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wife-of-all-dilfs · 8 months

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a darling and a virgin | f. odair

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summary: you are a victor from district four, having just ended your first victory tour. after being confronted by president snow, you have no choice but to lose your virginity. luckily, your previous mentor is willing to provide some guidance.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, angst, gentle smut, loss of virginity, fingering, lots of consent, praise, happy but also unhappy ending??, reader takes contraceptives.

notes: i’ve recently found that i’m incapable of writing short smut one shots so… i’m sorry y’all. love describing every detail too much.

word count: 6.8k

Your hands were clasped over the balcony railing of the penthouse you were spending the night in, the vibrant artificial lights of the Capitol burning your retinas as you overlooked the city. You had finally completed your first Victory Tour and were offered one more night in the Capitol to enjoy its ‘luxury’ and ‘generosity’ before returning to District Four in the morning.

For the past two weeks, you had read fabricated speeches to each District, resurfacing both your trauma from the Games and the families of the tributes you had murdered in the arena. The toll it was taking on you was heavy, but you managed to put on a splitting grin for every interview, speech, and disturbing congratulation. But not for your previous mentor, Finnick Odair.

Finnick had been there for you through the whole nightmare, even during the week before your Games. His support was unwavering which was one of the many reasons you had managed to survive from the moment you were Reaped to the end of the Tour. It was hard to tell when his mentorship had turned into something more complicated, but it had. It had become more about feelings than simply survival. Not a relationship per se, but not just a friendship either. You teetered on the line between the two, never crossing it and never discussing the fact that you were both aware of it either.

For six whole months.

When the final destination of the Tour came—the grand celebration at President Snow’s mansion—Finnick had told you it was the easiest part. All you had to do was manage a happy face, mingle with obnoxious Capitol citizens, and eat an abhorrent amount of food. He would have been right if you were a different person. If President Snow hadn’t demanded your singular presence at the end of the night.

You exhaled a shaky breath, watching the white mist drift into the light-polluted sky. The President’s words bounced around your head: Desirable… Customers... Family. The conversation played on a loop in your mind. You could remember the repugnant smell of roses, the overwhelming whiteness in the room, and the way his too-pleasant face lit up as fireworks exploded outside the window.

Shivers trickled down your spine, forming goosebumps that were borderline painful. The fact that you were on the ninetieth floor and wearing flimsy pyjama shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt wasn’t helping either. The crisp wind blew against your body, but you had no intentions of moving to seek warmth. It felt appropriate to stay in the cold when your body would soon know nothing but unwelcome heat.

So lost in your spiralling thoughts, you failed to notice as another body silently took up space beside yours, warming up the side of your arm. This heat was welcome.

“Pretty cold out here.”

A startled gasp escaped your mouth. You straightened up and turned to the owner of the voice, only to find Finnick leaning against the railing, forearms over the edge the same as you.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I know my presence can be a little breathtaking sometimes. Nice shorts by the way.”

He turned his head turned to you, revealing his infamous flirtatious smirk. The dimples in his cheeks were prominent and charming. His bronze hair was perfectly dishevelled as usual, as if someone had purposefully placed each strand to give him the ‘sexy bed hair’ look. He was still wearing his white button-up and black trousers; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone, revealing his toned chest. The outfit had been accessorised with a metallic golden corset-like belt among other decorations that made him fit in with the Capitol crowd, but he must have taken them off. Now the outfit sort of resembled one that a boy would wear to a Reaping. Simple yet formal. Still gorgeous, not that he needed reminding.

Normally, you would retort with a snarky remark or, on the off occasion, flirt back, but instead, you resumed your previous position over the railings. You weren’t immune to Finnick’s charms; you praised anyone who was. You would usually be internally swooning at the sight of him, especially with the way he looked right now and his obvious flirting. But this night was much different. Flirting and swooning were at the back of your mind. All you could think about was your interaction with the president; the way his guards manhandled and escorted you to his study. The conversation that destroyed your hopes of a peaceful future.

Desirable. One word that sent ice coursing through your veins. Or snow, to be more poetic.

“I don’t think you’ve said a word since we got back,” said Finnick, still a hint of playfulness in his tone. He watched your gaze—eyes distant though not really seeing. It was clear something was wrong, so he continued, this time more softly. “You were gone during the fireworks.”

You remained unmoving, staring straight ahead at the city. Only when he uttered your name did he finally gain your attention. As you turned your head to face him, tears began to well up in your eyes.

Finnick noticed the silent distress in your expression and straightened up his stance. He towered over you, brows knitted together whilst his sea-green eyes flickered across your face, looking as if pieces were slowly falling together in his mind.

“He spoke with you, didn’t he?” he said. “Snow.”

To answer his question for you, a tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to swipe it away with a sniffle.

Your arms wound around your torso, hugging yourself as the words began flowing. “After I won my Games, when I was being crowned, he said something to me that I didn’t really understand." Your voice was gentle, just above a mere whisper. “Months passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Until now at least. He told me…” You swallowed the ache in your throat. “He told me, ‘I have big plans for you, Miss (L/N). I think you will be a very valuable asset to the Capitol citizens.’”

Finnick’s face had melted into an unreadable expression. His entire body turned to stone; it was like he was a marble statue portraying a Greek God. All of a sudden, he was sixteen again. He was in Snow’s study, being told that if he didn’t cooperate and essentially sell himself to the Capitol, his family would pay the price. And they did.

With a sad smile, you whispered, “I know what he meant now.”

Something inside him snapped and he broke from his stupor.

“No.” He vigorously shook his head. “He can’t do that. You can’t. I’ll go to him and—fuck!” His hand ran through his hair, making it even more dishevelled. The bright lights from the city were reflecting off his eyes, revealing the shine that was starting to gloss over them. “I can fix this for you, I swear I’ll—"

“Finnick.”

“He’s a fucking—”

“Finnick.” The plea in your voice ceased his panicked movements. He just stood there, looking completely and utterly helpless. You both did. Another tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at him, your voice wavering as you asked, “Can you hold me?”

He let out a breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs and in one fell swoop, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. Silent tears began to flow more heavily, saturating his white shirt which he held you tightly against. There was a hand wrapped protectively around your lower back and another stroking the hair flowing over your neck.

You were certain Finnick let a few tears slip too because you could feel the cold breeze nip at the top of your head the slightest bit more. He mumbled the words “I’m so sorry” over and over into your hair but you just shook your head. You told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t accept it. He had told you months ago about his arrangement with Snow. You couldn’t have imagined what it was like for him then, but you would be able to now. You would know every single little detail.

His embrace tightened as you turned your head and pressed your ear to his thumping chest.

The tears had stopped, and you managed to find your voice again. “Snow threatened to kill my family. What if the customers don’t think I’m good enough and he takes it out on them? I mean, I don’t have any experience.”

You remained silent, awaiting his response. When the hand stroking your hair halted, you realised your mistake. You realised what you had just admitted to him and mentally kicked yourself. Repeatedly.

Finnick moved both hands onto your forearms, gently pushing you away from him to get a clear view of your face. The surprise in his expression was enough to make you want to jump over the balcony ledge in embarrassment.

“You’re a virgin?”

Hearing the words out loud would have sent you over the edge—literally—if Finnick’s large hands weren’t wrapped around your arms. You tried to turn away from him, but his grip was unshakeable. Your eyes began to water again, and you felt pathetic.

“Hey,” he said tenderly as he tried to regain your eye contact. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Your distraught red-rimmed eyes snapped back to him. “Not a bad thing? Of course it’s a bad thing, Finnick! I have to give my body to a stranger despite never even having my first kiss! Let alone sex!” As you said the words, the full reality of your situation began to set in. Panic turned to sadness as you realised yet again, the Capitol was taking another innocence you thought was your own to give away. You looked down, your tone becoming quieter. “I thought my first time would be special. Or at least with someone I loved.”

God, you felt so embarrassed admitting that to him. Sure, a lot of your conversations were flirty and full of sensual banter. Sex, however, was not a topic that came up very frequently. You would never want to accidentally cross a line with Finnick, especially given what Snow forced upon him. So you liked to avoid the subject as much as possible. Now, it was inescapable.

He released his grip and sighed heavily, looking out toward the view as if he were deep in thought. The vivid city lights cast an unnatural hue on his usually golden-tanned skin; even now the Capitol was changing him into something he wasn’t. His eyes shut for a quick second before he reopened them and looked back at you. The only time he had looked this serious was the morning of your Games and the night you returned. It was a little intimidating.

His jaw ticked and his gaze bore down into your own. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something,” he began, “and I want you to know you do not have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to, okay?”

Alright, now he was really starting to scare you.

“Okay,” you said warily.

The hardness on his face remained for a moment longer, but then his expression softened and became the most vulnerable you had ever seen.

His voice was gentle. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

*************

You were sat on the edge of Finnick’s bed, toying with the black satin sheets with a frown. Your room didn’t get satin sheets. It was probably one of the benefits of being the Capitol Darling. Not that you envied him very much. He would probably be content with sleeping on a dirt floor if it meant he got his autonomy back.

Finnick was in the bathroom doing God knows what. You weren’t sure if he was trying to make himself more presentable or hyping himself up to have sex with you. The latter worried you. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. Then again, he was the one who asked.

After you had told him “Yes, please”, he had tentatively but oh-so-gently taken your hand in his and guided you inside and to his room. Neither of you had spoken along the way; you just walked in silence toward something that would either ruin or deepen your relationship. Despite being two victors, this was still a mentor making sure his tribute stayed alive.

You heard the bathroom door slide open and looked up to see Finnick standing outside the door. Shirtless, pants still on, and towel in hand. It took everything in you to not stare at his perfectly sculptured torso, his equally toned arms, or his broad and muscular shoulders. Instead, your eyes met his for a split second before you returned to the satin sheets.

Blood rushed to your head and everything felt too real. Finnick Odair was standing before you, looking like an angel and willing to fu—

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” he chuckled.

But your gaze remained on the bed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.’” He spread the towel on the bed, positioning it in the middle. Then he stopped his movements as he realised what you meant. “It’s not like that. I’m not being forced to do this. I want to.”

Your head snapped up and your heart leapt as those three words left his lips—I want to. For a second, you believed him, but then reasoning came to deflate your hopefulness.

“You wouldn’t want to if I weren’t in this situation.”

He let go of the towel, sitting down mere inches beside you, his eyes amused despite the solemn context. “And how do you know that?”

“Because…” you trailed off, searching your brain for an explanation only to find none. “Because.”

He smirked. “We need to work on your argumentative skills, sweetheart.”

A small smile worked its way across your lips. He returned it with a comforting smile of his own, though the sense of playfulness never left. It never really did and that was one of the things you admired most about him. Even in the darkest of situations, he was able to provide some light.

Rosy heat crept into your cheeks and you were forced to break eye contact again. Hiding how much he affected you was pointless now; if this was going to work out, you needed to be vulnerable with him. With each other. You looked down at the space between your bodies. His hand was resting on the bed beside him and soon enough, it was slowly creeping across the sheets over to your own. He gently brushed his fingers across your knuckles before sliding his hand beneath your palm and interlocking it with yours. You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his, feeling butterflies flutter around your stomach at the small observation.

The both of you silently watched your intertwined hands. That is until Finnick decided to speak up.

“I would,” he said ambiguously, caressing the side of your hand with his thumb. “I would still want to. Even in different circumstances.”

The blush on your face reddened even more; your cheeks were on fire at this point. Even in different circumstances. Was that his way of confessing… that he did have feelings for you? It wasn’t exactly explicit, but it was certainly implied. Oh god, you didn’t know what to think.

You didn’t bother to reply; words probably would have failed you anyway. You just gave his hand a slight squeeze in acknowledgement—well, it was more in appreciation. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make you feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he tried, you couldn’t shake the nerves that were rattling your entire being.

Sex was a pretty big milestone—to you, at least—and here you were, on the precipice with someone you trusted with your life. Did you love Finnick? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that your feelings for him were deep, and even though neither of you had ever clearly confessed to each other, you knew he felt something for you too. Which made everything all the more daunting.

“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head, lifting your gaze to his. “No, I—”

His eyebrows pulled inwards, awaiting your answer. His eyes were so inviting and full of understanding, if you hadn’t lost the ability to form full sentences, you would have found yourself spilling all your secrets to him. He was so patient with you. So good. You had to rethink your uncertainty about loving him.

“I…” you tried again. Your eyes flickered back and forth from his sea-green eyes to his soft, pink lips. As shameful as it felt to admit, you had imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on yours many times before. Usually right before you went to sleep. Never would you have thought the day would come when it would actually happen.

He was still caressing the side of your palm, silently reassuring you, encouraging you to communicate with him. You sighed, closing your eyes. If he wanted you to communicate, then you would.

“Finnick,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”

Your words drifted into the air, stilling everything in the room—the air, Finnick’s hand. Your heart. He just stared at you, unblinking, unmoving, like someone had hit pause on the television at the tensest moment. The tension was tearing you apart and you almost got up and left the room. But you didn’t. Because suddenly, the sides of your face were cupped by large hands and his lips were on yours.

Finnick Odair was kissing you.

His lips pressed against yours once more in one long close-mouthed kiss before leaving again. Shock came and left within seconds and you found the courage to copy his actions. Your lips locked perfectly onto his, remaining still, enjoying the pressure and tingly warmth of simply having them connected. Then your lips moved to kiss him again. And again, and again until soon enough, his tongue had slyly slid into your mouth and you had somehow instantaneously become a master at French kissing.

This kiss felt familiar, despite it being your first. Like something you had done millions of times before, but only with him. Like having his lips on yours was the most natural thing to ever exist.

A hand moved onto your waist and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap, legs straddling his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, mindlessly wandering and feeling the toned muscles ripple underneath your palms as he pulled you closer by the neck to deepen the kiss. Damn the people of the Capitol, but they were right to say he was an incredible kisser.

“Finn,” you huffed in between kisses, “have you got a rock in your pants?”

He pecked your lips once more with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths. “No,” he chuckled. “I’ve just got a beautiful girl on my lap.”

Your eyes opened to see him grinning at you with mischief. Oh.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

You nodded jerkily. “Ye—Yes, that’s okay.”

“Okay, good.”

Biting your lip, you looked down between your bodies. Curiously, you rocked your hips along the length of his lap once, earning a quiet grunt from him.

He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Careful,” his voice was low, tempting.

And of course, in full defiance, you did it again. His warning was a bluff. He made no real action to prevent you from grinding any further on his erection, so you kept moving, and he kept revealing how good it made him feel. The thin fabric of your shorts created a little barrier between his hard lap and the growing sensitivity between your thighs.

Meanwhile, you found yourself never wanting to be parted from Finnick’s lips. With every rock of your hips, your hands ran over every inch of his upper body, eventually settling in his hair. The way he kissed reminded you of stories of District Twelve. A district full of hunger and desperation. Only what Finnick was craving wasn’t the fullness of food in his stomach, but the desire to devour you whole. To ravage you. And by God, would you give anything to satiate him.

Forget what you thought before. This wasn’t just a victor keeping his tribute alive. As clear as the sea on a sunny day, this was a man giving himself over to a woman he loved. You. Finnick loved you.

When you pulled back to tentatively lift your shirt over your head, his eyes stayed on yours. Your breasts were literally bare and he just continued to scan the features of your face. However, you did notice the subtle shift in his breathing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the side of your breast.

A shy, cheek-warming smile crept on your face and then suddenly, Finnick was rolling you over. Your head fell back onto the soft silk pillows, Finnick hovering above you. This position remained for a long while, the time spent simply kissing each other, alternating between deep tongue-filled kisses and soft sweet pecks. There were moments when you both stopped to flirt or giggle. These were the times you entirely forgot the whole reason you were doing this in the first place.

It was just you and Finnick. Two new lovers in a perfect world.

After a while, your lips had swollen with warm, passionate heat. You were flushed and you didn’t even need to look to know your hair was already a tangled mess. But you didn’t care.

One of Finnick’s hands had begun to wander down your stomach, breaking the established pattern of merely making out. You knew what was coming and surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Unlike outside the penthouse apartment, there was no danger. Not in this room, in this bed, or in the hands that caressed you. He grazed across the skin beneath your belly button, causing your body to flinch up into his.

Of course, he smirked at that—the smug asshole.

He returned to your lips before lowering down to your neck and sucking soft, red marks into your fragile skin. His fingers found the edge of your waistband. At this point, you were already breathing like a marathoner.

His lips detached from your neck. “Can Itouch you?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed.

As he travelled down, down beneath your waistband, he pecked your reddened lips once more. A soft gasp escaped you and warmth tingled between your thighs. His fingers were gentle as he began circling that sweet, sensitive spot only you had ever touched. Having someone else touch you felt so much more different, so much more exquisite. Your body responded to his touch immediately, hips following each movement of his fingers, breaths quickening in pace.

Finnick gazed down at you, observing each pleasured twist of your expression. He began to pick up the pace as he noticed your body familiarising itself with the sensation. More pressure was applied and the gasps leaving your mouth were gradually turning into quiet moans.

“This feel okay?” he asked. Obviously, he knew the answer, but after years of having others take advantage of him, he couldn’t help but want to hear your willingness. Your consent.

But you weren’t sure if the words could form. Everything felt like it was vibrating. All you could do was focus on the pleasure his fingers were building.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

His voice had taken on that seductive purr he was well-known for and you just couldn’t deny him. It took everything inside you to muster up the words. “It—it feels so good.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so sweet, you could have cried. So sweet even with his hand stroking between your legs and his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Time slowed as his fingers sped up. Muscles in your stomach were tightening. Your insides were churning—not like when you first entered your Games’ arena, but in the best way possible. It was a sensation you had never felt before, but before it could build any more, Finnick’s hand stilled. And you genuinely whined at the loss of friction.

Then his hand moved even lower, resting a singular finger over your slick entrance. Your eyes were wide, unsure of how to feel with the sudden turn of events.

Finnick’s eyes flickered between your own. "You trust me?”

You weren’t sure if an easier question existed. “I do.”

And his lips were on yours again, deep and sensual. His tongue rolled over your own, pushing forward and then retreating in a perfect rhythm. He almost successfully distracted you from the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you knuckle-by-knuckle. Some sort of sound resembling a mix of discomfort and surprise vibrated in your throat as his finger bottomed out.

There wasn’t much pain. It was just an odd feeling.

Your lips parted from his and he looked down at you, his eyes holding an immense amount of security as he communicated through your shared gaze.

Does it hurt?

You gave him a gentle smile. No. Keep touching me.

He returned your smile with a grin. Gladly.

His buried finger curled, shooting a sharp pang up into your stomach which caused your back to arch up against his bare torso. Whether you considered it painful or pleasurable was uncertain. Perhaps a mix of both. He did it again. This time you settled on describing it as a tight twinge in your lower stomach which sent a wave of chills down your legs. Definitely pleasurable. Only, he stopped indulging you with the sensation after the second time.

Instead, you felt another finger slowly slip inside you and whimpered. Now that hurt. You felt your inner walls stretch with the second addition and it stung. Especially when he began to scissor his fingers inside you. This was him preparing you for the real deal. How you were supposed to have Finnick inside you when just his fingers had you stuffed was incomprehensible. But you allowed him to keep going, trying to enjoy the comforting kisses he pampered onto you.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he said.

Your hands moved to push back his messy bronze hair as he hovered above you. His dimples deepened with a grin and you swore you would endure any pain to keep them etched on his face. After he deemed you stretched out enough, he slowly rose to his knees, unbuttoning his trousers and throwing them aside. You couldn’t do anything but stare. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

The way you gulped was almost cartoonish. How the hell was he supposed to fit? You had never seen a man naked before—you weren’t even sure Finnick was human. He had a body sculptured by the Gods, a face carved by angels, and a… well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint in any other areas. You weren’t sure if the smug look on his face was real or a carefully curated mask created for his Capitol customers. By the way it quickly washed away, you could tell it was the latter.

He began sliding your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Suddenly, you felt extremely vulnerable. Almost inferior. Your knees fell together, concealing the most private part of yourself from him. You avoided his gaze, cheeks becoming red and hot as he observed your naked frame. He had a way of looking at you as if you were a long-forgotten masterpiece, rediscovered from centuries of being lost. No one had looked at you like that before him.

Gently, he pried apart your legs and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Only when he descended and settled between your legs did the insecurity dwindle into the background of your mind. Your naked bodies were hot against each other. His weight pinned you against the bed. Everything that was yours touched all that was his. You thought this experience would feel like a dream, but it all felt so real. You were nervous, you were trembling, and your breaths were shaky.

Finnick was quick to recognise the nervousness radiating off you. His arm curled beneath you, somehow pulling you even closer, meanwhile, his other arm rested beside your head. He brushed strands of hair away from your face, soothing you with his tender touch.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nodded. You wanted this—wanted Finnick. It was just the anticipation that was killing you. Your thighs squeezed his sides to tell him you were ready. For a few moments longer, he restarted the pattern of sweet kisses, rolling tongues, and the warmth of blood rushing to your head. His hand was caressing your cheek; yours were splayed on his back, gliding over the rippled muscles.

Then finally, he shifted, his hand moving south to align himself with your entrance. All you could do was watch his focused expression. This was the moment. The threshold of your relationship would be crossed as soon as he pushed forward. There was no one else you wanted to share the experience with because you knew this wasn’t just sex. Not for him or for you; it was more than that. Something bordering spiritual, breaking the bounds of physical pleasure and entering into a deep emotional connection. Something no paying customer of the Capitol could provide.

He was gazing down at you, half-cradling your head as he began to say, “Are you su—" But before he could finish, you had pressed your lips to his, answering his question. You were sure. He nodded in response.

His eyes were hesitant he began to push his tip between your folds. Your fingers dug into his back, more from anxiety than anything else. It became a game of stopping and starting as he moved deeper inside inch-by-inch, allowing your walls time to adjust around him. Never had you seen someone’s face filled with so many emotions—concentration, controlled gratification, affection. So many feelings twisted his expression. Meanwhile, yours held only one. Discomfort. He was so big; you felt like you were being split apart and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.

Finally, when his pelvis connected with yours, you exhaled a heavy breath. It hurt. Bad. Finnick had the right idea to lay down a towel because you definitely needed it. He had you filled to the brim, stretched out and stuffed. Even the slightest shift in his position had your hands flying to his shoulders in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, just—” You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress a whimper. “Just go slow.”

He nodded. You smiled. Then for some odd reason, you laughed. And then so did he. Finnick’s face fell into the crook of your neck, muffling his boyish laughs into your skin. The added movements had your insides dully aching, but you didn’t pay it much attention. The moment was so innocently intimate that you wanted to stay in it forever. He lifted his head to press his grinning lips to yours and the laughter began to dissipate. Your mouths moved slowly together, full of heat and fervent emotion, and suddenly, Finnick’s body began to move too.

Careful as not to harm you, he slid himself backward in one slow motion and then pushed forward again in another. Pain stung at your inner walls and your lips left his as a gasp escaped your mouth. You were tempted to close your eyes whilst riding out the discomfort but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Finnick’s face. He was so mesmerizingly beautiful.

His cheeks were a baby pink. Lips were a rosy red. There was a thin sheen covering his forehead, slightly wrinkled by his furrowed brows. Those messy bronze locks you adored so much fell in strands across his forehead. The evident concentration and care on his face just made him look all the more picturesque.

While you admired his features, you started to notice the pain accompanying his slow thrusts was becoming more tolerable. There was still a sting, but also a dull twinge in your stomach that had you biting your bottom lip. It felt sort of… nice. And you wanted to experiment with that feeling.

Your hands were hooked around his shoulders. “Faster.”

Are you sure? His lustful eyes spoke.

You pulled him back down to your mouth. Absolutely.

And so, his hips started to rock back and forth at a faster pace. You could feel yourself clench around his cock from the change of rhythm but forced yourself to relax. He thrust in and out, rubbing against the ripples of your walls, tip brushing at a spot inside you that was anything but pain. That is what you focused on—that one sweet spot.

Time went on and he gradually increased his speed. Your lips were swollen and red, no doubt from the way he would nip and suck on your bottom lip in between each flick of his tongue. His breaths were coming out louder, heavier, as were your own. Soon enough, you were in a rhythm that was both pleasurable for him and for you. The pain lingered but it was no longer unbearable. A shudder ran down your body and your pussy fluttered around him. Finnick broke away from your lips with a breathy groan that you swore you could feel in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

His thrusts became a little faster, a little more painful. A hand slipped down between your bodies and the pain faded quicker than it came. He was rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally running his fingers across it which caused you to lurch upward. All of a sudden, you came to the realisation that everything bad that had been clouding your mind had disappeared. The ache, the confrontation with Snow. Everything. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure slowly building between your thighs and in your stomach. And Finnick. His tantalising eyes. His wicked mouth. His throbbing cock.

People always said your first time would be horrible; this was anything but. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you… loved him? Yeah, you loved him. Also because he was something of an expert at sex. You were in a pretty unlucky predicament but having Finnick willingly fucking you was a blessing.

His fingers were relentless, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. And added with the sensation of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you, your uneven breaths turned into soft moans. He fucked, he rubbed, he nipped and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Heat was enveloping your entire body.

“Finnick,” you moaned.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His voice was strained and hoarse.

His hand left your clit, hooking around your thigh, and curling it around his back so he could thrust even deeper. He restarted his rhythm of rubbing circles, but his thrusts felt different. Instead of just brushing that sensitiveness deep inside you, he was mercilessly hitting it. Over and over. Your moans were louder now; Finnick was more vocal too, grunting and occasionally uttering words of praise.

This went on for a while. His stamina was incredible—if you had a moment to think, you would have realised the depressing reasoning behind it. But you couldn’t think at all. Your heel was digging into his back; nails scratching at his skin. Both of you had a layer of sweat covering your bodies, skin wet, slapping and sliding over one another. Your pheromones had filled the room with the smell of sex, driving your need to finish.

Finnick’s mouth had been everywhere at this point. Your lips, your neck, shoulders, and breasts. Everywhere except your pussy, not that it really mattered anymore.

It was hard for you to comprehend how fucking amazing the sensations you felt were. There was heat and pressure pooling in your stomach, increasing at a slow pace, and growing more powerful by the minute. Finnick’s hips moved at a steady pace, but his hand had begun to slow. Even he had to succumb to fatigue at some point. He sounded like he had run for miles though was obviously pushing himself on for your benefit.

Instead of ceasing his tiring hand movements entirely, he switched hands. And that was when the heat in your stomach turned into a blazing inferno. He was much faster now. Applied more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow with a cry. His cock was throbbing inside you at the sound.

“That feel good? Huh?” he practically moaned.

He left kisses across the stretch of your neck, running his tongue over the skin and leaving behind red marks.

“Yes!” you cried out.

Your entire body felt like it was being dipped into a white-hot flame of pleasure and the feeling was only increasing. It was clear Finnick felt the same way. His thrusts were becoming more frantic, he was cursing left and right, and he was practically pulsing inside you.

The heat in your stomach was overwhelming but you needed more.

“Finnick, I feel—I feel—” You couldn’t describe even it.

Finnick nodded, breathing heavily above you. God, he looked gorgeous. “You’re gonna come.”

Your half-lidded needy eyes met his. Something about him saying those words sent a wave of acceleration through your body. You hadn’t known what the edge was until you were on the brink of coming, and there was no stopping it. His cock plunged in and out, pushing deep inside you, practically rocketing your orgasm to the surface with each thrust. His fingers moved at such an intense pace you didn’t even know was physically possible.

As your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth fell open and every frantic breath, moan, and cry was able to escape. Finnick had the same problem. Fuck, he sounded so sexy, it only spurred you on.

Then it hit you all at once. “Fu—"

Every inch of your body tensed. You were sent into a space where white noise filled your hearing and bliss was all you knew. No pain. No sadness. Just ecstasy. Electric sparks jolted up and down your body, rising to your head, and causing you to see stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans were uncontrollable and desperate, voicing Finnick’s name over and over.

His thrusts were frenzied and sloppy, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. He had lifted your lower back into an arch, enhancing the sensation coursing through your body. Your walls were clenching and pulsing around him, so much that he was abruptly thrown into his own high. His hips stuttered and eventually, his cock filled you as deep as he could, spurting out warm strings of white that coated your inner walls.

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers wound into his hair, clinging to him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ravaged your body. Legs trembling and mouth panting, you lay there allowing yourself to regain your breath and ability to move.

After pressing a lazy kiss to your neck, Finnick slid off you, falling onto the bed beside you. Hopefully the towel was enough to save the silk sheets.

Now that you were resting, exhaustion had the chance to cloud your mind. You weren’t sure what the customs were after sex—whether you made conversation or simply went to sleep. The latter sounded pretty good though. A warm hand slipped beneath your back, turning your body sideways and pulling you so you were half strewn across Finnick’s chest and legs. You made no effort to resist.

Eyes closed, you listened to the heart beating inside his ribs. Thrumming intensely though starting to return to a normal rate.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a murmur, sounding utterly drained.

His thumb drew gentle patterns on the skin of your waist.

You nodded against his chest, remaining silent. After a little while you finally decided to speak. “I’m glad it was you.” And then after a few more moments of silence, you added, “I wish it was just you.”

You felt him press his lips to the top of your head. A long and emotional kiss. The whole reasoning behind losing your virginity returned to mind. It felt heavy, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, what was coming was inevitable. You wouldn’t get to stay with Finnick in this bed. You wouldn’t get to belong to him, or he you. You both belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. No matter how much you wished to belong to each other.

He whispered, “Me too.”

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heartss4val · 6 months

Text

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ I WANNA BE YOURS | percy jackson x gn!reader

percy jackson looks at you like you were the one who put the stars in the sky.

the son of poseidon gazes at you with so much awe and admiration in his eyes that most people would think you had just defeated a minotaur with your bare hands, or cured cancer or saved the world from total destruction, something that would be remembered for centuries to come. but in reality, all you did was toss a few nuts to the squirrels that scurried around camp. percy jackson looks at you in such a way that even aphrodite herself would point and squeal.

though, he'd never admit to that. the only telltale sign of his infatuation is the rosy tint that creeps up the tips of his ears every time you you pass by, and his lips that struggle to stay in a straight line whenever you flash him that smile—the one that makes his heart leap up and into his throat. even after four years of friendship, percy still hasn't figured out how to sit next to you and not be totally in love with everything you do.

it's as though you have some sort of magic power over him—a power that he's powerless to resist. and as much as he'd like to deny it, he secretly revels in the feeling.

but percy jackson would never confess his desires for you—not when kronos is still actively seeking to wipe out the demigod population. he can't afford to display any signs of weakness.

but it's worth it, he thinks, to risk everything just to wrap his arms around you and plant a kiss on your lips that would set the world on fire. yet he knows he can't—not without endangering you. not without putting you in harm's way. so why is it so unbearable to imagine life without you, when you were never really his to begin with?

and in those moments, when his mind is consumed with thoughts of you, memories of your touch and your gaze playing on repeat in his mind, he's left thinking, 'did i imagine it?' did he dream up the way your touch lingered on his arm as you adjusted his armor? the way you looked at him across the dining pavilion before turning away, as if you'd been caught in the act of something secret and sweet? he must have, right? because you would never look at someone like him with such tenderness. not at someone hot-headed and impulsive, someone with so many rough edges. no, you couldn't have looked at him like that. it must all be in his head.

you couldn't have looked at him the same way he looks at you.

despite his best efforts to conceal it, percy's convinced that everyone can see right through him. he knows that everyone can see right through him. the teasing from his fellow campers has been relentless—nicknames hurled his way, each one more unflattering than the last. romeo, hopeless romantic, loverboy..

loverboy.

he's no loverboy. not some kind of lovesick puppy at the mercy of some unattainable crush. no, that nickname is only reserved for the truly whipped, those who are wrapped around someone's finger, glued to their side at all times. he's no..

and then his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, suddenly alert. and there you are, all dazzling and gorgeous, a beacon in a sea of identical orange t-shirts and jeans. you stand out as though a spotlight has been trained on you alone. which is weird because to most people you're just another camper. albeit, an incredibly beautiful camper, but still, just a camper. so why is he so infatuated with you, specifically?

maybe he is a loverboy.

the realization hits him like a ton of bricks, and he almost groans out loud. can't he just carve his heart out and be done with it at this point? isn't that what the poets do?

but since he never really cared for those dead old men taught in school, like edward allan poe or whatever his name was, he'll settle for just daydreaming now. he'll settle for stolen glances across the room and the brush of your hands as you reach for a book. he'll settle for relishing in your little touches and how your lips shine in blueberry chapstick until he's ready. he'll admire the curve of your nose and the triumphant hugs you give him after your team wins capture the flag. he'll settle for it until it's not enough anymore. he'll settle for it until he needs more.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x y/n #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson fluff #pjo imagine #riordanverse x reader

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 8 months

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Five.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.7k

Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.

Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.

A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.

It's been three months since you left home.

It's been three months since you saw Bucky.

He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.

He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.

You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.

The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.

Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.

And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.

On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.

You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"This is ridiculous."

Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.

"Good ridiculous?"

She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.

"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."

Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.

"I need these on the menu."

"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."

"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."

"Okay. Fine."

You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.

You know it's because of your Tethering.

Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.

And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.

Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.

It takes time to adjust.

No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.

For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.

For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.

Both are valid. Both are understandable.

You remind yourself of this every day.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."

The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.

"Who is it?"

"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."

Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?

You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.

You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.

He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.

"Hi."

"Hey. Are you the baker here?"

"I am."

He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.

"I'm Rafael."

You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.

"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."

You don't say anything, so he continues.

"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."

You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.

"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."

You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.

You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.

"You're really talented, you know."

"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."

His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.

"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."

"You'd do that for her?"

"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."

"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.

"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."

He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.

"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."

You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.

"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."

The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,

"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."

His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.

"You are?"

"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."

"You guys are married?"

"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."

"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"

You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.

"He's my Dad's best friend."

You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"That... is complicated."

"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."

Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.

"How did your parents react?"

"They don't know yet."

His eyebrows raise almost comically high.

"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."

"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."

"Understatement of the century," he laughs.

You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.

"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."

"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."

He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.

"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."

"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"

"Sure does."

You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."

"Thanks, Rafael."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Of course."

That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."

"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."

"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"

"What kind of surprise?"

"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."

"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."

"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."

"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."

"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."

"I know," you smile. "I know."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.

You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.

You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.

You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.

You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.

You know who it is.

A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.

You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.

He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.

He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.

He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.

"You're here."

You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.

"I'm here."

Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.

"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."

He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.

"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.

"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."

"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."

"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."

"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"

He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.

"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."

You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.

"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.

"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."

"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."

"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."

"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.

"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."

"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.

He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.

"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."

"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."

"Miss you more."

He looks at you, smiling.

"Man, we're the worst."

"Truly."

He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.

It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.

There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.

"Surprise!"

You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.

"Oh my God! You guys!"

She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.

He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.

"I got you something. I hope you like it."

That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.

"Happy Birthday, Mama."

She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.

She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.

"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."

"Missed you. You look beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."

You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.

"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."

You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.

You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.

What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.

When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.

"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"

His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.

"I have to."

"Oh yeah?"

"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."

He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.

"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."

"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."

His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.

"One dance," you whisper.

He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.

I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.

Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"That was close!"

Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.

"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."

"Mama, are you sure?"

"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."

"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."

She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.

"Love you both."

"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"

"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"

You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.

"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."

You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.

"It's not the same here without you."

You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.

You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.

"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"

He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.

"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."

"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."

"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."

"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."

He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."

He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.

"Okay. I promise."

You whip your head around to look at him.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."

"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. I feel it."

You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.

"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.

"I have. What for?"

"The couch."

You process for a moment before it clicks.

"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."

"No?"

"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."

He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."

You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.

"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."

Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.

"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."

You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.

Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.

"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"

You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.

"Please, Buck. Anything."

"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."

He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.

"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Yeah?"

"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."

Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.

"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.

You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.

Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.

You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.

He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.

"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."

You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.

He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.

"You good?"

"So good," you grin. "Never better."

"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.

"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."

"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."

You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.

Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.

You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.

"Buck, I-"

"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."

"Need you to move, baby."

He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.

"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."

Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.

He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.

"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."

The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.

Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.

He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.

"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.

"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.

Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."

You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.

"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.

The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.

Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.

Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.

"I don't want you to go."

The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.

"I don't think I want to go."

He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.

"You have to, baby. It's your dream."

Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.

"You're my dream."

Bucky sniffles, and you continue.

"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."

You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.

"We'll be okay, my honey girl."

You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.

"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.

You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.

tag list part one

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erideights · 9 months

Text

Little pieces here and there (2)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, three, four, five

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Flirting, suggestive flirting, heavy pinning

A/N: GUYS THIS CHAPTER HAS ME ON THE FLOOR, I HOPE YOU ENJOY, THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE and if you like it let me know to start preparing part 3 ♡ (sorry for any grammatical mistake!)

"The One Piece will never be yours!" He shouted angrily, that -now- dwarf with a red nose, giant hands and feet, when he was defeated. Just like in a cartoon for kids.

"You're just a sad, lonely little boy wearing another man's hat!" She could not understand how it was possible that this intimidating, psychopathic, eccentric clown had turn around so quickly into this little thing that was so... dare she say pathetic, but she didn't wanna be too cruel to him.

The moment Luffy declared his intentions again, Buggy began to look around him, desperate for a way to escape, maybe one of his crew members who would miraculously come to the rescue, or an unexpected ally. Like (Y/N).

"Wo wo wo wo, no no no no, wait wait!"

He opened his mouth and begged, probably to suggest some kind of pact, to promise (Y/N) a place among his crew like he did with Luffy before, but before he could say anything else, the rubber boy already threw him into the sky.

And that was the last time she thought she would see Buggy The Clown. Little did she know, she was wrong.

Oh, so wrong.

Let's say that the days to come were anything but calm. From the Kuro Incident™, at least they won Usopp's friendship and the Going Merry, one of the cutest ships she has ever seen, to be fair.

And then they arrived at the Baratie, where they met the oh, so attentive Sanji, Zoro was about to die, and Nami... Nami left with the fishmen. Although (Y/N) was on Luffy and Sanji's side when they claimed something bad was actually happening, because she wouldn't have chosen to leave with them just like that, without a hidden, ugly reason behind. Didn't fit in with the idea she had of the ginger.

"I know someone who knows where to find her," says her "captain" when they all discuss their next step.

"Hello boys!" Buggy's head coughs and exclaims in the most forced, sarcastic way possible. Imagine threatening to kill those people after kidnapping them less than a week ago, and now your life depends on them. Low blow, if someone asked her. "Sweetheart." He then smirked devilishly when he saw (Y/N) a little further back, resting her side on the kitchen counter. Surprised to see him and the way he calls her, she raises an eyebrow and gives a small, amused smile. "Hello Buggy."

"Arg, Doll! I'm so happy to see a beautiful face like yours around here." The clown shouts when (Y/N) comes out on deck after several hours organizing the pantries with Sanji. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye with a little smile on her lips when she leaves a snack for Usopp and goes towards the bow of the ship or, in fewer words = in the opposite direction to where her mere existence is spiritually needed. The clown is already tired of giving Usopp directions after all morning arguing where to go, so infatuated and hypnotized by the mysterious aura that surrounds the woman, he doesn’t give up, and his head floats in the direction of the girl, following her, resting right by her side as she sits on the ground, legs falling over the ship's railing and out to the sea.

"Pretty sure you didn't hear me back there" because the idea of someone ignoring him was unthinkable. A war crime. An insult to God itself. He was still Buggy The Clown, The Flashy Fool, even without his crew. Or his ship. Or his body. Fucking hell, what did he have left apart from the head? "I was saying I'm glad I'm not only surrounded by idiots. Having your beautiful face around here makes standing them much easier." He flirts, winking an eye, which (Y/N) doesn't fully get but finds kinda interesting. "We had a moment the other day, right? It wasn't just my imagination, I know it."

"Yeah, we totally had a moment" She agrees, clearly being sarcastic to everyone but him. "You kidnapped us, you called me pretty, you searched me, I threatened you, you liked it..." she lists, lying her back on the deck, arms raised, own head resting on her hands, enjoying the breeze, the sun, and the smell of the salty water.

"I loved it," he corrects her after emitting a little grunt of satisfaction, vividly remembering that scene. What would he not give to go back and enjoy it a little bit more before the rest of her crew ruined his entire day -week- so blatantly and unnecessarily over the top.

"You're welcome. Any time." She answers after an amused giggle, eyes closed.

"Don't tempt me."

"Now tell me," Buggy resumes the conversation after about 30 seconds of silence. He clearly doesn't know how to enjoy it. He is that type of person for whom silence not only makes him uncomfortable, but also terrifies him. Theatre kid. "What's a woman like you doing with a bunch of insufferable kids like them? I know they're trying to organize their boy band and go on adventures around the world, but you... you should look for someone more suitable to your needs, capable of giving you different stimuli. More mature." He adds in the end with a low, seductive tone of voice, shamelessly feeding on the image of the curve of her body now that she's not paying visual attention to him.

"Hmhm. Maybe I'll look for them." She answers nonchalantly, just because. She finds really entertaining this type of tug-flirting-war. Even if he's the only one that flirts and she just gives him opportunities to do so.

"You don't have to look too far." He was so cliché, how cute.

"You talk too much to be no more than a floating head."

"I could always put my tongue to better use." Snapping her eyes open, (Y/N) holds her breath for a second, taking in what she just heard = what he just offered. That would be, literally, giving head. In all the glorious sense of the expression. Raising both eyebrows, she turns her face on the ground to observe him, nibbling at her lower lip. She seems to consider it for a few seconds, because no, she cannot deny how interesting and, at the same time, weird, degenerate, the idea is. But before he has the opportunity to keep talking his way into convincing her, she breaks into a cruel smile and decides to cut his mood "You mean like guiding us to the Konomi islands instead of talking with me? You're right, you should get back to work."

He looks at her like he was just betrayed by his second in command, hoping she would agree by the expression on her face seconds ago, the way she looked at him and how she was biting her own lip in that tortuous way that pushed him to want -need- to do it by himself.

"Wait, no need to play difficult with me sweetheart, I--" But it's too late, (Y/N) is already standing, grabbing Buggy's head between her hands, and before he could add anything else, she winks at him, kiss one of his cheeks, screams at the top of his lungs "USOPP!! CATCH HIM!" and throws his head like she was playing volleyball, Usopp jumping to be able to reach him, both of them celebrating the pass like children, ignoring Buggy's complaints.

The third time he flirts -tries to- with her, she's back on the deck, helping Zoro and Sanji moving some things around. He begins to scream desperately, and knowing damn well that if no one pays attention to him he won't stop even if that means losing his voice, she approaches, hands on her hips, sighing as she looks at him like someone that is about to regret getting close to a crying, annoying child. "What's wrong with you?" she asks dryly, pressing her lips together. "Ah, my guardian angel. Could you do me the favor of scratching me behind my ear?" Oh. A waaay more harmless request than she expected. Of course, she relents, because she sees nothing wrong with this small favor; she’s quite the empathetic, and in his place she would surely prefer to jump headfirst -ba dum tss- into the sea rather than suffer that itch and not be able to scratch it. After granting his wish, just as she is about to leave, Buggy moves his head much faster than anyone would predict, to catch one of the girl's fingers in his mouth and suck and lick and nibble, in a… God, a sample of what he could do with his tongue somewhere else.

A shiver runs down (Y/N)'s spine, and it reaches a pleasurable end between her legs, causing her to press them together as she inhales deeply.

"Wanna see what else I can do?" He whispers as he releases her. She can hear him over the crash of the waves against the hull of the boat, eyes fixed on his face, will to complain nowhere to be seen. Bold, not in a hundred years she would have expected that. And for a moment, she is tempted. That has been undeniably attractive. And it had a really strong effect on her. "I would gladly show you if you let me, you just have to ask, sugar lips. I bet it's been a damn long time you don't treat yourself--"

"(Y/N)!!" Zoro calls her, instantly exploding the bubble between Buggy and her.

She sighs in relief because only God knows she was close to give up. Then swallows, shakes her head exaggeratedly to shake herself out of his spell, and, licking her lips, gives the clown a mischievous smile, recomposing herself. "Nice try"

"Stop trying to deny the obvious" He tried again for the... 5th time? She /really/ lost count during their journey. Appearing from nowhere, he startled her in the process. He was now in a shelf of the kitchen, at the same height as the girl's face. "The chemistry between us is unbearable, you can see it from miles away." Jumping to approach the edge of the shelf, his eyes look her up and down. "Turns me on how you play hard to get because I don't like easy things either, so I respect your game," he nods, raising an eyebrow "But come on... I know you like me. I've seen how you look at me or bite your lip when I flirt with you, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

This whole thing was really trying her patience. Not because she wanted to fuck him off, but because she knows that all that flirting would end with her giving in and doing something she certainly shouldn't. As of for now, he had gotten her to vaguely consider it, and she had to admit, she was growing some kind of attraction slash fondness slash crush for him, but it wasn't enough to fall to her knees.

He wanted war, tho? He would have it.

"You're right, I like you, but you know, I like my men body and all, capable of grabbing me by the hips and pushing me on theirs, to fuck me and make me scream their name until I lose my voice. To make it difficult for me to walk straight the day after." she whispers, approaching him slowly until they share the same air, her nose touching his red one. (Y/N) closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as her tongue caresses her own lips, almost touching the clown’s ones too. Yes, she likes him, she has some sort of twisted soft spot for men who ranged from intimidating psychopath to the most pathetic human being depending on the day, and Buggy was the perfect example for that. "And you..." she tilts her head to the side, attempting to close the distance between each other and kiss him, but at the last second she withdraws, leaving the poor clown with his eyes closed, waiting for the touch of her dreamy lips. "Unfortunately you're just a head."

"Try again when you get your whole body back!"

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #op buggy #one piece x reader #one piece live action #captain buggy

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genshinluvr · 10 months

Text

Where I Truly Belong

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Villain!Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Your arrival at Teyvat was sudden and you thought you'd be welcome with open arms and new friendship. However, you were terribly wrong. You were ignored, threatened, and chased out of the regions in Teyvat. One day, on the heart island outside of Liyue, a portal opens and an opportunity is given to you. An opportunity where you have power and control over fate. Perhaps this is where you truly belong.

Note: This fic mainly focuses on the reader, so not a lot of Genshin men will be speaking in this overall fic unless it's something huge. I don't know how I feel about this story. I have come to the conclusion that I suck ass at writing the main character as a villain. I thought this fic was going to be longer, but I think it's best to cut it short because I'm not sure where it's going, and leaving it as where it ended is good. This is my first attempt at writing a villain!reader, and I think it's decent-ish for my first time. Again, you guys might think it sucks ass and honestly, understandable if you do think it sucks. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Reader gets impaled, mentions of blood, failed depictions of villainous reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Part 2 of Where I Truly Belong is [HERE].

The day you arrived at Teyvat, you were alone. The familiar faces of the characters you loved were nowhere to be found. You assumed they were going to try to find you and perhaps help you adjust to their world, but you were wrong. No one searched for you; therefore, you searched for them instead. When you found the beloved characters you love before being thrown into Teyvat, they ignored you. Even if they recognized you or had this sense of familiarity when seeing your face among the crowd, they continued on with their day as if you were never there.

You run toward Aether, grabbing him by the wrist. “Aether! I finally found you! I—”

Aether yanks his wrist from your grasp, gazing at you like you had just grown two heads. Your heart drops to your chest, watching the blond man take a step back while the floating girl beside him gazes at you warily. Aether doesn’t say anything, and neither does Paimon.

“Do you know this person, Traveler?” Paimon asks, floating closer to Aether.

Aether shakes his head. “I don’t know them, Paimon. I’m sorry, but you have the wrong person,” Aether states firmly, almost glaring at you.

You swallow the lump in your throat after hearing Aether’s response. Before you can say anything, a voice from a distance calls out to Aether and Paimon. You, Aether, and Paimon turn to see Lumine running toward the three of you with a big smile while Dainsleif follows behind.

Lumine stops in her tracks. “There you two are! I can’t believe you two ran off like that! I don’t understand how you and Dainsleif were traveling companions,” Lumine huffs, propping her hands on her hips.

“I was more of his babysitter, making sure he doesn’t get into trouble,” Dainsleif snorts, rolling his eyes when Aether grumbles incoherent words while Lumine and Paimon snicker.

You clear your throat. Lumine and Dainsleif look at you for a brief moment before Lumine loops her arms around Aether’s left arm, pulling him elsewhere with Paimon and Dainsleif following behind, leaving you standing in the middle of the field alone. Dark stormy clouds roll in, and you’re immediately soaked to the bone, watching the four figures get smaller and smaller. The four figures soon became blurry— you’re not sure if it’s because of the pouring rain or if it’s because of your tears. At this point, it’s hard for you to tell the difference between the two.

You decided to stop by Mondstadt after meeting Aether, Lumine, Dainsleif, and Paimon. Once you reached the City of Freedom, you took shelter and made sure you weren’t entering the city looking like a soaked rat. After the sky clears up and you’re not soaked to the bone, you enter t the vast city. You thought the people of Mondstadt would be nicer when they see you, but you’re wrong. Huffman and Sara from Good Hunter are friendly people. However, people who have visions are the opposite. You tried talking to Albedo, Venti, Diluc, and Kaeya. Still, they all ignored you or acted like you were a crazy person.

“I believe you have one too many dandelion wines,” Kaeya chuckles, leaning against the counter at Angel's Share, nursing wine in his hands.

Venti is sprawled over the counter at Angel's Share. You can practically see birds flying around his head. The poor Bard is not only drunk, but he’s also mumbling incoherently. Diluc sighs, cleaning the cup before tending to his duties around the tavern.

Diluc mumbles, “They’re not a customer, Kaeya.”

Venti scoots over to the Chief Alchemist, whispering loudly to the man, “Is it just me, or does this strange person look like they were fished out of Cider Lake?”

Albedo looks at you for a brief moment before gazing back at his sketch pad, not saying a word to the Bard. Even though none of them have outwardly shown you they don’t want you in Angel’s Share, you know from the way they look away from you and act around you they don’t want you in the same building as them. So, you gather up your things and leave the tavern. You’re used to being alone in your world, and seeing the people you adore treat you like you didn’t exist hurts.

“Maybe the next region won’t be so bad,” you tell yourself.

Liyue is interesting. When you step into the beautiful region ruled by the Geo Archon, you are met with a polearm pointing at your throat. Xiao stands before you, glaring daggers at you with such distaste that it nearly made you want to skip Liyue altogether.

“Outsiders are not welcomed to Liyue,” Xiao spats.

You know the Yaksha before you is doing his job to protect the region once ruled by the Geo Archon, but the way he gazes at you with such… hatred… made you second guess your presence in Liyue.

You clear your throat. “I thought adventurers are welcomed to Liyue, Xiao,” you whisper, hands shaking at your side.

Xiao glares at you, not saying a word. Oh. When Xiao said that outsiders aren’t welcome in Liyue, he meant you. You’re not welcome to Liyue, not because you’re not an adventurer or a tourist from another region visiting the City of Contracts. It’s because you’re not from Teyvat. But even if you’re not from Teyvat, Aether, Dainsleif, Paimon, and Lumine aren’t even from Teyvat either. However, they’re still welcomed with open arms.

“I won’t cause any harm, I promise. Is it a crime to walk into a region? I don’t have any weapons on me, nor do I pose a threat,” you say.

You dig into your pockets and hold your hands up to show Xiao you have no weapon on you. Xiao reluctantly points the polearm in the opposite direction of you and stares at you. You sigh in relief and walk past the Conquerer of Demons. In Mondstadt, no one pointed their weapons at you. In Liyue, though? You can’t really get upset with Xiao over it, really. All he’s doing is his duty to protect Liyue from danger.

When you step into Liyue Harbor, you stop in your tracks and look at the beautiful city. The City of Contracts is full of life, and the chatter of the citizens fills the once-silent air. After the encounter with the four outlanders, the men of Mondstadt and Xiao, you can't help but hesitate to continue further into the city. You know the Yaksha is watching your every move like a hawk. You don't necessarily blame him, but the encounter with Xiao made you hesitate.

Should you continue further into the City of Contracts? Or will the not-so-deceased Geo Archon make you face the wrath of the rock for stepping into his beloved city? Your hands shake at your sides, making you swallow the lump in your throat. You take a deep breath and continue into the city, making sure not to bump into a green-haired doctor and the former Geo Archon. You don't have anything against them, but they might have something against you, like how Xiao does when you step foot into the region. You stand in the middle of the city, staring at nothing. Why did you continue to venture into the City of Contracts?

You searched for the familiar faces from a beloved game you loved so much back in your world, only for them not to like you. It was a rude awakening, and you're unsure of why they treat you this way when you have never met them— nor did you plan on meeting the characters you have always loved. Someone bumps into you, causing you to stumble forward and snap out of your thoughts.

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” you say, turning to look at the person that bumped into you before freezing up.

“Why am I the one apologizing when I wasn’t the one that bumped into him?”

The ginger-haired Harbinger glares at you. “Next time, don't stand there and take up space,” Childe hisses, shoving past you and purposefully bumping your shoulders.

You rub your shoulders, watching the ginger Harbinger approach a certain Geo Archon, his demeanor changing almost instantly as he greets the Archon happily.

You press your lips into a thin line before turning around and walking away. As you walk away, Zhongli looks at Childe quizzically. Childe dusts his clothes and props his hands on his hips, sighing and acting like nothing had happened. Once you're out of view, Zhongli turns to Childe.

“Childe? Is that who I think it is?” Zhongli murmurs, stroking his chin.

Childe scoffs, continuing not to know who you are even though he's very well aware. Childe nudges the Geo Archon to follow him to the restaurant where he, Zhongli, and Doctor Baizhu will be having dinner. Baizhu shakes his head, walking beside the Geo Archon.

“Just to let you know, you're a little bit harsh on them despite you being the one that bumped into them,” Baizhu mutters, shaking his head with disapproval.

Childe rolls his eyes and changes the subject as the two men arrive at the Liuli Pavilion. Meanwhile, you sit outside of the city of Liyue, hugging your knees to your chest. You made a massive mistake of seeking out these people that you adored in your world. You should've started a different life in Teyvat, living among the citizens of Teyvat and living in solitude. But of course, you being you, you decided to seek these people out, only to be disappointed in the end.

You still have Inazuma and Sumeru to explore and visit. However, you want to avoid stepping foot in the two other regions after what happened with the outlanders, the men of Mondstadt, Xiao, and Childe. You have yet to meet Zhongli and Baizhu, so you can't make a judgment on how they would treat you upon meeting for the first time. But if Xiao reacted in such a way when you entered Liyue, who knows how Zhongli and Baizhu would react?

You nearly forgot how fast time passes in Teyvat. One minute it was the afternoon, and when you blink, the sun is already setting. Technically, time doesn't change in a blink of an eye, but it does feel like it in Teyvat. You close your eyes and rest your head on your knees. Would visiting Inazuma and Sumeru hurt? You're not going to try to meet the beloved characters you know and love. You want to see the architecture and city up close.

And that is what you did. You went to the two regions, made sure to avoid bumping into any familiar faces, and somewhat succeeded. However, it lasted only a short time when Itto and Scaramouche brought awareness to your presence in Sumeru and Inazuma. So, you left the two regions in a hurry, and now you're on this little heart island far out of Liyue, sitting at the edge of the island.

You bury your feet into the sand, watching the waters crash to shore and wet the sand above your feet. You wiggle your toes and shield your eyes from the sun. A large portal suddenly opens beside you, making you jump and stumble back. A tall Abyss Lector emerges from the portal, arms open and hovering toward you.

“Stay back!” You scream, grabbing the nearest object to use as a weapon.

The Abyss Lector cackles and stops before you, leaving a reasonable distance between you two. The Abyss Lector continues to stare at you in silence as if waiting for you to calm down. You take a step back. The Abyss Lector crosses their arms over their chest, chest rumbling with laughter.

“What do you want from me?” You whisper.

“Watching you try and fail over and over is pathetic,” says the Abyss Lector.

You stare at the being before you blankly. Oh, so the Abyss Lector has been watching you try to befriend the beloved heroes of each region with mirth. Yeah, you would be doing the same thing if you weren't, well, you. You cross your arms over your chest and sigh as a sense of dread falls over you. You're alone in this heart island with the Abyss Lector, probably their next target aside from Teyvat and the Archons.

“If you're going to insult me, can you do it after you kill me? It'll save me from the embarrassment,” you mutter.

The Abyss Lector howls with laughter, head thrown back, shoulders bouncing. “Kill you? I have a proposition for you, and you are to decide whether you want to do it or not,” says the Abyss Lector.

You can't help but be wary of the Abyss Lector. While the Abyss Lector has yet to harm you, the Abyss has caused catastrophic harm in the past. You decide to listen to the Abyss Lector's proposition. The Abyssal creature went on a ten-minute tangent about the offer and would answer many of your pressing questions. To your surprise, the Abyss Lector was patient with your questions and had no issues with you not understanding certain parts of the proposition. You're grateful the Abyss Lector didn't attack you upon first meeting you— technically, the Abyss Lector created a portal near you on the heart island outside of Liyue.

“So? Do we have a deal or no deal?” asks the Abyss Lector, holding their hands out.

You press your lips into a thin line. Is this really what you want to do? You can’t turn your back on the people you adore. However, with how they treated you…. Does it really matter at this point?

You furrow your eyebrows, nodding. “I accept your offer,” you say, placing your hand in the Abyss Lector's hand.

The Abyss Lector claps their hands. “Wonderful! Please, step into the portal, and we shall start our journey together,” says the Abyss Lector.

The Abyss Lector lets out a cackle and opens the portal. You and the Abyss Lector step into the portal, sealing your fate. Time flies in the Abyss— three days on Teyvat is three months in the Abyss. You didn't mind the drastic change of time and how fast time flies by in the Abyss. It took some time, but you were able to get used to it. Because you're not from Teyvat or from their universe, you mapped out the areas on Teyvat for the Abyss Order to target. You didn't have to do the attacking and invading like the Abyss Herald, Abyss Lectors, and other Abyssal creatures. All you have to do is sit on the throne and tell them what to do.

You sit on the throne in the Abyss, leaning on your right arm and watching the Abyssal creatures roam around. As the ruler of the Abyss Order, there wasn't much for you to do. Sometimes you would embark on your journey to Teyvat with the Abyss Lector, witnessing the damage being done to Teyvat. Usually, you would feel anger and sadness when the Abyss Order is harming the citizens of Teyvat and wanting to inflict harm on the Archons, but now? You could care less about what is being done to the people of Teyvat and their Archons.

“Your Highness, it's time,” says the Abyss Lector, kneeling at the foot of the throne.

This isn't the first time you'll be visiting Teyvat while the Abyss Order is running amock on Teyvat. But for some reason, you can't help but feel anxious about visiting Teyvat. The Abyss Lector, named Agnarr, holds their hand out for you to take. You take a deep breath and grab Agnarr's hand. Egill levitates forward, nodding. The two Abyss Lectors lead you out of the throne room of the Abyss, opening the portal to Teyvat.

Sumeru is on fire— literally. You and the two Abyss Lectors stand afar, watching the citizens of Sumeru scream and scramble out of the city while it's engulfed in flames. You see familiar faces running to the farthest part of Sumeru, but you pay no attention. Other Abyss Lectors and Heralds open various portals around Sumeru City, floating toward the Great Tree. Abyss Mages emerge out of thin air, cackling and attacking those they see.

“What do you think, Your Highness?” asks Enjou, appearing out of thin air, startling you.

You press your hand against your racing heart and take a deep breath. You turn to Enjou, glaring at the Pyro Abyss Lector, who cackles after seeing your reaction. You huff and glare at Enjou, who is now levitating before you with his arms over his chest. Enjou has the tendency to scare the crap out of you at every chance he gets. On the other hand, Agnarr and Egill aren't fond of the idea of Enjou popping on and out of places to get a reaction out of you.

You take a deep breath. “Enjou, can you please stop doing that?” You ask.

Enjou hums. “Hmmm, I don't think I can do that, Your Highness. It's my job to make sure you're stealthy and always alert! Who knows, someone could attack you while we're not at your side,” Enjou says nonchalantly.

“They needn't worry about their safety when they're with us,” Agnarr hisses at Enjou.

Egill scoffs, crossing their arms over their chest. “As if we'd let them be in harm's way. Those who try to take the Abyss Order's Ruler shall fall and watch the world around them burn,” Egill hisses.

Enjou raises his hands, shaking his head. You sigh, turning back to the scene of the burning city of Sumeru. The screams and cries fill the chilly night, sending chills down your spine. It has taken you months to get used to hearing the anguished screams of the citizens of Teyvat, but the more you listen to it, the more you have gotten used to it. While you did not want to hurt the citizens of Teyvat and only specific people who have hurt you and turned you away, the Abyss Order spares no one. Not even children and animals.

“Burning down buildings and villages won't do much for the Abyss Order,” you murmur, stroking your chin. “We'll discuss this when we return to the Abyss.”

Agnarr, Enjou, and Egill nod their heads. You yawn as Egill opens a portal to the Abyss. The three Abyss Lectors all levitate toward the portal with you by their side. Before you can step into the portal, an arrow flies by your face, forcing you to come to a stop. Agnarr and Egill step in front of you to shield you from harm, glaring at the perpetrator. You peek from their arms to see what's going on, only to realize Enjou is standing in front of Agnarr and Egill, blocking the perpetrator's view of you.

“Who dares to try to harm their Highness!” Enjou growls, his hands bursting into flames.

You hear a familiar laugh— a bitter laugh that causes goosebumps to appear on your arms. Childe.

“As if they weren't the ones that cause mass chaos on Teyvat,” Al Haitham hisses.

You peek from behind Agnarr's arms to see Al Haitham standing there, glaring at the three Abyss Lectors. Al Haitham isn't alone. In fact, he's accompanied by twenty-six familiar faces, along with Lumine and Paimon, standing beside her twin brother and Dainsleif. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. You yawn dramatically, grabbing everyone's attention.

“If you're all finished with the dramatic entrance, I will be returning to my humble abode now,” you say with a blasé attitude.

Another arrow is shot, flying past your face and slicing your cheek open. You lightly touch the fresh cut on your cheek and gaze at the crimson blood on the tips of your fingers. You scoff, gazing at Gorou, who glares at you and bares his fangs, growling lowly. You wipe the blood on your clothes, shaking your head.

“Oh? So, you want to start something you can't finish?” You smirk bitterly. “Fine, have it your way, pests.”

Itto smirks. “Something we can't finish? I'm pretty sure you're the one that started something that you cannot finish!” Itto proclaims.

You prop your hands on your hips, glaring at the Oni. You cover your face with both hands briefly, sweeping your hands up and back your head, and your appearance changes instantly. Your eyes are bitch black, and the tips of your fingers are pitch black and dark blue with specs of glimmering stars that mimic the galaxy. A long cape similar to Dainsleif's drapes down your back and pools around your feet.

You close your eyes and begin muttering under your breath, your hair illuminating, and the shadows below you come to life, slithering toward your attackers. The first person to be snatched and dragged was Itto because of his annoying egotistical, and overly confident attitude. You hate how obnoxious he is, and he was once your favorite character from Inazuma due to his personality.

But the longer you stay on Teyvat, the more you can't handle his loud personality. He reminds you too much of a particular person back in your world, and, quite frankly, hurting him will be another way of harming the person you knew in your world without actually harming them. Your patience and sanity have withered away, and you want to make them feel your wrath for how they have treated you since your arrival.

The shadowy tentacles wrap around Itto's ankles, yanking him up into the air before throwing him to the side. Itto lands on the ground with a hard thud, groaning in pain. You snicker and levitate in the air, crossing one leg over the other with your arms over your chest. A portal opens up behind you, and Dainsleif, Lumine, and Aether emerge from the portal, tackling you to the ground. You open the dirt ground, letting it swallow the four of you.

“How dare you attack the Ruler of the Abyss Order!” Enjou howls with anger, throwing balls of flames at your attackers.

Another portal opens beside Agnarr and Egill. You step out of the portal, dusting your clothes off with an infuriated sigh. Agnarr and Egill quickly whisk you away, opening up another portal. Scaramouche growls with anger, pointing at the portal as you, Agnarr, and Egill levitate away.

“They're getting away! Don't let them get away, dammit!” Scaramouche screams.

Xiao growls and appears before you in a blink of an eye and manages to kick you away from the two Abyss Lectors, sending you tumbling to the ground. You groan and kneel, looking up to see Xiao looming over you. Xiao clutches his jade spear so tight that he can snap it in half. The same jade spear you managed to get for him after blowing hundreds of dollars for that weapon on the damn weapon banner. Xiao raises his polearm up, preparing to impale you with his polearm.

You wince and look away, bracing yourself to get impaled. You hear a loud squelch, a pained gasp, and an anguished scream. You turn to see Enjou's left hand sticking out of Xiao's chest— where his heart should be. You gulp and watch Enjou throw Xiao to the side, letting the Yaksha bleed out on the grass. Agnarr and Egill rush to you, pull you by your arm, and create a portal. The four of you soon fled the scene.

“How disappointing. I wanted to see them all perish,” you sigh, plopping on your throne while rubbing your temples. “But it looks like I'll have to wait another day to witness the downfall.”

Agnarr comes forward. “Your Highness, are you alright?” asks Agnarr.

“I'm fine, Agnarr. I'm not physically harmed,” you murmur.

Egill gestures to your cheek. You subconsciously touch the wound on your cheek, feeling the stinging thin cut. It's a mere flesh wound, nothing more, nothing less. It's not like it can kill you unless it's laced with poison. If the arrowhead were to be laced with poison, you would've known immediately. It seems like this attack was more improvised than planned, given the fact how messy it turned out for the opposing side.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I'm fine, Egill. It's a mere cut. It won't kill me,” you murmur, brushing away Egill's concern.

The one thing you wish didn't happen was fleeing the scene so quickly. You wanted to watch the opposing side fall. You want to witness the bloodshed in Sumeru. Due to a certain Yaksha almost successfully slaying you, you had to be ushered immediately out of the battlefield and to safety.

“That Adeptus nearly killed you, your Highness. That is inexcusable, and he deserves every ounce of punishment from the Abyss Order,” Agnarr hisses.

You chuckle, shaking your head. It would be funny to see Xiao try and kill you. If he did manage to kill you successfully, the Ruler of the Abyss Order, then who knows how the Abyss Order will react. Watching the downfall of the Archons and the citizens of Teyvat is something you surely do not want to miss out on.

“I agree with you, Agnarr. Those who intentionally try to harm the ruler of the Abyss Order shall fall and watch the world around them burn and crumble to the ground,” you nod.

After what happened today, you will not be returning to Teyvat until further notice. It's best to remain in the shadows while the Abyss Order does what you say from behind the scenes. In order to take down an entire region, aside from terrorizing the cities and its citizens, you need to take down the beloved Archons of each nation. But the question is: what Archon is going to be your first target? The Anemo Archon? The Geo Archon? The Electro Archon? The Dendro Archon? Heck, maybe the Hydro Archon? You have yet to step foot into the City of Justice, but seeing some familiar faces from her region makes your blood boil.

“What is on your mind, Your Highness?” Enjou asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “Which Archons do you think is the most annoying?” You ask, getting up from your throne.

The three Abyss Lectors gaze at you quizzically. While their faces are covered, you can tell they’re confused about what you’re implying. You sigh, rubbing your temples. You’re not sure if you can pull it off, but it’s worth a try, right? Is kidnapping an Archon risky? You're the Ruler of the Abyss Order, for fucks sake. So you continued where you left off.

“Now, I have yet to meet the Geo, Dendro, Hydro, and Electro Archon, so I can’t make a judgment on how annoying they are. However, I did meet the Anemo Archon and….” You trail off, face pinching up with disgust. “What I'm trying to say is let's kidnap an Archon,” you conclude, clapping your hands.

“The question is, who are we going to be kidnapping, your Highness?” Enjou asks.

Your first answer was to kidnap the dear Anemo Archon of Mondstadt. However, thinking back to your encounter with the said Archon, you sure as hell do not want to deal with him again. The first encounter was already enough for you, and the Bard doesn't seem like he would put up much of a fight. You want a challenge, and an Archon who is “deceased” would be the first step to go. Who would notice an Archon disappearing overnight? An Archon who isn't really dead.

That's how you find yourself standing before the Geo Archon in the ruins of Liyue. You could kidnap Zhongli and bring him to the Abyss, but you knew the Abyss would rapidly deteriorate his sanity, and you didn't want that. Yet. The Geo Archon is tied up against a tree in the Chasm, his mouth taped shut to prevent him from calling for a certain Yaksha. The Geo Archon stares at you emotionlessly.

“The citizens of Liyue aren't the brightest. Assuming their God is dead when he's roaming among them, alive and well,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “We never met, and I deeply apologize for this being our first meeting.”

Is it really your first time meeting Zhongli? Zhongli was there when you, Agnarr, Egill, and Enjou were in Sumeru, watching the city burn to the ground. Though, he did not attack you like how the others have tried to attack you. You weren't sure if the Geo Archon had something up his sleeves, but you can't help but feel satisfied with how easy it was to kidnap the Geo Archon. It's almost too easy for your liking.

Zhongli glares at you as you approach him. You grab the tape from the corner and peel it off Zhongli’s lips so he can speak. It’s not like Zhongli is going to call out the name of the short Yaksha to save him. A Geo Archon like himself doesn’t need a savior. Zhongli can get himself out of this situation without an issue, and you’re surprised to see Zhongli not fighting back. Would Zhongli stand a chance against three Abyss Lectors in the corner, watching his every move?

“I see you're the new Ruler of the Abyss. Such a shame to see someone not of this universe become something that destroys the world they once loved,” Zhongli says nonchalantly.

You smirk at Zhongli bitterly. “Once loved, Zhongli. What's there to love when all I've been receiving is hate and being treated like I wasn't human? Your little Yaksha nearly killed me when I first stepped into Liyue,” you hiss, clenching your fist so tightly that your nails dig into the palm of your hands.

You didn't want to become those cliche villains who talk the victim's ears off— talking about your tragic background and how you became who you are. But here you are, talking the Geo Archon's ears off about how you were treated when you encountered the people who did you wrong. You wanted to meet the characters— the people— you adored, but you were cast aside.

Heck, even the hilichurls and mitachurls treated you better than how the Archons and prominent figures of Teyvat treated you. The citizens of Teyvat treat you no differently. They went along with their day and would glance at you every now and then when you visited the cities. They treated you better than those who had visions. And yet here you are, burning down their homes, crops, and businesses all because of a small handful of people making you feel unwelcomed and unsafe when stepping into their nation.

“I'm going to be generous and not kill you. However, I do want something from you, and it's not your gnosis. Your gnosis is useless to me,” You say, standing before the (former) Geo Archon.

Zhongli stares at you, not saying a word. You sigh with disappointment. You don't know how much longer you can take this. Seeing the Geo Archon before you, tied up and defenseless, is fun, but at the same time, it's pathetic. Then again, you would rather be stuck in the same room as Zhongli than the Bard you met in Mondstadt. You squat before Zhongli and grab him by his hair to make him look at you.

“And what is it do you want?” Zhongli asks through clenched jaws.

Just when you open your mouth to tell him what you want, a polearm pierces you through the chest. You tighten your grip on Zhongli's hair, gasping in pain. You look down to see the blade of Zhongli's vortex vanquisher buried deep in your chest cavity. You release Zhongli and stumble back, hands shaking as you grab the polearm. Zhongli glares down at you, his amber eyes glowing with hate and anger.

“Did you think you would succeed?” Zhongli hisses, digging the polearm deeper into your chest.

You lie on the ground, blood pooling beneath you while Zhongli stands over you. Zhongli notices the Abyss Lectors have yet to attack him. You, their precious Ruler, are impaled, and yet they're doing nothing to help you. You grab the base of Zhongli's polearm, trying to pull the blade out of your chest, only to fail. You struggled for a few minutes before going limp. Eyes glazed over as your lifeless eyes stared into his soul. Zhongli furrows his eyebrows, questioning why it's so easy to kill you and why the Abyss Lectors didn't attack him for impaling and killing you in front of them.

The tense and quiet air in the Chasm is soon broken by the sound of clapping from a distance. Zhongli looks up to see you leaning against the wall with an amused look on your face. You descended the stairs in all your glory— the very same cape flowing behind you. Zhongli narrows his eyes at you and then at your lifeless body on the ground.

“You put on quite the show, Morax. However, you killed the wrong person,” you giggle.

Your lifeless body soon evaporates into a puff of smoke as the Abyss Lectors stand beside you, forming a barrier between you and the Geo Archon.

You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. “It's such a shame to see my clone get slaughtered in front of me,” you mutter, shaking your head with disapproval.

“You....” Zhongli trails off.

You tilt your head to the side, pouting at him mockingly. “I what? Did you think you would successfully kill the Ruler of the Abyss? Oh, please! I wouldn't make it easy for you,” you giggle.

You walk toward Zhongli and caress his face. “You're not in your prime time anymore, Morax. You’ll need to do way more than stab me in the chest to get rid of me,” you whisper. “If you'll excuse me, I have a business to tend to. Agnarr and Egill will be keeping you company while Enjou and I are gone.”

Your clone's blood is splattered on Zhongli's face— not going to lie, Zhongli looks attractive with blood on his face. You let your hand fall to your side, smirk at the Funeral Consultant, and turn around, opening a portal for you and Enjou.

Once you step through the portal with Enjou, the portal closes, leaving Zhongli and the two Abyss Lectors alone. Zhongli clenches his jaws, tightening his grip on his polearm. Zhongli's not going down without a fight, and he will find a way to escape one way or the other. The first thing he needs to do is get rid of the two Abyss Lectors. He could call Xiao for assistance, but Zhongli can handle this on his own.

In the Abyss, you sit on your throne with your legs crossed over the other as you stare at the two Abyss Lectors. You tap your fingers on the armrest, gaze falling upon the kneeling blond before you. Dainsleif is in cuffs, glaring up at you. When you arrived at the Abyss with Enjou, you were informed that the two Hydro and Cryo Abyss Lectors had captured a certain blond. Now, you're unsure of why Dainsleif was popping in and out of the Abyss, but you have an inkling feeling it's to hunt you down.

“Care to explain by the Abyss Lectors found you roaming around the Abyss?” You grumble.

Dainsleif doesn't reply and continues to glare at you. Dainsleif has cuts littering his body, his lip is cut open, and he looks like he was dragged through debris. Nonetheless, you could care less about his condition at the moment. You sit up and rest your elbows on your knees, raising an eyebrow at the blond man. You sit back and close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose and letting out a slow exhale.

Dainsleif stumbles up while struggling in his cuffs, only for the Cryo Abyss Lector to grunt with annoyance, hitting the blond man on the back of his head. Dainsleif grunts in pain and collapses to the ground on his knees. You click your tongue and open your eyes, gazing into Dainsleif's blue eyes. Dainsleif continues not to say anything, glaring at the ground.

“Your Highness, are you hungry?” Enjou whispers.

You shake your head and dismiss Enjou's question. You leave your throne and step toward the kneeling blond man. Enjou reaches forward and grabs you by your wrist. You turn to Enjou, who shakes his head. You give Enjou a reassuring smile— Enjou swallows. Ever since you agreed to become the new Ruler of the Abyss, Enjou and the other Abyss Lectors, Heralds, and Abyssal creatures have yet to see you smile or laugh. You always have this deep frown and glare— you glared so much that it's permanent at this point.

You step toward Enjou. “I'll be fine, Enjou,” you whisper.

Enjou reluctantly releases your wrist, watching you turn and walk to Dainsleif. You stop before Dainsleif, grab him by the chin, and tilt his head up. Dainsleif stares at you. You want to laugh after seeing him in this state. This is your first time seeing Dainsleif in such a state. It's pathetic and comical. Someone persistent with searching for the Abyss twin, traversing through many regions and maybe even universes, just to find them and snap them out of it. And now Dainsleif is here, kneeling before you and looking pathetic.

“Never in my life would I see you in this position, Dainsleif. It's shocking and pathetic,” you say nonchalantly. “Care to tell me why you're here? If you're here to kill me, you're going to have to try harder than that. The Geo Archon tried and failed to do so.”

Dainsleif continues not to speak. You release Dainsleif's chin with an annoyed sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. It seems like Dainsleif is even more stubborn than you thought. You wanted to laugh in Dainsleif's face. Why is he in the Abyss, kneeling before you with handcuffs? You would understand if the Abyss Lectors and Heralds captured him for roaming around the Abyss. However, the lack of response from the blond man is putting you on edge.

Dainsleif lets out a shaky sigh. "I'm here to get you out of the Abyss. You becoming the Ruler of the Abyss Order was a mistake that was never meant to happen," Dainsleif says.

You cross your arms over your chest. Yeah, and your appearance in Teyvat was never meant to happen either, but here you are. You walk to your throne and sit, gesturing for Dainsleif to continue on. If Dainsleif continues to blabber on about something you don't care about, then you're going to call it a day and retreat to your bedroom, and the Abyss Lectors can toss Dainsleif in his prison cell. How could you not join the Abyss Order? Plus, why is Dainsleif suddenly backtracking when your first meeting was the opposite?

You chuckle bitterly and shake your head. "Oh. Dainsleif. You're a bit too late for that. This is where I truly belong— with the Abyss Order as their Ruler. None of this would've happened if none of you treated me that way," you hiss.

You stand abruptly and begin walking off.

Dainsleif stands. "Wait! Don't leave!" Dainsleif hollers.

You turn around and glare at Dainsleif. Your eyes turn pitch black. "Goodbye, Dainsleif. If you, or anyone, continue to get in my way, I will make sure there's nothing left behind on Teyvat."

And with that, you turn around and storm off with Enjou following you. Dainsleif watches you disappear into the darkness, shoulders slumping. Your nails dig into the palm of your hands, drawing blood. How dare Dainsleif march into the Abyss, demanding for you to leave the Abyss Order when he and the others are the reason why you turn to the Abyss Order for help. The Abyss Order is the only group that accepts you and does not hurt you like how the others did. If they want you to leave the Abyss Order so badly, then they can fight you to the death because you refuse to leave. The Abyss Order is where you truly belong.

Note: I feel like this fic falls under the same route as any other SAGAU fics where the rejected creator!reader joins the Abyss Order because they treat the reader better than the Genshin characters. I haven't read fanfics for Genshin in a while, so idk what's trending nowadays for Genshin. Anyway, I am now going to close the voting for Burning Desire voting for Route 3! Thank you for your votes, and we shall wait and see what happens in the third route! I might take a break from writing (like a one-week break), but idk if I'll go through with it 💀 [this part is copied and pasted from my previous fanfic regarding the Discord server] For those who want to join my Discord server, here is the temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]. Please make sure to read the server rules to save yourself from getting in trouble (if you like the server, you can stay, chat, and lurk. If not, you can leave if you don't vibe with it ^^). Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @nightlysunn, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, @asoulsreverie (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

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legendofzoodles · 1 year

Text

Four: Try explaining your fight with Ganon or whatever evil was wrecking your kingdom, but without context.

Wind: Old-ass wizard kicks around some minors while the only other adult is a shapeshifting boat-man who prioritised claiming some triangles. Beat that.

Four: I’m sorry, what?

Wind: That’s how Grandma saw it. But I get it, he did take a few pot shots at me and especially Tetra.

Time: [remembering when Ganondorf, chasing after Zelda on horseback, stopped his pursuit solely to blast a 9 year old in the face and monologue]

Time: Sounds like him.

---

Wild: Appointed knight finally fulfills his mission after waiting 100 years to reload his save.

The Chain: What?

Time: That sucks, I only waited seven.

The Chain: What?!

---

Twilight: Local ranch-hand stops a nightmare induced apocalypse alongside an imp who’s a princess and a hermit, who’s also a princess.

Time: [clears his throat]

Twilight: After screaming at the moon vocal coaching from a ghost stalking the entire journey, who wasn’t a princess.

---

Sky: Local daydreamer wakes up, fights god, and wins.

Wild: I mean...did you though?

Legend: Yeah, jury’s still out on that one.

---

Hyrule: Mute kid brutalises pigman after assembling wish granting triangles, and saves the princess. He does it again years later.

Wild: You were silent back then?

Hyrule: Well, I couldn’t speak because I didn’t know the language. After saving the first Zelda she asked members of the nobility teach me- and how to read and write.

Twilight: Did you bite them when they tried to scold you for getting an answer wrong?

Hyrule: You did that too?!

---

Warriors: Pairs of powerful fighters from across the ages band together to defeat creepy time sorceress, then conquer red-maned wizard.

Legend: Ugh, the power of friendship. Really?

Warriors: Comradery, actually.

Legend: [mimicking his tone] Cringe, actually.

---

Legend: Which one?

Four: Choose your favourite.

Legend: [thinks for a moment] A scarf wearing hooded hobo breaks into my house on several occasions and stages a coup to save two worlds.

Four: What...were you doing?

Legend: [sighing] All the hard work.

~~~

Thanks for reading!

Masterlist

9th place in the LU character design ranking

Character analysis posts:

Hero of the Sky, Hero of Time, Hero of Twilight, Hero of the Wild, Hero of Warriors

Parkour team - LU drabble

How each member of the chain laughs - LU headcanon

I didn't know what to do for Time since I've already made the speedrunning puberty joke and I don't know much about Four's adventures.

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 2 months

Text

Sky High.

(pilot!harry x airhostess!yn)

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here x

in which, your an airhostess for british airways, and harry’s been a pilot for british airways for the last four years, and your both working on the same a380 to the big apple.

word count - 2.8k

"So, which lucky city are you off to today?"

Cabin crew had always been a passion of yours since you were a child.

When you were young, you used to adore gazing at the impeccably dressed flight attendants as they moved gracefully through the aisles of the plane. That longing to be among them, to embody the essence of professionalism and hospitality, never wavered, even as you grew older.

So when you turned eighteen, and were fresh out of college, you signed up for flight attendant school and not once have you looked back.

The course took ten weeks and they were the best of your life, because at the end of it, you gained your wings and was ready to fly.

That was when you met Samia, your bestest friend, the two of you were in the same cabin crew training classes and had practically been inseparable ever since, it was a friendship that was made to last.

You and Samia make your way through the bustling terminal of Manchester Airport, where families were executed to finally have a nice holiday that they had waited all year for and people who were solo-travellers ready to embark on a boring old work trip.

With a grin, you respond, "New York, simply feels like forever since I’ve been there.”

Samia feigns a dramatic sigh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ugh, why do you get all the fun flights? I'm just headed to Dublin."

You chuckle at her mock disappointment. "Hey, Dublin's pretty great too!”

She rolls her eyes playfully. "I guess you're right. But next time, I'm definitely snagging that New York flight!"

You nudge her teasingly. "Deal!

As you and Samia continue your leisurely stroll through the bustling terminal of Manchester Airport, she suddenly stops in her tracks, a perplexed expression crossing her face.

"Wait, did you say you're heading to New York?" she asks, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

You nod in confirmation, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I've got a three-day layover there before heading back. Why? What's up?"

Samia's eyes light up mischievously as she leans in closer. "You know who the pilot is, right?"

You shake your head, curious about her sudden intrigue. "No, who is it?"

With a smug look on her face, Samia leans back, relishing the moment before dropping the bombshell.

"Captain Styles," she says, her voice laced with amusement.

Just like that, your eyes widen.

The dim lights of the party cast a warm glow over the room as chatter and laughter filled the air. You stood at the bar, holding an almost empty drink, observing the festivities around you. It was a celebration for the graduating pilots and cabin crew, and the excitement was palpable.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the noise, and you turned to see a handsome young man approaching you. His brunette hair had a slight curl to it, and he wore an open t-shirt with only the bottom buttons done up, showcasing his tattoos along his chest and right arm. He flashed you a charming smile that set your heart racing.

"Hey," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "M’Harry. Can I get you another drink?"

His flirty demeanor caught you off guard, but you couldn't help but be intrigued by his confidence and his striking appearance.

With a smile, you accepted his offer. "Sure, that would be great. Thanks."

As he ordered the drinks, Harry leaned in closer, his playful banter making your heart flutter. "So, what brings you to this party? Celebrating y’graduation as well?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement at his attention. "Yeah, I just finished my cabin crew training. It's been quite the journey."

Harry nodded, his gaze lingering on you. "Well, congratulations. Y’must be excited to start flying high."

You chuckled at his pun, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his flirtatious remarks. "Thanks. And what about you? Are you one of the graduating pilots?"

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Guilty as charged. But tonight, M’more interested in getting to know you."

As the night wore on, the energy of the party only seemed to intensify, fueled by the pulsating rhythm of the music and the electric chemistry between you and Harry.

With each exchange, the attraction between you grew stronger, igniting a fiery passion that neither of you could ignore.

Before you knew it, the party had come to an end, and Harry suggested continuing the festivities at his place. Eager for more time together, you eagerly agreed, your heart racing with anticipation as you made your way to his doorstep.

As Harry fumbled with his keys, his lips found yours in a heated kiss, igniting a firestorm of desire that burned hotter with each passing second. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating embrace, the hunger for each other driving you forward.

Finally, the door swung open, and Harry pulled you inside, the heat between you reaching a fever pitch. With a sense of urgency, you stumbled into his apartment, the desire to be close to him consuming every fiber of your being.

And as the door closed behind you, the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you entwined in a passionate embrace, lost in a whirlwind of desire and longing.

As you approach your gate, you come to a halt, a wave of anticipation washing over you. Turning to Samia, you give her a final hug, the warmth of her embrace a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

"I'll see you soon," you say, your voice tinged with both longing and determination.

Samia returns the hug with equal fervor, her support unwavering.

"Text me when you land, just so i know that you got there safely." she tells you you, her words a comforting reminder of your shared journey and the strength you draw from each other.

"Take care up there, and don't forget to enjoy New York," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of excitement. “You deserve it.”

During the embrace, your gaze drifts past Samia, and that's when you spot him. Captain Styles, striding confidently towards the gate, his navy blue pilot uniform impeccable, a pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes from the fluorescent airport lights.

The women around him stare in awe, admiration evident in their eyes as they admire his striking looks and commanding presence.

As Captain Styles catches your eye amidst the throng of admirers, a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallow harshly, feeling a sudden rush of nerves at his knowing gaze, his presence commanding attention even in the midst of the bustling airport terminal.

As you bid farewell to Samia and take a step towards the bridge leading to the plane, your heart pounds with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Captain Styles stands nearby, engrossed in conversation with the gate control personnel, his commanding presence unmistakable even from a distance.

As you approach the bridge, you catch Captain Styles' eye, and he immediately breaks off his conversation, his gaze fixed on you as he strides towards you with purpose.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't m’favorite cabin crew member," he says with a playful grin, his tone laced with flirtation.

You can't help but return his smile, the familiar spark between you reigniting with each step closer.

Ever since that night you spent together four years ago, the two of you have sort of started an arrangement, when one of you needs the other your there and vice versa.

But your feelings grew above just meaningless hookups.

His as far as you were concerned didn’t.

"Captain Styles, always a pleasure," you reply, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

He falls into step beside you, his presence magnetic as he matches your stride.

"So, headed to the Big Apple, are we?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You nod, a surge of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of flying to New York with Captain Styles as your pilot.

"Yep, three days of layover in the city that never sleeps," you say, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

Captain Styles chuckles, his charm on full display as he leans in closer, his voice low and intimate.

"Well, if you need a tour guide while you're there, y’know where t’find me," he says with a wink, his flirtatious demeanor sending a thrill down your spine.

You play along, matching his flirtatious energy with a playful smirk of your own.

"I might just take you up on that offer," you tease, the familiarity between you sparking with every word exchanged.

As you reach the entrance to the bridge, Captain Styles stops, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of intensity and longing.

"Until we meet again, m’cloud member," he says, his voice husky with promise.

You meet his gaze, the unspoken understanding between you hanging heavy in the air.

"Until next time," you reply, your heart racing with anticipation as you step onto the bridge and make your way towards the plane.

Standing at the entrance of the plane, you greet passengers with a warm smile as they board, checking their tickets with practiced efficiency.

Beside you stands Suzie, a petite blonde cabin crew member from France, her cheerful demeanor adding to the welcoming atmosphere of the aircraft.

"Bonjour! Welcome aboard," Suzie chirps in her melodious French accent, her eyes sparkling with genuine hospitality as she assists passengers with their carry-on luggage.

You nod in agreement, echoing her sentiments with a friendly greeting of your own.

"Welcome aboard, ladies and gentlemen. If you could please have your tickets ready, we'll get you settled in no time," you say, your voice projecting confidence and professionalism.

As passengers file past, you and Suzie work in tandem, ensuring a smooth and efficient boarding process. You exchange glances and quick smiles as you assist travelers with finding their seats and stowing their belongings in the overhead compartments.

"Next please," you say, gesturing for the next passenger to approach, your attention fully focused on providing top-notch service to everyone boarding the aircraft.

Suzie chimes in, her cheerful demeanor infectious as she assists an elderly couple with finding their seats.

"Right this way, monsieur et madame. Allow me to help you with your bags," she says, her gentle touch earning her grateful smiles from the passengers.

As the last few passengers board the plane, you and Suzie share a brief moment of camaraderie, a silent acknowledgment of a job well done.

As the final passengers settle into their seats and fasten their seatbelts, you and the rest of the cabin crew begin to make your way down the aisle, ensuring that everyone is safely secured for takeoff. With practiced ease, you exchange reassuring smiles and nods with passengers as you pass, checking seatbelts and offering assistance where needed.

Once you confirm that all passengers are securely strapped in, you make your way to the front of the cabin, ready to perform the mandatory safety demonstration. Standing in the aisle, you and the other cabin crew members demonstrate the proper use of seatbelts, oxygen masks, and life vests, your movements fluid and precise as you emphasize the importance of safety during the flight.

As the plane taxis towards the runway, you continue the safety demonstration, pointing out the locations of emergency exits and demonstrating the brace position in case of an emergency landing. Your voice is calm and reassuring, your demeanor projecting confidence and competence to the passengers seated before you.

Three hours into the flight, you find yourself in the crew mess area, diligently preparing warm nuts for the passengers as part of the in-flight service. The gentle hum of the aircraft fills the air, a comforting backdrop to the routine tasks at hand.

Suddenly, the sound of the call button interrupts the steady rhythm, prompting you to glance up from your task.

With a quick exchange of glances with your fellow cabin crew members, you make your way towards the source of the signal, ready to assist the passenger in need.

Approaching the row where the call button was activated, you find a mother and her little girl, the child looking pale and visibly uncomfortable.

Concern washes over you as you inquire, "Is everything okay? How can I assist you?"

The mother looks relieved at your arrival, her voice tinged with urgency. "My daughter isn't feeling well. Do you have a sick bag?"

You nod empathetically, understanding the urgency of the situation.

"Of course, let me grab one for you right away," you assure her, before swiftly making your way back to the crew mess to retrieve a sick bag.

Returning to the passenger's row with the sick bag in hand, you offer it to the mother with a sympathetic smile.

"Here you go. I hope this helps. Is there anything else I can do to assist you and your daughter?"

The mother gratefully accepts the sick bag, her expression conveying a mix of relief and gratitude.

"Thank you so much. This should do the trick. We'll let you know if we need anything else," she says, her voice soft with appreciation.

You nod, reassuring her that you're available should they require any further assistance.

Just under four hours into the flight, you find yourself tasked with delivering the pre-ordered meals to the cockpit crew. Carrying a tray with their dinner selections, you make your way to the front of the aircraft, where the cockpit door awaits.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you knock lightly on the door before pushing it open, revealing the familiar sight of Captain Harry and First Officer Max at the controls.

"Dinner delivery," you announce with a smile, stepping into the cockpit.

Harry looks up from the control panel, his eyes lighting up as he sees you. "Ah, if it isn’t the queen of the clouds herself," he says, his tone playful yet subtly flirtatious.

Suppressing a smile, you approach him with the tray, presenting him with his sushi and a glass of apple juice.

"Here you go, Captain Styles. Enjoy your meal," you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of excitement in your chest.

You bend down in front of the captain, knowing that it will simply drive him crazy, and because we’ll….your a little tease, your skirt isn’t that short, because it’s not aloud to be but it certainly does the trick, because you softly hear him take a small intake of breath which has you trying to surpress your smile.

You then stand back to a normal height and give the first officer his choice of food for the night.

Max looks up from his own console, offering you a polite nod of acknowledgment.

"Thank you," he says, his tone professional as he accepts his lasagna and a glass of milk.

You return his nod with a polite smile, acknowledging his presence before turning your attention back to Harry.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with, Captain?" you inquire, trying to keep the conversation light and professional despite the underlying tension between you.

Harry's gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I don’t think there is no." he replies, his tone teasing yet filled with underlying sincerity.

As you turn to leave the cockpit, you catch Harry's gaze and offer a sheepish smile.

"I should probably go wash my hands," you say, feeling a sudden need to break the tension in the air.

Harry chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Of course, can't have our cabin crew getting their hands dirty," he teases, his tone light yet tinged with a hint of flirtation.

You laugh along with him, grateful for the playful banter that eases the atmosphere.

"Exactly," you reply, eager to retreat from the intimate confines of the cockpit before things become too heated.

You make your way towards the bathroom as you had initially intended. Pushing open the door, you step inside, grateful for the momentary solitude the confined space offers.

Turning on the tap, you let the water flow over your hands, the cool sensation refreshing as you lather them with soap. With practiced efficiency, you scrub your hands clean, ensuring every trace of dirt and germs is washed away.

Once satisfied with the cleanliness of your hands, you rinse off the soap and reach for a paper towel to dry them.

As you pat your hands dry, you take a moment to glance at your reflection in the mirror, adjusting your uniform and smoothing down any stray hairs that may have escaped your notice.

As you are preparing to leave the bathroom, the sound of the door opening behind you catches your attention, causing a slight flutter of nerves to rise in your stomach.

Without turning around, you sense someone entering the small space, their presence filling the air with an unspoken tension.

Gulping nervously, you finally muster the courage to turn and make eye contact with the newcomer.

The sight of the familiar uniform and the commanding aura that surrounds them leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart pounding in your chest.

You swallow heavily.

“Hello, Captain.”

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hunnylagoon · 5 months

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Pt1: Coming Down With Me

Ellie Williams x reader

I once met a girl with skin like kiwi. Even the butterflies were drawn to her, landing on the top of her nose, the dip in her palm. But the kiwi stung my tongue, scarred my lips and made me bleed. I do not care. Cover me in your kiwi kisses, burn my mouth and scar my flesh. Bleach my eyes and dip my heart in lemon juice. Sing your sickly sweet words until my ears bleed.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood best friends until you grew up. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / people are mean lol / best friends to enemies to lovers / roommate! Ellie

Part two here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I know everything about you,

You know everything about me.

I had always been bound to the earth while Ellie danced with the stars in the night sky among delusion and dreams. Though, more so than anything, we were bound to one another.

Our parents were friends, even before we were born. They met at summer camp when they were teenagers, the same camp that Ellie and I were eventually shipped off to every summer. Of course, I have no recollection of when I was an infant, only stories that my parents shared with me; My dad told me that I learned to crawl backwards before I learned to crawl forwards. Joel kept a photo album of his girl.

I can't remember days of crawling around and babbling incoherently, but I can tell you what I remember.

Five years old- Kindergarten

Despite the air being unbearable hot, it was infused with excitement as Ellie and me set foot in the petting zoo. I had never seen so many animals in one place, my little brain was going nuts. Accompanied by the gentle hum of content animals, the aroma of straw, and the distant melody of joyful chatter, the petting zoo rang true to its rustic charm.

Ellie, with her auburn curls bouncing in the breeze, led the way, her eyes widened at the sight of a fluffy alpaca lazily grazing in the sunshine. I giggled as we approached a pen filled with adorable piglets, their tiny snouts sniffing the pure air far away from the dirty stench of the city.

Our parents, watching with affectionate smiles, guided us to the lamb enclosure where soft, woolly creatures nuzzled against tiny palms. Ellie's fingers gently traced the contours of a lamb's ear, and she couldn't resist a delighted squeal as she felt the velvety nose of a goat.

As the afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the scene, the families strolled through the meandering paths, passing by a pond where ducks quacked merrily. Ellie and I, hand in loveable hand, marvelled at the wonders of the animal kingdom, our hearts brimming with the pure joy of discovery and a blooming friendship.

Seven years old- Grade Two

On this particular day, Ellie and I had been messing around in her backyard; that's all we did on the weekends at that age, you couldn't get us to go inside. We spent the morning entwined in daffodils and hyacinth that Joel has so tenderly nurtured, careful not to crush the dainty flowers beneath our wild flailing bodies.

We had the brilliant idea to paint rocks so we had been searching her yard for the perfect flat stones we had in mind. Ellie picked up a rock and immediately threw it back down, jumping away with a shriek.

This had piqued my curiosity (As well as Joels who sat on the back porch, watching us), I went over to where she stood petrified and found nothing more than a little snake staring up at her. I dropped the stones I had been carrying and bent over to get a better look at it, it was brown and had a few white vertical stripes cascading up its thin body.

I slowly moved my hand outwards to touch but was swiftly interrupted by Joel scooping me up "That's enough of that kiddo."

Nine years old- Grade Four

Joel's house garnered an expansive backyard and just past the old fence that Ellie and I had thrown one too many softballs at was a lush forest. I would always clamour up the wood fence and poke my little head over it to try and gather a glimpse of wildlife, Ellie usually had to give me a little boost. "Hold still!" She hissed with her arms wrapped around my torso to help lift me, my scrawny arms shook as I tried to pull myself up even further.

The wood rot of the ancient fence finally set in and with the both of us pressing our mighty weight against it collapsed with the fence. We heard the splitting of wood, I got the worst end of the stick, toppling over and putting my hands out to protect myself. I could've sworn that I heard my wrist break like a crunch.

While I did what felt like a three-sixty frontflip over the fence just for my small head to come down on the end of it with a solid smack, Ellie had just flopped on top of it, green eyes widening in shock when she saw my once straight arm now had an abnormal bump coming out from my wrist. "What's wrong with your hand?"

"I don't know I'm probably dying!" I screamed as loud as my voice could carry, that was the first time I had felt adrenaline run through my veins. "You killed me!"

"No, I didn't!" She retorted, scrambling off the fence and back up to her feet. She was clad in a Jurassic Park T-shirt that she practically was swimming in and those pink and orange plaid Bermuda shorts that any kid in the 2000s owned. "Dad!" Ellie yelled, calling for Joel.

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes and finally, I released the sob that had been building up in my throat. She was almost dumbstruck and just ended up kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She muttered.

10 years old- Grade Five

Ellie had been practicing guitar the entire time I was at her house, Joel had gifted her his old guitar and she was so set on perfecting every cord, every half-hour she would ask for a song recommendation and then flip through the songbook she got to find it.

I was curled up in her bed reading The Hunger Games over again "Els, are you team Peeta or Gale?" I was always at Ellie's house, mine was too busy all the time; I had three siblings, Naomi and Aaron who were twins and two years younger than me and my brother Elijah who was three years older than me. I loved going to her house on Saturdays so I could sleep in and wriggle my way out of going to church. Even though her house was right across the street from mine and my parents would bang on Joel's door, he always covered for me.

"Uh," She was distracted by something in her songbook "Team Katniss?"

I nod in approval to myself as she isn't paying attention "You know who Gale reminds me of?" I ask and without Ellie giving me a response I answer anyway "Luke, I think I kind of like him."

Those are the words that get her to look at me "Ew, he's so weird."

"He's nice to me."

She wrinkles her nose in distaste then shrugs, returning to her guitar which sits awardly in her scrawny frame.

12 years old- Grade Seven

"Fuck!" I yell, kicking the grimy green dumpster in the graffiti-covered ally out of anger, though I kicked it a little too hard now my foot hurts I refuse to admit it "Fuck I hate them!"

Ellie leans against the brick wall on the opposite side of the alley, our bikes discarded on the ground while I hopelessly rant to my friend about my parents. She doesn't say much, just little nods of agreement. My parents had caught me skipping church and they laid into me, saying that I had no respect for them or god and whether that was true or not didn't matter, I was full of pre-teen angst and needed to call my friend to go for a bike ride around town.

"She fucking tore my room apart, I never see them get mad at Aaron or Naomi!" I drag my hands down my face before I look back at the dumpster and kick it again "Ow, cunt!" I'm now hopping on one foot while my knee bends my other leg and I hold my beaten red Converse, covered in doodles, to soothe the pain of my poor toes. It's moments like this that remind me why I love Ellie, because as stupid as I look hobbling around and cussing, she doesn't laugh at me even though I know she wants to.

After a little bit of me aimlessly yelling I finally wind down. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to remember those breathing exercises that we were taught at school assemblies. "Thanks for listening to me talk shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," She shrugs "I've seen you do worse."

This cracks a smile on my face, I turn my head and am met with the Jackson skyline, a beautiful pink sunset on the horizon "Sun's setting," I say.

"Sleepover?" Ellie asks.

"Sleepover," I confirm.

13 years old- Grade Eight

We were thirteen when our parents shoved cash into our hands and dropped us at the mall to go back to school shopping by ourselves for the first time. Every parent's nightmare was a busy mall so when they figured us old enough to venture into the dreaded foodcourt on our own, believed they were taking that opportunity.

Ellie had bought a couple of T-shirts and hoodies here and there, not too particular about what she was buying, though I was very nit-picky over what I wore so I forced Ellie to judge every single outfit that I wore and rate it, she gave the same answer every single time "It looks fine."

"Cool but I don't wanna look fine, I wanna look pretty," I say in frustration, walking back into the dressing room to try on another outfit. Ellie is sitting in the fitting room on a pink velvet couch, arms crossed and waiting for me to finish. "How's this?" I ask, walking out of the changing stall and giving her a little twirl.

"It looks fine- I mean good, everything looks good on you." She sounds almost exasperated. Ellie's hair was still that vibrant auburn colour that my mother was obsessed with, it had yet to fade out into a duller brown with age.

"Really?" I perk up just the slightest.

"Yeah, you look really pretty." She gives me a little nod of confirmation. I know that she's only saying that because she wants to go to the food court and get a cinnamon bun but I believe her anyway.

14 years old- Grade Nine

We were just nearing the end of the second half of our soccer game. It was the tournament and we were only a point away from placing first in the league, the thought of it had kept me up all week I was running off of Subway sandwiches and Gatorade.

Riley (the midfielder) swiftly passed the ball to me before she was surrounded by the other team's defence, I looked up to the clock and there were only seconds left in the match. I let my instincts take over, my parents forcing me into soccer since elementary school was not going to wind up useless. My footwork took me up the right wing just before the penalty box.

I wasn't paying enough attention to notice the tall blonde girl in a slick back ponytail closing in on me. I hear Ellie shout my name and that's all I need to make this last pass, I barely even looked up before power-driving the ball to Ellie who was merely six metres away from me. I slipped onto the muddied field with that kick, watching Ellie waste no time to score our final goal the second her cleat touched the ball.

The clock deadlocks and I drag myself off the ground running towards my best friend, I jump on her almost taking her down with me though she manages to steady herself. "I fucking love you!" I scream hugging her with all of the force I can muster. She hugs me in return, unable to get any words out between her laughs. The team is quick to swarm us, everyone is shouting about our well-deserved victory but not one person is louder than Joel in the stands.

15 years old- Grade Ten

Snow was falling as I stood in the foyer of the high school, still waiting for my date for the winter formal to arrive. Conner had asked me out weeks ago, we hadn't talked much since though I just figured that was because he was shy. I even left school early to get ready and spent hours meticulously pinning every hair into place and adjusting my navy blue satin dress so it would drape across my body in just the right way.

My sister, Naomi was an aspiring makeup artist so I let her dust my eyelids in silver glitter, I forced Warren to drive me. All of that was just for me to get stood up. Conner hadn't texted me all day, I knew he wasn't coming that didn't stop me from forcing denial on myself. "Hey," I heard a soft voice sound behind me, I wasn't surprised to see Ellie. Even though our parents were no longer friends, we were close as ever.

"Hi," My voice was hushed and feeble.

"The dance started an hour ago," She said, that night she had been wearing a white button-up with a pair of jeans and her hair half up. It was clear the dance wasn't as big a deal to her as it was to me. All she had done was ask Riley to go with her and call it a day. Despite her lack of effort, she looks beautiful as ever "I don't think he's coming," She said bluntly.

That's the exact moment I felt myself crack, tears welled up in my eyes and I lurched forward to hug her, flailing my arms helplessly to search for comfort "Then why did he ask me to go with him?" My sobs were drowned out by the sound of Kesha blasting in the overcrowded gym.

"I don't know, but he's an idiot for standing you up," Ellie holds me close and I never want her to let go "I wouldn't have ever done that to you."

16 years old- Grade Eleven

This is where things begin to fall apart. I found Ellie on the back porch of some random guy's house at a party. "I figured I would find you out here," I say, taking a seat next to her on the wooden steps, I hug my knees close to my chest.

"What's up?" Beside me, Ellie is unnervingly calm, she nurses a joint, taking a long hit and letting the smoke turn to clouds.

"Conner kissed me," I say cutting to the chase

I can tell she doesn't like the thought, she hated Conner, ever since he stood me up at the winter formal but she bites her tongue "You guys gonna date?"

"I think so."

"Good for you."

"I don't know if I liked it," My eyebrows are furrowed, and I pull my knees in even further, inhaling the crisp autumn air and the smell of Ellie, she smells like cannabis, firewood and bar soap.

"What do you mean?" Ellie puts out the end of her joint and tucks what remains of it into an empty Altoids container.

"Nothing," I dismiss it, "It doesn't matter, I just wanted to talk to you," Ellie had softened every burden for me since we were girls. "Um, so, my parents are sending me to boarding school next year."

"No, they're not-

"They are."

Ellie doesn't seem so calm anymore, she adjusts her body to face mine and she's so close I swear to god I could've counted every freckle on her face. "Why, what did you do?" The way she looks at me makes me wish that she was a boy.

"Nothing!" I retort "They think I'm straying from god, it's a Christian school." That was my code for 'they think I have a crush on you and I rather not get disowned by my super religious parents!'

"come stay with me and Joel-

"Ellie, please," I place a hand on her thigh "I don't think I can get away from this one."

That was at the end of September, it only got worse from there. I partially wished that I didn't tell Ellie that I had to leave, every time we hung out it just felt like words were hanging between us like birds on a wire and neither of us could say what we wanted. I forced myself to distance myself from her, I didn't know how else to handle my feelings.

She would blow up my phone and come by my house even visit my work but I just told her that I was busy. I could tell that she didn't believe my excuses for a second, she had English with my new boyfriend, Conner and would get him to relay messages and notes to me.

It didn't get easier to ignore her, my family prying about where she had been. I never told my parents that Ellie was gay, though I know they had always had a suspicion and that's why they could never love her all the way completely, the way Joel loved me and looked out for me. My mom and dad liked that I swapped out Ellie for Conner, by February, my dad even started to call him son.

In March Ellie and I had stopped talking completely, she gave up on texting me and coming by my house just for my siblings to lie about my whereabouts. It hurt to see the resentment gleam in her eye every time she passed me in the hallway.

She didn't speak a word to me until the start of the summer bonfire which was custom in our town. If I had known she would be there I never even would have thought about going. I rather not rehash this awful night, not right now just know that it ended with some alcohol, a bit of blood in the sand and me telling Ellie 'I would pick him over you every single time.' Yikes, that's not a good look for me. I spent the rest of my summer burying her in the back of my mind until boarding school finally came upon me and I graduated with friends I didn't like in a place that didn't feel like home.

I was sixteen then now I'm nineteen, no longer a girl but not yet a woman. Those were some key moments of our friendship. I'm not so sure why I felt so mature at the age of sixteen. I had taken a gap year and loved every minute of it, I backpacked in Australia, worked as a camp counsellor in the summer then left to work at a turtle conservatory in Bali, I was making pennies but the experience was worth it.

I arrived at my new home sunkissed with Ellie far in the back of my mind. I didn't know much about who I would be rooming with, I had only spoken to Dina over a Zoom call who was a friendly girl with warm eyes and ink-black hair spilling over her shoulders. I just prayed that none of them were Craigslist killers.

It took me entirely too long to find parking, when I finally did, I grabbed two of my suitcases, unable to hold anything else, the rest of the boxes jammed into my car would have to wait. I read over the text that Dina sent me what seemed to be a million times to make sure I had the right address. It was a small-ish one-story flat with brown walls that had white accents along corners and the doorway with a wood-panelled gable roof. As far as college housing went, I was happy. It looked like something I would've made in the Sims when I was a teenager.

I walk to the front door, the entrance is framed by intricately carved moulding, its details telling a story of craftsmanship and tradition. The wood, polished to a warm, inviting glow, exudes a sense of richness and history. I knocked on the door and heard a voice shouting that she would get it.

The door swings open and I'm met face to face with Dina "Hey!" She smiled "It's nice to meet you, I think you'll like it here," She held the door wide open, motioning for me to go in, and I obliged. "Let me give you a tour." Dina is clad in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt and her hair has been pulled back into a messy ponytail.

The layout of the house seemed somewhat odd to me, there was a corridor straight ahead when you walked in, the first room was the laundry room and contained the washer and dryer with some hampers and shelves of detergent and laundry freshener. "This is the laundry room, we have a wash schedule along with a chore schedule so we will put you on that tonight," Dina told me, I just nodded politely in response feeling a little too awkward and out of place to say anything.

"Alright so this is the kitchen, there's a half bathroom beside it," She says, swinging her arms wide open for exaggeration I can see the chore chart hanging on the walls, it's written in chalk, and it is the laundry schedule. There are little laminated tags with each person's name on them, though I can't quite make out the names from where I am standing. The fridge is covered in postcards, magazine cutouts, polaroids, and bright magnets of papayas and flowers, I automatically assumed this was Dina despite not knowing the other roommates. The kitchen is open with no walls to hide it, the oven and dishwasher are built into counters against the walls as well as the sink which i spotless at the moment, there isn't a dining table but a kitchen island with stools. Past the island you can see the living room, there are two grey couches with decorative pillows and fuzzy throw blankets, a coffee table that looked handcrafted with care and of course a TV.

Have I mentioned there are plants everywhere? Like everywhere. "Okay, so," Dina keeps on moving and I trail behind with my suitcases, over there is my room and Cat's and Abby's," She points to the left of the living room where there is a short hallway with three doors, one on each wall of it. "There's Cat now," She waves at her roommate.

Cat is relatively tall, she has black hair that's tied into a bun, and she's wearing plaid pyjama pants and a black tank top, I can see her abundance of tattoos. She has one sleeve of laurel cascading up her arm and the other is patchwork done right, each separate piece blends almost seamlessly into the next. "I like your tattoos," I say, not wanting to sit in any more silence.

She grins at me "Thanks, love," I nod in response to her, Cat looks down at the suitcases that I'm lugging around "Dina, take this poor girl to her room already."

"I was just getting there," Dina teases and motions for me to follow her "So over here is the bathroom and of course your room, I left your copy of the house key on your mattress," She opens it up. The bedroom is completely blank aside from the boxed bedframe, shelf, vanity and mattress that I had to send over prior. There's a built-in closet in the wall.

I put my suitcases on the ground "I'm gonna grab the rest of my stuff from my car," I offer up a tight-lipped smile.

"Wait a second," She takes my hand and then knocks on the bedroom door parallel to mine. "I'm coming in!" Dina announces pushing the door open, there's a brunette girl hunched over her desk. My breath hitches in my throat when she turns around "This is Ellie."

I can see the panic that momentarily takes over Ellie when she spots me before it's replaced by a false coolness, "Hey," She says before turning back to her laptop and putting her headphones back on. It felt like my heart had shut down, why the fuck did I sign the lease?

"Sorry," Dina shuts Ellie's door "She's not the friendliest of the bunch but she'll warm up to you eventually," Dina walks to the front door with you Abby should be around here somewhere."

I had gotten so frustrated trying to set up my bed frame that I sheepishly left my room and asked for help, god bless Abby. She was putting everything together so easily, I watched her in awe as she finished adding the final screw to my bedframe. "Want help setting up the mattress?"

"Yes, please," I say, I grab one end of the mattress while Abby gets the other, she tells me to lift on three and I listen, she carries the majority of the weight but it still feels like an accomplishment on my part. "So does everyone here go to Northridge?"

"Yeah, except for Cat, she's a tattoo apprentice."

"Cool, cool," I search for words, "What are you majoring in?"

"Kinesiology," It makes sense, I could've called that by looking at the fit gym rat who was now sitting on my bed. "You?"

"Wildlife biology,"

"So you like animals and conservation and stuff?"

"Mhm," I nod "It's honestly kind of hard to not have any animals in my life." I was missing all my pets back home, when I wasn't with them I was working at a conservatory or at a summer camp where I took care of all of the horses, and Ellie's dog, Achilles.

"You'll get used to it, living with Dina is the same thing as living with an animal," She smiles and for the first time, I feel comfortable. Abby watching me with her blue eyes as I begin to unpack my abundance of boxes, I kind of just dump everything onto the ground because I can't remember which box has what, the first thing I search for are my coat hangers. I dump out a box with a bible, wall cross, and rosery and golden cross necklace from a box of random knickknacks. "You religious?"

"Kind of?" I question it myself "Not really, it's just my family, I packed that stuff to make my mom happy."

Abby nods "I get it."

"You do?"

She backtracks "No, but I can try to."

I shake my head, "I wouldn't try if I were you, I spent nineteen years trying to get away from it." I was sure other Christian homes were healthy but mine wasn't one of them, the way my parents obsessed over Jesus was honestly frightening.

"Hey, do you wanna come watch a movie when your done unpacking?" Abby asked, "Get to know your new roommates a little better."

I don't entirely want to, I wasn't ready to talk to Ellie. I still hadn't wrapped my head around the fact that I was living with her and that she was pretending she didn't know me, despite this, my words betrayed me "For sure."

I sat on one of the couches beside Abby, I made myself as small as I could, thinking that maybe I could make myself disappear. Cat and Ellie crammed themselves on the other while Dina took the plush armchair. I felt so out of place everyone here had relationships, I had one with Ellie before I severed it 'Grown Ups' was playing on the flatscreen though it seemed I was the only one paying attention.

The four girls all laughed and talked their way through the movie, Abby, Cat, and Dina would ask me a question here and there but I didn't know them well enough to pitch in. I kept telling myself that I needed to push through, if Spiderman could do it, so could I.

I didn't even finish the movie, halfway through I excused myself saying I was tired which wasn't necessarily a lie. It was difficult to fathom how well Ellie was playing it off, acting like she never met me. I walk into the bathroom, clean towel in hand, ready to scrub off the stress of today. Beside the mirror, I see a cardstock poster decorated with bright markers and doodles.

HOUSE RULES

#1 No underwear left in the bathroom

#2 Wash your dishes

#3 Break it? Tell Abby

#4 No smoking inside

#5 Privates are private!

#6 Pls don't drink and drive (We have a couch)

#7 Give your beloved roommates a heads up before having someone over

#8 This is a residence of women so the seat goes down!!!

#9 Respect the bedrooms

#10 Having sex? Keep it quiet

#11 NO DRAMA!!!!!!!!

#12 Follow chore and wash chart

#13 Don't eat what's not yours! (Without asking)

I finish reading the last bit and mutter to myself "Wasn't planning on it." I run the water so hot that it feels cold and I'm quick to not use all of the hot water and have my roommates hate me on my first night here. Everyone has their little drawers in the bathroom, mine is empty aside from some floss and cotton pads that the girl before me left behind. I make a mental note to make use of my bathroom drawer tomorrow and fill it with makeup remover or conditioner, or something like that.

Brushing my teeth and wrapping myself in a strawberry towel that I had purchased at a craft fair, I open the bathroom door, I can see the light of the TV and the sound of chatter from the living room. However, I ignore it and make a B-line to my bedroom. Even though I had spent hours unpacking and pinning up posters it still didn't seem homey.

I slip into shorts and a t-shirt, leaving my hair as is and throw myself onto my bed. My towel is discarded onto my bathroom floor. When I turn on my phone I am bombarded my messages from my parents, my mother has probably sent me twelve Google pins to the closest churches, I answer her with a thumb-up emoji and settle into my bed to scroll through social media and see how much fun all of my friends are having.

Fucking Ellie. She's plaguing my thoughts, I think of what I said to her and it makes me cringe, I want to smother myself with my satin pillow. I don't even have food to eat, grocery shopping wasn't something that I put on my priority list and right about now I was but Ellie, god, why was I such a dick? Because I didn't know what else to do- whatever, I was a scared teenager. What would you have done? Probably kiss her you lesbo.

Lord, it makes me sick to think about what could've been.

15 years old- Grade Ten

Ellie and I were sitting at a fire pit at her uncle Tommy's lake house. It was a Fourth of July party except we were the only teenagers there; everyone else was friends of Tommy and Maria or some distant relatives of Ellie's or children of said people.

After five years of practicing day and night, Ellie had just about mastered the acoustic guitar, she played and I sang, wrapped up in her flannel, I was tucked close next to her.

She struck every cord perfectly and I began to sing absentmindedly, the song that had been carved into my brain. Ellie looked so insanely beautiful illuminated only by fire and the stars that hung in the sky, if it hadn't been a sin I would've kissed her.

Talking to her felt as holy as praying to god but I knew it was as sinful as worshipping the devil.

If it was so wrong why was I born in God's image?

Her gentle hand strummed on the chords of the guitar, the same calloused hand that had once turned water into wine. Her laughter was the sound of a church choir

I wish I told her how much I liked her but what would've happened if I did? What would my parents think, they would kill me.

Part of me didn't care how my parents would react, if I spoke up, I could say goodbye to my inheritance and having college paid for. Maybe that was an unfair assumption to make on my part. Ugh. FUCK, I don't know, let's get to the next part of the story.

I couldn't sleep that night, I thought maybe a glass of water would soothe me, well I didn't really think that but I was hungry and thirsty and water was the only thing in that house I had the right to ingest. I figured that I could fill myself with water and zip to Denny's in the morning then grab some groceries.

Poking my head out of my door, I checked to see if anyone was still awake before gingerly taking hushed steps towards the kitchen, I was trying to be as light as Thumbelina. I hadn't noticed Ellie bumming on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"You cooking all of that non-existent food you brought?" She jeered. Oh, now she wanted to talk to me.

"I was gonna have some warm water soup for dinner and chew on pistachio shells from the cup holder in my car for dessert," I answer "I'm treating myself tonight." She didn't think it was funny at all, a few years ago she would've been cackling at my subpar joke, but now she just seemed unamused. "Sheesh, tough crowd."

She stays silent.

"You used to think I was funny," I say.

"I also used to think the tooth fairy was real."

"Harsh," I mutter. Turning the tap on and sticking a finger underneath it to test the temperature. I put my hummingbird mug underneath it and let it fill. "Hey, Ellie," She doesn't answer "Have you told them any bad things about me?"

She nearly scoffs "No, believe it or not, I don't talk about you, I don't even think about you," There's venom in her voice "You haven't crossed my mind since you walked through that door."

"Why are you pretending you don't know me-

"Because I don't fucking like you," She says it like it's so obvious and it honestly is in this moment "Just because you're pretty and you act like a sweet little Christain girl, that doesn't mean shit."

"I'm not trying to act like anything-

"Yeah, well it seems pretty insincere to me," Ellie seethed and I could feel a sting in my heart, I would do some pretty horrendous things for a time machine right about now. I can tell that there won't be any salvaging for this, she hates me to death and rightfully so.

This is where I give up "Okay, sorry," I grab my hummingbird mug and retreat to my room.

I endured four months of that.

Ellie was pushed to the back of my mind while I ran through classes and got a job as a waitress at a stake house. I did everything in my power to keep myself busy, to keep her out of my head but she was always there, she hung around like a song I can't shake, like I'm haunted by the melody.

Some nights when the city decides to quiet down I can hear her play guitar, and I'll quietly hum along to it. Songs she used to sing for me, she now sings for another woman, another soul. I knew that she had girls over, but I never got to meet them as Ellie did everything in her power to pretend I didn't exist.

The only communication I got with her was in the roommate's group chat, and it was always brief.

Ellie: Having a friend over tomorrow night

D-manz: Friend? With benefits??????????

Kit-Cat: Nah they're hardly even friends, just benefits

Abs: Don't get her pregnant

Me: 👍

As long as I was with the girls, Ellie was not. She avoided me like the plague, it was like she despised my existence. If we go clubbing, she takes a separate taxi, petty if you ask me. The girls knew something happened between us but they couldn't pinpoint what it was. It was Dina's conspiracy that Ellie used to date one of my friends and broke her heart. While I bonded with Cat, Dina, and Abby, Ellie would pretend to like me. She would occasionally laugh at my jokes or ask how my shift was when Dina was in the room.

Trust me when I say I would rather forget than dwell on it but it was impossible. I know that I'm nothing more than an obstacle to her, a stain on her bedsheets, a sore in her mouth, but she was still my diamond in the rough. I will willingly ignore all of her cutthroat words and her jagged edges.

Because I know everything about us.

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jksian · 5 months

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When the end comes (teaser) | JJK

You loved him with all your heart, held onto the person you knew will never be yours; but, the only regret you had was, you weren't able to tell him about those feelings.

Pairing: best friends brother JK x reader

Genre: super ANGSTY, fwb, smut, unrequited love, grief au.

W/c: 800 (for teaser)

Rating: 18+

Warning: major character death, one sided love from oc' s side, tattoo artist Jk, multiple sex scenes, age gape (more will be included in the story)

A/n: so..... I thought about writing some emotional heart breaking stuff so you should know it's gonna be SAD, like real sad! Full of angst! And if you're into this kinda thing, let me know if you want to be tagged.

Thanksgiving came and it was time for celebration. It was the time for eating delicious food, show our gratitude to the universe and spending time with our loved ones.

But, you weren’t particularly enjoying.

Every year, the Jeon’s and your family celebrated most of the occasions together, due to your father and Mr. Jeon being friends apart from your friendship with their daughter. But , this year, one more family joined in. You didn’t mind if it was just another random someone, but it wasn’t someone random.

The food was excellent as always. Mrs. Jeon had always been a great cook. All the food was mouth-watering but still, you found your self concentrating more on the scene unfolding in front of you rather than your food.

Jungkook invited his girlfriend to his house on Thanksgiving. That was the first time you saw the girl, your crush was in love with.

She was beautiful would be an understatement. Long, silky hair which was dyed brown, tall with a sweet personality. Anyone could have said on the first glance at them that, they were made for each other. There were many similarities between them too, like both were studying at the same college, Jungkook being art major and she was in the literature department, both belonged to the same city but never met each other before and the most importantly, both were at the same age.

Where you were four years younger than him, basically same age as his sister.

He probably think of you as his sister. No. Definitely he did.

You were burning with rage when you saw them holding hands. Even though everyone was around them, they didn’t seem to care much. It also seemed like Jungkook’s family liked her so much. They were happy that their son have met someone who made him happy. Both their families were happy about their relationship.

When it was evening, everyone was chattering and laughing inside the house but you were on the balcony, standing alone. You couldn’t help but cry. It was too much for you. You’d been crying for days now, but now that you’ve seen his girlfriend, there was no denying that it was real. Their relationship was real and you didn’t had a chance anymore.

“Moon is watching the moon?” You didn’t noticed when Jungkook came here. You abruptly wiped your tears away from your cheeks. He came closer to you and stand beside you, you took a step away, tried harder to hide your face from him.

When he noticed you hadn’t answered his question, he continued “I picked the right name for you, didn’t I?” he asked again, tried to humor you but you were nowhere near to laugh or even smile at his jokes.

You were standing there silently, not staring at the sky anymore. You lowered your gaze and your head fall downwards, shoulders slumped. He must had sensed that something was wrong with you, that’s why he asked “Hey, are you okay–,”

Before he can finish his sentence, an ugly sob slipped past your mouth, unable to held it back anymore. This time he didn’t held back, he placed his hand on your shoulder and made you look at him. You were insistent on not to face him so he settled with just holding you by your shoulder.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks without any resistance but his hands felt comforting even though he was the one hurting you at that time.

“What happened? Does someone hurt you?” you could sense the concern in his voice, his voice was so soft like he was afraid of hurting you. That made you cry even harder.

“____, please tell me what happened?” This time he was rubbing your arms ups and down, a gesture of comfort. He patiently stood there until calmed down and was ready to talk.

When he saw you finally wiping your tears away, he took a loose strand of your hair a tuck it behind your ear. That little affection felt like someone poke a needle into your heart.

“I like someone.”

You whisper to him , tried your hardest to not burst out crying again. You saw his expression turned into confusion, so you continued “But, He doesn’t like me.”

Again, your eyes were filling with tears. The image of them together encrusted into your mind will always hunt your down for sure.

Jungkook seemed to contemplate on how to respond to you. Then, he asked “How could you know that he doesn’t likes you?”

“Because, he has a girlfriend.”

Jungkook was taken aback by your statement. He looked at you with sympathy in his eyes, like he was sad about the situation you were in.

“I- are you sure? Also, do I know them by any chance?”

You avoided his gaze but nodded to his question. You were afraid that he might know about your secret crush on him. What if, he hates you after knowing that he was the person you likes?

No no, you couldn’t let that happen.

“how old is he?”

“Same age as yours. And, I’m sure that he has a girlfriend. I’ve seen them together the other day. You- you might know him but I don’t know…” You shifted on your feet, fidgeted under his curious gaze. He was staring at you, you felt that even though you were looking at the other direction.

“May I know his nam– ,”

“No.” Before he could ask the question, you dismissed immediately. There’s no way in hell you were gonna tell him that.

After seeing your defensive state, he didn’t push that question onto you anymore.

“Okay. You know, you’re a beautiful girl, right? You’ll find someone better than him in the future who will love you.” His smile was surreal, he was looking at you like you were the only one existed in the world, Eyes so gentle.

He was such a kind person, always helping who was in need, from offering jacket to a random person at a cold night to rescuing you from getting embarrassed in front of thousands of people on your first day of period. Even if you tried to assume that he was being caring only to you, that you’re special to him, you knew it wasn’t true.

You were just a random girl who was happened to be his sister’s friend.

He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to you. Your tears were as stubborn as you were, “If he is my age then, that means he is older than you –,” the realization hit him.

“–___, he didn’t do anything to you, right?” his worrisome expression made you think that why does that matter? His brows were pinched as he searched for your eyes.

“N-no, why are you asking that?”

“You should be careful from people, especially older guys. I’m not saying all the older guys are bad, but you haven’t see much of the world yet, so it might be difficult for you to identify who is good. You also haven’t matured enough–,”

“What do you mean by that!?” you got offended by the those words. Matureness doesn’t comes from age, also why was he acting like a seventy years old grandpa?

He got off guard from the sudden change in your tone. Shifted on his feet, he tried to make you understand his prospective, “I mean, many guys in our college targets younger girls like you to take advantage of, and… I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“W-why?” you wiped your nose with his handkerchief as you asked.

“Who wants something bad happens to the people they care about?” his smile was so genuine, the way he looked at you back then, made you feel things you’d never felt for anyone else.

That night you realized that, maybe, your silly little crush on him wasn’t just a crush. It was more than that. Something that might ruin you in the end but, still let that thing to engulfed you completely.

That night, you found comfort in the person who was the reason behind your heart break.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts x reader #bts angst #jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic

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jazzsonly · 8 months

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౨ৎ blurb. ౨ৎ

ʜᴜɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ᴜ

pairing(s): amber freeman x g!p!reader

warning(s): no pronouns used. smut. blowjob. making out. recording. mentions of onlyfans. use of shaft and length. not too detailed or long bc it’s a blurb. (deal with it.) probably the worst thing you’ve ever read tbh.

summary: ❝ shut your mouth, i’m recording. ❞

inspired by.

────────✬────────

amber was touchy, it’s just who she was…especially with you. anyone who was with you in a room for more than a minute could pick up on this. the way she always jumped on you in excitement, her legs wrapped around your waist and her arms around your neck, while your hands rested under her thighs.

or the way she sat on your lap when you’re in the quad with core four. when she insisted on plucking your eyebrows, straddling you as you sat on the couch, legs settled on either side of you.

it was just normal for you two, and normal for anyone else around. as normal as it was, it was hard for you (no pun intended) to stay contained because amber was a pretty girl, a very pretty girl and you sometimes found it difficult to stay contained with her on your lap. it wasn’t just the fact that she was on your lap but that she was on your lap in the shortest mini skirt or the shortest biker shorts.

and she could never sit still, always making it a point to move her hips, rocking back and forth on you. claiming she were ‘trying to get comfortable.’ you just prayed to whatever in the sky that she couldn’t feel your hard-on when she was on your lap.

“you know…i’ve been thinking about doing onlyfans,” your eyes widen at amber’s statement.

it had been a lonely saturday, just you and amber at the apartment while the others went out for laser tag. you had been pretty worn at from work the day before so you decided to stay in and watch movies, amber claiming to be worn out too and offering to join you.

you were both on the couch, you arms stretched out and rested, legs opened in a manspread position. all while amber’s head rested in your lap.

“why would you need to do onlyfans?”

“ehh, just some extra cash. plus, our rent might go up.”

you clear your throat, swatting away the thoughts of the things amber would do for onlyfans. “why not just pick up extra shifts?”

“it’ll be no good, they cut my hours anyway cause the new hire.”

“well, whatever you’re comfortable with…i’ll support.”

the girl smirks, “you’ll support?”

“n—not like that, i meant—like i won’t judge you or be weird about.”

“so,” she pauses to sit up, looking at you more clearly. “you wouldn’t tune in?”

“wouldn’t that be weird?”

“no weirder than how you get hard every time i sit on your lap.”

your eyes widen and a nervous cough leaked out, “amber i—“

“relax,” she moves her position again, straddling your lap. “i like it. i like you.”

“you like me?”

“uh huh, and i want to make my first video with you.”

there were invisible question marks over your head. was this really happening?

“yo—you do?” amber smirks, she loved the affect she had on you. you were so nervous and lost in this moment. it turned her on.

she leans forward, her hand in the middle of your chest to steady herself, “i want you inside of my mouth.”

“amber, are you—i mean, i don’t want to mess up our friendship…plus, i’ve never done this before.”

“i’ll guide you…so, are you in or what?”

your bottom lip stuck between your teeth and your chewed on it in nervousness, of course you wanted to do it but what the fuck?

“you won’t even have to show your face, the camera will only come to your waist and i’ll be on my knees.”

you exhaled deeply, looking up at the girl, “ok.”

“yay!” she kisses your cheek in excitement before jumping up, she ran to her room to get the tripod and her phone.

your leg bounces rapidly, while she sets up the equipment near the coffee table.

“relax,” she hand comes down on your thigh to stop it from shaking. “you wanna kiss me first? help it be less nerve wrecking for you?”

you hesitantly nod, licking your lips.

the freeman places her other hand on your other thigh, steadying herself as she leans forward, running her tongue across your bottom lip. she can’t help but smirk at the hitch of breath you let out at her actions, she pushes forward, her lips pressing against yours and locking with them.

her seductive aura took over you, intoxicating you. as you start to relax, you get more comfortable and let you tongue run against her lips this time and she immediately opens her mouth, pressing her tongue against yours, letting you taste her.

her minty strawberry breath was now mixed with yours. her tongue rolls against yours, fighting a fight that she already won. and to dismay she pulls away, slowly.

her eyes study your face, your eyes still closed, lips still puckered and you lean forward into her, wanting more.

“mhm, ok stand up so i can line the camera up with your waist.”

easily, you comply to her demand, moving around the coffee table, you stand next to the tripod that held her phone and she slid down to her knees in front of you adjust the camera’s view.

you couldn’t help but look away in embarrassment, knowing your hard-on was showing through your sweatpants—the same sweatpants amber leans up and kisses the hem of.

“amber are you su—“

“shh, i’m recording.”

you tongue flys to the roof of your mouth, cutting your words off.

“look at me.” she softly demands and reluctantly you let your eyes meet her dark doe ones, that gracefully put you in a trance of obedience.

her nails run against your smooth waist before she hooks her fingers in the hem of your sweats and let them drop down to your ankle, her eyes going back and forth, from your eyes to very noticeable print that now showed through your plaid fruit of the loom boxers.

a content smile takes over as she runs her fingers across the seven and a half inches, feeling the slight veins.

if it wasn’t clear to her, it was clear to you that your body was on fire with a desire that grew more and more with each slight movement of your roommates.

taking you by surprise, the girl swiftly hooks her fingers into your boxers this time, letting them also drop your ankles, you length stood tall, whipping out, hitting her in the cheek softly.

“so big,” she utters straight into your eyes and somehow, if even possible you grew even more aroused.

you push your tongue slightly between your teeth and bite down softly when she grabs your base firmly, wasting no time to lick the tip. her salvia wet and moist on you, bringing you soft sensations.

she bobs her head down, only taking the tip into her mouth which caused you to lowly groan.

you had a few girlfriends in the past and though you didn’t go all the way, you’d gotten head before but not like this, not like amber. her movements were so precise, your pleasure was her’s and she wanted to make sure it was just right.

with a pop, she let you fall from her mouth, taking the left over spit and using it as lube to move her hand up and down your shaft, she had a tight grip and she twists when she comes to the base, going up and down with the same movements.

“fuck, amber.”

“mhm, feels good? tell me how good it feels, y/n.”

subconsciously, without any embarrassment you let out the pleasure. “it feels so good, amb. so good.”

she hums in satisfaction, taking you into her o shaped mouth once more, this time going deeper then just the tip. she bops her head up and down, eyes still locked on your half closed ones.

once again, amber studied you. the way you fell apart in her hands (and mouth), the way your head slightly threw back, and low curses feel from your mouth followed with an occasional ‘amb.’

she’d been wanting this moment for a long time and she finally got it.

making it a point to pleasure you, to send you over the edge, amber sucks air in through her nose and prepares to take all of you into her mouth, deepthroating you.

“oh fuck!” music to amber’s ears.

“amb, i’m so close! don’t stop!” without even knowing it, your fingers lace in the girls hair and grip tightly as you move her head just the way you want.

her eyes watery and her breath shortened, she let you do whatever you wanted.

once you feel that familiar pit in your stomach, you tug her hair and release yourself from her mouth, letting your cum squirt on her face without warning, but of course the freeman didn’t mind.

━━━ 👩🏽‍💻 a gift for all my beautiful, sexy, silly babygirls.

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adventuringblind · 9 months

Text

Mr. Blue Sky

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: Fluff

Request: Yes, I loved every second of this. Y'all are welcome to send me your own ideas :)

Summary: After Max gets cheated on, he can't stand being in the house where it happened. Reader and Charles take him in and show him he's still loved.

Warnings: cheating

Notes: No hate to Kelly. I just needed this as a plot point.

Fun fact: my mom calls Valentine’s Day ‘legislative love day’ and will only do any remotely related activities on the 15th because she has a point to prove.

Masterlist

The sound of Charles' phone buzzing at an ungodly hour is what you woke up to. The room is still pitch black, and you can hardly make out Charles in the bed.

He rolls over and pucks up the phone. "It's Max." He states. Voice filled with the sleep from which he was dragged.

He answers the phone, and you curl up into him, hoping to listen in. "Max? Are you-"

You can hear faint mumbling and the occasional choked sob on the other end of the line. "Breathe, Max. I'm going to come get you. Can you stay on the phone with me?" Charles is throwing off the covers and looking for his car keys.

You look at Charles for some sort of answer. To which Charles pulls the phone away from his ear and kisses your head. "Kelly cheated. I'm going to go get him."

You nod your head in understanding. You clamber out of bed and see Charles off to the door.

Your grateful that Monte Carlo is a small city and that it doesn’t take long for him to come back. His body shouldering a drunk Max through the door.

Max is no coherent and reeks of alcohol. His eyes are puffy and his cheeks tear stained. His lips tremble as them mutter words neither of you can understand.

Your heart hearts for him. You and Charles had made an effort to be around the Dutch. You both actively became friends with him and found yourselves in each others company often.

And did you both end up falling for the same pair of blue eyes? Yes.

It was actually Charles who brought it up first. You’d never considered the idea of being with more then one person. Then you got to know Max and you found yourself considering more often then you’d admit.

Neither of you knew if Max would ever be into that and neither of you wanted to ask. The possibility of ruining what is currently a good friendship was not on the to-do list. Plus, he had Kelly and P.

You shake of your thoughts and help Charles get Max into the guest bed. You and him do your best at cleaning him up and making him comfortable despite the fact he is less then cooperative.

When you two are finally back in your own bed, Charles sighs in pained defeat. “She cheated on him while he was out with P.”

You cringe in disgust. “Has it been going on long?”

“Apparently so. About four months.” Charles climbs further into the blankets and pulls you into his chest. “He gave her the apartment. He was out late because he didn’t know where to go.”

“We could offer him a place here for the time being.” You suggest. The slightest hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

“Pretty sure you are just wanting to see more of him.” He chuckles. “But yes, I think it’s a good offer until he figures things out.”

“Don’t lie, you stare at him all the time! You’re going to be the one who outs us.”

“Shush amour. I’m exhausted and I know you are also. Now sleep.”

The week brings interesting events. Max does take the offer to move in, though he’s been quiet and reserved since he started staying with you. Max, Charles, and Lando went back to, now Kelly’s apartment, to get his stuff.

He comes back into the house crying. His heart shattered and the apartment a mere reminder of the events that occurred.

Your grateful it’s the off season and Max will hopefully have some time to process before the start of the new season. You and Charles don’t push him and give him space when he needs. Though you also invade when you can see he’s spiraling. Desperate attempts at not letting him go into those dark places are often just you being in the same room as him.

By the time Christmas rolls around, he’s doing the slightest bit better. He’s been out of the room more and you haven’t had to force him to eat. He decorates the apartment with you and Charles.

It’s disastrous.

The three of you can’t stop laughing at the mess you’ve made of the decor.

The three of you spend Christmas Eve with Charles’ family. Max hadn’t wanted to go home to his less then festive father and Victoria was away with her in-laws.

You obviously weren’t going to leave him alone and Pascale had been thrilled when he said he’d come to dinner.

You could tell he felt awkward and out of place at first, but everyone did their best to make him feel welcome. Soon he was relaxing, sipping on his drink and engaging in conversation.

Christmas and new years had gone by to fast. January had now descended and the cold weather had yet to completely let up.

Originally you thought Max would be out by now. That he’d want his own space as soon as possible. It’s not like he couldn’t afford it. Yet he stayed and you and Charles welcomed him in.

Max was seemed like he was healing. His eyes had regained their light. The one they lost those first days of December. He definitely hadn’t moved one though. You and Charles could still hear the soft sniffles from his room at night.

He may be smiling, but he’s still broken hearted.

The most interesting new additions are the cats. The felines that are Max’s children. He would probably murder for his cats and become the next John Wick. There is something wholesome and sweet about his interactions with his pets.

Charles on the other hand has a bad relationship with animals in general. Small felines included. He like them, they just don’t like him back yet. Max has been letting him feed them until they realize he is nice.

You also have learned that you can share meal prep with Max. You’d banned Charles from it after he tried once and failed miserably. Max isn’t the best in the kitchen, but he helps out and cooks some nights.

February. The month of love.

Everything around reminds Max of what happened. How he will not be doing anything special for the holiday. He doesn’t even want to go out of the apartment and you and Charles have to drag him to go get fresh air.

The fateful day comes around and you and Charles have agreed to keep it small.

Corny, sweet, and romantic is Charles definition of a good day and treats you accordingly.

You try to get Max to come eat something but end up just leaving it at the door.

Despite what people may think, Max is romantic at heart. Charles learned this last year when the Monegasque asked him if he was doing anything with Kelly for the holiday.

You and Charles are lounging on the sofa with a movie playing in the background. His arm draped around you and mouth pressing silly kisses along your jaw.

“I can feel your worry radiating from here.” Charles stops his kisses and you roll your eyes at him in response.

“He’s not eaten all day and I’ve heard him crying. Just wish I could help is all.”

Charles hums in your ear. “We could see if he wants a distraction.” He punctuates his sentence with a cheeky smile.

“Charles Perceval Leclerc! You can not seriously be suggesting what I think you are.” You playfully bat his arm. “I highly doubt he would neither want that or like that.”

“How about we ask and then go from there.”

“I think you just want him to fuck you.” This time it’s your turn to give a cheeky smile.

This is definitely not how you envisioned asking Max about this would go. His teary eyes haven’t looked away from Charles since the pretty male started talking.

This left you in an odd place of trying to read his reactions and getting absolutely nothing.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to or if you’re not into it. We would completely understand.” Charles laughs but you can tell he’s nervous. His body language betrays him.

Max looks between the two of you like he’s considering something. “You’re telling me you’ve both been crushing on me since last year? And I didn’t notice?”

“You’re very oblivious at times.” You shrug.

“That’s fair but also not the point.” Max stands up out of the bed and starts pacing. “I just don’t understand why me. You two are amazing people and you’re so great together.”

“Y/N has a numbered list of reasons in her phone that we’ve created in case this ever happened.” Charles looks at you expectantly but Your already pulling up the list.

“-please don’t read it I’m already blushing and that will make it worse. Maybe one day but not now.”

All of you freeze at the fact he insinuated a future.

“Does this mean you like us back?” Charles almost purrs. He’s so flirty now but if this goes farther then just a confession tonight he’ll be stuttering and weak in the knees. You know from experience.

Max is the stuttering mess right now however. He’s lost all of his words and is simply gesturing with his hands.

“Breathe Maxy, take your time.” He manages a few and usable to get a grip on his thoughts.

“I’ve to confess something first.” You both look at him expectedly but don’t push him. “The reason Kelly cheated on me is because she’d found a journal of mine. It was a thing my therapist told me to do and so I did. When you two started coming around more, I fell hard. For both of you. I wrote about to hopefully understand myself better and get the thoughts out of my head but they stayed and I hated myself for it. She read it and thought I cheated first so she just did it back.”

He’s in the verge of tears again but you and Charles can only stare I’d utter disbelief. Apparently, both of you are also oblivious.

“Please say something.”

“I think it must be fate.” Again that smirk is tugging at Charles lips.

The air in the room is replaced by a new tension. The kind Charles was originally insinuating before you three started talking.

“So about that proposal then…”

Valentine’s Day definitely couldn’t have ended any better.

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joshfutturman · 2 months

Text

'they'd find us in a week, ( lay here for years or for hours )'

oneshot - mike struggles to let you get close, but when your hands brush against his hair, he realises that he may not be able to keep you at arms length forever (1.7k words) pairing - mike schmidt (five nights at freddy's) & gn!reader tags - ok basically this whole thing was 'mike gets sleepy when you play with his hair because my headcanon is that his mom used to do it when he was younger', pre-established friendship verging on relationship, lingering feelings, pure fluff

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you knew mike wasn’t really the super affectionate type, or at least. . . not with you, yet. each week you’d come over, he’d inch a little closer towards you on the sofa. every time, you felt your heart rate pick up. he felt so close yet so far.

this night, he was the closest he’d ever been. your eyes drift over to the armchair where he used to sit himself when you first visited, and then to him, inches from you now on the sofa. you often treated the situation like mike was an animal, your hand outstretched waiting patiently for him to sniff, get used to your scent maybe. one wrong move and he’d scamper away. you operated on his time, at his pace.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

his leg touches yours and you feel your face heat up at the innocent touch. you dare not glance towards him, relax, you think to yourself. mike probably thought nothing of it. but when you do glance despite your best efforts, you notice the red on his cheeks too.

you try to suppress a smile.

the room was lit with only small flickers from the television in his living room, some mindless action film playing. it was his suggestion, and you let him, loving the way his face lit up when he tried to explain the plot to you in a sheepish manner. his dad used to watch it with him, he said. it felt special that he wanted to share this with you, even if it wasn’t the best movie in the world, it would turn out to be one of your favourites anyway.

you try to focus, settling back into the sofa as you rest your elbow back onto the base of the sofa behind you, supporting your head as your cheek rests against your palm. your eyes drift to mike, watching him as he eyes the television with deep interest. he’s got that sleepy look he usually has and your eyes begin to study his face a little closer now that you’ve got the opportunity.

the dark bags under his eyes hadn’t gotten any better, in fact, they looked a little worse. but that leads you onto his freckles, one. . . two. . . three. . . four. . . more than you could count, dotted across his nose and cheeks. they were your favourite of his features, little constellations you wanted to connect, his face infinitely more interesting than any of the old stars in the night sky.

his stubble was growing a little long, longer than you’d seen it before - maybe tomorrow was his usual shaving day. you wouldn’t tell him, but you thought he suited it at this length. a part of you wonders what it would feel like against your own cheek, but you quickly swat that thought from your mind.

but god, his eyelashes. they were long, dark and delicate. with each blink, you wonder if mike knew how truly beautiful he actually was. he was handsome sure, but he was also incredibly beautiful. not just in looks either, he was beautiful in the way that he’d save you an extra donut - your favourite kind, he’d swerve in the road to avoid birds, he’d send you pictures of things that reminded him of you with no caption or explanation.

you loosen up, lifting your face from your hand. your fingers twitch, itching to reach out and touch his hair. that would be weird, right? but he’s so close. his head is almost resting on your shoulder. should you?

before you have a chance to stop yourself, your fingers briefly brush through a curl on his head and immediately he flinches back.

fuck. you’ve lost him. he’s scampered away.

mike looks at you with what you think to be an angered expression. his brows knit together, leaning away from you as his eyes glance from your hand to you.

“i’m. . . i’m sorry i-“ you begin to say in defence, feeling embarrassed.

mike continues to eye you cautiously. how could he tell you the kinds of feelings that stirred for him?

suddenly he’s just a boy again. he’s had another nightmare. his mom is beside him in his cramped single bed with patterned dinosaur sheets, her hand on his soft curls at the base of his head. her touch is delicate, like he’s delicate. fingers dancing through curls, mike’s eyelids flutter closed as she hums a familiar, comforting tune.

no one’s touched his hair since then. no one.

well, no one except you. right now.

he’s not sure whether to be angry or to be upset. to snap at you or to apologise for his own reaction. he can feel the sadness bubbling in his stomach, spreading up to his chest. he hadn’t thought about this in so long, convinced he’d never be comforted in that way ever again - or maybe it was that he’d never let himself be comforted like that ever again. yet here he was, craving it.

at this point, you’re convinced it’s over. he’s going to ask you to leave. you crossed a line. there was nothing here between you and him. you wanted to apologise again, but what was the use?

“did you just touch my hair?” he finally spoke up, voice softer than you expected it to be.

you swallow hard, “yeah, sorry, i just- i dunno. . .” your words fall away from you again.

mike visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening up. “it’s okay,” he glances at your hand once more, then back to you as if he’s trying to decide something, “you can. . . if you want to.”

eyes widening, you simply stare back at him, what? you’re stunned into silence for a few moments. you’ve never heard him so soft, almost vulnerable. his gaze continues to flicker to you then away, settling back on the television and returning to the position he was in before with his head close to your shoulder. there’s a hint of red on his cheeks. you can tell he’s. . . scared.

your hand inches closer again, fingertips grazing across his dark, soft curls. immediately you see him take a deep breath through his nose, you can’t figure out what he’s feeling. secretly, he’s feeling relief.

each touch is ghost-like, hardly making contact as you switch between examining his reaction and then back to his hair. once it’s been a minute and you both relax into the interaction, you sink your hands in a little deeper as his hair glides between your fingers with ease. you flinch a little as your fingers reach scalp, splaying your fingers across his skin.

his eyes flutter closed, head slumping forward a little. you smile, drifting your nails across his head gently until you find a curl between your pointer and index finger. you twist it around, letting your fingers comb through it.

mike feels goosebumps pepper up along the back of his neck, soft tingling raining delicately along his scalp. he focuses on the soft, tender sensation of your fingers. suddenly he realises that for once, his mind is quiet. it’s not running ahead, it’s not jumping over hurdles he’d placed for himself, it’s not reliving anything, he’s. . . simply existing here, in this moment, with you.

and he’s letting you. mike isn’t shying away from the touch, instinctively rejecting any form of care. instead, he’s relishing it. his head rests against your shoulder in a final act of defeat, breathing softening to a slow pace.

if it wasn’t so goddamn relaxing, he’d probably allow himself to feel emotional. it had been so long since anyone had cared for him like this, taken the time, or even tried. his walls had grown so high that he was convinced no one would ever dare try to climb them, and if they did he’d snipe them down with a single, devastating shot.

but you? you kept climbing, taking those shots like a champ and continuing to climb anyway. slowly, but surely. and it was almost as though mike never saw you coming. like you were over that wall in a flash - waiting patiently for him to beckon you down to the other side.

and here he was as you approached.

mike’s hand finds your leg in his sleepy haze and gently, sheepishly, lets his fingertips trail across the fabric there. like he’s trying to return the favour.

this simply makes you smile.

your fingers continue to trace small shapes in his hair, a heart, a circle, a square. . . and then all your fingers at once combing through his thick curls. you can’t help but watch the way his head sinks deeper and deeper against your shoulder as he gives in to sensation.

for the first time in forever, he feels sleep beckoning him without the use of pills or any other sleep aids. just you, your simple touch and your body heat accompanying him. it’s incredibly adorable to you, watching him settle underneath your touch. his touch on your leg falters, slowing down to a halt after a short while.

gingerly, your hand snakes to the front of his scalp, running through the curls covering his forehead and exposing the skin there as if to take a peek at his face. your eyes widen and you smile as you see his eyes gently closed, mouth half open. was he. . . sleeping? he’d fallen asleep against you, your fingers still in his hair. and you wouldn’t dare stop. you’d do this forever if time and the world allowed.

it was the most peaceful you’d ever seen him, evoking deep feelings of protectiveness. mike deserved better than what this life gave him, or rather, took from him. you’d do anything to make him feel at peace, even for a little while. what little you could offer to ease the burden, you’d give.

you rest your cheek down against the top of his head, letting your own eyes close - your hands now on the back of his head, playing with the curls that settle there naturally. trying your best, you keep up the soft touches of your fingertips as long as you’re able to before sleep inevitably comes for you too. it comes in waves, your head growing heavier against mike’s as he breathes out light snores.

before long, slumber sweeps you away. both of you laying contently against the other in a sleepy bundle.

tomorrow, you’d both have to face the world, but for now? this moment was yours. and in sleep, mike would pray you’d be there when he awoke.

little did he know, you’d never want to leave his side ever again.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. ‧₊˚ dedicated tags: @helen-on-earth @fatinhadesiners06 @boonam @laurrrelise @sun-spider13 @sammygirlism @sleepyhutcherson ‧₊˚ ily!! .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

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