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kiss-theggoat · 4 months

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I’m back again! I’m a sucker for Thomas Hewitt okay, and there isn’t enough about him! I was wondering if you could do another fic about him, a childhood friend of Thomas’s who moved away comes back in town. She ends up staying with them while she is in town, unknowingly having interrupted their killing plans, leaving a victim down in the basement and unknown from reader. But when the family isn’t home (who knows why) victim escapes and attacks reader. Reader attacks back but ends up killing the victim on accident. In fear she hides the body but the guilt kills her and she ends up telling Thomas. (I know out of character stuff)

A/N: Thank you for the request, I really love writing for Thomas and hope you like! 🖤

Surprise!

Thomas Hewitt x F!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: After years of being away from home, you finally decide to visit your hometown…only to see it’s been shut down. Only one family still lives there, and thankfully, you know them, and they offer to let you stay there! But…after a few days, you start to sense that something isn’t right.

TW: Canon-Typical Violence

The drive to Texas was long, but as you watched the dust and sagebrush go by, your chest swelled with excitement. You hadn’t been back in your hometown since your parents made you leave when you were younger, and now that you finally had your own car and your own money, the first thing on your list was to visit that sleepy little Texas town you’d missed since you left. The only issue was that as you kept driving…you noticed that all of the street signs leading to town were decrepit. You thought…well, you’d been gone a long time…just normal wear and tear under the Texas sun, right?

Wrong.

As you drove into town…you felt your chest tighten at the state of things. Almost every single building was boarded up, windows shattered and spray painted, signs on the ground and covered in dust. There was no way that anyone lived here, hell, the only stoplight in town didn’t even work…

Your car sputtered to a stop in front of what used to be your favorite little convenience store. Where you used to go inside and beg your mom to buy you all of the candy she said was off limits. The same store you got caught stealing a candy bar with your best friend and thought you both might get arrested by the sheriff. You slammed your car door shut, dust clouding around you in a plume of sadness in nostalgia. It was so quiet…not even a cricket…until you heard a siren.

How can an abandoned town have law enforcement? You raised a hand to block the relentless sunlight, turning to the source of the sound, where an old cop car rolled up beside you. The tint on the windows was definitely illegal, but thankfully, the sheriff slowly rolled it down, revealing his scowling face, eyes blocked by sunglasses.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in town?” He asked, lip stuffed with chew. His voice was gruff, but sounded so oddly familiar to you. You leaned in closer, eyes squinting in order to get a better look at him. You peered at the name badge…Hoyt. That didn’t sound familiar at all…but then he said your name. You continued to look at him in confusion as he pulled his sunglasses off, his eyes full of recognition. This man obviously knew you…but who was he?

He stepped out of the car and shut the door, leaning against it as he spit a puddle of black sludge onto the ground. “Well I’ll be damned. Thought I’d never see your pretty face again.”

“I’m sorry…it’s been a long time since I’ve been here and…the name Hoyt doesn’t ring any bells.” I told him, pointing at the nameplate on his chest.

“Oh this is a buddy’s uniform. Lost my own badge. The name Hewitt ring any bells? Charlie Hewitt.” He spit again, closer to your shoe this time, making you cringe and step away just a little. At first, you didn’t remember the name Hewitt either…until you remembered Thomas. The one boy in your class that never came to school, was always bullied or called names because of his face. Your eyes lit up as you made eye contact with him, a smile spreading onto your lips.

“Hewitt! Yes! I remember Thomas.” You said happily. If the Hewitt family was still here, then the town couldn’t be completely shut down, right?

This seemed to annoy Charlie in a way, his lip curling up into a sneer at the sound of Thomas’ name. “Course you remember that big oaf. Hard to miss ‘im.” He spat the rest of his chew onto the ground, wiping his lip with the back of his hand, “Where you plannin’ on stayin’?”

This made you sigh. You were hoping the little motel would still be open, but you’d just driven past it, and from the looks of it, its only residents were probably rats and roaches. “Well, actually…I probably have to drive back to Austin tonight. I didn’t know the town had…” you stopped talking, eyes landing on Charlie’s wrinkled face, not wanting to say anything rude about the hometown you shared.

“Gone under?” He broke out into a wheezy laugh, making it very clear to you that he’d probably been smoking like a chimney since you left. “Yeah. Not a lotta folks left. But Austin’s a long way and it’s gettin’ dark…not safe for a pretty little thing like you to be alone.” The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine. You knew him…but he seemed …different. His eyes had a sinister glow to them, the way he stared down at your chest made you want to hop in your car and never come back. “Why don’t you come stay at the house? M’sure Luda Mae would love havin’ another girl around.” He took a step closer to you, eyes still focused where they shouldn’t be.

You spoke quickly, definitely quick enough to make your uneasiness known. “No, that’s okay…I really don’t mind driving back into the city.”

This seemed to amuse Charlie. “Oh, we insist. Tommy will be there…don’t think he’s seen someone like you in his whole life.”

For some reason, the mention of Thomas made you actually want to go. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your memories of Thomas, while very little, were only fond. He was a big kid for his age, and very misunderstood, but always very kind and quiet. And…he did say there would be another girl there, right? So you wouldn’t just be alone with this creep. Maybe going to visit the Hewitt’s would be a nice walk down memory lane.

“Okay…sure. It is getting pretty late, I guess.” You agreed, making him smile and show off his stained yellow teeth.

“Perfect. Just drive behind me.” He told you, opening the door to his cop car.

The drive to the Hewitt’s home was longer than you’d thought, and their house was huge. As you parked behind Charlie, you stared up at the house in awe, seeing every single window illuminated. You supposed that with the entire town pretty much out of commission, they owned whatever property they wanted. Your shoes crunched against the gravel as Charlie led you inside, and the moment he opened the door, a feeling of discomfort settled deep in your stomach.

The house was cozy, but eclectic. Too eclectic, like every item inside belonged to a different owner at some point in time. It smelled like a mixture of expired perfume and rotting meat, a sickeningly sweet film settling on your sweaty skin, making it hard to breath inside the home. You stuck a smile on your face anyways, not wanting to seem rude as you were led into the dining room. It seemed as though you were interrupting dinner, everyone already seated in front of their bowls, full of some sort of stew. Your presence immediately turned heads, all six eyes fixed on you and Charlie standing in the doorway.

“Well I don’t believe it…” The lady whispered, who you immediately recognized to be Luda Mae. God, she’d gotten old. You remember her being old when you were in elementary school, and part of you wondered how she was still alive. Across from her sat an elderly man, who somehow looked twenty years older than her. He was sitting there, eyes on you but unfocused, like he was staring at the air between you and the table. Last to meet your gaze was Thomas.

Your heart sank when you saw him, or what was exposed. The leather mask covering his face upset you beyond reason. You knew that Tommy had been bullied for his looks when you guys were little, but never thought he’d make a custom mask to wear, even around his family, and at dinner for god's sake. That’s when it occurred to you, he wasn’t even eating.

“Found ‘er down by the old gas station lookin’ for a place to stay. Ain't she pretty?” Charlie asked, his voice low and predatory as walked towards his seat at the head of the table. The way he spoke about you, like you were just a piece of meat, made your skin crawl.

You gave everyone a polite smile and a little wave before speaking. “Well, I expected the motel to still be open…really, I can find somewhere else to stay, I hate to impose if-“

“Oh don’t be silly!” Luda interrupted. “We’d love to have you. You’ve just gotten so pretty…hasn’t she Tommy?” Your eyes shot to a very flustered looking Thomas, his eyes fixed on his steaming bowl of stew, still untouched.

“Please dear, have a seat, you’re just in time for dinner.”

To be completely honest…you didn’t want to eat their dinner. Something about the house and their demeanor made you want to leave, but if there was one thing you learned about growing up in Texas, it was to accept the hospitality.

“Thank you, Luda Mae.” You said softly, accepting the seat beside Thomas. Charlie scooped a full ladle of soup into a bowl and set it in front of you. With clammy hands you grabbed the spoon, noticing that none of their silverware matched. The spoon you had was delicate, handle slim with swirled details adorning the shiny silver.

All of the Hewitt’s stared at you with prying eyes as you scooped yourself a bite. It contained a chunk of meat, a carrot, and an onion, along with the broth they soaked in.

The moment that stew touched your tongue, you knew something was wrong. The meat tasted off, way too gamey. You’d had your fair share of meats, different kinds of game and homemade foods made with hunting prizes but this…unlike anything you’d ever tasted. It was tender, and didn’t taste bad, but the unfamiliar taste tainted the whole soup, causing alarm bells to go off in your head.

You were soon distracted by the sounds of the family scarfing down their own dinner, spoons hitting porcelain and lips smacking. In no time, your bowl was empty, and so was everyone else’s…except for Thomas’. But, this seemed normal among dinner time as Luda Mae cleared the dishes without a word.

“Tommy. Show our guest to ‘er room for the night, would ya?”

The wooden chair screeched against the floor when Thomas stood. He just seemed to keep going…he towered over you. You craned your neck to stare at him, mouth open and eyes widening. You stood from your own chair, noticing how much larger he was than you. You stood at his chest, and he easily doubled you in width.

Without a word he started walking past you, and you figured he meant for you to follow, so you did. The more you explored the house, the less cozy it got, and by the time you made it to the guest room, it was plain and simple, just a bed with white sheets in the middle of an empty room. Thomas stood at the door, taking up the entire entrance.

“Thank you, Thomas.” You said quietly, giving him a small smile that made him turn away from you. “It’s really nice to see you.”

The longer you stared, the more you realized that he was still the same old Tommy. A gentle giant with pretty brown eyes that sucked you in until you didn’t want to look away.

Just as you were getting lost in your thoughts, Charlie shoved Thomas aside, holding your bag that you’d left in your car.

“‘Ere you go, gorgeous.”

“Thanks, Charlie…” you said softly, grabbing the bag. That was nice of him, but you don’t remember giving him your car keys…

“My rooms just downstairs if you need anythin’.” Charlie sent you an uncomfortable wink, reminding you to lock your door tonight, and walked away. Thomas stood with his head down, still in the doorway.

“Uhm…goodnight, Thomas.” You said softly, a smile gracing your face again. This time, he looked at you. And you could’ve sworn that before you closed the door, his eyes crinkled, like he might’ve smiled too. You closer the door, and grumbled at the lack of a lock, finally getting ready for bed.

A shriek yanked you from your peaceful slumber, making you sit up straight in bed. Your heart was pounding, and you reached over to turn on the small bedside lamp. You were hoping it was just a nightmare, something you could just ignore and go back to the weirdly comfy mattress but the longer you sat there, the more you heard. Footsteps, whispering…but they sounded so frantic. Not like someone getting up for a glass of water or a midnight snack.

Slowly and hesitantly, you walked towards the door and pulled it open, bare feet finding every single splinter in the floor until you were finally in the hallway, staring down the stairs in the dark with wide, fearful eyes. Everything seemed fine…until a woman stumbled into your field of vision. She was bloody, open wounds on her back in an odd spot…did she just break into the house? She was near the front door and none of the Hewitt’s were with her. You stared at her, panicking, especially when you made eye contact.

Your blood went cold and you quickly backed up, barely hanging onto the banister.

“You have to help me, please! You have no idea what is going on here, we have to get out, you have to help me!” The girl started to ramble, but her voice was a whisper-like scream. Her bloodied hands hit the stairs and she began to crawl towards you.

You stared blankly, overcome by the fear and shock of seeing her inside the home…before you knew it, she made it to you. She gripped your ankle with a sticky hand, pulling you closer to the stairs. “Please!” She hissed, her eyes wide and crazed.

Instinctively, you tried to kick her hand away from you, pulling away. You felt your breathing speed up, panic overwhelming you. “Get off me!”

Her eyes flashed with realization, and she immediately recoiled. “You…you’re one of them…oh my god!” She wailed, voice full of dread and tears flowing down her cheeks. One of them? What did that even mean? This sorrow and dread only lasted a few seconds…before she turned to rage. Her face scrunched and it was like she’d been struck by lightning, body invigorated and suddenly strong enough to function. She stood and lunged at you, hands on your shoulders.

Your breath left your lungs as she slammed you against the wall, the back of your head aching in a way it never had before. In an attempt to get her off of you, you pushed her as hard as you could, feeling the slick blood on her shoulder and her neck where your hands hit her. Your eyes were closed tightly as you shoved, but it didn’t take vision to know what happened to her. Her body stumbled down the stairs, thumping all the way down, groans and grunts escaping her as she trailed blood all the way down.

You covered your mouth with your trembling hands…you’d just killed someone…you felt nauseous, you could feel your stomach turning as you stared at her body at the bottom of the stairs, laying limp. You prayed and prayed that she’d move, but she never did. A door slammed open from somewhere downstairs and that’s when you realized…

You’d just killed someone inside of someone else’s home. Tears rolled down your face and you slid down the wall to the ground, knees shaking and unable to support your weight anymore. Heavy footsteps approached the dead body at the bottom of the stairs…and Thomas came into your field of view. He stared nonchalantly at the woman, but turned to face you when he heard your sob.

“Thomas I’m so sorry I don’t know what happened…” you whispered, face bright red from crying and entire body shaking. Thomas stood still for a moment, but when he started moving, nothing could’ve stopped him. He knelt on the stairs in front of you, huge hand taking yours.

The warmth radiated through your fingers and up into your arms, making them feel less shaky and cold and traumatized. You stared up at Thomas, bleary eyes filled with tears, realizing that he wasn’t mad…or scared…he wanted to help you. Relief overwhelmed you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moving closer to him, arms wrapped around his broad waist, head buried against his chest. With your panicking, you barely noticed the fact he wore a button up and a leather apron, droplets of blood smearing against your cheek. You didn’t care. Thomas wrapped his tree trunk arms around you and held you against him…it was like nothing else mattered. Comfort washed over you and for a moment you felt like you hadn’t just killed a woman for no reason.

“S-she just attacked me, she jumped at me and grabbed me and she was yelling and-“

Thomas’ hand gently stroked your hair as if to shush you, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he held you as close as he could.

There was nothing that would stop him from being close to you. Not the three bodies in the basement, and definitely not the bitch that hopped off the hook.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt

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still-a-morosexual-help · 1 year

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God, this man has the absolute worst case of nostalgia based rose tinted glasses

In nightbringer itself Asmo says the day before they Fell he was hiding from Raphael for messing with him/pissing him off

All of Lucifer's siblings (minus Levi, as far as we know) were frequently sneaking into the human world while they were actively at war with the Devildom and while it was forbidden to interact with humans

Mammon used the angels as his own giant chess set????

Mammon used to sneak into the human world to collect pigeon feathers and sell them to angels by saying they were Raphael's feathers, which is hilarious but is also A FUCKING SCAM THAT CURRENT MAMMON WOULD ABSOLUTELY PULL

The others actually thought Mammon would Fall long before he did because he was such a shit head

Asmo used to have his Asmo parties or Asmo nights or whatever up in the Celestial Realm despite Raphael saying parties are bad (I feel like the actual word he used was "immoral"? )

Asmo used to sneak into the human world to go partying with humans

It is heavily implied in s3 that asmo was fucking & sucking his way through the celestial realm (good for him btw get those sticks outta the angels' asses babe i believe in you <3 )

The twins and Lilith used to frequently sneak into the human world

Lilith started a whole ass relationship with a human and lied her ass off about it so that she could keep it secret

Lilith compared Michael to a jellyfish???? the first time she met him and that pissed him off

Lilith held a hell of a grudge

Belphie used to skip work so he could go nap

The brothers, as a team, used to catch frogs, cut holes in books, put the frogs into them and wait for Raphael to open them

The brothers, as a team, used to dig pits in the ground and cover them up so that other angels would fall into them (at least the frog thing was kinda funny this is just them being straight up dicks)

Raphael was constantly chasing them around with his spears and getting on Lucifer's ass about them because of how troublesome they were

S4 implies that the reason the brothers' pranks are more refined as demons, compared to when they were angels, is because they now have Satan

So yeah, they were always asses

But even if there is some truth in what Lucifer said about them being kind & sincere (and honestly, there is. We've seen more than enough evidence of it in the events, devilgrams, chats & s1-4) :

Levi says he was depressed in the Celestial Realm and felt like he didn't fit in.

Both Mammon & Beel didn't fit in until Lucifer found them.

Lilith definitely didn't feel like she fit in.

Lucifer, as a demon, says he'll never want to go back. Talking with Diavolo as an angel made him lose a little faith in the Celestial Realm. His greatest fear is possibly his father. Even before they Fell something in the Celestial Realm was pissing him off so much that he managed to spawn a whole other conscious life form - Satan says he gained his own consciousness even before Asmo was created meaning that anger had been festering for a long time.

As far as we know Asmo & Belphie were the only ones who were genuinely happy throughout their entire time in the Celestial Realm (and I think once Asmo gets used to his demon form he'll appreciate the freedom in the devildom over the strictness of the celestial realm)

Mammon, in Nightbringer, says that they know there's no real difference between being an angel or a demon and that they're all just labels.

Whatever sincerity and kindness they, may or may not have, had in the Celestial Realm wasn't because they were angels. Or because of the Celestial Realm.

It was in spite of all that.

It was just what they are like as people.

And of course that sincerity and kindness aren't gonna shine through right after a horribly traumatic event that killed their sister and permanently changed their bodies. And due to such an event & their Sins becoming more...more, they'll obviously be different and treat each other differently as demons.

But at the end of the day they are good, kind people, even as demons.

Like we've seen that.

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whatsnewalycat · 10 months

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I Know

(Second Part to Bunny)

Summary: It didn't take you long to figure out that your new co-worker, Javier Peña, is a former client from your days working a phone sex line. But does he know who you are?

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 5.3k+

Content / Warnings: professor javi, former phone sex operator reader, professor reader, co-workers, seduction, yearning, dirty talk, smut, smoking, swearing, drinking

Notes: Hi, pals. LOOK I TOLD YOU I WOULD DO A SECOND PART TO THIS!!! True to my word, baby. Hope you like it.

There’s such camaraderie in a cigarette.

At the social hour after New Faculty Orientation, smokers gather on the sidewalk outside the University of Texas San Antonio’s John Peace Library. Liquor-fueled mouths babble on, letting off thick plumes of exhaust into the cloudless sky. Blue ribbons of smoke dance off the ashy orange tips of cigarettes between puffs.

All these academics broken off from the crowded meeting hall into bite-sized chunks, generally determined by field of study, familiarizing themselves with the colleagues they’ll come to rely on. Within this horde, you ask yourself: Who will have a lighter when I can’t find mine? Who will commiserate with me over a smoke when I have my first work-related breakdown? Facilitate those necessary micro-therapy sessions that get me through the hardest days?

Dr. Natalie King, whose poison of choice is menthol flavored, chatters on about her excitement to be working at her alma mater—a proud Roadrunner, through and through, eventually asking, “Where did you work before this?”

“This is my first job out of my doctoral program.”

It’s mostly the truth. You take a drag off your cigarette, then blow a chimney stack out the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, straight into academia, huh?” she smirks, and when you grin, she comments, “Brave girl. Well, if you ever have any questions about the clinical side of things, feel free to reach out to me. Lord knows us gals have to stick together in such a male-driven field.”

A flash of light catches your eye, the glare of sun off the library door opening. An attractive, dark-haired, mustachioed man steps out into the bright, buzzing Texas sun. He slides on a pair of yellow-tinted aviators and pats his shirt pockets, fishing out a little white and red box. He plucks a cigarette from the pack and meanders up to your two-person sample study in women’s psychology, asking Natalie, “Got a light?”

She nods and starts digging through the purse hanging off her shoulder while the man shifts his weight to one leg and pushes the cigarette between his plush lips. He takes a cursory glance around at the other smokers as Natalie curses under her breath.

“I got it,” you pull a lighter from the pocket of your slacks and hand it to him.

“Thanks,” he murmurs around the filter and lights the tip, inhaling until it’s a glowing ember, then gives it back to you.

“Dr. Natalie King,” your companion introduces herself, sticking her hand out to him.

He gives it a firm shake and says, “Javier Peña,” then turns to you and holds out his hand.

You take it and tell him your name through an exhale of thick smoke, meeting his dark eyes through the sunglasses. He holds your gaze for a moment, then steps back and brings the hand to his hip, jerking his head towards the library, “What’re you two in for?”

Natalie answers that you’re both Doctors of Psychology, then goes on to explain which classes she’ll be teaching when the 2002 Fall Semester begins next week.

While she does this, you tilt your head at him, trailing your eyes along the sharp edges of him. The steep slope of his nose, the squared off corners of his jaw, the defined muscles of his neck. He holds himself like there’s a restless energy burning beneath his skin, shifting his weight from leg to leg, eyes working over his surroundings. On guard.

There’s something about him that piques your interest. His voice, warm and deep and smooth, unearths nostalgia from deep within your gut. You mentally sift through acquaintances, friends of friends you might have met at a party, people from your hometown, et cetera, trying to figure out how you know him. It’s strange because you think you would remember meeting someone so handsome.

Your eyes flick to his left hand. No wedding ring. A shiny silver wristwatch catches your attention, though, when it jiggles a little. You glance up, find his eyes locked to yours, and don’t look away until Natalie asks him what he’s teaching.

He pinches the cigarette between his lips and takes a long drag, exhaling words warped by smoke, “Criminal Justice.”

“I see,” Natalie drops her spent torch on the ground and grinds it into the sidewalk with the toe of her brown loafer, then crosses her arms, “What were you doing before this?”

“Not much the past few years,” he cocks an eyebrow and shrugs, “Helping my dad out on his ranch down in Laredo, but I was DEA before that.”

“Oh wow, ok.”

You frown, “What did you say your name was again?”

He flicks his gaze to yours and answers, “Javier Peña.”

Recognition punches you in the gut. Your face gets all hot and you drop your eyes to the sidewalk, “Oh, ok. Well. Great to meet you, Javi.”

You stomp your cigarette out, turning to Natalie with a sigh, “Should we go back inside?”

“Sure.”

Don’t look don’t look don’t look—fuck.

Your eyes betray you. They snap to his. Those dark eyes, studying you with precision, narrowing just enough to twist your stomach in a knot.

Natalie starts towards the library doors, and you trail behind her, ignoring the burn of his stare following you inside.

—

Throughout the next couple weeks, when your paths cross, his gaze lingers.

Sometimes you don’t even notice he’s there until your brain’s ancient hardwiring sends out a primal pulse of warning, making your nerves to crackle. During workshops and interdepartmental meetings. While walking the halls. In the faculty parking lot. And, of course, on your smoke breaks.

You wonder what information he obtains in those small moments before your heart thuds and face flushes, urging you to put as much space between yourself and his meticulous gaze as possible.

Each instance summons the ghost of his voice as you walk away, greeting you with a cool, “How’s Bunny doing tonight?”

Asking you, “Can you do something for me, sweetheart?”

Asking, “Are you touching yourself? Let me hear it.”

It forces you to revisit the evolution of your intimacy, how the two of you gradually went from “It’s nice hearing your voice,” to, “I thought about you all week,” to, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. Don’t suppose you make house calls, do you, Bunny?”

These memories start to bleed into your thoughts with alarming frequency.

You think about him when you brush your teeth in the morning. When you go to sleep at night. Every free moment in between. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you wonder, “Does he think I’m attractive?” Then scold yourself for giving a shit.

“It doesn’t matter,” you lie to yourself, “He wasn’t talking to me, he was talking to Bunny.”

—

Only a few students and staff roam the campus at this time of day, when overnight dew still clings to the blades of grass hidden from the sun. This particular spot, a tucked-away path between the Biosciences Building and a parking garage, usually only has one visitor each morning: you.

Every once in a while, the hum of a car engine sounds from behind the big oak tree you’re propped up against, followed by the slam of a car door, then the echoey shuffle of shoes against concrete as whoever makes their way to wherever.

Mostly, though, it’s peaceful.

You raise the 22-ounce styrofoam cup of watered-down gas station coffee to your mouth and pause, gauging the heat of the steam that brushes your lips. Too hot. Lowering the cup to your lap, you spot a robin a few yards away. It hops across some damp grass, tilting its head this way and that; its keen, beady eyes scan for movement below the earth’s surface.

A deep breath expands your lungs and your eyes drift closed. You concentrate on the cool ground beneath your legs. The oak tree holding your body upright. Your head rolls back against it, like you’re trying to soak up some of its fortitude for the day ahead of you.

The dry scuff of footsteps on the cement sidewalk tugs at the edge of this meditation. They come to a stop nearby, then you hear a familiar timbre ask, “Mind if I join you?”

Your eyes snap open, spine straightening as you squint towards the source: Javier Peña.

Heat trickles through your body as you survey him. The navy blue fabric of his fitted suit stretches across his broad shoulders in a way that’s really not fair. Sunlight douses him in brightness, and his dark eyes seem to glow in the warmth. He shifts his weight to one leg and plants a hand on his hip, glancing around before he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and plugs one into his mouth, then holds the pack out to you. An offering.

Against your better judgment, you nod in approval.

A little smirk makes the dangling cigarette bob between his lips. He saunters over to where you’re seated, visibly relieved when the shade of the oak tree falls over his body. With a quiet grunt, he sits down next to you, unbuttoning his suit jacket, resting his back against the sturdy tree.

Again, he holds the red and white pack of cigarettes out to you. You take one, murmuring, “Thanks,” as you shove the filter between your lips and light it.

He does the same and takes a sharp inhale, exhaling blue smoke, “Nice spot you got here. Quiet.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, heart thumping loud and hot behind your ears, “How are your first few weeks going?”

“Fine,” he shrugs and flicks ash from the tip of his cigarette, “Pretty different from what I’ve been doing these past few years.”

“Right, on the farm?” you inquire, purposely getting the vernacular wrong to throw him off your trail.

He doesn’t correct you, just nods, “Although, some of these kids are stubborn as cattle.”

You laugh at this, “It’s been an adjustment, huh?”

He hums in accord, and you can feel his eyes on your profile, studying you.

Your insides twitch. Skin tingles. You take a drag off your cigarette, then say, “Yeah, same here. I’m straight out of school, so it’s pretty surreal being on this side of the fence.”

“I bet,” he murmurs, “Wha’d you do for work?”

“Customer service, call center stuff.”

You’re not sure why you didn’t just make something up. Say you did manual labor or clerical work or something.

Maybe it’s because you know how earnest he is, and any potential lie would feel like poison in your throat. Maybe it’s because the space between you feels electric and sacred.

Maybe there’s a small part of you that wants him to figure it out.

“How’d you like that?” he asks as he blows a cloud of smoke away.

“Well,” you sigh, looking down at the coffee cup pinched between your legs, avoiding his gaze, “I liked it, actually. I talked to a lot of different people. It was interesting. Plus, the paycheck was nice.”

Again, he hums in acknowledgement, then chuckles, “Hopefully this gig pays better.”

“Yeah,” you snort, “A lot better. It was fun while it lasted, but this… this is my purpose, you know?”

You glance over at him now, and his eyes lock to yours. The intensity of his stare inspires tiny flutters from deep within your core. Right when you start to ask yourself, “Does he—?” Javier nods, “I know.”

These two words give you a head rush. Your mouth gapes, and his gaze flicks to the open space between your lips. It lingers there for a beat too long before he looks away and takes one last drag off his cigarette. He crushes its glowing orange cherry into the earth and murmurs, “I better get going.”

“Oh—yeah, ok,” you frown, following his form as he rises to his feet and brushes grass from the seat of his pants, “It was nice talking to you.”

Javier smirks down at you, those devastatingly warm brown eyes softening when he asks, “See you around?”

“Sure thing,” you smile.

He stares at you for a moment, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, then turns and leaves the way he came.

—

Later that night, your office phone rings.

You pick it up and pinch the receiver between your ear and shoulder, “Hello?”

“What’s up, Doc?”

A knot twists in your belly. Your eyes flick to your closed office door, then to the lecture notes scrawled on index cards all spread across your desk.

“Hi, who am I speaking to?”

Like you don’t know. Like the rich notes of his voice don’t instantly send shivers down your spine.

“Javier Peña,” he answers. In the background, there’s a clink, followed by the slosh of liquid pouring into a glass.

Nostalgia hums thick beneath your skin. Hundreds of conversations flash through your head and shimmer between your legs. You lick your lips and ask, “What can I help you with, Professor Peña?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice again like this,” he murmurs, then clarifies, “Over the phone, I mean. I missed it.”

A few things happen in quick succession within the confines of your body.

First, your heart swells. You curl the cord of your phone around your index finger and smile. He missed it. He missed you.

Then, an odd feeling dims your brightness. Like you’re naked in front of a crowded room. Exposed. You sit up straight and whip your head around the empty room.

Finally, the peacekeeper inside you tells you to calm the fuck down. This doesn’t definitively prove he knows. Maybe he’s confused you for someone else. Or maybe he’s playing a joke on you.

It’s fine.

A wet swallow sounds on the other end, then he continues, “I didn’t know you’d be so attractive in person, though… Bunny.”

Shit.

Electricity floods your veins and short-circuits your brain.

“I—I don’t know what you mean,” you let out an exasperated chuckle and push your chair out behind you. The coiled cord of your phone works as a leash as you pace the width of your desk, “Professor Peña, I’m not sure who you think I am—”

“Don’t do that, sweetheart. Don’t bullshit me,” he purrs, his voice sure and steady, “I know.”

Shock steals your tongue. Your eyes clamp shut. Chest aches. Hands tingle. You take a deep, shaky breath and try to harden your tone, “Know what, exactly?”

Javier ignores your denial, just says, “Come over.”

“Javi—” you start to protest, destroying all pretense as you stare up at the ceiling.

He doesn’t say anything. The line is silent as he waits for a better response.

Eventually, you ask, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you doing this—What do you want?” you drop your voice to a whisper, “Look, if you’re trying to blackmail me—”

“Blackmail you?” he scoffs, “Do you really think I’d do that?”

You scoff, “Well, I don’t know—”

“I promise it’s not like that, sweetheart. I’d just like to have a drink with you in private, so we can… talk.”

“Now who’s bullshitting?”

The speaker crackles with an airy chuckle, “You got me there.”

“So… what do you want with me, Javi?”

You hear the metallic flick of a lighter. A sharp inhale. His words are fuzzy with smoke when he asks, “Haven’t you wondered what it would be like?”

Heat flickers deep inside you. You imagine his hands gripping your body. His mouth hot on your skin. You lean against your desk and shrug, “It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You don’t trust yourself to say anything.

He takes a drag off his cigarette, then says, “All that talk about what we would do if we were together. How well you’d take me. What that sweet little cunt would feel like wrapped around—”

“Javi, it was a job,” you whine. It holds little conviction.

He’s quiet. The low, airy hiss of his lungs drawing smoke. Then, “Are you saying it wasn’t real?”

Heat rises to your face. You open your mouth to lie, but you breathe the truth instead, “No.”

“Then come over.”

You bite your lip, looking down at your lecture notes with indecision.

“Please.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you concede, “What’s your address?”

—

Javier’s one-bedroom apartment is small and tidy. The stark white walls are void of decoration, but the tasteful home furnishings, all wood and bronze and leather, tell you this choice is less “sad bachelor pad” than it is “I want my fucking deposit back.”

What was intended to be a dining room area has been made into a home office. A large chestnut bookcase lines one wall, displaying various textbooks and whodunit novels alongside family photos. A matching chestnut desk butts up against the adjacent wall. Stacks of papers and notebooks, most aptly described as an “organized mess,” sit atop the deep wood finish.

You lean on the kitchen counter opposite him and watch him pour room-temperature whiskey into two low tumbler glasses. Each nerve ending in your body buzzes with anticipation. You try to think of things to say, small talk to make, but it all seems flat. Disingenuous. The words all die on your tongue.

This doesn’t seem to bother him, though.

He slides a glass across the counter, then rests his elbows on the surface, eyes flicking around your face as you take a sip.

“What?” you chuckle after swallowing the burning liquid.

He shrugs, “You’re just… much more beautiful than I expected.”

“Oh yeah?” you smirk, meeting his eyes, “What were you expecting?”

He licks his lips and smiles, this big, brilliant, sly smile, “Real answer?”

Fuck, he’s handsome.

“Always,” you grin in return, batting your eyelashes at him as you lean closer onto the counter.

“I imagined you so many different ways, and none of them seemed right,” he confesses, face falling into a frown, “I expected disappointment.”

“Oh,” you wince and nod, dragging the tip of your finger along the rim of your glass, “Well… are you disappointed?”

“No,” he tells you firmly. Your eyes snap to his, and he asks, “Are you?”

“No,” you breathe, searching his face.

A hum sounds from his throat. The air between you is thick and magnetic. It clings to your skin and makes you shiver.

“Tell me something, sweetheart,” he coos, his vocal cords catching an edge, “No bullshit, alright?”

Your heart gallops. You swallow hard and nod for him to continue.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Everything seems to tilt. Marionette strings pull your spine taut. Your tongue traces your lips before you take a swig from your drink. You can’t look at him, but feel his gaze burning your face.

The counter creaks as he pushes off it. He works his way around it, slowly, deliberately, each step amplifying across your tingling skin, until he’s inches away, hovering there. Heat radiates from his body and pulses between your legs.

Javier purrs your name.

You look over at him and meet those warm, dark eyes, all hooded with want. They drop to your mouth and seem to study your lips. It’s like something tightens around your lungs and squeezes every ounce of air from them.

“I, um…”

It comes out barely a whisper.

His throat rumbles in response. He brushes his knuckles against your cheek, making you shiver, and says, “Look at you, so shy all of a sudden.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He nods in acknowledgment, but he scoots closer. Drags the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip. A shudder racks your body and you whimper.

“I didn’t ask you if it’s a good idea, I asked if you want to fuck me,” he murmurs, hot gaze flicking between your eyes and mouth. He slides his hand against your abdomen. It stays there as he steps behind you, pulling you into the heat of his chest, “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t, though, would you?”

“Javi—”

His lips press a damp spot into your shoulder, the warm tips of his fingers slipping under the fabric of your shirt, drawing soft circles on your bare skin, and he hums, “Hmm?”

You gasp as his touch ripples deeper, jolting your insides, making your eyelids flutter, “We really shouldn’t.”

But you reach back and place your palm on the nape of his neck, gently coaxing him to continue. He leaves a trail of slow, heated kisses to your thudding pulse. The wet velvet of his tongue rolls against you.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, threading his hair through your fingers, pulling him closer.

A pleased rumble sounds from deep inside him. His lips form a seal, sucking the tender skin of your neck. You moan at the wave of pleasure that gushes down your spine.

The hand at your navel slides over the zipper of your pants, following the curve between your legs, applying firm, flush pressure. He holds it there while dragging his tongue up your neck, then catches your earlobe in his teeth and tugs.

“Fuck,” you gasp, and he releases.

“Come on, sweetheart, say it.”

You let your head fall back on his shoulder and roll your hips against his hand. He draws it away and mutters in your ear, “All that dirty talk over the phone, now you can’t use your words?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper, pushing back into the bulge in his jeans, grinding into him.

He sucks in air through his teeth and grazes your cheek with his nose, “What’s that?”

You chuckle and drag a finger along his jawline, “You heard me.”

“Maybe I wanna hear it again.”

“Oh yeah?” you twist around to face him, hooking your hands at the back of his neck.

He drinks you in with this lustful gaze that settles on your lips and nods, then takes a step closer, backing you against the counter, pressing his body into yours.

“Is that what you want?” you drop your voice to a sultry whisper and tilt your head, “You want me to tell you how wet my pussy is for you? How it’s begging to be filled by you?”

A groan escapes his chest and you grin.

“That’s it, isn’t it, baby?”

“It is.”

Your teeth catch your bottom lip for a moment and you shrug, “Do you wanna feel how bad I want you?”

He nods.

“Go ahead, baby.”

Javi searches your face as a hand slips under the waistband of your pants, then under your panties. A thick finger slides between your lips, down the gooey middle of you, and he rasps, “Holy fuck.”

You gasp at the gentle way his touch explores you, moving up and down your folds, spreading your heat.

“That feels good,” you breathe, looking up through your lashes to meet his eyes.

He rubs your clit in soft, concentric motions, holding your gaze, his mouth gaping open when you whimper and nod in approval. Each flick of his wrist accumulates hot and sticky and alive at your core, prodding your pulse, warming your skin. Quiet gasps fall from your lips. Your eyelids flutter and you rake your fingers through his hair.

“Do you like that?” he asks, all rough edges, “Like the way I touch you, baby?”

“Yes,” you whine, “I love the way you play with my pussy, Javi, feels so fucking goood, oh my god—”

His lips crush into yours. You clamber closer, kissing him back, heated and needy, both of you making all these throaty, desperate noises as your mouths meet again and again, licking, tugging, kissing. His touch between your legs quickens, your entire body starts to sweat and tremble as pleasure twists inside you.

You’re overcome with this aching need for more.

“Javi—please,” you beg between kisses, hooking a finger under his belt, “I want you.”

His throat rumbles. He captures your lips in another kiss before grabbing your hand and leading you to his bedroom.

When he flips on the light switch, it reveals a few cluttered surfaces and a four-post bed. You pull your shirt off over your head and shuffle out of your pants as you absorb everything. The suit jackets hanging on the corners of his dresser’s vanity mirror. A stack of mystery novels on his nightstand. The white comforter, rumpled like he tried to make his bed but he’s not very good at it.

So much proof that this person who only existed as a voice in your life for so long is flesh and blood.

It’s surreal.

“Did you ever think something like this would happen?”

You turn to see Javier unbuttoning his shirt, gaze drifting along your body. His pants lay in a pile beside him. An amused smile spreads across your face when you notice his cock standing at attention. He shucks the shirt off his shoulders as you step towards him and slide your palms up his smooth chest.

“What, that I’d fuck a client?”

Javier nods. His hands land on your waist and he guides you back towards his bed, planting a few languid kisses on your jawline, mustache tickling your skin.

“No,” you chuckle, “I had a very strict no meeting policy… as you know.”

The backs of your legs butt up against the bed. You land on the bed with a soft bounce and crawl backwards to allow him space to follow. He does, running his hands along the curves of your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your sternum.

As you tell him, “You were my favorite, though,” he reaches around your back, unhooks your bra, and tosses it aside.

“Was I?”

His heated palms slide up your ribcage, over the slope of your breasts, and he squeezes them. You gasp, eyebrows threading together, and nod. He drags his tongue across your nipple, then closes his lips around it and sucks. A burst of pleasure soaks your insides, sharpening when his teeth catch the bud and grind down.

“Ffffuck,” you whine, meeting his eyes as he moves to the other nipple, licking, sucking, biting. Every motion drips hot down the middle of you.

“Do you like playing with my tits?” you coo while combing your fingers through his hair, making it stick up every which way, “You do, don’t you, baby?”

His eyelids flutter and he moans, nodding, then opens his mouth wider and takes more, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucks.

Your head falls back with a moan, “So fucking good, yes—”

Javi comes off you with a pop and rolls your nipples between his fingers, “So hot.”

You watch him work his way up your body, leaving kisses on your sternum, your collar bone, your cheek, your lips. Your hands slip around his shoulders and you arch your back into him, wrapping your legs around him, soaking up the warmth of his skin, your lips and tongues meeting again and again, exchanging soft moans, hips grinding his cock between your bodies.

“I need you,” he says, eyes all wild and black, “Fuck, I need you—”

“Take me.”

He steals another kiss from your lips before sitting up to pull off your underwear. While tossing them aside, he drinks you in, sliding one heated palm up and down the curves of your body, purring, “Look at you. Fucking perfect.”

You whimper at his praise, at his reverent touch making your nerve endings buzz. He strokes your clit with his thumb, mouth hanging open as your whole body shivers and writhes in reaction.

“So sensitive, mi conejita,” he murmurs, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance, “Do you want it?”

“Yes,” you nod, arching your hips, “I need it—I need to feel you inside me, Javi, please.”

A noise surfaces from deep in his chest, then he breathes, “Fuck, say it again.”

You thread your eyebrows together and bat your lashes at him, shifting your voice into the lusty, airy tone you know gets him going, “I need to feel you inside me, Javi. Need your cock to fill me, make me whole—”

“Fuck,” he groans, hips rocking forward just enough to breach you. A jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine and you moan.

“Do you want more, baby?”

You lick your lips and nod frantically as he works your clit faster, the tip of him teasing you. Pressure builds in your chest and pulls your muscles taut. You roll your hips and try to get more of him, more movement, following the heat pounding through your veins.

“Need more of my cock, baby, that’s what you need?”

“I need more of your cock,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering at the growing fire deep in your belly, “Please please please, Javi, plea—”

“You’re gonna come for me just like this, aren’t you?” his voice only amplifies the feeling, making your heart race, and then he rasps, “Fuck, baby, do it, let me feel you, let it go.”

You do.

It overtakes you, flooding you with pleasure, your whole body shaking from the force while Javi strums your clit fast and hard, cooing, “That’s it, mi conejita, that’s it, come for me baby. Doesn’t that feel good?”

You whimper and nod, unable to form words until your orgasm peters out and leaves you panting, staring up at him. He meets your gaze. His cock pulses inside you.

Seeing him like this, his hair all disheveled, skin dewy with sweat, dark eyes fiery and enamored…

“Come here,” you sit up on your elbow and bring a hand to his chin, coaxing him closer. He follows you down to the bed and kisses you with force, a groan vibrating on your tongue as you drag it against his.

He starts to roll his hips, filling you more and more with each thrust, the thick length of him electrifying your walls.

His lips don’t leave yours. Neither of you pull back to murmur filth to the other. The only noise in the room comes from your humid bodies pressing together, from whines and moans traded through panting breaths as you renew the kiss again and again.

You push back against his thrusts, digging your fingers into the broad expanse of his shoulders, losing yourself in the feel of him stretching you, the heat of his skin clinging to you, his mouth against yours.

Pleasure builds, hot and demanding, between your bodies. He fucks you faster, pumping into you at a frenzied pace that makes you gasp and nod, pulling you higher and higher. His hand grips your jaw and he stares down at you, searching your face, his puffy lips forming an ‘o’ as he watches your face contort.

Neither of you seem in control of the noises escaping you. They’re frantic and breathy and sharp.

At once, it’s like you’re sucked up into a vacuum. All the air evacuates your body and your muscles clench. The noises stop when you reach the crest of the wave, and when ecstasy crashes down, you let out a choked sob, convulsing around him. He groans, low and guttural, hips stuttering as he captures your lips in his and spills inside you.

A few languid kisses pass back and forth before he rolls off you. You follow the persuasion of his arm curling around your shoulders and tuck yourself into his side. He holds you here like this for a while, staring up at his ceiling while your breathing returns to normal, and eventually he asks, “Why was I your favorite?”

You shrug and watch your fingertips draw swirls into his chest, “You wanted me to be me, not your idea of me.”

He hums, grazing his thumb against your shoulder, then says, “I think that’s true for both of us.”

“Yeah?” you shift to meet his eyes.

He nods, dropping his gaze to your mouth. You draw closer to kiss him, slow and soft, and when your lips part, he murmurs, “Mi conejita.”

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x you #javier peña x ofc #javier peña narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character

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noirflms · 5 months

Text

୧ ˚₊ TWO SLOW DANCERS — gojo satoru

wherein gojo satoru finds himself standing before his once high school sweetheart — you.

does it smell like a school gymnasium in here?

gojo’s hates the smell of gymnasiums, it reeks of sweat that has spread throughout by young teenagers. it makes bile rise in his throat, the tie around his neck is choking him slowly. geto notices, for gojo’s lean fingers pull at the collar of his shirt. the two adults are away from the chattering and bustling crowd, sat in the corner of their old school gymnasium — it’s the class of 08’ gathered here.

geto’s eyes are watching and keen, they observe even the minuscule of sweat the seems to dribble down the side of gojo’s forehead, icy blue eyes obscured by dark sunglasses — it’s funny to geto that his dear friend wears such sunglasses even in the dark.

“you nervous or something?” the voice of geto brings gojo out of his terrible mind, but geto doesn’t meet the eyes of gojo, for they are set on an almost drunk shoko ( geto has to take her home after all. he promised her father to do so. ) the words of geto ease satoru, they only bring his thoughts to a halt, the smell of the gymnasium not a scare anymore.

it’s funny how they’re all the same

gojo’s eyes rake all over the crowd, none have changed, all stay the same, the faces he had once made fun of, had grown and matured yet there was no way he couldn’t recognise them. he remembers faces well, it’s all he ever did when he was in school, studies were a far dream from what his mischief got him to do.

he bites the inside of his cheek, watching as couples new and old dance away the night, geto once in a while makes a comment or two, both are single, not yet ready ( that is what gojo says, but geto is more than ready to have a family now. ) but the world of gojo satoru comes to an utter halt when his eyes settle on something within the crowd, he swallows when it’s the very colour he had come to hate so much — but a lie it was.

[h/c] hair that has stayed the same since the beginning of time, his heart begins to ache. you still look the same, not ageing a day old it seems, and he swallows at the mere sight of you, and it becomes funny how none have changed a single bit.

it’s funny how you always remember

you remember everyone in the crowd, words come effortlessly to you, they don’t die out in your throat as you talk to the faces which once had been your high school memories. a smile sits upon your features, it’s unfading, staying as it has once been upon your face just the same.

your eyes are observant, they don’t want to miss anybody — after all you had been the one to know everyone. but they come to utter halt when they settle upon icy blue eyes obscured by tinted black sunglasses, the white tuft of hair as messy as it has always been. the holder of the magnificent white hair still looks the same, the only thing is that he has grown old, he is no more the eighteen year old boy, awaiting outside your classroom to talk to you.

“gojo satoru?” you question approaching him, eyes doubting the one sitting before you, for you know he left you long in memory, but you remember everything and you find it humorous how you always remember, hurting yourself a bit by bit.

and we've both done it all a hundred times before

with the words that you have said, satoru is sent back in time, where he is eighteen again, a young lad who has his eyes trained on you. you stand before him with questions and sparkling eyes, you speak his name with the same lilt and his hazes his mind with thoughts of ever staying nostalgia, clouding his vision of you.

geto takes notice of you and what you do to satoru, but he’d wish you could have stopped the white haired man a little longer when you two were entering your twenties, geto wishes but he know that it was satoru himself who wished to leave you in dust, having an ego bigger than any could have.

but in satoru’s mind, this memory has passed by a hundred times and each time he shakes your hand with lovestruck eyes, but this time, there is a ache in his throat and a void where is heart is, “long time no see, [name].”

it’s funny how I still forgot

slow music echoes through the gymnasium, you look around and so does everyone, they begin to smile at their partners, taking their hand in theirs, and beginning to sway, you gulp at the sights, it doesn’t hurt, it just ignites a lost and naive memory, one you had tried your best to bury in the back of your mind.

but your eyes wander to the hand shoved in front of you, it looked calloused, your eyes trailing up to see who it belong to, even though you know, your heart eases at the sight of the tall male standing before you, hand outstretched for you to hold and take, “dance with me…”

and your hand slides within his, you feel the bumps that have formed upon his palm from rigorous work. he guides to the centre of the gymnasium, hand held tight. and so his throat constrict and seems to become alike that to a of barren land, a drought inside, for he finds it ridiculous how he has forgotten to have once danced with you like this, just the same.

it would be a hundred times easier if we were young again

and he thinks to himself maybe it would have been easier if you and him had been young once again. for then he would not be such a foolish man standing before you, and the young him would have held your hand and danced till the end of the night. the very thing that had once been enchanting in a way, would have been hundred times easier, if only he was young again.

he hold you close, slow dancing, reminiscing what could have been. you still look at him the same and becomes hard for him to digest, for satoru is guilty, as his eyes settle on the pendant that still sits so new upon your neck, it still looks the same, never trodding, it stayed the same, you kept it and it only becomes a large blow to his ego, and as it falters, he wishes to become young again.

to be eighteen again, gift you this pendant again, hold your hand again, kiss your lips again but for now he’d relish in what the present brings, and enjoy it before the night ends and he forgets what you had once been to him.

but as it is and it is

until then he’d dance to this slow music that plays. he’d hold onto your hand and not let go, he’d be wise this time and look into your eyes, he’d be sure this time and give you a gift of a lifetimes.

he’d let it be as it is, unchanging, yet he’d hold onto this moment he has gotten to spend with you. there are words which bubble up in his throat, those he wishes to say, but they die down when you shake your head, and he wonder how you know, but you always know what he has to say, and so he’ll think to himself you know he is sorry.

he hopes you know he wishes nothing more than to be yours again, but he will let this moment be as it is and it is, letting it become memory when night ends, dancing and swaying with you a bit teary eyed for his heart aches, still longing to have stayed.

we're just two slow dancers, last ones out

he relives the very thing he once had with you and so do you, trying to relive it within the dance and music, trying his best onto holding onto it before you part ways but he knows it will only be him aching the most through it all, he would be the only mess through it all, for he knows he has hurt you enough.

but until the time will come he will slow dance with you. trying to cherish the memories being made for he knows there will never be nothing out of this all, dancing till his breath runs out, dancing till you two are the only ones left behind, dancing till he has this moment ingrained in his mind that he never forgets.

you two will just be two slow dancers, trying to figure out that this young love would not come back, and that the past love will be nothing but that of memory, but you two will slowly dance, enjoying and living the young dream again, but only this time you’ve grown old, brought to this last stage again.

so, you’ll slow dance, until the night comes to an end.

we’re two slow dancers, last ones out

a late birthday post for him <333

#౨ৎ ⋆˚｡⋆ 𝒔.tamped #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo scenario #gojo imagine #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #mitski

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folkloresthings · 8 months

Note

hello lovely!! can i request NORTHANGER ABBEY with carlos and exes to lovers? thank you 💌

ugh yes??? second chance romance my fave

SECOND CHANCE. ❨ carlos sainz x reader ❩

✩⡱ warnings: slight sexual buildup but no smut

when people asked you what happened between carlos sainz and yourself, you never really had an answer. it had been a strange breakup, one that built and built over months, and then broke in the space of one night. you had wanted different things. you were ready to settle down, get a house, commit to starting a family. but carlos was at the peak of his career — his main focus was on racing. you needed more than he could give.

the actual fight had been a catastrophe. him shouting, you crying, doors slammed. the cool down consisted of him on his knees, grabbing at your legs on the couch, trying to reason. but you knew you couldn’t stay, it was pointless. so you left. you packed your bags and left the next morning. three years, all for nothing.

it had been just over a year since that terrible day, and you hadn’t heard from carlos once. you kept up with his races, still fully supporting him. you didn’t hate each other — and it only made things so much harder.

“come on, you deserve a break!” your best friend insisted, clicking button after button and booking your trip before you could even argue.

monaco. you hadn’t been back since you left carlos, and the prospect scared you. but you braved the memories, distracting yourself with your girlfriends and anything you could. you spent your days on the beach, your nights in clubs and cocktail bars. for some reason, amongst it all, you’d forgotten carlos still lived here.

nipping out one afternoon to pay a visit to your old favourite bakery, your mind was clear. a coffee and your favourite pastry in hand, you were actually happy. enjoying yourself. until you bumped into a figure that smelled an awful lot like your ex—boyfriend.

“mierda, sorry—” he grabbed your forearms, steadying you both. freezing, his eyes meet yours and he falls silent. you can’t stop staring at him, not really believing that he was real. actually there, close enough to touch, for the first time in a year.

“hi.” it leaves you in one breath. carlos smiles, glancing between you and the bakery.

“back for an apple pastry?” he teases and you turn sheepish, cheeks burning. “i didn’t know you were in town.”

“just for a vacation,” you tell him, only realising then that he’s still got a hold of you, chests practically pressed together. you clear your throat, stepping back. you had pictured this moment so many times, what you would say, and now it was done. the moment gone and you wished you could go back and do it a little better.

carlos nods, taking all of you in. you looked… amazing. your skin was glowing, thanks to a few days in the sun. you were still as beautiful as the day he met you. you were even prettier in real life, rather than the images that plagued carlos’ mind every night.

“how long are you here for?” he asks, and your brows raise. you knew where this was going, but you didn’t have the power to stop it.

“until monday.” three more days. “why?”

“no, no reason. maybe we could… catch up? i’ll make you dinner. your favourite pasta,” he offers, blinking down at you with those big brown eyes, and how can you say no?

he’s got a new apartment now, and you’re glad, because you’re not sure you could face the home you shared together. you knock twice before he lets you in, taking your coat and pouring your favourite wine. the pasta he always used to make for you simmers on the stove, the smells taking you back to your date nights together.

“it’s as good as ever,” you tell him after your first bite, nostalgia filling your taste buds. carlos smiles proudly. he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since you stepped through the door, your cheeks constantly tinted pink.

still, the conversation was flowing like no time had passed, like nothing had happened between you. you’d been together for three whole years, it was easy to fall back into that routine again. a glass of wine or so later, you were curled up on the couch, telling him about everything that happened at christmas — the first christmas he hadn’t been to since you first got together.

somewhere between your mother’s roast potato meltdown and your grandfather’s six glasses of whiskey, his hand had found it’s way to your thigh, warm and big. your breath hitched, eyes warning as they dart to his.

“carlos…” you whisper, feeling yourself slip the closer he gets.

“mi alma,” he counters, his other hand grazing across your brow, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“we shouldn’t. we can’t,” you insist, but you sound less convincing than you intend. his hot breath ghosts over your lips, his taste so close.

“tell me to stop, and i will,” carlos meets your eyes, wide and pleading. he needs you, he’s needed you for twelve months. “one word and i’m done.”

your lips open, ready to speak, but nothing comes out. you can’t say no, because you don’t want to. any logic is gone from your mind, flooded with a love that never really went away.

in a moment, carlos presses his lips to yours. both of you fall into each other, fall into what you know so well. hands grasping at your clothes, teeth clashing and tongues hot, trying to get impossibly close. it was dizzying. carlos had always been a good kisser, but a starved man savoured his first meal like it was heaven sent.

his hands dipped lower, slipping under your top and to the warm skin underneath. palming at your chest, teasing but desperate, lips dipping to suck at the supple flesh of your throat. he pulls whines from you like an expert, your fingers grasping at the mess of brown locks upon his head. it’s longer now, you like it.

“wait, wait,” you mutter, pushing him back by the chest. so many thoughts running through your head, but it goes blank when he looks at you. pupils blown wide, hair messy, lips wet and swollen. he’s angelic, a sculpture on display in the finest of museums.

carlos finds the hesitation in your eyes and sighs. “i know.”

“what are we doing?” you groan, head falling against his shoulder. his thumb rubs at your back, comforting you coming as second nature. “i can’t just — fuck you and pretend like it never happened. i’ve been trying to get over you for a year now, and this just sets everything back.”

“did you?” he asks, unsure if he wants to know the answer. “get over me?”

“no,” you sigh, answering a little too quickly. “i don’t know if i ever will.”

carlos softens, more so if possible, hands smoothing all over you. “i love you. i always have, i always will. i’ll do whatever it takes, just — can we try again?”

you look at him, his pleading eyes and tight grip. he does love you, you’ve know that in your gut for a while now. he’d loved you so hard when you were together, with everything that he was. just because you broke up doesn’t mean that disappears.

“carlos, we want different things…” you begin into the same argument you had a year ago, and he cuts you off with another kiss.

“i don’t care. i’ll compromise, i’ll do whatever you want. we can get married tomorrow, if it’s what you want,” he professes, cupping your cheeks. you stare at him in shock, his profession of love coming crashing down.

“we’re not getting married tomorrow,” you laugh breathlessly, taking his hands in yours. “but… we can try again tomorrow, start over.”

hope fills him, a bright smile painting his face as he kisses you, again and again. maybe not tomorrow, but he knew he was going to marry you someday. sooner, rather than later.

“i love you so much, carlos.”

“i love you even more, cariño.”

#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k!#🌙 ﹐ drabbles.#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz instagram edit #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz blurb #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz

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burningupp · 2 months

Text

twenty-one: nostalgia for a moment not yet passed

<<< masterlist >>>

Hyunjin had texted her in the morning to ask if she would be at the office that day. Luck was on his side, because she was. He refused to elaborate more on his plan after his question, other than letting her know that they would go somewhere together - something that made Y/n somewhat anxious. He knew that it did, which is why he made sure to emphasize how mild and unsurprising his “surprise” even was. After knowing him for the better part of six months, she decided that he definitely had nothing but her best interest at heart and thus chastised her anxious mind, doing her best to move past the feeling. She somewhat succeeded, but there was that small nagging voice in her mind that wouldn’t leave her alone throughout the day.

Thankfully, as soon as Hyunjin came up to her outside the cafeteria around lunch, most of her anxiety melted away. He was smiling so gently at her, offering a cautious hug as a greeting. His strong arms around her soothed her more than she was willing to admit, and in combination with his scent, it was the most safe she had felt in a while.

“Hi ba- Y/n.”

The way he stuttered made her smile even more, looking up at him as he let her go. His ears were tinted a slight red, his eyes carefully resting on her face, taking in her every reaction. His hands subconsciously followed her body away from him, a gentle hold that didn’t force her to be anywhere she didn’t want to be. She felt safe.

“Hey Hyunjin,” she said, looking away from his eyes self-consciously. She didn’t do too great with eye contact, not even with Chan, so Hyunjin didn’t take the movement to heart. He simply smiled a little wider at how adorable he found her. He quickly hid the smile as soon as she looked back up at him, hoping his feelings were at least a little hidden away from her glistening gaze. “So why did you want to talk to me?”

At her words, the long-haired man couldn’t help but grin wider again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He was teasing, but quickly amended his statement. “It’s fine, it’s just in the company building. No other people, I swear.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered at his words, at the care he took to not only reassure her, but to plan his “surprise” to be as comfortable for her as possible. She blinked a few times, trying to calm her heart. She subconsciously started playing with her friend’s fingers, something that made his own heart speed up in turn. He hoped she would never stop.

“Oh? Are we going now?” she asked as soon as he started tugging on her hand. “What about lunch?”

“I’ve got it covered,” he answered gently, stopping in front of the elevator and pressing the button with his free hand. To his delight, she was still stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. He felt like he could fly. “Of course, if you want to eat with your colleagues or something-”

“I would like to eat with you,” she answered, blinking up at him again. His chest felt tight. “I-if that’s okay, of course…”

Hyunjin studied her form as she almost folded in on herself. She had a habit of making herself as small as possible, he’d noticed. He found it endearing at the same time that he hated it; someone like her should walk around with her head held high, their pride evident and aura glowing. But the way she was standing was just so… her. He could imagine Seungmin gagging at his thoughts.

“I would love nothing more,” Hyunjin started, eyes trained on her intently, “than to have lunch with you, Y/n.”

Her heart almost stopped. Or did it jump out of her chest? She couldn’t tell the difference anymore. All she knew was that her fingers were tingling and that she couldn’t look away from Hyunjin even if she tried, but neither of those things were really new. She honestly found comfort in the sensations at this point.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something, the elevator doors slid open. Luckily no one was in there, because neither of them would have been able to handle the awkwardness. Instead they were able to step into the small space, hands still entwined as Hyunjin pressed the button for his desired floor.

The doors slid shut slowly, and Hyunjin stepped back against the wall as close to Y/n as he could be without encroaching too much on her personal space. She didn’t notice the way she leaned against the taller man’s body, her once free hand now also clasping his bigger one in both of hers. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he wasn’t supposed to in case he disturbed the moment.

She slowly uncovered his hand and straightened out his fingers, laying her own palm flat against his with a curious look on her face. Upon seeing the difference in size she almost gasped, looking up at him with a fascinated gaze that Hyunjin swore would kill him stone dead.

“I never noticed how big your hands are,” she murmured gently.

As if she suddenly noticed what she had done (that was exactly what happened) she dropped his hand quickly, her cheeks burning. She mumbled an apology under her breath, starting to pick at her nails in order to have an excuse to look away from him. Not being able to stand her pulling away from him, her friend grabbed her hand gently in his again, entwining their fingers again. She stared at the floor to avoid his gaze, which only made Hyunjin’s chest contract more. God damn it, he wanted to kiss her so bad.

The thought had just entered his mind, gripped his entire body tight, when the elevator came to a stop. The doors slid open, revealing none other than Chan and Minho. Y/n’s eyes widened comically, as did Hyunjin’s, and she quickly let go of his hand in a panic. She missed it immediately.

“Hey Y/n,” Chan smiled gently, stepping aside a bit to allow the pair to slip past into the hallway behind him. “You doing okay there?”

“I-I’m fine,” she breathed in reply, shooting a quick glare her friend’s way. She loved him to death, but he sucked sometimes.

“Great. Have fun.”

Neither she nor Hyunjin saw his smirk, but they heard it in his voice. They also heard Han Jisung’s exorbitantly loud laughter as the doors were closing. Hyunjin was going to murder him. He glanced at his friend, seeing her a lot more tense than she had been not even ten seconds ago. He slowly, gently reached out and grasped her hand again, leaving enough room for her to pull away if she wanted to. She didn’t. Their hands felt so right grasping each other, and Hyunjin found himself already dreading having to let it go again.

“Come on,” he said through a gentle smile, and she was helpless. All she could do was follow him through the corridors of the company they both worked for. She pushed the thought away.

He walked with purpose, but never faster than what was comfortable for her. She was spacing out the entire way, thoughts of him and the absolute comfort she was feeling pulling her thoughts up into the clouds. Their hands were hanging between them, entwined and relaxed, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. They’d never actually held hands before that day, and Y/n found herself almost sad that they had waited so long to do it. It was comforting.

As they came to a stop, Y/n finally came back to reality. She blinked at the door to the practice room, one of the smaller ones used to practice dancing. She turned to look at him, but he just grinned and opened the door for her. She brushed past him through the door.

“I don’t understand why you-”

Her words fell away as soon as she spotted the blanket in the middle of the floor. The lights had been slightly dimmed compared to the usual bright glare from the spotlights in the ceiling, and in the middle of the blanket on the floor was a pile of snacks next to a bag from her favorite take-out place.

She raised a hand to her mouth, turning around to look at Hyunjin who couldn’t stop himself from smiling once he saw the unapologetic sparkles in her eyes, directed at him. He felt light-headed, in a really good way. As did she.

“Hyunjin,” she breathed after a second, “it’s- you did this for me?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “I know you had a rough time recently, and we haven’t been seeing too much of each other, so… Picnic.” The way he was grinning from ear to ear rendered her unable to stop her own, identical grin from blossoming on her face.

She studied him for a moment, eyes still glittering at him like he had saved her life, before she dropped his hand. He was about to complain about it when she pressed close to his body, still in the doorway, and gently allowed her lips to graze his cheek. He was breathing so shallowly he might as well have been holding his breath.

“Thank you,” she breathed at him, and he wanted to break down and cry. She was so beautiful, so important to him, and she didn’t even know it. Fuck. He was down so incredibly atrociously bad, it wasn’t even funny anymore.

He swallowed, regarding her with an expression full of adoration. She could almost feel it in the air, becoming a bit breathless, too. “Anytime,” he breathed back.

Eventually, Y/n bit her lip and turned back to the surprise he had prepared for her so meticulously. She slowly approached the picnic blanket and sat down, Hyunjin following closely. He was convinced she would disappear in a puff of smoke, should he look away for even a second. She was too good to be true.

They ate the food together, discussing everything between heaven and Earth. She learned a lot about his members, as she always did on their rare hang-outs. She laughed almost the entire way through, and Hyunjin couldn’t be happier than he was in that very moment. Making her happy was something that made him happy, who would have thought?

“Wow,” she sighed as she put down her takeout container. She looked at his face for a long moment, almost as if she was trying to memorize it all. “I’m gonna miss you when I go back to the Twice team in three weeks.”

All of Hyunjin’s happiness came crashing down around him. He was going to have to be without her again? He had hoped to have so much more time with her. The whole picnic thing had been his first attempt at courting her the way she deserved, a series of special moments between just the two of them that would eventually lead to her hopefully calling him hers. There would be no bigger honor, he thought.

But of course, he couldn’t have that. None of his plans ever went to… well, to plan. Fuck.

“Has it already been five months?” he asked incredulously, eyes wide and cheeks full of food. Her giggle at his expression made him feel marginally better, even when she nodded and confirmed his fear. He swallowed quickly. “I’m gonna miss you too, you know.”

The room suddenly fell into silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was kind of… sad? No, not sad. They were happy. They were just feeling nostalgic for a moment that had yet to be over. Nostalgic for the time that they had spent together so far, the feelings that the other person still was too dense to see. It ached, for both of them.

“Mm, bet you’ll be glad to have Kyeongmi eonnie back though,” she responded after a few seconds of the heavy silence. He snorted. “What?” she laughed.

“I love noona, but she thinks of me as an extremely annoying mosquito or something, I swear.”

The silence was broken by laughter again, and though the mirth was back in both of their eyes, there was something deeper there, too. Something unsaid, that would remain as such for a bit longer. Just a bit, Hyunjin promised himself. The short timeframe he suddenly had to work with had thrown him off, but he refused to let it defeat him; he would still tell her, in a way as spectacular as his feelings for her. He swore it.

<<< masterlist >>>

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mncxbe · 5 months

Note

mhmmm, maybe stargazing together with Bram while listening too calm music? Tbh anything relaxing will do it for me ✿ (´ ᴗ｀) (here is a flower for u) Also if you do write for him, can you add that he has his full body (never thought id say something like that (｡･･｡) )

Sorry that i didn't see ur new post sooner, i was talking w friends <33

tysm for the flower sending one right back♡🌷 this was so sweet to write really melted my heart + I was listening to say yes to heaven while rereading it. perfect combo. hope you like it♡♡

°☆○

Stargazing

𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒎 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡/ he's prettier than the stars

It's been a while since Bram has last spent a night gazing up at something other than the wooden lid of his coffin, so being here with you under the starry sky felt like his new heaven.

The little, glimmering dots of light adorning the darkness above reminded him of home, his castle back in Northern Europe, the life that has been taken for him. As if sensing his nostalgia, you gently intertwined your fingers with his atop the fluffy blanket on the ground.

"You like it, Bram?" you asked softly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you peered up at him through your lashes. He simply noded in response, raising your hand to his lips to place a kiss to your knuckles.

"Mo ghrá, it's truly wonderful. Thank you for bringing me here"

His gaze returned to the sky as he relished his newly found freedom, unaware of the little surprise you planned for him. You reached for your jacket, procuring your earphones and quickly connected them to your phone.

"Hold your hand out for me, love" you asked merrily and he complied, his brows quirking in confusion when you placed one of the earbuds in the plam of his hand.

Your partner inspected the strange object, holding it between his thumb and index finger "What's this supposed to be?"

"It's an earphone, Bram. Put it in your ear"

He obeyed, placing the object in his ear and immediately tensed up at the sound of the music flowing through it.

"Incredible" he uttered in disbelief "I knew Aya had something similar to this, but hers were connected through a wire. How does this work?"

"It's called bluetooth, honey" you giggled and laid down on the soft, checkered blanket, pulling him down by your side.

Bram rested beside you, slim legs entangling with yours as you shifted closer to him and placed your head on his chest. He prayed you couldn't hear his erratic heartbeat, the light hitch of his breath when you traced your thumb along his jawline.

"You're so pretty, Bram" you said softly, his chest swelling with love at the sound of your words "Prettier than the stars"

"You flatter me, mo ghrá, but the same goes to you." One of his hands tilted your chin up so that your face was level with his, scarlet gaze lingering on your lips "You're more beautiful than a thousand constellations falling into place, my darling" His thumb brushed lightly over your lower lip before you leaned in, kissing him briefly.

Pulling away, you rested your head back on his chest. Bram's arm wrapped tightly around you, pulling you flush against his frame. The music kept spilling into his soul, a melancholic, romantic tune that lulled him into a state of pure bliss; his brain felt fuzzy, as if he were drunk on your soothing presence.

You spent the next couple of hours like this, cuddled up against one another. From time to time, Bram pointed at different stars and constellations, telling you all sorts of myths and legends that coaxed you into a dreamy state. It was beyond peaceful, beyond serene; any notion of time besides the clockwork change of songs lost into the darkness of the night. Other-wordly. All that was left was you and him.

Surprisingly enough, Bram wasn't sleepy at all- he remained wide awake until the break of dawn. Only when the first rays of light creeped up on the horizon, washing away the gleaming stars and tinting the sky a peachy pink did he shake you gently, waking you up from your short slumber.

"Mo ghrá, wake up. It's time to go home" he said softly as you rose your head from his chest, lips stretching into a sleepy smile.

"Already? Damn... I must've fallen asleep. 'm sorry love"

You looked so pretty like this, droopy eyes and languid smile, face rosy-hued by the rising sun. He cupped your cheek and pressed his lip against your forehead. "Don't worry, I'm just glad you were here with me tonight"

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd bram #bram x reader #bram bsd

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

Text

Aftertaste.

Yan Diluc x F!Reader x Yan Kaeya.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, alcohol, implied drugging. Word count: 4.5k.

CHAPTER I OF III // The Dinner.

Some places lose their splendor as you age; when the rose-tinted glasses of childhood ultimately succumb to reality.

Nostalgia tricks you into believing the past is better than it ever was. There’s no harm in willingly falling for these lapses in truth, as far as you were concerned. So what if a snack you swore by in your youth did little for your developed taste buds, or a book you strained your eyes by flickering candlelight barely held your attention any longer? Those memories still had a special place in your heart regardless of your inability to recreate them.

While this could apply to many aspects of your younger years, there was an outlier that stood the test of time.

That outlier being Dawn Winery.

It was a breathtaking sight then and a breathtaking sight now. A paradise tucked away in the nook of Mondstadt, concealed by trees that always wore autumn’s colors. Stubby legs used to carry you through the foliage, past the watchful gaze of the Anemo Archon’s statue, and by the windwheel asters that whistled in the breeze. Workers in the fields would call out to you by name, welcoming you in kind. The very first few times you arrived, they’d tell you where you might find the two young masters, but they quickly learned there was no need. You were always curious to see if it’d be a head of fiery red or icy blue that’d rush to greet you first.

Smiling softly to yourself, you walk the same path that you would then, past the Dawn Winery sign that welcomes its guests.

It’s evening, so most of the workers have settled into the nearby cottages after a hard day’s work. Candlelight from their window sills bathes the endless sea of grapevines in a soft glow, rivaled only by the luminescence of crystal flies dancing in the air. Smoke wafts from their chimneys, the scent of firewood and the tartness of grapes intermingle to form a perfect blend. It smells familiar.

It smells like home.

The dirt path beneath your feet gives way to cobblestone, kept up to order so that no moss or weeds may grow between the cracks. There’s light inside, but little chatter, a far cry from when Master Crepus would welcome any excuse to host a wide array of events. In those days, it was said that laughter and the popping of corks could be heard from miles away.

You always found this to be an exaggeration born from intrigue in Mondstadt’s most noteworthy nobles, but there were kernels of truth in the claim. It wasn’t uncommon for you to run into people from all corners of Teyvat who came to enjoy Dawn Winery’s luxuries. Businessmen from Liyue, Shogunate officials from Inazuma, scholars from Sumeru… it was an undeniable hub for activity. Now, with Master Diluc at the helm, it’s far quieter. Still, as if stuck in a permanent state of inertia. A once roaring stream that no longer sees ripples across the water.

Your knock on the wooden door. From muscle memory alone, you’re tempted to fall into the peculiar rhythm of a knock the three of you devised. The tempo remains as fresh in your memory as ever. One knock, a pause, then two following in quick succession. This was your little secret that no one else outside your circle was privy to.

The face that greets you belongs to Adelinde.

“Welcome back, Miss [First],” she greets, both her tone and posture professional. Then, a slight crack in the façade reveals the mirth in her eyes. “It is good to see you again. Please, do come in. Master Diluc has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

You fight the urge to laugh at the picture in your head such a comment paints. Diluc Ragnvindr, Mondstadt’s wine tycoon and name of world renown, impatiently checking the time so it may move faster and gazing longingly toward the horizon for you? Flattering as the sentiment is, you sincerely doubt its credibility. It would appear Adelinde’s strange sense of humor hasn’t changed.

You’re quick to learn that very little has changed regarding the manor’s interior as well. The warm ambiance from the chandeliers overhead, towering walls of mahogany, and sprawling red carpets extending further than the circumference of your entire apartment. Classiness all but emanates from every visible surface. Although you know the manor’s layout by heart, Adelinde still guides you to the dining room, making occasional small talk along the way. Falling into conversation with her comes as natural as breathing.

“So, no reservations about being entirely on your own in a new place then?” Adelinde questions as you both turn a corner.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous,” you reply. She shoots you a look of concern, so you quickly follow this up by adding, “It’s nothing I can’t handle, though! So long as I have the stars above to serve as my guide, I’m confident I can get through anything.”

“Anything, huh…?” She trails off with a hum. You finally arrive at the doors separating this hall from the opulent dining room. “I sure hope so.”

Before you get the chance to ask her what she means by that, she thrusts open the doors, then announces your arrival as if you were the esteemed guest of honor at a banquet. In a way, you suppose you were. It just felt bizarre to go through so many formalities in the same room you used to sneak your and Kaeya’s vegetables onto an unsuspecting Diluc’s plate. Much has changed since those idyllic days. The most extreme example is the one who currently stands from his position at the head of the table upon your arrival.

It’s been some time since you’ve seen him in person. Following the untimely passing of Master Crepus, Diluc became a wandering specter, intangible and impossible to pin down. You’d kept up a regular correspondence in the form of letters, but even that was spaced out through long stretches of time. You were never given a definitive answer about what exactly it is he does during his travels. The topic never seemed to interest him nearly as much as the going-ons in your life, which you insisted to be perfectly mundane compared to his global trotting.

Alas, upon hearing about the next upcoming chapter in your life, he returned home so he could see you off himself. He said you deserve nothing less.

Diluc’s physiognomy isn’t as carefree as it was in his youth, but there’s still a certain playfulness to him that most fail to pick up on. Many would frequently come and ask how to get in his good graces, for a friendship with Diluc practically guaranteed success with business across the board. From afar, he could come off as intimidating, largely owing to his near-constant frown even amidst the most jubilant atmosphere. Your advice was always the same. Treat him like you would any other and hold Mondstadt’s best interest at heart. He is less grave than most people give him credit for.

Case in point: when Adelinde is dismissed, you give him an unnecessarily deep curtsy while proclaiming, “Good evening, greatly revered Master Diluc. How kind of you to carve out time in your schedule for a lowborn peasant such as I.”

You can practically hear his eyes rolling, but still, he entertains you, though with significantly less theatrics. “It’s a necessary sacrifice, I’m afraid. How else can I maintain appearances?”

When your eyes finally meet, a chorus of memories sounds in your mind. From long summer days playing hide and seek in the vineyard to winters spent curled up by the hearth drinking apple cider. As always, the lull of nostalgia is tempting to submerge yourself and remain trapped in. You never know if you should mourn what was lost or thank the Archons above for what remains. It’s this surge of sentimentality that encourages you to wrap your arms around Diluc, who, despite knowing he should expect the unexpected in your presence, is taken aback.

He’s as warm as one might expect.

He grunts in surprise, the force behind your embrace almost enough to knock him back. After ensuring you’re secure, he reciprocates the gesture, his hands hesitantly landing on your lower back before ghosting upward. The fabric of his dark coat is surprisingly soft against your cheek. He smells of fine leather and firewood. You hear his breath hitch, presumably from how unused he is to affection. He’s been that way. He’d never initiate physical contact yet happily reciprocated when you did.

“I’ve missed you, Diluc,” you admit after pulling back. He coughs into his hand. “It’s been far too long. Don’t get me wrong, your penmanship is lovely, but nothing beats having you in the flesh.”

His oh-so-famous frown makes an appearance. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I do plan to be around more often, since it’s almost harvest season—”

Diluc cuts himself off prematurely upon noticing how your shoulders droop. He parts his lips as if thinking to correct his mistake, preparing to verbally acknowledge the reality that you’re leaving, but no sound comes out. It would seem he met his match. Diluc, who could gracefully deflect any insult from business competitors acting in bad faith, was rendered speechless by what wasn’t even a surprise. You’d broken the news to him weeks in advance — it’s the very reason he’s hosting this send-off dinner in the first place.

For after many years of trying and receiving complete silence in response, the Sumeru Akademiya has finally accepted you into their ranks. Come tomorrow morning, you’re officially heading out to join the Rtawahist Darshan. The fulfillment of a lifelong dream is surreal in the best and worst of ways.

You’ll be leaving home — leaving your two dearest lifelong friends — but you’ll be gaining plenty as well.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” A new voice pipes up from behind, low and mischievous.

Immediately, you turn on your heel, your face lighting up at the sight of a familiar Cavalry Captain. You waste no time striding over to greet him; Diluc is almost unable to detach himself from your person fast enough to prevent you from tripping. Kaeya Alberich gives you his winning smile, his arms already wide and ready to accept you, which he does with great enthusiasm. Before you realize it, you’re hoisted off the ground. He spins you around as if you were weightless. Right as you think he’ll put you back down, his grin takes a malicious edge, and you’re sent gliding through the air again.

“Keep it up and I’ll get sick, Kaeya,” you manage to get out in between your fits of laughter.

“I’m calling your bluff,” he replies without hesitation. “Your constitution is stronger than that.”

Playfully aghast, you reply, “Is that a risk worth taking?”

“There’s nothing I love more than a good gamble. Well, almost nothing.”

Your banter is cut short by the sound of Diluc rather loudly clearing his throat. At this disruption, Kaeya offers clemency, helping you back down and lending his shoulder until you’re steady again. Unlike Diluc, Kaeya wears notable cologne. It has woody notes but is primarily spicy at its base. Since you happen across Kaeya in Mondstadt often, you’re familiar with his scent, to the point you can immediately pick up on an unusual underlying aroma. You’re unable to place what it might be. However, it reminds you of the laboratory your hermit-like friend Sucrose spent all her time in.

“You’re late,” Diluc points out in an unimpressed monotone.

“Fashionably late, I believe the term is,” Kaeya retaliates, still holding you steady while you regain your balance. “Believe it or not, I actually have a good excuse. There were some matters on your end that I got stuck cleaning up. Quite the time sink. Trust me, I wouldn’t be late for such an important occasion as this if it was up to me.”

“Oh? Are you actually collaborating with the Knights on something, Diluc?” You inquire, the notion stupefying considering their turbulent history. The aforementioned male crosses his arms over his chest and then gives Kaeya a near-scathing look. You’re not the one on the receiving end of his ire, and still, the hairs on the back of your neck stand from the brewing tension.

“… No. Let’s leave it at that, Kaeya.”

Kaeya puts his hands up in defense, but by the wicked smirk on his lips, you get the sense he’ll fan the flames rather than extinguish them.

“Duly noted, Master Diluc. Well then! Dinner awaits, does it not? Ah, and what a spread it will be. I’m glad I wasn’t held up for too long. Let’s dig in before Adelinde learns we allowed her feast to get cold.”

Kaeya has always been one to let matters go like water off a duck’s back, but that rarely applied when Diluc was thrown in the mix. The two seemingly lived for discreetly and not so discreetly flinging insults at every opportunity. That’s why you can hardly believe your eyes at how quick Kaeya is to concede, dropping the subject instead of prolonging it painfully. Could it be that they want to be on their best behavior for your farewell dinner? You already knew you were asking a lot from them both, especially Diluc. The letter he sent confirming his acceptance of Kaeya’s attendance almost had palpable dark energy to it. Never would you have braved asking this of them if not for the star’s consultation, scrying for hours on end.

Notcua and Pavo Ocellus.

You examined their constellations with great care, along with your own — Cygnus. For as far back as you could remember, the three were interwoven closer than the threads of a tapestry. While light from the stars is far apart regardless of how close they appear, their constellations always illuminate yours, affecting your readings. This bizarre phenomenon was the main catalyst that inspired you to pursue astrology beyond a hobby. Usually, you could never get a clear reading on Notcua and Pavo Ocellus. However, the stars promised that the two would be amiable the night before you were to depart. It was hazy, yet you wanted to place your trust in it.

And sure enough, they both accepted your request to share your final dinner in Mondstadt together without much fuss.

The three of you sit and the first course is served.

For the most part, you and Kaeya do the talking. He speaks about strange sightings of a massive beast in the sky that has put the Knights on high alert, then how he caught Ellin training with a bucket on her head ‘in case she must ever fight in the dark.’ Meanwhile, you mention the thoughtful gifts you’ve received in the past week. A bomb from Klee ‘to help in your studies’, herbs for the inevitable headaches from Lisa, fine writing implements whose ink flowed on paper like water from Jean. Amber also asked for you to give a little handmade baron bunny to Collei upon passing through the Avidya Forest. Diluc remains notably silent while you speak, but Kaeya is quick to pitch in when given the chance.

“Without your divinations, it’s only a matter of time before Klee burns the Knights’ Headquarters down,” Kaeya laments, accentuating the words with a sigh. “The Grandmaster will return from his expedition to find nothing but rubble and ash. I suppose you wouldn’t mind that, would you, Master Diluc?”

You both turn your head in his direction upon his lack of response.

Earlier, you were so inundated with your conversation that you hadn’t noticed he’d barely touched the food on his plate. You can’t imagine the meal wasn’t to his liking, both you and Kaeya utterly devoured it. Frowning, you hope that you didn’t upset him by speaking about leaving so haphazardly. There was an almost therapeutic quality to pretending it won’t bring any of you pain, a charade that the Cavalry Captain freely went along with. Diluc was never as cavalier about problems as the two of you were. He brooded over issues, Kaeya pretended like they were never there, and you threw yourself into fixing the unfixable. That’s how it’s always been.

“... Tell me, [First],” Diluc’s stare feels like it could pierce right through you. “Are you sure this is what you want? To leave Mondstadt, I mean?”

To leave us, remains unspoken. To leave me.

“Diluc, I doubt now is hardly the best time to—”

“Let her answer,” Diluc interrupts Kaeya, who presses his lips in a thin line. “I want to hear what she has to say.”

Kaeya leans back into his chair, smiles weakly at your worried glance, and motions for you to go on with his hand. Your eyes dart between them and the sudden grim twist to their expressions. Kaeya does a better job at hiding it, but not by much, you know him well enough to see through the various masks he prepares for every possible situation. You suppose such a question was inevitable. It cuts as deep as a knife, twisting and churning your insides enough to almost make good on your mention of getting sick earlier.

The spotlight is yours and you have a captive audience.

“I’ve asked myself the same thing ever since I received the acceptance letter,” your voice comes out stronger than you expected. You take a deep breath to keep it that way. “Mondstadt is my home. You guys… are my home. I used to be sad whenever my mom and dad told me they were going off on a new adventure, but after I met you guys, I learned that meant I’d get to go on an adventure of my own. Really, I learned a lot from you both.”

You bunch up the material of your skirt on your lap. “For the longest time, I didn’t understand why the Akademiya didn’t even bother to send a rejection letter after I sent in all those applications. It’s discouraging to know you aren’t good enough, but it’s even worse when you don’t know why. I’d often consider just giving up. But then I’d remember… I’d remember the two of you.”

“There I’d be, throwing a pity party for myself, when you’d both weathered storms I could barely fathom. And no matter what happened, you managed to keep going,” you give a derisive chuckle. “So I’d try again. And again. And again. Because as much as I love my home, I love to learn, and the stars in Sumeru are bound to look different from how they appear here.”

No one speaks for a while following that.

The pendulum of the grandfather clock swings back and forth while you gnaw on your lower lip, refusing to let the waterworks flow. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry, not in front of them, that’s the last thing you wanted to be remembered by before you left. It would bring the mood down to a level so low, that not even the silver-tongued Cavalry Captain could fix it.

Diluc loosens the collar around his neck, a nervous tic. “I apologize — I didn’t mean to call your resolve into question.”

“Ah, no, not at all,” you scramble to smooth over any possible tensions, your hands flailing around, “I should be the one saying sorry, I, um, didn’t mean to go off on such a tangent there.”

You follow this up with an awkward laugh that soon dies off in your throat.

Kaeya chimes in next. “There’s no need to apologize. Talking beats sitting with your mouth shut and looking all distant and brooding.”

You cover your mouth to hide the chortle Kaeya’s not-so-subtle dig at Diluc earns. A few tears manage to slip past your defenses, though before they can slide down the groove of your cheek, Kaeya pats it dry with a handkerchief. Your eyes widen as he holds your chin steady with one hand and does away with your tears using the other. The tenderness might have made you cry harder if not for how taken aback you were.

“My dense brother does have a nasty habit of making you cry, doesn’t he?” Kaeya hums. “Let me try to translate his words using a bit more tact. The world as we know it is becoming a scarier place and Sumeru is so far away. There’s the Withering, general tensions between those who live in the desert and those who don’t, and a whole bunch of other things I’m sworn to keep confidential. I’m not trying to say you can’t take care of yourself — you most certainly can — it’s just something to consider.”

Diluc nods his head, seemingly approving of Kaeya’s take on the issue.

“I understand your concern, but really, try not to worry yourself gray on my account. I made thorough preparations for tomorrow’s trip with the caravan. I want to do this. I know I can do this.”

“Did you catch that, Master Diluc?” Kaeya relinquishes his hold on you and tucks his handkerchief away. “[First]’s given us her final answer. We have to respect that.”

“I’m aware.”

You almost let out a sigh of relief, presuming the topic will be dropped. You’ve done plenty of worrying about both of them, so you understand the sentiment; the pressure was getting to be overwhelming. You expected some overprotectiveness from Diluc, just not from Kaeya. He’d been nothing but supportive ever since you told him you were accepted in person. The sudden shift in his position almost gives you whiplash.

A few years ago, you may have been tempted to placate them by agreeing to stay. You feel like you’d be betraying yourself if you caved now. It’s for this reason that you stand firm, unwilling to give ground where you shouldn’t have to.

Kaeya clasps his hands together, breaking you from your reverie. “Alright, enough of that. I’m dying to break into that bottle of wine there. Will you do the honors, Master Diluc?”

At Kaeya’s prompting, Diluc turns his attention to said bottle. It has remained untouched, acting almost as the centerpiece of the table. He pops it open without further delay.

The rich aroma of Dawn Winery’s infamous Dandelion Wine soon wafts through the air. Diluc pours a generous helping into your crystal glass, then repeats the motion for Kaeya, who he has seemingly lost interest in looking at. Unsurprisingly, he pours none for himself. He’s never been interested in alcohol like his brother is. After letting it breathe for a few minutes, you take a sip, allowing your tongue to savor the luxurious brew. Sweet and refreshing.

“Don’t tell me that’s all you’re having,” Kaeya raises an eyebrow when you place it back down immediately following your first sip. “What kind of Mondstadt sendoff would this be if your glass remains full? It’s shameful, really.”

You roll your eyes and give his shoulder a playful punch. “Unlike you, Cavalry Captain, I can’t afford to wake up with a hangover tomorrow. I’m going easy on the alcohol tonight.”

“I’ll have you know that there’s going to be plenty for me to do in the next few days,” Kaeya retaliates, picking the glass up and putting it into your hands. “Allow me to let you in on a secret. Master Diluc’s too embarrassed to admit it, but he actually brewed this batch himself, start to finish. Just for you.”

“Kaeya…” Diluc trails off, his voice taking a threatening edge. You can hear the leather of his gloves crease from how he tightens his hands into fists.

“Really? You made this, Diluc?” You blink, turning your attention to the head of the table, who suddenly struggles to maintain eye contact. It’s a kind gesture, yet you don’t understand why Kaeya revealing that would make Diluc so sheepish. You gaze into the clear, undulating liquid, considering the great efforts necessary for it to reach this final state. Diluc’s busy enough as is, the thought he dedicated the time to crafting your last perfect taste of home touches your heart.

“I did,” he confirms after a moment’s pause. “I hope the flavor is to your liking. Please, have your fill. It would mean a lot to me.”

Well, when he puts it like that…

… You suppose one glass couldn’t hurt.

Kaeya picks up where the previous conversation left off.

No matter what it is he’s doing, there’s a certain flair to his body language that makes him enchanting to watch. Whether it be his animated hand gestures, how he switches between intonations depending on the subject, or his complete mastery over storytelling. You’re convinced Kaeya could’ve been a bard had he chosen not to join the Knights. Your muscles and heart rate relax as you absorb the tale Kaeya spins, stress evaporating from your weary mind. Diluc even tosses in a few remarks of his own when it’s appropriate to do so.

This is nice, you muse, attempting to blink away the abrupt heaviness of your eyelids. Everyone is getting along so well.

You take another sip.

“... That’s when I said… and then he chose not to come! Really, it’s like…”

And another.

“... Couldn’t have asked for worse timing…”

And another after that.

“... Maybe you should’ve…”

You rub your eyes with the back of your hand. It’s strange. Kaeya is sitting in the chair beside you, yet for some reason, his words sound like they’re coming from rooms away. Slowly, you turn your head to face Diluc. It feels light. You feel light. He’s staring at you, despite the fact it’s Kaeya who is speaking, his eyes never leaving yours for a second. His lips part. You think you see him mouth your name, though you can’t be certain. Every sound reverberating throughout the room blends together like watercolor on a canvas. Unidentifiable and cloudy.

You place your clammy hands on the wooden table and force yourself to stand.

Something clatters behind you, you think it might be your chair. Your breathing is so slow and shallow. Why can’t you stand right? Why aren’t your legs working as they should? You want to ask. Both Kaeya and Diluc are next to you now, one of them has placed their fingers on your neck. They’re talking to each other in hushed whispers. You’re leaning on someone — you can’t tell who — but at least you needn’t concern yourself with falling over. The ringing in your ears is growing louder. Was it always doing that? Why did it have to sound so shrill?

You don’t want to be here.

Diluc’s face is so close to yours, his eyebrows furrowing, lips downturned. He strokes the side of your face with his knuckles. You see it; you don’t feel it. You feel nothing. He’s saying something again, not to you this time, but to whoever’s holding you from behind.

“Taking… long…!”

“It isn’t… didn’t have enough…”

You feel like you’re experiencing everything from underwater. Floating, floating, endlessly floating. To where, you couldn’t possibly know. Maybe it’s for the best you don’t. As your consciousness fades, going someplace far away, one last thought prevails.

You cannot tell if you’re too hot, or too cold.

#diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #yandere diluc x reader #yandere kaeya x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #aftertaste #my stuff

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sydflow · 1 year

Text

foiled love

villain!nayeon x fem!hero

word count: 3.6K

warnings: implied death, harm (punching/violence), mentions of a knife, a child, drugging, smoking, drinking

════ ∘◦ ☆ ◦∘ ═════

Laughter rang across the living room. Vanilla-scented candles were lit to cover for the switches.

“Uno!”

With the power suddenly going out, there wasn’t much to do, no connection, no tv, and no Netflix. Boredom, however, had ended relatively quickly after Nayeon had found an old pack of uno cards sitting next to the lighter.

“Quick switch the color” you whispered to Nayeon.

“Hey no teaming!” Mira whined, pressing her last card to her chest.

Nayeon chuckled, “what color do you want?” You hummed looking at your cards, “how about red?”

“Nooo” The little girl groaned, “don’t put red! Please mom, not red!”

Placing down the ‘8’ card Nayeon smirked looking at her in the eye, “red”, she mouthed. But instead of a sound of distress, your daughter chuckled back, “really, seems like I got you both” You were astonished as your daughter of only six years placed a seven red, right atop Nayeon’s eight.

“I won, I won!” She got up and jumped, her arms flapping with excitement.

“Oh…” Nayeon leaned back, both of you just got manipulated by your own daughter, “how did I fall for that?” She groaned, and you patted her back, “she learned it from you” You whispered pecking her cheek before going up to Mira, lifting her up as she squealed and wrapped her arms around your neck, her tiny hands grasping the back collar of your shirt.

“You’re so devious, my clever little girl” Nayeon tickled her sides, as she squirmed in your arms. Mira yawned as she snuggled closer to you, “Someone’s getting sleepy”

“Not sleepy”

“C’mon sweetie, the faster you fall asleep the faster tomorrow will come” You hummed walking towards your daughter’s bedroom. Her twin size bed adorned with blush pink sheets and blankets, her room themed around her favorite color, a soft mouse plush sat atop her night stand, head tilted just slightly. Nayeon grabs the plush and you begin to tuck your daughter in. As you were about to get off the bed, she wrapped her tiny hand around yours, “Can I have a story, please mommy?”

“I don't know sweetie” You smiled, “Only if you promise to fall asleep right after”

“Promise”

“Okay then” You look at Nayeon who comfortably sat against the headboard, ready to listen as well. You catch her eye, “How about the story where the hero falls in love with the villain?”

════ ∘◦ ☆ ◦∘ ═════

This was boring. You never understood why you took on scouting missions, there would be no fight, no drama, nothing. But you wouldn’t disagree that the room was stunning.

Silk sheeted tables were placed around the dance floor, the bar in the corner, waiters came and went, and the large crystal embellished chandeliers hung from the towering ceilings. The orchestra played beautifully behind the dance floor, their songs embodied the royal ambience of the room. They played old russian waltz, czards, and even swan lake, which surprised you. These songs remind you of your mother and father, and their record player back at home. Who knew a masked masquerade would give you so much nostalgia.

You sighed, having nothing to do swirling your glass of sparkling water and playing with your mask was the only form of entertainment as you sat alone, your comrades had taken it upon them to go dance. All while you ‘keep watch’.

“Care to dance with me, pretty lady” You turn to see another woman, their mask shaped like a bunny, its silver ears pointed high, matched the lovely silver dress and the feathered scarf of the person in front of you. It hugged her curves in just the right places, and her sterling rings can only show how much power this person holds as it’s held in front of you. You could only stare.

“I can’t stand by and not invite such a stunning woman as yourself for a waltz on the floor” Her red tinted lips formed a smirk. You stare into her eyes and they hold something sinister, something that draws you in. You grasp her hand, it would be suspicious if you refused “the pleasure would be mine”.

The song was slow, her hand gripped yours firmly as you followed the rhythmic music, spinning, swaying, and stepping. Her eyes were enchanting, the chocolate brown so sweet yet so bitter, a taste which seems familiar, but you can’t seem to pinpoint how.

The pace suddenly changed, a new song, a faster waltz, her hand fell down to your waist as yours went up to her shoulder, the stepping, the swaying, the spinning, it all got faster. You thank your father for teaching you at such a young age, otherwise you would have been stumbling over your dress.

And just like that the song was over, and everyone went into applause. “You danced magnificently, darling” the girl mused, her arm still wrapped around your waist as she walks you off the dance floor, “Where did such a pretty girl like you learn to dance so gracefully”

You chuckled, you had yet to notice that you were heading towards the back door, “My father taught me when I was-” Just then your earring buzzed, “Y/N great performance but something was noticed outside the building try to go check it out”

“Are you okay? You stopped talking there?” The girl laid her hand on your shoulder.

“Yes everything is fine” Your eyes go wide for a moment before quickly feigning discomfort, “It’s quite hot in here isn’t it? I’ll go step outside for a moment, excuse me”

You begin to turn away before she grasps your arm, “I’ll go with you” She hastily suggests, “I mean a pretty girl such as yourself shouldn’t be alone, should she now?”

You were to object, the words on the tip of your tongue, but then again that would be too suspicious, “I suppose so”

—

It was definitely cooler, a little too cold. You shivered as you looked around, nothing seemed abnormal. You hugged yourself, rubbing your arms to gain some warmth. You felt something on your shoulders, a silver feathered scarf wrapped around you. You look to the side, oh right she was here.

“It’s quite calm out here” She laid her head against the wall, a cigar pressed against her lips, where she got that from you wouldn't know.

She offered you one but you refused, “I don’t smoke, it’s bad for your lungs”

She chuckled, “Everything is bad sweetie” She looks at you, as you slightly pout at her words, “cute” she mumbles.

“What was that?” You turn to face her, she shrugs her shoulders, “You seem pretty clean, you don’t drink either I presume?”

“How would you know?” You scoff a bit annoyed at her remark, even if it was true. “I saw your drink honey, sparkling water? really?”

You just look at her, the reason why you were outside in the first place now in the back of your mind. “You came outside just to smoke a blunt didn’t you?” She turns, the both of you facing each other, you die to know what she looks like under the mask.

“No, you intrigue me, why don’t you tell me more about yourself little mouse” Your eyes widen, ‘little mouse’. Only one person ever calls you that.

“Why did you call me little-” Your words were cut off as you took a good look at the person in front of you. Those eyes, no wonder why they were so familiar, and that smirk, oh god why didn’t you catch on sooner. You feel a prick on your shoulder, a tranquilizer. You hiss at the pain before ripping it out, you see as she takes off her mask.

Your knees weaken, and you fall into her arms, her hand grazes your chin as she softly removes the one thing that kept her from taking a good look at your face, “I should- I should’ve known” you mumble before losing the battle of keeping your consciousness.

—

Nayeon really did find you pretty, now that you lay in her lap (albeit unconscious) she couldn’t help but to admire your face. She moved the hair covering your face behind your ear, she traced under your eyes, down your nose to your lips.

She heard footsteps behind her, “I told you to wait for the signal” She grits.

“It seemed like she was on to you”

Nayeon sighed, “I know I accidentally revealed myself”

The man scoffed, “That was a rookie move, I thought you were a powerful villain, guess what they say is wro-“

“Would you shut up, don’t forget who you’re working for, Sunny” Nayeon glared at the red haired man as she lifted you up.

“Sorry, do you need help?” Nayeon walks past him toward the alley where a black van with tinted windows is parked. “don’t you dare touch her”

—-

You woke up in a familiar room, you’ve been in here too many times to know that this is one of Im Nayeon’s chambers, a room she specifically labeled yours. A paper taped to the front of the door, ‘little mouse’ written in your blood. You groan at the sudden headache, whatever was in that vile was strong.

You’ve been in this position too many times to know what to do and how to escape. You’re quick to untie the ropes that hold your wrists together with lazy knots. Your legs are weak as you stumble for the door, always unlocked. You took a breath before opening the door. She would be standing there. But maybe, just maybe she won’t be this time.

You twist the knob and walk out, but then you're pushed back in right away, “tsk tsk, little mouse, we play this game all the time, why do you always need to scurry and leave” She closed the door behind her.

“Now” she pulls out a knife, “why don’t you tell me why you were at the ball hmm?” Her smile widens as she walks towards you. You’re quick to get up and run towards the chair, anything would work as a weapon right now.

“That’s none of your business”

You lift it the best you can and throw it at Nayeon. But fear shoots through you as you watch her catch the chair with ease. “Y/N”, her eyes meet yours, “don’t make me do something I’ll regret, I need you to be a good girl right now and tell me,” she watches as you tremble, “the reason behind that mission. Who were you looking for?”

From behind your back you quickly use the rope, sliding past her forcing the rope against her legs to make her stumble and fall. The knife falls from her hand and quickly you stab her leg before running out the room.

“Go ahead! I’ll have fun capturing you again, little mouse!” Her yells echo along the halls as you run out. This wasn’t the first time you escaped but you had never hurt her that bad.

—

Three weeks had passed and there was no sign of her, honestly it felt weird, no miserable coincidences had struck the city and everything was just normal.

You pace around your room, paranoid, there’s nothing to do, no missions, no saving, nothing. Gosh you do find yourself bored a lot. Maybe you should pick yourself a hobby, gardening, sewing, maybe painting?

Your phone rang, and you picked up quickly, a little too quick. Gosh you sound so desperate. “Hello?”

“Y/N!!!” A girl squealed from the other line, you brought your phone away from your ear.

“Sanaaa” You groan, “too loud”

“Sorry y/n, I’m surprised you answered so quickly,” She whisper squealed. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight”

“Go out where?”

“Oh you know…the club. Just us and girls, I know you don’t drink but it’ll be an outing, it seems like you need it”

You look at your desk, empty except for a pink mouse plusht, the club does sound more fun than sitting alone and being paranoid all night.

“Okay sure, what time?”

Another squeal,

“Goodness Sana”

“Sorry, sorry”

—

The club was packed, sweaty bodies rubbed against one another on the dance floor, people were chatting at the booths or the bar. You were having fun, you might not be drunk, but letting go was a good feeling.

“So how’s the little hero doing?” Jihyo is quick to change the topic onto you.

“Me? I’m doing fine” Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“What about miss villain?” Momo smirked. Your cheeks turned pink,

“What about her? All she does is ruin my missions” You mumble.

“Oh come on, ‘little mouse’? I don’t think someone would call their sworn enemy that”, Sana is quick to pitch in. The girls begin to tease you,

“Oh little mouse where have you gone”

“Cute little mousy for the big bad villain”

“Sh-shut up. I’m going to go get another Dr. Pepper,” you stutter, grabbing your empty glass and walking away from the group, their drunken laughs getting distant.

“Dr. Pepper please” you push your glass towards the bartender, who seems to gladly take the glass,

“One Dr. Pepper for the pretty lady, coming right up” He was slightly preppy, bits of fiery red hair poking out from under his hat. What a unique hair color, you thought.

You took a couple sips of your drink when it arrived and noticed a piece of paper stuck to the bottom, ‘how have your parents been?’. Your eyes widened, she’s back?

Hastily you walk back to the booth, but the closer you got the more distorted everything seemed to be, someone bumped into you and you felt something press onto your neck. “Sana, need to go home” you mumbled, falling into the girl's arms.

“Y/N? Are you drunk? No way, that’s why you never drink, you’re such a lightweight!”

—

You stumble into your apartment, “do you need help getting settled Y/N?” Mina asked.

“No thanks” You say slightly slurred, “you help them” you point to her car, a screeching Momo and a squealing Sana had gotten outside running circles around a lamppost, Jihyo sat in the car yelling at them through the open window. Mina groans at the sight, “okay fine, just this time, call me if you need anything” She leaves. You need to get to your parents as soon as possible.

You turn around and walk straight into the wall, your headache intensifying, “why am I always on the brink of losing consciousness?” You mumble to no one, you finally make it to your room, after tripping over a carpet, bumping into a table, and walking into the bedroom door.

But as soon as you open the door, you run straight into someone’s arms, “nice to see you too little mouse” an all too familiar voice rings in your ears. You’re out of it, so very out of it.

“Huh? What happened to my good girl, I thought you didn’t drink? What’s this-” She’s cut off by a finger pressed to her lips,

“You have… wonderful eyes” You mumble cupping her face, Nayeon’s face is pink, your favorite shade. You needed to do something, what was it?

“I- uh” She’s at a loss, never have you flirted back, what exactly did you drink? Her hand trails up to your neck and she feels something, quickly she pushes your hair back and notices a little black circular object, “A tracker?”

She looks back at you, your dopey smile although so very cute was worrying, your drink had been spiked, you’re drugged. She begins to tap your face, “Y/N? Y/N! Where were you just now?” No reply, “Oh god” She rips the tracker off of you, “We need to get you out of here, before it’s too late”

“Hm? I think it’s a little too late," a perky voice says from behind her. She feels a prick at her back and grunts at the sudden pain, she rips it out and looks at the familiar dart. “You’ll pay for this” She turns to meet fiery red hair, “I’ll end you”

—

Nayeon had woken up with a groan, her arms and legs tied to the chair. She looks to her right and sees you. “Y/N?” She whispered, she’d never seen you like this. Your eyes were blown wide, staring straight, tears flowed down your cheeks, but you stayed still as they traveled down to your chin, dying on your shirt.

She followed your eyes to be met with your parents. They were on the other side of the wall, it seems like they couldn’t see either of you, must be an one way glass. Yes, she has mentioned your parents in the past, but she never, ever, planned on harming them. Whoever did this will pay, they will suffer just as much they’ve made you suffer.

She hears you begin to sniffle, then you begin to yell. You scream for your parents, and Nayeon stares wide eyed. She feels useless.

“Y/N” Her whispers die on her lips “please calm-“ the door slams open and in walks the man Nayeon never should have trusted. Your screams immediately stop.

“Sunny” she glares hard, she hates the neon red color, the fire in his hair can’t compare to the fire behind her eyes. “I’ll end you, you’ll wish you never would have met me”

“Oh, I’m not here for you, Ms. Im” His devilish smirk, evident. “I need to know what the secret hero organization is planning”

He walks past Nayeon and stands in front of you, “Ms Y/ln” he looks down at your limp form “it’s a pleasure to formally meet you, Ms Im talks about you all the time” his hand reaches under your chin.

“My, my what a pretty girl indeed, no wonder you’re so gushed on. Unfortunately…” his eyes trails onto Nayeon a cold gaze locked onto another, “I don’t have much time, so let’s get started shall we”

He proceeds to ask you questions about previous missions and the identities of your coworkers. You, however, keep silent, your eyes remain on those of your fathers, his clueless expression staring into yours, even if he can't see you.

“Hey!” Sunny grips your cheeks hard forcing your head up to look at him, “LOOK. AT. ME.” He yells as you shut your eyes, his nails marking your skin, he smirks at your pain, “when I am talking to you” he whispers, then he begins to laugh a wicked sound, one that makes ears bleed.

“If you don’t answer me” he says between cackles, “I’ll hurt her” He points to Nayeon. That woke you up, “You wouldn’t…”

“Oh?” He leans down, his face directly in front of yours, “the girl does talk. Hmm, well if she can make you talk then I think I’ll change this up a bit” He drags your chair in front of hers, Nayeon stared at you in disbelief, the both of you stare into each other’s eyes before a punch is thrown directly onto Nayeon’s face.

“For each time you don’t answer she’ll receive something in return” he darkly smiles at you. “Now who’s the leader of the system?” Your mouth opens, you hesitate.

“Don’t!” Nayeon cuts you off, “Don’t. I can take it” Sunny chuckles, repeating the question and you do as Nayeon says, he rolls his sleeves up and proceeds.

—

“Stop! Stop it!” Tears had started to flow again, Nayeon had a black eye and bruises covering her face, her sweater had even begun to tear around her torso. You whimper as Sunny stops, and turns back to you, “are you willing to answer my questions now?”

“yes”

Nayeon looks up at you with strain, “no” she whispers. “He’ll kill you!” Sunny laughs.

“Good choice” He stands in front of you once more, his body blocking Nayeon’s all you could hear is her scruffed breaths. “We’ll start off from the top” He fixes his sleeves and takes off his gloves, “Who is the lead-”

════ ∘◦ ☆ ◦∘ ═════

“But, before he can say anything…” You whisper slowly, your daughter stares wide eyed, “the door bursts open, and in comes police officers, to save the day!”

“They’re able to handcuff Sunny and take him away, for good” You push hair behind her ears, and fix her blankets, “the end” you kiss the top of her head and her eyes close. Nayeon stands behind you, her arm wrapped around your waist as she also leans in to kiss your daughter goodnight.

And just as the two of you begin to walk out a soft mumble escapes her lips, “mommy”. You hum softly, “yes sweetie”

“What happened after, to the hero and the villain?”,

“Oh?” you look at Nayeon for some help, she smiles, “the hero told the villain how much she loves her and the villain felt the same way and gave up being bad” she holds your hand looking into your eyes, “all for the hero”.

“Mmkay” your daughter mumbles before her soft snoring fills the room, and you blow out the candle before closing the door and leaving.

—

You two walk into the master bedroom and start preparing for bed, as you do your nightly routine in front of the vanity mirror, Nayeon leans into you from behind.

“You changed some parts” She mumbles into your neck, “what was that darling?” you turn around pulling her closer to you.

“In the story, you changed some parts” She yawned, you smiled, pulling her onto the bed and under the covers. You rubbed her back as she sighed against you, “that I did, we’ll tell her the true story when the time comes, she’s far too young to understand, I think i took it too far with the punching and the drugging” You whisper.

"He didn't even punch me, it was a knife" She grumbled,

"oh I know, but you're my strong baby and took it like a champ" Nayeon feigned a scoffed, "I'm not a baby".

the two of you lay in silence, trying to get some shut eye, that was until Nayeon spoke,

“Are you going to visit them tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yes, I will, I might bring Mira along too” You mumble, your eyes beginning to drop as you snuggle closer.

“It’s about time she meet her grandparents” it’s your turn to yawn as Nayeon’s breath fans your neck, “even if it’s at a cemetery”

#nayeon x reader #nayeon imagines #twice x reader #twice imagine #nayeon #twice imagines

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prelovednikaidou · 2 years

Text

innocence:: yuuta okkutsu [01]

masterlist

a/n: this one has been dusty in my drafts😴

'He really stayed true to his roots', was your first thought when you met him in the library. Going along with your friend's suggestion, you didn't go there to study. It was too hot out there since summer was approaching and it was rather obvious that you came here for a spec of cold air.

At first, you had your own doubts. After-all, it had been 10 years since you last met him. The sweet baby fat that he had was long gone, replaced with his high cheekbones and his cute puppy eyes were nowhere to be seen but a pair of sunken eye bags.

He had matured, you had to admit.

The first floor of this library were covered with big and tall windows as too much sunlight peeped between the trees outside there. It was impossible for his figure to stay basked in the shadows so after a few minutes, when the wind outside blew softly, you saw how the dazzling image of his never really faded.

Yuuta Okkutsu.

Recalling his name in your head, the gush of nostalgia hit you a nerve yet it didn't last long until he looked up from his books - probably sensing your stare that you immediately withdrew your eyes.

"You know him?" Your friend nudged your elbow and you hesitated before you nodded. She raised her brow to your answer and said, "Same high school?"

"Nah, knew him when I was a kid. But I could be wrong though. I mean we were around 12... I think?"

"Ah... so you guys are from the same hometown. He's quite a hunk I must say. Were you guys close? Or just playmates?"

You turned your body to face your friend and smiled slyly, "My,my... we have someone who's a little interested in my childhood life huh... why, want me to introduce you to him?"

She clicked her tongue and shook her head. She was going to answer honestly but seeing how your eyes were twinkling with mischief and teasing, she kept her response to herself. 'This girl never takes anything seriously.'

"Would you do it if I say so?" She threw you a smirk before she continued typing on her phone and you pouted a little, she got you there. You were all talk with no actions, perhaps the reason why all your dating attempts failed. Is it even possible to say that you catfished your personality?

"What I was going to say is, you should go and greet him. It's been long enough and it's nice what, to expand your circle. It's a give and take, who knows that maybe he can give you a ride back home for this semester break? You could've saved a little money."

"Girl, be honest. I know damn well you ain't talking like that."

"Okay, bitch." Your friend whispered, "Go say hi and fuck him. That pale ass lanky boy definitely has a huge dick so go make it worth a little reunion and get your virgin ass wrecked."

"That's more like you." You smiled, patting her thigh as you stood up quietly, pushing your chair under the table and blew a kiss towards your friend. She just rolled her eyes, a little tint of smile hung loosely on her lips as she replied to her boyfriend that she was at the library and she wanted him to pick her up as soon as possible.

Looking back at your figure, she wondered if her eyes were playing tricks because she was so sure that the man had been looking at you too. In fact, she noticed him multiple times during class switching. Only you didn't notice.

'I was thinking too much meh.' She packed her stuffs and proceeded to leave. As you said, the both of you were childhood friends. So why the need for him to be sneaky and watched you from far? Not like he was aiming for something.

This is so damn awkward!

You climbed the small heap of stairs, your fingers pulled on the edge of your pink jumper that stopped below your navel. If it were to be the daily classes you attended, skimpy jumpers like this wouldn't put your mental in such a tight spot. But why was it only now that you feel so embarrassed and the need to cover your tummy?

Yuuta was changing posture. He sat in a relax manner, slouching to his seat while his right hand continued writing and his other free hand rested on his lap idly. The loud thumping in your chest was driving you nuts. If you closed your ears, the vibrating noise of your heartbeat would conquer your whole head - that was just how nervous you were.

The gap was getting closer. Within three more steps, you would see him closely.

"Erm... excuse me...?" Your index finger tapped on his table twice, his attention tore from his work and landed on you. You were taken back and all you could say in your head was fuck.

He is so fucking beautiful. Like the kind of beauty where he doesn't need to do the most unlike me. No wonder I haven't heard about him before. He probably doesn't make himself 'known' on purpose.

The ghostly pale skin did him the justice of his sunken eye bags. It made him mysterious and a little bit of a nerd. You love nerdy guys. And the thin lips?

The tail of your mouth curled into a smile as you pointed to yourself and said, "Remember me? We were classmates back in the kindergarten. You're Yuuta, right? Yuuta Okkutsu."

The main who named Yuuta, only stared at you without response. His inky black eyes glued to your face without moving an inch, his hand from the writing posture wasn't even pull out. As if you were interrupting him. Shame was clouding your cheeks bits by bits as silence fall between you both and you pushed forward to cover the awkwardness by asking again,

"Was I mistaken? I... I was the short haired girl who always took you to climb the trees, remember? The... the one who also lived behind your house!"

"..."

You finished your words in a rush, too embarrassed to think if you left any important details. The thick lashes that fanned his cheekbones flattered in each blink. He wasn't responding at all. It wasn't until you let out a forced laugh, taking two steps back that his brow raised a little.

Bowing your head as you mumbled a soft "Ah, I'm sorry. I've disturbed for study. I'll leave then.", he suddenly touched his ear and took out a piece of ear plug and said,

"I wasn't listening. Care to repeat?"

The corner of your heart felt numb. While his appearance had changed, not one bit of his habits did. The clashing image of his smaller body where he also had the same distant demeanour when you first greeted him in front of his house, reminded you;

it was you who pursued the one sided friendship. While you called him a childhood friend, he must have regarded you as a person from the past. Or worst, he didn't remember at all.

"Ah... N-nothing. I think I mistook you for someone else. Sorry." You squeezed out a smile.

Now that you thought carefully, it was better for you to end it here because it wasn't really important to embrace a friendship that you barely remember. It felt like a few things were missing but you couldn't recall anything. He also didn't say a word. His eyes trailed after the smallest gesture of your body, and you retreated but the knot of your knitted jumper was stuck to his bag, tearing a small and long line of tugging. You cursed silently.

It was so awkward and you just wanted to leave. You used your keys to cut the string but it only made the tear even bigger so as you were beginning to panic, you heard the heels of his chair scrapped against the floor and there he was- standing right in front of you.

"My bad. You just cut off this annoying string. I can't do it with my keys." He watched your eyes began to mist as the reddish hue tinted your cheeks.

"Alright." He said.

He was standing so close, where his answer even felt warm at the side of your face when he took out a Swiss pocket knife from his pocket. His fingers were beautiful too. The knuckles were slightly red from the cold library but the veins that started from his hands continued until it disappeared under his long sleeves. Such a beautiful pair of hands.

After he was done, you began to take a step yet the big palm covered your hand wholly -

"I know you." Yuuta said, his eyes never left and continued, "The little tomboy."

"..."

Hearing the three words coming from his mouth, your mouth gaped a little and the response you wanted to mutter sounded breathy, "Yeah. That one."

Yuuta didn't dwell on holding your hand. He scratched the side of his jawline and his lazy eyes settled on your face, down to your chin, to the enchanting collarbones and droop even lower to the deep dent of your breast-

He looked away, as if he wanted to erase the dark glint from his eyes and said, "Let's talk somewhere else."

You agreed.

The walk between the library and the cafeteria took 10 minutes and you inwardly groaned because the heat was no joke today. You were itching to zip down the jumper and only walked in your camisole but that'd be inappropriate. Thus - you have a male companion beside you. The heat from your nape now seemed to transferred to your face, you fanned your heated cheeks.

Yuuta was a really tall man. So tall that he had been looking back multiple times, noticing that you've been left behind by how long and fast his strides were. Only now that he slowed down to match your tempo. Even so, it left you a little breathless to catch up - a good workout indeed!

"I heard that you didn't stay in Okinawa. Where are you living now?" The tail of his eyes looked at you from his side, but his focus couldn't stay noble that long. The pink hearty jumper was initially zipped to the top of your chest - had been lowered until he could see what you were wearing beneath. A head taller than you, not only he saw the top of your head or the sweat on your temple. He could even see the incoherent breathing, the rapid rise and fall of your chest in each steps you took and fuck.

He was indeed a dirty bastard.

The little tomboy he knew only existed in his memory. What was presented in front him was a woman who was blooming and basked in her adulthood; unable to touch but the itch to was so damn strong.

"Oh, I moved to Kyoto. My dad got stationed to another post so my whole family also followed him. How about you? Are you still living there?" The soft smile you had on your face made the black irises bore deeply, unwilling to tear away.

"Yeah... Everyone missed you. Konoha and Matsukawa cried the hardest when they knew that you moved away."

"Hahaha, sounds like I was pretty famous and loved. How about you? Did you-"

"I do."

Your breath caught in your throat, everything was overwhelming for you to process. You haven't even finish your sentence. What were you about to ask anyway? Whether he missed you or he cried over your leave? And why did he say that as if it wasn't an act in the past? Confusing and you turned your head to look at him -

The shadow from the trees by the sidewalk shaded the both of you from the sun, it was difficult for you to see his face. But you were certain about one thing; the eyes never lie and what you acknowledged in those inky beads were...

longing.

Yuuta's hand didn't stay by his side for long until he reached out to your jumper, pulling the hem towards him that you had to take one step closer as he inserted the zipper into its slot and slowly, he said in his low voice,

"I wonder everyday where did my little tomboy go. I marked every trees we climbed together, thinking that you must've been hiding from me. My childhood, all I can remember of is searching for you."

The heart shaped zipper was between his long fingers, where he pulled upwards little by little - where the pressure wasn't hard but wasn't too light. Zipping you up, as if he was caressing your torso with his two fingers - the massive curve on your chest that had been traced by his fingers, oops.. you meant the zipper. Yuuta's presence was suffocating you.

He also had his struggle. The little tomboy who always picked fights with him, the one who had bitten his arms in countless wrestlings, was now grown into a woman whose charm was enough to make him commit a crime.

"Then why did you ignore me earlier?"

"I was just making sure it's you, chibi-chan." Of course he didn't add about how he was too tired of waiting for you. He was tired of looking around him, imagining how you looked like after years of parting. He was tired of hanging on the hope that he'd meet you again. He was tired and sick of you.

It almost brought you tears as he called you with your family pet name. "Dummy. I almost thought you've forgot about me." You smiled out of relief.

The walk seemed to halt into a dark corner of the cafe and the nervousness disappeared as you knew that he didn't avoid you on purpose. You have prepared yourself that this short reunion would end shortly but it was truly nice that it turned out differently.

As your happy mood was reflected on your face, Yuuta looked at the gleaming smiles as he heard you say, "It's so nice that we met again. It's like a part of myself that I've hid from everyone is not forgotten. Let's talk a lot today, okay? Ah, now that you've mentioned those two... I wonder if it's too late for me to meet them."

"Who?"

"Konoha and Matsukawa...?"

"Ah." He took a step forward, you inched your head back a little as he was so close to you. It was now you between him and the wall behind you. Crossing your arms over your chest, you wanted to draw him a little further from you but these damn height difference! He glowered over you head and calmly stated,

"You haven't even spend your time with me yet and you've already planning to meet another men. Think about this later. Speaking of which..." He took out a pendant from his pocket and handed it to you.

"I also haven't been able to reach out to any of them. So why not we go together?"

A pendant with the shape of bunny was placed in your palm. This belonged to the family dog you used to keep until it died before you moved out. So it was him who kept it. You nodded and shot him a smile as you said, "Sure! We can also go to the tree behind our school gate. I wonder if the candy shop is still open."

Yuuta couldn't stand looking at you like this. So close - it was unreal to him. The woman he was dreaming of every night, the woman he spent years looking forward- was now evident in a full body and soul. Sometimes,he blamed the blood he carried inside him as for him to be this perverted. He used to feel disgust over how his uncle, Gojo Satoru would gawk over his lover.

He was just the same as Gojo. In fact, even worst. The black irises swirled with a mix of pent-up anger and sexual frustrations that he locked inside him for so long. He was angered by your sudden leave. He was also disappointed by how you cried without saying anything to him.

"Chibi-chan."

"Hmm?"

"I take it that we're friends... again?"

"Sure, unless you don't want to?"

Of course he wanted to. Yet for now, he would hold his tongue back and agreed with whatever you said. Because if he were to say that he was thinking more of a friend, that'd shoo you away,

right?

#yuuta x reader #yuuta smut #yuuta headcanons #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta jjk #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jjk smut

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jorvikzelda · 5 months

Text

My earliest memory of SSO is visiting my childhood best friend's house way back when and riding through Hollow Woods on her Gen 1 Fjord. Figured I'd travel down that same path today, for the last ride.

When I started playing SSO in 2020, Hollow Woods felt familiar and homely from the start even before I recalled my brief meeting with it years prior. It's the only area in the game I can say I feel any amount of nostalgia about, and as much as I love to talk shit about the people with nostalgia-tinted glasses in this community, it does feel a little bittersweet to let the old Hollow Woods go. I will miss the simple harp and piano music that plays every so often as you ride through the forest. (The way it's the only music that ever plays, interrupting the silence only every once in a while and lasting for only a few seconds, has always felt special to me and I always stop what I'm doing to listen to it whenever I hear it begin.)

All that being said, I am happy to see this Hollow Woods go and tremendously excited for the update's potential. As I've recently learned, we do sometimes need to let go of the past and of our perception of how things should be to make way for new, better things, and change can feel foreign and scary even when it is good.

It is about time for a change of scenery.

#sso #ssoblr #z's photos #post 2/3 of hollow woods LMFAOFGODFIGAODIFGH #I am a little emotional this. I will admit.#h: silversong

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duramaters · 2 years

Text

She Runs Hot // E.M.

Summary: You spend your weekends helping out at your fathers auto shop. He’s in desperate need of an extra pair of hands and it just so happens that Eddie Munson is looking for a job.

Warnings: Smut (18+), explicit language, drug use

Word Count: 4.2k

Song: She Runs Hot - Little Village

Your father dropped his tools and wheeled himself out from underneath the raised truck with a huff.

“We really need some help around here kid. I’m getting way too old for all this.” He stood up crookedly, brushing off his worn blue overalls and cracking his back. The popping of his joints had you wincing and you found yourself agreeing with your old man. Despite the fact that you loved the dynamic of just the two of you in the shop you could only really help out on weekends, especially since finals were coming up and your father was desperate for you to get the grades you deserved, so getting someone else to be able to put in some shifts would be a massive help.

“I’ll put up a sign in the window, pop.” You shouted through to the garage, ducking down behind the front desk to grab some paper and a marker. Your hasty scrawl of Help Wanted wasn’t exactly eye-catching but you knew it would do the job so you stuck it to the front window with a piece of tape, ignoring the fact that it was definitely wonky. Hunching down next to the refrigerator you grabbed a beer for your dad and a lemonade for yourself and jumped up onto the workbench, swinging your feet to the rhythm of the Van Halen song you could hear coming faintly from the radio on the front desk. Your father leant against the truck he had been working on and took a hearty swig of his beer before looking at you with a nostalgia tinted gaze.

“When did you grow up huh, kid? Seems like only yesterday I was dropping you off for your first day at kindergarten and you came home covered in dirt after starting a fight with the Carver boy on the playground.”

“I didn’t start anything, dad.” You rolled your eyes at the man, but there was a joyful little smirk on your face at the memory. “He was being a snot.” Your dad chuckled, looking down at the floor and readjusting his old Ford cap before coming over to place his now empty beer bottle on the worktop where you were sat.

“Graduation this year kiddo, I think I better start looking for a new suit.” His heavy palm clapped you on the shoulder, squeezing gently. You and your father were never ones to show outward affection to each other but moments like this reminded you how much you loved your old man.

A muffled oh shit and a tray of washers and bolts flying across the shop floor distracted you from the sentimental moment and you hopped off the bench to go and see to the clumsy customer who was now scrabbling across the floor on his hands and knees. You took in the wild halo of mousy hair and the Dio album cover printed on the denim jacket and shook your head, holding in a laugh at the sight of Eddie Munson crawling under your desk to get catch a rolling bolt. You ducked your head beneath the wooden top and came face to face with the man who jumped at the sight of you, letting out a little squeal and hitting his head on the underside of the desk.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He mumbled, rubbing the crown of his head and scrunching up his nose.

“Oh god, sorry Eddie!” You rushed around the table and tried to help him up by the sleeves of his leather jacket, hands fisting into the soft, worn fabric in an attempt to get a decent grip on his arms.

“Y-you know who I am?” He looked at you dazed and trying desperately to flatten his slightly matted hair.

“Did you hit your head hard enough to forget your own name?!” You looked at him with a mild panic before remembering you were talking to the Eddie Munson and that he often considered himself too unimportant to be memorable to anyone other than his Hellfire club mates.

“Of course I know who you are Eddie, I sit next to you in Ms O’Donnell’s class, remember?”

“Yeah I remember alright. You let me borrow a pencil last semester and I never gave it back. Sorry.” He looked down at his white Reeboks with a sheepish frown.

“No sweat,” you chuckled and gestured toward the refrigerator, “beer?”

“Oh uh, I probably shouldn’t since I came in to ask about the sign.” He motioned towards to window with one ring-clad hand while rubbing the back of his neck with the other and you watched the fluffy curls bounce across his shoulders with the nervous movement.

“Oh? That’s great! I’ll go fetch my dad!” You beamed at him before skipping through the door connecting the front desk to your dad’s workshop.

You returned with your grease-coated father in tow, wiping his hands with an old rag. Once he was clean enough he held out a calloused palm towards Eddie and the man shook it eagerly.

“Hi sir, I just came in to-”

“None of the formalities kid, its yours if you want it. I know you’re still in school, but if you can help out in the evenings that will be more than enough for now.” You had forgotten to warn Eddie about your fathers blunt but kind-hearted nature so you were expecting him to look a great deal more affronted than he did.

“A-are you sure?” He stuttered, still clasping your dads oil-blackened hand in his own.

“Of course I am. And you can fix up that bloody van while you here, I heard you coming a mile off..” The muttering echo of your fathers voice faded as he disappeared back into the workshop and Eddie was left staring after him with a dumbfounded expression.

“Yeah sorry about that, he can be a bit frank sometimes, ya know?” Now it was your turn to look sheepish as you fiddled with a pen on the desk in front of you.

“No, he err, he seems great!” The reality of having a job and finally earning some money had clearly hit Eddie hard and his bright smile grew even wider. Money meant the possibility of leaving Hawkins behind for good, with or without that shitty high school diploma, and that was cause for excitement. You had turned your back on him to rifle through the filing cabinet for some paperwork but you watched him in the reflection of the window and could see him pumping his fist in celebration when he thought you weren’t looking. It was adorable.

“I’m gonna need you to fill this out, just for insurance and in case of an emergency.” You handed him the thin sheaf of paperwork, smiling up at him warmly. “You can just give them back to me in class tomorrow and as soon as you’re on the system you can start!” He beamed down at you and took the papers, taking great care not to crease them.

“Thank you, milady.” Eddie bowed down at you before walking backwards to his truck, his earnest tone had you blushing behind your desk. You waved back at him as he hopped up into the driver’s seat and heavy metal music started blasting from the speakers, although it didn’t do much to hide the peculiar noises emanating from the engine.

~~~

It had been three days and you had finally gotten around to filing Eddie’s paperwork and putting him on payroll. Ms O’Donnell was blathering on at the front of the class, facing the chalkboard and paying zero attention to her uninterested students. You leant across in your seat, lightly tapping Eddie’s denim clad shoulder with your pencil.

“Hey, Eddie!” You whispered, trying to catch his attention. He startled from his daydream and twisted to face you, leaning in to capture your quiet voice. “All your paperwork is sorted! You can start tonight if you want? I’m heading over after school so I can give you the rundown.” Eddie’s eyebrows raised and his doe eyes were actually twinkling at you. Who knew the prospect of a crappy mechanics job could be so thrilling, you thought, but you were secretly pleased at his elation.

“Yeah! Do you want a lift?” Eddie’s confidence in speaking to you now, compared to when he first entered the auto shop, floored you for a second. It was like having your dad offer him the job without any preamble or doubts had infused Eddie with a kind of buoyancy. It must have been a novel experience for him, having someone believe in him and not judge him right off the bat. Your heart glowed with fondness for your father and maybe there was a tiny flame of fondness beginning to spark for the fluffy haired nerd staring at your mouth waiting for a response. Oh crap, he had asked you a question!

“Oh erm, sure. I mean, yes please! That would be great.” Eddie’s answering grin had you turning back to your textbook to hide the blush creeping across your collarbones.

~~~

You were walking across the dusty parking lot, headphones around your neck so that the muted melody of Crowded House’s Mean to Me was only just audible. You heard the light stride of someone behind you and turned to see Eddie Munson making his way towards you, jingling his van keys at you with mirth in his eyes. You rolled your own eyes good naturedly and followed him to his boxy van. Ever the gentleman, Eddie held the passenger door open for you and gave you his hand as leverage so you could easily hop up into the seat. The cold of his rings brushing against your fingers caused a spark of electricity to shoot up your arm at the sensation. As soon as he turned the key in the ignition Metallica roared from the speakers and you covered your ears in shock, almost jumping out of your seat in alarm. You watched those ringed fingers reach for the controls to lower the volume from deafening to just tolerable and you slowly eased your hands away from the side of your face, looking at Eddie and bursting into pearls of laughter at your pounding heartbeat. He couldn’t help but join in with your giggles and the sound of the two of you laughing together was almost melodic.

Eddie peeled out of the parking lot and you hung onto the sides of your seat for dear life. He had always been theatrical, making the cafeteria his stage, but watching him now in the privacy of his own space was something new. He was headbanging to the music while still trying to keep an eye on the road and you could feel his gaze flickering over to you when you turned to look out of the window. Smiling softly to yourself, you relaxed and tried to ease into the music and, although it was a bit too heavy for you, you did manage to bop along with some kind of rhythm.

“You can pull into the actual workshop if you want, I don’t think anyone will be dropping by tonight. Maybe dad can help take a look at your engine.” You winked at him as you jumped down onto the concrete before he had even turned off the ignition.

“What in the bloody hell is that racket- Oh sweetheart it’s you!” You gave your father a one armed hug and swung your arm out to bring his attention to Eddie who was standing at the front of his van twisting the metal of his ring around his middle finger nervously. Your dad nodded at the anxious metalhead and quietly handed him a beer. Eddie shot you a questioning look over the older mans shoulder and you nodded at him encouragingly, mouthing the word bonding before saluting him and heading through to your desk.

You had felt guilty just abandoning Eddie with your father, but in reality there was nothing you could do to help and you had already explained the set up of the shop to him on the drive over from school. It wasn’t exactly a sink or swim situation, you knew your dad would be easy-going with Eddie and teach him what needed doing with honest patience, as he had done with you when you first started helping out, so really there was no need to be worried. An oh shit from Eddie and a gruff laugh from your father confirmed that your worries were unfounded and it wasn’t long before the van was running smoother than you’d ever heard it.

~~~

Several days had passed and it had become routine for Eddie to drive you to the shop after school, spend the evening helping out your dad and then join you in the flat above the garage for a dinner that you had cooked while the men were finishing up on the last car of the day. It was all very domestic and you lived for the secret smiles Eddie threw at you across the table when you’d dab at your own face to indicate where he had a splotch of grease. You’d walk him to the door of the flat and wait for the dulled sounds of Metallica to fade into the distance before you let yourself head back to the kitchen to help your dad with the washing up. There were some definite feelings brewing between the two of you, but you were too shy to acknowledge them and the fear of being rejected weighed heavily on your mind. You were pretty sure that Eddie felt the same way, but it could have just been his way of showing gratitude for the job or the homecooked meals and you weren’t willing to bet your heart to find out.

One night as you were walking Eddie to the door to see him out he pulled a joint from behind his ear and raised an eyebrow at you in question. It was a Friday night and you had caught up on all of your studying for the week so you glanced back into the kitchen at your dad, still sat at the table with the newspaper, and turned to Eddie with a silent nod. He grabbed your wrist and hauled you down the stairs behind him, both of you giggling like schoolgirls. Eddie flung open the back doors of his van and to your surprise and abject horror wrapped his large hands around your waist and lifted you delicately onto the blanket lining the inside of the vehicle. You stumbled onto your knees having barely registered what had just happened before Eddie was slamming the doors behind the both of you and collapsing into a beanbag in the corner. You had remained hunched over on bent knees while Eddie rifled through his many pockets looking for a working lighter, a pile of duds had built up on the floor before he glanced up at you and noticed your tense position.

“Take a seat princess, mi casa es su casa.” He stated with a flourish of his arm.

You hesitantly gathered up a rather saggy beanbag and pulled it over to Eddie so that you could perch in front of him as he lit the joint, drawing your focus to his enviable lips and perfectly defined cupid’s bow. He let out a puff of smoke before handing it over to you and you took great care not to inhale too deeply and cough because that would have been mortifying. You held your breath for as long as possible, swallowing down the smoke before steadily exhaling, needing the high to counteract your nerves at the proximity between you and the fluffy-haired rocker.

The buzz gradually built and you felt yourself relaxing deeper into the beanbag, stretching out your leg to idly brush against Eddie’s denim clad calf. You heard the faint hitch of his breath and it emboldened you to raise your leg slightly higher until it nudged at his knee. He raised his gentle hand from where it fiddled with the blanket and brought it up to rest on your leg with a torturous slowness, his delicate fingers circling your exposed ankle.

“Sweetheart?” He questioned, large doe eyes boring into your own, confused by your actions but desperate to engage with them.

“Eddie.” Your response was a breathless whisper as his ringed fingers began to trail up your leg with featherlight touches.

“Am I imagining this?” He had slowly started to lean towards you, unaware that he was closing the distance, and you were unwilling to stop him.

“God no.” You replied, dropping forwards off of the beanbag and falling onto your knees in front of him, caged in by his thighs. Eddie’s now unoccupied hand resumed its search for skin contact and fluttered at your waist, barely lifting the hem of your shirt, but the contact was scorching and you felt yourself burning up with his touch. “Please” you whined unapologetically.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He was so close to you now that you could feel his smoke-sweet breath on your lips.

“Kiss me.” You barely had time to finish speaking before the lips you had fantasised about for weeks were sucking on your mouth, goading you to open up to him with whines and whimpers.

“Fuck” he murmured against your searing lips, “you taste like pot and perfection princess.”

You smiled into the kiss and shifted so that you were even closer, hands exploring his vest and catching on the name tag that you had made him a couple of days after he’d started at the shop. You had noticed that he never took it off, not even for school, and it had made your heart ache with affection at the thought of your handwriting sitting above his heart like a claim of ownership.

Sitting up on your knees to gain some height you deepened the kiss even further, lightly tugging on his tousled strands to angle his neck so that your searching mouth could slot against his jaw and you could lick a needy stripe up the column of his exposed throat. Eddie’s groans turned feral at the wetness of your tongue and he bucked up involuntarily, hips lifting off the beanbag to seek some kind of friction.

“So keen” you purred, breaking the kiss to look down into his lust blown eyes with adoration. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment Munson.”

“Jesus Christ princess.” Eddie growled out your pet name before wrapping his hands around your waist once more, long fingers plastered against your lower back and pulling you into his open lap.

“Can we? Please.” You moaned against his chest, feeling all submissive and gooey at his touch.

“Fuck yes.” Eddie sprung into action, shouldering off both his denim and leather jackets and reaching for the hem of your t-shirt before stopping himself and turning serious. “Are you absolutely sure you want to? It’s not just the weed talking?” Your heart broke at his furrowed brow and downturned lips and you lifted a delicate finger to his face, smoothing away the creases of disquiet that marred his beautiful features.

“I’ll reiterate, shall I? I have wanted to do this since the moment I caught you chasing that damn bolt under my desk, you nerd.” The smile that swept across his face nearly blinded you with its brightness and Eddie surged up towards you with a new kind of hunger, now confident in his removal of your t-shirt. His wet mouth was suckling at your skin, taking a devious path down your neck and across your collarbones towards your breasts. He mouthed at the fabric of your bra, creating wet patches above your nipples before his appetite turned insatiable and he yanked the offending garment down your chest. In your eagerness to feel his tongue against your sensitive flesh you quickly unhooked your bra and flung it into a forgotten corner before tightly gripping Eddie’s hair in encouragement, grinding yourself into him through his torturously tight jeans.

Eddie’s hands were soon cupping the curve of your ass and regretfully lifting you off of his engorged lap to lay you softly against the blanket. Your searching fingers turned impatient, desperate to feel the flex of his muscles and his naked skin beneath your fingertips. Eddie sensed your urgency and ripped his grease splattered shirt over his head, allowing you a quick glance at his tattoos and the trail of hair on his abdomen that lead down to his belt. Wait a minute…his belt buckle looked suspiciously like a pair of handcuffs and you found yourself looking back up at the irresistible man above you with a raised brow and laughter on your lips.

“Kinky” you grinned and you felt him chuckle against your skin as he mouthed at your neck, sucking bruises into the soft flesh under your jaw. You were attempting to work out the handcuff buckle with no success and your impatience was endlessly entertaining to the man clutching at your hip. You separated from each other to pull your remaining clothes off with practiced ease, but Eddie’s fervour had him falling over himself in his haste to remove his jeans and socks.

“So bloody clumsy.” You smirked into his open mouth as you reconnected your now naked bodies.

“Is it not endearing milady?” Eddie’s playful tone was contrasted by his sharp canines biting down on your lower lip, sending a jolt of ecstasy straight to your dripping core. Without a second thought you grabbed the hand that was adorned with rings and directed it towards your sopping center. Eddie quickly took the hint and parted your folds with unbridled enthusiasm, the cold metal of his rings teasing your clit deliciously. You moaned and rubbed yourself up into his tantalizing touch just as his middle finger entered your tight warmth. The curl of his digit as he rubbed at your g-spot was almost overwhelming and as soon as he added a second finger you knew you were done for. In an attempt to stave off your impending orgasm so as not to give away how infatuated you were with the man above you, you questioned how he was so skilled with his fingers.

“Where the hell did you learn all this Munson” you groaned with breathless curiosity.

“That’s the thing about us nerds, princess. We love to read.” The amorous cadence to his voice had you clenching around his fingers and he gazed down at you hungrily.

“More, please Eddie, more.” You writhed beneath him, desperate to be filled and feel the burning stretch of his cock. You felt a chill as he lifted himself off of you to go hunting in the cup holders for a condom, but he swiftly returned to you, enveloping you in his warmth once again. You heard the tell-tale snap of latex against skin and you laughed at his inelegance. The laugher was quickly replaced with a hearty moan as he dipped his cock between your folds, collecting your juices. You opened your legs and elevated your hips, gifting him entrance to your silken heat. Eddie tried to be gentle but his inexperience and overwhelming desire had him bottoming out within seconds, his forehead resting on your chest and the layers of his hair tickling your ribs.

“Fucking hell, Eddie, god yes.” You hissed at the pleasure of his lightly pulsating cock. He was already close so you made sure not to clench your walls, convinced it would only take a few thrusts to send you both spiralling over the edge.

Eddie gradually came back to himself and began to rock his pelvis, the tip of his cock brushing effortlessly against your g-spot thanks to the elevation of your hips, now held up by a rapidly dampening cushion. You wrapped your bare calves against his ass in encouragement, wordlessly begging him to pick up the pace and boy did he listen. Within a few thrusts he was pounding into you, biting at your neck and muttering praise with each pump of his hips. You could feel the tightening of your muscles and the edges of your vision were beginning to go white with the pleasure of Eddie moving above you and inside of you, your sweat soaked skin gliding against his own.

“I’m close Eddie, please.”

“Fuck princess.” The thrusting of his hips started to lose it’s rhythm and you could feel his cock twitching and swelling inside of you. The sensation was too much for you to bear and you came around his dick with a cry, your legs trembling wildly against his ass. The clamping of your inner walls had Eddie stuttering and grunting as he came, pushing himself inside of you as deeply as possible with animalistic instinct. His shaking arms lost all of their strength and he fell onto you with a giddy grin, making sure his weight wasn’t crushing you by moving onto his side, breathless and elated.

“Congratulations, you got the promotion” you giggled against his chest, drawing lazy patterns across his tattooed hip as he turned his head to place a soft kiss against your temple.

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