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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months

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platonic yandere! Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

Warnings: aged-up! reader [in early to late twenties], ooc, overprotective! Alastor, possessive behavior, implied yandere!vox, stalking, knowledge based on the six episodes of the 2024 season.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

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Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor and his little darling!

Special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing-desk and @isuckatwritingsobenice for providing criticism and feedback.

As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.

For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on for tonight's broadcast :)

Tomorrow was your turn for Show and Tell.

According to Charlie’s lesson plan, it is an activity where your interests and stories are shared with a group of people. But you did not know what you could share with everyone.

They know why you are here at the hotel.

They know you were ex-military.

They know you have prosthetic arms after you lost them in the war.

They know you were an Auto Memory Doll for the Lieutenant’s company.

They know many things about you…what is else there to talk about? You had thought long and hard but nothing came to mind. Your Remington typewriter is only used for work. The only ones who would even be remotely interested in its history were Alastor and Sir Pentious. Including your nightgown and tool kit to fix your hands, there is nothing else in the hotel that is under your possession except for a crimson parasol that the Alastor had gifted to you.

That was when you remembered something. A difficult man who lived by a lake. A man who struggled to write his next play until he asked you to take the pale blue parasol and….

You could show them that. However, there is no lake around the Pride Ring. The closest thing to an ocean was in another ring. Nor is there one here at the hotel because it stood on top of a hill. Yet…there is someone who is capable of conjuring something like that with a snap of his fingers. The Radio Demon.

Would he actually hear your request or simply say ‘no’ with a boisterous laugh was another question entirely. Your redemption was on the line here….at this point….you might have to make a deal with him after all. So you sought him out in his radio station in the hotel’s west wing. You had heard from Niffty that he was planning a special show this evening to celebrate his return. When you knocked on the door, he called to see who is the delightful visitor who has come to see him when he is quite busy at the moment.

“It’s me, sir.” You said. “Permission to enter?” You asked. Some habits were difficult to forget, especially when in the presence of a cannibal gentleman, as Vaggie has referred to Alastor. In the nicest way possible.

You only heard silence on the other side of the door. Assuming that he was not in the mood or struck speechless at the absurdity of your idea, you spoke again. “My apologies, Alastor. I didn't mean to disturb you. I will see you at dinner.”

You took a step away from the door, bowing your head. “I wish you good luck with your radio broadcast.” You turned around, grabbing the wrought-iron railing leading back down to the main floor with your gloved hand. You only took one step when the door leading to Alastor’s office swung open. You looked over your shoulder and saw Alastor leaning out of the doorway, wearing a wide grin as his bright red irises locked onto your gaze. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” You began. “I’ll ask Charlie if I could do something else for my Show and Tell presentation -”

“Nonsense, my dear!” He exclaimed. You watched his lanky form dissipate into wispy darkness, slithering across the floor and beneath your feet. Your mouth opened to interject that it was truly all right, but your body was not listening. Instead of leaving the Radio Demon to his work, you walked back up the stairs and straight into Alastor’s office. But you were not in control of your body. It had moved on its own.

The door closed behind you with a loud click, and you were seated on a couch adjacent to what appeared to be the soundboard. A shadow crawling out from the sleek wooden floor and up the golden bear claw of the furniture, twisting and writhing until he appeared by your side. “I didn’t know you could do that.” You said finally.

“Oh, I can do many things, darling~!” He said, leaning forward. “And do not fret over my listeners, they will get their daily dose of perfection as promised~! Now then, how can I help you?”

“I have an idea.” You replied. You then went on to explain what you wanted to do…but you were not sure if it could be pulled off. You clasped your gloved hands together, squeezing them in your lap. “Please be honest…is it possible for you to do this for me? I am willing to make a deal with you. Not for my soul because it is not worth anything to someone of your caliber as an overlord…but I am willing to do a favor for you.”

He stared at you for a long moment, still smiling as he tilted his head to one side. A high-pitched static noise bounced off of the walls till silence filled the room again.

“In the first place my dear there is no such thing as an unworthy soul, though I could name a few individuals. Certainly not yours. However, I will agree that granting this favor for your soul is asking for too much for something too little. Instead, let’s do a simple deal. Quid pro quo, if you will~! I do this for you, and you will help me as I host my radio show. Bringing me food and water, screening phone calls, the basics. Your choice. And~! Before we agree to this, I must be the one to see this little presentation first. Not even Charlie will see it. It will ruin the fun~!” He held out his hand, green smoke twirling around his gloved fingers. “Do we have a deal?”

You glanced down at his hand, then back at his face before raising your own to your mouth. Tugging the leather glove off your teeth, it fell into your lap. You extended your hand, the dim lights bouncing off of your adamantine skeletal fingers as you gently placed them into his open palm. You looked back at him. “Is this acceptable?” You asked. “Our hands being like this instead of a handshake. I do not want to push any more boundaries or waste your time further.”

Alastor looked down at your hands with a stupefied expression before he hummed, taking your mechanical wrist, holding your hand up and then….folding your hand over his own.

“If you want to make this deal official, both parties must shake hands on it. Finger tapping doesn’t count~!”

You watched the same green smoke from earlier envelop your intertwined hands, shifting into tiny skulls that circled around and around before disappearing entirely. The deal is made. You thought. Then you wondered, why is he still holding your hand?

You looked at him. “Sir?”

“Hm? Oh, my apologies~!” He quickly withdrew his hand, standing up from the couch. You followed suit, confused a little at his sudden actions.

“Now, let’s get started~!” He snapped his fingers again, and the vintage wallpaper of the radio station disappeared, replaced with the open, crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Looking around, you saw that the two of you were standing outside of the hotel. “So…you want to put the ‘lake’ here,” He said, pointing at the open space of the hill going down towards the city. “And you will be using a parasol while…performing this stunt?”

“Yes.” You said. Then you realized that you did not have your own on hand. “It will…make it difficult to perform without it.” And it was how Olive made it home after she had slayed the monster. To return to her father, whom she loved the most in the whole world.

“Fair enough.” Alastor said. “An act can’t be completed without the necessary props~!”

You speculated that him snapping his fingers is either something he enjoyed immensely or it was just how he conjured his powers that were not affiliated with his manipulation of the shadows. You have come to this conclusion after careful observation of him, and your parasol quite literally popped out of thin air and in your hands suddenly.

“Thank you.” You opened the parasol carefully, raising it over your head and now focused entirely on the space where the lake is supposed to be. Alastor hummed, and with the fourth snap of fingers, a foggy and inky body of water appeared several feet from both of you. Then he disappeared, his shadows slithering to the other side. He was ready. But were you? Yes. Yes, you were.

You stared at the water for a moment before taking three steps back, digging the heel of your boots into the ground. You bent your knees.

Then you took off.

Alastor thought you were a sweet little darling. Despite being insightful and a quick learner, however, you were oblivious to the signs of someone who takes an interest in you romantically. But he does not dare think that sending random gifts to the hotel, stalking someone through the cameras around the city whenever you leave the hotel for work or to run errands for Charlie, or even trying to ‘coincidentally’ mention your name and antagonize him on his broadcast qualifies. Alastor knows that Vox is doing it. He knows why, because the clout video podcast is bold to assume that you are his lover, the Radio Demon’s lover.

Ha! No. Not at all. You were simply someone who entertained him and needed protection from licentious fellows who would not hesitate to take advantage of your innocence and ensnare you in a contract. That will not happen. So unless Vox wants to make an appearance on his broadcast as a new voice for all of Hell to hear, the fucking egoistical piece of shit had better keep his distance.

But imagine his surprise when you approached him for help. You, the person who would rather try to figure everything out on your own! Why, he was delighted~!

Granted it was for one of Charlie’s silly exercises, yet how could he not take advantage of this opportunity to get to know his darling a little bit more? So he offered a deal with you, listing the terms and the two of you shook on it…though he had to put your hand around his in a handshake. You were still wary of him, no doubt, and knew he did not like being touched. Suppose there was a benefit of working under Rosie as her secretary in his absence.

No doubt she told stories about you as much as she told him about you. She would go on about how efficient you were, how you always showed up on time and dressed appropriately as per the rules of the Cannibal Colony, etc. Why, she told him so much about you that he had been curious to meet you~!

And he was not disappointed.

Now, as he watched you gracefully leap across the murky lake he had conjured, the parasol held high over your head in your gloved hand, Alastor was spellbound at the sight. His smile grew wider, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. But he refused to allow himself to get dirty again and pay another visit to the tailor; that was why he kept several feet away from the water, and he chose not to appear on the opposite side of the lake, as much as he’d like to. Oh well, there was always next time.

You had almost slipped, however, when your back foot began to loose traction on the water.

Well…nothing wrong with providing a little assistance, as far as he is aware of.

He summoned a tentacle from beneath the lake with a wave of his hand, letting you use it as leverage to bolster your speed and give you the stability needed to make one final leap to the opposite side. And you did, much to his delight and yours. When you smiled brightly at him….well, he was very pleased. He had just witnessed a new expression that he was quite sure no one else has seen since your arrival at the hotel. He chuckled darkly. He watched you walk back to him, face flushed, still clutching the parasol in one hand and the other one raising your skirt so that you wouldn’t tumble over your feet.

My, my, you truly are a fascinating soul.” He remarked, a hint of ominous delight in his voice. He had no doubt that you will dazzle everyone with your performance tomorrow and with his help. Afterwards…well, there will be no way for Vox to interfere. Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

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neil-gaiman · 5 months

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hi neil, it’s been a while since i’ve talked to you! just wanted to thank you for everything, you are my favorite author (and my moms, and her dads- i guess you are generational) and you’ve been such an inspiration and motivation to me every day. i know everyone says that, but it’s true. i’m in an academic team and we just recently started our regionals competition, and we were told to prepare and memorize a speech on pretty much anything, and surprise, i chose you! well, not you, but i chose to tell why i want to be an author, and you’ve had a pretty big hand in that. i’ll give you a shorter version at the end since it’s pretty long. again, thank you! truly.

When I was a kid, I had always wanted to be a writer. As I grew older, this dream of mine dissipated, seeming too unreliable to be a real career- until recently.

The ‘me’ of my childhood was scattered throughout the United States, leaving a piece of her youth at every new house we lived in. But one constant in my life, regardless of where I was living, was that I was always reading. Books were special to me, and kept me grounded when my life was going unpredictably. Each book was a world of its own, each story a lifeboat in a sea of uncertainty. Books were not just words on paper, they were my home, more than anywhere else. It is because of this that I strongly empathize with this quote from Neil Gaiman’s novel, The Ocean at the End of the Lane: “I’ve lived in books more than I’ve lived anywhere else.”

I am familiar with the quote in two ways. The first being in the way I grew up, living in many places but always finding home in my books. The second being one night, of uncertain longitudes and latitudes, I read my first Neil Gaiman novel- The Ocean at the End of the Lane. He soon became my favorite author.

Years later, my mom had gotten tickets for “An Evening With Neil Gaiman” at the Orpheum Theater. It continued to be rescheduled due to covid, but my mom and I held on to our tickets. That evening was all I could ever hope for. He gave us advice, which I’ve kept in my heart ever since. It was that very evening in which I decided I wanted to be on the other side of my passion for reading- I wanted to be the author. With an idol such as mine, how could I not?

I had kept writing in the back of my mind always, and on that night, it resurfaced. I gained my love for reading from my mother, and without it, Neil Gaiman would be a stranger to me, and I never would have rediscovered my passion for writing. Thank you.

as always, with love, ollie :)

You will do brilliantly. Keep going!

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endlessthxxghts · 6 months

Text

Routine

Frankie Morales x coffee shop worker!afab!reader || W/C: ≈7.9k

Summary: Frankie makes a new routine for himself to help with his mental health. In that routine, Frankie stumbles upon you.

Content/Warnings: POV switching - stops towards the end, then POVs are combined. Friends to lovers. Slightly scared and reluctant friends to lovers. Slow burn. Canon divergent to Frankie's Triple Frontier storyline (No history of lady or child for Frankie). Brief mentions of South America and Frankie's mental health. Brief therapy talk. Overthinking!Frankie, but Reader comforts and reassures him. He’s not insecure the entire time, promise lolol. Hints of angst, but this is me we’re talking about — always will be a happy ending here🫶. No physical description of reader besides coffee shop uniform (no size descriptions used) - any descriptions are neutral, no adjectives to describe (purely things like "your thigh" etc.). No use of "y/n". SMUT 18+ MDNI (making out, cunnilingus + fingering, unprotected P in V sex + cumming inside, breast worship/titty sucking). If there's anything that should be up here, please do not hesitate to let me know!

A/N: Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and happy days, everyone! This Christmas season, I was apart of @pedrostories' 2023 Secret Santa event where we gift some type of creation to another fellow Pedro-related blog on here. I'm honored to have created this story for the lovely @alwaysbethewest ! I'm a huge sucker for a soft man, so in reading the prompt you gave, I just had to write for good ol' Francisco Morales—the sweetest of the bunch. This story was so cute and sexy to write, I'm so excited to see what you think. I truly hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

Frankie

You need to create a routine.

One that takes you out of your house.

Out of your comfort zone.

These words rang in Frankie’s ear as he allowed his feet to make decisions for him today. Ever since South America, Frankie has been struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy again. He rarely leaves his house unless it’s for groceries or work — or as of the last few months, unless it’s for therapy.

Frankie’s therapist noticed he was falling back into his old habits, his old mannerisms; and in being prompted about what his day-to-day looked like outside of therapy, Frankie was met with those three phrases.

“You need to create a routine.”

“I have one,” Frankie says defensively.

“One that takes you out of your house.”

“I do,” he says. “Work. The store.”

“And out of your comfort zone.”

Frankie scoffs. As soon as he thinks of a quip, his therapist’s watch beeps. Saved by the bell.

Frankie rises, getting ready to leave the room. His therapist leaves him with a new assignment. “Clear your schedule. You’re doing nothing but spontaneous decisions tomorrow.”

He takes a breath to calm his frustration. “How will you even know if I’ve done it?” Frankie asks.

“I’ll know.”

“And if I lie?”

“I’ll know,” his therapist reassures.

Which is why he finds himself in the early afternoon at a coffee shop, during what looks like to be its busiest hours of the day. Shit.

He enters the line as he scans the menu on the wall, the line being long enough he’s sure he’ll make a decision by the time he gets to the register. He usually gets straight black coffee, but taking his therapist’s word a little too seriously, he opts for something else.

Hazelnut? No. Mocha? No. Vanilla? No. Fuck, okay, this is harder than it looks.

He scans the tinier board off to the side for today’s special: an horchata latte, either iced or hot. Horchata? He can absolutely get by that. The guy at the register takes the order of the customer in front of him, and the same guy switches off and begins to make the customer’s drink. Waiting to be helped, Frankie reaches into his pocket to get his wallet ready, but still angsty from the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop, his grip fumbles and he drops it.

He bends down to go pick it up, and as he stands back up, he’s immediately met by the most heartstopping view. You, with a brown apron, a hand-drawn name tag, and powdered sugar adorning your cheek. The smile on your face as you greet him causes his brain to short circuit.

“Hi! How can I help you today?” you beam at him, completely unaware of the cuteness radiating off of you, melting his anxieties made of wasps and transforming them into the shape of flapping butterflies all throughout his tummy.

“I- um, hi- yeah, I’d, um-” he stumbles on his words. You smile at him, nodding your head patiently and understanding. “Shit, sorry-” he laughs nervously.

“You’re okay,” you giggle, slightly intrigued at the flushed state of the man before you. “This your first time here? We’ve got a lot of options, it can be very nerve wracking picking from our menu,” you comfort, probably assuming it’s the first-time jitters taking away his ability to speak.

“Oh, uh- yeah, it’s my first time here,” Frankie confirms. “But actually, I had my mind set on today’s special? The horchata latte?”

Your face lights up like a million suns, and his heart feels like it’ll burst any second now. “Oh my gosh, really?!” you squeal. “That’s my creation we’ve highlighted today,” you say excitedly, “and you’re actually the first to order it!” You ring up his total, Frankie handing you his card to swipe in the machine. “Hot or iced?”

“What do you think?”

You study him for a moment. “Personally, I like iced because horchata in itself is already so refreshing, so it adds to that. But you seem like you’d prefer it hot, which is also objectively just as good.”

“Wow,” Frankie says with a smile.

“Was I accurate?”

“Right on the nail,” he confirms.

“Your name?” you ask, reaching for a cup.

“My name?” He asks, confused.

You gesture to the cup with a smirk. “For your order?”

“Oh,” he says. You catch the blush that falls on his cheeks. “Frankie,” he tells you, his hand shooting to the back of his neck to soothe his awkwardness.

“Well, Frankie,” you say after writing his name. “I’ll need an honest review after,” you smile at him as you turn away, signaling for someone else to take register so you can be the one to make his drink.

He can’t help the cheesy smile that forms across his face at the prospect of getting to speak with you again. He turns around and searches for an open table.

He sat on his phone for a few minutes, waiting for his name to be called when someone clears their throat in front of him. He looks up to see you, powdered sugar still kissing your cheek and two drinks — one iced and one hot — in your hands with that smile he’s slowly becoming addicted to.

“Didn’t know you guys do table service?” Frankie asks, in a joking manner but truly he’s curious.

“We don’t,” you smile smugly as you place his cup in front of him. “Told you I needed my review.”

He smiles at you, then reaches for a napkin and lifts his hand towards you as you sit in the seat across from him. He gestures to your cheek. “May I?” You go pale. “Oh, God, don’t tell me I’ve had shit on my face this entire time?”

“Okay, then I won’t,” he offers gently. You lean closer into his hand, giving him the green light. He wipes the powdered sugar from your cheek, his face in concentration mode as he makes sure to wipe it all off. He feels you staring, his face heating up the longer your eyes are on him, but he doesn’t break.

“There,” he whispers, “the shit is gone.” Your faces are still inches from each other.

“Thought you weren’t gonna say anything?” you whisper back.

He breaks the proximity first, clearing his throat to steady himself. He doesn’t reply to your remark. Instead, he grabs the coffee and brings it up to his lips. “Let’s see what this is all about, yeah?” The second the hot liquid touches his tongue, he knows his days of black coffee are over. It’s creamy, the perfect amount of cinnamon, a perfectly pulled espresso shot that highlights the natural nutty undertones — it’s fucking perfect, and he tells you exactly that.

“Guess now you’ve got an excuse to come back,” you tell him.

“I think I had an excuse before that,” Frankie quickly lets out before taking another heady sip, referring to the beautiful human sitting past him.

You lean back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest, something akin to trouble written across your face. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

He’s experienced enough to know when someone is flirting with him. He’s experienced enough to notice a mutual attraction. Yet, there’s something so bold, so intoxicating about you that you’ve thrown him off balance. Whether you’re just a naturally friendly, bold person, or you’ve actually taken an interest in him, there’s no way he’s going away now. You’ve got him hooked.

You need to create a routine, he was told, and creating a routine is exactly what he’s going to do.

It’s been six months since his first visit, and in those six months, he’s had the opportunity to really get to know you.

In the first month, he visited twice a week, once during the weekdays and once on the weekends. He made sure to time it on what he noticed to be your shift, and he also timed it for right when you were about to take your break. Catching on pretty quickly, you offer him a bit of reassurance.

“My schedule is the most consistent out of all of my coworkers, by the way,” you say, sipping on your iced mocha.

His ears perk up. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Been here the longest, so the owners let me play around with my schedule and pick up shifts that I want to,” you tell him. “But my therapist a few years ago told me to set a routine for myself, so-”

Frankie chokes on his coffee with a laugh.

“Oh my god,” you giggle, “you okay?” you ask him, leaning forward to pat on his back.

Frankie’s breath falters at the contact. “Y-yeah, I’m good,” he pulls away from your embrace out of nervousness. If you notice, you don’t mention it. “Just threw me off a little.”

“Why? What’d I say?” you reply.

“No, it’s nothing, it’s just,” he sets his coffee down. “A month ago, I had a therapy session, and my therapist told me the exact same thing. They literally told me I needed to create a routine for myself,” he says.

“Oh,” you say with a straight face. Your face goes unreadable for a second, and he feels like he fucked something up. “So is that why you’ve been harassing me for weeks on end?”

Frankie looks like he’s just seen a ghost, pale and flushed at the same time, his ability to form any kind of words rendered impossible. “I- no, I-”

In his state of panic, he’s looking everywhere except you. He feels your hands wrap around his, and you’re leaning closer to him, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Frankie, I’m joking,” you coo. You can see his jaw unclench as he searches your eyes for any signs of discomfort from him. Nothing. There’s something there as he holds your stare, but nothing tells him you don’t want him here. A shy smile forms on his face, and the bashful blush on his cheeks return. He knows you notice it, but still, you don’t mention it.

“For what it’s worth,” you speak again. “I enjoy having you in my routine, too,” his own giddy demeanor reflecting back at him through you. There goes the butterflies again.

Five months in, and he’s coming into the shop everyday. He doesn’t always get coffee, but mostly, he’s there to see you. Sometimes you’re way too busy to take a break any time soon, so he’ll slip in, give you a little wave hello, accept your sweet smile in return, and he’ll slip out.

“Gonna actually get something today, Morales?”

A few visits ago on your break, you ask him if his name is short for anything, and quickly add in that if Frankie is what he prefers, you don’t care to know anything else. His heart melts at the sentiment, at how understanding and gentle of a human you are. Not only to him, but to everyone who has the privilege to interact with you.

Francisco Morales, he tells you. Francisco, Frankie, Frank, you can call me whatever you want. This time, he thinks he catches the heat creeping on your face, but he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Morales, huh? And what do you mean actually?”

“I’m not dumb, Frankie,” you smirk. “I know you don’t get anything a few of the times you stop by.”

He swears his heart falls out of his ass. He thought you’d be too busy to even notice. As a former special op, he thought he would have been more slick about it.

He scans the menu above you, as if he hasn’t studied it a thousand times over, just to get out of your piercing gaze. “Just tryna keep the routine, is all,” he retorts.

“The routine, huh?” you smile at him, a hint of mischief in your eyes, along with that same something he can’t quite identify — it makes his chest swell. “Your favorite is back on the menu, by the way.”

Frankie turns to the special board: horchata latte. Smiling to himself before he responds, “I’ll have that, then,” he says, reaching for his card. “You going on your break now?” he asks.

“Yes,” you reply, “and coffee is on me today.”

His eyebrow quirks up at you. “Please?” you tell him with the world’s worst (more like cutest) puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen. How the hell can he say no to you now?

“Fine,” he deadpans.

You squeal in excitement. You shoo him away to go find a seat, and you’re at his side within moments, two hot cups in your hands.

He looks quizzically at the other cup. “I don’t know, I’m just feeling like a hot cup today,” you shrug. “What can I say, you’ve influenced me,” you giggle, not realizing just how much that statement affects Frankie’s crushing little heart. God, you’re beautiful, he can’t help but think as you curl up as best you can in your chair while you sip on your coffee. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way about you. One, you’re practically his best friend at this point, and two, you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with someone like him.

“So,” you say, pulling him from his thoughts.

“So,” he repeats.

“I was actually thinking of taking this weekend off,” you tell him.

His face falls a little, but he’s quick to fix it before you notice — hopefully. “Oh, is everything okay?” he asks.

“Nothing bad,” you reassure him. “I just think I need a little weekend to myself before the busy holiday season really starts.”

“That’s understandable,” Frankie replies.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “But…” you trail off.

“Buuuut?” He drags the word out for dramatic effect, sensing your nervousness and wanting to help calm you.

You giggle at his antics. “But I don’t wanna break our routine,” you say quietly. A little oh escapes his mouth. “I was wondering if you- if you wanted to hang out, maybe? On Saturday? Or even Sunday? Whatever works for you… and you can obviously say no, don’t feel obligated-”

It’s always been you cutting him off from his overthinking and comforting him, and now it’s his turn. He leans forward, wrapping his hands around yours as they hug your coffee cup. He gives you a little squeeze and calls your name gently. “I would love to.”

“Okay,” you say sweetly. “Wanna do a movie night?”

“Anything you want,” he tells you.

It’s surprising he didn’t have your phone number until five months in. Though, come to think of it, he’s seen you practically everyday since he met you. And there was no need to communicate beyond that. Right?

Shaking his head to clear him from his thoughts, he copies your address from your guys’ text thread and pastes it into his maps. It takes him five minutes to get to your place, and as soon as he gets to your front door, you’re already opening before he has a chance to knock.

“Oh! Frankie, hi,” you gasp delightedly. “Perfect timing,” you laugh. “I was just gonna grab the groceries out of my car. Go inside, make yourself at home.”

“Hi,” he smiles, “I can help with the groceries?”

“Oh, that’s okay, it’s just one bag. Give me one second,” you say walking to your car.

He waits for you as you grab the bag, both of you walking back inside together. “So I’m terrible at picking a movie, and if I didn’t narrow down our options, I feel like we’d be here all night deciding.”

“What do ya got for me?” he smiles as he makes his way to your couch, purely just enjoying being in your presence regardless of the movie you both decide to put on.

“Alright, since we’re nearing Christmas, I have a few holiday options, and then a few general of my favorites — Elf, The Grinch, or Home Alone; or we can do my personal favorite, but I promise I’m good with whatever you choose, Labyrinth, Paddington 1 or 2-”

Frankie’s eyes light up at the latter option, and you immediately catch on. “Okay, so I’m guessing one of the Paddington’s?” you say with a snort.

He grimaces. “Was it that obvious?”

“Frankie, you literally looked at me like I am your entire world,” you laugh. “Yes, it was that obvious.”

“I mean, it’s not any different than how I usually look at you,” Frankie says without thinking. Immediately his hand is on his mouth.

He sees the shock on your face for a millisecond before you’re back to your usual cool and collected self. How the fuck do you do that? “Okay but which Paddington? There’s only one right answer, here.”

Although his heart is still beating through his damn chest, the question puts him back on track. “Paddington 2, duh,” he says without missing a beat, he rolls his eyes as he playfully scoffs at you.

“Good answer,” you say sternly but with a smile. You set up your TV onto Paddington 2 and then quickly run to the kitchen to grab the popcorn you made. You set the bowl on your coffee table, turning back to grab something to drink. “What’s your drink of choice? I’ve got water, tea, soda — I can whip up a coffee for you, too, if you’d like,” you yell to him.

“Hmm, enticing, but I’m okay with water for now, though, thank you.”

You return back to your living room, scanning the table making sure you don’t need anything else. You ask Frankie if he does.

“Just you,” Frankie says, again, not thinking before he speaks. God damn it, Francisco, get it together.

You smirk at him, he sees your eyes tracing the red across his cheeks. Christ. “You’ve had me for a while, Morales,” you say under your breath, softly but still loud enough for him to hear. Your words genuinely cause his heart to skip a beat. You settle onto the couch beside him, ignoring his shocked face. “Ready to watch?” hints of your smugness still there.

“Y-yeah, ready,” he stutters.

Six months. It’s been six months since he met you and his old self would never have expected his day to day to look like this. He’s got a usual stop at your work—always on his lunch since you start later—sometimes getting coffee and other times your smile is all that he needs to feel energized for the day.

You

And on the weekends, you two share a movie night—your version of recharging for your next work week.

Ever since the first weekend you took off, you loved the mental break it gave you, so Frankie encouraged you to take the leap and start taking off every weekend. The owners agreed, of course. He assured you it wouldn’t break into your routine together. If anything, your time together has increased significantly. You genuinely have no idea what you’d do without Frankie at your side nearly every single day, but there’s something in your heart telling you he’s feeling the same way.

For six months, since the very first moment he fell bashful in his presence, you’ve been completely and utterly captivated by him. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling this way about him—especially not so early and not for this long—but there’s always been a magnetic pull between you. Both of you know it and neither of you can deny it, especially in the occasional flirty comment made by either of you, but there’s something holding you back from pushing for something more. You’ve grown accustomed to seeing him practically every single day, and one wrong move or one wrong boundary crossed, and suddenly everything is gone. You can’t risk it. You’d rather keep him at arm's length at all times rather than not have him at all. He’s your best friend for crying out loud. You cannot lose him to something so juvenile.

However, with tonight being your weekend ritual paired with a particularly draining week of work, all you wanted was to curl up in a ball and sleep your entire weekend away. Though, what you wanted more was to see Frankie. He told you it was truly okay if he didn’t come tonight, knowing about how hectic your week was, but you weren’t having any of that.

“I swear to God, Frankie, I will fight you,” you told him on the phone earlier.

“Oh, really?” You could hear his smug face in his reply. “I’d like to see you try.”

The butterflies erupt in your belly and begin to fly lower towards your core, igniting a spark in the lower part of you that you’ve been trying to keep at bay for months. You take a deep breath before steering the conversation elsewhere. You know he both hates and loves when you do that—smoothly pulling away from the bait he gives you while saving his ego in the process. You’ve gotten so good at this after years of unwanted flirting from customers. You didn’t realize how perfect this skill would be in keeping your distance from the man you want most.

“Shut up and get your ass over here, Morales,” you tell him. “I know where you live, you should be here by the time I change into my damn pajamas.”

“Should I change into mine, too?” He teases.

You both know Frankie loses every flirty little challenge that occurs between you. Which is why he isn’t surprised at your response, but it still stirs him up nonetheless. “That depends,” you say, your voice dropping in tone. “Are you a gray sweatpants or plaid pajama pants kind of guy?”

“Both,” he says. To the average ear, it’d sound like the most casual response. To your ear, though, you can hear the pain laced in his voice.

You stifle a giggle. “In that case, yes, please, by all means. Change into your pajamas, baby.”

You don’t leave room for him to reply, ending the call before you can overthink how that was the most suggestive flirty comment you’ve made yet.

Pulling your head back into focus mode, you go to your kitchen to start preparing the usual snacks you two indulge in during these nights. You also got a new ice cream flavor on your last grocery run that you thought was interesting and wanted to try, but you’ll pull that out when he gets here. Or maybe not. You don’t need to watch him clean off his spoon like the attentive man you’ve come to learn that he is. Your body shudders at the image.

Goodness, what is up with you today? You are always so good at keeping your feelings down, especially the physical ones. There must be something in the air today, because all you can think about are things you shouldn’t be doing with or to your best friend.

Before you know it, a knock is at your door, and you cannot help the way your eyes immediately sweep his body from top to bottom with a lingering stare at his center. You’re absolutely shameless with it, too, your tongue darting out to lick your lips as you drink in the sight of him. Gray sweatpants. A dark green, fitted tee. You are drooling.

Your eyes finally meet his own, and you’re met with a smug Frankie, knowing that this time, he won this round. “You alright there?” He asks you.

Confusion takes over your face. “Huh?”

He brings his fingers up to swipe across his lip. Oh, dear God. “Got a little bit of...” he trails off with a smile.

Your ears finally register his remark, and your hand is immediately swatting at his chest. “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “Get inside.”

He follows you into the kitchen, a new thing he started doing a few weekends ago to help bring all the snacks to your living room in one go rather than multiple trips. It also takes away from the amount of time he’s not with you, so you never questioned it. Walking back to the living room, you speak once more. “I cannot guarantee staying up the entire time, and I apologize now if I fall asleep on you.”

He says your name in an I told you so manner, “I already told you I didn’t have to come.”

You’re sitting side by side on the couch now. “And I already told you I don’t care,” you respond back. He shakes his head disapprovingly at your persistence. You know he’s biting back a smile. A goofy smile you’ve caught a handful of times, and you eat up every single one. “You can choose the movie, though, seriously.” Adjusting yourself to a more comfortable position on the couch, a position where the sides of your bodies are closer together, your head finding solace on his shoulder, you add, “I swear, I think I wanted you here to be my pillow.”

“I’ll be anything you want me to be,” he whispers, taking control of the remote to throw on Elf. Your eyes are already beginning to close, and you mutter a small yeah at Frankie’s statement, then you are out like a light.

Frankie

Frankie spends most of the night watching and listening to you rather than the movie. Watching how your nose twitches ever so often or listening to the occasional snore that escapes you. He doesn’t even realize the movie is over until a trailer for another movie is halfway through. His wingspan allows him to reach the remote nearby, and he quickly shuts the television off.

He debates if he should wake you and make sure you get to your bed safely, or if he should just slip out from underneath you and continue letting you sleep. You look so peaceful, he thinks. Yet exhausted. He decides on letting you sleep. Or at least, he tries to.

He gently attempts separating himself from you, his hand cradling your head to rest it on the couch cushion rather than his shoulder. Even in your sleepy state, you’re just as stubborn. You smack his hand away and wrap your arms tighter around his arm, nuzzling your head further into his shoulder to gain your comfort back again. You let out a final huff before settling on your position.

“Sweet girl,” he whispers. He can’t stop the endearment leaving his lips. His heart is too full at the way you’re physically attaching yourself to him. “I need to go,” he says softly. “Gotta let you sleep.”

Your grip tightens more so, a little whimper leaving your lips as your eyebrows furrow. “Stay,” you mumble.

And although you’re fully overtaken by sleep, he’ll be damned if he ever argues with you, no matter the state you’re in. He takes a deep, settling breath. “Only for a little while longer,” he mumbles unconvincingly as he minutely adjusts his body to a more comfortable position, his head leaning partly atop yours.

You

It’s not lost on you—the two words that fell from Frankie’s lips when he thought you were deep in your slumber. It took every ounce of your willpower not to shudder at the way it echoed throughout your fatigue-hollowed brain.

You thought that maybe, with Frankie’s perception of your sleepy state, you could let part of your inhibitions go with him—reveal to him how you really feel, and pretend the next morning that you don’t remember what you said if something you don’t want to hear is revealed. Though, that’s easier said than done, only able to build the courage to mutter one little word to him as you continue laying in his warm embrace, the soothing sounds of his steady breathing blessing your ears.

The longer you lay here, the more antsy you become. What could possibly go wrong if you two revealed how you feel to each other? You know one hundred percent that the feelings are mutual; it’s a matter of who breaks first, and quite honestly? You’re fed up.

You lift your head up, turning to look at him. He’s out. “Frankie,” you whisper-yell. Nothing.

“Frankie,” you say a little louder. Still nothing. How the hell did he doze so fast?

Finally, with a small slap to his cheek and one final call of his name, he’s up—and confused as fuck.

“Huh-” he blinks heavily. His groggy eyes are searching for you. “Cariño, are you okay? What’s going on?” he rushes out, the sleep disorienting his ability to respond appropriately, forcing worry to the forefront of his mind. Too worked up to let his brain chemistry regulate, you rip the bandaid right off. “Francisco, do you have feelings for me?”

Well, fuck. If he wasn’t awake then, he sure as hell is now.

“I-” he takes a deep breath, still trying to get his brain to catch up with the whiplash of events. “Where’s this coming from?” he asks, slightly defensive from the natural accusatory inflection with a question like this.

Your face falls. So does his heart. “Frankie, don’t be coy,” you say—you beg. “Please, just answer the question.”

He breaks your closeness, turning his body on the couch to completely face him. You mirror his movement. His eyes are searching yours. That something he couldn’t quite identify; that something that swims your gaze every time his eyes meet yours? It’s there, and he knows damn well what it is. He was just too afraid to admit it, to mortalize it into something real, something tangible. Because deep down? He knows he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve the love you give. The loyalty. The care. He’s done too much bad in this world to even fathom a mere chance at a life with you.

But the way you sit there, staring back at him like he’s your entire world, he can’t stop the selfish desire to spill his truth to you.

“Yes,” he lets out. The pure admittance is like a ton of weights have been completely lifted off of his chest after carrying it for so long. He can see the relief on your face, too, all your anxieties washing away with a single-syllable, three letter word.

“Oh, thank God,” you softly giggle as you choke back a sob. Frankie can feel his eyes tear up.

“Frankie?” you call.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Please kiss me.”

His hands are on your cheeks in seconds, pulling you in to slot his lips with yours, a sweetness laced with a fire that’s been begging to be ignited since he met you—powdered sugared cheeks and a smile that could take a person out faster than any punch in the gut could.

It’s quick to grow more passionate, his tongue dancing across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You let him in, of course—your tongue falls into a perfect tango, as if it were meant to be doing this dance with him all along. A soft, breathy moan escapes your lips, and you eventually build enough strength to pull away.

Frankie’s quick to apologize, his overthinking getting the best of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so carried away-”

You pull him in for a quick kiss to shut him up, a little laugh swirling in the air. “At what point did I make it feel or sound like I wasn’t enjoying that?”

In the dim light of your living room, you see a familiar tint glow across his nose and cheeks. He doesn’t—and can’t—respond to your very sound logic. “No, I-” you start, suddenly feeling yourself get all shy. “I pulled away because I- um…I was wondering if y-you-” you cut yourself off in frustration, grumbling out at the way you suddenly can’t face the man whose tongue was in your throat moments ago.

You pick yourself up off the couch, grab his wrist, and swiftly lead you two to your bedroom. Crossing the threshold of your room, you stop at the edge of your bed. “I-is this okay?”

Frankie stares at you in a trance, a lust-filled yet pure adoring trance. Before your eyesight can register, Frankie’s dropping to his knees, hands on your hips to urge you to settle on your bed. “This is okay,” he promises.

He kisses your belly through your pajamas. “More than okay,” he mumbles to no one in particular.

“Frankie,” you whimper.

“Can I taste you, baby?” He asks, his gaze finally breaking from your eyes to glance down to your core.

“Y-you don’t have to,” your voice quivers.

His fingers find the hem of your pants, waiting for your signal. “Oh, I don’t have to,” he tells you. “But I want to,” he inhales. “To be honest, I need to, so fucking bad, baby.”

“Fuck,” you say as you rapidly nod your head for him, his hands wasting no time in pulling your bottoms of you. The desperation laced in his voice alone has your eyes wanting to roll back. You’re settling yourself to the edge of your bed, leaning back as you spread your legs for him. “Take what you want, Morales,” you declare.

He smirks before he dives in. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Oh!” you gasp out at the sensation, pure warmth and passion behind his movements, your head struggles to maintain upright at the sight. Your bottom lip instinctively hides between your teeth in an attempt to stifle the moans threatening to escape you, your tiny little whimpers the only sounds escaping you.

He starts with a flat stripe up your cunt, his tongue gliding through your folds and lapping up your wetness to bring it up to circle your clit a few times before dragging back down to your entrance. His fingers are curling into your bed sheet tightly, scared to cross any boundaries by moving too fast to your liking. His cock instantly jumps at his senses being consumed; your sweet, tangy taste mixed with the distinct, saccharine scent that’s uniquely you—he can’t control the groan that escapes his throat and floods through you. God, he could spend forever worshiping at your altar, completely and utterly content.

He pulls away momentarily, the slick bottom half of his face shining back at you. “I just know you can make a lot more of those sweet sounds for me, cariño,” he says as his tongue licks his bottom lip. “It’s just you and me, baby, let me hear you,” he says with a sharp flick of his tongue to your clit. “F-fuck,” you yelp out, your body jolting at the sudden piercing pleasure of his tongue’s movement, your fingers scrambling to the curls on his head. He looks up to you with a smirk, reveling in your reaction.

And with that, his hands are gripping your thighs, his face jumping right back in, completely flush against your center, his nose squished against your mound. His eyes are rolling back at the feel of you, the way your slick just pours for him as he continues licking and sucking everywhere he can reach. “F-feel so good,” you moan, your strength finally breaking as your upper body crashes down onto the bed, your back arching in pleasure.

His dominant hand releases your thigh, and you can feel his finger teasing your entrance as his mouth treks back up to your needy bundle of nerves. “Frankie,” you gasp, “please.”

He moans a raspy mhm into you, his finger not wasting another second before he dips inside, utterly turned on at the warmth wrapped around his finger. He can only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his aching length.

Frankie lifts off your clit with a pop, his finger still pumping in and out, in and out. Your hips are meeting each movement, desperate moans and incoherent pleas leaving your mouth as he watches your pleasure in a pure bliss.

His eyes fall back down to your cunt and the way it’s greedily swallowing his middle finger. “God damn, baby,” he mutters. “I think you can take another, sweet girl,” he breathes, leaning down again to place an open-mouthed kiss on your sensitive center. “What do ya think?” he asks breathily.

He’s watching every inch of you—the way your thighs are twitching, the way your fingers are stark white in its grip, the way your mouth is falling open into a weak o-shape as you try and force words to leave your mouth. “P-please,” you attempt, “a-another-”

Immediately, he’s straightening out his ring finger to join his middle, his smug smirk falling into a desperate one, needing to pull every ounce of pleasure he can from you really his only goal for tonight. “I’ve got you, cariño,” he tells you, his mouth returning back to lavish you as his fingers curl and hit the spongy trigger button from deep inside.

You practically yell out for him—neighbors be damned—as your orgasm overtakes every inch of your being, catapulting you into another pleasure-filled dimension. “I’ve got you,” he comforts with his lips still attached to your skin, “let go for me, mi amor.”

His fingers are still pumping inside of you, fucking you through the intense wave of your orgasm. His head rests on your thigh, pressing soft kisses and sweet praises as you slowly gain consciousness.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Too good to me.”

“Estoy tan enamorado de ti.”

Frankie takes your hazy disposition for granted, using this small window to whisper everything he’s been wanting to say to you forever.

You begin to whimper at his movements, and he takes that as his queue to relieve you. His fingers finally leave, his mouth taking the responsibility of lapping up your slick—thoroughly, you note, as you watch him rise to his full height.

“You okay, cariño?” He asks as he swiftly takes his shirt off. Your eyes grow impossibly darker at his bare torso, your spit falling thicker, and you’re quick to scramble yourself up higher onto your bed.

“More than okay,” you mirror his words from earlier. He lets out a little laugh, the butterflies in his tummy ever-present as his eyes scan you up and down. He pulls down his sweats, too, before he’s kneeling on the bed, crawling up towards where you’re situated. You can’t help the way your smirk falls when your eyes do—pure hunger consumes your features, and Frankie’s cock jumps at the sight.

He gulps at the way you’re eating him alive, too eager to be inside you yet too nervous in the case of accidentally messing anything up. The last thing he wants to do is cross the line with you.

As if reading his mind, you take the initiative to pull your top off, your boobs an immediate distraction from his anxieties. “Don’t get shy on me now, Morales,” you say as you let your hands caress your body and make its way down to your still-soaked pussy. “She’s feeling so empty,” you pout, your hips bucking up as your fingers rub your clit.

You swear Frankie’s eyes flash red, and he’s caging you against your bed within seconds. One arm hooked around your waist, the other holding himself up near your head. You bracket his hips with your own as his lips hungrily crash into yours.

You can feel the way his cock rubs against your center, his hips grinding into yours, letting his tip catch onto your clit as your tongues fight for dominance. Your hand snakes down without him realizing, a hearty gasp leaving his throat as your fingers pump him a few times before you guide him towards your entrance, easily pulling him in with your post-orgasm slick.

He’s slow with the way he’s thrusting into you; pulling out until only the tip is inside only to push all the way in at an agonizing pace as he lets you get used to his size.“S-shit,” he whimpers, followed by your name. “So d-damn g-good,” he takes a shaky breath. “‘S like you were m-made f’me,” he forces out, pained.

Even though it was an easy glide in, Frankie is fucking huge, his girth still providing a slight sting of a stretch, but you love it. You’re gonna feel him inside you for days at a time, and the thought makes your pussy flutter around him. His hold on your waist tightens in an attempt to steady any squirming that might come from you. “Gonna fucking cum already if you keep on like that, honey,” he groans. His eyes are shut in pained pleasure.

Fighting against his hold, you start meeting his thrusts, the angle of your hips providing the perfect friction against your clit, you just might cum again in seconds if you both keep this up.

“I don’t care,” you tell him, your ankles locking around his waist. “Fuck me, Frankie,” you say, grabbing onto his face to making him look at you. “Make up for loss time, and fuck me,” you snarl.

His lips are sloppily on you, hips speeding up, pounding into you deliciously hard. Both of you are too lost in the pleasure to even properly kiss right now—a mess of spit, tongue, and teeth clashing as you swallow each other’s moans.

Frankie breaks his lips from yours and he trails his touch lower, biting onto your chin and nipping lower and lower all over your neck. The sensation causes a fresh wave of flutters at your core, evident in the even louder wet squelch each thrust produces from between you.

You’re feeling so good, too good, that your chest arches into him, and Frankie takes the opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipples. Licking and sucking on each, slathering them in his spit before ultimately latching onto your left breast and practically making out with it as he continues fucking you into your matress.

“Oh my God, Frankie,” you whine, eyes clamping shut at just how good he’s making you feel. “Just like that, baby, please don’t stop,” you say, your fingers finding purchase in his curls for a second time tonight, keeping him on your chest. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum again.”

He lifts off your left breast, and moves on to the right, trailing wet kisses on his path over. “Let me feel you, princesa,” he mutters as he gives your other breast the same treatment. His hand leaves your waist to make its way to your clit, giving you the extra push you needed to fall off the edge once more. Your pussy clenches at the feeling—a stream of yes and please and fuck leaves your mouth—causing his stomach to tighten, dragging him to the edge along with you. “Cum with me,” you say. “Cum in me,” you quickly revise, “need to feel you,” you whimper.

His fingers speed up on you as his hips falter in its rhythm, and then it’s pure white, hot bliss consuming both of you in a way neither of you have ever felt. “Oh, fuck,” he lets out as he lifts off of your breast, pretty red flowers blooming under his mouth’s touch. Fireworks erupt behind your eyelids, vibrating you from the inside out, as a fire roars through every nerve of his body, leaving him a heaving, trembling, jello piece of mass above you as he struggles not to crush you.

You can feel the way his muscles are shaking, the bed vibrating with him. A giggle filled with ecstasy escapes you, relishing in the contrast of the airiness of your body compared to the solid mass he turns into post-orgasm.

You grab onto his shoulders, and softly nudge him to slide to lay beside you before you slip off on jello legs to the bathroom and kitchen. With as much strength he can muster, he turns to you with a frown. “Where you going?”

“Just gonna get a cloth and water for us both, baby,” you chuckle. You head to the kitchen first and bring the waters to your night stand, taking a large gulp from your glass and forcing him to do the same. You bring yourself back to the bathroom and wipe yourself with a warm cloth, throw it in the hamper, and get a new one to clean Frankie.

You make your way to his bedside, and you bring the cloth to his face first. He’s quick to stop you. “Frank,” you scold. “What are you doing?”

“I…” his face goes red. “I can still smell you on me.”

You swear your knees buckle, heat overtaking your entire body. “Let me clean it,” you whisper, not really knowing how to reply to that. He just gives you puppy dog eyes. You quirk your eyebrow at him. “You can taste me again later,” you offer with a smirk.

He thinks it over for a second, a sigh escaping his lips like he just made the hardest decision ever. “Fiiiine,” he drags out, exaggerated.

After you wipe the rest of him down and bring his cloth to your hamper, he’s quick to reach for you with grabby hands, always needing to be in your embrace—especially more so now.

You cuddle facing each other, your head tucked into his neck as your legs tangle with one another. He’s drawing shapes and lines all around your back.

“Hey, Frankie?” you call out.

“Yeah, cariño?”

“You said something earlier,” you say. “Estoy enamorado something. What does that mean?”

Frankie’s ears go hot. Surely after everything you two just did together, that’s a declaration of love in itself. What more if it’s actually verbalized? “Oh. Um- yeah,” he replies a little rigidly. “Estoy tan enamorado de ti,” he repeats the phrase.

You’re looking up at him now, eyes bright and curious. “Yeah, that!”

“It- um- it means…” he trails off. He meets your gaze, and his heart stops. He’s so in love with you.

“Well,” he clears his throat. “It means I’m so in love with you.”

Your gaze shifts from one of curiosity to one of pure, unfiltered love. Your eyes are tearing up at his admission. He brings his finger up to catch a tear escaping your eye.

You sniffle and take a shaky breath in. “Well, in that case. I’m so in love with you,” you state matter-of-factly, pushing your body up to catch his lips in a soft but lengthy kiss, one that hopefully translates to him just how much you love him, need him, and want him—ever since you took his order.

He releases your lips to place a soft kiss to your nose then to your forehead before pulling you in closer to relax in each other’s hold. A few more moments pass before he calls your name.

“Hm?”

“Can you remind me tomorrow to reach out to my therapist?”

“Of course, baby,” you say with a kiss to his chest. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, baby, everything’s good,” he confirms. “Just need to send them a gift basket or something.”

You look up at him with a confused look on your face. “You and your therapist give each other gifts during Christmas?”

“No,” he tells you. “Well, I thought we didn’t. But in telling me to fix my routine, they led me to you, so.”

“Baby,” you frown, feeling yourself tear up again.

“I know I pay ‘em to do this,” he says, “but a gift like this? A miracle like this? I feel like I’ve gotta give something a little more.”

Unable to hold in your emotions, you crash your lips against his for the millionth time tonight. Pulling away a little breathless, you say, “Sign my name on there, too.”

End note: Again, I truly hope you, @alwaysbethewest (and everyone else) were able to enjoy the way this sweet sweet story unfolded. I didn't realize just how much their dynamic would mean to me, but here we are, an entire piece of my heart later💚. Thank you for prompting me exactly what you did. I'm endlessly grateful. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year! Lastly, I just want to give a little special shoutout to my rock @javierpena-inatacvest for proofreading this story for me and making sure it did our Frankie boy justice. I love you.💚

Tags: @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @survivingandenduring @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @yorksgirl

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future stories or would like to stop being tagged altogether. Much love! Xx

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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onceuponastory · 8 months

Text

one single word - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: In a world where the first thing your soulmate says to you is somewhere on your body, Y/N soon realises that hers is not what she expected... or what she wants. (Soulmate!AU). Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Just some swearing and reader worrying she's going to end up alone. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is my piece for @lunarbuck's Soulmate AU writing challenge! Congrats on 2k! Also can't believe it took me so long to use a pic of Seb from this day because he looked SO GOOD. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Has your word shown up yet? Just got mine!” Wanda’s text comes in. Groaning, Y/N types back a reply.

“Yup.” Immediately, Wanda sends another.

“It’s that bad? I’ll be straight over.” She promises, and Y/N goes back to staring at herself in the mirror, unable to tear her gaze away from the word which is now on her side. From a young age, Y/N and everyone else in this world were told that when they got older, the first words their soulmate said to them would soon appear on their body somewhere, disappearing only when they met the soulmate in question. And of course, it led to a lot of excitement and nervous apprehension as people wondered what words would be there, and imagined what scenario they’d meet their soulmate in.

None more so than Y/N. As she grew up, she became an author, which meant that writing loving words about others became her job, and something she now has a huge amount of experience in. All day every day, she writes paragraph after paragraph of people describing how beautiful their partners are, how much their heart beats whenever they’re around, and how they want to spend the rest of eternity with them. And the entire time, Y/N’s own soulmate is in the back of her mind, as well as her hope that their first meeting is as romantic as her stories. So obviously, Y/N had grown to expect that the words - her words - that her soulmate would end up having on their skin would be something beautiful, like poetry.

Unfortunately for Y/N, though, it seems her soulmate didn’t have the same consideration for her.

Because there, on her side, emblazoned in huge letters is one single word. “Fuck.” “It’s not that bad.” Wanda soothes as she studies the word. Thankfully, she showed up soon after receiving Y/N’s text for moral support.

“Yes, it is! Today I wrote someone saying their lover’s eyes are as bright as the stars, and with them they feel whole. And do I get that? No, I get ‘Fuck!’”

“Maybe he’s saying ‘Fuck.’ but then he says ‘you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen’?”

“Or it could be ‘fuck’ because they stepped on my toes. Or maybe they dropped coffee on me? Or-” Y/N shakes her head, trying to shake herself out of her panic. Yet, it only intensifies. “And besides, it’s such a general word! What if I get confused and think someone else is my soulmate?”

“That isn’t going to happen. Personally, I think we have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.”

“You’re such a romantic, Wanda.”

“Says you.” She rolls her eyes. When Y/N freaks out a little again, Wanda shushes her with a gentle: “Calm down. You’re going to give me a headache at this rate. And besides, it could be worse! Mine is ‘Hello there’. What even is that?!” she groans, taking another sip from her drink.

“Oh please, yours is suave and sophisticated.” Y/N argues. “Maybe it’s a ‘Hello there.’” She mimes a smirk, looking Wanda up and down. “And then he says, ‘may I just say that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?’”

“Either that or they’re doing a horrendously bad Obi-Wan Kenobi impression.” Wanda counters, making her and Y/N dissolve into fits of giggles. “But seriously. You don’t know what causes him to say that. Nobody does. That’s the beauty of soulmates.” She grins reassuringly. “And besides, I’m sure it’ll be a funny story to tell your kids one day.”

And for a while, her reassuring words worked, and Y/N's feelings about the word permanently inked onto her side improved slightly. But the longer time went on without meeting her soulmate, Y/N started to think they don’t exist at all. And what’s worse, she’d be stuck with this single word on her side for the rest of her life, an enduring reminder of her failure to find her true love.

A few months later,

Y/N walks down the street, preoccupied by her phone call. Her publisher has been ringing her almost every day this week, desperate to know when they can expect her next manuscript. The same manuscript that’s been sitting incomplete on her laptop for the last several months. Understandably, love hasn’t been high on the list of Y/N’s priorities ever since she realised what her soulmate’s first word to her was.

When she catches sight of herself in a shop window, noticing the hem of her sweater has ridden up, exposing the k and most of the c of the word on her side, it makes her feel worse. Of course, she still hasn’t found her soulmate. Nothing like yet another reminder of how you’re failing in life. Quickly rolling down her sweater, covering the word that seems to be burned into her skin by this point, Y/N keeps walking. In a last-ditch attempt to find some productivity and get this fucking manuscript finished, she’s decided to visit her favourite coffee shop. That and she just really wants an iced coffee.

“When…if I ever find my soulmate, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.” She huffs, reaching out to grab the door handle to the coffee shop. Before she can open it, the door slams open, almost hitting her in the face. Luckily, Y/N manages to dodge the figure that almost crashes into her. This is the last fucking thing she needs right now. She rounds on the man, ready to give him a piece of her mind, to ask him, no, demand that he looks where he’s going next time, and be careful!

That’s what she wanted to say. What she should’ve said.

The beautiful pair of blue eyes she suddenly finds herself staring into stops her. As blue as the sky on a gorgeous summer's day, as blue as the ocean, inviting her into their depths. This man is gorgeous. His muscles bulge out through the blue shirt (the same colour as his eyes) he has opened over a vest top. His brunette hair is pulled into a man bun, a few loose tendrils sticking out. The man’s eyes widen as he takes her all in, realising how close he came to spilling his coffee all over her.

And then he speaks.

“Fuck.” He murmurs, his voice just loud enough for her and only her to hear. Immediately, Y/N registers her heartbeat stop.

“What did you just say?” She gasps. Instead of repeating his words, the man’s eyes widen even more, almost bulging out of his head. He rolls down the sleeve of his shirt, displaying the slowly fading words printed on his shoulder.

“What did you just say?”

“Does yours say ‘fuck’, by any chance?” The man chuckles, still clearly in shock, and wordlessly, Y/N nods, lifting her sweater to show him.

“Oh, my god.” They both speak at the same time. The man holds a hand out, which Y/N shakes. “I’m Bucky. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.” Nervously he rubs the back of his neck, and Y/N notices a burst of pink spreading across his cheeks. “Can I just say you look absolutely gorgeous?” He stammers a little. “Sorry, I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to say right now. It’s not everyday you meet your soulmate.”

“We have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.” Wanda’s words echo in her mind, and Y/N’s shock turns into a smile, all thoughts of giving her soulmate a piece of her mind gone as quickly as the word on her side. At first she brushed Wanda’s words aside, but she’s actually totally right. Being with Bucky, it finally feels right. Like the missing pieces she’s spent so long looking for are finally in place.

“I know.” Y/N nods. “But it’s completely understandable. To be honest, I’m still in shock too. I’m Y/N by the way.”

"Y/N." Bucky smiles.��I am sorry for almost spilling my coffee over you.” He chuckles, and Y/N giggles.

“Already forgotten about.”

“I, um, I need to head off, but how about we grab some dinner tonight?” Bucky grins. “We have a lifetime to catch up on.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Y/N smiles.

It may not have been the most perfect meeting… at least, not compared to her romance novels, but Y/N doesn’t care. Because it turned out to be perfect for her.

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solurae · 8 months

Text

four eyes (more to love underneath the frames) : prologue

nerd!miguel o’hara is the talk of the town and i wanna put my own spin on it :D sooo expect a little bit of everything hehe :DDD - HAHA AS I WAS WRITING THIS I REALISED I GOT TOO INVESTED SETTING THE SCENE SO I MIGHT MAKE THIS A SERIES! i’ll just say this is a prologue hooray

IF YOU WOULD LIKE A SERIES PLS INTERACT!!! FEEL FREE TO ASK TOO TO SHARE YOUR MIGGY THOUGHTS AND I WILL HAPPILY INDULGE US BOTH :3

a distinct pair of black, rectangular glasses were adjusted by miguel’s middle finger before it glided across the pages of notes he wrote from the lecture for his genetics class. a class that you both happen to share, but neither of you knew that yet.

miguel o’hara - a man so deep in his books that he might as well be the dean of the dean’s list - payed no heed to anyone or anything that could hinder his focus. the furrowing of brows indicated further analysis rather than the annoyance towards second year business majors. no, he wasn’t the annoying, stuck-up person who would ask more questions than give answers. he thinks they’re wasting their time anyway. he was always the last person to leave the lecture theatre. miguel would be huddled by the professor, covering the whiteboard with punnett squares or outlining control variables for the next lab.

he was only person in your genetics class that had a real chance of passing the course, the scowls of your peers and your friends could attest to that.

you wouldn’t say you were on the same boat as everyone though, your friends were always nagging you to help them but you couldn’t even figure out how you understood some of the content. this specific course was an integral part of your degree and the best chance of impressing the school, you had to give it your all.

you would be lying if genetic sequences and chromosomes weren’t the only things you had memorised. you loved the hue of brown locks that would shine from the tall windows of the theatre, the curls which your eyes would follow forever if he happened to sit in front of you. the pout of his lips as he’d scratch his hair in response to a lab practical that didn’t make sense, only for him to make sense of it hours later.

his eyes were red. it was his most defining feature, and a key factor to why - to your advantage, if you really think about it - people steer clear of o’hara. as much as it increases your chances of befriending him, let alone being with him, your classmates and other students weren’t so quiet about their dislike for the irish-mexican spectacle.

he’s so quiet. too quiet.

he looks like a freak! look at his eyes, bro. what is he some fucking vampire or something?

no wonder he’s on the dean’s list because he isn’t on anyone else’s for sure.

god he’s just so…

weird.

miguel was extremely fit, which was what confused a lot of people when they found out he wasn’t a copy-paste jock that still thinks they’re in highschool like most men of his stature were. his build put them to shame regardless. after being bombarded by women and men of every cohort - only for miguel to ignore them or coldly decline - word spread like wildfire and soon enough people were disappointed that the former heart-throb of first and second year turned out to be a major loser. some people would go out of their way to show how much they don’t like him, and these are people miguel’s never even spoken to. they would “crash” into him walking across campus, try and trip him over and even go as far as sitting on the other side of the room if it wasn’t so clear already.

but he didn’t mind. he was always at the library, the lab or the cafeteria closest to the lab anyway. it bothered you to see him alone and quiet unless he had a question or an answer, you genuinely wanted to be friends with him.

but as the story goes, it’s always these type of men that have a part of themselves they keep under wraps. you just know that there’s more to his brooding and stoic nature, the carnelian shades of his eyes lured you closer as opposed to keeping you away.

you decided to do honours for two reasons: a better resume and the fact that miguel unsurprisingly decided to do it too. you had a thesis in your head and you had all year to test it out.

miguel o’hara was more than just some nerd and you were gonna need more than glasses to prove it.

🩷 — PART ONE!

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sohnric · 4 months

Text

bad idea, right? – k. sunwoo

pairing: soundcloud rapper! sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: exes to lovers, angst, suggestive. i know this is toxic as fuck dont @ me sometimes i like to write shit like this because it's realistic...

word count: 4k

warnings: a whole lot of arguing, swearing, both of them being toxic and childish, a heated makeout session, overall just..messy. so messy.

a/n: similivinlife u inspired this. not my proudest moment but oh well 😵 the original of this draft was for the fic dancing in my backseat on @rrxnjun that i didnt end up using and revamped for this, so if u see any similarities it is because both fics are mine :P and once again, as always, thank u @csenke my sweetest beloved for beta reading 🤍

“I don’t think you can imagine the things I have to deal with about that track, like, I was literally in the town yesterday and around six people stopped me and wanted the backstory and I don’t know what, and it’s really, really annoying–”

Your voice cuts off, being replaced by a beat that makes acid taste on your tongue and hair stand up all alert, like a feral cat’s would when you try to get close to it, making you immediately turn off the song, letting a scream out into your pillow. There’s a storm of emotions inside of you as you take the phone you’ve been listening to the new song on back into your hand and pull up his number– because you blocked him everywhere else in hopes of never seeing his face again– and shoot him an angry text about the matter.

you [7:21pm]: are you kidding me???

you [7:21pm]: you are really so damn egoistical for doing this

you [7:21pm]: really don’t think about anyone else except yourself huh

you [7:21pm]: ignore my messages again like the last time and i swear to god i’ll send someone to beat your ass

Fingers quicker than your own thoughts, you hammer down the messages on the keyboard, laced with the fury that’s been shaking with you ever since you learned that he released a new track that included yet another one of your voice messages you sent to him. It was excruciating to listen to, to say the least– your dignity stripped away slowly, piece by piece with the unsettling realization that your personal matters are now out there in the open, for everyone to see and judge, for the whole world to pick apart and analyze. Which is kind of funny, considering the nature of your breakup– you’re not so sure his fans would like what they would find out about him, had they dug deep enough.

Not saying that you are innocent in this matter, of course– you just don’t think it’s really fair to not have the platform to tell your side of the story.

don’t pick up [7:24pm]: feisty one aren’t ya

don’t pick up [7:24pm]: what’s this about

Clenching your jaw as you stare at the messages popping up on your screen only a few minutes after yours get delivered– which is unusual for him, to say the least– you work your way through another angry reply.

you [7:25pm]: your song???

don’t pick up [7:25pm]: did you like it? ;)

A dry chuckle escapes your throat at the last message. Of course you didn’t like it. You weren’t really a fan of the invasion of your privacy. You didn’t like the fact that he once again used your voice without permission, letting the whole world listen to your angry words that were addressed to him and only him. What was there for you to like about the song? His cheesy lyrics? The way he acted like he was way above you, belittling you with the power he had over you with all those voice messages?

you [7:26pm]: yes i loved the invasion of my privacy a lot, thank you sunwoo

you [7:26pm]: isnt this illegal? ill look into it

don’t pick up [7:27pm]: now you’re being ridiculous.. its just a song y/n :)

Was he being serious? Just a song? What about the prying eyes staring at you whenever you walk through the campus? What about the whispering behind your back whenever you sit in the school cafeteria? The pointed fingers whenever someone recognises that it’s you– the one that dated the good-for-nothing Soundcloud rapper and then broke his poor little heart. Was it ever really just a song?

you [7:28pm]: you cant be fr rn..

don’t pick up [7:33pm]: ah…let’s just talk abt it then

don’t pick up [7:33pm]: i’ll pick u up at 8?

Staring at the messages on the screen, you let out another dry chuckle. The skin of your fingertips tingles when you swipe across the surface of your phone, opening the messaging app once again and tapping on the little bubble on the bottom, making the keyboard appear. The gears in your brain turn in swift motion as you try to sound nonchalant in your response, typing and deleting the message again, never getting the tone quite right.

Responding to your ex boyfriend’s jabs and teasing in person seems to be easier for you, contrary to popular demand– you don’t have much time to think of your answer before the time frame between your arguments would turn too awkward with the silence, so you just say the first thing that comes to your mind. It comes naturally to you, though, and while you don’t particularly enjoy the fury and adrenaline that his smug smirks and jarring words make you feel, the tension his sudden messages built up only makes you more hesitant.

You haven’t met up with Kim Sunwoo since the day you ended things, and you know damn well there’s a good reason for it.

Seeing him around campus or at parties of your mutual friends is a whole other thing than being with him in a closed space, all alone. It’s been a month since you ended things and while you are fairly certain that Sunwoo is a major jerk that is out to ruin your life, you can’t really tell if you’re actually over the major jerk that is out to ruin your life.

Seemingly letting Sunwoo know that you have the chat open, letting him watch your chat bubble pathetically appear and disappear in consistent time intervals, another quick message is shot your way, making your heart drum against your rib cage in even swifter motions. Running your hand through your hair, you sigh and drop the phone into your lap, helpless.

don’t pick up [7:40pm]: i’ll take it as yes

Sighing to yourself, you stand up from your bed and put on some presentable clothes. You don’t want to give Sunwoo any ideas, and that’s why you only change into clean sweatpants and a tank top, not putting much effort into your appearance at all. You need to send him the signal of being nonchalant– although your stance on the way he uses you in his songs is full of anger and resentment, you don’t want it to seem like you care much about the man himself at all.

Dragging yourself out of your room and putting on your shoes, you bump into your roommate Aeri passing you by with a mug of tea, her hair in a towel as she just came out of the shower. “You’re going somewhere?”

“Going out,” you grunt.

“Oh?” she hums, leaning into the doorframe, “with who?”

The question catches you off guard. Turning around on your heel, you flash her an innocent smile, brain thinking of every possible solution you could use to not tell her that you’re going out with the exact person you’ve spent the last few weeks grunting over in dismay. “No one important,” you start, when her face morphs into a distressed frown.

“Is it Sunwoo?”

“Look, I-”

“It is fucking Sunwoo! I heard you scream into your pillow just now, I should’ve known it was that prick again,” she grunts, her guess confirmed by the very obvious discomfort on your face, suddenly in a hurry when you try to get out of the house in one swift motion and save yourself from the cross-examining conversation that’s surely about to happen judging by the look in Aeri’s face.

“I gotta go-”

“What about all your ‘I don’t ever wanna see him again’ talk?” she sighs, clearly disappointed with your life choices.

“Look, it’s about the songs he’s been putting out. He’s being an ass about replying back to my messages and god knows I’m not calling him, or else he’d record it and put it in another song like the freak he is,” you squint your eyes at her, making sure your intentions are clear to your worried roommate.

“Oh, right, because he’s going out with you just to talk,” she mutters, “when all you two have done since you broke up is argue. Mhm, seems about correct,” Aeri adds, making the situation even worse than it already was, because she’s right, after all– when have the two of you held a normal conversation in the past few weeks? Seeing him tonight might just be the worst idea of your life– right after deciding to date him, of course– and you’re completely aware of the fact.

Opening your mouth to answer with a jarring comment meant to put your roommate back in her place, the words are taken off your tongue when you hear the ring of your phone, the notification on your screen flashing with his messages.

don’t pick up [8:04pm]: youre 5 mins late

don’t pick up [8:05pm]: come out

“Look, I gotta go. We’ll talk about this later,” you mumble as you take your bag off the hanger, Aeri’s disapproving eyes following you as you head towards the door.

“Right. Have fun,” she ironically sings, knowing very well what Kim Sunwoo’s intentions are for the night. Still, you fakely gag to her comment before you’re out the door and walking down the entryway.

As your figure walks out of the apartment complex, you almost don’t notice the man. You were expecting him to be waiting just behind the door, resting against the wall as he usually did back when you two were dating. The sight that meets your eye shocks you a little when you find him leaning against a 2007 Audi A4, the silver exterior of the car contrasting with the darkness of his clothes, hands folded on his chest as he watches you with an overly-confident smirk.

“Took you long enough,” he teases as you finally cut through the distance.

“Didn’t know you were so eager to see me,” you bite back, eyes scanning the vehicle. “Did you finally get a car with that new profession of yours? Or is that another one of your friend’s again?” you point towards the car, making the boy chuckle.

“Mine,” he says, “my ‘good-for-nothing career’ is taking off, as you may have noticed,” he hums, referencing all the arguments you two used to have about his dreams and ambitions, making you wince a little at the comment. You never believed in him ever making it big– you just didn’t think his dreams were ever really realistic– but judging by the way it’s been going for him, you must admit you may have been wrong with your snarky arguments before.

“Well, it’s not much, then,” you mutter instead, pretending to judge the state of his old, used-looking car.

“Gets the job done,” he shrugs as he peels himself off the door, opening the passenger side and sparing you a short glance. “Hop in?”

Sunwoo doesn’t wait for you to sit down so he can close the door after you– instead, he walks around the front of the car to the driver’s side, getting in himself– much to the gentleman he’s always been. Making sure you slam the door shut with as much force as you can, just to anger the man and his new toy, you fasten your seatbelt and watch as Sunwoo winces, but doesn’t mention it when he turns the engine on with a turn of the key and drives off the parking lot.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, watching as the male snickers to himself. The calmness of his composure makes you oh so annoyed, making you despise every second spent together with him in the small space breathing in his cologne and listening to the songs playing through the speakers, reminding you of the playlist he’d always put on when he was given the privilege of the aux cord.

“What? Are you scared I’m gonna kill you?” Sunwoo jokes.

“Seeming that you’re batshit crazy, one can’t know what to expect from you nowadays,” you grunt, making him cheese with amusement.

“I thought I was just ‘a loser Soundcloud rapper that can’t do anything in life’,” he repeats to you a sentence you uttered out upon your breakup, the emotions getting the worst out of you after the way he’s been treating you. “Would a loser like me kill you? I don’t think so.”

“Very funny, Sunwoo,” you ironically bite back, rolling your eyes at his composure. The fact that he seemingly has the upper hand on you in the conversation makes you falter a little bit. “I just wanted to talk about the songs you’ve been putting out.”

“You wanted to tell me how much you like them? Thank you, I’m flattered–”

“No, you idiot. I wanted to talk to you about how uncomfortable they’re making me feel!” you yell out, making the male wince.

There’s a momentarily silence in the car as the male drives, the streetlamps disappearing out of sight as he drives away from the city, into more sparse areas. His voice is a little more serious when he speaks up now, the lack of teasing in his tone making shivers run down your spine. “I don’t think it’s that serious, really.”

“Really?” you chuckle. “Because I don’t find it fun when people stop me on the street and ask all about our relationship, Sunwoo. Because I don’t know if you noticed, but you never asked for my permission when you used those.”

The sound of your own voice resonates through your brain, the first voice message he ever used in one of his songs (the one that made him finally more popular, funnily enough) making you sigh out in the darkness of the car. ‘Just.. I dunno, I said sorry, I apologized, I don’t know what more you want me to do.. like, what’s going on? Literally nothing, so like.. can’t we just… move on from this and… fucking let it go?’

“One would think you’d stop sending me these after the first one,” Sunwoo utters out, voice low and almost a little amused, which makes you tip over the edge.

“And I would think you wouldn’t use audio of me being vulnerable with you in a fucking song that everyone would hear, Sunwoo!”

“Oh, did you mean that part where you called me a hypocrite for hanging out with my friends from high school without telling you? Or the part where you cursed me out after you broke up with me because I dared to text you again–”

“I was trying to pierce things back together!” you yell, making the male quiet down, resulting in taking a right turn towards a dead-end, the road approaching a forest. Not a single soul is to be found around here except the two of you, and when he turns the engine off, but stays staring ahead of him towards the trees, you continue with everything you’ve been holding inside of you– instead this time, your voice is more quiet, not having to scream over the sounds of the car anymore.

“I was apologizing. I was trying to make us work, Sunwoo. And just because you didn’t see it or didn’t have it in you to pay attention to me that night, it doesn’t give you the right to exploit me for your gain and make a fool out of me in front of everyone,” you say, watching as the male chews on the inside of his cheek.

“You are the one that broke up with me,” he says into the silence, “not the other way around.”

A moment of silence hangs over you two like a heavy jacket. You were well aware of the fact– you broke up with Sunwoo after the night he went out with all of his female friends from high school, not telling you a thing about it before you found out through an Instagram story of one of them. You knew he was being petty, you knew he was doing it just to get back at you– because you never passed out on a chance to make him feel jealous, getting back at him for all the controlling comments he would make whenever you went out to clubs with your girlfriends– but it still drove you up against the wall and made you break.

Maybe you and Sunwoo weren’t made for each other. There’s no denying that you loved each other– you just didn’t really know how to handle your relationship. You never really learned how to handle problems. How to resolve issues. Both of you were too immature for the other, and it would never work– you only came to this conclusion after many tear-filled evenings, but coming to peace with it is still yet to come.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this conversation,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

The male scoffs, turning his head towards you, meeting your eye. “Did you even listen to the songs?”

“Of course I did, how else would I know–”

“Then you must have noticed that I’m not making fun of you, or putting you on blast, or belittling you, or whatever you and your friends have said about me for the past month,” he counts on his fingers as he recites the words with an annoyed tone, big eyes bearing into yours.

“You exposed me being vulnerable.”

“I’m vulnerable in these too!” he urges out, eyebrows furrowing at you in exasperation.

“That’s your fucking choice! Don’t drag me into it!”

While you must admit that none of the lyrics Sunwoo’s ever written about you were lies, or making fun of you or throwing harsh words in your direction, you still feel as if a chunk of you has been thrown out in the open, for anyone to pick apart and poke around. You always told Sunwoo you liked his way with words, and there is no denying that his lyrics, although they were painfully honest, were quite beautiful. If you weren’t the one the songs were about, maybe you’d even like them. Maybe you could give them a listen without feeling like you want to crawl out of your skin. Maybe you could add them to your playlist without feeling ashamed that you’re still thinking about the male, picking apart your relationship like every outsider has been doing since the songs went viral, but instead, finding places where you could’ve done things differently and kept him by your side.

It was hard to listen to his words and see the reflections of your past flashing in front of your eyes like a movie. While you admit that he did the timeline of your relationship justice, you do despise the fact that his words are getting to you so much.

You don’t like hearing about the things you’ve done wrong. You don’t like listening to him apologize– although he would never do so directly. You don’t like to hear him say that he misses you, because it makes it hard for you to keep your fair distance from him.

“I don’t know what I was thinking… Can you drive me home, Sunwoo? We’re clearly not on the same page about this,” you say, averting your gaze from him towards the window.

“No.”

“Sunwoo, can you please drive me–”

“Not until we talk about this, no,” he says firmly, watching you foam over with fury.

“What else is there to talk about?”

“Us!”

“There’s no us anymore, Sunwoo! And I think it’s the time you come to terms with that and stop abusing our failed relationship for your stupid songs,” you bark, throwing daggers into his skull with your fierce eyes.

“So you get to go and post angry tweets and badmouth me in front of your friends, but when I cope in a perfectly respectful manner, it’s wrong?” he argues, scoffing and shaking his head at you.

“God, you’re unbelievable. You’re comparing two vastly different things–”

“Do you not like the songs because you feel exposed, or do you not like them because I’m saying exactly what you don’t want to hear?” he asks, eyes bearing into yours with such heaviness you feel like you could cut the tension with a knife.

“Like what? That you think I regret breaking up with you?” you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Why else would you pick a fight with me every time I call? Why pick it up at all?”

“Why do you call, then?” you challenge him, chewing on the bottom of your lip. The male leans closer to you, sparks dancing in his eyes when his voice resonates through the car like a low thunder, making the tips of your fingertips buzz and your heart beat faster.

“You know exactly why I call.”

“To make me angry and get me to scream at you?”

“If that means I get to talk to you,” he shrugs, a subtle grin overtaking his features, a churn of your stomach warning you of the dangerous area you just entered.

Eyes never breaking contact with his, relishing in the way his hungry gaze picks you apart, you attempt to conceal your true feelings with an annoyed comment. “This isn’t going anywhere,” you muse, “god, I never wanna see your face again.”

He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, teasing you. “That’s what you said last time,” he says, “so what are you doing in my car then, babydoll?”

The pet name makes your stomach drop, the lightness in your head coming back to you as you furrow your brows at the male, trying hard to come up with a smart remark. Your brain turns into liquid and there’s buzzing in your ears as you try to focus on staying calm and true to your best judgment, but the moment Sunwoo’s head leans even closer to your face, his words render you both speechless and thoughtless as he mutters a sentence that’s barely louder than a whisper, yet powerful enough to pull you in.

“Stop fighting me for once, will you?”

Your lips are pushed against his with force, the kiss mirroring the essence of being starved of each other for the past month. His plush lips move against yours with the skill that only a man you’ve spent tens and hundreds of nights kissing would acquire, his hand placed on your jaw to steady you, adjusting the pace of his kisses just the way you always liked it.

A force that’s greater than yourself brings you out of your seat and into the driver’s lap, giving the male better access to your throat as you settle comfortably under your newly acquired human chair. His strong thighs flex under you when you thread your fingers through his hair, bringing him back up to connect your lips together before he breathlessly pulls away, gazing at you with a boyish grin on his face.

“Why did we even break up again?” he jokes.

You reply to him with the same lightness of your tone, shrugging. “Because you were a jealous, possessive prick and I had a short temper that always egged you on?” you say, watching as the male pretends to ponder on the information, humming to himself.

“I think I can put that past me.”

“Can you?” you joke, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb, a sly smirk playing with your lips as you lean over him and press a firm, yet short peck to his swollen lips. “Or will you make another mediocre song about it?”

“Don’t call them mediocre,” he squints at you, eyes tracing your face when your hands slip further down his face to cradle his jaw, thumbs padding his lips.

“I easily outdid you on your own song, Kim Sunwoo.”

“That’s why I add you in, actually.”

“Really?” you snicker, tone full of fake disbelief. His hands hold your sides when you lean over the man and latch yourself to his neck, dragging out kisses up and down his warm skin. “Will you make a song for each of our arguments, then?”

Teeth scraping the skin of his throat, you find the male humming under you in pleasure and satisfaction. He has you right where he wanted you– and although this is not how you imagined the night to go, you don’t find yourself disappointed with the turn of events. The previous annoyance is still there, but now is shielded by the need in you, the longing for him you can’t really battle whenever he is around.

Settling deeper against his body, you feel the male slip one hand into your hair, tugging at the roots of your hair gently to bring your face back to his, averting your attention away from the love bites you’ve been placing on his skin.

“Unless you give me another topic to write about,” he suggests, his hungry lips swallowing your reply.

You and Sunwoo were never really good for each other. Too messy, too turbulent, but too consumed with the other to ever truly let go. Seeing him tonight surely wasn’t the best of your ideas– but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t silently hope the evening would turn out this way.

You and Sunwoo were never the ones to make good decisions when it came to the other one anyway. What’s one another badly calculated step in your relationship gonna do?

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wolfjackle-creates · 4 months

Note

For the ask game, can I request the Bad reveal AU? That's the one where Danny finds out about Bruce being Batman and freaks out right?

Ha! Yes it is! Finally something I can just toss a snippet at!

I've got a decent amount written for this. However, I switched over to Dick's POV so it's been challenging. (First time writing from him.)

I also was trying to keep it short when...the story doesn't want to stay short. So I'm rewriting it. Which is taking longer than I'd like because I've got an action scene in this one and I'm terrible at writing action scenes. (Which means I need to write more of them, I know.) So I'm taking my time trying to make it good.

Chapter 1

1.4k words (okay, so more than a snippet.)

---

As soon as the laser left Danny’s weapon, Dick sprinted towards his brother. But before he could get more than a few yards, Danny disappeared. Into the cave wall.

“What the fuck,” he muttered, but changed course to check on Bruce.

Tim and Damian continued on, rushing to the wall.

Duke was kneeling by Bruce’s side and trying to keep him from getting up to search as well.

“Where’s Danny?” demanded Bruce.

“B, lay back down,” ordered Dick. “Danny’s gone. Apparently, he can density shift.” He couldn’t quite keep the hysteria out of his voice and Bruce’s frown deepened. “But Tim and Damian are checking the cave wall to see if he left any clues behind.”

Of course, his words only made Bruce struggle even harder to get to his feet. Duke could do nothing against a determined Batman.

“You have to let us look at your leg, B,” said Dick, pushing him back down with Duke.

Bruce glared at him. “I have to find Danny.”

Duke snorted. “How do you expect to be able to do that? He literally disappeared into the ground. Along with his suspected power of invisibility? Where do we start?”

Bruce slumped at Duke’s words and Dick used the chance to examine his leg. Danny’s weapon hit him in the upper thigh and his pants were half burned, half melted into the wound. The injury itself was about six to eight inches in diameter and the center was absolutely a third degree burn.

“Besides, Bruce. You really can’t walk on this. Third degree burns and we’ll have to get Alfred—or maybe even Leslie—to debride it.” He looked around to check on everyone else.

Tim and Damian were still by the wall where Danny had disappeared, but Jason was standing nearby frozen.

“Jason,” called out Dick, “can you get Alfred? I have to cut off Bruce’s pants so we can actually get to the wound.”

Jason seemed to shake himself and when he looked at Dick, his eyes were a bright green. Instinctively, Dick shifted until he was crouching more protectively over Bruce. Jason’s eyes narrowed and he sneered. “What the fuck do you think I’m gonna do to him?”

Dick glared right back. “Just get Alfred.”

With a huff, Jason turned. “Whatever.” But he did take the elevator up, allowing Dick to relax.

“Duke, could you get a pair of shears and a kit from the medbay?”

“You’ve got it.” He rushed off.

“B, how’s the pain?”

Bruce grit his teeth as he finally let himself look down at the injury. “I’ve had worse.”

Dick only had time to roll his eyes before Duke was back with the supplies. He took the special scissors designed to cut through their uniforms gratefully. “Thanks. Gonna start cutting off your pants, now.”

Before he finished, Tim and Damian were back. “How is Father?”

“Nasty burn,” replied Dick.

“I’ll heal,” said Bruce at the same time.

“Yep,” agreed Dick. “We’ll wait for Alfred or Leslie to look over it to say for sure, but so long as it doesn’t get infected, I expect he’ll make a full, if slow, recovery.”

Damian gave a curt nod.

“Far as we can tell,” said Tim, “Danny really did density shift through the wall. There’s absolutely nothing unusual about the place he was standing. No hidden crevices or passages.”

Bruce closed his eyes and sighed. “We’ll have to go over everything we have on his former life.”

“And research the things he referenced just now,” added Tim.

Alfred and Jason returned just as Dick finished cutting as much fabric away from the injury as possible and he happily seceded his place.

He clicked his tongue. “Master Danny did this?”

Damian nodded. “After everything Father has done for him, he chose to attack him in his own home.”

Jason snorted. “We all know it wasn’t that simple.”

Damian didn’t say anything, but did look away. Clear admission of guilt from him.

Alfred cleared his throat and everyone fell silent. “What sort of weapon did he use?”

Jason shrugged. “He had some sort of silver energy weapon. Not a design I’ve ever seen before. It shot a Lazarus-green beam.”

Alfred hummed. “Well, the injury looks normal enough. Second and third degree burns. But Master Timothy, I’d like you to run tests on the tissue to make sure we’re not missing any sort of contamination from the unknown weapon.”

“Course, Alfred. I can do that.”

“Do we know where Master Danny may have gone?”

Duke shook his head. “He density shifted through the cave wall. Pair that with his suspected invisibility and how little we know about his life before joining us…”

Alfred nodded. “Very well. Masters Jason and Dick, please help me move Master Bruce into a bed. The rest of you can begin searching for more information while I clean his wounds.”

Tim barely waited for Alfred to finish speaking before he was booting up the batcomputer. “I’ll inform Oracle, Black Bat, and Spoiler about the situation!” he called out over his shoulder.

Jason clearly wasn’t happy about having to carry Bruce, but not even he would argue with Alfred when one of his charges was injured. Though both of them left the instant Bruce was settled with promises to keep him informed as to how the search for Danny was going.

“So what do we know?” Dick asked as soon as he joined the others.

“Precious little,” admitted Tim.

Jason snorted. “Someone wants to cut our baby brother open and we don’t know a damn thing? What sort of detectives are we?”

Damian tutted at him. “Daniel indicated they would do the same to you, too.”

Dick looked up at the ceiling as he remembered the confrontation. “What was it he said? ‘They won’t care you’re more alive than dead’?”

Jason shifted his weight. “How much do you think he knows? He clearly just learned about our identities recently.”

Duke bit his lip. “He skipped school today. Said he wasn’t feeling well.”

Damian nodded. “But he appeared normal last night while preparing for bed.”

Tim hummed. “So he learned something last night.” Then his eyes widened. “Shit. Damian, we were talking in the kitchen after patrol. Do you think he might’ve overheard?”

“He does move silently. We would not have heard him if he did not wish us to.”

Dick closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Okay, what do we know about his abilities? He demonstrated density shifting today and we suspect invisibility.”

“He can move silently,” added Damian. “Cassandra is the only one who can reliably detect him when he does not wish to be detected.”

“And even she has been surprised by him on occasion,” said Bruce.

“Empathy,” added Jason.

Dick wasn’t the only one to stop and stare at that addition. “Uh… what are you talking about? He hasn’t shown any sort of empathy.”

Jason laughed for a moment, only stopping when no one joined in. “Oh, come on. He always knows whether you need space or want someone to stick around for a bit. And he can, like, send out a calming aura or some shit. Kid’s relaxing to be around.”

Dick opened and shut his mouth. “Huh. I haven’t noticed anything like that from him.”

Tim, Duke, and Damian agreed with Dick.

“Quit messing with me,” Jason said, flipping them off. “It’s true.”

Tim cocked his head. “Do you think that’s why he was most surprised by you? Are the two of you similar in some way? And that’s why you get the empathy sense from him?”

“‘More alive than dead,’” repeated Jason. “Would that have something to do with it?”

Tim hummed. “He mentioned his parents…” he trailed off before he could repeat Danny’s statements about his parents.

Dick nodded. “We’ll get Babs to take another look into them while you analyze B’s injury for potential contaminants. Jay, you and I can go through his room.”

Damian snorted. “With Father out of commission, someone needs to go on patrol.”

Dick cursed. “What time is it?”

“It is ten thirty.”

“Fine. You and I can patrol. I’ll take the cowl.”

Jason groaned. “And there’s some thing I have to take care of in Crime Alley.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “We’ve got the plans for tonight. Tim, you check my wound for foreign contaminants from the unknown weapon. Batman and Robin will patrol the city; Red Hood will be out in Crime Alley. Oracle will look into the Fenton parents. Duke, you’ll get to bed early. Tomorrow after a rest we will search Danny’s room more thoroughly.”

Everyone present voiced their acceptance, though with more grumbles than normal.

-----

So yeah. That's how the next part starts.

#dpxdc #bad reveal au #dealing with the aftermath #how did I do with Dick?

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eiightysixbaby · 6 months

Text

i’ll be home for christmas

PART TWO: Run Run Rudolph

previous part || series masterlist || next part

word count: 5.1k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie isn’t enjoying life in chicago, but he’s been too stubborn to admit it. when he's at his breaking point, what comes next?

cw: switches between past and present tense, mentions of food/eating, lots of angst, eddie is an idiot but we love him, reader’s nickname is ‘sunny’

author’s note: just wanted to say thank you all so much for the love on part one! i’m so excited to be sharing more of this story. part three is in the works and should be out in the next couple of weeks :) thank you again for giving my story a chance, it means so much to me.

Present Day: December 18th, 1989.

The droning, repetitive sound of the cash register’s scanner is giving Eddie a migraine. Beep. A sweater is thrown into a bag. Beep. Some cooking utensils. Beep. A toy truck and a Barbie doll.

The impatient face of the woman who stands before him only makes him want to move slower, and she scowls when he “accidentally” purposefully drops one of her items to the floor.

“Oops!” he says, giving her a fake innocent grin, shrugging dramatically before he bends down to pick it up. He debates how feasible it would be to fake a stroke or a heart attack or something while he’s down here, but ultimately decides against it and stands straight again.

Beep. He scans a tie with green and red stripes on it, presumably for the less-than-amused husband who stands at the woman's side, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else.

He can hear the woman’s foot tapping on the waxy floors beneath them, her arms crossed over her chest and her checkbook clutched in one hand. He gives her her final total, watching as she scrawls her pristine cursive writing onto the thin piece of paper before handing it to him. He hands her several bags once the transaction is finished, pressing his lips into a tight line when she yanks them from his grip in a less-than-pleasant manner. The husband follows absentmindedly like a puppy on a leash, paying absolutely no mind to Eddie whatsoever. He might as well not have even been there.

“Happy Holidays to you, too,” he says, perhaps a bit too loud as they walk away.

Sighing, he leans onto the countertop in front of him, pressing his face into his open palms. The store’s speakers play a consistent loop of popular Christmas music, and Eddie thinks he’s heard The Chipmunk Song enough times today to last him the rest of his life. The squeaky voices of the fictional rodents ring out through the decorated space, eliciting laughter from children who can’t help but sing along.

There’s been a non-stop wave of shoppers over the past couple of weeks, and it only seems to be getting worse the closer it gets to the holiday. People in Chicago aren’t friendly about it, either. Everyone seems to be going about their lives transactionally, angry and frustrated that they have to be picking up gifts and baking cookies and wrapping boxes in the first place. Eddie isn’t used to it.

Back in Hawkins, everyone was cheerful around Christmas. The otherwise quiet town seemed to light up in December, bringing even the grumpiest of residents out of the woodwork to celebrate. The funny thing is, he never thought he'd miss it. Never imagined he'd yearn for that town, for that community. But there's a lot of things that hadn't gone according to his plan, so what's one more on that list?

Eddie can feel his name tag poking his skin through his shirt, his argyle sweater that was so impossibly opposite to his taste in fashion but that was strongly recommended by his boss; "to look put-together", he'd been told. And so he'd picked out a few "nice" outfits, for nothing if not to keep his damn job. But the material of the sweater makes his skin itch, and paired with the too-bright lights and the too-repetitive music, this job was a sensory hellhole. The smell of over-priced perfume is engrained into his nostrils at this point, and Eddie literally winces as he catches a customer spray a cloud of the fragrance out of a sample bottle.

He rolls his eyes as Donna, head of the fragrance department, dishes out her usual sales-pitch to the clueless man that stands before her, utterly and devastatingly unsure of what to get the lady in his life for Christmas. I could never be that clueless, Eddie thinks to himself, I know how to get a good gift.

And then, his heart aches as he stares blankly at the man holding two different perfume bottles in each hand. Because he remembers that the last real gift he'd bought was for you.

December 5th, 1988.

The mall was packed full of holiday shoppers, everyone in a mad rush to find the perfect gifts for each person on their lists. Eddie typically wasn't much of a shopper himself, really only coming to the mall to bother Dustin and Will at Scoops, but today was different. You wanted to start getting your shopping out of the way, and didn’t want to go alone, so of course Eddie was going to tag along. He’d been spending every possible second he could with you, running errands or getting food or seeing a movie. Even just hanging out at your apartment or his trailer. With you, everything seemed magical. Every item you picked up and marveled at in each store, every Christmas song you sang along to, it was all shiny and wonderful because it was associated with you.

You currently have him at a jewelry store, looking into a glass case filled with glittering gold and silver accessories. Some of which probably cost, individually, more than all of his possessions combined. A low whistle leaves his mouth before he hears you chirp beside him.

“Eddie! Look at this one!” you coo, pointing eagerly at a flashy necklace that sits in the case.

He’s at your side in an instant, looking where your finger directs him. His eyes land on a dazzling pendant, adorned with jewels that sparkle glamorously.

“Oh, Nancy would love this,” you muse, taking a closer look at the price tag. “I could get this for her… or I could tell Robin about it so she could get it for her. I don’t know, is it too much if I get Nancy a necklace?” you debate out loud, making Eddie smile at how flat-out adorable you are.

He loves your heart, the way you always think about your friends. You truly aren’t looking for a thing for yourself, you just want to get your friends the best gifts possible, physical objects that remind them of your gratitude for them.

“I don’t think it’s too much. Or, why don’t you give Robin a call so you can ask her straight up? Here, use the pay phone,” he offers, pulling some quarters from his pocket and handing them to you.

“You’re right, that’s the easiest idea,” you say with a cute little relieved laugh. “Wait here, I’ll be back in like, fifteen.”

He gives you a little salute with two fingers, continuing to glance around at the selection once you’ve left. His feet stop him instantly when his eyes catch a delicate gold necklace with a tiny heart-shaped pendant. It’s engraved with the letter M, and a card sits beside it that informs potential buyers that you can get it customized with any initial. It’s simple, exactly how you’d want it to be, but it’s far from ugly or bland.

Eddie knows immediately that he wants to get it for you, eyeing the price tag nervously before breathing a sigh of pure relief at the fact that it’s far more affordable than he’d have suspected. You’re the most special thing in his life, and it feels right to give you a piece of him. His initial, to wear on your neck, so you can keep him close at all times. His stomach does a little flip of excitement at his idea, and he’s grateful you’ve left him alone so he can keep this a surprise.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he says to the worker after you’ve left. “I’d like to get this one, please. Engraved with an E.”

Present Day: December 18th, 1989.

He's pulled from his melancholy daze by another customer snapping their fingers in his face, polished nails standing out at the tips of slender fingers.

"Hello? Anybody home?" the woman asks, chewing her gum too exaggeratedly for Eddie to be able to take her seriously. "Are you too stupid to understand me or what?"

Yeah. It's going to be a long rest of his shift.

•

Cars roll past on the busy streets as Eddie makes his commute home, the holiday chaos evidently in full-swing on the outside of the department store, too. He winces as a car’s tires slosh through the slushy mixture collecting on the sides of the road, sending it splattering all over his coat. He sighs, moving off to the side of the sidewalk that’s furthest from the road, brushing half-melted snow off of himself.

His body is frigid with the cold, his eyes heavy with his incredible lack of sleep and his fatigue from the most draining shift at the world's most boring job. He trudges inside of his apartment building, the tall structure looming over the Chicago streets. The large Christmas tree in the lobby makes Eddie frown to himself, resurfacing that ache he’d felt at work. The ache that really hasn’t fully gone away since last Christmas. It’s always in the back of his mind, always tapping away at his heart, a dull soreness like a bruise that won’t heal.

“Oh shit, what’s goin’ on, Edwardio?” Eddie’s neighbor, Argyle, greets him as he climbs the stairs to his floor.

“Hey, man,” Eddie responds, feeling guilty at the monotony of his voice compared to cheerfulness of his acquaintance.

“You wanna come in for a smoke sesh? Just picked up some new stuff,” Argyle offers, sticking his thumb in the direction of his door as he grabs his keys from his pocket.

“Nah, man, not tonight. Some other time,” and then Eddie’s slinking into his apartment, shutting his door promptly behind him.

Eddie never turns down a smoke sesh.

Once fully inside, he throws his things haphazardly onto the ground. He couldn’t be bothered to care about where they land — his whole place is a mess. A reflection of his mental state. Soft wool fabric of his sweater is tossed onto his bed, traded for a t-shirt so well-loved it has holes in the neckline. He goes to his dining table as he tugs the shirt fully over his head, grabbing the phone off of the wall and anxiously curling the cord around his fingers as he dials a familiar number. It rings a few times before there’s an answer, each droning dial tone making him anxious.

“Hello?” he hears Robin’s voice ring out on the other end.

“Rob, hey, it’s me.”

“Eddie!” she says excitedly. “Guys, Eddie’s on the phone!” her voice sounds further away, and he knows she’s holding the phone away from her face as she calls out to whoever else is there.

Steve shouts his name and he smiles, hearing the commotion on the other end as other people shuffle towards Robin to try and grab the phone.

“How is everything? How are you?” Robin asks him, shushing Dustin as he begs her to let him say hi.

“I, uh, I’m alright. I miss you guys,” he says, resting his forehead on the heel of his palm. “How’s everything there?”

“We miss you too. Things are….” Robin pauses, and it makes Eddie’s stomach drop. “—They’re okay,” she finishes, but she sounds unsure; like there’s something she isn’t telling him.

“Who’s there with you right now? I know I heard Henderson and Steve,” he says, trying to force some happiness into his voice.

“Eddie! You’ll never believe how the D&D campaign is going!” Dustin says excitedly into the receiver, and he can hear Robin’s voice telling him to give it back.

“I bet it’s great, you’ll have to call me on your own sometime and tell me everything.”

“I definitely wi— HEY!” Dustin says, yelling as the phone is seemingly snatched from him.

“Give me the phone back, you turd! Okay, to answer your question…” Robin’s voice is back again. “It’s me, Nance, Jonathan, of course Steve and Dustin, and then, uh… Sunny,” she trails off, getting quieter at the end.

It hurts Eddie’s heart, the way she says your name softly like she doesn’t want you or him to hear it.

“Can I… can you put her on?” he tries, wanting so desperately to hear your voice.

You haven’t talked to him since Christmas Eve. Since the night he told you he was leaving. Every time he’d call home he couldn’t manage to get ahold of you. The one time he called your personal number, the second you’d said hello and he’d announced his presence, you’d hung up. Sometimes, when Eddie happens to call Steve or Robin or Nancy during a group hangout, they’ll tell him you aren’t there, but he knows it’s a lie. Not that it matters much anyway, because even the times they’re honest with him he’ll ask to speak to you and you’ll refuse.

It hurts him, how much you’ve distanced yourself. He obviously wanted you to move forward, but he’d hoped you could at least catch up every once in a while. How stupid he’d been to think that this was a fair thing to ask of you. How stupid he’d been to think the right decision was to leave you behind, the one person who he adored, who was right for him.

“Eddie…” Robin says on the other end, her voice wavering.

“Forget it. It’s okay,” he says, immediately looking to change the subject. “Look, I just wanted to check in and see how you guys were doing. I can let you go.”

“We miss you, Eddie. We’re always thinking of you,” Robin says, and he hears Nancy say a quick “love you!”

“Tell Wheeler I love her, too. I love all of you guys, okay? We’ll talk later.”

And then the call is over. The phone clicks into its place on the wall, and Eddie is alone again. Deafening silence rings in his ears, taunting him as he stares blankly at the wall in front of him.

If he’s honest, truly honest, nothing has been right since he left Hawkins. He tries to grin and bear it, to pretend like his shitty dead-end job is making him happy and that he made the correct decision moving here. But deep down, nearly this whole time, he’s known it was wrong.

Last December, he’d been at a breaking point, feeling like he was unwanted in Hawkins and like he was just a burden to you and everyone else. He’d genuinely convinced himself that you’d be better off without him, had it in his head that you’d move on with time and that you’d be okay in his absence.

He couldn’t be more wrong, but he wasn’t aware of how much you missed him. He didn’t think he was something worth missing.

December 16th, 1988.

Steaming hot plates of scrambled eggs and bacon are placed in front of you and Eddie, followed by two sides of toast with extra butter. Taking a tentative sip of his scalding coffee, Eddie’s eyes meet yours over the rim of his mug. You do a happy little wiggle in your seat, more than content to have a meal after your drinking session at Nancy’s the previous night. Eddie’s stomach was begging for food, and he knows you must be feeling the same way.

You waste no time digging in, and he watches you with a cute smile on his face as you raise your fork to your mouth, groaning when you take your first bite of eggs. You look ethereal, with your hair unbrushed and your mascara messy around your eyes, one of his big t-shirts on your frame beneath your winter coat. His smile falters, then, as he considers how perfect you are. How you’re effortlessly flawless, and how he doesn’t come close to deserving you.

You catch him staring, poking his wrist with the dull end of your fork and breaking him out of his thoughts.

“You can’t absorb my food just by watching me eat, you know that right?” you joke, smirking around your mouthful of toast.

“I can sure as hell try,” Eddie says, pressing his index and middle fingers to either side of his head, humming while he does it as if summoning the food to him.

You laugh, the brightest little sound, before you go back to eating as normal. You don’t see his smile fade yet again as he starts to pick at the food on his plate, his appetite suddenly dwindling.

The last week had taken its toll on Eddie, to say the least. This time of year always tended to be a bit hard on him, making him reminisce on the days when his mom was still alive and reminding him that his dead-beat father couldn’t be bothered to spend the holidays with his only son. Christmas was a time for family gatherings, and Eddie didn’t have family to gather with. He had you, and the rest of the friend group, and Wayne, but it just isn’t the same as having a complete and loving family. He found himself wishing for the Christmas-card picturesque familial comfort, and his heart ached at the lack of it.

Then, to bring his mood down even more, there was the incident at the grocery store. Just last night he’d been at the store with you, picking up some alcohol for the get together at Nancy’s. You’d been following close behind him as he’d roamed the aisles, your hand wrapped around his arm. Soft laughter and warm smiles were exchanged as you waited in the checkout line, inviting the eyes and judgments of onlookers.

“What a shame that poor girl got roped in with the Munson boy,” an older woman had said to her friend as they walked by. “She could do so much better than that…” she remarked, looking Eddie up and down in a way that could only be displeased. He met their eyes, only to have them turn up their noses in response and walk away.

You hadn’t heard the comments, had been too busy selecting a candy bar to snack on, your fingers sifting over crinkly paper before deciding on a Kit-Kat. Eddie tried to shake the stranger’s comment off, really he did, but he found his brain clouded with it. Sometimes he was so good at letting things roll off of his shoulders, but he’s felt it getting harder and harder. The whole night at Nancy’s, he couldn’t stop thinking about what the woman had said; couldn’t stop thinking about the way she looked at you like she pitied you, simply for being near him. The worst part is, this isn’t the first time he’s noticed people judging you and him together. Not even close. Everywhere he goes with you, he feels like he catches dirty looks.

It makes him feel like even more of a screw-up than he already does, simply adding to the emptiness that resides within his body. In his head, he feels like that woman at the supermarket was right. You could do better than him. Why did you bother with the town freak when you could have anyone?

“Hey,” you say now, blinking at him from across the sticky tabletop. Your voice is like a shining flashlight through the fog of his thoughts, bringing him out of the murkiness. “Are you alright? I thought you were starving,” you worry, concern etched into your facial features.

He looks down at his plate, realizing he’d been dancing his fork around the porcelain and stabbing mindlessly at the now-room-temperature eggs. He’d taken a single bite of his toast and nothing more.

“Did those eggs do something to you?” you ask, playing tough, trying to get a smile from him. “Do I need to teach them a lesson?”

“Yeah, actually, they called me some pretty mean names,” he joins in, rolling his eyes, but it’s half-hearted. You notice this, able to read him like a book, but you don’t press the issue.

Instead, you simply reach across the table, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. Squeezing yours in return, he tries to brush away the depressing thoughts that had berated him, and he eats his bacon and the rest of his toast before you both get up to leave. He knows he shouldn’t torture himself like this, but it’s hard not to when his whole life he’s felt like he wasn’t quite good enough.

When you arrive at your place, he walks you to the door of your building, ever the gentleman. Trying desperately to savor these moments with you without letting the town’s collective opinion of him ruin them. His heart flutters when your pretty eyes look up at him, your gentle fingers brushing against the sleeve of his coat.

“I don’t really want you to go,” you say, laughing a little but turning away as you do it, like you don’t quite want him to see.

“I don’t wanna go either. Hate leaving you,” he says, tilting his head to the side as he gives you a tiny pout.

You stand in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. The tension hangs thick in the air, and Eddie swears he could reach out and slice it with his fingernail. His heart thumps in his chest, he wonders if you can hear it from where you stand. And then, before he can truly even process it, you’re leaning in and he’s leaning in and then his lips are on yours and oh, god.

He’s never felt lips softer than yours, never felt sparks like the ones he feels right now. The kiss doesn’t last long, but in his mind it felt like he’d been frozen in that moment for hours. He can feel his cheeks flush when you’ve pulled away, but as he looks at you his heart just sinks.

You could do better than him. This is a mistake. He can’t let you do this to yourself.

He suddenly wants to sprint as far as he can away from you, he wants to curl up into a ball and hide away for eternity. He feels unstable, like the earth beneath him could crumble at any minute. His gut is telling him to leave, to go home and shut himself in to think. But at the same time, the way you look at him makes it so hard to go. You chew on your lip, giggling as he gives you a soft look and decisively tells you he has to get home. His breathing is a little shaky, and he hopes you didn’t notice.

“I’ll see you soon?” you ask, holding onto his arm.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

Your smile is persistent as you open the door to your building, waving at him through the small glass window. He offers a wave in return, before he turns heel and all but books it back to his van. He feels like he could collapse, like everything is crashing down around him.

To this town, he’s a fuck up, and maybe they’re all right. Maybe he needs to get out, to go somewhere where he can start fresh. Be someone new, not just a Munson.

His mental spiral only worsens as he drives to the trailer park, his thoughts racing in his mind. He hears principal Higgins from a few years back, he hears his neighbors, he hears the PTA moms all calling him a failure, a freak, a weirdo. A burden.

By the time he gets home, he feels like the answer to his problems is already decided. It’s been a slow boil over the course of the last week, a nagging thought that fades in and out of his brain. Now it’s finally coming to a head. There’s too many bad memories in this town, too many people that want him gone.

He needs to leave Hawkins. He needs to leave you.

Present Day: December 18th, 1989.

Initially, right after he’d left, the gang had tried reasoning with him, begging him over grueling phone calls to just come home. He’d felt horrible about it, but he said no every time. He truly wanted to make something of himself, something that he felt Hawkins could never give him.

But then, getting his foot in the door in the music industry like he had hoped was not as easy as it was made out to be. The guy at the local recording studio had laughed at him when he’d inquired about booking a session to record a demo-tape. He’d laughed harder when Eddie had asked if the recording studio itself was hiring. He couldn’t even land a job at the local record store, and he felt like his failures were just piling up. His first job in the city had been at a small book store, but they ended up letting him go due to their lack of need for his help. Not enough foot traffic, the owner had said. Not worth keeping Eddie around for one shift a week, he’d grumbled.

He’d had several failed job interviews after, growing more and more frustrated after each one. Bills and other expenses were piling up with each passing day he spent jobless, and he guiltily accepted the little bit of money Wayne insisted on sending him to help him get by. He struggled along until he finally scored a job at the big department store down the street from his place. It wasn’t glamorous, by any means, but it paid the bills… barely.

That was another thing. His rent raised unexpectedly a couple months after his move, and he’s been living essentially paycheck to paycheck ever since.

He finds himself missing Hawkins more than he ever thought he would, and it kills him every day. More than anything, he misses you. Every day he thinks about you, yearns for you, wonders what you’re up to. Most of all, he thinks about that kiss. That single, stupid kiss that you’d shared. It had been earth shattering, and looking back he isn’t sure why that wasn’t his reason to stay. Instead, it pushed him further away.

His pride had gotten the best of him, not letting him admit defeat and move back to Indiana because he wanted to seem like he had everything figured out. He couldn’t stomach the thought of returning after a couple short months and looking like a failure to everyone. Frequent phone calls home to Wayne helped him stay sane, and he tried to keep his tone upbeat for his uncle but he should’ve known all along that the man knows him too well to buy it.

That’s why, when Eddie picks up the phone for the second time tonight and dials Wayne’s number, the man on the other end isn’t surprised to hear the way Eddie’s voice cracks or the sniffles that he tries to hide. It’s why he instantly requests that Eddie tell him what’s going on, because he just knows.

And Eddie pours his heart out.

“I can’t do it, Wayne. I can’t fucking do it,” he sniffs.

“Don’t talk like that, boy, what’s got you worked up?”

“I’m miserable here. I thought this was the right choice, but it couldn’t have been further from it.”

Wayne is silent on the other end, but Eddie can hear his steady, calm breathing. He keeps going.

“Sunny won’t talk to me, and— and I deserve that, but I miss her. I miss you, I miss my friends, I fucked up, Wayne,” Eddie’s voice is raw as he talks, frustrated tears streaming down his face. “Chicago is not what I wanted it to be. It didn’t create some magical new life for me. I have virtually nobody here that gives a shit.”

There’s silence again. In this moment Eddie is so wound up he almost snaps at his uncle, but then he doesn’t need to, because his voice comes through the line.

“So come home,” Wayne replies, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“What?”

“Come home. Book a flight and get your ass here, I’ll help you pay for it. There’s still time to make it by Christmas.”

It’s like a lightbulb goes off for Eddie, in that moment. Why can’t he just come home? What’s so hard about it? He’d been telling himself no, acting as though he had to stay in Chicago. But what was he running from?

Maybe he just needed that final push. Someone to tell him point-blank to cut the crap and come home. He should've been confiding in Wayne all along. And then it all falls into place, as Eddie stews in the realization that there’s nothing truly holding him back from going home except for himself. He’d created this narrative in his head; that he needed to leave Hawkins and that no one benefited from his presence. What if that was all… bullshit? He’s been forcing himself to stay in a city he hates… for what? He slumps back in his chair, letting Wayne’s words sink in, nodding his head slowly as he thinks.

By the time he gets in bed for the night, he knows what he has to do. He knows he’s made a lot of mistakes in his lifetime, but his worst one was leaving you. Settling in under his thick comforter, his stomach turns with anxiety and excitement. He barely sleeps a wink, but for once, he isn’t mad about it when he wakes up the following morning.

Present Day: December 21st, 1989.

Eddie’s hands shake as he steps out of his cab, his breath shallow with his nerves. In a couple of short days he’d packed up his life in Chicago to leave this place behind for good. He’d left a note on Argyle’s door explaining his departure and thanking him for all of the smoke sessions, and he’d tossed his keys at the always-rude front-desk receptionist before walking out of that building for the last time.

He shuffles in through the revolving doors at the airport, hands nervously wringing around the strap to his duffel bag. Wayne had been right, of course, there was plenty of time to make it home for Christmas and Eddie had secured a flight to Indiana rather easily amidst the holiday craziness. He hadn’t told a single other soul he was coming home, and he knew Wayne certainly wouldn’t share the news without his permission. He wanted to surprise everybody, wanted to fix what he’d broken last year, and he could only hope that he would be welcomed by his friends. You were his biggest obstacle, the thing making him the most nervous, but he was more than ready to see your face again and to never let you go this time. Somehow, he’d make it right.

He takes a deep breath as he heads towards his gate, then another.

This is it. He’ll be home in Hawkins for Christmas.

taglist: @hellfirenacht @writethrough @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @likedovesinthewnd @tlclick73 @mrsjellymunson @idkitsem @svbrbnlegends @eddiesxangel @munsonzgf @hereforshmut @eggo-segual @joannamuns9n @lavendermunson @leenameh @micheledawn1975

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #i’ll be home for christmas #support banner by cafekitsune

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juuuulez · 4 months

Text

📰 | part thirteen: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, no pronouns/no use of (y/n), FINAL CHAPTER, canon divergence (i rewrote the ‘wrath’ episode), non-descriptive violence, blood.

summary: The Saviour-Alexandria war comes to a close in one, final battle.

guys i just wanted to say thank you all SO MUCH for loving this story, because it’s truly my favourite thing i’ve ever written….these two mean the world to me and i’m so glad everyone understands my vision

i actually loved writing this chapter, and i think the ending is really appropriate to the themes and nature of their relationship

i’ll publish an epilogue next, which will be the 6-year timeskip, and just wrap things up nicely so you know what the future held for carl and reader :,)

-> masterlist <-

Truthfully, you were a little nervous. It had taken a week for these negotiations to settle, and you were worried as to what state the Saviours were in. You hoped that Negan was doing alright. Strangely enough, you’d never been away from him for this long, not since getting stuck together all those years ago.

A meeting spot was decided, though everyone was still wary. You’d been cuffed again for safety, and carefully transported alongside Rick, Carl and Michonne. They kept a close eye on you, wanting to ensure that nothing went haywire at the last minute.

It was a large clearing, a small grassy hill with an oak tree. Hanging from a branch was a beautiful stained glass panel, the intricate design having become slightly rusty with time and lack of care.

As you stepped from the car, the adults left your side, trusting you in Carl’s watch for now. He held onto your forearm, walking a few paces behind everyone else, allowing you to gain your bearings.

But something didn’t feel right.

“Carl,” You whispered, garnering his attention. “I don’t.. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

There was a look of worry on your face, one that made Carl’s heart break a little, wanting to assure you that everything is okay, though he didn’t know if that was true. He knew how risky this plan was: a plan that he couldn’t tell you, for you’d absolutely loose it.

“It’ll be okay.” He ends up saying, giving you a small squeeze and continuing to usher you forward.

It wouldn’t. Not for the Saviours, at least.

Fortunately for them, Eugene was still on their side. He’d expressed how the Saviours intended on sabotaging the deal, in hopes of taking power and taking you. This awareness led Eugene to rig the bullets with an explosive mechanism.

Carl had been uncomfortable to hear it at first, but knew that it was necessary in defending their stance. He couldn’t tell you. There wouldn’t be a single universe in which you’d hear him out, and see their side of the argument.

Yet, he understood. If someone was threatening his father’s life, he’d react similarly. So, Carl kept his mouth shut.

As you approached the hill, the Saviours became visible, and it seemed Negan had certainly brought backup. You could identify a few of them as Simon’s men, and wondered how loyal they’d been since his death. Or… murder, you suppose.

The more you focused, the more you realised the sheer amount of guns they’d brought. All standing defensively, weapons at the ready. It started to settle in, and you remembered your long history with the Saviours. They didn’t do things peacefully. They didn’t take deals, there was no such thing as compromise.

“Carl, Carl, I’m serious,” You urged him, suddenly stopping in your spot, causing Carl to stop with you. “This isn’t right. They’re gonna fire, I know they are. We have to—“

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carl interrupted, trying to calm you. “Trust me, okay? I know. And it’s alright.”

Something about that sent off an alarm in your head, a look of confusion crossing your face. You stared at Carl, eyes darting back to the others, then to him.

“You know?” You repeat, “What do you mean? Carl, they’re gonna shoot you, shoot everyone here. This is bad.”

The more you spoke, the more you seemed to panic, so Carl tried to quiet your tangent with a hand over your mouth. It worked, and had this been another situation, you would have laughed at the irony.

His hand doesn’t move, looking subtly nervous despite trying to calm you down. “You need to listen to me, okay? Just breathe, and—“

Whatever he was suggesting doesn’t matter, as suddenly there is crackling in the distance, loud pops as the Saviours attempt to discharge their weapons. Several guns break down into pieces, flames overtaking their inner workings as the mechanisms shut down and killing several of their owners. Those who survived were injured, their hands crippled and burnt.

You’d cover your ears to protect from the noise, if not for the handcuffs, but Carl seems to have a similar idea. He’s looking around, looking for something, before he pulls you down against the grassy hill, trying to duck and shield your body from something unknown.

“Carl!” You yell over the gunfire, “What the fuck is happening!”

Finally identifying a group of Oceansiders in the distance, Carl cups his hand over your ear, the one uninjured and still intact. You try to squirm away, but to no avail, confused and freaking out, unsure whether his hold was supposed to be comforting or threatening.

As you realised what was happening, it was too late to do anything. Molotov cocktails were used to alight the remaining of Negan’s army, the alcohol splashing at their feet and soaking into the grassy hill, spreading with reckless abandon.

“No! You asshole!” You scream, jerking your head away from Carl and trying to find your bearings. But being handcuffed, and your current lack of balance since the injury, you just end up falling back against the dirt.

“Hey! Listen to me,” Carl interrupts your protests sternly. He clasps his hands on either side of your face, keeping you still despite your attempts at moving away. “It’s over, okay? This is it. It’s done.”

You’re panting, looking practically feral, sweat beading on your brow and skin. Dirt is in your hair, stuck to your bandage, marred over the flannel you still wear. Carl’s flannel. Instinctively, you want to bite his hands, to do anything to get away.

But after everything, you know better. There’s nothing you could do to change this. Whether it be him, or you, someone had to face the music. Someone had to loose.

“Uncuff me.” You demand, chest rising heavily with each breath you suck in, still lying flat against the grass while Carl leans over your form.

He shakes his head, “I can’t do that. Not until we get back to Alexandria. You’ll get a house, your own place, and—“

You interrupt him with a scream, “Uncuff me!”

Though your pleas don’t work, Carl pulls your body up against him, trying to get you into a seated position. If you had control, you’d probably be able to hold yourself up, yet you remain helpless to his control.

“I don’t have the key.” He finally reveals, holding you up by your arms, unconsciously rubbing away some of the dirt that’s stuck there. “Even if I did, we have to wait, alright? I’m on your side, I promise.”

You’re on the brink of agreeing, of finally calming yourself, of accepting that this really is the end. Even your head begins to nod, a small motion, still looking a little breathless and confused.

Meanwhile, the battle isn’t entirely over. The remaining Saviours had seemingly submitted, abandoning any semblance of control under the promise that they would live, if they left for good.

You catch the end of that speech, confusion flooding your featured as they’re commanded to leave. The pair of you still sit in the grass, away from the main commotion.

Carl must have similarly picked up on the sudden shift in tension, his mind finally catching up with everything happening.

The realisation clicks instantly: if the Saviours are disbanding, they had no leader.

At the same time, you’re trying to stand once more. “No, no! Let go of me!” You scream, jerking yourself away from Carl even when he tries to help you up. You only make it a few steps before lack of coordination hits, and despite your hostility, Carl wraps his arms around you in assistance.

Carefully, he helps you over the hill, standing right on the crest. From here, the two of you can see everything. His breath caught in his chest as he realised that Rick had been shot, though he stalled himself from doing anything, understanding there was a much more dire situation at hand.

Everyone stood in awe as Negan essentially choked on his own blood, the liquid seeping from a slice in this throat, no doubt a critical wound. Rick stood above him, hands soaked red, dropping the shard of glass he’d used as a weapon.

It felt like there was no more air in your chest. Like you’d been thrown into space, the oxygen sucked from your form. You stood there dumbly, watching, mouth open but nothing came out. Next to you, Carl was saying something, but you couldn’t hear him.

You couldn’t hear when Rick ordered for Negan to be saved.

Nor could you hear Maggie’s shrill screams, begging and accusing Rick of betraying her.

Everything sort of just stopped moving. All of the noise had stopped, leaving this deafening silence and overwhelming feeling of pure emptiness.

Whatever happened after that didn’t sink in. Somebody had spoken to you, but you weren’t listening, nor did you have any clue where they’d taken Negan. Or where they’d take you. It was likely that you were told, but it didn’t stick.

The entire time, Carl was by your side. After getting into the car, he slid in next to you, a small metal ringlet in his hands. He unlocked the handcuffs from behind you, however had been instructed to cuff you once more from the front, shooting you a sympathetic look as he did so. At least now, he could hold your hand, which he did for the whole trip.

It was mildly comforting, some place in the back of your mind appreciating the gesture, despite the numbness that had worked itself into every corner of your body.

Eventually, you’d arrived at Alexandria. They took you towards the back of the community, to a house standing far from the others. It had been emptied of any objects that could be deemed weaponry, and was fairly bare-bones, but contained the minimum for survival. It was the first time you noticed Carl wasn’t around, a notion that allowed your senses to return slightly, offput by the sudden seclusion.

You allowed yourself to explore the area, opening each drawer only to find them all empty. The windows were barred, the door locked, leaving the house to feel more like a prison than a home.

Unsure what to do, you sat down on the couch, facing the door. It was comfortable. You poked at the fabric with your fingertips, trying to gain your bearings and come back to a place of consciousness, but everything still felt fuzzy and far away. Like you just couldn’t reach reality.

Hours past, though you weren’t too focused on the time. The only way of telling was when the sun had lowered, shadows being cast through the partially obscured windows. You hadn’t turned the light on earlier, causing the room to just become darker and darker, as you had no intention of getting up.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door unlocked with a distinct click, before creaking open. You hoped that Negan would walk in, that he’d be alright and he’d hug you and say you’re going back to the Sanctuary. Together. But that was wishful thinking.

Though when Carl entered the house, you didn’t have the energy to be angry. You probably should have been.

“It’s dark, isn’t it?” He comments, having instantly spotted you sitting on the couch. When he doesn’t get a reply, Carl knows that small-talk won’t cut it, that he’s messed up.

So, he comes over, sitting next to you on the couch. In another life, you would have probably punched him. Screamed and accused him of lying to you. But you couldn’t be that person anymore.

When he wraps an arm around your side, you don’t protest, allowing Carl to pull you against him. You’ve finally begun to realise just how tired you are, as you rest your head down on his shoulder, tucked nicely into his side.

“He’ll live,” Carl whispers, “And they’re gonna keep him in a cell. I dunno how long… but probably a long time.”

You give a small nod, just to acknowledge that you’re listening. It makes sense. As long as Negan was alright, that they’d help him get better, then you could deal with the rest later.

“Can I see him?” You ask, voice coming out a quiet whisper. They’re the first words you’ve uttered since everything went down.

Carl feels guilty for his answer. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, with you. “No. Not for a while. Someone’s gonna come here, live in this house, just to keep an eye on you,” He has to swallow to clear his throat, “And.. it’s gonna be weird, I know, but… you’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

There’s little protesting you can do, not in this state. The shock still hasn’t fully worn off, Carl knows this, so he tries to move away from the heavy conversation.

He shifts on the couch, laying down and pulling you with him. You settle there easily, head resting over his chest, though he’s wary of not putting any pressure on your injury.

“We should get you something to eat.” He suggests quietly, brushing back some hair so he can see your face.

You shake your head, not having much of an appetite anymore. “Can we just stay here?” You whispered, lifting your head slightly to look at him.

Carl feels himself getting choked up again. He doesn’t quite know why, as he’s glad that this is over, that Negan will be confined to a cell, unable to harm anyone. This was the best-case scenario for his community.

But he knows, in another life, this could have ended badly. That he shouldn’t have been so lucky as to survive. The idea hurts, a deep ache in his chest, though he tries to keep the emotion out of his face.

“I’m just glad that I’ve got you.” Carl ends up whispering, the words slightly vague and confusing, but they mean everything they need to mean.

For Carl does, quite literally, have you in his arms. It didn’t matter where your relationship stood, or all your differences, for he had you.

You seem to realise this, a smile finally making its way onto your face. “Dork.” You mumble, the slight jab helping Carl to smile as well.

That numbness fades, as you lift yourself up a little, hovering over his body as your lips connect in a kiss. It’s the first one since weeks ago, after your fight in the alleyway.

This time, it’s softer, and Carl places one hand on your hip and the other to the back of your neck. Your breathing slows to match his own, lips moving together in an almost tired manner whilst your fingertips stroke the sides of his face.

Tomorrow will likely be difficult, as will the next day, and the next. But right now, things felt alright.

That night, you fell asleep on top of Carl, the pair of you tangled on the couch. You’d wake up to his voice in your ear and lips against your cheek, and though neither of you knew it then, you’d spend many, many more mornings together.

Eventually, the noise would fade, and you’d find some sense of peace in Alexandria with Carl. Years from then, you’d even help Negan find his peace, too.

Life would never be easy, but it certainly felt a little better with each day. That was enough.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #twd x you #carl grimes x you #negan smith x reader #the walking dead #carl grimes x y/n

156 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 9 months

Text

𝕮𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞’𝖘 𝕺𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

“….𝖜𝖊’𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖒𝖆𝖉 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊..”

“𝖏𝖔𝖎𝖓 𝖚𝖘 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖊…”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•

𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨, 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙤, 𝙚𝙩𝙘…

click below ⬇️

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•| * .

• starting off by saying that this is only my 2nd year doing this and my first year doing it on tumblr so please be patient with me.

• Also, I am making an ✨attempt ✨ to do all 31 days but no promises as I’ll be doing other things this month for Halloween/cosplay but please feel free to DM/inbox me any requests that you have and I’ll be happy to try and squeeze them in.

• Once the month is done, I’ll put them all in my masterlist so you can back and binge read if you’d like.

• this will be multifandom and feature characters from AOT, JJK, HunterxHunter, One Piece, Jojo’s, Haikyuu and many more!..if there’s a show you’d like me to write for, feel free to request. I’ll let you know if I’ve watched/write for it.

• all works featured in this will be modern AU’s. No canon stuff.

• understand that not every kink will be for you. As always, there will be warnings at the top of each story..take heed to said warnings and use them at your discretion. If you feel a specific kink/fetish is too much, then I suggest you skip that day and I’ll see you in another one. We’re all grown (I would hope) so you can decide for yourself. Please do not comment anything childish, hateful or derogatory towards my work because it will be automatic block. Kinktober is a time to explore things I’d normally not write about but even so, it may not be your cup of tea. Don’t report or try get something slapped with a label because YOU don’t like it. Simple.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•| * .

[writing this as of 9/10/2023, naturally this is subject to change but here are the plans so far for the upcoming works you can expect:]

stranger than fiction (sfw stories + interactive fics)

Beyond Fact or Fiction: an anthology series comprised of drabbles and fics based off of real events….or are they? That’ll be for you to decide. (multifandom)

Are You Scared of Me Yet?: they are your average, hardworking family. Working on their farm by day…body snatching by night?! The young couple finds themselves in quite a predicament when one of them is bitten a strange creature while outside and becomes undead! Now with an appetite for more than cookies and cakes, they must try to feed their desires for human flesh, all while keeping this dirty little secret from those around them! (cowboy reiner x baker black reader) (nsfw version available in Kinktober list)

Sacrilegious: music’s much more fun with a little contreversy and that’s a fact that EJ the Don knows all too well. No stranger to dark imagery and occult themes in his songs, the rapper decides to get a bit creative and raise the bar for his next video. With Halloween around the corner, his wife + beloved influencer, (y/n), who’s notorious for her out of this world costumes every year decides to join him on the fun by being his co-star. And what better way to debut the new track and visuals than at the Jaeger’s infamous Halloween Bash?! But along with insane reception from the fans and friends alike, they may have invited some unwanted attention…from both the living and dead! How will the it couple deal with this situation? (musician eren x influencer au) (nsfw version available in kinktober list)

undertaker: chrollo lucifer has always been the town outcast. Dubbed a weirdo, troublemaker and the person you’d want to avoid at all costs. Mainly due in part to his love of heavy metal, cigarettes and all things occult. Too bad for everyone else, he didn’t care to clear up his reputation..that was until the mayor’s daughter goes missing and he gets accused of being involved!..with no one on his side, the lonely Chrollo feels as if he has nowhere to turn. However, he ends up meeting someone who may be able to help him out of his bind…the local botanica owner with an equally terrible reputation! With a race against the clock and their backs against the wall, the unlikely duo team up in a whodunnit like you’ve never seen!

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵

Kinktober 2023 (NSFW Stories)

(these may be changed at a later time and characters are TBA but here are some of the kinks you can look forward to.)

office sex, pegging, free use, knife play, age gap (legal ofc), foot worship, size kink

pregnancy/lactation kink, gun play, sensory deprivation, anal, food play, pet play, CNC

BDSM/Shibari, fem dom, breeding, roleplay, corruption kink

impact play, exhibitionism, nipple play, spit kink, facefucking, car sex, orgy

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FLUFF/CRACKTOBER (feel good + funny fics)

• through the pumpkin patch: cowboy!reiner x reader

• first time for everything: scholar!armin x scholar!reader

• pick up the phone • doordasher!eren (ft. doordasher!connie) x reader

puuurfect fit! • choso kamo x plus size reader

trick or treat • ryomen sukuna x reader

carve me like one of your french girls • nanami kento x artist!reader

my dress up darling • seamster!mitsuya x cosplayer!reader

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taglist will be available. Let me know if you want to be added!

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all works are intellectual property of chrollohearttags. I do not own any characters mentioned except OC’s or reader descriptions. Please do not repost, steal or copy my fics. It’s not cute :(

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@greenieweeniesworld @spaceforher @anubisisthebomb @crazychaoticizzy @makaylasierra789 @momobaby227 @certified-stargirl @thickbihhwitdagapp @kameko-ko @valentineluvu @mukurosbracup @prettypink-princesss @bleach-your-panties

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bones4thecats · 6 months

Note

Hey! I love your writing and have been wondering what the ror characters (Poseidon, Thor, Adam, Hades, etc really your choice) would react to a blue diamond s/o from Steven Universe. As when they cry everyone else surrounding them cries. And their giant size. Sorry if this isn't the right place to request!

A/N: Hello there, thank you for the compliment. I’ve tried my best in keeping my writing skills the same, yet updated based on the scenario. But, I do hope you like how this turned out! I’ll be using the three Gods you had mentioned, and I’ll be leaving Adam out, but if you want another part written with Humans, just send it in! Now, enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🔱 You were part of the new Pantheon that had made their way into Valhalla, representing different gems that were found throughout the world by your ancient people

🔱 When he first met you, many said you would get along, especially Zeus and Hades

🔱 You sat by the edge of the sea, your towering form scaring away any Gods from speaking to you

🔱 He could feel the sadness radiating off you, and when he felt his vision blur, he reached his hand up and noticed he was crying out of free will

🔱 When you noticed him crying behind you, you gasped and apologized, saying it happened whenever someone was around, and even if they were happy, they’d cry

🔱 It took a while, but after you guys got together and married, it was normal to see your husband and you sitting side-by-side

🔱 To have this make a bit more sense, let’s say you can shrink down to his size

🔱 When you do that to rest, he likes to lay his head on your chest where you blue diamond laid, for some reason it calmed him down

🔱 Poseidon and you both were prominent figures in your pantheons, so being apart constantly was normal, but that didn’t stop you from accidentally making him cry

🔱 The way your merciful nature did come at a halt with how humans had started to get themselves tossed into hell made him fall for you more

“ Yes, look down on them, my teardrop. They are nothing. “

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🌩️ Thor fell for you because of how gentle and caring you could be

🌩️ It was something that he lacked to show, but you seemed to thrive showing

🌩️ You were known for your amazing diplomatic skills used through Gods’ Council meetings, and it could make anyone side with you

🌩️ The power you held made him happily look at you behind a dead-looking facade

🌩 Now, with the size difference, he doesn’t really mind it

🌩️ Normally, he’s the larger one, like this guy’s 7’4, he’s pretty much always taller than someone

🌩️ Thor would look up at you and smile lightly, giving you a kiss on your hand as you squatted down to reach his gaze, since you’d be like 25-100ft

🌩️ But, since you do enjoy shrinking down to do things with your husband, you normally go to around 6’5-7’0 most of the time whenever you’re not working with your sisters

🌩️ He noticed how much you seemed to care about this young male on Earth whom you called ‘Pink Diamond’ and he just smiled to himself as you laid down on his chest, telling stories of him and your sisters

🌩️ His favorite part of being married to you is how much you seemed to care about certain humans, as they were innocent and did no wrong, while you despised others and wished for them to die

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💀 Oh yeah, you and him bonded ever since birth

💀 You guys had been together for centuries, and he knew your sisters very well, they even enjoyed having him around

💀 He witness everything happen year-by-year, how much pressure White Diamond had put on you all, Pink Diamond leaving and ‘dying’, Yellow Diamond trying to push the memories of Pink behind her to be perfect, and you going through many essential crises

💀 Hades watched as you went through every single crisis, struggling at times to manage all of the colonies you and your sisters had

💀 So, being the best husband he could, he made sure to have your top superiority manage it while he took you to Helheim to calm you down

💀 When it came to the crying thing, he doesn’t mind it, seeing other Gods try holding themselves back from crying as you sat there doing nothing was quite funny

💀 And your size? Not a problem

💀 Cerberus loves the hell out of you, your big size and his big size (around 15ft) make a fun mix to play

💀 Seeing you shrink down to share a bed was funny at first, and now when he sees your form shrink he smiles gently and hugs you as you sleep

💀 Like Poseidon, he also likes to lay his head on your chest, but instead of laying his head on the gem in your chest, he likes to run his hands on it and mess with your hair that wrapped around your chest

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gay-wh0re-slut · 7 months

Note

Heyy, I just wanted to know if you could write a story with rhea x Fem! reader where the reader is ashamed of her body hair and Rhea comforts her,ending with a big smut✨️

Sorry for this request but my body hair makes me very uncomfortable and I need to read something like this🥺

don’t be sorry! body hair is normal and everyone has it! society has told us (women esp) that body hair is bad but it’s not, it’s natural! you can do whatever you want with it, shave it, don’t shave it, hell braid it if it gets long enough lol, i know it’s easier said than done but never be ashamed for things that happen naturally as a human being but don’t worry friend, i got you.

Ever, Ever

rhea x fem!reader

content: talks of body hair but then turns to hot sexy times with hot buff goth wrestler gf ooooo (slight choking, praise, oral, fingering, squirting hehe)

You giggle at a funny post you found on instagram, “look!” you turn the phone to Rhea who was sitting beside you on the bed.

She was doing some work on her computer but she turned to look, “oh, that’s a good one,” she laughed with you.

The two of you continue to sit in comfortable silence as she types away and you scroll away. You both loved nights like this, nothing going on, just being together, relaxing and enjoying each other’s presence. It was a good reset for both of you, with your nine to five job and her crazy one, it was good to just be.

She slammed the enter key one last time and closed her laptop, “finally,” she sighed as she placed it on the side table. “Do you want a snack?”

“Ooooh, yes please!” you smile at her.

“I’ll be right back,” and she walked out of the bedroom.

You smile thinking that there’s no where else you’d rather be. You’re with the love of your life, having a night in, doing absolutely nothing, well, now you were. She comes back in with a lot of things.

“I wasn’t sure what I wanted or what you wanted so I brought options,” her arms were full with cheez-its, fruit snacks and who knows what else.

“Oh,” you chuckle, “thank you, baby.”

She displayed them all out over the bed, she gestured dramatically over them twinkling her fingers to show you the options.

You decide on the fruit snacks, two bags because one is never enough.

“Good choice,” she said picking up the protein bar.

“C’mon, live a little,” you joke to her.

“Fine, fine,” she throws the bar down and taps her chin thinking. Finally she chooses the potato chips, “better?” she held them up, they were still the healthy ones.

“Yes, thank you,” you laugh.

“I’ll take the rest back,” she gathers up the remaining snacks and heads back to the pantry.

The two of you sit on your phones, enjoying your respective snacks, showing each other funny tiktok’s, memes, and cool drawings people made of her.

Her hand landed on your thigh, but you thought nothing of it, she loved to be touching you whenever she could.

You didn’t notice her put her phone down but you did notice when she moved herself closer to you and started kissing your arm. You kissed her head in a response but she kept going. Gently kissing up your arm until she made it to your neck. Wave after wave of pleasure sent through your body with every kiss. She took your phone out of your hand, that you weren’t really paying attention to anymore, and put it on your side table.

The hand on your thigh moved up to gently caress your hot center, “c’mon baby,” she whispered.

You moaned softly into her touch but suddenly stopped her, “no wait-”

“What’s wrong? You okay?” she immediately pulled her hand away.

“Yeah, it’s just… you’ve been away so I haven’t, uh… shaved,” your face was red from embarrassment.

“Baby,” her face softened, “I love every part of you no matter what. A little hair isn’t gonna hurt me.”

“But I don’t want-”

“Unless you got some crazy thing going on down there, like teeth or something,” she chuckled, “I don’t mind one bit.”

You tried to talk, “But it’s gro-”

She put a finger over your mouth, “It’s not gross, it’s not ugly, it’s normal. Do you care when I don’t shave?”

She didn’t move her finger so you just shook your head.

“Exactly,” she finally removed her finger, “if you don’t want to continue, that’s perfectly fine, but unshaven or not, I’m still gonna love you,” she smiled.

You gave her a weak smile, “are you sure? Because it’s pretty gnarly.”

“Baby…I promise.”

You stared at her for second to make sure she was really sure, “okay.”

“Now, can I get back to what I was doing or…” she said jokingly.

You giggle, “yes, please.”

Giving you a devilish grin, she bows her head to kiss your neck again, leaving soft slow pecks on your skin. She moved herself on top of you straddling your hips. Your hand tangled into her hair keeping it out of her way.

She nibbled at your ear until she whispered, “You’re so…” she kissed your jaw, “hypnotizing…” she kissed down your jawline, “and beautiful…” one of her hands snuck to your neck and gently squeezed, “and…” her hand clutched to your neck hard as she looked you in the eyes, “don’t you ever, ever think otherwise.”

Your eyes were wide but your smile was huge at the sensation, “yes Mami,” you choke out.

“Good,” she barked as she released her hand, “my sweet girl,” she then she dragged her hand over your shirt down to your pajama shorts, sneaking it under the waistband. Her fingers found your dripping center, “look at you,” she gently swiped her fingers against you, “barely even started and you’re already ready for me.” She teased at your entrance, but decided against it. So she settled for teasing your clit instead.

Your back arched as a long moan left you, “mmmmcan’t help it,” you released your breath. One of your hands was behind her neck while the other was on the back of her thigh pushing her in closer, digging your nails into the tattoos as she continued to work her magic. You pull her neck down so that she could kiss you, and that she did.

You didn’t expect it to be, but it was hot and sloppy and you begged for more. Her hand below went faster as the kissing became more intense. You made small whines into her mouth between labored breaths. Her lips finally let go of you as she pulled her hand out.

You huffed at the loss, but she quickly got off of you and yanked your shorts and underwear off and threw them onto the floor. Without hesitation, she spread your legs and immediately began to lap at your wet folds.

“Fuck,” you groan as your hands found their way back to her hair.

Her arms curled around your thighs, “you taste so good, babygirl,” then she began to suck on your clit.

You tightened your grip at her words as your eyes pinched closed but you could feel her smiling against you. You were squirming but she was holding you perfectly still with her insane strength. She finally let go of one of your legs, teasing her fingers at your entrance once more.

“Mhmm…yessss, please!” you whine.

“You know I love when you beg,” and she pushes her way inside.

“Oh fuck,” as your back arched again.

She was pumping in and out of you at a steady pace as she continued to use her tongue on your pulsing bud. You writhed under her grip but she kept your hips still. The pressure in your stomach was quickly building, “harder, mami, please!”

“Oh, you want it rough today, princess?”

“God yes, please,” you beg.

“As you wish,” she grinned.

You barely noticed but in one second she removed her hand, flipped it over, plunged back into you so now the heel of hand was facing up and her two middle fingers were pumping into you at an outrageous pace. She kissed your thigh before she maneuvered herself back on top of you. She kissed you, making sure that you could taste yourself on her tongue.

She trailed her kisses down your neck, then began to bite, rolling your skin in her teeth, “you’re doing so well,” she whispered, she sucked at your skin not caring if she left a mark, “you feel so good on me,” she said in your ear.

You were untangling beneath her, your eyes were in the back of your head, your hands were gripping at anything you could reach, her arms, her back, her hair, the sheets. You barely had any air in your lungs, your hips were riding her hand that was setting the ungodly pace, trying so hard to keep up.

“I know you want to, baby,” she grinned at the noises that were spilling out of you, “I’m not going to stop you,” her voice was calm and sultry, it was driving you insane, more than you already were.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” you screamed.

“C’mon baby!” she yelled over your deafening whines.

You gasped for air as you curled up with your mouth wide open and your eyes rolled back, “FFFUUCKK!!” the pressure inside of you released so violently that you slammed your head onto the pillow beneath.

She immediately pulled her hand out of you as you squirted all over the sheets and her hand that couldn’t move fast enough.

“Holy fuck,” you heard her say over your loud moan. She plunged back into you when you were done and continued her pace smiling from ear to ear, “again,” was all she said. Though this time, her free hand found its way back to your neck and squeezed.

Your hands gripped her arm as you gave her a wicked smile. Just a minute later, the pressure was back and ready to be released again. You groaned, whined and moaned as well as you could under her hand.

“Just one more time, princess, one more for me,” she commanded.

You followed orders and the knot in your stomach untangled again. You couldn’t say anything but a loud scream of pleasure, as she removed her hand, still not fast enough, and you squirted once more.

She released the grip on your neck and you immediately pulled her in for another sloppy kiss. Your lips smacked as she pulled away, “You’re so fucking hot,” she breathed.

You couldn’t fathom saying anything you were so weak so you settled for the wicked smile. You kissed her once more before going completely limp underneath her.

She sat on her heels next to you. She looked the mess you made underneath your bottom half and chuckled, “We gotta wash the sheets.”

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #god i need her so badly

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

that damn gala: Jason todd x fem!reader

the graphic is not mine, found it on Pinterest, all credit goes to the author.

Summary: credit for the idea goes to @p4inis: Can someone write a fanfic of “wear whatever u want, I know how to fight” Jason x fem reader???? Like they’re going to a gala and reader can’t choose which dress she should wear and Jay is her biggest hype man.

hope you'll like it: )

A/N: this is part of my Cheshire!reader!verse. You can find another story of it here in the post: Cheshire cat. And there will be more coming for sure since I'm having a lot of fun writing this verse.

Warning: cursing, a bit of sexual innuendo, but nothing explicit, Jason being a warning of himself :D

„Please, remind me why did I even agree to this?”

“Because you truly had no other option?”

“I hate you.”

“We both know you don’t.”

“Really? Do we?” Y/N smirked. Dick Grayson was her longtime friend and it gave her one privilege no one else had. She was resistant to him charm. So when he asked her to come over the annual Wayne gala it took a lot more than a pretty please and a nice smile to actually convince her to do so. Unlike many girls, she hated having to get all dressed up, putting on make-up and heels and acting like someone different than she really was only to win over some potential investors. Honestly, for a long time she couldn’t understand why was it her business. That lasted until Bruce offered her a job, an old RD position of her late father. Of course, the numbers were tempting but the thing was finally made her say yes was the opportunity to work with the latest technology and to put her ideas into work. And use them on patrols later on. So she gave in.

And soon one thing led to another, when she was forced to get involved into those stupid galas. Dick hated them equally as much, but at least he would be accompanied by Babs and they definitely would keep each other entertained. Unlike her friends, Y/N was going to be there by herself since for obvious reasons her beloved anti-hero boyfriend could not attend. So, she would either join Tim in deep conversation concerning Wayne Enterprises, sulk in the corner with Damian scaring people away with only look or spend the night getting drunk from all the expensive alcohol. One way or another it was going to be a loooong night.

“Yeah, we do. Come on Y/N, please, I’m gonna need your help you know it.”

“My help? Dick you are making zero sense. You will have your girl to dance with, Tim to take the duties and Damian for a security system. Why do you need me?”

“Because out of everyone you just mentioned, you are the only person that is actually fun.”

“Should I tell Babs about what you just said?” the girl laughed and heard Dick do the same on the other side of the phone.

“Please don’t” he turned deadly serious a second later “but you know what I mean. We both have known every guest for years now. We know their behavior, their bad traits and can predict who, when and how will make a fool of themselves. We have our inside jokes. Come on, please…..”

“Fine, stop whining, it’s out of character. I’ll come…..

“I knew you will give in at some point.”

“shut up, Grayson. I’m not giving in. Firstly because you will owe me and you know I’m not lenient when someone is in debt with me. Secondly, Jay will not like it, so good luck with having to deal with him. And lastly, I still got my cat claws on, so don’t expect me to be an egg-sucker.”

“As for the debts, that something we’ve been back and forth with for years now, so nothing new. I can deal with my brother, and Tim will deal with toadying, he’s used to it after all.”

“I hate you, Dick.”

“I know Y/n. See you at 9. You need me to pick you? Since you are coming alone?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Cheshire will swing by earlier and change in the manor if that’s fine.”

“I’ll leave the window open. See you, Y/n.”

“See you, Dick.”

She disconnected the phone and rubbed her forehead in frustration. She really though she would get away this year, but she’s been keeping this foolish hope for the last five years, always with no desired result. She always came and frankly it was never even half as bad as she expected, not that Y/N would ever say it out loud. But now, she had to choose a dress to go in and that was the hard part.

***

“Please, tell me you’re not preparing for the gala.” Jason stood in the door, only half-dressed In his gear, watching his girlfriend hurrying-scurrying in front of her wardrobe wearing only a sport bra and a pair of leggings.

“I am…” she groaned

“Was it Grayson? Did he force you? Do you want me to talk to him?” he took a few steps closer and grabbed her hands calming her down a bit.

“Nah. It’s fine. It’s always like this. He said I should come, I object, he uses his last-year arguments and I pretend to fall for them. It’s kind of tradition now. I would hate to break it.” She shrugged

“Maybe I can make knew tradition of making Dick attend the party with a bruise or…..”

“Stop it, Jay!” Y/N punched his shoulder and he grinned “if I really didn’t want to come, believe me I wouldn’t. But it really is entertaining making quiet jokes about all those bigwigs with excessive self-esteem and watching Tim trying his best to not speak his mind. The only thing that sucks about it is that I have to go alone” she moved her hands up his arms to his neck, pulling him in and he immediately grabbed her waist and leaned his forehead on hers, swaying from side to side.

“We can have our little party here. Or you can come with me to the patrol.” He whispered

“Mhm, don’t try to play me. That offer is a trap on your side, Red Hood only works alone. If you don’t count two teammates. And he does not want or need anyone else. Let alone little troublesome vigilante that also works with the bats.”

“That little vigilante cat knows her ways around words. She can play two sides, doesn’t she?”

“Jay, come on. You will never let me go with you and I will never ask. Too much of a risk and distraction. But I’m up for that party for two idea later on….”

“Do you have anything specific in mind?” he whispered seductively and leaned in to kiss her, but she quickly pulled away.

“Maybe. Maybe not. That depends if someone will take me home after the gala tonight. I mean, I have a couple dresses to choose from and I could use man’s advice on what to wear. Even if I absolutely hate the idea of playing the bait for man’s money. And I hate getting dolled up. I’ll be much more comfortable with tee and sweatpants or my suit. But I don’t have much opportunities to look nice, so…..” she pecked Jason lips quickly and moved towards the open wardrobe “what do you think, boyfriend?”

“Babe” every word she just said stung him. He knew she would never betray or cheat on him, but the thought of all those creeps staring at her and getting dirty ideas made him want to tie her to bed and keep her in the sheets with him, reminding her who’s the one to always keep her high and satisfied. But they all had duties to take care of. So he settled on embracing her from behind and kissing her neck softly “you know you can wear whatever you want. You will look hotter than hell. And I know how to fight if anyone would like to steal you away.”

“Babs is the resident beauty not me. If anything Dick should be scared. I’m only …. Addition.”

“Addition?” Jay kissed her neck again hitting her soft spot and making her gasp “you’re the crown jewel, babe. I wish I could go with you and watch everyone getting so jealous of me having you all to myself….” his lips on her skin was sending goosebumps all over her body.

“Jace….” She whispered closing her eyes

“Yes, sweetheart?” his grip was now tighter and she loved it and hate it at the same time.

“Let go of me. Now. Cause if you don’t neither me nor you will leave this apartment tonight.”

“Would it be so bad?” he muttered against her shoulder blade but reluctantly released her. “you should wear the black and red one. You will break necks in it.”

“Bet it has nothing to do with the fact some particular vigilante got those colors as a signature.”

“Vigilante? Who? I don’t really recall anyone choosing that palette.” He smirked with the boyish grin and she could not stop herself from kissing him again.

*** It was 8 when they both left the apartment, using different exits and wishing each other good luck. No hugs and kisses since that would only make them waver once again. Red Hood was on patrol while Cheshire made her way towards Wayne Manor making sure no one was following her. Being truthful to his words, Dick left the window open and without any trouble she found herself in his room, where much to her surprise she found Babs getting ready.

“Hey there, girl.” She smiled removing her domino mask and meeting with red-head wide and sincere smile “what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, kitten. Is my boyfriend cheating on me?”

“Oh, you caught me! I only came here to tell him our little affair was over since I cannot do this to my best friend.” Y/N put her hand on her heart “And arguably because my boyfriend was after him to hurt him, but that’s on the side.”

“It’s good to see you Y/N.” Barbara smiled again and came to hug the other girl “dick told me you were going to get ready here so I thought we might as well help each other in preparation.”

“Oh, thank god for your foresight. I have no idea how to drape this freaking dress to avoid putting my whole chest on display.

“I had my suspicions about that.”

“And I am absolutely hopeless with makeup and hairdo, so yes, please and thank you for any help you can give me.”

“Don’t worry, my friend. I will make you look perfect.”

***

Barbara really was a magician with women stuff. Only because of her skillful hands and endless ideas Y/N was now looking like a real lady, classy and gentle, even if most of the times she was just a girl next door. Her dress fit her perfectly and any risk of showing too much was eliminated by cleverly used veil, draped on girl’s shoulder. Her make-up was almost invisible since Y/N had pretty skin (luckily she got no bruises or cuts for the last week so there was no problem with that) and she refused using anything more than some concealer, liner and mascara sticking to the minimum. Unlike Babs she ditched the lipstick not wanting to look like Joker after having one drink and leaving stains on the glass and all over. But still, she felt odd, especially standing next to Babs with her perfect figure and proud posture. Cheshire was used to skin tight suit that was supposed to protect her and enable all the kicks and punches, but this? Evening gown that accented all her hated curves and imperfections made her feel exposed, not protected. And this was another tradition that was happening every single year even though after all this time she should already be used to it.

“good evening, ladies.” Dick emerged from behind and offered an arm to Barbara “Babs, Y/N.”

“Richard.” Babs smiled at her boyfriend

“Hello Grayson” Y/N smirked only to cover for her insecurity. In a second she would be left all alone like a prey while Dick and Babs will make rounds together.

“You look nervous kitten” Dick pointed out and Y/N scoffed

“Nervous? Of course I am. I’m nervous for the safety of everyone here. You know I got…..”

“claws, I know. And that is exactly why I took care of things.”

“I’m sorry you did what?” she nearly choked because of his words.

“There’s this one guy, really big fish in IT industry. We are trying to get him to share some ideas with WE. And since you are in a warlike mood, you will talk to him. Besides, you are the only one here that actually knows enough about the technology to cover the subject so…..”

“Are you insane?!” she yelled-whispered “did you even hear a word I told you about attending this gala. I wanted out of the radar not being put on the spotlight! What happened to…..” she paused when an elderly couple passed through and smiled charmingly “what happened to the inside jokes and making fun of people?!”

“I’m sorry Y/N, but it’s like I said. You’re the only one knowledgeable enough to succeed. Just this one guy, please, and then you are off the hook.”

“Where is Tim when you need him?” she hissed and reached for the nearest glass of champagne “I don’t think I can do it sober.”

“I will owe you twice” Dick pleaded

“That is tempting…..”

***

The guy assigned to Y/N was hot. Tall, dark haired and well-build, with perfect nose, lips and all face. His eyes glistened when he saw her approaching and in a real gentleman manner he turned towards the girl.

“You must be miss Y/N Y/L/N?” of course his smile was perfect as well and Y/N was almost blinded by the whiteness of his teeth

“I am” she smiled through gritted teeth “I suppose you’re the tech genius Mr. Blake?”

“ Please, call me Desmond. It would be so much easier to cut the distance this way”

“I see you are very direct Desmond. Does that match in the workplace?” he might have been a predator but she was the one who hold power over words, not the other way round.

“We are not in workplace, are we?”

“But we are supposed to discuss some RD matters.”

“Who said we can’t have a little fun while at it? This is a party after all.”

“High-class party, Mr. Blake and as a CEO you surely understand that.”

“Of course, I had nothing wrong on my mind. Tell me, miss Y/N, do you dance?”

“Only when I’m forced to” she muttered making sure he couldn’t hear her while taking another discreet sip of champagne

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I do, although I am not very good at it.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right partner. Let me guide you” he offered his hand and lead Y/N onto the dancefloor.

This was going to be a looooong night, she thought while noticing Dick and Babs moving to the music on her left. Dick put his thumb up while Barbara only smiled. This was already a torture. Hopefully, things were going better for Jay.

***

Two hours and three drinks later Desmond seemed a bit nicer than at the beginning. Y/N was not drunk, she was used to keep her senses alerted all the time so she poured away all the alcohol Desmond so wholeheartedly kept on bringing. He did not and that’s why they were now sitting on the secluded couch, far from the crowd, the man babbling about how pretty she looked and how much of his type she was.

“I think you had enough Mr. Blake” she put a hand on his when he reached towards another glass. Apparently that was a mistake since he turned her gaze towards her, his eyes widening.

“Tell me Y/N, why is a girl like you alone at the party? I mean, you are hot.” Oh, fuck. She knew where he was going now. “and everyone here is just ogling you, me included.” Fuck square since he moved closer, almost grabbing her hip.

“ You’re drunk” she said standing up “I think you should sober up. Alone.”

“Don’t you dare turning your back on me, you little bitch. Who do you think you are?”

If only he knew…..

“A woman who knows better than to argue with you. You work for your own reputation Mr. Blake and let me tell you, you are only embarrassing yourself right now. Maybe you should stop before some reporter takes a picture of you stumbling.”

“You think you are so high and mighty, huh? A strong, independent woman, working for Wayne? Acting like a whore to get some attention and you can’t even get a boyfriend?”

“Careful with words, now” she warned slowly turning into Cheshire

“Or what? What exactly will you do, huh? Cause I don’t think you will do a thing…..” he lunged forward and before she could react had her pressed onto the wall, his lips on hers “you are only good for one night stand. And you ask for it, wearing that dress, you little bitch. You only deserved to be fucked and forgotten.’ He was using the fact no one could see them in this place

“Get the fuck off me!!!” she yelled all her instincts kicking in when she pushed the man away and he stumbled back. Unfortunately, while doing so, he stepped onto the hem of her dress tearing it apart and leaving Y/N legs almost completely exposed. “Damn it.” She muttered turning red while the man started laughing like crazy which finally caught some attention and Dick immediately came running for rescue.

“What is going on here?”

“Your little wanton friend is finally dressed the way she should be from the beginning.” Blake snorted

“Mr Blake, I think you should leave….” Tim rushed from the other side of the ballroom scared that either his brother or his friend would kick the man’s ass and made even more of a scene. This was going to be a PR nightmare.

“Leave? Oh, no, no, no. Not before I have a little fun with your little rag doll, here.”

“Let me though.” Another voice interrupted the discussion and Y/N, Dick and Tim turned their gazes towards the side where it came from.

“You’ve got to be kidding me….” Dick whined

“Oh, hell no!” Tim screamed

“What the…..?” y/N said in surprise

“What. The fuck. You think. You are doing?”

“Jason…..” dick tried to step between his brother and Blake before it came to fisticuffs. All of a sudden the latter became much more sober than a second before.

“Get out of my way, Dickhead. This scumbag just humiliated my girlfriend. I will not let him get away with it.”

“I’m sorry but…..”

“You are not sorry.”

“You’re right. I’m not sorry and I can’t let you through. We are trying our best to avoid bloodbath here.”

“I don’t fucking care! He asked for it.”

“Jason.”

“Back off, replacement!”

“Jason.”

Only now he stopped in his tracks. Because of her voice. Her soft, calm voice. All this time she was standing there silently watching the scene, her dress torn apart , hair messy due to the scuffle, being her calm, collected self. Fuck, she was so beautiful, somewhere deep inside he could not blame this man for wanting her. Who wouldn’t wish for this beauty to be in his arms. But she was his and only his. Only he was allowed to hold her and kiss her and love her. No one fucking else. And this one here, were not only trying to force himself on her, but also called her a bitch and a whore. And that was something Jason Todd could not let go easily.

“Jason, please, let’s just go home.” She said calmly “come on, baby. Nothing happened, all right? He’s not worth your anger. He’s just sad, pathetic man with a lot of problems, apparently. I’m safe.”

“Baby” Jason came closer to her sneaking his arms around her pulling her close “he needs to be punished. He offended you. Let me take care of that…..”

“Nope. Not this time. Besides, as much as I appreciate your effort, I can take care of myself and this one is just beyond are level. So why bother when we can go home and have that little party for two you mentioned earlier?” she caressed his side softly looking straight into his eyes and he was slowly melting.

“See? I told she is a whore! You better watch out for her, she will cheat on you with the first man…..” Blake did not get to finish the sentence when Dick and Jason grabbed each of his arm and dragged him out the door.

“This will hit all the headlines tomorrow morning….” Tim stammered out, his face as white as a ghost

“You can just buyout all the press companies in Gotham” Y/N said, equally white, but not because of the press.

“Are you kidding me now Y/N?!”

“Come on, Tim. Not the first PR drama for WE. We can turn this around. If not as Y/N and Tim then as Cheshire and Red Robin. We’ve done this before, all right?”

“Fine.” He huffed “One problem at the time. Now, are you all right? He did not hurt you, did he?”

“He could never. I’m better and stronger than it seems in this dress, or rather half-dress now.”

“Good. Otherwise I would have to stand against my own rules and help dick and Jason beat the man.”

“Speaking of the devils, this is taking them too long. Do you think maybe we should check out what is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. The boys are making sure Blake would never come around again. And from what I can predict his company will go down soon.” Barbara chimed in

“If that’s coming from the Oracle, who are we to argue?”

“By the way, where is Damian? He was supposed to act like security. How the hell did Jason sneak in? Not that I’m complaining, but I’d rather dance with my boyfriend than see him fight again ….”

“I was not the security! I never wanted to be here in the first place! I was forced!”

“Who wasn’t?” Tim scoffed

“You’re good Y/N/N?” Damian asked turning towards the girl

“Yes! God! I’m fine, please stop asking me that. I’m just a bit ….. tired.”

“You can stay at the manor than. There is always a place for you.”

“Thanks Dami, but…..”

“She is not going to stay. I’m taking her home.” Jason came into the view again, his nose bleeding.

“What did you do Jace?”

"I told you I know how to fight for you."

“Where is Dick?” Barbara became alerted and both girls exchanged looks

“I’m here. I’m fine. It’s all taken care off.” The oldest Wayne was clutching his bleeding nose as well.

“Did you two have a fight? How unsurprising…..”

"Wait, you beat each other instead of that fucking Blake?" Damian frowned "Can I do it then? I need some action, this party is boring like hell."

"He's been taken care of as well. Probably won't come around ever again" Jason stated proudly.

"What did you do him? Can you descibe in details?" the youngest brother suddenly became much more energetic and interested.

“I’m out, I’m done” Tim turned around throwing his hands in the air “you are all on your own now. I;ve got to do some damage control. See you tomorrow, Y/N. Remember your promise.” He left and so did Damian leaving Jason, y/n, Babs and Dick alone.

“Why did you beat him Jace?”

“He was supposed to watch out for you!”

“I said I’m fine!”

“But who knows what could have happened?!”

“could have, would have, should have….. How about we stop with the possibilities that never came to life, hm? How about you calm down, Jace?”

“How can I calm down?! You could have been hurt!”

“Dick? Babs? I’m so terribly sorry for everything that just happened.” Y/N decided to stop paying attention to Jason for a while.

“As much as I hate to say it, it might have been a bit of my fault.” Dick admitted

“a bit?!”

“Shut up Jason. I’m not talking to you now!” Y/N hissed and he just stood there with open mouth but did not dare saying a word. “I think we should call it a night, do you agree, Babs. We can’t let boys kill each other, right? Someone has to be smart.”

“Yeah, that’s true. We can’t ever rely on them with life choices, can we?”

“Nope. But I guess that’s the Wayne charm. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Sure y/n. I’ll let you know if dick’s coming after Jay to take revenge for the beating.”

“Ok. I’ll let you know if Jace is coming after Dick to avenge my honor” Y/N laughed and waved Babs and Dick goodbye before turning to Jason. “As for you….”

“Look, I did not mean to make a scene…..”

“Jay….”

“I saw you in danger and acted without thinking…..”

“Jason….”

“You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you…..”

“Oh for god’s sake!” she moved forward and cut his babbling with a passionate kiss taking him by surprise and leaving a few spare seconds for his brain to react and started kissing her back, his hands travelling up her sides. “I love you, you idiot. And I’m not mad at you, really. That was kind of…. Hot.”

“Only kind of?” he smirked

“Yes, because you still think I cannot take care of myself. You really don’t have to put the guns out every time you think I’m in danger. Especially when I’m not.”

“but you still like me in my vigilante mode, don’t you?”

“I never said it.” She scoffed

“Sometimes, words are not needed. I can settle on sounds.” He smirked and she smacked his head becoming red.

“Why are you even here? What about patrol? What about….red’s matters?”

“It’s a quiet night. I was patrolling nearby by accident….

“by accident?” she raised an eyebrow

“And thought I would swing by. And you know the rest.”

‘You are a child, Jason. A big child. And we definitely have a lot to work on in that area. Are you going back on patrol?”

“I wasn’t planning on, but…..”

“Good. Cause you know, I might be a bit turned on and need someone to take care of that. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Let’s go upstairs.” He picked her up and carried her the stairs to his old room, bridal style.

“Wait, here?!” she squealed when he threw her onto the bed and climbed up hovering over her body.

“Do you think I can wait? Honey, I need you right now.” He pressed his lips onto her, delighting in the way she melted into him and started letting out those sweets sounds. “now we can start our party” he smirked moving down her body, removing the straps of her dress and taking care of each square centimeter of her body.

“Jason….” she moaned arching her back “come on, don’t tease…..”

“I’m taking my time with you, babe. You will have to deal with it….”

@pinksirensong @somest1 - let me know if anyone wants a tag in any of my stories

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

Text

The Best Kept Secrets - Jake's Story

dbf!Jake Lockley X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - AO3 Link

Suggested reading order - Marc -> Steven -> Jake

Marc's Story - Steven's Story

Had to use Google Translate for some of the Spanish so please forgive me if it's incorrect.

Summary:

You've just graduated college and you find yourself developing feelings for your dad's best friend after your graduation party. Three different versions of the same story all with different boys.

Tags/Warnings (for all three fics):

NSFW, age gap (reader is about 22 - boys are 40), reader is not race-coded, reader graduated college in America but isn't necessarily American, p in v creampie, unprotected sex, dbf trope, oral sex, coercion (sort of on both sides), Jake being Jake, Marc being Marc, Steven being Steven, forbidden relationship, forbidden sex, blowjob, mild bondage, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, car sex, bad puns

Word Count: 8.9k

Spanish Translations (for phrases I don't normally use when writing for Jake):

Estas tan mojada cariño - You're so wet sweetheart

Muy hermosa - Very beautiful

por qué? - Why?

----

You got out of the Uber when it stopped in front of your childhood home. Your dad was already waiting for you by the front door, smiling wide. He came over with his arms out, pulling you into a big hug. You grunted from the tight squeeze.

“Hi dad.” You choked out.

“I sweetie.” He let go of you and looked you over. “How was the ride from the airport?” He started taking two of your bags out of the trunk and walking back toward the house with you in tow.

“Long,” you said with a tired laugh.

“Well, hope you’re not too tired cause there’s a few people here to see you.”

He opened the front door and you were greeted by several relatives and family friends in the kitchen. They all shouted, congratulations! at once, holding up an assortment of beer bottles and glasses of wine. Knowing your dad, the drinking had been going on for a couple of hours before you arrived.

“Thanks everyone,” you said with a big smile, feeling a little shy having all those eyes on you.

You noticed the black and gold, congrats graduate, banner adorning the wall above the table in the dining area. With the initial excitement over, the crowd dissipated and you watched everyone start mingling once again. Your cousins came up to you and started exchanging quick updates on their lives while everyone else chattered around you throughout the house.

“What do you think, huh?” Your dad asked, coming up behind you while you admired the cake in the center of the dining table. He handed you a mixed drink.

“Dad, this is really great. There’s so many people! I really wasn’t expecting this when you said we were having a graduation barbecue. Thought maybe only a couple people would show up.” You looked to see your aunt talking with one of your dad’s friends in the living room.

“You know me better than that. Not everyday your kid graduates college,” he patted your back proudly, “shit, gotta go check the grill. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, you watched your aunt and your dad’s friend finish their conversation. You’d known Jake since you were a kid, but it had been a long time since you’d seen each other. He came over to you and held up his drink as if to say cheers. He still looked overconfident as ever, and you wondered if that would ever change.

“I knew you were smarter than your dad, cariño.” He nudged you.

You chuckled, “that’s not nice, my dad may not be the most academically inclined but he’s good at other things.”

“Yeah yeah, you know I have to give him a hard time, don’t take me so seriously.” Jake sipped his drink and then pressed his lips into a tight smile. “So, what are you going to do now? You’re smart, talented and…” Jake’s eyes raked over you and back up again, “muy hermosa.”

“Jake, Jesus.” You whacked his arm.

He chuckled but persisted with his question, “so, what are you gonna do?”

You shrugged and let out a heavy sigh, “I don’t know. I guess I need to get my resume made up and then I need to start applying for jobs.”

“Tell you what…” Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, extending it out to you, “text me when you get an interview and I’ll make sure you arrive in style.”

You looked down at the card.

Lockley’s Luxury Limos and Cars

“Can’t have a pretty girl like you showing up in a plain old taxi cab right?”

You felt your cheeks flush over Jake’s endless compliments. This was the first time you’d really looked at Jake. He’d always just been your dad’s best friend. He was a naturally attractive man. His hair was styled so that a lazy tuft of curls rested just above his right eye. He seemed to have perfectly tailored clothes for every occasion that fit him like a glove, and a suave demeanor that screamed “lady's man” to pull it all together. The way he looked at you now had your stomach fluttering with excitement. You noticed the way he bit his bottom lip and looked you over again.

You cleared your throat, looking away from him.

You nodded, sipping your drink, “thank you very much, that would actually be really awesome, but maybe one of those luxury sedans and not, like, an actual limo.” Someone called your name from outside, interrupting your casual conversation, and you were relieved for an excuse to walk away. “I gotta go, see you around, Jake.”

“You too hermosa.”

After several hours and a few drinks later, you were sitting around the firepit with only your dad, one of your cousins and Jake. Jake was always telling exciting stories around the fire about the fights he used to get into when he was younger. Your father was always chiming in on the conversation to add in the parts of the fights that he participated in. Truth be told, you didn’t really care to hear much about your dad and his friend’s schoolyard fights. After finishing your fourth drink, and feeling sufficiently tipsy, you stood up, ready to go to bed for the evening.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you announced.

“Oh come on cariño, one more,” Jake looked up at you, eyes twinkling in the light of the fire.

You looked over at your dad who seemed like he was starting to doze off, and then at your cousin who was already making his way indoors before you locked eyes with Jake again.

“Uhh…you know it’s probably best that I don’t push it. I’ll end up sick and no one wants that.” You giggled and leaned over, placing a friendly pat on Jake’s shoulder, “goodnight.”

You started to leave, but Jake grabbed your arm and pulled you forward, forcing a gasp from you as he brought his lips to your ear. Jake smelled like leather, tobacco, and a musk that you’d never smelled before on anyone else. It was intoxicating to say the least. You felt like you could get lost in it.

“I’ll be up in five minutes,” he whispered, “if you want company tonight…just put a scarf on your door handle bebita.”

He let go of you and you stood up straight, staring at him in utter disbelief. You almost asked him to repeat himself. There’s no way he said what you thought he just said. That would be crazy…right? His lips curled into a sly smile as he winked at you. Jake’s smile was so fucking beautiful. Why hadn’t you noticed before tonight how good looking he was? This feeling was so wrong…but you wanted him so badly all of a sudden. It had to be the alcohol, that was the only logical explanation.

You didn’t respond to him, not verbally anyway. You gave him a shaky nod as you pulled your arm away and hurriedly made your way to your bedroom. Your mind was racing as well as your heart. You pressed your hand to your chest the moment you closed your bedroom door behind yourself. What was the matter with you? What was the matter with him? He was your dad’s best friend. You shouldn’t have, but you looked in your closet, seeing the array of scarves to choose from…but a moment of clarity pushed through the fogginess of your mind, and you didn’t choose one after all.

Instead, you got into your bed, deciding that the act of doing anything like that with Jake would make you riddled with guilt for the rest of your life. You’d never be able to look your dad in the eye again. You heard Jake come upstairs and stop by your door. You wondered if he was disappointed or not, but decided he can probably get a million other women that weren’t his friend’s kid. He’d be alright, and you would both be able to maintain your dignity. You figured he was probably only acting like that because he was drunk anyway.

At least that’s what you thought, until morning came and you were sitting across from him at the dining table eating your breakfast with Jake and your father. Whenever your dad wasn’t paying attention, Jake’s eyes were on you. He was looking you up and down like you were something to be devoured. You felt your cheeks becoming flush under his watchful gaze. The space between your legs sparked alive and you found yourself pressing your thighs together to quell the ache.

Jake managed to make small talk with your father, not sounding much different than usual, but you couldn’t shake the secret conversation from the night before. You were struggling to figure out how things were going to go back to normal after that. How was he supposed to just keep coming over for get togethers and barbecues all summer now that you two had this weird thing between you?

The moment your father went up to use the bathroom, you took the opportunity to remove yourself from Jake’s watchful gaze. You cleared your throat and stood from the table.

“I’m going to…gonna go upstairs and…” You turned around to leave and felt his hand around your wrist tightly. He spun you around to face him, pulling you in by the small of your back. He stood up so quickly. “J-Jake I didn’t put the scarf on my door for a reason.”

“I know hermosa. I just wanted to give you another opportunity to change your mind, in case you have any regrets.” You felt his erection prodding your abdomen through his pants.

“W-what’s the opportunity?” You asked breathlessly. You shouldn’t have even been entertaining this.

He brought his lips to your ear, just like he had the night before, “you have my number. When you get that job interview, and I come pick you up, if you’re wearing something red…then I’ll know you’ve changed your mind, comprende bebita?”

Jake’s face was close to yours, but with your father coming back down over the stairs he released you. You felt like you’d just run a marathon the way your heart was pounding out of your chest. By the time your dad saw you both, you were sitting across from each other again like nothing had happened. The only difference now was that you were sitting in a puddle of your own juices, and Jake was finally giving your father his undivided attention. This was going to be a tough decision, because no matter how much you cared about your dad…you never wanted anyone so badly in all your life.

----

For two weeks you were on a job hunt. You weren’t always sure if you were looking so hard because you wanted, and needed, to get a job, or if it was because you wanted an excuse to text Jake. You were sure he wouldn’t mind a little text here and there during the time leading up to you asking for a ride, but you were too nervous to message him without a good excuse. The guilt would eat you alive whenever you thought about it. The day before your interview you texted him…

You: I have an interview tomorrow. Can you come get me?

Jake: Of course bebita. What time?

You: The interview is at 10

Jake: I’ll be there at 9:30

When he showed up, you were wearing a sharp looking, business-casual, outfit with your makeup done in a way that complimented your features nicely. You stepped outside and locked the door behind you before making your way up to the sleek black Lincoln. Jake got out, he looked so handsome in his white button down, black jacket and tie. You nearly froze in place, not sure if you should get in the car with him, but you kept walking, stiff as you might’ve felt, toward the passenger's side. He came around and opened the door for you. His eyes trekking over your body didn’t go unnoticed.

“You look very nice, cariño.”

“Thank you,” you said as Jake put a hand on the small of your back, helping you into the front seat.

As he pulled out of the driveway, you started to feel anxious, partially for the impending interview, and partially for the provocative man on your left who kept stealing glances at you. You tried not to pay attention to it, keeping your eyes straight ahead, but you could still see him in your peripheral.

“You gonna tell me where I’m taking you or am I supposed to guess?” Jake chuckled at his own joke, and you sat there feeling like an idiot for not volunteering that information already.

“Oh, shit um…” You opened your glossy white folder full of your materials for the interview. You gave him the address and then sat in more awkward silence.

“You might want to try relaxing before you walk in there. Those businessy types can smell fear a mile away,” he turned down a different street. “No red I noticed, interesting choice.”

“Yeah,” was all you could bring yourself to say.

It was quiet again for the rest of the ride, and Jake didn’t open your door for you when you arrived. You sensed it wasn’t for lack of him being a gentleman, but rather the impression it might give a potential employer to have someone opening your door for you before an interview.

----

Your interview went well and they said they’d call you when they’d made a decision. When you got back out to the car, you specifically got in ass first. You were slow, making sure that he would see a peek of the red thong, that you’d worn especially for him, over the hem of your pants.

After the interview you had gone to the bathroom and adjusted your outfit so the red lace would show when you sat down. It had taken a lot of self talk for you to come to the conclusion that you were desperate enough to do something about this feeling you held toward him. You were soaked through your panties during the majority of the interview, and even as you got back in the car now you felt the dampness of your arousal between your legs. You needed him.

You turned your head back toward him, looking to meet his eye…he noticed. You grinned, bringing both of your legs into the car and closing the door. Jake had a sly smirk curling at his lips while he started to drive, as if he knew you weren’t going to be able to resist him forever.

In a matter of moments, the car was tucked away in an abandoned parking lot and you were in the spacious back seat with your slacks and panties discarded along with Jake’s hat and Jacket. He kissed you hungrily, rolling his hips over you, dragging his clothed erection along your inner thigh until it met with your mound. A moan rumbled through his chest while his hands explored your waist.

He undid his belt, tugging it out of the loops. You expected him to toss it aside, but instead he strapped it around your wrists and secured them to the car door. You tugged your arms forward, testing the security of his restraint, you weren’t going anywhere. Your eyes were wide, not realizing this was something he was into, though it wasn’t all that surprising when you thought about it. Jake always did have a dominating presence. He leaned forward and murmured in your ear about how wet you were, dragging his bare fingers over your slick folds. You shrieked when he pushed one thick finger inside.

“F-fuck!” You shouted, “oh my–”

“You’re so tight bebita, but you can handle more can’t you?” He brought another finger to join the first. You arched your hips into it further, “there you go, what a good little girl.”

The third finger ached as it stretched you out, but eventually any pain turned to pleasured sounds from your lips. You looked at Jake, his eyes kept shifting from your cunt, back up to you. You bit your lip so tight you thought you might break the skin. He looked proud of himself for making you squirm so wildly without even fucking you yet. He started pumping his fingers even faster.

“Oh that feels so good!” You couldn’t keep eye contact with him anymore and you found yourself gasping and panting while you looked up at the car ceiling.

“Who else has made you feel this good cariño?” He asked, curling his fingers now and dragging them over the spot deep inside of you that made you whine. “My wrist is fuckin’ drenched.”

You could hardly speak anymore. You worried for the car door as you were involuntarily pulling roughly on the leather belt binding you to it. Jake looked at you, waiting for your answer. You tried to speak, but only choked cries came out.

“Come on, tell me who else has made you cry this hard in their backseat, who else has made you feel like this?”

“N-no one, Jake!” Your body felt like it was melting into the leather seats while your orgasm closed in.

“That’s it, you’re so close, I can feel your pussy throbbing cariño, just let go for me.”

His words of encouragement were all you needed to let yourself fall apart around his wide fingers. You were screaming pleasured cries while you felt your cunt gushing over him. He was praising you for doing what he asked, saying things like, that’s it and keep going bebita. You arched yourself more over his still pumping fingers, chasing the final high of your release, until it was over, and he pulled out of you with a wet pop.

You watched him spread his three fingers, all webbed by your slick. He darted out his pink tongue, lapping up every bit until they were clean. You watched the display in awe, never knowing any man to do something like that. He smacked his lips and smiled at you.

“Tastes good hermosa.”

Jake leaned over and undid the belt around your wrists so you could move again. You were excited now for more, ready to make him feel good too. You shot your hand out and pressed your palm to the space between his legs. You felt the fabric over his half-hard cock, it was wet and warm.

“D-did you already-”

“You should’ve heard yourself bebita, can you blame me?”

----

You were starting to wonder if Jake was ever going to come back to your house, until your dad was on his way out the door for work and told you he’d received a text from Jake yesterday. Apparently he needed to come over and borrow one of your dad’s tools. Your cheeks grew hot immediately when you thought about it. Your dad left, and you just stood there wondering what you were going to do when he got there.

You could still remember what Jake’s lips tasted like, and what his hands felt like. You still thought about him when you were alone in your room gasping quietly with two fingers plunged deep inside your wet channel. You wanted him, but you were afraid. What if your dad found out? You couldn’t risk it…but maybe…maybe Jake was worth the risk.

No, you said to yourself, shaking the ridiculous thought from your mind.

That was why you hadn’t texted him, or responded to any of the texts he’d sent you. It was the guilt still eating away at you. He’d asked you to meet up twice, and you’d ignored him both times. You hoped that when he came over he wouldn’t be too upset, and that he would understand the position you were in. You felt mentally strong, like you’d successfully convinced yourself that you weren’t going to give in if he tried anything, that all sounded great…until he walked in through the front door a couple of hours after your father’s departure.

If you could comically strip all of your clothes off like Jim Carrey did in Bruce Almighty you would’ve. Jake charged forward, cupping your face in one hand and grabbing your hip with the other while his lips made harsh contact with yours. You moaned into him, slipping your tongue between his lips so you could taste him. You jumped up, wrapping your legs and arms around him, letting him catch you by your rear.

Jake turned, still carrying you in his arms, and pushed your back against the wall, never disconnecting his mouth from yours. He churned his already prominent erection against your clothed cunt desperately. You cupped the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his dark and luscious curls. Jake sounded like an animal the way he was groaning into you.

“Any reason you ignored me for two weeks hermosa?” Jake kissed down your jawline, settling on the soft skin on your neck, just below your earlobe

You whimpered softly, “I-I was feeling guilty about my d-dad.”

You felt the smile that crept over Jake’s lips against your skin. He brought his face back up to look at you, eyes darting between yours. He brushed the tip of your nose with his own, his flirtatious smirk never wavering when he did.

“Thought maybe you’d found someone else, someone maybe younger…someone your age.” He returned his mouth to yours.

You spoke between his hungry kisses, “don’t care about anyone else.”

Despite knowing that you should find someone else to care about, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of anyone other than him, especially not since your time together in the backseat of his car. Besides, no one knew you like Jake did. Jake had always been there to talk to you on the late nights after a family barbecue when you couldn’t sleep and your dad was already in bed. He was there to drive you to prom and then tell you to go ahead inside while he had a “casual chat” with your prom date. He was there when you left for college, making sure you knew how to hold your keys on your keyring in between each finger in case you needed to stab someone. You, fortunately, never needed to utilize that skill.

“I want to feel you this time bebita, let me in hm?” Jake hummed against your mouth.

“Yes, yes–please!”

Jake wouldn’t have the chance to get that far, not after hearing a truck door slam in your driveway. He let go of you, and you immediately went into a panic, realizing that Jake being in the house and not the garage with the tools looked suspicious. Always quick on his feet, Jake rushed to the kitchen and you saw him grab a beer out of the fridge just before the door opened and your dad started walking inside. He smiled at you on his way in.

“Hey, Jake in here?”

“Oye!” Jake said, coming around the corner to the entryway with a beer in hand. “Just saying hi to…” Jake saying your name instead of using a pet name didn’t sit well with you, not since those were the only names he’d been calling you recently. “Just grabbing myself a drink. Didn’t expect to see you!”

“Yeah, forgot my lunch like an idiot,” your dad huffed out a laugh.

After some more casual conversation, Jake left the house at the same time your father did, but not before he winked at you and kissed your cheek while your dad wasn’t looking. The guilt was killing you. It was getting difficult to even look your dad in the eye anymore. When you were in bed later that night, mind buzzing about Jake and your most recent encounter, you made a very difficult decision. You pulled out your phone and texted Jake.

You: Things need to go back to the way they were. The next time you see me, please respect that.

----

You weren’t exactly thrilled by the prospect of Jake coming by to check on you while your dad was out of town for the week. You wondered if he was going to respect your wishes in your text, or if he was going to make this harder than it needed to be. You also weren’t sure about your own ability to behave yourself around him. You’d been spending your nights over the last two weeks trying to stop thinking about that stupid moment you had in the car together, and the stupid moment more recently when he had you against the wall in the entryway of your home. There was no telling how you’d feel when you actually saw him again.

When he finally showed up, it was after dinner. You were sitting on the couch watching some crappy movie about five guys taking down a Columbian drug lord. You paused the movie and turned around to see him standing there. He still had that annoyingly attractive smirk on his face. You felt your heart rate picking up despite your desire to stay calm around him.

“I’m just here to check in on you, don’t worry.” He said, slowly walking to the other side of the couch.

You gulped, and nodded, “okay, yeah that’s…that’s okay.” You sounded like you were out of breath.

Jake sat as far from you as possible on the opposite side of the couch. You pressed play and settled yourself, trying so hard to focus on the movie, but you could feel his eyes looking at you. When you turned your head to confirm, he narrowed his eyes on you seductively. Your brow was playfully furrowed while you looked back. It was as though his gaze alone had the power to make you come undone; you immediately felt an uncomfortable tingling between your legs that demanded attention.

You kept staring at each other, letting the movie run on, completely forgotten in the background. You were trying to keep yourself from giving in, you were trying so hard. Jake inched over, face getting more serious as he approached.

“You look cold bebita, why don’t you at least…just come here…let me warm you up a little…”

You nodded all too eagerly, letting the wall you’d worked so hard to build crumble down as though it were made of mere rubble. Jake just had this way of making you forget yourself so easily.

“Y-yeah, sure.”

You slid over and curled into Jake’s arms, letting him hold you while he leaned back against the couch. There was no harm in him just holding you…right? You were cold after all, so he was just being helpful. Of course there was no way he could possibly help the prodding of his cock inside his pants, that was only natural, right?. As long as you didn’t act on it, then it didn’t mean anything.

You acted on it.

As the movie droned on, not doing much to keep your attention, you became even more slick between your legs, and even more eager to feel his thick cock inside of you. You turned around, leaning your chest on his and looking up before slotting your lips against his hungrily. He still tasted so good, and you hated to admit how much you’d missed him. You let go of your prior reservations in an effort to just enjoy being with him, if only for the night.

“I don’t want to waste any time,” you said, starting to work on his white button down shirt, “why do you always wear this damn-”

He grabbed your wrists, forcing you to look at him.

“No, we’re going to do things the right way this time. Your papá won’t be back for a few days…I’m going to take my time with you, bebita.” His tone was rough with his growing arousal.

He pushed you up so he could stand before lifting you easily in his strong arms and carrying you to the stairs. You held onto him until he got to your bedroom and laid you on the bed gently. You watched him start unbuttoning his shirt himself, but you felt the inexplicable urge to do it yourself. He looked surprised when you stood up and swatted his hands away.

“Let me…please.” You sounded embarrassingly desperate.

Jake gave you a cocky smirk before he leaned in and latched his mouth to your neck, grabbing your asscheeks while you unbuttoned his shirt. It felt like unwrapping a present, there was something so exciting just below the fabric. You finally got to the bottom button and he helped you slide the shirt off his arms. You could see him now, his beautifully broad chest, softly toned abdomen. Every last bit of his body made you want him all the more.

“My turn,” Jake said, pushing you backward to the bed until your knees gave out.

You flopped back, arms falling in a heap above your head. He brought both hands under your shirt and pulled it over your head. Your nipples grew erect almost immediately in the chill of the air. Jake leaned over you, taking one of them in his mouth, cupping the other in his hand and squeezing roughly. You moaned deeply, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him closer. You felt a growl rumble up through his throat. He looked at you from under his lashes.

You let go of his head when he stood upright. He tugged at the waist of your pants and panties, pulling them down over your ankles and tossing them to the corner of the room. Jake was starting to unbutton his pants but you sat up quick, grabbing the waist of them. You looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Can I do it?”

Jake huffed out a laugh, “why are you so interested in undressing me yourself hm?”

“I just want to…”

You trailed off while you started on the zipper, he’d already taken care of the button. You brought the zipper down, to which you heard Jake hum when it slid over his cock. You were more excited than you could put into words to finally see it, to hold it in your hand. In a swift motion you brought both his underwear and pants down to his thighs, and you had to flinch back to avoid being hit in the face with his member. It was massive.

Jake laughed, “careful you don’t poke out your eye hermosa.”

You took it in your hand, feeling the weight of it and reveling in the size. You lapped the bead of precum leaking from the slit. He tasted delicious. In dire need of more, you stretched your lips over the girth of him, bringing yourself over the length as far down as you could go. A deep, strangled groan left his lips, inspiring the arousal between your thighs to grow. You touched your fingertips to the swollen nub between your legs.

“Mm, si bebita, así,” he said in a rough tone, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you further over his cock.

You gagged, and choked on it, bringing both hands up to hold his hips for stability. Jake snickered while fucking your throat, groaning when you swallowed around his thick girth. You felt your eyes burn, realizing it was too much and tapping Jake’s wrist in a desperation to get him to release you. For one more second he held you there, just a little longer than you could handle, before he released you into a gasping mess on the bed.

“Jake I–” you continued gulping down air between words, “I couldn’t breathe what the–”

“Vamos, you did just fine, now on your stomach.” You started to protest but he grabbed both of your thighs and flipped you over as though you weighed nothing, “up.”

He still stood at the side of the bed as he grabbed your hips and pulled your soaking cunt to meet with his prodding thick head. You could feel it pressed against your entrance, he felt so big, so fucking hard. This was going to make a mess out of you, you just knew it.

You cried out when he slid into you, splitting your cunt wide as he brought his hips flush against your rear. You could hear him muttering in Spanish behind you in between moans. His pace was unforgiving and almost painful with how hard he snapped his hips into you repeatedly.

“You’re so wet…so fucking–wet–shit…and tight…ah–damn–cariño.”

You could hardly hear him over the sound of your pleasured whines filling the room, no, the entire house. You’d be surprised if the neighbors didn’t come knock on the door thinking someone was being harmed in there. You started to drool on your sheets, feeling the saliva trickling down and making a mess of your face. Any makeup you had on was burning your eyes now, having washed away with your tears.

“Hermosa, your little pussy is squeezing around me so tight…oh–fuck.” He was grabbing your hips so rough, slamming into you harder. “Looked so pretty, swallowing me like that. Fuck, you take me so well bebita.”

His words were encouraging, making your entire body electrify and the heat pool in your core. You turned your head and looked back at him. His eyes were closed tight and his head was tossed back. You noticed the stray tuft of curls falling just above his eye, clinging there with the sweat beading on his forehead.

It hit you suddenly, the concentrated wave of built up arousal deep inside of you. Your voice was nothing but an airy raspy flurry of moans while your cunt gushed over his thick cock. Based on the way Jake’s hands grabbed onto you tighter, you sensed he wasn’t far behind. His hips came to a stuttering halt and you felt his pulsating girth shoot warm spurts into you, painting your insides white. You thought he would’ve been done immediately, but he sat there, holding onto you with a bruising grip, keeping himself inside of you while he grew soft.

“That…” he pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back before hovering over you on his elbows, breathing heavily, “was worth the wait.”

----

Jake hadn’t stayed with you that night, in fact, you insisted that he needed to go. Your father wasn’t due back for a couple of days but you were far too nervous about getting caught to risk spending any more time with him. You decided that night that it would be the end of it, so when your dad had told you three weeks later that he was coming over for dinner, you froze. It had been a while since you and Jake had been in the same room, and even longer since you’d been in the same room with your father. The pit in your stomach was already forming.

Your phone buzzed on the counter and you picked it up. Joey, the guy you’d met last week at the local coffee shop, was asking if you were still on for tomorrow night. You replied, ‘yes’, and then looked back at the neglected texts Jake had sent over the last few weeks.

Jake: Hola bebita, when’s a good time for me to see you again? - 3 weeks ago

Jake: Giving me the cold shoulder now? That hurts cariño. - 2 weeks ago

Jake: It’s too bad, wanted to see you use that pretty mouth again. - 1 week ago

When he walked into the house, wearing his flat cap and white button down, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was still so handsome. It’s not like you expected that to change, but you’d hoped that maybe you would’ve stopped mentally putting him on a pedestal by now so you could move on. But you didn’t, and you couldn’t.

“Hey,” you said nervously as he made his way to the dining room.

“Hey.” He looked at you with that smug smirk, the one that always made him seem like he was up to no good, because he often was up to no good.

The heat rose to your cheeks in a rush, making you feel lightheaded. You looked away from him quickly before making your way to the dinner table. Jake and your father joined you. The small talk was just what you needed; your father asking Jake how business was going and Jake asking about your new job. Jake would catch your eye once in a while, licking something off his spoon seductively while your dad wasn’t looking, or sucking some sauce off his thumb to tease you. It was impossible to look away.

“So, why don’t you tell Jake about…you know,” your dad gave you a knowing smirk.

This could actually work in your favor. Maybe if Jake knew you were going on a date he would finally let it go and things could go back to normal. Maybe.

“Oh! Yeah I’m going on a date tomorrow! I’m looking forward to it.”

You watched him lick his bottom lip and pull it in under his top teeth. You gulped, wondering how he was going to react to this news. He shifted and downed his entire glass of wine in two gulps. You thought it seemed like he put the glass down a little harshly, but that could’ve been your imagination. You swigged your own wine down to help with your nerves.

He hummed amusedly, his eyes narrowed on you, “so, you like this guy?” Jake asked, never taking his gaze off of you.

“Yeah I do,” you tried to sound confident in your answer, “only talked to him a couple of times, but he seems really sweet.”

Jake let out a deep chuckle that sent a chill down your spine. He had a way of appearing so villainous that it made you worry for your Joey’s wellbeing. Jake leaned forward and inhaled deeply. You looked over at your father who seemed to be too preoccupied with his steak to bother with the staredown you and his friend were having.

“Lucky guy…”

Your dad heard that.

“Lucky? Ha! I worry for the kid, she’s gonna eat him up and spit him out, this one.” He gestured to you. “Been saying it all along, she needs someone tough like you.” Your father laughed loudly, “this kid she’s seeing tomorrow ain’t shit.”

“Hm,” Jake’s lids lowered, “like me you say?”

“Mm, someone who doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

“Thanks dad, I think I can figure out what I need.” You got up and took your plate to the sink. You didn’t want to discuss your lovelife with him and his friend any longer. “I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” You left without looking back to see his expression.

You didn’t sleep, you just lay there scrolling through your phone for a couple of hours. Your father had gone to bed almost a half hour before you heard Jake working his way upstairs. You thought for sure he would walk right by your room and go to the guest room, but he didn’t. Jake twisted your door handle and walked in, closing the door quickly while he stepped inside. You sat up and looked at him quizzically, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes.

“What are you doing in here!?” You asked, brows raised in surprise.

Jake was already removing his tie and approaching you with it in hand. He didn’t say anything, but you knew what he wanted from you. He bit his bottom lip and looked at you expectantly. There was no good reason for you to offer your wrists to him like an obedient little thing. No good reason for you to let him tie you up to the headboard so easily. No good reason for you to stare the way you did when he took off his shirt and put his head between your thighs.

“I think you’re going to have a lot of fun on that date, bebita,” you felt his warm mouth as he kissed the space on your panties that rested right over your cunt, “you must be excited.”

“W-what do you mean? Do you want me to go on the date?” You moaned when he tucked his finger in the band where your right thigh was, brushing the back of his index over your pussy lips.

“Si, I think it’s a great idea,” he said, letting the pad of his finger slide between your folds, “I’m very curious to know how it’s going to play out.”

He tugged the waist of your panties, bringing them down over your ankles and tossing them to the floor. He got his face close to your mound again, inhaling deeply. He hummed an approval before touching you again, circling his middle finger over your greedy clit. You arched into him, biting your lip hard with need.

“I just thought…I think we should–fuck–Jake–I’m–t-trying–trying to talk,” you had to press your lips together tightly to keep yourself from being too loud when you whined out a moan.

“Then talk cariño , I’m not going to stop you.”

“I just don’t think we should be doing this, we’re going to get caught and–oh!”

He put his mouth over your mound, sucking and slurping at your folds like a man starved. You were nearly in tears trying to keep yourself from screaming and alerting your father to your secret rendezvous with Jake. You looked down and saw Jake’s eyes narrowed playfully while he made a meal out of your cunt. He shoved a finger into you suddenly, and you managed to hold back the shriek that nearly escaped your lips.

He continued fingering you while he spoke, “I’m interested to know if this boy will make you feel good hermosa. You seem eager to get away from me, I can’t wait for you to tell me if he makes you feel the way I do.”

“It does–doesn’t–oh–m-matter Jake, he’s not my dad’s fr-friend,” you managed to say through gritted teeth.

He brought a second finger in to meet the first. He flicked his tongue over your clit now while he dragged his two thick digits over your walls in a come hither motion. You felt like you were made of nothing but air, your body melting into his touch with every gliding movement. He looked up at you again.

“Think he can do this to you? Think he can make you feel like this?”

“Maybe he can–fuck!”

His tongue was working on you again, moving so fast it felt like it was vibrating over your clit. Your lips were pressed together so tight you thought they might bleed. His fingers were pumping faster, you felt his lips pucker over your burning nub, sucking it between his teeth. You inhaled deeply, squirming underneath him, pulling your wrists against the silk tie holding you in place and forcing the bedframe to creak.

The truth was that this guy, Joey, probably couldn’t make you feel this way. Jake had a lot of experience, that much was clear. He was older, wiser, and something about the way he made you feel had no parallel. You knew in your heart that no man would ever be able to meet the standard he’d set, but you needed to try.

“I can feel you getting close, hermosa, you gotta keep quiet so your papá doesn’t hear you come…hm?”

You weren’t sure it would be possible for you to keep quiet. You wished you were able to cover your mouth with your hand at the very least, but the restraints made that impossible. He looked up at you while his tongue continued swirling over your clit, eyes etched with a bit of humor in the creases. You dug your heels in, pushing your hips further into his mouth, deepening the reach of his hooked fingers.

The overwhelming pleasure melted over your body in a wave. The way his tongue softened when he felt you reach your climax told you how well he knew your body. You felt the burning deep in your core with each strong contraction over his thick fingers. Somehow, you managed to keep your lips sealed against the onslaught of pleasured cries that threatened to escape you.

He pulled his fingers out of you, spreading them to admire your sticky slick and then licking your juices off each one. He chuckled, untying your hands and then walking over to a towel you had laying over your vanity chair. He wiped his mouth and chin with it, along with his hand and wrist. You’d really made a mess of him. No wonder he’d taken off his shirt.

“Did you really mean that? Do you want me to go on that date?” You asked, accepting the towel when he handed it to you.

“Si.” He started putting his shirt back on. “You want out so bad? Go find yourself a good little boy who will make you squirm the way I do cariño.”

His boldness always left you speechless. He gave you a borderline cruel grin as he leaned in and kissed you gently, making your stomach spark with excitement. Every little thing Jake did was so mind numbing. You wondered if you were too addicted to him to actually give anyone else an honest chance at dating you.

“Fine then…I’ll go.”

----

You’d never felt so stupid.

You were sitting inside the restaurant wearing a tight red dress that you’d dug out of your closet just for this loser who couldn’t be bothered to show up. You’d been waiting for a half hour, checking your phone every few minutes to see if he’d texted you but with no luck. How long was too long to wait? In your mind, if someone was interested, they would’ve been there on time, or perhaps even early. You should’ve known better. Maybe this was why Jake didn’t care if you went on this date or not. He knew that most men paled in comparison to himself, and that you’d see that for yourself soon enough without his interference.

The bell above the restaurant door jingled, catching your attention. You looked over and felt a strange combination of relief and anxiousness fall over you.

Jake.

He always looked so cocky, carrying an expression that you’d learned to love and hate equally. He nodded to the host, smirking and pointing in your direction before walking toward you. Jake took his jacket off and put it on the chair behind himself and then pulled it in as he sat. He didn’t say anything right away, putting his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hand while he ogled you.

“Hola hermosa.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” You whispered harshly, looking around at the restaurant to make sure no one who knew you or your dad was in there. You relaxed a little when you realized it was safe.

“I came by to see how your date was going,” he flashed a handsome smile at you and brushed a stray curl out of his face. “I’ll be honest with you, you look too good to be sitting here all alone like this. I thought you could use some company.”

You were still feeling anxious about the possibility of getting caught, but the way Jake was eyeing you all over made you feel a spark of arousal between your tightly pressed thighs. The server came by and Jake placed his order and asked for two glasses of wine while you managed to choke out what you would like to eat. When the server left, Jake took your hand in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles and then letting both of your hands rest on the table together. You tried to tug your wrist back but he had a strong grip on you.

“Jake,” you hissed, “we could get in trouble if we don’t stop this. I’ve been telling you it needs to end.”

His brow furrowed and he leaned in closer, “you want this to end bebita?” You could punch him for smiling at you like that, “por qué?”

“If my dad finds out, he’ll lose his shit. Your friendship with him will be over, he will probably kick me out of the house and…I mean…can you imagine how much that would hurt him?” A stray tear trickled down your cheek. You wiped it away quickly, noticing that some of your makeup came off with it. “Shit. I’ll be right back.”

He let go of you, and you made your way to the bathroom. You’d been in such a hurry you hadn’t heard him sneak in directly behind you. He was already grabbing you, one hand reaching up under your dress to tuck between your thighs and the other nestling around your neck while he walked you toward the sink.

“Jake what are you–oh!”

You gasped when his fingers found their way past the thin barrier of your underwear and to your pulsating, needy clit. Jake swirled his digits over the sensitive nub masterfully while he kissed the soft skin of your throat, his other hand still holding purchase around your neck. He looked at you in the mirror, smiling at you mischievously.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, moaning while he pressed his lips against you even more.

You felt the incessant prod of his cock against your rear. Of course you didn’t want him to stop, but that didn’t mean he should continue. With a large hand he pushed you over the counter, freeing his other hand from your pussy lips in order to lift up the back of your dress.

“I don’t ever want you to fucking stop, that’s sort of the problem isn’t it?” You willingly pulled down your panties to your thighs and then spread your asscheeks out wide for him.

“Oh–estas tan mojada cariño,” Jake’s voice was already like gravel in his arousal.

You felt the thick head of his cock throbbing as he dragged it between your pussy lips. He pushed between them, gliding so easily into your slick walls. You groaned, grabbing the counter for stability.

“No, no, no, spread yourself back out for me. I wanna see how good you look while I fuck you wide open bebita.”

You did as you were told, pulling apart your cheeks for him once again. You felt him reach under your arms to secure his hands around your waist, leveraging himself to hit inside of you deeper. Keeping yourself quiet in that position was nearly impossible. Jake was unrelenting in th speed at which he fucked you.

“Oh–fuck, wish you could see the way your little pussy looks splitting around my fat cock. Can’t–believe–how–fuck–how good you feel.”

The wet sounds of his slick coated thighs slapping against yours filled the bathroom walls. You tried to stifle your cries by biting your bottom lip. You glanced up, seeing him in the mirror. His curls were in his eyes, bouncing against his forehead with every powerful snap forward. He looked concentrated, brow furrowed and lips pursed out while he huffed like he was running a marathon. When he looked up, catching you peering at him in the reflection, his face changed back to the usual smug facade.

“Like what you see? Huh?” He nearly growled out, “oh–feel that cariño? You’re like a damn vice grip, shit.”

Jake lurched forward, extending his right hand out to stop himself from falling. Losing your balance, you had to put your hands out too, grabbing the counter for stability. That’s when Jake took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and making your stomach flutter. He was being so intimate, as if this were more than just a random fling in the bathroom of a fancy restaurant with his best friend’s daughter. You couldn’t spend another day of your life without him, you decided in that moment. You needed Jake, in more ways than just the physical.

“Mm,” Jake leaned in so his lips were against your ear, “te amo bebita,” he said in a gruff tone.

As if he’d said the magic words, your cunt started contracting around him in your orgasm, turning you into a panting mess over the bathroom counter. He wasn’t far behind, cock pumping and stretching you out while he filled you with his hot spend. The bathroom was filled with both of your pleasured moans while you covered each other in your juices. When you were both finished, Jake pulled out of you, letting his cum trickle down your leg.

“Go get yourself cleaned up,” he said, wiping his cock and thighs off with a paper towel and buttoning his pants back up. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

He leaned over and kissed you before exiting the restroom. With shaking knees, and with equally shaky hands, you wiped your legs and thighs as best as you could before fixing your makeup in the mirror and then stepping back out to the restaurant dining room. You were smiling wide, unable to contain the feelings you were finally letting yourself feel, until you were almost at the table and you stopped dead in your tracks. Your heart dropped through your stomach.

There was Jake, sitting where you knew he’d be…but he was sitting next to…

“D-dad?”

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genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

Our Dear Creator

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader/Creator!Reader

Summary: The men are assigned to be at your side at all times and even though they are your most loyal followers, you consider them to be your friends and protectors. These men are not only devoted to you, but they will not hesitate to kill for you if they have to.

Note: The summary made the story feel like it's a yandere story, but it's not 100% yandere (or yandere in general tbh)! To be honest, I didn't really plan on writing another "SAGAU" fic, this idea just popped up in my head when I was daydreaming in school 💀 This is just like a mini-ish collection of the men dealing with the reader, their dearest creator. The reader isn't a weak creator (they do have bad eyesight though), the reader is just too nice in certain circumstances. I think that's the best way I can put it. Anyway! There's a new series (that is in the current ongoing Isekai'd!reader series) coming very soon! Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of other than it being religious-themed. There are some things hinted at but not fully mentioned in the story itself. Mentions of blood. Slight yandere theme? Tbh, it's nowhere near it, but I'm throwing it in just in case.

Word Count: 9.7k

Want to read another SAGAU fic? Read The Lonely God!

Ever since you arrived in Teyvat, everyone has been scrambling to try and meet you or be in your presence. Your arrival was sudden and unannounced, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Everyone was ecstatic to see you and have you present in their world. Because you’re widely worshipped throughout Teyvat by many, you’re more likely to be hounded by those who worshipped you and desperately wanted you to grant them a blessing or answer their prayers. For the sake of your safety, twenty-five men are tasked to be your protector while you reside in Teyvat.

“Uh, Your Grace, you’re going in the wrong direction,” Diluc chuckles.

You pause in your steps, turn to look at Diluc, and blink at the redhead owlishly. “Ah, I am? Also, please, Diluc. How many times do I have to tell you all to call me by my name and not my title?” You sigh.

A small smile appears on Dainsleif’s face. “Yes, Your Grace,” you give Dainsleif a dissatisfied look, which he ignores. “You’re walking in the wrong direction. The way to Mondstadt is in the other direction; you’re walking towards Liyue,” replies Dainsleif.

Your eyes widen, and you look over to the left, completely forgetting about Dainsleif calling you by your title rather than your name. If you squint your eyes and look very closely, you will be able to see the anemo statue of the seven from a distance. But unfortunately for you, you don’t have the best eyesight. It’s a bit ironic, isn’t it? An all-powerful god such as yourself has a terrible vision. You squint so hard your eyes nearly shut. Zhongli and Al Haitham sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose.

Al Haitham says, “Your Grace, I believe once we get back to the city, we should get your visions checked out,” Al Haitham says, crossing his arms over his chest.

You blink at Al Haitham. “Are you calling me blind?” You tease, poking Al Haitham lightly in the biceps.

Al Haitham’s eyes widen, and he begins to stutter out a response, his cheeks flushing pink. You giggle and shake your head, quickly reassuring Al Haitham that you’re merely teasing him. Al Haitham sighs and looks away, his cheeks crimson red with embarrassment while Kaveh snickers beside Al Haitham, earning a glare from the Acting Grand Sage.

Kaveh takes a step toward you and holds his arm out for you to take. “Unlike these fools, I’ll lead you to Mondstadt, Your Grace!” Kaveh announces proudly.

You smile and link your arms around Kaveh’s arm. “Then lead the way, Kaveh! And please just call me [Y/N]. I understand you’re all used to calling me by my title, but I’ve insisted that all of you call me by my name many times already,” you sigh.

“I don’t know….” Xiao trails off, propping his hands on his hips and staring at you intently.

Aether interjects, “Is it not disrespectful for us to call you by your name? You’re our creator, and we all respect you very much.”

You give Aether a big smile and shake your head. The warm glow around you seems to brighten whenever you smile; the tiny sparkles and glitter in the warm light shine brightly, nearly blinding the men around you. The warm glow around you is what makes you stand out from the citizens of Teyvat, and it makes you recognizable and easy to spot from afar. The glow around you is like a mood meter of yours. The light will shine brightly when you’re beaming with happiness, and when you’re sad or in an awful mood, the light is dimmed, but it’s still there nonetheless.

The sight of your smile and the warm glow around you brightening made Aether feel some type of way. He can’t pinpoint what it is exactly, but seeing your smile made him feel warm and soft on the inside, his cheeks turning bright pink.

“Calling me by my name isn’t disrespectful, Aether! I am giving you all permission to call me [Y/N]. But if you all want to continue to call me by my title, then I’m not going to stop you!” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

Tighnari holds his hands up. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you want us to call you by your name? We don’t mind calling you by your name. Still, we don’t want other people to question why we’re not calling you by your title,” Tighnari says, crossing his arms over his chest while looking at you curiously.

“Not only that, but people will call us disrespectful for not calling you by your title,” Cyno interjects.

You smile at them sheepishly. You’re not entirely sure if they’d be okay with you wanting to form a friendship with you. Yes, you’re a god, and you created everything that exists in Teyvat. However, the events that took place in Teyvat thousands of years ago aren’t your doing. You created the people and the world. The things that happen in Teyvat aren’t your doing. Heck, you don’t control the weather either! Why did it feel like you had deja vu just a second ago? All these thoughts, these feelings of yearning for friendship and connection, feel all too familiar.

You hum thoughtfully. “Alright, well, you can all call me by my title when other people are around. When it’s just the twenty-six of us, you can either call me [Y/N] or Your Grace!” You said simply. You turn to Kaveh. “Anyway, let’s continue our walk to Mondstadt. Please lead the way, Kaveh,” you say.

The birds are chirping, and the sun is high in the sky, beaming down on you and the twenty-five men. If it weren’t for the cool breeze, you and the men would’ve been feeling your skin burning. Zhongli brought an umbrella with him earlier to shield you from the sun and its UV rays, but you felt bad the others weren’t going to be protected from the sun either.

Zhongli sighs and looks around. “Are you sure you don’t want me to shield you from the sun?” Zhongli asks.

“I’m sure! As I said earlier, the others didn’t bring an umbrella. I don’t want to be the only one that is being protected from the sun and its UV rays,” you reply, looking over the bridge and at the ducks and swans swimming in the lake below.

Scaramouche scoffs to himself. “Who said we didn’t bring an umbrella with us?” Scaramouche asks.

Everyone pulls out an umbrella and holds it up to show you. You blink at the men and unlink your arms from Kaveh’s arm. Okay, so everyone has an umbrella, after all. But you know they won’t be using it for themselves; they’ll be fighting each other to see who will be the one to shield you from the sun with their umbrella.

“You know what? I don’t need to be shielded from the sun with an umbrella. I’ll be fine! Besides, we should arrive in Mondstadt soon anyway,” you say.

The men around you grumble under their breaths, watching you walk away from them after refusing to be shielded from the sun. They wanted to protect you from harm, and UV rays are harmful to the skin. You stifle your laughter and continue your walk while the men remain in their spots, waiting for you to realize you’re walking in the wrong direction.

Heizou runs after you and grabs your arm. “[Y/N], you’re walking in the wrong direction again! Our dear creator really does have terrible eyesight, huh?” Heizou teases. You sigh and let Heizou steer you in another direction toward the City of Freedom.

You are their creator. Everyone in Teyvat adores you. It’s not a secret that everyone worships you and has a shrine of you in their homes or at a huge shrine in each region of Teyvat. Without you, Teyvat wouldn’t have existed, and the citizens of Teyvat wouldn’t be here, standing before you and your shrine, worshipping you. The men swear to protect you with their life; no matter what they’re tasked to do, they will do it if you ask them to.

“Um. Does anyone know where my glasses are?” You ask, holding your arms out in front of you to make sure you didn’t bump or run into anything or anyone.

Kaeya chuckles and leans against the table. “Why are your glasses not on your face, Your Grace?” Kaeya asks, smirking while watching you feel around for your glasses.

“I’m not used to wearing glasses,” you huff, continuing to blindly search for your glasses. “I could’ve sworn they were here somewhere— Ow!” You screeched, clutching onto your toe and groaning and hissing in pain.

Childe runs to you, pulling you in his arms and carrying you bridal style. “Snookums— I mean, Your Grace! Are you okay?” Childe asks, holding you close to his chest and walking to the couch to gently set you down.

You’re too engrossed in your stubbed toe that you don’t notice Childe’s slip-up. However, the men stop what they’re doing and look at Childe with their eyebrows raised. Their hands are either propped on their hips, or they cross their arms over their chests. Childe mouths a “what” at the men before turning to you, grabbing the foot you stubbed and massaging it.

You sigh and cover your face with your hand. “I am rendered useless without my glasses,” you sulk, resting your head on the couch cushions. “But to answer your question, Childe, I’m okay. My toe hurts, though,” you whisper.

You don’t wear glasses, and now you do! After arriving at Mondstadt, you had an eye exam, and needless to say, your vision is so bad you’re almost considered legally blind. Therefore, you now wear glasses, and you have lost those said glasses. You have been wandering around your abode, searching for your glasses, only to fail. You could’ve sworn you placed them on your nightstand, but when you went to fetch your glasses, they were nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll be returning to my room now. Since I cannot find my glasses anywhere, I’m assuming they’re still somewhere in my room,” you sigh.

You remove your legs from Childe’s lap and get up from the couch. Kazuha quickly stops you by grabbing your arm and gazing at you with amusement. Of course, your vision is too blurry for you to make out the expression on Kazuha’s face. You squint at Kazuha, gazing at him quizzically. Well, technically, you look like you’re trying to look at the sun.

Kazuha grabs something from the collar of your outfit. You look at Kazuha’s hands, not seeing what he’s doing to the object in his hands. Kazuha tilts your head and places something on your face. You blink, and your vision becomes clear; you’re able to see clearly, thanks to Kazuha. Kazuha found your glasses, and he put them on your face for you.

“Your glasses were hanging on the collar of your clothes, [Y/N]. It seems you have put it there and forgot about it after,” Kazuha chuckles.

Ayato chuckles and shakes his head. “It seems like our dear creator is quite forgetful,” Ayato says, taking a sip of his boba.

You giggle sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. You’re not entirely a forgetful person, but because you have been occupied with visiting nation to nation, you forget about the little things. For example, leaving your glasses to hang on the collar of your shirt is one of them. You didn’t recall picking them up and folding them on your shirt collar. Maybe you need to rest and take a break from your duties as the creator of Teyvat. Starting now by going back to your bedroom and taking a much-needed nap. You’ve answered many prayers already, performed many blessings for the people of Teyvat, and spoken to those who have dropped by your shrine to worship you and drop off offerings to your shrine.

“Your Grace, would you like for us to walk you back to your bedroom?” Baizhu asks, walking toward you and Kazuha.

You smile at Baizhu and shake your head. “Thank you for your offer, Baizhu, but since I have my glasses now, I won’t need any assistance to my bedroom,” you reply.

Venti giggles. “Besides! It’s not like [Y/N] is a senior citizen like block-head over here!” Venti pats Zhongli on the back roughly, making the former Geo archon put on a fake smile to mask his annoyance with the anemo archon.

You snort at Venti’s comment. “Oh, please. I am older than both you and Zhongli. After all, I’m older than Teyvat and the universe as a whole! Did that, perhaps, slip your mind, Barbatos?” You tease.

Venti blushes and looks away, the tips of his ears turning just as red as the apples of his cheeks. You have grown quite close with your loyal acolytes. Technically, even if they are your loyal acolytes, you consider them your friends rather than followers or worshippers, despite that is what they are before you arrive in Teyvat. You’re glad you’re able to form a close friendship with these men and not have it be awkward between the twenty-six of you. You’re grateful for the companionship, and you’re thankful for their assistance and willingness to protect you from harm.

You walk upstairs to your bedroom after informing the men you’re going to your room to rest. When you arrive at your room, you take your glasses off and place them on the nightstand beside your bed. You lay on your bed and close your eyes, feeling yourself slowly drift off to sleep. Even though you’re a god and sleep isn’t necessary for you, you would take a nap and sleep as a way to rejuvenate. The days have been long and dragging for you since your arrival at Teyvat, but it’s something you’re not used to. You have been performing miracles and answering prayers day and night. But for some reason, when you arrive at Teyvat, you feel tired. Maybe it’s because you’re a part of their lives now, and you interact with the citizens of Teyvat almost every day because they will stop by at every chance you get.

Fast forward to a week later, you informed the men (now your friends; you get giddy when you call them your friends) you wanted to explore Teyvat, and they raised their eyebrows at you. You stand in front of the twenty-five men, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Even though you’re the higher power and the creator of the universe, your asking them for permission to explore around Teyvat (a world you have built yourself with blood, sweat, and tears) was comical to you for some reason.

“I don’t think you need our permission for you to go out and explore Teyvat, Your Grace. You’re the one in charge here,” Albedo says, crossing his arms over his chest.

You laugh sheepishly and play with the tassel hanging from your lavish robe. “I know that, Albedo! But still! You’re all with me almost every hour of the day, and I wanted to ask if it’s okay with you guys if we go out and explore!” You say.

Gorou nods excitedly, his tail wagging fast behind him. “I wouldn’t mind going out and exploring Teyvat with you, [Y/N]! It’ll be fun, and you get to see the things you have created in Teyvat!” Gorou speaks up, smiling from ear to ear.

You giggle and clap your hands. “Great! I’m relieved you’re excited to go out and explore Teyvat with me! Perhaps be my guides while you’re all at it,” you say, reaching up and pinching Gorou’s cheek without thinking.

Feeling your gentle touch on his cheek, your skin against his skin, nearly made Gorou faint. Gorou’s cheeks heat up, the apples of his cheeks turn bright pink, and his tail wags even faster than it already was. You let your hands fall to your sides and turn to look at the men, who quickly act like they weren’t glaring daggers at Gorou not too long ago.

Itto takes a step toward you and throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you toward his chest. “Well, if that is what our dear creator wants, then that is what they will get!” Itto announces, patting your head with his other hand.

“Great! Let’s get going now!” You say, getting out of Itto’s grasp and walking to the door to put your shoes on.

Thoma blinks at you and laughs nervously. “Uh, now? I thought we would be going tomorrow or maybe the day after tomorrow!” says Thoma, gazing at you curiously while tilting his head to the side.

You turn to look at the clock on the wall. It’s only ten in the morning. It’s not too early, nor is it too late to go out and explore Teyvat! Plus, it's not like you’ll be dragging everyone to the corners of Teyvat. You want to explore one region first, then explore the following six regions after.

Pierro crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you have a region in mind if we’re going to take you around Teyvat to explore?” Pierro asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

Before you can answer, Pantalone quickly interjects, “We will be exploring the cities and villages. Ruins are out of the exploration options, Your Grace.”

You nod. “Alright, deal! We will not be exploring the ruins, only the cities and villages!” You say. Then something dawns on you. “Wait, what if I want to explore the forests or the mountains?” You ask, propping your hands on your hips as you slip your shoes on your feet.

Dottore raises his eyebrows at you, but you don’t notice it because he’s wearing a mask. Dottore sighs and looks at the men around him. You’re a divine being, and yet you wanted to test to see whether you can withstand the sheer cold or not? You might as well visit Snezhnaya instead of Dragonspine if that area is an option in your exploration.

“Your Grace, I don’t think we should go to the forest to explore. While there are many of us, it’s easy to get lost in the forest,” Dottore says, frowning at you.

You purse your lips and point at Tighnari. “We have a forest ranger with us, Dottore! I’m sure he can guide us all in the forest of Sumeru without any of us getting lost!” You say, smiling widely.

You trot over to where Tighnari stands and loop your arms around his with a big smile. Tighnari blushes and nods in agreement while trying to keep a blank expression on his face. If you look closely, you can see the faint tint of pink on his cheeks. Since he doesn’t have human ears, Tighnari doesn’t have to worry about his ears being the same shade as his cheeks.

Capitano sighs and rubs his temples through his helmet. “If we explore the forest in Sumeru, please try not to wander off or get lost. We don’t want you to get lost in the forest,” Capitano says.

“Hehe, no need to worry about me getting lost, Capitano! If I do get lost, I’m sure all of you will be able to find me in no time!” You say.

You all immediately set out to explore the forest in Sumeru. To be more specific, the forest you’re all exploring is the Avidya Forest! It’s beautiful, and it’s enormous! You never cease to amaze yourself with the things you have created. You created so many things it’s hard to keep up with the things you have made and what randomly sprung into existence.

“What do you think of the Avidya Forest so far, Your Grace?” Heizou asks, walking beside you.

You look at the surrounding trees in awe. “It’s beautiful! The temperatures here are quite nice as well. It’s not hot, and there’s plenty of shade that’ll shield us from the sun!” You say. You turn to look at Heizou and nudge him lightly. “And please call me [Y/N]! I know you’re all used to calling me by my title, but we’re all friends here! I’m not going to smite anyone for calling me by my name,” you say, reaching out and letting your fingers brush against the moss-covered trees.

Baizhu and Tighnari rush to your side. “Your Grace— I mean, [Y/N], you’re not allergic to anything, are you?” Tighnari asks, gently pulling your hands away from the trees.

You blink at the forest ranger and shake your head slowly. “I’m sure I’m not allergic to the things I’ve created, Tighnari! I’m sure moss won’t pose a danger to me,” you say.

“[Y/N] is also a god, and I’m sure it’s rare for a god to get sick,” Thoma comments.

You and the men progress on your exploration in the Avidya Forest. It’s quiet between all of you. Not one person speaks aside from Tighnari. Tighnari leads the group through the thick forest, pointing at the interesting things you all come across during your exploration. Cyno decides to be the first one in the group (aside from Tighnari) to break the silence.

“What would a stand-up comedy team call itself in Sumeru?” Cyno asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tighnari drags out his sigh. Tighnari rubs his temples and shakes his head. “Oh, no. Don’t start now, Cyno,” Tighnari pleads, closing his eyes.

You tilt your head to the side. “I don’t know, Cyno. What is it?” You ask.

A small smile appears on Cyno’s face, and he says, “The AHAdemiya.”

Almost immediately, everyone around Cyno gives Cyno an unamused look. You snort and shake your head. You’re still unfamiliar with each man in the group, but the joke Cyno cracked just a few seconds ago is a huge contrast to his exterior.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you going to continue to crack jokes while we’re exploring the Avidya Forest for [Y/N]?” Al Haitham asks.

Kaveh huffs, propping his hands on his hips. “In all honesty, I would rather listen to Cyno crack his jokes for hours rather than listen to you complain about the littlest things,” Kaveh interjects, shooting a glare over in Al Haitham’s direction.

Albedo raises his hand. “Personally, I like Cyno’s jokes. I think they’re funny,” Albedo says nonchalantly.

Scaramouche raises his eyebrows at Albedo. “You do?” Scaramouche asks, finding it hard to believe that the Chief Alchemist enjoys jokes as horrible as the ones Cyno told.

You laugh nervously and rub your arms, unsure of how to react to the men bickering with each other. You turn to look at the other men, only to see Kaeya and Diluc arguing with each other. Through the sound of endless chatter, you made out the words “stepped” and “shoes.” You assumed Kaeya stepped on Diluc’s shoes while it was wet from walking through a pond. Then there’s Itto and Childe, getting ready to hit each other with a tree branch. You’re just relieved that they don’t have their weapons drawn out. It would’ve ended badly, and you’re not looking forward to parenting two adults.

“Can you two not fight right now?” Zhongli sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Especially in front of our dear creator,” Zhongli adds under his breath.

Childe huffs and pulls the sleeves up to his elbows. “Oh, lighten up, Mister Zhongli! I’m just here to teach this Oni a lesson about who’s the strongest and is capable of protecting [Y/N] without needing any assistance!”

Itto chortles and tightens his grip on the tree branch in his grasp. “You being a Harbinger does not mean you’re automatically stronger than the rest of us! Get off your high horse unless you want me to knock you off of it,” Itto proclaims, pointing the tree branch at Childe dramatically.

Just when you’re about to intervene and grab everyone’s attention, you see something move from your peripheral vision. You didn’t know what moved from the corner of your eyes, but you’re curious and tempted to see what the movement was. Since the men are too engrossed in their arguments, you decide to follow after the movement.

It’s not like the men are going to continue the exploration of the Avidya Forest without you! Plus, you’re only going to check and see what was moving. Once you get a glimpse of the moving object, being, or creature, you’ll head back to where the other men are at. Sounds easy enough, no? Wrong. You were wrong because the minute your eyes landed on the thing that was moving in the corner of your eyes, you found yourself sitting on the ground in the middle of the forest, occupied by the creature that was waddling away.

“Let’s just continue our exploration of the Avidya Forest! Seeing you all bicker in front of [Y/N] is humiliating, and I’m getting secondhand embarrassment,” Aether says, crossing his arms over his torso and glaring at the men around him.

Venti nods. “I agree! We all came out here to protect and guide [Y/N] while they see more of their creations in person. Instead, we’re arguing instead of doing what we were supposed to do!” Venti says, closing his eyes while rubbing his temples and shaking his head.

Baizhu interjects, “Let’s complete what’s left of the exploration and get something to eat. We’ve been in the Avidya Forest for a few hours now, and I believe [Y/N] might be getting hungry.”

“What do you think, Your Grace? How about we finish the exploration and get something to eat after?” Ayato sighs and turns to where you were standing a few moments ago.

Ayato and the other men freeze when they don’t see you standing in the spot you were at moments ago. Gorou and Tighnari have their ears perked up, listening to every sound very closely to see if it was you in any way. Alas, they did not hear you at all. There’s no sound of your voice, your laughter, your sigh, etc.— nothing at all.

Gorou runs his fingers through his hair. “Great! We lost [Y/N], and we have no idea where they could possibly be! We’re doomed, we’re doomed,” Gorou panics, pacing back and forth.

You couldn’t have wandered off somewhere far; it had only been a few minutes since you had up and left to who knows where. They have thought about splitting into groups to make it quicker to search for you, but some men objected to splitting up and searching for you in groups.

Kazuha scans the area with his red eyes. “The last time Childe, Itto, and Zhongli saw [Y/N] was a few minutes ago. They shouldn’t have strayed too far from the group,” Kazuha murmurs, closing his eyes and feeling the cool breeze against his skin.

“Keep in mind that [Y/N] has a glow around them. Perhaps that will make the search a little bit easier when we’re looking for them,” Kaeya suggests.

Diluc sighs and pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the feeling of frustration starting to set in when he couldn’t find you. How can he be so careless? Diluc was so occupied with arguing with Kaeya that he didn’t realize you had wandered off somewhere. And now look at where they’re at now. Searching for the divine being somewhere in the Avidya Forest.

Diluc presses his lips into a thin line. “I hope they’re okay and unharmed. I understand that it’s been a few minutes since they have wandered off, but I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault,” Diluc sighs.

Xiao scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Don’t blame yourself. You’re not the only one that didn’t keep your eyes on our creator. We were all distracted and didn’t keep a close eye on [Y/N],” Xiao says, letting out a frustrated sigh and running his gloved hands through his hair.

“Xiao’s right. It’s not your fault for [Y/N]’s sudden disappearance. None of us were keeping a keen eye out for them. Therefore, let’s not blame ourselves for [Y/N]’s disappearance,” Dainsleif interjects, dragging out his sigh.

The men immediately start searching around the Avidya Forest for you, searching behind the trees, bushes, and shrubbery. It’s possible that you could be playing a prank on them or testing their skills on their people-searching skills— well, in this case, god-searching skills. The more they look around, the more they become frustrated after not being able to find you in the areas they’re searching about.

“Any luck?” Pantalone calls out.

Pierro sighs and furrows his eyebrows. “Unfortunately, there’s no luck on my end,” Pierro replies.

Dottore pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a sharp exhale. “We’ve searched the vicinity. Where could they be?” Dottore asks, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Are we certain they weren’t taken by Eremites or Treasure hoarders?” Capitano asks, his eyes scanning each person underneath his helmet.

Tighnari and Gorou shake their heads automatically after hearing Capitano’s question. The chances of you being kidnapped by treasure hoarders and eremites are highly unlikely. For starters, Tighnari and Gorou would’ve heard them coming from miles away because of how good their hearings were. Second of all, if you were kidnapped by the two groups mentioned, everyone would’ve heard you struggle and scream.

Gorou sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “We would’ve known they had taken [Y/N] if they did. We would’ve heard them, and they would’ve made themselves known,” Gorou says, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Then where could they be? We searched around for them, and we couldn’t find our dear creator!” Kaveh exclaims, running his hands through his hair.

Before Al Haitham could interject, Tighnari and Gorou froze in their spots. Everyone gives the two men a quizzical look. Tighnari presses his index finger against his lips and gestures for the others to follow him. Tighnari leads the men to the small cave that is well hidden behind the veils of vines. The men cram into the cave and stop when they see the sight in front of them. There, sitting in the center of the cave, is their dearest creator, watching a floating dendro fungus twirl around and bounce in the air happily.

Al Haitham sighs in relief. “Your Grace, you’re safe,” Al Haitham speaks up, startling you and the floating dendro fungus.

You look at the men and wave at them happily, getting up from the ground and brushing dirt off your clothes. You didn’t look hurt, nor did you look scared of the floating dendro fungus in front of you. Speaking of floating dendro fungus, the men notice the creature shrinking back in fear and hiding behind you when you stand up. The floating dendro fungus peeks from behind your legs when you smile at the men after making sure to dust the dirt and grass off your clothes.

You rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “Ah, I assumed I was gone for too long,” you say.

“[Y/N], we were looking everywhere for you! You gave us a scare, Your Grace!” Heizou whines, hunching over with a dramatic sigh.

You give the men a sympathetic smile and approach them with the floating dendro fungus following close behind. You pull Heizou into a hug and sigh, rubbing the young detective of the Tenryou Commission’s back. Heizou freezes up in your arms for a second before melting in your arms, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his cheek on your head.

You close your eyes and sigh. “I’m sorry for making you all worry. I should’ve said something before wandering off,” you murmur.

“Uh! I think you shouldn’t be wandering off in general! I get that little fungus little guy is cute, but he is dangerous and will kill you if he gets the chance to!” Itto interjects dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the floating dendro fungus behind you.

You pull away from the hug and pout at Itto, petting the floating dendro fungus behind you without taking your eyes off the twenty-five men in front of you. The floating dendro fungus squeaks happily and leans into your touch.

“He didn’t hurt me! He’s the sweetest!” You say.

You turn around, pick up the floating dendro fungus and hug the fungus to your chest. You pet the fungus before holding it out toward the men, some flinching away from the adorable creature and taking a step back.

You smile sheepishly. “Can we keep it?”

Scaramouche scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Absolutely not,” Scaramouche says.

Ayato sighs and analyzes the fungus in your grasp. The fungus stares back at Ayato, blinking at the Kamisato heir owlishly. “It’s adorable, but you know they harm the people of Teyvat, [Y/N]. It may not have hurt you, but it can hurt other people around you and us,” Ayato gently explains.

You visibly deflate, letting out a tiny “oh,” before putting the floating dendro fungus back on the ground. The floating dendro fungus squeaks sadly, rubbing up against your leg. You pout and let out a few sniffles. You kneel in front of the floating dendro fungus, saying a few words of comfort and encouragement before watching it scurry out of the cave.

Aether clears his throat awkwardly. “So, do you want to continue to explore the Avidya Forest, or do you want to return to the abode?” Aether asks, scratching his right arm while waiting for you to reply.

You pucker your lips and think for a second. “Do you guys think we can order something and bring it back to the abode?” You ask, stroking your chin. “It’s been a while since I’ve had something cooked in a restaurant.”

Thoma raises his eyebrows at you. “What do you mean? Since you arrived in Teyvat, you’ve always had food cooked for you at the abode and when you’re having dinner with the leaders and archons of that nation,” Thoma says, crossing his arms over his chest.

You give Thoma a smile. “Whenever I’m bored, sometimes I would sneak into Teyvat and get something to eat. This isn’t my first time visiting Teyvat. It’s my first time exploring Teyvat out in the open without having to wear a disguise,” you reply.

Venti stares at you with his mouth agape. “You’ve visited Teyvat before?” Venti whispers.

Xiao rolls his eyes. “[Y/N] said that not too long ago, Venti. You’re just repeating their comment back to them,” Xiao mutters.

“I’ll explain everything over lunch. I’m starting to get hungry,” you say, putting both your hands over your stomach and feeling it rumble.

While you and the men are walking in Sumeru City, Cyno decides to break the silence.

“What did the mushroom say to the other mushrooms that all grew together and away from him?” Cyno asks casually, his eyes scanning the lively city.

Venti hum and taps his chin, trying to think of an answer. “I don’t know, Cyno! What is it?” Venti asks, looking at the Mahamatra curiously.

A small smile appears on his face. “Hey, let me join you guys. I swear I'm a fungi!”

The men around you let out a collective groan and give the Mahamatra a side-eye. You snort and shake your head. While the twenty-three men are groaning and rolling their eyes at Cyno’s jokes, Albedo cracks a smile and shakes his head, laughing under his breath while searching for a place for you all to eat.

Ever since that day, when you and the twenty-five men go out and explore, they made sure to keep their eyes on you in case you wander off like last time. Luckily, you didn’t wander off and stray away from the group during the explorations. You knew the men were protective of you. Still, you never knew how crazy protective they are of you until this one specific incident happened.

It’s a known fact that everyone in Teyvat worships you. Everyone, even the archons from the respective seven nations, worships you. When you have worshippers, there are those who casually worship you, there are people who are very devoted to you, and some devotees take it to the extreme and make things incredibly uncomfortable for you.

You and your friends, who are also your bodyguards, and most loyal acolytes, are walking to your nearest shrine in Inazuma. It’s a beautiful day out in Inazuma, and you want to take a stroll around the City of Eternity to admire the view and feel the nice cool breeze under the sun. Of course, since it’s a stroll under the sun, the men brought their umbrellas to shield you from the heat and the UV rays. Though you insist they use their umbrellas to cover themselves from the sun while you share an umbrella with Capitano because he is the one that’s guiding you to the shrine.

“It’s hot out today, isn’t it? It’s a good thing it’s a bit windy today, or else we would all melt because of the heat,” you say, sighing with contentment when you feel the cool breeze on your warm skin.

Baizhu nods. “Indeed it is. I was quite surprised when you said you wanted all of us to take a stroll to your shrine when we could teleport there instead,” says Baizhu.

“Perhaps it was a mistake, but you know what? It’s fine, and on the bright side, we’re almost to the shrine!” You say, wrapping your arms around Capitano’s biceps as he walks beside you.

The men have positions where they let you hold their arm while you’re out in Teyvat. While there’s no need for them to do that, they insist on doing it anyway because it’s to make sure you don’t trip or stumble on a pebble or uneven pavement when out of the abode. This position was established when you didn’t have glasses, but it remained after you got prescriptions. You think it’s kind of them to care about your safety! What you didn’t know is the reason why the arm-holding position remained is that these men wanted you to touch them. Not in an obscene way, but they like being close to you, and seeing you touch them, link your arms with theirs, hug them, etc., makes them crave for more of your touch.

“What are we going to be doing after we visit the shrine?” Kazuha asks, watching the sakura blooms fly and dance in the air.

You hum softly. “Ei invited us to have lunch with her, Kujou Sara, and Yae Miko at the Tenshukaku! How could I turn down an invite?” You say, turning to look at the men.

You hear Scaramouche make an audible “ugh” as he crosses his arms over his chest with his face pinching up with disgust and annoyance. Then there’s Itto, his face scrunching up at the mention of Kujou Sara. Gorou, on the other hand, looks anxious. His pupils are dilated, and his ears are pulled back while smiling at you nervously. Poor Gorou looks like he’s about to pass out at any moment. It seems like these three men aren’t fond of the women you mentioned. You blink at Itto, Scaramouche, and Gorou and turn to look at the others, who shrug in response.

Albedo clears his throat. “Is it just a lunch, or did the Raiden Shogun invite you for a meeting and then lunch after?” Albedo asks.

“I believe it’s just lunch! She didn’t mention anything about a meeting,” you reply.

When you and the twenty-five men arrive at the shrine dedicated to you in Inazuma, the shine is bigger than you remember. There is an enormous marble statue of you, cradling Teyvat in your hands with your eyes closed while sitting on the cement block. In front of the statue are offerings made to you. From flowers to food, Mora, alcohol, and many more things you could barely make out.

“What’s that?” Diluc asks, reaching for the pink envelope that is decorated with heart and flower stickers.

Kaeya takes the envelope from Diluc’s hands, ignoring the glare the redhead shot in his direction. Kaeya is about to open the envelope, but he stops himself. Kaeya walks over to where you’re standing and hands you the letter. You look at Kaeya curiously, grab the pink envelope from Kaeya’s hands and begin to open the envelope with care.

“I was going to have a look at it, but it wouldn’t be right for me to open a letter that is written for our dear creator,” says Kaeya, giving you a charming smile.

You smile at Kaeya and continue to open the envelope. “How generous of you, Kaeya,” you say.

Everyone, including yourself, assumed there was a prayer written in the envelope. The twenty-five men back up to give you some privacy to read the letter once you pull out a pink piece of paper. Your eyes skim the letter, and your facial expression quickly morphs from curious to horrified. A paper falls from the envelope, landing on the ground in front of you.

“Oh? What’s this?” Albedo asks, picking the paper off the ground and flipping it over.

The men crowd around Albedo to look at the paper in Albedo’s grasp. You cover your mouth with your left hand and crush the letter in the other. The men all equally let out gasps and quickly looked away from the scandalous image. You let out a shaky breath, giving the men a fake smile.

“You know, I knew I have devoted worshippers, but this person takes it to the next level,” you say, letting your balled-up fist fall at your side. “Judging by your reactions, I don’t even want to look at whatever you all have witnessed.”

Pantalone shakes his head. “You don’t want to see it, Your Grace. For the sake of your sanity, it’s best you never glance at that picture,” Pantalone says.

“I know we arrived at the shrine not too long ago, but I think it's best we leave the shrine to inform the Raiden Shogun of this situation,” Pierro says gruffly.

You press your lips into a thin line and nod. You and the men are about to leave the shrine when all twenty-six of you hear rapid footsteps approaching the shrine. Diluc snatches the letter from the ground along with the paper from Albedo’s grasp and burns it. You watch the letter and paper disintegrate into ashes, pieces of the paper and letter fluttering to the ground.

The footsteps get louder and louder, and before you all know it, the owner of those footsteps stops a few feet away from where you and the men are standing. The owner of the footsteps lets out a loud yet strained gasp, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Oh my gosh! Your Grace! You’re really here!” A man whispers, covering his mouth with his shaky hands in awe.

You smile at the man. “Indeed, I am! I was stopping by the shrine to check on its condition,” you say.

The man looks starstruck, his entire being trembling with excitement and anxiousness. You and the men trade looks with each other, unsure of what else to say other than act polite. This man could be stopping by the shrine to pay his respects, but given the look in his eyes, the feeling of dread looms over you. The man rushes toward you, but Capitano and Pierro immediately block him from getting toward you while the other men surround you in a large yet tight circle.

“You dare to get close to our creator?” Dottore demands, glaring at the man behind his mask.

The Inazuman man glares at Dottore with pure hatred. “I am our creator’s most devoted follower! How dare you try to get in between them and me!” The Inazuman man exclaims.

You squeeze your hand around the pink envelope, crushing it in your grasp. The envelope crinkling under your grip grabs the man’s attention. His eyes fall on your hands, his eyes widen, and he looks at you in shock and in awe. The Inazuman man seems almost giddy.

The man whispers, “You’ve read my letter, Your Grace? A-And you’ve seen the….”

Childe’s expression sours, his hands itching to draw out his weapon. “You’re the one that wrote that letter and sent that picture?” Childe demands, his hands trembling with anger.

You look at Childe quizzically. “What was the picture?” You whisper.

Dainsleif shakes his head. “It’s best you don’t know, Your Grace. You will be revolted if you were to know what the picture contained,” Dainsleif says, looking at the Inazuman man with disgust.

Realization dawns on the Inazuman man; the look of horror and rage flashes across his face. His face pinches up with anger, his lips scrunch in a thin line, and his eyebrows are knitted together. The Inazuman man points at the men surrounding you.

“How dare you all look at the letter and picture I sent to my creator! It’s an invasion of my privacy, and you not only disrespected me, but you disrespected my dearest creator!” The Inazuman man bellows.

Zhongli’s eyes begin to glow ominously as he approaches the angry Inazuman man. Zhongli grabs the man by the collar of his shirt and yanks him forward. The two men are now face to face; the Inazuman man’s feet are dangling off the floor.

“You are the one that sent our creator an obscene image. You are the one that disrespected our creator but have the audacity to be upset?!” Zhongli hisses, tightening his grip around the man’s shirt collar.

The Inazuman man thrashes in Zhongli’s grasp and starts hurling profanities at the former Geo archon. You sigh and rub your throbbing temples, closing your eyes. Today was supposed to be an easygoing day. Yet, someone like this Inazuman man is making it hard for you all to have a relaxing day at the shrine before having lunch with Ei, Yae Miko, and Kujou Sara.

You step forward and tap Zhongli’s shoulders, grabbing the funeral consultant’s attention. “Release him. We’ll inform the Raiden Shogun about the situation, and she, or Kujou Sara, will handle the situation,” you say.

Aether huffs, glaring at the black-haired Inazuman man after Zhongli releases the man from his grasp. “I think we should go to the authorities first to report this situation before heading to the Tenshukaku for lunch,” Aether mutters.

Heizou nods. “I agree! How about you all go to Tenshukaku while I file a report. In the meantime, I will take this man to the Tenryou Commission,” Heizou says, approaching the Inazuman man and slapping handcuffs on the man’s wrists.

You nod and cross your arms over your chest. “I would hate for it to turn out this way, but it seems like we have no other choice,” you murmur. You turn to Heizou and place your hand on his shoulder. “Please try to return to me as fast as possible,” you say.

Heizou’s eyes widen with surprise, and he nods, trying to act like your words had no impact on him at all. Heizou grabs the man and pulls him out of the shrine, with a few men (Childe, Zhongli, Al Haitham, Pierro, Capitano, Xiao, Ayato, and Diluc) following him. After they left, Thoma volunteered to be the one to take you to the Tenshukaku.

Here you are, sitting across from Ei, Yae Miko, and Kujou Sara. You have a porcelain teacup in your hands, lightly tapping your fingers on the cup nervously. The men stands close behind your seat, eyes scanning the Tenshukaku. Ei raises her eyebrows at the men behind you before turning to look at you.

“Your Grace?” Ei asks softly.

You pull your eyes away from your teacup and make eye contact with the electro archon. Ei smiles at you worriedly and places her cup down on the saucer.

“Yes, Ei?” You murmur.

Ei gazes at you intently, leaning back in her seat and crossing her right leg over her left leg. The electro archon studies you for a moment, not saying anything. You look skittish and frazzled, and it worries the three women sitting across from you.

Yae Miko clears her throat. “Are you alright? If you’re not feeling well, we can always have lunch next time,” says Yae Miko.

You shake your head. “No, no! I’m feeling alright! I…” you trail off, taking in a deep breath.

You turn to look at the men behind you. They all stare back at you worriedly, unsure whether they should speak on your behalf or not.

You clear your throat. “You may have noticed that some of my protectors are not present with us at the moment. That is because they have some businesses to deal with,” you say, tracing the small intricate designs on the teacup with your index finger.

Kujou Sara sits up straight. “Did something happen, Your Grace?” Kujou Sara asks stiffly, her eyebrows furrowing.

The doors to the Tenshukaku open, and the nine men walk into the building. A wave of relief washes over you. You let out a long exhale and get up from your seat. You walk toward the nine men, with the other men following behind. You stop in your tracks when you see blood splatters on the men’s clothes and their faces.

You point at them. “Why is there blood on your clothes?” You ask.

Childe smiles at you and pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his cheek on your head while sighing with contentment. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore, Your Grace. We made sure he won’t be bothering you anymore,” Childe says, pulling away from the hug.

Tighnari looks at Childe skeptically. “You guys didn’t kill him, did you?” Tighnari asks cautiously.

“Of course not! We taught him a lesson first before turning him to the Tenryou Commissions,” Al Haitham replies, crossing his arms over his chest while scratching the dried blood off his right shoulder.

Yae Miko raises her eyebrows and stands by your side with Ei and Kujou Sara. “He? Tenryou Commission? Did something happen on your way to the Tenshukaku?” Asked Yae Miko. She crosses her arms over her chest and taps her bicep with her perfectly manicured fingers.

Gorou laughs nervously and turns to look at you. You nod, signaling for Gorou to explain to the three women what had happened before your arrival at the Tenshukaku. Before Gorou could explain the situation, Ei raised her hand to stop Gorou.

Ei gestures to the table where you all were before the nine men arrived at the Tenshukaku. “Let’s talk over lunch. You haven’t touched your food since your arrival,” Ei says.

You nod and follow after the electro archon with the men following close behind you. You sit in your seat and reach for the chopsticks, stirring your noodles and sighing. Ei looks at Gorou and gestures for Gorou to start explaining what had happened on your way to your shrine before going to the Tenshukaku to meet up with the three women for lunch. After explaining what happened to Kujou Sara, Ei, and Yae Miko, Ei shakes her head with distaste.

“I will head over to the Tenryou Commission right now to deal with him,” Kujou Sara declares, her hands clenching into tight fists at her sides.

Diluc shakes his head. “There’s no need to do that. We have already taken care of him,” Diluc says.

Yae Miko looks at Diluc with amusement. “Oh? And what are you implying?” She asks, leaning back in her seat and raising her eyebrows at the redhead wine tycoon standing behind you.

Pierro huffs behind you, glaring at the kitsune sitting across from you. “That is none of your concern. We have handled this situation already,” the first Harbinger interjects, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ei narrows her eyes at Pierro and sighs. Ei looks at you, who’s too busy eating the noodles in front of you while trying to drown out the conversation around you. Ei gets up from her seat and walks around the table, kneeling before you. You’re pulled from your thoughts when the electro archon places a gentle hand over yours.

Ei says in a soft tone, “Your Grace, I understand your,” she looks over at the group of men behind you, “bodyguards are here to protect you and can handle the situation, but this happened in my nation. As the ruler and archon of Inazuma, please, let me handle it,” Ei pleads.

Capitano sighs and points his thumb over in Heizou’s direction. “If you want to talk about the situation, you must go to Shikanoin Heizou for information. After all, he is the one that turned this Inazuman man to the Tenryou Commission,” Capitano says.

Heizou nods his head stiffly. Ei looks at the men, then at you before sighing quietly. She nods and stands, walking back to her seat and sitting between Yae Miko and Kujou Sara. Lunch proceeded, and the tension wasn’t at an all-time high like how you would expect it to be after Gorou explained to the three women what had happened.

By the time lunch ended, you were drained and ready to go home and relax. You bid the three women goodbyes before leaving the Tenshukaku. Before leaving the Tenshukaku, Kujou Sara quickly informs Heizou that she will need to see him and the other men for information on the strange Inazuman man the next day.

“How are you feeling, [Y/N]? It’s been a long day for you, and you had to deal with someone as atrocious as that Inazuman man,” Ayato says, guiding you into the estate.

You give Ayato a small smile, rest your head on his arms, and close your eyes. “I’m feeling drained, Ayato. I need to relax in the bathhouse to get my mind off what happened today and what the letter contained,” you shivered.

“We’ll get the bathhouse and hotspring ready for you,” Thoma says, dragging Itto and the other men with him.

Itto’s eyes widen. “What?! I wanted to stay with [Y/N]!” Itto protests, groaning loudly while letting Thoma drag him away from you.

While you’re getting ready to go to the bathhouse in your bedroom, the men are downstairs, speaking to Heizou and the other eight men that went with him to the Tenryou Commission. Gorou sits on the armrest of the couch, his arms crossed over his midriff.

“You nine are covered in blood. Did you guys kill that lunatic?” Kaveh asks, raising his eyebrows at the nine men that stand before him and the others.

Xiao shakes his head. “We didn’t kill him, but we did teach him a lesson and made sure he wouldn’t do such a thing ever again,” replies Xiao.

“Why didn’t you kill him? If we don’t get rid of him, he will continue what he’s been doing if he recovers,” Dottore huffs, rolling his eyes underneath his mask.

Dainsleif frowns at Dottore and pinches the bridge of his nose. “If we got rid of him, then [Y/N] will know. We only kept him alive so he could rot in prison for his crimes. People like him don’t deserve an easy way out of their crimes,” Dainsleif interjects.

The men fall silent when they hear your bedroom door open. You trot down the stairs and tighten the robe's rope, giving the men a small smile. You look exhausted, but the warm glow and tiny sparkles around you don’t dim. Despite being in your presence every day, you never cease to make them feel breathless with your presence and warm smile.

Baizhu quickly approaches you. “How are you feeling, [Y/N]? You won’t be at the bathhouse for too long now, are you?” Baizhu asks, looking at you worriedly.

“I’m feeling a little bit better! I think relaxing in the bathhouse for an hour would make me feel better. Thank you for asking!” You reply, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Kaeya raises his hand. “Would you be okay with us standing outside the bathhouse to make sure no one sneaks in while you’re taking a dip in the hotspring?” Kaeya asks.

You shake your head. “I don’t mind!” you say, walking toward the door and slipping your sandals on. “Besides, I feel safe with all of you. None of you have posed a threat to me, nor have any of you made me feel uncomfortable,” you said, turning to look at the men with a faint smile on your face.

Gorou looks at you with stars in his eyes. “You feel safe with us?” Gorou whispers, his tail wagging behind him.

“Of course I do! You all kept me safe while I was in Teyvat. You all guided me to places I needed to go when I didn’t have glasses. You all made sure to protect me from the people who are my most devoted follower,” you say shyly.

Scaramouche clears his throat, looks away, and crosses his arms over his chest with a huff of breath. “Of course, we’ll protect you! What kind of protectors and friends would we be if we didn’t protect you at all costs?” Scaramoche asks, his cheeks turning crimson red.

Kazuha approaches you, gently grabs your hand, and presses a kiss on your knuckles. “We will always protect our dearest creator,” Kazuha says softly.

The men nod, approaching you and stopping near you and Kazuha.

“We are devoted to you, and we’ll do anything to protect our dear creator,” Albedo adds.

Pantalone adds, “Even if it means we have to kill someone to protect you. We’ll make sure that no one touches a single hair on your head, Your Grace.”

The men collectively bow to you with their right hand over their chest, catching you off guard. You’re very well aware of their dedication and loyalty to you, and you appreciate them very much. There’s not a time when you wish you were alone and could walk around Teyvat on your own. Their presence, friendship, and guidance mean everything to you, and you’re truly grateful for each of them. You’re grateful for them just as much as they are grateful for you, their dear creator.

Note: I kind of want to make a new Isekai'd!Reader series, except it's a chaptered fic rather than a collection of one-shots like the current ongoing Isekai'd!Reader series. But instead of posting the entire chapters on Tumblr, I'll be posting one chapter/preview on Tumblr and the rest of the story will be on AO3, but I'm not entirely sure. I'm still thinking about it. It's just a floating thought in my head, idk when I'll make it a thing. Anyway, I will be making my AO3 fics available for nonregistered users to view today (once I have updated). It's been almost two months, I think? To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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