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slttygeto · 10 months

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WHISPERED PROMISES—S. SHINICHIRO

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you meet shinichiro one day when he’s working in his shop. you’re sweet, nice and there’s an obvious tension between you two. you feel like a teenager with the way he’s making you nervous, but you accept to go on a date with him. things only get better from there.

જ⁀➴ content warning: so much fluff i almost cried, fem!reader, you and shin have the biggest crush on each other, he’s so sweet and respectful, eventual smut, mentions of a breeding kink, protected sex, fingering, oral (fem! receiving), pussy whipped shinichiro, dirty talk, lots of kisses, shin has a big dick<3

જ⁀➴word count: 7,9k (lord have mercy)

જ⁀➴note: a great thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again!! I got so carried with this fic, the plot was just so good!!

COMMISSIONS ARE STILL OPEN: 1 SLOT LEFT.

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED!

Working on weekends was Shinichiro’s least favorite thing about his job. He tried his best to make it a good experience, he really did, but he was tired from a long week of working eight hours a day (and sometimes more when there was an emergency). And so, small things got on his nerves.

His lunchbox wouldn’t open, he forgot to pack chopsticks with him, he forgot to put water in his mini-fridge, the air conditioner was barely working—good lord, he was getting so annoyed.

Ring!

Oh great, a customer visiting when he was at his wits ends. Shinichiro stands up from his crouching position next to the bike he was working on. He grabs the rug that was attached to his pants and wipes his hands. He was expecting the usual type of customers; rude, stubborn, the know-it-all who tried to explain to him his own job and how it’s done. All in all, unlikeable.

Though, he is pleasantly surprised when he finds a girl standing at the door, looking around his shop with heart eyes. You looked so lost in your thoughts, your hands gripping your hand bag so tightly (from nervousness? Shinichiro wasn’t sure). Your stance was polite, and you looked in awe at his work. Maybe working today wasn’t such a bad idea if his first customer of the day is someone like you.

He brushes off the thoughts, telling himself that you looked young—no, way too young for someone like him. Plus, he wasn’t exactly the luckiest with girls. He’s had his fair share of hookups, tried to be in relationships, but things just never worked out for him.

He rolls his shoulders as he approaches you, greeting you with a wave. He was tall, had a smile that had you feeling a little dizzy—good god, this man was attractive. Whether it be the way he carried himself, or how he wiped the dirt off his hands, you could tell that he was hardworking and truly loved his job.

“Hi, welcome to our shop.” He really hoped that his voice wouldn’t crack and embarrass him. Technically, it was his shop and he was proud of it. It wasn’t exactly the fanciest out there, but it was his pride and joy. The display of the many bikes that he owned always caught people’s attention outside and left him grinning from ear to ear.

“Hello, thank you, I didn’t think anyone was here,” you were nervous, he could tell by watching you relax and clench your hands more than once.

“Well, someone has to be here,” he jokes and for a second, he can tell you were glad that he did. His playful remark somehow made you relax, and you let out a slightly less nervous giggle (which sounded so fucking adorable).

“You’re right, my bad.” You start looking around the shop again, and the man thinks it’s time to try to get to know you a little better. How can he do that without appearing to be invading your personal space? Should he immediately ask for your name? No, that’s too bold. Maybe…Maybe taking the professional approach will work.

“Can I see your driver’s license?” Very subtle.

You don’t hesitate as you pull it out and hand it to the tall man, and you watch as his eyes scan it for a good five seconds before humming in approval.

You were indeed younger, but only four years younger than him, really fucking attractive. He thought that there is no way you were single, but then again there was no ring on your finger—should he just ask you if you were in a relationship? Nu-uh, too soon.

“Alright, and how can I help you?”

“I am here to fix my friend’s bike for her birthday,”

“Oh you have a biker friend? So you know a little about them?”

“Only the basics, I’m more of an avid fan of the races rather than a participator.” You let out a chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. You weren’t lying, you did enjoy watching more than riding them. But only because you tried before and failed miserably, and you weren’t going to include such embarrassing detail to a handsome stranger.

“Okay, what does she need help with exactly?”

You go into detail of what had happened, and how your friend had stopped riding her motorcycle just because she was too busy saving up money for something else. And with her birthday coming up, you thought you could sneakily get a family member of hers to bring the bike to this particular shop and get it fixed right on time. Shinichiro agrees to help you, and you both settle on the price rather quickly. Now you no longer had a reason to be in the shop, but you didn’t exactly want to leave either.

“You’re not busy?”

“Not at all,” you look at the display of the many fancy motorcycles he owned, letting out a “wow” at how shiny and pretty they looked. He took good care of them.

“My name is Shinichiro, by the way.” He takes his hand out to shake yours and you accept it immediately. You try not to blush at how rough his hand felt, evidence of true hard work. Could he get any more attractive?

“Nice to meet you, Shinichiro,” you grin at the man, and feel him squeeze your hand tightly before relaxing. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but hesitated and thought ‘nevermind’. But the longer you stayed in his shop, the more obvious it was to the man that if you left the shop without his number, he would be the one to call himself a loser. No need for Benkei and Wakasa to do that for him.

“So, uh…” His lips part, his hand comes to the back of his neck and your heart picks up its pace. You could see that the tips of his ears were turning red, and his hand hadn’t let go of yours. “This is a little unprofessional of me…” He mumbles to himself. He sighs and you chuckle and at the dilemma he seems to be in, but that sound alone seems to encourage him to speak more. He wants to hear you laugh again, you seemed very comfortable with what was happening.

“Would you like to go out sometime? I’d like to know you better, you seem like a really nice girl and—“

“Absolutely.” You don’t let him go on with his little ramble, only flash him a nervous grin. The apples of your cheeks were as red as his, and it truly felt like two teenagers confessing to one another. You loved a man that made you feel like this.

“Oh?” He grins back, and his hand slides down from his nape to the back pocket of his jeans. “Great, when are you available?”

“Tomorrow, my place.” Shinichiro almost chokes on his saliva at your words. Your place? It was too early for that, not that he minded—but he wanted to be a gentleman, wait at least a few dates before even trying to get in bed with you—

Sensing that he was malfunctioning, your other hand slides on top of the hand that was holding yours and you squeeze it in reassurance.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. I just thought going to a restaurant would be a waste of money—and personally, I love cooking. We can just watch a movie and hang out?” You felt like such a breath of fresh air. Somehow, feeling your skin against his made him immediately relax.

It’s not the idea of coming to your place that scared him, he just always thought you only do that after a while of dating. But here you were, suggesting that an indoor date would be better and cheaper than at a restaurant. Plus, he felt like he could get to know you better if you’re sitting on the couch together alone rather than in a place filled with people.

“I love the idea. So, tomorrow?”

“8PM, how does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

After exchanging phone numbers, you and Shinichiro practically texted almost all night. You talked about everything and nothing, almost forgetting to send him your location. Turns out, you didn’t really live that far away from his own place, nearly less than a five minute walk.

He was really nervous. He didn’t tell anyone about the date, made up some bullshit of a lie that he was going out for a few hours and his friends were already eyeing him weird. He simply wanted to take his time with you. Your chemistry seemed promising even though you’ve known each other for less than a day.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and if you were going to choose not to go out on a date with him again, he could at least keep it a secret to himself.

Since you were the one cooking tonight, Shinichiro thought it would be rude if he didn’t bring anything with him. So he got a bouquet, brought board games with him and some drinks just in case. He felt stupid for not having asked you beforehand what kind of drinks you liked, but he was almost at your place. No time for regrets.

You had also told him to dress comfortably. You were going to chill in your living room for a while, and you wanted your date to feel as natural as possible. So here he was, dressed in a white hoodie and some grey sweatpants, his hair was still slightly wet from the quick shower he took after getting off work, and he hoped that he wouldn’t catch a cold.

Arriving at your doorstep, the man was more than sure that this was your place. You had a cute doormat with the word ‘WELCOME’ written in bold, along with two huge plants on either side of it. If your doorstep felt this cozy, he could only imagine what the inside looks like.

Knock, knock, knock.

He waits approximately three seconds before he hears the sound of you running barefoot to the doorstep, a muffled “I’m coming!” accompanied with it. You handle a few locks before opening the door, greeting him with the cutest smile he’s ever seen. He doesn’t have time to look at your outfit or tell you how nice you look before you were wrapping your arms around him. You don’t squeeze too tight, but Shinichiro feels you flinch and pull away.

“Oh, sorry! I got too excited—“ you’re blushing—fuck, you’re blushing and he’s getting butterflies in his stomach like a teenager. Shinichiro has been on enough dates to know the difference between feeling nervous and having an absolute crush on his date—it was the latter with you.

“It’s okay, I like hugs,” he places the bag full of goods on the floor and pulls you in another hug, his hand caressing your back gently. He hopes you can’t hear how loud his heart is beating, because then he would be fucked.

“You smell really good,” you mumble against his chest and you feel him hum. He leans down and you can feel his nose on top of your head—this was too intimate for a first date, but neither of you minded.

“You smell like roses,” he lets you pull away from the hug, grinning from ear to ear that his words were getting you to blush this hard.

“Thank you.” So shy, so sweet--

I swear if this doesn’t work out, I’ll never date again.

“Oh how rude of me, please come on in!” You lead him all the way inside, and Shinichiro can finally take a look at your outfit. You were wearing the cutest dress that reached right above your knees, along with a pair of fuzzy socks. You looked so comfortable and adorable, he couldn’t help the smile on his lips.

“Quite the cute outfit,” his tone is playful, it makes you pause what you were doing in the kitchen to give him a playful glare yourself.

“Yeah, yeah, I told you I wanted us to feel comfortable. It’s bad enough that my heart is about to explode,” so it wasn’t just him feeling nervous, cool.

“You’re also nervous?”

“Also?” now it’s your turn to sound playful and the man laughs at your antics. He takes a seat on your couch, and waits for you to join him. He looks around your apartment, and takes in how well thought everything seemed to be. From the candles sitting by the tiny coffee table, to the polaroids hanging on the wall—your place felt like a perfect representation of how you were as a person and as a friend; comforting and sweet.

“You got me my favorite drink!” Your excited voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He stares at you and the way your eyes seem to light up at a simple drink. He picked out the flavor very randomly, his thought process was ‘I hope she likes this’ and turns out, you did.

Lucky him. Everything he seemed to do or pick for you aligned perfectly with your preferences. Though, he couldn’t deny that he was eager to learn more about you; what you did for a living, what your favorite pet was, your sleeping schedule, your favorite place to eat—he needed to stop.

You approached the TV and grabbed your remote control before turning around to face him.

“Food is almost ready, wanna watch something in the mean time?” Shinichiro nods and you quickly take a seat next to him on the couch.

“So, what kind of shows are you into?”

The next half hour passes by rather quickly, and you end up not watching anything as you both chat on the couch. He helps you check in on the food when you gasp in horror, thinking that it got burned—but thank god, it didn’t. You talk about your childhood, what you did for a living and how things were going for you. If you had any friends living nearby, where you grew up. You appreciated how attentive the dark haired male sitting on your kitchen stool was, your heart skipped a beat every time he flashed you an adorable grin. You were absolutely doomed.

“How about you though, any friends or family living around you?” You ask as you start serving the pasta on the plates he helped setting on the table. He hums in response, but you think it was directed towards the food and how delicious it looked.

“I have two siblings, a brother and a sister.”

“Younger?”

“Yeah, how did you know?” he quirks an eyebrow at you and you shrug your shoulders.

“You give off oldest brother vibes,”

“In a good way I hope,” he teases, waiting for you to take a seat facing him.

“An amazing way, you seem very caring and selfless.” You light up the candle sitting in the middle of the table, and Shinichiro tries his best not to stare for too long when you stand up to do it. You were leaning down, the light coming from the candle made you look ten times prettier tonight.

Well, fuck me.

You catch him staring at you, the taller guy almost cooing at how you seemed to blush at his attention. A shy ‘what?’ leaves your lips and Shinichiro shakes his head in response.

“Just—you look so pretty,” he was being honest. He wasn’t trying to scare you away or seem creepy, Shinichiro was just an honest man.

“Oh please—have you seen yourself? You’re so handsome, it should be illegal!”

“Not gonna lie, I am handsome,” you stare at him in disbelief, before breaking into a laugh.

“What? My parents were very beautiful people,”

“Oh, I’m not saying otherwise. It just caught me off guard,” you giggled, grabbing your fork to eat your spaghetti.

“Plus, I look like my mom. It’s my biggest flex,” you notice how he smiles when he mentions his mom, and realize that he used the past tense when referring to his parents. Should you ask him about them or not?

“Were they nice people?” you were thankful that he caught on who you were referring to, and gave you a nod.

“The best.”

Dinner went on very smoothly with you two chatting here and there. There seemed to be no hole in your conversations, and when it suddenly got quiet, you’d immediately fill it with a new topic. Talking to him was just so fun.

He helps you clean the dishes (despite you saying he doesn’t have to) and you learn from standing next to him without your shoes on that he was a rather tall man. His stature was incredibly attractive even with a hoodie on, and he seemed to love dancing while washing the dishes.

“Oh did I tell you I have a niece?” you gasp at the revelation, almost dropping the board game he brought with him.

“You do? Show me!” he immediately whips out his phone and shows you the folder he has dedicated to pictures of him and his niece. He has approximately 500 pictures of her and she’s the sweetest girl ever.

She looks exactly like him, you almost think that he’s lying to you about being her uncle. You can definitely tell that she got her blond hair from her mom (you passed by a few pictures of the little girl with her parents), but she definitely looked like uncle’s favorite girl.

He tells you about her, how she brought some joy to his life a year ago when she was born. You listen to him and admire how his eyes are full of love when speaking of her—this man was the greenest flag you’ve ever met.

“I’d love for you to meet her, y’know if we see each other again,” he hesitates as he says the last sentence, but your hand is immediately wrapped around his arm before you squeeze it reassuringly.

“I would love to meet her,” even if you didn’t explicitly say it, you were hinting that you were looking forward to your next date together. Lucky Shinichiro.

The rest of the night is filled with laughter as you try all the board games he brought with him. Even when you got bored and decided to do something else, the man was down for whatever as long as it meant making you smile and giggle until your stomach was hurting. He loved how you seemed to encourage him whenever he doubted himself, he also noticed that your hand would always land on his back in reassurance when he lost (mostly to tease him, but you still loved feeling his muscular back through the fabric of his hoodie).

It was around 11:30PM when Shin finally decided it was time to head back home, and he had to fight the urge to kiss your lips when you sulked at the realization that it was time for him to leave.

“Man, that was too fast,” you complain as you both walk towards the door, and he chuckles at how whiny you suddenly got.

“Hey, it’s not like we won’t see each other again, yeah?” his hand landed on your back to reassure you the same way you did when he lost, and he noticed how you seemed to melt at his touch.

“Yeah,” you reply in a small voice, shy and suddenly too aware of your loud heartbeat.

Was he going to give you a hug? Kiss you? You were honestly hoping for a kiss, maybe a quick peck?

You were thinking too much.

“Thank you for tonight, I really had so much fun with you,” his hand rested at your shoulder, and you almost melted when he squeezed it. His hand was big and warm, you couldn’t stop thinking of how nice it would feel if you held it, kissed the skin or maybe traced the scars on it.

“I had so much fun too,” you reply, your hand instinctively wrapping itself around his wrist. Your thumb caresses the skin there, and while your heart was telling you that this was the right thing to do, your brain was scolding you for being so forward.

Shinichiro could swear that his heart was about to come out of his throat when your hand wrapped around his wrist. Your warm touch and caring nature had the man feeling dizzy, blushing once again like he’s never felt a woman’s touch before.

“Goodnight,” he pulls you towards him to hug you, grabbing both your arms to wrap them around his waist. This doesn’t necessarily catch you off guard since your brain had been screaming at you to wait for him to do something.

“Goodnight Shinichiro,” your head rests on his chest, a smile adorning your lips. You pull away from the hug a few seconds later, and wait for him to put on his shoes before opening the door for him.

“Text me when you get home,” you say in a low voice, trying not to disturb the neighbors and he nods.

“I will, bye!”

“Bye!” you wave at him, watching his back as he slowly walks away from your apartment. You close the door and stand there for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts. This was by far one of the best first dates you’ve been on. Not only was Shinichiro such a sweetheart, but you had so much fun with him. You felt like you could hang out with him forever, you couldn’t wait for your next date together—fuck, perhaps you were rushing things? Maybe he wanted to wait a couple of days before calling you again, or maybe he won’t call you at all—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Your heart stills at the sound, you almost grab your phone to call the police. But something tells you to open the door anyway, and when you do, two warm hands are grabbing your face and pulling you out of your apartment.

Shinichiro?

“What are you—“

“I wanna kiss you—can I kiss you?” he looks out of breath and his cheeks are pink. You’re not sure if it’s because of the fact that he ran, or if he was flustered. But either way, your cheeks are the same color as his when you hear his request.

“Kiss me, please.”

That was all what he needed to hear before pressing his lips against yours. His lips are warm and soft, and he kisses you so passionately that you can feel your head spinning. Your hands are balled up in fists, tightly holding onto the fabric of his hoodie to keep him closer to you. Shinichiro’s bigger frame is obvious when he kisses you, his entire form leans over you and it makes you blush even more.

Your lips move together for a few more moments before you’re both pulling away, the taller male still pressing kisses all over your face before pecking you on the lips one last time.

“Goodnight,” he says one last time, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips before walking away from your apartment.

You close the door once again, and for a moment you feel like a main character in a romance drama. You lean your weight against the wall and feel your burning cheeks with your hands.

“Oh… my god,”

Shinichiro was going to be all you could think of for the next few days.

---

After your first date together, you and Shinichiro went on four more dates. Each one had a different vibe to it; at the fair, at a café, another date at your place and the most recent one was a cute lunch date at his bike shop. He fixed your friend’s bike but you also preferred being alone with him rather than outside with a crowd of people. Not that you didn’t appreciate the dates at the fair and the café, you were still feeling giddy from knowing each other, and so it felt more intimate to spend time together like this.

Shinichiro hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet, and you were more than okay with it. You could tell he was waiting for the right moment to do it, it was adorable. There were times where it would get quiet between you two and you would find him staring at you so lovingly, it made your heart stutter in your chest.

He was about to come pick you up from your place very soon, and you remember him telling you to wear something comfortable which intrigued you. Where was he taking you exactly?

Soon after, you heard familiar three knocks at your door and almost jumped from the couch. You were so excited to see him, the part of your brain that usually embarrassed you for being so excited for a date was buried somewhere—this was Shinichiro, the same man who hugged and kissed you so passionately on your first date, held your hand at the fair and pecked your lips after winning a teddy bear for you. He got you food when you told him you were too tired to cook, and cleaned your kitchen despite you telling him he didn’t have to.

And he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet.

You brushed off the negativity aside, trying to tell yourself that the pit in your stomach was from excitement and not disappointment. He’s been so good to you, just because he was taking too long to make things official didn’t mean he was playing you.

You hoped.

You open the door and is greeted with a good looking Shinichiro. It was dark outside, it was 9PM and so the street light made him look extra attractive.

He always looked good, but this time—wow. He was wearing a leather jacket with some jeans and a white shirt, and he had his helmet in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. You tried your best not to blush at the sight of his hair slicked back, but you were so used to turning red in his presence that you just let it happen.

“Well hello there handsome,” you try to tease him, hoping that it makes your blush die down and give you a hint of confidence, but it withers away so fast when he places his helmet on the floor and pulls you into a hug. He smells so fucking good, it should be unfair.

“Hi pretty, ready for our date?” He pulls away from the hug to stare at your outfit and hums when he sees that you’re wearing shorts and a cardigan. “You look adorable.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your red cheek, and chuckles when you look down shyly.

“Thank you,”

“Still shy?” He teases, handing you the bouquet which you hold carefully.

“Shut up, it’s not my fault,” you walk back inside your place and Shinichiro waits for you by the door with his helmet. You put the bouquet of flowers in a vase and fill it with water before putting it on your table. This way, it always felt like a part of him was around you.

“It’s cute,” he flashes you a smile and you have to look away to try to calm your nerves. Making you feel this nervous should be illegal. Did he cast some spell on you?

“Anyway big boy, where are we going?” you walk out of your apartment and close the door, and when you turn around to face the taller guy, he places his helmet on your head and helps adjusting it so that it doesn’t fall off.

“I’m taking you somewhere, do you trust me?” He points at his motorcycle waiting for you both in front of your building and your lips part in awe. He was taking you for a ride on his most treasured possession?

“I do,” he sees that you’re in deep thought and squeezes your shoulder.

“Then let’s go.”

He gets on top of his bike and helps you sit behind him, and at first you hesitate on where to put your hands—until you feel him wrap your arms around his waist and tug you to press your chest on his back.

“Hold on tight, okay?” You could swear he was doing it on purpose, but you don’t think much of it when he’s suddenly speeding away from your apartment building.

It takes you ten minutes to get to your destination, with Shinichiro showing off his skills and laughing when you scream in horror when you get too close to car. You never thought that he would drive so…recklessly, but it was fun. He parks his motorcycle very close to where you were both standing, facing a small lake that you always passed by when going to work. It had pretty cherry trees, and people always took their dogs out on walks or walked with their partners here.

“I love this place,” you whisper, standing close to Shinichiro who chuckles at your words. He knows, you mentioned it before when you were having lunch together.

“I know, you always stare at it when we drive past it,”

He noticed. You almost coo at this, and stare up at the tall man through your eyelashes. Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist and he pulls you closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you pull away from the hug to rest your chin on his chest, staring up at him with the same eyes that always had the man weak in the knees. His hand caresses the top of your head as he stares down at you, and it slowly slips from the top to the back of your head.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I might just kiss you,” although there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, you could tell he was being serious. And who were you to deny a kiss from him?

“Kiss me, Shin,” the man doesn’t need to be told twice before he’s leaning down to kiss you. You sigh in the kiss, his hands hold your face so gently that it makes you melt into his touch.

When you both pull away, you’re glad that it was dark outside or your faces would’ve given away how flustered you were. He can still tell from your warm cheeks that you were blushing and leans down to give you a quick peck.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” This man was too much for your heart to handle. You thought he was attractive, well-mannered and a gentleman—but this really takes the cake.

You’re excited, giddy that you could finally make things official with him. You’ve been waiting for this day since your first date—and it finally happened.

“Gladly.”

You and Shinichiro were officially girlfriend and boyfriend.

---

Today, you were going to meet Shinichiro’s niece. His sister had asked him if he could babysit her and he agreed, asking her if you could tag along which she agreed to. She wanted to meet you, and you weren’t opposed to the idea. Emma seemed very sweet from the many times Shin mentioned her, and so meeting her didn’t stress you out that much.

You got to Emma and Draken’s place at 5PM, they wanted to go on a date (which was well deserved) and so asking Shinichiro to babysit her seemed like the best option since the baby was in love with him. You greet the couple with a smile, and you watch as Emma shows Shinichiro where the bottles and diapers are, and what to do in case she cried—which he knew about already. His sister was just anxious, and probably felt a little too guilty to be taking some time away from her little girl.

“Have fun!”

Now it was just you, Shin and the little girl. For a one year old, she sure had a lot of personality. And you think that she definitely got it from her uncle. She giggles at everything he does and loves to sit on his lap, but when she noticed you sitting on the couch, her eyes lit up. She was intrigued, and she rarely ever met a new person.

You weren’t a familiar face, but she didn’t cry when you asked Shin if you could hold her. She gladly let you take her in your arms and even giggled and buried her face in your chest when you flashed her a small smile. What an angel.

“Oh are you getting shy on me?” You stand up from the couch with her in your arms and walk to the kitchen to get her one of the snacks her mother had prepared for her. You held her in one arm while the free one grabbed her chair to sit her there.

Shinichiro watched the scene unfold and could feel his body tense up. Whatever it was that had him feeling this… dizzy, he needed to brush it off. You were so good with his niece, so gentle and caring—you talked to her with so much tender and his niece seemed to love you; a complete stranger she just met. You treated her like she was your own baby, changed her diaper and helped getting her to bed, you even gave her a bath and Shinichiro could only imagine what it would be like to have a baby with you.

Watching you walk around your shared apartment with a belly full of his baby, so sore and whiny. You would cuddle up against him and he would feel the baby kick, you would place his hand on your stomach and he would caress the skin lovingly. You would be so needy and horny, grinding against his thigh and he would help you—his pretty little wife, bringing you to an earth shattering orgasm—

Shit, he was getting hard.

He was so relieved when Emma and Draken came back, their daughter was fast asleep and you both were cuddling on the couch. He didn’t realize how rushed his goodbyes were until he felt you tagging at his sleeve in front of the car.

“Shin? Are you okay?” You were worried, his pretty angel so concerned for him, so unaware that the thought of breeding you was all over his mind. He didn’t want to scare you away, but he thought since you’ve already made it official and made out a couple of times, he could tell you what was on his mind.

“Can you come over?”

“To your place?” You tilt your head to the side and Shinichiro nods.

“Spend the night, I need you.”

He needs you.

You felt yourself get dizzy at his words, lips parted in shock. You weren’t taken aback by the fact that he was horny for you, but saying it out loud and sounding so…desperate, you could feel your panties getting embarrassingly wet.

“I’ll give you my hoodie, I can go to your place and get you some clothes I just—“ He knew he was rambling, but he didn’t want you to think that he only cared about his pleasure, not when he knew the night was going to be all about you.

“Shin,” you cut him off, and the man stares down at you. “I need you too, please,”

---

Once at Shinichiro’s place, you didn’t have time to take off your jacket before he was pushing you up against the wall and kissing you so feverishly. You don’t know what set him off, but you weren’t opposed to it. His hands were helping you rid yourself of your jacket before slipping behind your thighs to grip the skin.

He pulls away from the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, panting and already so out of breath.

“If you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop, tap my arm, okay?”

So cute. Your response was a moan before you were kissing him again, this time trying to deepen it more than before. Shin taps your butt and asks you to jump, and when you do he wraps your legs around his waist and starts heading towards his bedroom. He kisses you like he means it, and unlike other kisses you’ve shared before, this one has a hint of lust to it—it tastes different; needy, demanding, and you melt into it like butter.

You expect his room to be a little messy, but you’re pleasantly surprised when you see how tidy it is. It smelled of sandalwood and his perfume, bed neatly made. He throws you on top of it like you weigh nothing, and is immediately on top of you after stripping himself of his own jacket. He gets back to kissing you, this time you’re aware of what’s pressing against your thigh and you don’t mind at all—instead, you’re pushing him away from you to sit up on your elbows.

“Are you—“

“Shut up and help me take off my shirt,” Shin’s lips are sealed shut at your words, then he’s doing as told. He helps you take off your shirt and grunts at the sight of you in your bra. Your tits looked gorgeous. He leans down and presses a kiss to the skin below your collarbone, hands sliding up to your shorts to pull them down in on fast movement and you squeal.

“Shin!”

“You don’t mind me getting a little taste first, right?” A blush spreads across your cheeks but you shake your head almost frantically at his words. You wiggle yourself out of your shorts, giving him a little show by letting them hang to your ankle for a moment before throwing them somewhere in his room. You giggle when he leans in and presses a kiss to your calf, but it turns into a moan when he licks all the way up to your inner thigh.

“You wanna tease me, is that it?” His mouth leaves wet kisses all over your inner thighs, before finally getting to your panties. He is shameless as he takes a whiff of your arousal through the damp fabric, and you almost kick him away because of how embarrassing it looks.

“You smell—fucking heavenly, “ he practically moans out the last part, and it makes a shy sound erupt from the back of your throat, looking away from him. But he’s having none of that—not tonight. He wanted you to look him dead in the eyes as he fucked every thought out of your head, wanted to feel you clamp around his dick as he brought you to a mind spinning orgasm.

You gasp when you feel him remove your panties in one swift motion, not even stuttering and hesitating as he balls them up and puts them in his pocket. You couldn’t even ask him what he was going to do with them before he was leaning down and spreading your pussy lips with a breathy moan. He looked so gone and he hasn’t even touched you yet, the sight of him looking so in love with your pussy made your clit throb—which made him audibly grunt.

“You’re a treat,” you don’t respond verbally—you can’t since he immediately wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. You inhale sharply at the contact, back arching and jaw going slack when he proceeds to pull away and flatten his tongue on the sensitive bud. Your eyes are rolled to the back of your head when he repeats the same movements—sucks, pulls away, kisses and then licks. It seems like a simple formula, and you can feel yourself getting louder and wetter but you have no care in the world. He’s eating you out so good, he’s showing no signs of stopping and you don’t want him to. Plus, whatever turned him on tonight must’ve made him feral if he was all over you like a mad man.

“Shin—oh fuck, oh baby,” you’re out of breath, your hands are flailing around trying to find where to grip. Until you feel the man between your legs grab your hand and placed them on top of his head. He wanted you to pull his hair, Jesus fuck.

You don’t have time to think properly, not that you can. You’re pulling at Shinichiro’s hair, hips bucking and stuttering with every strong lick on your clit. Your body is arching off the bed, and you sit up with a huff. Shinichiro can tell you’re about to cum when he pushed your body back down and slides in two fingers at a time. He looks up and has to hold himself back from cumming in his pants when he sees the blissed out look on your face—glossy eyes, bruised lips and red cheeks. You were a sight to see.

He helps you reach your orgasm with fast thrusts of his fingers, kissing the inner of your thigh and humming quietly about how well you were doing for him, how you were going to take his dick like a champ, how he can’t wait to stuff your cunt full of him and—

“Fuck!” You cry out, your body stuttering and shuddering as you finally get to cum. You ride out your orgasm by grinding your hips to the same rhythm as Shinichiro’s thrusts, and you whine at him when you can feel him kiss your clit, praising you for doing so well for him.

“My pretty girl, my gorgeous girl—you did so well,” he whispers and kisses your stomach, and you look down at him with lustful eyes and a fucked out expression, which he chuckles at.

Your eyes follow his every move as he gets up from between your legs and walks to his nightstand. He opens a drawer and grabs a condom, and you almost whine at him for that.

“Ah, baby. We gotta be careful,” he soothes you with a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing circles on the skin before traveling down to your lips. He feels like a mad man when you open your mouth and take his thumb in, swirling your tongue around before gently biting it. What a fucking tease.

“Next time, you can do that to my cock, yeah?” He whispers to you and you nod, but your eyes are wide and blown out with lust as you stare down at the visible bulge in his pants. He chuckles at your stare, and gives you a little show as he takes off his shirt—flaunting the body that he has even if it wasn’t the fittest, he was proud of it.

Then he’s wiggling out of his pants, and grins when you reach your hand towards his boxers to palm his hard-on. He grabs your wrist and shakes his head, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I said next time, hm?”

You don’t have time to pout about it before he’s taking off his boxers—and holy shit. He had your mouth watering, but your heart stutters and jumps in your chest at the thought of such a heavy cock inside of you. Shin watches as your expression changes and he chuckles, his cheeks reddening a little. For a man who was so full of confidence a few moments ago, seeing you look so in love with his cock made him feel a little proud.

“Next time when you go on the pill, I’ll fill you up so good,” he rips the condom with his mouth and swiftly places it on his dick, he watches as you eagerly spread your legs to welcome him between them and you nod at his words, even though you’re mainly focused on his cock.

“Yeah? You’d like that?” he lines up the tip with your entrance and you nod desperately, feeling yourself get even more turned on. “You’d like me to cum inside you, watch it leak out of you when we go for rounds?”

You’re a moaning mess by the time he slips it inside. You cling to his shoulders, face scrunched up in pleasure when you’re able to feel the sheer size of him inside you. Holy shit.

“Yeah baby, you won’t even have to work for it,” he adds, sounding out of breath. He pushes your legs up and shamelessly stares at how you’re taking his dick—your pussy swallows him back every time he tries to pull out, almost begs him to keep fucking you.

“Gonna give my pretty girl exactly what she wants—shit, gonna fuck her full of my cum,” your tummy is alive with butterflies at his words, and you stare up at the man who looks so focused on your pussy. Feeling your stare, Shinichiro locks eyes with you and chuckles. He’s all sweaty and fucked out himself, and the smile he flashes you when he starts to drill his cock into you is devilish.

He knew what he was doing, and you weren’t complaining about it. Your body feels on fire with every drive of is hips, fingernails digging into the skin of his back when he reaches that one spongy spot in your walls—you squeal, hands traveling down almost to push his hips away and that’s when he knows he found it and fuck—he starts to bully it.

You’re a sobbing mess, begging for absolutely nothing in particular but you keep chanting ‘please, please, please’ repeatedly, and Shincihiro has to lean down and kiss you. He soothes you with his lips, a heavy contrast to his mean thrusts. He’s fucking every thought out of your brain, and by the time you’re even able to come up with a coherent sentence, he pushes a single leg up on his shoulders—and your entire body seizes up.

You’re cumming hard around him, your jaw has gone slack and Shinichiro doesn’t stop. The bed shakes with every harsh thrust, and by the time you’re able to breathe again, you’re letting out a small scream at the intensity of your orgasm.

“Atta girl—fuuuuck, gonna make me cum,” he whines out the last part, his hands pinning your hips down to the mattress. You cry out from overstimulation, your pussy aching for him to slow down.

“Just a bit more baby, just a little—“ It only takes a few strokes for him to empty himself in the condom, reaching down to rest his forehead on your shoulder. You’re both a sweaty, panting mess, clinging onto each other as though you were one another’s life line. And even through heavy breaths, you kiss Shinichiro’s cheek, giggling when you see him smile.

“Are you okay?” He kisses your shoulder lovingly, letting his lips travel up to your neck where he feels you hum. You look down at him, letting your fingers brush the sweaty strands out of his face.

“Never been better,” Shinichiro grins at this, and he fixes himself until he’s able to kiss you properly on the lips. He makes it short and sweet, trying his best not to get carried away again because he knew you were definitely sore.

“Come on, you gotta get up and pee, darling.”

“And shower… I feel so sticky,” you make a face at the word sticky and the man above you chuckles at this.

“I like you like this, you smell like me.”

“Shin!”

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

#moon's works #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers fluff #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano #tr shinichiro #tokrev shinichiro #shinichiro smut #shinichiro fluff #tokyo revengers shinichiro #shinichiro x you #shinichiro x y/n

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assassinsblade · 5 months

Text

Forget Me Not | 5

It is your turn to experience guilt and regret, while Azriel takes some time to himself.

WC: 4.4k

Warnings: TW: SA, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts/ideations!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Angst, feelings, we are all sad but we are taking a turn for the better!

a/n: All of the comments and responses to Part 4 were seriously incredible. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday tomorrow if they celebrate!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

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Azriel's shadows surrounded him before he could command them to do anything else. Darkness swallowed his vision, his chest, his heart, gods, he was dying wasn't he? Was this what dying felt like?

He felt like he couldn't breathe. Pain was searing through his chest as if a fiery sword was sticking from his ribcage, and he barely felt his knees crashing to the ground underneath him.

He didn't know where he had subconsciously winnowed to until he heard his brother's voice, filled with shock and confusion.

"Az?"

Hands were pushing his shoulders back, trying to get him to unfold from himself, to stop grasping his chest. His chest, his chest, his chest, it burned-

"Feyre, get Madja."

Azriel tried to shake his head, but he was so dizzy he couldn't tell if he made the movement or not. He vaguely heard Feyre's movements shuffle to a halt. Rhys must have stopped her at his attempt to say no.

"What happened?" Rhys questioned, voice strong despite the panic slowly making its way in.

Azriel was sobbing. He didn't know when he had started, but he knew he had broken. His own chokes and cries echoed in Rhys' office, his tears falling onto the cold marble floor beneath their knees. Pain laced across his skin from his fingernails digging into his own flesh, and he felt Rhys trying to pry the grip away.

"Kill me," Azriel sobbed. "Please, kill me. Do something, just make it stop-"

Rhys dove for his brother at the words, pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace did little to help with the overwhelming torture raging within the shadowsinger. He was going to die, he wanted to die.

He had never hated himself more, hated how it felt like his body was going to eat him alive if he took one more breath.

The constant memories shooting behind his eyes like poison: his mother mistreated by the Illyrian men while his hands burned, Mor left naked and alone in that forest with a sign punctured to her womb and him not arriving until hours into her pain, Rhys walking into a trap because he hadn’t seen it and hadn’t stopped it, Gwyn violated and tortured because he hadn’t been aware enough to spoil the plot or get there soon enough, and then you — your bloody body being carried in Cassian’s arms, clothes torn off, having been forgotten by him.

"Don't you dare say that." The male trying to keep him together spoke with such command, but the shadowsinger's pain persisted.

"I can't do this, Rhys. She-"

He couldn't stop crying, he couldn't stop hurting, he felt like he was screaming...

"Feyre," he heard Rhys call distantly. Everything was blurry, everything was awful. His head was pounding, his body was giving up on him, and then he felt delicate hands on his cheeks, a soothing feminine voice, and then nothing.

As darkness swallowed him whole, he saw only the glinting gold swimming inside his chest, reaching like a rope into darkness.

It was quiet for a bit. Safe, surrounded by nothing but shadows so much like his own, and the small golden light flickering inside of him. He would be content to stay there forever. To no longer live as the monster he’d become, to be able to pretend he was nothing, no one, just a fluid existence stretched through space. Like the embodiment of flying through the skies of Velaris, wings splayed wide and air crisp and free all around.

Unfortunately though, Azriel’s peace was short lived. Before he could truly bask in the quiet, he was being pulled out of his mind and back into the present.

Bright light hit his face, shining through the window of his bedroom at the House of Wind. His shadows immediately swarmed the opening, pulling at the curtains until he was once again draped in darkness.

He sighed and sat up, running his hands down his face. He felt overly fatigued, his entire body weighed down with guilt, self-hatred, and the words you had spoken to him.

He did let everyone he knew down. He already knew that, reminded himself of that every single day, but that didn't make it hurt any less coming from your lips.

Rhys, one of the many people he had failed, had not stopped staring at him. Azriel knew his brother was waiting for him to break the silence.

His voice sounded broken to his own ears, weak and cracking even when spoken in a low volume. “I don’t know what to say.”

He truly didn’t. What should he have said? Hey Rhys, thanks for tucking me in after I had a complete breakdown, you can leave now.

“You can start by explaining why you came to my office and begged me to kill you.”

Yeah, Rhys was not happy.

Azriel sighed, feeling his chest pinch at the memories. He wasn't happy either.

You’re no hero. You’re a joke.

Your hands are the ones hurting me.

That’s all you're good for: inflicting damage.

“Azriel.” Rhys interrupted his thoughts.

He swallowed, feeling himself tear up again. He hadn’t cried this much since Rhys went under the mountain.

“She’s my mate,” he finally spoke, voice quiet and chest cracking open at the confession.

Rhys didn’t even blink. Azriel couldn’t meet his gaze though.

“Who?”

Rhys knew who. Based on Azriel’s reaction to the information alone, he knew.

Azriel didn’t answer the question, knowing it was unnecessary. Instead, he gazed at his scarred hands resting in his lap and said, “I went to train, and she was already in there. The bond snapped before she even turned around.”

“Does she know?”

He shook his head, focusing on the sting in his arm. “She wouldn’t have missed if she did.”

He felt Rhys eyeing the slash against his bicep, already weaving itself back together. Then his friend studied the rest of Azriel's body language. The way his shoulders were curved in on himself, the way his fingers traced over the scars on his hands, the ghostly look in the male's hazel eyes despite them glistening with tears.

"What did she say?" Rhys ended up asking after his silent observations.

"Enough."

His brother didn't let Azriel brush him off though. "Whatever she said, she didn't mean it, Az."

Azriel scoffed. "Look into my mind, see how she looked at me, and then you try to tell me she didn't mean it."

"She is angry and grieving, and you are the only person available that she can blame and take it out on. Her anger," Rhys suddenly grabbed Azriel's arm, positioning it so he could nod to the reddened gash, "that anger, is because she cares. She's hurt because she loves you."

Azriel shook his arm out of his friend's grip. "It doesn't matter. I fucked up, and I can't take that back. The damage has been done, Rhys."

"I used to think that too." Violet eyes met his. "Feyre hated me, in case you forgot."

Azriel didn't budge, so Rhys continued. "I know what you're feeling right now. That it'd be alright if she hated you, as long as she's safe. But it still hurts, knowing she thinks poorly of you, and that feeling builds up. But your journey with her is not over. She is a forgiving person, you just need to give her grace while she heals. And you need to give yourself grace, because you're in a painful position too."

He nodded, letting a few tears fall. His palm automatically reached for his chest, rubbing it in an effort to soothe the ache there.

“How did you do it? How did you live with it hurting this bad? After Feyre said…”

Rhys sighed, letting out a small breathy laugh — a genuine one. “It wasn’t easy. I left for those days before Starfall, ignored her letters, sorted out my thoughts. Came to the conclusion that even if Feyre never loved me, I would always love her and I’d be happy to do so. And I have a family who I love dearly, who also loves me.”

The pointed look he gave Azriel was obvious, reminding him that his family was there and worried about him too. They had seen the way he’d turned into a shell of himself, barely sleeping in case you had a nightmare and needed him, barely eating or training, his entire reserve of energy being put into monitoring your safety and wellbeing. And he knew they cared, he really did.

Cassian had been trying to get Azriel back into the swing of training again, wanting him to express some of his heavy emotions in the ring, or at least talk to his brother while sparring and practicing. Instead, Azriel was seclusive and pulled the punches he threw the Illyrian’s way.

Rhys had given Azriel time off from his missions, delegating the work to those under the spymaster to take some weight off of Azriel’s shoulders for a bit. Azriel had at first refused but had given in when Rhys had pointed out that time and attention needed to be focused at home anyway, what with the Illyrians’ growing mistrust of Cassian, Azriel, and himself, the threat of an uprising ever present.

But now with what you had said…

“I think it’d be best if I went away for a bit.” His voice was quiet, resigned, lifeless to his own ears.

“By yourself?” Rhys asked, clearly not liking the idea.

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just — I think some space from her would be good. You even said you needed that when Feyre had hurt you.”

His brother’s violet eyes softened with understanding. “You’re right. I did. But I do think this is a bit more complex. What if you went with Amren or Mor to see Jurian and Lucien? See what they have been up to for a bit? You can leave some of the work to them, but have something to distract you should you need it.”

Azriel was quiet as he considered, but Rhys cut in before he could agree too soon. “But you come back. And you come back within the month.”

Azriel nodded. “Okay,” he relented.

“Okay,” Rhys repeated. His hand clasped Azriel’s shoulder in support, giving his brother a meaningful look. “I know I sound like an asshole, but it will work out. I know it. You two are too special, in general and to each other for this not to work out.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the pain that came with his brother’s words.

He swallowed, composing himself before meeting his friend’s gaze with teary eyes of his own. “Tell Mor I’ll meet her on the border in an hour.”

-------------------------------------

You skipped training the next night, too emotionally drained to make it out of your room. Cassian hadn't come to find you, either. Maybe he had even heard of your argument with Azriel.

Instead of going to the training ring, you tried to read your books (pushing away the reminder that Azriel had gotten them for you), took some long baths, tried to write, and listened to music.

Nothing kept your mind distracted from what you had said to Azriel, though.

The instant relief that had coursed through your veins when the anger had seeped into the air, draining from where it had hardened in your chest and allowing you to feel lighter, changed over the course of the day into something just as volatile.

You felt guilty. So, insanely guilty.

You kept remembering the look on his face when you had mentioned Mor, Rhys, Gwyn, his mother…

The way his hands clenched and fiddled with themselves when you had told him you see them hurting you in your dreams.

The tears that streaked down his cheeks silently as you just kept on coming and coming, attacking and attacking.

And he had let you. He had stood there possibly from shock, guilt, care, and just let you tear into him without any retaliation.

You had never uttered words so cruel to someone.

And you hadn’t even meant them.

Sure, you had been so angry at him. You had felt so hurt and demeaned, that you wanted to do the same to him. But did you actually blame him for what had happened to his friends? Did he hold the responsibility for the entire world in his scarred hands?

Of course not. But you knew that he thought so. And you had used that against him.

Azriel had never meant for you to get hurt. You, on the other hand, had intentionally hurt him.

Did that not make you so much worse?

You cried yourself to sleep that next night, your actions sending you into a downward spiral of shame. Despite taking the tonic Madja had provided you for sleeping, you found yourself at the mercy of your guilt, your mind tormenting you with Azriel’s hurt and your own mistakes.

If you had known this dream would have taken a turn for the worse, creating a scenario that would haunt you even more than the memories of that night, you never would have closed your eyes.

It had started the same as the others: the snow, the alleyway, the blonde-haired male licking up your neck and reaching for your middle. This time though, when you brought the dagger down into the male’s neck, a familiar choking sound echoed into your ear.

Azriel.

The same noise that had escaped his lips after your weaponized words stabbed into him.

Then his hazel eyes met yours, the snow falling from Velaris’ night sky dusting his black hair. And there was so much pain, hurt, and betrayal in his gold and green irises that you felt sick.

“No-” you panicked, reaching out for him as the bright red blood poured down his neck and over your hands.

No, no, no. Not him. How could you have done this? You were hurting him, you were killing him.

Your hands moved quickly, pushing against the wound as sobs loudly slipped past your lips. "Azriel-" you started to say.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes tried to get your attention, but he was already weak, slipping through your hands and falling onto the pavement below.

When the dagger fell from his neck, you saw the charcoal-colored aggressive waves adorning the top of the hilt and nearly collapsed.

You had killed Azriel with his own weapon. The weapon he had lent to help you, you had taken and stabbed him in return. His support, his offer to make amends, his kind-hearted generosity toward you, turned around to tear into his lifeline.

You killed him.

And hurting him did not feel as good as you had imagined in that training ring, both then and now, snow falling onto his tan skin in the alleyway.

As you stared into his empty eyes, somehow still sparkling with the stars of Velaris, you couldn’t help but scream.

Waking from the nightmare was nearly as difficult as wading through it in your sleep. Your ears were ringing, throat sore, and mouth dry. You were so nauseous, your stomach gurgled as if it was warning you its contents could come up at any time.

You didn’t go to the library to read or run yourself another bath in an attempt to relax. Instead, you found yourself throwing the blankets off of yourself, still trying to catch your breath, and making your way hastily to Azriel’s door.

It seemed so similar to that first week after the assault, when you had sought out Cassian before relying on Azriel for a night. Only this time, as you stumbled through the hall, your only thought was on passing Cassian’s door and finding yourself in front of Azriel’s.

You felt so scared, so anxious, and for the first time in months it wasn’t for your own safety.

Your heart pounded in your chest as your toes padded down the cold floor. But it completely stopped when you noticed the difference in the House of Wind.

Azriel’s door, always left cracked with the light on since your first nightmare after the incident, was now closed, with nothing but black on the other side.

You nearly caved into yourself.

Who could blame him? You had been a terrible person. And despite what he had done to you, it was understandable if he never wanted to see or talk to you again.

Just the thought of him being in pain because of you behind that door…

You hesitantly stepped closer, bringing your fist up to the wood.

“I’m sorry,” he had whispered in your dream.

You knocked softly, waiting a few moments before calling out his name. When no response came, you couldn’t help the anxiety that coursed through you, bringing scared tears to your eyes.

Shaking on your toes a bit, you knocked again. Blood flashed across your mind, his lifeless eyes, his look of betrayal.

"Please," you whispered, calling out to him gently.

But you couldn't wait any longer. Your hands slowly twisted the doorknob, your mind not even thinking of the consequences of entering a spymaster's room unsolicited.

You would just see that he was alright and safe, and then you would go back to your room. Plus, his shadows would let him know you were entering, they would warn him of your presence and could push you out if need be.

At this thought, you suddenly noticed the lone shadow that had trailed you for months was no longer at your side. The darkness behind his door swallowed you whole at the realization. He was gone, done, and you along with him.

You spiraled further, pushing into the room and daring to look around.

It was empty. Darkness shaded the clean room, but there was no shadowsinger, no living presence occupying the space.

Was he on a mission? Did he leave without telling anyone?

His choking noise permeated through your mind again, and you found yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, the guilt and regret spreading so far into your gut you were sure it was physically damaging you.

Stumbling over to his bed, you collapsed onto it, first sitting before bringing your knees up to your chest and allowing yourself to seek out his warmth and scent in the duvet and sheets. He was okay, you told yourself. He was always okay.

But the lack of your shadow friend spoke volumes. He was done with you. Done trying to prove himself, done trying to be your friend. And it hurt just as bad now when he actively decided to leave you compared to when he did it unintentionally.

Because despite it all, you did love him. You had just become so hurt and destructive that you ruined yourself further in the process, striking out at him as collateral.

You buried yourself deeper into his covers, not even caring when your tears soaked into his pillow. And maybe you imagined the footsteps you heard outside Azriel’s door, the way Cassian’s door had opened and closed and a presence had hesitated outside of the shadowsinger’s room as if they were listening and contemplating.

You surely imagined Azriel coming home and allowing you to speak with him, and in these hopes you understood how he felt this whole time. The silence, the darkness, the guilt and self-hatred. And the never-ending fear that you had done something you could never repair. That you weren’t good enough or redeemable enough to repair.

The last image that crossed through your mind before your swollen eyes succumbed to sleep was Azriel’s face when he had seen you that first day in the kitchen with Rhys. His nervous and devastated but hopeful expression.

You hated yourself.

-------------------------------------

In the morning, Feyre paid you a visit.

She did not comment on you leaving Azriel’s room, but the look she gave you was observant.

The conversation had started out small with her asking how you were doing, checking in on your training progress, if you had been reading anything good lately, if you had tried the meal Cassian made last night for dinner.

Then it was silent, and she hesitated before steeling herself like the High Lady she was.

“Azriel left the other night. Whatever you had said to him, whatever had happened two nights ago, I’m not sure he deserved it.”

You didn’t want to ask about the state she had seen him in. You didn’t want to know how deep the damage you had dealt went, because if you pictured his hurt expression one more time, you thought you might actually shatter.

You stared down at your hands in disappointment and shame, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying. You weren’t the victim this time around; you didn’t deserve to cry. And your eyes hurt so bad from crying so much.

“I think you two should talk. Your relationship has become so destructive I’m not sure either of you will come out at the end. Talk.” She demanded, her voice firm.

You nodded in agreement, swallowing the lump in your throat down before asking what you had been wondering since last night. “Where did he go?”

“To the mortal lands with Mor. He needed some time.”

Of course. Of course he needed time, and you would give him that. But you needed him to know that you were at least sorry, because you had no idea when he would be ready to return.

“If I were to give you a letter for him, would you make sure he receives it?”

Feyre sighed, thinking about the consequences of the action, before finally softening and nodding. She understood the need to reach out after such an incident, and you noticed her eyes flicker as she doubtlessly thought back to when Rhys left for a bit before Starfall and ignored her own letters.

“Sure. But you must be kind.”

You nodded again, that pang of disappointment and shame flaring to life again in your chest, and you thought of all the things you needed and wanted to say to Azriel.

But when you actually went to put pen to paper later that night, you found yourself second-guessing everything.

You had gone too far in punishing him — for something he was not even completely to blame for — and he probably didn’t want to hear from you. You should let him breathe, give him time to think and unwind without your existence constantly ruining him.

But then you thought of him standing in the training ring, hurt, crying, alone, and your hands were moving.

Azriel, you started the letter. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I think I would regret not sending this to you, not telling you everything you deserve to hear. And I don’t want to regret anything else.

First, I need to apologize. Profusely. You don’t need to forgive me or give me another second of your time, but I am begging you to know and understand that I did not mean a word I said the other night. I could name a thousand reasons why the words went past my lips, but they will never unspeak them. I will forever regret that night, more than any other night in my life.

Please know that even in the times when I am carried away by anger, when I am less than human, less than any of you deserve, I have always admired you. Sometimes I think that made the anger worse, twining together with the care I have for you until it became some kind of warped emotional weapon.

I do think you are a hero. And redeemable and brave and a savior. And I’m sorry for ever trying to put in your mind that you are anything but. You have saved me more times than I could mention in the size of this letter, just in the time I have known you. Please know that.

I have no right to ask, not after everything we have gone through the last few months, but when you are ready, I would really like to sit down and speak with you. About everything.

Maybe we can find a way forward. Or at least a way to exist together without any pain.

You don’t need to respond. I will be here, and I can wait as you’ve waited for me to be ready to talk.

Be safe. If not for me then for yourself and your family.

Then you stopped. Because how were you supposed to sign this off? You pictured his frown at reading the letter, at your words he no longer trusted or felt warmth from. You hated that frown, the sadness you had seen from him so much as of late.

In the meantime, you wrote, I will read the books you left me, continue to purchase those tart pastries from near the Rainbow, and find comfort in your bedroom light remaining on, if not just to remind me of your kindness.

I appreciate your help, even when you are not near. And then you signed your name.

You would wait for his response (or lack of) and for his return. And then you would have the chance to talk. You would be able to hear his own thoughts, emotions, apologies, and curses before letting out your own.

Strength was what you needed until then. The strength to self-reflect on the blame you had placed on him, the words you had thrown around so carelessly. Strength that would get you through the oncoming storm, the marching warriors coming for Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys. The Illyrians wishing to overthrow the high lord and his enforcers, coming to take them down in any way they could.

Their marching was coming, the stomps matching the pounding in your chest.

You’d be strong, and you would wait for him to return. You would hold your ground, dagger at your side and heart hesitantly ready to be displayed.

And maybe, if all went in your favor, you two could finally have that talk.

#acotar x reader #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic

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rogueddie · 6 months

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Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.

His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.

But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.

It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.

Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.

It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.

He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.

But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.

He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.

"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"

"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."

They laugh, quickly moving on.

After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.

He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.

They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.

"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."

"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."

"It's ugly."

"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."

"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."

"No, it's not. It's special to me."

"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"

"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."

"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."

"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."

"If- what?"

"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"

"You've lost me."

Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.

"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"

"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"

"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."

Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"

"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."

"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

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m-ayo-o · 5 months

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ok ok ok this isn't fair i'm meant to be christmas shopping :'( also this is a hilarious ask to welcome in the ppl who just followed from the last fic lool tysm <3

(new people ! i write megumi aged tf up ! please unfollow or block if that's not ok w u thanks. also this is a hybrid bunny girl reader bc we like to keep it freaky here)

18+ afab bunny!reader x 21+ owner megumi + degradation, anal hybrid fics

"Mm, good morning, owner," you sniffle and yawn, waking up in his arms in a dreamy haze. He's behind you, spooning you so tight you can feel a distinct, thick bulge over your butt. You wriggle around with excitement, getting instantly turned on by his natural body.

"Mm, morning," he grunts back, pinching your nipple. You know he's not always in the best mood when he wakes up.

You just keep wiggling your cute ass over his boner and he's trying to keep you still, grabbing at your body, but he's only encouraging you, and you keep going till you're basically humping him. You're both already naked from last night so you can feel every inch.

"Bunny, you need to stop."

He groans and grips at your plushy ass, but you ignore him, grinding up and down, flicking your cute tail to tickle his tummy.

"Ngh- needy little thing, disobeying your owner."

He leans closer and breathes over your neck.

"Bunny are you gonna stop, like I told you to?"

He gives your neck a bite. You hum and give him a little look over your shoulder, but just keep going.

"Such a dumb girl, humping my dick like that. Can't even control yourself, can you?"

Unfortunately for you, his words just turn you on more and you let out a little moan when he tugs you open with his thumb.

"Look at this," he slips his thumb over your creamy folds, "needy, slutty little pussy."

He suddenly slides his fingers in, giving you a round of rough pumps.

"You want my dick in here?"

"Ngh- hnn- uh huhh-"

"Aw, well that's too bad."

He slides his fingers out and gathers all your wet slick over your ass.

"Disobedient little bunnies don't get what they want."

One finger led to another and with a lot of lube and grunting and whimpering he finally got his dick inside you. Just not where you needed it.

But it's where he needed it and you have no idea how much he's wanted to do this to you, especially when your cotton tail twitches and wiggles- he just wants to tug at it and expose your gorgeous little ass so he can stuff you full.

Doing it this way won't even help to appease that burning heat in your core and he knows that and it makes him feel so powerful like he's the only one who can make you feel good, and if he says no you're just not getting that relief. But he gets it- and oh god he gets it so good- your ass feels so much tighter than he ever imagined, he's gonna cum bucket loads even after filling you to the brim last night.

"Ugh, bunny I need to get in your ass more often- so fucking hot."

But for you, with him completely ignoring your needs and now roughly abusing that cute ass of yours, it's all getting a bit much.

"Megumii, owner-" you're crying and grabbing onto the pillows for dear life. Yeah, it feels good, you love it when he gets so crazed like this, but your sweet and silky pussy is just so fucking empty and aching to be filled (if only Yuji were here, too).

"'s- 's not fair," you sniffle and bury your head in the cushions, "you're sooo meee-eann!!"

"Haha, oh bunny, you think I'm mean?"

You nod and feel him sliding out, making your head go all dizzy.

"No, bunny, you're just spoiled."

He takes your hips in his hands, pinning you face down into the mattress. You shake your head and try to protest, shoving back on his thighs in attempts to deny him access to your cute little hole.

"I can show you mean, if you want?"

Your eyes go wide and you gasp when you feel him spread your cheeks, hearing him release a drop of spit on your hole before licking his lips. He guides his cock over you and teases your little ass.

"Want your owner to show you, hm?"

He waits for what he needs to hear. He's a very patient man.

"Just- please Megumi, you can't stop, need- to feel your cum, please!"

"So entitled, baby."

He tugs on your cheeks and admires that tight ring and how pretty you are here before sinking all the way in with a deep groan.

"Let your owner teach you some manners."

And before the end of the night he has you begging for his cum.

"Where?" He growls, his grip on your wrists getting tighter as he nears his release.

"In my ass, please, please, Meg-uummii, need to feel it-!!"

"Fuck- ugh, bunny, baby, say my name again if you want me to cum-" he pants and tugs on your arms harshly.

"Ngh- pl-please Megumii- when y-you're gonna cum, please spank me!"

Huh?

His hand comes flying to your ass cheek with a burning slap and he shoots his load instantly. Your hole spasms with the pain and pleasure and just milks him dry, making him cum so hard his head starts to tingle.

"Ugh- that's it bunny, fuck- good, good girl."

He comes down for a moment and leans over your spent body, pressing kisses to your shoulders, over the bite marks there, and whispers in your ear that you did so well and that later today he'll reward his pretty bunny. And when he says reward you know it's going to be multiple rounds in your very needy bunny pussy until his cum is spilling out of you with your legs in the air or around his neck.

megumi | m.list

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #female reader #megumi fushiguro #18+ content #megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi <3 #bunny!reader #bunny owner #bunny girl #hybrid reader

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rainyreading · 4 months

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Hatred - Theo Nott

theodore nott x reader

wc: 3.0k

a/n: requests open

(my gif)

Unfortunately, your alarm didn't go off this morning so you were running late for breakfast. You cursed to yourself as you rushed to get ready. The already early morning turned you into a sour mood. You were pissed off because you were late.

By a miracle you were able to get to the dinning hall just in time to get some food. When you arrived you spotted your usual table with your friends. You sat down in the only empty seat next to Pansy and across from Draco.

You had a scowl on your face and started serving yourself some food.

"Ah look who finally graced us with her presence," Draco announced.

"Shut up Draco," you hissed.

Draco put his hands up in defense. Then you noticed Theo snickering. He then whispered something to Draco which you didn't hear what it was. Typical of Theo you thought. Yeah you didn't like each other. In fact you hated each other. But you had to tolerate each other for the sake of your friend group.

"What are you blabbering about Theo?"

"Your robes are on backwards, princess." Theo grinned smugly.

God you hated him, and how embarrassing! You quickly waved your wand and muttered a spell that put your robes on facing the correct way.

"Wipe that smile off your face, would you!" you barked at Theo.

"Pansy would you pass me a muffin?" you asked.

"Sure," she replied, then she handed you a chocolate chip muffin.

Theo rolled his eyes and you gave him the middle finger.

You ate breakfast and did your best to avoid Theo. It was pleasant for the most part. You sat talking to your friends about the day, about anything really.

Next, you went to your classes. Your fourth class was potions. You went to sit down at your usual table, mentally preparing to do schoolwork.

Professor Snape went on and on about different kinds of potions, it made you bored outa your mind.

"Alright class listen up please. I'm assigning a project you will have a partner for. The two of you will work together to create a Dizziness Draught."

"I put a list of who you're paired with by the door," Snape finished.

By then end of class you were itching to get out. You did however stop by the door to see who was your partner.

"Y/n, y/n, y/n..." you whispered scanning for your name.

You finally found your name and you dragged your finger to the other side of the paper only to see the name Theodore Nott starring back at you.

The feelings you felt inside you made you want to gag. How could this be happening? Theo as your partner. How horrifying.

Theo strolled up to you while you were standing there in shock, "Looks like we're partners, can't wait," he shot you a wink, which you gave him a look of disgust in return.

—————

Unfortunately, the next day in class you had to work on your project. Theo was there at the chosen table waiting for you. You had a look of displeasure on your face as you walked over.

"Alright let's get this over with," you spoke.

"Aw don't you love me," Theo teased.

"Quite the opposite actually. I find you repulsive," you gave him a tight lipped smile.

"Funny, love." Theo said coolly.

"Don't call me that or I'll hex you!" you warned.

"Alright bossy boots let's work on the assignment."

"Gladly."

The two of you worked quietly trying your best not to fight. The project wasn't that hard but it would take a few days to complete, which you were dreading.

Eventually the potions class ended and it was time for lunch. You wanted to sit as far away from Theo as possible. So you snagged a seat at the end of the table.

After a few minutes Pansy joined you and sat down across from you.

"What are you doing way down here?" she asked.

"I'm avoiding Theo," you responded.

"Really why?"

"He's annoying and I don't want to see him," you explained.

"Aw really. I think you guys would be cute together!" Pansy announced.

"You've got to be joking. Are you crazy? I hate him and i'm pretty sure he hates me." you spoke astonished.

"Are you sure about that, I think he likes you. Why else would he bother you so much," Pansy smirked.

"You're delusional. There's no way," you scoffed.

Despite denying it, you couldn't stop thinking about what Pansy said. You were deep in thought, wondering how it was possible you never saw or thought of it before.

You did your best to get it out of your mind but it was harder than you thought.

———————

After a long day you headed back to your dorm to take a shower. The day took a toll on you so you were excited to have time to unwind. You hopped in the shower and washed away the day.

When you got out you did your nightly skincare routine. Your hair was in a towel as you did it. When you took your hair down, to your horror you saw that your hair was green.

"Oh my god!" you screeched.

You looked in the mirror in shock. You moved side to side to see if your whole head was covered and it was. Who could of done this?! You were going ballistic. How could this of happened? Did I do something wrong?

Frustration settled in the pit of your stomach. How were you going to get this out? This problem would have to wait til morning. You were tired from the days events and needed rest.

Angrily you got into bed and pulled the comforter up to your chin. You went to bed thinking about how you were going to face everyone.

—————

When you woke up you were dreading the days events. You were expecting everyone to laugh at you and you wanted to hide away in your dorm forever.

Reluctantly you got up and got ready for the day. Your roommate came out from the bathroom and when she saw you she gasped.

"Oh my merlin what happened to your hair?!" she asked shocked.

"I'm not totally sure. My hair was normal then i took a shower and then it wasn't. It's a monstrosity I know," you frowned.

"It's not that bad," your roommate laughed.

"Yes it is and you know it," you argued.

"There has to be some sort of spell to fix this," you grumbled.

"I'll look in the library for you and see if I can come up with something," she offered.

"Really that would be great, in the mean time i'll just wear a hat," you announced.

Hesitantly you went to the great hall after you finished getting ready. You hoped your hat wouldn't draw a lot of attention to your hair. You were walking down the hall when you got shoved hard.

You almost hit the ground from the force of the shove. Your books came crashing down to the floor. The person that hit you couldn't of gone far. You looked around to see Theo on the side of you laughing.

Theo gave you a smug look before saying, "Watch where you're going!"

You frowned at him and went to pick up your books. In the process of doing so Theo ripped off your hat and tossed it to the floor.

"Theo! What the hell!" you shouted.

"What? Now everyone can see your green mess," he smirked.

"How did yo-, Wait a minute did you do this?" you gestured to your hair.

Theo smiled proudly, "Yes I did, green is your color."

Little did you know Theo snuck into your dorm and put hair dye in your conditioner.

"I'm gonna kill you!" You started to chase Theo and he was faster. He of course had your hat that he picked up off the floor, that you desperately needed back.

Theo ran straight into Ms. McGonagall. Who didn't look too happy. "What's all the ruckus about hm?" She gave her look of disapproval.

"Nothing really we're just having some fun," Theo lied.

"Your hair Ms. Y/L/N," she stated shocked.

"Yeah you can thank Theo for that," you crossed your arms.

"You did this?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes ma'am," Theo bowed his head.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you detention," she said sternly.

"You as well Ms. Y/L/N."

"What did I do?" You questioned.

"You haven't turned in your transfiguration essay."

"Oh," you sucked in a breath through your teeth.

"Yeah see you both at the end of the day, now get to class."

"Great I have to spend time in detention with that prick!" you thought to yourself.

When McGonagall was out of sight, Theo pulled your hair and said, "See ya later greenie, looking forward to it." And with that he was gone leaving you completely and utterly annoyed.

—————

The day was long. There was a handful of people making fun of you and teasing you in every class and at every meal time.

Unfortunately, your time in detention with Theo was coming up. You were dreading it. Spending an hour or more with no one else but Theo was torture.

You were beyond pissed, with him for messing up your hair. You wanted to get him back, you just didn't know how. With revenge on your mind you walked to Ms. McGonagall's classroom.

When you arrived Theo was already there. You rolled your eyes at him and took a seat. The professor explained your jobs to do during detention and you got to work.

McGonagall left the classroom to attend to some other business, leaving the two of you alone. Great. Just what you wanted. You simply decided to ignore him if he tries to talk to you, busying yourself with your task.

Theo kept stealing glances at you from across the room. Truth be told Theo liked you. A lot. He just didn't know how to express his feelings. So he bothered you trying to get you to notice him.

Theo fancied you from the very beginning. The moment he saw you he know he was done for. He didn't know how to act around you because he thought you were too good for him. He felt like he didn't deserve you. So he decided on being rude rather than nice to make himself stand out.

If he ever did catch your eye he would treat you with respect and be loyal, loving and kind. Now that he had you all to himself in a room with no professor he was excited. This was his chance. All he had to do was not to blow it.

"For what it's worth I think your hair looks good," Theo announced.

Your head shot up as you looked in Theo's direction. "Your joking right?" you responded.

"No i'm serious," Theo frowned.

"Yeah right," you scoffed.

Theo let out a sigh. How was he going to do this? How was he gonna make you believe he is serious about you given the history of him being mean.

"We're alone together might as well make the best of it," Theo reasoned.

"And what do you suggest we do?"

"Well maybe we could ask each other questions?" Theo suggested.

"Why would I do that with you?" You stated appalled.

"Because there's nothing else to do,"

You had no idea why Theo was being civil. It just made you suspicious. You wondered if he was having ulterior motives.

"I'd rather eat rocks," you bit out.

"Come on Y/N," Theo begged.

"I hate you," you spat.

"I'll go first, what do you like to do on the weekends?" Theo asked.

"I'm not doing this Theo," you hissed frustrated.

"Please," Theo begged.

"You know what whatever. I like to read and hang out with my friends," you gave in.

"Interesting. Now it's your turn to ask a question." Theo explained.

"Ok. If you could only drink coffee or tea for the rest of your life, which one would you choose?"

"Um personally Im a tea man, definitely tea."

"That makes sense you seem like a tea guy," you shared.

"Ok let's see. Do you believe in second chances?" Theo questioned.

"Um to an extent yeah."

"Alright um what are the things you wish you could easily forget?" you asked.

"Well my family life it pretty messed up so probably my childhood memories," Theo answered.

Ms. McGonagall came walking in and she said we were free to go, before you got a chance to respond.

Theo smiled at you before he left and you felt an odd feeling in your stomach.

——————

After a couple of days later your roommate found a spell to change your hair back. You were beyond relieved to get rid of the green. It was nice to have your hair back to normal.

It was time for another Hogsmeade trip. It was a Saturday and you were excited to go with your friends. You started walking there with Pansy, Draco and Blaise. Theo just happened to be there too walking behind you.

You were in your way to Honeydukes, wanting to get some sweets for the week.

Adrian Pucey came up to you on your way to Honeydukes. He interrupted your conversation with Pansy, and said, "Hey Y/N, you look really beautiful today."

You had no interest in him at all. You were quite repulsed. But you decided to be polite anyway.

"Thank you."

"Would you like to get some butter beer with me at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Are you asking me out?" you asked confused.

"Well yeah I am." Adrian smiled.

Little did you know Theo was clenching his fist behind you because he could hear every word. How dare someone else ask you out. You were his and his alone even if you didn't know it yet.

"I appreciate the gesture but no thank you, I'm really sorry," you apologized.

"Oh come on one drink, please," Adrian begged.

"Adrian I said no," you huffed.

"Fine. Your a slut anyway," he spat.

Just as the words left his mouth, Theo pushed past you, and grabbed Adrian by the collar. "What did you just say?" Theo was fuming.

"I said she-she's a slut," Adrian stuttered.

"Yeah that's not gonna fly," Theo's fist collided with Adrian's face. Theo then got him on the ground and was on top of him punching him.

"I'm not afraid of you Nott," Adrian croaked out.

Draco and Blaise could see Adrian getting beat up and bloody so they knew they had to step in. Draco got one side and Blaise got the other and pulled Theo off of Adrian.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Theo yelled.

"I'm not gonna hit him I swear!"

Draco and Blaise looked at each other uncertain if they should let him go. Before they could make a decision, Theo broke out of their grip and dragged Adrian and got him up against the wall.

"If you so much as breathe near her I will kill you, now get out of my sight." Theo seethed.

Adrian scrambled away in pain holding his bloody face. You stood there in shock at what just happened. Theo stood up for you. But why? You were beyond confused. You didn't want anyone to get hurt over you but you couldn't help think what Theo did was kind of sweet.

Theo thought that he should of made Adrian apologize to you. Theo was raging. You were perfect in his eyes. You could do no wrong. Then here was some guy calling you names just because you wouldn't go out with him. How absurd.

Theo was no where to be found after that. You wanted to thank him for standing up for you. You decided to go to Honeydukes and then the Three Broomsticks with Pansy.

When you were leaving the Three Broomsticks you saw Theo leaning up against a wall. You told Pansy to go ahead and that you'll catch up with her later.

"There you are," you spoke.

"Here I am," Theo responded.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did back there. I mean you didn't have to beat him to a pulp but, thanks for standing up for me," you expressed.

"Aw it was nothing," Theo nonchalantly replied.

"You didn't have to do that but you did. Why?"

"Well um I don't know how to put this but I like you."

"What?"

"I like you." Theo put out.

"You have a funny way of showing it," you began.

"Look I know I haven't been the nicest to you but that was because I felt like I didn't deserve you and I was pissed off. I wanted to stand out from all the other guys," Theo explained.

"You didn't have to be mean, I notice you now," you whispered.

"Oh cara mia, I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. From now on I promise to treat you with love and respect. You deserve the world and more and I'll do my very best to give you that," Theo pleaded.

You walked up to him and put your hands on ether side of his face, and kissed him. The kiss was soft and tender. The delicate kiss turned into a heated one. Theo was relieved that you kissed him. He needed it.

You were confident and excited. Your lips were locking together in a devouring kiss. Theo pulled away to grin at you and then he dived back in bringing fire and passion to the kiss.

Theo's chest felt warm and he could feel the blood rushing through his veins. Your stomach was tingly and your heart was palpitating. Theo's hands were resting on your hips.

One of your hands on his cheek slid back into his hair. You slightly tugged on his hair and Theo groaned into your mouth.

As you continued to make out Theo took hold of your upper arms and switched placed with you. So now you were up against the wall. Your lungs were clenching and you needed air so you reluctantly pulled away.

Theo was out of breath when he said, "your mine forever got that?"

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mitsies · 8 months

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❊ shootin' hoops! - childe . . ajax can't get enough of you. meanwhile, you've definetely had it with him.

ajax is 19 when he falls in love with you.

he meets you in his second year of college, in a stupid, annoying, lame sociology class which he's only in because it's a requirement to his major. why else would he be in a dank room at 8 in the morning? oh, he hates it. the class is slow-paced. his professor is even slower. an old, little man. ajax bets that he could bench his weight. and maybe a little more than that, too, without breaking a sweat.

the class sucks, and it's not even hard, and he would probably skip every single one and pass with a hundred and ten percent. and he really, really considers this course of action, too. until, he sees you in the back of the classroom. he doesn't think he's seen you before. he'd remember if he did.

wow, you look pretty. wow, you're cool. and wow, maybe he'll stick around for the lecture tomorrow after all. ajax grins to himself. and maybe he'll bench his professor, too, if you'd think that was cool. would that make him look strong, and show off his muscles? then he might really try.

after the class lets out (which takes light years, he's convinced) he makes a beeline to where you're packing up your notebook and stationary. "lame class, huh?"

you turn at his words, eyes wide as you take him in. ajax smiles with his teeth, and he can imagine all the girls and guys in the class swooning, he can practically hear their thoughts; 'oh, who's that cute guy? his dimples are so adorable! oh, wow, i should ask his number. he looks like he would be the star player of our college's basketball team! so muscular, and cool!'

and if they're all thinking that, oh, he can't even conceptualise what you must be thinking. he feels butterflies, and a little dizzy, and a lot anxious— but in a cool way, of course— when you open your mouth to respond.

"i thought it was cool, actually."

he's breathless for a second because wow, woah, oh god, your voice is just as nice— no, it's better, than he'd imagined it. and then he registers what you'd just said and it takes everything in him to stay composed as his brain short-circuits looking for something to say in response. so-long to his ingenious plan of bonding over mutual hatred of your professor. hm. he's kind of backed himself in a corner. oh, well, it seems like he'll have to rely on his massive charm to get him through to you. not a problem!

"really? you've got awful taste."

your face sours. his heart thunders— oh, you're so, so cute. he likes it when you look at him like that. actually, he likes it when you look at him in general. he likes the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you're irritated. the way you look like you've tasted something bitter makes him think— would your lips taste sour, too? like lemons, and limes? like biting into a cardamom pod?

before he can think about it too much, you speak again, and he's entranced— again. "just my thoughts."

"well clearly, you don't think much."

you blink at him. your eyelashes frame your eyes so nicely, too. he wonders if there's a colour that encapsulates the shade of them. ajax thinks that your eyes are like the rest of you— indescribable. and then you scoff, and walk away with your bag slung over a shoulder, and he can't wait to see you tomorrow.

three weeks go by. ajax doesn't think he could be more in love.

he's showed up to sociology every single day, just for the sake of seeing you. lighting up like a match the second you show up in the doorframe, and going out in a similar fashion once you're gone. he relishes every single second in your company. he carves every half-smile and every grimace, and every time you purse your lips in confusion and every time you nod along to the professor when you understand. oh, he's in love. and it's bad. it's so bad.

"don't tell me you're actually doing the extra credit work," he says, staring at open laptop on your desk. it's work time, and while ajax could hypothetically leave, you're staying, so he's staying too.

you glance up at him. lord knows how you've put up with him for so long. he's annoying, he's bothersome, he does not leave you alone, not for a second. the only time he sees you is sociology so he's got to make the most of it. "i've got nothing better to do, ajax."

oh, he loves, loves, loves it when he says your name. it might be his favourite sound in the world. "you could leave. it's a free class."

you raise a brow— "you could leave too."

"i could. but what'd you do without me?"

you laugh the littlest bit, and he feels a dozen times lighter. maybe your laugh is actually his favourite sound, he can't decide. "probably be a lot more productive."

he likes what you have. he likes this friendship-ish kind of thing. he likes that you only hate him sometimes, and that you can stand to be around him other times. that's not to say he's satisfied. oh, not even close. 3 weeks were enough for ajax to imagine it— a lifetime. he imagines holding your hand at graduation. and he imagines movie nights turned sleepovers, and he imagines what colours you'd choose for the bedsheets of your first house together. he imagines lists of names. he imagines forever. but this is a good start. you're 50-50 now, he's just got to work on that hundred percent.

and, in his opinion, 3 weeks is a long, long time. that's 7 whole days of 24 whole hours. and only god knows how many minutes are in those hours. way too many, he thinks. he's smart enough to know that good things take time, but he doesn't think that he can be only your classmate-sometimes-friend for any longer. he wants more. needs it.

you speak before he can reply, "you really have nothing to be working on?"

he probably does. a lot of business homework, something math related undoubtedly. but that wouldn't take him too long. so he opens his mouth to say as much when he remembers— he likely wouldn't have time later tonight. oh, but he's already not been doing his work— would it be embarrassing to start now? would you think he's stupid? he's so cool, and he'd hate if you didn't agree. in any other situation, he'd pop open his notebooks and get to work. but you make him all conscious, and nervous, and hot in the face. and how long has it been since you asked? he should probably respond. you stare expectantly and he feels warm all over, maybe almost as hot as he looks. (you'd agree. right? you would.)

"maybe just a few small things," he grins at you, "but i can squeeze them in before my game tonight."

you hum in response. "i forgot there was one tonight. against our rivals, right?"

his heart warms— you remembered who it was against. you might've forgotten about it in general, but you remembered it. that must be a good sign. oh, he's got this in the bag.

"yeah. at 7."

you smile at him. he thinks he might die right there. "well, good luck. i'm sure you'll do great."

he beams at the compliment, heart thundering like a caged bird between his ribs. compliments always meant more from you. he could probably definitely recall every single one you've ever spoken to him, if he tried. (and probably even if he didn't.)

ajax doesn't miss a beat, this time. "i'd probably do a lot better if you were there cheering me on."

he doesn't miss it. he doesn't miss the way your mouth twists a little bit in surprise, because this was really not what you were expecting. and he definitely, doesn't miss the way your eyes slide over to your hands, and your fingers which are suddenly all too fidgety. he's embarrassed you. his boyish grin grows tenfold. "don't tell me i've got you going shy on me."

you roll your eyes in mock annoyance, and he knows you well enough at this point to know you're trying to hide your bashfulness. "oh, you wish."

"you're right. i do."

you freeze. he doesn't think he could hide his joy at your embarrassment even if he wanted to, even if he tried. it's hard for ajax to pinpoint his favourite one of your feelings— he thinks you're cute all the time. he thinks it's funny when you're disgusted, or annoyed. he thinks you're adorable when you're happy, and especially so when you're sleepy. but he's beginning to suspect that he's especially fond of you when you're flustered like this.

the professor speaks. ajax's mood is instantly a little more sour because god, even the man's voice is slow and boring. the free class was officially dismissed, and students were free to go. under any other circumstances, ajax would be happy about this. but he really does have to go. he wishes you could come with him. he wishes you could come with him everywhere, really.

"are you serious?"

your question catches him off guard. you're looking at him again, with those pretty eyes, and you have a familiar expression on— it's one he recognises as confusion. you're confused. he softens, more than he thought possible. it takes everything in him to resist pressing a kiss to the apple of your cheek, the crease of your furrowed brows, the corner of your lip where an unconscious pout makes itself known. and he realises he might've been unclear with his advances. so he meets your eyes and says, "of course i am. i'm serious about you if you are about me, yeah?"

it's some kind of consent, or acknowledgment. that what you both have can and probably will evolve. you're smart enough to know that he knows, and he's smart enough to know that you know. and you nod softly, and smile like flower petals, and he decides he'll never get over you. he'll never need another.

"i'll see if i can go tonight. but if not, i'll text you."

he thinks he's the happiest person alive. he could kiss you right then, right there, but your wrinkly old dustbag of a professor is still in the room and he won't entertain the geezer. "i'll see you."

he doesn't see you until the final quarter of the game, but you've been there the whole time.

his team is winning, of course, because they have him, but he's been out of it all game. any moment he can, he's scanning the stands with a watchful eye. it's one of the biggest games of the season. he knows he should be laser-focused, but he's not and it's all your fault. there must be hundreds of faces pressed together and he can't seem to find yours. until he does.

you're closer to the ground than he thought you'd be. hiding in plain sight. and when he sees you, he swears he might start floating. there are flowers in his chest, blooming an ache deep inside. something so disgustingly sweet, so addictingly sickening is awoken at the sight of you in his team's colour. he thinks you'd look beautiful in his spare jersey. he smiles, and it's all teeth. a vicious kind of adrenaline fills him as the next play is called to begin. he thinks he'll give it to you after he wins.

and wins he does. with flying colours, really— the other team didn't really stand a chance to begin with, not as soon as he saw you there cheering him on. his teammates flock to him like sheep, piling on him and shouting things he can't really hear over the general public's applause of the home team's victory. and everything is happening; his coach is slapping his back, his teammate is dragging him somewhere, someone's handing him water, people are screaming his name, yelling about his winning shot, and all he hears is his breathing, and all he sees is you, standing with your hands clasped and lips pressed together in a smile. all he sees is you, so you're the first person he runs to.

since you're in the first stand to the bottom, it's easy for him to clear the guard rail and get to your side. someone in the background shouts his name. he doesn't care. the people who were previously next to you are shoved aside— he doesn't care at all. he's right there with you.

"you came," his breath comes raspy, dry. "you came to see me."

you shrug nervously, "i guess i did."

so he kisses you. ajax is 19 when he falls in love, for the first and last time. ajax is 19 when he kisses you, and he's young, and he's stupid, and he will never regret this, not ever, not when you kiss him back almost instantly, pulling him close by his jersey. it feels so right, it feels too real to be true. he's got to be dreaming. any second now, he expects his daft old professor's voice to scold him for falling asleep during a lecture. but the voice never comes, and you really do taste like lemons and spice, and he hears phone cameras clicking and cheering grow tenfold and he doesn't care because he gets to kiss you.

at some point, you break away. your face is red-hot and he can feel the warm blood flooding your cheeks with how close your faces remain. he ikes it when your lips are swollen because of his. he likes it when your eyes are fixed on him. he likes you. he thinks he was doomed to like you from the start.

when the background finally fades back in, he sees his teammates cheering and ooh-ing like stupid junior high boys. you seem a little disoriented, so he laughs and pulls you away from the stands, helping you climb down the safety rail with a hand in yours and another on the small of your back.

ajax hates his sociology class. he hates the lectures, his professor, the subject— but something good came of it. because he really loves you. with your cardamom tongue and smile lines, and the crease of your eyebrows when you're annoyed, and all of it, and more. he loves you the most. more than anything.

flowers chosen: small sunflower & pink camellia . . adoration & longing for you

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

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reallyromealone · 7 months

Text

Day sixteen 🎃 curroption

Pantalone x Barbara's brother male reader

Warnings: male reader, nsfw, smut, slight dubious consent, tough sex, blowjobs, facials, bottom male reader

Masterlist

(Name) hummed as he wandered the path, currently on a pilgrimage throughout the countries to give prayer to the gods and learn about the other lands beyond his own, dressed in winter clothes he was thankful he brought //imagine Barbara's outfit but fur lined and more masculine// as be looked through the endless winter before him.

Snezhnaya was not far off from what he was told but he found the cold almost delightful as the snow crunched beneath his shoes.

The young Deacon looked for a church or Cathedral of anything throughout the city when he noticed up high on a hill was a grand cathedral "thank goodness..."

"Excuse me?" A young girl dressed in fur lined clothes asked "who are you?" She asked curiously and (name) smiled warmly "I'm a Deacon of Mondstadt, I'm currently on a pilgrimage" he said with a kindness like no other, an emotional warmth radiating off him and giving a sense of safety.

"Really? That's so cool?" The girl said wide eyed and the two were unaware of Fatui guards taking notice of this and bringing the information of a Mondstadt Deacon in their city to Pantalone.

(Name) was in awe at the country and despite its unforgiving weather the people were kind to him, regarding him warmly as he made his way to the cathedral.

"Pardon me, are you the Deacon I heard of?" A deep elegant voice rang out, catching (name)s attention to the tall man with a false smile "hello! Yes, my (name) is (name)! A pleasure to meet you!" Pantalone noted be couldn't be older than 19, a bright and cheerful nature and radiating innocence and purity.

Pantalone wanted to own this adorable bunny.

"What brings you to our fair country little Deacon?" The spectacled man asked with false curiousity, trying to get information from the pretty boy who beamed and told him so honestly what he was doing "very noble of you, you must make those at home proud" Pantalone comments and (name) shook his head "I don't do this for the praise of others, I do it for the gods... They all deserve prayer and kindness..." He said genuinely and Pantalone was a greedy greedy man.

"Would you like to join me for dinner?"

Pantalone was selfish and greedy as he took in the others form as he watched (name) take off his coat to reveal how wonderful he was on the eyes.

"Thank you very much for inviting me! You have a beautiful home" (name) said genuinely and Pantalone imagined how wonderful he would look perched on his lap or spread in his bed dressed in barely anything or better yet nothing at all.

(Name) stared at him with his full attention, as if he were the the gods the Deacon prayed to.

"I must confess... I didn't ask you to join me to dinner for innocent reasons..." A false remorse making (name) look confused but let him continue "you see I was entranced by your beauty..."

He was entranced by his beauty, his innocence and would make an excellent lover to him.

"I must say... I find you quite handsome" (name) was flushed as he looked away, embarrassed at his confession only for the man to pull him closer "that's very sweet of you to say" Pantalone gently took his chin with his index and thumb "you're so beautiful..." He whispered before taking (name)s lips, pulling him into his lap fully and hands wasting no time touching "w-wait..." (Name) gasps, clinging and already debauched from a kiss "t-tgat was my first..."

"Kiss? Tell me... Have you ever bedded a man before?"

"I... I never..."

Pantalone grinned as he moved so (name) was under him and wasted no time recapturing his lips, determined to break his brain till he could only remember the feeling of his cock in him.

(Name) felt dizzy as be tried to keep up, covering himself when the other removed his shirt "don't cover yourself" Pantalone said pinning his arms above his head with one hand and continued his exploration, biting and sucking anywhere to get those sweet inexperienced moans from the others lips as his hand moved to rub the Deacons clothes cock, groping and playing with it before slipping under to fondle with the hardened cock, hot and leaking with pre-cum.

"Already close to cumming?" Pantalone teased "is my slutty little Deacon close?"

"I-I..."

"I-I" Pantalone mocked as he licked one of his nipples "come on bunny speak up"

"I don't... I-I don't know... Knot..."

"A knot? Where?"

"My stomach.."

"That means your slutty little cock is going to cum..." Pantalone said gripping his cock and jerking it off and watching the Deacon come undone "you ruined your pants..." Pantalone tisked as he stripped the beautiful man fully "such a wonderful body..." He breathed out as he took in the other.

mondstadt didn't deserve him.

"Wanna be a good boy?" Pantalone asked with a condicendingly sweet tone and (name) hazily nodded, unsure what he want but he wanted more...

"Then get on your knees infront of me"

(Name) moved so he was on his knees before the other, looking up at him so innocently "be a good boy and suck my cock nicely, get it ready"

(Name) wasn't fully sure what he was getting it ready for as the banker fished it from his expensive pants and gently smacked (name)s face with it "hop to little bunny" and watched (name) nervously take the cock in his hands, almost in awe at it's size as he pumped it a few times before tentatively putting it in his mouth.

"Good boy..." Pantalone said with a sigh as (name) sucked his cock like he was made to do so, he knew there was an eager slut underneath that Innocence...

(Name) didn't understand why he wanted to be such a good boy to the man whom he just met, never being touched like this before and found it additive.

(Name)s mouth was like a vacuum, the sweetheart giving it his all and Pantalone decided that he was going to put a ring on his pretty little finger, make him stay here forever.

Dress him in pretty clothes and break his pretty brain and form it into a dumb cum slut.

That sounded wonderful.

Pantalone gripped the back of his head as he slowly fucked his mouth with a low groan, feeling the others hands grip his thighs, loving the fact he was fully dressed compared to the Deacon being nude as it should be from now on.

(Name) looked so hazy and almost adoring as he bobbed his head, the taste and feeling addictive and the weight of it on his tongue was wonderful.

(Name) gasped as Pantalone forced his mouth off his cock, mouth open with a gasp as he came on his face, white ropes like a wedding veil and Pantalone felt himself harden again as (name) licked the cum almost hypontized as he did so "god you're such a little slut"

Pantalone could see (name) was almost in a headspace, the eager bunny just wanting to please his owner.

"Come here" Pantalone pat his lap and (name) crawled in it, their cocks touching "if you wish to continue I must tell you something" Pantalone said seriously and (name) nodded slowly "if you wish to have sex with me, you cannot leave my side again, I am a selfish greedy man and I refuse to let such a precious thing like you go"

"Was this not... You know... That?"

Even after sucking cock and getting jerked off the sweetheart still couldn't bring himself to say sex, god he was precious.

"Oh darling we barely begun~" Pantalone said groping his ass cheeks "would... I be able to visit my family...?" (Name) said holding back a moan "I could arrange it..." Pantalone said and (name) bit his lip "would we be... Lovers?"

"That's my intention" Pantalone took one of (name)s hands and kissed his knuckles, watching the Deacon swoon "please... Have uh... sex with me" he whispered the last bit as Pantalone grinned, watching as (name) sealed his fate forever.

(Name) yelped as Pantalone lifted him, cock hanging heavy as he walked through the halls of the grand mansion till they reached the master bedroom and the man placed (name) on the expensive sheets, mentally noting how perfect he was in the pattern.

Pantalone grinned as he grabbed an expensive bottle of oil, pouring it on his hands "this may be uncomfortable" Pantalone said leaning to kiss his thigh before spreading the others legs "oh my, aren't you flexible" Pantalone grinned before his oil covered fingers moved lower to prod at his entrance and gently pushed in, not wanting to hurt his bunny...well at least not like that.

(Name) whined at the foreign intrusion "shhh" Pantalone silenced the other as he began moving his finger and pumping in slowly, (name) head lulled as he let out soft moans and pants, mouth opening wide when the other added another finger and doing a combination of a skissor motion and a hithering motion, stretching and pleasuring his sweet lover.

His lover.

God Pantalone would spoil him to hell.

(Name)s hips spasmed a bit as Pantalone hit his prostate dead on "w-what...?"

"Seems I found your prostate, that's a spot inside you that's going to make you go insane" he smiled before adding a third finger and without warning began aggressively finger fucking the poor man and fingers beating against his prostate.

"Ohh~ I-I can't... To much~" (name) was shaking and crying as his toes curled and looked like a mess but god was he beautiful Pantalone noted silently, already fucked out and he hadn't even put his cock in yet.

God he loved how honest he was with his reactions.

(Name) was so close, he could feel the knot tighten again.

Then Pantalone retracted his fingers, grinning sadistically as (name) looked annoyed and confused "don't worry, the best part his coming"

Pantalone lubed his own cock before rubbing it at (name)s entrance before pushing his cock in "hn!" (Name) cried out as he clung to Pantalone "t-to much... Can't fit..." (Name) cried out and the black haired man kissed him "shhh it will fit don't worry" Pantalone soothed and (name) cried softly as the other bottomed out fully "you're doing so well, do you like my cock?"

"Big..."

Pantalone felt his ego rocket as he began slowly thrusting back and forth, caging (name) in his arms as the poor man clung to anything he could "ah ah!" (Name)s moans bounced with each thrust, the stretch and sensation of the head rubbing against his prostate to much as his eyes crossed a little, moans increasing in volume as Pantalone increased his movements and slowly began pistoning his hips, the sound of skin slapping and beautiful moans filling the room "I-I" (name) tried speaking but got cut off by his own moan as the two shared a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing as he fucked into (name), the Deacon cross eyed and swore he was going to become addicted to this newfound pleasure.

"I-its.. cumming!" (Name) let out a loud slutty moan as he came between them, cum staining both their chests but Pantalone kept going, chasing his own orgasm as (name) felt himself go crazy, overstimulated and body hot as the man pounded relentlessly, hands gripping his hips and no doubt leaving bruises.

"Mine..mine" he mumbled as he reached orgasm, poor (name) cumming again and passing out, completely fucked out.

"All mine..." Pantalone mumbled as he pulled out, watching cum leak from his pretty ass "and you're never leaving..."

#male reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #pantalone x male reader #pantalone x reader #pantalone smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader

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linos-luna · 9 months

Text

Drunk Night❣️

Felix x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Dub Con ??, groping, drunk Felix, mommy kink, kissing, slapping

———————————————————————

Felix stumbled into the bedroom, his eyes landing on your sleeping form.

He had been out with some friends and got drunk; you had been waiting for him but ended up falling asleep.

He was drunk. Maybe not blackout drunk, but drunk enough to stumble around and definitely cloud some judgements.

He walked up to you, looking over your beautiful body. You had some pajama shorts and an oversized shirt. The shirt was lightly raised up your stomach.

Felix gently grabbed your shirt and raised it over your breasts, revealing that you weren’t even wearing a bra. God that was hot.

“You don’t mind, right mommy? I’m gonna touch you…” Felix asked, pausing as if waiting for you to respond.

“I’m gonna touch mommy.” He giggled and practically sat on you to have perfect access to your now bare breasts.

Felix leaned in to kiss your lips then went to your breasts, groping them with leaving small kisses.

“So pretty… so pretty… I want it…” he whispered as he kissed and sucked at your soft skin, hoping to leave some marks.

Somehow you hadn’t woke up. You groaned a bit and moved a little but that was it.

Your boyfriend continued by leaving sloppy, desperate, kisses. He was drooling as he nipped at your nipples. He held your by the hips while lightly grinding into you. His cock was painfully hard.

You finally woke when he bit particularly hard at your left nipple.

“Ow!” You yelled, suddenly waiting up and covering yourself.

“Felix!” You were shocked to see Felix sitting there on you. He looked dazed with drool going down his chin. “What the fuck?!”

“I’m just touching you, mommy.” He said while trying to go back to kissing your breast. You pulled him by the hair and he looked at you with a pout.

“Mommy—!”

You slapped him. His shock allowed you to fully sit up. First of all, what was he planning on doing to you?? Also, when did he start calling you mommy?? That’s new.

“W-why did you hurt me…?” He said with tears in his eyes.

“Felix—”

“I’m sorry mommy!” He cried while holding his cheek. “I didn’t mean it…”

Now you felt bad. You didn’t have to slap him like that. You’ve never even done that before. But he scared you! Waking up to someone’s face in your breasts was freaky.

“Felix…” you sighed while touching his cheek, realizing how hard the slap was. “I’m sorry baby… I didn’t—… oh that looks like it hurts…”

He nodded and tried getting off of you, only to fall off the bed. That when you realized just how drunk he was. You felt awful now.

“Mommy hit me!” He cried while laying on the floor.

You got up and kneeled to help him up. “I’m sorry, baby, but you can’t just be touching me like that without permission!”

“I’m sorry…” he said while wiping his tears. “I’m sorry mommy…”

“Okay… please, let’s go to bed okay?” You said while helping him up.

Felix was dizzy and disoriented. He was just doing what you said now.

You had him lay down and put a bag next to him just in case he’d throw up.

“Don’t move from that spot.” You sighed while going to get some water. You wondered what you’d tell him in the morning. Would he even remember??

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grandprixwinnerlandonorris · 6 months

Text

Lines | George Russell⁶³

Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader

Summary: it's morning after the victory celebration and George and you need to talk about what happened the previous night, except it doesn't really go as planned

Warnings: angst

A/N: 👉👈👀 Now I wish I had that other one shot ready considering George ended up on the podium, but balance baby. The melody of the song might not fit, but the lyrics are 🤌 Also I made a whole damn playlist for this little story

Previous part

The morning after excessive drinking was never a good one. The sun shining through the unclosed curtains only made the head pounding worse, causing you to let out an agonized groan. Your throat and mouth felt parched like walking through a desert and your body seemed to be weighed down, refusing to move when you tried turning over.

You extended one arm and blindly felt around the cold, empty side of the bed that obviously someone had been in last night. You were only barely aware of the night before. You knew you went out to celebrate George's win and had an amazing time, but you were vaguely able to recollect any of it.

There were only flashes of him holding you as you moved on the dance floor and drinks coming and going - the reason why you were in such pain right now. The way you celebrated, someone would think it was you who won. And in all those in-between moments, you couldn't remember meeting anyone and certainly had no memory of bringing them home, but you knew someone should be beside you. And surely George wouldn't just let you-

George.

Your eyes flew open.

Oh, no.

You glanced to the left side of your bed, trying to convince yourself that it was just a drunken dream and you slept alone in your bed, but the sheets were crumpled exactly as they should have been if someone had occupied the space. Only faintly, bits and pieces of what happened after were coming back to you now - the feel of George's lips and of his fingertips dancing on your skin.

You propped yourself up on an elbow, blinking away dizziness as you sat up. You held onto the edge of the bed until the room stopped spinning and you found your balance again. Moreover, feeling exposed underneath the sheets was only a confirmation of what you dreaded most.

The only thing that you could take solace in at the moment was that you didn't have to face George and the aftermath of your own doings. Oh, how could you have been so rash? You were the one to initiate everything with your friend, despite begging him not to let anything come between your friendship. All night, you kept making advances towards him and it was due to your constant prodding, teasing and cajoling that George eventually kissed you and ended up in your bed.

You heard an uninvited voice in your head. There were no consequences last night, only two friends who had spent the most perfect evening together doing the things they loved and being with the one person they trusted the most.

But the night hadn't ended there. And it had involved an awful lot of alcohol.

Oh, god, you couldn't even remember everything that happened.

And that was the thing that scared you even more.

Then George's deep voice echoed in your head. You could remember every word he said last night, and you could still feel his arms wrapped around you. He'd loved the feel of you. He'd loved watching you. He'd loved how hard you came on his fingers. He'd been so proud of you.

No, no, no, no, no, no. This is ridiculous. This shouldn't have happened. You ran a hand through your thick, tangled hair when a loud noise coming from outside of your bedroom snapped you out of your thoughts.

You jumped out of the bed, grabbing the first bit of clothing you could find and hastily throwing it on. The sunshine hit you hard from your floor-to-ceiling living room windows, your eyes squinting as you tried to adjust to the brightness. And there he was, moving effortlessly through your kitchen, just in his gray sweatpants and barefoot.

You could observe the definition of his back muscles, how relaxed and tranquil he was. The red marks that ran across his body were only a further confirmation it was true what had happened the previous night. When he spun around to face you, his lips curled into a smile as his eyes scanned you from head to toe.

"Good morning,"

"I thought you left," you blurted out before you could stop yourself, leaning against the doorframe.

His face dropped and he put down the thing he was holding on the counter. For the first time ever it was hard for him to read your face. "The way you said it sounds like you wish I did."

"No, I just..." you tried to find words to explain, but nothing was coming. "That's not it at all."

"I'm making breakfast," he grinned once more, showing off the pan.

"Mhm," you murmured, trying to give him a hint of a smile, but it fell flat.

He didn't seem to notice though as he was busy stirring something in the pan. "I like your outfit by the way," he said casually without even glancing at you.

It was only then that you looked at yourself. You were wearing his shirt from last night. Your hand moved to take it off, but you remembered there was nothing underneath, so instead you pulled the fabric closer to your skin.

"I'll give it back," you muttered, trying to keep your eyes away from him as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I didn't say it because I wanted you to give it back. You know I let you wear my clothes," you knew he was trying to make things less awkward, but it only made it more difficult for you. This was not supposed to happen between the two of you. You were just friends, best friends, and now there was this added layer of complication that you couldn't ignore.

"That was before… That was different."

"How is that different?" he turned around, facing you fully.

"It just is!" you snapped.

George raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Whoa, okay. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," you muttered, looking away from him.

"I'm sorry you had to wake up alone, I wanted to-"

"That's not the problem," you shook your head.

"Then what is?" he finally turned the stove off, looking at you.

"What are you making?" you forced a smile and walked up to him, the subject changed once again.

You were a ticking time bomb waiting to explode and he knew that. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, that you didn't regret what happened last night. He knew you better than anyone else and he could see the guilt eating away at you. He had to do something to make you feel better, to make things right. Still, he let you have your way, glancing at you sideways. "Well, it's an omelette with all kinds of vegetables. Even the mushrooms you hate."

"And the tomatoes, right?"

"And the tomatoes." he smiled, nodding.

"Smells amazing," you returned the smile.

"I'm glad you think so. Are you hungry?"

"I'm sick, honestly." you grimaced.

"Here, drink this, it should help you with your hangover until I wrap this up." he said, indicating the pan.

"Is this one of your trainer's smoothie recipes?" you asked, eyeing the glass filled with green liquid suspiciously.

He laughed, then nodded. "Guilty. But it does the job, trust me. I already had one."

You took a small sip, noting the disgusting taste.

"Bleh," you tried to shove it in your mouth as fast as possible and moved the glass away from your lips. You shivered, shuddering at the aftertaste.

"I told you." George laughed, taking it from you. "It's not that bad."

"I hate you." you muttered.

He sighed, somehow not doubting your words, presenting you a plate with the omelette and the cooked vegetables on it. He then poured out a glass of water for you. "Eat up, you'll feel better."

You shot a glare at him, but grabbed your fork and started eating anyway. He stepped away for a brief moment to search for and put on a shirt. And that irked you even more. How could he be so calm, so collected, so... normal after what happened between the two of you last night? You couldn't even look at him without feeling a sense of shame washing over you.

The more you stayed quiet, the more apprehensive you were about what had happened the night before. You didn't know the consequences that may arise from your actions and it could have caused irreparable damage, even though nothing seemed to be amiss. The stress was steadily building inside of you as you desperately tried to keep yourself from starting an argument, but eventually you couldn't contain it any longer.

The guilt that had been weighing down on your heart since you woke up was only getting heavier. How could he act like nothing was out of the ordinary? Like nothing had happened between you two? How could he not bring it up?

"I can't do this." and there it was.

"Do what?" he said with a frown.

God, this was not a conversation you wanted to have first thing in the morning.

"Pretend." you crossed your arms. "Acting like what happened last night didn't happen."

George's face fell, but he didn't look away from you. "I'm not pretending, y/n." he took a deep breath, his eyes locked onto yours. “I just thought that maybe we could talk about it later."

"Later? George, this is important. We can't just pretend like it didn't happen.”

"I know it is," he was still frowning.

"Last night, I- I don't know what came over me. I mean, I got drunk, you know that I wouldn't do something like that otherwise."

“I know,” he repeated.

"Well, I think I wouldn't, anyway," you tried to laugh, but it only came out as a nervous cough. "Because right now I can't remember a single thing that happened after the club."

"I brought you home." George replied, avoiding eye contact.

"Can you stop doing that?" you were getting annoyed after each second that passed.

"What?" he responded, still not meeting your gaze.

"Avoiding addressing the problem. Like nothing changed between us!"

"I'm not." he gritted.

"Oh, please!" you rolled your eyes, "Can we not do this right now?"

"Do what?!"

"This! Act like nothing happened between us and nothing changed. We can't just sweep it under the rug. We are both adults, you can act like one."

“Nothing has changed.” George finally looked up at you, his eyes penetrating yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "What do you want me to say, y/n? That I regret last night? That I wish it never happened?" he shook his head. "I can't say that because it wouldn't be true."

"We crossed the line!" you shouted.

"What line?! The line was already blurred after the thing that happened in my driver's room. Last night it was barely existent!"

You flinched at his words, the reminder of your previous encounters with George sending shivers down your spine. "I shouldn't have ever let you touch me." you whispered.

"God, if I knew it would be like this I never would have offered."

"So why did you?" you snapped.

"Because I wanted to." he clapped back.

The tension between you both was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel like your friendship was hurtling towards its breaking point. You couldn't understand why he was so calm about everything, why he wasn't feeling the same way as you. It was almost as if he didn't care about the fact that you had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.

"You wanted to?" you repeated, feeling the anger inside you bubbling up. "Is that all it takes for you to just throw away our friendship like it's nothing?"

"It's not like that," he said, his voice calm despite the way you were shouting at him. "I care about you, y/n. You know that."

"We shouldn’t have let things go this far…" you whispered.

"Well, yeah, it's all should've, would've, could've now, isn't it?" George's voice was hard and bitter. He pushed himself away from the counter, balling his fists at his sides.

"How can you be so calm about it? Does it not mean anything to you? Do you even care?!"

George ran his hands through his hair, frustration etched onto his face. "No, I'm just trying to understand why you're so upset about it."

"Why am I so upset?! We had sex, for god's sake, George!"

George stood up from his seat and walked towards you, his face just inches away from yours, his breath hot on your skin. "And it was amazing," he said. "Don't pretend like you didn't enjoy it just as much as I did. Do you remember what you were saying to me last night? Huh? Do you?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to push down the memory of your slurred words. "That doesn't matter," you said, trying to push away from him. "That's not even the point! We can't just pretend like it never happened and go back to being friends like nothing changed."

"What, you don't want to admit that you wanted me just as much as I wanted you?" he chuckled, his eyes never leaving your face. "And I asked you, time and time again, are you sure, do you want this," he raised his voice, "and you said yes every time. Don't backtrack now just because it's convenient for you. Don't even try to deny it."

"I was drunk!" you yelled back, your heart pounding in your chest. "What did I know? You should've known better than to..." you trailed off, not really wanting to believe it.

"Than to what?" George interrupted, his eyes blazing with anger. "To trust you? To believe that you knew what you were doing?"

"You knew I was vulnerable!" you shot back, tears streaming down your face.

"Vulnerable of what?!" he bellowed, his fists clenched at his sides. "You were the one who came on to me, who kissed me, who begged me to take you."

"You could have said no!" you cried, feeling the weight of the accusation heavy on your shoulders. "You should've said no..."

"Why should I have said no?" he shouted. "I wanted you! I still want you! God, I wanted you for years. I'd be willing to risk anything just to show how much I cared, but because the friendship meant so much to us both, I was afraid that if I confessed my feelings, I would end up losing you completely. And being your friend was infinitely better than not having you at all."

His words hit you like a splash of cold water, dousing you from head to toe. His face was twisted from anger and hurt, but there was no denying the truth in his words. And you were afraid of losing him too, otherwise you wouldn't even be acting this way. He was your best friend, or at least you thought he was. You had been friends for so long, you couldn't even remember when you two became friends. You were so close, so comfortable with each other, so much so that it became a part of your identity. That was why the transition from two to one had been so abrupt.

"I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.”

“You… What?” your voice was barely above a whisper as you stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. You had never expected him to say something like that, not in a million years. It was as if a dam had burst inside of you, all the emotions you had been holding back crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You stepped back, trying to make sense of what he just said. "You love me?" you repeated, feeling your heart skip a beat.

George nodded, his eyes searching yours. "I'm sorry, this isn't how I planned to tell you. I don't know if I ever did. And maybe you’re right, maybe I should have taken better care of you last night and waited until we were both sober do to something, but I couldn't hold myself back any longer, I've been in love with you for so long-"

"No. Don't. Shut up." you raised a finger to stop him from talking further. "You can't say things like that."

"Why not?" he stepped closer to you, his hands reaching for yours, but you stumbled away from him, towards the window.

"Shut up, George. Just- shut up." you placed your hands on your temples hoping to block everything out.

The room spun and you felt like you were going to throw up. You couldn't believe what was happening. You had never thought of him in that way, not once. He was your best friend, your confidant, your everything, but not your lover. How could he be?

You turned away from him, your back pressed against the cold window. You felt trapped, cornered, and scared. You didn't know how to feel, what to do, or what to say. You were lost in a sea of conflicting emotions, and you didn't know how to swim.

"Don't you love me?" he asked, his voice still soft, his eyes clouded with worry.

"No." as soon as the words flew out of your mouth you wanted to retract them. "Yes. No, not like that." you couldn't handle it anymore. You were breaking apart inside and you were afraid that if you stayed here that you would shatter completely. "You can't be in love with me."

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?” George's voice was laced with pain and frustration.

"You have to stop."

"Stop what? Loving you? You think I can just turn my feelings off like a switch? But if you're so wise tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me." the emotion in his voice was like a thunderbolt.

And then you saw them, the tears in his eyes begging for you to stop pushing him away. And you saw the pain, the pleading hurt in his eyes. And you felt your heart breaking.

Oh, god. You were hurting him.

You hesitated, but your feet started moving before your mind had a chance to catch up with your body. Before you realized it, you were standing in front of him, your hand reaching up to touch his cheek. His hand instantly grabbed yours.

"I tried, you know? It's not that easy." he sobbed. "It’s not that easy to just let go of someone you’ve held onto for so fucking long. I wish I wasn’t in love with you, now that I see what it's doing to you. To us."

"I think we need to spend some time apart." you said.

George's grip on your hand tightened, and he looked at you with a mixture of fear and desperation. "How can you be like this?"

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to say. "I just need some space, George. This is all too overwhelming for me right now. I need to figure things out for myself."

George's eyes widened in shock. "You can't walk away from me like this. We can do it together, we can-"

"No, I'm not walking away from you," you said softly, trying to keep your voice calm. "I just need some time to think. We both do. On our own."

"Time apart won't solve a thing." he said, his voice pleading.

"There's nothing left to say." you sighed.

He almost laughed. "I just confessed my love to you and it's all too much? You have nothing left to say? Huh?"

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing. How could you explain to him that your heart was so full of conflicting emotions that you couldn't even speak? You loved him, there was no denying that. But you were scared, scared of losing him as a friend, scared of losing yourself in him. You needed some time to figure out what you wanted, what you needed, and for the first time, you couldn't do that with him around. Not right now.

"I need to do what's best for me right now. I hope you can understand that." you took a step back, your hand slipping from his.

George's eyes followed your hand as it slipped away from his. His heart ached at the thought of losing you, and for a moment, he considered grabbing your hand and pulling you back into his arms. But he knew he couldn't do that. He had to respect your wishes, even if it hurt like hell.

"What's best for you, huh? I guess I don't have a choice then, do I?" he said, walking backwards away from you.

"George-" you started, but he already disappeared in your bedroom.

When he emerged back, he was wearing one of his sweaters that you borrowed a long time ago and never returned. He put on his jacket and shoes without even looking at you. You knew he was hurt, but you also knew that you couldn't just give in to him. You needed to take care of yourself first. As he walked towards the door in silence, you knew that he was leaving, maybe for good. You wanted to run after him, to tell him that you loved him too, but you stayed rooted to the spot, knowing that it was the right thing to do.

The second he left, you fell into the cushions of the couch, your hands clutching your face. You had crushed his heart and yours in the same instant. You needed space to collect your thoughts and decide what the future held for George and yourself - if a future existed at all between you two.

Next part

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yourdoorisunlocked · 23 days

Text

I'll Never Meet Another You - Part 3

📺 【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 】📺

𝐀/𝐍: *coryxkenshin ass entrance* Hey! W-Wassup? *sweats uncomfortably* It's been a while...

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: Obsession, stalking, Boss/Favored Employee, manipulation, Vox having no sense of boundaries, but you don't notice because you're too busy fangirling lmao ➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏,𝟖𝟔𝟖

. . .

The commotion of rushing employees, frantic in their pace to their respective workplaces and office buildings nearly dizzied you on your way to the tallest building in the Entertainment District. Neon luxury bathed every street of the promiscuous sector, composed of streets filled with depraved Sinners, and had your wandering eyes widened with awed stars.

You had attempted to put more confidence into your steps as you walked around the district, trusting your phone to lead you to the Vee’s main headquarters, despite being slightly shaken by your surroundings.

But you were determined to keep up the facade of not being too shifty, shy, or ready to bolt. It wasn’t like you even could bolt, anyway. You’d missed your morning shift, and God only knows what would happen to you if you returned to that diner...

The soft whirring of an overheated camera barely caught your attention, as you were so wrapped in your own little world to notice how the lens adjusted to look directly at you, glaring down at you as you walked.

The cameras set above the entire city, unbeknownst to cute, quaint little you, had zeroed in on your form since your arrival, wearing a large overcoat – slightly worn, but suitable – over the delicious little outfit that had one demon in particular frothing at the mouth.

He couldn’t wait to pick out his own little outfits for you to wear, all tailored to match him and his tastes. Just imagining his cute, future wife clad in the dresses that housewives would wear in his time was enough to send the demon into complete overdrive.

Vox was already walking around the halls in a calm frenzy as soon as you slammed the door to your apartment, with your filled-out application in hand. His nerves wouldn't allow him to sit still, not for a moment, not while his dearest was out there, on the streets for any to grab!

He had even watched with growing tension as you debated over whether you should go to the interview, to which he nearly activated his hypnotism to just push you out the door and into his arms already-!

Vox cleared his throat. No need to lose his patience, now. You were here, in his domain. No other unworthy scum of a Sinner could snatch you up, now.

Besides, you put in so much effort to impress your future husband boss, shouldn’t he do the same for you?

. . .

“Are you deaf, or just that fucking ᵾꞩēłēꞩꞩ?” Vox barked to the nearest intern, watching them with pure contempt as they shuddered under his icy glare.

“I-I’m sorry, Sir! I’ll put in an a-appointment with her right away!”

“Good. Clear my schedule of other meetings for now, and have my office prepared for my appointment.”

Shock dawned on the intern’s face, but before another moment passed, he stuttered pitifully, “Uhm, could I get her name, S-Sir?”

Antenna sparking impatiently, Vox allowed your name tumble softly from his lips. No trace of malice from his exhausted frustration poisoning his words.

The tension in his padded shoulders loosened just ever so slightly, before he snapped again at the young trainee, who was blinking dumbly up at him with his mouth agape.

He’d never seen his boss so calm... It set the hairs on his neck to stand on-end.

“You got that?”

The intern jumped, glasses nearly falling off his nose as he frantically jotted down your name. “Got i-it!”

With that, he quickly scampered away to let his other staff members aware of the boss’s new assistant, a shiny toy that innocently wandered the streets of Hell without a care in the world. He prayed for whatever poor soul managed to catch his employer's ever-watching eyes.

Vox rolled his eyes with a disgusted groan before starting again down the hallway. Fluorescent lights bloomed ahead of him, setting a pale, neon path of electric teal and offices stretching literal miles until the nearest elevator.

He probably shouldn’t have left such an important task to some incompetent underling, but there was too much on his plate to deal with it, for now. He had a date meeting with a lovely little doll to prepare for.

For every section of the Vee’s tower, there was a flair completely unique to each member, whether that be Velvet’s more glamourous, chic wardrobe of bone-thin, overworked models, Valentino’s debauched studio simmering with lust around every corner, or the advanced, technologically-inclined office floors where Vox normally dwelled.

Floors that you would rule over, seated comfortably next to him.

Pointed dress shoes, tipped with cyan flared blue sparks against the polished marble floors like the very electricity the Overlord emitted. Had anyone walked past Vox in that moment, the hairs on the back of their necks and arms would have risen in tandem with the crackling energy that tainted the frigid air.

There was very little in Vox’s afterlife that brought him comfort, but he couldn’t help but find solace in the thought of you rushing down the streets of the Entertainment District, simply to make it on time to your appointment with him.

Honestly, it was only a matter of time before he had you in his clutches. Like a naive little lamb to the slaughter, you trusted him with your very soul.

And, no doubt, that would very soon belong to him, too.

Vox nearly blue-screened at the thought of a chain around your neck, emblazoned with his name, electric-blue and sparking against your tender skin. He could feel the light buzzing around his cheeks that flared up in a soft lavender-pink against his interface.

Just then, the equivalent of hairs rising on the back of Vox's neck came in a series of light sparks tickling the outlets on the back of his head.

“Voxxy~!”

Ӻᵾȼҟīꞥꞡ-

Immediately fixing his grimace, Vox swerved around on his heel with the most tooth-grinding smile he could muster, though a twitch of his left eye was a dead giveaway.

Valentino didn't so much as blink at the Overlord's obvious irritation, not at all taking the hint that maybe this wasn't the best time to pester him with whatever the fuck Val was failing to manage now-

"I've been looking for you everywhere, cariño!" The oversized insect said with too wide a smile, too forced a laugh, and Vox knew he was in for an interrogation - either that, or Val was, once again, trying to rope him into bed.

"You've been locked up in that apartment of yours for so long, amour, why don't we relax for a bit~?"

Vox didn't allow Valentino to usher him a single step away from the large window he'd been overlooking the district, wondering which shadow that scurried the streets belonged to you.

And what a sudden appearance, too. If his mind weren't swarming with thoughts of where you could be at the moment, Vox would've been questioning the sudden - and painfully obvious - distraction Valentino was trying to pose.

"I don't have time for that, right now," Vox brushed off his touch with a disgusted glower. "I have a meeting in ten, so it's going to have to wait, Val." He turned to walk away, albeit with his feathers slightly ruffled, but it was nothing that a couple moments spent with you couldn't-

"A meeting?" The moth demon blinked, his eyes adjusting to the blaring lights ahead. Vox was surprised that Valentino had even made an effort to visit him on his floor, since the Overlord was clearly blind out of his wits.

"Hm... Could this have something to do with whatever's been distracting you from your job, recently? Or..." Valentino scowled down at Vox with a narrowed, scrutinizing gaze taking in the sudden tensity in his padded shoulders.

His face curled into a triumphant sneer when Vox stopped dead in his tracks. If there was anything Valentino hated, it was being ignored.

"Or whoever?" Crimson tendrils of smoke blew from the moth's mouth, tainted by his ire. "They're probably a good fuck, if they managed to match up to your standards," with another smokey drag, Val rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "Since you won't take any of my whores."

"Ɇӿȼᵾꞩē ᵯē?"

White-hot electrical currents climbed up Vox's throat, spreading through his fingertips and zapping at the antenna of his hat. He glared up at Valentino through glitching red eye sockets, daring him to overstep further.

The moth hid a heated shiver underneath Vox's murderous gaze, his glitching eyes sharpened, poisonous blades slitting into his skin at the mention of you.

Oh, you... You were different, weren't you? Not just some cumdump for Vox to use and abuse all in one night, nothing like his dolls that would return to him, bruised and in hysterics because of what Vox did to them.

No. You were special to him. The very thought made Valentino's blood seethe.

"You are certainly one to talk about being distracted."

The porn director took no offense to Vox's insinuation, already as comfortable as he could be with the knowledge that it was the television demon who took reign of the strings.

With overflowing confidence, He simply crossed his arms with a venomous smirk, jutting his hip out beneath one of his lower arms.

Val's way of blowing off steam would one day surely get him brutally murdered. By his own fellow Overlord, no less.

"Aw, did I touch a nerve there, Voxxy~?"

And Vox was two seconds away from ripping the insect apart.

"Don't ӻᵾȼҟīꞥꞡ test me right now-"

"Sir?"

A small, agitating buzz coming from the installed intercom on Vox's face further tipped the overflowing bucket of his impatience. Yet another idiotic distraction from you, another obstruction from his darling's side.

With a final, stinging glower shot towards Valentino, and a non-committal grunt, his claw gave a single tap to the now prominent phone icon on the side of his face.

"Go manage one of your sluts, Val. Maybe actually do your fucking job, for a change."

Vox spared no glance to the moth, but a spiteful scoff and the clicking of back-breaking heels stomping away from him gave enough closure.

"Ӻᵾȼҟīꞥꞡ ⱳħⱥⱦ?" The noxious growl of Vox practically grinding his teeth into the intercom sent jolts of spiking electricity down the employee's spine.

Fuck, this must've really not been a good time to bother him.

The employee huffed as sweat formed at his brow. He mustered up the courage to speak again after feeling as if his tongue would be cut out, should he utter a syllable.

Maybe give Vox the coffee with the sweeter creamer, next time.

"Well, uhm... The lady you wanted me to set up an appointment for... S-She's already here, sir."

Every ounce of bottled-up fury dissipated. Like a sudden, Godsent sunlight bursting through thunderous clouds, the storm in Vox's mind suddenly evaporated into thin air.

Vox tried to grasp his once boiling-hot, downright murderous fury, but the mention of you had stolen every bit of attention he had to spare. Only one emotion - or a muddle of them, really - managed to seep through his voice, into a single syllable.

Shock, surprise, disbelief, jittering excitement, and then...

"What?"

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: So, I know its been *checks calendar* (fucking hell- TWO MONTHS??) a while since I've updated this fic, but I swear there is a perfectly reasonable, understandable explanation.

The Vox brainrot has failed me, and I've been indoctrinated into the Welcome Home fandom (do expect some fics about WH btw) ANYWAYS! enough rambling, thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you next time :)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid.

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @crazii-saber-wolf, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp.

@maggotzdilemma, @cassidywinters, @justgiulia, @lucifers-silhouette, @going2hell4hazbin, @martinys-world

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #yourdoorisunlocked #yandere vox x reader #hazbin vox #GUYS IK IT'S BEEN A WHILE

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aajjks · 2 years

Text

Crush (JJK)

synopsis. He hated you, crushingly.

pairing: secret soft yandere simp!jungkook x barista!reader. ft. jaehyun loml

warnings: degrading words, softer yandere, simp behaviour 101, yandere, obsessive thoughts, HES such a diva imo, content warning yandere.

note. idk what the fuck I just wrote 😭 he’s such a simp I just nshshshhsbsb. I’m in love with jungkook it’s pathetic. thanks for reading! :dd ps my bday is in two days wohooo

Jungkook despised your guts.

You made his skin crawl, his blood pressure rise as soon as he sees your figure walking in the campus, he hates how his heart is racing like some teenager idiot.

He can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from you.

You are so infuriating every single time he sees you, it makes his brain shut down, his heartbeat becomes abnormally fast and his body itches with longing.

Fucking bitch, he chews on his lower lip, barely paying attention to whatever Jaehyun is talking about, rocking his feet back n forth to calm himself.

He wants you so bad. Jungkook realised that a long time ago, he wants you.

He doesn’t want to, he hates you.

But, “bro, stop gawking at her.” He blinks twice at Jaehyun’s tone, finally looking away from your figure.

Jungkook turns his body to the side, now looking at his best friend who gives him a look of disappointment.

“Do you see her laughing with that dumb blonde bitch? What’s so damn funny!” Jungkook gritted his teeth, “what a whore.” He inhaled a breath.

God, he was desperate.

Jaehyun cocked a brow at Jungkook’s cruel remarks about you, “aw look at you and your words… the look in your eyes doesn’t really suit your words”

Jungkook knows.

Jaehyun sighs, “Jungkook, you are in love with Y/N.”

The tattooed man gasped. “What the fuck, hell no!”

Jungkook was not in love with you, he just obsessively hated you, “she’s a loser, fuckin loser.” He hissed, in his defence while his friend only clicked his tongue.

“I HATE HER.”

“Sure.”

Jungkook was not a stalker.

He was just…. Making sure of a few things,

He fixed his cap and tilted his body so you couldn’t see him, but he could see you,

All clearly.

“Umm Jungkook? Is that you?”

Fuck.

He quickly averted his gaze down to the floor, your footsteps approaching him, Jungkook wanted to run.

“Oh my gosh! Hi!” Your voice filled his ears, his body wasn’t reacting, how could be so dumb. “H-Hi loser.”

He gulped and finally made eye contact with you.

oh, you and your stupid pretty face.

Those eyes of yours annoyed him the most, so damn attractive it made his mind dizzy. “I didn’t know you liked the coffee here?” You laughed at his nickname for you.

He felt his cheeks get hot.

“So? What can I get you?” You looked at him with your eyes, he was getting nervous.

Damn your eyes.

“Ummm…. Whatever you like.”

Before Jungkook could stop his mouth, the words already came out.

“You mean, from my preferences?”

“S-Sure!”

He watched as you nodded with a cute expression on your face. He could feel his heart melt into a poodle.

ew.

“And…. WAIT Y/N…” he stood up before you could leave.

“Yeah?”

“Bring two. And have it with me. Keep me company…. Y-Your shift is almost over, isn’t it?”

“I-I need to tell you something…” he continued, wanting to look at you longer, his heartbeat rising.

I love you.

“Okay, give me a few minutes then.”

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stellar-constellations · 3 months

Text

Star Patient: Chapter 3 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 8,650 words (a big chapter since the next chapter will take some time to complete).

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, current chapter, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (in the works)

Andrew’s brain surgery to drain the excessive blood was a success! Andrew felt loopy from all the twilight anesthesia they injected into him so he was asleep during the surgery, but he’s no longer suffering from double-vision, maybe soon he can start remembering things again.

Andrew locked his wheelchair in place and refused to move from the hallway. He was dead set on waiting for (Y/N). Any nurse or doctor that tried to come near him to bring him back to his room (or get him out of the way) would be slapped away and assaulted with the most vile curse words that would make a nun have a heart attack. Whenever Andrew heard footsteps coming, he’d look over, eyes sparkling in excitement, before dropping once noticing it wasn’t in fact (Y/N).

Another set of footsteps could be heard walking down the hallway. Andrew looked over and resisted the urge to smile or seem excited that she came.

“Hi, Andrew! Sorry I’m late. I was watching the infants until the NNP came back.” (Y/N) explained.

God, he loved how she said his name. Did it have to do with how damn cute she was, or was her voice really just that enchanting?

“How do you feel? Tired? Dizzy? Loopy? Hungry? Thirsty?” she questioned, bombarding him with questions.

“Mm.” Andrew shrugged his shoulders, resisting the urge to wince, but failing.

“Oh, does your head hurt?" (Y/N) questioned. "Oh, well obviously it must! You had surgery!” she commented, realizing how stupid her question was.

“It just hurts a bit…” Andrew muttered.

“Let’s get you back to your room, then I’ll give you some painkillers.” She spoke.

Andrew unlocked his wheelchair and started rolling away without (Y/N)’s help, stopping in front of her with a pointed stare glare as if to say “are we leaving yet?”

“Oh! You got the hang of it. Good job, Andrew!” (Y/N) praised, causing him to advert his eyes and huff.

“It’s not a big deal… It's a pretty easy thing to learn.” Andrew explained, ignoring how his heartbeat increased.

“Aw, don’t be like that. You did it all on your own in only a few minutes, and you learned how to turn the wheel! That’s impressive!” (Y/N) smiled, only causing Andrew’s face to get more red.

“Are you done?” Andrew huffed.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get going.” She chuckled. “Follow me.”

Andrew didn’t exactly trust her sense of direction, especially considering earlier’s wild goose chase, but Andrew didn’t mind getting lost with her—it meant he got to spend a little extra time with her.

“Before we go to your room, do you mind if I make a quick stop to a friend?” she questioned as they entered the elevator together.

A friend? Andrew thought, a sore and red hot bubble starting to simmer in his chest. Who the hell is it?

“Her name is Hailey. She has cancer so please be nice to her. She doesn’t have many visitors anymore so maybe you two could be friends!” (Y/N) cheered, excited at the possibility of the two of them getting along as she pressed the second floor button.

At least it’s a girl. Andrew thought, the bubble of jealousy losing its fire-like temperature, but still having a bit of flame to it.

They exited the elevator when the doors opened and strolled down the hallway, (Y/N) stopping at a door and knocking on it.

“Come in.” A girl, Hailey, spoke.

She opened the door, keeping it open for Andrew to wheel his way in before she shut the door behind them.

“Hey, Hails. I have a friend of mine I’d like you to meet. He might have a grumpy face, but he’s nice when you get to know him.” (Y/N) teased.

Andrew shot her an unimpressed glare as he looked at her, before redirecting his attention to Hailey.

“Hi…” he muttered, not quite interested in the conversation.

“Hello…” she whispered shyly.

With how long it’s been since she’s socialized with anyone except the nurses, she’s most likely insecure of her appearance. This is a good opportunity for her to re-learn how to make friends and have confidence, and now Andrew has someone he can visit and talk to when I’m off of work. She thought to herself.

“Andrew, this is Hailey. Hailey, this is Andrew. I hope you both can be good friends.” (Y/N) introduced, a smile on her face.

Fat chance. Andrew thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

They both stared at each other awkwardly before (Y/N) spoke up.

“So, Hailey. How is the book so far?” she questioned.

“I’m interested in it. I don’t understand why Nora wants to die though.” Hailey spoke.

“Oh, I see.” She nodded. “This is one of my favorite books to recommend. After reading it, it really makes you look at life in a different perspective. Nora wants to die because she lacks happiness, or fulfillment, in her life. She hasn’t found a motive in her life to carry on because she’s so caught up in her own burdens and feelings.”

“But why is she sad? She gets to go outside and live.” Hailey questioned, genuinely confused.

Nora has what Hailey doesn’t, and Nora’s taking it for granted. (Y/N) thought to herself, understanding what Hailey means.

“Do you want a simple definition or the long one? Like, science or no science.” (Y/N) questioned, taking a seat on Hailey's bedside Andrew silently huffing and glaring as she did so.

“No science.” Hailey smiled.

Hailey prefers subjects that are sugarcoated, they’re much easier to understand. She is ten, so (Y/N) supposes that's understandable.

“Well, Nora is missing something in her life, but she doesn’t know what it is yet. Everyone is made differently. She is sad because she doesn't have anymore passions in her life because she never stuck to pursuing them, and she felt like she couldn’t confide in anyone.” (Y/N) explained. "Humans are social creatures, we need communication and care from others in order to functional normally. Nora doesn't have that, or at least, she has very little of it."

“So Nora wants to die because she doesn’t know what she’s missing and she's alone?” Hailey questioned.

“In a way, yeah.” (Y/N) nodded. “Because she’s so sad, she’s not even trying to live the life she was given. When people are as sad as Nora, they don’t eat or shower or take care of themselves because it all feels meaningless.”

Why does that sound familiar? Andrew thought to himself.

“I understand now.” Hailey nodded.

“Andrew, do you like books?” (Y/N)questioned, the two girls directing their attention towards him.

“I’m not too sure. I don’t read much.” Andrew answered.

“Maybe you just haven't found a good book yet. What genre movies do you like?" (Y/N0 questioned.

Movies? He just watched whatever was on the TV when he was locked in that apartment, but he was so hungry that he didn't have the willpower to actually focus on what was on the screen half the time.

"I don't know... anything really..." Andrew mumbled.

"Let's find a book genre you like! We'll start with Hailey." (Y/N) smiled. "Hailey, do you have any suggestions for him to read?"

"Maybe... The Outsiders?" Hailey suggested at a moment of thought, a bit hesitant but starting to warm up just slightly with the new presence in the room.

But what about your special pick for me you said you'd give? Andrew complained inside his head.

"The S.E. Hinton one?" (Y/N) questioned.

"Yes." Hailey smiled.

"Oh, that's a good one. My favorite character was Sodapop." (Y/N) commented.

"I liked Darry. He was smart and cool." Hailey chimed in.

"What about the book you wanted to show me earlier? The one specifically picked out for me for when I get out of surgery?" Andrew questioned, not exactly caring if it sounded rude to reject Hailey's suggestion.

"Oh! Yeah. The book is called Eye of the Minds by James Dasher. He made the Maze Runner series if you had seen the movies." (Y/N) explained. "It's a sci-fi. I figured we could give that a try and see if you enjoyed it."

"I remembered when you showed me that book! The main protagonist was funny." Hailey commented.

Andrew briefly wondered how long these two spent together everyday. The more he thought about it, the more he started to get jealous again. By now his headache was subsiding while his anger just grew.

I never thought I'd be jealous at a little kid... he thought to himself. ...Why even am I jealous?

"(Y/N)..." Andrew sighed, succeeding in gaining the nurse's attention. "My head still hurts and I'm tired." He spoke.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Andrew. I was excited to hear Hailey's input to the book. I didn't mean to neglect you." (Y/N) spoke, immediate guilt forming in her chest as a frown drew on her face.

I didn't mean to make her feel bad... Andrew thought to himself, resisting the urge to sigh.

"I'll see you later, hails. I'm going to take Andrew back to his room. I'll make sure to visit before leaving today." (Y/N) spoke, waving to Hailey as she opened the door for her and Andrew.

"Okay." Hailey nodded, returning the nurse's wave as she watched them leave and shut the door behind them.

"I didn't mean to ignore your pain, Andrew. I'm a bit of a scatterbrain, but that's no excuse." (Y/N) sighed, walking with Andrew to the elevators.

"It's okay. You didn't mean it..." Andrew murmured.

"I won't do it again." She promised, a smile on her face as she and Andrew made it to the elevators and got an open one, walking into it.

She pressed the fourth floor button and waited for the elevator to go. Even if she was growing to enjoy Andrew's company, she did feel a little uneasy being in the same elevator as him all alone.

"So, Andrew. Do you have any favorite shows?" she questioned, trying to make small talk.

"..Huh?" Andrew voiced, confused on where that came from.

"I'll be seeing you pretty often now. I want us to build a connection." She explained. "A good way to do that is finding out each other's likes and dislikes."

Andrew huffed, ignoring the warmth in his chest that her confession made him feel. They walked out of the elevator and down the hallway, stopping at the staff's room.

"I don't really like anything." Andrew admitted.

"I refuse to believe that. We'll find something!" she smiled, determined. "Wait here a second." She instructed, pulling her lanyard from out of her shirt and grabbing her keys, unlocking the staff door.

"Hi, Penelope." (Y/N) greeted once seeing the female present.

"Ah. Hello, (Y/N)!" Penelope cheered, her strawberry blonde hair swaying as she stood up from her seat. "How was patient 402? Did he-" she looked behind (Y/N) and made an "eek!" sound, backing up.

"Don't worry about him, just taking him back to his room. I had to grab painkillers first though." (Y/N) spoke, unlocking the medicine cabinet grabbing a pill bottle of ibuprofen and a bottle of water.

She grabbed a napkin and opened the pill bottle, putting two small tablets on the cloth. She walked over to Andrew with the napkin and water.

"Here, Andrew." She spoke, gently grabbing Andrew's hand and placing the pills in his palm.

He accepted it and put them in his mouth without any hesitation. (Y/N) opened the water and tilted his head up, bringing the water bottle to his mouth, just in case he couldn't hold it on his own because of the weakening limbs from the surgery's sedation. He took greedy sips before tapping her hand, allowing her to move the bottle and screw on the lid.

"There you go." She cooed. "Good job."

Why is she so much better at this job than me? She's a student! Why is my patient so trusting of her? Penelope thought. Aw, they look like such a couple! They're both so attractive too! This is too embarrassing!

Instead of doing what Penelope was thinking, she just spoke her mind.

"W-wow..." Penelope muttered, utterly confused, shocked, and a bit flustered.

"What?" (Y/N) questioned, turning to look at the young nurse.

"Ack! Nothing!" she exclaimed, her face red as she covered her eyes with her hands.

"Pen, are you feeling okay?" (Y/N) questioned, taking some steps towards Penelope. "Did you get enough sleep? Do you need food? Water?-"

"N-no thanks!" she shouted, her face growing even redder at the thought of (Y/N) tilting her head and nursing her with a water bottle instead.

Andrew understood immediately what was happening as he watched the two interact.

Damn that nurse... Andrew thought to himself, glaring daggers at Penelope from behind (Y/N)'s shoulder.

(Y/N) jumped, moving back a little, completely dazed and confused as she looked at the nurse.

THAT'S SO EMBARRASSING! Penelope screamed instead her head, resisting the urge to curl up in a ball and scream her heart out.

Penelope has a problem with loving people too much. It's one of the reasons she became a doctor, to find someone in need and nurse them with her medicine and love. Unfortunately, she's a very shy person and stresses too easily, so her bursts of lovesickness can sometimes be too much for her heart and mind (it's one of the reasons Ruby from day shift can't stand her).

"Okay...?" (Y/N) spoke, hesitantly. "If you need any help, call me. Okay?"

Penelope nodded quickly and spoke, quick to have the pair leave. "I understand! Bye now!"

Penelope shoved (Y/N) out of the room (Andrew just about ready to stand up and fight her, if it could walk, that is). Penelope locked the door behind them both as (Y/N) looked back, confused.

"Huh, that's a little more of a panic attack than usual..." (Y/N) muttered to herself. "Okay, Andrew! Let's get you to your room." She smiled, acting as if nothing happened.

(Y/N) walked down the hallway and grabbed a security guard that was stationed nearby, having them pick up Andrew and place him in his bed since she wasn't strong enough (she worked with picking up kids, not adults).

"Alright, Andrew. You're probably really tired after your surgery. I'll leave you be." (Y/N) explained, watching as the security guard left.

Just before she leaves, Andrew spoke up.

"Will you be back later?" Andrew questioned, hesitant as he hid his flustered face by turning his head to the side, away from her view.

"Of course! You can't get rid of me that easy, ya know?" she smiled.

"Great..." Andrew sighed, not-so-sarcastically as he wished.

"Oh, before I leave. Make sure you're behaving with the other nurses, they're only trying to help you." (Y/N) lightly scolded.

I don't want their help. I want yours... Andrew thought to himself, resisting the urge to grimace at her words.

“Ah, and before I forget too!” she gasped, reaching into her medical back and grabbing a book. “This is a sci-fi dystopian. You might like it! If not, no worries. We’ll find a genre for you.” She spoke, placing the book on his nightstand. “Don’t worry about reading it right now. Just sleep.”

Andrew looked at the book, then her, before nodding.

(Y/N) left the room and shut the door behind her, letting out a sigh.

What do I do now? she thought to herself. Today feels so slow... I guess I can go back to the clinic and see what Doctor Ryan's doing. Or maybe I should go check on Penelope? She was panicky today.

(Y/N) decided to check out Penelope and see what's up with her. (Y/N) is aware of Penelope's random bursts of lovesick confessions (Penelope has gotten into too much trouble with HR because of it, so everyone in the hospital knows about it), but (Y/N) had never really seen it take ahold of her that bad. Usually Penelope resorts to compliments (and light stalking), not full on shutting her brain down and panic.

Did she find a new crush? (Y/N) wondered.

Ever since (Y/N) became a student studying general pediatrics here at the hospital, she’s had her fair share of taking care of a patient every once in a blue moon for the psychiatric brand in case a nurse had a emergency and needed to leave. She met Penelope when Ruby had to leave because her daughter was in labor, and the usual nurse that took over Ruby's patients for the night shift had come up with the flu. (Y/N) had taken over Ruby’s patients that night and met Penelope, Penelope explaining what (Y/N) would have to do as a psychiatric nurse for the day.

That was four months ago. They can technically be considered friends but they have the habit of being a little distant, though it’s slowly fading away ever since they agreed on hanging out every Saturday. Their Saturdays consisted of shopping and running errands together since it’s a day they’re both off.

(Y/N) walked back down to the staff room and unlocked the door, finding Penelope on the table face-down.

“Are you okay?” (Y/N) questioned, standing a good distance from Penelope in case she needed some space.

“How do you do it?” Penelope questioned, lifting her face off the table.

“Do what?” (Y/N) questioned.

“How can you be so calm with such cute guys?!” Penelope shouted, balling up her fists as her face went red.

Does Penelope have a crush on Andrew? (Y/N) thought to herself.

Her stomach twisted in either disgust or anger, probably both. She felt like throwing up as she thought about Penelope and Andrew together.

Andrew was supposed to be Penelope’s patient, but (Y/N) swept him away from her after caring for him one day. Penelope had worked day shift that day since she was taking over one of the day nurses shifts because they were taking the day off for her son's graduation, so Penelope switched shifts with them for the day and worked their day shift, resulting in working with Andrew. However, apparently Andrew didn't like her care enough, or perhaps (Y/N) just has a more calm aura around her compared to Penelope. How she won Andrew over, she’s not sure, but he chose her. He chose her, not Penelope.

“Ah, well… I guess I’m just really good at hiding what I feel?” (Y/N) smiled, feeling her polite smile twitch.

“I’m hopeless. How can I ever find someone to love if I just freak out like this...?” Penelope sighed.

“There, there, pen. I’m sure you’ll find someone one day.” (Y/N) comforted her, patting Penelope’s shoulder.

Yes, not today or tomorrow. Not Andrew. (Y/N) thought to herself.

“What will I do without you?!” Penelope cried, throwing herself on (Y/N) and hugging her tightly as she wept into her chest.

(Y/N) resisted the urge to push Penelope off her. This was seriously unprofessional and she's certain if one of her coworkers (or worse, her superior and trainer Doctor Ryan) walked in, they'd possibly be sent to HR for how this may look. As much as they’re decent-ish friends, she’s not on the hugging level yet, but she doesn’t want to push Penelope off in case Penelope starts crying about that instead.

“Aw, pen. You’re too pretty to be crying about boys! Your eyeshadow is getting ruined.” (Y/N) spoke, diverting the subject.

“Aw jeez! Look what I did! I’m such a klutz…” Penelope sniffled, grabbing her phone and opening the camera to selfie-mode. “Aw! It was my good eye too! That took forever to even out.”

“How about I help you fix it?” (Y/N) offered.

“You’re the best.” Penelope smiled, wiping the tears out of her eyes, only smudging her eyeshadow worse on both sides now.

“Don’t mention it. Do you have the makeup on you?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Yep.” Penelope spoke, cheering up as she grabbed her makeup purse from her staff locker.

She sat down on the staff room table and handed the bag to (Y/N), allowing the girl to look through her most prized possessions that kept her feeling cute and confident.

(Y/N) found an eyeshadow box and opened it, browsing the colors and looking for the right one Penelope had smudged all over her.

“Cute colors.” (Y/N) commented, adoring the light shades of pinks and nudes.

“Thank you.” Penelope blushed, watching as (Y/N) grabbed a small bag of makeup wipes and opening them.

(Y/N) grabbed a wipe and scooted closer to Penelope, grabbing her chin and angling it down so (Y/N) could see better. Penelope ignored the blush rising in her face and her heartbeat increasing, instead opting to close her eyes to ignore the closeness the two shared as (Y/N) wiped the makeup off Penelope’s face.

(Y/N) noticed the blush on Penelope’s face and decided it’d be best not to acknowledge it or tease her. The first time (Y/N) noticed Penelope’s blush when they first met, she made a joke about it that left Penelope speechless around her for a few days. (Y/N) would rather not experience that awkwardness again.

If anybody walked in right now, (Y/N) prays that it’s anybody but a manager or Andrew. With how close they are right now, anyone would get the wrong idea.

She wiped off the remaining makeup before grabbing a small brush and dabbed it in the light pink shade Penelope applied earlier, fixing her eye makeup. It took a few minutes before (Y/N) finished it.

“Ta-dah!” (Y/N) cheered, resisting the powerful urge to say “you were my star patient today, have a sticker.” (It’s grown in her vocabulary now).

“Thanks.” Penelope smiled, grabbing her phone and admiring herself in the camera.

“No problem. I’m going to get back to the pediatric branch. If there’s any problems make sure to come find me.” (Y/N) explained. “Oh, we're still meeting up tomorrow, right? Think about what doughnuts you want! See you later!” (Y/N) waved, quickly shutting the staff door without waiting for Penelope’s farewell.

Now that that’s all out of the way… I should get back to Doctor Ryan. (Y/N) thought to herself.

There was a lingering feeling dwelling inside of her. She still felt sick, like kneeling down and spilling her guts out on the floor. Her chest still bubbled with anger, feeling as though steam is escaping through her ears.

It’ll probably take all night for me to calm down. (Y/N) figured, letting out a sigh. What was I angry about again? she thought.

She walked away from the staff room and down the hallway, heading to the elevators. She boarded on and pressed the second floor button, leaning onto the handrail. The elevator’s movement only worsen the discomfort in her stomach.

(Y/N) exited the elevator when the doors opened, walking down the hallway to the staff room. She would’ve made it there if she didn’t hear obnoxiously loud whispering in the room next to her, sounding similar to a toddler bickering. She peeked in the room and saw two little boys huddled together in front of a hanging white sheet, speaking to what appears as themselves. She noticed the hospital wrist bands on their arms, confirming their admission here.

“What are you two doing?” (Y/N) questioned, crossing her arms.

They both jumped, letting out their own squeals as they turned around and looked at her.

“N-nothing! Just… playing!” one smiled.

They both looked like twins, (Y/N) noted.

“You both should be in your rooms. What are your names?” she questioned.

“I’m Tom, that’s Jerry.” The other toddler introduced themselves as.

“Like the cartoon?” she questioned, a smile on her face.

“Um… yes?” he spoke, hesitantly.

Wow. Am I that old? They obviously haven’t seen it… she thought to herself.

“Well, it sure matches you both, since you sneaked out of your rooms. Who are you talking to?” (Y/N) questioned, resisting the urge to peek behind the curtain.

Yeah. Like I’m that dumb… I’m not going to die like Psycho from a killer hiding behind a damn curtain. She thought to herself. And there’s no way I’m investigating either. I don’t mess with ghosts.

“Come along, now.” (Y/N) spoke.

(Y/N) watched as they walked away, shooting each other glares. She looked at the curtain once last time before shutting the door and walking away. If she looked behind the curtain, she would’ve saw Ashley hiding from the security guard, a scalpel in her hand and ready to attack (Y/N) and the kids if the curtain was opened. Ashley was still mad at Andrew, and now she was mad at all the nurses in the hospital, but especially Andrew’s new nurse he grew to favor.

(Y/N) led the two kids to the staff room and unlocked the door, peeking in and looking for any nurse that recognizes these two. She saw one of the pediatric nurses, Wally, and smiled.

“Ah, Wally. Do you know these two?” (Y/N) questioned, bringing the two kids into the room.

“I thought I locked their doors. They kept trying to escape…” Wally sighed, standing up from his seat.

“I used a pen to escape.” Jerry smiled. “Then broke Tom out.”

“Well, thank you for telling me how you got out, because now there’s a no pen policy in your rooms.” Wally spoke, giving them a stern glare.

“Aw! You just had to run your mouth!” Tom huffed.

“You didn’t stop me!” Jerry poorly excused as Wally dragged them back to their hospital rooms.

“How was I supposed to know what you were gonna say?” Tom questioned.

I wonder what they’re in here for. (Y/N) thought to herself. They sure seem energetic for being sick or injured, but I supposed it could be something internal.

She decided to ignore it and refill her medical bag. She grabbed a new bottle of water and pretzels since she gave her old pair to Hailey earlier.

She walked out of the room and locked the door, heading back to the clinic. She found Doctor Ryan’s office and stood outside, waiting a few minutes in case there was a patient, that way in case a patient was getting a shot they wouldn't get startled and jump, accidentally breaking the needle or causing harm. She heard nothing from inside the door and assumed there was no patients, so she knocked gently.

“Come in.” Doctor Ryan spoke.

“Hello, sir.” (Y/N) greeted, entering the room and shutting the door behind them. “Is there any new patients today?”

“Only walk-ins, remember?” Doctor Ryan reminded.

“Yeah, but I’m so bored…” she sighed.

“I’ve never met a student that’s actually excited to work.” Doctor Ryan admitted, chuckling.

“Not all that excited, but I woke up today to go to work, and I get paid to work, so I wanna work. Time is so slow when there’s nothing to do.” (Y/N) rambled.

“I agree. Hey, I heard you got Andrew admitted for surgery. Internal bleeding in the brain?” Doctor reminded.

(Y/N) felt a flash of worry and she grimaced.

“Was that… the wrong call?” she questioned, not even bothering to hide the discomfort and worry on her face.

“It was the right call. Good job. I just wanted to see you squirm.” The doctor laughed.

“Sheesh, you worried me! I thought I got fired before evening getting the real job.” (Y/N) sighed.

“Sorry, sorry. How is he doing? Social-wise? Is he still stingy towards the other nurses?” he questioned.

“I introduced him to Hailey today. They both were quiet, but they interacted for a bit, which is good considering Hailey hasn’t seen a new visitor in a while.” She explained. "He saw Penelope too and didn't throw anything at her. So that's... good?"

“How’s Hailey’s condition?” Doctor Ryan asked.

“She’s only getting worse. I really don’t think she’ll live for long.” (Y/N) sighed, a frown forming on her face.

“That’s unfortunate. Sadly, it’s part of our job to see them go sometimes.” Doctor Ryan spoke, patting her shoulder. “But hey, we’re here to help prevent that.”

“That does remind me, when is Hailey’s next chemotherapy session?” she questioned.

“It’ll be Sunday, but you and me won’t be here. With our day off and all.” Doctor Ryan explained. “Any plans?”

“I’m hanging out with Penelope from the psychiatric branch tomorrow. Sunday I’ll catch up on sleep.” (Y/N) informed.

She noticed his smug expression and glared at him, but that didn’t stop him from making his joke.

“Well, I bet Andr-“

“Don’t finish it.” (Y/N) warned.

“Okay. Okay.” He chuckled.

“What do you plan on doing?” she questioned, redirecting the conversation.

“Hanging out with my wife and kids. Probably get no sleep.” He shrugged.

“Poor you, family man.” (Y/N) teased.

“You don’t understand what it’s like trying to sleep in a house with two toddlers during the day. It’s not very easy.” He explained.

“How’s the wife and kids anyway?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Jax just celebrated his third birthday. Piper’s learning to read. And Jane wants me to work day shift.” Doctor Ryan sighed.

“Well, why don’t you?” (Y/N) questioned. “You sleep in the day and can’t spend time with your family at night since they're sleeping. I think it’d be best.”

“Exactly. Everyone does that. We don’t have enough nurses for night shift, especially skilled ones.” Doctor Ryan huffed, then remembered that (Y/N) technically qualifies as unskilled, at the moment at least. “Which is why I teach you! So I can skedaddle!”

“I’ll be the best pediatrician here.” (Y/N) smiled, then noticed the stare Doctor Ryan gave her. “Night shift wise, I will be. You’ll be on the day shift.”

Doctor Ryan’s walkie-talkie went off, catching both of their attention.

“Doctor Ryan, a nurse is bringing a patient to you. Possible UTI.” The walkie-talkie spoke.

“Aw, poor kid.” (Y/N) spoke.

“Yeah, poor kid alright.” Doctor Ryan grimaced, just imagining the pain and discomfort.

“Well, let’s get it checked out then prescribe antibiotics if they’re right.” She sighed, stretching her arms out and cracking her knuckles. . . Thirty minutes before (Y/N)’s shift and she felt exhausted. The work day went by pretty fast and now she was walking down the hallway to see Hailey.

She slowly opened the door, not wanting to knock and accidentally wake up Hailey, but she wanted to make sure Hailey was still breathing.

She expected to see a sleeping girl but instead she saw that she was wide awake, using her nightstands lamp as a light so she could read.

“Hailey!” (Y/N) lightly hissed through her teeth, quiet so she doesn’t accidentally wake up any nearby patients sleeping in their rooms.

“Hello, Ms. (L/N).” Hailey smiled, unphased that she got caught.

“It’s 5:30 in the morning and you’re still up. You should’ve been long in bed sleeping.” She scolded, walking up to Hailey and sitting down on her guest chair. “But, since you’re up. How’s the book?”

“I think it’s really interesting, the way her decisions could have such consequences. I never thought decisions would mean so much.” Hailey explained.

“Of course. You know, I had to decide if I wanted to be a nurse or a writer.” (Y/N) admitted.

“Well, you’re a nurse now.” Hailey smiled, before it dropped. “Do… you think if you weren’t a nurse, would we have never met?”

“Probably not.” (Y/N) admitted, not bothering to sugarcoat it to her. "But that's just a consequence from my decision. Not all consequences mean bad things. I don't regret not being a writer either. I'm here with you, aren't I?" she smiled, patting Hailey's hand reassuringly.

"Uh, that boy from earlier..." Hailey started.

(Y/N)'s smile disappeared as she felt a bolt of lightning strike her. She felt sick again, and her chest started to pop and boil, and her hands started to tremble. She dug her nails into her palms once more and tilted her head, leaning in close to listen to the girl.

"He was scary..." Hailey muttered, causing (Y/N) to let out a forced giggle.

"Ah, yes. I supposed Andrew was. But he's real sweet when he opens up." (Y/N) smiled, giving her a small white lie since she really didn't know herself if Andrew was sweet, but she at least wanted to ease the girl's nerves.

"I think he likes you." Hailey teased, letting out a girlish giggle.

"Everyone apparently thinks that." (Y/N) laughed, recalling Doctor Ryan's words.

"Well, do you like him back?" Hailey questioned.

"Oh, hails. I just met him yesterday!" (Y/N) pointed out, shaking her head as she smiled.

"It's true love at first sight!" Hailey declared.

"Where'd you learn that saying?" (Y/N) questioned.

"I'm serious! I think you two would be really cute, you're like polar opposites!" Hailey claimed, ignoring (Y/N)'s previous question.

Really, personality-wise, I don't think we're too different. Hailey doesn't understand my outside-work persona. (Y/N) thought to herself as she just smiled and went along with what Hailey said.

"You should confess!" Hailey encouraged.

"What's with you and this?" (Y/N) questioned.

"I know I won't live long enough to experience love like in the books... so I figured the second best thing would be having you live it." Hailey smiled, her smile fake and twitching.

"Oh, hails..." (Y/N) sighed, getting up from her chair and walking to Hailey's bedside.

Hailey scooted over so that (Y/N) could sit on the bed with her. Hailey immediately wrapped her arms around (Y/N)'s torso and dug her face into (Y/N)'s chest, her shoulders heaving up and down, giving away that she was crying. (Y/N) sighed and wrapped one of her arms around Hailey, the other she used to gently caress Hailey's bald scalp, a permanent reminder of her condition.

(Y/N) wanted to tell her that Hailey would be alright, that she would make it through, but she knew she couldn't promise that, especially to a little kid. She wasn't going to accidentally give the girl false hope and have her miserable on her potential death bed.

"You're such a sweet girl, any boy would fall for you instantly. Your cute little button nose and brown eyes would have any boy smitten. Your laugh and sweet personality would have any boy confess their love for you. If you made some friends with the boys here in this branch, you'll have so many guys surrounding you, you wouldn't know what to do!" (Y/N) reassured, poking Hailey's nose and causing her to giggle.

"Do you think they'd still like me even without hair?" Hailey questioned.

"Course they would. If a boy only likes you for your looks, punch him for me." (Y/N) joked, smiling.

"I will." Hailey giggled.

"Hey, I'll tell you what. When I come back on Monday, I'll take you out to the garden. The flowers are in bloom this year!" (Y/N) spoke.

"Promise?" Hailey gasped.

"I swear on my life." (Y/N) smiled. "Now, I'm going to go pay Andrew a little visit. You better sleep when I leave this room, understand?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Yes.” Hailey nodded.

“Thank you. And good job today, Hailey. I’m so proud of you for talking with Andrew and staying strong as always. What color star would you like today?” (Y/N) asked, reaching into her medical bag.

“Purple.” Hailey smiled.

“You got it.” (Y/N) smiled, placing the sticker down onto Hailey’s nightstand. “Goodnight, hails. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Goodnight.” Hailey smiled, getting comfortable in her bed.

(Y/N) walked out of the room and closed the door, making her way to the elevators. She got on and pressed the fourth floor button, waiting for the elevator to stop moving. The doors opened and she walked out and to Andrew’s room. She made it in front of the door then knocked.

There was no answer.

Ah, Andrew must’ve went to bed like I asked. It’s good that he actually listens to me. (Y/N) thought, a smile appearing on her face at the thought of having possibly tamed the cannibalistic murderer (however she did, she does not know).

(Y/N) opened the door quietly, just to check. It’s also a possibility that he could’ve died in his sleep due to the anesthesia or a error in the surgery. It could also be a possibility that he jumped out of the window since he’s on suicide-watch (not like any other nurse had the nerves to come in and actually leave with no bruises).

She opened the door and noted that he was still in bed, sleeping peacefully. His heart monitor was still on and showed his vitals, all sounding normal and looked it too. Her heart sped up a bit as she watched him sleep peacefully.

He looks so peaceful. (Y/N) noted, admiring his vulnerable and slumbering figure.

He was handsome when he wasn't frowning. Well, even when he did have a scowl on his face, he was certainly able to make such an ugly face a pretty one. His pale skin in comparison to his dark hair was breathtaking, and his green eyes were simply divine, like Granny Smith apples; sour and tart, but a hint of sweet when you bite down just right.

She eventually snapped out of her trance after remembering that she was still in the hallway and what she was doing was no doubt creepy, and shut the door. It probably would’ve been a good idea to have told him that she would be gone for a few days, but she’s sure he’ll manage decently.

She walked away and to the branch’s staff room, unlocking the door. Lucky, there was no one in for her to have to converse with—nobody except Penelope. Penelope patients were always the most tamest and laidback since HR knew her.. questionable... personality.

“Hey!” Penelope smiled, just finishing clocking out.

“Hello!” (Y/N) greeted back, walking towards her and grabbing the clipboard and pen from her hands as Penelope handed it to her.

“How was patient 402 today?” Penelope questioned.

“Ah, he had surgery so I didn’t see much of him. He saw Hailey for a few minutes before he went to his room and slept.” (Y/N) explained.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m so glad he’s doing okay and I’m glad he’s getting along with Hailey.” Penelope squealed.

“Mmhm.” (Y/N) hummed, finishing her clock-out.

She used the computer and typed up today's report for all her patients. When she got to Andrew's she typed: get casting on leg done immediately while he’s still asleep so he or his sister doesn’t get hostile.

Penelope read the screen from over (Y/N)’s shoulder, then spoke.

“Oh. His sister? I haven’t seen her since yesterday!” Penelope explained.

“Huh. Well, maybe she had something to do today?” (Y/N) reasoned.

“Maybe! But I heard from Ruby that she was kicked out of the hospital after she got aggressive with Andrew. She probably got banned from returning.” Penelope explained.

(Y/N) physically grimaced, a scowl forming on her face at Penelope saying Andrew’s name. She really didn’t like it when Penelope said his name and she’s not sure why.

“Is there something wrong? Did you forget to do something?” Penelope questioned.

“Oh, no. I just made the face because I can’t believe his sister could be so mean to him while he’s injured.” (Y/N) smiled forcefully.

“Right? Poor Andrew… I really hope he doesn’t have to see her anytime soon! It makes me wonder how she usually treats him uninjured.” Penelope frowned, pitying the poor patient who wasn’t in the room.

(Y/N) grimaced again, hating her saying “Andrew” just as much as she hated it the first time, if not, even stronger.

“I agree.” She spoke through her smiling teeth, another forceful grin. "Welp!" she smiled, clapping her hands together. "See you tomorrow, Penelope!" she spoke, quick to clock out and leave.

(Y/N) quickly walked down the hall to the elevators, hopping in and pressing the lobby button. She took a moment to compose herself, leaning against the railing.

I feel so weird today. My chest feels like it's being squeezed and I feel almost angry... She thought, confused of her emotions.

Maybe she didn't eat a big enough lunch. When she gets home, she'll eat dinner and drink lots of water before heading to bed. Yeah, she could use the meal and the sleep. It can be really difficult being the caretaker when you have no one to care for you, but in her own words, "in order to care for another, you must first learn to care for yourself."

She got in her car and drove back to her apartment, shutting the door and locking it before she collapsed on her living room's couch. She laid on her back for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling blankly, no thoughts crossing her mind.

She needed the few minutes to gain some energy. It’s always so exhausting smiling and being positive, especially in such a depressing and brooding setting such as a hospital where many meet their end, even worse that its children.

She doesn’t regret her decision in going through with becoming a pediatrician, but it does get heartbreaking seeing young kids die. She tries her best to help them, but sometimes there’s just some things out of your control.

She knows that when Hailey dies, she’ll be absolutely devastated. Out of all the patients she sees and talks to, she always makes sure to give Hailey the most of her attention and time.

Hailey was first admitted into the hospital when she was seven. After weeks of in and out tests at the hospital, MRI’s and blood withdraws, she was diagnosed with cancer. From then on, she spent her days at the hospital. Hailey’s parents were always busy, one was a lawyer and the other was a traveling diplomat. The nurses were basically babysitters for her while her parents were working.

Her parents loved her, they loved her so much that they couldn’t bare to see her slowly deteriorate in front of their eyes, so they forced themselves away from her side and indulged in work to rid the thought of their only daughter dying. They didn’t realize how lonely or terrifying it was for Hailey, to suddenly be surrounded by white walls and white floors and white sheets. Surrounded by the stench of heavy bleach and aroma of lemons. By radiation machines and clumps of lost hair on her pillows.

She watched out of her window as other patients walk in and out of the hospital, their families walking by their side, supporting them during their times of need. Her visitors weren't family, but nurses and doctors entering and exiting her room, no longer bothering to smile or give her white lies of how she'll heal soon.

(Y/N) couldn't try to understand or emphasize, she wasn't sick in a hospital bed balding. She wasn't bedridden, and she had the fortunate ability to move her legs unlike Hailey's legs, the clumping of leukemia cells in Hailey's knees making it hard to walk on some days. (Y/N)'s been Hailey's nurse for five months now, she had started nursing Hailey before she decided to change her career.

(Y/N) was originally going to be a pediatric nurse, make sure children are sticking to their proper recovery path and taking medications that they're doctors are prescribing them, provide utmost comfortability and nurturing to them as they could, and constantly run tests on their weights, diets, and symptoms, but she changed her studies to become a pediatric hematologist-oncologist after meeting Hailey.

(Y/N) graduated high school a year early by taking Advanced Placement (college-level) courses and getting a head start by going to classes during school breaks and on the weekends. It was exhausting and downright infuriating at times, but she managed and graduated with her high school diploma along with a certificate in child care after completing a three-year course in high school for early childhood education; allowing her to get a part-time job after high school by working in a daycare. Then she moved out from her parents, heading to college and completing one year of adolescent medicine (originally, it was supposed to be four, but her AP classes counted for college-credit and high school credits). She finished college five months ago, and now she's learning from Doctor Ryan JTED general pediatrics while taking online hematology-oncology classes to graduate med school early.

She had always been an over-achiever, aiming for success to please her parents and earn what little praise she could. It had been a goal ever since she was a child, to hear such little words from them with actual meaning, not just false words spoken on auto-pilot to shoo their child away.

Her father wanted her to be successful and rich in life, so she wouldn't have to deal with poverty in her future anymore, and her mother... well, her mother really didn't care what she did. In fact, her mother never cared at all. Her parents were always working all the time. Her father worked as an overworked and underpaid mechanic who worked 6-8, never having any time for his daughter as he worked in the day and slept at night. Her mother was also a nurse, specializing in cardiology; she slept in the day and worked at night. Even on her days off, she slept and ignored (Y/N)'s needs.

From two years old to five, (Y/N) was locked alone in a room with a bed, TV, and a bathroom. She was locked in a dark room for 16 hours a day, with no food and the only water source was from the sink's faucet. All she did in that room was sleep, watch cartoons on the TV, and cry; begging to be let out of the room, begging for food, begging for any sort of affection or tenderness from her mother who slept in the room next door so that (Y/N) wouldn't interrupt her sleeping. Instead, the only affection she received in her life was the embrace of her bed's sheets.

All her time in her hands caused her to sleep so much she developed a sleeping disorder, hypersomnia; the inability to remain alert, woke, or refreshed in the daytime despite having an excessive amount of rest. That condition became chronic, even now she struggled with it, which made her excessive daytime sleepiness so much worse due to working eight hours at the hospital for her JTED classes of general pediatrics (at least she got paid for her apprenticeship, working from 8 A.M. to 5 P.M.), and studying online for hematology-oncology for at least 3 to 4 hours after work. She's eternally grateful for her med school being paid, earning a scholarship due to all her high grades in her AP classes and completing college with her adolescent medicine degree. Medicine was a part of her mother's side of the family, and (Y/N) naturally became a caretaker after learning to care for herself her whole life; touch starved from the hands of her mother and father.

If (Y/N) had been the patient in the hospital bed, would her mother have cared then? Would she have shown a bit of sympathy? Even just touch her arm for a few seconds to feel for a vein and inject a IV needle in? The answer was no. Her mother didn't care when (Y/N) had been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, fainting after days of neglecting her needs of food and water in order to complete her piling school work. Her mother didn't care when (Y/N) pleaded for help at ten years old, saying she believed she had depression and needed help.

Instead of helping her, her mother shook it off as hormones from puberty, and even told her to stop overreacting that: "You can't be depressed. People have such worse lives than you, dying alone in hospital beds, and here you are, crying about a few hormonal mood swings."

Her mother didn't even care when (Y/N) had tried to kill herself when she was just eleven years old. For a nurse, whose job is supposed to protect and care, she was cruel.

Her father cared, he really did, but he just didn't have the time for her. While her mother slept and ignored her, he was at work busting his ass off to earn money and support their family. He had grown up poor, living in immense poverty, sharing a bedroom with his sister, unsure of when their next meal was. He never graduated high school, he went to the military but after a few years was rejected due to heart conditions, which led him to coming home and getting his GED so that he could go to college and become a mechanic. Money was always a problem for her family, even in a two-income household it was hard to meet living standards. A big reason she piled all that work on her and neglected her health was so she could get her schooling paid for.

Remember her saying from earlier? "In order to care for another, you must first learn to care for yourself." Well, she had to teach herself that the hard way. She realized she couldn't be a nurse and preach others to care for themselves if she couldn't even care for herself. So, she took on hobbies to help her mental health, forced herself to make friends and gain confidence, made an oath to stop her self-harm when she was young. This was a challenge, but it presented opportunity for growth, for success, for happiness.

Opportunity is everywhere, so long as you choose to believe it. You don't need to see things to know it's there, so long as you have faith. Opportunity is everywhere, lurking and waiting to jump out from the corner and get you! Even the corner of your bedroom, while you lay thinking of nothing and everything depressingly on your couch. Opportunity is stalking, waiting patiently for you to walk through your bedroom door so they could give you a big hug! Or a stab! Or multiple stabs!

Opportunity comes in many forms. Education, money, experience, decisions, and even people; such as Ashley Graves! Opportunities to pursue your goal of nursing, or if we use Ashley's motivation, a wonderful opportunity to stab a little nurse out of jealousy all because she just happened to get too close to her brother after he made a minor slip-up. A Grave consequence, really.

A cliff-hanger! This is where the next chapter will take some time to come out since all the previous chapters were drafts I wrote for fun before I started writing for Tumblr.

Also, Penelope is one of my first yanderes I created myself, an OC! While she won't play a major role in this series, she'll have her own headcannons and such one day once I get around to it, maybe you'll find an interest in her yourself!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, current chapter, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (in the works)

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aita-blorbos · 2 months

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(Spoilers for Magnus Archives)

AITA for burning my childhood house down

Hello, Jon.

Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. (slightly strained) I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

WIBTA for starting the apocalypse

I hope you’ll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It’s rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can’t tell me you’re not curious.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, Jon, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.

Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When RS (87, M) first gathered our little band – L, S, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from R, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.

But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. RS was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.

At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race.

Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?

I convinced RS to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.

It. Took. Years. for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.

It was… flawed, of course, as all RS’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.

But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.

It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organization I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own.

Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.

It was not until I met G (70, F) that things began to really come into focus.

You see, the role of Archivist has been part of the Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers; most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings.

But G was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.

More than once I thought she must secretly be of the Hunt – but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times.

I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.

I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.

In any case, G’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?

Perhaps there were a long line of G throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?

She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.

When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all those years ago.

Knowing G, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.

You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?

Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.

To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.

Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but never sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back into the place next to reality where they dwell.

The solution, then, is simple: A new ritual must be devised which will bring through all the Powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the Eye’s auspices, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots.

And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to G’s ill-timed retirement plans.

Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.

It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.

Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, Jon. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.

You are a living chronicle of terror.

Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom.

Do you see where I’m going, Jon?

It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.

I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.

Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during G’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.

I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when JP attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.

The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting matter.

Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?

More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.

So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.

Poor H (~20, F). I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.

It worked, though.

Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.

JL (~70, M) was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much G would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.

I justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.

Still. I’d requested Detective T (~25, F) be assigned to the case when they found G’s body in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.

Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.

J (27, F) served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr. C, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.

Honestly, I had – nothing to do with M (23, F) and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.

I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

The Unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks; you needed power. And that was something the Unknowing served to test, though it posed no actual danger in the grand scheme of things.

And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colors.

By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you – (sigh) – Knowing something you shouldn’t.

I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.

All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.

I was a little put out when that idiot JH (???, M) misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.

I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.

Honestly, Detective T has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.

And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

Poor P (~50, M). He really should have left well enough alone. Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about M (same age as you, Jon, M).

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is M, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.

You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.

Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.

Now. Repeat after me.

You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies!

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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