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ja3yun · 9 days

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The Doll House | Sim Jaeyun

doll!jake x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), subby!jake, oral (m. rec), creampie, slight throat fucking, whimpering and whining, pet names (baby doll, pup), begging, anything else lmk! wc: 7.7k synopsis: it's your first week at your new job and you make a shocking revelation that puts your world in a spin and lets you experience something you never knew was possible masterlist | sunghoon a/n: hi! this is the first part of a 4-part series! again, i need to thank the requester for this because i am having so much fun writing it <3 the plot and everything will be gradually laced within each chapter so, while they can stand alone, it's best to read them all. thank you for everything and as always, likes, reblogs, feeback is all welcome!

p.s, please read the intro it sets up the whole story so you guys know how y/n got there and who soonyeol is.

You've been inside this home for exactly 42 hours and 51 minutes and surprisingly nothing significant has happened.

The silence surrounding the mansion is unexpectedly comforting, providing a much-needed respite from the hectic city life you've despised. The constant noise - whether it's the cries of babies, the grumbles of angry men, or the blasting car horns powered by thoughtless road rage - has progressively worn on your tolerance. No one talks about how exhausting it all is.

Maybe this is why people go on holiday, you wonder. Even though you're here for work, there's a sense of relaxation in the air that leaves you feeling peaceful.

Before Soonyeol went on her ominous business trip, she left you a binder full of strict instructions on how to mind her house. It’s packed to the brim with dos and don'ts such as; cooking exactly 4 meals for the dolls at 5.30pm, placing them around the dining table, and never entering their rooms unless transporting them to their recreational activities.

Each doll had their own rigorous routine, with some reading, some playing the guitar, and so on. Soonyeol made it clear that sticking to these routines is a must, which included the difficult chore of physically changing the towering dolls in the morning and before bed. They weren’t exactly hollow or porcelain, they were super realistic, their skin had some form of heat to it, and they had some weight to them but not as heavy as they first appeared. You had asked Soonyeol what they were made of but she brushed your question off, leaving you even more curious, the only conclusion you could come up with was sandbags or clay.

Currently, you are in the kitchen, cooking up a meal that none of them will touch. Of course, you didn’t expect them to chow down on your homemade lasagna considering they couldn’t even move their mouths, but seeing everything laid out and untouched after you give them exactly 35 minutes to eat (a rule in that godforsaken binder), it fills you with a sense of unease.

Within the mansion's walls, time seems to grind to a halt unless you make it move, you as the sole animate presence amidst the silence.

You bring the plated food into the dining room, placing a dish in front of each doll. Despite the absurdity of the situation, you play along dutifully, conscious of Mia's warning that the dolls may be rigged with hidden cameras. To be fair, their eyes do seem to follow you, or perhaps that was just your imagination.

“This is such a waste of food,” you scoff, placing the last plate down to the doll with freckles on his face who is labelled in the binder as Sunghoon. You can’t help but think about all the food that is being wasted when there are people still relying on food banks, it makes you bubble with anger, yet, you’re the one doing it. You could easily just not feed them and just pretend to Soonyeol you did, but again, the eyes that surround the castle could be the difference between you keeping this job and going back home with nothing.

Soonyeol could easily fire you if it got back to her you starved her precious babies while she was gone, and that £5,000 is enough money to get you by while you look for another job, so you’ll do as you’re told for now.

With a resigned sigh, you wipe your hands on your apron and offer a forced smile to the lifeless dolls, "Enjoy," you mutter sarcastically, before turning on your heel and retreating from the room, leaving them to their silent feast.

“Thank you!”

The words catch you off guard, freezing you mid-step. Did you actually just hear that? Slowly, you spin on your heel, astonishment written over your face. There they sit, precisely as you left them, their expressions the same as before. Yet, undoubtedly, the voice came from their direction.

Narrowing your eyes in suspicion, you examine them closely, your fingers poking Sunghoon’s shoulder to try and elicit any response, but one never comes.

You could have sworn you heard a voice, a soft accent drifting into your ears. It’s not like it could have been the TV or radio, Soonyeol was lacking in the entertainment department, opting for more classic ways to entertain herself like board games and books.

"This place is making me lose my mind," you scoff, disbelief mingling with a nervous laugh. You are officially losing the plot, thinking the dolls can suddenly speak. What’s next, they’ll suddenly get up and help you with the dishes?

Maybe you just need to go for a walk around the mansion, touch some grass or whatever. Your mind needs some nature to set itself straight. With a final incredulous glance at the dolls, you shake your head, dismissing your fanciful worries.

Stepping into the garden, you're greeted by the warmth of the summer sun kissing your skin. The sprawling lawn stretches for acres, overgrown yet hinting at hidden beauty beneath the tangled vines and moss-covered statues.

The pathway is clear, giving you a chance to wander further into the field. With some TLC and a green thumb, you ponder whether you could turn this landscape into a true garden, it’s not like there is much else to do, but would Soonyeol be okay with that? Everything else in this house is seemingly stuck in a different century; the large gold-framed portraits, the scatter of porcelain dolls that look like something straight from a horror movie, and the furnishings scream Renaissance. Maybe she prefers it that way.

You are perplexed by the mystery surrounding Soonyeol and her isolated living. A lack of information about her and this home has you grasping at straws. The mansion has no internet or even a good phone service which raises your suspicions about her more. There is only a landline phone that is set to make local calls. All you've learned from this information is why she resorted to placing a job advertisement in the newspaper.

Questions swirl in your mind. Why choose such isolation? Living alone, devoid of company or modern comforts, seems unimaginable. Two months might be tolerable, but for someone to endure years in solitude, it's perplexing. But then again, who are you to judge? She might prefer her own company and God knows there must be a lot less drama.

Lost in thought, you reach out to touch a thorn from a withered rosebush, only to recoil in pain as it pricks your index finger, "Shit!" you shout, instinctively sucking on the wound as blood wells up. Why you felt driven to touch such an obviously dangerous plant escapes you completely.

Sulking back inside the house, you walk directly to the kitchen, the sight of familiar surroundings provides some consolation as you go towards the sink, your injured finger throbbing with each step. Who knew a thorn could cause so much damage?

You reach for the basin and turn on the cold tap, hoping for a little relief. As chilled water falls over your wound, you sigh with relief, the coolness relieving the pain immensely, with a sudden sensation of peace flowing over you.

The clock's chime breaks through the quiet, jolting you back into reality. It's 6pm so it's time to tend to the dolls again. You reach to get a plaster from the first aid kit, only to find it empty except for a single bandage and some foil blankets. Panic sets in as you examine the seriousness of your bleeding finger; it’s a neverending flow of crimson which only makes you pout, sucking on it once again.

Desperately searching the kitchen cupboards, you find bits of kitchen roll and sellotape. It's not ideal, but you have no other choice. You gently wrap the kitchen roll around your wound, securing it with sticky tape. The improvised dressing will have to suffice; the thought of spilling your blood on Soonyeol's cherished dolls sends chills down your spine. You don't want to think about what she would do.

Stepping into the dining room, you're greeted by the familiar sight: cold food arranged neatly before the four unyielding dolls. Their impassive stares seem to pierce through you, sending a chill down your spine.

With a theatrical pout and arms crossed, you address the silent company, "Didn't quite hit the mark with my culinary masterpiece, huh?" you jest, met only with the silence of inanimate figures. Chuckling to yourself, you gather the untouched plates onto the cart, contemplating a pragmatic solution, "Well, I suppose I could just freeze these and give them to you tomorrow," you quip. Soonyeol said to feed them, she didn’t say it couldn't be the same meal over and over again.

After clearing up the dining hall and putting the meals in the freezer, you make your way to retrieve the rusty wheelchair you are convinced will give you tetanus from the hallway closet. It’s the easiest way to transport the boys from A to B, and you daren’t carry them anywhere in case you drop and smash them.

As you unfold the chair, a creak reverberates from behind you, causing your muscles to tense involuntarily. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as a chill courses through your veins. While the old house has its usual symphony of creaks and groans, this sound feels different, more sinister, as if someone - or something - is lurking in the shadows.

“Hello?” you say whispering yet not daring to look behind you. If you have learned anything from the multitude of horror movies you’ve watched over the tears, it’s that as soon as you look back, all shit breaks loose.

You stand there with your heart pounding in your chest and you scold yourself inwardly for succumbing to irrational fear, "Come on, Y/N, pull yourself together," you mutter, attempting to rally your nerves. But the silence that follows your whispered reassurance only amplifies the unease settling in the pit of your stomach.

With a resigned sigh, you steel yourself for whatever may lie behind you, “Fuck, Y/N, just turn around. If you’re going to die, you might as well get it over with,” you chide yourself, voice tinged with frustration.

Thinking it’s best to just face whatever your demise is, you swiftly turn around, half-expecting to come face-to-face with some unseen terror. Yet, all that greets you is the empty hallway, bathed in the dim glow of the flickering lights. There's no sign of an intruder, no lurking threat—just the same mundane surroundings you've grown accustomed to.

You never thought you’d think this, but you’re happy to see the tiny collector dolls that line the hallway.

A mixture of relief and embarrassment floods over you as you realize the absurdity of your fears. "God, I'm losing it," you mutter, a manic laugh bubbling up from deep within. With a self-deprecating shake of your head, you lightly slap your forehead with the base of your palm, chastising yourself for letting your imagination run wild.

First, the talking dolls, now this unfounded paranoia—it's becoming increasingly clear that the isolation of this mansion is taking its toll on your sanity.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you shake off the lingering unease and embarrassment to focus on your duties.

With a determined stride, you make your way back to the dining room, the memory of your brief bout of hysteria fading into the recesses of your mind. You push the wheelchair over to the table to retrieve one of the dolls, however, a glint of blue catches your eye.

A plaster - suddenly, inexplicably there, resting in front of the doll named Jongseong.

Your brow furrows in confusion, disbelief coursing through you. "How... was that there the whole time?" you mutter, disbelief colouring your tone as you glance between your injured finger and the God-sent plaster.

With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, you reach out to pick up the plaster, examining it closely as if searching for any sign of trickery. But it appears to be nothing more than an ordinary adhesive plaster.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," you mutter to yourself, unable to suppress a nervous chuckle. The rational part of your mind insists there must be a logical explanation for the plaster's sudden appearance, but logic seems to have taken a backseat in this peculiar mansion.

Surely you would have noticed it on the table when you were serving the food…right?

Deciding to set aside your questions for the moment, you carefully retrieve the plaster and apply it to your injured finger, the soothing sensation providing a small measure of comfort.

As you finish tending to your wound, you cast a wary glance at the dolls, half-expecting them to spring to life and offer an explanation. But they remain as silent and motionless as ever, their enigmatic presence only adding to the mystery of this place.

With a resigned sigh, you focus once again on getting the dolls to their rooms. Maybe if they’re out of your sight, you’ll stop conjuring up these ridiculous notions that are swirling in your mind.

“C’mon Jaeyun, let’s get you to bed,” you say softly as you pick him up with a strong heave. The weight of him in your arms is a humbling realisation that you need to start going to the gym more because lifting a doll shouldn’t be this taxing.

Plonking him onto the wheelchair, you begin to make your way to his room. The corridors grow longer each time you make the journey to their respective bedrooms and with the house being the size that it is, transporting them is the equivalent of taking a quick nip to your big Tesco and back.

Finally reaching Jaeyun's room, you turn the ornate handle and push the wheelchair inside. The room is bathed in a soft, amber glow, casting a warm hue over the plush furnishings and intricate decor. With careful precision, you guide Jaeyun onto the bed, taking a moment to study his features up close.

The doll's face, once unsettling in its hyper-realistic detail, now holds a curious fascination. Despite the initial unease you felt in their presence, you can't help but admire the craftsmanship that went into their creation.

Jaeyun's eyes, a rich shade of brown, hold a mesmerising depth that seems to draw you in and they glimmer with an almost golden hue when touched by sunlight, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to his already captivating features. His lips, full and luscious and they evoke sense of envy into you, marvelling at their perfection. His nose, a graceful arc that sits harmoniously amidst his features, only adds to the beauty.

With gentle admiration, you touch his bottom lip with your thumb, amazed at its softness. If Jaeyun were a living, breathing being, you can't help but imagine how irresistible those lips would be, how you would find any excuse to steal a kiss. The feel of his lip beneath your thumb is uncannily real, its texture mirroring your own, and as you release it, it springs back into place as if alive.

Your eyes dart over his face, drinking him in as you fix his long, dark hair, “You’re so beautiful,” you whisper, the words leave your lips almost unintentionally, spoken in peaceful tones as if frightened to disrupt the calm tranquillity of the moment.

“Thank you.”

Your entire body goes rigid as you hear the same words from the dining table, mirroring the exact accent you had heard before. The hand that had been gently brushing aside the stray strand of hair now drops to your side, your eyes fixed on Jaeyun's mouth as it forms into a bright smile.

As if gasping for air, you stare at him in disbelief, pointing a trembling finger in his direction. "Y-you just spoke!" you manage to exclaim, your words choked with bated breaths. Panic threatens to engulf you as you try to understsnd what is happening.

Your mind races, grasping for something, anything to hold onto as the world spins around you but there's nothing, and your body betrays you, collapsing to the ground in a desperate attempt to escape the surreal nightmare unfolding before you.

With wide, terrified eyes, you watch as Jaeyun moves slightly, preparing yourself for the inevitable scream that threatens to tear from your throat. But before you can utter a sound, he rushes towards you with a look of panic etched on his features.

Jaeyun's eyes are filled with concern as he gazes down at you, his hand covering your mouth to stifle any outcry. With a gentle yet urgent expression, he leans in closer, his lips forming almost silent words as he implores you to remain quiet, “Please. Shhh, I’m sorry!” he says with urgency, trying to stop you from bellowing out and causing alarm.

Your chest rises and falls with the rapid beat of your heart, your head suddenly feels faint and conflicting emotions wash over you. Fear, confusion, disbelief - all vie for dominance as you struggle to make sense of the impossible situation unfolding before you.

With wide, frightened eyes, you stare up at Jaeyun, searching his face for any sign of explanation or reassurance. But all you find is the same look of concern mirrored in his gaze, a silent plea for understanding.

“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you,” he utters, his body now relaxing as he feels your mouth close under his palm, “If I take my hand away, please don’t scream, okay?”

His words are filled with panic, a frantic attempt to prevent more concern. When you look into his eyes, you can sense the sincerity in his plea, a glimpse of humanity you didn't think was possible.

For a moment, the world seems to stand still, the air thick with tension and uncertainty on both of your parts. But then, with a shaky breath, you nod in silent acquiescence, willing yourself to trust the doll before you.

Jaeyun’s hand slowly withdraws from your mouth but is still armed in case you fall through on your promise to stay quiet. Once he's satisfied that you won't scream, Jaeyun rises to his feet, offering you a shaky hand. You accept, noting the slight tremor in his grip, evidence that he's just as affected by this inexplicable turn of events as you are.

Standing before him, you can't shake the feeling of disbelief that washes over you. None of this makes sense - talking dolls, moving on their own accord - it's all so implausible, so surreal. And yet, here you are, faced with the undeniable reality of Jaeyun's existence.

"What are you?" you ask tentatively, withdrawing your hand from his as you study him intently, searching for any clues to unravel the mystery.

Jaeyun tilts his head in confusion, his expression mirroring your own bewilderment. "I'm a doll, you know that," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Yes, but how are you moving? How are you speaking? Are you possessed? Alive? Am I dreaming this?" you barrage him with questions, your mind racing with a million possibilities, each more absurd than the last.

“I’m Sim Jaeyun, manufactured in 2002,” Jaeyun says as though it’s so obvious, which to his defence, it is - the stamp on his back that you’ve caught sight of while changing him is proof, "I'm the model made for Australia. G'day mate!" he adds, attempting to inject some levity into the conversation with an exaggerated Australian accent. But his efforts fall flat in the face of your mounting terror and confusion.

"I don't understand," you whisper, your voice trembling with uncertainty, "How is this possible?"

Jaeyun's expression softens, sympathy flickering in his eyes as he meets your gaze, "I wish I had all the answers," he admits, his voice gentle yet tinged with resignation, "But the truth is, even I don't fully understand what's happening to me. I ended up here one day. The others just tell me not to ask questions.”

As Jaeyun's words sink in, a surge of disbelief sweeps over you, threatening to overwhelm you in a sea of bewilderment and despair, "Others? You mean..."

"My brothers, the ones you've been looking after for Soonyeol," Jaeyun says, his voice calm.

The realisation hits you like a tonne of bricks: all four dolls, like Jaeyun, are somehow alive. You've spent the last two days living under the same roof as these living dolls, entirely oblivious of their true selves. The idea of it sends shivers down your spine, and a dreadful feeling rises in the pit of your stomach.

Every creak in the floorboards, every echo in the halls - you had chalked them up to the ageing mansion itself. But now, you realise that they were caused by these living dolls moving about, silently watching and listening to your every move.

You contemplate the idea that you're going insane because the stress and isolation of the mansion have finally taken their toll on your sanity. But deep down, you know that this is far too real to be a figment of your imagination.

Sensing your distress, Jaeyun guides you to sit beside him on the bed, his touch gentle yet strangely disconcerting. A doll is offering you comfort while your mind is in a whirlwind of emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. In what world is any of this normal?

His thumb strokes the back of your hand as you sit in silence. A small smile creeps on his face and a blush somehow paints itself on the apples of his cheeks as he remembers your earlier comments.

“You think I’m beautiful?” he asks gently, drawing you back into reality from the maze of your mind.

“What?”

"You said I was beautiful," he repeats, his tone gentle yet earnest, his eyes filled with a quiet joy. Jaeyun's smile widens slightly, his body shifting to fully face you.

As you finally meet his gaze, the weight of his words settles upon you, and you see just how much your earlier compliment meant to him. The twinkle in his eye reflects a depth of emotion that mirrors that of a human, his happiness evident in the way his features soften and his eyes light up with warmth. If he was beautiful before, he is otherworldly now.

“Yeah…you are,” you confess, now reciprocating his blush.

Jaeyun's hand gently cups your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine and you can't help but feel something blossom within you. His palm, slightly cool against your flushed skin, serves as a reminder of the surreal reality in which you find yourself.

Jaeyun's lips suddenly meet yours, enveloping you with his gentle kiss. Touching his lips earlier paled in comparison to the sensation of his soft, plump mouth moving against yours, and it sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through your veins; for a fleeting moment, you allow yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment.

But as reality crashes back down upon you, the weight of what you're doing comes crashing down.

This is a doll, not a real person.

You push Jaeyun away and your mind suddenly clears, “What are you doing, Jaeyun?” you ask both perplexed by his actions and a little disgruntled by yours.

His wide eyes only serve to make you feel guilty, there’s a tinge of hurt in them along with confusion. His hand removes itself from your face, leaving your cheek cold and craving his touch again.

"Soonyeol says I should kiss when I want to show my appreciation," Jaeyun explains, his voice tinged with confusion and a defeated tone that tugs at your heartstrings. It's clear that he's not accustomed to being rejected like this, his owner obviously giving him what he wants.

Now that you think about it, Soonyeol must know they’re real, meaning she has relationships with these dolls. Granted, you figured that out when you were undressing them and saw they are anatomically correct, but now this is a whole new layer. She has formed connections with them that go beyond using the dolls for her pleasure.

"Isn't it cheating?" you ask, locking eyes with Jaeyun, ignoring your swift realisation of the risk. Those beautiful brown eyes seem to draw you in, inviting you to forget all reason and succumb to the burning need between you.

He shakes his head slowly, a tinge of hesitation in his eyes as he chews his lip, "No. Soonyeol shares us, which means I can be shared. It's how it works," he says, his words laced with desperation as he tries to defend his actions. He knows Soonyeol won’t see it that way, but he needs you for his own selfish pleasure; he can’t wait two months until his minder comes back.

However, the rational half of your mind perks up one last time, refusing to be influenced by Jaeyun's words, forcing you to express the painfully evident reality that lies between you, "You're a doll, Jaeyun," you say, the words thick with reality.

However, as if feeling your wavering resolve, Jaeyun's demeanour changes, his puppy-like appearance giving way to one of mischief and longing. With a sudden boldness, he comes in closer, your noses touching as your breath hits his lips.

"I'm a doll with everything you need," he says seductively, sending shivers down your spine as his luscious lips brush against yours with each syllable.

Your heart races as Jaeyun's proximity overwhelms your senses. Despite the nagging voice of reason in the back of your mind, you find yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence.

As Jaeyun leans in for another kiss, his persistence and gentle touch send a rush of heat coursing through your body. You find yourself melting into his embrace once more, unable to resist his lips on yours. His smile against your mouth fills you with something beautiful.

His hand finds your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive as he deepens the kiss, sending your senses reeling. The surreal sensation of his tongue, colder than any other person's you’ve had the pleasure to kiss, intertwining with yours only adds to the intensity of the moment.

But as the kiss grows more passionate, you feel Jaeyun's hands begin to roam, his touch becoming more urgent and insistent. The way he impatiently tugs at the hem of your t-shirt and his hips practically humping the air through desperation, heightens your own arousal.

You draw back, taking your shirt off, giving him what he wants. Jaeyun's eyes light up in delight at the sight before him, his gaze raking over your exposed skin with hunger. Without hesitation, his hand instinctively reaches out to touch you, his fingers grazing over the fabric of your bra as he seeks to explore every inch of your body.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, as he stares up at you. You understand why he’s so used to getting his way, that face of his could start wars if he asked.

With a soft smile, your fingers continuing to thread through his hair with a gentle touch, "Nothing in comparison to you," you confess, your words spoken with genuine admiration.

Jaeyun's response is a soft whimper, his body trembling slightly under your touch as he leans into your caress. It's clear that he thrives on the affection and validation you offer him, cherishing every compliment and sweet gesture. He isn’t going to take control of this situation, he wants you to lead him, to make him feel like he is yours.

And he looks so fuckable right now.

Feeling emboldened by the rush of desire coursing through your veins, you seize the opportunity to take control of the situation. With a newfound confidence, you gently push Jaeyun back onto the bed, straddling him as you hover above.

His eyes widen in surprise, a mix of anticipation and excitement flickering in their depths as he watches you with rapt attention. With a playful glint in your eyes, you lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your hands trailing down his chest and exploring every contour of his body.

Jaeyun responds eagerly, his hands roaming over your back as he returns your kiss with equal fervour. But as the heat between you intensifies, you can sense his longing for more, his desire for you palpable in every touch and caress.

You plaster on a mischievous smile and lean back slightly, teasingly tracing your fingers along the waistband of his pants. He hitches in anticipation, his eyes darkening with desire as he silently urges you to continue.

With deliberate slowness, you begin to unbutton his pants, savouring the feeling of power that courses through you with each movement. As the fabric falls away, you're met with the sight of his cock outline, his arousal evident in the way he strains against the confines of his underwear.

You lean down to press your lips against his neck, trailing soft kisses along his jawline as you whisper in his ear, "Do you want me to look after you, baby doll?"

He mewls out and nods quickly, knowing that is the only thing he needs right now. Your touch is different to Soonyeol’s, yours is filled with a new fire that you’re discovering, while Soonyeol’s is experienced and knows of Jaeyun’s wants and needs. He can’t deny that he feels even more alive than before right now.

Trailing one finger over his clothed cock, you apply pressure as you reach his tip, causing him to whine out. You aren’t typically in charge in the bedroom but you can’t deny how easy it is when Jaeyun is underneath you, silently begging for you to claim him.

You pull down his boxers, seeing his cock in a new light. Honestly, you tried not to stare at it too long when you changed him but you knew whatever Soonyeol had ordered, she ordered it with herself in mind. He was average-sized but curved to the right, meaning he could hit places some others couldn’t; even the thought made your mouth water.

There’s a desire to know how his cock is standing to attention considering there isn’t any blood in his body, but this whole situation defies logic so what’s one more question to add to the pile? All you can really think about is how good having him inside you will feel.

Grabbing his length, you begin to pump him gently, still trying to navigate how fragile he is and how far you can take this. He isn’t made of glass but you still need to be careful.

His reaction is immediate, his jaw slackening as you pick up the pace, your movements becoming more assured. Jaeyun’s legs kick slightly as his body involuntarily moves under your touch, desperate for more than you’re offering him.

Sensing his need, you lean in and give his cock a teasing lick before spitting on it, slickening the surface to make your motions even smoother. His breath hitches at the sensation, a low groan escaping his lips as he arches into your touch, craving more of the pleasure you're giving him.

With a hunger that matches his own, you release him from your grip and lean down, taking him into your mouth with a slow, deliberate motion. His gasp fills the air as you envelop him, the wet heat of your mouth sending shivers down his spine.

"Y/N..." Jaeyun's voice is barely a whisper, filled with a mix of disbelief and pleasure.

You glance up at him, meeting his gaze with a smouldering intensity before returning your focus to the task at hand. With practiced skill, you move your lips and tongue in tandem, exploring every inch of him with a fervour that leaves him trembling.

There is an urge to look after him, with each whine and whimper he screeches out in response to your tongue flicking over his tip, you want to cherish him as your own. You carefully watch his face to make sure he is enjoying himself which clearly he is, his eyes screwed shut and chest heaving despite the lack of air.

Pushing his length further into your mouth, you feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat, piercing your tonsils as they involuntarily try to swallow around him. You switch between bobbing your mouth and enveloping his whole cock down your throat, staying there for a moment as you nuzzle your nose against his lower abdomen.

His fingers thread through your hair, a silent plea for more as you continue to lavish attention on him, each suck and swirl of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Oh god, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with need. "I-I can't... I'm gonna..."

Can he cum? Like physically, is your mouth about to be filled with doll cum? You’re going to find out eventually.

But who says he can get everything he wants just at the bat of an eyelid?

You pull back slightly, your lips glistening with saliva as you gaze up at him with a wicked grin. "Not yet," you tease, your voice husky from the beating your throat has just taken, "I want to hear you beg for it.”

His eyes widen with anticipation, a need burning in their depths as he watches you, “But Soonyeol always lets me cum,” he pouts, the edges of his mouth drooping down.

“I’m not Soonyeol though, am I?” you retort, your hand stroking him again, “I can stop completely if you want?”

Jaeyun doesn’t like that idea, shaking his head manically and chanting ‘no’ as he looks at you with pleading eyes. His minder is kind, always giving him the pleasure he needs when he wants it, so this is new to him, yet, he can’t help but find some pleasure in the prolonging of his orgasm.

“Come on, baby doll, beg for it,” you murmur against his tip, looking up at him through hooded eyes as you tease the tip of his cock.

His breath catches in his throat at your words, his mind a haze of desire as he struggles to find his voice, "Please, Y/N," he gasps, his voice thick with need, "Please let me cum. I need it, I need you so bad."

The desperation in his voice and his tiny weeps send a shiver down your spine, and with a satisfied smirk, you relent, taking him fully into your mouth again.

You aren’t like this in bed but he just manages to bring out this side of you and you can’t complain about it.

As Jaeyun's fingers tangle in your hair, a shiver of anticipation courses through you, heightened by the primal instinct driving his actions. You feel the tension building in his body, his movements becoming more urgent as he approaches the brink of release.

With a final tug at your roots, he tightens, his balls drawing up as he releases into your mouth with a guttural groan of pleasure. His hips buck uncontrollably, driving himself deeper into your throat as he rides the waves of ecstasy coursing through him.

You surrender to the moment, allowing him to take control as he thrusts into your mouth, his movements are rough yet achingly intimate. Each sensation sends sparks of pleasure racing through you, mingling with the taste of him on your tongue as he spurts his essence. It’s not exactly cum, it doesn’t taste like it, but it’s filling your mouth up, some of it dripping out onto the bed below you.

And as he finally reaches the peak of his pleasure, his body trembling with the force of his release, you swallow him down, accepting him completely. You lap up the last few drops before giving a gentle kiss on his bell, smiling slightly as you relish in your work.

Jaeyun’s face exhibits one of pure bliss, his grin wide and his eyes closed. He looks so ethereal right now, your only wish is to cater to him. Soonyeol must have her hands full if she does this with all of them, no wonder she would need two months off.

Sitting up, his hands pull at your jeans, unbuttoning them with determination but you stop him, “Jaeyun, what are you doing?” you ask.

“I’m going to fuck you, is that not okay?” Jaeyun’s eyes have that spark in them just like before but more intense, like he’s bursting to the brim with happiness.

You can see the determination in Jaeyun's eyes, the fire of desire burning bright despite the recent climax. His eagerness to please you matches your own desire to cater to him, but you can't help but feel a twinge of apprehension.

"Are you not tired, Jaeyun?" you reply gently, placing a hand on his cheek to capture his attention, “I don't want to push you too far."

Jaeyun's expression softens at your words, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity, “I’m a doll, Y/N, I don’t get tired.”

Damn, maybe you should invest in one of these unalive-alive dolls with the £5,000 you’ll get from this job.

He sees your astonishment and laughs softly, his teeth on full display, “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re confused, Y/N,” his voice is back down to a whisper, his hand enclosing yours on his cheek as he nuzzles into it. Jaeyun knows how to use his charm to get what he wants but it’s significantly easier when the person he is trying to persuade wants it just as much as he does.

You find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to resist his enticement. With a shared understanding, you move in to capture his lips in yours, sealing the moment with a delicate kiss.

His hands go back to work, pulling at your jeans to take them off of your hot body. You help him out, pulling away from his mouth to undress yourself, leaving you both naked and wanting nothing more than to be entangled in one another.

“Wow,” he utters as his eyes trail your body from head to toe. His owner is beautiful but you have something about you that is sucking him in, the curve of your hips and the stretch marks on your thighs; you’re a vision he never wants to forget.

You turn scarlet as you see him staring at you, suddenly feeling less confident than before. But he quickly eases your mind as he licks his lips and pulls you into his lap, placing you to sit right on his cock, “I think you were wrong earlier,” he mutters into your shoulder as he places kisses along your chest.

“What do you mean?” Confusion lingers in your mind as you process his words, your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as you look down at him with a mixture of surprise and affection.

“When you said you weren’t as beautiful compared to me. I think you’re so wrong,” he admits in a hushed tone, hands roaming along your waist and down to your thighs, feeling every inch of you.

Leaning down, you kiss him again except this time, you grind your hips, letting his cock slide between your folds and his tip brush against your clit teasingly. The action makes you both groan out in lust, wanting nothing more than to be tangled in one another.

Jaeyun lightly slaps your ass to signal you to hover slightly, ready to dive into you. He hasn’t had sex with anyone other than Soonyeol so his eagerness is palpable, his mouth fighting a bright smile akin to a puppy.

Once you’re above him, he guides his cock to your hole and sharply pushes into you, causing you to fall forward onto his chest.

He enthusiastically bucks his hips up into you, ensuring that he is catering to every inch of your pleasure. Although he enjoys being looked after and cared for, he will always reciprocate; your enjoyment is as important to him as his own.

It's funny how different he is with you than with his owner; with you, he wants nothing more than to impress you, evident by the way he's focused on fucking into you, but with Soonyeol, he does whatever he wants to give her pleasure but there's no need to put in massive amounts of effort.

You feel his dick pressing deep into you, that curve that you noticed earlier is now doing wonders against your walls. Meeting his thrusts, you bounce on him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pick up your pace.

The sound of your skin slapping against Jaeyun is like music to his ears, the smile he was trying to fight off now splitting his face, the joy of fucking you so obvious from his expression. He wants to do this forever.

Looking down, you see him lost in glee and lust as he continues to thrust up into you at a fast pace, his gaze down at where you’re pussy is sucking him in. Gently, you lift his face to look at you, his wide gleaming eyes now staring into yours.

“You’re doing so good, pup,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. He feels his non-existant heart soar at your words, his face radiant with your praise. And you weren’t just saying it, he truly was sensational, probably the best you’ve had in a long time.

Jaeyun takes your words of appraisal and uses them to fuck into you harder, his mouth now attached to your nipple and he sucks and licks at it like a man starved.

You can feel that familiar coil in your stomach that signifies you’re close to release. Snaking your hand down to your clit you begin to rub circles on it quickly, but as soon as Jaeyun notices, he nudges your hand away and takes care of it himself, rubbing and pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger.

Throwing your head back, your breathing stops momentarily as you push out your orgasm, your wetness coating your inner thighs and his cock as you cum harshly around him, “Jaeyun, fuck!” you cry, hands gripping any part of Jaeyun they can.

Jaeyun shudders as you clench around him, spilling himself into your heat along with you. He rubs his face desperately against your tits, relishing in the feeling of you against him. He has this aching need to be as close to you as possible.

Both of you are in complete and utter bliss as you hold one another, coming down from your highs.

As Jaeyun peppers open-mouthed kisses along your neck, he savours the sensation of your heartbeat, saddened slightly by his lack of. If he had one, he wished you could hear how loudly it was beating from pure satisfaction and tenderness.

"That was incredible, Y/N," he murmurs against the curve of your nape, his smile pressing warmly against your skin.

You tenderly kiss the top of his head and linger there for a moment, your fingers tracing light strokes along his back. But as the clock chimes once again, signalling the passage of time, reality intrudes upon your blissful moment.

"Fuck, I need to get the others to bed," you say regretfully, reluctantly withdrawing yourself from Jaeyun's embrace. The air feels colder now that night is settling in, and the absence of his touch leaves you longing for his warmth.

Jaeyun watches you with a mixture of understanding and longing as you get dressed, his gaze following your movements with a hint of reluctance, he wants you to stay beside him the way Soonyeol does, to look after him a little longer.

Before you part ways, Jaeyun reaches out to gently grasp your hand, "Y/N," he begins, his voice soft yet filled with urgency, "Please, don't tell the others. We aren’t supposed to tell you, and they already think I’m incapable of keeping a secret,” he says disheartened, the last sentence laced with vulnerability.

His plea catches you off guard, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. Kneeling beside the bed, you take his hand into yours and kiss it softly, “I promise, I will not tell anyone, okay?” you reassure him, punctuating your sentiment with a smile, “This stays between us.”

It’s a promise not only to him but also to yourself. At the end of the day, no matter how good it was, you fucked a doll - an alive one, but still a doll.

With a grateful smile, Jaeyun leans in to press a gentle kiss against your lips, a silent gesture of gratitude for your understanding, “Thank you, Y/N. This won’t be the last time, will it?” he asks tentatively, trying to seek out how you might feel about the entirety of the situation.

You weigh up the question in your mind. On one hand, you would have someone to talk to and indulge in, but on the other, it’s risky and if Soonyeol found out, you know there would be hell to pay.

“Let’s just see how it goes, pup,” you say vaguely, kissing his forehead one more time.

This mansion is filled with secrets that you need to uncover, and you have two months to do it.

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#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #jake smut #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #aj writes #enhypen fic #the doll house

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dewdropdinosaur · 1 month

Text

Green May Be His Color

ALASTOR x READER

Summary: Alastor has a crush on you and gets...shall we say - possessive.

Warnings: Make-out scene and implied smut. Rating PG-13

For the dearest @anon-of-the-void

REQUESTS OPEN

In the bustling underworld of Hell, where demons and overlords roamed freely and the souls of the damned wander, there existed a peculiar yet charming figure known as Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon. With his toothy grin, a penchant for chaos and macabre humor, he was a force not to be trifled with. Except by one.

Amidst his devilish and intimidating face, there lay a side and secrets only known to one other: Rosie, a fellow overlord and Alastor’s best and one of few friends. Rosie was well-acquainted with the inner workings of Alastor's mind, particularly his peculiar fascination with a certain dead mortal soul named Y/N. Y/N was unlike any other sinner, with a charm that transcended the boundaries of Hell itself. She had caught Alastor's attention with her old fashioned wit and grace, though he dared not confess his infatuation with the cannibal town resident.

Little did Alastor know, his affections were not as clandestine as he believed. With mischief gleaming in her eyes, Rosie concocted a devious plan to bring the two together.Rosie, with her sharp wit and mischievous nature, saw an opportunity for amusement. She knew of Y/N's fondness for tea and gossip, often indulging in such pastimes with Rosie herself.

One evening, as the flames danced in the infernal sky, Rosie extended an invitation to both Y/N and Alastor for a tea gathering at her lavish abode. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Rosie had already informed Alastor of the rendezvous, igniting a spark of excitement within the Radio Demon's heart.

As Y/N arrived, her presence brought a sense of warmth to the dimly lit room. She greeted Rosie with a warm smile, unaware of the scheming glint in her friend's eyes. Alastor, ever the gentleman, tipped his hat in acknowledgment, his crimson eyes alight with hidden desire at the more free flowing attire his secret paramore was wearing.

The tea flowed freely as conversation drifted from trivial matters to the depths of the underworld. Rosie, with her quick wit, subtly steered the discussion towards matters of the heart, all the while casting knowing glances at Alastor. The Radio Demon, though adept at masking his emotions, felt a tinge of unease stir within him. He knew what Rosie was playing at and was thankful for the oblivious nature of his crush.

As the evening progressed, Rosie's playful banter grew more pronounced, her words laced with feigned flirtation directed at Y/N. Alastor, unable to contain his jealousy any longer, felt the inferno of emotions raging within him. With a sharp inhale, he rose from his seat, his gaze locking onto Y/N's. Rosie, with her devilish grin, played her part to perfection. She engaged Y/N in playful banter, leaning in a tad too close, and fluttering her lashes in feigned innocence. Alastor, observing from the sidelines with a mix of amusement and jealousy, felt his heartstrings tug tighter with each passing moment.

As Rosie's antics escalated, to actually near caress and Y/N embracing her friend back - Alastor's patience wore thin. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, he stepped forward, his presence commanding the attention of both Rosie and Y/N. With a flourish of his cane, he rose and coughed loudly.

“Pardon me ladies, may I borrow you for a moment Y/N? I wish to discuss something outside.”

“Oh..of course Alastor. One moment Rosie.”

Placing their cup down on the side table, Y/N rose and followed Alastor down a long hallway till he stopped abruptly.

In a moment of recklessness born from desperation, Alastor pinned Y/N against the nearby wall - encasing them between his arms as closed the distance between them in a swift motion, his lips capturing Y/N's in a fervent kiss. The room fell silent as time seemed to stand still, the air thick with anticipation.

After the kiss, Y/N's heart raced with a mixture of surprise and warmth. She pulled back slightly, meeting Alastor's intense gaze. Each one’s breath heavily with affection and lust.

“Alastor... I... I didn't expect…”

Alastor, his crimson eyes ablaze with a possessive fervor, cut her off before she could finish. “Expectation is for the mundane, my dear. But your presence in this infernal realm has ignited a spark within me that defies logic and convention.”

“I suppose love has a way of doing that, even in Hell.”

Alastor's jaw tightened, a flicker of jealousy crossing his features as he glanced towards Rosie, who observed the scene with a knowing smirk and a low growl.

“That infernal minx... She knew exactly what she was doing, toying with my affections like that.”

Y/N chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on Alastor's arm “It's alright, Alastor. Rosie's just... playful, you know?”

Alastor's grip on his cane tightened, his frustration evident as he struggled to rein in his emotions, gritting his teeth.

“Playful or not, I won't stand for anyone else trying to claim what's rightfully mine.”

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his possessive declaration, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she whispered softly, staring at his lips.

“And what exactly do you consider to be "yours," Alastor?”

Alastor's gaze softened, the fiery intensity giving way to a tender warmth as he reached out to cup Y/N's cheek.

“You, my dear. Your laughter, your company, your... affection. All of it. It belongs to me, and me alone.”

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her eyes locked with Alastor's in a silent exchange of understanding and acceptance.

“Well then, I suppose you'll just have to keep me close, won't you?”

Alastor's lips curled into a devilish smirk, his possessiveness giving way to a newfound sense of determination as he leaned in close once more.

“Oh, you can count on it, my dear. I intend to keep you closer than anyone else ever could.” Slamming his lips back into hers, that hallway ended up being taken of its innocence.

And as Rosie listened on with a satisfied smirk, she knew that her mischief had borne fruit, paving the way for a love that defied the very fabric of their world.

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crazyhearttragedy · 4 months

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Hi there, Lovely! I have a fic suggestion/request;

Everyone seeing Mattheo Riddle as the "stereotypical big scary Slytherin", but with his girlfriend he's just a big soft baby, who wants to snuggle and be pampered with so much love

PS: are you planning on updating the masterlist?

Soft Spot - Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Word Count: 931

Warnings: None

AN: Enjoy this cute one-shot centered around the soft side of Mattheo Riddle! Thank you for the request, darling! Also, I did just update the Masterlist.

Mattheo Riddle, chilled and composed, had earned himself the title of the "stereotypical big scary Slytherin." His stern glare and intimidating figure were enough to make anyone quake in their boots. Gryffindors would shrink away from him, Ravenclaws would cautiously avoid his path, and even the Hufflepuffs eyed him with a sense of unease. Everyone assumed he was as cold as the dungeons he walked in, unable to feel warmth or compassion.

However, little did the other students know that behind his icy eyes and intimidating stature, Mattheo Riddle was just a big soft baby when it came to his girlfriend, Y/N. It was with Y/N that he showed his true colors—a gentle soul who craved snuggles and affection.

Every time they were in each other's company, Mattheo's tough facade melted away like ice beneath the sun. Y/N had the magical power to bring out his softest side, and he cherished every moment spent with her.

One lazy Sunday afternoon, Mattheo sat in the Slytherin common room, surrounded by his fellow housemates. The room buzzed with conversation and laughter as the students relaxed after a week of studying. But Mattheo's attention was solely focused on Y/N as she entered the common room, radiant and cheerful.

Mattheo's sharp eyes softened as they met Y/N's gaze, her presence melting away all his worries. He couldn't help but feel his heart flutter with warmth. Y/N confidently approached him, unfazed by the gazes of their curious fellow Slytherins.

Mattheo's arms instinctively opened wide, welcoming Y/N into a loving embrace. As she nestled into his chest, Mattheo tightened his hold, relishing their closeness. His friends watched in awe, unable to reconcile this tender scene with their preconceived notions of Mattheo Riddle.

"Y/N makes the formidable Mattheo Riddle into putty," whispered one intrigued Slytherin.

"You should see him when they're together, like a lovesick puppy," giggled another.

Mattheo, unaware of the whispers surrounding them, nuzzled his face into Y/N's hair, inhaling her familiar scent. The world faded away as he focused solely on the tenderness of the moment.

Time lost its meaning as they sat there, connected through their shared affection. Mattheo's heart thrived on this delicate intimacy, unaware of anyone else's presence. It was in Y/N's arms that he truly felt whole.

But Mattheo's desire for love wasn't limited to snuggles alone. Y/N)reveled in the moments when she could pamper him, taking care of his emotional needs. She knew just the right amount of love he needed, delicately balancing pampering and support.

One evening, Mattheo had returned from a difficult Potions class, his emotions running high from the rigorous experiments. As he entered the dormitory, hoping for a moment of respite, Y/N noticed his unease and immediately took charge.

"Y/N," Mattheo began quietly, "I had an awful day. Everything went wrong, and I just… I need someone to be there for me."

Without hesitation, Y/N guided Mattheo to his bed and sat him down, her caring eyes focused on him. She brushed a gentle hand over his cheek, wiping away the remnants of the day's struggles.

"You've had a tough day, love, but I'm here for you," Y/n whispered soothingly. "Let me take care of you."

With that, Y/N fetched a warm mug of tea, the aroma of chamomile hovering in the room. She settled beside Mattheo, wrapping him in a cozy blanket. Mattheo rested his head on Y/N's shoulder, feeling her comforting presence seep into his very being.

As they sipped tea and exchanged soft whispers, drifting into the night, Mattheo felt an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. In that moment, he realized that despite the Gryffindor bravery or Hufflepuff loyalty, it was the Slytherin cunning and ambition that often yearned for love the most.

And in the arms of the one who truly knew him, Mattheo Riddle found solace—reminding himself that there was nothing weak about being vulnerable and craving love.

#y/n #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader

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champagnefountains · 2 months

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So...Alastor went missing for a while after the extermination right? Would you be open to a story where the reader is taking care of Al after he gets back? Maybe still a little mad at him for vanishing, more worried about him being hurt...just the fall out that comes from not knowing if he was alive or not? Your first Lucifer story was wonderful!! You really have a solid foundation for this and I'm excited to see more from you!!

Aw, thank you so much! I'm really, really glad you enjoyed the Lucifer story! And omg, I love this idea...I live for angst so here's some more~!

ALASTOR - H.H.

A/N: They probably were able to rebuild the entire hotel in less than a day, but just to make it more dramatic, I made Alastor's disappearance two days long. Also, I'm not exactly too happy with the pacing here...so I apologise in advance ;-;

Word count: 2.8k+ words (I need to control myself...also unedited, sorta). Genre/other tags: Angst with good ending. OOC Alastor (I think?...sorry...). Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of blood. Talk about loss/death.

After the cancellation of this year’s extermination and Hell's victory against Heaven’s forces, Charlie and the team had spent the next couple of days repairing the damages caused. The team’s morale was as high as ever as they busied themselves reconstructing and making significant renovations to the hotel, their spirits brightening at the prospect of the potential influx of evil-doers to their establishment. There was no doubt that the hotel’s popularity had boomed, as there wasn’t a single soul in Hell that didn’t know about their contribution towards the annual culling.

However, there was one thing that had been plaguing your mind since the end of the bloodshed: Alastor's whereabouts. Everyone, including yourself, knew that the Radio-Demon was more than capable of looking after himself, considering his high-regarded reputation in all the Nine Circles. However, it’s been two days since the battle and there wasn’t a single trace of him anywhere. And as his significant other, it bothered you to no end. And it wasn’t like you could call him either – Alastor strictly refused to use a mobile phone or any electronic device, no matter how much you pried. He didn’t even make any attempts to reach out to you, whether it be from your own portable radio that he gifted you, or even a small note or letter. Absolutely nothing.

Currently, the hotel has just completed its final transformation with big thanks to Lucifer and Charlie's magical powers and sorcery. With your distress multiplying with every passing second, you couldn't bring yourself to be as excited as the others. You silently excused yourself from the group by the main entrance, wandering off to the furthest side of the building and turning the corner. With a trembling sigh, you leaned against the wall, covering your mouth with your hands as a sob wracks through your body.

You hadn't felt as anxious as you were, in so, so long. It must've been the build up from the months-long preparations made to fend off Heaven to now, that had you overwhelmed. Yes, there was no doubt that Alastor was powerful, but he fought Adam head on – the very first man – which you were able to only catch minor glimpses of in the midst of battle. And that was probably the last time you saw him.

You didn't want to think about the possibility of loss. Because there's no way, right? ...Right? The others were also quick to reassure you plenty of times, sensing your growing unease with each passing day. But it did little to nothing to help ease your nerves. Preoccupied in your own despair, you failed to sense an approaching figure among the shadows.

"'Cher? What are you doing, hiding all the way down here?" A static-like voice called out, causing you to stiffen, "you should be celebrating with the others! You wouldn't want to miss out on such an exciting time!" Eyes widening, you swiftly pivoted yourself to face them. Low and behold, the source of your worries stood before you, all in one piece, smiling down at you with his usual Cheshire-like grin.

"...Alastor?" You weakly called out. Your wavering tone caused the Overlord to raise a brow, mild confusion taking over him. "Yes, my dear?" He asks with a tilt of his head. But it wasn't until he took a closer look at your distressed features that his expression softened a faction. "Darling, you're upset...why are you crying?"

Despite your immense relief, you couldn't help but send him a baffled look. "Wha-Why am I crying? Are you serious, Al?" You spat back incredulously. "You've been gone for two days! Two days! And I didn't know where or-or how you were! Can’t you even imagine how I must've felt when I couldn't find you after the fight?” Alastor only blinked at your sudden outburst. “And you don't even think to tell any of us where you've gone off to! I thought...I-I thought..." Your voice died down as a sob threatened to leave your throat. "I-I thought you were gone."

"Oh, dear, don't be silly," Alastor softly chuckles, fixing his monocle, "it'll take more than those pesky, little angels to get rid of me!" His lanky legs strided towards you, his head shaking in mild amusement. He stops just before you, leaning forward to pat your head reassuringly. Sniffling, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. It gave you the reassurance you wanted and needed – it was proof that he was here with you, physically. However, the action unexpectedly causes Alastor to stiffen. You furrow your brows, lifting your head to send him a questioning look.

"...Al? Are you okay?" You worriedly ask, slowly unwrapping yourself to inspect him. Usually, Alastor didn't mind whether you initiated physical contact and vice versa, especially considering that you had been together for a while now. You then glanced behind him and your surroundings in caution – there didn't seem to be anyone watching either, knowing that he wasn't as fond of PDA.

As you pan your eyes towards his face, you were surprised to see a tensed expression. "N-Nothing to worry about, darling," he says through a forced smile, waving his hand dismissively before sharply pivoting himself the other direction. "Now, shall we go join the others now? They're probably wondering where we've both gone!" Nonchalant, he begins walking off with his hands crossed behind his back. That was...strange. Something was clearly wrong, you think to yourself.

"Al, wait!" You jog towards him, passing and stopping him in his tracks. "Is...is there something wrong?" You worriedly ask. "I just...I feel like you're not telling me something. I-If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

You felt your words die in your throat as a noticeably large, wet patch began to form against his dress shirt. You let out a startled gasp. "Wha–you're‐you're bleeding!" You cry in panic, hands raising and twitching in front of you with uncertainty. His expression darkening, Alastor stubbornly shook his head, gently pushing you aside by the shoulder, "Like I said, it's nothing to worry about. It's not but a small scratch! I'll be fine, dear–"

"No, you're not fine!" You interjected, eyes blurring in tears and wavering. Your hands shook as you gawked at the growing stain on his shirt. At that, you didn't miss the way Alastor's lips twitched in presumed pain, as small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Gritting your teeth, you reach out to grab his wrist, preparing to pull him towards the hotel's entrance. "Come on, Al. W-We need to get you cleaned up–" A firm squeeze in your hand stopped you in your tracks as you turned back to face him, distressed.

"[Name]. I said I'll be fine," he sternly says, his voice contorting in static. Despite the sinister grin he displayed, it left you unfazed. You pinched your brows and balled your fists in frustration, staring at him in disbelief. "...What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at the deer-demon, "You're clearly not fine–you wouldn't be fucking bleeding right now if you were fine!"

Alastor clicked his tongue, "Darling, you're exaggerating too much, don’t you think? You don't need to fret—"

"Shut up! I-I don't give a damn who you think you are! Strong Overlord or not, I'm worried, okay?! I-I'll always be worried about you!" Angry tears began pouring from your eyes. "I was scared for my life when I didn't hear from you the past few days! I didn't know what happened to you–if you were okay or even alive! I-I couldn't even get a single blink of sleep last night, so don't fucking tell me to not worry!" Alastor's egotistical and prideful personality was not news to you and everyone else – you knew how stubborn he could be, and now was no exception. It was absolutely infuriating.

Alastor's grim expression eased at your growing distress, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he watched you messily wipe your face. You took a brief moment to compose yourself, your breaths shaky and uneven. "Look, just–I don't want to argue right now, okay?" You hiccup, "i-if you don't want the other's seeing you like this, just...I-I don't know, teleport us inside the hotel somewhere. Just anything, so I can stitch you up properly."

Begrudgingly, Alastor manifested his microphone from thin air. He didn't have any room to argue with you here. He then softly taps the ground with the bottom of the stand twice, casting a group of black shadows from the ground. They surrounded you both in a circular-like motion, completely filling your sights with a black void. There was a brief gust of wind and it didn't take long until they dissipated, the both of you now standing in what was assumed to be your new shared room in the hotel – it was nearly identical to your previous one before the reconstruction, save for the new wallpaper.

"Remove your shirt. I'll get the kit," you immediately order as you point at the bed, gesturing for him to sit. You then disappear into the bathroom for a brief moment, grabbing the small first-aid kit under the sink before returning to the bedroom. Alastor had already sat himself down the edge of the bed, his dirty button-up and coat neatly folded on the floor, and his chest bare. You grimaced as you eyed the massive, fresh gash across his scarred chest, that was somewhat tended to with poor stitching.

You let out a disapproving sigh. "I expected your patching to be a little better than this,” you comment as you set the kit beside him, taking out some gauze and alcohol. Alastor rolls his eyes. "It's not everyday you get struck by an angelic weapon, dear," he shoots back sarcastically. There was a small stagger in your movement, your jaw clenching as a deep frown settled on your lips. So it was because of Adam that he's in this state, you sourly think. You try to not let the thought affect you too much as you begin disinfecting his wound.

While you were fixing him up, the both of you remained in complete silence. You actively chose to ignore his piercing gaze in the meantime, which practically burned through your skull as you maintained your focus solely on his wound. Your earlier frustrations didn't seem to simmer down either, deciding to keep quiet to prevent another one-sided shouting battle. As much as you loved Alastor, his lack of understanding towards your concerns vexed you to no end. Because, hypothetically speaking, what if he had actually died during his fight against Adam? If his body went missing, you were never going to find the closure you needed and were probably gonna go on with your life not knowing of his whereabouts. Your life would've been completely miserable with the constant grieving. And like Alastor smartly said, it wasn’t everyday that he’d be fighting a divine opponent, so definitive defeat wouldn’t be completely off of the table despite being quite powerful himself.

The mere thought brought fresh tears to your eyes, which you were quick to blink away. ‘No…there’s no point dwelling in the past and what-if’s,’ you reprimand yourself. Alastor’s here, after all. That's the only thing that matters right now. But regardless, you still remained upset.

After a while and now satisfied with your craft, you neatly applied a bandage around his chest and waist. "...Don't put too much pressure on it for a while," you quietly advised as you began packing the equipment away. You continued to ignore his gaze, knowing that you'd lose your composure if you were to look at him. Without sparing him a glance, you lazily chucked the kit by the bedside table and made your way towards the door. Shortly after, you left the room without another word.

You found yourself aimlessly walking on the balcony facing the bar, near the main entrance. There, you saw Charlie walking up the stairs adjacent from you, who was quick to catch your approaching form. "[Name], there you are! I was just looking for you!" She cheerily says, skipping towards you with excited steps. "Everything looks so, so amazing, can you believe it?! Oh, oh! We all saw Alastor, by the way! I told you he was going to be fine–erm, [Name]?" The Princess forced her banter to a halt upon spotting your swollen, red eyes.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" She softly asks, coming forth to rub your back. You open your mouth to speak but consciously stop to think your answer through. You knew not to speak a word of Alastor’s state at the moment, knowing it would desecrate his persona. So you decide to keep it short and vague.

"Alastor and I...we, uhm…had a small fight," you briefly explain with a tight-lipped smile. Charlie’s eyes softened in understanding. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did...do you wanna talk about it?” She kindly offers, holding your hand. You shake your head, “It’s alright, Princess. I’ll be okay in due time.” You didn’t want to dampen the overall mood and atmosphere, after all the hard work and sweat shed for this very moment. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure…” she hesitantly replies, giving you another quick look-over. “Say, how about we get you cleaned up a little and we head down and join the others? It’ll help clear your mind a little bit, yeah?”

Bless her heart, you think with a small smile. With a nod, Charlie dragged you to the nearby restroom, where you splashed your face with water and did minor touch-ups to look somewhat decent. Shortly after, you joined the others by the main lounge, who all cheered and welcomed you with open arms. All the while, your mind automatically wandered to Alastor, who you knew was dwelling somewhere within the hotel.

After a couple hours of celebration, you all decided to retire for the night, exhausted from the day's work. Charlie had sent you off with a small hug, wishing you luck as you slowly made your way back to your room. You felt your heart thump loudly against your ears as you spotted your room number in the distance, which only intensified as you reached for the knob and opened the door.

With a deep breath, you entered the room and to your surprise, you found Alastor where you had left him. However this time, he was already in his night-wear and was comfortably sitting upright and against the bed frame, legs under the covers and reading some book. He made no effort to acknowledge your presence as he hummed a random, sweet tune, licking a finger to flick a page of the novel he was supposedly engrossed in. You didn't know what would've irked you more – the fact that he wasn't addressing you right now or alternatively, if he were to go on about his day in his usual chirpy-self, and not bring up what had happened. Reciprocating his behaviour, you wordlessly went to the bathroom to do your usual night routine and changed into a comfortable set of pyjamas. When you were done, you beelined towards your side of the bed, stiffly slipping under the covers with your back facing him and pulling the covers close to your face.

The tension was dripping as the room filled with an uncomfortable silence. You unconsciously found yourself pacing your own breaths, as if you were worried that you were breathing a sound wave too loud. You also didn't move a single inch from your spot, remaining stagnant like a statue. It remained that way for a short while, unable to find a single blink of sleep or tiredness, just as you did the past couple days.

“Darling, I know you’re awake…” Alastor says, finally breaking the silence as he shuts his book with a soft thud, placing it by the bedside table. There was a brief pause, as if he was waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t. You listen intently in silent anticipation as you dug yourself further into your pillow.

“I…I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. It wasn’t in my intentions to upset you,” he continues, “I didn’t mean to carelessly dismiss your concerns the way I did. I understand that you’re merely worried for me. After all, if had it been you in my place instead, I would’ve acted the same way, if not more. And I’m sorry for troubling you these past few days. It was due to my carelessness that made you disregard your own health and caused you so much distress. With that, I want to express my utmost gratitude to you for looking after me despite it all. I…I hope you can forgive me, darling.”

It was simple and straight to the point. And yet, his words struck a chord with you, causing a new onset of tears to flow and dampen the bed sheets. Alastor wasn’t one to easily admit his faults and apologise the way he did, so his words had so much of an impact on you. Though you had your own few questions to ask him, you suppose that this was enough for the time being as you didn’t want another day to go by, remaining in conflict with each other. You turn yourself to face him, sitting up and tearfully looking up at him. Silent, Alastor looked back down at you in a hopeful manner, his usual grin on his face. “O-Of course, I forgive you,” you quietly replied as you carefully hugged his side, “I-I just…I want you to look after yourself better. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if I had lost you then.”

Huffing in relief, he softly snickers into your hair, running one of his claws through its strands. “Like I said, you won’t lose me, my dear. I’ll even wreak havoc across all of Hell to get back to you,” he cheesily coos as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You wetly chuckle at his remark, leaning into him closer. “That’s quite a huge commitment to make, Al. You promise you gonna keep your word for it?” you jokingly reply, playfully poking at his chest. Grin widening, Alastor boops your nose with a single digit, “that’s a guarantee, darling.”

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor

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sinkovia · 4 months

Text

He's cheating, isn't he?

Price x Fem!Reader

Angst

As the weeks turned into months, you couldn't ignore the growing unease that had settled in your heart. It had started innocently enough, with Price getting up to take a phone call in the living room. At first, it didn't raise any suspicion, but it soon became a regular occurrence, happening every week, sometimes even multiple times within the week.

You knew deep down that Price would never cheat on you. His love for you was undeniable, and you were well aware of it. However, the constant disappearances for hours on end began to wear on your trust and your self-esteem.

Price would always tell you that he was just going to get groceries, but when he returned, there would only be one bag in his hand. It didn't make sense for him to be gone for hours just to bring back one bag of groceries.

The months went by, and the secret phone calls continued. With each instance, your patience wore thinner, and the restraint you had built was beginning to crumble. You couldn't help but feel that something wasn't right.

When you asked him about the calls, he only mumbled that it was work. But you couldn't help but wonder why he couldn't simply take those calls near you if they were indeed just work-related matters.

The increasing secrecy and lack of transparency were eroding your trust and leaving you with a growing sense of unease. It was clear that something was amiss, and you couldn't help but wonder who Price was hiding from you.

One day, as you lay with your head nestled in Price's lap, his fingers gently brushing through your hair, the soothing rhythm of his touch had started to lull you into a peaceful state. But that tranquility was abruptly interrupted when his phone rang, startling him.

Price quickly moved you off his lap to take the call. You felt a surge of anger bubbling up inside as he did, a sense of rejection and abandonment washing over you. You got up from the couch, the slow, deliberate steps taking you to your bedroom, where you leaned your ear against the door, desperate to eavesdrop.

Through the muffled sound, you heard Price's voice as he spoke on the phone. The words were unclear, but you strained to listen. There was a long pause, and then Price let out a sigh, a heavy and weighted sound that filled you with dread.

"...Four months..." Those two words hung in the air like a storm cloud, and your heart sank as you tried to make sense of what they meant.

It felt like the ground beneath you was slipping away, and you couldn't help but wonder if Price was planning on leaving you in four months, ending your relationship and moving on to someone else. Tears welled up in your eyes as you walked back to the couch, your mind racing.

The thought left you emotionally paralyzed, tears threatening to brim in your eyes as you walked away from the door, quietly retaking your spot on the couch. Your gaze fixed on the television, your mind racing. Price soon entered the living room and took a seat next to you, his concern evident in his voice.

"Love?"

You were lost in your thoughts, not immediately hearing him. It was only when he said your name that you snapped back to reality, forcing a smile and responding, "Sorry, hun, just daydreaming."

Price smiled and placed his hand over yours, "You know I love you, right? More than anything."

Your smile almost faltered, but you managed to keep up the facade, placing your hand over his and gently squeezing. "I know you do."

He kissed your forehead and you leaned your head back into his lap, his hand combing through your hair, while his attention shifted to the TV. But for you, everything else seemed to fade away.

You battled back tears and internal questions. Who was this other woman? When had Price started seeing her? What excuse would he make to end your marriage?

Over the next three months, you worked hard to keep up the facade. Occasionally, it would slip, and you'd find yourself crying in Price's arms, but you always made excuses, blaming it on cramps or a bad day. However, your heart was heavy with the uncertainty and fear of what might be coming.

However, one day during dinner, as you looked up from your plate, you saw blood trickling from Price's nose. Your eyes widened in alarm.

"Oh my god, hun, your nose is bleeding," Concern evident in your voice. Price raised his hand to his nose and saw the blood on his fingertips.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Let me just clean it up," he assured you. As he got up from the chair, he suddenly collapsed to the ground. Panic set in as you rushed to his side.

"Give me a second; I'm going to get my phone and call 911," you said, running to the other room, your fingers trembling as you dialed for help.

You sat in the hospital room, holding Price's hand while he slept in the hospital bed. The tension was palpable, but you had no idea of the heavy news that was about to be revealed. The doctor entered the room, and you turned your attention to him, your heart already drumming in your chest.

"The tumor has grown significantly over the past three months," the doctor said, his voice laden with sorrow. "I'm very sorry to say, but he only has a few weeks, a month at best."

Your world froze as the words left the doctor's mouth. "What do you mean, tumor? What tumor are you talking about?" you asked in shock, your voice trembling.

The doctor's eyes widened as he realized that Price had never shared this information with you. "I'm very sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your husband has had a brain tumor for the past year. He has been coming here quite frequently for CT scans. I thought he shared the news with you.”

Your heart dropped, and your ears were ringing as the doctor's words sank in. "Thank you, doctor. I think I want some alone time if that's okay with you," you said, turning away to be by Price's side, your hand finding his again.

"Of course," The doctor nodded and left the room, leaving you in silence.

This revelation shattered your world. All those months of misunderstanding, suspicion, and fear, thinking that he was cheating on you, were suddenly replaced with the realization that he had been dealing with a life-threatening condition. And he had hidden it from you, for what reason, you couldn't fathom.

Alone with Price, your hand found his once more. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and as they met yours, he saw the tears streaming down your face. Confusion and worry knitted his brows, and tears welled up in his own eyes.

"You know, don't you?" he whispered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you sobbed, gripping his hand tightly. Price's own tears fell freely now. Using his other hand, he covered yours, squeezing it with all the strength he had left.

"I didn't want it to ruin you. I didn't want you to let it destroy you, for you to count down the days you had left with me. I wanted us to live a normal life together. I wanted your last year with me to be full of happiness. I just wanted you to be happy. I'm so sorry,"

Price confessed, his voice cracking. You dropped your head as you cried out, the weight of his secret too much to bear. Price did his best to sit up, his hands cupping your face, making you look at him.

"I thought you were cheating on me," you cried out as tears ran down your face. Price looked shocked but quickly laughed softly through his own tears.

"Sweetheart, I would never," he assured you. You reached over and hugged him tightly, burying your face in his neck as you sobbed out your anguish.

"I don't want you to die," you choked out as Price's tears streamed down his face, and he held you even tighter.

"I don't want to die either," he whispered back. He cried with you, and you both shared your pain, finding comfort in one another. Eventually, you fell asleep next to him on the hospital bed.

Two weeks later, you found yourself standing in front of Price's casket, a sea of mourners around you. Your eyes were vacant and hollow, lost in a world of pain and sorrow as you gazed at his lifeless form, lying in the casket. The weight of his absence was suffocating, and the pain of losing him was overwhelming, etching deep lines of grief and despair on your face.

The world moved around you, but you felt frozen in time, unable to comprehend that Price was gone. As the solemn ceremony continued, the reality of your loss settled heavily on your shoulders, and the tears flowed freely, reflecting the profound sense of emptiness that had taken root in your heart.

You had been going through the motions of daily life, the absence of Price weighing heavily on your heart. As you checked the mail one afternoon, you noticed a letter that seemed different from the usual bills and advertisements. Your eyes grew wide with curiosity as you recognized the handwriting on the envelope, and your heart raced with anticipation.

Rushing to the living room, you tore open the envelope with trembling hands. Your eyes scanned the familiar words, and tears welled up as you realized it was a letter from Price. Your heart ached as you devoured every word, feeling his presence through his written words, and a bittersweet mix of emotions washed over you.

My Dearest y/n,

As I sit here, pen in hand, I am filled with a mixture of emotions that I'm struggling to put into words. I write this letter in the hope that it reaches you a few days after I'm gone, a small attempt to convey what's in my heart before my time in this world ends.

I want you to know how much I love you. I want you to carry that love with you always. You are the sun, the warmth that has filled my heart, and the love that has given my life meaning.

I want you to understand that my decision to keep my illness from you was not out of deceit or a desire to protect you from pain. It was a misguided attempt to preserve your happiness.

I see now that my silence did more harm than good, and for that, I am truly sorry. The weight of my secret was a heavy burden, and I regret not sharing it with you sooner.

As you face the days without me, I want you to know that it's okay to grieve, to feel anger, sadness, and loss. Emotions are a natural part of life, and there is no right or wrong way to experience them.

I want you to cherish the memories we created together. The laughter, the shared dreams, the quiet moments, they are all a testament to the beautiful life we built. Please, hold on to those memories, for they will keep me alive in your heart.

Live your life, my love. Pursue your dreams, follow your passions, and find joy in the simple pleasures of life. I have always believed in your strength, your resilience, and your ability to make the most of every moment. You have a bright future ahead, and I hope you embrace it with all the enthusiasm and optimism that you have always possessed.

I may be leaving this world, but my love for you will never fade. I will always be with you in spirit, watching over you, guiding you, and protecting you. You are a remarkable person, and you deserve all the love and happiness that life can offer.

I'm grateful for the love you gave me, and I am blessed to have known you. Cherish the life we had together, and as you move forward, carry our love with you in your heart. Until we meet again in a better place, my love, I will be waiting for you, just as you will always be in my heart.

With all the love in my soul,

John Price.

You can almost hear his voice echoing through the written lines. Your heart tightens, and tears roll down your cheeks as you finish reading.

Uncontrollable sobs wrack your body, and the ache in your chest intensifies with each passing moment. You find yourself gasping for breath between heart-wrenching cries. The raw pain of loss washes over you, and each word in the letter feels like a bittersweet echo of the love you shared.

In the days that followed, the words lingered, an ethereal presence in your heart. The letter remained a harbinger of sorrow, a tangible testament to the void Price left behind. Tears now blurred the lines, rendering his words almost unreadable. Yet, within those blurred lines, you found a flicker of resilience.

The pain of loss remained, an unwelcome companion, but within the lines of his letter, there was an urge to honor his memory through living life the way he would have wanted you too.

Slowly, like the tentative bloom of flowers after a harsh winter, you began to unfurl. You traced a path towards healing, stumbling through the fog of sorrow. The world around you seemed dull at first, colors muted and sounds distant. Yet, with each passing day, a glimmer of resilience emerged, a hesitant spark pushing through the darkness.

You found yourself in small moments – a sunrise painting the sky with hues of warmth, a stray cat lying on your porch, the scent of rain on the pavement. In these fragments of life, you began to glimpse a flicker of the light that once danced in your husband's eyes.

Carrying his memory, you navigated the world anew, a hesitant traveler on a journey of healing. His words echoed in your mind, encouraging you to embrace the vibrant symphony of existence. You found fragments of him in unexpected places – a familiar song on the radio, a butterfly dancing in the garden, or the scent of his favorite cologne lingering in the air.

In these moments, you felt a connection beyond the tangible, a comforting presence whispering that he was still with you. It wasn't a cure for the ache of loss, but rather a soothing balm, a reminder that love could transcend the boundaries of life and death.

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queenshelby · 6 months

Text

Forbidden Desire (Part 18)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

Birmingham - Three Weeks Later

It was around 8 o'clock when you arrived at Arrow House, wearing a floor-length black dress that showed off your curvaceous physique and accentuated your statuesque presence. The dress highlighted your luscious cleavage and revealed tantalising flashes of your smooth legs whenever you walked.

Accompanied by your new partner Robert, you were rather late as your baby-boy did not want to go to sleep without you rocking him in your arms. Leaving him with your maid, who had travelled with you from Boston, made you nervous but Robert reminded you that an event like the one tonight was not one to be shared with minors.

As such, when finally arriving at Arrow House, you already found the estate buzzing with activity - people talking excitedly about the impending nuptials of Tommy and Lizzie.

The grand old house seemed even more majestic now than you had remembered. There was music playing in the background, creating a romantic atmosphere for the forthcoming wedding ceremony which was something that made you feel conflicted.

Out of all women in England, it was Lizzie who your uncle Tommy had chosen to marry and, whilst you knew why he had decided to tie the knot with this woman, you wished that he did not.

With a hint of disgust on your mind, you glanced at your reflection in a nearby mirror, adjusting your hair slightly before heading towards the festivities.

Robert held your hand lightly, leading you across the marvelously decorated ballroom where guests sat sipping champagne and enjoying live jazz music played by a talented band onstage. Your heart ached for Tommy, wondering if this marriage would truly bring happiness to him after everything you two had experienced together. In truth, a small piece of you yearned for him, craving the chance to explore those undeniable connections between you.

But then, the other part of you felt nothing but hatred for the fact that he never wrote to you in the past twelve months.

Hadn't he ever missed you? Did you mean less to him than the woman he was about to marry? These questions circled endlessly in your mind, driving you mad while making you question whether keeping your memories alive was worth the pain.

Although you had written twice to him, without a response, you knew that Tommy was unaware of the fact that you had his child and so was everyone else. Everyone but Ada.

You also had not seen anyone but Ada until now and whilst your father had written letters of nothing to you twice a month, it was Linda who caused him to be estranged, adding even more complexities to your strained family ties.

Seeing him standing there now with his brother Tommy, in the distance, sent waves of mixed emotion through you and, usurpingly, on seeing you enter, the room went silent.

Tommy's gaze locked onto yours, a mixture of surprise and curiosity warring across his features.

Lizzie, on the other hand, appeared irritated by your arrival. Her brow furrowed in annoyance as she realized that another potential threat stood among the crowd.

All eyes turned towards you as you approached the center of the room, radiating confidence in your sleek, high-slung black dress that hugged your curves perfectly. With each step taken, a sense of unease seemed to permeate the space, and the only sound heard was the heavy beat of your footsteps against the polished wooden floor.

Even amidst the chaos, you couldn't help but notice the way Tommy's gaze followed you relentlessly, like a predator studying its prey.

His hungry eyes bore into yours, sending shivers down your spine. The unspoken desire that flowed between you was palpable, nearly tangible. Lizzie's jealousy could be read clearly in her scowl directed your way, causing you to smile subtly to yourself as she noticed your acknowledgment.

Reaching Tommy's side, you greeted him coolly with a nod and a forced smile, determined not to let him see how affected you were by his magnetic pull even after twelve months of silence from him.

Glancing over at Lizzie, you offered her a polite yet detached nod as well, trying to maintain a neutral demeanor amidst the storm brewing within you before approaching her and her husband to be more closely.

"Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials," you stated calmly, feigning indifference as you spoke. Lizzie's expression remained frosty, refusing to return your gesture. "Thank you," she responded coldly, turning away from you as quickly as possible while Tommy assessed your companion.

"Who is this?" Tommy asked, casting a skeptic glance toward you. His tone betrayed the uncertainty he harbored regarding your unexpected presence at his home, which was something he clearly knew nothing about.

"This is Robert. My partner," you introduced calmly, hiding any trace of lingering attraction towards Tommy behind a veneer of composure. Giving Lizzie a wary once-over, you continued, "He is a doctor, in Boston. We met at a charity event there," you then continued before allowing your father, Arthur, to give you a hug.

"A doctor, eh?" Arthur interjected, smiling politely, before introducing himself as Arthur Shelby, your father, to him.

In turn, Robert shook hands firmly with him, seeming eager to impress him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby," he said, to which Arthur smiled approvingly, feeling impressed by the young man's enthusiasm while you, in turn, felt impressed by your father's attitude towards your newfound love. With his third child on the way, he had clearly softened a bit.

Meanwhile, your attention shifted back to Tommy, whose focus returned to you. The intensity of his gaze sent chills down your spine, stirring feelings buried deep inside you.

"It must be serious if you bring him here, to fucking Birmingham, eh?" Tommy retorted sharply, eyeing both you and Robert suspiciously. His sarcastic words stung, triggering hurt and confusion.

"For a matter of fact, it is. Robert asked me to marry him," you informed them casually, looking steadily at both Tommy and Lizzie, attempting to conceal the swell of anxiety building within you.

An awkward silence filled the air momentarily as your statement reverberated throughout the room. Tommy's face flushed red frustration.

"Is that true?" he snapped at Robert, challenging his credibility. "You proposed to her?" Tommy wanted to know, causing Robert to nod nervously.

"Yes, Mr, uhm, Shelby..." Robert began to say without a formal introduction, to which you informed him that his name was Tommy and that he was your uncle.

"That explains things," Robert commented before silently acknowledging the fact that there were some incredible physical similarities between your son and your uncle Tommy.

"Well, congratulations to you both!" Tommy exclaimed, raising his glass to salute you before taking a generous gulp of whiskey. However, you could tell that he was still struggling to process the news, his emotions bubbling beneath the surface. This wasn't what he expected or wanted, especially considering the tension simmering between you and Lizzie since you set foot into the hall. The last thing he needed right now was more drama, particularly involving someone connected to his beloved niece whom he secretly desired.

"Thank you, Uncle," you replied coldly as the tension grew thick around you and, luckily for you, it was at this point, that you were whisked away by your aunt Polly.

As you turned your back towards Tommy, his piercing eyes seemed to burn into you, leaving no doubt that he saw you differently compared to others present. The sight triggered powerful sensations within you that you struggled to control, prompting you to take a deep breath before joining Polly.

Walking beside you, Polly patted your arm comfortingly, noticing the slight tremble in your voice. As you stepped out into the hallway, she leaned closer, whispering softly in your ear, "it was me who sent the invitation."

The shock registered instantly upon your face, leaving you speechless for a brief moment. "Why?" you eventually managed to ask, confused by her decision, seeing that it was her who suggested you go to Boston in the first place.

"Because Thomas has been making bad choices since you left," Polly confided earnestly, her eyes gleaming with concern. She took a steadying breath, continuing quietly, "There is such darkness in him these days and it worries me."

Your throat tightened with a mix of sympathy and anger and you wondered how much your absence affected him.

"Polly, you made him send me away and I started a new life, in Boston, with Robert now. I am happy," you lied before continuing on. "So, I am not here to fix Tommy for you," your lips formed a thin line, showing disapproval for Polly's attempt to change your fate.

"No, sweetheart. You won't need to. The existence of your son will do that," Polly explained gravely, pointing out that you having had a child with Tommy would naturally draw him back to reason.

"You know about my son?" you demanded, surprised that Polly was aware of your baby's existence. It didn't escape your notice that she might have known all along, choosing to remain quiet about it, perhaps wanting to spare you further heartache during those early months when you hadn't heard anything from Tommy either.

Her eyes flashed with sorrow, and she gave a gentle nod.

"I knew that you were pregnant before you left Birmingham. It was one of the reasons I wanted you gone. But please don't think ill of me. I did what I thought best for everyone involved," Polly explained, her voice laced with regret. You listened carefully, trying to reconcile everything she told you tonight and how it tied together. Your head reeling with so many revelations and emotions flooding your system, your stomach clenched painfully.

"All you and Thomas ever thought about were these goddamn elections. This is why he is marrying Lizzie, isn't it? Because she had his daughter, and it would look bad for him if it was to be found out that he fathered a child with a career prostitute," you murmured aloud with anger and frustration.

"Yes. It was the plan all along until you came into the picture," she admitted sadly, confirming your suspicions. "Then he fell for you, and I should have let him, no matter the consequences," her voice cracked slightly, expressing regret over the mistakes they had made.

"He shot three men last night, without remorse, because of some feud with the Chinese. And, the illegal business activities are continuing after, just fourteen months ago, he was certain that, within the year, Shelby Company Limited would thrive from its legitimate business activities alone," Polly then went on to explain without giving you much context but the information was alarming enough to make you worry about what you were walking into.

"Like I said, I am not here to fix Tommy for you. You have to do that on your own," you insisted stubbornly, standing your ground against your aunt's manipulative plans. You weren't going to become part of another game you played second fiddle to the family's ambitions. That time had passed.

"Well then I can only hope that you continue to stay safe wherever you are because, clearly, you have no idea what Tommy is sending through to Boston next. It's not just fucking booze anymore," Polly muttered under her breath, her eyes searching yours with unspoken messages.

"What do you mean?" you questioned cautiously, wondering where exactly the situation was heading. Your curiosity piqued, your fingers drummed impatiently against your side. "Is it snow?" you then asked, but she shook her head.

She paused briefly, deliberating whether or not to divulge sensitive information to you. But then, finally, she decided to trust you implicitly, understanding your resolve to live independently of the crime syndicate.

"It's opium, Love, and you need to watch your back," Polly revealed solemnly, grabbing your hand urgently.

A mixture of horror and disbelief spread across your features.

"Opium? What does Tommy want with opium?" You couldn't hide your fear and uncertainty about the implications. Opium trade brought immense danger to anyone associated with it, not just legally, but also socially.

"Perhaps you should ask him yourself," Polly advised, although her tone indicated reluctance, likely knowing full well the outcome.

Feeling increasingly uneasy, you continued to walk alongside Polly, listening intently as she spoke candidly about your uncle's recent descent into what she called the "darkness" and how he was becoming even more dangerous than before. The thought terrified you, imagining Tommy turning against his very own kin, including himself. Yet, you also understood that people like Tommy couldn't simply cease being who they were born to be.

They were products of their environments, trapped within their pasts, bound by chains woven from their ancestors' decisions. And yet, amidst the chaos and violence surrounding him, there was always something undeniably appealing about Tommy's brutish charm, a magnetism that drew you irresistibly toward him, awakening a hunger you didn't fully comprehend.

When you looked at Tommy, your eyes locked onto his deep blue gaze, a reflection of the storm brewing inside him and, later in the evening, with Robert mingling in the crowd, you decided to confront him.

Without hesitation, you sauntered towards him, the confidence you possessed radiating off every step you took.

His attention immediately shifted to you, the intensity of his gaze burning hotter than before, sparking memories of countless steamy encounters shared. Despite his determination to ignore you, the connection between you two was undeniable as you spoke.

"A word, please," you requested casually, your voice deceptively calm as his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"If you want to discuss your wedding plans, Love, then I suggest you do this with Ada, not me, eh?" Tommy responded dismissively, attempting to brush you aside while focusing on assessing your partner Robert whom he clearly disapproved of.

"I want to talk about business matters," you clarified steadfastly, determined to confront him directly.

"My office then," Tommy agreed, leading you through the crowded ballroom filled with guests and servants, none of whom noticed you leaving together.

Once outside, however, the tension escalated palpably, causing both of you to exchange guarded glances. You felt an invisible force drawing you closer to him, a magnetic pull emanating from his raw masculinity which erupted completely as soon as you reached his chambers.

For a short moment, his eyes lingered on your form silently, absorbing every curve, every feature – your mouth, your neck, your hands… The room seemed to spin around you as he caressed your cheekbone gently, trailing downwards towards your shoulder.

Suddenly then, Tommy’s lips pressed firmly against yours, his tongue sweeping boldly into your mouth, catching you by surprise.

Much to Tommy's surprise, however, you pushed him away forcefully and slapped him hard across the face.

"How fucking dare you!" you seethed, struggling to maintain composure, unable to believe his audacity.

Stunned, he stepped backward, holding his reddened cheek as if uncertain how to react.

"Twelve months it has been, Tommy! You pushed me away. I tried to call you. I have sent you two letters and I got nothing in return until Polly sent me this fucking invitation, to your fucking wedding!" Your voice trembled with rage, tears threatening to spill over as you expressed your disappointment. Your sudden explosion caught him entirely off-guard, revealing a vulnerability hidden beneath his swaggering facade.

Tommy stood silent for a few moments, unsure how to proceed or apologise for his behavior. His eyes darted nervously around the room, avoiding direct contact with yours, betraying his guilt.

Finally, he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Look, we both knew that this couldn't work. You are my fucking niece and I needed to distance myself from you," Tommy said and his voice held a hint of desperation, seeking forgiveness.

"Yes, and you did that, quite well if I may add. And now, I am with Robert and he is a good a man," you pointed out, raising your brow slightly, challenging him to argue otherwise.

"A good man, eh?" Tommy chuckled dryly, his eyes piercing straight through you, exposing the truth behind his words. "Is that really what you want, Love? A good fucking man?" he wanted to know and you bit your lip in annoyance.

"Well, yes, a good man is better than a man who will put me and my son into danger," you retorted defiantly, crossing your arms resolutely in anger.

"Your what?" Tommy asked, shocked and confused about you mentioning a child, before carrying on. "I can't believe that, within a few months of you moving to fucking Boston, you let this fucking yank knock you up," Tommy spat angrily, thinking that it was Robert who had fathered your son.

"Oh my god, Thomas..." you sighed heavily. "Robert isn't the father. I was already pregnant when I moved to Boston." There was a pause in your statement as you collected your thoughts, trying to discern how best to break this news to Tommy.

"But listen," you began slowly, feeling the weight of the secret growing heavier within you. "I didn't know at the time. I wanted to terminate, but it was too late. I was too far gone," you carried on and, as those words left your lips, you watched carefully for any change in expression on Tommy's face.

"Fucking hell," he growled, rubbing his temples, evidently lost in thought.

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alwaysmoncheri · 7 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 — ANAKIN SKYWALKER!

pairings ❧ anakin skywalker x reader

summary ❧ after a long, dangerous mission anakin comes back to you

warnings ❧ female!reader, implications of jedi!reader, anakin is absolutely smitten, kissing, reassurance, mentions of anxiety

word count ❧ 1.3k

additional notes ❧ my first anakin skywalker fic ´･ᴗ･`

You toss and turn in your bed, worried thoughts rushing through your head, consuming you like a plague, and robbing your mind and body from a much needed sleep.

You can never seem to fall asleep without him. Especially the nights spent not knowing whether he’s going to make it out of his solo missions alive. This time, you really wish you could’ve gone with him. You two always work best when you’re together and that’s one of the many reasons you fell in love with each other. Though, this time, the council sent Anakin to gather information about a mass of rising separatists alone. You know Anakin is a talented jedi, an impeccable spy, and an even better soldier. His skills with a lightsaber are unmatched, but the lingering voices in the back of your mind speak volumes, creating a sense of anxiousness to burn a hole in your chest.

Finally deciding that you’ve suffered through your anxiety for long enough, you sit up, throw your covers off of your aching chest, and swing your legs over the side of your bed. You stand, your legs wobble ever so slightly with unease still pinching at your heart. You then turn to grab your robes from their place hanging off the side of your headboard, and throw them over your shoulders holding the silky material tight to your shivering body. The soft sounds of your bare feet padding across the cold floor fills the silent space, and your quick, shaken breaths begin to slow, returning to their normal rhythm upon arriving at the balcony door.

When you step outside, the brisk night air envelopes your body and your robes begin to sway back and forth, following the serene rhythm of the breeze. You glance upward, towards the stars and approach the edge of the balcony. You then bring your arms up to gently rest upon the railing, your gaze still fixed on the night sky. While taking a deep, shaky breath, you close your eyes for a brief moment, and allow your chaotic thoughts to just be. The world seems to slow. The bustling streets of the lush city that was once ringing with life, is now quiet, finally offering a second of peace and tranquility for your soul.

When you reopen your eyes, you glance back up to the sky, the twinkling stars filling your gaze. A soft smile falls upon your face in response. The stars have always reminded you of Anakin. They’re utterly breathtaking, captivating in the most unexpected ways, always right there when you need them most, and they always have your heart.

“What are you still doing up, my angel?”

Anakin.

When you begin to twirl around upon hearing the familiar voice, you’re surprised by a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist and preventing you from finishing your motion. You instantly melt into his touch, your head resting against his warm chest and your body pooling into his arms like jello. And when he drops his head down to your shoulder, his messy, but soft curls brushing against your cheek, you think you’ve finally gone insane.

“Come to bed.” Anakin whispers against your neck, his words are muffled and his warm breath tickles your sensitive skin, causing an exhausted giggle to escape past your lips, “You need to sleep, my love.”

Anakin plants his lips upon your neck, trailing delicate kisses on your skin. Your stomach tingles in response to Anakin’s sweet gesture, but your heart aches with worry that this might not last forever. You place your hands on top of his arms, prying them away from your body just enough for you to spin around to face him.

“Ani…” You whisper, your voice almost inaudible while keeping your hands on his arms, your fingertips slowly trail upwards, and your eyes gaze into his with visible concern, “When did you get back?”

Ignoring your question for the time being, Anakin continues to deliberately place feathery kisses along your neck, his mouth beginning to travel upward, leaving a kiss on my jaw, both of your cheeks, your nose, and eventually your temple. Finally, Anakin places his forehead against yours, stepping closer and taking in a deep breath. His relief fills the air and you can feel the harsh, all-consuming weight being lifted from your lover’s shoulders.

“Not long ago.” Anakin responds, gently brushing his nose against yours and you can’t help but feel the pain he must’ve endured during his mission through the force connection the two of you have always shared, “Had to go through mission reports, strategies, lectures, the usual. I escaped Obi Wan’s grasp as soon as I could.” Anakin whispers in addition, and a sense of panic begins to rise within your gut, which you find might be caused by Anakin’s nonchalant behavior after leaving you alone and terrified for his life.

“I was so worried, Ani.” You cry and reach up to cling onto Anakin’s forearms, scared that if you let go even for a second, he’ll slip away, “You have no idea.”

“Trust me, angel. I do.” Anakin whispers, placing another sweet, lingering kiss to your forehead, carefully placing your trembling hands in his, and beginning to pull you back into the warmth of your room, “Please, come to bed.”

Not finding it within yourself to argue against him, you give in and allow Anakin to lead you across the room, over to where your bed lies in the middle of the moonlit space.

The second your eyes meet the soft, warm-looking bed, you seem to realize how tired you truly are. You know there hasn’t been a night since Anakin’s departure that you’ve been able to sleep all the way through, but you’ve been completely oblivious of its effect on your focus and mental stability. The unusually sympathetic looks you received from Obi Wan and the concerned glances from your friends during training over the course of the past week all begin to make sense.

Anakin’s warm touch against the soft flesh of your shoulder brings you back to the present moment, and this is a moment you definitely don’t want to miss. Not when he’s finally near.

Anakin’s heavenly soft fingers gently pull your robe off your body, leaving you shivering in your night attire. As the night air nips at your figure, Anakin strips off his own robes, then draws you into your bed, and finally pulls the covers on top of the two of you. A peaceful sigh escapes your lips when your head hits Anakin’s bare chest, his heartbeat has always brought you a sense of comfort and tranquility. His arms instantly wrap around your waist and gently pull you closer. You glance up, a soft smile gracing your face until your eyes come in contact with a small scar on Anakin’s neck, one you’ve not yet seen before.

“Are you hurt? What happened?” You panic, your hand shooting up to carefully press against his sensitive skin, “Maker, I should’ve been there—”

“Angel?” Anakin whispers, the softness in his voice catching my attention, and your worried eyes meet his loving ones.

“Yeah?” You ask quietly, and Anakin takes your hand in his, bringing it down from the new scar on his neck.

“I’m okay.” Anakin says reassuringly, pressing fluttering kisses along your knuckles and speaking in between them, “I’m right here.”

“But Ani, what if, one of these missions…” You trail off and glance away from your boy before regathering your thoughts, “What if you don’t come back?”

Anakin smiles a tender smile, one that you long to hold in your memory forever, and he begins to stroke your hair, his fingers getting caught in the strands. He’s trying to lull you to sleep and you don’t want to fight it. Not when you’re absolutely desperate to memorize the feeling of being close to him.

“You have nothing to worry about, my love.” Anakin hums when you finally close your eyes, “Until every last star in the galaxy dies, I’ll come back to you.”

my masterlist . my taglist

#my works #masterlist #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin x reader #star wars #sw rots #anakin skywalker fanfic

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belphiesreverie · 3 months

Note

Hello! May I please request a platonic yandere Dottore? With a prodigy reader he came across at the Academia?

Take care!

Ofc, tysm for the request!! 🫶

TW: yandere behaviour, manipulation, Dottore himself is a warning tbh

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. He’s absolutely plotting on how to convince you to join him the moment he sees your talent

He’s incredibly charismatic when first approaching you, knowing just what to say to get you to trust him. To open up to him about your struggles at the academia and keeping up with the demand at the level your teachers expect from you

He plays the sympathetic, understanding role well; you truly feel like he gets what you’re going through, the struggles of being put on a pedestal and expected to out perform yourself over and over. He feels like a mentor you can trust, or maybe even close to an older brother

And that’s when he proposes that you come work on a project with him instead. You don’t need the academia, he’ll provide you with a job. It’ll be low stress, working with someone you think you know well, and in a field you’re most interested in

It feels too good to be true, but Dottore assures you his offer is real. Has he ever lied to you before? So you take the leap and leave the academia to work directly under him

Dottore thinks that for a prodigy, you can be incredibly stupid sometimes

At first, the job seems exactly as Dottore had described it and you settle in quite quickly. He seems like a very understanding boss, and still just as kind as he was before you began working under him

There are a few questionable things about his lab that you start to notice as you spend more time there however

The other workers refuse to talk to you, some even outright avoiding looking at you, and the ones that you attempt to talk to too many times seem to get… transferred to another part of the lab

Sometimes you feel like you can hear screaming coming from distant parts of the lab, but Dottore always assures you it’s just your imagination, or the pipes making a strange sound etc. He always has an excuse prepared, but they seem to convince you less and less each time

There are security cameras in the rooms, which makes sense, but they give you a feeling of unease. Whenever you look up at them, it feels as if they’re always pointing directly at you, following your every move

Originally, you’d felt like you could bring these issues up to Dottore, but for some reason it doesn’t seem like an option anymore. It’s not like he’s directly given you a reason to distrust him yet… but you’ve just started to feel uncomfortable in his presence. What once felt like a safe space now feels like it’s constricting and oppressive

Dottore is no idiot, he can tell you’re starting to pull away from him. But he isn’t concerned. He knew you’d start to notice things eventually, it’s not like he was ever planning on keeping anything hidden. He just didn’t expect it to be so soon. Oh, but you are quite the genius aren’t you

He’ll leave you be for now, let you stew in your paranoia… maybe even feed into it a little bit. It is quite amusing to watch you pretend to stay composed. But the moment you start to think of leaving, he’ll step in to keep you exactly where he wants you

His word alone won’t be enough to quell you at this point, he’ll have to think of something more… permanent. But it’ll be worth it. He can’t have his favourite little worker running off on him after all, he still has so much more use for that magnificent brain of yours

#genshin #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #yandere dottore #yandere dottore x reader #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #tw yandere #tw manipulation

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hey there

I’m sooo obsessed with everything you write .. You’re so talented it’s insane

Might I request something really really angsty like heart crushing angst where the reader is suffering alone and pining over Joel while he goes on dates in Jackson (bc he never thought that reader is interested because of age gap) but Ellie notices and tries to bring them together

AN | Okay but imagine also some jealous!reader. All I will say is that there is a happy ending 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Another evening, which meant another disappointment.

You sighed heavily as you watched him walk down the street, a pretty blonde woman happily blabbering away next to him. Your heart clenched and stomach flipped at the sight. You hated it, even though you were in position to have any sort of opinion on the subject. Almost as if he sensed your unease and prying eyes, he turned around and caught your eyes. He offered you a small smile that you didn’t have the energy to return. Instead you turned around and walked away, trying to blink back the tears that threatened to give you away. He was left confused, but his attention was quickly stolen again by the woman at his side.

You hated that you had feelings for him; you hated the fact that you could never have him even more.

But - let’s rewind. It hadn’t always been like this. At one point you were sure you had a shot with Joel Miller. He’d been sweet on you since you moved to Jackson a few years back. At first you thought this was how he acted with everyone; Ellie had informed that it was most definitely not how treated just anyone.

And you let yourself get your hopes up. Maybe, just maybe, he felt even a verisimilitude of the ocean of feelings you held for him in return. But the times you allowed yourself to put your feelings on display, he either did not realize what you were doing or he ignored your affections. The first time you chalked it up to a fluke - that maybe you weren’t being clear or direct enough. After the next few times you were almost positive that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings. He was probably just putting up with you….the girl that pined over him and loved him the way the moon loves the ocean.

Over time you pulled back from him, spent less time around him, maybe yourself scarce when he was around. A little bit more every day you allowed the divide to grow. At first Joel had chalked up to you actually being busy, or just being in a mood, but eventually he knew what was going on. That this was intentional. You didn’t bother to explain yourself, didn’t even give him the opportunity to ask why.

You hid yourself away while he put himself out there. Yeah, feelings really sucked sometimes.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had been trying to enjoy a drink. One drink with a friend at the end of a long week; it was innocent and honest enough.

But you couldn’t help the way your eyes gravitated to the door each time it opened. It was like the masochist part of you was wanting to see him and allow yourself to get hurt.

This evening it hurt. You watched as Joel held the door open, a saccharine little smile on his face, as a gorgeous woman walked in. She was beaming at him, and her hand reached for his almost instantly. This had to be the third or fourth woman you’d seen him out with in recent memory.

“You’re staring,” Daisy hissed as you tore your gaze from the door and turned back to your finger, “could you be any more obvious?”

“What do you mean?” you tried to keep your voice as calm as possible, painting a sweet smile on your features.

“Joel,” she started, completely seeing through your bullshit, “it’s so clear to anymore with eyes, and probably without eyes, that you’re in love with him.”

“Daisy!” you clamped your hand over her mouth and looked around to make sure that no one else heard her, “shut up!”

“Why?’ she pried your hand away with a huge smirk, “because it’s true?”

“It is not,” you sounded like you were pleading with her more than anything else, “he’s just…another man. Besides…I’ve tried to make a move before - don’t laugh at me - and he all but rejected me. I’m not looking for any more humiliation.”

“That’s impossible,” she scoffed and raised her eyebrow, “he likes you! If you’re not looking at him, he’s always looking at you.”

“No,” shaking your head fervently, a small part of your heart couldn’t help but wonder if what she was saying was true, “you’re wrong.”

“Babes,” she patted your knee, “I can see him right now and he looks bored out of his mind. He’s totally not even paying attention to what she’s saying and - oh. Oh. He’s totally looking at you.”

“Stop,” you sighed softly, fighting the urge to turn around and see for yourself, “it’s not anything and it’s never going to be anything. So.”

“So,” she teased back, “he’s coming over so be on your best behavior.”

Panic set in immediately as you wondered if you had enough time to run away - but he made up your mind for you.

“Daisy,” Joel gave her a nod as she grinned at him before saying your name and turning to look at you, “hi.”

“Hey,” you allowed yourself the briefest of glances before turning back to stare at your drink as though it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Everything alright?” he asked, gently pushing for answers, “haven’t seen you around much.”

“‘m fine,” you waved him off, “better get back to your date.”

He remained silent for a moment, his brow setting into a hard line before turning to walk away, “see y’all around.”

Daisy’s mouth dropped open as she looked between you and his retreating back, “that was harsh.”

“Daisy, he’s on a date,” she sighed heavily, “he can go and be happy with her.”

“You do care about him,” after a few moments, you nodded slightly, “well then.”

“Can we just drop it?” you asked softly, “please?”

“Okay,” she promised, “okay.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Almost a week had passed since you’d last seen Joel. It had served as short of a blessing and curse at the same time. It made it easier to separate yourself from him, but served to make your heart yearn and ache for him. Over time, you figured, that too would pass and you’d be able to move on from him.

But Joel Miller, a stubborn and steadfast man, was not about to make your life that easy.

He found you walking home and practically sprinted to catch up with you. Part of you was tempted to ignore him, but then you felt him put his hand on your arm, “hey, stop. “

“Joel.”

“You’ve been ignorin’ me for long enough,” and yeah…he wasn’t afraid in the slightest to call you out. You stopped and turned to him, crossing your arms over your chest, “I think you owe me at least an explanation.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Don’t lie to me,” he scrubbed a hand over his tired face as you shrugged innocently, “I know something is wrong, and I wish…I thought we were friends. You can tell me anything.”

“There’s nothing to tell. You didn’t do anything,” you wanted to tell him the truth, wanted to tell him that his only fault was not feeling the same way about you, “I’ve just been busy and stuff. It’s not that deep.”

“Quit lying to me.”

“Fuck!” you threw up your hands in frustration, “fine - Joel, I don’t want to be your friend. We can’t be friends. I don’t want…you.”

He recoiled like you’d slapped him across the face. In some ways, he would have that - it would have hurt less. You felt like crying at the look of surprise and disappointment that crossed his features. You hadn’t meant for it to be so harsh and brutal, “oh.”

“I should go,” go and crawl into your bed and cry yourself to sleep because you’d hurt yourself and him.

“Why?” his question was simple but pointed, “tell me why and you’ll never have to be again. You owe me an explanation at least because before all of this - I thought we were okay.”

“Joel-”

“Please.”

“Because I’m in love with you.” you weren't sure if you’d really meant to say the words out loud but as soon as they tumbled out, both of you stared at each other in shock. Well…there was no going back now, “because I’m in love with you and you don’t feel the same and I can’t handle that. And maybe it’s stupid and selfish, but I can’t just be your friend, Joel. It kills me a little bit every time I see you out with someone else, and I’m just here being pathetic and pining. And I’m sorry to do this, but the only way I can see myself getting over any of it is by not being your friend.”

“You…you’re in love with me?” was all he managed to choke out, eyes soft and wide.

“I’m sorry,” you stared at the ground, kicking at a rock, “I didn’t mean for this to happen. But you wanted the truth and there is it.”

“Oh,” you already knew that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but his response didn’t make you feel any better.

“I’m going to…go,” you didn’t wait for him to say anything else, turning on your heel and practically running the rest of the way home. You felt tears pearl up and run down your cheeks, but didn’t bother to wipe them away, instead running inside and slamming the door shut.

That might have been the most painful and humiliating moment of your life. But at least it was all over now.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But Joel…no. It was far from over for him because he had just experienced about a million revelations at once.

The most prevalent of which was that you were in love with him. He had no clue…not even a sliver of hope. But now he knew. He knew.

He'd thought about following you home that night but had decided against it, figuring it was best to give you some space.

Joel even let a few days pass before he couldn't take it anymore. He had to see you, had to talk to you before he completely lost his mind.

And yes, he probably shouldn't have come to your work, but he couldn't stop him. You hadn't even noticed it was him when you heard the bell over the door to the coffee shop twinkled but didn't bother to see who it was. People normally just seated themselves; but this time someone walked towards you behind the counter.

You turned around and gasped when you saw it was Joel on the other side of the counter. You thought about ducking under the counter but it was much too late for that. Instead you stood there wordlessly while he tried to find the right words.

"Sorry for ugh, showing up like this," he scratched at the back of neck nervously, "I just really had to talk to you."

"A-about what?" Your voice sounded so small and squeaky that you cringed internally. You did want to seem like a pathetic little mouse on top of everything.

"The other night," he cleared his throat as your face burned. Fuck.

"Look I'm sorry about all of that," you sighed, cheeks way too warm, "I shouldn't have said anything and I'm sorry if I made things…awkward."

"I'm the one that should be sorry," he whispered after a few beats of silence, "I should have just said what I wanted to. But I got scared."

"Scared? You?" You raised an eyebrow as he met your eye and nodded, "of what?"

"Of telling you how I really feel."

"Oh," you waved a hand dismissively, "I already know that you just want to be my friend. Look, Joel, I don't think I'll be able to do that. I can't just change my own feelings."

"That's not…no," and he sighed softly, taking a moment to gather himself, "that's not exactly what I meant."

"W-what do you mean then?" Your eyes widened but you found yourself leaning closer to him. He'd approached the counter now and was very close to you. Your heart was hammering against your ribcage and your mind was reeling with the possibilities of what he could say or do, "Joel?"

Joel hesitated for a moment before reaching up and holding out a hand towards your face. You stood still and when you didn't try to brush him off, he put his hand on your face and brushed his thumb over your cheek. If you had felt warm before, you felt like you were on fire now. His touch was a juxtaposition of soft and rough and had you preening into his touch.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered his question, almost so quiet that you weren't really sure he'd actually said anything. But then a look of shock crossed your features. Joel wondered for a moment if he'd completely messed up but then the smallest hint of a smile crossed your features.

"Uh huh," you left dumbfounded as you blinked at him, "yes."

He ghosted his fingers along your jaw before slowly pressing his lips to yours. And you almost fell apart from even the simplest of touches. It felt so right, so perfect that you wondered why you hadn't done this a lot sooner. Kissing Joel Miller was everything.

Joel pulled back and gave you a questioning look, trying to gauge your reaction. Your mouth opened and closed a few times before settling into a small pout, "why did you kiss me?"

He laughed - nervous - before turning back to you, "isn't it obvious, sweetheart?"

"Isn't what obvious?" You exhaled sharply, "oh. So, you don't like me as just a friend?"

"No, I don't," he nodded.

"You like me…" you trailed off and waved your hand around, "as more than a friend."

"Bingo."

"You never said anything."

"Neither did you," he had you there as you shrugged sheepishly, "why didn't you?"

"I didn't think you'd ever want someone like me. Me," you wanted to curl up into a small ball and die at how pathetic the confession sounded out loud, "why didn't you?"

"Same reason," he was close to your lips and you could have just about kissed him, "why would you want me?"

"That's a silly question," you huffed slightly but nonetheless found yourself giving him a beaming smile.

"I could say the same to you," and with that, you couldn't stop yourself and kissed him again, "there's a million things to say but I'd like to tell them some other time. Like maybe over dinner…"

"Are you asking me on a date?" Your eyes went huge as he nodded, "what about all those…other girls?"

"Admittedly…they were a vain attempt to get over you," he chewed the inside of his cheek as he chanced a look at you, "and nothing ever happened with any of them. Nothing more than dinner or a beer. So."

"So," and yeah, by this time you were beaming. Your smile was brighter than the sun and prettier than the lushest flowers. And Joel Miller was a sucker for you, "nothing?"

"Nada," he promised, "but I'll let you decide…you don't have to give me an answer right now."

"I already know the answer - yes," Joel was over the moon already, "when are you free?"

"Any time for you," he insisted and you knew that was true. He'd always been like that for you, and you only.

"Tonight?" You blurted out eagerly before stopping yourself.

"Tonight," he agreed, "do you want to come over? I'll make dinner and dessert."

"That sounds…lovely," trying to keep your mind in check was already a challenge. You knew exactly what you had in mind for dessert, "I'm off at seven if that's okay."

"Of course," he reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "tonight. Seven."

"Okay," your response was a dreamy sigh that had him yearning hard for you already - more than he already had which had seemed impossible, "see you tonight, Joel."

"See you tonight, sweetheart."

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us

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yesihaveaobsession · 22 days

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Devils Desires

Alastor x female reader x Lucifer Morningstar

Summary: Charlie pushes you and lock you in a room with the king of hell and The Radio Demon, Both Al and Lucifer want you and want you for their own... and ONLY their own

A/N- shush, Alastor is hot. okay

You were clueless about how you ended up in this situation, being dragged by the Princess of Hell, Charlie, into a room. You had no idea what awaited you there or why you were being dragged, but there you were, utterly confused.

"Charlie? What's happening?" you asked, noticing her guilty expression. "Charlie?" Before you could react, you were shoved into the room and heard the door lock behind you. Turning towards it, you started banging, demanding answers. "CHARLIE? WHAT THE HELL?" Then you heard her muffled voice on the other side. "I'm sorry! They wouldn't stop talking about you!" They? Who were they? That's when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

You turned around to find the room occupied by two imposing figures. Each emanated power and charisma, sending shivers down your spine. On your right stood Alastor, the radio demon, with his cane in front of him and his claws resting atop the microphone. His smile was both charming and unsettling. On the left, leaning against the wall, stood the King of Hell, Lucifer Morningstar himself, his piercing gaze fixed upon you with undeniable interest.

Panic surged within you as you realized the gravity of the situation. Trapped in a room with two of the most influential and dangerous beings in Hell, there seemed to be no way out. Alastor's smile widened as he approached you, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement.

Meanwhile, Lucifer, still leaning against the wall, also sported a wider smile as he observed you, a mixture of curiosity and interest evident in his expression. "Indeed, it seems we have an unexpected guest," he remarked, causing your heart to pound with tension thick in the air. Lucifer then eyed you up and down before pushing off the wall. "And quite a delightful one at that," he added, arms crossed, smirking.

You had no idea of their intentions, and you couldn't believe Charlie, of all people in this hotel, had betrayed you like this. Caught between the intense gazes of the two powerful beings, a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach.

As Alastor stepped closer, his tall figure looming over you like a predatory shadow, he addressed you directly. "Tell me, my dear," he said, locking eyes with you, "Do you have a preference? A choice between the Devil himself and the Radio Demon?" Alastor tilted his head, his smile unwavering.

Before you could respond, Lucifer stepped into view, causing you to step back, palms sweating. With graceful strides, he approached, a smile almost revealing his intentions. "Surely, you must see the appeal of aligning yourself with the ruler of Hell," he stated, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Why settle for a mere demon when you could have the Devil by your side?"

The tension escalated, leaving you torn. Before you could make a decision, Alastor leaned closer, his claw grazing your hip, his voice a seductive melody as he whispered, "Imagine the thrill of being by my side, my dear. Together, we could conquer Hell itself, rewriting the rules to our liking."

The sensation sent shivers down your spine, but before you could dwell on it, Lucifer pulled you towards him, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Consider the possibilities of aligning yourself with the ruler of this domain," he urged, his tone resonating with centuries of authority. "With me, you could have anything your heart desires."

Amid the silent offers, you couldn't bring yourself to decide. With newfound resolve, you stepped forward, addressing both Alastor and Lucifer with unwavering determination. "I appreciate your offers, truly I do," you began, your voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions within. "But I refuse to be swayed by empty promises and false allure."

Alastor's response was swift. "I can offer you even better promises," he said, his claw tracing your jawline, resulting in a song and a whirlwind of movement as you found yourself spun between the two. Eventually, the door swung open, revealing Charlie. Your hair was disheveled, and you were breathing heavily as you ran to her, her eyes widening in surprise.

"They—they need help," you explained, gesturing to both the Radio Demon and the Devil, who wore proud smiles. You kissed Charlie, knowing that this was far from the end of the ordeal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N- I'm a Alastor girl forever and always but I'm hearing y'all out about the king of hell ;)

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #i have an obsession

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eksvaized · 3 months

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[ Next ] [ All In One ] part 1, MDNI

The vibrant colours of the setting sun blend effortlessly with the cool, dusky sky, bringing a sense of tranquillity. With every step you take down the deserted street, your eyes dart around. Your gaze keeps scanning your surroundings. The faint smell of old rain on the ground fills your nostrils. It's a sharp contrast to the day's disappearing warmth. You tread carefully, being cautious not to let the hard soles of your boots echo against the cold concrete. Despite the ache in your legs and the dull throb in your sore feet, you maintain a brisk pace. Your heart pounds in rhythm with your hurried footsteps.

In your right hand, which is glued to your side, you hold a hefty knife. The handle feels cold and digs into your skin. Your sweaty palm makes maintaining a steady grip a constant struggle. This forces you to adjust your hold occasionally to prevent the sharp blade from slipping through your fingers. As your gaze scans a row of abandoned houses, your eyes glide along the overgrown front lawns. The sight triggers an unsettling realisation — you have never been in this neighbourhood before.

A cold shudder trails down your spine. You swallow hard, trying to loosen the knot of fear tightening in your stomach. The thrill of discovering unknown places is usually a welcome feeling. It means you may find something useful. Whether it's a warm jacket, a gun with a few bullets in its chamber, or an abandoned stash of food. But when the sun sets and darkness takes over, unfamiliar territory is the last place you wish to be. Right now, you have no choice. You are miles away from your home. No matter how hard you are determined to push yourself, you won't be able to reach it tonight. You need to find another place to spend the night in. Roaming the dark streets at night is not an option — it's a risk you are reluctant to take.

The houses in this neighbourhood are all abandoned. But the dead could still be lurking within these dilapidated homes. As you continue walking down the street, you find yourself peering through the dusty broken windows. Eventually, your gaze falls on a particular house. Its windows are boarded up, though the front door stands ajar. You hesitate for a moment, your senses on high alert, listening for any signs of movement. Though you'd prefer to wait a few more minutes, the night is growing darker, and you can't keep standing on the porch. A biter could sneak up on you, and you don't wish to be its dinner tonight.

Deciding this place will have to do, you hold the knife in front of you and push the door. As it creaks, the sound reverberates through the air, causing you to grimace. You step inside the dark hallway, feeling the tension mounting. When no one jumps out at you from the shadows, you retrieve a flashlight from your backpack and turn it on. You explore the first floor, checking the living room and kitchen. A quick peek into the bathroom downstairs and an empty broom closet reassures you of your solitude. Apart from the sea of dust, broken furniture and an expired can of tomato soup, you find no signs of life. The shadows, once threatening, now offer solace in their silence.

Before climbing upstairs, you secure the front door and all the windows. You double and triple-check each one, making sure that no one else will get in or see you creeping around the house.

When you come to a halt at the top of the stairs, a sense of unease washes over you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. For a moment, you are convinced you hear something, akin to a whisper or a hushed footfall. Your heart races and your muscles tense, preparing for a biter that might be looming behind one of the closed doors. But it's a false alarm. A tiny rat scurries along the floor. You jump when the tiny creature brushes past your boots with its coarse fur.

As you step into the bedroom, the first thing you notice is the bed. It's been stripped of its mattress. The headboard is in a pitiful state, splintered and broken, a mere shadow of its former self. The rest of the room is sparse, furnished only with a chair and a dusty dresser, which you shove in front of the door. It serves as an extra layer of protection in case someone or something sneaks up on you in the dead of night.

Before settling down in the relative safety of a dim corner, you can't help but glance out of the window. Your eyes scan the backyard. You assure yourself that no biters are creeping around. Only then do you allow yourself a moment of relief. With a shaky hand, you pull the curtains closed, sealing yourself from the outside.

The world you are living in now has drastically changed, and you despise it. At first, you believed you might survive. The dead, or 'biters' as you've come to refer to them, were a constant source of terror. Their incessant low growling, the lifeless, pale gaze of their eyes, and their insatiable hunger terrified you. Yet, you weren't alone. You had a family: a mother, a father, and a brother. They made each day in this apocalypse easier to bear.

However, one time, your father was attacked. A biter cornered your mother, causing her to stumble, fall and freeze in terror. Without hesitation, your father shielded her from the dead man. Unarmed, without a gun or knife, he did his best to make the biter retreat. That day, he saved your mother but was bitten. Over the course of two nights, your father grew weaker and weaker. One fateful morning, you found him dead in the backyard. A knife embedded in his heart — the same one you now always carry with you — he killed himself since he knew what awaited him. He refused to become a dead walking man.

And yet, he turned into a biter. You were kneeling beside him when his eyes peeled open. Your father lunged towards you. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly as he tried to sink his teeth into your arm. Your mother was crying, begging you to leave your father alone. To keep her from intervening as you pulled the knife from your father's chest, your brother had to coddle her in his arms. You weren't conscious of your actions. But you knew you didn't want to die, nor did you want to see your brother or mother getting killed. So, with a shaky hand, you plunged the knife into your father's skull, causing his body to collapse on the ground.

That day, your father died twice. The last time he died, he taught you an important lesson — always aim for a biter's head.

You and your brother buried him together. Your mother, overwhelmed by grief and despair, stayed inside the house and locked herself in the bedroom. From then on, your world was forever altered. The constant sorrow that washed over you was like a tidal wave. A relentless pain that welled up in your heart and threatened to make you break down in tears at any given moment. But you swallowed all your emotions, including the terror that gripped you daily. You had to be strong, not just for yourself, but for your mother and your brother.

In a cruel twist of fate, you were separated from them during a terrifying encounter with a horde of biters. The days passed one by one. Slowly. No matter how long and hard you looked, you couldn't find them as if they had vanished into thin air. There was a possibility that they were dead and that the next time you will see them, they would be among the biters. Yet you refuse to even let such thoughts settle in your mind. You cling to the hope that when you find them, they will be alive and well.

In the early hours of the morning, noises emanating from downstairs wake you up. At first, you're disoriented, struggling to comprehend that you were indeed sleeping. But as the loud clamour persists and even increases in volume, any chance of falling back to sleep is eliminated.

Blinking, you try to adjust your eyes to the harsh brightness of the morning light. It filters through the dirty curtains. Your skin is freezing, and the cold is seeping into your bones. The fear that grips you. You don't dare to move and remain glued to the floor, sitting in the corner of the room. You listen to the commotion downstairs, your heart pounding in your chest. To combat the creeping chill, you move your fingers. This repetitive motion makes your blood flow through your veins again, providing a much-needed source of warmth to your otherwise icy body.

You know you must get out of this house before whoever is downstairs decides to explore the second floor and discovers you. Fear runs through your body like ice-cold water. You aren't a fighter; you have never been. Even outside, when you encounter a biter, it's a struggle for you. The prospect of having to fight the dead within the confined space of this home is terrifying. There is less room to manoeuvre. Escape could be more difficult, and a fight could end before it begins if a biter sneaks up on you. Your only other option is to risk jumping out of the window. But you've never been fond of heights. Not to mention the very real possibility you might injure yourself.

You pack your backpack. Casting a sweeping glance around the bedroom, you ensure nothing of value is left behind. Gathering your courage, you push aside the dresser that's been barricading the door. Your senses heighten as you leave the room and approach the staircase. You tiptoe down, gripping the railing. The sound of footsteps in the living room intensifies your alertness. You draw your knife, ready to stab any biter that comes into your peripheral view. Right now, there's no room for caution. Your survival instinct is in high gear because you're determined not to get bitten.

After rounding the corner, you press your body against the wall and peek inside the living room. Your eyes immediately land on a towering figure. His back is turned towards you, so he's unaware of your presence. You have never seen such a big-biter before, let alone fought one. However, he is blocking your only way out. If you want to exit the house, you need to reach the front door. You can't climb out through the windows because they are all bolted shut. And if you want to step a foot in the hallway, first you need to cross the living room. But it's impossible while the biter is still in there, and your only choice is to deal with him.

In your mind, you toy with the idea of tossing something across the floor. The noise might divert his attention long enough for you to sneak past. But this might not work. Your gut tells you that your only viable option, although terrifying, is to approach the biter from behind and plunge your knife into his skull before he can turn around and grab you.

At first, everything goes according to your plan. You are quiet and avoid drawing unwanted attention towards yourself. Yet, as you are about to strike, the biter spins around and lunges at you with an unexpected ferocity. Your knife slips out of your hand. It clatters onto the floor. You are knocked off balance, your feet betraying you on the deceptive carpet. The fall is harsh. Your back collides with the unforgiving ground. A loud groan of pain escapes your lips as you feel the shock of the impact.

You roll to the side, keeping your eyes, wide and filled with fear, fixated on the biter. You notice his face is concealed — he is wearing a skull mask. This means he can't bite you. The realisation strikes you like a bolt of lightning. It reignites the dwindling flame of hope inside of you and causes a surge of strength to flood your body.

The biter is relentless, showing an uncanny level of determination for a dead man. He charges at you, his hand extending as he tries to grab your hair. Despite still being on the floor, you push your body backwards, just barely evading his grasp. The carpet burns your exposed skin as you slide towards its edge. Your legs kick and slip on the dirty, coarse material.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you start swearing. Your eyes race across the floor, desperately searching for something, anything, to use as a weapon. Your heart pounds in your chest as you realise you don't know where your knife has landed.

As the string of curse words tumbles from your lips, the dead man, who had seemed unstoppable until now, suddenly comes to a complete halt. You, too, freeze. Your mind races as you try to figure out what made him take a step back from you. There is a brief moment of silence, but then you come back to your senses. This is your chance to flee. With a burst of adrenaline, you push past your fear and leap to your feet.

"Duck!" The man roars, his voice booming in the quiet. The sudden command almost throws you off balance and you stumble again. Nonetheless, without you realising it, your body reacts to the order, and you do as told.

He moves closer, his heavy footsteps making your heart pound even louder in your ears. You stop breathing, convinced that you've walked straight into his trap. But, to your surprise, he doesn't attack you. Instead, he lunges forward and stabs a biter that had crept up behind you.

Ever since you were left alone, you haven't seen a single other person. But now, you find yourself standing in front of another human being. It's a strange sensation. It's as if you've forgotten how to interact, how to react, and even how to contribute to a simple conversation. You're wary and apprehensive. You don't know who this man is, where he comes from, or what his intentions might be. Yet you can't bring yourself to leave. You want to at least say thank you before fleeing.

After all, he saved you. Even if he initially tried to cut you with your knife.

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itsswritten · 2 months

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when the sea calls for three | 1

Paring: Azriel x Reader x Eris

Word Count: 5K

Summary: In the aftermath of war, peace reigns over the realms of Prythian, but the delicate balance hangs in the hands of two unlikely mediators—You and Lucien. As the newly appointed Emissaries of Peace, your duty is clear: maintain alliances, foster understanding between courts, and navigate the intricate webs of fae politics.

But when fate deals an unexpected twist, revealing that you possess not one, but two mates, the tranquillity you've worked so hard to uphold is suddenly threatened. Caught between two males who refuse to share, you find yourself thrust into a precarious position, torn between duty and desire.

What will you do and who will you choose?

Intro | Masterlist

The Dawn's Meeting Chamber, served as the esteemed location for all court attended meetings. Through previous trials and tribulations, and now amidst the settled peace, its significance remained steadfast. Thesan, your own High Lord, presided with grace and authority, embodying the essence of a perfect host.

And despite this being a time of peace, alliances were still rocky. Dawn served as the perfect neutral territory.

Cushioned oak chairs were meticulously arranged in a circle around the reflection room, offering a comfortable seat for attendees. Positioned opposite each other on either side of the reflective pool, you and Lucien stood poised amidst the chairs. He occupied the twelfth hour, while you claimed the 6th, a silent yet powerful representation of the balance and harmony you held within your new positions.

Up until this moment, the weight of such responsibility had never rested upon your shoulders. For years, you had drifted through various roles within the Dawn Court, from the serene halls of the Library, the bustling markets of the city and the melodies of the theatre. Even during the war, Thesan had recognised your unique talents and utilised you on the border, a role that had never quite settled comfortably within you.

As a soldier in the midst of conflict, you had often felt like a square peg in a round hole, grappling with a sense of unease that gnawed at your core. It was as if you were searching for something, yet never quite finding where you belonged. Perhaps it was because you were different, your nature straddling the line between worlds in a way that defied easy categorisation.

As much as you passed for High Fae, it was clear to those who truly listened, that wasn’t the case.

So when Lucien came to you with his proposition, a plea wrapped in a promise of purpose and significance, you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him. For the first time in your life, an opportunity had arisen that held the potential to make a tangible difference, to offer a sense of fulfilment, a sense of belonging.

A subtle exchange of nods and smiles passed between you and your friend. With a confident stance and a lifted chin, you prepared to address the esteemed gathering.

As the chamber filled with representatives from the solar courts, the seasonal courts, and the human alliance, a palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air. You and Lucien exchanged respectful greetings with the High Lord and Ladies in attendance, bowing your heads to their esteemed positions.

Once everyone was settled, Lucien stepped forward to take his place at the head of the meeting, assuming the role of leader with poise and authority. With a nod of approval from Thesan, the meeting commenced, setting the stage for discussions that would hopefully shape the future of the fae lands and beyond.

Lucien’s voice rang out, commanding the attention of all present. You felt the swell of pride fill your chest. That was your best friend. Lucien had been selected by all courts for this role, and you couldn’t envision anyone better.

A kind male, with a huge heart and smart mind. He was perfect for this.

"We are here today in the first allied meeting of peace since the cessation of hostilities," he began, his tone measured yet commanding. "It is a testament to our collective efforts and determination that we gather here today in pursuit of peace and prosperity for all."

Pausing briefly to allow his words to resonate, Lucien continued, his gaze sweeping across the assembled dignitaries. "This is a pivotal moment for our land, a time to address any lingering concerns, to foster open dialogue, and to reaffirm our commitments to cooperation and understanding."

He gestured with open arms towards the reflective pool at the centre of the chamber, "I invite each of you to speak freely, to raise any issues or grievances regarding borders, trade agreements, or any other matters that may impact the stability of our realms."

Lucien had set the tone for the meeting, and you gave him a proud smile in return when his eyes flickered over you. You, along with Lucien and the courts were shaping the course of the future. A better future for everyone.

You had never been a part of these meetings before, but from what Lucien had shared, they usually didn’t go well. Before the most recent peace treaty, Lucien had briefed you on the usual hostility that hung in these meetings. Hostility so rife, that Lucien’s own brother, Eris, had almost met his end at the hands of the Shadowsinger.

A male who you had spotted as soon as he had entered the chamber. How could anyone miss him? His features were chiselled and angular, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline that clenched as he listened to the conversations of the room. He demanded a dark ethereal beauty that was all encompassing. You were smart enough not to let your eyes linger too long when he first arrived, but now while everyone was distracted by debate you took a moment to take him in.

Azriel stood tall and imposing behind his High Lord and Lady. You and Lucien had restricted how many attendees were allowed in these new meetings. High Lords and Ladies of the court were allowed to bring up to two attendees, whether that be scholars, soldiers, courtiers. Whoever they deemed fit. These were meetings of peace, there was no need to flex muscle and power.

It seemed the Night Court had selected their Spymaster for attendance with them today; his presence spoke volumes of the Night Court's cautious approach to diplomacy. Especially after what Lucien had shared about the Shadowsingers unrestrained actions of the last meeting.

His dark hair fell in sleek short waves, framing his face. The black strands were a stark contrast to those hazel eyes. Beside him, his shadows lingered, a constant and enigmatic presence at his side. Though you had grown accustomed to their role as messengers in your correspondence, it was a whole other experience seeing them now in the flesh, accompanying their master.

You were aware of his delicate relationship with Lucein, the crossfires they had found themselves in regarding Lucien’s mate. And although you’re not entirely sure what went down, the repercussions left neither males fostering any type of relationship with Elain.

Azriel’s expression was inscrutable, much like his earlier cryptic letters you had exchanged with him over the past two months. Hard to decipher.

Perhaps it was your natural charm, or your way with words though, that managed to entice the Shadowsinger to show a different side. It was exactly 2 weeks of correspondence before the tone started to change.

Before officially taking on the role of Emissary, Lucien had to request approval for you to join him. In the meantime, you took on the difficult task of helping Spring Court. Those earlier weeks were dire, Tamlin would hide in his vine covered house and you were left to pick up the pieces best you could. Surprisingly it was Azriel’s letters that you received the most, him wanting daily updates on Tamlin and the progress of the court. No doubt, his own High Lord breathing down his neck for all information regarding his mate's ex lover.

Your notes were always polite and concise, but when writing to Lucien you often signed them off in jest. And after a particularly depressing update on the Spring Court, you signed at the end.

Send prayers, I worry I won’t even make it till Solstice.

You signed with a scribble of a sad face, knowing Lucien would read your sarcasm well. However, thanks to the Shadowsigner’s meddlesome shadows, Lucien’s and Azriels letters somehow got swapped. So when you were expecting some witty remark from Lucien, it was in fact Azriel that took you by surprise.

I worry you won’t too…and what a shame that would be.

It was a taunting reply, one you hadn’t expected but made you smirk all the same.

A shame indeed… but do you doubt my capabilities, Shadowsinger? I’ll have you know, I am to be the new Emissary of Peace.

I know exactly who you are, y/n.

That had just been the beginning of your playful mockery, and there was a small part of you that felt guilty for looking forward to his messages so much. Especially considering who he was to Lucien. But you couldn’t help but reply. Spring Court had been so dreary, it was sometimes the only thing to lighten up your day.

You were intrigued to hear Azriel’s voice, hear what the ripples of his vocal cords would reveal. What did your pen pal sound like? What else would you discover about the Shadowsinger, now his court resided under you?

༄

Your eyes carefully swept over the other attendees, absorbing the nuances of their discussions and concerns. Kallias's voice carried across the chamber as he delved into the intricacies and concerns of trade agreements between Summer. His worries about the quality of products traversing such diverse climates were evident, but you knew how desperately Summer needed the trade.

Tarquin was the youngest in the room beside Feyre– the Night Court's High Lady.

The first High Lady ever you reminded yourself.

With Summer now falling under your jurisdiction, you couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy for the younger ruler, still finding his footing amidst the complexities of court politics. He had never even ruled during a time of peace when the only concerns were whether his goods would freeze as soon as they crossed the Winter border.

This is where you came in. This was your job. Maintaining vital exchanges for the prosperity of all involved.

As Kallias concluded his remarks, you chose that moment to interject, your voice cutting through the air with quiet authority. "You've made such a valid point, Kallias," you acknowledged, drawing the attention of the room toward you for the first time.

Your voice was soft and gentle, yet filled the room with a warmth that perhaps these meetings had always lacked.

“I know it’s been a long time since trade as ran between the courts, and we want to make this transition as smooth and successful for everyone”

Your gaze shifted to Helion, the High Lord of Day, a thoughtful expression on his face as he observed you. "I wonder if this is something Day could help with," you continued, laying out your proposal with careful deliberation.

“Solan, your spell weaver has quite the talent for weathered charms. His expertise is extraordinary, I’ve seen his work” You sung the Day’s residents praises brightly.

You had met Solan many years ago when he collaborated with Nuan on one of her ingenious inventions.

“I believe he has the capabilities to create such a charm that could assist with smooth tradings and deliveries, across all the seasonal courts”

To win the favour of this notion, it would have to benefit not only Summer.

Helion met your gaze, his eyes betraying a hint of intrigue as he considered your suggestion. "You are correct," he conceded, nodding in agreement. "Solan could create such a spell. But of course at a cost."

“Of course,” you smiled. You wouldn’t expect anything less.

Tarquin's smile was genuine but soft as he responded, "That is something Summer would be happy to discuss."

“As would Spring” Tamlin spoke. A quietness settled after, his transgressions still creating an uncomfortable tension.

Your eyes flickered to the familiar auburn hair of Eris, someone you had not seen in years. He merely nodded reluctantly, almost as if he detested how smooth that had been.

“I will speak with Solan, and be in touch shortly, gentleman” Helion said with grace, sending you a smile and a soft wink.

Turning back to Kallias, you addressed his concerns directly, offering the solution. "With Solan's expertise, we can ensure that shipments between courts are unaffected by weather conditions," you assured him.

"Send me a quote Helion '' Kallias nodded beside his wife, mate, Vivnae– the second High Lady in history. “As long as the goods maintain their quality, I’m happy to move forward with confidence."

A sense of relief washed over you at the resolution. You were smooth, decisive and quick.

༄

As your perceptive gaze traversed the room, meticulously dissecting the nuances of each attendee's demeanour, listening to their breaths, smacking of lips and the clicking on tongues. It all revealed so much. You could hear it within the unspoken.

Your eyes abruptly came to a halt upon falling into a familiar amber gaze—the penetrating stare of Eris Vanserra.

His eyes locked on yours like a hawk. A tight smirk graced Eris's lips as his gaze roved over your form with a predatory intensity, sending a subtle shiver down your spine that you quickly suppressed.

You couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in his appearance—the shorter hair that framed his features in a way that suited him, a departure from the longer locks that had once adorned his head. You wondered if he had cut his hair before or after he had killed his father? Or had he cut his hair for that reason alone?

A new chapter. Cut the dead weight. Just like he’d cut down Beron.

To kill a parent. To kill your own father. Not that Beron didn’t have it coming, it was rightfully deserved but you wondered what toll that would have on someone. You knew of the scars Beron had left on his sons, even if they hadn’t told you. You had always heard under their words. And you hoped now, that they could heal and find some semblance of peace with their monster of a father gone.

Memories flooded back of a time when your mother would take you for playdates in Autumn. Eris along with his brothers would often tease you. It was because of those moments you and Lucien had gotten so close. Seeking unity in one another when hiding together as children from his older brother's taunts.

Eris was the kinder one out of the pack, at least back then. Perhaps kind wasn’t the right word to choose, but he was indifferent to you. He stood out as a somewhat mitigating force. Being the eldest and already grown, his words always carried a sharp edge, laced with venomous undertones, however there was a distinct lack of malice directed at you. Eris would often intercede his brothers teasing with biting remarks, questioning the rationale behind their actions when they would corner you and Lucein.

I didn’t realise you were so weak that you had to pick on our baby brother and his little friend.

Perhaps if you weren’t so obsessed with Lucien and his little girlfriend you might have figured how to channel fire by now.

Why do you always bother her, do you like her? Should I tell Father about your little crush on the girl from Dawn?

His words were often curt and abrasive, but they never failed to disrupt the relentless onslaught of ridicule. You were young then, your ability had only reared its head in your early adulthood. But you wondered what you might have noticed within his words if you had been able to hear.

Your loyalties always lay with Lucien, but as much as you hated to admit it- you couldn't deny the undeniable allure of the eldest Vanserra brother. Sure, Lucien was undeniably beautiful, that was a fact you didn't need reminding of. But there was an enigmatic quality to Eris that had always intrigued you. In your early adulthood, you often caught yourself searching for the eldest Vanserra brother during your visits to Lucien, a secret desire you hoped Lucien never caught wind of.

You pulled your eyes away, not allowing him the satisfaction of noticing any indifference on you. You honed into the rest of the discussions, aiding Lucien when needed to keep conversations moving freely and light.

The new peace treaty between the courts and the humans was still fresh and hung delicately in the air. Despite the fervent desire for discussions to revolve solely around diplomatic relations and fostering harmony, there were inevitably topics that couldn't be skirted around.

Rhysand had taken charge of ensuring that any lingering remnants of former enemies were swiftly disbanded. It appeared that, for the time being, any remaining threats had retreated into the shadows.

Good. You hoped they withered away in their caves. The resentment you harboured against the people who had caused your home, your land so much pain was something you were sure everyone in this room could relate to.

With a successful conclusion the meeting came to an end, leaving you with ample opportunity to mingle among the courts and assess the collective mood and gain insight to how this inaugural gathering had been perceived. A quick look at Lucien told you everything you needed to know, and you both swiftly walked in opposite directions to begin addressing the courts independently.

Tamlin was first on your left. And you offered him a respectful bow and small smile.

“Heard you’re abandoning me” there was that bitterness that always hung on his words nowadays. However the depressive lull of his tone wasn’t as prevalent as it once was.

“Tamlin” you spoke softly, with an endearing look. “Your court is about to embark on it’s renewal, something you should be tremendously proud of.”

His features were set in a tight expression, lines of frustration etched into his brow as he regarded you with a mixture of wariness and scepticism. His once noble visage now bore the marks of weariness and resentment, a shadow of the High Lord he had once been.

You continued “But with Lucien once being your emissary, we felt he had the best expertise when it came to resettling some of your residents, I’m sure seeing a familiar face will be reassuring to them” Tamlin's response was guarded, his jaw clenched as he absorbed your words. He couldn’t deny you were right.

You usually always were.

"Of course, I'm only a correspondence away if you truly need my help," you reassured him, reaching forward to give his forearm a delicate squeeze. "Don't be a stranger, Tamlin."

With a reluctant nod, Tamlin conceded to your words, his expression softening ever so slightly as he bid you farewell and winnowed away.

That went better than expected, you thought. Grateful that Tamlin’s days of tantrums seemed to be over, but you did worry for him and his court. You hoped he and Lucien would be able to work through their problems together and get Spring flourishing once more.

You knew of the friction between Tamlin and other courts, particularly Night. It was not lost on you. Lucien had provided insight into the underlying conflicts and grievances, filling you in on the gaps that gossip hadn’t shared. While you understood the ramifications of Tamlin's actions, you couldn't help but feel a sense of compassion for the Spring Court and its inhabitants.

You wanted to see Spring thrive once more, to provide a safe haven for those who had spent their lives within its borders. This was a goal both you and Lucein shared.

As Tarquin approached with a radiant smile, his white hair flowing gracefully over his blue and gold attire, you returned the gesture with a respectful bow of your head. His presence exuded warmth and vitality, his rich brown skin glowing under the gentle rays of dawn that filtered into the room.

"I believe you'll be taking care of Summer," he remarked, his smile widening as he acknowledged your new role.

"Tarquin, Varian," you greeted, inclining your head towards both him and his attendee with a bow. "I'm looking forward to supporting you both, and I have to say… I am a lover of the sun and sea, so I'm sure my visits to Summer will be my weekly highlight," you added with a light smirk, hoping to sweeten the interaction with a touch of flattery.

"I hope that will be the case,” Tarquin replied warmly, his tone filled with genuine enthusiasm. As he took your hand, you felt a rush of warmth as he pressed a gentle kiss upon it. “I look forward to our relationship and seeing what we can do together for my court, and of course for all of Prythian," he bid you farewell, and with a nod to Varian, they both winnowed away.

You didn’t need to rely on your ability to hear the unspoken to understand what that was. It was evident in the way Tarquin looked at you. A genuine fondness in his eyes, a warmth that spoke volumes. It was clear that he liked you…and attention from a handsome High Lord was not something you were opposed to.

You felt a gaze and you looked back gently to see Lucien giving you a knowing look with a slight smirk. He’d seen the interaction then. You’re sure he’d have something snarky to say later about it.

༄

You were left with the looming shadowy energy that had been in the corner of the room – the Night Court. Azriel was to greet you first, stepping away as his High Lord and Lady were engrossed in a conversation with Winter.

You turned to the Shadowsinger, your hand outstretched in a very human gesture of greeting, a deliberate choice made by you and Lucien to foster bridges with both the Fae and humans. Adopting some of their mannerisms wouldn’t hurt. Plus, Azriel was your equal; you would not bow to him.

Azriel hesitated for a moment, a fleeting pause that had you searching for its cause. But that reluctance dissolved as you felt his large hand envelop yours. You felt the jagged edges of lines on his palm pressing against your soft skin, scars that covered every inch of his hand, that had you curious to what had caused such a thing. Without glancing down, your eyes remained locked on the Shadowsinger's gaze as you gently squeezed his hand back in a firm shake.

“It’s nice to finally put a name to a face,” Azriel spoke as your hands parted.

“I hope I don’t disappoint,” you teased, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Perhaps it was the familiarity that had grown in these past weeks that allowed such a remark to escape.

A glint of something unfamiliar flickered in Azriel’s eye, his lips quirking into a slight smirk. But before you could hear his words, you sensed the powerful presence of another, and you swiftly turned to bow to the Night Court's High Lord and Lady.

“Rhysand, it’s been a long time. It’s good to see you again,” you greeted warmly, recalling brief encounters at events when you were both much younger, before he’d even ascended to High Lord.

Rhys nodded in agreement before introducing you to Feyre.

“Your reputation precedes you,” you remarked, turning to the High Lady, who returned your smile.

Cursebreaker. Cauldron-blessed. High Lady of the Night Court.

“As does yours. Lucien said he was enlisting the help of a trusted friend. Glad to see another female in the room,” Feyre replied, her tone light and welcoming.

“Ah, yes.” You gave a knowing nod to the outdated misogynistic rules of the land “I have a long-term plan. Just give it a year, and I believe it will be us females who dominate these meetings,” you joked playfully.

“Now that is something I would like to see,” Rhys teased, nudging his mate playfully.

Feyre laughed lightly before continuing, her voice carrying a warm tone. “We’ve been told we fall under your jurisdiction now.”

You nodded, acknowledging the shift. “I will be splitting my time equally across the courts under my care.”

“I’m glad,” Feyre replied, her gaze thoughtful. “Azriel said you were quite adept in your work. You've apparently got Spring Court back up and running”

You smiled at the mention of Azriel's appraisal. You noticed him shuffling slightly on his feet at his mention, his shadows swirling around him in an almost teasing manner “Nice to know someone was singing my praises,” you quipped, but you heard the unspoken words of Feyre’s remark.

You knew of her time in Spring, a time she was definitely not fond of. But you could hear in her words that she was digging for something. “Sure, me and Tamlin have been able to collaborate for the renewal of his court. I’m pleased it has been so successful, to finally have it’s residents returning home”

Whether that was the response Feyre was hoping for you’re not sure, but she merely nodded her head. You excused yourself from their company to finally greet the flickering energy that had been heating it’s way across the room to you. You stood before Eris, his imposing presence overshadowed by his two brothers snickering behind him as you offered a respectful bow.

“Eris.” you greeted respectfully. There was a part of you that had been hesitant to look after Autumn, however you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them under Lucien.

Eris merely smirked, his demeanour suggesting he relished the moment you had to bow before him. He reached out, his touch warm yet firm as he grasped your wrist and examined your sleeve with a critical eye.

“Leaves, really? I thought flames best represented my court,” he remarked, his tone teasing.

You withdrew your hand quickly, his touch feeling oddly inappropriate in the formal setting. It served as a stark reminder that regardless of your newfound title, you would always be seen as his little brother's best friend.

Swallowing hard, you met his gaze with narrowed eyes, defending your choice of attire. “Autumn has always symbolised a transitional time within the seasons, a new beginning. I felt it best represented the fresh start we are embarking on. I thought it mirrored the new chapter you seek as well.”

Eris’s brothers rolled their eyes behind him, but you held your ground, unyielding in your stance. Eris couldn’t refute your words; you had spoken the truth. With Beron’s reign over, Eris was indeed ushering in a new era for his court.

“You and your pretty words…” Eris mused, his tone bordering on slight admiration.

“I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know your court falls under my jurisdiction,” you announced confidently.

“Oh good, do we get you for two months as well? Or do you only whore yourself off to Tamlin?” one of Eris’s brothers interjected with a crude remark. Eris shot his brother with a deathly reprimanding glance that shut him up instantly.

You bit back a retort, knowing that maintaining composure was paramount. Especially in this setting.

Instead you would use your pretty words and smart mouth.

“I didn’t realise Autumn felt neglected. I’ll make a note,” you replied evenly. “I will be visiting Autumn for two days every week, if that suffices. But if your court is in dire need of additional support, I can inquire with the other courts about allocating more time to you.”

“That will not be needed,” Eris replied curtly, cutting off any further discussion on the matter. He would not have any insinuation that his court needed support, that his reign was weak.

That was exactly the response you had expected. You gave him a knowing look, his stare challenging yours as a small smirk played on his lips. He was enjoying this you realised, enjoying your company, enjoying the challenge you presented. And as he gently licked his bottom lip, his gaze still prowling over you, you realised he was enjoying what he was seeing too.

As you stood in the midst of the exchange with Eris, you noticed a slight movement out of the corner of your eye. Sensing the shift in energy, you turned slightly to glance over your shoulder, finding the piercing gaze of the Shadowsinger fixed upon Eris. His eyes bore into Eris with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, an unmistakable venom simmering beneath the surface.

You were aware of their previous altercation, but you hadn’t realised how deep their hatred ran.

The Shadowsinger didn’t like any of the Vanserra brothers then– noted.

Eris, catching the subtle exchange, rolled his eyes lightly, a small huff escaping his lips, barely noticeable to anyone but you.

"It'll be nice to see you among the autumn leaves again, y/n," Eris purred with an air of indifference before he and his brothers swiftly winnowed away. However for a split second you swore you saw it. When his amber eyes fell back to yours, you swore you saw that kindness he always kept hidden.

༄

As the last of the attendees left the meeting chamber, you and Lucien shared a glance, a mixture of relief and satisfaction evident in both your expressions.

"I think that went well," you remarked, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Lucien nodded in agreement, linking his arm with yours. "Better than expected, considering the diverse personalities we had to deal with." he chuckled with an eye roll.

You nodded in agreement, smiling softly with a playful glint in your eye. "Looks like the real work begins now, eh?"

Lucien laughed heartily, falling into step beside you as you made your way out of the chamber.

“Make sure you’re being careful though” Lucien said in a moment of seriousness. You tilted your head to look at him, trying to understand what he meant in that.

Was it your interaction with Tarquin, or something else entirely?

"I’m always careful Lucie” You replied, offering a reassuring smile before pivoting back. “Let the peacekeeping begin." You declared, your fist pumping the air with determination.

Lucien couldn't resist a playful jab, muttering under his breath, "Why does this feel more like we're babysitting everyone?"

Laughter bubbled between the two of you as you exited the meeting chamber, ready to embrace the challenges of maintaining peace and unity among the courts.

How hard could peacekeeping be anyway?

Next Part >>

a/n: Sorry this took so long, and again I'm still setting the role and relationships up so it's gonna be a slow burn- but bare with! It'll be worth it <3 would love to know your thoughts on it all! Enjoyyyy - Lottie xx

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #eris x azriel #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #azriel x eris

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xxspringmelodyxx · 2 months

Text

Why Her and Not Me?

Gojo Satoru x F.Reader x Geto Suguru (Angst) Part IV

Hello my lovely readers! I am back with part IV, so I’m just gonna cut to the chase and let you all read! Thank you all for the support, I really appreciate you all so much <3333 Now, without further ado…Enjoy~

Masterlist

A few more weeks had slipped by, each day bringing Toru closer to the edge of his sanity. The once familiar rhythm of his life had been disrupted, thrown into disarray by the growing distance between you and him. No matter how hard he tried to push aside his feelings, they continued to gnaw at him, a relentless reminder of what he had lost.

Every passing day seemed to deepen the void that had formed in his heart, leaving him feeling hollow and incomplete. The ache of longing grew more pronounced with each passing moment, a constant presence that refused to be ignored. And as much as he tried to distract himself with work and other activities, his thoughts inevitably circled back to you, to the warmth of your smile and the comfort of your presence.

But it wasn't just the absence of your friendship that tormented him; it was the way you seemed to be drifting further and further away, drawn to Suguru like a moth to a flame. Every shared laugh, every whispered conversation, served as a painful reminder of the bond you shared with Suguru, a connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

Toru's frustration boiled beneath the surface, simmering with a volatile intensity that threatened to consume him. He couldn't understand why you were pulling away from him, why you seemed to prefer Suguru's company over his own. Was it something he had done? Something he had said? The questions swirled in his mind, each one adding fuel to the fire of his insecurity and self-doubt.

And as time continued to move forward, Toru's relationship with Osaka began to move backwards. It was becoming evident that their relationship was starting to suffer under the weight of his internal turmoil. He found himself growing increasingly distant and aloof, unable to fully commit to their relationship. He couldn’t, not when he felt his heart quickly being tethered to you. Their once easy bond had been replaced by tension and unease, their conversations strained and stilted.

Osaka, sensing the growing distance between them, had tried to reach out to Toru, to bridge the gap that had formed between them. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to break through the wall he had erected around his heart. It was as if he was a million miles away, lost in a world of his own making. And Toru felt horrible for it.

His guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders, a constant companion that refused to be ignored. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was betraying Osaka, the girl who had stood by his side through thick and thin during all of this. She didn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire of his internal struggle, yet he couldn't deny the growing chasm that had formed between them.

Every moment spent with Osaka was tinged with a sense of guilt and remorse, a nagging reminder of the pain he was causing her. He could see the hurt in her eyes, the confusion and frustration that mirrored his own. And despite his best efforts to reassure her, to convince her that everything was okay, he knew deep down that their relationship was crumbling beneath the weight of his unresolved feelings.

But try as he might, Toru couldn't bring himself to end things with Osaka, couldn't find the words to shatter her heart into a million pieces. The thought of hurting her, of breaking her trust, filled him with a profound sense of shame and self-loathing. He had promised to be there for her, to love and cherish her with all his heart, and yet here he was, torn between two worlds, unable to give her the love and devotion she deserved.

And as the guilt gnawed at him, Toru couldn't help but wonder if he was doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. Was he destined to hurt the people he cared about most, to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake? The thought filled him with a profound sense of despair, a fear that he would never be able to escape the cycle of pain and regret that seemed to define his life.

Yet, despite his fear and uncertainty, Toru knew that he couldn't continue to live in limbo, caught between the past and the present. He needed to make a choice, to either let go of his feelings for you and move forward with Osaka, or risk everything for a chance at true happiness.

But amidst the darkness that threatened to consume him, there was a glimmer of hope, a flicker of light that refused to be extinguished. It was the memory of you, of the warmth of your smile and the kindness in your eyes. You were his anchor in a sea of uncertainty, the one constant in his ever-changing world.

Despite his best efforts to push you away, to bury his feelings beneath a facade of indifference, Toru couldn't help but be drawn back to you. It was as if an invisible force was pulling him towards you, a magnetic attraction that defied reason and logic. And as much as he tried to deny it, to convince himself that he could live without you, he knew deep down that he was fighting a losing battle.

With each passing day, his feelings for you grew stronger, more insistent, until they consumed his every thought and action. He found himself longing for the sound of your voice, the warmth of your touch, the comfort of your presence by his side. But it seemed like you were doing your best to avoid him at every turn, adding to his frustration and confusion.

No matter how hard he tried to close the growing divide between you, to repair the fractured bond that had once held you together, it felt like you were slipping further and further away. And as Toru grappled with the realization that he might be losing you for good, he couldn't help but feel a sense of desperation and despair creeping in.

For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to entertain the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he had pushed you away too far. And as he contemplated the daunting prospect of facing a future without you by his side, Toru knew that he would have to confront his demons head-on if he ever hoped to find the redemption he so desperately craved. And he needed to do something about it now before it actually is too late.

——

As Suguru reflected on the past few months, he couldn’t help but marvel at how swiftly his bond with you had transformed. What had begun as a casual friendship had bloomed into something far more profound, a connection that seemed to defy explanation.

He found himself irresistibly drawn to you, captivated by the melody of your laughter, the radiance of your smile, and the sparkle in your eyes that hinted at hidden depths. Each moment spent in your company felt like a stolen treasure, precious and fleeting yet infinitely valuable.

He absolutely cherished and loved the way you laughed at his jokes, the way you listened intently to his stories, hanging on to his every word as if it were the most important thing in the world. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced before, a sense of belonging and connection that filled him with joy and contentment. It was one of the main things about you that was unique compared to everyone else he’s known.

Of course, Suguru had always known there was something special about you. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he felt a spark light up between you two. It was as if fate had brought you into his life, weaving your presence into the fabric of his very being.

In the past, he found himself often watching you from afar, admiring your grace, your kindness, and the way you lit up the room with just your smile. After that, it didn’t take too long before Suguru found himself falling head over heels for you, unable to shake the feeling that you were meant to be together.

However, Suguru kept his emotions carefully concealed, fearing that they would jeopardize the friendship he cherished so dearly. He had convinced himself that it was enough to simply be near you, to bask in the warmth of your presence without expecting anything more.

And despite his growing feelings for you, Suguru had always been aware of your connection with Toru. He had seen the way you looked at him, the spark of affection in your eyes whenever he was near. And knowing that you liked Toru, Suguru had chosen to keep his feelings to himself, burying them deep within his heart where they could never be discovered.

Before Toru shattered your heart with his confession about loving someone else, Suguru maintained a careful distance, knowing that being close to you would only intensify his own feelings of longing and heartache. He watched from afar as you navigated your feelings for Toru, silently suffering as he witnessed the love and admiration etched on your face whenever you spoke of Toru.

However, he wouldn’t just straight up ignore you. He could never do that to someone like you. Whenever you needed comforting, Suguru made a conscious effort to be there for you, offering a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to lean on whenever you needed it. He knew that his own feelings had to take a backseat to your happiness, and he was willing to endure the agony of unrequited love if it meant easing your burden, even if just a little.

But when news of Toru's and your situation finally reached Suguru's ears, it was as if a floodgate had been opened, unleashing a torrent of emotions he had long kept buried. The sight of you, heartbroken and vulnerable, stirred something deep within him, igniting a fierce determination to protect you from further harm.

It was in that moment that Suguru made a silent vow to himself: to do whatever it took to help you heal, to be the rock you could lean on in your time of need. And as he took the initiative to reach out to you, offering his unwavering support and understanding, he couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, this would be the beginning of something more.

———

Suguru found himself unable to resist the urge to reach out to you. He knew that you had been pretty busy the past few days with work and all, but all he wanted to do was to see your face and hear your voice.

So, with a sense of determination burning in his chest, Suguru picked up his phone and sent you a message, inviting you to join him for a walk in the park. He knew that the tranquil beauty of nature had a way of soothing the soul, and he hoped that spending time together in such a serene setting would help distract you from your work.

As Suguru awaited your response, he felt a familiar tug of nerves fluttering in his chest. As he stood beneath the swaying branches of the park's trees, Suguru couldn't help but wonder how you would react to his invitation. Would you be intrigued by the idea of an impromptu outing, or would you see it as nothing more than a casual gesture between friends? Either way, he was determined to make the most of their time together, cherishing every moment spent in your company.

When your reply came, filled with warmth and gratitude, Suguru felt a surge of relief wash over him. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of eager anticipation as he prepared to meet you.

About 10 minutes had passed and not even a second later, Suguru read a message from you saying you were at the park. He texted you his exact location, showing you where he was.

When you arrived, Suguru was struck once again by just how breathtakingly beautiful you were, your smile lighting up the evening air like a beacon of hope. He couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as he watched you approach, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement.

"Hey, you," he greeted you, his voice soft and warm as he reached out to take your hand in his. "I'm so glad you could make it."

As you fell into step beside him, Suguru felt a sense of peace settle over him, as if the world had suddenly slowed to a gentle rhythm just for the two of you. The park was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the air alive with the sound of birdsong and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

For a while, the two of you simply walked in companionable silence, content to lose yourselves in the beauty of the world around you. Though, it didn’t take long before you two decided to situate yourselves somewhere nice to relax.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the park, Suguru and you found yourselves seated on a weathered wooden bench, bathed in the warm glow of the fading daylight. The air was filled with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets, lending an air of tranquility to the bustling city around you.

"You know," Suguru began, his voice soft and gentle, "I've always loved coming to this park. It's like an oasis of calm in the middle of all this chaos."

You nodded in agreement, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, it's definitely one of my favorite places to escape to when life gets a bit overwhelming."

Suguru agreed, taking in every second.

For Suguru, every moment spent with you felt like a precious gift, a fleeting glimpse of paradise in an otherwise ordinary world. He couldn't help but be drawn to you, captivated by the gentle curve of your smile and the sparkle in your eyes. And as you sat side by side, the distance between you seemed to shrink until there was nothing left but the space you shared.

"I'm really glad you invited me to come here today," you said, your voice soft and sincere. "It's been a while since I've just sat and enjoyed the beauty of nature."

Suguru smiled, feeling a warmth spreading through his chest at your words. "I'm glad you came too. It's always better when you're here."

You sighed contentedly, leaning back against the bench and closing your eyes for a moment, relishing in the peace and quiet of the park. Suguru glanced at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he saw the light outline your beautiful figure.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he continued to bask in your presence.

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it really is.” You finished, clueless to the fact that he was actually talking about you and not the scenery around you two.

For a while, the two of you sat in companionable silence, lost in your own thoughts as the world continued to spin around you. But eventually, Suguru broke the silence, his voice hesitant as he spoke.

“You know,” he began, his words slow and deliberate, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. About life, and where I’m headed, and… well, everything, really.”

You turned to look at him, curiosity shining in your eyes. “Oh? And what kind of things have you been thinking about?”

Suguru shrugged, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. “Oh, you know, just… stuff. Like, where I see myself in five years, and what I want out of life, and… yeah.”

You nodded, sensing that there was more to Suguru’s words than he was letting on. “It sounds like you’ve been doing some serious soul-searching.”

Suguru chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you could say that. I guess I’ve just been feeling a bit lost lately, you know? Like I’m drifting aimlessly through life, without any real direction or purpose.”

You reached out and placed a comforting hand on Suguru’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I think a lot of people feel that way sometimes. Life can be so unpredictable, and it’s easy to feel like you’re just along for the ride.”

Suguru smiled and nodded at you, his eyes shimmering with love and admiration for you.

“Yeah, exactly. That was when I realized,” Suguru said, his voice tinged with a hint of self-deprecation, “that maybe it’s okay to not have everything figured out. Maybe it’s okay to just take things one day at a time and see where life takes me.”

As Suguru finished speaking, his words lingered in the air, carrying with them a sense of introspection and hope. You took a moment to absorb his sentiments, letting them sink in before offering your response.

"You’re right," you replied, nodding thoughtfully. "Life can be overwhelming when we try to plan every step of the way. Sometimes, it's about embracing the uncertainty and trusting that things will fall into place in their own time."

Suguru's eyes lit up with understanding, his smile widening at your words. "Exactly," he agreed, a sense of relief washing over him. "It's like...learning to dance in the rain instead of waiting for the storm to pass. Finding joy in the journey, even when the destination is unclear." He finished, chuckling to himself at his metaphor.

You couldn't help but smile at Suguru's metaphor, touched by the wisdom in his words. "I like that analogy," you admitted, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "It's a reminder to appreciate the beauty in life's unexpected moments, to find happiness in the midst of chaos."

The two of you sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of Suguru’s and your words hanging in the air between you. But eventually, Suguru spoke again, his voice soft and vulnerable.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, too,” he admitted, his gaze flicking nervously to meet yours. “About our friendship, and how much it means to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at Suguru’s words, a warmth spreading through your chest at the sincerity in his voice. “I feel the same way, Suguru. You mean a lot to me, too.”

Suguru smiled, a genuine smile that reached all the way to his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. Because, honestly, I don’t know what I would do without you, Y/n. You’ve been such an important part of my life, and I don’t ever want to lose that.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reached out and took Suguru’s hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. “You won’t, Suguru. I promise.”

There was a warmth in your gaze, a kindness in your smile, that made Suguru's heart swell with emotion. In that moment, he knew that he had found someone truly special, someone he could share his deepest thoughts and feelings with without fear of judgment or rejection.

As the air crackled with anticipation, you couldn't help but feel the intensity of the moment washing over you. Slowly leaning in closer to Suguru, the distance between you seemed to vanish, melting away in the warmth of your shared breath. His proximity sent a shiver of excitement coursing through you, each exhale drawing you nearer to him.

In that fleeting moment, the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. Your lips hovered mere inches apart, the tantalizing promise of a kiss hanging between you like a delicate thread. The anticipation built to a fever pitch, your heart pounding in your chest as you teetered on the edge of something monumental.

Caught in the throes of desire, neither of you dared to move, the magnetic pull between you holding you captive in its grasp. The electricity in the air crackled with unrestrained passion, igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing second.

In that suspended moment, it felt as though the entire universe had conspired to bring you together, binding you to each other in a dance as old as time itself. And as you stood on the precipice of possibility, you couldn't help but wonder what lay on the other side, yearning to bridge the final gap that separated you from Suguru's waiting lips.

”Y/n…” Suguru said, his voice barely above a whisper as he felt heat rise to his face from the closeness.

But just as the tension reached its peak, the sound of footsteps approaching shattered the spell, jolting you both back to reality. Startled, you pulled away from each other, turning to see Shoko and Hime emerging from the shadows with curious expressions on their faces.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Shoko said with a mischievous grin, “but we couldn’t help but notice you two lost in your own little world over here.”

Hime nodded in agreement, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, we thought we’d come over and see what all the fuss was about.”

Blushing furiously, you exchanged a sheepish glance with Suguru, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and amusement at being caught in such a vulnerable moment. As Shoko and Hime joined you, the four of you fell into easy conversation, the interruption quickly forgotten as laughter filled the air.

Though the moment had been interrupted, the connection between you and Suguru remained palpable, lingering like an echo in the air.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first stars began to twinkle in the evening sky, Suguru knew that there would be plenty of time for declarations of love and grand romantic gestures. For now, he was content to simply be in your presence, to bask in the warmth of your smile. His heart was still beating rapidly from the moment you two just shared not too long ago. Was it truly possible that you felt the same way about him as he did you? Or was all of that just simply due to the heat of the moment. The same question pondered in your own mind.

The both of you had no idea what the future held in store for the two of you, but one thing was certain: as long as you both had each other, you knew that everything would be okay…or at least you hope.

__________________

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