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gucciwins · 3 days

Text

harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned

word count: 5896

a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜

Y/N was nervous.

She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment.

Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through.

As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop.

“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke.

It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area.

“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.”

“I said it’s okay.”

Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.”

It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough.

Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.

“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”

“Course. Guard it with my life.”

Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop.

“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head.

The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day.

Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time.

“Excuse me, sir?”

He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?”

“How do I know you?”

The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him.

“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”

Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”

The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.”

That’s odd, Y/N thought.

“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time.

“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.”

Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t.

“Can I walk you out?” He asks.

She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move.

“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit.

“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters.

Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact.

Harry S.

It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say.

Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?”

Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.”

“Oh.”

Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number.

“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.

“Hopefully for us to plan a date.”

“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened.

“I’d like to see where it could go.”

“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”

Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?”

“Sounds perfect,” she promised him.

“Good. Thursday it is.”

Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life.

Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.

Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him.

“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.

Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed.

Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong.

Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N.

“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N.

In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.”

Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.”

“Anne,” Y/N repeated.

“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie.

Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined.

Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.

Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.

“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story.

Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.”

“Your face didn’t change.”

Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.”

Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.”

Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”

“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.

Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.”

“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.”

Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem.

“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.

Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister.

Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home.

“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.

Harry sighs, “never been happier.”

Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.”

Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.”

She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”

Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”

“It’s clear she’s after something.”

He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”

“Your money.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled.

“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.”

“How would you know?”

“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.”

“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”

“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”

Harry’s anger is overwhelming him.

“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.

“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs.

He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.”

Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset.

“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.”

Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”

Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.

She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed.

Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.”

“It’s only my sister,” he defends.

“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.”

Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”

“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.”

“It is when she needs a wack to her head.”

“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”

Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”

Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her.

Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.

“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”

“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out.

He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful.

Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But Gemma–”

He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”

Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset.

“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”

Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.

“I love you, Harry.”

He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.”

Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.

The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect.

There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word.

“My daughter owes you an apology.”

“Anne–”

She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.”

Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.”

Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside.

Harry greeted her with a kiss.

Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it.

Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle.

Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug.

“Hi,” Y/N greeted.

“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked.

Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.”

“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.

“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.”

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words.

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her.

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.”

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready.

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.”

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.”

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully.

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.”

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.”

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

“Morning, pretty girl.”

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.”

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her.

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.”

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready.

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully.

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.”

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.”

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

“Morning, pretty girl.”

“Hi, Harry. I love you.”

Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.”

“And did it?”

“Mmm…like magic.”

“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions.

“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.”

Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“But she’s your–”

“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”

Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, my love. So much more.”

Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.

thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 3 days

Note

Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.

hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖

A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader

[6:00]

Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.

Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.

“Where you... going...”

Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.

Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.

“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.

“Stay... please...”

“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”

“You feel better than blåhaj...”

“...”

It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.

Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.

Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.

Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...

The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.

[12:00]

“Can we eat fries for lunch?”

you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.

“No”

“WHYYYY!”

“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.

okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.

just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.

“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.

What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.

“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.

“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.

“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.

Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.

[18:00]

You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.

“Mushroom”

“Mango”

“Oreo”

“Orange”

“Egg”

“g...”

“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”

“Fucking hell...”

Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.

[23:00]

“Time to sleep.”

“but I want to watch this movie.”

“You can watch it tomorrow.”

“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”

“...Fine.”

(00:00)

Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.

He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.

He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.

He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.

“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.

a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fluff

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netherfeildren · 2 days

Text

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.

He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; Jackson Joel Miller; Dom/sub undertones; Rough Sex; Impact Play; Face Slapping; Spanking; PIV sex; Ass Play; Oral Sex (m!receiving); Come Eating; Throat Fucking; Unprotected Sex; Potentially Toxic Dynamics? (haha?); Complicated Feelings; They Love Each Other in Their Own Weird Way, Ok?; Older Man/Younger Woman; Idk What This Is, I Don't Expect You to Either;

A/N: miss you guys, sorry for the disappearing act <3

Word Count: 3.1K

Read on AO3

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Sunlight spills over everything, and the pastoral green leads you to him.

One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.

But there’s an incongruity afoot here that only you appreciate.

The secret lies in that there’s a riddle woven through the three miles you pilgrim to see him weekly. The first, a boon, the green lush wasteland, if a thing that’s alive can be wasted. The second, an honesty, I’ll venture this distance for him. The third, a precursor, when your muscles start to tingle, your thighs, hot and itchy, nape, coated in a taste of salt. Your feet crunch along the gravel and dirt, protected by the soft leathered boots inherited from Lucy who’d died last Monday. A good start to the week, with new boots, and a thoughtful gift she’d left you, your friend, when your own shoes were so worn from all the walking you do for him. The end of the world changes death, finds good things within it.

The sun warms the bridge of your nose, and you tip your face up to the too-bright light, trying your hardest to look straight at the intensity of it. He’s very much like this too. Why would you look directly at the sun if not for the hurting it brings? Your palms splayed forward at your sides, the breeze moving through your fingers, and the world is all around you alive in this apocalypse.

Jackson is left further and further behind as you move towards him, and what no one understands, not even Joel Miller himself, is that there is something virtuous about this affair.

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now,” he says down at you, bare as the day you were born and kneeling before his clothed and towering height. Nothing but the heavy hanging length of his cock is naked for you, the first you’d ever seen in your whole life. If he had his way, the only one you’d ever see for the rest of it. The wide head is slick and glossy, the way it bobs obscenely from his open jeans looking like the weight of it would hurt, the way it juts from the bed of hair at this groin like a threat to you.

You know now, after all his focused training, that it only hurts him when you don’t tend to it as he needs, that it’s only a threat when you fail to do the same. He’s shown you the rules of hurting, in all these months you’ve come your three promised miles to him time after time. Shown you how it comes easy, that of hurting someone you love. A running in place sort of thing. You know all the steps that will come, the exact spot you’ll tread in. The way to propel yourself forward to finally leave that same place, avoid it, if you want.

“Open wider. Won’t fit like that,” he clicks his tongue, voice a burr as he grips his throbbing flesh and with the other too big hand, also like a seeming threat, but not, he gives you a quick, softly stinging slap to the high of your cheekbone. The sound, fast and snapping like his disapproving tongue. You swallow a moan, looking up at him with that look in your eyes you know disturbs him, adoration, letting the hinges of your jaw go loose, saliva pooling beneath the cover of your tongue. “Don’t you want me?” He asks.

And you blink once, moan crossing the bridge to a laugh if your mouth wasn’t stretched wide as it’ll go. He sees it though, skipping water in your eyes and gives that half smile, the mean one, the one that says he has all the answers in the world, knows all the things there are to know, that one you like best. Good girl, and his voice makes no sound, only the shape of the words on his mouth. You haven’t been good enough yet to hear the real thing of them out loud. This tells you that you must apply yourself to the task at hand, making him come.

One heavy tap to the flat of your tongue sticking out for him first, and then he’s slicking that fat head against the surface, giving you the first real taste, salt and musk trickle down the back of your throat and you moan again, eyes screwing shut tight, cunt aching something fierce. Leaking just like the tip of his cock leaks too.

That’s the thing about this thing, the one you see very well and Joel still fails to. The two of you, as disparate as you might seem, are the same in all the basic but most important ways. Too much in common for him to look at in the eye comfortably and still do the things you do.

“Open your throat. Get me hard.” In your head, he calls you baby. In reality, only sometimes, when you’re extra good, does that happen. But in your imagination, where it matters more, he doesn't ask nice, but you are his baby.

He slides back, back, hits the end of your throat, pulls out against the wet heat of your tongue. You keep your jaw wide until you feel him harden entirely, until he stretches his neck back, tendons jumping stark, clench of his jaw fluttering with a choked groan. “Suck me,” your permission to savor him like you need to.

Hands pressed firmly to your bare knees, not digging at your soft wet like you’d like, or pawing at him as you’d like even more, you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowed and suck hard, tonguing at his slit on the pull back so that he’s bearing his teeth at you in a growl and shoving forward again hard, a snarl as the cinch of your tight throat strangles the head of his cock on every one of your swallows. Your eyes water, but he pets softly at the same spot he’d stung earlier with his slap.

A game you used to play with your siblings, who could slap one another harder until the other gave out. It’d taken a while for you to come to the realization, but eventually, you’d realized the memory of it in your mind as it exists now wasn’t innocent the way it should’ve been. That there had been something you’d liked about it in a strange way—that hurting. That the first time you’d asked Joel to play the same game with you, you’d wanted him to slap you other places just as hard until you gave out also.

The games were part of the thing. His own strange rules, like the way you couldn’t touch him sometimes—you dig your bitten down nails into the soft skin of your inner thighs—only when he said it was okay was it allowed. The way you were never allowed to touch your cunt unless he said so also. He had weird things about him, turned strange by the dangerous ways of life. Like the solitude, the house out and away, the begging you had to do for him to have you.

Sameness.

He wraps his fist in your hair, more sting, “Gonna fill your belly with my come, yeah?” His thrusts pick up pace, pulling your head back as far as your neck allows so that he can fuck your throat in full, jaw hanging wide, and you’re just the wet and willing hole you know he sometimes wishes you could always stay as.

The thick cock against your tongue throbs once, twice and then he’s spilling hot and heavy down your open throat, sweet salt against the back of your tongue while you try and breathe through his strangling, tears spilling.

When he pulls back, slipping wet and heavy from your mouth you fall forward onto your palms, breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, stinging with the forced will to remain obedient. Your spine burns beneath your skin and your sore jaw hangs unwillingly open, sloppy mouth dripping a string of semen between your splayed palms.

He crouches before you, dripping cock like your mouth, milked to heavy softness hangs long and sated between his thighs. And he pets your crown, the vulnerable shell of your ear, whole body on fire so that every inch of skin hurts without his touch, hurts worse with it.

“Good girl,” he says now with voice.

The walk seems longer some days. A thousand miles plus an eon instead of merely three. Especially on the days you’re more desperate than usual. The ones when your stomach feels full of sugar for him and the memory taste of his cock is already aching in your molars. Those days your steps are hurried, look in your eyes frenzied to get to him, to escape the things you leave behind. A too full house, your sister’s squalling, teething baby, your little brothers, and too many mouths to feed and not attention to be had, not enough mother for everyone to get loved.

There’s reasons for this game between the two of you, you’d had to come out and find your attention somewhere else.

Your love too.

And if it comes with a sting sometimes, well, so had your mother’s. You like it like this now.

The first time he’d touched your cunt: show me that pretty pussy, baby, and he’d had you from that very first sweet word, you gonna let me finger it? You’d spread wide, leaked into the cup of his palm like a whore, you’d needed to make sure he was for keeping from the first try, you see. So you’d done all he’d said, taken four fingers and only cried a little bit but whined a lot. Been all, hurts, Joel, high pitched and dragging his name out on a puppy whimper.

He’d given you that first lesson in hurt the very first time: Yeah? Supposed to. A real mean man. And then made you gush into that very cupped palm so that he could drink of your sweetness.

The third mile comes to an end, the precursor, over, his house in view. It’s all quiet and slumbering and the long grass pulls you forward with its wind blown sway. The wide door to his shed is propped open, half finished rocking chair up on the workbench that sways with the intruding gust. The grass whispers behind you, the dark woods across the field moan, and he’s nowhere while the Tetons loom in the distance.

You drag your fingers along the slats of his house as you pass, everything is so quiet, like he’d never been here. Like he’d gone and left you the way he’s promised he’d never do. Your belly feels bloated with heat, heart turned into four incongruous chambers that no longer beat in tune, memories of him rioting between each thump. Your cunt goes soft and drooling in your panties as your fear beats higher and higher, and you come to the mouth of the shed, peering into the cool darkness of this little place where he makes his beautiful things. The things that go into people’s homes to be used by people’s families to be stored in people’s memories.

The gleam of the sun does not cross the threshold, and you brace your palms on either side of the wide door, the air thrums and he’s not here—yet—you slide the toe of Lucy’s old boot across the border of sunlight into sanctuary and peek your closed-eyed face into the shade right before you’re taken bodily to the ground by his heavy weight. Palms catching splinters, his strong chest heaves into the line of your spine, strong arm at your waist to pull your breath from your lungs and your legs from under you.

He forces you belly first to the ground, other hand circling your throat in the imitation of a strangle lest you lose yourself and decide to struggle for the first time ever. But you dig your fingernails into the dirt, scratching for purchase in preparation of what’s about to come, all the fight going out of you; body, half in shadow, half in sunlight. Your bones feel salt bleached. An over abundance of sodium in the blood that renders you catatonic for him.

He nuzzles soft at your nape while his hand shoves under your dress, ripping your underwear down your legs so that the elastic cuts into your tender skin to hurt. All incongruous movement, this man is.

“Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to go creepin’ ‘round strange men’s homes?” His voice is so deep, drawled, broken up into different notes of lust and anger and temerity. All the strange things that make Joel Miller up.

Yeah, you sigh into the dirt. “Told me exactly how it’d go for me if I did.”

You hitch your rump up then, presenting your cunt for fucking. The breeze doesn’t do half to soothe the throbbing wet. The sort of ache that’ll only be fixed by something heavy inside the hurting place. The sound of his belt quiets the disparate chambers, the beat in your ears of rushing blood is uniform now, there’ll be a wet spot in the shape of you in the dirt when he’s through. You lift your hips higher, knees scraped rough as you spread wider, face pressed to the ground and your fingers are well and burrowed in their little gouges now.

He smacks the heft of it against you asshole, spits and presses a little. He likes to scare you sometimes. Nooo, Joel, all whining stutter, but with your back arching deeper like a little babied liar; you don’t mind where he puts it, only that he puts it somewhere.

“Hush,” he soothes all nice, spanks your ass once all not— “Gonna teach you a lesson.” And shoves inside, bumping against your womb on the first try, stretching your hole too wide, too quick. And there’s no prep, no qualm. No need to hesitate when you own a thing. You swallow your animal cry, ah ah ah, you want to hear how good you’ve been out loud. He grips your hips tight enough to bruise which is what you know he wants and fucks hard and fast, each swing whistles with ownership.

He fucks you in the dirt like an animal, and this affair is virtuous.

He teaches you the truth about hurting, about ownership, about so many things that only a man like Joel Miller could teach a girl like you. And all the while he tells you that you’re too pretty to take such an ugly fucking.

The way he works your cunt, hungry, balls swinging wet so that they sting like his slaps, tip battering hard so that it aches like gratitude.

These are the things three miles give you. A whole man to teach you about the whole world.

The slick squelch of your overwhelmed cunt sounds loud, no more disparate heartbeat, no more green grassed whispers. Only the sound of his grunting above you like an animal remains. “You’re the perfect little cunt. You know that, baby?” There it is, you sigh. Start to tremble around him like that, like his good baby that you are, desperate flutters, little gash being fucked into obedience like you need. Your overwhelmed pants make little dirt dream clouds before your eyes as you start to come for him, crying his name, crying your love, crying that you’re so, so thankful.

“Don’t stop, Joel. Not yet.” And he loves it when you beg, loves it when your cunt pulls tight like a knot.

“Not yet,” he promises because he might be a real mean man, but he loves you like separating salt from blood.

Complicated and precise.

When he’s through with you, there’s sunlight spilling over everything again. It’s journey goes on and on, and his semen drips from your cunt now. He turns gentle, thrusting still, making sure it’s fucked deep, pulsing in time with your own throb. Rhythms merge between the two of you.

His rules are strange, his claims over you equally mysterious. He won’t say things out loud, won’t let you touch any real part of him, but his strange truths ring loud anyways, and when your heart isn’t disjointed, you hear him perfectly well.

When he lays you out bare and trembling across his messy bed, the groaned pains of his age and rutting in the dirt like an animal sound from him as he drapes himself alongside you. Large and hairy, feet hanging off the end of the bed, entirely real with one knee propped up so that his thick cock lays heavy and soft over the swell of his belly. Your heart beats soft and overfull now.

You watch the sun set across the planes of his chest and bask in the blue dark as the night draws breath around you. The work of meting out obedience to little girls who come searching for it is toiling, and you watch him melt into sleep, but right before he’s just gone away from you, with a single finger petting at the jut of the old broken bone in his shoulder, your whispered plea: Will you give me a falseness? You don’t call it a lie. This is a virtuous thing, after all.

Lies aren’t allowed in this house.

He breathes a deep sigh, and you watch the fan of his long lashes sweep open, staring up at the shadowed rafters of his home. You swear you can see each and every individual whisker in his thick beard, dark and gray dispersed throughout. You see every single detail.

He’d told you once there were ghosts here, in this house, and you’d learned later it wasn’t a lie. This became more and more obvious the more you got to know him.

He stares up at them now.

When he’d taken your virginity, when it’d left you the way you’d always imagined it would, covered in tears and blood and semen, you’d made that promise to each other. That you wouldn't lie, that he’d have all of you, that you’d not touch all of him. The ghost lay beside you in the damp bed of your lost innocence that day. It’d been just so ever since and over many miles of three you’d come to appreciate the realities of it. Who could be more connected than two people who always tell each other their truths exactly as they are?

“Give me a falseness,” you say again, not a lie.

“A good kind of a bad kind?”

You flip a mind’s coin, wish you could see the exact ghosts he sees— “Bad.”

He turns to look at you, this half smile he wears is your second favorite one now, the honest one, and it’s all there for you to see. All the disparate chambers of Joel, just like your heart beating in your ears. You suppose the ghosts don’t matter then.

“I don’t love you.”

And you nod solemn. Bad, like a whisper, like your game.

You smile back, the one you know he likes best, the one that looks like his.

Netherfeildren’s Masterlist

Updates Blog

#vic fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #Joel Miller smut #joel miller #the last of us AU

323 notes · View notes

harmoonix · 3 hours

Text

HYPNOSIS

Astrology Observations

I'll be seaside

Sitting on the sand drinking a mai tai

Waking up and soaking up the sunlight

──────────────────────────────

💙 - Neptune in the 1H/9H/12H native is like the Universe's kid, very spiritual, very empathic, very emotional, understanding the space and the outer space nature

💙 - Sun in the 8th/9th/12th house natives literally are a balance between spirituality and empathy, you have to be there at the right moment to feel it

💙 - Libra in your big 3 (Sun, Rising, Moon) can make others charmed by you, also you give a big impression to people when they first meet you

💙 - Scorpio in your big 3 (Sun, Rising, Moon) are intense placements, they love playing with the fire and fire loves "playing" with them

💙 - Venus conjunct/sextile/trine Moon will make you so peaceful/calm. People around you love this energy and you give harmonious vibes

💙 - Ascendant aspecting Uranus (all aspects) are very aware of the things happening around them. Is like they always have the 3rd eye open

💙 - Neptune aspecting your Sun will make you shine so bright that you can get hate for being in this "light", you stand out, but haters gonna hate

💙 - Aries & Capricorn Moons are both so defensive of their loved ones and i admire that so much about them they wanna this energy of "Don't mess with me"

💙 - Neptune aspecting the ascendant has beautiful eyes, there is a saying like "The eyes are the mirror of the soul". people fall in love with your eyes before anything

──────────────────────────────

I'll be seaside

Watching all the seagulls flying so high

Looking at our future looking so bright, so bright

──────────────────────────────

💙 - Pluto aspecting Midheaven have so much power in their lives that other people have the feeling to control them for that. Take care of yourself and your energy

💙 - Uranus in your 3rd house will make your voice to stand out, your voice is very powerful in this placement and I also mean the way you communicate and tell words

💙 - Jupiter in your 6H/10H. Jupiter is blessing the native with a good personalty and good job/also a lot of influence and devotion to the world

💙 - Having a Water Moon is the 1# biggest sign that you should be a spiritual person, because Water Moons are psychic

💙 - Mars in Sagittarius/9H can be very revengeful, you did something bad to them, they'll return the same thing to you

💙 - Mars in Cancer/4H can act the same, but the thing with them is that, they will know your weakness/sensible point

💙 - Capricorn & Libra combo placements in a chart indicate a lot of diplomacy/politeness, very elegant and charismatic too

💙 - Jupiter in your 5H/11H can fullfil your desires on a long term, if you truly want or wish something (good) to happen, try to manifest it

💙 - Lilith in your 6H/8H/10H/12H can act mischievous, you never know what they'll be thinking about or their plans

💙 - Mars square/conjunct/opposite Uranus will act messy when they're annoyed, Mars here is uncontrollable or just wild free

💙 - Scorpio Venus/Mars can meet potential "partners" who can take advantage of them which is not totally okay, make sure people appreciate for everything you have to offer

──────────────────────────────

I be busy, busy, nah

Busy doing nothing all day

Y bailando con toda mi gente, y

Veo que no me dejas de ver

──────────────────────────────

💙 - Saturn/Lilith or Pluto in the 11H can indicate lots of betrayals, can be romantically or friendly or even from family members

💙 - Earth Moons/Earth Sun gives "old soul" and what I mean with that is, they're experienced in life and they seem like they went through a lot

💙 - Mercury aspecting Pluto or Neptune can have people hiding things from them, secrets, dark "plans" and others, even gossip

💙 - Can someone tell me why a fire Venus will always make me think of a hot song you hear during summer that you cannot forget?? Adore them.

💙 - A Chart with fire as predominantly element will act too impulsively/stubborn sometimes even too "wild" at times

💙 - Lilith in Aries/Cancer/Sagittarius/Aquarius wants to break the norms and the things that are always seen as "toxic", they want to break free from everything that pains them

💙 - Lilith (h58) is the most dangerous Lilith in a chart so here are some observations about it

Lilith h58 aspecting Chiron can indicate unsealed traumas/bad experienced from your life

Lilith h58 aspecting Midheaven gives no fuck about nobody, they don't care what the world thinks about them "You have just one life, live it how you want"

Lilith h58 aspecting Venus will act toxic in love if they feel threatened by their partners energy

Lilith h58 aspecting the ascendant is very rebellious, very rude or mean at times, few know this "rude" energy can be just for protecting themselves

Lilith h58 aspecting Mercury will not be afraid to call people out when is needed, they may use a very dirty way of talking

Lilith h58 sitting empty in a chart like a black whole, absorbing energy of all forms,

💙 - Mars in the 7th house/Mars in Libra despite the drama about how Mars is chaotic in Libra, they tend to have romantic relationship and energetic spouses, + they're being so assertive in their relationships

💙 - Neptune/Pluto or Saturn in your 6th house can drain your energy fast, that's why is good to take a break after you did some work so you don't end up exhausted

─────────────────────────────

Mientras la música suene

Aquí pegaditos al mar

No me pienso mover a otro lugar

──────────────────────────────

💙 - Venus aspecting Mars has a bold energy. What's attractive about them is that they can attract all types of people with this energy (from jealous people to really indifferent ones)

💙 - Mars aspecting Moon (in harsh aspects) get angry or frustrated fast, is not like they're about to explode instead they just feel like screaming out in a pillow

💙 - Midheaven aspecting Neptune or Jupiter can work in environments where spirituality can be used a lot, like a spiritual guide

💙 - Having Moon in your 9th house, beside having a good love life, this aspect can indicate a lot of creativity and knowledge. Also a love for exploring the *unknown*

💙 - Jupiter aspecting Lilith h12 (harsh aspects) since Jupiter will expand even in harsh aspects, their sexual energy can just grow and grow until it hits some the point of hypersexuality

💙 - Saturn in the 1st house natives have the chance to reflect on themselves after every fail, always overcome your fears and mistakes

💙 - Lilith in Capricorn/10th house is the native who seeks for recognition and success, these placements also indicate a stubborn person with a traditional ethic

💙 - Mars in Taurus/Mars in the 2nd house has an intense determinations to achieve anything they desire, this placement also indicates staying good with money or financially

💙 - Lilith in Leo/5TH or in Leo Degrees 5°, 17°, 29° have a big pride, this placement can also he know for their perseverance and sharp mind

💙 - Moon/Venus/Rising/Juno in Sagittarius gives "you're always be my ritual" thanks to Sagittarius's ties with the 9th house who can indicate rituals

💙 - Sun in the 7th/Leo in the 7th house/Sun at 5°, 17°, 29° degrees can put their partners on the 1st place in a relationship, but also your partner mirrors you with a strong vitality

💙 - Neptune in the 4H is actually a dark placement if we go in the depth of themes of Neptune because after all, Neptune represents addiction, natives with Neptune in the 4H can go into addictions from a young age or from childhood for example like smoking, alcohol, bad influences

💙 - Neptune aspecting Venus/Neptune in the 7H always day dream about their partners or future partners. Even crushes.

💙 - Sun in the 9th/Jupiter in the 1H natives are very spiritual/religious deep down in their hearts, it can be a very dear topic for them

💙 - Virgo in your big 3 (Sun, Moon or Rising) will make you to be devoted no matter what, your humanitarian nature makes you such a kind person!

💙 - Cancer/Pisces and Leo Mars can skip arguments, they don't like it and don't wanna fight, so most times they choose to just walk away

💙 - Mercury in the 1st/5th/11th houses will gift a person with good humour, if Mercury is in the 8H they can have a dark type of humour, dark jokes too

💙 - Neptune or Pisces rulling your 2H or 3H can give you a very addictive voice, Mercury - Neptune aspects too

💙 - When you have your Saturn Retrograde it feels like having a second parent/father. Like Saturn is tutoring you on your life path

──────────────────────────────

If you're looking for me

I'll be seaside

──────────────────────────────

💙 - Sun or Rising in Taurus Degrees 2°, 14°, 26° can make the native to be more "earthed" more down to earth, more calm

💙 - Lilith h12 in Pisces or in the 12th house can indicate ancestral wounds, which is a highly deep wound related to your ancestors idk why this placement reminds me about Mulan's ancestors fighting in the temple in the animated movie

💙 - Since no one mentions this, having your Jupiter in the 9H or in Sagittarius doesn't always mean you gonna meet your spouse in foreign lands but also in highschool or university, you can be highschool lovers for example or even highschool lovers in foreign lands as a combo of both, also either you or your partner will have a different ethnicity!! Jupiter at 9°. 21° degrees too

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I always give my 10/10 everytime there is an avatar thematic 💅🏼💅🏼💅🏼💅🏼, is the highest grossing movie for a reason after all 💅🏼

Hope you all have a good day for those to read my posts 🥰🥰

H a r m o o n i x

#astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #avatar #birth chart #astro notes #placements #astro community #astroseek #astroblog #astronotes #astro.com #astronote #ascendant #horoscope #venus #neytiri #seaside

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phoward89 · 1 day

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Masterlist

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, cussing, slight smut (clit rubbing), etc

Chapter 6:

Coryo blinked his eyes open as the harsh morning sunlight streamed thru your bedroom window. Unlike his windows back in his family's Capitol penthouse, yours didn't have curtains. He groaned, not wanting to wake up just yet.

Looking down, he smiles as he takes in the sight of you curled into him. Your head’s still resting on his chest, using it as a pillow, while your arms are slung around him; your legs are entwined with his too. To him you look so ethereal, like a beautiful angel, as you slept clinging to him.

The platinum blonde peacekeeper felt like the luckiest man alive with you snug in his arms. Despite the turn that last night took between you (him pushing you a little too hard for your first time) he felt like this was the perfect morning after. Just watching you peacefully sleep in his arms, the early morning sun radiating brightness on your skin, was enough to bring a lopsided smile to his face.

Lazily, he ghosted his long, calloused fingers over your bare back. He traced his fingertips with a barely there touch up and down your spine, just watching you and waiting for you to stir. And eventually, you did stir.

Feeling a featherlight touch on your spine, you shiver and open your eyes. Looking up at Coryo, you groggily smile, “G’morning.”

“Good morning, beautiful.” Coryo smiled, pressing a kiss against your lips.

You've never been given a good morning wakeup kiss before, so naturally you blushed and smiled sillily into the kiss. A kiss which deepened fairly quickly due to Coryo's hunger for you.

And the boy was hungry for you all the time. He had a desire for you, like a starving man has for a meal. You're the water to the platinum peacekeeper's unquenchable thirst. You're the only thing to satisfy the longing in Coryo's dark soul because you're the sunshine to his dark days.

“Coryo, we need to get up.” You sighed, trying to push your boyfriend away from you as he planted kisses up and down your jawline while rubbing your ass with one of his large hands.

Pulling his lips from your jaw and looking at you, he seriously asked, “Can you be quiet?”

“Why?” You counter, hoping he wasn't alluding to sleeping together, again, this morning.

“I'll let you be on top, go your own pace.” Coryo tells you as his hand, that was on your ass, stopped rubbing it and slid between your legs to tease your folds.

“Coryo, it's morning. We should get up.” You protested, breath hitching as his middle finger slid up and down your folds, only to stop and teasingly rub your clit.

“As long as we're quiet we shouldn't get caught. Plus, your brother was drinking an awful lot last night; bet he's still asleep.”

“Rein always drinks, that's nothing new.” You told your boyfriend, causing him to frown.

“So your brother's a drunk?” Coriolanus rhetorically asked. Shaking his head, heavily sighed, “I don't like that, baby. Dunks don't have a good hold on their senses; what if he hurts you when he's 3 sheets to the wind?”

“He won't-” you began, only for him to interrupt you with a firm, “But what if he does, Y/N? There's always a first time when it comes to being drunk.”

Coryo knows first hand how getting drunk can impair and impact your judgment and senses. Hell, he lost his virginity to some random girl in an alleyway behind a club because of a drunken bet with Festus Creed. He was drunk off his ass on posca that night. But it did earn him a bit of a reputation; began his secret life of being a fuckboy too…

But anyways…

“Why don't you let me inquire about a place for us. One in the nice part of the district, close to the barracks?” Coryo suggests with a smile. His hand, that's not between your legs teasing you, gently cups your cheek as he hums out an assuring, “Hmm?”

“I dunno, Coryo.” You shakily said, feeling yourself grow wetter from his fingers teasing your folds.

“How bout if I find a nice place we'll check it out? Hmm, my darling rose?” Coryo suggested, softly stroking your cheekbone with the rough pad of his thumb.

You curiously raised a brow, “But I thought that Peacekeepers can't marry or live with a woman?”

“Privates can't, but I won't be one for long because I'm going to pass my Officer's Exam; I'm going to be able to give you the life that you deserve.” Coriolanus replied with such conviction, that his word had to be solid and true. With a charming smile, he adds, “Plus, for time being, I can head out of our place early and get to base before wakeup call.”

“This is all so sudden, Coryo.” You honestly told him, since you did feel like everything was happening out of the blue. As if you blinked and your entire life just changed.

The platinum blonde in your bed didn't like hearing that. In fact, it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. It concerned him; made him afraid that you'd push him away. What if last night had anything to do with your thinking? Oh, Coriolanus knew that he had a lot of damage control to do when it came to you.

He couldn't lose you. Not now. So, he had to lay the charm on thick.

Removing his hand from between your thighs and using it to run soothing circles on your lower back, Coryo told you with an unnatural gentleness in his rough baritone, “Baby, are you leery of being serious with me because I got a bit carried away last night? And be honest with me, okay?”

“No.” You shook your head, causing Coriolanus let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

His eyes bore into yours, looking for an explanation to why you're hesitant on him finding the two of you a place. You knew you needed to give him an answer to why you're hesitant about it, but you're not sure if your explanation would make sense to him. So, you worry your lip and try to find the right words to say.

Using his thumb to pull your bottom lip free from your teeth, he lightly scolded, “Don't bite your lip, baby.” Soothingly rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, Coryo implored, “Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it.”

He was secretly hoping that you're being honest about not being freaked out bout last night's rough fucking. He still thinks he has a lot of charm and damage control to lay on you for that.

“It's just…” You sigh, only to carry on with your explanation of, “One day we’re friends, the next I'm your girl, and now you're talking ‘bout getting our own place.” Shaking your head, you admit the truth of your situation. “It just seems fast, you know, since it's all happening within like a week of meeting.”

And there it is. You're afraid of how this looks. Probably because you're a poor district girl and he's a peacekeeper. Coriolanus isn't dumb, he knows that district citizens hate peacekeepers; look down on relationships between district girls and peacekeepers.

“But we've got love at first sight on our side, darling.” Coryo tells you in the most loving tone he can muster. Bringing his forehead to rest against yours, he swears, “What we have other people would kill for. Love at first sight’s very special and I'll be damned if I let district social rules keep us apart.” His hands lovingly caresses your cheeks as he declares with a twinkle in his baby blues, “I love you and I'm going to take good care of you, Y/N, no matter what.”

That love declaration took you aback. You honestly weren't expecting it, but it did touch your heart. Even if he loves you more than you love him right now (you really like him a lot, but you're still on the fence post about whether or not you love him), you're willing to give him a chance. Coryo loves you so much, after just a few meetings, that he swears to take care of you.

That's not something to take lightly, especially in the hard scrapple district of 12.

A man willing to take care of his girl, no matter who he is or what he does, is a huge declaration of love and devotion. Or at least it is in the poverty outlying districts. And it's a sure sign that the man's a keeper.

So, despite Coryo being a peacekeeper from the Capitol, in your books he's a keeper.

“I love you too, Coryo. And I'll let you take care of me.” You replied with a smile, because you couldn't afford to lose him. Not when everything you've been raised to believe is screaming at you that your boyfriend's a good man; a man that you need in your life.

“So, you agree to me finding us a place then?” Coryo asked, testing you to see if you'd truly let him take care of you or not.

What did you have to lose? You live in a glorified wooden shack with your miner brother that drinks too much and his barmaid girlfriend. You got fired from your job and so far no other shopkeepers are willing to hire you either. Coryo's certain that he'll pass his Officer's Exam, will be sent to a nicer district to train and serve. And since he promised to take care of you always, he'd surely bring you to a nicer district.

Right?

So, although his love seems all consuming and a bit suffocating, it's also redemptive in a way- in a way that'll give you a better life then the hum drum and depressing one you currently have.

So, you nod and tell Coryo, “Yes, you can find us a place.”

“Good to hear, baby.” Coryo grins triumphantly before kissing you.

But before the kiss has a chance to turn heated, Ashlie's voice calls out from the kitchen with, “Y/N, wake up! I need help with breakfast!”

“Damnit, she would be up.” Coriolanus grumbled under his breath. He knew that he couldn't fuck you this morning, not with your sister-in-law up and wanting your help with breakfast. It'd be too risky; you'd be caught for sure.

“I’ll be right there!” You called back before flinging the blanket off and untangling yourself from Coryo.

When you looked down and saw the blood on the sheet paired with the dried crimson on both your thighs and Coryo's cock you froze. Your eyes blinked and you just stared at it. The reality of what happened last night hits you full force like a freight train from 6.

Coryo quickly realizes what's got you zoning out, so he sits up and cups your cheeks- making you look into his crystal clear blue eyes. “Y/N, it's okay. The blood’s normal for a virgin’s first time.” He assured you in a gentle tone. “Don't be scared, everything's fine, darling.”

“Everything's not fine, Coryo. I'm going to get in so much trouble come laundry day…”

“Okay, how bout we hide the sheet in your closet and clean it ourselves? Hmm?”

“We don't have a bath or a shower, Coryo. There's going to be a bloody washcloth as evidence too.”

“Jesus…you don't have a fucking shower?” Coriolanus couldn't believe this. It's worse than he thought. You live in fucking squalor. Oh, he definitely needs to get you out of this shithole.

No future First Lady of his is living like a fucking peasent. Not when he can help it.

Damn, even he had a shower back in the Capitol and his family didn't have a pot to piss in.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Listen to me, darling.” Coryo orders before telling you the details of his sudden plan, “You stay right here and I'll grab a wet cloth from the bathroom, then I'll clean us both up. After we get dressed, you'll go help Ashlie with breakfast and I'll strip the bed- hide the sheets and the washcloth in your closet and put clean sheets on before joining you in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” You nod, causing Coryo to get out of bed and put on his boxers before going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth in order to set your plan in motion.

“Morning, Y/N, did you sleep well?” Ashlie asked as you stepped into the kitchen. Your hair, much to Coryo's urging, was placed over your shoulders to hide the love bite he left on your neck last night. You hope that it's not noticeable to Ashlie, because that'd just be embarrassing to have to explain.

But unknown to you, Ashlie heard everything-

EVERYTHING-

last night because, despite telling you to shut up, Coriolanus wasn't quiet at all. In fact he was loud and the bed banging against the thin wall was loud too.

So Ashlie knows what happened last night, or at least she has a good idea of what happened.

“I'm making oatmeal.” Ashlie told you, stirring a gloopy mixture of bland oats and a few days old goats milk in the cookpot. Gesturing to a steaming tin mug, she said, “I made you some morning tea.”

“But I usually have chicory coffee.” You replied, eying the tea warily since you never had tea in the house. In fact, the only one that drank tea was Ashlie, but it wasn't tea per say but a bunch of bitter dry herbs that she'd have the neighbor girl, Lucy Gray of the Covey, pick for her in the forest.

And, frankly, after what Coryo told you about Lucy Gray you doubt that he'd be pleased about you drinking anything that she picked. He doesn't want you around her, so…

“But with the shape your brother's in, and how he has a shift later tonight at the mines, he needs all the coffee he can get to sober up.” Ashlie said as a way to get you to accept that bitter herb tea she made for you. Oh and how she desperately wanted (no needed) you to drink that tea.

Turning your head, you saw your brother slouched in his sitting chair. He's still wearing his clothes from last night and he's got dried drool on one side of his face. His Seam grey eyes are glassy and bloodshot- a sure sign of a hangover. A tin mug full of chicory coffee is in one of his hands while his other is pressed against his temple in a vain attempt to alleviate his hangover headache.

Turning back to Ashlie, you say, “Yes, I suppose he does need the coffee.”, while reaching for your mug of tea.

Ashlie decides that now's the time to confront you about last night, while Coriolanus is still in your room. So, she grabs your wrist and pulls you close to her, all the while stirring the cookpot, and whispers into your ear, “You know what that peacekeeper did to you last night wasn't right.”

Before you could even bring the mug up to your lips, you go into shock at the brunette's words. Why would she say that to you? Oh my goodness, did she hear something last night?

Confirming your inner thoughts, Ashlie softly said, “The walls are thin; I heard everything he said and did to you, sweetheart.” Giving you a pitiful look, she added in, “You don't have to put up with that. You're a sweet girl and you deserve better than some peacekeeper that views you as an easy piece of ass he can do anything with.”

Her words hurt you, but they also made you mad. How dare she assume that Coryo was taking advantage of you last night. You agreed to fuck him. Yes, he pushed a bit hard towards the end, but you agreed to be with him.

Slamming down the tea mug, causing some of the hot liquid to slosh over the rim, you snapped, “What happened last night between me and Coryo is none of your business. I agreed to fuck him; he didn't make me do anything.” Snatching your wrist out of her grip, you turned on the kitchen sink and ran your hand under the tap, to cool the sting of the hot tea that split onto the hand holding the mug. “He pushed me a bit hard for my first time, but we talked about it, like a couple does, and everything's fine.”

“Y/N, he's not a good man. The things I heard him say last night…good men don't say those things to their girlfriends.” Ashlie told you, quiet enough so that your brother couldn't hear her, in a vain attempt to get you to see how much of a selfish lover Coryo was. Or at least that's how she viewed him.

You on the other hand viewed Coryo as a good boyfriend, as somebody that loved you a lot and quickly. To you he was very devoted.

You didn't know that his love and devotion was actually a sick obsession that was also possessive, but you don't need to worry about that small, minor detail.

To-may-to, to-mah-to, right?

“Why don't you worry about my drunk brother and keep your nose out of my relationship.” You harshly hissed at Ashlie, sounding so unlike yourself, right as Coryo entered the kitchen.

Looking between your hand under the running tap and Ashlie, who he didn't like solely because she was giving him a dirty look, he asked, “Is everything alright in here, babygirl?”

“I accidentally spilled some hot tea on my hand when I set my mug down.” You told Coryo while turning off the tap and patting your hand dry with a hand towel.

Coryo knew that wasn't the only thing that occured in the kitchen, but he needed to get you out of the house to ask what you and that ratty whore from the Hobb talked about while he was cleaning up your bed.

Walking up to you, he placed a gentle hand on your back and ordered in a suggestive tone, “Darling, let's go to the Mellark Bakery.”

“The bakery? But I'm making breakfast!” Ashlie exclaimed in an exasperated protest.

A cruel smirk appeared on the platinum peacekeeper’s angular face as he told her, “I promised my baby that I'd take her to the bakery today and I'm a man of my word.” Turning to you with a look of love and adoration, Coryo simply said, “Come along, Y/N.”, while leading you out of the kitchen.

Ashlie was appalled with the way Coryo was treating you. She was also appalled that you're just letting him do it too.

“Where ya goin’?” Rein asked, his voice scratchy and heavy with last night's booze, as you and Coryo walked by his sitting chair.

“Coryo's taking me to the Mellark Bakery for breakfast.” You answered your brother while Ashlie stared at the scene.

Oh how Ashlie was so pissed at Rein. If only your brother wasn't hungover right now. If he was sober he'd stop Private Snow from taking you out of the house.

“Just don't break any bread over the hearth; I ain't having that in my family.” Your brother seriously told you, pointing his coffee cup at your boyfriend. Truthfully, the thought of you marrying a peacekeeper terrified your brother whether he was sober, drunk, or hungover.

You're too much like your mother for your own good. Rein can't handle it. It's deja vu. Like history repeating itself all over again and he'll be damned if he sits back and watches you pick a peacekeeper over your own kind, the citizens of District 12.

“We won't.” You promised before walking out the door with Coryo.

As soon as you're on the front porch, Coryo asks, “What'd he mean by breaking bread over the hearth?”

“It's how people in 12 get married. It's called a toasting; you share a loaf of bread over a fire you stoke.”

“That's an odd way of getting married.” Coryo remarked as you walked down the porch steps.

Honestly, he viewed it to be a bit primal and uncivilized. In the Capitol couples have large ceremonies (modest if they're middle class or low class), exchange vows, and have a lovely reception only to follow it up with a honeymoon. The thought of being declared married due to breaking bread in front of a hearth was baffling. It proves to Coriolanus that the Districts are below the Capitol.

Well, thankfully he'll be dragging you back to the Capitol for a proper wedding ceremony. It'd be a cold day in hell before he had a toasting.

“Yea, but it's how things are done around here.” You tell him, linking arms with him and starting down the street.

Coryo just nods, accepting your remark. He has other matters to get to the bottom of this morning; debating the classless way 12 holds a marriage ceremony isn't that important. Not compared to what he needs to get aired out.

“What did I really walk into when I entered the kitchen? And don't tell me it was just you running tap water over your hand.”

Great, he would pick up that something was wrong. You didn't want to tell him, since you found it to be embarrassing, but you also had a feeling that he wouldn't like it very much if you lied to him.

So, despite being embarrassed, you told him the truth. “Ashlie overheard us last night; she decided to talk to me about it.”

“Jesus…” Coryo trails off in disbelief. You're 18, the time for that talk has come and gone in his opinion. Hell, he knows for a fact that girls in the districts are marrying and popping out babies pretty young in the Districts- like 15, 16 young. “She was giving you a sex talk? Damn, that's embarrassing.” Your boyfriend chuckles, hoping to lighten up the awkward subject.

“No,” You shook your head, “she was giving me a he’s not good enough for you and you shouldn't have fucked him talk.”

“Fucking ratty whore…” Coriolanus lowly muttered under his breath, jaw clenched tightly in anger.

How dare that dumb district whore say such things to you? Trying to turn you against him when he's the best goddamn thing to happen to you.

Coryo took his free hand and patted your arm the was linked with his, all the while assuring you, “Don't pay Ashlie any mind, she doesn't understand what we have and what we feel for each other.” Leaning his head down to press a comforting kiss to your temple, he told you, “I love you, baby, and I'm always going to love you. Don't let some bitter barmaid whose biological clock's ticking tell you otherwise.”

Before you could say anything to Coryo, you heard a commotion and turned your head in the direction the ruckus was coming from only to see a pair of on duty Peacekeepers dragging Arlo Chance out of the house he shared with Lil and Spruce. And talk about Lil, she was screaming hysterically while chasing after them, screaming and crying: “He didn't do nothing! Let him go, he didn't do nothing!”

Coryo looks between you and the scene unfolding at your neighbor's shack. “Do you know them?” He asks, hoping that you didn't. You knowing criminals is worse than you knowing the Covey in his books. Uh, maybe they're neck and neck. Who knows…

“The man being dragged away’s Arlo Chance, he works in the mines with my brother; he's around his age too, and the girl's Lil. She's Arlo's girlfriend; they live with her brother.”

“Are you friends with Lil?” Your platinum peacekeeper, casually dressed in an oversized white tee and his issued denim pants, asked. He put a light, curious tone in his question, even tho he was hoping that you're not friends with a girl who's man is a criminal.

And in Coriolanus' eyes Arlo Chance is a criminal because his fellow peacekeepers wouldn't just cart him away if he didn't do anything. He knew that the seasoned squads were on a manhunt for whoever blew up a mine earlier in the week. Now he has a hunch about who the culprit was in that.

“I'm friends with Lil, but she's a bit closer to Ashlie since their men are miners.” You admit to Coryo.

“Oh, I see.” Coryo nods studiously while dragging you swiftly down the street. “Well, I advise you not to be so friendly with her anymore since that man of hers is under arrest for the mine bombing that happened the other day.”

“What?! Arlo blew up the mine!?” You shrieked, eyes wide with shock.

Coriolanus internally groaned at your reaction. He wanted to tell you to shut up, but he didn't want to risk you getting upset. Not after last night. He needs to give you some time to get comfortable with him and his overbearing affections before he can scold you.

“Yes, darling, that's my understanding, so I advise you to stay away from Lil unless you want to be labeled a rebel.” Was the order, disguised as a suggestion, that your boyfriend gave you: his baritone curt and cold as ice.

“But Lil lives a few houses away; she comes over to visit often.”

“Then I suppose this is the reason you need to let me find us a place.” Coryo firmly said, a dead serious look shining in his crystal blue eyes.

Coriolanus kept a keen eye open for any for rent signs in apartment windows while walking to the Mellark Bakery with you. The sooner he got you out of that hellhole you called home the better. Honestly, he needed you alone in your own apartment so that he could condition you; turn you into the perfect Capitolite wife. Despite you being District, you're the kindest, warmest, purest soul he's ever met and he's sure that with the right etiquette training and rhetoric lessons that he'll be able to make you acceptable to proper society- because he can't have people turning their nose up at your District origins.

And if they do, well, he'd probably kill them for daring to speak a word against you.

Yea…

He's got it bad for you.

And of course, the townsfolk stared at you while you walked with your boyfriend. Tongues waggled too. All kinds of things were whispered about you and the platinum peacekeeper, but one thing kept coming up between a few folks of a certain age.

Your mother and your father; how the apple don't fall far from the tree.

“Here we are, darling.” Coryo announced with a smile, his pearly whites shining brighter than his T-shirt, as you approached the bakery. “Now, remember, you can order anything you want, baby.” Your boyfriend smiled while opening up the door to the shop and subtly pushing you inside of the brick building

You could see racks of bread cooling as soon as you entered the bakery. And when your eyes landed on the displays of various pastries, your mouth began to water. The delicious smell wafting throughout the bakery also had your senses on overdrive. You've never been in the Mellark Bakery before, never having enough money to do so, so you're in awe of all the baked goods in the store.

Coryo has his hand on the small of your back while guiding you over to the display case full of various baked goods. “Let's see what they got, shall we, baby?” He suggested with his large, Cheshire cat like grin.

“Okay.” You nod, smiling excitedly. You still can't believe that you're in the bakery; can order anything you want too.

The baker's wife is behind the counter, eying you and Coryo up uneasily. She's used to peacekeepers coming in, but she doesn't like those from the Seam. And, well, to have a handsome peacekeeper with a Seam girl- nothing but a poor wretch of a girl- eying up her display case and sweetly discussing the various pastires disgusted her.

Mrs. Mellark didn't want to service you, because of your Seam residency, but she has no choice but to smile and politely ask how she could help because you're with Coryo, an off duty peacekeeper. It killed the merchant deep inside her soul to do that too.

Coryo ordered you both a chocolate croissant and black coffee with sugar. Mrs. Mellark quickly made up your order and gave it to him. She gave Coryo a discount, like she did all peacekeepers (as a sort of bribe to keep them coming back for more baked goods on their days off) and thanked him with a big, but fake smile as he dismissively told her to keep the change (it was only a few measley pennies anyways).

Coryo and you ended up sitting on a bench in the town square, eating your pastries and drinking your coffee while talking about the tiniest things.

“Are you enjoying your pain au chocolat, baby?” Coryo asked with a genuine smile from ear to ear while watching you scarl down your pastry.

“Yes.” You reply before taking another bite. “Is that what chocolate filled croissants are called in the. Capitol? Pain au chocolate?” You ask, wondering about the term he used to inquire about your like of the sweet pastry.

“Yes.” Coryo nodded, sipping on his coffee. “And in the Capitol our coffee would be called sweetened black instead of black with sugar.”

“The Capitol has pleasant sounding names for things, doesn't it.” You stated although it sounds more like a question.

“It does.” Coryo agreed with manic smile. “Perhaps we'll be able to go back there on day.” He proposed before taking a precise and gentlemanly bite out of his croissant.

You knew his remark was just wishful thinking since Coryo was from the Capitol. You knew, as much as he did, that he'd never return to the Capitol; that he'll never take you there either. But it's nice to have hopes and dreams; you can't fault him for that.

So, being too kind for your own good, you give your boyfriend a smile and say, “Perhaps we will, Coryo.”

But only if you knew that Coriolanus Snow took your words very seriously and to heart. That by telling him that you just signed up for a one way ticket to the Capitol whether you liked it or not. Coryo’s taking you back with him when he's able to return; he's also making you Mrs. Snow and his First Lady. He's going to be making you the mother of his children (who, of course, will be heirs to one of the mightiest families in all of Capitol society) and he knows deep in his bones that you'll be a picture perfect mom- nurturing, gentle, soft. And since you'll be a picture perfect mom you'll also be a picture perfect wife.

If only you knew that Coriolanus Snow's a cunning, devious snake of a man that'll do anything to get what he wants. And what he wants is a life in the Capitol as filthy rich politician- no as President of Panem- with you by his side til you're old and grey; parted by nothing but death.

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colonoscopys · 3 days

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ch. 18

buddie I 900 words I ao3

He’s drunk.

Not the blazing, head so spinny he could hurl if he stood straight, but in the hours after drunk that comes with a dry, heavy tongue and a slurred voice he still has some sort of control over.

Buck’s in the same boat, or—he thinks he must be, he doesn’t know, sitting criss-crossed next to him outside their hotel room door because they can’t, for the life of them, figure out how to put the key card into the door.

“Hey, Eddie,” Buck slurs, looking at him with slow, wide-lidded blinks. “Where’s—where’s Chimney?”

He draws out Chimney. Chim-ney.

Eddie shrugs. He can’t make his mouth work for the life of him. He’s pretty sure he saw Chimney two hours ago—before the music started? Or at least when he started singing Maneater with one of the Drag Queens.

Buck knocks a shoulder into his as he slips down the wall, the smell of his hair briefly sifting into his nose. He smells like gin and lemons, and a little bit of that fancy curl product he tresses up his hair with before every fancy event.

I know his hair product, he thinks loosely, tilting his head against the wall as he takes Buck’s weight. I know his hair product, and the way he does his hair before work. I know it all because he helps my son do his hair just the same way. I know it all because my son wants to be like him, so I have learned him, for my son. I know it all because I have learned him. I know it all because I have learned him, for me.

I have learned him. I have earned him.

“Does—” And Fuck, maybe he’s drunker than he thought. “Does Tommy know your curl?”

Buck hums, non-committedly. He hasn’t heard a word Eddie said. He tries again.

“Does,” he spits out. Doooesss. “Tommy.” Ttttommyyyy. “Know.” Know.

Buck lifts his head up and ends up tipping too much to the other side. Eddie grabs him by the forearm, tight. The action feels familiar in ways that Eddie, for the life of him, can't understand.

Buck blinks at him, bright blue eyes stupid dilated. “Does Tommy know what?” He whispers. He draws out his name, too. Tom-my.

Eddie looks at him and loves him.

He’s always known he loves Buck. For the first time in his life, though, he thinks—I love you. What does that make me?

Eddie opens his mouth. The back of his throat burns—maybe from all the tequila shots or the lemons hitting the rim of his teeth or the raw pad of his tongue from licking salt off of Buck’s warm palm.

Does he know what you look like covered in blood, Eddie wants to ask. Does he know what it looks like when you haven’t showered in three days because you’re so depressed you don’t know if water burns more than the sun. Does he know what it looks like when you’ve got ugly red eyes because you’re so sad you don’t even know how to hold it. Does he know what it looks like to see you shining, like a savior, in the worst of the worst, in the worst of your days. Does he know what it’s like to lose you, really lose you, and see you swallowed up by white sheets and a lightning scar across your chest. Does he know what it’s like to be loved by you. Does he know.

He thinks—I love you. What does that make me?

Eddie tries to take a breath but it feels like there’s something crawling up his throat, so he tilts his head back up against the wall and tries to take a breath.

“He’s coming to the wedding,” Buck continues, as Eddie stares at him.

Eddie nods. “Good,” he says. Good. Buck. “Tommy.” Tommy. Tommy.

He looks at Buck and thinks of the answer.

It makes him a dead man, this love. It’ll kill him probably. It has to kill him. It has to be like a disease you can’t hear or smell or breathe, and you have to be alone in the hospital with your blood running in circles beneath your skin. It has to be like a disease that kills you before you take your next breath. It’s killing him.

I love you. What does that make me?

It makes a fucking idiot, is what it makes him, because god he’s always too fucking late, running into stupid relationships after relationships after being too fucking late in the beginning of it all. He is too late. He is too late and he is in love and he is burning up right from the inside.

I love you. What does that make me?

He heaves. He can’t breathe. Buck puts his head back down on his shoulder, and all of a sudden Eddie has to learn how to breathe, or otherwise he’ll disrupt Buck’s rest. He can’t disrupt Buck’s rest.

“Buck,” he starts, opening his mouth. Buck sighs, half-heartedly, and tilts back. He looks at Eddie. Eddie opens his mouth.

“I love you,” he says. Nothing comes out. “What does that make me?”

Buck looks at him, confused. He blinks, like he's thinking it through.

“Eddie.” He draws out his name, slow. Eddie.

#you are allowed. to hate this #buddie fic #evan buckley #911 fic #hello 😇😁#eddie diaz

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ceruleancattail · 7 hours

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You wanted some Mystic AU asks right? If you don’t mind, could you expand on how Riddle or Jack would react to being summoned just for cuddles? I feel like they would be among the more easily flustered of the familiars you’ve talked about so far. Thank you!

I PROMISE I SAW THIS OK- IT’S LATE BUT UT’S OUT IM SO SORRY

Summoned for… Cuddles?

Mystic Au

Kitsune Riddle x reader, Kobainu Jack x reader

Riddle always maintains his composure no matter where he’s summoned. Come what may, his service to his master will remain top notch. At least, that’s what Riddle has sworn by. To excel, no matter where he ends up.

Although today might be the day he breaks that perfect streak. He came the moment you called, appearing in a burst of flames, the scarlet of freshly bloomed roses. Shoulders tensed, ready for any order you might give him…

Only to see you on your couch, clad in your sleeping attire. Frowning, Riddle glances around the room. Nothing in sight. He approaches carefully, bowing in greeting.

“Riddle Rosehearts. Reporting to your summons. What would you have me do…”

His voice trails off as something warm cups his cheek. Your hand, gently caressing the side of his face. Running your thumb across the curve of his cheek, you bite back a laugh as Riddle’s cheeks bloom bright red, the exact same shade as his ears. Your other hand soon joins the first, cupping his face within your palms. Gently squeezing it softly, chuckling at the way Riddle seems melt right into your touch .

“Does there have to be a reason for me to call you, Riddle?”

Gulping, Riddle does his best to respond to you. Unfortunately the close proximity to you, along with your affections have left him rather tongue-tied.

“Well… summonings are usually done… for a reason.. master.”

Humming softly to yourself, you shoot Riddle a sheepish smile.

“A reason? I guess… I was just lonely then.”

A silence pause passes between both of you. Before you felt something furry wrap around your waist. One of Riddle’s many tails, coaxing you forward. Engulfing you within his fur, as soft as a freshly mown meadow. It was warm, just like a lover’s passionate embrace.

You glance towards Riddle, only to find a small smile creeping across his lips. A soft, gentle smile, like the faint golden rays of the morning sun. Its warmth went straight into your heart.

“If company is all that you desire, I would only be too happy to grant you that.

Allow me to stay by your side for as long as you wish me too, my beloved master.”

Jack enters like with all the vicious energy of a storm. The mere impact of his landing blasting you back ever so slightly, howling winds whipping past you. Tousling both your hair and clothes into an absolute mess, the cold nipping at both of your cheeks in turn.

For a moment, you felt like a poor traveller stranded on the tops of a snow capped mountain, stuck within the merciless powerless of a snow storm. Until you caught the gaze of a pair of ember eyes in the midst of all the chaos. A small smile creeps across your lips.

Ah. It was him.

A pair of canine ears stood straight, attentive and ready. A well-muscled male stood before you, fists clenched. His stance defensive, ready for anything that might be thrown at him. He bows his head slightly in greeting, before speaking:

“Jack Howl, at your service. Your orders?”

A brief, gruff greeting. Almost like a dog’s bark, short and straight to the point. You liked that about Jack. He’ll hardly ever beat around the bush with you, unlike some other individuals and their endless riddles.

Jack was painfully honest, for the better or for the worse. Even if he tried to lie, it’ll show right up on his face. Jack was rather expressive, even if he doesn’t notice. Yes, it was this honesty that made you ever so fond of him.

“My orders? Hmm… come a little closer then, Jack. Maybe bend down a little?”

Jack blinks, confused. Yet he obliges you all the same, walking closer. Once you were happy with where he was, Jack was bending down. Low enough for your hands to reach.

“Is this alright, Master? I’m not too sure…”

Your fingertips graze over his ears ever so softly, and Jack goes silent. Glancing at his face, you scan it tentatively, looking for any signs of discomfort. As far as you could tell, there were none. Only a patch of scarlet red, spreading across his cheeks just like spilled ink.

You rub a little firmer, gently stroking his ears. Dragging your fingers from the very tip to the base of his ears. Scratching a little, before your fingers get lost in his hair, running through it as gently as you could. Jack seemed to enjoy it, if the storm his tail was whipping up behind him was any indicator.

Once your hands reached the last ends of his hair, you pull away, satisfied with your pampering. Only to have a pair of calloused fingers wrap around your wrist, slowly coaxing them towards his ears once more. Jack stares at you with a gaze filled with tender longing, pleading silently.

Please don’t stop, Master.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle #jack howl #jack howl x reader #Jack #Jack x reader #mystic au #lucky charm🔷

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yourheart-inmyhands · 2 days

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Just remembered the fallen god reader thingy- what if reader just one day regains their power ;)) and then just leaves them, I'm like super offended ;(( I dont wanna be mistreated by them

ahaha this ask made me chuckle a little! unfortunately my version of yandere archons aren't sweet in every scenario, i do still hope you enjoy though! :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including mentions of being held against ones will, mentions of manipulation, mentions of violence, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Venti:

Well, he certainly can’t just let you leave, not after all that hard work he put into nursing you back to health. No no, don’t you see, you owe him. You could try and claim he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart, I mean he’s an Archon, a god just like you, doesn’t he see how unjust it is to demand payment?

You could beg and plead all you want, but unless your powers are enough to break the elemental barriers he’s set up, then I’m afraid you’re trapped. He won’t mistreat you, he’ll be nice and sweet to you so long as you behave, but your freedom will forever be removed.

“It’s not fair you say? A lot of things in this world aren’t fair, it’s just how it is.” His bright smile and humorous laugh do little to settle your unrest. No matter how hard you begged, how fast the tears poured from your eyes, or how strained your voice became from constant pleading, nothing worked. Perhaps if you learned to behave he’d let you see the sun again, until then, think long and well about all he had done for you. Remember exactly just how much you owe him for the things he’s done for you.

Zhongli:

He finds it curious that your powers have suddenly returned, but it does little to change his authority over you. Regardless of the strength you show or possess, Zhongli has ingrained into your mind just how weak and pathetic you are. You are nothing without him, your silly little powers mean nothing if you aren’t here with him. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see that you need him?

There’s little that would change about the dynamic between the two of you, if anything it just gives Zhongli an excuse to be around you more. His eyes seem to always be observing you now, watching keenly to ensure you don’t dare step out of line. There will be consequences if you should try.

“Dinner is done, come eat.” His tone is warm, but there’s a familiar sense of sternness in the undertone. Since the resurgence of your powers, Zhongli had made sure to remind you of your place below him. It didn’t matter how hard you fought, the elder god showed little remorse when overpowering you. It was astounding to think that even after the loss of his gnosis he could still hold such power over you, but then again, Morax wasn’t known as the God of War for nothing.

Raiden:

She doesn’t believe you at first, those who lose their divinity are not simply granted it back. It would take a long while and many displays of your capabilities to convince her. It doesn’t much change her opinion of you though. Raiden still thinks you are foolish and weak to have lost your powers to begin with. And for that, you should suffer the consequences.

Every escape attempt or effort put in to fight back is quickly shut down. She doesn’t even let you build up the hope that you’ll be able to land a hit before she’s got you disarmed, pinned, and once more shown your place beneath her. It gets a bit frustrating, having to always correct your silly outburst.

“When will you learn that you are nothing compared to me? You should be grateful I have enough decency to put up with this behavior, if you were anyone else I’d have tossed you to the streets like the pathetic waste you seem keen on acting like.” Her words are as rough and painful as her hold on you is. She has you under her, pinned to the floor in the living room of her home. It’s an embarrassing sight, your face held down to the hardwood as she scolds you like a child. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but Raiden had hoped that by now you’d have learned your lesson. She is getting incredibly fed up with you.

Furina:

Your return of power puts her in a tough position because before when you were powerless, she had something to hold over your head. Now, you hold the power and she’s left to flounder.

There isn’t much she can do to keep you from leaving, sobbing on her knees as you walk towards the front door. It wasn’t fair, it wasn't fair that you got to get back what you lost, it wasn’t fair that you got to still be connected to divinity when she was cut entirely from it.

“Please, please don’t leave me…” Furina kneels on the ground, hands balled into fists as she begs and sobs. She can just barely see the sides of your shoes as you walk past, disregarding her as you head for the front door. When she’s sure you’re not looking she ceases her crying, the tears were fake from the start. Reaching for the pipe she hid under the couch, she silently grabs it before standing. It was easier to hit you, having stopped in the doorway to admire your freedom, you had been too caught up to hear the soft patter of her footsteps behind you.

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daisykihannie · 2 days

Text

What could go wrong? Chapter 2 (H.JS)

pairing: Incubus!Jisung x gn arab!reader + bff!Felix

warnings: smut, NSFW, exhibitionism, voyerism, oral, monster fucking, no protection, power exchange, angst (if you squint), fluff (if you squint), phone sex (kinda), orgasm control, orgasm denial, edging, teasing, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, etc.

chapter 1 | chapter 3

a/n: i have written and re-written chapter two so many times and i hate all of them. This is the best one out of all my attempts so, this one will be chapter 2. I wanted to touch more on the whole Jisung Catching feelings part but maybe i’ll do a chapter three later in for that. I’m sorry if this isn’t as good as chapter one. i kinda psyched myself out when writing this bc i’m scared to disappoint you guys after you all loved chapter one so much.

When you woke up again you could feel a weight resting across your hip and a firm pressure applied to your back. Opening your eyes, you were greeted with the bright rays of morning sun dancing across your face, causing you to squint your eyes as they attempted to adjust. As you moved to grab your phone from your bedside table, the grip around your waist tightened and a growl greeted your ears. Luckily you weren’t as startled as the first time you awoke to the demon's presence against you, this time a small smile pulled at your lips instead and you rolled over swiftly to be facing him, the tips of your noses grazing each other in the process.

Your movements caused the demon to screw his eyes shut and his eyebrows to furrow in annoyance, displaying that he clearly had no intentions of getting up yet. When your body stilled and settled into a comfortable position again, his face relaxed back into a peaceful pout and you felt your heart begin to beat harshly against your rib cage. How could a demon, whose entire purpose was seduction and sex, look so damn innocent and cute? It was really starting to give you whiplash and a slight headache as you desperately tried to wrap your head around it.

You figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a moment to admire the larger man in your bed. You lie there with only millimeters between your faces and he truly is a masterpiece, you can feel yourself getting lost in the gentleness of his softer features as your eyes travel everywhere they could reach with the lack of space between yourselves, determined to have his form engraved into your brain. His hand kept its firm grip on your hip bone, almost like he was worried you’d slip away and disappear if his grip loosened even slightly.

“Enjoying the view?” his deep, growling, morning voice made you jump in surprise and it successfully snapped you out of your trance. The bass of his tone shook you to your core, heat beginning to pool in your underwear as your body began to react to him before your brain had a chance to. Right as you were ready to reply with a snarky remark like you normally would to his cockiness, your phone began to ring.

Letting out a quiet groan, you reluctantly flipped your body back over, away from his comforting body heat and grabbed the device. You could feel the demon's eyes traveling along the back of your neck as you read the caller ID. Seeing “Lixie Baby” lighting up the screen you felt yourself getting giddy, having missed your best friend more than you’d realized. Accepting the call and holding the phone up to your ear you cooed “My baby! I missed you so much~” your words earned a deep chuckle from the other side, causing a warm smile to settle against your lips.

“I missed you too Angel, did you do the ritual? Have you been getting your guts rearranged too well to respond to your soulmate?” he teased, trying his best to sound offended at his implications and you let out your own chuckle in response. You heard a slight growl escape the demon behind you and his grip on your hip tightened before he pulled you back towards him. You were pressed flush against his bare chest, his exposed cock pressing into the back of your thigh with how tightly he held your body against his own.

Jisung felt a weird feeling bubbling in his chest when he heard how you spoke lovingly to the other person on the call. It wasn’t anger or anything like that, It was a new feeling. It was something that he’d never felt before and if he was being completely honest, he didn’t like it. It made his stomach twist in tight and uncomfortable knots and the fact that he had started feeling new, weird feelings since meeting you made him frustrated. The only way he knew how to cure frustrations was sex, as a sex demon, it made sense. A bubbling desire to get rid of these disgusting feelings and replace them with much better feelings was what influenced his actions at this moment.

Ignoring the way he held you possessively as you continued your conversation but you decided not to pull away from his toned body, allowing him to manhandle you in whatever way he desired. “God Lixie, why are you so concerned about me getting laid? Do you need that book back so you can get your dick wet and hop off mine?” you teased and you could just hear Felix pouting on the other side as a soft giggle left your lips. Your conversation continued like this, teasing each other in a flirty manner like you two normally did, as you felt Jisung nosing against the crook of your neck where it connected to your shoulder. The flesh under his nose and lips was still painted in red and purple marks, memorializing the night you had just shared with the demon mere hours ago.

A shiver traveled down your spine when his tongue slipped out from between his lips and began tracing the marks on your skin in soft kitten licks and you swatted at Jisung’s hip in an attempt to get him to stop. He was having none of that and you could feel him smirk against your skin at your poor attempt. He began trailing his hand that was resting on your hip down between the plush of your thighs and using his nails to dig into the supple flesh, pulling your legs apart and using his elbow to keep you from letting your legs shut again. He kept your knee bent and your foot firmly planted against the mattress behind your other knee that was still resting comfortably on its side on the bed, the space between your legs forming a triangle shape.

While Felix went on a bit of a tangent and you listened intently, you took his yapping as a chance to pull your phone away from your ear and mute your mic so you could speak to Jisung without Felix’s knowledge. “Jisung. Stop it now. Can’t you see I'm on the phone?!” you scolded him in a whisper and you felt his cock twitch against the meat of your ass in response before he spoke.

“Trust me, I can see that very clearly and since you don’t want to get off the phone when I ask nicely, you get to stay on the phone and be good for me instead.” he growled out against the shell of your ear that was newly exposed from removing the phone from it. “What the fuck are you talking about sung?” you asked slightly annoyed and very confused about what he meant. Sensing your confusion he continued, “You’re going to continue your conversation while I use your pretty body however I want as a punishment for not listening. You don’t want little Lixie to find out about the demon in your bed right? So you better be really good at hiding how good I'm making you feel.” with his words, he unmuted your phone right as you heard Felix calling out to you for a response, sensing you’d been quiet a little too long.

“Sorry Lix, I had to feed Soonie. I’m listening, don't worry.” you didn’t have a chance to argue as you fell back into listening and paying attention to the rest of Felix’s story but you did your best to hide your arousal at Jisungs words and luckily Felix didn’t catch it but you were almost positive a certain demon had when you heard another growl ripping from his throat. Jisung wasted no time once he heard Felix continue to ramble, his fingers slipping into the waistband of your sleep shorts and your into underwear.

He used his fingertips to swipe through your folds, collecting your slick arousal on his fingers as lube before begging to rub slow, teasing circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your breath caught in your throat and you had to bite down on your lower lip to keep a moan from escaping. Jisungs tongue went back to traveling across your neck and shoulder, sucking and nipping at the unmarked skin and causing more reds and purples to erupt just under the surface of your skin.

“Angel? Are you okay? I heard you gasp, what happened?” concern and worry laced your best friend's voice and you had to use all of your power to focus on him and will your voice to remain steady as you spoke. “Y-yeah…” hearing your own stutter, you cleared your throat before continuing. “All is good Sunshine, just um… get scratched by Soonie… seems like she wants to p-play a bit too rough for how early it is… but I’m okay. Carry on with your story. How did Hyune respond to that?” you silently begged him not to push further and you looked at Jisung over your shoulder with a warning to stop, but he was having too much fun watching you struggle to contain your sounds.

At that exact moment the demon decided to push just the tips of his index and middle finger inside of your entrance, using a scissoring motion to tease you open for him. You had to screw your eyes shut as your body shivered and your jaw went slack with a silent moan. “That’s my baby~ you’re doing so good for me.” Jisung whispered against your neck quiet enough to not be picked up by the mic on your phone but loud enough for you to hear. He swiftly rolled you onto your back and your eyes met his in a heated, lust filled stare off as you watched him move down the expanse of your body before he stopped with his face only incessantly from your core. Your eyes were practically begging him to let you get off the phone before progressing further and he shook his head with a tsk.

Your eyes stayed on his as he began pressing open mouthed kisses to the wet spot forming on the thin fabric of your shorts just above your sensitive bud. Your jaw went slack in a silent moan at the sensation and your eyes rolled back into your head momentarily, your reaction only urging him to continue with his languid teasing. He began to make out with your clothed clit and your arm started to drop causing your phone to leave your ear for a moment and he used his sharp canines to nip slightly at the bundle of nerves. Your eyes shot back open and went wide as you stared down at him with a look to ask “what the fuck?”

He didn’t stop his tongue and lips from their languid dance along the slick soaked fabric, eyes still locked on yours as he spoke. “I said to stay on the phone. Keep the phone to your ear, now.” a whimper slipped from your lips in response to his raspy voice, attaching the phone back to its place against your ear and you heard a nervous chuckle leave Felix.

“H-hey um… if you’re busy w-we can always call later…” he sounded a bit out of breath when he spoke, almost like he was panting and before you could respond with a yes, jisung nipped at your clit again causing your body to jolt in response. “N-no Lixie… I- I’m good to k-keep talking. What were y-you saying again?” you hadn’t been able to pay attention to anything the other male was saying but he continued nevertheless. Jisung seemed pleased with this so he finally removed your drenched shorts and panties, wasting no time before attaching his mouth to your bare heat.

He let out a low growl that caused vibrations to shoot through you as soon as he could taste you. He was acting feral at your taste, lapping at your juices and sucking on your clit with slurping sounds like a man starved. It quickly became impossible to keep quiet with the way Jisung skillfully worked his tongue against you and inside your tight hole. Wanton moans began to rip out of your chest and your phone fell onto the bed as both your hands slipped into Jisung’s midnight blue locks, tugging his face against your core, grinding on his nose and tongue.

A growl erupted from the demon between your legs when he noticed that you had discarded the phone and he pulled away, earning a high pitched whine from you. You looked at him with confusion, the room growing quiet and you could hear distant grunts and huffs filling the air. That’s when it hit you, you were still on the phone with Felix and you’d gotten so lost in Jisung’s mouth that you hadn’t tried to contain the sounds of your pleasure. You face grew red as you scrambled to pick up the phone, Felix's moans filling your ear and causing your core to gush at the sounds. Jisung let out a chuckle at your reaction and watched your throbbing bundle of nerves and your hole clenching around nothing at your ruined orgasm.

“L-lixie?” you asked softly and cautiously. You were beyond embarrassed and didn't know how to approach the topic of what was happening. “Fuck angel… you sound so good i just- i can’t help myself.” his voice was more whiny than you’d ever heard before. “M-maybe we should just c-call later?” you asked him in a shaky voice, slight wince on your face in fear.

Before Felix even had a chance to respond, Jisung was grabbing your phone. “Felix was it?” he purred into the phone, Felix's moans quietly continuing on the other side before stopping abruptly when he heard the much deeper voice, earning a devilish smirk from the demon still planted between your thighs. You couldn’t hear if Felix was responding or not as you watched Jisung begin nipping at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, your body jolting at the sharp sting that followed each one.

“hmmmm why don’t you come join us? I'm sure my doll will be more than happy to have both of us at once.” and Jisung hung up before anything further could be said. Your eyes went wide as the cocky smirk remained on his face.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT JI!? HE'S MY BEST FRIEND!” You tried to sit up and pull your heat away from him but he was quicker in digging his nails into your hip bones slightly to hold you in place, his face so close that every word he spoke caused hot air to stick to the slick that covered your core.

“No need to pretend that you don’t want each other. Remember, it’s my job to serve you sexually so I know what you truly desire since sealing our contract. The contract allows me to hear every single want and need that your body holds.” he finished what he was saying and placed a light kiss to your still throbbing bud, eliciting a whimper from you. “I-it’s not like he’ll actually sh-show” you mumbled out between the kitten licks Jisung delivered between your folds, barely allowing the tip of his tongue to graze your most sensitive spots and teasing you further. Your body was heating up again as you grew more desperate to be touched properly.

“Trust me doll, he will show.” he purred and returned back to eating you out. He wasn’t nearly as ravenous as before, teasing you with soft licks, light suckles, and barely placing his index finger against your entrance and tugging slightly at the ring but never fully slipping his digits inside. He kept up his teasing and edging to the point of tears slipping from your eyes, begging him to do more but never earning such a reward.

This torture went on for about 10 minutes and you were beyond the point of soft tears, you were practically wailing for him to give you more as your doorbell rang. Your eyes shot open wide, meeting with the demon's slanted eyes and he pulled away from you just enough to speak but letting his words fall against your core. “Come in!” he called out through the apartment.

“What the fuck!? we don’t know who-“ you were cut off by a panting felix in your bedroom doorway. He looked like he’d ran all the way there, cock still tenting his sweats as he took in the sight before him. “L-lix…” you spoke through your tears, jisung taking a moment to suck harshly at your swollen bud and causing you to let out another moan and a cry.

Unfortunately you didn’t get any relief as Jisung climbed off the bed and sat in the desk chair in your room. His eyes were locked on the blonde male as your soaked core was on display, Felix's eyes never leaving you and your body began to heat up in embarrassment. You went to close your thighs and cover yourself up but Jisung let out a low guttural growl, causing you to let your knees fall back to the bed and opening your core up yet again.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Get to work, make my baby feel good~” Jisung purred out, unknowingly adding extra weight to the “my'' and shifted his hips forward in his seat, his monstrous cock on full display. Luckily Felix didn’t seem fazed at all by a literal demon sitting in your room so he made quick work to stalk over to your bed and slotting himself between your open thighs.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty like this~ tears and all.” Felix praised as he caged your body to the bed, pressing his clothed cock against your fully soaked and exposed core. He kissed the tears off your cheeks before catching your jutted out lower lip between his teeth. He pulled at your swollen and pouty lower lip slightly, earning a whimper from you as your hands shot into his long blonde hair and pulled his face closer. Your lips danced together in a fierce battle of dominance, your need overpowering your embarrassment in the situation as you were finally being touched properly.

Felix began rocking his hips against you, deep groans slipping into your open mouth, silvia dripping down both of your chins and down your chest. You desperately needed more after the extensive teasing from Jisung, your hands moving to Felix’s hips and pulling him painfully closer, the barrier of his clothing becoming too much as the grinding continued. The grinding and kissing just wasn’t enough and it was slightly embarrassing to know that you were acting like you were in heat with your frantic movements. You needed to feel full, needed to cum, needed Felix to fuck you open on his cock.

“L-lixie please… need you now… inside please…” you begged against his lips like you were going to go insane if he didn’t hurry up and honestly, you were convinced you might. “You… fuck- you have to let go of me first so I can take off my pants angel-“ his words hit your lips since you’d refused to let him separate from you at all and you reluctantly let go of your vice grip on him with a desperate whine when you felt his body heat leave you.

Jisung remained seated as he watched you cling desperately to the smaller blonde male. At first it was funny watching your desperation as the other fumbled through his movements, clearly he wouldn’t be able to appease you like he did but then he watched as Felix removed his clothes to reveal a toned build and a decent sized cock, causing Jisung to gulp.

When Jisung first saw the man entering your room in a fluffy sweater and gray sweats, he looked far too soft and sweet to be a satisfying partner for how wild you were. He didn’t expect him to have much experience or to be as hung as he was. He was nowhere near as big as Jisung but he definitely had a solid hand of cards to play with. Jisung looked at you and the way you drooled over just the sight of Felix’s cock made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

He remained in his spot as he watched Felix settle back between your legs after stripping and you began rolling your hips along his cock the same way you’d done with Jisung that first time. He hadn’t realized how tight his grip had gotten on the armrests of your desk chair until he felt them snap under his grip, breaking off from the rest of the chair. His focus fell to the crumbling price of black plastic that now rested in his palm and with his focus off of you and Felix, he was able to realize just how tight his chest had grown.

It felt harder to breathe and his stomach was tangled in knots so tight he was sure they’d push any food up and out of his throat. A growl rumbled through his chest, that feeling of almost anger was back again and bubbling painfully against his rib cage, yet he still couldn’t place what exactly it was. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard you screaming out a name that wasn’t his.

“Fuck! Felix- oh my god! you feel so fucking good-" Your screams earned low grunts from your best friend as his hips continued to snap into you harshly, the sound of skin slapping mixed with your wanton moans and his deep groans began filling the room. The smell of sex flooded Jisung’s nose as he struggled to contain himself with the sounds being made and watching you fall apart on Felix’s cock.

Hearing how good another man, a mere human, was making you feel made his blood boil. He hated every second of this, something that was supposed to just be fun was painful to him now. He’s had plenty of threesomes before so this wasn’t anything new but the way he was seeing red as he watched Felix bring you to the brink of your orgasm? That was definitely new. How long has this been going on? Why did he do this? He was ready to tear Felix’s head from his body, he needed to stop this-

“FUCK! Yes lix~ j-just like that! I-I’m gonna- ngghh” you clenched around Felix's cock as your body was sent over the edge, muscles on fire as you came all over his cock. The clenching of your walls as you worked through your high brought Felix to his own orgasm and he pulled out, painting your chest and stomach with his long white ropes. Your body trembled as Felix pulled out with a slight wince and let his body collapse next to you, both of your chests heaving while trying to catch your breath.

“God- I can't believe we never did that.” you mumbled still trying to catch your breath, a soft chuckle following. “We definitely need to do this again Angel~” he hummed with a flirting tint to his voice. He rolled over to look at you, eyes landing on the demon in the process, fear plaguing his body at what he saw.

Jisung’s eyes were a glowing neon pink, fangs visible as he bit down on his lip, blood pouring down his chin and forming a puddle in the ridges of his abs. He saw that the chair was now missing arm rests and bits of black plastic were crumbled on the floor beside the chair.

The sight made Felix tense up and freeze, cold sweats prickling from his pores. You noticed the rigidity of Felix’s body when he froze next to you, opening your eyes again and you met those of the demon on the other side of the room. It was odd how you didn’t feel scared, the same eyes that’d haunted you in the beginning now making you coo internally. Why did he look like a kicked puppy to you?

“Sungie~” you called out softly and held out your hand for him. The lack of terror you exhibited made Felix not only petrified but beyond confused as well. Jisung looked at you, his expression softening for only a moment. It was so quick that you’d miss it if you blinked, but you’d caught it. He really was just a big puppy under that scary dog exterior.

“Come here please? I need my sungie~'' Your voice still showed how tired you were but remained soft and sweet, your focus was entirely on Jisung now and you’d almost forgotten Felix was still laying in your bed. “I-i’m gonna go before he kills me…” Felix’s voice came out shaky but his fear kept him frozen to his place. “No, Lix you stay right there.” you spoke softly, eyes trained on Jisung who still had yet to move.

“Jisung.” your voice was stern and Jisung couldn’t help but react to the dominance in your voice. Slowly rising from his seat and stalking over to you, same terrifying energy radiating off of him, expression remaining harsh to felix but you could see deeper. He wasn’t angry, he was hurt and all you wanted to do was hold him and cover his face in kisses, comfort him and make him feel better.

Jisung made it over to the bed before stopping at the side, body still rigid and powerful in his stance and his eyes flicked over to Felix, causing him to jump back a bit in fear. He couldn’t understand what the fuck was happening and he just really wanted to leave alive but you’d told him to stay and surely you’d never let him die… right?

Once Jisung was in front of you, you looked up at him through half closed lids, still feeling tiredness weighing your body down. You wrapped your extended hand around his wrist and yanked him towards you. His body fell foreword and he had to put his free hand next to your head on the pillows to keep himself from falling on you completely. Your lips collided in a searing kiss, teeth audibly classing together as your tongue slipped between the seam of his lips.

The intensity of your lips on his had him almost melting as an animalistic growl was ripped from his throat and swallowed by your open mouth. His tongue began to push against yours in a heated battle of control, your tongues caught in the small space between your lips as the rolled against one another. A moan left you through the exchange of saliva as your tongues remained on full display for the blonde who was hypnotized by the erotic exchange and Jisung began to climb on top of your still spent body.

Felix could feel his cock coming back to life as he watched the both of you battling for dominance. He couldn’t help himself as his hand made its way down his body and began to lightly tug at his over sensitive member, completely hypnotized by the two of you. Jisung easily found his place between your legs, the puddle of your orgasm under his knees and the release that painted your skin becoming sticky as it dried between your bodies.

Jisung continued to hold himself up with his hands planted on either side of your head as the kiss continued to get even sloppier and more intense as it went on, more groans and growls leaving the demon as he was trying desperately to regain control of the situation. You could feel that he wasn’t going to give up so easy, an idea popping into your head causing you to smirk against his lips.

One of your hands left where they’d rested on his tiny waist, making its way up to his throat and wrapping around the soft flesh and squeezing tightly. A whimper left the demon and you could feel his body shudder against yours and almost melt into you. You took the chance to take over completely, your tongue sliding into his mouth and licking every surface it could reach.

You began to roll your hips against him as he continued to slip into a more submissive headspace. He continued to let out whimpers and whines as he let you do whatever you wanted to him, becoming putty in your hands. The sounds he let out were a harsh contrast to th noises you’d gotten used to hearing. His growls and groans were definitely capable of making you weak in the knees but hearing him sounding so needy and desperate ignited a new kind of fire in you.

Finally separating your lips with Jisung chasing after your touch again, cock still leaking againt you heat and turning more of your body as messy as your kiss had gotten. You were looking up at the demon, body covered in Felix’s cum, a mix of both yours and Jisung’s saliva, and the essence of your arousal mixed with the copious amounts of pre-cum that’d began pouring out of Jisung’s pretty pink cock.

“Why don’t you be a good boy and show Lixie here how good you fuck me hmmmm?” you purred out, his jealousy still radiating off of him. You wanted to reassure him that you are genuinely more than satisfied by just him and the best way to do that for a sex demon was to let them show off and feel the truth in your words than to just hear them.

This got Jisung to perk up, the hurt puppy look leaving him as he glanced over to see Felix stroking his cock at the show that you two had just put on. He couldn’t help but take a moment to admire the blonde, sitting obediently and watching, being a good boy for you just because you’d told him to stay. The power you held over your bestfriend in just a few words had Jisung enamored and a fluttery and warm feeling began to erupt in his chest. He felt a sense of pride mixed with the weird and warm feelings as he looked back to you, the dominance in your gaze piercing through him and making him feel a bit exposed.

Feeling exposed wasn’t something Jisung was used to despite the fact that he'd always been striding around completely naked but this was a different kind of exposure. It felt like you'd tore his still beating heart from his chest and held it so delicately in your palms despite the fact that you could so easily in that moment treat the organ with no care and even squeeze it a bit harder in your clutches and end him, ruin him, break him and his soul with such an easy movement but you actively choose not to. You choose to be gentle, treat it with care, treat it with love, treat him with such care and love…

Love… Is that the feeling he feels? Does he love you?

He held onto that idea as he felt you wrap those pretty, delicate, fingers around the base of his cock and guiding his tip to your entrance. Again, your touch was gentle and kind, your eyes were soft and alluring without any harshness to them. You looked at him and watched him in a way he’d never experienced before. There was something in your gaze that was reaching out to him and he wanted so desperately to figure out how to take a hold of that and never let it go.

Jisung pushed into you slowly all the way to the hilt, pushing his hips flush against your ass as he bottomed out, a small hiss slipping from between your teeth from the pain of his size and the overstimulation. Jisung stilled for a moment and watched as you adjusted to him yet again, once you nodded he slowly began to pull out until just his tip remained inside of you. You took a moment to reach out and grab Felix’s free hand that wasn’t wrapped around his cock and guided his small hand to your lower stomach, pressing his palm against your skin. Felix looked at you confused as you held his hand in place with gently pressure and looked to Jisung again.

“Let him feel just how well you fill me up Sung~ Let him feel just how well that demon cock rearranges my guts.” your voice still purred in a sultry tone but it became a bit more airy as your arousal began to course through your veins again. Jisung didn’t need to be told twice before bottoming out again and angling his hips upward to rub against the sweet spot inside of you, causing that familiar bulge in your abdomen to push against Felix’s hand and wanton moans to begin to fall from yout lips as he set a slow but hard rhythm to his thrusts.

To say Felix was shocked was an understatement, even as your hands gripped the blankets underneath you, his hand remained and his cock continued to leak in his fist. He could feel Jisung’s cock carving out your insides and your body heating up as you got closer to your orgasm. Jisung felt you teetering on the edge too as he picked up his speed, doing exactly the right things to have your orgasm crashing into you full force before you’d expected it.

“Yes! Fuck sung! Just like that thats my good boy! I-Im gonna-” you were cut off as the force of your orgasm kncked the wind out of you and your jaw opening into a silent scream as you came all over the demon’s cock and covered his abs in your squirt. “God fuck doll- your milking my cock so good. I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum just like you beg for, like my good fucking slut!” Jisung’s voice was strained as he worked you through your high, the grip on his cock almost painful as a few more sharp thrusts were delivered straight to your thuroughly abused sweet spot and he was toppling over the edge himself.

He came inside of you hard and Felix let out a gasp as he could feel the force of Jisung’s cum from where his hand remained pressed against your abdomen and that feeling had him rfeaching his second orgasm of the night. He painted his own abdomen in hot white ropes and a deep groan ripping through him as his thighs began twitching at the intensity of it. He lazily tugged at his cock through the after shocks before collapsing backwards on the bed and Jisung pulled out of you with a whine from his own overstimulation.

Out of the three of you, Jisung recovered the quickest. He only had to take a few moments of panting to catch his breath and relaxing back against the end of the bed frame as he watched you and Felix trying to recover. You were trembling and panting heavily, eyes shut in exhaustion and felix was pretty much in the exact same boat, both of you were covered in sweat and various bodily fluids but Jisung couldn’t help but smile softly and that warm fluttery feeling returned.

“I love you” he spoke without realizing and your head snapped up off the pillows, eyes wide and meeting his own set of wide eyes. As you tried to figure out if you'd heard him right, he was launching himself off the bed and running out of the door. He slammed the door behind him as he fled, the force behind it causing the wood of the door frame it crack and splint as your body jolted at the volume of it all. “Did- did he just…” you began, still blinking away the shock.

You could hear a burst of wind in your living room, clattering of objects hitting the walls and the scraping of your furniture moving against your wooden floors. Jisung had went back to the underworld. He’d just vanished without another word. The realization settling into your gut painfully as felix jumped at the loud sounds and your bedroom door flying back open thanks to the broken doorframe unable to hold it closed. After the sounds stopped and your apartment fell eerily quiet again, felix spoke.

“He just told you he loved you… you- Y/Nnie you tamed an incubus…” felix spoke in his own form of shock, hes studied demons and other mythological creatures for years and its insanely rare for any demon to be tamed by a mortal but somehow, you, his best friend had done it. Felix met your teary, wide eyes and pulled you into a hug. Even after everything that just happened, Felix was still your bestfriend and platonic soulmate and he was still by your side as you began to cry, tears and snot surely covering the bare skin of his chest as you were overwhelmed with so many emotions you couldn't explain.

“I- I love him too lix… how- how do i show him? How do i get him to come back? I- I can’t lose him lix…” your body trembled as you sobbed harder against Felix’s body and he rubbed soothing circles into the skin of your back until you calmed down. “Why don’t you go take a shower and get all my cum off of you, then ill take one and get all… my cum off me too and then we can figure this out. You're sticky and gross.” his nose scrunched up at the sight of his mostly dry cum on your skin and his own skin covered in his half dry cum as well. You let out a laugh and wiped all the snot and tears from your face before nodding and leaving the room to take your shower.

Tag list: @clemissleepy @dontaskmemybias @venandi-143 @allysluvsworld @h0n3yj4y @skzstay-lix @linocvp1d @palindrome969 @blankdyean @stayp1ece143 @channieandhisgoonsquad @seeeeking-skz @anjian03 @hanjis-blog @loeyscock @hanjisunglover @enjaken @httpdwaekki @sunnyhonie @somehowalivelmao @cookiesnmilfx @whosanaanyway

#daisyhannie #skz smut #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #straykids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz han #han jisung x reader #han x reader #han smut #skz jisung #han jisung #han jisung smut #jisung x reader #skz fanfic #stray kids smut

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ghostwnby · 3 days

Text

Crashing Tides

Authors note: So remember about 3 or 4 ish months ago I said I was working on a surfer shop worker!Daniel + moody rich 19 year old!Max age gap romance fic? Well, surprise! After a billion years the first part of it is finally here. I'm not 100% happy with it but I decided to finally just say fuck it and bite the bullet with it. I am hoping to write more in the future about this au but in the meantime if you have any suggestions or ideas about this au please feel free to share them with me :) my asks are always open <3 otherwise, I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: language

Word count: 2,029 (2k)

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The warmth of the Australian sun beats down harshly on Daniel’s skin as he tries his best to dodge and weave through the crowded boardwalk, not wanting to run anyone over with his bike. He wipes the layer of sweat that had gathered on his forehead off on the back of his hand, cringing slightly at the sheer amount of it.

He silently regrets not taking a shower before leaving the house, but at this rate, with the amount of people blocking his way, he was going to be late.

Damn tourists.

He can hear his boss, Mark, now: "Look, who finally decided to show up! I’m glad you think this company runs on your schedule.” He rolls his eyes at the mental image of the older Australian man passive-aggressively scolding him. You would think a person who owns a beachside surf shop would be more laid-back, but no. Ever since his wife left him last summer, his boss has been nothing but a crotchety old man. And trust me, Daniel has tried many times to invite him out to bars to be his wingman for the night, but every time he offers, he gets immediately shut down and scolded for even offering.

Sorry, he was just trying to be a good co-worker and get his boss some stress relief in the form of a one-night stand with a beautiful lady.

Pulling up to the shop, Daniel rushes off his bike, hastily reaching into his bag to grab his bike lock and securing it to the pole near the side of the building. Once secure, he practically bolts into the front entrance of the shop, accidentally slamming the door open a bit too hard for his liking, causing a few customers and his coworker, Lando, to perk their heads up and look in his direction.

“I know. I know. But technically, I’m early. I still have a minute until I’m supposed to be here.” Daniel says matter-of-factly, shining a bright smile at the younger man as he walks up to the front counter that his co-worker is lounging lazily against.

“You're cutting it close, mate.” Lando comments as he glances up at the shark-themed clock on the wall. (What? His boss might be an ass, but at least he’s an ass with good taste.)

10:59 am

Lando shakes his head. “I don’t know if you want to push your luck too much. Mark is in a pissy mood today.” He explains.

Daniel rolls his eyes. “When is he not?”

Lando glances over his shoulder, making sure the door to the manager’s office is shut before whispering, “I don't know, mate; he seems grouchier than normal. Like something’s really ticked him off.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow at the younger man. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the door of the manager’s office slams open, revealing his boss on the other side.

“Speak of the devil.” Lando whispers as both of the men straighten back up as their boss steps out of his office.

"Daniel, I'm so glad you finally decided to join us for your shift that you were scheduled for.” Mark greets, scowling at him.

“Good morning to you too, Mark.” Daniel says, not bothering to hide the sarcasm that coats his words. The older man scoffs at him, rolling his eyes in a way Daniel can only describe as Oscar-worthy with how dramatic it was.

“Whatever. It’s not like I have been waiting for you all morning to get your lazy ass here.” Mark hisses, motioning his hand to the shark clock on the wall. 11:00 am. Daniel has to repress the urge to roll his eyes. He’s been there for less than 2 minutes, and he’s already having to deal with Mark’s bullshit. That has to be a new record.

"Sorry, I wasn’t here earlier. Emily decided to have a breakdown this morning about having to stay with my parents for the day.” Daniel explains half-heartedly, knowing no matter what explanation or excuse he gives the older man, he’s not going to be pleased either way.

“Well, maybe you should invest in some parenting classes then since you aren’t doing a great job at controlling your kid.” Mark sneers, “You know what? Never mind, I don’t care at this point.”

Daniel can feel his frustration growing by the second. Honestly can’t he just back off? He’s here, isn’t he? It’s not like he’s one of the only workers there, besides Lando, who does his job. If it wasn’t for the fact that the pay was nice, Daniel would have been out of there the second Mark started acting this way last summer. Plus he’s been working at the surf shop for almost 5 years now and what has he gotten for it? Nothing except for the temporary title of shift lead whenever Mark isn’t there.

As if he can sense the tension in the air between the two older men, Lando decides to speak up.

“Oh uh..by the way, Mark, this dude called earlier. I think he said his name was Jos? He said his son would be here around 11:30.”

Lando and Daniel both watch as Mark inhales deeply as if Lando’s words were the most aggravating thing he has ever heard.

“That brings me to my next point. A friend of my old man asked me to hire his son for the summer while they are vacationing here.” Mark explains. Daniel and Lando share a confused look. Mark continues, “The reason why? I have no clue. Something about how he wants his son to learn what the real world is like even though his pocket money is more than what we all make in a year combined.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow at him, “And you just agreed? Just like that? Who’s going to train him?”

Mark smirks devilishly, “Well that’s where you come in Daniel.”

“What do you mean ‘that’s where I come in’?”

“Well, you are always complaining that you’ve been here the longest and still haven’t gotten any type of raise or promotion. Well here you go, I’m promoting you to training associate. You are in charge of training the kid and also keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.”

Daniel can’t help but feel the heat of anger from earlier rise beneath his skin. “So you expect me to not only train this kid I’ve never even met but also babysit the little brat as well? What the hell do you think I am? A damn babysitter?!” He snaps, crossing his arms and scowling at the older man.

“I’m nineteen. I don’t need a babysitter.”

All three of the men snap their heads back towards the front door, only to see, who Daniel presumes is the kid Mark was mentioning, standing in the entryway. Daniel blinks as he tries to take in the teen’s appearance. He doesn’t look like any nineteen-year-old Daniel has ever seen. Sure, he has semi-smooth skin, with a blemish here and there, and an overall youthful glow about him but for some reason, something’s off about him. Maybe it’s the way his shoulders are a bit broader than his own or how his jaw is a bit too sharp for Daniel’s liking. Either way, he doesn’t like it.

“Max! I didn’t expect you to be here so soon! Is it 11:30 already?”

Daniel glances at the clock on the wall. 11:09 am.

The teen trudges over to the front counter where the others are standing and crosses his arms. “My dad said I should show up early just in case you guys were busy or something. But, by the looks of it, you aren’t and are instead talking bad about me behind my back.” Max explains, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice.

Daniel looks over at the teen, studying his face more intently now that he is standing next to him instead of a few feet away at the door. His brow is furrowed. His pale skin is tinted with a shade of pink from the harsh Australian sun. There is a collection of freckles that are scattered across his jawline and up to the middle of his cheek, with a single one lying on his upper lip. He notices now that the teen is just a bit taller than him. Not by much but enough to make Daniel even more wary than he was before.

Mark shakes his head, “Please forgive my employee, Daniel, here Max. He has had a bit of a rough morning so his mood isn’t the best right now.”

‘The only reason why I have had a rough morning is because of you jackass.’ Daniel thinks to himself as he shoots a glare at his boss.

Max rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

Daniel and Lando exchange glances once again, as if to telepathically ask each other if this is what they are really going to have to deal with for the next two and half months.

The sound of Mark clearing his throat makes the two of them look up towards their boss.

“Anyway, as I was saying. My employee, Daniel here, will be in charge of training you and just overall making sure you're settling in here nicely.” Mark explains, clearly trying to skip over the part where Daniel called Max a brat that he has to babysit.

Daniel shifts his eyes over to the teen next to him. Max doesn’t look impressed. He still has his arms crossed and his lips have formed a tight line of annoyance. Honestly, Daniel can’t blame him. If he was in his shoes, aka if he was a rich kid who probably hasn’t worked a day in his life and his parents suddenly made him get a job at a dingy old surf shop while they were on a summer vacation, he would be pissed too.

There is a beat of awkward silence that fills the air between the four.

“I’m guessing this is the part where I introduce myself?” Lando chuckles awkwardly, drawing the other’s attention to himself. Max stares at him silently, as if he is waiting for the other to say something else that will ultimately aggravate him even more.

“I’m Lando. I started working here about a year and a half ago. I go to the university just up the street. I usually work in the mornings because I have night classes.” He explains. Max doesn’t say anything, instead, he sighs, uninterested.

Lando scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uh..When I’m not working or in class you can usually find me in my dorm playing video games.” The mention of video games makes the teen’s ears perk up with interest.

“You play video games?” Max asks in a slightly less annoyed voice than before.

“Yeah! I play all sorts of games like GTA, God of War, and F123. I actually stream my gameplay on Twitch with my friends from time to time. You should join sometime. I bet it would be really fun.”

Daniel doesn’t know if it’s the heat getting to him or what but he swears he sees the faintest hint of a smile on Max’s face when Lando mentions him joining him in a gaming session.

“I’ll think about it.”

Seemingly pleased with the exchange, Mark claps his hands together like a coach trying to round up his team for a debriefing after a game. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, Max, how would you like to follow Daniel around for today to get a feel of the environment and how things work around here?”

Daniel can feel the teen’s eyes on him before he even turns his head. His stare is as cold as ice and Daniel worries that if the teen doesn’t look away, he might burn a hole through his head.

The universe must have been on his side because just as Daniel thought he would never look away, Max shifts his eyes toward Mark. The stare he gives Mark is just as cold.

“Whatever.”

“Perfect. Now let’s get started.”

#f1 fic #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #maxiel #formula 1 #red bull f1 #mclaren #lando norris

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whitedarkmoonflower · 2 days

Text

Dream

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: @foxyanon this is for you. Your request was absolutely amasing and I just hope I've done justice to it. 💖My warmest thanks to lovely @arcielee for beta reading, you are awsome and your comments literally made my day 😘

Warnings: angst, longing, some lowkey SMUT 18+ nothing explicit, use of she/her pronouns.

Word Count: 2,6 K

Inspired by the The Apparition by Sleep Token

Why are you never real? Whenever you appear You leave me with that grace I am trembling with fear But I know that you will disappear Just as I awake Whisper in my ear Well, I believe Somewhere in the past Something was between You and I, my dear And it remains With me to this day No matter what I do This scar will never fade

He awoke with a silent cry trembling on his lips, hands instinctively reaching to wipe tears from his wet cheeks, his breath panting as if he were drowning in his own sobs. He had dreamt of her. Again.

The sensation lingered in his fingertips: the soft touch of her palm against his, the echo of her laughter wrapping around him like a warm summer breeze on a cool evening. He couldn’t recall her face anymore. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure she was real; just a fleeting memory or fantasy conjured by the ghosts of his past, taunting him anew.

And yet from the moment he had set his foot on Dunholm’s rocky ground, he dreamt of her almost nightly. The sweetness of their shared moments intertwined with the bitter ache of longing, all overshadowed by the burning flame of guilt for having failed her, that made him wake up with a cry, forehead covered in sweat and heart racing.

Sihtric’s eyes wandered the small room, slowly adjusting to the darkness, disturbed only by the faint glow of the waning moon. With a deep sigh ripping through him, Sihtric swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself up. His bare feet brought him to the window. The rough uneven wooden floor was a constant reminder of the past times indelible from the deepest corners of his mind, of times long ago when his feet pounded the very same wooden floor, with each step carving the memory of these paths into his very being.

The dreams were too real, clinging to him with all the colours, smells and sounds, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. A taste of remorse and longing.

Sihtric lifted his hands, shielding his eyes with his palms and gently rubbing them, as though attempting to cleanse himself of the haunting impressions left by the dream. He had seen her so clearly, the colourful images spinning around in his head.

Her hair loose and billowing in the wind, her merry laughter a bright messenger of joy as she skipped through the meadow, the gentle fingers of the rising sun caressing her glowing skin.

She was the light in the darkness, the breeze of the fresh air in his lungs. Her laughter was a thread through the haze of his crippled existence. Just as the damp earth after a rainfall carries the scent of rebirth, her aroma was that of a promise of a new beginning – a gentle mix of sweet wild berries and midsummer flowers woven into her hair.

His body and mind ached for her, longing for their fingers to intertwine as he would willingly follow her wherever she led.

And then the kiss – his very first. Fingers trembling, heart pounding against his chest like a wild drum. She leaned against the sturdy trunk of the oak tree by the river, the tranquil sound of water splashing against the sandy bank filling the air. Pressing his palm against the rough bark, he sought to steady his racing heart, drawing strength from the solid presence of the majestic giant. The softness of her pale skin thrilled him as his other hand gently touched her cheek, tenderly guiding her gaze towards him.

“I… I want to kiss you,” he whispered softly, his breath catching in his throat, drowning in the depths of two sparkling eyes, pleading for his touch.

“What are you waiting for?” A sweet, lighthearted giggle echoed around him, and he released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. With closed eyes, his dry, chapped lips timidly brushed against her soft ones, like a fragile whisper dancing on the edge of a sigh, like two lonely travellers adrift in the vast expanse of a starlit night, seeking refuge and salvation.

“Sihtric ...” his name rolled off her lips, mingling with a soft whimper as his both palms cupped her face, their breaths picking up.

Sihtric's fingertips traced down to his lips, pausing there. He stood motionless for a moment, leaning against the window frame, arms crossing over his chest and breath catching in the cool night air as he attempted to summon her face from the depths of his memory. Yet it remained elusive and all he found was shadows dancing in his mind's eye. A silent curse escaped his parted lips. He had long ago banished these memories, fortified them behind a wall of self assured certainty that there was nothing he could do, that it was for the best.

The mocking grin of the moon looked down at him from the height of his throne in the nightly sky. It sent shivers down Sihtric’s spine.

"I didn't abandon her, I was sent away," Sihtric whispered, the words barely audible over the night's gentle breeze. "Away... away... away..." echoed through the empty yard, his own voice a cruel taunt. "I inquired about her in the village after the fall of Dunholm, but no one knew anything.”

The sound of his fist connecting with the wooden wall shattered the serene silence of the night. The impact reverberating through the stillness like a thunderclap – hollow and darksome.

Yes, he had searched for her. A solitary visit to the nearby village where he knew she hailed from, greeted by anxious faces hastily retreating into their ramshackle homes, peering cautiously through the safety of their shuttered windows. The presence of Danes had always brought fear and uncertainty to them.

He had inquired about her at the small, dusty inn, amidst discussions of purchasing horses and timber to aid Ragnar in repairing the damaged gates. The host, suspiciously eyeing them, poured ale and swiftly pocketed the silver Uhtred had tossed his way.

Sihtric wasn’t sure what he had feared more: finding her happily married, her eyes denying him recognition and filled with fear, or discovering her waiting for him, unable to offer her anything. Nevertheless, he asked, quickly finding satisfaction in the host's indifferent shrug, as he explained that many had left in recent years due to meagre harvests, and there were no women matching Sihtric’s description in the village.

It was that one moment as they mounted their horses, Sihtric thought he heard her voice, calling his name. He cast a wary glance around the deserted square, the only sound a mocking crow's cry echoing through the stillness. He shook his head, as if trying to dispel a vision, before leaving his past behind like a worn boot—ten long years ago.

And now he stood once more in this place—Lord of Dunholm, a title that sent a shiver down his spine with each utterance. The shadows began to shift, the night's veil slowly lifting to reveal the faint glimmer of the sun lingering behind the horizon.

“I... I crave you... it's something I can't conceal... I've never seen anyone so beautiful..." his breath grew ragged, the silkiness of her flawless skin beneath his fingertips stirring an excitement unknown to him.

"Oh God," she gasped, her body arching against the soft blanket of moss and grass he had carefully laid her upon, his clumsy fingers seeking their way to her core, hungry lips stealing the soft moan escaping her.

"Please, tell me to stop," he pleaded almost desperately, voice quivering, unsure, even scared of where this journey would lead them. Yet unable to release her, unable to tear his gaze from her.

“Don’t… please, don’t stop,” a shaky moan from her parted lips forced a low groan from him, his fingers dipping in her hot tightness. “It feels so good, too good… Sihtric, please, I want to feel more of it. I have never felt anything like this before,” she whispered through panting breaths.

He had never touched anyone like this before; his limited knowledge gleaned from overhearing drunken chatter around firesides or hushed conversations in the kitchens as staying unnoticed had become almost second nature to him.

His own breathing getting more and more uneven with each quivering whimper, each soft moan leaving her lips; he watched her body responding to his touch, her breasts heaving, gaze getting glazy and eyes rolling back into her head.

She seemed almost otherworldly to him—her eyes curious and trusting, unburdened by fear or suspicion, her smile so radiant it felt like the warmth of the first sun rays in spring melting the snow of his desolation.

What had he done to deserve the gods sending her his way? A vision on an early morning, peacefully gathering flowers in the solitary meadow by the river where he had brought the horses to graze for the first time. His resort, a ray of light, piercing the dark loneliness of his soul, keeping him from drowning in it.

Each time he returned, fear gripped his heart, his eyes scanning the secluded meadow, his back against the lonely oak by the riverbank. What if she didn't come? But she always did, and his heart danced with joy, bathed in the soothing warmth of her genuine smile.

It had been so long ago. He had been just a boy, falling in love for the first time in his life.

Sihtric rubbed his sleepy eyes. Not a day passed without him believing he had caught a glimpse of her—whether in the shadows of the long corridors, the dark corners of the spacious great hall, or even his own bedroom. He knew his mind played tricks on him, yet each time his eyes seemed to capture that fleeting silhouette; he couldn't resist leaping to his feet, reaching out only to grasp empty air.

Hastily dressing in his breeches and boots, he tugged on a linen shirt while descending the stairs, snatching his leather tunic on the way out. Urged by an inexplicable force, he allowed his feet to guide him to the stables where he mounted his unsaddled mare.

"Open the gates!" his voice boomed across the yard, jolting the drowsy guards into action. They hurried to obey their lord's command, their eyes wide with surprise as they watched Sihtric spur his horse into a gallop.

The old, majestic oak tree welcomed Sihtric with a soft rustle of its green leaves in the wind. Leaning his head against the mighty trunk, he pressed his palms against its weathered bark, seeking solace and reassurance in the tranquil serenity of its solid presence, just as he had done before.

“Oh Sihtric,” she moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders, as he slowly forced himself inside her. The feeling of her tight walls gradually parting, wrapping around him and letting him in so overwhelming, he was afraid he would pass out.

Heart frantically beating against the cage of his chest, he froze, breath withheld, seeing tears pearling in the corners of her closed eyes.

“Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?”

A vehement shake of the head, her hips rising to meet him, was the only answer, and he leaned in, trembling lips brushing against her parted ones to kiss away the deep sigh drifting from them.

“I love you, Sihtric!”

“I love you too, and I always will,” he breathed, his hips starting to move, meeting hers with every slow thrust, breath quickening, like the rush of a rising tide.

He had never put much stock in the tales his mother whispered under the veil of night, her gentle hands pulling their only blanket tighter around him, shielding him from the cold. Stories of beautiful angels, guiding lost souls back to the light—until he encountered one. An angel in disguise, wandering the earth and plucking flowers from the meadow.

She arched her back, enveloping him in the embrace of her fragile arms, and he buried his face in the curve of her neck, drinking in her sweet, intoxicating scent, his deep moans mingling with her soft whimpers.

He had meant every word of it. Without a shadow of doubt clouding his mind, he had made a promise—a promise destined to be shattered in the days that followed, as the Norns had already woven the threads of his fate, laughing over his youthful resolve.

Tears blurred his vision as he made his way back to Dunholm. He had waited until the first rays of the sun, knowing it was futile, knowing she wouldn’t come, as it was not the right day. There had been no goodbyes, no sweet kisses sealing the promise to return—just a lonely heart carved into the thick bark of the old oak tree, the silent witness to their happiness.

The sound of a dry branch cracking beneath feet jolted Sihtric, prompting him to turn his head.

“My lord, are you alright?” a slightly concerned voice inquired, and Sihtric's moist eyes met two sparkling, mismatched pools of brown and blue.

“I... I’m...” he stammered, his own uncertainty mirrored in the growing fear in those eyes as they darted down to his chest, fixating on the pendant of Thor's hammer hanging there.

Before he could utter another word, two gentle hands released the wild flowers they were holding, allowing them to scatter to the ground as the young girl spun on her heels and began to flee.

"Wait, please! I mean you no harm," Sihtric finally found his voice, but the girl paid no heed.

Sihtric remained rooted to the spot, unable to shake off the shock that held him captive, his gaze tracing the slender silhouette as it vanished from view. Eventually, he stirred, though the girl had already disappeared into the depths of the meadow and the forest beyond.

Driven by an inexplicable compulsion, he followed. Though he didn't want to frighten her, his feet seemed to move of their own accord, propelling him forward through the thorny underbrush. Long branches reached out like bony arms, clawing at his bare skin and leaving behind bloody scratches and bruises, yet he hardly noticed. Emerging from the forest, he beheld a crooked house nestled amidst a small garden.

Approaching cautiously, Sihtric scanned his surroundings, searching for signs of life.

Engrossed in your work, you hadn't noticed anyone approaching. The weeds had begun to overtake your small carrot bed, a task long overdue for attention. A cough caught your attention, prompting you to straighten up and glance over, wondering who had ventured from the village to your secluded home.

You both just stood there, eyeing each other with disbelief and bewilderment. Sihtric shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other, unable to tear his gaze away from you, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Here you were—his ghost, his dream, the most beautiful face he had ever seen, his most cherished memory locked away from his consciousness due to its unbearable pain.

Your fingers released the hoe, letting it slip from your grasp to fall to the ground at your feet. Covering your eyes with your hands, hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you staggered, struggling to maintain control over your wobbly knees.

In two long strides, Sihtric was beside you, his strong arms encircling your shoulders, providing support. Torn between the desire to push him away and to melt into his embrace, you remained rooted in place, sobs wracking your body as he enveloped you in his warm presence, like a comforting blanket.

"Gods, you are here. You have always been here," Sihtric whispered, his lips grazing your hair. "My love… I… I've never stopped loving you, and I never will. Will you ever believe that? Will you ever forgive me?"

"Mom, in the meadow where you always send me to pick flowers, I met a Dane today," a girl's voice rang out, as she appeared in the doorframe of the old house, freezing in her tracks as her eyes widened at the scene before her.

"She is mine. Isn't she?" Sihtric asked, tears starting to flow freely down his cheeks, yet he made no move to wipe them away. He didn't need your confirmation.

With a soft thud, he allowed himself to sink to the ground, his knees meeting the damp earth of the garden as he buried his face into your belly, arms enveloping your frame. The fearless warrior and the Lord of Dunholm cried, unashamed of his tears, while your fingers gently stroked his hair.

Comment or write to me if you want to be added to the tag list.

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama

@verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07

@mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw @siimonesvensson @sigtryggrswifey @ladyinred2248

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic

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redjayson · 2 days

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oh boy, now that chapter 17 is posted I can talk about some of the extras that I want to write in full at some point! since that’s rather far off in the future (and probably a lot of work when second-hand alibis still has its own Incredible Amount of Work left), have some quick and dirty snippets/ideas of what they might look like.

first one is a "su xiyan lives" spin-off:

exactly what it says on the tin. shen yuan makes a deal with the system (which would have to be somewhat less strict in this scenario) or he gets his hands on a macguffin or something and manages to make it to the luo river in time to help su xiyan through luo binghe’s birth and save her life afterwards

that, then, leaves them both desperately injured with a (somewhat unhappy) baby in the middle of winter when huan hua is undoubtably searching for them and their only allies probably think shen yuan and su xiyan betrayed them

shen yuan has the bright idea to lead them down the river to the washerwoman who was luo binghe’s adopted mother in proud immortal demon way. she’s kind enough to take them in, softened immensely by the baby and by how injured and grief-stricken shen yuan and su xiyan are

shen yuan and su xiyan slap up every (subtle) barrier and disguise and warding talisman that they can possibly think of to help hide them from any huan hua searchers, before collapsing from the expenditure of energy. shen yuan possibly uses his altered-but-no-longer-untested body-stasis talisman on su xiyan, who is predictably Not Amused by the recklessness of shen yuan having used this on himself, but it gives them more time to handle the poison while also allowing su xiyan’s qi to replenish itself and hold off the effects of the poison trying to kill her while they find an actual cure for it (assuming shen yuan's macguffin/system deal wasn't enough)

they both heal. they help around the house as much as possible, and gift the washerwoman with as much money as she’ll take from them, which is far less than she deserves for all the kindness she’s showing them. eventually, they’re healed enough to begin moving again, and they judge that it’s likely too dangerous to stay this close to huan hua any longer.

before they go, though, there’s the matter of tianlang-jun. they debate for days—is it too dangerous to try and check on him? do they think zhuzhi-lang was sealed as well? what happens if they’re captured by huan hua? what will happen to binghe? (yes, luo binghe ended up with the same name as canon. shen yuan only suggested the “binghe” portion of the name, but su xiyan came up with and ran with the “luo” portion of it, because it’s far too conspicuous for a child to be running around with her surname, isn’t it? shen yuan, twin brother of shen qingqiu, keeps his mouth shut.)

in the end, they decide that they’ll take their chances now, while there’s still enough chaos and confusion from the end of the battle + setting up how the guard on tianlang-jun is going to look long-term for them to get close. better yet, if they can find zhuzhi-lang, then they won’t even have to get all the way to bailu mountain.

whatever happens, it ends up being a bit of a mess. zhuzhi-lang is not happy, but shen yuan has spent years being one of his favorite people, and both he and su xiyan are still moving pretty gingerly when they manage to find him. in the end, zhuzhi-lang believes what they tell him about the betrayals committed against them, too, and agrees to carry the news to tianlang-jun (and plead their case, should he prove unwilling to listen).

after that…su xiyan and shen yuan beat feet out of huan hua territory, taking binghe (and possibly the washerwoman!) with them to live a life as rogue cultivators. cue years of sneaking back into bailu forest to visit zhuzhi-lang and tianlang-jun and try to figure out the best way to help tianlang-jun escape. shen yuan helps zhuzhi-lang get ahold of some sun and moon dew mushrooms, but warns that unless they experiment wildly and are also exceedingly lucky, the mushroom body will fail pretty quickly with a demon inhabitant instead of a human one.

I imagine that this au would either end up as a su xiyan/tianlang-jun/shen yuan throuple, or zhuzhi-lang might finally shoot his shot with shen yuan and actually get somewhere with it. I lean toward su xiyan/tianlang-jun/shen yuan, just because there’s only so many times you can pretend to be married with a child, spending literal years working toward a common goal and in close proximity and with shared fondness, before you fall into an actual relationship. tianlang-jun is on board with this when it’s explained to him—shen yuan is great! (the wife-beam strikes again, it just took a little bit longer with tianlang-jun because he was so focussed on su xiyan)

also it’s deeply funny to imagine shen yuan reuniting with shen jiu (+ yue qingyuan) and cang qiong mountain sect and boldly gesturing toward binghe and declaring, “this is my son.” yeah, this carbon copy of su xiyan, with eyes that are notably not hers or shen yuan’s? suuure. the other peak lords aren’t going to argue, though, because shen qingqiu looks way too willing to fight them (read: yell at them) about it, and that’s almost never worth it. plus, like, what do they care?

shen qingqiu, notably, doesn’t believe that luo binghe is shen yuan’s biological son, but apparently he is shen yuan’s adopted son (son by marriage?), so it’s really all the same thing. he’s doing some math about the tianlang-jun situation (as is yue qingyuan) and not liking the answers that he’s come up with, but if shen yuan wants to keep the child, then let him. better to allow a half-demon on his mountain than to lose his brother again.

shang qinghua is losing his shit in the background. you did what with my protagonist’s parents?! my cabbages plot!!!

#fic: second-hand alibis #my fic #shen twins au #shen twins extras #svsss

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thebisexualdogdad · 2 days

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City lights - sugar baby!Evan Buckley x male!reader

*A/N: as requested sugar baby Buck is back!*

“Looks like you had a good day,” you smile at Buck as he enters your room, two hotel workers following him with their hands full of shopping bags.

“You gave me your credit card in New York City of course I did,” he laughs.

The workers set the bags down and you hand them each a huge tip which they thank you for.

“Have a good evening Mr Y/L/N and Mr Buckley,” one of them tells you as they leave.

“Look at this view,” Buck says in awe, now standing in front of the window that overlooks the city.

“It is beautiful but I much prefer looking at you,” you reply, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, kissing his cheek.

“How was your meeting?” He smiles, “I know I already told you but you look so handsome in this suit.”

“Thank you love and we closed the deal,” you say with your hands grazing over his stomach.

“I knew you would,” he sighs when a hand travels down to his thigh right past where you know he wanted you.

“So what did you do today? Besides spending my money,” you tease, kissing under his ear.

“I went for a run in Central Park, I had brunch at that restaurant you recommended and then I bought all new clothes for our trip to Greece next week including some new speedos,” he tells you.

“I can't wait to see you in them,” you laugh, ghosting your hand over his growing bulge while the other slips under his shirt.

“Y/N,” he gasps.

“What is it baby?”

“Please touch me.”

“Like this?” You ask, grabbing his bulge through his pants.

He moans and is growing impatient as you begin slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

You're kissing his neck, running your hands over his abs and up to his chest, squeezing his large pecs.

The sun is setting and the city lights are becoming brighter making the view even more stunning as Bucks moans fill your ears.

“I need you so bad,” he sighs, rubbing his ass against you.

“Anything you want baby,” you tell him, pulling the zipper down on his pants and pulling his cock out of his underwear.

You stroke him with one hand while the other returns to his chest to toy with his nipples, twisting and tugging until he is fully hard.

His eyes are screwed shut, enjoying the feeling of you touching him when suddenly you pull away from him.

“Y/N?” He huffs upset.

“One second love, I just need to grab the lube,” you chuckle, stepping over to the dresser you put all your personal belongings in.

Buck is whining and you couldn't get back to him possibly fast enough.

He pushes his pants down around his ankles as you open the bottle of lube and squeeze some onto your fingers, Buck gasping when the cold gel coats his hole.

He braces himself on the window sill, moaning loudly when one finger pushes inside first and then after a few pumps a second.

His knees start to tremble as you take your time spreading him open.

“Fuck Y/N, I need your cock,” he mumbles under his breath.

“What was that?” You whisper in his ear.

“I need your cock,” he shouts and before he knows it your fingers are being replaced and he's being stretched to the brim.

His cries out and his grip on the window sill tightens as you find a steady pace with your hips.

He tries to close his eyes again but one of your hands go to his throat, “keep your eyes open baby don't want this view to go to waste do we?”

His mouth hangs opens, ungodly noises coming out of him with your hand gently squeezing his throat.

His cock swings around, slapping his stomach and his thighs while you're thoroughly fucking him.

“Do you wanna cum Evan?” You ask him and he nods, “I need to hear you say it dear.”

“I wanna cum, please let me cum,” he begs.

“Then cum for me,” you order, choking him harder.

Buck quickly strokes himself, cumming all over the window when you hit just the right spot inside him.

You loosen your grip on his throat while he rides out his high, the city lights now shining bright in the night.

Hearing Buck moan your name pushes you over the edge as well, filling him up which makes his knees buckle.

You slow your movements, Buck leaning on the window for support as wave after wave of his orgasm hits him.

He groans when you pull out of him a few moments later, cum dripping onto the floor.

“God Y/N no one has ever fucked me like you do,” he smiles.

“I told you the night we met that I would always take care of you Evan,” you say, turning him around so you could kiss him deeply, “now how about I order us some dinner from room service, you're gonna need the energy because I'm far from done with you.”

#911 imagine #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x male reader #x male reader #fic

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jujutsukgojo · 2 days

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My gifts to you

feitan portor x reader

Summary: You knew him for years for only moments at a time. Yet, you take it upon yourself to love and mourn him anyway, even when the world won't. tw: light smut, slight yandere feitan, spoilers, mentions of murder, light angst, fluff(?), injuries, cheating, time skips an: didn't mean for it to be this long. Feitan is a bit tricky for me but oh well :) kind of inspired by criminal minds 'no way out'. 10.8k

“If you tie it like this, it should stay, okay?” You tap the boy’s foot. Although he is smaller than you in height, his feet are bigger. It’s quite comical but you don’t dare laugh. In this blasted city, you’d be bound to die for such a thing. Especially if you laugh at someone with crazy hair and carries a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.

He says something in a foreign language that you can’t understand. If you are correct, it may be inverted Japanese. In the books that one kid collects, there is a country, Japan, where the common language originates. Since the common language isn’t his mother tongue, it makes you wonder where he’s from and why he’s here.

The boy stands up to his full, but short, height. You sit on random rubble and look up at him, waiting for what he’ll do next. Will he call over Phinks or even bring Uvogin? He hangs out with Phinks mainly but who knows these days.

Instead of swinging the bat at you or calling over his friends, he pats your head awkwardly. You don’t make any sudden movements or noises. The boy leaves right after. A sigh escapes your lips after he leaves you behind.

What's his name again? Feitain?

__________

In your hut, you slightly stir the food that sizzles in the pan you found. It’s rare to come across tomatoes and eggs but you managed this time. The smell is mouth watering. You hope no one else can smell it.

As much as you want to live elsewhere, this is what you settle for at the moment. In another world, you’d be out of this city and somewhere clean and safe. Like the church or something. No, even better than the church. You’ve heard of the outside where there are bright flashing lights and diamonds and pearls on people’s necks. There are flowers of all colors out there. Different shapes, smells, and meanings, they’re all beautiful. You hear that food isn’t scavenged but bought or given to people without a price.

People said they’ve seen the safety of children your age that play without a care. There are parents for the lost kids and doctors for the injured. Clean clothes and showers on the regular. You can even see the sun clearly and the big, round moon that doesn't bring out the wolves in men.

There are pastors and priests that don’t turn people away, either. Hell, you have even wondered if there were schools there that allow everyone to get in. You're sure that you are reading and doing math wrong. How embarrassing.

Finally done, you place the food on a plastic plate you found. You made sure to wipe the grime off the plate and rinsed it with clean water before using it. Even though you can just eat out of the pan, you want to seem sophisticated like the outside. They don't eat out of pans or use dirty plates.

The food steams and is welcoming. Without a lot of utensils, you pick at it with your hands. It burns at first but you’re too hungry. The flavor bursts in your mouth. Even without the proper seasonings, it’s still heaven. You haven’t eaten in a while so you’ll take what you can get.

Suddenly, the boy, Feitan, enters your hut. You gasp and protectively cover your food. He brings his foot out. His shoe, which he stole, is untied again. You swallow the substance and point out, “I taught you how to tie them.”

“Tie.”

“I taught you.” You set your plate down.

“Tie.” You roll your eyes and pat your thighs. He walks over to you and places his dirt caked shoe on your lap. Slowly, you tie them.

“There, see? Come on now, you need to learn. A little boy can’t grow without tying his shoes.”

“I’m not little boy.” You give a breathy chuckle. “Of course you are, honey.”

He leans in close to your face. “I’m older than you.”

...He does hang out with Phinks, who is a couple years older than you. In fact, it is rare to see them apart. Is it possible that it’s true? Is Phinks the type to be friends with someone who is younger?

Curious, you ask, “Then why are you so short?” His eyes widened in shock. Then, strangely, he laughs while patting your head harshly. Studying his face revealed what looks like the beginning of a sinister smile.

He looks at your plate and sits down in front of you. You’re both on the dirt floor.

“Give me.” You scoff and snap at him. “No! Find your own!”

The little beast decided that the two of you should ‘share’. He smacks on his food, making you want to punch him repeatedly. He’s gaunt and bony, but not really bad like last time. His face has a tiny bit of roundness to it.

“Stop staring.” He inhales a tomato. “You look better than last time.”

“Better?” He cocks his head to the side. The remnants of the tomato smeared a little on his cheek.

“Yeah, healthier.” He stares at you for a second. “Thanks.” His accent is thick, and you still can’t place it. Nevertheless, you understand. Afterwards, much to your surprise, he sleeps in your hut now that his belly is full. Satisfied and strangely not afraid, you follow suit. It’s nice to have a friend, however strange.

You are barely awake, sleep still heavy in your eyes, when you see him pop up. Drool is crusted on his cheek, and he rubs his eyes. He yawns and then spots you next to him. Feitan eyes the entry of the hut then back at you. He puts the only cover you have on you then pets your head.

Before he leaves, he places his bat in your hand. Feitan secures the entry as he exits the hut.

_____________

It’s been years since you and Feitan have talked. You've gotten familiar with him but when Sarasa had died in such a disrespectful and gruesome way, he withdrew. In the meantime, you waited for him and studied a power you discovered. No matter the eyes that were always on you, you didn’t care about the mysterious and hidden audience.

You don’t know what it’s called but it started when you witnessed some kid about to get her ass handed to her by some thugs. The man had moved a pair of scissors without using his hands. They aimed right towards her and in a moment of instinct, you rushed to push her out of the way. Unfortunately, the scissors stabbed you in the shoulder.

It was then did you feel the rush of a force so strong, that it knocked everyone away from you. A faint white light that glowed from your skin that only your eyes could see. As you looked around in shock, you saw that same glow coming from that man and his friends.

You were gasping when you fell to your knees. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t be here!” The girl your age ran for her life and left you behind. In a moment of fear, you call out to her to help you. You were so afraid; you couldn't tell if the screams were hers or yours. Given the situation, you were too rattled, terrified and hurt, to focus.

The men shook for a second then got up to face you. The blood from your shoulder wasn’t stopping its flow. Crimson red stained your clothes and the ground. It was all so strange, such an unusual feeling of adrenaline that you couldn’t help but memorize. Almost as if the world had finally made sense. Every single thing became so much clearer to your dismay.

The men came towards you with malicious intent. While putting pressure on your injury, you managed to kick one of their legs, causing them to buckle and hurt his knee. He screamed in agony.

“G-get away!” You try to stand. The press of your hand on the wound isn’t helping. Is it supposed to bleed this much? It hit your shoulder, but did it nick something?

You need to stop it, to heal and get away from them. In this city, people like you are in danger from men like them. If you don’t get away, you’ll end up like Sarasa. She was never really close to you. She was a nice girl who always looked for video tapes, so you'd help her from time to time. Yet, her death scarred everyone since it was so close to home. And now, you no doubt are facing the exact same situation. Wrong place, wrong time.

Same fate.

You fell back on the ground and looked at the sky. It has always been so dirty, just like the city due to pollution. Still so young, you know you won’t see what it really looks like. In the corner of your eye, you spot something green. A small clover with four leaves.

One time, an old man told a story of how four-leaf clovers are a sign of good luck. By the intense feeling and pressure of your eyes, you know it’s not true. Pain in all ways makes tears fall from your eyes. Lips wobbling at how unfair everything is and that you will never see the sun. The outside must really be heaven, and for someone so young who hasn’t committed a sin, you are wondering if you can go.

Suddenly, flowers that you never knew blossomed around you. The soft petals touched your filthy skin and got rid of the aches. The blood on your shoulder faded from view as well as the pain. A soft and beautiful hum whispered in your ear. You truly believed it to be in your head, an imagination of paradise as you leave. Heaven, they call it. You must be close to the outside world then.

This must be it, you thought. There was no pain from a strike or fear. Just closed eyes and peace. Something you know you couldn’t get in the atrocious city.

It ends. You were shocked as the beautiful flowers disappeared. Heaven, would you reject someone?

The men didn’t hurt you. The one whose knee was broken was able to move his leg. His red hair kind of glowed in the sun, and brown eyes were wide. He muttered a soft ‘thank you’ and walked away without a limp. His friends followed.

After that, you had realized that your ability wasn’t anything like scissors or something scary. It was to heal and be healed.

Although after immediately learning this, you didn't go out of your way to find the source of the screams in the direction the people went. First was the girl, then the group of men. After what you went through, it didn't seem like a good idea.

Feitan, somehow, got wind of it. Now in his later teen years you both estimate, he sits still and points to his arm. There’s a gnarly gash oozing blood. You wonder how he’s not feeling this and if he is, how he isn’t even fazed.

You gently pick up his arm and inspect it. He's thin but has clear definition in his arms. You haven’t seen him in so long that you are surprised by his growth. Hell, he’s taller now. Still short, but at least he grew.

In a jar, you take a premade petal. This is a way for you to save energy and reach people when you physically can’t tend to. Acting as a pill, you make sure that people can get infections out. For some reason, illnesses and infections are particularly tricky and tiring for you.

“Eat this, Feitan.” He frowns. “No.” You sigh. “It’s infected. You need to eat this so I can heal it right.”

“It’s not.”

Rolling your eyes you bring his wound to his face. “This, this is infected. It's literally oozing pus.” How long did this go on? Was he really that hesitant to just come and see you?

He growls and takes the delicate petal and places it in his mouth. “Stop pouting.”

“Not pouting. It’s nasty.” He’s not wrong. It has a bitter taste and when chewed, a slimy texture. The color of the disintegrating petal leaves a stain in the mouth as well. If not for the benefits, no one would even bother. They'd be just as offended as Feitan.

The pus stops and clears up. “Alright, this’ll leave a scar.”

You blow on your hand so that flowing blossoms surround him. Beautiful shades of pink and white go through his hair. With a gentle caress, you see the flurries touch his wound. It starts to encourage his own healing.

As much as you want to do the full thing, you’re tired. All day you’ve been working and collecting payments. Not to mention facing the disappointment of them being useless. You want to kick yourself for not getting paid first. But the sight of those grateful people and healed kids softens your heart.

Soon, it stops once the injury becomes manageable. You’re about to wrap it when a hand stops you. “What’s this?”

“Feitan, I'm tired. You caught me at a bad time.” You try to move your hand but he stops you. He's a lot stronger than you remember. “Heal.”

His fluency isn’t the greatest still.

“I’m tired! Just let it heal the rest of the way.” No matter how much you try to yank your hand away, his grip is too strong. “Please, Feitan...”

Surprisingly, he lets go and from what you can see, the subtle white glow appears and heals him the rest of the way, leaving small flames. “Feitan...what was that?”

He rolls his eyes and plops down on a chair. He says nothing and just relaxes, or at least that’s what he’s trying to make it seem like. It has been a while since you’ve seen him, but that doesn’t make you blind to his behaviors…sometimes.

“As a transmuter, I can heal a little by using enhancer,” He looks at you suspiciously. “You know nothing about nen?”

“Nen?” You put the gauze and other items in a black bag. It was found in the safe zone by the church. Apparently, it belonged to a doctor from the outside. The bag had all kinds of necessities. Gauze, medicine, some syringes, disinfectant, a thermometer, all kinds of stuff that you’ve had to use sparingly. What you save in the bag, you make up for with your ability.

He smacks his lips and calls you a ‘dumb brat’. “You use nen but don’t know it?”

Sighing, you ask, “What is nen, Feitan?”

“What you do. Use your aura and stuff.” His arms are crossed, and he looks at you expectantly. You gather that he likes knowing things you don’t. It’s like a weak power trip.

But it is nice to finally have a name and explanation for it. And that’s what he did this time. Visiting you for a moment just to pick with you while teaching you something you should have known.

“Wait, if you could do that, why’d you come here?” He just shrugs.

------

When you see him again, he brings his friends along. You immediately recognize some of them. Phinks, who ran with Feitan, the boy who always collected books, and Uvogin, the giant who was always claiming territory and beating people up.

Feitan should be twenty now. It’s hard to tell since he looks youthful. He points to his friend, the boy with the books, and orders, “Heal.”

“You can do it, Feitan, remember?” You were in the middle of cleaning when he and the rest of his posse pop up. They look flustered and a little worse for wear.

“Heal.” He always does crap like this. You roll your eyes at first. The body they carry tugs on your strings a bit.

“Fine. Put him on the table.” Thankfully, it’s cleaned, and a new wrapping has been placed on it. Gently, the man is put on it. You spot the cross tattoo on his forehead. Ah, that’s where Feitan has been. Lately, there’s been whispers of the Phantom Troupe. Merciless killers and thieves from Meteor City that have been gaining respect over the years. Your opinion of them isn’t the greatest but it also isn’t the worst. You appreciate them for standing up for Meteor City, but their methods are questionable.

You sigh and begin to undress the boy with the cross. “Is that necessary?”

You continue to pull off his clothes, not bothering to answer the question the girl asked. If she can’t understand why you need to remove his clothes, then that’s on her. She scoffs after another female voice answers her question.

You finally see his wound. Feitan can heal himself to a degree, but you don’t think this guy can. The gash is deep and sewed with makeshift stitches. There’s no nen involved, surprisingly. Given that Feitan is an avid user, you thought his friends would be keen on it too.

“He’s a specialist. Enhancer techniques are harder for him.” Phinks spoke. He must've understood your confusion.

“And the stitches?” You gently investigate the area. It’s an angry red around it and, like you suspected, infected. It wasn’t properly taken care of. You begin to remove the stitches. You wonder what the thread is made of and how long this has been going on.

“He,” Phinks points to Uvogin. “And him,” He then points to another large man with long ears. “Thought they could do it. Normally, Machi heals us but they were away from her. Her stitches would have helped him but not any infections.”

“Ah, well this requires more than I thought.” You touch the ground and out comes a beautiful swirl of flowers. Underneath the moving petals is a blooming sunflower. It picks the guy up so he rests on it. The bed of the flower glows softly and becomes warm. His once wincing face is now peaceful. His injury is slowly closing and the red is beginning to turn pink.

“The downside of this is that it takes a while. It’ll be all healed up in about an hour or so.”

“ An hour?” Uvogin, who has abandoned his afro and traded it for long standing hair. “Feitan, I thought you said she was good? We could’ve gone to that one guy and got it done right then and there.”

“She’s the best. Wait.” His hands are in his pockets and he moves. Feitan looks around and touches whatever he pleases. You try not to focus on his compliment. You wonder if the reason he moved from your line of sight is because he got embarrassed. If so, you won’t tease him. The Troupe are killers, afterall.

You start to feel the weight of your nen. This technique requires more effort than the others. Feitan explained it to you but you never did get the hang of it. You just know what to do instinctively. You were proud that you could do any of this without a teacher.

What you’re sure of is that this man, whatever his name is, is giving you a crap ton of money after this or there’ll be hell to pay.

You feel something tickling the side of your face. The wrapper is red and unopened. You take the energy bard gratefully. “Thank you, Feitan.”

A couple of the Troupe members complain about the time. Machi or Mochi or whatever, the pink haired one, especially complains and criticizes for some reason. You have never seen this person before in your life yet here she is pouting.

“You okay?” You see the blond boy with big blue eyes study you closely. He moves closer to your face. A smile never leaves his face. Before you can answer, Feitan, who hasn’t left your side since you ate the bar, answers for you.

“She’s fine. I’m watching her.”

You hear a couple of snickers. Feitan glares daggers at the offenders. You take a deep breath and ignore the friends who decided to crowd inside your hut. The boy with the forehead tattoo lies peacefully. Although you are running out of steam, his wound is healing nicely. One of the women, you believe it’s Pakunoda, comes to you and bends down.

“Can I get you anything?” You discover that your throat is absolutely parched. “Some water, please.”

If you remember correctly, the last you saw of her was when her head was shaved and some outsider kid did it. She had always kept it short. And now, it’s on her shoulders and very sleek. Over the years she’s drastically changed.

You drink the water, which to your surprise, is clean. “Hey, how did this happen anyway?”

“Don’t ask questions.” Feitan quickly shuts you down. Before you can ask anything more, you notice the entire group of friends are quiet.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?” You nod at the blonde boy with blue eyes and a permanent smile. Completing the hour, the tattoo guy is up. He’s immediately impressed. “My name’s Chrollo Lucilfer. Yours?” He puts out his hand for you to shake.

“Yeah, the book collector-theater nerd-kid, right? My name’s-” Before you can even answer, Feitan does it for you.

He gives your name and how your Nen works. He’s quick with it, too. You side eye Feitan for a second. “Thanks, Feitan. I, uh, really needed a spokesperson.”

“Ah, I guess it can’t be helped then, Feitan?” There’s tension in the air. It’s thick and heavy. By the looks of it, neither one is backing down. “Um, it’s not a big deal that he answered for me, you do know that, right?”

Seconds pass through this. You look around for anyone to intervene with this. Whatever the hell is going on, it’s deep. “Since Fei explained it, why not have her join?”

“Positions are filled.” Chrollo still stares directly into Feitan’s eyes. Phinks nervously chuckles, once again trying to defuse the situation. “Fei, come on. No fighting. Right boss?”

Suddenly, it’s lifted. Chrollo has what looks like a practiced smile on his face. “That’s true. That’s a rule.”

Chrollo takes a glance at you. “She obviously means a lot to you. Clearly, she’s an asset, too.”

“I’m right here, jackass.” Feitan smacks you on the head. “I’ll handle her.”

The others sigh in relief. Momentarily, you’re a little offended. “It was nice meeting you.”

They exit your hut right after, leaving Feitan behind. “So. those were your friends, huh?”

“Watch tongue.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes. There is blood on the floor and on the table. The furniture is in disarray due to all of his friends having no home training. “I haven’t seen you in forever and this is how you greet me?”

He frowns. “I say hello all the time.” You turn to him. “When? I didn’t see you.”

Feitan huffs and kicks the ground lightly. You get up to move the furniture back to place. Your movements are slow and everything seems so much heavier. Everything is swirling right before your eyes. Your head hurts and yet feels so light. Before you meet the ground, Feitan takes you to the couch and lays you down.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, little boy…” Those were the last words you say before you drift to sleep.

Hours later, you wake up at the sound of birds. There is a beautiful blue blanket on you with golden yellow designs. It’s thick and so warm you could stay forever. You’ve never owned anything like this.

Slowly you get up and search for Feitan. He’s nowhere to be found much to your dismay. Last night’s conversation still stays with you. He insisted that he says hello all the time. That he sees you regularly, yet, you haven’t seen him at all.

The blanket, the wind chime, the medical supplies, the various decorations with stones, paint and if you weren’t smart, you’d say gold. Could Feitan have been the one to give you gifts? Silently watching over you and in his own way, saying hello? You have felt like you were being watched for years.

____________

“Do you understand why I didn’t welcome you?”

“No, and I never will. Now please, leave me alone.” You feel convicted by turning a man of God away, but can he truly be one when he left a child to suffer? You were in the cold, wind, and rain, alone in one of the worst parts of the city. All you had was Feitan, and he was there once in a blue moon. After the rejection from the church, you took it upon yourself to care for others as no one had ever cared for you. Although hurt and afraid, you chose not to spread that toxicity. You decided that no matter the size of change, it still works.

However, you will not fall prey to the same people. For instance, that girl you saved and this priest. How can he expect your services with no repentance or atonement? You forgive, but like hell will you forget.

Damn…you were so sure you were over the pain of your past. That the change you made within yourself and how you treat people so no one else suffers like you, would stick. Alas, all it takes is one person to bring it down. You want to kick yourself because of the regression. Then again, the hostility isn’t your fault.

You walk into the hallway with small statues, stone walls, and large windows. The sun shines brightly through them, making the church seem prettier than it is.

“Please-”

“She said no.” Feitan stands with his hands in his pockets, the sun shining on his pale skin. It has been a few months since the incident with Chrollo. You haven’t seen any of them but have felt eyes on you, which you have deduced was Feitan. However, you learned the truth of the blanket. The name stitched on it belonged to an old clan, the Kurta, that was mutilated, tortured, and murdered by the Phantom Troupe. It disgusts you. The blanket is comfortable but still.

Feitan, the boy who you taught to tie his shoes, gave you a trophy of his crime. You wanted to burn it, or bury it in the memory of the Kurta, yet you couldn’t. It’s a gift from the one consistent person in your life. Your protector and giver. So, you folded it and put it in a box.

Now, here he is like he’s done nothing wrong. Defending you and putting the man that’s been with the city for ages in his place. You’re shocked at his behavior.

“Feitan, surely you must understand!”

“Shut up.” Father Rizole took a step back in surprise. Feitan was one of his regulars, if you remember correctly. This must be a surprise for the aging priest.

You hum at the scene. Even though the rumors of what the Troupe has done bothers you, it doesn’t mean you aren’t opposed to the benefits. The priest backs up and sighs.

“If you ever reconsider, please, let me know. We could use your help.”

“I could’ve used it too.” You end the conversation there and leave. Feitan soon follows you. He’s silent on his feet and very fast. Feitan was behind you but his quick feet caught up in less than a second. Now, he walks right at your side.

“So, you just decide when you want to see me?”

Feitan shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Sighing, you turn to him and ask, “What do you need this time?” The lower half of his face is hiding under a plain cowl now. His eyes show all of the emotion needed. “I just hang out.”

The sun is too hot for this nonsense. Sweat trickles down your face and back, becoming sticky. “So that’s why you’re here, right? I’m shocked.”

Before he can say your name, you continue. “Oh! And let's not forget the little massacre that took place, huh? Yeah, being used to heal your friend from that was really fun.”

“I didn’t.”

You roll your eyes. “No, just that one guy. That’s who to you, again?”

“Boss.” You scoff at his short answer. Then, you think about the possibility. “Your boss? Then…doing that to the Kurta, wasn’t your idea, was it?”

“No, not mine.” His hands remain in his pockets. His hair blows in the wind slightly. You realize he hasn’t gotten a haircut in a while.

“If you could, you know, go back in time…would you still do it?”

“Yes.” No hesitation, no thought put into the answer. Just a plain as day answer and a tone that leaves no room for an explanation.

“So whatever he wants he just gets? As long as it aligns with your twisted mind, right?”

His eyes grow darker. “I save you.”

You point to the church. “No, no you didn’t. That guy wasn’t going to do anything to me. I had it handled.”

Shaking your head, you go to leave until a hand wraps around your wrist. “Boss takes nen. I didn’t let him.”

Was that what that was? That tension that day that was suffocating? Remembering that day, you start to form pieces. “Would he hurt you if you didn’t go along with his schemes?”

“No.”

Well there goes that idea. “Nevermind.”

You try to yank your wrist from his grip, but it’s iron tight. “Let me go!”

“I protect you, always. Bad people here, everywhere. I get dirty for you.” His face is indifferent but his words give it away. The plea for you to understand and realize, dare you say, his devotion to his friends. Does this include you?

Is that what it is? What friendship, this connection is? You are aware of the deeds the Troupe do. You understand why they thought it would be a good idea (somewhat anyway).

“Thank you, then.” He lets go of your wrist which was grabbed painfully tight. He trades that in for holding your hand instead. You are shocked at first, but if you make it a big deal, he’ll stop. You don’t want him to right now.

Not when you feel safe. You still want to kick yourself… and maybe throw in a punch.

_____

Apparently, the Troupe have gone their separate ways for now. They don’t cling onto each other for a long period of time after a job. It’s better that way since it has a lesser chance of them getting caught. They still hang out from time to time, though.

For you, you managed to get out of Meteor City after the argument with the priest. Feitan had gone to do another heist with Phinks, if you remember right. You took that moment to skip town. You never wanted to stay in the trash, anyway.

And you were right to! Everything you thought of as a child about the world outside was true! Sure, people can be rude and things can be corrupt, but you’re fed and resting. There are bright lights and kind people. It can be clean and the soap smells so good. Just the other day you got to experience a nail salon. Rather than stealing from you, the lady next to you, Jade, talked about her family. Her daughter is Ruby and her wife is Scarlet. Jade and Scarlet want another child. You offered the name Emerald.

In Meteor City, you would’ve had to fight. Now, you are making friends and offering beautiful names. It’s a stark contrast that is fully welcomed.

The sun is bright and the moon is sometimes round. It doesn’t always attract evil and can sometimes sing such a beautiful melody. There are pearls and diamonds. There are seasonings that make the food taste unbelievably good. It’s all expensive, but infinitely better than Meteor.

And Nen is a secret here. In the city, many knew about it and used it without discretion. Here it’s different. Like a secret identity for a hero. Your nen in particular isn’t used as much as it was before. Your ability was so tiring. Pretty and incredibly useful, but exhausting nonetheless.

It has been a few years since you saw him, but he’s seen you. He found you quickly, too. When you came home from your office job (which you are still ecstatic about, by the way) you noticed a new painting in your house. It was dull and in black and white. The painting is of a few plants that take the center stage. Actually, they’re your nen plants. In the background is what looks like your old city. Piles of rubbish and polluted air in black swirls. There are clouds above and a dark sun barely poking out.

It’s sad. Beautiful, but sad. You have wondered what he meant by it. You open the door to your apartment. It’s not much and one day you want to get a house.

The keys make a jingle when you set them on the countertop. The apartment is still dark, so you scramble to flip the switch. “Why you leave?”

You scream at the top of your lungs. Standing there nonchalantly is Feitan, who you haven’t had contact with in a hot minute. His hair is even longer than before. He wears a new cowl that has a skull on it over his face. His trench coat looks a little too big for him but he wears it well anyway.

“Uh, because I live here? What are you doing here?” You set your bag down and take off your short heels. Although he’s a murderer, you still feel safe with him.

He takes slow strides towards you. “ Why? I looked for you and you weren’t there.”

“You knew where I was. I got your presents,” You point to the painting. He hides his face a little in the fabric. “I like it by the way. Did you do it?”

“Shut up.” You sigh and walk into your kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

You begin to wash the rice. Your eyes switch from looking down to taking obvious glances at him. Right about now, he should be in his mid twenties. It’s amazing how long you’ve known each other. You remember him as that kid who didn’t know how to tie his shoes and him teaching you about Nen. Time flies so fast when you least expect it.

You crack the eggs and whisk them. The sound of the utensil against the bowl and the sizzle of the tomatoes in the pan is all that is heard. Feitan doesn’t make one sound. He opts to stare at you working and even has a glint in his eye which you think could be satisfaction.

“Do you still like this, by the way? I remember you snatching it.” You try not to smile at the memory.

“I do.” He hovers in your kitchen, just waiting, watching you do all of the work. Stingy bastard. After adding the seasonings, you could have never gotten in Meteor City, you fix him a plate. He happily accepts it and sits down on the floor.

“I have a tab-” Oh, the memory. Allowing yourself to smile, you sit with him and eat off of his plate. “We’re sharing. ”

He gives a slight growl but doesn’t do anything. “So, what brings you by?”

“I say hello.” You hum with a mouth full of food. “Well, hello to you too, little boy.”

He gives you a light kick. The two of you finish the plate. Both full, you just lay back and talk.

“How long are you staying?”

“Not long.” You’ll miss him. “Running from the cops again?”

“Need to hide out for a bit.” You nod, accepting his answer and that your connection will probably always be sweet moments. “It’s nice to have you here, even only for a moment.”

Feitan taps you again with his foot. “I’m always here. I say hello all the time.” You know and are fully aware of what he means. His odd little gifts decorate your house. To bones, to rugs, even a china set he stole. It’s routine for him to give you something, even when you don’t see him.

“Even though you run.” He kicks you again. The more you watch him, the more your chest tightens. He’s the only consistent thing in your life. Everything is fleeting. Your job is new as well as your relationship with your coworkers. But there is a line with them. Feitan is different.

“How long are we going to do this dance?”

“I don’t dance.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “I mean you coming by once in a blue moon.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.” You nod. “Figures.”

He frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, that this whole thing is tiring. You come and go like some kind of feral cat.”

“So?”

You sputter, “ So I don’t appreciate it.” He takes off his long coat and reveals his chest, next goes his shoes. “I sleep here.”

“You can’t use me!” He gets up and goes in the direction of your room. “Feitan!” You pick up his clothes and set them aside. “Do you hear me? I wasn’t done talking!”

On your bed is a sprawled out Feitan. He looks at you with squinted eyes. “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

Like always, he makes himself at home. You sigh, giving up on trying to talk to him. “Move over.”

He scoffs and reluctantly moves out of your way. You feel him tense up as you lay down. “This is my bed. I can sleep here.”

You face each other as you lay down. Neither of you say anything about how close you are. This is probably the closest you’ve ever been since you helped him tie his shoes the second time. You feel his eyes on you, making you nervous. “Stop staring at me.”

“Never sleep with someone in a while.” You know. The last time was with you, no doubt. At the time, you didn't think about it, if you remember correctly. It's hard to tell since it's been so long.

“The couch is that way.” He smacks his lips. “No, you go.” You open your eyes.

“Like I said, this is my bed.” Feitan doesn’t say anything about your ownership. Instead, he’s honest with you. “I’m tired.”

Instantly, you start to feel a little bad. In the city, no child was ever able to fully sleep. It was too dangerous, especially in the more dangerous districts. Him being honest about his state, you take it as a step.

“If you want to, I’ll be on the lookout.” His hands are next to yours. You grab them, just like he did those few years ago. “You can sleep now, Feitan.”

You don’t know when, don’t know how either, but you two do end up sleeping. His eyes are closed and his breath even. Your eyes flutter open and see that he’s got slight dark under eyes and his mouth leaking drool. Feitan looks peaceful, sleepy, like he hasn’t done this in a while.

The next morning, he’s gone with no evidence he was even there.

_________________

You watch on the tv screen above the bank about the attack on York New, a city not too far from you. The attack happened a few days ago but it’s still in the headlines. You don’t blame them, to be honest. It was an insane event that over two thousand people died!

You cling onto your boyfriend’s arm. He touches your hand reassuringly. His watch gleams in the moonlight and his suit is perfectly pressed. He's the entire package, he’s perfect. A good job, good manners, an honest man, and treats you well, too. He always holds the chair out for you and gets up when you leave the room. Just like a true gentleman.

When you first met, it was a classic coffee shop romance. Then it blossomed into a romantic and expensive dinner, the movies, a nighttime walk in the park, all of the classic dates. In every single one of them he was the perfect gentleman, the perfect man. You like him and how he treats you. How consistent he is. He's the type of man you can rely on.

Nevertheless, there is a bothersome voice in the back of your head that reminds you of someone he just isn’t. He’s not Feitan Portor. You don’t feel the contentment Feitan gives when the two of you sleep. You don’t study your boyfriend’s features like you did Feitan.

Dammit, why are you thinking of him? He’s not around and you haven’t seen him in what? Two or three years? So why think of him now. Plus, you haven’t received a gift or a ‘hello’ from him. For all you know, he could be dead.

“Are you alright?” You wake from your thoughts and look at your boyfriend. His hair is dark, blending in with the night. Eyes kind and green, a Grecian nose, and average sized lips revealing a dazzling smile. Not only is the very essence of him suave, but his looks are also perfect. Tall and handsome, well dressed and a smooth voice.

It's just that one five foot one pest that won’t get out of your head.

“Y-yeah just…it’s all so shocking. York New is literally over there.” You point past the river where more tall buildings reside in the distance.

“I know, I know.” He brings you in close to him. He places a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.”

Suddenly, the newscaster stops mid sentence and gasps. Before you know it, the Phantom Troupe have been named the offenders that caused all of this. Two thousand people. Feitan, did you really kill that many people?

“I would like to go home. I don’t feel the greatest.” He rubs your arm, you still being tucked into his side. Your excuse was a lie to cover the gnawing feeling towards Feitan and his deeds. Although the Phantom Troupe’s original intentions were from a decent stand point, it seems they’ve lost their way. Feitan has lost his way.

The gifts have stopped coming, him no longer saying hello. After the last time, when you made him familiar food and sat in a comfortable silence, he disappeared. This time, there was something about it that hurt. Like he didn’t want to come around. He didn’t want to say hello anymore. Or perhaps, he died which if confirmed, you would ache beyond help.

“The Phantom Troupe is dead.” The newscaster said. The crowd gasped, shocked that the most feared criminals in the world are gone. Did you jinx it? Curse the little boy who needed you to tie his shoes. The boy who liked your cooking and made sure you rested. Had strong faith in you, never doubting. Protected you from the shadows and held your hand.

Is he really gone?

You hide your face in your boyfriend’s jacket. Tears stream from your eyes at the thought of his grave. With the Troupe, his friends dead, you’d be the only one to truly mourn him. To remember his name beyond his violence.

You clutch your chest. “Are you okay? Does your chest hurt?” He grabs you by your shoulders, making you face him. He’s such a kind, decent man. But he’s not Feitan Portor.

“I just need to rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You give him a chaste kiss goodbye. Once he leaves, your chest hurts even more. You slide down as you look around at all the menace’s little gifts. The painting, the skull, the windchimes, everything he’s given you. Why, oh why, couldn’t you stay here long enough for your gift, Feitan?

Wait, what could you have given him anyway? He’s a thief that takes what he pleases and has nothing to wish for.

You lay on your couch and put your arm over your face. The tears refuse to stop for even just a second. You don’t know what you’re crying harder for. Feitan or the confusing feelings for him. Now that he’s gone, you can’t properly tell him. How can you explain it?

It’s heavy on your chest and tightens it. You want to feel his body heat no matter how hot the day is. There are no small flutters in your stomach at the thought of him. No, it's something in your heart. You want to stare at him, to memorize every feature he has. To hear his soft voice that is just a centimeter away from a whisper. Just melt in his touch, his presence. Wait, why is this happening? You barely knew him! Does that fact even matter though?

You slip your hand in your underwear, still staring at the ceiling, sniffling at the news of his death. You imagine the future. Seeing him walk into your house and setting his belongings on the table. Wrapping his arms around you and kissing your back. No matter how long you’ve known him, his stature never fails to amuse you. He’d paw at your body, tearing off your clothes. Feitan wouldn’t hesitate to use his hands for your pleasure.

You trace your fingers in the direction you think he’d go. Curling your fingers inside, thrusting them in harshly, knowing that he can only be gentle in his own way. Your back arches from the couch. You swear you can smell him and the faint metallic scent that he holds. The feeling of his ragged breath on your cheek you could swear is real.

You moan as you take that jump you’ve searched for. Thinking of how good Feitan would make you feel. You're relentless on yourself, still going as strong as he’d be. Adding another finger, going faster and faster on your clit. Your moaning gets louder as the indiscernible amount of time goes on.

‘ The Phantom Troupe is dead.’

You crash on the couch with one last gasp. The dream of the two of you ends in flames. The house, the passion, the years that go by in that home. Maybe even a child or two. Seeing him in the morning with a groggy voice is gone. Rubbing his eyes and saying he wants more eggs and tomatoes is no longer there.

What would your gift be to Feitan? Memories? Sex? Food? Nothing fits. He can have those with anyone.

You slip yourself out from your underwear. It didn’t distract you. Perhaps if you thought of your boyfriend, it would have. But the feelings you have towards Feitan went beyond physical. What is this? What do you call this?

Love? Time stops at the realization. It has to be that. That would have been your gift to him. Love. You cover your mouth as you admit it to yourself.

'I love you Feitan Portor. I won’t forget you. I love your messed up hair and soft voice. For how you didn’t reject me when the world did. I will do the same for you. I’ll look past your torturous ways and miss you anyway. Maybe the world will curse you, but I’ll mourn you. Bury you so no one can spit on you anymore. I love you Feitan.

I’m in love with you Feitan Portor. This is my gift to you. For you to know that you will not be forgotten even though I never got to tell you, to thank you for everything. For leaving the baseball bat with me to protect myself. For painting that picture for me. All of the little gifts you thought I’d like, too. Thank you for protecting me from the priest and the wolves that hunted me every day when we were young.'

You stare at the ceiling till the earliest of mornings. It’s still dark, still heavy with the night sky. There’s some rumbling in the distance, a flash of light in the sky. You don’t bother to confirm anything.

Just as you close your eyes, the window opens with a creak. You move your eyes to see the figure before you. The darkness covers it, only leaving the silhouette. “Why cry?”

You squint, trying to make out the features. “Are you real?”

“Very.” It must be a lie. A cruel humor the world has. “Stop crying.”

“I can’t. Not when you sound like him.” The figure cocks his head, that much you can see with the flash of lightning behind him. “Him?”

“Someone who can’t tie his shoes.” Your lip wobbles again. “I can tie them now.” The moon glows enough to show his face now as he steps up to you. Feitan’s delicate features peek out from his cowl.

You shake your head in denial. “It’s not real. It can’t be. You’re dead, Fei.” Your voice is hoarse from your sobs.

He looks shocked at your words. The man who looks like Feitan smacks your feet off the end of the couch so he can sit.

“I’ll miss you Feitan Portor.” The longer you stare at the imaginary man, the more you hurt. “Well, stop.”

He roughly wipes away the tears. “Ugly when you cry.” His face is close to yours. Since he’ll be gone by the time you come to your senses, you grab his face and kiss him. He sharply inhales, not expecting your sudden decision.

He growls against your lips, “Stupid brat.”

He feels real. He smells real, familiar too. You tell him such and with furrowed brows and a strong grip of his hand, he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. “I’m real, you idiot.”

“They said you died…” You comb his hair through your fingers. It’s real, he's real . So, what’s going on? Before you can ask him, he cradles you. “Stop crying or I’ll go.”

Your lips wobble at his threat. Rather than listening to it, you hug him. He nestles on top of you, hips placed between yours. He’s light, lighter than you thought so it isn’t a bother.

“You’re so ugly when you cry. Don’t cry.” He holds you closer and kisses your head. Against your ear, you feel his lips move. You can’t tell what he’s mouthing. When the two of you comfortably slept those years ago, that was the closest you’ve been. Now, this beats that record. Face to face, body to body, and sharing breaths.

After a few moments of thunder and lightning, he kisses you gently. Not at all like the desperate one like before. Realistically, you know these feelings you have for him seem fake. You’ve only had a few moments with him. So, why are they so significant? Are they with him too? Is it possible that love can blossom quickly?

Gentle kisses turn passionate, never wanting to separate. Little nibbles on the right places and sucks on all of the best ones. Clothes leave, not wanting to get between the two friends, those who dance around each other. For the first time, they meet.

His hands reach your throat as he kisses you, making sure to give it a light squeeze. His weight is still on you, not hurting in the slightest. Feitan makes sure his hand reaches below and swirls his thumb on your bud. You gasp, surprised you were right about how he’d do it. Every ministration he does is exactly how it was pictured. Your hands don’t compare to it. Not by a long shot.

Despite his size, his hands are still bigger than yours. They reach deeper than you and are thicker too. In no time, you come, the bliss lasting a good minute before he sheathes himself inside. His thickness is more than you thought. It’s a bit of a stretch, but in a good way.

His gasps quicken with every thrust. You can tell that you're being loud, way louder than when you touched yourself. Feeling the rush and strength of his movements has you claw his back in ecstasy. He groans at the sensation. Finally, after this time of passion and intimacy, you both hold each other as you fall off of that cliff.

Feitan looks into your eyes. With a softness that no one in the world could’ve predicted the torturer of the Phantom Troupe to have, kisses you. “Don’t cry anymore. Don’t cry.”

“It’s hard not to when I know you’ll leave.” Silently, Feitan removes himself from inside you. It’s become routine, so you expect him to walk out. He lays back down, his head on your stomach. You run your fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut.

You wake up, not realizing that you went asleep in the first place. Before you can get up, you feel pressure on your stomach. Feitan rests on you still, eyes completely closed and his face peaceful. The two of you are naked and the only source of heat is each other. As much as you want to wrap your arms around him, you know he’ll react negatively or at least flinch.

Soon after, he stretches and rubs his face against your stomach. Like before, he drooled in his sleep. “Good morning.”

He grunts in response and sits up on his heels. It takes him a moment to remember the night before. His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, making you highly aware of your current state. You cover yourself with a blanket draped over the couch.

“I have to go.” Ah, right. He’s a cat.

He gets dressed. Once he has his boots on, you see him tie them the way you taught him. “Proud of you. You finally learned huh?”

“Brat.” You laugh a little at him. Once he’s done you ask, “Will I ever see you again?"

He cradles your face. “I come back.” You nod, holding back tears. He studies your face and settles on your eyes. He must have realized that you were trying not to cry. His hands still remain on your face as he kisses you. He lingers there for a minute. A parting kiss, a meaningful one.

Something tells you that this feral cat isn’t going away anytime soon. That he’ll always be constant and you won’t be totally alone. A companion you won’t see everyday and only for a night.

This is the gift you’ll give him. You’ll be home for him.

___________________

Months later, news about the Chimera Ants came out. You had already broken up with your boyfriend and heard he had left town to avoid them. Of course, you followed suit and got the hell out of there.

Without any plan, you moved back to Meteor City, where you thought that they wouldn’t be. Alas, that was stupid. You made a home base in the residential area. Not knowing that Meteor City was plagued by the wretched beasts.

By God’s grace, you managed to avoid them due to you being in the residential district. News that the Phantom Troupe were home to fight them ran rampant. The thought of Feitan made you nervous and you don’t know why.

Suddenly, right as you put away your dishes, the door opened. You grabbed a knife and faced the intruder. Standing there was the Phantom Troupe, who once again, barged into your home like they owned the place.

“What the hell?” You shout. The first one is Phinks with a wide smile. “There she is! Fei, I found her!”

You put your hand on your hip. “Seriously, what are you doing her-you’re dragging in mud, take off your shoes!”

“It’s only a little.” Phinks pouts. “I don’t care! You don’t live here.”

Phinks and his friends grumble as they do as they’re told. The last one to enter the house is Feitan, who is notably holding his left arm. Without being told, he removes his shoes.

“Feitan…” He hasn’t faced you yet. “What happened to your arm?”

“I’m injured too, (Y/n)!” The smiling boy with round eyes whines. You have no idea what his name is. Only that he and the rest are in Feitan’s gang.

“Alright, let me see.” He lays down on your clean table and says, “It’s all over. I need the full treatment!”

“Ugh, fine.” You grumble under your breath about the disrespect and your poor table. Finally, Feitan sits on one of the pushed aside chairs. He says, “I need it too.”

“Big babies.”

You heal the biggest cry baby completely. The blond, whose name you now know as Shalnark, stretches. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been hurting all day!”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Feitan who has been silent. He holds out his arm for you. You take the limb and inspect it.

“Completely shattered.” He grunts in agreement. He stares into your eyes and gives you a familiar slight smile. You notice that his friends are quiet, not a sound or word among them.

“You guys alright?” You ask. The girl shakes her head yes and ‘whispers’ to the rest. “Should we leave them alone?”

“Probably.” A mummy with boxing gloves answers. You’ve never seen him before in your life.

“Uh, we’ll check the place out. Y’know, make sure it’s safe.” Shalnark shoos the little kid out and into a separate room, your bedroom. “We’ll clear this out in case you guys need it!”

You huff and roll your eyes. Feitan’s cheeks are red and he’s glaring daggers at his friends. The girl goes outside with the remaining three to check the area. You and your feral cat are alone.

“What are they checking for? I’m in a residential area.”

“Ants.”

“They’re here? In the safe zone?” You begin to panic until he grabs your hand. “You’re safe now. They’re not in the city anymore.”

“Wha-how? What’s going on?”

He pinches you lightly, encouraging you to heal his wounds. “Oh, right, right.” Flowers of all colors circle around. They begin to smooth over Feitan’s wounds. You take a second to wipe the blood off of his lip, letting there be some room for the petals to go.

“How’s the other guy look?”

“She's toasted.” You smile. “Atta boy.”

He’s healed, the petals and flowers disappear. You lick your lips at the sight of his bare chest. You didn’t notice before due to the audacity of these heathens barging in.

His heart rate quickens. “You leave again.”

You nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I had to, Fei. the Chimera Ants invaded. I had to run.”

“With your boyfriend?”

You let out a small gasp. “ No. How do you know that?” He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “You lie.”

“I didn’t lie to you. I just never said anything.”

“Words of a liar.” You scoff at him. “I did not lie to you. I lied to him. You don’t have any business with our relationship.”

At first, he was looking at his lap. Those grey eyes of his immediately found a new target to glare at. “You’re not with him anymore. ”

“No. Why does that matter?” He begins to tap his foot lightly. “Why did you break up?”

“You hungry?” You start to get up until you’re tugged down. “Why?”

When you don’t answer, he whispers in your ear. “Because I fucked you?” Your face is so warm.

“If we run, we can still make it out.”

“Why are we running?” A small voice asks.

“Because I think they need the room.”

“Will you two shut up?!” You are two seconds away from running out of your own damn house. You stand and his hands hold you by your hips. “Tell me why you leave him?”

“Because of you.” It’s embarrassing to tell him your feelings. Hopefully, he can read your mind or something and shut up. He sighs and stands, walking over to you without a hitch. He kisses you.

“That’s what you get for lying.” He’s not remorseful or even boastful. Feitan takes your answer in stride. “No more leaving. Stay so I can find you.”

“You’ll always find me, remember?”

______________

Time after that, you were stuck in charge of Chrollo’s lover or something. She’s not too bad but clearly traumatized. Anytime you’d tell her to go with you, she’d look shocked. Like she was surprised she could leave. You were suspicious of her relationship with Chrollo. Something didn’t sit right with you whenever he or Feitan came up. She’d tense up. She never talked about it either. From what you understand with the little information you have, is that she was a former member that raised an orphan and that Chrollo loved her immensely. Perhaps too much.

From what you know, there was a big showdown on the Dark Continent and the boat that was taking a voyage to the fake one. The Phantom Troupe were on that one at first, fighting Hisoka Marrow. He was a sore loser that got humbled and decided to attack again.

Amazingly, only a few died. You didn’t want to know the details or anything. You can’t go through that again. So, after that news, you and Chrollo’s lover parted ways. She went on to find a kid she raised. You, on the other hand, decided to settle out of Meteor City. This was almost a year ago.

You have an apartment now in the town where you and your boyfriend lived, right next to York New. It’s basic, not fitting any aesthetic or anything. The good thing about it is that it’s bigger than your first one. It’s two bedroom and has a good price.

Feitan hasn’t reappeared. It tore you to shreds. You’ve managed to piece yourself together bit by bit, but you are a hollow version of yourself. Surviving and not enjoying the little things you used to. You even saw Jade, Scarlet, Ruby, and the new child, Emerald. Even that heartwarming moment didn’t fulfill you. However, it was the first time you smiled in a while.

You stir the food in the pot. Since it’s a little chilly, you made soup. You put the lid over the pot, letting it cook. There’s a knock on the door. You open it and see the man you’ve waited for.

Feitan is in dark clothing and has a large scar on his face. There’s no cowl over him, or a large trench coat. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks at you expectantly. You realize that you’ve just been standing there, you move to let him in. Once again, he makes himself at home.

“How’ve you been?”

“You leave again.” He states bluntly. His eyebrows are furrowed and has a frown on his face.

“Bold of you, very bold.” You move around him. “Why did you go?”

“Because I’d never stay in that city forever. The Ants were gone, the world settled. So why couldn’t I? That place is gross anyway.”

He sits on the barstool and cracks his neck. You ask a question right after he sits. “How long you here for?”

You don’t know why you asked that. He’ll only be here for a moment. A while ago, you had made the decision to accept it as your gift to him. To love and mourn him when the world won’t. When news about the Phantom Troupe hit, you couldn’t bear to hear it. Their trip to the fake Dark Continent, then their corrected course to the right one, ended in a battle with them facing Hisoka and Illumi and everything else over there.

It was too hard for you to think about. That doesn’t mean you didn’t mourn and that you’ve snapped out of it.

“For good.”

You look up into his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he’s smiling with soft eyes. You see that he has a dimple on his left cheek. “W-what about-”

“Done for a while. Maybe forever. I know I’m staying.”

“But your friends, where are they?” He shrugs even though you see the tension. “Separate. We split for a bit.”

He rubs his shoulders nervously. “Can I stay with you?”

“Wow, you’re asking? Shocked.” You tap on the counter. The weight you’ve been carrying is lightened. “Feitan?”

“Yes?” He gets off of the stool and makes his way around the counter. “You know how you give me all those gifts?”

He nods his head. “Well, this is my gift to you, Feitan Portor. You can stay as long as you like.”

He wraps his arms around you. He’s hugging you. This time, you aren’t afraid to hold him back and squeeze. Maybe, just maybe, this is what home is?

If the Phantom Troupe resurrects, at least you know he’ll always come home. That you two will be a constant force for each other. No matter if it does or doesn't, you two aren't dancing but admitting things you couldn't. This is home, a gift for each other.

#feitan portor #feitan x reader #feitan porter x reader #hxh #hxh fanfic #slight yandere #q #phantom troupe #hunter x hunter #hxh feitan #idk what to put here rn

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