#they never overlap; someone is always left behind. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orangeave · 2 months

Text

all the places light does not touch

wednesday addams x gn!reader

summary: there are places in wednesday that the light doesn’t touch and she can’t help but to put you in all of them.

words: 4.2k

orange speaks: final part to the great war (part one | part two). damn, it's been a hot minute, huh? apologies for the wait, but i hope y'all will enjoy this last installment.

Gravesoil clings to Wednesday’s nail beds, a desperate plea scratching against her vocal cords that she will never admit to beyond this moment. You are mumbling to yourself, a language she’s never heard of slicing through the quiet; the mother tongue of the beast that lingers in places she cannot reach nor see. Wild, bloodshot eyes survey the empty space in front of you and veins crowd underneath your lashes. There’s a pause before you hunch over, hands reaching up to grasp tightly at your head and –

Wings ripple out of tearing flesh, blood soaking the floor underneath her former lover’s feet. An ominous, onyx liquid takes over the whites of your eyes, dripping slowly down the apple of your cheeks and leaving dark tear tracks in their wake that trail pass a shuddering throat.

How foolish she was to forget what lays dormant beneath your skin, waiting to unleash itself upon the world. Control was hard fought and just barely won after each battle, a traumatic fear for the possibility of a blood-curdling outcome hardening the usual soft color of your gaze.

Wednesday had always been there to placate the darker side of you but times were different now. The consequences of her wrongdoings were forming; in the shape of elongating teeth, in downy feathers expanding to three-times the length of your arm span, and in horns spiralling to reach the sky above them.

You were horrifyingly marvellous.

Gone is the fear from before, an innately evil force hunkering down to take its place. Tendrils of hellfire coat your skin in a blaze of heat that Wednesday can starkly feel, wraiths rising from the puddles of crimson ichor that is still shedding and staining ghoulish flesh. A sinister grin warps your features into a gruesome mosaic and she is wary of the scheming tug to your lips.

“Do you feel it?” You rasp, multiple layers of cadence making your voice echo and overlap into something otherworldly. Wednesday’s brows pinch, a frown of incomprehension downturning the corner of her lips. “The inevitable culling of this night, can you feel it?”

“Enough. You’re talking nonsense.” She sneers.

A shiver caresses the curve of her spine when you sigh solemnly in return, the ground trembling beneath your feet as you glide closer to her. Your left hand lifts and fingertips that resemble claws leave behind rivers of blood as you skim her jawline, thumb tucking into her jugular before the entirety of the extremity encloses around her throat.

The touch is light, there’s no weight in the action but Wednesday chokes all the same. A primal instinct of survival urges her to fight the hold because while running has never been in Wednesday’s repertoire, the need for bodily autonomy will always remain. Personal space is sacred when the world longs to claim and taint everything she’s ever come to own.

Nero; a first companion forcibly taken by the will of another.

Tyler; a first kiss lost to the lips of a monster.

You; a first something she’s afraid to name with an end she’s yet to come to terms with.

Each one is a death with its own cause and reaction but they all drive her further away into solitude, into a body built too big for her bones.

There’s a light within her that flickers and spiders which crawl from crevices dug into ivory calcium, seeking the warmth that it offers – it never lasts, they scurry with every faltering glow and Wednesday is left with the echo of an ancestor, of a destiny meant to be spent alone.

Be it by her hand or someone else’s, the truth of her fate lingers.

Still, the scraps from the before she seldom acknowledges; when words meant to burn were just measly thoughts to create distance and a twin heart still laid next to hers, where a sense of forever was yet to fade and hope, however gross the negligence of it was, was able to reach even the unlit corners of her, craves to forget – just for a moment – that this is who she has to be.

For everyone’s sake but most especially yours, Wednesday scatters those scraps until they exist in locations that are inaccessible, even to herself, and no one suffers more for it than she does. So, as she swallows back the bile of her desires, her tongue is sour with bitterness and syllables formulate an acrid speech that tries to chase away the taste of all that she wants but cannot have.

“All I detect is your feeble minded attempt to frighten me. You’re a bleeding heart, Tesoro, we both know you’re too soft to follow through with your meagre threats. You never were tenacious enough to do what was needed to keep me, this is no different.”

Regret is immediate; acid does not eliminate bitterness, it only serves to make the taste resonate deeper until she’s choking on the foul filth of an inescapable death. The true difference between you, she realizes, is that she’s not capable of being selfless without leaving scars on the ones she’s trying to shelter and that your way of being selfless only leaves you with more.

A thick smog of shadows gather in the atmosphere, sharpening your features and maniacal laughter washes over the cusps of Wednesday’s eardrums. Her pulse jumps and she just knows that you felt it because your grip on her throat tightens at last, unapologetic nails becoming a barbed wire necklace that itches to splay her tendons for the world to witness.

“Oh, Mulsa, that’s where you’re wrong.” You tsk with condescension. “Everything is different. I’m finally who I was always meant to be, existing outside of the fear that plagued me, and it’s all thanks to you. I have embraced my destiny, can you say the same?”

Mockery drips from your words and her reality suddenly shifts as she finds herself in a castle that assembles itself with a swish of your wrist. It reigns beautifully decrepit in nature; rotten beams of wood rib the frame, moss rests in divots of cracking stone, and moonlight glints through openings in the ceiling. You casually lean against a gothic throne of skulls that no one sits upon and Wednesday transforms into a court jester, in the presence of a lowly regent who pretends that they do not pull all of the strings behind the scenes.

“How long do you think you’ll last in this kingdom of solitude, Wednesday? Who else will you hurt in your quest for knowledge? And do the answers you find at the end of it all outweigh the expense others have to pay to get you there?” Your voice rumbles, ricocheting off stone walls before striking her exactly where you know it will hurt most.

Color touches her skin for the first time, anger and humiliation mingling to create a red sheen on pale flesh. It’s a sort of wickedness she never thought you to be capable of but perhaps she should have seen it coming.

“None of that is relevant.” She whispers harshly.

“Isn’t it? Am I not the cataclysm of your choices? Is this not me paying your dues?” Massive charcoal wings beat; once, twice, three times – they propel you upward, high into the air and tree bark horns tilt your jaw back with their weight. Specks of blood rain down from the force, painting the surrounding layout maroon, dousing Wednesday in turn. You bare your arms outward, showcasing your new form to an audience of one.

Crisp, off-white linen hugs the muscles of your torso while the sleeves furl at each elbow. Three buttons are undone, revealing a prominent collarbone and a smooth expanse of skin. Dark beige slacks loosely clutch to long legs – one slightly bent at the knee, toeing the edge of the other as you hover in place. You are all neutral tones with monochromatic undercurrents, eyes drowning in a void of black reeking of judgement, and vibrancy is lost to a death by her own hands.

Wednesday licks her lips, catching droplets of metallic liquid on her tongue. Stagnancy overrules the scent of trees in the foreground and there is no reprieve as she suffocates on nothing but the truth. Her resolve is crumbling; you may not be a ruler of this kingdom but you do have an undeniable deathgrip on her heartstrings. If you were anyone else, that fact would be revolting.

“Unless,” a pause. “Maybe this is what you wanted. You always did love everything dark and twisted.”

Slowly, you descend in front of her and there’s a soft click as the heels of your dress shoes settle down. Dust kicks up into the air, your wings breezing along the floor, and you wordlessly take four shallow strides around her. You come to stand behind her, breath fanning over the sensitive stretch of her neck. She can see you no longer but just your presence in itself is taunting.

There’s a brush of fingertips against her back, nudging her forward and before long she arrives at a set of steps. You shove her up them; the action makes her stumble and her balance is lost to the last stair. She falls into the vacant throne, which she now realizes belongs to her. Twin knees scrape the edge, making her body twist to relieve the pain and sit properly.

Indignation rises to the surface at the mistreatment and Wednesday tries to swallow it, to keep away words that will only perpetuate this discourse, but it’s fruitless. “My proclivities aren’t your concern. Up to this point, every decision you have made has been solely yours. I am not to blame for your indiscretions.”

“Perhaps.” You nod, standing resolutely at the incline up to the throne she sits upon. “Truly, I’m not here for placations or reasonings. You are partially correct in assuming that this,” your hand waves around your form, “is not the inner workings of your… machinations.”

“Then why? What is this macabre display for?” Wednesday interrupts.

None of it makes sense; how easily you forfeit your earlier claims.

“Because, in the end, this was never for you.” You start, something dark creeping along your legs. It rises to dwarf your already tall stature and features are slow to form but when they do, they are wholly monstrous and deeply unsettling. There is absolutely nothing in this world that compares and warning bells screech a dizzying spell of the danger to come should Wednesday choose to misstep in its presence.

Exaggerating steps loosen the hold it has on you, materializing into translucent flesh, and your body is distorted to her as the being stands in front of you. An arm raises, travelling up to your chest, and stuttering in wicked glee before plunging in. You gasp loudly, figure hunching over, and the being forces you straight with its free hand at your shoulder. With a dramatic flair, it rips its fingers out and they do not come back empty.

Without care or regard, the beast walks away from you, and the sight that greets Wednesday grips her with terror. The facade of power fades to nothing and you are left human but skeletal. Wings, horns, the black void; they’re all gone, and exhaustion coats your dull eyes, your knees buckling to the floor. Falling forward, your shoulders rise, head ducking low as nailbeds of blood trace the cracking stone of the floor. Convulsions attack your spine, driving a body of bones further into the ground.

“A distraction,” The beast rumbles in glee, an olden accent curling over its words. “To pull you away from the truth.” A bleeding, bruising heart rests in its palm; dark blotches covering the organ and Wednesday finds it disconcerting the way they pulsate, widening with each heavy breath you shudder. “We finally understand now; love is a weakness. For children who still play with toy soldiers, dreaming of the day they will change the world. It’s quite humorous, don’t you think?”

And there, right then, despite your best efforts to play it off as something else, Wednesday finally sees the evil for what it truly is: self-preservation. It is protection, disguising itself as rage. It is guardianship, shouldering all that you cannot and turning it into power. It is the heart in a beast’s hand, with a cage that moulds along its edges that wills itself not to break any further.

Red teeth gleam up at her, a grotesque smile staring straight through her, and dissuading her attention from the creature next to you. “I never wanted to change the world, Wednesday, not really anyway. But I did want you – not just the good parts but also the pieces of you that raged in contempt. I wanted the entirety of you: your doubt, your fear, your selfishness; the thousand-yard stare, the tempered soul, the frostbitten heart. I wanted the girl who despised even the thought of love.”

“No.” Wednesday utters except it’s too quiet, caught in her throat.

“God, Wednesday, I wanted it all – everything you were willing to part with and nothing more. Yet, you turned your back on us and you didn't even have the decency to give me a valid reason why. I deserved better than a half-assed excuse as to why it had to end. But it’s okay. Blame is a two-way street and I was wrong too. I pushed and ignored every warning sign, dancing along boundaries and fed into your suspicions without a need to prove myself to be on your side.”

“No.” She tries again.

(Still not enough, still on the cusp of- of-.)

“And I guess, this is all to say that we both had a choice and perhaps we chose wrong, though maybe the cards were always stacked against us. Now here we are, forcing each other to relieve it all over again, and it’s time to put an end to this. We finally get to have what we tried to cheat each other out of. You finally get to be free and I finally get to say goodb-.”

“No!” The single word rips and tears and mutilates her throat in the effort to leave the confines of her voice box. All her life Wednesday has been toeing the line between devastation and freedom, a weak grip on her inhibitions, always viscerally trying to prove something or another. Until a sick sense of clarity washes over what this all means; one more loss, one more all alone, one final nail in the coffin.

A death to rewrite all the others.

Falling in love with you was like falling asleep, gradually then all at once, because it crept along the edges of her vision until it was too late and despite her aversion to it, it was warm. And the days that followed were everything she thought herself to be incapable of; the quiet nights, the sound of rustling sheets as she wrote pages upon pages on her typewriter, the dulcet tones of you humming along to vibrating strings, the laughter without reservation, the eyes full of a home made just for her, the hands that held her softly in the dark.

And then, of course, the self-sabotage set in. Her wants and desires took a backseat to make room for fear, and somewhere in the midst, the ease of your love made way for her doubt and she swears you both lost something that day. The person she became to combat her loss of control isn’t something she’s proud of but maybe… maybe this is the part where she pleads with you to understand. Where she lays everything on the line; all her misgivings and the lies she tries to tell herself to circumvent all that she does not understand.

When your eyes cut across her own, you look at her like you know, and the uncaged beast only laughs as your features close themselves off from her once more. The vulnerability seeps out, draining from trembling, bloodsoaked fingers, and replacing itself with indifference before Wednesday even has the chance to rearrange her thoughts into coherency. The pleas building in her throat die, falling into the void of every other thing she’s left unsaid.

How repulsive.

Wednesday’s jaw clenches at her own inadequacy, teeth clicking in time with her shallow breaths. Hands of ice grasp tightly at each other while she tries to reform the truth she’s been meaning to say. It’s time, she attempts to coax herself. No longer will she bow to her lesser qualms.

Enough is enough.

“You were wrong.”

A feigned grace pulls her from the throne, rising up and carrying her down the steps that will lead her to you. Firm resolve weights each footfall to the stone beneath Wednesday, laying the groundwork for an outcome that doesn’t end with ties severed indefinitely. A disgusting amount of trepidation still lingers menacingly, but not for prior reasons. It washes over her because she knows that if she doesn't get this right and you walk away from her once again, it will be for the last time.

As she reaches you, the beast rears up into the space between you, your heart ducking out of sight with a single movement. Up close, Wednesday can see the second the previous glee renders itself obsolete, paving the way for rage to form in its stead. Translucence melds into mortal flesh in an instant, further providing a barrier to you and it’s features constantly flicker; sweeping into each other, refusing to commit to a lone one.

All of it is a warning: for you may have never been able to truly hurt her, but this beast holds no such inhibitions. And yet, Wednesday ignores it, skirting around the form with a brief flicker of eye contact. Rolling coals follow the movement, a sneer deepening the gouges at the corners of it’s mouth. Heat steadily rises at her back when she kneels before you, gaining in temperature, and a hearth set ablaze licks the skin of Wednesday’s nape, until sweat lines her hairline.

“Before,” Wednesdays continues despite the duality of the cold shell holding your gaze captive and the heat at her back, her fingertips fluttering around your body but never settling. “You said you’d never be good enough for me.” A scowl crawls into her features, disdain vaguely clinging to her words. “You were wrong.”

Confusion briefly overcomes the frost but it’s not enough. You flinch with every syllable, as if her words still burn; like your flesh is a step away from igniting and she’s dousing you in lighter fluid. A battlefield sprawls before her, all of her own making, and each word is a precarious mark upon the earth, hidden with landmines Wednesday tries to sidestep.

Wednesday thinks this might be part of her destiny that Goody forgot to mention – truth be told, self-loathing is akin to starvation; the hunger pains force you to eat yourself from the inside out until nothing remains. Perhaps that’s the most tragic intricacy of her fate, to commit atrocities for the sake of others' preservation, and to suffer all the more for it. Now, trying to find the medium between the two banks entirely on her willingness to push aside everything she’s ever thought to know about herself.

As Wednesday gazes upon you; you with the sunrise in your eyes and the red candle wax burning lips, she clings to the notion that it isn’t the dying that scares her, but the insurmountable loneliness that follows in the wake of your departure. It is hollow and damning because you are attempting to leave, in more ways than one, and she is running out of options that will force you to stay.

Longing breaches through the whisper of her words, “You were too much, in all the soft ways I desire to detest. Too good, too simple; too easy to love. And so, I wanted-” Wednesday’s breath falters, fingers folding to tear at the lines of each palm. “I wanted to make you pay, for forcing these ugly emotions upon me. I never wished to feel the juvenile propensity to need you, in all the foul ways weaker beings fall victim to. Yet, it is those feelings that beg of me to forfeit this charade, because, for however seldom I say it, I do love you.”

Finally, Wednesday reaches for your hand, knuckles scraping along the stone to slot her fingers between your own. “I’m in love with you, and it is all-consuming, vile, and entirely effortless. I may not know how it will end, but I believe there exists a place out there built just for the two of us; one that is otherworldly, and beautiful, and so, so alive. Destiny be damned.”

Wednesday watches as your eyes crawl the length of her face, an unreadable expression marring the expanse of your features. A shudder partly pulls your body away from her, a heavy exhale escaping your lips. She can’t tell whether her words were well received as you hunch your knees under your chin, cradling your elbows around the edges of your calves. Just as she goes to continue, desperation clinging to the fraying ends of her sanity, your free palm craters the ground beneath you.

Long forgotten wraiths spiral into view and confusion tears her form upwards onto her feet, unwittingly losing the grip she has on you. They begin to chase her and the ground beneath her feet zooms out of focus as she tries to get away. They’re faster, upon Wednesday in mere seconds, and then she’s falling, falling, falling, and for a long moment nothing comes up to catch her.

Yet again, the scenery of the throne room changes and she stumbles to her knees in a foreign land.

Grass bunches up between her fingers, wet and coarse, and a graveyard looms before her. Each tombstone lining the distance is marked with a name, cementing every loss she’s ever faced; not just of people, but places and emotions too. A beat passes before you appear at her side, steps away from an open casket set six feet in the ground. When she shuffles up to unsteady feet, the body within it looks suspiciously like you.

Your voice carries on the wind, circling her as you murmur, “What if you’re wrong?”

There’s a slew of answers on the tip of Wednesday’s tongue, but most fall short, never quite encompassing what she truly wants to say. One, though, rises above the rest, so simple it makes her want to scoff. Instead, she pushes the sound down, and in the midst of the words that follow, a part of her realizes that she’s finally learning; understanding. There are things in the world that you need not fight, nor feelings that are too childish to accept. Some things are just simple; easy.

“But what if I’m right?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Wednesday sees you sway slightly in place, her words – honest at last – completely sinking in. With a noticeable limp stuttering your footsteps, you gradually move in front of her. The tips of your dress shoes scratch along the edges of her own boots as you eliminate every ounce of Wednesday’s personal space, your arm rising up in her peripheral vision. Hesitation faults the movement, and she recognizes the doubt for what it is: a fear she never meant to place within you; of her reaction, of her motives, of her.

With time, she promises to herself to put all of her wrongs right, but for now, she gently latches onto your wrist, bringing your hand down to rest on the underside of her jaw. Your eyes flash with recognition before your forehead descends upon hers, a shaky breath exhaling against her lips that sounds like an okay. Suddenly boneless, your body sags, shoulders loosening as your other arm reaches around the small of her back, tugging her into you.

You hold onto Wednesday tighter than she ever had the audacity to covet her desires and she cannot deny the sense of home that follows.

Without fear, her feet lift up, gaining a slight height advantage to place a lingering kiss atop your head, but a figure drifts into focus before her eyes can close. The beast faintly shimmers behind the tombstone with your name on it that fades, a neutral expression on it’s face. It watches Wednesday closely, eyes of coal simmering into ash as it takes in your figure so entwined with her own. Your heart still resides in it’s palm, but even from here, Wednesday can gauge how loosely it’s grip is. A nod of a head and a quirk of lips beckons her, once last time, to take in another truth.

Love has many faces, and seldom are they seen clearly.

Your heart finds its way back to its home as the beast settles, slowly descending in height, and it’s features melt into a vaguely familiar countenance. It is you, but aged, with laugh lines marking the corners of your eyes, and a nostalgic smile at the cusp of your lips. And it is an echo, of both your and her future, teetering on the edge of a forever that will soon be fully earned.

( – there are places in wednesday that the light doesn’t touch and she can’t help but to put you in all of them.

but then you learn to become the light, and all the dark places shine.)

#jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams imagines #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday addams

193 notes · View notes

maelialuv · 2 years

Text

Call It What You Want, Steve Harrington

Summary: Going to a party at your bully's house had to be your worst nightmare come true. But you know what they say; don't get over someone, get under them.

Warnings: SMUT! slow burn filth. I need a hot shower level. breeding kink if you squint. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!) fem!reader :)

NOTE: some characters have been aged up, like chrissy, so that everyone is in senior year at the same time :)

Word Count: 5.9K

You loved a party. Couldn't get enough of the heat of a group of people, the roar of laughter overlapping with the excited chatter of friends reuniting. The inevitable crash of dropped glass making the whole crowd hush before resuming their nestled talk. You were, in every sense of the word, a party girl. But that wasn't always the case.

Before this year - your senior year at Hawkins High- you'd been riding the coat tails of your childhood best friend, Nancy Wheeler, all throughout your school life. You were the sad little puppy that followed her around, but Nance never minded. She was always happy to have you by her side, or just behind her. Everywhere she went, you were there a few seconds later. That was until she started hanging out with, and later dating your sworn enemy.

Steve Harrington.

The guy had tormented you since middle school, along with his minions Tommy and Carol. The two of you used to make fun of people like them, stuck up and out of touch, and then she became one of them. Just like that. You could tell she felt guilty, by the way she would send you a furrowed glance at lunch as if to say 'I'm sorry, I have to!', like she had no control over who she surrounded herself with. As if she had no choice but to curl up beside the guy that broke your elbow in seventh grade.

Like she couldn't help but fall into the arms of the guy that had made your life a living hell for more than six years.

You still occasionally spoke to Nancy. After all, you lived across from one another, and thus had to see each other at some points. She would sometimes invite you to study, but you had started to make excuses after you had seen Harrington climb the garage roof and into her window, not liking the thought of his impulsive tendency for a romantic rendezvous interrupting a study session whilst you were there. You didn't want to put Nacy through the grief.

Your 'Lost Lamb' persona left you the moment you started hanging out with someone you never thought you'd consider a friend in your wildest dreams, or nightmares, Chrissy Cunningham. Expecting her to be a total Queen Bee, she was nothing of the sort. She was warm and kind and sisterly, all the things you missed from your friendship with Nancy. She sat with you at lunch, went to the movies with you, and eventually secured you a seat at the table with the rest of the cheerleaders, their boyfriends and the rest of their gang. They welcomed you with unexpected sincerity, and that was that.

You started going to house parties on Saturdays, diners on Wednesday nights with the girls, study sessions with some of the basketball team that couldn't quite pass a class or two. People waved at you in the halls, remembering your name for once. You and Chrissy would have sleep overs, and you felt the hole in your heart that Nancy left slowly start to heal. More or less.

But then you got that stupid invite.

"Gotcha!" Chrissy closed your locker door, scaring you senseless.

"Jesus, Chris!" you stacked your books in your arms. She was smiling wide, as always, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What?" you said, a raised brow and half a smirk making its way across your lips.

"Before you say anything, just let me talk," she made tiny praying hands to her chest, puppy dog eyes gleaming. "Promise?"

"Okay," you sighed.

"There's a party this weekend, and we're all going, and we all really want you to come." You looked at her with raised brows, as if to say 'go on?'. "It's Steve Harrington's party."

You'd managed to avoid almost every one of Harrington's parties with some believable, and some not so believable, excuses in the past year since your surge in popularity. "I don't know, Chris, I'm so busy with college applications this weekend-"

"Who needs them!" she cried, "We all know you're gonna get into Yale or Hardvard or Brown or whichever super crazy smart college you want to go to." She grabbed your hand, swaying it back and forth, like a child begging their mother for a candy bar at the grocery store. "Pretty please?" she did the puppy eyes again, knowing it would sway you to agree.

"Fine."

"Yay! I'll come to your house at nine tomorrow to get you!"

And that's how you found yourself in your old bullies house, red solo cup in hand, full of whatever lethal punch one of the football players had concocted. Already tipsy, lingering by the kitchen so that the constant stream of drinks wouldn't slow. Bodies moved ungracefully around you, shimmying and shoving through to the living room or to the ruckus of the back yard where people were throwing each other into Steve Harrington's large pool. You sipped on your drink thoughtfully, feeling the confidence built over the last year slip away from you as you returned to your old wallflower state.

"Why are you hiding in here, silly?" Chrissy came to your side, the shimmery pink eyeshadow on her lids making her green eyes luminous in the low light of the kitchen. "The gang's all next door, come on!" She grabbed your hand with surprising strength, dragging you into the large living room. Deep sofas lined the walls, each with a basketball player and their girlfriends curled up on one. On the one furthest from you, was Nancy and Steve. Next to them, Tommy and Carol. It made your stomach turn to see her with him. You avoided her persistent gaze. But Harrington's gaze, raking you in and eyes darting up and down, was harder to lose. He stared at you adamantly.

When the buzz of chatter died down, a few of the basketball players and their girlfriends left to find more entertaining activities, it was just a handful of people left in the living room. Including you, Nance and Steve. Tommy had the glint of wicked amusement in his eyes, and it made you uncomfortable. "I know what we should do," he said, eyes falling to you. "Let's play a little game." Carol perked up beside him, as if their minds were connected in some twisted way. "Yeah, let's do something fun."

"Games, come on guys," Jason, Chrissy's boyfriend, spoke up. "We're not in middle school anymore." Carol got her own wicked smile.

"Oh, certainly not." her eyes fell on you , analysing how your style had changed. You were wearing dark make up, smoking out your eyes and giving them an alluring pull. You showed off skin, knew how to present yourself. Her eyes narrowed, her smile a venomous sneer. "No, if this were middle school, I wouldn't be caught dead at a party with her."

You simply cocked your head to the side, giving carol a tight lipped sarcastic smile. Inside, you felt thirteen again. Instinctively, you grabbed your elbow, as if you could feel the pain of the break there now. Tommy barked out a laugh at Carol's comment. "Yeah, who knew the black sheep would turn into a black swan, huh?"

You felt gross as he raked his eyes over you, unashamed as he stared at the place where the hem of your dress ended.

"Fuck off, Tommy." you retorted, voice calm but heart racing a million miles a minute behind your ribcage. You felt like you were a lamb on a platter for the lions, ready for the slaughter.

"She speaks!" Carol squawked. Next to them on the couch, Nancy squirmed. Never one for confrontation, she excused herself to grab a drink. You caught her eye as she left. She looked guilty. You wanted to follow her, grab her by the shoulders and tell her to wake up. Tell her that her friends, and her boyfriend, were assholes. But she never listened before. She just couldn't admit it to herself.

"Been a while since we've seen you, babe. Where've you been hiding those legs, huh?" Carol smacked her gum as she spoke, obnoxious and loud.

"I found some better people to hang out with." Beside you, Chrissy stuck her arm over your shoulder. Her face was hard. It made her look older, the serious glare that she was sending Carol. Carol sneered at her, and the expression aged her terribly.

Steve caught your eye, shifted hard away from Tommy. He was gripping his beer with a tight knuckled grip. His eyes slithered down your neck, over your chest, and landed similarly to Tommy's. You grabbed the hem of your dress and yanked downward.

"One of the cool kids now, are you? Not following Wheeler around like a dog anymore?" Tommy took a long sip of his beer.

"We drifted apart." you said simply.

"Oh yeah? Since when?" Carol chimed in again and you felt your blood boil beneath your skin. Steve continued his obvious oggling.

"Since she traded her spine for a shiny new basketball player"

Nancy stood by the door, drink in hand. Her eyes were wide, like a deer in headlights. The whole group erupted into astonished laughter, Chrissy struggling to hold back as she clutched her stomach. Steve glared at the floor, as if willing it to say a comeback that would sting you back. Nancy sat down beside him, silent.

"Woah, you gonna take that Wheeler?" Carol guffawed.

She remained silent as a mouse at Steve's side.

"Nance was never one for speaking up anyway. "

You grabbed your cup and flittered out of the living room, the atmosphere suffocating you. You needed another drink, a cigarette, and some alone time. Drink secured, and obscenely strong, you crept up the stairs to the second floor. Once you found a room that didn't stink of puke or had two people sucking face in, an ensuite bathroom, you locked the door and sat in the tub.

Shutting the shower curtain, doc martens resting on the taps, you lit your cigarette. You still couldn't believe you were in Steve Harrington's house - let alone one of his bathtubs - after everything that went down all those years. Yet there you were. Nancy lost to the dark side, you in with the cool kids. Your middle school self wouldn't believe it. You rested your eyes for a moment, breathing in the smoke and taking gentle sips of your drink.

Your thoughts were interrupted by muffled yelling in the next room. You stubbed out your cigarette, trying to get out of the tub as quietly as possible, when you heard your name. It was Steve and Nancy, and they were fighting. About you.

"Why are you bringing this up now?" Steve said, exasperated.

"You guys were awful to her, Steve!"

"Yeah, like you did anything about it, huh Nance?"

You recoiled back into the tub, feeling invasive but caring more about what Nancy had to say for herself than your moral compass. It was a years' worth of pain cementing your form in the tub, ear preened toward the doorway.

"You tormented her!"

"And you watched! If anything, that's worse!"

"How is that worse than what you, YOU, did to her Steve?!

There was a pause. You could imagine Nancy's face; pouted lips, furrowed brow, cheeks blotchy from an ill-fated attempt to hold back her angry tears. Steve laughed humourlessly. It was a cutting sound, and you could hear Nancy take deep breaths.

"What we did, sure, it was stupid. Do I regret it? Of course, we never meant to get her hurt back then."

"You're still awful to her!"

"And there's the kicker," Steve chuckled darkly. "She always stuck up for herself. That's why we did it, we knew she'd give us some fun." There was a long moment where no one spoke. "You never stood up for her once, Nancy."

His words hung in the air like smoke, seeping into your clothes and clogging your throat.

"You never defended her, then or now."

Nancy was flustered, stuttering over her words.

"You never stood up for your best friend? Thats...awful, Nance."

You could hear as Nancy struggled to find a defence, as she used to with you. She would blubber to you, relaying how guilty she felt with enough tears that you eventually ended up comforting her, forgetting that you'd even come to her for help.

"Fuck you, Steve." You could hear as she grabbed her things, storming out of the room with vibrant language. The loud declaration that "it was fucking over" made a laugh - vindictive and partly delighted - rise in your chest.

You smacked a hand over your mouth in realisation. Your movements froze, fear jolting through your bones as you heard Steve pattering about the next room. His movements stopped abruptly as your foot knocked a bottle of shampoo off the edge of the tub.

In a split second - idiotic- decision, you decide to make a run for it. You rip back the curtain, jumping to the floor and striding for the door, the door you had so stupidly locked. A warm hand grabbed your wrist in a vice like grip.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

His voice was low, deep. It echoed in your chest. It made your heart thump. It made your blood boil.

"Get your hand off me." you seethed. His grip remained, making the skin of your wrist tingle. His touch was firm yet feather light. Unwilling to let you go, but not trying to hurt you. When his hand remained unmoving, you struggled against his grasp. "Get off, Steve."

He was leaning over you, shoulder blocking the door. He hovered above you, taunting, as he looked you over again. His gaze was relentless, inescapable. Confusing.

"Let go, Steve." You sighed out, defeated and embarrassed as he held you in place. You felt unnervingly calm. Strangely glued to the floor under his honey brown eyes as they bored into your own. You wanted nothing more than to move your feet - maybe stomp on his own so he would release the grip on your hand- and get out of the claustrophobic bathroom. You risked a glance up at the boy.

Christ.

Steve was never unattractive. Never had an awkward phase. He was always tall, athletic and tanned. Your hatred for the boy hadn't blinded you to the painfully obvious. But in the dim green light of the bathroom, shadows accentuating sharp cheekbones and jawline, you saw it. Saw it as the other girls did. Steve Harrington was gorgeous. He was painfully attractive, in every sense of the word. From the symmetrical lines of his cupids bow to the dark lashes framing honey eyes, he was hypnotic. And he had you completely under his spell.

"How much of that did you hear?"

His voice was aggravatingly quiet, gentle. Intoxicating. There was a gap between the two of you, small enough that you could feel the warmth of Steve's breath on your cheek as he spoke. You felt like a child being scolded by a parent, guilt driving you to complete honesty. It was the same tone that would make you confess to a teacher, had the same soft lilt.

"Enough." You replied, and your voice was hoarse. Rough, like you needed water desperately. You did, you felt as though your throat was bone dry. "Enough to hear you chew out Nancy."

Steve's eyes were inexplicably soft as he looked at you, and at the mention of Nancy they hardened almost imperceptibly. "Yeah, well," he sighed, languid and frustrated, "that was gonna happen, no matter if it was about you or not." When you raised as brow - both in shock at his willingness to detail the state of his relationship, and as a sign to continue- he went on. "All we do is fight."

"Hmm."

""What?"

"Karma came and bit you both in the ass."

The look Steve gave you made you feel bad for saying it, but it was overruled by the vindictive joy you felt at hurting his feelings. The way he backed up slightly, as if he'd not expected you to say something, made your heart jolt a bit. He'd been so awful to you for so long that the knowledge of his relationship being far from perfect made a smile creep its way across your lips.

Steve huffed, frustrated again.

"You are incredibly hard to understand." He said, the same sickeningly sweet voice at play. "You're very different...to how you used to be."

"You mean I'm not a loser anymore?" You quirked a brow.

"You were never a loser," he stepped closer to you, hand still on yours. "You were just...," he trailed off. His gaze was unashamed, staring straight down at your lips as he spoke. "Different."

'What a crock of shit,' you thought. This coming from the guy that bullied you all throughout middle school, even through high school. it was the biggest load of bullshit you'd ever heard. But your ears rang with the rush of blood behind your ears as your heart hammered inside your chest. Steve Harrington was a flirt, and a good one. You were experiencing his best lines. And they were working.

"Different?" there was hardly any space between the two of you now, Steve's lips brushing over yours as he shifted. You didn't stop him when his hand brushed your sides.

"Yeah," the hand that had been holding your wrist against the doorknob came up to cup your cheek. Steve's top lip was on yours as he spoke, "different."

The two of you crashed together with teeth and lips, a brawl of desperate hands and angry grudges. Fingers tangled in hair immediately, tugging and scratching. Steve tasted of smoke, beer and something innately Boyish. His hands settled at your waist, grasping the fabric of your dress there. His lips were pillowy and soft, addictive. You suddenly understood why Nancy put up with it; kissing Steve Harrington was like having your own personal drug. The kiss deepened as you shifted heads, turning for better angles and access.

Steve groaned as his tongue slid across yours, and the way he so clearly enjoyed the kiss made you feel powerful. He backed you up against the bathroom counter. "Jump," he whispered, your bottom lip between his teeth as he nipped the skin there. You did as he said, his voice husky and hypnotic, and he lifted you to rest on the sink. Legs parted, Steve rested between your open knees. One hand resting there, one working on shrugging you out of the jacket that clung to your shoulders. He pulled away from you, an amused smirk on his face as you whined, to rip the jacket away. Shoulders and neck exposed, Steve got to work on the skin there.

You were suddenly way more aware of what you were doing.

"You better not leave a mark, Harrington." you panted out, as Steve nipped a particularly sweet spot just below your ear. He chuckled, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine.

"Why?" he asked, smug lilt to his words. "Afraid of people knowing?"

"More ashamed than afraid," you said, choking on your words as Steve nipped at the skin of your throat. "Can't have people thinking just anyone can have me."

Steve pulled back, and god you melted right there. Hair a mess, eyes blown wide, and lips swollen. It was a glorious sight. "And I'm just anyone?" He was smug, overconfident. Irritatingly attractive.

"Yeah," you gripped the belt loops of his jeans, yanking forward. The bewildered look on his face made you grin. "so this stays between us."

"Aye aye, Captain."

And off you went again, lips colliding in heated snarls. There was a primal anger behind it, driving you into his strong arms as he encased you. Was this self sabotage? Maybe so, but it was the hottest thing you'd ever experienced. Steve's nimble fingers caressed their way up your back, finding the straps of your bra with ease. He snapped one against your shoulder, making you yelp and using the sound to slip his tongue back into your mouth. If it didn't make your bones feel like jelly, you would have chastised him for the cheap move. Carnal desire taking over your mind, you let your cold hands scrape up his chest, lifting the hem of his shirt to graze his stomach.

He tensed up at the touch, a stuttered breath fanning your face as he sighed. His two hands landed firm on your knees, creeping up your legs and stopping as he stroked your inner thigh with his forefingers.

"Permission to come aboard?"

You nodded, arousal coursing through you like a stake to the heart.

"Words, please...Captain."

"You find yourself funny, don't you?"

"Very." His fingers were so close yet so far from where you wanted them. "Do you want to?"

"Yes, I do."

"There we go."

He kissed you again, this time slow. It was harder than before, and as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, Steve slipped your underwear down your legs. He groaned into the kiss as he felt you, excitement clear by the wet patch on your panties. "God, you're wet."

You should have been embarrassed. You should have pulled your panties off the floor and run out of the house and all the way home without looking back. But you were putty in his hands as Steve slipped a finger inside of you, hooking upwards and finding that special spot almost immediately. A high pitched whine - one that shocked even you- made its way out of your mouth, muffled as you buried your head in Steve's neck as he set a slow pace. "What a pretty sound," he groaned, catching your face in his hand as you threw it back against the mirror. "You gonna keep making 'em like that?"

You nodded, breathless, and then he was out of your sight.

Steve kissed down your chest, shoving your dress over your stomach and kissing the skin as he went down. His fingers intwined with yours as they gripped the marble counter. You sat up to catch his eye, and what a pretty sight it was. Steve Harrington, pupils dilated with lust, with his head between your thighs. He kissed your thighs, and you mewled; so close yet so far.

"Please," you moaned. Embarrassment crept up on you, and you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks. "God, please Steve."

Steve dug his fingers into the skin of your thighs, toying with them. He kissed his way to your knees, enjoying the sight before him as you writhed about. "Please what?" he said, and had you not been desperate for him to bury his head between your legs you would have kicked him. He grinned as you fought the urge to beg. "What do you want?" He left surprisingly tender pecks to your knee.

"I want you."

"Where do you want me?" he was taking his time with you, partly for himself - savouring the moment, rejoicing in the way you fell apart before him- and partly to tease you into insanity.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned as he nipped the supple skin of your thighs.

"Steve is just fine." He laughed, putting you out of your misery as he licked one broad stripe up your centre. It was the stupidest, most reckless thing you could be doing, which made it even hotter as Steve hooked his hands under your hips, holding you on top of the counter as your legs wrapped round his head and your hands wove themselves into his hair. Almost immediately you understood Steve's reputation, and you felt a pang of possessiveness as his lips encased your clit, humming as he went. Your back arched off the tiles, mouth agape in a silent 'O' shape. Harrington knew what he was doing, that much was clear as your first orgasm crept up on you.

You could hardly muster words, the only sound in the jade coloured bathroom being the obscene wet sounds and your whimpers as Steve continued to ruin you on the counter. "I'm gonna - oh shit, Steve." The way you moaned his name - like it was the only one you knew, the only one that mattered- made Steve's jeans feel impossibly tight, palming himself for something, anything to relieve himself. He was just as desperate, just as wanting, as you were - if not more. The thought of what was to come made you clench around Steve's fingers, exploding in a white hot scream on his tongue. You fell back against the mirror, hairs sticking to the sides of your face, cheeks flushed with both heat and bashfulness. Steve crept up your stomach again, stealing a kiss when he made it to your lips.

You could taste yourself as he kissed you, slow and deep. His hands swiped the hair from your face, in a gesture entirely too sweet for a boy that had just ravaged you in his bathroom. It bothered you. That wasn't part of the interaction - there was no sweetness involved. It almost took you out of the moment, but as your hips bucked into Steve's, and he let out a strangled groan, the moment was saved. As his lips found purchase on your collarbones, your hands made work of unbuttoning his shirt - purposefully slow, you enjoyed watching his stomach tense as you grazed it. The sharp intake of breath as you began unbuckling his belt made you feel powerful, made your stomach do flips. "Here?" you asked, kissing down his neck to the space where it met his shoulders, "or somewhere else?"

Steve's eyes lit up like a christmas tree at the prospect that this - whatever this was- wasn't over just yet. He gripped your hands on his belt buckle. "Not here." With little effort, he hoisted you over his shoulder - much to your shock and dismay. You swatted his back but couldn't help the swell of arousal as his arm tightened round your waist. He set you down on the edge of the bed, standing in front of you with one hand on your cheek. In the dim light of his bedroom, Steve Harrington was devastatingly handsome. The soft glow of peaches and oranges made his eyes a molten chocolate, skin peppered with a red hue from...exertion.

"It's rude to stare." he said, voice void of the smugness from before. It made your ribcage rattle, heart thudding with the weight of his stare. It felt like he was looking at your soul, and it made you shiver. The boy who'd tormented you for years, was seeing you. Staring right back at him, your hands made their way to his belt loops. It was your turn to make him writhe a bit.

"Can't help it," you said, voice all airy and entirely foreign to your ears. It dripped with a lust, husky and soft. "You're somewhat of a looker."

You ripped his jeans open, nimble hands ridding him of the garment in seconds. As you grabbed the waistband of his boxers, the outline of his cock straining against the fabric, his hand stopping you. "As amazing as that would be," he said regrettably, "if I don't get you on that bed, I think I may lose my mind." He said it so breathlessly that it made your thighs clench together. He wanted you so badly. You cocked your head to the side, half playful and half serious as you said, "Do something about it then."

Steve didn't need to be told twice. He dove into you, hand steadying your head as your lips locked together - an irritatingly perfect puzzle piece finding another. You were a tangle of legs, arms, and lips as the two of you buried yourselves in Steve Harrington's bed, ridding each other of the clothes that stopped your from touching one another completely. His knee found its home between you, shifting your legs apart to make room for hips. You were encased in Steve; his scent, the feel of his lips on your skin, his legs locking yours in place. His hips rocking into yours as he kissed your neck with sinful skill.

Your hands grew restless, tugging at the hairs at the nape of his neck as if he would understand the morse code in the pulling. "Steve," you groaned as he knocked his hips into yours, "please."

You were begging, and you were embarrassed. You couldn't bring yourself to say the words- couldn't stand the thought of asking your middle school bully to fuck you in his bed at his own party. But the boy had other ideas.

"Say it." he toyed with your clit, thumbing it as you whined. When you stayed silent, he pinched one of your nipples between his fingers. he smirked at how quickly they puckered underneath him. "Say you want me."

Your cheeks burned with shame. You couldn't - wouldn't- beg him.

He hovered over you, hands either side of your head, nose brushing yours. You could feel the ghost of his lips over your own. His hand came to rest on your chin, thumb sliding over your lip, tugging it down and letting it slide back. "Open."

You did as he said, opening your mouth wide enough for Steve to slide his thumb into your mouth, a teasing smile on his face as you swirled your tongue around it. "Say you want me to fuck you." He pulled his thumb out of your mouth slowly, grinning as it made a satisfying pop. He leaned down to the shell of your ear. "Tell me you want me to ruin you," he whispered.

The burn in the pit of your stomach raged as Steve kissed the hollow of your throat, waiting for you to speak. Your breath was shallow, eyes closed as you whispered into the air, hoping the buzz of the party below would swallow your words.

"I want you to ruin me."

Steve grinned, wolfish and smug, as he lined himself up with you, locking eyes with you as he pushed himself in. You knew you were gone when he moaned your name like a prayer, said it like it was the cure to his troubles. Like you were something to treasure. One strong arm gripped the headboard as he panted. "God," he grunted out, "you feel incredible."

There was something electric about hearing praise from the boy that tormented you for years, something wickedly delightful about watching his mouth hang open with pleasure as he bottomed out inside you. You clenched around him, desperate for any friction to satisfy the burning between your legs. "Can I move?" he groaned.

"Yes, please."

In public, Steve was an athlete. Behind closed doors, under the sheets, he was an Olympian. He set a fast pace, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, deeper inside of you every time. The sounds of the party- the drunken teens stumbling, the music blaring- were drowned out by the slapping of skin on skin, of your whines and Steve Harrington's moans as you fell apart beneath him.

"Shitshitshit- man, you're amazing." he moaned as he rutted into you. You were frozen in pleasure, mouth open from silent screams of pleasure. You bit your lip, so hard you would have tasted blood had Steve not being everything you felt in that moment. "Oh, fuck," you groaned at a particularly deep thrust, "I'm s-so close."

"Me too," Steve whimpered, and you were sure it was the hottest thing you'd ever heard. "Where should I-"

"I'm on the pill." you sputtered out.

Steve's eyes darkened, delighted at the permission, determined to get you to your peak before he fell apart himself. "Yeah? You gonna let me come inside?" His hand reached between your conjoined bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Gonna come for me?"

Your back arched off the mattress, the coil in your stomach snapping at the same time Steve collapsed on top of you, his stuttering as he came. You both panted, recovering from the exertion. Rolling over onto his back, you and Steve stared at the ceiling, the weight of what you had done sinking in.

It was wrong, so wrong. He'd just broken up with Nancy, seconds before you let him crawl between your legs. You would have felt terrible, like you'd betrayed her, had it not been so good.

You would have felt guilty, had you not felt the shake of your legs still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm.

Steve turned his head to face you. You turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry about how I treated you, before."

You snorted.

"You don't have to apologise just because we had sex, Steve." The ridiculousness of it made you laugh. "Thanks, though." You were both silent for a while, just laying there. You tried spying your clothes across the room. "Where's my underwear?"

"Oh," Steve mumbled, getting up from the bed and into the bathroom. You couldn't help but stare at his retreating form, back muscles flexing as he stretched. You did the same, a soreness washing over you. Steam filled the bathroom, the sound of the shower running loud against the dying party below. Steve returned in his jeans, smirking as pulled your lavender lace panties from the back pocket, tossing them at you. You caught them with one hand.

"Perv," you said, sliding them back up your legs. Steve smiled from the bathroom doorway. He was looking at you that way again. It made your stomach uneasy. "What?" you said.

"You can, uh, clean up here. If you want." He scratched the back of his neck. He gestured to the shower. You stomach flipped again. You rose from the bed, using the sheet to cover your chest. You stopped in front of Steve, who was struggling not to look down at your loosely covered front.

"This is not a thing, okay?" you said slowly, as if saying the words aloud would make them true. As if hearing them from your own lips would stop the way your lips yearned for Steve's the second they left your own. "This goes nowhere else."

Steve nodded, mockingly serious.

"Aye aye, Captain."

He grabbed your hand, making you drop the sheet, and led you into the steam filled bathroom. You let him wash your skin, all soap and too much affection given who he was to you. You didn't stop him when he kissed below your eye, on your nose, or when he placed an all too tender kiss on your lips for just a second. But it was long enough. You let him wrap you in a towel, drying you with gentle hands. You didn't object when he dressed you in his old basketball shorts and a tattered sweatshirt. You let him tuck you under his sheets, didn't flinch away when he tucked your hair behind your ear.

You let him wrap his arm over your waist when he returned, having kicked the last stragglers out of the house. You let yourself fall asleep in his bed, warm and soft and all too inviting, much like its inhabitant.

What you wouldn't do was let yourself fall for this, you thought. You wouldn't fall for Steve Harrington. Wouldn't fall for his moves, his overused lines. Wouldn't get wrapped up with the wrong guy.

But as morning came, and you turned to see Steve already looking at you, that look on his face, you thought that maybe it was too late. And by the looks of Steve Harrington, it was too late for him as well.

5K notes · View notes

k-atsukibakugou · 5 months

Text

w/c: 0.8k tw: uh i don't 100% know what this is or what it will become, this scene was just haunting me as a daydream lmao; i imagined this with bakugou but never wrote his name lmao; f!siren reader, implied yandere

"who is she?" your voice choruses inside his head before the heavy wood has even latched closed, the chorus mostly playful, the teasing curve of your lips clear you didn’t think he’d notice one in the chorus with the mean tone, insecurity and jealousy weaved into its disembodied voice, no matter how you tried to hide it with hundreds of other voices overlapping the others, the same question on repeat.

“how did you get in here?”

“how do you know you haven’t let me in before?” aloud, your voice is even more powerful, his spine straightening minutely despite the exhaustion setting in his bones. even with his muscles fighting his instincts to remain upright, he studies you lazily, his gaze trailing over your hands; holding the book on his coffee table in the same spot he held it, his thumbs in place beneath yours just hours earlier. he wonders if he’ll be able to feel you on the pages after you leave, if your fingerprint will linger like your perfume.

there’s some kind of domesticity to it, he thinks, your hands settling in the same place as his, your comfortable pose on his couch, your insatiable need to know about him, to see inside him, your need for him to engage like a schoolgirl tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. if the schoolgirl was blood thirsty.

“so, who is she?” your tone is even, your jealousy masterfully disguised by a practised playfulness, the twinkle in your eye unmistakable when you search his face for any tells for his supposed lover. you finally stand from his couch, placing the book back in the exact spot he had it, down to the millimetre (had you been here before? would he know?), leaving your jacket on the couch, the sweet scent already seeping into the fabric. you were good at that, ensuring you were always on his mind, with your perfume, with all the criminals dazedly walking into police stations holding their own wanted flyers with his name scribbled on it beside your own. gifts, you’d called them the first time he’d caught you in the act.

“has to be someone special, hm? you’ve never left me waiting before.”

your voice is just a whisper, a tiny worm wiggling its way into his nervous system, forcing his gaze to yours (he has just enough self control to steel his eyes, to keep his face indifferent as his body fought to react, to give in). staring up at him, you carefully examine his features, the way you’re reflected in his pupils that nearly swallow his iris whole, the ring of colour proof of his stubbornness, of his power to resist your compulsion.

“there is no she, i was out cleaning up your mess.”

you raise your hands in a display of innocence you don’t deserve, slinking closer to the light he sought his shelter in.

“my mess? i convinced a criminal you’ve been searching for to walk into your agency. you should be thanking me.” the worm is more the size of a caterpillar, growing evermore with the echoing chorus of your voice, the same you’d have done to the man earlier in the evening; a tauntingly slow build up of your compulsion until it had taken hold.

his voice joined yours in ordering him, his head hurting from the resistance, thank her. thank her. thank her. thank her. squeezing his eyes shut, his lips part involuntarily, his tongue straining to speak, to form the syllables you compelled him say, “i don’t need to thank you for shit.”

his back tenses, shoulder blades pinching together in the effort to resist you, a headache forming behind his eyes the longer you stared at him; pain pulsing with every ignored syllable.

he’d given in once, the first time he saw you, before he knew how to resist. before he knew how relieving it was to give in; the sound of your honeyed voice something he craved every day since, the echo of your command like a warm stream of water rushing down his spine, the weightlessness of pleasing you, every hum of approval like a hit of nicotine.

you pout, “the others are more grateful.”

your perceived inability to break him haunts you, he can tell, you itch to feel him give in, to have a man of his power under your thumb. a toy for your entertainment. he’d give it to you, he’d tell you how he craved the feeling of your hypnosis, if he knew you’d still send him your ‘gifts’, if you’d still sneak into his house just to see the flash of shock on his face, if you’d still obsess, if he knew he wasn’t just a challenge. the unbreakable man, broken.

instead, he tries his best to keep an indifferent, slightly amused, expression firmly on his face, watching you flit about his apartment like you belonged, like you weren’t more tempting than the forbidden fruit, like submitting wasn’t a worse fate than mortality. his body screamed at him the longer you stayed near, blood, muscles bones and nerves begging to rest, to get closer, to run; the need for you prospering in the dark recesses of his mind when he takes one step closer.

“i’m not like the others.”

#「mercury writes」#「kat <3」#tw: yandere #just in case #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katsuk x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader

173 notes · View notes

cleoluvrr · 11 months

Text

high school sweethearts (rafe cameron x reader) - I

these are the requirements, if you think you can be my one true love

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, dub!con, choking, domestic violence, substance abuse & addiction, controlling behavior, coercion, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, attempted suicide ,kook!reader

masterlist

series masterlist

rafe’s head weighed down your chest, tears soaking through your pajama shirt that left your skin feeling sticky from the salty substance. his large body was racked with sobs and while it may have made someone else feel pity for the boy, all you could feel was the uneasiness creeping up your spine.

he’d shown up randomly in the dead of night, the sound of his knock at your window leaving you filled with so much dread that you almost ignored the desperate tapping. the tall man stumbled in like a fawn, leaking blood from his flushed, teary face that left stains all over his shirt. as he came closer, the red scratch left behind from his father’s family ring was clear on his cheekbone, raised and pink from the irritation.

it was the second time that week he’d come over like this. the bruises from the last time had not even healed before being overlapped by fresh ones.

you weren’t sure why rafe and his father got into it so bad, so often; but it had taken a toll on you both mentally and physically for having to deal with the aftermath all on your own.

after nursing his injuries and having him change into a spare shirt he’d left in your room, all you could do was allow him to cry into you. it was the only thing you had the energy to do, and there were no words you had to say to him to make him feel any better than he did now.

so, here you sat with your back against the headboard, legs outstretched and weighed down by your boyfriend’s body as he buried his face into you chest to muffle the cries that he couldn’t stop from escaping. sleep was slowly creeping through your body, but you fought it off to pacify your aching lover’s pain.

“it’s okay,.” your voice was soft, the sweet sound vibrating against his ear drums. “you don’t need to cry, i’m right here.”

you continued to speak soothing words to him for what felt like an eternity before he finally began to calm down, his cries steadily reducing to erratic sniffle every few dozen seconds. your arms cradle his upper body as you gently rock side to side in both an effort to calm him and keep yourself awake.

a pair of puffy eyes stared back up at you as rafe pulled his face from its hiding spot. his face was tired, pink, and tear stained, though most of the salty fluid was thoroughly soaked into the tank top stretched across your chest that he used to cry into. you don’t complain about the less than comfortable way it sticks to your skin out of concern that it would only manage to further upset him.

“i’m sorry…” rafe’s voice was quiet and broken as he spoke, the strength of his sobs evident from the damage it left on his voice.

“don’t be. you have nothing to be sorry for.” your head shakes at him in refusal. nimble fingers graze over his face gently as you wipe away the stray tears that continued to fall.

“i didn’t mean to come over so late.” the pink of his tongue pokes out to moisten his chapped lips before it retreats. “i didn’t know what to do. i–i just really needed you, y/n.”

“i know, baby, i promise it's okay.” you look down at him with soft eyes, one that you pray display deep affection for the man and not the irritation you felt inching closer to the front. “you can come to me whenever; i always have time for you.”

it wasn’t a lie, exactly. if rafe wanted to see you then he would do it, whether you were busy or not. you had no free time, practically your entire life outside of school was dedicated to your relationship. going to a college on the mainland was completely out of the question, simply because rafe would never let it happen–he already hated the fact that you lived fifteen minutes away. you couldn’t count how many times he’d begged you to live in tannyhill with him, nor could you count how many times you’d said no. living four hours away in a different city where he couldn’t keep a constant eye on you, where you would be around thousands of guys, would never happen–in this lifetime or the next.

you had to go to a university nearby to take classes, one that was close enough to home that so wouldn’t have to leave. you rarely hung out with your friends alone because it offended your boyfriend if you spent too much time with them. ‘are they more important than i am?’ is what he would ask through gritted teeth whenever you made plans with them more than twice a week.

that’s how much rafe controlled every aspect of your life.

the last time you tried to free yourself of it, rafe promised to kill you. so you’ve learned to accept it for your own safety. even if your entire life revolved around your boyfriend, you’d rather that than having it be taken from you.

“do you want to talk about what happened?” you remained cautious in your inquiry, trying your best to be inoffensive as to prevent triggering him to anger or another crying fit. “it’s the second time this week you came over like this, baby…i’m worried.”

“my dad doesn’t think i deserve you, that’s what happened.” rafe chuckled dryly, head shaking as if he couldn’t believe his father would ever say something like that.

“what?” you brows knit together in confusion. “what do you mean?”

“my dad really likes you, y/n. more than he likes me, probably.” he releases another humorless snort. “he called me a, and i quote, ‘worthless leech of a son.’ he said that you were too good for me and that you would never stay with someone like me if you were as smart as he thought you were.”

you blinked at him as you processed the recounting of events. ward’s words towards rafe should never be uttered from a parent to their child, but he wasn't wrong.

rafe stole money from his father and misused their funds very regularly. he would spend it on drugs, alcohol, vehicles, and whatever else he felt like impulsive spending on–all the while he contributed nothing. it was something that you consistently scolded him for, especially when he would spend his father’s hard earned money on expensive gifts for you.

you would never call rafe worthless, but it would be a lie to say he’s not mooching off his father. however, every rich kid in kildare did the same thing to their parents, and his father definitely never worked to stop the behavior while he was younger.

as for you being too smart to stay with someone like rafe–you can’t say that you agree too much.

“don’t listen to him, rafe. no good father should ever say that to their child.” is what you settled on telling him instead.

“i know, what a piece of shit.” he shook his head, eyes rolling in annoyance as he retold the events of the night. you observed the faint appearance of a smirk on his face, the ghost of a smile barely visible but you couldn’t miss the slight twitch of his lips before he spoke again. “so i told him he’s just mad that my girl actually loves me, while my mom was smart enough to leave his ass.”

“rafe!”

“yeah, he didn’t like that very much.” the eyes that had lowered while he spoke flicked back up to watch yours. “he hit me with that big ass ring on and told me to leave, so i did.”

you tilted your head to the side, lip caught between the whiteness of your teeth.

what he shared was not out of the ordinary for the duo. what was out of the ordinary was the state in which rafe was in just a few minutes ago. typically he would just come over and let you dress his wounds before letting you play with his hair is silence, or listening to him call his father everything but a child of god in a rage-fueled rant.

“and why were you crying? you can’t just show up like that, rafe…you scared me.” the boy in your arms sat silently for a moment before answering.

“its just…you’re in college now. i’ve made so many plans for our future but what if….you’re not gonna leave me, right?” rafe had worry set deep into his expression as he watched you process the question, his head shaking at you. “he was wrong, you’d never do that. you’re smart enough to know better.”

you were sure he heard you gulp after speaking the last sentence. you knew what he was implying, and he was right. ward was correct in saying that you were intelligent enough to know that staying with rafe was a terrible idea, but you were also smart enough to know that rafe would do anything and everything under the sun before letting you go.

“i’m not going anywhere, baby. don’t listen to him, he just wants to get under your skin.” it nearly made you sick to say it, but what choice did you really have? “i love you so, so much, and going to school isn’t going to change that. i’ve had a plan for my life way before i met you, but that doesn’t mean i don’t wanna make you a part of it. my future is my future, but i can’t see it without you there too.”

you meant what you said. you love rafe so, very deeply, and you would do almost anything to make him happy–within reason. rafe didn’t understand reason; rationality was not his forte. any reasonable person would understand that the waters would be tested once a high school relationship became an adult relationship, but rafe was not reasonable. any normal person knows that plans change as life goes on, but rafe was not normal.

maybe you would marry him one day. you might have his kids, be his trophy wife, and live in tannyhill, happily ever after. you knew that even if you went to college on the mainland, you wouldn’t leave rafe. that you would come back to kildare every chance you got and spend every spare second with him until you had to leave again.

even when he gave you hell, you still loved him with every bone in your body.

rafe didn’t understand that, though, and that’s what led to your attempt at breaking it off with him. he degraded your lifelong goal, telling you that your relationship was more important that ‘some stupid degree’ could ever be. you supported him through everything, even when you thought it was the most idiotic thing someone could do, so his total disregard for something that you deeply cared for hurt you.

the only reason rafe even let you go to school was because he’s terrified of losing you. not only physically, but emotionally. sure, he could threaten your life to make you stay and you’d listen out of fear. what he knew, however, is that he would lose you if he took your dream away from you. his leash was tight, but it was long enough to keep you satisfied.

rafe nodded at you in approval, seemingly satisfied enough with your answer to leave it alone.

he never wanted you to go to college in the first place. it was the only thing that you put your foot down on, but if it were up to him, the two of you would be getting married by spring.

he thought it was stupid–why do you need a degree or a job? why work when rafe was there to provide for you once he took over his dad’s company? he fought you long and hard about it for months, but you wouldn’t budge. you needed a safety net–you couldn’t let him take the most important thing in life taken away from you; knowledge.

for you, knowledge was power. it was the closest thing you had to freedom. you knew that if you had a degree, it would be a safeguard in case things with rafe ever went south. deep down your boyfriend knew that, which is probably why he was so against it in the first place.

rafe knew his father was right, which is why he was in such a severe state of distress. he would never admit to that, however,

“are you just saying that because you’re scared?” your breath hitched at the sudden question and you were sure that you’d been caught.

“no! i mean it, seriously-”

“you’re smart to be scared, honestly.” he chuckled at you darkly, eyes glinting in the dim light of your bedroom. “i couldn’t live without you in my life, i love you too much. just thinking about you ever trying to leave me makes me so–so…sick. i need you more than anything. i would probably have to kill myself if you were gone, because i don’t want to live a life without you in it.”

you remained stoic.

“and i couldn’t see you with anyone that isn’t me.” he stared at you for a heavy moment after saying it. the two of you both knew what he was hinting at, a look of understanding shared amongst the silence that overtook the room.

“rafe, my love…i don’t think that’s healthy.” the words left you in a soft, inoffensive tone. setting off the unstable man was the last thing you wanted to do. “you shouldn’t say things like that, its not funny..”

he shrugged at you, pushing your arms away from him and sitting upright. your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his soft lips against yours, body melting into him instinctively. it only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away abruptly, the feeling of his soft breath mixing with yours leaving you confused.

the moment doesn’t stay on your mind any longer when he leans back in, lips meeting yours in a fervor. your skin feels flushed, face warm as the tingling feeling sets in from his skin on yours. rafe brought his hand up from its resting place on your thigh and attempts to wrap it around your neck like he usually does, but you pull it away haphazardly, hardly paying it any attention as you descend deeper into the kiss.

your own fingers reach up to play with his hair, a set of manicured nails gently scraping against the nape of his neck. you use it to pull him closer, the sound of lips smacking together filling the otherwise silent room along with your minorly labored breathing.

a warm, calloused hand slowly crawled up your side and landed on your throat once again, each finger slowly working to wrap around your neck in a firm grip. it was much tighter this time, and its grip strengthening faster than you could adjust. you reach up once more to pull it away, but he doesn’t let up.

“stop,” you pull away from him mid-kiss, your hand covering the pale one tightly wound around your neck. he doesn’t flinch at the sound of your demand, eyes low as he observes your increasingly frantic movements.

“what?” he asked.

rafe’s face was expressionless, the slight scrunch in his nose being the only giveaway of his sudden rise to anger. it was the silent rage that scared you, why you so carefully chose your words when speaking to him–because it would lead to moments like this. you weren’t even sure what you said to trigger him, but your rapidly decreasing airflow wouldn’t allow for you to think about it in depth.

“rafe, stop.” you repeat yourself. another hand reaches up to fight against his, nails scratching at the skin as they try to pull him off. the feeling had long passed being uncomfortable, and was encroaching on unbearable. “what’re you doing?”

“what's wrong, baby…can’t breathe?” your boyfriend’s eyes furrowed with a look of faux concern, but you felt him stop holding back. he allowed the full weight of his strength onto you, biceps flexing as the tips of his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your throat. “huh?”

unable to answer verbally, you hummed quietly as you desperately tugged at him. despite your incessant squirming, that doesn’t deter him from returning his lips to yours. the kiss was sloppy, you were too focused on fighting for what little breath you had to return it fully, but rafe didn’t seem to care.

he suckled at your bottom lip before nipping it with the sharpness of his teeth. he laved his tongue against yours, all but fucking your mouth the wet muscle. the sound of his soft, dark laughter reached your ears after he heard you whine against him. you were beginning to become lightheaded the longer rafe’s hand compressed your trachea mercilessly.

he was allowing just enough room for you to not pass out from lack of air, but the finger against your jugular veins was preventing oxygen from reaching your brain.

leaving you with a few sporadic, wet pecks, he pulled away only slightly to observe your less than lively state. his lips were glistening with moisture, and you could feel spit dribbling down your own chin from your inability to swallow the saliva that had been gathering in your mouth. the blond’s face went stoic again and pulled you back to him, lips just barely brushing against yours.

“you see how i just had your life in my hands? how scared you felt knowing that i could’ve just crushed your throat if i wanted to?” the grip over your neck had finally loosened and you did your best to not pant against his face as your breathing steadied itself.

you remained silent but rafe watched you expectantly, clearly awaiting an actual response and not the stupid, wide-eyed expression you carried. you nodded at him weakly, stray tears sliding down your face as you blinked your eyes clear of them.

“i’m not joking.” he whispered against your parted lips, eyes low and jaw clenching for just a second before speaking again. “i will fuck you up, and i mean that.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #obx3 #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #cleoluvrr fics

599 notes · View notes

collisvng · 6 months

Text

ECLIPSE ON SATURN.

1.5k words and a whole lot of fluff.

“Come on, we’re gonna miss it!”

“Oh calm down,” you laughed as your friend pulled you along to your university’s courtyard. “I don’t see why this eclipse thing is such a big deal anyways.”

Han turned to you, gummy smile exposed and a light in his eyes that was so bright you could see the universe in them. He had been boasting about the whole eclipse thing all morning. He had even made sure to get you both those cardboard glasses with special lenses just so you could properly see it. All that came out of his mouth was eclipse this, eclipse that. You had no idea where this sudden infatuation had come from. But when he looked at you like this, there was no reason to question it.

“Hey,” he shrugged, “it got us out of class so I’m not complaining.”

The both of you walked hand in hand until you reached the center of the courtyard. It seemed as if everyone had gotten the memo that the best place to see the sun and moon overlap would be at the heart of the university, as almost half the school was there as well.

Han looked around until he spotted the guys and waved to them before dragging you over to the fountain that sat in the center of the yard. You asked him why you both weren’t sitting with them, and he just simply replied that where they wanted to be for the eclipse wouldn’t be as magical as where you guys were.

It was strange, very strange.

But then again, this was Han Jisung. Your best friend who you knew always wanted to make his experiences memorable. And seeing as the next eclipse probably wouldn’t even be happening until you were both merely in your forties, it sort of made sense why he was acting weird.

He wanted the moment to be magical. But little did you know, he wanted the moment to be magical for you more than anything.

The two of you sat there at the edge of the fountain as Han vigorously bounced his leg impatiently. You let out a chuckle upon noticing how anxious he was. It was a big contrast to your surroundings.

The small murmurs of people around you, the rushing water of the fountain, the light sound of the trees shaking because of the wind…

Someone had even pulled out their bluetooth speaker and was playing music so mellow it could practically put someone to sleep.

And through all of that, there was Jisung; staring up at the sky and practically vibrating throughout his entire body in a fit of self-inflicted anxiety.

His hand lay against the concrete of the fountain, gripping onto it for dear life. You placed your hand atop his, smiling at his immediate reaction of rubbing his thumb over yours without even looking at you.

“Jisung,” you stated, causing him to flinch before snapping his head in your direction.

His pupils were dilated to their fullest extent and his signature confused pout sat atop his lips. He was so pretty you thought you might die if he looked at you like that any longer then a few seconds.

“Ji, calm down. It’s just an eclipse. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Maybe not for you,” he leaned forward for emphasis, “but I slept through the last eclipse. I was like, what, seventeen then? I can’t miss it again.”

His hair started to move with the wind and you watched as his long, curly strands wisped across his eyes. You reached over and tucked a strand or two behind his ear. He prayed you couldn’t see how red they were.

“You always look so cute when you’re excited,” you said looking into the boba pearls staring back at you. “Your eyes always get so big.”

He grinned, widening his eyes and bringing his face even closer to yours. You shied away, playfully pushing him away in the process. His eyes crinkled as his smile reached his eyes.

“Your eyes are pretty cute sometimes too.”

“Why thank you,” blush began to slowly creep its way onto your cheeks as you tried to continue joking around. “My parents worked really hard to create this beauty.”

You watched your friend roll his eyes, but the grin he had never left his face.

At this point, Jisung’s shaking had stopped as all his focus was suddenly on you.

And how your hand was still on his.

A brief silence fell between the both of you that felt like lightyears despite it only being a few seconds. There was a sort of tension there. You could feel it. Jisung could definitely feel it. And neither of you wanted to let it linger away.

So, Jisung spoke.

“You know, a lot of people use the eclipse as a way to symbolize new beginnings.”

“Is that so?” you asked.

He nodded.

“Yeah. It’s kind of like… whatever happens in the dark will become beautiful in the light. A lot of secrets are revealed in rare moments like that.”

“Oh yeah?” You turned to face him, smirking. “What are you trying to say then, hm? Are you hiding any secrets from me Jisung?”

He sat there, looking at you as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. And the moment he opened his mouth to speak, it appeared it was time.

“IT'S HAPPENING!” You could hear someone yell, and the entire courtyard went silent.

All you could hear for a brief moment were the trees, the water, and the beginning of a twinkly instrumental starting to play.

… if there's another universe, please make some noise…

Han’s gaze was still glued to you for a good second before the panic began to set in for him again when he realized neither of you had your eclipse glasses in hand.

“Shit,” he swore under his breath, attempting to reach into his back pocket to grab them but failing.

As he reached back, he seemed to lose balance and almost fall into the fountain. In an effort to not completely embarrass himself, he used all his willpower to force his body forward. He fell onto the pavement instead this way, which in his eyes was better than having to walk back to his dorm drenched from head to toe.

You felt bad for laughing, but stuff like this was pretty much the norm for your friend. Which is why when Jisung turned back to you, this time viewing from a lower perspective as he was on bended knee in front of you, he couldn’t be mad. He just joined you in your laughter and apologized for being a clutz.

… sick of this head of mine, intrusive thoughts, they paralyze…

He looked up at you, pulling out a pair of glasses from his pocket and unfolding them. His hands held the cardboard temples as he slowly reached upward to put them on you. But midway through, the thought of hiding your beautiful orbs seemed foreign to him and all he could do was stare into them. It was like staring into the sun but not being able to look away because the colors burning into his retinas were too beautiful.

You were too beautiful.

His hands dropped and the both of you were once again in silence. The thoughts in his mind were going in different directions, appearing and disappearing into a void lost by your beauty like every word in his mind was levitating in an ethereal plane.

The moon had begun its mission of hiding the sun, but he couldn’t do his mission hiding his.

… life's better on Saturn, got to break this pattern of floating away…

“Jisung?” You asked, both a feeling of confusion and slight lust washing over you as the slow approaching darkness began to fill your peripheral view. “You okay? Is something wrong?”

Han shook his head no, but he still couldn’t speak. And then, as if something had taken over his body, he began to lean into you.

You watched for a moment, contemplating if what was happening was really happening.

But it was.

And not long after did you find yourself leaning in as well.

Your palm found Jisung’s jaw as you began to rub small circles against his cheek. One of his hands found your waist and began pulling you further down towards him. Your fingertips traveled upward through his curly locks as the sky completely turned dark and a sigh escaped Han as your lips collided. You couldn't help but grin through it.

This wasn’t how he was intending to expose his feelings for you. Hell, he had been losing his shit all day trying to figure out how he would ask you out. He wanted to give you a whole speech comparing the moon and sun to you both, pouring his soul out until it lay helplessly in your hands hoping for reciprocation in return. But this was better. Way better.

Han didn’t get to look at the eclipse that day, but he got something even greater. From that day on, he would write songs and tell people about how the two of you finally got together. And he would use the same wording almost every time.

“The day the sun and moon collided, so did we.”

#➴collisvng writes #han jisung #han jisung drabbles #han jisung thoughts #stray kids imagines #han jisung imagines #han jisung fluff #han jisung x reader #stray kids #stray kids drabbles #stray kids thoughts #skz fluff #skz x reader #solar eclipse #the eclispe was too pretty to not write about #eclipse #spotify

172 notes · View notes

bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Text

Always have but never hold

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n Right... I just have so much love for all of you and the support I've been getting on this... mind blowing! I hope y'all will enjoy this!😭✨🤍

warnings: cursing, mental health struggles, puking and angst just the same sweet angst.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Carmen knew something was off. The moment you stepped out of the office. You were there, but your mind was elsewhere. You looked almost dazed. Fighting some battles Carmen didn't know of. So even if the heat of the kitchen was burning all around him, Carmy stopped. Striding away from his spot as he crosses the distance between the two of you. You flinched only when his fingers were slowly creeping against your upper arm. "You okay? Are you good?", he asked through the clicks of the pots.

Yet what brought all of the oxygen out of Carmy was the way you looked up at him. It was a look he had never seen on your face. Never directly at him. There was no way he could even describe that look. Sadness? Yet it didn't seem deep enough. Anger? The flames were barely sparkling. Disappointment? It looked more like a never-ending orb of nothingness. You were looking at him, but you might as well be looking through him, behind him.

"Darling", Carmen breathed, and you swallowed quickly, nodding your head. "Well, well. Where do you need me?" The tone of your voice nearly chilled Carmen's blood. Once again, there were no emotions that twisted through it. And that scared him because he did not know what was going on. And he wished he knew, "Are you sure?", he asked softly, moving to touch your face, but you slipped past his fingers. Humming as you step deeper into the kitchen, Carmy bit down on the frustration that suddenly blossomed within him. Trying to keep it down. At bey. To put a leash on it so it wouldn't come out clacking its teeth at you.

He turns back to you, calling out your name once more. The moment your eyes are on him, Carmen rubs his fist over the left side of his chest. Do the same thing, he begs in his mind; do the same thing. Calm down my mind. Tell me this is something we'll talk about in the privacy of our home. You watched the gesture. Watched. Nodded your head a couple of times, but the nods didn't even look like a nod of agreement. Just a look at something. Someone who wasn't fully there.

Maybe it was stupid that you didn't just address it. You knew you should have. Isn't that what grownups do? Get to the root of the problem and solve it. They don't run away from it. But you couldn't. A twisted part of you wanted to wait for Carmy to say it himself. Bring whoever Claire was himself. You had watched him pick up his phone during family. Fork still in your hands. You had left the messages open. It would have been the first thing he saw when he opened it. You waited for him to get uncomfortable. Frown maybe. Stager at the sight of it, but he didn't. Instead, a light smile softened his features. A fucking smile. The only person you'd seen him smile at was you. No one had received a single smile here in New York from Carmy. And here your form of reality was being crushed right in front of your eyes as you watched him eagerly type the reply.

Now you're here. In your bed. With what you now struggle to pinpoint as your boyfriend sprawled beside you, hand over your stomach, light snores leaving his mouth. You knew you could have. The phone was right there. You could unlock it. See what Carmy had to say in reply, but you couldn't bring yourself to. From the very start, trust was something you valued. Both of you did, or at least you thought you did. You both were the victims of late nights and schedules that overlapped. You had tried putting up a spreadsheet of your work and class times so you could cross over the free slots. Did it work? No, but you two had laughed over it at four am while eating shit gas station ice cream cones Carmy had bought.

"Do you believe in happily ever afters?", your head was hanging off the side of the couch, and your legs were up against the back cushions. Carmy was twisting a bottle of beer in his hand. This conversation was so random. You two had just started exploring the beginnings of the feelings blossoming within your chests. Here is the tiniest living room in New York at odd hours because that's how life was back then. "No", he said almost immediately, making you turn your head towards him. "Why not?", Carmy chuckled nervously, "There's no such thing as never-ending happiness". You had struck up a big fight there about that with him. "But would you want that? An ending like that?", you were ready to agree to disagree. Tiredness was already making you delusional. Carmy halted his answer here and took the last sip from his bottle before saying, "I think people are selfish. They want to have things constantly, but they never hold onto them in the end".

You wished you had let those words sink into you back then. Let the weight of them press into you. Because you had brushed it off way too soon. But that was the first and only time you had gotten so close. Truly get to the core of Carmy. Fuck sex. It brought bodies together. Minds too, if the bodies were truly in sync. But you can have sex with someone without even knowing them fully. The bliss of it all covered up the voids of the unknown.

Always have, but never hold. The words spun and spun in your head. Who was this man lying beside you? Did you know him? How long has he been seeing someone else? Was he even doing that, or were you being paranoid? You looked down at his sleepy face, so calm and without a single frowning line. Your fingers mindlessly ran over the scars and little freckles on his face. All these little, tiny details that had imprinted themselves in your brain. That you remembered in the back of your head. That you would remember even if he changed his mind and started loving someone else.

Bile rose in your throat, and you tried to breathe through it. But the thoughts kept on coming, snapping at the sides of your mind. Over and over and over and over and over. Bringing waves of nausea. And then it overflowed. You reached for the blanket, ripping Carmy's hand off your body as you rushed towards the bathroom. The dinner came right up, or at least the total of two bites you had managed to swallow, even if Sydney was nudging your side playfully, trying to lighten the mood and get you to eat something more. Then the acid rose next. Making the gagging more unbearable. You felt hands pulling your hair away from your face, and you jumped at the sensation. You knew it was Carmy, and it only made the tears that much more painful.

"Breathe through it; try not to gag aimlessly", Carmy's voice was soft, tired but soft, as he ran his hand up and down your back. "Do you still feel like throwing up?", he asked after flushing the water. Your body felt clammy. Cold but on fire at the same time. Your forehead was pressed into the side of the toilet seat as you tried to breathe. Tried to get the nausea away, yet moved to gag once more. But your mind was singing the same tune over and over. I'm so glad I got to see you again. I miss your silly face already. Your body trembled; the cold bathroom tiles soothed the nausea, yet your bones were catering from within, it seemed. Carmen didn't rush you, and for that, we're thankful. One more jab and you might just break.

Carmen was worried. He got woken up by your sharp movements, and the moment the gagging filled the quiet space, he was up. He wondered if your offbeat mood the whole evening was just the beginning of what was happening now. Maybe you were feeling off. Maybe there was something wrong with the food he gave you. But fuck, what if he poisoned everyone who ate? What if people, the customers, will be piling outside the restaurant tomorrow morning with papers in their hands, wanting to file reports? What if they sue him? Carmy would lose the last thing that tied him to Mikey. He couldn't. No, but what if... Another gag pulled Carmy out and back to the present.

"Do you want some water?", he leaned in to take a better look at your face, which was covered in beads of cold sweat. You shook your head, but Carmy still filled one up, "Wash your mouth at least; it'll feel better". You pulled yourself away from the toilet, palms pressed to the cold ground. Carmy pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder, watching you. His gaze burned your skin and face, but you didn't have it in you to say anything about it. Your head lulled back, and Carmy quickly moved behind you, catching it on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Do you think... should I get a doctor?", his tone sounded so much more panicked now as he ran his fingers over your skin. Things like this frightened him; you know about that. He was scared that any form of illness was going to take away the last and maybe only thing he truly cared about. But you shook your head.

You didn't have it in you. You could explain. Tell him it was panic and anxiety that had dragged you here, but you couldn't bring yourself to it. "No..", you whispered just as another sob slipped past your lips, and your hand instantly came to rest on Carmy's. "Just... hold me", you blurt out, breaking completely after that. All the nerves flowed freely down your cheeks alongside your tears. "Hold me, Carmy", and he did. And it's selfish. It's wrong, but you curl into him. Wrapping your whole body all around him. Clinging to him like a child. Letting his heat pour into you. Welcoming it. Trying to take handfuls of it in case he decides to take it away eventually. Rob you of the only happiness you had.

The days after that were a blur. You didn't leave the bed, and Carmy once again says nothing. He did slip back home early, sometimes even making midday stops. Bringing food that you rarely touched. Going as far as bringing home flowers, something he hadn't done since the first weeks of you two being together. You wondered if he ever noticed that you always kept and dried some of the petals from the bouquets that he gifted you. Now you just stared at the delicate, barely blooming things on the kitchen table while they stared at you. Until it got too heavy. Too real, and you dragged yourself back to the bedroom.

It had been close to a week when you found yourself walking the same old streets leading to the restaurant. The numbness had subsided. You managed a basic conversation with Carmen without bursting into tears. That was enough for the guilt of not doing enough in the restaurant and not helping Carmy grow. So after an hour-long shower, you quickly pulled your hair into a messy bun, threw some old baggy jeans on, pulled one of the older Carmy's hoodies on, and headed out.

"Get out of my way", Sydney's voice rang out even through the chaos of the kitchen assembly. A shiver ran through your body. What a hellhole this was if it had turned that girl into a shouting mess within days. "Fuck off, leave me alone", she barked, and you quickly stepped forward. Raising a warning finger at Tina, who was about to speak up. "Are you sure?", Marcus's gentle voice filled your ears. "I'm fucking sure! You ask Carmy if he was sure. You don't", the full force of Sydney's voice sent ripples through the place. What had happened here to make everyone so on edge? "So stick to your shit", she spat back at Marcus, who stood dead silent there.

You loved the guy. He was as sweet as a honey bun. Not a single bad bone in his body. So you gently rested your hand on his back, running it up and down in a comfortable manner. His eyes fell on you, and like a wave of relief, a wave of ease flowed through them. "Y/N", he muttered as you smiled at him softly, letting him wrap you up in a side hug for a moment. "Step out, chef", you murmured, patting his chest. "I'll take it from here", Marcus only nodded, giving Sydney one more apologetic look before slipping out of the freezer.

When the doors were barely open, you turned back to Sydney, who was standing there looking as on edge as you had felt all of this time. You reached your hands towards her. "Come here", you mumbled, inviting her into your embrace. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, shaking her head no. But you still stepped forward, wrapping your arms around her gently, and her frozen figure instantly let up. "Fuck, shit, I'm sorry", she muttered as a couple of tears fell from her eyes. "Yeah, not a big deal. Breathe for a minute, mhm?", you said softly, giving her time to feel it out. Give her enough breathing space. "This place sucks ass", she sighed, her head resting on your shoulder. "Tell me about it", you breathed out with a light chuckle.

"Fuck Carmy too, and I'm sorry, but fuck him", the amazement in her voice you had heard before when she talked of him was long gone. "He put so much shit on, wants me to do so much, but then.. then he takes off running", pulling away, Sydney runs her hands over her face in frustration. Then she stops, looking at you for a moment, and says, "I thought he was running to you, so I...", she must have seen the expression on your face because Sydney's voice died down, and she just nodded her head. You lowered your eyes to the floor. Ran off. Claire, no doubt. In a rush. Probably all excited. Probably even glad that you weren't around here much.

"You look like shit,", Sydney breathed out, "Sorry, but...", she shook her head, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh. "No, no, I saw myself in the mirror before I left. I know I look amazing", you air-quoted the last word, and Sydney snickered alongside you. You sat there for some time. Just letting the rare moment of silence surround you. "You don't let them kill your spark; you hear me", you said, turning to Sydney and gently tapping her thigh, "Throw shit back at them, but don't let them take away what you love most". Her eyes watched you, just like the first time you told her that you were proud of her. Just this time she leaned over, embracing you in another hug before muttering, "You don't know how much this means to me". But you knew. Because you knew how much it meant to you and how many times you hoped that someone would say those same words to you. But just like St. Frances's prayer went, Where there is darkness, let me be light.

"I'll be back as soon as possible", Carmy's voice rang through your apartment as he was getting ready to leave. He had opted for one of the later mornings. Drank coffee with you and ate at the same table. "I want to go to that market with you", he said while putting on the shirt. "We can", you muttered back, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest. "Stop by to eat before we go", Carmy stepped closer to you, hands resting on your hips as he looked at you.

"We'll get through this", he muttered, leaning against you. "I love you; take care of yourself today", he said, cupping your face in his hands. Carmy pressed a kiss on your forehead. Your hands sneaked beneath his shirt, fingers dancing on his naked skin, which was always way warmer than yours. You hesitated for a moment. Not sure if your decision was the right one. "Can we talk tonight? I want to talk about this. What's going on", your voice was barely a whisper, but from the way Carmy's eyes glistened, you knew that he heard you just fine. He smiled softly at you, kissing your forehead once more before bringing you closer to his embrace. "We'll talk later," he said, "Talk about it all if you want". You followed him to the door, holding onto his hand until Carmy had stepped far enough away from you, his fingers slipping through yours. "Be more gentle with them today", you called after him. Carmy looked up from the staircase and said, "Heard, chef".

You had found joy in cleaning the space for the time. Going as far as unpacking all the kitchen stuff from the boxes. A light smile on your face as you slowly filled out the empty shelves and drawers, sorting everything out just like you knew that Carmy was going to love it. Maybe that's another part of what's been missing—this sense of stability and belonging. You never wanted to stay in New York for long; sure, Carmy was doing wonders there, but you had hoped that you two would move to a smaller, less crowded city after you were done with your studies. Finally, start something new for yourself. Life sure altered those plans, but you also helped it get worse. Those boxes could have easily been unlocked weeks ago. You just mentally told yourself not to.

You had just finished cutting up the empty boxes when the doorbell rang. Strange, you thought as you looked at the clock. It was way too early for Carmy to be home, and you weren't even supposed to meet here. Maybe he left his keys and wallet? Something for the restaurant? You dropped the box cutter to the side, getting up quickly and paddling towards the door. "What did you...", but your voice died down almost as soon as it started. You blinked a couple of times, "How can I help you?".

The girl shifted awkwardly, backing away so she could look at the number above the door before she took a second glance at you. "I'm looking for Carmen", she said, a smile spreading across her face. "I think this is the right apparent, but... He never said someone lived with him". You clenched the door handle in your hand so hard that your knuckles turned white. "Let me guess, Claire?". you said through gritted teeth. She smiled so brightly that, for a split second, the urge to punch her was burning bright within you.

"Same old, can I come in?", she pointed to the still somewhat ajar door, "I can just wait for him inside; I won't bother you". You clenched your jaw. You weren't even sure what you were thinking. If she knew where he lived. If he had told her that. Was he hoping you would get out of the apartment sooner to do your daily walk to the local gallery and he could just be here with her? "Of course, make yourself at home", you yanked the door open, moving to the side.

"So you two are roommates?", she asked so innocently, making you let out a chuckle as you watched her move around the place. "Yeah, it might be just that", you said bluntly, still unsure of what to do next. "And you two? How do you know him?", you asked after a while, your tone more than bitter. Her face softens as she sits down on the little, run-down sofa. "Childhood sweethearts, been Claire Bear ever since", she chimed, and you could swear you heard your heart breaking. A nickname. He had even given her a nickname. And she must have been his first, meaning that all you two had... Everything Carmy said was just between you and he was a lie. You blinked quickly a couple of times.

"How sweet...", you muttered, turning away from her, as the first tears rolled down your cheeks, but you quickly wiped them off. "You know...", you said, turning back to her. Letting yourself glance at how stunning she was. "Good you're here; I was just moving out and had to run", you blurt out. "I'll leave you here with the keys if you don't mind", plastering the fakest smile, you watched her nod before you darted towards your bedroom. Yanking the first box in front of you open, shoving random stuff into your bag. Kicking random stuff out of your way. You wanted to scream about how stupid you were. Was that why Richie hated you? He must know about her. All of them. All of his family. Maybe they even think they are together, and then who were you, some random bimbo showing up uninvited?

You thought about just walking out like that. You didn't own any of them anything. Especially not her, but you still halted, "Do tell Carm that I'm proud of him; he did a good job", and with that, you slipped out. Rushing down the stairs.

You barely saw where you were going through the tears that were now flowing freely down your cheeks. Was taking the car a bad idea? Yes, but you needed to get as far away from all of this. Another person honked at you, making you swirl the steering wheel in the opposite direction. You weren't thinking straight; you knew that. Equally, as much as you know that you shouldn't be driving now. You weren't even sure if you could stop where you did, but you were beyond caring. Quickly shuffling through your bag, you reached for your phone. You wiped your eyes messily as you tried to find the right caller id.

There was no one here. You didn't have a family here. There were no friends you could crash at. This wasn't your city. You should have never come here in the first place. "Bunny, bunny, bunny", the smooth voice quickly replaced the calling sound, and you clapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sob from slipping through your lips. "Long time no call. I was starting to think you had forgotten about me", it called out, you shook your head even if no one could see it. Your insides felt like they were going to explode. The line went silent. You tried to speak up, but you just couldn't get a single sound to escape your throat. "Bun?", it called out again, much more concerned this time. Just how you wished someone would have been considered for you ever since. That broke the last string within you, making you let out such a heartbreaking sob that you felt sorry for yourself at the moment. You just cried there until you could finally pull yourself together enough to mutter, "Luca".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @nishinoyahhh @thewulf @shewasthelimit @chatitajens @azxulaa @hidingfromtex @randomhoex @hopplessdreamer @lostinheavensworld

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #the bear x you #the bear tv show #the bear x reader #the bear imagine

781 notes · View notes

velchronica · 7 months

Text

imperfect love ♬~*.°₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ itoshi sae

maybe i'll cry for a love that isn't perfect yet

but i wanna make endless stories

like the ones hidden inside an old book

or, since meeting you, all itoshi sae wants is a sappy happily ever after with you.

content: established relationship, gn!reader, fluff, sfw

wc: 1.0k

sae falls asleep to the sound of your breaths, the rise and fall of your chest underneath the weight of his arm over your waist. he’d rather fall asleep next to you every night—and most nights he does—but sometimes it simply cannot he helped, so when he’s away from home, he facetimes you until one of you falls asleep or has to go.

he easily falls asleep to your voice over call, phone on the bedside table next to him, and you only hang up once he’s quiet for at least half an hour and is no longer responding to you with a barely-there ‘mhm.’ after all, sae has never been much of a chatterbox to begin with, per se, so it’s not unusual for him to just listen, to savour your voice telling him about your day, to bask in the mimicry of nomalcy as you go about your day as usual on the phone to him, as if he’s there with you.

people are, more often than not, surprised by the sweet and affectionate nature of your longstanding relationship. while you’re all soft smiles, sunshines and rainbows, he’s terse, with sharp edges and a mind and mouth just as sharp. he’s cold, and spares no effort to sugarcoat his opinions nor fake humility to the masses, whereas you are warm and modest, never asking for anything in return for your kindness and hard work. still, despite this, your relationship is built upon strong and sturdy foundations, and the home you have built together is full of love and joy.

where he is can be too closed up, sometimes too wrapped up in himself, you encourage him to be more open-minded and compassionate. where you can be careless and impulsive, he is there to tie up any loose ends you’ve left behind. though your worlds do not excessively collide, they do overlap. while you don’t necessarily need each other to complete your own individual existence, you bring out the better and the best out of one another. you’ve learned through time and patience that symbiosis is often the better alternative to codependency.

there have been ups and downs to your relationships. you’re both only human after all, and no relationship is perfect; with personal flaws can come misunderstandings or miscommunication. the thing that sets successful couples apart from those that break up, however, is how you maintains and manages the things that strain your relationship. to maintain a balance between your independence and your time together is key, especially when sae is away from home so often.

it’s not uncommon for you to fall asleep in sae’s arms, only for the bed to be cold and half-empty in the morning. sometimes his voice or his face over the phone isn’t enough to keep out the doubt and anxiety gnawing at your heart. you don’t want to welcome him home with frustration and tears, but on the rare occasion you do, sae understands. he knows how much trust and faith it takes for you to wait for someone who will leave not long after.

but you also know it was your choice. you knew, when you agreed to start dating sae, that it wasn’t always going to be candy-floss and kitten fluff. you knew how much sae treasured his dreams, his work, his success, how much effort he had poured into crafting the formula to take over the field. you admire him for his tenacity and diligence, and you would never expect him to give up football for you.

you’d never understood why people say you should be willing to sacrifice in a relationship. compromise, yes, but sacrifice? if the person you love can’t accept you for what you are and do, then they don’t love you, not really. at least, that’s what you think.

but that’s why sae is your forever and always. sae loves you for your flaws, not despite them, and that makes all the difference in the world. he never expects you to show him the ‘best side’ of yourself at all times, because he knows how much faith you have in him to bare yourself wholeheartedly to him, to not shy away.

you’re lucky, you think, so unbelievably lucky to have sae in your life. for him to love you. for every day you spend with sae.

unbeknownst to you, sae thinks the same thing. he thinks it so often, hundreds of times a day, and he thinks you’ll say yes if he grabs that little box out of his suitcase and gets on one knee someday soon.

he hopes you’ll cry—tears of joy, not anguish or pain. that way he can wipe them away for you, hold your face in his hands and kiss you like there’s no tomorrow. hold you in his arms like the fool in love he is, so utterly enamoured and enchanted by you.

he doesn’t know how it happened, but he’s not complaining that it did. somewhere along the line he’d ended up completely bewitched by your mellifluous laughter, your sunny smile. there’s something perfect in coming home to you, knowing someone yearns for him in such a way. perhaps it isn’t this penthouse that’s home, but your warm and loving presence. he’s not quite sure. almost, though.

but what he is sure he knows is that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. where he once wanted to write his name into history with a football career like no other, something deep inside would be wholly content to just have the memories of being yours. he wants to spend every day cherishing you, loving you, never yearning from thousands of miles away, but rather holding you close, lovesick and sappier than ever. happier than ever. happier than he’s ever known.

itoshi sae’s happily ever after is a forever after with you.

he can’t believe what you’ve turned him into. a lovesick, lovelorn fool. but still, waking up to the sound of your shallow, breaths, your body curled up into his, and the warmth of your presence—it’s fine.

this is his happily ever after, an imperfect love it may be.

#bllk x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock x reader #bluelock #bluelock x reader #bllk fic #itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #sae x you #sae x y/n #♫ songfic #♬~*.°₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ vivi

207 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 5 months

Text

Yearling - Ch. 35: Answers

You leave Jackson to find your daughters. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-34 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 5.4k

A/N: We are into the final arc of Yearling and we are going to see some TLOU 2 OVERLAP again. There isn't any this chapter but there will be in this arc and here's how: a character from that game will be mentioned as will the spoiler-y incident from a few chapters ago. What happens plot wise in this arc is completely separate from the game and entirely original content BUT there is that character overlap and more specific mentions of the incident and the motives behind it. If you're trying to go in blind to season 2, it might be wise to step back. Feel free to send me a DM, I'm happy to answer any and all questions!

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It was hard not to panic when the world was ending.

You’d lived through it enough by now, you thought you’d get used to it.

You never did.

“Who has them, Kyle?” You asked, holding the boy’s shoulders, searching his eyes. He was still panting for breath, still looking terrified. “I need you to focus, who has them.”

“That man, the one who was here a few months ago but left,” he said. “I can’t… He gave me so much to remember and I can’t…”

“Cody?” You asked quickly, even though you knew you were right, your chest tight. “Does that sound right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded quickly. “Yes, Cody, it was Cody, he has them. He sent me here, to find you. He told me to bring you and just you back, said if we came with anyone else he’d kill them. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Miller, I was just trying to help, I swear…”

Your head spun but you didn’t have time to try to calm yourself down or even come up with a fucking plan.

“Did he say why?” You asked, leaving the teenager hovering in your doorway as you went to your kitchen. You found a notebook and ripped a piece of paper out of it, the pen hovering over it for a moment. Like once you wrote what was going to happen there was no turning back.

“He said you owed him,” he said. “And he that he would collect with them if it wasn’t with you. He said you’d know what that meant.”

You held the pen a little tighter. You did know what he meant and you knew the kind of man Cody was, what he would take if you let him.

You couldn’t let him.

“Kyle, go in the closet by the front door,” you said, wondering how your voice wasn’t shaking. “There’s my patrol pack in there, it has my flashlight, my axe and my knife. Get them.”

It wasn’t going to be enough but you didn’t have guns in the house and getting one would require talking to someone else, something you couldn’t risk, not when it was Savvy and Ellie on the line. You’d have to make do.

You tried to think of what to say to Joel, the man you loved more than you ever thought it was possible to love someone like that. How did you say goodbye to someone who meant that much to you when you didn’t want to leave?

You did the best you could, signing your name - your real one - for the first time since you’d married Joel.

“Found them,” Kyle said as you folded the paper in half and wrote Joel’s name on one side of it, leaving the note leaning against the flowers that he had picked for you before leaving town. You looked around the kitchen, at the spot on the counter where you perched as your husband cooked for you and the table where you sat with him and took a deep breath, hoping you’d see it all again.

“You know where to go, right?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I memorized it.”

“OK,” you said, clipping your knife to your belt, thankful that you’d just fallen asleep fully clothed so you didn’t have to stop to get dressed. You were in one of Joel’s shirts. You always were, when he was outside Jackson, when he promised to come home to you. “Lead the way.”

You followed Kyle through the dark, quiet town. Even the Tipsy Bison was silent and you realized you weren’t sure what time it was but it had to be late, at least 3 a.m.

“We’ll have to sneak out,” Kyle said, his voice low. “It’s what we did when…”

You couldn’t think about it.

“Show me.”

There was an area of the fence, covered by a woodpile and not far from the schoolhouse, that easily pried apart, leaving enough room for a person to slip outside.

Kyle climbed through first and held it for you to follow before the two of you scrambled for the nearest tree line, hoping that you made it out of town unnoticed.

“How far?” You asked, looking back over your shoulder, your heart pounding.

“Three hours, I think,” he said. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Miller…”

“Tell me all of it,” you said, ignoring his apology. It didn’t matter now. “I need to know what we’re walking into.”

It made so much sense when he laid it out for you.

Savvy and Ellie had snuck out of Jackson the first night Joel was gone, the friends they were hanging out with apparently slipping out regularly. They stashed some pot outside the walls and liked to go sit and smoke when they thought they wouldn’t get into trouble, where they felt like they had some freedom. It was so typical of teenagers, it was almost funny. That even in the apocalypse, in a place like Jackson, the children found ways to rebel. Kyle and Savvy had wandered off from the group. They didn’t go far, just far enough that they felt like they had some privacy. Kyle wanted to ask her to the dance that was happening in a few weeks.

That’s where they ran into Cody.

He’d been nice, at first. Asking after Jackson, how things had been there. How he was thinking about trying to come back. He asked for information, enough that Savvy was starting to feel skeptical.

And then Ellie found them.

Ellie was worried, thinking that Savvy had been off on her own with a boy a little too long, and set off to find them. But she’d snapped when she saw Cody. She was a smart girl, she didn’t leave Jackson unarmed and she put her knife to Cody’s throat.

He’d just smiled, something in his eyes that made Kyle uneasy, more uneasy than Ellie’s knife did.

“Should fucking kill you right now,” Ellie had said, getting in his face. “Joel never should have let you live, I don’t give a fuck what she says…”

“Ellie!” Savvy tried to go for her but Kyle stopped her, catching her around her waist and holding her back. “You can’t just kill him, he hasn’t done anything!”

“Should listen to your sister, little girl,” Cody smirked. “I don’t come back, there’s a whole new set of problems for that perfect little town of yours.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie spat.

“You that serious?” He asked. “Come and get me. Tomorrow night. Bring your mom.” He’d looked at Savvy in a way that made Kyle feel sick. “And get your sister on board. Something tells me she might not know the real reason I left Jackson.”

Cody walked away then, Ellie’s grip still tight on the knife for a minute before she put an arm around Savvy and stalked back off toward town. Kyle couldn’t hear what they were saying.

When they made it back as dawn was on the horizon, he still wasn’t sure what set Ellie off. He wasn’t sure when Ellie and Savvy came to him the next afternoon, either, to ask him to go with them to find Cody that night.

“I want to have the upper hand,” Ellie had said. “And you already know about him.”

Savvy looked different then, something set and angry on her face. Kyle tried to ask her what was wrong but she wouldn’t tell him. He just went along with their plan, Ellie and Savvy out for Cody’s blood and Kyle wanting to keep the girl he was starting to fall for safe.

But they made a mistake.

They were outnumbered from the start, Cody bringing a dozen men to capture them. Ellie killed one as Kyle tried to run with Savvy but they failed.

“Thought I told you to bring your mom,” Cody had said. “But that’s OK. Sure we can work something out.”

He hauled the three of them away, walking a few hours into the forest, before sending Kyle back to Jackson to get you.

It explained so much of what had happened over the last day. The cagey way Ellie and Savvy were talking in the mess hall, the way Savvy had hugged you - Ellie had to have told her something - like she hadn’t in months, the odd way they were acting when you checked on them that night.

“How many men were there?” You asked.

“A lot,” Kyle said. “I don’t know for sure. At least 12 to grab us, we met up with probably another dozen or so after that…”

“Right,” you said, your heart clenching. You weren’t making it out of this. You tried to resign yourself to that, that the best you could hope for right now was getting the kids out in one piece. “Did he say what he wanted?”

“Besides you?” Kyle asked. “No. I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller…”

“It’s OK,” you said, trying to keep him calm. “You did your best, you stayed alive, that’s the important thing.”

The two of you walked in silence for a while, your heart pounding the whole time. You focused on getting to the girls. That’s all that mattered. You tried not to think about what was waiting for you on the other side of it.

“When we find them, let me do the talking,” you said as the sunrise tinted the horizon red. “And stay behind me. If you see a chance to get Savvy or Ellie away, do it. Otherwise, do what I tell you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, a tremble in his voice. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Miller, I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” you said quietly. “Just get them home.”

You caught a glimpse of someone moving in the woods then, just on the edge of your vision, your head whipping around to track the motion on instinct. It was baked into you still, moving through the forest alone, being on guard, knowing when you were being watched. You’d survived most of your life that way and years in Jackson hadn’t pulled it out of you. The second you realized it was a man and not an animal, you adjusted your grip on your axe with one hand and reached behind you with the other, shifting your body so you were between Kyle and the man.

It took you half a second to place his familiar face, one of Mitchum’s henchmen who was low enough that he wasn’t allowed to touch you, a slow smirk spreading over his face.

“Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he emerged from a fern and gave a long, low whistle. “Mitchum’s been lookin’ for you.”

“Bet he’s been lookin’ for you, too,” your hold on the axe tightened. You wanted to kill him but you couldn’t, not when you didn’t know where Ellie and Savvy were. “Unless you’re still his little bitch. But I don’t think he took too kindly to you taking off on him to serve some other asshole.”

“You always did have a mouth on you,” he said, trees and brush at your back starting to rustle. “But look where that got you.”

“And you were up his ass for how long?” You asked. “Where’d that get you, exactly?”

His eyes narrowed and you tracked where you were hearing movement around you, the sound drawing closer. Kyle’s shaky hand grabbed at your bicep.

“Don’t think the boss would be too happy with you picking a fight with our biggest commodity,” a man said from behind you. Kyle gasped and you felt him jump but you kept your eyes on the first man. “You know what he wants with her.”

“And what’s that, exactly?” You called over your shoulder, still tracking where Kyle was with your unoccupied hand.

“Leverage, of course,” the man came around to the front of you, smirking just like his friend. You didn’t recognize him. “Mitchum has the biggest operation around these parts and you, it seems, are the only thing he wants that he doesn’t have. Give him you on a silver platter? We get first pick of new territory.”

He looked you up and down in a way that reminded you of inspecting livestock. Your stomach turned.

“Don’t really see what all the fuss is about but,” he shrugged. “Don’t really give a shit.”

“You got my girls?” You asked, cutting to the chase.

His smile grew.

“So the boss was right,” he shook his head a little. “You women, so predictable…”

“If they’re not in one piece, I got no reason to leave you two idiots alive,” you snapped, losing your patience. You needed to see your daughters and you needed to see them now. “So if you don’t want my axe in your goddamn chest, you’re gonna take me to them right fucking now.”

He licked his lips.

“Might get the fuss a little more now,” he said, stepping close to you. He knew he had you, knew that you wouldn’t do anything that would risk Savvy or Ellie. “Gonna need that axe and knife and anything else you got on you or the boy. Then we’ll see if we can’t find your girls.”

You narrowed your eyes but surrendered your weapons anyway.

“Mrs. Miller…” Kyle whispered but you shushed him.

“I’ll keep you safe,” you glanced behind you toward him. “Stay calm and do what they tell you.”

You turned your attention back to the men in front of you, more emerging from the trees now.

“If you’ve hurt either of them, you have no idea the shit storm you just brought down on your heads.”

“Not much of a threat without your little toys,” he looked them over. “Something tells me we can take you just fine unarmed.”

“Cody tell you what I did to the men who tried to catch me last time I got out?” You asked, brows raised. For half a moment, there was a flash of concern on the first man’s face. You nodded to him. “He knows. Take me to my girls before you find out first hand.”

The second man quirked his jaw before jerking his head in the direction you’d been walking.

“Keep up.”

You only needed to follow them another 15 minutes or so, your heart pounding the whole time. Eventually, you came upon a clearing, a fire dying at the center of it with Cody standing right behind it, watching you approach with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Hey there baby doll,” he said, prowling around the fire to meet you. “You don’t look too happy to see me.”

“Where are my daughters.”

He ignored you, like you hadn’t spoken at all.

“You’d think that, after last time, you’d learn…”

“Where are my daughters.”

“…that you should at least pretend to be grateful when you see me…”

Your patience was gone. If he didn’t have Ellie and Savvy, there was no point to this. No point to his game, no point to trying to make it out alive. You needed to see them and you needed to see them now.

The man at your left had a handgun in a holster on his right, one he wasn’t paying close attention to, his hands on his rifle that was strapped across his body. You, on the other hand, had paid attention.

You went for the gun, moving fast enough that he didn’t know what was happening until he felt the tug of you pulling the weapon from his side, turning to face you with a frown on his face after you freed the revolver, pulling the hammer back as you raised it and pulled the trigger. He dropped, Kyle screaming in shock at your back, and you turned the gun on Cody, pulling the hammer back again.

“WHERE ARE MY FUCKING KIDS!”

You could feel every gun and eye turn to you as you fought to control your breathing, the sound of birds taking flight the only sound beyond the echo of the gunshot and your scream. But you knew they wouldn’t shoot you, not when you were apparently so valuable to their boss and their boss was still breathing. And if they were smart, the wouldn’t hurt Savvy or Ellie, either.

“You know you wouldn’t make it out of here alive,” Cody said, stepping closer, until the barrel of the gun was in his chest.

“You think that matters if they’re gone?” You asked, brows raised. “If you killed them, all that matters is that I kill as many of you as I can before you take me down and I’m a damn good shot. So. Give me my daughters or another one of these fuckers dies.”

He gave you a cocky smirk and whistled. There was rustling somewhere you couldn’t see but, after a moment, three men brought out Savvy and Ellie, bound and gagged. You clenched your jaw but stayed still, eyes ranging over them as quickly as you could, looking for all signs of injury. They were still dressed, a good sign. Ellie had a cut at her forehead, Savvy had a bloody bandage at her arm. You clenched your fist on the revolver.

“See?” Cody said. “All in one piece. Now, hand over the gun before we have to change that.”

Ellie’s eyes went wide and she shook her head at you, frantic, but you ignored her.

“Untie them,” you said, gun still in his chest.

“Gonna need a little more incentive than that,” he said. “I know how you are with people who do you favors…”

“Untie them,” you said again, pulling your eyes away from the girls to meet his. “Let me talk to them, make sure they’re OK, then let them go with their friend. And I mean let them go, your men stay where I can fuckin’ see ‘em. You do that? I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” He asked, looking you up and down.

Your stomach turned.

“You heard me,” you spat.

He mulled it over for a second before smiling, cocky.

“Deal,” he said, jerking his head toward one of his men. They moved to untie Savvy and Ellie. “I’ll take that gun now.”

You lowered the weapon and turned it around in your hand before holding it out to him, handle first. He took it.

“Good as you are, don’t know if I ever thought your pussy was worth all the fuss Mitchum made over you,” he said, handing the gun to one of his henchmen. “But damn if it ain’t fun to watch you break.”

“Mom!” Savvy was freed first, running for you and throwing her arms around your neck. You clutched onto her, clinging to her, breathing in the scent of her, floral with a hint of apple and hay and gunpowder. “I’m so sorry, Mom, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s OK,” your voice was thick and you tried to focus on how she felt in your arms so you could hold onto that memory before stepping back from her. “Are you OK? They touch you?”

“I’m fine,” she sniffed. “They got my arm a little but…”

“They haven’t touched you since you’ve been here?” You asked, brows raised. “No one’s hurt you or…”

“No,” she shook her head. “No, they tied us up but they haven’t done anything.”

“Good,” you nodded, brushing her thick curls back from her forehead. “That’s good.”

Ellie approached you cautiously, like she was waiting for you to yell at her but you didn’t. You didn’t even want to, there was no point to it. Instead, you pulled her into your arms and held her tight as she pressed her face into your shoulder. You tried to remember her, too, the daughter who came into your life so late and that you desperately wanted more time with.

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice thick and wet. “I thought I could handle it, I thought…”

“S’OK,” you said, stepping back from her and looking her over, too. Her lip was split and the blood at her forehead was dried, the cut there scabbing over. “Ellie, I need you to listen to me. You’re in charge, OK? You’re going to get Savvy and Kyle back to Jackson…”

“But -”

“No,” you said, harsher than you really meant. “This ain’t a discussion, this is me telling you what you’re going to do, do you understand me.”

“I can’t just leave you here!” Her eyes were wide and desperate and you forced yourself to be calm.

“Yes, you can,” you said, taking her by the shoulders. “Ellie, the most important thing you can do right now is take care of your sister, do you understand me?” She nodded. “You get her and Kyle back to town. You’ve patrolled, you know how to do it safely. Get them there. That’s your job, they are your responsibility. Promise me you’ll get them home.”

She looked like she wanted to argue but you held her tighter.

“Ellie,” you said. “Promise me.”

“But…”

“Promise me!” You yelled it, loud enough that you saw Savvy flinch out of the corner of your eye.

“I promise,” she said, crying now.

It was like a weight lifted. You knew it was hours back to Jackson but, if Ellie actually kept her word, they’d make it. They would be safe. That was all that mattered.

“Thank you,” you pulled her in for another hug, kissing her cheek as you did. “I love you so much. Take care of yourself and your dad for me, OK?”

“I love you too,” she breathed.

You gave her a final squeeze and went for Savvy who was fighting back tears.

“Mom,” her voice was thick and wet. “I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” you said gently. “Go with Ellie, do what she tells you and you’ll get back safe. Listen to Joel, stick with school, find your place in Jackson. Have a good life, OK?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t want to do it without you,” she’d given up on not crying now. “I tried to before and I don’t want that, you need to be there, Mom, I need you, I…”

“Savvy,” you said, holding her face in your hands, brushing her tear-streaked cheeks with your thumbs. “Everything I’ve done for as long as you’ve been mine has been for you but you don’t need me now. You’re all that matters. You get back safe, you have a good life with people you love. You do that and I’ll have done everything I needed to do. So give me that, OK?”

You didn’t give her a chance to reply, just pulling her in close and holding her there, kissing her cheek as you did.

“I love you so much, baby girl,” you whispered.

“I love you, too,” she said.

You stepped back and looked at them for a moment before casting a glance at Cody.

“They need weapons.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

You rounded on him.

“Give them weapons,” you said through clenched teeth. “Or I’ll kill as many of your men as I can between here and Mitchum.”

He smirked a little before jerking his head in the direction of one of his men. They surrendered knives you recognized - ones you were sure Ellie and Savvy had come here with - and your axe.

“Better get going,” Cody said. “Before I change my mind.”

You just nodded and watched them go, Ellie and Savvy looking back at you as long as they could, Ellie pulling Savvy along side her as they went. You kept looking at the place where they’d been long after you couldn’t see them anymore.

“Alright Doll,” Cody said eventually, stepping forward with cuffs in his hands. “Wrists together. Not about to risk you changing your mind on that deal. You’re a little too valuable and it’s time for me to cash in.”

***

“Joel.”

Tommy sounded desperate. Joel ignored him.

“You can’t just take off…”

Tommy’s hand came to Joel’s shoulder but he ripped it off, rounding on his brother, moving quickly and decisively and backing the younger, smaller man into a building.

“You tryin’ to tell me I can’t protect my family?” Joel towered over him. “You gonna try and stop me?”

“Can’t do shit for them if you run out there hot headed,” Tommy said, his eyes darting over Joel’s face, like he was watching a wild animal. “You can’t help them if you’re dead, you need to wait, you need a plan…”

“I have a fuckin’ plan!” He didn’t have time for this. “Get my girls back. Don’t try to fuckin’ stop me.”

“Joel,” Maria’s voice was behind him, calm and collected. He turned to face her, ready to go through her, too, if he had to. “We have everyone out looking for them, there are no fresh horses because we sent everyone we had as soon as we could. We’re looking for their trail but they could be anywhere. Wait until we have people back to go with you, wait until we know where they went. If you run off now, you’re only going to make it worse. You’ll waste time. Give it a few hours, Joel.”

“A few hours?” He bit out. “You want me to sit here for a few fuckin’ hours while that monster has my wife and kids? Expect me to let him hurt them for hours while I fuckin’ wait?”

Maria didn’t have a chance to respond, the sound of chaos at the gate sending the three of them running for it.

Joel reached it just as three horses rode up. It took him a moment to realize they each carried more than one rider. His heart pounded. For one second - a glorious, peaceful second - he thought everything was going to be OK. That they’d found you and the girls before anything bad happened, that he was going to be able to hold the three of you close and never let you go again.

And then he realized that you weren’t there. That you’d gotten the children you shared with him back but you hadn’t made it.

“Joel!” Ellie jumped off her horse before it had fully stopped. “Joel, he has Bambi, we have to go get her, we have to.”

She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him and he could feel her taking shaky breaths.

“It’s OK Baby Girl,” he said, holding her close. “I’ve got you, you’re OK.”

“We have to go get her,” Ellie said again, frantic as she pulled back from him. “We have to.”

Joel, Tommy and Maria led the girls and a trembling Kyle to the clinic. Ellie and Savvy didn’t wait for the doctor to be done looking them over as they sat beside each other on the exam table, the story spilling out of them quickly. How they’d lied to you and snuck out of Jackson the first night he was gone. How they’d run into Cody in the woods. How Ellie threatened to kill him and Savvy didn’t understand why. How he told them to come back the next night with you. How Ellie had told Savvy everything she knew about what happened to you. How Savvy wanted to leave then and there to take care of it and Ellie had to make her wait, confident that they could handle him. How Ellie had killed men like him before, how she was sure she could do it again. How they got help from Kyle to be sure. How it had all gone to shit the second they were too far from Jackson to get help. How you’d come for them, how you’d sacrificed yourself to get the three of them out safely.

How Joel knew that’s exactly what you would do.

Because of course you would. It was exactly what he would have done. How would you have done anything else?

“We need to get her back, Joel,” Savvy was crying, pleading. “We can’t leave her there with him, we can’t, please…”

Joel looked between the two of them. He wanted to scream. He wanted to ask why. Why had they snuck out? Why had they tried to take matters into their own hands? Why had they put themselves in such danger? Didn’t they know, if they failed, you’d have no choice? That you would do anything for them? That he would, too?

But yelling and questioning wouldn’t do any good. What was done was done. Taking his fear out on them would only make shit worse.

“I’m gonna get her back, Baby Girl,” Joel said. “I’m gonna bring her home.”

He turned and gave Tommy a look, half begging for help, half daring him to stop him. Tommy just squared his jaw and gave him a single, firm nod. Joe returned it and the went to leave, but Ellie stopped them, catching them on the porch of the clinic.

“I’m coming, too.”

“No,” Joel shook his head. “No, you’re stayin’ here…”

“No,” she said sharply, a fierce look in her eyes. “I’m going. I can help, I know…”

“It don’t matter,” Joel cut her off. “Not putting you at risk…”

“I don’t care about the risk!” She snapped. “You can’t just expect me to sit here on my ass while she’s out there…”

“You think she’d want you gettin’ hurt for her?” Joel grabbed Ellie by the shoulders and held her tighter than he should. “She took care of you by…”

“By cleaning up a fucking mess I made!” She yelled before closing her eyes for a moment, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She took a deep, centering breath before opening her eyes again, voice calmer now. “I never had parents, Joel. I never had anyone who loved me like that until you and then she showed up and she didn’t have any fucking reason to care about me like that but she did. She’s my mom and I got her hurt because I tried to handle shit on my own. I’m not handling it on my own now, I’m handling it with you. I know what you’re capable of. I know what you’re going to do. I’m telling you that I don’t want to be here when you do it, I want to be with you. I want to get her back and I want to make him fucking pay and I can’t do that from Jackson. So are you going to let me come with you or are you going to make me sneak out and try to handle this shit on my own again?”

Joel looked to his brother. He’d done shit like this more times than he cared to count but only twice with stakes as high as this. Every time, it was either alone or with Tommy at his side. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do what he normally did with Ellie there. He’d be worrying about her, watching for her, protecting her.

But they were out numbered and Ellie was a strong rider who was smart and good with a gun.

“She’s an adult, Joel,” Tommy said hesitantly. Joel could see in his eyes that he was thinking about William, if he would let his son do something so reckless if he had any say. “And she does a good job on patrol.”

Joel took a deep breath.

“You gotta listen,” he said. Ellie was already nodding quickly. “Do what I say so I can keep us all safe. I tell you to get back to Jackson, you do it. If you’re a liability out there, you’re makin’ things worse for her, not better. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Repeat it.”

“What you say goes,” she said, watching him closely. “I won’t fuck up, Dad. I promise.”

In another time, another place, Joel’s heart would have soared in that moment. Just knowing that Ellie saw him the same way he saw her made him feel complete in a way he didn’t realize he was missing.

But he wasn’t able to enjoy it. There was another vital piece of him that was gone, one he was going to get back if it was the last thing he ever did.

“OK,” he said, looking at Ellie. “Let’s go get your mom.”

Next Chapter

A/N: Figured we'd kick off the more feral part of this fic with some Feral!Bambi. Don't worry, Feral!Joel fans, he's up next ❤️ As always, thank you so so much for reading and for sticking it out with this fic! I know it's been a long one. I'm glad you're still here. Love you!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc

147 notes · View notes

maxblonda · 29 days

Text

vulnerability and the william carter puzzles

i've been looking at the william carter puzzles for the upteenth time this week after i got back into playing this game after months and i know a lot of people notice the changes in the portrait in maxwell's apartment (and the only time iirc he's ever seen canonically using light magic as opposed to the shadow magic he's known for but that's another post for another time) as the sequence of images goes on.. but only after looking closer have i noticed that before and after charlie first enters, the picture is that of both her and maxwell, right? that's not a surprise to anyone. he has that picture as well as other pictures of the two of them in his apartment and in the fireplace scene in the beginning of the "inevitable" musical.

but what has only just caught my eye after years of this image sequence being out is the fact that i always assumed that after maxwell returns to his apartment in person that the picture behind him turns back to normal. it doesn't. when he picks up charlie's hat mournfully, there's a different magician in the picture next to his assistant. that's not maxwell- at least not maxwell as the persona he puts on that's far more secure and confident in himself. next to charlie in that picture frame is william carter. the same unsure, nervous magician he was before he reinvented himself. but despite maxwell's sadness, there's an endearing, dopey smile on the stupid, foolish man behind him. the man who no one ever really bothered or cared to watch, unlike the amazing maxwell of san francisco, whose magic feats are nothing an average person could even imagine.

unlike maxwell, william's body is turned to face her, and his hands are not behind his back. his hands are palm up, and their figures overlap with one of his arms behind her head. he is not smug in his grin. he's not looking at the camera, but at her. because it was always about her, wasn't it? maxwell closes himself off, not expecting the warmth that she brings, or the way she makes him laugh, or the way she all but jumped into his arms with glee when he unveiled the poster announcing their next magic act.

but charlie's seen right through him. because it was always about him, wasn't it? but her gaze, her new knowledge has left him vulnerable in a disquieting, upsetting way. a narrative no longer in his control. we don't even know if he ever read the contents of the letter charlie wrote, or if he was in the right headspace to even process her genuine concern and love to him. the most he can do in his powerlessness is to bring the manic scribbles from his study out into the picture in the main room of his apartment. the picture that reflects a man back at him that he never wanted to be known as ever again. a stupid smile, a foolish innocence that makes him want to yell "can't you see i'm about to lose everything?!" because someone else knowing about the existence of Them, no matter their benevolence, is a recipe for fucking disaster. so he scratches that face right out.

for a man so guarded, the shadows are more than happy to give him what he wants. the man in the picture left behind after he and charlie disappear into the constant makes it clear that he's left william carter behind in the rubble of the real world for good. and it's not a big deal. that william carter died in a train crash years ago anyways.

the king of the constant isn't the pitiful william carter. the crown weighs heavy on the head of king maxwell. and charlie is relegated to the darkness that she was convinced was merely a powerful illusion. the same darkness she was afraid of as a child.

and the only way they will ever take the stage again is with the former assistant watching, lying in wait where no one can see her as the disgraced magician and failed king reenacts a their old lives with none of the grace and all of the anger she has (and They have) held inside for not letting her in. for not being brave enough to be vulnerable.

#dst maxwell #dst charlie #maxlie #william carter #william carter puzzles #dont starve together #i think about these two so much you guys don't even know man. this went from an analysis to prose really quick i got too invested #i guess this kinda became more of a ficlet than what was originally meant to be a short post #but what can i say these two have been haunting me #dont starve

39 notes · View notes

inukag-archive · 7 months

Note

Jealously Inuyasha fanfics??

Hello there! We previously posted a list of stories centered around jealous Inuyasha, but we were able to find a few more below (featuring Inuyasha and/or Kagome as the jealous one). You might also want to check out our protective/possessive InuKag list, since there is some overlap of jealousy there too.

Happy reading!

GIF by @sleepy-edits

Jealous Hanyou by Ayster (M)

Inuyasha does not like what is his to be touched, not even a simple touch in a friendly manner. His too cute for her own good girlfriend- Kagome - works at a bar where she wears a bunny-nurse cosplay as her work uniform. When he finally gets fed up with all the horny idiots that hit on his female at work- he at last claims her as his.

The Jealous Are Troublesome to Others, but a Torment to Themselves by KuroNoHime (E)

Kagome's new, hot math tutor blows Inuyasha off his hinges and the girl of the future has finally had her quota on Inuyasha's constant, irrational jealousy. She brews a plan to serve Inuyasha some humble pie and make him admit his feelings for her.

Let me kiss your ramen-flavoured lips by @jeremymarsh & @turtleduckstudios (G)

Working as a freelancer has forced Inuyasha to leave Kagome far more than he would have liked and they’ve sort of gotten used to it. So when a well-paid job opportunity that could allow them to finally marry and secure the house of their dreams comes along he can’t refuse, even if it means they’ll be on different sides of the country for a long time.

Will jealousy and insecurities play their part too?

Or:

Inuyasha is a worrywart and that causes problems more often than not, but in the end, Kagome loves him too much to care.

InuKag - Jealousy by pastedpages (E)

A week after Kagome returns to the feudal era for good, Kōga shows up to see her—and Inuyasha isn't happy about it. Luckily for him, he's the only one she wants.

The Other Woman by legallyadragon (T)

Kagome never truly understood why Koga's baseless flirting bothered Inuyasha so much. After all, he knew she wasn't actually interested.

She understands a little bit better now, but Inuyasha shows her that she doesn't have anything to worry about.

Tits for Tat by @kitramune (E)

During Inuyasha's human night, Kagome ends up feeling something she hasn't felt in a long time. Luckily they have new ways of... venting that feeling, so to speak.

Maybe, Probably by @lavaffair (T)

They've been best friends since they were kids, and somewhere along the way, they fell in love. However, neither of them have confessed these feelings to one another. They vowed to always put each other first, and to stick by each other's side no matter what.

With finals week two weeks away, Inuyasha's classmate asks him for help to study for their big test. The same classmate who happens to have a massive crush on him.

For the first time, Kagome deals a hand with jealousy.

No One Else by @goshinote (G)

After exterminating a yokai in a small village, Inuyasha finds himself as the focus of a local woman's attentions. Since when is Inuyasha a ladies' man? Well, maybe that's stretching it.

Perfectly Flawed by dolphingirl0113 (T)

Inuyasha began to feel the cruel stab of jealousy. How was he supposed to compete with a copy of himself? A better copy? Someone without all of his flaws? “Kagome…please don’t leave me…”

Jealous Much? by Gfam89 (M)

Kagome is tired of the Kikyo and Inuyasha situation, so she goes home to get a break. She knows she can't be away from Inuyasha for too long, but when she meets another boy at school, how will Inuyasha react to her newfound 'friendship'

A Sealed Fate by @ajoy3fanfics (M)

Kikyou no longer wishes to drag InuYasha to hell, but rather pick up where they left off 50 years ago. Convinced that this is what will heal InuYashas heart, Kagome leaves the feudal era, sealing the well behind her. Or so InuYasha thinks...

Give Me Love - an InuAU by EnelyaTheSmall (T)

Inuyasha is a Mixed Martial Artist with an anger problem and Kagome is the breath of fresh air that he has so desperately needed.

Love and War by @starlingchildgazingatthestars (E)

Prompt: "We're not just friends, and you fucking know it."

Kagome is fed up with Inuyasha's obnoxious, jealous behavior, and they get into a huge fight. They may be childhood best friends, but this is getting ridiculous. They aren't even a couple! Or are they...?

Feel free to add your own recs in the comments or reblogs! Check our Masterlist of previous lists to see which topics we've covered. After reviewing our submission guidelines, send us an ask (here).

#inukag archive #inukag fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #jealous Inuyasha #jealous Kagome #jealousy part 2

69 notes · View notes

thrilling-oneway · 9 months

Text

Fate in Project SEKAI - 1/?

VBS

2.3k

1. An and Kohane

Right from the main story we're introduced to the idea that An and Kohane's first meeting was simply fate. Kohane was just a bypasser overhearing An's singing, hearing An talk about her dreams. It's this that makes Kohane reflect on herself, how she's never been passionate and never had anything she wanted to throw herself into. This girl is everything she isn't and everything she would like to be.

They don't even meet formally, but An's profession of her dream and Kohane's longing for one is what causes their SEKAI to manifest. We know from MEIKO that it's been around for a long time, but it wasn't until Kohane saw An that it revealed itself to its owners. But that could've been anyone. Anyone could've been inspired by An, or Akito and Toya, since they were involved in its creation too. Heck we could've had Kotaro who outright stated was inspired by Akito. But no, it had to be Kohane. Kohane had something she wanted to change about herself, and meeting An is the only way this could happen.

An also needed a partner, and Kohane was the perfect partner. An grew up talented surrounded by talented people. She never had any problems, she'd always been a step above everyone else. Kohane is a total beginner, far, far out of her comfort zone. They compliment each other. Kohane learns from An how to sing, how to be confident, all about her dreams and aspirations. She learns what it's like to be passionate. An learns what it means to rely on someone, what it means to wholly trust someone. A beginner is not to be protected, a beginner is to be taught. She teaches Kohane all these things, and learns what it's like to struggle too. She experiences a sense of weakness for the first time, the fear that someone will surpass her. She's not jealous, she's happy for Kohane, but she's insecure that Kohane will become too good for her, that she'll fall behind and lose the person she loves and trusts more than anyone else. It's these insecurities that push her to become even better, to improve further. She may be naturally talented but that doesn't mean you can't improve.

Kohane's fes card further touches on the idea of An being everything she wanted to be, by literally making her become An. All this time she thought she had to become An, not realising that what she truly needed was to stay being herself. Kohane wanted to change, but to change yourself doesn't mean to become someone else entirely. Kohane is still Kohane. She's still the shy girl who was too scared to do anything, but she left that girl in the past the second she chose to return to An in the main story. It's this idea of a rebirth that is touched on a lot more later on in Nagi and Akito's arcs, and VBS' arc as a whole.

2. Akito and Toya

Was Akito and Toya's meeting just a coincidence, or was it fate? I'll discuss the overlaps between coincidences and fate in this game later, but for now we'll say that yes, Akito and Toya's meeting was also fate. In fact, it's rather similar to An and Kohane's - a parallel, if you will. Not quite the same but not wholly different.

Akito had been fully devoted to soccer for his entire childhood. He was talented, the best player on the team. He put so much time and energy into it. And then he lost, and gave up. Bringing back that idea of rebirth. Akito's passion for soccer burnt out, he was done with it, and not going back. Sure he was good, but he had nothing left in him to care about it anymore. Seeing that concert relit that passion. Made him rediscover himself. Maybe he wasn't made for soccer, but made for music. Music was an opportunity to reinvent himself, much like it was for Kohane.

Toya came from a musical family. Surrounded by professional musicians, tied to the fate of music from birth. His family expected nothing less of him than to follow in their footprints, a fate pushed onto him regardless of whether he wanted it or not. It wasn't right for him and it hurt, his parents hurt him trying to make him into something he wasn't. He may be talented and experienced, but he was willing to run away from it all. The lyrics to RAD DOGS say as much. Classical music was never his real fate, his real fate lied with street music. Even then, street music was just something he chose because it was so different from the path chosen for him. It was an unknown route that he didn't know how to navigate, but nonetheless, he grew to love it. Fate cannot be chosen, so maybe Toya's spontaneous choice was leading him in the right direction.

Akito happened to meet Toya on the street one day, just like how Kohane first encountered An. Akito, who had refused to work with so many people before, immediately chose Toya on his own accord. He recognised Toya's talent, that Toya was new and inexperienced despite all that, and that Toya was someone who needed a guide in this unknown world. Akito and Toya are two sides of the same coin. Akito is bold and brash and two-faced, Toya is calm and reserved and honest. Akito has no background or talent in music, Toya has all of that. Even their colours are complete opposites. But at the end of it all, both of them chose this path as a way to reinvent themselves. Relight a fire that had burnt out within themselves, allow it to burn brighter than before. Relight, restart, reborn. It's all the same. They're one in the same despite all their differences. They compliment each other and it's what allows them to work so well together, to trust and love each other more than anyone else. Aun no Beats' title is derived from the term Aun no Kokyuu/Aun Breathing, when two people act in perfect harmony to the point of breathing the same, being able to understand each other without words. There's a reason they and no one else was chosen to cover that song.

3. Bird lore + Arata and Souma

The Walk on and on event essentially confirms that the meetings of the two pairs were indeed fate, and that they're soulmates. A word that so fully describes exactly what they are. They complete each other, understand each other and trust each other so, so deeply. Kohane would not be who she is now without An, An would not be who she is now without Kohane. The same applies to Akito and Toya, their meeting is essential to who they are now, they wouldn't have navigated this far without standing shoulder to shoulder, back to back. The best way to describe these feelings, these actions, the way they act and the way they complete each other, two halves of a whole, two sides of the same coin, two parts of the same story, would be love. Platonic or romantic, the text supports both. Kohane and An will keep working hard to become the best possible partner for each other. Akito and Toya are still learning too, how to become even better than the best partner anyone could ask for.

The cards for that event contain a few references to the idea of soulmates two. First, the costumes. Toya and Kohane's costumes for the event have a single wing on the back. Their first recolours change the accent colour to their partner's image colour and flip the side of the wing. This alludes to the mythical Hiyoku bird. A bird with only one wing that will not be able to fly until it meets its other half. Akito and Toya would never have been able to fly, to get as far as they have, if it weren't for that chance meeting on the street. The same applies to An and Kohane, if Kohane hadn't run into An she never would've changed, and An never would've had a partner quite like Kohane. The cards also feature crows, a bird that, notably, mates for life. Toya explicitly states in the event that he wants to stay right beside Akito forever. It's a promise, it's not quite fate but it's the closest a person can get to it with their own actions. Toya is never going to leave Akito's side, and in return, Akito will continue to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him. We see this demonstrated in Toya's card, with Akito literally having broken Toya's cage to reach him, and continue to sit beside him.

KAITO's card is particularly interesting, as it suggests that Akito and Toya, and An and Kohane are not the only fated partners on Vivid Street. KAITO's costume notably already has two wings, a completed whole, only one of them is damaged. Whilst not confirmed, it's highly likely that this is meant to represent Arata and Souma. After all, Souma was an important character in Walk on and on, as was his relationship with Arata. Souma and Arata's relationship has been compared to Akito and Toya's multiple times. Both of them wholly care for and love their partners, as outright stated by KAITO in THE POWER OF UNITY. For Toya, Akito is incredibly important to him. Akito taught him to love music again, Akito introduced him to a whole new world that he only entered out of spite but now is devoted to with his entirety. He has nothing but gratitude for Akito, much like how Souma has nothing but gratitude for Arata. Both of them want to give something back, through the medium both they and their partners love and understand more than anything.

Souma's accident may have made him unable to continue to stand by Arata's side, but Arata will continue to carry the dream that once rested on both their shoulders. It's more complicated for Arata though, who is still clinging to the grief of losing a partner who always stood beside him, a wall placed between them against his will, a wing torn from his shoulder. Dreams can't be carried alone, which is why he can't truly ever carry Souma's dream, nor claim it as his own. He's so caught up in his feelings that he can't realise that he wants this too, that it isn't just for Souma. It's in his honour, the memory of a dream that can't be achieved anymore. Arata's inability to realise this brings him so much pain because he loves Souma, so much, and it crushes him to think that he's betrayed him, in a sense. But once again, they truly are two people who complete each other. Souma wouldn't have reached the heights he did reach if Arata wasn't there beside him, and Arata would not still be on this path if it weren't for Souma leading him along for the first part of the journey.

4. Nagi and RAD WEEKEND

If there's one thing known about fate, it's that fate isn't kind to everyone. Fate was cruel to Nagi, it took her life from her. Her dreams were to be left unfulfilled, half complete. She had no choice in the matter, her story was coming to a close, before she could bring it to a proper conclusion. However, even if her fire burnt out, she still had the time to light a fire in a new generation. Her story will never see a proper end, but she can give her story to a new generation, and inspire them to write their own, one that can be truly completed.

Nagi held RAD WEEKEND as a send-off to herself, one last performance that she could put everything that she could into since she wouldn't have another chance. It was also a chance to create a legacy for herself. Whilst she herself would be gone, her impact would be remembered, be seen by many and inspire them to reach for their dreams, or perhaps give them a new dream. As she looks out to the audience whilst putting her legacy and dreams into the world, she sees An and Akito in the audience. While they wouldn't know it for years, Nagi knows, in that moment, mere days before her death, that these are the children she's inspiring, the ones who will remember, the ones who she's lighting a fire for, a fire that will never burn out. It's fate that Akito was there, it's fate that Nagi saw both him and An, and chose to entrust her life's work to them. Without Nagi, there is no Vivid BAD SQUAD. Without Nagi, An and Akito would not be so passionate, for there is no RAD WEEKEND to be passionate about. Akito wouldn't have chosen Toya as the one to run toward his dreams with, because there would be no dream to run towards. Kohane wouldn't have seen that passionate girl on the street and wished she could be just like her, wish she could be more than herself. And without that, there would never be a Vivid BAD SQUAD, never be a SEKAI, never be an Arata who learnt that he's not alone, or a Kotaro who learnt that he's not as talentless and useless as he believes.

Without Nagi, there's nothing. Her fate was not to die before her story was finished, because she finished her story. Her fate was to pass that story on, allow it to be rewritten and adapted by the ones she inspired with it, allow it to continue on. Nagi had more of an impact than she will ever know, but she knew that it's what she wanted, she knew who she was telling her story to, who she hoped would take what she gave them and run and burn brighter than she ever did. For Vivid BAD SQUAD, for Arata and Souma, for Kotaro, and for Tatsuya, Nagi is what guided them to their fate. Even moreso, she may have created it.

#project sekai #mine #vivid bad squad #rambles #sorry the last part is a bit short. i typed this directly into a discord server over the last 1.5 hours #also its 11:30. pm.#i don't wanna clog tags but for the sake of my blogs organisation:#azusawa kohane #shiraishi an #shinonome akito #aoyagi toya #tono arata #miyata souma #kotaki nagi #and for the fun of it #anhane #akitoya #arasou

75 notes · View notes

quetzalpapalotl · 5 months

Text

You could call Nominus, Sentinel and Zeta "fake Primes" on the basis that they faked Metrix affinity with a fake Matrix to cement their positions, yes. But the thing is that even if they are fakes, there is no such thing as a "true Prime". There are matrix bearers, sure, and that overlaps with being a Prime, but in IDW1's setting it's important that these two things are not the same and both are ultimately not all that special.

The Matrix itself was always regarded as something special, but Prime seemed to be originally a title for the tribal leaders of old, given that Arcee and Galvatron are first shown ruled over a dude names Septimus Prime before Megatronus kills him. The 13 Primes seem to be the ones holding onto that title when they united the planet, which is when it first got its mystique. Prima keeping the Matrix on his sword mutually feeds their legends. Then they have a fallout that leads to the First Civil war and we get our first "modern" Prime.

It's important to note that Nova Major seems to have become Prime, or rather the ruler of the planet, thanks to his merits as a warrior in uniting the planet after the 13. There's never a mention of the Matrix playing a role in this. Most of what Nova did with it was leave it with Tyrest and co. to experiment on and create sparks and didn't even take it with him when he set off to conquer the galaxy. But equality important is the fact that despite all of this he held the real Matrix.

We have no information on how Nominus rose to power, but by the end of his reign the Matrix is something intrinsically linked to the title of Prime. Nominus pretends that his Matrix is real and both Sentinel and Zeta maintain the charade in order declare themselves Primes. So while I wouldn't put it past Nova to use his link to the Matrix to glorify himself, I think is reasonable to conclude that the idea of the Matrix as a means to legitimaze sovereignty, namely, Primacy, solified with Nominus. Using an object associated with Nova, Prima, The Knights and Primus himself.

(It bears to mention that when Nova is challenging Optimus with the Legacy of Primes, he recognizes Sentinel and Zeta as Primes despite their lack of Matrix (or at least as much Primes as him, let's not get into Titan Return) (he makes to mention of Nominus, to which I say: lol, lmao even))

The Matrix certainly played a role in Optimus becoming the Autobot leader, but so did the vacuum left after Zeta was killed, the fact that Megatron was taking over and they needed someone to rally behind and that Optimus already have had somewhat of an important position in the ranks. During the war proper it matters most that Optimus is able to go toe-to-toe with Megatron and Optimus himself doesn't put all that much stock in the Matrix. But as seen in the OP ongoing, he knew Zeta, he knew how much of a fabrication the title of Prime is and he knew the power of symbols. He tought he could give make the Primacy into something that gives people hope and the answer the story gives him is: it's nice that you tried, but the legacy of Primes is rotten to the core. That's why he had to die, so people could move from this idea. (I wrote more on that here)

When Bumblebee becomes the leader of the Autobots, he's not granted the title of Prime probably due to his lack of Matrix. But neither is Rodimus for having held the Matrix. A Prime is a role and Rodimus never led the Autobots. He's as much of a Prime as Thunderclash, which is to say, neither is. And is ultimately revealed in LL that the Matrix does have a morality lock but that anyone can pass it if they believe in themselves. And that is a very nice sentiment, but also, I must repeat that group includes Nova, a guy who sucks, notably so.

Nominus, Sentinel and Zeta weren't bad because they were fake Primes, they were just bad. Just as Nova was bad despite being legit. The Matrix doesn't make Optimus nor Rodimus special because it will take anyone. It's not actually capable of making fair judgements on the nature of a person. Matrix affinity was always a scam. And there is no glory in Primacy, is an idea that needs to be buried. *Utena voice* There never was any such thing as a Prime anywhere in the world in the first place.

#quetzal rambles tf

31 notes · View notes

bonefall · 11 months

Note

I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT MARSHSCAR????

Sure! He's a supporting character in Ripplestar's Rot, and becomes leader of ShadowClan after the Great Pancakening at the Battle of the Gathering.

I wrote about him and every leader post-Ripplestar over here

Marshpaw was a little older than Ripplekit when he was brought to the Clan, just newly apprenticed. Their apprenticeships overlapped and they were teenage friends.

Marsh has always been a sort of quiet dude, he's never been a go-getter. More of a steady, practical guy.

He was friends with Spottedpelt and Gorseclaw too, him and Gorse were the more "level headed" people in the group.

His first name was Marshtail. "Scar" is an Honor Title.

Him and Ripplemoon were young warriors when they became mates. Marshtail could tell you that he liked his passion and drive, but, it would be a half truth. He can't really pick anything in particular that is his favorite trait

He could spend a day stuck in a tree hole with him and it would be enjoyable. He just likes his vibe, he likes to be with him.

There's not much to say about him before the ending of Ripplestar's Rot, because he's a mild guy. His ideal life would have been being a background character who goes on patrol a lot lmao

But at the death of Ripplestar and Spottedpelt, suddenly he was thrust into power he NEVER wanted, in the middle of mourning the loss of his mate and his extended family, and the end of a war he'd given everything to.

His heart broken, he had to clean up what Ripplestar left behind. The other three leaders blamed ShadowClan for everything, and the war had taken a chunk out of the population.

Especially in ShadowClan, with a ton of their warriors being slaughtered at the Gathering. Because of Gorseclaw, they'd seen the attack coming and prepared by only bringing their strongest warriors.

In fury, Dalestar of WindClan and Birchstar of RiverClan exiled many of the outed rebels within their ranks

So, Marshstar was dealing with the other Clans baying for a severe punishment of ShadowClan, adding a flood of new commandments to the code, and also a political refugee crisis

This was a mess. An exhausting, painful mess

It didn't get better, either. No matter what Marshstar did, someone was going to be furious. He couldn't appease the other Clans while maintaining ShadowClan, so, they started exacting revenge by attacking constantly.

(And, mind you, this was the age of Kit Stealing and pillaging. These attacks were high-stakes)

Eventually he stopped apologizing or even negotiating at all. ShadowClan became a sort of secluded, defensive nut that shared very little news, and even skipped Gatherings a few times.

But even that didn't please his warriors. They wanted the Gatherings. They wanted their own revenge. Even as the population recovered, Marshstar refused to do anything else.

The rest of his life felt like he was just biding time. 9 long lives without Ripplestar felt like a curse.

He did do one thing though-- when Houndfang was young, she was a goddamn punk. Little rebel without a cause, the Clan used to be frustrated that she was given such a ferocious name; she could have used a name to calm her down instead :/

She reminded Marshstar of a casual discussion about warrior names he had with Ripplestar, once. About how he liked names that simply made sense, and didn't need to be defended with prose. A Hound and its Fangs

He took a shining to Houndkit, in his melancholic way. She liked bothering him, he wouldn't snap at her or push her away. He would even sometimes enable her-- telling her little tricks for sneaking past the big warriors or giving her advice on how to persuade them to do what she wanted.

So the habit only got "worse." She had absolutely no fear of him as an apprentice and would just announce her opinion to his face.

thinking about it, Marshstar probably took her as an apprentice towards the end of her time as Houndpaw, after getting in too many fights with her mentor and the mentor trying to appeal for a delay of her assessment until she learned respect.

"Hm. No. I don't want her spirit broken. I think the other Clans deserve some hell, actually."

Houndfang didn't have ambition as a kid, she didn't know what she wanted. Marshstar gave her an outlet and it became electricity in her veins.

She quickly took over the Clan when she became deputy, and was more of a leader than he ever was. He just let her start running it.

I feel like he cast his name off, just before he died. He did not want to be Marshstar, he wanted to return to Marshscar, so he held a renaming ceremony for himself and passed on leadership officially.

ShadowClan was reignited in a way it hadn't been in years when Houndstar took power. In the passionate cheering of the crowd, Marshscar slipped away.

No one ever saw him again after that. He was probably sick and went somewhere he could pass away in solitude. Cat behavior

His heart remained with Ripplestar for the entirety of his long life, and for him, it was a relief when it was finally over.

When he got to StarClan, they tried to put him on trial. He got frustrated shortly into it. Ripplestar and Spottedpelt are not here so Literally Why Should I Care?

And they're going to throw this big bombastic ballyhoo, why? To posture? For who? This is pointless and quite frankly embarassing.

He actually interrupted the court proceedings with an Excuse Me. I Don't Want This.

"Thank you for your time. This has been a waste of mine."

It's kind of funny to think that if Houndstar knew about what her mentor did here she would flip her shit at him lmao.

Honestly, he does not mind being in Hell. Like, at all. He'll follow Ripplestar wherever, but in Skypelt I can imagine him making occasional statements about missing the taste of bloodsap or something.

#better bones au #Bb!Marshscar #Marshstar #BB!ShadowClan #Ripplestar's Rot #BB!houndstar

109 notes · View notes

tigertale · 1 year

Text

A/N: Is it bad that I can relate a little too much to Yuuya? Anyway, reader is insecure and Ace is an ass. A good 10k words??? I can't assure you a good quality throughout the entire fic

A/N 2: I died and revived halfway through writing the fic and the scenario went brrr (started this during December 2022 oops)

F!Reader; Ace

•〔　！〕Smut; First time; Grammatical errors; Not proofread

Ace looked at the sorry excuse the prefect of the Ramshackle dorm was.

She had unconsciously curled up into her seat, not because of the light almost see through clothes that served as a poor excuse for pajamas, but most probably because of how insecure she was about getting closer to the boy. And the sight made the clench in his ribs almost unbearable.

He was kind of stupid wasn't he? Suddenly barging into her place in the middle of the night despite having insulted her a few hours ago. It had taken for her to properly guide the unlucky chandelier group — aka him, the magicless student, whoever this dormmate of his was and a highly sensitive beast — through the obstacle the mine monster was for him to realize that she wasn't as boring as what he had told her. And now that he was before her, he remembered how he had never properly apologized.

He opened his mouth, but it seemed that the two of them had the same idea as their voices overlapped over one another. It resulted in an awkward silence that became a just as awkward game of "you first." And his persistence made him win the game.

Her knees brushed against one another as she tried to get her words out. "I know that the couch is not comfortable, so if you want you can always sleep in my bed." Eh? That was even more unexpected than what he had imagined. Didn't she mean that she wanted him to leave? Wasn't she supposed to be angry at him for how he had belittled her so far? And he made sure to voice those thoughts to her.

"I guess that… I am a little angry about that. But I don't like being caught in problems, and I don't want you to sleep under the rain too." The water drop that hit his face empathized her claim. As he wept it off his cheek with the back of his blazer and cursed the shady state of the building, he thought about how kind she was. Too much even. He was not one to be bothered by such things, but he was oh so guilty when she would selflessly try to bring him comfort — and at the back of his mind, the idea that someone other than would take advantage of it surely grew to become something he feared.

He drapped his arms over the back of the sofa, a playful smile hanging on his lips. "So~ You're okay with letting me sleep in your bed? You can't take it back once you've said yes!" A yelp left his mouth as a coil found fun by jabbing his behind.

"I've already proposed it to you… I can't just take it back now." Right! That's why he had said that she was boring. She had never talked back, they had been glued to each other for an entire day but she was just being placide and let everything unfold before her. It was a shame, especially after he had seen how she had the power to easily fix problems and had a complex yet interesting way of thinking. But so, at least he didn't have to beg to have things go his way. It would've been awkward to use the argument of his slim body to gain even the slightest bit of sympathy.

"Then come on, lead the way." She sighed as she got up, clearly displeased by the way he was addressing her, but not wanting to express it.

After they had entered the room, she had gone straight to bed, watching from time to time as he got himself ready to sleep. The urge to tease her about it died whenever he looked at her. Her eyes, expressing how expectant she was for him to finish, stopped him from doing so. And the way she was coddled up under the cover like a child made the guilt come back. She looked cute like that, and that was a damn stupid thought for him to have.

He eventually slid under the cover, his buttoned up shirt was partially open and he had kept his trousers on to keep some kind of decency. She did mention that he was allowed to sleep in his underwear after he had jokingly asked about it, arguing that she was used to it as she had brothers, and if needed she could put pillows in-between them. It may have been too straightforward for him, and before he could properly think about it he had already disagreed saying that it was only a joke.

Minutes passed where the two of them thought about the one by their side in silence. Their reflexions going from a simple "he's stupid" to more complex ones. And Ace was not one to keep himself from expressing his opinions. If he had something to say, then he would say it. "You're too kind, you know? Think about yourself more, you need to strengthen yourself a bit." It broke the stillness between them.

She shuffled under the cover, pulling it even higher above her face as if to hide it. Not that he could even see her half lidded eyes, dropped with sadness, to begin with as it was too dark. "Am I not already?" He turned towards her, unconsciously trying to make out the shape of her face despite knowing that he couldn't. "I'm "kind" as you say, but for me it's only a mean to avoid any problems that can be an obstacle to my peace. I just want to be comfortable, and I'll do anything to be. Isn't that egoism?" The silence that followed made her question her words, forgetting about the boy laying beside her. Just like everyone she had needs that had to be fulfilled, and those needs were the only thing that pushed her forward despite the hole in her heart. If she couldn't have her family by her side, if she couldn't let go of this loneliness, she could at least work out something that will compensate and make her forget about those worries.

"You're as kind as you're dumb to say things like that without hesitation." She almost choked at his words, and the snickers that followed let her understand that he had found fun in her short surprise. Part of the dip beside her disappeared as he sat up. "Shit I've never imagined talking about this kind of stuff so late at night… So what? Now it's selfish to wish for something and to work for it? And you could've just given me the sofa, but you've still offered me the bed because I could've caught a cold. If you feel that you have any obligation related to my health then you might as well be kind." A whine left the back of her throat before she could have stopped it.

She hated those words. "Kind." She was just a normal and average human being, she didn't like those labels that would be thrown at her whether she liked it or not. It was distressing in a way how some people felt the need to put nice words for her as if she had deserved it.

The mattress once again dipped, but this time on each side of her face. She was surprised that his hands were caging her head and his hot breath fawning over her face. He was on all four above her, he had moved so swiftly she had barely had the time to register it. "It seems to me that you're just overthinking." She felt the heat of his body licking her skin as he got closer to her, his arms bending and allowing him to do so. "I can try and make you forget about it, what do you think?"

He patiently waited, knowing that it may seem to her that his request was out of the blue. But she was oh so tempting, and he couldn't stop thinking about her ever since they had left each other after the mine incident. He had never been interested in these kinds of things but somehow she was messing with his internal compass, messing with his mind and reminding him that he was still so full of needs that were left unattended for a while already. And hey, she needed to get rid of those intrusive thoughts, and he wanted her. So he might as well kill two birds with one stone.

"Do you have a condom?" A what now? She let out another sigh, one that he knew he would get accustomed to, and traced the side of his face with the tip of her fingers.

"It doesn't seem like you had sex before." Now he was surprised. For her to say such crude words without any shame but at the same time struggling to tell him off when he was annoying her. And the way he just shut himself off made her assume that she was right (and she was.) "I'm not more experienced than you, but I know a thing or two. And I know that we need a condom."

"Why? It's not like you can get pregnant on your first time?" The high pitched noise that rang through the room as she slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand was way more effective in letting Ace know just how stupid she thought he was than a mere sigh.

"I… don't think that I have the willpower to explain things in-depth to you at the moment." She gently took his hands and sat up to be at the same level as where she believed his face was. "Just know that yes I can, and we won't do a thing without a condom." She plopped herself back in the bed and set herself back to sleep.

"Sleep tight, Ace. Have nice dreams."

He had yet to move from where he was kneeling. She had put an end so easily to the conversation, he was even doubting that it had ever happened. What the hell were those things she knew, and why was he curious to hear about it? But eventually he came back to the problem at hand as he settled too on his side of the bed. "Where am I even supposed to get those?"

"800 students, some of them are bound to develop some kind of physical relationship." He hummed at that, as if to say that he was giving it some thought even if he didn't care about it. "The infirmary must give some condoms to avoid STDs. Or there's a shop on the way here, maybe they're selling some there." Oh so she was telling him where to look for those. As much as he liked the idea of getting close to her —and wow, it was his first time ever wanting someone this much— he didn't trust himself to actually have the courage to buy them. Even imagining getting them was enough of a hassle for him. Having condoms was not his top priority and he was lazy just thinking about them.

"Thanks I guess." Well too bad, they won't have sex. But maybe that was a good thing. He was not one to follow societal wildly spread conceptions (as your first-time was important) but maybe that this once, it wouldn't be a bad thing to listen to them.

_____

He came back the very next day. Condom in hand.

Now, to avoid any misunderstanding, it would be nice to mention that he wasn't desperate enough to get them. If anything he had told himself that he wouldn't get them and that he should just forget about getting more intimate with her.

Yet, it had seemed that his dorm had other plans. His senior, Cater he believed his name was, had suddenly given him a handful of those plastic packages of various sizes. "Riddle's order! Every frosh are to be safe!☆" He had said when he saw how appalled Ace was. It was actually more of the nurse's order after she had chewed Crowley out for the lack of security in the school. He also added that they were to have every size to be sure to have something that fits them, it would be bad if it was too small for them to wear, right? Not every dorm was particularly uptight about this rule, and even fewer of them tried to hand them the right size — so far only Heartslabyul and Pomefiore had made this kind effort. While Riddle wasn't exactly fond of this rule, rules are rules and he still cared for those under him, so he might as well go all out.

Now the school's problem had become his, and he didn't know how to approach her. He was already in front of the rundown building after asking his dormhead the permission to sleep at her place, but how should he bring the subject back? He didn't care about how others may see him, but she was somehow a different story.

After taking a deep breath, he knocked. It didn't take long for the door to open and he cheerfully greeted her, a hand scratching the back of his head. "Hey prefect! You don't mind me crashing at your place again, right?" She stared blankly before welcoming him with a small "sure" that led to a dutiful silence. And this awkward smile on her lips was a nightmare to look at. How could it both drive him away but also stir his heart so badly?

As he entered, he finally saw her lack of clothes. The only pair of pants she had had been ditched somewhere and replaced with shorts that could barely be seen above her dirty white blouse. Upon further inspection, her entire body was painted with black spots and her buttoned up shirt had turned a dark brown with whatever liquid had drenched it.

"Errh, what happened to you?" She looked down at her poor state before becoming even more reserved. He was surprised to see her pouting as she awkwardly pulled at her clothes.

"I was trying to see what was wrong with the water heater, I hate having to shower with a bucket." She sighed as she stretched her back, hands placed on her back as she bent backwards. "But the thing is beaten down, there's no way I'll have hot water any time soon." She whined even louder and great seven, it was the first time he had ever heard her being so genuine! She even sounded approachable. If she kept such extraversion, surely the bullying would slowly soften. She wasn't an opportunist after all, and they would come to understand this.

"If you really need, I can always sneak you in my dorm. You won't mind sleeping with me, right?" The smirk that had formed on his lips paired with the boyish popular facial expression made her giggle. What was he trying to do? Didn't he say that sleeping with her was "meh"? (No offense, she did sense that he was joking) She turned around and walked him to the living room, her shoulders still shaking as she tried to hide her laughter.

He marveled at the state of the parlor. He had last entered it less than a day before, but it was vastly different then what he had remembered! She sat him down as he continued to watch his surroundings. "I tried to clean up a bit but it's still dirty… I'm sorry for the mess."

"What are you? A perfectionist?" She may have only removed a few paintings and thrown a worn out blanket over the sofa, it was enough for the room to change. "This is good enough." She gently laughed, still not quite sure how to react to the compliment.

Knowing the person Ace was —or at least had a semblance of an idea of it— she tried not to let the silence between them linger and asked him if he wanted to sit so as to not make things awkward. It may have had the contrary effect because he was frowning as he made himself comfortable on the couch. And when she asked if he wanted a coffee to drink he just snapped.

"What are you? An old woman? Stop acting like one, shit. 'Is so fucking boring…" He grumbled the last part and crossed his arms. His annoyed eyes were sending daggers as she was left trying to find her words, mouth repeatedly opening and closing.

She eventually brought her fist up and coughed inside after finally snapping out of her surprise. "So… why did you come here?" She tried not to think much of his words. They only fed her insecurities, but if she were to express them right now, wouldn't it just confirm what he had said? If anything, she had learnt that talking about feelings was considered "boring" by most people her age. "And what's up with the bag?" She tried to change the subject by pointing said object with a finger, but it actually made him uneasy.

He tried to answer, catching himself multiple times to rectify and find the right words before eventually giving up. Instead he gave her said bag. "Condoms." He said right when she opened it.

Much to his displeasure, the silence that they (more like she, he didn't make any efforts so far to make her feel better) had tried so hard to push away all this time had finally found its way in their conversation. She was carefully processing what was before her and by the time she had eventually come to accept what it was, he had become a small puddle of sweat.

"I didn't expect you to have so much in so little time." He blushed furiously at that and took the bag back. He was furious, seething, by what she was implying. He was NOT a pervert! And he wouldn't let her think so! Or that's what he tried to convince himself to think because he sure as hell was more embarrassed about it than angry. After all, it's the exact image he didn't want her to have about him.

But she was far from thinking this and– no, actually, a part of her was impressed by how obsessed and eager he may have been, even if that's not the actual case.

"Hey dumbass! What makes you think I prepared all of these?!" He sat back down, putting all his plastic square packages in between his legs. One hand was tightly gripping his thigh while the other was hiding his bright red face from her. "Some older guy in my dorm gave me those, apparently it's a dorm rule for every student to receive them at the beginning of the year…" His voice barely escaped from his fingers, only managing to come out as an almost indescribable grumbling.

"Then it's a good coincidence for us." She came closer to him and much to his embarrassment, she put a hand in the bag, grazing her hand against and stimulating his growing hard on as she rummaged through it to grab a few of the small packages. She eventually fished out a couple of the condoms, and showed them off to the boy. "So which one's your size?"

"How the hell should I know?"

She deflated at that. "Come on, every boy has measured it at least once. Isn't it important for you all to know about it —so you can compare it in the boy locker room?" The last part wasn't pronounced, but her understood her innuendo. He did actually measure it, but he wasn't going to talk about it so casually. His lack of answer only pulled a sigh out of her, one that quickly made him cower inside the uncomfortable sofa. She had moved to be on her knees, a soothing hand caressing his thighs as she looked up at him. "If you really don't know then I'll have to try each one of them. One by one."

Her fingers started playing with the zipper of his trousers, pulling it open with an ease that almost made him question if she really was new to this. "W- Wait!" He stopped what she was doing by taking her hands in his. She looked at him, fixating on something other than the clothed bulge that was now out for her to see. "What a-are you doing? I- I'm not-... I mean no! I-I a…m actually…!"

She nodded and pulled her hands down against her bent knees. He sighed at her action, but quickly straightened back. There was no way in hell she had understood what he was trying to say, so why was she nodding understandingly. There were many ways for her to misinterpret it, and if she actually did, he didn't know what he would do–

"Ah yes, consent. I understand if you don't want to. I got ahead of myself and thought we were about to do it, I'm deeply sorry for assuming things and—"

He cut her off with an undignified "eeh?!" that made her tilt her head to the side. "Where the hell is this story about consent coming from?" She was about to answer but he shook his head from side to side. "You know what, I don't even want to know." He continued talking, explaining that what he was actually trying to say was his size. Dick size. And that she didn't have to test each condom.

She picked up and ripped a packet of the right size open with a relieved sigh. "I was honestly scared of wasting so much condoms." She took the rubber out and examined it closely before watching the lubricant stretching into a bridge between her fingers. "I've never actually put a condom on something before so it's a first for me." She put it back on the opened package and went back to working with his now rocking hard cock.

"Please don't be too harsh with me."

He gulped down the excess of saliva to try and cool off his face. She was adorable like that, pulling out his member, or more it being freed and slapping her square in the face. She let out a dissatisfied sound as she rubbed her eyes from the precum that had gotten on her eyelids.

"You're not circumcised." She pulled the foreskin down to let the head of his cock free for her to see. If the precum was a lot before, now that the tip was out in the open, she could see just how much of a mess it was. She hummed as she circled the hole at the very top of it and enjoyed each of his twitching. "I've never seen an uncircumcised one so close… but don't worry, as long as you're clean, I'm down for you." She let out a string of "hehe" that made his blood pump faster. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back so that she could directly connect her eyes with his.

"Stop joking around already." She agreed to do so in a tone that almost made him question whether she would really do it or not, and went back to her forgotten condom.

She recited, one by one, every step needed to put a condom on under her breath, guiding herself into doing it as Ace visibly didn't have much knowledge. Once it was done, she brightened up and happily clapped his thigh, which made him hiss with pain.

"In one go!" She happily said with a proud smile that was all too bright for him. His fingers that were still planted into the root of her hair brought her attention back to the twitching member in front of her by angling it back to where it was at first.

"A-Ah wait… I'm a bit nervous… I've never done this before." But she was only shoved forward as an answer, her cheek planting against his pelvis. His penis was now right before her nose and mockingly staring back.

"Then you'll learn." She timidly sniffed it, something that took him aback.

She pecked it at first, trying to see how it would go, and the first impression being quite good, she switched to small stripes being licked along his shaft. While it was rather tasteless for her, his breath was heavy and his body had become unbearably hot.

He popped a few buttons of his shirt open, letting his chest breath as she moved to the base of his dick where two fingers were tightly pressing it. He didn't expect to feel all of her touches so vividly with a condom on, but she had once again found a way to surprise him.

His fingers moved from the back, where he painfully was gripping the small hairs along her nape, to the top of her head when she finally shifted her attention back to the tip of his shaft. A hand still lingered at the base where she kept a tight grip while the other was pumping up and down.

It started with small kisses that quickly became her pumping his cock in her mouth. The first try had left her a coughing mess, but the second was much more successful after making her hand into a fist. He did marvel for a second at the technique, wondering if it would actually work, but his mind went into shambles when the warmth of her cavity wrapped his lower half in a steamy hug.

She tried to peek up at him, wanting to see his facial expression, but couldn't do so as his hand only but pressed her further down his aching shaft. Later, when he would cum inside the plastic protection, she would have the time to see it as he would bask into his aftermath.

And it may have come earlier than what she had expected because he removed himself from her mouth not long after. He fisted his rod as he kept her in front of him. Was it because he wanted to get off to her face or because he imagined her covering with his cum? He didn't know, but both were good endings for him.

He eventually came, the condom swelling with the amount of sperm he had let out and she just watched, fascinated, as it did so. He came rather fast, but she was not worried at all, and she was ready to comfort him if he ever felt down about it. It was normal for a first-time, and she was more curious about the taste than the time.

"Was it good?" She asked as she started to take the condom off. She carefully carved the sight of his flushed face, drooling and seemingly fucked out of his mind, in her memories. She was not one to masturbate, but this image could only become a great fantasy for her to get off to for the next following days.

He let out a small moan as he stretched his back and tilted his head down to see what she was doing. "Yeah, I didn't expect it to be so good actually." Thankfully he had finished his words in time, she had started to remove the condom, and he feared just how embarrassing it would have been if he had to explain why he had stopped talking halfway through. She was pushing every last bit of his cum out of the plastic and onto the tongue she had stuck out.

A humm left her as she swallowed it all, a thumb passing over her lips and chin to pick any leftovers before popping it inside her mouth. "It's kind of sweet. You should watch your diet." He groaned as she merely laughed.

"Shut up. I'm not here for diet advice." His words only made her laugh harder.

But she quickly came to a stop. "Ah wait, that was a bad move." She got up and dusted herself with a sigh under his curious eyes. "You can still get STDs by swallowing semence."

"Are you implying that I have STDs?" It seemed to get on his nerves, and she quickly tried to reiterate her words.

She sat on his legs and shook her head. "No, but there's always a possibility even if you're a virgin." For whatever reason, the last word made him frown even more. Why do boys his age have to be so hard to work with? His ego was truly something else. "There's also a possibility that I have those, so don't take it as something personal. I'm just trying to make you pick up good habits."

But he didn't listen. Now that she was on him, he could feel her warm and dripping cunt on his limp manhood. Even with two layers of clothes, it was impossibly wet and coated him with her juice. He had put two hands on her hips as she was talking and had started to grind her against him.

She quickly saw what he was doing and gently wrapped her arms around his neck and arched her back to press her chest against his open one. "You've barely come a minute ago, shouldn't you wait before going back to it?" But he merely groaned as an answer and buried his face in the junction of her neck.

He continued his movements, which have been gradually increasing in force, as her heavy breath picked up with the pace and blessed his ears.

Still pressed against him, she slid to fingers in-between their body to continue his previous work. The last buttons of his shirt were popped open and she removed the piece of cloth from him.

"Aaah… W- Wait…" she gently pushed her hands against his chest and backed from the rod grinding against her. "We need another condom." He mindlessly nodded but felt awfully frustrated when her fingers left him to search for a new piece of rubber.

She did the same as before after opening the package, saying aloud what she was doing as she pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it over his shaft.

He curiously watched as she raised herself above his rocking hard erection, her expression rather unsure and her bottom lip tightly grasped in-between her teeth. "Uh, shouldn't I prepare you or something." He was not one to care much about others, but surely she wasn't about to put herself through pain, right?

She flushed at his words and nervously tapped his shoulders. "Don't worry… We'll just go slowly." She had thought that he had forgotten about it all. With how uncomfortable she was with her body, she thought it would be best for her to just skip such steps so she could avoid any types of embarrassment. Surely the pain won't be so bad if they were to take their time.

He didn't push her further on, thankfully for her, and she slowly pushed herself against him. And maybe that she should have thought twice about this lame idea because she had to stop when the tip was barely in. The blush on his cheeks came back when she once again pressed her chest to his, except this time hissing and twitching.

A few minutes passed where the two of them were too engrossed in both their current fixation — him enjoying the feel of her clothed breasts against him and her laboured breath, and she, focusing on his fast beating heart, before he came back to the current situation at hand. "Uhh, you're sure you're good?"

"Yeah…Yeah yeah." She mindlessly nodded as she took the chance to continue her way down his shaft. Despite the slight uncomfortable feeling of being full, she had indeed relaxed. She eventually came to a stop when her ass was pressed against his thighs and it pulled a moan out of him that she gladly let her ego feed on.

"Uh, you seem to like it." He didn't answer, his mind far too gone for him to properly care about the comment. He still buried his face in the crook of her neck when he felt her sliding off his cock.

She was using his shoulders as a leverage, two tight hands marking his skin with the crescent shapes of her nails, and slowly pulled herself upwards. At the same time, his face followed the shape of her body that was pressed against him. His nose ended up brushing her clothed breasts. And the material scratching his skin successfully pulled him out of his reveries.

Once she was high enough, the tip barely peeking from her cunt, she went back down. Although more easily this time. Both of their voice resonated in the empty room, and she was thankful that no-one was around to hear them — or at least they didn't make themselves known and avoided the parlour, which was just as good actually.

He was tempted to dig his fingers in the small of her back to switch to a faster pace, but the fabric that was still hiding her upper body was more bothering at the moment. His shaky hands moved to her buttoned up shirt, the way she was bouncing and moaning on top of him almost making him forget about what he was trying to do, and started undoing the buttons one by one. He deemed his mission complete when half of the blouse was open and didn't waste time diving in her breasts to bite and lick whatever parcel of skin was welcoming him.

Her whimpers and hitched breath only increased as shivers would rack her body to the point that she was only but uncontrollably twitching. And when her pace eventually faltered, Ace was sure to take over, two hands grasping her ass and jumping her on his thighs as he continued to shamelessly bite the top of her chest.

The dents of his zipper painfully turned her skin red with every thrust. But in the heat of the moment and the different overlapping sensations, it only further stimulated the coil that was painfully tightening in her lower half and made her voice higher.

She thanked whatever divine being she could imagine, her mind fading to a blank state with each of his trusts inside her and her body so hot that she feared that she would just succumb to it all. Her stomach twisted painfully when his pace suddenly picked up, something that she had never experienced before, and made her wonder if her end was getting closer.

But he stopped right when she felt herself reaching her peak.

He groaned as he let himself rest against the sofa. Now limp, he wasn't maintaining her body up, and she just fell forward against him.

How frustrating it was, her lower half was still pulsating with pleasure, and she couldn't understand why he stopped. "Ace, are you done?" She whispered from his shoulder, where her head was resting. He pressed a hand against his forehead before removing the sweat and hairs sticking on it.

"Uh…" oh he was still very much basking into the aftermath of his climax, and it took a while for her words to be understood by him, she even repeated herself when she heard how lost he was. "Yeah… yeah, shit that was– fucking shit it's-" He tried to utter some kind of answer but his mind was too much of a mess for him to properly think. At least he understood what she said now.

She sighed, tempted to press a kiss against the skin of his neck, but they weren't close enough for her to do it, right? If they were just some kind of one night stand (it's the middle of the afternoon,) they shouldn't kiss, it would be weird, wouldn't it?

She didn't expect her first time to end so abruptly. Yes she didn't hold many expectations, knowing that it would never be perfect, but she was still very upset. She eventually forced herself to think that they weren't even close to begin to even fathom him taking care of her like a boyfriend would, which they weren't.

His half lidded eyes opened wide when she removed herself from him. She had pressed her hand against his chest to help her up, and when his dick fell limp it of her he hissed. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the condom that was full, before focusing on closing the buttons of her shirt. "I'll take a shower first, you'll go after, okay?"

"Why?" Here she was, once again confusing him with her decision.

"You're staying here for the night, continuing the evening clean would be better I think." She's not wrong, but he didn't feel like bathing right now. Yet, before he would voice out his thoughts, she was already closing the door of the parlour behind her. Uh? Why was she so cold? It seemed that she reverted back to her placide and awkward self.

He pursed his lips, annoyed by how the mood just fell flat after her sudden change. As said before, he didn't like holding onto whatever most people deemed as a "social norm", like treating his first-time like something so special that you needed to plan it and idealise it. But her leaving so abruptly somehow sat wrong with him, it even woke him up from his dazed state.

Now he had to wait for both of them to bathe before addressing whatever stupid thing was going through her head. Hopefully it won't take long.

_____

After drinking water and properly washing themselves off of any remaining fluids, they both basked into each other's presence and continued on with their pajama party. He had come late into the afternoon and by the time they had finished cleaning up, the sun was not visible anymore, only a faint gradient of orange and purple was seen.

The bath had been ice cold, thanks to the destroyed water heater, but after lighting the fire in her bedroom's fireplace and placing a few logs inside to keep it alive, it was much more bearable. They both laid on the ground before it, enjoying its heat.

"Are you bipolar or something?" She turned towards him, surprised to see that he was already looking at her. Even more unexpected, he was frowning. Why was he suddenly pissed? It's not like she had done anything… Or perhaps was it her lack of engagement that brought this sudden behaviour? He did mention that she was boring… And she wasn't making her situation after all. "Just talk instead of creating those weird scenarios in your head." He could clearly see on her face that she was not getting any of what he was saying.

She was lost. Was it not her uninteresting self that was annoying him? "Then… What's the problem?" She couldn't see what possibly annoyed him.

"Can't you guess?" Well obviously, it seemed that she couldn't. She was staring at the ceiling absently, uncertain about what he was expecting from her and how she should fulfill these expectations. "Why did you suddenly close yourself after what we did." Oh.

She awkwardly laughed, what was he talking about? Perhaps was he mentioning the brief moment when she realised that they were not close. But it was the truth, they were not, and she shouldn't have open herself to him in hopes of something more.

"It's nothing, really." Her words did nothing to quell the conflicting feelings inside him. As if she could just end the conversation with only a "it's nothing."

"How about you tell me more about the Great Seven." Despite the proposition coming out of the blue, it was far from some kind of random conversation subject. The mirror above the fireplace reminded her, for some mysterious reasons, of the statues of the seven great figures by the school's entrance. And it was a nice way to get out of the chat he wanted to have.

"Why would I even talk about them?"

"Because I'm too dumb?" She was using his words against him uh? Well at least it seems like she was once again getting comfortable with him if she was able to talk back like this. So he just let it go, hoping that one story would be enough for them to continue their previous talk, but when she answered back with a tale of her own world, it was too late.

Ace was still much more reluctant to keep this peace up, starting a "it's boring" streak (hopefully she would just go back to why she had became so cold back in the living room), but one mention of paranormal stories from her world and she had his full attention. Each and every story somehow managed to catch his attention, so much that they didn't see the time flashing before them.

"Aaaah!" She stretched her back, a long tired moan emphasizing the arch of it, which caught his attention. Hey, now that he was thinking about it, she had yet to show herself to him, as in, he still hasn't seen her naked, did heN?

She jumped when she felt his hand sneaking under her loose shirt and barely grazing her skin. But when she turned around, the only thing she saw, and was surprised by, was his focused face as more and more of her body was shown as he moved it higher. "What… What are you doing?"

He hummed, a mischievous smile on his lips. "You escaped our talk there, lemme take a small revenge~" A moan resonated in the room, tuned out by the crackling of the burning wood before them, when she felt another electric shock coursing through her due to his cold finger. And the sound, almost unheard, still managed to stir the heat in his body. Eh, he might as well just go for another round.

He turned her around, much to her confusion, and pulled her down with him. An involuntary sigh left his lips when he felt her breast against his chest. He used to consider himself an ass person, but clearly his judgement was wrong. Not that he would kill for them, but her breast were definitely becoming his fixation.

"Is there a problem Ace?" He groaned, thrusting his lower half against her as an answer.

"Let's do it again." She let an audible "oh" left her mouth before chuckling, her face hidden in his clothes. He could only feel her body, twitching with the laughter she tried so hard to hide, but it was enough for him to frown. Not that he was displeased and annoyed by her reaction, but he definitely was.

She eventually calmed down when she heard him muttering something to himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you in any way." She trailed a ginger along his neck, fixating her gaze on the skin peeking under his shirt. "I just didn't expect you to be so eager…" A strangled huff was heard right after. Clearly, despite her apologetic tone she was far from it, her poorly stopped laugh the most obvious proof he could have ever got.

He wanted to retort back, how could she claim being so apologetic then mock him so easily? But his words died when she pressed her lips against his collarbone. And at the contact, they both froze. Did she… just do what she told herself not to do not even an hour before?

Immediately after she threw herself up, flustered by what she just did. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that! I just… I don't know what came over me…" Her hands were immediately covering her face shamefully, shielding it from Ace. But the boy was far from being concerned about her shyness, the soft touch of her lips was way more comforting than what he could have possibly thought.

But when the silence they were in stretched more than what she knew shouldn't have been, normally Ace would have made a nasty comment by now, she peeked behind her finger so see what was troubling him. Much to her surprise, his cheeks were turning to a deep red, wide eyes staring at her with confusion. "You don't mind what I did?" Her timidity, this time, didn't seem to anger him, far from it, he was even nodding mindlessly.

It was now or never, right? She bent forward once again, her hot breath fawning over his skin a short instant before she pressed another kiss on the same spot as previously. A deep sigh was heard, and his body relaxed right after. It was good, surprisingly, how her touches were like heaven against his skin. He didn't think of himself as a romantic guy, but maybe that he was just trying to fool himself all this time. Because when her lips dragged lower and lower, forcing her to open his shirt, he knew damn well that he was too far gone for her.

And now that he had her draped all over himself, relishing into the way she was covering his body with all types of affection, the fact that they had never once kissed each other suddenly made him restless.

"Hey, prefect." She separated herself from his chest where she was lavishing him with her own praises. The rope of spit connecting his perked up nipple from her lower lips made an uncontrollable shiver run along his spine.

"Hmm?" She sat on his stomach, waiting for whatever he was going to say. But how unexpected it was, for him to suddenly jerk up and press his lips against hers. Just as fast, she moved back, hissing as her teeth throbbed with how hard he had hit her.

"SHIT— That hurts like hell!" He complained while desperately breathing air in as if it would cool his pain down. She put a hand on his shoulder to catch his attention, and only when he looked up could he see the frown on her face as she passed her tongue over her aching teeth.

"Be careful when you're trying to kiss someone." Her hands moved to his cheeks, angling his face towards hers with half lidded eyes. "It's supposed to be a mark of affection, you can't be too rough you know." And with that she pressed her lips against his, more softly than what he previously tried.

Oh he was definitely a romantic now.

The kiss was slow, his fingers finding solace by caressing her sides as her own hands went to his hair, playing with the small tresses that would often pass in the crevices adorning her hands. And one tug was enough to set the temperature higher, the all too familiar burning from their past session returning much harder. His tongue pressed against her lips, pressing against her own when she opened her mouth, and the open-mouthed kiss was the official announcement of yet another round.

The fingers that were exploring her chest grew bolder as they trailed down. Should he grind her against him like he did a while before? Anchoring them on her waist to leave marks testifying that he was here first? It was more than tempting actually, but he was more curious about something else. The kiss was broken so she could bite the back of her hand instead when she felt him grazing her clit.

Now what was he doing? Why was he suddenly caressing her in a place he had barely even thought about exploring before? While she was left panting over his shoulders, his thoughts swirled with delirious ideas.

Yeah, he was romantic as fuck, and needed to fuck her just as good. She was insecure about her damn body? Then he should just show her how much he appreciated it, and please her in a way that would make her forget about seeing any guy other than him. Maybe that they will drift apart at one point, that she will find someone else to nicely pamper her before fucking her up, but she would never forget about him. He's her first, and she will be obsessed with him till the end.

She was thrown on her bed much to her surprise, or more like a bunch of mattresses on top of one another to make up for the fact that the first one had fallen through the bedframe a few nights before, and he joined soon after.

Both of his hands dipped inside the blankets under her head as his face got closer to hers. Her face heated up when she opened her eyes to see him above her, a knee parting her legs mischievously before he shifted his body so he could be above her hips. His fingers dragged the loose shirt that she used as a pajama up, and her running shorts were pulled down, allowing him to see her pair of plain panties. Now was not the time to comment on it, he wanted to see how she would react once he was eating her out.

He quickly discarded the piece of garment away from his sight (they were just hanging on one leg) before tentatively blowing on where he thought her clit would be. And lucky him, immediately after she let out a small whimper to let him know that he found it. For a first time he wasn't that bad, huh?

His finger ran along her slit, finding quite easily her hole and pushing two in. Her arousal was enough for them, but he knew that he had to stimulate her a bit more if he wanted to fit one or two more inside. And so, disregarding her sound as he was more focused on a solution to please her, his attention switched back to her clit where his tongue slowly approached it. He was suddenly pressed against it, mouth fully enclosing it as she had taken a handful of his hair and tried to pull him closer.

Her fingers gripped and tugged his hair, frustration ironically eating her out as his tongue was pressed flat against the small bud he was sucking. At the same time, the slender limbs inside her picked up in pace. The overwhelming sensations all building up, the euphoria more present than ever before. Would she come undone in the next few seconds? Most probably she feared, but she was too much into this unholy craziness to allow herself to doubt too much. She was finally coming after all. He didn't left her to fend for herself for too long it seemed, maybe he even cherished her a little like her with him. And the happiness of such meaningless and unproved implications had so easily triggered her release.

His name, strangled, was cried as his head was trapped in-between her thighs that she had involuntarily closed. Despite how uncomfortable it was, he continued to lap at any of her juice his tongue could get, even taking the chance to explore her inside more thoroughly than with his fingers.

When her body eventually relaxed, he took the chance to move away from the warm spot between her thighs. He surprisingly liked it. Her heat, her taste, her skin, her noises, they were way more enjoyable than what he had thought. And his throbbing length was just as enamored.

When he saw her starting to fall asleep, he quickly moved her body around, giving small and painless slaps on her cheeks to keep her awake. "Hey prefect, don't fall asleep now. I still need you." She tiredly hummed, her mind still blurry as both sleep and pleasure claimed her mind. But he could see that she was barely responding.

He groaned as he tried to unbuckle his belt with one hand, the other one pulling her legs apart, and successfully opened it after struggling for a short while. Any trace of tiredness disappeared when she felt him entering her hole eagerly without much foreplay to back him up. Thankfully her previous release was enough to lub him, but the compassion for it was a highly sensitive and overstimulated body.

Her arms immediately joined themselves behind his neck, bringing him closer to her and forcing him to push a hand beside her head. He dragged his shaft back, the motion stealing one of the moans that were quick to build up at the back of her throat, before diving back inside her. The repetitive motion effortlessly broke her sanity, with each of them, paired with her previous climax, her brain became too overwhelmed.

At one point, he pressed back the bulb-like tip against her cunt with a hiss as she was babblering words of affection at him, hoping to make him move faster in her delirious state. Thankfully for her, his mind was just as muddy as hers, and he happily listened to her wishes.

His eyes rolled at the back of his head. He had fully, and unannounced, gone fully in and was squished by her tight warm walls. He felt like they were sucking him more with each twitch of his body, and maybe that was the case as her breath would adorably itch whenever he did so.

She was his. This body overflowing with insecurities and heating up with each passing seconds was his. It was him who had stick his cock so fucking deep inside that she had started babblering some nonsense about how much she loved him. Him who was brushing her cervix with his raw dick. She was the one that had made him wait for him to have some rubbers, but now she was fucked without one just because she was head over heels for his cock.

"A—Awn… So-… Y– You love me?" He wouldn't have tried to tease her a while ago, when she was sucking him off and he had prematurely come, but now that she had lost any bits of reasonable thinking, she was easy to talk to. And the way she was deliriously nodding made him smirk manically.

He slowly slid himself off before slamming back in with a noise that threatened to make any souls passing by cower with fear. She let out a high pitched moan that cut her answer off. She tried to regain herself back, but the sudden and continuous assault only managed to reduce her to a whining pitiful mess. His scent, down to his meat beating her, was too much for her brain to understand what was going on. After a few orgasms, the only thing it wanted was to feel Ace grinding up against her as her body chased yet another one of those releases.

"M- Much!" He hummed back, although it was broken from time to time as he would thrust into her worn down body without any care, to let her know that he was listening. "L— Love you zhis much!" Her slurred speech was barely discernible, but the heart she made with her fingers, hands pressed against the fat of her chest, was enough for him to understand.

And he came just with that.

His sudden hot, almost burning, semence made her shudder and a shiver ran through her body. But she didn't have much time to think about it before Ace laid beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist despite his fluid dripping out of her, he was not bothered. Far from it actually, he was quite proud about it.

When looked down at her, he was not surprised to see her already sleeping with tears already drying on her skin. She was definitely tired, and even if she had made a fuse earlier as she had asked him to take a bath, exhaustion had made sure to hit her before she could even think about it.

He was tempted to chuckle but stopped himself from doing when a yawn was forced out of his mouth instead. It was early in the night, barely the end of evening, but he sure was tired. And looking at her peacefully cuddling against him was a nice arguments to get him to close his eyes.

_____

The next morning, quite early at that as the sun barely peaked its nose between the dirty half ripped curtains, Ace woke up to movements by his side as he felt her sliding off the bed. He cracked his eyelids open, but the only thing he could make out was her putting on a pair of panties and a t-shirt, his shirt, that had been discarded the night prior.

She quickly left to go to who knew where, but he wasn't conscious enough to properly think about it. Whatever. He closed his eyes back after some time and tried to go back to sleep. His poor efforts were rewarded by the sound of the door cracking open.

Despite clearly trying to stay quiet, the wooden planks would howl under her weight and he eventually stopped trying after a while.

He reopened his eyes to her, hitching the bed cover up, ready to go back to sleep. He sat up which caught her attention and made her stop halfway through her action. She whispered soft words to him, excusing herself for waking him up, but the way she was bent over, trying to reach out for him as her shirt had moved way pass over her stomach and gave him a clear view of her soiled panties — the waking sun laying a soft blanket of light along the arch of her back, made an all too familiar intensity come back in his lower stomach.

He gripped her hand and pulled her under the cover. A small yelp left her, one that was quickly swallowed by him as he eagerly pressed his lips against hers in a messy kiss. Tongues and teeth meeting one another so early in the morning that she was barely conscious of it all.

A small giggle resonated in the room during the small time he had broken away from her to take a deep breath. The tip of his fingers had found a way inside her shirt, caressing the side of her stomach and leaving a stimulating trail of goosebumps behind them.

His lips went back to hers, but instead of connecting them, he left them hanging near each other teasingly. "Fuck, I want you…" He almost whined as his half awakened cock rubbed against her almost too shallowly.

"It's like 6 in the morning, we should sleep more before preparing for school." But her words fell into deaf ears as his hips moved with more force, his dick pressing against her despite the layers of clothes in-between them to the point where she could almost feel him penetrating her.

Her breath would be cut by a moan from time to time as she tightly gripped his shoulders. "Don't care about school." One harsh thrust made her bite the back of her hand with how loud her whine was. "I want to feel you again."

And maybe that she felt just the same because it was all it took for her to succumb to him.

When they finished, she could hardly feel her legs with how stimulated she had been in such a short amount of time. Each and every little movement brought the pain back, but it was also a pleasurable reminder of how much she liked it, enough that it almost made her ask Ace for more. Almost. Still it was enough for her to be more forgetful than usual.

Even Deuce had to step in when he picked both her and Ace up for school. He was a blushing mess as he pointed the trail of cum slowly dripping down her inner thigh. And when she had, quite detached at that much to his surprise, hoisted her skirt up to remove it with a piece of tissue, the sight of the ropes of cums desperately clinging between her exposed skin and underwear threatened to make him faint.

He didn't know what happened, but Ace would be sure to hear about his thoughts.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst smut #smut #lemon #ace x reader #ace smut #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola x you

371 notes · View notes