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razzle-n-dazzle · 4 months

Note

- hi ! 💌,,

ISTG you’re writing is so well done and creative I had to contain myself from like spam!!

I hope you’re still taking request and if you’re not that’s totally cool, I’ll wait ‘till next round.

Adam reincarnates in hell and oh, would you look at that? the s/o is the only one trying to help and not making him feel worse that he already is. (i just need wholesome content, exam week is killing me rn).

AGAIN, love you’re writing thx for reading so far!

ᯓ★ Let's Give This Another Shot (and not fuck it up this time) Sinner! Adam / Sinner! Reader | Drabble

‗ content / trigger warning: fluff, swearing, Adam being Adam, not proof read (we die like Adam) ‗ author's note: this is for everyone who's dealing with exam weeks, it sucks but I believe in all of you any you're going to kill those exams! (don't let them kill you!). Also thank you so much for the compliments Anon <3, I write for the people and myself, so I'm glad everyone is enjoying the crazy shit I've posted here!

ᯓ When you fall from grace, it's not a pleasant feeling; That Adam knew - or at least he thought he knew - well enough from hearing about Lucifer falling, hearing the horrific things the others whispered about it, mentioning it in passing before the thought disappeared and dispelled into the air as though Lucifer had never held a place in Heaven. As though he was nothing that what he was now, demonic figure that wore a crown made out of skeletons and bones fashioned to mimic horns. Adam never cared about the stories that were whispered, about the horrors he sometimes heard through passing, about Sera recalling how she heard Lucifer scream on the way down, about how Michael watched with horror as Lucifer tried to shield Lilith and himself, about how Gabriel heard his pleads and couldn't do anything; No one could save him from the fate that had been weighed on his shoulders as soon as he had fed the apple to Eve. And partly it was because Adam blamed Lucifer for ruining his paradise, for infecting the mind of both his (ex) wives and causing him grief and pain. Dying alone is almost just as unpleasant as falling from grace; almost.

ᯓ You see, while Adam had died alone on Earth, at least his soul went to somewhere pleasant and he was able to continue living; To make a name for himself and, he guessed, make some friends and live a rather worriless and carefree life in the clouds. He was able to have fun, rock out, and be known as the first human soul ever being able to reach Heaven - that was something not even Eve managed to do, and he took it with pride! It was his title. It was partly who he was. Maybe it was all he was. That much became more clear to him when he found himself waking up in Hell again, the stabbing pain of a dagger striking his back still their along with the weight of his wings. At first, he had thought he managed to survive the assassination attempt, that Lute had just left him in Hell on accident or because she thought he was dead. It caused some sort of pride to well in his chest, a flame that sparked his need to go boost and scream at the top of his lungs - he had survived an angelic weapon! He was immune! He was the strongest angel there was, because Sera would totally fall and die in a sad crumble after being stabbed with angelic metal! He was . . .

ᯓ And that's when Adam happened to pass by a mirror, or well more of a reflective glass on the street of Hell (as he walked, not questioning the odd ball looks he got), and that's when he saw it; What looked like a stranger to be staring back at him, engulfing and taking over his reflection like they owned it, like it was there own. That wasn't him! Well, it looked like him, he could admit that, but it wasn't as sexy or as handsome as him! The reflection would copy his movement, snarling as he did and grinning all the same. With his same fluffed up hair and piercing eyes, the reflection wore no mask yet still held the horns of his all the same; Even the way they slowly curled back before dipping down, forming and L for the gold spikes to rest at the end. The reflection wore his exterminator uniform, yet it was the darker version with the yellow having somehow been dulled and deepened and faded out all at once. His wings were still golden, still tucking at his sides from under his arms all the same, though there was no halo to accompany them this time. And Adam almost wanted to laugh, maybe it was hysteria or maybe it was disbelief, yet he watched to cry and laugh and break the glass all at once; Denying that this was his fate, being unable to stomach that he, First Man Adam, was not only double dead yet in hell. Hell! The first man cannot be in hell, he had created everyone on Earth; All of them came from his nuts and in turn all of them should be praising the fucking land he walked on because if it wasn't for him he wouldn't be here!

ᯓ And yet the Reflection looked back all the same, teasing him with a distorted grin; Like it could feel his distress in the way he curled his fist, pulling back before he slammed it against the glass. It gave a crack, a small one at first, before completely shattering. Adam could care less what shop or business had that glass, he could care less how he effected them or how he was going to be painted in Hell, because this was some crazy mistake! He was not supposed to be down here and he was not going to stand for some stupid mistake that happened because some small crazy bitch decided to back-stab him! Literally! And yet, if Adam wanted any of the answers he so desperately craved, he would have to suck in some of his pride and trudge along to the damn Hotel and talk to the residence who had taken his life. It would take him a while before he accepted such a fate, taking the chance between deciding and doing to walk along the Pride Ring before stumbling into the wrong town and being chased out by crazy demons who wanted to bite him! Maybe even eat him . . . What crazy place is this?!

ᯓ When Adam had begrudging and reluctantly knocked on the new Hotel door, which he would never admit to stopping and marveling at for a second, he would feel that ever irritating dread weigh in his stomach. Who wouldn't feel such a feeling after coming to the front door of a group of people you had tried to exterminate only, Adam didn't know how long, prior! Maybe, silently, somewhere inside Adam knew if he were in their shoes, having faced what they had, he wouldn't accept him either; He would throw him to the curb. Yet, he didn't exactly like that thought, and it wasn't very on brand, so he shoved it down and away and deep until all the could think about is: How in the hell would they not accept me? I'm Adam, I'm the first man! And yet when the door opened, allowing Adam to come face to face with none other than Vaggie, he felt that dread creep in a little. But, not enough to stop him from greeting Vaggie in a less that desirable way, "What's up Vagasaurus?" The sneering comment left his mouth, "I love what you did with the place. You know, it looks slightly less like a destroyed pile of Sh-" Yet the door would only slam in his face before Adam could finish his thoughts or his words; Leaving him standing outside, a tad awkwardly, waiting for the doors to open again. He, also, would never admit giving a glance behind him, making sure no one was standing there to watch him standing in front of the doors.

ᯓ "Vaggie, who was that?" Charlie would call to her girlfriend as she walked away from the door, coming towards where Charlie sat on the floor organizing new activities that everyone could do. All while Nifty rushed around nearby, cleaning Sir Pentious' and Dazzle's memorials in the new Hazbin Hotel. She muttered to herself quietly, not bothering Angel and Husk, who sat at the bar. "No one important." Vaggie would mumble, not being able to catch her tone before it could reveal that it was someone less than desirable. Possibly another sinner choosing a path of redemption after the last extermination! Which the thought caused Charlie to gain a burst of energy, barreling onto her feet so quickly that she knocked around the carefully organized slits of paper on the floor. Vaggie tried to protest, saying it was truly no one at the door and Charlie should just leave it alone! But she was never a really good lair, "Oh calm down Vaggie, I'm sure it's no one bad!" Charlie would grin with a wave, her hand touching the crisp and cool metal of the door handle before swinging the door back open. "Hi, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! How can I-" And yet her words fell flat as soon as her eyes were locked onto Adam's - who quickly spun around, pretending like he hadn't just been looking behind him - and was also welcomed by his light groan of annoyance. "Oh fuck me." ". . . help you." Charlie's voice flattened, dropping as her eyes widened. You know, she's never felt this shocked to see someone at the steps of the Hotel before since Alastor had came along without warning.

ᯓ "Adam?!"

ᯓ "BITCH CAN YOU NOT SHOUT MY NAME?!" Was the next words that were exclaimed out of the ex-angel, the now outcast, as he seemed rather eager to push Charlie inside of her own Hotel and walk in after; Quickly shutting the door as though there was someone outside waiting and stalking him, watching him with all their attention. "Hey no, you cannot just let yourself in here this isn't Heaven!" Vaggie was swift to march her way over to the two, seeing as Charlie wasn't doing anything to discard of Adam she might as well do it herself! No way was she going to let some two-timing exorcist angel not only push her girlfriend around yet also push his way into the hotel. Who did he think he is? And yet Charlie waved out a hand, stopping Vaggie in her tracks. There was confusion, and the two at the bar would turn their heads, before scowling seeing the fallen angel. Adam was sure he could hear Angel's accented voice loud and clear shouting out, 'oh what the fuck is this bullshit!' before Charlie began to talk to him again in a rushed fashion; One he remembered quite well during the meeting that Lucifer subbed her in for instead of coming to it himself, and he was still annoyed by her voice. "What are you doing down here? I thought you-! You know . . . " Charlie rushed out, trying to make it quick as though the others at the hotel would jump and kill Adam again with no remorse, finishing the job that clearly didn't stay permeant the first time; And, honestly, Adam wouldn't put it above anyone here to do that. Adam, who had been picking at his teeth with his pinkie finger, would turn away from Charlie and shrug his shoulders, "Yeah, well, I fuckin' did and ended up down here for some fucking reason, probably a mistake and mix up of souls. I'm sure you have plenty of those down here, pft!- I mean who else would want to stay in this charity case!-" "We're not entertaining you Adam!" Vaggie would cut off the ex-angel, causing his interest to peak over at her. Though he relaxed quickly enough, maybe too quickly seeing as Vaggie had drown out her own weapon and that . . . nasty little creature stood beside her with the dagger made out of angelic metal; Now that little one-eyed demon could give Adam the creeps, maybe even a little (lot) fright, but not Vaggie. "You know, I thought were all trying to redeem souls in this junk box of yours." Adam scoffed, quickly crossing his arms with a tilt of his head. "Are you fucking discriminating against me wanting to return to where I rightfully belong just because I was an angel before this? Wow, that's a low blow, especially for someone light you." Adam's voice dripped with sarcasm mixed with malice, maybe even still a little pride. "You literally tried killing up like- 2 weeks ago!" Vaggie would gesture to the side, as though trying to compare time to the length of her arm. "Oh shit it's been too weeks?" Adam paused, thinking about it yet drawing a blank and shrugging in result, "Shit, didn't know, pft! That shit must still be fresh for you then, huh? Well, let me remind you all that you weren't the ones who DIED!-"

ᯓ "Adam?" Your voice would slip out into the common space of the lobby of the hotel, honey sweat to Adam's ears; Filling them with a melody that could match the songs of Heaven, running down his spine with the comfort he didn't know he needed until now. But even then, you knew he wouldn't break his 'tough man' exterior until you managed to snag him along, away from the prying eyes of everyone else. "Holy shit, hey Babe!" Adam was quick, rushing past and slightly pushing Charlie out of his way to make his way over to you, over to his love. "What the fuck are you doing in a dumb like this? I thought you said you had your own fucking spot near Cannibal Town!" - It had been the only reason why he had tried traveling to that cursed town, even while knowing its residents might try and take a bite out of him or his wings. He craved for the familiarity of someone in this new world, as he had never felt this vulnerable since his first days on Eden; Earth. God's Earth. "Babe?" A chorus of confused, slightly concerned, and baffled voices followed as Adam came to your side, swinging an arm around your waist and instantly drawing you closer. You swore he was fighting off the urge to flick off the others, a casual fuck you for trying to push him off and out. You could feel their eyes as you leaned up to pepper a kiss into Adam's shoulder, to which he squeezed your waist slightly tighter, adorning a snicker upon his face. "Wait, wait!-" Vaggie started, taking a staggering step forward as her arms laid limp besides her. One of her eyebrows were cocked up, her eyes narrow, "What do you mean Babe?" Your name left her lips, "Don't tell me you're dating that fucker!" She would soon exclaim, tossing her hands out as they finally regained the life they had lost. To which you would turn towards her confused, and then remember oh yeah . . . the battle. The one you hadn't been present for though heard about through Channel 666 News; In all honesty it's why you had came here, to the Hotel, to see if you could try and get to Heaven and find Adam again - praying he didn't actually die but was taken back to Heaven to heal or was revived in some way. "Uh, yeah. Adam's my boyfriend-" You would start with a wavering smile, nerves tugging at the edge of your lips. "Oh, this couldn't have gotten worse." Angel would groan, slamming his head down onto the bar countertop, acting like a disappointed parent; Silently telling you that you could have done better. To which you placed a hand on your hip, about to tell Angel off, only to be cut off by Husk tsking and shaking his head, "I would not put you as an Angel and sexist fucker, but whatever rows your boat." His tone came off dry, uninterested, and a little hostile. And with Charlie's silence, you couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's words a little heavier.

ᯓ And Adam noticed that, with one glance down at you and your face, his wings would flare defensively and his glare was snapped back at the other demons. He couldn't care less that they had been talking shit about him, he couldn't care less on how they saw him or the reasons they thought you could do better than him; They shouldn't care about whether or not someone was out of their friend's league if they were clearly happy with the person! That, Adam knew - or maybe he believed it more. "Hey, what your fucking mouths!-" He would start, trying to draw you away from the others. Sure, he was no longer an Angel, but he was sure as hell he could take any of them in a fight anyways! And yet, his anger was snuffed like a candle as soon as you placed your hand on his chest, gently pushing in and pushing him back. The breath of ire was caught in his throat, not even being able to reach his lungs, as he glanced down at you, noticing the spark that you had seemingly stolen right out of his chest and placed in your eyes. He knew your reservations of fighting with friends, or with anyone in general, so he couldn't help but feel pride swell up in his chest watching you stand up for yourself, for you and him: "I will not let you speak about me, nor Adam that way!" You defended, shooting a star through your eyelashes that the group; Who seemed just as taken aback as Adam had been before the warmth spread from his chest. Vaggie would scrunch her face, much more concerned that irritated or disappointed, but also all of that at the same time. Your name slipped from her lips, "You can't be serious! He's . . ." She stumbled for a moment, trying to grasp her words, "He's led genocides on Sinners all over Hell! He's like really gross and he doesn't respect people. He's a douche and a dick!-" "Dick master," Adam would correct Vaggie just to piss her off, earning a slight jag in the gut from you and a snarl from Vaggie. Vaggie, who, tossed out her hands once more, yet pointed at Adam this time, "See what I mean?!"

ᯓ "And tell me how you felt when you first lost your divinity?"

ᯓ The question lingered in the room, drifting and sticking in the air, as Vaggie stared at you with disbelief; Her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide, and her stance rigid. You noticed how Charlie grew nervous behind her, how she seemed rather uncomfortable in the atmosphere that been created in the room since Adam had arrived than you. She would place a hand on Vaggie's shoulders, attempting to comfort her, yet failed to pick out any words to say in response. "It's hard enough to leave somewhere you've called home," You would continue, frowning, "To be tossed out like you had meant nothing, like one mistake had deemed you unworthy despite everything great you have done in your life. Vaggie! . . . out of everyone, I would have thought at least you would understand something like that." Seeing as she had gone through the same process herself, yet had always had Charlie there by her side to walk through everything with. Was she implying that Adam didn't deserve the same because of what he had done? Sure it was crude and cruel, but everyone deserved another chance to mistake their wrongs and that was what this hotel was about; And you voiced such concerns to not just Vaggie but to Charlie as well. What makes Adam so much different from Lucifer, or say another Fallen Angel that managed to wind up down here? What makes him less worthy to be redeemed? What made him less of a human soul as say Angel or Alastor? Everyone fucks up in their life and as long as they're trying to better themselves, understanding what they did wrong and why it was wrong, they should be given a chance!

ᯓ It wasn't long before Charlie said that everyone should take a break, and as such you would lead Adam away from the crowd of people and up to your own room in the Hotel. You could feel Vaggie's eyes linger, you felt like she wanted to say something yet let her words fall short before they were ever given a chance. But, even if they had, you were too pent up to even discuss anything logically with her at the moment. And you think she could feel or at least tell and that's why her words fell short, yet you would never know - you're not Vaggie nor would you ever think like she does.

ᯓ You and Adam found yourselves in your bed after settling some matters, such as a change of clothing for him and whether or not you wanted to try and make the trip back to your apartment today; Luckily you had some of Adam's old T-shirts and joggers you had stolen from him from one of the few trips where Adam had snuck you into Heaven - and yet on the same note, either of you felt like going downstairs to face anyone to leave to your apartment. So, with not much to do, you set the TV on as background noise and brain fuzz as you snuggled up to Adam's side. You felt as his claws, at first, scratched gently at his side, pairing with a kiss on the forehead, and then they began to tap the flesh there; Like you were some little drum that made no noise, yet Adam continued until he switched to rubbing his thumb against your hip. "What's wrong, Adam?" Concern dripped from your lips, forcing Adam to draw his eyes away from the mindless television and down to meet you, and your eyes. He had known your attention had been up at him for a while, at first admiring his face (as you didn't get to see it much) yet it had shifted to concern the more he played with the plush flesh of your waist. He wondered if you could tell he was nervous from the start. Adam's eyes would falter and glance off to TV again, his words causing a lump in his throat as he tried to play through them; Trying to find the best combination to spew out instead of talking without thinking - vomiting whatever first came to mind and not thinking about it later. And maybe you could tell the trepidations that filled his head too; Seeing as you shifted your position from his side, pushing yourself up, and instead onto his lap, effectively blocking his vision of the television. Your hands rested on his chest, something so natural at this point yet something that still caused Adam's lungs to halt for a minute and for his stomach to flutter. Even so, he would give you a curious glance up and down, trancing the curves of your body with his eyes as he has done countless times before - yet every time, you managed to take his breath away. "If you wanted to fuck, babe, you could have just said so!" The snarky remark left his lips, meeting your amused yet disapproving face. He knew that's not what you wanted, yet he couldn't help but entertain yourself when you were basically straddling his waist; As such, his fingers would drag along the calf of your leg before his hands would trail up your thighs before tailing back down and up once more. He saw the flutter in your breath, yet you tried to keep your composure. Even if Adam was making it ever so hard.

ᯓ "Adam," You would start, your tone causing Adam to stop caressing your thighs. It stuck his eyes to yours, and he couldn't look away no matter how much his nerves pulled at him to. "I want you to know, no matter what happens . . . I'm here for you, okay? We're in this together. You're not a solo act anymore, we're a duet . . . or, well, more a duo act." Your words sunk down into Adam's skin, they infected through his lungs and ran to his heart before infecting all his blood and his veins. His hands, which had ran up to hold your waist, gave a gentle squeeze as he swallowed down the saliva that built up in his suddenly dry mouth. A duo act? Sure, he knew you two were dating, that you had been for a while, yet even then he had a silent thought in the back of his head that you would leave him, much like the others; So he never considered himself no more than what he had: A soloist. First Man Adam! . . . but now he was able to add being 'Yours' to his list with some sort of fire-like confidence; Burning and bright. It made his heart catch fire, even more so when you would stretch out lightly and lean down to lay down on his chest; Your warmth infecting all of him you touched, allowing his arms to wrap around your back and for his wings to fluff out and wrap around your frame. It was like he wanted to shield you from the world, shield you from Heaven, shield you from everyone and anything that wanted to hurt you. Sure he had the urge before, but now? . . . "You heard that big man?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, your teasing smirk had him fighting for a breath. You would playfully nudge his shoulder, "You're stuck with me, I'm stuck with you're, we're stuck together so you better be getting used to it! I'll fight for you, you fight for me, and we'll get back to that stupid place that outcasted you in the first place!" But he would like to stay here, with you, forever. "And we'll show Charlie and Vaggie that it can be done and that even if you fucked up you have a good heart in you! . . . Because I know you do under all the gunk." And your laughter had never sounded so sweet, and you touch has never felt so soft and loving.

ᯓ A duo act, huh? With you? Adam could get used to and stand behind that thought; Perhaps, even after all this time, he wanted nothing more than to hear those words, or well the meaning of those words, from your mouth since the start.

ᯓ But even then, with the emotions that swelled Adam's heart with nothing but pure love, he couldn't help but nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent filled his nose with a warmth he missed, the soft skin of your neck flushed against his smirking lips, a feeling he longed for and couldn't forget. You were perfect, you always had been! "Fuck, Babe, when you say pretty shit like that, it's hard not to fuck you right here and now." Adam would groan before a loud cackle left his lips as soon as you smacked his back. All too used to his ways, you couldn't do much yet shake your head against Adam's shoulder, like a parent scolding their child for saying something offensive. "You ruined the mood Adam!" The huff escaped your lips, it hit Adam's neck and made goosebumps spring up his arms. "Again!" And yet, you didn't protest as Adam tossed you both into your sides with a fever, still cackling as though this was the funniest joke in the world - and you couldn't deny, you loved the sound of his laughter so much. Even as his stubble would tickle your neck as he did so, causing you to start laughing soon after and trying to push his head away from your neck. "Adam! Oh my god, Adam stop that tickles!" You gasped between breaths, struggling to push your boyfriend away as he found joy in your lighthearted misery. Though he would only curl around your frame, not answering your desperate calls of a truce and a stop, and trap you in his arms and wings with no remorse. "You're stuck with me Babe, you said it yourself! Now come here, let me kiss that pretty fucking face of yours until you can't breath!"

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declareqenius · 3 months

Text

stitched up

warnings: blood, stitches

summary: you were sent on a mission with your father, tony stark, but something went wrong with the new prototype, resulting in you being injured. wanda needs the closeness and the confirmation that you’re right in front of her, but natasha’s emotions nearly get the better of her.

a/n: this is not how i wanted to end this originally, but i’m having some writer’s block and just wanted to post something again. i may do a part two but it depends on if y’all would like to see a part two or not!

“If your arm wasn’t bleeding this much, and if my mind and heart didn’t ache every time I glanced away from you, your father would be hanging from the ceiling by his ankles.”

Of course, leave it to your girlfriend to say something so poetic, yet so vulgar, in a semi-serious situation.

Wanda’s arms are crossed as she worriedly checks over the rest of your body, trying to keep herself from peeking at the gushing blood coming from your shoulder. The only thing that holds her back from storming down the hallway in search of your father is her need to see that you’re going to be okay. Meaning she has to sit there and watch on as Bruce slowly stitches the gash shut.

“We both know you would do so much worse than that, Wands.” You try to mask your slight wince with a cheeky grin, but of course your girlfriend notices.

“You’re right. I think I’ll let Natasha have her fun first.” She makes it sound like a joke, however you both know it’s far from such a thing.

Wanda’s eyebrows are still tightly furrowed together, her eyes constantly checking over you as if the second she looks away some new injury will magically appear. Even though you’re the one covered in blood with the stitching needle in their arm, you can’t help but want to comfort her.

“Hey, love,” you gently place your first finger under her chin and guide her head until her eyes meet yours, “I’m alright. It’s okay.”

She searches deeply within your eyes, and it’s a miracle you maintain eye contact with her. The sheer build up of love, worry, and warmth you find within her soft green irises takes you aback.

“It shouldn’t have happened.”

She says it so firmly. The sentence is so contradictory to the emotions she showed you seconds ago. The feelings she only allows you and Natasha- your other, probably furious, redheaded girlfriend- to read and memorize, to know like the back of your hands.

Her Sokovian accent is thick, which only happens when she’s scared, angry, or safe. And, right now with Bruce in the room, you know it’s a combination of the first two.

“You’re right, as always,” you give her a smile, which she mirrors, and you stow the memory away as a small victory. “But it did happen. And there’s nothing we can do about it now except let Bruce stitch me up, okay? I’ll be good as new afterwards. Right, Bruce?”

Your eyes don’t leave Wanda’s because you know looking at Bruce will somehow make the stitching process hurt more.

The man only gives a nod and soft grunt of approval.

“See? Nothing to worry about, my dear.”

“Nothing to worry about, huh?”

A calloused voice cuts through the room. You’re the first to snap your head up and break the heartfelt moment with Wanda. The quick movement causes Bruce to tug the stitches more than intended, and you close your eyes and take in a slow, deep breath. The soft hand soothingly running along your uninjured arm is the only thing keeping you completely grounded at the moment.

“Cause from where I’m standing, detka, it looks like something we should be worried about.”

Once you open your eyes again, they immediately fall upon Natasha, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and undoubtedly pissed off.

You’re aware her anger isn’t directed at you. You know _why _she’s pissed. Your emotions would most definitely get the better of you if either one of your girlfriends was injured and you couldn’t do anything to prevent it. It would be worse if you could have prevented it.

The certainty of your words and relaying the facts to her wouldn’t calm her down, but you know there’s no calming her down on your part. Not when you’re sitting on a stool injured and had to be carried to the med bay so you wouldn’t bleed to death.

“HYDRA got the jump on us, Nat. We weren’t expecting it and there was nothing that could have been done to ensure our safety. You know that. We had the Iron Man suit and the counteract prototype with us, and that’s it. Dad decided to use the prototype because it was all we had. It malfunctioned and I didn’t have enough time to move out of the way after the HYDRA agent pushed me towards it.”

You’re clear with all of your words and your voice never wavers, nor does your eye contact. Natasha may be the Black Widow, and only a very select group of people could ever talk to her the matter-of-fact way you just did, but sometimes she needs a reminder that things happen no matter how much one tries to prevent them.

“He could have kept you safe. That should have been his priority. You’re his daughter, Y/N. That’s way more important than barging into an intel mission unprepared! With only a prototype, no less. Especially when it puts your life in danger!”

The two of you hold eye contact with each other for a few seconds until you glance away and focus on watching Bruce finalize his stitch-work. Watching the needle thread through your skin makes the pain undeniably worse, but you can’t seem to force yourself to look at your girlfriends.

You don’t see the guilt-ridden regret that crosses Natasha’s features before she looks at the floor beneath her.

Tony wasn’t unprepared for the mission. Neither were you. Both of you surveyed the perimeter twice. Both of you were careful at every corner you turned. HYDRA just happened to outsmart two of the smartest people in the world.

Minutes later and Bruce finishes stitching your left shoulder up. Natasha stands at the door impatiently and Wanda watches her but still makes sure to have some physical contact with you.

“Alright,” Bruce stands from his chair, “twenty-five stitches. No major physical activity for the next two weeks. That includes missions, working out, and... I don’t have to say it. Let’s give the wound time to heal itself, okay?”

You nod and thank him before he takes his leave, passing by a very guilty, annoyed Natasha.

“Natalia, podoydi syuda, pozhaluysta.”

Wanda is the first to speak once Bruce leaves, and you’re grateful she took the initiative. Neither of them like seeing you hurt since both have lost so much in their short lives, but Natasha eats herself up over your injuries. She always thinks she’d be able to do something to prevent them, especially in the field. Wanda’s reactions are slightly more reasonable, but her worry gets the best of her and she often needs physical contact to remind herself you’re still there.

Natasha begrudgingly takes a seat next to Wanda, who immediately holds out her hand to give the former assassin the option of physical contact. Your shorter girlfriend hesitates before she gently take Wanda’s left hand in her right but makes no move to touch you or glance in your direction.

The chairs they sit in are lower than your stool, and part of you finds it funny that you’re the one that’s been placed in that position.

“Moglo byt’ gorazdo khuzhe,” Natasha mutters, staring at her boots and focusing on the way Wanda’s thumb rubs back and forth along the back of her hand.

It could have been much worse.

“Odnako eto bylo ne tak. Ona vse yeshche zdes', i my nuzhny yey pryamo seychas.”

It wasn’t, though. She’s still here and she needs both of us right now.

Wanda’s voice is soothing as she softly speaks to Natasha.

You let them have their moment and offer the Sokovian a small smile when she sends a gentle wink your way.

Both know you don’t understand the conversation. You’ve picked up some basic Russian, words or phrases they say a lot, but when they get into full conversations and larger sentences, all you can do is either pretend you’re busy or sit and watch their facial expressions to gauge the nature of the conversation.

They speak a minute longer and Natasha starts relaxing. Her furrowed brows even out, her drawn lips ease into a relaxed expression, and her eyes- although still holding an ounce of anger- start to glisten. She finds the need within herself to look at you, check you over for any other injuries- although Wanda has done that several times over- and finally, search your beautiful eyes with her own.

“Nat-”

You move to speak, wanting to voice your concerns and reassure both of them you’re okay even though they can see you sitting here in front of them. However, Natasha stands from her seat and takes a step over to you. She keeps her eye contact with you and gently, with a slight nod of confirmation from you, she slots herself between your legs. Her hand comes up to your cheek and she notices a small bruise forming above your eyebrow. It makes her eyes water a little more.

“I’m sorry, muy lyubov. You’re injured and I’ve been acting like a dick. I won’t apologize for wanting to keep you safe, or wanting to make Tony pay for his lack of common sense, but I will apologize for directing my anger toward you. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry, detka.”

“It’s okay, Nat. I forgive you. I understand why you were so angry, I mean, I would be too if you or Wands were in my position. So, I get it, but next time I need you to try and talk to me, okay?”

Natasha nods her confirmation, and you know from the look in her eyes that she’s determined to work on her communication with both you and Wanda.

“Thank you, my love.”

Sometimes you all understand each other in different ways and need each other for different things, but in the end, the three of you fit together like nothing anyone has ever seen. The journey has been long and will continue to be, but none of you would have it any other way.

Natasha’s eyes are still teary, and you can’t help but tilt your head up just enough to catch her lips in a slow, soft kiss. Enough to remind her that she’s forgiven and that you’re not going anywhere. You break apart after a few moments and see Nat’s small smile. It could be better, but you’ll take it for now. However, you notice Wanda getting impatient after having watched you kiss Natasha.

You look over at Wanda with a grin on your face, “Anything you’d like to say, Wands?”

“My turn.”

Wanda gets up from her chair and stands to the left of Natasha. She gently cups your left cheek with her right hand and kisses you much like you did Natasha, except with more fervor- as if she could express gratitude for your life through a kiss. When she pulls away there’s a smile on both of your faces, and her eyes have replaced worry and anger with unconditional love.

It never ceases to amaze you how willingly and openly your girlfriends give themselves to you.

#wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #they're here #i'm trying to get back into writing please go easy on me

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d0youc0py · 1 year

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Even when he wasn’t working his mask seem to haunt him. He wanted to be here with you- but every time he looked in the mirror he was pulled away. Red bumps littered his jaw and some even around his hairline. He had always struggled with acne, having the acne scars to prove it, but it seemed to be getting worse. He’d been in a hotter climate this last mission, the sweat and not being able to air out his face was taking its toll.

He felt so unattractive. He quickly figured out when you feel ugly- you act ugly.

“Sweetheart, open up.” Simon sighed, his hand knocking at the door to emphasize. You two had just gone out on your first date since he’s been back and he snipped at you the whole time.

“Fuck off!”

Ouch.

“Sweetheart.” He started again. The bedroom door finally swung open. His body tensed at your teary face.

“I don’t know what happened to you while you were out there, and god knows you won’t tell me, but you have no right to take it out on me. I’ve been waiting for you to come home for the past three weeks and what am I greeted with? Hostility. It’s like I can’t do anything right.” You sputtered, glaring up at him. His hand instinctively went up to wipe the tears away from your face. He had never been the best at comforting people, but he would do anything to get your tears to stop.

“You’re right.” He admitted. The glare left your face. He was usually much more stubborn- unless he knew he in the was wrong. You softened. “It has nothin to do with work, at least not in the way you think.” His hand went up to rub his jaw but he quickly stopped himself. “I just haven’t been feeling”- He paused. He brought his hand up and motioned to his jaw, turning his head to the side.

“Si.” You murmured. You had noticed a little flare in his skin, but you didn’t really process it. He was always so handsome in your eyes. Your fingers reached up and traced along his cheekbone. “I understand.”

“Shouldn’t take it out on you though, yeah?” He affirmed.

“No you shouldn’t, but I understand now.” You smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his chin. “You’re so handsome, you know.” You mumbled down his neck. He flushed, clearing his throat. “Do you want some help with it?” You offered.

His metabolism wasn’t what it use to be. Luckily the physical activity of his job kept away any unwanted pounds. That was until he was forced to go on medical leave and spend three months ‘taking it easy.’

He would be completely lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it though. Being home with you had been heaven- but a bit of hell on his waistline. He noticed it a bit, but he honestly didn’t think anyone else would. He was rudely awoken when he arrived back at base only to have Soap and Gaz poke fun at him. He knew it was all in good fun, but his first thoughts were about you. Had you noticed? If you did, how did you feel about it? He hushed his own thoughts figuring he would loose the weight out on the field. That was his second rude awakening. He had shed a few pounds, but a few stubborn ones remained poking out over his belt.

“How does Y/N feel about their new pillow?” Soap hummed, plopping down next to him. It had been like this for the past month.

“Sleeps like a rock.” Price grumbled.

“Didn’t know you knew what that was Cap.”

“Soap fuck off.” Ghost growled from across the aisle. “Fucking hell.”

The plane was quiet for a while after that.

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one to be insecure, but this was striking a cord. He remembers being younger and overhearing his mother gossiping in the kitchen about the neighbors.

“Alice has gained so much weight. She’s just gotten married too! Couldn’t imagine already letting myself go like that.”

Letting himself go.

That’s what it was. He didn’t want you- or anyone to think that he had ‘let himself go.’ That it was no longer important to him if you had found him attractive. That the two of you had been married for a little over a year so he could just give up. He shook himself out of his thoughts again.

•••••••••

He couldn’t even get through the door by the time you were on him.

“Welcome Home.” You smiled, pressing kisses to anywhere you could reach. He chuckled, leaning into you. He placed one arm under your bottom lifting you up to him. He dropped his duffle bag at the door kicking the door closed behind him.

“I missed you.” He murmured kissing you back just as desperate. He plopped down on the couch, settling you tightly in his lap. All was right in the world till your hands started to wander.

“You get hurt again?” You questioned after he flinched. Your hands went to pull up his shirt to inspect the damage. He stopped you. “John?” You questioned softly. He tangled his hands with yours.

“You know I have a tendency to be a bit old fashioned.” He started. You pressed your brows together.

“John I’ve seen you naked before.”

“No, love.” He chuckled. “I’ve gained a bit of weight and back in my day that was more scandalous than adultery”-

“You know I don’t care about that.” You interjected.

“I know, that’s what makes this whole thing ridiculous. It’s just something I’ve found out about myself, something that I need to work through.” He sighed, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“Does this mean I can’t touch you?” You mumbled, fiddling with his shirt collar. He quickly shook his head.

“Course not.” He whispered.

“Johnny, you’re being too loud.”

That sentence had been replaying in his head like a broken record. You didn’t mean anything by it. You were just keeping him in check. Yet he could feel your embarrassment. The heat rising to your cheeks. The panic in your voice. The way you gave total strangers an apologetic smile when they turned your way. He had always been a naturally loud talker. Growing up with five siblings in a small two bedroom apartment was to thank for that. The fact that he had been around explosives for the past eight years didn’t help either.

“Johnny?” You tapped his arm. His eyes fled from the small paper bowl of ice cream to you. “You okay? You’ve been so quiet since we’ve left the restaurant.”

He couldn’t stop a dry chuckle. He grabbed the small bowl, shoving a spoonful in his mouth.

“ ‘m fine.” He mumbled. You sighed leaning across the table gripping his hand with yours.

“Jo.” You pressed again, flashing him your undeniable puppy eyes. He gave your hand a small squeeze.

“Sorry for the way I was at the restaurant.” He grumbled.

“What?” You asked, leaning forward again.

“I said, I’m sorry for the way I was at the restaurant.” He repeated. Your brows furrowed. Suddenly it hit you. Your hand left his and clamped over your mouth.

“No, no, no, Johnny.” You said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. Well I did- but”- You cut yourself off. You rubbed your forehead. Your hands reached out again tangling yours and his together. “I’m sorry I made you feel bad. That wasn’t my intention. I just know you sometimes forget your own volume.”

He gave you a small smile, pressing a kiss to your knuckle.

“I know Bonnie. I just don’t like embarrassing you.”

“We’re just so different in that way Jo. My parents were so strict about how loud I was- especially in public. It’s just a stupid habit I have, but I should never expect you to follow it.” You smiled softly. He smiled back at you, the sparkle returning to his blue eyes.

“I should still work on it though. Don’t want to blow your eardrums out, then we’ll both be shouty.” He chuckled.

“You hate it when I do this don’t you?” You hummed.

“I’m still not use to it.” He sighed, using his thumb to run small circles against your hip. He shivered as your fingers traced over another long stretch mark on his back. He mumbled something and pulled you closer, your body almost completely buried underneath his.

It was no secret Konig was tall. Along with that height came stretch marks. Mostly on his lower back and calves, some even under his arms. Some had faded, a small ridge in his skin to show they were still there. Others were a deeper pink- more noticeable.

“Everybody has them Konnie.” You mumbled, pressing a kiss under his jaw.

“I know.” He purred out as you massaged a small kink out of his back. Truth be told he didn’t really care about them either- until the locker room. That’s when he noticed how excessive his seemed. He had carried that feeling for a while, it wasn’t until he met you did he become more comfortable with it. You had showed him your stretch marks and he saw how pretty they looked on you. He slowly began to figure out that if he thought they looked nice on you, then you probably felt the same way about his. He still tenses when you touch them, his eyes darting to yours for any sign of insincerity. He’s always met with love and want. Just the thought of it causes a flutter in his stomach.

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ghouljams · 2 days

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Here's Hoping Things Look Better On the Other Side Chapter 1: The Cowboy Rating: E (minors please do not interact) Words: 6k Tags: Ghost x f!reader/OC, fingering, unprotected piv sex, oral (m and f receiving), deep throating, soft sex, face riding, dangerous driving practices, one night stands, first meeting, dom!Ghost, flirting Summary: You decide to spend you last night of freedom before saddling yourself with farm work, saddling up on something else. You know what they say: Save a horse, ride a cowboy. a/n: happy 1 year anniversary to this blog, as a mark of this occasion I'm doing what I kept talking about but never had the courage for and posting the "official" Cowboy Ghost story, or at least the first chapter. If some of this looks familiar, it's because a lot of my initial posts in the au were straight from this draft

Thank you @ethereal-night-fairy for giving this a once over, you're the best ❤️

There’s plenty about small towns that you miss living in the big city. The lack of bars is not one of those things. At least your friends don’t seem to be complaining. Anything to take the edge off the hours you’d spent in the car. One of the girls laughs pushing at another’s arm, the table is littered with empty shot glasses and half drunk beers. You glance back at the room over your shoulder, eyes darting to find a tray you could pile some of this on to make the bartender’s life easier. It’s dimly lit, as all dives are, and may as well have a sign hung up boasting about how flammable it is with all the wood in here. Wood tables and chairs, wood bar, wood floor, wood walls, you wouldn’t be surprised if the mirror over the back of the bar was wood too.

Still, you’re happy to be home. You miss small town living, miss the farm. You’ve been an accountant long enough, lost the calluses on your hands and you’re ready to dive back in. You’ll have to report to your daddy’s ranch earlier than the sun once morning rears its ugly head. You may as well have some fun, enjoy your last night of freedom before breaking your back breaking horses. And lucky you it’s the start of planting season, plenty of fresh blood in the water.

It’s good timing really. You know everyone in town too well, and the last thing you need is for word to get back to your daddy that you slept with the McKennan boy or worse. No, seasonal help is the best choice for a one night stand. No one you know that knows you(or your father). You glance around the bar, plenty of faces you don’t recognize. No one interesting though. No one that seems like they’d give you anything good. Mackayla already has a hat fixed square on her head, a cowboy coo-ing at her like she’s the luckiest girl in the bar.

Your eyes hit the man hunched against the bar. An unfamiliar face, a dark black hat, and denim stretched tight over his thick thighs. He’s got a good build, broad shoulders, thick fingers that dwarf the long neck in his hand, biceps you could sink your teeth into… You can’t see his face, but there’s an air about him that screams “leave me alone”. That plus the way he keeps to himself says he doesn’t know anyone or care to. Perfect. You toss the last of your bourbon back and toss a few bucks on the table.

“I’m gonna snag a cowboy,” You tell your friends, “Don’t wait up.”

You earn a few thumbs ups, a whistle and a “get it” that makes you laugh, before turning to snag the spot next to your man in black at the bar. You lean against the bar to catch his eye, standing close as you push your chest out, and tip your head. They’re brown, you think, warm like liquor and kept steadfastly forward. Must be having a staring contest with his own reflection. There’s a mask too. A black swath of fabric with a jaw bone painted onto it covering half his face. That explains why you couldn’t get a good look at him across the bar.

“So-” You start, only to be cut off.

Your cowboy holds up a twenty neatly folded between his fingers without even looking at you, "How much is it gonna cost to get you to leave me alone?" He asks, the bass rumble of his voice making you all the more sure of your decision. You glance from the skeletal mask to the black Stetson tipped low over his eyes.

"The hat."

"Not for sale."

“Not even just for tonight?” You ask, feeling buzzed and bold as you lean against the bar. There’s the slightest turn of his head as he looks at you. The warm brown of his eye as it peaks from under the shadow of his brim hits you better than any shot could. His gaze drags over you, and you let it, feeling his eyes settle on the way you push your tits out, then trace down over your hip. Your skin prickles with warmth, your stomach fluttering excitedly. He drags those lovely brown eyes back to meet yours and hums, looking back at the mirror.

“How about a drink,” He says, motioning for the bartender.

“How about two,” You grin, his mask shifts, his eyes crinkling a little at the edges, “What are you drinking?”

“Piss,” He says, pushing his mask up enough to get a swallow of his beer. He’s funny in a dry sort of way, you’d laugh if you weren’t so entranced by his lips against the bottle. You rip your eyes off him when he pulls the mask back into place. You gotta get this man a decent drink. You press up onto your toes to lean across the bar and talk to the bartender.

“Are the Sisters still making hooch?” You ask, the tender nods and grabs two shot glasses for you. You settle back on your feet, feeling the pleasant weight of your companion’s gaze dragging over you. You wait as the glasses are filled with 2oz of the only thing you missed on the coast. Well, maybe not the only thing. A glass of crystal moonshine is set in front of each of you. Your cowboy’s fingers pinch around the sides of the shot, his hand dwarfing the glass as his other hand tugs at his mask. You both tap your shots to the bar before throwing them back. You shake your head at the burn as he lets out a cough.

“Oh that is dead,” He says, lord his voice is so thick when it’s pleased. Rumbling nicely in his throat, you’re desperate to see what it tastes like.

“So,” You draw his eyes back to your face with just one word, “What’s a Manchester boy doing in this shithole?”

He lets out a breath through his teeth, flicking the brim of his hat back to get a better look at you. His eyes make you warm all over in a way that alcohol never could. “Manchester, huh-” He motions for another shot, “You even know where that is, Princess?”

Oh the way he says it, so deep and condescending, but inquisitive, makes a shiver run down your spine. You’d do anything to hear him call you that again. Including answering his question with the minimum amount of sass.

“North of Birmingham, west of Sheffield. Do you need my footie team too before you to take me home?” You smile, tapping your refilled shot against his before downing it. His fingers hesitate on his glass as he looks at you, eyes following your tongue as you lick the last drop of moonshine off your lips.

He reaches up and takes off his hat, settling it on your head. It’s big and warm, and sits just a little too low on you, but you don’t care, it’s his. His claim on you. He takes his shot clean, pulling his mask back up as he tosses far too much cash on the bar and grabs your hand.

You barely get to his truck before you’re pressed against it, his hands gripping your face as he presses his lips to yours. Too eager to remember he’s gotta pull his mask off first apparently. It’s warm and cotton-y. Not that you mind. You laugh, feeling bubbly from the moonshine, as he growls and rips his mask off before kissing you again.

And oh, he’s good with his mouth. You can tell by the slide of his lips, the way he holds your face just the way he wants to. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips and you open eagerly for him, letting him taste the cheap sugary booze you’d been sipping before you saw him. He licks into your mouth, skimming your teeth before twisting his tongue against yours in a way that makes you shiver. His mouth is warm and wet, and he groans when you suck on his tongue. You want to hear that sound for the rest of your life. He tips your head back and back, his hat held to your head by the closed cab door as he crowds you against his truck forcing you to take everything he gives you.

Your chest is warm and you can feel your blood pumping want through to your fingertips as you twist them into his shirt. You want to be drunk on him, want to feel your head spin as your thoughts turn to cotton. You think this is the best decision you’ve ever made. Especially when his hands leave your face to grab your hips, his leg wedged between yours. He drags your hips to grind against his thigh, all hard muscle and oh you can feel him. The hard line of his cock just at the apex of your movements. It makes all your heat drop to pool between your legs. Mm, he was absolutely a good decision.

“What am I screaming for you?” You murmur, between kisses, desperate to know your cowboy’s name.

“Simon,” He tells you, ducking to mouth at your neck. “Simon,” he says it again, bites it into your skin, like he’s reminding himself.

“Simon,” you sigh, enjoying the way saying his name makes his hold on you tighten.

He works your hips against his thigh, his lips sucking at your neck before his teeth dig into the blooming bruises. There’s something animal and desperate in his movements, something that speaks to a man who hasn’t had a woman in a long time. Good. You want all that pent up stress, all the need, that he can muster. You make a soft noise at the twitch of your hips, the tingle of need in your own body starting to soak your panties. It’s only when you start to feel that same wetness soaking the denim scraping your thighs that Simon pulls away.

“You drive stick?” He asks, the warmth of his iris consumed by dark black. You tip your head, pull him back to brush his lips against yours. You want him to keep kissing you, his lips just on the right side of chapped and his tongue exploratory. You hold onto his face until he grabs your wrists and pulls you off. “Manual, Princess. Want you in my bed before I fuck ya.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You murmur, eyes fixed on his mouth, “I can drive stick.”

Simon pulls you away from where you’ve been plastered against the truck cab and opens the door. You squeak when he picks you up and sets you on the seat. Your eyes dart to the wet patch on his jeans, then to check out his ass when he leans down to grab his mask off the gravel. Damn.

You pull your door closed as Simon pulls himself into the driver's side of the cab, turning the ignition and switching gears. You always liked the click of the gear shift, but now the engine thrums in your blood, a heady promise of what’s to come. Simon grabs your hand from where it’s settled on your thigh to hold it under his on the gear shift. He shifts up a gear, then drops his hand to your thigh. His hand is big and warm, a bear’s paw gripping your leg, digging his fingers into your skin. You’re glad Amanda convinced you to wear a skirt.

“You shift when I tell you, alrigh’?” Simon asks, one hand sliding under the edge of your skirt as the other turns the wheel to leave the bar's parking lot. You nod quickly, your fingers tight on the stick shift as his skate across the edge of your panties. One thick finger tip drags along your sopping slit, feeling you through your underwear. He gives you the next gear and you pull the shift with a shaky hand, rushing to accommodate him, to show how well you follow directions(to not get the both of you killed if the engine stalls). His fingers don’t move, giving you space as you shift in your seat.

It’s different when you lean back against the seat again. His fingers press against you properly, teasing you through your panties with his thumb against your clit. The feeling of cotton against the sensitive bud, wet and cool from the night air, makes you whine, and push your hips towards his touch. Simon chuckles from the driver’s seat and you feel a wave of heat rush over you.

“Spread your legs love,” He orders, you’re quick to comply, going a step further to shuck your panties so he can touch you properly. After all, you’ve never been one to disregard an order that directly benefits you. Simon’s fingers touch you, spread your sticky slick folds with a pleased noise. He’s got calluses, you can feel the rough edges of them as he drags his fingers over you, and you follow the motion with a slight raise of your hips. “Eager thing, aren’t you?” Simon rumbles, you glance at him, at his lap. As if he’s one to talk.

His cock must be aching from pressing against his zipper like that. He says something you don’t hear, too busy trying to measure his bulge with your eyes. He smacks his fingers against your slit and you jerk your attention back to him. Shift down. Shift down, you can do that. You know how to do that.

Your clit tingles when his fingers find it, still aching from the smack and desperate for attention. Simon rolls it between his fingers, pinching it enough to be felt before rubbing at it. Then he’s up and down your slit, spreading your slick as it drools from your pussy, lubing his fingers to keep toying with you. You try to keep your mind on his words, try to keep your brain from giving in to the feeling of it. He doesn’t stop rubbing just because you need to shift gears, and it drives you mad.

One thick fingers pushes into your cunt and you whine. Your toes curl as you try to force yourself down against the shallow thrusts he pumps in and out of you. The drag of his callused finger against your walls warms in the pit of your stomach. It’s more than your finger’s ever been but it’s still not enough. You want to feel the stretch of him, you’re sure you’ll need it. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit, your hips following the feeling. He pulls away just enough to add a second finger and you moan.

The stretch is divine. Friction heat tugging at your entrance, pushing warmth through you with every pump. You do your best to fuck yourself on your cowboy’s fingers as the slick noise fills the cab of the truck. Your breathing is heavy, your whines turned to whimpers. He gives you just enough to make you eager for more. His fingers are slow and dutiful as they thrust into you, keeping you alert for his next command.

You try to reach for his cock, your fingers digging at his belt buckle. Only to have his fingers leave you, his firm hand wrapping around your wrist to put it back on the gear shift.

“Gotta be patient, Princess,” He tells you, “you want somethin’ you ask for it.”

Your fingers tighten, and you spread your legs a little wider. “Make me come,” You tell him, because you don’t think he can do it at this angle, with his eyes on the road.

“Good girl.” The praise shoots through you like lightening, your nerves on fire when his fingers push back into you. Slow and steady is gone, replaced by a pace that makes your head spin. Simon’s fingers curl, hitting the soft spongy spot near your entrance until you’re seeing stars. There’s a tightness in your belly, and a heat that washes over your cunt. He keeps his attention on your hole, your tingling clit ignored in favor of punishing your cunt for your attitude.

He doesn’t let up when he asks you to down shift. Your brain mush, your hips squirming as your muscles try to figure out what they’re supposed to be doing. You barely manage to get down to the next gear before you’re consumed by the raging heat and tightness his fingers fuck into you. Your whimpers are full blown moans, his name on your lips as you attempt to find the brain cells to beg for him to let you come. It’s all too much, too tight. You can hear the wet squelch of his fingers louder than the blood rushing in your ears, louder than the rumble of the engine.

You feel wet, something dribbling over your cunt, as your head tips back to account for your eyes rolling. Your back arches and all your muscles shudder as Simon’s fingers work you through the slip-splash of wetness. He only slows enough for you to get your bearings. Just enough for you to take in the wetness on the dashboard and soaking the fingers he raises to your mouth. Another downshift, your eyes fixed on him more than the scenery, your tongue swirling around his fingers.

Simon’s fingers leave your mouth to settle over your hand on the gear shift as you hit a gravel road. It’s so dark out, you could be anywhere, but Simon promised you a bed, and you don’t think a murderer would make you come before killing you. The truck is thrown into park, the engine switched off, your brain catches up just in time for Simon to open your door and pull you out. You’re tugged into a little house, and almost as quickly as the door is closed behind you, you’re set on your knees.

It’s dark in here too, but you can hear the rustle of denim, the groan of a man freeing his hard cock. You know your eyes will adjust, you’re already starting to make out the shadows of moonlight streaming in through the window, but you’re dying to see the monster you’d seen straining against his jeans. Simon’s hand finds your cheek, cupping your jaw as his thumb brushes your lower lip.

“Open your mouth love,” He murmurs, “Lemme feel your tongue.”

You follow his command too eagerly. His shadow leans over you, huge in the darkness, and his tongue drags against yours before he pulls back and spits on it. Your breath stops short, your stomach flipping as it starts to kindle a new heat. Simon’s cock slaps against your tongue. It feels heavy, uncut, the skin soft and salty. He drags it over your tongue, barely dipping into your waiting mouth, lubing himself on his own spit. Your head goes a little fuzzy at the thought. Your cheeks burn with humiliation, your cunt aching between your legs. As if he didn’t just get you off all over his truck.

It’s worth a little embarrassment for the way Simon groans at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock. He’s heavy on your tongue, weight against your jaw as he feeds you his cock. Inch by inch, so slow you can drag your tongue over the veins that thrum under his skin. Just the taste of him makes you want to buck your hips, and you reach to settle your hands on his thighs when he hits your gag reflex.

He stills, your fingers digging into muscle and coarse hair. You take steadying breaths through your nose before pushing your head down again. Something bright and ringing like a bell in your head is desperate to know where he stops, to feel him stretching out your throat. You have to swallow, shake your head to find the spot that doesn’t make you gag, not that Simon seems to mind. You think he likes when you pull back, gasping, so you can spit on his fat length and try again. Sucking and bobbing your head as you take him deeper and deeper is the least you can do for this man. That doesn’t mean you don’t feel a swell of pride when your nose finally buries itself in the curls at the base of his cock.

Simon’s hand comes around to cup the back of your head, holding you there. You glance up at him, his eyes shining in the low light. “Good fucking girl,” He growls out, “Just made to take my cock aren’t ya?”

You hum around his length, roll your tongue against him as best you can. His fingers grip your hair and pull you back, your spit slicking his length even with just moonlight setting the room aglow. Simon holds you at the tip, letting you circle it with your tongue, sucking and swallowing down the pre-come that drools from him. Simon’s hips buck, a soft swear dropping from his lips as you take the unexpected inch. His hand leaves the back of your head, fixing his hat where it’s started to tip off you and gripping the sides of your head. You lean back to look up at him, blinking the static of dark vision from your eyes.

“Gonna fuck this pretty face,” Simon tells you, his voice rough, like his vocal cords have been dragged through gravel. Despite the lack of tone, you know it’s a question, one you give a short nod to.

The first thrust of his hips is gentle, testing. You breathe through your nose, let him get acquainted with your gag reflex as you get used to the in and out feeling. Simon holds your head still, inching his cock deeper into your throat with each thrust. You hold your tongue flat against the underside of his heavy length, feeling the pulse of blood, the twitch of muscle as he works himself faster and deeper.

Your throat constricts and Simon pauses, before his hands yank you sharply, bypassing your gag and nestling you at the base of his cock. Your eyes water, your nose starting to run as your throat works around the intrusion. He stretches your throat around his thick cock, you can feel the press of him, uncomfortable but dripping warmth down your spine. Simon pulls you off, and you gasp, suck in a breath as you watch spit string between your lips and his cock. You get one good breath in before he’s fucking your face in earnest.

You whine around the fat cock testing the ache in your jaw as Simon’s hips snap against your lips. His balls slap against your chin, heavy and already pulling tight. You do your best to keep your mouth open, lips sucking at him as he moves. There’s an ache between your legs, a voice in the back of your mind that wishes it was your pussy getting this treatment. You can only imagine how deeply he’d hit you, the stretch of your lips around his cock making you prickle with ideas of the way he’d split your cunt open.

Simon pulls back with a low groan, and come hits your tongue before he’s pushing back in. You blink the tears from your eyes, swallowing as best you can as he comes down your throat. It’s a lot, enough that your hands leave his thighs to cup under your chin, waiting to catch the drool and spend that you’re sure is dripping from between your lips. Warm and bitter, you wonder what he’s been eating since he came to town, if he needs someone to put vegetables on his plate. He pulls his cock out of your mouth and you tip your head back, swallowing the hot come still on your tongue. You open your mouth, tongue out to let him see that you’re empty.

Simon is silent. Something in his shining eyes seems to mirror yours. His thumb strokes over your tongue, with a hum that makes you think he’s got something on his mind. It feels almost sweet, almost affectionate, as his fingers stroke over your jaw. He crouches in front of you, and his hands leave you, only to reappear on your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder as he stands with nothing more than a grunt. His shoulder is broad and warm under your stomach, you drag your hands up the corded muscles of his back and feel a pulse of attraction thrum through the heat simmering in your stomach. Fuck, he’s strong.

You’re tossed onto what must be his bed. You bounce on the mattress and attempt to get your bearings in the low light. Simon’s hat tumbles off your head, and you glance about in the darkness for it. The lamp next to the bed clicks on and you flinch at the sudden rush of light. The wash of warm light is too much after so long in the dark, but you’re faster adjusting to this than the darkness. Simon settles a hand on your thigh, pulling you close as he settles on the bed beside you.

“On me love,” He murmurs and you drag your eyes to his face, “wanna see when you ride my face.”

Oh. He isn’t wearing his mask. His eyes are desperate, brows drawn low to shadow the watery browns that stare at you. His nose looks like it’s been broken one too many times, and there’s a scar running across his lips that tugs a little too much of his teeth into such a pretty picture. There’s something soft to him though, something aching in the length of his jaw that makes you want to hold him close. You must hesitate, must take too long looking at him.

“Tongue still works,” He teases you, the pink muscle dragging over the split in his lip, his teeth.

“You’re awfully pretty to be wearing a mask,” You smile, moving to settle your knees on either side of his ears. (Big enough ears you think he must’ve had to grow into them) Simon hums, his hands coming to grip your thighs and pull you down against his mouth. You can see pink starting to creep over his cheeks even as his tongue drags along your slit. The thought that Simon must not take compliments easily is erased from your mind as his lips close around your clit and suck hard.

The electric feeling jerks through your body. So much time on your knees worshiping a cock that should have been splitting you open left you buzzing and now you’re getting some well deserved relief. Simon’s tongue is hot as it splits your folds, wiggling to lap at the slick you’d been drooling before rolling against your clit. Each touch to the sensitive bud sends another zap of pleasure ripping up your spine. You whimper, your chest heaving with breaths you hardly have the chance to take with the way he sucks at you. One of Simon’s hands leaves you, fishing around on the bed beside you. You frown down at him, pout really, until you feel his hat settle on your head again.

“Gotta keep your- your claim on me?” You ask, though you don’t think your tone is quite right. Simon hums under you, a groan of assent. He tips his head, dragging long strokes of his tongue over your slit. You’re too worked up already, his mouth feels like a furnace, his tongue touches you like a brand. Your hips move on their own, following the course of Simon’s tongue, your clit bumping against his nose as you grind yourself against his mouth. Your fingers hold your skirt up out of the way, you may as well be planning to shred the thing with how tightly your fingers dig into the fabric.

Simon stares up at you, his eyes closing with a satisfied groan as you grind a little more firmly against his tongue. Having his attention on you like this makes your stomach clench. You can feel his smile, feel his teeth just graze over your clit, teasing before he’s sucking at it. You squeeze his head between your thighs, half formed praises on your tongue as you feel your muscles start to tremble from the strain of your tightening orgasm.

The longer he licks you the less you can hear your own thoughts, too consumed by the satisfied groans and slurping sounds between your legs. Simon eats you like a starving man getting his first meal. His hands move to grab your ass, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers, and spreading you open just to feel you. Your slick is smeared over his mouth, smeared over your thighs where his stubble has dragged it across your skin. You feel wet and warm, your cunt tingling on the edge of your second orgasm of the night. His tongue wiggles its way into your hole and you break.

“Fuck me.” You whine, your words almost sobs as he shakes his head. You’re not sure if it’s a demand or simply a needy expletive. It doesn’t stop Simon from sucking your clit hard, his tongue swirling around the bud until your back arches and the tension in your stomach bleeds out in a rush of shivers and moans. Your pleasure coursing through you as Simon licks and sucks at your cunt until you’re jerking at the new sensitivity.

Simon holds your hips, drags you down to sit on his stomach, the firm muscle flexing as your legs are forced further apart by the sheer width of the man. He drags your sensitive pussy against his stomach, letting the blond hair tickle your clit. You pout, settle your hands on his chest to hold yourself steady with even when your muscles still shiver with every twitch of your hips.

His fingers grip the bottom of your shirt when you demonstrate you can grind by yourself. Simon tugs it up over your head and you happily assist in undressing. He’s quicker with your bra, unhooking the clasp before you can shrug the straps off. Simons big hands come up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples. The touch is firm, appreciative, he squeezes the soft skin and you whine.

“Lemme ‘ear it again, Princess.” Simon rumbles. You can feel his voice low in his chest. His hands drop back to your hips to guide you. You don’t need to think to know what he’s asking.

“Fuck me Simon,” You breath, leaning to kiss him. You pull your tongue over his lips, tip your head to clean your come off his face. His mouth opens to catch your tongue, pushing his own to meet yours as you dip it between his lips. His hands raise your hips, angling you to notch his cockhead against your entrance.

You know this part, know the press of your hips down onto him, the breathless anticipation as he slowly stretches you. You must have forgotten how big he was on your tongue. You drop your head to rest your forehead against Simon’s cheek, the stretch of just his head making your eyes start to roll. His fingers stroke down your back, a comfort as you ease yourself down his length. Your every breath feels like it’s softened by a moan. The stretch of him burning against your entrance, his cock dragging against your gummy walls. You feel so tight around him you can feel the curve of his dick, the veins that line it, the ridge of his thick head.

Your legs still shake from your orgasm. If it weren’t for Simon’s hands holding you, you would’ve sunk down to the base of his cock just from the inability to hold yourself up. You attempt to push yourself up from the way you’ve cuddled close to your cowboy, and he holds you tight. The hand which had been petting down your back presses firm between your shoulders, his other arm wrapping over your him. You wonder- and then he thrusts the rest of his fat length into you and you don’t wonder anything else.

You all but collapse on his chest, his arm tight on the small of your back, arches your hips up as you bury your face against his neck. You can feel the mattress dip where he plants his feet before you feel the drag of his cock out of you, and the sweet friction of it sliding back home inside you. You dig your teeth into Simon’s shoulder, the scarred skin dipping under your bite as he fucks up into you.

Each stroke of his cock is like a punch in your stomach. The stretch of your cunt around him, his cockhead hitting your sweet spot every time it nudges your entrance, only adds to the devastating length of him. Your eyes roll, your voice tight when you have the air to let it escape you. He hits something inside you that almost hurts with how good it feels, the electricity of it shivering up your spine and tightening your muscles. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to push your hips back into the feeling.

“Tha’s it, sweet’eart,” Simon murmurs in your ears, “Jus’ like that.”

You whine at the praise, at the groan that follows it. He keeps you held so tightly against him, your nipples dragging against his firm chest with each thrust. You try to kiss at his neck, lips parting to pant with each pull of his cock. He fills you so full and deep you can hardly think. You’ve never had anyone hold you like this, never had anyone fuck you with the same sort of intense desperation. Simon’s lips press to your temple, his hips snapping to meet your weak thrusts with the wet squelching sounds of pleasure following.

Trying to draw a full breath is too much, you moan and squeak against Simon’s skin. Your lips travel over the scarred flesh, your teeth desperate to mark, to hold onto something as your fingers curl against his firm chest. There’s nothing for you to do but hold on and let this man take his pleasure from your body. Your hips stutter, the pleasure hitting you too tightly to keep your muscles moving. The tension in your muscles doesn’t stop Simon’s movements. His groans turn to growls, his lips moving with silent praise as he pistons into your clenching cunt.

The drag of his skin against your soft walls, the burn of friction, coupled with the deep punch of his cock drives you to the edge and holds you there. Every twitch and movement making sparks of pleasure light up your skin. Your muscles shake with the burn of contraction, the ache of being split open. Your cunt burns with desperate heat, and you snake one of your hands down to rub tight circles over your clit. It doesn’t take much for you to fall apart. Your cunt flutters, sucking at Simon’s cock as the attention to your clit shoots up your spine and melts over your muscles. You fall apart, and just as sincerely you fall against Simon’s chest, panting and whimpering his name on every stroke.

He fills you fast, his cock stilled inside your cunt as you feel it twitch. Heat fills you, burns you, marks you from the inside. Simon moans low in the back of his throat. He gives a few short thrusts, enjoying the clutch of your pussy, as you settle into the floating feeling of satisfaction. He pulls out and you feel his come drip out of your hole, sliding through your folds to pool against his softening cock.

"What is your favorite footie team?" Simon asks once he's found his breath. You yawn, wiggling to cuddle against him.

"Reds," You murmur, and hear him snort out a short laugh.

"Liverpool?"

"Can't all be Man U fans," You sigh, and Ghost thinks your voice must be like honey the way it sticks to his mind, "Someone's gotta win games."

Ghost bites down his smile, feeling the way you unspool against him. Your body going lax and your breathing evening out. Do you trust him so readily that you'd fall asleep like this? You barely know him, hell he doesn't even know your name, but here you are.

“Gonna keep you,” He tells you, it feels like speaking sin into the world, tainting this perfect thing that's fallen into his lap, but he's too greedy to care, “Not le’in’ you go, can’t.”

You don’t answer him with anything more than a half asleep hum. Your lashes flutter against his skin, your face pressed against his neck. Wrapped around him with all the comfort he could ask for. Ghost swallows, turns his head to press his lips to your temple, breathing in the scent of your shampoo and the sweat of sex. Such a pretty thing to fall into his arms so willingly. You compliment him too well, know what he wants before he asks for it. He’d be a fool to let you go. No, he’s keeping you, you’re the sort of girl men chase after with wedding rings, and he can already hear the bells ringing for him.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x oc #oc: goose #cowboy au #cowboy!ghost #cowgirl!reader #f!reader #minors do not interact

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jasmines-library · 8 months

Text

Lost and found.

WHUMPTOBER DAY 20. Prompt: “You will regret touching them.” Fandom: Batfam

Summary: After falling into a trap, you are captured by Scarecrow and exposed to his fear toxin. When your older brothers arrive to help you, your fear gets the better of you.

Warnings: Fear, disappointment, beating, hurt.

Word count: 2K

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

You hadn’t been living with Bruce that long. A few years. If that. You were the baby of the family, younger than Damian and in some ways you supposed he resented you for it; always narrowing his eyes at you when passing him the hallway. You often felt estranged from the rest of the boys, never fully understanding their inside jokes or nightly routines. You never felt as though you belonged despite the fact that the older boys had tried to make you feel welcome.

The one person you had managed to connect with was Alfred. When your time wasn’t occupied by training or patrol it was often spent curled up in the study with a book and excitedly explaining it to him. Reading was one of your passions; it allowed you to escape the harsh realities of the cruel world and alfred was glad to hear you rant, it often resulted in him mirroring the smile on your face.

It was a late autumn night when the call came in. You were lounging on the window seat watching the rain batter against the glass. Your brothers were out on patrol and you were the only one left home, so you floated over to the phone, answering it and bringing it to your ear.

“Hello?”

There was static on the other end of the line, followed by a shuffling. And then came the voice of a child. “Please… please help me.”

You began to pull on your suit, listening closely to the girl speaking over the phone.

“My friend she-”

“Calm down.” you told her. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”

She rattled off her location through sobs. “Please hurry.”

“It’s gonna be okay.” You reassured her.

Once you had calmed the girl, you slipped out of the exit of the batcave and began to race through town. It was a quiet night. The rain had pushed many people inside, so the lack of people on the streets really threw you off, but you decided to warn your brothers where you were going, just in case.

“Nightwing?” You asked over the comms, hoping that he wasn’t too occupied to answer.

“Raven?” He wrinkled his nose. “What are you doing out?”

“A call came in. A young girl said her friend was cornered by a group of armed criminals. I’ve got it handled, but I thought I'd give you a heads up.”

“Copy that Raven.”

The line went silent again as you continued to push your way into the city until you reached the location that the scared girl gave you over the line. Only, there was no one in sight. You called out into the darkness but there was no reply. And then, there was a sharp prick to the side of your neck.

When you awoke, your hands and hands were bound together by old rope that scratched at your skin. The floor was dank and dusty and your mask had been torn from your face. You could feel a small nic along your eyebrow, and your entire body ached.

Without full use of your hands, you struggled to sit up when you noticed the figure leaning against the wall across the room. Tall and masked with a straw hat, he loomed over you, observing you from afar. You used your legs to inch yourself away from the humanoid figure, but he outpaced you, squatting down in front of you and trailing a gloved hand along your jaw.

“Hiya little birdie.”

“Get off of me.” You spat.

Scarecrow tutted, but removed his hand. “I’m glad to see you. You see, I've been watching you for some time. I’ve seen how miserable you’ve been. And I've been waiting for a chance to get you alone. I have to say though, it was much easier than I anticipated.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

The villain chided. “Mm, I have something more fun in mind. You see, I've been experimenting with something new. Well, new and improved. You see, my old fear toxin, it was good but you couldn’t really feel. If you know what I mean? So I did some experimenting and I've finally created something I've just been dying to test out. So I figured, why not have some fun while I'm at it?”

“They’re coming for me.” You told him with narrowed eyes. “And you’re gonna be a dead man?”

He tilted his head, resting his hand on the door before he stepped out and shut it completely. “Are they?”

He bolted the door shut, leaving you in the dimly lit room where a thick, green smog began to billow through the vents. You tried to back away from the smoke, but it surrounded you, cascading down all four walls. You took a deep breath, taking in all of the air you could, but it didn’t last long, eventually you couldn’t stand the burning in your lungs and you were forced to inhale the substance, choking as it filled your lungs.

When the green began to fade away, vanishing into the air, you were left alone in the silence. Though it wasn’t long before the door was broken down by heavy pounding, and the masked face of your brother burst through the door.

“Y/N”

You breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Jason. Oh thank god, I thought you weren’t going to come. He told me that you none of you would and I-”

“Shut up.”

You stilled. “What?”

“I said shut up!” He kicked you hard to the ribs eliciting a yelp from you.

“Jason…?”

“God, are you as stupid as you look? Shut it.” Jason kicked you harder, each one growing in intensity and followed by a snarky remark. You tucked your head to your chest, pressing your hands tightly to your ears until eventually, Jason vanished into a cloud of green and you were plunged back into emptiness.

“Oh god… Y/N.”

It was Tim’s voice, shaky as he raced towards you. His hands gripped your arms as he forced them away from your ears. You half glanced up at him, doing a double take when you saw the look set upon his face. It was tender, but laced with worry. You wanted to reach out into his arms, but you were hesitant.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” He bent down and removed the frayed rope from your wrists, you rubbed them. Tim then swung his arm around your shoulder to help you up, but you only made it a few steps towards the door when he flung you over his shoulder, sending you plummeting to the floor with a sickening crack as your skull collided with the ground. Your head throbbed as blood dripped from the crack that had opened in the back of your head.

“Silly girl.” Tim laughed. “You really think we care enough to come and help you? After you were foolish enough to fall for his trap? You always mess things up Y/N. You’re a burden. Nothing more. Bruce’ll be glad to finally be rid of you.”

“Tim, Please-"

He reeled his fist back to land the final blow. You scrambled backwards, raising your arm above your face to protect yourself, but no pain came. And Time was gone.

Fat, hot tears were rolling down your cheeks by the time that Damian entered the room. He narrowed his eyes at you like he normally did. They were so full of hate. You closed your eyes, biting down on your trembling lip and sinking against the wall.

“Get up.” He demanded, voice thick with venom.

You squeezed your eyes shut even tighter.

“Damian… please don’t. I don’t need to hear how-”

“I hate you.”

It was only three words, but they cut right through you like a bullet.

“I hate you.” He gritted out. “You ruined everything. We were fine without you. We were happy. And then you came along and you- you took all of that away. You’re a disappointment. And I hate you.”

Damian didn’t move to hurt you, but you supposed in some ways that's what hurt the most. Not the pain and the beating, no. That’s not what you were scared of. It was disappointing your family. You grimaced as Damian left, waiting for the cycle to start again.

~~~

Damian didn’t think he had ever ran faster in his life. His boots slapped against the concrete as he raced alongside his older brothers. He had never been more scared than at the lack of your voice over the comms. The four of them had been trying you for hours but had had no such luck. That was until Alfred managed to snag your location on the computer. And so the four of them ran.

Dick’s heart thundered against his ribs. He feared what Scarecrow had done to you. He had heard the stories; witnessed the horrors. But he couldn’t bear to fathom what your mind would conjure up. You had seen too much.

When he pushed his way into the warehouse, it was dark. And silent. The four of them kept their eyes peeled for a sign of anything, but there was no sign of you or Scarecrow. That was until Damian spotted the frame of the door poking out from behind a metal cabinet. It took two of them to haul the heavy piece of furniture away. It squealed awfully as it scraped across the floor. When they pushed the door open they had to squint to see you hidden in the corner of the room. Your eyes were wide and you were hyperventilating at the sight of them.

“Y/N?”

“No, no…” You shook your head, trying to back further into the wall when he took a step towards you.

Jason tried too, but it only worked you up more.

“Not all of you…please. Please…”

Jason knelt down beside you, reaching to touch you gently, but you flinched away.

“It’s not going to work.” A voice laughed out from the doorway.

The brother’s whipped round to face the scarecrow.

“What have you done to her?” Tim spat.

He chuckled deeply. “She’s been exposed to my new fear toxin. See, I don’t know what she’s been seeing but whatever it is, you guys are clearly an important part of it.”

Tim gritted his teeth. “You are going to regret touching her.”

They surged forwards, pinning him towards the wall. He fought back, but was no match for the anger-fueled vigilantes. When he slumped to the ground, they were tasked with the even more challenging job of getting you out. But when they moved towards you, tears rolled fatly down your face as you sobbed.

“Please…” You shook. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t hurt me please.”

Damian froze. “What?

“You’ve done enough…please.”

You flinched as the youngest of your brothers laid a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N? It’s us. We’re real, I promise.”

You shook your head. “...no”

“We’re not gonna hurt you, kid.”

“You already have…”

Their hearts stopped simultaneously and Dick swallowed thickly.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

Everything went black as his fist collided with your head.

~~~

You sat up abruptly. You were back in the safety of your own room, tucked away in your bed. Although you were more aware of what had happened, you couldn’t shake the fear that rolled over you. But you weren’t alone when you woke up. You were surrounded by a sea of familiar faces.

“Y/N?” Dick asked when he noticed your eyes were open.

“Yeah.” You murmured groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You just shrugged meekly.

“Oh y/n/n we were so worried.” Damian said. His tenderness was foreign.

“What did you see?” Dick asked hesitantly.

“All of you. Disappointed in me.”

“Oh kid.” Tim looked at you with sad eyes. “We would never be disappointed in you. We love you so, so much. And we couldn’t be prouder of you.”

“But I fell for his trap. I-”

“Uh Uh. You did what you thought was right. How were you supposed to know?”

Again, you just shrugged.

“We’re proud of you, little wing. So proud.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 19 ⛤ DAY 21 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

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entities-of-posts · 26 days

Note

Hi, I have a question not directly tied to the roleplay (though I don't mind if you answer it in that direction): A while ago, you talked about your theory of a potential 16th Fear emerging to balance the emerging Extinction: the Dull. I find that concept compelling, but in that post you also said that each of the powers has an "opposite" due to how people like to categorise things and I'd be curious what you would consider the opposite of each power. (Mostly because I like lists and sorting things xD)

Some do have a pretty clear opposite (Vast/Buried, Lonely/Corruption), but with a lot of the others it's less immediately obvious or simply up to a bit more interpretation. iirc Elias says the Stranger is the antithesis to the Eye, but the Dark and the Spiral similarly foil its central concepts, and I'm not sure what else their opposites would be, really.

Let me just preface this list by saying that this is my own opinion and interpretation, and thus 100% right and correct and indisputable.

I will also say that there are Fears which I would call near opposites, but imperfect mirrors - such as the Stranger and the Eye - and some that just seem to hate each other without being antithesis - such as the Desolation and the Corruption. It’s also worth mentioning that overlap always exist between mirrors, of course; this is why there is a classic duality between the moon and the sun, but no one talks about the duality between the moon and a giraffe, even though they have much less in common.

That said, here is my list:

The Vast - The Buried: the most widely agreed upon. Spaces too large versus too small. The terrible freedom of being adrift in an endless ocean, of freefall, versus being crushed in place with not the space to crawl an inch. You get it. The comparison is so clear and easy that it kickstarts the speculation about all the others.

The Eye - the Dark: extremely straightforward; just as much as the Vast and the Buried, to me. Knowledge versus the lack of it. Stark light versus impenetrable darkness. What sees you versus what you cannot see. Literally symbolized respectively by an open eye and a closed one.

The Corruption - the Lonely: Toxic love versus miserable isolation. An overabundance of company, much too close, under your very skin, a swarm of uninvited guests within your deepest sanctuary who will not leave, versus a life so barren of any company at all that that you might almost start to crave the former. The heat of fever versus the cold of fog.

The Web - the Desolation: careful planning versus reckless destruction. A trap so intricately laid, hundreds of delicate moving pieces and redundancy measures waiting for just the right time… so easily laid to waste by an unthinking, spontaneous act of cruel hunger for rubbles. Man’s quest, since the dawn of time, has been to tame and leash fire. And we still haven’t mastered it.

The Hunt - the End: a wild fight for life versus its cold ending. The journey versus the destination. The two oldest fears. The Chase wants more than anything to never End. The End doesn’t Chase; it just waits. And you’re the one that walks towards it every instant.

The Stranger - the Slaughter: here is the part of the list where people start to look at me oddly, because they’ve often never considered those pairings; but hear me out, and remember that I am inarguably correct. The fear of something Else pretending to be human versus the fear of what truly lies at the core of every human person. The fear of being tricked by an elaborate disguise versus the intimate knowledge of the truth: that those who hurt others aren’t monsters disguised as people. They’re just people. And the urge is in you too. Masks, versus what is revealed when all masks are cast off. And they both have musical motifs which makes for some fun parallels.

The Spiral - the Flesh: the horror of the mind versus the horror of the body. Unreality versus a reality only too physical, only too inescapable. Your brain is lying to you, but your body keeps the score. Follow the patterns, the Spiral says, there is more, they are lying to you, just follow me down - this is all there is, the Flesh whispers, this is the raw and dripping truth, this is all you are and you will never escape it. The Distortion even admits it can’t digest an avatar of the Flesh.

#you can argue with me about these but be warned I will not change my mind. I have given this so much thought and I am convinced about it.#Johnny himself couldn’t convince me otherwise

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crabonfire · 2 months

Text

Scout falling for reader

characters: scout

tags: fluff

note: writing this on a whim and ignoring all the other drafts I really wanted to write! also hi :)

I was writing an enemies to lovers but um....maybe later

I have a love for scout okay :( I'm sorryyyyyyyyy ill do full characters right after this one (I'm in a writing mood for once in years)

and of course reblogs and comments very much appreciated <3

♡Scout♡

• You were really the only true friend he had in the base. He considered all the other mercs his friend too but, he knew they'd never really share that friendship. He felt appreciated, and had someone to talk to who would really listen to him, not finding him stupid like the others do.

• He didn't realize he fell for you. The last time he fell for someone he acted shy, aloof, awkward and honestly embarrassed himself a little. He never knew what to say. So it took him a while to figure out he liked you, because whenever you two spoke, words always came so easily to him.

• The day he truly does realize his feelings though, is a day like any other. Your team, victorious, going out for drinks at the local bar. Scout could never handle himself well to alcohol, and you didn't really seem to be a drinker either. You two were sitting outside for the most part, laughing and making fun of the other team, as well as you listened to him ramble on his accomplishments of the day.

• Though, something lingered on his mind. A question he really thought about for a while. He knew you wouldn't judge, so he asked you your opinion.

"How long do you think we're gonna have to do this for?"

• You turned to him, confused. He continues.

"Fighting. Like- how long do you think it'll take before it's over? I'm not sayin' I don't enjoy kicking the other teams ass or the money we get, but well- I don't know."

Anytime he asked this question, Spy, Demo, everyone in the team really, all just said "not to think about it and to do it until it's done." He was never satisfied with that answer.

He saw how you contemplated it for a moment, seeing a small smile curl onto your lips when you looked back at him to reply.

"I don't know. It's probably for a bit longer, I mean- it's been 2 years. Pretty sure there were mercs before us who fought for this stupid war.*

You paused, "Why? You wanna quit or something?"

He shook his head. "Quit being able to kill people for a bunch of money? No way! I just- I think of doing other stuff. We barely have any free time and I don't wanna do this stuff till I'm old or something. And I know old- just look at Spy. He's probably from the ice age or somethin'."

• You snorted, chuckling a little at his comment. He smiled, he always liked to see you laughing at his jokes, made him feel funnier than he really was. You mirrored his smile, turning to look at the road. The night was a bluish gray, a striking contrast to the liveliness and warmth the bar brought.

"I get it."

It went quiet, he wondered if that was it.

"I don't wanna grow old and retire from this job either. But I don't think it'll be so bad."

"Really? Why?" He asked.

• He saw the way you turned to look at him, that same smile he knew all too well, one side of your face shone so brightly under the bars lighting while the other side was slightly masked with moonlight. Your reply was so simple, but it made his heart race.

"You'll be there. And I guess having you around makes things less worse."

• He stared bashfully at you upon hearing those very words. His palms got sweatier than they usually did as he felt his chest tighten. You must've noticed, because you let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"Haha- that was corny as hell. Anyway, I'm gonna go get another pack of soda for us."

• You stood up and walked back to the bar, but he couldn't look away from where you sat before. His face felt warm, damn.

He didn't know what it was. Maybe it should've hit him sooner, the fact he had feelings for you. The fact that- whenever you pull him in for a hug, his heart beats a little bit faster. When you laugh with him he laughs just a little harder because your laugh is his favorite. That your playful fighting with each other, it really does mean a lot to him.

All he knew was from that day on, it became difficult to think of you without realizing everything it was he loved about you.

♡♡♡

I don't know how to write endings anyway scout fans here's your food I know it's been a while it's okay mama is here 🫂

and yesssss sigh don't worry there are other fics I'm writing 😪 just...wanted to do scout first as a practice :)

hope you enjoyed! reblogs and comments always appreciated, I'd love to know your own opinions of scout and such!!! #scoutlover

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #scout tf2 #team fortress 2 headcannons #team fortress 2 x reader #team fortress two #tf2 spy #putting spy in here cause LOL #fluff #friends to lovers #JKKKK theres no ending LOLLLL #lovers more like DOOMED YURIIII your honor scout is A GIRL!!!

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braxlrose · 11 months

Text

things i imagine 2023 bf bill does

cw: oral (f! and m!recieving), fingering, etc

• if you've been together since the 2000s, he's so so so happy that you never judged him for how he looked and that even though his style changed you still stuck with him. he knows that's the bare minimum but he's experienced first hand how some people treat him because of how he looks and he loves that you're not like that

• obviously, yall still go shopping together like in the 2000s and it's tons of fun. he loves it when you two try on studded jackets together and when you pick out cute platform boots for him

• you two once had the greatest birthday sex in the history of birthday sex because you got him the "greatest platforms in the world!!". His words.

• and I mean it ^^, it went on for like 2 hours and by the time you guys were done you were ready to pass out. but he also had some other gifts to open 🤩

• his aftercare was literally amazing in the 2000s, but it's gotten even better with time. if it was super intense sex, he will not let go of you. even if you were subbing, with intense sex both doms and subs need aftercare.

• MATCHING HALLOWEEN COSTUMES 🗣🗣🗣 also you better hype of bill for whatever costume he does. like that year he did Ariel. If you didn't hype him up 😒 what are you even doing?

• going out and buying costumes with him for concerts

• he said in a tiktok live once that he does out to restaurants for every meal. breakfast, lunch and dinner. so you two do that basically everyday and you guys always order too much food and end up having left overs

• ‼️BAKING WITH HIM‼️

• you guys know how he loves his cheesecakes so you two make him all the time. and he teaches you how to bake some of his family recipes. but it always ends up with you guys a total mess because you were fooling around.

• also the mf is still a massive tease 💀 like bruh back off for two goddamn seconds

• like while you're kneeding dough he'd come up behind you and press his crotch into your ass and act like he was just grabbing a measuring cup. and the mf would just be smirking his ass off if your face got red

• tiktok lives all the time and you two bake together on those two. and sometimes tom comes in and helps you guys.

• cockwarming on tiktok lives 😍😍😍 (someone has gotta write that because oh em geeeeee I'm squirming and squeezing my thighs just thinking about it)

• he bites in bed. like when he's fingering you he'll bite your boob or literally any squishy part of you. and will get horny the next day if he sees you have bite marks on your body.

• he loves going to the beach with you. and you guys go with Tom and Heidi all the time too.

• now im very pale you guys. i hate tanning, I never want to be tan. It's just not for me, so if you're like that too bill will literally lather you in sonnencreme and bring an umbrella for you to stay under

• now if you're not like me and you like to tan then bill will buy you tanning oil and that mirror thing (I hope yall know what I'm talking about bc idk what its called)

• he gives you head scratches all the time because he always has long nails and it feels so good

• ON THAT NOTE, bill rarely fingers you because of his nails, but on the days he doesn't have any acrylic nails, he'll finger you like no tomorrow. but other than that he sticks to eating you out

• bakes you a cake all by himself for your birthday 🎂 he makes sure to get whatever flavor you like the best. strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, whatever you want he'll do it. he decorates it himself and is very proud

• talks about you all the time in interviews and is smiling his ass off every time

• doing skincare together is a must!! you two have so much skin care stuff it's insane. serums, face masks (peel off, paper, clay, etc), lotions, moisturizers, oils, lip masks. literally everything.

• HE LOVES DOING YOUR MAKEUP and he gets so happy when you let him do it

• date nights with him are so much fun because you get to get all dressed up in a sexy outfit and go out to a fancy restaurant. plus the night usually ends in sex

• he loves it when you play with his rings on his fingers

• living room dance parties and karaoke happens all the time and you always end up on the floor laughing your asses off

• he buys Polaroid cameras and takes pictures of you guys all the time. at the mall shopping, on the beach, making sandcastles, you eating, baking together, him dicking you down with his cum all over your chest (who said that⁉️)

• showering together and doing hair masks

• loves pre and post concert head from you 😉

• binge watching TV shows together is something you two do a bunch. he gets all pouty if he found out you watched an episode without him.

• you guys manicures and pedicures all the time and you're always giggling and laughing with eachother the entire time

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7

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saintwyfe · 1 year

Text

࿐ ˚ . ✦ SKINCARE. jude bellingham

summary. begging your boyfriend to do face masks together

cw. none, fluff

word count. 1054

after scrolling through tiktok and coming across multiple videos of couples together (specifically doing face masks and skincare), you had the bright idea of bothering your boyfriend, jude.

"juuuudeeee," you flung yourself onto the boy next to you, who’d also been on his phone.

"what, babe?" he replied, his eyes still preoccupied by what seemed to be some sort of mobile game.

"let’s do face masks together," you whined, stretching your arms to move the phone from his face, attempting to steer his attention toward you.

he shot you a critical glance while dodging your attempts to fling his phone. "uhm…" he paused while tapping away, "let’s do it later."

you scoffed, "i can’t do it later, though." you sat up from your previous position, "please, babe. it’ll be so much more fun than your game."

"mhm, for sure," he chuckled, contesting your statement. you rolled your eyes in annoyance..

"what’s so fun about it, anyway? it looks so... boring. you’ll have so much more fun doing masks with me." you queried, wiggling yourself next to him to see his screen. "yeah, this cannot possibly be fun at all," you added.

watching as he’d been fixated on his phone, he let out a quick mutter, "you raid people’s stuff. it’s actually really fun," he replied.

you scanned the game for a few more seconds before letting out a dramatic huff, turning to the side, and prated, "hmph, why does my dear boyfriend, whom i love so much, hate me?" you flung your hand to your head, imitating some sort of terrible monologue.

his head tossed over to where you’d been hurling. "what? i never said that. that’s nonsense," he retorted in defiance.

you shook your head, "that’s what you’re implying, though."

"how?" he sneered, unimpressed by your exaggeration.

"because, you don’t want to spend time with me, so what can that mean other than that you hate me?" you responded, turning back over to him.

"that’s not true. i actually love you, very much," he replied, "plus, are we not spending time together right now?"

"i mean, yeah, but doing this would be so much more fun. and memorable," you jabbed. "plus we can run a bath or make cookies or something," you cooed, clasping your hands together.

he sighed, placing his now shut off phone next to him, "i don’t want to get out of bed, though."

you stared in disapproval at his uncooperativeness before hunching over to his side of the bed, "you’re actually so lazy." pulling onto his lengthy arm, you did your utmost to try getting him out of his aloof position. him being so heavy obviously outweighed this attempt.

"jude, just get up," you whined, ceasing your efforts. a small moment of silence followed as you eyed him dozing off at the ceiling.

"fine," he gave in, departing from the bed. you let out a small cheer after all of your hard work and dedication.

scurrying to your bathroom, you quickly scanned through the cabinets for the appropriate supplies: cleanser, serum, clay masks, moustrizer… because you weren’t just doing face masks. of course, it'd only be right to do an entire routine, of course, even though he didn’t deserve it after all that tedious convincing.

"are you making it or something? why is there so much stuff?" he inquired, head tilting.

"uhh, yeah…" you drawled, trying not to suggest anything that’ll make him turn away. "wait, let me grab something for you." you dashed to your vanity, grabbing your hello kitty headband and concealing it behind your back.

"oh no, what is it," he cried.

"shh, just close your eyes," you instructed, snickering while fetching the scrunched headband over his head. instinctively, his eyes fluttered open, mouth dropping. "y/n, take this off. i look so dumb," his mouth agape while skimming himself in the mirror.

you chuckled away as you tried to snap a picture. "you look like such a pretty princess."

he shot you a glare before shaking his head, "please, take this off."

"no, no, it’s fine, it’ll be quick," you snorted, still trying to relive his reaction, "c’mon, let me wash your face."

you turned the tap on, pumping your favorite cleanser into your hands before rubbing them together, creating a soapy mixture when mixed with water.

"turn toward me," you commanded, rubbing your hands on his face in a circular motion, but obviously struggling a bit because of the height difference.

"you’re so damn tall," you murmured as he sneered, "not my fault you’re so short." he teased as his arms cradled your waist.

"okay, rinse your face now," he nodded, turning toward the sink. you quickly reached for the cleanser, repeating your previous actions.

after cleansing both of your faces, you grabbed your favorite clay mask, twisting the cap before turning to your boyfriend beside you. with a brush, you dipped into the container before painting his face, leaving it a shade of teal.

"i look so ridiculous right now," he stifled a laugh as you covered his forehead in the paste.

"ridiculously cute," you prompted, teasing him.

he chuckled before flinging himself inches from your face, "oh yeah?" his taunting immediately made you laugh before he pecked his lips against your cheek, leaving bits of blue residue on your face. you pulled away, giggling.

"stop, i was just kidding." you cocked your head to the side, "i meant to say ridiculously ugly," you mumbled.

"hm?" he chirped. "nothing," you said, clearing your throat before turning back to apply your mask after being distracted. he rolled his eyes as he watched you run the paste onto your face, as well.

after covering the last piece of skin, you finally placed the container on the counter before muttering, "20 minutes, okay?" earning a nod from him. "let me take a cute picture, though." you grabbed your phone, opening the photos app, and snapped away. his poses did not disappoint, though he seemed to be annoyed just 10 minutes prior, he’d been throwing up peace signs, winks, and duck lips. you found yourself surprised at the sudden interest, but you realized great minds think alike (skincare & selfies>his dumb mobile game).

"ooh!" you suddenly blurted. "let’s make tiktoks while they set." you smirked. he sighed, but ultimately knew there was no way out of this.

an: gamer bf skincare gf trope 😜 expect more ffs soon i'm gna make it a goal to stop slacking + tysm for all the love on my last post ❥

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine #football fanfic #football imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #football imagines #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham

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addicted-to-dc · 1 year

Text

Hobie Brown/Spider-Man X FemmeFatale!Reader - Red Lipstick

I had to take a break from the Miguel brain rot and shift to the Hobie brain rot. This idea has been stuck in my head for days, so here it is!

Contents: Fluff, teasing, flirting, kissing, Hobie being handsy. Nothing too much. Just that I had too much fun writing this. 1k wordcount

Hobie’s seen you here before, and every time you saunter through HQ he can’t keep his eyes off of you. You practically look like you walked off of a pinup poster, the snug black dress hugging you in the right places with the fur and heels nearly making him walk right into a wall. Nearly.

He knows you’re from that Noir universe, you and your Spider-Man fighting against crime and fascists… It’s like you were made for him. Don’t even get him started when he sees you all dolled up in your suit. It’s driving him mad just not to speak with you. It made sense to not try, especially with how close you were to your Spider-Man.

One day after a very successful mission, he returns with one thing on his mind: talking to you. As soon as he steps through the portal and sees you, he takes it as a sign to approach. Your laughter only urges him forward.

“Please, Parker, you know I’m classier than that.”

Your smile curls upward, a playful look lighting your eye as you notice him. Hobie takes his mask off, giving you a curt nod as he stops in front of you. You look at Parker, your smile growing even more. “Consider it done, lay the file on my desk. I’ll go over it when I get back.”

“You’re a doll, (Y/N).”

You shoo Parker off with a smile, returning your attention to him, “Hobie, is it?”

The tension immediately melts from his shoulders as soon as you say his name. You invade his senses, your sweet perfume scrambling his brains for a few seconds. “Yeah, I wanted to introduce myself. You take my breath away every time I see you, Love.”

“You certainly don’t hold back the charm, do you, angel face?” you ask, taking an experimental step forward before leaning close. “Is that a gift for me?”

Hobie smiles and presents it to you with a bow. You gracefully pluck the box out of his hand. Your eyes curiously watch him as you open the box. Looking down, you see a lipstick case. Picking it up, you take the top off and twist, revealing blood-red lipstick. Without even looking at him you open a mirror he swears you produce from thin air.

As soon as you swipe the smallest amount of color on your lips he smiles, “I knew red would look amazing on you. Fascists hate it, y’know?”

You flash him a dangerous smile as you finish applying the lipstick. He’s sure he’s grinning like an idiot, but it’s worth it. Reputation be damned, you’re something special. You place the mirror and lipstick into a small handbag. It clicks shut gently.

“It’s a lovely gift,” you say, moving closer to him to peck his cheek. You pull back, admiring your handy work. “It looks just as good on you.”

“Maybe I can borrow it sometime, get back to my modeling roots,” he quips. His heart nearly stops at the sound of your laughter. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

Before he can react you give him another kiss, your lips sealing over his for a few moments before you pull away slightly. “I’ll be waiting, Darling.”

You stroll away into a colorless portal, turning around to blow him a kiss. He catches it and holds it close to his lips. You shake your head at his antics and disappear with the click of your heels.

“You’re so whipped.”

Gwen lands next to him, chuckling at his grin. Hobie shrugs, messing with his watch to get a portal back home. “Yeah, what about it? That woman’s fucking stunning.”

He couldn’t wait to see you again. Even though the red was an immense hit, he used his five-finger discount to get another gift for you. Finding another color that would compliment you wasn’t hard, he knew that everything would look good. As soon as he saw the metallic red one he had to snag it. He excitedly opens a portal to your universe. He steps through, immediately taking in the view of the dramatic lighting and architecture.

“I didn’t think you’d show, angel face.”

He smiles and turns around, finally seeing you. You’re in your trench coat, but a more casual look compared to your usual suit. The red lipstick is on your lips, your smile looking more devilish than ever.

“Got a bit distracted,” he says, holding another gift to you, “but I think it’s worth it.”

You close the distance, leaning in close as you gently unwrap the gift. It’s another tube of lipstick. You take it and place it into a pocket.

“You not gonna try that one out for me?” Hobie asks, grinning widely when you pull him closer with his belt loops.

“Help me take off this lipstick, Sugar, and I will.”

Hobie nearly groans at your request, leaning to capture your lips with his. He feels the pigment coat his lips after each passing kiss, driving him even more insane than you usually do. You bite onto his lip piercing and pull back, smiling when he grabs your hips and yanks you close.

Your eyes feel heavy as his hands wander, sliding down to your ass to knead it. You bite your lip to silence yourself. He doesn’t like that one bit. Sliding his hands down even lower, Hobie grasps your thighs and lifts you onto him. Your dress hikes up just enough to wrap your legs around him. His lips migrate to your neck, spreading the red lipstick all over your neck and chest. One of your heels slips off your foot and falls to the ground, your composure gone as you dig your nails into his scalp and pull.

He reluctantly releases your neck, eyeing up the red spread all across your skin. You’re breathing wildly, trying to slow your breathing when he tries to go on for more. You hold him back, laughing breathlessly.

“Your place or mine, Sugar?”

#Hobie brown x reader #spider-man x reader #spider-punk x reader

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xxspringmelodyxx · 14 days

Text

The Legend~

Childe(Ajax) x F. Reader (angst)

A/n: you guys…it is 4 in the morning and I have not slept yet🥲✌️ but I hope you all enjoy this chapter and story. I really had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading! But enough of me talking, let’s get onto the reading! Thank you again and have a great day/night my lovelies🥰🥰

As I strolled down the sidewalk, anticipation bubbled within me for yet another mission with Ajax. Despite the short notice, my excitement overshadowed any inconvenience. Ajax’s enthusiasm for my company mirrored my own, filling me with a warm sense of camaraderie. I had initially planned to spend time with Jean, but when I explained the situation, she graciously understood.

She playfully teased me about Ajax, insinuating a romantic connection that wasn’t there. Despite my protests, she persisted with a knowing smirk, leaving me flustered but amused.

——

“Okay, well when you get back, you and I are going to have a girls day out.” Jean said, a smirk coming to her face.

“And…try not to have too much fun with that boyfriend of yours.” She teased, making your face heat up

“Shut up, Jean. He’s not my boyfriend…we are just friends!” You retorted.

She just chuckled in disbelief.

“Yeah, okay. Just friends…we will stick with that for now.”

——

"Now, you were just moments away from Ajax. Moments away from the man who enveloped you in warmth and joy, who effortlessly brought laughter to your lips when you needed it most. Your heart fluttered with anticipation as his familiar, comforting voice reached your ears. With a quickened pace, you approached, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of his tousled hair.

However, as you finally reached him, your joy faltered at the presence of another girl – the infamous traveler, Lumine.

"Oh, n/n! I thought I had told you... I guess I forgot in the midst of everything," Ajax said, his smile directed towards Lumine.

"Tell me what?" you inquired, a knot forming in your stomach.

"Well... I actually don't need you for this mission this week. Lumine offered to help, and I couldn't refuse. She's quite renowned around here. So, you're free to do whatever you want!" Ajax's words stung, a pang of hurt piercing your chest. Despite years of fighting alongside him, you couldn't shake the feeling of being second choice. Yet, you managed to mask your disappointment with a forced acceptance.

"O-Oh... well, alright. If you'd rather go with her, then I suppose it's an opportunity for me to rest," you replied, attempting to quell the rising jealousy within you.

Ajax's smile and pat on your shoulder did little to ease the sting. "Thanks, y/n! I knew you'd understand! I'll catch up with you another time. How about joining me on my next mission? Next week?" he proposed.

Your smile returned, though tinged with a hint of sadness. "Sure! I'd love that."

"Great! See you then! Take care, n/n!" With that, Ajax departed with Lumine, leaving you with a fading smile and a heavy heart.

As they disappeared from view, your once-wide smile faded into a solemn frown. With a soft sigh, you turned on your heel, making your way back to Jean to relay what had transpired."

*****

"He did what!?" Jean's voice rang out with fury, her fists slamming onto the table. You couldn't help but widen your eyes, taken aback by Jean's uncharacteristic outburst.

"Jean, calm down. It's really not a big deal," you attempted to reassure her, though her agitation was palpable.

"No! He stood you up! Left you in the dust to be with that girl!" Jean's frustration boiled over, her tone laced with indignation.

"Lumine," you interjected softly, trying to bring a semblance of reason to the conversation.

"I don't care what her name is! What matters is that he abandoned my best friend," Jean retorted, her frustration evident in every word.

"Jean, please. He promised we can go another time. He even suggested I join him on his next mission," you explained, hoping to quell her anger.

"And you believe him? After what he did just now?" Jean's skepticism was palpable, her doubt weighing heavily in the air.

"Well... yeah," you replied hesitantly, feeling a pang of uncertainty.

Jean scoffed, turning away from you in frustration. "He made a mistake, Jean! I'm sure he didn't mean to. He just—" you started, attempting to defend Ajax.

"No. Don't make excuses for him. He's not a child anymore. Anyone with an ounce of decency would have known better," Jean interrupted, her voice tinged with disappointment.

You sighed, watching as Jean composed herself. "Sorry... it's just... I hate seeing you hurt. You're like the sister I never had. And when someone hurts someone close to me, I just... lose it," Jean confessed, her anger subsiding into a softer tone.

"I understand, Jean... but give him another chance. I truly believe this is just a one-time thing. He won't do it again. I know it," you reassured her, offering a small smile.

Jean looked away, lost in thought for a moment. After a deep breath, she relented. "Okay. If you trust him, then I guess I should too," she conceded with a smile.

"Good. Now, enough about him. Let's go get something to eat. I'm starving!" you suggested, pulling her out of her chair.

"You read my mind," Jean replied with a giggle, the tension between you gradually dissipating as you turned your attention to more pleasant matters.

*****

I woke up with excitement once again. Today was the day! The day I get to hang out with Ajax and go on an adventure with him for the weekend! I quickly got out of bed, took a shower, and got ready.

I grabbed my sword and ran out of the house, not wasting a minute. I scurried around people, finding my way to Ajax’s and our meetup spot—a lonely little area just outside Mondstadt. It took me a good 30 minutes to get there, but I made it just on time. And there he was, waiting... but again... he was not alone.

"Hey Ajax! I’m here!" I said, my smile faltering just a bit as I, once again, saw Lumine.

“Oh… hey n/n… hey listen-“ He started, but I cut him off.

“Are you ditching me again?” My voice quieted a bit, betraying my disappointment.

He looked away from me, avoiding my saddened eyes. “Look, y/n. This is a really tough mission… and it requires someone with a lot of strength and skill-“

“Are you saying I don’t have those?” I interjected, hurt evident in my tone.

“No! Not at all… but you don’t exactly have any… abilities… visions if you will. Lumine here does,” he explained, his words feeling like a blow to my heart.

“Oh…” I could barely muster a response, my disappointment weighing heavily on me.

“Look, n/n… I just don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all!” He tried to defend himself.

I looked up at him and nodded. “It’s okay, Ajax. I understand. I appreciate that you care for me that way. I’ll just see you next time. Maybe we could just hang out when you get back?” I suggested, trying to hide my disappointment.

“Well… Lumine and I were actually going to go out after our mission,” he added, crushing my hopes even further.

“Out?” I repeated, the disappointment evident in my voice.

“Yeah! You know, hang out for a bit. Show her around town and all that.”

“Oh. Okay. Well then how about the wee-“ I started, but he cut me off.

“How about I just contact you when I’m available? That way we can spend all day together! Does that sound good?” He asked, making me nod weakly.

“Y-Yeah. Sure!” I forced a smile, attempting to mask my disappointment.

He then placed his hand on my head. “Thanks for being so cooperative with me, n/n. I appreciate it.”

“Of course!” I replied, forcing cheerfulness into my tone.

“Well, we had better get going then. See ya later, n/n!” He yelled, grabbing Lumine's hand and running away.

I went back home, spending the rest of my day there. I didn’t tell Jean though. I just told her I was called on another trip that was more important.

******

As you lay in bed, tears streaming down your face, you couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and inadequacy. Did Ajax really think you were too weak to fight alongside him? Despite not having a vision, you had proven yourself countless times in battle, standing shoulder to shoulder with Ajax against formidable foes. Yet, his actions spoke volumes, leaving you questioning your worth as a fighter and as a friend.

The presence of Lumine only exacerbated your turmoil. While everyone seemed enamored by her, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered whenever she was around. It was as if she held secrets, hidden behind her flawless facade. Perhaps it was just your own insecurities magnified by the situation with Ajax, but the doubt gnawed at you relentlessly.

With a heavy heart, you turned over in bed, unable to find solace in sleep. The events of the day replayed in your mind, tormenting you with thoughts of what could have been. Yet, despite the pain and uncertainty, you resolved to let it go, at least for the night. Dwelling on it further would only serve to deepen the wounds already inflicted.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to find peace amidst the chaos. Tomorrow was a new day, and with it, the possibility of clarity and resolution. For now, all you could do was surrender to the embrace of sleep, hoping that the morning would bring a sense of renewal and understanding.

*******

Months had passed since Ajax reached out to you. What’s worse is that he had been spending all of that time with Lumine. You want to speak with him? Sorry, he’s busy talking with Lumine. You want to spar with him? No chance, as he is already with Lumine. You want to hangout, even if it's just for a few minutes? No can do missy. He can’t waste any time now that he's hanging out with Lumine.

He was really getting on your nerves. He sometimes acted like you didn’t even exist to him and just straight up ignored you.

You had been so understanding with him, very fluid even.

You reached out to him today to see if he could hang out with you, but again, he denied. He said he had to babysit his little brother, who you knew very well as you had been his training teacher.

Unfortunately, as you were walking down the streets of Mondstat, you managed to see him and Lumine together…again.

The anger that simmered beneath the surface threatened to boil over as you realized Ajax had once again brushed you aside, opting to spend his time with Lumine instead.

With each rejection, each snub, Ajax's actions chipped away at your patience and understanding. How could he treat you this way after all you had been through together? The hurt and betrayal gnawed at your heart, fueling the fire of resentment that burned within you.

Finally reaching your breaking point, you confronted Ajax, your voice cutting through the air like a blade.

“Ajax!” You yelled, catching his and everyone else’s attention.

He was chuckling with Lumine, his arm wrapped around her.

Your suspicions had been confirmed about them…they had finally become a couple…just like that.

You felt hurt, angry, and sad.

When Ajax heard your voice, he turned with fear in his eyes as he realized he had been caught.

“N/n! W-What are you-“

*smack*

Everyone gasped as you slapped Ajax across the face. He looked at you with shock written all over his face

Tears were welling up in your eyes

“How could you!?”

He just stared down at you with confusion

“How could you just lie to me? Is that what you've been doing all this time? You’ve been lying to me? So you can be with her?!” You yelled as short sobs came out of your mouth.

“N/n…I-“

“Don’t ‘n/n’ me.” You interrupted

“After all these years, a girl suddenly comes in and just makes you change how you treat me!? For months, I have been nothing but understanding towards you! I even missed out on big events just to hang out with you, only to be turned down by you…even though you were the one who ‘promised’ to be with me on another occasion! Just so you could be with a girl you barely even know! She could be an enemy for all we know” You lashed out. Suddenly, Diluc and Kaeya came out to stop you. Ajax's attempts to explain fell on deaf ears as your anger boiled over, drowning out any semblance of reason. The intervention of Diluc and Kaeya was a distant echo in the chaos of your fury as you pushed them away, unwilling to be restrained.

In that moment, all you could see was the betrayal etched on Ajax's face, a painful reminder of the shattered trust that lay between you. As the crowd murmured in hushed tones around you, you stood there, raw and vulnerable, grappling with the wreckage of a friendship torn asunder.

"Get off of me!" you yelled at them, your voice trembling with rage and hurt.

They hesitated for a moment, exchanging uncertain glances, but ultimately stepped back, allowing you to confront Ajax without interference.

Ajax stood before you, shock still etched on his features, his hand reaching up to touch the reddening imprint of your slap on his cheek.

"N/n, I... I didn't mean to..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

"Don't you dare try to justify this," you spat, your voice thick with emotion. "You've been lying to me, Ajax. Sneaking around with her behind my back, making excuses, ignoring me... Do you have any idea how that feels?"

"I-I didn't want to hurt you, n/n," Ajax stammered, desperation creeping into his voice. "I just... Lumine and I, we... it's complicated."

"Complicated? Complicated doesn't give you the right to treat me like I'm nothing," you shot back, tears now streaming down your cheeks unchecked. "You've been my partner, my friend for years, and now you throw it all away for some girl you barely know?"

Ajax opened his mouth to respond.

”Lumine is not just some girl! She’s special and she has done so much for our community!” He yelled back, growing frustrated with you.

"I don't want to hear it," you said, your voice cracking with emotion. "I trusted you, Ajax. I believed in you. And you've betrayed that trust in the worst possible way."

You stopped suddenly when you heard whispers going around you.

“Is she insane? Lumine could never hurt us!”

“She must be drunk.”

“She has no rights speaking that way of Lumine when she has done nothing for us.”

The murmurs around you cut deep, each word like a dagger to your wounded heart. But it was Ajax’s words that truly shattered your world. As he approached, his glare intensified, his voice laced with anger and disdain.

“You should leave,” he spat, his tone harsh and unforgiving. “Before you make everyone else mad. The way you speak about Lumine is unforgiving and unjust! You have no right to talk about her when you don’t even know who she truly is”

Your own anger surged in response. “Me!? What about you!?” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion.

But Ajax’s response was like a final blow, leaving you reeling. “Enough! Go…you have done enough damage already. You have no right to talk about her like that, especially when she has done way more for this place than you ever have! All you can do is fight with a steel sword! You don’t even have a vision! Compared to her, you are nothing! A nobody!.”

His words pierced through you, leaving you feeling small and insignificant. The hatred in his eyes was like a knife to your heart, each word a painful reminder of the bond you thought you shared.

You looked around and saw everyone stare at you with the same look, even Diluc and Kaeya.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you felt the sting of betrayal deep within your chest. Fine. If that’s what they want, then that’s what they’ll get.

You left the vicinity, tears streaming down your face, each step heavy with the weight of disappointment and hurt. Returning home, you collapsed onto your bed, your emotions a tumultuous storm raging within you.

******

Gazing at the picture of you and Ajax, memories of happier times flooded your mind. But now, those moments felt like distant echoes of a past that could never be reclaimed. With a surge of anger, you snatched the frame and hurled it to the ground, the glass shattering into a thousand shards mirroring the brokenness of your heart.

As you stared at the ruined photograph, Ajax's words echoed in your mind like a cruel mantra. "You have no right speaking about Lumine like that… you don’t even have a vision like her. You are nothing."

Curling up into a ball, you surrendered to the overwhelming wave of sorrow, your sobs echoing in the empty room. The pain of rejection and abandonment was almost too much to bear, leaving you feeling utterly alone and powerless.

Exhausted from the emotional turmoil, you drifted into a fitful sleep on the cold floor, your dreams haunted by echoes of lost friendships and shattered illusions.

*******

The next morning dawned with a pounding headache, a harsh reminder of the pain you couldn't escape. With a groan, you struggled to rise from your makeshift bed and stumbled to the sink, seeking solace in the promise of relief.

But as you opened the door, hope flickered within you at the sight of a note lying on your doorstep. Rushing forward, you eagerly seized it, praying for a sign of reconciliation from Ajax.

However, your hopes were swiftly dashed as you read the contents of the letter, each word like a dagger to your wounded spirit. It was a scathing rebuke from an anonymous sender, condemning you for your actions and branding you an embarrassment.

With a heavy heart, you crumpled the note in your hand, the weight of shame and rejection bearing down on you once more.

You saw a couple more next to your door, all the same types of letters. All of them belittling you for being worthless compared to Lumine or Ajax.

You crumpled up the papers and tossed them into the crackling fire, watching as they turned to ash before your eyes. But one stubborn piece refused to burn, its edges kissed by the flames but remaining untouched by their destructive force. Puzzled, you tried to push it deeper into the fire, but it stubbornly resisted, glowing with a strange golden light.

Frowning, you retrieved the unburnt paper from the fire, feeling its coolness against your fingertips. As you unfolded it, you were greeted by a mysterious emblem and a cryptic message, signed "L.E."

“Meet me in the forest near the old abandoned house you used to go to. There are some things we must discuss.”

Intrigued but skeptical, you dismissed it as junk and tore it up, tossing the pieces onto your table.

However, to your astonishment, the torn paper remained intact, defying the laws of nature. You couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease creeping down your spine as you approached the inexplicable phenomenon.

With a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, you read the message again, finding new words written elegantly on the paper, urging you to stop trying to destroy it and come talk to this mysterious figure named L.E.

Skeptical yet intrigued, you chuckled to yourself at the absurdity of the situation. Were you seriously considering meeting a stranger in the forest based on a bizarre message? Despite your doubts, a nagging feeling urged you to investigate further, curiosity tugging at your resolve.

…

Eh, why not. You’ve got nothing else to lose.

You folded the paper and stuffed it in your shoe, making sure it didn’t escape. You grabbed a new set of clothes and changed into them, grabbing a bag and a sword just in case. You looked back at your house and sighed

“Well, this might be it, big guy. Thanks for keeping me warm and safe. Hopefully you’ll do the same for another person.” You said as you went on your way.

You weren’t sure where this was going to go, but a part of you was excited to finally get out and explore…even if it meant endangering your life.

-time skip-

After a trek of about an hour, you arrived at the designated area, encountering minimal obstacles along the way. As you waited by the old house, anticipation building with each passing minute, you scanned the surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of your mysterious correspondent.

“I see you got my note,” a feminine voice cut through the silence, startling you. Reflexively, you drew your sword, ready to confront the unseen presence behind you, only to find yourself instantly thwarted.

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you beheld an older woman effortlessly holding your weapon with just two fingers.

“That’s quite enough of that, my dear. Your weapons pale in comparison to my abilities,” she declared with an air of authority.

“Who are you? And what do you want from me?” you inquired, your voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

She chuckled softly. “Straight to the point, just like your ancestor, Atlas.”

“What?” you queried, your confusion mounting. She regarded you with a quizzical expression.

“You mean to tell me you don’t know who I am?” she asked incredulously.

You shook your head at her question about your knowledge of your family history.

“Oh dear…your parents must not have taught you anything then…especially not about your family history. Well, I guess I’ll have to fill you in. But first, let’s relax with some tea. It’s quite soothing,” she suggested, conjuring a teapot out of thin air and pouring a warm, fragrant brew into a cup.

“How did you-“

“Tea first, questions later,” she interrupted gently, offering you a cup.

You hesitated, but her calm demeanor put you at ease, so you decided to take a sip. The tea was surprisingly delightful, its smooth flavor calming your nerves.

“Nice, isn’t it?” she remarked with a soft smile.

“Very…” you agreed, taking another sip.

“Now, let’s talk about why I’ve asked you here,” she continued, pouring more tea into your cup before launching into her tale.

“My name is Lady Eleanor. And I'm here to be your guide.”

“Guide? For what?” you inquired, taking another sip of the soothing tea.

“For your destiny, my dear,” she replied, her tone serious but kind.

“Destiny? What do you mean?” you asked, intrigued.

“You, my dear y/n, have a significant role to play,” she explained.

“Role? What role?” you pressed, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“You are meant to become the next guardian of a powerful force,” she revealed.

“Guardian? Of what?” you questioned, trying to grasp the magnitude of her words.

“For a unique and potent element,” she answered cryptically.

You sat in silence, absorbing her words and contemplating their implications, as she began to unravel the ancient history of your lineage and its connection to a remarkable element created thousands of years ago.

“Let me take you back to ancient times, nearly 30,000 years ago, when your ancestors forged a rare and powerful element. Among them were seven siblings, each endowed with a unique elemental vision. Scarlett wielded the fiery pyro vision, Evelyn mastered the Anemo vision, and Willow possessed the aqueous hydro vision. Ezra commanded the earthy geo vision, Axel harnessed the electric power of electro, Rowan controlled the frosty Cryo, and Atlas, the youngest and bravest, was attuned to the verdant Dendro.” She began

“Together, these siblings maintained harmony in the world, training others to wield elemental powers and fostering a utopian society. They worked in harmony, each contributing their elemental gifts to sustain peace and stability. In times of cold, the pyro wielders brought warmth, while hydro wielders nurtured the land with water in times of drought.”

“But envy and malice lurked in the heart of one man, Elias. Fueled by jealousy, he sought to claim the siblings' accolades for himself. Learning the secrets of pyro, hydro, and geo, he launched a devastating assault on the siblings, systematically defeating all but one.”

I stared at her, intrigued in all of this new information.

“Atlas, determined to protect his kin, merged the remaining visions, unwittingly creating a new element—Light. This act of courage and sacrifice marked the dawn of a new era, as evidenced by the emblem you received in the letter from me.”

She finished.

“This is the Light element, the pinnacle of elemental power. Atlas wielded it to not only control light but also to command the other elements, a feat that saved the world from certain chaos and destruction. Elias, his adversary, stood no chance against such unimaginable power. After his heroic deed, Atlas was revered as the almighty Archon, worshiped by all, though he sought only to protect and defend against evil. His lifespan extended significantly due to his newfound abilities, allowing him to safeguard humanity for centuries.”

"Centuries? Really?" You asked incredulously.

"Indeed," Lady Eleanor confirmed. "His descendants inherited this gift, passing it down through generations. But after the 10th host, the pattern ceased. The desire for the Light element waned, and subsequent hosts failed to master the seven elements. Now, you, y/n, have the opportunity to revive this legacy, to honor your ancestors and make a difference."

You were stunned by her words, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of such a monumental task. "Learning all seven elements!? It’s hard enough learning just one! I can’t do that!" you protested.

Lady Eleanor scoffed at your hesitation. "Of course, you can! Your ancestors did it, so why can't you?"

You faltered, struggling to find a rebuttal. "I...because...you..."

"No excuses. We must start training before it's too late," she insisted, gently nudging you forward.

"Too late?" You echoed, feeling a mixture of apprehension and determination settling in.

She turned to you with a grim expression.

"Every 1000 years, a new host is chosen... but that's because Elias' darkness resurfaces every millennium. Hence, these past millennia have been so tumultuous."

"I thought you said Elias was defeated!?" you interjected.

"He was defeated... but not his darkness," Lady Eleanor clarified. "You see, when a wielder uses their abilities for evil, their minds become corrupted by the elements. It's a matter of being one with the elements, using them for good, or being consumed by them. Elias, in his pursuit of power, created a new element—darkness. His malevolent magic endured beyond his demise, choosing a new host every 1000 years and taking control of their mind. And with each passing millennium, it grows stronger. This darkness drives people to commit unspeakable acts, and if it were to overpower the light element... well, the consequences would be catastrophic."

"But what about the 11th, 12th, 13th, and 14th hosts? Didn't the darkness defeat them?" you inquired, but she shook her head.

"For the darkness to truly triumph, it must vanquish the light element physically. As there hasn't been a true light elemental host in millennia, the darkness hasn't had the chance to prevail. However, with you as the new firstborn of the l/n family, you're the chosen one to confront this darkness. But we must commence your training now, before it's too late. The darkness typically doesn't manifest until a few years later, so time is of the essence. Are you in?"

You gazed at her incredulously. "How do I know I can trust you? I don't even know you personally," you challenged.

"I am Lady Eleanor, your trainer, tasked with preparing you to become the next host for the Light element," she affirmed with a smile.

"Yeah, but how do I know you're qualified to be a trainer? How do you know what to do?" you pressed.

She smiled knowingly. "Fight me, and you'll see," she proposed, prompting you to balk.

"No way! I'm not fighting an older woman like you! It's unethical!" you protested.

Suddenly, a gust of wind knocked you off the log you were perched on.

“What the hell!?” you exclaimed, as Lady Eleanor smirked.

“Come on, fight me. Or are you too weak? Just like that boy told you yesterday,” she taunted, causing your eyes to widen.

“How do you—”

“I’m well acquainted with everything happening around these parts, my dear. After all, I call this place home,” she explained, her smile widening.

“Now, are you going to fight me? Or just stand there looking pretty?” She said, making you frustrated.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” you replied, determined not to back down from the challenge.

You lunged at her with your sword, only to find a massive rock materialize between you, denting your weapon.

“My sword!” you cried out in frustration, glaring at Lady Eleanor.

Undeterred, you charged at her again, but she effortlessly disarmed you and swiftly countered your moves. Despite your efforts, you found yourself face-planted on the ground, feeling a mix of embarrassment and determination.

Lady Eleanor extended a hand to assist you to your feet, her expression softened with understanding. "You're too slow and too consumed by negative emotions," she advised gently, her voice carrying the wisdom of experience. "Inner peace is key, even in the midst of battle."

As you regained your footing, her words sank in, reminding you of the importance of maintaining a clear mind and calm demeanor, even in the face of adversity.

"I have been everyone's trainer besides Atlas'," Lady Eleanor continued, her gaze reflecting a mix of reverence and nostalgia. "He was the one who trained me... for I am the second holder of the light element."

Her revelation about being the second holder of the light element left you speechless, your eyes widening in astonishment.

“Show me then!” you demanded eagerly, hoping for a glimpse of her power.

But Lady Eleanor shook her head regretfully. “I cannot. Once I had my children, I made the choice to relinquish my light vision to be with them. It was a decision between keeping the light element or keeping my family.” she explained

“You chose what was most important to you?” you queried, seeking reassurance.

She nodded solemnly in response, her sincerity evident in her eyes.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” you pressed, your skepticism surfacing once more.

In response, Lady Eleanor lifted her wrist, revealing the luminous symbol of the light element engraved upon it. Its brilliance spoke volumes, validating her words without the need for further explanation.

“When a new holder for this element has succeeded in obtaining the gift, a symbol is engraved in their wrist for eternity. This is how you can trust me.” She said

You gasped in realization, finally grasping the authenticity of her words. “You… you really are telling the truth!” you exclaimed, a mix of surprise and relief flooding through you, making her roll her eyes in amusement.

“I’ve only been trying to say that about a hundred times,” she quipped with a hint of playful exasperation. Then, extending her hand toward you, she posed the ultimate question, “Are you in? Or are you out? The choice is yours.”

You hesitated, contemplating the weight of the decision before you. Did you truly want this responsibility, with the fate of humanity resting in your hands?

But Lady Eleanor’s reminder echoed in your mind: “Remember… a real warrior never backs down from a challenge. Are you a true warrior?”

With a newfound determination burning within you, you looked up at her and met her gaze squarely. Without a moment’s hesitation, you reached out and clasped her hand firmly, resolving to prove to yourself and everyone else that you were capable of far more than they ever imagined.

“Let’s do this.”

-back with Ajax-

It had been weeks since Ajax had last seen y/n. He felt horrible for what he said…but a part of him didn’t as well and that just made him feel worse. He had tried to reach out to you, but you never responded to him. He decided to go to Jean to see if she knew what was up with you.

*****

Ajax's frustration boiled over as he questioned Jean. "You and y/n are practically sisters! How can you not know where she is?"

Jean met his gaze, her tone gentle yet firm. "And you've been best friends with her since birth, Childe." She replied, making Ajax scoff.

"Then where is she if neither of us knows?" Ajax demanded, his impatience evident.

Jean paused. "Let's go check her house. I've been concerned about her too," she suggested, lying through her teeth. She rose to her feet with determination.

*****

The two knocked urgently on your door, their voices echoing through the empty house. With no response, Ajax's worry escalated, prompting him to kick the door open.

"Childe!"

"What? It could be an emergency," he defended, his concern palpable.

Inside, they called out for you, but the silence only deepened their apprehension. Their shock was evident as they surveyed the barren rooms, stripped of your belongings.

"What the hell?!" Ajax exclaimed, while Jean moved about the space.

Meanwhile, Ajax ascended the stairs to your room, his anxiety mounting. Upon entering, his heart clenched at the sight of the empty space. However, amidst the absence, one object remained—a broken picture frame. Carefully, he retrieved it from the floor, his chest heavy as he recognized the photo within. It was a picture of you and him from childhood.

"She... kept this? After all these years?" he murmured, his voice laced with emotion.

"It looks like she left it behind too... especially after you broke her heart with your harsh words," Jean revealed.

"What do you mean?" Ajax asked, confusion clouding his expression.

"Don't play dumb with me. She told me everything you said to her. And believe me, if she allowed me, I would've killed you already. But she made me promise not to, as long as she promised to pay me a visit every now and then after she left," Jean explained, her tone tinged with resentment.

"You knew she left!?" Ajax's voice rose in anger, his glare fixed on Jean.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me!?"

"Why should I? It's not like you would've cared anyways! You were a total dick to her, and I'm glad she's far away from here! Away from you!" Jean retorted, her own frustration boiling over.

“Well then why’d you even decide to come with me? Huh?”

”I don’t owe you any explanation.” She yelled back

Ajax stepped closer, his anger flaring. "You little—"

"Say it! Will it make you feel better? Especially knowing that you were the reason she left?” She yelled at him.

”You called her a nobody….said she was nothing. After everything she’s done for you….You should be ashamed of yourself, Childe" Jean interrupted, her words piercing through Ajax's defenses.

Now visibly shaken, Ajax recoiled, his hurt evident on his face.

"Now that you know everything, I'm going to leave. I don't want to see your face ever again…" Jean declared, turning on her heel and slamming the door behind her.

Ajax stared at the door, then down at the photo. He didn’t know what to feel…he was…confused. But why? He had Lumine…that’s all that mattered…right? It shouldn’t matter that you were gone…

But no matter what excuses he made for himself…he couldn’t get over the fact that he had lost you…his best friend…maybe something even more than just best friends…

Then and there is when he truly felt regret as tears started to fill up in his eyes…

”What have I done?”

__________________

Part two coming tomorrow! I hope you all enjoyed because I really enjoyed writing this one!

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