#unrelated but i desperately miss the rain
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Chapter One: The Arrival
The Depths we Devour, a gothic horror detective!joel fic
Summary
Detective Miller arrives at the manor and learns that this case is a lot more complicated that he first thought. A father gone mad, the daughter stuck on the detectives mind.
Word Count: 8.1k
Tags: Joel POV, smoking, alcohol, joel miller is scared of rats, reader is referred to as the girl and she/her, reader has hair that can be braided and reaches her back, reader wears dresses, author! reader, joel miller has inappropriate thoughts about reader, jealous!joel (weak), protective!joel, joel calls reader sweetheart, soft touches. - as always, if i miss any let me know
Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist
The Detective
Day One
3:26pm
The afternoon sky glistens on the wet road, rain pelting on every surface the storm sees beneath it. Poor unfortunate animals scurry through the rattling grass desperate to find shelter from the harsh wind that gusts through the forest floors and the rain that forms small flowing rivers in the mud.
The swift and nimble fox dashes across the road, its feet almost silent upon the hard pavement. The beam of light from oncoming traffic catches its eyes, causing the animal to pause in its erratic travels. It watches in terror as the death-machine races towards it, growing closer with each passing second. The car swerves, tires screeching as they slide on the wet, slick surface.
The fox's movement is sudden and brief, finally spurred into action only as the blaring horn of the car breaks its daze. Within mere seconds, it's back once again hidden from danger, as it sprints into the bushes.
The storm rages on, unrelenting in its intensity. Lightning flashes in the sky, brightening the world for a fraction of a second before fading once again. Thunder rolls across the sky, rumbling through the ground with each booming clap.
And yet, the car keeps moving.
The driver has somewhere to be. Someone to meet. Someone to find.
A crossroad lies ahead, the water having already claimed and devoured a large portion of the path to the left. The detective glances down at his car's navigation system, exhaling in relief as it directs him to take a right-hand turn instead.
He sits hunched over the wheel, a deep frown on his face as he focuses on the road ahead. The rain lashes at the windshield of his car, the windshield wipers working in overdrive to try and clear his line of vision.
The radio sputters, the crackle of static filling his ears. He flinches as his ears are subjected to the harsh sounds, grunting in annoyance at the abuse he's being forced to listen to. He takes a few attempts before managing to find the volume knob, fumbling for it as he continues to focus on the road. Once located, he turns it to zero, taking an audible sigh of relief as the silence returns.
He turns into a driveway, his car following the paved road as it slowly rolls to a stop outside an old manor. The imposing structure stands before him, the ancient architecture a stark contrast to the modern vehicle now resting beside it.
The detective half expects a vampire to turn into a bat and fly into the sky before his eyes. Or an old pipe organ, the deep sound to announce his arrival, like out of one of those old horror movies his daughter liked to watch.
"Fuckin' hell," he mutters under his breath as the building comes into focus. The structure shines even in the dim light, the rain coating the exterior in a thin film of water. The dark grey concrete bricks stand out against the vibrant green surrounding foliage as the water runs down the exterior, dripping from the gutters onto the ground below.
He rummages through the paperwork on the passenger seat, his flask slipping from its spot and hitting the floor with a quiet thunk. He stops in his actions, his hands freezing on the paper as he stares down at the flask. Before he has a chance to reach for it, a loud rumble of thunder shakes the ground beneath the car, a flash of lightning illuminating the interior for just a split second.
He shakes his head, dismissing any thoughts of taking a sip of alcohol from his mind. Taking the printed-out email for the job, he reads over the details once again before exiting the car.
Dear Detective Miller.
I found myself reading an article about you in the paper the other week, the case you solved involving a missing child. The author wrote praises for your efforts, and I unfortunately need your expertise in the dire matter.
My father is a Mycologist, researching and experimenting with all sorts of fungi that peeks his interests. He’s been obsessing over a new discovery in the woods surrounding our manor, gone for days at a time but I’m afraid this is different. No one has heard from him in over a week as I write to you, and I am afraid something has happened to him.
I have contacted the local authorities, but they turned their back on my father, stating he’s just busy at work and he will turn up soon. But I know that not to be true. If he’s lost in his work, he always checks in with either myself or our staff as the woods around can be dangerous.
It’s been almost two weeks and it’s been radio silence.
Please, if you could find my father, I would be forever in your debt.
Joel lifts his eyes from the crumpled paper in his hands, staring up at the manor once more. "All this from just looking at mold and mushrooms?" he mutters to himself, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. With a sigh, he tosses the paper back onto the pile beside him and hunts for his lighter in his jacket pocket. Balancing a cigarette between his lips, he sparks the flame and takes a long drag of the nicotine before exhaling a puff of smoke into the car. “I’m in the wrong damn profession.”
He tucks the lighter back in his pocket as he kills the ignition, stuffing the keys into their rightful spot alongside the lighter. The nicotine surges through his body, the soothing sensation seemingly relaxing his bones as he leans back in his seat with a heavy sigh. He closes his eyes, allowing himself a moment of peace before he has to get to work.
He rolls his head to the side, taking in the sight of the fat raindrops smashing against the car's passenger window. The trees sway violently in the wind nearby, the weather conditions worsening with every passing second. He leans over the console, tugging on the glove box until it opens, ignoring the second fallen flask as he continues to dig through the paperwork. His fingers slip past the scattered pages and documents, ultimately gripping onto the handle of his gun.
The gun fits snugly into his shoulder holster, the weight of the weapon a constant and familiar sensation. He adjusts his jacket to cover the weapon once more, the holster hidden from view as he smooths his fingers through his hair. An attempt to fix his appearance that's ultimately hopeless in the face of the terrible weather outside.
Before exiting, he picks up his flash from the floor. Just in case, he tells himself.
He opens the car door with a soft, annoyed hiss, taking in the frosty wind that whooshes into the car. He tosses the cigarette from his mouth and into the mud, stomping on it for extra measure despite the fact the rain had already killed the heat the moment he opened the door.
Uncaring of the rain, the detective quickly jogs up the stairs and reaches the door. He knocks once, then waits patiently before knocking again. This time, he knocks with a bit more volume, hoping that their attention would be drawn to the fact that he had arrived.
The rain covers any sound coming from beyond the door, making listening in difficult. The detective grunts in annoyance, trying to wiggle the handle only to find out that the door is locked.
“Fucking great.” He mutters as he looks up at the sky, as if the storm will help him.
Joel jogs back down the stairs, his eyes catching sight of another set of dark green doors to his left. With a quick motion, he pushes the large, wooden doors open with his hands. A sound of wood against the concrete floor screeches as he manages to force the heavy doors open.
Joel's voice echoes through the darkened room as he steps inside, the sound of his footsteps crunching bits of the hay that coats the floor. "Hello?" he yells out into the empty space, hoping that someone else would respond. His hand continues to explore the area nearest to him, his search for a light switch failing. In a last attempt before completely giving up, he removes the flashlight attached to his holster and repeatedly hits it against the palm of his hand until it finally turns on. The beam of light illuminates the barn in front of him.
Joel startles at the loud, sudden noise of the door slamming behind him. "Fuuuuck me," he lets out a small huff of air, placing a hand over his heart as his breathing becomes quick and agitated.
He’s getting too old for this shit.
The light shines across empty stalls, the once-organized buckets having been knocked over and the scattered hay now covering the floor. Joel frowns at the sight of this mess, using his booted foot to push a large barrel to the side. The sudden movement of the barrel causes a mouse to squeal, dashing across the room after its hiding spot had been compromised.
Joel stumbles back, his yelp filling the room much louder than the small creature's. With a quick glance around, he sighs in relief as he thanks whatever gods there may be that his embarrassing moment was left unnoticed.
“Damn rats” he mutters.
The detective regains his composure, quickly exiting the room before he makes another embarrassing, albeit vocal, expression of his fright.
The flashlight flickers before eventually dying out as he steps into the hallway. Joel scolds himself for his oversight in forgetting to change the batteries, making a disgusted noise as he tosses the useless, flickering flashlight back onto the strap of his holster.
In the absence of any proper lighting, his hands guide him instead as he moves down the dark, eerie hallway. Flashes of lightning illuminate the area through dusty windows, giving brief glimpses of his surroundings as he passes. He reaches the end of the hallway, pushing open a door into a brightly lit room - a conservatory.
The plants here seem to have a mind of their own, growing wherever they may wish and creeping over the garden beds. The various plants spread out in untamed, wild ways, almost as if they were crawling along the ground. They have completely overtaken the statues within the area, their vines and leaves wrapping around the cracked statues, like a python sucking the life out of its prey.
He hears the faint, humming sound coming from deep in the room. His feet carry him across the vine-covered bricks with each step, the stems of the plants snapping under the pressure of his boots as he moves through the room. The rain continues to pelt down on the glass roof above, the constant sound of raindrops hitting the surface of the glass echoing through the room.
He should probably call out, announce his presence to whoever or whatever it is that is humming. But, despite the fact he knows it is most likely the safest course of action, he finds himself entranced by the sound.
The massive tree dominates the corner of the conservatory, its thick trunk taking up the majority of the space as if it were demanding it. Its roots are thick, having already done their fair share of damage to the concrete path that surrounds it, tearing into the surface with reckless abandon. Joel carefully steps over a particularly large root as soon as he spots the end of a dress peeking out from around the side of the tree.
The humming is louder as he walks closer to the gigantic tree, the sound becoming even more beautiful as it mixes with the rain. He stops on the path, pausing to listen for several moments as he enjoys the melody and the ambiance that surrounds him.
He takes another step, a branch crunching under his boot.
The humming suddenly stops, interrupted by a startled gasp as the girl scrambles to her feet. She looks at the detective with wide, terrified eyes, her breath catching in her throat. The book she had been holding falls unceremoniously to the ground beside her, forgotten in her haste and fear. She stares at the detective, wide eyed like the fox he almost killed earlier.
They stare at each other, both wide eyed and frozen.
"Sorry, miss," he begins, his voice gentle as he attempts to puts her at ease. "Didn't mean to scare you," he assures her, shaking his head in genuine regret. He offers his hand for a handshake. "I'm Detective Miller," he introduces himself with a simple, respectful smile.
She relaxes at his reassurance, a warm smile settling on her face as she takes his hand into hers. Their hands fit together well, her hands being soft and delicate in his as he gives them a gentle shake.
“I’m awfully sorry sir, I guess the staff didn’t hear you. The storm is dreadfully loud.” As if to prove her point, thunder erupts through the room, shaking the ground beneath them slightly.
They both look up at the sky through the glass roof, a soft smile on her face.
He quickly lets go of her hand, allowing her to retrieve the book that she had dropped in fright. As she rises to her feet once more, her eyes move across his body, taking note of every little detail. He raises an eyebrow in response to her action, a curious and amused expression lighting his face as he watches her take him in.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re absolutely drenched. We’ll have to get you dry before I let you in the main house. Eliza will have your neck if you dirty her precious floors.”
He takes a moment to look down at his clothes as well, taking note of the way that the damp fabric drips onto the bricks beneath him, a small puddle slowly forming and slowly oozing its way through the cracks.
“Oh, right. Of course. Sorry.”
"Follow me," she says with a wave of her hand, causing him to trail behind her as he follows her closely. Her braided hair flows softly down her back, the delicate bow sitting unevenly at the end. It calls out to him, his hand twitching with an urge to reach out and straighten the ribbon. But, he refrains from doing so, realising the action would indeed be weird. He knows that.
She leads the detective through a door, stepping into a room that is completely void of any source of light until she pulls on a string that's dangling from the ceiling, a single bulb that dangles above. She chuckles at his expression of annoyance as he eyes the old light, frowning at the way it flickers as it sways.
Was there a string light in the stables?
"It's a rather old house," she says with just the smallest hint of amusement, gesturing around the room to make her point. "You're going to find it operates like one," she continues, her words proving to be true. She turns around gracefully, her dress swirls and his eyes follow the movement of her figure as she walks away.
He liked the way she called him detective.
He's been referred to as a detective countless time over decades on the job, however, something about the way she said it, the tone she used, and the slight glimpse of amusement that danced upon her features when she said it made him feel almost...flustered.
He follows her through the room and into the kitchen, his nostrils immediately assaulted by the aroma of home-cooked food as he walks through the doorway. The smell causes his stomach to rumble slightly, a reminder that he hasn't had a home-cooked meal in a while. Having lived off greasy fast food and diner meals for far too long, he finds it hard to recall the last time he has had a meal that wasn’t drenched in oil or salt.
Freshly baked bread and pastries lay unattended on the island in the middle of the room, their scent wafting through the air as the large room fills with the aroma of baked goods. A pot full of what he assumes to be pumpkin soup sits on the stove top, the heat from the pot making the liquid simmer softly as an appetizing smell wafts forth.
He was just about to reach for a croissant, his fingers just about to pluck it from its plate when her words stop him in his tracks. "Alexander is a wonderful cook, but I wouldn't touch his pastry if I were you," she says with a light chuckle, making him freeze. He then clenches his hand into a fist and lowers it back down to his side, his fingers curling against his palm.
She pushes the door open, guiding him inside a dark, dirty hallway. A thick veil of cobwebs has taken over the space between the ceiling and the wall, blanketing the area in a spidery web of filth. The girl pauses at the entrance to the laundry room, quickly ushering him in with a brief gesture.
The room features a mixture of modern and old forms of laundry, the contrast between the two creating a unique atmosphere. She pulls out a stool for him to sit upon in front of the lit fire, which provides a welcome warmth to the chilly air. He doesn't hesitate to do as he's directed, shrugging off the water-soaked jacket before she quickly drapes it over a rack beside the fire.
He takes his sodden shoes off as the water sloshes around inside. She grabs the boots from his hands, quickly emptying the accumulated water out into the sink before placing them in front of the fire to dry them out.
He settles in front of the warm flames, adjusting the way his damp socks are positioned to soak in the heat. However, he doesn't linger on that activity for too long. "So, your father is missing?" he asks, falling into his typical line of questioning.
She sighs and nods her head, the sudden movement causing her shoulders to slump. Sitting on the back of her heels, her pale-yellow dress falls to the dirty floor, collecting on the grungy tiles as she settles down in front of the fire herself.
The detective watches the dirt from the grimy floors of the laundry room begin to pollute the pristine pale yellow of her dress, his frowning expression growing deeper at the sight. He stands from the stool and offers his hand to her. She tilts her head at him, a soft frown filling her features as she seemingly questions his actions. She does, however, take his hand without verbal questioning, allowing him to effortlessly lift her from the ground and gently guide her onto the stool. He then presses gently against her shoulders to encourage her to sit.
Joel doesn’t mind the dirty floor; he’s accustomed to it. But the girl? No, she deserves better.
He lowers himself to the ground, grunting as his knees crack from the act. He would have missed her giggle or smile; had he not been paying attention. It's this small noise that catches his attention, forcing him to look up at her with a faint, amused smile filling his expression.
Too sweet, too innocent.
He rolls his sleeves up before leaning back on his hands, his knees bent as he looks up at her. "You mentioned in your email that your father isn't known for disappearing without any contact," he repeats, referring to the words she had used when requesting his assistance. "How sure are you that he's not just out of range or just busy?"
Her smile disappears and the detective finds himself mourning the loss, an upset frown replacing it. “He wouldn’t just leave me for this long, detective. Somethings not right. He’s been so obsessed with this place since we moved here not that long ago.”
She continues to fiddle with the hem of her dress as she keeps her gaze firmly down at the ground, her fingers playing with and gently twirling the fabric around her fingers. He catches himself, noticing his eyes trailing down her bare legs to her white frilly socks, and promptly scolds himself for such an action.
Too soft, too innocent.
Her voice becomes softer as she continues to speak, a hint of sorrow permeating throughout her tone. "I've been dishonest with you detective," she says, expressing her shame and her apology. "And I’m sorry, I truly am,” she adds on with an emphasis on her sincerity, making it clear that the words she speaks are a genuine admission of fault. He finds himself wanting to reach out to her, to run his hands down her arms and let her know that whatever it is she may be ashamed of, he can assure her he's done worse. Much worse.
"That's alright, sweetheart," he reassures her in a calm and honest tone, his voice oozing with a mixture of comfort and confidence as he speaks to her. "As long as you're honest with me now, I need to know everything if I'm going to bring your daddy home safe," he continues, making it clear that he needs all the information he can get if he's going to succeed in locating her missing father.
She looks down at him, wide eyed and he feels as if he’s said something wrong.
“My father,” She corrects him before looking back down at her hands. “He hasn’t been the same since coming here. I’m afraid he’s gone mad, detective.”
“Mad?”
“He’s delusional, erratic almost. He talks about some big science company wanting to take his research away. How he won’t let them. He talks about how people have tried to kill him and how he’s created monsters in the woods that shouldn’t be alive. It’s insane sir, there hasn’t been anyone on our land since we got here. Besides you, of course.”
The detective listens to her statement intently, rubbing his hand over his stubble and scratching it against his chin as he does so. A brief thought crosses his mind that perhaps he should have trimmed the stubble before traveling the four hours to reach this isolated location, but he quickly shoves that line of thought to the side as he focuses on the task at hand - locating the girl's, insane sounding father.
“So, you think he’s running around in the forest naked, yelling at things that aren’t there?”
“No, of course not. He’s certainty clothed.” She stops, a wave of disgust covering her face. “Well, I hope so at least.”
A surprised chuckle escapes from him, the noise sounding more foreign to him than he realises as he's momentarily stunned by his own behaviour. The laugh seems to come from someplace deep within him, a forgotten aspect of his personality that seems to have disappeared along with most of his joy in life.
It's an unexpected, bittersweet surprise.
5:15pm
The manor is indeed far bigger than he would have suspected, as its winding, brightly lit corridors stretch on for what seems like miles, leading into rooms of various lengths and sizes. The lower, underground levels bear a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, the lack of use evident in the dirty walls and the dust that has accumulated over time. The change in the appearance and level of cleanliness from one floor to the next hints at the lesser use the lower levels receive when compared to the upstairs.
His boots echo loudly on the clean tiles, each step he takes filling the space with the sound of his footsteps. His jacket is draped over his arm as he holds it tightly to his chest, keeping it closely to his body as he walks through the manor.
The girl leads him up the stairs and to her father's study, where she stops dead in her tracks upon entering. A surprised gasp escapes from her mouth as she covers it with her hand, shock, and surprise evident in her expression as she takes in the sight before her.
Without pause to consider his actions, his hand instinctively grasps her arm and tugs her behind him, his body reacting to the possibility of danger as his hand quickly reaches for his weapon. A deep scowl forms on his face as he swiftly surveys the room with his eyes in search of any potential threat. However, he finds the room to be completely devoid of danger, yet with a clear sight of destruction as it seems as if a tornado had swept through the room. The books and papers are scattered throughout, the furniture overturned as if someone were carelessly searching for something.
He steps over an overturned chair, his gun forgotten once more in his holster as he takes in the state of the room. The girl cautiously follows him through the room.
He watches with interest as she picks up a small statue and places it carefully back on the shelf. “I was in here yesterday; nothing was out of place.” She utters as she adjusts the statue on the shelf, stepping away once she’s satisfied.
Joel quickly turns his head to face the direction of a booming voice, the papers gripped tightly in his hands. He finds himself locked in a gaze with an older woman in her late sixties, her head topped with greying blond hair tied into a tight bun. She is clad in an apron tied around her waist, the fingers of one hand pointed directly at him as she points with disdain in her expression. "What do you think you're doing?" she questions loudly, her tone demanding as she expresses her dissatisfaction with the presence of a man she's unfamiliar with within the confines of the study.
The girl steps into view of the doorway, and for a moment, the woman's expression settles upon seeing her, seemingly softening her demeanour temporarily. However, her gaze settles back onto Joel in a moment, her glare quickly returning as her eyes study him.
"Did you do this?" she questions, her tone sharp as she places the blame on Joel without a hint of doubt in her voice. He lets out a quick scoff in response, shaking his head before returning his gaze to the desk and the small remnants that remain of the once elegant and put-together study.
"No, of course not, Eliza," the girl says, her voice softer and more subdued compared to the older woman. She attempts to take on a calming and reassuring demeanour in hopes of alleviating the older woman's clear anger at the situation.
Joel watches the scene play out in the corner of his eye as he flicks through papers on the desk, almost enjoying it.
"Why is this man here, what have you done?" Eliza's hushed, stern voice is aimed directly at the girl, who gazes upward at the older woman with a look of frustration and bewilderment in her eyes.
“I hired him.”
"Hired him?" the older woman scoffs, her tone dripping with a mixture of amusement and condescension as she regards the girl as if she were a child. "Why on earth would you hire him?" she questions, her voice carrying on that same attitude of dismissing the girl as if she were making a foolish decision.
“He’s been gone too long, something is wrong.”
“Oh, you foolish girl. Your father is just working, this isn’t one of your stupid little stories in your books. You can’t go hiring some lowlife detective because your father hasn’t talked to you in a few days.”
Her face drops as the words fall from the older woman's lips, her head lowering to the ground as the woman scolds her with a dismissive tone. Joel feels a brief flash of anger flare up within him as he watches the interaction and realises how the older woman is treating the girl. Without hesitation, he casts aside the papers he's holding and quickly traverses the distance between them, placing himself at the younger girl's side.
“Now, I might be some lowlife detective,” Joel grits as he approaches Eliza, unpleased by her tone. “But she has every right to be worried about her father. And from the state of this room alone, I think I’m right to believe her concern. And if you don’t believe her, I ought to believe you had something to do with his disappearance.”
His arm brushes against the girl's shoulder as he stands beside her and makes no move to step away from her. A soft smile forms on her face as she glances downward, her eyes locked on the clean tiles beneath their feet. With a loud scoff, Eliza shows her displeasure at the detective's words, the older woman evidently offended by his words.
"How dare you accuse me of such things!" she counters angrily, her hand rising to her heart with a sudden huff of air.
"Well then, I guess you'll leave us alone then as I look for her father, your boss' whereabouts then?" Joel interjects as he raises his eyebrows, almost daring the older woman to object or to protest his presence within the manor.
Eliza shoots a final hateful gaze at the girl before shaking her head with a hmph! as she leaves, refusing to engage further with the situation. Joel's irritation grows within him, but he manages to tamp down the urge to roll his eyes or to confront the older woman further, restraining himself.
He glances down at the girl as she stands beside him, her head still lowered to the ground. His heart clenches and he stops himself from chasing the women and yelling at her, releasing his temper on her for treating her like that.
Instead, he reaches up with his hand, gently placing it beneath the girl's chin and lifting her head. Her watery eyes lock on his, their gazes becoming locked together as she meets his gaze, and he grits his teeth at the sight.
protectprotectprotectprotectprotect.
"Don't let her talk to you like that," he whispers softly, his voice barely audible as an urge to comfort the girl grows within him. His hand moves slowly as he cups the side of her face, his touch gentle and comforting as he caresses the girl's cheek with his thumb. The girl's breathing grows more laboured as a tear rolls down her face, her eyes closing as the emotional floodgate begins to give way.
His hand twitches slightly where it rests upon her cheek, and he frowns at the lone tear rolling down her cheek. Without warning, he pulls her into a small, comforting embrace, her cheek pressing against his chest as he gently massages the back of her head with one hand and rests the other upon her shoulder blades.
protectprotectprotectprotectprotect.
"I don't like people being upset with me," the young girl mumbles, her voice small and strained as her fingers grip firmly onto his shirt beside her face.
"Nahhhhh," he responds with a teasing tone, dragging it out as he smiles slightly. "Don't listen to her, she seems like a stuck-up bitch," His teasing words elicit a soft, quiet laugh from her. He watches her reaction with a smile, satisfied with her response. However, her mood dampens quickly, and a frown settles back onto her face as she pushes herself away from him.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have," she quickly apologizes, gesturing towards Joel with a somewhat embarrassed and apologetic look. She quickly pulls her arms around her own body, closing herself off once more and practically clutching onto herself.
He scolds himself, mentally kicking himself. He shouldn't have touched her, shouldn’t have hugged her. She’s a client, a much younger client at that. But he can't help himself. There is something about her, something that draws him in and calls to him, a need to hold her close and protect her, a desire to never let go.
“No, No. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He raises his hands in defence before he sighs and lowers his hands to his hips. “I shouldn’t have done that. You were upset, I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m sorry.”
If he knew what was good for him, he would get right back in his car and drive as far away as he possibly could, get away from this house and this girl and all the strange and unusual events which seemed bound to revolve around the house. And yet...the detective never did what was good for him.
So when she offers to show him the room he would be staying in with a kind gesture, he should have declined and given her a card for a detective much more qualified than him. He would have been better off finding another job, leaving her in better hands.
He follows her to his room.
6pm
Creamy pumpkin soup is placed in front of him, the thick and hearty, delicious-smelling bowl of soup setting his stomach rumbling. Thick, freshly sliced baked bread are stacked on a plate in the middle of the large dining room table. The smell alone causes him to practically drool as he takes in the sight before him.
Candles are lit along the sconces on the walls, providing a soft, dim light throughout the room, the atmosphere made more comforting as the storm rages outside.
He utters a quick thank you, giving a grateful nod towards the man who is pouring a glass of ice-cold water for him. He’s younger, maybe in his early thirties. His thick black curls dance on his head, his beard neatly trimmed as his dark green eyes shine in the candlelight. He’s wearing a dark blue apron, flour dusted on the material. The ice clanks lightly in the glass as he fills it, his movements efficient and precise as he places it in front of the detective before stepping away.
“I hope this is okay. If I had known we were having company, I would have asked for your preferences or any allergies.” The man moves swiftly to a cart at the end of the table, picking up a small plate littered with small slices of - what Joel assumes - different types of freshly made butter.
“This is more than okay, and no, no allergies.”
“Well, in that case detective, I’ll leave tomorrows menu in the kitchen in the adjacent room. If you have any requests, there’s a requests pad on the bench in there and I check that every morning. Little miss over here has requested French Toast for breakfast tomorrow, otherwise I normally tend to have free reign with the menu.” The man warmly smiles at the girl, his hand placing warmly upon her shoulder as she happily smiles back up at him. Joel feels a faint twinge of jealousy course through his veins as he watches the two of them, the girl's smile as genuine as the man’s.
Little miss.
When Joel notices the exchange between the man and the girl, he grinds his teeth slightly, trying to stave off the urge to say anything that he would regret in the heat of the moment. He does, however, glare into the man's head as he leans down to whisper in the girl's ear, his mouth moving too close to her ear for Joel's liking. The girl rolls her eyes with a small giggle, pushing him away with a smile, much to Joel's frustration.
Joel huffs, speaking up as he watches the two of them exchange another look. “I didn’t catch your name,” he says in a harsh, terse tone, and while his voice might have reflected a hint of annoyance, no one in their right mind could mistake that the detective was anything but annoyed in the situation.
“Alexander.” He nods back, his back straightening as he does so and his stance becoming more formal and proper. The detective notes the change in tone.
“And where can I find you, Alexander, If I have any questions?” The detective questions him, the man’s name like poison on his tongue.
“Either in the downstairs kitchen or the gardens, sir.”
Joel nods, his hand smoothing over the napkin on the table before him, a slight fidget of annoyance from the exchange. He is attempting to regain his composure, if only to maintain the image of a proper detective and not the jealous and irritated man he had been moments before.
Alexander excuses himself and leaves the room, leaving Joel alone with the girl, who sits across from him. The two of them sit in the silence that follows for a few moments, the air and tension heavy.
“Alex is a wonderful chef,” she says with a cheerful smile, and Joel makes quick note of just how oblivious she is to his soured mood. He forces his expression to soften somewhat as he nods and offers a faint, polite smile in response.
She leans across the table, picking up a slice of bread from the pile that rests on the center of the table, and he follows her example, taking a slice of bread himself. As he feels the soft, fluffy texture of the bread, he pauses for a moment, he hasn’t had bread this fresh in years.
“Where is everyone? The staff? They don’t eat with you?” He asks as she spreads the flavoured butter on her bread.
She shrugs, dunking the slice of bread into her bowl of soup and taking a bite, the soft crunch of the bite sounding delicious and mouth-watering. She smiles as she chews, her lips curling into a faint, happy smile, her eyes closing as she seems to take enjoyment in the flavours of the meal before her. He watches her, his hand lingering just above the plate of delicious and perfectly made butter as he freezes in place, transfixed by the sight of her across the table, his gaze lingering upon her as he tries not to lose himself completely.
He blinks, shakes his head as he slides his knife through a thick, soft portion of the butter and spreads it on his bread, ignoring her completely. He does not wish to get distracted by her, does not wish to allow himself to get caught up in the moment and get lost in watching her.
As he takes his first bite, his eyes widen in surprise and he lets out a curse, sitting back in his chair as he lets out a soft, expletive-laced murmur in amazement. "Fucking hell," he mutters, his gaze glued to the bowl of soup in front of him as his mouth waters from the delicious creamy texture, trying to understand how something could taste so damn good, how he had been missing out on something as amazing as this.
She laughs, across the table and he looks back up at her. “I told you he’s an amazing chef.”
“You eat like this every day?”
She nods, taking a sip of her water.
“Damn, sweetheart.”
He watches as her eyes widen before she relaxes, her reaction all but confirming his suspicion that the simple term of endearment flusters her. He watches her sink into her chair as she puts her cup down, and then picks up her spoon and resumes eating.
Sweetheart.
8:48pm
He spends the night in the study of Dr. Lewis, taking in his surroundings as he moves through the space, taking note of the countless papers and artifacts filling the room. However, upon searching the area, he comes up empty-handed, realising that whatever might have held the clue to her father’s mysterious disappearance was long gone, most likely alongside the individual who broke into the study.
What he does find, he should have put back and not read. The locks on the filing cabinets are broken, so he feels better about not breaking into the files. Although if he thinks about it, he still is.
Her name is at the top of the document he's holding, and he pauses, his curiosity overcoming any reservation he might have held. He glances behind him and sees that the room is empty, that he is alone with no risk of getting caught. With that reassurance, he begins to read, feeling as if he is delving into forbidden knowledge.
He learns her age, a young twenty-two that makes his old forty-four bones ache. He skims past her brief description and head-shot photo, realising quickly what he’s reading is a copy of her own authors blurb he would find at a back of a novel.
She’s an author?
“Your silly little stories” echoes in his head and he grits his teeth in anger, realising the woman was scrutinizing her own books she’s written, and he shakes his head as he puts the paper back and slams the drawer.
10:04pm
The detective grumbles as he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck, settling into the armchair in his room. A glass of dark whiskey sits on the small side table before him, and a lit cigarette sits pinched between his fingers. He takes a slow, deep drag of the cigarette, pulling the smoke into his lungs, exhaling slowly through his nostrils as he lets his mind wander, trying to sort out all the conflicting and confusing thoughts that were running through his mind right now.
The window is cracked open, letting fresh air into the room as he exhales smoke into the room, the rain still falling from the night sky in a steady downpour. He takes another drag from his cigarette and settles back in his chair, his mind wandering as he watches the curtains flow in the breeze, raindrops sliding down the windowpane to hit the concrete outside.
His shoulder holster is hung on the back of the desk chair, the gun secured in the bedside table next to the bed. His white sleeves rolled up to his elbows, leaving the forearms exposed as he takes a drag from his cigarette and his gaze drifts back out to the window. His shoes are placed neatly by the door, his knees spread as he sinks into the chair.
The girl. The damn girl, she's all he can think about. She keeps entering his mind every time he tries to focus on the case, the thought of her distracting him from his duties. He knows he's here for a reason, he's aware that he has something he has to do- someone to find. But he can't stop thinking about her, keep getting lost in the thought of her. He's supposed to keep his mind on the job here, but she keeps slipping in, forcing her way into his train of thought, and distracting him from his purpose.
He closes his eyes, doing his best to think about her father instead, the case.
Last seen? Tuesday morning two weeks ago at the breakfast table. Happy, normal self.
Last contacted? Wednesday night, supposedly five miles west of the manor in a small underground cave he’s been working out of. Short tempered, not his normal self.
His study? Ransacked. Did someone break in? Was it one of the staff? Was it Dr. Lewis himself? The girl mentioned she had been in there the day prior, nothing amiss. They would have been loud from the state of the furniture tossed around. How did no one hear it happen?
The housekeeper seemed very opposed to him being here, he’ll have to keep an eye on her. For the case of course, not to make sure she’s treating the girl right. For the case.
The chef, as much as he wants to throw the man out, cooking seems to take up most of his time. Still, he’ll be keeping a very close eye on him. For the case.
She had also mentioned a grounds keeper that also lives in the manor, yet the detective had seen so signs of the woman she had mentioned. He’ll have to track her down tomorrow.
He hears a soft knock on his door and, with a quick glance towards the door, he calls out, "Come in." The door opens slowly as he watches it, his head tilting slightly to the side with curiosity when the door begins to creep open, the dim light from the hallway spilling into the room.
He takes the cigarette still between his lips, extinguishing it in the ashtray on the table beside him, his body tensing as he does so, the small moment of relief he got from inhaling the smoke gone now, replaced with a sense of restlessness.
His hands grip onto the arms of the chair as he watches her enter the room. She’s dressed in a pale blue set of pyjamas with small rabbits, the long pants and button-up shirt making her look quite adorable. Her once braided hair was now loose and untidy, the strands falling against her face and her neck. It takes everything in him to not stand from the chair and throw her on his bed-
"Thought you might like some cookies, they're fresh out of the oven." Her voice is faint, almost shy, and her smile follows suit, causing his eyes to drift downward to the plate of thick chocolate chip cookies she is clutching close to her chest. His gaze moves beyond the cookies to the glass of milk she is holding in one of her hands, his throat growing tight.
“Alexander make them?” He asks and she shakes her head.
“You then?”
She shrugs, a bashful look on her face, as she avoids his gaze and looks around the room as if she's never seen it before.
"Sure, I'll have one sweetheart," he sighs with a slight smile, lifting a hand from the chair and reaching out, motioning her to move closer. He wants her closer, wants her to sit next to him or perhaps even on his lap-
Her closeness is almost intoxicating as he takes a cookie from the plate, taking note of how warm and soft they are, of how the chocolate melts on his fingers. His eyes lock on hers as he takes a bite, his eyebrows furrowing as the sweet mix of chocolate melts on his tongue. A soft, content moan rumbles in his chest as he savours the taste, taking a larger bite from the cookie, he watches as her breath hitches.
“You really make these?” He asks.
She nods softly, her eyes glued to his.
Fuck it.
His hand is slow as it reaches out, as if he is unsure of what he is doing or if he should even do it at all. The fabric of her shirt is smooth on his fingers, soft under the feel of his hand as he places his hand on her hip and gently tugs, feeling her step closer to him and position herself between his spread legs, her shins against the chair. His eyes lock on hers as their bodies are suddenly so close.
“I…” she begins, her voice stuttering as she finds her words hard to come by. She glances down at his hand, which traces her hip slowly and delicately, his fingers lightly pressing into the soft fabric of her shirt.
"Hmm?" he hums in response, his eyes following as his thumb moves the shirt, exposing her delicate, soft skin as the tip of his fingers trail across her hip.
Softsoftsoftsoftsoft.
Her eyes widen as his fingers graze her skin, her body reacting in surprise as his fingers move over her skin. She gasps, quickly taking a step back from him, the unexpected movement sloshing the milk in her glass as she places the plate on the table beside him with the milk, their moment of intimacy cut short before he lowers his hand back to the armrest, watching as she settles herself at a distance.
"I hope you like them," she rushes her words with a faint smile, before she leaves the room, closing the door behind her. The suddenness of her leaving makes his jaw clench, his body tense as he stares at the closed door, the sound of her footsteps as she walks away from him the only sound in the otherwise silent room.
He looks over at the cookies, picking one up and taking another bite.
Sweet, soft, delicate, warm - just like her.
His eyes shift from the glass of milk to the untouched whiskey as he takes in the sudden shift in the air, trying to regain his composure. His hand reaches out for the glass of whiskey, drinking it in one go, the warmth of the alcohol burning down his throat as he lets out a sigh, trying to take his mind off her.
Click here for Chapter Two
Notes
so i got this idea after playing Alone in the Dark and getting into a resi evil playthrough. So if you see any similarities or themes, that's why. Also stemed from that joel mod in resi 4 in the chain scene. if you know- you know. (im feral over it)
tbh i just needed to write detective joel.
also this is just chapter one, it will be a POV switch and there will also be a reader POV
If you want to be tagged, please comment on the masterlist for this series and I will add you. If you want to be taken off, please DM so i don't miss your request.
Every comment, like and reblog means the world to me. please let me know your thoughts about this, i want to ramble about this story so much.
#joel miller#the last of us#joel tlou#joel fanfic#joel x reader#tlou#tlou joel#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#detective!joel#joel x female reader#joel x f!reader
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You're safe with me
*Authors note~ I'm deathly scared of thunderstorms so I relate to reader. Reader is also of legal age and in her last year of her education. My OC Isadora is mentioned in this*
Warnings~ bullying?
Prompt~ reader is terrified of thunderstorms and somehow reader is left out in the storm terrified and alone. Lesso comes to the rescue comforting fluff.
The rain is hammering down on you showing you absolutely no mercy. The sky dark blue sky with angry rainclouds, showing you this wouldn't be passing anytime soon. It was almost curfew when you decided to leave the safety of the cosy library. Candle light providing the perfect atmosphere, you were able to finally relax. Legs curled up underneath your form as you settled in to finish your book. The book itself is beautifully written plot twists and turns captivating you. Fresh Cut Roses was most certainly addictive. (This is an amazing FanFiction on AO3 go check it out honestly made me cry) so addictive in fact that you spent all of your evening curled up reading.
Miss Isadora, school librarian who had become a close friend of yours gave you a gentle nudge when curfew was approaching. Not wanting you to be caught out your dorm and effectively end up in a trip to the doom room. You reluctantly placed your book mark into the book before closing it and standing slowly. Your back was stiff from how long you'd been sat against the bookshelf, however you slowly but steadily made your way to the door of the library. Bidding Isa a goodbye with a small smile you set on your familiar journey to your dormitory, book safely clutched to your chest.
You walked the dark and dingy halls, lit with a small amount of candles causing shadows to twist and bend in an almost terrifying dance in front of you. It was almost comforting, you'd lived at the school for four years now so you knew the halls like the back of your hand. So when the world suddenly went black and you could feel your body falling backwards you couldn't help the scream of pure terror. Not the good kind of terror that every Never loves, no this was the gut sinking kind. You continued to struggle against whatever had you captive but it was no use. It was too strong. All you could do is allow it to happen in hopes that you would be okay in the end.
It was the signature laugh of Hester that gave you your hint on what was happening. Earlier in the day you had your class with the one and only dean of evil Leonora Lesso. In said class you were paired with each other and encourage to spar. Lesso knew all of your abilities well, so it was no surprise that she'd paired you and Hester. In a small dash of luck you'd managed to win the sparring contest, ultimately causing Hester to wage a war between you and herself. Not a war that you actively wanted to participate in. Only when you heard the thick heavy doors slamming open and the two other voices did you realise. You were outnumbered. Your captors, Hester and her two wing women had dragged you out into the unrelenting rain. The cold droplets hitting your skin as you were yanked on to the ground and shackles added to your wrists and ankles.
The excruciatingly loud boom of thunder roared above your heads, electing a panicked gasp from you. Tugging against the restraints you begged your captors to help. Let you go. You hated how pathetic and desperate you sounded. It was absolutely terrifying to be tied up in the storm. Especially when the lightning crackled in the near distance. Your desperation soaked into your pleading. Instead of releasing you, you were met with the harsh ugly cackles of the girls as they fled the scene. Leaving you alone, scared and immobile. Powerless as the storm continued to rage onwards. It was in this moment that you regretted forgoing a coat. Tears soaked your cheeks mingling with the raindrops trailing down your cheeks. Shivers racked your body a mix of absolute terror and freezing cold temperature that surrounded you. Struggling against the restraints, you lost track of the time. How long had you been here?
The storm still raging on, you could feel your body shutting down. A fear response which you knew all to well. Panic bubbling away under the surface, tears streaming freely your throat too horse from the cold and the fear to make any noise. You had definitely missed curfew now. Your book lost in the transporting of your body. A comfort item, all the comfort you had was gone. That alongside the storm and your sore tired wrists and ankles you couldn't help feeling absolutely exhausted and pathetic. You were an Never. This isn't how you were suppose to be. But you weren't quite an Ever either. A perfect mess and a misfit of the first degree.
The familiar clicking of Lesso's cane normally could never be missed by you. But now as the storm raged and the cold was seeping through your bones you didn't hear it. Fear had you stiller than a statue. It was only when her perfectly manicured hand reached out for you that you noticed her presence. You recoiled from her pulling at the iron shackles you were instantly fearing the worst. You're wrists were red raw from the pulling and the cold, eyes protesting all the fear you felt and rapidly blinking trying to focus on the form in front of you.
"Pl- p - ease d-d-d-ont h-h-hhrt m-m-me" your plea stumbling out broken. You knew how pathetic you sounded. Chained to the floor you cowered away like a petrified child.
"Hey, hey, hey, little one. I won't hurt you. You're safe with me." She stated while assessing the quickest and easiest way to free you from the restraints. You blinked rapidly through the haze of tears and rain "L-L-es-s-s-o?" You attempted to whisper as your teeth chattered.
"That's right little one, let's get you out of these hmm?" The caring tone that was never normally present, already starting to sooth your emotional state. Although she hated to show it Lesso had the biggest heart and would do anything to help any of her Nevers. Using her own magic, Lesso freed you from the shackles, rubbing gently soothing the sore points on your wrists. You let out a small hiss in pain as she gently stroked the abused skin. Now you were less restricted in movements, shivers racked over your tiny body.
"Little one, you're absolutely soaked darling let's get you inside hmm? Can you stand?" Her gaze refused to move from you watching as you tried to stand but your frozen body giving out before you could get upright. Thankfully the storm had moved over you now and was just noise in the distance. You tensed as Lesso helped you to your feet and guided you back into the school. You kept your gaze downwards from embarrassment and fear. The dean of evil herself saw you in such a weak and pathetic state. You'd heard the rumours on what happened to weak Nevers. Not something you wanted to experience. You caught sight of the familiar hard cover of your book and willingly dropped to the floor to get it back in your arms. Only when you reached it a strangled cry left your lips after discovering it had been damaged. Pages ripped from the spine, bent corners of its usually pristine condition.
"Little one? What's this ?" You could hear the curiosity in her voice.
"M-m-y b-b-o-oo-ok" you cried out into the otherwise empty halls, fresh tears leaking from your eyes. "I-I-ts r-ru-I-nd "
"Oh y/n it's okay. It's okay come let's go somewhere warmer. You're going to freeze to death here. Bring the book darling we will see what we can do okay?"commanded, her tone lacking its usual bite.
Together you both made your way to Lady Lesso's office. This is how you found yourself settled in front of her fire shivering as your body soaked in any heat the fire would give. Limbs stinging as the heat meat cold flesh. "Little one, what happened? Why were you out there ?" She queried. You explained everything you knew from leaving the library to the storm to now. You only paused to take breaths in attempts to calm yourself.
"Oh darling, your okay it's just a silly storm, I'll see to it those girls get the punishment don't you fret. Little dove can I touch you?" Her voiced wavered slightly as if she was debating if it was the right thing to do. You nodded and flung yourself into your normally cold hearted deans arms. Immediately feeling her hands stroking over your hair. The extra body heat further helping you warm up. The beating of her heart under your ear, allowing you to focus on calming down fully. It was only now that you could fully process the events that occurred. The storm. Your book. Your eyes drifted to the latter that was resting next to you. Unknowingly to you Lesso caught the expression of deep sadness that flashed over your face.
"Little one? Tell me about this book? It's clearly important to you. I'll see if I can source another for you tomorrow." She whispered out into your hair.
"There's a character who can manipulate and produce plants, she falls in love with a principle but something happens causing her to sacrifice herself for the principle in an act of love. I was just at that point before I left the library." You could hear the emotion creeping back into your voice as you recalled the last chapter and how you were left unknowing if the character had bled out into her death or if she'd been saved somehow. You heard a small chuckle escape the older women. "You're quite the emotional little thing hmm? I'll have to read it seems you speak so highly of it."
A flush adorned your cheeks as you nuzzled into the hug finally feeling some kind of contentment for the first time since leaving the library. Basking in the fiery glow of the intricate dance the flames were doing. Here in Lesso's arms you finally felt safe.
Word count ~ 1757
*Authors note~ this was so cute to write*
#lady lesso#leonora lesso#leonora lesso x reader#lady leonora lesso#fanfic#lesso x reader#lady lesso x reader#sfgae
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So....I know I said I wasn't going to work on any new chapter fics until I finished the other 3 I have going but fate decided otherwise.
Here is the first chapter to my new fic featuring Papa Emeritus I!
Potpourri
During his retirement, Papa Primo Emeritus falls in love with a new Sister of Sin who has suffered a tragic loss. While the new sister settles into the Abbey, Primo can't help but grow more infatuated with her. Promising to give her everything she desires, but can he win her affections when she still can't let go of the past?
Chapter 1: That Funny Feeling
Also available HERE on AO3!
NSFW due to triggers below the cut
*See trigger warnings in tags*
Three months ago...
She doubled over in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. Eyes heavy with the weight of grief, as the inevitable was well on its way to completion. Her hand fell over the small swell of her belly. Pain, now coming in sharp waves. Like an ocean of knives determined to take its pound of flesh.
Her knees hit the floor, hands wrapped around her middle and the sounds of her crying desperately trying to drown out the word and it sympathies. The blood continued dripping along the white bathroom tile. Calling attention to her loss as she heard their voices. Well intentioned words, conjured from unassuming lips, that echoed in her mind.
"Everything happens for a reason…"
"Some things are just not meant to be."
"God has a plan."
It was over before it began.
Present Day
It had been raining for weeks. The clouds squeezed for every last drop and the shining sun, refusing to come out from hiding. The morning downpour had turned into midday afternoon showers as Primo silently cursed Satanas for his aching joints. The weather changes, making him painfully aware of each passing moment spent in his mortal coil. A reminder that he was still somewhat human, unrelenting and bleak. He was getting older, a man now well into his sunset years and finally able to enjoy the well-earned spoils of his retirement from the Papacy.
It had taken decades for his father to release control. A long overdue ascension that had only come after years of fighting with the Ministry. A power now all but led by Sister Imperator, his father’s former lover. Primo had done his best, serving as Papa for many years before resurrecting the Ghost project.
It was not his choice but regardless he was successful. Ghost taking off in directions that only time would tell. A bright future for the Ministry burning like the fires of Hell that lay beyond Charon’s ride. When the time came however, Primo was more than happy to relinquish control to his brother Secondo. His reign, followed soon after by their other brothers Terzo and then Copia—the last of the Emeritus bloodline.
Primo was, for all intents and purposes, happy. The Ghost project, reaching new heights in Copia’s capable hands. Leaving Primo to spend his time how he truly preferred, among his plants and nature. Occasionally communing with the spiritual realm and preparing his weekly Black Mass as he lived out the rest of his days. His life, having been up to this point full.
Primo grew up wanting for nothing. His beloved mother, the last of the Prime Movers, had assured him a coveted education and apprenticeship with the finest necromancers, seers, and casters the Ministry could offer. He grew up with nobility in name, but his strength of character and his actions proved his right to the respect bestowed upon him. A respect shared by every congregant, sibling of sin, clergyman, and ghoul within the Ministry.
His happiest of days were spent raising his two younger brothers whose mothers had been unable and Nihil, incapable of raising by himself. He had hoped that his time now would be a return to solace and enrichment without the pressures of the Papacy. Something, however, had still felt unfulfilled. A gnawing in his stomach that told him a piece was still missing, one he might not ever obtain.
A thought buried deep inside his mind, hiding beneath the dirt and soil he worked so hard to till. The like seeds he planted tirelessly, for the sake of promised beauty. But for now, the rain still fell. Primo peered out the large parlor window of his quarters, sipping on his favorite herbal tea and watching as the old bus pulled up in front of the Abbey.
“Oh Lucifer, that's today?" he sighed, his thoughts recalling an all but forgotten meeting with the Clergy about receiving a set of fresh would-be siblings—now only capable sinners. Primo stood up from his chair, bone cracking as he went upright and headed out towards the main hall. He adjusted his collar and quickly smeared on his corpse paint before he left. While he would prefer to stay confined to his rooms on a day like today, it was expected of him to greet them.
Along with the other former living Papas, Primo would welcome them to the beginning of their new lives. One outside of God's watchful eye and held in darkness. He arrived downstairs just as they were filing out of the cabin. Terzo and Secondo, already waiting for them on the stairs. The two of them like hungry wolves, eyeing the group for their next bed mate.
“Another flock for which to shepard huh old man.” Terzo mused, a smile on his face as one of the women glanced his way. Ever the charismatic lover, Primo knew he’d make his way through the new recruits as fast as one takes to breath—his lust essential to his being.
“Ah si, but will you allow them to make it to their vows before having them singing praises to Asmodeus from your bed chambers fratellino?” Primo asked, clearing his throat as Terzo rolled his eyes. A typical gesture from the Third Emeritus son to be sure though Primo paid him no mind. While he loved him dearly Primo couldn't help but still see his younger brother as an obstinate child. Forever in pursuit of Lust above all things. Primo wondered how, despite his best efforts, his middle siblings turned out more like Nihil than either would care to admit.
It was times like this he missed Copia, who just happened to be on the first leg of rituals. His first tour as Papa, for which Primo was very proud. It had only been recently that he had learned of the former Cardinal’s parentage and despite their not having grown up together, Primo left just as close with Copia as he did the others. Maybe even more so, since they both shared a distinct distaste for Nihil that was like no other.
As the last of those from the bus had stepped off, the brothers were happy to welcome home Mr. Saltarian. The man in charge of bringing the group to the Abbey and Primo’s dearest old friend. As he approached the first Emeritus son smirked, “Well now…they just allow anyone to recruit new siblings during these times hmm.”
“Well we are surely in times of turmoil my friend and well someone has to do it, it might as well be me.” Saltarian chuckled, raising an eyebrow and throwing his arm around Primo. The two men, sharing a hug before Mr. Saltarian headed inside. Not but a moment later, he returned, this time with Sister Imperator in tow. She was looking especially severe. Her hair pulled back tight and working her favorite charcoal pantsuit and red heels as she walked carefully down the entryway stairs. She began clapping her hands as she reached the drive, trying to gain the crowd's attention before beginning to speak.
“Yes, attention. Welcome, welcome all Seminarians and Novitiate. I am Sister Imperator, the Abbess of this Abbey. Today we will settle you all into your dormitories with the other siblings. You will take the opportunity to rest and unpack. Tomorrow we begin your final training and preparations for full conversion. Now if you will please follow me.” she explained, everyone following her inside.
Primo watched and nodded as the crowd entered the Abbey. The would-be siblings were excited to see the Emeritus sons in person. Most of them, smiling and nodding in reverence as they passed by. It was during this time he caught a glimpse of her—a would-be sister hiding amongst them. Her face was soft, and round. Thick black lashes surrounding eyes of honey brown that matched the golden brown locks from her head. Soft curls that hit just at her waist, seeming to bounce a bit as she walked. The standard crimson and black robes of the tributes, adorned in gold Grucifix embroidery, fitting a bit tight against her ample bosom. A quiet and melancholic demeanor, which may have kept her overlooked from others, calling attention to Primo. Her pale delicate features and withdrawn appearance like a beacon against the smiles and conversations of those around her.
Primo was entranced. There was something about her that made him want to know more. A needy feeling gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. He felt drawn to her, her very soul seeming to be reaching out to him he thought when he was abruptly forced back into reality by a swat to the shoulder.
“Losing focus, fratello?” Secondo laughed, biting his lip as he contemplated his first moves with a number of the new recruits. His intensions worn openly as he practically fucked them with his eyes as they walked in.
“Hardly.” Primo responded as Mr. Saltarian went to stand beside him. “ Salare, who is that woman?” he asked him. Primo’s eyes, never leaving the woman in the crowd. Saltarian tried looking around attempting to see anything that stood out to him.
“You’re gonna have to be more descriptive than that.” he laughed. Primo pressed his lips together in annoyance as the woman that had captured his attention reached the doorway and disappeared inside.
“The one in the back with the longer hair, solemn looking and quiet?” he continued, hoping that would be enough for his friend to figure it out. Saltarian got quiet, nodding to him just before he spoke.
“That's Novitiate Guinevere. Most of the group calls her Gwen not that she really talks to anyone. She’s quiet that one Papa. Why do you ask?” Mr. Saltarian inquired.
“Oh…It is nothing…just a funny feeling.”
Notes:
Seminarian- Preist in training
Novitiate- Nun in training
Salare- Salt
#tw: pregnancy#tw: miscarriage#tw: pregnancy loss#tw: blood#ren writes#ghost#the band ghost#ghost fic#ghost fanfic#ghost fanfics#ghost fanfiction#the band ghost fic#the band ghost fanfic#the band ghost fanfiction#primo#papa i#papa emeritus i#primo x sister gwen#primo x gwen#primo x guinevere
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Conversations at the CATS Hideout, Chapter 3
Eda and Raine talk. Reada angst. Reada fluff, Reada banter. Just Reada. There. That's the summary.
________
Part one: link
Part two: link
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Raine led Eda to the two titan bones that served as support beans of the hideout's terrace. The two perched on them in silence, Raine sipping their cocoa, having developed a strong dislike for tea, thanks to Terra Snapdragon while Eda sipped on her coffee. They observed the sunrise, knowing that soon, they would have to start planning their strategy for taking down Belos.
"You know, this has a pretty nice view for a secret hideout," Eda said, "Are you sure we are safe here, though?"
"Don't worry, while that house is the only one in use, Darius owns three more houses surrounding it. No nosy neighbours here."
"Seriously? Pretty boy owns this space? I mean it has its charm but I can't see him buying it,"
"That's why we went for it. He bought it under a pseudonym, and nobody would expect that he is the actual owner. He hates it, but Eber, the kids and I like it enough."
"Well, it's not the Owl house but, it will do," she sighed, taking a bite of her food, "Oh my, Luz is not losing her touch!"
"These are amazing, " Raine agreed, "though I should've taken some of that Darius' jam, it would make them even better. Anyways, are you holding up ok?" they asked sympathetically.
"I'll...I'll be fine," she sighed. "The Owl House...I would love to say it's just a building, it would make things easier, but it's been my home for over a decade. It's been my sanctuary, a safe space, and not just for me. I raised King there, I took in Luz there. I miss those old walls and, titan, I have to admit I miss all of my stuff. But hey, my sister is safe, my house demon is safe, my kids are safe and," she looked them in the eyes, "unrelated to the house, but you are safe. That's what matters the most."
"Eda.."
"You do! Titan, Raine, when I saw you at the parade...
"Eda, about that..." they looked at her desperately.
"Yeah, about the that! What the actual hell, Raine?" she asked, flaring up.
"I was just..." they tried saying, but trailed off, looking away. It was horrible to see the hurt in Eda's eyes.
"You were just what?" Eda asked, tears threatening to fall out of her eyes, "Why did you pretend you didn't remember me? Do you know how much it hurt to see you there, seemingly barely recognizing me? Do you know how much it hurt to believe that I have lost you, but for real, forever this time? To think that someone has hurt you, that someone has messed with your mind?"
"I was trying to keep you safe!" Raine shot back.
"Raine, I'm a wild witch, I've been the most wanted criminal on the isles for decades and I managed to stay free, me just living is not safe! I could have helped! I know I'm powerless and helpless now but I can-"
"For titan's sake Eda, I'd never question your capabilities, magic or no magic! You are far from helpless, I saw what you can do back during the fight against Darius, and I'd be a right idiot to call your expertise in question after that! And that was before that," they pointed to her wings, "was a thing! Do you think it was easy to keep this from you? It hurt me too, but I was trying to keep you from being hurt more!"
"Well, congratulations Raine, you failed! I was hurt right back! You hurt me faking your own brainwashing! Great plan, Whispers!" Raine visibly flinched and Eda lowered her voice by a bit, "Dang it, sorry, that was harsh. But it...it did hurt. Do you know how much it hurts to believe that one of the people that matters the most to you in the world is gone?"
"I do! I almost watched it happen in the crystal orb!" Raine shot back, shouting as well, tears spilling from their eyes.
"What? Who-" Eda sounded taken aback.
"You," they smiled sadly, wiping the tears away, "Your...your petrification Eda...I, even after all that time," they looked at her for a moment, "you were important to me. To watch you almost turn to stone then..." Rain closed their eyes, shaking their head, unable to finish.
"Raine..." Eda said softly, her anger lessened. She almost forgot that her pertification was not only a public but a broadcasted thing. She imagined what it must've been like for them, seeing her for the first time in years, in the crystal orb, for the first time seeing her cursed form, and then the petrification...
"I'm sorry. I know, I know I messed up," Raine, their voice low and regretful, snapped her from her thoughts, "I made a bad call. But keeping you safe was all I wanted. And then it turned into trying to keep those two kids of yours as well. You claimed they are not yours yours, but I saw how much they matter to you. I hurt you, I know, I saw it at the parade, I see it now. I'm sorry. You have every right to be mad," they said and, ironically, those words made Eda's anger completely deflate, "but I am sorry. If you can ever forgive me-"
"Hey, of course, I forgive you!" she put a hand on their shoulder, meaning every word fully.
"Eda..."
"Oh come on, you know I don't hold grudges!" she smiled tearfully, "Ok, that was a bald-faced lie if I ever said one, and I said plenty of lies in my life. But I only hold petty, stupid grudges. I get it. I'm sorry I snapped, and I'm sorry you went through all that, I know how much of a pain it is to try to keep someone safe that way. I just tried to do the same with Luz and, well, you saw the results. Titan, I'm a hypocrite!"
"Well, I'd do the same thing for Derwin, Katya and Amber were I in your spot," Raine smiled.
"And I'd probably do the same if I was in yours," she snorted. "Though I have no idea how you managed to do it? Let Darius say whatever he wants about your acting abilities, you tricked me, that is for sure!"
Raine scratched their neck guiltily. It was a compliment and a reprimand at the same time, "You guessed I still cared for you," they said quietly.
"Yeah, but in a they still remember the good old days and care about me as an old friend not in a they are actually secretly still a rebel way! And it's only because I know you as well as I do!"
"Well, I guess years of pretending I'm not dying of stage fright finally paid off!"
"Which is weird, because that is one area where your acting skills still fail you!"
"Eda!" they cried indignantly.
"Hey, I say it as I see it. But how did you manage to trick the Bitchdragon," they frowned at the insult, "What? Kids are not around, I can curse. Also, between everything they saw, teaching them curse words might actually be helpful, they could let off some steam. On a serious note, how'd you do it?"
"Do you remember my old juice trick?"
"How could I forget? No way! That worked? Wow!" she slapped them on the shoulder, impressed, "You are a genius, you know that?"
"I know I can be pretty brilliant," they said confidently. That is one thing Eda always liked about them, for all their shyness and stage fright, Raine never doubted their skills. "I've played her," they paused, "like a fiddle from minute one."
Eda snorted at laughed at the cheesy pun, "Man, I want to see her face once the truth comes out!"
"I knew you would appreciate the joke, Darius doesn't. Puns are unrefined humour he says," Raine rolled their eyes.
"Cape-boy would not recognize humour if it bit him in the nose," Eda commented. "But, I guess I have to be grateful that whole fight was an act. Do you know how much I wanted to punch him in the face after he captured you? He was lucky I was unable to do this," she transformed one of her arms into a claw, "back then."
"Whoa," Raine stared at here in awe, "so, that is new, huh? Also, yeah, it's a good thing we did not inadvertently murder our allies..."
"Yeah, this is new," she moved her wings. "It's a good new."
"Could you, could I see your full other form again?" they asked, blushing immediately, "I mean if it's a personal thing, or something you don't want to do, I don't need to pressure but, you looked...amazing and-"
"Calm down, Rainstorm," Eda laughed, "It's not some taboo ask . Come on, I used it to threaten Darius about not criticising Luz's pancakes. Of course you can see it," she said, transforming.
"Huh, what do you think?" she asked, standing up and Raine didn't even try to hide that they were staring up at her. "Pretty cool, right?"
"Wow!" they took her all in, suddenly feeling very warm, "You look, titan Eda, you look fantastic! I mean, that is ok to say, right?"
"Of course it is!" she said, sitting back next to them, not bothering to turn back, "Do you think I would be showing it off like this is it wasn't?"
"How? I mean, the last time, well the last time the thing I knew is that i caused your magic to disappear and....messed with it. But before..."
"Before I would not speak a word of it because I was scared and ruined things between us," Eda said bluntly. "It was a taboo topic back then and that was a problem."
"Calamity..." Raine reached for her, gently placing their hand on her shoulder.
Eda smiled ruefully, "It's the truth. I was talking to you about facing your fears while I was the coward. I'm sorry, I should've been honest before."
"It's ok, it's been years since. And maybe I should've-"
"No, Rainstorm," she said firmly, "this one was on me. You know, facing that is one of the things that led to me being able to cope with the curse which in turn led to this," she gestured to herself.
"Really?"
"Yes, what was it, facing your fears and all that. Well, the owl beast was one of my fears. I know it's not a fond memory but if you saw my petrification ceremony, you saw my beast form before. And I was conscious at that moment, I was transformed but in control. That was not always the case. And the transformations...those sucked, titan they sucked,"
"I can only imagine," they said, "I mean, I can't, but, you get my point."
"But then, thanks to a Hooty being an intrusive but helpful little shit, I ingested sleeping nettles, faced the bastard and, well, turned out they are not that much of a bastard after all."
"They..." Raine looked at her, confused, "wait, the curse... it's...conscious?"
"Yeah, kind of. It's weird to explain, but the owl beast and I are tied for life. And they are not particularly fond of being stuck with me either, but we're making it work. I even got used to the taste of voles!"
"Wait, what?"
"It's part of the deal," she shrugged and Raine decided that they were fine not knowing all the details for now. "But yeah, I can transform, mostly, at will now. It still sometimes flares up when I'm really nervous or upset but, hell, I had two days that were an emotional rollercoaster with only a marginally more elixir than usual and I'm fine. Stuck with wings, though that might just be because I've had them out for a while. But that is fine. I've been dealing with the curse most of my life ever since Lilith...oh dang, you don't know!"
"Know what?"
"Well, Lily is the one...responsible for this," she said as if it's the simplest thing in the world.
"WHAT?" Raine looked towards the house, seemingly read to fight.
"Hey, calm down, Rainstorm, we cleared things out. After we escaped Belos, she shared the curse with me which is why I'm fine now. We still have ways to go but, we're working on it. Despite everything, she is my sister. Also, come on, I have a perfect way to get away with anything. Who needs to do the dishes? Well, Lily, seeing as you cursed me I think you owe me..." she joked, and Raine stared at her incredulously. "Oh dang, was that...too much information."
"It's a...shock. You two seemed to be in such a good place it's a strange thought she...are you really ok?"
"The two of us are fine, don't go fighting my sister, ok. I can do that perfectly well myself if I need to."
"Of course, you can. And if you're fine with it I'll try to be as well," they nodded even if they now felt slightly unsure about Lilith. But, not only did Eda fine with Lilith being around but so did her kids. And if Raine notices one thing about those two, it was that they were even more protective of Eda than Raine was. If Lilith was causing trouble, they knew Luz would be the first on her tail.
"But, honestly," Eda continued, "the kids are those who helped the most. I was not fully honest with them at first. But when they learned, they did not try to run, they didn't shun me, didn't treat me like I'm some fragile thing that needs saving or like the curse is something to rip out or anything like that. They just...took me as I am. Curse and all."
"And why would anyone do any different," Raine said, and suddenly, Eda realized they sat very close to her.
"I should have known you would be accepting too," she said sadly, "I'm sorry I-"
"Hey," they took her hand, and Eda felt her face flush, "it's ok. You were not ready then, I can't fault you for that. I'm glad you are now. Thanks for telling me."
Eda leaned a bit closer and so did Raine, she could feel their breath on her skin, and almost close the distance between them, their lips almost touching.
And then Raine pulled away.
Eda's eyes shot open, "Um, sorry, I shouldn't have! I-"
"Hey, hey," Raine squeezed her hand tighter, "It's ok. I would...I would've liked it. But not right now, with everything we have to plan. Especially with you looking like that, " they blushed deeper, "I'm not sure I'd stay fully functional and we need to, you know..."
Eda smiled lopsidedly, flattered, "Yeah, we need our heads in the game."
"But, once this is all over," Raine said, "I'm willing to give us another shot, we both changed and I think..."
"This time it would work out," Eda finished, knowing her eyes are once again filled with tears. "So, a second chance?"
"I can't think of anything I'd wish more for. Well, aside from conquering Belos," they admitted.
"Ah, Raine whispers, rebel first, romantic soul second. But it' same with me," She wiped a tear from their face and they pressed their cheek into her palm.
"Dang it, look at us, two old saps, aren't we?" she said, pulling away, but their shoulders were still touching.
"Hey, come on, we're not that old," Raine elbowed her slightly.
"My back disagrees! But we're two hot, smart, rebelling old saps. Coven heads, rebellion leaders..."
"Eda, you are not a coven head..."
"How dare you," she feigned offence, "I'm the head of the Bad Girl Coven! The best coven there is!"
They laughed and leaned on her. The pair sat like that for a few minutes watching the sunrise in comfortable silence.
"Raine," Eda said suddenly, her tone serious.
"What is it,"
"Can I ask you for something? Not a favour but...a request. It's more than that, really."
"Eda, you can ask for whatever."
She shifted so she was facing them, stared them intensely in the eyes, "You'll probably hate this but, when the fight starts, when we're up against Belos and those poor bastards that are still loyal to him, I need you to-" her voice broke and she took a deep breath, "If it comes to saving me vs Luz or King and if I can't get to them, I need you to promise me that you will save them. Please. I won't say I don't care what happens to me, I have so much to live for now, but if it's their lives on the line, I need to know they have you in their corner."
Raine stared up at her, wide-eyed, not saying anything for a few moments.
"Raine, please!" tears fell from her eyes, "Look, I'm fine with letting them join but only if I know that if it comes to it, their lives come first. I know it's a lot, but-"
She was cut off by a hug, "Yes," Raine said, "I will...I will make sure they are safe. For you. Fot them," they paused for a moment, "But only if you promise the same to me. If it's between me or my BATS..."
"I'm saving those three rascal's butts first," Eda nodded even as it broke her heart. "Ok. It's a deal."
"Those three...they were just fellow rebels at first but then..." They let go of Eda, wiping tears from under their glasses, "They are all at least 20 years younger than me They are like family. And Derwin is the only one who has some connection to his family, Katya, well, hers doesn't want to see her after she got stuck in conformatorium and Amber...we don't know where exactly she comes from. She is only a few years older than Luz and it seems like she is all alone in the world."
"It's a promise then, Rainstorm. we keep each other kids safe. she felt them nodding and pressed a kiss to their hair. "Is that ok?" she asked as they pulled slightly from a hug, only to stretch and place a peck on her cheek.
"There, we're even now," they said. "Oh, we really are old saps."
"Told you! And we're collecting kids like Pokemon,"
Rain looke at her, confused.
"It's a human metaphor which I still don't get, but I picked it up from Luz," she said making them laugh.
They leaned against her so their back was against her chest and she threw her wing around them, making them blush. This gave her an idea.
"Say, Rainstorm, how are you at holding your breath?"
"You know I'm good? Why? What do you want us to go steal?"
"Hey, I'm more than just a thief!" She swatted them playfully, "Now, two more questions! One, do you trust me? And two, Are you afraid of heights?"
"Yes and no," Raine answered, wondering where Eda was going with this.
"Ok," shs saind and scooped them up, "Hold you breath and hold on, we're going up."
"Oh titan," Raine said, throwing their arms around Eda's neck, their voice tight with excitement.
"Ready?"
"Mh-mmm!"
"Ok, deep breath, and let's go!" the two took deep breaths as she tapped a glyph she held in her right hand. As the disappeared, she soared into the sky. It was a strange feeling, flying invisible, and she felt Raine cling to her tighter. She flew through the rays of the first-morning sun, out of the bounds of Darius' estate. The area was deserted, with woods surrounding it, and low clouds engulfing the treetops.
She flew into a cloud and let out a breath for a moment, followed by Raine, they looked into each other's eyes.
"My pocket, I have more glyphs. Just tap it to activate it before we're spotted."
"Ok." they breathed and did as told. The feeling of flying was something special. It was different from flying on the staff. Being invisible while in the air was slightly unnerving, and disorientating. But they were Eda's arms and, invisible or not, those arms made them feel safe.
She landed in front of the house and the two started breathing again before she set them down. They looked at each other, both breathing heavily, Eda especially, but they felt good.
"That was...whoa, that was amazing! Exhilarating!" Raine said, their hir frazzled and their face flushed. "I won't say this around Owlbert, but it's almost better than flying on staff!"
"Well, I'd hope you'd like me carrying you around over my palisman," Eda winked, "Now, let's rejoin the others before they send a search party for us."
They walked back to the house and saw Darius waiting for them on the fence.
"Ah, there you are, we were about to go look for you!" he scowled, "Wait, why do you look like," he looked between Eda's wings and Raine's windswept hair, "Have you two been flying? Of all the idiotic..."
"Hey, hey, calm down pretty-boy, you'll get wrinkles of all you worry, like these!" Eda pointed out her own, "We used invisibility spells, like this!" she demonstrated the use of a glyph. "But it's nice to know you care," she patted him on the shoulder.
"O, right, glyphs..."
"Yeah, glyphs! Told you yesterday, I know how to stay away from authorities. And glyphs just make it even easier..."
The door of the house opened, "...those two probably just went for a walk, they couldn't have gotten far," Lilith came to the balcony, followed by Luz, King and the BATS trio "Oh, there you are!"
"Eda!" Luz and King ran out, following her!
"Hi, mommy Eda!" Amber waved.
"Hey, kids, sorry, didn't want to worry you!"
"Nah, we knew you probably just went somewhere private to talk but it took a while..." Luz said.
"Yeah, we had a lot to discuss," Eda smiled, "But now we got our personal baggage out of the way," she nudged Raine who was side-eying Lilith, "let's go and deal with Belos Baggage!"
The group walked into the house, with Eda lingering behind, Raine waiting for her.
"You coming?"
"I'm just savouring the moment, give me a sec," she said, breathing the morning air in. "Yeah, yeah, I can smell those mice, I'll go get a few later. You know I always keep my side of the deal," she said to someone. With another deep breath, she turned into her regular, whitch form, though the wings were present. "Ugh, drat, You two won't go away without this, huh?" she pulled out a bottle of alixir. "Well, cheers!" she said, drinking it all in one long swig.
the wings disapeared and Eda turned to Raine who almost seemed disappointed.
"What, miss my cooler form already?"
"Oh, you're cool this way too,"
"I know, but the harpy form is cooler! So, still like me, even if I eat mice?"
"Always," they said.
"Yey, lovebirds," Darius called them, "Are you two going to stand there all morning and gaze into each other's eyes, or are you planning on coming to join planing to stop The Day of Unity?"
"All right, all right," Raine laughed, "We're coming!"
"Partypooper," Eda frowned.
"Just. Like. Hexide," Darius said as he walked into the house.
"He is right, we should..."
"I know, I know! Rebellion to plan, palismans to carve, but, hey, We're Rainstorm and Calamity, Cats and Bad Girl Coven!"
Raine smiled back, "If anyone can do it, it's us!"
#the owl house#toh#fanfiction#eda the owl lady#eda clawthorne#raine whispers#luz noceda#darius the owl house#reada#reada angst#reada fluff
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PRAY AWAY THE CAGE
If I were a desperate man, my choices would be different.
My voice would be different.
Perhaps more fit to handle silence, to witness the grave.
I morph today between obvious colors, empty cases, and a long list of reasons I understand.
I understand; so little of what it means to be free.
What it means to be a thing
(living or otherwise)
I sometimes feel like all I am, is paralyzed.
(Trapped in a perpetual stillness)
A little too far outside of reach.
A little too close to what I need.
I need to shove it off my shoulders once again.
(to ritualize another blatant act of blindness)
Madness seeks to overwhelm.
But as I break down now what I’ve been told it means to be human.
I break down barriers that lay before me.
I defy another helpless odd.
Life here, being human, seems to be too lonely to be real.
I fight in constant, brutal battles, like possessions owned will heal.
If you are here, if you are with me; tell me where to turn my head.
Help me learn to find a quiet now that all my friends are dead.
If this is learning like intended, I must have missed my only chance.
I must not ruffle any feathers of the past.
I mustn’t ask, another question.
Remember, I’ve come in peace, I’ve come alone, I’ve come alone and unrelenting.
I may have even come to teach.
It’s not so clear like oceans after rain why living here among the fallen comes with so much pain.
Today we reign, tomorrow we torture.
I’m not insane,
I follow orders.
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Olympique Lyonnais Le Progrès Article (September 28, 2022)
TL:dr version: everyone is dead. You thought I was being sarcastic when I talked about the upcoming translations but no!! I was being literal!
So many questions. Is Lyon going to beat Bayern's record of only having two subs in a Champions League game? Does van de Donk's contract involve a clause regarding Lyon paying for a hot tub if she has to carry the No. 10 position on her back with no reassuring breathing room until January? Does Lyon believe in resurrections or do they think some things are better left buried? More importantly, does Lyon, the author of so many love stories, still believe that love can be absolute if someone loves something other than them?
Jokes aside when you know Lyon well enough you realize what they aren't saying is sometimes as relevant as what they are. Love a team, too, whose definition of love is pure but also complex. I'm telling you. You can search as much as you want. You won't find another team like you. They're a once in a lifetime kind of locking eyes with a stranger during your wedding reception and thinking "ah, shit." So, like, by all means. Get involved with another team. Watch someone else! But on a cold and rainy day, when you're putting off doing laundry or cleaning your apartment or whatever, sit down and watch a team who only writes love stories because they desperately want someone to see them for who they are. Just... watch them. They can be really good for you, I promise.
Unrelated: if anyone has any good pumpkin pie recipes (from scratch) to recommend, please do shoot them my way.
Already exhausted, OL women is getting ready to confront a rough month of October.
Crippled by injuries at the beginning of the 2022-2023 after a draining summer, Sonia Bompastor's OL will once again be strongly solicited in October, with the return of the Champions League.
Back in training this Wednesday morning in Décines [physical location of Lyon's training group], after four days off for the international players following the Montpellier game, the Lyon players worked on ball control for the third open session to the public. This involved about 50 supporters, who suffered through the rain to wish a happy 33rd birthday to Amandine Henry.
"The players got to recharge with their families, it did them a lot of good. The core players only got about 10 days vacations following the Euros and other international competitions, which was a really short period in terms of optimal recovery considering the exhaustion on a mental and physical level. We timed it so they would get the weekend off while the beached were still open. We're handling this start of the season as if it were the end of a season," Sonia Bompastor pointed out.
Sara Dabritz and Ada Hegerberg absent
Out of the group of 24 players, there were two notable absences besides the longterm injuries of M'Bock, Carpenter, Macaario, Marozsan and Majri. Sara Dabritz, who received an ankle injury last Thursday in training, has not rejoined the group. The German midfielder, who had an MRI this Wednesday afternoon, will soon know how long she will be out for.
Another player missing during roll-call: Ada Hegerberg. The Norwegian forward, who received a huge knock on the left leg with the national team at the beginning of September, returned to Lyon Tuesday night after having spent three weeks in Sweden with her husband. "We'll see each other for the first time this week, and then another time next week and we will make a decision together about how to set in place a protocol for her," the OL head coach elaborated.
Vanessa Gilles expected mid-November
Sonia Bompastor will however recuperate Eugenie Le Sommer, who participated in modified training this Wednesday after having received "a hell of a knock on the thigh in Montpellier," back in training with the group this Thursday to prepare for the final stretch.
Suffering from a quad injury and rehabbing since her arrival at the club some ten days ago, Canadian defender Vanessa Gilles will not participate in group training before mid-November. "We'll try and cope until then, knowing that's the optimistic version," Bompastor added, thrilled to have let her players "catch their breath a little" before the final push. Before taking on a packed month of October**, "with a grueling schedule of one match every three games, between the Champions League and the [French] league."
** This is excluding the international break, so Lyon is going to be truly gassed.
#all good love stories start in the rain#it's going to be 2035 and I am still going to be begging people to just get a cup of coffee and WATCH this team#as I have so often said#fuck off with your parity bullshit I just want to be better than the others#but let's TALK about how you get to that point
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NSFW Content Warning
Word Count: 1.6k
Megumi watches closely as the curse disintegrates in the mouth of his divine dog. The last of the monsters are dispatched, and Megumi can finally relax as the heavy pressure around him slowly disappears. The veil opens up to an unrelenting sky—rain finally falling down on the town for the first time in months thanks to the curse’s destruction.
His sharp gaze glances down to find you kneeling next to him, your hand buried deep in the black fur of his shikigami. “Who’s a good boy? You are. I’ll make sure Megumi feeds you lots of treats,” you praise to a happily obedient demon dog, his tongue hanging out from a joyful smile while his fluffy tail wags back in forth in tempo to your pets. Megumi huffs, rolling his eyes lightly at your antics, which causes you to glance up at him with a smile.
With an innocent grin, you plop your hand right on top of his head. He groans softly as you begin to ruffle black hair into a further mess as if such a thing was possible given his questionable hairstyle. “You too, Megumi. Good boy.”
“Cut it out.” Megumi grunts, shaking your hand off of him.
“Aw, but it’s so soft,” you say with a childlike coo causing him to turn his head out your reach as you pout about him being no fun.
If there’s one thing Megumi hates more than missions with Gojo then it would be missions with you, his 3rd year senpai. You aren’t necessarily bossy or prying, and you are definitely skilled in your technique, and there’s the bonus that you’re the only third-year who didn’t get suspended, but he couldn’t stand the way you treated him like a child even if he is younger than you. You’d always baby him and coo over him. It’s innocent on your end so he can’t get too mad, but he still wishes you wouldn’t do it.
As the rainy weather begins to grow heavier and cause his clothes to cling coldly to his naked skin, Megumi sighs and releases his technique. “We should get moving before we end up stuck here.”
“Right behind you,” you state, following alongside him.
As you reach the town again, the rain had developed into a full-blown storm, where seeing ahead of yourself is near impossible as everything comes down sideways and lightning cracks over the sky.
“You might want to hold my hand, so you don’t blow away,” you jokingly sing, your voice getting lost in the gust of winds. Megumi ignores your comment until he sees you stumble backward with another strong blow.
“Here,” he says, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you along with him because he’s really afraid you might actually blow away if this weather continues. You walk until the two of you manage to make it to a bus stop.
The two of you manage to huddle together temporarily under a bus stop shelter as Megumi tries to get in contact with your ride. You eye him patiently as he talks on the phone with Ijichi. The area is much too dangerous for someone to pick you up right now, all the missing rain coming down at once. Luckily, Gojo managed to call in a room for you at a local hotel.
The two of you walk into the room, finding it comfortable and warm compared to the cold and rain outside even as the lights occasionally flash and the ceiling fan shakes.
The only thing that bothers Megumi is the fact that there is one singular king-size bed in the center of the room. “Of course, there is,” Megumi grumbles, already warming at the idea of having to share a bed with his cute senpai and also thinking of how he’s going to punch Gojo for messing up so bad. Megumi guesses he can ask the front desk for extra sheets so he can take the floor instead of risk waking up with a hard-on and embarrassing himself.
“I’m going to go request extra sheets. You want anything?”
“What do you mean? This bed is huge, we can share no problem,” you say, and Megumi notices that your voice sounds fairly distant. He turns to see you standing in front of the hotel’s dryer. You cross your arms at the edge of your shirt and stretch to pull it over your head, your breasts raising with your arms as you arch your back.
Megumi instantly blushes.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
You blink once then twice before motioning to the wet shirt in your hands. “Drying my clothes?” you say, tossing the shirt in the dryer before going for your skirt but you pause when Megumi voices another complaint.
“Can’t you do that in the bathroom?” he asks.
“I want them dry when I get out the shower,” you answer, your lips poked out in an adorable pout as you look at him with innocent puppy eyes. “You should take yours off too before the wet dog smell sets in,” you recommend teasingly before closing the distance and grabbing his shirt.
Megumi shakes, his mind instantly dropping into the muck of the gutter as he hastily looks anywhere but directly at you, standing half-naked and alone in the room with him with your hands dangerously close to his body. You were so oblivious to the danger you put yourself in. If he was any other sort of man, he’d already tried to have his way with you.
“Your senpai will throw it in the dryer for you.”
Then, he remembers.
You’re being reckless because he’s your underclassman, unwary because you see him as a child to be taken cared of. It frustrates him but he’s too embarrassed to call you out on it. That is until you start to pull his shirt up to expose his smooth skin underneath, his pelvic lines and the thin line of stomach hair drawing to his crotch, and he prays for his dick not to rise with your hands so close to it.
”Senpai…you shouldn’t do that,” Megumi mumbles, a light blush on his cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, head cocked to the side.
“It’s just…” he pauses, unsure how to word the fact that you’re dangerously close to turning him on, “…I’m a man too.”
Megumi can feel himself grow more embarrassed as you blink at him. The wheels in your head are obviously turning to comprehend what he’s said, and Megumi instantly regrets saying anything.
Then, you smile, not the usual sweet girlish smile he comes to expect from his senpai. It’s crooked, wickedly amused but somehow seductive in a way that makes him gulp as you lean close towards him.
Megumi shudders as your breath blows on his ear, and you whisper, “Are you now? Then, show me.”
“I don’t—”
You repeat yourself more forcefully as your hand slowly slides down to press against his cock outlining, and you purposely press your breasts to his dampened chest. “Show your senpai how much of a man you are, my cute little underclassman.”
Megumi licks his lips, eyes focused on your cleavage pushing together against him. He releases a calming breath. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You can only smile.
Megumi whines, hands gripped tight into your plump thighs, sinking into your meaty flesh in attempts to hold back your aggressive grinding but to no avail. His cock is sunk into your center, the sound of your wet pussy sucking in his girthy length echoing in his ears along with your heady moans.
You don’t stop the rutting of your hips, no matter how much those beautifully deep moans of his break upon exit from his lips and his emerald eyes tear up from the overstimulation of coming one too many times. His balls are aching, drained empty, and the strain of them tensing as he closes in on another peak echoes each time you impale down to the hilt, smacking them with your ass.
The only thing distracting him more is the strong, desperate throbbing in your silken walls as you grip around him, making it impossible for him to pull out despite the way your wetness creams and lubes around his erection.
With another groan, his throat constricts while his feet begin to cramp with his desperate squirming underneath you as he tries to gain some semblance of control, but you weren’t even giving him time to breathe, let alone turn you over and pin you.
As for you, you look absolutely blissed out with your hazy gaze locked on his beautiful face coated with sweat as he fails to hide his pitiful whimpers by biting into his bruised lips. He already knows it’s no use trying to preserve his pride, as you’ve already gotten one warning about how loud he was being, but he still tries so he can at least say you didn’t completely overwhelm him.
Yet it’s with a broken gasp that he comes for the fourth time. This time he provides a dry orgasm, his body too sore and drained too quickly to give any more. You didn’t pause, refusing to let him catch up.
Smirking, you lift off him instead, his softened cock still connected to your pussy by a thin white string of leftover cum. Megumi grits his teeth, releasing a hiss as your hand wraps around him again despite the protest his body is giving as you work him back into a premature stiffness.
“Come on, Megumi, don’t tell me you’re tapping out already. You’re a man, aren’t you,” you tease in between soft giggling. Flushed, Megumi hesitantly meets your eyes, and you give him one of those trademark sweet and innocent smiles as your hand begins to twist.
It’s then he realizes that his innocent senpai is actually a demon.
#megumi smut#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk megumi#notsfw#adelssmut
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txt as fearless (taylor’s version)
NOT PROOFREAD but I hope you enjoy; thanks again to @lethekoo
soobin as white horse
“I should’ve known that I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairytale, I’m not the one you’ll sweep of her feet”
when I was brainstorming, I literally listed all the fairytale ones for soobin because he really does remind me of a prince
and yeah he would probably beg for forgiveness if he fucked up even if it was multiple times whoops
hueningkai as you belong with me
“dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find that what you’re looking for has been here this whole time”
yeah oblivious athlete hueningkai agenda
he wouldn’t have a clue if his bestie was in love with him–he’d probably notice the signs but dismiss them and say they were unrelated 😎🤙
yeonjun as the way I loved you
“I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, and it’s 2 a.m. and I’m cursing your name”
yeah okay I don’t know how great of a boyfriend yeonjun would be but he would definitely be the one that got away for multiple people
he’d probably give his s/o the time of their life in like two months and then when it ends it leaves them feeling empty
maybe that’s just me though rip
taehyun as superstar
“I’m no one special, just another wide-eyed girl who’s desperately in love with you”
this one is PERSONAL 🤗🤗 /j
BUT THIS ALSO APPLIES EVEN IF HE WASN’T AN IDOL because he seems like he would be loved by everyone and if you liked him he’d always like you a little less than he did you
yeah idk what else to say it seems a little self explanatory
beomgyu as the other side of the door
“I said ‘leave’ but really all I want is you to stand outside my window throwing pebbles screaming ‘I’m in love with you’”
if his s/o broke up with him, they’d change their mind 🙄🙄 he’s simply too amazing
but beomgyu would need it spelled out for him; he couldn’t read between the lines if he TRIED
in general I think a relationship with him would be passionate as hell so the bridge works too 🤝
enhypen version ☆ reputation version ☆ masterlist
#💋these are so fun#tomorrow x together#txt#yeonjun#soobin#beomgyu#taehyun#hueningkai#txt imagines#txt fluff#txt reactions#choi yeonjun#choi soobin#choi beomgyu#kang taehyun#hueningkai txt#tomorrow x together reactions#hoes4hoseok
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All I Have To Do Is Dream
Pairing: Steve x Reader, Telepath! Reader (X-men reader)
Summary: It’s been five years since the snap. You and Steve are stuck at an impasse. You want a family, he doesn’t. He says he’s moved on but has he really? With your doubts growing, you consider risking his trust and use your powers on him to get your answers once and for all.
Author’s note: I know I’ve been gone for so long, I’m sorry!! I loved these requests and decided to merge them together. Took a while to write, I haven’t had much inspiration. I’ll keep this short and hope you enjoy this!! Let me know what you think!
Requests: hi!! first of all i adore your writing (esp. betrayal)!! id willingly chop two of my limbs in exchange of ur writing skills hahah!! can you maybe write a oneshot similar to take my breath away, and the reader and steve are dating, but they’re actually in steve’s dream(like in age of ultron) and she is sad that steve’s still hasn’t moved on from peggy?? and can you make it extra angsty?? sorry if this is too much hehe!! thanks btw :))
Hmmm maybe angst w/ Steve or Bucky where a misunderstanding/bad fight leads to the reader leaving the team?
“Damn it, Steve! Would you just listen? Where the hell are you even going?” your voice boomed around your small apartment as you breathed harshly, trying your best not to pull your hair out of frustration.
At first, it had all been just petty disagreements, you and Steve letting off some steam after the snap happened. You had thought it was normal at the time, a coping mechanism that needed to be flushed out of your systems never expecting that it would last for as long as it has. Five freakin’ years. By now, you would’ve thought you’d realize how lucky you were to still be alive, to still be together while others couldn’t say the same. And yet...
“Geez, Y/N. I am! For the past 30 minutes! And I’m telling you now what I’ve told you from the start, I am not ready! You gotta give me more time, doll.” He replied, his voice just a tad calmer than yours but you didn’t miss the tick in his jaw as he walked out of your shared room, shrugging into his jacket. You knew his anger was just brewing inside, ready to attack if you pushed just a little bit harder. After countless back-and-forths, this had become a routine between the two of you with Steve always taking the role of the aggrieved party, ending arguments with an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes before he walked away, deciding he had something better to do with his precious time than fight with you. While you, on the other hand, always found that more infuriating, making you impatient and mean, baiting and nagging him until you wouldn’t even recognize the shrill and whine to your own voice.
“And when would that even be? It’s been five years since the snap. When will—”
“Don’t you dare bring that up!” his voice rose, eyes glaring at you as he whirled around, his jaw clenched. “Don’t use that excuse on me, you know damned well I know it. Why do you think I chose to move on and be with you instead of helping Nat bring them all back, hmm?” He continued mockingly as if you were stupid enough not to understand.
This was it, what all your petty arguments had narrowed down into;
Despite what he said, he still wasn’t ready to settle down.
“But what the hell are we doing now, Steve? We’re not getting any younger! I want to have kids, a family, with you!” You knew you sounded pathetic, and desperate all at the same time but you couldn’t help but continue, the pretty picture already clouding your brain,
“Can’t you see it? Having children of our own, their drawings hung up on the walls, the dog you’ve been wanting to have since forever running around the house, family barbecues...” your voice trailed off, a lump forming in your throat, your eyes glazing over with unshed tears. It was all within your grasp, so easily reachable if only Steve agreed with you. If only he wanted it too. Anger bubbled up to the surface while he bristled, looking annoyed.
“We can have all of that, you know. What are you even waiting for? Will you ever be ready? Because it really feels like you won’t and I’m the only one who actually wants this,” You were unrelenting, thinking of Tony Stark’s family, how they had gone off the grid and had their own little piece of heaven. Crossing your arms, you knew you wouldn’t achieve anything by becoming a nag but your patience was already wearing thin.
“Jesus, Y/N! Why would you even say that? Of course I want a family with you! I’m just not ready for that yet! Just give me more time,”
Shaking your head, you let out a defeated sigh and looked away from him. You could hear him grabbing the keys from the counter, exhaling loudly before he went up to you and ran his hands down your arms soothingly, willing you to understand. When you didn’t budge, he just pleaded as he always had,
“I love you, you know I love you. But I need to get to this meeting, those people need me, Y/N. Could we please just talk about this later?” He moved his head lower to meet your eyes and even in your state of anger, you knew you couldn’t say no to that. He took your begrudged nod as an assent, kissing your forehead before he turned to leave. What else were you going to say anyway? He was going to lead a therapy session for people who had lost their loved ones. Guilt ate at you for keeping him here when he so desperately wanted to save the world. People needed him too, not just you. They hung on his every word. They needed their Captain America, their symbol of hope. While, here you were, acting like a child because he wouldn’t let you have your way.
Letting out another sigh, your gaze stuck to the floor, berating yourself at how selfish you’d become. You knew what you were getting into when you dated him. You had no illusions of being the center of his universe, it was always going to be the people. But still, it would’ve been nice to be put first for once. You hated the tandem feelings of jealousy and guilt that always crept up on you after your fights. You just wished he understood that while those people needed their hero, you needed your Steve too. But as time passed, it seemed like the man and the hero were indistinguishable and you’d been deluding yourself into thinking it could be different. You’d just have to accept that too because living without him wouldn’t even be an option.
He paused by the door, catching sight of your slumped shoulders. “Hey,” he said softly, striding back to you.
“You know I love you, right?” he stroked your cheeks and you couldn’t help the turn of your lips. Nodding slowly, you rolled your eyes at how easy you were for him.
“I know. I’m sorry,”
Ducking down to give you a quick peck on the lips, he reassured you again, “We’ll talk about this later, I promise,” then he gave you one last kiss to your forehead before he disappeared. But what once would’ve eased your worries did nothing to quell your nerves now. Your heart believed everything was alright but your gut said otherwise.
_______________
He looked down at the worn, brassy compass in his palm, his mind years away from where he was, unaware that you were standing by the door. You watched his shoulders relax into a defeated sigh, his eyes never leaving her picture. You couldn’t remember when he ever looked at you like that, all the love and longing etched on his face. He brought his other hand up to caress the picture gently, as if he actually imagined she was with him, a small, sad smile forming on his lips. You felt the air knock right out of you while you scrambled out of there feeling as if you’ve intruded on an intimate moment. You couldn’t help the tears falling from your eyes while you convinced yourself it was nothing. He had just lost his best friends, she was a symbol of his past. He just missed that right?
You paced around the kitchen, your mind running back to the times you’ve caught him staring at Peggy’s picture. All those times you pretended you didn’t notice how frequently he had been doing it these past few years. His voice, an echo in your head,
“I’m not ready, just give me more time doll, please,”
Closing your eyes, you buried your face in your hands. Oh, it would be so easy, you thought. All you had to do was get into his mind and see for yourself. One little, fast trip into his thoughts and you’d get your answers. He’d be none the wiser, no one need ever know except you. And your dignity, and your pride and your principles. Ugh.
He trusted you, you promised never to use your powers on him and yet, that was all you could ever think about now. Did he think of her when he thought of the family he wanted? Was it her face he saw, walking down the aisle to him?
For the first time in your life, you hated your upbringing at the Xavier Institute. You hated the values and principles they instilled in you, the very reason you were adamant not to use your powers on the unwilling and unsuspecting for your own personal gain even though you were going crazy, craving for your own peace of mind. Deep down you knew, promise to Steve or no, you couldn’t go through with it.
You looked at the clock, thirty minutes to go before his meeting ended. Grabbing your coat from the rack, you impulsively decided to go to him, promising yourself you weren’t going to nag and argue with him but have a normal conversation like you used to. You haven’t had a date in a long while anyway. Maybe a little spark of romance was all you really needed.
_____________
Your steps echoed on the linoleum floor, walking past the empty hall to follow the directions to the room where the meeting took place. Rubbing your palms together, you spotted the room. The fluorescent lights hanging above casting a lonely pallor to the already gray walls while the rain poured heavily outside. The gloom, an inevitable reminder of what the world has become. It seemed everywhere people went, there was always a reminder of what they’ve lost. Even on an otherwise unblemished sunny day, the vibrancy was not the same, people were scarce and it was quiet. Too quiet. Which was why you were so adamant to continue on living, in order to honor the lives of the people you’ve lost.
You could hear their faint voices outside the room. Your heart going out to those poor people who still held onto the past while you thanked your lucky stars you still had Steve.You fished for your earphones in your purse trying not to eavesdrop but his clear and deep voice interrupted you. Leaning against the wall opposite the door, you listened, a smile tugging on your lips while he commended the other person. He was always so good with words, always knew the right things to say and that never failed to make you proud. His words of encouragement lifted your spirits, making you stand a little taller, hope blossoming in the pit of your stomach. He talked about moving on, about finding purpose again.
“I went in the ice in ‘45 right after I met the love of my life,”
Your whole body went cold, the smile on your lips faltering, your hands suddenly gripping the edge of your blouse while his disheartened voice continued to try to reassure everyone including himself,
“I woke up 70 years later, you gotta move on. You gotta move on,”
With a hand to your lips, you ran, your rapid, staccato steps filling the hall barely even muffling the sobs you desperately tried to hide.
___________
Steve didn’t bother coming home straightaway after the meeting. He told himself it was because he needed to check up on Nat despite the fact that he could’ve easily just called, despite knowing you were all supposed to meet for dinner in a few days anyway. He took his time getting to the Avengers Compound, embracing the uncharacteristic quietness of the city, giving him the chance to be alone with his thoughts. If he were being honest with himself, he couldn’t shake off the guilt that settled at the pit of his stomach at the thought of Peggy. The love of his life. Apparently, anyway. He had no idea where that came from, never really thought of it until it slipped from his mouth. And did he really feel that way? Was she really the love of his life?
The thought of you came unbidden from his mind, your warm smile waking him up in the morning, your laughter setting the world to rights whenever he was feeling especially out of place. You’ve been through so much together, what you both had was real and it was beyond anything he could’ve imagined when he woke up from the ice and he knew he should take it a step further. He loves you, he is fully committed to you. There was nothing holding him back and yet… and yet, he still thought of her. He couldn’t help but think that if he had only stayed where he really was supposed to be, Peggy would’ve been the mother to his children, she would’ve been his wife. She would’ve been his life’s true love. But the very thought of that put a sour taste to his mouth, the truth was he could never picture his life without you. As much as he still dreamt of the past, how could it be the same if you weren’t there?
At first he thought falling in love with you was a balm to soothe his lost soul until he eventually realized you had crept up on him slowly but in a span of a heartbeat, wormed your way into his heart so suddenly he couldn’t even pinpoint the exact moment he knew he loved you. It was plain and simple, he knew it as he knew the sun rose in the east, he loved you. It was so unlike the way he fell for Peggy where all it took was one look and he was already drunk in love.
Was it possible then, to be in love with two women?
________________________________________
You were already in bed when Steve got home, feigning tiredness from the day when your heart was really beating rapidly in your chest. How could you face him now knowing you were second best? You could hear him in the bathroom, oblivious to your inner turmoil. When he was done, he gave you a quick kiss goodnight and went to his side of the bed, his back to you. You turned to face the wide expanse of his shoulders and wondered where the hell do you go from here. Would you really be alright living in the shadow of his ex, one of the world’s most accomplished women, so extraordinary that Captain America couldn’t even move on from her? Could you really leave him if it came down to it?
A tear escaped the corner of your eye and you laid on your back, the darkness of the ceiling reflecting the heaviness in your heart. You must’ve stared at it for hours, wondering just how far away you were from the man right at your side. He was with you physically but his heart? You always knew deep down, it belonged to someone else. If he had a choice to go back, would he leave you? With the way things were going, you knew he would. In an instant. There was always a part of him that he closed off from you and ever since the snap, it only worsened. The fights, the distance, it all made sense now. Heck, even tonight, he didn’t even bother to ask how you were doing and accepted your lame excuse to get to bed early. It was the weekend, you literally had nothing to do the whole day and yet, it never even occurred to him that something could be wrong. For once, you were sorely tempted to use your powers on him. Hearing his even breathing as he slept didn’t make it any easier. It would be over before he knew it, what would be the harm in that?
As if on cue, he turned and faced you. His long lashes resting peacefully on his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, he looked like a man who didn’t carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked younger, more like your Steve. The Steve you wished would let you in and give you the family you’ve always wanted.
“Just a quick little trip, no one would ever know. What would be the harm in that?” the little voice in the back of your head taunted.
What would be the harm in that?
With your resolve weakening, you jumped right into the abyss, entering the mind of the man of your dreams, hoping you were his too.
______
The sun shone brightly through the open window, letting in the warm summer breeze while his favorite vinyl record played in the background.
Kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It’s been a long long time
The air was crisp and the smell of pancakes and cinnamon wafted from the doorway of the kitchen into the living room of the small, suburban house. The yellow walls were adorned with children’s drawings with a few marker drawings on the wallpaper here and there. The faint sound of giggling could just be heard from where you stood by the stairs. Your children, you thought to yourself, a smile creeping up your lips. This was it. This was what you’ve been picturing too, what you’ve told him countless times over and over again. He dreamed of it too. You turned your attention to the living room, your heart giving a little leap at the mess. It looked like someone had tried to tidy up but gave up on the last minute, some toys still scattered about. You noticed the pet bed by the couch, and you couldn’t help but be excited and hopeful, it was everything you thought of down to a T. You went towards the paper and crayons on the low table between the couch and the fireplace, inspecting one of the children’s current drawings there. It was of a family, their hands holding each other while they smiled in front of the house, a little dog at their father’s side. At the bottom, a scribbly handwriting of a preschooler wrote; Mom, Sarah, James, Dad and directly below the dog, Sam. You laughed aloud at that, clutching the drawing, hoping you could keep it for yourself and willing it into existence.
“Come on, dance with me,”
You heard Steve’s playful voice coming from the kitchen. A woman’s laughter rang out, you could just imagine yourself shaking your head at him in response, but something about the woman’s laugh caught you in your tracks. A little too shrill, a little too melodic. You inched closer to the open door, your heart dropping to your stomach. There they were, the picture perfect couple. He twirled her around, her red dress hugging her curves so effortlessly, while she drew her head back and laughed. The dimples on her cheeks deepening, her curls staying in place even when Steve maneuvered her around. They looked so beautiful together, his golden locks and smitten smile never once leaving her face, he never looked so happy.
Not even when he was with you.
That realization hit you like a train. You couldn’t even remember the last time he looked at you the way he looked at Peggy now. When was the last time you danced? When was the last time you acted silly together? When was the last time you were both happy? That was what hurt the most. You couldn’t even remember. It felt like a weird sort of deja vu except now, it was an actual woman instead of a picture on a compass. You tried to gather your pride and step away but you couldn’t, you were rooted into place, a sadistic part of you welcomed the pain because you should’ve known.
“I went in the ice in ‘45 right after I met the love of my life,”
You should’ve known.
But instead, you choose to play the fool.
There must’ve been a shift in the air that only they understood because Steve gathered her in his arms now, their eyes locking into each other, gentle and longing.
You'll never know how many dreams
I dreamed about you
Or just how empty they all seemed without you
So kiss me once then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It's been a long, long time
He rocked her back and forth, bringing her hand up to his chest, turning into action what words fail to describe. She closed her eyes and laid her head on his heart, savoring their moment. He leaned his head on hers too, a satisfied smile on both their faces as they continued to sway to the music. You had never felt as small as you did now. You felt like a thief, intruding on their moment, stealing his dream away. And that’s exactly what you were doing. That’s exactly what you are. You felt so dirty, a desperate, pathetic fly on the wall he couldn’t get rid of. And worst of all, you destroyed his trust too.
As if on cue, the colors started to change, the song distorting and shifting and in this moment you knew, you had to leave.
You have to leave.
Part Two
#steve rogers x reader#steve x reader#captain america x reader#steve rogers angst#steve rogers#steve rogers fic#steggy#the avengers#marvel#captain america
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thunder - ksj | m
your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls
↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year. apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.
↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw
↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader
↳ word count- 6k
↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy
↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk
↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia for hyping me up to post it in the first place. thank u to @shadowsremedy for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!
“Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud.
“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”.
You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour.
“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.
He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face.
Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor.
“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?”
Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.
Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite.
Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously.
“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.”
You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises.
“How about we just go back the way we came from?” You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log.
“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!” He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious.
“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”
“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest.
Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike.
You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with.
You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence.
You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid.
Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.
Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it.
You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt.
So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart.
You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.
A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound.
“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”
You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”
He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.”
You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead.
“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”
“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack.
“Let’s run?”
You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched.
You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin.
The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles.
You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment.
It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible.
“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter. He nodded in agreement.
“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”
You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant.
In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it.
The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life. Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you. The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.
Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.
You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest.
Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own. Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy.
“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked.
“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”
Your cheeks flushed.
“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?”
Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”
You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect.
“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.
“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed. “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”
You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.
“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.
You couldn’t help but bark a laugh.
“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head. “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”
Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”
“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man. Please, god, please be jealous.
“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”
Ouch.
You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.
“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence.
“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”
Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.
The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.
“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.
“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.
“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood. You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.
Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.
A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.
“No!”
You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.
“What the fuck am I going to do?!”
Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.
“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out. But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.”
You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’. And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.
“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”
Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.
“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”
You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.
Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.
If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary.
“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully.
You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too.
You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.
“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”
He wrinkled his forehead.
“You sure?”
You bit your lip and nodded.
“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”
“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”
You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you.
It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order. Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly.
Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth.
The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.
Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold.
Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.
It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered.
Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth.
“Shit, are you okay?” He asked.
“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”
Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply.
You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.
Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips.
It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.
His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.
at the column of your throat.
As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts.
He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.
You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.
Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.
It was still dark when you woke.
The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him.
His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma.
You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.
You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you.
“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.”
He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone.
You shook your head.
“Don’t know.”
Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you.
“You look so cute in the moonlight.”
You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover.
You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips.
The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.
The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast.
“Seokjin,” you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”
He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.
“If you want me to stop, tell me.”
His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.
Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.
“Please, don’t stop.”
He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears. You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.
He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it.
You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.
“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”
“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.
“Have you?”
“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”
Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.
“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”
You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.
“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”
He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.
“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”
He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.
“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.
“Fuck me, please,” you begged.
And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.
His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls. You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.
“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”
He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you. Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.
“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”
You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.
“Oh—God, Jin!”
As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.
He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence. He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.
It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.
“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”
“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”
The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.
“You’re mine now, you got that?”
His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.
“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”
He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.
Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.
“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away.
It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.
“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”
“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”
He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.
“I only want you. No one else.”
It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.
“I’m all yours.”
There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.
“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.
The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.
Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.
“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”
Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.
“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..
Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.
“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”
There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.
His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.
“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”
Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.
“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”
A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips. The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.
“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt. His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss. “You feel so fucking good.”
You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement. He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain. After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”
You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.
“Jin,” you breathed.
He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips. He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat. He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.
“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”
You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound. Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter. He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.
“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”
You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees. Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.
“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”
Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought. Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.
Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.
“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”
He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.
“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”
The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions. Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside. You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.
Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace. He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.
“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can���t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”
Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock. Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”
The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush. Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.
Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end.
The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight. It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.
Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock. With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel. Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside.
He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls. He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.
“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees. He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.
Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.
A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.
“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.
You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.
“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”
Jin pouted and huffed.
“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”
#bts smut#kim seokjin#seokjin smut#seokjin x reader#ficswithluv#kim seokjin smut#jin smut#bts fan fic#bts imagines#bts fic#bangtanarmynet
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For @polarcell
Nicolò, my heart –
It is hard to write of my love for you while my fingers are numb with cold, but this is my fate in this godforsaken wilderness. How I wish you were here to chafe my hands and scold me for my mood, to coax the fire into helpfulness, and curl with me in our bed.
I think of you, minute by minute, when I sleep and when I wake. My body feels your absence so keenly, and aches to have the means to gather you close. I miss the scent of your skin, the fall of your hair, the curve of your belly. I miss the reassurance of your gaze, the quirk of your lips, your smallest smile and warmest laugh. The cadence of your voice echoes in my mind, narrating the why and wherefore of our actions, and I know this distance is for a worthy cause. Yet I cannot help my heart, which yearns for you. I am but a fragment of myself, only whole when you are near. I am angular and il-fitted to this place, and I long for your gentling touch. To see you smile . . . it would be the fulfillment of my every wish.
It is my greatest comfort to imagine your quick wit and agile mind untangling the knots and snags of this employment. Let our next action be somewhere warm, with our sisters at our side. My restless heart longs to heal beneath the sunlight of your company.
My love, I am yours with a depth of affection that will outlast this life.
Yusuf
Dearest Yusuf –
My love, before you read ahead, do me the kindness of stoking the fire. You need not ration what you have—we will be reunited before this month has passed—and I would not have your lovely hands suffer for want of warmth. I will wait for you here.
You have done as I asked?
You are the center of my world, my heart, and I miss you with a desperation I can barely quiet. Yet I cannot deny myself the most basic comforts when I know your misery would increase with such neglect. When I heat my rooms, I think of your smile; I pile a blanket on the bed in anticipation of your approbation. Should I dispense with my umbrella in this unrelenting rain and walk until my shirt is soaked despite my coat, you would scold me soundly. Do not inflict pain upon yourself for want of contentment, tesoro. Imagine the ease of my heart to know you are caring for yourself as I would were I there.
Do not think that I do not feel your absence as keenly for all of my measured prose. I love you from the very marrow of my bones to the ink-stained whorls of my fingertips. I long for you with a want that obliterates sense. Were it possible to ride north now, despite all we have worked for, I would do it in a moment so that I might see your face and know the deep joy of your company. That it is not yet possible pains me, and yet I know this path is just.
By carrier today, I have heard that our sisters are returned from France. Our solitude will soon be transformed into union and I smile to imagine it, to see in my mind’s eye the beauty of your smile.
Hold steady, my handsome, dearly beloved Yusuf.
Yours, forever.
Nicolò
#joe x nicky#kaysanova#yusuf al kaysani#nicolo di genova#tog#the old guard#I have a feeling this is going to turn into an entire fic
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20 WOMEN VOCALISTS IN METAL WHO ARE A DRIVING FORCE FOR THE GENRE
Lzzy Hale
If you haven’t heard of the colossal Halestorm and their show-stealing frontlady Lzzy Hale by now, how’s it been living under that rock? Out here in the real world, both rock and metal have been battling to claim Halestorm and Hale’s presence since the band’s first EP, (Don’t Mess With The) Time Man, in 1999. From the vitriolic masochism of “I Miss The Misery” to the heart-wrenching “Here’s To Us,” Hale’s vocal range reaches each extreme of moving emotion and devastating attitude. We couldn’t pay tribute to Hale without also recognizing her guitar talents. Check the sassy leading line from “Love Bites (So Do I)” as an example of this phenomenal lady’s ability to step beyond musical expression and into aural artistry.
SKYND
True crime has never been more compelling than at the hands of Australian electronic-metal sensation SKYND and their mystifying frontwoman of the same name. Tackling a new real-life mystery with each track, covering the disappearance and mysterious death of “Elisa Lam” and the doomed cult following of “Jim Jones,” SKYND’s haunting vocals tell each tale as if they were acting out in front of you. SKYND’s dedication to her theatrical persona (plus the ability to keep her real identity a secret), her iconic look and the creation of lore around her exposition of real-life crimes is a mystery the metal world may never solve, but perhaps it never should.
Taylor Momsen
Gossip Girl? We don’t know her—we know Taylor Momsen as the sultry tones commanding metal’s sassiest frontrunners the Pretty Reckless. With her gravelly vocals offset by her signature blacked-out eyes and suspenders, Momsen is an all-around powerhouse frontlady who bends all of your stereotypical expectations of a female vocalist. Take the hissing attitude of “Make Me Wanna Die,” the iconic summer anthem through “Messed Up World (F’d Up World),” the doomed “Going To Hell” and the gloriously filthy “My Medicine”—she’s not here for your entertainment, simply to make music in her own inimitable devil-may-care way.
Sharon den Adel
Where symphonic-metal outfits go through vocalists like water, Within Temptation’s Sharon den Adel has held on to her throne at the very beating heart of the genre since 1996. The band that introduced you to the dark side in high school has come a long way from “Angels” and “Our Farewell” to their most recent sensation “The Purge,” but the enduring talents of the angelic den Adel at the helm remain as moving as ever. Whether your heart breaks or races along with the captivating stories told through her cherubic vocals, den Adel’s talents have kept this legendary band alive and relevant for 25 years. We’re hanging on the edge of our seats for a new album.
Amy Lee
Most millennials were introduced to the world of metal through Evanescence’s invasion of radio airtime in the early 2000s, making vocalist Amy Lee an initial encounter in female presence in a heavily male realm. With an unforgettably haunting vocal range that can reach into your chest and pull out your heart with a single note, Lee’s trademark sound has lived in our minds since 2003’s Fallen and has no intention of letting go. From the iconic “Bring Me To Life” to her solo career’s “Speak To Me” and most notably the captivating “My Immortal,” Lee’s inimitable voice of an angel showed metal how to truly capture the mainstream.
Melissa Bonny
You’ve never seen symphonic metal quite like Switzerland’s Ad Infinitum and, consequently, you’ve never seen a frontwoman quite like Melissa Bonny. With her compelling vocals at the helm, each track tells a story steeped in historic struggles and triumphs as the band members each adopt a story of survival during the time of the Black Death in Europe. Every member appears in a plague doctor’s mask except Bonny, commanding the narrative as her show-stopping range transitions from heavenly cleans to venomous screams with ease. Ad Infinitum and Bonny’s towering talents begin an epic quest through the ranks of metal, and nothing will stand in their way.
Simone Simons
Symphonic-metal outfits face a constant challenge to stay relevant and move forward with the scene around them, more so than any other subgenre. However, the dreamy contributions of Simone Simons have kept Epica at the forefront of their genre since 2002. The band that once created “Storm The Sorrow” have matured to the lofty heights of “The Skeleton Key” with Simons’ operatic tones at the helm, bringing her angelic range to the band’s cinematic instrumentals and occasional death-metal infusions.
Maria Brink
Since their inception in 2005, In This Moment have redefined performance art and metal all at the same time, thanks to the command of iconic vocalist Maria Brink. Challenging religious imagery alongside feminine stereotypes, Brink’s presence both on and offstage has decimated the white male dominance of the metal genre. It takes a certain conviction and attitude to pull off the likes of “Whore” and “Blood” without trivializing their core moral messages, but Brink has rewritten the book on expectations of women in the heavy music industry. Long may she reign.
Larissa Stupar
Vicious, teeth-baring uncleans are the domain of Venom Prison’s Larissa Stupar, death metal’s brightest rising star. Whoever said women had to be the saccharine, angelic feminine contribution to metal clearly never met Stupar, who belts savage growls as if delivered from the gates of hell itself. The likes of “Uterine Industrialisation” and “Slayer Of Holofernes” prove devastating both live and in the studio when this unrelenting powerhouse gets her chops around them.
Alissa White-Gluz
Arch Enemy’s screamer-in-chief makes belting superhuman notes look easy. Alissa White-Gluz’s cord-shredding talents are the result of a career that started when she formed the Agonist at the age of 19. Joining Arch Enemy in 2014 gave White-Gluz a platform to showcase her range and also gave us her contagious live presence on a bigger stage. Providing her distinctive tones to regular collaborations with Kamelot and Delain, the voice behind Arch Enemy’s “War Eternal” and “You Will Know My Name” is no stranger to framing racing riffs with her guttural chops and showing off her heavenly cleans when the instrumentals allow.
Cristina Scabbia
The dual vocal onslaught we know and love from Lacuna Coil compels and fascinates, thanks to the storming presence of Cristina Scabbia. Dominating the metal scene since the ’90s, the enduring Italian crew pour richly gothic melodies over devastating riffs. Scabbia’s heavenly clean vocal is the cherry on top. From unforgettable classics such as “Our Truth” to their latest show-stopping “Save Me,” her dream-like range has been an invaluable gift to metal for over two decades and hopefully many, many more.
Tarja Turunen
The thought of losing founding Nightwish vocalist Tarja Turunen to the abyss of former symphonic singers when she left the outfit in 2005 was too much to bear. Luckily for us, Turunen kick-started her solo career the following year, and she’s been a mainstay of the metal scene ever since. The heavenly operatics that once heralded classics such as “Wish I Had An Angel” and “Nemo” now belts “Innocence” and “Tears In Rain” with the most celestial, earthbound vocals the genre has seen to date.
Suzuka Nakamoto
Easily the youngest member of our ranking, Suzuka Nakamoto, known as Su-metal, is the founding member of Japanese sensations BABYMETAL. With all the maturity of an artist twice her age, this 23-year-old puts us all to shame with her consistent energetic vocals and seemingly endless energy supplies while performing impeccable dance routines onstage. Between the iconic “Gimme Chocolate!!” and BABYMETAL’s latest “Kingslayer” collaboration with Bring Me The Horizon, there’s no denying she has a long and prolific career ahead of her.
Amalie Bruun
Myrkur has become a relentless hot topic in metal since its inception in 2014, and we have only recently discovered the identity of the haunting vocals at its heart. Now we can credit multi-instrumental composer Amalie Bruun with the rise of this mysterious Danish project, led into the wilderness by her raw screams bursting through cherubic cleans just when you least expect it. Often singing in Norwegian as an authentic twist on her own style of black metal, the theatrical “Ulvinde” and “Juniper”’s lingering atmospherics merely scratch the surface of Bruun’s compelling storytelling talents.
Elize Ryd
Amaranthe’s triple-threat vocals fetch their lighter tones from Elize Ryd, the Swedish outfit’s not-so-secret weapon who brings cherubic notes to their modern take on organized metallic chaos. Also known for her additions to Kamelot, both live and in the studio, Ryd’s heavenly cords and quirky songwriting add a bucketload of atmosphere and depth to the likes of “Amaranthine” and “Maximize,” making Amaranthe’s unique versatility one that continually sets trends for years to come.
Cammie Gilbert
Houston doom-metal upstarts Oceans Of Slumber have found themselves on a near-vertical trajectory over the last few years, a movement fronted by the tireless energy and boundless talents of their powerhouse vocalist Cammie Gilbert. Upon joining the band in 2014, Gilbert’s towering range came to the surface as her vocals neatly expand the lulling melancholy of “Winter” and the desperate cries of “A Return To The Earth Below,” as if her vocals project both fragility and strength at the same moment.
Heidi Shepherd and Carla Harvey
We couldn’t separate the two ladies commanding Butcher Babies, so this slot goes out to both Heidi Shepherd and Carla Harvey as the double-trouble onslaught who have brought us “Monsters Ball” and “Magnolia Blvd.” If you’re looking for a nonstop, indulgent party with the possibility of a snapped neck or two, look no further than L.A.’s dirtiest metal export that have become a staple on everybody’s festival bucket list. This versatile pair have made thrash their own ever since their 2013 debut, Goliath, showed the metal scene what it had been so desperately lacking—two relentless ladies who know exactly how to have a good time.
Chelsea Wolfe
Surprisingly the only strictly solo appearance on this list, Chelsea Wolfe has made metal her very own since her arrival in 2010, draping a veil of folk-y atmosphere and gothic depth over seductive doom-metal undertones. Combining her boundary-smashing approach with a sadistically dark visual style, Chelsea Wolfe somewhat ironically injects life into doom by refusing to conform to the genre’s ’90s stereotypes. She wraps her smooth vocal swathes around the compelling melancholy of “Feral Love” and “16 Psyche,” as if redressing the world around her in her own image.
Tatiana Shmayluk
You’d be forgiven for thinking Ukrainian outfit Jinjer tell their lyrical tales through the voice of three separate individuals covering melodic cleans, ear-splitting screams and guttural snarls and somewhat effortlessly slipping between them. The single towering voice behind this band’s meteoric rise belongs to Tatiana Shmayluk, flexing her multi-talented chops on “Perennial” and “Sit Stay Roll Over” just to increase your vocal envy. We’re still not sure how she pulls off such smooth transitions between the polar opposite personas onstage, but we can’t seem to look away.
Floor Jansen
Taking on the mammoth task of fronting the pioneering outfit Nightwish in 2013, Floor Jansen donned her new role as if she was born for it. Jansen’s inimitable honeyed tones ushered in a new age for the symphonic-metal icons, weaving her slick melodic range through the band’s trademark cinematic instrumentals. The theatrical atmospheres tracked on “Élan” and “Noise” give Jansen the room to flex her operatic range while she narrates the vibrant, tall tales we know and love from Nightwish.
#lzzy hale#Halestorm#Skynd#Taylor Momsen#the pretty reckless#Sharon den Adel#within temptation#Amy Lee#Evanescence#Melissa Bonny#Ad Infinitum#Simone Simons#Epica#maria brink#In This Moment#larissa stupar#venom prison#alissa white gluz#Arch Enemy#Cristina Scabbia#Lacuna Coil#Tarja Turunen#Suzuka Nakamoto#Babymetal#Amalie Bruun#Elize Ryd#Amaranthe#Cammie Gilbert#oceans of slumber#Heidi Shepherd
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Kinktober Day 1
dabi
☠️ warning(s): 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪, somnophilia, fingering, loss of virginity, con-dubcon.
☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.
☠️ words: 2.9k words [11 minutes, 40 seconds].
☠️ read more: kinktober(uary)
☠️ summary: dabi wanted to preserve you for as long as he could, until one morning your beauty was too much for him to just observe.
The sun's beams were what woke him up. His nocturnal nature surprisingly let him sleep in this time, the presence next to him making it possible for him. Not hiding the secret factor of Japan's summer heat doing him in as much as the rest of the league's humid rooms.
He rolled over to blatantly look at you, hiding back the feeling to smile at your peaceful slumber. His eyes scanned as you also fell victim to the hot heat, small amounts of sweat coating your skin. Dabi couldn't help but let his cyan orbs wander, the more his eyes traveled your body the more his mind started to race. He couldn’t help but feel like you were something sacred, the times you did ask him about certain topics lived rent-free in his mind. Most times, your questions were raised when the off-hand perverted comment was made by Shigaraki with no filter, opening an opportunity for you to talk with Dabi about certain topics.
“You’d like to try it?” Dabi asks looking over at you, his head tilting to look at your face better and smirking playfully at your blush.
“I-I mean yeah! If you wanted… I know you have more experience in this stuff…” You ramble off, shyly hiding into his hoodie. “Just take care of me, okay?”
You two hadn't done anything… intimate yet. Most times Dabi had to teach you things, and the furthest you had ever gone was letting him touch and show you how to pleasure yourself to your embarrassment. As much as you showed disdain for not knowing as much as an adult your age knew, Dabi loved it. It was something about your innocence that always made him want to wait. To hear you beg for him to take you, to show you what other things you could learn.
His actions were teetering on the right and wrongs, his thoughts slowly but surely egging him on to move closer to you. Dabi was taking a heavy leap of faith, not wanting to lose a relationship over a loss of control. The bed moved a bit, the slight movement accentuating the subtle jiggle of certain places that made him smirk. His hand moved to carefully sweep any miscellaneous hairs on your face that either fell out of your bonnet or lost its way in your poorly done bun.
His hand took a minute to rub your cheek, his free arm moving to support him on the pillow as his other hand ventured down your body. His touches were light, almost as if a ghost was touching human flesh for the first time in a while. His front had successfully pressed up against your back, his growing boner pressing against your underwear-clad butt. He felt you shift just a bit at the feeling, a small but mischievous glint coming to his face as your body unknowingly snuggles into his.
The forgotten hand now rested on your body, his unnaturally warm hand played with the bottom of your tank. His hand slipped under just a bit, his hand softly caressing your skin and letting his hold slowly make it up to your body. He didn't miss how your breasts strained against your struggling top, his hand not helping it either. His palms started to heat up, noting the way your body positively responded to the touch.
His fingers grope one of your tits, playing with the bud of your hardening nipple. The feeling of your breast pressed against his palm was doing wonders to him; your innocent and sleeping form adjusting slowly to his soft and sensual touches. Dabi leans down to kiss at your neck, his other coming up to take its place with you playing with your chest, the other tugging down your underwear enough to expose your cooter to him. His deep groan comes from his chest as his left-hand heats up in fondling you, tugging the bud before rubbing the erect nipple. His right hand cupped your sex, his fingers testing the waters and pulling away from your neck to see your face. To his delight your face had increasingly softened, your lips now slightly parted and your brows scrunched just a bit at the sensation he was giving your nerves.
Dabi decided to up the ante, using his middle finger to rub your clit. His eyes caught the way your hips moved to ride his digit, making the corporate decision to warm his fingers. Your breath slowly picks up in an aroused cycle, your untouched body not sure what to do with itself. He continued to rub your clit, observing once your cunt started to slick up and you had finally stirred from your slumber.
You had no proper words to start or explain the sensation you were feeling, the thing you could was let the sounds of pleasure leave your lips. “I -- haaaah…~” You breathed out. Your eyes looked up at his with a loveful lust, his cock twitching in excitement at the confused but trustworthy gaze in your eyes.
“Good morning,” He starts teasingly, pressing his hips into your ass to emphasize his morning wood. “I hope you don’t mind, I couldn’t help myself~” He leans down to give your lips a peck, the familiar feeling of your plush lips against his making him softly moan. He lets his two fingers rub and tease your opening, moving his position to your side and having you lay on your back. His arm was back to supporting himself next to your head, his face merely inches away. “I’m going to put them in, okay?” He asks, his thumb never slowing to keep your hormones running.
“Please give it to me, Dabi, please…” You softly whine, thighs moving apart to give him room.
He nervously gulps at that -- for what reason? He doesn’t know himself. It wasn’t like it was his facetime breaking someone’s innocence. The feelings of this going further than you two had ever anticipated rained in the back of his head, the very thought made him want to rush but also cherish this time.
He leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss again, this time his fingers successfully being able to enter your needy cunt. His mouth ate up all your wanton moans, fingers slowly pumping in and out of your cunt to prepare you for proper comfort. His tongue invaded your mouth, your muscle desperately moving against his and falling submissive to his sensual and loving touches -- the feeling with a hint of deviousness you hadn’t encountered with Dabi yet. The movement was almost hard to do with your virgin cunt squeezing at his fingers, legs spread open for his fucking. His calculated fingers stroked your walls, the new sensation leaving you quivering already. Dabi couldn’t help but speed up his fingers, the erotic sounds of your cunt taking his thrusting making the experience much arousing for both you and him.
When he pulls away you both are light of breath, the room no longer hot but a heavy humid -- only an ambiance of sensuality running through the air. “You like it when my fingers are deep in you like this, Doll~?” He taunts you, smirking as you once again nod your head, one hand designated on holding onto his arm close to your head as the other clung to his snapping wrist that quite literally held your pleasure in the palm of his hand. He positioned his fingers to hit a bit deeper, the change of angle prompting him to hit a spot inside that you weren’t ready for.
A moan shrieked from your mouth as he does, thighs immediately moving to clench around his thighs. Much to his surprise, it was what took you to cum on his fingers. He watched in amazement as you tried to pull his unrelenting fingers away, groaning deep in his chest as your pussy sucked in his fingers, heating his thumb to give your thumb some more stimulation as he rubbed into.
“Dabi--!” You breathlessly called out for him, never mind the other tenants that housed in the building. The pleasure was too great and your body was moving on its own. “Baby, it’s t-too much hnngn~!” You tried to reason, your needy pleas falling on deaf ears.
Dabi was too drunk on your essence and visuals, he glared down at you once he realized your words. You knew the look wasn’t anything but mean, only serving the purpose that he was in charge. “Is it too much for you, babygirl?” He inquires, noting the way your pussy dripped and his fingers. “Can you be a good girl and take another one for me~?” He asks, slowing his fingers to let you catch a breath, his hot fingers still shooting bolts of arousal through your veins.
For sure he knew he was pushing your limits, how else would he make this fun? Had you been any other simple person he wouldn’t be doing this. It was the desperation in your eyes that pulled him in, using his skillful hands to draw you closer and relish in the feeling of your cute thighs squeezing his arm for him to keep even though you were pulling it in.
Dabi had no mercy in stroking your g-spot, the one spot making you tense and the heat of his fingertips not helping any better either. He was pleased to watch your eyes roll back, a shiver running over your body as he urged another orgasm out of you. He slows down and mumbles reassuring words into your ear, pulling his fingers out slowly and watching as your slick drenches his fingers. He quickly gets up from his bed, getting a towel to clean you up. He holds his smirk when the rough but soft fabric brushes against your throbbing and sensitive clit, tossing the towel behind his back. He reaches over to give you your water bottle, helping you sit up a bit and holding your chin up to his careful hands.
He didn’t communicate anything as he helped you take a sip of water to calm you down, his gaze holding nothing but deep adoration for you. His heart hammered as he took in your panting state, hair now messy and face hot, the few strands of hair sticking to your skin. He hums in content once you hand him back the bottle, screwing the cap back on, and leans down to give your lips a peck before he rests the water bottle back onto its post on the nightstand. His hand moves to hold your cheek, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip.
“Do you think you can go further, or would you like a bath, Doll?” He asks gently. Your adoring eyes stared up into him, pondering on it before slowly nodding your head. He sighs softly, his hand coming up to grip your jaw and tilt your head at a better angle to look at you better. “I need to hear you say it, Y/N.”
“Please, use me as you see fit…” You ask just as told. His eyes only softened just a bit, wordlessly getting off and reaching over for his draws. You see him pull out a bottle that had the label as “lube”, your face scrunching up in mild confusion at it. You watched him get comfortable between your legs again, his hands coming up to get your tank top off leaving you embarrassingly exposed in front of him. You bit your lip as you watched him prepare, not having enough brain capacity to really ask him what is in the bottle when he finally whips out his dick. The question of wanting a condom is almost going over your head since you were so caught up on his erect dick. You had never seen one before, much less even thought about seeing it in a person or on technology.
It is sure as hell was intimidating. Dabi couldn’t have had a normal pecker, no. His cock looked almost 7.5 inches long and not too shy on the thicc side either. His impressive length curved upwards just a bit and his tip had precum at the tip of its head. Your eyes widened in surprise at the piercings on his length, the proud studs that lined up perfectly on the underside of his cock. You watched as he took a generous amount of the translucent liquid into his fist to get himself lubricated fully. You gulped as you witnessed him lube his cock up, his actions alone stoking you up for the next event's activities.
“What? You surprised doll~?” He teases once he’s done, using the remaining lube on his hand to lube up your already slick labia. You purse your lips to keep yourself from moaning out from the feeling, trailing your gaze up to his dark and lustful one.
“Y-Yeah… is it going to fit?” You ask worried, jumping once he carefully presses it against your opening. He pauses and grabs your thighs from the back of your knees and holds you open.
“I mean, it’s not supposed to hurt.” He says ‘reassuringly’, speaking to you as if the underside of his pierced cock wasn’t giving the lips of your cunt a wonderful massage. “If it ever hurts, let me know, okay?” He asks softly, nodding his head in affirmation before he pulls his hips back a bit to allow him some space to have his tip press at your opening once again. He aligns himself before carefully aligning himself. He slowly thrusts himself in, testing the waters and watching your face to see whether to continue or not. When he sees your confirmation he continues, his cock almost halfway in when he managed to grab a whimper from you. The sound was almost too magical for him, the sweet reward of obtaining his sweet, innocent, and beautiful girlfriend’s virginity. The sound makes him pause before he checks on you again and finishes the process with bottoming out. He buries his face into your neck to softly kiss at your skin once he’s fully in, prompting you to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
He lightly kissed at the old marks on your neck, moving to new spaces to bite and create new marks by sucking on them. Being the gentleman he is, he kept a regular pace for you until you gave him the go. As much as he wanted to demolish your cunt, he sure as hell didn’t want to tear it on his first time with you. So he did as said, starting from his comfortable pace before picking it up. Dabi had his hips angled so he could rub against your clit each time he rutted in you, the vibration of his growl against your neck made you shiver along with the feeling of his dick piercings massaging the insides of your cunt walls.
“Daabi ahh~” You cry out for him, your nails digging into the skin of his exposed back. The pain elicits a groan from him, his hips smacking into yours in response. His hold on your thighs was tight and strong, holding you up high and ready to be rawed by him this early in the morning. He smirks against your skin once he hears your loud and annoyed whimper at the feeling of his mark, his tongue unapologetic ally licking the spot to make it better.
At this point, Dabi was successfully bottoming out inside of you and it made you feel wonderful. You had no idea how to shut up from the sensations you were receiving and it did nothing but fuel Dabi’s ego. Your heels dug into the dip of his back, legs keeping him in close as he rides out his pleasure in you. Your cunt was impossibly tight around him and it was so very hard to keep himself from going all the way to his usual pace -- also keeping in mind the studs could just easily hurt you as well.
You didn’t take the time to warn him you were going to cum. The given factor of your sweet words slurring as you tried to catch yourself, head tilting against the pillows and body tensing up in hot pleasure. He watched as you finished on his cock, your erotic face spurring on his as well. Dabi was more skilled in pushing it back to draw yours out. His teeth bit at his bottom lip as he held back from cumming in you and pulling out last minute. His hand easily glided his cock as he eased himself to cum on your untouched and pure skin. A deep groan came from his chest, one short of a deep groan that sounded like a growl.
His white substance coated your skin and gave you a nice look, the sperm landing on your stomach and lips. Dabi smiled sweetly as you tried to catch your breath, your skin glistened with sweat and inappropriately displayed just for him. “I’ll run you a nice bath, you’ve earned it.” He leaned down to give your lips a loving peck as he carefully picked you up in his arms, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders and face nuzzle his neck. He makes his way to the shared bathroom that is connected to your room, his smile quickly changing into one of a mischievous grin.
He couldn’t wait to do more with you in the future~
#kinktobe#bnha kinktober#mha kinktober#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha smut#mha smut#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bnha x y/n#mha x y/n#bnha x poc!reader#mha x poc!reader#bnha dabi#bnha dabi x reader#mha dabi#mha dabi x reader#bnha todoroki#mha todoroki#bnha touya todoroki#bnha touya#mha touya todoroki#mha touya#bnha touya todoroki x reader#mha touya todoroki x reader#dabi x reader#n/sfw#sav sins
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“I have your loved one” with Dick and Jason?
heyyy, it's finally here haha! i'm slowly getting to each request lol
here it is on ao3
I Have Your Loved One
It’s Thursday.
Time: 23:47, or 11:47 p.m.
Bludhaven has hit a rough patch in its weather, a vicious storm battering against thin windows and overflowing gutters and drains. It’s one of those storms that brings in the water but no lightning, dark clouds blanketing the entire sky, remorseless and relentless in its pursuit of smothering any light from escaping. The clouds don’t muffle anything though, perhaps amplifying instead the downpour that floods through Bludhaven’s streets and alleyways. Its citizens like to think this is a New Jersey hurricane, freshly mutated and traveled from the east coast into their humble, mildew covered city.
Dick likes the rain. Likes the way it pounds against his apartment, screaming to be let in but just barely warded off by seven inches of concrete and steel. The blinds are closed against the windows, and he has towels pushed up against the sills just in case the sealing lets up. Even if they were open, Dick is sure all he would see is another wall of gray and black, dozens of delicate raindrops splattered against his windows.
Because of the storm currently wreaking havoc in his city, Dick has elected to stay indoors for the time being. Eventually, the rain will let up, its pattern being close to about 05:00, and then he’ll suit up and do a quick patrol before work. For now, he’s content with sitting on his couch and listening to the water smack against the old building and run rivers down the sides. He’d like to sleep through it, a free white noise service at the ready, but his mind simply refuses to allow him to rest just yet. In a few hours, he’s sure he’ll come to hate himself for not taking NyQuil or some other drug to help him fall asleep, but for now… Well, it’s nice. The rain is nice. It’s also very loud.
He misses the first call.
His phone is face down on the kitchen table, about eight feet away from where he lays on the couch, mindlessly staring up at the ceiling. It vibrates, buzzing for thirty seconds, before falling silent.
He misses the second call too.
Thunder rumbles through the black sky, its force shaking the windows and only encouraging the downpour. His phone buzzes again during it, quieting after another thirty seconds.
Dick hears the third call. Hears the tail-end of the buzzing, getting up from his position on the couch and padding over to pick up his phone only to miss the last few seconds. He unlocks his phone, checking the number, and feels something cold settle into his gut when he sees no caller ID. It’s the same person though, all three times, but no voicemail.
He’s about to call the number back, just in case it’s someone he knows and they’re ringing from a payphone or something else, when the no caller ID flashes across his screen for the fourth time.
Dick answers on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Is this Richard Grayson?”
“Yes, that’s me. Who is this?”
The voice is feminine, a slight, western accent, longer o’s and a faint drawl. Somewhere from Arizona most likely. Lower register too. Older woman, mid-to-late fifties. Smoker.
“That’s good. I was starting to think I had the wrong number, Richard.”
“Yeah, sorry, I just didn’t have my phone on me. You didn’t say earlier, but who is this?”
“That doesn’t matter too much right now. What does matter, though, is this.”
She pauses. There’s shuffling he can hear on the other side. A faint, second voice in the background. No, three voices. At least two others in the room with the woman. He can hear the sounds of an air condition unit rattling.
“I think you might’ve cut off there. What were—”
“I have your loved one, Richard.”
Lightning cracks through Bludhaven.
His stomach falls onto the floor, pooling around his ankles. The storm outside grinds to a halt, the quiet louder than any thunder it’s ever managed to produce, and there’s a high pitched ringing reverberating inside his skull. Dick thinks he might be sick.
“What?” he chokes, the air in the room suffocating and weighing down his lungs. “What did you say?”
“I have your loved one,” the woman repeats, calm and slow. “Your brother, actually. Then again, he tells me you aren’t related by name nor blood, so we’ll settle for a loved one.”
“What do you want?” Dick demands, already scrambling to get to his computer, find where they’ve taken Jason. Find his brother.
“He did say you weren’t one for small talk,” the woman carries on, unhurried and unconcerned. “Your brother isn’t either, hardly said a word all this time.”
“Can I speak to him?”
There’s a small huff on the other end of the call, exhalation and a sigh leaving the woman’s mouth. A cigarette. She’s smoking during this conversation, blowing the smoke into the receiver.
“I don’t know,” she finally answers. There. Dick has his general location. Still in Gotham. He needs the tracker to be more precise though. It’s taking time though. Too much. “Your brother here was pretty convinced you wouldn’t answer after his daddy didn’t pick up. Cried pretty hard about it too.”
“What are you talking about?” Dick grounds out, fearing his phone will crack with how tightly he’s gripping it.
“Well, you weren’t our first choice to call, Richard. I’m sure you understand.”
Dick says nothing, focused on the computer screen in front of him. He should contact Barbara. This would be faster with her. Faster to find Jason.
“We called about seven times,” the woman continues, blowing another puff of smoke out into the phone. “Isn’t that right, boy? We called and called and called. His daddy didn’t pick up once, went straight to voicemail each time. A shame, really.”
There’s a sniffle on the other side of the call and Dick’s heart seizes when he realizes it’s probably Jason.
Batman was currently off-world, all communication with him being strictly between Justice League lines. Bruce Wayne was somewhere in the Bahamas, partying with Italian models and Spanish actresses.
Of course he wouldn’t pick up.
“Can I please talk to him?” Dick asks for the second time, fisting a hand into the couch cushions. “Please, I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
More smoke. “I’ll ask him.”
There’s a muffled thud, the phone most likely having been put down, and quiet voices filter through the line. He can’t hear much of what they’re saying, short bursts of comprehensible syllables before fading back to unintelligible noises. His computer dings with a response from Barbara. She’s going to use one of the J.L satellites to better pin-point Jason’s location. She’s also in communication with the police, reporting a child-abduction.
Keep them talking, she writes. Everything is going to be okay, Dick.
It feels like his heart is beating in his throat and his tongue has swollen to the size of a bowling ball. The storm outside is unrelenting. Lightning hasn’t struck again.
There’s more movement on the other side, clattering and scattered noises. The phone’s been picked up.
“Alright,” the woman says, raspy and uncaring. “The boy says he wants to talk to you, Richard.”
Dick holds his breath, waiting. There’s more noises, a transfer he thinks, and another sniffle interrupts it.
“Hello?” a shaky voice asks into the receiver. Dick feels like crying.
“Jason,” he breathes. “We’re going to get you out of there, alright? You’re going to be okay.”
“I’m sorry,” his brother rattles, a sob latching onto the end. “I’m so sorry, Dick. I-I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay,” Dick shushes, feeling himself get choked up at the fear in the younger boy’s voice. “I know you didn’t, bud. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“No, not really. I didn’t think you were gonna pick up,” he admits, voice cracking. “B-Bruce didn’t. He didn’t answer, Dick, and I-I thought you weren’t gonna either. I-I thought—”
“I’ll always answer, Jason, I promise. I’m coming for you, okay? I’m going to come get you and we’ll both go home together. Does that sound good, Jay? You’re going to be fine.”
“Okay,” the thirteen year old relents. “You promise though, right? You’re not gonna leave me here?”
“No, Jay, of course not. I’m not going to leave you there, I’m coming to get you. Right now. I promise, okay? Jason, I would never abandon you. You’re my kid-brother and I love you. I’m not going to-”
“As touching as this is,” the woman interrupts, “I think that’s enough.”
“Put Jason back on the phone,” Dick snarls. “I swear, if you lay a hand on him, if you even touch him, I will end you.”
“Sure, honey,” the woman drawls, puffing into the receiver. “Here’s what’s going to happen, so I want you to listen to me.”
His computer dings. It’s Barbara. She’s got the location. It’s close. Not even twenty minutes away. Border between Bludhaven and Gotham. Motel next to the gas station connecting the freeways. Room 13.
He’s out the door and revving up his motorcycle before the woman has even taken a second drag from her cigarette. The rain is beating against him, gloomy street lights flickering through the shrouded dark of the storm. Thank god for Bludhaven sewers, only slightly better than Gotham’s. The water level is only a few millimetres high.
“Now, I don’t want to keep this kid anymore than you want him to stay here with me,” the woman drones. The streets are empty. Dick blows through every red light he comes across. The tires are new, the grip is fine. “So, I think we can make this simple.”
“What do you want?” Dick growls, transferring the call into his helmet. He prays she can’t hear the rain battering against it. “Just tell me what you want already and I’ll give it to you.”
“Don’t rush me,” the woman snaps, and it is then that Dick realizes that this is all probably by chance. This isn’t some criminal mastermind who plotted to find and kidnap the son of a billionaire. This isn’t a case of a rogue villain piecing together vague details and figuring out Batman and company’s identities. It’s simply someone desperate. Someone who saw the opening and took it. The poor planning is evident, practically spelled out in bold print that these people have no real idea what they’re doing.
“Sorry,” Dick bites out, veering through a short-cut that says, in neon orange, Danger. Construction Zone. “Please continue.”
The woman on the line is vindictive though, choosing to remain quiet as the sound of a lighter clicking open tinnies through the call. She takes her time lighting a new cigarette, taking a long, slow drag and holding it in for a few seconds. Dick jerks his bike to the right, narrowly avoiding a large pothole. A passing car blares its horn at him. Finally, the woman exhales. He can hear Jason cough in the background.
“What I want,” she starts, a new color of intrigue hitting the back of her throat. He’s barely ten minutes away now. Could probably half it if he took more backstreets and increased his speed. “Is for my son to be released from prison.”
“Who is your son?” Dick asks, cursing silently as his back tire skids, hydro-planing for a moment. Thunder crashes above him and the rain continues to pelt at his body. It feels like getting hit with a paint-ball gun.
“Landon Jennings. I want you to get him released. I know you have the access to lawyers, probably have debts owed to you from people in high places. I want him released tonight.”
Time: 00:14.
01:14 a.m standard time.
“I can do that,” Dick says, heart beating faster as he sees the sign for the motel, dim in the gray, “but I’ll need a few hours. I need to contact my lawyers. Where is your son stationed?”
An icon appears in the front of his digitized visor. It’s Barbara. She sees him closing in. Police are on route. Seven minutes out. He has the option to wait on them and keep the kidnappers on the line.
“Same place they all go,” the woman barks. “Use that head of yours and figure it out. I want my son out by tonight, or you’re not going to see your brother again. And,” she rushes, “I don’t want the police involved. If you call them, I’ll know, you understand? I don’t want to hurt the kid, but I’m not scared to. My husband is here with me too, so if you try and—”
Okay, so waiting isn’t an option. He’s going in.
“No police,” Dick interrupts. “I understand. Please, don’t hurt him.”
“If you just do what you’re told, then I won’t have to.”
“Thank you,” Dick whispers, gently getting off of his bike and leaving it on the side of the road. He can’t chance them seeing him pulling into the motel lot. “You said your son’s name was Landon? If you don’t mind me asking, what is he charged with?”
“Why do you need to know?”
Dick jogs towards the motel, careful to stay out of direct light. The general office looks closed. Most of the windows facing the lot are shielded by salmon colored curtains. There’s only one floor, thankfully. Dick sees door 13. He’s shaking. His fingers are numb.
“My lawyers said they need to know in order to file for a judge to repeal his sentence.”
“Is that so?” the woman asks, suspicion tailing her voice. She takes a drag from her cigarette, contemplating. Dick’s clothes are soaking wet and he cringes every time his shoes squelch against the concrete. He decides crawling is best, ducking under windows and avoiding peepholes. “Fine then. Landon got falsely accused of statutory rape and breaking and entering. Is that what your damn lawyers are looking for?”
“Yes,” Dick breathes. He’s at door 10. He can see a faint glow coming from behind the curtains of room 13. He’s so close. “Thank you.”
He taps on the side of his helmet, sending a series of numbers that he’s sure Barbara will understand.
23-26-8-37
E-N-T-R
He can’t wait any longer.
While crawling, Dick made sure to get a good look at the motel’s doors and hinges. They’re standard, and though both Gotham and Bludhaven tend to have better locks than most other cities, Dick recognizes the model of the door and the wood it’s made out of. They’re thin enough for him to ram through. The hinges on the sides are rusted over as well, and Dick thinks they might just be weak enough to break. The windows however. The windows are his best bet. He doubts this kind of motel invests in bullet proof glass, and on some of the sills, he can see water damage. They leak. Poorly made. Meaning, if he ran at them, he could break through pretty easily.
But, if that doesn’t work. Or if he’s not fast enough to get on his feet once in. Or if the window is directly in front of Jason and the glass breaks all over him. Or if—
Stop. He can’t think about the what-ifs right now. Dick knows he can do this. Knows how to do this. There isn’t any more time to wait. He promised he would get Jason out of there, and goddamnit, he’s going to keep his promise.
“You’re being really quiet,” the woman mutters. “What’s going—”
Dick takes a deep breath and tenses. The light behind the curtain flickers. He needs to move. Now. Now.
Lightning splits across the sky and Dick can’t tell if it’s the glass shattering or the thunder that makes the other-worldly crack but it doesn’t matter because Dick lands feet first and is tucking and rolling before the occupants have a chance to react.
“Oh my god!” someone screams, but Dick isn’t paying attention to them because his gaze zeroes in on his brother, tiny, thirteen year old Jason, who’s tied up on one of the beds and staring right at him.
He can’t linger long though because he hears the words, “Get the gun!”, and he’s up on his feet again, rushing the closest person. It turns out to be the husband, a balding man with a patchy neck-beard, and Dick bunches up his fist and swings, socking the man in the stomach. He doubles over, wheezing, and Dick can see the small pistol in the man’s right hand, and Dick strikes down on his shoulder, kneeing him simultaneously. The pistol drops and so does the man, groaning, and Dick turns to the woman, who is staring at him like an animal cornered.
“Don’t come any closer!” she yells, pocket knife trembling in her grip as she shoves it in Jason’s face. “I’ll stab him, I will!”
Dick holds up his hands, sidestepping the groaning man. “Put the knife down.”
“No!” the woman argues, a strand of black hair falling into her mouth. “Now I told you- stay there! Don’t fucking move or I’ll kill this kid, you hear! I’ll fucking slice his throat open!”
With how scared the woman is, and how precarious she holds the pocket knife, which Dick can see is dull even from where he’s standing, he knows it’s not an idle threat. Scared people will do anything to get out of the situation they’re in. Scared people are unpredictable and dangerous.
But so is Dick.
So is Jason.
“I’m not going to move,” Dick reassures, eyes flickering towards his brother, “so, please, drop the knife. We can talk this out.”
“Talk?” the woman shrills, jerking the knife closer to Jason’s jawline. “You just killed my husband!”
“I didn’t kill him,” Dick corrects. “He’s just unconscious. Come on now. It’s just you and me. Let’s talk this over. I can still get Landon out if you give me back my brother. It’s as easy as that, alright? Just put down the knife, and we’ll talk. Does that sound okay?”
The woman looks like she’s considering it, the hand holding the knife still trembling, when the first sirens enter the lot. Red and blue light flash through the broken window as rain seeps into the curtains.
“You rat!” she screams, furious and terrified and desperate all at once. “You fucking called the cops! You broke—”
She doesn’t get a chance to finish before Jason snaps his head back, headbutting the woman directly in the nose. He falls to the side, getting out of range of the knife, and Dick takes his cue, leaping forwards and gripping the woman’s wrist and squeezing, weapon falling from her grasp. There’s blood spurting from her nose and Dick throws her to the floor, getting her on her stomach and hands behind her back. He sits on top of her, his weight overpowering any strength she has left, and in the next few seconds, police are banging on the door.
“This is the GCPD! Open up and put your weapons down!”
“You can come in!” Dick shouts, holding the squirming woman in place. “We’re unarmed!”
Things happen quickly after the door bangs open, several officers pouring in like the Bludhaven storm. As soon as an officer handcuffs the woman he’s on top of, Dick is rushing to Jason’s side, another officer cutting away his bindings. His younger brother turns to him, about to say something, but Dick cuts him off with a crushing hug, cradling the back of Jason’s head to rest against his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” Dick whispers, gathering his brother more fully into his arms. “I should’ve been there sooner. God, Jason, I’m so sorry.”
“I-I thought you weren’t going to come for me,” Jason confesses, hiccuping. “When Bruce didn’t pick up, I thought it was because he didn’t want me anymore. I-I told her that, I told her Bruce wasn’t coming but she wouldn’t listen and-and I—”
Dick wraps his arms more securely around the sobbing preteen in response, gently rocking back and forth as the mattress springs squealed under the pressure.
“I know I haven’t always been around,” he says, uncaring about the snot dribbling into his shirt, “and I’m sorry you thought you couldn’t rely on me to come and get you. You’re my brother, though, and I will always come running when you call. No matter what. I promise, Jay. Anywhere, anytime, I promise I’ll be there. Okay?”
“Okay,” Jason wheezes, the adrenaline from before slowly releasing its hold. “I trust you.”
Dick presses his face into his brother’s hair, relief washing over him as his heart slows. He’s never had a sibling before. Things were still tense with Bruce, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a big brother. There isn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for this kid in his arms right now.
“What’re brothers for, right?” he mumbles.
The rain doesn’t stop and pours and pours and pours. Dick just holds Jason tighter.
The real storm was over.
Five months later
It’s Thursday.
Time: 11:47 a.m.
The stone is nice. White marble. Shiny. Expensive.
There are fresh flowers. Roses and yellow daisies. The dirt is still new too. Evidence of freshly upturned earth. Dick reaches down and pulls out a weed that’s sprung up at the corner of the stone. Tosses it away.
He doesn’t have flowers. He has a newspaper in his left hand. Reads: Mourning billionaire sets off on trip to Europe.
Jason died a month before he got back from across the universe.
Anywhere, he had said. Anytime. I promise I’ll be there.
He crumples the newspaper into a tight ball and shoves it into his pocket. Stares at the stone. The sun is out. There are no clouds in the sky. It’s nice.
It’s a nice day.
“Fuck,” Dick mutters, a familiar burn in the back of his eyes. “Fuck.”
Anywhere, anytime.
Dick Grayson is an only child once again.
#bad things happen bingo#i have your loved one#dick grayson#dick grayson is nightwing#nightwing#jason todd#jason todd is robin#robin#hurt/comfort#angst#kidnapping#well the hurt/comfort didn't really work out in the end but eh#my fic
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ignite it; l.tn
Pairing: Ten Lee x reader
Themes: angst, suggestive, sad-ish, the reader is not in the best state of mind, making out
Warnings: suggestive, unrequited love, self hate? kind of, tens an asshole, a toxic relationship, everyone is fucked amen
Wc: 2k
Playlist: here
Taglist: @danishmiilk @channoticedmeuwu @chicksung @1-800-seo @blueprint-han @jenosslut @cupidluvstarrz @kkakkdugi @yunntext @vera-liscious @leetaeyonglover @kunrengui @unknown5tar @kisshim @the-rooftop-fight
Authors note: ahem, this is a very self indulgent fic, it turned out to be longer and spicier than I had anticipated, its a bunch of making out and angst, enjoy! I got carried away h a h a. I even made a spotify playlist oh em gee
The incessant ticking of the clock was the only thing keeping you sane at the moment. You had ten minutes before he would arrive, ten minutes to pull yourself together, out of a hole you had dug yourself into. Sighing, you took your cup to your kitchen, placing it in the sink and running a hand through your hair.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Time was something that always roped you in. You never had enough, you had too much, you had none. The minutes ticked by as you walked to your bedroom, taking your sweater off.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Was it a sin to feel this way? You had never felt it before, it felt so wrong, yet so right. Every touch was like throwing alcohol on a flame. All it did was help it burn brighter.
Five minutes.
You didn’t want Ten to arrive, you wanted him to stay far away from you. You wanted to never see him again, because every moment you spent with him ate at you, it made your skin crawl. He gave you that momentary high, before you crashed back down to the ground, keeping you roped in.
You kept going back, for that mercurial high, those few hours where you could pretend you had it all, when you could pretend that he was yours, when all you were was a distraction. Stress relief, a girl with no face he gave his attention to.
Why did you keep going back?
A desperation coursed through you as you glanced at your phone, awaiting the text that told you he had arrived. You wanted him to come, you wanted him there with you right now, kissing you, making you forget everything. How could you have ever doubted him? It was Ten after all, the boy you loved. You trusted him with everything you were, you wanted him to be there-
No you didn’t. You wanted him to leave, but god, you wanted him to stay as well, stay with you and never leave.
It was a dangerous game.
He left so fast as well, you would never see him for more than a few hours on end, before he would disappear, only to show up late in the night, apologizing profusely, telling you it was his terrible memory. He told you he loved you, he promised he did.
He remembered everything else, everyone else, but you.
You remembered when you first met Ten, the pretty boy with an even prettier smile, in the pouring rain. He gave you his umbrella and walked away in the rain, his hair matting against his forehead as he smiled at you, assuring you it wasn’t a big deal.
You met him again later by chance, and he smiled at you again. You swore you had never been more entranced by such a simple gesture before. He was in your college, and you had bumped into him on campus. You promised to give his umbrella back the next day,
You didn’t see him the next day, in fact, you didn’t see him for a whole week, yet you carried the umbrella around. It was about more than just the umbrella, you wanted him to give you that smile again, to thank you and smile again.
You finally saw him and finally returned the umbrella, and left, suddenly feeling empty. You had no reason to run into him again, so you decided to forget about him, until you ran into him at a party. From there on, the two of you got closer, until one day he finally kissed you.
You didn’t see him for a week after that.
He came back, and never made any indication he remembered the kiss, in fact he made no mention of it. He would cut you off every time you tried to bring it up, offering to hang out some other time, or talking about something absurd and unrelated.
Finally, he spoke about it, telling you he liked you but didn’t want anything serious. You agreed, assuring him you liked him back. You said it was alright, it was fine if he wasn’t ready for a relationship, you were fine.
From then on, you tolerated it all, the late night calls, his random mood swings, the times he would seemingly disappear for days on end, before returning and kissing you, avoiding your questions and promising to make it up to you.
He loved you after all, he said, he loved you.
He did, right?
Tick. Tock.
You still didn’t know what the two of you were, and it had been months. Months of running around each other, of missing him and having him before losing him again. Maybe he liked playing games with you, maybe he liked the way you broke slowly for him, forgiving him every time.
You loved you after all, you loved him.
Your phones screen lit up, and it was embarrassing, just how fast you clicked on the notification, eyes glossing over as you read the message.
[00:45 am] Ten: I’m here
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you walked to the living room, past the hall and to your main door, right hand gripping the knob. Everything inside you screamed to leave it shut, to stop this game right now. You didn’t want to be a pawn anymore, you wanted to roll the dice, pull a six and win.
And leave.
But he was so close. Even that thought made you shiver, just outside your door was Ten, the boy your loved, the boy you wanted. Just thinking about it set you off, igniting a fire that lay dormant when he wasn’t around. A euphoric flame that you didn’t want extinguished.
You opened the door, holding your breath.
Tick. Tock.
He stood there, looking gorgeous as usual, hair messy, lips red, eyes staring into yours. He had his hands in his pockets, as he held the gaze, taking a step forward and licking his lips.
“Y/n”
All he had done was said your name, but fuck, even that made you want to drag him by his collar inside and kiss him. It sent shivers down your spine, and even if it was well past midnight, you felt alert and awake, buzzing with energy only he gave you. That short lived adrenaline shot.
“Ten���
You sounded breathless, and he hadn’t even done anything. He stepped inside your house and shut the door for you, looking back at your expectant eyes, before leaning forward and capturing your lips in an intoxicating kiss.
Your hands quickly found their way to his hair, his hands found your waist pulling you closer. Tugging slightly at the hair at the base, you tilted your head, staggering back as he followed.
The game had begun.
Fuck he was right there, you were in his arms as he kissed you. You felt that flame light again, burning brightly with fury. You hated the way you liked it, the way you wanted it to never stop. The sparks jumped brighter, but you weren’t so sure it was a good thing.
You hated the fact you left yourself go through the same thing again and again, the same excruciating pain, just for a few moments of happiness. When he came around, you forgot all the hatred you held, you only remembered that he was there.
Stop, please stop, you thought, before your mind did a full one-eighty flip, pulling him closer. Ten pulled away, pushing you against the wall before he kissed you again. Your fingers fisted the ends of shirt as his lips trailed down to your jaw, leaving butterfly kisses all along it. They travelled down to your neck, and you were lost.
Lost in between kisses and touches, trapped within your own mind wasted. It was so wrong, but it felt so, so right. You didn’t know how to stop, you were utterly lost to him. You felt yourself going dizzy, you couldn’t think straight.
This wasn’t how love was supposed to be right?
At first it was wonderful, you would get those first crush butterflies, you would feel giddy every time he was around, every time he kissed you, Now even the thought of Ten filled you with dread, a dread that would pool in the pit of your stomach, until it was replaced with wanting him.
It was a rush, pulling him closer, only to lose him again, why the fuck did you still want this?
He cupped your face, kissing you once again, before pulling away. His half lidded eyes stared back at you. You wanted to follow him, and kiss him again, but you waited. He pulled you along with him to your bedroom, he pulled you along like a puppet like he always did.
You were attached as he strung you along, and the ironic thing was the fact he had asked for a no strings attached relationship. Correction: he asked for no relationship at all.
Every kiss burnt, setting your skin alight. It was painful against your lips. It was messy, it hurt, and it was wrong. You shouldn’t enjoy it, you shouldn’t want him, but you did, fuck you wanted him all the time. You wanted him to be yours.
“I’m sorry”, he whispered against your lips. He sounded genuine, like he meant it, but it was all a lie. You knew how things would go, he would come along, he would apologize, he would promise he loved you, and he would leave, leaving you empty.
He would light you on fire, and leave you to burn out.
Of course you forgave him, you always forgave him, because you didn’t want him to leave. Because you hoped that one day he would come back for you, and he would stay. You still held onto that foolish hope that the initial feeling of happiness would come back to you.
That flushed feeling of butterflies, the giddiness, the giggling and late night talks. You wanted the Ten you had met before back, but you wanted the Ten you knew right now as well. You wanted it all.
You would end up with nothing, you knew.
You were greedy, but you didn’t care. You still wanted everything you could have, even if it was only for a moment. You let yourself get lost in him, lost to him like a moth drawn to a flame.
Make me forget, you thought, make me forget you. You couldn’t forget him even if you tried. You loved him, didn’t you?
“It’s okay”, you said in between kisses, as his lips trailed down your skin, searing hot.
Maybe you weren’t in love with him, you were in love with the idea of having him. You were in love with his smile, his eyes, the way he spoke. You were in love with the memories you had, and you held onto them.
You sometimes wondered what you would be like if you had never met him. If you hadn’t been out there in the rain that day, if you were still oblivious to Ten’s existence and everything about him, his pretty smile, his dark eyes. Everything that you loved about him.
Your love was tainted, but you believed it was beautiful in it’s own dark, twisted way. Maybe it was a fairytale told by wronged side, the side of the story that no one liked. You hated it too, but you couldn’t stop it. You lived for that tainted beauty.
All fairytales came to an end at one point, but this one never had one. It was a cycle, the same thing over and over. You were afraid of the end, knowing it wouldn’t be a happy one. It had no chance to be.
His tongue swiped your lower lip dangerously, asking for permission. you nodded weakly, wrapping your arms around his neck, basking in the familiarity of the situation. The flame inside you burst out, angry and wanting. You let yourself fade away in his arms, mind going blank.
He ignited you once again, only to leave by the end of it, a dying fire left behind.
After all, fires were meant to be extinguished.
#neoculturecafe#kpopscape#nctcreations#nct-writers#czennet#ten x reader#ten lee x reader#nct ten x reader#chittaphon x reader#chittaphon angst#ten angst#wayv ten x reader#nct ten#wayv ten#ten#ten lee#chittaphon leechaiyapornkul#ten fanfiction#kpop fanfiction#wayv fanfiction#nct fanfiction#wayv#nct#kpop#this is so self indulgent bye
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