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boundinparchment · 1 year

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Dream a Little Dream of Me - XXXVI

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Lore speculation, interpretations, etc. AO3

At this hour, the moon was high, cresting over the edges of the tree that sheltered the port, bright and full. You could just see it through the foliage when you looked up, pausing before you crossed the bridge outside of the hotel. Over the edge, the docks and cranes came into view, and beyond them, the vast sea.

The air was sticky. It was worse this far south, so close to the sea, and the breeze didn’t so much relieve the humidity as it did remind you of it every time it kissed your cheeks and bare arms.

You saw the ship due to set out tomorrow morning, ready to be loaded with cargo and your colleagues.

But not you, not now.

There was no point in boarding a ship to continue on a tour you could not participate in.

A flood of tears threatened to choke you, the neck of your cello tight in your hand. Your faithful partner, broken beyond repair, never to tremble beneath your touch again.

All that awaited aboard that ship was another nation and more performances, more lies that the nation of Fontaine was not struggling. There was no pollution, no poverty, no sickness, no deicide. Your patron had been right back when you gave your notice but anything had been better than being a songbird. And it was propaganda with people who didn’t think twice about numbing their soulmate bond, who had both feet firmly planted in reality, sure of their existence and their purpose.

You’d once been sure, too.

“Don’t tell me you used your instrument as a weapon.”

That familiar timber had such a cold edge to it, steel in a winter storm, as metal tapped wood in a rhythm you could recognize anywhere.

You turned, grip on the broken cello neck tightening in hopes to control the tremble through your limbs.

For a moment, you were thrown back into the House of Daena. Sharp boots, white coat, ornamentation that seemed impractical for lab work but denoted power no one dared question. Beak-like mask, an earring with an ethereal glow. His arms were crossed and a slight frown tugged at his lips, as though inconvenienced by the mere idea of running into you.

The hotel was full of Fatui.

Of course.

After all, Zandik had said Omega was working with the Akademiya and what you saw of the lab reinforced that even further. What had the Segment said? A man-made god?

Fontaine had its faults, certainly, but they never dared try to throw off the yoke of Celestia so blatantly.

It stood to reason, then, that any public appearance of the Harbinger would be the Segment.

Your legs carried you across the distance, fury gripping you as you shoved the broken cello neck into the Segment’s throat above his harness ring.

“Was this your doing?” you growled.

Through the wood, you could feel the vibration of his amused chuckle. Sharp teeth gleamed at you.

“You hate me almost as much as he hates himself. I am impressed.”

You pushed the wood further into the Segment’s neck, reminding yourself that as much as the resistance felt flesh-like, that he was far from human.

“You’ve given me every reason.”

“I haven’t, actually. I’m not the one who destroyed your precious instrument. But I am going to be the one to ensure that everything falls back into place.”

No , you think, you won’t be.

You closed your eyes, the port before you disappearing for a moment as the Cryo-encased flower came to mind instead. A dream you’d wanted for so long, finally becoming reality, the tangibility of limbs brushing, air between you heavy with both humidity and potential. For a moment, red eyes widened as your vision went black, and hands traced every single callous in an attempt to memorize your very existence.

“You’ve done more than enough,” you said, jaw tight.

Omega drew in a deep breath, more for effect than need you realized, and let out an impatient huff through his nose.

“The experiment was intended to understand if Zandik’s soulmate extended beyond himself. Beyond the Prime origin point of us all. You weren’t supposed to lose the ability to dream.”

The Segment sounded apologetic, guilty even. A fiery knot tugged at your gut. He felt guilty over that but nothing else?

“I deserve far more than Zandik does,” Omega drawled. “And therefore I was the most qualified candidate for the experiment. That you ended up in Sumeru when I did, when larger plans were falling into place was, truthfully, unexpected. I couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste.”

“Fuck you.”

You pushed him away with the cello neck, reveling in the irritated mark and small dents you left in his skin. Omega reached a hand up and rubbed the spot, mouth pulled into a grin that didn’t need words to accompany it.

“Both of you go right for the jugular. Perhaps you are soulmates after all.”

“He…”

“Self-hatred is a powerful thing, Noor 'eini.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Omega cracked his neck before he took one step, and then another, further away from the hotel doors to circle the perimeter. To circle you .

“Your precious Zandik fractured himself twenty-four times. Eleven of them are deceased. I am the sole survivor of his later adult years. The closest to his present self. One does not segment their memories and their very being without wanting to be rid of said memories. After all, we are the culmination of our experiences, our loved ones, universes unto ourselves. You should see the hatred Zandik gives me for playing with you. It’s as much inward as it is outward. You may not see it but that’s because he thinks he’s hidden it, buried like the machinery he so adores.”

You stepped back when Omega bent a little, his face close to yours. He cocked his head, locks of hair falling softly to frame his face as the earring pressed against his neck a little.

“Haven’t you ever wondered about the wind in the dreams?”

The wind?

Your face contorted in confusion and you no longer cared if the Segment could read you like a book. You tried to recall the dreams that felt so far away now, cloudy and intangible. The first dream after you met in person, you swore you heard multiple voices as the wind howled through mountains and trees, like voices of an audience. And the leaves, in that final dream as you stroked his head in your lap and listened to him explain the Ruin Golem’s inner workings.

Leaves didn’t whisper.

Not like that.

“I know what must be done,” Omega whispered, his words ghosting over your nose, your cheeks. “When the time comes, you too must play your part.”

“I’m not humoring this anymore.”

You turned, adjusting your grip on your belongings as you strode away, determined to put as much distance between you and the Segment as possible. Your anger was no longer a pot boiling over but instead a dulled blade, having carved off the edge of your grief for the briefest of moments. By now, you knew better than to trust the Segment at his word, to consider anything longer than necessary.

With the idea in your mind though, the memories were more crisp than what the others, you could only conclude meant they were true moments between you. That was something, you supposed.

But what were you meant to do with that information? What good did that do when you…

You had no plan.

No job. No instrument.

Nothing.

You trekked down spiral after spiral, the stone underfoot comforting in its steadiness. One foot in front of the other.

Life was, in a way, like sight-reading. You knew there were notes ahead of where you were, waiting to be played, but you couldn’t get to them until you focused on the immediate ones.

Leaving without any kind of connection to your soulmate, especially given his position, was dangerous, stupid even. All it would take was being at the wrong place at the wrong time with the right person. The Doctor would be none the wiser until it was too late and all the worse because you had no means to contact him. Not in a way that protected either of you and potentially revealed everything. You survived on that connection, thrived on it, and then to not have it…

Did that even make you soulmates anymore?

What were you to one another, now, if you could not…

You closed your eyes, the port before you disappearing for a moment as the Cryo flower came to mind again. A promise, a willingness to fix, but what if there was nothing to fix? If this was what was destined, in the end?

There must be more, you thought to yourself. More to the world than passively traveling, being subject to the whims of those around you. More to working tirelessly on compositions that would never see the light of day or be played by anyone other than yourself. It was clear to you that the world moved on in your short absence but where did that leave you?

A question for another time when you finally saw him again. By quitting, you’d made up your mind on some things already. That sense of relief didn’t extend far, though, and at the idea of what came next, your chest squeezed uncomfortably.

You continued further into the harbor, dipping underneath a large root and behind the tavern, and out towards the wooden piers to the lighthouse. Sumeru had no proper beach, at least not out this way, but the shoals would suffice for now. It was enough to be away from the cacophony of the hotel and the tavern, far from Omega, alone with your thoughts and the rhythmic splash of the tide.

You’d always felt an odd connection to the ocean and its beaches despite being a Geo user and mostly kept from the coast for most of your formative years. The reliable rocking of waves and the sheer natural force had been something of an inspiration, a comfort, when all else failed.

There was, however, already someone here. You paused on the edge of the pier, tense from both Omega’s prodding and your own anxiety, blinking once as though it would clear your vision.

You had been under the impression that you wouldn’t see him properly until the morning you were set to depart.

Once again, Zandik’s coat was absent, but so was his cravat. The collar of his shirt was open, exposing the full column of his neck and a teasing view of his collarbone. The harness only served to draw your eye precisely where it pressed against his bare skin before it dipped over his shirt to wrap around him. His sleeves, too, were carefully folded up to his elbows, exposing well-defined muscle. Leather gloves still covered his hands, his mask still obscuring his face, barriers between him and the world.

It was still cloyingly humid and you could see that even he wasn’t immune to the weather here. But part of you couldn’t help but wonder if, perhaps, he was trying to help you visually differentiate between himself and Omega. Attempting to be the Zandik you knew only in a separate world, dreams away from reality.

You had spent an eternity tracing a collarbone that wasn’t his but your fingers twitched nonetheless, a yearning that came from deep within your bones for late night conversations that held no pretense. Such moments were stolen from you and as you watched him approach, you let your eyes roam over the shadows that dipped across his arms and the reflection of light on the ring of his harness. You used to admire him in dreams, when you could; now, you told yourself,you deserved to, and you were determined to not have everything tainted by a shadow of himself.

A shadow that he was, no doubt, keeping an eye on from a distance.

“And here I thought you’d be asleep,” Zandik quipped. “I might have little use for it but that doesn’t mean…”

His masked face fell to your hand and the broken cello neck. You saw his shoulders rise and then slowly fall with a breath, one hand reaching up for his mask as the other extended towards you in silent request.

“Omega stole whatever quip you want to say,” you muttered. “There’s no fixing it.”

The tears that once felt as if they would flood you were far out of reach now. Stolen from you just as much as your instrument, as your memories were. Crying felt like a waste of energy.

Zandik turned the neck over in his hands. You knew all of the scratches by heart that were glinting in the moonlight, the pegbox still shiny with polish.

Without ceremony, you cast your bag aside and removed your footwear and accompanying garments to stand calf-deep in the water. The tide was barely cooler than the air and you sat down, feet in the water, playing with the sand between your toes.

“Why must I continue to pay a price that I cannot, Zandik?” you asked. “Is this normal?”

His red eyes were too occupied with the wood in his hands, now held at eye-level and examined like a spyglass.

“Some pairs endure more trials and tribulations than others, based on the research I’ve done over the years. How did this happen? The break is clean, with little signs of stress fractures.”

“Something about the matra looking for…capsules? I wasn’t really listening, truthfully.”

You shifted your feet in the wet sand.

If you were less skeptical, less aware of the world, you would have thought it the truth right from the start. And maybe it was. By now, however, you knew that some things were, in fact, exactly what they seemed. Others may have had damaged instruments but somehow, you doubted theirs were as broken.

An old friend, gone.

“I am tired of everything I own being taken away from me. My life played with as though it were a toy. Just when I think I’m carving my own path…”

You tore your gaze away from the glowing harbor and the cleaved tree, Zandik’s attention no longer on the hand-carved peg board but on you. His lips parted and his tongue brushed his lower lip, as if to speak, before he seemed to think better of it. He was usually so free with his thoughts, especially on this; he hardly, if ever, hesitated to correct you.

“I can take whatever it is you want to say, Zandik.”

He’d spent many dreams over the years explaining his view of the world, of the Archons and Celestia’s usurpation. This exact situation is what he would tear apart to demonstrate just how wrong it was for a higher being to exist. If mortals supposedly had something of free will but the Gods always intervened, be it with a Vision or a soulmate or both, then how was that true free will? So many thought they were making their own way but in reality, one was only following the path that the stars laid out for them.

But fate, he speculated, could be changed. The stars were not, in fact, the true stars at all.

Such conversations were so far away, though, that they couldn’t easily come to mind other than vague recollections.

“The words on my tongue aren’t comforting,” he finally replied. “You are mourning an old friend. My thoughts can wait.”

You swallowed as he brought his attention back to the pegs, fingers loosening and tightening the knobs, before he handed it back to you.

Everyone else assumed you would be fine, that you could pick up right where you left off (yourself included). Ever since you’d awakened, despite your outbursts, he’d given you the grace to not be okay. In hindsight, he’d always done that after both of you learned how far boundaries could be pushed until the other shut the conversation down. The conversations from days earlier came to mind. If he deemed something not conducive, not helpful , then he would not waste his energy nor time on it.

That had to count for something.

“I once stood on a beach one morning after a particularly…bad evening,” you said. “I couldn’t sit, which means I couldn’t practice, couldn’t play. I made a promise to myself…what I can only assume the Geo Archon took to be a contract, to let no one ever stand between me and what I wanted out of life. No one would hold me back, abuse me, keep me from what I deserved . I should have included myself in that promise.”

You brushed your hand over your Vision before you held the broken cello neck between your hands and wrung it like a wet cloth. When you caught Zandik’s eyes flick towards you when you turned your head slightly in his direction, you continued.

“I believe that was one memory untouched,” he said, his hands falling slightly to direct his attention onto you. “You’d received something from the orchestra?”

“My planning paid off and I’d made a decision without hesitation to leave everything behind. You were right. That night in the performance hall. I have been holding myself back.”

He didn’t speak, instead raising an eyebrow but not daring to revel in hearing you profess that he was correct. Not yet, at any rate.

“I’ve been complacent, holding myself back for the sake of a group that does not see me as I see myself. The Segment did that too in the dreams; I never made progress on my compositions, I played but it was as though I did it out of habit, not desire…everything that happened in those dreams was, I’ve come to realize, not a fabrication on his part, but an exaggeration of it. I thought it was him but I’ve been doing it to myself.”

Omega’s words from earlier echoed in your mind. If Zandik’s own problems made their way into your shared dreamspace, why wouldn’t yours have been accessible, ripe for the picking?

“The second I saw my cello shattered in its case, I didn’t even have to think about quitting. I have no plan beyond that. Without a way to contact you, we are forced to use methods that would be discovered at any time. Why not just…bypass them entirely and try—”

Zandik’s expression darkened and he turned in full to face you.

“Do you understand the gravity of such a consideration?”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“I don’t need to. Snezhnaya is not Fontaine. That you know and can learn how to navigate social structures is one matter that never gave me cause for concern. But it is a nation that is governed by a house of wolves, by an Archon who holds no love for her people and who believes that only those who survive the worst are worthy of such blessing.”

He’s thought this through, you realized. He’d already entertained this very idea, hadn’t he? Realistically, not only did it make sense to keep what he considered to be a vulnerability close to him, she could learn from him.

Your lack of combat abilities was a sore spot and one he was eager to correct himself. You both used the same weapon, after all.

Soulmate bonds didn’t have to be romantic, either, you told yourself, a well of panic and thrill rising as your thoughts wandered to his exposed neck and collarbone, the teasing promise of muscle beneath his shirt. You weren’t sure how to even consider such notions, not now, not after Omega.

And the world had already moved on without you. You had just been another body in a chair, who played well and composed exceptional pieces.

Remaining with him was the only viable option you could think of.

And if he’d already played with all of these possibilities, he knew that as well.

He was testing you, then; he wanted to know if you had been as thorough as he was.

“I have nothing left, Zandik. Perhaps this idea is just following that stupid adage of ‘Don’t put your eggs in one basket’ but I literally only have one basket. Am I supposed to go about the rest of my existence knowing that, if we don’t try now, we may never get this chance again?”

“This decision shouldn’t be made in a state of emotional anguish, no matter how correct your decision is.”

He punctuated the sentence with your name and it stilled you, your legs suddenly no longer swayed by the tide but instead anchored in the sand.

“We are discussing a choice that cannot be taken back. You cannot allow your heart to lead you on such matters. It is how, in the attempt to avoid the truth, one comes face to face with the inevitable.”

“What is that truth?”

“That the world demands a price from us all and that price is nothing but conflict and suffering. You know nothing of the true nature of the world and the world in which I inhabit.”

Have I not paid my dues? You wanted to cry out.

“Then tell me about it! You’re the one who has kept the truth from me and I must pull every kernel of information like a dentist pulling teeth, Zandik. Do you really think you’re protecting me?! Do you think that not telling me about your Segments and who you are saved me, after what I’ve seen and endured?!”

Your volume scared a nearby crab that scuttled away into the sand, eager to be away from you both. Your soulmate’s boots pierced the tide to stand next to you, his expression as much of a mask as the accessory he held in his hand.

“When a stranger from the far north came to me in the deep reaches of the desert, I too reached a similar point,” Zandik murmured. “Driven out of my home, out of the Akademiya, I tried to help those suffering from a disease that has been around for centuries, a remnant of a King’s destructive decision. And even then, despite the progress of my patients, my methods were questionable, unethical for even the strongest of stomachs. Results didn’t matter if the patients suffered for them.”

Zandik shuffled his mask to his right hand as his left reached up to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes were narrow as they watched you, as he spoke, as his words ghosted over your lips.

“I, too, had nothing left and everything to gain. I was promised resources, access to machinery and equipment without anyone holding me back to arbitrary rules that stifled progress. In exchange for my position, I was given the burden of the truth of this world. Or rather, it was confirmed for me.”

His thumb brushed your lower lip before he let go of your chin to brush stray hair out of your face. His middle finger lingered on your ear.

“All of my research and hypotheses and speculation…all of it was true . But I had suffered greatly to get there. As must we all, in the end, to get what we want. Choosing to come with me will not be the end of anything, if that is what you expect.”

Zandik pulled away from you, as though he’d touched something painful, his arm falling limply to his side as he turned his head away from you.

How odd. Only days ago, he seemed almost eager to solve this connection between you, to correct whatever his Segment had done. Wouldn’t he want you with him? Surely that would make everything more manageable?

Or was this part of the self-hatred that Omega brought up, you wondered. Not that you wanted to put stock in the Segment’s words, of course. But he was, in part, Zandik. A grain of truth was still a truth.

You gazed up at the moon as its light kissed the rustling leaves and soaring branches of Port Ormos’ shelter, the water shimmering with a rippled reflection of the land, an imperfect mirror. Warm light glowed in the distance, like fireflies resting. Water lapped at your skin, warm and forgiving, every pull of the tide only serving to root you further in place.

Unconsciously, you reached out a hand and took his free one, his fingers curling around yours almost instinctively.

“Who said I wanted anything to end, Zandik?”

His brow twitched and a flicker of doubt crossed his face as he looked at you; he was not a man who believed in anything until he saw it with his own eyes.

You squeezed his hand slightly.

It was not until you’d turned back to look upon Port Ormos one more time that you felt fingers squeeze yours back once, just once, at the same time as your heart skipped a beat.

#dottore #il dottore #soulmate au #fic: dream a little dream of me #female reader #il dottore x female reader #dottore x female reader #dottore/female reader #il dottore/female reader #long chapter #long fic #slow burn #we are finally getting somewhere i promise #this is over 4k words someone kill me

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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months

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4k celebration

congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.

i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴

we made up.

LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration

in which you can never just bite your tongue

eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3

songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink

2.6k words

you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.

after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.

maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?

it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.

you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.

“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.

“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.

it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.

“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.

“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.

“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.

there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.

turns out, you have to apologise.

you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.

so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.

but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.

“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.

“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.

“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.

“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.

“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.

the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.

you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.

“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.

“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.

your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.

“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.

“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.

“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.

truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.

as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.

“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.

“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.

“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.

“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.

“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.

an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.

“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.

his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.

once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.

“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.

“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.

“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.

“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”

“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.

he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.

“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.

lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.

“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.

“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.

“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”

with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.

“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.

sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.

“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.

“learned your lesson?”

“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.

you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.

still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.

“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.

“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.

you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.

“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.

you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.

“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.

“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.

he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.

“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”

you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.

“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.

“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.

those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.

“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.

you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.

you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.

two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.

when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.

“we made up.”

oof

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nr1chaedickrider · 25 days

Text

I can only be me when i'm by your side - i'm not a monster.

As time passes recovering, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.

cw: fluff, smut, angst, petnames, virgin!reader, sweet girl!jihyo, popular but not so popular!jihyo, basketball player!jihyo, both are 18 but they are students, mentions of death, drunk confessions, they fall in love pretty fast, lwk rushed, lmk if there is more ^_^, ~ 4k words

if you're thinking "hm! i read this fic somewhere... yes! its my heeseung fic from my bg blog @adorwoo ! which i wanted to use for jihyo !^_^ hope you enjoy anyway.

men dni.

It's not your fault.

It's not your...

Is it really?

The rain beats down on your black umbrella, the lines from Dahyun's letter playing over and over in your head. It feels like you're trapped in a vicious cycle, not being able to think of anything else.

But why?

Why didn't she tell you?

Were all those conversations about the mutual trust between you two a lie? Was it just talk to keep you from worrying?

If someone had told you a week ago that you had to be at her funeral because she had killed herself, you would have laughed at that person. Dahyun was always the happiest person you've ever met.

Even if you had been told that a day ago, you wouldn't have believed it. Because in theory, it's the stupidest thing you've ever heard.

In his letter, she wrote about how much she loved you, how she enjoyed every minute and every moment with you, how it's not your fault that she's not here anymore.

She's probably right, not just probably. She's right, and you know it. But you can't stop blaming yourself. Someone has to take the blame. Someone is responsible.

You could have helped her.

You should have helped her.

Tears run down your cheeks as you stare at her grave. Her family, her friends, they are all gone. You stand here alone, not daring to leave.

'Kim Dahyun

Born on may 28, 1998.

A friend, daughter and lover.

She will continue to live in our souls.'

It feels like your eyes are glued to the writing, you can't look away. You try to regulate your breathing, taking a deep breath.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you place the white rose next to the gravestone.

You take one last look at her grave before turning and slowly walking away.

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you all."

You look at the students in front of you, all of them giving you strange looks. Of course, you are a new student, but you feel uncomfortable under their gaze. The teacher smiles at you and tells you where to sit, next to a girl called Mina.

It's as if everyone has forgotten about you again as the teacher starts teaching. You sit down next to Mina and she smiles at you.

"Nice to meet you," she whispers. You smile at her.

You can't talk to her for long because she starts taking notes for the lesson. You look around at the faces of the others. It actually looks like a normal class, but your eyes land on a girl.

She looks shorter than you, her hair is brown as well as her eyes. She's wearing a white t-shirt.

"Have you laid your eye on someone?" asks Mina, laughing a little.

"No!" you answer, a little too loudly, and you put your head on the table as a few people look at you. "I was just looking at her," you whisper.

"Yeah yeah... that's what they all say" she says.

You slowly lose yourself in your thoughts as memories of Dahyun come flooding back.

Should you even look at other girls? Is it bad?

Would Dahyun hate you for trying to find love again?

It's been more than two months since she died, but you can't stop thinking about her.

Maybe it's normal, your behavior. Your overthinking of everything, maybe you're not the only person who feels this way? Maybe there is someone else who is just as lost in their thoughts as you are.

Maybe you are simply not alone.

However, your thoughts are interrupted by the bell and Mina.

"I can show you a few things here at school if you want," she suggests, and you gratefully accept her help.

You spend the whole lunch break running after her while she shows you around.

"Why did you change schools anyway? Your old one is a pretty well-known one, and much better than here," she asks, before taking a bite of her sandwich.

The question makes you wonder, and you think about whether you should just lie to her and say that you moved, or that you were somehow bullied at your school - but somehow it feels wrong. Because you neither moved nor were you bullied. No, everything was actually fine.

Actually,

Somehow everything changed after her death.

Your classmates started looking at you funny, and you still don't know whether they are looks of pity or looks of condemnation because they blame you.

"I don't know" is your answer, and somehow it's true. Sometimes you really have no idea why you changed schools, but Mina doesn't need to know the whole truth.

She just nods in response as she continues to eat.

"The girl you were looking at in English, her name is Jihyo by the way" she says.

What?

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.

"Because you were staring at her a lot - you looked really interested in her" she replies with a little grin.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I wasn't staring at her..." you laugh a little, but can't hide your despair. Why does she think you're interested in her?

"Watch out!" someone shouts, but before you can react, a basketball hits you.

You fall to the floor, your head hurts and you feel slightly dizzy as you slowly open your eyes.

The girl from your English class is kneeling on the floor in front of you, looking at you, trying to see if you're okay.

It's like a cliché high school movie.

"Are you okay?" she asks, a couple of other girls come over, but she just tells them to get something to cool off and shoos them away.

The things that can happen when you want to visit the gym...

You nod slowly, after a few blinks your vision is no longer blurry.

Another girl comes back and hands Jihyo a cold pack.

"Here, take this," she says and puts it in your hand, her hand on your shoulder to support you.

You hold it to your head, biting the inside of your cheek slightly from the cold.

Before she can say anything else, she is called by his coach, at the same moment Mina comes to you.

"I was looking for you," she says and helps you up.

You watch Jihyo jogging across the field before you leave the gym.

New week, new luck?

Every day you tried desperately to talk to Jihyo somehow, but suddenly she was always gone after class and you were never put in a group together.

But it looks like luck is on your side for once.

"Here's the list of groups, you have to give a presentation in pairs on a play of your choice," your English teacher announces.

You look at the picture projected on the wall.

Chaeyoung and Mina,

Sana and Miyeon,

Jihyo and Y/n,

Jeongyeon and...

Wait, what?

You read the list again and once more you see your name and Jihyo's name next to each other.

"Jihyo and Y/n," you say quietly.

"Are you happy?" Mina asks teasingly with a grin on her lips.

"Are you happy that you have to work with Chaeyoung?" you ask back - Mina doesn't answer.

Before your teacher can give you any more homework for the break, the school bell rings and everyone rushes out of the classroom.

You walk (or rather, run) to Jihyo who is packing her things away.

"Hey, I was wondering when we should meet," you say, and she looks up at you and smiles. You feel your cheeks turning red.

She puts on his backpack and stands up.

"How about Friday afternoon? My place?" she suggests and you nod.

She takes a pen from her pocket, "Give me your hand," she says, you are confused but do it anyway.

She opens the pen with her mouth, the cap between her teeth as she gently writes on your hand.

Her phone number.

It feels like she's giving you an autograph.

"Text me and I'll send you my address," she says, and before you can answer, she walks out of the room.

You look down at your hand and see a little smiley face next to her number.

You can't help but giggle as you look at it.

You stare at your phone - up to her front door and back down to your phone.

You are 10 minutes early and don't dare to ring the doorbell.

"You know you can just ring the bell?" someone asks you, you look up and see Jihyo smiling at you.

"I'm early, that's why-"

"Not a problem," she interrupts you.

She lets you in and closes the door behind her.

Her house is beautiful, modern and yet somehow old-fashioned.

"My parents aren't here, so I thought we could study in the living room," she says, and you nod, leaning your backpack against the table.

"Water?" she asks and you take it gratefully.

You drink a little before she sits down across from you.

You both leaf through the books, take notes, talk briefly about certain passages, but otherwise no one says anything.

Jihyo decides to break the awkward atmosphere.

"I wanted to apologize again, for the basketball," she says, and you laugh a little.

"You don't have to apologize, things like that can happen," you reply.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asks, and instead of answering, you are completely silent, thinking.

Memories of Dahyun come back while Jihyo looks at you and waits for your answer.

"Yes, I did, but she died a few months ago," you answer.

She nods slightly, "Can I ask how he died?" she asks in a quiet, polite tone, as if she really wants to make sure that she's asking something that doesn't hurt you in any way.

"Suicide," you say, short and meager, without many details (whether you know many details at all is another question).

She looks at you with a supportive look, one that makes you feel like she's really listening and that she really understands you.

Maybe she understands you even more than you think?

She puts her hand on yours with a slight smile.

"Thank you for confiding in me," she says, your cheeks slightly flushed, hers too.

You both look at each other for a moment before she lets go and you both go back to work.

If only the work had gone on for longer.

After the one meeting, you saw her every day of the vacation. Always with the excuse that you supposedly "need to add something" (does going to the movies together add something to your project?).

It's been more than a week since you first met.

"You're in love," Mina says as she parks her car in front of Jihyo's house.

"I-"

"Don't even try to find an excuse, it's all good" she replies with a small grin.

You both get out of the car and walk to her house, the music so loud you can hear it several meters away.

How Jihyo, who is slightly drunk, hears the doorbell is also a mystery to you.

"Hey guys!" she greets you, she shakes Mina's hand and gives her a kind of high five, she gives you a hug.

You smile at her as the three of you walk into the living room.

"I'm going to Chaeyoung," Mina whispers, or rather shouts, in your ear before disappearing.

"Y/n, do you want to play a drinking game with us?" asks Jihyo, you nod.

Maybe it was a stupid decision.

Jihyo and her friends (of whom you only know Jeongyeon) only understand drinking games to mean taking shots and asking stupid questions.

Either answer - or drink.

You always chose the second option.

After about 7 questions (maybe more, maybe less - you lost count of that pretty fast) you get up and say that you need some fresh air.

Since you've been to her house several times, you know where the upstairs balcony is.

It's quite big, with a parasol and two folding chairs. You sit down on one and close your eyes, your head throbs a little.

"Are you okay?" someone asks after a few minutes.

To your surprise (not really a surprise), Jihyo stands next to you before sitting down on the chair to your right.

"Yeah, it's just the alcohol," you say.

You and alcohol, not really a good combination.

Especially not when you're sitting next to the girl you're in love with.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" you ask out of nowhere.

She shakes his head, "I thought it was obvious" she says and laughs a little.

"I love you" you confess.

She turns to you, but before he can answer anything, you keep talking.

"I know we haven't known each other that long... a month?? more? less? but-... I just have this feeling with you that I only used to have with her"

"I thought I'd never feel it again," you say, a tear running down your cheek.

Jihyo looks at you, her eyes slightly watery.

Is she crying too?

"Y/n" she says, interrupting your continued rambling.

She gets up, kneels down in front of your chair, and -

kisses you.

Her soft lips on yours.

She pulls away after just a few seconds and you already feel like you miss her lips.

"I love you too Y/n" she says softly.

You look at her in amazement.

"Really?" you ask.

"That's why I asked if you had a girlfriend" now it all makes so much more sense.

She pulls you up and takes you to the guest room. She tries to lay you down on the bed but you pull her with you and she falls on top of you.

You both stare at each other and laugh a little.

"You're drunk, get some rest," she says, kissing your forehead.

"I'll be here when you wake up"

And she really is next to you when you wake up.

"Good morning..." you groan as you rub your eyes.

She smiles at you, "good morning" she says, from the look on her face you suspect she woke up just a few minutes before you.

You pull her closer to you by her collar and kiss her, she kisses you back while her hand is on your cheek.

The kiss is just perfect, gentle, slow, a perfect way to start his morning.

But it can also be perfect in another way.

It gets warmer under the covers as you continue kissing, she kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on it. You can't help but rub your thighs together a little.

"What about the others?" you ask.

"I kicked them out yesterday after you fell asleep" she says, continuing to kiss your neck, even nibbling on it, making you let out soft moans.

"Jihyo, I think you should know that I am a virgin" you say, your cheeks heating up a little in embarrassment.

She giggles a little, kissing you on the lips again.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about baby" she replies with a smile.

She gets on top of you, continuing to kiss you.

You think kissing Jihyo is the best thing in the world.

Her hands trail over your body, giving you a soft squeeze here and there.

"Can I?" she asks, her hand playing with the buttons on your pants.

"Please" you answer with a smile.

She complies and opens them, pulling off your pants and leaving you in your underwear.

You sit up a little, your hands on her waist, feeling up her muscles, especially her abs.

"Want me to take it off?" she asks, you nod.

She pulls off her shirt over her head, dropping it somewhere on the floor.

Your finger trails up his stomach to her bra, looking at her like she is a work of art (she definetly is one).

"Done admiring me?" she asks with a teasing grin, to which you reply "never".

She leans down again, kissing your face as she starts to trail them down till he arrives at the waistband of your underwear.

"Can I?" she asks again, "yes" you answer, already out of breath.

She takes your underwear off, her hands placed on your thighs as she leaves kisses everywhere.

You can definetly tell that she has a thing for kissing.

When she places a kiss right on your clit though, you let out a small moan.

She begins licking and sucking on it, making you grab her hair with your hands as your fingers curl deeper into her scalp, leaving a delicious burn.

She drags her tongue down as she circles your core, slowly entering it a little.

You let out more moans as you turn your head to the side, moaning into the pillow.

Her tongue feels so good when you realise that you are closer and closer to your climax.

"Jihyo- I think I'm gonna-"

"Let it out princess" she mumbles against your core, the vibrations of her voice stimulating you even more as you cum into her mouth.

She smiles at you as he sits up, watching you coming down from your high.

You smile back at him as your cheeks turn red again.

"Can I?" she asks, her fingers trailing down your soft skin as her nails scratch you a little.

You look at her hand, a few veins poking out, her fingers thin but long.

You look at her again, nodding.

You pulled her closer as she rubs your clit with her fingers, you suck in your breath as she slowly pushes them in, the little stretch burning in a way that makes you even hornier.

She slips them in completly, you let out a moan in response. She takes your hand with her free one as your fingers intertwine.

She starts to slowly thrust into you, kissing you again as her tongue explores your mouth.

"You're so tight baby.." she mumbles into your mouth.

You can't help but let out louder moans when she starts to speed up a little.

Her fingers drive you crazy, it feels like she is everywhere, you feel her everywhere in your body as she exits and enters you.

"P-please jihyo- faster" you moan out, and who would she be if she wouldn't listen to your wishes?

She speeds up her thrusts, kissing down your neck again as her hot breath hits your skin.

Your hand grips the pillow your hand is laying on, moaning against your arm as you can feel Jihyo curling her fingers.

She thrusts into you again before you moan loudly, cumming as your thighs close around her wrist, panting heavily as she lets herself fall onto the spot next to you.

You both stare at the ceiling, the only sounds the heavy breathing from you.

You move her hand to yours and intertwine your fingers. She moves her head to the side to look at you, smiling.

You think seeing her smiling is something you can never get enough of.

Idiots in love, thats how you two can be described.

The next few months were full of love. Kisses here, kisses there. It didn't even have to be sexual, no, it was always romantic, no matter what you did together.

After a few months, she gave you a ring.

"One day I'll buy you an expensive, real diamond ring and ask you to marry me," she said, and since then you've both worn the matching rings without taking them off once.

If only it had stayed that way.

It's late at night, you're lying in bed reading a book when you get a message.

"I love you,

I'm sorry" - from Jihyo.

You sit up and stare at your cell phone.

"What's wrong?" you type and send the message, she replies,

"I can't take it anymore"

She can't take it anymore?

You feel a twinge in your head as you suddenly realize something.

It's too similar to Dahyun's goodbye.

"I can't live in this world anymore" she wrote in her text.

You look at her location, and without hesitation you walk, no - storm out of your apartment and run to her.

She's not far away, a bridge situated over a river only 5 minutes away, and you think you've never been so grateful for anything.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to see anything while your clothes get wetter and wetter, the rain completly drenches you.

Again it feels like a cliché love drama.

Only maybe this time you have the chance to have a happy ending.

Your legs are burning from all the running as you arrive on the bridge.

"Jihyo!" you shout, the rain pattering loudly on the asphalt, forcing you to shout even louder for her.

Her bike is right next to her, one leg over the railing, her hands gripping it tightly, as if she's...

Scared?

"Y/n?" she answers, her voice low and shaky.

"Please..." you say as you walk slowly towards her.

She doesn't stop you when you take her hand in yours.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, she looks at you as a tear runs down her cheek.

"I-... I didn't want you to worry. I thought this feeling would go away if I didn't talk to anyone about it," she says.

Whether your face is wet from the rain or your tears, you don't know.

"Believe me, you have to talk to me, then it will get better," you say.

Her face comes closer to yours and, without answering, she kisses you.

You kiss her back, try to grab her so you can hold her closer - but she lets go.

Completely.

You slowly open your eyes, afraid of what you will see - but you see nothing.

No one.

The rain completely overwhelms you.

"No..." you whisper, looking down on the floor and picking up something shiny.

Her ring.

You look out over the railing and see the water turning slightly red.

It feels like you're trapped in a vicious circle, like you'll never find peace again.

You are trapped, with no way out.

While other people find the rain soothing, you find it to be more like torture.

While other people would stay indoors in weather like this, you're outside again.

Again in front of a grave.

But this time it's Jihyo's.

Everything feels too similar and you hate it more than anything.

"It's not your fault" is a sentence you started to hate.

You hoped so much that you would never have to hear or read it again.

"Why didn't you talk to me..." you whisper, as if she could hear you.

Your hand clutches the letter, it slowly getting soaked by the rain.

You don't dare to move.

"You knew what happened..."

All time does is passing -

"Why did you hide it from me..." Your voice is full of despair.

And all you ever do is grieve.

"Life without you is no way to live" the white flower falls on his grave -

just like her ring,

engraved with your name.

She helped you recover from Dahyun's death.

You just wish you wouldn't have to recover over her death alone now.

In another universe, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.

In this universe, you're left alone,

again.

306 notes · View notes

runa-falls · 1 year

Text

scratches and bites - 3

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: explicit 18+, use of demeaning names, biting/marking/scratching, use of venom, a small amount of blood, unprotected sex, creampie (whoops), cumplay (whoops 2x), slight size kink (whoops 3x), bondage (0-0), feelings (bleh), needy wittle miguel :P

a/n: uhhh, this may have gotten away from me -- went from 1k to 4k real fast (or slow bc i'm a slow writer hehe)

summary: miguel o'hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. you regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. this is what happens when he's had enough.

w/c: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

“Clean-up crew is on the way. You,” He points sharply in your direction, “come with me.” He roughly passes by you, purposely clipping the edge of your shoulder.

You sulk slightly and follow him into the portal, mood effectively ruined.

Everything worked perfectly in your eyes. You were able to save the family and a few people inside the building. You even had time to pick up a free hotdog.

“It’s on the house for you, Spider-Woman! Thanks for saving the day!”

“Aw, thanks, dude.”

Of course, before you could take a bite of your well-earned lunch, O’Hara’s hulking figure was standing over you. He’s angry.

Gwen wisely scurried off before you all got to the portal and Jess had better things to do than deal with whatever was going on between the two of you. So you’re effectively alone now. Great.

“The fuck did you think you were doing out there?” Miguel’s voice booms off the high ceilings of his office as he leads you toward his desk. He has this pretentiously slow platform that he loves to use to look down on people. You feel like a student that got called to the principal's office. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed–or worse, gotten someone else pulled into your fucking mess.”

You roll your eyes as soon as he passes, “Oh, come on O’Hara, you were about to bail on a car full of people and left a bunch of workers in the crumbling building because nothing is more important than your dumbass box of scraps and wires!”

He turns stiffly, jaw clenching at your words, but his eyes roam to anything else in the room but you. Like always. “You know we’ve been looking for that equipment for months. If we have any chance to hold back this multiverse annihilator even a few days, we’re gonna take it.” Miguel is as curt as ever, stance stiff as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected. Like he’s convincing himself he’s doing the right thing. And what you did was wrong.

“There were four of us out there, Miguel,” His eyes briefly meet yours at the sound of his given name. Something he has rarely heard you say since you’ve been in Nueva York. “The package was barely a struggle for one of us! You’re telling me we needed four hands to locate and retrieve that shit?” You gesture over to the crate resting on his computer platform.

He sighs like he’s tired of hearing your voice. Tired of being in the same room as you. His hand smooths over his face, “That’s not the point, Kid.” You could feel warmth blooming inside of your chest at his choice of words. It’s demeaning, and he knows it. As much as you hate him right now, you’re also loving this. You’re finally getting the chance to express all the frustration he’s inspired in you. And it’s satisfying to watch him get all wound up because you actually made the right move. He just can’t admit it.“What you did was beyond idiotic. You could’ve–”

“Well, I didn’t. And I’m not a fucking kid.” You spit out the words. His eyes immediately darken as you raise your voice. Bright cherry to rich blood.

Miguel rolls his shoulders back from annoyance and briefly closes his eyes. Irritated. You seem to always irritate him. His jaw is tight, and right under his full top lip you can almost make out– “What did I say about interrupting me?” He’s seething, head tilted slightly as pushes away from his desk and off the platform to you.

His deep voice is so low that you swear you can feel it surrounding you, vibrating the warm air that clings to the thin treads of your suit. “You’re so…” His fists clenched tightly and tension rolls off of him, crashing into you like a wave. “Difficult.” You try to stay brave and hold your head up, unwilling to cower under his superficial anger. “So fucking irritating.”

This is getting nowhere.

“So that’s why you called me in, hm?” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, but really, it’s his fault. This whole time he’s been inching closer and closer to you, taking up all your space. “To call me petty names? Tell me all the things that are wrong with me?” You have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him, he’s so close.

“No.” He drawls the word, his voice deep and muffled. Then you realize. His fangs. The stark change of the air in the room was enough to make your breath hitch. You suddenly feel trapped.

“I brought you here,” There are only a couple of inches separating your chest from touching his and you swear you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, almost simmering under his suit. “To teach you a lesson.” He leans down slightly, closing in the height distance between the two of you. You haven’t been this close to him since that night.

“W-what kind of lesson?”

“The kind that’ll persuade you to follow the rules.” Your knees nearly buckle as each word is lightly whispered next to your ear. He keeps his hands to himself, but it still feels like he’s wrapping himself around you. “To listen to me. Like a good girl.” Just as your body begins to mirror his and lean into his space, he backs up and strolls back to his desk.

Your eyes instantly lower and stay locked onto his spotless steel floors as you listen to him slowly walk away. You feel your face heat in embarrassment as you become more self-aware of the way your body reacted to him. He hadn’t even touched you.

“Come here.” Your head tilts up slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s sitting back on his desk chair, legs spread confident and inviting as he watches you watch him through hungry eyes. He can tell your mind is brimming with overlapping thoughts as you decide whether to listen to him or not.

Some part of you worries you’re being lured into a trap. That O’Hara, one of the least genuine people you know, is playing with you. But your body doesn’t really seem to care, already moving until your ankles meet the edge of the barely floating platform. The air around you is cool and empty without his presence. Your body craves more of Miguel’s natural heat.

“...Closer.” You shuffle over until you’re a couple of feet away, fingers twisting together with uncertainty. He’s looking at you, leering at you. Virtually devouring you with that scarlet stare of his. If he wanted, he could reach over and pull you closer, eliminating the space between you, but he decidedly doesn’t, clearly wanting you to come to him.

“Don’t worry, honey, I don’t bite – oh wait,” He grins at his own joke, fangs proudly poking out from under his plump lips. You don’t realize how hard you're biting your lip until it starts to seriously sting. Your teeth release your aching lip and his gaze follows the action before meeting your eyes.

“Unless you want me to.” You haven’t uttered a word in a while and you don’t really want to. You’re completely content to continue to soak in the words that slip from his tongue. “Do you?”

Yes.

“Do I…”

“...want me to bite you.” He openly runs his soft tongue over the contours of his fangs.

Yes.

“B-bite…?”

“Mhm. Make you all numb and pliant for me?” He finally reaches over and gently tugs you closer by your arm. You let him. “That what you want, hermosa?” Your body slots seamlessly in the space between his thighs. His face cradles perfectly into the crook of your neck. You sigh, subconsciously leaning closer as his tender lips hover sweetly over your covered throat.

He whispers, barely audible against your skin, “Promise it’ll only hurt for a second.”

Yes.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t waste any time.

A hand drifts up your arm to the flexible collar of your suit. He tugs it down lightly, revealing your bare skin to the cool air. It’s not enough for him. With a hushed tear, he uses a claw to split the fabric down to the top of your shoulder, giving him more access to your body. He pushes your hair back and nudges himself closer to you, nose nestling where your neck meets your shoulder. He breathes you in. “Sweet.” His voice barely carries with how soft he says it.

The balmy heat of his breath sweeps along the side of your neck before his lips finally connect. His hands trail against your waist, slowly caressing you as he slowly presses kisses into your skin, trailing his lips down until he finds the spot. You tilt your head to the side as you feel the light scratch of his fangs.

“Hold on to me, baby.�� Your gloved hands grip his thick forearms. He bites down.

It hurts in the beginning like you thought it would. Like he said it would. You try to disguise your wince, but you can’t stop the way your body flinches at the sensation. It’s intense, the sharp pain, and it spreads, traveling down from your neck to your toes.

And then, something clicks. It vanishes. That ache gets replaced with an endless warmth that relaxes every muscle in your body. Your hands, once clenched around Miguel, begin to loosen so the only thing that’s holding you up is him.

Everything touching your skin feels amazing. The heat of his hands. The suit that's starting to slowly fall down your shoulder.

Your eyes glaze over with pleasure as you watch him pull away from your body to look at you. His tongue pokes out, swiping over his bottom lip to collect the mixture of residual venom and your blood. Are you bleeding? You lean closer and your hands reach out for his shoulders.

“That good, hm?” Even his voice feels good.

You use his solid form to keep you steady as you boldly crawl onto his lap, “Really, really, good.” He hums and you feel his chest vibrate against yours. His arms easily wrap around your form as he waits patiently for you to get comfortable on top of him.

In this moment you realize how this will change everything. And you’re not talking about the bit.-- Ok, not just the bite.

It’s seeing him like this that flips your world. Feeling his touch. The gentle way he holds you against him and the patient way he lets your fingers trail down his strong chest until you’ve decided you’ve had enough. He makes you feel special. Wanted. Everything that you’ve craved since you followed him here. The same thing he offered you before taking it away.

So you’re scared. You don’t know if you could ever let this go because you know you’ll always yearn for moments like this. If he pushes you away again…

The fog in your head dissipates and it’s like you’re waking up. You catch his eye and his brows furrow. He senses something’s wrong. His hand cradles yours and gives you a comforting squeeze.

“What is it?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“What do you mean?” His eyes are sincere as they try to read your crestfallen expression.

“Just…” You exhale slowly and rest your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t do this then walk away, Miguel.” Your words hang in the air for a few seconds as he takes them in.

Great, you ruined the mood. “Look, Miguel, I–” He softly lifts your head and leans in to press his forehead against yours. You’re so close he could probably feel your eyelashes brush against his cheeks.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He draws you in and kisses you deeply, taking your breath away with his tender touch. It feels like a promise like he’s signing the dotted line of your heart. “I’m yours.” It’s whispered against your lips when he pulls back and you can help the grin that sprouts from his words. He matches it.

“Yeah?”

You’re pulled back in, “Mhm…” Muffled, but absolute.

Kissing Miguel is exactly how you imagined it to be: addictive.

Maybe it’s the residual venom left on his tongue, but the way he moves against you, mouth and body, makes your legs tremble. Makes you ache for him.

You melt against him, drunk on his taste and leaning in for more. His hands go from cradling your face and delicately tracing your neck to massaging your thighs, hands practically draping over you with the size difference.

He delicately licks into your mouth, greedily taking in every aspect of your taste. Your lips vibrate excitingly when his tongue brushes against them, they’re super sensitive from how long he’s been working them.

You feel him under you, nestled achingly against your ass. He throbs eagerly every time you let out a breathless sigh or a muffled moan. You’re no better. You swear you already have a wet spot ruining your suit from all the times he ‘accidentally’ grips his claws into the curve of your hips.

You whimper quietly when you feel the sharp point of his fang drags ever so slightly across your bottom lip. As he moves downwards, it delicately tugs at it, briefly revealing the bottom row of your teeth before releasing it. He moves his mouth along the line of your jaw and then focuses on the sensitive bite he left to bloom red and purple on your neck.

With his hands back on your waist, he starts to lick up the small droplets of blood that were staining trails down your shoulder. It stings wonderfully as he laves against it, cleaning the red off your smooth skin. You can’t help but to cry out as he begins to suck at your sensitive skin, it’s a bit more intense than you were expecting, but it feels really good. He blows cool air on it when he releases your skin, soothing the new mark he’s left on you.

His mouth is back on yours, letting you taste your own blood as your tongues intermingle with fervor. Fingers tug at the front of your suit to pull you impossibly closer as your teeth nash against one another. You hear a faint rip between you as his grip tightens and pulls at the stretchy material. Your skin quickly reacts as the cool air wraps around you, arms prickling with goosebumps and nipples tightening into hard buds.

You both pull back and look down at the damage. Your suit is split down the middle of your torso, revealing everything from your heaving chest to your belly button. Your body ignites with heat when you notice how his crimson eyes drink you in. A soft growl vibrates from his chest.

“Miguel, this is the only suit I have.”

“My bad.” Zero remorse in his voice. Asshole.

He abruptly grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind you with one hand causing you to arch your back, inevitably giving him a better look. “God, you’re sexy.” His other hand slowly molds over your waist and smooths it upwards to grasp your tit with a playful squeeze. Using his gloved thumb, he teases the soft peak of your nipple, flicking it once just to hear you gasp. He does it once more, grinning (with his fangs cutely poking out) when you react the same way.

“Miguel…” You whine out, pouting at his teasing.

He idly drags his claws down your stomach, enjoying the way your breath hitches when he gets closer to your center. “You always go without a bra under there?”

“It’s a tight suit.”

“It is…” His hand trails down to your inner thigh and you shift slightly, leaning back so he can touch exactly where you need him. He gets the hint and gently cups you over your damp suit. “And here…?”

Your bottom lip tucks into your mouth as you look up at him, nodding softly. “And there.”

You’re suddenly being carried by Miguel, weight supported by his strong arms. You have to quickly wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward. He hurriedly takes you over to his desk and sets you down at the edge of the waist-level table.

He is so tall that you struggle a bit to keep your hold around his neck so you settle your hands back on his chest. You push at his firm figure and sit back to fully take him in. “And how about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you wear anything under that unbearably tight suit?”

“I do, actually. Wanna see?”

You’ve heard the rumors of Miguel’s nano-suit, but you’re still perplexed when he grabs his interdimensional watch from the desk next to you. He clicks a couple of holographic buttons and you watch in awe as his suit seems to dissolve off of him, one particle at a time, like it never existed in the first place. The fading red and navy reveal his perfectly muscled body, somehow making him look even bigger in front of you.

He did, in fact, have some briefs on under the suit, but it’s what’s under it that catches your attention. Your thighs clench together as you watch him set down the timepiece, his arm unintentionally flexing under the dim lighting.

Miguel returns to you and you spread your legs slightly so he can stand directly in front of you. You slowly reach out to him, palm to the skin, and soak in the natural heat of his body. You can feel his heart beating under his chest, slow and steady.

“You’re hot.”

He has that teasing grin back on his face, “Am I?”

“I mean…warm.”

He shrugs, “Us Spiders run hot.”

Miguel moves your hand off of him and sets it on the table before pushing his body closer to you, making your legs push out further. He leans in so close that you have to slowly tilt your body back with him. “Bet you’re warmer.”

He shifts your body further onto the table and then starts working on the rest of your suit. It tears easily from your body, scraps falling to the floor until you’re fully bare in front of him. You pant as you watch him and feel your center pulse in reaction to his rough handling. “There we are.” His voice is soothing, but his eyes flash dangerously. You arch your back slightly as his claws scrape lightly over your stomach to your most sensitive area. You don’t even have to look down to know you’re dripping, you can feel it all over your inner thighs.

His fingers glide over your glistening lips, spreading your eager wetness leisurely. His claws are gone. You watch his face as he stares at his actions, his hungry eyes dark with lust. You both groan when one finger dips in, pushing gently against your entrance. You’re practically gushing around him as he starts to move, wet sounds accompanying each thrust. A string of slick follow his hand as he pulls away and it drips carelessly on your flushed thigh. With hooded eyes, Miguel holds up his dripping finger, “Open.” You suck on him enthusiastically, holding his gaze as it’s slipped into your mouth. “Fuck.”

His briefs are shoved down his muscular thighs before you can look down and you’re shoved roughly onto your back. You feel his claws dig into your thighs as he spreads you out for him, pushing them back until they're next to your waist. His warm hardness slides against your weeping pussy, covering him in slick as he prepares himself.

Your breath hitches as his cock pushes inside of you, nearly stretching you to your limit. You try your best to take deep breaths, but it’s hard when you can literally feel each inch sinking into your body. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as he feels you involuntarily clench around him, invariably sucking him in further. His eyes are almost glowing with how bright red they are. “Relax for me baby, I’m almost in.”

Your thighs tremble under his hands as he continues to plunge in deeper, unable to keep up with all the stimulants surrounding you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls is exquisite and you can barely hold yourself back from cumming right there.

Then he starts moving.

His hips drag back, pulling almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside of you. Your head tilts back with pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut, you can’t even tell what you’re holding on to. He keeps this slow pace, body nearly engulfing you as he hovers above. A moan follows each thrust as he fucks you into his desk.

When your eyes are finally able to flutter back open, you meet his stare. You quickly attempt to hide your face with your arm, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with him while he’s using your body like this. He doesn’t like that.

Your wrists are forced above you and then expertly webbed together to hold them there. His red webs pulse hot around your wrists. Unlike the traditional webs that tend to feel like cool lace, his are warm, like fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists, almost thrumming with soft heat in a way that makes them feel alive.

You yelp when his hand tugs sharply at the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze as he moves over you. “Look at me, baby.” You listen. He begins to aim his thrusts upwards into you, nudging against that special spot inside of you. And as hard as you try to keep looking at him, your eyes inevitably roll back as he hits it so precisely. You faintly see stars.

You cry out as heat blooms your center and your thighs close around his hips, tightening as a spark swarms in your lower belly. “That’s it, baby,” He speeds up, feeling you start to clench around him, “let go.”

Your vision blurs when your climax blasts through your body. Hot tears spill from the intensity of the feeling, creating hot trails of wetness over your cheeks. “Such a pretty little thing." He wipes them away lovingly. Your body jerks with pleasure and Miguel has to hold your waist down as your back starts to arch off the desk.

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he starts fucking you harder, letting his body weight hold you in place as he chases his own high. You whine against his neck, skin sticky with sweat, as he roughly ruts into you. “Be mine, baby, and I’ll take care of you forever.” His claws dig into your web-pasted wrists as he works himself into you, post-orgasm slick smothered carelessly over the both of you. “I promise.” He whispers breathlessly next to your ear.

“Please.” The word is nearly stuck in your throat as he continues to take everything your body is willing to give him. He’s basically grinding his cock into you now, wanting you as close as possible for these last moments. You barely hear it but he whimpers against your shoulder as he starts to draw closer to his climax, desperately rutting his hips against you.

With a choked-out groan, his movements grow sloppy and he thrusts deep inside of you a few more times. You feel the warmth of him as he spills inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He’s panting above you, body weight nearly smothering yours. You love it.

He slowly pulls out once he’s calmed down, eyes locked onto your leaking center that’s full of a mixture of you and him. His fingers lovingly spread his cum over your pussy and you flinch as he slides against your sensitive clit. You give him a look of disapproval which he ignores as he pushes his mess back inside of you.

“Will you let me out of these now?” You pull at the webs, still holding your arms above you.

“Hm…I think I’ll keep you there for a little bit longer.”

–

His office is like a bat cave when you’re barely dressed. There’s a slight breeze in the office (you have no clue where it’s coming from) that’s making it particularly drafty. You force Miguel to huddle over you like some oversized puffer jacket as it was his fault the only clothes you came with are lying on the floor in scraps.

“How am I supposed to leave when my suit is in tatters?”

His arms hold you tighter, “You aren’t. You’re staying with me.”

“Miguel, people are probably looking for us by now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Miguel.”

“Alright, fine. You can borrow one of my nano-suits, but we’re going to my place.”

“Dude, you’re like 6’3”, how am I supposed to fit into one of those?”

He tsks, “Really? You’re calling me ‘dude’ after all of this?” He grabs his watch again, scrolling through some settings. “It’s nano-tech, sweetheart, it fits what I want it to fit.” He dials the size down, letting you watch as the hologram shrinks to display your general size. “And I’m 6’7.”

-----

taglist: @deputy-videogamer @syd-vixious @bachirasbasics @danaeaurelia @reuxxi @halparkebitch @kittekat420

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara smut

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bonny-kookoo · 6 months

Text

Jungkook

𝕽𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | Teaser

Hang the sinner by his wings.

Tags/Warnings: Demon!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Modern fantasy AU, Angst, slow burn, mature themes, hurt and comfort, Tags vary for each chapter

Length: ~4k words per chapter

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

He can't even get you to drink anything at all, but he has to if he wants even the slightest chance at getting that rogue demon out of you.

He tips the cup of water against your lips to aid in getting you to drink anything and replenish what your body so desperately needs during this time- but he knows, deep down, that you can't keep this fight up much longer than you already have. Your soul might be strong, but your body is already hitting its limits- muscles trembling from the force of the most recent attempt made to possess you.

"There you go.." he hums to you in gentle reassurance, unable to contain his affection for you even if you're incapable of returning any of it. He can't help the way his hand runs over your back to try and comfort you, even though he knows it means nothing to you.

You feel nothing for him but indifference. You don't even hate him.

Knowing what he does now, he's aware of the fact that this entire situation is partially, if not entirely, his own fault. When he saved you centuries ago, he also made you very much horribly attractive for houseless demons like the one currently attempting to use you as more than just a host, but even if he knew back then what he knows now, he would've still gone through with it.

He'd save you any chance he'd get. And maybe that's the sickest part of his whole curse.

The knife on the table is another way out for you, of course. A dead vessel is worth nothing to a demon of this kind, and maybe, it would let you rest for once as well- but he knows that even if held against the prospect of eternal punishment, Jungkook wouldn't ever be able to be the one to take your life. After all, he did what he did many lifetimes ago to save it, and not have it taken either way.

He didn't just buy you time.

He bought you the guarantee of a full life, with every reincarnation.

Jungkook helps you back into bed after letting you calm down for a little bit, before he opens the door to let your friend back inside. At the sight of him, you immediately begin to reach out and cry, and the sight alone has his heart in a chokehold.

Or whatever is left of it, in this case.

Your tears are salty in the open scars he has inside of him, but the fact that you can even shed them at all makes the sting feel a little less harsh. He can deal with this, as long as he knows you're getting the life you were almost denied. He can see you smile, and cry, and love-

Even if it's in the arms of someone else.

"She's a lost cause." Yoongi mumbles from a corner, watching Jungkook who closes the door behind him.

"She's not." Jungkook denies.

"You barely made any progress." The fellow demon shakes his head at him. "You're torturing her."

"I'm saving her." The younger demon denies. "Any progress is progress."

"And how long can you stand this, I wonder." The cat eyed man asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall behind him. "Let me-"

"No." Jungkook instantly denies. "You'll kill her."

"And maybe that's for the best, my friend." He offers in sympathy. "Why are you chasing after someone who cannot even love you?"

"Because if I don't,.." jungkook mumbles, turning to look at your closed door.

"...then everything I sacrificed has been for nothing."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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muchosbesitos · 7 months

Text

treat her better part 2

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: angst, reader using someone 🤥 (sorta), unprotected p in v, face sitting

author’s note: hope you all enjoy this part <33 sorry it took so long (i got the planetarium part after watching bojack horseman 🫡)

word count: 4k

treat her better part one

"Wait, what?"

Out of all the things that Miguel could've said, this surprised you the most. Surely, he must've had some idea in the back of his head about how much he'd been neglecting this relationship. “I said I want to break up with you," you repeated, your hands moving nervously as you spoke. "No, no, I heard what you said. But I’ve done nothing but love you, so I'm not understanding why?" He responded, looking down at you as his brows furrowed.

The annoying beeping from his gizmo interrupted your train of thought and you hoped that for once, he would choose you over his other priorities. At least at the end, for what it's worth. "Maybe you should get that," you told him and he let out a small huff, rolling his eyes as he checked the gizmo. "Look, we'll talk about this when I get back home. You're overreacting about this," he said as he turned around and opened a portal to leave. You were unsure of why you felt a lingering disappointment at being left alone once more with the memory of the person you fell in love with.

You decided to lock up the doors and windows and disabled his access to the house through your gizmo. You hoped that it would be enough to convey to him that you weren't putting up with him anymore though a bit of doubt crawled up inside you. You were too much in your own head to get some sleep so you looked up at the ceiling as if it held some answer to your dilemma. You were just starting to fall asleep when a repeated tapping on your window ruined all chances of that happening.

"C'mon, stop being childish and open this damn window!" Miguel yelled from your bedroom window, tapping on it with much more intensity. You stayed in your spot and hoped that he didn't have half the mind to break your window. "It's raining! Look, we can talk about this whenever you want, just let me in!" He yelled once more and you felt a thump coming from next door, your neighbors tapping so you'd shut him up. Eventually Miguel left your window and you could finally breathe normally again, though you didn't get too much sleep that night.

You showed up to the Spider Society a couple days after that, taking a couple more days of your break since you weren't sure if you could handle being in the same building as Miguel. You did your best to ignore the whispers surrounding you and headed to the cafeteria to get a snack before your upcoming mission. You decided on getting a pan dulce with milk, sitting down alone as you scrolled through your gizmo to catch up. You only looked up when someone slid in the spot next to you, one of the more recent recruits of the society.

"Hey darling, I couldn't help but notice how upset you looked all here alone so I thought I'd check up on you," he told you, flashing his teeth at you. You offered a noncommittal smile and gave him your name. "That sounds beautiful. Tell me, what are you doing here all by yourself?" He inquired, leaning a bit forward as he spoke. "I'm going through a break-up right now, so I'm not exactly pleasant to be around," you responded with a small shrug, hoping that he'd leave you alone after that. "Well if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or a dick to ride on, just know that I'm here to service you," he remarked, winking at you.

You were certain you'd heard him wrong and you were about to say something when you heard your name being called behind you. You turned around to face Miguel and he looked like he would kill the guy next to you if his eyes were bullets. "I need to discuss something with you in my office," he told you bluntly and you decided to stand up to follow him, choosing the least uncomfortable option at the moment. "Hey man, what's your deal? I was trying to spit game and you totally ruined my chances," the guy stood up, trying to size up Miguel but failing miserably.

"My deal is that I want to talk to one of my employees and you're acting like your miserable pick up line is working. I'd suggest getting back to work given that you're still on probation," Miguel responded, looking down at the man as he spoke. The guy could've resembled a bobblehead with the way he nodded at Miguel, leaving as quick as he could. You walked back to Miguel’s office in silence, wondering what he could possibly have to talk to you about. Though you couldn't help but hope that it was work-related, a part of you wanted him to acknowledge how much he missed having you around.

You stood around awkwardly in Miguel’s office as you waited for him to speak and you found yourself making conversation with LYLA to try to break the silence. "LYLA, can you leave the room please?" He asked her, coming closer to you. LYLA brought her hand up to salute him before she disappeared, leaving you alone with Miguel. "Is this about work?" You asked him, swaying from foot to foot nervously. "No, it's about our relationship. I feel like we left some things unsaid," he responded, grabbing two chairs from the side and pulled them closer.

You took a seat and waited for Miguel to speak, unsure of what more you could say to him. "I want to know why you broke up with me," he told you, his red eyes boring into you as he waited for a response. "I broke up with you because it felt like I was more so dating the memory of you at the end rather than you. I stuck around hoping that one day you'd realize how much you were hurting me with this whole absent love thing but it didn't happen," you answered with complete sincerity as you looked at him. "I'm sorry for not being what you needed. You deserve better than me."

You blinked as you looked at him dumbfounded, unsure if you'd heard him correctly. "I never wanted someone better than you. I just wanted you to do the bare minimum in our relationship, I just wanted you to care enough about me to be better! But your only excuse is that I deserve better?" You raised your voice as you spoke, standing up from the chair. You were about to leave the room when Miguel grabbed your arm, stopping you from reaching the door.

"I can change you for you, I promise," he whispered, holding your arm so you couldn't leave while he was speaking. "I don't want you to change for me. Because then you'll end up treating me like I matter for a couple days or weeks before you go back to disregarding me and then the cycle repeats. If you want to change, good for you, but don't do it just because of me," you said, leaving the room before you burst out into tears. A part of you couldn't help but wish he'd cared enough to say these things while the two of you were together.

You were unsure if it was because he was something familiar and you just needed to find some release or if it was your subconscious speaking, but you called Miguel to come over to your place that night. You were regretting the decision the more that you waited for him to come to your apartment, but you decided to brush those worries away. It would just be friendly ex sex and that would be it. No strings and no attachments.

All the attachments that you held towards Miguel came rushing through you when you opened the door. You invited him in and let him make himself at home, watching as he navigated through the space like it was his first time being there. "Do you want some water?" You offered him, walking over to the kitchen but he stopped you before you stepped foot in there. "What are we doing here? I have a feeling you didn't invite me here at 12 just to ask me if I wanted some water," he inquired, looking down at you as he analyzed your expression. "I thought that maybe we could use each other for some relief.."

You and Miguel eventually ended up in your bedroom, skipping over the kissing and engaging in some minimal foreplay so as to not blur the lines of this agreement. "Sit on my face," he told you, his face completely serious as he laid down on your bed. You'd done it a couple times when the two of you were together but you were always so afraid of suffocating him. "Stop being in your head so much. I wouldn't ask you to do it if i didn't enjoy doing it."

You sat on his chest as you started to move towards his face, your clit rubbing up against one of the ridges of his abs. You couldn't help the moan that escaped you and he let out a small chuckle. "Ab riding? That seems something worth exploring at a later time," he murmured, his hands on your hips as you settled on top of him. He started off slow, licking around your folds as he got himself acquainted to the taste of you once more. "Missed this pussy so much," he said, delivering a slap to your pussy before he began his attack.

Your hands flew down to his hair, holding you in place as his tongue went in and out of your hole, tasting every juice that your cunt was releasing. Your hips began swiveling against his mouth as your clit rubbed up against his nose, working in tandem with his mouth. You looked down to see his eyes closed as he focused on what he was doing, treating you like you were the finest meal he'd ever tasted. His tongue continued its assault as you kept coating his face with new arousal, your juices glistening on his face as he slurped them up.

He slowly inserted his finger into your cunt, a loud squelching noise following after. He bit down on your thigh, the pain contorting with the pleasure as your cunt squeezed around his finger, coating him with fresh arousal as you unclenched. "Pussy only belongs to me, don't forget it," he whispered before his tongue went straight to your clit. He rolled his tongue around the nub, his finger curling to hit that spongy spot that had your toes curling. You brought your hands up to your breasts, pinching the nipples and tugging at them as you stimulated yourself even further.

You felt your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, the sensation too much to bear. You wouldn't have been sitting up if it wasn't for Miguel’s tight grip on your thighs as he licked away at your release, eager to taste every drop that you would give him. You got off him a while after and he got on top of you, kissing down your neck. He left a bite on your collarbone before pulling back, probably remembering the no intimacy pact that you two had agreed upon.

"You sure you want to do this?" He asked you, stroking your thighs as he waited for a response. "I do," you told him, watching as he aligned his cock to your pussy. You felt the sting forming in your vagina as he slid inside, stretching you out already with just the tip inside. You did your best to relax and he slid in with much more ease, bottoming out. He leaned down, pressing a kiss on the tip of your nose before he slowly started to take his cock out. All the air from your lungs escaped like a deflating balloon when he pushed his cock back in, filling you to the brim.

Your hands went up to his forearms as you gripped him, holding him as a lifesaver while he thrusted in you. His hips snapped with every movement, his balls slapping against your folds. Your moans filled up the room as he kept going, treating you like you were going to vanish at any moment. "I love you," he whispered so faintly that you weren't sure you heard him right. You chose to disregard it because thinking about it too much would just give you more confusion later on. He kept up with his thrusts, placing your legs on his shoulders as the new angle allowed for him to get deeper inside of you.

Your walls clenched around his cock, almost like they wanted to entrap him with every movement that he made. He played with your nipples, his rough hands kneading them and rolling them between his fingers. One of his hands went down to your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as he was to your nipples. You felt yourself coming up to that crescendo, the fall being nothing less than satisfying. Your juices coated his cock completely, providing him with the easy access that he needed to thrust inside of you. Your walls clenched around him once more and he came inside, his cock pummeling his cum deep inside of you.

He rolled off to the side eventually, catching his breath before the next round. You were coming down from your euphoria, taking a couple minutes to catch your breathing when you felt tears rolling down your cheeks. You weren't aware that you were crying until Miguel pointed it out, wiping your tears away with his pointer finger. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He asked you, using a gentle tone with you as he rubbed small circles on your stomach.

"I thought I could do this whole no strings attached sex with you, Miguel. But the truth is that I can't. I'm still so in love with you and I'm really trying not to be. I'm not completely sure why I called you over," you responded and he retracted his hand, getting up from the bed. You wanted reassurance from him at that moment but he wasn't going to give you any. "Stay safe, okay? I'll see you at work when you feel ready to show up," he told you, putting his clothes back on.

You couldn't help but bury your head into the pillow that he'd laid on, smelling the familiar fragrance of his cologne and shampoo. More tears rolled down your cheeks throughout the night but you couldn't be bothered to wipe them away. You looked up at the ceiling as you tried to fall asleep, eventually ending up in a restless sleep at 3 am.

You ended up going to work the following day, not willing to give Miguel that power over you and you headed straight for his office. You were about to ask him about an anomaly report that had popped up on your gizmo when you looked up to see him holding another woman in his arms. One of the new recruits. you felt your heart fall down to your shoes as you saw him kiss her the same way that he used to do to you. His hand on the small of her back as he supported her up. You almost tripped over your own feet as you quickly shut the door, walking over to the cafeteria.

You were eating your salad alone when the same guy from before approached you, sitting down next to you. "Hey girl, how have you been?" He asked you, though he didn't seem too interested in what your answer is. "Fine," you responded, setting down your fork as you turned to look at him. He took in your expression and folded his hands under his chin. "I have the best breakup playlist if you wanna hear it over at my place," he told you and you decided on going. You knew that it was wrong to use him to replace the feelings that Miguel had once elicited on you but you had a feeling he just wanted to see you naked. No harm, no foul.

Turns out, he didn't have the perfect breakup playlist when you got over to his place. But he did have chocolate covered strawberries and a box full of condoms. The two of you sat on the couch and slowly started to make out, exploring the taste of one another. He brought one of the strawberries up to your mouth and you resisted from eating it in one bite, choosing to eat it slowly and sensually. He introduced himself as Peter, like a vast majority of the Spider Society didn't share the same name.

He placed his hand on your thigh as he kissed you, but you couldn't get into it. His lips didn't feel the same way that Miguel’s did, he didn't know how to touch you the same way that Miguel did, and he certainly didn't make you wet the same way that Miguel did. You felt bad for thinking these things as you were with someone else, but you couldn't help but wish that Miguel was the person that you were kissing. You pulled away from him and got up from the couch, brushing over your clothes.

"I'm sorry but I have to get going. I'm just not really into this," you told him, hoping that he would understand. He got up from the couch abruptly, the plate of strawberries that were on his lap sliding right off. "What's the problem? You're gonna come over and get me all turned on just to leave?!" He raised his voice at you, getting too close for comfort. "I just don't think I'm in the right headspace to be having sex with you right now," you tried to keep your voice calm but you knew that if he kept talking to you like this, you'd end up snapping.

"You fucking whore! This is exactly why you couldn't keep your stupid boyfriend interested!" He yelled at you as you were walking out the door. You came back and slapped him, your handprint evident on his cheek. "And your fucking attitude is why you can't get laid!" You snapped back, slamming the door as you left. As you stepped away from his apartment, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe he had a point. If you hadn't done enough to keep Miguel away interested. If you weren't enough to keep Miguel interested. You brushed those thoughts away and headed back to the society, eager to get to the gym to practice some boxing.

Your life had been going pretty peaceful for the past month, you managed to stop thinking about Miguel so much and you improved on your fighting skills. It was the day of Jessica’s baby shower and you felt pretty good about it even if it was a guarantee that you would have to see Miguel at the event. You walked into the party with a pink dress on, placing Jessica’s gift on a table before going to greet her.

Throughout the party, you couldn't help but feel Miguel’s eyes on you. You decided not to engage and kept your attention on Jessica, a bit jealous of how she glowed when she was with her husband. You went out to the porch to get a bit of fresh air, a drink in your hand. "You seem better," you heard behind you, Miguel approaching you. You shrugged and took a sip from your drink, not offering much to go off on. He let out a small sigh and leaned against the balcony, looking over at you.

"Look, I'm not the best with feelings and all that other shit, and I'm sorry that I made you think for a second that I wasn't in love with you. Because I love you so much that it's physically pained me to be so far away from you so long. I know that I wasn't exactly present in our relationship but I felt reassured in the fact that you would always be there for me that I forgot about you," he spoke up, lifting up your chin so you'd look at him. "So why'd you kiss that woman in your office?"

The question caused him to drop his hand from your chin, letting out a small sigh. "I tried to replace you with one of the recruits. But the truth is, I can't get over you. She doesn't feel like you, doesn't kiss like you, she probably doesn't breathe like you," he admitted and you couldn't help but let out a small, dry chuckle. "Look, I’m not expecting for you to jump back into being my girlfriend but I want you to go out on a date with me. Let me try to earn the honor of being your boyfriend again."

You were about to tell him your answer when Jessica called you both back inside for the gender reveal. You went inside as soon as she told you since you didn't want to feel like you were intruding on her day with your relationship drama. You pulled Miguel aside when the reveal ended, his attention solely on you as you spoke. "Okay. One date and we'll see how it goes."

A few days had passed by and you weren't too sure if Miguel was actually being serious with his plan since he hadn't given you any clues or anything to go off on until you found a box waiting for you at your apartment. It was the dress that you picked out for the first date you had with him. You placed the dress on and followed the clues that he'd left with the box.

You ended up at a planetarium and you noticed that Miguel had set up a picnic outside. "I thought we could talk for a little while here, get some food. I hope you don't think it's too silly," he told you, beckoning you to sit down. You sat in front of him, looking over at the selection of snacks that he'd selected. He'd chosen out your favorite snacks despite the fact that he never seemed to pay that much attention when you two were together.

The two of you ate together, sharing some of your experiences about this time apart. "What an asshole. I hope you didn't believe what he said," Miguel told you when you got the part about Peter. You stayed quiet, playing with your fingers. "I will never not be interested in you, mi vida. You're the most captivating person in every room you stay in pero I got too used to you making excuses for me," he told you, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

As the two of you were at the planetarium, you couldn't help but notice that Miguel’s gizmo hadn't beeped once. "No anomalies tonight?" you asked, slightly teasing him as the constellations appeared. "No, I'm sure there are plenty. But you're more important to me and it's time I started to treat you like that," he responded, holding your hand as he continued to watch the stars showing. You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing that your relationship needed work but you would indulge in this small act of intimacy.

Miguel kept his promise and dedicated himself to spending more time with you, treating you like a priority. It took some work at first but he eventually learned to trust other people to share the burden with him. You stepped into his office, bringing him some food since he was working late. "Hola cariño," he said as you walked in, kissing your cheek once you got close. He held you for a couple seconds before he looked down at you. "I know this isn't exactly the perfect setting, but you I was wondering if you'd let me be your boyfriend again," he spoke up after a couple seconds, gauging for your reaction.

"Of course, Miguel," you said, standing up on your tippy toes as you kissed him.

@miguelcvmslvt @juniperbutnot @s0fia4 @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @migueloharastruelove @mangoslushcrush @skulfan1 @134340ona @death-moth-art @akoyaxs @innercreationflower @m4dyy

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genshinluvr · 8 months

Text

Well, Shit.

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Toddler!Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Well, Shit. This isn't supposed to happen. How did this even happen in the first place? Yanqing was tasked to watch over you while General Jing Yuan and your traveling companions were out on a mission. Who knew it would end up with you turning into a toddler?

Note: This is a short fic. I guess this can be part 2 of "Yanqing's Babysitting Service" since I mentioned the reader getting hit in the face by Luka's arm situation in this fic. I've had this idea in my head for a while, and I think it would be a cute and fun spin-off to Yanqing's Babysitting Service. I'll link it down if you want to read it— this can be read as a standalone if you're not interested in reading the first part. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of

Word Count: 4k

Part 1 of Well, Shit. [Yanqing's Babysitting Service] (Can be read as a standalone fic)

Yanqing looks at the sight in front of him in horror before looking around to see if anyone else was around when it happened. Yanqing gulps nervously before running his fingers through his hair and closing his eyes. This cannot be happening right now. Especially when he is the one that’s tasked to watch over you while the others are away on an important mission on the Xianzhou Luofu. What could have caused this mess?

Yanqing collapses to the ground, covering his face with his hands as he tries to calm down. How would the General react to this? Heck, how would the others react to this? Everything was going well until this happened! The first time Yanqing was tasked to babysit you, you ended up in the medical center in Belobog because Luka’s arm flew off and knocked you out cold. Then again, Yanqing would rather have that happen again because it’s better than whatever the heck is going on right now!

“Please, this can’t be happening. General is going to kill me if he finds out that [Y/N]—” Yanqing’s inner monologue is interrupted by someone tugging on the sleeve of his hanfu.

Yanqing uncovers his eyes to see large eyes staring at him curiously. Standing before him is you— only it’s not really you. You’re not the adult you were. You’re a child, no, a toddler no older than three years old.

“Y-Yanqing,” you whimper out softly.

Aeons… you’re an adorable baby, and Yanqing doesn’t know how to react. Should he laugh? Should he cry? Yanqing is supposed to be the child here, not you! And yet, here you guys are— the role has switched, and Yanqing doesn’t know what to do. The others should be back from their mission in a few hours, and Yanqing has no idea how to turn you back to your normal self. Wait a minute. If you’re physically a toddler, does that mean you think like one too?

Your bottom lip starts to quiver as tears start pooling in your eyes. Yanqing’s eyes widen with panic as he gently shushes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you. Yanqing lightly bounces you, patting your back while looking around for help. You grab Yanqing’s hanfu and rest your chin on his shoulders, whimpering occasionally.

“It’s okay! Don’t cry, [Y/N]! I know it’s scary right now, but try to be strong for me, okay?” Yanqing coos, peeking at you to wipe your tear-stained cheeks.

You sniffle and nod, bottom lip jutting out. Yanqing smiles and lightly pinches your cheek before walking around the Xianzhou Luofu with you in his arms. It’s a good thing your clothes shrunk with you because Yanqing wouldn’t know what else to do if the clothes didn’t shrink with your person.

“Aw, man. What am I going to do?” Yanqing whispers. “How are we going to turn you back to normal?”

You bury your face on Yanqing’s shoulders, rubbing your eyes with your fist. Yanqing stops in his tracks and looks at you worriedly. You yawn and blink at Yanqing slowly. Fuck, was he supposed to know what that means? You begin sniffling, a small cry emitting from you. Panic kicks in as Yanqing tries to figure out what’s wrong.

Yanqing lightly pats your back and bounces you, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. “What’s wrong, [Y/N]?” Yanqing asks softly, quickly wiping the tears that threaten to roll down your cheeks.

You whimper out, “I‘m sleepy.”

“You can sleep in my arms for now, okay? I’ll find a place for you to sleep,” Yanqing coos, patting your head.

You nod glumly and rest your head on his shoulders, holding onto the fabric of Yanqing’s hanfu, and close your eyes. Yanqing isn’t around children often, but when he is around children, he’s not the one who’s dealing with the needs of children. Instead, he would be the one to stand there awkwardly while the mothers and fathers of the children tend to their needs.

Yanqing walks into the Seat of Divine Foresight with you in his arms. You have yet to fall asleep, and Yanqing is glad you haven’t cried or thrown a tantrum yet. Yanqing doesn’t know where to take you, so you can take a nap other than General Jing Yuan’s office. Mainly because there aren’t many people in the General’s office and because the General’s seat is the first place to pop up in his mind when he thinks of a place for you to nap on.

Yanqing sits you down on the seat where General Jing Yuan’s desk is, and you sprawl out on the chair before curling into a ball. Within seven minutes, you were out like a light. Yanqing sighs in relief and rubs the back of his neck as he paces back and forth in front of the white-haired General’s desk.

“What am I going to say to the General when he and the others return? I don’t know how this happened in the first place!” Yanqing screams internally.

Yanqing walks over to the chair and sits at the end of the seat, resting his chin on the armrest and sighs. Yanqing peeks at you from the corner of his eyes, making sure you’re still asleep. How in the world did you end up aging backward? You were fine earlier today until a little less than an hour ago.

The doors to the Seat of Divine Foresight open, startling the poor blond boy. General Jing Yuan, the Stellaron Hunter, the foreign merchant, the Astral Express crew, and the people visiting from Jarilo-VI enter the white-haired General’s office. Yanqing stands up and looks over at you worriedly and then at the newcomers.

Thankfully, they’re too distracted to notice Yanqing’s presence. Yanqing debates on whether he should carry you out of the General’s office without being seen or let everyone discover the predicament you and Yanqing got into. Yanqing chews on his thumbnail, watching the group converse with one another, still not noticing Yanqing’s presence.

“Yanqing! I see you and [Y/N] have returned from your day around the Luofu early,” General Jing Yuan says, startling Yanqing.

Blade crosses his arms over his chest. “Speaking of [Y/N]. Where are they?” Blade asks, raising his eyebrows at the blond boy.

Yanqing feels his heart gets caught in his throat. Yanqing laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. What is he supposed to say? It’s not like he can make an excuse and say you’re in the restroom when you’re sleeping on the General’s chair right behind him. Yanqing subtly covers you and adjusts his ponytail, still trying to find a way to answer Blade’s question.

“[Y/N] told me they will not be making an appearance until they get Immortals Delight,” Yanqing lies, internally wincing when the words come out of his mouth.

Almost everyone raises their eyebrows at Yanqing’s response. Dan Heng and Welt Yang coincidentally hold the sweet drinks up for Yanqing to see. Yanqing exhales loudly— the others mistake Yanqing’s sigh as relief rather than defeat. Yanqing purses his lips and nods slowly. Great, okay, so what is Yanqing going to do now?

It’s not like he can hide you any longer. Yanqing gestures for the others to wait a moment before turning around. Yanqing bends over to wake you up from your sleep. You crack your eyes open, whining softly. Yanqing quickly shushes you, trying his best not to panic when he knows the others are watching him with eagle eyes. Yanqing looks over his shoulders, giving the audience an awkward smile.

“Please give me a moment! Maybe turn around and don’t look yet!” says Yanqing, gesturing to them to turn and have their backs facing his and your direction.

Luocha raises his eyebrows at Yanqing, crossing his arms over his chest. “What are you hiding from us, Yanqing?” Luocha asks, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

Yanqing ignores Luocha’s question and continues to lift you and carry you in his arms. You wrap your little arms around Yanqing’s shoulders and bury your face into his neck as you try to go back to sleep.

Yanqing would have melted from the cuteness, but he’s too busy worrying about how the others are going to react to seeing a miniature version of yourself. Yanqing turns around to see the others staring at him. Yanqing bristles and glares at the group, pointing an accusing finger at everyone, ignoring the gasps and wide eyes from them.

“Hey! I told you guys to turn around and not to look yet!” Yanqing exclaims.

Sampo points at you. “Why do you have a random child in your arms? Where’s my Gumdrop, Yanqing?” Sampo demands, making his way toward the blond boy.

You peek from Yanqing’s shoulders, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles. Sampo stops in his tracks when he gets a better look at your face. You stare at Sampo and blink at the gobsmacked indigo-haired man. Sampo begins sputtering, pointing at you and looking at the group with wide eyes. You lay your head on Yanqing’s shoulder, eyes glazed over before yawning.

“[Y/N]?” Welt asks softly, tilting his head to the side.

You look at the brown-haired man and look at him curiously, mimicking the brunette by tilting your head to the side like a curious puppy. The brunette sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding when March, Dan Heng, and Caelus look at him quizzically. Despite the trio not saying anything, Welt knew what they wanted to ask.

The child in Yanqing’s arms is indeed you. Aside from the clothing, your hair is the same, and so is your face… but younger. Dan Heng looks at the nervous Yanqing, pointing at the dozing-off child in Yanqing’s arm.

Dan Heng clears his throat to grab Yanqing’s attention. “How did this happen?”

“That’s the problem, Dan Heng! I don’t know how all of this happened! One minute, [Y/N] and I were hanging around the Luofu, and the next, poof! [Y/N] is de-aged!” Yanqing explains, tapping his foot on the ground anxiously.

You squirm in Yanqing’s arms, kicking your feet lightly. Yanqing puts you on the ground before looking at the men (and March) nervously. You look around the Seat of Divine Foresight, eyes bright with wonder and curiosity. You look at the large group of very tall people before cowering in fear and hiding behind Yanqing’s legs, peeking from behind.

Caelus steps forward and squats down, smiling at you. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, [Y/N]. Do you recognize any of us aside from Yanqing?” Caelus whispers.

You grab Yanqing’s pants and nod hesitantly. Of course, you remember the really tall people! Despite turning into a toddler and not being able to think and communicate like your normal self, you recognize everyone’s face. Gepard squats beside Caelus, looking at you curiously.

“Do you know how this happened?” Gepard murmurs.

You shake your head. “No,” you mumble.

Luka pouts and turns to the others, clutching his chest. “They’re so cute and tiny! Their little ‘no,’” Luka coos, cupping his cheeks and squealing softly.

You lean against Yanqing and rub your eyes with the heel of your hand. You tug on Yanqing’s hanfu to get General Jing Yuan’s blond retainer’s attention. Yanqing looks down and sees you holding your arms up in the air. Yanqing lifts you up and carries you in his arms while you bury your face into his shoulders, mumbling into his shoulders.

March bounces over to you and Yanqing, looking at you with curiosity. You peek from Yanqing’s shoulders and look up at March. March smiles widely and waves at you, cooing softly when you shyly smile at her and wave in return. March squeals softly and pokes your cheek. You bury your face against Yanqing’s shoulders after, making March laugh.

“You’re so cute! Yanqing, let me hold [Y/N]!” March says, holding her hands out for the blond boy to hand you over to her.

Yanqing’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “What! No way! I’m not handing [Y/N] to you until they return to their normal self!” Yanqing protests, taking a step back.

March’s jaws drop, and she stomps her foot on the ground. “Huh!? Aren’t you going to feel tired if you hold [Y/N] for a long time?” March exclaims, propping her hands on her hips. “Mr. Yang! Yanqing refuses to let me hold [Y/N]!”

Yanqing and March continue to glare at each other while Welt and General Jing Yuan sigh in unison, pinching the bridge of their noses. Not only do they have to figure out how to turn you back into your normal self, but now they have to deal with March and Yanqing arguing over who gets to hold you.

General Jing Yuan clears his throat. “Yanqing, I believe you should put [Y/N] down. We should reintroduce ourselves to [Y/N] so they won’t feel uncomfortable around us despite knowing who we are,” says General Jing Yuan.

Yanqing makes a disgruntled noise before complying with the white-haired General. Yanqing puts you on the ground and holds his hand out for you to take. You place your little hand in Yanqing’s bigger hand and let the blond boy guide you to the center of the Seat of Divine Foresight.

You and Yanqing walk down the stairs— Yanqing makes sure to go slow and help you down the stairs, making sure you don’t slip or trip. You stick close to Yanqing, gazing at the group curiously. Everyone looks friendly, especially the two men holding Immortals Delight. Your eyes are glued onto the sweet drinks, tempted to ask the two men if you can have the drinks.

Luocha chuckles. “Despite turning into a child, [Y/N]’s love for Immortal’s Delight remains,” Luocha comments, turning toward Dan Heng and Welt.

You point at the drink, glancing up at Yanqing. Yanqing looks at the two men holding the beverages and at General Jing Yuan. You tug on Yanqing’s hanfu to grab his attention, silently asking if you can have the sweet drink.

Dan Heng hums, stroking his chin. “I’m not sure if someone as small as [Y/N] should be drinking two Immortal’s Delight,” Dan Heng murmurs.

Upon hearing Dan Heng’s hesitation, you pout and give Dan Heng puppy dog eyes, your bottom lips quivering. Dan Heng looks away, sighing. How can he say no to your puppy dog eyes? Dan Heng looks over at the brown-haired man, who’s also looking away from you. Welt clears his throat, not saying a thing.

You continue to point at the drink. “Please…” you trail off, blinking away the tears forming in your eyes.

Welt sighs in defeat. “Alright, you can have this drink. But you can only drink one, alright?” Welt says, walking up to you before kneeling before you.

You stare at the older man before looking at the Immortal’s Delight in his hands. One drink? I mean, it’s better than not having any, right?

You nod. “Okay,” you say softly.

Welt hands you the Immortal’s Delight, patting the top of your head as you latch onto the straw and sip the sweet beverage happily. You look at Yanqing, smiling widely. Yanqing smiles and ruffles your hair before looking at the white-haired General pleadingly. Blade points at you, his eyebrows raised. You stare at Blade, pointing at the Stellaron Hunter while looking at your blond babysitter.

“Baldie?” You squeak.

Sampo and Luka pucker their lips and look away, stifling their laughter. Blade stares at you blankly, trying to process what you just said. Were you trying to call him Bladie? Did he mishear you by any chance? Given the facial expressions on everyone’s face, Blade, in fact, did not mishear you.

Sampo whispers to Luka, “[Y/N] just called Blade ‘Baldie.’” Sampo wipes the tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he tries to keep his composure.

“And they said it with confidence, too,” Luka snickers.

You’re confused about why the others are trying to hide their laughter after you said Blade’s name, but you didn’t question it. You’re drinking Immortal’s Delight, and it tastes amazing. The drink is so good, and you want to get your tiny hands on another Immortal’s Delight.

Blade clears his throat, slightly glaring at you. “I think you mean Blade, not Baldie,” Blade corrects you.

You shake your head stubbornly, pointing at the long-haired man again. “Baldie,” you state.

Caelus nods, pointing at the now irritated Stellaron Hunter. “Maybe [Y/N] knows something that we don’t!” Caelus says, walking over to Blade and reaching for Blade’s hair, only for Blade to slap his hands away with a scowl.

You soon finish your Immortal’s Delight. Soon enough, your eyes land on the Immortal’s Delight that Dan Heng is holding. You point at the drink, glancing at Yanqing. Yanqing laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head.

“I think you’ve had enough, [Y/N]. It’s not good if you drink two Immortal’s Delight. It’ll make you feel sick,” Yanqing says, squatting down beside you.

Almost immediately, you pout and look at the blond boy with teary eyes. Yanqing starts to panic and looks at the others, alarmed. General Jing Yuan walks to you and hands you a Steamed Puffergoat Milk. You look at the drink curiously before sniffing it. You lift the cup to your lips and take a small sip of the Steamed Puffergoat Milk.

Gepard chuckles. “It seems like [Y/N] likes it,” Gepard says, watching the white-haired General and his blond retainer panic and make sure you don’t chug the Steamed Puffergoat Milk.

General Jing Yuan wipes away your milk mustache and carries you in his arms, chuckling. You wrap your arms around General Jing Yuan’s neck and rest your chin on his shoulders. The Immortal’s Delight and the Steamed Puffergoat Milk filled your stomach up really well, and now you’re in need of another nap. You yawn and close your eyes.

“Has [Y/N] eaten?” Dan Heng asks.

Yanqing nods. “That’s the thing! [Y/N] and I had something to eat before [Y/N] turned into a child. The downside is that I have no idea what caused [Y/N] to be de-aged,” Yanqing explains, crossing his arms over his chest.

March turns to look at the Xianzhou men worriedly. “There is a way to turn [Y/N] back to normal, right?” March asks. “I don’t know if I can handle seeing my best friend as a toddler for more than a day.”

You peek at March, blinking at the pink-haired girl. You yawn again and rub your eyes with your knuckles. General Jing Yuan pats your head and has you rest your head on his shoulders. You comply and snuggle up against the white-haired General.

“No need to fret. We will try to find the solution to bring [Y/N] back to their normal self,” Luocha says, giving the pink-haired girl a reassuring smile.

It shouldn’t be hard to find the solution, right? You being a toddler for a few days doesn’t sound so bad. So far, you’ve been a pretty good kid aside from your love for sugar, especially your love for Immortal’s Delight and now Steamed Puffergoat Milk, thanks to General Jing Yuan. Not only that, but you have grown quite close with the General’s blond retainer.

You’re an absolute angel to Yanqing, but you can be a little bit of a pain in the ass to the others. Remember how it was mentioned that you’re a pretty good kid? Yeah, well, you’re a good toddler for selected people. You continued to call Blade “Baldie” despite the number of times you have been corrected by the visibly miffed Stellaron Hunter.

“Do you think [Y/N] is messing with Blade?” Gepard asks, watching the long-haired Stellaron Hunter chase you around the Xianzhou Luofu while you’re giggling mischievously.

Sampo nods. “Oh, for sure! There’s no way [Y/N] doesn’t know what they’re doing,” Sampo replies, sipping on his Immortal’s Delight.

Blade manages to grab you by your biceps and yanks you up. You thrash around in Blade’s grasp, face scrunching up with annoyance. Blade ignores your kicks and tosses you over his shoulders. You grumble and lightly punch his back, which feels like a thump to Blade. General Jing Yuan stops in his tracks and raises his eyebrows at Blade.

“I see you’re not too fond of [Y/N],” General Jing Yuan comments, smirking at the annoyed Stellaron Hunter.

Blade huffs, “They do nothing but cause trouble and drink Immortal’s Delight until they get cavities.”

Welt walks to Blade and holds his hands out. “Here, hand them to me if you don’t want to deal with [Y/N]’s shenanigans anymore,” Welt says.

Blade stares at Welt and then at the older man’s hand before walking off, leaving Welt standing there quizzically. General Jing Yuan chuckles while Welt rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. Welt was merely offering to take you out of Blade’s hair, and yet Blade didn’t want to hand you over. For someone who isn’t too fond of the toddler version of yourself, Blade sure has a funny way of showing his distaste for your toddler self.

“How much longer is [Y/N] going to be a child for? Don’t get me wrong, [Y/N] is adorable! But I miss messing with March with [Y/N] by my side,” Caelus says, frowning.

March does a double take, glaring at the silver-haired man. “You and [Y/N] have been teaming up to mess with me?!” March screeches, propping her hands on her hips while glaring at him.

Caelus opens his mouth to reply when he sees a familiar face walk into the room. Caelus nudges March and gestures toward the long-haired Aeon. Nanook walks over to you and Blade, snatching you off of Blade’s shoulders and holding you to eye level, your feet dangling in the air. You and Nanook stare at one another in silence.

“You ate that dessert, didn’t you?” Nanook mutters, eyes narrowing.

Luka looks at Nanook skeptically. “Huh? You knew what turned [Y/N] into a child the entire time!?”

Nanook ignores Luka’s question and continues to stare at you. You smile at Nanook sheepishly and nod. Nanook sighs, giving you a disapproving look. You pout at Nanook and kick your feet in the air. Nanook tosses you up in the air before catching you in his arms. It happened way too fast for the others to comprehend what had happened.

“Make sure not to eat something you’re not familiar with, alright?” Nanook says.

You sigh and nod. “Okay, I won’t. But can you really blame me? It looks like a regular Xianzhou dessert, and I didn’t think it would turn me into a toddler!” You say, attempting to get out of Nanook’s arms.

“Let this be a lesson for you not to eat too many sweets. It’s not good for you, especially Immortal’s Delight,” Nanook says, looking over at Mr. Yang and Dan Heng with a pointed look.

You reluctantly agree to Nanook’s comment. You can cut back on the sweets, but you’re not sure if you can cut back on the number of Immortal’s Delight you ingest. March stomps up to you, her hands on her hips and her eyebrows furrowing. You can practically see steam coming from her ears.

“You have some explaining to do! You pull pranks on me with Caelus!?” March asks.

Your eyes widen, and you peek over March’s shoulders, looking at Caelus. Caelus smiles at you sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. Well, shit. Just when you thought that turning into a toddler was bad enough, dealing with March’s wrath is even worse.

You turn to Nanook, whispering, “Can you turn me into a toddler again? Just so I can get away from March’s wrath.”

“No can do, Little One,” Nanook replies.

You groan and look at March with a sheepish smile while she continues to glare at you, tapping her feet on the ground while waiting for you to give your side of the story.

Note: I start school soon! Yay! 🥲 I am officially a senior in university, and that means I need to focus on school and try to graduate on time. I'm not sure if people read notes at the end of my fics, but I wanted to let you all know that I'm going to be on hiatus, meaning the Genshin and HSR isekai fics will be paused. I'm going to try to post something every now and then, but I (and the isekai fanfics for both Genshin and HSR) will be on hiatus. I'll announce it in a separate post soon. Since school is starting soon, this will be the last time I post invite links to my Discord server, and I will not be giving out invite links after the link expires. If you want to join, you can click the temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for the HSR one-shot series: @ashwasherelol, @mompt2, @elegantnightblaze, @lunavixia, @jadedist, @reversearrowhead, @pinksaiyans, @aurelia-xyt, @lilliansstuff, @starrry-angel, @kaoyamamegami, @kodzuvk, @for3very0urs, @a-cosmicdawn, @g3n0dtt, @theblades, @wntrsblvd, @raaawwwr, @immahuman, @irisxiel, @siaracarroll, @crazydreamcat, @sen-nes, @sagekun, @orichalcumthief, @dyingsweetmackerel, @rosiesareblue, @ichikanu, @undecidingfate, @asoulsreverie, @angelmican, @misdollface, @4-34-am, @sxftiebee, @hispasian-otaku, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @vox34, @tsukkikeisimp, @inapileofbooke

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#Honkai Star Rail x reader #Honkai Star Rail imagine #Honkai Star rail fanfiction #Honkai Star Rail fanfic #HSR x reader #HSR imagine #HSR fanfiction #HSR fanfic #Dan Heng x reader #Gepard Landau x reader #Sampo Koski x reader #Welt Yang x reader #Blade x reader #Jing Yuan x reader #Luocha x reader #Caelus x reader #Nanook x reader #Luka x reader #genshinluvr

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fanfics-and-love · 1 year

Text

Reclaiming a Legacy

Ghostface!Amber Freeman x reader

Not my gif

Warning(s): canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood

Word count: 4k words

Summary: You knew someone was behind the new ghostface kills, but you could have never guessed it was your girlfriend, and that the reason behind everything was you, and your past

Request: Can you write something with ghost face amber x reader. ask

A/N: I wanted to give my girl Amber a better motive bc she deserves it✨

masterlist

You knew your girlfriend was a bit of a bitch sometimes, but never a murderer. Sure, she was rude and probably lacked common decency, but when you two were alone, she was kind and sweet.

There was no way she could be ghostface.

And that was what you told Mindy, after the third time that day in which she had questioned you about Amber.

“Mindy,” you said, exasperated. “I love you. I really do, but if you keep insinuating my girlfriend is a killer I’m going to kick your ass.”

“I’m not,” Mindy said, in a tone that told you she was actually aiming at that, toeing the question but not saying it out loud. “I’m just saying, out of all of us…”

“It can also be the nerd obsessed with horror movies who’s related to one of the legacies,” you shot back. “Or the big sister that has suddenly come back after years of no contact. It can be anyone.”

“Sure thing,” Mindy said, rolling her eyes. “But if anyone would want to kill Wes…”

“No one would want to kill Wes,” you said, slamming shut your locker. “He was a good kid. No one held grudges against him. He was chosen because life isn’t fucking fair.”

You cleared your throat when you noticed kids around the hall staring at you. Great, you were going around school screaming about the unfairness of life; as if you needed people to suspect you and your group of friends more.

“Okay. Sorry,” Mindy said, putting a hand on your shoulder. You almost shook it off, still pissed off at her, but with everything that was going on you weren’t sure who could be the next victim, so instead you hugged her.

“I’m sorry too,” you said, pulling away. “It’s just— everything is too stressful. I can’t stand it.”

“I get it,” she said. “I’m sorry. I just want to discover who the fucker is so we can all be safe.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m gonna hang out with Amber and help her with the party, so I’ll see you later. ‘Kay?”

“Okay,” she kissed your cheek. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

“Stop fucking in my couch, horny fuckers,” Amber said, pushing two kids away from said couch.

The party was in full swing, almost everyone from school within Amber’s house walls. You thought of Wes, and how he’d take people remembering him with a party. He would have probably hated it, but it had been Amber’s idea, and it was hard to convince her not to do something once she had put her mind to it.

“Hey,” you said, glad you had finally found your girlfriend. It was hard to miss her, considering her attitude filled every room she was in, but parties like the ones she threw were so overwhelming even she could easily disappear in the crowd.

“There you are,” Amber smiled, shortening the distance between the two of you. She rested the red cup in her hand on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around you, nose caressing your neck. “Mm… I’ve missed you,” she said, pulling away to give you a kiss.

“You just saw me,” you giggled, standing on your tiptoes to give her another kiss. She smiled, pulling you even closer to kiss your cheek.

“What? Can’t I miss my girlfriend?” She raised an eyebrow, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Of course you can,” you said, wrapping your arms around her neck. She rested her head on your neck, kissing it softly. “What got you so happy?”

“I’m throwing a party and I have you in my arms,” Amber said, pulling away. There was a glee in her eyes that made your bones chill. “What else could I want?”

“A lot, actually,” you said. Despite how close you two were, it was still somewhat hard to hear her over the music coming from the kitchen. “A million dollars, three hundred puppies, world peace…”

“Nah,” she said, smirking. “I still prefer you.”

You blushed at that, kissing her again. “You dork.”

“A dork you love making out with.”

“That I do,” you smiled, tangling your hands into Amber’s hair as she put her lips on yours.

“You’re so hot,” she said, kissing your jaw. You moaned, tilting your head to the side to give her more space. “Fuck. I love you, baby,” she said. Her voice was sweet and velvety, just like how it was when she talked with you on the phone. You loved these moments where she was vulnerable; it made your heart skip a beat.

“I love you too,” you said. Amber was kissing your neck again, and you tightened your hold on her hair when she began to suck on your neck.

“You do?” She asked, pulling away. You were a little taken back by the sudden movement. “You love me?”

“Wha— of course I do,” you said, looking into her eyes. There was something there, swimming with the glee in the brown waves of her irises, something that made you want to run away from her arms. Instead, you pulled her closer. “I love you.”

“Even if I was the killer?” You tensed, trying to step away from her. She shook her head, dragging your body into hers. “Would you?”

“What the fuck, Amber?” You asked. Mindy’s voice came into the front of your mind; Do you think your girlfriend is capable of killing someone? “Are you for real?”

“Of course not,” Amber said, kissing your forehead. She sighed in anger when she noticed you were still tense. “Relax, babe. I’m just fucking with you.”

“Don’t joke about things like that, Am,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder. “It’s not funny.”

“Jesus,” she said, stroking your back. “Don’t be such a bitch. I was just playing.”

“Let’s just drop the subject, alright?”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Amber said. She was swaying you softly, and the motion was helping lower your frantic heartbeat. “Would you?”

“Uh?” You raised your head.

“Would you still love me if I was the killer?”

“Fucking hell, Amber.”

“Would you?” She repeated. You remembered those random questions she would sometimes ask, out of the blue— would you still love me if I was a worm? Would you still love me if I took shits the size of cars? Would you stay with me if I lost all my teeth?

But that question… it felt different somehow. Like a test you weren’t even aware you were taking.

Would you still love her if she was ghostface?

“Of course I would still love you,” you said, hoping it was all just one of those times she would ask stupid questions.

She smiled, all perfectly lined white teeth popping out in glee. You were taken aback by her happiness, and even more when she pulled you into a passionate kiss. It left you breathless. When she moved away, you could still see the happiness dancing in her face. She looked like a kid that had gotten away with stealing a cookie from the kitchen while their parents weren’t watching.

“Oh, look,” she said, moving away from you. You were momentarily confused at the loss of her warmth. “Tara is here.”

━━━ • 𖥸 �� ━━━

The phrase “Welcome to act three” changed your life. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you thought as you hid from your girlfriend, Liv’s blood still fresh in your face. You had plans for the future, in which you moved into the city with Amber, and graduated college, and then got a nice job and got married. You couldn’t have planned for this. Who would?

Amber was ghostface. And you had been too blind to see the truth. If you made it out alive, you knew Mindy would never shut up about it.

How could you have been so goddamn stupid?

“Y/N.”

You turned to your side, seeing Sam kneeling beside the sofa, hiding away from Amber as she dragged someone into the kitchen. Sam raised her hand and gestured for you to go with her, and you did without even thinking. When you reached the older girl, you grabbed her arm, looking into her eyes.

“Fucking hell,” you said. You couldn’t even blink; it felt like your eyelashes had been glued to your face.

“Sh,” Sam whispered, moving closer. You could see her hands were shaking as she looked around. A gunshot was heard, followed by a ringing so deafening you closed your eyes as you covered your ears, cradling your face in your hands. “Fuck.”

“She killed someone else,” you said, still trying to wrap your mind around how she meant ghostface and also Amber.

“Ri—” Sam took a deep breath. “Richie. I— I heard his voice right before— before she—”

“Fuck,” you said. “Sam…”

“Y/N,” Amber called from the kitchen in a singsong voice. “Baby, where are you?”

Sam put her hand over your lips, pulling you closer into the sofa, as if it would magically cover the two of you. You saw Amber enter the living room, wearing the infamous ghostface robe. A chill went down your body at the sight of the blood on her face.

“Baby—”

Tara appeared then, hitting Amber with one of her crutches. Sam went quick into action, getting up and kicking away the gun that had fallen on the ground.

“Bitch,” Amber said, grabbing a handful of Tara’s jacket and pushing her away. You ran towards the girl, helping her sit up. Tara had fallen face first, and it looked like she had broken her nose, judging by the blood running down her chin.

“Fuck you,” Sam said, grabbing Amber and throwing her to the ground. She eyed the gun the same time Amber did, but you knew Sam was cursed; she had pushed Amber right into where the gun was.

“Not so fast, bitch,” Amber said, gun in hand. Sam moved to stand in front of Tara, and all you could do was stare at your girlfriend. “Baby,” she said, turning to look at you. “Come here.”

“Am—”

“Come here,” she repeated, voice sweet. You could see her finger, pressing harder onto the gun’s trigger. If you didn’t move fast, she was going to shoot Sam.

“Okay,” you said, raising your hands. You walked towards Amber, allowing her to grab your arm and turn you around, pushing you into her body.

“Ah. Much better,” she smiled, kissing your cheek. “Now we just have to wait for the bitch to show up. I’m guessing she’s close, right, Samantha?”

You saw Sam’s hand hold tighter on her phone. “How do you know about Sidney?”

“Oh, honey,” she laughed. “If Sidney is anything, it is predictable. I’m guessing she has already figured out whose house is this, and is coming with Gale to save the day, as always.”

“You’re sick in the head,” Tara said. Blood was still dripping from her face, and you were thankful when Sam held her; she looked like she was going to pass out.

“Haven’t you heard, Tara?” Amber asked. She was pushing you away from them and towards the stairs, her grip on your shoulders so hard you knew it would bruise. “We all go a little mad sometimes.”

“Fuck you,” Tara said. You admired her— she could barely stand still yet she was facing off a killer with a gun in hand; you, instead, did nothing as she manhandled you around the house. If only you could do something to stop her…

“Fuck me?” Amber laughed. “You little shit. I kept you alive and this is how you repay me?”

“Should’ve killed me,” Tara said. The girl looked terrifying, with a bloody mouth and eyes opened wide.

“Okay,” Amber said, aiming the gun towards Tara. You watched as her finger pulled the trigger, and didn’t think twice before slamming your body against her, pushing her into the ground. The bullet hit the ceiling instead of Tara’s forehead. “What the fuck?”

“Run!” Sam said, rushing towards your side to pull you up. With your help, she carried Tara upstairs, where you hid in one of the guest rooms.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. You were leaning against the door, breathing fast. “I can’t believe— fuck.”

“How are you?” Sam asked, always the protector.

“How am I? Look at Tara. I think she’s got a concussion.” Sam turned around to see her sister lying on the bed. She was resting on the side, and even though her nose had stopped bleeding, she still looked too out of it. “We should hide her,” you said.

“What?”

“We can’t stay here,” you said. You could hear the front door opening, and Amber screaming. What the hell was she doing? “She’s going to come looking for us. Tara can barely move. She needs to stay somewhere hidden.”

“She needs a fucking hospital,” Sam said, harshly.

“Yeah, but she can’t really get help until we stop Amber. She might kill the people in the ambulance.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded, swallowing hard as she looked at her sister. Running a hand through her hair, she looked around. Soon enough, your eyes met. “The closet,” you said at the same time.

You heard gunshots, followed by a door being slammed shut. You looked at Sam, and took a deep breath. “Take care of Tara.” You ran downstairs, closing the guest room’s door behind you. You hoped Sidney and Gale were okay, and that everything was over. Instead, someone dressed in a ghostface costume greeted you on the last step, making you almost fall.

“Hello, Y/N,” ghostface said. He was using a voice changer. “Fancy seeing you here.” Ghostface pushed at your legs, making you trip. When the person grabbed you by the waist and pushed into their chest, you knew immediately who it was.

“Amber,” you said. You felt tears in your eyes as you walked into the kitchen. Richie —holy shit, Richie was the other ghostface— was holding down Sidney. When he saw her, he threw her another piece of rope.

“Tie her up and go find Samantha,” Amber said. Without even looking at you, she tied your hands together.

“I’m fucking trying,” Richie said. The rope in his hand was being wrapped around Sidney’s hands. What the fuck were they doing?

“Jesus, you’re useless,” Amber said, taking off her mask. “I’ll fucking do it. Go find that bitch before she ruins everything.” Richie nodded, but still stayed until Sidney’s hands were tied. Only then did he leave, pushing the woman into Gale’s body. You followed shortly after, falling into the two injured girls.

“You won’t win,” Sidney said. You were momentarily surprised by her calmness, but of course, she was Sidney Prescott; she had probably gone through worse at the hands of ghostface and survived to tell the tale; this was probably a normal Tuesday night for her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Amber said, raising her gun.

“You never win,” she went on. “You think you do, then you make some mistake and it all goes to shit. I’ve seen it happen before, four times. It’s better if you just untie us and let us call the police.”

“I’m gonna win,” Amber said, moving closer to her. “I’m going to fucking win, okay?”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Gale spoke. It petrified you how scared she sounded. Was this really the way you died? “You could be the first ghostface that doesn’t die. I could write about you.”

“And what? Call me the bitch that killed your ex-husband while I rot in prison?” Amber laughed. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You really want your girlfriend to see you die?” Gale asked. You were taken aback by her words. Of course she would go for manipulation, she was a writer after all. It surprised you when you saw Amber hesitate, lowering her gun slightly as she looked at you with dark brown eyes.

“I’m doing this for her,” she smiled then, all doubt cleared from her face.

“Ah, so that’s your motive,” Sidney said, sounding annoyed. “Love. I think that’s a new one.”

“You shut your fucking mouth,” Amber said, aiming the gun back at Sidney.

“Here she is,” Richie said in a singing voice. You heard struggles, and then he entered the kitchen, dragging Sam with him.

“Perfect,” Amber said. “What about Tara?”

“Passed out in the bed,” Richie said. Sam groaned in pain as she was pushed to the floor in front of you. “Tied her up and locked the door. Caught this one,” he kicked Sam on the stomach “trying to hide her.”

“Aw,” Amber said, in a mocking soft voice. “Aren’t you the perfect sister?” Richie laughed at her words, stepping away from Sam.

“Time for the big finale,” Richie said.

“Tara is tied up, then, right?” Amber asked. Richie nodded, a gleeful look on his face. “And Chad is gone too?”

“A bullet between the eyes,” Richie laughed gleefully.

“Good,” Amber said. The next second, she shot Richie in the head. All four of you stared in shock. Your ears ringed, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the loud gunshot or the sight in front of you. Richie fell to the ground, blood seeping out of his head and mouth. You almost threw up at the sight of his gray matter laying on the ground. “Now, the real finale,” Amber smiled, turning back to you. “Who wants to die first? Uh?”

“Me,” you said, sitting up straighter. It was about time you were the brave one.

“Oh, baby,” Amber said, chuckling softly. “No. No, you’re not going to die. You and I are going to survive, and we’re gonna be the final girls.”

“Jesus,” Gale said. “Are you out of your mind? All of this for… for what? To be the new Romeo and Juliet?”

“Romeo and Juliet die at the end, you dumb bitch,” Amber said. “No. This is about Samantha.”

“My father,” Sam said. Even though you couldn’t fully see her, the sadness was clear in her eyes. It wasn’t fair, all the guilt she would carry with her if she made it out alive.

“Yes,” Amber nodded. “Your father, your grandma… you have a pretty crazy family, Samantha. Once this is over, all we have to tell the cops is that you wanted to live up your father’s legacy. Once they took a look at your pills and therapist notes, there’ll be no questions about who’s the killer.”

“There’s always two ghostfaces,” Gale said.

“And the other one is right there,” Amber pointed at Richie’s body. “You convinced your boyfriend to kill those people as an act of love, and he did. Good thing I was there to stop you before you killed Y/N.”

Sidney laughed, looking at Amber with almost pity in her face. “And why would Y/N be Sam’s target? Just because? For this to work, it’d have to be Tara.”

“No, no,” Amber said, shaking her head. “You’re not taking everything into consideration.”

“We’ve been through this before,” Gale said. “You think you can outsmart us?”

“I’ve already done it,” Amber said. “Because I know something you don’t. Something that explains everything,” she shook her head, smiling. She looked crazed.

“Jesus,” Sidney said. “You’re even worse than Jill. Stop with the dramatics.”

“Y/N is Stu Macher’s daughter.”

“What?” Gale asked, looking at you. You felt as confused as she did.

“Amber, what the fuck are you talking about?” You asked.

“Stu is—”

“In an asylum,” Amber said. Something shifted in Sidney’s face, something that told you she already knew. “Locked up for years. I know what you’re gonna say,” she chuckled. “How could he have a daughter?” Amber kneeled down beside Sidney. “That’s what I told myself for months when I saw the papers. I thought, “but how? It’s not possible”, until I realized that it could be pretty easy to explain since Y/N’s mom is a psychologist.”

“What is with people in this town and leaving important documents just laying around?” You murmured.

“You can’t be serious,” Sidney said, interrupting you. “How…?”

“Why do you think she got fired?” Amber looked at you. “For sleeping with a patient. With Stu. C’mon, Sidney, I thought by now you were used to secret family members appearing out of nowhere.”

“So that’s it?” Gale asked. “You find some papers and you decide to start killing people?”

“No!” Amber said. You flinched at the scream. “No. Of course not. I had to check everything. This was too big to just say unless I knew for sure. So I investigated, and once I was sure, I searched for a partner online. Someone who would appreciate this plot. Someone who would know how important Stu Macher being alive truly was,” she eyed Richie, on the ground with blood slowly escaping his body.

“Plot? This isn’t a fucking movie!” Gale said.

“It will be, one day. The two daughters of the first Woodsboro massacre killers, facing off each other. Isn’t it perfect?” Amber turned to look at Sam. “Spoiler alert, you lose.”

“You’re sick in the head,” Sidney said. “You know the danger you’re putting her in? People are going to chase her like they will with Sam.”

“But Sam doesn’t have me,” Amber said. “I’m always going to be there to protect Y/N. Always.”

“Not if I kill you,” Gale said. Within a second, she was up, taking advantage of the surprise movement to throw Amber to the ground. Sidney got up next, grabbing a knife to cut the rope, and Sam, to your surprise, ran out of the kitchen and upstairs. You watched everything unfold before your eyes landed on the gun that had once again fallen.

“Stop!” You screamed, gun in hand as you pointed it at the three women.

Amber had Gale by the hair and Sidney had the knife in her hand, raised to stab Amber in the chest.

“Baby,” Amber said, pushing Gale into Sidney’s body. “Lower the gun.”

“Y/N,” it was Sidney this time, looking at you hesitantly. As if you were going to shoot her. Were you? “Don’t listen to Amber. You can’t be sure.”

“I would never lie to her,” Amber said. She turned her face to look at you. “You know I wouldn’t. You know it, baby. I’ve told you nothing but the truth.”

Your hands shook, but you didn’t lower the gun.

“I love you,” Amber said, in that soft voice you only heard late at night, head pressed on her neck while she ran her hands through your hair. “I’ve done this for you, so you could be the new Sidney— so you wouldn’t have to live under the shadow of Samantha.”

“Am…”

“She’s lying,” Gale said. “Once this is over, the moment you do something she doesn’t like you’ll be next.”

“I’d never hurt her,” Amber said through gritted teeth, grabbing Gale by the shirt. “I’ve done nothing but take care of her.”

You knew your time was running out. Sam had probably opened the guest room upstairs already, and once she was done checking in on Tara, she would come back, more than likely with a weapon. She would be ready to kill Amber, and Sidney and Gale will help her.

Did you want them to kill her? Was it an honor reserved just for you?

Were you going to kill everyone but Amber, and save her?

You weren’t sure, not as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready for your next move. Still, you pulled the trigger and hoped to god you had made the right choice.

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman imagine #scream franchise #scream 5 #scream v #ghostface #ghostface!amber freeman #ghostface!amber #ghostface!amber x reader #mikey madison #tara carpenter #sidney prescott #sam carpenter #Reclaiming a Legacy

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elliesbelle · 11 months

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 8

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, lesbian flirtationship?, mentions of kissing, mentions of a weapon (it's just ellie's switchblade), descriptions of injuries and bruising, abby is hot and cocky (duh), minors do not interact

word count: 4k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

You’d spent the last few days texting back and forth with Abby. She hadn’t changed much since your freshman year, still confident and charismatic and charming as always.

It was nice, taking a step outside of your comfort zone. It had been a while since you’d regularly socialized with someone other than your usual group of friends. The older you got, it seemed harder to feel comfortable getting close to new people.

But Abby made it easy, keeping things casual and light. She’d ask about your day, talk about hers, and inquire what you were up to. She’d flirt every now and again, and you’d cautiously flirt right back, but she never pushed much further than that.

You hadn’t told anyone yet about reconnecting with Abby. The girls from the Wilson Crew would no doubt be incredibly supportive, having partly seen you going through some of the disastrous aftermath with Ellie. But as loving and encouraging as they were, having six girls simultaneously asking you questions and being loud & abrasive about your love/sex life was too overwhelming a thought.

You considered disclosing your secret to Dina. But though you loved her deeply and she was the closest thing you’ve ever had to a sister, Dina was just a tad bit judgy. She wouldn’t say anything, but after a few years of knowing her and her mannerisms, you’d recognized her pursed lips and her one raised eyebrow as her judgy face. And right now, the last thing you needed was to be evaluated when you’re trying to break from behind the walls you’ve built the past couple of years.

After musing over it for a while, you kick yourself for not realizing right away who it was that you could confide in.

Jesse.

Jesse was an easygoing person, effortless to chat with and always cracking jokes. But when it came down to it, he cared about you and knew how to listen, judgment-free. You used to have long talks with him back in freshman year, separate from Dina and Ellie, while you watched old movies or played video games together. After Rafael died, he made sure constantly that you stayed stable and took care of yourself. He’s never failed to be a great friend to you.

Thursday morning, you make the decision to text Jesse as you get ready to leave for your first morning class.

You let out an audible “uhhh” as you remember that Jesse shared an apartment with Ellie. Jesse seems to suddenly remember as well a few seconds later.

You chuckle as you read Jesse’s last text before putting your phone in your pocket and walking out the front door of your apartment.

“So, you free tomorrow night?” Abby asks.

“Mm, that depends.”

“On?”

“On why you’re asking.” You reply cheekily.

Abby chuckles.

You were making your way to your Race and Sexuality in Popular Culture class and Abby, who supposedly had some time to kill, was walking you over.

“Oh, just curious.” Abby says.

“Uh-huh, just curious.” You reply, rolling your eyes playfully.

You stroll down the brick path holding a large textbook to your chest that you couldn’t stuff into your backpack with the rest of your things. Abby’d offered to carry it for you, but you insisted that you were a “strong and independent woman who didn’t need anyone to carry their books for them,” to which Abby laughed.

“Oh, I’m just fucking around,” Abby continues. “Wanted to see if you wanted to maybe come to this bar with me and my friends. It’s pretty close by.”

“Wow, getting drunk? On a weekday, Miss Anderson?” You joke.

“Friday night counts as a weekend, you weirdo.” Abby chuckles.

“Which bar is it?”

“The Bow and Arrow on Waverly Street.”

You purse your lips at this.

The Bow and Arrow was a lesbian bar that was near the university’s campus. It was a pretty small place with a nice set-up: friendly and welcoming bartenders, TVs that played a variety of movies or that were connected to old consoles for patrons to play retro games on, and a spacious dance floor on the rooftop.

Last year when you were still freshly heartbroken, you’d gone to the Bow and Arrow with a few friends from the Wilson Crew. Somehow, you ended up making out with a random girl in a dark corner who’d been eyeing you all evening. But after they’d asked if you wanted to go home with them, you chickened out and muttered a quick apology before rejoining your friends.

Before then, you’d gone a few times during your freshman year. But after one fateful December night that involved a random stranger, the dance floor, and Ellie, you didn’t frequent it much afterwards.

Abby doesn’t notice your hesitation, which allows you a second to come up with a calculated response.

“Do you mind if I think about it? Tomorrow’s kind of a long day for me. Might be too exhausted after all my classes.” You say.

“Sure, that’s totally fine.” Abby replies. “No pressure at all. If you wanna have a chill night, you could also come over and we can watch a movie or something instead.”

You smile at her thoughtfulness.

“You’re sweet,” You say. “But it’s okay, don’t change your plans ‘cause of me. You should go anyway and have fun with your friends.”

“Still trying to avoid hanging out alone with me, huh?” Abby jokes.

You roll your eyes and smile.

“Yes, that’s exactly why I’m letting you walk me to class today.” You reply sarcastically. “Definitely trying to avoid being around you right now, Anderson.”

“Oh, you’re ‘letting me’ walk you to class, are you?”

“Yup,” You say. “Now leave me, I no longer require your services, Miss Anderson.” You joke, gesturing for her to leave the opposite direction.

“Bossy.” Abby chuckles but continues to walk alongside you.

It’s a slightly chillier day today as October begins to slowly approach November. You’d opted for an oversized sweater that used to belong to your cousin Rafael (it had his alma mater stitched onto the front and your uncle had gifted it to you sometime after his passing), a beanie, and a pair of thick leggings. When you’d met up with Abby, you pretended not to notice her eyeing your ass in your leggings for half a second when she first spotted you.

“Alright,” Abby continues. “How about tonight? You busy?”

“Can’t tonight, sorry.” You say. “Meeting up with a friend.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, just having dinner with my friend Jesse.”

“Oh, Jesse Chang, right?”

You blink at Abby’s recognition.

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Just seen him around and all.” Abby explains. “He’s at the gym sometimes when I’m there. He lives with that friend of yours, Ellie, right? They’re both there together a lot.”

Your face drops at the mention of Ellie, but Abby has her eyes straight ahead and doesn’t catch it.

“Oh, and I see him sometimes playing guitar on the quad.” Abby continues. “He’s pretty good.”

You quickly compose yourself.

“Y-yeah. He’s known to play since he was a kid. A, uh, a family friend taught him growing up.” You say.

You feel a pang in your heart. Joel taught Jesse how to play the guitar when he was younger. Jesse and Ellie.

That summer that you’d spent in Jackson, Ellie’d told Joel during a Miller/Williams dinner night about how you were musically inclined. You’d felt embarrassed but you remember thinking that it was sweet how excited he got. Joel then proceeded to gush all about how he taught Ellie and Jesse how to play the guitar when they were just teenagers.

Jesse’d already known how to play piano from lessons he’d been taking and was curious to branch out (Ellie made a comment that he just wanted to learn because playing guitar looked so much cooler to girls). According to Joel, he had been a good, attentive student. When Ellie found out Joel was teaching Jesse, she competitively insisted on being taught too.

You remember chuckling when Joel’d told you how much of an impatient and temperamental student Ellie turned out to be. She’d easily get frustrated when she forgot a chord and curse herself out when her fingers would slip to play discordantly. But along with her hotheadedness came passion, and Ellie ended up teaching herself quickly into mastering the instrument anyway.

Something inside ached when the memories of Jesse and Ellie casually strumming on their guitars flooded back. You’d watched in admiration as they fucked around and even occasionally wrote songs together. Sometimes you’d sing along to whatever they’d be playing, and they would joke about how they should start a band (to which you’d tease that Ellie didn’t play nice with others to handle being in an organized group).

“That’s nice.” Abby says, interrupting your trance. “You’re pretty close to him?”

“Oh yeah,” You reply. “I’d say he’s one of my closest friends here.”

You quickly feel guilty saying that out loud, knowing that you’d pulled away from both him and Dina the past year.

“That’s pretty sweet,” Abby smiles. “He seems like a really chill guy.”

“He’s the best.” You say, smiling back.

“Well, I won’t get in the way of some bestie bonding then,” Abby says. “But at least consider coming out with us tomorrow night?”

You’re approaching the building of your next class now with just a couple of minutes to spare. You grip your textbook to your chest tightly, almost like it's a source of stress relief. Going out and actually being in public with Abby was a nerve-wracking concept. But you don’t want to disappoint her either.

“I will,” You say. “I promise.”

“Good.” Abby smiles.

“Now, go and get out of here,” You tell her. “You’re gonna be late for your next class.”

“Why are you always so eager to get rid of me?” Abby teases.

You roll your eyes, amused.

“You’re just so sickenly nice to me that I can’t stand to be around you.”

“Get used to it then.” Abby replies.

“Mm,” You muse. “We’ll see.”

Abby chuckles.

“Alright, well, I’ll text you.” She says, waving as she walks off. “See you, pretty girl.”

You feel blood rushing to your cheeks at this flirty comment as you wave her off. Your grip on your textbook loosens before you turn and proceed into the building.

“Another strawberry milkshake? Really?” You ask as the server walks away.

“What?! I’m having a craving!”

You chuckle before taking a sip of your water.

Ever the responsible and reliable friend, Jesse was ten minutes early to the diner for your meet-up. He’d pulled you into one of his classic bear hugs when you came in, and your heart jolted and your eyes teared up. You’ve really missed being around him.

“So, how’ve you been, kid?” He asks, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms.

“Mm, short or long answer?”

“Long,” He smiles. “I wanna know everything.”

You return his smile uncertainly.

“Don’t really know how to start, Jess.”

“How ‘bout telling me how classes have been going for you?”

You go on for a while about how you’d been handling your schoolwork, Jesse occasionally chiming in about his own classes. He laughed at your anecdotes and asked all the right questions at all the right times. Your orders were placed in front of you as you were complaining about your Women in Classical Antiquity professor who you swore has a vendetta against you.

“Then she looks at me like I’m crazy!” You complain before stuffing your face with a slice of chocolate chip pancake.

“Yeah, a buddy of mine had her last year, and apparently half the shit she was teaching made no sense.” Jesse replies, licking whipped cream off the top of his milkshake.

“It doesn’t!” You exclaim. “Like, I’m sorry that I corrected you in front of the rest of your students, but like? Do your job right the first time then, bitch!”

Jesse guffaws as you pour more maple syrup over your pancakes.

“Dude, she’s gonna fail you for sure if you keep it up.”

“Fail me for knowing more about Greek mythology than she does,” You grumble. “Get me up on that podium, and we’ll all learn something for a change.”

You continue your tirade for a couple of minutes until the conversation shifts from your classes to your friends.

“It’s so cute that they’ve been together since freshman year,” You say, discussing your friends Tara and Astrid who were celebrating their two-year anniversary in a couple of months. “Although I guess to you and D, two years is nothing.”

“Hey, still an impressive feat. And I definitely agree that they’re real cute together.” Jesse replies.

“Nice to know love is real after all.” You joke.

Jesse smiles at this but then suddenly looks thoughtful before speaking.

“How about you, dude?”

“What about me?” You ask, finishing off the last of your pancakes and attacking your side of grits.

“How’s your love life been going?”

You pause. This is exactly why you’d invited Jesse out, to confide in him. And yet somehow, you feel your mouth go dry and your heartbeat rapidly increase.

Jesse notices your hesitation and puts his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands.

“We don’t have to talk about it, bud. But I’m here if you need someone. Judgment-free zone.”

You give him a soft smile. Jesse was so perceptive sometimes.

“Well, umm,” You start. “I’m sort of… seeing someone? Or trying to see someone, I guess. Not sure what to call it yet.”

“Oh, yeah? What does ‘trying’ to see someone mean exactly?”

“It means…” You sigh. “…it means I don’t really know what I’m doing or what’s going on or if I want to go further.”

Jesse chuckles.

“Well, what do you want?” He asks.

“I’m not really sure,” You reply honestly. “I guess, I’m a little tired of feeling lonely, and she’s so nice to me. She makes me feel good about myself. I don’t know. I just haven’t actually dated anyone in such a long time.”

“That’s okay. It’s been a rough couple of years for you. I don’t blame you at all.” Jesse says.

You look at him sadly before popping a spoonful of grits into your mouth.

“Well, I don’t think you should completely force yourself into something you’re unsure about,” Jesse says after taking a sip from his milkshake. “But I also think that you deserve to be happy. And unfortunately, that means putting yourself out there.”

You scowl at his sage advice.

“Do I have to?”

“Sorry, kid.” Jesse chuckles and you grimace.

“I just want to see you be yourself again,” Jesse continues. “Whether that’s because you start going out with someone new or because you just leave your apartment more often, it doesn’t matter. Do you think this girl could be good for you?”

You contemplate his question seriously for a few moments.

“Maybe?” You reply, unsure. “She could be. I don’t know.”

“Well, you don’t have to know now,” Jesse says. “Just do what makes you happy, okay? That’s really all I want.”

You feel something warm growing instantaneously in your chest. Gratitude is too small of a word for what you felt towards Jesse, and you make a note to yourself to start hanging out with him more.

“Thanks, Jess. You really are the best.” You say.

“Hey, that almost rhymed.” He jokes.

“Oh my god,” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re a poet and you don’t even know it!” He cackles.

You take one of your used, syrup-y paper napkins, ball it up, and toss it at his face. He catches it easily, chortling to himself.

“God, you’re a fucking dork!” You say.

“Don’t be a hater!” He says, holding his hands up defensively.

You giggle.

“I missed you, Jess.” You say.

“Missed you too, kid,” Jesse replies, eyes softening. “You’ve got to come over sometime. I haven’t beaten your ass at Smash in forever!”

You give him a hesitant smile, which he notices.

“Just come over when she’s not there.” He says, accurately assuming the reason behind your reluctance.

“Dude, I don’t know…”

“We’ll do it sometime when she’s not home. It’ll be fine, I promise.” Jesse reassures. “Plus, we haven’t had a jam sesh in forever. I miss my jamming partner.”

You smile, remembering the times when Jesse would convince you to teach him something new on his guitar or have you sing along to a song he’d been learning. He almost roped you into performing at an open mic with him back in freshman year, but you ended up chickening out.

“Don’t you have Ellie for that?” You ask timidly. You find that her name hurts to say out loud.

“She judges me too much for my exquisite and refined music taste,” Jesse complains. “She nearly threw her knife at me for trying to get her to duet a Taylor Swift song with me.”

You laugh, despite yourself.

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get.” You tease.

“Hey! This is a judgment-free zone. No judging my Swiftie habits.”

You roll your eyes playfully.

“Hey, by the way,” Jesse suddenly says. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“What?”

“The girl that you’re ‘trying’ to see or whatever.”

“Oh. Right.” You say, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s umm… Abby Anderson.”

You look up to see Jesse with an expression on his face that you don’t fully recognize. His eyebrows are furrowed and it looks as if he was trying to connect the dots about something you weren’t privy to. After several moments, you see what seems like a sudden realization reach his eyes.

“Oh shit, umm.” He starts. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“What is it, Jesse?” You ask skeptically.

“No, nothing. Just processing.” He replies unconvincingly.

“Jesse,” You press. “What is it?”

“Seriously, it’s nothing.”

“Dude, come on. Don’t bullshit me.” You assert. Jesse sighs.

“That just…That just explains a couple of things, that’s all.”

“What things?”

“I—” Jesse starts but his eyes suddenly wander away from you and towards the front door of the diner. “Oh, fuck.”

You follow the direction of his gaze. You feel your throat close up and your stomach lurch as you recognize the figures of Dina and Ellie entering the restaurant. The instinct you’d developed the past year to suddenly look elsewhere whenever Ellie entered the room vanished completely when your eyes fell on her face.

Ellie was sporting a black eye with a dark gash right underneath. The bruising didn’t look fresh, but you can easily tell it happened recently. Your eyes trail down and see that her right hand is also bandaged.

“Shit.” You hear Jesse mumble, breaking you out of your wildly unravelling thoughts. You turn to face him.

“I’m so sorry, man. I had no idea that they were gonna pass by—” Jesse immediately starts to apologize.

“I-it’s okay, Jess.” You stutter. “I just—”

You fall silent as you glance back towards the pair, your eyes inadvertently meeting Ellie’s ocean green ones. Your faces make the same panicked expression before you both break eye contact to hiss at your respective friends.

“You didn’t tell Dina where we were meeting?” You whisper fervently.

“I told her that we were gonna hang out, but I completely forgot to mention where.” He says apologetically.

“Jesse…” You whine.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, bud. Do you, uh, want me to go over there and—” His sentence is cut short as Dina approaches your table.

“Hi, babe.” She says, directed at Jesse. “So, what the fuck?”

“Why are you here?” You and Jesse demand simultaneously.

“We ordered takeout and we came to pick it up so we didn’t have to pay delivery fees.” Dina explains. “Jess, why didn’t you tell me—”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think you were coming out with El!” He says defensively.

“Fucking hell,” Dina says before turning to you. “I’m sorry, honey. Are you okay?”

“I, umm,” You start, your eyes unwittingly wandering back to Ellie. She was standing awkwardly by the host’s podium, bouncing back and forth between her feet and twiddling her fingers. She seems determined to look at nothing else but at her Chuck Taylor sneakers. You shift your gaze back to Dina.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay.” You say weakly.

She smiles sympathetically, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Is…” You begin timidly. “Is that a black eye? O-on Ellie?”

Dina and Jesse share a worried look.

“Did you tell her anything?” She asks him.

“No, not yet.” He replies.

Dina sighs.

“Tell me what?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

Dina’s hand squeezes your shoulder lightly.

“It’s—” She begins. “It’s kind of… private.”

“Oh” is all you say in response. You feel a little rebuffed and excluded, but you decide not to press further. You knew it wasn’t your business. And after all, you were no longer a foursome.

“We’re just gonna grab our food and go, okay?” Dina assures. “I’ll text you later, hun.” She says to you.

“O-okay…” You reply meekly and watch as Dina makes her way back to Ellie.

Neither you nor Jesse says anything. From your peripheral vision, you see Dina and Ellie seemingly argue about something for a few moments before the hostess arrives with a plastic bag of food, which Ellie grabs with her good hand. They leave without another glance back at you.

“Jess, I’m…” You say after a second or two of silence. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom real quick, okay?”

Jesse responds with a simple “okay.” His eyes meet yours with an acknowledgement that you merely need a second to yourself. You nod, silently thanking him for his understanding before making your way to the diner’s bathrooms.

As you shut the door behind you, you lean against it and weep silently.

Why? Why am I here again?

You realize that it hasn’t even been a week since you were in this same, empty diner bathroom, breaking down and crying tears of frustration.

Am I not allowed to catch a fucking break?

You spend a couple of minutes breathing deeply the way your old therapist taught you before you can wrench yourself off from the door and look at yourself in the mirror.

Please, just… please.

Your right hand unwittingly comes up to touch your face, right where Ellie’s injury had been on hers.

What the hell did she get herself into?

Ellie wasn’t inherently a violent person, but she didn’t shy away from it either. She was reckless and impulsive, something about her that you used to love but also dread. A memory starts forming in your head, of you and Ellie and that December night at the Bow and Arrow.

Your reminiscence is suddenly interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You take it out to see you got a text.

Abby?

You unlock your phone, giggling when you read her message.

She really is so nice to me.

Your heart starts to feel warm before it stops completely upon reading her follow-up texts.

O-oh. Oh, okay.

You gulp and feel a chill going down your spine. You almost feel the need to look around and make sure nobody is watching you, only to remember you were alone in the bathroom. Your phone buzzes with another message.

You chuckle nervously at Abby’s last message.

She’s bold, I’ll give her that.

You chew on your lip for a few moments while one hand grips your phone tightly and the other taps nervously on the bathroom counter. You take a deep breath.

Fuck it.

Remembering Jesse’s advice, you make the decision to put yourself out there again.

Hastily putting your phone back in your pocket before Abby can text back, you feel every nerve in your body tremble. Your heart hammers rapidly in your chest, but you stare at your reflection resolutely.

Abby likes you, okay? I think. And I think I can like her too. This is a chance to be part of something healthy for once.

You stand in front of the mirror, conducting your breathing exercises and attempting to convince yourself.

Back at your table while waiting for your return, Jesse is hastily questioning Dina through text if Abby Anderson was the reason that Frat Guy Adam was nearly beaten to a bloody pulp by the hands of Ellie.

author’s notes:

omg a million years later and i finally update? gasp. now everyone clap for belle (pls clap)

tbh i was too lazy to do all the phone texting parts with the format i did in the past chapters cause i hate having to mess around with the html format for the customized grey text, so my lazy ass just did screenshots of the texts instead, sorry slfkjsddsf

if you recognize the lesbian bar that i loosely based the bow and arrow on, no you didn’t

i’ve been replaying tlou2 lately and i know many of y’all headcanon jesse as a himbo which i honestly love, i’m obsessed with himbo!jesse, but i personally didn’t wanna ignore the fact that jesse’s actually a very intelligent and level-headed guy who’s extremely organized and who’s a natural leader and etc. let’s acknowledge this jesse more!

also jesse’s last name is merely inspired by the last name of the actor who plays him (stephen chang)

also jesse is a musician because i say so. i’m also hcing him as having taken piano lessons as a kid cause which of us asian kids weren’t forced to take piano lessons or whatever when we were kids, let’s be real (i took them briefly but they were boring and i’d already known and i also mostly taught myself anyway)

the part about reader's professor not knowing how to teach her own class is just me being still bitter over a mythology professor who kept trying to fail me cause i knew more about greek mythology than she did (she couldn't cause i was literally correct all the time). the bitch even tried to accuse me of plagiarism! i'm still mad.

i added in the part about ellie not inherently being a violent person as a passive-aggressive reference to craig mazin, the creator of the hbo show, who says that ellie has a violent heart when she does NOT, he does not understand our girl at all

the image i used as abby's selfie is of the body model that they based abby's character on, colleen fotsch!

wow i added waaaay too much in the author’s notes lol sorry belle has adhd everyone

anyway thank you for bearing with me as i take time uploading. replies and reblogs and messages are fuel to new chapters, so pretty please! indulge me!

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez, @libr4sonsa, @17luv, @robinismywifee, @villainousbear, @ashlynnnnnnnn15, @scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk, @awyunh, @kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @omgidksblog, @anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y, @elliesbabygirl, @alexpritch, @thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes

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strawberymilku · 4 months

Text

Playing Dangerous

featuring: Police!Leone Abbacchio x Fem!Reader

genres: nsfw!, crimes, mention of: thugs, arson, mafia, car sex, oral sex, blowjob, dirtytalk, one night stand, fingering, doggy style, praises, police theme, corrupt, minor gunplay

a/n: i was rewatching jojo, and ive been wanting to write a police smut with lana del rey lyrics as prompt, and my bf wnted to collab so i just had to write it. not proofread yet. might do part 2 for it. word: 4k, a bit long but it was worth it.

The woman was speeding for sure, but Abbacchio could doubt if she was the witness or the culprit for committing arson, Abbacchio heard the sound of the motorcycle approaching, and he turned to face the direction in which it was coming. It was heading straight in his direction-? He wasn't sure if the person on the bike was who he suspected it to be, but he raised his revolver as the bike came closer..it certainly looked suspicious...

"Why you?!" she yelled, cursing, he was brave enough that he did not care if he died to get her, pulling him on the side of the motorbike, with a swift dash, saving his life as he was at the back of her motorbike. It was the work of the Stand for sure, but sadly the man couldn’t see Stands like that yet but just felt someone lift him on her motorbike. That certainly caught him off guard. Was she just riding directly into him? The situation was unclear...Was she trying to run him over? To escape-? He was surprised at how quickly she acted. He could have been killed if it hadn't been for her, which meant..she couldn't be the arsonist, but she still looked suspicious..and yet she saved his life... Yet her actions are justified yet "Kill me later, what is wrong with you, you would be run across in my wheels," she had a gangly Italian accent, still on the motorbike with huge speed. "Am I getting a ticket for speeding too?" she said sarcastically. He looked at her back where a group of thugs were still chasing over her. Leone had a stunned look on his face. She was certainly lively, and rather..crude. He certainly wasn't expecting that attitude from a potential arsonist, but for some odd reason he didn't feel threatened by her- in fact, he was rather intrigued- she hadn't even noticed his police uniform. After a few moments of stunned silence, he finally replied

"Ah...I'm a police officer. But I can't just let anyone ride at such high speeds..why are you speeding away from people?" "They are after me, whaddya think," she went into different roads taking a lot of turns as the gang lost track of her, after minutes of having the stranger at the back, they stopped in a random alleyway, with a big sigh, she realized it was the cop, not that she’s afraid of him anyways. "It's my job to keep the streets safe and look out for suspicious behaviour- like someone on a motorcycle riding at dangerously high speeds in a residential area."

The suspicious behaviour mentioned included the arson incident at the local gas station that happened not a day ago. Although he didn't outright believe her, he decided to look into her claim. For now, he'd only ask questions to get a grip on the situation.

"May I ask what you were doing around that area where the suspected arson took place?"

"Arson? You think I'd commit arson-" Her lighter got pulled from her pocket, he was daring enough to get that from her leather jacket. "No, please, I'm a smoker," she pulled out her cigarettes to counter his proof. The policeman took a second to think. It would be highly unusual for someone to commit a criminal offense like arson just to cover up smoking. At the same time, he had no evidence proving her guilty yet. He decided to ask another more personal question.*

"Why were they on your tail to begin with? Do you know why these gang members were after you?" That was a sensitive topic for a mafia’s daughter, no way she could leak her identity out like that. "Yes I do, I have my own reasons, which place was getting burned again?" she tilted her head, as she was demanded to show her license, but she looked reluctant to show it.

There was still the issue of the gang members after her that he had to inquire about.

"The Shell station at the corner of Via Maddaloni and Via Caracciolo."

"I was at a Hilton Hotel I swear, you can get the evidence," she raised her arms, showing everything from her pocket. Everything seemed suspicious to Abbacchio, no way he could get information out of her mouth like that, so the best way was to flip her body quickly, putting her hands at his back as he slapped the metal handcuffs on her wrists, locking it. He was unsure why he did that but he believed this was the best way. She sighed, "My dad will be killing me if he finds out I’m going to be late,” it was too much for just speeding up in a motorbike.

He couldn’t help but raise a small smirk. Her hands being cuffed behind her back gave him a fair idea of what he could do to her.

"I suppose you aren't very much of a good girl?"

*"Everybody knows that I'm a good girl, officer,"* she replied still with her hands on her back as she was forced to walk back to where his car was. He let out a small laugh. It was rather amusing how easily she was acting so calm over being handcuffed and detained. Even if this incident would end up being a dead end for the arson case, he was still curious. She was just detained for being a suspect, just yet. Things are getting exciting.

"And exactly what is your name, miss?"

“Y/N,” she grunted still feeling her wrist already from the handcuffs. “Well then Y/N, too bad, you will be a warrant for, ‘reckless driving, running through stop signs, driving at dangerously high speeds, running through red lights- and for suspicion of arson. You have the right to remain silent,” he said in a stern tone, he couldn’t help but smile at her rolling her eyes. *"No, I wouldn't do a thing like that, that's for sure,"* she tried to pout her lips to use a charm on him, thinking he would let her go this time.

Abbacchio's smirk grew wider, as he tried not to laugh at her attempt at seduction.

"I don't think a pout will suffice for an excuse in court."

Her attitude was amusing he thought. Usually, people would be acting aggressively, but she seemed to have accepted the situation quite easily.

"Ah yeah, my dad told me not to talk to the police, because I can demand rights for a lawyer," she tried to rethink again, trying to stay silent as they slowly walked back to his car. She had the attitude of a spoiled teenager, but he couldn't help but be amused. Usually, people would be threatening legal action, not talking about their parents, but she was a different case.

"Your father told you not to talk to the police..? Is he one of those who would try to bribe officers to avoid arrest?"

"Oh really, does he?" she grinned, still using her legs to take sweet sweet time back to the car, it was taking so long than usual just to stall time as much as she could. She was certainly being flirty for someone who had just been arrested.

"If you're expecting me to be charmed you certainly have a poor way of showing it."

Though she certainly was charming..but he'd rather stay professional at the moment. He’s a committed policeman after all. "Am I going to jail for this?" her shoulders slouched at him trying to repeat what she committed as if he were his mom. “Like, *the house is already on fire right, I swear I’m not a liar,*” she added to him to second guess his decisions.

Abbacchio gave her a skeptical look. She definitely wasn't being completely honest. But what she said about the house being on fire definitely seemed more believable than her being the arsonist. It seemed like these gang members came after her for something else. He decided to ask just to confirm his suspicions.

“I’m not asking about the arson crime, I’m asking how are you related to those thugs, it’s very dangerous you know,” he tried to squeeze more questions to get more information out of her.

The girl didn’t reply, it was indeed a chilly night, her lips were quivering from the cold, even if she had the leather jacket on her. “Are you cold?” he asked with concern in his eyes, his hands on her handcuffs, yet pulling her close to him, trying to walk back where he came from.

*“Well, I'm a little shaken, but I'm fine, thanks for asking.”* she smiled at him to look up at him with her eye smile.

"Did you owe them money? Did you have their illegal drugs? What's your ties to these gang members?" "Tell me do you always work so late?" she didn't answer his question, as she had the right not to though. She was very charming, but also very stubborn- he almost found it admirable. Maybe he should've taken her up on her earlier offer of charm. She seemed very confident in her ability to seduce him. It could be the right moment to give in to temptation.

"It's my job to watch the late night shift, what does my work schedule have to do with your involvement with gangs?"

*"Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on?"* she tried to pull it out but it was not to avail. Still, she didn’t give up yet to flirt with him. Abbacchio gave her a small laugh at the girl, this was the moment for which he was hoping. That is, she was very much starting to flirt with him- so now was the perfect time to reciprocate.

"Are you sure you're not trying to get me to take the cuffs off?"

It might just be wishful thinking, but it certainly looked like she was trying to flirt. He was hoping for it anyway, and now she had given him the right opportunity by attempting to pull her cuffs off... But he must stay professional right?

*"Let's get in the back of your cop car, officer?"* she asked a question, still finding ways to flirt with him last minute possible. Finally, they arrived at the car that had printed ‘Polizia’ on it. “Playtime is over, get in the car,” he tried to stay in a demanding tone. The ‘officer’ word did get the man inhaled deeply, oh the things he could do with her right now, as he placed her in the backseat of the car, respectfully, restraining himself from touching her. He’s a good policeman, he couldn’t be doing that. *"You can ask me anything you want, anything, like anything,"* she smiled as he slowly fell for her trap, he decided to sit in the backseat, for a while, closing the car door behind him, and locking it, giving her a dirty smirk. Abbacchio chuckled and shook his head at her flirtatious comments, yet he also realized just how tempting the situation was.

"Anything, hmm?"

He thought for a bit. His mind started to wonder as he looked down at her. She was very appealing.

"What would you do, if I decided to uncuff you- right now?" "I don't know, officer," she looked at his lips then back to him. "You do like purple lipstick, don't you, what is it? Givenchy brand?" she joked, in between, giving a mysterious appeal to the policeman wanting to give in to his desires.

"Good guess. Though I may need more than just your beauty alone to convince me."

"Like what, officer?" she leaned closer towards his neck, it was rather a risqué attempt, she was down to play with fire too, from the looks in his eyes. Leone bit his lip slightly but he still tried to hold back, he wanted to stay professional and focused. But his heart couldn't help but race as she got close. He wondered how this would end...if there was a way he could fall for the trap.

The smell of her perfume hit his nose making it that much harder to focus. He was very tempted. She seemed to have been waiting for him to reply for a minute now. *"Do you have a girl? I don't see a ring on your finger?"* she'd be the one asking questions here instead, how the tables have turned, touching his chest on his police uniform, with her fingertips. This made him raise an eyebrow, the question she had just asked was a little unexpected. Though given he was staring directly at her lips he couldn't deny that he was rather tempted to take it as a sign. But he decided to answer nonetheless.

"I don't have a girlfriend..not at the moment anyway." "*Well that's interesting, have you thought of dating a* **mafia's daughter?**" she replied, dropping the biggest hint of all time, until he realized, no wonder why the gang was after her. He should let her go right? The thought of having her as a girlfriend was still tempting..her attractiveness, her flirtatious attitude, it was too much to ignore.

"Are you offering?" "Maybe I am, offering you a taste?" she leaned closer towards him slowly. It was obvious, that she a tease, still not kissing him, just yet, but their faces were just inches apart. Abbacchio held his breath. Her words were tempting, her attitude was tempting..and her lips were certainly tempting- all she had to do was just close the space between them and they'd be locked in a passionate kiss...

He felt like he might die if he didn't go through with their kiss. He wanted to play her game and play it perfectly. Her words had been tempting since she said them and he could only answer with one answer.

Abbacchio took in a deep breath and nodded his head. **The flames are getting higher, and so is his desire. It's kind of exciting, don't you think?

"Am I playing a dangerous game, officer?" she teased, still not kissing him, just yet, she wanted to see how far this would go.

The policeman was gritting his teeth in anticipation. It was a dangerous game she was playing, and he knew he shouldn't play it. She was involved with the mafia after all. But the temptation was too much to pass up. He had to do it. The smell of her perfume still lingered, making it much more inviting.

"It's a very dangerous game."

Abbacchio finally caved in. He knew he couldn't control himself anymore. He closed the distance and pulled her towards him, giving in their passionate kiss. She crashed on her lips softly, melting right down on this gothic policeman, without shame, he was worth a one-night stand, but she didn't really care, their kisses became hotter and hotter each second, he gripped her body, forcing her onto his thighs, looking up at her. Their kiss has started to deepen. His lips brushed against hers as he pulled her even closer. This girl..she was too irresistible. Her flirting and teasing, even the danger of her being involved with the mafia. He just wanted more. She touched his badge and looked up at him. "Abbacchio was it?" she kissed him once more, not enough of his kisses, at this point the purple lipstick has been worn off at this point, some even staining her lips.

"That is my name, yes." "So officer~" the way she said was so enticing,

"What am I supposed to do now?" she felt his hands roaming all across her body, as if he owned her right here, no tonight, he could do whatever he wanted for tonight.

"Will I be forgiven for this, officer?" she was like a crime he must commit just for tonight, a sin he wouldn't regret doing, for sure.

"I guess I'll have to figure out how to punish you for this..for now though, I'm sure you don't mind my hands on your body, hmm?"

His smile was quite teasing too and even though he was trying to appear professional, it was clear he was enjoying this quite a lot. He leaned back in and began kissing her again. He gave her a look that told her he was enjoying this as his hands stayed firmly on her hips. “Let’s make this exciting for the both of us,” he pulled out his revolver from his waistband, pointing at her head. He must tried it out at least, he needed to have the upper hand as well. "Officer, I will do anything to repent," her words were dripping as if it was made of honey, she wasn’t even fazed the gun barrel was pointed at her head, biting her lips. Things have gotten out of hand. "You will, will you?" he grinned of mischievous how he liked her under his power.

"How about you tell me what you'd do to repent- and I'll think about it and see if it's enough of a punishment for you." "First, I'd unbuckled that belt of yours and..." her eyes trailed downwards at the seat at the bulge forming in his navy blue pants and up to his golden purple eyes, that would be enough for his imagination to do the rest of the work. “Okay then, get to work, don’t just be an all talk,” he pressed the revolver harder on her skin, geez this man was full of sass, which made her actually take off his pants, obeying his orders, just as he wanted her to. "Oh, please don't shoot me yet, Mr Polizia, I will be good," she unravelled his hard cock from his underwear, palming it between her small hands trying to please him, her handcuffs were still on.

"So you'll be a better girl if I don't shoot you?"

He looked down at her with a teasing and tempting look, she was really quite the girl. This was the most teasing, dangerous girl he had ever come across on the job. “You know your small hands aren’t in good use, use your mouth,” he demanded, pointing the gun directly at her and even though he wasn't gonna shoot, she could clearly see the barrel against her. He looked at her with a teasing grin. She looked so pretty under him, and all the power he had on her. She nodded at his orders, bending down, licking his wet tip for a while, which made him have a satisfying moan, his impulse made him push his right hand on her head, pushing her mouth closely for the blowjob. His breath was shaky already as he felt every part of her mouth on his dick, he felt as if he was on cloud nine, it was all worth it. Worth it from a tiring shift, she was trying to suck him good, she looked like she was an expert at this, feeling his tip pushed against her throat, she was trying to be his only little good girl, a good girl just for Mr Policeman right here. Oh, how he’d wish he could possibly want her every night. Her mouth was starting to tire her, as all her saliva was all around his base, “Abbacchio, sir, are you satisfied yet?” she looked up at him for his mercy, for his approval, for his attention, with those orbs. “Not yet, I wanted to cum on your face,” he pointed the gun at her, demanding to resume her lips to work again. Her head bobbed again and again, trying to please him as much as she could, deepthroating him, her tongue twirling on his length. She liked how much vocal he was, praising her, for her good use of the mouth.

“My god, you weren’t lying when you said you will have your mouth in good use,” that was the best blowjob he received in his life so far, feeling every orgasm trying to rip from his heated skin. After minutes of torturing her throat, he finally gave in, painting on her face with his white liquids, with a satisfied smug face. “Uh, uh, uh, mi amore,” he had a menaced look over her with a tsk, “Who said I was done with you?” for a policeman like him, having stamina could be true. He bent her over, his gun still pointing at her. The time to show who is the monster here, not giving her a break.

“Look here, girl, *if you can't stand the heat. Then stay out of the fire,*” he groped all over breasts, throwing the gun away on the floor of the car. She happened to listen all to his command, like a good little girl, he pulled down her bottom clothing, his fingers trying to play her folds through her underwear, trying to tease her. “Oh, your cunt is wet here, *you might get what you desire*,” he put the underwear aside, rubbing on her clit, trying to gain some moans from her. Things are starting to get interesting. “I’m not putting on anything, yeah, just to warn you,” his cock tried to get between her wet folds, just like that. “I-uh, policia, please don’t you have a condom-” her mouth was shoved with the finger he got her pussy juices on. “Lick it up,” she couldn’t deny such requests from the hot officer, licking it, while he kept pounding her behind her back. Not enough, he needed to feel every wall of her just like that. “I’m going raw, so shut your pretty mouth like that,” He had an enormous speed, gripping her waist, her arms against the tinted glass, the car starting to fog up from the movements, “Listen here, little girl, and listen good,” he raised her body good, her boobs all over the window glass at this point, she screamed more as her G spot has been getting all this abuse from the sudden position.

“Please, please, have mercy on me, officer-” her words were cut as he pushed his fingers in her throat, attempting to shut her mouth. This man is indeed wild, the luckiest night for a girl like her. **”Even if you scream, or beg me to stop, or have mercy, I’m not stopping,”** he rutted inside her cunt as if it was meant to be shaped by his large cock.

“Not until I’m satisfied,” he hummed, using it as if she was a toy she was made just for him to fuck her. Her cries and moans filled the whole street, think to their luck no one was in the streets, a few maybe. Do you this man cares? No? **“Not like you can stop me anyways, hmm?”** he didn’t stop his thrusts, her pussy aching from all the movements, their moans were in unison. She was already tired at this point, getting the slaps on her buttocks, his hand making her chin move just to kiss him as he kept railing behind her back, his lusts and desires being fulfilled by this one girl. “If you keep doing like that, I might-” she panted for air, she needed for a moment there, “I might, cum~” her body squealed in pleasure, holding all her sanity.

It was prolonged sex for sure, he finally had to urge to orgasm, he pulled out in time, cumming all over her body, she really looked pretty as if he was the artist, painting more cum on the belly. “Know your place, just like that,” he looked coldly into her eyes, he didn’t have time for this right? The aftercare was little, he threw her tissues and a bottle of water he had in the car, putting on his clothes, he did let her go this time, unlocking her sore wrists, and going back to his driver seat.

He did drove her back to her motorbike was at, even opening the door for her to get out, after minutes of silence, he kissed her forehead softly, like a gentleman would, before he finally let her go. But one thing for sure is that it was one of the best nights he’d ever had with a girl. A sucker for romance, *lovin’ a hurricane*

part 2?

#jjba part 5 #leone abbacchio #jjba abbacchio smut #abbacchio smut #leone abbbacchio smut #leone abbacchio x reader #police abbacchio #jjba smut #jjba x reader #jojo part 5 #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo fanfic #jojo abbacchio #jojo smut

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jenna-ortega · 6 months

Text

history of man

pairing - joelmiller x femalereader ratings - 18+ word count - 4k warnings - arranged marriage AU, dubious con(the whole arranged marriage against readers will thing), angst, brat!reader, softdom!joel, kidnapping, jumpscare!david, salt lake but a very different salt lake than the games (aka no cannibalism) , panic attack authors note - thank you for waiting for this! i really hope you enjoy it, no smut in the first chapter :( (ik boooo) but there will be smut to come. cause you know joel miller is nothing if not a seducer of woman. comment, and let me know what you think! lets have a discourse.

SUMMARY - You thought coming to silver lake would be better than your previous QZ living situation. Come to find out, you had more than freedom waiting for you on the other side of the wall. You had Joel Miller, whether you wanted him or not.

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Fuck this. Fuck him. They hold you hostage then offer you food and water? This shit doesn’t feel right. Your whole body turns away from him. Pushing the glass further from you as you pout. “Drink.” “No.” “Now. The growl in his voice startles you. For someone who swears they aren’t going to hurt you, it feels a hell of a lot like he is. Your eyes find his, now dark with a scowl on his face. “I’m not gonna tell ya again, girl.” You scoff. “What…you’re gonna force me?”

Nothing you’ve been through thus far could have prepared you for this.

It’s dark. So, so dark.

“Get off me!” you screamed while trashing your body in the man's arms. Earning you an elbow to the side that made you groan at the harsh hit. Your body trembling, wishing you could see through the pitch black area ahead.

You arrived at Silver lake only a short time ago, not realizing how much of a mistake this stop in your long journey would be. You only made it a few hours into nightfall trying to observe the town from the far woods when a bunch of men caught you from behind. Now dragging you across the snowy town and making a scene of it.

“I will KILL you!” Your empty threats made the man dragging your left arm along laugh, causing you to turn your head and give him a nasty look.

“Hear that, ted?” the mystery man nodded his head to the man on your right, “we caught a feisty one. Know just who’d like this one…” the men disregarded your attempts at kicking, laughing as they went back and forth as if this was just another day.

You made it to what looked like some sort of run down restaurant, your brain working over time to think of every possible scenario that could happen here. Worst is you’re dead. Best is they feed you, cloth you, and tell you this was all a prank. But you doubt it’s the latter.

You huff out a small ouch as you’re being thrown into a makeshift jail cell at the back of the place you surveyed earlier, hitting the grown so hard dust particles float in the bright white light casting above you.

“Don’t move.” the taller man shouts down at you,

Your eyes roll at the request, “Nowhere to go in here, jackass.” you cross your arms and death glare at him from below.

“Fucking bitch,” his hand grabs your hair from in between the bars and drags you to it. Your whole body moved to follow his hand, trying to shield yourself from the pinching pain,

“HEY!, get off her, man. You know they’ve gotta be in one piece.” the other man warns, thankfully giving your scalp a break from the pull.

“Whatever.” he scoffs, turning to walk out with his buddy. Both of their backs towards you. You slap the cell bars and scream in frustration. Quickly realizing you needed to figure out your next move. You need to stay alive, you need to get the fuck out of here. Your body pushes itself against the wall, head falling back as you begin to silently cry. Nobody here but you and your thoughts for the foreseeable future. Your head falls against the wall, and your eyes close. Forcing yourself into slumber.

—

Drool begins to dry on your face before you are suddenly awakened by the loud slam of a door. You gasp, waking up and forgetting this is now where you have been staying. A cold, dirty cell floor. You look up quickly and your eyes find a taller man, one you haven't seen before; walking slowly towards you. You instinctively crawl to the further edge of the cell.

“Stay back.” you warned, as if you had any upper hand in this situation.

“m’sorry to scare you” the strangers hands raise in defense as he stopped walking towards you. “Just wanted to check on you.” He stands with his arms to his side now. Waiting on your next move.

“Check on me?” you begin, voice dripping with malice. “I was just kidnapped and thrown into this fucking cell.” his eyes follow your body as you kneel to stand up. Wiping down your pants to get the dust off. Fully standing, now closer to his height.

His face is flat and stern as he begins to observe how you are acting. Deeply in his own thoughts as he looks down at the ground, only to be brought back by your incessant nagging,

“HELLO! Can you even hear me?”

“I want to help you”

You’re confused by his bold statement, but accept his help by nodding slowly as you walk towards him in your cell.

“You’re not leaving this cell until they think you’re calm enough…and you’re not leaving this town. At least not alive, I’m sorry.”

“What does that even mean? What do you guys even want from me?”

“It’s not the right time.” the man turns on his heels and begins walking out, leaving you more pissed than you originally were.

“Please, please don’t leave yet!” you whined,

He turns his head over his shoulder slightly to acknowledge your plea, his back still to you.There is a comfortable silence until he breaks it, “What’s your name?”

You go back and forth with yourself for a little while, wondering if you should be honest. You have to get out of here, and maybe he is your best bet. If you play nice with him, maybe you can bring his guard down enough to get released and escape. You’ll play this role for now, and you tell him your name in a silent whisper.

He nods in acknowledgement, and you throw his question back to him. Another silence looming before he breaks it,

“Joel.”

—

It’s been hours.

The metallic clang echoed through the dimly lit room as a new man fumbled with rusty keys. You squinted at the sudden sound as he swung the creaking cell door open. His average figure standing at the opening of your cell, beckoning you to come with him.

“About time," you muttered, rubbing your eyes and standing up.

The man flashed a wry smile, his reddish beard framing weathered features. "Apologies for the delay. We don't get many visitors here in Silver Lake, and security is tight."

You stay silent as you give him a shy smile. Following him out of the room, and close on his trail as you walk an appropriate distance away from him as he brings you outside. It’s an oddly calm vibe, and you begin to overthink. Is this your chance to run, he’s giving you so much freedom…would he be able to even catch you? He does look kind of older, skinner than the other men you’ve had the pleasure of interacting with. As if he reads your mind, he breaks your thought pattern,

“Sorry about my guards. They can be protective of this place.” he eyes your bruises,

“What is this place?”

The man gestured for you to follow again as he led you through town. "Silver Lake is more than just a town. It's a haven for those who survived the apocalypse, a place where people from different walks of life came together to rebuild what was lost."

As you walked, you noticed families huddled in makeshift homes, the sounds of children playing echoing through the air. The aroma of cooking wafted from a communal kitchen, and people greeted you with nods as you both passed.

"It's been a tough journey, but we've managed to create something special here," the man continued. "We have families, we have friends, we’re a community"

“A community that throws people into dark dungeons and leaves them there for days?” you bite back, causing him to stop in his tracks, turning to you.

“I am very sorry about that. Let’s start over.” he holds his hand out for you to shake, “I’m David. And who might you be?”

You give him a funny look, face scrunching in disgust, not wanting to do whatever this is. But you remember what Joel had told you. Remember your plan to play along.

You shook his hand and told him your name, earning a smile from him, “It’s very nice to meet you.”

The air was thick with a sense of uncertainty the rest of the walk. You both ended up at a rather small house, the look of it just like every single other one. As you approached the house, the wooden boards creaked beneath your feet. The windows, covered with tattered curtains, revealed only glimpses of the dim interior. A sturdy figure with a graying beard stood on the porch, his eyes scrutinizing the surroundings.

"David," Joel called out, a tight smile breaking through the gruff exterior. "Wasn’t expectin’ you so soon."

“Thought I’d bring her here, have her rest up by you. Get acclimated to the community.”

You’re confused by David’s words. Was Joel one of his guards? Like the other two men who had caught you? You have so many questions you wanted to ask, but you were insecure. Didn’t know if these were people you could really trust or not, and you just wanted to make it out of here. You had to push through, had to endure whatever the hell this was. Just until you were able to make it out.

David begins to introduce you both, but Joel raises his hand stopping David’s words– “We’ve met.”

David looks at Joel in a peculiar way, a way you couldn’t quite decipher yet. Then back at you, grinning widely, “Glad you’re taking this so well, Joel.” he walks back off down the stairs, turning back just once to shout, “You’re in good hands!”

You sway back and forth slowly, hands crossing over the other as your gaze is glued to the ground. You don’t know what to think, what to do, what to say…

“You can come in.”

—

You’ve been sitting in silence for the past 30 minutes while Joel is simmering something on the stove. His kitchen table is small, and placed in the corner of his modest sized kitchen. It all looks so..normal. So much like how it was before. You watch Joel as he stirs the big pot, banging the spoon handle on the side to watch the sauce drip back down into the pot. He brings the spoon back down onto the counter, turning towards you to sit. You rip your gaze away from him, pretending you haven’t been observing his every move.

“You’re nervous?” His voice is soft. He is still standing at this point, noticing you flinch as he goes to sit. You get the feeling he isn’t bad…but at this point, you don’t know what to think. You look up at him, biting your lip as you stay silent.

“m’not gonna hurt you.” he reminds you. Joel grabs a cup from his counter, turning on the faucet and pouring you water. Water. You haven’t seen a stable source of water in…oh god it’s been long.

Joel takes note of the glint in your eyes as he pours you a cup, taking a deep breath in relief. Seeing you nervous only makes the seed of guilt in his stomach grow. The soft look of fear you’ve had plastered on your face since he’s seen you makes him angry. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have to do this.

“Here.” He sets the water down in front of you, sitting in the seat next to you.

Fuck this. Fuck him. They hold you hostage then offer you food and water? This shit doesn’t feel right. Your whole body turns away from him. Pushing the glass further from you as you pout.

“Drink.”

“No.”

“Now.

The growl in his voice startles you. For someone who swears they aren’t going to hurt you, it feels a hell of a lot like he is. Your eyes find his, now dark with a scowl on his face.

“I’m not gonna tell ya again, girl.”

You scoff.

“What…you’re gonna force me?”

“f’i have to.”

“Then go ahead.”

You hear him grumble to himself, words that resemble “fucking stubborn.” as he pushes out his chair, pushing it back in roughly. He slams a bowl down on the counter, causing you to gasp. You watch as he scoops a few spoonfuls of food into the bowl, turning abruptly to slam it down in front of you. Rushing off after he does. Leaving you to ponder your own thoughts. You’re looking down at the steamy bowl of what looks like a stew as you hear the front door slam open and closed. He’s left you. Has he gone to tell David about your interaction? Shit. You should have listened to him, you wanted to play this smart. Now for all you know this will be the last bowl of food you’ll have in a while. Will they bring you back down to the cell? Your thoughts frighten you into eating scoops of the food, taking huge gulps of water. Your belly burns from the nutrients you’ve been neglecting yourself for weeks. You sip the last remnants of liquid from the bowl and get up to set it down into the sink. With Joel gone, you were free to roam the house. But you just felt like a scared little mouse, too afraid to disturb anything not familiar.

You’ve decided against your better judgment to take a look at the place. Just until someone eventually comes back to take you away.

You look around the living room first, a small brown couch, enough to fit three bodies comfortably sits directly across from a fireplace. A mantle with nothing but dust lays atop of the fireplace, not homey at all. You inspect the room, finding nothing that tells you about the man who left you here. You decide to move on.

There are 4 stairs that lead up into what looks like a small wing of the house, the last square footage you have left to survey. To your left, a small bathroom. A large tub, one that reminds you of yours from home. Bubble baths and candle lit nights fog your memory. You surprise yourself as you feel water run down your eyes. Tears. Shit. This is all too much.

Just a few feet down, there’s an empty room with nothing but the sunlight of the open window shining through. Directly across, there’s another room. You break through that doorway and find a bed, a nightstand, and what looks to be a 6 drawer dresser filling the room. So empty, yet you wonder how he lives. You walk towards the drawers, opening up the top left one to find a few pairs of flannels. Of course. You open the top right and find it empty. He must travel light.

You get bored and begin walking to the bed, sitting atop of it to feel how soft the sheets are. You haven’t sat down on a bed in forever. So comfortable. The sheets stretched over the bed softer than you remember sheets being. The pillows are fluffier than you ever felt. The blanket is so warm…so…inviting. Your body does it before your brain thinks of it. Crawls under the covers. Your head hits the soft pillow, and you feel your eyes closing and your brain settling down. Your shoulders relax into the mattress, and your breathing evens out. You’re gone before you know it.

…You feel a thump on the bed that startles you awake, darkness engrosses the room and you thrash in bed to find your bearings.

“Joel?” you rub your eyes and see him standing in front of the bed, you look down to see fresh clothes lying next to you.

“Take a shower. We got somewhere to be.”

—

You are trying to catch up to Joel as he’s walking ahead of you, “Slow down!” you shouted to him, stumbling over your feet as you grabbed his arm to stay up.

“We’re already late,”

“For what?”

He huffs, but begins walking slower for you. Both of you now silently walk into the same restaurant you were kept at just a day ago. Your body goes rigid as you think of all the things that will happen. You fucked up. You did this to yourself, you didn’t follow the—your thoughts pause as you see the place crawling with people. Like a huge get together, chatter and laughs bounce off the walls. It’s so…alive.

The crowd of people part, and all eyes are now on you and Joel. David at the forefront of the room. “Welcome, Welcome! We’ve been waiting for you two.” he laughs as he walks past the sea of people to you both, grabbing onto Joel’s shoulder and smiling widely, “Hopefully you were late for a fun reason,” he winks at you two and you shudder, what the fuck was this guy assuming? You rip your hand off Joel’s arm, patting down your dress and making note of all the faces in the room. Your eyes catch the two men from your capture, hand and hand with ladies. How the hell did they land those girls? They were absolute dicks to you. But as you rip those men apart in your head, you notice everyone is coupled up. Kids in the mix as well. Maybe the community wasn’t terrible…seems family oriented at least.

You follow Joel to the front of the room, wanting to stick by him and not venture off too far. He seemed to be a rigid asshole sometimes, but he was an asshole that didn’t hurt you yet. You stand close to him, arms bumping as you look up at him. He looks down at you, smiling with his eyes turned down, a worried look etched on his face. Maybe he was as anxious at public events as you were.

“Please, everyone welcome our newcomer into silver lake!” David introduced you by name to the room, the whole room saying hello directly towards you in a cult like manner.

“Uh–Hi everyone?” you stuttered, heart beating so fast the pounding began to overtake your hearing.

David’s speech began again, mentioning new updates and new hunts their men had succeeded at. You zoned out again, only brought back to the present by Joel nudging you gently, your head batting to look towards David who had beckoned you to stand on the other side of Joel, sandwiched between the two men. You smiled and nodded, doing as you were told for this one instance. Put on the spot as you got comfortable in your new position, David called upon you,

“She has been a wonder, ladies and gentlemen. An absolute prize. That’s why I think we should all welcome her with open arms.”

You stood by David's side, feeling the curious eyes of the community upon you. Joel, a stern figure with a rugged exterior, stood nearby. The unease in the room was palpable as David continued his introduction.

"And this, my friends, is a crucial time for us. Unity is our strength, and it's my pleasure to announce that we have a new bond to forge. In the days to come, our friend here will be joining hands with Joel."

Your heart skipped a beat, panic creeping into every fiber of your being. You exchanged a wary glance with Joel, whose expression remained stoic. David's words echoed in your ears like an impending storm.

"Joel," David continued, "our only hermetic guard, will stand as a pillar of strength for our newcomer. Together, they will contribute to the resilience of Silver Lake and ensure the prosperity of our community."

A lump in your throat formed, the weight of the announcement settling in. Arranged marriage—a relic of a bygone era—now thrust upon you in the midst of survival. Your eyes darted between David and Joel, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

"Survival often demands sacrifices," David said, his tone filled with conviction. "And in this new chapter, we come together to build a stronger, more resilient future."

The room buzzed with whispers, but you could only hear the thudding of your own heart. Joel's gaze met yours, and you saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes, as if he, too, had been thrust into this against his will.

As the community welcomed you both with a mix of cheers and polite applause, you felt the walls closing in. The air grew heavier, and your breaths quickened. This was worse than the cell. This was worse than your impending death. This was something you could have never seen coming.

As David's words lingered in the air, a suffocating tension settled over the room. The weight of the announcement hung over you like a dark cloud, and you couldn't bear the collective gaze of the community any longer. Without a word, you turned on your heels and bolted from the room, breaths coming in erratic gasps.

The cold night air hit you as you stumbled into the open, the dim glow of lanterns casting long shadows over the uneven ground. Panic gripped you like a vise, and you ran blindly through the narrow pathways, seeking solace in the darkness.

"Wait!" Joel's voice echoed behind, his footsteps closing in. You refused to stop, the desperation to escape overwhelming reason. But he caught up, his hand gently gripping your shoulder. "Stop."

You whirled around, chest heaving, eyes wide with fear. "I can't do this, Joel."

He stepped closer, his gaze softening. "None of us asked for this. But we're survivors, and sometimes survival means making tough choices."

You shook your head, the panic escalating. "I won't be someone's pawn. I won't let them control my life."

Joel's expression softened, and he pulled you into a hesitant embrace. "Shh, babygirl, calm down. Running won't change anything."

The unexpected term of endearment caught you off guard, but the gentleness in his voice began to chip away at the walls of panic. You trembled against him, the tension in your body slowly dissipating.

"We can figure this out," he murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "You're not alone here. We'll find a way out. Told ya I wouldn’t hurt ya."

You took a shaky breath, the warmth of his embrace offering a strange comfort in the midst of chaos. The reality of your shared predicament began to sink in, and you reluctantly nodded. "I don't want this, Joel.."

He pulled back slightly, locking eyes with you. "I know. You gotta smarten up if you want to survive. No more being stubborn."

You wipe your tears from your cheeks, sniffling as you nod at him. “Okay.”

“If we want to get out of this together. There are some rules ya gotta follow.” Joel began, surprising you with how fast the gentleness in his tone shifted into something more stern…

“This is not a fairy tale. It's about survival. Our survival."

You nodded, a bitter taste settling in your mouth. The harsh truth of your situation echoed in Joel's words.

"First rule," he continued, his eyes piercing through the darkness. "We stick together. There's safety in numbers, and in this world, trust is a luxury we can't afford. You stay close, and you follow my lead."

You swallowed hard, the gravity of the arrangement sinking in. "Fine," you mumbled, my defiance momentarily subdued.

"Second rule," Joel continued, unfazed. "We present a united front. Whether you like it or not, we're bound by this arrangement. Any sign of discord, and it puts both of us at risk. We can't afford internal conflicts."

You bristled at the demand, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I didn't sign up for this, Joel. I won't be some indentured servant."

He narrowed his eyes, his patience wearing thin. "You're not the only one dealing with shit. I won’t touch you, I won’t make you any kind of servant. You follow my rules, and you don’t fuck with our chance at getting out. Understand me?"

Reluctantly, you nodded, conceding to the harsh reality that enveloped you.

“I said, do you understand me?” he repeats, expecting an answer from you.

“I understand,” you whispered to him, lips curving down as you felt tears swell in your eyes.

You met his gaze, defiance flickering. "I won't play house just to appease the crowd."

He sighed, the weariness in his eyes suggesting a history of battles fought and lost. "You don't have to like it, but you have to do it. It's the only way we make it out of this mess alive."

As Joel's rules echoed in the silence that followed, you couldn't shake the feeling that your autonomy had been sacrificed on the altar of survival.

taglist - @joeldjarin @love-affair-with-fandoms @punkshort @movievillainess721 @fragilefable

#joel miller x you #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #arranged marriage #arrangedmarriage!joel

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me-and-your-husband · 1 year

Text

mine truly and forever || j. miller

summary: joel comes back to you in whatever way he can. part two of “yours truly and forever”.

warnings: smut, creampie, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk

word count: 4k

A/N: this took me awhile to get out, sorry everybody! also, i really didn’t plan on writing a part 2 to this, but the demand was really high. not my best work, so i just fed you all with smut instead lmao

here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!

You had long since given up hope that Joel was coming back for you.

Every morning, you woke and swallowed down the tightening in your throat, the knot in your stomach. You believed he had moved on. Maybe he found his brother and settled down with Ellie.

Anything was better than what was most likely. Anything was better than him being dead.

You rose with the sun and fell with it too, wondering every day if you’d ever see him again. If you’d ever get to laugh with him, or cry with him, or touch him. Some part of you thought that, maybe, your night spent together was just his desperation for some human touch. All you were to him was a way to satiate his desire. Maybe.

You tried not to think about it, but the thought of him him him seeped into everything you did. Feeding the cows? You thought about Joel. Harvesting? You thought about Joel. Cooking? You thought about Joel. Laying awake at night, eyes flitting across the darkness, searching for something? You thought about Joel.

So, yeah, you’d given up on the idea of him awhile ago.

It had been two years since that night. The night you gave yourself wholly to him. The night you let him into the most intimate parts of your body and soul. Since you let him crawl through you, seeing into your depths.

The first few months after him were honeyed in hope. When your alarm went off, signaling something was trying to breach your perimeter, you rushed to the camera and prayed it was Joel. It was always just some stray infected or moose or something that wasn’t him. As the snow melted, your heart was loyal. You breathed in the belief of his words every morning. The slush on the ground a reminder that he’d be safer in the warm weather, that he’d come back to you sooner. The summer was warm. Your garden thrived, preparing for his return. You ate strawberries on your porch and basked in the golden sun, soaking in the heat. Your skin dripped in sweat, heart dripping in steadfast hope.

In the winter, you faltered. You still hoped for his return, you still believed in his promise, but you started thinking about other possibilities. Though, you rarely entertained them. Another spring passed. And another summer. Another fall, winter, and spring. It was summer now, but the heat was more suffocating, the sunshine more of a nuisance.

Over the last winter, you grit your teeth and weathered your bones. You felt betrayal, deep in your gut. Had he lied? Just to keep you solitary? To keep you from chasing after him? To keep you away?

You didn’t know. You didn’t care. Did you?

You didn’t know.

You had given him everything, but he couldn’t keep a promise.

You forced yourself to separate the idea of him from who he really was. He was a man before he was yours. He craved the life that would offer him something to do. He craved you, but didn’t he crave others? Did he crave you, or did he crave someone to take care of him?

Who was Joel Miller? Who was he, and who was he to you?

Was he even the type to come back to you? No. Probably not. Not when he’s lived through this for 22 years. Not when he’s seen his friends die. Not when he’s killed. He wasn’t the type to lay down and become a farmhand.

Besides, you saw the way he looked at Ellie. Part of you was sure that he’d never leave that girl. She meant more to him than he’d ever say. He was never just yours. He never would be.

So you shoved the thought of him to the corners of your mind, rejecting it endlessly. You’d never let yourself think too hard about him, only ever letting his image flit about your mind like a lost butterfly. You shut him out and never sought him out again.

Another morning fell into your lap. The sun barely peeked over the horizon when the sound of alarms ringing out through the property jolted you awake. You rolled your head to the side to stretch a sore muscle, hand reaching under your bed for your rifle. No reason for alarm. Whatever it was, a stray infected or an animal, no doubt, would fall into one of your traps, or you’d pick it off without wasting a single bullet. All in a day’s work.

You slid on the first pair of shoes you could find, slipping out the door and making your way towards where the camera had signalled the breach. You groaned as you realized just how early it was, the sun barely illuminating the ground you stepped on.

You held your rifle out as your eyes scanned the fence line. Nothing. It must have been one of the traps that set off the alarm. Sighing, you push the buttons on the padlock and it opens the gate.

Moving to the nearest trap, you peek the muzzle of the rifle into the hole. It was still dark, but you made out a figure standing at the bottom of the pit.

“Move and I’ll fucking shoot you,” you yelled. No response, just the sound of heavy breathing. “You infected?”

Your name was whispered into the air like a breath of something you never thought you’d hear again. That beautiful, rugged, rich voice. The voice that you loved, so dearly. The voice that you hated.

“Joel?”

“It’s me, honey,” he was breathless. It was almost as if it was his first moment of rest in twenty years.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath faltering for a moment. You didn’t let the tears threatening to pool in your eyes spill. Instead, you threw your rifle to the side and got on your knees, reaching into the dark pit. “Take my hand.”

Extending your hand, you almost immediately felt his large, rough one envelop yours. You used most of your strength to pull him up, him hoisting himself up once he got a good grip. He falls on top of you with the momentum, catching himself before his figure crushes yours. You could feel his heavy breath on your face, painting invisible lines of what you both want. A sea in his eyes, pooling with everything that’s happened since he left you, with everything he wanted to say, everything he wants to say. You lean into him a little, breath hitching and brows furrowing when he finally attaches his lips to yours.

It was like an oxygen mask, breathing you to life. It was more desperate than any kiss you had shared. He was here, in your hands. He was alive. He was heart and flesh and blood and he was with you again.

Your arms pulled him in close until he groaned into your mouth. You pulled away to study his face. He didn’t meet your eyes, instead, absorbing every feature of your face that he had missed for so long.

You began to lift his shirt to see why he had groaned, but his hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Joel,” you warned. “Lift up your shirt.”

“Take me to dinner first, hey?” He chuckled. He was stalling. He didn’t want you to see whatever was under his shirt.

You gave him a warning look before he gave in. Sitting up, you gently lifted his shirt. There wasn’t a concerning amount of blood for once, just small lacerations here and there that might need a few stitches. However, the skin underneath the marks was full of vibrant purples and blues and yellows, painted across the flesh of his abdomen like some sick piece of art. A small gasp left your lips at the sight, but Joel tilted your chin up to look at him, pulling his shirt down with his other hand.

“Just fell, darlin’. I’d do it all again to get to you.”

Heat spread across your face, tinting your cheeks. All the resentment you had for him fizzled away (but was it really resentment if you could forgive him with just one kiss? Or maybe that was just the power Joel had over you).

“Let me patch you up, cowboy,” you said as you stood up, grabbing your rifle and pulling him up with you. “Come on.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Leading him through the house by his hand, the silence settled nicely. Something unspoken lingered between you two, remnants of what happened still drifting. Ideas of what might happen were tempting.

You led him to the bathroom, instructing him to sit on the counter. You opened the cabinet and grabbed everything you’d need.

“It’s like every time we meet, you’re on the verge of death, Miller,” you said as you laid your supplies out.

He grunted. “Not on the verge of death right now, honey. Just a little banged up, is all.” You told him to take off his shirt. He did so without a word of protest. “I’m just lucky I’ve always got my favourite girl to patch me up.” His hands reached for you, wanting you to be close to him. He grabbed your hips and positioned you in front of him, between his legs. You didn’t look away from the cuts and bruises on his chest and stomach.

“Not always, apparently,” you muttered under your breath as you began to dab his chest with a damp rag, washing away the brutality of what he went through to get to you. His brows furrowed, his hand moving to your wrist.

“Don’t be like that, honey.”

“Fuck you,” you whispered, pulling your wrist from his grasp and going back to your task. You were both silent as you cleaned his chest, both avoiding eye contact.

You grabbed the dated peroxide. “Might hurt.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. He made no noise when you applied it to the areas of concern, but the cords in his neck tightened nonetheless.

“Sorry,” you whispered, the desire to sooth him and shut him up with your mouth still clawing at you. He grunts in acknowledgement. You continued to clean him up, till all his wounds were stitched and his skin was clean of blood.

“Done,” you finally spoke, throwing out the dirty rags and cleaning up. You went to move past him to get out of the bathroom, but he slid off the counter and blocked your exit. Your face was only a few inches from his chest. “Joel,” you warned, “let me out.”

“Not 'till you tell me why you’re so mad at me, darlin’,” he said, his voice gruff yet soft. His hands slid up and down your arms, which were on your hips.

You tried to push past him again, but he didn't budge.

You huffed, and his eyes softened, large hands moving to cup your face. “You don't know how much I missed you,” he said, brows furrowed.

You closed your eyes. “I do know.” You felt him press his forehead to yours, and you reciprocated, hands moving to hold his wrists. You didn't have the energy to be mad at him anymore. You just wanted him.

“Then let me show you,” he whispered, breath fanning over your lips, driving you wild. Everything about him was intoxicating.

His lips found yours again, still needy and fervent, but there was something more. Something hungry. Something growing, something left over.

He pushed you against the bathroom counter, hands moving across your body, touching you everywhere, anywhere he could. His hands ghosted over your breasts, across your thighs, rubbing your hips, caging you in. You whined, “Touch me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. I just need more,” you said, breathless.

At that, he placed you on top of the counter before he lifted your shirt from your body, “Nothin’ underneath? Knew I was comin’,” he said with a smirk. You were breathless as he kissed you again, sliding your pants off your body. He broke from your mouth to lay wet kisses on your neck and chest, biting and sucking his mark into your flesh.

You whimpered when he gently ran a finger over your clothed core, bucking into his hand, desperate for anything more. He groaned when he felt how wet you were, your slick already pooling in your panties. He didn't have it in him to tease you. Not today.

He slid your panties down your legs. You felt the heat of your core come in contact with the air, your slick beginning to drip down your thighs. He dropped to his knees, looking up at you with nothing but pure desire, want, need, and, dare you say, love?

He kisses the soft inside of both thighs, your hands tangling in his hair, before his face hovers over your soaked core. He pressed his head into the inside of your thigh, running a finger through your folds. You moaned at the seating contact, watching as he brought his finger to his lips and captured your slick on his tongue. He moaned, “Missed this pussy.”

He played with your clit experimentally, just to see how wet you could get without his saliva, before the tempting sight of your pussy collapsed him. He dove in like a man starved, licking and sucking, spreading your folds apart to get further inside. Your hands still fisted in his hair as you moaned. He draped one hand across your abdomen to keep you still, hips bucking up into his mouth.

His mouth was a magic ailment, drawing that familiar sensation from you in a matter of no time. The coil in your belly grew, hot and heavy, until his work on your cunt sent you over the edge, gripping his hair and moaning his name.

“That's it, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he said as he worked you through your high. When he noticed you squirming, whispering “s’too much”, he moved from your core and up to your mouth. Your hands spread across his chest, still bare, as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your juices were smeared across his face, glistening in the hair there.

“Take me to bed, cowboy,” you said against his lips.

“Yes Ma’am,” he breathed. He picked you up, wrapping your legs around his body, and carried you to your bedroom. You pressed kisses across his neck and chest as he moved.

When he laid you down on the bed, he caged you underneath him. You reached to his belt, unbuckling it and throwing it to the side. He removed his pants, and you began palming him over his boxers. He was rock hard, eating you out almost getting him there in itself.

“Please,” you said, nearly inaudible. “Will you let me taste you?” You stroked his bulge.

“Fuck, honey. How could I say no to that?”

You rolled so you were on top of him, freeing his thick cock from its constraint. He sat up on the edge of the bed, you sinking between his legs.

You stroked his cock, smearing the precum around the tip. He was sensitive. You could tell he hadn't had anyone since you, and he definitely didn't have the time to take care of himself. He groaned as you began giving kitten licks to his tip, hand fisting in your locks, not guiding you, just needing a place to find solace.

“Gonna be the end of me,” he groaned when you put him fully in your mouth. He threw his head back, tears pricking your eyes when you tried to take him all. He was desperate for his release, but he was desperate to release inside of you even more.

“Baby, m’ not gonna last. Wanna finish inside of you,” he groaned. You lifted your head from his cock, wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth, eyes wet.

“So pretty. C’mere,” he said, gesturing to his lap.

You climbed atop him. “Wanna ride you,” you said, sucking into his neck.

“Fuck, okay. Okay, you can ride me honey,” he said. You were absolutely ruining him.

You kissed him silly, straddling his lap. He was so enamoured with you, everything you did. The way you tasted, smelled, sounded. He was pussy drunk.

You parted from him to run his tip through your entrance, still soaked with your cum and his saliva, collecting your wetness. Lining him up with your entrance, you moaned into each other’s mouths when you sunk down onto him. Allowing yourself a moment to feel him sheathed fully inside you, stretching you out, filling you up, letting your body remember the way you blended together, you kissed him with a renewed passion, something you thought had died.

You held onto his shoulders as support, his large hands gripping your hips, gritting his teeth. When you lifted yourself off of him and back down, you set a desperate pace, grinding yourself down on his cock.

“Not gonna last long, pretty thing,” Joel groaned, eyes fixed on where you were connected. You were too set on your release to care, you just knew you wanted him inside you forever.

“Don’t care,” you gritted out, panting and out of breath. The noises filling the air were downright unholy, but neither of you had it in yourself to care. “Want you to fill me up.”

Joel growled, “Fuck, honey. Fill you up so good, you’ll be dripping out of me. That what you want?” He asked, landing a smack to your ass as you bounced on his cock. You moaned. Your release was right around the corner, your cunt clenching hard on his cock, thighs beginning to tremble. Joel moved a hand to circle your clit, hell-bent on getting you there. “So pretty,” Joel said, almost whimpering. “So good for me. Squeezin’ me so good.”

His words went straight to the fire growing in your core, your slick pooling at the base of his cock. Finally, the coil snapped, your orgasm dancing down your legs and up your body. Your thighs and frame trembled as you tried, you really tried, to keep bouncing on his cock, but your thighs were too weak at this point to keep going. Fixed on release, Joel flipped you so you were caged underneath him, barely missing a beat before spearing his cock into you. He swallowed your overstimulated whimpers.

“Gonna make a mess out of you. Fuck, almost there,” he groaned.

“Inside, inside, please,” you choked out, still delirious from your previous orgasm. However, you felt another one building inside of you, the friction of his body as it rubbed against yours added to your previous stimulation was enough to get you there again. You lazily toyed with your swollen clit, not having enough energy to focus, yet you knew it wouldn’t take much.

Joel barely noticed your state as his hips faltered in their pace, hitting that sweet spot so good. You had barely any control left over your body, but as he groaned and the muscles in his front tightened, the feeling of his hot seed filling you up was enough to send you into a frenzy. He groaned into your neck, your loud, wanton moans filling the air. As he filled you to the brim, you shook underneath him, your third orgasm overtaking you.

When he had recovered, Joel looked down to where you both met, taking note of the creamy ring formed around the base of his cock. He grinned, still breathless, as he gently unsheathed himself from your core, watching you squirm and wrinkle your nose at the overstimulation. He laid down next to you, and you naturally curled into him.

It was still morning, the rest of the day still ahead of you, but as Joel pulled the blanket over the two of you and watched your chest heave, he had the feeling that time didn’t matter anymore.

Your eyes fluttered open and met his. You noted how sore your body was, but the pull at your heart was no match. He had been watching you sleep, watching as you cuddled into his warmth and trusted him enough to hold you as you slept. The bright daylight filled the room, lighting up all his features, shining on the pretty grey in his hair and beard.

“How’d you sleep, honey?” he asked, his voice gravelly. You could feel his heart beating as you laid against his chest.

You hummed, “Better than I have in a long time.”

He smiled. There was a soft silence for a while as you just looked at each other, his hand stroking the skin of your face, kissing your cheeks and forehead, down the bridge of your nose, and ending at your lips. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

Your easy grin faltered for a moment. “It’s okay. I just…” you breathed in, “I thought you were dead.”

He pulled you into his chest. “I’m okay. ‘M right here, darlin’.”

You leaned into his touch, basking in the knowledge that you weren’t going to lose him again.

“Come back to Jackson with me.”

“Jackson? In Wyoming?”

He nodded.

“Joel, that’s far…”

“I’ve made the trip twice now.”

You were silent for a few moments, thinking. He spoke again. “I know this is your home, and it’s been your home for years. And I-”

“Joel,” you cut him off. “Anywhere you go is my home. I’ll come to Jackson with you.”

Joel Miller’s smile was something rarer than diamonds or gold, but it appeared on his face as real as ever.

Joel kissed you like the world had never ended, like you were his world. That’s because you were.

A week of bliss later, you had packed everything you’d possibly think you’d need on one horse and two backpacks. You’d set all your cattle free to roam and disarmed your alarm system. You had made Joel map out your route to Jackson, ever the planner, going through every minute detail. Nights were spent wrapped around each other, and mornings were spent wrapped around the blankets. You spoke of the life you would have together in Jackson, spoke about Ellie, spoke about everything.

Often, you’d look up at Joel and be met with a punch to the gut. The idea that the man you spent two years of your life praying for, standing right in front of you? It hit you out of nowhere sometimes. It was hard to be thankful in a world like this, in a world that did nothing but take and take and take from you. It was hard to believe that he was really here, that the world gave you something good for once. Sometimes, you’d have to touch him, really touch him, just to make sure he was really here. Just to make sure you hadn’t finally gone crazy and started to imagine him.

You began to fear that the world was going to whisk him away from you. Maybe a clicker would get him, or maybe a stalker. Maybe you’d react too slow, too quick, too late, too poorly, and he’d try to save you. Maybe he’d get another infection. God knows that man does not take care of himself.

These fears plagued your mind day and night, awake and asleep. They brushed your thoughts when he touched you, fingers working you into a puddle, you melting into him. These thoughts were unspoken, never would they be said aloud, or they just might seize you in your sleep and become real.

When you got to Jackson, the fear of losing him never ceased, but you did come to realize something.

You realized that what you were feeling, this utter, disgusting dread and fear of losing the one you love the most, was completely natural.

You loved Joel with all of yourself, and you knew that if anything happened to him, you’d lose all of yourself too.

After so long, your hearts were molded to one another, holding on for dear life. And you’d spend that life together. Truly and forever.

series taglist: @winters-fairy @charlyrmv @gvfslayallday @cloudroomblog @lol-im-done @freyafriggafrey @jasminedragoon @daddy-din @dealswiththedevilsblog @coolchick333 @rizzetteee @m3laniehearts @fuglyputa24 @daixylie @mi0o @kissykris @c0wb0ym3nace @snixx2088 @randomstory56 @mmeerraa @doublevirgogirl @daydreamerblues @onlyrealjoy @happinessinthebeing @leathargic @violenttsoho @gingerdarkroast @intoxicatedapple @callsign-athena @cherriebat @sofiparallel @textsfromeponinet

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#joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader fluff #joel miller x reader angst #the last of us #tlou #hbo's tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x reader smut

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rollingsins · 1 year

Text

three's a crowd, part six

summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au.

pairing: emma myers x reader, jenna ortega x reader

warnings: language, angst, 18+, implied smut.

word count: 4k

a/n: the angst gremlin wrote this chapter again, i take no responsibility for anyone's tears.

Georgie’s with Jenna for most of the weekend.

You ask him to keep tabs on her, check she’s okay and so he sends you regular updates. It’s not easy, he claims, trying to keep tabs on someone who wants to be left alone.

But the last thing you want is for her to be alone right now. You ask him to persist.

Emma’s with Johnna most of Saturday.

You watch her Instagram stories, try not to bubble with jealousy. But by night time, she’s calling you up and asking you to come over.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You’re asking, takeout in hand as she lets you through the door.

“No,” Emma says, voice coy.

She tilts her head, leans up and kisses you.

Your eyes flutter closed. You’re not used to it yet, kissing her like this. Soft, almost sweet. No anger behind it.

It feels like it could be a new beginning.

She pulls you by your shirt into her, sinking back down onto the couch as you climb on top of her. You thread your fingers through her blonde hair, moan slightly at the way she grips your hips pulling you down into her.

And then your phone starts buzzing.

“Ignore it,” Emma murmurs. Her eyes are impossibly dark, lips wet, red from kissing. You duck down and kiss her again. Arousal surges through you, settling low in your belly.

You want her so bad.

You tell her by kissing her feverishly. You tilt her head up to you, slipping your tongue between her lips. She groans as your hands wander. Cup her breasts through her shirt, then settle down at the edge of her shirt, trying to tug it off.

You abandon her lips for her neck, line hot kisses at the pulse of her jawline, loving the way she responds under you. Quiet murmurs, body tilting up to you.

And then your phone is buzzing again.

You groan, slump down and duck your head between your neck.

“Who the fuck is that?” You’re asking as you tilt your body over to to each for your phone.

You’ll kill whoever it is. Maybe Hunter, trying to rope you into another game night. Definitely not Joy, whose policy lately had been the less of you the better.

It’s Georgie, as you should have guessed.

Four missed calls. Seven texts. You furrow your brow, wondering what on earth he could want so urgently.

On the fifth call, you answer immediately.

“Georgie, you better be dying-” You say. Emma squeezes your hips in the kind of way that makes you want to hang up the phone and press her down into the sofa. But Georgie’s voice is sounding before you get the chance.

“YN, you need to come here right now,” He says. He sounds desperate. The line is a little fuzzy, like he’s moving around. Your heartbeat spikes as you remember who he’s with.

“Is it Jenna?” You ask, sitting up. Anxiety rushes through you, “Is she okay?”

You don’t care Emma’s sitting right next to you. A wave of sickness rolls through you as your mind runs wild with the possibilities. You imagine her, glass of whiskey in her hand, threatening to throw herself off the apartment balcony. Or worse.

“What’s wrong with Jenna?” Emma asks immediately. You climb off her, instead moving to pace, “Is she okay?”

You press your ear a little closer to the phone.

“Georgie, what’s going on?”

“She’s freaking out, she’s telling me she wants to quit the show. She has her agent on the line right now.”

“Start with that, next time Georgie,” You hiss, as relief floods through you, “I thought she was hurt.”

“She will be hurt. A lot hurt if she goes through with it,” Georgie says, sounding panicked, “There’s no way they’ll let her out of the contract. I mean, she is the show. Netflix will sue her for all she has.”

“What’s going on?” Emma tugs at your arm, her eyes wide, “Is she okay?”

You squeeze her hand, tilt the phone away from your ear only slightly.

“She wants to quit the show,” You tell her, “Georgie, I’m putting you on speaker.”

Emma blinks. Her hands drop. But she’s the least of your concerns right now.

“Where is she now? Can you put her on the phone?” You ask, voice urgent.

“She’s talking to her agent. I think it’s better if you come down here in person.” Georgie says, “She won’t listen to me, but she’ll listen to you.”

You seriously doubt that. After all, you’re the reason she wants to quit in the first place. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.

You bite your lip.

“I’ll try, but Georgie-”

“I’ll do it,” Emma says, suddenly, “I’ll talk to her.”

Georgie’s silence down the other line mirrors yours. Emma stands, pulling on her jacket. A spring of determination in her step.

“Emma,” You say, treading carefully, “Is that- the best idea? You and her haven’t exactly seen eye to eye over the last few weeks.”

An understatement. Emma’s been ignoring Jenna for weeks now. And you’re a little concerned talking with Emma will push her right over the edge.

Emma frowns.

“Exactly,” She says, chewing her lip, “Maybe I was too hard on her Friday. I didn’t mean to be so harsh-”

She looks genuinely distressed. You rub her arm, suddenly your fears off Emma and Jenna throwing each other off the balcony quelled.

“I know you didn’t,” You say squeezing her hand, “Georgie, we’ll be there in five.”

Jenna’s madly pacing on her balcony, phone pressed to her ear when you arrive.

You all but knock Georgie over in your effort to get to her, Emma not far behind. And then stop in your tracks when you see the party in the living room.

Hunter and Joy are watching Jenna pace, matching expressions of worry on their faces. You frown, blinking slightly as you see them. Joy looks over to you, matches your frown with one of her own.

“What are you two doing here?” Joy asks, looking confused. She looks to Georgie.

“Georgie, is having them here really the best idea?”

“I’m not going to snap at her,” Emma says, biting her lip. She’s wringing her hands, anxiously, “I’m just going to talk. She’s quitting because of me.”

“Not just you,” Hunter says, eyeing you.

Georgie waves his hands about. He steps between you, trying to pull you to the door.

“It doesn’t matter why she’s quitting. What matters is getting her to stop. Go, YN.”

But Emma stops you. You all look as she takes a deep breath.

“No,” She says, looking determined, “It has to be me.”

Georgie, in all his panicked frenzy, makes several cups of coffee. He paces back and forth, prying half-full cups out of people’s hands and replacing them with new ones every few minutes, unable to keep still.

“Georgie, relax.” You say, after your third cup, “I don’t think all this caffeine is helping anyone.”

“If she quits it’s over,” He says, eyes flashing, “For everyone. We’ll get canceled, she’ll get sued. Blacklisted, maybe. She’ll never work in film again. And she loves working in film-”

“That’s not going to happen, Georgie.” Joy assures. She reaches out for him, tugs him into her, rubbing his back, “She’ll come to her senses. We’re all here to help her come to her senses.”

“What do you think they’re saying?” You ask, peering out onto the balcony.

They’ve been out there for almost twenty minutes and from what you can see, the conversation hasn’t stopped flowing. Their body language is hard to read. Jenna’s tense, Emma’s standing so far away from her they might as well be on different balconies. You squint, try to read Emma’s lips.

“Maybe they’re working out a custody agreement,” Hunter says, voice dry, “Emma gets to fuck you on weekdays, Jenna gets the weekend.”

“That’s not funny.” You snap.

Georgie intervenes, “Let’s not turn on each other,” He says, holding out his hands, “We’re all here for the same reason. We care about Jenna and we don’t want her to do something stupid.”

Hunter leans back in his seat. Settles for watching the exchange outside like it’s a show.

“You’re right,” He says, quietly, “Sorry YN.”

But you’re not listening to him. Emma’s leaning in a little closer, her façade softening. Jenna looks upset. They’ve locked eyes. Emma lifts her thumb to her mouth, chews on her fingernails as Jenna speaks.

“Should we call someone?” Joy asks, “A producer or something?”

“No,” Georgie and Hunter say in unison. Georgie clears his throat, “They’ll get all legal about it. It’s a last resort.”

You tilt your head. Emma says something, then touches Jenna’s arm. You blink, wondering if you’ve imagined it. And then Emma’s opening the door, leaving Jenna outside on the balcony.

She blinks at the sea of worried faces.

“So?” Hunter asks, sitting up, “How did it go?”

“She’s not quitting,” Emma says, simply. She reaches for her coat, “We talked it out.”

Joy blinks.

“And that was it? You convinced her?”

“Yeah.” Emma says. She looks exhausted, like she’s just run a twenty-six mile marathon, “You guys can go out if you want, but I think she’d rather be left alone.”

“You go Georgie.” You suggest, “Let’s not crowd her.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He leaps up, hurries to the sliding door. You watch as he puts an arm around her, concern still written all over his face.

You look up at Emma as she slides her shoes back on.

“Are we going?”

“You can stay if you want,” She offers but you shake your head.

Whatever magic she’d worked on the balcony, the last thing you want is to undo it. If anything, you’d rather slip out before Jenna even knows you’re here. It’s better that way. Easier.

“Let’s go.”

You sit in the passenger seat of Emma’s car as she pulls out of the lot, squeezing your own fingers. You have questions, a lot of questions, but Emma’s mood isn't exactly forthcoming. She’s acting weird, withdrawn. She tilts her hand away from yours when you try to touch it over the console.

So you bite your lip and hold your tongue for as long as you can.

Which is about three and a half minutes.

“What did you guys talk about?” You ask, unable to keep your tone casual. Uneasiness brews in your stomach. Undoubtedly, you were the subject of conversation, and you don’t like not knowing what was said.

Emma looks pensive. Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel, “We just talked. About everything.”

You hum. Tap your fingers against the dash. Her vague answer doing nothing to stop the rush of anxiety swelling through you.

“Okay. Did you want to go into a little more detail?”

“Maybe later,” She says, voice clipped and you can tell that’s the end of it.

You sit back in your seat, a little disappointed.

She’s quiet for a moment, the car silent except for the blare of the radio and the quiet hum of the engine. It’s unsettling.

“I’m going to take you home,” She says, after a while, “We can talk tomorrow.”

“Oh,” You say, sounding a little put out, “Okay. I just thought we were going to hang out tonight.”

You’d picked out a film and everything. Stacked your cupboards with sour patch and toffee popcorn - her favorite snacks.

And shaved everything head to toe. This isn't how the night was supposed to go.

“I’m just not feeling up to it anymore,” She says. Her eyes are on the road and she won’t look at you. You cross your arms. Doubt seeps through your body, one little factor niggling at the pit of your stomach.

“And are you up to seeing Johnna? That’s where you’re going, right?”

She avoids your eyes. Swallows.

“Let’s not do this now,” She says and it all but confirms it.

Hurt flashes through you. Your heart seizes painfully. Because of course that’s where she’s going.

“You know I don’t mind you seeing both of us,” You say, voice tight, even though it’s a lie. You very much minded her seeing Johnna, “But to ditch me for her even though we made plans is pretty shitty.”

Emma sighs. Her grip on the wheel is iron-tight.

“I won’t see her then. I’ll go home,” She says, like she doesn’t want to fight about this, “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” You say, dead-panned.

The radio plays some stupid pop song. It grates at your nerves, perhaps more than it should. You switch it off, wanting to stew in silence. Emma looks over at you.

“It’s just been a long day,” She says, after a painful moment, “I have to… process.”

“It’s fine,” You say, un-buckling your seatbelt as she pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, “It’s whatever.”

And then you leave her sitting in her car.

You watch the movie alone.

Gulp down an entire pack of the sour patch kids you’d bought for Emma. But you can’t concentrate. You feel sick at the thought of Emma with Johnna. Whispering the sweet nothings that should have been yours in her ear.

And above all else, you can’t get Jenna out of your mind.

You contemplate calling Georgie again but it doesn't feel like enough. Keeping tabs on her from a distance seems so silly after today. You want to hear her voice, want to hear in her own words that she’s okay and she isn’t going anywhere.

And so you pull your phone out of your pocket and dial her number before you can think too hard about it.

At first, you think she’s going to let it ring out. Thirty seconds pass with no answer.

But then, you hear her voice.

“Hi.” She says.

“Hi.” You say.

There’s a moment of silence. You close your eyes, trying to muster the strength to talk.

“I'm sorry about all that at the apartment,” You say, “We weren’t trying to ambush you.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“It’s okay,” She says, finally, “You guys were right. I’d get sued to kingdom come.”

It’s awkward. You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to pry into her conversation with Emma, even though it’s the thing you’re most desperate to talk about. She speaks before you can bring it up.

“You can call Georgie off, you know.”

“Huh?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Georgie. You can tell him to go home. He’s been hovering all weekend like a stray dog. I know you put him up to it.”

“Or maybe Georgie just cares about you,” You suggest. It’s not entirely a lie.

But she sees through it.

“I’m okay,” She says, “I’m not going to freak out again and try to quit my job. Or drive myself off a cliff or whatever it is you were worried about. But I appreciate it. I appreciate you thinking about me.”

“Okay.” You say, a little hesitant, “I’ll call him off.”

The line goes quiet, so quiet you think you’ve lost her. Then she says, “And I’m here for you too. When you need it. If you need it.”

There’s something in her voice, ambiguity, like she’s trying not to let too much on. Like she knows something you don’t.

You frown.

“Okay?”

“I should go,” She says, quietly, “Thanks for calling.”

Emma spends Sunday with Johnna. And Monday. And Tuesday.

You only know this because of the clipped text messages you get when you ask if she’s free.

With Johnna, talk later xx.

Three days in a row.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s avoiding you. Either too enraptured with her new side-piece or maybe because she’s finally had enough of you.

It doesn't occur to you that maybe you could be the side-piece now.

To distract yourself from the burning hot jealousy that is permanently settled in your stomach, you spend your days bothering Georgie.

“How did she seem?” You ask over a latte. The café is bustling, the sound of coffee beans grinding and punters shouting out orders does nothing to quell the anxiety in your bones.

Georgie groans. He puts down his croissant and stares over at you.

“She seemed fine. How many times are you going to ask?”

You hadn’t spoken to Jenna since your brief phone conversation on Saturday, but you’d spent the days after worrying about her. It wasn’t a small thing - to want to quit an entire production, and you can’t help but want to know she’s okay. In truth - when you weren’t toiling about whatever it is Emma’s doing with Johnna - your mind is on Jenna.

“Have you spoken with her since?” You ask, chewing your lip, “I’m just worried she has no one to talk to.”

“She’s not Nigel-no-mates,” Georgie says, taking a sip of his coffee, “She has family and friends back home. I’m sure she’s talking to them.”

Jenna doesn’t strike you as the kind of person who talks about things like this. You know it because you’re exactly the same.

Internalize, internalize, internalize.

It’s not healthy. You know it by heart; it’s ripping you apart.

“Maybe I should call her again,” You wonder aloud. Georgie gives you a look.

“And how would Emma feel about that?” He asks, like you already know the answer.

You shrug, look down at your open messages.

Miss you xx

You’d sent it three hours ago. And she’d left you on read.

“I doubt she’d care,” You say, sinking back into your seat, “She’s too busy with Johnna.”

Georgie looks over at you from the rim of his glass. He has questions, you can see them brewing in his eyes. You drop your phone to the table, sighing.

“She still hasn’t texted you back then?” He asks.

“Nope.” You say. You fidget in your seat, feeling more than a little on edge.

“I’m sure she’s just decompressing,” Georgie says, trying to be helpful, “That conversation with Jenna can’t have been easy.”

“Maybe,” You hum, “Or maybe she’s just realized I’m not worth it after all. And Johnna’s pretty. Prettier than me-”

“No, she’s not,” Georgie says firmly, “Stop it. Emma’s goo-goo eyed for you. This Johnna thing - she’s just protecting herself.”

You pick at your nails.

Georgie pauses. He watches you, his words careful.

“And if Emma is catching feelings for Johnna, maybe it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.”

At this you look up. Stare at him like he’s crazy.

“How is that not a bad thing?” You ask, voice high.

Georgie shrugs. Bites his lip like he’s not sure if he should say. Your aggrieved stare pulls it out of him.

“I’m just saying, maybe it’s not meant to be. Maybe you’re supposed to be with someone else.”

A lump rises in the back of your throat. A barista shouts someone’s name. Suddenly, it’s too hot in here.

“Georgie, I don’t even want to go there-”

“Jenna’s a professional,” Georgie cuts in before you can stop him, “She’s the hardest worker I’ve ever known. And she loves her job. But she wanted to quit. Because it was all too much. Because of you. Seeing you with Emma-”

“She wanted to quit because I made things awkward,” You say, “She wanted to quit because I made Emma hate her.”

“Maybe,” Georgie says, smoothly. He picks up his croissant, "Or maybe not. That’s all I’m saying.”

Emma finally texts you back as you’re walking home.

Can I come by in 20?

You text her back, embarrassingly fast. Take the quickest shower of your life and wear the sluttiest outfit you can find. You're touch-starved - three days without her. You want to look so good she forgets Johnna's name. You finish up with your eyeliner, and then wait like a housewife by the front door to greet her when she finally shows up.

She’s dressed down, no make-up. She looks beautiful, if not tired. Squeezes your hand as you let her in. If she notices the tiny mini-skirt you're wearing, she doesn't say anything.

“Do you want a drink?” You’re asking as she settles down into the sofa. You feel uneasy. She's acting weird. Distant. Like she's not really here.

She shakes her head.

“Come over here,” She says, patting the spot next to her, “Let’s talk.”

Suddenly, you’re filled with dread. Her knee is bobbing up and down, like she’s nervous about something. She’d rejected your kiss at the door, tilting her head so your lips hit her cheek instead.

And she’d ignored you all weekend.

You swallow, hard. Hands fall limp to your side. The walk to the sofa feels like a death march.

It's nothing, you try and tell yourself, she's just stressed out.

But it doesn't feel like nothing. It feels like something ominous.

You settle next to her, eyebrows furrowed. She’s avoiding your gaze, suddenly very interested in the books you have stacked on the coffee table.

And suddenly you just know.

“I know things have been… weird,” She starts, chewing her lip. She's blinking too much, still avoiding your eyes, “Since Saturday. No - not since Saturday. Since… since we started this.” She gestures between you.

All you can do is stare, heart in your throat.

You look at her hands. They’re moving far too much. Picking at her own cuticles like she doesn’t know what to do with them.

“And I know mistakes have been made. On both our parts. And I’m sorry for that.”

You blink a few times. Suddenly she’s looking at you, blue eyes filled with concern. Anxiety. Trepidation.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” She’s saying but you can barely hear her. There’s a distant ringing in your own ears, anxiety churning deep within your stomach as your fight or flight kicks in. You can feel your own hands shaking.

It's happening. She's finally breaking up with you.

“Love isn’t supposed to be hard,” She says, voice earnest, “It’s supposed to be easy. It’s supposed to be two people on the same level. Feeling the same vibe. Not one person in and one person out.”

“Uh huh,” You say, voice hollow, “Except that’s not true. In all the books, in all the poems, in all the stories, it’s never easy. It’s hard and soul-crushing and worth it in the end.”

Something awakens in you. It’s the fight taking over. You don't want this. You don't want it to end. You don't want her to be distant, or aloof and you certainly don't want her to break up with you.

Not now. Not after everything. Not after all you'd given up.

You seize her hands, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make her see.

But she jerks back, withdrawing her hands like yours burn her.

“That’s fiction, YN,” She says, eyes sad, “And that’s not want I want love to be. Not for me.”

You swallow.

“So you’re picking Johnna because it’s easy?” You ask. You can’t keep the bitterness out of your voice. Fire swells in your chest, hatred for Johnna even though it’s not her fault. Even though you’re the one who ruined it. You had Emma and you blew it.

“This has nothing to do with Johnna,” Emma says. There’s exhaustion in her voice. She’s tired of fighting, you can hear it, “You and I - we tried and it didn’t work.”

“But it is working,” You plead. You want to reach for her again but you know she’ll just throw you off. Break your heart into tiny, bite sized pieces, “I know we had a bumpy start, but Jenna isn’t a factor anymore. I picked you.”

Emma flinches at Jenna’s name. Your speech does nothing to settle her. If anything, it makes her eyes harden.

“You didn’t pick me,” She says, slowly, “You got stuck with me. It’s not the same thing. Your first choice bailed so you settled for your second.”

It hurts you, somewhere deep down. You want to argue, you want to protest until you're blue in the face. But it isn't not true. She's right, even if you'll never admit it.

She watches you a moment. Her eyes a mesh of sorrow and hurt and heartbreak. Mirroring your own.

“This is what’s best for everyone.” She concludes. Her voice is final.

You tilt your head back, try to quell the tide of tears threatening to spill. You’ll not cry in front of her. If you can control anything about this situation it’s that. You sit up slightly, take a deep breath before you look her in the eye.

“Fine,” You say, voice shaky, betraying your emotion, “I hope you and Johnna will be very happy together.”

“YN-”

“I’d like you to go now,” You say, “Please.”

She pauses, looking like she wants to say something more. But she holds in it, and that you’re grateful for.

She stands, legs shaky as she walks to the door. It occurs to you this must be as hard for her as it is for you.

But you don’t follow. If you move, you’re not quite sure you won’t collapse to the ground. Maybe you want to collapse to the ground. Have it open up and swallow you whole. No more Emma, no more Jenna, no more pain.

Just a quick ride to nothingness.

Right now, there's nothing more appealing.

But the ground doesn't open, and you don't feel nothing. You feel everything. Sorrow, guilt, pain, dread, anxiety, hurt. It's too much. Your mind screams. Your hands shake. The lump in your throat is so big it hurts to swallow. Your eyes prick, warning you. You squeeze them shut.

One more minute, you beg them, please.

Emma's at the door. She hovers, turning around to look at you once more.

“I’m sorry.” Is all she says.

You clench your jaw, waiting for the door to click shut.

And when she leaves, you can’t stop the wave of tears from flooding over.

next part

#three's a crowd #love triangle fic #mine #fanfic #jenna ortega #emma myers #wednesday #emma myers x reader #emma myers x you #emma myers x yn #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x yn #jenna ortega x you

688 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 3 months

Text

notes: i did this instead of anything in my inbox. sorry but it overtook me and became much longer than I thought. also I wrote raphael as the little sub he is teehee.

relationships: raphael x reader; enver gortash & reader (platonic, parent & child); eventual enver gortash x tav

words: 4k

rating: E

summary: a warlock of Raphael's, you visit the House of Hope one day and find a child. he cannot remain there.

Your life, really, is fine. Maybe a bit empty. But fine.

You’ve had Raphael as your Warlock patron for a while now. It’s fine too, he’s fine, there are definitely worse devils to be indebted to - the fact he’s attractive isn’t so bad either. You started fucking a few years ago and he’s basically wrapped around your little finger at this point. He’s still annoying as all hells but he bottoms well enough and the two of you enjoy being on each other’s good side, so it works out. Mostly what he has you do is track down and kill people who’ve pissed him off - and a lot of people have pissed him off, he’s very piss off-able to be fair, so there’s always plenty of jobs and you come to the House of Hope often, in between the mercenary work you do to survive.

This time you just finished hunting down someone who tried to weasel out of their contract. Raphael had you bring him the man’s head as proof of your work, and then you made him give you head after. Par for the course nowadays.

You peel yourself out of Raphael’s embrace as he bathes in the afterglow of getting spoiled in bed by you. You throw on your pants, and go to grab a bite to eat. Your patron always has a feast ready. It’s something to keep his servants distracted with, the constant cooking and replacing of dishes, and it’s nice to never be hungry when you’re here. You saunter into the banquet room and go to pick up a fistful of grapes…

… pausing when you see something utterly fucking shocking.

A little boy. Making himself as small as possible, dark messy hair and darker sunken eyes, all curled up by the fire. He looks at you with terror and you yelp in surprise, grabbing a spare tablecloth to quickly cover yourself with.

“What the fuck?!” you manage, looking around for answers to the unasked question. Nobody is here to give you any. Fucking lost souls, never here when you need them. You turn back to the boy who looks utterly terrified. “Are you meant to be here?”

He visibly swallows, nervous, and nods. Okay, right, great. Kid in the middle of hell. Of course. You're about to find Raphael and give him a grilling, when you hear a little stomach rumble.

You freeze, raise an eyebrow. Almost impossibly he shrinks further into himself.

“Have you eaten, kiddo?”

He shakes his head, unable to meet your eyes. Oh, well, that won’t do.

You grab a plate and begin to load it up with food for him. He looks hopeful though he tries not to show it too much, as if you’ll punish him for the very idea of it. Gods it must have been torture for the child, sitting in front of a banquet with no invitation to gorge.

When the plate is so full that it threatens to spill over, you squat down and put it in front of him. The boy stares at it for a long moment before looking up at you.

“Go on. Dig in.”

It’s all the permission he needs. He tears into the food you’ve presented as if he’s never eaten before. As if it is ambrosia. You watch him wolf down chicken thighs so fast that he threatens to choke on them, and you feel your heart ache at the wretched sight.

“This really isn’t a place for kids. What’s your name, lad?” you ask, absent-mindedly swiping some greasy hair out of his eyes. You wonder when was the last time he washed, poor kid. He flinches at your touch a little but doesn’t stop eating, somewhat aware you’re probably the first person he’s met here who doesn’t mean him harm.

“Enver,” he says through mouthfuls of bread. You tell him your name in return, though you aren’t sure if he really listens.

“I didn’t say he could eat.”

Raphael’s voice cuts through the moment, severe, and the boy freezes mid-bite. Terror floods him. He begins to visibly shake.

Oh, no. No. You won’t be having that.

You speak aloud, voice firm.

“Well, I said he could. Ignore him, kiddo.”

You stand and put yourself between your patron and the child. This little boy has no idea who you are, but he can sense that you have some sort of power over the demon who’s walked into the room. Timidly he continues his meal. When you’re satisfied you turn to your devil, thunderous.

“Raphael? A word.”

Your tone leaves no wiggle room. He harrumphs and follows you far out of the boy’s earshot, where you unleash your fury.

“Why is there a fucking child here, Raphael?!” He rolls his eyes.

“Oh, his parents sold him to me. Well, to one of my other warlocks, actually, so through the upline he’s mine.”

He speaks as if reading from the paper, not discussing a child’s life. Your blood boils. You want to slap him, but he’d just enjoy it.

“This is no place for… well, fucking anyone, let alone a literal kid. What were you thinking?!”

He shrugs. For a devil meant to be full of cunning, Raphael rarely actually thinks through his short-term impulses into long-term plans.

“Torture him, I suppose.”

“Don’t you fucking think about it,” you say, hand instinctively summoning your blade. Raphael narrows his eyes.

“Be careful when you reach for your sword, warlock, lest you forget the person who gifted it to you.”

Fuck. Shit. What an arseache. Okay, you can’t go about this by violence, he’s right. You need to be cunning. You let yourself soften and approach him, laying your hands on his chest. He raises an eyebrow but allows you to caress him.

“Raphael, come on. You really want a child hanging around here? He’s going to ruin all our fun. I was going to have you on the banquet table later. You don’t want me to ride you while feeding you slices of apple? You enjoyed it last time…”

Your devil huffs but softens under your touch. Gods he really is easy to manipulate when you know which buttons to press.

“You’re really up in arms about him, aren’t you? Look, they gave him away for a reason. He’s not some sweet innocent. He’s a little bastard, as far as I’ve been told.”

“Please don’t do anything too harsh to him? For me? For your favourite warlock?” you ask, pouting, sliding down Raphael’s body to your knees, ready to nuzzle into his cock in exchange for his agreement.

He sags, weak for you. Got him.

“Ugh. Fine, you win, kitten. Spoilsport,” he mutters, and you slip him out of his underwear.

The next time you see Enver, it’s been a couple of weeks. You’ve just finished up a hunt and are reporting in - but he’s the first thing you check on. You find him sweeping one of the hallways, eyeing a wailing lost soul warily.

“Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?”

He jumps a little, however he looks genuinely pleased to see you. Not enough for him to smile but at least some of the tension leaves him.

“I’m alright,” he says quietly. He still looks sort of greasy. You’ll have to tell Raphael to let him bathe.

“The boss been treating you okay?”

Enver nods.

“Doesn’t really talk to me. Just tells me to do chores.”

Well that’s better than torture, you think. You reach into your pocket, root around for a bit, and hand something to him. His eyes go wide and then narrow in suspicion, and you have to reassure him that it’s not some sort of trick.

“Do you know what that is?”

“A sending stone,” he says, confidently, weighing the blue rock in his hand. You grin.

“Look at you! Clever kid. Yeah, that’s exactly what it is. So I take it you know how they work?”

“Each holder can send a message of twenty-five words a day, and the other can reply with twenty-five. Total of fifty each.”

“Precisely! I’m giving this to you for if there’s an emergency, okay? If you’re in trouble, I want you to give me a message and I’ll get here as quickly as I can.”

He eyes the stone. It’s as if he can’t quite bring himself to believe that someone genuinely cares about his wellbeing.

“Why?” he asks, after a while.

“Because you shouldn’t be down here, and Raphael can be an arsehole. But don’t worry, I can sort him out,” you say with a grin, and for the first time, Enver chuckles. You hear the sound of Raphael calling your name from down the corridor and you roll your eyes.

“Speak of the devil. Take care, Enver, alright? And remember, let me know if there’s a problem.”

He nods, tucking the stone into his pocket before you head off to tie your patron up.

You don’t hear from Enver for a week or so, but one day, when you’re on the road, you get a message coming through.

“Hello. It’s Enver. Are you having a good day?”

You look confused and reply, “Yeah, kiddo, I’m fine. Is there something the matter? Nobody’s hurting you, are they?”

Then, because it is the nature of the stone, you add: “If they are then you just say, I’ll come and set them straight.”

There’s a beat. You can imagine Enver considering his response.

“I’m fine. I just wanted to say hello.”

That’s as much communication as the day will allow but it hits you hard. Oh. He’s lonely.

And from that day on, you have a sort of penpal.

Enver messages you everyday without fail, always excited to see how you’ve been doing. He has very little to report, which you’re thankful for, because you live in fear that he will need to use the stone for its intended purpose. Occasionally he lets you know that Raphael has said something cruel or Haarlep is teasing him, and then it’s just a matter of heading to the hells and setting them straight. Haarlep is like a cat, difficult to make to do anything, but to be honest he’s your friend and will usually acquiesce after some teasing. Raphael is always a bit more difficult to persuade. He still sees the boy as his property, his thing to treat as he’d like, so you have to pull out all of your best tricks in order to convince him.

You always end up coming out on top, though. Funny that.

Your visits to the House of Hope get more regular. Enver greets you with smiles and then with laughs and then with hugs, and you find you’re growing fond of the kid. Every now and then you see a bit of the little bastard Raphael warned you of - you’ll catch him tormenting one of the damned souls down here, or attempting to trap and harass some sort of insect who accidentally crawled through one of the portals. But a soft but firm hand to turn him in the right direction is enough. He’s a boy with a bright future… if he’s nurtured.

And this place has no time for that.

You make the pitch to Raphael one night at the end of a long weekend in hell. You’ve been doing everything he’s asked of you, indulging his every whim, being ever so sweet and obedient for your master - and fucking him within an inch of his life. You relax in his bed, cuddled up to his chest, walking your fingers along the expanse of his pectorals.

“Raphael…” you say, dreamily, and he hums.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to push your luck?” he chuckles. You rearrange yourself to look up at him, eyes wide and wanting.

“Me? Push my luck? Never…” you run your tongue over his nipple and he groans.

“Spit it out then, kitten.”

“It’s the boy, Raphael. Can I have him? Please?”

He huffs.

“Why?”

“Why not? What does he do around here apart from take up space and eat your food? Surely you don’t really want him hanging around, do you? I’d like to be able to ride you and scream your name without the fear we’ll be overheard.”

Raphael considers this for a long time, and for a moment, you think he won’t take the bait.

“You’ll extend your pact with me. I want your soul. Forever,” he decides.

Ah. That’s quite the price. You consider it for a moment.

“...You never get to interfere with Enver’s life again,” you reply, because this is how you deal with devils. Your bargain to gain their respect. He laughs.

“Fine. The boy is off the hook.”

“Done. And I get to take him out of here and do what I want with him, no questions asked. He’s free. And I’ll do that thing you like, right now.”

His eyes sparkle.

“Deal.”

The next morning, body aching, you read through your new contract. You make some amendments in blood but sign it. The rest of your existence signed over to this damned devil. Raphael kisses you on the lips, long and languid - and when you walk out of the House of Hope it’s with Enver’s hand in yours.

“Where are we going?” he asks, quietly. He’s scared. You squeeze his fingers in reassurance.

“Well, I’m on the road a lot. We’ll be travelling. Is that okay with you, kiddo?”

He nods, excited, and you can’t help but notice how much he’s grown since you first met. He’s more than a head taller - gods, how long has he been down here? It’s not worth thinking about. He’s still pretty skinny, but you’ll fix that. Now you’re in charge of feeding him, you'll make sure he gets a good meal every night. Make sure he walks with his back straight and chin up.

Make sure he never has to feel small again.

It isn’t a perfect life, but it’s a damn sight better than what he had to put up with in the Hells. He smiles now, every day. Isn’t scared of people. Slowly grows confidence in himself because he knows that you’re in his corner, come hell or high water (literally). One day you see him drawing in a little notebook you got him, some sort of diagram far more complicated than you can understand - he explains the intricacies of the machine, so you get him some spare parts to start tinkering with. Gods the kid is a natural. So intelligent. Far smarter than you, and you’re worried you’re letting him down because you can’t keep up - but every time he shows you a new invention he seems so pleased when you compliment him.

“Look at you, kiddo! You’re amazing! I bet there’s nothing that you can’t do.”

And he looks like for the first time in his life that he believes what you’re saying.

Life isn’t easy, but it is worth living. You’re on the road more often than not. You don’t have a home to call your own, but you make sure your mercenary work is well-paid enough that you can put the two of you up in inns overnight, keep you both fed and entertained. Enver seems happy and that’s what matters.

You go back to the House of Hope as little as you can, now, reporting in when you do a job and fucking Raphael into submission. He asks you about the boy every once in a while and you palm him off with a laugh, acting as if you barely care about Enver rather than the truth: you’ve been actively putting money away towards a fund for his future.

You come back from one of your meetings late one night. You’re exhausted from what your patron has put you through and are looking forward to sleep. The portal opens into the inn you’ve booked for the night. You expect Enver to be dead to the world, but instead he’s wide awake, sitting cross-legged on his bed.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing up so late? Is everything okay?” you ask, surprised. Enver fidgets with his fingers.

“Does Raphael hurt you?” he blurts out. You’re shocked.

“What?”

“Do you want to be in a contract with him? Because if you don’t, I promise I’ll find a way to free you, like you freed me! I’ll get strong, really strong, and I’ll kill him for you.” His hands are balled into fists, jaw gritted. His eyes are dark in a way that’s troubling and he drops his gaze to his lap.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where’s all this coming from? Kiddo, nothing is wrong. Everything between me and Raphael is fine. I’m not unhappy or being forced into anything, I promise. What’s the matter, Enver, eh?”

When he looks up at you, there are tears pooling. He launches himself into your arms, holding you so tightly it’s as if you’re his anchor to this plane.

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you. I love you…” and then there it is. He calls you ‘mum’, or ‘dad’, or some other word that settles what you already knew: he’s come to think of you as his parent now. He freezes when he hears himself say it and you think back to when he was that scared little boy, longing for a bit of food by the fireplace.

You hold him back.

“I love you too, son,” you tell him, and the two of you stay like that for a long while.

He asks if his last name can become yours. You introduce him as your child. You are a family.

You’re right. He’s far smarter than you are, and you can’t keep up with him. It becomes more and more obvious as he gets older. He goes from brilliant teenager to incredible young man, and you’re glad that you have the funds to be able to send him to a good college and nurture his spark. You’re aware that you’re beginning to slow down a bit now. Your joints aren’t quite what they used to be, and though Raphael still covets you, he’s not oblivious to the fact that you’re getting on. His contracts for you become less vigorous. He likes to have you in his bed more than on the field. You don’t mind it, being pampered by your patron. It isn’t a bad life.

Enver doesn’t need to become Gortash. And what use has Bane for this man, this good man, this man who has made something of himself despite all of the odds stacked against him? None whatsoever. He never becomes the chosen of Tyranny. He is safe from the person he might have been.

The day he graduates at the top of his class is the proudest day of your life. You clap and cheer for him until you are hoarse, and he pretends to be embarrassed as you give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek in front of all of his friends, every inch the glowing parent.

He becomes chancellor because of his own merits, not due to any underhanded trickery. He is a master when it comes to machines. He never invents the Steel Watch because he does not have the warped mind to create them. Instead he focuses on technology to help the city of Baldur’s Gate: cleaning machines, security automatons, things which help with the admin of running to place so those in government can focus on supporting Baldurites.

He buys you a house in the upper city. You settle down there as you grow older, make friends, get plenty of visits from your son. Everyone knows how loved you are. He eventually hires a young woman named Karlach as a bodyguard who you grow fond of: she makes up in brawn what he lacks, and she always puts a smile on your face when you have the two of them around for tea.

The Absolute comes. Raphael is poking around because of course he is. He’s got some new toys by now but you’re still one of his old favourites, and a couple of his most loved tricks with your tongue mostly keep him out of the way. Plus he promised not to interfere in Enver’s life, and he’s bound by that, the tricky bastard.

Some other person is Bane’s chosen, but it is not your Enver. Instead he fights for the side of good against the Dead Three and the mindflayer invasion, an ally to this Tav, the hero of Baldur’s Gate. Through their trials the two of them end up falling in love and it’s all you could ever want for your son. When the city fights against the Elder Brain you pick up your pact weapon for the last time despite his pleas not to: you’re a Warlock, damn it, and you’re going to defend your home until your last breath.

You don’t die, which is a nice bonus.

Enver and Tav help rebuild the city once the invasion has been stopped. Not too long in the future you have grandchildren, and they are the light of your life, always silly and giggling and joyous to hear the remarkable stories from your mercenary years.

You help out where you can but your age is weighing on you. One day, you take a tumble, and suddenly you’re bedbound; Enver and your family are visiting you every day as you get weaker, and you know that your final days can’t be far off.

He sits at your bedside, your hand clamped in his. Ah, a workman’s hand. The hand of a man who is constantly inventing and working and making himself useful. The hand of a good and decent man.

“The little ones go back to school tomorrow,” he says, fondly, “Tav is relieved. They’ve been rushed off their feet during the holidays– so many years since that Absolute business, yet the legislation is still going. They need a break, really.”

“It’s exhausting being a parent, isn’t it?” you ask with a grin, before being interrupted by a rattling cough which you can’t seem to shake. Enver lifts a glass of water to your lips and you drink, thankful. “Eurgh. Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. I’ll call the doctor again in the morning, see if she can get you any more of that tincture. Or maybe Halsin might have some ideas…”

“Oh, Enver, don’t go through all that fuss for me. Just sit here with me, kiddo.”

When you call him that, he knows he has no choice. You are still his parent, after all. He shifts to make himself more comfortable in his bedside chair, never letting go of your hand.

“I want you to know,” you say, voice soft, “everything has been worth it, Enver. My whole life was made better because you were my son. You’re the thing that I’m most proud of.”

His eyes go wide and glass over with tears, jaw grits.

“I… don’t say things like that, please,” he says, because he’s scared of what will come after.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, kiddo. I’m right here.”

He rests his head on the side of the bed, and you can see his shoulder heave as he cries. You bury your hand in his hair, smiling when it’s still a little greasy, and then you close your eyes.

When you open them again you’re in the House of Hope.

Your body feels lighter than it has in decades. You look down to see the wrinkles and liver spots in your hands are gone. You’re wearing what can generously be called an outfit, though it’s more straps of leather criss-crossed over your body.

“Well, did you have fun? Was your deal worth it in the end?” Raphael asks. He’s leaning against the doorframe, swirling wine around in a glass in his hand, another held out to you. You take it and frown.

“Were you… were you just standing here, waiting for me to bloody die?” you ask. He harrumphs.

“You didn’t answer my question, kitten.”

You take the wine, quaff it, then pull him into a kiss. He moans into your mouth in surprise and rapture.

“Yes,” you answer, honestly, because it was worth it. You’d never have made a different choice, “now, are we going to bed, or are you just going to stand here being smug for the rest of eternity?”

Raphael grins and pulls you to the bedroom.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget

#raphael x reader #enver gortash x tav #gortash x tav #gortash & reader #my writing #raphael bg3 #enver gortash #bg3 fic #fic #raphael bg3 x reader

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄

Levi Ackerman

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), vaginal sex (most likely forgot to add some warnings)

I found this old oneshot from like two years ago and just wanted to share here. I didn't read through it bc that's just embarrassing but it's almost 4k words that deserve to see light of day, anyway enjoy

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

It was Thursday afternoon, and you were just finishing practice. Finally, after a long day of hard work. You were being watched the whole time. He watched you like a hawk, while you trained. Not bothering to pay attention to anyone else, just you.

His attitude towards you was always so nasty. He hated you, there was no doubt in your mind; but why? You were an excellent cadet, always obeying orders and treating others with respect. The idea of acting up never crossed your mind, yet he treated you as if you were the most mischievous in the group.

You went over to talk to your group of friends, laughing and giggling while his eyes bore into the back of your head. You had brought up the situation many times to your friends, but they always responded with a “Really? I haven’t noticed him staring at you” or a “I think you’re overreacting.” But you weren’t overreacting, you felt targeted by him. It made you upset how you were singled out. Levi Ackerman was a person you looked up to, but sadly he didn’t seem to like you.

“Hey, Captain Levi wants to speak with you.” Eren informed you, as he walked over to the group. A sigh escaped your lips, as you were expecting to get scolded. You walked away from the group of people and walked over to where Levi was.

“You wished to speak with me, Captain?” You spoke up, but he remained quiet and expressionless.

“You’ve been doing horrible during training, are you sure you’re cut out for this?” He started, and you listened in on his criticism. He talked about how you needed to improve so much more on your hand-to-hand combat skills, which you found kind of useless in the scout regiment since you weren’t planning on killing titans with your fists. Regardless, he was right about your poor skills in that area. He talked about how much more you needed to work on your omni-directional mobility skills, you nodded as you listened even if you were a bit confused since you excelled in that area. He pointed out many things you needed to improve with, but didn’t give out a single tip.

He had finally dismissed you, as people were already going back to their dormitories, and preparing for dinner. You rushed to the showers to clean yourself up, and not be too late for the last meal of the day. The women were already getting out and putting on their clothes, as you arrived and took off yours.

“We’ll wait for you.” Sasha announced as she walked out with Mikasa.

You walked into the shower stall and began cleaning yourself, as women continued walking out of the place, until the last one left and you were left alone. As the cold water hit your skin, all you could think about was Captain Levi. You never did anything to upset him, so why was he so tough on you. You could handle criticism, but he always singled you out, even if people were doing so much worse than you.

The bathroom door opened, and you wondered if someone had forgotten something, since you were the last to leave the training grounds and to shower. You didn’t say anything, though, since it didn’t concern you. You continued scrubbing yourself while the footsteps got louder and louder, until they came to a sudden stop. You slightly turned your head, for your eyes to be met with the man you were just thinking about. Quickly, you grabbed the towel that hung over the stall, and wrapped it around your body.

“Captain, what are you doing here?” You turned off the water, and turned to face Levi who looked mortified. Levi was nearly naked, only a towel covering his lower region.

“My private bathroom is getting fixed, so I was going to the boy’s bathroom to take a shower, I thought this one was it. Apparently not.” He explained and your eyes couldn’t help but to go to his torso, and take in how good he looked.

“It used to be this one, but I guess they changed it.” He added.

“Mhmm... I guess they did.” You hummed as your eyes were glued on his abs. You wished the towel would magically drop to find out if Levi’s height went somewhere else. He noticed it, and he was enjoying the way you looked at him. He walked towards you, grabbing you and pushing you against the wall.

“What’s on your mind, cadet?” He raised an eyebrow, and you remained speechless, as you took in the situation. Levi had you against the wall. “Don’t be shy, I don’t bite.”

“Well, only if you ask me to.” He smirked. You grabbed the back of his head and pulled it towards you, pressing his lips against yours. Within an instant he kissed you back. His lips felt oddly soft, something you definitely weren’t expecting. He bit your bottom lip, making you gasp. He used the opportunity to enter his tongue into your mouth and press it against yours.

He pulled away from your mouth, and began pressing open-mouthed kisses on your jaw, before moving down to your neck and doing the same. Not doing much more to your neck, he moved to your collar bones, and began marking that area.With one tug your towel was on the floor and Levi kept moving down, till he reached your pussy. He grabbed your leg, and placed it on top of his shoulder as he ran his tongue through your folds before flicking your clit. Soft moans escaped your lips as he continued.

You ran your hand through his hair as he continued sucking on your clit. Levi took two fingers, and slowly pushed inside of you. His fingers weren’t that big but he sure did know how to use them. His fingers were hitting all the right spots as he licked your clit. He somehow knew exactly how to please you.

“Oh Captain-” You moaned out as he gently bit your clit. He detached his mouth from your pussy, to look at you as he continued fingering you. A smug look was painted across his face, as he watched how your eyes rolled to the back of your head due to his fingers that were thrusting in and out of you. The face of pleasure your face projected satisfied him.

He began scissoring his fingers, as he took his other hand and rubbed your clit. You began squeezing around his fingers, and he couldn’t help but wonder how good that would feel around his cock. You held on to the stall wall for support as your body spasmed, reaching you high. Levi took his fingers out, and pressed a soft kiss on your pussy before standing up. He helped you balance yourself before speaking.

“You should probably head to the mess hall, people might be wondering where you’re at.”

Following his orders, you were now in the mess hall sitting between Mikasa and Armin, across from Jean, Sasha and Connie. The table was mostly quiet as everyone enjoyed their food in silence, well most of the table, Sasha stuffed her mouth and made sure everyone could hear her; and you, well you were thinking about what just happened. Levi was always picked on you, and he seemed to despise you so what just happened in the bathroom was unexpected.

“What made you take so long in the bathroom?” Sasha finished eating, finally speaking. You tried to remain neutral as you thought of an excuse. You remained quiet as nothing good came up.

“It’s none of our business.” Mikasa responded for you, and you agreed with her. Nobody really cared, but Sasha became suspicious. You noticed it, and hoped she wouldn’t bring it up again. In hopes that she’d forget, you gave her the bread that you weren’t planning on eating. She looked happy, which you hoped meant that she’d let it go. But she wouldn’t let it go, the fact that you gave her food made her even more suspicious.

“What did Captain Levi want?” Jean cocked his eyebrow, curious on why Levi wanted to talk to you. The mention of his name made your face heat up, however you managed to answer his question, making it seem believable as you sighed, “Just the same old thing, criticizing me for poor work during training.”

Mikasa clicked her tongue as she heard the response. She had seen how Levi always picked on you, so she believed you when you spoke to them about the issue.

“What is his issue with you?” Mikasa huffed, and you shrugged. You were still curious on why he was always rude, but you had a general idea in mind.

“Where’s Eren?” You changed the topic, which thankfully worked.

“Hange is running some experiments on him.” Armin answered. Mikasa looked annoyed, since she knew that the experiments Hange was doing weren’t safe for anybody.

The rest of the dinner was filled with jokes (mostly from Connie), giggles, and some conversation about Scout topics. Mikasa, Sasha and you said goodbye to the boys before walking to your dorm room you shared.

“Wake up!” Sasha aggressively shook you, making you open your eyes. You sat up, and looked around confused. Until you saw the sunlight in the room, you ran to get your uniform.

Training usually started so early, that the sun wouldn’t be out which meant you were late. You also made Sasha late, who apparently spent time trying to wake you up. You tried your best to put on the uniform quickly, which was a difficult task to do. Sasha continued waiting for you, which made you feel bad since she was already late. You made a mental note to give her your bread for at least a week.

After putting on the uniform, which was most likely messed up, you two ran out to the training area. Everyone was already busy, Levi was overlooking the training for the week and he made sure the soldiers were always busy with something. You tried to sneak in with the soldiers, but when he locked eyes with you he signaled you to come over. You did and stood in front of him, while Sasha still tried to sneak in.

“Braus, come here!” He yelled. He crossed his arms as Sasha walked towards the two of you.

“Care to explain why you two are late?” He looked back and forth between Sasha and you. You bit your lip feeling guilty for getting her in trouble.

“It was my fault sir, I was feeling sick and she took care of me.” You lied, and Levi raised an eyebrow. He knew you were lying, but he still let Sasha go.

“Lying is not a very good quality. He stated, and you looked at the ground in shame. Levi rolled his eyes before speaking again, “You’re coming with me to my office.”

Levi began walking towards the building, and you followed. The walk was silent and awkward, since there wasn’t much to talk about. Screw that. There was much to talk about but it would be too weird to bring it up in broad daylight.

He opened the door to his office, and let you enter first. You stood in the middle of his office awkwardly as he closed the door, locking it, before walking to his chair and sitting down. He patted his lap, wanting you to sit on it and you hesitated before walking over.

You sat on his lap, waiting for him to speak up. You knew he had something to say, he always did. He just looked into your eyes, and even though he pretended to be mad his eyes told otherwise. He cleared his throat before speaking, “You know, cadet, you’re a very good liar. Too bad I can read you like a book. You could’ve fooled me. Now what actually happened?”

“I overslept and Sasha waited for me.” You told the truth. He wasn’t planning on punishing you, since you were always really responsible and obedient. This was the first incident and most likely the last. He tried fighting off a smile after an idea came into mind. He couldn’t hide it so instead he began kissing along your jaw.

“You know, I can’t let this go just like that.” He moved to your lips, where he immediately slid his tongue in and pressed it against yours. You wrapped your arms around him, as the kiss deepened. He pulled away to speak again, “All of next week you’re going to be in here, cleaning the filthy office.”

You smiled before pulling him into a kiss again. The office was anything but filthy, so he was most likely just going to fuck you all of next week. He pulled away, picked you up and set you down on his desk table. He looked down at your uniform and cocked an eyebrow.

“Thought that you knew how to put on your uniform properly, but apparently not.” He began unbuckling the belts of the uniform one by one, before grabbing one and ordering you to, “Hold your wrists above your head.”

He took the belt and tied your wrists together, restraining you from touching him. He began unbuttoning the buttons of your shirt, commenting on how the shirt was messed up. After unbuttoning the shirt, he took in the sight in front of him, “You really are one sexy woman.”

He took off the waistcloth and your boots, before pulling down your pants and leaving you in your underwear. He began rubbing you through your panties.

“Aren’t you excited?” He commented after feeling the damp fabric, you rolled your eyes even if you knew he was right. He pushed the panties to the side and began playing with your clit. Without a warning he entered two fingers, making you gasp and shut your legs close.

“Now, now, don’t be shy.” He spread them once again, getting a full view. He began prepping you, by scissoring his fingers.

You watched as he focused on your pussy. You doubted you had ever seen him so concentrated even during training.

He kept pumping his two fingers in and out for a minute, before adding another since he knew that just two fingers weren’t enough. You moaned, surprised at the new finger. He loved seeing how good you felt under his touch, and the erotic faces you made as he played with your cunt.

He wasn’t planning on spending too much time on prepping, since the soldiers training would finish soon with their task and need instructions. He had locked the door as a safety precaution, but it would also seem suspicious if they tried to come in and the door was locked.

He took his fingers out, and leaned in, kissing your lips. He pulled away and unbuckled his belt, pulling down his pants along with his boxers making his dick spring out. Your eyes widened at the sight, his height certainly went somewhere else.

“Have you ever done this before?” He asked, making sure this wasn’t your first time. He wasn’t opposed to the idea of taking your virginity, but he didn’t want to take it in his office. He should’ve asked the question last night, but he got too caught up in the moment.

“I have, don’t worry.” You responded. You were eager for him to fuck you, a bit scared though since you had never been with someone as big as him. With your response, he spit on your cunt, as he pumped his cock.

He aligned himself with your entrance and slowly pushed himself in. Your eyes filled up with tears, as his cock stretched you out. He looked up to see your face, and noticed your glassy eyes, so he made sure to go in slower. He was halfway in and stopped, to make sure you were okay.

“Can you handle more?” The tone of his voice seemed caring, and if the situation were a bit different you would smile. “I’ll be fine.”

He continued going in at the same pace as before, he made sure he didn’t hurt you. When he was all the way in, he didn’t move, letting you adjust to the size.

“Tell me when to move.” Levi was desperate to move, you were clenching around him and you just felt so good that he was afraid he was going to come in a minute, but he wanted to make sure you were comfortable before moving. You felt as if you could never get used to him so you just decided to let him move.

“You can move.” You informed him. He started off slow, still making sure you were okay.

You digged your nails into your palms, and bit your lip stopping cries from escaping your lips as he fucked you. You wished you could’ve been marking his back but he wanted to tie your hands up, you’d get him next time.

The pleasure overtook the pain as he continued his steady thrusts. One of his hands squeezed your cheeks and brought you up to kiss him. The nastiest kiss you had ever shared with anyone. He pulled away, wanting to hear your moans and cries again. “You’re taking me so well. Who knew a little slut like you could handle my cock.”

“Fuck- your pussy feels so good.” He continued praising, as he felt how much it turned you on by the way your pussy clenched around him while he spoke.

You kept clenching around him, making him take out his cock knowing that if he didn’t he’d come soon. He entered you, once again, this time hitting your sweet spot making you moan even louder.

Taking his cock out was useless since his thrusts were becoming sloppy, as he was about to come again. You just felt too good around him, and he couldn’t contain himself. He didn’t want to come before you, so his thumb found your clit and began massaging it.

“Captain-” You moaned as he continued hitting your sweet spot, and massaging your clit. You were about to come at any second and he knew it. He didn’t stop making sure that you would come before him.

“Come on my cock, baby.” As he spoke, your eyes rolled back and your body spasmed while you came on his cock. Levi quickly took his cock out and released his cum on your stomach.

He took in the sight in front of him, once again. Your arms were above your head with your wrists tied up, you were covered in sweat and his cum was in your stomach; you looked like a mess but he couldn’t find you even more beautiful. He didn’t doubt that he looked like a mess, too but nothing compared to you, at least he thought. He undid the belt and let your hands free before finding something to help you clean the cum on your stomach. You remained on the desk, knowing your legs wouldn’t work to support yourself for a while.

He passed you some paper towels that he kept hidden and you thanked him. As you were cleaning yourself up a loud knock on the door made you panic. Levi remained calm, knowing he was in a position of authority and he could tell anyone to fuck off.

“What do you need?” An annoyed tone was clear in his voice.

“Captain, we finished what you told us to do. What else do you need?” Mikasa’s voice was clear on the other side of the door, which made you panic even more. Levi was planning on going back out, but he needed to do some paperwork, not only that he didn’t want to let you leave just yet.

“Just do whatever you think is necessary. Now leave.” He answered, sitting down on his chair. You hurried putting on the uniform, just in case she dared opening the door. He held your hand and tried stopping himself from laughing, while he pointed at the door showing you it was locked. He made you sit on his lap again, as he looked over some paperwork.

It was weird how yesterday you thought he hated you. Still, you wanted to ask why he was always so rude to you, wanting to confirm if the idea you had in mind was true. You didn’t want to interrupt his concentration but curiosity was killing you. You cleared your throat and his gaze shifted over to you.

“I have a question…” You started. Levi shifted his whole attention to you, as you spoke. “So why were you always so rude to me?”

Levi’s cheeks slowly turned pink as he heard your question. He was a bit ashamed of his reasoning, but he didn’t want to lie or dismiss your question. He stayed quiet as he built up the courage to get the words out of his mouth. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before speaking, “Well I simply just wanted you to leave the survey corps…”

He expected you to get mad, but to his surprise you were smiling. You were right about his reasoning.

“And why is that?” You managed to ask, your voice showing you were a bit too happy. He cleared his throat before explaining, “When I first saw you I was drawn to you, and ever since that day I’ve desired you. I couldn’t act out on my feelings since I’m in a position of authority and it would’ve been wrong. Even what we just did was wrong. I just… didn’t want to act out on my feelings and do something I’d regret, so I tried making you leave for maybe one day you’d forgive me and allow me to take you out on a date.”

“I’m sorry… I hope you can forgive me.” You watched his grey eyes filled with regret. You pecked his lips, in hopes of making him feel better.

“I’m not mad.” You reassured him.

You looked into each other's eyes for a minute, and a warm feeling overtook you. You couldn’t help but smile at his cold gray eyes that warmed up the minute they saw you. He smiled too, the same warm feeling overtaking him.

#aot #levi aot #aot x female reader #aot x reader #levi attack on titan #captain levi #levi x reader #levi x you #aot levi #levi ackerman #snk levi #levi smut #levi x y/n #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman snk

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pureblisswrites · 1 year

Text

A guide to accidental murder and cover up 101

"Because then I'll have to kill you." He whispered in that scary, serious voice of his. You knew by now that he was probably just joking again.

"Can you not joke about killing me all the time?" You rolled your eyes.

"Who said I was joking?"

Pairing: Uni Student! Reader x Hwang Hyunjin

Word count: 4k

Genre: Crime, mafia au, eventual romance, Rom-com (I hope)

Warnings: Attempted sexual assault although nothing graphic, unintentional murder, general blood and gore descriptions, minor character death, criminal activities

Summary: You didn't think you'll become a murderer on a particularly slow night at the convenience store while trying to complete your uni essay that was due tomorrow. And you definitely didn't think an angel of a man would help you clean up the crime scene out of nowhere. Did people this kind really still exist in the world? Spoiler alert: Of course not. Because the reason he's helping you goes far deeper than the kindness of his heart.

This story takes place in the same universe as "A guide to being kidnapped and escaping 101" but with a different reader. I suggest you can read that too if these kind of stories are your type. But both can be read as standalones too.

You were in deep.

Like a million feet deep in a dark, cold ocean. That's why you felt like you couldn't breathe at all. That's why water was leaking from your eyes like a never ending waterfall. That's why you couldn't see anything past the salty tears and everything was blurry, you didn't know if it was your eyes or the world. You hoped for the latter but felt it would be the former, and it was.

It was an accident. A mistake. You didn't mean to do it. No, you wouldn't have ever done something like this even in your dreams much less in real life. You had just murdered someone.

It had all happened so quickly, you didn't have time to process anything. One minute you were trying to type your essay on playwriting and dramaturgy that was due tomorrow on your phone on a particularly slow night in the convenience store, the next you were getting the man jelly beans from the third aisle that apparently his daughter loved and the next minute he was pushing you into the wall, trying to take your clothes off. You panicked. As one does...you think? No one ever taught how to deal with a situation like this in school. You wanted to mock Mrs Lee now who had told you maths would help you in every situation, sure it will. You just flailed your hands, took the can opener from the desk and stabbed it into his neck.

It was a sight you never wanted to see again. Blood spurting from his throat, him choking on his own blood and trying to say something you couldn't make out even if you tried. He struggled for two minutes you think, for you it felt like two decades. You had never seen this much blood. Ever. And finally, he fell back on the floor knocking the milk cartons. Great now you'll have to arrange those again. What the fuck? Were you thinking about milk cartons right now? Really? Yeah you were.

You knew it'll take you some time for you to process this, start crying properly and think rationally. Till then you had to clean this puddle of blood. The metallic smell was slowly starting to take over you senses. You felt so dizzy. Taking a bottle of bleach and scrubs from the fifth aisle you started scrubbing the blood before it dries, or atleast tried to.

You totally did not forgot to turn the open sign on the door to closed and someone totally wasn't standing in front of you looking at you trying to clean a murder scene, your mind tried to convince you.

You looked up to see probably the most beautiful man to walk on this earth. His eyes were a bit wide but definitely not wide enough for someone who was looking at a crime scene for the first time. Shit he was a police officer or detective, wasn't he?

"Uh, hi... Can I help you?" You mentally facepalmed for asking this question in such a situation.

"Looks like you need more help than me right now." He stated simply. He walked towards you and plucked out a chocolate bar from the stand beside you. "That bleach you're using won't remove the stains completely. Do you have any oxygen producing detergents here?" He asked while unwrapping the chocolate.

He seemed causal about this. Too causal. Like he just walked in his friend's get together party instead of a place where there was a crime scene. You know you should be alarmed as to why he isn't alarmed or maybe why does he have this knowledge but you think you're not in the position to be asking questions right now. Maybe he's a medical student or something? That's plausible.

When you just looked at him without saying anything, he understood that you didn't understand anything he said. "Do you have any detergents like vanish or something around here?" He asked in simpler language, now taking a bite from the chocolate. You nodded standing up to get it.

He was looking around like he was searching for something so you asked "Do you need anything?"

"Nah. Just looking for security cameras." He answered while going to the door and turning the sign to "closed" and closing the blinds.

"We don't have those here." You said.

"Is that so?" He asked squinting at the mirror behind the cashier's desk, your desk. He touched his finger on the mirror and looked behind it. You didn't know what he was doing so you turned to scrubbing the stains again. By now the bleeding from the man's neck had almost stopped and the puddle had gotten bigger.

"Gotcha." He whistled. Just as you were about to ask what did he get, he took the paperweight from the desk and smashed it in the mirror.

"Are you fucking insane!?" You exclaimed. Did he just break Mr Choi's favourite mirror? Yes he did. Did he just double the mess you'll have to clean up now? Yes he fucking did.

"Might be." He took out a little circular chip with a beeping red light on it. The red light died slowly as he crushed it under the weight of his long fingers "Who's the owner of this store? Jaehyun Choi right?" He asked.

"Jaewon Choi." You corrected.

"Yeah, yeah. Same thing. That man is a bastard. How did you even believe he didn't put a camera here" He chuckled without any humor. What was his deal? "Anyways, who are you?"

"Why? Are you gonna go to the police?" You sincerely asked. You were worried but honestly you wouldn't mind if you got arrested. You knew you had done something very terrible and you were tired of scrubbing. You were really sleep deprived and you had to finish your theatre assignment that was due tomorrow. Prison didn't seem like a particularly bad option right now.

He chuckled again "Honey, if I wanted to go to the police I would've done that by now don't you think?"

"I guess so." You shrugged. Thinking that things were already bad and couldn't get any worse than this, you decided to answer his question. "I'm a student in the uni nearby. I've been working here for about 3 months part time to uh... pay rent."

He hummed. "What major are you?"

"Theatre."

"Funny. I've got a friend there too." He shrugged opening the locked drawers with a freaking paperclip of all things...wait what was he opening the drawers Mr Choi has specifically told you to not touch? He was. And then he took out some papers out, folded them and put them in his winter coat's pocket. You had given up on trying to make sense of whatever he was doing or whatever was happening.

"Are...are you a medical student or something?" He laughed at that. Like actually laughed out loud.

"Do I look like a medical student?" He genuinely asked.

"I don't know, I mean that's why you know so much about...detergents right?" You look at him expectantly to confirm your theory but when he doesn't say anything and just looks at you like you've got devil horns on your head which who knows maybe you did it's not like you just killed someone right? You know you're a bit too far off from the reality. "You aren't a student then, are you?" You ask again searching for any answer as to who was this kind man that stumbled upon you and was now pretty much helping you clean up a fucking murder scene.

"Nope." He answers biting his lower lip like he's trying to hide his smile. Now that you look, his lips are really pretty. Just an observation.

"So wait...wait are you like a serial killer that actually knows how to cover up crime scenes and you aren't phased by this body and blood here-" you gesture to the puddle of blood there "because you're used to it and now you're going to kill me, oh my god, are you going to kill me? Can you just do it already because if I clean all this up and then you kill me it wouldn't be of any use. Like first of all, there would be blood all over here again. Secondly, my efforts would be rendered useless like why am I even cleaning this up if I'm just gonna die and thirdly, how awful and kinda ironic it would be that I covered up a murder only to get murdered myself after that." You gasp for breath after the long rant you'd just finished.

"Actually no, there wouldn't be blood all over here again. Who says you need to make a mess of blood to kill someone?" You looked at him in horror and he laughed again. "I'm kidding. Don't you think I would've already murdered you by now if I wanted to?" He grinned looking you in the eyes.

"I guess so. So you aren't...a murderer right?" You questioned again just to confirm.

"Not exactly." He smirked.

"So then...who are you?"

"Is it really that important to know? C'mon let's help you get rid of this body now." He stated as casually as if he was telling a weather forecast. You stand there in shock. Not being able to comprehend how this saint of a man had stumbled in your life at the best possible moment. "Hey don't just stand there. I'm strong sure but not enough to carry this man all by myself. Give me a hand will you?" He gestured for you to help him carry the man. Oh right.

"Where do we have to carry him though?" You question stumbling on your feet while holding the disgusting and now dead man's hands while the stranger held him by the ankles and walked backwards until he reached the door and pushed it open with his back.

"Oh just till that car." He gestured with his eyes to a freaking Tesla of all things.

"Um who's car is that?" You ask dumbfounded.

"Well you already have a crime on your record, wouldn't wanna add grand theft auto too. So it's mine for the night. Don't worry your pretty head too much about it, yeah?"

"Yours for the night? So like it isn't actually yours? What do you mean?" You ask stupidly. Like sure maybe interrogating such an angel like him who was essentially saving you from a life in prison wasn't a good move but you did not feel like yourself since the moment the can opener entered that man's throat.

"Jeez you ask a lot of questions don't you? It's a friend's." He sounded annoyed but still had a slight smile on his face. He opened the back seat door and you threw the man in there, quite literally at that. He then opened the door of the front seat and looked at you expectantly. "You coming or what?"

Well now it's not that you didn't learn about stranger danger in school like the rest of the human population. Problem is you had just killed someone, something not a lot of human population does. So it's not like you had a choice either. Because telling this fine gentleman to get rid of the body you murdered by himself wouldn't be very nice now would it? So you decided to go, also he had already said he would've murdered you by now if he wanted to. You also thought that he would've done the thing that the man tried to do with you by now if he wanted to and wouldn't be helping you. Although you still didn't understand why he was even helping you in the first place.

"Wait let me just lock the store." You ran to the store to get the keys not noticing him following you. Just as you took the keys from the cashier's desk and turned you saw him taking a bunch of snacks and food items from the shelves. He looked at you with both arms full and raised an eyebrow as to ask 'what'? "So, um are you gonna pay for this?" You ask. As much as you were in debt of this man, you couldn't afford to add two crimes in a night to your record. A murder charge was enough you didn't need an extra accomplice in robbery charge too.

"Seriously?" He rolled his eyes.

"I mean, you do know this a crime right?" Okay so maybe you were being stupid at the moment but can someone blame you? They try murdering a creepy man and see what happens to their critical thinking skills.

"Woah really? I never would've guessed!" He gasped dramatically. "Thank you so much for telling me, kind lady. How may I repay you?" He marveled with wide eyes while doing a dramatic bow making all the snacks he was carrying scrunch as they came in contact with his chest. His dark, slightly long hair fell into his eyes while he got back up and grinned at his own joke.

"Ok. That's enough. I'll just pay for you. I don't wanna account to Mr Choi for the missing snacks. Just let me get the total." You asked him while fishing for your purse in your pockets.

"You're a real funny one, you know that?" He laughed as though you had made a joke that you yourself were unaware about. "C'mon you don't need to pay. I'll explain in the car. It's going to be a long journey." He stated drawing out the o of long an obnoxious amount.

Thinking that you couldn't argue with this odd man you followed him out and locked the store.

"Open this up for me, will you?" He gestured towards the trunk which was strangely in the front of the car. You opened it up and he emptied his hands. "You know, this is called a frunk. Front and trunk get it? Isn't that neat?" He mentioned.

"Uh, yeah, Sure is." You awkwardly agreed and went to the front seat.

"Uh-uh sweetheart, stop right there" he exhorted. "Now what kind of gentleman would I be if I don't even open the door for you?" He walked towards you and opened the door.

"Uh thanks I guess?" You sat down almost hitting your head against the roof.

"You're welcome sweetheart." He winked and got in the driver's seat all the while whistling to himself. Was all this not even a bit weird to him? How did he even know what to do with a dead body of all things? All kinds of different questions were swarming in your head when he finally spoke after half an hour of driving or so. "Stop overthinking that much. You're gonna give yourself a headache." He said while chuckling.

"Are you speaking from experience?" You asked quietly still looking out of the window at the tall buildings which were now looking like little amber fireflies from this high up. You guessed you were near a mountain or something. You weren't sure though, neither did you care at this point.

"Maybe." He answered swerving the car effortlessly at the narrow route.

"So uh care to explain why you are trying to get me fired?" You finally questioned.

"I am trying to get you fired? Excuse me?" He said as if he was seriously offended.

"I mean you did steal a bunch of things and didn't even let me pay didn't you?"

"Oh honey, let me tell you something. You were fired the moment you killed that man." He whispered as if he was telling you a secret.

"Wha- what do you mean? You destroyed the camera right? I can just make up something about thieves breaking in and doing all that. There's no evidence so why would I get fired?" You questioned while panicking a bit. This job was one of the limited jobs that aligned with your uni schedule and you didn't had to work super hard for. All the other jobs in late night cafes and other stores were already taken up by other students. You don't think you'll be able to get another job as convenient after this one.

"You're so naive you know that? Your little owner has live footage of every single place he owns. I just destroyed the recorded one. Chances are he already knows about what you've done by now and is probably sending his men over. Especially after seeing me there. He must be losing his marbles after that." He snickered as if he made the funniest joke a homosapien could think of.

"I don't understand you for the most part but mainly you're saying the I'm fired right? And Mr Choi knows I'm a fucking murderer?"

"Essentially yeah." He agreed before continuing "But you're not really a murderer, right?"

"Um not right. I quite literally killed someone." You sniffled. Still determined to not cry until that body is no more. Even though you didn't think you even deserved to cry.

"So what? You just killed someone. That doesn't make you a murderer. A killer is someone who kills, whether by intent or not. A murderer is someone who kills with a motive in mind. You didn't mean to kill that guy, it just happened. Even though he definitely deserved it. If you knew even half the things that asshole has done, you wouldn't even care that you killed him."

"I doubt that." You rolled your eyes at him. How could he even think you wouldn't care after taking the life of someone? Sure he wasn't a good person. But now what about his daughter? What if she was still waiting for the jelly beans he was meant to get her? "I'm sure his daughter would care that I killed him." You whispered in a small voice, not trusting your voice right now.

"What daughter?" He asked as if he was genuinely confused. "He doesn't have a daughter. If he said that to you, he was lying."

Well now that was shocking. "Are- are you sure?"

"Do you seriously still doubt me?" He rolled his eyes with more force than necessary.

"Well then what about a wife? Or a significant other or something you know?" You just wanted to know that no one would be affected as much by his death. Maybe it was selfish for you to do so.

"I mean he does have a wife. But she runs an illegal organ trafficking business. So I wouldn't feel too bad for her if I were you."

Alright so this was more shocking. You were too stunned to speak. Who even were these people? And wait how did he know about all these? He wasn't involved in any organ trafficking businesses right? There was only one way to find out. "So not to offend you or anything but are you too, perhaps, I don't know... involved in such things?" Your question was full of hesitation and he probably knew that too from your tone.

"Yes. And I'm looking for the perfect moment to strike and take your eyes out with a can opener." He didn't crack a smile at that and looked dead serious, not even blinking and just looking straight at the dark road ahead. He looked so scary, for the first time that night.

"You should've just done that before I cleaned all that blood then." You said solemnly. Was this going to be the way you die? With your eyes scooped out with a can opener? On a pitch black, uninhabited mountain? You were on the verge of crying when he laughed again.

"You didn't think that I was actually being serious right?" His eyes crinkled into twin crescent moons, the same as the one you could see up in the inky sky from the side mirror of his car.

"Yeah I did actually." You whispered to yourself as he continued to laugh. "So you don't do that organ stuff right?" You asked again, just to be sure.

"God no! That's too grotesque even for us. We're more into strategic businesses if you know what I mean."

"I don't know what you mean." You replied. Who were 'us'? What even was a 'strategic business'? Did he work in finance or something? Probably not.

"It's okay. I'd rather not tell you."

"Why?" The question slipped your mouth before you had the chance to stop it.

"Because then I'll have to kill you." He whispered in that scary, serious voice of his. You knew by now that he was probably just joking again.

"Can you not joke about killing me all the time?" You rolled your eyes.

"Who said I was joking?" He looked at you instead of the road just as you felt the whole car vibrate staggeringly.

"What the fuck was that!?" You panicked.

"Uh just a big rock or something." He shrugged.

"Well then maybe can you pay attention to the road instead of staring at me creepily at random times!?" You shouted.

"Jeez calm down. I already knew we couldn't avoid the rock. It was too huge. So I just let it be. And it's called gazing alright, not 'creepily staring'."

He explained calmly while wrapping the hand at the back of your seat and driving with only one freaking hand. And he looked so relaxed too for some reason.

Oh okay so he was parking the car in between two huge trees. "We're here. Come on." You followed him out of the car and you could see a bright place up ahead. You could also hear the sound of fire crackling.

"Gosh I really don't wanna go near that asshole's feet again. They stink so bad." He gagged dramatically. His personality honestly gave you whiplash. You both reluctantly carried the man into the warehouse-like building which burned brighter than your future.

"Come on just leave him here." He threw the man on the cobblestone ground and started walking back to the car leaving you utterly confused. "You coming or what?" He looked back at you as he noticed you not following him.

"A- aren't we supposed to do anything?" You questioned while glancing between the body and him.

He sighed deeply and walked back to you. "Do you want to see that man's body burn in above a 1000 degree celsius?" He questioned you while grabbing both of your shoulders. You shook your head in a silent 'no'. "That's what I thought." He smiled at you again and walked you back towards the car with a hand wrapped around your shoulders.

"Won't the police know anything?" You questioned ten minutes into the drive.

"Not a chance sweetheart." He winked at you shifting his gaze from the road towards you for the umpteenth time that night while you looked out of the window at the dark trees with a blank stare.

"Won't Mr Choi report me to the police if he knows I killed someone?"

"Unless he's an absolute idiot, no he won't. Besides he doesn't even have any evidence against you. But trust me, he won't even go to the police in the first place. Just don't go around that store now for a few days, alright?"

"Are you sure his body will be gone?"

"Absolutely. Now that we're down the mountain, there are absolutely no traces of the crime you accidentally committed tonight." So that man really was gone huh? Because of you?

"Thank you." Your voice barely coming out.

"Why are you thanking me? I should be thanking you." He chuckled. What?

"Uh what?" Your throat hurt from how hoarse your voice was.

"I mean, you did kill my target for me so thanks I guess. Although I would've gotten the job done far more cleanly. Obviously. We wouldn't even need to go all the way up there. Just one touch and he would've gotten a heart attack then and there. But it's fine I don't blame you, it was your first kill after all!" He exclaimed as if that was a good news. "So now... my place or yours?"

The news didn't even phase you anymore. You looked at the neon digital clock in the car as it showed 4:27 a.m. in block letters. You definitely wouldn't be able to make it to uni today. You hadn't even completed your essay on playwriting and dramaturgy that was due today. And finally you burst into tears for the second time that night.

"My place it is then."

A/N: If you've made it this far, thanks a lot for reading. Any kind of feedback and comments are much much appreciated!

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