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#they did what they needed to to help their people and are moving forward together
cottonlemonade · 3 days
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A Simpler Life [Part 1]
word count: 1585 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.
pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn
warnings: spoilers
synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor.
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When you decided on a clean break and moved to the little country home, you finally got your long harbored wish of a manageable veggie patch as well as a few fruit planters, breathing clear fresh air that the city life had you only dream about for so many years. At first, of course, the people were suspicious of the newcomer - the foreigner-city girl who came to their part of Hyogo with no clear intention but when you greeted each of them warmly around town and offered an open door if anyone ever needed help, they soon treated you as one of their own. The grandmothers of the neighborhood soon kept an eye out for any eligible bachelors because “it‘d be such a shame if a pretty girl like ya would be all lonesome in that house of yers“ but while grateful for their concern, you were happy on your own.
Although, that didn‘t stop you from falling for your neighbor as soon as you met him.
Your first impression of Kita was that he was polite, caring and warm but maybe a bit shy. He bowed his head with a smile when he passed by your front yard in the evening heading to his house, looking exhausted but satisfied. You wondered if he lived alone, too, because no one else seemed to be going in or out of the modest traditional nouka.
You were privately looking forward to the evenings when you could catch a glimpse of him and bask even for just a second in the sunshine of his smile.
This went on for a week or so of you two simply exchanging nods, waves and smiles until, “Good evenin‘.“, he greeted.
The buzzing of cicadas filled the air. You were tending to your garden, having opted to weed in the milder evening rather than the afternoon sun. A straw hat on your head, muscles already straining from the unfamiliar work, you straightened, trying to suppress a groan. “And to you.“, you replied, using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead, smearing some soil on your skin in the process.
“It‘s really comin‘ together.“, he noted and nodded towards the healthy green surrounding your ankles.
Don‘t blush, you told yourself. “Thank you.“, you beamed, “I am worried about my tomatoes, though. They look a bit peaked.“
You pointed to some sad little plants on the end of your veggie patch.
With professional eyes he wandered along the fence to inspect them.
“Oh, yea, they might have had a bit too much sun and not enough water. Don‘t worry, happens to all of us.“, he smiled, “I have some extra starters in my greenhouse. Ya can have a couple if ya like. I always grow more in case bugs get to ‘em.“
“Oh, really?“
“Sure, come by tomorrow to pick ‘em up.“
“Thank you so much!“
“What else have ya got here?“, he now leaned on the fence post, examining the rest of the plants. You listed the few you had.
“Ya might wanna add sugar snap peas. They‘re easy to grow and the yield is really good.“
“Noted! But I might have to wait until next season, I don‘t think I have enough space for any more.“
“Ya can grow ‘em nicely in planters. I can build ya one. It‘s not difficult.“
Your heart did a little jump. “Are you sure it‘s not too much trouble?“
“Neighbors gotta stick together, right?“, he grinned and stood back up, “I‘mma let ya get back to it.“ and he made to leave.
“W-wait!“
He turned back to you.
“One of the grannies in town gave me a bunch of fresh greens and tofu today. My fridge doesn‘t work yet so I‘m worried it’ll go bad. Would you like to join me for dinner?“
He blinked. For a moment you weren‘t sure if you hadn‘t been too forward but then Kita nodded and walked around the fence to your gate. Oh my, somehow the fence had underplayed his handsomeness. As he stood right in front of you, arms tan and taut with lean muscles from a day‘s work and a towel tied around his neck you forgot to talk for a second.
“This way.“, you gestured to the front door.
“Don‘t ya wanna finish up weedin’ first?“
“But…“
“I‘ll help ya.“
“But…“
And he got to work. Of course, his practiced hands got the job done so much faster than you and where you had only managed a fourth of the patch he finished up the rest in no time.
Kita knelt on a seating pillow you had laid out around your coffee table, patiently waiting for you to plate up the hearty stew alongside some grilled tofu and rice. You figured he must be starving after all that hard manual labor. But to your surprise he ate slowly, chewed carefully and seemed to savor the taste.
“It‘s delicious.“, he said and let out a small content sigh, “I usually don‘t have much energy to cook in the evenin’s. This is great, thank ya.“
So he did live alone. How the masses of overzealous grandmothers in town hadn‘t flocked together to feed this man yet was a mystery to you.
In all honesty, Kita didn‘t agree with the people in town who said you were “pretty“. “Pretty“ didn‘t do you justice. He thought you were breathtaking. Because that‘s how he felt when he talked to you for the first time. Like his breath was stuck somewhere in his throat. Your genuine smile when he complimented your cooking now had a permanent place in his mind - framed it hung at the very top where he could always admire it throughout his day. Where his thoughts were usually busy with plans for the following morning or simply quiet, while his hands moved automatically through the water in the fields, they were now interlaced with you. Your twinkling eyes when he told you he would build you a planter, your cute protests when he offered to help you weed that tiny little veggie patch as if it was the most daunting task ever encountered and your voice, bright and lively as you told him about yourself upon his request. His grandmother had told him many stories growing up, about right and wrong, patience, kindness and fate. She told him when two people were meant for each other, their souls would recognize it and be drawn to the other by some unseen force. Back then, young Kita wasn‘t exactly sure what to make of it. It sounded very fantastical and without any data to back it up he thought it was another one of his grandmother‘s folktales. Now he wasn‘t so sure anymore because you were his first and last thought of the day.
He doubted that someone as beautiful and worldly as you would consider him as a match but he was merely glad to know he could be of help and make your life a little easier. After dinner the previous night he had told you he had some business in the city the next day and you could please wait for him at his place in the afternoon to collect your promised tomato starters. He had spent the morning making sure the little plants were in top shape, selecting the very best of the bunch. He was eager to get back home but as per usual, city traffic had other ideas.
Every couple of seconds he glanced at the clock on the truck‘s dashboard, hoping he didn‘t make you wait too long.
When he finally pulled into his driveway he spotted you sitting on his porch, his black and white dog lounging in your lap, getting his ears massaged.
A bundle lay next to you.
The dog‘s tail thwacked on the wooden porch as he approached.
“Ya look comfortable.“ He had meant it to his (guard) dog but somehow it seemed like your full cheeks got a bit of color.
“I hope I haven't kept ya waitin‘.“
“It‘s fine.“, you said simply, “I had great company.“ You petted the dog's head again who let out a happy huff.
Kita grinned and looked towards one of his greenhouses. “I‘ll go grab the tomatoes.“
You were brushing some dog hairs off your pants when he returned. Without meaning to, he searched your hands for an indication of a wedding band but shook his head when he caught himself.
He held out the tray with the starters.
“Thank you so much! They look great. And here.“, you bent down to exchange the tray for the bundle, “Since you said you wouldn‘t accept any money for them I made you dinner instead.“
His eyes widened. “Ya didn‘t have to.“
You shrugged. “I know, but it wouldn‘t feel right otherwise. And it‘s not like it‘s even close to an equal trade once these start producing.“
He was a little disappointed. After all, he had practiced inviting you to have dinner with him his entire drive back, but having more of your cooking was the next best thing, he supposed.
The following morning you found the bundle neatly wrapped on your doorstep, the large square bento box inside had been thoroughly cleaned and a note replaced the food “It was really delicious. Thank you very much. - Kita“.
Your heart stumbled when you stared at the neatly written words and grinning so hard your cheeks started to hurt, you pinned it to a little cork board next to the door.
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a/n: thank you so much to @makkir0ll for helping me hatch this ostrich-sized brain egg 🌟🫶🏻
art: coloring done by @keiko-chan
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rileyslibrary · 3 months
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After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.
A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!
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A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.
“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”
You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.
You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.
“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”
“Pardon?” he asks.
“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”
The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.
“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.
“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”
“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”
“Where am I?” You ask.
“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”
Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.
“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”
“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”
“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”
“Several.” He nods.
“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”
“It’s your job, love.” He replies.
“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”
“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”
“I was really worr—”
“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”
“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.
“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”
“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”
“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”
“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”
“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”
“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”
“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”
“Can he?”
“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”
“Is he that good?” He asks.
“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”
“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”
“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.
The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.
“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”
“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”
“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”
“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”
“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”
“Even then.” You confirm.
“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”
“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”
“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”
“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”
“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”
“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”
“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”
“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.
“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.
“What did he lie about?”
“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”
“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”
“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”
“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.
“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”
“I do,” he confirms.
“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”
“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”
“How is she?” You ask.
“Perfect.” He states.
“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”
“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.
“Do you love her?” You ask.
“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”
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criminalamnesia · 2 months
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HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!
thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
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simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.
he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.
he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.
but he couldn’t take everything lying down.
did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?
he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.
he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.
he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.
but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.
but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.
simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.
and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?
you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.
the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.
and all the signs pointed to you.
and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.
price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.
johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.
then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.
simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.
maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.
but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.
all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.
and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.
so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.
and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.
even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.
he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.
but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.
the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.
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it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.
the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.
“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.
“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”
simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.
“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”
“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”
price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.
“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”
“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.
price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”
the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.
he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.
“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.
price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”
simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.
“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”
they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.
pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.
although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.
but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.
an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.
you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.
damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.
you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.
he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.
‘you should have killed me.’
maybe he should have.
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thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—
im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!
as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)
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ellemj · 5 months
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What Am I To You?
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot: SMUT
Summary: You pissed your fuck buddy off and now he only has one question, but it takes a few orgasms to get the right answer out of you.
Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, facesitting, light choking, light breeding kink, no use of y/n, praise, spanking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings. Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for the ones listed above, she's a gem.
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: This filth came from a random 4am thought that created the dialogue in the first paragraph. I had to use it. Everyone should totally beg @littlemiss-yeehaw to post the horny lil sketch she started for this one-shot. Side note, should I start a tag list for people who want to be tagged in all fics I post? Idk, I'm still way too new to Tumblr to be running a blog like this lmfao. I need a team of advisors.
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         “Do you know who the fuck you’re talking to? Get on the bed, I’ll show you.” You stay where you are, standing in the doorway of his bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest in a show of defiance. “Get on the fucking bed, right now.” He repeats, pointing a finger at his bed. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s seconds away from dishing out a punishment, one that he’ll enjoy far more than you, so you shuffle forward and crawl onto the bed as he watches. Good girl.
You’ve been here before. You know what he wants from you. He wants you on your hands and knees, with no looking back over your shoulder to see what’s coming. So that’s how you settle yourself, on your hands and knees, staring down at the soft, ruffled up bedding beneath you.
“What am I to you?” He asks, his tone scarily calm and even. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. What kind of answer is he looking for? You’re just fuck buddies. You use each other to de-stress after missions. It’s never been anything more, not once in the past two months that it’s been going on has there ever been so much as a hint that it could be something more.
“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. You listen intently as the familiar sound of Bucky’s belt buckle coming undone fills the silence in the room. A chill races through your body, dancing across the surface of your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
“You don’t know…” Bucky tsks. You can’t see him, but he’s standing a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed, letting his eyes rake over your nearly exposed ass as he unbuttons his shirt. The little black dress that you’re wearing barely covers anything with the position you’re in, and he’s fucking thankful for it. In fact, if you hadn’t pissed him off tonight, he probably would’ve found some way to fuck you during the mission just because of that dress. But you pissed him off. “I’ll help you figure it out.” Bucky steps forward now, his warm right hand and cool, metal left hand both gracing the skin of your right ankle as he begins taking off your heels. He drops one to the floor before moving on to the other, and then he strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side as well.
“I thought we were just—”
“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” Bucky warns, effectively cutting you off and giving you a chance to save yourself. It’s beyond clear now that this isn’t just a fuck buddies situation to him anymore. It did start out that way though. Two months ago when you two stumbled into bed together, he proposed a friends-with-benefits type of relationship so casually that you would’ve thought he’d had plenty of them in his lifetime. It worked so well, with the two of you meeting up once or twice a week at either your place or his to blow off steam with good sex. It wasn’t until you were a month in that Bucky started to realize he hated the way you’d leave within half an hour of finishing each other off. He hated that you never slept over. He hated that you still had the freedom to talk to other guys, hell, you could even go out on dates with other guys if you wanted and he wouldn’t be able to say shit about it. Because this was nothing. It was just a casual agreement between friends.
Bucky trails his fingers along your calves slowly, taking his time as he decides what he’s going to do with you. Every other time that you’ve been together, he’s let it be a mutually beneficial thing. There was never a time where only one of you pleased the other, because that would’ve defeated the purpose of the arrangement. He would’ve been perfectly content with solely pleasuring you here and there, giving you everything while taking nothing for himself, but you always reciprocated and he never stopped you. But now, he’s going to do exactly what he wants. He’s going to show you what he is to you in the best way that he knows how: by making you come undone for him, by reminding you that no one else has ever or will ever make you feel the way that he can.
As Bucky pulls his hands away from your calves, you hear the sound of his pants dropping to the floor, the sound of his dog tags shifting around his neck and tapping against his bare chest with his movements, and then the sound of a deep sigh leaving his lips. Anticipation courses through your veins and mixes with adrenaline, creating a dangerous compound that only seems to encourage the wetness seeping into your panties. You shift on the bed, wiggling your hips and wishing you could clench your thighs together for even the smallest amount of friction. Bucky, of course, notices you moving and quickly gains control of the situation.
“Impatient, huh? Do you need something?” He questions slyly, letting his hands connect with your calves once again. You’re fooled by his gentle touch, your body not at all expecting his flesh hand to suddenly smack against your ass. “Answer me.” Holy shit. He’s never been quite like this with you before.
“I need you.” You answer, hoping he’ll give you anything in return.
“You don’t even know what I am to you, yet you need me?”
“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as his hands glide further up your legs, past the crooks of your knees and along the sides of your thighs. When both of his hands reach the curve of your ass, he begins pushing the hem of your dress up around your waist. The silence is deafening.
He wasn’t planning to be so rough with you, but as soon as his eyes land on the tiny black thong that was previously hidden beneath your tiny black dress, his hands start functioning on autopilot. A low groan rumbles past his lips as he pulls your panties to the side with his vibranium hand and shoves two fingers into your cunt, without a single breath of a warning.
“BUCKY!” You cry out, arching your back and trying to pull away from him. He moves his vibranium hand to grip your left hip, holding you firmly in place while his fingers are still buried knuckle-deep within you. Giving you little time to adjust, he begins sliding them in and out, in and out, giving himself a chance to feel how wet and tight you are for him. Fuck. It’s going to test every bit of his resolve and self-discipline to get through what he plans to do to you tonight.
“That’s it, say my name.” He encourages you, pumping his fingers in and out at a steady pace. When he leans in and attaches his lips to your clit, you fist the bedding in both hands and squeeze your eyes shut. Breathy moans and curses fall from your lips as his tongue circles over the most sensitive part of your body, all while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’ve never been one to go careening toward an orgasm with little-to-no effort, but Bucky is skilled. That familiar knot is twisting tighter and tighter in your lower stomach as he relentlessly toys with your pussy.  He can tell you’re already close to your first orgasm of the night, and as much as he wants to withhold it until you admit that he means something to you, he wants to see you come undone for him even more.
“Bucky, I’m close.” Your voice is breathless, all of your energy is focused on actively denying yourself of your release. For the briefest second, you wonder why your body won’t just go ahead and cum, but then you realize that you want his permission. You want him to tell you to let go, to cum on his fingers and lips. Bucky fucks his fingers into you a little harder and deeper, reaching a spot that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your toes curling. Another loud moan from you has Bucky digging his vibranium fingers into your hip with enough force to leave bruises. He knows you’re right on the edge, and it takes him only a second to figure out why you’re not letting go. He pulls his head back for a moment but lets his fingers continue their work.
“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” He asks. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. You nod your head fervently and he chuckles at your neediness. “Who gets you this wet? This desperate for release?” Fuck.
“You, Bucky.” You moan out your response as he pulls his fingers nearly all the way out and slides them back in at the slowest pace yet.
“Who else?” He demands to know, picking up the pace once again.
“No one, only you.” Your answer is honest and it earns you his mouth back on your clit. He sucks and licks at it like his life depends on your impending orgasm. He gets you right back to the edge within seconds, before breaking away from your clit momentarily just to say cum for me. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers as you unintentionally grind against his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your clit and lets you take everything you need. After a few more seconds of immense pleasure, the legs and arms that have been so dutifully holding you up are threatening to collapse.
“What am I to you?” Bucky repeats his question from earlier, but still, your answer is the same.
“I don’t know.” Your voice is quieter now, weaker since the first orgasm took so much energy out of you. Bucky shakes his head, though you can’t see him from your current position. He didn’t think you’d have a better answer after just one orgasm, but he’s going to give you a chance after each one anyway.
“Lay on your back.” Bucky commands. You do as you’re told. As you finally make eye contact with him, he can see the thankfulness in your gaze. You were getting tired of holding the same position. Bucky steps forward and places one knee on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs. His fingers snag along the waistband of your thong before he begins pulling it down your legs. You bend your knees to make it easier, and he slips it off gently before dropping it on the floor with your heels and his clothes. He climbs onto the bed now, your legs instantly spreading to let him between them. He crawls over your body and the new sensation of his warm skin against yours is delicious. You wish he would’ve taken your dress off already. When you feel the outline of his hard cock, still covered by his boxers, pressing against your wet, sensitive cunt, your eyes flutter closed and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips. You’ve always been a sucker for this, for having him pressed against you so close yet not close enough. It’s always made you a bit feral and Bucky’s fully aware of that. A knowing smirk spreads across his features as he puts a little more weight into your position, pressing his cock against you a little harder. When you open your eyes and look up at him, he has to remind himself that he can’t just give in a fuck the shit out of you right now. He has an end goal.
“Why do we still have clothes on?” You ask, referring to your dress and his boxers. Bucky chuckles lowly starts circling his hips against you, drawing a soft hum from your pretty lips. He dips his head down and starts leaving light kisses along the side of your neck. He knows that’s a weakness of yours too, his mouth anywhere on your skin. It’s one of the first tactics he deploys when he wants to fuck but he isn’t sure if you’re up for it or not.
“Do you want our clothes off?” Bucky breathes the question against the skin just below your earlobe and you find yourself having trouble concentrating. He can feel you nod, but he doesn’t actually give a damn about what you want right now. He’s not a monster though, so he’ll give you half of what you want. He pushes himself off of you in one swift movement and stands on the floor beside the bed. You turn your head to watch as he slides his boxers down his legs and kicks them off. They join the pile that consists of the rest of his clothes, your heels, and your thong on the floor. When he returns to his position on top of you, you stick out your bottom lip in a pout over him not removing your dress. He’s quick to lean in and suck that bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down on it lightly before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He always tastes so fucking good, though you can never pinpoint what he tastes like. It’s just him. Honestly, you’d let him spit in your mouth if he wanted to.
Bucky kisses a lot like he fucks, with so much passion that it makes your heart race and your mind reel. It makes you think about how mediocre every other kiss with any other guy was, about how kissing was just a minor part of foreplay until you started kissing him. Now kissing is everything. Your hands travel up his sides and settle on either side of his face as you fight to deepen the kiss. When you suck on his tongue, he groans into your mouth and pulls back. You love the way his lips and nose get pink when he kisses you like that.
“No more kissing.” Bucky rasps. You let out a whine that makes his cock twitch. He loves hearing how needy you are for him, but it’s especially enjoyable when he hears how needy you are just for him to kiss you. He starts grinding his now bare cock along the folds of your pussy with just the right amount of pressure, focusing his efforts on your clit. He probably should’ve used his mouth and fingers again for this one, because he’s far too close to cumming just from feeling how wet you are against his shaft. His cock collects your wetness more and more with each thrust of his hips, and for a second he thinks about just letting the tip slide in. He won’t do it though, not yet. He won’t put his cock inside of you until he’s ready to make you cum for the third time.
“You’re being a tease tonight.” You pout, letting your hands find his hips and using your grasp there to pull him harder against you. He stills himself and you let out a frustrated sigh. Why isn’t he giving you more?
“You’re being greedy. You already came once, you should be saying thank you.” Bucky retorts, pushing himself up with his hands and sitting back on his knees between your legs. Your eyes are quick to zone in on his cock, just as his flesh hand is wrapping around it and giving it a firm stroke from the base to the tip. God, you’ve always loved seeing him touch himself. He doesn’t do it in front of you often. Normally the two of you are quick to get down to business and just fuck, but there have been a few very memorable times where you get to see him stroke his cock right before he guides it inside of you. Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, and for a second Bucky imagines that same tongue all over his fucking cock. No. This isn’t about him tonight. This is about finally making you see what’s been right in front of you all along.
“Please.” The word leaves your lips so softly, so gently, that Bucky’s hand hesitates around his length. He’s never heard you beg before. You’ve never had a reason to, he always gave you what you needed, before you had to ask. A dark feeling settles within his chest as he realizes he likes it.
“Please?” He repeats the word, as if he doesn’t understand the meaning. You see the way his gaze changes from one of lust to one of pure desire. He wants more.
“Please, Bucky. Fuck me.” You give him the most innocent look you can muster up as you lay there in his bed with your pussy exposed and nearly dripping onto his bedding. He tightens his fist around the base of his cock and scrunches his eyes closed, clearly trying to talk himself down from blowing his load way too fucking soon. If he sits there and looks at you any longer, he won’t last, he won’t be able to make it to his end goal tonight. The only thing he can think of to keep himself on track is something that’ll easily obscure his vision of you.
“No, you’re going to sit on my face.” He says roughly, positioning himself on his back next to you. He looks over at you impatiently, he almost looks offended that you’re not already changing positions for him. You’re quick to sit up and swing a leg over his torso, straddling his chest but not making any contact with him yet. “I said my face, sweetheart.”
“I know, but—” You’re about to point out that he’s already eaten you out once tonight and you haven’t even had the chance to reciprocate, when he abruptly grasps your thighs and pulls you over his head. “Fuck.” You mumble the curse word out as he easily pulls you down, your cunt making contact with his mouth as he dives in. You can’t form a single thought as his tongue delves into you. He fucks you with it almost as thoroughly as he did with his fingers just a few minutes ago, thrusting it in and out while your clit brushes against the tip of his nose. His hands slide back to grip your ass and you have to brace your hands on the headboard to keep from putting your full weight on his face. He can feel your resistance and he hates it. He lifts you up an inch just to chastise you.
“I said sit on my fucking face, not hover over it.” He pulls you down again but this time he brings his right hand in to rub harsh circles against your clit as his tongue continues its work on your entrance. You’re panting and breaking out in a sweat within a few seconds. You still haven’t fully sat on his face, so he’s going to give you one more punishment and see if you’ll give in. His vibranium hand moves away from you and the swings back once more, slapping your ass so hard that you fall forward a bit, your cunt landing firmly against Bucky’s mouth. He hums against your pussy in approval, and the sound sends vibrations through your core. Fuck. You’re going to cum a second time and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. When he sets just the right pressure and pace with his flesh fingers on your clit, and his tongue starts lapping into you like eating pussy is his fucking career, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Your chest is heaving and your knuckles are turning white as your death grip on the headboard threatens to bruise your palms.
“Fuck, I’m cumming. Oh my god, Bucky!” You cry the words out so loudly, yet your voice sounds so far away in your own ears as your orgasm short circuits your entire nervous system. After a few seconds, you realize you’re grinding lazy circles against Bucky’s mouth, and he’s letting you. “Shit.” You mutter, using all of your remaining strength to try to dismount his face. He grasps your thighs to stop you, and then places a long, gentle kiss right against your clit, sucking on it in the slightest bit as he pulls back. Then, he lets you go. You collapse on the bed next to him, your breasts threatening to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress from tonight’s activities thus far.
“What am I to you?” Bucky asks a third time, rolling onto his side to face you. He gazes at you with a much gentler expression than earlier as he brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face. He thinks you look so damn perfect like this. You always glow after sex, but after two orgasms you could be mistaken for the fucking sun.
“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as you desperately search your brain for the answer he’s looking for. He obviously doesn’t want you to say that he’s your fuck buddy, and maybe he isn’t. You probably shouldn’t feel as jealous as you do when he ends up on missions with Sharon instead of you, that’s not very fuck-buddy-friendly of you. You also probably shouldn’t hate the few minutes after sex when he’s catching his breath in bed while you’re pulling your clothes on, hoping he won’t be annoyed with how long it takes you to get out of his apartment. Maybe you’re more than fuck buddies. But still, you don’t know what to call it. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure.” Bucky repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting the words. His facial expression remains gentle, but the light in his eyes darkens. “Take off your dress.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You push yourself up and sit on the side of the bed before pulling the dress over your head and letting it fall to the floor. You haven’t even had the chance to lay back down when he starts moving to sit right behind you, letting his legs come around either side of you so your back presses against his chest. Ah, you see where he’s going with this. The wall that you’re both now facing has a tall standing mirror, giving you the perfect view of your naked body in front of his in the dim light of his bedroom. “Look at yourself.” Bucky coos, cupping your chin with his flesh hand and tilting your head up the tiniest bit. “So fucking pretty.”
His words have you blushing for some reason. Of all of the times you’ve been naked in his bed, you don’t recall him ever saying sweet things to you just for the sake of saying them. Maybe he thought them, you wouldn’t know, but he sure as hell never said them. It sends a wave of warmth throughout your body, and your already pink-tinged cheeks take on another layer of blush. With almost no effort, Bucky places his hands on your hips and pushes you up to a standing position. He then tucks his legs between yours and then grips his cock in his hand. He gives it a few slow pumps before angling you above it and then guiding you to sit down. Right on his fucking dick. The moan that leaves your lips as your head falls back against his shoulder could’ve come from amateur porn. The penetration feels as if it’s happening in slow motion, as you take one-fourth, then half, then three-fourths, and then…his entire fucking cock inside of you.
“That’s it, baby, all of it.” Bucky begins peppering kisses across your neck and right shoulder, but his eyes are locked on the mirror, staring at where the two of you are connected. “Whose fingers make you cum?” He asks, as his right hand skims down your side, straight to your clit. He uses his middle and ring fingers to start gently massaging your already-sensitive clit. You lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Yours.” You answer quietly, slowly beginning to slide up and down his length. You’re only moving an inch at a time, not yet adjusted nor ready to fuck his cock how it deserves to be fucked.
“Good girl.” Why does such simple praise from him make you feel like you’re having a mini orgasm on the spot? Jesus. You start fucking half of his cock now, lifting yourself up and then sitting back down, but not daring to pull off anywhere near the tip. “Whose mouth makes you cum?”
“Yours.” You say again, a little louder this time as the pleasure begins building low in your stomach once more.
“That’s right, you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Bucky picks up the pace with his hand. His work on your clit is making stars flash in your vision and your pussy continuous clench around his cock. “And who do you let cum in this perfect little pussy? Huh? Who does this belong to?” He asks, his eyes once again drifting down in the mirror until they land on where his cock is disappearing inside of you. He groans as you sit fully down on it again.
“You, Bucky.” You moan, now fully adjusted to his thick length. You start bouncing on it, unable to control yourself any longer. Bucky’s having none of that. He quickly slides his flesh hand up your stomach, between your breasts, and wraps it around your neck. He isn’t choking you, he’s merely gaining your full attention with an authoritative move. You freeze, your eyes locking onto his in the mirror as you sit there with his entire length inside of you.
“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, and then I’m going to cum inside you so fucking deep that you might end up pregnant.” His filthy words give you as much pleasure as any touch, any kiss, any physical thing he could ever do to you. Your pussy tightens around him at the promise that he’s just spoken. “Now tell me, why would you be here right now, letting me do that? What am I to you?”
“Everything.”
Finally, you gave him the right answer.
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luxaofhesperides · 3 months
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Can I please have meet cute/weird with mistaken villain! Danny (but really just a engineer and or chem student) and the one being put on investigation cause Danny is a day villain(not really)! Duke
Technically, Danny Fenton is innocent. Technically. 
Duke wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’s having so much trouble finding solid evidence that Danny is stealing from a wide variety of people, but he’s been burned before by trying to see people as better than they were. It doesn’t change the fact that Oracle’s cameras keep spotting Danny right before a building on the street is broken into and something stolen. He’s always just walking down the sidewalk; no one has spotted him entering or exiting a building, but he’s around far too often to be unconnected to these burglaries. 
It doesn’t help that strange, petty crimes have been on the rise since Danny first arrived in Gotham. 
So.
Danny Fenton is technically innocent.
Duke is trying to prove that he’s not. 
Maybe I’m looking too closely, he thinks, going over Danny’s sparse file in the Hatch. Maybe Danny’s only one person in a bigger operation.
He could just be the lookout, the runner, the information gatherer who marks which buildings to hit. He may even be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb; Danny has no support in Gotham, no family, no job. There would be no one to help him if he got arrested or injured in a fight. He’s a freshman college student from Illinois who should be unprepared for life in Gotham but is somehow managing to survive like a native. 
There’s a lot about Danny that doesn’t add up. 
Duke has seen plenty of different people since he first went out as the Signal. He’s tried to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt, but it leads to his loved ones being put in danger. Some people are truly evil, some working on a malicious agenda, some are misguided in their beliefs, and some are desperate people who see no other way to move forward.
He’s not sure yet which on Danny is, but he’s hoping Danny is just desperate and needs a little help to get out of a life of crime.
Which leads to the next problem: Duke has no idea what Danny is steal, or why. He hits both rich and poor folks, civilians and members of the mob, and once, notably, stole something right out of Cobblepot’s office. Allegedly, at least, since no one saw him enter or exit the office, not even the security cameras. 
But added to the whispers going around about a new group in Gotham snatching people up from the streets, and some strange green substances found in warehouses often raided by police for the frequent drug labs that pop up in them… 
It doesn’t look good for Danny. Especially when a few of the items he stole were found where people either vanished or where that green substance has been found.
A week of analysis in the Batcave and they still don’t know what it is. 
Both Damian and Jason suspected Lazarus water, but the composition was completely different. By the look of the molecular structure, it shouldn’t have been in a liquid form at all. 
All these findings lead back to one person who may have answers: Danny Fenton.
According to Tim, who’s already broken into Danny’s dorm room and checked over all the labs he has classes in, Danny has some concerning items in his possession. Various inventions and little metal knick-knacks put together by a practiced hand. He was also the one to find all the information that went into Danny’s file when it was first being made: social media posts, school report cards, news articles about his parents… everything. 
And then he had an emergency mission to take with the Titans that swept him out of Gotham leaving Duke to tackle this investigation on his own. 
He doesn’t have Tim’s natural skill in stalking and invading privacy. He hates breaking into people’s spaces and following them around, but needs must and he has to force himself to work through the discomfort. 
It’s a good thing he did, too. Danny’s leaving his dorm after his last afternoon class, hood up to hide his face and something held in the front pocket of his hoodie. He ducks around people on the sidewalk easily, almost as if he’s gliding through the crowd instead of walking. 
Duke follows from above, bending the light around him to hide him from sight. 
He walks for some time, weaving through alleys and streets as if he’s been in Gotham his whole life, leaving behind the university campus to head towards Otisberg. There’s something strange about the way Danny walks, as if he’s moving around people who aren’t there, guided by something Duke can’t hear. Even using his meta abilities doesn’t do much beyond show him where Danny’s going to be in the next few seconds. 
He continues to follow Danny on the rooftops, walking along the edge to keep him in sight. 
Then Danny stops behind an apartment building and tilts his head back to look up at it. He tilts his head to the side, then nods and looks around the empty alley. Duke crouches down, keeping his eyes on Danny in the hopes of catching him in the act—
Danny disappears.
Duke curses under his breath and jumps down from the roof, putting more strength into his abilities as soon as his feet touch the ground. 
The space where Danny was has a faint outline, oddly enough. He’s never seen that before. From it is a semi-transparent trail, smoke-like and a pale green leading into the building. It goes straight into a wall, as if Danny walked through it.
He can’t go in and search the entire apartment, but he can grapple up and take a look into the hallways to see where Danny’s heading. If he was looking up, then that’s where he should be heading. 
It doesn’t take any effort to scale the building. There are ledges and windowsills and plenty of handholds for him to propel himself off of, and paired with his powers, Duke is able to find the correct floor in just under two minutes. 
The green smoke slowly dances through the air of the ninth floor, on the east side of the building. If he’s been counting the rooms correctly, then the target of tonight’s burglary has to be apartment 924. 
The curtains are drawn on the window he makes his way over to, and his abilities don’t show him anything helpful for the immediate future. He hates going in blind, especially to a civilian’s home, but capturing Danny takes priority. Duke picks the lock and slides the window up slowly, making sure it stays quiet, then slips into an empty bedroom. 
He makes his way out into the hallway on silent feet, keeping a wary eye on the thin smoke strands of green, curling along the walls. The rest of the apartment is empty as well, pale sunlight slanting across the floor through the blinds. 
Everything is still and silent. Danny’s nowhere to be found. 
Did he miss Danny leaving, somehow? Was this a misdirect to get him out of the way while Danny stole from another location? Did he know Duke was following him?
But no, his ears pick up on the faint sound of clothes rustling. 
Cautiously, Duke turns towards the front door, where the door to the coat closet is open. He focuses on what’s going to happen in the next twenty seconds and sees Danny panic, then disappear from sight again, but a transparent outline of his body is visible just enough to show him where he runs to. Best not to spook him; Duke pulls at the light around him and bends it to hide him from sight.
Then he moves along the wall, getting around the open door without bumping into anyone or anything. 
A figure in front of the coats, shoving them to the side roughly, flickers in and out of view, almost like a reflection in water, distorted by ripples on the surface. 
Danny pops back into visibility suddenly, scowling at the coats. “Are you sure it’s in here?” he asks the empty air. 
There is no answer, but Danny acts like there is. He rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a favor. That I’m doing for you. I can literally stop right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He shoves aside another heavy winter coat, then sighs. “Why don’t you look for it, and then tell me where it is.”
He steps back and bumps into Duke.
Danny whirls around, eyes wide, and blast of green light has Duke crashing back into the wall, trying to blink spots out of his eyes. 
“Wait!” he yells, grabbing for Danny before he can run off. “I just wanna talk!”
“Standing right behind me like a serial killer does not make you look like someone who wants to talk!” Danny yells back, slipping through his hands like mist. 
“I just have a few questions!”
“Well, I have a question: why?!”
“Will you hold still, we’re being too loud!”
Danny escapes to the other side of the apartment, next to a window looking fully prepared to fling himself out of it. But he does stop yelling, so Duke is counting it as a success.
“Why is the Signal coming after me?” Danny asks, glaring at him suspiciously.
“Dude,” Duke says, “You’ve been seen outside of every single building that’s had a burglary since you first arrived in Gotham. All the Bats are after you, they just sent me because I’m the only one active during the day.”
“All the Bats?” Danny repeats, losing what little color he had in his face.
He looks legitimately scared, pale enough to be concerning, and Duke drops his guard and tries to relax the tension in the apartment. “I’m not gonna turn you into the cops or anything. I just had questions and you seem like the most likely person to have answers. That’s it.”
Danny still looks wary, ready to run at a moment’s notice, but he doesn’t leave when Duke approached casually, leaning his weight against the couch. 
“So,” he begins, “What’s the deal with all the thievery? It’s rarely something super rare or expensive.”
There’s a long few minutes where Danny doesn’t answer, looking anywhere but at Duke. Then he twitches a bit and glares off to the side, and says, “I taking items that are contaminated with ectoplasm to help ghosts move through the veil and leave Gotham.”
That tells him nothing! That just gives Duke more questions! But at least it’s an answer, the first one any of them have got.
“I think you’re gonna have to explain a little more.”
“Ghosts are real, alright?”
“Yes.”
Danny stops. Squints at him. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”
“Ghosts are real,” Duke repeats, “There are a few who help heroes or are heroes themselves, but that’s more on the magic side of things so I’m not super familiar with it.”
“Magic,” Danny says slowly. “Sure, alright. Um. Yes, ghosts are real. And there are a ton in Gotham who need help moving on, but they’re too weak to get past the veil. Something about Gotham has made the veil super strong, so they need a little boost to get through. Additional ectoplasm bonded helps with that.”
“And that’s why you’re stealing random things?”
“The ghosts I help can kind of sense ectoplasm-infused things, but they need me to grab them since they can’t hold anything without a physical body.”
Duke nods slowly. “Okay, that’s starting to answer some things. We have found those objects in the last places missing people were seen. Any idea what’s going on with that?”
“Yeah, those people were already dead.”
The way Danny says the most concerning answers as if they’re nothing is really throwing Duke off his game. He was expecting to be calm and serious to keep Danny from freaking out too much and look like a legitimate hero. But as soon as Danny started talking, all his nerves fell away and Duke is left grasping for composure. 
“They were…”
“They were ghosts, yeah. And they needed to get through the veil. But they were also able to possess their own bodies and didn’t realize they were dead until I had to break the news to them, which is why it looks like living people just up and disappeared.”
“Okay… What about the green stuff we’ve been finding?”
“Ectoplasm.” Danny holds up a hand and a neon green light surrounds it. Except it looks more solid than light, as if it can be touched, and it moves on its own like fire around Danny’s fingers. “It’s what ghosts are made of.”
Oh. If Danny has ectoplasm, does that mean…
“Are you dead?” Duke asks, heart dropping. 
Instead of looking upset about the question, or even disturbed by it, Danny just shrugs and waves his hand back and forth. “A little.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Duke says, trying to resist the urge to rub his temples. It’s a habit he didn’t mean to pick up from Batman, and it would just look silly with his helmet in the way. “You’re just doing all this to help ghosts?”
“Yeah. Basically. They asked for help man, of course I was going to help them.”
Danny’s a good person. He’s just a good person to ghosts. But this is good news either way, and he can let the others know that Danny isn’t the next Catwoman and is entirely unconnected from any drug production. Everything that made him look like a criminal is just the fault of ghosts. 
“Speaking of,” Danny continues, “Looks like they found what they need, so I’m going to grab that real quick.” He pushes off of the wall and heads for the closet again, moving past Duke without any fear. Duke follows, keeping a few feet of distance between them so Danny doesn’t feel trapped, and watches as he shoves aside the coats again and pulls a shoebox out of the depths of the closet. From it, he takes a single intricate lace headband and holds it up.
It looks normal, if a little old, but when Danny sends ectoplasm through it, the lace lights up and holds the glow. 
He pulls some strange contraption out of his pocket and holds it up to the headband. It makes a few beeps, then Danny mutters, “7.4 millisieverts. That’s enough to get you through the veil.”
Another concern Duke can let go of: Danny’s not creating weapons like his parents have, he’s just measuring ectoplasm through his own inventions. 
Maybe he could talk to Bruce or Tim about getting Danny an internship at the R&D lab in Wayne Enterprises? That way they could keep a closer eye on him while seeing what he can create in some of the best laboratories in the country.
Well, it might take having them meet Danny before they trust him enough for that, but Duke is sure he can make it happen. 
“I better go see this through, then,” Danny says, shoving the contraption back into his hoodie pocket. He gives Duke a small awkward wave, then pops out of visibility. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he disembodied voice hedges, and Duke smiles.
“I’m sure I’ll be able to find you again.”
“Cool. I gonna go now!” 
He doesn’t see any sign that Danny’s left, but he gets a feeling that he’s alone now, the apartment suddenly emptier than it was before. 
As strange and concerning as Danny and all his bizarre actions were, Duke is glad he was able to finally talk to him and get some answers. Knowing how Gotham pulls people him in, it’s only a matter of time before the other Bats are exposed to Danny’s kind of strange. He’s already looking forward to it. 
For now, though, he has a file to update in the Hatch; POTENTIAL THREAT will be removed and replaced with GHOST HELPER. 
If anyone goes snooping into his files and gets confused, then that’s their problem. Duke’s explained enough. And Danny can take care of the rest, once they go through the effort of tracking him down. Duke's done his part, he's ready for the rest of them to step up to his level.
He can’t wait to see what other kind of trouble Danny can get it into.
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cozage · 1 year
Note
Zoro, Sanji, Luffy, Law, and Ace with fem S/O with healing water powers. The catch is that whenever she uses those powers, she feels pain from the wounds she’s healing. And this isn’t a Devil Fruit ability. It’s sorta like water bending from Avatar.
A/N: I really debated on how to lay this one out, but I chose to have them find out about her power. If anyone wants a head canon follow up on how they act now that they know, send me an ask :) I maybe made this a bit too long, but those soft moments with each of these boys are my WEAKNESS. (Law may seem a little OOC but I truly believe that man gets tunnel vision when he sees you in pain)
Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace
Cw: blood, pain, injuries, angst, all those fun things. Sanji’s contains slight spoilers for WCI
Total word count: 6.3k
The Pain of Healing
Zoro
Word count: 1.2k
“It’s only five more minutes until my Haki returns.” Luffy says between pants, trying to catch his breath. 
“Then I have five minutes to help you. Sit down.” 
Luffy collapsed onto the ground at your command, and you examined his body as he slept. It didn’t look good. His body was riddled with scrapes, scratches, bruises, and he was bleeding out from his side. Several minor injuries could be more painful than large ones, but Luffy had a mix of both. The best thing to do would be to focus on the large ones first, and if you have energy left, fix the small stuff as well. 
You guided water out of your flask and started with the hole in his side. You were used to the pain that came with healing by now, but it still made you flinch every time you started. You had to grind your teeth together to keep from crying out, not wanting to wake Luffy. He needed rest, and you didn’t want him to see the repercussions of your decision to help heal him anyway. 
After five minutes, you’ve taken all of the major injuries away from his body, and you managed to take a few small ones away from him as well. You wipe the tears from your eyes before you shake him awake. 
“It’s time, Luffy. Wake up.” You put on the biggest fake smile you can muster before his eyes flick open. 
“Aw man, that was the best nap in my entire life! I feel amazing!” You stay seated as he stands up, your body too riddled with pain to move. 
“Go get them, Captain!” It hurts to even speak, but Luffy’s already up stretching, too hyped up to notice your exhaustion.
“Thanks for whatever you did to make me feel so great! Leave the rest to me!” Luffy calls back, bounding off to finish the fight. 
Once he’s out of sight, you fold your head into your hands and weep. The pain was immeasurable, and every time you helped Luffy recover, you don’t understand how he’s still alive. You sit there for a long time, crying until there are no tears left. And then you hear cheers from the village nearby, signifying Luffy has won and your work paid off. Knowing that you helped him win makes you feel a little better, and you need to see everyone again. 
You stand up, ready to go meet the rest of the crew, but your body seems to disagree with your movement. Your legs shake, and when you go to take a step, you can feel your body collapsing, falling to the ground. You brace for the impact of your worn body against the solid ground, too tired to do anything else.
It doesn’t come, though. Someone catches you as you stumble forward. Strong arms wrap around your back and your legs, scooping you up and pressing you into his bare chest. Zoro. 
“Easy.” His expression is stone as he stares at you, but you can see worry underneath. “You gonna tell me what the hell you just did to Luffy?” 
You avert your eyes from his gaze, running the tip of your finger along the scar on his chest. “I healed him.”
You can feel his body tense with your words. “That didn’t look like healing to me. And since when do you have a Devil fruit power anyway?”
You bite your lip nervously. Nobody had caught you healing someone before. It wasn’t something you flaunted, or even something you told people about. “It’s not a devil fruit power.”
“Woman, if you don’t tell me-” he breaks off mid sentence, and you look around for any sign of danger. But there’s nobody around besides the two of you. You risk a glance up at him, and you see his face is pained as he stares down at you with a form of understanding. “You took his pain from him, didn’t you?”
Your mouth falls open from shock. You’re not sure how Zoro was able to guess something so accurate after seeing your power one time. You nod, confirming his suspicions. “He’s got an incredibly high threshold for pain tolerance.” 
“How are you still alive?” Zoro shakes you a little when he asks the question, which causes you to groan in pain. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be more gentle. Do you want to sit? Stand?”
The thought of being upright makes you dizzy. “Can you just keep holding me for now?”
He nods, and returns to questioning you about your mysterious power instead. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Yeah.” It hurt to talk honestly, but you didn’t want to tell Zoro that. 
“How often have you been doing this?”
“Only like three or four times for Luffy, I think.” You're certain it’s been more than that, but you can’t tell Zoro that right now. 
“Three or four times?? For Luffy?” You can feel him trying to figure out the meaning behind your cryptic words. 
“There’s been a few other people I’ve done it for too.”
“Have you done it for me?” He's scowling at you, like he already knows the answer you’re going to give and he's waiting to scold you for it. 
“Maybe once or twice,” you lie, and you feel your cheeks burning. He squints at you, and you know you’ve been caught in the lie. But he says nothing, he just readjusts you in his arms to hold you closer. 
He had been walking for a few minutes, and you had almost fallen asleep. He had managed to keep you mostly still while he walked through the destroyed city, and you were too tired to care if he was lost or not. “It’s a neat power,” he finally comments. “You gonna tell me more about it? Or do I need to keep asking questions?”
“Can I tell you later?” You mumble into his chest. Between the safety of Zoro’s arms, the warmth of the sun on your face, and the exhaustion that’s set in from all that pain, it's hard for you to stay conscious. 
Zoro doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and you struggle to stay awake while you wait for an answer. He was never one for mindless chit chat, but you could tell that something was on his mind, so you decide to indulge him.
“It’s not a devil fruit. I was born with it,” You start, and you feel a heavy weight lift off your shoulders with those few words.  You’re so relieved that you can finally tell someone about your secret now. “I was never supposed to let anyone see it being used. If the World Government knew…” You trail off, thinking of how the Navy would turn you into a weapon. You shutter at the thought, and continue on in your explanation. 
“The power isn’t perfect, though. I feel the pain of whoever or whatever I heal. It’s not permanent, but if it’s too much for my body to handle at the moment, I might die. I’m really not sure, I’ve never tried to heal a fatal wound before.”
Zoro is looking off into the distance with a faraway look in his eye. “Just like Kuma.”
“Who?”
“Back on Thriller Bark we met a Marine named Kuma,” Zoro begins to explain, and you focus all your energy into listening to him. “He took all of Luffy’s pain and told me if we wanted to save Luffy, I had to take his pain upon myself. It was just after his big battle with the warlord Moria, and the pain…” he trailed off, and you knew he was reliving the moment in his mind. 
“Does he know about your sacrifice?” 
Your question brings him back to reality, and he looks down at you. He chuckles at your question, and bends over to kiss your forehead. “Does he know about yours?”
Sanji
Some light spoilers for WCI arc
Word Count: 1.2k
You didn’t realize that your ability was keeping Sanji up at night. 
Anytime he had a cut, or a burn, or any other kind of injury, you waited for him to doze off before you pulled out some water and healed his hands. The injuries were never serious, and after a few times, you barely noticed the pain. 
You didn’t mind, and you knew how much your boyfriend valued his hands. It was your silent act of love to him, something you wanted to give him but could never tell him about. One morning after you healed a bad burn, you found him sitting up in bed, staring at his hands. 
“Is something wrong, Sanji dear?”
The cook was examining his hands thoroughly, flipping them over again and again. “I could’ve sworn I had a burn here yesterday.”
Your cheeks tinted at the thought of being found out. “Oh, well maybe you just have superhuman healing powers!” You laugh it off, trying your best to act natural. 
“Yeah, maybe…” You could tell something was bothering him, but he didn't say anything further. 
You caught him staring at his hands throughout the day, as if he was waiting for a bomb to explode. At dinner you noticed a particularly bad cut on the topside of his hand - a cut he must’ve gotten while chopping vegetables - and you made a note to heal it that night. 
He stayed awake later than usual that night, and he seemed more wound up with anxiety than normal. You peppered his face with a few kisses, trying to get him to relax some. 
“Sanji, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He sighed, pulling you into his chest and laying down to finally get some sleep. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
He fell asleep quickly with you pressed into him. His slow, even breaths signified he was finally unconscious, and you pulled out some water to cover his wound. It stung you a bit as his flesh stitched back together, and you let out a low hiss in pain, and you froze as Sanji stirred slightly in his sleep. This wound was deeper than his normal cuts and burns; he must’ve been really distracted when he hurt himself. He wasn’t usually so careless around knives, but you knew whatever was bothering him would be revealed when he was ready to talk to you about it.  
With his wound healed and Sanji’s breath returning to normal, you curled back into place against him, and fell deep into sleep.
You woke to a string of curses falling out of Sanji’s mouth, his body tight and tense against yours. 
“Hm? Sanji?” You rub the sleep from your eyes and open them to find him staring at his hands again. “Sanji, what’s wrong?”
“That’s impossible,” he mumbled, speaking mostly to himself. He looks panicked, staring down at the place where his cut was yesterday. “That’s not humanly possible.”
You feign innocence as you have in the past, but you can’t ignore the nervous look in his eyes. “What is it, Ji?”
“I had a cut here yesterday. It was deep.” His breathing quickened, and you could see that he was scared for some reason. “It couldn’t have healed overnight. It’s not…It can’t be…”
“I’m sure it’s just-”
“You don’t understand.” He cuts you off mid-sentence, something he’s never done before, and it takes you aback. He gets out of bed abruptly, his eyes never leaving his hand.
“Sanji?”
“I need to go. I need to get out of here.” He’s pacing the room now, his stress overflowing into the space between you. 
“Go where? Sanji, calm down. Talk to me-”
“I can’t be here! I can’t endanger you! Or anyone else, for that matter!” His face is contorted with such pain you’ve never seen before. You don’t know what’s going on with your boyfriend, but his reaction to such a small cut is starting to scare you.
You jump out of bed and stride over to him. When you reach him, you clasp his face between your hands, forcing his eyes away from his hands and up to your eyes. His eyes are wide with pure fear, and his breathing is rapid and shallow. You can feel his body shaking as you hold him. 
“Sanji.” You push down your own fear and speak to him in a soothing tone, trying to bring him back to you. “Talk to me.”
“I’m a monster, Y/N.” Tears fill his eyes, threatening to spill out as he speaks. “If my body is regenerating like this…I’m a threat to you all.”
“You’re not,” You whisper. “You’re not a monster, Sanji.” You stand on your tiptoes to try and kiss the space between his eyes, but he pulls away from you.
“You don’t know.” He backs away from you, fear returning to his eyes again. “I am a monster. And now that I’m-”
It’s your turn to cut him off now. “I healed you, Sanji.”
His brows furled in confusion, but his eyes looked less panicked now. “Wha..?”
“I have this power,” you explain. You walk back to the bedside table, gathering some water from a cup and suspending it in the air. “I can heal people with water. I’ve been healing your small injuries for a while now. I wanted to make your life easier, I swear. I’m sorry I kept it from you. I just…I wanted to help.”
You see him relax the more you explain your powers, which was not the reaction you were expecting. He watches you move the water through the air, and tears finally flow from his eyes. 
“Y/N-chan,” he sobs, running over to you, embracing you in a hug. He’s holding you tight, smothering you into his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did you hide it?”
Your face burns against him, embarrassed that you had kept it from him for so long. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t want me hurting myself for you, but-”
“Hang on.” He pulls back from you, peering down at your face with a frown of concern. “You’re being hurt?”
“Just when I heal people,” you rush to explain, seeing his frown deepen. “I just feel the pain of the injuries I’m healing, it’s no big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” he corrects, staring at you disapprovingly. “Promise me you won’t do it anymore.”
“Sanji-”
“Promise, Y/N.”
“No! Let me do this for you!” You’re pouting now, but you know Sanji won’t cave on this matter. You know he can’t let you hurt yourself at his expense. 
“I appreciate that you want to help,” he says sternly. You can hear the love in his voice as he speaks, and you know you’ll have to agree to his request.  “But there are other ways for you to help me without hurting yourself. Please-”
“Fine. Promise.” You give him a fake pout, but when he pulls you back into his chest and holds you tightly, you melt into him. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ji? You seemed scared earlier.”
“I’m fine, really.” He rests his chin on the top of your head, drawing in a long breath before he says more. “I just thought my past was coming back to haunt me again, that’s all.”
You all stand there for a long while, just enjoying eachothers closeness. You only break apart when you hear Luffy screaming for breakfast, and you give him one last kiss on each of his hands before you let him go. 
Luffy
Word Count: 1.1k
“Stay still, idiot.” You held Luffy down, looking at his wound in his foot. 
“I can’t! It hurrrtttssss!” 
“That’s what you get for wearing sandals in the jungle!” You could tell from the way the stick speared through his foot, Luffy wouldn’t be able to walk easily, and you still had another half mile before you made it back to the ship. 
You knew you weren’t supposed to heal people while they were conscious, but this was Luffy. He was the love of your life, and the Strawhats were your only family. If you couldn’t trust them, you deserved to be locked up anyway. 
You sighed, pulling water out of your flask in soft, flowing movements. Luffy was still writhing in pain on the ground, overdramatic in his reaction to his current impalement. It was possible that you might be able to heal him without him even realizing it. 
You surrounded his foot with an orb of water, and imagined the wound being stitched together, just like your mother had taught you. You saw his rubbery skin begin to mend together, and braced yourself for what came next. 
Your grip on Luffy’s ankle tightened when the pain came. It was sharp and fast, and it took the breath out of your lungs. You squeezed your eyes shut, but kept your focus on the wound and the pain that came with it. 
“Wooooahhhh!” You could hear Luffy’s sigh of amazement, and you knew he had caught you healing his wound. “That’s so cool! The hole is just closing up!!”
You didn’t speak, afraid that your voice would betray you. The last thing you wanted Luffy to know was that you were in pain because of the healing process. You could hear him freaking out about how cool it was that his injury was healing before his own eyes, but you did your best to ignore him and focus on the healing process. You kept your eyes closed the entire time, using the level of pain to guide how much longer you had to fix his injury. Finally, the pain dulled, and then disappeared. You dropped his foot and opened your eyes again, trying to ignore the lingering effects that your body was dealing with. 
Luffy was examining his foot closely, looking at it from all angles to see if there was any damage. He stood up, putting all of his weight back on his foot, and jumped up and down a few times. 
“It’s like brand new!” He shouted with glee. He came over to you and wrapped you in a hug. “You’re the best, Y/N!”
--
Over the next few weeks, Luffy offered up your services to others throughout the ship. You knew that Luffy was incapable of keeping secrets, and you had never explicitly asked him to keep that information to himself. You never minded healing your family though, and the injuries were always minor. Luffy sent Ussop to you when he got a burn on his hand, and Franky when he got a bad cut on his face. Chopper sent Zoro when he had a sprained wrist. It wasn’t until Nami came to you with a nasty cut on her shoulder that the secret of your healing was revealed. 
You smiled when she asked, and pulled water out to start the healing process. You coated the wound in a bubble of water, and clenched your jaw to prepare for the worst. 
You were aware of Nami’s eyes watching you. Everyone else watched their own wound magically heal, but her eyes remained on your face, watching for any signs of discomfort on your end. You had a feeling that she was suspicious of your powers already. She had been the most interested member of the crew from the start, asking about the stipulations and origins of your power from the moment she had found out about it. 
You kept your eyes on the gash, trying your best to mentally steel yourself for the pain that would come. You knew it wouldn’t be easy to hide the pain, but you were determined to make it look natural. When the feeling of pain ripped through your shoulder to match her wound, you gritted your teeth and kept your smile, but you could feel your muscles involuntarily twitch. 
If Nami noticed, she said nothing. When you finished, you looked back up at her and let out a shaky breath, smiling. She eyed you suspiciously, but thanked you politely and left you alone. Once the door swung shut, you collapsed back onto the couch you were on, desperately needing a nap after that performance. 
--
Luffy was awoken by a smack on the head. 
“What?” He asked groggily. “Are we at the next island?”
“Are you some kind of sadist,” the tangerine-haired girl scolded, shaking her finger at him. “Or are you just a moron?”
“What are you talking about, Nami?”
Nami rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, staring daggers down at Luffy. “Y/N’s power.”
Luffy rubbed his head, wondering if you could fix headaches. “What about it?”
“She feels pain when she heals people, you idiot. She probably feels whatever pain she’s healing.”
Luffy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that she just healed my shoulder. And she was in some serious pain while she was doing it. She hides it well, but I could tell she was hurting.”
Luffy bit his lip, trying to think back to when you had healed him in the forest. But he had been so amazed at watching his own wound heal, he hadn’t noticed your reaction while you were doing it. 
“She seemed kind of tired after mine, but that’s it. I felt great though, so I carried her back to the ship!”
“So you are just a moron!” Nami punched him again. “No more free healing! Stop taking advantage of her!”
--
You woke up from your nap to rubber arms wrapped around you and Luffy’s round eyes staring at you intensely.
“Good morning,” you groan, trying to pull away from him to stretch. 
He let you go enough to stretch out, but kept a tight grip on you. “Does it hurt?”
You freeze mid-stretch, silently cursing Nami for her hyper awareness. “It just makes me tired.”
“You’re lying.” He knows you so well. You move your fingers up to his hair, twirling his locks around your index finger.
“Yeah,” you sigh the word out. You’re painfully aware of his gaze, transfixed on your face.
 “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because Luffy, it’s not that bad.” Your eyes move back to his finally, and you can see the hurt and confusion that is held within them. “And I like doing what I can to help my family.”
He nods, accepting that answer, and snuggles up into your chest, holding you tightly against him. You let him lay there for a while, twirling his soft strands of hair around in your fingers. There are few quiet moments between you and Luffy, and you cherish every moment you can get like this.
“Nami said no more free healings, by the way.”
You laugh and give his forehead a quick kiss. “Guess I’ll have to charge you double.”
Law
Word Count: 1.2k
“Fuck.”
Law’s breath was ragged as you pressed into his stomach wound. Blood coated your hands as you tried to stop the bleeding, but it didn’t seem to be working very well. 
“I just need to...” Law coughed, and you could see red staining his lips. A small blue orb began to form in his palm, but it flickered out quickly. He was too weak to use his devil fruit powers.
“Fuck.” You repeated. There was only one thing you could do now. It meant exposing your secret and showing your captain your biggest weakness, but you’d do anything to save him. 
You pulled away from his wound, and let your hands guide water from your flask, maneuvering it through the air. “Don’t freak out,” you say, and you cover the wound in water. You let it sit for a moment, and then begin imagining the wound healing. 
It started as a dull, throbbing pain in your stomach. You began to think you were getting used to the pain, but then it began to grow, turning sharp and stabbing. You flinched at the sudden change in pain, but held your focus. 
Law watched you work for a few moments with wide eyes, unsure what was happening or what he could do. You wanted to scream from the pain that was growing rapidly, but you held your tongue, hoping he didn’t notice your facial expressions contorting into pain. Tears filled your eyes, and you finally felt Law move into action, his hand gripping around your wrists. 
“Stop,” he demanded, trying to push your arms away from his wound. You ignore his demand, keeping your arms locked against him, continuing the healing process at your expense. 
“Stop! Y/N-ya, Stop it!” His voice rose in pitch, and you could tell he sensed your pain. His efforts to push you away are getting stronger, proof that his energy is returning to him. You feel relieved in the fact that he is healing, even if it is exhausting you in the process. 
He finally succeeds in pushing you off him, and you fall backwards to the ground and lay there, dazed and stunned from your work. He quickly straddles you and pins your arms to the ground to ensure you’ve fully stopped whatever you had started doing to him. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” Law stares down at you, angry and scared of what you’ve done. 
You know his rage is out of fear, and you give him a small smile, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. “You okay now?”
He stares at you, baffled at your question. He has energy now, and his wound in his stomach is almost completely healed. He knows it’s due to you, but he doesn’t know how you’ve managed to heal him so quickly. Fear. Betrayal. Anger. So many emotions run through him all at once. He has so many questions that he doesn’t know where to start. 
He tightens his grip around your wrists, keeping you pinned down. “Explain.”
“It’s a power I was born with,” you say, closing your heavy eyes. “I can heal other people’s injuries through water.”
Law watches you carefully, certain that you’re hiding something. He squeezes your wrists tighter until you finally open your eyes again, looking anywhere but at him. 
You can’t make eye contact with him or you know you’ll tell him everything. You can’t afford for him to know your secret, it was bad enough that he knew this much. 
“You were in pain.” He says it as a statement, not a question.
You squirm from underneath him, trying to get free, but his grip doesn’t let up. He’s determined to get to the bottom of what you just did. He needs to protect you. He needs to keep you safe from all harm, even if that means protecting you from yourself. 
“Let go.” You say, still trying to get free. His grip is starting to become painful, and you try to pull your arms away from him again. “You’re hurting me, Law. Let go.”
His eyes stare down at you, unmoving from his current position. The more you squirm, the tighter his grip gets, and you know he won’t let go until he has an answer. “Y/n-ya, why were you in pain?”
“It’s a side effect!” You cry out in frustration, finally giving in. You suspect he knew the moment he saw it. “I feel the person’s pain as I heal them.”
In his shock, Law’s hands loosen their grip, and you finally pull free from him. You try to turn away from him, but he’s still sitting on your stomach, and you don’t have enough energy to push him off. You rub at your wrists, trying to get the sting from his grip out of your body.
Law is frozen, staring down at you with wide eyes. He grits his teeth, watching you massage your wrists. “I’m sorry,” he says, reaching for your hands again, more gentle this time. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
You let him grab one of your hands, and he begins massaging your wrists gently, whispering apologies to you. You close your eyes and try to forget that you’ve broken your number one rule about your power: telling other people. You focus on his wrist massage for a while, his own way to apologize for his outburst.
“Y/n-ya?”
“Hm?”
“Why did you save me?”
You sigh, opening your eyes again. This time, you meet his gold eyes, radiant against the sunlight. “You never want anyone to save you, Captain.”
“It’s my job as a ca-”
“I saved you because I love you, you idiot.”
You can see Law’s eyes twitch in surprise; his hands freeze against your wrist. 
“You don’t get to decide what sacrifices I make for you,” you continue. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do to save you. That’s my decision. You’ve made many sacrifices for me, some extremely painful ones. Remember the incident at Low Sand Creek?”
Law doesn’t respond, but he slowly starts to massage your wrists again, which you take as a sign to keep talking. 
“I don’t get to criticize your decisions on sacrifice. And you don’t get to criticize mine either. I love you, and I know you love me. Do I want you to risk your life for me? No. But that’s just something I have to live with. And so do you. Okay?”
Your captain says nothing, and you can tell he’s sulking over your lecture. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have to do this with him. Law was one of the smartest people you knew, but relationships weren’t really his strong suit. It resulted in you having to do a lot of explaining and voicing your needs.
“Law, do you understand?” You insist, needing to stand your ground. He had a tendency of not responding when he didn’t agree with something.  
He huffs out an irritated breath. “Okay.”
You scrunch your face at him, shooting him a semi-fake glare. 
“I understand, okay?!”
You twisted your hand to intertwine with his, and grabbed his other hand with your free one so that both of his hands were now holding each of yours. You locked eyes with him, and you could see there was something else there, something that was bothering him. 
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
He was quiet for a moment, as if he were working up the courage to admit whatever he was feeling. His eyes moved away from your gaze and focused on one of his hands instead, still intertwined with yours. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice comes out slightly choked, and you realize that you had forgotten to explain the most important part to him. 
Your cheeks redden, embarrassed at your oversight. His eyes snapped back to yours, and now it was your turn to avoid eye contact.  
“It’s… I was told to never tell anyone about it. Or let someone else see it.”
You can feel him staring at you, his eyes willing you to look at him, but you refuse. He waits patiently, and you know he’s asking you a silent question: Don’t you trust me?
“I trust you, I just…” Neither you or Law had really talked about your past much. You preferred to live for the now, for the future. The past was just too painful to think about. “People died protecting that secret. I didn’t want to add more names to that list.”
Law gave a dark chuckle at your response. “And after all that preaching about not deciding who gets to make sacrifices.”
Now it’s your turn to sulk. “That is not-“
He cuts you off, pulling you up to meet him, and his lips collide with yours. 
He pulls back briefly, basking in your beauty. “No more secrets. Promise?”
“Promise.” 
Ace
Word Count: 1.5k
Ace wasn’t used to being hit, and when someone made contact with him, it hurt. He grimaced as he limped from battle, blood dripping down his leg from the giant puncture wound in his thigh. You had your arm around him, helping him run, but his injury was slowing you both down, and the enemy was closing in quickly.
“Sit,” you commanded. “Let me help.”
“I just need to get back to Marco, he can help.” His breathing was labored, and you knew he was expending too much energy just speaking to you. 
“I can heal too.” You helped him sit down, and you could feel his eyes staring at you, trying to understand your cryptic words. You chose to ignore him for now, and examined the wound. It was deep, but manageable. You braced yourself, and summoned some water out of your flask, covered his wound, and focused on stitching it back together. 
Pain ripped through you, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself focused. It wasn’t the worst pain you had felt, but the wound was deeper than you had initially thought, and you could feel your muscles tearing apart, just like Ace’s had when he was cut. You knew that it was just a phantom pain, no actual bodily harm was being done to you, but it was still pain nonetheless. 
You could feel tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, but you refused to stop until the job was done. You watched his muscle stitch back together, and when it was finally completely healed, you sat back and closed your eyes, exhausted and riddled with aches. 
When you opened your eyes again, you could see Ace in front of you, you could feel him shaking you violently. He was screaming something, but you couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying over the loud ringing in your ears. Slowly, your hearing returned, and you realized he was screaming your name. 
“Ace.” Your words were slow. You were still trying to come out of the fog of pain that always came with healing. “Stop shaking me.”
He finally stopped, but his hands were still tightly gripping your shoulders. He was staring at you in terror, fear spread across his face. 
“What were you doing?” His voice was loud and piercing, causing you to flinch. “How did you…What do…Where did…” He struggled to find the right words, and you stared at him with still-glazed eyes while he tried to form a sentence. You were struggling to refocus after the pain, and were thankful that Ace was tongue-tied for the moment. 
Ace took a breath, finally able to form a sentence. “I didn’t know you had a devil fruit power.”
“I don’t.” Normally you let people believe whatever they wanted in order to guard your secret, but this was Ace. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. “It’s just an ability I was born with. I can heal people with water.”
Ace’s facial expressions had always been easy to read. Even in your dazed state, you watched as his concern turned to shock and then to confusion. You waited for the inevitable question to come, and it did. “If you’ve had this power, why haven’t you used it more often?” 
“I…” you hesitate. You didn’t want to tell him the weakness of your ability. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because you did. You knew that if Ace discovered the trade off of your powers, he would never want you to suffer for him or anyone else. 
You had told Marco about your power when you joined the crew, and the doctor had forbid you using your ability except in dire circumstances. Marco trusted you to make judgment calls on what you could handle, but you didn’t think Ace would feel the same way. 
You could hear the enemy's battle cries getting closer, and you take the opportunity to avoid the question. “Let’s go. We need to get back to the ship.”
Ace stands, and you follow to do the same. You take a bit longer to get to your feet, still light-headed from the trade off of healing Ace. His attention has shifted to the enemy pursuing you now, and thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice your sluggish movements. 
Ace’s fist becomes engulfed with flames, and he stands between the enemy and you. “Go back to the ship, I’ll hold them off.” 
“Idiot! That’s what got us here in the first place!” 
“Yeah,” He smirked back at you like the devilish fiend you knew he was. “But this time I won’t lose.”
You can feel your knees start to go weak, but you’re not sure if it’s from exhaustion or from the man in front of you. You hate to leave him, but you know you’ll only be a liability in this fight. With Ace’s energy replenished and the ability to fight in an open space, he’d finish off the enemy easily now. 
“You better not die.” Your words hang in the air, and you take off towards the Moby Dick. 
As soon as you got aboard the ship, you went straight to your room. You didn’t bother giving a report. Ace would do that when he returned. Sleep was what you needed now. 
You woke with arms wrapped around you tightly, and the warm body of Portgas D. Ace pressed against your back. You weren’t sure how long you had slept, but there was no longer any light coming in through the porthole in your room. You shifted, trying to get out of Ace’s grasp without waking up, but his strong arms tightened against you when you moved, keeping you close to him. 
For a long while you laid in the silence, unsure if Ace was asleep or awake. He wasn’t snoring like he normally did when he was asleep and he refused to let you move away from his grasp, but his breaths were even and he didn’t speak to you. You didn’t mind the quiet, your body was still exhausted from the fighting and the pain of healing today, and Ace’s warmth was almost therapeutic against your tired body.
“Your healing…” Ace's voice finally breaks the silence, making you tense from surprise. His voice was low and quiet in your ear. “It hurts you, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
You can hear the sadness in his voice, and you know that he’s figured it out. Whether he solved it on his own or if Marco told him, it didn’t matter now. You’ve always been a bad liar, and you could never bring yourself to lie to Ace anyway.
He squeezed you tighter, pulling you closer to him. There was another long pause, and you let him hold you while he processed everything. 
“How bad is it?” His voice is level, but you can hear it beginning to grow thick with tears. 
“It depends on what I heal. I just feel the pain of the injury.”
His forehead presses into the crook of your neck, and his breath becomes shallow and ragged. You can feel his emotions coursing through him, and all you want to do is comfort him. You squirm, trying to flip over so you see his face while you talk, but his iron tight grip refuses to let you move. 
“Ace,” you speak gently, your hands pulling at his arms, and his grip loosens just enough for you to turn over onto your other side. You’re laying face to face with him now, but his eyes are squeezed shut. His freckled cheeks are wet with tears, and your heart constricts seeing his sadness. 
You press your forehead against his, and use your free hand to brush some of his hair away from his face. You continue softly sweeping your fingers through his hair, soothing him as you speak. “It’s not so bad, Ace. But that's why I don’t use it very often.”
His eyes are still closed, but you feel his hands ball into fists against your back, gathering the fabric of your shirt in them.
“Why did you use it to save me then?” His voice comes out more of a demand than a question. It’s harsh, and you know he’s angry. Maybe at you, maybe at himself, probably both. His question makes you freeze, your fingers still entangled in his strands of hair. 
You feel a slight prick of irritation at his question. You pull your head back and tilt his face up to look you in the eyes, but they’re still tightly shut. “Look at me,” you demand, your tone matching his from a moment ago. You feel him stiffen slightly at the intensity of your words, but his dark eyes open to meet your own. 
Your hands find his cheeks, cupping his face, and you press your forehead back into his. Your eyes never leave his, and you can feel his grip against your back finally start to soften as he focuses on you instead of what you’ve done. 
“I did it.” You pause for a moment, still staring at him. God, he was so stupid. You swipe your thumb across his freckles, wiping the tears from his sad, sweet eyes. “Because you deserve to be saved.”
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punkshort · 3 months
Text
somewhere to run | 6. the confession
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Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Joel finds out the truth and convinces you to press charges.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, domestic violence and SA (discussed after the fact), mental and physical abuse, detailed conversations about DV and SA (I didn't get too descriptive about the SA but I do use the R word a couple times) please let me know if I missed anything because there is a lot going on here
WC: 9K
A/N: as the title implies, we are going to get more details about what happened to reader in this one so once again, please heed the warnings and don't read if you think it will be triggering for you. I tried not to be too graphic.
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Joel could hardly sleep that night. Instead of going to the station, he headed home so he could be with Sarah. She wondered why he got home so early from his date, but he dodged the question and the two of them worked together in silence - Sarah on her homework, Joel on his incident report. When she asked him why he was working from home, he just shook his head and said something came up. She was a smart girl. She knew something was bothering him, but she didn't push it and he was grateful.
He tossed and turned all night, his mind reeling while he looked at his phone every few minutes. He checked the volume, he made sure do not disturb was off, wondering if you would reach out, but you never did. Maybe it wasn't unusual for Patrick to not come home. Or maybe you heard what happened and you were mad at Joel. That worried him the most. The fear that his actions might have destroyed what fragile relationship he had left with you ate him up as he stared blankly at his ceiling.
Morning came too quickly and too slowly all at once. He rubbed his tired eyes as he dragged himself into the bathroom. When he leaned forward to turn the water on, he was met with a sharp pain in his chest. He glanced down, rubbing the area tenderly and realized a large bruise was forming from his fight the night before. He winced when he pressed on a particularly sensitive spot and tried his best to avoid the area during his shower.
After he dropped Sarah off at school, he headed into work, his heart beginning to beat faster the closer he got to the station. He had no doubt in his mind the whole town knew what happened last night, but he was too tired and too overwhelmed to care about their curious questions and senseless gossip.
When he walked in, he breezed right past Helen's desk with a curt nod, doing his best to avoid all eye contact until he was within the safety of his office. He booted up his ancient computer and waited, his thumb rubbing mindlessly against his lower lip as he stared out his window.
He would go to the diner today. He already decided he had to see you. The radio silence was killing him and he needed to make sure you were okay. He was embarrassed about the Facebook messages, even more so that you weren't the one to read them, but Patrick was right. They were not innocent. The words held more weight than they appeared, but he had to come to terms with the fact that you were not his, and then maybe with some closure, he would be able to move on.
The morning dragged on slowly. Bobby caught him at the coffee maker, already working on his third cup, depending solely on the caffeine to help keep him going.
"Hey, boss. You look like shit, but not as bad as him," Bobby said, pouring himself more coffee and jutting his chin to the back of the building where the holding cells were located.
"Feel like shit," Joel mumbled, leaning against the counter and taking a sip from his mug.
"Think you broke his nose," Bobby added, finally looking up at him. "Called the doc but turns out he's real busy this mornin', won't be able to come by til after hours. Such a damn shame," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Joel understood what he was saying without him having to say it. The people in this town looked out for one another and didn't take kindly to a stranger hurting one of their own. They were leaving Patrick to deal with his injuries longer than necessary.
"I don't think I broke anythin', he did that all on his own chargin' into that table," Joel said, but Bobby shook his head.
"Not the way he tells it," he replied with a chuckle. "You'd think you nearly killed him, the way he's been whinin' back there."
"No doubt lookin' for a lawsuit," Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Don't worry, boss. You got a bar full'a witnesses. Hank already offered to give a statement and he was probably the only sober one there."
"Yeah, good. Thanks," Joel replied, pushing off the counter to head back to his office, trying to ignore the sideways glances of the men watching him from the bullpen. He shook his mouse and grimaced when he saw an email from the mayor looking to set up a meeting with him that week to discuss the incident. He knew he did nothing wrong, but the more attention this brought him, the worse he felt. Eventually, all of that talk would make its way back to you and Sarah, the truth most likely getting distorted along the way. He made a mental note to have a talk with his daughter that night as he slowly typed out a response to the mayor.
He swore he would try to get some actual work done, but he ended up spending more time staring out the window or at his phone, watching the minutes tick by til it was lunchtime and he could see you. Maybe he could pull you aside and talk to you in private. Maybe he could fix this.
The moment the clock read a reasonable hour, he jumped up from his seat and snatched his blazer from the coat hook, rolling his shoulders as he walked and put it on, then stifling a grunt when he felt a muscle in his chest pull from the effort.
He kept his head down as he walked down the street towards the diner, only glancing up once when he passed the pizza place. Your curtains were still drawn, no lights on that he could see, no sign of life.
A few people called out to him as he passed, but all he could muster was a tight smile and quick wave, not in the mood to get wrapped up into any conversations.
When he swung the door open, his eyes immediately went to the counter, searching you out but only finding Betty. Before he had a chance to look around the dining room, he heard María greet him.
"Where the hell were you last week?"
"I was here Friday," he muttered, looking around and avoiding her eyes.
"Yeah, with Nikki. Heard some stuff about that-"
"Is she here?" Joel asked, finally dragging his gaze to meet Maria's. She frowned and shook her head.
"No, she called in sick," Maria said, watching him carefully. "Joel, what's going on with you two? People are saying stuff about you and her husband, and-"
"She's sick?" Joel repeated, panic beginning to bubble to the surface. Maria nodded and shrugged.
"Yeah, people get sick, Joel. Hey! Where are you going?"
Joel didn't reply, he just hurried out the doors, nearly knocking down a middle aged couple as they were about to walk inside. He mumbled an apology as he jogged down the street towards your place.
Something was wrong.
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Your eye cracked open when you heard the doorbell, the heavy thudding in your head making you immediately nauseous. You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut, rolling back under the covers. Maybe if you were quiet, Patrick would think you were at work and he would leave. But the bell kept ringing, the sound pinging around in your brain making the headache you already had so much worse.
When he began pounding on the door and shouting from the street, you dragged yourself out of bed and wrapped yourself in a thin robe. You knew your body couldn't take much more, but letting him in would be better than allowing him to make a scene in front of the whole town, so you forced your feet forward, still limping from the day before.
You had to pause in the doorway to catch your breath as you clutched your side, wincing in pain as you tried to gingerly walk down the steps, but you were taking too long and he just kept pounding and shouting and the all noise was making you sick.
"Stop," you called out weakly, not convinced he would even hear you, but miraculously he did because the noise finally ceased, and you sighed a small breath of relief.
Shakily, you reached out to grip the doorknob, your fingers fumbling with the locks until you finally managed to twist the brass handle, opening the door just a sliver, worried people walking by would see your face. Then, unexpectedly, you heard Joel's voice instead of Patrick's say your name softly and before you could peer around the door, you went to quickly shut it with no success. His hand gripped the door tightly, but you held firm, hiding behind the wood.
"You shouldn't be here," you told him, your voice weak and broken.
"I know you're mad at me but I gotta talk to you 'bout what happened," he said from the other side. "Please let me in."
Unbeknownst to you both, you were talking about two different things.
"If he finds you here... no, you have to leave," you said, pushing the door again, but he didn't budge.
"Patrick?" he questioned, sounding confused.
"Yes, Patrick," you rasped, getting dizzy from exerting so much energy in your weakened state. "Please just go."
"He's in jail, did - no one told you?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice down.
"Jail?" you repeated, and your grip on the door loosened in surprise. Joel felt it and took the opportunity to open it further. You stepped back quickly, wrapping the robe around you tighter and trying to fidget with your hair to hide the marks, but you knew it was pointless the moment you saw his face after closing the door behind him.
"What the fuck?" he whispered, his jaw dropping as his eyes slowly raked over your face, neck and arms. Your lip was swollen and cut, the scab breaking open and beginning to weep the more you spoke. Your cheekbone had a light purple bruise blooming under your skin, as did your jaw. There was a small gash near your hairline and what looked like scratch marks down your neck, leading past your collar bone and below your robe. When you shakily brought your hands up to cover your face in shame, he saw the dark bruises on your wrists.
"Oh my god," he whispered, unable to bring his voice any louder. When he reached out, you flinched away and he felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.
"You should go," you said quietly, your eyes pinned to the ground.
"I can't," he said in utter disbelief. "I can't... why didn't you call me?"
You looked like you were about to reply but decided against it and instead still kept your gaze averted.
"C'mon, lemme take you upstairs and get a look at you," he said, reaching out again, but you stumbled backwards, nearly falling onto the steps.
"Please don't touch me," you told him, holding up a hand, and he nodded.
"Okay, I won't touch you," he said, trying to remain calm while his heart was breaking. "Let's just go upstairs, alright?"
Reluctantly, you agreed and slowly ascended the steps, Joel following dutifully behind. He ushered you over to the couch, making sure you were seated before he went to your bathroom, rummaging around in your medicine cabinet while you sat there, your face buried in your palms and trying not to cry.
He came back into the living room, trying not to make you feel worse by hiding his reaction, but it was hard. He swallowed and dropped his eyes to the assortment of first aid items in his hands.
"Did you take anything for the pain?" he asked, his voice thick, his throat tight.
"Not today, no," you admitted softly. He nodded and shook out two white pills from a bottle and handed them to you before getting you some water. While safely in the kitchen where you couldn't see him, he let out a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down. How could this happen? How didn't he see it? He should have checked on you earlier. He never should have fucking let you leave with Patrick yesterday. Guilt racked his brain as he exhaled slowly and went back to you in the living room.
"Here," he said, handing you the bottle of water. You took it and popped the pills in your mouth, wincing as you swallowed them down.
He sat down on the couch next to you but was sure to give you your space as he picked up the antiseptic and some gauze.
"Will you let me?" he asked, holding up the items in his hand. You paused and looked at them, then him. His eyes were wide and soft and shiny with unshed tears. Slowly, you nodded and watched as he twisted off the cap and put some of the antiseptic on the gauze, first pressing it gently against the gash on your forehead, then making a fresh one for your lip.
At first, he dabbed at the cut gently, ghosting over your skin as if he were afraid. But then he brought his other hand up to caress your chin, his fingers feather-like and so careful that it made your eyes flutter shut, his touch unlike anything you were used to. When you finally opened your eyes again, his hands were gone and he was staring at you, the look in his eyes morphing from sadness to one you were much more familiar with.
"I'm gonna fuckin' kill him," he said menacingly, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Don't," you said, shaking your head, but his eyes darkened and his jaw was set.
"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart? I could've done somethin'. I could've-"
"What? What could you have done, Joel? I've heard it all before," you told him, your lip trembling. "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. And it never works. Nothing ever changes and it just gets worse."
Joel shook his head, still not understanding.
"I'm a cop, I coulda protected you. There's laws in place for this kinda thing."
"I've gone to the cops, Joel! More than once! And they all told me the same shit!" you exclaimed, getting worked up now. "Then I go home, and magically my statement goes missing, or my medical exam report, and I'm in worse shape than before because guess what? It makes him really fucking mad when his buddies on the force find out what he does to his wife at home."
Joel's lips parted as he watched your chest heave for breath, the energy quickly draining from your frail body.
"I... I'm so sorry," was all he could say. He couldn't blame you for not trusting anyone, especially him, now that he finally knew the truth. Everything was starting to make sense. His guilt was pulling him down and he felt like he was drowning in it. So many things he should have done. Should have seen. He should have helped you but instead he trotted Nikki in front of you to make you feel even worse.
"I can really help you, though. I ain't like that," he said, scooting a little closer to you.
"I've heard that before, too," you said sadly, dropping your gaze to the ground. "There's no getting out of this. I thought by running I could try to start over, but it's clear now he will never let me go." You closed your eyes as two tears fell down your cheeks. You wiped them away angrily, hating yourself for being so weak all the time.
Joel felt his chest squeeze, his heart breaking as he watched you fall apart. He needed to do something. He couldn't let you down. You needed to get out of this, or else it could cost you your life.
"Look at me," he said, waiting until your tears slowed and you forced your eyes open. "I promise I'll help you. I fuckin' promise you, alright? You ain't in Pennsylvania, I ain't his buddy, and I will do whatever I gotta do to keep you safe."
You searched his face, eyes all wide and your heart sliced open, lying on the table between you. You've been let down so many times, it was so hard to tell when anyone was being truthful anymore, but you couldn't deny what you felt for him. And what he felt for you. You knew something was there, something real and honest and pure. He wouldn't have any reason to lie to you at this point, so after a moment, you nodded.
"Okay," you whispered, and you could see the relief flood his face.
He sat back on the couch and rubbed his chin in thought, staring at the TV screen across from him that wasn't even on while the gears in his tired head worked overtime.
"Alright," he finally said, slapping his knees and standing up from the couch. "First things first: you gotta get to a doctor."
You immediately recoiled and shook your head.
"Absolutely not."
"I'm sorry, but you have to. I gotta..." he trailed off and chewed the inside of his cheek before pushing onward. "I gotta have a doctor take pictures."
Your face instantly crumpled and you buried your face in your hands once again.
"I'm sorry," he whispered for what felt like the hundredth time, getting down on one knee to be eye level with you. "But in order for this to work, they gotta record evidence, okay?"
"Joel, I can't," you whimpered, your face still covered, but he nodded and caressed the side of your head with his palm.
"Yes, you can. I'll be right there, okay? Unless you don't want me there, but I'll go with you if you want. Or I'll wait outside the door. Whatever you need, I'll do it. I'm gonna get you outta this."
You sniffled and finally dropped your hands to your lap, your gaze finding his.
"This is the last time, I promise you," he said, staring deep into your eyes. "I'll never let him near you again."
You thought his words over for a moment, the two of you sitting in silence, looking at the other. One trying to earn trust, the other trying to give it. Finally, you closed your eyes and nodded, giving your consent for what was to come.
"Okay," Joel said softly, dropping his hand from your face and standing up to pull out his phone.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm lookin' up the number of a doctor I trust. She's a woman, too. She's real nice and sensitive. I've used her for a couple cases in the past," he said, finding the number and dialing it, bringing the phone up to his ear. Cases. You couldn't help but feel like just another victim the way he said it, even though he didn't mean it that way. You listened as he spoke to her over the phone in a hushed tone, not giving too much of your information away but insisting it was an urgent matter. When he hung up, he turned to you with a weak smile.
"She can see you this afternoon."
"Oh," you said, glancing down at your appearance. You weren't expecting to leave the house that day and you weren't sure what to do.
"It's okay," he said, sitting down next to you again and resting his hand on your knee. "I'll take you through the backdoor of her office, no one'll see you. She'll be fast."
You nodded and looked up at him.
"Maybe I should shower," you said. He paused and shifted his gaze away.
"You, uh," he cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers. He knew this would come up, one way or another. "I don't mean to get into too much detail, but if he..." Joel trailed off, finding it difficult to finish his sentence. "If he did more than hit you, you shouldn't shower," he finally choked out, unable to look you in the eye.
You froze, finally understanding what he meant. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall, his neck tensing, his nostrils flaring, as he waited for your response.
"I won't shower, then," you finally said, your voice strained.
His eyes slid shut and he dropped his chin to his chest. Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he tried to steady his breathing.
"I'll just go change," you mumbled, standing up while he nodded, still trying to breathe.
He did his best to collect himself while you were out of the room, but he could feel himself spiraling. What was he doing when it happened? Was he watching a movie with Sarah? Was he eating dinner? Was he getting ready for his fucking date with Nikki?
He could feel the tears welling up but he quickly wiped them away. You needed him to be strong. You needed someone to help you, to take care of you. He couldn't afford to be weak right now. He would let himself feel it later, when he was all alone at home and Sarah was asleep. When nobody needed him and he could just let the guilt and shame and sorrow wash over him.
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"Jesus, Joel," Carol muttered as she left the exam room. Joel jumped up from his seat, anxiously waiting for it to be over. He rubbed his palms against his pants, trying to wipe the sweat away. She sighed and looked up at him, taking off her glasses.
"So?"
"So?" she repeated, shaking her head. "So, I have your evidence."
Joel nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"She's been through a lot," Carol said softly, walking him down to her office for privacy. She closed the door but he didn't sit down.
"She's gonna be lookin' for me," he explained, jutting his thumb over his shoulder.
"I'll be quick," she said, sitting down at her desk with a sigh. "There was significant scarring and healed bones, detailing years of abuse, and definitely evidence of some most recently."
"Yeah, I imagine anyone can see that by just lookin' at her face," he replied, but she shook her head.
"I didn't mean her face."
Joel felt his breath get caught in his throat.
"Right," he finally said, his voice cracking.
"She said her husband is a cop?" Carol asked, flipping open a yellow file on her desk. Joel nodded.
"Got him in lockup right now for swingin' on me at Hank's," he explained.
Carol's eyes glanced up at his and she quirked an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I heard something about that," she said, lacing her fingers together and looking at him closely. "Can I give you some advice, Joel?"
He shifted his weight, not sure where she was going with it, but nodded anyway.
"Don't take her statement yourself. Have someone else do it, alright?"
"Why?" he asked quickly, and she gave him a knowing look.
"Because it'll be gruesome, and you're too involved."
Joel frowned.
"Too-"
"Don't care what you've got going on with her, I'm just giving you some friendly advice. Let someone else do it," she said, her eyes softening. "Besides, you got into it with her husband last night. You don't want some hot shot lawyer tossing out her testimony in court because he can link together some personal relationship between you two."
Joel considered her words for a moment and reluctantly nodded. She was right. He was having a hard time keeping things separate, and he appreciated the clarity. He couldn't fuck this up for you. Not now.
"Anythin' else?"
She leaned back in her chair and shook her head.
"You'll have my report in the morning," she said. He nodded, thanking her again for seeing you on such short notice before exiting the room. He turned the corner just as you were opening the exam room door clutching a worn hoodie around yourself and looking around frantically before your eyes fell on him and you visibly relaxed.
"Hey, sorry. You alright?" he asked, his hands gently coming up to your shoulders to guide you towards the back exit. You gulped and nodded.
"Wasn't so bad," you said.
"Good. You did the right thing," he said as he held open the door for you and led you back to his truck.
Once you were comfortably seated and Joel merged back into traffic, you shot him a sideways glance and asked him the question that had been weighing on your mind since he came over that morning.
"Joel?"
"Hm?" he said, twisting his head to the side to change lanes.
"Why is Patrick in jail?"
Joel's grip on the steering wheel tightened and there was an uncomfortable pause before he sighed.
"He came at me last night. We happened to both be at a bar at the same time, he was drunk and swung on me."
"What?!" you exclaimed, twisting around in your seat to look at him.
"I thought you knew since he didn't come home last night. Thought you were avoidin' me by callin' off work," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.
"No, I had no idea. He hasn't been staying at my apartment, he has a motel room somewhere," you said, peering at his face, then dropping your gaze to his hands where you could see now his knuckles were a little red.
"Are you okay?" you asked after a beat, and he scoffed.
"Am I okay?" he repeated with a shake of his head. He looked at you in shock, the corner of his mouth turning up into a half smirk. "I'm fine. Can't believe you'd be worried 'bout me after what you went through."
"Of course I worry about you," you said softly, and he felt his heart melt. Why did you have to be so sweet? After everything you've been through, after everyone in your life has let you down, you were still so fucking sweet.
He wanted to say more. He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn't. He couldn't put that kind of stress on you. It would be selfish to tell you how much he thinks about you, how much he wished you were his, how he hasn't been able to get you out of his head since the moment he laid eyes on you. No, that would be wrong. It wasn't the right time, so he swallowed the words back from the tip of his tongue and focused on the road.
"What's next?" you asked him as he walked you up to your front door. Mercifully, the weather was threatening to downpour so the streets were quiet.
"Well, next you'll have to come down to the station and give your statement so we can formally press additional charges," he said, knowing you wouldn't want to hear it but he was surprised when you simply nodded your head.
"Okay. When?"
"Tomorrow?" he offered, and you nodded again as you unlocked your door.
"I'll have to call off work or come by after," you told him, stepping inside and turning to look at him.
"Listen, 'bout that," Joel began, and you frowned. "I gotta tell Tommy."
"No!" you cried, your eyes going wide with worry, but he shushed you and shook his head.
"I gotta tell him so he can keep an eye on things, alright? I won't be able to keep him in lockup for much longer and I can't be with you all the time to protect you, d'you understand?"
"Joel..." you whimpered, burying your face in your hands. He had to physically restrain himself from pulling you into his arms. He fucking hated seeing you like this.
"We can file a restraining order tomorrow but a piece of paper won't necessarily keep him away, and I can't risk it," Joel explained, his heart breaking for you.
"Okay," you sniffled, finally coming to terms with it. If you were going to do this, you had to trust him.
"Okay," Joel repeated. "Tommy served in the Army, he knows what he's doin', I promise. I'll tell him to keep it quiet, alright?"
"Yeah," you whispered, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.
"And no more walkin' back from work in the dark. Take your car or get a ride. If I can, I'll drive you - " Joel pulled out his phone to look at his calendar, but you stopped him.
"I can manage, but thank you."
You looked at one another for a moment, both of you unsure what else to say. You were thankful for what he was doing but you weren't sure you had the words to properly express your gratitude. Everything you wanted to say felt so small, so insignificant. So instead of attempting to cobble together some sentence that wouldn't do your feelings justice, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face against his warm chest. He quickly brought his arms up around you in return, gently placing his hands on your head and back as he held you carefully against him, as if he was worried you would break. He was absolutely certain you could feel how hard his heart was thumping in his chest, but he didn't care. He just wanted to feel you, to hold you, to keep you safe.
"It's gonna be okay," he told you, his voice heavy, and he felt you nod against him before pulling back, his chest suddenly feeling so empty.
"Thank you," you whispered, then spared him one more glance before heading inside, the door clicking shut softly behind you.
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Later that evening, after you had forced yourself to eat some soup and drink some water, you were settling in on your couch when you heard a soft knock at your door. You muted your TV and strained your ears to listen. It didn't sound like a familiar knock, not one filled with anger or urgency. You glanced down at your phone, wondering if Joel had sent you a text that you missed, but nothing was there.
Hesitantly, you made your way down the steps. Your fingers brushed the doorknob, but before you opened it, you spoke through the door.
"Who's there?"
"It's me," Maria's voice drifted through the wood, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You unlocked the door and met her eyes. She tried to hold back the wince upon seeing your face, but you still caught it.
"Heard you might need some help," she said, holding up a small plastic bag. You frowned, confused, until she tilted it open for you to look inside. There, you found a variety of makeup bottles and powders in shades that looked pretty close to your skin tone.
You opened the door and let her in. You could tell you were able to take the stairs a little quicker than the morning, and you hoped that meant you were healing because you really couldn't afford to miss more time at work.
"Cute place," she said, glancing around before following you into your living room.
"Thanks," you murmured, turning the volume back on the TV as she settled into the couch next to you.
"I hope you don't mind," she said, motioning towards the bag. "Joel called and told Tommy what happened... I'm so sorry, I wish you would've called us, we could've helped you."
"Thanks," you said with a shrug. "I guess I'm just used to dealing with it on my own."
"Well if you're ever scared of staying alone, we have a spare bedroom, so please don't hesitate to ask."
You gave her a small smile, hoping she could tell how grateful you were. With the exception of one cousin back home, nobody had tried to stand up for you before. Not even your own parents. The whole concept was so foreign to you, you weren't sure how to respond.
Maria seemed to sense this and she changed the subject, leaning forward to sift through the contents of the drugstore bag, pulling out item after item and holding it up against your arm to decide which shade would work best. She spent the next hour helping you cover your cuts and bruises, and by the time you were done, you didn't look half bad.
"How are you feeling?" she asked as she packed up her things and shoved her sneakers back on.
"A little less sore," you admitted. "I should be able to work tomorrow."
"Why don't you take one more day? Joel said you're going down to the station tomorrow, it might take more out of you than you expect."
You thought it over for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. Money was a concern, but you could wait one more day, and maybe you could pick up an extra shift over the weekend.
You thanked her as she headed down the steps and she reminded you again to call her and Tommy if you ever needed anything, and you promised you would.
When you were finally on your own again, you sat in silence, thinking about these people who barely knew you, who you essentially lied to, banding together to help you out. It was unlike anything you were used to, and you were beginning to think you may have finally found your home.
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The next morning, you paced around your living room, anxiously nibbling at your nails as you waited for Joel to ring the bell. He had insisted on picking you up. He said he could swing by after he dropped Sarah off at school, that it wouldn't be a problem and he passed by your apartment anyway. You didn't understand why he was so insistent: the walk was less than ten minutes, but you didn't feel like arguing.
You were checking your makeup job in the mirror for the fifth time when the bell rang. With a deep sigh, you pulled on your sneakers, slung your purse over your shoulder and headed down the steps. When you opened the door, he was standing with his back to you under a brown blazer and his arms crossed, trying to appear casual for anybody who might be walking by, but when he heard you step through the door he swiveled around quickly.
"Good morning," you said to him with a small smile after you were sure the door was locked tight.
"Mornin'. You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," you said as he led you to his truck parked a little ways down the street.
"You really didn't have to do this, you know," you said again, glancing around to see if anyone was watching.
"I know," was all he said before opening the passenger door for you and giving you a hand to step up into the cab.
The quick ride to the station was quiet, only the hum from his radio filling the air as your fingers fidgeted in your lap. When he parked the truck and you made a move to open the door, he held a hand out.
"Wait a minute, I gotta talk to you before we go in there."
You dropped your hand to your lap and looked at him expectantly.
"I can't take your statement today, I'm gonna have another officer do it," he said, his words rushed like he knew you wouldn't take the news well. And you didn't.
"What?!" you cried out softly, anxiety already creeping up and squeezing your chest.
"I'm sorry, I can't," he said, taking a deep breath and glancing out the windshield before looking back at you. "There's a conflict of interest. Patrick assaulted me, and if I go and take your statement, it won't look good to a judge."
"Oh my god," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.
"It'll be okay. I'll be right there the whole time. Right on the other side of the glass, okay? I promise, I won't leave."
He watched you for a minute, waiting for you to say something, and when you didn't he began to question himself.
"Unless you don't want me to hear, I don't have to-"
"No, I'd prefer you be there," you said quickly.
He nodded and took a deep breath in.
"I asked a female officer to do it. Her name's Beth. She's real nice, she's dealt with... situations like this in the past."
"Okay," you said softly, reaching for the handle, but once again he stopped you.
"One more thing. I gotta cut him loose tomorrow."
You squeezed your eyes shut. You knew this would happen, but it didn't stop you from feeling the overwhelming sense of dread that crept up your spine.
"It'll be fine. I'll file the restraining order today. If he comes within fifty feet of you, he's goin' right back to jail, okay?" he said, his hand coming up to rest assuringly on your knee.
"Okay," you whispered, finally opening your eyes to look at him.
"You can do this. I know you can."
You had to hold back the tears that sprung up when his words hit your ears. Nobody has ever believed in you, listened to you, took care of you the way he did, and he hardly even knew you. People who have been in your life for years, your own family didn't encourage you the way Joel did. On one hand, it was depressing to realize it took this long for someone to give a shit, but on the other hand, you were so, so relieved someone finally did.
As Joel led you into the station, he kept his head held high, ignoring the glances shot your way and you did your best to do the same. You followed him towards the back, and you hesitated a brief moment before entering the interrogation room, pushing all the bad memories to the back of your mind and focusing on the present.
You needed to put an end to this, once and for all.
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You were doing okay. It was half an hour into giving your statement to Beth, and Joel was right. She seemed very kind and patient, and you relaxed after speaking with her for just a few minutes. Or maybe it was because you knew Joel was just a few feet away, watching from the other side of the glass, just like he promised. Whatever it was, you were doing better than you expected.
You had gotten through the bullet points of your history with Patrick. You had detailed how you met after you graduated from high school, how he had just gotten back from basic training with the Marines and was applying to join the Philadelphia police department. You explained how at first, things were great. He was loving and kind, for the most part, but you had been inexperienced and didn't recognize the red flags when you saw them. Like when he got overly possessive at house parties, and especially so when he started drinking. At first, you had thought it was sweet, but then he started getting a little rough. You explained at the time, he would apologize the next day and promise not to do it again, but a few weeks later, he would inevitably go back on his word. The cycle repeated itself over and over for a year, until he proposed one night in front of your entire family, and you had felt pressured to say yes. You had hoped it was just nerves, that eventually you would be excited about marrying him, but it never came. He had rushed you into planning the ceremony and you were only engaged for a few short months. And again, you fooled yourself into thinking everything was just happening so fast, that it was so stressful planning a wedding and that one day, you would be happy.
You couldn't remember the argument that caused him to first hit you. To really hit you, enough to leave a nasty bruise, but you remembered the shock, and you remembered the pain and the fear. And once again, he had apologized the following day, and you forgave him. Because you were weak and scared and confused.
"Did anybody in your life notice?" Beth asked, her eyes filled with what appeared to be genuine concern.
"I hid it at first, but eventually, yes, people noticed," you admitted, fidgeting with the edge of your shirt.
"Did they offer to help you?"
"My cousin," you said, looking down at your hands. "She helped me... she helped me find a clinic so I wouldn't get pregnant."
"Did Patrick know you were on birth control?" Beth asked gently while scratching away with her pen on paper.
"No, I didn't think he would like that."
"Why not?"
"He's made comments to me in the past about wanting a big family, and I was afraid to tell him no. I was afraid he would hurt our children, too," you said, still staring down at your hands.
"Has he raped you?" Beth asked bluntly, and you visibly balked.
"Oh, um," you faltered, the word for whatever reason sending shockwaves through you. You knew the answer, but you just hated admitting it.
"Yes," you finally said, your voice cracking, so you cleared your throat and took a sip of water.
"I'm sorry," Beth said quietly, catching your gaze and giving you a sympathetic look. "I won't ask too much today, but you need to know if this goes to trial, a judge will ask for a lot more detail. You can get a lawyer and they will help walk you through it when the time comes." She reached out across the table to place her hand on top of yours, her thumb rubbing over your knuckles. You nodded, wordlessly telling her to keep going.
"When did it start?"
"Right after we got married, I think."
"How often?" she asked, pulling her hand back so she could focus on writing.
"A few times a week, I guess? I mean, I don't know what counts. A lot of the times I wouldn't be in the mood and he would pressure me, other times were more... deliberate." You swallowed and glanced quickly at the mirror behind Beth, suddenly regretting asking Joel to listen.
"Did you tell your parents?" Beth asked, glancing up at you.
"I told my mom, yes."
"And what did she say?"
"She told me it was a wife's duty to... be available to her husband. She didn't think it was rape." You spit the last word out like it was poison on your tongue. Beth winced but tried to hide it by looking down at her notes.
"And when would he hit you?"
"It varied. Most of the time it was when he was drunk or high. He promised me all the time he would get help, but he never stuck with it."
"Did you ever have to go to the hospital?"
"Yes. A few times. He's broken my arm twice, fractured my hip, and I've had a few concussions. On one occasion, he strangled me until I lost consciousness. I had to be admitted for a bruised trachea." You absentmindedly rubbed your arm and neck as you spoke, your fingers gliding over the old wounds.
"And you've gone to the police before?" she asked.
"Yes, a couple times, but -" you could feel your resolve breaking, and you bit your lower lip to keep it from trembling. "But he always did something to make it go away, and then he would get really mad. One time when I went to file a complaint, he had a cop friend of his lock me in a room just like this one for a whole day. To teach me a lesson." You twirled your finger around the sparse room, tears glistening in your eyes. "They didn't let me out, I couldn't use the bathroom, I didn't have anything to eat or drink. I was all alone."
You stopped talking and tucked your chin against your chest, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. You wiped a shaky palm against your cheek, drying the tears that fell before you looked back up.
"There were times he would be gone for two or three days at a time and come back, all strung out and crazy... those were the times, the times I went to the police, that I ended up in the hospital. So I stopped asking cops for help."
She nodded as she wrote, giving you a minute to collect yourself before her next question. You glanced up at the mirror again and wondered what Joel was thinking. Did he leave? Or was he still there? You almost hoped he had left. You were feeling too vulnerable as it was, but the thought of him looking at you with pity after this was over made your stomach turn.
"I've done this before," you said suddenly, pulling her attention off the page. "And it always ends up the same. Please tell me this will be different."
"It will be different," she said immediately, her jaw set. She put her pen down on her pad and laced her fingers together. "I'm so sorry the justice system as failed you so tremendously, but we will do everything we can for you now that you're here."
You nodded and wiped more of your tears away before she handed you a box of tissues from a small cabinet in the corner of the room. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you met her gaze once again.
"What else?"
"I think that's enough for today," she said, flipping the pages closed on her legal pad. "We got your doctor's report this morning, and combined with this statement we will start the process of formally pressing charges. After that, if he pleads not guilty, it will go before a judge. But let's take it one step at a time, okay?"
"Okay," you said quietly, gathering your purse and following her out of the room. Your eyes immediately drifted around the hallway and then the bullpen, searching for Joel, but he was nowhere to be found. You frowned as Beth led you towards the front lobby, prepared to walk home, when you heard his voice call your name just as you were opening the door.
"I'll take you home," he said. His face looked hardened and his eyes looked distant.
"You don't have to," you began, but he just shook his head and gingerly cupped your elbow, directing you out the door and into the parking lot.
The ride back was silent. He didn't even have the radio on. You glanced out your window nervously, trying not to read too much into it, but when he dropped you off with barely a comforting word or any acknowledgement of what you confessed, you were convinced your greatest fear had come true. Now that he knew it all, now that he finally heard the truth, he couldn't look at you the same.
You were glad Maria had the foresight to tell you to stay home that day. You were mentally exhausted. Rehashing everything and then Joel's reaction put you in an awful mood. By 4pm, after lounging around watching mindless television and checking your phone constantly for any sign of life from Joel, you decided to just make yourself an early dinner, take a shower and then go to bed early.
As you were stepping out of the shower, the water finally turned off and all of the day's makeup covering your wounds down the drain, you heard your doorbell ringing incessantly. Repeatedly. Urgently.
A jolt of dread shot down your spine, but you remembered Joel said Patrick wouldn't be let out until tomorrow. But what if he got out early? What if he made a phone call and Joel was forced to release him?
Wrapped in a robe, your hair dripping down and soaking the thin material, you jogged to the living room and checked your phone. Surely, if Patrick was released, Joel would have warned you, but you didn't have any missed calls or texts. Then the pounding on the door started, making you jump out of your skin.
Slowly, you crept down the stairs, your hand gripping the doorknob tightly, your fingers hovering over the lock.
"Who is it?"
"It's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side, and your eyes widened in shock. You glanced down at your robe, little streaks and drops of wetness trailing down the shiny material.
"Uh, can you -"
"Please open up, people are startin' to look at me like I'm crazy."
With a sigh, you unlocked the door and stepped back, clutching your robe tightly against your chest. Joel squeezed inside and shut the door quickly behind him before turning around, his eyes raking quickly up and down your body before looking you in the eye.
"You were in the shower."
"Yeah," you said, glancing around anxiously before looking up the stairs. "Did you want to come up or something?" He just nodded slowly, his eyes flitting down once again as you led him up the steps.
"I got worried, I was ringin' the bell but I guess you couldn't hear it," he explained, taking off his shoes and shrugging off his blazer.
"What were you worried about? He's still in jail, right?" you asked, handing him some water before sitting down on the couch.
"Yeah, I just... I shouldn'tve left you alone earlier. I shoulda stayed." He stood there, a glass of water in his hand, the other rubbing over his mouth nervously.
You stared at one another for a moment, both trying to figure the other one out. He was breathing faster than normal, his chest rising and falling rapidly under his white button down shirt.
"Why are you here, Joel?" you finally asked, your heart starting to beat faster. "Because if it's out of pity, I don't want it."
"It's not -" he cut himself off and shifted his weight before setting the water down. "It's not pity." He took two steps and sunk down into your couch, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor, trying to figure out what to say.
"It's not fair," he finally said quietly. So quietly, you almost didn't hear him. "Everything that's happened. It's not fuckin' fair."
You scrunched your nose, confused, as you looked at him still staring down at the floor. You were about to open your mouth and ask him what he meant when he spoke again.
"I never shoulda let you leave with him that day. Somethin' felt off, I felt it in my gut-" he sat back to press his hand against his stomach for emphasis. "But I let you go. And he -"
He couldn't finish his sentence, his throat closing up as he fought to blink the tears away.
"It's not your fault, Joel," you told him, resting a hand on his broad shoulder but he stood up quickly to pace around the room.
"I'll never let it happen again," he muttered. "Never gonna let him near you again. I'll fuckin' kill him if I have to, he's never comin' here again." His voice was rising as he spoke, his breath coming in short stutters as he rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers, eyes wide and crazed as the panic seized him.
So it wasn't pity. It was guilt that brought him to you.
"Joel, calm down," you said, standing up to reach out to him, but he kept pacing.
"Oh fuck, I'm never gonna forgive myself," he whispered, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"You didn't do this to me, he did," you assured him, trying to get him to stop moving. "You're helping me, Joel. You're the only one who ever really tried to help me. There's nothing to forgive."
He finally paused and glanced at you, his breath a little shallow as the panic began to subside.
"I'm gonna get you outta this, I promise," he said, his voice sounding more steady.
"I know," you replied, nodding your head.
He took a deep breath in through his nose and tore his eyes away from you to glance at his watch.
"I better go," he said regrettably, looking back up at you again.
"Okay," you said, following him to the door and leaning against the wall as he put his shoes back on.
"D'you need anythin'? Did you eat? I can -"
"I ate, I'm fine," you told him with a small smile. "Thank you, though."
"Alright," he said after a moment, then forced himself to open the door. Before he stepped through, he looked back at you over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'm working dinner tomorrow," you told him, suddenly feeling crestfallen you wouldn't see him for lunch.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he repeated, more firm this time. You slowly nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping he couldn't see through your robe.
You listened sadly as his heavy footsteps descended the stairs and the door shut softly behind him. You knew him well enough at this point that he would have turned the lock on the knob before he left but you still wanted to peek down the steps to check. Your eyes widened when, to your surprise, he was still standing there at the bottom of your stairs, his back leaning up against the door. His eyes flicked up to meet yours when he noticed movement, and you saw Adam’s apple bob in his throat before he spoke.
"I can't leave."
You looked at one another for a long moment, your heart slamming in your chest, knowing what this meant. You were sick and tired of always trying to do the right thing. Where did it get you? How could you even fool yourself into thinking you had any obligation to Patrick anymore? Joel knew everything now. He knew what he was doing, so you said the words that were on the tip of your tongue. The words that you knew would open the door for something both of you wanted so desperately, you could taste it.
"Then stay."
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pray4byron · 3 months
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I need drama. what if their s/o is an angel who is in hell "illegally". they decided to help Charlie after her visiting Heavens. they have wings and a halo, and can easily move between heaven and hell. One evening they hurriedly leave the hotel, saying that it was "a very important meeting up there. I need to come so they don't suspect anything" and that they would be back in a couple of hours. and fled away. they have been gone for few days. Arriving at the hotel at night, they accidentally run into a character, and let's just say, their s/o is not in the best condition. Everything is beaten and covered in blood, but the worst thing is that golden blood is flowing from their backs and their wings are missing. holding the injuries, where the blood comes from, barely standing on feet, they whisper with a smile "They found out everything. Very soon they will start an attack. I'm so sorry."
For Alastor, Husk and platonic!Charlie
WTFF THAT IS ACTUALLY SO COOL !!
but yes, I will write that for you, rn ;)
Although, due to the fact that this is a bit lengthy, I’m only gonna do Husk and platonic!Charlie (assuming you want them separate) So I hope that’s okay!! But I could always do an Alastor version in the future :)
(pssst… there will be a part 2… you didn’t hear it from me…)
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“Bad Little Angel” Pt. 1
Husk x Seraphim!Angel!Reader
Warnings: Swear words, S1E6 spoilers, alcohol mentions, use of (Y/N)
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“I can’t believe Lucifer’s little cunt thinks, not only, that she can bring sinners up here, but also bitch to my manager? Like just say you’re a slutty, lesbian Karen and move the fuck on.” Adam whined as he walked with Lute out of the courtroom, “I couldn’t agree more, sir.” Lute said with a nod, taking off her mask and shaking her hair slightly.
This wasn’t right, and you knew that. None of it. But you knew, you had to do something.
A true Angel wouldn’t continue to let human souls die off, whether they be Hellbound or not.
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“Sooo, how’d it go?” Lucifer asked enthusiastically as Charlie walked through the door, only for her to walk right past him, his face slightly falling as she did so, she fell face forward into one of the couches before mumbling some incoherent words into the pillow.
“Eh, wha?” Angel asked, as he turned to look at her from the bar, “Fine.” she mumbled, lifting her head up, simply to be audible, before slamming it back into the pillow. “Wow.” Angel remarked, before shutting up after Vaggie gave him the eyes.
Before more words could be exchanged there was a knock at the door, Charlie sluggishly walked to swing it open, and there you stood, one of the three Seraphim’s that were at the meeting, although it was hard to notice due to the white cloak that hung over your body and face.
“— Can I come in before we begin this? I just don’t want anyone to see me.” You said sheepishly, as Charlie stepped aside to let you in without uttering a word, slightly stunned by your presence.
You walked in, and neatly put your cloak on a nearby coatrack, your wings and hall now on display, and now it felt like everyone in the hotel had eyes on you…
Most of which you had either remembered from the meeting or the live video of ‘The Porn Demon’ — or as Lute said ‘Some crackwhore’
“Hello!” You said with a bashful wave. “I’m-”
“Smiles? What are you doing here?”
Smiles? Only people in Heaven called you that. You turn to see Vagi looking, almost confusion? Shock? Perhaps undecided for now.
“Ah yes, hi, Vagi-”
“It’s pronounced ‘Vaggie’”
“Oh. My apologies!”
Vaggie. Noted.
“As I was saying, I’m one of the Seraphims, Ms. Morningstar was in Heaven earlier this afternoon, and I must say, I’m invested in this hotel of yours.”
Charlie’s face lit up instantly, but you could feel the Porn Demon (for a lack of his name) and Vaggie eyeing you suspiciously.
“I… I know we’re different, but I really want to help, this whole hotel is about putting others together despite their differences, so, y’know.. well, I didn’t really think through what I was going to say before I came here.” You said, chuckling under your breath as you looked down bashfully and played with the tip of your shoe.
“Fine.” Vaggie said, before coming up to you, “But know everything is confidential, you don’t get to spill all our shit because you feel like it, I don’t care who’s in charge who’s telling you to do this, if you don’t follow our rules, you don’t get to be here.” Vaggie finished, looking to a deer-like demon, who has a big grin on his face as he comes up to you, and offers to shake his hand.
You hesitate, but shake it, a green light swirls around the room and flickers away the moment your and the deer’s hands lose contact.
You turn to Vaggie, your face serious about the promise just made, “You have yourself a deal.”
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“So this is Angel! You saw him from the video! That is Alastor, he’s the one you made the deal with! Ooh oh! And that’s Pentious and Niffty — Niffty’s the one cleaning, by the way!” Charlie said pointing to a small cyclops girl sweeping and a snake man who followed behind her — he seemed to be a.. you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but you settled with magician.
“That’s Husk, the bartender!” Charlie said with a point, and the cat man gave a small nod — now that was a magician, but if he was a magician, what the hell was the snake supposed to be? Eh, it doesn’t matter.
“And this is… Oh, well you already know Vaggie! From.. er…” Charlie trailed off, it was obvious she was referring to what Adam had announced in the courtroom.
“So is, ‘Smiles’ like your real name? ‘Cus I’ve never met a damn person in my whole afterlife who’d wanna be named that…well, maybe except for him.” Angel asked from the bar, gesturing to Alastor for his last reference.
“No no.” You said with a chuckle, approaching Angel slightly to talk to him more efficiently. “Smiles is a nickname that Vaggie knows me as from… past social circles..” You explained, trailing off, “But anywho, you can call me smiles, or (Y/N), whatever you want!”
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“You want a drink?” Husk asked, as he finished up cleaning Angel’s cup, as he just went to bed for the night, “No, I don’t drink.” you explained as Husker chuckled. “I just… never really got to know you.” You added.
“There’s only so much to know.” He said, “And didn’t Charlie say something about a ‘live video’ from that meeting? See, you know enough about me, new kid.”
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It had been about a week since you made it to the hotel, you had been in Heaven for about half of that time though, but everyone was nice so far!
Charlie was amazingly kind and understanding during shared planning periods, you were starting to build a friendship with Vaggie again, Angel was turning into your bestfriend, you loved the chaotic energy with Pentious and Niffty, Alastor was creepy…but he was okay, and Husk was so soothing and understanding — you have to admit, that maybe something a little special was going on.
It was late, you had just been out on a walk around the block with Husk and Angel, and you were in your peejays, ready to clock out, simply scrolling on your phone, you see a text pop up, and you click to view it.
Lute : There’s a meeting on Sunday. Don’t miss it.
A meeting? For what? We just had a meeting..
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“Is everything okay?” Charlie asked as you rushed to get your cloak and clip it below your chin. Angel, Vaggie, and Alastor also watched you scramble around the lobby of the hotel.
“Look, Heaven really needs me, and I need to leave now if I wanna make it there when I need to, I’ll be back, I promise.” You explained quickly and sternly, Charlie and Angel exchanged concerned looks, Vaggie looked a bit suspicious and you couldn’t help but feel awful, and Alastor had his signature grin.
“You’ll be back, right?” Charlie asks with a hopeful smile.
You hesitate to answer, but give a smile back to her that has the same hope within your eyes, “Of course.”
And then, you flew off.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months
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Practice On Me — Part Thirteen — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Backstreet’s back, ALRIGHT! Or rather, the Bat Boys™️ sort their issues out. Tathaln’s ball is officially announced. Azriel gives Kaeda a piece of his mind. Fin has no business being the sexy dad he is. Roza’s worried about reader.
Word count: 6.3k.
Warnings: None for this part.
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All is silent, save for the rhythmic tick-tick-ticking of the clock. Cassian has always hated that clock. Finds it fucking annoying.
But it fills the vacant hole that exists in the absence of conversation. That hole is open and gaping between Cassian and Azriel. It’s not a table that sits between them — it’s a dangerous, yawning chasm.
Az stares at Cass, and Cass feels uncomfortable. He’s seen that cold gaze be levelled on people hundreds of times, thousands. To be on the receiving end feels a little like staring death in the face. He actually kind of wishes that Kaeda hadn’t been sent off to the dorms to sleep off her drunken state, because at least then he wouldn’t be the only one here, being subjected to…this.
So, he stands up, so abruptly that his chair almost topples over, and asks, “Want me to make you some tea?” The question feels stupid the second it leaves his lips.
Azriel’s eyes track him, drink in every uneasy shift and twitch. It’s not that Cass is afraid of Az — though anybody with half a brain cell would be — just that he’s not good in these situations. Situations where he has to be serious and…and listen.
“Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s cold voice stops him before he can move. “When, in our years of friendship, have you ever once made me tea?”
Cass peers over a broad shoulder and shrugs half-heartedly. “First time for everything…”
“Sit.”
The word brooks no room for argument. Cassian does, indeed, sit.
It’s then that Azriel heaves a deep sigh, his entire body taut as a bowstring, and says, “I’m sorry.”
Cass blinks. “What?”
“I’m sorry—for what I did in the mead hall. I…had no right.”
“…But Y/N and I…”
“It’s not for me to dictate whether the two of you should or shouldn’t lie together. My…jealousy…is my problem, and mine alone.”
This is hard, Cassian realises — for Az to say this. For him to face it. And Cass can relate to that. Not everyone can be as silver-tongued as Rhysand. The Mother knows, Cass himself isn’t.
But he also isn’t an idiot. Some people may believe him to be, and that’s their mistake, because being proved wrong is usually the last thing they remember before waking up to a healer standing over them. He’s aware enough of his surroundings to know that something was brewing between Azriel and Y/N for years before Cass took her to bed…or kitchen counter, or…whatever.
“I need to be better,” Cassian offers, “at thinking before I act. Thinking about who I might hurt with my decisions. I’m working on it.”
Az studies his friend, and he feels no anger. If anything, it’s guilt that claws at the shadowsinger. He gave poor Cass a pretty good hiding over something that was, essentially, none of his business. And it could have all been different if Az simply wasn’t a coward, afraid of his feelings.
Something he needs to work on.
And perhaps he’s doing that as, rather than burying the topic, he asks, “What…what actually happened? How did you end up sleeping together? I mean…do you have feelings—”
“No.” Cassian cuts him off, blinking. “Gods, no. I love Y/N, you know that. But not romantically. I just…I felt so damn useless that night, Az. If you’d seen the way Y/N was…the self-loathing. I didn’t know how to help.”
Immediately, Azriel’s brow pinches. “Self-loathing?”
“Because of what her father did to her. When we were flying to Fenlaros, and she was the only one being carried in…”
Azriel slumps back in his chair, feeling like a godsdamned idiot.
He blinks forward and wonders what the fuck the point is in being born a shadowsinger when he obviously can’t read situations very well. Within seconds, it’s clicking into place.
“And then you started that fight with that Fenlarion male,” Cass continued. “and Kaeda just declared that it was her you were fighting over…and everyone has a limit, you know? I think that night was just all too much for Y/N. And she was so upset, so downtrodden…talking about how she hated herself. And I’m not good with words like Rhys is, and I’m not as observant as you are, but I am good at physical touch. Physical comfort. And it seemed like the only thing I could offer in that moment to take that bleakness away from her. But I should have thought about how you would feel—”
“I’m glad you were there for her.” Azriel blurts, realising, with every word, how much he means them. “I wasn’t. I failed her that night.”
“I really didn’t know that the two of you had been exploring things. If I did, I wouldn’t have done it. I mean…that fight you started wasn’t over Kaeda at all, was it?”
Az’s eyes shutter. And it goes against every natural instinct of his to strip himself bare and just…be honest. Every steel wall he’s ever built up is screeching in its effort to stand strong and not be caved in. And those walls were necessary in a life of darkness and hate…but that life is long gone.
What good do those walls do him in an environment where he has love, has people who genuinely care for him? As much as he wants to run and hide from his feelings as he always has…he thinks that the key to happiness may be on the other side of those walls. That a new bravery lays in letting some light filter through the cracks and warm a guarded heart.
His voice is quiet, laced with a self-preserving fear, as he admits, “No. It was not.”
Before Cassian can offer an encouraging response, the front door is swinging open, and Rhysand is kicking snow from his boots and trudging in. Azriel tenses like a threatened animal — but there is no threat here. Only safety, only love. He forces his shoulders to relax.
The violet-eyed male takes in the sight before him. Goes still as he looks between his two friends. “Please tell me this is a positive conversation.”
Cassian inclines his head. “Work in progress. Why don’t you make some tea?”
“Fuck you, make your own tea—”
“Make me some tea—”
“Kiss my ass, dickhole—”
“I’m in love with Y/N.” Azriel blurts.
It promptly shuts the other two males up.
They turn away from their bickering to look at the shadowsinger. He looks…shocked, by his own confession.
“I’m in love with her,” he breathes.
Cass and Rhys share a glance, and then Rhys is slowly approaching the table, carefully taking a seat like he doesn’t want to startle Azriel out of the moment.
“We know, Az.” Rhys tells him gently. “I mean…I think we always suspected…”
“I started that fight in Fenlaros because I was jealous of that damn male having his hands all over her. Saying the things he was saying. It was nothing to do with Kaeda.”
“You should really tell her — Y/N, I mean. Tell her how you feel.”
Azriel’s eyes trace a mark in the table as he admits, “Kind of already have. When she came to speak to me earlier today.”
Another glance is shared between Cassian and Rhys. And both are equally surprised — figure they would have heard something about it. Unless…unless it hadn’t gone down well.
And now that Rhys thinks about it, Y/N had been tense whilst he’d flown her back to Velaris. Taut in his arms and barely uttering a few words. Perhaps this was why.
“Did she…not take it well?” Rhys hedges. He wants to be delicate, not go blasting in at full-force. So rarely do they get to see such a vulnerable side to Az.
Azriel shakes his head once. “It’s not that, it’s…” He clears his throat. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“How?” Cass pushes, and Rhys shoots him a warning glance.
But Azriel doesn’t balk from it, doesn’t slink back in his seat. Instead, he lifts his head, and he levels his friends with a desperate look.
“There’s more that I haven’t told you.” He says.
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A short while later, Az thinks that maybe talking through his feelings is a good thing. Just saying the words has a little bit of weight easing from his chest, his shoulders.
But Cass and Rhys aren’t saying anything at all. Cass and Rhys are staring at him like he has two damn heads.
And then Cassian sits up, barking, “Tathaln Baralas wants what?”
“Exactly what I told you.” Azriel shakes his head. “He wants me to move to Fenlaros and work alongside him. Has some sort of backing from the High Lord, though I’m not sure how much. In a nutshell, Kaeda’s interest in me has always been driven by her father.”
“I knew that little wasp was up to something. You know she tried to kiss me tonight?”
Az shrugs. Really could not give a fuck. “I figured something had happened from the look on your face.”
“I never liked her. Nor her father—”
“Her father,” Rhys cuts in, “walks a very fine line in presuming to exceed in his role as a Camp Lord. His ego and title are going to his head a little, it would seem, if he believes he has the authority to scheme such ideas.”
“It’s a terrible idea.” Cass says. Neither of the other two noticed him get up, but he’s returning to his seat, speaking around a mouthful of food. “All Illyrians in one big camp? They’ll kill each other.”
Rhys is inclined to agree. But he turns a neutral — maybe gentle — expression on Az and asks him, “Do you want to go to Fenlaros?”
It would kill him if Az said yes. Would kill Cass, too. These recent days of being torn apart by tension has been bad enough. Being in different camps and not seeing each other is an almost unbearable thought.
But they would find a way to live with it, if Az decided he wanted to go. They’d find a way to be okay with it.
Such thick silence fills the room that the thudding of all three of their hearts is audible.
But then Azriel replies quietly, “No.”
Neither Rhys nor Cassian bother to hide their relief.
“I told Kaeda I would think about it.” Azriel goes on. “And I told Y/N that I’d promised Kaeda that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really intended to think about it — or needed to. I think…I think I was just using it to bide my time. To create space for myself and…avoid everything else.”
“By everything else,” Cassian chomps into a loaf of bread, “do you mean facing your feelings for Y/N?”
Azriel can’t deny it. He nods. “It’s not an easy thing to face…to be vulnerable. Hiding behind this Fenlaros situation has just been easier. Cowardly, yes, but…easier.”
“You can’t keep pushing her away, though, Az.” Rhys says. “You can’t let her think that you might be leaving if you have no intention of doing so.”
The shadowsinger’s eyes flutter shut, thick, dark lashes grazing his cheekbones. “Do you think I’ve fucked it beyond repair?”
“No.” Cassian offers. “But you will, if you don’t start handling this the right way. Tell Kaeda and Tathaln to fuck off. Tell Y/N you’re in love with her and want to see her naked—”
“Watch it.” Azriel warns quietly, but Cass continues, unperturbed.
“Just start letting more people in. And I’ll stop letting so many people in, because it gets me into trouble. I think…I think we all need to grow up a little. Do better.”
Rhysand’s brow pinches. “What do you mean, we all do? I’ve done nothing other than put my own pleasure aside to advise you idiots. What could I possibly need to do better?”
Cassian shrugs. “That haircut, for one. It’s annoying.”
“And when was the last time your hair saw a comb, Cassian?”
“When was the last time you were generous and made tea for your good, long-suffering friend?”
“So this is about the tea.”
“Of course it’s about the tea, jackass. Zakai clearly isn’t with you for your observational skills…”
Azriel sits back, allowing their bickering to become background noise. There’s a warmth to the sight, the sound, that makes him realise he never again wants a repeat of this situation — of being apart from his friends for days, tension thick between them.
He loves Rhys and Cassian. Loves them dearly.
Another reason why he could never, ever turn his back on this place.
And he finds himself actually being…grateful…that Cass was there for Y/N that night. That she didn’t have to suffer her self-loathing alone.
There’s still a lot to get through, of course. Daunting emotions and truths to face head-on. But as he watches the two loveable idiots in front of him take verbal swipes at each other, it’s the first time in a while that he wonders if things might actually be okay.
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The news is announced the next day, when Lord Devlon gathers a rather colourful bunch of his soldiers in the mead hall and stands at the front, silencing them all with a single shout. Rhys, Cassian and Azriel stand against the far back wall, their arms folded over their chests.
Gods, they hope it’s not another training exercise. Not so soon. Az has things he wants to resolve before he saunters off and possibly gets himself killed.
But Devlon reads the roll of parchment in his hands, a frown contorting his features. He looks up, his eyes very deliberately finding Rhysand as he announces to the room, “A message from the High Lord.”
And every other gaze is then swivelling to turn on Rhys, too. There’s something accusatory about it, like they’re assuming he’s privy to whatever it is their asses have been dragged out of bed to hear.
He isn’t. He wants to be in bed, too.
“Looks like you pricks better get your dancing shoes ready.” Devlon raises his eyebrows. “The High Lord is calling for a ball. Legions from all camps invited.”
This — this is exciting news for the brutish males who could fill the mead hall with their egos alone. Not because they have a particular affinity for dancing, but because amongst themselves, they’re already murmuring about which particular camps they dislike for some reason or other, and what they plan to do about it. So many bloodthirsty streaks are painted in those males’ eyes, stamping out the tiredness that lay there only moments before.
Nothing pricks an Illyrian male’s ears up quite like the prospect of a fight.
“The legions from each camp have been carefully selected, and you lucky fuckers will be representing Windhaven.” The Camp Lord continues, disdain dripping from his voice. He wants his men out there training in the cold, not prancing around a dance floor. “Plus-ones are allowed, also, so it might be time to splash out on a pretty gown for whoever is warming your bed these days. The ball is to be held on Starfall, at a neutral venue of the High Lord’s choosing, and I expect you all to make Windhaven — and me — look good. Any questions?”
“Do we actually have to dance?” One male asks, while another one pipes up with, “Will those pricks from Camp Steelshore be there?”
Rhys shuts out the litany of battling voices as he turns a concerned look on Az and Cass. Their expressions mirror his own. Something about this feels…off.
So while he looks like he’s merely lounging against the wall, hands in his pockets, he sends his inner claws spearing straight for Devlon’s mind. He doesn’t give away what he’s doing, not even slightly, as he roots around in the Camp Lord’s thoughts and grabs for his glimpse of the letter. Rhys scans it, drops the thought, and he’s out of Devlon’s mind and straightening himself up before the male can so much as flinch.
“Let’s go.” He tells his friends, and not Devlon nor the males around them seem to care as Azriel and Cassian follow him, the formidable trio traipsing out into the thawing snow, regardless of whether the meeting is over or not.
They’re halfway back to the house, safely out of earshot, when Cassian finally barks, “A ball? What the fuck?”
“At the request of Tathaln Baralas.” Rhys reveals. “That’s what the letter said. He took the idea to my father, and the asshole is humouring him. This has all got to be part of Tathaln’s plan.”
Cassian scowls and spits his disdain at the ground. “Someone needs to drive a poison arrow through that prick’s heart already. I don’t like this one bit.”
“It’s my father’s intentions I’m worried about.” Rhys shakes his head. “Tathaln only has the power that my father gives him. One word from him and this idea could be snuffed out and never mentioned again. And I expected that to be the case. Arrogant as fuck he may be, but my father isn’t stupid. He’ll know what a terrible idea this is, and I would have predicted that he’d laugh in Tathaln’s face for mentioning it. I didn’t think he’d actually entertain it…which means—”
“There’s something in it for him.” Azriel finishes.
Rhysand nods. “Every single move and choice my father makes is, ultimately, for his own gain. He would never agree to anything if he weren’t getting something out of it himself. Whatever Tathaln has proposed to him…my father will be using it for his own gain.”
Cassian opens the door to the cottage and strides in, forgetting — as always — to kick the snow from his boots. “What, though?” He asks. “What could Tathaln have that your father could want?”
Rhys shrugs and waves a hand, magic promptly mopping up the wet, melting trail left in Cassian’s wake. “That, I don’t know.”
“So what do we do?” Az watches him closely, trying to read the thoughts on the male’s face. His shadows reach out to him, too. “Are you going to talk to your father? Make him see how ridiculous this idea is?”
“No,” Rhys shakes his head. “There would be no point. I could lay a whole host of truths out to my father, and he’d go against them on ego alone. He must want something badly enough for him to be throwing money into it. This ball won’t be cheap.”
“And it won’t be a ball, either.” Cassian cocks an eyebrow. Roots through the kitchen cupboards for food. “Blood will be spilled. And you can’t dance on blood. I’ve tried. Too slippy.”
Rhys chooses to ignore that little scrap of information. Mostly because he doesn’t doubt it for a second. “I don’t want us to pre-empt anything.” He says. “If I go straight to my father with concerns about any of this, it could blow up in our faces, instead. For the time being, I think we should just…go along with it. Watch it play out, and see what happens. My father is unpredictable. Even I can’t tell you what goes on in his head.”
“I can speak with Kaeda.” Az clears his throat. “See if she’ll tell me anything.”
“You have fun with that.” Cassian mumbles, biting into something. “I’d sooner chop my balls off and nail them to the front door.”
“Such a way with words. It’s no wonder, really, that females fall at your feet.”
Cass shoots him a wicked grin. And this…this is nice. What they’ve both missed. This is normal.
“I’ll keep an eye and ear out for anything.” Rhys drags them back to the subject at hand. “But my father’s good at not letting anyone know things until he wants them to know them. And he’s clearly serious about this.”
Cassian swallows. Takes another bite. “And until then? Until we know what he’s even serious about?”
Violet eyes sparkle with mischief, and one side of Rhysand’s lips tips up. “Until then, boys,” he says, “you’d better practice your dancing.”
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Azriel really hopes she’s not there, but sure enough, when he enters his room at the dorms, Kaeda is sitting up in his bed.
It gives him a little bit of satisfaction to see her look…less than perfect, for once. Her hair is knotted, and even the vibrancy of the red shade seems a little dulled. Her skin is sallow, her eyes bleary. He wonders if she’s as miserable as she currently looks.
She beholds him with a strangely coy look, like she’s waiting for him to rip into her. But if she really knew the shadowsinger, she’d know that that is not his style. He does not shout. He rarely fights physically. His danger lies in his quiet voice and icy stare.
Kaeda’s tired eyes fall to the blanket pooled around her waist, and she murmurs, “You’re angry with me.” Her throat bobs with a swallow. “I understand. But I appreciate you putting me to sleep in here when I was in a vulnerable state.”
“I would have done it for anyone.” Az presses his back against the wall, folding his arms. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
The female merely bows her head. Doesn’t bother to argue.
“I have a question.” Azriel then says. “I’d like an answer.”
“I know that Cassian has probably told you about last night, and all I can say is I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I was drunk and upset and I—”
“I don’t care about that.” He really doesn’t, and it shows on his face. “I want to know what your father is playing at by organising an Illyrian ball. I don’t believe for a second that the gesture is an innocent one.”
She glances down again, but Azriel doesn’t buy the coy act for one moment.
“Kaeda.” His voice is laced with warning. “Tell me.”
“It’s just…a ball. A ball to have all camps in one place, so he can get a good look at what each one has to offer. It’s nothing sinister.”
“So, a chance for him to scout more supporters for his cause.”
“He’s trying to make a change, Azriel. A good one—”
“He’s interfering with lives. Tearing families apart.”
“Good results require difficult choices.” Her voice hardens.
The shadowsinger bites out a cold, brusque laugh, turning away from her. “Mother above, he has you trained well.”
There’s movement behind him. Kaeda is kicking the sheets away and pushing to her feet. And she’s…seething.
“You would laugh in the face of somebody trying to make a positive change?” She snaps. “What reason have you to be so arrogant? At least my father is trying to make a difference. All you’re doing is clinging to a miserable life in a miserable place where you don’t even have a family or home of your own—”
“Except that I do.” Azriel rounds on her so quickly that his wing knocks a fragrance bottle off a shelf. “I may not have your riches, and that’s fine, because I have a group of people — a family I made — who love me enough to care whether or not I come home at night. Who want nothing less for me than happiness and contentedness, and not just to use me as a pawn in some convoluted plan that will do more harm than good. I have reason to be in Windhaven, whether it’s miserable or not. I have love here. So much of it. And there’s nothing — not a damn thing — that would make me turn my back on it.”
Something in his impassioned speech clearly hits a nerve with Kaeda. She goes still.
And she looks…small, despite being fairly tall. She looks…insignificant.
Her eyes fill with tears. One spills over and rolls down her cheek as she whispers, “Please, Azriel.”
Azriel says nothing. Stares at her.
“Please.” She takes a step closer. “I’m not above begging. I…” Her voice cracks. “I need this. I need you to say yes—”
“Your father,” he interrupts quietly, “is playing a very dangerous game. And he’s using you to do it.”
“You don’t understand. I…if I can’t give him what he wants, I’m finished. I’ll have no home to go to, nobody on my side.”
“You already have nobody on your side. You’re his daughter and he’s dangling your livelihood over your head and ready to snatch it away if he doesn’t get what he wants. You’re already finished.”
“Please.” She says again. Tears are streaming, now, and she tries fruitlessly to wipe them away. “Please, just…if this is about Y/N—”
“Do not,” he grits out, “bring her into this.”
“She’s already in this. I know that you want her and not me…that you always have…and that’s fine. Bring her to Fenlaros with you, if you must. I’m sure my father could be persuaded on that. But just…please—”
“You’re not listening, Kaeda. This isn’t just about my family. It’s about all the other families that would be separated, ripped apart by your father’s scheming. He’s power hungry. This is just the beginning of a whole host of self-serving plans that will bring him glory — do not doubt that for a second. People like him are never satisfied, and he needs to be stopped. Not encouraged.”
“You’re wrong.” Her voice is so weak, Az isn’t convinced she believes her own words. “He just wants a better future for Illyria—”
“No.” Az levels her with a pointed look. “He wants a better future for himself. I will not play a part in that, and neither will my loved ones.”
“Azriel, please—”
“I will attend your father’s ball, just as Lord Devlon has ordered me to do.” He breezes to the door, not caring that this is his room he’s leaving her behind in. He stops, palm poised on the handle. “But as for delivering a male straight into your father’s den? You better start trying that seduction on somebody else. Because there is nothing that would make me follow you into that camp.”
He leaves without a glance back. And while it sits uncomfortably inside him that he made a female cry…he can’t help feeling like he’s finally doing the right thing.
About time, too.
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This — this is the last thing you ever would have expected of coming to Velaris.
The tonic you’d needed was an extended amount of girl time with Roza. And yet here you are…in the High Lord’s arms.
“This is useless.” You murmur, aware of every single place your body brushes against his. One of his hands is a firm weight on the small of your back, the other clasping yours. “I’m not a natural dancer. Fuck, I’ve never even been to a dance.”
Fin’s mouth tips up at the corners. “There’s that filthy mouth.” His hand lets go of yours, opting to move up to the cut of your jaw, where he allows his thumb to rest on your lower lip. “You,” the pad of it swipes slowly over your mouth, “are going to be exquisite.”
You square your shoulders. Cock a challenging eyebrow. “Is that genuine encouragement, High Lord? Or an order?”
A deep chuckle. Slowly — reluctantly —he lets his hand drop. “Both.”
Flirting with him like this, playing the part of the High Lord’s pet, is a necessary evil. You’re just so surprisingly good at it that you can’t discern whether it’s an affront to him, or to Roza. Or both.
But you can’t deny that you’ve been flattered by his undivided attention this past week. And perhaps he’s been flattered by yours, too.
Mother bless Roza for her undying support. The best you can do for her, right now, is to keep her in the loop. She merely tells you to be careful.
But a week — a week of cosying up to Fin, of breaking through his exterior and appealing yourself to him. You humour him with these dance lessons, with the preposterously expensive shopping trips and dinners, the late night fireside conversations. Anything, everything, to get him to tell you what truth lies behind the excited glint in his eyes whenever he speaks of the ball. To tell you what it is he’s planning.
Perhaps you’re not appealing enough. You are no more aware than anyone else. And that’s really fucking frustrating.
At least your hard work has kept you from thinking about Azriel every five minutes.
Your breath still heaving from your dance efforts, you make your way over to the table of refreshments by the huge, arcing windows that overlook the city. The High Lord’s palace, you have to admit, is a place you might miss once you’re back in Windhaven. You’ve never been one for luxury, never had more than a few things to your name — but the views are what makes you feel like the richest person in all of Prythian. These are not the cold, barren views of your camp, but a place of such vibrancy, it sometimes makes you want to cry. It’s like the setting of a storybook, laid out right before you.
From behind, slow, graceful footsteps sweep across the wooden floor. Fin comes to a stop so closely behind you that his body heat encases you.
Fingertips make contact with your skin, the back of your neck. The sleeveless tunic you wore for your practice now feels like nothing more than a paper towel.
“You have such beautiful skin.” Fin says roughly, and you tense. So far, this week, he’s kept a respectful distance away. Hasn’t put you in any awkward positions.
You pivot under his touch, pressing your back up against the table enough that his hand drops. It’s not entirely for show as you smile apologetically and tell him, “Sorry — scars.”
Such genuine, slicing rage fills his face. The intensity of it almost knocks you breathless.
“I will kill him.” He says the words like a lover’s promise. “With my bare hands, I will kill him for taking your wings.”
He had the power to stop the practice before you were even born. He is very old — over nine-hundred-years — and very powerful. What he says, goes.
And yet…he means it. You can see it. And perhaps you have seen so much unkindness, such brutality, that little scraps of ferocity, of passion, in your defence, make you a blinded fool.
But a part of him — however small — actually cares about you. Enough to mark your abuser for death.
But your father’s blood will soak your hands, and yours only.
You smile up at him, wickedly, cunningly, prettily. “No, you won’t.” You reply. “Because I will do it first.”
And the fury in his stare simmers immediately to a different sort of heat. Your words are a flirtation to him — a cut of raw meat dangled above a hungry, waiting animal. They make him feel something.
“Such a murderous little thing.” His soft laugh caresses your skin. He sounds pleased — impressed. “I like that. I like it a lot.”
“I would hope so. I am to be your special guest at the ball, after all.” A small voice in your head wants to coax him; tell me what you’re planning, tell me what to expect.
But, as always, he steers the conversation away, a vague, mysterious smile on his face. “Do you like it here in Velaris, my murderess?”
“I do, very much so.”
“I can’t help pondering how much you would thrive here. You were made for so much more than Windhaven. Illyria, even.”
A soft, coy smile — one that comes from deep within that part of you that wants the praise, the compliments — that needs them. “Many would disagree with you.”
“Show them to me, and I will twist their minds until they see in you what I do.”
“And what is it you see in me?” A disingenuous little liar. A good actress. A traitor.
Fin leans down, and for one startling, heart-stopping, stomach-lurching moment, you think his mouth might meet yours.
But his lips brush over your cheek in a tender, barely-there caress. He presses a kiss to the skin before retracting. Straightening himself out. The way he slides his hands into his pockets with casual arrogance reminds you so much of Rhys that you miss your friend instantaneously.
“I see beauty that is unappreciated, and intelligence that is underestimated.” Fin says. “And I see a female that I wouldn’t mind having at my side.” His eyes trace you from head to toe. “I wouldn’t mind it at all.”
No response sits on your tongue. You think you might be too surprised by the genuine praise. The fact that the High Lord actually feels some level of affection towards you.
Maybe you’re not so bad at these games.
He turns without waiting for your response, and only when he’s at the door does he make eye contact with you over his shoulder.
“Keep practicing the dancing, my murderess.” He says. “We’ll make a fine pair at that ball.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
If Roza weren’t so worried, she might laugh at the three expressions of outrage that meet her when she strolls into the cottage.
Rhysand jumps up immediately and demands, “Did you fly here? You’re supposed to be resting.”
Roza merely rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind her. “Don’t get your undergarments in a bunch, Rhysand. I’m pregnant — not on my death bed. The babe is fine.”
Her son does not look convinced. Neither do Azriel or Cassian. As if they’re, like, experts on pregnancy, or something.
“What are you doing here, mother?” Rhys stalks straight to the fire and stokes it. Then straight over to the kitchen to make a hot drink. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes. Mostly.” Roza pauses. “I hope.”
Azriel sits up at that. “Is Y/N alright?”
“She’s fine.” If playing games with the High Lord of the Night Court can be considered fine. Roza eases herself into a seat, and Cassian is promptly propping cushions behind her back. “I want to talk to you about the ball.”
Cass’s lips turn up into a half-smile. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, Roz. Promise.”
“You’d better be. Because I want all three of you looking out for Y/N at that ball, do you hear me?”
The command is a firm one, and yet the three males don’t straighten up at her matriarchal tone like they usually do. Instead, they share a puzzled glance, frowns pinching their features.
“It’s a ball for Illyrian soldiers and their guests of choice.” Rhys explains, carrying a steaming mug over to her. “None of us are bringing her along. Not to that.”
“You may not be.” Roza slides a protective hand over her bump. “But your father is.”
All three males go so preternaturally still, it’s almost frightening.
Rhys bites out, quietly, “What?”
“Your father is taking Y/N to the ball as his special guest. He’s bought her a gown, taught her to dance — he’s serious about this.”
“He can’t.” The shadowsinger’s face is like rolling thunder. “He cannot take her there. All those males—”
“That’s precisely why I’m not attending. He needs someone in my place, and he’s taking Y/N.”
“He can choose someone else.” Azriel’s clipped tone, his panic, is not at all personal to Roza. Usually, he would never speak to her in such a way, but—
But this is Y/N they’re talking about. Y/N in the High Lord’s hands, at a ball with so many Illyrian males, too many Illyrian males.
“Watch your tone, Azriel.” Rhys warns, but Roza is holding up a hand. Because she gets it — the panic.
“I’ve tried telling him to take somebody, anybody, else.” She says. “He’s insistent — absolutely adamant that he wants Y/N.”
“But why?” Cassian frowns.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if his kindness to her is genuine or not.” She shakes her head, absentmindedly stroking her bump. “All I know is that he’s taking Y/N to that ball, and I’m not going to be there. You know, Rhysand, that there is no changing your father’s mind once it’s set. I need the three of you to look out for her.”
Because Y/N is just as much a daughter to Roza as the little girl growing in her belly. They know that.
Rhys inclines his head, reaching out to place a hand over Roza’s. “We will, mother.” He promises. “Whatever game he’s playing…we’ll look after Y/N.”
Roza’s eyes dart to Azriel, to Cassian. “Do you promise?”
“We promise.” Cassian, unfazed as always, grins. “You just focus on the little one, Roz.”
Azriel’s face is grave, but he nods once. “We won’t let her out of our sight.”
Y/N is in good hands with them, Roza knows. She may even be in good hands with Fin, depending on what his true intentions are. Perhaps being at the High Lord’s side is the safest place she can be. It’s an unknown.
But one thing Azriel does know, as he wishes and wishes for this damn ball to just be over already, is that he’s wracked with guilt.
He can’t help feeling like it’s his fault — that his actions, his behaviour, chased Y/N right into a viper’s den.
That he’ll stop at nothing to get her out of it.
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pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl
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viviennevermillion · 1 year
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When you faint because of the heat
notes: new theme. i am speed. set during tamashina-mina and yasamina silk events. there's also no translation out yet at the point of writing this so I apologize if I accidentally fuck something up, i'm piecing this event story together from twitter threads and japanese-speaking mutuals exposing themselves to my annoying questions. varying lengths again because what is consistency?
contains: character x gn!reader, established relationship
characters included: leona, jamil, malleus, lilia
warnings: spoilers for new event, heatstroke
dark content creators & consumers dni
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Leona may have acted like he wasn't very keen on going home and bringing anyone from Night Raven College along, but he did care a lot about his homeland and he was feeling a little proud that he got to show it to you. He just wished he wasn't the loathed second prince while doing that. The others? It didn't matter to him if they enjoyed their trip. But you were his significant other and he wanted you to have a good time. So if he already had to go back to the Sunset Savannah? He might as well bring you along. He didn't want to admit it but you brightened up every moment at least enough for it to be tolerable for him. And even though he felt like the trip was going to be quite the hassle, he was looking forward to it at least a little bit in the aspect that he'd get to spend some time with you in his homeland. Maybe he'd even show you the palace. The others could wait outside.
You wandered the plaza with Leona and the others, sneaking your hand into his at one point. "Careful, y/n~", Leona teased and looked at you with his signature smirk, "the people of Sunset Savannah still don't know I have a significant other, we don't want anyone from the royal guard to tackle you for your affection now, do we? They might throw you in jail and then you'll never get to see me again." You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend. "If you weren't the prince, I'd dunk you in the fountain." "So violent, huh?", he said with an uncharacteristically dramatic sigh, "drowning in the fountain built to commemorate my beloved nephew would be a fitting end for me, huh?" You poked his side. "I'd be foolish to believe I could get rid of you by drowning you in a fountain", you joked and now Leona took your hand in his for a moment and squeezed it gently, still smirking at you.
"Could you people stop flirting for two seconds?", Vil looked at you both with a disappointed expression. "This is their version of flirting?", Lilia put a finger to his chin in confusion. "It is and I hate it", Vil replied dryly.
All of you noticed that it had become even hotter in the plaza and none of you were really dressed for the occasion. When Jack fainted, Leona was shocked and needed a moment to process what was happening. "Y/n, could you hand me the water you packed? Y/n...?", Leona turned around to see you unconscious in Vil's arms after he had caught you. "Oh for fucks sake", Leona held his head.
He made his way towards you. "Move, prickly queen", he hissed at Vil and picked you up from the ground bridal style. Vil stared at him like "tf did you just call me?"
"This really isn't the time to get jealous, you know?", Vil sighed and Leona carried you to the shade as the others helped bring Jack there. They could see Leona seemed a little distressed over you fainting though. He put you down on a bench and sat next to you, waiting for you to regain consciousness before he helped you drink some water.
"Ah shit, how are we supposed to win if y'all die on me like a starving gazelle with three broken legs?", Leona growled and rubbed the back of his head. Despite his annoyed expression, anyone who knew him well enough could tell he was worried about the two of you.
"Do you think you two can walk with us or should I call the corpse wagon?", Leona asked about your condition, ignoring Vil's sarcastic commentary of how charming he was yet again.
At the hotel he has you sitting sideways on his lap and resting against his chest. His tail is wrapped around your waist and he holds your cheek with one hand before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He looks up at Vil and Lilia smirking at him in a teasing way and Kalim letting out an "aw" sound.
"Fuck you starin' at?", Leona commented dryly. "I'm sorry", Kalim apologized and looked to the ground.
Jamil was glad you were coming along because not only would he get to show his homeland to you but you would always cheer him up and help him relax when he was feeling too stressed with his responsibilities. When he joined you in the evening after a long day of running after Kalim, you'd sometimes massage his shoulders or kiss the tension away. He'd need that today, he mused. He'd make sure to show you all of his favorite things about the Scalding Sands in return.
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What he wasn't expecting was for you to faint from the heat. If anyone was an expert in keeping people safe and comfortable, it was Jamil. He had warned you about the harsh desert heat. Repeatedly. Yet it had still happened.
So now that you had fainted despite him making sure you're hydrated and otherwise protected from the sun, the only thing that was left for him to do was to make sure you'd get back on your feet as soon as possible.
It wouldn't be Jamil if he didn't bring a first-aid kit so he uses anything in there that could possibly help you.
He ignores Kalims worried commentary of the situation and makes sure you're provided with the best possible support.
Kalim orders food for you specifically so you get your energy back.
Jamil has an arm wrapped around you and makes sure you drink enough water. When the food arrives, you enjoy the exquisite meal. "Out of all things, you had to order a gourmet lunch that's more expensive than a street food vendor's entire shop?", Jamil stares at Kalim with his typical half-lidded expression, "you know a wet burger would have been much cheaper and been here earlier right?" You immediately stop eating, still having a bite in your mouth while staring at your boyfriend in shock upon the realization of what Kalim had ordered for you. "Just eat it now, Kalim is just like that", Jamil sighs, gesturing for you not to worry about the cost.
Jamil presses a kiss to your forehead and holds your hand as you continue your trip, urging you to take things slow for now. He stays by your side and keeps you safe. Once you're wearing the outfit Kalim's family had specifically prepared for his friends, Jamil at least doesn't worry anymore about you not being dressed appropriately for the desert climate. "You look beautiful", he squeezes your hand and presses a kiss to your lips, relieved you're safe and seem to be doing well.
Malleus is so hyped when he not only gets to go on a trip to the Scalding Sands without his retainers but gets to be with you on top of it all. It's like Halloween and Birthdays and International Gargoyle Day (something he may or may not have made up) in one.
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If he's waiting for three hours in front of the dark mirror before the trip out of sheer excitement you can bet you're waiting with him. "They're not going to forget about us, we don't have to get up at 4am for this, Mal-", you protested as he dragged you out of bed to get ready for the trip.
He wants to share every moment with you. The trip has barely begun and he already feels like these are going to be memories he'd treasure forever.
When you faint because of the heat, he's super worried. He catches you and holds you in his arms with a panicked expression. So terrified he's losing you for a moment. "Viper, y/n is dying", he calls out with noticeable fear in his shaking voice. The people around you are raising an eyebrow and staring at your group. "They're not dying", Jamil corrects Malleus hastily and tries to signal to the concerned spectators that you were going to be fine, "they've just fainted from the heat. Let's get them somewhere in the shade and provide them with water."
Malleus nods and water droplets start forming from thin air everywhere around you. "Not with magic", Jamil gestures wildly and is happy to see the car Kalim called arrive, "we brought bottled water. No. more. magic." Jamil is so stressed out already, he's glad when you wake up again because that makes him avoid more fun surprises from their royal guest out of worry.
The thing is that Malleus getting into a relationship with anyone is not something to be taken lightly and could have a huge impact on the political landscape of Briar Valley so until you're sure you actually want to rule over his kingdom with Malleus, your relationship unfortunately has to stay a secret. Which means none of your classmates except for Lilia, Silver and Sebek are actually aware you two are an item.
"You're all seeing this right? This is not a mirage?", Cater whispers audibly with a shocked expression while in the limousine. The reason for his bafflement is Malleus gently holding you in his arms while you were resting and recovering from your heatstroke. Malleus holds Twisted Wonderland's equivalent of a Capri Sun, letting you drink from the straw while he had an arm wrapped around you. There was still worry in his voice and he would have loved to be alone with you right now to give you some affection in order to cheer you up.
He stays super close to you throughout the rest of your trip to make sure you'll be okay because you really did a number on his poor inexperienced heart.
He's simultaneously so relieved you're okay that he's even more affectionate than usual. He shares one of those melons with you and says it's so your love lasts forever. ❤️
Lilia was so excited to take you on this trip. The last time he visited the capital of Sunset Savannah, it hadn't been urbanized yet so he was looking forward to exploring the modern metropolis with you and being able to provide you with some stories and trivia about the past during the trip.
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Lilia himself is pretty sensitive to the sun and he definitely warned you about the heat.
Nevertheless, you faint early on in the trip due to a heatstroke. Did I not pay enough attention to them?, Lilia asks himself as he carries you to the shade.
He thinks it's unlikely anything too bad is going to happen to you but he's still worried. He holds you in his arms the whole time until you wake up. He gently rubs your wrist with his thumb and kisses your forehead gently. You come to your senses not long after, your eyes flickering open and looking into the face of your lover who is giving you a soft smile. True love's kiss, Lilia mused and chuckles.
"We were quite worried about you, dear", he pats your head, hugs you and Kalim hands him the water bottle. Lilia helps you drink if your hand is shaking and you struggle to hold the bottle on your own.
He raised Silver and one overgrown dragon fae, he knows how to take care of someone, so you're in good hands unless he brings up his cooking. Then it's time to hit the bricks.
Lilia has an arm wrapped around you all the way back to the hotel, so you have some support if you're still low on energy or feeling a little dizzy.
He makes sure you get something to eat and drink enough water once you're back at the hotel.
He holds you for a while and kisses your lips gently. "Don't scare me like this again, okay?", he chuckles as you nuzzle his neck and hug him back.
He'd let the medics do a check-up and he'd be really happy if you're in the condition to continue exploring the capital with him and the others but if not he vows to take note of everything that might interest you and show it to you before you go back to Night Raven College.
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romeavecryst · 3 months
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Thinking about prohero!bakugo as your husband while in a hard labor.
Femblk!reader in mind!! Not proofread, mentions of childbirth.
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.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.
An at home water birth she’s been sitting in the tub for 2 hours her contractions getting worse as she held on to the sides of the tub. Nobody has been able to get ahold of her husband. She was terrified that she was about to deliver her first child by herself . She was in so much pain, she couldn’t do it by herself . Not that she was by herself, she had her parents and his with her right now, and het best friend ochaco. They were with her but he wasn’t.
He promised, by not taking time off of work he would be there in a heartbeat as soon as she went into labor with their son.
“I cant do it, mama I cant do it.”She sobbed, her hand holding her mothers as she pushed her curls back.
“I know baby you’re so close, your baby Boys gonna be here soon.” Her mother spoke kissing the side of her head.
She was right but she could tell she was trying to distract her for the fact her husband wasn’t here with her.
It felt as if forever had passed, the sound of the front door opening in a hurry and the sight of her husband. He was beat up a bit sweaty, “I’m sorry, oh baby, I’m sorry.” He spoke taking his heavy gear off real fast, walking over to her quickly.
His hands grabbed her face as she let out another sob, “I didn’t think you were gonna be here..”
His face softened as his brows frowned “I know love, I’m right here I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m so fucking sorry.” He apologized profusely, his lips meeting yours.
She was finally fully dilated, but even after multiple painful pushes she couldn’t. She felt as if all her strength was gone, not to mention she has started bleeding. “I cant do it, suki— I cant.” She cried her hands squeezing his wrist as he held her face.
“Yes you can, common baby, im right here.” He spoke.
He was with her. That’s all that truly mattered, he wouldn’t ever leave her alone. One more that’s all she had in her, so she did.
Her baby wasn’t even crowning yet. The feeling of her body losing strength scared katsuki as her grip on his wrist lessened. “Hey! Hey common baby, you’ve got this.” He spoke picking up her face, her melanin features covered in sweat and tears.
She shook her head weakly. He stood up quickly kicking off his boots, taking his phone and ear piece out of his pockets. He moved quickly to behind her, stepping into the tub submerging himself in the water. His hands grabed her softly her back falling against his chest, the nurse helping position.
Katsuki wrapped his arms around her right above her engorged belly that that held the life they created together. He held her so securely, he could care less of what bodily fluids that were in the water. All he cared about was her. He couldn’t bare the pain she was in it killed him how she called out his name, saying she couldn’t do it. He couldn’t imagine the pain she was in. He did this to her.
“Mr. Bakugo I need you to help her she has to continue to push or your baby could get stuck.” The nurse spoke.
He nodded his hand resting on her sweaty forehead “you got this baby, just a bit more mama.” He whispered. He could feel her nod.
In this moment so many things ran through his mind, how people always doubted his love for her. How could they, he was right there with her always even during school. ‘Do you love her.’ He was asked by the media constantly.
Yes, yes he loved her, with ever atom and cell in his body, and a million times over. She was his Sun, the brightness that he looked forward to, and his Sun was bleeding and screaming in pain and all he could do was hold her. She did nothing buts show him her love and friendship she made him smile more in the past 5 years they’ve been together, than he ever did before that. She was having his baby, he loved her, and he would soon share his heart with another, their son. But now all he could do was hold her.
But to her that was more that enough, his encouraging words. That’s all she needed, “I can see his head! Common one more big push!” The nurse said.
One more.
One more, there he was. There was no crying, and she couldn’t open her eyes but a few firm past on the back there they were, your sons high pitched cry’s. Her and Katsuki let out a heavy sigh of relief hers being more of a sob.
The nurse places the slimey baby on her chest. But it soon want just Her and the baby crying, the shutters of katsukis body she could feel them as he cried into her shoulder.
“You did it. Fuck baby you did it.” He cried softly holding her and the baby.
This was his new world now.
˖ ࣪⊹
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mrchiipchrome · 6 months
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Airport Dad
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W.C. - 1.8 k
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“RISE AND SHINE EVERYONE, we leave in an hour. I expect everyone to be ready at least five minutes before we go.” The girls around you groan at the loud intrusion, all having been asleep only moments before.
You were notorious for being a real pain in the ass when it came to flying. Everyone had to get up bright and early, even if the flight wasn’t for another 4 or more hours, or even in the morning. You personally made sure that everyone had their passports and all necessary paperwork, leaving last to make sure that everyone got on the road safely.
“Remind me why we decided it was a good idea to stay over?” Lotte groans out, raising her arms high above her head as she stretches. 
“I don’t know” Vic groans back to the taller girl, light now hitting her eyes.
“ALESSIA I hate your girlfriend right now.” Kyra tells your girlfriend, who’s come up behind you to place her head on your shoulder smiling at your friends. 
Leaning on the doorframe, you turn your head to press a soft kiss to your girlfriend’s lips. She smiles against your lips, her hands coming to settle on your waist. 
Gagging is what makes the two of you break from the kiss, turning your heads to see all three of your friends with disgusted expressions on their faces.
“Breakfast’s ready, we’ll be downstairs if you need us.” You tell your friends, the three of them nodding in their sleepy haze. 
After a while, both you and Alessia can hear the rushing footsteps thumping against the steps of your stairs. When Kyra comes rushing into the kitchen, sock clad feet gliding all over the floor, neither you nor Alessia are surprised.
“TOAST!” You share a smile with your girlfriend at the Australian's childlike excitement. You do get a little worried about your chairs though as she nearly throws herself into one.
The next two musketeers come down the stairs at a civilized pace, neither of them having the same type of energy as the brunette.
“Eat up, you’ll need the energy for today.” The girls around the table nod at your words, eating peacefully, or in Kyra’s case, very rapidly. 
“Less, you feel like helping me bring all the suitcases down?” She nods at you, leaving her seat at the table to go help you.
When you and the forward are fully out of sight and earshot of the other girls, you pull her into a deep kiss. Lips moving frantically against the other’s, tongues meeting each other in the middle, her hands in your hair, yours on her waist.
“What’s happening up there? Doesn’t sound like you’re moving any suitcases.” Lotte’s voice once again interrupts your kiss, and now it’s your turn to groan. Your head drops down to Alessia’s shoulder, and she laughs at your defeated expression.
“Nothing Lotte!” You shout back at her, separating your body from your girlfriend’s.
The two of you start to bring everyone’s suitcases down, careful not to let them scratch the floor. Everytime you and Alessia meet at the top of the stairs, you share a sweet kiss, mostly for the sake of your sanity.
Eventually you start to round everyone up, telling them to go brush their teeth and do anything they need before departing from home. There was after all not a very long time until you had to drive to the training grounds to board the bus, a mere 25 minutes.
Unsurprisingly, you had already completed all your tasks long before waking the girls, same as Alessia. You’d been together long enough for her to be accustomed to your habits, and in some cases adopt them for herself.
“Kyra, did you brush your teeth?” You ask the young girl who’s bouncing on the balls of her feet. The fast, enthusiastic nod you get from her puts a small smile on your face, ruffling her hair.
Kyra gives you a playful glare as she smooths down her hair, pushing you when she’s done.
“OKAY PEOPLE, let’s go through the checklist. Everybody have their headphones?” You pause, waiting for the three hums to come. “Phones? Chargers? All other essentials?” You get hums after every thing you name, the three girls in front of you not having to worry about their passports or tickets.
“Baby, stop worrying, everything’s going to go smoothly as it always does.” Alessia comes up behind you, rubbing your shoulders soothingly and leaning up to press a small kiss to your cheek.
You take one of her hands into yours as you turn back to look at her, pressing a quick peck to her lips so as to not disgust your friends. Still, you hear scattered gagging and low boos coming from the girls.
“Yeah, yeah we get it. You’re in loooooooooove.” Lotte drags out in a sickly sweet tone, she loves to tease you two about your romance.
“Mhm, we are.” Just to add to the effect, you lean in to kiss Alessia once more, this time a slow and sensual kiss. After breaking away from the embrace you peck her lips a few more times just to be extra sweet.
“Lots, you can help me put the suitcases in the car. Vic and Kyra, choose where you want to sit in the backseat. Lessi love, please make sure they’re settled in correctly.” You’ve already started moving by the time the first words leave your lips, pulling Lotte along with you. 
Within a record time, everybody’s sitting in the car, seatbelts on and bags in the trunk. Vic sat directly behind the driver's seat, leaning her head against the window, Kyra sat directly in the middle, trying to convince the others to do the marshmallow thing, and last but not least was Lotte who sat behind the passenger seat.
“One marshmallow, check it out, woo” You hear Kyra singing absentmindedly in the backseat, slapping her thighs in the rhythm of the song. “Come on, let’s do one” 
Two hums of agreement followed and a small ‘Yay’ came from the Australian girl, your girlfriend having started driving. 
Sitting in the passenger seat was you, staring down at your phone looking over all the details of the flight. Normal airport dad activities.
“Y/n, could you film our tiktok?” Kyra taps on your shoulder, breaking the staring contest you had with your phone screen. 
“Hmm?” She smiles at you innocently, shoving her phone into your hands. “Oh, okay?”
Way too focused on getting the perfect shot of the three girls, you don’t notice the small, incredibly loving smile Alessia has on her face. She just loves how good you are with her, well your shared friends.
On the seventh take, the girls strike gold. All three of them manage to get the rhythm and words perfect, resulting in loud wooo’s and cheers just as Alessia pulls into the parking lot. 
“Thank you Y/n/n” The young girl presses a sloppy, joking kiss to your cheek, and the girls in the car laugh a little at the enthusiasm.
“Ughh” You jokingly wipe the kiss away with your sleeve, instead moving to kiss your girlfriend’s cheek.
“OH the betrayal, the anguish” Kyra throws her arm across her chest dramatically, like they would in a victorian era painting.
“Come on Ky” The girls in the backseat exited the car and started to walk in the direction of the other red clad women, leaving you and your girlfriend in the car, alone.
“You’re such an airport dad.” Alessia giggles out against your lips, pressing against each other in a featherlight embrace. 
“Mhm, you love it” She can feel her body shuddering slightly at the whispered words, the low tone just low enough for her.
“Yeah, I do” With that, your lips press against hers fully, moving against each other vigorously in a familiar dance. 
“We should probably get out.” You whisper once again.
“Yeah, we should.” Another peck is delivered to your lips before the girl opens her door, leaving you to laugh slightly before exiting the car yourself.
“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, yeah that’s all.” Stacking the suitcases on top of each other, you drag them all over to the rest of the women.
“Lessi, be a dear and take a bag, please?” She takes her own from your grasp, letting you give the others theirs.
“Thank you Y/n” The three musketeers sing out in unison, getting a wave in response before you depart in search of Jonas. 
“Less, your girlfriend might be the most fatherly person on this team” Alessia hums in agreement, shoving her hands in her pockets.
“She’s just…worried. Time management and all that is not her greatest quality.” Your girlfriend responds quietly, but lovingly at the same time.
“Well, she’ll be a great mother at least” Lotte shrugs in Alessia’s direction, the blush overtaking Alessia’s face turning her into a tomato.
“Mhm, she will.” 
“Less, time to get on the bus.” She jumps a little when you place your hand on her shoulder, the touch unexpected.
The entire bus ride is spent beside your girlfriend, laughing and sharing soft conversations that would get interrupted every once in a while by a surprisingly loud teammate.
“Gather around, gather around” You hear Jonas shout, all the girls standing in a circle around him. “Standard procedure, give the attendants your passports so that we know that you’re ALL here and that we’re not missing anybody.”
Leaning down, you open the smallest pouch of your carryon bag, pulling out a plastic bag containing 5 passports stacked neatly on top of each other. 
You beckon the four women over, checking each passport before handing them to their owners. 
“Be careful with these, I can collect them from you later if y’all want me to.” You tell them all, worried expression painting your face.
“Aye aye captain” Vic salutes you, making you crack a small smile.
“Okay, get on with it, Less and I’ll be right behind you” Alessia’s arms are both around your waist, her head on your shoulder as your arm is wrapped around hers. 
“You’ll be a great mother, you know” Your lover mutters sweetly into your ear, feeling your body perk up under her arms.
“You really think so?” The slight insecurity in your voice makes her look up at you, love filled baby blues staring at you intently.
“No, I know so.” She places a quick kiss to the underside of your jaw before she starts to lead you to the entrance of the plane.
“I love you Alessia Russo.” 
“I love you too Y/n Y/l/n.” 
“UHHH Y/N, I LOST MY PASSPORT!”
“KYRA COONEY-CROSS YOU HAD ONE JOB!”
There was absolutely no doubt in Alessia’s mind that you’d make an amazing parent, but maybe it would be wise to wait a few years, no matter the baby fever she may or may not have.
746 notes · View notes
megalony · 3 months
Text
She's Going Down
This is an Eddie X Buck X reader imagine that I hope you will all like, feedback is always greatly appreciated.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff
911 Masterlist
Summary: When a little boy falls down a mine shaft, (Y/n) goes down to get him. But when she becomes stuck and in danger too, her boys do everything to get her back.
Enjoy.
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"I found him!"
(Y/n) flopped down onto her stomach, feeling the squelching mud soak into her jacket and slither up her exposed neck when she leaned closer. Her nose crinkled as she brought her gloved hand to her mouth and bit down on the end of her glove, ripping it off so she could dangle her arm down in the landmine.
Her knees pushed down into the mud that felt like quick sand trying to swallow her whole. The tip of her boots started to sink down and her armpits burned against the edge of the wood in front of her that she was leaning over.
"It's okay honey, take my hand." Her voice strained and her arm started to shake the further she tried to reach down.
Just a little further and she would grab him.
A few more inches down and the five year old would be close enough to take (Y/n)'s hand. She would pull him up out of the landmine and hand him back to his petrified parents.
"Come on," Her lips curved into a smile despite the wince that flashed across her face. (Y/n) pursed her lips and tried to keep smiling to reassure him.
He wasn't moving. He wasn't reaching his hand out. He needed to meet her halfway, (Y/n) couldn't lower herself down any more without falling and crashing down with him. She needed him to help her get him out of here.
"Please? That's it."
With a deep breath, (Y/n) shimmied further across the mud until her upper chest was tilted over the side, imbedded into the rotten wood framing the edges of the square mine hidden into the Earth. She could see how he had fallen. There was nothing around here to suggest there might be tunnels down in the field and a few bits of wet, rotting wood weren't enough to stop people from falling down here. It must have been very decrepid for a light weight child to break through like this.
(Y/n) tensed her knees and her thighs as much as she could, grunting as she swatted her hand out. She could feel his small hand skim the tops of her fingers but she couldn't quite grasp him yet.
"(Y/n), what are you doing?!" Evan's frantic voice carried over the field along with the bustling wind that swept through the field like the start of a tornado.
Her lips clamped together as she tried to ignore her partner and focus on the little boy. He didn't look too panicked considering the situation he was in. His face was void of any emotion, the only thing giving away his panic was each frantic, shallow breath that he took.
Her fingers skimmed his hand again and (Y/n) did her best to curl her fingers around the back of his tiny hand, envisioning Chris hanging beneath her, desperate to be saved.
Just as her hand found his, his other hand slipped from the rod of metal he had been clinging to so he didn't fall further down the rabbit hole. His hand was too slippery to hold on to. She couldn't tighten her hand quick enough and pull up before his fingers were slipping through her hold and he was falling.
"No!"
A violent scream burst past (Y/n)'s lips and she could feel her chest sliding forward against the mud that was dragging her down. Her boots scratched through the dirt and slimey, watery Earth she was laid in. Her body tilted down and started to go forwards but it wasn't enough to let her grab the little boy before he was tumbling down into the darkness.
The mine swallowed him up and vanished him from (Y/n)'s sight until all she had were his screams echoeing up to mingle with hers.
Hands clamped down around (Y/n)'s waist when her hands scrambled to press into the walls of the mine to stop herself following the boy down. Her fingers scraped through the mud and imbedded in the crumbling walls.
Evan's chest smashed down into the back of (Y/n)'s thighs, pressing her down into the mud like he was trying to make a cast of her body. His fingers punctured into her hips and scratched against her stomach to bind her against him and stop her from falling. His head whacked into her lower back while he smashed his knees into the dirt and pulled up before he started falling too.
He reeled himself up and dragged (Y/n) with him, letting her body propell backwards until her head banged into his shoulder and her weight fell onto his chest and pushed down into the mud on his back.
All the air crushed out of Evan's lungs and he laid gasping while he moved his trembling arms to bind around (Y/n)'s waist to reassure himself that she wasn't about to fall. He wasn't about to lose her.
"He fell."
Tremors rattled through (Y/n)'s body causing her to flail back and forth against Evan. She couldn't stop the tears that started to drench her face. She had been so close. An inch closer, a second faster, a better grip. Just a little difference and he would have been up in her arms already. He would have been safe and sound back in his mother's arms if (Y/n) acted a second faster.
"We'll get him out." Evan stayed laid out on his back for a few more seconds, unable to move until he heard the rest of the team heading their way.
If Evan had been a second later he would have watched his girlfriend disappear down into the depths of the Earth. A split second difference and he wouldn't of grabbed her in time to stop her from falling. Five seconds later and he wouldn't have even seen (Y/n) laid out in the mud, reaching for the little boy. And the team would have been stumped trying to find the boy and (Y/n).
(Y/n) turned her head to the right and pressed her face into the crook of Evan's neck until he felt her tears soaking into his skin.
"I… I nearly had him."
Opening her eyes, (Y/n) lifted her head from Eddie's shoulder and looked over when she noticed Bobby start to aim their way. She could feel Eddie's hand smoothing up and down her arm and his lips pressed to the back of her head as he sighed into her hair.
Waiting for everything to be set up felt like they were waiting for the world to end. And the longer they waited, the worse the weather was becoming. They needed to hurry before the little boy lost consciousness and his state deteriorated.
They didn't even know if he was okay down there.
"I think we're ready." Bobby stood in front of the team with his hands on his hips and his eyes doing a sweep over each of them, silently asking the question.
Who was going to go down?
"I'll do it." (Y/n) straightened up and smoothed her hands up and down her thighs to try and get rid of the adrenaline doing summersaults in her stomach. She wanted to be the one to go down and get him out. She had been so close earlier, she wasn't going to let him slip through her fingers again. She wouldn't fail him again. (Y/n) would go down into that mine shaft and get him back out again safely.
"No."
Her head turned to the left and her eyes narrowed in on Eddie. His expression was stoic with pursed lips and narrowed eyes that gave nothing away. "I'll go," was the only thing Eddie gave as an explanation.
"That's not your call and I'm smaller than you. I'm going down."
Eddie couldn't decide for her whether she chose to do this or not. It was (Y/n)'s decision and her mind was already made up. She wasn't sitting around, waiting for something to go wrong and for someone else to do the job she had failed the first time around.
Besides, (Y/n)'s frame was more petite than Eddie and Evan and even Hen. She would fit better down the new shaft they had dug up parallel to the one the boy had fallen down. She would be a better fit to get in a harness and squeeze down to find him. It would be too much of a tight fit for Eddie to go down and then connect the boy to his rope and winch them both up together.
"Are you sure?" When (Y/n) nodded, Bobby pointed over his shoulder as a signal for her to go and get ready.
(Y/n) could feel Eddie walking close behind her along with Bobby and Chimney hot on his tail. Her chest tightened and she held her breath when she felt Eddie's hand reach out and clamp down around her upper arm. His chest pressed up into her back and his lips hovered over her ear, breathing hot air down her neck that contrasted to the brisk chill in the air that made her shiver.
"If you can't get him for any reason or we need to pull you up, you listen. Alright?" There was something tense behind Eddie's strained voice but (Y/n) found herself nodding before she even understood what he was saying.
He didn't want her to fight them if the weather turned bad or their time was running out and (Y/n) couldn't reach the boy in time. They all knew how she would think, she would want to go against orders and do anything she could to save this boy just like the rest of them. But Eddie wouldn't risk losing one of his partners, not for anything. And he needed (Y/n) to promise him that she would listen.
Eddie pressed a light kiss against (Y/n)'s cheek before he moved to stand with Evan who was leaning over, looking at the new hole they had dug with the crane. But when Evan looked up and his eyes locked with Eddie, his shoulders slumped and his hands dropped from his hips.
"She's going down, isn't she?" Evan didn't need an answer. One look at his partner showed he was right.
The rain poured down around them and made the ground even more sloppy and unsafe than it had been this morning when they arrived. Evan could feel each droplet pouring down the back of his neck and trickling down his back making him twist and itch uncomfortably.
His fingers itched in his gloves that he pulled tighter to make it easier to move in them before he moved through the swamp of mud towards (Y/n).
Her doe eyes looked up at him but neither of them spoke.
(Y/n) watched Evan as he moved to take hold of the harness she had pulled over her shoulders. He gave it a sharp tug to make sure it was in place properly before he pulled it around her middle and clipped it into place. Once it was in place, Evan swiped the helmet from her head and replaced it with the hard hat he handed over.
(Y/n) clipped the circular hat over her head and wiggled it into place. She hated the straps on these hats, they cut into her throat and chin like a noose.
"Please be careful."
"I will, I promise." (Y/n) let a smile dance across her lips when Evan pressed his gloved hand beneath her chin and tilted her head up, pretending to check her helmet. She watched his eyes glance around before he leaned down and stole a quick kiss from her lips before his hands moved to her hips.
He turned them both around and walked close behind her, guiding her over to the winch where Bobby and Chimney were knelt down in the mud.
"Let us know when you find him and his condition before we pull you up. You don't have long down there with these conditions."
"Okay."
Evan took the clip from Chimney and attached it to (Y/n)'s harness, giving a sharp tug to make sure it was attached and not at risk of coming loose. The last thing they needed was for it to deattach and having to get someone else to go down for both (Y/n) and the boy.
When (Y/n) leaned over to look down the dark hole in the ground, she had a sudden urge to jump. The rain beat down against them all and pattered into the hole like an endless, open drum. The bright LED light set up over the hole didn't give a lot of light cast down, barely three feet of the ground were exposed before it went pitch black.
(Y/n) turned on the light on her helmet and slumped down to sit on the floor. The mud squelched beneath her and she could feel the blood leaving her stomach to fuel her head and her hands when she dangled her legs down into the gap.
"Let's go," She nodded over at Chimney and once he turned on the winch, (Y/n) leaned back and slowly let herself slide down.
Her stomach flew up to her throat when her legs dangled free and she felt all her weight fall down. The harness tightened around her thighs and her stomach and felt like it was pinching her lungs. It was like she was sat on a very odd, uncomfortable zipline that was going down instead of across. She didn't like the way her weight pooled around her stomach and the rope felt like it wasn't strong enough to hold her but (Y/n) tried to push those fears aside.
When she looked up, she could see both her boys leaning over, both wearing stern, tense expressions until the small torch on her helmet couldn't find their faces anymore.
(Y/n) kept one hand on the rope and briefly moved her other hand to the radio strapped to her left shoulder, just to make sure it was still there and ready for any emergency she might have.
Her feet pressed up against the mud in front of her but she made sure not to apply too much pressure. She didn't want her feet pushing through and creating a sink hole or crumble some of the walls in here. The tips of her boots pressed against the mud and started to move like she was walking to help lower herself down steady and safely.
Evan braced his hands on his knees and hunched forward as if looking deeper would let him see some angle of his girlfriend. All he could see was the rope disappearing out of sight, feeding the ground like a never-ending cycle.
His fingertips scratched through his trousers and his lower back arched out as he continued to look down. If he moved away from here he would only panic and there wasn't anything else he could do right now. Evan couldn't go and comfort the parents when he had no way of telling them everything was going to be alright. Especially not when he was worried because it was his girlfriend that had gone down to get their son out.
Sighing through gritted teeth, Eddie tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes up at the darkened sky.
They had quite a few lights set up near the house and all around the field and there was a huge LED light attached to the crane. It gave them ample light to see what was going on and so they could help (Y/n) if need be, but the weather wasn't doing them any favours.
The rain was making the mud worse and the whole field was becoming swamped in rivers. It made things unsafe for (Y/n), the ground was better when it was firm and dry and hard. And the thunder and lightning crackling through the sky was indicating a storm heading their way. They didn't have long before they would have to retreat and wait out the storm until it was safe to go back down again.
Eddie moved round and stood a foot behind Evan so he could slouch his shoulders up against the metal beams holding up the light fixtures. One arm folded over his chest but he reached his other arm out and tightly gripped Evan's shoulder. He smoothed his thumb across his neck and silently watched the panic roll through his boyfriend.
After a minute or so, Evan sighed and moved back. He was only going to panic everyone by hovering like a worried mother hen and he couldn't help. Bobby and Chimney were in charge of the winch and the construction manager was stood watching and waiting in case he needed to add any input.
Evan backed up a few paces until he was level with Eddie. He slumped to the right and let his head flop onto Eddie's shoulder. His feet sank into the mud and he slouched his legs down to lower his height to make it easier on his neck to lean into Eddie like this. He felt Eddie's hand move from his shoulder to curve around his waist and Evan's eyes fell closed when he felt his boyfriend's lips press against the top of his head.
"Okay, I'm down. Give me a few feet to move around." (Y/n) wiggled her body and shimmied around when her feet finally touched the floor and she could stand up straight instead of dangle down like a worm on a hook.
She held the rope and pulled it a little as they fed her enough so she could move around. It was safer to move while still being connected to the rope, just in case she needed to be dragged back out in an emergency or in case she fell when going across into the mine shaft.
(Y/n) made sure the rope was tucked under her right arm so she didn't trip on it before she moved to the hole broken through the muddy wall. Her nose crinkled and she coiled her arms into her chest as she climbed up and started to shuffle through the wall.
"Adam? Honey, can you hear me? I'm here to get you out."
She poked her head into the old mine shaft and took a quick sweep around but her heart dropped to her stomach when she looked down.
There he was.
There was more water in here than she expected. The rain had been collecting up for a while to have such a swamp down there with him. He was clinging to a broken, rotting piece of wood to keep him afloat. His chin was slumped on the wood along with both his arms, but he was conscious. His small head was tilted up towards her and his eyes were wide when they locked on her.
"I see him! I- I need another ten feet of rope, he's swamped in the water." (Y/n) flopped her legs over the edge and braced her hands on the wall. She had to go down at least five more feet to reach him and she needed rope to give her leeway to get down safely.
"(Y/n) be quick, the weather's turning up here."
"I'm trying." With a push, she slumped off the ledge and let herself dangle down once again as the rope started to go down. "Stay there Adam, I'm almost there."
When a ragged screech cut through the tunnel, (Y/n) lifted her head up and braced her hands on the wall.
"Fuck!"
The rope was getting caught on the roof of the bridging tunnel connecting both mine shafts together. If she let it keep getting caught it could crumble the tunnel or break the rope or get it imbedded in the mud and she and Adam would be well and truly stuck down here.
"Stop, that's enough." (Y/n) pressed her helmet into the wall and moved both hands back to the wall as she tried to think. "Sorry boys," She whispered quietly to herself before she reached down for the buckle.
Once it was unclipped from her harness, (Y/n) looked down as both hands held tight to the rope so she could work out where to drop herself down.
She took a very deep breath to inflate her lungs before she pushed back from the wall and let go of the rope. Her arms spread out and her eyes snapped closed as her stomach bolted into her mouth from the rush of falling. All the air swept up around her but as soon as her feet touched the water, her whole body went cold.
Freezing cold water enveloped around her body and dragged her down until she was trembling and jolting from side to side. Her arms frantically flapped around and she kicked her legs until her head broke through the surface.
Deep gasps clamoured past her wobbling, jittering lips and (Y/n) shook her head to rid her eyes of water. She had landed just behind Adam where she wanted to be so she didn't knock him or drag him into the depths with her.
"(Y/n)?! (Y/n) what the fuck did you just do?"
"(Y/n) what happened? Answer me!" Eddie's fingers pressed so tightly into his radio that the plastic started to creak beneath his grip and a slight crunch made him let go before he broke his only connection to her.
He pushed forward along with Evan who was already on his knees in the dirt, leaning as far into the hole as he could without risking himself falling.
Eddie felt bile rising in the back of his throat and he choked when Evan reached forward and grabbed the rope. He pulled it up with so much ease that Eddie almost cried. (Y/n) wasn't on the rope anymore. If Evan could pull it that like that, there was clearly no weight dangling on the end of the rope.
"(Y/n)?"
"The rope g-got stuck, I unbuckled for a minute. I've got Adam, he's conscious. We're coming back up to the tunnel now, it's okay."
"You shouldn't do that!" Evan all but screamed into the radio as he sank back on his heels and tried to take deep breaths. He tilted his head back until the back of his head bumped into Eddie's thigh.
He thought the rope had snapped. He thought she had dropped even further down into the shaft and they would lose her for good. Eddie had been telling himself he would have to gear up and go down after all. She needed to tell them what she was planning to do. She couldn't just take it into her own hands and frighten them like that.
"Up you go, honey. Grab the rope and get into that tunnel, I'm right behind you."
(Y/n) hoisted Adam up out of the water by his waist and held him as high as she could without sinking down below the surface. Her knees braced into the wall and she took deep breaths to keep her lungs inflated and herself afloat.
Once Adam reached up and grabbed the rope, she moved her hands to his legs and pushed him until he grabbed the ledge and wiggled into the tunnel.
The moment he was safe, (Y/n) curled both hands around the rope and pulled as hard as she could. She braced her feet on the wall and started to climb like she was absailing in the wrong direction. Her left hand dug into the tunnel and she let go of the rope, bashing her knees into the dirt as all her weight moved into her arms. Groans and harsh breaths wheezed past her lips until she was finally laid on her stomach in the tunnel.
She had him.
He was here with her and he was safe.
"Get back on the rope, we need to move you both now."
Her arm curled around Adam's waist and she tucked him deep into his side and crawled into the second tunnel the team had dug out. Her feet planted down on the floor and she gently stood Adam down on his feet. But when (Y/n) tilted her head back and looked up, another shiver rocked down her spine and her body started trembling in fear as well as frozen chills.
"Cap, this tunnel is too narrow…I'll have to send Adam up first." There wasn't enough space for (Y/n) to be winched up at the same time as Adam, they hadn't made this tunnel big enough.
"Quickly."
"Okay honey, hold onto this and the firemen will pull you up. Your mummy is waiting up there for you." (Y/n) strapped the spare harness tucked into her side around Adam and clipped the buckle onto his harness.
"And you?"
"I'll be right behind you. He's ready, pull him up." (Y/n) leaned her head and shoulders up against the wall and watched Adam slowly disappear like a package being delivered up to the Gods.
"Pass him 'ere." Eddie held his arms out and quickly picked Adam up once Chimney unbuckled him. He spun on his heels and treked through the mud towards Hen, the paramedics and Adam's parents. But when a clap of thunder broke out through the sky, Eddie shuddered and slumped forward.
He barely felt Hen take Adam from his arms before he was spinning around to look behind him when he could hear raised voices. His shoulders pulled inwards as tremors rattled through his system when lightning struck the sky and the weather shifted.
Eddie watched, helpless, as Chimney started to run with the rest of the crew and Bobby dragged Evan away just as the crane started to fall.
Shockwaves ran beneath the surface and the ground seemed to rupture and shift beneath them. Eddie's legs were taken from beneath him and he was pushed backwards until his back hit the dirt and his lungs stopped breathing and restarted themselves.
Evan braced his hands over his head and buried his face in his arms when he and Bobby stumbled to the ground that started to shudder and move beneath them. No air left his lips and his whole body jerked back and forth as his mind started to scream. He was going to be sucked into the mud. He was going to fall through the ground to the centre of the Earth. The ground was giving way beneath him.
He could hear the electricity sparking and combusting through the sky when the crane took out half of the electric lights they had set up around the field.
Eddie had never heard his partner scream like that.
He had never heard such a shrill, broken sound as what left Evan's lips in that moment and carried across the field over to where Eddie was laid, flat out and stunned into silence. He pushed himself forward, struggling for breath but his eyes focused in time to see Evan bolt across the hazardous field.
"(Y/n)!" Her name fell from Evan's lips in a tortured scream and his tone rose an octave the more he started to scream out her name. He slumped down to his knees, throwing the metal rods out the way that had previously held up the winch and the light fixture.
"(Y/n)! No, no (Y/n)!"
Evan dug his gloved hands as far into the soft, sloppy soil as he could and started to rake it up. He moved mountains of dirt either side of his knees and leaned forward, scrambling to dig and dig until he could burrow his way down into the Earth to find his girl. They had moved. They had let her go down there alone. They didn't give her any back up. They didn't get her up in time.
It was supposed to be the boy they risked losing down there, not (Y/n). She was Evan and Eddie's priority and at the end of the day, she was the team's biggest priority. They looked after each other before the people they served in the community. (Y/n) was more important to them, they had to protect her first and foremost.
No one had protected her this time.
"(Y/n)," Her name fell past Evan's lips in a broken sob and he brushed his eyes against his shoulder to try and clear his vision and focus himself on his task.
"Buck, Buck stop." Bobby reached down and tried to hold Evan by the shoulders but he was roughly shoved away.
"Get her out! Dig. Get her out she's stuck down there!"
"(Y/n)? (Y/n) can you hear me?" Eddie pressed his lips to the top of his radio and pressed the button until he could feel it crunching beneath his finger. His tongue darted out to run across his lips when they all waited but they got nothing in response. No crackle of the radio, no scream. No fists pounding the Earth showing she was still okay down there. Not even the sound of her breath. "Baby please…"
His hand dropped the radio and moved to tangle in his damp locks as he threw his head back and stared up at the starless, bleak sky that had done this to them.
What were they going to do?
"Buck, step away."
"Evan." Eddie crouched down in front of his partner and wrapped one arm around Evan's chest and the other around his back. He heaved him up, trying to ignore the sudden grip Evan had on his arm and push him when he fought to stay scrambling in the dirt.
"We need to get her out-"
"Baby we can't dig over a hundred feet into the ground by hand." Eddie pressed his lips to the top of Evan's head, letting his tears soak into his boyfriend's hair as he managed to flop Evan down onto the floor. He knelt down beside him, tightening his arms around him until Evan was squashed into his chest with his head on Eddie's shoulder. He panted and gasped into Eddie's shoulder, gripping his arm so tightly he was about to tear it off.
They couldn't dig that far down into the ground with their hands. They had to find another way to get down to (Y/n).
Eddie could barely feel each breath that passed through his lips, but he could feel himself shaking.
He shouldn't have let her go down. He should have insisted that he be the one to get on the harness and go into that stupid tunnel. He knew it was too dangerous to send her down but he let her go anyway.
What had he done?
"What do we do?" Eddie looked up at Bobby while he began to sway Evan back and forth to stop him from passing out. He was already in the middle of a panic attack and Eddie couldn't comfort Evan and try to keep his mind on (Y/n) at the same time.
"The crane is down… either we try and get someone down the original shaft if it isn't completely collapsed, or we find another way to dig the new one again."
"Get the winch back up and running and I'll go down and get her. We can't dig again, we don't know how much air she has down there." Eddie's voice came out muffled against Evan's hair but his eyes were focused on Evan. His partner was sat, suddenly silent as he stared at the ground that had effectively swallowed up their girlfriend.
Eddie would go back down the original tunnel, he didn't care if it was crumbling and close to collapse. He would go down and get their girlfriend back out. They couldn't waste time, no one knew if she was suffocating or if she had an air pocket keeping her safe.
Digging with shovels was going to take time to get as far down as they needed to reach (Y/n). A winch would be quicker and Eddie didn't care how unsafe it was, he would take that risk to find his girl.
"W-what if we can't find her?"
Evan tilted his head back and squinted at the rain pouring down his face and soaking into his eyes. He smushed his cheek into Eddie's shoulder but he hated the blood rising to the surface of Eddie's skin turning his neck and face burnt crimson. And he hated seeing the tears mingle in with the raindrops on Eddie's face.
"We will. We're not leaving her down there." He sounded so certain and sure and it calmed one of the many nerves in Evan's churning stomach.
But Evan still coiled Eddie's arm tighter to his chest and started to rock back and forth again. Because what if they didn't find her? What if she was lost down there? What if they found her too late and they couldn't revive her? Neither of them could live without (Y/n). They wouldn't be able to forgive themselves if they couldn't find her in time.
***
"I'm trapped down here!"
A broken sob left (Y/n)'s lips and she choked on air, coughing up blood, spit and flecks of dirt that were still coating her lips and tingling in her mouth.
"Boys. Boys, get me out," (Y/n) let her head fall to the right on a pile of crushed dirt and coiled her arms to her chest that hadn't stopped shaking since she fell back down into the water.
The dirt wrapped around her like a blanket, trying to soften her decent down into Hell as she waited for death to take her. She had tried moving back into the tunnel when she realised the shaft she was in was caving in on itself. She got halfway into the tunnel before a blast sent her flying down into the water in the original broken mine shaft. The only good thing had been the falling dirt. It clogged up the water and stopped her from drowning.
The water was still freezing cold. She could feel hypothermia setting into her bones that were trembling and her skin was now a very bad shade and shrunken and tight.
She didn't know what to do.
The other tunnel was completely blocked off and caved in. This one wasn't much better and every few seconds, the walls would shudder and more droplets of dirt and soil would fall down onto her. There was no where for (Y/n) to go, she couldn't climb up the walls like a spider, she wasn't connected to any rope or a winch to pull her up. And her radio didn't seem to be working.
She was cut off, trapped and felt like this was going to be her last moments on Earth. Her final moments weren't going to be spent with her boys.
That thought sent a guttural cry bubbling past (Y/n)'s lips and her arms cocooned tighter to her chest before she moved one hand up and clenched her radio again.
"Eddie… Evan… please! I'm still h-here."
"(Y/n)?!"
A gasp tumbled past her lips and she pushed herself to sit up in the mud bath she seemed to be trapped in. Her back ached and clicked into place and her hand tightened around the radio that she dragged to press it against her lips.
Did she hear that right? Was Eddie really talking to her? Or was this her mind trying to calm her down in her last moments?
"Eddie? Eddie, please, please get me out. Eddie?" She tilted her head back to look up but it was a sky of darkness surrounding her. (Y/n) couldn't tell whether the tunnel had been completely blocked off by the crumbling soil or if there were air pockets and streaks of light somewhere high above. All she could see was darkness with white spots from her eyes dancing above her.
But she had a bubble of air, for now. And static was crackling through the radio along with her partner's voice. They would know she was alive. If they heard her they would know to keep fighting and trying to get her out of here. They would know that she wasn't dead yet.
"(Y/n)… I- ell… pr- …now."
Broken fragments of a conversation crackled through the radio, but it was enough to lift (Y/n)'s spirits somewhat. He was saying her name. Either he had heard her and he knew she was alive, or he was trying to reach out to her and see if she could hear him. It didn't matter which because (Y/n) knew they were trying to find her.
"Eddie. Evan." Their names fell past her lips on a loop until the walls started to crumble.
Her shoulder hunched inwards, her hands clasped tightly around the radio that she pressed into her chest and her head tucked down. Her knees pulled up to her stomach when everything started to move and shake and a desperate, howling scream left (Y/n)'s lips when she moved.
Oh God, was she going to be buried alive?
***
"Get me down there. Now!" Eddie swiped the spare harness from the floor and bolted across to the original mine shaft. There was roughly five or six feet scraped away but with how easily they were able to start clearing it, the dirt was loose and the shaft wasn't fully closed in.
He wasn't waiting any longer for everyone to scrape and shovel away the dirt. He would get hooked up and go down now. Eddie would bash his feet into the dirt and winch down with a shovel and make a path as he went. It would be quicker and if he stood on the dirt and started to move and jump, he would surely fall down quicker than it took them to dig.
(Y/n) was alive down there. She had screamed. Eddie heard his name and a croaky version of Evan's name before she screamed. That was his girl and he had to get down to her now because something was happening to her.
He stumbled forward as he slung his legs through the harness loops and pulled them over his shoulders.
"Eddie not yet-"
"I'll dig my way down if I have to but I'm going now. She needs me."
Eddie dared to look away from Bobby and sneak a glance behind him at Evan. He had dropped his shovel the moment he heard (Y/n) scream their names and he was stood shaking his radio, hitting it and breaking it to try and speak to (Y/n). Eddie didn't want to leave Evan like this but they couldn't waste anymore time.
Just as Eddie reached down to grab the buckle and rope, he stumbled forward when he felt Evan grab his shoulders. His partner shook him so violently he almost went down on his knees and his neck snapped forward in pain. He could hear Evan shouting his name in his ear before Evan suddenly let go of him with a final shove and started to run.
"Buck- what the fuck-" Eddie waved his arms out at his sides and dropped the rope as he watched his partner run, skid and stumble through the sloppy mud at their feet.
Where was she going?
A horrid scream tore through the air and for a moment, Eddie wasn't sure who made the sound. But when he narrowed his eyes and looked into the distance, he realised it hadn't been Evan who screamed like he thought it might have been.
It was (Y/n).
Eddie pushed past Bobby, bashing his shoulder into his captain as he set off into a sprint after Evan.
There she was. Not trapped over a hundred feet down beneath the ground. Not drowning in rain water or choking beneath a pile of dirt. She was stood halfway across the field, screaming as much as her lungs would allow. The closer Eddie got, the more frantic he became. She was drenched. From head to foot, (Y/n) was lathered in water, dirt and flecks of pebbles and grass. Water was dripping from every inch of her skin and clothing.
She was stumbling. Her knees were barely keeping her upright and her arms were stretched out in front of her before she went down on her knees and flopped onto her stomach.
Rough wheezes and broken sounds left her lips and a horrible tremble was making her writhe around in the mud.
But she was here, and she was alive.
"Baby! Oh God- oh baby!" Evan crashed down into the dirt the moment he was close enough to reach out for her. His arms swooped down around her and he reeled her up until he could slump her against his chest. His fingertips dug into her waist and his other hand moved to cradle the back of her neck that was frozen stiff and as cold as the artic.
"Sweetheart- hey, hey it's okay. Look at me, hm? Come on,"
Eddie bashed his arm into Evan when he went down beside him in the mud. His hands reached out and cupped (Y/n)'s jittering face that felt like rubber from how cold and wet she was. He lifted her head up and leaned down to press their foreheads together. He didn't like the purple and blue tinge to her inner lips that were parted enough for her to start crying.
"I- I couldn't… I-"
"Shh, shh we've got you now. It's okay." He kissed her frozen lips that were barely able to move and he swiped his thumbs beneath her eyes, collecting up her tears that continued to fall. Eddie could feel tears flushing down his own face as he sniffed and tried to compose himself, but he couldn't.
"You're alright baby."
(Y/n) wasn't sure if Evan was telling her or if he was reassuring himself but either way, she relished in his voice. Both of their voices. Violent tremors racked through her body and she clung to Evan's arm, digging her nails through his florescent jacket while she pressed her forehead down into Eddie's chest.
They had her. Whatever they had been doing up here sent her breaking through another tunnel that led out into the lake. She had gotten out, she was safe and back in their arms again where she wanted to be for the rest of her life.
Eddie gently smoothed (Y/n)'s hair back behind her ears, wondering at what point she had taken off her helmet. He kissed the top of her head while Evan leaned over and tucked his face into her shoulder, both of them leaning closer into Eddie.
They had her back. They were all going to be okay.
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pupkashi · 4 months
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mistletoe-go
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satoru comes up with a new holiday tradition
a/n: hi friends !! this is a silly little thing i thought of when i went to michaels the other day and saw their christmas decorations ! let me know what u guys think :3
wordcount: 949
masterlist
satoru sees an artificial mistletoe at the store one day, his eyes linger on it for a bit, walking past it and straight to what he needed to buy. the little plant lives in the back of his head the entire time he’s walking around the store, should he buy it? you guys had already decorated for the holidays, what’s one more thing?
he snags two of the small fake plants and adds them to his cart, smiling to himself as he pays for them, already planning on exactly where to put them.
you don’t notice it when you greet satoru in the living room, smiling at him and welcoming him home.
“did you find the right batteries for the lamp?” you asked, watching as he tossed the bag to the side, grabbing what looked like a clump of leaves and tying it up so it dangled from the ceiling.
“yeah i did, can you come look at this? wanna make sure you like the placement” he smiles, holding back his maniacal giggles as you step close and closer to him, until the two of you are finally under the plant. “oh would you look at that! we’re under the mistletoe” he grins.
you can’t help but smile, laughing at his antics and rolling your eyes lovingly. “that we are” you hum, leaning into him a bit, “you know what that means right?” satoru looks into your eyes excitedly, already leaning forward as his eyes dash from your eyes to your lips.
“kiss me sweetheart, it’s tradition” he mumbles, a small smile as you lean in closer to him, lips only centimeters apart when you abruptly stop. it makes his eyes shoot open and brows furrow, lips forming into a pout, “why’d you stop?” he whines.
“don’t you hate tradition?” you tease, watching as he rolls his eyes, one arm slipping around your waist and pulling you flush against him, the other slipping behind your neck as he crashes his lips into yours.
he pulls away with a satisfied smile on his face, eyes practically sparkling as you chase his lips for one last peck, pulling away from him. he doesn’t tell you of the extra mistletoe in the bag, opting instead to sneak it into his pockets, just in case.
it’s two days later when you’re sitting across the kitchen bar from him, mindlessly eating cereal and watching him making himself some eggs, your mind so focused on the muscles of his back moving you don’t see the outline of the faux mistletoe in the left pocket of his sweats. you don’t even register what he’s doing until he’s standing in front of you, fishing in his pocket and holding his arm up over the two of you.
you look up, eyes meeting the same leaves that were hung up only a couple feet away from the two of you. “did you take that down to put it in your pocket?” you laugh in disbelief, satoru only shakes his head proudly.
“i bought two, one for home and one to go,” he explains, leaning over the counter and placing his lips onto yours, you could taste his honey chapstick when you licked your lips after.
“isn’t the point for it to be, i don’t know, random? by chance? like the Christmas spirit bringing two people together?” you ask, twirling your spoon a bit, head resting in the palm of your hand, ogling your lover as he stretched, heart faltering when his abs flexed a bit.
“oh cmon sweetheart, fate already brought us together, i think the Christmas spirit can take this year off,” he smiles, “I’ll be sure to do the mistletoe-ing this year.”
satoru was true to his word, carrying the small decor item everywhere the two of you went. you were caught off guard the first time, you knew he was serious about ‘mistletoe-go’ as he called it, but you didn’t expect him to pull it out in front of the first years.
your face burned as you eyes went wide, satoru already puckering his lips to kiss you.
“ooooo sensei!” yuji teased, giggling, megumi and nobara had made face of slight disgust, still looking out of the corner of their eyes to see if gojo would get rejected.
“cmon sugar plum don’t embarrass me infront of my kids” he whispers, you roll your eyes at him, placing your lips onto his quickly, laughing when the students shout a mix of ‘ew’s and ‘aw’s.
satoru continue to pull the mistletoe out: at the grocery store, on walks together, anywhere around the house, even at a restaurant once.
everytime he’s act surprised, ‘who put that there?’ he’d say, a smile on his face as he furrowed his brows in faux concentration before sighing, ‘gotta do what you gotta do!’ he’s smile, leaning in, ready to catch your lips in his.
you’d indulge him everytime, not caring where you were. you’d both go in for a quicker second peck, smiling into it as you both pulled away. satoru always had pink dusting his cheeks afterwards, though he’d swear you were lying to him every time.
after such a successful first year satoru made it a tradition. mistletoe-go was something he looked forward to every year, never failingto remember, breaking it out earlier and earlier over time.
“this was the best purchase ever” he smiles, holding the bundle of leaves above the two of you.
“i don’t know those batteries were really great too” you tease, leaning in and pressing your lips to his, the familiar taste of his chapstick meeting your tastebuds.
you’d never admit it to him, but you loved mistletoe-go just as much as he did.
taglist (send and ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi
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tlbodine · 6 months
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Stuck? Try junebugging.
I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.
Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?
If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!
What Is Junebugging?
Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.
The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.
How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?
OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:
Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.
Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.
I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.
I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.
Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.
This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.
It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.
Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.
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anadiasmount · 4 months
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glory box - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: pr stunts looks good on paper and online, but no one ever truly know what happens behind closed doors. when deciding to abruptly terminating your contract, you’re faced with a unsettlement that can’t be resolved until you confess the truth and nothing but the truth.
wc: 7k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa🗣️: this contain smut so minors please dni! 🔞 content ahead contains unprotected p and v, being tied up, handjob, oral on f, and being edged. a bunch of angst but fluff as promised! my longest story yet and I really love this :PP insta au's included throughout the story! like always hope you enjoy! 🤍
the streets were quieter than usual, always filled with people walking up and down, on their bikes, or with loud cars driving by. it could have been due to the weather, the grey skies and cold air, immediately making people rather stay inside than stroll around. you would rather be those people, either finish packing for your move to germany, or sit on the couch and eat sweets all night. 
the decision was made rapidly. being accepted to uni and the internship that would help you start of your career, going full ride as long as you made no mistakes or fell behind. you felt utterly grateful and full of joy, but that would mean moving away from the place you called home, to a newer city alone. 
here you had your uni friends, and some family, you weren't alone. leaving all this behind meant leaving them which you weren't prepared for. no one is ever prepared for a sudden goodbye, you hated goodbyes, it made you feel even guiltier. it wasn’t easy to break the news, with many tears and reminiscing, though the support would always be there, their words of encouragement making you feel less regretful. 
although you had one thing left to do, which was terminate the pr contract with no other than him. jude bellingham. the pr stunt that was made strictly professional turned into no other a friends with benefits situation. it was risky business, and became awkward when strangers or close friends asked you personal questions about the relationship. kids, marriage, how long you had been together, how you met. your life became a lie and you were tired of that.  
was it a foolish idea? totally. but you needed the money nonetheless, school became expensive and then you hardly could eat because you could never afford the groceries after paying utilities, your job not paying you enough even after the amount of work you put in. if there was another way, you wouldn't have hesitated to take it. 
you weren't looking forward to this, because saying goodbye to jude would make every plan and decision you made official. you would have had your pr manager do it for you but you felt the need for closure, even though it would be hard to receive that when jude was famously known everywhere. you and him were famously known everywhere. the it couple. 
they only saw what was posted online or on paper. a happy smiling couple walking into a dinner setting hand to hand, a media event consisting of many red carpet photos, being “discreetly” caught late at night stealing kisses, oh don't get started on the game day photos, or photo dumps jude did on his feed and story dedicated to you… they never knew what happened behind closed doors. it was all fake. 
the door opened, the creak making you squint your eyes and cover your ear. you saw jude walk in with the guy who made all of the pr stunt come to light, jonah. jude sent you his pearly white smile, a sudden wave of nausea hit you, reminding you about the first time you came here to officially sign off on the deal, now it was you terminating it. 
you quickly greeted jonah, avoiding jude because now you felt it impossible to do what you wanted to do. his confusion went unnoticed by jonah, but you could see hurt flash him, as jude’s body language completely changed. his hand trying to discreetly catch your attention to him. if there was one thing jude hated more than anything, it was being left out. 
“so to what do we owe this pleasure, y/n? must be something good?” jonah sipped onto his warm latte completely oblivious. you pursed your lips and looked up, feeling jude’s brown eyes drown into you. he watched as you pulled out a manilla folder, your hands slightly shaking as you opened it to reveal the contract. 
“i’m here to terminate the contract we have,” you said softly with a barely present smile, jonah choked on his drink, turning away to cough loudly in pure shock. you couldn't see it but you could almost feel the plastered face of confusion on jude’s face at your words. jude was stunned, not able to process your words. terminate our contract? 
“what are you talking about? what are you on about?” jude spoke as his brummie accent popped out more than usual, furrowing his brows as his hand finally touched your thigh trying to get you to look at him, but it only irritated him more as your attention was on jonah.
“you said if we wanted out, of this,” you pointed at the two of you, the empty space, “we had to give each other, well everyone, a two months heads up,” you stuttered, feeling your nervous system go crazy. 
“i spoke to you about this a while ago, but i made my decision…” you said surely, jonah nodding his head either in affirmation or still slightly stunned by your sudden loss in the deal. “y/n, i don't get why though? we still have a couple of months left? we have upcoming events and charities!” jude said with a crazed look. 
when jude saw you couldn't face or let alone speak to him like an adult, he scoffed and leaned back onto the chair, “no! i don’t agree to this. i won't agree to terminate the contract.” so many thoughts raced into his head, desperately wanting to know why you wanted out, or if someone was bothering you. he wanted to fight for you, to keep you away from whatever was pushing you away. 
“i’m afraid it is in the contract jude… if the other party wants out they have the right to do so… with or without the other person’s agreement,” jonah spoke defeatedly, running a hand along his forehead. “i’m guessing you know the terms and conditions that apply to this right?” he asked facing you, “yes, my pr person told me about it. i'm fully aware of the consequences.”
jude couldn't wrap his head around the fact you would be going along with this. that in just two weeks you would be gone, and a present reminder of the taint you left behind. was it the sudden fame you got that bothered you into doing this? had he done or said something to push you away? was there someone else who got your attention?
that made him even more upset, and jealous even. thinking of someone else making you happy when it wasn't him next to you. he envied the person if there was one, who got to hold your hand, smile at you, or dared to look into your eyes. those eyes he watched rolled back as he hit that spot that made you shiver breathless, the eyes that glistened when you laughed, eyes that he could get lost into, the eyes that never lied. even if the contract didn't state it like he envisioned, you were his.  
maybe it was a mistake to start a habit or create that barrier of awkwardness when you agreed to have what you had. but soon he realized just how attached he was to you, calling whenever he felt the need to be next to you, making unscheduled dates to see you even if it was for an hour or two, always having his arm around you no matter where you went. 
“it’s so beautiful here!” you said excitedly, with your eyes dazed and smile as you stared into the tulip field. you ushered him to hurry, immediately walking to the rows of flowers that layed ahead of you. he couldn’t stop watching, the way the sunset had a glow on you as you leaned down every now and then to smell the flowery scent. 
his hands engulfed your from behind, making you laugh loudly and turning to hug him thanking him quickly. It didnt feel fake, it felt real, the way his heart stopped everytime you spoke or laughed, when you pointed in the distance, when you told him a childhood story of how you became obsessed with gardens. 
“if i could buy this field, it would all be yours. i would do anything to see you this happy and excited every day… you’re so beautiful y/n…” he tucked your hair back and kissed you. it felt exactly how he planned the date, with butterflies and a sense of home. 
“i’ll have the terminated contract ready by next early next month. it will be signed by me and jude by then, you can drop them off at the office after you sign,” jonah said. the three of you said nothing, not a single peep or action. you jumped, the table shaking as the drinks almost spilled, when jude stood up and walked out and yelled out, “this is bullshit!”. 
your heart thumped in apprehension, knowing jude reacted the way you pictured it. your eyes followed him as he rapidly walked out, disappearing into the crowds of people by the intersection. your eyes stung, feeling the irritation and picturing just how red they would get, jonah squeezed your hand in comfort, “do you wanna talk about it? i know it’s not my place to ask, but i’m open to hear…” 
you hesitated to speak but you felt like you owed it to him at least, “i’ve accepted to move abroad for school and work, and i’m moving away soon. i thought about it closely enough and i just don't think physically and mentally could’ve managed this pr relationship with my daily life. i did it most off for a new chapter and start, to leave out the old and bring in the new.”
“well, first of all congratulations! i’m very proud of you for always being a tough fighter and always dedicated to your studies. it takes a warrior to do that especially when dealing with a contract like this, having to judge your every move and ignore the comments they say. like you said, if you felt the need to begin something new, go for it! you’re young and smart, and i know this move will be perfect,” jonah said encouraging. 
“and i’m glad you were able to think of the risks and sacrifices you would’ve faced if you continued it. the traveling, not being able to focus on studies or on the job, the fake smiles and interviews, plastering your face here and there for companies knowing you weren't happy. it doesn't make you selfish, quite frankly it makes you stronger, y/n,” jonah continued. 
“i know it isn't just that though... something deeper happened between you and jude. whatever it is i feel like you should tell him before it's too late. even a blind bird could see the tension, i think that is why it made your relationship even more believable… it didn't look like a pr stunt to me, especially with the hidden glances.”
you rapidly blinked the tears that threatened to fall down your hot cheeks, forcing yourself to smile and show no indication of how the move, jude, terminating the contract made you feel. blinking away at the image of jude’s face being hurt, you never wanted to hurt him, but the inconsistency the two of you had become insufferable. 
while what you and jude were doing made you feel alive, you wanted more. which scared him as his sole focus was football. it should've never happened, it was all a mistake, and you hated yourself now more because of it. for allowing yourself to get attached, to be consumed away by his words and kisses, for making you believe there was something more than stupid words on a sheet of paper. 
you sat quietly on the carpet, the paintbrush in your hand stroking the white canvas, with different lines and shapes, colors and patterns as you painted. jude had his tongue slightly peeking, a look of concentration as he focused on perfecting every trace of color on his canvas. 
“jude?” he replied with a hum, still focused on painting. 
it was a topic you thought about every time you had sex, or shared an unexpected kiss. would this probably ruin things maybe… but it would mean you tried. you sighed and nervously chuckled, your thumbs running on the pads of your fingers as you took a deep breath an asked, “after the contract ends, where do we go from here? us i mean…” 
his head slowly rose up… an eyebrow raised with a face of questioning. he didn’t anticipate you asking this, taken at back and chuckled a bit. your smile fell, feeling embarrassed as you had the urge to scratch the tip of your brow in nervousness. He cleared his throat and took a sip of water, his eyes bored into yours. 
“well, we end of course… the contract ends so do we, no? we could still see each other, when we feel the need to you know, but i don’t see why we would continue this? whatever you're trying to imply? remember this is just for public figures, for the two of us to benefit from it… its all an act. it's all fake…” 
you felt as your heart was taken out of you, empty and felt lied to. all an act? all fake? you knew it was a pr stunt, but you thought maybe he would feel the same for you after sharing constant nights and kisses together. Was there anything inside that maybe felt the slightest bit for you? with a painful smile you responded. 
“oh… right.”
“please don’t tell him jonah. not a single peep of what we spoke…” you pleaded, wiping away a tear that let out. jonah opened his mouth to deject but closed it, understanding you needed time to process what was going on in your life. he licked his lips and closed the folder, standing up and buttoning his blazer, “please don't make the mistake of leaving knowing there's more that needs to be said to him. you’ll regret it…”
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spottedcelebreity
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liked by: 349,908, and others
spottedcelebrity: after recent rumors of the couple splitting up, it seems like jude and y/n are together. what is your opinion on them? live show is present at 9pm so stay tuned.
comments:
user34: i still think its a pr stunt... theres no way they've been together so long.
username3: he looks so good!!! y/n is a lucky woman to have jude as her bf.
user50: the flowers, he is so perfect.
username21: fuck jude, i want to see y/n? ik my queen ate with her fit!!
username589: i swear, how are they still together? they weren't posting at all like they used to?
—————————
the limo ride was quiet, soft music playing in the background as you nervously bit the nail on your thumb. your leg bounced rapidly, your dark gown making flowy movements, attempting to distract yourself from the over 6ft tall man who sat beside you. before you could successfully terminate the contract, there was a club charity event downtown, which would be your last appearance together. 
you would’ve thought your “relationship” ended that day at the restaurant, but jonah still needed the two of you to post content, even if it was a small glimpse because technically you still had those two months left. you didn't want to get sued or be treated worse, for his and your sake you agreed. a month and a half filled with quiet silence, unspoken feelings, and forced smiles. 
you couldn’t bring yourself to tell jude you loved him, that for you jude meant more than a stupid contract, but he obviously wasn't ready for that. that didn't stop him from talking to other girls and making you feel less without knowing. he never was ready for more with you, focused on other people and things, and you really wanted to avoid another heartbreak before moving. the idea of never being enough for him hurt you, because after so long you sacrificed what you had in life to be with him. your friends, your family, your privacy. 
“i know we aren't on best terms but let’s keep it civil,” jude suddenly spoke up, making you nod carefully and look out at the window again. jude’s hand itched to interlock with yours, looking down to see you wearing the rings and bracelet he got for you adorned on your hand. 
he fisted his hand and knocked it on his thigh gently, a million thoughts raced his head as to whether the club dinner would go to plan and no one suspecting a thing. he was nervous as lately there have been so many headlines saying you had broken up. jude wasn’t stupid and he knew you were hiding something from him, he just didn't why you hid it from him. 
even though you had been nervous, it didn't stop you from reaching over and grabbing his larger palm and conjoining them together with yours. this was his day today, and the good persona in you wanted to assure he wouldn't be a mess thanks to your situation and feelings. your thumb softly stroked his skin, making jude smile inside, as butterflies appeared in his chest. 
“i know i don't say it enough, but thank you for everything you've done for me. the traveling, sacrifices, events, the fake smiles… everything we did together,” jude said knowing this would be his final chance to make things right. he could feel your hand loosen its grip, giving him big eyes as you heard him talk. “i am going to miss you… so much y/n.”
“me too jude,” you gave him a small smile, leaning up and pressing a faint kiss on his cheek to avoid leaving a print, but he wouldn't have cared either way, he loved when you did that. he wanted to relish every last second knowing it meant you'd never seen him again. he couldn't tell but you were a nervous wreck, you pushed your feelings aside once again to calm him, but deep down all you could feel was cold air and a pit in your stomach at his words. “i am going to miss you y/n… so much…”
you so badly wanted to run away in that moment, for allowing those words to mean more than they should. with a heavy heart and shaky hands you stepped out and walked out hand to hand inside the event center, jude glancing down every now and then to check in. your hand found home around his bicep, faking all the smiles and laughs when the media team asked both of you questions, complimenting him for his season so far, making sure to be the supportive girlfriend you have been so far. 
you immediately downed the glass of champagne as soon as the waiter offered, fanning your face because the room became hot. you said your hello’s to other wags there, taking pictures and talked with them as the night passed. you stayed close to where jude was as you watched him talk with his teammates and coaching staff. 
you checked your socials and immediately found yourself clicking on his story, a bereal picture taken of you when you were in the car when you had held his hand looking out and the small kiss print selfie of him. you giggled and hearted it, scrolling along some fan pictures and comments filled with relief as you two were still together. 
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spottedcelebrity
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liked by: 547,768, and others.
spottedcelebrity: y/n was seen wearing a glamorous dress, as she approached her boyfriend jude who waited outside their car with open arms. the couple seemed to have missed each other as their hug lasted a minute before sharing a quick kiss. what do we think about these two?
comments:
user39: same old same old.
username1: i think jude could do way better than her...
↪️user45: no way? i honestly think with his lifestyle SHE could do better than someone who runs for a ball every day.
user23: she looks so beautiful, shes so gorgeous always! 💕
username88: anyone hear the rumor about her moving away?👀
↪️ username3: WHAT
↪️ user43: me too! some wag gossip page posted it but we don't know if its true.
↪️ user73: if she moves away that means they break up...
↪️ spottedcelebrity: well that being said... stayed tuned for our 9pm live show...👀
user44: i'm so happy they're together! she's so supportive and such a good person to judge :(((
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even though the night was dedicated to him, you still had your fun. playing a game of poker and winning while sitting on jude’s lap and feeling him pepper kisses on your shoulder delicately, danced with the girls, and took picture with them at the booth. you clapped loudly as jude had been awarded a small trophy for the season, when he returned he kissed your lips softly, savouring the moment by leaving a last kiss on your forehead. 
your hands slightly scratched the back of his neck as you slowed danced together, it was so late but no one wanted to leave. your feet ached but you could care less as you wanted to hold him like you were, to appreciate him for the last time. words didn’t need to be said, the way you both held each other said enough. 
the sudden rush of sadness hit you, feeling your hands come to a halt, and a desire to be honest. it wouldn’t matter two weeks from now. two weeks from now you’d be living a different life than currently, attempting to forget every trace of jude. beginning a new chapter and living life to its fullest. 
“i haven’t been honest with you lately jude…”
jude swallowed hard, grabbing the back of your head gently and pulling you to see your watery eyes and biting your lip. “talk to me. say what you have to say. believe me, you’ll be doing us both a favor by saying what you have to say. no matter how much it hurts or feels… put me out my misery. i need to know why you're doing this. to us…”
his hand remained there, holding you in his place, with his jaw clenched, his soft glistening eyes begging you for answers. your chest flooded with warmth, “if i do say what's on my mind… i’m afraid i’ll do the biggest mistake and regret… i’ve tried in the past, and it always take a toll…” 
“i’m moving to germany,” you deadplanted. jude released a breath, stuck in place, he scowled and gave you an unsure side smile. “what do you mean moving to germany? what for? for how long?” he asked with a insisting tone, brows tucked in. he could handle a couple months top, but forever is something he couldn’t do. it was becoming too late and your words were becoming his biggest nightmare become reality. 
“jude, what is the most thing that scares you the most?” the interviewer asked. jude thought about the answer, tapping his bearded chin with his index finger, a taunting smile with playful eyes. you stifled a laugh, covering your mouth not wanting to seem disrespectful. 
it was you. to lose you. 
“probably my girlfriend y/n. it’s my biggest fear yet, to think of anything happening or her not being with me? yeah that’s what scares me the most,” he nodded as your mouth agape, you offered the camera a nervous smile. just when you assumed you couldn’t be more in love, this was the tip of the iceberg. 
“i’m moving for school, i’ve been accepted to their program and their internship that can help me later on in my career... i genuinely didn’t think i’d get accepted but i did, and i’m doing it…” you told. jude shook his head in surprise, blinking rapidly to see if this was actually happening. jude was attempting to comprehend, how you could’ve kept this secret so long away from him. 
everything was making sense to him. the random cancelations, when you didn’t text back, when you abruptly left the next morning after having sex, no more ‘good morning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, how you dodged his kisses even when it was the two of you alone. he saw all the signs but ignored them. it was his fault. for not being able to see how things were being portrayed. 
jude grabbed your hand, leading you out to a private hall in the venue, and then outside to a white balcony. you tried to keep up, but with your heels and urgency to run it became difficult. some of his teammates and wives gave you suspicious looks, making you give them a reassuring smile and mouth a “we’ll be right back.”
jude paced back and forth on the concrete, clearly stressing, you sat on the small bench by the door. “you were just gonna get up and leave? just like that? without saying anything to me?” he asked his voice cracking, walking over to you. “i mean you wouldn’t care? you said so yourself that day, that when the contract ends we end,” you quoted his words. 
jude felt guilty because he remembered he had said that. he could still see the painful smile on your face when he said those words. “i don’t get you jude. one day you want me, the next day you don’t? why would it matter to you if i left? all you’ve made me feel is like a shitty person. you use me one day, give me hope something could happen between us just for you to push me away. yeah, i sure do matter to you,” you sassed. 
“it does matter to me. you matter to me. do you think i wouldn't feel anything for you after this year and a half?” 
“well, i don’t know jude. what do you think? i’ve constantly shared what i feel when i’m around you, and you don’t even bother, so why should i? it hurts me, i feel embarrassed at the amount of times i tried, but it will never be enough for you. we’re in this pr mess because of you!” you yelled out. it wasn’t right to blame him, for everything including the pr, you just couldn't hold back on the anger you felt. after holding it for so long. 
“i’m sorry but you agreed to it remember? you had your reasons i had mine,” jude retorted. “this is why. this is what i was afraid of. the constant arguing, not being able to make time for each other, the trust issues. i’m scared of losing you even if it is due to the smallest thing. i hate thinking of you not being in my life because it hurts me. to lose you would hurt me.”
“you’re just saying that..”
“i’m not just saying that. it’s how i feel about us and for you. my whole life has been dedicated to football and quite frankly i don’t know if i’m enough for you. i don’t know how to do all this… i don’t have the experience, though it feels right being with you. with or without the contract. i hope you know what i’m getting to… you’re more than enough y/n.” 
something inside you want to not to believe him that it would be one of those moments again. but the way he sat here begging with his eyes for you not to go made you understand there was more to what he was saying. “all those times i pushed you away i thought i was doing what’s best but turns out it was the opposite. i’m tired of that, i just want to start fresh. i won’t hold you back from your dream, but please, try to understand me, ” jude pleaded. 
“i do understand you jude, it's just troubling to find a solution to this after the amount of times we pushed each other away,” you said with your voice cracking. “i just wanna be yours…” you confess tears sliding down your cheeks, unable to get rid of the pain and chill feeling you experienced. 
“you are mine baby… from the moment you walked into that office, when we signed those papers, after our date in the tulip fields, you’ve always been. i was just a coward to continue letting my overthinking get in the way of our love,” he pulled you onto his lap, stroking your hair back, “please don’t leave me here alone… i love you y/n.”
“you love me?” you stuttered tears no longer coming out watching jude with wide eyes to see if you heard properly. your heart hammered in your chest, jude felt like he could hear his own pulse beat rapidly, he was finally expressing how he felt and there was no holding back. he wanted to make sure you knew how he felt, that you were on the same page as him. 
“how could i not? you changed my soul from a dark place to where now i picture us in that field of tulips. the moment i met you i knew you were special, everything about you captivated me, your smile, laugh, eyes, your kindness. i know i’m not big on communication, but it feels like a relief to finally say this,” jude kisses your wrist thumb tracing over your knuckles as he continues. “i love you, and to have someone who loves me like you do, is so grateful…” 
“let’s get out of here jude…”
the bedroom door to his room opened quickly, jude placing you on the floor before going over and shutting it. he strides over again, grabbing your face not caring about your makeup, and leans down to capture your lips with his. your hands settled locked on his wrist, allowing your body to rest at his mercy. 
“it scared me to think you would go away and be alone. where i can’t protect you or hold you like this when i please,” jude whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “don’t ever do that to me again. i can’t afford to lose you baby, ever,” jude confessed tucking a stand of hair back, closing his eyes and allowing the moment to pass.  
“i promise i won’t jude. you have my word.” 
jude placed soft kisses all over your collarbone, his beard tickling you as his hand moved down your spine to slowly unzip your gown. your head felt cloudy as his eyes stared at the black lacy set of lingerie, roaming over every beauty mark and parts he wanted to see uncovered. “to think you were walking around with this underneath without me knowing…” jude tsked. 
jude kisses a small mole by your boob “every inch,” then down to a faint scar on your shoulder “of you…”, he ran his tongue along your skin, making you lose balance and squeeze your legs together, “is perfect. so perfect and beautiful.” 
“jude…” you said shakily, he hummed, his hands gripping your waist and bringing you to him. “don’t get shy with me baby… i’ve seen you like this many times. this feels different because we’ve now said i love you to each other…” jude kisses your lips fervently, groaning at your sweet taste once again. 
“do you have any idea how crazy you make me feel?” jude asked, ending the question with a ‘hmm’. “how long i waited to hear you say those words? how you consume my everyday thoughts…” jude groaned, and squeezed your ass making you grip his biceps tightly. “i want to make you all mine. not on a sheet of paper, here tonight…” 
“then what are we waiting for jude? i'm here…” you say breathlessly, “i’m all yours with or without that stupid contract.” 
the kiss was different from the one he gave you in the hall an hour ago. this kiss was filled with urgency and neediness, yet also with undeniying love. he felt you crumble for him, your hand on his cheek not wanting for him to pull away. he couldn’t pull away, addicted to how you tasted, how your lips bit his bottom one and watched it pull back. 
he walked you over to the bed, your legs spreading for him as your back hit the silk sheets. your back arched at the cold feeling and sensation, pulling away from the kiss and let out a small whine. jude kisses your jaw and knee, standing up with his lips slightly swollen and tainted with your lipstick, gulping at the sight of your body. 
he made sure you were watching, your eyes stuck on his big hands slowly remove his suit jacket. his fingers slowly unbuttoning the white shirt, revealing his bare torso, abs and happy trail that you wanted to touch. he swallowed a breath, looking at the way you thighs suddenly clenched closed as he removed his belt and dress pants. 
your chest raised up and down, your propped arms now itching to be closer to jude as he got on the bed with you. “can i touch you jude?” your voice low, jude’s eyes going wide before nodding. you crawled over to him, where he layed on his back just with his black calvins and his prominent big bulge. you bit the inside of your cheek, filling the empty spot where you would cuddle his right side. 
you kissed his lips teasingly, hearing a small groan escape his throat, trailing down to his neck sucking the spot beneath his pulse, down to his chest which rapidly began to rise at your actions. “is there anything you want me to do?” you ask shyly sitting up, feeling intimidated by his brown eyes that were darker than usual. “take this off for me…” at his deeper voice he helped you unclip the lace bra, groaning at the soft flesh of your boobs, erect nipples reaching his view.
“you have the most perfect body y/n…” 
your hand slowly traced down his happy trail, nails raking, observing the way his abs sucked in struggling to calm down. “relax jude…” you said tauntingly with a smirk, jude closed his eyes in desire as he felt your hand reach inside his boxers. he shivered feeling your erect nipples touch against the warm skin on his side, now fully hard as you tucked him out his boxers. 
you slowly stroked his shaft, hand barely being able to wrap around his complete girth. your thumb circled the tip, pre-cum oozing and adding a layer of lube. he felt hard and heavy against your palm, kissing his neck to add to the satisfaction he was feeling. his right hand squeezed your ass cheek, as his left palm clenched the sheets beneath him. 
the way you slowly yet squeezed him, was adding fire to the pit of his stomach. he couldn’t focus on anything, rolling his eyes back everytime you squeezed him or gave him doe eyes. “fuckkk y/n… you’re making me feel so good baby… keep doing that… just like that…” jude moaned, squeezing your ass cheek again moving around. 
you continued the rhythm, feeling your arousal spreading as you heard and felt the way you made him feel. his groans, the way his adam’s apple bobbed, his low dazy eyes watching your small hand stroke him. he was so close, you increase his high by beginning to stroke faster, “like this jude?” you asked knowing the answer. “just like that… oh shit… shit i’m so close y/n. you're gonna make me cum…” you kissed him, hiding the loud moans he released as he shook around almost trembling. 
you giggled hearing him chuckle deeply. “look at the mess i made because of you…” you hid in the crook of his neck feeling almost too shy and embarrassed to face him. you cleaned your hand with the rag, looking at jude when you licked a small stripe off your finger, jude immediately grabbed your hips and turned you over. 
he removed the lacy thong, bringing you down to where your sex met where he tucked himself back into the boxers still hard even after cumming. the black tie he wore was placed by the night desk. he knelt down, your pussy glistening and begging to be touched, eaten. he took his arm and tugged you closer, watching the way you anxiously waited for him to do something. 
you felt his tongue slowly lick from your entrance to your clit, arching your back in pleasure, a hand coming to play with your boob as you felt him dig in deeper. he knew exactly how you liked it, the places, the movements, he was enamored with how delicate and sensitive you were. “no… please jude…” you whined, looking down to see him smirking when he stopped his movements. 
“patience baby… relax for me y/n…” he kissed both your hip bones, the skin at the bottom of your belly button and down to your inner thighs, he was teasing you, drawing out your long-awaited orgasm as much as possible. “that’s not fair jude. i gave what you wanted, what you asked for…” you say out of breath. 
he placed a messy kiss on your clit, the bundle of nerves then sucked between his lips as he pulled away again. you moved around the bed, finding it hard to stay still as he continued to devour you, moaning and biting your lip. “if you keep moving around i won't let you cum…” he mocked, watching you rapidly shake your head no. 
“then do something about it…” you sassed back. he raised his brow, coming back up from between your legs, glancing to the black tie that was placed on the stand. “you would like that no? for me to tie you up?” he taunted, leaning over to grab the slim material. he asked you first and you agreed giving him your wrists, feeling as he tied them on the headboard. 
he returned to his original spot, his large hands smoothing your sides as you struggled to pull away. he gave you a messy kiss yearning for more, jude circled his tongue on your nipple sucking the bead as you arched your back, his tongue traced all the way down to your clit, where you let out a raw moan. 
he held you down on your hips, feeling as his tongue entered you, he was being messy, being able to hear the heavy breathing and slurping he did as jude continued eating you. the familiar heat in your stomach returned, if he kept up with this, you would be on the edge of releasing. “i’m s-s-so close jude… please don’t stop…” you sobbed, pulling your hands from the hold on the headboard.
the intrusion of his two fingers had you shivering in pleasure, moaning his name loudly. you tugged on the fabric, jude pumping in and out as he took control again. He licked your clit teasingly, going up and down and side to side. “oh my god,” you moaned in relief as your orgasm hit you, your face tucking to your arm as your legs shook, jude still pumping and licking. 
he propped back up, sucking the juices from his fingers, watching how your chest rose heavily trying to calm down from your high. jude undid the tie, leaving one wrist still wrapped with it, he kissed you sweetly hearing a hum of delight from you, “doing so good for me y/n… turn to your side for me,” he asked and you obliged. 
you laid on your side, giving jude your free wrist back to him where he tied them back up securely. you heard him move around the room, guessing he was probably fully undressing himself. he returned back, hovering over you as his tip poked your coated walls… you bit your lip in anticipation. 
jude entered you, let out a small gasp from your lips as your nails dug into your palms feeling him thrust deeper into you. you could feel all of him, how hard he was, how desperate he was, how big he was, he fully stretched you out and you loved the feeling. you couldn’t hold back the whines and whimpers you let out, the position you were in allowed you to feel everything, as he continued to thrust into you. 
“not so soon y/n…” he pulled back, he could feel your walls clamp down on him, squeezing the life out knowing you were approaching your second orgasm. “no! no, not again please jude…” you pleaded for him to make you cum, he gently placed you on your back, hands tied behind you now. he spread your legs open, leaning down as he thrusts into you again, your head going to the side moaning, “jude, you feel so big… so good…”
“oh shit, shit shit…” jude grunted, kissing your neck and leaving a small suckle behind, his hands wanting to give up and crash his body on top of you. the way he was manhandling you had you close to seeing stars and cloud nine. his thrusts came to a halt, grabbing you gently to pull you up and into his chest. he undid the complete tie, your hands finding home around his neck. 
jude extended his legs, not caring if he was on the opposite side of the bed. the pillows were on the floor, the sheets scrambled all over, and clothes scattered all over the room. “i didn't hurt you did i?” he gently grabbed your wrists, placing soft kisses on them, “no jude.. you didn’t.”
your legs digged into the sheets, a hand on his shoulder as the other one brought his face to yours, leaving no space between as you kissed him. his tongue entered your mouth, being able to still taste the champagne and sweet taint on you. he leaned his forehead on yours, grabbing your hips, “i love you.”
your chest warmed again hearing him confess his underlying love for you, “and i love you.”
you reached between the space, bringing his cock to your entrance feeling him stretch you out again as you sat on him completely. you lifted your hips up and then brought them back down, “shit baby… you feel so tight like this,” jude groaned grabbing and pulling you closer as you balanced yourself by holding his broad shoulders. 
“Jude…” you murmured throwing your head back in pleasure struggling almost to take him as a whole, feeling the way he kissed your boob and squeezed it with his hand. you were chasing that second orgasm for the two of you, rocking your hips up and down and back and forth, like an expert of course. 
your nails raked down his back and chest, as you felt get closer and closer, jude following behind. you cry out in pleasure, jude gripping your ass as you continued to bounce on him. it was a sight for him, to watch you like he was, to see your angelic face, eyes closed, brows pulled in and lips were still swollen from the makeout session before. “such a good girl for me,” jude praised. 
jude felt so lucky, so lucky he helped you move against his cock, wanting to feel your walls clench even tighter as you reached your orgasm, not being able to get enough of you. “i’m gonna cum y/n…” jude warned gripping your waist and feeling the haze inside him beginning to spread around as you whimpered, tears stroking your cheeks. 
“oh fuck, jude i’m cum-” you couldn't finish your sentence as your wave of orgasm spread through your whole body. jude cummed inside you, the ropes of his cum feeling hot as they spread all over your walls, down to his shaft. your ears ringed, head tucked into his neck as you caught your breath. his breathing matched yours, unable to shake off the lingering post-orgasm. 
with your closed eyes, jude brought your lips to his, kissing them gently making you smile at the softness from him. jude never left you unattended, he always made sure you were left clean and comfortable, after-sex cuddles were his favorite, and right now that's all he craved for. 
“thank you jude,” you say, not only thanking him for this but also for being the person you dreamed of being with. despite what you had gone through with him, that didn't matter as a new chapter of your life would start here, forgetting every past detail to move forward. jude couldn't stop kissing anywhere, your neck, cheeks, tip of nose, jaw, and shoulders, he wanted you to feel loved. loved by him. only him. 
“never ever leave my side okay? i need you here with me at all times… my girl, my only girl only, y/n.”
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spottedcelebrity
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liked by: 1,090,222, and others.
spottedcelebrity: steamy kiss shared with our favorite couple just right outside by his dinner! seems like this two couldn't wait to get the party started 😉👀
comments:
user2: OH?
username29: CHAT IS THIS REAL?
username194: the way he grabs her, oh lord end me now.
user3984: this will be the reason of my death.
username594: so not approprite? in public what the hell?
↪️ user11: oh shut up. let them live their lives.
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ynusername added to their insta stories!
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judebellingham posted on their feed!
judebellingham
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liked by: ynusername, gioreyna, vinijr, camavinga, jobebellingham, fedevalverde, brahim, joselu, 3,540,999 others.
judebellingham: complete along side her 🤍
comments:
user93: they saw the pictures didn't they...
ynusername: love you handsome 🤍
↪️ judebellingham: love you more princess 🤍🤍
↪️ username873: HE CALLED HER PRINCESS OMG 💔
gioreyna: my bro, miss you hella ❤️
jobebellingham: ❤️
username: we saw what ya'll did...
user67: he is so bf coded.
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