack a bag as quickly as you possibly can."

"why?" she wiped her eyes and looked at jack.

"you're coming with me to toronto."

"are you nuts? that's only going to make this worse, jack."

"i'm going to be gone for a week and there's no way in hell that i'm leaving you alone with him for that long with no guarantee of safety."

"i'll still have nico. and luke even."

"please just do this for me? i'm worried about leaving you with hunter. i swear the kid's just begging to get his ass beat."

"jack, if i promise to go with you to toronto, will you promise to try to get along with hunter when we get back?"

"y/n, i've already tried. he's a lost cause honestly."

"can we not have this conversation again? i'm tired of hearing it." y/n sighed with frustration and stood up. she began to pace around jack's room.

"until you see how much better you are than hunter, i'm gonna keep bringing it up. and the fact that you've heard it more than once should be enough to tell you something!" jack raised his voice but regretted it immediately when y/n started to cry. "please just listen to me okay? look, i care about you and i only want what's best for you. i'm not trying to make you feel bad or anything. i'm sorry if i upset you." jack pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back as she sobbed.

y/n cried for a good 10 minutes before she finally spoke again.

"i'm not upset with you, jack. i could never be. i'm upset with myself because i know i shouldn't be with someone like hunter but i love him so much and i can't just walk away from that." she looked up at jack and smiled when he wiped her tears away. "please don't hate me for staying with him."

"i could never ever hate you. i hope you know that." he rubbed her back soothingly. "and although i don't support you staying with him, i'm always here if you need me and i'm never ever leaving your side, okay?"

"okay." y/n nodded with a shy smile.

"so, will you please come to toronto with me?"

jack and y/n ended up meeting up with luke and nico before the boys took y/n back o her apartment to get her stuff. luckily for them, hunter was nowhere to be found.

y/n packed a bag quickly and left a little note for hunter. jack didn't agree with that idea, fearing hunter would come find her and do something terrible. but luke and nico assured him that y/n would be safe with them while at the game.

the 4 of them got in the car and were on the plane in no time. y/n took the window seat and jack sat next to her.

"what's going on in your mind?"

"part of me just...i don't know...i feel a little bad for hunter. maybe he's only like this because he didn't get a whole lot of positive attention growing up."

"don't feel bad for that piece of shit, y/n. he doesn't deserve you. and his lack of positive attention is no excuse for the way he treats you. i really hope you understand that someday." jack sighed and changed the topic.

for the rest of the flight, nico did most of the talking while luke did everything he could to keep a smile on y/n's face, even if it was only a small one. he accepted it either way.

when they got to the hotel they were staying at, the lady at the front desk gave them 2 keys. jack handed one to y/n and the group went up to their rooms. y/n wasn't a fan of being alone but at least the boys were just next door if she needed them.

the first night in toronto was not great. y/n woke up from a nightmare screaming and she couldn't bring herself to stop crying. jack heard her scream and was in her room in seconds. his heart broke when he saw the state she was in so he stayed with her for the next two nights.

on draft day, y/n was sitting with nico and luke as they watched the event unfold. she excused herself to use the bathroom and while she was gone, her phone buzzed in her seat.

it was a series of texts from hunter. nico and luke took it upon themselves to respond.

the two boys shared a look before y/n returned. she noticed their weird behavior and raised an eyebrow.

"you weirdos doing alright?"

"yeah. never better." nico lied and turned his attention back to the draft.

"hunter texted you while you were in the bathroom and we answered him."

"luke!" nico shot his teammate a look before looking over at y/n beside him.

"what did you guys do that for?" y/n opened her phone and went through the messages. "i could've handled it, you guys."

"we're all tired of him treating you like you mean nothing to him. that's not how you deserve to be treated." luke sighed.

"we're sorry, y/n." nico sighed. "we just love you so much."

"i'm not sorry."

"luke!" nico shot him another glare and rolled his eyes.

"i'm sorry, okay? but it had to be said. y/n deserves better than what she has and if you guys want to tell me different, then go right ahead. but we all know the truth." luke sighed. y/n placed her hand on his shoulder and hugged him.

"i know you guys are looking out for me, and i love you for it. so much." y/n looked over at nico. "can you guys let jack know that i'm gonna head back to new jersey before hunter gets here? i need to go pack my stuff."

"are you leaving him?"

"yeah." she stood up and sighed. "i don't know where i'm gonna go though."

"crash at jack's. you know he won't mind."

"yeah because he's in love with her." luke chuckled, earning another glare and a wide-eyed expression from y/n.

"that's supposed to be a secret, luke."

"oh, my bad. i thought she knew."

"that's a conversation for another day. i got something to focus on right now. but i won't forget you told me." y/n kissed luke's head and gave nico a hug before heading back to the hotel to pack. she left a note for jack because she knew the boys would forget to tell him.

when everything was done, y/n found herself back on the plane to new jersey.

the flight wasn't long but it gave her some time to think about what luke told her. she was shocke but everything was hitting her all at once.

had jack always felt this way?

when the plane landed, y/n got in the first cab she could find and headed to her apartment. as the car approached the building, y/n was suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread. she didn't want to end up running into hunter on the off chance he hadn't actually gone to toronto.

she slowly unlocked the front door and made her way inside. when there was no sign of hunter, y/n let out a sigh of relief before making her way to the bedroom.

she grabbed her suitcase and started throwing all her clothes into it. unfortunately, she only made it through half her clothes before she heard the door open and close. she tried to hide the fact that she was leaving but hunter entered the room before she could do anything.

"why would you feel the need to lie about where you were going?"

"you wouldn't have let me go support my best friends, hunter. i had no other choice. lying was my only option. plus i needed a damn break."

"what could you have possibly needed a break from?"

"from you. you're constantly keeping track of my whereabouts and you won't let me spend any time with my friends. the only time i get to see jack is whenever you start some pointless argument and drive me away for a night. it's getting to the point where i need to put my own mental health above everything."

"what the fuck are you trying to say?"

"i'm leaving, hunter. this is too much." y/n went to grab her bag but hunter gripped her wrist firmly.

"you're not going anywhere."

"let me go!"

"you're not going anywhere." he repeated, this time with emphasis on each word.

"i swear to god, if you don't let me go, i'll-"

"you'll what? call jack to come rescue you like always? well you can't. he's in toronto and i-"

at this point, y/n was tired of him and his comments about jack. she reached for the nearest object and swung it at his arm. hunter released his grip on her and before he could grab her again, she grabbed her suitcase and used it to keep some distance between them.

"i'll be back for my other stuff later."

"whatever, bitch."

y/n rolled her eyes and hurried out of the apartment. when she got in her car, she broke down and facetimed jack.

he picked up with a smile but it disappeared when he saw her tears.

"what happened? why did you go back to jersey?"

"i thought hunter was gonna be in toronto...and i figured i'd take that opportunity to come home and pack my stuff & leave the apartment. but he came home and...." y/n began to sob harder. "he hurt me, jack. hs grabbed my arm and it hurts so much. i don't know why i'm calling you when there's nothing you can do about it now."

"bullshit. i'm getting on the next flight home and i'm going to kick that douchebag's ass."

"jack, you're a captain of an all star team. you can't leave. quinn needs you there."

"but you need me there more." jack moved around the hotel room to pack his bag. "besides, quinn has elias and if he really needs another hughes, luke is here too. plus, i can't even compete in the all-star game so there's really no point in me being here."

"but this is important to you, jack."

"y/n, you are more important than any hockey game, all-star or not. you are my best friend and i'm going to be there for you when you need me to be." he looked at his laptop. "i'll be home in about 5 hours, okay?"

"okay." y/n sniffled and wiped her eyes. "is it alright if i-"

"of course you can stay with me. you don't even have to ask." jack smiled softly at the girl on his screen. "want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"please? i mean, if you don't mind." y/n propped her phone in the holder and began driving to jack's apartment.

"anything for you. you know that." jack kept y/n on the phone while he knocked on luke and nico's door. luke answered and smiled at his brother.

"hey. what's up?"

"i'm heading home. y/n needs me."

"just how in love with her are you?" luke smirked, not even realizing that y/n's face was on jack's screen and she could hear everything.

"dude, she's on the phone." jack's eyes darted down to his phone and back to luke's, whose eyes only widened when he realized.

"cat's out of the bag. oops." luke went to shut the door. "good luck, jack."

luke shut the door completely and jack looked back at his phone.

"for the record, luke is an idiot and i wouldn't listen to anything he says ever."

"never do." y/n smiled. jack returned the smile and couldn't help but stare at her as he headed down to the lobby to hail a cab.

"i won't be able to talk to you while i'm on the flight but i'll call you when i land, okay?"

"okay." y/n pulled into the parking lot of jack's building and got out. as she made her way into the apartment, part of her felt relieved. it felt like she was home.

"alright. the flight is boarding but i'll make sure to call you when i land. help yourself to anything in the apartment. there's some bath bombs and bubble bath at the back of my closet in case you want to take a nice, relaxing bath."

"thanks again, jack. for everything. i really appreciate you. have a safe flight."

"i will. love you."

"love you too." y/n smiled and hung up. she made her way into jack's room and pulled the bath stuff out from his closet. she ran the water for her bath and put on some calming music while also lighting a few candles. she put the cotton candy bath bomb in the water and when it was filled, she got in.

she hadn't even been paying attention to the time when jack got home. he stumbled in through the door with a busted lip and a shiny black eye.

"jesus christ. what the hell happened to you?"

"i'm sorry. i know you don't like it when i get violent off the ice, but i had to stop at hunter's before i came home. he hurt you so i hurt him. tit for tat i guess."

"how bad did you hurt him?"

"pretty bad. he's like 10 times worse than me right now."

"you didn't have to do that for me, jack." y/n looked at the cut on his lip. "now let's go clean up your lip and see if we can do something about that eye." y/n grabbed his hand and brought him to the bathroom. she sat him on the edge of the tub and grabbed a rag from the bin, running it under some warm water.

jack watched her every move intently, afraid that if he looked away, she would fade into a memory.

y/n wiped the dried blood from his face and started looking through her own bag for something to heal the black eye faster.

"you know, i don't hate it when you get violent off the ice, especially when it's to defend me. kinda think it's hot that you would put yourself in the way of violence if you're protecting me." she applied a cream to his left eye and placed a gentle kiss just below the bruise. when she pulled away from his face, she made eye contact with him. "i love you but can you please stop getting into fights?"

"thought you found it hot when i did." jack smirked.

"i do. but i also don't like seeing you get hurt." y/n ran her hands through his hair slowly while his hands held her waist. he tugged her closer and hugged her tightly.

"you're truly a blessing and i hate that hunter could never realize what he had."

"hopefully he realizes what he had now that he's lost it."

"you would never go back to him again, would you?" jack moved his had from his resting spot on her stomach and looked up at her.

"and leave you? no chance in hell will that ever happen." y/n knelt down to be at eye level with him.

there was something about the way he was looking at her that made her feel like they were alone in the world.

jack looked at her and he swore his heart began to beat faster. her gaze was focused on his lips and she tried to look away but she couldn't.

when jack's thumb reached up to draw delicate circles on her cheek, she knew she was screwed.

for years she was telling herself that she didn't have feelings for jack but here they were now, in the bathroom, sharing an intimate moment.

the feelings hit her hard and before she knew it, she was pulling jack in for a gentle kiss. when she tried to pull away, jack held her cheeks and poured everything into the kiss.

by the time the kiss ended, they were both out of breath and their faces were red. jack had a playful smirk on his face as he admired y/n's features.

"you are so incredibly beautiful, y/n. can't believe hunter would treat you so badly."

"how about we stop talking about that asshole & instead focus on this?" she gestured between them and smirked. "i love you and i'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."

"i'm sorry i never told you how i felt." jack continued to hold onto her face while y/n held his arms. "in case it's not obvious now, i do actually love you. but how could i not? i mean you are the most incredible human being & definitely the most precious person i've ever known. you are perfect in every way and i will spend the rest of my life showing you how you deserve to be loved. i-if that's alright with you."

"you are all i want and all i need jack. forever and always, since forever." she wrapped her pinky around his and smiled. a simple gesture that's been part of their lives since they were 9 but they loved it because it meant more to them than anyone could ever know.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #nhl x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #new jersey devils #jh86

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daytaker · 3 months

Note

Oh! Oh! Spin the bottle with Mammon for the followers event!~

Thank you for your prompt, and sorry for the delay! Writer's block has been killing me but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Enjoy this little Mammon x reader drabble!

Spin the Smartphone

Mammon x Reader Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1154 CW: Nothing, really.

[Part of my 250 Followers Mini Event!]

“Hey, how ‘bout a game of spin the bottle?”

Mammon made the suggestion, grinning at everyone. That is to say, grinning at Levi, Satan, Asmo, the twins, and you. You were all sitting in your room, trying to figure out what to do now that the Monopoly board was scorched after Satan’s brief burst of rage earlier. (He landed on Park Place again.)

“Ew,” was Levi’s response.

“Eh?” Mammon blinked.

“You do realize that if we did that, you’d have a 5 out of 6 chance to land on one of your brothers?” Satan asked, tilting his head with a small smirk.

“...EH?!”

“Seriously, how is our brother this stupid?” sighed Belphie.

“I ain’t stupid!” Mammon whined.

“Why can’t you just ask the human for a kiss instead of coming up with these convoluted excuses?” Satan rolled the Monopoly top hat between his fingers. “Are you really so full of yourself that you can’t admit that’s what you’re actually after?”

“W-What? Whaddaya mean ‘all these convoluted excuses’?! I said one thing!”

“Last week you wanted to try seven minutes in heaven,” sighed Asmo, shaking his head. “That was even worse.”

Levi laughed. “Not to mention all the times you’ve been like, ‘Guys! I have the best idea! Let’s play truth or dare!’ and then ‘Okay, Human, ask me truth or dare! I choose dare! Huh? …Can ya dare me something else? …Can ya dare me something else again?’ Lol!”

“He’s so obvious it makes me a little sad,” Beel added with a sorry frown.

You sat and listened to the exchange. They weren’t wrong, of course. You and Asmo had made a bit of a game of it; guessing what weird attempt at an excuse to kiss you Mammon might pull out next. Still, you weren’t completely heartless, and watching Mammon get dogpiled by his younger brothers wasn’t making you feel amazing, no matter how used to it he probably was.

So later that night, after you’d all agreed it was only fair that Satan should buy the replacement Monopoly board and the brothers had all cleared out, you pulled out your DDD and opened your texts.

> Hey. Mammon: Hey!!! Mammon: I mean, what’s up? > Could you come back to my room? I wanted to ask you about something.

Less than a minute later, there was a sudden, excited knock at your door. Mammon entered before you even invited him in and plopped down on the floor.

“So! Missin’ the Great Mammon already, eh? Can’t say I blame ya.”

“I have a proposition for you,” you announced, and you pulled a Demonus bottle from under your bed.

“I accept,” Mammon declared, snatching the bottle from your hands before you had a chance to get a word in edgewise. “...Hey, what the…? It’s empty!”

You took the bottle back and slipped onto the floor, facing Mammon. “We’re not drinking it, you doofus. We’re spinning it.”

You watched the gears turn in Mammon’s head in real time. He looked at you, then at the bottle, a complete lack of understanding on his face. Then his lips moved. You thought he mouthed the word “spin”, but you couldn’t be sure. He looked up at you again, decided that was a bit too intense, and returned to staring at the bottle as his cheeks turned red.

“Wait, you mean like…?”

“Spin the bottle. Yeah.”

Mammon looked around the room in an exaggerated fashion before raising a hand dismissively. “Uh, in case ya ain’t noticed, there’s only two of us here.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I’unno. ‘S meant to be a party game.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Finally, the last few gears seemed to click into place, and a look of recognition crossed Mammon’s face. “...Oh!”

“Yeah.”

You set the bottle down on the floor between the two of you. You both stared at it. Then you looked up at each other.

“You go first,” you said, and at the same time, Mammon said, “Uh, did you wanna–?”

Mammon gave it a spin. It was not an elegant spin either. The thing wobbled and rolled on its side and it took a few tries to get it to spin anything like how it always looked on TV.

When it stopped, it pointed unambiguously at the wall.

“Try it again,” you said.

He tried it again. This time it stopped facing your bed.

“You’re doing it wrong,” you sighed.

“The hell does that even mean?”

You ignored him and gave the bottle a spin. It went skating underneath the bed, and Mammon looked vindicated. “See? ‘S not that easy!”

Irritated to see your best made plans laid to waste, you opened up your DDD, typed a 🍾 emoji into the Notes app, and set the device down on the floor between you. You gave your device a little spin. This went far better than your last attempt, so you decided to quit while you were ahead.

Meanwhile, Mammon was attempting to decipher your actions. “The fuck is that?” he asked, squinting at the DDD.

“A bottle,” you answered with a shrug. “It’s pointing at you.”

Then you crawled across your wooden floor and pressed your lips against his, and Mammon just sort of tensed up and didn’t move, and it was awkward and kind of embarrassing and really nice. You hadn’t felt this much like a teenager since you were a teenager.

Once you crawled back to the far side of your DDD, he shook himself out of his fugue state and began protesting what had just occurred.

“H-Hey… Hey… Hey! Hey, hey, wait a second!” He seemed to be grasping at whatever he could to give himself an excuse for just how passive he was for that entire thing. “You said I could go first!”

“Spin better,” you shrugged.

“You spun worse than I did!”

“Creative solutions are rewarded.”

“...I see what’s goin’ on here,” Mammon said after a flustered pause. His confidence was suddenly back at full strength. “...You were just desperate for an excuse to kiss me, weren’t ya?”

You stared at him. Was this guy really trying to flip the scenario on its head?

“So desperate! Invitin’ me up here and pullin’ all this dumb crap with the bottle… Y’know, if ya really wanted a kiss, ya coulda just asked.” He was smirking now, smirking! “As my number one human, you should know ya always get special treatment, even when it comes to things like that. ‘Cause I’m so magnanimous and awesome and stuff.”

“Oh, Great Mammon,” you sighed, unsure if you found his schtick charming or irritating at the moment, “would you bless this poor mortal with a kiss?”

“N-Now you’re just gettin’ greedy!” Mammon scolded, cheeks flushing once again.

“Says the Avatar of Greed.”

“Exactly! I’d know!”

“Never mind then.”

“Ah, wait, wait, hold up.” Mammon grabbed the DDD that still laid on the floor between you. He gave it a spin. “Is that pointin’ at ya? Close enough, right? C’mere.”

#writing event #shywritersblog #ask response #250 followers event #i've got over 350 followers now and i still haven't gotten my fifth request for this event lmao #mc #mammon #demon brothers #fanfic #daytaker fanfic #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me x reader #obey me mammon x reader #fluff #obey me fanfic #just kinda silly #wholesome

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loveharlow · 2 months

Text

SEVEN - 004

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.9k] based on 1x04.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mild violence, detainment

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ The shortest and most boooooring chapter to date but it's for a reason :(. And to make up for it (and the late post). I'll post chapter 5 much earlier than intended (AND THAT'S THE MIDSUMMERS CHAPTER WOOO).

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

AND WITHIN MINUTES ALL THAT HOPE DIED. There was no gold. Just a shipwreck. The drone passed over the entire thing three times and nothing. The metal detector didn’t make a single sound.

“Just pull the damn thing up.” John B said, frustrated. “Somebody beat us to it.”

“Or it was never there.” JJ muttered, steering the boat back in the direction you’d come.

WAKING UP TO MARLEY LICKING YOUR FACE WASN’T AN UNCOMMON OCCURRENCE, you assumed it’d just felt so unfamiliar because of the fact that you hadn’t slept in your own bed the last few days since this whole gold rush started. You groaned, lightly pushing the dog away from you with your palm.

“I’m awake, Marls…” You groaned out sleepily, rolling off of your bed with a grunt as you hit the floor, your side still sore from the events of yesterday. The pain was mostly gone, all that remained being a tenderness and slight redness surrounding the area.

Rolling onto your back and sitting up, you pet the chipper animal as she snuggled up under you. “Jesus, your morning breath is worse than mine.” You said, face twisting. Reaching for your phone as you scratched the top of her head, you saw that it was close to noon, you sighed, getting up and walking downstairs to get your day started.

You were surprised to find your mother shifting through documents on the kitchen island when you got there, slowing in your steps. “Hey, mom…” You said, eyeing the woman as you opened the fridge to pull out the milk. She merely glanced up at you, before averting her eyes back down to the documents in front of her.

“Morning.” She muttered. You faced away from her, hearing the pen she was writing with hit the counter as you walked to the side and grabbed the cereal from the pantry. “Did you hear about Topper’s boat?”

You bit your lip, completely forgetting about that. Realizing you hadn't responded and stood frozen in place, you cleared your throat and continued making your breakfast. “No, what happened?” You asked, faking obliviousness and pouring the cereal into a bowl, now facing her again. She had the papers in her hands, reading glasses sitting low atop her nose as her eyes scanned the pages as she spoke.

“He and Mrs.Thornton found it sunken this morning. What a waste of money. I hear it was brand-new.”

“Yeah, well, it’s Topper.” You remembered, pouring the milk over the colorful pellets of food. “Him and his friends aren’t exactly known for being careful.” You muttered with disdain.

“Speaking of caution,” The woman began, clasping her hands in front of her. “I had an interesting meeting with Sheriff Peterkin and Shoupe. They said John B was being chased through town by some dangerous men earlier in the week and he apparently ran from his social worker when she went to pick him up this morning. Do you know what’s going on with him?”

“I don’t know, Mom, maybe the fact that his dad went missing and DCS has been trying to drop him into the system ever since?”

All she could do was sigh. “John B’s father is gone. It’s been almost a year. He needs to accept that and move on.”

“...He needs to just accept the fact that his dad is gone? Do you hear yourself, right now?”

“Listen, I don’t have the energy to argue with you, right now. If you see him or know where he is, it’d be very much appreciated if you could tell Shoupe or Peterkin so they can alert his social worker-”

You scoffed, looking your mother in her eyes. “I'm not doing that. You're crazy if you think I'm going to help you and your cop friends put one of my best friends into foster care-”

“Excuse me?” Your mother was baffled at your tone. But it seemed like everytime you came home recently, on the rare occasion that you did, she always had questions. Scratch questions, accusations. And in your mind, either she knew something or she just wanted reasons to be on your ass. “I don't know what's gotten into you recently. If your father could see you now-”

“No, mom,” You cut her off shortly. “If only he could see you.” You spat, making your way back up the stairs, bowl of cereal in hand, slamming the door behind you.

“AREN’T YOU GLAD I MADE YOU COME?” Kie asked cheerfully, carrying a cooler full of snacks and drinks while you laid out a blanket on top of the grass, JJ and Pope unfolding lawn chairs to sit in. Kie had rounded you all up to see a movie in the park with her. You’d already informed them of the reason for John B’s absence, seeing as this isn’t his first marathon from DCS. If he got away successfully, per usual, you all would be seeing him by tomorrow.

“My couch was pretty comfy, I’ll be honest.” JJ replied. While Kiara was preoccupied, Pope whispered to JJ, but you could still hear them.

“We are in enemy territory. Way out of the green zone, man.” He was visibly anxious, eyes fleeting all across the crowd of people that littered the lawn.

“Dude, tranquilo, okay?” JJ tried to calm him.

“We are in the middle of Kooklandia.” He hissed. “This is the last place I wanted to be.” He ranted, the two boys not even noticing when Kiara got up to go get drinks.

“Shut up. Both of you.” You reprimanded, sternly. “God, you have the worst poker faces I’ve ever seen.”

“They could be lurking in the bushes right now, we don’t know.” Pope tried to make you understand.

“Dude, just chill out.” JJ said. Just then, Kie had come back, four cans of soda in her arms that she distributed evenly amongst the group of you.

“Just saw Rafe,” The name alone sends a small wave of chills down your spine. “He said to ‘tell your girl that we know what she and your boy did’. What does that mean?” Her eyes fleeted towards you for the most part.

“Where is he?” You questioned without hesitation.

“Right there,” She motioned behind her, prompting you to whip your head around to where Topper, Rafe, and Kelce stood menacingly by a tree, sipping on beers. Even from that distance, you could tell he was staring dead at you. It brought back so many unwanted feelings and memories, so badly it made your head hurt.

“Great, the whole death squad.” Pope’s voice cracked.

“Hey,” Kiara’s voice called from beside you, just loud enough for only you to hear. You turned back to face her. “What’s going on? Is he still bothering you? Is it about what happened-”

“No, it’s not.” You were quick to cut her off in case the guys were listening. “It’s not about that.” You said sternly, tuning back into JJ and Pope’s conversation.

“If they corner me, I’m comin’ out swingin. I’m on edge right now.” JJ spoke seriously. “If that doesn’t work, I got this right here.” He assured, holding up his backpack that looked mostly empty but oddly heavy.

“JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here. JJ, there are kids!” Kie started, being oddly loud for not wanting people to know that JJ may or may not have brought a gun.

“I didn’t bring the gun, Kiara. Everything’s fine.” He tried to calm her.

“That’s really convincing.” She said, voice full of sarcasm. “...What happened? What did you guys do?” She asked, eyes going back and forth between the three of you that remained quiet. “Founding principle, no secrets among pogues. What is Rafe talking about?”

“Kie,” Pope started, voice low. “It might go down tonight.”

YOU ALL WERE A GOOD WAY INTO THE MOVIE AT THIS POINT, the sun had gone down and the air had cooled. The only sounds filling your ears were the movie playing and crickets in the trees. You were sitting in between JJ’s legs, using the base of his lawn chair as a backrest to ease the pain on your side from trying to keep yourself up. You’d heard him and Pope whispering but paid no mind until the blonde was tapping your shoulder, signaling that he was getting up.

“Where are you guys going?” You questioned, looking up at him and adjusting the chair from where it had slipped behind you once he got up.

“We gotta wring it out.”

“Together?” Kie asked.

“It’s bro code. Bro’s who piss together…” He struggled to find a rhyme with the made-up honor code. “...stick together. We’ll be right back.” You watched as the pair of boys crouched, creeping through the crowd and over to a tree next to the projector screen. You questioned why they didn’t head to the actual bathrooms but quickly got your answer with a quick glance back, seeing Rafe and his goons blocking it.

“Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Kie whispered.

You sighed, curling in on yourself slightly. “Trust me, it’s better if you don’t know.” The girl scoffed and shook her head.

“Do the guys know? About what happened?”

“No. Why would they?”

“Do you ever plan on telling them?” You rolled your eyes, starting to get frustrated.

“No, Kie, I don’t. I’d like to forget it ever happened, if that’s okay with you.” You snapped, silence falling over the two of you as the movie continued to play.

You assumed maybe a handful of minutes had gone by before you noticed the guys hadn’t come back yet and one weary glance behind you told you all you needed to know — Rafe, Kelce, and Topper were gone, too.

You immediately shook Kie’s arm, startling the poor girl.

“What? What is it?”

“We need to go. Now.” Was all you said before you got up, taking JJ’s bag with you as you and Kie swiftly walked in the direction the guys had gone earlier so as to not alarm any movie viewers. Coming around the back of the projector screen, you were met with a brutal scene in front of you — Kelce held JJ by his arms as Rafe delivered blow after blow to his face while Topper beat up Pope.

“Let go of him! Fascist asshole!” Kie yelled as she whacked Topper in the back over and over. You made a b-line for Rafe, throwing JJ’s bag down and jumping onto the boy’s back, wounding your arms around his neck, allowing JJ an open opportunity to push Kelce off of him.

“Leave him alone, Rafe!” You screeched.

“You don’t wanna do this, sunshine!” He yelled back, throwing you off of his back and onto the grass. Just like yesterday, you were on your back as he stared down at you, breathing heavily. “I’m being nice. Only ‘cause you’re my favorite.” He smirked, huffing with blood in the corner of his lip before turning back to JJ.

You rolled on your side in the grass to see Topper choking out Pope only after having seen him throw Kiara to the ground. JJ had Rafe handled. You reached for JJ’s bag that had been abandoned, flipping it open to reveal the gun and a lighter. Your eyes went back and forth between the gun and Topper, who had Pope in a deadly chokehold at this point.

You wanted to do it, so bad.

But a gun to a Kook's head was what caused all of this in the first place, so you dismissed the thought, kicking the lighter over to Kie, the object hitting the sole of her shoe.

The girl looked down at the lighter and then at you, you motioned towards the projector screen and she caught on quickly. It wasn’t long before the projector screen was going up in flames, scaring the movie guests and breaking up the fight, spooking the guys. Topper released Pope as JJ pushed Kelce back once more, Rafe stood off in the middle of the four guys, staring directly at you as you got up.

When he snapped out of whatever trance he was in, he gathered up Topper and Kelce and fled the scene. Kie helped Pope up as you turned your attention to JJ. He was fixing his clothes but you didn’t miss the scars on his cheek and bottom lip.

“Are you okay?” You asked frantically, eyes roaming his entire face for any more cuts.

“Fine, I’m fine.” He calmed you as you laid a hand on his shoulder before trailing it up to the back of his neck, but he looked like he wanted to say something. Like he was thinking extremely hard.

“C’mon, let’s go.” You urged the rest of your group, leaving before the fire department and cops inevitably made their appearance.

“I JUST ACTED OFF INSTINCT, MAN. I WAS A CORNERED ANIMAL.” Pope told JJ as he restocked some items on the shelves inside of Heyward’s. It was the next morning but you were all still on edge about the fight last night. It was clear now that Topper knew Pope and yourself were the ones who sank his boat and you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Don’t feel bad, dude. It was three of them and two of us.” JJ tried to remedy it. “That’s some typical Kook shit right there.”

“Hell yeah.” Kie agreed.

“Hey Pope,” Heyward’s voice rang out in the small crab-shack, towel slung over the older man’s shoulder. “There’s someone here to see you.” He motioned behind him, Deputy Shoupe making his appearance.

Pope’s posture immediately straightened, his eyes going wide as the shop went silent with Shoupe’s arrival. “Evening, officer.” He barely got out. Shoupe’s eyes went between you and Pope before replying.

“You’re both here. Great.” He said, reaching into his holster. “I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property. For both of you.”

“Woah, woah, woah…” Heyward was stunned as he stood back and watched the scene play out in front of him.

“Keep your hands on the counter where I can see ‘em.” Shoupe handcuffed Pope first, the boy putting up no fight in his daze. He looked like he’d faint any moment.

“Shoupe, what’d they do?!” Heyward tried again.

“Look at the warrant.” Was all the deputy offered in response, remaining stoic. Once Pope was secure, he moved onto you, looking you in the eyes somewhat pitifully before beckoning for you to turn around and put your hands behind your back. Heyward, Kiara, and JJ were causing commotion, talking over one another as he secured you in handcuffs.

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney…” He continued but you could barely hear him as he single-handedly guided both you and Pope out of Heyward’s Seafood. Pope’s father, JJ, and Kie follow close behind.

“Shoupe, it was just me.” You tried, craning your neck to look at the officer. “Pope didn’t do anything.”

“Nice try, kiddo. But there were two people on that boat, caught it on camera. And your face is as clear as day.” He dismissed you.

“It was me!” JJ yelled, causing Shoupe to stop in his tracks. The three of you turned around to look at the blonde. “...Pope tried to talk us out of it. But Y/N and I were just too mad because they’d just been beaten up. I was so sick of those Figure Eight assholes." He spoke convincingly, eyes landing on Pope's ashamed figure. "I can’t let you take the blame for something I did.” JJ was now right in front of Pope, looking the boy dead in his eyes. “You’ve got too much to lose.”

“JJ, what’re you doing?” Pope said hushed but still aggressive.

“I’m telling the truth, for once in my damn life.” He said without much hesitation at all. “I took his old man’s boat, too.”

“What the hell…” Heyward looked crazily at the blonde boy.

“He’s a good kid.” JJ told Shoupe. “...You know where I’m from.” Shoupe nodded lightly, agreeing with the statement before his attention was on you and Pope.

“That the whole truth, Pope?” Shoupe inquired, cocking an unbelievable eyebrow.

He seemed to ponder on it before gulping heavily and nodding his head shakily, looking at JJ one last time. “Yeah…that," He huffed. "That covers it.”

YOU’D NEVER SEEN THE INSIDE OF A JAIL CELL, not that you ever planned on it. It was suffocating. The walls, the color of the walls, the dingy bars, the stale air. You felt like a caged animal, an unwelcome chill making the experience that much more unbearable.

You and JJ sat across from one another — on the floor, legs bent underneath with your heads thrown back.

“Why’d you do it?” You questioned, your voice echoing out within the cell. "Take the fall, I mean..."

“I couldn’t let Pope go down for it.” His raspy voice replied. “I would’ve taken the fall for you both. But I heard Shoupe, they had footage of two people and your face was ‘as clear as day’.” He mocked the older man’s southern twang.

The action made you chuckle, craning your head down to look at him, not aware that he was already looking at you.

You sighed, shaking your head and running fingers through the base of your hair. “I should’ve never suggested it in the first place. I knew it was a stupid idea, I just wasn’t in the right headspace…”

“Because of Rafe?” The question made your heart stop, eyes jumping up to his before fleeting to the ground. “It’s not hard to notice. He clearly knows you, knows you. But I just…can’t put the pieces together. What happened between you two?”

You looked down at your hands that were now wound around your knees, your fingers fiddling with each other. “A lot of things happened, when I first moved to Figure Eight and fell in with Kiara and I’s old friend group. Let’s just... leave it at that.”

The blonde was looking at you like he wanted to press for more information and you knew one day he would, and with the way recent events have played out? That day might come sooner than you were comfortable with. But for right now, you just couldn’t wait until you got out of this cell. Somehow.

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