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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 2 months

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Torn Apart pt. 3

So it's been a while and I went through a kinda depression phase, but I'M BACK with chapter 3 at least, and chapter 4 is in the works. I will set up a poll to see how y'all want it to end because I just can't decide.

TW's: Reader is kinda drugged but is funny, talk of pain, talk of the trauma and the fight with Zoro.

And yes, to the person who asked if I'd seen Violet Evergarden, I love it so much and her hands are what I'm mostly thinking of when writing <3

You sighed deeply and slowly, eyes still closed in partial slumber. You were waking up, groggy as all hell but still conscious. Your brows furrowed before you pried open your eyes into slits, before opening them further once you realized you were in a dimly lit room.

“There ya are” a voice said. You recognized it, and knew it was safe, but the man’s name escaped your grasp. You heard various beeping in the background, and you felt like you were dreaming.

“Wha…?” you slurred, smacking your lips as you noticed your mouth was dry. You blinked slowly again.

“You’re going to be groggy for a bit, but everything was successful and went smoothly” the voice said. It was soothing, hearing him talk. You finally focused on him, sitting in the corner of the room on a chair. He stood, and your eyes lagged to follow his movements.

“Law” you whispered in recognition as the light hit his face. You could feel yourself smiling dopily.

“You’re so pretty, Law” you slurred. You wanted to touch his face, feel his beard and sideburns, to feel the heat from his tanned skin as he blushed at your compliment. Your arm twitched, but didn’t move completely off the bed. You scowled at it before it crashed into you.

Your arm.

You had arms.

The surgery. The arms. It worked!

You looked up at Law, tears filling your eyes as you looked at him with true, unfiltered gratitude. He paused at your tears.

“Does it hurt? Are you in pain?” he quickly bent over to check your shoulders but you shakily raised one hand to touch his face. You could feel the echoes of his skin and the coarseness of his sideburns and beard.

“I can touch you,” you said softly. A wide smile puffed your cheeks and you laughed a little in disbelief. Law smiled a little, just a small quirk of his lips, and put his hand on the back of yours.

“Yeah. But are you in pain?” he asked again. You stared at his hand, resting on top of yours. You could feel the heat of it, and how warm he was. More tears flowed with your happiness. You sniffed, finally taking stock of your body. The sites of the attachments were stinging and throbbing, but it was tolerable.

“Yeah but it’s not bad” you finally said. Law sighed in relief, put your hand back on the bed, and stood upright.

“Good. It should be painful, but not so bad it's unbearable and you shouldn’t be numb. I’ll go get your crew,” he said. You nodded, still unable to wipe the smile off your face. He walked quickly to the door and opened it. His soft voice floated back to you as you bent both arms at the elbow to look at your hands.

They were incredible, intricate pieces that were made of metal. The silver gleam was dulled in the light that was only provided by a lamp on the small table across the room, but it was the best thing you’ve ever laid eyes on. You tried clenching and unclenching your fist, checking out the movement. It was choppy, and it hurt like a bitch at the attachment sites, but they worked. Your dazed study of your arms was interrupted by Law yelling at your captain.

“Oi! Mugiwara-ya! Be fucking gentle! I won’t have you screwing up my work!”

You heard Luffy and the crew running towards your room way before you saw any faces. Luffy’s slap of his sandals, Franky’s metal arms pumping, Usopp screeching as he got run over by Nami, who was wearing heels. You heard the two different taps of dress shoes from both Sanji and Brook. Luffy’s rubber hands gripped the doorframe and he shot himself past your room before letting his body pull him back so he could jump off the adjacent wall and fly into your room. He skidded to a halt at the side of your bed, eyes twinkling and a huge, toothy smile on his face. You noticed Chopper was hanging onto his shoulder for dear life, but popped up to see how you were doing.

“Shihihihihi~ You’re awake! You have suuuuuper cool robot arms! Man, I have the coolest crew. Are you hungry? Should Sanji to cook you something? Can he make you meat?” Luffy fired questions at you one after the other. In your groggy state of mind, the words jumbled together, but you were saved by Chopper, who hopped onto your bed gently.

“Shut up, Luffy! Patient’s are usually confused and groggy when they first wake up. And no, no meat right now- that’s just an excuse for you to eat more meat!” Chopper chided Luffy. You couldn’t help but smile at the reindeer. He’s just too cute.

“Cute” you mumbled. You wanted to squish his face. Your arms were still bent at the elbow, and you let Chopper gently crawl up your body to sit on your stomach.

“Squish squish” you slurred, pinching his cheeks. He cried out in pain a little but there was still a smile fighting to stay on his face. He pulled his cheeks free from your grip and giggled while rubbing the sore spots.

“Well it looks like we need to train fine motor skills, but that’s to be expected,” he said. His words washed over you, the meaning clicking in your mind somewhere, but not coming to the forefront. You were distracted by movement by the doorway. Sanji and Franky were trying to shove each other out of the way to get into the door first, but Nami’s well-planted foot on Franky’s butt caused him to stumble into the room first, but he caught himself and seemed to materialize by your bedside. Nami entered second, as Sanji let her go first, before cutting in front of Usopp. You blinked slowly, and suddenly your bed was surrounded by your crew. Well, all except one. You looked at Luffy, who started asking about what kind of cool robot things you could do now, and Chopper tried desperately to answer for you. You looked at Franky next, and he got closer to you with a smile.

“Heya, kiddo. Ya got’cha suuuuperrrrr arms. Everything went well! Law is a super surgeon, and with a little bit of physical therapy and training, you should get used to the arms in no time,” he said. You looked at him, blinking slowly as the words sunk in and the meaning clicked. You smiled up at him.

“I love you like a brother. My big brother. I’ll protect you, cuz we’re twin-sies,” you murmured, raising your hand. He clasped it, tears starting to form in his eyes at your drugged words. Your grip tightened in mechanical increments around his, and you flinched a little as the attachment sites stung. He let go of your hand, and brought it down to rest on your stomach.

“You need to let the sites heal a little more before you really start using it,” he said around tears streaming down his face. You hummed a little in response, letting your gaze wander. It landed on Sanji, who was hovering uncertainly on your other side.

“Hey, cook” you greeted softly. Sanji’s lip quivered a little but he broke out in a smile.

“Hey, my little fighter, do you need anything? Water? Food?” he asked, reaching out gently to stroke your hair. You let yourself nuzzle into his hand.

“So kind, Sanji. So nice, and strong, and kind. Did I say that already?” You slurred your words slightly. His hand froze on your head, and you whined a little when he stopped stroking your hair. You looked at him with a small pout. His cheeks were a bright red, and he was looking at you, lips parted with shock. You let your head fall more into his hand.

“More” you mumbled. He immediately started back up again, and you closed your eyes briefly with a hum. Sounds of indignation from Brook brought your gaze to him, and he reached out with a tentative hand.

“May I please… see your panties?” he asked solemnly. Nami whacked his skull as you giggled a little.

“I haven’t heard that in a while. Did I change that much?” you asked him, a small smile on your face. The crew quieted at your question, before Nami spoke up.

“No sweetie. You haven’t changed much at all, it’s just that we got scared. You were so hurt, that we didn’t know how to act around you,” she said quietly. You hummed. Sanji’s hand kept stroking your hair.

“Like Zoro. He was scared, and guilty, and only got that out in anger” you said, brow furrowing. The words you were trying to say weren’t coming out as clearly as you wanted. The crew was silent for a moment.

“Yes, he was, and is, feeling scared and guilty” Robin answered. You nodded once in confirmation, smiling at the fact that they still understood what you were trying to say. You looked up at Sanji, smiling proudly.

“Just like you said,” you whispered loudly. He smiled sadly down at you, tears brimming his eyes.

“Yeah. Just like I said” he murmured. A snorting sniff attracted your attention, and you looked at Usopp, who was obviously fighting back tears.

“Hey Usopp, did it hurt your mother when she gave birth to a baby with such a big nose?” you asked seriously. Franky snorted a laugh, shocked by your question. Brook started laughing so hard he ended up on his knees and elbows, crashing a fist into the floor as he repeated your question breathlessly. Luffy started laughing wildly, Chopper right beside him, and you smiled at the sound. Nami sank into a chair, clutching her stomach as she laughed. Robin giggled behind her hand, and Usopp stared at you with a shocked expression.

“I uh… I don’t know” he said finally, before erupting into giggles. You hummed, looking at Sanji, who was laughing loudly. You smiled at him. He was gorgeous like this. Laughter suited him well.

You didn’t realize you said it out loud until he was looking down at you in surprise, a grin on his face as his cheeks turned pink. The rest of the crew was still ganging up on Usopp, teasing about his long nose.

“Thank you, but you are much more gorgeous than I could ever be,” he answered. You giggled, a dumb joke coming to mind.

“I think I’ll shine brighter now that I’m part metal” you said, grinning up at him. He fought back tears at your drugged giddiness. A wave of exhaustion swept through your body, and you relaxed completely against your pillow.

“Okay that’s it. Everyone out,” Law chided from the doorway. Robin, Nami, Brook and Usopp filed out with various well wishes. Sanji soothed a hand over your hair one more time before dropping a light kiss against your forehead. You hardly registered it through your exhaustion, eyes drooping and a hum of contentment was pulled unconsciously from your chest.

“Bonne nuit, fais de beaux rêves, mon Ange” (goodnight, sweet dreams, my angel) Sanji whispered. You didn’t have a clue what he said, but you knew it was something sweet. Luffy sat down on the chair that Law had previously sat in, obviously not going anywhere. You faded off to sleep as you heard Franky, Chopper, and Law murmuring at the foot of your bed.

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you felt strange, pain echoing in your shoulders and attachment sites, spreading to an odd sensation in your arms. You could feel things, and they didn’t exactly hurt, but it was really uncomfortable. You were interrupted through the night by Law’s crew, taking turns to check your vitals and healing through the night. Luffy sprawled out on the chairs, snoring loudly, and you found the comfort of familiarity in the sound.

The next few days passed in a blur, your memory and time perception altered by the pain drugs Law was administering through your neck IV. In your bouts of consciousness, you managed to eat broth and light meals prepared by Sanji that were packed with nutrition. He fed you the broth, your arm still movements too jerky to keep the liquid balanced on the spoon, but watched you carefully as you fed yourself bite-sized pieces of fruit that he stabbed with a fork and handed to you. You accidentally bent a few forks at first when you grabbed it, but Franky walked you through practicing your fine motor skills. At least now you weren’t bending forks every time you tried to eat a piece of apple. Law actually had a difficult time keeping your crew from overwhelming you, and muttered under his breath when he was checking your surgery sites about how it was like herding animals. You remember bits of Law keeping you company when you were unable to sleep during the dead of night from your naps during the day. He sat with his textbooks in his lap beside your bed and told you intriguing facts and topics from his studies. He sometimes fell asleep in the chair, and you remembered inviting him to sleep with you instead of in the chair. His cheeks turned bright red as he swiftly excused himself saying that he heard his crew calling him.

The rest of the Straw Hat Pirates kept you company through the day, much like they did when you were recovering on the Sunny. Franky and Usopp teamed up to design ‘sleeves’ to go over your metal arms when you wanted ‘skin’ over them. Usopp designed various color, black, and even metallic tattoos to go on some, and others had freckles or smooth skin. Some even had long, painted and fancy nails that you could even use like needle-like knives. Anything you could ever want your arms and hands to look like could happen. They blended seamlessly with your natural skin tone, and covered the attachment sites to protect them. Usopp and Franky finished the first one while you were still recovering, bursting into the room excitedly as you were sitting and chatting with a mixture of your crew and Law’s crew. Everyone startled for a second at the sound, but calmed once Franky’s bright smile shone and Usopp’s voice began to exaggerate the effort that went into the project. You eyed the sleeve with curiosity. It was basically like a glove made of synthetic skin, made out of the same material Franky used on himself.

“What design is this one?” you asked excitedly. Franky snatched the sleeve from Usopp and held it up, but you still couldn’t quite make out what the tattoos were.

“Hold out your left arm and close your eyes,” he instructed. You grinned and did as you were told. The cyborg gently slid the glove on your metal arm, making sure not to force it when something got caught. The pressure was still uncomfortable on your attachment sites, but it wasn’t exactly painful. You felt his fingers brush over the highly sensitive skin of the sites, and you jerked away from the sudden sensation.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay. They’re just really sensitive,” you answered. Franky hummed a little, carefully pulling the sleeve away from the metal and skin as he pulled it the rest of the way up.

“They’ll likely be for a little while longer, unfortunately. But this will help protect them, and won’t rub against it,” he answered. He finally stopped fidgeting with the sleeve and pulled back.

“Alright. Open your eyes,” he said proudly. Your eyes opened, gaze going directly to your arm. It was… stunning. A sleeve of your dream tattoos swirled on your skin, looking freshly healed and vibrant. You moved your arm, elbow bending and circled your wrist. The material moved exactly like skin, and your eyes traveled to where the attachment site should be. It was covered and the top of the sleeve thinned into featherlight nothingness as it blended into your shoulder.

“Wow” you whispered under your breath. You knew the material was synthesized to be stronger than normal skin, resistant to blades, bullets, and heat. Your brows scrunched upwards, and you fought back tears as a smile curved your mouth. Words of gratitude bubbled in your throat, too many to express coherently. Tears spilled down your cheeks as a laugh forced its way out. You simply held your hands out for a hug, one metal and one seemingly flesh. Both men grinned as tears welled up in their own eyes, and they hugged you at the same time.

“Thank you” you whispered. It didn’t feel enough, but there weren’t words deep enough to express your gratitude.

“Of course!”

“Always,” they answered in tandem. More laughter rose from your chest as you pulled back to inspect the sleeve some more. You noticed the texture of it, and the wrinkles indicating your knuckles. There were even ‘calluses’ on your fingers, and lines on your palm. The only thing different from real skin was that the sleeve was devoid of hair. Franky had explained earlier that putting fibers like that on would pierce through the material, and weaken it somehow, but it was a small detail you were willing to give up.

“It’s incredible work” you said in a hushed tone. You finally noticed the rest of the visitors were crowded around on the other side of the bed, getting a closer look at your sleeve. You held out your arm, and various fingers reached out to touch it and trace over the lines of your tattoos. You could feel it all. It was distant, but you were assured that you would be able to feel everything as much as possible in the next few months.

You couldn’t stop smiling and staring at your arm until it was time to take it off so Law could check your attachment sites.

“You’re healing really well,” he said quietly. You smiled up at him, but looked away when your heart flipped as he returned your smile with a tiny one of his own.

“Is that a compliment?” you asked teasingly. Law scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully.

“You wish. A compliment to Chopper-ya and Franky-ya, and to myself,” he muttered. You giggled. Your ribs were still sore with the movement, but apparently Law did something while you were in surgery to speed up the healing of your ribs and sternum. You watched him as he leaned over you, his eyes focused on your attachment sites as he moved your arm about.

“Law?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been in this bed for days. When can I start moving and gods above, when can I bathe?” you pleaded. Law sighed.

“Yeah, you're right. You do smell,” he said as he pulled back to walk around the bed to check your other arm. You rolled your eyes.

“I know. If you’d let me, I’d be on my knees begging you to have mercy but you won’t let me out of bed,” you huffed. Law’s face flushed and he cleared his throat loudly. The double meaning of your words slammed into you and your cheeks heated with embarrassment. Your thoughts had drifted to thoughts of him in terms of… bedroom activities, but that was because you were so bored! It had been a week, and during that time, you were only allowed out of bed to go to the bathroom under strict supervision.

“I didn’t mean it like that… I mean I wouldn’t be opposed but- I mean I just think you’re ho- um. Attractive? But of course I’m sure you know that and get told that a lot, even though you’re a sadistic dork, which is quite an impressive contradiction… right? And I’ll just shut up now,” you stumbled through your attempt at correcting yourself desperately, looking anywhere but the man standing at your side. The words kept flowing out of your mouth, digging yourself into a deeper hole with each syllable. Your cheeks were burning, and you felt heat all over your face from your embarrassment. Silence seeped into the air thick with your humiliating words. You felt like it lasted for much longer than you know it did, and it was only interrupted by Law letting out a small chuckle. You sighed and hid your face behind your hands. The cool metal pressed against your heated face, and you groaned both in relief and embarrassment.

“A hot, sadistic dork, huh?” he teased in a low voice. You made a noise in your throat- somewhere between a squeak and a groan. You distantly felt him touch the back of your hands, trying to pull them away from your face. You resisted, and hissed a little in pain when the attachment sites burned with the effort. He pulled back immediately, his cool hands tracing your skin and checking the sites to make sure nothing was injured. Your hands had fallen from your face and the burning eased quickly, and you could only focus on his golden eyes tracing over your skin and his cool hands maneuvering your arm. His piercing gaze found your admiring one and you yanked your gaze to your arm. The attachment site was completely fine.

“You like that I’m a hot sadistic dork, don’t you?” he murmured. You could hear the amused smirk in his voice, and you looked resolutely up at the ceiling, not looking at him.

“You changed my life with these. I think you’re an amazing surgeon and our ally and friend” you said carefully, raising your hands briefly to demonstrate your point. Your cheeks still felt hot.

“That didn’t answer my question,” he answered teasingly. You huffed a sigh, closing your eyes as you let your head fall onto your pillow. You felt him place his hands on the mattress near your shoulder and lean over you to check the other attachment site. Your heart flipped.

“Fine. Yes. I like that you’re a stupidly hot, smart, nerdy, sadistic dork” you answered with faux annoyance. You opened your eyes with a scowl, wishing you could control your arms gently enough to cross your arms over your chest. He was peering down at you from above, gold eyes pinning you to the bed with mirth and amusement. A stupidly sexy smirk curved his lips.

“See? It wasn’t that hard to admit now, was it?” His eyes flicked to your lips before meeting your gaze again. He swallowed hard, and you followed the movement, trailing your eyes from his throat down to his toned, tattooed chest. You ripped your eyes back up to his gaze, now highly amused by your obvious actions. Guilt stabbed through you, and you looked away, turning your head to the side.

“Kinda was,” you said easily. Law pushed back so he was standing upright, and sat down in a chair. There was a moment of comfortable silence.

“You were with Zoro-ya, weren’t you?” he asked quietly. You sighed heavily.

“Yeah. I was. For a few years” you answered. Law hummed.

“So your type is men with big swords?” he asked cheekily. You looked over at him quickly in surprise, before laughing in shock and at his joke.

“Yeah I guess so” you said around giggles. Law smiled gently at you. It was late, and he had kicked your crewmates off his ship for the night. You didn’t need to be checked on through the night anymore, so his crew was catching up on sleep if they weren’t partying with your crewmates.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked. You looked at him with a dying smile, and sighed.

“You want to know why Zoro and I broke up?” you guessed. The surgeon nodded. You sighed and settled on your bed on your side, with your arm tucked under your pillow to reduce the weight resting on the attachment site. It was still a little uncomfortable, but it wasn’t bad.

“If I’m honest, I’m not completely sure if we officially broke up. I got hurt protecting him after I told him we should run…” memories of the day flicked through your mind, and you shook your head a little before continuing, “I’m sure you know the details of the injuries and can piece together what happened. But he was knocked out for a bit, and I tried to protect him even then. I finally could call for help and only passed out when I knew one of my crew was there taking care of the Marines. Apparently he threw up when he saw my body, thinking I was dead, but then carried me back to the ship with whoever came to save us. I dunno if he was there when I was still asleep and recovering or what. But I do remember that when I was awake for good finally, he had to leave the room. Some night later, either that same one or the one after, I don’t remember, he came into my room and… yelled at me, I guess screamed at me?” The memory of his harsh words floated back to mind, and you closed your eyes in shame before looking at Law and continuing,

“He asked me why I protected him, saying he didn’t need saving. He was gripping my knee, and honestly I was scared he was going to crush it. He yelled at me, asking if I thought he was so weak that he needed saving, and what the hell I meant when I said I wasn’t thinking. He punched a hole in the wall above my head, and when I screamed, Luffy and Sanji ran in. He kept going though, keeping his fist in the wall he called me a weak pathetic piece of shit, how I could lose my arms to a wall, and that he wished the bomb had hit him so he wouldn’t need to see the person he was dating like… this,” you swallowed and cleared your throat. It was relieving to be able to tell someone what happened, instead of someone already knowing. It was hard to get the words out through your remembered fear, but it was still a relief to talk about it. Your gaze had wandered a little while you recalled the incident, and you looked back at the surgeon. His eyes were shadowed under his hat, but his jaw was clenched and his hands were curled into fists on his knees. You sighed, but continued with your story,

“Luffy dragged him out of the room and they fought. It took Luffy, Sanji, and Robin to restrain him until Luffy could break through his anger. Zoro even tried to attack Nami. He stayed away from me for a few days until he came to apologize. I had Franky right outside the door and had him keep it cracked open so he could intervene. I was probably kind of an asshole, but I was kind of surprised when he said he wanted to apologize. I asked if he really wanted to, and he said that Luffy told him he had to. I sarcastically said ‘oh thanks’ and he got kinda pissed and said ‘I’m trying to apologize, isn’t that enough?’ and I lost my shit. I yelled at him, saying that I wanted him to apologize when he means it, not because he was ordered to. Franky hauled Zoro’s ass out of the room and I haven’t seen him since. I don’t honestly know how to be around him anymore, but I love the crew,” you finished. You almost expected to cry during the story, but at this point, you were numb towards it. It happened, and nothing was going to change how he broke your heart.

You glanced at Law, who hadn’t moved, before shifting to lay on your back to ease the discomfort of your arm. You let the silence hang like the stickiness of humidity. It was a few minutes before Law spoke.

“Join my crew.”

You looked at him in shock, sitting up and turning fully towards him.

“What?”

“Just for a few months, until you feel comfortable going back to your own crew. Unless you decide you want to stay here. We run into the Straw Pirates often enough, especially if we keep this alliance,” he explained. You looked at him in surprise, but looked to the side as you started thinking.

“Law…” you started. He interrupted you.

“Don’t decide now. Think about it for a while and talk to your crew. I… I know that you kind of have something going on with that curly-browed cook too, and he will treat you exactly how you deserve. Better than I ever could. So think about it. We can sail near the Straw Hats for a little while too. It’s up to you,” Law stood and walked to the door, shoes tapping loudly in your shocked silence. He tossed a small smile over his shoulder before speaking again.

“Get some rest, and we’ll have Chopper help give you a bath tomorrow, okay? We’ll see how you feel walking around after that,” Law said. You nodded, and he opened the door to leave.

“Law” you called. He stopped, looking back at you with a raised brow.

“Thank you, for the offer. I’m seriously thinking about it,” you said. This time he nodded.

“Good.” He stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly. You flopped down back on the bed, thinking about his words.

I know that you kind of have something going on with that curly-browed cook too, and he will treat you exactly how you deserve. Better than I ever could. So think about it.

What did he mean by ‘better than I ever could’? Did he also feel the connection between the two of you?

Thoughts swirled around your head. You’d desperately miss your crew, who was family, but you’d be healing and could go back to them. But if you stayed here, you could fall in love with Law, or at least have something with him. You also did, admittedly, have something with Sanji, who cared for you and you knew would treat you right. But if you did get with Sanji, that could cause even more tension with Zoro. But if you went back to the Straw Hats, then you’d have Chopper, Franky, and Usopp to help you get used to your arm and training you, but Luffy was also reckless and you could end up in a situation you weren’t ready for. Law was meticulous and an incredible surgeon, and his crew were well trained in terms of mechanics, so it would be fine to stay with them. But if you stayed with them, then you’d really miss your family, but if you went back to them, you’d have to deal with living with Zoro, but if you stayed with the Heart Pirates, then you wouldn’t know how to live with Zoro and would have to adjust while also adjusting to living with the rest of them again.

You heaved a sigh, the thoughts swirling and circling back to each other in your head. You settled down in your heap of blankets and pillows, letting your thoughts sway your mind into a fitful sleep.

Those who asked to be tagged: @@blue-rae18 @metonimia-de-bellota @perilous-pasta @thesleppybitch darkartincub0-blog @letssayless @brokenangstyheart @stachelrose @fluffybunnyu @yunho-leeknow @admoonchild @lakkiiii @khjcoo

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profilethemesstuff · 6 months

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Earth 42 Miles G Morales theme

Don't steal my themes

Don't claim my themes

Give credits

#unfiltered background #gwen stacy #into the spider verse #spider gwen #across the spiderverse #amino aesthetic #miles morales #prowler miles

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dottedsilktie · 6 days

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Heartbreak season

Satoru and you end up in a peculiar predicament where you rely on each other to mend your broken hearts. It seems you have a harder time getting over your ex than he does, but he's always happy to help, no matter what it takes.

JJK College AU where reader falls hard for Toji before he leaves her to her own devices, and where Satoru frolics with Suguru before calling it quits. CW : MDNI - smut, afab reader, crude language, degradation, fingering, spanking, hair pulling, rough sex turns sweet, drinking, smoking, references to other relationships (Suguru x Satoru ; reader x Toji), breeding kink (kind of), fluff at the very end

You weren’t exactly yourself when you’d started dating Satoru. Leaving the quiet and intimate setting of your dorm room or Toji’s apartment to avoid the brunet made you fall headfirst in Satoru’s arms. Now, more often than not, your weekends are spent at his place, helping him host some dumb party or the umpteenth fundraiser his family was organising. The occasion never mattered, the only important issue at hand was for Satoru to get you in his arms and not let you out of his grasp for two uninterrupted days, sometimes even three when he managed to convince you to ditch Friday classes in favour of falling in bed with him a day earlier.

You were dancing in his living room like you’d done countless times by now, head thrown back to rest against his shoulder, eyes closed and hips undulating idly to the rhythm of the music.

Its loud thumping was in your ears and in your veins, the room starting to spin after 3 of your boyfriend’s sickeningly sweet but potent cocktails. Satoru’s large palms on your stomach and hips were scorching hot, making you arch your back and crane your neck to look at him with unfiltered lust. His dazzling blue eyes met yours, mirroring your own desire, before fluttering shut as he leaned down to press his spit-licked lips to yours. It was shameless - one hand splaying possessively on your stomach while the other groped at your hips, fingers long enough to dig into your ass, while he forced his tongue in your mouth. When you broke the kiss to catch your breath, you felt his breath fanning over your ear, mumbling something obscene as always - promises of how he’ll have you bent over his desk in no time, fucking you raw and within an inch of your life, making you drown in his cum. You only chuckled at that, finding his crude language funnier than it is arousing in your drunk state but your laugh died in your throat when you caught the green feline eyes staring you down from across the room.

Toji was looking you up appreciatively, his tired eyes glinting with disdain and lust, an odd combination you became too well acquainted with since you started dating Satoru. Toji wasn’t exactly a fan of the way Gojo handled you but he was, in a selfish, self-serving way, grateful for his foe’s proclivity for showing you off - so he could relive his own time with you through stolen glances, at the expense of the white-haired man. Somehow Toji’s eyes on you made Satoru’s possessive grip seem cooler, more bearable. You were biting your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and your whole body stiffened when Toji smiled at you lazily, raising his glass to you subtly before downing his drink and in that moment, everything seemed to fall into the background, the only thing at the forefront of your mind was the bob of his Adam’s apple as he savoured what you knew to be single malt whiskey.

You were suddenly thirsty, absolutely parched, eyes furiously darting from his throat to his face and then sinking lower, to the broad expanse of his chest, his muscular thighs clad in dark denim, trying to take in every single minute detail of his appearance and committing it to memory so you could use it later tonight when you’ll happily bend for Satoru so he can fuck into your pussy with abandon, ass up and face down to freely mumble what sounds suspiciously like “Toji”, the sound drowning in Satoru’s silk pillowcases.

It was always like this when you slept with Satoru : you were so obedient, bending to his every whim and command, letting him manhandle you in the exact position he wanted. By the time his hands or his tongue were on you, you were far gone, eyes glossed over with lust and something else, undecipherable and dark, and it didn’t matter if it was really Satoru that was fucking into your cunt with practised ease since you could easily pretend that the lithe fingers rutting in your pussy were Toji’s, the bruising grip on your hip big enough to be confused with the brunet’s, and with your eyes closed like this, memories flooding your fucked out brain, you’d just hum and whimper pleas of “faster, Toji”.

You had the decency to be quiet about it first, but Satoru wasn’t stupid, he knew who you pretended he was even before you started to freely moan another man’s name when it was his dick that was piercing through your plush walls. But he never reprimanded you - he had to act like he knew the feeling to get you where he wanted.

Especially on lonely nights when he called you over and unceremoniously shoved your face in his comforter, his hand slapping your soft ass with unrestricted force. He marveled at how the supple flesh recoiled and bruised, his slaps cruel enough to bring blood to the surface. He didn’t hold back, he reckoned it was the least you could do for him after he let you have your fun every time he fucked you. He too, used you to summon an old ghost he used to love.

The memory made his vision blurry and he couldn’t be more thankful that you always kept your head down obediently so you couldn’t see his face, red and pathetic, although he knew that it wasn’t out of sympathy for him but rather for the same self-serving reasons he had to sleep with you. Made it easier for you to lie to yourself. And it made him a little crueller to you, a little delirious - your disinterest veiled in subservience made his blood boil. You could tell too, from the way he shoved two long fingers in your pussy abruptly, pumping them in and out and punctuating his ministrations by harsh slaps to your bruised cheeks. It made wanton moans slip past your swollen lips, your hips pushing back in a silent plea for more. Satoru’s face split with a wide grin at that, slipping his fingers out of you to take a hold of his cock and pumping it lazily as he gritted out, “You’re such a slut, getting off being used like this”.

You couldn’t help the disgruntled scoff you let out, turning to face him with an unamused gaze “That’s rich coming from someone like you, you fucking man whore”. It only made him laugh harder, the sound mirthless and foreign from him, and shove his hand in your hair mercilessly, holding you up and making your back ach uncomfortably. “Shut the fuck up - that’s the only thing I ask of you, to keep your mouth shut and you can’t even do that ?” He barked, tone cold and cruel but it made you snicker all the same, and his grip became truly unforgiving when you reminded him “Why ? Does it make focusing harder ? I guess my voice and his are pretty different, it must remind you of who you’re actually fucking”.

Satoru snapped at this, using his grip in your hair to shove your face in his pillow in a way that made you wince in pain while he sheathed himself fully in you. He started fucking in you with abandon, threatening “That’s it, I don’t want to hear you - not a word, not a moan, not even a fucking whimper”. His tone was serious and strained, his pace animalistic - and you just didn’t have it in you to hurt him further, holding your position and crying quietly in the pillow as a familiar heat started to build in your gut. Your cunt spasming rhythmically against his cock made Satoru moan loudly, coaxing him into rutting in you deeper, harder and one of his skilled hands found your clit. You bit back the moan that threatened to bubble out of your throat, one of your hands reaching behind to settle on Satoru’s large grip on your hips, the featherlight touch of your cool hand painfully contrasting with his bruising, scalding hot hold on the fat of your hips.

The feeling of your small palm against his hand was enough to calm him down, making him curl over your back to bury his face in the crook of your neck and mumble strings of apologies, promises of how he’ll be gentler, that today was just one of those days when his longing got the better of him and made him harsher, angry at the world and, despite his best efforts, angry at you too. Still, his pace was relentless, and you could barely make out his words over the loud sounds of his pelvis slapping against your ass, but you still squeezed his hand reassuringly, craning your neck to look back at him with teary eyes and a small smile. “It’s okay, I get it, sorry for being mean to you” you mumbled in a weak voice, broken up by whimpers and moans.

It made Satoru dizzy, the way you were so kind and malleable in his hands, fucked out but still sickeningly sweet to him. It made the bitterness that burned his throat simmer down into something tamer, more manageable and all he could think of right now was the heat in his gut, the way he wants to litter your tear-streaked cheeks with open-mouthed kisses to overwrite the cruel rutting of his cock in your cunt. It makes him pull out immediately, making both of you whimper at the loss, but he's spinning you abruptly to lay you down on your back and kissing your lips messily. He sloths his tongue in your mouth, licking and sucking at your own at a leisurely place, his cock now pressed against your thigh where he’s smearing his pre-cum.

His hands are in your hair and around your throat in a loose grip, stroking your skin as gently as he can – his way of saying sorry, a silent promise of “I’m better now, I’ll be good to you”. You want to tell him that it makes no difference to you, that you expect nothing of him and that the odd fondness he harboured for you was smothering you – but you just didn’t find it you to stop him, so you kiss him back lazily. You dragged your tongue over his bottom lip, your hands lightly scratching his shoulders and his back, pulling away from his lips just enough to whisper in a needy voice “‘Toru, please fuck me, I need you”. The words sent a wave of pleasure in his body, pushing him into action without even having to think. He grabbed his cock and pushed it in your cunt slowly, leveling a wide-eyed gaze at your face to catch the way your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted at the intrusion.

He moved slowly this time, long and purposeful strokes of his hips into yours to watch the irritation and tension drain off your pretty face, only leaving raw pleasure in their wake to paint your cheeks and neck red. He was doing his best not to bite his adoration right into your skin, tearing his gaze off the column of your throat and following the line of your clavicles, eyeing your soft chest heaving in laboured breaths, and drifting lower to the dip of your waist. Your whole body was slack now, undulating languidly against his own with the sole purpose of pleasing yourself. Satoru realized the depth of his affection when he thought cry at the sight, his reverence was evident in his gaze and his touch. His hands were already trembling when he reached for your stiff and puffy nipples to pull and twist them, then moved his palms to knead at the plush fat of your breasts in a daze. But when he pressed one hand on your stomach to feel himself actual tears threatened to slip past his lash line.

His misplaced affection would be flagrant if you were paying it any mind but you weren’t. You were a puddle of nothingness, eyes closed and mouth open to moan wantonly, so Satoru just had to fuck you in earnest, hoping that even a fraction of his adoration would get through to you. It seemed like he was doing a fine job at it, with the way your teary eyes shoot open to search for his and a line of drool stained the corner of your mouth, mumbled pleas and his name, his name at last, leaving your lips in between gasps for air. The sight of his disheveled form did wonders for you too, a rare occurrence since you were always trying your hardest to not look at him whenever you gave yourself to him. It gives you whiplash, how his handsome face was broken up with the slightest tremors, almost making you forget how he usually took you – mean, cruel, unforgiving. Satoru usually fucked you like he hated you, barking at to you with a snarl so cruel you might just believe all the bullshit he spewed in his sex-crazed high. Yet the way his hips almost stilled now and the razor-sharp focus of his eyes on you made you think he was actually seeing you for the first time, that he wasn’t fucking you to forget the things he never speaks of, but with the sole intent to commit every last detail of your unkempt state to memory and to please you.

His look was nothing short of adoring and it made you sob, painfully sincere and broken, and Satoru caved in – hips picking up their pace, his dick drilling into your cunt while his forehead rested against yours and he was pleading like a madman ,“Please look at me, I want to see your face when you cum”. You nodded fervently, keeping your eyes open even as tears streamed down your cheeks and your pussy convulsed almost painfully around his length. Satoru rewarded you with kisses to your jaw, your temples, whispers of how beautiful you look, how he could cum just from looking at you but he still tried his hardest to starve off his own orgasm a little longer. He was greedy, thinking that for the first time you were being truthful in your pleasure and yielding, feigned subservience turning into honest affection, so he needed more proof of it. That’s why he asked you with urgency, hot breath fanning against your ear, “I’m close, where do you want me ?”. It was an odd question, given that you’ve always been hellbent on him never finishing inside you, but then again you also never wanted to even look at him yet your gaze was somehow boring into his like he was the only man to ever exist so he had to push his luck.

Your gaze faltered for a moment, turning away in a look he’s never seen on you before – bashfulness, uncertainty? – but you were quick to refocus on him again, biting your lip hard enough to taste iron on your tongue. You snaked your legs around his waist and dug your heels in his lower back, fisting your hand in his hair to bring him closer and whispering against his cheek “I want you inside, 'Toru – please, wanna feel it deep inside me”. Satoru had to close his eyes for a moment, your words echoing in his mind endlessly : it was the urgency, the sheer desperation of your pleas that got to him. You asked for it like you meant it for once, and he couldn’t deny you or himself much longer, so he grabbed your face to anchor himself and kiss you – all teeth and tongue, making an absolute mess of himself with how much he’s drooling into your open mouth – even as his hips stuttered with how hard he’s cumming. He couldn’t bring himself to stop the wild rutting of his hips, especially not when you let out a loud shriek of his name and started spasming around him once more, steadily driving him into overstimulation. By then he was weeping, crystalline tears bleeding into your cheek, and his orgasm seemed never-ending with how much he emptied into you. He held you close throughout it all, nosing at your cheek and drinking in your small whines.

When everything subsided and your breathing evened out, he still expected you to push him away, but you didn't. Instead, you maneuvered your tired limbs around his to twist on your side, sighing when he pulled out, your back against his chest. For once you weren’t trying to hide yourself anymore, so Satoru took another chance: he brushed your tousled hair out of your face and stroked your wet cheeks, and he marveled when you quietly cried against his palm. It was so unlike you, how soft you were allowing yourself to be.

Even after you ran to him when everything came crashing down with Toji you were still guarded. You’d let him flaunt you and stake his claim on you publicly, but it seemed like you were never really there through it all. And when he took you to warm his bed, after all was said and done, you’d flee to hide yourself in his bathroom and light yourself a cigarette while you soaked in his bath. Satoru had to sit in a pool of his own cum, resenting you for leaving him but loving you all the same. He hated that you always ran to call Toji and that he never picked up, so you kept trying until you grew too tired and settled on leaving him pathetic voice messages.

You never admitted to it, but Satoru knew it, could hear you even over the soft hum of the water splashing in the bathtub. It was never clear what you said, but you were there for a while – sometimes your diatribes were heated and angry and he could make out the biting words you were screaming in your phone receiver, on other instances your voice wasn’t louder than a murmur and he had to press his ear to the door to listen to your mournful voice. Your pain brought him back to his own suffering: the heartbreak, the screams withering into sobs, an open wound that festers. He knew it all too well, after all it’s what he used to get you where he wanted. Bonding over being left behind was the promise he initially made you, and the kinship you established was too entrenched in his past affliction for him to completely get over it. So, to keep you in his arms, he had to pretend to mourn what was with Suguru. You were understanding of his pain, doing just about anything to alleviate some of it, but you were unforgiving of his affection for you. It was almost endearing how you thought he was still fucking you while thinking about Suguru, but he humoured you.

Now’s different though. You’re unmoving in his embrace, save for the small sobs rocking your body. You don’t even reach for the pack of Dunhill smokes he keeps in the lowest drawer of his bedside table just for you. To make things worse, you twist again to face him this time, all-teary eyed and flushed cheeks and quivering lips, small hands grasping at him. It stirs something deep within him, premonition of what’s to come and at last any remnants of another love are stripped away from his mind. He tightens his hold around you, strokes your hair and cheeks, shushing you. It feels almost indecent, seeing in such a vulnerable state, like he’s invading your privacy even when you’re the one clinging to him. He moves to put some distance between you, whispers that he’ll get you a wet cloth and some water – an excuse to get away from you, because if you keep it up, he just might combust.

You only cry harder, sitting up and encircling his torso with your arms, your cheek against his shoulder blade. “Don’t leave me”, you start weakly, tremolos of sadness and something undecipherable making your voice vacillate. Satoru freezes instantly, slowly placing a hand over yours on his stomach, quickly promising, “I won’t, I’m here” but it doesn’t soothe you. So you repeat louder, as if to convey the weight of your words, “You don’t get it, you have to promise you won’t leave me”. “I just did”, he retorts, the smile in his voice is evident and it makes you want to slap it clean off his pretty face.

You press yourself against him a little harder, hitting his chest but he catches your hand and turns to face you. “I know what I’m saying, I won’t leave you” he repeats, intertwining his fingers with yours and his grin grows even wider when you struggle to meet his gaze – acting all coy even as his cum seeps out of your cunt, even after you begged for him and asked for his reassurance. You both know what it means. He speaks up again “I won’t, so you have to promise me the same, okay ?” He presses again, has to see if you really understand the weight of your own request. You do ; he sees it for himself when you blink up at him and mouth “I promise”.

That night you both soak in Satoru’s bathtub. You don’t smoke and you don’t make any late night calls. Instead, Satoru feeds you peppermint flavored sweets to replace the harsh menthol of your smokes. He talks your ear off from the bathroom to the bed, and doesn’t let you out of his arms as he bathes you, dries you, dresses you – a wordless vow of how he’ll do just about anything for you.

You go to bed facing him and kiss him back with fervour, mouthing countless promises into his mouth – a covert love confession that’ll have to do for now. Satoru knows you’ll be more honest soon, but he also knows that he’s already won when he catches you throwing away your cigarettes the next morning and replacing them with the brand of mints he likes, stashing them away in his – soon to be yours, too – bedside table.

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#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x yn #gojo x you #jjk gojo #gojo smut #toji fushiguro #jjk angst

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ssentimentals · 2 years

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dating vernon feels like…

being accepted for who you are. hansol leaves no room for pretense or anything fake; he’s here for honesty, raw imperfection and everything that makes you the person you are. unfiltered thoughts, sincere emotions, undisguised vulnerability - hansol wants it all, can’t stand the notion of you hiding parts of yourself from him.

('i’m a mess,' you whimper and he shushes you, carefully prying your hands from your face. you didn't want him to see your puffed up face and red eyes and-

'don’t hide from me,' he asks (begs, really). his heart breaks a little at the sight of your tears, but one of you has to stay strong and it'll be him. 'it’s okay to cry, just don’t- don’t shut me out, yeah? i'm here.')

and he is here. always there for you. he joins you on your sporadic dancing outbursts in the living room or in the middle of the street, invests his whole attention into anything you’re interested in from cooking to new anime series.

('are you tired? it's okay, we can watch it next time,' you say, not pressing 'play' button. hansol shakes his head and you sigh in exasperation and fondness, when he stubbornly presses the button for you and starts the first episode. 'hansol, you're going to fall asleep right now.'

'and you raved about this anime for the whole week, we're definitely watching it.' he cuts you off and yawns against his better judgement, making you roll your eyes. he gets comfortable and motions for you to also relax, smiling in satisfaction when you lean on his right side. 'i read the wikipedia page about this and checked few forums,' he suddenly says and lifts his eyebrow when you stop and turn to him look at him, surprised. 'what?'

there's warmth in your heart that spreads all over your body and you smile so wide your cheeks start to hurt. 'nothing. let's watch the episode.')

there's no need to put a show with him, he accepts you with your morning breath and pillow creases on your cheeks, just as he accepts you all dolled up, ready for the date. he is straightforward but he's not blunt about it, always chooses his words carefully because hurting you is never his intention. his compliments sound more like fact statements ('why are you asking me this? it's like asking if sun is hot, of course you look wonderful!') and he can and will call you out if you're being not fair ('babe, i'm gonna be honest here and say that you were wrong in this situation. i understand where you're coming from, but saying that was a wrong thing to do.').

his touch is gentle and his kiss is chaste and sweet. dating hansol is like being back in the high school again, when holding hands while walking down the corridor made your hearts flutter. he makes you feel giddy with excitement but at ease at the same time. he makes you feel like it's alright to be who you are, imperfect and what not. ('i am just me and you are just you - it's simple.')

dating hansol is chill dates with popcorn and some netflix movie playing the background, because there is no need for all the fancy things when being together is most important. it's him sending you music recs and you sending him memes and staying up late till 3 a.m because you two are texting each other nonstop. it's him waiting for yours 'i'm home' text so he can go to bed and you waking up to 'morning, beautiful. have the best day' text from him.

dating hansol is like breathing with your full chest, unrestricted. he makes you feel like you're worthy of everything just by being you, like sky is the limit, like impossible is nothing.

('you think i can make it?' you ask with a trembling voice. nerves are eating you up alive but when he takes your hands in his and squeezes, the world doesn't look like such a scary place anymore.

'i know you will make it,' he says and he sounds so sure, no trace of doubt that you have no other choice but to believe him. 'everything will work out. and in case it doesn't - i'm here.'

'you are always here,' you say, rolling your eyes but smiling widely.

hansol nods, serious. 'and i always will be.')

a/n: this was supposed to be in bullet points but of course i got carried away. it's very spontaneous, hope you liked this one!

#seventeen vernon #svt vernon #seventeen fluff #choi hansol #seventeen hansol #svt hansol #vernon x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen reaction #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenarios #vernon chwe #seventeen #svt #hansol x reader #vernon

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motheatenscarf · 5 months

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Amidst all the James Somerton fallout, I think it's important to remember not to moralize whether or not you or others fell for his grift.

Obviously, if you were rallied into being one of his attack dogs on social media when he put some pretty heinous hits out on people, uh. You might have other problems and should probably evaluate how you spend your time online and how you treat other people before you start caring about the rest of the points I'm about to make. Priorities, etc.

But for the rest of us, it's surprisingly easy to miss just how awful a creator can be.

If you only watched his videos that caught your interest, if you don't really follow creators on social media, if you skip livestreams because watching Some Guy talk unfiltered into a bad camera angle with shitty lighting for hours on end sounds like a fucking nightmare to you, you're not really gonna catch most of this shit. At least, you're not gonna catch most of it from any perspective but the one he tries to spin.

This is a reminder to be skeptical and to trust your gut and check sources if something sounds wrong, but also. Uh. That's still the creator's responsibility not to plagiarize and to fact check their work. You're not morally obligated to be as thorough in curating your experience as someone who is making sure they take every ethical precaution before absolutely destroying a "creator's" credibility in a video like H-Bomb's or Todd in the Shadows'. You're literally just some guy. Most people, myself included, watch these videos as background noise while doing at minimum one other task, you're not gonna google every damn thing he says, especially not on media analysis, where the POINT is to have one's own opinion. THEY'RE the ones trying to be "influencers," or, laughably, "creators." The standards are on them.

And for the isms, phobias, and misogyny, well. Frankly, for my own perspective, I gaslight myself all the damn time when I see red flags. Good Allyship™ has been telling me for years to ignore my own discomfort when someone criticizes a privileged group, especially one I'm a part of. I'm a cis asexual white-passing and probably neuroatypical woman, I am constantly trying to be aware of my own relative privilege while simultaneously doubting my own reaction to things. Despite this, I'd still liked to think I'm a skeptical person, but nobody's immune to everything. Everybody has weak spots.

If you got duped or fell for James' scam, that sucks. I feel ya. I fell for it too, I've seen probably 40% of his catalog over the last couple years and really liked what I'd seen. I recommended his channel and videos to people even if I didn't always agree with every point he made, but it felt important to at least consider what to me seemed like a unique perspective that had value or added to a conversation. There are red flags within his content, his analysis, his rate of publishing, his weird diatribes, that in retrospect, really all added up into things I should have known better than to ignore. But, for reasons I'm interrogating and am adding to my list of things to be aware of about myself, I didn't ignore them, and got grifted. I donated to his patreon a few times, probably gave him like $20 grand total over the years, about as much as I've given H Bomb. The important take away here isn't to be ashamed of the fact that you were fooled, it's to remember that you're fallible.

And it's good to recognize that about yourself. Everyone is, and the ones who say they aren't are lying. They're either gonna be the next person to feel really stupid and foolish when they fall for a scam, or are themselves the grifter.

No one is immune.

#James Somerton

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pastel-pillows · 3 months

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Finally free of Hawkins Billy makes his way back to California after years away where he makes a special stop at his favorite diner.

Word count: 8925

No warnings!

“One all American breakfast, extra bacon, extra crispy, with a black coffee, extra hot. Banana nut French toast with a side of sausage and orange juice and an Ella’s original with water, coming right up.”

The sun had just barely made its home in the sky for the day yet the diner was already bustling, silverware on ceramic plates and chatter mixing into an ambient background noise that mingled perfectly with the wafting scent of brewing coffee and frying foods. Large windows let in unfiltered light to bathe the small diner in a natural glow and despite the early hour, most everyone seemed to genuinely be enjoying the welcoming atmosphere the building was bringing in, content, and some admittedly sleepy, faces all at peace.

“Thanks Hun, you’re the best.” A wrinkled hand held out the menus for you to grab, her other one patting the top of your hand in a silent ‘nice to see you gesture’ as you grab them.

“It shouldn’t be too long of a wait, most of the morning rush has been seated and served.” Tucking the menus underneath one arm you turn your attention to the toddler seated next to the older woman to ruffle his hair. “Would you like some crayons, little man?” Flipping the paper place mat in front of him over you pointed to the drawings and little mazes printed on it, all things he’d seen many times before but was nonetheless excited each and every time you showed him them.

“Here you go sweetheart.” The bell over the door chimed while you were grabbing the cup with worn down and, unfortunately, mostly broken crayons, so you call out over your shoulder that you’d be with whoever had just walked in, in just a minute. “Who’s the lucky person you’re coloring for this time?”

Having known the Hannigan’s from the summers you’d spent with your grandmother, you’d become quite familiar with their kids and in turn their grandkids and had several juice-stained pieces from Jackson pinned to the fridge in the kitchen of the restaurant. You didn’t get to hear his answer, the door chiming once more covering up the gentle reply from the timid kid so you just nod to pretend that you’d heard what he said and then promised to be back soon with their food and to check on his masterpiece.

By the time you made it back to the podium up front, no one was there to be found. A quick scan told you that whoever had come in had either gone to the counter to pick up an order or had gotten too impatient and simply left.

“He already left, sweetheart. Grabbed some pastries and booked it.” Helen reading your searching face gestures to the small glass display to illustrate her point. “Must’ve been on the road and in a hurry, I didn’t recognize his face, real quiet kid too, he didn't say much.”

“Thanks for taking him, I got caught up talking to Jackson about his art.”

“If only I was thirty years younger, he was a cute little thing.” Helen waves away your thanks in favor of cooing over the mystery man with the sweet tooth and how she would’ve eaten him up back in her day.

“Your mailman is going to be heartbroken.” You shoot a quick glance over the counter to see Sabino still cooking and take the chance to lean over the counter and gossip about Helen’s love life. “ The sailor, too.”

“Honey, there is plenty of me to go around, even at my age a good time is a good time. You should really be getting out there too, we can manage a shift or two without you, you know? The place isn’t going to crumble if it’s just us and you need to have fun while you’re young.” In between stories of her rendezvous Helen loved to urge you to follow in her footsteps and take the good that was offered, or at the very least spend time anywhere that wouldn’t leave you smelling of burnt coffee and fried foods. Her own kids had grown and left some time ago and she’d taken to you with an almost maternal, maybe more older sister role and was no stranger to worrying over you.

A pair of plates scraping as they slid across the tiled ledge drags your sight from Helen’s scrutinizing, albeit well-meaning gaze to a plate of French toast stacked sky high with whip cream, chopped nuts, bananas and powdered sugar and a much more modest one of eggs, hash browns and bacon. “Better get that, Jackson hates when the whip cream melts before he can eat it.”

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in going out; California was thriving –the place to be with seemingly new things coming out every day, but you needed to save. A car wasn’t going to buy itself and waking up at four every morning to catch the bus to make it to the diner on time wasn’t something you wanted to do forever and as much as you like rooming with Lisa, a place of your own was eventually the goal.

Your shift passes slowly after that, thoughts of what girls your age were doing occupying your mind, daydreams of nights out and shopping trips mixing with the fried scent of reuben sandwiches and chicken tenders as the morning crowd bled into the afternoon lunch rush.

Helen’s words left you longing for both the things you were missing out on and the parties you’d gone to in high school. You hadn't realized just how much you’d missed having simple mindless fun until today. The memories of his laughter echoed in the back of your head through your afternoon chores and well into the evening, your dreams were water colored that night, pretty but distant and just out of reach.

“Morning Hun.” Sabino, the only person to get there earlier than you, sat at an empty table with a mixing bowl full of fruit loops in front of him and a steaming cup of coffee which he slides to empty space on the other side for you to enjoy.

Sliding into the seat, you lay your head down on the table and wrap your palms around the warm ceramic to both enjoy the last dregs of sleepiness and allow yourself to fully let the approaching work day settle in in the peace of the morning. After a good ten minutes had passed, the bell on the front door chimes once, then twice– and finally a third time to let you know Helen, Marie and Dennis had made their way in and that it was time to chug your now lukewarm coffee and start getting things ready.

The morning prep goes fairly painlessly and as the sun creeps up people began to trickle in, all of them just as heavily lidded and reluctant to leave the cozy promise of beds and sleep that came with nightfall as you had been, but perking up at the smell of coffee and grilling bacon that saturated the air .

“Welcome to Cecil’s, will you be dining with us or ordering to go?” It was barely fifteen minutes past the hour when the bell chimes signaling another customer had come ambling in. Marie was hosting today and you can just barely hear her greeting the patron with an enthusiasm that could only come from someone who was as new to the workforce as she was, fresh faced and eager with everything ahead of her.

There was a longer than usual pause and you heard Marie speak again. “Sir?” Just a few more seconds pass and a deeper voice responds with three words that had you craning your head to peek around the corner where you’d been setting out the pastries.

“Coffee, to go.”

Marie repeats his order to confirm. “One black coffee to go. Can I get you anything else this morning? They’re just putting the pastries out, we make them ourselves.”

“Just the coffee, thanks.”

“Yes sir.” Knowing you should probably brush it off as someone who just sounds familiar, you find yourself quickly stacking the last of the muffins and closing the display to finish before Marie is done pouring the coffee to get a glimpse of the man up front.

Rounding the corner you make it in time to see Marie putting the pot of coffee back, she’d given him decaf on accident, with no one else up front. “Marie?”

“Yeah, hun?”

“Can you cover for me real quick? I need to check on something.”

“Sure thing, honey.”

He was still there, sitting with one hand resting outside the window of his car holding a cigarette that he wasn’t smoking, head tilted back and eyes locked firmly on the roof of his car, the coffee he’d just bought was placed on his dash with the lid popped off and several sugar and creamer containers were open and emptied alongside it.

To everyone, including yourself, he looked to be just another man who was taking a moment to collect himself before the start of another day. To those who paid just a little more attention he looked nervous, the hand holding the dwindling cigarette shaking slightly at the sound of your approaching footsteps.

“Billy?” He could hear the sun in your voice, feel the warmth.

“Hey Princess.” He offered an easy toothy grin as if him stopping by to say a quick hello was a common occurrence.

“I knew I recognized that voice. I didn’t know you were back in town, are you visiting family?”

“I’m just here for a few days on my way through town, then I'm heading out.” Billy flicks the butt of his cigarette to ash it, the cherry burning upwards on a smoke he’s only taken one drag from.

“That’s a shame, it’d be nice having you back around. You always had a way of shaking things up.” The chime of the bell over the door alerts you to Marie before the call of your name does. “Stop in for breakfast before you go, yeah? I’m on for the next three days, all opening shifts. I’ll have our chef Sabino make you his famous peanut butter banana nut waffles.”

You pat the hood of his car a few times and bid him goodbye over your shoulder while making your way back into the well-loved diner for the rest of your shift, a skip only your coworkers would notice had been added to your step.

After two weeks had gone by, you were sure that Billy had simply come and gone, sparing a quick stop to say hi to a highschool friend before disappearing to wherever his final destination would be. The coast was your guess, somewhere quiet, but not isolated where he’d always be close to the water. He’d always loved surfing on warm days where he could relax while digging his toes into the sand and watching the waves lap at the shore on the cooler ones.

It was a short meeting but it left a lasting impression on you, memories flitting through your mind while you worked for the rest of the day.

The trailers were just coming to an end when you’d finally made your way into the theater, the opening scenes filling the screen while you balanced your popcorn, soda and candy in one hand and your purse in the other, the narrow aisles seeming smaller with every seat already full for the debut showing of Terminator 2. Even in the dim lights, it was obvious tonight was going to be a sold out show.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Every empty seat you managed to find was filled by a bag or stray sweater to signal it was being saved for a friend or already taken by someone who were making a quick dash to the concessions for a refill on popcorn and coke, having already downed theirs during the ads for upcoming movies and new products.

“I’m sorry my friend is sitting here, she just went to the bathroom.” Linda Hamilton’s voice booms on the speakers just as the girl was talking, her words hushed and nearly lost by the on screen presence, but the apologetic expression was more than enough to let you know exactly what she had said.

A shout of your name brings your attention to a row towards the back where you were surprised to see Billy waving you over, his tenor deep enough it cut through the boom of the music sequence to show you that he was pointing to where there was an empty seat next to him.

You had to squeeze past more than a few people to reach him, awkwardly shuffling sideways while being sure not to step on anyone’s toes as you made your way down the aisle to where he sat next to the seemingly only open seat left in the theater. “You always were there in my time of need, I might just start to think you’re my hero.”

“You’re here on your own?”

“Sara was supposed to get here earlier to save seats but she called last minute to cancel.” You had a sneaking suspicion that her sudden change in plans had something to do with the new coworker she’d met last month named Michael, his name had been popping up in more and more of your conversations and you knew it was only a matter of time before her work crush turned into something more. Juggling your stuff, you managed to get your sprite into the drink holder and tuck your bag underneath the seat before collapsing into it with a relieved sigh. As used to being around strangers and making pleasantries as you were from work, it was nice to settle beside someone you knew on your day off.

The movie was ok and Billy was sure he would have liked it had he gotten more of the story but his attention was divided between you and the big screen, his eyes having a hard time choosing between the fast paced action scenes up ahead and your delighted face as you crunched away on your treat. In that hour and a half, he learned a few things: you like to talk during movies, soft enough that only he could hear your whispered commentary and jokes, you alternated between salty and sweet, for every few handfuls of popcorn you would toss a mouthful of reese's pieces into your mouth for balance, and no matter how many times he declined your offer of snacks you’d always offer again a few minutes later, never content until he was eating too.

“Did you see the Hospital escape?” By time the movie had ended you’d made your way through all of your Reese’s pieces and soda but still had about half of your popcorn left, you were clutching it to you and still snacking on it as you recited the film you’d just seen back to him in a dramatic play by play. “I never saw the first one, but Sara had insisted this was going to be the ‘it’ movie of the summer. You saw the first one, right? How did this one hold up compared to it?”

Like it was a habit you’d been doing forever you leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder as you walk through the lobby and towards the parking lot, the tub of popcorn being shoved into his view from time to time in your never ending bid to feed whoever was around you. He tensed at the contact initially, but relaxed as you walked in stride with him, the warmth of your head against his bicep bleeding through the denim of his coat. The arm that wasn’t clutching the butter stained container to your chest looped its way around the arm you were leaning against to offer you an easier time keeping pace with him.

Outside the sun had reached the final stages of setting, the darkness crowding the streaks of crimson and orange and snuffing out the last of today to get ready for the morning to come. It was still warm, made bearable by the breeze that drifted in from the west. You walked absentmindedly with Billy to his car, side by side like no time had ever passed and waited until he was by the driver's door to hand him the rest of your salty snack before wishing him a good night.

“Hey, wait, you have a ride?” He rested against the car with one arm, the other digging into the pocket of his jacket to grab his cigarettes and lighter.

“I walked here, Sara was supposed to meet me at my apartment and we were going to head here together since my place is just around the block.” Your thumb pointed behind you to show the direction you'd be heading and to give him some reassurance that you didn't have far to go to make it home.

Billy opened his mouth to say something. He'd wanted to insist on a ride, tell you to be safe, ask if you were sure; instead he pursed his lips together and brought the lighter to the end of his cigarette and just nodded.

“I’m glad I was able to see you one more time before you left.” He wondered if you could feel the way his body froze when you wrapped your arms around his frame to give him a quick hug, thanking him for watching the movie with you, or the way it relaxed as you did that same little squeeze right before you let go to say goodbye, just as you’d done since you were kids. He thinks you did when you turned back around for another hug, a fast one, clinging to him for the briefest second almost like you were making up for the goodbye you never got to have back then.

If he thought back far enough, he could remember what it was like before, before his mom had left, before Hawkins, before the mind flayer.

You’d been together from the start from kindergarten with Mrs.Mayo, where he’d been paired with you as your walking buddy. Your school in California had been a lot different from the one in Hawkins– rows of buildings connected like a strip mall with no hallways. The school had been fenced in of course, but they had you pair up for safety anyway and when it came time to take you to the cafeteria or the play area they’d line you up and have you walk side by side.

Everyday, multiple times a day he’d find himself next to you, marching in rows to get lunch or visit the library, but he never minded, you were nice, you liked to talk and you always shared your animal crackers on the walk back from the elementary rooms to the preschool and kindergarten area.

It didn't take long for his teacher-assigned partner to become his best friend.

He’d spend recess walking on the wooden beams that lined the wood chipped area of the playground, balancing on the thin strips and pretending you were on a pirate ship and walking the plank. Billy remembered taking turns with Selena, you and Andrew on the swings, competing to see who could get the highest before jumping off and bragging that he’d be able to swing high enough that he could loop around the metal bar. He’d hog one of the swings for the entire play time trying to soar over the top but had never managed to.

Even in class you’d been together, your desks arranged into pods of four that made up the ‘blue group’ were pushed flush together, blue construction paper taped to the forward facing side with your names written in your own messy scrawls. No matter how far back he’d thought, there was never a moment you weren’t a part of, something he’d only realized after replaying your night at the movies together.

It was an easy friendship to have.

It became a hard friendship to maintain.

You weren’t oblivious, he knew you weren’t, you’d seen the change. You heard the way playground roughhousing had evolved into high school rumors of vandalism, hookups and bullying, but Billy was still Billy, at least to you and when the lunch bell rang, he'd wait around your classroom and walk side by side with you to his car where you’d pile in with a mixture of his friends and whatever girl he was with that week.

“Let’s get Jack in the Box, those tacos have been calling my name since the second period.” Sid had one arm looped around your shoulder and one around the driver's seat where he was patting Billy’s chest to emphasize his need for the fast food tacos. “I’m sure our girl here could go for some onion rings.” He jostled your shoulder knowing if anyone could sway the vote for today’s lunch excursion that it’d be you.

“Curly fries do sound really good.” His eyes were on you, visible through the rear view mirror.

“Can we get McDonald’s, Billy? I’d die for a milkshake right now.” The front seat was occupied by Amanda who was using the visor’s mirror to swipe on some lip gloss.

With one hand on the wheel and the other on Amanda’s thigh, Billy backed out of his parking spot, the rubber of his wheels leaving black marks on the pavement as he peeled out “A milkshake sounds good to me.”

“Come on man, even she wanted Jack in the box.” Defeated Sid slumped into his seat, a pout on his face at the lost opportunity to fix his midday cravings.

“An apple pie sounds good, too.” Your hand found Sid’s arm to give it a squeeze.

“I didn’t want an apple pie.” Through the mirror you could still feel his gaze, heavy, intense, and entirely focused on you as the car sped down the road towards town.

At the time it’d seemed like a good idea, in his mind at least, to push you away. It’d be easier for you both if you were the one who chose to walk away, he’d had plenty of experience with that and he knew if that was how things ended, he would at least be ok.

You’d known he was going to move, a few of your friends had gotten together in the dried creek behind his house to get wasted, say goodbye with jokes and talk about how he was planning to blow that ‘Midwest shithole’ that Susan had found for them in the middle of nowhere. You’d all stayed well past the setting sun, watching the running oranges and red dampen into a star-smattered sky while passing around the cheapest bottle of vodka that Wayne had been able to get his hands on.

The burn of the cheap booze sat in your throat even after the bottle had been handed from you to Billy to Wayne then to Sid, the bitter taste masked only by the bottle of apple juice you’d been nursing on the side.

“This year is going to blow without you man. Why’d your sister have to go try and run away like that?”

“She’s just a kid.” You defended.

“She’s not my sister.” His first answer overlapped your own. “She’s not my sister.” The second a much firmer response.

“Right, sorry man. I’m just bummed you’re leaving.” Sid raised his hands in defeat and the stereo pausing before switching to the following song, Rock you like a hurricane, was like an awkward punctuation to the tense conversation.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be back here the day I turn eighteen. There’s no way I’m staying in that backwoods hell.” A breeze kicked up, warm but with the barest whispers of the impending winter, and you’re hit with the scent of cigarettes, liquor and cologne.

“Hey, Billy!” A little further down the dried creek Amanda calls out, she’s got a bottle of something brown clutched in her hand and two of her friends flanking her on either side.

“It’s about time you showed up.” Billy’s grin is wolfish when he pats his leg to invite her to sit on his lap, the excuse of there being nowhere else to sit leaving his mouth before she could make her way to the over crowded couch.

Things picked up from there, a bottle being passed between friends turned into more cars pulling up and beers being handed out as people clapped Billy on the back and told them they’d miss him, plans for the following summer already being made with liquor fueled optimism.

It was around three when people begrudgingly began to make their way home, designated drivers towing their drunken friends into their cars where they’d shout a final goodbye over the idling engines and milling people to Billy who just waved them off in favor of sucking face with Amanda.

“Hey man, we’ve gotta get home. My mom gets up at five and if I’m not home she’s gonna ship me off to Indiana with you.” Wayne stood behind the couch, fingers gripping the backrest and shaking it to get the pair's attention.

“I’m a little occupied.” Amanda’s lips stayed busy against his cheek as Wayne continued to whine about Sid being too drunk to drive them home.

“School starts in a couple hours, Billy. We could really use a ride home.” He didn’t respond to you at first, instead tilting his head so Amanda could continue to lather him with attention.

“Come on man.” Wayne shook the back of the couch hard enough it rattled you as well to no response other than a middle finger in his face. “Why don’t you try, Honey? He likes you better.”

“It is getting really late, Billy, would you mind taking us home?” Billy’s head lolled to the side and for a few seconds you felt like he was scrutinizing you, his blue eyes hardened for the briefest moment before softening and ultimately shifting to annoyance.

“Let’s go.” He patted the side of Amanda’s hip to tell her to hop off. “I’ll be back, Honey, wait for me here. Let’s make this quick, I have better things to do than drive you three home.”

“Told you he’d do it if you asked.” Wayne’s breath reeked of cheap beer when he leaned in to try to whisper that to you but the words simply went in one ear and out the other, just barely registering in the back of your mind.

He’d called her Honey.

He’d called her Honey and that shouldn’t have bothered you, but it had, more than the cold shoulder he’d been giving you for the past two months. It was a sting, sharp and quick, like the jab of a needle to see how pleased he was when she smiled at the nickname he’d only ever used on you. That had been your name since you were small, it was what everyone had called you, and it had never been all that special, not until it was given to someone else.

Sid’s house was closest and it took both Wayne and Billy to nearly drag him into the house, he’d been well past drunk and found the entire thing funny as the two wrestled him into a standing position so they could get him to walk with them. Wayne was next, a lot more sober than Sid, he offered Billy an arm around the shoulder squeeze and a “Keep in touch man.” Before he was off to climb in through his window.

When he’d pulled up to your house you didn’t reach for the handle, instead turning in your seat to face him. “Did you want to-“

“I’ll stop by tomorrow before I go.” He didn't miss the way your smile faltered as he said that.

“Promise you won’t forget me in the chaos of the morning before you go?”

“I won’t forget you, I promise.” His arm twitched against the back of your headrest where it lay, the habit of you hugging him before leaving his car ingrained into him. It was a small movement unnoticed by you, but a moment of weakness to him to see that he’d been expecting, wanting, that last hug.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Silly Billy.” The nickname got a smile out of him, the first one he’d directed at you that night

“Bye, Honey.”

The next time you see him, you had ended up missing the bus by a few minutes, the fading red of the tail lights grew dimmer as they ventured further into the night. The heavy rain obscuring them and your hope of making it home far quicker than it should have on a summer night like this. It was warm at least, so it could definitely be worse, you reassured yourself, the air stifling despite the waters rushing down your face in rivulets and drenching your uniform with each trudging step forward, it could be winter.

Home was easily more than an hour and a half walk that you weren’t willing to take at this time of night, and the diner’s doors were locked until Sabino made his way in the next morning. A hotel would be too expensive so you turn to walk towards the edge of town hoping that Marie would be home and not at her night shift at the nursing home.

“Get in.” The roar of an engine reaches you before the lights do, muted by the downpour that had left you soaked to the bone and ready to throw down the fifty dollars for the cherrywood hotel that would assure you a bed and a shower in the next few blocks, even if it would be for less than eight hours. Your body tensed for the second it took you to process that the car that had pulled to the stop beside you was the same bright blue Camaro that had left the diner a few hours before you had and once it sunk in who the furrowed brow and rumbling voice belonged to you were more than eager to climb into passenger seat and melt into the leather interior that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and cologne. “What the hell are you doing out here, you’ll get hit in this weather.”

“I missed the bus, a table of six walked in right before closing and I just got out.” Water still drips from your hair and lingeres on your lashes before splashing onto the seat belt you were strapping across your chest. “I was heading to a coworkers to see if I could spend the night.”

A cigarette stayed tucked between pinched lips while Billy exhaled a sigh,he’d gone straight to the laundromat after grabbing a burger to go and had spent the last two hours on a hard plastic chair waiting for his clothes, which were all crammed in his back seat, to be done. “I’ll give you a lift, you still staying on Lakeshore?”

“Are you sure? It’s a little out of the way.”

“I was heading that way, I’m staying with an old friend until I find a place of my own.” The key with the tag ‘Cherrywood Room 218’ was burning a hole into his back pocket at the lie.

Billy’s knuckles were white, both hands wrapped tightly on the wheel with his thumb tapping against the hard plastic, the sound of the heavy rain pounding the top of his car had muddled with his racing thoughts of what to say until it was a cacophony of white noise that spurred on his anxiety. He’d gotten this far, taken years to heal, made it back home and was seated by you. He knew what he wanted next but being here alone with you had him feeling like he had when he moved away when he was seventeen, unable to express what he was feeling. It boiled his blood to feel helpless in a situation.

“You’re staying?” Just two words, spoken in no special way, warms him, stoking a growing feeling that you’d been feeding with each interaction, with each touch and act of compassion. He knew that he had a lot to fix, and that you weren’t the answer to how he would do that, but you were an ember, crackling quietly as a source of comfort he’d never known before, creating cracks in the wall he’d hastily boarded his heart up with all those years ago when his mom had left.

“I’m sticking around for a while. This place feels like home, you know?” He’d have to break the rest down himself, take steps to the life he knew he wanted, but he had a foundation, a place that wanted him.

His grip on the wheel loosens, the tension from just minutes prior lifting with the contended hum you answered with as if you had just given him permission to allow himself to want to stay.

The drive passes quickly after that, with your head rested against the window watching the rain race against the chilled pane of glass and the both of you wrapped up in your own thoughts, neither of you seeming to realize you’d made it to your driveway until the car went from smooth cement to the crunching of your gravel driveway.

You linger in the car for a minute, your hand on the handle of the door steeling yourself to be drenched again. “Thanks for the ride, Billy.”

“It’s not a big deal, I’m staying just a few minutes from here.” Again the key feels more present in his pocket, reminding him of the can of worms he was opening by allowing himself to take this time with you.

“I’m glad you’re sticking around, senior year just wasn’t the same without you around, I missed having you there.” The volume of the rain increases as you crack open the door. “Thanks again for taking me home, the next time you come into the diner, desserts on me.”

“Take this.” Before you’d fully opened the door Billy shrugs his coat off, the same brown leather one he’d had since you were fourteen, to hand to you, his favorite one he’d never let anyone else wear, let alone borrow before tonight. He lingered for a bit, watching you run the short distance to your front door with his coat held above your head, the leather he’d taken such care of getting drenched to spare you from getting any wetter and only backing out of the drive once he could see the light spilling from your living room as you walked into your apartment.

Any plans he’d thought of having for the following day were forgotten as he decides that pancakes sound perfect for tomorrow’s breakfast.

“Good morning and welcome to Cecil’s, I’ll be your waitress today.” It was early, the gray of the sky muddling into the blue of early dawn, but you were wide awake, the smile on your face genuine as you greeted the third table of the morning.

“I was in green all day.” Jackson is already hard at work on his newest masterpiece, the blue crayon running against the paper to fill the sky like he was in a race against time to complete it.

You glanced at his grandmother for context and she explains that they had a chart for behavior, green was good, yellow was for needing a little extra direction, and red meant they'd been having a hard day.

“Well it sounds like you’ve earned yourself a treat, I'll be sure to tell our cook to make your pancakes extra special. After all, it's not often we get someone who managed to stay in green all day.” The boy beams at you, obviously enjoying the praise and the promise of an extra special breakfast for his good behavior at the daycare. He’d always been a good kid, and you were happy to celebrate that, but you were especially proud at how he’d been so excited to tell you about his accomplishments.

Helen grabs you the moment you put his order in with Sabino. “I’ve got another one for you, honey, Chelsea’s running late again.” The pause and pointed look before she said again was telling. Chelsea being on time was more unlikely than snow in December, but at least she always showed.

You could just make out the mess of blonde curls over the high back of the booth, styled to perfection but made to look effortlessly natural. “Welcome to Cecil’s, I’ll be your waitress this morning. Can I get you started with some coffee?”

Billy looked at ease, he almost always did, one arm tossed over the back of the booth and a bored look on his face. His jaw is tense, a nervous tick he remedied by placing an unlit cigarette between his lips.

The filter between his lips being crushed when he offered a tight lipped nod and slid the still upside down ceramic cup to you.

He could swear the sun broke through the clouds at the same time you smile, maybe even believes it only had because you did if it hadn’t been so embarrassing, dusting the gray expanse with gold to match the warmth of your grin as you rattled off the specials of the day even though you both knew he was getting the peanut butter banana nut pancake stack you’d promised at the movies.

Your pencil, a stumpy little thing just barely long enough for you to hold, had been scribbling on the notepad you carried in your apron, writing an order down he hadn't placed before you had even finished telling him about the soup of the day. “I’ll be right back with your food, Billy.”

Wafts of smoke start to lazily float up the moment you walk away, twirling in wispy gray lines before dissipating into the air. Billy isn’t sure if it’s the rush of nicotine or the comfort of routine but he can feel his muscles losing the tension he hadn’t realized they’d been holding since he walked into the diner, the simple act of doing so being a submission on his end. With all of your prior meetings being on his terms and in his places of comfort walking into a place that was so inanely you felt almost vulnerable.

Less than ten minutes had passed when you were back at his booth with a plate stacked high in one hand and a steaming mug in the other one, the look on your face is all too pleased as you set down a mountain of banana nut pancakes smothered in peanut butter and drowned in syrup. The sight of it alone is enough to make Billy’s teeth ache.

“I brought you some cocoa too.” The mug you hand to him was full to the brim almost to the point of overflowing and topped with a more than generous handful of mini marshmallows the top of which were sprinkled in cinnamon.

Exactly the way he’d taken it since you were both small and had spent your first holiday season together.

The house smelled of chocolate melting into perfectly buttery cookies, splashes of vanilla and sugar settling the house into a holiday haze. On the couch next to you Billy was curled up into himself, half of the blanket you were under was draped over him as you both nursed the cups of cocoa his mom had made you while you attempted to warm up from the day you’d spent playing outside.

On the tv a year without Santa was playing and Billy’s mom sang along to the tune of Heat Miser’s song, your own mother alongside her working on cookies for when Santa made his way here the following morning.

Billy’s attention is ripped away from the screen when he hears your mom calling a name, a name he doesn’t know, and you hop off the couch with your cocoa still in hand to go help her with the cookies.

“Your name isn’t Honey?” The revelation was clearly a shock, his eyes were large, comically so as he repeated the name to himself, your actual name feeling weird and clunky on his tongue after having known you as Honey for the past three months at school.

“You thought my name was Honey?” Billy could feel his face burn at the giggles that caused, both yourself and the two moms in the kitchen cooing over the fact that he’d been calling you Honey this whole time.

“That’s what the teacher always calls you.” He could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping past his face to his ears.

“That’s silly, Billy, that’s just a nickname.”

“Yeah, well…I like that name better.” He took a hasty swallow of cocoa to cover his blunder and coughed as it went down the wrong pipe, the whole ordeal only bringing more attention to him.

“That’s ok, you can call me Honey.”

“Thanks Princess.”

“I'll be back in a bit to see how you’re enjoying the food.” Not if he was enjoying the food, just how he was enjoying it. Billy had been known, by those close to him, to have a notoriously big sweet tooth, he’d done well to reign it in, instead focusing on working out and keeping in shape but he’d never been able to say no to baked goods especially if it was you who was offering them.

When you make your way back around to him, coffee pot in hand to refill his cup, he’d already polished off the cocoa and a third of the pancakes.

“How’s the food?” You spare a cautious glance around to the other diners to assure they were all content before setting the pot onto the table and sliding into the seat opposite him, the worn leather making you scoot more than glide across the bench seating to be directly across from him.

You’d asked him right as he’d taken a bite of his pancakes and he did his best to say it was delicious around the mouth full of sticky cakes which only earned a laugh from you and a glare from him.

“Are you on break?” Billy takes a quick sip of the too hot coffee to help clear the food in his mouth so he could talk to you.

“Not for another few hours but I’ve checked all my tables and can spare a few minutes.” Your hand reaches across the table to steal his fork and uses it to cut a chunk of his pancakes that you steal a bite of. “We really do have the best pancakes.”

“Do you always steal your customers' food?”

“Only the ones I really like.” It was an old game between you two, shared food, stolen food, some days he’d steal your cherries and you’d take his pickles anytime his food came with them. Seeing you slip into your old role so easily brings a smile to his face.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” It slips out before he’d wanted it too, the words leaving his mouth before they get a chance to fully form in his head. He’d been wanting to ask you,in a far less crass and direct way but the question lingered in the air unable to be taken back.

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah princess, a date.” It was already out there so he doubles down, layering his voice with that thick charm that he’d practiced, and perfected, over the years. Leaning in, Billy let the knuckles of his right hand brush against the top of your folded hands that were resting flat on the table, you were soft against his own battle scarred skin.

“Sure Billy, I’d love to.” It was a fast answer, instant really, an eager response and the matching grin you held on your face has him retracting his hands back to his own side, both of them landing in his lap before they slid down to his knees so he’d have a place to rest them. What did he normally do with his hands after someone had said yes? “I'm free. Friday night.”

You weren’t but nothing worth doing was going to be happening on a Wednesday evening and trading a shift to soothe the fluttering in your stomach that had been building since your first run in in the diner parking lot seemed worth it.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Are you just going to wait by the window?” You’d been hovering in Lisa’s peripheral for the last ten or so minutes, alternating between checking the window by the door and double - then triple checking that you still looked ok in the little circular mirror that was older than you were that was pinned to the wall. “You’re going to pace a hole into our carpet.”

“It’s been awhile.”

“That you’ve been on a date or that you’ve been with Billy?” You held her full attention now, Lisa’s body twisted on the couch so she could rest her torso on the arm rest and watch you with an amused gaze. The name ‘Billy’ came out in a lilting way telling you she already knew the answer to your question.

“I’ve missed him, y’know?” You wouldn’t say a piece of you had been missing, but his absence had been felt. It was felt in the way you’d hear a car peeling down the street and your head would still turn, always expecting to see the blue build of his Camaro and to this day you still get an extra cherry on your milkshakes because he’d always stolen the one off of yours for years. Having him gone was like losing your favorite sweater or chapstick, you know it’s gone yet you still find yourself searching for its comfort.

Lisa’s eyes study your face for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time but in reality had only been a few seconds before she turns back around on the couch sliding down into the divet she’d made to continue watching whatever had been holding her interest before. “Make sure he has you home before midnight.”

This time when you heard the roar of an engine pulling into the spot in front of your apartment you know that as soon as that door opened you’d find the perfectly polished metal of Billy’s 1979 Chevy and Billy himself on the other side waiting for you.

You can smell it the moment you’d climb into his car, a warm, greasy, salty scent that makes your mouth water filling the air. Nestled between your two seats you could see a white bag, still warm enough you could feel the heat radiating from it, with bold red lettering and the paper turning translucent from the grease seeping through it from the fast food inside. “I haven’t had this in years.”

Billy had his foot on the gas the moment your seatbelt clicked into place, the music turning up as he turned onto the street and began to drive you towards the edge of town.This time settling into the passenger seat felt right, like sliding on your favorite sweater that you’d worn over in time, like it was your seat again.

Small talk fills the short ride, your excitement over him being there and his slanted half smile coming easily, like no time had ever been spent apart, your comments being met with sarcastic banter and teasing remarks. The drive ended up going quickly and finishes with him pulling into the empty parking lot of a park you’d often pass by while running errands, the dark stretch of playground and grassy fields being illuminated by the pale moon overhead and the filtered yellow of the lampposts littered around the area.

The two of you sit on the play area, bypassing the splintering picnic tables to sit on the faded black plastic of the swings, the chains digging into the meat of your palms as you held onto them to help keep you in place while your legs folded in and out to get just enough momentum going for a light swing.

“This seemed so much bigger when we were younger.” You can still see his blonde curls leading the way around the playground, frizzy from playing in the hot summer sun, and still hear his voice excitedly telling you about the seven foot wave his mom had let him surf on his own over summer break.

Beside you the paper bag crinkles as Billy digs out the food he’d gotten for your date and you’re handed two tacos and a large curly fry. “Haven’t had this since junior year, there’s nothing in that shithole but cows and corn.”

“You still remember my order.” The swing drags to a stop when you push your heels into the soil and wood chips below, two deep divots forming in the material at the base of your heels as your movements halted.

You go for the curly fries first and the memories of lunch runs and late night drives hits you before the salt registers on your tongue, the way he’d always grumble about crumbs in his car negated by the salty treats he always seemed to have around for you.

Billy had always been unapologetically himself but it was only when you’d begun reminiscing on both your shared past and the years apart did you truly get to see him as he’d been in your memories, eyes bright and that deep hearty laugh of his twisting your stomach in knots that only his smile eases.

The rest of the night passes like that, stories shared between bites of food, jokes that weren’t nearly as funny as the way you two were laughing at them made them out to be and every so often his knuckles brush against your own as the swings sway with your movements. You stay in the park until what you could only guess was well past the curfew Lisa had given you, the cars having long since cleared the road.

It wasn’t until his car pulls into your parking lot that he kisses you, there was lull in conversation as you sat in the passenger seat with neither of you in a rush for the night to truly be over. You’d just finished telling him a story about graduation and how Sid and Wayne had almost made you miss your turn to walk and you have the biggest smile on your face.

You were always smiling, sure in him as a person in a way it took life-altering events for him to be in himself, even now as his fingers hesitated moving gently against the swell of your cheek. He’d been good at this before, it came naturally to him; a flash of a smile, a compliment here, a light touch there and whoever he was with was putty.

When his lips brushed against yours it was light, a soft glide of his lips that made your lips tingle. The initial kiss was enough to make him hungry for more, his own slightly chapped lips pressing against your own more eagerly, the hand that was just barely ghosting against your skin now cradled your face, holding it firmly to keep you in place as his lips moved against your own. The kiss had a sense of urgency to it, longing and needy but with no end goal in mind, he took and you were happy to give.

You couldn’t be sure how long it lasted,was it a long kiss? Short? Time had slipped away, moving around the two of you, just for this one moment, the moment everyone but the two of you had seen coming since fall of ‘72 when you’d intertwined your little hands for the first time and instantly bonded.

Billy broke away first, his lips kiss swollen and slick, but he remained close, his half lidded eyes, normally so icy and sharp had warmed to a softer shade of blue as they stayed level with your own, drinking in your own dazed but entirely pleased expression and only darting down to watch the way you bit the corner of your lip, chewing on it with a giddy smile.

“Wow.” He couldn’t help but snort a laugh at that, your genuine response simple but so endearing, that same sunshine bright smile on your face as he laughed at your awe-struck answer to your very first kiss together.

“Wow?” He was sure you would be able to warm up even the dreariest of Hawkins winters with the way you were looking at him, eye bright and taking him in like he was the one who could thaw a cold Midwest January day with just a look.

“I’ve been hoping you’d do that since you drove me home back in August.” There was a breathlessness to your voice with the kiss itself not being too heated, but the thrill of how perfect it felt to have him mould against you stealing the air from your lungs all the same.

You would have stayed there all night if you hadn’t had a shift the following morning but the late hour didn't stop you from stealing one more quick kiss before bidding him good night.

“I’ll see you in the morning Honey.” This time as you climb out of the car and he promises to see you the following morning you know he’ll be there.

Special thanks to so many people first @jo-harrington who is the reason I wrote this. @the-unforgivenn who has read this enough times im sure she could recite it by memory. @ghost-proofbaby @hellfire--cult (who also made the amazing banner and divider) @munson-blurbs @dr-aculaaa who all helped plot and cheer me on every step of the way. I’m so appreciative of you all 💕

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #i honestly consider this my first full real fic #i hope you guys like it

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tinkerbelle05 · 1 year

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Single parent Bruce Wayne batkids being protective and (healthy) possessive over Bruce?? Batkids who have differing opinions on who Bruce should date?? Yes, yes, yes!!

I imagined that the kids are pretty used to Bruce going on dates as Brucie Wayne, to keep up the playboy persona. All of them have worried about varying degrees. Some took the time to do background checks on the person he was going out with and others decided to spy on them.

Hell, they would’ve been doing just that if Alfred hadn’t stopped them. Said something about how Bruce is an adult who can make his own decisions. They all knew the butler was lying through his teeth.

But they were all comforted by the fact that Bruce didn't have any feelings. That most likely, there would be no second dates with that person, they would fade into the faceless void that was the Gotham elite.

That assurance wrapped them up in a blanket when Bruce was out later than he was supposed to. When he came back happy and giggling rather than the usual indifference or just exhaustion.

“This is weird, right?” Duke questioned one day. They were all in the kitchen waiting for brownies that Jason was stress baking them.

“What is?” Jason asked-mumbled as he was setting the timer.

There was a definite tension in the air around them. For a full house of people, it was quiet. Just the sound of mindlessly scrolling on the phone and Jason’s baking filled it. The silence lingered either way.

“That we have this protectiveness of Bruce,” he explained. “Like he goes out for a ‘date’ and look at us. All nervous and fidgety. I mean, it’s been an hour and no arguments between Tim and Dami.”

No one had an answer for that. It was one of those that were complicated and simple all at once. Bruce was a person with feelings even though he tries to hide them, they are present. They exist. And he breaks, easy and often. And shouldn’t that be reason enough? Because he’s a person who has so much love to give but has been burned too many times.

But continues to love either way.

“Because he’s our dad and no one’s ever gonna be good enough for him, duh.” Jason answers, unfiltered and blunt. He was the most vocal in opposition to these dates in the first place, or Bruce going on dates in general.

“But it's all fake though? We all know that for him it might as well be another business meeting.”

Jason opened his mouth to respond when Bruce walked in, and as usual he was bombarded with a million questions. Duke’s question was forgotten by all of them.

“Where did you go?”

“What did you do?”

“Who was it?”

“How was it?”

“Guys, guys, calm down,” Bruce chuckles, “I just got into the house. Let me settle in first.” There was a faint redness of his cheeks, a glint in his eyes.

That only suggest trouble.

“And also, my date isn’t the type of person you guys are thinking of,” he starts off, walking towards the den. His kids follow him like little ducklings following their mother. “It was Harvey Dent “

“The fucking D.A?! Two Face??” Jason yells, alarmed. Harvey Dent wasn't the type to have fake dates with people.

“It was a real date,” Bruce admits to them. He gets comfortable on the couch and all of his kids surround him, preparing to latch on to every word. “Only Alfred knew about it because we know how you kids can get. I really like him, and I know that you have your suspicions, especially about him. So, please?”

“No!” Jason said, a frown on his face and his arms crossed. “I don’t like him, I don’t trust him, and he isn’t good enough.”

“Jay-“

“I agree with Todd, Father,” Damian cuts in. “My mother is a more suitable choice if we’re being honest.”

“Eh, if we are actually being honest, it’d be Superman.”

“Superman?!” Jason questions with disgust written all over his face. “Dickface, I know you have some hero worship going on with him, but that's the most basic of basic.”

“Plus, it’d be weird if I was dating my Dad’s boyfriend’s son,” Tim added.

“For once, Drake is correct. Neither Dent nor the alien is the correct choice for Father. Like I-”

“No, little brother,” Cass said.

“Yea, I agree with Cass here, Dames. I just don't see it working out with those two,” Duke agreed.

The argument continued well into the night and in true Wayne fashion, it in a debate style with well-thought powerpoints and some insults thrown in of course. No one had any agreement on who deserved their father.

“Um, do I get to make a decision on this?” Bruce asked in the middle of a laughing fit. It was nice to have the house full with people and laughter.

All of them looked at him with a blank stare and responded with a swift “No”.

#bruce wayne #jason todd #batfam #dick grayson #dc comics #soft bruce wayne #cassandra wayne #duke thomas #tim drake #bruharvey #damian wayne #single parent bruce wayne #batman fluff #batman #batfamily

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otakuworks · 1 year

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❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au

feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | FINALE | wc. 5.1K

Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' | overview. this webtoon follows the story of a woman who somehow can remember all her past lives.

sum. there's always a factor chaining you from falling in love, usually you can never be bothered, but with Zhongli in your life you may have to pin down the source of your hesitation and possibly unlock new secrets from the consultant

cw. spoilers for the recent 3.4 update and intended inaccuracy of the lore

note. tumblr is so high it auto posted this on January💀💀

main m.list genshin.mlist

PART I < PART II < PART III (finale)

Strange, Zhongli really is the epitome of an oddity. You don't know if he was previously a magician or he simply knows how to make Mora appear out of thin air. Either way, you get freebie whenever he accompanies you in your untimely stroll

Though every freebie means a reward for saving his ass from getting scammed. The amount of times he hands off Mora to a person, who clearly has insidious motives, without second thought pales in comparison to the age of the late Archon.

You thought being friends with Hu Tao has taught him something, but clearly he's an airhead at heart when it comes to money.

Then came a particular day when you and Zhongli stroll in the streets of Liyue, you both passby a travelling storyteller who's halfway of retelling the tale of the lone warrior who sacrificed their life to save a Goddess.

". . .they were heavily guarded and fought neither for the Seven Seats nor to survive. Lady Guizhong also wrote in her tale that they were buried somewhere in the Guili Plains to commemorate the Lone Warrior's good deeds."

Eons of living can grant you insurmountable patience and restraint from spitting unfiltered comments that a person may take umbrage, you thoroughly believed you've mastered those skills long ago, if you slip a crack then you'd almost be an oxymoron.

"Bullcrap."

. . .You are a moron, after all.

You gained an immediate reaction from the consultant beside you who perched an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued.

You cough between your fist, "I don't intend to vilify Liyue's folklore, but that was straight up flawed."

Coming out as a bumptious person is the last thing you want now that you've gotten a new ally, but they were talking about you, more precisely about your past life as a swordsman.

Who knows someone better than themselves? And for Achon's sake why do they have to dub you as the Lone Warrior? Ugh, now you can sympathize what Diluc feels being called Darknight Hero. Yes, you know about his alter ego, can't fool a master disguiser.

"Why do you believe otherwise?"

"Huh?" When you gaze up at him, you saw the same intensity in his eyes when you first met him as he reiterated the question.

"O-Oh. . . sorry, I just didn't expect you to be open-minded when I literally called a famous Liyue story bullcrap."

The corners of his lips tugged up in a curious smile, "Let's assume we share the same thoughts, and I want to hear yours."

You didn't understand what he meant but his compelling voice made you speak your innermost knowledge of history without a shred of a doubt, "Most content of the tale is accurate since it was written by the Goddess herself, from the description of their appearance, their background, and deeds before the spark of the Archon war, it's all veridical. However, the part where the Warrior is buried somewhere in the Guili Plains is what makes it erroneous."

"How so?" Zhongli queried almost immediately when you paused for a second to construct the proper words without offending the anyone who opposed your opinions.

"First and foremost, the Lone Warrior was never buried in the first place, for their body was nowhere to be found amongst the corpse of the warpath. Instead of saying they were buried, Lady Guizhong built a stone slab in the Guili Plains to commemorate the Warrior however, due to the circumstances of the Karmic Dept, the slab is most likely destroyed from the uncontrolled rampage of a Yaksha."

As far as you can reckon, the Yaksha who destroyed the slab must have died feeling guilty for eradicating the one memoir of the Lone Warrior. At that time, it was all a speculation from you who knows what the Yaksha must be feeling, but now all of it don't matter.

Saving Guizhong is a choice you've never regretted, Morax felt happy and contented in her presence, it's enough to suffice everything. A simple stone slab won't change your standpoint, even without one you'd gladly do it for the second time.

"What about you, Zhongli? You said we. . ."

Your voice slowly fades away with the wind to carry out amongst the trees and may Barbatos hears this conversation to let him know he had found his Y/N.

He had always imagine what sort of interaction happens between two bards, given the fact you've once told him you play the lyre when you were a child, he's eager to see you in action.

"Hmm, as I thought, we do share commonity in the matter."

That piqued your interest, "Pray tell."

You've never met anyone who's well versed in history like you do.

"I also believe the Lone Warrior never had their deserved burial, but Guizhong made it possible to tell the tale of the mortal who made saved her life. While I personally think they're righteous, it still baffles me why would they sacrifice themselves for someone they're not well acquainted with."

You awkwardly laugh at his astute observation, feeling the perspiration forming on your forehead. Historians often ask the same inquiry; why did they save Guizhong? The tale itself didn't hold any answer for that, and a handful of Liyue citizens doubt the honor of the Lone Warrior because of this— Zhongli is one of them.

"Regardless of their intention, the Lone Warrior has my respect, for their sacrifice has led for another woman's salvation, it is nothing to be easily disregarded." Zhongli added, taking a few steps ahead.

"I've noticed how you accolade the people of the past, especially their noble hearts and their contribution to Liyue. It almost sounds like it's what you do to your. . . umm, deceased loved ones."

His eyes bleaked, for a moment you thought you crossed a line, but he spoke in a solemn voice, "I have actually, I've lost so many good people over the years, but I've learned to move on and look back in the past with a smile."

Yeah, you definitely crossed a line just there.

Your eyes find purchase on your shoes, "You're a strong man, Zhongli. I can only imagine how you managed to do that. Is that one of the factors you decided to become a consultant?"

He seemed to hesitate to answer, as if contemplating his thoughts first, ". . .I wouldn't say it's a defining factor, but yes."

"Do you ever look back to your loved ones without. . . hurting as much as it did on the first time?"

"It's a good thing to remember someone who meant a lot to you, but if the memory of that person is making you suffer, you need to let them go. You might feel guilty at first, but after a while you'll be able to think of them again without hurting nor feeling guilty."

Just then, a fierce wind struck and swept through their bodies. The dry leaves that hung from the branches rustled loudly as moonlight illuminated. Zhongli, who silently looked towards the clamoring branches, murmured in a low voice only for your ears.

"Do not rush yourself to move on, everyone has different pace. It might take you years or decades, even centuries and I'll still be with you, so do not worry about going through this alone."

Did you hear that? It's the sound of your heart thundering.

Before you know it, you were giggling to yourself.

Your laughter bubbles up from between your lips like a clear spring, unrestrained peals of genuine amusement. The sound is so mellifluous, he almost can’t find it in him to comprehend that it came at his expense. It makes him feel special.

"It makes me think how old you really are, you sound like you've been living for thousands of years." You jested. "You're not wrong." He promptly followed. What...? That must've been a joke, eh?

"You sure do know how to do your job. I felt better after hearing that. Thank you, Zhongli."

One moment you were facing him, the next you're suddenly squashed against his chest as he cages you in his arms protectively. Not a good position to be in when your heart began to pump rapidly as his scent rubbed on you.

You were about to ask him what was the matter when you heard an audible and heavy thump behind you followed by a burst of the Geo element. Zhongli looked down on you.

"I apologize for my action, but your life was on the line, so I acted out of instinct." Yet he doesn't make any indication to let you go any time sooner, his hold on you only tightens.

You hid your flushed cheeks by coughing, "I'm not made out of glass, I can handle myself perfectly fine." Yet you didn't move from where you are and held onto his clothes.

"Correct, a few slimes are no big deal, but I can't take any compromises when it's comes to you, Y/N."

"I-If you have time to flirt then just get on with the slimes." You demanded with a huff. You should've seen how he had looked like a lost puppy, "But I wasn't flirting with you, I'm merely expressing my thoughts regarding about you."

"That's even worse!" You exclaim, having no courage to look at him.

That night felt like some distant memory, some dream too far for him to grasp. He thought of your eyes, shimmering in the light of the moon, of your laugh, loud and joyous.

He could picture you perfectly, the warm orange of the lanterns lighting half of your face while the cool light of the moon illuminating the other side.

And it's not a secret he's enamored with you. Even Xiao can deduce the subtle smile everytime your name is mentioned. He hasn't seen an ardor look on him for hundreds of years, it felt anomalous to see him blush like a teenager.

The Traveler and the floating emergency food didn't seem to mind the two, but Paimon has been really curious about it.

If Zhongli likes you then can't he just straight up confess that in your face? Life would've been so simple if people are straightforward🙄

Rough representation;

There's no concrete answer for it yet, liking Zhongli more than what you two are amidst the process of your healing would seem like he's taken you out of pity.

You don't want that type of relationship. You opt to sort yourself before consulting your mixed feelings you have with the consultant.

And by that literally means;

"You want to accompany the traveler in Jueyun Karst?" You responded with a resigned sigh.

Each day spent with him only shows a fraction of how ridiculous you probably sound to a youthful man.

Everyone in Liyue knows no mortal can get in Jueyun Karst, even if they did there would be no merit to achieve unless you're seeking for a beautiful view of the clouds.

"Yes, the adepti Ganyu had gone missing for days, the traveler asked me if I know the shortest way to Jueyun Karst, and I proposed to be their guide."

Lies.

The traveler is capable of navigating their way to Jueyun Karst.

In fact, they already left this morning and it's noon as you speak.

You only used that excuse to skedaddle your way out of the dilemma you got yourself into. You need the cortisol to die down. And that won't happen if the said dilemma is with you (e.t. Zhongli)

"Hmm. . . so, you've been in Liyue before yet you still accepted my offer to give you a tour." His statement gives off an accusatory tone, but his lopsided grin tells you otherwise.

You shot him a sheepish smile. "How can I let the opportunity of conversing with a handsome man go to waste? There's a reason why I'm an adventurer, Zhongli."

He shakes his head, "How long you'll be away?"

"Not that long, I'd say only a few hours. Why? Are you going to miss me?"

You only meant it as a joke, you didn't think he'd take it seriously.

"Yes."

You see, this is the reason why you want to avoid him.

Hah! In the end, you found yourself winded up somewhere in Yujing Terrace. You heard Glaze Lillies bloom in this area, it reminded you of My. Tianheng where a field of Glaze Lillies can be found everywhere.

"Another flower is blooming, such a beautiful sight, if only life can be as beautiful as these Glaze Lillies." You nearly yelp at the sudden voice speaking near your ear and reeled back.

"Oh, dear. I'm sorry if I had scared you." An aged lady with her gray hair tucked in a low bun spoke. "I'm fine. . ."

"Call me Madame Ping. You look quite familiar to me, child. Are you perhaps the adventurer the Wangsheng consultant was talking about?" You crane your neck at her question.

"U-Uh. . . if you're talking about Y/N L/N then yes, that would be me. May I ask what made you so certain it's me?"

"Ah! He hasn't stopped talking about you since he visited this place. That man is so stoic looking, but when he hears your name it looks like he's a different man all of a sudden."

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply through your nose in any attempt to bring your nerves down. You had heard those words on multiple occasions— that Zhongli was different around you, that he cared for you like he cared for no one else. There had been a few times where that statement rang true. Some that don't.

Zhongli felt like a breath of fresh air, a sunshine on a cloudy day, a tall mountain summit from afar. You loved the way he listens to your beliefs, you loved the way he trusts you with his secrets and experiences, you loved the way he deeply cares to others, you love the way he seemed to brighten up every room he walked into.

Goddamn you love everything about that man!

Even his stupidity to pecuniary is lovable.

Somehow he managed to bring joy to the same place you always associated with agony— every corner of the place was happier with him around.

It's no wonder you feel something that can only be named as infatuation— a feeling you once harbored towards Morax, but failed to realize it until your death.

But that had been so long ago, back when you were a little kid determined to become an adult. Now you're an adventurer with a thousand adventures under your belt. Now you were strong and experienced and prepared. And yet, you're still hesitating. Why?

"What seems to cause your inner turmoil, child?"

Your breath hitched and your intake became shallow, it feels like being reborn again. An advantageous thing about reincarnation is that you get to experience love in many forms, mainly familial love.

It was your gateway from the gripping anxiety you feel whenever you overhear hearsay in your town about Morax.

But not once did a family ever asked you for your problems, it's not their fault being unaware of your curse and if they did ask you would've probably non the wiser— it was because they don't share the same sentiment having to live for thousand years.

With Madame Ping, you feel so inclined to relay your thoughts as if you're indeed a child ranting problems with your mom, something about her just puts your mind at ease. And you only just met her not too long ago.

You took a deep breath and tore your gaze from the Glaze Lillies, "There's this man that I fostered feelings for, since I started liking him. . . I always felt like I'm standing over burning charcoal. Do you know what that feels like? Not being able to stop my feet from moving even for a moment. I can't run. I want to, but there's something holding me back."

"Hmm, that sounds too complex," she sighs, "then again, being young has many complexities just as we adults have. With the way you're describing it, I won't say it's holding you back, child."

You lifted your gaze at her, confusion now painted your features.

"If I were to put it, you're simply tangled up in your past."

"W-What—"

"And you need closure if you want to face your feelings head on."

A closure? Is that what I'm missing? Should I vent my pent up feelings? Ugh. . . Will that really help?

Sensing your dubious demeanor, Madame Ping smiled, "You do not need to heed my words. I'm simply offering a suggestion."

"No, I'll consider it. In fact, I think it's the best course to deal with this. Thank you, Madame Ping!"

And so you dash from the place in search of something.

You run pass the vast greenery of viridescent grasses and colorful wildflowers— a meadow, where you'd usually go for meandering while accompanied by the evening breeze or gilding sunlight. It was perfect setting of tranquility for a maladaptive daydreamer like yourself. You'd imagine yourself laying down and naming the constellations that coincidentally appear in the sky, or count the exotic birds that flew by, or hum a tune that's been lost in history.

Looking at you now versus your past self equates for hypocrisy.

An amalgamation of both morose and agitated countenance now marred your features. Any person who sees you would imagine how tumultuous your life has been, it's nowhere near nirvana.

Trembling as you arrived at your destination, you stand in front of Morax's statue and traces the meticulous handwork with the pads of your fingers. The entire place feels like him, as though you’re with him at arms reach, but too far to actually hold him.

"It's really pathetic how I try so hard to move on, only to come back to you when something is amiss in my life," you murmured, "but I'm not here to endlessly whine about every misfortune in life, I want to release this feeling in order for me to be appeased."

You heaved a deep breath.

"I love you, Morax. I still do. No amount of flowery apologies can fix the damage I made for stalling my confession to you. I was young and had a plethora of uncertainties that made me second-guess myself. I guess. . . the guilt of leaving you pushed me to the brink of watching over you throughout my consecutive reincarnations, I wanted to make sure you were happy. And now, I want to be happy too. I feel happy with Zhongli and I don't want to make the same mistake of hesitating then later regret on it."

Some days your sadness was a mild lisp. It barely scratched the surface of your voice, but today melancholy had waged a full scale assault on your vocal chords.

"I've decided I'll confess to him, not today, I still need to build the courage to face him. I'm thankful for the time we spent our earliest days together, truly I am, but it's time for me to move on. One day I will look back on our childhood and say 'I love you' once more without the lingering ache in my heart. I'll never stop coming back to you, Morax. . . so, instead of bidding farewell, I'll see you later."

It felt good to vent your feelings out that you nearly cried that day as you walk back in Wangshu Inn and now you're ready to confess your feelings to the consultant whenever you're ready. And whether he'll accept it or not is entirely up to him.

"Are you free this , Y/N?" A strange look obscured the consultant's face, what's even more strange is the fact he's not even looking you directly.

"Yes. . .?" Something tells you he's not in a good mood.

Crap. . . someone give him Mora! ASAP!

"I wish to speak with you alone. Will you come with me in Mt. Tianheng?" Asked the consultant who seemed a bit on edge this evening after you came back. His spurious stone cold expression obnubilated akin to the look of a man who's gearing up for war.

His ominous mien warranted your logic to say no to him, but you're too far on the line of sanity to even refuse the man you like. "Sure."

>> TIMESKIP. . .

You thought not confessing early to Morax before your death was the worst decision you've ever made. Think again, 'cuz this is most definitely the worst, baddest and stupidest decision ever.

You never made it a point to come back to this place— it brought back a storm of memories, some of which were more comfortable being shoved to the recesses of your mind and be kept there for eternity. But for whatever reason, you feel inclined to follow him and disregard the uneasiness of returning in Mt. Tianheng.

Zhongli has been strangely quiet all the way here, at this point he'd be randomly stating facts, not be a complete mute-walking pillar.

Thus, you suck up your inner turmoil and deal with it instead of fleeing right off the bat.

"You're strong for keeping your head up this far." He accolades suddenly to particularly no one, except if he was referring to you.

"Me?"

He comes to an abrupt stop and finally, FINALLY faces you. And shit do his visage screams he's not playing around. He's not here to be buddy-buddy with you. He looks genuinely distress.

About what though?

. . .

. . . . .

. . . . . . .

Oh. . .

Oh no!

Did he see through your lies earlier? That you're supposed to be with the traveler in Jueyun Karst? Double shit! Not good!

A thin sheen of sweat accumulated on your forehead as you try to come up with an excuse, "U-Uh. . ." but came up with nothing.

You mentally prepared yourself for a parade of admonishing words from Zhongli, you genuinely thought he's going to nitpick on why you shouldn't have lied to him and probably question the motives behind your action. At least that's what you thought.

"This guilt is unbearable even for an immortal."

"Yes, I know I lied about going with the traveler in—. . . Huh?"

What?

His eyes seemed to shine brighter than the stars as he stares deeply into yours. You sense an underlying promise in those determined orbs, it instilled the feeling of anticipation and anxiety.

"I am Morax."

The air suddenly became suffocating for YOU. Breathing gets hard. There’s this feeling in your chest that’s gnawing through your body, affecting your every movement.

Conflagrated flames and scalding ice, the physical feeling tied up in all the emotions that seem to leak from ZHONGLI'S features— fear, hope and adoration churned his guts.

An unkempt strand of your hair overshadowed your eyes from Zhongli's standpoint. It seems as though he made the decision that'll compromise the friendship he had built with you.

Being the bearer of the knowledge of your reincarnation didn't come easy for an immortal who's supposed to be imposing as a mortal.

Ever since he saw you paying respect for his passing, his instinct is blaring at him to tell you his true identity. Though he has to admit it's not entirely his gut-feel that added a major factor of what he had done now— it was his selfishness, yet again.

He had gone through multiple scenarios of what your reaction may be; Would you laugh at his face? Are you going to dismiss his claims and think it's a prank? Will you run away from him?

Not like it matters to him.

You can do all of those and he'd still want to be with you.

Heck! He knew you were telling a fib about your involvement in the Traveler's quest and it didn't change his feelings for you.

". . ."

As crickets filled his ears, he takes a feeble step forward and spoke in a solemm voice, "You must have a lot of questions, I can guarantee to answer all of them but know that it was never my intention to prolong your suffering by hiding my identity."

He knows.

He GODDAMN knows!

Your words broke up and all you could mutter were stuttering sounds. Hot tears streamed down your face, and squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the tears would stop. Your choppy breathing and watery eyes remained for quite some time as stand there unmoving. What else is there to say?

Before you know it, both of your shoulders were grasped in a firm but gentle grip of gloved hands. There's so many mixed feelings stirring in a boiling pot, and you can't make out a definite conclusion until you arrive in some sort of resulting point.

Are you angry for his decision to play dead? Betrayed he kept this from you? Pained that he didn't trust you? Relieved that he's really alive in the flesh? Happy that he knows it's you and you don't have to pretend around him? Which is it?

Amidst all the chaotic thoughts, you still feel safe in the presence of Zhongli— Yes, Zhongli. You hate how it feels so warm, you hate how you want to bask in his embrace, you hate the solace you find yourself in when he's around even in your worst time. Just then, similarly back in Inazuma, the sky shed tears to empathize your mourning heart. The heavens really find your suffering amusing.

In your haze vision, he was moving his lips but the words fell on deaf ears, your sense of hearing refuse to comprehend the meaning behind his statement. It's probably for the best.

Zhongli, the ever so keen who promptly took notice, snaked his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in a somber embrace and gently placed your head in his chest— an act of shielding you from the dangers of the world and offers you a safe haven.

The veil dropped and walls crumbled.

Your feeble hands grasped his flaunting waistcoat like a helping hand. Your scream synchronises with the thundering and the minimum space between you muffled the cries. Your undecipherable emotions echoes with the storm like a reflection on the mirror.

And everything leads to the man desperately clinging to your bare fingers on the cliffside of a bottomless pit you dug yourself into.

"Look at me."

Compelled to do so, you lifted your blurry gaze. A Geo Archon known for his wisdom and strength, is standing in his barest version. The version of a man who weeps only in the presence of whom he loves and trusts.

[ source: Pinterest. please comment if you know the artist so I can credit ]

"Z-Zhongli. . ."

A single index finger met your quivering lips, "Shh. . . The rain isn't stemmed from sadness. So get drenched, and be refreshed. I hope it washes away the hot bitterness felt by your heart. When that hurt washes away, let's return home together."

". . . Together? It sounds surreal. . . I don't want to believe it."

"May I kiss you for proof?"

You're too absorbed in the heat of moment that every rational decision flew out the window, but maybe the most rational thing to do is to indulge yourself.

You nodded, with your permission Zhongli has never been the happiest till this day.

His lips descended on yours with fervor, immediately you can feel his desperation, his love, his determination, his grief— it's overwhelming it almost knocked you on your feet. Quite fortunate he has his hand on your back to keep you steady while the other is on your cheek as he drowns you in his presence.

You feel hot, it's unusual during the rain shower, but the hypnotic intimacy he applies in his action takes your breath away.

Heat pooled in your stomach, the prospect of kissing Zhongli is something you didn't know you'd be craving for more and your heart skipped a few beats.

Your whole body tingled, the feel of his towering frame leaning on you as he encased you in his arms felt like you're ascending to Celestia.

Albeit slowly, you felt yourself gradually being pulled up to the surface accompanied by the hands of your savior.

It still wasn't clear if he's dreaming this moment, but there was raw emotion in the way you weave your fingers through his free tresses and caress his scalp. Zhongli kept his eyes half open, sneaking a guilty glance at you every time he comes back for air to assure himself this isn't a product of his imagination.

He doubts the authenticity of it all. He's not sure if nature rooted for this moment or if Celestia tricked him into this perfect present to appease his guilt, but every passing second makes him want to stay in this illusion and for the first time in eons, he felt like a little dragon discovering new treasures— he discovered you yet again.

Slowly, the pull apart, chest heaving and face flustered.

Zhongli suddenly felt more guilt, he had acted out of the line and kissed without properly courting you, not so gentlemanly. The smile on your face, however, eased the guilt in his heart and subconsciously mirrored your smile, it was simply contagious.

"It's really you, huh? I can't believe I didn't realize it was you." You placed your palm on his cheek as to reassure your sanity, in response he leaned impossibly closer to your hand.

"Words cannot describe how much I want to expose myself to you, and how apologetic I am for staging my death. Had I've been aware of your existence and your knowledge of the past, I would have come up a different solution and not cause you more pain."

Yeah, it really is him. No other man can look after your feelings like he does, and there's no other man lovable as him.

"I really want to ask how did you know, not only of my reincarnation, but also my awareness of my previous life. Is it because you were a former Archon?"

Heaving a deep sigh, he pressed his forehead on yours, his fingers traverse down the corner of your lips until it wipes away from what it looks like the remnants of your tears.

"I don't need to be an Archon to know it's you. Your kindness, compassion and everything beautiful will always attract me no matter what form you may take. No other being can impersonate someone so precious as you, Y/N. It's why I knew it was you the moment you wear your heart on your sleeve."

Times like this always reminds you why you fell for him so hard.

"As for your memories of the past. . . you weren't exactly being cautious of your words when you were speaking to my statue. No normal mortal has ever called me Morax other than you."

Oh. . . you were rather grateful for it.

"So, you're saying I'm not normal to you?"

"Y/N, reincarnating while retaining your memories is not exactly a trait of a standard normal mortal." He does have a point.

"Hey, look. The rain has stopped."

Hands adorned of scars, bruises and wounds that once grasped the pointed end of every sharp edged rocks are now held by the calloused hands of another fighter.

You watch as the lustrous moon rose up the sky, pride was balm from its full fledged form, exuding sufficient fulguration for the inky night and the prodigious number of stars turned into extraordinary bright white hued after the rain. For the first time, the deepest somber night just came out of its humble abode.

He kept his eyes on you and his forehead glued on yours, it looks like he's not planning on letting you go any time sooner, "Indeed, it seems like your heart has eased up too."

"Yes, and I have you thank for that." You gently grabbed the wrist caressing your face and rubbed figures of eight. "Thank you for having the courage of revealing your true self, it have me the right to courage to fess up what's on my mind."

You pulled away from his embrace and took his hand on yours, you can feel his burning eyes fixated on your actions, "I never got the chance to confess everything when I was dying in your arms. I thought it was for the best, but I'll say it now."

Watching you straighten your spine, Zhongli couldn't hide his anticipation. He has vague idea what you mean, but he didn't want to keep his hopes up, so he remained calm and let you continue.

"I love you. Whether you're known as Morax, Rex Lapis, Zhongli or any other names, I'm hopelessly in love with you because to me you're the dragon who kept me safe from the dangers and prioritize me over your own happiness. You're my first friend, my first confidant, my first partner in crime, my first protector, my first crush and most importantly, you're my first love. You're my every first, and you'll be my very last."

Every joyful feeling known to man hit Zhongli like a meteor and he couldn't help himself to claim your lips once again. This time he was more gentler and more on conveying his overjoyed expression. The kiss was brief as he pulled away immediately.

"I have always adored you, Y/N. Your death nor your lack of reciprocation doesn't make my feelings any different. Do you remember the promise I made? I will take you at the highest peak of the sky, I meant it literally that time, I'm more willing to fulfill that promise both literally and figuratively.bI'm grateful to have met you in my life, and I'm more grateful that you feel the same as I do. I will do my best to keep you happy, Y/N."

"Dummy! I should be the one saying that." Your eyes began to feel moisture yet again. "Would you look at us. It took us a couple thousands of years before getting to this point, it's almost laughable and I— ACHOO!"

". . ."

"Let's head back. It almost slip my mind humans are quite fragile even just a few drops of rain, and your drenched clothes are not helping."

"Aren't you the one who told me to get drenched and be refreshed?" You replied sardonically, though the lovesick smile on your face betrays you.

He chuckled, "Let's continue this back home."

Home with him. It sent the elephants stomping in your stomach. Forget the fluttering butterflies!

He intertwined your fingers with his as you both walk back with goofy smiles, "Yeah, let's head home."

An idyllic hilly meadow greeted your sight as you stand tall after an arduous journey. Beside you is the prize worth of every gems in the world. As your blood-soaked hand held his, the two of you embarked a new journey towards tomorrow.

And this this time, you won't be alone. Mazes may seperate you two along the way, you'll always find your way back to each other's arms. A farewell between star crossed lovers doesn't exist, for they will meet later on at the end.

─ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃. werp that will wrap up this series, I'll be working on with all of your requests and if I can insert the Xiao version of this then it's considered lucky. thank you everyone for supporting this fic, for encouraging me to continue more than one part and sharing your thoughts about it. i value comments more than anything so pls tell me what you think, I don't reply to all comments but I read all of them 💙💜

─ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @itsyourgirlria @shizunxie @elsoleil @cherlynono @slzaar @katsuissus @tikitsune @useless-potatho @chimsblogg @lemonlimesocks @multifandomvoyage @malt-rants-and-stuff @jameineliebe @angelkazusstuff @eissaaaa @beezgobuzzbuzz @towos @atsukawolfcat @sunflowers1970 @avery-needs-more-fics @angstylittleb1tch @bigcandlesmolbrain @lxmine @imk1ra @chihawari @bishishbored @yuuki4646 @sunsethw4 @princeabomination @alexiris @chocolateneapolitan @ayra2452008 @ittosoneandoniwife @alatus2716 @thetwinkims @sweetbills @nanami-s-tie @rain-and-a-nice-nap @a-rose-byanothername @swirrley @lasignoramybeloved @magicalnaturenerd @boundedbyfate @extremelytoastybread @vvyeislazzy @dear-dairiess @crowleysthings @imafatpug @tjjjrsj + kokomisimppp alice4wonderland2184 quereespf haru-tofuu vv3ntii and others that I can't tag for sum reason tumblr won't explain •_•

#series finale #zhongli #zhongli fic #zhongli angst #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli fluff #genshin impact angst #see you in my 19th life #webtoon #reborn au #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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