#I rushed into it then it came spiralling down when he left. he ghosted me and a mutual friend for a month

[astroboots]

RED FLAGS ║ PART 4

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Steven Grant x female reader (hints of Marc Spector x female reader)

Summary: Steven disappears and you fall into a rabbit hole trying to decode Marc’s secret message. Or alternatively: Marc needs to communicate better. 

Rating: really gratuitous and detailed sex, writers are clearly super horny.

Warning/content: anxiety, spiraling thoughts, worrying about safety of a partner, clumsy sex-shanigans, the writers being way too obsessed with how freakin' beautiful Steven is.

Word Count: 8.1k

Series Masterlist | Astroboot's Masterlist | Thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist

[PREVIOUS] - [NEXT]

You can’t believe Steven’s gone.

Flinging the quilt aside, you leap out of bed and dash into the loo. Against all logic, you’re hoping that he’ll be standing in front of the sink with a  spare toothbrush in his mouth, ready to wish you good morning through a frothy toothpaste smile. 

He’s not. 

There’s no one here but you. 

Your home is a cramped studio flat with barely enough space for a bed, small sitting area, and an even smaller kitchenette. If Steven were still here, he’d be in plain sight, but somehow you find yourself turning cushions like some kind of madwoman. Inspecting every corner of the room, as if Steven might be hiding behind your washing machine like a goddamn leprechaun. 

There’s nothing. No note left on your kitchen counter. No clothing left behind. No promised breakfast. There’s not even a text message on your phone letting you know that he had to leave early for work. 

With shaky fingers and your heart beating painfully loud in your ears, it takes you three tries to unlock your phone and select Steven from the list of contacts. You lift the phone to your ear and hold your breath, staring blindly at the mess you’ve made of your flat as it rings and rings and rings.

Finally, there’s a click and then Steven’s cheerful voice in your ear, and for the briefest of seconds, relief rushes through your veins. 

“Hiya, this is Steven. I’m not in right now, but leave me a message, and I’ll ring you back as soon as I can. Laters, Gators.” 

You stare at the phone in disbelief. Bile rises until you can taste it, sharp and burning, on your tongue. 

Steven going missing out of the blue on you is hardly novel, but his random disappearances have never made you feel like this before. Experience dictates that Steven will come back safe and sound in a day or two (or a week or two). Right now, however, that knowledge does nothing to dull the panic clawing at your throat, and it takes you a minute before you realise why this is so much worse than all the times that have come before. 

In the past, the worst case scenario was that he’d ghosted you. One more wanker who’d decided to dump you without so much as a courtesy text. But now you know better. Steven wouldn’t do that. He’s not disappearing on you by choice. He’s gone because someone else, Marc has taken over. And taken him away.

Now, you’re pacing the length of your flat, nearly in tears, the worst case scenario something you cannot even begin to fathom. 

For all you know, this Marc person has decided that you’ve gotten too close to the truth. Maybe he came to the conclusion that it’s too dangerous to have you around Steven. Maybe, last night was the last time you’ll ever get to see him. 

Back and forth you go across the room, wearing down the carpet pile as your mind spirals with worry. You pop the band on your old wristwatch in and out of place as you go, nails digging into your wrist as you tug at it until you slip and the metal pin jabs your wrist. 

Then you spot it: the writing on your hand. The long string of numbers, ten digits in all, that Marc had written on the centre of your palm last night. 

In a mad scramble, you dig up a notebook and quickly copy them down for safekeeping. You spend the rest of the day trying to decipher their meaning. 

Your first thought is that it’s a phone number, but when you try dialling it, you get an automated message that no such number exists. 

Your next theory is that the numbers might be coordinates. But when you attempt to plot them using an online grid reference finder, the results are meaningless. Depending on how you input the digits they point you to a handful of different locations—China, Romania, the middle of the Celtic Sea—none of which mean anything to you. The majority of the number combinations you try do not exist at any known map locations.

Panicked by your failure, your mind scrambles for other possible explanations. Thinking that it might be a mathematical equation or a password of some kind, you pull out your calculator and another notebook, trying to make any sort of sense of the only hint you've been given.

By the time you leave for work Monday morning, your desk is starting to look like a landfill. The wooden surface is littered with crumpled up paper and sticky-notes filled with nonsensical scribbles of numbers and letters that were the results of randomly adding, subtracting and dividing the ten numbers on your hand. If anyone walked in on your flat, they would think you’re a particularly unhinged conspiracy theorist. 

In all fairness, they wouldn’t be too far off, because you’re beginning to feel a bit like one. Haring off on one pointless wild goose chase after another, halfway to plotting out your suspicions on the wall with pins and string.

More days go by, and you spend every waking moment (and many moments you should be sleeping) trying to solve the mystery. It becomes a consuming obsession. You’re distracted both at home and at work, your poor coworkers forced to pick up the slack while your mind stays firmly on the puzzle of Steven.

Your lack of sleep leads to increasingly wild theories. You’re convinced that those ten digits are somehow the key to everything. An unfounded belief based on nothing but your own desperate hope that if you manage to crack the code, a congratulation banner and confetti will fall from the sky with a big bow-wrapped present containing Steven as the final prize. 

Unfortunately, you’re not the best at puzzles, and the galling irony is that the most qualified person to solve this riddle is the very same person you’re desperately missing. 

By the time you leave work on Thursday, you’re frustrated, exhausted from sustaining a near-frantic level of worry, and no closer to finding a solution than you were at the start. Steven is still out there somewhere, and you decide that you’ve waited long enough. Maybe even too long. He could have had his kidney harvested and be half-dead in an alley for all you know. Hurt and dying, while you’ve wasted time grasping at straws.

You’ve decided to finally file a missing person’s report with the police when you exit the tube to find a new text notification on your phone.

+x xxx xxx xxxx He’s safe.

You stare at the message for a long time, too overcome with relief to immediately make the connection between the numbers on your hand and your phone screen. When the epiphany hits, you feel like the dumbest person alive. Ten numbers… It wasn’t a puzzle or some obscure treasure hunt to lead you to Steven. It’s Marc’s bloody mobile number. It’s an American mobile number and he didn’t include the fucking country code 

He’s safe. Steven’s safe. 

Wiping what is close to the beginning of tears on your sleeve, you pull the phone closer and type out a message in reply. 

You Is Steven okay? Where is he? 

There’s no answer. 

Not that evening or the day after. And the relief you felt at first slowly drains away.  

The text is a consolation prize. It’s not Steven wrapped with a bow and wrapping paper. This is not the answer you needed, but, you try to remind yourself, at least it’s something. 

Steven is safe. 

You repeat it like a mantra in your head, and it gives you some comfort… for a while. Soon it's overtaken by an intrusive voice asking a question that you don’t want to hear. 

But what if he isn’t?

Any residual consolation you were feeling gives way, and anxiety overwhelms you as you imagine all the terrible scenarios that could have befallen Steven, each more horrifying and improbable than the last. 

You can't shake the paranoia that the matching numbers are just a coincidence. There's nothing in the text itself that says it’s from Marc. Or about Steven. It could just as easily be a timely telephone scam. 

Is there anyone who hasn’t received a random automated call informing them that someone they know has been in a car accident? There are thousands of these calls a day in the UK, scammers hoping to find some dimwit waiting for a call from a loved one. 

Maybe today, you’re the dimwit. 

You can count the hours of sleep you’ve gotten since Steven disappeared on one hand. 

You need to sleep, but even as exhausted as you are, you just can’t. Instead, you're having a staring competition with your ceiling, and so far you’re winning. 

You’re worrying yet again about Steven. You wonder where he is. If he’s really safe. What he—or Marc—has been doing all this time.

A full week has gone by, and you still haven’t heard anything from Steven himself. You haven’t had any further communication from the unknown number that may or may not be Marc either. 

Marc. 

Rolling onto your side, you stare off into the darkness of your flat. 

The concept of Marc is still an enigma to you. As far as you can tell, he’s entirely distinct from Steven. Not only are his mannerisms different, but he calls himself by another name and talks about Steven as if they’re separate people. 

There is another person inside of Steven that is markedly not Steven. 

In the complete darkness of your flat, your sleep deprived brain tries to make sense of what that actually means, but you can’t. There’s so much you don’t know.

Rolling back across the bed the other way, you reach for your phone. 

Midnight is not the ideal time to do research, but what does it matter? You’re not likely to sleep regardless. 

Your first pit stop is Google, but that does you no favours. As always, no matter what symptoms you put into the search bar, WebMD is determined to convince you that it’s cancer. 

Instead, you end up trawling through NHS’ homepage well past midnight, ending up in a wormhole of health issues until you land on the symptoms for Dissociative Identity Disorder: 

They may feel the presence of other identities, each with their own names, voices, personal histories and mannerisms.

The main symptoms of DID are:

» memory gaps about everyday events and personal information

» having several distinct identities

And there it is, written in plain Arial font. The conclusion you’ve been trying not to jump to. The inescapable reality behind all those red flags Steven’s been waving in front of your nose from the very start. 

You stare at the words on the page, reading and re-reading them. You don’t know what to think or how you feel about your discovery. The only thing you do know is that you are wholly unqualified to handle any of this. 

As far as you know, you've never met anyone—anyone else?—with DID. Your only previous exposure to the disorder has been through movies like Psycho, Split, Basic Instinct… Movies that depict the character with a mental health condition as a psychotic murderer or one in the making with sensationalist glee. 

You don’t believe that of course. You know better than to expect sensitive and accurate representation from Hollywood blockbusters. That’s a bit like reading The Sun and expecting truthful and unbiased news reports.

The problem is that knowing all of this doesn’t solve anything.

All you do know is that you miss Steven. You’re scared—terrified for him—and want him back with you. 

Fuck Marc for taking him away.

The devil himself must have heard you, his ears burning. Your phone pings out in the silence at that moment, interrupting your thoughts. The screen flashes, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness before you can read the incoming message. 

+x xxx xxx xxxx Steven will be back tomorrow. Don’t mention me. 

You stare at the phone as you reread the text once and then again. There’s no ambiguity this time; there can’t possibly be. 

Back. 

Steven. 

Steven is coming back to you. 

You barely have time to rejoice over the fact before those last three words hit you. Their meaning settles heavily in your gut, burning at the lining of your stomach until you think you might be sick all over your duvet.  

It’s a warning. The wolf is at your door. 

And just like that, the curtain’s pulled back, and you see Steven’s disappearance for what it is: a sick display of the power Marc holds over him. Over you both. A demonstration of how your life with Steven continues only at his whim. Those three words are an order and a stomach churning threat all in one. 

Mention Marc, reveal his existence to Steven, and he will take Steven from you.

For the first time, you understand why Steven has always been alone, and anger burns in your blood. Steven is being held hostage in his own body, and he doesn’t even know it. And you’re being blackmailed into lying to the man you love. 

You want to tell Steven the truth immediately. You want to scream it from the bloody rooftops. 

But you don’t want to lose him.

Selfish as it may be, you want to keep Steven in your life for as long as you can. At the very least, if you’re together, maybe you can protect him from Marc. Make sure he’s safe.

Isn’t that better than telling Steven the whole truth only to have Marc take him away from you? The only thing that would achieve is to relegate Steven back to a life of loneliness.

No. It wouldn’t do any good to tell Steven now. You can’t go in blindly when Marc has such a strong upper hand. You need more information, a plan, or at least some kind of strategy before you risk doing anything that might result in Steven being spirited away from you again. 

With your ear pressed to your pillow, you stare at the text, struggling to keep your eyes open. You turn the brightness up so far that it’s painful to look at, blinking away sleep until you’re unable to fight it anymore. 

A knock on the door wakes you. 

Squinting one eye open, you find the room flooded with light, bright and blinding. Your mouth tastes like harsh cotton, and your throat is sore when you swallow. 

You don’t know when you fell asleep last night, but it’s five to eight now according to your alarm clock. Your shoulders are stiff and aching, body protesting the lack of rest.

Sleep concussed as you are, you fumble towards the door, relying on memory rather than sight to navigate your surroundings. You don’t even make it to the middle of the room before you trip over your ottoman. 

Pain shoots out from the nub of your toe, and you barely manage to stop yourself from face planting. With a curse and a pending bruise forming on your foot, you hobble the rest of the way towards your door and unlock it. In your struggle, you don’t even bother to check the peephole to see who is at your door. 

You slide the door open, scarcely paying attention. At first, all you see is a much-too-loud novelty print and flowers wrapped in cellophane in the open doorway. Your brain stalls for several heartbeats, before you drag your eyes upwards. 

It’s Steven.

Sporting messy hair and an ill-fitting jumper, at least two sizes too large, he’s standing in front of you, hugging a fresh bouquet of flowers to his chest. 

“Hiya,” he greets you with a small wave of his free hand, a besotted smile on his face as though everything in his world is just as it should be. 

You blink. For a second, everything slows. You’re not sure if you’re ready to allow yourself to believe that this is real. If this is a dream, the disappointment of waking up with him not here will break you. 

“I got us some breakfast,” Steven says and steps inside, clumsily closing the door behind him with the side of his shoulder, “and there were these tulips at Sainsburys. Pink, your favourite.” 

He's here. Steven's actually here.

His face beams with pride as he looks up at you. “I know you said to stop getting flowers unless there’s an actual special occasion, but I thought spending the morning together after our first official sleepover is pretty special, and more importantly–” 

Your stomach drops. 

He doesn’t know. Steven clearly still thinks it’s the morning after. Doesn’t realise that a whole week has gone by since he spent the night here. 

Putting the flowers down on your kitchen counter, he turns to face you, holding up a wax paper bag with a delighted smile. 

“Et voilà! Croissants au chocolat for the lady. I’ll just pop them in the microwave real quick—I know you like them hot—and then I’ll make us some tea, yeah?” 

Steven is in your home, standing in the kitchen, smiling at you and spoiling you rotten, like he hadn't just disappeared off the face of the earth for a week. Because as far as Steven's aware, he’s been here with you all night after falling asleep watching animal documentaries. 

Right now, in front of you, he’s acting out the morning-after the two of you were supposed to have but a week too late, making you the breakfast he promised.

Your throat closes, and a liquid burn rises in your chest, making it hard to breathe. You can feel the threat of tears behind your eyes.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Steven drops the bag of croissants onto the counter and rushes over to you. “Did something happen while I was gone?” 

“No. I just–” You take a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself. 

Breaking down now won’t do either of you any good. You can’t tell him what’s wrong. Not without risking him being taken away forever. 

“I’m happy you’re here," you say, trying to fake a smile. 

You’re a rubbish liar. Always have been. It’s no surprise that Steven doesn’t buy it for a second. 

"Those are obviously not happy tears, love. What's going on? Have I done something wrong?"

His hands draw up to cup your face, one thumb skimming gently over the single tear that’s escaped onto your cheek. He tilts your chin up until you meet his gaze, and it’s like something clicks behind those sharp eyes. 

"It's because I wasn't here when you woke up, isn't it?" he asks gently.

You bite your lip. It’s such an oversimplification of what’s happened, but you don’t know how else to explain it to him, so you nod. A half-truth at best, but at least it’s only a lie by omission.

"’Course it is,” he soothes. “That would bother anyone, yeah?"

You let yourself collapse against him, hugging him tight around the middle as you bury your face in his chest. He lets out a quiet oof, but you refuse to let go and despite his obvious physical discomfort, Steven doesn't protest. He wraps his arms reassuringly around you, blanketing himself around you in comforting warmth.

“I’m sorry, I should have left a note. Don’t know why I didn’t. I was so sleep deprived that I don’t even remember leaving this morning. I must’ve thought it was only going to take a second, but the next thing I know, I’m in the dairy aisle and this lady with a stroller is looking at me funny."  

One large, gentle hand smooths over your shirt at the small of your back, and you shiver pleasantly at the warmth of the doting touch.

"I'm sorry," he says again, voice soft, "I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Closing your eyes, you take a second to let the comfort of his words and his arms around you seep in. You tilt your head upwards, pressing your nose to the hollow dip of his throat, right below his Adam's apple. He smells faintly of stale air and alcohol, covered up by the unfamiliar scent of cheap hotel soap. Your chest squeezes painfully at the reminder of his double life, one that neither of you know the details of. 

Even with Steven here in your arms, you cannot escape the reality that you’ll always have to share him with something you cannot understand. 

You don't move, instead, you press your mouth to that same spot on his throat, feeling his pulse beat steadily against your lips. 

He's here, the beat says. He's safe, he's alive. 

Nuzzling into the delicate skin, you’re rewarded with a keen gasp that makes the small hairs on your neck rise. His fingers flex against your waist with that familiar trademark hesitation, before settling there, hardly even resting against you. 

After all this time, it’s like he’s still scared you’re going to tell him no. As if your relationship is some kind of practical joke on him, and if he reaches for you first, you’ll laugh in his face. 

He was too afraid to mention the first night in case you’d get upset. He thought you were going to break up with him when you said you two needed to talk. It’s almost funny in a macabre sort of way that Steven doesn’t realise just how deep you’re in it over him. If he only knew of the sleepless nights you’ve suffered. How you’ve been sick to your stomach over missing him. Willing to bargain with the devil just to get to keep him. 

You kiss him again, trying to use his closeness to drown out all the things you can’t say. Pressing your lips to that sweet little spot where his jaw meets his throat. You do your best to savour the hint of stubble that tickles against your bottom lip. 

Steven shivers and then pulls back slightly, ducking his head to close the distance between your lips. A barely there touch, then Steven’s thumb catches behind your ear, timidly guiding you closer. 

That one kiss continues into several small chaste kisses, each press of his lips soft and devoted like he’s thanking you for letting him. It’s so pure, the kind of kisses that have your toes curling in delight and your ears tingling. But it’s restrained in a way that you’ve not got the patience for right now. 

Not after a whole week of his absence. Not when you’ve spent those seven days unsure if you would ever get to see him again. You want so much more than this. Can’t bear the fraction of a moment when his lips are not on yours when he breaks up his kisses to allow you to catch your breath. 

You want all of him all at once.

Your hand clutches at the collar of his shirt, pulling him in closer. His breath stutters, mouth parting slightly, and you take the opportunity to lick over the swell of his bottom lip before you bite down, trying to be gentle. 

It must be the reassurance Steven needs, because he groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening. His hands dig into the plump flesh above your hips, kneading it with strong fingers, and there it is, that eagerness and hunger for you that you’re heedlessly in love with. The duality of Steven Grant. It's desperate, sweet and almost aggressive. One hand moves to grip the base of your neck, pulling you flush against him, chest to chest, eliminating the last of the physical distance between you.

It’s exactly what you need, and for a long, hot, breathless moment, you’re not thinking of anything except him. When he finally breaks off the kiss, you lean after him, chasing his lips. 

“Bed?” he asks, the word a low rasp against your seeking mouth. 

You nod eagerly and grab for him, recapturing his lips and giving him a tug in the right direction.

It’s clumsy and desperate as you let Steven manoeuvre the two of you through your flat. You’re blindly walking backwards, guided only by Steven’s outstretched hand fumbling against the surfaces of the wall to make sure you don’t bump into furniture. 

You kiss him like you’ve been held under water, deprived of air and his beautiful mouth is oxygen filling your lungs. Every step is an uncoordinated mess that nearly has you tipping over if it wasn’t for Steven holding you upright. It’d be far easier if you only let go. Would only take seconds in your tiny flat to get from the kitchen to the bed. But you’re not willing and Steven is only happy to indulge you. 

His mouth is warm and slick, hands large and firm. The warmth of his body against yours, comforting and alive. It’s all you can focus on as you forget your surroundings. Until something heavy and blunt pushes back against the inside of your calf. 

The surprise makes you lose your balance. You fall backwards, the whole room tilting as you’re sent sprawling. When things stop moving, you find yourself flat on your back, less than half a foot away from your bed. You’re still staring up at Steven’s shocked face and outstretched hands when you realise what (literally) hit you. 

Bloody cockblocking ottoman. 

The pitched dark hunger disappears from those brown eyes in an instant. Instead they’ve gone round and doelike with concern as Steven rushes forward, falling to his knees in front of you, and draws your leg into his lap.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been more careful and watched where we were going. Bloody stupid of me, I practically pushed you. Are you hurt?”

“It’s fine, Steven. I’m fine. You didn’t push me. It’s alright,” you tell him. 

But his eyes are already darting over your lower leg, and his hands quickly follow, gingerly rubbing your ankle and feeling up over your calf with great care, making your skin prickles under his fingers.  It’s a credible imitation of Florence Nightingale, but as sweet as it is to have Steven tend to you, it's not the sort of attention you want from him right now.

"Leave off the fussing, please?" you ask him softly. 

“Should we–maybe I should get you on the bed yeah? You might be hurt and–”

Leaning up, you place kisses on his jaw, his cheeks, the swell of his lip, hoping to distract him. "I need you, Steven. Don't stop. I don't want to stop right now."

His eyes are still wide and worried, as his hand smooths over the bend of your knee in comfort. “You’re sure you're alright? That I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m sure.” You grab his collar and lean back, dragging him on top of you as you lie back onto the floor.  

Steven follows, letting you pull him down without a hint of resistance, and clambering forward until he’s completely above you. His large frame looms over yours on the floor, thick thighs straddling your waist, and you’re reminded all over again that one of your favourite facets of Steven is how cooperative he is. Always so eager to please you, and you have zero compunction about taking advantage.

“Take this off,” you order, tugging at his jumper impatiently. 

He nods hastily. “Right, right.” 

Ever so good at following your orders, Steven’s hand immediately reaches for the bottom of the garment. He grabs the hem and pulls, revealing a tantalising sliver of golden skin above the waistband of his trousers. You’re so focused on the slowly widening swath of his bare stomach, that it’s not until he pauses, a clumsy snarl of fabric tangled around his head and shoulders, that you realise he’s attempted to take off his jumper and the shirt beneath all in one go and gotten himself stuck. 

Honestly, you’re not even surprised. On any other occasion, you’d be smiling at his adorable ridiculousness, but it's been a week. One hundred and sixty-eight endless hours since you’ve gotten to hold him and touch him like this—uncertain if you’d ever get to—and now each additional second of delay feels like an eternity.

Finally, with another sloppy tug and an impatient groan, the tangled mess of clothing gives, and Steven’s bare-chested on top of you. He’s all strong, sleek muscles, as gorgeous and well-defined as those cut from marble on statues of Greek deities displayed in the very same museums that Steven himself tends to. 

It should’ve been obvious from the start. You want to burst out in laughter at your own naivety. Why on earth would a man who works at a gift shop and spends his free time with his nose buried in dusty old books have a body like this? How has Steven never questioned his own physique? Does he think that all men just wake up looking like this without any effort? 

The sun from the window shines soft over his shoulder and arms. The thin gold chain dangles from his long neck, glistening in the light. He is all warm and golden, soft for your hands to freely wander over the bare expanse of his skin. 

Your hand cups the back of his neck, teasing at those ridiculously soft curls with your fingers, before scraping the base of his scalp with the gentlest strength. You’re marvelling at how prettily his eyelashes flutter and the way he sighs with a blissful shiver makes you smile. 

Sliding down, your hand roams over the carved muscle of his shoulder blade, over his back, pressing a line of soft kisses on the column of his neck. They flex under your touch, as Steven keens softly and you take comfort in the fact that if there was ever proof that Steven is here with you, it’s this. The heavy weight of him on top of you. The fast beating pulse of his throat under your lips. The feel of him hardening against your belly. 

Reaching for his belt, you fumble with the buckle until it finally gives with a metallic clank. Then you shove one greedy hand under the loose waistband of his trousers, slipping it into his underwear. 

He’s hot and hard. Flesh smooth to your touch. Your fingers curl around the thick girth, giving him a firm, indulgent stroke, from base to blunt tip, tracing every ridge. Steven gasps and shudders at your touch, slumping forward like he’s unable to support his own weight and pressing his forehead into your collarbone with a quiet whine. 

You close your eyes at the sound of it, feeling him all around you. 

This is what you’ve been missing, what you’ve been desperately needing, all week. Immersing yourself in the moment—in him—as fully as possible, you draw in a deep breath and give him another stroke just to hear him make that noise again. You let his reassuring presence wash over you, try to let it convince you that he’s really here. 

Wherever he’s been this last week, he’s here, right now, with you.

Then suddenly he’s not. 

Out of nowhere, the protective weight and warmth of him is rising away. Alarm crowds your senses, and in a moment of instinctual panic, your hand shoots up, grabbing his arm. 

"Don't go!"

You open your eyes to find Steven still right there next to you. He's frozen with one hand outstretched above the open drawer of your nightstand, a look of shocked surprise on his face.  

Oh God. He wasn’t going anywhere at all, he was just getting a condom. 

Your cheeks flush with embarrassed heat at the realisation.

"Sorry," you mumble, and you duck your chin, "I just–" You don't know how to explain away your massive overreaction, and guilt claws even deeper into your chest as you find yourself offering up yet another half-lie.

"I had a nightmare that you left. Disappeared, and I couldn’t find you.” 

You can’t believe it’s your own voice that you’re hearing. It sounds so small. Ugly in its neediness. If this was any other man, you’re sure they’d be running for the hills by now. It’s a miracle Steven hasn’t. “It’s silly. Sorry.”

Steven frowns with sympathy, worry etched all around his beautiful eyes. "You don’t have to be sorry, love." He closes the drawer, condom in hand. Then he's leaning back down to press his lips to your hairline. “It’s not silly.”

"But hey, listen,” he murmurs, resting his forehead briefly against yours. “I’m not going anywhere, am I? No. Not except maybe down to the shops."

One warm hand comes to cup your face, and he’s looking at you with so much sincerity that it takes your breath away.

"I would never leave you. Never. Not ever, I swear. Not so long as you’ll have me.” He says it with such utter conviction that pain washes over you anew. 

Because it’s not really up to Steven, is it? He may not be able to stay with you, regardless of what he wants.

“You don’t know that." 

The unfairness of the situation, his powerlessness over his own life, has tears pushing hot behind your eyes.

“Then I'll come back, simple as that. No matter what happens. Even if the bloody sky falls down. Even if a fleet of flying saucers brings an army of funny little green men straight out of Mars Attacks to invade the earth tomorrow, I'll still come back to you. Always, alright? I'll always come back to you.”

The lump still sits heavily in your throat, but you choke out an amused laugh at the imagery Steven draws for you. He smiles victoriously in return. It lights the whole room, and you reach for him again, wrapping your arms around his neck because you need to pull him close and kiss him. 

In this moment, you allow yourself to believe. Against all flashing red signs pointing otherwise, you choose to believe that he will keep this promise. That whatever circumstances arise, even if Marc takes him away again, Steven will always come back to you. 

“Okay,” you say, with a smile stretching wide across your lips, and you can feel the dark weight lifting as you nod at him. 

Steven mirrors your smile, returning your kiss and that’s all it takes before the last morsel of doubt lifts. 

His hands reach down, shimmying his trousers down his ample hips. You help him, hooking your thumb at the hem to drag them down the rest of the way, and he kicks them off his ankle. 

Then finally, the warmth of his bare thighs is against yours, and you both gasp. It’s fucking bliss to feel him like this.  Naked and warm, pressed up against every inch of you, his weight holding you down against the floor, the length of him lying hard and heavy against your belly. 

He anchors himself on one elbow, as he rips the foil wrapper, lifting off of you slightly. 

You miss the contact immediately. It’s like the week apart has left you even more attuned to him, hyper-aware of all the places you’re no longer touching. You watch impatiently as he turns to one side just enough to give himself room, rolling the condom down over his cock with gratifying speed. 

His hands are steady, his movements sure, nothing like that first night where both of you struggled to make sense of the stubborn rubber in the near-dark of his flat. By now, the two of you have done this often enough that Steven knows every step of the routine like the back of his hand, clumsy eagerness replaced by practised ease. 

Anticipation and longing beat loud in your chest at the sight of him, eyes dark, cock in hand as he positions himself at your entrance. You reach for him, unable to stand the distance between the two of you, and he smiles fondly at you and leans down obligingly, resting his bodyweight on top of yours like a heavy blanket. 

It’s fucking perfect. Exactly what you need, and your body opens for him, knees falling outward, hips canting up, heels digging into the floor as you arch up, trying to press yourself closer.

He grinds forward, the underside of his cock sliding slick and wet over your folds. Pleasure rises hot and overwhelming between your thighs at the stimulation, and an unflattering high-pitched noise escapes from the corner of your lungs. It’s like your whole body is strung on a thin line of thread. Overwhelmed by the barest contact after a week of having none. You’re not sure how you’re going to survive having him inside you when this already feels like so much. You wonder if he feels it too.

Opening your eyes, you see the boyish grin on his face, radiating with pride. He does it again, angling his hips to thrust up as the blunt head of his cock glides wetly over your clit and oh fucking– 

Your hips jerk up involuntarily, pressing harder against him, and Steven gasps, eyes going wide and dark, that teasing grin wiped right off his face. 

“Fuck, Steven–God. I need–” Your fingers dig into the meat of his shoulders, and you don’t know what you’re trying to say—not sure if you want him to stop or do it again—but it doesn’t matter. You never get to finish the rest of your sentence. 

The thick ridge of his cock slips wetly inside you, and the sweet stretch of him, white and blinding, crowds out every other thought in your head. Your cunt squeezes around him at the thick intrusion, and you both moan at the tight pressure. 

He halts, stilling inside you, and dear fucking god, he’s not even all the way in.  

“God, love. You’re squeezing me so tight,” Steven gasps out, “Feels bloody amazing.” The words are soft, but there’s a clear strain in his voice, and his arms are trembling at your sides from the exertion of keeping still. 

He still doesn’t move, and you’re not sure if he needs a moment or is trying to give you one. “I feel like I'm going to lose my mind if I can't be all the way inside you. Can I–”

He hovers above you, and you can feel his cock jerking and straining against you, the only part of his body he can’t fully control. You can’t help the way your body clenches and shivers in response, and he groans, resting his forehead against yours for a long moment as you pant heavily against each other’s lips. 

“Is it alright for me to keep going?” he asks, eventually. 

You try to say yes, but all that comes out is a breathless, choked out sob, as you nod at him frantically. 

It’s all Steven needs. His hips push forward, pressing the rest of the way into you in one long, smooth stroke. The feeling is electric, robbing you of the ability to process anything except the way he fills you, stretching you out as he buries every inch of himself inside you. You can’t think. Can barely breathe. He’s embedded so deeply that there’s no space left in your lungs.

After a long moment, he starts to pull out just as slowly, his eyes fixed on yours. The pace is maddening, a thick, glacial drag that makes you feel every gorgeous inch of him. It leaves you gasping and writhing under him as he continues to retreat until only the tip still rests inside of you. 

Then he does it all again.

He’s so different when he’s like this. His eyes focused, any trace of timidness gone. Everything else, all his usual hesitation and fear and doubt, seems to fade away when he’s inside you.  It’s like you’re the only thing in his world—you and the need to make you feel good. 

Drawing two of his fingers to his mouth, he slides them between his plush lips, and you can see his tongue tracing around them before he pulls them out again, glistening with spit for you. It’s entirely unnecessary. You’re so wet it’s leaking down the length of him and onto the inside of your thighs. But the sight makes your heart race all the same. 

Steven reaches down between your bodies, hand resting above the apex of your thighs where his cock is still nestled inside you. His fingers slide, ever so gently over the slippery, sensitive flesh where you’re stretched wide around him.

“Feel that, love?” he breathes into your open mouth, “I’m right here. You’ve got me.”

His thumb catches at your clit as he gently presses down, and it has you spasming from the sharp pleasure. He gasps, jerking slightly above you, but doesn’t stop. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He continues to draws small, persistent circles over and over your clit that squeezes the very air out of your lungs, replacing everything, with a needy heat. 

Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation. Tears stinging in the corner of your lids. 

It’s still not enough. You want more of him. Need to get closer. 

You press your heels hard against the floor, trying to get better leverage, and grip frantically at his back. Nails biting into his skin, you claw at his shoulder blades as though you’re trying to dig your way in so deep that he’ll never be able to tear himself away from you again. It’s selfish, and you know it must be hurting him, but you can’t seem to be able to stop yourself.

Steven doesn’t stop you either. It’s like he knows that you still need more, and he rolls his hips into you, thrusting deep. His hand grips at the underside of your knees, pulling your legs to wrap them around his waist to let you squeeze your thighs around him, heels digging into the curve of his ass. 

It feels like another way of telling you he’s here. Yours to use. Yours to have. Just… yours.

“Never gonna leave,” he whispers into your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the lobe as if to seal his promise. 

Right now you don’t care if it’s a promise that he might not be able to keep. Not when pleasure, bright and blistering, is surging through you with every roll of his hips. It’s too much, bordering on unbearable. You can’t make out what he’s saying anymore, just soft murmurs and vague shushing. 

It doesn’t matter, because his body is telling you all you need to know. 

Because for all of Steven’s calm and reassuring words, his actions don’t match. His actions are telling you a different story—a more desperate one—full of grasping hands, deep urgent thrusts, and bitten-off gasps. It’s like his body knows how long you’ve been apart and what it’s been missing, even if his mind doesn’t.

His hand palms at your ribs, fingers digging deep crevices in your flesh, holding you tight like he means never to let go. 

Mine, it says. Possessive and hungry. 

His mouth, for all its loving dulcet tones and cooing, never seems to leave your skin for long, sliding over your throat and jaw as if magnetised.

Yours, it promises, just as certainly.

He thrusts inside you, his hands find the bare backs of your thighs as he hooks one leg over his arm, and the new angle has him sliding in impossibly deep until it knocks the air out of your ribs. For a long blissful moment, you swear your whole chest cage is going to collapse.

His cock hits somewhere earth-shattering, and you arch up off the floor, curling into him with a shivering gasp. Heat crackles through every limb, swirling and swelling, sweet and insistent in anticipation of your climax.  It settles deep in your belly, raw and heavy, soothed only by each insistent thrust.

He’s so deep you swear you feel him everywhere, buried inside you like he’s trying to stake a claim and never leave. 

You hope he never does. 

Pushing your hips up to him, you chase the feeling of him hitting that perfect spot, as the warm heat of it flutters in your stomach with each deep stroke. It won’t take much, you’re almost there– 

But you don’t want this to end. Not yet. You want to keep Steven right here inside of you for as long as you possibly can. 

You try to relax the tension in your legs, try to push your hips back down to stave it off. But it’s no good, Steven’s hands are still on you, manhandling you into a position where you can’t escape the perfect, relentless press of his cock inside you.

Not yet, not yet, not yet…

But it’s already there, at the tip of your fingers, so close you can taste it on your tongue. A promise of rapture, whether you want it to or not, and you want to scream and cry and fight the sensation that taunts you as it hangs there. But you can’t seem to do any of those things. It’s like you’ve lost control of your body, your hips lock tight, your throat feels tight and– fuck fuck, you’re– 

“Steven, please. Not yet, I’m–”  Your eyes squeeze shut, hands clawing at the carpet, searching for something to ground yourself with. 

“I’m right here, love,” he murmurs, hand reaching for yours until he finds it and pins it next to your head. He clasps your hand tightly in his, weaving each one of his fingers between yours. “Right here. It’s alright. Let go for me.” 

That’s all it takes. The floor underneath gives under, opening up and swallowing you whole. You feel like you’re floating and falling all at once as you clamour for Steven and hold him close as you fall through the cracks off the edge of the earth. 

Your legs latch around the middle of his waist as you wring out every ounce and drop of the sensation you can. It rushes through you, ripe and overfull, filling every strand of every vein. You’re disorientated, the world narrowing into nothingness. The only thing that still exists is Steven. 

All you can hear is the way his breath is stuttering with effort. 

Can feel the way his even pace falters. Can see the way his brows knit in concentration, his face painted with bliss. 

God, he’s beautiful like this. 

Steven comes with a broken groan. 

It’s so much and so deep and somehow you still want more. Want the feel of him raw and bare inside. Even that thin separation of not even a millimetre of rubber is too great of a separator for you to bear right now. All you want is to feel him spill himself inside you, thick and warm. 

His body goes still and rigid, and then the strength in him gives under, nearly collapsing over you. He stops himself at the last second with a slam of his fist on the floor next to you, bent arms trembling with strain in an effort to keep himself upright. 

It’s a sweet and considerate gesture. He doesn’t want to flatten you with his weight. It’s also completely unnecessary because there’s nothing you want more in this moment. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down the rest of the way. It doesn’t take much of your strength, his elbow gives in and bends further, until he’s flush against you, sweaty and heavy limbs entangling with yours. 

Despite the unbearable stickiness and heat from your exertion, Steven holds you, chest still heaving against yours. His thin necklace slips delicately down over your collarbone, cool where it rests against your overheated skin. The golden pendant is pressed intimately between your breast and his chest.

The morning sun washes over everything inside your flat in a golden hue. Even the dull white of your walls turns into something warm and amber. The only sound permeating the peace is the sound of morning traffic outside. A busted old moped races down the street. Children shouting over a game of tag. The honking of cars trying to get somewhere fast. Outside it is loud, hectic and chaotic. 

But right here, inside the safe bubble of your tiny flat, Steven is warm and heavy over you, the beat of his heart drumming against your chest in a steady pace. 

“Can we stay like this for a while?” you ask. 

He kisses your forehead, uncaring of the way your skin is sticky with sweat, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he squeezes your hand firmly in his. 

“‘Course we can, love. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

~ CONTINUE ~

Once again thanks for everyone coming along for this ride. We're hoping to be posting this on a semi-regular schedule of every two weeks. For anyone who wants to be tagged please sign up to the tag list linked on the series masterlist.

We are beyond grateful for all the comments, reblogs and likes and just interest on this series, and while I can be a bit rubbish at replying sometimes, please know that your words and support inspires us to keep going with this series. 🥰

Dedication & Credits:

It takes a village huh, guys?

All my broken dishes to @the-ginger-hedge-witch because when I told her I wanted Steven to get to rawdog it, she went, "absolutely not, not when Marc is out there whoring around for all we know." (I may or may not be rephrasing but that was the sentiment).

To @radiowallet for listening to my insane and uninformed ramblings about Moon Knight and for giving me a firm guide and steering on how to write our beloved Moon Boys and making sure that everything tracks.

To @write-and-buried for inspiring me with the most absolutely deranged filthy suggestions when my smut inspiration well runs dry. I got really stuck in the sex scene for this one when I decided to in the 11th hour add a sex scene because "it felt right" then proceeding to panic cause I forgot how to write smut and she got me back on track.

And always and forever to my co-writer @thirstworldproblemss who had stayed up endless nights with me discussing the finer details of how twitchy a cock should be, how much it should leak. This series would not exist without her, she turns the rubbish I write into diamonds, she goes through every sentence once-twice-three times and she is always responsible for the best lines in every chapter, her voice for Steven is unparalleled, and I find myself falling more and more in love with this world because of her. I would not be writing this story, and most likely, at all, if it weren't for her and our friendship.

#oscar isaac #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #marvel #mcu #moon knight x you #cici writes #moon knight x reader #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #jake lockley x you #cici moon knight

[betterthanyalls]

I finished it! It’s so late but a friend gave me the idea of why not make it a New Years gift? Jeez, I can’t believe we are in 2024 already! Time flies so fast. Anyways, here ya go! Eat up! I am seriously so sorry this took forever, I didn’t mean for it to take this long but most all my family came over for Christmas Break and then I went on vacation so it took a while. But I still got it done, that’s good right? So uhh here it is!! I hope you like it :D I worked really hard on this:) ALSO RQ, this won’t follow the plot of the og Nutcracker exactly. I had to make changes here and there but I mostly based it off the Sweden Ballet and the Boston Ballet plots. Ok that should be all, enjoy!!

The Nutcracker

Words: 4.9K

Published: 12:00 AM. January 1st 2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laughter and chatter could be heard from the mansion up on the hill. Snow fell calmly outside, the soft winter breeze whisking snowflakes into small spirals before gracefully setting them upon the frosted ground.

Inside the mansion, there was a grand party taking place at the ballroom. Within the party, the host and hostess were walking throughout the Christmas party and welcoming guests. Their only child, Y/n, was talking with the other kids her age. The young 17-year-old was about to turn 18 just a few days after Christmas. The hostess, M/n, waved her daughter over.

When Y/n reached them, M/n handed her an ornament and gestured to the tree. The young girl smiled brightly, nodding and taking a box of ornaments from nearby. Walking over to the tree, Y/n showed the ornaments to the other kids her age. They all took a few ornaments and ran around the tree, trying to find a good place to put theirs.

After a good 20 minutes, the tree was glistening with ornaments, lights, tinsel, and garland, with some random nick-nacks here and there. Y/n and the others took a few steps back to admire their work until a giant gust of wind and the sound of slamming doors caught everyone's attention. All heads whipped to where the sound and wind came from—the grand front doors. Standing in the doorway, shaking off snow, were two people.

Unwrapping their scarves and taking off their hats and coats was revealed to be Y/n’s favorite, and only, uncles. Hector and Ruck Vendolez. The famous adventuring brothers. A glimmering smile enveloped Y/n’s face as she ran up to her two uncles, jumping up onto Hector.

Hector was at first shocked, almost falling over, but after regaining his balance, he hugged his only niece back. Hector spun them in a circle, boisterous laughter arising from the duo. Ruck backed up a little, not fond of physical touch, but had the ghost of a smile.

After hugging for a little bit, the duo parted ways. Y/n turned to Ruck with a much more gentle smile. Ruck rolled his eyes and sighed playfully, opening his arms for the girl. Her gentle smile grew, and she rushed into a hug, holding her cold uncle close.

The hug only lasted a few moments, but it meant the world to both of them. Finally breaking the hug, Y/n grabbed both her uncles hands and dragged them to see the tree that she and other kids helped decorate. Ruck looked at the tree and ruffled Y/n's hair before walking over to her parents. Hector seemed to be lost in thought when gazing at the Christmas tree. Y/n looked over to him with a slight confusion written on her face. She raised her hand and slowly waved it up and down in front of her uncle's eyes. Flinching, Hector came back to reality, offering his only niece a close-eyed smile.

Only now did Y/n notice that Hector was carrying something—a box, it seemed. Y/n gestured to the box, as if asking what it was. Hector took a glance at the present and crouched down, putting it under the tree. The tag on it clearly read, ‘To: Y/n. From: Your favorite uncle’.

Standing back up, Hector noticed Y/n hiding her quiet laughter behind her hand. He tilted his head, making Y/n point to the tag. A chuckle left his mouth. The older one made his way over to his brother Ruck and his sister, M/n, the hostess. Y/n, having nothing better to do, walked back to her new acquaintances.

~~

A few hours passed with games and food and many conversations, but now it was finally time to open the gifts. Everybody found a gift for themselves, and they all sat or stood around the great ballroom.

It took a little while, but all the gifts had been opened. All but one. A simple box that Y/n recognized as the one Hector had earlier sat in Y/n’s lap.

M/n raised her hands to quiet everyone down, then looked to her daughter. Y/n felt all eyes on her, and she wouldn’t lie; she was getting a little uncomfortable with all the attention, yet she powered through. Slowly, she unwrapped the present dedicated to her. A soft gasp left Y/n’s mouth when she saw the gift.

A nutcracker.

And not any nutcracker. It seemed to resemble the demon toon, Bendy, from the popular show Bendy, The Dancing Demon. But instead of his normal attire in a classic tuxedo with suspenders, he is wearing a noble soldier suit.

Y/n had stars in her eyes, moving Bendy’s arms up and down a little. She was in absolute amazement at the gift, like a trance had overcome her. She hugged the gift tightly with a bright smile. This present meant the entire world to her. A younger girl next to Y/n held her hands out for the nutcracker; her body language read that she wanted to hold Bendy. Y/n being polite, let the girl hold her new friend. But alas, it seemed the younger girl didn’t know what manners were.

Showing her friend next to her, the girl passed the present around the circle, not asking for Y/n’s permission. Shocked but too scared to say anything, Y/n was peeved with a valid reason. That was her gift! And these kids just messed with it like it was an old, rotting, cheap toy.

About halfway through the circle, a boy and a girl got into an argument about who got the toy. Their voices grew over the chatting adults. Another boy joined the first boys side, resulting in two girls joining the original girls side. It didn’t take long before every kid in the circle, excluding Y/n, had gotten on a side. Boys are on the left, and girls are on the right. The boy and girl who started this whole ordeal both took part in the nutcracker and pulled.

Underestimating how well it could hold together, the nutcracker flew from both pairs of hands, and the head snapped from the torso of the toy. The entire ballroom became deathly quiet. In shock and panic, each kid backed away from the now-broken gift. Y/n emerged from the crowd and covered her mouth with her hands.

Tears began to well into her eyes, and terror and grief screamed from her body language. Walking forward and kneeling down to her ruined present, she took the head and body in her hands. Looking over to where Hector and Ruck stood, Y/n was about to cry. This was a handmade gift from her uncles; after all, thought and tedious effort went into it, and now it was ruined all because she couldn’t say no.

When Hector made eye contact with his near-sobbing niece, he felt his heart shatter into billions of pieces. He quickly rushed over to Y/n, Ruck following close behind. Hector crouched on Y/n’s left, with Ruck on her right. Ruck placed a hand on her back to help soothe her while his brother took the nutcracker. Hector gently took the gift from his niece's hands and turned away so Y/n didn’t have to see him brutally put the pieces back together.

Hector pushed and twisted the head and torso together until they were firmly connected. He tipped the toy upside down and shook it, making sure the head wouldn’t come off again. Turning back to his niece and brother, Hector gracefully handed Y/n the gift back.

Her expression went from shock to tears and laughter mixed together. Rubbing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around Hector in a giant bear hug. Ruck stood up with a faint smile and began walking back to his sister and brother-in-law, with Hector soon following.

~~

Hours had passed, and everyone had left now. Y/n and M/n were in the hallway to the bedrooms, bidding goodnight to each other. Once the two parted ways, Y/n walked into her bedroom with the nutcracker in her grasp.

When she reached the bed, she set the nutcracker down on her nightstand and turned off the small lamp that illuminated the room. Dozing off almost immediately, she woke up just as abruptly. After waking up, she heard the grandfather clock in the ballroom strike 12. And judging by how dark it was out the window still, Y/n guessed it was 12 a.m.

Shooting herself up into a sitting position, Y/n heard noises coming from the ballroom just down the hall. Slowly creeping out of her bed, Y/n hadn’t noticed that her nutcracker wasn’t on the nightstand anymore.

Walking over to the door and opening it slowly, Y/n peeked out to make sure nobody was there. After seeing nobody in the halls, Y/n tiptoed as fast as she could to the ballroom. When she finally reached the doors, Y/n slipped through them quietly. Making sure she shut the doors behind her. Y/n walked into the room, looking around for what could have made the noise. A scurrying noise sounded behind her, startling the poor girl. Y/n whipped around to see what could’ve caused the scritches on the hardwood floor but found nothing there. Suspicion wrote itself into Y/n’s expression as she raised an eyebrow and slowly turned back to her original position. Another scurrying noise was heard from her left, and Y/n swung to face the noise. Again, there was nothing there.

And with the distraction, she felt clawed hands wrap around her waist and mouth, muffling her yells of protest. Kicking, hitting, and flailing did no good against her attacker. Y/n felt herself being thrown into a metal confinement. Getting up quickly, she saw that she was in a large metal cage that resembled that of a bird's cage. It looked like the one she used to have for her red parrot so many years ago. She missed Panchito, her parrot, so much. But now was not the time for memories. Y/n looked around through the bars of the cage, seeing large humanoid rats partying around the ballroom.

Her parents were going to kill her if they saw this mess! Y/n tried to bang the bars and shout to get the rats to stop, but her attempts at attention were drowned out by the volume of the rats. Y/n felt helpless; no one was there to save her. Loud footsteps could be heard walking towards the ballroom. All the rats heard it and instantly got down on their knees, bowing in pure silence. The girl was frozen in her spot, petrified at what could make the rambunctious rats stop their antics so suddenly.

From one of the side hallways emerged a humanoid rat, taller than any of the others. It had a crown adorning its head and a giant faux-fur cape. The rat was dressed in kingly attire. How the rat seemed to acquire these garments was beyond Y/n. Referencing its physical appearance, Y/n opted to name it ‘The Rat King’. The Rat King strutted in with his head held high, pride radiating off of him. When the Rat King was in the center of the room, he lifted his clawed hands and began a party of his very own. Cheers from the rats that sounded the shrills broke out amongst them.

The rats' cacophony noises bellowed throughout the ballroom, and it made Y/n wonder how none of the servants or her parents had come in yet. A loud banging of a knock was heard at the doors Y/n entered through, and hope glimmered through her—maybe her parents had woken up? Every creature in the room went dead silent, confused or scared. The Rat King tilted his head in confusion but didn’t move. Another knock was heard, a little harsher this time. After a few seconds passed, the knocker must have realized nobody would answer. At least that’s what Y/n was guessing when the doors flung open with a mighty kick. Standing in the doorway was a human figure, and Y/n let out a gasp, recognizing who it was immediately. Her eyes widened, and all her breath left her lungs in a state of horror and shock.

There he was. The Nutcracker. Walking towards the Rat King like it was a daily affair. Y/n pressed her back to the furthest bars in the cage, trying to get away from the whole ordeal. She watched as the Nutcracker, whom she named Bendy for his appearance, stalked towards the Rat King. No expression was written on Bendy’s face; for being alive, he looked to still keep all his wooden attributes. She watched with an open mouth as Bendy stopped walking and reached to his side, pulling out glistening metal. The steel blade pierced through the light of the glowing candle embers that decorated the ballroom graciously.

The wooden toy gripped the handle of the blade firmly. His painted eyes could only stare lifelessly at the creature in front of him. And with a sudden spark of life, Bendy slashed his sword at the Rat King. Stunned, the Rat King jumped back and swung his sharp claws at Bendy. The two fought as Y/n and the other rats watched in awe.

Sharp clangs from claws on metal rang throughout the room like church bells. The Rat King and Bendy fought like a dance: one step forward, one step left, two steps back, one step right, repeat. The males moved in a circular formation during the dance. Neither seemed to have the upper or lower hand at any time; it was a well-even match. That was until the Rat King wrapped his tail around Bendy's leg and dragged him to the floor, pressing his long claws against Bendy’s wooden neck and beginning to split the wood. Frightened, Y/n reached down and took off her shoe, throwing it through the bar gaps and hitting the Rat King on the back of the head. Distracted and furious, the Rat King let go of Bendy and looked to Y/n. This gave Bendy the chance to drive his sword through the Rat King's back. A shrill pierced through the air, and the Rat King fell to the ground lifelessly.

The rats screeched in panic and ran around the ballroom in disorganized chaos. Amongst this chaos, Y/n couldn’t see her nutcracker anymore and closed her eyes tight as a bright light filled the room for a split second. When the light had vanished, Y/n slowly opened her eyes to see Bendy, who was no longer wood but now a living being in prince attire, offering her a hand to help her out of the newly broken cage. Taking his hand carefully, Y/n hopped out of the cage. And in the moment of pure impulse and gratefulness, Y/n placed a soft kiss on Bendy’s cheek.

In shock but with a giddy smile and a flustered expression, Bendy put a hand up to the cheek Y/n had kissed. Shaking away his embarrassment and fluster, he held his hand out to Y/n as an offer. Y/n tilted her head in confusion, not knowing what he was offering. Bendy made a sweeping motion with his hand behind the two of them, as if to offer a journey. Y/n looked behind her to the doorway that led to her parents bedroom. She turned her attention back to Bendy and nodded slowly, putting her hand in his.

The nutcracker prince led the two of them to the grand entrance doors that would lead them outside. When Bendy opened the doors, Y/n shivered at the cold air rushing inside. Y/n just realized that she had been wearing her pajamas this whole time. Feeling a little embarrassed, Y/n covered her body with her open arm. In front of the duo was a sleigh, all decked with decor, with reins holding onto two pristine white horses. Their coats gleamed in the winter moon, and snow fell invisibly upon them. Her eyes widened in surprise. When did this get here? Bendy led the teen to the passenger side of the sleigh and helped her into it. When Y/n was situated, the prince walked around and got into the driver's side. He made sure Y/n was sitting comfortably before shaking the reins with a low-medium force, signaling the horses to begin trotting forward.

Not expecting the sudden movement, Y/n fell back a little into Bendy’s side. But he didn’t seem to mind. While still keeping a hand on the reins, the nutcracker helped his companion back to a proper sitting position. Embarrassed once more, the teen looked away with a sheepish blush covering her upper cheeks. Eventually getting over her self-shame, Y/n took a chance to look around.

Through the darkened night, snowflakes danced down in a waltz. The wind sang its winter song, and the moon shone down in the spotlight of the snowy stage called Earth. The horses strode undisputed through the snow, letting the sleigh glide effortlessly across the snow. As they rode onward, the quartet of beings entered a forest. Y/n was in awe of the beauty of the trees. She couldn’t tell what type of trees they all were with how dark it was, but Y/n noticed the Willow branches drooping near the path. Only the bioluminescent mushrooms made the trunks of the trees known. Sparkling icicles on the branches reflected the moon's loving gaze.

Soon they arrived at an open area within the center of the forest. The horses directed the sleigh to the edge of the clearing and stopped there for a break. As if on cue of the horses stopping, soldiers in blue and white clothing and snowflake designs stomped into the clearing. The soldiers stood in two perfectly parallel lines. Bendy stood up in the sleigh and put one hand on Y/n’s shoulder, holding her tightly, and his other hand was placed on the hilt of his sword, which was sheltered in its scabbard. But thankfully, before any fighting could happen, two other figures walked between the soldiers. The two figures had their arms linked to each other. Like the soldiers, they were wearing blue and white attire with snowflake patterns.

The two figures, male and female, looked like a king and a queen. It would fit in with the soldiers if they were the rulers. The king and queen walked up next to the sleigh and introduced themselves, adding that they meant no harm and did not mean to frighten Y/n and Bendy. The nutcracker in question slowly sat down and released his grip on his hilt, keeping his hand on Y/n’s shoulder as he kept a close eye on the royalty. Y/n smiled brightly and greeted the monarchs, introducing herself and Bendy since he was too busy watching them with a glare to try and be friendly.

After chatting for a bit, the Snow King and Queen (as they were named) offered Y/n and Bendy to dance. At first, Y/n and Bendy were both going to decline. Y/n declined for the fact she was still in her pajamas and the cold, and Bendy had to ‘uphold his dignity’. But his mind changed the moment he took a glance at Y/n, seeing how her face was illuminated in the moonlight. Quietly and unknowing to his female friend, Bendy exited the sleigh and walked around the back of it so as not to disturb the horses. When he finally reached the side with royalty, he nodded in agreement for a dance. Turning to face Y/n, he held his hand out to her as an invitation. Taken aback, Y/n tilts her head slightly with a nervous smile. Bendy returned the smile, but with a more welcoming feel. He kept his hand held out, and Y/n stared at it for a few moments before letting out a sigh and taking his hand.

Bendy helped Y/n out of the sleigh as the two companions and the royalty made their way to the center of the clearing. With both duos in the correct stance, the dance began. The soldier snowflakes had taken out some instruments and began to play music to help accommodate a waltz. As the music began, the prince led the unlikely duo into a beautiful waltz. Soft music glimmered around the icicles and flowed around the two dancers like a calm stream not yet frozen by the winter. Being so distracted by each other, Y/n and Bendy hadn’t noticed the king and queen had stopped dancing to watch the young love.

As the music went on and on, Bendy couldn’t help but get lost in Y/n’s eyes. Her eyes dazzled in a beauty that was lost to the world. Dancing with her was something he would have never expected to do. Y/n was simply mesmerized throughout the dance. She couldn’t explain her feelings based on how fast they were going around inside her. It was only a few minutes of dancing, but it felt like an eternity that neither of them wanted to leave. Alas, the music soon stopped, and Bendy dipped Y/n down. They stayed like that for a moment, taking in the moment and staring at each other like there was nothing else important in the world and only this mattered. After a few seconds, Bendy cleared his throat and brought Y/n up and out of the dip. Y/n rubbed the back of her neck and looked away in embarrassment. It took a bit, but eventually they both got over their fluster. When they did, both Y/n and Bendy thanked the king and queen for the dance invitation and the peace before getting back into the sleigh.

When both were situated in their spots, Bendy took the reins and whipped them softly. Y/n turned and gave the king and queen a farewell wave, with the royalty waving back. Now facing forward, Y/n took a few side glances at Bendy to see what he was doing. The prince in question had a look of focus and deep thought in his expression. Not wanting to disturb his mind, Y/n just looked at the scenery around them. It was still clearly night and would stay like that for quite a while, but that didn’t take away from nature's delightful view. The way the frost laid itself upon the passing tree branches so gracefully was simply angelic. It didn’t take long for Y/n to notice all the snow turning into what looked like cotton candy. Confused, she looked around more. The tree trunks were replaced by candy canes, and the branches were taken over by licorice. Rocks became gumdrops, and all the ice and icicles became frosting. A smile broke onto Y/n’s face as she looked over to Bendy. He was looking around with a smile, too. Looking back to the scenery around, Y/n reached out carefully to take a handful of the cotton candy snow. When she got her desired amount, she turned to Bendy and showed him. Nodding to each other, the two of them shared the cotton candy. The sweet was delectable and scrumptious to their sense of taste. Being distracted by the candy, the duo hadn’t noticed that the sleigh had stopped in front of a grand palace.

At the whinny of one of the horses, Y/n finally looked around. Her lips parted slightly in awe as a small gasp left her mouth. Y/n stood up from her seat on the immobile sleigh to get a better view. A luxurious castle was only a few paces before her. But just as she was taking it in, a large group of guards—who looked like an assortment of candies—surrounded the sleigh and held up sharp spears. Her initial awe turned into immediate shock. She took a step back as much as the sleigh would allow. Y/n felt the sleigh shift from behind her, and she immediately whipped around, afraid it might be one of the guards. But to her relief, it was only Bendy standing up. He had a look of determination on his face as he stood. Raising her hands out slightly, he gestured for the guards to stand down. Now it was the candy guards' turn to be shocked before every one of them fell into a kneeling position. In confusion, Y/n stared at Bendy with furrowed eyebrows. Said nutcracker looked to his female friend and grinned at her before exiting the sleigh.

Bendy walked over to Y/n’s side of the sleigh and grabbed her arm gently, guiding her off the vehicle and to the large, fanciful doors that led into the palace. Without even having to touch the doors, they swung open, and a great gust of wind from who knows where swept the duo into the main room, the throne room. Sitting gracefully on the only throne in the room was someone Y/n could only describe as an angel. Words couldn’t describe the magnificence and beauty Y/n felt radiating off the person on the throne.

The Sugar Plum Fairy.

Y/n could recall faint memories that seemed to flow around her of her mother telling Y/n of the fairy tale. Stories of the Sugar Plum Fairy’s gentleness and kindness to all things living and nonliving. Stories of how the fairy could make anything into candy or sweet by the single thought of it. The legendary fairy now simply sat on her throne with a skeptical expression pointed towards Y/n. But before the Sugar Plum Fairy could say a word, Bendy stepped in and began explaining how Y/n saved his life when fighting the Rat King. He went into great detail about how his neck was almost split in two until she managed to distract the rat and give the nutcracker enough time to get back up and slay the beast. At this revelation, the Sugar Plum Fairy’s expression became one of joy, shock, relief, and thankfulness. In her gratitude, the fairy rose from her throne and threw her arms up in the air, signaling all the happy servants to come forward with celebration decor. The Sugar Plum Fairy walked down the throne steps and over to the teenage girl in front of her. When the fairy was only about a foot or two away from Y/n, the Sugar Plum Fairy turned to her left and waved her hand for a servant to walk over. The servant, who looked to be a peppermint, scurried over with a pillow.

A crown that could make the Imperial State Crown ashamed was set on the pillow. Cautiously yet deftly, the fairy picked up the crown and nodded to Y/n to bow her head. Y/n, unsure of what to do, bowed her head down with patience. The Sugar Plum Fairy set the crown delicately upon Y/n’s head and lifted the young girl's chin with two fingers. Y/n searched throughout the fairy’s expression as the cryptid creature analyzed her. To Y/n’s own joy and reassurance, the fairy looked in wonder at the younger. To Sugar Plum, Y/n resembled true royalty and looked almost identical to anyone who deserved the spot of a monarch. Nervously, Y/n turned to Bendy to see his reaction. The prince was in absolute awe. His friend looked as good—no, better—than any princess or queen to have reigned.

Bendy was shaken from his thoughts when Sugar Plum ordered two thrones to be placed next to hers immediately. And it was done as she commanded. Sugar Plum looked to the human and prince, inviting them to come sit next to her. Y/n sat on the fairy’s right, and Bendy sat next to his teenage companion. And before they knew it, festivities began all around. Dancers spun, and musicians trumpeted their instruments beautifully. Singers sang sensationally and show horses pranced among it all. Y/n was astonished, and Bendy was in mere awe at the celebration. But throughout the loud and joyous gathering, the prince couldn’t help but steal glances at the girl next to him. The party went on for what seemed like hours, and Y/n was fighting to stay awake. But, like all humans, she needed her sleep. Slowly but surely, Y/n fell onto Bendy’s shoulder, completely knocked out with exhaustion. As much as he didn’t expect it, Bendy wasn’t startled. He simply let the girl lay there.

As the sounds and lights faded out of Y/n’s senses, she felt herself fall into a dark yet comforting abyss. Then, as fast as she fell asleep, she woke up. Shooting herself up into a sitting position, Y/n rubbed her eyes and looked around. She was back in her bedroom. Soft morning light streamed in through her curtain shades. Her room was decorated in the soft hue of the sun's loving embrace of the world. Covering a yawn with her hand, Y/n crawled out of her bed and looked at her nightstand. Standing in the same position her uncle had carved was the nutcracker. The girl smiled tiredly at the wooden toy before turning and walking out her bedroom door, planning to tell her parents all about her dream at breakfast. All is well. All is peaceful. Everything is beautiful. Even you.

#x reader #toon quest #fluff #nutcracker #the nutcraker #bendy x reader #bendy and the ink machine

[whumpacabra]

Session #15

Therapy, angst, past trauma, past dehumanization, implied past violence, bar fight mention, neonazi mention, referenced past character deaths, dubious psychology by fault of the author

[Follows Bared]

“It was fine until…until we got back to the house. It was late - everyone was asleep and we all went to our rooms and - ” East’s breathing shuddered. He wasn’t crying - not yet, an impressive 20 minutes into the session - but he was feeling the vice of terror squeeze his heart. “I just…I know he was an asshole, and he probably deserved it - or worse - but - I - I enjoyed it.”

“I probably would too; there’s catharsis in taking someone like that down a peg.” Judy hadn’t been critical of his parole violation - (he wasn’t actually on parole, he had to remind himself) - she was more interested in its aftermath. Which, for once, East wanted to talk about.

“It wasn’t just, as you said, taking him down a peg. It - it felt like before. When Smith would have me…y’know…” He trailed off, clearing his throat and reaching for a paper cup of water. Drinking helped him keep his voice. Judy nodded, brow knit in concern.

“Was it like a flashback, like you were feeling the way you did when he made you kill for him?”

“No - no, maybe?” East cringed, running his fingers through his hair. (It was getting long - he wasn’t sure he wanted a haircut. He wasn’t sure if he would like who he saw in the mirror after.) “It…felt safe - controlled?”

“Control I think is the right word. Smith never let you express yourself outside of when he made you kill for his entertainment. You were safe to do as you wished within the scope of his orders.”

(Except the one time he wasn’t. Except the one time he tried to be creative - to show mercy the only way he knew how - and oh, how that choice fucked him later.)

(…)

(Well, he was here, alive and free, wasn’t he?)

“I guess…yeah, the control part - controlling the situation, it felt good. But…” He bit the insider of his cheek, shame creeping up his throat. “The way he looked at me, at the end - I just - I know how that feels. And I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“Well, as much of a wanker as he is, that skinhead is still human. He still feels fear and pain and shame just like the rest of us.”

“That doesn’t mean - but he’s still a skinhead and, and I should feel good kicking the shit out of him, right? I just felt…dirty. The way he looked at me...”

East shuddered, remembering coming home that night, sitting in the dark quiet of the house. How quickly the ghosts came for him, how little sleep he stole away.

“Smith made me feel that way. And I made that piece of shit feel the same. I - I mean, like - I could have been that piece of shit, when Smith - y’know - and, and I just - I wonder if that was how Smith felt. When he hurt me. It felt good - being in control, knowing that punk was scared of me, wouldn’t look me in the eye. Wouldn’t fight back anymore.”

And that was the heart of it, wasn’t it? East wasn’t upset because he empathized with a pathetic dickhead he scared the daylights out of. He was upset because he empathized with Smith - the heady rush of power, the security of being feared.

“What was the goal of fighting him?”

“He…Alister wanted to be left alone and he wouldn’t leave. I needed to make him leave because nobody else would.”

“Did you want to kill him?”

“No - no, I only threw his knife after him to scare him.” The question startled East from his spiral. He didn’t kill. He didn’t have to kill anymore. He didn’t want to kill anymore. So he didn’t.

“Do you regret it?”

(Did he?)

“No…he was an asshole. He wasn’t going to leave without a fight, or Alister, or both.” East avoided eye contact, trying not to think about what would have happened if he wasn’t there. If all of Tierney’s 151 cm of fiery drunkeness was pit against someone as hateful and hungry for violence as that punk.

“You saw your friend was in trouble. You took control of the situation - not the person causing it. You created a situation where he chose to leave, and you let him leave.” Judy glanced up from her notes. “You are not Smith, East. You didn’t trap him there. Whatever hits you threw were precise and efficient; you could have kicked the shit out of him, beaten him to a bloody pulp, and to be quite honest I don’t think anyone in that bar would have had an issue with it.”

“But - ”

“East, you let him go when he wanted to leave. Would Smith have done that?”

(No. Never. Smith would have meted out a punishment. Nothing but immediate and complete surrender was good enough for Smith.)

“Still feel like shit about it.” He managed to mumbled, swallowing back tearful words.

“Smith was human too, East. He was a fucking monster, but still just a human, like you and me and that prick from the bar.”

“If this is supposed to make me feel better, it isn’t.”

“You’re human too, East. You're going to have moments of your life that you're not proud of. You're going to say cruel, thoughtless things and behave inappropriately and upset other people. You're going to do things that feel good in the moment that you regret later. That dickhead at the bar didn’t regret what he said to you and your friends in the moment because he didn’t see you as people entitled to basic human decency. Just because he learned to regret that choice doesn’t mean you did something wrong.”

East nodded, digesting the information.

“Smith didn’t regret what he did to you because he didn’t see you as a person. He didn’t treat you with any respect or basic human dignity because he thought you didn’t deserve it. He was wrong, of course, but he didn't regret it.” Judy’s smile was tinged with wry bitterness. “If you can look a skinhead in the eye after kicking his ass and still see that he’s still a human being, that he’s just a man, you’re not going to make the same mistakes Smith made.”

“Yeah, I’ll get to make new mistakes.” East grumbled, the retort slipping past his lips before he could catch the thought. But Judy just smiled, shrugging.

“We all do. It’s how we choose to learn from and react to our mistakes that lets us grow beyond them.”

[Concurrent to The Mademoiselle]

(Part of my Freelancers: Changing Tides series)

Taglist: @stargeode @sacredwrath @genuineformality

#whump #recovery #therapy #angst #past trauma #dehumanization #past violence #bar fight #neonazi mention #past character death #freelancers #this was another one where I wrote it. was like 70% happy with it. scrapped and rewrote it twice. then went back to square one. #but whatever it does what it needs to. (East learning that he has to accept that he’s a person who’s gonna have feelings. good and bad.) #the timeline is a little wobbly let me finish this arc so i can properly link this mess up o7 #in other news uh. wow isn’t the weather nice? <- listening to alice’s restaurant massacre on loop #don’t be a litter bug do be a faggot and other great advice from my dad’s generation coming into play for once in my life.

[thelustybraavosimaid]

INTO THE DEEP DARK

They gave no answer, only prodded him with the points of their spears. He had no choice but to descend. Down a twisting passageway he went, narrow steps carved from the living rock, down and down. I must go up, he told himself. Up, not down. Why am I going down? Below the earth his doom awaited, he knew with the certainty of dream; something dark and terrible lurked there, something that wanted him. Jaime tried to halt, but their spears prodded him on. (Jaime VI, ASoS)

--

"...And then I find myself in front of the door to the crypts. It's black inside, and I can see the steps spiraling down. Somehow I know I have to go down there, but I don't want to. I'm afraid of what might be waiting for me. The old Kings of Winter are down there, sitting on their thrones with stone wolves at their feet and iron swords across their laps, but it's not them I'm afraid of..." (Jon IV, AGoT)

ADMONISHMENT

"He was going to burn the city," Jaime said. "To leave Robert only ashes."

"He was your king," said Darry.

"You swore to keep him safe," said Whent.

"And the children, them as well," said Prince Lewyn.

Prince Rhaegar burned with a cold light, now white, now red, now dark. "I left my wife and children in your hands."

"I never thought he'd hurt them." Jaime's sword was burning less brightly now. "I was with the king..."

"Killing the king," said Ser Arthur.

"Cutting his throat," said Prince Lewyn.

"The king you had sworn to die for," said the White Bull. (Jaime VI, ASoS)

--

He dreamt he was back in Winterfell, limping past the stone kings on their thrones. Their grey granite eyes turned to follow him as he passed, and their grey granite fingers tightened on the hilts of the rusted swords upon their laps. You are no Stark, he could hear them mutter, in heavy granite voices. There is no place for you here. Go away. (Jon VIII, ASoS)

FEAR

No. Terror closed a hand about his throat. Then his sword went dark, and only Brienne's burned, as the ghosts came rushing in.

"No," he said, "no, no, no. Nooooooooo!"

--

I scream that I'm not a Stark, that this isn't my place, but it's no good, I have to go anyway, so I start down, feeling the walls as I descend, with no torch to light the way. It gets darker and darker, until I want to scream." (Jon IV, AGoT)

POUNDING HEARTS

Heart pounding, he jerked awake, and found himself in starry darkness amidst a grove of trees. He could taste bile in his mouth, and he was shivering with sweat, hot and cold at once. (Jaime VI, ASoS)

--

Last night he had dreamt the Winterfell dream again. He was wandering the empty castle, searching for his father, descending into the crypts. Only this time the dream had gone further than before. In the dark he'd heard the scrape of stone on stone. When he turned he saw that the vaults were opening, one after the other. As the dead kings came stumbling from their cold black graves, Jon had woken in pitch-dark, his heart hammering. Even when Ghost leapt up on the bed to nuzzle at his face, he could not shake his deep sense of terror. (Jon VII, AGoT)

#jaime lannister #jon snow #asoiaf #peer pressure 😠

[emma-frxst]

Smooth Criminal (Ch. 13)

Pairing: Colossus x reader

Summary: Piotr falls in love with you, an art historian. He doesn’t know that you have a secret double life as an ex-spy turned art thief selling your stolen art to Sebastian Shaw. What happens when your two worlds collide?

warnings: none other than Piotr being a goober in the first half.

a/n- upon rewatching the x men movies, its important to note that the victor creed/ sabertooth in this story is  Liev Schreiber’s sabertooth (x men origins: wolverine).  Thanks for reading! comments are reblogs help me out alot.

-

You stood in front of the floor length mirror In your bedroom, contemplating which outfit to wear.

“What do you think, babe?” You called out to Piotr who had just gotten out of the shower.

He rounded the corner of the bathroom and in all his glory, didn’t have any clothes on. Lucky you.

“I think you worry too much darling, you will look beautiful in any outfit you wear. Plus it is only birthday dinner for Cable. Not big deal.” He replied, kissing you on the head.

“You’re not really helping me out here, Petey.”

“I’m sorry I just think you look sexy in everything.” He said, giving your ass a playful slap. He disappeared into the closet before you could get him back.

He was right though. Ever since the incident with Victor, your anxiety had been running on high. It had been months since then, yes. But you still couldn’t shake the feeling something bad was going to happen.

“We need to leave soon darling so I would appreciate if you would make your decision.”

“I’m the one going to make us late? You are the one who is being distracting, waltzing around all naked and such.”

“Daaaa, you got me there.” He said making his way into the closet once more. A smile graced your lips, he was such a cheeky guy when he wanted to be.

“Ready when you are мой дорогой” (my darling) he said, reappearing from the closet a few minutes later.

You and Piotr were going to a restaurant for cable’s birthday with the x-force, which you had grown quite fond of in your time getting to know them.

.. You were laughing and having a good time during your outing. You needed this, it was good to give your mind a break from all the worry.

You were intently listening to Wade tell a story, you looked down to cut off a bite of food and when you looked back up something, someone, in the window behind him caught your eye.

Your blood ran cold.

A chill went creeping down your spine.

Was it? No..no way he’d show up here and make a scene.

Victor.

You leaned left of Wade’s head to get a better view, but he was gone. Maybe you were just seeing things, or dreaming perhaps.

But maybe not.

“You okay y/n?” Cable’s voice bringing you out of your spiraling thoughts. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah.” You set your silverware down. “I just need some air. Excuse me.” You responded and nearly rushed out of the restaurant. Colossus not far behind.

You looked around outside, no Victor, no Shaw, no suspicious cars, nothing.

“дорогой?” (darling) colossus questioned, finding you sitting on the bench outside.

“What’s wrong?”

You foolishly thought that maybe Victor would leave you alone. That he’d let you have your life back. “Nothing, babe, just feeling a little sick.” You forced a smile. “What is really wrong?” Piotr questioned, sitting beside you.

You hesitated on what to say.

“I’ve been..really struggling with my anxiety lately. I feel like it’s taken over.”

Piotr took both your hands in his much larger ones, “We will get through it together моя любовь.” (My love) “I know a few good therapists.” He gave you a reassuring smile.

You ran a hand through his soft black hair and came to rest it on his cheek.

“You know I love you a lot, right?” You gushed, holding back tears. “Like so much”

“Da. I love you too.” He said and planted a kiss on your forehead.

You and Piotr sat in silence for another minute or so. During which time you tried to get ahold of yourself. Your efforts on that front were unsuccessful.

You promised to kill Victor if he ever hurt Piotr. But how would you? He was stronger, faster, and had a healing factor.

You decided you’d need to visit your old friend, professor X. maybe he would know, or at the least, bestow some wisdom upon you.

“Ready to go back inside?” Piotr questioned, his voice soft and gentle. Reassuring.

“Yeah.” You gave him your best smile, hoping he wouldn’t see past your façade.

“Good.” He offered you his hand.

You took it and the two of you went back inside the restaurant.

You turned your head to look behind you, just to make sure Victor wasn’t there. He wasn’t..this time.

-

tags: tags lists open! @chromecutie @xenomorphique @evelyn120700 @nightriver99 @iamwarrenspeace @this-that-and-every-thing-else @hsk-puma @bungeewabbit @pianomad @lesbianstarkx @hazilyimagine-blog @super-darkcloudstudent @thehuntress26 @mooleche @rovvboat @leo-writer-deactivated20221124 @dandyqueen @nitemaremotionless @wintersoldierswife @master-sass-blast

#colossus x reader #piotr rasputin x reader #peter rasputin x reader #colossus x reader au #colossus fanfiction #colossus x you #colossus/ reader #mine #kacceywrites #xmcu fanfiction

[mangolazyartist]

I don't really know if I've read this somewhere of if I just thought about it but here it goes.

• • •

Regulus lying in the water ready to accept death soon finds himself swimming back to the surface knowing his brother will think he died serving the dark lord.

Kretchur is gone.. was he under long enough for he to think he died?

That's not what's important, he needs to explain everything to Sirius, Remus, lily,James.... especially James.

As he got out he needed to know where they were. He couldn't go to Dumbledore not again after he asked him for help..

He was so deep in thought he didn't notice he was still wet, and no one around him seemed to notice as he walked in plan sight.

He went to his brother's flat, he could hear screaming and throwing... sounded like sirius heard some bad news, maybe one of his friends died in the war. For marlin sake he hopes that wasn't the case.

Being to frantic he didn't realize he went threw the door instead of opening it, as he entered he can see almost everything is destroyed... he followed the sounds of his brother to find Lupin is now calming sirius down, sirius was sobbing. Yet Regulus couldn't make out what was being said so he slowly approached, Lupin looked up from holding sirius staring in the direction regulus was but didn't say a thing, almost like he didn't see him.

" how could they" , "he was still in school" , " he did everything they asked" he heard threw sobs. He tried asking who he was talking about but found nothing came out but water.. still it didn't get a reaction from the 2 infront of him.

He tried touching them to get their attention, nothing.

He left not able to take the pretending he wasn't there. Even when Lupin clearly saw him walk in... or did he.

He managed to find the potters resistance, it was actually easy to find considering he was under the impression he needed a secret code to get to them.

As he arrives he could hear James crying. He rushed in to see a red face James being held by a clearly pregnant lily.

Kneeling infront of James holding his hand, he looked at lily for answers to who died, still nothing.

"Reggie... how... why..." were the only words Potter was able to say between sobs.

Was it him he was talking to or was he talking about him. His cold wet hands still holding on the the hands of the sobbing James.

Then he heard lily speak. " they could still find him, I know Reggie has been gone awhile b..." she was cut off as James stood. Regulus had fallen back by surprise. They couldn't see him could they?

"He's dead and you know it, they probably found out, they probably killed him themselves and covered it up" James horse voice spoke.

Regulus stood up, he was right there and they were talking about him , Regulus Black, as if he were dead. How could that be he was right there. " Jamie..." he finally got out " I'm right here, can't you see me."

Nothing

James continued to grow mad as he was still crying trying to accept the death of his best friends brother, his first love, his soul mate. Regulus tried everything he could to show himself.

The more he tried the more he realized he was like a ghost, no he is a ghost stuck at 17, he died in that cave, lily is pregnant probably about the burst any moment, she wasn't a few weeks ago.

Wait

Regulus started looking for the date, anything to know how long he was gone. He left the room the 2 were grieving to find out how long he was there.

May 30th, 1980

That's not right its supposed to be 1979 and it was definitely not may, was it?

He started spiraling, he went to everyone he knew to find someone who can see him. Even if that ment confronting dumbledore.

Dumbledore being his last option he went to hogwarts, school seemed empty, of course it was he was there at midnight. Looking everywhere he finally went to Dumbledore office.

There stood Dumbledore at his desk. He looks at the young black brother. Or at least in his direction regulus thought no one else has been able to see me so why could he.

" I see the rumor is true."

Was he talking to himself?

Regulus walked closer and slowly zigzagged to see if it was him the headmaster was watching.

It was, he could see him, but how?

" it seems Mr black you have died. A very wet death may I say" he said in a calm voice

How could he be so calm? A dead student is right infront of him. A dead student who begged him for help , who shouldn't even be here despite how desperate he was to be seen, to be heard.

"You..." Regulus started " you can see me?"

"Of course, it's not impossible to see the dead"

Regulus hated this, the only person who could see him was the one who wouldn't help. Even though he new this he still tried.

"Please protect them, James, sirius.."

Dumbledore moved around his desk " there's nothing I can do if something were to happen, the Potters are under a protection spell already"

" Move them, tell them Pettigrew..." he was cut off

" any information you give me won't be useful, it has no evidence, no reliable sources "

" I'm right here telling you!!, check his arm he has the mark!"

" so do you I'm afraid you can't be trusted my dear boy"

" I was a spy and you know that"

Dumbledore looks at his peninsula then back at the boy " for which side tho, you weren't necessarily fully helpful"

Regulus couldn't take it , he tried throwing things, hitting the man but yet again nothing happened. Dumbledore went over to the peninsula to remove the memory of their conversations right infront of him.

He tried to stop it but he seemed to have no effect on the world.

For awhile he kept trying to get threw to someone. But after awhile he kinda just watched. He watched his best friend pandora have a beautiful baby girl and Jamie have a boy who was the spinning image of him but of course with lily's eyes.

He'd notice for a little the young ones saw him so he'd play with them, he watched over them.

Then it happened, Pandora died, then the potters died. He couldn't do anything, he tried and felt to helpless.

He watched his brother get wrongfully accused, he watched as Pettigrew ran off. He watched as snape came and cry holding lily. He watched them take Harry away. What else could he do?

He noticed lily and James crossed over quickly, he didn't even get to see them.

That's when he realized, why was he stuck there? Why couldn't he cross over with the rest?

He went back to the cave to try and cross over. He layed in the water.

Ever so often he'd try again, he was bound to the water.

Then he thought he saw James and tried grabbing him. Asking him to help.

Why didn't he recognize him? Why wouldn't he help?

It was harry all grown up. And he, regulus black, had almost took him down with him.

So regulus accepted his fate to stay there forever in that cave to be alone because all he can do now is cause harm and pain to others and why would dumbledore ever help him after he let him die, let James Potter die, let Lily Evans die even with his warning.

#regulus black #marauders era #the marauders era #the marauders #harry potter #harry potter marauders #james x regulus #r.a.b #regulus arcturus black #regulus deserved better #Dumbledore is the bad guy #Dumbledore hate

[bumbleklee]

HELLO!!! Can you do the reader that feels like a second choice for zhongli, kaeya, Childe, and xiao?

baby ur a shining star (cut for length + reader is gn)

zhongli

after hearing about guizhong and her relationship with zhongli, you had a sinking feeling in your stomach

you couldn't help but wonder if he was still in love with her and you were being used as a place holder to pass time

around the anniversary of her death, zhongli became distant from you and it sent you spiraling

for days, you didn't come out of your apartment and you weren't planning on it anytime soon until zhongli came by to see if you were still alive

He had a key to your apartment. You knew that - you gave it to him - and yet, you were still surprised when he sat down on the edge of your bed.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a large hand caress your shoulder over your duvet. "Zhongli?"

"Are you sick?" He asks instantly, reaching forward to touch your forehead. You lean out of his touch and sit up in bed, grasping the blanket still. You keep your gaze down.

"No," You say quietly.

"Then, where have you been?" He asks.

"Where have I been? Where have you been?" You demand, frowning. Zhongli had been more than distant to you over the past week. You could hardly see him for more than five minutes before he was rushing you away so he could take a walk through the forest alone. And he had cancelled your dates!

Zhongli frowned himself and looked away, "I apologize. I've had a lot on my mind."

"So have I," You say. You cross your arms, "Is there someone else?"

The words float of your mouth to carelessly and Zhongli looks taken aback. "Someone else? Of course not."

"What about Guizhong?"

There's a silence in the bedroom and Zhongli peers at your face for a moment. His expression is unreadable and you wish you hadn't spoken the words you did. Suddenly, his hand reaches out again and lands on yours this time.

"Y/N, Guizhong was a good friend of mine many years ago. I mourn for her passing but you are my future," He tells you, "Please understand that you are the only one I care for now."

kaeya

dating kaeya came with anxiety and worries

he was a very attractive man and his personality was more than flirty at times

it wasn't rare to see him shake off multiple women or men at the tavern or on the streets of mondstadt after they had drank a little too much

you knew he would never betray you, he loved you too much, but when you saw how much affection he received from strangers, your heart couldn't help but ache

You knew going out to the tavern with Kaeya would only end in an argument. He was by your side for no more than ten minutes before some Knights pulled him to their table. You clenched your jaw and sat at the bar alone, Diluc sending you a sympathetic smile.

Your eyes ghosted behind you often and the sight of a woman wrapping her arms around Kaeya's waist had you fuming silently. You gripped the glass in your hand and your feet moved on their own. You grabbed Kaeya by his arm and dragged his tipsy body out the door without a word.

"What did I do?" He slurred, "I wasn't done hanging out."

You gave Kaeya the silent treatment as you walked home and he lingered like a lost puppy behind you. When you both had changed into your pajamas and Kaeya tried to spoon you like he did every night, you pushed him away.

Dejected, Kaeya sat up. "What did I do?" He asked again, more sober this time.

"Why don't you go ask your girlfriend from the bar?" You snapped.

"Come on," Kaeya groaned, "We've talked about this. I can't control what other people do."

"I don't care."

You crossed your arms tightly and laid down in bed, your back facing Kaeya. You felt a familiar warm feeling in your chest and your bottom lip quivered slightly, your eyes filling with tears.

Kaeya's arms were around you the second he heard you sniffle. "What's the matter?" He asked seriously.

"You're not going to leave me, right?" You asked, spinning around in his arms.

He cocked an eyebrow at you, "What? Of course not." He leaned close to your face and pressed his nose against yours. "Is this what this is all about?"

You only nodded.

"I love you," Kaeya continued, "And no one, not even that lady from the tavern, is going to come between us. Got it?"

childe

when you first started dating childe, he made you promise that you understood that his work came first

and you did because, frankly, you didn't think you would ever be second choice to the duties of a fatui harbinger

but the more involved you became with childe, the more you realized that maybe you had bit off more you could chew

Childe had stood you up the second time that week. You waited at the Liyue Pavilion for over an hour until you realized he wasn't coming and went home, utterly devastated.

When he finally returned home to you, it was early in the morning and you were half asleep on the couch. The sound of him closing the door woke you up and you only frowned at him. Childe tried to reach over to you to give you a kiss but you peeled away from him.

"I'm sorry for not making it, Y/N," Childe began, "I just -"

"Got caught up with work," You finished.

He looked down at his shoes and you looked elsewhere too. This exact scenario was happening too often and you weren't sure how much you could take of it. And Childe seemed to have similar thoughts as he sat beside you on the couch.

"I'm really sorry," He tried again.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better, Ajax? Because it doesn't."

He clicked his tongue. "You're right," He said, "Listen, Y/N. I think we should end things before I really can't be there for you. Things are only picking up from here."

There was a silence. "Yeah," You agreed.

"You'll find a nice person one day that won't be so involved with what I do," He chides, "Anyone would be lucky enough to call you theirs."

You wanted that person to be Childe. Except, Childe was just like every other guy out there. He told you he loved you yet couldn't even make you his priority.

xiao

similar to childe, it isn't a person that makes you feel like second best

in xiao's case, it's his duties as the yaksha that bury worries deep in your heart

he's not around most nights and during the day, he's always on edge and distant

you've become accustom to his routine but you weren't sure how much more you could take of it

For once, Xiao stayed home with you at night. You had cooked dinner and even though Xiao hated mortal food, he shoved it down for you. The two of you stayed up to watch the sunrise on the roof and you fell asleep in his arms.

When you woke up in a cold sweat hours later, Xiao was gone. Your window was open, the wind rushing in, and you frowned deeply. You sat up in bed, rubbing your forehead. He couldn't even stay the night.

"Xiao..." You whispered into the night. "Xiao?"

In a second, your partner stood in front of the bed. "What's wrong?"

"You left me," You scowled, standing up to shut the window. Your feet stomped against the cold floor with too much emphasis. Xiao didn't respond so you snapped your eyes towards him. He was just staring at you. "Do you even love me anymore?"

He was taken aback by your words, "Huh? Of course I do."

"Then why don't you show it?" Your tone had fell drastically and you held back your tears.

Xiao was beside you in moments, his hands cradling your face gently. His eyes searched yours crazily and you felt the urge to pull away but refrained.

"I'm new at this," He whispered, "I'm trying."

You sighed, "Well, try harder."

He nodded, "I will."

Once you had vented a bit longer, Xiao lead you back to bed and wrapped his arms around you once again. When you woke up in the morning, you were throughly surprised to find him next to you still.

a/n sorry u break up in childes

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin hcs #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin kaeya #kaeya #kaeya x reader #genshin xiao #xiao #xiao x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli #childe #childe x reader #genshin childe #genshin tartagalia #tartagalia x reader #tartagila #genshin x reader #genshin self insert

[pleasantanathema]

Miche Zacharias | Ripe

Pairing: Miche x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Breeding, Cum Eating, A Lot of Cum, Multiple Orgasms, Established Relationship

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: This is part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read more fanfics I’m writing to celebrate. All this excessive cum is dedicated to the love of my life @titan-fodder​, thank you for always encouraging me and hyping me up 💖 

          “I can smell when you’re ovulating. It’s sweeter,” Miche buried his nose into your neck, stubble sending sparks up your skin, “thicker.”

           “There’s no way you can smell that.”

         Insistent hands pulled at your shirt, fingers sneaking underneath to rub against your sides.

           He moved you easily, like a doll on strings, pinning you against the door and caging you in with all his brawn. Your palms pushing against his chest were useless; Miche had always been like this, some unmovable force in your life. Always pressing against you, capturing you when you least expected it, just because he could. Because he knew you wanted him all the same.

           “Babe I can smell a titan a mile away, of course I can smell what’s happening in this sweet little body of yours.”

           A purr almost left your throat from how good it felt to have his large hands smoothing over your stomach, thumbs dipping below your waistband to tease closer to what he wanted. Your fingers curled into the green threads of his shirt, toes stretching as you tried to get closer. He dipped his head with a smirk, tongue sweeping into your mouth without question, dark, acidic notes of lingering wine stinging the back of your cheeks. It was bitter, addictive.

           Thrills spread across your back as you kissed him, sloppy, open mouthed and sinful. You liked being his dirty little secret, always fucking him when no one was looking. You’d done it for years, curling around each other late at night, drinking down cum and slick like hidden ambrosia.

          Long fingers wandered further into your pants, sinking into the wetness between your folds. A gasp left your mouth, but still you kept chasing his lips, drowning in him.

           “I should breed you,” he whispered.

           The words made your ears burn, made your lungs feel too hot. It was like you were already in the hazey headspace of sex and he’d barely even touched you.

           “Think about it,” his palms were white-hot heat as he stripped you, lips sucking at the tender places on your body that made you keen, “we’d make the prettiest babies.”

           You would, gods you knew that. Miche’s seed would be strong, virile, would create babies with brilliant green eyes and pretty faces. Something was churning in your belly, something deep, something blooming and ripe that was screaming to take part in the miracles of sex.

           “Everyone would catch on if I started swelling with a baby-sized bump.”

           “They would. But you’re mine anyways, doesn’t matter.”

           He finished tearing the clothes away from your body, heavy fingers trailing over your stomach as he stood, skimming up to your breasts to pinch at your nipples.

           “Get on the bed.”

           You already knew what he wanted, crawling onto sheets that smelled like him—leather and coffee, warm and inviting, like home—and pressing your face into the pillows, arching your hips up as he stood at the edge of the bed stroking his cock.

           “Fuck. Look at that pretty pussy.” A massive hand cupped your ass, his thumb making you shiver as he stroked over your folds, dipping the tip into your wetness so he could watch it stain his skin. “Let’s see how much cum you can take.”

           The burn of him sinking inside of you was always a shock, a smoldering pleasure that made you feel so weak, so full. He used to have to prep you, but over time he learned you liked the arousing pain, liked to feel every fucking inch of him as he took his time letting your cunt suck him in.

           His fingers were already on your clit before he even started moving, making you whimper and nearly buckle from the influx of pleasure that invaded your system.

           “Been smelling you all fucking day, baby. Want you to milk this cock.”

           You almost toppled over when he started to thrust, little waves of delight spreading up your spine with every drag of his cock along your walls. He knew how to play you, circling your clit so perfectly that you were already shaking. Your lower belly already hurt from clenching, all the euphoria rushing to your head and making you feel drunk.

           “God you get so fucking tight,” he grunted, starting the kind of brutal pace that told you he was already aiming for the endgame, ready to fill you up and watch you drip.

           “Fucking god, Miche, you can’t just—” but he could, your walls clamping before you could even enjoy the build up of orgasm, Miche pinching your clit just enough to wring your orgasm out of you. It almost hurt, so fast and hot and had your pussy so tight that you felt like you were going to burst around his cock.

          The tight squeeze brought him closer, had him releasing your clit so he could use his long arms to pull you up by your shoulders. You were still spent, body only moving in response to his powerful hips slapping into your ass. He loosely placed his hands around your neck, pulling you back harder with the fresh leverage.

          Your whole world felt centered around the drumming of his cock on your insides. It all still burned, like a warm, wet glow between your legs, filled to the brim with him. You were gasping and moaning, little sounds you just couldn’t help, too overwhelmed, too lost.

          Those massive hands of his got tighter around your throat. Miche’s grunts were kissing your ears, like a rhythmic hymn that he loved to pray.

          “Yeah, fuck, gonna breed you, baby, fuck my seed into you.”

          Lewd words and sounds made you flush, heat racing up your neck to your ears.

          He almost choked you when he came, hips stilling for a moment so you could both feel the way his cock pulsed. It was already too much cum to keep in, dribbles spilling out over your pussy and around his cock to paint the inside of your thighs.

          But he didn’t stop.

          Miche pulled your back to his chest, stretching your aching muscles as you stayed on your knees. His cock was still hard and twitching inside of you, fat and heavy as he started to push back into you. Your head dipped back against his shoulder, one of his hands holding your neck while the other splayed across your stomach before moving lower. Two fingers slid along the folds of your cunt, spreading around his intrusive cock so he could feel the mess he left behind.

          “I’ve got you, baby,” he groaned, lifting those fingers to your mouth. You took them in, mewling at the taste of cum and slick pooling against your tongue. He kept your mouth stuffed with the digits, allowing you to scream around them as he picked up his pace.

          He was a man determined. He promised you cum, threatened to breed you, and he was going to.

          You could feel the power within his thighs as he slammed into you, feeling his cock buried so deep you knew you would feel its ghost lingering within you for hours, days. Your used, sensitive clit was signing from his balls against it, your legs nearly crumpling from the force of his enormous body against yours.

          This time your pleasure was building, each plunge of cock sending you higher and higher into the clouds of ecstasy. It was too good, too much, and his cum just kept trickling down your legs as the time passed. It was mesmerizing to focus on the feel of the wetness spurting from your conjoined bodies with every rock of hips.

          Miche licked up your neck, beautiful nose sniffing in the scents of your sex, your skin.

          “You’re so fucking ripe.”

          He withdrew his fingers from your mouth, brushing the wet knuckles over one of your bouncing tits, twisting at your nipple.

          “W-want more,” you choked out, neck arched entirely back onto his broad shoulder.

          “More what? Tell me.”

          You took a moment just to gasp with everything thrust of his cock, trying to keep your wits.

          “Cum, mphf, want more of your cum.”

          He cursed into your neck, moving his hands to push your hips down, to bounce you on his cock like you were a tight little cocksleeve. He mumbled something about needing to feel you again, long fingers stretching back to your clit that was spread over him. It was electric, had you spiraling, pussy spasming against him, slick gushing with every crest of pleasure that came over your body. Your ears burned, your throat was dry, your head tingling with desire so forceful you felt like you had exploded. Your climax had you splitting apart, and also sucking him in so deep that it had him pouring his load into you.

          You were both so out of breath, you falling back onto your hands and knees on the mattress as Miche finally pulled his still throbbing cock from your cunt. You were ruined, the tightening of your belly making cum continuously bubble out your hole, drooling onto the sheets.

          “You look so pretty covered in cum.”

          Miche’s fingers were back between your legs, making you yelp as fingertips glided over your clit. Then he smoothed his fingers down your thighs, gathering what cum was still traveling down your legs. He pushed that lost cum back inside of you, making your fists tighten into the sheets. Over and over again he repeated the motion, taking his time to gather every viscous droplet and push it back into your quivering cunt.

          “Can’t let any go to waste,” he chuckled, eyes gleaming as he marveled over how much cum you could take. What still leaked out he gathered again, coaching you onto your back so he could dip his cum covered digits past your lips. You licked against his knuckles, sucking them in with a greedy smile.

          “Tastes good,” you cooed, observing how he was still enamored with staring at your glossy pussy.

           “Get used to it, I’m keeping you stuffed with cum until I put a baby in you.”

#miche smut #miche x reader #miche zacharius #miche zacharias #snk miche #aot miche #Mike Zacharias #mike zacharius #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #miche fanfic

[landinoandco]

Our Love is a Game

Lando Norris x Reader

Request from @jamieeboulos

Warnings: pinch of fluff, cute ending because they are the best

Word count: 2.7 k

Requests are open :)

It all started with a phone number, an innocent exchange that would subsequently change the world you knew; mostly for the better. When you had met Lando, as far as you were concerned you had just met a 21 year old who lived in London and had a passion for cars. How wrong you were. It was only when things started to get serious that he sat you down and explained everything that came with being a formula one driver; more importantly the fandom that he was involved in. 

You had always been a private person and admittedly this piece of information almost broke your relationship but after some time to think you had decided that he was worth it all. You both decided it was a better idea to keep your relationship as quiet as possible - you took every precaution to make sure you stayed a stranger to the fans.

For the past 2 years, you thought you had managed to stay clear of the cameras, the photos and the twitch streams but it wasn’t until a fan-made compilation caused your world to spiral out of control. 

You and Lando were out for a run, it was a part of your morning routine - a great way to start the day and it was time that you two could escape the motor sport world and act like a normal couple without worrying about who might be watching. It was time you both valued and appreciated. On this particular morning, Lando had decided to add to his Instagram story, a short video of his morning adventures - the mist still hanging around the trees as you ran under a heavily graffitied bridge, the early birds song chirping animatedly. At the time you didn’t think much of it as you were too busy tying your hair back up to notice. 

It wasn’t until you got home and looked at his story that your heart stopped, rushing over to the kitchen island you placed your phone down and ran your fingers through your hair. It was a blink and you’ll miss it moment but in the corner of his video - the last millisecond before it ended - there was a flash of a purple top (the purple top you had been wearing) and a swish of brown hair as you chucked it back up into a ponytail. 

“Lando.” You called out, trying to keep your voice as calm as you could. You didn’t know why it had affected you so much - or why you were so desperate to keep your identity a secret. It wasn’t like you wanted to hide your relationship; you were the happiest you ever had been, everyday was exciting and offered new prospects - it was more that you were so used to being in this bubble with Lando, the idea of it bursting seemed rather unappealing. Usually you didn’t care for how others saw you but seeing some of the words that people used to describe him, it would be enough to trouble even the thickest of skins. 

Lando’s close proximity broke your thoughts as he stared down at your phone, pausing on the flash of brown and purple. “I am so sorry, love.” He almost whispered, his eyes widening at his carelessness. He picked your phone up to take a closer look. 

“It will be alright, won’t it? I mean, it’s a blink and you’ll miss it.” You had said, more to reassure yourself than Lando. He didn’t answer, anxiety building in the pit of his stomach because he knew exactly what he had started. 

The fan-made compilation didn’t go viral until a few hours later - as it turns out that flash of purple was the perfect cherry on top of an unappetising cake. Lando was sat on stream - not that this was out of the ordinary and Max had decided to join him, leaving you alone to rewatch Friends for the umpteenth time. 

The pair were sat reacting to videos on YouTube when a clip of a seal swimming into a shoal of fish started playing - the amusing part was that they kept quickly dispersing away from the seal in question. Unsurprisingly, they laughed and Lando spluttered: “This is me trying to find a girlfriend.” What the fans didn’t know was the apparent irony of that sentence and this was what caused the major meltdown; whilst Lando and Max were busy crying with laughter - that chat had filled up with the same link and references to the video you would be redirected through. 

Max was the first to stop laughing, tapping Lando on the shoulder as he pointed at the chat. Hundreds of the same message filled the screen: “That’s not what this compilation shows.” “Lando, what are you hiding from us?” “Lando and Max laughing knowing very well he has a girlfriend.” 

“Chat what on earth are you waffling on about.” Max chuckled uneasily, looking at Lando out of the corner of his eye. Lando sat with a forced smile, his nostrils flaring as he continued through the comments. He could only let out a tense laugh as he swallowed thickly - his throat feeling suddenly dry. You were still sitting, completely engrossed and unaware that Lando Norris was now trending on twitter. 

Max had come up with an excuse to end the stream not long after, Lando uncharacteristically quiet. His thoughts were with you in the other room, had you seen it? Did you know? How would you react? He felt as though he had lost all control, like he had failed you entirely - all he wanted to do was protect you yet he was the one to screw it up. 

“Hey,” Max nudged his shoulder, “It was bound to happen at some point. Let’s go and see if she’s seen it - if not then -” He took a deep breath, “We will watch it together. We need to know what we are working with here.” Lando nodded, unable to reply, his body went into automatic pilot mode and too quickly he was standing facing you. 

Pausing the tv, you looked at Lando - his jaw tightened and facial expressions set as though he had just seen a ghost. “Is everything ok?” You asked apprehensively. 

“There’s something you need to see.” Max reached for his phone, pushing Lando onto the sofa. You offered your arm to Lando, pulling him into a hug. Max pulled up the video and pressed play. A tense atmosphere held the room hostage - breath restricted and gazes fixed onto the tiny screen in front of you. 

It started with a clip from this year’s Goodwood - Lando preparing to drive his last hill climb - you remembered it well, a McLaren hat placed on your head mainly to cover your identity; knowing that there would be more than a few fans around. The clip moved to 3 separate stills - all of you in your McLaren hat. One with your back to the camera, you hand placed around Lando’s waist, the other two a side profile as you spoke to Max. 

The reaction was immediate, you slapped your hand to your mouth, Lando looked horror-struck and Max was watching you carefully. 

The video moved on, this time a clip from the quadrant video where Niran trains like Lando for 24 hours - Lando and Niran were in the kitchen preparing to eat their breakfast when once again the video moved to stills. This time they were of your reflection in the oven - holding the camera. You had thought at the time, if you were behind the camera it would stop every chance of you accidentally being caught on camera. Apparently not. 

The video had moved on again, this time to stills of Lando arriving on track - of course there was no way for you to get on track without being photographed and you were fine with that because you would just arrive after Lando either with Jon or Charlotte. Photos of you arriving with Jon and Charlotte flashed up - with them you were just another member of staff but put with those other stills and it really did yell out that you and Lando were romantically involved. Finally the flash of purple from Lando’s story. The game was up. 

“Oh my-” You stuttered as the video came to an end. Fortunately your Instagram hadn’t been shown but judged by how skilled you knew the fans to be - it would only be a matter of time. “I feel sick.” You admitted, wiping your hands across your face. Lando still hadn’t said a word, staring blankly at the floor. Max was the first to come up with something logical, turning to you and Lando. 

“It will blow over.” He started, “The fans will soon lose interest and move onto the next big headline. We just need to ignore anything we see regarding the subject.” He moved his attention to you. “Maybe avoid social media for a few days. Let everyone cool down -” Sensing your means to interrupt, he held his hand up. “I know you shouldn’t have to and I know none of this is fair but unfortunately people have no boundaries and believe because it’s on social media it is their business. If they were in our situation, I’m pretty sure they would be the first to complain. Let’s just go along with it for now. It will give you time to think about what to do next.” 

Lando cleared his throat, pulling you closer into him. “I’ve failed you. All I wanted to do was protect you.” At this, Max got up and left. 

Shaking your head, you pressed your lips to his forehead. “You could never. Think about how long we kept it secret for. Besides, until we announce or admit anything - it isn’t confirmed.” You offered, trying to soothe his worries. He nodded, still not convinced. 

“Our love is like a game and it’s not a game I enjoy playing.” He croaked, lacing your fingers together. 

“I know, Lando, I know. Let’s let everything calm down and then we can think about what our next step is.” 

Weeks later and it was the night before you were due to leave for your summer holiday. You would be spending it with Lando and some of his friends and family. Due to the current pandemic, it had been so long since you had been away - even if it was a bigger group of you going; you were still looking forward to spending that quality time with Lando. 

Max had decided to take himself and Tom off to the streaming room - leaving you and Lando to sort out the remaining items you needed for your time away. 

“I have a present for you.” He said suddenly, his hands behind his back. You beamed, taking a step closer to him. He shook his head, “If you want it - “ He pointed at his lips. 

Rolling your eyes, you pecked his lips then held out your hands like a child. Lando chuckled, “Close your eyes.” Hands still outstretched and eyes closed, you waited for Lando to present you with your surprise. He grasped your left wrist and attached something to it - “No peeking.” He added. A moment or two later, he dropped his hold of your wrist and said: “You can open them now.” You could hear the smile on his lips. You opened your eyes and looked straight to your wrist - he had given you a pink watch. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him, his eyes twinkled as he then pointed to the orange watch on his wrist. 

“Watches?” You asked, confusion laced your tone. 

Nodding, he said, “We all have matching watches but in different colours - they are for our holiday away.” 

You gave him a lopsided grin and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love it. Thank you.” 

In the streaming room, Max was having to ignore the majority of the comments because they were all asking the same thing: “Who was the girl from the compilation.” He was trying his hardest to keep moving off the topic, instead showing off the watches - it had been his idea, blue for him, orange for Lando, a child’s watch for Tom and a pink watch for you. He had listed off all of the colours and said who they belonged to: “And then pink-” He paused, mentally face palming. He looked over to Tom for assistance - he hadn’t meant to say pink at all. “And pink is for someone.” He cursed his poor excuse but as if by magic - Lando walked through the door. 

Distracting the stream from his slip up. 

Croatia was a dream come true, the hot summer sun on your back and the time to just relax and recharge. Days spent with Lando sunbathing on the boat or stuck in a tense game of Uno. Not being the only female was brilliant as well - as they got to go off and not feel guilty about leaving you on your own. 

Currently, you and Lando were standing in each other's arms - the afternoon drawing into the evening as the sun began to set. You had your arms around his neck and his arms were around your waist, sighing contentedly you broke the silence: “This is nice.” He pressed his lips into your hair, a sign that he agreed with your statement. In that moment, it was just you and him - everyone seemed to disappear from around you and all worries vanished. It was the simple yet affectionate moments that had always meant the most to you. You felt as though you could relax every muscle in your body, listening to his steady heartbeat - you wished for this moment to never end, to forever be in his arms and to not worry about who sees you there. 

Ever since that compilation had been made, the thought had been on your mind a lot. Were you ready to go public with Lando? At the end of the day you were both happy and surely that was the most important thing. 

Later that night, you were sitting eating your meal when a phone was handed to you, displayed on it was a picture of you and Lando - in each other’s arms. 

Instantly you knew what this meant, looking at Lando you were met with the same expression. He did as well. 

You and Lando had decided it was time to announce your relationship, there was no point sneaking around anymore if people knew and were looking out for you. You had agreed that the best way to do it was if you joined him in a stream, that way they got to know you a bit more for who you were. 

“Is it ok to feel as nervous as I am?” You asked him, pulling up a chair beside him. He was setting up the stream, two mugs of tea placed in front of you. It seemed completely unnatural to sit facing the camera. 

“I mean, this is kind of a big deal so yes I would say, it’s completely natural for you to feel nervous.” He reached for your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. Nodding, you took a deep breath. 

“Ok. I’m ready.” You said, your heart beating at a million miles an hour. The corners of his lips turned up, leaning in to leave you a kiss on the lips. 

“I love you and I’m so proud of you.” He admitted quietly, as though you were the only person in the world, his eyes flickered with complete adoration. 

“I love you too. Now, shall we start it?” 

Lando went to press the start stream button but paused. He turned back to face you, his eyes wide and offered an apologetic smile. 

“What did you do?” You asked, a smile toying at your lips as you had an idea of what it might have been. 

“Stream, meet my girlfriend.” 

He had already started it...

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #mclaren #lando norris oneshot #lando norris fanfiction #f1 2021 #f1 imagine #f1blr #formula one #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #lando norris one shot #f1 requests #lando norris request #lando norris blurb

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 18

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 18 - This Venerable One has Begged You Before

Tianwen has a deadly killing move. The name was very simple, just one word: "Wind". Once activated, no piece of armor in the surrounding area could withstand it.

Mo Ran was naturally acquainted with the power of "Wind". He also knew Chu Wanning's strength so there was no need to worry. He glanced at the pale man whose robe was dyed red with blood. He threw away the rest of his talismans to buy Chu Wanning some time, then flew away to the edge of the fight. He grabbed Shi Mei with one hand, Madam Chen with the other, and took two unconscious people, hiding a far distance away.

Chu Wanning endured the severe pain and reluctantly moved his other. Suddenly, Tianwen burst out with a dazzling golden light, and Chu Wanning violently jerked it back.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost went berserk. It jumped up and rushed towards Chu Wanning with a distorted face.

Chu Wanning's robe waved like a flame in a violent wind, billowing and flying. His eyebrows were furious, half of his shoulders soaked in blood. He quickly raised his hand, Tianwen's golden light became more and more intense then it took off by Chu Wanning's flying spin.

The willow vine stretched for several tens of feet and whirled into a golden spiral. Like a whirlpool, it engulfed the surrounding ghosts, dead bodies, golden children, and the roaring and twisting Master of Ceremonies Ghost into the center of "Wind". The fierce image that was created by Tianwen was then shattered in an instant!!!

"Wind" smashed and destroyed. Not even the surrounding grass and trees, being ripped up from the ground, were spared.

The huge storm centered around Chu Wanning let out a dazzling golden light. The sky grew dark, covered by flying sand and rocks. Whether it was a coffin or the dead, they were like grass fluttering in the wind.

She was sucked in and was cut up by the rapidly spinning Tianwen.

Sliced into tens of thousands pieces of debris. . .

When everything calmed down, there was no grass around Chu Wanning, a desolate and empty wasteland.

Other than him standing alone in his bright, auspicious clothes that resembled a blooming red lotus and a begonia blossom, there was only a ground covered in crushed white bones, and the horrible hissing of Tianwen's golden light.

From this point of view, Chu Wanning did the world a favour pumping out so many disciples.

Based on his performance today, if he wanted to, even if every disciple on Life-Death Peak were defeated, it wasn't impossible for him to keep fighting. . .

The golden light faded away.

Tianwen turned into flickering dots like stars, blending into Chu Wanning's palm.

He breathed a deep breath and frowned. Enduring the sharp pain in his shoulder, he slowly walked towards his disciples in the distance.

"How's Shi Mei?"

Coming to their side, Chu Wanning pushed through and asked.

The ink burned down to look at the unconscious beauty in his arms. He still wasn't awake, his breathing was weak, and his cheeks felt cold to the touch. This scene was too familiar, it was a nightmare that Mo Ran couldn't get rid of.

As Shi Mei was lying in his arms like this, as time went on, he wasn't breathing anymore. . .

Chu Wanning placed his hands on Madam Chen's and Shi Mei's necks. He mumbled out: "Hmm? How could the poisoning be so deep?"

Mo Ran's head snapped up: "Poison? Didn't you say they were okay? Didn't you say that they were just being compelled?"

Chu Wanning frowned: "The Master of Ceremonies Ghost relied on the fragrance powder to compel them. That was a kind of poison. I thought it was only superficial, but I didn't expect the poison to be this severe."

". . ."

"Send them back to Chen's house first." Chu Wanning said, "It's not difficult to expel the poison. It's fine as long as they don't die."

His voice was cold and unwavering. Although Chu Wanning normally spoke like this, at this moment, it really made people feel like he was uncaring and downplaying things.

Mo Ran was brought back to that year of heavy snow. He was knelt in the snow and in his arms was Shi Mei whose life was slipping away. With tears on his face, he hoarsely begged Chu Wanning to turn his head, look at his disciple, and pleaded for him to raise his hand to save his disciple's life.

But what did Chu Wanning say back then?

It was also in such a light and calm tone of voice.

Just like that, rejecting Mo Ran the one time he knelt down and begged.

In the heavy snow, the person in his arms gradually became as cold as the snow falling on his shoulders and eyelashes.

That day, Chu Wanning killed two disciples with his own hands.

One was Shi Mingjing, who he could have saved but didn't.

One was Mo Weiyu, kneeling in the snow mourning the death of his heart.

There was a sudden panic in his heart, a brutality, a snake-like flow of resentment, rage and viciousness.

There was a moment when he suddenly wanted to rise up and strangle Chu Wanning. Wanted to shed his kind and pleasant disguise, revealing the hideousness of a malevolent ghost. Like a fierce ghost from a previous life, it viciously tore into him, questioning him and demanding his life.

He claimed the lives of the two helpless disciples in that snowfield.

But when his eyes flicked up, they suddenly fell on Chu Wanning's blood-covered shoulder.

The beast's anger was suddenly cut off.

He didn't say another word, just stared at Chu Wanning's face with poorly-masked hateful eyes. Chu Wanning didn't notice. After a while, he lowered his head again and stared at Shi Mei's haggard face.

His mind gradually went blank.

If something happened to Shi Mei this time, then. . .

"Cough cough cough!!"

The person in his arms abruptly coughed. Mo Ran was stunned and his heart trembled. . . Shi Mei slowly opened his eyes, and his voice was extremely hoarse and weak.

"A-. . . Ran. . .?"

"Yes! It's me!" In his ecstasy, the haze disappeared. Mo Ran's eyes widened. The palms of his hands were pressed against Shi Mei's cool cheeks, and his shining eyes trembled. "Shi Mei, how do you feel? Does anything hurt? "

Shi Mei smiled lightly, his eyebrows still. He turned his head, and looked around: ". . . How are we here. . . How did I faint. . . Ah! Shizun. . . cough cough, this disciple is incompetent. . . this disciple. . ."

"Don't talk," Chu Wanning said.

He gave Shi Mei a pill: "Since you're awake, take this poison dispersing pill. Don't swallow it right away."

Shi Mei took the medicine then was suddenly taken aback, his colourless face appearing even more transparent: "Shizun, how did you get hurt? You're covered in blood. . ."

Chu Wanning still had that faint, calm, irritating voice: "It's nothing."

He got up and glanced at Mo Ran.

"You, find a way to bring both of them back to the Chen's residence."

When Shi Mei woke up, the gloom that was deep in his heart suddenly vanished. He nodded quickly: "Okay!"

"I'll go first. I have something to ask the Chen family."

Chu Wanning said and turned to leave. Facing the vast darkness of the night, the fields covered in decay, he finally couldn't supress a twitch in his eyebrow, revealing a painful expression.

The entire shoulder was pierced by five fingers, the tendons and veins were torn apart, and the Master of Ceremonies Ghost's claws even pierced the bones deep in his flesh and blood. No matter how he pretended to endure it calmly, no matter how he tried to stave the bleeding, he was still be a human being.

It still hurt. . .

But so what if it hurts.

He walked forward one foot after another, the hem of the wedding dress flying around.

For so many years, people respected and feared him, but no one has dared stand by his side. No one cares about him. He has long been used to it.

Yuheng of the Night Sky, the Beidou Immortal.

No one liked him. No one cared whether he lived or died, whether he was sick or suffering.

He seemed to be born without the need for the support of others, no need to rely on anyone, no need for company.

So there was no need to shout out in pain, and crying was even more unnecessary. Just go and dress the wounds, cut off all the festering flesh around the tear and apply ointment on it.

It didn't matter if no one cared about him.

Anyway, that's how he came to be alone. He's survived all these years. He can take care of himself.

When he came to the door of the Chen residence, before he entered the courtyard, he heard an ear-piercing scream.

Chu Wanning didn't care about aggravating his wound and immediately rushed in - only to see the old lady Chen with a disheveled hair, her eyes closed, but chasing her son and husband all over the house, only ignoring the young daughter of the Chen family. She stood beside her in panic, huddled tightly, shaking.

Seeing Chu Wanning enter, Mr. Chen and his eldest son screamed and rushed towards him: "Dao Master! Dao Master, help!"

Chu Wanning held them back. He glanced at Madam Chen's closed eyes, and said angrily: "Didn't I tell you to watch her and keep her from falling asleep?!"

"I can't help it! My wife is unwell. She usually goes to bed early. After you left, she was still holding out at first, then she fell asleep, and then she started to go crazy! She started screaming. . . yelling. . ."

Mr. Chen shivered and ducked behind Chu Wanning. He didn't notice that he was actually wearing an auspicious outfit, nor did he notice the hideous wound on Chu Wanning's shoulder.

Chu Wanning frowned and said: "What was she yelling?"

Before Mr. Chen spoke, the mad woman rushed over with her teeth bared, screaming mournfully. It was actually the voice of a young woman—

"Spineless liar! Pathetically fickle! I want you to pay with your lives! I want you all to die!"

Chu Wanning: ". . . This evil spirit stoops low." He turned back and sternly shouted at Mr. Chen, "Does this voice sound familiar?"

Mr. Chen’s mouth was trembling. He rolled his eyes and swallowed nervously: “I don’t know, I don't recognize it, I don’t know! Please help! Please help!

Just then, Madam Chen rushed over. Chu Wanning raised his uninjured arm, pointing at the sky above Madam Chen, and a lightning bolt slammed down, trapping Madam Chen within a barrier.

Chu Wanning turned his head with an icy gaze: "You really don't know?"

Mr. Chen repeated: "I really don't know! I really don't know!"

Chu Wanning didn't say anything else. He whipped out Tianwen and bound old lady Chen in the barrier.

He should have tied up the rest of the family outside, it would be more convenient and easier to gauge the situation, but Chu Wanning had his own rules of conduct. It wasn't easy using Tianwen to interrogate abnormal individuals. So he abandoned the soft approach and instead questioned the ghost in Madam Chen's body.

Interrogating ghosts wasn't the same as interrogating people.

When Tianwen interrogated people, they couldn't fight it and would speak.

When Tianwen interrogated ghosts, it would form a boundary where only Chu Wanning and the ghost would exist. Ghosts would regain their original appearance in the boundary and pass on their message to Chu Wanning.

A flame ignited on Tianwen. It snaked along the vine, burning from his end straight to old lady Chen.

The old lady let out a scream, and suddenly began to twitch. The original scarlet flame on the willow vine instantly turned into a blue ghost fire and burned back to Chu Wanning's side.

Chu Wanning closed his eyes. The fire burned up the willow vine onto his palm, but the ghost fire couldn't hurt him. It just burned all the way along his arm, down his chest, and then went out.

". . ."

The Chen family looked at the scene in horror. They didn't know what Chu Wanning was doing.

Chu Wanning's eyelashes trembled lightly, his eyes still closed, but a white light gradually appeared in front of his eyes. Immediately afterwards, he saw a small, white, jade-like foot step out of the light, and a girl about seventeen or eighteen years old appeared in his field of vision.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #danmei novel #danmei #yaoi #yaoi novel #bl novel #mo ran #chu wanning #ranwan

[touyasdoll]

Every Single Piece

Request from @negative2b: dabi comforting and showering reader with cuddles 💕💕

Pairing: Dabi x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: anxiety, depression, panic attacks, mental health warning in general

——————————

“Babe, I’m home.”

The familiar sound of Dabi’s wallet and keys thudding on the kitchen countertops stirred you from your thoughts for a moment.

Sniffling, you crawled across the floor of your shared bedroom and grabbed a handful of tissues, frantically blowing your nose and wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of the oversized hoodie you borrowed from his side of the closet.

“I’ll be right down!”

You tried to make your voice sound as normal as you could, but he must have heard through your attempted deception, because you could hear his footsteps rushing up the stairs immediately.

Tossing the tissues in the trash, you brought yourself to your feet and scampered into the bathroom to splash some cool water on your face.

You were patting your cheeks dry, observing your swollen, puffy eyes in the mirror when Dabi appeared behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

The concern was so evident on his face and in his calm, soothing tone. It broke the dam all over again.

Tears sprung from your eyes, and the overwhelming feeling that you would never be okay overtook you for seemingly the millionth time that day.

Your knees suddenly felt like they couldn’t support you. Your chest ached like there was a void there that nothing could ever fill. The strange sensation of feeling both so heavy and so empty hit you in violent waves yet again.

You were so tired of this. Of feeling this way for seemingly no reason. Of being tricked by your own fucking brain. Of feeling so awful you couldn’t even put it into words, though you had tried.

It’s something that’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling that you don’t really know until you’ve felt it yourself. Unfortunately, Dabi knew the feeling well. He knew what it was like to look off the edge of that cliff and to feel like you couldn’t help it, but to spiral down into the unknown and sit there, drowning in the overwhelming nothingness of it all.

A sweat broke out over your entire body and it felt like someone had snatched your last breath from your lungs as you stumbled backwards, feeling as if you were falling off that cliff yet again. You shut your eyes tight, bracing for the next wave of sorrow to heave from your already oxygen-starved chest.

But Dabi was there to catch you this time. His strong arms wrapped around you from behind, resting his hands on your hips to steady you as he leaned you back against his chest.

The contact alone provided a sense of relief to your overstimulated body as you allowed yourself to fall into his embrace.

“Another bad day, baby? I’m so sorry that you have to go through this, sweetheart. You don’t deserve this pain..”

Mismatched lips placed a chaste kiss on your temple as Dabi bent his knees, carefully scooping you off of your feet and pulling you tight into his warm chest.

“Dabi..”

Barely more than a whisper escaped your lips, tears still streaming as you clutched to the loose collar of his shirt like he was the only thing keeping you alive, because, honestly, sometimes he was.

He was so always so kind and even more patient. It was something that you two had been able to bond over, because you knew how each other felt. Everyone else in the world knew Dabi as aggressive and heartless, but with you, he was anything but.

As gently as he could, he laid down in your bed and pulled you against his chest as he feathered kisses into your hair. His left arm began rubbing small, soothing circles across your back, as his right began delicately combing through your hair.

“I know, baby, I know. It’s gonna be okay, all right? You and I both know you’re gonna come through this. I’ll be right here with you until then. I promise, I’m not gonna let you go until you’re begging me to.”

You could feel his sympathetic smile against your forehead as he placed more kisses still along the side of your face.

A quiet laugh found its way past your lips as you smiled for the first time that day.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want you to let me go.”

Nuzzling into his chest, you closed your eyes and basked in the ambiance of his proximity to you. His scent. His warmth. The beating of his heart thumping in your ears.

The world was finally quieting down. You finally felt safe again. Safe, warm, and happy.

His warm lips remained pressed to your temple as he spoke again, his voice low and reassuring.

“Well, then I guess we’ll be stuck like this for a while. That’s all right with me though, doll. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you.”

A tissue appeared in your peripheral vision. Dabi’s capable hand dabbed at the tears still lingering on your flushed cheeks before resting his palm on your cheek.

“Thank you, babe. I’m so sorry for all this, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I jus—“

His thumb ghosted over your lips as a gentle shushing noise left his own.

“Baby, nothing is wrong with you. You are perfect. We all have bad days. You’ve seen me through mine. This is the absolute least that I can do. You never have to apologize for being human around me, okay? I love you. Absolutely all of you. None of this makes me love you any less.”

You place your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze as you place a soft kiss on the inside of his palm and smile against his touch.

The last of your tears are swept away by his fingertips as he looks down into your eyes with nothing but love and sympathy shining through his cerulean orbs.

“I love you, Y/n. I love every single piece of you.”

Tangling the fingers of your other hand absently in his hair, you examine his features. The eyes that have shed tears both with you and for you. The nose that has wrinkled through the countless tickle fights that you’ve subjected him to. The lips that have only ever poured love, support, and adoration out for you.

“I love you too, Dabi. I love every single piece of you too.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours.

Sighing through your nose, you feel the tension of the day begin to melt off of your back as you lean in to his delicate kisses.

“Did I mention how I much I love you already?”

His lips curled into a smile, continuing to connect with your in a series of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting.

“Once or twice.”

A giggle vibrates off of your grin and his heart soars.

Dabi hated seeing you in pain and he took great pride in being the one who was able to elicit that beautiful noise from your lips after an episode like this.

Hearing your laugh was music to his ears and he didn’t give a damn about just how cliché that may sound.

Seeing you smile gave him the strength he needed to carry in each day.

Being given the opportunity to love you was a blessing to him and it wasn’t something that he took lightly. He wanted to love you with everything he had and he would never offer you anything less than that.

Both of his arms wound around you once more, holding your to his chest as if you were the most precious thing in the world, because to him, you were.

The warmth of his lips nestled against the shell of your ear, whispering now as he resumed playing with your hair and rubbing those wonderfully soothing circles into your back.

“Well, I hope you aren’t sick of hearing about it yet, because there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Your shoulders became slack as the remainder of the day’s tensions evaporated from your body, allowing you to fully sink into your lover’s welcoming grasp, where you blissfully spent the rest of your evening.

The stress of the day had taken a toll on you. It wasn’t long before you had fallen asleep on Dabi’s chest, but he didn’t mind. Feeling you up against him, safe and sound asleep in his arms brought him his own sense of comfort.

He stayed right there, curled up with you, lips still pressed against your temple as he drifted off to sleep himself.

#dabi #dabi bnha #dabi fanfic #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #touya imagine #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #mha #my hero #my hero x reader #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #dabi imagine #fluff #dabi fluff #todoroki touya #dabi todoroki #tw mental health #tw panic attack

[hyuckssunchip]

Here’s The Deal

Pairings: Mark x Reader, ft. 00′ line (Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin)

Words: 5.9K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), slight smut, angst

Summary: 

Y/N gets caught in a tight situation as she discovers that her relationship was a lie. Mark knows just how much she really means to him, but how can he prove it after what he’s done? How much was real?

“Hi Y/N!”

“Oh hey Mark,” you say as you slide into your seat and rest your forehead on your desk. You let out a deep sigh. 

“What’s up?” He asked laying his own head down to face yours.

You let out another exaggerated sigh, “Nothing. I just didn’t get much sleep last night. I was up all night working on my writing assignment for philosophy.”

“Oh… Well maybe you and I can go to that one cafe to get coffee together. Maybe lunch?” Mark offered quietly.

“Huh?”

“You know, after class so you can wake up.” He said, quieter and less sure of himself.

“Oh… Well, I actually don’t like coffee. But thanks for the offer anyways.” You said, lifting your head up slightly, just enough to give him a weak smile.

Mark looked at you, furrowing his eyebrows and biting his lip. He gives you a slight nod before leaning back in his chair. He then turned his head to the right shaking his head at his friends that sat adjacent to him.

THE NEXT DAY

“Just ask her!”

“Shhh! Don’t talk so loud!”

“Grow some balls man!”

“Guys can you just shut up?! This is not helping. Telling me to man up is not going to get her to say yes.”

“Well maybe, stop beating around the bush and straight up ask her!”

“Would you two shut up? You are not the one who has to---”

“Oh hey guys. What are you still doing here? Class ended like half an hour ago?” You say, accidentally interrupting their conversation.

“Uh.. We’re uh… just discussing our project for uh… drama? Yeah. Drama.” Mark’s friend Jaemin answered. 

“Drama? Why the hell would we be in drama?” Renjun hissed at Jaemin. After a couple seconds of painful silence Jeno nudged Mark forward. 

“Uhh.. yeah. What are you doing here?” He asked stumbling towards you a bit.

“Oh… I just left my notebook here.” You said pointing towards the blue spiral notebook on one of the desks. “I’ll just grab it real quick and let you guys get back to your… discussing.” You said, giggling a little at the thought of them doing drama. 

“Mark! Do it now!” Haechan whispered to Mark pushing him into you. As you struggled to keep your balance from the new weight of Mark, he wrapped his arms around yours to stabilize the both of you. 

“Oh, sorry.” he said, quickly shoving himself away from you as if you burned him.

“Actually we’re done discussing our project, right Jaemin?” Jeno said, looking sharply at his younger friend, who nodding vigorously at you. Before you knew it they were gone and you were left alone with Mark.

“Hey, maybe… do you want to… watch that new movie that came out? Crazy Rich Asians?” Mark suddenly asked out of the blue.

“Oh! Yeah I heard that was going to be really good. I’d love to go! My roommate really wants to see that, I’ll ask when she’s free.” You reply excitedly.

Mark let out a sigh of exasperation before grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to face him. “Are you totally oblivious or just trying to let me down easy?” He asked staring into your eyes. For some odd reason you couldn’t seem to look away and suddenly your heart skipped a beat. 

TWO WEEKS LATER

You and Mark had been dating for a month, ever since he confronted you and made you realize your feelings for him. 

For the short amount of time that the two of you had actually been dating, you two were really close. You had gotten physical pretty quickly, although you didn’t mind it too much. Mark was something else, he made you feel things you had never felt before and it had become almost addicting.

However, despite this the two of you haven’t slept together yet, after all it was only a few weeks of dating, way too soon for you. On multiple occasions you had gotten close but were interrupted, you were secretly thankful that the two of you couldn’t go further.

Your relationship wasn’t about the physical, Mark made you happier than you thought was possible. His constant laughing and goofy smile always had you thankful to have him around. He really did brighten your day.

Mark was sweet and thoughtful, always coming up with spontaneous dates for the two of you and kind gestures that made your heart skip.

You’ve never been in love before, but maybe, just maybe you were on the right track this time.

It was Saturday, and for once you had panned a surprise for your boyfriend. A picnic date. You climbed the few flights of stairs that led to his dorm, which he shared with Haechan and Renjun, two of his friends that you were acquainted with. Nothing more than a couple of interactions, but you’ve never run into them at their dorm, save for the time they caught you and Mark in a compromising position.

Just as you were about to knock on his door, you heard voices behind the door. You knew that you shouldn’t eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help but lean in. 

With your ear pressed against the door, you could clearly distinct between each of their voices.

“I don’t know. I’m so close it's just frustrating!” Clearly Mark.

“Why don't you just go for it? Why are you dancing around?” Jeno?

“I don't want to make her do anything that she doesn't want to. Especially if she’s not ready.” Your heart swelled at Mark’s response.

“What do you mean? Why do you care?” You frowned at Haechan’s response, why wouldn’t he care?

“Ha! Don't tell me you’re actually starting to like her?” You froze.

Her? Is there someone else? Is he talking about me?

There was a pregnant pause.

“Dude?!”

“... guys… stop.”

“She’s a fucking bet! Just finish it quickly, you’re so close. If you don’t we’re all fucked! You know that!” You felt like throwing up. A bet?

“Mark! Tae Oh will kill us if you don’t finish this! Please!” Finish this? Am I a game?

“I know! You don’t think I know that?! You think I want this?!”

With your ear still pressed firmly against the door, you let out a muffled cry.

“Fuck!”

As he yelled, you flinched and backed yourself away from the door.

You let out a silent sob and rushed back to your dorm room, leaving spilled contents of your picnic along the way. As you pushed your way into your dorm, thankful that both of your roommates happened to be gone, you threw yourself on your bed. 

Your emotions were all over the place, you were sobbing, upset that you weren’t enough for him, upset that you were a bet, upset that he had made a fool of you. But like a flip of the switch you became pissed. He played with you, with your feelings as if you were nothing. Nothing he said or did was real, your whole relationship was a lie.

You wiped your eyes dry and wrung your hands, pausing when you felt the promise ring Mark had given you just recently for your one month anniversary. More angry than you had ever been you ripped your ring off your finger and chucked it across the room hitting the door. It bounced off and landed under your desk, but you didn’t care enough to pay attention.

Just as you were cooling off you got a goodnight text from Mark. On any other day you would be swooning at the cute text, but today you were not having it. You ignored his texts and ended up falling asleep before your roommates ever made it back.

The next morning you woke up to your alarm blaring, looking at the clock you realized you hit snooze one too many times and rushed to the door. You made to class with little time to spare and even before the professor made it. You scanned the room for a seat, and found a few. There was one next to Mark, saved for you as usual but you stopped yourself, opting to sit next to Jisung. You smiled awkwardly at him as you sunk into the seat. You felt your phone buzz again and ignored the text as soon as you saw Mark’s name on your screen. You sigh and ignore the text, pulling out your notebook and start doodling.

Mark frowned to himself a couple of rows behind you. He couldn’t focus the entire class and couldn’t help but stare at you confused. Before he knew it the class was over and you were rushing past him, not even sparing a glance. Before he could gather his things you were gone.

To be honest, it was a lot of work avoiding Mark. It’s like he had it on his agenda to track you, normally you would absolutely love it, but as of right now that was the last thing you wanted.

At some point you were out of energy and could no longer continue the chase.

“Can we talk?” Mark asked, nervously wringing his hands together. 

You sighed, thinking that there wasn’t really much else you could do. Stopping in your tracks you plopped down on the empty bench you were close to passing. You tried to hold back a scoff, sure that he was worried about losing his bet. It took everything in you not to throw that in his face and stalk off.

You heard Mark let out a relieved sigh, collapsing into the spot next to you, but consciously leaving a respectable gap between the two of you.

For a moment the two of you sat in silence, neither wanted to get to the discussion at hand.

“What happened?” There was a quiver in his voice and you cursed your heart for wavering at the sound. No matter how upset you were, you still liked him and could’t help but feel guilty at suddenly ghosting the desperate boy.

You glanced at his side profile and admired him. He was leaning over his knees, staring intensely at his shoes. 

For the first time since you overheard his conversation you thought about his position. 

Why did he even do the bet in the first place? Mark was a nice guy, at least that’s what you had always thought. And why was Tae Oh threatening them? 

You recalled what you had heard. Jeno had said that Tae Oh would kill them if Mark couldn’t finish the bet. Did that mean he was in trouble?

With one last glance at the forlorn boy next to you, you had decided. It was a stupid idea, and it would only hurt you, but for some reason you couldn’t stand the thought of Mark suffering. To the point where you would put him before you.

“Nothing happened.” You mumbled out, your internal conflict starting to give you a headache.

His eyes searched for yours, “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not.” You gulped, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I swear you just ran the other direction, and it took me so long to get you to talk to me. If I did something wrong we can talk about it, otherwise we can’t fix it.” He pulled your hand into his hesitantly, rubbing softly over the skin, sending warmth through your body. You didn’t miss the frown on his face when he noticed your ring wasn’t on the usual finger.

You pulled your hand out of his, wiping your palms on your jeans and fumbling with your fingers. 

“I promise you nothing is wrong, I’m just stressed about school. You know cause finals are coming up.” You hoped he would fall for it, after all he knew how you were during testing periods.

“Right.” His eyes shook, “How about we have a small date night, that’ll make you feel better, right?” 

You nodded at nothing in particular, eyes now trained on the bird that was digging for dinner in front of you.

“I’ll pick you up at seven then? We can get take out a watch a movie.” He asked, nodding to himself.

“Uh, I’ll just go to your dorm, I have stuff to do anyways, it’s on the way.” You rejected his offer, not thinking you would be able to pretend for a whole car ride.

“Right.”

You stood up abruptly, not able to take the tension any longer. “I’ll see you tonight then.” 

Then as fast as you could you escaped.

You had spent the last few hours thinking about what the bet could possibly be. Tae Oh was one of Mark’s seniors, you often saw them in the same group, but he was notorious for be an ass. There was nothing more to say about that. Tae Oh was an ass and you didn’t doubt for a moment that he was capable of making Mark’s life hell.

Groaning, you ran your hands over your face. Why did you have to care? 

You racked your brain for any clues. The other day you had heard Mark saying that he didn’t want to push you. Push you into what? 

Tae Oh would’ve only had two things in mind when making the bet, break your heart or sleep with you. You frowned, Tae Oh didn’t know you that well, why would he want to break your heart, and as a horny college student it made more sense for him to want Mark to sleep with you.

Your eyes widened in realization. That’s why they said he was so close. Mark and you had gotten intimate, but never actually did anything. He must have told them that and that’s what they meant by getting close.

You chewed on your bottom lip. Could you do that for him? Honestly, before this whole situation you would’ve been more than willing to sleep with him on your own accord, god knows you were close. But you were starting to feel uncomfortable with the thought after knowing his intentions.

“Y/N?” You jolted up straight, “What are you doing? How long have you been there?”

Mark rubbed the back of his neck, tilting his head in confusion.

“Oh, not long, I was just about to knock.” Your face heated up in embarrassment.

“Oh hey Y/N.” You made eye contact with Renjun who was sitting on the couch with a book, feet in the position of kicking a very focused Haechan. 

“Stop it. You’re going to make me die.” Haechan retaliated with a quick shove, “Hey Y/N.”

Though he didn’t look at you, you still smiled at the interaction.

“Let me kick them out, I told them you’d be over around seven.” He laughed quietly at the scene.

“Renjun, you asshole! I died!” The bright flash on the TV screen was proof and Haechan didn’t look like he was going to let it go.

“Guys! Y/N’s here, I told you she was coming.” The other two froze, staring at Mark like they were having a silent conversation before Renjun slammed his book shut.

“Right. Haechan, there’s that new place down the street that has great tacos, let’s go.” He nudged the pouting counterpart aggressively.

“But my game-” 

“Haechan.” Renjun raised his eye brows while staring down Haechan, no doubt a sign that it was a chance for Mark to complete the bet.

“Oh. Yeah... I like tacos.” He stood up giving you a short salute. “Bye Y/N.” 

He couldn’t help but send a wink in your direction, making you wince in reminder of your situation.

Before you knew it, it was once again just you and Mark.

“So I already ordered, do you want to choose a movie?” Mark made his way to the now unoccupied couch.

“Sure.” You shuffled behind him, mind not really thinking about the movie.

As you fell into the cushion of the couch, Mark slid close to you, eliminating any space that might’ve been between you two.

He pulled you into his arms, gripping you tightly as if he was worried that you would slip away.

“Let’s just stay here for a moment, we can choose a movie when the food gets here.” He mumbled into your neck, eliciting an automatic sigh in response.

“You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose right?” You tensed at his confession, obviously referring to the bet.

“Hmmm.” There was nothing that you could do but hum in response.

Mark began to pepper soft kisses along your neck, leaving a little trail of love bites. You unconsciously opened your neck, giving him more access.

His kisses got deeper, leaving what you know would be dark spots, proof of possession. Soon he reached your mouth, pulling you in. He nipped at your bottom lip, asking for access, to which you gave him without hesitation.

Your hands moved to tangle in his hair, gripping softly and tugging him closer. He groaned into your mouth in response, and you could feel the tips of his mouth curve into a smile.

His hands which were once rubbing your waist, gripped you tightly, pulling you onto his lap where you were forced to straddle him. 

For just a moment he was forced to pull away, looking up at you with smiling eyes, searching for the same in your own.

You couldn’t do anything but crash against his lips, leaning your body into his. There was nothing but the thin layers of your shirts, the rapid beating of his heart easily felt, and you knew that he could feel yours as well.

One hand reached up for your neck, a way for him to lock your head in place, digging deeper. The other hand meandered its way to your thigh, massaging your inner thigh, causing you to grind yourself on his lap, getting growl from him underneath you. 

You felt a change in him, his grip became more needy, you were sure there would be marks in the morning. 

You pulled back for air, startled at the sound of someone at the door.

“Delivery!” Mark sighed, shaking his head for you to ignore it, as he leaned back in to resume.

“Mark, the food’s here.” You mumbled, keeping the distance between you.

“Forget the food, we’ll just order again.” You kept a hand on his chest, preventing him from starting again.

“Mark.” 

“Ugh, fine.” You wiggled off his lap and collapsed in the seat you were originally in. Your eyes followed his back as he opened the door, paying for the food and holding the bag in his tight grip. He was especially tart with the man, in an obvious hurry.

Once the door was shut again he slid the food on the coffee table, and crawled on the couch towards you, having every intention of picking up where you left off.

“Mark, the food’s going to get cold.” You giggled at the sounds he made in protest.

He leaned against the back of the couch, throwing his head back in frustration.

“Fine, we’ll eat first.” He cocked his head at you slightly, choosing to ignore the feeling arising in the pit of his stomach.

You stuck your fork in the first container, popping it into your mouth before chewing thoughtfully.

“Mark...” you sighed, “I actually have something to talk to you about.”

You felt the knot in your stomach dissipate, knowing that confronting him would ease your mind. The plan of going through with it tonight didn’t sit right with you, and you knew it would bother you if you didn’t say something.

“Shoot.” He nodded, chowing down himself.

You let out a deep sigh, instantly catching his attention, and put down your fork.

His brows furrowed as he too set his down, a feeling that things were about to become serious.

“I uh...” you cleared your throat. “I actually know about the bet.”

He clearly stiffened and eyes widened at your admission.

“I can explain!” He rushed out, interrupting you in hopes of stopping whatever you were planning on saying.

“Okay.” You said, shocking him with how calm you were.

“Huh?” 

“Go ahead, explain it to me.” Although you knew the gist of what was going on, you were actually curious to know how he got roped into something like this.

“Uh... how much do you know?” He cut himself off. “Actually I’ll just tell you everything.”

He reached for the cup of water in front of him, quickly downing it in hopes of drowning his nerves as well.

“Do you know who Tae Oh is? I swear it wasn’t a bet between my friends, they would never do that.” He gulped, watching your blank expression. “I think you’ve met him before, he’s not a great guy.”

There was an obvious shudder from him. “About a month ago he made a bet that I couldn’t get with a girl, and I honestly didn’t care what he thought. But... he has some stuff over Jeno’s head, and he promised that if I succeeded he would let it go.”

You pursed your lips at the mention of Jeno. 

“I... I know I told you I’d tell you everything, but I’m not sure it’s right to tell you about Jeno. I can ask him to talk to you, but I can’t tell you.” He bit his lip anxiously, praying that you would understand.

You nodded, admiring his loyalty, despite his current situation. You gestured for him to continue.

“It’s not like I chose you, I would never purposely hurt you or do that to you. I... I honestly liked you a lot before he even suggested the bet.” He gave you a bashful look, a sudden switch from his nerve wracking expression.

“Tae Oh chose you, I think he did it because he knew that I liked you. I mean back then I wasn’t exactly subtle about it.” A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “I totally understand if you absolutely hate me now, I mean I would too.”

You looked at his dejected form, “I don’t hate you. If I did I would’ve broke up with you the moment that I found out.”

He looked at you with a confused expression, “Why didn’t you break up with me?” There was a hint of hope in his voice. He wondered if it was possible for you still to like him after what he had done, or was supposed to do.

It would’ve hurt your pride to admit you still liked him despite his actions, so you chose to go with the pity card. “I overheard you talking in your dorm, and someone mentioned that Tae Oh would kill you if you couldn’t finish. I know Tae Oh could really make your life miserable, and I didn’t want to be responsible for that.”

Mark visibly saddened at the idea that you didn’t like him, that you didn’t want to feel guilty about the aftermath.

“Here’s the deal,” you let out, finally coming to a conclusion, “I can’t sleep with you. I don’t feel comfortable with that anymore.”

Mark winced, feeling a tight lump grow in his throat at the thought of you not able to stand him, and the thought that he makes you uncomfortable.

“I don’t want Tae Oh to win though, for both your sake and Jeno’s.” He made eye contact, clear that he was shocked.

“I don’t know what the rules are, or what proof you have to have, but I’ll help you with that. But that’s all I can do.”

Mark didn’t look thrilled at the idea, if anything he looked dejected. However grateful he was that you were willing to do this to help him, he couldn’t help but wish you didn’t pity him. If it weren’t for Jeno he would’ve rather taken punishment from Tae Oh, after all that’s what he deserved.

“Mark, you have no idea what this means to me. Thank you so much.” Jeno grinned at him, wrapping him in a suffocating hug, making Mark feel worse.

“Right, it’s not like I couldn’t do it for you.” It was monotone, he was unable to show his real feelings about the situation.

“So how’s Y/N?” Jaemin asked, watching the interaction.

“What do you mean?” Mark furrowed his brows and directed his attention at the other boy.

“Well, you guys can still date, she doesn’t have to know it was a bet.” He shrugged as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. Oh how badly Mark wanted that statement to be true.

“No.”

“No? What do you mean?” It was Jaemin’s turn to be confused.

“We broke up.” Mark avoided eye contact with anyone else, staring up at the sky and squinting in the bright light.

“Why? Did you tell her?” Haechan asked, “I didn’t think you had it in you to do that right after the bet was over.” He frowned to himself. “Don’t you think that was too harsh?”

Renjun elbowed Haechan in the side, shutting him up. As one of the more attentive of the group, he could see the way that Mark was acting in response.

“What could I do?” Mark shrugged, trying so hard not to let his voice crack and play it off like he didn’t care. If only they knew that it was the other way around. But he took Haechan’s blows, after all he deserved it, he was the cause of it anyways.

“Y/N! Hey!” You heard Jeno’s footsteps sidle up beside you, the faint breathing evidence that he had jogged to you.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly embarrassed to thank you.

“Um, thanks. I just want to let you know that it wasn’t like it seemed, Mark was just trying to help me. He’s not a bad guy, I know he probably seemed harsh, but he really didn’t want to do it.” 

He gulped, and peered over at your face, more than shocked at the fact that it was expressionless. Too similar to the one they had gotten used to seeing on Mark.

“I know.” You hiked your bag up higher on you bag, gripping tightly on the straps for support.

“Mark really likes you. For real. He’s been really upset, beating himself up for it you know. He won’t admit to it, but we all can see it.”

You squinted your eyes closed, trying to ignore the underlying meaning of Jeno’s words.

“He wouldn’t ever just use you like that. You know him.”

You had enough.

“Do I? Because this was a far cry from the Mark that I knew, or at least I thought I knew.” You sent one last look before escaping out the doorway, leaving Jeno behind with a hurt look.

Jeno never wanted to hurt either of you, but it was a consequence of his stupid decisions. And now other people had to pay for his mistakes.

“Y/N.” You stopped in your tracks, it seemed that no matter where you went you couldn’t get away from them.

“Renjun.” You replied curtly, having nothing else to say to him. Beside him was the familiar pair of shoes, one’s you would always recognize.

Mark shyly lifted his hand to greet you, but dropped it as if he realized that he no longer had the right to.

Renjun, ever the observer watched the interaction, taking in the tense air between the two of you.

“Guys I’m telling you something’s not right. I know it was stupid, but Mark is really suffering.” Renjun spilled to the rest of the boys, “We ran into Y/N and he looked so depressed. It was really bad.”

“Well, of course it’s gonna be bad, Mark basically used her.” Haechan let out, never thinking about his words.

“Haechan!” 

“What am I wrong?” He raised his eyebrow in question.

“You don’t have to say it like that.” Jaemin scolded, glancing at Jeno who seemed more stoney than usual.

“He’s right though.” Jeno let out. “It’s my fault, I never should’ve let Mark do it.”

“Jeno, you didn’t know what Tae Oh was going to do.” Jaemin comforted him, to which he was met with empty eyes.

“I ran into Y/N, but she wasn’t having it. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive him.” Jeno dropped his head in his hands.

There was a silence as none of the boys knew how to comfort him.

“What’s going on?” Mark stood in the doorway, watching the scene before him unfold.

“Nothing.” Renjun quickly covered up. 

“Jeno? What’s going on?” Mark ignored Renjun’s excuse and focused on the downtrodden boy.

“I’m sorry.” Jeno’s voice sounded broken, leaving Mark on edge.

“Why?”

“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have let you do it. I swear I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. I tried to explain everything to Y/N, I’ll try again, I promise.” He pleaded with Mark, hoping that he would forgive him.

“Oh.” Mark stepped back from Jeno, the emotionless tone coming through again.

“Please, I promise I’ll try to fix things.”

“Don’t, it’s fine. There’s nothing to fix anymore.” Jeno hated the look Mark had on his face. “Don’t bother explaining, she already knows everything.”

“What?” Renjun butted in, unable to hold his curiosity.

“She overheard everything. We didn’t actually sleep together, she just let me pretend so we would win the bet.” Mark picked up his bag that he had dropped on the floor earlier. 

“But-” 

“Jeno, it’s fine. Explaining won’t change anything. There’s nothing you can do to change it. Don’t stress yourself out, or blame yourself. I’m just as much at fault, I chose to do it.”

With that Mark, left the same way he came in, no longer feeling like he could stand to be under the scrutiny of the other boys.

“Wait, she knew? And she faked the whole thing for him?” Haechan scratched his head, still processing the bomb Mark dropped on them. “But doesn’t that mean that she still cares about him? Why would she do that for him?”

“Haechan for once you didn’t say something stupid. I agree. I think we should talk to Y/N, chances are if she did that for him, she still cares about him.” Renjun nodded enthusiastically, eager to fix the situation.

“I’ll do it.” Jeno said, gritting his teeth. 

“Jeno.”

“No, I fucked everything up, I need to fix it.” He turned to Jaemin, placing a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him.

“I know what you did.” Jeno blurted out, startling you. 

“What do you mean?”

“I know you and Mark didn’t actually sleep together.” The look on his face slightly scared you, and you weren’t sure whether him knowing was a good thing or not.

“Did he tell you that?” You cocked your head to the side, trying to feel out the situation.

“Yeah, and I know why you did it too.” Jeno leaned down, getting eye level with you. “You still like him don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I did it cause I felt bad. I didn’t want to feel like it was my fault you guys would suffer.” You looked away from him, watching the stream of students exit the library. “And no, how could I like him after that? He used me.”

“You know exactly why though, if you’re going to hate anyone, hate me.” His words more aggressive, a tactic he was using to redirect your anger.

“I don’t hate him,” you mumbled out, “and I don’t hate you.”

“See, you did that because you still care about him.” He prodded, “If you didn’t you would’ve never let him pretend to go through with it.” 

He paused letting that sink in, “For what it’s worth, he still cares very much about you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so depressed.”

You sighed, “I don’t want him to be depressed.”

“Then you should talk to him. I know you guys still have feelings for each other, and honestly it’s hurting you guys more to ignore it.” He raised his eyebrows earnestly, giving you a tempting offer. 

“I know for a fact that if you were willing to take him back, he would beg for forgiveness. Mark loves you Y/N.” The last bit came out soft, but it had the biggest impact.

Your heart ached, yearning for him despite the situation.

“Just talk to him. I know I don’t deserve to ask that of you, but I’m begging you, for Mark’s sake.” You had never seen Jeno this distraught before.

All you could do is nod.

“Y/N?” Mark froze at the sight of you standing on the other side of the door.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, com- come on in.” He stuttered, embarrassed at how nervous he was. “Do you want something to drink... or?” 

“No, I’m fine.” You mumbled, staring at your sleeves. “I just wanted to talk about, you know.”

“Right.”

The two of you took the chance to settle into the familiar couch, memories of your relationship coming back to you.

“I don-”

“I know-”

You blushed at the awkward atmosphere.

“You first.” Mark let you continue.

You cleared your throat. “I talked to Jeno.”

He nodded silently, “I told him to stop bothering you, I’ll talk to him again.”

“No, there’s no need.” You let out, “We talked about some things, more specifically things between us.”

Mark gulped, unable to see where you were going with this. 

“I’m probably really stupid for doing this, but I’m obviously attracted to stupid.” You tried to joke, referencing Mark. No matter how much you tried to relieve the tension, it still hovered over you like a think cloud.

He let out a nervous laugh, dying out to let you continue.

“You have no how much I wanted to hate you when I found out. And you have no idea how much I hated myself for not hating you.”

Mark sat up at the insinuation that you didn’t hate him.

“Mark, I still like you a lot. There’s a part of me that hates myself for liking you even after everything, but there’s a larger part of me that tells me that this is more important.” You took a deep breath, struggling to finish your thought.

“I love you.”

You choked back your breath in shock, you weren’t expecting him to confess so bluntly.

“I was stupid and I hate that I did that to you, but I want you do know that I don’t regret helping Jeno, I just should’ve gone about it a different way, one that wouldn’t have any casualties. I would’ve begged on my knees if I had to, but I didn’t feel like I had the right to. Honestly, I figured I would be doing you a favor by leaving you alone.” His nervous tick of picking at his nails made it clear that he was just as nervous as you were.

“I don’t want to praise you for doing something like this, because it was stupid and hurtful, but I’m glad you were able to help Jeno.” You smiled at him, “He’s really thankful, you have know idea how many times he let me know that. He also kept me updated on you, and that definitely didn’t help my feelings go away.”

Mark felt a surge of happiness rise in him, the realization that you still like him, the hope that this wasn’t the end of your relationship, and the gratitude that his prayers were answered.

“Mark, I love you too.”

© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff #nct mark lee #nct mark #mark lee #mark #nct imagines #nct scenerios #nct drabbles #nct mark angst #nct mark fluff #nct mark smut #mark fluff #mark angst #mark smut #nct renjun #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct jaemin #fool sun

[stargazingthenightaway]

See Something You Like? Part 1

Pairing: Rebels Rex x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warning: NSFW 18+ Sexual tension, dirty thoughts, praise kink, size kink, Oral (female receiving) unwanted attention (not from main character) Dom!Rex

A/N: So I’ve decided to write a few, but what I thought would be a one shot has turned into this monster, so I’ve decided to break it down. Not sure how long it’ll be, but I get the feeling it’ll be at least 3 parts. This is inspired by @samrubio art especially her Rex pieces, go check it out! Also, if I missed any warning tags, let me know :)

It was a rarity for the firing range to be this empty. Usually it was crammed to the walls with training drills for new recruits, post mission vent sessions with the faceless targets or if you were unlucky, the cocky fly-boys trying to one-up each other, seeing who had the better ‘blaster’. If you were really unlucky, instead of leaving, their attention would turn to whoever they thought would enjoy their company, which consisted of what barely passed as a conversation before leading to the real objective, servicing the dangly bit between their legs. Their limp pick up line “I’ve got another blaster you can handle sweet cheeks” was in just as much need of an overhaul as their piloting skills. Sadly, you’ve been on the receiving end of these lack-lustre ‘invitations’ far too often and are quick to shut them down. It’s become so repetitive you can time it to the second when they make their appearance. All these boys are the same, give them a flight suit, a ship and they think they’re the Maker’s gift to the galaxy. 

‘They’re just so immature’ you think to yourself, a scowl on your face. Your last rebuffed fly-boy hasn’t gotten the memo that you’re not interested and continues to pester you. As if you’d want to spend 30 seconds listening to a dying bantha grunt into your ear, fumbling to get himself off and counting down until you’re smothered in dissatisfaction. Hard. Pass.

The only reason you have some peace is because they’re out on a mission, but you will take the reprieve. It’s a joy to have an opportunity to fit in some blaster practice without an audience. While you weren’t the worst shot in the rebellion, you certainly weren’t the best, but with enough practice you hope you’ll be placed on some off-planet missions. 

Sliding into an empty booth, you pick up one of the safety helmets, placing it on your head and type in one of the easier simulation codes on the keypad on the side of the wall. As the program calibrates, you remove the blaster from its holster on your thigh, flicking off the safety and settling into your stance. Breathe in, breathe out, shoot. This mantra helps get a rhythm going and soon you’re oblivious to everything around you except your target. The steady stream of blaster fire rings out, mixed with the sounds of high tings for each successful hit and clunky thunks with each miss. It’s pleasing to note that with each round there are more tings than there are thunks. Soon you’re drifting off with the repetitive movements, your thoughts going through your encounters with him.

Captain Rex, member of the Ghost crew and key participant of the rebellion. A legend in his own right. You had first seen him in passing, bringing up some data pads needed for a debrief and you just happened to look in his direction as you were leaving, and stars did you look. He was thick everywhere. His armour did nothing to hide his size as your gaze travelled from his barrel chest, to his thick waist, finally ending at his powerful thighs. Rex has the kind of body that makes you want to rub yourself all over him like a nexu in heat. As he spoke with Agent Fulcrum, Rex crossed his arms over his chest, pulling his shirt tight over his biceps, and your mouth watered. You were so busy ogling that Rex had finished his conversation and looked over your way.

Seeing you staring he gives you a small smirk and a wink before mouthing “see something you like?” You swear he flexed his arms a bit as he did that.

The smirk on his face grows as you feel your face heat up, hightailing it out of the debriefing room and making your way back to your office. It’s quite a while before your blush goes away, and more than one person asks if you’re feeling well. 

The next time you saw him was a bit more hands-on and it still makes you clench your thighs together when you recall this particular memory. You’d been paired as sparring partners, and if you thought Rex looked good in his armour, he was downright edible stripped down to a simple training shirt and grey sweatpants. The shirt stretched in all the right places and the pants were loose enough to provide movement where it was needed, but just snug enough to tease you about what he was packing.

You were so distracted that he easily put you on your back, repeatedly. Each time he knocked you over his thighs would bracket your own, your hands pinned by your head and the rest of his body caging you in. How in the Sith hells were you supposed to concentrate if this was exactly where you wanted to be! You clawed at whatever self-restraint you still possessed to not rub up against him, but maker he made it difficult. 

After the final throw Rex settled on your thighs and smirked down at you “What’s the matter mesh’la?” He took in your flushed cheeks, “You seem distracted, I didn’t think you’d take everything I gave you so easily.” 

Your face was on fire, your brain traitorously giving you ideas of what else you’d take from him, and how well you’d enjoy it.

“Surely you can get me on my back.” You eyes snapped up to his, “all you need to do is use your hips and thrust.”

Fuck.

You felt yourself get wet as a throb built up between your legs from just his voice alone. You needed to finish whatever this had become so you could finish your own needs, preferably in the privacy of your own bunk. With a strength that surprised even you, you took Rex’s advice to thrust your hips up, bracing you leg to provide enough leverage to push him over. The look of surprise on his face that you took his words to heart was something you would never forget. 

As you settled over his waist, his hands came up to your sides, sliding down to rest on your hips, keeping you in place. 

“Knew you could do it” His surprise had turned into a beatific smile, looking up at you as his hands squeezed your hips. “Good girl.”

The triumphant words die on your lips as you look down at him and see exactly how you’re positioned. Your hands are braced on his chest and your thighs have splayed out to the sides to fit over his waist. There is a pleasant ache along your inner thighs from the stretch. If anyone saw the suggestive scene of the pair of you right now, the gossip hotline would be buzzing for months. You made a motion to move but Rex’s hands keep you snug against himself. His thumbs had made their way under the edge of your shirt and traced light circles over your skin. Arousal flooded your veins and you felt your slick starting to soak your panties. 

You look back up to Rex’s face and he tightens his grip “See something you like mesh’la?”

Before you could answer the door burst open, causing the two of you to startle, zoning back in to the present. Chatter filled the room as Wolffe and Gregor brought in the next group of ‘shinies’ for sparring practice. The bubble of intimacy had burst and you hurriedly got off Rex, babbling some thanks about the advice before bolting out of the room. That was six weeks ago, the Ghost having left on a mission, taking Rex with them.

The buzzer in your booth goes off, signalling the end of the simulation. You’re not ready to head back to the responsibilities of intelligence just yet, so you up the intensity of another exercise and when you’re happy with your rhythm, let your thoughts turn back to Rex. 

He’d become the prominent figure in all your fantasies. Before that, neither your toys or your hands would work to get you off, leaving you frustrated and horny. In a fit of desperation you thought back to your spar, but instead of sitting on Rex’s waist you were sitting on his face.

You imagined how his arms would wrap around your thighs, muscles flexing to make sure you stay exactly where he wants you to, and that’s on his tongue. Moans fill the room as he slowly eats you out, long licks up your folds to harsh sucks on your clit. The vibrations from his groans sending you spiralling to the edge, only for him to back off when you’re so close, leaving you sobbing and trembling with need. He’d leave little nibbles and bites along your inner thighs as he waits for the trembling to stop, and his beard, fuck. Rex would nuzzle the side of his face along your legs, leaving more marks that you were his. Letting you know that he was the only one that could give you the satisfaction you craved. You’d squirm, just to feel him tighten his hold, knowing that he controlled your pleasure. 

“Look at me,” he’d growl before licking up your slit, drinking you down, “want you to keep your eyes on me when you cum on my tongue.” This sends another rush of slick from your core, the feeling in your belly coiled tight, waiting to snap. You yelp as there’s a sharp bite to your thigh.

“You like it when I tell you to watch” Rex grins from between your thighs, and you can see the evidence of your arousal glistening on his beard. Stars that is hot. There is a feral look in his golden eyes “Next time I’ll make sure to fuck you in front of a mirror, show you how wet you get for me.”

Your needy whine of approval turns into a lascivious moan as Rex plunges his tongue into your heat, rapidly bringing your orgasm back to the edge, but this time he doesn’t stop. His tongue speeds up, alternating between fluttering around your opening and pushing in as far as he can, nose pressed into your clit. All too soon you’re flying over the edge into sweet oblivion.

With a choked scream you cum, legs clamped tight around Rex’s head, his arms pulling you closer as his tongue working furiously to collect everything that you give him. He groans in delight and that sets off another small orgasm which has you seeing white. When you finally come down from your high you look back down at Rex, a blissed out expression on your face. 

Rex has to practically lift you off him, moving you down so that you’re straddling his waist and conveniently nestling his cock between your folds, and that’s another part of him you’re all too eager to get to know. 

As you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, Rex puts a hand around the back of your neck, pulling your closer. You don’t need to be force sensitive to feel how smug he is, it’s written all over his face and the possessive arm draped around your waist. 

He nuzzles your nose when you’re close enough, before whispering two devastating words “Good girl.”

A blaring sound yanks you out of your daydream, and you realize that you’ve stopped shooting at the targets. The noise is the warning alarm that the simulation will shut off after 30 more seconds of inactivity. What it is is an inconvenience. You slam the pause button a little more forcefully than you need to, too riled up from your own fantasy simulation. It seems to have worked a little too well, judging by ache between your legs. 

Putting the safety back on your blaster, you drop it onto the shelf in front of the booth opening. Thinking back, there was something in Rex’s eyes as he called you “good girl”  that you can’t quite put your finger on. Discovering that you enjoyed being praised was one thing, but it seemed that Rex was holding something back, something that had to do with that phrase. Not knowing what it was set you on edge, that it could be something about you and that feeling didn’t sit well. 

There was just something about him that makes you crave his attention, wanting to please him so he’d call you “good girl” again. You shiver as you think about how he looked between your thighs, how wide you had to stretch to fit him between you legs. 

You groan to yourself, knowing you’re well and truly gone on this man, and that you’d let him do whatever he wanted, just as long as you could be his good girl. You lean forward against the small shelf, burying your head in your arms.

“Fuuuuck me.” 

“Am I interrupting something, mesh’la?”

To be continued

#Captain Rex #Rex #Oldman Rex #Rex x reader #Rebel Rex x reader #First fic #Yay me #Cue internal panic #Started from a blurb now we're here #Inspired by art #I need a Rex in my life

[anna-justice]

like i’m gonna lose you

summary: my take on the fall out of 8x16.

read on a03 

...

“Get your hands off of me” 

Hailey stirred in her chair, her grip on Jay’s hand tightening a bit. They couldn’t bring themselves to care about appearances as they sat in the waiting room of MED, anxiously awaiting news on Kim. Hailey had dozed off on Jay’s shoulder pretty quickly, not that he minded. He was sure she had had a rough few hours, despite her vague responses. 

“You knew exactly what to expect when you came here.” 

There was a soft moan from beside him and Jay looked down to find his girlfriend’s eyebrows laced together. Her knee shook slightly, grabbing his attention. “Hailey?” He whispered, earning no response. 

“This is what it feels like.”

Hailey flinched hard in her sleep, her bottom lip beginning to quiver, Jay’s heart dropped into his stomach. She was having a nightmare. He shifted slightly, bringing his free hand to her hair and tightening his grip on her hand. “I’m here Hailes, come back to me.” He said softly in her ear as he ran his fingers through her hair. 

The movement startled her, causing her to flinch again. “I saw.” She muttered - still asleep - a stray tear falling down her cheek, “I saw-” Before Jay could react, she shot up, grabbing the attention of too many people around her. 

Jay’s hand immediately found her shoulder, “Hey, you’re good. It was just a dream, you’re safe.” He took note of the half nod she gave him, the fake smile, the way her blue eyes were clouded with tears. Hailey looked down at their intertwined hands, pulling hers close to her body. “Hailey?” He asked, a little hurt. 

She looked like she had seen a ghost, and honestly, she felt like she had. The only way to describe the feeling in the pit of her stomach was absolute terror: she was scared that Voight would walk through the sliding glass doors, she was scared of what she had become, she was scared of what Jay would think of her. She was absolutely terrified of the shell of a person he would leave behind when he finally came to his senses and walked away. “I-uh-I,” She stuttered, standing slowly, “I need some air.” She barely got the words out before running out of the building. 

Jay stood to follow her, he had always been good at giving her space, letting her handle things on her own first, but this was killing him. She was spiraling, he could see it. She had spotted it in him so many times before. He was sick of standing on the sidelines while she fought alone but she wouldn’t let him in, not this time. And as much as he wanted to be her husband, he knew the proposal was only a product of whatever the hell had happened, he just never got the chance to ask what that was. 

“I don’t want to be without you.” Hailey said, her sad eyes locked on his. He knew (or at least he thought he knew) what she was getting at. He remembered the way he felt when she was kidnapped, he remembers the panic that set in on her face when he was shot. 

Jay felt the tears forming in his own, squinting a bit. It almost wrecked him to see her like this, so scared of losing what they had. He understood, he felt the exact same way, but it was different. He knew that no one else had ever stayed for her, no one else every cared, and he was determined to be the one that did. “You’re not gonna be.” He said, because how the was he supposed to say everything that he tried to push into those 4 little words? How could he make her believe that she was it for him? 

Hailey searched his face for any sign of regret or inconsistency, but she found none. Somehow though, she still wasn’t one hundred perfect sure. She couldn’t bear to lose him, she wouldn’t survive it. How could she ever feel secure when she had so much to lose? The second the thought crossed her mind, the words tumbled from between her lips, shocking her as much as him. “Maybe we should get married.” 

Jay looked at her blankly, obviously in shock. She could see it all over his face, he couldn’t believe what she was saying, she couldn’t either. “I’m serious, let’s get married.” 

In a split second, Jay saw it all. The life they would have: the white wedding, the lazy saturdays, the holidays, the kids, the house, the dog, the years they would spend growing old together, the family trips to the cabin. He saw it all, and it was in reach. He never believed that he would could have any of it, but with Hailey, he wanted everything. He would marry her tomorrow, but not like this. Not when the love of his life was standing in front of him so broken down that the only way she thought she could keep him was through a meaningless certificate. 

Hailey watched his smile fade, causing the panic to set in. “Jay, we can elope. We don’t have to wait. We can fly to Mexico or Hawaii or anywhere. Hell let’s do it here, I just want to be with you-”

“Hailey, breathe.” He said delicately, placing his hand on her cheek to keep her grounded. He leaned in, kissing her gently before pulling away to look her in the eyes, which were focused on anything but his. “Look at me, please.” She did - reluctantly - taking a deep breath when she realized his soft smile had reappeared. “I love you. And I will love you for the rest of my life. Nothing is going to change that. All I want to do is be with you, please believe me.” 

Hailey shook her head, tears beginning to fall. “I love you so much-” 

“Baby, tell me what’s going on. I want to help. Let me help you.” He was practically begging her.

She shook her head again, “Jay,” She gasped, “I can’t. Not until you say yes. I need you-” 

Suddenly, his phone began to ring. If it was any other day, he would ignore it, but today was not any other day. “It’s Kev.” 

Jay talked quietly on the phone for a minute or two. Hailey took the time to compose herself, to prepare for the worst: the end of her relationship. By the time Jay turned back around the light in her eyes was gone and there was a fake smile on her face, one that only he could see through. “Is she okay?” Hailey asked.

“Uh yeah, he just wants us to come so that he can go switch with Adam.” Hailey nodded, grabbing her phone off the table along with her keys. He cautiously followed her to the door. “We’re gonna be okay Hailes, no matter what.” He said, knowing full and well that this conversation was far from over. 

Hailey nodded, “I know.” The left the apartment, and Hailey did her best to ignore the feeling of dread deep in her chest, but it was inescapable. No one could walk away clean from she had done, not her, not even Voight. 

Hailey leaned against the wall outside of MED, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was racing and her eyes were burning, she clenched them shut to dull the ache, but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was a gun pointed in her face. 

“Just because your stomach can’t handle it.” 

Hailey gagged, doubling over and leaning against the concrete wall. 

“Cause you’re scared.” 

She emptied the content of her stomach into the grass, choking and coughing violently as tears continued to stream down her face. Her vision clouded again, images of Voight’s face splattered with blood as he approached her running through her head. It felt so familiar. 

Maybe it was her father’s reappearance in her life, but she felt like she was a child again. Hiding behind the couch or in her room, him screaming at her and her brothers as they ran scared. Her past was taunting her, like it was trying to prove to her that she would never be rid of it. That history would always repeat itself. 

Jay followed her, watching from the doorway as she threw up. He rushed to her, “Hailey-” His hand touched her shoulder and she gasped, pulling away quickly and facing him, her arms shielding her face. Jay took a step back, caught off guard by the terror clearly shown on her face. She was frozen, panting hard.

“I-I’m sorry-I,” She said softly, slowly bringing her hands down to her sides. Jay watched as her gaze fell to the ground, his heart dropping into his stomach. He took a cautious step forward. “I’m not, I’m not afraid of you, I-” 

Jay’s expression softened, “I know, I know. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He was hurt, sure, but this wasn’t about him. It was so much bigger than him. 

Hailey wasn’t sure what emotion was more overwhelming: the fear, the guilt or the physical pain she felt in her chest. He looked so defeated, and it was her fault. He thought she was afraid of him. 

He took another step forward, “Can I?” He motioned to his outstretched hand, holding it out to her. Hailey nodded, slipping her hand into his. He slowly pulled her into to him, her arms snaking around his waist and her cheek pressed against his chest. She took a deep breath, instantly calming her. “Hailey?” She hummed in response. “Can you please tell me what happened? You’re starting to scare me.” 

Hailey took a step back, looking him straight in the eye, memorizing the way they were looking at her, in case it was the last time they ever showed that much love. She nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him to a bench further away from the hospital. This was the last place she wanted to tell him, but he obviously couldn’t wait any longer, he shouldn’t have to. She couldn’t be selfish with him. 

They sat down, facing each other. Hailey let her hand fall out of his, folding hers in her lap. “Voight did find a lead.” She said, shrugging. “Ruzek and I didn’t know, he gave us the legit addresses. Adam, he um, he kind of lost it so I told him to go be with Mackayla, and he did. So, I went to find Voight.” 

Jay’s eyebrows were cinched together, listening intently. “He was at some warehouse, he had Roy. I walked in and he, uh he, he pulled his gun on me.” Jay’s jaw clenched, but he kept his cool (barely), letting her continue. “He was beating information out of Roy, then you radioed that you found Kim, but-but he was going to kill him anyway. We fought.” Hailey took a breath, but continued to ramble, “I convinced him to bring him in. I wanted to do it the right way, we were going to do it the right way, like you. I wanted to do it right, like you, Jay. But then, then-then he reached for Voight’s gun and, Jay I swear he was going to shoot Voight, so I-” Hailey choked out a sob, unable to look her partner in the eye. 

Jay slid his hands in Hailey’s lap, wrapping them around hers. Hailey’s head shot up, shock written all over it, “So you shot him, to protect your Sargeant.” Jay finished for her. She risked her career to protect him even though Voight had no care for hers.

Hailey shuddered, “I promise, I tried. I told him to drop the weapon. I saw him, he had the gun in his hand. I wanted to do it right.” 

“Shhh,” Jay said, pulling her to him. “It was a good shoot Hailes, you did it right.” He held her as her tears soaked his shirt, running a hand through her hair. He was trying to soothe her, but he was seething. He couldn’t believe Voight had put her in that situation. Voight had been on the job a long time, he knew better than to come into close contact with a violent offender with an exposed weapon. 

Once he wrapped his brain around his anger, it hit him. 

“No Jay, not until you say yes.”

Hailey was scared that he would blame her, or leave her over this. He held her a little tighter, his own tears gathering in his eyes as he held her. “I love you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

That grabbed Hailey’s attention. She peered up at him, her blue eyes filled with tears and hope. “Really?” She asked quietly, her voice breaking. 

Jay nodded, not trusting his own voice. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Hailey’s eyes fluttered closed, this time, no flashbacks plaguing her mind. His hand settled on her cheek, brushing his thumb over her cheek. Jay pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “Really,” He whispered 

There was a cough beside them, and Jay looked up first. Hank Voight was standing before them. “How’s she doing?” He asked. 

Hailey stared at him in shock. He looked like he always did. He was no longer wearing his tactical gear and his face was no longer splattered with blood. He was Voight, like nothing had happened. For a split second Hailey envied him, his ability to walk away unscathed, like it was any other Wednesday night and the only thing wrong was Kim’s life was hanging in the balance. Then she looked at Jay, whose jaw was clenched and his eyes were stuck on sergeant. He was just as strong, maybe even stronger, and he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. If he could do it, so could she. 

Jay stood, looking like a force to be reckoned with. “You need to leave.” 

Voight scoffed, quickly glancing at Hailey, “Excuse me.” 

“You heard me Sarge, leave. Now.” Jay said. His voice staying low, but intimidating nonetheless. 

“I have a right to be here Jay, to see Burgess,” Voight said, his words becoming louder as he took a step forward. 

“Then go, be the leader you’re supposed to be, but don’t you dare go near her.” Hailey’s breath caught in the back of her throat, her heart swelling at the sight in front of her. Voight glared at Jay, nodding shortly. Jay took another step forward, so that their faces were level, “And if she is brought into this, in any way, I will bury you.” He never raised his voice, or made any move to physically escalate the situation. The last thig he wanted to do was scare Hailey more than she already was. 

“Understood,” Voight said, with a trace of venom that could have been deadly. 

They parted ways, Voight entering the hospital doors and jay turning to face his girlfriend, who had been silent. “Are you okay?” He asked. 

Hailey nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay.” She met his concerned gaze. “Thank you.” 

Jay gave her a soft smile, “Of course.” She glanced between him and the hospital doors, a nervous look on her face. Jay held out his hand, which she gladly took. “Come on, we can come back in the morning.” 

Hailey sighed in relief, standing. He guided them down the sidewalk, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Let’s go home Hailes.” 

“Hold on.” Hailey said, her anxiety getting the best of her again. She turned to face him, their eyes locking. She felt tears gather in eyes once again at the look in his, the one she had memorized, that she had prayed would never disappear. She smiled as he eyed her. “Ok, I’m good.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him in the direction of his truck. “Let’s go home.” 

…

A/N: I couldn’t help myself, I had to haha. I can’t believe the premieres are only a month away! Thanks for reading <3

#jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead #upstead one shot #8x16 #chiacgo pd #one chicago #hank voight