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colderdrafts · 2 years

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15: New Plan

The Great Assembly, gender neutral reader x monster (male naga). Sfw. Previous Next

You type in the number and dial.

It's stupid. It's so stupid you're doing this but you can't think of what else to do. It's the middle of the night, your heart is racing and you swore you saw an all too familiar long-limbed silhouette moving through the streets outside. It's been months, you KNOW it's nothing.

But your trembling body doesn't.

"..Bwu-huh?" comes Irwin's voice through the phone, groggy with sleep.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry to wake you, just-"

"Hold on. Are you alright?" he asks, immediately perking up and on high alert. You hear the sound of fabric rustling through the phone, presumably as he sits up.

"Yes - no," you sigh through your nose, trying to calm your breathing. "I know it's dumb but-"

"It's not dumb, buddy," Irwin says gently. "Nightmares again? Wanna tell me about it? Should I come get you?"

There he goes again, a never-ending foundation of support and patience. Unfortunately, he's very good at it.

That's why you called him, after all.

"No," you mutter, taking a deep breath. "No, it's alright. Could you just.. talk for a bit?"

"My specialty," he announces with flair, attempting to lighten the mood. "You got it."

Irwin spends the next few minutes going over his day, including a nice conversation with his father, delicious tuna sandwiches and a very cute dog he got to pet. It's so terribly mundane to just have him gently chatting that it soothes any worry you had.

How could you be in trouble when everything is, at this point, so very perfectly normal?

You can feel your heart settling a little and your breathing evening out bit by bit as you listen to his tale.

"- and that's why I'm not allowed inside the company kitchen," Irwin finishes with a snort. He pauses. "Are you okay?"

"Better now. Thanks," you sigh, glancing out your window at the emptiness of the city streets at night. Nothing is there, and nothing had been there. "It's just my paranoia acting up again, nothing's happening, don't worry. I don't even know why I called you. I'm sorry."

"Hey it's chill. I'm glad you did! If I can't bore you to sleep with my amazingly interesting every-day bull, how else are you gonna have energy to finish my excel sheet for me tomorrow?" he chuckles.

You scoff in feign indignation. "I have never agreed to such a thing."

"Not yet you haven't! Pinky promise, it's a fun one this time. Lots of numbers and unsorted names on lists and stuff. Right up your alley."

"I can't believe you're using my late night paranoia as an excuse to get out of work," you laugh.

"Hey, if I can distract your brain with my terrible coworker manners I might as well. It's working, isn't it?"

Damn him, it is. "Thank you Irwin."

"Anytime!"

It's a rough night where sleep comes and goes, and you keep hearing the bone chilling cheeriness of Mira's voice on repeat in your mind. The new feeling of responsibility for this situation cast upon you has not done well to soothe any agitated strains coursing through your body.

You hear Elise get up around 7am and start mulling about downstairs. You're not getting any sleep anyway, so you decide to join her in the kitchen.

"You look like someone smashed you with a hammer," she comments as a greeting when you poke your head through the doorway to see what she's doing.

She's downed a flowery apron, rolled up her sleeves and her tough hair pulled back in a ponytail. The kitchen counter is covered in baking ingredients and flour. Looks like she's preparing some batter.

"Good morning to you too," you grumble at her, entering the room fully. "Smells good in here."

She smiles and you hear her sniff the air briefly. "Well it did. Mr. Grumpy kept you up last night?"

You groan in exasperation. "It's that bad? I just gave him a hug!"

"Then you've done him a solid," Elise chuckles, and returns her attention to the batter in front of her.

You settle against the kitchen counter. "Did you sleep alright?"

Elise nods. "Like a brick. Been a while since I've had time to just unwind for a bit like this. It's nice," she looks at you. "Well. Horrible circumstances saying that I can, but. You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I guess with everything going on work isn't really a top priority anymore. I don't dislike my job, but now I feel sorta bad for wishing for some excitement."

"Well, careful what you wish for as fae say."

You look around the kitchen and take in the rustic charm. Something as simple as watching Elise preparing a batter - for bread, seems like - it's a nice break from the horrors that'd plagued you all night to be a part of something so ordinary.

"I wouldn't have taken you for the type to be into baking," you note, watching her expertly fold the dough.

"Gotta put these guns to use somehow," Elise flexes her impressively muscular right arm momentarily and grins. "Ya’know, since I'm currently not wrangling shady folks intruding on company property and all. Wanna join? I still need to roll them out."

You roll up your sleeves. "So you have a brother who likes to sleep on concrete?" you ask to fill the silence as you get to work.

"Yep. When he's not crashing here, he works in ocean research-mumbo-jumbo so he's out sailing a lot,” she replies. “He's a smart lad, always chatting my ear off about the newest deep-sea discovery. I don't get half of it, but he seems happy."

"Sounds like an interesting job," you nod. You glance at her. "There's something else, actually."

"Hmm?"

"I uh, I heard you talking the other night. You really don't have to feel guilty, you know?"

She pauses, not looking at you. Seems she’s not too keen on turning the conversation in this direction, but she responds regardless. "Heard that, huh? Look, I know. It's just - I grew fond of the little rascal pretty quick, and he was with me when he got snatched. It's hard not to is all."

You focus on rolling out a bun. "I get it. Just - I thought you should know."

She nods.

"And another thing - Thanks for letting me stay here. Or well, both of us stay here. You didn't have to do that."

"'Course, can't have anything happening to the other hum that barreled into my life," she snickers, gently bumping your shoulder. "'sides, I kind of see myself as a nanny of sorts. Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you and Amren.”

"Nanny?” you chuckle. “We’re all adults here, is that really necessary?"

Elise dumps a bun on the counter with a dull splat, and flicks some flour at your face playfully. "Gotta make sure you don't do anything brash, and that the grumpy idiot doesn't destroy whatever little connection you two have when trying to stop you."

You wipe the flour of your face. "Connection? What do you mean?"

"Look. That useless slab of rocks is never going to tell you this himself, so I will," she says. "He obviously cares about you. I've known that stubborn snake for years and trust me. He does not go out of his way, ever. But he does for you. So whatever the hell you did to him, keep doing it,” she grins. “If anything, as a favor to me. Unfortunately I care about that dumbass, and you bet your lil' hum behind I'm going to make that your problem."

Your problem? Is it one?

You don’t exactly know what you've 'done' to said dumbass, it certainly didn't seem like much has changed in his point of view, other than an odd need to keep an eye on you and his awkward attempts at being supportive. Perhaps those small gestures means more than you think. Elise has known Amren longer than you have, so supposedly you’ll have to take her word for it.

“I don’t really know what to say to that,” you admit.

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to say anything. Just keep on truckin’ and you’ll be fine.”

A little later the buns have been set to prove, and you've settled at the kitchen table, chatting back and forth. Elise is very easy to talk to, her rough-and-gruff perspective on things makes you laugh more than once.

She shares some stories of her and her brother's upbringing in the city, and how their parents used to take them sailing. She asks you gently on how you’re doing with all of this, and you try your best to share a little of your troubles and the gnawing worry in your heart.

You reassure her though that staying here has been good for you so far.

"I don't know what I would've done sitting alone in my apartment. I think paranoia would get the best of me,” you finish.

"That's pretty reasonable all things considered. Don't worry, it gets lonely here too when my brother's away. I'm happy to have company,” she smiles. Then she frowns. “Even if it means dealing with you."

Her sudden shift in tone makes you look up in confusion but Elise is looking behind you. You turn and watch Amren slithering into the kitchen, looking as happy as a rotten prune.

"Still not a morning person, huh?" you comment.

"Morning sunshine~" Elise sings.

Amren grumbles something under his breath and goes to set a kettle on. "Tiny decided to pick up a call from a certain coyote last night," he says to Elise. "After spending an hour trying to break into Irwin's phone. Keeping me up."

"Snitch," you scold him.

He flicks his tongue at you.

Elise turns to you, clacking her tusks and instantly on guard, as you knew she would be. "You talked to her?!"

You explain briefly the interaction you had, to which she listens intently.

"What did Irwin say?" she asks when you’re done.

Amren hands both of you a warm mug of coffee and settles next to you.

"I have no idea," you mutter, defeated, and pause to take a sip. "Something about me 'starting the company'? Why on Earth 2.0 would he-"

"At," Amren adds, interrupting you. "Starting at the company."

Realization hits you and you spot the same look in Amren's eyes.

"Tiny, when was your starting date at the company?" he asks.

"I don't - sometime March? I guess?"

"Hold on," Amren hands you his mug and leaves your side to deftly slither up the stairs, leaving you and Elise hanging in the kitchen. Moments later he returns with his laptop, sets it on the table and turns it on.

You watch him fiddle with it in silence, eyes scanning the page with brows furrowed in concentration.

"March 3rd," he announces, looking up at you. "You started working there a March 3rd."

You pick up Irwin's phone and type in the date.

It unlocks.

"He set the code for the day I - oh," you feel a sting in the corner of your eyes.

That must be one of the sweetest things Irwin’s ever done, and probably why he'd been adamant about you not knowing about it, unless his life literally depended on it. And he managed to pass it on to you without raising suspicion. That clever little trickster.

"He's very fond of you, isn't he?" Amren mutters, closing his laptop.

"Seems so," you laugh sadly. "And, thank you. How did you even -?"

"Security detail. Contains logs on all employees," he replies. "Part of the job is keeping tabs on everyone."

"Creepy.." Elise notes from the kitchen counter with a sly grin.

"You've got them too!" Amren hisses defensively.

"I don't use them!"

"You should!"

You tune out their bickering on correct methods of security-performance and focus on the now unlocked phone. You haven’t actually planned for what to do once you got in. Now that it’s happened, you find yourself at an impasse.

Is snooping allowed at this point? It feels so invasive. Irwin is notoriously online, his phone basically contains his entire personality. What if you find something private he doesn't want you to see?

And what exactly do you hope to gain from looking? As far as you know, Irwin was as random a target as you. Why should his phone hold any answers to why he was taken?

And more importantly, why should it hold answers of where he was taken to?

But if Mira deliberately dropped it for you to find, and that odd phone call.. the uncanny feeling you got that you had to keep it – Irwin’s subtle clue so you could unlock it - it's just tugging at your mind. It might be a false sense of hope, but you firmly hold on to it. These things can't be coincidental. There must be something.

Irwin will forgive you for this transgression, surely.

You runs your eyes over the screen.

He has a bunch of social media apps, a few cutesy phone games and a messaging app full of unread messages. He also has a dating app installed, with an equal amount of unread messages. Browsing through the missed calls, you see a lot from you, obviously, but also from his father, some people whose names you recognize as his other friends, and a person named Marcus. The most recent however are four missed calls and one accepted from an unknown caller, which you assume must all be from Mira.

"Anything of interest?" Elise asks, efficiently halting her argument with Amren.

"A bunch of missed calls from me, his dad, Mira and a Marcus. I don't know of any Marcus in Irwin's life. And then a whole heap of unread texts."

Amren leans over you shoulder to take a look at the phone. "Are there any texts from this Marcus? Maybe they can give us a clue," he suggests.

You scroll through the messaging app, and, sure enough, there are a couple of texts from him.

It's a back and forth on meeting times, and not much else. The last message from Irwin was just before the conference, informing Marcus Irwin will be gone for the conference from that day on, and Marcus replying with a thumbs up. The latest message from Marcus was from yesterday.

"You're back, right? When are you available?"

"This doesn't help us much.." Amren muses. "What are they meeting about?"

"I have a guess," Elise shrugs nonchalantly. "They're probably just hooking up."

You and Amren simultaneously look up to give her a weird look, which she waves off.

"Oh come on, no conversation points, no relationship development whatsoever, and we've all seen first hand that our hum friend cannot hold an inkling of alcohol to save his life, most likely not drugs either? What else would it be?"

What else indeed. It wouldn't be unheard off that Irwin would be blowing off some steam in his spare time and not tell you about it - it is, frankly, absolutely none of your business. Amren would be proud of you for thinking so.

"Well, that's his business. I don't really want to pry more if that's the case," you say, and consider for a moment. "But what if that's not the case? If there's any chance this Marcus fellow might know something, wouldn't it be better to cover all bases to figure this out? I mean, Irwin wouldn't shout his code at me if he didn't want me to find something here. And I don't really see anything else sticking out."

Amren hums in consideration. "While I'm hesitant to head into uncharted territory, that might actually be true," he says. "And he clearly isn't aware Irwin is missing. This might be an opportunity to get some answers."

You mull it over. "Let's say I meet with him. What do I even say? Hello, I'm the coworker of that guy you're frequently.. seeing?"

Elise snorts. "Good ice breaker! But maybe follow it up with a very good reason for why you're the one there instead of Irwin."

"They're not meeting with him alone," Amren comments firmly.

"'Course not, you big grump. We'll be waiting close by."

You look at both of them. "Thank you. Really, we didn't even know each other barely two weeks ago."

"And now we do. Get over it," Elise ruffles your hair.

You sit and discuss a plan for how to approach Marcus, and you do your best impersonation of Irwin when you write a reply to meet up this evening. Marcus replies with a thumbs up.

#colderwriting #monster romance #gender neutral reader #x reader #monster lover #naga #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #naga x reader #exophilia

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lavendermage · 3 years

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A Not-so-lonely Lantern Rite

Characters: Xiao (Romantic), Childe (?), Zhongli mentioned

Genre: Hurt/comfort, GN reader

TW: Sensory Issues, isolation, reader implied to be autistic

1.2k words

AN: There will be a part 2! I'm just slow.

Update: Part 2 is done! It's a fluffy one. Here is part 2

Liyue was bustling with people, even though it was still just early afternoon. It would just get worse later on. Venders called out to potential buyers at ear splitting volumes. All the lanterns would be very pretty if you could look at them one at a time, but the number of patterns and colors flooded your brain. You kept to your pre planned route, picking up some sparklers, lanterns, and food. Everything else was already packed in your bag.

Before you could escape completely, something fell on your shoulder. You startled.

“Woah there, comrade. You’re a bit jumpy today.”

The sound of Childe’s voice calmed you, but only slightly. His hand was still on your shoulder, the place where it touched your skin itching and burning. You moved it away as subtly as possible. He still noticed. Of course he would. A look of confusion and worry flicked over his face but you missed it.

“Just a bit excited for Lantern Rite.” You flashed a smile hoping it would pass as genuine. Of course it didn’t.

“You seem off. Otherwise it wouldn’t be that easy to sneak up on you.” He laughed as if it was a joke.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about.” It took you a second to realize how harsh you sounded. You didn’t have the energy to regulate your tone at this point. “I’m sorry, I’m tired. I need to leave now, I have stuff I need to do.” And you left, leaving a concerned Childe behind.

Childe was worried. You had never acted like this in front of him before. A breath caught in his throat. Did you know? He watched you leave, noticing how bluntly you rejected anyone trying to talk to you. So it’s not me. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or more worried.

What is going on with you? Zhongli would know. He went to find him.

You continued on your way. You had staked out a good place to watch the fireworks, far enough to avoid the sound and high enough to have a good view. It was quite a hike though, and you wanted to get there early to set up.

Thoughts ran in your head and you tried your best to ignore them. The increasing difficulty of the terrain managed to scare them away eventually. You could only focus on one thing at a time, and for the moment that one thing was not falling to your death.

By the time you had reached the spire, the sun was starting to set. You pulled some blankets out, folding one under you to protect against the chill of the stone. The rest were set aside for when it got colder. All that was left was to wait.

Those thoughts had come back though. You wonder what the others were doing. Zhongli was probably drinking tea while watching a pre-firework performance. Childe had told you about a party he was going to. You had made sure Qiqi was given time off and had gotten her a lantern. And you were here alone. You had no right to be moping. You had told them not to worry about you, to have fun, but still… Maybe Xiao would want to…

You laugh at your silly thought. Xiao was probably enjoying his time alone.

You felt an ache in your chest. No matter how much you wanted to, you knew you couldn’t stay down there. It would be too much and you’d have a meltdown. Still you felt so.. lonely. You fought the urge to cry. Screw it. No one would see anyway. You wrapped a blanket around you tight enough to feel a slight pressure and tucked your head in your arms. You cried. It felt so much like those parties you had to leave when you were little.

The wind pulled a few strands of your hair and a presence appeared behind you.

“Oh, Xiao.” You lifted your head but didn’t turn towards him.

“Why are you here?” He was as blunt as ever. He tried to walk around to look at your face but you turned away.

“It’s quieter up here.” It’s such an understatement it feels like a lie. “I like the fresh air.” You tacked on hoping to make it more believable.

“You don’t have to lie for me.” He sat down next to you.

You looked at him surprised. “I thought you’d prefer to be alone somewhere.”

His heart broke when he saw your tear stained eyes. “And I expected you to be with everyone else.”

You winced, even though you knew he didn’t mean it in a mean way. “I would like to, but I can’t. It’s too loud. Makes me panic.”

He waited a moment after you’d finished, thinking. “What did you do last year?”

“I tried to stay, see the fireworks with everyone. Thought I could handle it.” You pause and laugh dryly. “I couldn’t. My brain shut down and Zhongli had to evacuate me.”

The two of you sat there in silence for a bit. He put his arm over your back, surprising you. Just as quickly he pulled it back. “Sorry.”

You guided his hand over your shoulder. “It’s alright. Just didn’t expect it. So, can you stay?”

“There hasn’t been any demonic activity today.”

You nodded. “I have some food, do you want some?”

“I don’t need to eat. You know this.”

“Do you want to though?” You lean over to pull something out of your bag. “I brought almond tofu!”

“I didn’t know you liked it too.”

“This is actually the first time I’ll be eating it. I was wondering why you liked it so much, so I wanted to try it.” You smiled. “We can share it!”

He looked away from your face to hide his blushing cheeks. You didn’t notice as you took a bite of the tofu.

You tapped your feet happily. “It’s good. You take a bite.”

He turned to you, as you stuck a piece towards his face. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Eat it fast! It’s slipping!” The panic in your voice pushed him to take it. He chewed it slowly.

“Is it good?” You ask, giving him a questioning thumbs up.

He copied you then swallowed it quickly. “The texture’s nice.”

“Yay!” You grinned. You pulled out all the food containers and opened them. “Take whatever you want.” You were so much more animated than before. You pulled out a timepiece. “The fireworks will start soon.”

And they did. Fireworks bloomed into flowers, hearts, and stars. Some of them split off into multiple smaller explosions, and others continued to sparkle like tinsel as they fell back to earth. Last time you watched them you didn’t have the chance to admire them, but now you could. You turned to Xiao to see his expression, only to find him staring at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You joked, laughing.

“No. It’s just – never mind.” He turned away. He was grateful for the darkness that hid his red face.

You looked back at the fireworks. “Thank you, Xiao. For being here with me. It…it means alot.”

He wanted to say a lot. He wanted to say that he was always there for you, that you need only call his name. He said nothing though, electing to just sit by you. Your company was calming, comforting. He glanced at you often, the lights and colors of the fireworks reflecting on your face beautifully.

#xiao x y/n #xiao x reader #autistic!reader #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin childe #genshin xiao #sensory overload #g/n reader #genshin zhongli

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under-sedationnn · 3 years

Text

the arcana: main six reacting to injured! reader

anonymous: Could u do m6 reacting to mc coming home injured? I want some hurt/comfort >:))

Warnings: talk of being injured, blood. if that bothers you or tiggers you in anyway, please scroll away! i want this to be a safe place, only :)

thanks for the request anon!! i hope you enjoy!! <3 requests for the kissing prompts and physical affection prompts are STILL OPEN. please send them in with the character of your choice (which could be any character from any series i write for) and i will create an imagine!! thanks and happy reading!!

- tries his very very best to stay calm

- you can see panic bubbling under the surface

- faust is on high alert

- slithers around your shoulders and squeezes you for a hug

- "friend! hurt!"

- doesn't immediately ask what happened, just gets you to a comfortable place to be cleaned up

- then, and only then, will he brave to ask what happened to you

- or who did this to you

- wipes the blood from your skin with very gentle swipes

- winces when you wince, and apologizes profoundly

- "Y/n, how did this happen? i thought you were just taking a quick trip to the market."

- "i fell in the market, tripped over a stone"

- "and nobody helped you?"

- in this case he's disappointed with the bystanders, but does not become angry

- in a situation where someone hurt you?

- oh god

- "Y/n, how did this happen? i thought you were just taking a quick trip to the market."

- "yeah, well, somebody had their eye on the same apple i picked up. somehow, though, they managed to push me to the ground and steal it from my hands."

- i don't even think he would know what to say

- and asra is not really the type to march out into the streets of vesuvia and seek to challenge the one who hurt you

- but he would certainly hold a grudge against whoever it was if he did find out

- and would feel absolutely awful about letting you get hurt

- his mind would race about the possibility of losing you again

- because he simply can't handle it

- and what if that person had been particularly violent or malicious? what if you had been taken??

- you'd have to comfort the hell out of him to make sure he knows that you're okay

- "asra, hey, i'm fine! i can handle myself, you know that"

- "you're right, and i know you're right. it's just hard"

- "it's still hard for me, too. the market still makes me a little nervous and i got caught a little off guard, is all"

- that would make him feel better

- would finish patching up your wounds and would make sure to bring you to julian the next day if they were too bad for him to fix or needed stitches

- would also create a special brew to help with the pain and ease you to sleep

- "why don't i go down to the market tomorrow?"

- "why? so when you pick a fight over apples, i can pay you back for all of this high quality medical treatment?"

- "well of course, surely you didn't expect all this tender love and care to be free" *wink*

- panicked doctor mode enabled

- immediately begins checking you over, asking questions

- something tells me it would be a head injury of some sort

- "oh darling, what happe- you're bleeding!"

- "julian, i'm okay! it's just a little scratch"

- "no no no you might need stitches, come sit down. i'll go get my kit!"

- there's really no use in arguing

- he has cold ass hands, so he tries to warm them up before he begins suturing the wound

- tries to be gentle, and his expert hands move quickly without any snagging

- "so, how did this happen?"

- his voice is literally trembling

- "well, i was in the clinic grabbing the list of ingredients we need for our next grocery trip and there was a puddle of... something on the floor. i slipped and hit my head on the corner of your desk"

- immediately thinks it's his fault

- like "oh shit i should have cleaned better that could have killed y/n and then what would i have done-"

- doesn't necessarily voice this, but you can tell by the silence that follows that he's feeling really guilty

- would kneel for you, head on your knees

- "y/n, i am so sorry"

- "juli, it's really okay, i should have watched where i was going"

- "i'll make sure to clean better from now on, okay?"

- would guard you throughout the night in case of concussion

- nurse juli <3

- but let's say someone had put their hands on you

- would patch you up the same way, and apologize profusely for not being there with you

- tuck you into bed and fetch mazelinka to keep an eye on you throughout the night incase of a concussion

- would most definitely be self destructive and seek that mf out

- maybe not successfully, but would try his hardest

- "i'll be back in the morning, get some rest"

- "I can find them myself if I want to, you know"

- embarrassed blush

- because he KNOWS you can take care of yourself

- "of course, but right now you're hurt. as your partner, i will do what must be done on your behalf darling"

- probably shows up the following morning with battle scars of his own

- the guards found you in the garden, passed out in the maze

- blood trickled down your arm, a large gash marking your bicep

- ran you up to the palace and immediately to the medical wing

- them]n nadia gets word

- the calm, collected queen act disappears

- abandons anything she's doing, anybody she's talking to

- "we will finish this at a different time, i have more important matters to attend to"

- she is so worried and it's honestly adorable

- very much giving "where tf are they?" energy

- god i love her so much

- anyways um

- asks the nurses over and over what happened, if you're okay, etc.

- watches the physicians and nurses like a hawk as they clean the wound and suture the cut

- and they're so intimidated lmao they never come face to face with her literally ever

- brushes your hair back from your face as they do so

- holds your hands

- would demand that you be brought to her sleeping chamber

- so that's where you wake up! how cute

- she's laying beside you, her brows furrowed

- maybe even her eyes are a little hazy

- "y/n, sweetheart, do you remember what happened?"

- patiently waits for your answer, you're still a little groggy

- you were either attacked by an animal and passed out from the fright

- or you were attacked by an armed person and was knocked out

- either way, the guards are on it

- nadia isn't letting whoever or whatever did this get away without a fight

- the palace is meant to be a safe haven for you

- for the both of you

- "well, don't you worry, we'll take care of that"

- you try to sit up but she won't let you

- "oh no, you must stay down, y/n. you are possibly concussed from the fall"

- "oh okay, sorry"

- "is there anything i can get you?"

- the countess of vesuvia, serving you in your time of need

- "just some water would be nice"

- "of course, i'll have some brought up right away"

- i literally feel like he would just start crying straight up

- cause like he has some problems anyway

- he big sad boi

- and you coming home to the hut bleeding from a gash in the arch of your foot is not helping

- picks you and carries you to the bed without a word

- just starts examining the cut

- inanna is also very concerned

- she licks the blood from the cut, she's trying to be helpful

- meanwhile muriel is stumbling around the hut looking for anything to stop the bleeding, disinfect it, bandage it, anything

- but he's not the best about keeping that stuff in stock

- keeps looking back at you with worry in his eyes

- he doesn't know what to do

- "muriel, let me see if i can contact asra. maybe he or julian can bring me a salve. i'm pretty sure i'm gonna need stitches"

- low-key makes him feel worse

- cause he feels like he's unable to care for you and keep your safe

- even tho this was just an accident

- he's breathing really fast, his anxiety creeping

- agrees anyway, but goes to get them himself

- "i'll be back soon, just keep this piece of cloth pressed against it"

- cause you're bleeding like a lot

- inanna stays behind

- he returns very quickly with julian in tow, though he doesn't look happy about it

- leaves the hut without another word

- julian gets to work immediately

- "so, you cut your foot i see"

- smartass.

- "yeah, muriel always tells me to put on shoes when i walk in the woods but i love to feel the grass beneath my feet"

- julian chuckled at this

- "and i'm assuming you, what, stepped on a rock?"

- "...yeah, sliced it right open"

- after julian is done cleaning up the cut, he tells you to just stay off of it for a while and make sure it doesn't get infected

- once he's gone, muriel trudges back into the hut

- "muriel, baby, it was just a cut it's not a big deal"

- but his eyes look hurt, and you beckon him toward the bed

- "hey," your hands on his cheeks, "i'm okay, really"

- "sorry, i just got scared. blood is still a trigger for me and since you got hurt in my woods, i felt like it was my fault"

- "muriel, of course it wasn't your fault"

- he really needed a hug

- after this instance, he made sure to keep medical supplies in the hut and you promised to try and wear shoes in the woods more often than not

- "i'll try my best to be more careful. deal?"

- sweet lil smile

- "deal."

- "oh my god, y/n, what the hell happened??"

- you were tending the garden

- without her supervision

- and the garden sheers might have sliced into the palm of your hand

- deep

- brings you over to the sink and runs water over the cut, covering it with a towel when the dripping blood had been washed away

- girl is on the move

- cause she knows what to do! love that

- low-key a main reason why julian managed to live as long as he has

- pepi is curiously perched atop one of the counters, peering down

- finds her personal first aid kit she had stashed in the bathroom

- guides you over to sit on the counter while she tries to figure out what to do

- "damn, you really cut yourself, y/n"

- "sorry! i think i just got a little carried away"

- she giggles at that, though she is still worried about the fact that it won't stop bleeding

- gently wraps the cut in gauze and adheres it together

- places a kiss to your fingertips

- "all done! no more gardening for you!"

- "hey, why not?"

- "well you don't want that cut to open back up again and again, do you?"

- "no"

- "alright then," she smiled, moving to put away the first aid kit again, "and we're going up to the palace medical wing first thing tomorrow morning to make sure it's not infected"

- eye roll

- "yes ma'am" you mocked

- even though you know it's just because she loves you

- "but since you got hurt, you want me to bake you some cookies?"

- "only if you let me eat the dough!"

- good god do i love this man

- but he is so self-absorbed it's actually insane

- and I feel like he wouldn't even notice at first

- cause he's too focused on himself

- gazing into the mirror without a care in the world when you walked in

- "y/n, thank goodness you're home, how do you feel about these pants?"

- you just hobbled to the nearest seat, hand resting over the gash on your knee

- mercedes and melchior were lazing across a rug at the base of his mirror, their attention set on you

- "u-um, yeah, they look good"

- literally just trying not to bleed out, over here

- "good? oh really, now, y/n don't they look amazing?"

- "yes, they look ama- ow, damnit"

- then he turned around

- immediate shock and worry! oh no oh no y/n is hurt!

- mercedes and melchior walked over first, whining as they took in the cut, brushing around the edges

- lucio raced over, squatting down in front of you, and began examining the cut

- "hey, hey, what happened?"

- "i accidentally tripped on my walk in the garden and scraped my knee on the cobblestone"

- he was lightly touching around the cut, gauging how sensitive it was

- when you flinched he stopped, looking into your eyes with a soft "sorry"

- "i think i need to go to the palace infirmary"

- "oh there's no need, i can take care of you!"

- you were not convinced he could take care of you, at least not well

- "uh, lucio, are you sure?"

- he looked slightly offended, at that

- "you know, y/n, i did fight in battles at one point. i have not only tended to my own wounds, but the wounds of others, as well"

- you giggled at the thought

- "much to your protest, though, i'm sure"

- he moved to the small cabinet of medical supplies in the ensuite to your bedroom, returning to your side with it in hand

- "at points, but i don't mind helping you in the slightest"

- for all of his antics, his soft side was enough to make you fall in love all over again

- and although i know he would take care of you in literally any situation, i can't say for certainty that he would stick around and place nurse lucio for long if a person had hurt you

- attacked you

- much like nadia, the guards would be sent out without a second thought, lucio leading the pack in the search for you aggressor

#the arcana nadia #the arcana julian #the arcana #the arcana imagines #the arcana headcanons #the arcane game #the arcana lucio #nadia the arcana #the arcana asra #asra the arcana #lucio montag #count lucio #lucio #portia devorak #portia headcanons #muriel the mountain man #muriel x mc #the arcana muriel #muriel

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shepherds-of-haven · 2 years

Note

Could you tell us about Junoth? What was he like? How did he die in the books? Do you think he exists somewhere in this Shepherds universe to join post-canon or something?

Aw, I miss Junoth! He was kind of like the baby of the group, even though I think Riel was technically the youngest: he was a bit naive, boisterous, had boundless puppy energy, and always had dreams of becoming a great hero or do-gooder in the world. He was always eager to help others and was adamant about doing the right thing and didn't have a ruthless bone in his body, which was why he never rose high in the ranks of the Khehi Ket or the Shepherds, but everybody loved him for it, anyway. He and Blade attended school together in Ygrath and went through their equivalent of like basic training or boot camp together, so they were childhood friends and grew up together (and got closer after Arainia, the novel's protagonist, had been sent away to Mage school, where they weren't able to follow her). Although their personalities didn't seem all that compatible on the surface, Blade felt obligated to watch Junoth's back because he knew his good heart and impulsivity were going to get him into trouble, and Junoth would have followed Blade or Arainia to the ends of the world and really looked up to both of them, but especially Blade, who everyone viewed as kind of the class prodigy and an ideal Ket son! There was never any jealousy or rivalry involved, though; Junoth was just happy to be included, if that makes any sense. Once he ended up joining the Shepherds (after Blade and Arainia decided to join, and after realizing he didn't really have a future with the Khehi Ket), he was kind of like everyone's hyper, happy, sometimes annoying younger brother. He could be a bit oblivious or slow on the uptake (he wasn't a tactical thinker...) but he made up for it in sheer goodheartedness and determination. You could never tell him something wasn't possible or something couldn't be done, especially when he got it into his head that it was the right thing to do. He would be like "but why can't we build a wall to save that village from being flooded?" "we don't have time, we need to move on to hold off that army before it arrives" "but why can't we do both??" Real shounen protagonist energy. Although quite wiry and shorter than many of the other team members, often teased as being "scrawny" (his fast metabolism and arma often burned up food before it could be turned into muscle), he was the team's physical tank thanks to his obscenely strong arma and could be sent in to bowl over enemies and break up entire mobs or serve as a loud distraction; he was really poor at stealth, but really physically strong! He favored really large weapons, particularly claymores, battle-axes, morning stars, and mauls.

He was always getting into people's stuff, just like a little brother, and people were always reprimanding him while he just cheerfully ignored it, so you could always hear people groaning around the office, like, "Junoth, I told you not to borrow my pens!" or "Junoth, would you shut up, we're trying to have a mission briefing!" and he'd be like "Sorry~" and then just do it all over again the next day. He wasn't deliberately an agent of chaos or a prankster like Chase, he was just kind of like a gamboling puppy who gets into everything and knocks over your trash cans or barks at the mailman without actually meaning to upset you. He was in love with his childhood sweetheart, Anneth, a Ket girl from a very high-born and noble family back in Chicora, who returned his feelings but wasn't strong-willed enough to defy her family. Everybody told him that a marriage between them was impossible, since Anneth was betrothed to someone more befitting of her situation, but Junoth swore that one day he would marry her. Sadly, that dream never came to fruition, as he was killed in battle during the... I'm pretty sure it was Book I of the Storm of the Worlds, The Thunder March, right at the end. The novel protagonist Arainia sees Junoth get shot and is scrambling through the battlefield to get to him (to heal him), when she's suddenly captured by enemy soldiers and hauled away screaming. I think those are the last pages of the novel before it cuts to Book II, when she's been held hostage by the enemy for several months and is planning her escape! She doesn't find out for sure until she makes it back to Trouble, Chase, and Red's squad and asks if Junoth's all right, and they have to break the news to her that he died... and that Blade died after being separated from the team in the same battle! :( It's a very hard opening to get through... And Blade also didn't really die, which makes things super awkward when he shows up again in Book... III? Or the end of Book II!

[Mild spoilers for Justice League and Justice League Unlimited: I saw the Justice League animated show after Junoth died in the novels, but I always thought he was a lot like The Flash (Wally West) in the Justice League, where he kind of unconsciously represented the "good one" or the innocence or moral compass of the group, and when he was killed, it left everyone feeling lost, and everything kind of went to hell for a while.]

I do think he exists in some form in the game universe! He could either be a childhood friend and comrade-in-arms to Blade and is still in the Ket Rebellion, or you can interpret a version of him existing in one of Blade's stories on Patreon, where a character named Junoth features prominently, and there's room for him to potentially show up in some post-game future again! I haven't definitively decided yet, though! Thanks for your question!

#Shepherds of Haven #Junoth Leoki #Junoth #novels #original novels #novel #original novel

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic.

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane."

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears.

"bitch," you mutter under your breath.

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again.

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?"

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway.

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?"

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him.

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath.

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement.

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year.

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her.

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living.

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing."

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done.

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way.

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement.

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears.

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend.

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word.

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel.

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode.

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information.

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics.

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve.

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too.

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?"

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind.

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head.

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest.

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!"

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys.

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history."

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said.

"do you really want to know why?"

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart.

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss.

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone.

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment.

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day.

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor.

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down.

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud.

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand.

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't…

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper.

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused.

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going.

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back.

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video.

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers.

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples.

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration.

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin.

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day.

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder.

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp.

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time.

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside.

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home.

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off.

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung.

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him.

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with.

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it... but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you.

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob.

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face.

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

#hmu if i missed a warning #yandere doyoung #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere nct 127 #tw swearing #tw manipulation #tw violence #tw knife

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 4 years

Text

I’m On Fire [Chapter 2]

With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

Chapter Summary: Y/N and Spencer start to put a plan together.

A/N: I’ve got a head cold at the mo’ but I had to get a covid test just in case so I’m not allowed leave my room till I get the results! So enjoy a bonus chapter while I wallow on my own for like 36 hours :( On a positive note, thank you guys all so much for the response to chapter 1 I really didn’t see that coming! I’ve tagged everyone who asked, let me know if you wanna be added

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: Cursing, some NSFW language/themes

Word Count: 6.1k

Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

"Are you coming up or what?"

The question was still ringing in my ears. It caught me completely off guard. 'Up' as in up to Spencer's apartment? Where he lived? I knew he lived somewhere in theory, just like I knew deep down that he wasn't made in a test tube.

Without noticing I've undone my seatbelt and I'm hopping out of the car, following him around to the front door. I guess I am coming up.

Spencer's apartment is more cosy than I thought it was going to be. It's warm and lived in. It's not big, but I think that might be what makes it homely. Something about the way he behaves had me thinking it would be fully decked out in stainless steel or glass or something. But it wasn't pristine, it was messy.

There were books bursting from the shelves that lined the walls of the apartment, along with books laid open over nearly every surface in the place, it looked like he was in the middle of reading all of them, and honestly, I didn't doubt it. Maybe I'd misjudged him. He even had some photos of what looked like his family, and maybe friends, even some of the BAU, lining his walls or propped up on his mantle. He had little trinkets and souvenirs on his shelves too, evidence that he'd been around the country for reasons other than a case. I would never admit it to him but there was a real charm to the place.

Once we got inside he took off his bag and suit jacket, tossing them on the desk just inside of the door. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, and he seemed to pick up on my awkward energy.

"You can make yourself at home" he said, his confident streak remaining. I had no idea what to do with that. What would even make me comfortable in Spencer Reid's apartment? I took a seat on his sofa and just sat with my hands resting in my lap. Really not even sure where I should look without feeling like I was invading his privacy. Even though I wanted to. I think it was morbid curiosity, looking for clues on who this man might actually be outside of the BAU. What I really wanted to do was stand up and walk around, soaking in every bit if this place as if it would help me decipher our messy relationship.

He returned to the living room a few moments later, two mismatched mugs in his hands. He places one in front of me on the coffee table. I pick it up and take a sip. It's lemon and ginger, how did he know what kind of tea I liked? I held the mug in my hands inhaling the steam in an effort to relax. When I look up he's watching me, arms folded across his chest.

"So, how does this thing work. What's the game plan?" I honestly have no real idea. This evening really got away from me, I was still expecting to snap out of it and wake up in my bed at any moment.

"Well I can't say I've ever been in a Sandra Bullock movie before either so this is uncharted territory for me too" I say with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. Even a little. I can see him crack a small smile but hides it almost instantly, his face hardening again.

"My sister, Margot, she's getting married in like 4 months." I can feel myself tense and I shake out my shoulders, I have to remind myself that he's agreed to this already, "Fuck it, I'm just going to be honest with you. My Mom's mostly freaked out that I'm too attached to this job and that I'll just never find someone again." I shouldn't have said again, fuck. I hope he didn't pick up on that. Who am I kidding. "Even though, I'm not sure I care if I do or don't?" he doesn't say anything, like he's waiting for me to continue. I know I've shared a little too much already but I keep going.

"Margot's 2 years younger than me, I introduced her to her fiancé Philip, we met in college, he's a sweetheart. But since they've gotten engaged Mom's gotten exponentially weirder. I think she's convinced I'm fully going to die alone, as if that would be the worst thing that could ever happen? Anyway, she's been trying to auction me off to all these guys, using this wedding as an excuse. I'm not sure how much of that phone call you actually heard earlier but Mom was trying to sell me on this guy, David, and I just… snapped." I look up at Spencer and he unfolds his arms, leaning in ever so slightly coaxing the story out of me.

"David, he uh, he worked for my father for a while back in high school, filing documents and stuff, busy work mostly. He used to make out with me when he was at our house after school, but then he'd ignore me in the halls the next morning. I know it's because I was a pariah back then or something but I didn't want to think about it today and I just got worked up. I shouldn't have let on that you were my date, I was just going to ask if I could bring Garcia or something, and I'm sorry." I cover my face in my hands, "I'm insane, you can back out if you want to."

I can hear him move from his spot on the opposite side of the sofa, he takes my wrists and gently pulls my hands from my face. He looks into my eyes, "I'm in this now Y/N, what do you need me to do?" he asks, and there's a genuine earnest in his voice that I think I've only ever heard a handful of times. And it's never been directed at me.

"Okay, well we've got a few months before you ha–, wait, fuck!" I throw my head back, there's already a complication, "shit" I curse under my breath. His eyebrows knit together, sitting upright.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"I forgot about my Mom's 50th, it's next month. They've got this whole huge party planned back home in upstate New York. I've gotta go and they'll probably want to meet you, or they're gonna have a load of questions for me at least. I can try and get you out of it I'm sure"

He gets that cocky look again, he shakes his head "I don't know, I've always liked a bit of competition" he reclines back into his corner of the sofa, taking a satisfied sip from his own mug before speaking again. "You know, if I've got to learn enough to pass as your boyfriend in a month, surely that means you've got to learn enough to pass as my girlfriend within the month, no?"

Oh god. What have I done, why didn't I think this far ahead. "I mean, yeah I guess you're right." I had to remember he was doing me a favor. I had to get over myself. "Okay, if you're sure you're up for that?" I ask, and he nods, and I think he looks excited, or maybe he just finds the whole situation funny.

"If anyone's up for the competition it's you" he says, and I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a dig but I nod in agreement.

He takes another sip of his tea, collected and relaxed. I can't help but notice how at ease he is when he's in his own surroundings. I'm so used to seeing him sitting at a desk surrounded by paperwork, or combing through file after file in the make-shift office in a small-town police station, usually flustered or anxious, or antagonizing me whenever he wasn’t. This was a different Spencer. Completely in control, at ease.

"Alright, shall we get started then, we can't really afford to waste any time can we?" he was actually sort of right, so I nodded. It was only now occurring to me that I'd have to share parts of my personal life with him if I wanted this plan to work. We already knew the basics about each other, I'd read his file when I started at the BAU, I'd read everyones. And I feel like it was safe to presume he'd done the same.

His eyes bore directly into mine as he leaned forward, I think he was enjoying how uncomfortable I must've looked.

"How about I ask you some rapid-fire questions and you have to answer 'em?" he asks, and it's as good of a plan as any, and I can't think of any other suggestions, so I nod.

"Okay, shoot." I say, unsure and nervous, so I brace myself. I'm just grateful that he's making my life easier rather than harder for what feels like the first time since I met him.

I really should've known better.

He leans in, "So Y/N, first question, when did you lose your virginity?"

I almost choke on the mouthful of tea I just took, that can't be what he just asked, and he looks like he's savoring my shocked expression.

"I uh, I don't think you need to know that?" is all I can get out.

"Really? You think that's something your boyfriend wouldn't know about you?" he's right, but I didn't want to admit it outright.

"I feel like I sort of already hinted. It was that same guy David, I was 18, he was 19. We had sex on the couch while my parents went out one evening. I kept my bra on the whole time, he came, I didn't. It was all very standard stuff." I wasn't sure what compelled me to add that last part. I think I was giving in to the open honestly thing. "So what about you Doc?" I challenged.

He didn't seem embarrassed, or even shy. "I must've bloomed little later than you" he admits with a soft chuckle, "Vivian Stewart, I was 21, she was too. It was the last semester of my last PhD and I figured I must be missing out on something. And I sure was" he smirks to himself. "I came, she did too, 3 times. I did a lot of research ahead of time" he mirrored my story and I rolled my eyes. It was hard not to feel a little impressed but I tried with everything I had to stifle it so he couldn't tell. I wish it didn't make me feel something but it did. I gulp down the mouthful of tea that's been sitting in my throat.

I have to shake myself back to reality. I can't give him the satisfaction of throwing me. "My turn." I command, "When was your last relationship Dr. Reid?" I ask, "I mean like, serious one, not like hook-up" I clarify before he can ask. He thinks on it for a moment.

"I'm not sure what you classify as fully serious, but I guess it was this girl, Rebecca, we dated for a while when I first joined the BAU but it didn't work out. What about you?" he flips it back.

"So that was what, like 6-ish years ago?" I ask, he just nods.

"Mine was like 3 years ago now I think. I met this guy Nathan on my first week of college, we dated for like 4 years. He moved here for me when I got accepted by the BAU." I had to stop myself from delving into the detail. It was a long time ago now but it still hurt. "Long story short, the hours were demanding and they got in the way more than I would've liked. We ended up splitting a couple months after I got the job." I tried to play it off like it wasn't one of the more devastating things to happen in my life. But something told me he’d registered that, so he didn't push.

His energy picks up and he looks at me with a grin, but there's something a little sinister behind it. "I've got a more fun question for you." he leans in closer to me, "Y/N, when was the last time you got laid?" I just looked at him in shock.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I can go first if you really need me to?" his voice didn't waver,

"Fuck you Reid, I know when it was!" I snapped back at him. I did have to think back a little farther than I'd like to pull up the memory.

"Met this guy in a bar when I was out with Pen one night, we went back to his place and hooked up." I say as deadpan as I can make it.

"Well that's not very exciting is it?" he jokes, "Did you at least cum that time?" I know he's just trying to rile me up, but I answer anyway.

"As a matter of fact I did" I earn back a little of my confidence.

"I'm so happy for you, but you did manage to avoid my initial question" fuck "when was this exciting night of yours Y/N?" he probes, like I really, really wished he wouldn't. I could lie, but I'm sure he'd be able to tell. I cringe before I can say it.

"About 8 months ago" I mutter, just low enough for him to hear.

"Sorry, did you just say 8 months ago?" He nearly shouts in disbelief, he seems to find it funny.

"Hey fuck you Spencer!" I go on the defensive, "When was the last time you even got laid?"

"Like two and half weeks ago" he says, confident, and still laughing, "Wait wait, when was the last time you got yourself off? I know you're not waiting 8 months!" he giggles and I think I could kill him. I know I kept giving him outs but was it too late for me to just get up and leave?

"I'm not doing this with you if you're just gonna make fun of me Reid, I get enough of that at work" I get out, my voice is serious but I'm trying to hide how awkward all of this is making me feel, and I don't know that I'm doing a very good job.

I can tell that's gotten to him, he relaxes and eases up on the giggling. "Look okay wait Y/N. I'll stop, I'm not actually trying to make fun of you. I was being serious, I think stuff like this is important if we're gonna have to be comfortable around each other enough to seem like a real couple. Plus, it'll just help break the ice?" he shrugs. "But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

I soften, because I agree, even thought I hate that he's right. "Fine" I collect my thoughts, "2 nights ago I'm pretty sure." I regret it almost instantly, but breaking the ice is supposed to feel awkward.

"Same here actually," he chuckles, "what'd you do?" I'm so startled by the question I almost forget how to answer.

"I, uh, my, my vibrator? I just felt like uh, I watched some..." I still can't force out a whole sentence. It's not like I was always awkward about sex or anything, I could talk to Garcia, or honestly probably any of the other team members about it. But with Spencer it didn't feel as comfortable. He still sat calmly, smiling just a little.

"Same here, 2 nights back, but with my hands I guess. I wonder if we were doing it at the same time?" he mutters the last part gently and my head goes a bit fuzzy. My eyes drift away from his face and settle on his hands, the mug he's holding looks so tiny with his fingers wrapped around it, I wondered how they'd look wrapped around my-

"Okay I think that's enough for one night, don't you think?" I jump up off the sofa and turn, mostly so that he doesn't catch the blush thats creeping from my neck up to my cheeks. And because I don't know what I'll say, or regret saying, if this conversations continues on its current trajectory.

"Sure," he says, standing up next to me, and I want to move further away instantly, "you're probably right, and it's getting a little late now anyway" he glances at his watch. Ushering me back towards his front door and opening it up. Before I can walk out he lightly touches my shoulder to turn me back to face him, and I wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from every part of me.

"So are you free next Friday after work?" he asks, and I'm so flustered I almost forget why, I just nod. "Perfect, how about we come here again and we can dive into preparing? You could also make a start on getting these onto a hard drive?" he gestures to the antique looking hardbacks adorning the shelves.

'Sounds great!" I perk up, feigning enthusiasm, "See you then!"

"Well, see you Monday morning actually Y/N" he smirks as I walk out the door. Fuck, he was right.

I really hadn't thought this through.

——

The weekend was a bit of a blur. I decided to try and put some useful information into a document for Spencer. It felt strange to try and condense my life into as few pages as possible. I knew Reid had an eidetic memory, and nothing would necessarily overwhelm him. But I also knew that he was someone that the team relied on to fill in a lot of the gaps in the rest of the our knowledge. So I felt bad about dumping a load of information on him, especially considering it was a favor he was doing for me.

I'd complied the majority of my life into a 15 page document and printed it out. Hopefully that would address most of what my family could guerrilla attack him with. There was also something unsettling about the imbalance. I was going to give him so many of the intricate details of my life in a little file, whereas all I really knew about Spencer was what I'd taken it upon myself to learn about him throughout the past few years.

I'd read all of his work while I was in college, given how he was the gold standard of getting into the BAU at a young age, I wanted to know who this guy was. I think I'd pictured something different. And I couldn't deny there was something enticing about finally getting to know him after all of these years of working together. Maybe this could actually be fun, or interesting at least.

----

I arrived early on Monday morning. I thought I was first into the office as usual but Garcia was sitting in my desk chair waiting for me. The second she saw me walk in she tensed, she must've known we were the only people in this early.

"What happened! You've been avoiding me all weekend?" she asked, and she was right. I'd drafted enough texts to her, trying to explain what the plan was, mostly without wanting to admit that she was right. Maybe I was stubborn.

"Alright okay, I drove Reid home." I admitted, dropping my bag by my desk. She rolls her eyes at me, dramatic as always.

"Well I knew that already Y/N damn! What happened next?"

"Fine, we went into his apartment and talked for a while. Trying to sort out the details, get a handle on things I guess?" I said, unsure of how much I should actually give away about our conversation.

"What things!?" She shouts, standing up from my desk,

"I don't know Pen, like logistics and stuff, I still haven't decided how I feel about that little stunt you pulled on Friday night!" I let my frustration get the better of me, and maybe that's why I haven't talked to her. It could also be because I know she's able to read me like a book and I'm not even sure how I feel about this whole situation.

"I call bullshit." She counters, "I know you were relived as hell when I sorted that whole thing out. You would've had anxiety tummy all weekend if I hadn't called Spencer!" I just go silent, she was right. I'd gotten so caught up in the whole, 'how to have a fake boyfriend' that I'd almost forgotten about how stressed I was about Spencer hearing my call in the first place.

"Okay, shit" I sigh. "Maybe you were right Pen. We're actually meeting up again this Friday after work to make a plan for the next while, so I guess that's progress?" I shrug, trying to play it off like this whole situation doesn't make my stomach flip.

"Ohhhhh! So like a date?" She probes, her enthusiasm rising drastically.

"Oh my God Pen no! Like an appointment at best" I diffuse the situation

"Ugh that's no fun" she says, not even trying to disguise her disappointment.

As if on cue Dr. Reid walks through the double doors into the bullpen. Both Garcia and I wave, overall awkwardly, but making an attempt pretend like things were completely normal and like nothing had changed since the last time we were all in the office together.

Penelope heads to her office as the bullpen starts to fill up quickly. Less than an hour later though Garcia's back at my desk and there's a new case that needs the teams attention in Boston. I follow her into the conference room and wait for the rest of the team to join. Spencer follows a moment later with 2 cups of coffee in his hands. I can see my mug in his hand and my automatic response is that he's messing with me. But he places my mug in front of me in the circular table before taking the seat next to me, listening to Garcia's briefing. I don't know if he's ever sat next to me in this conference room, at least not by choice.

I barely had any time to finish my coffee before I have to say goodbye to Garcia and hop on the jet to Boston.

----

The case was grueling. More so than usual. It was wrapped up late on Thursday night and the team decided to fly back home first thing on Friday morning. I was exhausted. Even if there was enough time to get sleep each night it wasn't like I got any. Whenever a case got on top of me like this it made it hard to rest, or get it off my mind at all until it was wrapped up. So even though it was over, that didn't mean I wasn't exhausted.

Hotch gave the team the rest of the day off, given that we have until submit our paperwork by Monday. I wasn't sure if Spencer's invitation from the following week still stood. I didn't want to ask, partly because I was so tired, but also because I was scared. I wasn't about to show up at his house in an effort to have a heart to heart, or hand him a condensed version of my life story on a manilla envelope if he was as drained as I was.

Standing by my desk I packed up everything I'd need to get my paperwork done over the weekend, I was just about finished when Spencer snuck up behind me, perching himself on the edge of my desk. "So, you almost ready to go?" he asks, like it's the most obvious question in the world. I couldn't really hide my surprise.

"Oh yeah. That's fine, I mean, if you're still cool with that?" I ask, and I hate how flustered I sound, like he makes me nervous.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" He chuckles, standing up straight.

"Cool, gimme a sec and I'll be good to go."

I pack up the rest of my stuff quickly and we make our way out. There's something that feels a little eerie about the two of us being in an elevator together alone again. It was a different kind of awkward to how it felt a week before hand. It almost felt like a kind of tension rather than a hatred or a rivalry. Either way we rode down in silence.

Once we got to the basement Spencer walks out of the elevator and walks straight to my car without having to ask. I unlock it and he hops into the passenger seat. Like this is a natural interaction. Something we do all the time. And I don't hate it as much as I thought I would.

"So," he says, buckling up his seat belt and breaking the silence, "do you know how to get to my place from here or do you need directions again?"

"Well I've got to turn on the engine first" I tease, hoping he picks up on the reference to our last car ride, he chuckles like he does.

"Are you hungry?" he asks

"Starving."

The delivery guy get's to Spencer's apartment at almost the same time we do.

---

Once the food's been demolished the two of us finally sit on his sofa, the same sides as the week before. "So, shall we get back into this?" He asks, sitting forward slightly to pull a notebook out of his satchel on the floor. It's small and lavender, and it's got a pen clipped into the spine. He cracks it open and flips to a specific page.

"Sorry, what's that?" I ask, pointing to the book, he looks confused,

"They're my notes?" he says, like it should be obvious

"Your notes?" I ask,

"My notes on you." he smirks, again like I'm silly for even asking.

He had notes on me? He had a whole notebook on me? What was even in that thing?

"You've got notes on me?" I ask, my hands reaching out to grab it, but he retreats faster than I can catch him. "What have you got in there that's so serious?"

"Nothing." and his tone's a bit too stern and I don't really want to push it when he's being so uncharacteristically nice to me.

"I've actually got this ready for you" I pull the file out of my own bag and toss it to him. "I'm not sure exactly what you need to know but that should be the majority of it at least."

He opens it up and glances over the the pages. It takes him all of 2 minutes to get through the whole thing. It feels unsettling that he's taking in a boiled down version of my life while I'm just sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. Trying to avoid the attention I pipe up.

"Um, hey, maybe it would be a good time for you to show me where to make a start digitizing your books over here?" I stand up and make my way to the shelf. He jumps up off the sofa and walks toward me, visibly excited.

"That's actually a great idea, I thought that the theses from my degrees could be a good place to start, since I'm pretty sure they're not backed up anywhere." he guides me to a section of the book case by the window. There's a series of leather bound hardbacks, the same gold font embossed on the spines. I recognize all of them, pulling out the first one.

"This is my favorite" I say without thinking about it and he does a double take, clearly thrown.

"You've, uh, you read my work?" he asks, completely puzzled. I'm sort of proud that I've managed to make him this awkward, and I nod.

"Mmhm, back before I joined the BAU actually. Before I really knew you" I regret saying the last part, it comes out a little meaner than I really wanted it to so I back track. "Spencer, I read all of your work while I was in college, you were like the gold standard. I don't think I slept more than 2 hours a night throughout my PHD because I was just trying to get as much done as you." and his face softens at the admission. But it takes him a moment before he responds. Leaving the two of us in silence a little too long.

"I had no idea" is all he says.

"I think this one was best" I say propping up the one in my hand, "you get a bit cockier as you move on” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "but I'll start with all of these I guess" I grab the matching books and stack them in my arms. Walking over to his desk and setting up. Glancing at the clock it was only 7pm so I decided to just make a start.

Spencer didn't contest. Letting me just get settled at his desk, I pull out my laptop and begin work on transcribing the first volume. After a few minutes he silently places a cup of tea down beside me and goes to sit on the sofa. The time rolls in quickly after that, each time I look up at Spencer he's carefully combing through the file I'd given him. Re-reading it and making little markings in his lavender notebook. I'm not really sure what I put in there that was worth making a note on but clearly he was reading between the lines on some things. That little notebook was like a profile of me.

When he seemed like he'd finished writing he pulls out his phone, scrolling through it aimlessly like I'd never seen him do before. It made him look so normal. His eyebrows knit together as he's looking at something on his screen and he stands up. Making his way over to me at the desk and shows me what he was looking at.

"Who's this?" he asks, "This guy you're with?"

I recognize the photo instantly. It's from a few years earlier, Nathan and I on the beach, my head resting on his chest. He'd taken it while we were on vacation celebrating our anniversary. That was about a month before I got into the BAU, I had no idea that was going to be our last anniversary. I gulp down the emotions that it stirs. I'm mostly over the whole thing by now, but looking at old photos like that, photos of happier times, it can still sting.

"That's uh, the boyfriend I was telling you about last week. Nathan, we broke up not long after I joined the BAU?" he nods, but he's smart, and I kind of figure he already knew that.

"Ah alright" he takes out the hardback and jots another note down. Maybe he's trying to get a read on me.

"What are you doing?" I gesture to the phone,

"It's research, do you not think that if you and I were really dating that stalking your social media profiles would be on my agenda?" he's smug, and he's right. But I guess I just didn't expect it from him.

"Well that's not really fair now is it? I can't reciprocate, you've got no social media presence whatsoever!" he finds that funny, letting out a deep chuckle and tucking his phone away in his back pocket.

"Maybe so, but that imbalance is hardly my fault. Besides, you've read all my dissertations apparently..."

"Bastard" I joke, slamming my laptop shut and throwing a pen from his desk at him so that it lightly bounces off the top of his head.

"Hey, there's no need for violence Y/N!" he rubs the spot beneath his curls, "Maybe it's time you took a break actually?" he says, sitting himself back down on the sofa.

I was reluctant to admit it but he was right. My eyes were starting to go a little fuzzy after looking at the screen for so long. I stand up and stretch my arms out above my head, feeling my spine stretch out after sitting for so long, letting out a low groan. Spencer waves me over to the sofa and I join him.

"How about we go back to basics?" Spencer asks with a small grin, and I can't help but let out a long sigh.

"I thought I was taking a break, no more questions" he just laughs at me,

"Relax, you're not that interesting, it's just a simple question." he states, and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to find it funny or offensive

"Ugh, fine, shoot"

"Well, actually it's two questions" he corrects, "what's your favorite movie, and what's your favorite snack?"

I'm confused mostly by the fact that it actually is a simple question, I was expecting something a lot more contentious, but also because he looks eager to know the answer.

"I'm not really sure what my favorite movie is to be honest, one of them is Night of the Living Dead?"

He nods to himself, and jots it down in the notebook again, "Alright, I can make that work" he stands up off the sofa before turning back to me, "and snack?"

"Peanut butter cups I guess?" I respond and he grins ear to ear, which is a completely new sight, and I like it way more than I thought I would.

"Perfect, gimme 2 minutes!" he leaves the living room and wanders towards the kitchen.

Spencer returns a few minutes later with a DVD, a packet of peanut butter cups , and a thick knitted blanket gathered in his arms. He drapes the blanket over me and gently places the peanut butter cups on top of it before popping the DVD into the player and sitting down beside me. I'm not really sure how to process any of the situation. Am I about to watch a movie on Spencer Reid's sofa? Sitting next to Spencer Reid?

"I... I, uh, thought you were just asking for your notes?" I ask, pointing at the notebook resting in his lap. He picks it up and throws it onto the coffee table.

"Sometimes I find experience is the best teacher, don't you?" he asks before pressing play, “And besides, it should keep you quiet for a whole 96 minutes” of course.

I can only nod in agreement, I'm not really sure what I'll say if I try to speak. I get myself cosy under the warm blanket and we watch the movie in near silence.

Once the credits roll Spencer finally speaks up, "I actually went to see a screening of this last month downtown, there was this little old horror movie fest-" I cut him off without really realizing, I'm just strangely excited that we've genuinely got something in common.

"Holy shit, I was there!" I say, more enthusiastic than the situation calls for.

He laughs at my excitement, "Well, I guess we have more overlap than I thought, that should probably help with the whole charade." he stretches his arms up over his head and let's out a small, gentle yawn. I'd been enjoying myself more than I thought I would, or would ever tell Spencer, that I'd almost forgotten that we'd both been on a case for almost every waking moment of the past week. I really should feel a lot more drained than I do.

I was just after midnight when I suggested that I head back home. I offered to take some of the books home to work on throughout the weekend but Spencer insisted that I just work on them whenever I came over again. I sort of felt like I should thank him for the evening when I was on my way out the door, or give him a quick hug, no that felt wrong. In the end all I could really muster was a lousy, "goodnight" and a meek wave on my way out the door before I drove home. And couldn't get to sleep.

— —

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sleepyfemme · 3 years

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hi !! do you have any advice on how to improve/grow your yoga practice ? rn I'm mainly doing yoga by watching yoga with Adrienne but I feel stuck ? ig i want to try new things and push myself more but I'm a little bit lost on how to do it. so if you have any advice, that would be great !! thank you ❤️

yes i absolutely have some advice!!!! sorry this ended up being kind of long lol

i think adriene is great, but she does stay within a kind of limited range & style of movement which can get boring & uninspired after a while. what i did at the beginning of covid when i was trying to form a home practice was skim a lot of other youtube yoga classes for ideas & take screen recordings of things i wanted to try later. i hate to recommend anyone venture into the instagram yoga world, but i did that on instagram as well lol. it is definitely possible to find people on instagram who have reasonable, normal yoga practices and don't just do crazy inversions and stuff, and i've definitely drawn a lot of inspiration from them this past year. if you're into following videos, maybe find a yoga instructor you like who has a paid app or service and try that (i don't really enjoy following videos so i wasted some money doing this, but everyone is different!!). i understand because of covid or other reasons this might not be possible for you (right now at least), but truly nothing is better in my opinion than an in person yoga class. if that's accessible & safe for you, i would really recommend it!!! if not, check to see if your local yoga studios have any video classes on their website. they often will be better than what you can find on youtube

also, listen to your body & move in whatever ways feel good!! it doesn't have to be in a sequence & doesn't have to be an actual asana, just stretch & move around your mat & figure out what feels good. closing your eyes & breathing through different parts of your body will help you with this. just learning to move intuitively in ways that work for you will really open up your yoga practice in a big way.

i use a progress tracker app (the one i use is called done if anyone is interested) & having a way to track my practices was super motivating to me, and it might be for you as well!! setting a small goal for yourself could be very helpful (but don't put too much pressure on it either). for me when i started using the app i didn't necessarily have a specific goal in mind, but it did force me to get on the mat every single day even on low energy days or days when my mental health wasn't great, and i learned how to move & care for myself in those moments & i wouldn't have done that if i hadn't made myself practice every day. for me at least, i was only really motivated to practice on days where i had high energy & was in a really good mood, and i think having a steady home practice means you have to get on the mat more than just when you feel like it (especially bc when you DON'T feel like it is probably when it will help you the most). also, getting a nice non-slippery mat was a game changer for me

try keeping a yoga journal!! this is something i've personally failed at (but i do keep trying at least), but maybe try keeping a journal near your mat to just write about how you felt during practice, how you feel after, anything new you tried, emotions or feelings that came up in your practice, etc etc. if you aren't already meditating, trying some meditation can really help you connect with your body, especially body scanning meditation & breathwork meditations. incorporating breathwork into your yoga practice also will help with that.

my favorite thing about home practice personally is how playful they can be!! your time on the mat should be fun. for me personally that means putting on music & dancing/singing to it while i flow. it also means that when i fall out of balances or other poses i'm not strong at, i laugh about it & keep going. having a practice that's playful & fun & joyful is like, the whole point!!

if you're comfortable with it, take some videos from time to time!! this is helpful partially to check your form & alignment & making sure you're doing things safely, but partially bc it's so cool to be able to physically see all the progress you've made!! i found that super super motivating to keep practicing.

i hope this was helpful, best of luck to you!!! 💖💖💖

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myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants · 4 years

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This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

#lillith masterlist #lillith writes #lilliths writing

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sophi-s · 3 years

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Cost of Kindness

Chapter IV: Complications

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6,656

Characters: Raphael, Original Female Character (OC), Fury

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Swearing (a lot of it XD)

Summary:

After far too many close calls and an adventure that will last her a lifetime, Nicola and Raphael finally make their way towards Haven. Unfortunately, not everything goes as smoothly as it could.

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Many, many centuries ago taking off to the grand skies has become one of humanity's greatest dreams. They always wished to be able to fly, envying birds their wings and wishing to join them in their aerial conquest. It took many more ages to even try to think of it seriously and even longer for the humans to create the first working airplane and fulfill their dreams as the gravity kept thwarting all their plans. But once this seemingly impossible goal was accomplished, this event has been recorded on the pages of history as one of the most remarkable inventions of the human race.

When she was little, Nicola dreamed of flying on her own as well. She loved watching birds, tracking the planes soaring through the sky, so far away they looked like ants, and thinking about how it would be to have her own wings. Her dreams eventually were abandoned as she grew older, more serious and more reasonable. But honestly, if a week ago someone asked her if she would choose to have wings if she could, Nicola without hesitation would reply "a huge YES". Now however, she realised something she didn't really take into consideration before. While humans wished to rule the skies, they absolutely were not created for this. They have been made flightless, earth-ridden creatures and for a good reason. Her very apparent fear of heights made it awfully clear to her.

These thoughts were all Nicola could hear aside from the rustling of feathers on the wind as she desperately held onto her angel friend, her heart hammering in her chest, eyes wide and stomach making somersaults while everything was spinning around like a carousel. At a certain height the human body just starts to give up and refuse cooperation. For those who are afraid of heights the gap is even smaller and the symptoms more severe. All that was keeping her from fainting or throwing up there and then was the fact that she refused to look down to see how high they actually were but imagining the small buildings below her wasn't making it much better. If she survives this, she will never ask any angel for a fly again and - if it will ever be possible after the apocalypse - stay the heck away from any sort of working plane. Ground was where she belonged. Flying was not her cup of tea and no one will ever convince her otherwise.

Raphael seemed oblivious to the silent prayers spilling past her lips and just kept flying, fully focused on his destination, as she was absolutely certain she's going to die. Her muscles were completely stiff, as though she looked Medusa in the eye. She couldn't even see anything with how her face was buried in the rumpled fabric of Raphael's clothes but she assumed they were getting closer and closer. Focus on anything else than the height. Anything! She kept telling herself when her jaw started to hurt from how she was clenching her teeth. Easier said than done. Nicola knew that Raphael wasn't going to drop her. He promised her and lately she learned to trust him but the pull of gravity beckoning her down into the abyss and to a long plummet ending in a painful impact and certain death… The last time she was this panicked was when the Fallen jumped her out of nowhere. Speaking of which… God, please, let this be a smooth flight. No demons, I'm begging you..

Encounter with stray demons was the last thing they needed now. She didn't doubt Raphael's ability to defend both her and himself but if a flying demon was to attack them from surprise… Not a single part of her already malfunctioning brain could produce a scenario that wouldn't end in either of them dying or at least suffering grave injuries. In short words, any sort of aerial confrontation would mean serious trouble. And trouble wasn't something Nicola missed. Especially after the last night..

Seems like her prayers have been answered. So far nothing noticed an angel and a human passing overhead. And those demons which did apparently decided not to bother them since it didn't seem worth it or had no way of giving them trouble from where they were standing. Nicola stopped counting seconds of their journey long ago and the only indication of the passing time was the wind rushing through her hair slowing down as Raphael started to try and spare as much energy as he could, gliding whenever possible on his wings simply stretched out on both sides and flapping them only to keep the right height, out of range of any demons that could be sulking below when he began to grow weary. His stamina wasn't probably in the best condition after the time he spent in hiding and most likely not moving much.

When she gets back to Haven, Nicola is going to first, eat a solid lunch since her stomach was displeased again - though now she couldn't really feel it twisted in panic like that - second, go the fuck to sleep for the rest of the day. Even though she spent the last night sleeping like a dead woman, she didn't feel that well rested. The amount of stress she had to endure exhausted her and a few hours of rest weren't enough to regenerate her full strength. High on her bucket list was also taking care of Raphael, to at least make him look decent and dress any wounds he carried. Elanya could do that too but Nicola couldn't imagine that Raphael would let a maker he doesn't know do anything to him. She remembered how distrustful he was in the beginning. And after she gets back, no more escapades if not necessary. At least two weeks long break. Ulthane is going to make sure she stays there anyway so she might as well spend her time on sleeping and some light activities.

Speaking of Ulthane… Nicola wasn't actually sure what she'd say to him once she suddenly showed up in Haven after all that time with a traumatized, crazy angel at her side. To say it will be awkward as heck, would be a severe understatement. It's not even about Raphael. How is she going to explain herself to the overbearing maker who is standing on his head to save the last survivors of her kind while, by nearly killing herself three times already, she acted nothing if not ungrateful? And honestly, she wasn't in shape to wonder about it now because her mind refused to focus on anything else than this one thought of the lethal distance between her and the ground. Damn it all.. Why does she have to be afraid of heights and find out this very unpleasant way? Really, if someone tried to take her from Raphael before he landed or too short time after, they'd probably need a crowbar to pry her off him.

While Nicola thought that the flight itself was awful, the moment her stomach seemed to move up into her gullet as Raphael dipped towards the ground she unwittingly shrilly cried out in fear. And that was a mistake. The angel, startled by the quiet human he'd been holding this entire time suddenly screaming bloody murder for no apparent reason, tried to halt his descent to figure out what's wrong but it was already too late for that. As a result the landing was rather rough. Nicola closed her eyes and so she didn't see how Raphael clumsily hit the ground and barely kept himself propped up not to land on top of her as she slipped out of his grasp and lost her grip on his robes. The expectations of a long fall made her throat tighten and trap her voice inside. All the bigger relief once after barely an inch or two, her back connected with the surface, drawing a soft and strained "oof" from her.

Still scared, disoriented and confused, Nicola opened her eyes to see wide-eyed Raphael hunched over her, hands on either side of her head - with the staff to her left - and gawking at her with a slight panic on his face. Goodness, he was way too close. Pulling her arms close to her body in a helpless attempt to regain her personal space, she smiled awkwardly.

"H-hi there!"

The moment he saw that nothing was wrong and her face regained some of its color, Raphael breathed with relief and got off her, once again offering his hand to help her up. Once back on her feet, Nicola nearly cried out when she felt the solid ground under the soles of her boots. Blessed earth, she could literally kiss it right now. But the fact that they were not in Haven yet disconcerted her a little. Looking around, she noticed they're in an empty street in the middle of nowhere. Casting a questioning glance at Raphael she didn't even need to ask. The way his wings were slumped against his back, his breath heavier than before said it all. Plain and simple, Raphael was tired. Too tired to keep going. Still, he was eyeing her cautiously.

"Why… why were you screaming?"

Still feeling the nausea and the shaking of her knees, Nicola scratched the back of her neck and turned her eyes away ashamed.

"Ahuh… I'm not-... I'm not used to flying, that dip scared me a little. Sorry about this.."

Raphael said nothing to this, simply nodded, and lowered himself to the dusted road to have a seat by one of the decrepit stores. Nicola decided to let him have his five minutes to rest before going any further. Store. She suddenly realised. And not just any. A grocery store. At the mere thought her stomach rumbled. Not only could she have something for herself but also gather some stuff for others! If anything there is still edible that is. It wouldn't hurt to check. Every bit of food is precious.

"Raphael, can you wait here for a bit? I'll be back in a jiffy."

Out of the corner of her eye she already saw him shift in apprehension and almost begin to stand up. Probably because she ran once already and in his mind could do it again. She proceeded to calm him down immediately by pointing at the building she intended to search.

"I'll just go in there to look for stuff, don't worry. I will come back."

Staring at her for a couple of intense seconds, Raphael eyed her from head to toe twice before his concerned gaze softened a bit.

"Promise me…?"

Nicola smiled reassuringly and nodded. There weren't many options for her if she did want to run off. Besides, she wasn't quite sure where she was just yet. Her orientation in terrain was… less than decent as of late.

"I promise."

She offered and once Raphael sat somewhat comfortably back down, she took her backpack and shotgun - just in case - and stepped in through a broken window. The inside of the store was in utter disarray and even that was putting it lightly. Most of the shelves were toppled over, some even in pieces. Glinting shards of glass littered the floor, crunching under Nicola's feet every time she made a step. Unsurprisingly, nothing was working. No lights, no freezers, no ventilation. No time to waste. Nicola began her search immediately.

Approaching the fruit stand greeted her with bitter disappointment. Apples, oranges, pears and many other fruits were already rotten and sometimes even coated in white specks of mould. Definitely not good. With vegetables it was exactly the same. The only carrot that looked acceptable at first, turned out to have been completely wilted. Tossing it aside, Nicola moved on. She didn't even bother looking for meat. The stench hit her the moment she came inside and were it not for the smell of decomposing corpses that drifted around the sewers when she was there, she probably would've thrown up where she stood. Instead, she just covered her mouth and nose with her bandana.

Any dairy products were off the table too. Without working freezers every single one of them has surely gone sour by now. A diarrhea was not something she wanted to have in Haven and most likely neither did the makers. Nicola didn't dare to so much as touch any eggs that still were somehow intact. Bad idea. A smelly one as well. There's no way some of them haven't gone bad yet. The risk wasn’t worth it. Passing by one of the mostly whole shelves, she absent mindedly grabbed a bag of dry cat food and stuffed it into her backpack. It was highly probable that most of the survivors would be feeding the kitten with any leftovers but.. just to make sure the poor thing doesn't starve to death.

Most of the jars have broken during initial earthquakes but two small jars of pickles seemed to be mostly alright. Without giving it much thought, she placed them in her backpack. Four bags of freeze-dried fruits quickly found their way into her pockets once she got a hold of them. Under a broken shelf, Nicola spotted an edge of some packet. Assuming it was just crackers or something, she reached into the rubble for it but once she pulled it out… she immediately regretted her decision. It was, in fact, not a bag of crackers. It was a whole, torn bag of soured cabbage coated in some strange growth - probably mould - she didn't get a chance to really look at because her attention was caught by something inside the bag. Probably squeezed in through the tear and got stuck, a small, bloated body of a gigantic, hellish critter. Instinctively, Nicola yelped quietly and without giving it much thought she lobbed the thing across the whole store before wiping her hand on the nearest piece of rag that wasn't her clothes. She didn't even get any of the spilling juices on her but… gross. Just gross. Ew ew ew! Ignoring the wet splat the bag made when it hit the floor wasn't an easy task. Still shaking off the disgust, she continued her search, noting to herself never to touch something she isn't sure what it is.

From there it thankfully was starting to go much smoother. Two packets of crispbread, some dark chocolate and a box of tea were found and collected. Nicola nearly cheered out loud when she spotted a few Snickers on a shelf. One she immediately opened and eagerly ate while the rest landed safely in her backpack. It might be mostly sugar with a bit of peanuts but it was a good snack that could deceive the brain for quite some time. To be frank, Nicola lived half of the high school on those whenever her lessons lasted too long for her breakfast to keep her sated. Besides, she couldn't imagine others would mind her bringing a bunch. Especially Marie. Jacob will most likely strangle Nicola if his daughter eats too much sweets but in the end it'll be worth it. Anything would be worth putting a smile on that sad little face.

Somewhere on the floor, Nicola even found a box of vitamins which luckily was not out of date yet. With a deficit of fruits and vegetables, those could be lifesavers. Especially for Leslie. She needs the most of it. Unfortunately, the space in her backpack was very much limited and soon she couldn't put anything more in there. Rearranging the contents of it, she put in one bottle of water, careful not to crush the crispbread and chocolate. At least she found something. Her escapade wasn't all for nothing when it comes to supplies. But even without those, she wouldn't say she regrets it. Against all the odds, she lived. And most importantly, she gained an otherworldly friend. And in times like these, a friend is something to be treasured.

Slinging her now much heavier backpack on her shoulders, she picked up her gun and headed towards the broken window she used as an entrance before. Peeking out from the store, she saw Raphael where she'd left him and a very much awake cat playfully attacking the longest quill of his left wing. His head perked up when she dropped onto the sidewalk beneath the window and she could've sworn she'd seen the corner of his mouth twitch upwards for a second there. Smiling, she unfolded her hands and shrugged.

"See? I keep my promises."

The angel hummed quietly before leaning his head against the wall behind him and closing his eyes. Nicola was about to ask if he's good to go but let the thought perish when she noticed his eyebrows furrow and his chapped lips twist into a slight grimace. Soon after, his right hand wandered up to his chest as he took a couple of quick and shallow breaths through his clenched teeth. If Nicola didn't know any better, she'd have said Raphael was having a heart attack. Can an angel even have an infarct? She honestly had no idea. In fact, she didn't even know how old he is. She couldn't tell. All the angels she'd met so far had white hair so that's not a hint to go by and his face didn't necessarily look old or young. He seemed as ageless as the time itself. Still, she didn't want to take any chances.

"Raphael? What's wrong?!"

She asked as she crouched beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him if needed. Raphael simply slowly shook his head and turned to look at her tiredly. And in his blank eyes she saw the already familiar pain and a spark of a silent plea.

"Just a little longer.. Let me rest a while…"

It took everything Nicola had in her to stop the sigh of relief. It didn't sit right with her that Raphael was still suffering and she could do absolutely nothing about it but hearing he's mostly fine, with only the usual ailing him, made her feel a tad easier. When his breathing grew slower and calmer, she even let herself slip down to the floor beside him.

"Sure. We have time, I guess.."

It was still relatively early, barely an hour or two after noon and Nicola wasn't that eager to return into the sky so soon. Only thinking about it made her feel a little sick. Hopefully, it wasn't too far to Haven from here. Even though Nicola really wanted to finally get home, she decided to be patient with her companion. He was wounded and most likely ill but he still tried his best to help her, even though he hadn't known her that long. He deserves a moment. Nicola too needed to sit down for a second as her thigh was still a bloody nuisance. Just a few more minutes. It wouldn't do harm to have a little break now, would it?

Yes. Yes it would. Nicola suddenly realised when she saw the kitten arc its back and puff its tail out. It hisses loudly before scurrying away into the store she just left and soon enough Nicola realised why once she looked into an alley ahead of her. The sight of a massive, winged shape made it painfully obvious. Her heart nearly ceased and Raphael beside her tensed at the sight of an enormous demon with curved horns and teeth, each the size of her palm, resembling a set of barbed knives made specifically to cut meat. The edges of long healed wounds that left behind terrible scars on her abdomen began to itch as she gawked at the familiar monster that nearly took her life. Flapping of gigantic wings that covered the sky with its expanse… Razor sharp claws curling around her body… the same talons tearing into her flesh as Ulthane attempted to free her from its grasp. And this shriek… oh God, this shriek…

Despite the apparent pain and exhaustion, Raphael slowly - not to agitate the demon - got up to his feet and raised his wings threateningly as he stepped in front of aghast Nicola. The fact that due to its bulkiness this thing seems almost twice as large as he is doesn't make an impression on him. Or maybe it does but he doesn't show it. The Fallen stared at Raphael with its small red eyes as a pair of Phantom Guards rounded a corner and joined the beast. Each carried a jagged blade that could easily tear through angelic armor. Nicola had seen it happen. Following them was another bloody Goreclaw. But these three she barely even noticed. Her wide eyes were focused on the larger demon. She felt her muscles refuse cooperation and seize. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. Her mind repeatedly screamed No nono no NO! Not like this!!

With excited roars, the lesser demons charged towards the angel standing between them and the weak, pathetic and helpless human as the Fallen spread its wings and took off into the air. Even as Nicola kept stone still, Raphael remained sharp and ready to act as always. One spell spilled past his lips and the flying demon instantly went rigid before plummeting back onto the ground and crashing into a broken car, setting its annoying alarm off. It didn't discourage the other three but it let Nicola find will to move and clutch her gun tighter. Ever since she'd met Raphael, he'd been doing nothing but getting her arse out of trouble. Taking a shaky breath she decided to start repaying favors.

Though, once again she didn't really have a chance to do anything as she was dumbstruck by the following scene playing out before her. As the hellish monsters charged, Raphael took his staff in both hands and held it before himself, closing his eyes and muttering an incantation in his melodious language. The moment the first demon stepped a tad too close, Raphael's eyes snapped open, burning like two white suns and a sleek ethereal blade materialized from the tip of what Nicola previously thought just an ornament or a walking cane. It glowed like the purest light ever to exist. Another assumption Nicola made about Raphael turned out to have been false. The last thing she can say about him is unarmed. He carried no blade, no gun or anything but who needs a weapon as lame as those when in addition to powerful sorcery you have a freaking lightsaber?

Everything lasted less than a second as the angel led a wide, sweeping slash of his spectral sword… spear thing… and promptly relieved the Phantom Guard of its horned head, before stopping the pouncing Goreclaw with a flick of his free hand, suspending it in the air growling and hissing. The other Phantom Guard had no chance to either attack the vulnerable angel or retreat, when Raphael was busy cutting down the quadrupedal demon, as Nicola came back to her senses and, instead of running like she always has, jumped forward and fired her shotgun. The resounding bang travelled through the entire city, bouncing off the walls and drifting far into the desolate town but it had the effect Nicola counted on.

The Phantom Guard staggered backwards with a chest full of buckshot, wheezed a couple times and tripped over onto its back never to get up again. With adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Nicola stared at the either dead or dying demon in wonderment, her brain trying to process what just happened, before releasing a breathless laugh of triumph. She killed one. She actually killed one! Raphael too seemed rather surprised but not unpleasantly so as he let the blade fade away.

"I got it! Did you see that?!"

"That indeed, I have.."

He said as he eyed her carefully, probably just to check if she's fine. Aside from a little fresh blood on his boots and hands, Raphael didn't seem to have gotten hurt in any way. Well… more than he'd already been at least. Nicola beamed up at him nearly bursting with pride at her actual first kill on a demon larger than her shin. And he seemed happy for her, if the soft smile he regarded her with could be an indication. But this victory didn't last long. Her own smile faded when she saw the Fallen stiffly getting up from where it slammed onto the ground, pure rage on its monstrous face. Her pulse began to race again but this time she refused to let the panic get a hold of her just yet.

"Watch out!!"

She cried too late, just a sliver of a second too late. Raphael whipped around to face the attacker and all he managed to do was raise his hand before the charging demon swung its head to the left. And with the force of a truck driving at the speed of fifty miles per hour, slammed it into the angel, making a formula of a spell die on his lips as he was sent flying through the air and crashing against a nearby building. The force of the impact caved in the wall and the kind, mad angel disappeared in a cloud of dust. All that was left were a couple of white feathers slowly falling to the ground.

"NO!"

Nicola didn't pay any mind to how her voice broke and squeaked pitifully when her heart leaped up into her throat. She could only stare at the place where Raphael vanished with a rumbling crash as the enraged demon growled in the same direction. Not a single part of her being agreed with what she'd just witnessed. A second before he was standing right there, like nothing was about to happen, distracted by her gushing over her first serious kill. Nothing should have happened, why did the demon unravel Raphael's magic just like that? Even a Shadowcaster didn't manage to do that! Why would this one? And why… Tears welled up in her eyes as her lower lip trembled… why did it have to… end the way it did…?

To make matters worse, the Fallen was still before her, still furious and thirsting for blood. Not wasting more time, Nicola pulled out a handful of new bullets and tried to reload her weapon but it proved almost impossible with how much her hands were shaking. Thank Christ, the demon was taking its sweet time as it faced her and began to lumber towards her on all fours, huffing out breaths stinking of rotting meat. Faster, faster, damn it! Nicola cursed inwardly when she dropped a couple of shells before she finally managed to place the ammunition where it should be. But when she looked up, the Fallen was on top of her already. Parting its jaws wide, ready to swallow her whole.

The scream of anguish that felt so tempting in the back of her throat never came to be. In a second, Nicola thought about all the horrors she'd lived through. All demons she'd met, all shambling corpses of former humans brought back by vile sorcery. All friends she'd made and lost.. Raphael, do just one thing for me. She gritted her teeth as her knuckles turned white from how she was gripping her weapon. Despair started to turn into rage. Burning bright and white hot inside of her, the flame Raphael had helped her see. Please, be alive when I come for you… The demon lunged forward to sever the string of her measly life by biting her in half. But Nicola wasn't going to let it get her so easily. Her fear was forgotten as she stuck the barrel of her shotgun into the monster's opened maw. She didn't want to die. Not now, not like this. For once she wanted to have a say over her own fate. Over the date of her demise. She is still young, she had a whole life ahead of her. And all those demonic dickheads with the Destroyer leading the charge decided to ruin everything and not only for her, but for every human who lives still and who has perished. And those who are yet to be born. She refused. She will not die. Not here. Not killed by that thing.

"FUCKOFF!!!"

And she fired. Partially, the sound was muffled by the demon's mouth snapping shut just barely missing Nicola's arms as she let go of her gun. The Fallen recoiled and began to shriek in pain, spitting out its own blood onto the concrete at its feet. Nicola didn't have delusions she could kill it but it gave her the precious seconds she needed. She ran for the closest hiding place available, which was the store she just left. Nicola leaped in through the broken window and quickly made it to the opposite wall to put as much distance between herself and the writhing monstrosity as possible. And it was a good choice. A loud roar from the street made her heart fall into her heels as the injured demon finally gathered its bearings.

Nicola looked at the Fallen that was coming her way with murder in its eyes. The unexpected bout of courage has long faded and the petrifying fear once again had Nicola in its chilling grasp. Even with the mouthful of bullets, the Fallen did not intend to give up on its prey. And here she hoped it would piss off if she fed it with lead… Snarling and panting, the demon approached the broken window with its own blood pouring from between its sharp fangs. It only added to the menacing image of the beast that had Nicola trembling and frozen.

Think, Nicola, THINK! What can she do against an opponent far bigger, stronger and more dangerous than a single human without a weapon? The Fallen was trying to fit through the window, reaching out with its clawed paw to try and get her. Nicola looks around in panic, looking for anything that could save her. In a grocery store. Good luck. Eventually, she says "fuck it" and grabs a most likely rancid egg. The laughably small projectile splatters over the face of the demon with a squelch and even from far away Nicola is sure this egg was definitely rotten. Even the Fallen stops for a second to shake the disgusting goop off of its head but before it's done, another egg flies through the air and cracks on its head, just as stinky as the previous one.

"How'd ya, like that, asshole?! Wanna have some more?!"

Nicola yells at the demon, holding yet another egg, fully prepared to just chuck it at the monster. Unfortunately, all she managed to do was piss it off even further as its efforts in reaching her doubled. Pieces of plaster and bricks were coming loose as the demon tried to wriggle into the shop to finally kill that annoying pest lobbing small, smelly things at it. As a result, an egg once again hit the demon while Nicola kept shouting out profanities that probably made her poor mother toss and turn in her grave. She's not going down without a fight, even if the said fight is done by throwing eggs and all the gross shit she found on the floor. But she knew she isn’t getting out of this one.

And so, this is it. Nicola couldn't believe she would die by the claws of the same creature that nearly killed her once before. Was Ulthane rescuing her only delaying the inevitable? What a sick joke… Why does fate insist on being cruel? There was so much she wanted to say, so many apologies she had to give… so little time… There was nothing she could do. At least… she will see Nicholas again.. her parents and every friend she'd lost in this cursed apocalypse. A miracle would've been nice. A tiny one. Just this once. Please?

And boy, did she get her wish. A sudden force violently tearing the Fallen out of the shop nearly startled her out of her dirty and tattered jeans. Hardly believing her eyes, she watched as her would-be killer screeched in rage and surprise when it was wrenched free from the ruined window and was gone from her vision. A sudden tremor shook the whole building, sending small bits of debris raining down on her head as a mighty roar reverberated through her very bones. But it wasn't the Fallen. It was something meaner. Something… Nicola swallowed thickly at the thought… bigger. Or at least as large as this fucker. Then came clacking of metal, ungodly screeching of the demon. A second later Nicola saw as it was flung through the air like a sack of potatoes and crashed against a block of flats. Instant karma. She thinks with bitter satisfaction when she remembers what that faggot did to Raphael. I need to somehow get to him. Honestly though, she doesn't really want to know what managed to just YEET a Fallen like a skipping rock.

Unfortunately, she finds out and finds out quite soon. From her hideout, she sees an enormous creature, nearly as big as the demon that threatened her, charging towards the stunned monster still bleeding from its mouth. If Nicola had been terrified of the Fallen, then she was on the verge of having a straight out SCA after seeing this chunk of a behemoth. Whatever this thing was, it was the size of an average tree. Its armored hide was burning with red and white flames which were enveloping twin jagged, metal whips it held in its hands. Vestigial wings were trembling with wrath as it turned its radiant white eyes at the battered demon. Between a pair of sweeping horns that crowned its head was a flickering blaze that flared with each step the monstrosity took towards its quarry. Right.. What's the best way to get rid of a monster? Sic a stronger monster on it. The Fallen shrugged off and growled at its new assailant, challenging it to a fight.

While the two beasts were circling one another, battling she couldn't even guess what for, Nicola braced for what was to come. This is a horrible idea. Breath in and breath out. In and out. And when the Fallen pounced at its attacker, she bolted. Not stopping, she ran. Through the street the demons were fighting on, past them - so close she could feel the heat radiating off of the newcomer - and into the building Raphael disappeared in. Nicola hoped she was ready for what she was about to find. She really did. Jumping in through the punched in wall however, she soon found out she was, in fact, not ready. The moment she entered, she immediately caught the sight that made something squeeze inside of her.

On a pile of rubble from the destroyed wall was Raphael coated in dust. Still. Not moving, his mesmerising white eyes shut. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh God, oh NO! Not thinking, all fear and uncertainty she ever felt in his presence was long cast away, Nicola rushed over to him pleading, begging everything that would listen for him to be alive. Don't leave me here like this… Dropping at his side into the rubble, Nicola lays her ear on the top of his chest and doesn't let herself relax until she hears a heartbeat and a shallow breath within. Words cannot describe how much she deflated once she did. He's still alive.. but he doesn’t look good.

"Raphael! Please say something! Can you hear me?!"

Thankfully, angel's eyes lolled open as she spoke to him, hinting that he indeed can hear her. Trying his best to keep his unfocused gaze on her face, Raphael furrowed his eyebrows and lifted his upper lip in a pained sneer as his hand wandered up to clutch at his side where the demon's heat struck him.

"Nnn… Nnii… co…"

He weakly attempted to speak but without much success. No joke, he must've hit his head really hard and she dreaded to think about the state of his ribcage.. But hey! At least he hears and understands what Nicola is saying. And it's a good sign.. right…? Wasting no more time, Nicola helped him sit up, keeping her hand on his forehead to steady him as his own palm rested over hers. Even squinting in pain, Raphael kept looking at her, as though she was the only point of focus he could think of.

"Hang in there, okay?! Please, Phel.. We'll be fine…"

Liar. Something snaps at her. They're pretty much defenseless and vulnerable with a very livid demon still threatening them. One or the other will come out victorious. And to the victor go the spoils… Raphael tried to say something but still couldn't formulate words properly due to the splitting headache pulsing through his entire skull. Though even through ringing in his head and pain in his chest that somehow rivaled the one he constantly felt, he found something in this human's words that baffled him. In her panic, Nicola doesn't catch a puzzled look he sends her way.

Phel?

A choked up cry of a dying demon made them both jump a little and look out through the hole Raphael made when the demon gored him. Just in time to see the flaming beast standing on top of the Fallen and strangling it with its whips. Then, the creature of… quite blatantly feminine curves gave one sharp tug and the demon's head was brutally severed from the rest of its body. And everything fell silent.

Instinctively, Nicola halted her breath and ceased any movement, watching the winner (Nicola felt fully comfortable with calling it per "she" now) shoot a glance towards her and Raphael who by this point tiredly laid his head on her shoulder, heaving in attempts to draw a proper breath. The creature approached slowly, keeping Nicola frozen in place and desperately holding onto her injured friend. When the demon was at the wall, only her massive legs were visible. Seconds ticked by as a set of claws rested above the opening to the house, and a monstrous head loomed through the hole.

That would be more than enough to make Nicola pass right the Hell out but.. Something about this creature intrigued her. It didn't have a snarling, toothy maw but an almost featureless face with the curve of a nose and a pair of bright and ferocious, intelligent eyes. It stared at her with more understanding than any demon Nicola had ever seen. Whatever it was, it didn't seem aggressive for some weird reason. At least not yet.. Then, unexpectedly, the creature was enveloped in red flames as its humongous form began to shrink and reshape into something much smaller but still a good two heads taller than an average human.

From the hot light emerged a very humanlike woman in intricate metal armor. Black tattoos marked her stern face around her luminous, white eyes and on her forehead, right below the line of incredibly dense magenta colored hair which floated freely around her head, defying gravity like it's the most natural thing in the world. Whoever it was, even with an intimidating aura of strength and resolve, her close resemblance to a human calmed Nicola somewhat. Plus, she had to admit that this woman had the looks. Men would probably be killing one another for her. Honestly, Nicola felt kind of jealous.. But considering she was still pretty much helpless with a half-conscious angel leaned against her, it didn't put her fully at ease. At least until the stranger spoke in plain English. Then Nicola finally released the breath she was holding. Crossing her arms, the tall lady sneered slightly at the human and angel before her.

"Well, would you look at that. Guess it's your lucky day today."

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

It's finally done, my goodness! This one was hard to get right but I made it. Don’t ask me how i managed to finish it with two pictures, I have no clue :I

Fury makes an appearance! Badass as always. :D

Also, can I get an F for Raphael's poor ribs?

#darksiders #darksiders 3 #darksiders fury #darksiders raphael #raphael #fury #darksiders OC #human survivor oc #CoK #cost of kindness #chapter IV

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neo-culture-mafia · 4 years

Text

IV. Sorry, My Dear

⚠️⚠️TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️⚠️

The following story contains themes of suicidal thoughts and addiction. Please do not read if you find these themes triggering in any way. Read this post before reading this piece of FICTION

Have you heard the story of the guy,

Who decided not to die?

"Another day at the office...another day in hell." Jae mumbled to himself. The black lettering seemed never ending as he moved page after page.

Everyone was long gone and he was left with his thoughts that reflected the current state of his desk: scattered and full on unwanted words.

"Come on, Jae. Let's go get drinks with Boss." Jae had mimicked the voices of the other associates that worked in the office today. "No. I'm good. Got to finish this work. Beep-boop-boop." He moved his arms in a robot-like fashion.

"Look at me. Working me life away. Jaehyun. That's my name." He moved the papers in random places. This would be Jae's 4th breakdown this week where he needed to tell himself to hold on until tomorrow.

Johnnny looked on in concern from behind the entrance wall. "No good, Jaehyun. Don't wear it out." Jae's hands waves over his head in a dramatic fashion as he pushed himself around in his wheeled office chair.

It wasn't until Johnny saw Jae's hands form into a gun shape that he intervened in the middle of his best friend's scary emotional outburst.

"Jae! There you are!" He rushed over and punched his friend's arm. The look in Jaehyun's eyes made Johnny uneasy. It looked like he had been caught which made him break more. "You almost finished? I wanted to catch a movie with you and maybe have a hangout night," Jae was taken aback by the energy outburst at 2 am.

He could only look at Johnny's excited face from where he sat in his chair, strands of hair obstructing only pieces of his vision. "I got the new Call of Duty and PubG for the console." Johnny's hands rummaged in his pockets till he pulled out his phone, his eyebrows wiggling fiercely. "It's only...2:17. We got all the time in the world."

Johnny picked up Jae's suit jacket that was thrown over the cubicle wall and the younger boy's heavy bag. "I'll drive." Johnny pulled Jae up and turned off his lamp.

They were in the darkness of the office and Jae was still shocked that he was caught before he got worse.

"What do you wanna eat? Steak? McDonald's? Junk food?" Johnny's rambling was tuned out of Jae's mind. He followed the taller man willingly down and out of the office building and to his familiar car.

"Uh...doesn't matter." Was the first thing that came out of Jaehyun's mouth. "Then we'll get everything." Johnny's laugh made Jae's heart swell with hope for the first time in weeks.

'Maybe next time,' he thought, 'I'll hang out with Johnny one last time.'

The car ride was filled with laughter and being in the cold air surrounding the both of them.

Johnny still wonders to this day what would've happened if he didn't walk in the time he did. He had been called to pick up the paperwork from Jae's desk but was met with a sad reality.

Jaehyun wanted to escape reality.

Just kill me in my sleep,

Smother me with pillows and kindness, in which I have never seen

This was it...this was the day. He's written the letters and found a place to go calmly. He was in a euphoric sense that nothing really mattered anymore.

He had been on cloud 9 all week as he's happily been overworked and no one ever asked how he had been doing.

Right now, he was just driving. Driving to take in his home city one last time.

The sun was setting when he came to Han River Park. The clusters of happy people congregated in small bursts of happiness and 'its okay' and 'everything will be alright's.

He parked and stood at the grass's edge. He took deep breaths as the air swept across his body calmly. "Everything is so beautiful." He whispered to himself as he watched the birds dance across the water with such grace.

The lump in his throat that made it home was beginning to ache. Yet, he swallowed his pride and continued looking over the people who would continue their own story's even after his had reached the end. The credits would roll and everyone would walk away from the theater without a second thought.

"I mean. I get that's it's pretty. But I haven't seen someone cry at the scenery since my last romance movie." He was snapped out of reality to see a girl standing next to him.

"Excuse me?" Was all he could manage to get out.

You chuckled, sticking your hand out. "Y/n." You introduced yourself and he was trying to not shake your hand, look the other way, and leave without another word being exchanged.

"Jaehyun." His actions spoke for him as he reached his hand out to meet yours. Your hand was soft and warm in his. A warmness and calm he hasn't felt in a while.

"I'm gonna go get some ice cream. Wanna come?" You barely knew him and we're asking him to accompany you to a sweet treat. "You don't know me." Jae got defensive, his arms crossing over his chest.

"I could be a murderer and you invited me for ice cream?" His questions had your face turn up. "Well I'm sure that murderers like ice cream too. So let's go." You grabbed his arm and pulled him down the long stretch of concrete. You walked and tried to match your steps with his long strides. Your arm cutely wrapped around his as you walked.

"So tell me about yourself, Mr. Jaehyun."

He figured living was just easier than falling really high

"We need to clean." You whined while rolling around in the vast bed full of messed up sheets and a relaxing Jaehyun. "Not now. I just wanna cuddle." He grabbed your body and held you close.

"No. We've been cuddling all day. We need to clean." You got up and pulling at his hands. "You can clean the closet and I can clean the rest of the room. Then cuddles." You reasoned and he groaned as he got up, giving into your wishes.

"Fine." He automatically sat on the ground and opened your shared closet doors.

"I'll be tidying up around here." You ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his head sweetly. "If you need anything just shout." He called as you exited the room to probably start on the kitchen.

Box after box of paperwork and more paperwork from the last 10 years of working in his like of work.

Your singing could be heard through your house as you comedically sang some of the greatest hits. His laughter broke through the apartment when your own voice shook with laughs.

He came upon some photo books with Polaroids of you and him. The last 2 years had been lived in a heaven like state. He hadn't touched alcohol and drugs like he was earlier in his life...before you changed him.

His physical and mental growth were apparent in the pictures as he flipped through the pages. Your hand drawn hearts and small journal entries under some photos had his heart beating rapidly with joy.

He put the book next to his side to look at later with you. His hand came across an unmarked cardboard photo box that had a thin layer of dust on it.

He jiggled the lid off and was met with envelopes. The letters. His notes to his bosses and his friends apologizing for what he was about to do.

Apologizing for the mess they were going to have to clean up in his apartment and in the office where his files would never be filed. Apologizing for giving up so easily and not serving out the rest of his life like he had sworn. Apologizing for not being strong enough to ask for help when he really tried to make it obvious. Apologizing to whoever had to find him after it was all said and done.

Apologizing for not saying goodbye.

"Hey. Do we have any tile cle- oooo letters. Who are they to?" Your voice had made Jae jump like when Johnny caught him that dark night in the office. Like he was caught doing and thinking stuff he shouldn't be.

"No one. Me. In 50 years. Y'know," he shrugged, tossing them back in the box and throwing them in the closet and standing up quickly, "time capsule thing me and the guys did." He shrugged it off and you could only nod.

"Well that's cool. Can't wait to see how you've grown." Your smile had his own lips mimicking in want. Wanting to have your blissful ignorance of what those letters really were.

"Oh yeah. Do we have any more tile cleaner?" You asked and he lead you out to the closet where he scowered the top shelves in search for the cleaning supply.

"You can have it. For a kiss." He held it above his head. You waste no time in kissing his cheek and pulling on his arm till you grabbed the cleaner and ran. His laughs chased your own as you both wrestled for a while.

Both of you laid on the living room carpet, just enjoying the close presence.

His heart was at peace.

I'm okay,

I feel a little bit sick

You had began to notice how Jae had been getting more dull. A year had passed since the night you pointed out the letters. It began to go all down hill from there.

He gave you the same love and affection he usually did, but his eyes held no emotion to big events outside. Alcohol had started to replace meals and sleep.

"Jae you need to eat." You laid a hand on his shoulder softly. "I'm actually going to go grab a drink with some of the boys." And like that. He was out of the apartment. Yet, everytime he came stumbling in the front door with a stench that could repel nuclear waste, you nurses him into bed. Setting an aspirin and water next to his head. Most nights didn't wrap up until 4 am when you knew he was home safe.

You slept with your arms wrapped strongly around his body, afraid he would try to get up and leave to drink again without you noticing.

Mornings would be a rough time as you awoke to a sick Jaehyun who couldn't tell left from right. You were there were comforting words and endless services if bet only asked.

His guilt ate at his chest till there was a free falling feeling that would cease when he took his first shot.

He knew he was getting bad again. He knew he needed to get help but everytime he woke up to face an aspirin and a cool glass of water, the guilt made him drink even more the next night.

He sometimes wished you would leave him to make this easier on you. He wished you would fall out of love and go to bed before he got home.

He wished you didn't introduce yourself in the first place.

But have you heard,

The story of the guy who decided not to die?

Jaehyun got clean again. He started being more present in reality and eventually returned to normal. Sometimes he did get carried away with the alcohol but you were there to help him put down the bottle.

He started openly hanging out with his friends in large gatherings where he didn't mind starting the conversation. He got addicted on life again.

You were all out on a big dinner. You and the other women of the mafia men gathered in the social room while Jae and his closest friends talked and joked around in the parlor.

"Want another drink?" Mark asked as he nudged Jae's elbow. "No I'm okay. I hit my limit for the night."

His friends were the most supportive people that he originally thought wouldn't be. Once be reached his limit, they all switched to fruity drinks followed by water. "So I need your guys' help with something." Jae smiled, taking the blue chalk and rubbing it on the worn end of the billiard's stick.

"What's up, dude?" Johnny asked and all the boys tuned into Jaehyun and his request. "I want to propose to y/n." He said and the room automatically erupted in shouts and cheers. "Sssshhhh." He tried to shush everyone. They remembered the presence of the women in the building and quickly shut up.

"Y/n said she wanted a wedding in the flower fields about.." Jae recalled the previous conversation he had with you. "2 hours from here?" He said and Hyuck automatically knew which ones he was talking about. "It's going to have to be a spring wedding!" He said excitedly and grabbing a pad of paper and a pen from his pocket.

"Alright, lover boy, spill." He said knocking all of the pool balls out of the way, "hey we were playing!" Doyoung protested and Hyuck could only write down the location of the fields, "I'm helping our brother get a wife. Go play with your balls somewhere else." He back handed which caused the room to erupt in laughter.

"Okay. Now. I'm going to need time to get the catering. I'm thinking pork," Hyuck rambled writing down the possible ideas, "or is she more of a chicken person?" he continued which caused some of the boys to chuckle at the wedding-excited nature no one knew Hyuck possessed in himself.

"Also I need to find a cake. I would make it myself but we all know that these beautiful hands would be wrinkly by the time I'm done icing cake for 500 people-" "500?!" Jae said loudly which caused Johnny to slap a hand over his younger friends mouth. "Well duh. That's a minimum." Donghyuck shook his head, drawing a picture of what the cake needed to look like. "amateur."

"I need to get the ring first." Jae said quietly and Taeyong piped in. "Don't even worry about it. I'll take you in the morning to the jewler's to pick out the bands and diamonds. Maybe you could get an engagement ring with her birth stone then the real ring with yours and your wedding band could have hers." Taeyong started rambling ideas, Hyuck writing lightning speed on the pad of paper.

"I call doing the gifts!" Mark and Jungwoo said at the same time. "I'm nominating myself as the planner." Hyuck said writing the roles down. "I'll get the tuxes for us." Taeil nominated himself for the job with a smile. "We need to get Yuta and the rest of the boys up here!" Doyoung brought up a good point.

"Yuta will just bring baby supplies. We're not telling him until a day before the ceremony." Hyuck pointed at the boys but was met with a hit upside the head from Johnny.

"I have to find out the color palette. I'll go to Renjun and then I'll go to Jaemin for the fireworks- Jisung will be the flower girl." Donghyuck kept rattling off things he needed to get done.

"Thank you for giving me this job. I won't let you down." He finally said, laying a hand on Jaehyun's shoulder.

"Better not. It need to be perfect for her. Perfection deserves perfection." Jae said and some gagged while other coo'd at his unwithering love you for you.

The chatty hustle didn't cease as Johnny patted on Jaehyun's shoulder. "You okay?" Johnny asked with a smile on his face. Jaehyun couldn't keep the smile off of his own face. "Never better. On cloud 9." He said and Johnny's heart eased from the constant fear of Jae not being here the next day. But he didn't need to worry anymore.

"I actually need to ask you." Jae said finally putting the polished stick down on the table. "Will you be my best man?" Johnny's eyes lit up like fireworks as he brought Jae in for a manly yet friendly hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Jaehyun."

I'm enamored with the thought of seeing angels in the sky singing,

Singing, "Everything's alright."

Jaehyun proposed the next week. You both went out to an amazing and fancy moonlit dinner where you both danced and decided to start this new journey together.

Then two days after the proposal, he relapsed the worst he has ever had. Johnny found him in your guys' apartment and immediately called you and everyone who he thought he could help.

It's now present day and you can only look at Jaehyun with guilt in your eyes.

The funeral was held in the flower fields you both planned to get married in. The day was cold and dark but he had never looked so happy in his final resting place. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you the happiness you craved." You kissed his cheek before the lid was finally closed.

Now the marble had been set in place and you were alone again.

"I'm not mad. I'm jus-just so...so sorry." You wept, reaching out for him.

"I read the letter and can only ask. Why?"

The only things he had left was a damn note with the words, 'Sorry, My Dear' signing off the page as if he deemed it enough. As if his love had a capacity limit.

"I'm sorry you-you thought I was going to leave you if you told me you were so un-unhappy with life." Your stuttering didn't come to a stop as you could only imagine tears streaming down his own cheeks wherever he was in the universe. The feeling of being ashamed sent you reeling down where you had to support yourself on your knees.

The silent sobs hurt your chest as you had this free falling feeling in your chest getting more deeper. It was as if someone was pounding your chest with a drum mallot. Your heart was breaking as you felt a hand on your shoulder. Yet, you knew no one was there.

"You promised me forever." Your voice was shaky as you brushed the stray pieces of grass away from the marble in the ground.

'Jaehyun. Found happiness in where ours couldn't reach.'

"And I promise, Jae. I will love you...forever."

"And I'm so proud of you for making it this far." You whispered, fingers tracing his name on the polished marble for what felt like the millionth time.

You laid on the ground next to his resting place and looked into the vast blue sky where you imagined him reaching down to you; his soft voice that he used to sing you to sleep with carrying you with him to where you both could live happily ever after. You lifted your hands up as the tears came down.

"You did well."

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dindooku · 4 years

Text

rating: E (swearing and violent themes)

word count: 6,572

tw - not explicitly said but can be interpreted as at suicide

And you thought that suddenly waking up on a planet in another Galaxy, only to be accompanied by a space wizard…a Jedi…was the greatest thing ever. Oh no… you were wrong. Granted, that was all great and everything, but it was no match for the fact that you were granted a lie in — a grand one at that.

You can’t remember the last time you let your body wake you up, not an incessant alarm clock or the hailing of bullets. It was weird, but definitely not un-welcomed.

You rolled over to face away from the wall, yawning and grumbling as the hands of sleep slowly lifted their trance. Slowly blinking open your eyes, you suddenly jolt up, remembering where you are, then crying out a curse at the now, new forming lump on the top of your head from the ceiling you’ve just head-butted. “Fuck—,” you mumble as you slowly roll out of bed, lightly rubbing your hand at the sore spot on the back of your head. You take a glance at your watch, 11:13 AM. Jesus, I really must've been tired. Placing your feet on the floor, you flex your toes and submit to the urge to stretch, grumbling again as the aches and pains of years of warfare click and pinch your body. You decide to wrap yourself up in the blanket Obi-Wan had given you as you trudge out into the front room.

But, it was empty, no sign of life. Surely Obi-Wan would’ve told you if he was going out, or leaving you? Either way, you make your way over to the fridge, hoping to find some scraps to munch on.

A sandwich catches your attention, and you quickly wolf it down without question. If it was Obi-Wan’s, you’d just make him another. He’d understand.

Peering around the room again, you test your voice, “Obi-Wan?” Nothing, “Obi-Wan, are you here?” Again, silence. Assuming he’s gone out, you decide it's probably best you get some fresh air, you’ve never been one for sitting around and doing nothing, so you quickly get dressed into a fresh set of clothes and head out into the temple.

Although you’d never been to a Monk temple or anything grandiose like that, you could only assume that this is what it would be like. The halls were quiet, but the occasional patter of footsteps or rage of children laughing broke the silence and tickled that sense of security that so deeply hides away in your chest. You aren’t used to being so…relaxed. For years your body has been on high alert, always assessing, reassessing, waiting for someone to attack you, to hurt you — yet here... you don’t even have to give defending yourself a passing thought. It’s just, completely and utterly calm, serene, balanced.

Before you know it, you’ve paced the halls for the last half hour and now you are stood outside some set of what appears to be... Dojos?

Glancing around again to make sure no one is watching, you gently place a hand on one of the doors, slowly edging it open. You chance a peek inside, but to your satisfaction, it is empty. You quietly step in, making sure not to make any noise as you close the door behind you. Stepping into the room, it is clear that it is some sort of training area, and upon further inspection your suspicions are correct. Around the edge of the room lay different pieces of equipment, which look like obstacles of sorts. You glance back around the Dojo, basking in the natural light that is pouring in through the high windows. The simple, creamy white walls are sturdy, but don’t feel overbearing, or claustrophobic — like before, it's just peaceful in here.

Letting your gaze roll over the room, you come across a cupboard in one corner. Making your way over, you make note of the soft floor beneath you, the cushiony fabric lightly hugging the soles of your feet, dreamlike. Reaching into the cupboard, you’re quickly met with the familiar array of weapons, although these are…different. Surrounding one edge, an array of combat and throwing knives sit comfortably among one another, along the other sits small staffs and odd-shaped objects you’ve never seen before. But in the middle sits a familiar sight, an odd, metal cylinder. Picking it up, you eye it for a second. It's constructed of metal and is about a hands length or two long. Along the bottom sits black, corrugated slats, and as you look up, a stainless steel-like tube makes up the main body to the top where it thins dramatically into a golden copper colour but is then fanned out into a large flat disk. In the centre of the cylinder, sits a red button. And, if you have ever learnt anything from horror or sci-fi movies, is that you should definitely not press the red button.

So what do you do?

You press the red button.

Instantly the room is filled with a violent blue and the electric hum of raw, static energy. The moment chills you to the bone, and the shock of such a marvellous, beautiful object stuns you. You absolutely, 100% could not have guessed that was what the red button would do. And, as if the inner child was pulling puppet strings within your mind, you slowly back up and wave the funny looking laser sword in front of you. The majestic hum of the blade tickles your eardrums, and you can’t help the intoxicating smile that is now riddling your face, scrunching at your forehand and around your eyes, the emotion of happiness and utter awe broadcasted by your innate reaction to such a feat of beauty.

You are transfixed.

But, you should know better, because as you turn around Obi-Wan is staring right at you — and he too is struggling to fight the fantastic grin gracing his face.

“So I see you’ve found my lightsaber,” he mutters.

“This..this is yours?” You whisper, still not taking your eyes off of the mesmerising blue blade.

“Yes, all Jedi have them, they’re called lightsabers. Unfortunately, I must ask for it back,”

“Yes, yes of course, sorry…I—I shouldn’t have touched it, I just, it—” you stutter out, trying to find a reason as to why you touched his stuff other than it looked cool.

“It’s quite alright, Darling, no need to panic,” he chuckles, reaching around you to switch it off so he could place it on his belt, “but I do believe we have some training to do, so…” he trails off, walking over to the cupboard to place the lightsaber back onto its stand, as well as removing his cloak, placing it neatly on the floor. He walks back over to you and places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you ok, my dear?” He asks, genuine concern now threatening to take over his grin.

“Yes…yes, I—I’ve just never seen anything like it. Its—,”

“Beautiful. I know,” he mumbles, giving your shoulder another tight squeeze to reiterate his point, “But, right now, I need to see you fight,” he says, quickly stepping back and getting into a ready position.

“…Fight, you want to, to fight me?” You ask, not quite sure whether he is joking or not.

“Yes, Dear. Loth-Cat got your tongue?” He chides, a smidge of sarcasm lacing his words.

Oh, ok, he wants to play.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” grinning back, you take a step back and calm yourself, standing broad and powerful.

“Hurt me? You could never, darling I’m a Jedi—”, But before he could finish his sentence, you’ve landed a nice, heavy thud of a kick to his chest, which sends his falling onto his back. That's odd, he thinks, I should be able to feel when she’s about to do something, I…what? Obi-Wan is visibly confused, and so you stop and crouch to the ground instantly, patting down his chest to make sure you weren’t too heavy-footed to start off with.

“I—I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” you say, panicking a little as you pat him down, checking for injuries or any broken bones.

“No—no, it’s me, I--I got distracted,” he mutters, still slightly put out at his inability to use the Force to predict your actions.

“No, I shouldn’t have—” but before you could finish, he’s gripped you by the ankles and is rolling you onto your back. Instantly you roll onto your front and scramble forwards, turning around as you both ready yourself into your respective fighting stances. Again, Obi-Wan lunged at you, but this time you dropped down, kicking your right leg out to trip him from behind. As he fell he grabbed your collar, bringing you down on top of him so that now you were straddling his hips. But, niceties aside, you were in full combat mindset and you were out to win — your body had trained for this for years, and every move was now muscle memory, you were practically a war machine now, designed and manipulated to kill.

So, you braced to the side, jumping back up again to the other side of the room. Obi-Wan followed suit, except — wait. His belt was gone, where…you had it. You had your right hand wrapped a couple of times in a loop, and your left was tightly gripping it as if it were a whip. And that's exactly what you intended to use it for.

Flicking your right wrist, you shot the harsh leather belt out, cracking it just a few centimetres away from the skin on Obi-Wan’s forehead, only then pulling it back, snapping it taut. The toothy grin that pinched at Obi-Wan's eyes didn't put you off like it should've, and instead had the complete and opposite effect, shooting a wildfire of intense heat surging to your core. You were enjoying this way too much, and by the looks of it... so was Obi-Wan, though he'd never admit it. So, you'd use this to your advantage, cracking the belt a couple more times, letting the buckle ting and snap at the pull of your wrist. It kept him at bay for a few moments, but only briefly. Eventually, he lunged forwards, aiming to land a punch as he bound towards you, but you twisted to the side, wrapping his wrist in his own belt. He twisted around, not hesitating to throw a punch to your right cheek. You should’ve expected that, you did just threaten to whip the man, but nonetheless, the thrill of a hard punch to your jaw woke you up. No stupid mistakes. The anger at your mistake was now bubbling, so you quickly wrapped the retreating hand he’d used to punch you into the belt, binding his wrists to yours. He let out a sarcastic chuckle as the realisation hit him — but so did you, both of you reaping the benefits of your...interaction. The smirk on your face grows a little wider now, the true fun only just beginning.

You shifted your weight harshly to the left, throwing him in a 180 to disorient and gain momentum. You then dropped to your knees, only to then twist and bring your entwined wrists above your head and then yanking hard, down over your right shoulder, bringing him onto his back; his head now facing you as his body was strewn away from your thighs. You quickly unwind his wrists, forcing the belt down over his neck to strangle.“Tiger got your tongue, Master?” The satisfaction in your voice over the play on words was clear. Oh, you loved proving people wrong, especially when they pretty much do it for you.

He gently patted your wrist to tap out, and you released him from the hold. Choking a little, he sits up and crosses his legs as he turns to face you, encouraging you to follow suit and do the same. You now both sat cross-legged opposite each-other, knees just lightly touching.

“Where did you learn to do that?” He asked, rubbing slightly at his neck, still grinning despite the discomfort.

“I—I had to learn it myself. In the army, you see, I was the only women in my training battalion, so I was always pitted to fight and train against men, who, if you take a look at me, were typically a lot larger and stronger than me — physically. So, to give myself a fighting chance, I had to play their weaknesses to my advantage,” you said, smiling a little towards the end.

“Go on,” Obi-Wan encourages.

“Well, typically the men would think that they’re going to win, simply because I’m a woman and they’re bigger or stronger than me, but I’m a lover of physics, so I used that to my advantage. They weren’t especially quick or agile, and often they relied on their brute strength to win fights — that's only so good if you can actually land a punch,” you say, harbouring an infectious smug grin as Obi-Wan realised what you were saying.

“Smart girl,” he says, returning your smirk with an equally fictitious grin of his own. And at the use of his words, you blush a little, ducking your head in an effort to hide your quite clear arousal at the specific concoction of praise.

“Yes, well, I figured if I could avoid their punches and use their own weight against them, the odds were in my favour, you could say I would have the high ground... So, like when I took your belt, I used your momentum against you, which A, — means you end up on the floor or out of place, and B, — I use minimal energy to do so, harbouring your efforts to suit mine. It’s all just simple mechanics, really,” you joke, but pleased with your explanation.

“Good…again,” Obi-Wan says. And with that, you both spend the afternoon training, learning from one another, morphing and smelting your own techniques with his, and vice versa, to a point where you were working in complete unison.

_____

“Master Kenobi, you’re needed immediately in the Council Room, it is urgent—,” comes a voice, a smaller younger creature of sorts as they burst into the training room, catching you both off guard. They’re panting as if they’ve just finished running a marathon.

“Yes, yes, of course, I’ll be there right away. Thank you,” he commands, instantly retrieving his cloak and lightsaber from the cupboard. You follow his movements with your eyes, waiting for his instructions. He walks to the door and is halfway out when he stops, turning towards you.

“Well, come on! We can’t leave them waiting!” He says, waving his arm in a beckoning way to hurry you up.

_____

“Skywalker, you are to accompany Master Kenobi and Amy to the Mid-Rim planet to resolve the escalating tensions,” says Mace Windu.

“Go, you will,” Yoda confirms.

“Yes Masters, although, are we sure it is safe for Amy to be travelling with us?” Anakin asks.

“Trained, is she not, Master Kenobi?” Yoda asks, turning his head towards Obi-Wan.

“Yes, she is. It was evident from our training today that her skill set is…unique, and I feel as though the 501st and 212th will greatly benefit from her direction and expertise,” Obi-Wan assures.

“What do you mean unique, Master?” Anakin mutters, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face. And if looks could kill, Anakin would be facing an early grave as the sharpened daggers of Obi-Wan’s glare was enough to puncture even the most protected of souls.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan starts, cursing the younger man with just the use of his name, “Amy is very skilled in combat, and I feel as though she has more to offer us than what we can offer her,” Obi-Wan punctuates.

“Yes, I am quite keen to see this style of fighting myself, Obi-Wan,” Mace says, rubbing his chin in thought, “Maybe even an incorporation of Vaapad could be organised,” He adds.

“I can ask, although I am sure there will be no objection, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan returns, nodding slightly at the offer. He knows Vaapad would be incredibly beneficial to not only your own fighting style but also that of Windu.

“Midichlorian count, know she does?” Yoda asks, changing the subject to something of more gravity.

“No, I—I have not broached that subject yet. Her energy in the force is something I have never experienced, Masters, as I am sure you can sense it too. I feel as though if we inform her of her abilities, we may not be able to offer the right support or, the fact of the matter being, we do not know what powers she does have,” Obi-Wan says gravely.

No one truly understands what is causing your disturbance in the Force to be so…unruly. They understand that the force is not necessarily embraced on Earth and that the human race is not Force-sensitive. But that does not explain your unique signature. It is not like the usual signature a Force-sensitive may harbour, which is outgoing and pure. Their signature reflects their emotion, their current state of mind. For Obi-Wan, it curls slowly in a smooth, milky cloud of crystalline and sea foamy blues, caressing his form with every breath. However, yours is almost…reversed. Like the light isn’t radiating out from you, but into you — as if you’re sucking in and absorbing the energy as you move. You’re not a vessel to the force, as one would normally expect, instead, you are a drain. And even though the Jedi are encouraged not to feel fear, it is unspoken among the Council members that their unease is not uncalled for. You are dangerous, unhinged, and they haven’t the faintest idea what to do about it.

“Talk to her, you must, important her understanding, it is — only problems it will cause, secrecy will. Trust you Obi-wan, she must,” Yoda says, and the council room is silent. Everyone is contemplating the potentialities of this arrangement, but if anyone were to calm and train the unpredictable nature that is Amy, then it is Obi-Wan; the great negotiator of the Republic.

“Yes, Master Yoda, I will see to it that we have this discussion. To add…what are we to do of her training? Must we teach her the way of the Jedi? She will have to face trials, and as we all know, she is not attuned to the Jedi way,” Obi-Wan asks.

“Hmm…” Yoda ponders, his ears dropping and his attention shifting elsewhere, deep in contemplation, “Meditate I will, future uncertain, it is,” He says. And with that, he bashes his stick to the ground and the meeting is adjourned.

_____

You’re waiting anxiously outside of the council chambers. You couldn’t necessarily hear what was going on inside, but the general energy was…stifling. It was tense, and more than one person was obviously displeased with the current situation. But, as the doors to the chamber swung open, it was quite apparent who was causing the tension.

Anakin and Obi-Wan storm off down one of the corridors, and though you know it is rude to spy in on conversations, you only wanted to see if there was any way you’d be able to help. That and the fact that you just couldn’t help yourself, the SAS recon training made your skin itch with the need to gather intel, so, you silently watched from afar, keeping enough distance to make sure they couldn’t see you, but just close enough so you could listen in.

“What kind of nonsense is this, she is not trained in the form of Jedi, she will get killed out there, Obi-Wan!” Anakin boomed, his frustration clear.

“She is more than capable of handling herself, Anakin, trust me when I say that she will not be easily intimidated,” Obi-Wan instructed, placing a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, bringing them to a halt just next to a pillar.

“Yes, Obi-Wan, I understand, but she has no idea what she is getting herself into, she’s from another Galaxy for Maker’s sake! Think master, if she is to come with us, she must know,” Anakin demands. Know what?

“Anakin, I know. I do not feel comfortable bringing her along with us on this mission either, but her skill set is unmatched - she has experience beyond her years and her expertise could be game-changing!” Obi-Wan pleads, shaking the hand that is gripping Anakin’s shoulder.

“Game-changing yes, but she isn’t a Jedi, Master—how can we trust her?” Anakin whispers, he knows he is asking dangerous questions, but he cannot rid the fact at hand, you’re dangerous, and he doesn’t want to trigger a chain of unfortunate events which, he feels, the two of them will not be able to control.

“Anakin, please, she must come with us. This is a test of sorts, we must see what she is capable of so that we can react accordingly. Keeping her locked up in the temple will not solve the problem, only make it worse. We must realise her potential before it becomes unhinged,” Obi-Wan mutters. Unhinged…potential? What are they on about?

“Master, with all due respect, I do not feel comfortable fighting alongside a ticking time bomb,” Anakin snarls, his brows furrowing at the idea.

“Anakin, I do not appreciate your tone. She is not as dangerous as you are making her out to be, your ill-received emotions will only make things worse. You must have faith in me, young one. We must trust in the Force, she was brought to use for a reason,” Obi-wan insists, lining his voice with a bit more force this time, making sure his point comes across.

“I suppose you’re right Master…but that doesn’t mean I am comfortable with this, she still has—negative potential,” Anakin whispers, removing Obi-Wan’s hand from his shoulder and turning to step away, “I just hope you’re prepared to do what is necessary if she were to Fall, Obi-Wan,” Anakin mutters before completely turning away and leaving Obi-Wan alone in the hallway. His shoulders slump, and you notice that this is the stance of a beaten, conflicted man.

Without wanting to startle him, you slowly make yourself known to the outside world as you cautiously step into the hallway, bringing Obi-Wan’s attention to you.

You can practically feel the tension rolling off of him, and if the look on his face didn’t say anything, you knew that Obi-Wan Kenobi was in need of a hug. You slowly strode up to him, maintaining the soft, but stern eye contact to make sure that he stood in place and just as you were within reaching distance, you grabbed him, pulling him into your arms and wrapping him tightly in your presence. You tucked your head into his chest and listened to the slowly decreasing beat of his heart. He tripped back a little, and a small gasp left his lips, but just as quick as he had moved back, he moved twice as quick into your embrace, tucking his head down and into your shoulder.

Obi-Wan knew this was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t be seeking console in others, and that as a Jedi he should release these feelings of anger and frustration to the Force, not rely on the comfort of others. But it just felt so good to be in your arms, and for you to be in his. He’d not felt the warmth of a hug in too long, and since Satine, he never trusted himself to ever let go if he found himself in one again — and he supposes now that he should have listened to himself because, as time slowly moves on, his resolve on letting go of you is quickly wearing thin. He chastises himself for being so open and flirtatious, for insinuating plainly devilish intentions, intentions he is not sure he will ever be able to allow to come to fruition, intentions he wants but knows he cannot get.

“Obi, talk to me,” and that just about cuts it. The sweet, muffled voice grabs him by the heart and corners him — the empty, hollow shell of his capacity to care and love others is now being forced open and the sand timer has started ticking. He knows now it’s not a matter of if, but a matter of when. And that realisation alone terrifies him. He can’t lose another, he can’t go through that pain again. Too many times has the sand vial been broken, and too many times has it been hurriedly repaired and glued together, only for the missing pieces to allow sand to trickle out and collect in pools, sinking into hollow feelings of despair and loneliness. But now, you’re here, and the tighter you squeeze, the less sand falls from his grip. And so, he understands, it’s you that is keeping him together, it’s you that is allowing his version of time to return to normal, to reverse the entropy of darkness threatening to consume his soul.

“I—I feel so conflicted Amy,” Obi-Wan mutters.

“I, I think you know what you need to do, and I think you know that you need to be a bit lighter on yourself, to trust your instincts a bit more,” you say, trying to reassure him that his feelings are not invalid, “Sometimes, Obi, following the rules isn’t always the right thing to do. We learnt this the hard way on Earth, we all flocked like sheep to cater the needs of those who demanded it, instead of looking at the bigger picture and fixing the problem at hand. You are a wise man Obi-Wan, and I have complete faith in whatever decisions you make, you must let go Obi-Wan, let go of the feelings that plague you so new ones can heal you,” And you punctuate your meaning by squeezing just that little bit tighter.

Obi-Wan sighs, you were right. He had to let go of those past feelings and focus on the bigger picture. Grieving is a natural part of life, but the whole purpose of grieving is to feel and let go. Holding onto the past will only suppress the future, and he knows what he must do, he knows what is right, he just hopes that he has the strength to do it.

You tug on Obi-Wan a little tighter again, before letting go. You move your head from his chest, but bring your gaze back up to him, holding onto both of his biceps, you sigh, “I’ve never been one for politics Obi-Wan, but I have spent my fair share working under those that rule. You have a choice in this, I did not have that luxury. Do what feels right, do what brings you comfort, do not sacrifice your own needs for the needs of others who would not return the favour to you. Sometimes... you have to be selfish.” You finish.

Obi-Wan lifts his head and just stares at you. Everything you said was exactly what he needed to hear, exactly what he’d been telling himself but refusing to believe. But, because the words came from you, unprompted and honest, he must do his duty and believe them. Yes, he must do what feels right. But what he feels right now is definitely not what he should be thinking, as his attention finds itself upon your lips.

He’s drawn like a ship in a Tracta beam, he can’t look away. He wants so badly to kiss you, to take that pretty mouth of yours for himself. He wants so badly to show you how he feels, to show his hidden, deep desires to seek pleasure in you.

And you gaze up at him, following his attention and realising that he too is thinking what you’re thinking. Your heart is practically soaring right now. Never have you fallen so hard for someone, ever. You are just under some sort of spell, both of you frozen in time and not wanting to crank the lever to start it back up again; like entropy has met its equilibrium.

That's when you find yourself leaning up, pushing slowly on your tiptoes to meet the invitation of his lips. Except you can't, because Obi-Wan has stepped back, and has decided that now of all times is to fiddle with his belt and reach into his pocket and turn on his communicator.

Hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You get the hint. He doesn’t want anything to do with you. He just wants to wind you up, make you believe he wants you, and then leave you hanging, each and every time. Well, you’re not falling for it again. You know your way back to your quarters, and you know its best if you just leave without saying anything, making your way back to the privacy of your bedroom to seethe there.

But you don’t. You’re pissed.

“Fuck you.”

Obi-Wan freezes mid-conversation with Cody, who was just prepping the ship for departure tomorrow morning. His gaze cuts to you, eyes now alight with something you’ve never seen before, a darkened, slow-burning fire that all but fuels your own anger.

“Pardon?” Obi-Wan replies, sternly, almost inaudible. But you hear him all right.

“I said, Fuck. You.” And you punctuate each and every syllable.

“Excuse me, Cody” Obi-Wan says, and closes the top on the holo-projection, although his stare has not left yours throughout this whole interaction. Your heart is thumping now, to the point you fear it may actually pop out of your chest and run down the hallways due to the stress. But you're not backing down. You’ve been in some of the most dangerous, stressful situations one can imagine, and you didn’t back down then, so there's no way in hell backing down now. But, before you have time to counter, Obi-Wan has grabbed you by the arm and is hauling you down the corridors of the Jedi temple. You protest but punching and pushing at his grip — but its unrelenting, and the two of you just scramble against each other until you are yet again at the door to his quarters. The door slides open and he yanks you in, and just as the door closes you let all of your unbridled rage rear its ugly head. You twist out of his grip and kick him into the wall, bridging a few feet gap between the both of you. He recovers and goes to grab you again but you stop him dead in his tracks.

A feeling you’ve never felt before, something foreign, but…intelligent, alive, and very, very powerful. It's coursing through your veins now and it’s almost blinding you, and the familiar buzz of static clouds your mind and brings dark spots to your vision, but you hold out, you’re not done yet. You throw a hand out in front of you, splaying your fingers and forcing your palm in his direction, channelling all your anger and hurt in his direction, pushing him back up against the wall. Obi-Wan gasps as he is shunted back, the air in his lungs knocked out from the sheer blunt shock of your reaction.

Next, you grip your hand into a tight fist, and slowly begin dragging it towards you. Obi-Wan begins to choke, not from strangulation, but instead from the agonising pain of the force within him being torn and ripped from his control. You hold him there, in this complete state of distress, teetering on the edge of both yours, and his own self-control.

“Don’t ever touch me like that again, do I make myself clear?” You growl, your voice wavering and flickering a harrowing tale of hurt and anger.

“Y—yes…” Obi-Wan breaths out, struggling against the lingering pressure on his chest.

“If you don’t like me, Obi-Wan, stop leading me on. It is cruel.” Snarling this time, your emotions twist into excruciating hurt, the power you harbour intensifying and magnifying the bleeding ache of rejection.

“It's not that I do—don’t like you…I—Jedi are not…attachment is forbidden” he chokes, and just like a switch, the rage dims and Obi-Wan drops to the floor, gasping for air. He clutches his chest, but the pain is not the lack of oxygen, but more so the sudden influx of the Force surging back into his body. Like pins and needles in a leg, or a cramp, the feeling that returns is not unwelcome, but it is painful to say the least, even if it be temporary.

And that's when you realise what exactly you’ve just done. The guilt is unparalleled. It doesn’t matter if it is forbidden or not, it's the fact that he said no, he pulled away, and that your initial reaction was to act like a spoilt child and throw a tantrum, a dangerous, uncontrollable tantrum. The rage from before has slowed its pace, and now the heavy, leaded guilt sinks you to the ground. You have never reacted like this before. You’ve always had a close relationship with anger, but you’ve never let it rule you; normally you would embrace it and use it to your advantage, only to let the emotion slip away when the time had passed. But for some inexplicable reason, the moment he rejected you, you saw red.

“I—I’m, sorry, Obi-Wan, I’m so—sorry, I don’t know what that is, I’m so so sorry, please—,” You mutter out, still stuck in place. You gaze down at your hands and flex your fingers. Never have you done anything like that. But that isn’t your main concern right now, Obi-Wan is. You did this, this was your fault, now fix it. “Please, let me help you, I—I didn’t—,”

“Darling, it's ok, just, please…manage your emotions. I feel I am partly to blame for this too, I—I must explain myself,” Obi-Wan assures as he pushes himself up off the ground, brushing down his garments as a nervous response to the tricky situation he now finds himself in. He looks up at you and immediately his heart sinks. Your eyes are red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears, and you’re visibly trembling. He knows he owes you an explanation for his behaviour at the very least, “Why don’t we go and sit down on the sofa and talk this out, hmm?” He says, bringing an arm out as he cautiously steps forward, ushering you over to the sofa. You both sit, except you take extra care to sit on the opposite side of the sofa, leaving as much space as you can between each-other. You don’t want to hurt him again, and now you don’t even trust yourself to keep a tap on your own emotions.

You tuck your hands underneath your ribs and wrap around yourself, curling in. You feel so small now, so weak and miserable, it’s embarrassing. This whole situation is a complete and utter fucking mess, you’re a mess, your life is a mess. But you’re broken out of your self wallowing by a gentle hand, a lifeline, courteous of the ever-generous Obi-Wan. He pulls the closest arm out from its grip around you and pulls, slowly encouraging you over towards him until eventually your head is resting on his lap and you’re laying out along the sofa. One of his hands sits along the upper part of your waist, where his thumb leaves small, comforting circles on your trembling ribs, whilst the other slowly soothes your hair in gentle, passive strokes.

Eventually, you’re calm enough to reason, and Obi-Wan breaks the silence.

“It is forbidden for Jedi to have attachment… attachment leads to feelings of anger and jealousy, and therefore to the Dark Side," Obi-Wan starts, but you cut him off.

"You don't have to explain yourself, it's ok, no means no and I'm sorry I read things wrong, and I apologise for my language, it was most rude of me to address you like that, especially whilst you were mid-conversation," you sniffle, trying your best to hide the cracks of nervousness in your words.

"Amy, it's...it's complicated. I accept your apology, although I am sure Commander Cody found it quite amusing--," but before he can comfort you, your heart drops. Oh shit.

"C--commander?" you mutter, hoping that you just heard Obi-Wan wrong and you didn't just swear in front of a senior ranking official.

"Yes, Commander," Obi-Wan reiterates.

Oh, Jesus Christ. You've really blown the boat out on this one, what a fucking idiot.

"I am so sorry, Obi-Wan, I--," you stop, not wanting to dig yourself into a hole you can't get out of. Maybe you should take Frankie's advice and just keep your mouth shut, "so much for a great first impression," you mutter out loud. You've completely blown it. The room falls silent now, and you slowly allow yourself to revel in the calming touch of Obi-Wan. You get it, he's just being nice, being the gentleman he has been born and raised to be -- but deep down you don't want things to be that simple; you want him to want you, you want these small actions and personal moments to have an ulterior motive; to be for you because he feels for you, not because it's the right thing to do, but because you want to feel worth something, to feel like a possession and not an object. You've been nothing but a number, a tool in the rigorous machine that is violent politics for over a decade now. You forbid yourself from luxuries like a social life or sentimental connections, but you're not home anymore, you're in a completely different Galaxy. But life is never fair you reason; because even though you're ready to start letting someone in, they are not even remotely interested in returning the gesture. It hurts, but when has life ever been anything but painful for you? Looking back on it, what has your life been? You spent all those years 'doing good' and serving others, only to never have others do good for you; what's the point in living life if it isn't even yours to enjoy?

Life is just a vicious cycle of hurt and regret, and now more than ever you wish you pulled your own trigger all that time ago.

Obi-Wan has been quiet for some time now, and, now you focus again on your physical body, you notice his hands have stilled, resting peacefully on your head and shoulder. You chance a look up to make sure he's ok, and you're glad you did because Obi-Wan's head was leaned over onto the side of the arm of the sofa, completely passed out from sleep. You couldn't help but smile at his peaceful form; a couple of unruly tendrils of golden strawberry blonde hair tickling his forehead, and the painful lines of stress melted away, giving in to the smooth, tranquil blanket of serenity. He truly was a masterpiece, and he didn't even know it. You knew this man didn't reciprocate his feelings to you, through either his own decision or that of the Jedi rulings, but it didn't mean you had to be cruel, so, you just relaxed, fully indulging in the company of one another in the seclusion of his apartment, away from prying eyes and judgement.

You could go through the hurt if it meant you could have more moments like this -- this was worth it. He was worth it.

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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 4 years

Text

Thru the Window- Joe x Reader

(prompt: you're living in the Netherlands with the Def Leppard crowd while they're recording Hysteria. You're Joe's girlfriend, but you're both trying to keep your relationship a secret)

Inspired by the song "Thru the Window" by REO Speedwagon (a song about this ever so classic and adorable trope. I also tried to use as many of these lyrics as possible :3D)

------

(June 1986)

Joe's eyes shifted over to the clock on his nightstand yet again after another five seconds had passed. He just couldn't help himself. It was 11:22, and 11:35 couldn't possibly come soon enough. A warm breeze blew through his open window, hitting the bottoms of his feet as he lay flat on his back. There was adrenaline pulsing through him so ardently that he tried to will it away, but it was no use. He was too excited, and he had to wait at least another ten minutes or so before he could act on it.

His eagerness had certainly slowed down time itself tonight, and it had definitely gotten the better of him in multiple ways.

For one thing, his leg wouldn't stop bouncing. For another thing, he'd gotten changed far too early, and was laying on his bed in his date clothes. His "date clothes" (being a rather unflattering combination of a Cheap Trick t-shirt tucked into some sweatpants) weren't meant to be anything to look at, but he wanted to be as casual as possible. The goal was to be unrecognizable (as much as you could be at this time of night), but pleasing.

Either way, Joe knew you wouldn't mind it. To him, these 'dates' you two had weren't done for the looks. You saw each other enough that you didn't give a shit about proper attire.

Joe's hands were neatly and formally folded on his stomach as he stared up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. With nothing to distract him, his mind was on the verge of running mad. There were so many things he could've been thinking about as he waited, such as the tremendous progress that had been made in recording the new album, whether or not the jukebox at the pub got fixed yet, or what he'd have for breakfast the next morning.

What he actually chose to think of was "Why did I turn off the light, again?"

Some answers were quite simple.

"Oh yeah. Cos' to everyone else I'm 'asleep' right now."

The light being off was just a small but vital detail to the plan you two had for the night.

Once his own question was answered, his mind moved onto the next topic: another five seconds had passed. Joe turned his head to look at the clock again. 11:23. Great.

His head angled back upwards, seeing the imaginary dots and waves of colors appear before his eyes in the dark. His leg still bounced, his hands began to weave together, and he closed his eyes to hum the first tune that came to mind. It was necessary to drown out the sound of the ticking clock in his head.

Joe inhaled slowly, and held the breath for a quick instant. Just ten more minutes, he told himself. Ten more minutes, and then he could go. Ten more minutes. Ten. Two sets of five. Five sets of two. Just ten more-

"Fuck it," he lowly said as he sat up and put on his shoes.

Oh well. These dates weren't about being on time, either. 'On time' was late, after all. He wanted to decide when the time had come.

After slipping on his shoes, double checking that he had his wallet, and triple checking that his door was locked, Joe pushed open the window sash to create a more ideal opening to slip through. Into the darkness he went, out onto the fire escape, then he descended to the ground below. He began on the second floor, so each step lower was done with the utmost caution.

When he reached the next level, his heart jumped upon seeing the light still on in Malvin's room. Flattening himself next to the window, Joe carefully climbed over the railing of the fire escape and lowered himself down until it was safe enough to let go.

His feet met the ground, making a firm landing. He looked back up at the lit window and grinned under the open summer sky. He'd slipped away like a thief in the night.

Joe's legs began to move, trotting to the other side of the hotel (the side by the lake), and feeling the warm breeze rushing by his face. He couldn't help but smile; all his pent-up adrenaline was finally being put to use.

As always, he made sure to race for the shadows of the building to make a trail no one could follow. He was always beyond careful, making sure nobody would ever see or hear his driven intentions. It was better that no one knew. It was more fun that way for both of you.

Your silhouette became clear to him once he reached the other side, your window now visible on high. Joe slowed his run until he was a few yards from the base of the hotel. His head angled up to your room, taking note of the dim light from within. You weren't facing the window, but Joe knew you were waiting for him on this summer night.

He could've sworn he sensed your excitement, too; he could practically hear your heartbeat. It may have been his own heightened sparks of joy pounding in his ears- as he knew he was unarguably early. Still, date night was date night, and the singer was eager to kick things off. There was no time to lose. It was time to announce his arrival.

After reaching down into the grass and locating a small stone, Joe found a trajectory from where he stood, and flung his attention getter up at your window.

***

Your eyes shifted over to the clock on your nightstand once another five minutes had passed. It was 11:27, and 11:35 was just around the corner. Smiling, you turned back to your mirror and leaned forward, finishing up the last bit of your makeup. A warm breeze blew through your open window, lifting thin strands of your hair up to slightly flutter in front of your eyes.

It was true that you didn't need to dress up in any way, but your excitement had gotten the better of you. The plans for the night urged you to be dolled up at least a little bit. Who cared if it was going on midnight? You were still going out on a date, and you were still going to be in public. Some jeans and a crop top were just right for the occasion- with it being a warm and breezy night. The outfit was casual enough for the pub that you and Joe called your own, but flattering enough that you knew Joe would love it.

You drew back from the vanity and admired your appearance. Tonight would be great without a doubt. All there was left to do was wait for the man of the hour. Maybe you'd wait at the window and-

The sound of something landing behind you grabbed your attention. You turned and looked to the floor, spotting a small stone. Your eyes squinted from confusion, but your mouth angled into a smile.

To the window you went, and you gazed outside, seeing Joe down on the lawn below.

"Really?" you gently scoffed at him.

He looked a bit embarrassed, "Sorry! I didn't see it was open 'til it was too late..."

You chuckled and shook your head, turning back to stuff your wallet into your pocket and to switch off your lamp. With your room now dark, and your door locked, you slipped away through your own window, and made your way down your own fire escape.

Joe held out his hand once you were within reach, and led you down the remaining stairs.

You told him, "You're early."

He immediately retaliated, "You're lucky."

"How?"

"You don't have any acquaintances living below you," he tilted his head sweetly, "When I climbed down just now, Malvin was still awake. He could've caught me, you know..."

You rubbed your thumb over his hand and scoffed, "I doubt that- you're too sneaky."

"Could say the same about you, you know," he teased back, placing his other hand on your waist and moving in closer.

"That's why we're a good fit," you declared before moving your hand to the back of his head and kissing him. Another breeze blew around you both as he locked you in the embrace.

When it was broken, he quickly stepped back and pulled on your arm, urging you to come along jokingly, "Now quick, before anyone sees-"

He dragged you forward, adding, "I've got a good feeling the jukebox is gonna be fixed tonight!"

You laughed as you began to run next to him, both of you now running freely through the night in the open street. The energy between both of you was high, making it a thrill to be alive in that moment. Such high emotion was bound to make the date night better than it'd ever been, taking you both where you'd never been before.

Yes, you could have taken one of your cars, but then there would've suddenly been a higher chance of someone seeing that at least one of you was gone. It was just another minute detail to ensure the safety of your plan. Even the pub you and Joe normally went to was one that the others probably didn't even know existed.

The route to get there was a simple one; you always liked to say that it was "over the bridge, five blocks east, and down a dirt road that is barely a street". You were both still running when you ran over the bridge, eager to get to your relationship's safe haven. It was only when you reached said bridge that you slowed to a normal walk.

You hugged Joe's arm, laughing and panting as you crept around the neighborhood "It's such a perfect night- I'm so glad we planned a date tonight."

"Yeah, couldnt've asked for anything better," he grinned up at the stars, "We made an easy getaway, too."

"Not often we get nights like these. Remember the night you were in my room and Phil almost came in?"

Joe cackled up at the sky, recalling, "Ah- yeah, can never forget that one. We barely got away with that one. How did he not hear me talking?"

"I have no idea, but I've never hidden someone that fast in my life- let alone someone as big or as naked as you were."

"Oi!" he whined, "You want a date or not?"

You giggled and rested your head against his arm, "I'll behave, I swear."

"Good, cos' the fun hasn't even started yet," he warned, tenderly putting his other hand on your arm. In a few minutes, the dirt road was in sight, looking like a familiar and secret setting of a dream. At the end of the street, the glowing lights of the secluded pub were now visible.

"I'll race you," you smirked before bolting away from Joe and down the street.

Instantly, he bolted after you, "Hey!"

He caught up quickly (his long legs being an advantage), and stopped you by gripping the back of your shirt. He did his best to take you in his arms, but tripped in the process, sending you both down to the dirt at an angle. You both hit the ground laughing, rolling onto your backs and cackling up to the summer stars.

"Sorry-" Joe huffed. You both paused for a second or two, then he rolled over to quickly straddle and pin you to the ground.

"What are you doing?" you laughed at him, as if you didn't already know. He stroked your hair back with a loving smile, leaning down and softly kissing you. He was tender for only that second before kissing his way down to your neck, making you squirm underneath him.

"Ah- Joe!" you squealed, your face flushing up, "Cut it out! We're outside-!"

"Oi!" a different voice sounded off not so far away. You both turned your heads to see the owner of the pub standing out on the front porch, sending a parental scowl at the pair of you.

"Adrian- he's mad, I tell you!" you adopted a fake tone of helplessness.

"She started it," Joe blamed with a smirk.

"You two again, huh?" Adrian scolded you, "I'll be having no filthy business at the porch of my pub, you hear? Save it for the pool room."

"Yes, dad," Joe whined, shooting a cranky scowl down at you, rolling off and helping you up. You hit him on the arm playfully, him flinching at first, then putting his arm back around you. You both faced Adrian and began to walk up to the porch.

"I haven't seen the pair of you for almost 2 weeks, what's happened with ya?" he asked.

You answered, "Ah, studio troubles."

"And you're still keepin' this a secret, I take it?"

"It's the way we like it! It's more fun that way," Joe told him, " 'Our little secret' keeps the adrenaline going. Is the jukebox working again?"

"Been working since last week," Adrian's eyes followed you both as you edged closer, "Got 6 new singles on it now."

Joe's eyes lit up, "Oh, brilliant, which ones?"

"Ah, I can't remember, you'll see them soon anyway."

You got to the porch, Adrian holding the door open for both of you. With your date a threshold away, you stopped and asked him quietly with an air of implication, "Oh, also... when will the pool room be open?"

You looked at Joe with a devious smile. He returned it to you, beaming with similar energy.

"I can have everyone out of there by midnight if that's what you want, darling," Adrian gave a single nod, a glint of understanding in his eyes.

"No need to rush it, mate," Joe clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Take your time. We've got all night, after all."

"Well I've only got until 2:30," he warned, "So I'll let you kids know as soon as I can."

"You're the best," you leaned up and kissed Adrian's cheek, "Thanks for everything, as always."

"Don't mention it, love. You two be careful, now."

Both you and Joe droned as you walked inside, "We know."

With that, you both disappeared into the warmly lit building, feeling the summer heat as well as the heat of each other. It was always a dream come true with Joe no matter what; a dream with no one else to flaunt it at except each other, and it was more than enough.

Your own little secret world was just between the two of you, and that was the way you liked it best. That was all either of you really needed, anyway; each other.

The end

#def leppard #def leppard fanfic #original content #Joe x reader #Joe Elliott #Phil Collen #Joe Elliott x reader #def leppard x reader #reo speedwagon #i finished this in March but wanted to wait until the summer to post it flelllhpdlphphpd #I KNOW I ONLY WRITE/POST JOE X READER SHIT DON'T @ ME #I CAN'T HELP IT #i know this fic is really stupid but i immediately fell in love with this song & wanted to write some adorable aesthetic summer fantasy shi #and i want everyone to like this song too bc hhhhhhhhITCAPTURESTHEFEELINGOFASUMMERNIGHTANDILOVEIT

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ambivalent-anarchy · 5 years

Text

Party Games

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: Underaged drinking (but c'mon guys, they're like, highschoolers sooo)

Summary- [Y/N] plans a small get- together and forgets to tell Peter, but when he comes over to do homework and then stays for the party, she finds out just how fun Peter Parker can really be. Also Peter drinks for the first time haha

Bonus: Funny drunk Peter

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"Okay!," you said to yourself, rubbing your hands together while looking around your room. "We got chips, dip, LED lights, playing cards, uno, cards against humanity, music and..."

You looked around the room again, letting your arms fall to your sides. "Crap, what else?..."

You were throwing a party.

Well, actually just a small get-together.

...but everyone knows that basically means a party.

And this small get-together/party needed to be PERFECT.

"Alright... chips, dip, music, playing cards, LED lights, uno, cards against humanity, and..." you trailed off again. Why did it seem so empty? What were you missing?

"Drinks..," you quietly said to yourself, a small smile playing on your lips. "No party is complete without alcohol."

This par-..uh, small get-together was going to be a blast!

You quickly turned your head to the clock when you heard a knock at your door. It was only four o'clock. The party started at five. What frickin' grandma-time-moving person was at your door a whole hour early?

You opened while simultaneously rolling your eyes. "You're, like, an hour early.."

"No I'm not," a voice responded.

You looked up to see Peter Parker there in front of you. His eyebrows were scrunched up as he titled his head. He carried a small backpack.

"I always come around this time," he said, checking his watch. "D-do you need me to come back later o-or-?"

Realizing what he was talking about, you slapped your forehead. "Oh yeah! The homework!"

"I-I mean it's totally cool if you already did it!," he rushed. "Like, really cool! Cuz y'know, progress is, GREAT, y'know! And, um, you're really smart and stuff. Ha, I'll just go home and do mine and-"

He was so cute when he rambled, something he did the second anything went the smallest bit wrong.

"Pete, chill," you giggled. "I haven't done my homework yet."

"S-sorry," he stuttered. "So, do you still wanna go do that now or-?"

"Sure," you said. "But you gotta say you'll help me out, first."

"Yeah of course!," he smirked before tilting his head again. "Wait, with what?"

You laughed. "Just come in," you said, taking his arm and pulling him into the house.

After a bit of homework (mainly Peter breezing through it all while you copy his work), you and Peter picked up where you left off, setting up for the party.

"I didn't know you knew how to pick locks," Peter chuckled in awe as you used a hair pin to get into your parents liquor cabinet.

You giggled softly, rolling your eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Pete. Hey, you like Hennessy?"

The clueless boy stared back at you. "Uh, I wouldn't-"

"You ever been drunk before, Peter?," you asked, a small smile playing on your face.

"U-um. No," Peter responded, a little embarrassed. Given all the opportunities he had to, even with his Aunt May actually handing him some alcohol to try, Peter Parker had never tasted a drink. Not even beer or wine.

"Too cute," you snickered, shaking your head, unknowingly causing Peter to blush a bit. "Grab a few bottles, will you?"

"So is all of this," Peter said once you were back in your room. "For something special like a sleepover or something?"

You turned your head around the face him. "Wait, didn't I invite you?"

Peter shook his head quickly. "No." He wouldn't admit it, but when he walked in to see that you'd been setting up for some sort of event, he couldn't help but feel a little left out.

"Oh. Well you're invited," you said simply. "It's just a small get-together with friends from school."

"O-okay." He smiled. "I just gotta call May," he said. When you nodded, he turned away and pulled out his phone.

Immediately, he dialed Happy's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey Happy," he greeted. "Can I ask for a quick favor?"

"Depends on what it is, kid," Happy replied.

"I need someone to cover for me tonight."

"What?"

"On patrol," Peter clarified. "I need someone to cover for me. Just for tonight. I have something to go to-"

"Who is she?," Happy asked, failing to hide the amusement in his voice.

Peter looked back at you sitting on your bed. You were so cute. "W-what?"

"You never skip patrol for anybody, Peter," Happy said. "The only thing I can think of is you've picked up Tony's old habits of dropping duties for special girls."

Hearing that, Peter quickly looked away from you, as if Happy was somewhere hidden and he didn't want to be caught proving his words to be true. "What?! No, it's nothing like that! I just-"

"I'm just kidding buddy. Go on, I got you covered. Go kiss your girl."

"We're not gonna kiss!," Peter whisper-shouted.

"Hey, stay hopeful, kid. You got this!"

"Happy, we're not gonna-" CLICK. "Happy! Ugh.."

Hearing only a muffled fraction of the commotion, you squinted your eyes. "Everything okay over there, Peter?"

"Uh, yeah!" He said, turning around and putting his phone back into his pocket.

Ding-dong!

Both you and Peter looked up to the sound, and then to each other.

"It's starting!," you smiled, excitedly wriggling. "Alright!" You clapped your hands together then walked up to Peter. "We did everything, right?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

You gave a nervous smile. "This is gonna be awesome, right?"

Peter nodded again, giving your arms a reassuring shake. "This is gonna be awesome, [Y/N]. Now c'mon, we don't wanna leave them at the door."

MJ was the first to show.

"Hey MJ!," you yelled, pulling her in for a tight hug.

"[Y/N]," she blandly said, though with a small, lopsided smile. She looked to the side, a smile still on her face. "Peter."

"Hi," he smiled softly, his hands awkwardly in his pocket.

Ned was next.

"Hey [Y/N]. This thing's gonna be awesome!," he said walking in. "Pete!!!," he then said, practically slamming into Peter to give him a big brotherly hug.

Then Betty.

"Hey guys!"

Then Cindy.

"What's up?!"

Then Brad.

"Yo!"

Then there was Flash.

"Hey Flash!," you greeted, pulling him in for a hug, and even giving him a friendly high-five.

You were the only one that tolerated, or dare anyone even say, liked him(not in the interesting way of course). Sure he was annoying, but you didn't get the big problem everyone, especially Peter, had with Flash.

"Yo, PENIS PARKER!!"

...Or maybe you kinda did. It was just funny to watch Peter squirm.

He nearly tackled him to the ground and doing his arm around his neck. "Hey, your balls dropped yet? Haha!"

Peter gave you a quick 'why would you do this to me?!' glare before lowly muttering, "Hey Flash..."

Spin The Bottle~

"C'mon c'mon, lemme spin it!," Flash yelled. "I'm feelin' lucky!"

"Lucky?," Betty asked. "Who're you trying to get?"

"More like which one of you lucky ladies will get me?!"

"Get over yourself, dude," MJ scolded.

"Hey Pete! Why're you all the way over there?," you asked Peter, who was sitting on your bed watching the game from afar.

"I-I'm fine not kissing anyone..."

"PRUDE!," Flash yelled, pointing to the blushing boy in the corner.

Never Have I Ever~

"Okay," you started, looking around the circle. "Never have I ever...Oh! Here's a good one. Spoken to Spiderman."

Peter, MJ, Ned, and Flash put their fingers down.

"Oh wow, guys! Not fair! When'd you all get to talk to him?!," you playfully whined.

"Said hey to me on the street once," MJ said with a shrug.

"Saved us in Europe," Peter added.

"Gave me a high-five while he was swinging," Ned noted with a smile.

"Told me to watch out when something was gonna fall on me," Flash said, eyes sparkling as if he could actually see his hero in front of him.

"I mean, they don't call him the friendly neighborhood Spiderman for nothing, right?"

Paranoia~

"Alright guys," you said, running your hands together. "For the chaotic energy of this game to work, get by the person you think is the most annoying." When everyone just sat and stared at you, you rolled your eyes and clarified. "C'mon guys, I already know who just merely tolerates who, don't make me have to tell you where to sit."

Slowly and awkwardly, everyone sat next to someone they didn't prefer.

MJ sat next to Betty who sat next to Brad who sat next to Ned who sat next to Cindy who sat next to Flash who sat next to Peter.

"Oh, really?," Betty snickered next to MJ. "I'm definitely learning some things."

MJ rolled her eyes with a chuckle. "I don't hate you, Betty. I just like everyone else more."

Flash looked to the people on the side of him. Cindy and Peter. "...yeah I'm not surprised."

"I love you all the same," you giggled. "So I'm just gonna sit anywhere," you said as you sat next to Peter.

"So the way this one works is the person to the right of you is gonna whisper a question to you and you have to answer it out loud to everyone else in the circle. And here comes the fun part next..." you looked to Peter, your most easily embarrassed friend, to watch his reaction. "You get to decide whether or not you want to tell everybody what the question was. And if you don't, you take a shot."

Peter's eyes widened. "O-of what?"

Brad laughed. "What else, Peter? Alcohol."

"You guys cool with that?," you said, looking around the circle.

"Heck yeah!"

"Totally."

"Cool."

"Sure! Sounds fun!"

"Mhmm."

"Yep!"

"T-that's fine!"

"Oooookay," you said. "Um, Pete! You can go first."

You were on his left.

The circle watched as he leaned into your ear. Immediately you laughed. Once you stopped you answered. "It's been good."

"What was the question?" MJ raised her eyebrow.

"He asked me how my day was."

Flash laughed. Ned shook his head. MJ rolled her eyes. "That was the lamest-"

"I-I was put on the spot, okay?!," Peter defended.

"Well, you've got a whole round to come up with another one," you laughed. "An interesting one."

Peter nodded, racking his mind with more questions to ask you.

It couldn't be anything embarrassing like, "whose your crush?" (Though he secretly wished it would be him)

It needed to be cool. It needed to be sensible. But fun.

"Peter."

Peter's eyes flicked up upon hearing his name being said by MJ.

She was staring at him. "What was the question?," he asked.

You and MJ looked to each other, smiling after coming to a silent agreement of mischief.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna let you suffer," MJ told Peter.

Peter stared, his mouth agape. "Then drink up," you giggled while MJ took her shot.

"W-wait wait wait, no, you can't do that," Peter objected.

"Actually she can, Pete." You smiled a wide shit-eating grin, obviously enjoying Peter's torment. "And now you'll never know what I asked to provoke her to say your name."

"But-"

Cindy laughed. "Feeling paranoid, Peter?"

"Yeah, y'know just a little bit!" Peter's voice cracked as he felt a blush creep onto his cheeks.

Okay, well now he had to get back at you.

He stared at you intently, as the game continued. You were cute as an angel, but as mischievous as Loki himself sometimes, and usually to his expense.

But what could he say? He liked you.

He really liked you.

Before he knew it, it was Flash's turn.

He must've been really out of it if the whole circle had already gone through one round.

"Alright I got a good one, Parker."

"Great..."

Flash leaned in and whispered, "Do you wanna bang [Y/N]?"

Peter yanked his neck back immediately. "Whoa! Uh-um..n-no! Of course not! I so don't!"

"Calm down, dude!" Ned laughed.

"What type of question made you get like that?," Brad asked, almost killing himself with laughter.

"Then again, it doesn't take much for him to get like this," MJ pointed out. "Anyway, what was it, Peter?"

Peter looked to everyone in the circle. No way were they gonna hear what Flash asked him. He looked down at the shot glass in front of him. Everyone laughed and 'ooooh'ed as he quickly threw it back, coughing and hacking immediately after.

"Awwww! Baby boy Peter finally tasted his first drink!," you teased, poking out your bottom lip and wiping a fake tear. "They grow up so fast!"

"Okay, your turn, Peter," Brad said.

'Crap.'

He'd thought so much about the fact that he needed to ask you a crazy question to the point that he'd never actually thought of what the crazy question was going to be!

"Well, c'mon hurry up," you urged.

"Better not be lame," MJ warned.

Taking a quick breath, Peter whispered the first thing that came to mind.

"...Are you a virgin?"

Finally, it was your time to stammer. "U-uh, y-yeah.."

Immediately embarrassed, Peter slapped his forehead. "Dude, I-I'm sorry, [Y/N]. Please don't say the question."

Ned smirked. "Now I really wanna know what it is."

"I'm just gonna...," you trailed off before downing the shot, blushing profusely.

The night rolled on and the questions got weirder. As expected.

But one thing surprised you.

Whatever Flash had been asking Peter the last couple of rounds must've been really crazy stuff because your bashful friend was downing shot after shot. Of everyone in the circle now, he was in the worst shape.

Face beet red. Constantly going into laughing fits. Almost totally abandoning his sense of embarrassment. Shamelessly burping (with Ned more than ready to congratulate him for a "good one" each time). And no sense of personal space. When he asked you a question, he was practically kissing your ear.

The best part was that his questions started to get weirder and weirder.

"You and someone else in this circle have to be surgically bound to someone for the rest of your life. Who?"

"Who's most likely to commit manslaughter?"

"If Darth Sidious walked in here right now and ordered for you to kill someone, who would you kill?"

Most of his questions you told the rest of the circle, because they were just that hilarious.

The game was over now. Betty and Cindy went home. Ned was sleeping on the floor. Brad and Flash were quietly drunkenly chatting. MJ drew pictures of the boys drunk out of their minds.

"I didn't realize Peter was such a weird drunk," MJ laughed as Peter began to loudly hum Star Wars melodies.

Flash let out a big burp, laying on the floor. "I think drunk Parker is better than regular Parker!"

"Totally," Brad agreed.

Peter was laying on your bed, mumbling towards the ceiling.

You, also a bit drunk, walked over to him. "Hey Pete, you okay?"

He didn't turn his head but moved his eyes to look at you. "Wow. I'm drunk." He moved over, leaving room for you on the bed. "And my head really hurts."

You hit his stomach. "Well, yeah dummy! That's what happens when you take so many shots!" You rolled your eyes, laying down so that you were laying down beside him, both of you staring up at the ceiling. "Why did you do so many anyway? What type of stuff was Flash asking?"

"Don't worry about it," he mumbled rather quickly. "I'm so tired right now. This bed is so comfortable. Can I sleep with you, [Y/N]?"

You paused. Of course he didn't mean it like that but still, Peter was asking to sleep with you. And he was too drunk to be embarrassed about it.

OF COURSE he could.

"Yeah, sure," you said, like it was no big deal even though this was literally the guy you crushed on for the longest time. "No problem."

Later, MJ, Ned, and the other boys left.

It was just you and Peter now.

He had been done ranting about Star Wars hours ago and was now just staring at the wall. He finally broke the silence as he said, "I don't think I like alcohol very much..."

"You say that," you said. "But I can almost guarantee that you'll be getting drunk again someday." You blew out a tired breath. "And I'll be there to watch you act a straight up fool when you do," you chuckled.

It was fun to see this side of Peter. This carefree, nothing to lose side. You knew that you wouldn't see it often. It's not like you could keep him drunk 24/7.

"Can I hug you?"

You turned around to see Peter staring at you with big puppy-dog eyes. "W-what?"

"Hug- can I hug you?," he asked. "Please?"

"Uh, sure," you replied.

Slowly and clumsily, Peter wrapped his arms around you. "You're so soft and squishy," he giggled with a short hiccup at the end, making it fifteen times cuter.

Of course he'd freak out the second he'd wake up to find himself practically spooning you. And you'd deal with his stuttering and stammering later. But for now, you could definitely enjoy a drunk Peter snoring into your ear.

"G'night, Pete," you whispered, laughing quietly as he mumbled his own goodnight into your ear...

#spiderman mcu #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman fic #spiderman #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel fandom

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nosferatyou · 5 years

Text

Top Yourself (Jack White x Reader)

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You’re the bassist for The Raconteurs opening band, over the tour you and Jack haven’t been on the best terms. At their next show the two push each other just a little too far.

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, y’all), cursing, dom-m. If you're under 18 please don't interact! Thank you!

Authors notes: Alright first smut, you guys. This took me wayyy too long to do but here it is. Honestly, I could've done worse. And sorry it isn't great for all the people here for my great content, but a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. Also, the amount of Jack White fics that are on here is sad, if I'm not wrong this is the only one. He’s hot as hell its surprising that there isn't more here.

Jack was weirdly quiet today, and to be honest it was freaking me out a little. Usually, he is nitpicking everything I do, onstage or off, if not that then he is always making conversation with someone on the bus. But today he is quietly sitting in his normal seat, with the same book he’s been trying to read throughout the whole tour, and sunglasses inside to top it all off. Which isn’t uncommon with jack and typically isn’t bad news, but today it radiated off different energy. He was cranky over god knows what and was trying to hide it, though his seemingly unending scowl was a dead giveaway. The perfect time to fuck with him as always.

“Hey sunglasses, it seems you didn’t get the memo.” I put my bass down and leaned back into the small couch.

He didn’t look up or say anything, just let out a small huff of annoyance, so I continued.

“They used to say if you make a face for long enough it’ll stick. I never believed them, but with all the time you spend making that face I have to assume it’s stuck.”

HE huffed again, still not looking away from his book. “Fuck off, Y/N. Not right now.”

I chuckled and quickly responded, “Ooh the town elder speaks. I thought us youngsters had to be respected by the elderly or was it the other way around?”

I got up from my spot and sat across from him in the small booth across from the couch. When I sat down I read the title of the book, finally learning it after all this time. I chuckled again and said, “It seems that every dad reads World War 2 books any chance they get. It’s like they read it specifically for the moment when someone asks about some obscure happening. Or is the only way we can get into the great beyond is by knowing everything that ever happened during those few years, and only dads know the key.”

I snatched the book out of his hand and blankly read over the pages, mainly just trying to get any reaction out of him I could.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled “Jesus christ, Its likes having a child on this bus 24/7.”

I closed the book and stuck it next to me, and more importantly out of the reach of Jack.

“You didn’t answer me. Is the second world war the only chance I’m getting into heaven or are you in the secret dad group for weird world war 2 facts?”

He ignored me, “Can you just make this easy today and give it back? I don’t feel like dealing with your childish antics.”

He stuck his hand out like I was just going to give it back. I’m too annoying to do that.

“First off you’re only 13 years my senior so how childish can I really be?” He just huffed and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms, keeping his cold presence.

“Secondly, I’ll make it easy since you seem so…” I waved my hand referencing his stoic frame

“Crotchety.”

He didn’t budge, but I swear I saw his eyes roll. I was also not going to make this easy, obviously.

“Alright Ill bite what is it, Y/N?”

I smiled and leaned into the table. Letting my already lowcut shirt fall even lower, very purposefully showing off my cleavage. We’d been teasing each other so much over this tour I had to fit as much as I could into the little time we had left. I saw his eyes flicker down to my chest.

“What were you going to say after that show in San Antonio the other night, and don’t lie we both know you know what I’m talking about.”

I wasn’t even going to try and hide my smirk. I had no idea if he was going to actually answer, especially over some random ass history book.

Over the past few months, we’d been teasing each other. Sure with thrown around insults and tiffs, but we both know we’ve been saying or doing stuff to make the other flustered. But the more we did it the less we hid it. Hell, the amount of times id “accidentally” backed into him while bent over backing up some gear was countless. Same goes with the number of times he’d practically backed me into a wall during our arguments, both of us fuming and almost eye level with each other, each time he gets so close I can practically feel his breath on my face. Though we’d barely touched, excusing all the accidental run-ins the only time it was normal was the handshake we shared when wed met. Ever since that it’s been nonstop teasing. Back in Texas, we’d found ourselves bickering over I don’t even remember what after a show. I do remember him backing me into a wall. You know as usual. This time he was hopped up on adrenaline and his pupils were blown out. Our faces were practically touching, his heavy breath fanning across my face. He leaned in to whisper something in my ear, but before he could get it out one of his band members walked into the room. As fast as it happened he was gone and I was left hot and heavy, alone in the room.

He seemed to wince when I asked the question like he was expecting it but still not ready for it. He kept his composure though, to the unblinking eye this all would’ve seemed normal.

“Come on, Old Timer. Judging by your face I know you know exactly what I’m talking about. Reveal your true intentions.” I teased, the smirk still plastered to my face.

He broke his stoic composure, a small smirk spreading across his face.

“I don’t know how long I can take this bratty behavior anymore, Y/N”

I shifted in my seat, I definitely wasn’t expecting him to say that.

“Aren’t brats supposed to be punished?” I questioned, crossing my legs under the table. “Accidentally” running my foot along his leg.

He quickly sucked in and leaned forward against the table.

“You’re testing your limits, girl.”

Our faces were mere inches apart. His once cold aura was now warm and confident. He knew he already had me pistol-whipped.

I reached my hand underneath the small table to find his leg, slowly running it up his thigh. His body froze under my contact but didn’t pull away from my touch.

As I got closer to his groin his hand suddenly snapped to my chin, pulling my head up to face his, us even closer than before.

“That night, in San Antonio, I was going to finally take you up to my room. Do what I think we both want.” He let go of my chin and reached into his pocket, grabbing a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it up.

“But after all this… bad behavior I think ill make you wait.”

He took a drag, slowly exhaled, then looked me up and down without shame, taking in my frame. He glanced down to his watch then stared back at me, with his sunglasses I couldn’t really catch what he was feeling.

“You’ve got soundcheck in 30 don’t be late.” He said like it like we hadn’t had the conversation before.

And with that, he was gone. Leaving me high and dry in my seat, alone.

------

Soundcheck went normal as always, the boys and I played, did some shameless day drinking and hung out backstage. I kept a lookout for jack throughout, but he never showed. I don’t know where he disappeared off to, but I wanted to get back at him for earlier. Leave him feeling as I did. I searched backstage for a couple of minutes, but he was nowhere to be found and If I didn’t start getting ready now Id be late. That gave me an even better idea though. If I couldn’t get close then I’d have to get a rise out of him from a distance. Over the tour, I’d noticed a certain outfit that he’d stick around for more. A denim jumpsuit that was more often than not fully unbuttoned and paired with some random bralette, by the end of the set the top half is haphazardly hanging off my hips. Can’t blame the bassist for wanting more movement. Jack’s patterns aren’t hard to track, plus every time I look backstage his eyes are glued to me. Tonights the perfect night to pull it out again.

---

I, of course, put on quite the show during our set, I had to make up for the fact that I was the bassist. People’s eyes always wander to the guitarist. I thrashed around for the majority of the set, messing with our singer when I could, and pulled my signature move. It was more helpful than it was for showmanship, but I’ve been tearing up my fingers on my right hand from playing so much. So throughout the set ill seductively stick my middle finger in my mouth and slowly pull it out and return to playing. It’s honestly a quick fix for some relief, but it pulls out some reactions from the crowd as well. This time when I did it I caught Jack’s eyes from the stage, this time he was sunglasses free and fully dressed for the show. Sporting his classic all-black ensemble, topping it off with a leather jacket. I threw him a smirk and returned to my playing, still feeling his eyes practically burn a hole through me.

As planned id wriggled my way out of the top half of my jumpsuit, really egging it on, making a show out of it. I’m surprised management hasn’t said anything about it because it’s borderline stripping. I played as hard as I could that night, and Jack’s eyes on me only pushed me further. I’m known to be pretty high energy on stage, but I was going so hard I knocked over a mic stand or two. I about took out our singer when thrashing my bass around. Most of all I put on a subtle show for jack. Bending over in his direction, subtle looks being thrown his way, and of course, keeping Jack’s unblinking eye over my body as I strip my jumpsuit half off. I practically had him wrapped around my finger.

When we finally finished up our set I walked right past him, not even looking him in the eye, but a smirk couldn’t help but creep across my face.

After some waiting around he finally went on, and wow. He was really putting on a show tonight. Jack always goes on with as much energy and gusto, that’s why there is a bit of time between the opener and the main band. He is backstage with a red bull or whiskey in hand, breaking whatever he can with a baseball bat. He wants a good show, and to do that he brings out whatever emotion he can out of him. Tonight he brought the whiskey bottle with him on stage so this should make for a good show.

He made that stage his own, of course, the rest of the band killed it, but Jack was on another level. He played the shit of his guitar, throwing it around when he played, and all the while sneaking shots from the hidden whiskey. He slowed down for “Top Yourself” but he was practically buzzing with energy. He seemed more into the lyrics than he had any previous night, all of them dripping with passion. He seemed so loose and into the music that his focus was anywhere but the crowd. While he seemed so tapered to the ground his face read something of chaos.

I was so lost in trying to read him that I hadn’t noticed that he was slyly looking my way. A smug grin appearing on his lips as he sang “How're gonna get that deep? When your daddy ain't around here to do it to you?” Leaving the mic stand to jump into an impromptu solo.

After all, I teased during my set it only seems fair hed return the favor. I just didn’t expect it to have as much as an effect as it did. As I watched him play the realization set in. I couldn’t take much of this teasing anymore. Every night we parted ways without saying a word but left to revel in all we did that day. Tonight that’s going to change.

----

After it the show we all sort of rushed out of the venue, while we usually hang out for a bit to avoid the crowd, Jack was adamant about just going to the hotel. He seemed… heated. He was oddly quiet, he’s usually talking to everyone about everything. When he did respond it was snappy and rude. Nobody could catch a break. Tonight is just continuing to get progressively weirder.

As much as I wanted to go through with my plan I was honestly pretty nervous to go through with it, especially now that jack has gone into angry hermit mode. I stayed out of the way as best as I could, which for me isn’t normal, I try to butt myself into conversations as best I can. Jack can only have the spotlight for so long.

When we got to the hotel I was the last off the bus and was doing my best to maneuver my bass off the bus, but in the process, I about took jack down in the process. As I was rounding the corner to exit the bus I checked behind me to make sure I didn’t leave anything. Jack had stopped in front of the stairs suddenly and I knocked my bass into his back when I walked down the steps.

“Fuck! Y/N, I swear to god haven’t you done enough tonight?” He exclaimed.

I rushed off the bus to jack, being careful of my bass this time and set it on the ground. “Oh shit! Jack, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you okay?”

“You should be sorry.” He mumbled.

He seemed visibly annoyed, he didn’t seem in any pain, but his already irritated look had deepened. Which oddly sparked something in me. I know I had just rammed my bass into him, but when jacks been unforgiving all night I can’t hold back.

“Jesus whats crawled so far up your ass tonight that you cant have a sliver of kindness, huh?” I spat. My meekness suddenly taking a 180. I stood up straighter in front of him, my eyes burning when they met his.

He seemed taken aback by my sudden reaction, but it didn’t take him long to spit fire right back. “You slam your bass into my back and you get mad at me? Stop acting like a child Y/N!”

“Maybe you’re just used to everyone kissing your ass cause you’re “Jack White,” but I’m sick of your fucking attitude. Especially tonight.” His looming figure towered over me, he stared down at me with an unreadable intensity. I held my ground.

He took a step towards me, causing me to step back, my back running into the bus. He calmly puts his hand behind my head, leaning against the bus and closer to me. My breathing became heavy, I stared down at the ground, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Stop. Acting. Like a. Brat.” He spat, leaning his face closer to mine. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating off him. The smell of cigarettes lingered around him wherever he went.

I didn’t answer, I was so caught off guard I could barely react, but he didn’t give me much time to respond. He gripped my chin and forced me to look up at him, his eyes were lustful and his pupils blown. His breathing was ragged and hard, matching my own.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, girl.” His behavior tonight started to make more sense when I thought overall our interactions. A smirk formed on my lips and I came to my senses. His hand found his side when I finally answered.

“ Aw, you’re all frustrated because you were left horny all afternoon arent you? And now you’ve finally found a reason to make a move. Can jacky not handle it?” I was starting to feel fearless. I knew exactly what pushing his buttons would lead to.

He pushed in closer to me, he was frustratingly close to touching me, yet he was just far enough.

“I think.” His face drifted closer, and his nose just barely touched my cheek, his breath fanning across my face. “You thought you were being cute with all your teasing, and that just won’t do. Won’t it darling?” He whispered against my skin. His left hand found my hip, tightly squeezing it.

A small whimper left my mouth and my eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the sudden grasp.

“I think you were being a fucking brat who should be put in their place.”

Adrenaline pumped through my whole body as his face drifted closer to my neck. He moved painfully slow, his mouth ghosting across my skin. He was so close I could practically feel his lips curl into a smile. We both knew the moment you had any contact there would be no turning back, nothing would be the same. Both of us were holding our breath in anticipation.

Finally, he slowly pressed a kiss to my neck, almost as if to test the waters. Suddenly he sank his teeth in and sucked at my neck, a moan instantly leaving my mouth. It quickly turned into a crescendo of breathy moans and rough kisses down my neck. I was just falling into a rhythm until he suddenly pulled away to meet my eyes, both of us panting hard.

“Why don’t we go up to your room so you can put me in your place?” I daringly asked him, the same come hither stare in your eyes that I had this afternoon.

Both of us grew more and more desperate as we made the trek to his room. We couldn’t seem to look at each other in the elevator, but I was practically buzzing in my spot. Ready for the moment when we do finally make it to his room. Ready for the anticipation to dissipate.

The moment the door closed his lips were on mine, feverishly kissing me. He wasn’t delicate those few moments before, but he wasn’t rough, that quickly changed. He pinned me against the door and grabbed my chin, forcing my head upwards so he could expose my neck again. He left hot, opened mouthed kisses along my jawline and neck, before sinking his teeth in and sucking again. His sudden roughness brought a moan from my lips.

The adrenaline kicking in, I pushed him off you and wrapped my arms around his neck. Passionately kissing him while leading him back to the bed. My heart was pounding over the sudden switch of control, but I knew it wouldn’t last long.

He pulled away from the kiss and intertwined his hand with my own, a small smile on his lips. “You’re all talk, darling. Let me make you feel good.”

He led me to the bed and slowly pulled my shirt off of you, his once ragged look was now sultry. His long curly hair was wild and his pupils were blown, but he was so calm it made him even more dominating.

I made my way off the bed onto my knees in front of him, the same playful smirk as before crossing my face. I reached for his zipper, unzipping it painfully slowly, keeping my eyes on his the entire time. My hands rested on his thighs for a moment, he nodded as if to say it was okay to proceed.

I pulled down his pants just enough, leaving him just in his boxers. Looking forward, the nerves finally hit me the moment I saw him, but I didn’t let that stop me. I pulled them down revealing his cock, already painfully hard and swollen. I gave his face one last look to make sure and he nodded again. Slowly, I licked up his member until reaching the head, sinking my lips onto the tip.

His head fell back and a sigh escaped his lips, “Mm good girl.” His hand entwining itself in my hair, resting it there.

I sank my mouth down on the rest of his cock and ever so slowly working back up, my tongue dragging along the protruding vein. Carefully, I sucked on the tip, my tongue circling around it as well. Finding a good rhythm then repeating. Getting more into it, I found a slow rhythm. Still, I just barely sped up and teased him as much as I could. I wanted to make him squirm underneath me.

I suddenly took in as much of him as I could, catching him off guard, a louder groan escaping his lips. His hand in my hair tightened its grasp, directing my head to go faster.

My hand grabbed the base of his cock and followed upwards with my mouth, twisting my hand slowly, I could feel his cock twitch in my hand. I got faster and faster until I had your rhythm down. He moaned in response and so did I.

“Oh fuck, darling. That’s it.” Jack groaned when I sped up even more. I felt myself grow wet at his words.

Slowing once again, I ran my tongue from the base to the head, smiling when I looked up at him. His breathing was heavy, his chest heaving up and down. He pulled me up from the ground and pushed me back on the bed, my breathing now just as heavy as his.

“Take them off and scoot back for me, darling.” He asked me before quickly stripping himself of his clothes.

As quickly as I could, I pulled off my pants, bra, and panties. Discarding them on the floor below. As I scooted back to the headboard I finally got to really take in his naked form. His arms were the first thing I focused on, the muscle was always prominent from years of playing, but unclothed they were even better. His frame wasn’t thin, but he had a simple dad bod and it was definitely working for him. Along with me he quickly threw his clothes to the floor and went to join me on the bed.

“Be a good girl and spread your legs for me.” He said slowly running his hands up my bare legs, stopping at my mid-thigh. The way he handled me made shivers run up my spine in anticipation.

I gave him a sultry look and spread my legs, all there for him to see. Jack was laying in between them, his hands softly running up and down my calves, then up to my inner thighs finally. I wanted to hide the fact that I was quickly falling apart at his fingertips, but it was getting harder and harder.

He carefully dipped his head close to my heat, staring into my eyes. My heart was beating so fast I could barely hear him ask “Fuck, darling. You’re practically dripping. Is this all for me?”

All I could muster was a quick head nod, too focused on the man whose face was dangerously close to my pussy.

He ran a finger from my heat to my clit, rubbing frustrating slow circles, a smirk playing on his lips. The sudden contact from the alabaster man brought a quiet moan from my lips, doing my best to hold it together.

“Answer me when I ask you a question, baby.” He growled, his face now hovering even closer.

His rhythm ever so slightly speeding up, I moaned out “Y-Yes. “

“Yes, what?” He playfully asked, Now speeding up even more. He practically had me wrapped around his finger.

“Fuckkk. Yes, Sir.” I said breathlessly.

“That’s my, good girl.” He said quickly, before wrapping his hands around my thighs and started sucking my clit. A shamelessly loud moan left my mouth the moment he made contact with my heat. His tongue lapping at me and his hands tightly gripping my thighs were enough to send me over the edge.

My hand flew to his hair, moving it out of his face and gripping tightly. His eyes met mine and I about unraveled at the sight of him, a soft moan leaving my lips. That only egged him on, I felt his right hand leave my thigh, shortly after one of his fingers slowly entered my heat. Leaving me seeing stars.

“Oh, Jesus Christ- !” I moaned out.

His lips sucked on my clit as his digit slowly pumped in and out of me. It all turned into a fast crescendo of moans from both us, I was squirming under his touch. His moans only made me feel even better, feeling the vibrations with the already intense pleasure.

“Fuck, Jack. Please.” I said breathlessly. I needed more but was ashamed to admit it.

He suddenly stopped and brought his head up, his chin slick with my juices. “What is it, baby? You want something you have to ask for it nicely.’

Teasing me, he rubbed his finger through my slick folds. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving in so quickly, but fuck. I wanted him so badly, and his teasing wasn’t helping anything. He cocked an eyebrow and pulled his hand away completely, forcing a whine out of me from the lack of contact.

“What’d I say? Use your words, darling.” He teased with that stupid smirk coming back to his face.

I couldn’t take it anymore, “Just- Just fuck me please. I don't think I can take it anymore.” I whined, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“That wasn’t too hard now was it?” He teased. He climbed on top of me, quickly wiping his messy chin with of his hand. Sliding a hand from my hip up to my breast playing with my nipple, making me let out a soft whimper and buck against him.

He hastily dove in, kissing me without any hesitation, still playing with my breast. His tongue slid inside my mouth instantly and I definitely didn’t mind. I ran my hands from his chest to his neck, desperately touching him anywhere I could. Finally threading them in his long curly hair, wanting to keep him as close as possible.

This was different than our previous kisses, they were quick and careless. He took his time with me, his hand now cradling my face, his thumbs lightly swiping across my cheek. It was the sweetest moment we’d had with each other.

“Mm, Darling I’ve thought about this since we’ve met.” He pulled away for a moment to look at my face, his fingers tangled themselves in my messy hair. A small but noticeable smile on his face. “You ready, baby?” He asked, reaching down and slowly dragging his cock through my slick folds.

I looked back up at him and quickly nodded my head. “Jack please, I want you so bad. Please.” His teasing made me squirm beneath him.

He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss before saying, “Been such a good girl for me, spread your legs baby. Let me give you what you deserve.”

Before I knew it he was painfully slowly edging his way inside of me before bottoming out. The both of us letting out a low groan at the feeling. His hand wandered down to my breast, slowly massaging before I spread your legs more, trying to take him in as much as possible.

He sucked in a quick breath of air and mumbled “Fuck, baby you’re so tight. You ready for me to move?”

His head hung down, his breathing still slower, but each breath made his chest heave. He was being so incredibly soft and sweet tonight, but I needed more than that. Pulling him down by the forearm I hastily kissed him. “Jack, please. Don’t hold back.”

He didn’t need much convincing and quickly slammed into me. A slew of curses quickly came from my mouth, my fingers gripped tighter in his hair. His head rested in the crook of my neck, leaving messy kisses all over, as his hips drove into me harder and harder. Thank god the headboard was attached to the wall or else the neighbors would’ve had something to complain about.

“Baby you’re taking my cock so well, such a good girl.” He praised, practically moaning through his words.

He leaned up and made space for his hand between the two of us, touching me as he pounded into you. All of the pleasure at once made me see stars, it felt as if the air had left my lungs for a moment. It was almost too much to handle.

I raked my nails down his chest, easing the intensity of his pleasure. Soft groans had turned into load moans leaving my mouth. He wasn’t shy about being vocal either, not afraid to loudly moan next to my ear. It only turned me on more, I could feel my own wetness coat my thighs and his groin.

I was already starting to get close, everything about him was just making the experience even better. His wild hair sticking out every which way, the feeling of his hand gripping my collarbone, the soft feeling of his nose brushing against my own. I think he was starting to get close as well. He looked up at me and his once pale complexion was now pink and flushed, glistening with sweat.

Our rhythm together was starting to get faster and faster, each thrust sending me further over the edge. He bent down and swept me into a deep kiss, our two bodies moving in tandem. He quickly bit my lip then released to give me one last love bite before I was seeing white. My body practically lost feeling for a brief moment before I came down again, a string of curses following. I didn’t want it to end, but as I came down I swear I was seeing floating colors.

Jack groaned and leaned up to look at me again, his breathing was ragged, he almost seemed out of breath. “Y/N I’m gonna come.” He moaned, still keeping up his pace.

He quickly sped up, a slew of curses coming out his mouth, and his eyes were tightly shut. I felt his fluids flow into me, filling me up. He let out a low groan and slowly pulled out, laying next to my tired body. Both of us covered with sweat and completely out of breath, our chests heaving up and down.

I moved to my side and wrapped myself around him, he was quick to wrap an arm around me, letting out a long sigh.

“I think that’s the nicest interaction we’ve had to date” I breathlessly laughed out.

He let out a small chuckle and hummed in agreement. “I suppose it was.”

“I have a feeling it won’t be our last “Nice interaction.” I mumbled against his chest.

“Funny. I was thinking the same thing.” He leaned over and gave me a small kiss on the forehead. “Now let’s get you cleaned up, darling.”

#jack white #Jack white x reader #jack white smut #jack white fic #one shot #my fic #top yourself #the raconteurs #he makes me say oof #like chest i make an audible noise if i see a particulary nice picture of him #anyways hope no one thinks this is weird #boy is such a dom but like #bet hes got a sub side to him #jack white let me dom you #the white stripes

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