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#this got so far away from me they wouldn’t quit
xjustakay · 10 months
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(8/22) prompt: vulnerable — 1130 words (nsfw; explicit sexual content) @jegulus-microfic
Regulus knows that this isn’t what people have in mind when they tell him he needs to let himself be more vulnerable in his relationship. He knows that what’s been suggested to him is actually expressing emotion, actually letting the less than stellar bits of himself be seen.
It’s just that, he really can’t be bothered to give a fuck about that when he’s naked and on his knees, hands tied up behind his back, eyes covered with a silk blindfold.
Honestly, it’s about as fucking vulnerable as it gets, physically speaking. 
He never knows which way James is going to take things. Whether James is going to drive him to the edge and pull him back from it repeatedly. Or if James is going to see how many times he can make Regulus come before he’s a sobbing mess, begging to stop. Sometimes James doesn’t let him come at all, uses him as a couple of convenient holes to get himself off and calls it a night. Those times are particularly brutal, but it’s always made up to him in the morning.
Regardless, Regulus has been stressed the fuck out about work deadlines and about the bullshit drama with his friends and about his brother’s ridiculous wedding planning. He’s had a lot on his plate and letting James temporarily take it all off his plate for him, relinquishing the control he typically has a death grip on just for a few hours, it’s. Well, it’s just what he needs right now, okay?
His knees already ache where they’re pressed into the hardwood so he shifts his weight, trying to get some blood flow back. He breathes carefully through his nose, trying to stay calm even as his heart races in his chest. Flexing his hands, he tests the binds around his wrists, feels the delicious sting along the soft skin.
A hand trailing down his jaw startles him enough to jolt. He hadn’t even heard James approach from his left. James breathes out an airy chuckle and grips his chin, knocks his head around a little before abruptly pushing his thumb into Regulus’ mouth. Regulus sucks tightly around it immediately.
“Filthy little thing, aren’t you?” James murmurs above him, voice gravelly.
Regulus nods, humming when James presses down on his tongue, forcing his mouth open. James slides his thumb out, tugging downward with the drag of his thumbnail at Regulus’ bottom lip. Then his hand is gone entirely, Regulus mourning the loss as he listens closely to the couple steps James takes around him.
“Need something in your mouth tonight, is that it?” He’s in front of him now, and Regulus knows what that means.
“Yes,” He sighs.
James tuts at him, a borderline patronizing sound. “That’s not how you ask for something, love.”
Regulus’ tongue darts over his lips, breathing in unevenly. For two seconds he thinks to be a brat about it, just to see what happens. Just to know what James might do this time. But he’s also so fucking keyed up, he’s not sure he can take it right now.
“Please, baby, will you let me suck you off?”
“Oh, is that all?” It’s a taunt more than anything and Regulus shivers at the low timbre, the vague sense of dangerous implication.
“Please,” He repeats, whispering this time, hands clenching into fists behind his back.
He feels like he’s going to fucking buzz right out of his skin if he doesn’t get something soon. His cock aches, hard and heavy curved up toward his belly, but he knows that won’t get touched for a while, maybe not at all. He’s been kneeling on the floor for fifteen minutes now and aside from James touching his face, letting him suck on his thumb for those few seconds, he hasn’t touched him since getting him tied up and blindfolded. Just left him there, needing.
Regulus hears the creak in the floorboard as James shuffles a small step nearer. He doesn’t reach out and grip his hair yet, doesn’t guide him at all.
Instead, in a lowered voice laced with his own want, he says, “Find it yourself.”
There’s a whimper that slips past Regulus’ lips, unbidden, as he tilts forward blindly. He can’t move too quick and lose his balance, but he manages. At first, he misses entirely, nose nudging into the hot skin of James’ thigh. He mouths his way along from there until he feels the coarse hair at the base of James’ cock. The leaking head glides along his cheek before Regulus shifts to drag his tongue in a long, broad stripe up the length.
Before Regulus can do more than wrap his lips around the head, James fists a hand in his dark curls. His scalp stings from the tight hold and he is bold enough this time to squirm against it, just so James pulls. And he does, oh, he does. He yanks sharply, tugs his head back far enough that Regulus has lost where his mouth was ready to take James’ cock. When his lips part in a gasp, though, James sees it as an opportunity.
“Tongue out.” James says it, Regulus immediately complies.
James wastes no time after that, fucking into his face while he grips at his hair. Regulus can’t move in his grasp, can barely breathe with the constant thrusts at the back of his throat. Spit gathers at the corners of his lips, starts dripping down his chin the longer James slows and speeds up again, using his mouth for all it’s currently worth. Tears collect and soak into the blindfold over Regulus’ eyes as he chokes once, twice, and James just keeps going.
When James finally is reaching his peak, however, it’s not down Regulus’ throat that he comes. He pulls out, a thick string of drool connecting Regulus’ swollen, reddened lips and the tip of James’ cock. James repeats his instruction from before. Through the static in his brain, Regulus manages it, panting out his open mouth. A few seconds later James is letting out a long moan, coming on Regulus’ outstretched tongue, his lip, his cheek, his eyebrow where it peeks over his blindfold.
He feels positively wrung out and it’s not even his orgasm. James swipes his thumb through both come and drool lingering around Regulus’ mouth, shoves it between his lips to feed it to him.
“That’s so good, love. You did so good.” James wiggles his thumb back and forth over his tongue, Regulus groaning around it before it’s slipped back out. “Feel okay?”
“M’fuckin’ great,” Regulus mumbles dazedly, voice as wrecked as he feels.
James’ voice is nearer, more at his level, when he trails fingers up Regulus’ thigh and says, “Well, let’s make you even better then, shall we?”
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 month
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Feel like locating my secondary school PE teacher and sending him some kind of hate message tbh
#just thinking about the time he basically; apropos of nothing; decided to make us run a 5k all through town#i mean we ended up so far away from the school it MUST’VE been a 5k in total#and the people who completed each leg of the run the quickest (so; the fitter people) were allowed to rest until everyone else made it#then we had to keep going once everyone was there#which mean whoever got to the next checkpoint last wouldn’t get to rest at all#of course your girl was last#i ran most of it with somebody who just got out of hospital and she was insulting me the whole time for being unfit and saying she would’ve#left me in the dust if having surgery hadn’t impacted how fast she could currently run#i was like i wish you fucking would leave me alone#i was in so much pain. the stitch i got didn’t go away for absolutely AGES. i tasted blood in my mouth#of course everyone told me it was just my own fault for being fat and lazy and never running#like i didn’t do PE twice a week and try my hardest#just because my hardest didn’t look as good as everyone else’s hardest didn’t mean i wasn’t giving it my best#but this fucking man didn’t seem to know that#and i just have to wonder if crushing my & other people like me’s self confidence was the goal#or if he just didn’t understand the fucking thing he’d VOLUNTARILY become a teacher of#you can’t just make a beginner run a 5k!!! people who find it harder need longer breaks!!!!!!#he put me off running for SO fucking long. he & the girls he continued to gang up on me#whenever i run outside i think i’m going to hear laughter#and whenever i stop to walk i think i’m going to get verbal abuse#the way i’m twice as good a teacher as he was. and i quit. says a lot doesn’t it#i really think i might look him up and sign him up to be visited repeatedly by jehovsh’s witnesses#or just run repeatedly past his house with a sign on my back saying FUCK YOU TIM#i can’t actually remember his first name. it’s something similar to tim#i think he deserves bad things to happen to him so i don’t care if it really is tim#i change everyone else’s names but who the fuck cares about him#personal
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mostly-imagines · 2 months
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Banished
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason misses his girlfriend
warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)
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Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.
Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes and Tim sits atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.
Damian trudges past them to the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.
He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”
Jason just grunts.
He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.
It’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He wouldn’t mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stay behind. A lose-lose for Jason.
“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out.” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.
Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”
Jason kept his head down as he blindly reached for the spoon in his cereal and chucked it at Tim’s head.
Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”
“She’s gotta work.” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.
Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”
“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think.” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.
Damian pauses.
“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.
“Watch your mouth.” Jason mumbles.
“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.
Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”
It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.
Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.
He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.
Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.
He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.
And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.
And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.
Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.
But you could.
Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.
He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.
He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.
And he watches Jason.
As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.
He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.
He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.
The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.
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soaps-mohawk · 1 month
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go
Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 10,232...oops
Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff
A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate. 
What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest. 
No one can help you. 
You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place. 
The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked. 
The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 
You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover. 
Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens. 
How long has it been up there? 
You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you. 
Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat. 
You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room. 
You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious. 
You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk. 
A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed. 
You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing. 
Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden. 
You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn. 
Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.  
You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you? 
You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick. 
You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here? 
The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic. 
You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again. 
“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?” 
You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything. 
You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen. 
Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too. 
“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 
There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.
“Is everything alright?” She finally asks. 
“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.” 
It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously. 
“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says. 
“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.” 
“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?” 
“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 
You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine. 
You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction. 
You just want to feel at home again. 
You want to be safe again. 
***
The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.
You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat. 
You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening. 
Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it. 
You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping. 
You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room. 
You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in. 
You need tomorrow to come, and fast. 
***
Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort. 
All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position. 
You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed. 
That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along. 
The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 
You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission. 
You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do. 
You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so. 
You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer. 
She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?” 
No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety. 
But what if she gets mad? 
Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on. 
You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything. 
“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.” 
You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days. 
“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you. 
You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you. 
“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?” 
“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.” 
Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?” 
“I-I’m sure.” You reply. 
There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.” 
You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong. 
You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions. 
You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it. 
You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still. 
They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid. 
Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare. 
One of many. 
You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again. 
At least, until they have to leave again. 
You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return. 
***
Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again. 
You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright. 
You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again. 
John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain. 
His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again. 
“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head. 
You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm. 
He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here. 
“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.” 
You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first. 
“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again. 
“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.” 
You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain? 
“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.” 
Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him. 
And so you do. 
Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body. 
They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe. 
Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact. 
***
“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller. 
“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.” 
“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.” 
“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.” 
“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks. 
“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.” 
“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces. 
“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.” 
“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand. 
“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center. 
John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far. 
“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving. 
“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently. 
You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back. 
He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment. 
Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task. 
So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you. 
Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea. 
Or maybe that was their plan all along. 
He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out. 
Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave. 
He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them. 
Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you. 
***
You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.
“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you. 
You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking. 
John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth. 
You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you. 
“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says. 
Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up. 
“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. 
Even though they're back, you still don't have them. 
You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”
John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea? 
Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start. 
You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up? 
You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door. 
Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it? 
You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late. 
You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving. 
You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement. 
You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief. 
“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene. 
Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure. 
“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking. 
“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.  
He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either. 
“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.” 
Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”
He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before. 
You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general. 
Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification. 
Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room. 
“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be. 
And here you are making things worse. 
“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone. 
“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.” 
You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand. 
Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you. 
They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened. 
You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds. 
This is your life now. This is your new normal. 
“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet. 
You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again. 
Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours. 
It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.
***
You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket. 
“Can you breathe under there?” 
You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke. 
“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?” 
“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything. 
“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.” 
He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal. 
“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek. 
You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened. 
The dark thought sends a chill down your spine. 
“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit. 
John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it. 
He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous. 
You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest. 
His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down. 
“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.” 
“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”
You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control. 
“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”
You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation. 
At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it? 
You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside. 
He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting. 
You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.
Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger. 
The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.
The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha. 
***
“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk. 
“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them. 
Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore. 
John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him. 
“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”
“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch. 
“No promises.” 
Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else. 
He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too. 
He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them. 
He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again. 
John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided. 
Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling. 
“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”
“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him. 
“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”
“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes. 
“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”
The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle. 
Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress. 
Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses. 
“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long. 
“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now. 
He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence. 
An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger. 
He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.” 
He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor. 
“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.
“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door. 
“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office. 
He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time. 
“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”
“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters. 
“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.” 
John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds. 
If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives. 
John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room. 
Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind. 
You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again? 
Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded. 
Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help. 
Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle. 
How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them? 
Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet. 
He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure. 
John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold. 
Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again. 
Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress. 
“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie. 
Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you. 
It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most. 
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indulgentdaydream · 4 months
Note
BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BESTIE
what about a tired and very touch-starved jason wakes up at like 2pm and fem!reader is out of bed??? and he comes and finds them and throws them over his shoulder and brings them back to bed???? because why would you leave jaybean by himself????? unnacceptable???
THIS IS SO ADORABLE WHAT
And the idea of people waiting for my requests to be open is so weird like… what do you mean you wanna read my writings and hear my thoughts??? Y’all make me smile so much I swear
Side note: I’m so sorry this is a month late. And then also another day late than I said I would post.
Side side note: if y’all saw me post this without the photo header…. No you didn’t
M.I.A
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Jason Todd x gn!Reader || Domestic Fluff || Word Count: 758
Warnings: not completely proofread. Gun mention.
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Jason’s pulled himself out of a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare, though something eerily close.
It was one of those rare nights that he had off of patrol. One he where the two of you got to eat dinner together, watch some TV, get ready for bed, then fall asleep in your shared bed. He enjoyed the chances when he got them.
He laid on his stomach under the comfortably heavy duvet. His left arm was bent beneath his pillow, his hand grazing the hidden .44 he had convinced you to let him keep there, the other arm laying in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, clinging to his last tendrils of sleep.
All he needed was you back in his arms and his dreams would turn good again, filled with the smell of your soap and hints of faded perfume.
Slowly, he stretches his right arm out across the sheets, sleepily searching for your form. It drags along the sheets, his entire body only half-asleep.
He’s aware that there’s this… itch in his skin. Not a physical itch. An itch that can only be satisfied by having your arms around him again.
Jason Todd doesn’t count sheep. He counts your heart beats or your breathing. Sometimes both.
He must be laying further to the edge of his side of the bed than he thought. Usually, he doesn’t have to reach this far to get to you when you two drift apart in your sleep.
His hand grazes the wall. His eyes shoot open.
You aren’t in bed.
He pushes himself up with his elbows. A tired, confused, and slightly panicked frown settled on his face, his hair mussed up and flat on one side of his head.
The bedroom window is closed. The door is cracked open.
Then he notices the sound of the tap running in the kitchen.
Jason gets up and out of bed, moving languidly. He pads his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
His eyes squint at the light you had turned on as he stands in the doorway. All foggy panic he felt before faded away at the sight of you, filling a glass with water, standing in one of his shirts.
He shuffles his feet. A purposeful noise that he wouldn’t otherwise make as he went about his day, one to get your attention.
You turn around, your glass of water in your hand. You take notice of your boyfriend’s large stature filling the entryway, a sleepy pout on his lips. You give him a smile. He can tell you're trying not to laugh at his fatigued state.
“Want a glass, too?”
Jason shakes his head. He makes his way across the kitchen, his brows still furrowed against the light.
He just wants you back in bed with him.
He reaches for your glass after you sip from it. You hand it to him. Jason takes the cold glass in his right hand, bends down a little, and wraps his left arm tight around the bottom of your bum. He stands back up, now with you draped over his shoulder.
You squeal out a fit of laughter, "Jay!"
He flicks off the light as he exits the kitchen, makes his way back into the hall, then kicks the door to your bedroom shut as he carries you in.
Gently, he sets you back down on the edge of the bed. Once you're properly seated, he hands your water back for you to finish. Seeing your bright smile makes his own lips tug into a small one.
Jason rakes his hands through his hair as you drink. He rubs his hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes from a moment, trying to shake a bit of the sleep still clinging to him.
You hand him back the nearly finished glass of water. He watches you shuffled back under the covers, moving over to the wall-side. Your side. He finishes off the last two gulps of your water and sets the glass on the night stand.
He follows you under the covers, immediately pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your cheek and drops his head into the crook of your neck, an arm draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. He kisses your shoulder and gently squeezes your waist once.
Your arms settle around him, "If you wanted cuddles you could’ve just asked, you know."
Jason only grumbles an incoherent response. He shuffles and presses closer to you, holding you tight.
You kiss his forehead and Jason starts to count.
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Ahh!! I hope you like! This is lowkey rushed.
Also you can catch my personal headcanon of how Jason WILL keep his bed, with or without you in it, as far away from the window and door as possible. And you best believe that when you two share, you're getting the wall side so he can act as a barrier for any possible danger that may come in.
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13atoms · 2 months
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Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)
Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean
Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.
Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)
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The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.
You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.
It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.
Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.
Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.
“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”
You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.
“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”
“Exactly.”
“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”
Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.
“Not necessarily.”
“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”
His eyes snapped from you to his phone.
“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”
You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.
“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.
There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.
“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.
It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.
Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.
“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”
The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.
It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.
When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.
Spencer.
He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.
“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”
“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”
You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.
“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”
He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.
Oh, Spencer.
“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.
“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”
“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.
 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.
“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.
You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.
“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.
You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.
“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.
A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.
“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”
“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”
“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”
There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.
A rare breed.
You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.
You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.
 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.
You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.
“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”
The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.
When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.
“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.
“I think so.”
You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.
“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”
Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.
“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”
“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.
Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.
“I mean, look at it!”
You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.
Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.
“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.
“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.
“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”
Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.
“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”
“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”
He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.
“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”
Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.
“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”
He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.
“Are you okay?” you asked finally.
“I’m okay.”
You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.
 “Spencer…”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.
“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”
He didn’t say anything.
“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”
“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”
Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.
“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.
Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.
“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”
“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”
“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”
The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.
“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”
 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”
“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”
“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”
You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?
“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.
You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.
“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”
“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”
You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.
“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”
“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.
You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.
“I’ve got no idea.”
Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.
“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”
You frowned.
“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”
“Handsome?”
In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.
“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”
You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.
“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”
Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.
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kuromochimi · 3 months
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baby I’m nothing like your broke ex
gojo satoru, nanami kento
Content warnings: mentions of past toxic relationships, not proof read
🔜 suguru geto, kamo choso, higuruma hiromi
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Gojo Satoru
Satoru was rich. Like rich RICH. You first noticed this the moment you met him when you spilled coffee on his shirt then offered to buy him a new one instead. Instant regret when you realized that his shirt was worth more than your entire closet combined.
Being in a relationship with him was… well it was an adjustment. You lived a fairly simple life before you met him. It wasn’t a bad life. You still got to spend on your wants here and there but you had to budget such things much like any other common person had to. On the other hand, the word budget was non-existent to satoru especially when it came to you. He quite literally gave you everything. A few weeks into the relationship though, he had noticed how reluctant you were to accept his presents. You didn’t seem uncomfortable, just.. reluctant. He toned down a bit after this realization. But god he just couldn’t figure out why you were almost unwilling to accept anything at all from him, even food, even a ride home, even his hoodie which he already said you could keep. “Baby” he called to which you responded by looking his way. “Why do you never want to accept my presents?” He asked before he got up to approach you, immediately hugging you from the back as soon as you were within reach. “Hmm it’s not that I don’t want to.. it’s just.. you have to let me get used to these things first, okay?” satoru raised his brow “baby I know that shitty ex of yours can’t come close to how much I spoil you but was he that stingy?” at first satoru was only joking but your silence meant it was probably true. “So he was?” He asked as his chin was resting on your shoulder. “Come on satoru, he’s a thing of the past. He doesn’t matter anymore, ‘kay?” You tried your best to steer away from having to tell your boyfriend in detail but he’s right. Your ex was stingy as hell. It’s not like you ever asked for anything too much in fact, you don’t ever remember asking for anything at all. All the times he had to pick you up, he asked for gas money which seemed fair enough but it wasn’t just that. The man loved going on and extravagant dates but was never willing to fish out more than gas money. He adored receiving presents from you but could never be bothered to get you even the cheapest flowers. He used to say that he was just saving up to be able to give you the life you deserve but 8 years of having to sustain the luxurious lifestyle of a bum just made you snap hence, the break up. Satoru’s tightening embrace woke you from that little flashback. “Okay baby, I’ll make sure to spoil you but don’t hesitate to tell me if I go overboard hm? Love you” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and god, you felt so lucky to have found such a good man.
Nanami Kento
It quite literally took years of yearning for nanami to be finally able to date you. He was your junior in university and your junior at work as well. All that time, he had to witness you be head over heels for your then boyfriend, another one of his seniors. He thought the man might have put a spell on you because for the love of god, he could not see what kept you with the jerk for so long. Having observed your relationship from when he was a college freshman up to when he was a work colleague, your ex never even tried to mask how selfish he was with you. The man dawned expensive watches and drove a not so cheap car, he loved going to expensive places with his friends but with you? He wouldn’t hesitate to pass you the bill (like 85% of the time) whenever you went on dates, bought you nothing but cheap jewelry and quality reject flowers just because they were cheaper. Even worse, he also let you take the crowded train home everyday despite him driving to and from work everyday. He just couldn’t be bothered to pick you up because your workplace was “too far” and gas was expensive. If he really was struggling, it wouldn’t have been a problem but any person could see that he was more than capable of treating you better. He just didn’t want to.
Dating nanami was like a breath of fresh air. It’s not like you were materialistic in the first place but receiving pretty flowers and having someone make sure you’s comfortable and safe felt so heartwarming. On top of that, nanami didn’t make it feel like he was obligated to do any of that. He just genuinely wanted to care for you. It was all new to you that you even had to ask him to stop spoiling you too much, you felt bad accepting all that he was giving. “I know you don’t need them and I know you’re capable but let me do these things for you, hm?” Was what he’d always say and despite bot being able to voice it out to him yet, there is so much love in you knowing that it was possible to be treated this way. With so much care and love and concern.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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new follower
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words: 1.4k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, male receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex
rafe doesn’t follow many people on social media. topper, kelce, a few of his other country club friends, and you. 
the notification shocked you when you woke up one morning and saw that rafe cameron followed you back. you knew him decent enough, mostly through being friends of friends, with rafe being a year ahead of you when you were in school.
you assumed it was a mistake, he was scrolling his recent notifications maybe and accidentally clicked your follow button. you waited for him to realize and unfollow you, but it never happened, not even after a week passed.
“did you see?” you answer your friends call. rafe not only didn’t unfollow you, but he just liked and commented on your picture.
“holy shit. holy shit. holy shit.” stephanies excited voice rings out from the other side of the line, obviously having seen the recent development. “girl, he wants you.” “coming to the party this friday?” you say the message out loud, having already memorized it. you haven’t responded yet, not wanting to seem too crazy by immediately screaming yes. “i mean what else could that mean?” 
“girl, you are getting dicked DOWN at that party.”
--
you tug at rafes zipper, having already undone the button. you know you're moving too fast, should slow down and savor the moment as you sink to your knees.
“mmm, baby, you don't have to.” rafe reaches his hand down to pull you back up, but you already tugged at his pants, lowering them to his thighs so just his underwear is left covering his dick, obviously already hard and straining against the fabric.
“i want to.” you clarify, leaning in and kissing along his length until you reach the head of his cock, suckling at it through the material, wetting it with your mouth.
rafe is just as big as you thought he would be, you can tell just from wrapping your lips around him, making you even more excited to get him inside of you.
“fuck.” rafe groans. “quit teasing me, pretty.”
you smile at rafes compliment, pulling his underwear down, his cock pushing free, standing upright against his body. rafe groans as the cold bathroom air hits his cock, pressing his back even harder into the wall.
you waste no time, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, pausing for a moment to enjoy the taste before you begin to bob your head, unable to take him all the down, but getting pretty damn close before your gag reflex forces you to pull off.
“god, you're just as good as i imagined you'd be.” rafe moans, hands gripping your hair.
“you imagined this?” you ask, pulling away to blink up at rafe through your lashes.
“yeah.” rafe smirks. he's got no shame about being attracted to you. it's rare for a girl to truly capture his attention, especially for any period of time longer than a one night stand.
“oh.” you blush, wanting to know more details as you grasp his cock, stroking it to still give him some stimulation. “before or after you followed me?”
“after. can't believe i never noticed you in high school. your photo popped up in my discover and… god, you're just so pretty.”
“did you touch yourself to me?” you ask, the words tumbling from your mouth before you can stop them.
“you would like it if i did, wouldn’t you dirty girl?” rafe smirks, not giving you a chance to confirm that you really would like it as he pushes your head back down. you allow rafe to control your movements, keeping your mouth open as his cock pushes down your throat.
you swallow around his length, excited to tell all your friends about sucking rafe off in the bathroom at the party, especially stephanie, who you know can’t be far.
“god, i need your cunt. come on.” rafe tugs at your hair.
“yeah, yeah.” you nod, giving one last kiss to the tip of rafes cock before standing.
“turn around.” rafe moves you towards the sink, having you face the mirror. he smirks when you realize you’re watching him in the reflection as he pushes your dress up until your underwear is revealed, having chosen a cute thong specifically for rafe to see.
“jesus, you’re gonna kill me.” rafe groans, hands gripping your ass, feeling your plump flesh in his hands.
“yeah?” you smirk, leaning forward and placing your hands on the marble counter to shake your bum slightly from side to side. 
“too hot, i swear.” he groans, about to pull your underwear to the side when theres a knock on the bathroom door, making you both jump, forgetting that there was still an entire party going on.
“fucking occupied!” rafe shouts. “fuck off!”
you laugh at rafes yelling, listening to whoever knocked walk away, footsteps moving down the hallway.
“jesus.” he groans. “i should take you home before we fuck.” “what, not gentlemanly to take me for the first time in a bathroom?” you laugh.
“you’re not funny. i’m serious.” rafe pouts. “i like you, let me take you back to tanneyhill.” you turn around, pushing yourself up to sit on the counter. you lean forward, pressing your lips against rafes. its flattering that he wants to take you someplace more private, but you’re honestly not sure you can wait.
you reach between your bodies with both hands, moving your thong to the side while guiding rafes cock towards you entrance. you move the head of his cock through your folds, letting out a moan against his lips when you push it against your clit.
“alright, alright, shit.” rafe moans, “i’ll fuck you now.”
“good.” you smirk. “you can fuck me at tanneyhill later too.”
“oh yeah?” rafe laughs, pushing your hands away to take control, placing his hands on your hips as he sinks his cock into your entrance, moving slowly to let you adjust. “just can’t get enough of this cock, huh?” you let out a moan, gripping rafes shoulders as he stays seated inside you, pushing on your walls the perfect amount. 
“move. move, its okay.” you mumble. 
“god, i need a second too pretty girl.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to control himself from absolutely ravaging you and cumming far too early. 
you laugh, cupping rafes jaw with your hands, tugging him close for a kiss. it gives him a moment to settle before he starts to move, cock pushing in and out of your cunt, a wet squelching sound filling the bathroom with every movement.
rafe has one hand gripping your hip while the other slides to your back, keeping you from leaning backwards against the mirror, chest pressed against his.
“let me see your tits, baby.” rafe asks, looking down the top of your dress at your cleavage. you nod, tugging at the front of your dress, pulling it down so your chest is revealed, having forgone a bra. rafe smirks as he looks down, breasts bouncing every time he thrusts into you.
“so hot.” he groans, managing to duck his head to kiss over the swell of your breast while keeping his cock pushing into you. “touch yourself for me.”
rafe picks his head up to press a kiss to your lips before leaning back, looking between your bodies while you start with your tits, cupping one and jiggling it to show off to rafe before playing with your own nipples, switching to the other side.
“your cunt, come on. let me see how you touch yourself.” rafe knows he can't last much longer, needing you to get yourself off since his hands are occupied keeping you in place on the counter.
you sink your hand lower, ruffling over the scrunched up dress until you reach your pussy, sinking lower to gather some of your wetness from where rafe is pumping into you. you glide back up to your clit, rubbing it with two fingers in the way you do when you get yourself off.
“oh, fuck.” rafe groans as you clench around his length. “you're trying to kill me baby.”
“cum inside me.” you whimper. “please.”
“yeah.” rafe nods. “cant last.” you can tell from the way rafes cock swells inside of you that he's close.
“come on.” you begin to grind your hips up and down. “give it to me.”
rafe let's out a strangled moan, half sounding like your name, half sounding like a curse as he cums, pushing his cock as deep inside of you as possible, triggering your own orgasm as you let out a squeal, back arching into him as your fingers slow on your clit.
“fuck, that was good.” you pant, body flopping forward to lean your forehead against rafes shoulder.
“fuck yeah it was.” rafe laughs, carefully pulling his softening cock out of you. he takes your chin in his hand, picking your head up to press a kiss to your lips. “now when can we do that again?”
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targaryenluvs · 6 months
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OUR LITTLE DOVE
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pairings: dark!lucy gray x fem!reader, dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray
summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you. but it seems lucy gray is willing to share you with a certain peacekeeper, even if you aren’t.
warnings: crazy lucy n corio conspiring like evil doers, manipulation, chasing, primal play?? is that what is called idk corio enjoys hunting your ass down, kidnapping, drugging, forced into accepting a third partner?? nc touching, abuse of power (peacekeeper), power dynamics, kinda cheating (lucy n corio), guilt-trip, jealousy, threatening, self doubt and relationship problems, murder, betrayal
word count: 3.0k
a/n: lol i complain about wanting to write fluff but all my good ideas r so dark 😭 someone needs to give me tips on how to write girls cuz i have no experience would be easier if i was gay boooo!!
he was like a shadow, stuck to your back, always.
you’d complained to lucy numerous times that you didn’t feel comfortable around him when she played at the hob, knowing he’d be there, in the crowd. “sweetie, he was my mentor. he helped me so much in the games, i wouldn’t be here without him. you love me don’t you? so you need to learn to love him too, he’s a good friend a mine. i love you and i gotta get to the stage baby.” she explained as she ran around getting herself and the covey ready.
you were always front row. wanting to be as close to lucy as possible. she looked especially majestic tonight with flowers in her hair. as you listened to her sing you’d managed to forget about the certain blonde peacekeeper near the back. but he hadn’t forgotten about you, nor lucy.
you’d left to get a drink and you’d came back to an unfamiliar tune. you usually knew every song being played off by heart but this was new.
Everyone's born as clean as a whistle
As fresh as a daisy
And not a bit crazy
Staying that way's a hard row for hoeing
she sounded as angelic as usual and the crowd around you seemed entranced.
As rough as a briar
Like walking through fire
This world, it's dark
This world, it's scary
lucy smiled at you once, just once. which threw you off since you usually got a bunch. especially during new songs and songs about you. was this not also about you?
I've taken some hits, so
No wonder I'm wary It's why
I need you
so it is about me! you thought as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sway to the music and singing. you’d hoped you wouldn’t miss a smile headed your way.
You're as pure as the driven snow
your eyes flew open as you stared at lucy, she was looking past you and to the peacekeeper. to coriolanus snow. you’d always been a rational person, you prided yourself on restraint but that restraint was hanging on by a thread. you wanted to jam a beer bottle into his neck. lucy was your girlfriend not his. and yet he smiled stupidly towards her as she sang and you could feel your heart clawing its way up. best to leave now rather than stay and hear more of the ever so driven man.
your head was spinning as you slumped to the floor, in one of your finest dresses yet worst mental states. of course, something had formed between the two. she was in the goddamn hunger games and he was her mentor. trauma bonding? he quite literally saved her life, coached her and you did what? sat at home and hoped.
hope could only get you so far.
your hope and faith in lucy gray baird was dwindling as her lyrics swirled in your head. of course she loved him. who wouldn’t? the man was undeniably eye catching. a capitol man. but you’d always imagined lucy staying away from the capitol, despising them. but maybe it wasn’t the captiol part but the man part. maybe she wanted a true life, a home, marriage and children and everything she could wish for.
what on earth could you provide her with?
“y/n?” it sure as hell wasn’t lucy calling out for you and you knew that. coriolanus’s reflection was prominent in the puddle before you as he neared. great, you sneered, would love to get to know you mr peacekeeper. please tell me how you stole my lovely girlfriend from me!
your chest felt oh so heavy as you heard his footsteps in the gravel, determined and unwavering as he made his way to your slumped body. “what do you want? you wanna gloat?” coriolanus stopped in his tracks, gloat? “why would i gloat?” you looked up at him annoyed, “rub it in my face. you practically stole my girlfriend from me.” coriolanus laughed. actually laughed and it made you want to strangle him with his stupid dog tags.
“sweetheart.” vomit. you wanted to vomit. maybe choking and dying on your vomit would be less embarrassing then this. why on earth was this fuck head calling you his sweetheart. “fuck off.”
you didn’t see him coming. and you certainly didn’t expect his demeanour to snap. but the large hand tangled in your open hair was a big slap in the face to your unreadiness. “you of all people don’t get to talk to me like that. do you know who you’re talking to?” you could hear his perfect porcelain teeth grinding at your words. god this man couldn’t handle an insult. wuss.
“what the hell is your- ow! problem!” you yelped as he dragged you into an alleyway. “you need to learn how to respect your superiors. if you’re nice to me, i can make your life easier. doesn’t it hurt? not being able to fully provide for your family? seeing them struggle? do you really think disrespecting a peacekeeper is going to help? i suggest you straighten your act and thank me for even looking your way. there are plenty of other girls here.”
but he didn’t want those other girls. he wanted you. you with the teary eyes and messy hair. you who he’d been seeing in his dreams and during the day. you with the kind smile and curious eyes. you who were so sweet and pretty but mean when need be. the y/n who was stupid enough to spit such hateful words at a peacekeeper. but he’d teach you. whether it be with words and lessons or actions and bruises. you’d learn your place, by his side and lucy’s, and underneath. but with such fearful, brown doe eyes watering up infront of him, the girl he’d heard oh so much about from lucy. how could he refrain from indulging?
his hand reached out to wipe away the few stray tears that fell as his left extended towards your right, which was clutching your head, where he’d grabbed you. “shh, let me help you.” your hand slowly retracted as your heart ran a marathon. the man was obviously unstable, going from a deceptively caring man to violent. coriolanus smiled at your actions, and it freaked you out. he caressed your scalp in an attempt to soothe, “good girl.” he cooed as your apparent saviour approached.
“sweetie?” lucy called out to you as coriolanus withdrew from your personal space. he walked over to her and she let him. he held her hand and spoke with, love? his voice was soft and comforting, his thumb again caressing the back of her hand as they talked, whispered, plotted? god knows, all you wanted was to leave.
was this your chance?
you tested the waters, slow and calculated movements as lucy nodded in agreement with him. but by the time they were done speaking you’d bolted.
but you sure as hell weren’t getting far with these two on your tail, poor y/n l/n. a little dove trying to spread her wings but they were bound to be clipped.
your feet were throbbing and begging for you to slow down. but your brain was in charge for once, your heart which yearned for your dear songbird pushed to the side as your head screamed and urged you to go. she was in league with him apparently. her seeing him corner you and not even batting an eyelash. did she truly care for you so little? did she want to rid herself of you? she could’ve broken up with you and let that be it. maybe the games had twisted her head.
even as you believed yourself to be gaining distance from the two you could hear the not-so distant steps of determined pursuit, headed your way. how would they kill you? slow and intimate? hasty and brutal?
“if you stop running now we won’t be mad little dove!” lucy shouted in warning as you felt yourself momentarily slow at her words. traitor. you thought to yourself as your body involuntary listened, she still had an affect on you. “she’s right, we love you, we won’t hurt you. unless we have to, don’t give us our reasons.”
“shut up!” you screamed. god, i know we haven’t talked in a while. last minute efforts right? maybe he’d listen to you, save you from your tormentors. you should’ve kept your head clear, focused on running. focused on your surroundings and if you had, you would’ve noticed the nearing tree roots, thick and protruding from the ground, ready to knock you down.
you crawled behind the tree, trying to catch your breath as your hands worked tirelessly to provide some form of relief to your aching ankle.
crack.
you’d been found. you fucked up.
“our little dove, ever the sprinter.”
his words had you lurching forwards in an attempt of fleeing but lucy’s cold hand on your ankle dragged protests and cries from your throat as well as you, back to them. “you should’ve listened before, we would’ve been nice. given you some time to adjust, but you can’t sit and think for a second can you?” coriolanus mocked as his hand trailed up your un-injured leg, “that’s okay, you won’t be doing much thinking from now on. we’ll be taking care of you, since you obviously can’t take care a’ yourself baby.” lucy’s voice was saccharine, like honey, and her smile was even sweeter. the familiarity and comfort of her presence was intoxicating, you felt at peace on one side and the other wanted to jump off a cliff. she lowered your guard and coriolanus slithered right in.
the prick in the side of your neck wasn’t painful, but their words were. “you’re with us now, we’ll take care of you, we promise.” and you were stuck, stuck with them for god knows how long.
you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, adjusting to the room. maybe they had killed you? in their own twisted way they’d keep you forever, in their memories and soul. coriolanus and lucy’s voices swam around your head and blended together. you were wrong. yay.
“it’s a bit early for katniss, even if it’s one of her favourites.”
“she should eat something better.”
“better? don’t go all capitol on me now corio.”
he was smiling, you could tell.
“never lucy gray. but she’ll be weak for a few days, proper meals will help her regain some strength.”
you picked your head up and looked through the window, the lake was evident.
“alright, you go grab it and i’ll stay here.”
“why? so you can get more time with her? if anyone should get extra time it’s me.”
“now who was her partner first? oh that’s right, me. you’re acting as if i’m gonna pick her up and run away. if you’re that scared than we’ll both go. take her with us.”
coriolanus’s head whipped towards the cabin and you quickly flopped back down on the bed. you shut your eyes as you heard the door creak open. “gosh, doesn’t she look pretty?” lucy asked, knowing the answer already. “so calm, i liked her better when she was crying.” lucy hit him, “coriolanus snow!” he stroked the side of your face and you had to resist from turning your head and biting his fingers off.
“little dove.” your eyes opened again, turning your head his way tiredly. “we need to get some supplies okay?” you nodded as lucy went outside to gather the baskets she’d left out earlier on to dry. coriolanus’s hand dug into your cheeks as he forced you to look at him, “i told you i’d make you respect me. now listen, if you try anything when we’re in town i will never let you forget it. you’ll know who you belong to every single day. maybe i’ll pay your family a visit? an appointment with the hanging tree for being rebels? stealing?”
you shook your head violently as you began to cry, “you don’t want that? didn’t think so. you listen to me and everything will be fine. your family will get daily help and weekly groceries. they’ll never go hungry again. all thanks to their sweet little girl. lucy’s too nice, but don’t think for a second she’ll save you from me. you’re mine and if you try anything.” he leaned in to whisper, “i’ll strangle her with my bare hands infront of you.” his words were meant to scare you, and they did. but don’t you know? coriolanus snow doesn’t need a reason to do bad things.
coriolanus was wicked and ruthless when it came to what he wanted, if you had any hope of trying to get through this then you’d need lucy’s attention and help. so you nodded. “words sweetheart.” you swallowed your pride, your dignity, and you shook hands with the devil.
“yes, i’ll do what you say.” he straightened up, his white shirt a contrast to his dark thoughts.
“y’all ready to go?” lucy questioned as coriolanus grinned, “yes, yes we are.” he lifted you up and helped you dress, you hadn’t realised the fact that you were only dressed in his own white shirt, dress to you. he handled you like you were the most delicate object. as if he wasn’t hell bent on breaking you, over and over again. till you were fit to his standards. the captiol standards. the snow standards.
his, his, his.
with how obedient you were, he figured you’d do well in the capitol. which was exactly where he was meaning to bring you.
lucy walked in front of the two of you as you made your way through the woods. coriolanus’s hand was glued to your waist as he held you close, afraid to let go. you were at flight risk of course. his grip was tight and bruising. lucy’s humming distracted you at times, if you were delusional enough you could imagine it to be the two of you. your brothers far infront and the covey following. after an amazing afternoon at the lake, heading home for dinner, maybe a performance or the night shift.
your daydreaming was interrupted when you clocked coriolanus’s missing hand from your waist, and his arm now around lucy grays throat.
don’t you remember? you’d do well in the capitol! you were his! but not entirely, no.
not with her in the way.
you were frozen in place as lucy clawed at him before reaching out for you. a plea, a cry for help and aid yet you stood stuck in fear. a minute, two. she’d put up a strong fight, especially when you ran towards the two, pushing and shoving at coriolanus to let her go. but again, you fucked up.
here lies lucy gray baird, singer, victor, psycho.
obsessed? madly in love? you couldn’t think of another word, and as much as you wished to forget her, forget how she’d practically allowed another man into your relationship and let him kidnap you. her lifeless face and hollow eyes made your heart clench. but soon enough she was rolled over, thrown in a pre-made hole and buried. she’d survived the games but no one survived coriolanus snow.
“don’t forget what i said. don’t forget what you agreed to. you said you’d do as i say, i’m telling you to get up and follow me. we’re leaving district 12.” your face was painted with confusion as coriolanus clutched your face, “i’m going back, and you’re coming with me. don’t ask questions, just do as i say.”
and you did.
when he had you say goodbye to your family, a courtesy, a privilege he’d granted you. you kept it short and sweet, no questions just hugs and false promises of return.
when he ushered you onto the train and he wanted you to sit and be silent, you did.
through his time at the university, he wanted you close to him, living with him. and you did.
through his presidency campaign he wanted for you to charm sponsors and entice newcomers. you did.
when he wanted to marry you in a grand spectacle infront of the captiol and dress you up, you did as he asked.
when he held you down on your wedding night after tearing your dress off, biting and marking you down all over, pushing you down to your knees and took you all over the house, asking you to give yourself to him as if he didn’t take you anyways, you did.
you had no idea why at this point.
for your family? who hadn’t reached out in so long, even when they promised to talk to you every day? coriolanus had them all arrested, punished and hung for inciting riots and uprisings.
for your friends whom listened to your concerns of the capitol peacekeeper who hovered and didn’t make you feel crazy? each of them ended up dead in many different ways, hung, shot, a mugging gone wrong.
you didn’t know at this point and when you looked in the mirror you didn’t recognise the girl who stared back. a captiol sheep, dressed up in the finest silk dresses and slick heels yet the filth underneath the finery, jewels, and makeup weighed you down. each time he touched you, kissed you, fucked you, it felt like a peace of yourself was thrown away.
and as you clutched your swelling stomach, you couldn’t help but feel pity for baby number four.
maybe you’d grow up and find love.
maybe i’ll be able to take you all away from him.
maybe we’ll heal.
you thought, but in the back of your head, a little voice wouldn’t shut up.
you’ll always be his little dove.
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xveenusx · 4 months
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Wanted
Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader
Summary: in a world where someone had everything, she still got treated like she was nothing. all she wanted was to be wanted.
Authors note: I wanted this piece piece to be as real as possible. It's not simple, its messy. We've all gone back to that one person we know we shouldn't just because being alone seemed worse. Also she gets absolutely railed so that helps. So please be kind to her lmfao.
Rating: smut, 18+, mdni, ANGST
Song rec: making the bed by olivia rodrigo
Part 1: Guilty
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Bored. 
I was so incredibly bored. I leaned against the built in bar as I watched Topper and Kelce take body shots off some tourists they invited. The loud bass of the music did little to tune out the annoying voice of Amy Culpo, who stood next to me, and rattled on about my mother’s latest line. 
“I mean, it’s absolutely stunning.” I know it is. I was there when she designed it. “Any chance you have tickets to her next show?”
Ah, there it was. The brutal truth he reminded me of all those months ago. Every interaction was a strategic move to climbing the next prong on the social ladder. Everyone always wanted something. 
I used to fight that notion. I thought I was better than them because I actually cared about other people. My wealth did not define me nor how I treated other people, but despite every effort I made both before and after him, I realized none of it mattered. 
I couldn’t escape my wealth. It was permanently engraved into my body and no matter how hard I tried to scrub, it wouldn’t go away. I’ve now fully embraced that ugly truth and decided that I might as well use it to my advantage. I almost always had something that others wanted and I just had to figure out what they were willing to give. I didn’t need any more money, but there were things that were far more valuable. Favors, tickets to the hottest openings, plane rides. Since everyone already saw me as a spoiled little rich girl, I might as well play the part. 
‘Depends. Are those last season MIU MIU?” I asked, tossing a look at the shoes on her feet. 
“There from the season before-“ I pulled a face at her words. Before last season? I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything last season let alone the season before. 
“Oh honey, if those are two seasons old, then I highly doubt you have anything I want.” The shocked look on her face dulled the aching pain that seemed to permanently reside in my chest. 
“I can charter a plane-“
I raised my hand to silence her. “You don’t have your own?” 
What was she even doing here? 
This was a new little project of mine. I tossed away all those societal niceties that did little for me in the end. I still couldn’t get anyone to stay. This was much more fun. You’d be surprised by how much stuff you could get away with if you cut out all the bullshit.
Amy’s cheeks flushed red and maybe once I’d have felt bad or be disgusted by how I was treating her but I was numb. I realized nothing really mattered. Whether I was nice or rude, people all wanted the same things from me. At least this way, I could armor myself. 
“There’s my pretty girl.” Warm hands curled around my waist, tugging me against a hard body. 
I rolled my eyes. I wasn't his anything, Rafe knew that but he’s always had a flare for the dramatics. Tom Ford’s Noir de Noir filled my nose as I swatted at his hands, hands that I’ve grown quite familiar with. 
“You left me.” I shot him a bratty look, one he met head on with a smile. Amy still stood there awkwardly, clearing her throat in an obvious attempt to gain my attention. 
I turned around in Rafe’s arms, debating my next move. Almost immediately his chin came to rest on the top of my head while his arms curled around my front.
My eyes shot one last distasteful look at her outfit, before tossing out my arm in the opposite direction. “Shoo.”
She huffed before stomping away but not before shooting me one final glare. A look that would have made me cry before, but now it simply dinged off the impenetrable armor I’ve suited myself with. 
“I was hoping it’d build character, but clearly that didn’t work.” I could hear the smile in his words as he pressed a kiss on the top of my head. 
“The entire conversation was dull. She didn’t even have a jet, plus her shoes were two seasons ago.” I shuddered in disgust. Could never be me.
Rafe clutched his chest in mock disgust,”Not two seasons.” 
I let out a huff, my chest going warm at the teasing glint in his eye.
There was no spark. There were no butterflies. Just familiarity and warmth. It was safe. We both knew what this was and expected nothing more. For now, we were just having fun. Despite the fact that I spent most nights at his place and rarely found myself without him.
I’ve found somewhat of a friend in Rafe. Someone to share the burden of being from a family like ours. He understood me. He enjoyed shiny things just as I did. 
We spent a lot of our time going to the mainland because the idea of running into him still sent me to my knees. This was a small island. One that he was spending all his time running around with her instead of me. Rafe never said a word about it, never mentioned his sister or her pogue friends. And for that, maybe I do love him a little.
“You make fun of me now, but you’d still be wearing polo shirts and plaid shorts if it weren’t for me.” My hands smooth down the front of his linen light blue shirt, the first several buttons open paired with some black Gucci slacks and a black belt from Dolce & Gabbana. He no longer looked like a frat douche but a member of upper class society. 
The same can’t be said about his friends.
“C’mon. Top and Kelce want us over there.” Rafe grasped my hand and tugged me in the direction of drunken yells. I pursed my lips but trudged behind him. The idea of being thrown up on was less than appealing, but being by myself was even less appealing.
“Hey guys.” Rafe nodded at them, taking a seat on the adjacent couch, a table with all sorts of drugs littered on it in between them. 
The pair of them were obliterated, both their pupils blown wide and their speech slurred. That didn’t stop them from tossing me a sloppy grin and shouting a greeting. 
The spot next to Rafe was vacant but on the other end was a couple gnawing each other's faces off that had me scrunching my nose up in disgust. He surely didn’t expect me to sit next to that?
He didn’t even bat an eye, instead Rafe patted his lap, tugging at my hand to sit down. “Wanna drink, baby?” 
I nodded, deciding to once again indulge. It was better than feeling that stabbing pain that burned in my chest. It was a horrible solution but one that Rafe always supported, in fact he often took part in self-destructing with me. We were done with trying to be perfect for parents who couldn’t give less of a fuck. 
A red solo cup with a familiar yellow concoction was waved in front of me. The pungent scent of tequila burned my nose and I shot him a secret smile. Rafe’s blue eyes narrowed in on me, glued on my smile before he shook his head in amusement. 
“That’s the kinda night we’re going for?” He asked, his hand slowly gripping my thigh. 
“Unless you don’t want to?” I sighed dramatically, pushing his dark blonde strands back from his face, something I knew he loved. 
“If I ever say no to that question, feel free to shoot me.” 
A giggle escaped my lips as I tapped my cup against his before bringing it to my lips, tilting my head back and zeroing it out. 
The tequila left a burning trail down my stomach that I welcomed. It meant I was one step closer to not feeling anything at all. 
“Another?” Rafe’s eyes pointed at my now empty cup and I nodded. 
Being responsible was so overrated. 
Lifting his hand up, almost immediately two younger boys, about 16, appear. Rafe pointed at me, muttering something before the pair nodded and took off.
I raised my eyebrow at him, confused. 
He just shrugged, leaning forward to touch the golden pendant that hung from my neck. “I promised them tickets to the Charleston basketball game if they did whatever I said.”
“Why?” 
“I was bored,” He hummed in response,”This is new, it’s pretty..” 
I smiled back at him, the very picture of nonchalance, before replying,”Thank you. You bought it for me.” 
His ocean eyes rested on me, the infatuation clear as day that had my stomach clenching. “Course I did. I have great taste.” 
Rafe gave me his card about two months ago, not that I needed it, but he enjoyed taking care of me and I didnt mind. Plus, whenever he made me mad, I made sure to run the bill up, hoping for some type of reaction but it only left him amused. 
Nerves gnawed at my stomach at the intense eye contact. Maybe the lines have blurred slightly. Clearing my throat to try and break the tension, I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Want to see what else you bought me?”
“Enlighten me.” 
I flashed him my freshly manicured nails, “What do you think?” 
Rafe caught my hand, a half smile painted on his face, and kissed it. “Is that passion pink?” 
“It’s actually bubblegum blush.” 
“Beautiful, baby. I love it.” His words burned into my chest. 
It was hard to describe. His approval had butterflies thrumming in my stomach. Maybe it was because we were stuck in similar situations, but his approval suddenly meant something to me. Being with him meant I wasn’t alone. 
“You know we’re right here, right?” Topper's voice cut through the tension and I let out a laugh, relieved to look away. 
“Fuck off.” Rafe laughed, regaining his composure as well. 
Topper leaned forward holding out a black AMEX for me to take. My eyes paused on the card before shooting him a flat look. 
“Are you kidding?” 
Topper gave me a blank look, not a thought behind those eyes. 
I rolled my eyes and stuck my nose up in mock outrage. “Rafe does it for me.” 
The annoyed look on Topper’s face sent a thrill through my body. He was the easiest to rile up and Rafe knew it as he hid his chuckle with a quick cough. 
The hand on my bare thigh slowly drew circles, the action almost unconscious, which had my brain blanking. It was a relief to not think. To not remember. To not feel. 
“Are your hands broken?” 
“No. I’m too pretty.” I shrugged, batting my lashes at him.
Topper openly scowled at me, his eyes dropping to where Rafe’s hands held me tightly. “What happened to the nice little girl who cried about everything?”
“Lay off.” Rafe snipped, leaning forward and snatching the AMEX out of his hand. His movements were quick and precise, with ease that only came with experience. 
He separated the coke into three lines, one for me and two for him, just like always. 
Bending over, I snorted the line quickly. Turning to hand Rafe the hundred dollar bill, his fingers dust off any remaining powder off my nose, before he bent over and did the same.
I leaned back into Rafe, the mixture of the tequila and the sting of the coke had me feeling sublime. It was a perfect balance. The alcohol got me warm and buzzed while the coke kept me awake and alert, an upper and a downer, a perfect description for every emotion in my body. 
“I grew up.” 
Topper hummed. “You certainly did.”
For the next hour, my mind never drifted to him. I enjoyed having thoughts that were my own, that didn’t revolve around him. Instead, my thoughts focused on the man below me. Rafe was always touching me. Even more so than usual, his hand never left my body once. If I let go of his hand to reach for my drink, he’s just moved it to my thigh. It was almost possessive which was odd, we didn’t do possessive. 
Every couple moments, he’d pause in the middle of a conversation to press small kisses anywhere his lips could reach. It seemed performative, but I just couldn’t prove it.
“You’re thinking too hard.” His hot breath hot against the shell of my ear. 
I said nothing for a moment before licking my lips and muttering,”Are you okay? You seem more clingy than usual?” 
He just nodded, pulling me to his hard chest, his eyes darting to the side. “I just like having you with me.”
The sentiment was sweet and my heart tugged at his words. But, I couldn’t let go of the feeling that I was missing something. “I like having you with me too.” I allowed myself to give him a sliver of vulnerability, something I’ve avoided like plague, because it was true. He made living just a bit easier.
My head began to spin as I felt the lines of our odd friendship begin to blur. I knew neither of us would admit the sudden shift but it was there. I could tell with each lingering gaze and those secret touches. Maybe there was something here. I just had to give in.
“I’m glad you came to your senses,” He responded, but once again his eyes are not on mine but darting around me. 
“What does that have to do with anything?” My voice comes out hushed, hoping it would get him to lower his voice. 
My smile from his previous confession dimmed. Nerves slowly began to surface as I tried to read between the lines.
“You do belong with me, at least that's what you scream every night, isn’t that right baby?” He was boasting, loud enough to have his boys give him lame-ass high fives. 
The small burst of happiness curdled like old milk in my stomach. I wasn’t a prude, not by a long shot, but I was a private person. Rafe knew this and he was still flaunting our private moments in a way that made me feel dirty. 
“Stop talking about me like that.” I said, “What’s gotten into you?” 
I felt Rafe go rigid under me. Frowning, I tilted my head back to make sure he was alright but his eyes were glued ahead. 
“Rafe, I’m here for my stuff. Where did you say you put it again?” 
My head turned and my stomach did a backflip. Sarah stood at the entrance of the room, looking immensely uncomfortable. 
John B stood behind her, his big brown puppy-like eyes widened at the sight of me on Rafe’s lap. Or maybe it was because of  the coke laid out in front of me? 
But wherever he was, JJ wasn’t far behind. John B whispered something in Sarah’s ear, her eyes jumped to me for a split second before returning to his. She nodded and John B made a beeline for the other room. 
I let out a choked laugh. I’m sure he was going to report back to his little lap dog. What were they even doing here in the first place? It’s not like Rafe knew-
My brain clicked into place. The constant need to touch me and the over the top PDA was because he was here. Rafe knew he was here and wanted to rub it in his face. 
Rafe’s words were never for me. They were for him.
None of this was real. Not the endearing names, not the proclamations of affection. An ice bucket of realization poured over me and I felt like a fool. A fool for thinking that somebody else could want me, could maybe even love me.
Fuck this. Fuck both of them. 
“You knew.” I accused, shoving his hands off of my body. 
Rafe said nothing, but the flicker in his eyes gave him away. I wasn’t safe with him either. Embarrassment oozed into me, the feeling painstakingly familiar. We agreed to never make each other feel this way since our parents did it enough, but he did it to me. 
Don’t think. Don’t feel. 
Snatching the cup out of his hand, I forced it down, gulp by gulp, wincing at the burn. Straight tequila. “Babe-“
“Shut up.” I hissed, moving off his lap and shoving Topper to move over. Everyone always wanted something from me. 
They never just wanted me.
Maybe I was defective. I had to be. 
JJ didn’t love me when I was me. When I cared about other people and sacrificed pieces of my happiness for them.
Rafe didn’t love me now. When I was a spoiled brat who treated everyone like a transaction. 
It didn’t matter if I was nice or a total raging bitch. Either way, I couldn't get anyone to love me.
I was just the stepping stone they used before they found the person they really wanted to be with. I was just there to make them feel good about themselves. For them to take and take just to toss me aside when they were done. Leaving me a shell of a person with no one, not even myself.
I guess, I was impossible to love.
“Line it up, Topper.”
“Can I at least get a please?”
“Be lucky that I’m even talking to you.”
Topper scoffed but did what I asked, lining up two lines of chalky white powder. “There you go, princess:” 
A rolled hundred dollar bill was held out in front of me. Plucking it out of his fingers. I bent over the table. Don’t think. Don’t feel. 
Dragging the cylinder bill down the crystal snow powder I’ve grown to love, I inhaled deeply. The chemicals flowing through the nose. I could practically feel the coke dissolving into my bloodstream, my body vibrating in response. 
Dropping the bill on the table, I tilt my head back, begging my brain to shut off. I closed my eyes and chose to focus on the beat of the music that had my heart thrumming in my chest.
Then it happened.
All the air in the room was sucked up. The hair behind my neck stood up and my body suddenly awakened in a way it hadn’t in months. 
My body recognized him before my brain did. The moment I opened my eyes, his eyes clashed with mine.
JJ.
It was like seeing him for the first time, a memory I thought I would never get the chance to feel again. 
Heavy set blonde brows framed his bright blue eyes beautifully, the strong cut jaw that was currently clenched, and his lips soft and pouty, tightly pressed in a flat line. This face, his beautiful face, wouldn’t be complete without some mark. A bruise, a soft purple and yellow hue, decorated his cheek bone. His bottom lip busted. 
He was so beautiful. 
My body reacted before my brain could follow. I stood up quickly, too quickly that the blood rushed to my head and the room seemed to spin. 
God, he was beautiful. And I fucking hated him for it. He was supposed to be like me, a complete and total mess, but instead, he looked the same, even better actually. 
That thought alone had me ready to jump off the balcony.
My movements were clumsy and I drunkenly stumbled while standing still, his eyes clocking that in seconds. 
Despite the loud music, I noticed the silence coming from the couch. 
My eyes jumped to Rafe. All the laughter around us died off and everyone was exchanging nervous looks. It didn’t take a genius to read the room and the situation I’ve somehow managed to put myself in. 
Blue eyes flickered between the two of us. It cracked my chest open wide and opened the floodgates I’ve been trying so hard to keep closed. 
The crushing inescapable weight of shame hit me first. I was plastered, obviously so, and high as a kite. The evidence of what I’d been doing displayed out in front of me like a flashing sign. And I was fucking the one guy he hated. 
It was unreasonable, I know. He left me and even pushed me in the direction of the one guy he hated and yet, I was the one feeling bad. He hasn’t even opened his mouth yet and it’s been turned onto me. But love never makes sense. It made the most sane people lose every coherent thought, I was the prime example.
“You should probably go, bro.” Rafe said, his tone was anything but. 
He moved from his spot on the couch and stopped beside me. Rafe shoved a hand in one pocket while the other reached for mine, but I folded my arms across my chest. Mostly because I was mad at him, but a part of me didn’t want JJ seeing that. 
JJ didn’t spare him a second glance.
He had on a dark blue short sleeve button down shirt with black cargos and chunky black boots on his feet. A backwards red hat settled nicely on the blonde mass of wavy hair and his shark necklace hanging against the exposed part of his chest. 
It was so JJ. All of it, right down to the colorful bracelets that littered his wrists. 
A hand grasped my chin and tilted up. I held my breath. His fingers slid along my jaw and he rubbed his thumb over the skin. His eyes felt like lasers, honing in on every detail of my face. 
I swallowed audibly. JJ leaned in closer, bringing his height down to mine. His thumb brushed a soft stroke below my nose while his lips brushed against my ear. 
“You had a little something on your nose.” 
JJ let go of my face, his expression hard. Then he brushed past me, leaving a gaping wound in his wake. 
Tears burned behind my closed eyes. He didn’t need to say it because I already knew what he was thinking. Sure, JJ smoked some weed but he never touched any of the hard stuff, not wanting to pick up the same habits as his dad. Hard drugs were a hard limit for him and he found me snorting several lines of it. 
I went and became the very thing he hated, just like he wanted. It didn’t feel as satisfying as I thought it would. Instead, I felt like I lost another piece of myself. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said to Rafe, finally gathering the courage to open my eyes. 
He shuffled beside me. “Him being here wasn’t going to change anything.”
We both knew that was a lie.
“It’s him, Rafe. It changes everything for me.” 
Rafe scoffed and shook his head. “You’re really going to try and go back to that?”
“I’m not saying that-” I spluttered out, outraged as his voice continued to carry across the room. 
“He didn’t want you.” 
People around us began to whisper, their heads huddled together with their phones out. Wet hot tears threatened to fall as the control I took months to master began to unravel. 
“Yeah, well you don’t either.” 
“What the hell are you talking about? Before he got here, everything was perfect.”
“I’m not stupid. You think I didn’t notice what you were doing? That wasn’t for us, that was for him.”
“I didn't mean for you to think I was using you-“
I gripped his chin, and pulled his face down to my height, my eyes brimming with angry tears. “You don’t use me. I use you.” I shoved his face back, needing to collect my composure. 
Everyone’s eyes were on us and I was desperate to save face. It was the only thing I had left. 
“Get the fucking picture?”
“Crystal clear.” He responded through gritted teeth, his eyes hard. 
“If you want a whore, go buy one.” 
Rafe cleared his throat, his face iced over. “I thought that’s what I was already doing.”
I stood there for a moment, not understanding what I did to deserve to be treated like this by not one man but two. I felt like an idiot. Like the stupidest fucking person on this god forsaken planet. 
Two hours ago, I thought that maybe Rafe had feelings for me and played with the idea of exploring that with him. And now, I was a gold digging whore. 
I felt another piece of my heart break off, mourning the loss of the only friendship I really had.
Pressing my hair down with my hands, I look down to fix my dress, swallowing as I went, hoping to pull myself together and buy some time. 
“I’m glad to hear how little you think of me.” I sent him a sad smile,” I guess I’m keeping up with everyone’s expectations.” 
I stepped around him, heading to the direction of the bar, the adrenaline from all the excitement having effectively killed my buzz. 
Staring at the bottles of liquor on the counter had me frowning, all being some bottom shelf brand I’ve never heard of. I moved around the bar to the cabinets behind it, looking for the good tequila. It was the least Rafe could do seeing as though he just blew up whatever the fuck we were doing. 
Spotting the only tequila I drank, I grabbed the entire handle. Twisting the top off, I tossed it aside carelessly before taking a healthy swig. Then another. And another. 
I stumbled into another room, shoving people out of my way. I ignored the angry shouts because I was way past the point of caring. I just-I just wanted to see him.
As if someone heard my thoughts, I spotted JJ leaning against a wall with a lit joint dangled between his fingers and a beer in the other. 
He had so much charisma, it demanded the attention of the room. People gravitated towards him all the time but he refused to see himself that way. 
Even now, he stood surrounded by several people, including a girl who was too close for my liking, and they were hanging onto every word. All of their bodies angled towards him, nodding along. The people around them curiously moving in to hear more of the story that had so many of them laughing. 
It was almost ironic. It was the point I was trying to prove all those months ago. Kooks vs. Pouges was bullshit. Because, right now JJ is telling a story to a bunch of Kooks who were eating it right up. Neither parties cared about their status, they just wanted to socialize and have fun. 
Why couldn’t he see that? 
The organ in my chest began to flutter, the butterflies erupting in my stomach at his nearness. Panic began to set in. I thought I’d pushed it all down. 
All it took was seeing him. Just once. For the last couple months of progress to be thrown out the window. I made sure to not feel anything anymore, because the alternative destroyed me. And yet, there he stood, looking like every dream I’ve ever had, and completely disarming my very being with one look. 
I never wanted to feel that way again. My heart was open and my soul was bared, but I was naive. I thought love was supposed to be empowering. But really, it was poison. It slowly entered your bloodstream, coating every vein before slowly taking over every organ. It leaked into your brain and made you lose all common sense. The poison tricked you into thinking that certain treatment was okay because at least they were here. At least, they still wanted to be with you because they love you, right? 
But eventually, like all things lacking an antidote, it began to cut off your oxygen. It curled around your lungs and squeezed until you gasped for breath with tears staining your face. It didn’t matter how much you screamed and shouted, nothing came out. The last organ it takes over is your heart. That silly little organ who was so trusting begins to pump faster, desperately trying to get that oxygen to your brain, because maybe then you’ll finally be able to think clearly. But in the end, it slows down. Each pump is slower than the last until finally it comes to a stop. The heart broke. 
It’s the closest thing to dying I’ve ever experienced.
It was like drowning on dry land.
His words did not leave me dented, but destroyed. 
I lost my sense of myself. I lost my identity. I put on a performance every time I left my house, wanting to see just how far I could get away with treating people the same way they treat me. 
At first it didn’t feel good, but now I didn’t feel anything at all. Or so I thought until I saw him again. And I just want to see that he was doing okay and maybe, if I can admit it, to see if he still loved me, however little that may be.
I watched from my spot on the other side of the room as the crowd began to disperse, leaving JJ with some blonde. I vaguely recognized her from a shoot for one of my mom’s brands. I believe her parents worked in the fashion industry as well. Which would have been fine, had she not said something that had him give her one of those rare smiles, the ones he used to give me in private. 
Nausea roiled in my stomach, maybe it was all the tequila or maybe it was seeing him smile at someone else when all I wanted was for him to smile at me. 
She leaned into him, a coy smile played her lips, running her fingers down the shirt I bought him, which basically made it mine. And I hated when people touched my things.
The mix of tequila and coke emboldened me. I found my feet moving in their direction before I could stop myself. 
“I wouldn't waste your time.” I could not get myself to stop talking.
“Why’s that?” The blonde’s eyes narrowed, her cheaply manicured hand resting on JJ’s bicep.
“JJ doesn’t go for kooks or so I’ve been told.” 
“Maybe he just didn’t go for you.” Oh, how cute. 
“Oh honey,” I sighed dramatically and took one step towards her, tilting my head to the side, dragging my eyes up her body, in obvious distaste. “Are you new here?”
“Well, yeah but-“ She tried to explain. 
Clearly, she needed a run through on how the social ladder worked here. I was at the top and everyone else was at the bottom. 
“Your mom works for some brand from Paris right?” I watched as her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. 
“She does. We moved here because she’s doing a collab with-“
“With my mom.” 
“So I suggest you take your hand off of him,” I smiled on cue, my tone dipped in sugar before batting my eyelashes at her innocently,” Unless you want her blacklisted?” 
I could see her debating what to do. She didn’t know if I was bluffing but she'd learn rather quickly just how far I was willing to go. 
“Hmm, cute shoes.” I hummed, “Chanel?” 
She nodded, apprehension on her face. 
“Won’t be able to buy those anymore if your mom doesn’t have a job.” 
Her hand fell and satisfaction settled into my like molten lava. “You can go now.” 
The blonde pursed her lips and stalked off, leaving me alone with JJ. “Trying a new type”
“And what type would that be?”
“Desperate.”
JJ tipped his mouth, saluting me before taking a sip of his drink. His eyes already glazed over from the joint in his hand. 
“A thank you would be nice?” I muttered, taking another pull from my tequila. I couldn’t talk to him sober or I’d lose my nerve.
“A thank you?” He appeared almost amused, adjusting his red hat. 
“Yeah, I just saved you.”
“I didn't realize I needed saving.” 
“Self-preservation was never really your strong suit was it?” 
JJ laughed, his eyes straying to the bottle cradled in my arms. “I could say the same thing, Princess.” 
Fuck him for calling me that. So what, I’ve learned to indulge just a little. It made everything in my life a little more manageable. 
“It’s called having fun, JJ.” Pouting as he snatched the bottle from arms just as I went to take another shot. “Since when did you become the responsible one?”
JJ leveled me with an unamused stare. 
I huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Tough crowd.”
JJ snorted, pushing the leaves of a nearby plant back before dumping the remaining tequila. My mouth dropped open as he wasted every last drop of my liquid courage. 
How the hell was I going to talk to him now? 
I pursed my lips, “That was mean.”
“I’m doing what your boyfriend should have done an hour ago.” His gaze fixed on my face, the intense stare causing my cheeks to turn red. God, would he stop staring at me?
“He doesn’t tell me what to do.”
“Then he shouldn’t have left you alone.” His tone laced with annoyance, “You have all these fuckers staring at you and you’re wasted.”
I tilted my head back to stare up at him, the annoyance I knew came from a place of panic. That was just how JJ was wired. 
“So you’re in love with me?” Someone come arrest me, because I cannot keep my mouth closed.
JJ shook his head clearly fighting back a smile. “You’re so crazy.” 
“What else could that mean?” I asked truthfully and I knew I had a love struck smile on my face. One that I’ve only given to one man in my life and he stood in front of me.
I just wanted to be near him. I wanted to hear his laugh and see him smile.
His face softened at my words. “Are you okay? Does he take care of you?”
“Of course, I’m okay. Why do you ask?”
“Only one of us is fucking loaded.” 
I rolled my eyes and plucked the joint from his fingers. “Correct me if I’m wrong, and we both know I rarely am, are you not high too?” 
“Not from cocaine.”
“Already back to judging so soon?” I mused, taking a hit off the joint, the familiar stinging sensation wrapped around my lungs and squeezed. “Careful, I might think you care.”
Kill me now. Thank god, he took away the tequila.
“Who said I ever stopped?” My heart lurched in my throat.
I blew the smoke out slowly, my fogged up brain rushing to keep up with his words. 
Someone stumbled in front of me, slamming into my shoulder sending me flying forward into JJ’s arms. Something cold and wet splattered onto me, the bitter liquid dripping down my legs.
“Are you blind?” I shouted, shoving another drunk party goer off me. Looked like a tourist. 
She held her hands up in apology.
“I’m so sorry. Here, let me help.” To my absolute horror, this fucking tourist used a napkin and went to scrub the stain. Are these people animals? This was custom versace.
“Stop!” My cheeks flushed, from the weed or from my constant streak of bad luck. “Clearly, you’ve never owned anything worth keeping but this is Versace, you dick.”
I needed to go home before I burned this entire house down. 
“Is that how you talk to people now?”
I let out a loud groan. “Oh fuck off, JJ.”
I shoved him away from me, before grabbing the skirt of my dress and heading into the nearest bathroom, which just so happened to be Rafe’s. 
In reality, I just needed to get away from him. I needed my hands to be busy so that I couldn't grab his face and kiss him. Because I really wanted to do that. 
The sound of footsteps have my eyes widening in panic as I take in my ruined dress. All because of that blonde asshole next to me, if he hadn’t showed up, I’d still have my tequila and my sanity.
“I wanted to talk.”
I made a noise at the back of my throat. That didn’t sound like JJ at all.
“Fine, whatever. Close the door.” I didn’t need a million other people to see me lose my shit. I was already at my quota for the day. 
Jj stared at me with a confused look. “Close the door.” I nearly shout as the footsteps get closer but he moves just as quickly and slammed it shut, putting the lock in place.
“I just got this piece too.” I grumbled, huffing at the stained skirt. It was the Medusa 95’ Cut Out Mini dress in a stunning pastel pink. And now ruined with a beer stain from that horrible girl outside. 
“I remember this one.” JJ spoke from behind me. Of course he did. He remembered everything I bought. 
He always demanded fashion shows after all my shopping trips. He knew nothing about clothes but he always paid attention to me. He used to sit for hours while I prattled on and on about clothes.
“Unzip me?” 
“I’m sorry?” He choked out, setting his beer down.
“I need to clean it before it stains. Unzip me.” 
In hindsight, I was goading him. I wanted to see what he would do. I could tell he was already on edge since seeing me with Rafe. I wondered what a little push would do.
Neither of us moved for a beat. JJ puffed out a breath from his cheeks before he walked toward me slowly. I remained stock still, watching his every move in the mirror.  “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.” 
My heart fluttered at his nearness. Something I wanted since the minute he turned around and left. Home, I wanted my home back.
I jumped up at the feel of his warm breath against the back of my neck, goosebumps rising instantly. The tug of the zipper had me swallowing the lump in my throat. His other finger caressing every inch of skin, the zipper surrendered. 
The sound of the zipper stopped but he never dropped his hand. Instead, I watched as JJ swallowed before lifting his head, those storming blue eyes connecting with mine in the mirror. 
I stood on my Magda Butrym Appliquéd satin sandals and a flimsy pair of tiny panties. 
“I feel like this is a test.” I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.
“Is it?” I mused, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. 
“Yeah and I’m failing.” 
The pads of his thumb brushed along my bottom lip, dragging it down slowly. My lips parted as a soft whimper escaped. 
“You’re still so beautiful, it hurts.” He murmured, almost angry with the revelation. 
Blistering hot satisfaction dripped over me. 
JJ’s other hand grazed my bare back, the contact immediately chasing my back to arch. Sparks of sensitivity erupted from my skin as my body trembled with hot desire. 
His hand moved higher, gripping onto my hair before wrapping the long strands around his hand, tugging my head back, demanding my attention. 
He stared at me with heavy lids, eyes like ocean blue blades. My body began to heat up. 
JJ’s eyes dropped back to my lips causing me to the lick them quickly. He backed me up against the Jack and Jill sink, my back resting against the cool granite counter. 
I blinked slowly, making the decision for him, angling my head up and smashing my lips to his. 
A groan ripped from his chest as he met my kiss with the same crippling desperation. His rough hands dropped from my face to my hips, his nails digging crescent shaped marks in the skin. 
My legs began to slightly shake as his tongue finally brushed against mine. Oxygen was something neither of us needed as we fed off each other's energy. 
His tongue licked and twirled around my own, another moan vibrating between us. JJ’s large hand trailed up skin, goosebumps appearing in its wake, before locking around my throat. 
His grip was strong, not enough to cut off my oxygen but enough to garner my attention. He pulled me up to my tippy toes by my neck, my nipples brushing against the rough fabric of his shirt making me gasp at the contact. His mouth clashed with mine once more, his lips wrapped around my tongue, sucking gently before pulling back and biting out a curse. 
My hands were desperate as they began to unbutton his shirt quickly, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. JJ whipped off the shirt just as my hands began reaching for his shorts, my fingers fumbling with the button. 
The laugh he let out was devastating. His smile was purely lethal for my heart. “We got all the time in the world, princess.” 
My stomach clenched at the nickname he gave me all those years ago. But, we didn’t. We both knew this moment would end the minute we came to our senses. 
JJ unbuttoned his pants and dropped them in one smooth movement before pressing his warm body against mine once more.
“Up, baby.” My arms wrapped around his neck immediately, my nose grazing his. JJ gripped my thighs tight as he placed me on top of the counter. 
He rested the palm of his hands on either side of me, enclosing my frame, daring me to move. JJ leaned down, his lips leaving phantom kisses along my collarbone, nipping as he went along. He stopped at the swell of my breasts, both hands encasing my heavy aching breasts before pressing them together. 
He pressed scorching hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of exposed skin. His tongue pressing against my swollen nipples before closing around one and giving a strong suck. I was a mess beneath him, my chest heaving with heavy pants. 
He nipped and tugged at the soft flesh of my breasts, leaving small purple love bites scattered on my chest. He pressed a kiss on each one, a pleased hum echoing within the bathroom. 
JJ dropped to his knees slowly, each hand running down my bare legs. I wanted to see him. 
I leaned back on the palm of my hands and arched my back in a teasing invitation. Pulling my legs from his grasp, I propped my feet up on the counter, but kept my knees bent, the tops touching.
The utter obsession that painted his face had me biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. “Please, Jayj.”
He stood stock still, similar to a statue. It looked like he almost stopped breathing as I slowly pushed my knees apart. I was drenched, I could feel myself soaking the skimpy fabric of my thong, my thighs glistening with the evidence of my arousal. 
JJ’s eyes went black, locking in on my wet pussy before jumping back up to me. His hands found my thighs and roughly dug into the skin to keep my legs from closing. 
He leaned forward, his index finger hooking the front of my thong before curling the fabric and tugging it up roughly between my lips. “Fuck.” I mewled, watching as he pressed his face between my legs and inhaled deeply. 
I could feel my clit throbbing, needing to be touched. With one more tug, JJ slaps the side of my thigh, having me lift my hips up to take the last piece of fabric off my body. An insatiable grin formed on his face that went straight to my clit.
The first touch onto my lips had my hips shooting off the counter, his touch like electricity. He blew a breath against the aching skin, his hot mouth watering at the sight of me. Two fingers pushed apart my drenched folds, rubbing against the sensitive skin again and again, turning me into a mindless puddle. 
He smirked at my trembling legs. “You okay, baby?”
“Fuck off.” I responded through gritted teeth, trying to gather myself. 
He dipped forward, gathering saliva before slowly spitting it out, the stream of spit pattering against my spread lips. The sound was obscene. 
“That’s not very nice.” 
Tears of frustration began to build up as I discarded my hands into those loose blonde strands, knocking his hat off. “You love it.”
The grin he sent me was feral and I knew this was exactly what I needed. “I sure do, princess.”
He enclosed his mouth against my swollen clit and sucked roughly, a loud shout erupting from the depths of my chest. JJ parted my lips again, forcing his tongue inside and out, again and again, devouring every inch of my pussy. 
My cunt clenched against his tongue making him moan loudly. My body was burning as he swirled his tongue along the bundle of nerves once more. Another cry left me as I tried to find something to grab onto. His tongue lapped up all the fluids that continued to come out and I found myself forgetting how to breathe. 
I pushed his face deeper, grinding against his nose that continuously rubbed against my clit, my fingers tugging at his hair, needing a release. The knot in my lower stomach began to tighten as I whispered his name again and again like a prayer. The sound of my breathy pleas spur him on as he slipped two fingers in my pussy, meeting no resistance. 
The squelching noises had me throwing my head back against the mirror which had begun to fog up. I clenched around his large fingers that rubbed against my sensitive walls wanting him to lose control. 
JJ curled his fingers upward causing my knees to buckle and my mind go blank. I was close and he knew based on the tremors the shook my legs. I could barely hold myself up as everything went fuzzy. 
A choked moan escaped my lips that curled into a ‘o’ as his mouth sucked that rigid spot of flesh while his fingers continued to hammer into me. The invisible band snapped and as a wave of pleasure washed over me. My body finally began to relax as I tried to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling dramatically. 
I spared a glance at him. JJ’s eyes were low, eyes pitch black and glued to my face, and his cheeks flushed red. He looked pussy drunk. 
“Looks like I have to clean you up.” He mumbled against the flesh of my thighs. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as his hot tongue began to catch all the arousal that dripped down my thighs. I was sensitive and tried to move back, but his hands locked around my thighs to keep them open. Shives forced their way up my spine as he lapped all my fluids up, humming as he went along, not leaving one bit of skin untouched. JJ pressed one last kiss before pulling back and licking his lips.
My heart hammered through my chest and vaguely though my haze of pleasure did I hear a murmur.
“Huh?” I felt him smile against my thigh, clearly finding my delirious state funny.
“Barry, man, have you seen her?” Rafe’s voice drifted under the door. 
I froze at the sound of his voice, my eyes darting to JJ who just smirked from his spot between my legs. 
“She’s right here, man.” JJ whispered, straightening up to press a kiss on the crown of my head. I shook my head at him, my eyes wide with a silent plea, but JJ disregarded it. 
 “She’s a little busy at the moment.” 
I shook my head, pressing my palm against his mouth, his next words coming out muffled. He never knew when to shut up. The last thing I needed was Rafe finding us in his bathroom.
I kept my hand on JJ’s mouth until footsteps faded and we were alone once again. 
JJ nipped at the palm of my hands, his tongue slipping out. My face screwed up as I let out a squeal, “Ew, Jayj.” 
“Shouldn’t have tried to shut me up to protect your boyfriend’s feelings.” He said the words lightly, but I could hear the slight edge in his tone. 
Pushing him off my softly, I hopped off the counter with shaky legs. “Since when do you care about Rafe’s feelings?”
I winced as I tried to take a step, my knees nearly knocking together from the aftershock. JJ always left me a shaking disheveled mess afterwards, but I felt lighter, because he was looking at me the way he used to. 
And, I wanted that to last just a bit longer. 
“I don’t care about his feelings-“ He scoffed, before pausing at the teasing smile on my lips. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Too easy.” I let out a shriek of laughter as JJ's arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me up in the air.
That was how I found myself sweaty, pressed against Rafe’s sheets, struggling to breathe. The violent sound of skin slapping echoing in the room, my raspy moans intertwining with his hot pants. 
One of JJ’s hands gripped the back of my head, pinning me to the mattress, the other pushing down on my back, forming a deep arch, to pull his cock in deeper. 
I couldn’t register anything he was muttering as he bottomed out since of me, my mind go blank. My walls spasmed against him with each rut of his hip, sucking him back in every time he pulled back. 
I was soaked, my pussy dripping around him. The sopping wet noises spurring him on, his pace quickening with those deep purposeful strokes. 
I couldn’t focus on anything but him. The smell; the feel of him. The way his cock continued to brush against my cervix made me borderline delicious. 
“Fuck,” JJ shuddered, rolling his hips in and out of my pussy had me clamping around him once more, a tidal wave beginning to build up inside me. 
 I whimper left me, the coil in my stomach pulling tight as I searched for a release. The tip of his cock pressed into me repeatedly, forcing my legs to shake once more. 
My hands searched for something to hold onto as I tried to anchor myself from being drowned in pleasure. “J. J, I-I cant-I’m gonna-“
I felt his pace begin to pick him, his cock twitching inside me as he continued his movements, grinding his hips against the globes of my ass, until there was no space between us. 
It was like he was imprinting himself into my skin. Like he didn’t want me to forget him. 
As if I could ever forget JJ Maybank. 
My whines got louder, his words becoming more and more depraved. His large calloused hands ran all over my body like he was etching it to memory. 
Quick and quiet gasps bled from my parted lips, as he hammered into me from behind, his hands lacing with mine against the sheets. 
The coil in my stomach snapped, white flash blinding my vision, this orgasim more intense than the first. I could feel myself coating his hips and upper thighs, fluids dripping on the sheets. 
I could hear JJ’s voice whine, he began to babble nonsense under his breath, with each languid thrust. 
My heartbeat was in my ears as I pushed my hips back to match his thrusts, wanting him to finish despite all my sensitivity coming to head. His nails dug my hips, my cunt suffocating as he continued to grunt his cock into me. 
“Fuck, Kiara.” His grunt echoed in the room.
Kiara? 
I went numb. I couldn’t breathe-I couldn’t, I needed-
Bile coated my throat as whatever childish hope I had shriveled up in my chest. So I laid there, not knowing what to do, as JJ continued to pump in and out of me, but the soft intimacy we shared before dissipated. 
Why did no one ever pick me? Why didn’t anyone want me? 
I let my body go limp even though everything in me wanted to shove him off, but I just couldn’t get myself to move.
That was all it took for JJ to realize the slip of his tongue. JJ froze behind me as I shoved my face into my arms and choked on a gut wrenching sob. 
“Fuck, I-hold on,” JJ’s panick was audible as he slowly pulled out of me. I cupped my mouth to try and muffle the scream I wanted to let out. 
His blue eyes widened in horror at his mistake but it was too late. The words were already burned into my mind, replaying on a torturous loop.
JJ’s hand reached out for me, but I shrank back, scrambling to the headboard, desperate to put distance between us. 
I curled into myself, pressing my back hard against the headboard, willing for myself to disappear. 
“What did you just call me?” My chin wobbled. I tried to remind myself to breathe but with each inhale, my lungs were saturated with pain. 
“I-That was an accident.” He stuttered, raking his hands through his hair roughly.
“Get out.” 
“It just slipped out, I didn’t mean it.” 
“Get the hell out, JJ.” I yelled, and pointed at the door with a shaky finger. 
Like I said, his words never dented me, no they completely destroyed me. They cut me like a freshly honed razor blade.
And I was going to die of blood loss if I didn’t get him to leave this room. He had no problem leaving me then, why was he fighting it now?
Was he thinking about her the whole time he was inside me? 
Thought after thought haunted me. Was he comparing our bodies? Was he comparing the sex? 
Mortification had my stomach churning as I debated what to do next. My body was wound tight, on the verge of hyperventilating. 
Did he love her? Did he love her like he used to love me? Did he fuck her the way he fucked me?
I hated him. Before him, none of these thoughts would have crossed my mind. I may have been alone but at least I liked who I was. I never would have questioned myself the way I am now. But after him, the only thing I hated more than him was myself.
“Was Kiara not available,” I murmured, “so you came to the one person you knew would say yes?”
JJ didn’t find my joke funny. The air was tense, as if we were trapped in a steamed up bathroom, making each breath harder than the last.
“Kie and I aren’t together.”
“JJ, you know where the door is. Use it.” 
“I don’t want to leave.” He shook his head, his eyes flickering with something heavy. 
“You had no problem doing it before.”
“That was-“ JJ squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
He shuffled closer to my body, but still wasn't touching me. I nibbled on my bottom lip and wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks hastily. 
“I’m sorry.” He said, clearing his throat. “I am so so sorry.”
I lost my grip completely as those eyes perverted mine. His eyes were so blue, it was easy to get lost in them. 
Words couldn’t find their way out of my mouth. With wary eyes, I watched as he stood up and disappeared in the bathroom before appearing again with his shirt. 
JJ reached for me before pausing, his eyes asking a silent question. I nodded, forcing myself to loosen the grip I had on the sheets. 
I let him put the shirt on me, its protection better than the flimsy sheet. JJ dropped his head on my chest, his tan arms wrapped around my waist, curling himself into me. 
“I’m sorry.” 
I was sorry too. I waited for months for him to be back in my arms, but he ruined every independent thought I had. I couldn’t stop the overthinking. I couldn’t stop the pain.
I was hurting too, but I was the one comforting him. I was always the one comforting him. What about me?
I laid on the soft sheets and stared up at the ceiling. Our heavy breathing echoing in an otherwise silent room. His heavy arm tossed over naked torso, his fingers softly tracing the curve. The whisper of his breath caressing the nape of my neck where his face was buried. The familiar tickle of his golden strands brushing against my nose, his coconut shampoo wafting my senses.
The JJ induced haze began to clear up and the ugliness began to set in. 
A single tear escaped my eye, its trailing burning it’s way down the side of my face. I loved him. Even after he willingly abandoned me. After he humiliated me in front of everyone. After he called me her name.
I couldn’t cut him out. It didn’t matter what he did to me, the minute we’re within the same vicinity, my self preservation disappeared. Then I was left, treading water in the middle of a storm, with nothing but a life jacket. 
I had no one to blame but myself in this situation. I knew how he spoke to me, how easily he left me, how embarrassed he was of me. But he just smiled and it was like everything melted away. 
I so badly wanted to feel again, but not like this.
So all I can do is lay here. In this bed. With a boy who made me hate the kind person that I was. 
I made my bed. I didn’t realize this was how I’d feel when I lied in it. I turned into someone I hated. And suddenly I was bone-tired, exhaustion suffocating my lungs. I had no idea who I was and I was tired of being someone I wasn’t. 
“Where are my clothes?” I said. God, I needed to leave this room before Rafe found me. 
“I wasn’t really focused on that part, babe.” JJ mumbled, burrowing himself deeper into my side. 
My stomach lurched. I thought I’d feel different. I thought that maybe this would fix everything. That in some deluded way, we would get back together and everything else didn’t matter. Like he didn’t leave me standing at the party after stomping on my chest.
“I need them.” I mumbled. I choked down the need to throw up. The feel of our sweat coating my body and his soft breaths against my skin had me almost hyperventilating. 
Home, he used to be home. But, I’ve never felt like more of a stranger than in his arms right now. This was no longer my home. 
Kook pussy. Daddy issues.
I fucked up. Fuck, I fucked up. 
This only made me feel worse. I was good enough to fuck, but not enough to stay. 
“What are you in such a hurry for?” His fingers paused their persistent movement. 
“I have to get back-“
“To who?” JJ snapped. 
I moved to sit up, dragging the sheet with me as I avoided his gaze. “You know who.”
He didn’t need to know that Rafe and I basically ended. I just wanted him to hurt in the same way I did.
He let out a scoff. “You can’t be serious?” 
“Dead serious.” 
“This isn’t like you-“
“You left. You don’t know who I am anymore.” 
“Clearly,” he chuckled under his breath, “But suddenly Rafe does?”
I shrugged. “He’s my friend.”
“I don’t give a fuck who he is-“
I tuned him out. I was too busy trying to get his actual voice out of my head. 
Kiara. Not me. Kiara. Not me. 
It had taken every bit of strength to not chase after him that day. To not call and text, begging for him to give me the time of day. And I know, I know I should be stronger. I know I should have said good riddance and moved on, but love was never simple. 
When I saw him tonight, I thought that maybe it was fate. So all the waiting, all the practice of self control paid off because he came back. But, was this what was waiting for me?
“You slept with me,” I said, “ but you’re thinking about her?”
I didn’t want to know the answer, but I had to ask it. It was just one of a million questions I had since the day he walked away. Was there something I could have done differently?
I was wracking my brain to see where I had gone wrong, but maybe I just fell in love with the wrong person.
“From what I hear, you don’t care about anything these days. Why would you care about this?” I couldn’t detect any emotion in his words, just cold hard facts. 
I really was out here exceeding everyone’s expectations of me. 
But, he had to know that when it came to him, I always cared too much. That’s why his words caused another jagged piece of my heart to puncture my chest.
“Why would I care?” I whispered, shaking my head at him. “Are you listening to yourself?” 
Had I deluded myself so much into thinking we experienced the same love in our relationship? How could he even question that. Everything I did was always for him.
“I care about you, that never changed.”
Something pained flickered through his gaze. “Care about me? Yet your fucking Rafe Cameron.” 
“You’re mad about that?” I choked on a humorless laugh,”Let me jog your memory real quick since apparently you’ve got amnesia, you were the one that told me to be with him.” 
“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually do that to me.”
I threw my arms up in the air, exasperated,”Then why say it at all? Wait, I forgot who I’m talking to. You’re the king of saying shit you don’t mean.” 
“Saying shit and actually doing it are two different things.”
“Well, you did do it Jayj.” My lungs hitched. 
His jaw tightened, tension seeping out of him in waves. 
“You left. You did the one thing you promised you’d never do. You didn’t even look back as you did it.” I shouted, tears blurring my vision as my body continued to shake from adrenaline. “All because what? Rafe hurt your feelings? Because I have more money than you?”
I wanted to understand him. I thought I did once, but the more I thought about our breakup the more I saw it had nothing to do with me. And everything to do with him.
“Do me a favor and grow up. This is the real world. You’d swap places with any one of us in a second if you could.” 
JJ narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want any part of your world. I thought I made that clear.”
“I’m aware. But I was there, remember? For every bonfire, for every boat ride with you and your friends. What was it you guys said again?” It rushed out of me, “to going full kook?”
He watched me stoically, his fingers tugging at his bracelets. 
“I guess you’re the only one that can have the money in the relationship?” I raised my eyebrow at him, waiting for him to respond. 
The beautiful blonde boy that seeped into my bloodstream and made me love him. But, ruined us in the process. He destroyed everything he touched. 
He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, 
“What happened?”
“You want to know what happened? You fucking happened.”
That familiar anger flared in his eyes and I knew exactly what he was going to do. What he always did to me, but this time, I wasn’t going to let him erase me. Not again.
“Let’s talk about who you turned into?” JJ spat vehemently. “What? Rafe buys you a nice purse and you’re suddenly snorting lines of coke?” 
“It was actually a couple purses.” 
JJ shot daggers at me. “So what? You’re proud of that?” No, I only wanted someone to care about me if I died.
“I’m only doing what you told me, I’m sorry you don’t like the person you turned me into.”
I didn’t like her much either. But, JJ never gave me more and I realized he would never give me more, no matter how much I pushed. No matter how hard I tried to get him to see that I was the one he should be with. 
It pained me that it took all of this for me to realize that there were parts of JJ he would never let anyone have. 
“Why are you still here?” I said quietly. “I’m not going to let you sit here and make me feel like shit for how I chose to cope with what you broke.” 
I was done giving the men in my life power over me. I needed to stand on my own two feet even if that meant I had to do it alone. 
“Feel like shit?” JJ nodded his head with mock outrage,” Princess, you just let me fuck you in your boyfriend’s bed. I think you feel like shit already.” 
He was right, but I still recoiled back at the venom he spat at me. I sagged with exhaustion. He was just lashing out the way he always did.
“I didn’t know, JJ.” My voice cracked. “I-I didn’t know. I just did what I thought I was supposed to do.”
JJ’s head snapped up at the waver in my voice. His ocean eyes showed a clear battle, one I knew he’d lose. “S-Sometimes it just felt like I wasn’t good enough.”
His confession broke me. I knew the thoughts that ravaged his brain only because those same thoughts now drown in mine.  
My fingers twisted the hem of the shirt that my body was swimming in, a nervous tic I never got rid of. “But I never said that to you, you listened to everyone but me. You were more than enough.”
A tortured look passed his face, like the obvious miscommunication had disrupted everything. “I thought I was being paraded around to prove a point.”
I roughly wiped the tears that kept falling, “It’s okay to not want to struggle for everything in your life, JJ. You were exhausted and I just wanted to help you.”
“I didn’t know. I-just didn’t know.” I continued to repeat.  And I didn't. I had no experience with love. I wanted him to have the world since he was born with less than most people I knew, yet he deserved so much more.
“You let your friends help you, I don’t understand how I was any different.”
His blonde hair was sticking up in multiple directions, a clear sign of his obvious distress. "Because they’re my family."
Irremediable sorrow burrowed in my chest. "But, I was your family too."
I felt layers of grief his me in waves, quick and hard, one after the other as I came to terms with the fact that JJ never considered me any part of his family.
"You were the only family I ever had. I thought I was your family.” I sniffled, my ribs began to ache from the constant crying. 
A loud crack had me jump back as Rafe bursted into the room, chest heaving from exertion. He paused, his eyes locking in on the messed up sheets before dragging over to me and scanning my disheveled appearance. 
I thought we hit a milestone. JJ finally started talking and letting me know exactly what was going on in that brain of his. And maybe, that would be enough for me, for now. This all happened because JJ didn’t know how to communicate and I knew that wasn’t his fault, but at one point he needed to grow up. 
I was willing to hold his hand while he did it. But I watched as JJ’s eyes clocked the necklace Rafe wore with my initials. His gaze narrowed at the purse in his hand and my car keys in the other. 
The jealousy was evident in the way he rolled his shoulders back, his face granite. “Cute necklace.”
Rafe smirked, tilting his head to the side. “Thanks. It looks even better swinging in her face.”
JJ’s cool demeanor dropped, his blue eyes darkened into a brewing storm. “Enjoy my seconds, bro.” He clapped Rafe on the chest. 
My heart popped in my chest at his words, another bandage would do little to fix the shards that once resembled a heart. And, I knew then, that JJ confirmed the conclusion I just came to myself. 
“JJ?”
“What?”
“You were right. I do deserve better than you.” 
Loving him cost me something much greater: myself. 
I couldn’t continue to hide myself in any man that told me pretty words. I was no longer my own person, just a mere extension of them. One that they treated poorly and only took out when they were bored. I was always willing to do what they would never do for me.
I was just a girl, in love with an extraordinary boy who couldn’t see past all the things he was not.
I walked over to where Rafe was, forcing myself to remember his cruel words also. It was the only way I could get myself to walk out of here. My eyes lingered on the necklace for a second before I pulled my keys from his grasp and grabbed my purse. 
I wore nothing but JJ’s shirt, but at the moment I couldn’t care less. I left my clothes in Rafe’s bathroom, deciding it was better to leave them then spend another second in either of their soul sucking presence. I could always buy another dress. 
I couldn’t buy another me. Not if I kept letting these boys break me. 
This time, I was the one that never looked back.
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Side note: I WROTE THIS THREE TIMES so pls pls pls be nice to me. I tried to incorporate a lot of people's ideas. I know the OC is very wishy washy but she's so real for that.
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keisobe · 1 year
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: 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 — (𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 + 𝐥𝐨’𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲)
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— from avatar 2 : way of the water (spoiler free!!)
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contents. gn! reader, reader is a omoticayan on the shorter side, full on fluff, flirting + teasing, just teenagers in love, implied size difference, hints of mutual pining, mild profanity, reader is around 7ft + wc. 1.3k
notes. i got this idea from that one scene with tsireya and lo’ak then noticed how humongous na’vi hands are and the cogwheels started turning in my head. i had to look up their heights and do a comparison chart to make it accurate lolol. so i hope you guys enjoy this one ^^
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NETEYAM・✶ 。゚
he was visibly confused when you asked to compare hand sizes, eyes flicking back and forth between his hands to yours. when it came to neteyam, he was a little more cautious, especially growing up around three troublesome siblings. there always has to be a catch when it comes to silly requests like these.
but after a few moments of awkward silence, he ends up obediently holding up his hand to you, earning a pleased smile from you.
“are you playing tricks on me right now?” neteyam had to make sure in case the situation calls for any medical attention. kiri and his grandmother weren’t that far off from you guys.
“no i’m not, swear,” you laughed, raising your own hand towards him.
the air felt weirdly tense as he felt your soft palms brush against his, a strange warmth enveloping inside his chest. for all the times you guys have physically touched each other, whether it be to tend each other’s wounds or when he mindlessly latched onto your waist whenever he feels like there’s a threat approaching, he has never felt that intimate towards your touches.
neteyam watched the pads of your fingers drag itself into the calluses of his palm, it made him slightly jolt from the ticklish sensation and you couldn’t help but quietly giggle at his reaction. he gave you a playful glare that silenced you, but there was still a smile on your face. finally, you laid your hand flat over his— mirroring his outstretched fingers. neteyam realized how much your hands were completely different from his.
he noticed how your fingers were a lot shorter compared to his. if he could close his hands into a fist right now, your hand would be completely engulfed by his slim fingers. this shouldn’t be a surprise to him, you were a lot more shorter than him by a whole foot— always having to crane your neck whenever the two of you talked or when he always teases you for being short. but somehow, neteyam felt like he just learned the secret to pandora. it made him melt inside a bit.
he couldn’t help but think your hands are adorable.
“you have baby hands,” neteyam teases, his fangs flashing in his smirk. “tiny and soft.”
there was blush that appeared on your cheeks, your eyebrows crinkled at his teasing, “they're not that small!” 
your mind couldn’t quite register the fact he also called your hands soft. it made you feel even more flustered.
his long fingers smoothly wrapped around your entire hand, restraining your hand completely. you tried to wiggle your fingers out of his firm grasp, but there was no use. you nodded in a defeated agreement, he was right— your hands are completely tiny. but with someone like neteyam, he needed to hear it from you verbally.
“say it,” neteyam can be such an ass sometimes. 
you rolled your eyes, tongue suddenly feeling heavy with denial. but you knew neteyam wouldn’t let go of your hand until you admitted it. childishly, you stomped your feet a couple of times before you spoke again.
“i have baby hands,” your voice slurred with anger.
neteyam smiled in satisfaction and slowly released your hand. you quickly snatched away and petted the delicate skin of your hand— comforting it after being restrained by his rough touch.
after that, neteyam would always hold onto your hand whenever you went anywhere together. it could be when you guys hunted in the depths of the forest or just out of comfort, but there was always one sly comment about the softness of your skin or how tiny your hands are. your hands are so cute, he would whisper teasing remarks until your ears grew red. the other sully’s caught on and started to tease you as well. now you have to deal with even more relentless teasing whenever you come to visit them. as a result, your new nickname became “baby hands.”
although he could tease you about your small hands, you could always get him back for liking them.
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LO’AK ・✶ 。゚
he quietly watched you mindlessly trace circles on his blue palms, his other hand supporting his leaning form. you guys had ventured out into the lush forest, resting in a secluded area that you found together that one night lo’ak ran off to train by himself. lo’ak always had a swell of adoration towards you, there was no denying that.
whenever he got injured from flying his banshee too close to the floating mountains, he would come straight to you. sometimes he would even fake his own injuries, repeatedly slamming himself into a random tree— brash and completely mindless. at the end he would be groaning on the ground and clutching himself in pain. witnessing his weak form nearly gave you a heart attack, you quickly aided him back to health after that.
one thing he noticed from each interaction was how soft your hands were. they felt feathery to the touch, it was like you didn’t even touch him at all. the brush of your fingertips could put him under a permanent trance. kiri was always so rough with him when it came to healing, pressing so hard on him that it could add more bruises to his already-beaten body. but lo’ak came to the conclusion that kiri was purposely bad at healing him. lo’ak wasn’t really surprised.
“lo’ak, i need you to answer me honestly,” your gentle voice sent him back to reality, he had to blink a few times to focus on you again. 
you still traced your fingertips on his palm, but this time he felt you drawing little hearts and some words he couldn’t form together— maybe he could figure out what it means later.
he nodded at you.
“are you purposely hurting yourself?” 
oh shit he was caught.
lo’ak fidgeted a bit but didn’t dare to move, not wanting to disrupt your comforting traces on his palm. he knew that he shouldn’t lie to you, it would only make you worry even more. so lo’ak inhaled a deep breath and looked into your eyes.
“yes i have,” lo’ak sighed when he remembered how he would beat wooden sticks onto his calves and shoulders. “i just…wanted to be closer with you.”
your eyes flicked in worry as you stopped tracing his palm, instead you held his hand tightly, “you should’ve just asked lo’ak, you didn’t have to hurt yourself.”
lo’ak looked away in guilt, the images of your eyes prickling with tears and the worried cries from his own mother filled his thoughts. once again, lo’ak felt like a burden to the people he loved.
the chirps of the wild animals and the rustle of leaves played in the background, your sad gaze slowly moved onto his fourth finger— something lo’ak felt slightly insecure about. he was about to pull his hand away out of embarrassment but your three fingers slowly latched around his pinkie, they wrapped perfectly around it.
so small, he thought.
lo’ak stuttered a bit, none of his words could form cohesively. his heart was pumping faster at the foreign contact, but he tried to keep it cool.
“you better ‘pinkie’ promise me this lo’ak,” your voice was stern and powerful. “that you’ll never hurt yourself again.”
“i promise,” lo’ak gave you a reassuring smile, earning a relieved grin from you.
you guys both stood together, silently agreeing that it was time to retire for the night. your smaller hand was still latched onto his pinkie, the softness of your fingertips sent blood rushing to his face. there was also something that he really wanted to ask you.
“how do you know what a ‘pinkie’ is?” he wiggled his pinkie in your grasp, he saw you look away for a moment until you sighed softly.
“i asked your dad what it was,” you looked at your own hands, wiggling your three fingers in the humid air to avoid his gaze. “i was just curious.”
lo’ak couldn’t help but laugh out loud at your cuteness. he leans in closer to give you a heavy kiss on the cheek— rendering you completely flustered. he’s going to be teasing you for a while.
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© 2022 keisobe – please do not copy any of my writing and repost or translate to other sites.
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rayaswrittings · 5 months
Text
Face toward the sunset
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Summary: You and your boyfriend had just gotten back from his celebration, drunk and tired—but one thing you knew about Colby, was that he could never keep his hands off you when he was intoxicated.
Warning(s): Drunk!Colby, Mature language, Degradation, switch!dom!Colby, F!ngering, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, male!recieving, bruising and marking, the whole nine really.
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It felt like you had been carrying thousand pound rocks on your back as you carried your drunken boyfriend through the house. You couldn’t see much and you were only trying to get back to your shared room. Colby was heavy on his feet due to his drowsiness and of course was much more heavy then you.
Colby always got drunk but never blacked out, although Tonight was the celebration for his and Sam’s youtube anniversary and he only let loose this one time. You had a few drinks yourself but you knew he’d end up like this so you paced yourself while he downed drinks like they were plain water.
You had just barely made it once you reached the entrance to your living room and practically pushed Colby onto your couch with a huff. He was laughing but you of course were not, being as you just carried him across the lawn. You made your way over to where you kept the food you had stored and pulled a few things out of the pantry, things that would make him some what full to hopefully sober him up a little.
You of course, wanted to go to sleep but Colby was never that easy when he was drunk. He’s far too touchy for you to even close your eyes without him doing something to wake you up. You poured juice into a small cup and set it on the end table, along with the fruits you were cutting for him to eat, but like always, that wouldn’t last long.
His giant arms snaked around your small frame from behind you and his warm body pressed up against yours, you could already feel the growing erection under his leather pants. He didn’t say anything, only leaning his head down to place sweet kisses to your neck as you continued to cut fruit.
“Go sit down, baby. I’m making you some food” Your free hand reaches back to touch his head but he only hums in response, continuing his movements from before. “Colby, please just eat this for me?” You turn to him once your finished and he’s already looking at you with those half lidded eyes, making your stomach explode with butterflies like you hadn’t seen it before. “Please?”
A smirk pulls at his lips as he walks toward you, pulling your body against his and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His touch was hungry against your skin, fingertips hard against your waist to hold you steady. You gave into him for a small second before pulling away, placing your finger over his lips.
“Eat this and you can get all the kisses you want, Okay?” He huffs but takes the plate from you, sitting down on the chair you had just added to your home. You walk over to where you put your basket of clothes by your laundry room, opening it to pull out a new top to fall asleep in since the one you had on was barely a shirt and quite uncomfortable.
You unclip the straps of the top you had on and let it fall to the ground, working to strap on the new and looser one you pulled out from the basket. After changing your top, you looked for a pair of shorts to slip into that also was loose, your tired eyes becoming far too lidded to think about anything other then sleep.
Just before you could slip into a new pair, the hungry hands your boyfriend possessed pulled you back, turning your body to face him all in under a second. You gasped at the sudden movement, realizing he had pulled you onto his lap while he sat in the chair. “Colbs, I barely have clothes o-“ Once again, he cut you off with a passionate kiss to your lips, wrapping his hand gently around your throat.
Of course you gave in under his grasp like you always did, his lips tasted of the fruit you had given him before and it only drew you more in then you had been already.
But as soon as you felt his tongue slip past your lips, you quickly pulled away.
“Not tonight, colb. Your drunk” You try to reason but he isn’t listening. The two of you had already talked about things like this and while you knew sober him wouldn’t care if you had sex, you still didn’t know if you were completely sure about that. “Let’s just go to sleep-“
“You said as many kisses as I want, didn’t you?” He raises an eyebrow while mocking your words, reaching up to stroke your hair with his gentle fingertips. “Looked so beautiful tonight, can’t believe your all mine” His strong arms pull you close to him so his face stuffed between the crook of your neck, taking in your sweet smell through his nose.
Your cheeks grow hot as you watch his face nuzzling against your body like a cat would do to its owner. You giggled at his movements but he didn’t care, only continuing his actions from before. Your hands combed his messy hair with care, twisting it around your fingers as you hug his head close to you. Colby was always touchy when he was drunk. He needed to be under your skin, only able to smell your scent as he slept.
“Colby!” Your body jolts at the sudden sensation between your legs, his hand that was once laid on your back, was pressed against your cunt. “Colbs, I don’t need-“ His lips are practically attacking your neck with the most passionate and wet kisses you could imagine, a sigh leaving your mouth as you felt the pleasure fill areas you shouldn’t have. When Colby was drunk, he gets extremely horny and practically will eat you alive if you don’t give yourself to him. For some reason your boyfriends hormones are much worse when he’s intoxicated.
He didn’t even need you to please him, he only ever wanted to please you. It was weird because you’d think it was the other way around but not with him. His thumb was pressing against your clit with care, rubbing circles to it while his tongue glides against your skin. His lips brush your ear softly before taking its lobe between his teeth, gently pulling it with a chuckle. “So easy, My love” Your ears flick at his hot breath against you, watching as he pulled his fingers back up between your faces to show you the mess you left covering them.
You watch as he slips his fingers into his mouth one at a time, cleaning them from your sweet slick. His free arm snakes around your waist swiftly, and his face leans up to meet your own in a sweet kiss, leaning his large body against your own to guide you to lay on your back to which you quickly oblige.
“Good girl” He praises with a smirk, trailing kisses down your neck till he got to your bra. “Let’s get this out of the way, yeah?” You hum, pushing his hair out of his face as he unclips the piece of clothing, eyes gluing to your chest. “You are so breathtakingly beautiful, baby. So beautiful” A small laugh leaves your mouth as your cheeks flush at his repeated and slurred soft words and a moan coaxes your throat as he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other one between his fingers.
When you and Colby first started dating, you were so insecure about your body for months but now? You didn’t have time to be insecure because he quite literally worshiped your body. He’d place kisses on every spot you hated, and remind you constantly throughout the days how beautiful you looked, especially when you woke up in the morning. He made sure to remind you hourly.
“Always getting what you want, huh?” You huff as he pulls away from your chest with a chuckle, and moving down your bare body. His big hands cup under your thighs and push your legs apart, bending your knees back so your heels were laying against his shoulders. His eyes were strained to yours as his thumb circled your clit, watching your face twist in pleasure. It was a guilty pleasure of yours, honestly. Colby went down on you almost everytime you had been stressed or angry, and you love every second his mouth is attached to your forbidden area. He knew your body inside and out, and it was practically impossible for him to contain himself.
A small but quiet gasp catches in your throat abruptly and you let your head quickly fall back, Colby’s eyes still set on you while he sunk his middle finger inside you with ease. “Thought you didn’t need it?” He teases but your too in awe to care, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Stop being a tease, Colby” you tell him seriously, a smirk pulling at his lips once his name left your mouth. His face lowered toward your center, curling his finger against the soft walls of your insides as the tip of his tongue touched your clit gently. “Come on, Colbs” Your hand is already on its way to his head before you could realize, and you let your fingers roam his soft hair.
He didn’t know if it was just the alcohol or something but you looked so pretty in this light. Of course you always did, but something about tonight was different. You were impatient and whining like a brat but he loved it, he loved making you suffer knowing he was going to make up for it by the end of the night with you under him, begging for more of him.
You let out a semi loud moan once his lips closed around your clit, another one of his fingers slipping into you unannounced. “Fuck” Random curse words were leaving your mouth just to help silence your horribly loud moans, holding your boyfriend’s head close to your body as he devoured every last bit of you. To say you were in love with him was an understatement.
His long fingers were just enough to brush your cervix and Colby always took advantage of that, gently pushing you over the edge till you had been trembling under him. He sucked harshly against your clit as your heels dug against his shoulders, choked out moans escaping past your lips.
Your sweet sounds were music to his ears and he couldn’t help but grind himself against the couch under him, his free hand palming his still growing erection. Your hips wind against his face without your control but he doesn’t mind it, it only made him harder watching you struggle the way you were.
“Baby… Colby please” You beg, almost screaming if he didn’t get you there soon. He never stopped the degrading movement he had against your cunt, letting you do the rest in connecting the two of you.
Your pleasure fills his own body hot and fast, and Colby found himself palming himself harder then before, speeding up his movements against you. He wanted to take his time but you both knew drunken sex was a fast experience out of pure lust, you wouldn’t even know you were done till you laid atop his chest at the end of the night.
“Colby…!” His name rolls off your tongue with ease since you don’t hold back, fingers clasping around his hair as your back pushed off the couch, crying out to your overstimulated clit while you continued to release against him. Colby was flush against you, not pulling away until he was sure he had enough of your sweet taste.
Finally, he lifts his head and pulls his fingers from you, watching as your release drip down them with a chuckle. “Your bad, baby” Your able to see his full face now and you can’t help but giggle, watching closely as he hovered back over you.
“you look good with a beard” You tease, wiping off the remaining release on his chin and around his mouth. You lean up to his lips, brushing them against your own. You could feel his heart beating out of his chest as you move to his ear, letting your hand travel down between the two of you. His eyes widened once your hand wrapped around his painfully hard cock, practically holding back a whimper that threatened in the back of his throat. “Aw, baby… your practically suffering” You could feel the small beads of pre that left his tip urgently, placing soft kisses against his jaw. “However you want it, Mr. Brock”
His eyebrows raise at that name and he almost instantly pulls your face in front of his own, capturing your soft lips in a rough and wet kiss. Your free hand untied his pants before traveling up his back, leaving light scratches against his pale skin. “Want you to ride me” He confesses against your lips and you couldn’t help but smirk, pushing against his stomach gently.
“The balcony” you mumble and his eyes fill with complete love as he lifts you up in his arms, carrying you out of your house and to the big ledge that was connected to your room. You even had a whole bed out there for when the two of you fell asleep watching the sunset. Plus, who wouldn’t want to make love while watching the sunset? Thank god your house was in the darker part, away from everyone else’s.
You watch as Colby sits on the bed you had out there and your eyes catch a glimpse of the beautiful contrasted sunset, a smile appearing on your lips. Colby’s eyes were burning holes against your body, mesmerized in how perfectly your shape shadowed from the sun in front of you. It captured every curve, every freckle that was slowly becoming more visible against your skin, he could fall in love with you time and time again if he kept looking at you like this.
Your attention is fully turned to your boyfriends body, eyes taking in the beautiful man in front of you. His legs were slightly open and his cock sat pretty against his stomach, the sun capturing the shapes of his abs perfectly. His arms laid calm next to his body but you could tell he was getting impatient, shifting every so often which made you giggle under your breath.
You let your knees softly hit the ground before crawling towards him, running your fingernails gently across his thighs till you were sitting right in front of his erection. It was clear he wanted to jump straight into sex and as much as you did too, you wanted to take care of him first, even the playing field a little bit.
“Your evil” His head is spinning from his drunken state and he’s becoming desperate as your grab hold of his length, stroking it ever so slowly with your eyes examining its every vein and shade of white. A lot of woman wouldn’t be so obsessed with this part of their men but not you. Colby’s body was your fortress, one only you could open and make your own.
“Such a pretty cock, baby” The words are hushed into a whisper but his ears fall back and so does his head, butterflies filling his stomach. He wasn’t the only one with a praise kink. His tip was a shade lighter then the rest of his length but wasn’t light, and the width it portrayed made it hard for you to close your small hand around it. “Just hold on a little longer, handsome. Gonna make you feel so good”
His eyes squeeze shut once he feels your tongue glide against his tip, collecting the pre that was still escaping from him. Your tongue is exploring every inch on his length in under a minute, and you can clearly see he was barely holding on above you. His moans were hoarse and grunted, trying his hardest to conceal himself since you had been basically outside.
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m gonna come if you don’t—shit!” His body jerks and your eyes meet his, watching his reaction as his balls meet your palm, his cock still buried deep in your mouth like you had something to prove. You knew he wasn’t going to last and that’s exactly what you wanted, you wanted him to feel what you did. “You know I won’t beg you, Y/N but-“
His words only make you speed up your movements, chasing after his high. You could feel him pulsing in your mouth, and his hand reached down to hold the side of your head, more of in a comforting way then pushing you down. He was far too drunk to even argue with you, he just wanted to be inside you now.
And soon enough, he came undone with the loudest whimpers you had ever heard him let out, painting your tongue with the hot spurts of his release. His chest heaved horribly as you pulled away from his length with a pop, his eyes retracing back to your own watching you swallow its remains.
His cock was still painfully hard but you didn’t waste any time on that, moving up on the bed so you’d hover over him, allowing him to capture your lips against his. “Such a perfect little slut for me” He hums, noticing a small bit of his release was still on your cheek. He wipes it with his thumb, sinking it past your lips with a chuckle.
Colby’s large hands slowly slip over your bare hips, waiting for you to sink down on him. His head was between your neck now, attacking it with wet hickeys you knew would leave a mark the next day, a moan slipping from your mouth as his fingers tighten around your skin.
“Come on, pretty girl. I’ve got you” He reassures, taking one side of your butt in his hand, squeezing the pillowed skin as your hands find his shoulders for balance, his tip pressing against your very wet slit. You hold his head against you, letting out a shaky breath as you sunk down on him with ease, that familiar full feeling you were so fond of. Your boyfriend hums in approval and in full pleasure, messaging your skin gently till your body met his and you were fully sat on his lap.
His tip was already brushed against your cervix without even moving, and your walls couldn’t help but clamp over him every other minute. “Oh my god, Colby” you pull his hair back as you lift your hips with the help of his hands, watching his eyes fall onto your own.
“That’s it, just like that” Your bodies become so close once you start, faces barely even an inch apart but you didn’t kiss, you wanted him to watch you. He reached undeniable heights inside you, bruising up your skin just to help you move your hips. “My good girl—fuck, you do it so good”
Soon your movements sped up quickly, and holding onto his shoulders didn’t help at all, you had to place both hands on the wall behind him just to gain stability. Your boyfriend watches you in awe, as if it was his first time seeing you this way. Your hips grind against him the way he loved while your head fell back into the air, the both of you becoming slightly sweaty already.
Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.
“Gonna come, Pretty girl?” As if your whimper wasn’t enough to confirm his question, the way your hips moved way faster against his with your walls effortlessly clenching around him was definitely enough. Your body was calling for release and he could see that, coaching you through it with the simplest of words.
His hand leaves your hip and attaches itself around your neck, pulling you down to his face so your lips would crash into each others. His tongue instantly slipped into your mouth through your moans, holding your hips down so he could hit your deepest areas. Your high was approaching fast and he could feel it corrupting you, sitting up with you in his arms so you were literally sitting in his lap.
Your arms wrap around his neck and you can’t help but pull away from your boyfriend, throwing your head back as you rode him faster then before, nails digging against the skin on his chest. “Colb- fuck!” Your whimpers and moans are only motivating him more, the friction between the two of you was almost unbearable.
His large hand cups the side of your face and all that can be heard is the sound of skin slapping against another, your moans echoing the forest like a mockingjay’s song. “Come for me, dirty girl. Talk to me, Baby” His voice is husky against your ear and it makes your body completely feral, leaning your sweaty forehead against your boyfriends when you feel the pit grow in your stomach.
“Oh, Colbs” You moan breathlessly against his face, pushing his hair away from his eyes to look at him. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I-“ He ceases your rambling with a sweet kiss to your lips, reaching down to rub your clit between the two of your bodies.
“I love you far more, My good girl” He hums against you and watches as your eyes roll back, you were so close—just barely tipped over the edge. “Now come for me so I can turn you over and fuck you like you’ve been wanting for the past week” With only a few last circles against your clit and strokes to your dripping cunt, you came undone harshly against his body, gripping onto his shoulders as you let out the most beautiful cries he’d ever heard.
Your body shutters against his and all that could be heard now was the breathing between you two, his hands reaching up to caress your face gently. “Fucking hell, what alcohol did we drink” He chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose.
Both of your eyes traveled down between the two of you, noticing the puddle of liquid you had left on your boyfriend’s abdomen. You always got so embarrassed but he found it so attractive, he wanted you to give him that validation.
“Hands and knees, Face toward the sunset” You slowly remove yourself from your boyfriend, turning your semi-weak body toward the orange sunset, doing exactly as he requested. You had no idea how you were so worn out but the feeling of his hands against your back were enough to bring you back to reality. “That’s it. M’gonna sort you out baby, don’t worry” His voice is low behind you as he pushes his length against your slick, coating it in more of you.
“Your teasing…” you push back against him eagerly, earning a small chuckle from his lips as he leaned down, hovering his body over your own. His hands lingered over your body as he placed soft kisses along your shoulder before moving to your ear, taking it between his teeth. His body was so warm against yours and you could feel yourself getting hot all over again, leaning into his touch.
“If you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?” He questions cockily in your ear and you roll your eyes, pushing your arms out in front of you so your back was fully arched for him. The boy chuckled, pulling your hair away from your now fully exposed neck so he could access it, his free hand reaching down to line himself up with your slit. “Keep doing that, and you’ll wake up pregnant” You hum against the bed with a smile, Oh how much you wanted that.
“What if i wanted that?” His large hand clamps over your mouth as he continued to place kisses along your body, ignoring what you had just said. You were both drunk but he was sober enough to know this was just your alcohol talking.
“Ask me when your sober, My love” Some of his words are slurred but he speaks all the truth, removing his hand from your mouth and to your neck, tilting your head till he could kiss your lips.
Your breath is taken from you when you feel him slip into you all at once, and you quickly pull away from him with a gasp and your fingers squeezing the cloth under you. “Your so… fuck—your annoying!” He chuckles, reaching down to pull your hips closer to his own, already stroking you at a steady pace.
Your body moves with every slow and passionate thrust, and a soft moan comes out with it. Colby is loving above you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear with that husked accent of his. “I’ve been thinking about this all. Fucking. Week” His breath his hot against your neck as he speaks, you could feel the sweat between you two and the heat you both shared against your connected bodies.
Usually, the two of you would have a date night on Tuesday’s every week but this week was so hectic you didn’t have any time to do so. You and Colby would spend the night just holding each other, loving each other. Without date night, you two didn’t have any time to yourselves other then when you’d go to bed.
“Then why are you going easy on me? You know I love it when your rough” You know your words will tease him in a way he’d give in and that’s exactly why you said it. Usually the two of you would make love during sex, but you were so tired of that now. You wanted him to treat you like you were some random girl—a slut. “Lost your touch, pretty boy?”
“Lost my touch? What are you saying, Y/N” You could tell his words were with content and not worry, and you knew now that you had him right where you wanted him. “Are you saying I can’t fulfill your needs?” You giggle and push yourself into him even more, earning a small groan from his lips. “Dirty girl, you are playing a dangerous game”
“You know what I want, Colbs. So give it to me” His hand is clasp around your neck, tilting your head back till you could look at him with those big doe eyes you loved to tease him with. “That’s all you want, right? To please me?” Your eyelashes bat at him without your control, watching as his eyes slowly turned into voids. You had him now.
He didn’t even have to speak, only staring into your eyes as he pulled out of you, pushing back in with force and intent. Your eyes roll back and your body jerks up with every thrust he sends you, ten times harder them before. Your hands reach back to hold onto him but it only pisses him off, grabbing your wrists to cling together in front of you. His body was practically inside your own, laying on top of you while pinning your hands.
Your moans were much, much louder now and you couldn’t control them. He was hitting every little area in your body, one’s you didn’t even know you had. His cock wasn’t just kissing your sweet spot, it felt like it was the easiest spot for him to access and everytime he’d hit it, your body would shake under his. “This is what you wanted, right? Me to fuck you like your some whore? Ha. Can’t believe you said I lost my touch” He chuckled in your ear, biting the soft skin of your shoulder. You were begging now, so fucking desperate for him.
“Yes! Fuck, this is what I wanted. Wanted you to fuck me how you used to!” How he used to? Great mother you should’ve never said that.
“How I used to?” Of course your words make him rethink and come back ten times harder, lifting his torso from you to pull your hands behind your back, earning the loudest whimper from you. “That’s okay, my love. I’ll give everything to you now, and don’t even think about coming till I say so” there he was, your teenage fever.
It looked inhumane the way he was treating your body. From the way his hips snapped into yours, to how he held your hands right behind your back, and how he pushed your face into the bed to muffle your very loud moans. But it all felt way too good, this is exactly what you wanted and you knew he was the only man who could fulfill it. You never wanted him to stop.
“Right there! Right fucking—oh my god” You were so close to your edge it was torture. You were practically begging him to let you come before you had to, you knew you couldn’t hold it much longer. “Colby, I can’t… I’m— fuck!”
“You better hold it” He threatens, pushing your arch deeper. You let out a cry and his boyfriend reaction was more then enough to slow down, reaching down to your neck to pull you up against his body. Your head fell lazily against his chest but your reassuring eyes told him everything he needed to know. “Safe word, pretty girl?” You shook your head and grabbed his, pulling his face against yours in a rough kiss. He wasn’t hurting you, he could never hurt you.
“I need it, Colbs. Please just give it to me” From the second his teeth sunk into the delicate skin of your neck, to when he started to send slow strokes to your body, you felt yourself lose control and the only thing keeping you up was his hand wrapped around your stomach. You couldn’t take it, the pleasure was far too much.
He can feel your undeniable orgasm approaching and so was his, and at this point he couldn’t hold back anymore. His teeth remove from your skin, tongue swiping over any blood that escaped from your neck with his heavy breath beside you. “Look at you, taking my cock so well. Fuck, m’gonna come… want you to come with me. Can you do that for me?” You nod desperately, moving your hips against his to meet his rough strokes. “Touch yourself”
Your limp body is heavy in his arms as you reach down, rubbing circles against your clit at the same speed of his thrusts. Your moans and begs only grew louder, and Colby was on his very edge. “Doing so good for me—Come, pretty girl. I’m right behind you!” His coaching words make you cry aloud, holding onto his body for support as you felt your orgasm slowly tipping over its end, rubbing your clit. faster to chase that high. “Just one more, baby. Need you to come so I can fill this pretty cunt nice and full just like you wanted”
“Colb—fuck, fuck fuck! I’m… Mmph! I’m coming!” He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.
All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of birds chirping in the air, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You were so tired.
Colby turned to look at you, smirk pulling at his lips at the sight of all the marks and bruises he had put on your body—ones you enjoyed having to cover because he gave them.
“Watch the sunset with me?” Your eyebrows raise slightly and his face softens, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Ending the night like this was perfect. It was almost as if you had just gotten back from date night. He leans down gently to place his lips against your own, relishing in the taste of your sweet lips.
He lays back and places one of his arms above his forehead while opening his other for you, watching you with a smile as you cuddle your naked body over his. Your head is nuzzled between his neck and your legs are shuffled with his own, the light of the sunset reflecting off your skin. Colby grabbed the blanket from behind you and pulled it over you both, laying his large arm over you once you were comfortable.
“I’m still so fucking drunk” He sighs making you laugh while you drew imaginary shapes along his chest, leaning your head up to kiss his jaw. “We can sleep now” You roll your eyes with another laugh, imagining what it would’ve been like had you actually went to sleep when you told him to earlier.
“I love you, Pretty boy” You hum, hugging his torso. He looks down at your already relaxed body, leaning his face down to kiss your head.
“I love you way more, My beautiful girl”
1K notes · View notes
fatuismooches · 5 months
Note
Could you please write about the Harbingers spending time with the reader on their birthdays? But maybe they send what they did with you as a letter to the Traveler like the in-game feature? :D
♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
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synopsis: The Traveler naturally expects mail in their inbox whenever the Harbingers' birthdays roll around. However, they didn't expect it to be so... lovey-dovey, and all about you.
includes: all harbingers w/ gn! reader
notes: I've finally finished it! I've been wanting to write something similar to my voice line post for a while, so here it is - the Harbingers sending birthday mail, except they're very down bad for you :3 Includes a letter, a photograph, and attached items with the letter! (Sorry to the Pulcinella fans, I was too lazy to write him in.)
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“Home…”
Sender: Pierro
It is my birthday today. Normally, I would have continued on my day as usual, but [Name] had another idea in mind, going so far as to get the Tsaritsa herself to block the door to my office and then dragging me away. It seems they were planning this for a while… The last birthday I celebrated was the year Khaenri’ah fell. What purpose did today serve when my homeland and people were gone? As the years went on, it began to slip my mind and I nearly would have forgotten the date, were it not for [Name]’s question a while ago. I thought nothing of it, but I did not think [Name] would have taken this so seriously.
They knew I would enjoy anything so long as it was with them, yet they had the entire day planned out. Claiming that I needed some fresh air, we walked through the Snezhnayan streets, the normally biting frost a bit warmer than usual. Casual browsing at some new stores that opened up. [Name]’s attempt at starting a snowball fight. And lastly… grocery shopping.
When we got back, they wouldn’t let me help or look. But I could tell from the smell exactly what they were making. It turns out that they managed to make a dish from my home country. I am not sure how they managed to get a hold of this recipe… I must have mentioned it offhandedly and they improvised from there. Of course, it’s not an exact replica, but nonetheless, it tasted delicious. Just for a few minutes, I was taken back to my previous home. That home will never come back, but I have a new one now.
And now the day is almost over. Despite their best efforts to stay awake until the end of the day, they succumbed to their sleepiness, now lying on my lap. They were supposed to read me something they made, but perhaps I’ll find out what that was tomorrow. 
Tomorrow will be back to normal again. But that is alright. I still do not believe I deserve a day like today but, if this is what [Name] desires, then I shall not refuse them again. I’ll look forward to the next birthday just as they do.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Pierro and you in it. The Harbinger is seated at a table with a homemade dish in front of him. His giant coat and mask are placed off to the side, revealing scars from long ago. You’re glued to his side, trying to feed him by holding the spoon close to his mouth. Pierro is a grown man, the Traveler thinks, he does not need you to feed him… However, he looks quite content with this arrangement so the blonde won’t question it any further. In fact, he looks as if he’s right at home.
Attached Items:
Ancient Khaenri’ahn Dish [A meal unique to Khaneri’ah that has long been forgotten by the world. Although you clearly struggled to make it due to a lack of experience, even the Traveler can taste how much of your love was put into it.]
Khaenri’ahn Story Book [A book that contains numerous fairy tales and various stories originating from the lost nation, written by none other than Pierro himself, and illustrated by you. Apparently, it was born from you begging him to tell you stories from his home, and eventually, the Harbinger began to write them down so you could read them instead of bothering him so often. However, it made the problem worse as now you bother him to read them to you. How sweet.]
“A Day Off.”
Sender: Dottore
[Name] has convinced me to go back to Sumeru with them for a couple of days. I couldn’t care less about this day, but they were adamant about spending the whole day with me, and that they “will not be spending my birthday in a dark gloomy lab again.” 
My research has regrettably halted for a bit, but I suppose this was not a bad idea. This was the first time in many years that either of us had stepped foot back into Sumeru - we had not been back since I was expelled from the Akademiya, besides my segments of course.
[Name] and I trekked the same path we used to walk during our studies at the Akademiya. It was a good spot for studying and conducting experiments without any disturbances - that was until they started following me around. They were a nuisance at first… but eventually, [Name] began to help me deconstruct a variety of machines, which was helpful. And then would laugh at me whenever I ended up breaking them. 
Ever since I met them, [Name] has always said a lot of strange things, but their most recent comment was that they wanted to drink the blue liquid in the vial I carry around. They think it looks… tropical and vibrant. Of course, I refused them. But I had a feeling that if I didn’t provide them with it, they’d try and get it themselves. I was not interested in having to inject an antidote into them, so I came up with a solution.
I know that I am no chef, but this goes outside the realm of cooking. It wasn’t hard to create a sweet drink that would be to [Name]’s liking with the same color. They were more pleased than I thought and demanded that I make it for them more often. I do not care much for nourishment, but perhaps I’ll try my hand at it more often. They have insisted that I send you some, too. So, Traveler, is it to your liking as well? Even if it’s not, I do not care, so don’t bother telling me.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Dottore and you in it. Despite how much the Traveler has explored Sumeru, they can’t seem to pinpoint the location where it was taken. It must really be a secret place, just for the two of you. Dottore’s mask is on his lap, revealing crimson eyes and scarred skin. You seem to have fallen asleep on his shoulder, as your eyes are closed, though your mouth seems to be agape, perhaps mumbling some nonsense in your sleep. Dottore’s expression is exasperated, but there is a certain fondness in his eyes, one that the Traveler can’t distinguish, or rather, they refuse to believe it. Did the Kamera have an editing function now? Because surely, the photograph must have been forged or something, because there was no way The Doctor could ever have such a tender look in his eyes… 
Attached Items:
Strange Blue Concoction [Some kind of legitimate drink that’s the same color as the vial Dottore carries around. According to [Name], it is quite delicious, but would any sane person dare to try anything from The Doctor of all people…? Who knows, these two might be trying to poison the blonde.]
Assortment of Ruin Guard Parts [Parts from Ruin Guards Dottore created and assembled himself. A wide variety of parts are here, including Chaos Cores, Circuits, and Devices. Wait… they seem to all be damaged and broken. Hey, did Dottore just send the Traveler his useless parts?!]
“Care For A Show?” 
Sender: Columbina
Hello dear Traveler! How are you?~ Today has been such a wonderful day. Why, you ask? Because it’s my birthday of course! ♪ The one day when I have the ability to drag my beloved [Name] wherever I want, with no resistance. Normally they protest for quite a bit, telling me I have a mountain of work to do but, they don’t need to worry their pretty little head about that. ♫ Is it that much of a crime to slack off to spend time with one’s beloved? But oh, that little routine of ours is something that I do cherish.
My dearest [Name] took me to a play. We were among the first to see it, as it was the opening day. You know, they always tell me that as a Harbinger, I should be more conscious of how I present myself. But is it really a problem to sit in their lap instead of my chair? It’s not like anyone can see us all the way up on the balcony seats, hmm? ♬ Moving on though~ The play was quite an interesting story. 
It was of an angel who fell in love with a mere human, despite how taboo it was. When the two were caught, the angel had to decide - would she rather retain their purity and remain in the heavens or fall down, stripped of her divinity to be with her human? Well, if you want to see the ending, you’ll just have to come to Snezhnaya and watch it yourself. ♪ But do tell me Traveler, if you were in a situation like that, what would you choose? … I already know what my choice would be.
Ah, but that show was not even the best part! After that, [Name] put on their own performance for me, just the two of us. It was beautiful of course, the way they convey their choice of art is always worthy of praise. But, they always seem to seek my feedback and criticism… they told me they want to keep improving to make me even more pleased but, how many times do I need to explain to them that I already believe their craft is beautiful? Nevertheless, I do indulge them, if only to satisfy my love. Why don’t you take a look at one of our collaborations, Traveler? It is quite good if I do say so myself. ♫
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Columbina and you in it. The lighting in the theater is a bit dim, so your figures are a bit faded but, the Traveler can still make out the two of you. The two of you have separate chairs but, Columbina is practically spilling onto yours, her head comfortably resting against your chest. You seem as though this is normal for you, which it probably is. Wait, is Columbina sleeping? It seems she probably got bored during the intermission… That’s why you specifically chose your clothes to double as a blanket for your wife.
Attached Items:
Music Score [A music score composed by both you and Columbina. The two of you performed it perfectly together as a present to your wife. Of course, it’s bound to be mesmerizing considering Columbina’s participation. So hauntingly beautiful, that in fact, it might end your life before you get to the end… is that an exaggeration? Well, it seems like the Traveler will have to take that risk.]
Pair of Tickets [Tickets gifted to the Traveler and Paimon. There’s no name on it or any expiration date, so it can be used to watch a single play in Snezhnaya for free, with the best seats in-house, so pick carefully. These things are quite expensive, so don’t go losing them now! Otherwise, Columbina and [Name] might ban the traveling duo from the theater…]
“An Excellent Day.”
Sender: Capitano
Today is my birthday. However, I have never been very adept at celebrating this day. I realize that it is the norm to celebrate one’s birthday, but I have never felt the need to. Though, ever since I became a Harbinger, my recruits have always wished me well today. Unfortunately, when the bolder ones ask me what I have planned, I have nothing interesting to respond with, always prompting them to urge me to do something… In the hallways, I always hear conversations along the lines of even though being a Harbinger is busy, I deserve to do something nice on my birthday. But in reality, it does not bother me at all. Is it really that strange not to do anything on one’s birthday?
When [Name] found out how I normally spend my birthdays, they shared a similar sentiment and promised to make this one “the most eventful and fun and best one I’ve ever had.” They said that since this is our first year together, they need to make my birthday an excellent one. Although I tried to reassure them they needn’t try so hard for me, they were insistent. However, true to their word, I would say my birthday did end up being an excellent one.
One thing about [Name] is they never fail to teach me something new. In this case, they taught me what it means to celebrate a birthday, and I’d say I learned a lot. As stated by them, there is no exact or definite way to celebrate. It is what you make of it. And they, knowing the kind of man I was, chose the activities accordingly. (There were a few mishaps but everything went well for the most part. It is not customary to break a few knives while cutting cake, so I feared that I may have ruined things, but [Name] reassured me it was normal.)
So all in all, today was an excellent day. However, I am faced with a problem now. What should I do when [Name]’s birthday comes? Should I do the same thing they did for me? But would they think that is low effort and unoriginal? I do not wish to disappoint them. Traveler, do you have any ideas? Also, please ask Tartaglia for me as well. The last time I spoke to him, he tried to ask me for a duel.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Capitano and you in it. The snowy forest terrain looks as picturesque as ever, but what really draws attention is the man and his lover in the middle. Mostly, the Harbinger who has a squirrel or two perched on him, not to mention the few birds that made their nest in the fluff of his coat. And even some cats? Where did they come from?! Well, it’s best not to question it. It’s rather endearing. Rather, one should question how silent and unmoving the Captain is in an effort to not disturb all the animals. Just ignore the deer in the background waiting for some attention too.
Attached Items:
How To Celebrate Your Birthday Pamphlet [A collaboration between Capitano’s Fan Club and [Name]. The fan club loves you immensely because you help to put their long-awaited plans into action. The numerous activities in this guide (blowing out the candles, feeding each other cake, gift giving, lots of affection, etc) were written out by the club and dutifully carried out by you. There were also birthday punches, but Capitano was confused as to why you were tickling him.]
Capitano and [Name]’s Picture Book [Don’t tell anyone this, but Capitano has a tendency to name all the creatures of the forest near his mansion. At first, he went there to train, but decided against it after seeing all the animals around there, because he doesn’t want to scare them away. What he did not expect was to befriend all of them… you came across him one day talking to them after searching for him. How can he tell them apart? Even you don’t know. But this book is dedicated to all of his animal friends, with pictures taken by you of course. So if the Traveler happens to visit Snezhnaya someday, make sure to be nice to these little guys!]
“They’re Annoying…”
Sender: Wanderer
It is that time of year again when my birthday rolls around. You know very well I do not care much for this day, but once again, there are always annoyances at my every turn… Both Lesser Lord Kusanali and [Name] always prove to be a thorn in my side on this day. In the past, I usually spent my birthdays under the sakura trees in Inazuma, visiting [Name]. But, things have changed now. I no longer am who I once was, and my relationship with [Name] is no longer the same. They have forgotten me, and our past together… but Lesser Lord Kusanali has forced us to interact again numerous times, leading to our current relationship. Lesser Lord Kusanali always pats my back, saying that time will lead us back to each other… how irritating. 
Speaking of her being irritating, she decided to tell [Name] that today was my birthday, a horrible decision. Now, they’ve run all over Sumeru looking for me, until they finally found me in the House of Daena. Panting and gasping for air, all I could hear was them sincerely apologizing over and over for not knowing my birthday. They promised they’d get me a late birthday gift, even though I kept repeating that it was unnecessary. Unfortunately, it has always been hard to get things through their thick skull. All I know for sure is that Lesser Lord Kusanali definitely planned this and that she will tease me to no end the next time I see her… 
Still, they dragged me through Sumeru City. According to them, they knew I wouldn’t like anything too fancy, so they brought me to an alleyway. Your typical textbook dark and narrow one. And at the end were… cats. Many of them. [Name] turned to me with a smile and said they bet I didn’t know about this secret kitty haven, and that it was a perfect gift for someone like me. I do wonder if Sumeru’s sun has made them crazy sometimes.
But, this birthday wasn’t as boring as I thought it’d be. So… that’s nice, I guess. Actually, Lesser Lord Kusanali had assigned me a paper to write. A paper on [Name], on my own birthday. She said that she wasn’t going to read or check it, but it was for my sake. How preposterous, right? How would anything like that help me?
But tonight… I feel as though I’ll make some progress on it.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Wanderer and you in it. The puppet is at the top of the ladder in the House of Daena, searching for books (most likely forced to by the Dendro Archon), but your figure can be made out at the bottom. You seem to be waving and beckoning him to come down, so he can have a good time with you for his birthday. Wanderer doesn’t seem very excited about it, but… he will always indulge you, the person he can’t deny he loves. Hmm? Why is he using a ladder instead of his Anemo powers? Well, perhaps the puppet doesn’t like drawing attention to himself.
Attached Items:
Essay Concerning Inazuman Society and Politics [An essay Wanderer has written during his time spent in Vahumana. What, did the Traveler really think he’d send the essay he wrote about [Name]? However, Paimon couldn’t make it through the title page, and even the Traveler struggled through it. But, it seems to be your favorite essay of his, considering all the notes you made in it, not to mention the noodles you drew when you got bored… Wanderer probably scolded you for that but, it’s never in bad faith.]
Tricolor Dango [A plate of dango that [Name] brought for Wanderer as a treat. It seems that they are unaware of his dislike of sweet food… But the puppet did not want to hurt their feelings considering the thought and effort they put into his birthday, so he did not decline it.]
“A Lavish Tea Party.”
Sender: Sandrone
Unbeknownst to me, [Name] recently had a variety of sweets from Fontaine imported. It seemed like they tinkered with my bots once again, to get them on their side so I would remain in the dark… they can be such a hassle to deal with sometimes. However, this means that their skills are ever improving, as I’ve been improving my Automatons to be much more complex. As expected of my assistant. Speaking of, they’ve also imported some other things that I’ve been wanting for a while. Hopefully, they’re up to standard this time, or they’ll have to be returned. Ugh, I hate dealing with the Ninth whenever that happens…
Though back to the subject, it seems that [Name] has once again needlessly gone out of their way, since today is my date of birth. Although I don’t like being distracted from my research, and I see no need to waste time just because I happened to be born today, this break that [Name] has prepared for me isn’t too bad. I have not attended a proper tea party in far too long. The fools I have for agents can never set it up correctly.
[Name] is not someone who dresses up very often, but they always make the effort to match their attire with mine. Something that other people should learn from, but alas. Though, I wish they did it more often. Not even the most well-crafted doll could match their beauty. Have I told them that? No, they should be smart enough to figure that out by themselves.
Regardless, I must cut this letter short. After this, I want to work on an Automaton with [Name]. I have held off on it because they have expressed interest in it, and since we are together now, it is the perfect time to work on it. I was expecting them to get huffy at me working today, but it seems that they are pleased to work with me. I wonder why.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Sandrone and you in it. A wide array of treats and sweets are plated on numerous platters, along with ceramic tea cups waiting to be filled with piping hot tea. The surrounding robots are also fashioned in a similar style as her, perfect attire for the tea party, holding additional trays of desserts. (Can these robots eat too?) You’re pouring your wife her favorite kind of tea as you’ve already set her plate, while she sits patiently with her hands folded. Despite Sandrone’s doll-like features, one can see a small smile on her face.
Attached Items:
Instructions For A Perfect Tea Party [Sandrone’s set of instructions as to how a perfect tea party is conducted. Some of the rules seem nonsensical and impossible to many, which is why no Fatui agent can ever live up to the Harbinger’s expectations, as she will not accept anything less than what she desires. However, you are the only person who has managed to fulfill all the rules to a tee, which is one of the reasons she greatly favors you. Sending this list to the Traveler and Paimon is also her way of saying they are never invited as they will never be able to fulfill the rules in a way that satisfies her… how rude!]
Clockwork Toy of Sandrone [A Harbinger toy from Leschots Clockwork Workshop in Fontaine. They seem to have dabbled in making toys of the Harbingers as they said they would, and who better to start with than the machinery genius herself? Of course, Sandrone can point out numerous flaws with the design and components, and probably criticized it heavily to you, but you still seem to love it, because it’s of her! Unfortunately, your wife doesn’t like that very much… why settle for something inferior when you could have it in much higher quality? So the Harbinger decided to make a toy of herself that lives up to her standard. The Traveler can have the faulty one…]
“Another Year Passes…”
Sender: La Signora
In the past, I used to be quite fond of birthdays. In Mondstadt, I would always celebrate it with him every year. But after he died, birthdays left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I never dared think about doing anything on this day ever again. How could I, when he was no longer by my side? But today is my birthday again, and I find myself happy. Why? Because of [Name], the person who taught me how to love again. Admittedly, I pushed away the idea at first. But after some more reflection, I decided it wouldn’t be fair to [Name]. The past is the past, and the present is the present. If [Name] wants to make me feel special on my birthday, then who am I to stop them?
And indeed they did pamper me. They always pamper me but, today it was much more than normal. Breakfast in bed, massages, hair brushing, helping me put on my clothes, opening doors for me, fancy dinner and wine after work. I don’t think there was a single moment where they weren’t trying to do something for me. It gave me a good chuckle, which made them embarrassed. But truly, it made me happy. I had… forgotten what it feels like to be cared for on my birthday. It’s a foreign feeling but, I hope that the foreignness eventually goes away after some time.
However, I must tell them that there’s no need to overexert themselves just because it is my birthday. Although I do enjoy the extra treatment, it does neither of us any good for them to fall asleep before the night is even over. But, that’s okay. There is always next year, yes?
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Signora and you in it. You are fast asleep on the Fair Lady’s lap, a peaceful expression on your face. A similar one is on Signora’s, as there is no one else around, and she can let her guard down around you. There are a few of her flame moths scattered around the room as well, a few on the two of you. As her blonde hair spills onto your face and body, one can only guess what she is thinking.
Attached Items:
Tea Break Pancakes [Despite Signora’s history with her home nation, it’s said that she still enjoys the cuisine from there. So, you like to cook her food from there whenever you can. It might not be as good as a professional’s but it provides her a taste of home. A taste of your love, which is her favorite flavor.]
Rose [It’s no secret that roses are Signora’s favorite flower. Beautiful yet thorny, alluring yet dangerous. There are many kinds of roses with all sorts of meanings in this world, but you two have been seen exchanging only one kind - a red one. Whatever could it mean?]
“Birthdays…”
Sender: Pantalone
When I was a child, birthdays did not mean much to me. After all, how could one focus on their date of birth when it seemed like life was full of nothing but curses and suffering? It was only another day of working to survive. But when I met [Name], they changed that. With them, the day began to have… meaning. Purpose. It wasn’t anything grand, but they made it special, distracting me from another day of poverty. Even with their meager earnings, they never failed to gift me something, even if it was of little to no value, or not the best quality… I cherished it. No one else had ever thought of me so much. When I look back, every time my birthday came around again, my love for them only grew more.
Now that we are adults, my only wish is to repay their kindness and spoil them with as many gifts as they deserve. However, there are a few issues with this. There are times I find myself more disappointed with the world than usual because it has yet to create something that would be a suitable gift that would be on par with my love for my dear [Name]. However, whenever my spouse gifts me something, their thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze me. How is it that they always manage to gift me something wonderful and touching? When I questioned them about this, they raised an eyebrow and gave me a strange look. It seems that I will not learn their secret anytime soon. How unfortunate.
Not to mention, dearest [Name] gets upset when I spend “ludicrous amounts of money” (their words) on them, especially on my birthday, so they’ve “forbidden” me from doing so today. They are rather persistent on this, and their long lectures and expressions are rather amusing, so I’ll indulge them… for now. Do you think they realize I’ll just spend double the amount the next day? Regardless, birthdays are always well spent with [Name], and I plan to enjoy this one fully, just as I have in the past because they are the one who makes my birthday a day worth celebrating.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Pantalone and you in it. The two of you are taking a walk in Snezhnaya, browsing stores and the like. Even though it is Pantalone’s birthday, he seems insistent on trying to buy out a few stores for you once again… so in order to prevent him from doing that, you’ve hidden yourself in his coat, stopping him from walking properly. The Harbinger seems rather entertained by your antics and your head popping out of his coat… he should make you do this more often. It’s perfect for head pats.
Attached Items:
Pantalone’s Spare Change [As it is his birthday, Pantalone is feeling more generous than usual, so he is sending a bit of funds to the Traveler. There is no need for any repayment, take it as a symbol of the Fatui’s goodwill. (However, it would do good to proceed with caution… this is the Ninth, after all.) Opening it up, the duo expects to see an average amount of money, but instead are presented with a couple of million Mora… if this is what Pantalone is willing to send to the Traveler, how much does he spend on [Name]?! Paimon doesn’t want to imagine the number!]
[Name]’s Guide to Gift Giving [A piece written by you to detail how you always choose the best gift for Pantalone, unbeknownst to your husband. Opening it up, the Traveler is very curious as to how you manage to win over the Harbinger every time, a man who has everything he could possibly want at his fingertips. But instead, only one sentence is written on the paper - “I don’t know how I do it either.”]
“Appreciation.”
Sender: Arlecchino
Birthdays were not very much celebrated in the House of Hearth, especially when the former Knave was around. However, that changed when [Name] came along. Years ago, I still remember when they gifted Lynette her first tea cup set. Freminet, a collection of spare parts that he ended up using to make another clockwork toy. And probably the biggest hassle… gifting little Lyney a white rabbit. However, I do appreciate my lover’s efforts. The children always look forward to their birthdays much more now, some even going as far as to drop hints about their desired gift and give puppy eyes to [Name] when the time rolls around. I have to remind my children not to get greedy, and to be grateful for what they already have…
I also remember the first birthday they gifted me something as well. A part of me expected it, considering the way they behaved, but still, it was an… unfamiliar feeling, to be gifted something. And, it was also the day little Lyney and Lynette presented their first amateur magic show to me. Of course, they had much to improve on, but looking back it was a suitable birthday gift, considering how much I’ve seen the two grow now. Needless to say, I appreciate [Name] very much, for what they have given me and my children.
My birthday has come once more, and [Name] is celebrating it as they always feel the need to. Really, even if they did nothing, I would still appreciate it, considering all they’ve done. The sweets they gathered this time were exceptional, and we had a lovely chat, before taking a walk through Fontaine. They say that the flowers that grow in the wild are always the prettiest, especially the Rainbow Roses.
Ah, last of all, if you could do me a favor, that would be greatly appreciated. You have been in Fontaine for a while now, yes? It would be a great help to me if you could point me to some good operas. [Name] and I have watched many in Snezhnaya, however, we don’t often have the chance to watch any in Fontaine, with our work and all. Thank you. And please, do not bore me or waste my time.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Arlecchino and you in it. You two are sitting in a field in Fontaine somewhere, with Rainbow Roses to the side. One of them has been tucked into the Harbinger’s hair, while you seem to be focusing on creating… a flower crown? Despite the pinkness of the rose greatly contrasting with Arlecchino’s whole dark red, black, and white look, she seems to not mind your antics and waits patiently for you to complete your work of art. Of course, as a Fontainian, she knows very well what Rainbow Roses symbolize, and won’t turn down the physical manifestation of your feelings.
Attached Items:
List of Yummy Hidden Gems [A list of great places to buy sweets from in Fontaine, courtesy of [Name], passed on by Arlecchino. Sure, Hotel Debord and Café Lutece do have some excellent sweets, but there are many hidden restaurants and bakeries that provide delicious treats as well! Do stop by and give them a try. Arlecchino favors many of their products. If one needs a similar list for the other nations, do tell.]
Slice of Birthday Cake [An exquisite slice of cake cut from Arlecchino’s birthday cake. She doesn’t care much for the tradition, but [Name] always buys one anyway as an excuse to treat the children from the House to something nice. You know you shouldn’t spoil them so much, but you can’t help it!]
“Splash!”
Sender: Tartaglia
Hey comrade! How have you been? Sorry if my handwriting isn’t the best. I sparred with [Name] for my birthday, and they really roughed me up. Not that I mind, I asked them to go all out. Normally they don’t like fighting with me, because they always insist they don’t like hurting me, but they couldn’t say no to me today. You know, I would like to see the two of you fight. It would be an exhilarating experience.
But anyway, after they patched me up, we took a dive in Fontaine’s waters! You know, whenever I visit Liyue, we often go to cool off in Yaoguang Shoal, but Fontaine’s oceans are so much different. The scenery, the terrain, the greenery, the wildlife… good thing I bought them a waterproof Kamera. Speaking of wildlife, [Name] and I befriended a blubberbeast. [Name] instantly fell in love with the creature, and I feel as though they gave a bit too much attention to it, but, seeing them smile is the best gift I could ever ask for. Maybe I should gift them a plushie of it? However, it is a bit amusing that something that looks as defenseless as that could pack such a punch!
Did you know this, Traveler? Apparently, Romaritime Flowers represent loyalty. [Name] gifted me a bouquet which I was initially confused about since I usually give them flowers instead. But after some quick research, these flowers mean unbreaking oaths. It was a bit ironic really, for I should have gifted them instead as I always swore to be loyal to them, my family, and the Tsaritsa, but it was a wonderful gift. Not to mention the delicious meal they prepared. They’ve been busy researching the best Fontaine recipes for me, so I could make them for Teucer and the others back home, but maybe I should just drag them to Snezhnaya so they could do it instead… I never leave anything but empty plates whenever [Name] cooks for me, but they’ve packaged some for you too, Traveler!
Next time we fight at the Golden House, I’ll bring [Name] along too. Do you think you can hold your own against both of us at the same time?
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Childe and you in it. You two are under the sea, with a Blubberbeast between the two of you. The creature is nudging you while Childe looks on amused. It seems that it’s been begging for some more attention, food, and head pats. Maybe some tummy rubs too. Apparently, you named it Big Cutie, because well… it’s a big cutie! Unfortunately, it seems to have a little bit of a grudge against the Harbinger because he accidentally attacked it.
Attached Items:
[Name]’s Special Macarons [Rainbow Macarons but with a special twist from [Name]. On the top and bottom of the sweet treat are… faces? Very detailed ones too, with colored hair and eyes! Ah, the faces are none other than [Name], Childe, Teucer, and all of his other siblings! Oh, and macarons of Traveler and Paimon were made as well, how kind! Childe says they’re quite delicious, and he is a great cook, so they must be.]
Freshly Caught Fish [Fish caught by Childe. It seems that the two lovers also went fishing after diving a bit, as one knows how much Childe loves to fish. Sadly, your fishing skills still pale in comparison compared to his and you barely caught anything… That’s alright though! No matter how long it takes, he’ll always happily help you hone your skills!]
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obae-me · 5 months
Text
The Reunion We Deserved
I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.
Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!
TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.
Word Count: 4,391
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Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…
Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.
“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”
“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”
Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”
“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.
“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”
Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”
“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”
All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”
“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.
“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”
“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.
The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…
And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.
Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.
After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.
“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.
“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”
“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“
“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.
The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.
This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.
You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.
Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.
Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.
“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”
A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”
The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”
A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.
“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“
A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.
Your eyes went wide.
The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.
The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”
Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.
Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.
Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.
Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.
Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.
White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.
“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.
Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”
Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.
Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”
You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”
That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…
However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.
Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”
“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”
The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.
Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”
At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.
For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”
Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.
But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”
“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”
“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”
“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”
“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”
“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”
“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”
“You belong with us. End of story.”
“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”
“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”
“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”
“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”
“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“
“How much we love you too.”
1K notes · View notes
poetsblvd · 26 days
Text
LOVER BOY ꪆৎ MV1
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blurb . requested . fluff and comfort
⋆⭒˚.⋆
He grunts pushing open the door to the holiday home he’s rented for both of you, arms laden with heavy bags from his shopping spree for you.
Hermès, Cartier, Chanel, Van Cleef, APM Monaco, you name it he’s got it.
He drops the purchases on the couch and sighs, fuck he’s definitely going to have to make another trip down for the rest of the bags.
Many wouldn’t think of him to be the type to spoil his girlfriend, and while he takes great offence to that statement he somewhat understands where they come from.
He hasn’t quite had long or serious enough relationships for him to grow attached to and dote on his girl, but it’s very different with you.
He’s the first guy you’ve ever been with, at ripe age of twenty-two now and having only dated him for a year, he thinks it incredibly important to spoil you.
You’re everything to him, and he wants you to know exactly how a beautiful, kind and loving woman like you should be treated.
Because god forbid anything ever happen to peel you away from him, he wants you to know that you deserve only the best, because you are the best there is.
And it’s not only materialistic spoiling, oh no no no, you have to be treated well from absolutely all angles.
Including very bare minimum actions that make you feel special, holding the door open for you, never letting you walk on the dangerous side of the road, getting you flowers every week, always listening and giving you his full attention and input during conversations, etc etc.
He doesn’t get to do this nearly as often with both of you living in different countries and having extremely busy work schedules.
So the chances that he does get to spoil you with all he has, he snatches the opportunity greedily like a toddler with candy.
Today was supposed very normal day of vacation, the first week of summer break that you and Max were very lucky to spend together in St Tropez.
Waking up in the morning however and kissing your face silly, he deemed you too beautiful to not have a day for yourself, a very general excuse to simply spoil you and make you happy.
So with a few texts here and there, he dropped you off at the spa to rejuvenate, relax and pamper up for a cute little date night.
Without letting it drop that he was going to buy you a gift, or a hundred.
Bringing him to where he is now.
He arranges the bags neatly in the living room, running back to the driveway and pulling out the final gifts, a stunning Versace gown and your favourite Manolo Blahnik heels for the dinner he has planned.
He runs back in just in time for your cab to roll through, as you smile and wave to the driver.
He struggles for a moment, wondering how to position himself casually, should he lie down? No that’s weird.
Lean on the door? Far too Troy Bolton for him.
Position himself sexily on the presents? Absolutely not you’d laugh too hard and never let him live it down.
“Maaaaax! I’m hoome!” Your greeting has him smiling and he finds himself making long strides to pull you into his arms.
“Hello my love.” He breathes in the flowery scent of your perfume and the softness of your skin. “You look stunning, how do you feel?”
He finds himself momentarily in awe of your smile and nods, impressed when you shove your hands in front of his face showing him the nails you’d decided upon.
“They’re very pretty baby, I really like the blue flowers on them!” He winks at you, pulling your nails closer to his face.
“Really? I’m so glad! The lady over there kept telling me that I should do ombré, and I didn’t know how to tell her that I really hated designs like that, so we finally agreed on— Max!” You gasp, stopping in between your story telling.
“What?” He shrugs innocently.
You gape at the living room filled with shopping bags of varying sizes and colours, shock marring your face. “Oh Max, again?”
His brows furrow. “What do you mean again?”
“I mean, you practically bought me the entirety of Hermès a few months ago? Why on earth would you spend so much money on me again?”
“Five months ago darling!” He leads you to the sofa, kissing your knuckles, and handing you a tiffany blue box.
“I’ve been slacking! And what do you mean on you? What else would I ever spend my money on? it’s yours anyways, everything of mine is yours, especially me.” He settles down cross legged by your feet and keeps pulling boxes and bags towards you.
Placing a hand on his cheek you smile “You really don’t have to do this, I’ve told you so many times I just want you.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want too.” He grips your hand on his cheek and kisses your fingertips.
“I love you.”
“I know, I love you more.” He smiles, squeezing your knee and nodding at you to open your presents.
“Now come on! Gimme a fashion show, I planned this with just enough time before our dinner. I got you these new shoes, oh! And a dress for tonight, but you’re gonna have to choose between this tennis necklace or this Juste un Clou necklace, I liked both so I got you both.”
⋆⭒˚.⋆
love note , ugh this made me feel very single and think of very unreal expectations from men!! thank you for requesting and i hope you liked this <3
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sp0o0kylights · 8 months
Text
Whole thing on A03
It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it. 
Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it. 
They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned. 
They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design. 
Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy. 
"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job. 
As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family. 
Likely for business purposes.
"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead. 
It was easier than getting into it.
(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents. 
How his money went into a bank account they had access to. 
That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line. 
And boy, had he been acting out of line. 
 Getting into fights. 
Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills. 
Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.) 
So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for  was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track. 
His own plans be damned. 
"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.
 “We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot. 
The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen. 
Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.
Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas. 
"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!” 
“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him. 
Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”  
Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go. 
Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.
He was wrong. 
xXx 
Mike hadn’t cared. 
El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months. 
Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.) 
Max was the surprising emotional standout. 
"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest. 
Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them. 
Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him. 
“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage. 
Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.
(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh. 
Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again. 
Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.) 
“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.” 
This was clearly not the correct thing to say.
Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy. 
“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?” 
“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval. 
“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”  
“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max. 
Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. 
xXx 
“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom. 
Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble. 
“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter. 
Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”
An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do. 
He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago. 
“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck. 
Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles. 
“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!” 
“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.” 
Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large. 
“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road. 
“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone. 
A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it. 
Now he just stared tiredly at her back. 
“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case. 
“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second. 
Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.
Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it. 
“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort. 
Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.” 
He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone. 
It was just---Nancy did know. 
Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life. 
How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year. 
That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that. 
Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down. 
(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.) 
“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.” 
Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to. 
“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”
“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin. 
“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now. 
So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm. 
“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough. 
“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…” 
She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them. 
Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”
She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt. 
“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car. 
As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit. 
Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things. 
“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?” 
He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice. 
A third time for good measure. 
“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.” 
Steve shrugged, because well. Not really. 
Not anymore. 
But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused. 
Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in. 
A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy. 
Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’ 
 He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly. 
“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.” 
It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet. 
“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise. 
“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut. 
“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point. 
“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand. 
He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. 
“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?” 
Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left. 
“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.  
“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”
Robin didn’t believe him.
His Robin. 
Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--
There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed. 
“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking. 
“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him. 
Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal. 
“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door. 
Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open. 
Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to. 
The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward. 
Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?
Against his parents? 
Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes. 
Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing . 
He didn’t know where he was going.
He figured he’d find out when he got there. 
xXx 
Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.
But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead. 
Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that. 
Party.
This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it. 
With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough. 
Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone. 
Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him. 
It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in. 
So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away. 
(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.) 
He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.
Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt. 
Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan. 
He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can. 
“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times. 
“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out. 
“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.
“Oh god.”
Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.” 
Then; “It gets worse.” 
Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”
Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans. 
A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.
She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl. 
Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid, 
“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.” 
Steve stayed silent. 
Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones. 
“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.” 
Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut. 
“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now. 
“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--” 
“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer. 
Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.” 
Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry. 
For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him. 
“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.” 
“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.
Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done. 
“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”  
A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie. 
“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.” 
“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news. 
“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”
“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.” 
“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…” 
He’d put his wife first. His family, first. 
The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one. 
He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess. 
In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored. 
 They’d warned him. 
Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic. 
That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was. 
“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.” 
They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.
“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle. 
For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary. 
Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind. 
Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come. 
Provided he did what his parents wanted.
Such as marrying Angie. 
Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger? 
 Steve would bow to their whims. 
 Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it. 
Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand. 
Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work. 
It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish. 
Steve would try anyway. 
His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck. 
“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.” 
“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine. 
“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?” 
It was a downright horrible idea.
But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one. 
Not  when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it. 
He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.  
They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was. 
Steve needed that.
People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him. 
“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”
Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins. 
No matter how long the engagement. 
Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him. 
He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think. 
Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel. 
Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others. 
He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin. 
“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.
This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.) 
Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.
Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other. 
“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?” 
Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there. 
“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question. 
Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway. 
“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart. 
He was now working on removing the 40 ounce. 
Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest. 
“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?
Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse. 
“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.
This did not detour the metalhead. 
“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly. 
Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”
Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve. 
For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too. 
Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!” 
Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.
It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so. 
“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!” 
Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either. 
“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.” 
At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.
Maybe.
It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying. 
Speaking of; 
 “When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.
“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.
“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been. 
“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home. 
The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice. 
Part Two
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