#there is method to my madness please believe me
Text
A very Crosshair Character Analysis
I posted a poll the other day looking for some opinions, and the prompt was: does Crosshair ever truly miss a shot? Meaning, of all the shots we’ve seen him aim and fire, how many of the few that didn’t land, were intended not to land? Does Crosshair have the skill and ability to land every shot he takes, and what of the ones that go astray (because there are some!)? The overarching, collective opinion (77% of votes) is that the sniper only misses a shot when he intends to, but let me explain why I was asking— the "methods behind my madness," if you will… (Fasten your seatbelts, and keep all extremities— and pitchforks— inside the ride!)
If Crosshair “doesn’t miss”, then there are some things that demand consideration and possible explanation. Please accept this weird internet essay as a deep dive into Crosshair’s character based solely on how I perceived his actions throught season one and two, and opinions I formed while watching his character develop. And while this could not be a Tech-approved analysis without touching on both his perceived good qualities and “flaws”, please know this is not a hate-on-Crosshair post.
Before I get into specifics, I think it’s imperative that we establish a basic understanding of his personality before the chip’s activation. While there is, sadly, not much “footage” we can use to form a true characterization of him, there are some instances we can touch on. The Skako/Anaxes arc from TCW and the earliest few moments of “Aftermath”, Crosshair is shown to be quite sarcastic, uninterested in trivial conversation, measurably combative toward those with differing opinions to his (seemingly all regs, including but not limited to Kix and Jesse), moderately argumentative toward leadership outside of his own Sergeant (mainly Rex, as Crosshair seems to have no qualms following Anakin’s or Cody’s orders), comforting to those who need it (Echo), and an overall good tactical team player.
So, let’s start this analysis by dialling things way back to their mission on Kaller and the complications that arose once Order-66 had been dropped. More specifically, hunting Caleb down in the forest. One of the things I noticed upon first watching that scene and every re-watch since, is how often Crosshair toggles back and forth between blaster bolt and stun cartridge on his rifle, as if constantly battling the indecision of exactly how he wanted to detain the Jedi. Now, if you remember, Tech com’s in and basically says [paraphrased obviously]: “Shit is starting to his the fan, we better get our butts outta here,” to which Hunter responds: “Can’t. Haven’t found the kid yet.” Crosshair then chimes in with, what I have long-deemed to be his catch phrase: “Wrong,” and proceeds to shoot the branch that Caleb is perched on. Not Caleb, who, in Crosshair's mind, should be the rightful recipient of a kill shot… the branch. Hmmmm.
If every one of Crosshair’s shots is so masterfully aimed that its deemed an automatic hit, and thus every miss is intentional (a notion of which I also believe, less one particular shot which I’ll touch on a little later), then there would’ve had to have been a portion of Crosshair’s cognition overriding that Order-66 command to eradicate all Jedi, even if it was only enough to fleetingly switch his gun to stun.
Not long afterward, we see his beloved Firepuncher saber-whacked from his hands, and Crosshair opts to then continue his attack with his backup DC17. Missed shot, missed shot, missed shot, missed shot. Were these blown shots intentional as well? And if so, why does he continue to assail the Padawan? Is Crosshair only able to fight off the command to kill Caleb while his finger is on the trigger, possibly knowing that’s when the fight against his own mind becomes most crucial? Is he clinging to some autonomy in the moments where he’s not posing an imminent threat to those around him, like during the flight back to Kamino? Or can he only resist the chip’s influence when the urge to do something terrible is paramount?
Let’s skip ahead, shall we, to when the Batch is attempting to flee Kamino with Omega. Crosshair sashays onto the landing platform in his new gothboy armour, fresh out of an undescribed chip “augmentation” procedure (whatever that eludes to), and proceeds to have a small stand off with Hunter— both of whom have their weapons directed pointedly away from each other (interesting). During the succeeding fire fight, we see Crosshair line up several well aimed shots, many of which appear to be only inches away from landing on their “intended target”. He eventually succeeds in shooting Wrecker in the shoulder, and I’d like to point out that this shot lands almost exactly where Wrecker was hit by the training droid some hours/days previously. Was the placement of this shot intentional? Did Crosshair pick that particular target area knowing Wrecker would survive the damage?
The shot I find most intriguing is the one near-perfectly aimed at Hunter’s head (lol— brothers). You know, the one where Omega saves the day by unexpectedly blasting Crosshair’s rifle out of his hands. If the chip's activation was the reason he was now hunting them and claiming their treason, why had that moment seen him hesitate? Perhaps he needed a second to line up his shot, you might argue to which I would say argue: we’ve seen him use the active recoil from that same rifle to line up his next shot many times in quick succession with a zero margin of error (see the Skako/Anaxes arc in TCW and the first few minutes of Kaller), including when each shot was aimed at targets both more dynamic in action and further away than Hunter was.
Crosshair then takes several shots at the ramp of the Marauder as they take off, all of which are well aimed… and simultaneously redundant; the passengers are taking cover in the ship already, the Marauder has begun its take off, the ramp is closing, Crosshair running whilst knowing he can’t reach them. I personally attribute those last few shots as tokens of both anger and resentment for being left behind, not ones made with the intention of killing. I think that he expected his brothers to know him better than to believe these actions were of sound mind— he thought they’d be able to deduce that he was fighting a losing battle inside his own head, yet they were quick to believe he would actually entertain such sudden and aggressive hostilities toward them.
At this point, you might be itching to argue that maybe Crosshair's accuracy is largely diminished when he opts for a pistol instead of his rifle, and while I can't dispell this theory, I can provide some statistics. We see Crosshair use a pistol only four times in the entirety of the show so far: 1. against Caleb on Kaller (objective miss), 2. against the Batch Batch as their leaving Kamino (objective miss), 3. against a soldier while he and his new elite soldier squad infiltrate Saw's camp (direct hit), and 4. against Leiutenant Nolan when that asshole he gets on Crosshair's last nerve at the Outpost (direct hit). I will leave it up to you to decide if the theory of whether his skill level changes based on the weapon he's firing holds any merit, or is worth further discussion.
Moving on— the 99-clan is reunited on Bracca. Let’s turn our attention to the shot Crosshair takes at Tech whilst the latter was emerging from the ion engine, and I’m going to include pics this time to support my assertion.
Crosshair has an undeniably clear shot— his line of sight is not impeded, there are no environmental or atmospheric disturbances to disrupt his composure, he was ready and waiting for them to appear. The shot that he fires lands a good distance in front of Tech. Though the unexpectedness of it was enough to startle the genius into nearly falling out of the engine, I believe it was intentionally aimed this way (see below). A warning shot if you will. A “Hello, I outsmarted you and am waiting at your point of attempted escape. Stop trying, and get down here because I don’t want my new imperial cohorts to take aim for me and kill you” shot.
The next arc (Ryloth) quickly demonstrates that any neurological augmentations he’s been subject to (at this point, I believe we've been shown two, but have been led to believe there were several), have had no effect on Crosshair’s infamous sniper skills. First, he fires a perfectly aimed tracking beacon onto the moving target of Gobi’s ship. Then, upon the ship’s return, uses a single shot to disable one of the engines; a shot taken from, what appears to be, several kilometres away and having the immediate desired affect of disabling the ship. Finally, he makes the astoungingly precise shot (and I’m using astoundingly very heavily here) of blasting Senator Taa in the head. This shot, more than the previously mentioned two, are a sign of his impeccable marksmanship. Let me remind you, he was an undisclosed albeit very far distance away, on the opposite ridge of an enshadowed canyon, and is still able to shoot the senator in a place in which HE WOULD SURVIVE the attack. And not just survive, “make a full recovery” as Rampart claims afterward. This is unrivalled accuracy, and while I do not support the assassination attempt in itself, I can not deny how much skill was required to have achieved it.
My next point is something I have always personally found quite compelling, and it occurs in an off-the-cuff, likely forgotten about piece of dialogue.
Brief context: Crosshair has scooped Hunter off of Daro, they’ve landed on Kamino, and the duo (and a third soldier) are on their way to the Command Center to await the rest of the squads arrival. One of Crosshair’s elite troopers waits until he departs the platform before approaching Rampart and saying: “I question the clone’s motives with his old squad. I don’t trust any of them.” I’m intrigued to know where such a potent mistrust began. Is it simply because he’s a clone? A person born and raised unnaturally in comparison to someone with a traditional gestation and upbringing? Or has this soldier previously identified possible cracks in Crosshair’s imperial facade? Has Crosshair failed to hide his distress in quiet moments where he possibly longs for the life he had with his brothers? What is it that triggers this soldier to suspect Crosshair has an ulterior motive in capturing his old squad, and one that they’re apparently worried would not coincide with Rampart’s ideals?
Ramparts reply, in my opinion, gives us a well disguised clue: “If his plan fails, none of them will be a problem any longer.” If his plan fails. Crosshair’s plan. Crosshair has a plan for mobilizing his old family into one place, and what is it? Is he concealing the hidden objective of a reunion with his brothers under the guise of squad assassination? Was it always his plan to eliminate his new elite squad members, hence the perfectly placed mirror pucks we see him utilize in the training room, to make room for his old squad?
Remember, Hunter asks him some time later: “So this was your grand plan? Bring us here and kill us?” Crosshair answers: “If I wanted you dead, you would be.” And this is a statement which I believe to be incontrovertibly true. He has never wanted his family dead, despite having both the resources and skill to ensure they would be if that’s what he desired, but no. He’s angry that he’d inherently felt more loyalty to them than they had shown to him; frustrated that their choices post-Kaller did not align with his expectations of their choices, disheartened that they hadn't initially recognized to his choices to be ones made outside his character, and Crosshair now eagerly rebuffs their every excuse. Reference the spoken: “They don’t leave their own behind… most of the time.” . . . “You tried to kill us, we didn’t have a choice.” . . . “And I did?”
And follows the: “We’re loyal to each other, not some empire.” . . . “You weren’t loyal to me. I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. And it’s why I’m going to give you what you never gave me: a chance…” conversation. (Just stab me in the heart and twist the knife around, Jennifer!!!! Ouch!!! I'm still not over this!)
Was this his plan? To lure his brothers back to their home, and indirectly beg them to join the empire? To offer them the chance to join the ranks of those who have relentlessly hunted them, in the hopes that there might be some semblance of safety in conformity? To reunite the elite squad that they were in the days of the Republic (the original elite squad of which Rampart is trying to replicate with tactically inferior recruited bodies), simply for the safety that joining the empire could potentially promise? Is this the first demonstration of Crosshair using hostility to shield those he cares about from the callous clutches of the empire that he’d become painfully familiar with?
Regardless of the still-unexplained motive, Crosshair’s plan fails. Hunter has either become, or has always been, as protective of his family as Crosshair is stubborn, and he would never willingly subject his brothers (and now sister) to a life of committing abhorrent war crimes in the name of an Emperor who rose, uninhibited, to extreme and unnatural levels of power whilst abolishing the Republic of which they'd previously served. That’s not what their squad was made to do, despite Crosshair trying to convince Hunter perhaps maybe it was.
Unsurprisingly, Crosshair’s pitch falls on deaf ears, even despite killing his elite squad as an offering of trust. Once the training droids have been taken care of and the fray had subsided, Crosshair stands to find Hunter now has a blaster pointed directly at him, as does Wrecker— (Echo and Tech, curiously, keep their weapons pointed away), and the tables have quickly turned. Hunter begins his own plea to his brother, and it leads to a very ambiguous admission. Hunter: “Crosshair, forget the empire. This isn’t you, it’s your inhibitor chip.” Crosshair: “Wrong. I had my chip removed a long time ago.”
What degree of this admission is true? All of it? Parts of it? None of it? Was Crosshair only told that his chip was removed during one of the apparently many augmentations he’d been subject to? Was it removed and replaced with an alternative? Or was it truly extracted, and his questionable actions have been entirely his own? If so, was it the fall of the Republic that spooked him enough to join the ranks of an unknown empire? Did the thought of disobeying orders bother him enough to sacrifice the family dynamic he’s always known, and replace it with a safe sense of conformity? And if this is the case, was missing all of the shots he’d aimed at his brothers, a veiled display of love?
Atop the water hours later, Tipoca City has fallen. Due to their imminent death, Crosshair and his squad have been forced to work together to survive. Tech makes a lingering comment about Crosshair’s unyielding personality being outside of his control, and it’s still ringing in our ears at this point because it implies that a lot of this misunderstanding may just be because of how strongly Crosshair forms opinions, and how only one of his brothers understands that about him. Omega is mid-drowning trying to save her droid friend, Hunter is .4 seconds away from leaping into Kamino’s frigid and turbulent waters to try and retrieve her… and we see Crosshair grab his rifle. This is a shot, of any, that I would expect him to miss— water both impedes and shifts the trajectory of a projectile and mathmatically accommodating for this would take some serious, well thought out calculation; the only usable light for aiming is from the burning remnants of their home, and the container in which Crosshair is perched heaves and tips with every wave.
But he doesn’t miss. He, again, demonstrates that he can make any and every shot he wants to. He lands his shot on AZI’s chest (not dissimilar to where he shot Wrecker, on an obviously smaller scale), and pulls Omega from the depths of the water. Upon turning to see his brothers poised and ready to shoot him if they deemed the need appropriate, I think Crosshair realizes how monumental the fracturing of their squad was. They have no trust left for him. His actions, powered by an inhibitor chip or not, quickly led them to believe he was not the person they knew him to be. As much as he desperately wanted to them understand how powerful the control of the chip was, they didn’t. And I think this moment robs Crosshair of some of his anger and resentment he harboured toward them, and reaffirms that his only option now is to follow the path he was first influenced to follow, regardless of if it’s what he wants now or not. He then chooses abandonment. He chooses to be left stranded on that platform, likely aware that the potential he’d perish there was high. His separation was now his choice.
Let’s move on to Season Two! Episode 3, appropriately named “the Solitary Clone”, indirectly shows us more about Crosshair than I believe any previous episode ever has. Crosshair’s marksmanship is, once again, on full display as he takes down an old separatist tank with one shot (I’m still reeling over it, ok? That shit made me horny). And I can’t move on from this episode without also mentioning how it ended— we know Crosshair has respect for Commander Cody, that was demonstrated by his willingness to follow Cody’s command while he rebuked others’ in the Skako/Anaxes arc. I think it’s also apparent by the return of his notorious sarcasm, that Crosshair is happy to see a familiar face, one of which he may have previously deemed a friend. Cody, in return, places tidbit of trust in Crosshair (I’m also going to link this post in case anyone is curious about my thoughts on Cody’s initial comments). Not only does the commander inch toward the precarious conversation about “going rogue” and the Order-66 debacle, but Cody lets Crosshair take the lead after their shuttle crashes on Desix. “Trust me,” Crosshair begs, and Cody accedes.
They gain access to the strong hold; Crosshair, Cody and Nova (RIP) struggle only mildly with the droid forces ("Droideka's."). Crosshair demonstrates more inhuman trigonometry abilities and immaculate skill by using those mirror pucks to shoot around corners. Cody saves Crosshair’s tushy when a Commando droid gets a little too close to the sniper. Crosshair lowers his weapon at Cody’s request while they negotiate with Tawny Ames, a motion he had otherwise refused earlier in the episode (the civillians they come across behind a closed door— Cody lowers his gun and reassures them, Crosshair does not.) And when the Empire shows its true colours by demanding that Cody renege on his promise of peace and assassinate the governor, Crosshair does not hesitate to answer the call.
Now superficially, this act would appear as nothing more than a repeat of his crimes on Onderon, or Crosshair simply “following orders” as he had previously developed into a sort of mantra. But I think it’s much more layered than that. I think Crosshair recognized that Cody would be subject punishment did he not comply, a notion reinforced by his extended time at Rampart’s elbow, where it was regularly displayed that clones were of little significane and use to this new military regime. What would happen to Cody as a result of his disobedience? Would he simply be demoted from Commander? Would he be court-martialed and questioned? Detained and imprisoned? Killed? Is this why Crosshair took action into his own hands, and “did what needed to be done”? To protect Cody from the repercussions of disobeying a direct order? Or, more harrowingly and something that I am more inclined to believe, was Crosshair protecting Cody from the poignant shame and self-hatred that he knew the Commander would feel if he DID comply? Was Crosshair unwilling to let the mind of another clone be tainted by the emotionless demands of the empire, so he took the action upon himself? Was his objectively unnecessary and cruel attack, an action of deep seated respect and appreciation? Is this why Cody's comment about living with the consequences of their decisions affects Crosshair so deeply as they separate at the end of the mission?
Let’s dial back to the debated intention of Crosshair’s shots— are his missed shots deliberately missed? Our next stop on this journey is The Outpost (my personal favourite, and not because of the dreamy, sardonic, bearded Commander Mayday), but because of the overt growth that we see Crosshair attain. (Here’s an analysis I posted a while back about some of the messages I think the writers were trying to convey via symbolism throughout Crosshair's episodes to this point). If you've read it and even partially subscribe to my theory, then we can agree Crosshair’s mentality has been shifting little by little since we saw him last, and his attachment to Mayday (and the adjacent benefit that Crosshair rediscovers in companionship and brotherhood) is proof of this. So here’s what happens— raiders make it inside the perimeter of the Outpost thanks to limited man-power and degrading equipment. Crosshair heads directly to where he knows he can play to his strengths: high ground. He’s taking quick and careful aim at the retreating insurgent when the nearby shuttle explodes, and something peculiar happens. Whether it be the blinding flash of the explosion magnified significantly by his riflescope that had caused him such immediate discomfort, or something more (chip alert? Maybe? Or residual effects of having it augmented so many times?), but Crosshair’s subsequent shot is not of his regular quality. He hits his target, so I am not deeming this as a shot missed, but Crosshair has a track record of “one-shots” or “kill shots” of which this is not.
I’m inclined to ramble on for centuries about this episode because there is simply so much development, growth, and symbolism that occurs in those 28 minutes— it’s truly a masterpiece in story telling, but I’ve deviated too far from the intention of this essay (novel) so let’s trek forward.
Let’s get to Tipping Point, and what I would deem to be his only failed shot (and the implications of what it might mean). Crosshair has been sedated, interrogated, injected, neglected, confused, and abused since arriving on Tantiss. (You guessed it, I also have an analysis of this episode, structured a little differently than my previous but still helps to break down what I deem to be the motives behind his actions). Hemlock first attempts to bribe Crosshair with his freedom in exchange for information on his brothers, and as such, divulges his true need for Omega. Crosshair, who has never really had the chance to bond with her like his brothers have, refuses to provide any information. And why? Having only a surface level relationship with Omega, and having rebuffed her advances for companionship several times, why would he protect her in the face of imminent chemical torture? Because it directly protects them, and they are no longer being hunted by a squad of recruited bodies lead by an angry brother... but by a twisted and cruel doctor who's methods were proven unorthodox and tortuous upon immediate introduction.
Upon awakening from another round of interrogation, Crosshair understands the time to act is diminishing quickly, as is his ability to refuse Hemlock the information he wants. Each interrogation leaves him physically and mentally weaker; the time is act is now. He shoots and kills the pair of troopers, as well as the interrogation droid, with no difficulty. He stuns Emerie the scientist (possibly recognizing her clone accent for what it is, thus opting not to kill her?), steals her access card, and stumbles from the room. His body is no where near recovered from whatever toxin that droid injected him with, and he staggers through the unknown halls. Quickly coming across a pair of troopers guarding a doorway, the next shot is the only one that I believe he truly missed, and understandably so. It lands on the wall between their heads, and Crosshair quickly realizing his failure, shoots them with the following two rounds.
While missing that shot is largely inconsequential to the overall story, I think it’s an important anecdote for his character growth. In that moment, Crosshair is both physically weakened and mentally desperate to get a message to his brothers, and it’s the combination of those that had his aim faulty. He’s found himself nothing more than a man broken… stripped of the celebrated titles he’d once possessed and mentally mined until simply raising and aiming a blaster, a motion he’d once found more innate as breathing, was a motion difficult for him. He's forsaken his family, lost his purpose, been rendered nothing but an experiment and a tool.
So to summarize this egregiously long essay of Crosshair’s character, I’d like to reiterate that he is human. As we all do, he has faults. A lot of his reasoning is arguably flawed. He makes poor decisions, often in haste without considering the ripple effect it may have. He is extremely stubborn, and he does not communicate well. And there are things he’s done and decisions he’s made that I can not personally elucidate and would love to openly discuss with other Crosshair enthusiasts (example, trying to incinerate his brothers in an ion engine— did he assume Hunter would double back again, and this is Crosshair’s attempt at forcing them into the open? Or is this one of the moments when he cannot fight off the chips control?). You don’t have to like him. You don’t have to agree with him or anything he says. You don’t have to like me or agree with anything I say, but as we head into the third and final Act of this remarkable story, it is worth determining which of his actions are superficially misunderstood, and which have a deeper meaning that a casual viewer might simply overlook.
Thank you for attending the Ted Talk that no one asked for.
Holly ♥️
**forewent the taglist as this is not my typical content
#Crosshair character analysis#character analysis#long post#starqueensrandomthoughts#the bad batch#tbb#bad batch#tbb crosshair#Crosshair tbb#batch batch Crosshair#Crosshair bad batch#please don’t attack me lol
215 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wrongfully Accused
Ruhn x reader
A/n: please enjoy me projecting my hate for the spring break crowds AND Ruhn going full alpha hole for reader lmao
Warnings: possessive Ruhn, comfort (and a rushed ending bc I didn’t know how to end it, i might edit it later)
The Aux had been unreasonably busy this evening. Flynn was starting to develop a headache as the umpteenth slam of the holding cell rang through the small stone space.
On his way back up to the bull pen, rubbing at his temples, Flynn decided he hated spring break. When did he get so old and bitter about fun? Probably when that male shifter jumped off the pier when Flynn told him not to. Arresting college kids in the Istros was a hassle.
His ass hadn’t even touched his desk chair when Dec dropped a new stack of case files and tablet. Flynn collapsed into the rolling chair, throwing his head back letting out a deep sigh. “Were we like this on spring break?”
Dec hummed, “But it was worse because we had Ruhn as immunity.” The lordling sat up shaking his head, starting to sort through the endless paperwork.
“I said I didn’t do anything! Arresting me solves nothing you ass!”
Dec and Flynn’s eyes go wide at the sound of your voice. They watch as you’re dragged through the chaos of headquarters. “Yeah, yeah. Tell it to Cthona because no one else is listening sweetheart.” The Aux member said, shoving you into an empty interrogation room.
The two look at each other. Fear in their eyes for the Hel Ruhn would rain down upon the Aux upon finding out his sweet girl was arrested. “I’ll call Ruhn.” “I’ll find out what happened.” The pair said in unison, splitting up.
———
You could not believe the situation you’re in right now. Arrested and being held in an interrogation room! You were just on your way home from work and got tangled in the mess of drunk spring breakers. It’s not like you were participating in illegal activities.
Just a wrong time, wrong place situation.
You tired to tell the Aux member that arrested you what was going on but he clearly didn’t want to hear you out. Then you pulled out your last resort method. Name dropping your mate. Prince Ruhn Danaan. The male just laughed in your face.
Laying your head on the cool metal table you played with the chain of the cuffs that kept you tethered to the table. Letting out a bored sigh you settle in for a long, long wait. You saw Declan and Flynn by the desks. Thanks to them Ruhn would probably be here soon.
———
“No, no! Up that way! And make sure they don’t run off!” Ruhn yelled to his team. He shook his head taking in the mess around him. Spring fucking break.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket he saw the million and one messages from Dec on his lock screen. Missed calls, voicemails, and texts telling Ruhn to call him back, get back to HQ, and you being arrested. At the sight of your name and ‘arrested’ Ruhn didn’t even bother looking through the texts.
Jumping in the car he called Dec back. “What the hel is going on!” He growled out. Handing the phone over to Flynn he explained the situation. You got caught up in the mad dash for the pier across town and were taken in with the drunk college kids.
Ruhn gripped the steering wheel of the SUV so hard his tattooed fingers cracked. Stepping on the gas he sped off into traffic back toward Aux HQ.
———
Dec met him at the front door to try and quell some of Ruhn’s anger before getting upstairs. He knew he failed when the elevator ride was silent and Ruhn was trying to regulate his breathing.
His mate arrested! And in an interrogation room! Why didn’t either of his friends move you to his office? Questions kept racing through his mind as the elevator dinged. Stepping out he raced towards Flynn’s desk where he stood with the male that arrested you.
Before anyone could step in Ruhn grabbed the male by his collar, growling at him. “What the hel gives you the right to arrest my mate?” The male paled. “I-I thought she was lying,” Runh shoved the male backwards. “You’re suspended. Where is she?” He asked Flynn. “Room three,” he said quickly. Ruhn practically ran to interrogation room three, desperate to know if you were safe.
At the sound of the door banging against the wall you jump, sitting up straight. “Ruhn,” you breathed out, relieved that you would finally be out of these uncomfortable handcuffs. He gave you a pained look, moving to uncuff you. Ruhn rubs your sore wrists, “Sweet girl, are you ok?” He coos at you.
You let out a hum in response and nod. “Can we go home? I don’t want to be here.” Ruhn nods vigorously, his midnight blue hair swishing over his shoulder. “Of course we can princess, come on.” He takes your hand, pulling you into his side. Keeping you tucked under his arm and hidden until he buckles you in the car.
Once you’re home Ruhn carried you up to bed, giving you his shirt to sleep in. He gets the salve from the bathroom to rub on your wrists. You have red marks circling your skin that Ruhn wants to heal immediately. You spend the rest of the night cuddling and talking, with your mate promising that nothing like this would ever happen again.
tagging: @callmeblaire (love you babes💖)
#crescent city#crescent city fanfic#crescent city x reader#crescent city fanfiction#crescent city x you#crescent city ruhn#ruhn danaan x you#ruhn danaan x reader#ruhn x reader#ruhn danaan#ruhn x you#prince ruhn#prince ruhn danaan
215 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rubik Dice
Yandere Entity (Entities?) Blurb
An: In a vent of frustration with a rubix cube - I present this. [Brief mentions of death]
-
Six people to a room.
It's too many.
Between damped sobs and their own; and the feud in their head, they couldn't think let alone say their piece. How did this happen? How could they make such a careless mistake? It was just supposed to be an evening stroll. It had been a week since they'd been out. The longest they'd ever been put away. Being cramped under so long they had to get some fresh air or risk clawing out their throat for a clean breath. It's so cramped in their head, in this room. Six people is far too many to be alone with unless the last person is....
"Nice job, idiot. We're in enough trouble as it is - now what are we going to do?."
It was an accident.
"Don't be so mean! We all have our lapses in judgement sometimes.... Even if they are kidnapping not-so-random strangers off the street."
Didn't you tell me to do it?
"Haha- You really fucked up tonight, didn't you?.. He saw your face. No choice, but to kill him less you never want to be seen in public again? All I'm sayin' is my blades should still be in the bag."
We can't kill any more people. Why are you always like this? Please, can't we just -
"Leave this to a roll of the dice?"
Indecisive on topics ranging from daily meals to torture methods; the trio concluded their shared consciousness to one, unified:
"No."
"Take out that dice and I'm breaking your fingers. Why do we always have to be responsible for your fuck ups?"
"Such a coward. You can crack a brick over someone's skull to shut them up, but you can't stab a knife through their neck to silence them?"
"You know, someone has been reeeeeally quiet since we got back home. We all know what that means."
Ragged breathing stills in the face of its captor. The rambling maniac themselves has quieted to nothing more than a stagnant shell. They both know what's to happen next. There's only one way out of this now. He can beg all he wants, but he'll tell. Even if they believe him the others won't. Neighbors. The police. You. Everything always came back to you. Mistakes, failures, hopes. You'd hate them - all of them - if you knew what took place in this basement. You'd never want to see any of them again.
"Maybe we should let him go... They're pretty hot when they're mad. I'm sure they'd forgive us eventually."
"Quiet."
It's quiet now. How soon the commotion ends when that side of them says their part. Their voice doesn't like nails on a chalkboard. So sweet it makes teeth rot. It isn't authoritative enough to make those who heard Trimble in their wake nor is it meek and pathetic enough for a second listen. It was the amalgam of those voices - the best pairs.
"Now, Blu. You know we can't do things alone that we haven't discussed with everyone else before hand. Would you please let me out so I can take care of our little problem?"
"...ok."
Trembling hands retrieve the fist-sized cube from its pocket; chipped nails slid into the crevice separating the second and third row of squares. Why were they the one that had to solve it? These puzzles were always so hard despite the countless times they've done it - teary eyes aiding little to their cause. It becomes easier once they slide the third white cube into row. Their eyesight and mental slate become clear, cheeks dry and devoid of the faded acne scars that plagued them. They step towards their captive who was busy squirming away from the figure now five inches taller and missing the hunch in their posture that left them wondering how they had managed to drag them here in the beginning. Gaze piercing and laser focus as opposed to cowering from each sniffle. With those pure white eyes it's impossible to tell where they're looking, but the threat of being the target of their glance was petrifying alone. They were blue not even a minute ago. It was like they were a different person entirely - body and soul.
A dice falls to their victim's feet.
"Six.... You were fortune this time."
Another object grabbed from their robes. A single line drawn across their neck - and it's back to five.
"I knew you had that on you...."
"Awww, what the hell - over already? Should've made them beg or at least give us their address."
"May they have a peace rest.... Is what I would say if it were someone else, haha!"
"I think I'm gonna be sick..."
The figure pockets their weapon and stands with a stretch, stepping away from the growing pool of blood. "That was messier than expected. What should we do now?"
"Clean up this mess."
"Check Y/n's page."
"Send them flowers!"
"And this guy's heart in a chocolate box."
"All good ideas. Why don't we do them all?... Besides that last one."
Five people to a room.
As it always should be - until you come home.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere oc#yandere insert#yandere blurb#yandere god#tw yandere#yandere x darling
509 notes
·
View notes
Text
• Like A Volcano | Part Six | • SMUT MDNI
Han Jisung Mini Series
© itshannjisung, 2024
♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡
Series Masterlist
Chapter Genre: Crack💥 Angst⚡️Fluff 💕Suggestive Themes 💋
-Bestfriends to Lovers Trope-
Summary: being best friends with the kings of kpop always has its ups and downs, and when you're offered a spot on the next European-American book tour to promote the publishing of your new book, there's one kpop king in particular who just doesn't want you to go.
Pairing: Idol!Han Jisung x Female Reader x Bestfriend Skz
** Includes two of my own original female characters, both whom are romantically involved with two of the members. Chan x Jo / Minho x Ash **
Warnings: Swearing. brief vulnerability over the trauma yn went through. good guy Jisung (srsly why can't all men be this incredible?). tooth-rotting fluff throughout but mostly towards the end. the boys do not use honorifics. reader is called jagiya & princess SMUT; making out. dry-humping/grinding. breast/nipple play. dirty-ish talk. soft!dom Han. brief dom/sub reader. praise kink. slight doting. fingering. anal play (f rec). edging. unprotected sex (dont do this). p in v sex. reader is on the pill, though it is not mentioned. failed pull out method/cumming inside. multiple positions. hair pulling (m rec). crying during sex. biting. overstimulation (m and f rec). flaccid-fucking. multiple orgasms.
I think that's everything. lmk if I missed something!
Word Count: 11k (lol whoops)
Screenshot Count: 8
**this chapter is edited and revised**
Enjoy!
The second you stepped foot back inside of your apartment with Jisung by your side, a wave of anxiety stabbed you abruptly in the gut. Not because of what was yet to come once the two of you eventually reached the bedroom, but because that same helpless feeling you felt earlier in the night had returned, hitting you at full force despite having Jisung glued to your side.
Your eyes darted around the living room nervously as you dropped your keys onto the table by the door and discarded your shoes. You expected something to jump out from the shadows at any given moment, though logically, you knew nobody else was in here.
Still, your body tensed as you strode further inwards, your jaw clenched in anticipation as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, waiting for something to happen.
A big part of you still felt Seojun lingering in every corner of the one-bedroom apartment you rented out, and when a gust of wind blew in through the cracked window and sent your curtains flying about, you nearly screamed in surprise. Fortunately, all that left your mouth was a small gasp, causing Jisungs arms to wrap around you in an instant.
“It’s alright, Jagiya.” he cooed softly in your ear as his arms tightened around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. “He’s not here. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Your eyebrows shot upwards in surprise at his words, causing you to turn in his hold and look at him in confusion.
“How did you-?” you paused and squinted at him, the pieces forming together quickly inside of your mind. “Minho, that bastard.” you finished with an annoyed grunt.
Obviously it was Minho.
Jisungs hand came up to hold the back of your head as he pulled you into a hug.
“Please don’t be mad at Min, okay? When he, Chan, Jo and Ash left in a hurry this morning I knew something was going on. I practically forced it out of him the second they got back home.” he explained. "I didn't want to believe it until I saw for myself, so I'm sorry for what I said back at the club. You didn't deserve the way I spoke to you. I was just hurt and confused."
You swallowed roughly at the news, wondering how much Minho had told him.
“How much do you know?” You asked, barely registering the coldness that seemed to seep into your words. You bit the inside of your cheek as you waited for Jisungs response.
“He didn’t tell me the details.” he reassured you, his arms still holding you in a tight embrace. “Just that that asshole was hurting you. He didn’t even tell me you were home.”
You nodded slowly, lost in thought.
Despite wanting to be mad at Minho, you knew you couldn’t be. Your friends always had your best interests in mind, even if it didn’t seem like it at times, so Minho telling Jisung meant he was confident Jisung wouldn’t say anything to anyone, especially not to the others.
Though, you knew with how nosy and protective they all were, they’d all find out the truth eventually. It wasn’t like you were planning on hiding it from them, you just wanted to avoid the topic as long as you could. But right here, right now, you couldn’t think of any reason not to tell Jisung the details of what you went through.
You trusted him with your life, and this, whatever this was, was forever. He’d never leave your side again and you knew you’d never leave his.
“Do you want to know?” you asked softly, almost whispering as your head dipped and your eyes found your feet. You wouldn’t push it upon him, but you knew letting him know you trusted him with everything in you was important. He needed the reassurance, needed to see how serious you were about him, about this, about whatever came next for the two of you after tonight.
Jisung was silent for a moment as his fingers found the cast on your arm, causing your eyes to lift up anxiously and meet him once more. He looked pained and unsure as he stared at the plaster, as if the answer to your question was more than just a simple yes or no, because in all honesty, it was.
This was about more than just finding out what makes each other tick, it was about being vulnerable and opening up about the trauma you worked so hard to push away. It was about giving someone the opportunity to destroy you and trusting them not to. It was about handing them a ‘get out of jail’ free card and then praying they wouldn’t use it, that they wouldn’t leave, that they’d stay.
It was scary.
No, it was fucking terrifying, but for Jisung, you would do anything.
After a couple of short, thoughtful breaths, Jisung gave you a sad smile.
“Not unless you want me to know. And even then, I won’t pressure you into telling me.” he answered, softly kissing the tip of your nose. “Just know that I’m not going anywhere, okay? No matter what you went through and who you become because of it, I’ll be right here. I’ll stick by your side while you work through this and do whatever it is you need of me to help. We’re in this together.”
It was like a flame had suddenly ignited inside the depths of your heart at his words. Like someone had poured gasoline into your veins in an attempt to bring you down, and Jisungs words, his encouragement, was the match that lit you on fire and allowed you to fight back.
The sentiment was short and sweet, one that anybody else would have laughed at and waved off as him being too cheesy, but to you, it meant everything. You could feel the sincerity and truth behind each vowel, each consonant, and it made your heart burst with a form of emotion you’ve never felt before.
It was more than the happiness and joy you felt when you were surrounded by your friends, more than the excitement and anticipation you endured when you walked out on stage and found thousands of fans staring back at you. It was more than any pain and sadness you felt during your time away.
This was it. This was true love. And you found it in your best friend, just like you always hoped you would.
A smile broke out onto your face and an unexpected sob escaped your throat as you stared into Jisungs big, beautiful eyes. The ones that held so much adoration, so much joy, so much respect. You saw galaxies upon galaxies inside them, the chocolatey brown nearly hypnotising you as they sparkled in the dim light.
In that moment, you wanted him, needed him, in every way possible, but the words got caught in your throat and all that you managed to squeak out was a small “Thank you Ji.”
Jisung smiled back at you, a laugh seeping from his lips.
“Anything for you, Princess.” he whispered. Your heart skipped a beat.
“Anything, you say?” you then raised your eyebrow suggestively, causing his gummy smile to fade into one of his signature smirks.
The way his eyes darkened as if on cue had a fire stirring in your lower belly.
“Absolutely anything.” he chimed back without hesitation.
And those words of affirmation were all you needed to pick up where the two of you left off at the club. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him to you, swiftly connecting your lips to his. Immediately, he scooped you up and wrapped your legs around his waist as his tongue pushed against your lips, demanding entry.
Before you knew it, you were straddling Jisung on the couch, your tongues both slowly and lazily tasting each other, exploring the expanses of what the other had to offer. While your fingers threaded through his hair, his hands explored you at an achingly slow pace. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his movements neverending as he memorised every inch of skin he could find.
All traces of wanting to rip his clothes off had exited your mind the second he sat the two of you down. There was no rush. You guys had the rest of your lives to jump into the sheets with one another. This night, however, would be one you both would remember for eternity, and the both of you cherished every breathing second you had as if it would be your last.
Every breath was slow, every touch delicate and teasing, every smile and giggle against the others lips dissolved into another long, searing-hot kiss. The two of you could stay like this for hours and still neither of you would be completely satisfied.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat like this for, just holding each other while your tongues battled for dominance, but when Jisung eventually pulled away, the two of you were breathless and exhausted.
You didn’t say a word as his big eyes found yours, his hands finally teasing the hem of the shirt you had on, a look of question in his eyes. He was silently asking permission to go further, to touch more of you, and you hoped the half nod and smile you sent back his way would suffice as an answer as you were still struggling to catch your breath.
Jisung didn’t give you much time to do so before he captured your lips once more and put his hands to work.
When his large, calloused hands dipped beneath the fabric, a jolt of electricity shot across your skin and a gasp fell from your lips into Jisungs open mouth. He smiled against you before reaching his hands higher, his fingers softly tracing up your spine until he came into contact with the clasp of your bra.
With one flick of his wrist, your clasp was undone, and he wasted no time bringing one of his hands around to slip under the cup and grab ahold of your breast.
With his other hand, he pulled your shirt over your head while he gently kneaded you in his palm, your bra following shortly after. He pulled away from your lips and leaned back to briefly stare at your now naked chest in wonder.
“Jesus Christ Jagi,” he whispered delightfully, his thumb coming up to run across your already hardened nipple. Your body jolted at the sensation, causing an evil grin to lift the corners of his mouth while a puddle formed in your panties. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
A blush crept to your cheeks, but instead of feeling insecure and shying away from him, you felt your ego boost to a whole new level.
Jisung brought his face to your chest and delicately kissed the cluster of scabs that sat at the crevice where your torso and arm met. You expected the old cigarette burns to hurt when his lips came into contact with them, but you felt nothing but neutral sensitivity. The action was so intimate and soft you almost lost your senses, but then Jisung was back to the task at hand an instant later, the soft, sweet moment gone.
“Does that feel good, Princess?” Jisung asked as he rubbed his thumb across your nipple once more, watching the way your head fell back while a moan escaped your lips. You nodded in response, your hips seeming to have a mind of their own as they swung back before dragging forwards against the bulge in his pants that didn’t seem to fully go away ever since you kissed him in the club.
Both of you moaned noisily into the emptiness of the apartment as you repeated your actions several more times, the two of you feeling the wave of pleasure you both so desperately craved but were too nervous to insinuate up until now.
“That’s it Jagi, lemme’ hear those pretty sounds.” Jisung mumbled as his other hand came up to cup your other breast, his thumbs now both circling around your nipples simultaneously.
Your jaw fell open and your eyes squeezed closed as pleasure shot through your body at his actions, another moan eliciting itself from deep within. With his thumbs gently playing with your nipples and his dick growing harder and harder against your core, you swore you were on cloud nine. A laugh escaped Jisungs throat as he watched you seductively grind against him.
“That’s my girl.” he praised softly, smiling up at you. Your eyes popped open at his words, the praise sending chills straight down to your pussy, and he flashed you another evil grin before bringing his face back into your chest.
He wasted no time in clamping his mouth down around one of your nipples, his tongue expertly running over it as his now free arm folded around you, holding you against him and causing a halt in your hips movements. A high-pitched cry left your mouth when he pinched the opposite nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, his tongue still working wonders against you.
It had been so long since you had any of this, felt any of this, that you weren’t sure what to do, how to react. No one had ever touched you like this before. Seojun barely spared you any type of physical affection when the two of you got intimate, and if he did, it was brief, never lasting long enough for you to even get worked up over.
Jisung was bringing you into unfamiliar territory, and quickly at that. Despite his strong hold against your lower back, despite wanting to melt into the way his tongue slowly worked your sensitive bud, blowing at it and nibbling when he needed to breathe, you couldn’t help but wiggle. You needed to feel this on top of the added movement of your hips grinding against his. You needed to feel that warm, fuzzy feeling build up in your tummy that you haven’t felt in years.
“Ji.” you cried as your hands flew up to tug at his hair, trying to pull him from your chest. Jisung mumbled a soft ‘hmmm’ in response, his attention solely focused on your breasts.
“I need more.” you whined. The way your lower lip jutted out was more than a little pathetic, you knew that, but with the way Jisung was pleasuring you right now, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Jisung pulled away from you then and craned his head back to stare at you.
“What’s wrong, Princess?” he doted, his fingers pausing in their attack on your swollen nipple and coming up to tug at your pout. “You want more?”
You cried against his touch.
“I need more.” you emphasised, your hips still struggling to move against his firm hold. "I need you."
Jisung paused to brush a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear and giving you a firm kiss on the lips before he released his hold on you.
"God, I want you so bad Princess." he whispered as his darkened eyes sparkled into yours. You swung your hips back and grinded hard against him, continuing your previous assault on the boner in his pants.
"Then fucking take me already Ji." you begged.
Jisung let out a small sigh and brushed some more hair from your face.
"I can't." he pouted. “Even though there’s nothing I would rather do more.”
You quirked your eyebrow and smirked at him as your hips continued their slow movement against his. "Oh, and why is that Ji?" you teased around a small gasp, bringing your face to his jawline where you began planting soft kisses.
Jisung sighed once more, his body growing tense under you, and you immediately stopped all of your movements. You pulled back to look at him, your eyes widening in concern as you took in the anxious expression that had suddenly fallen upon his face and the way he was nervously chewing on his lower lip,
“Ji, Baby, what’s wrong?”
Jisung swallowed roughly before his gaze fell to your shoulder. He pulled his lower lip into his mouth completely, his breath shaky as he gave you a slow response, the anticipation killing you.
“I just,” he paused before his eyes found yours again, his once darkened pupils now dilated with worry. “I don't want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you. We both have alcohol in us and I don’t want our first time to be made on a drunken decision that you’re gonna’ regret in the morning.”
His honesty melted your heart but his insecurities threatened to disintegrate it completely. You hadn’t even thought of the fact that the two of you were running on alcohol and adrenaline alone. You were completely consumed by him that you didn’t even stop to think about what he wanted, what he needed.
It was your turn to reach up and tug at his pout.
“Han Jisung, the man you are.” you whispered in complete awe. Jisung’s lower lip jutted out further and he blinked up at you through his long lashes.
“I’m sorry, Bubs.” he whispered. Instantly, your hands flew up to cup his face, forcing him to tilt his head back and look at you completely.
“Hey. None of that.” you lightly scolded. “Never apologise for speaking your mind and telling me how you feel, okay?” Your eyes shone into his so intensely Jisung thought he might cry. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint you and his anxiety was quickly making him feel as if he was.
He swallowed hard again, his eyes darting between yours. The two of you stared at each other intimately for a moment before he nodded, his body relaxing slightly beneath you.
"I will never regret you." you then added, making sure he understood every syllable and that he felt the truth behind your claim. “Never.”
A small breath of relief left Jisungs mouth and he nodded again, the reassurance charging him like a battery. That’s all he needed to hear.
“Thank you Jagi.” he whispered, his face leaning into the hands that were pressed against his cheeks. The warmth that radiated from your body mixed with the smell of you was soothing and comforting to him, so much so he suddenly felt tired and exhausted and like he could fall asleep right then and there.
You noticed his eyes closing, his body melding into yours, and you leaned forward to plant a kiss on his exposed forehead. Jisung smiled and opened his eyes slightly to beam up at you.
“I’d do anything for you, you know that, right?” you asked softly, your thumbs running delicately against his cheek bones. Jisung's eyes sparkled at your words, his lips tilting upwards into another one of his signature smirks.
“Anything?” he mimicked your words from earlier, causing a giggle to escape your lips. God, he could listen to that sound all day.
You gave his cheeks a small squeeze.
“Absolutely anything.” you quipped back before placing another kiss on his forehead, followed by one to his nose. Jisungs smirk broke out into a smile before he carefully hoisted you off of his lap and held his hand out to you while he stood from the couch.
“Come shower with me?” he asked, his eyes glimmering with joy. You stared up at him, your mind still trying to process how he managed to get you off of him and on to his feet so quickly.
“What?” you asked out of habit. It wasn’t that you hadn’t heard him, you heard him loud and clear, but your brain was foggy as the adrenaline from your lewd actions began to simmer.
Jisung took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet when you took too long to do so yourself. He wasted no time planting a kiss to your cheek before pulling you towards the bathroom door, that damn evil grin appearing on his face once more.
“The sooner we shower and clean up, the sooner we can go to sleep, and the sooner we go to sleep, the sooner we can wake up and do what we’re both dying to do right now.”
He didn’t even wait for your answer as he opened the door to the bathroom and pulled you promptly inside.
*****
Waking up the next morning beside Jisung was a strange and unfamiliar sensation. Not because you had someone in the bed next to you, that much you were used to by now, but because of the sheer level of intimacy that was shared between the two of you as your limbs tangled together in peace.
You never woke up in another person's arms before, their face pressed into the back of your neck where their breath tickled you softly. It was strange to wake up engulfed in another person's scent, their arms wrapped tightly around your torso as if they were scared you’d disappear if they let go, even in their sleep.
It had been a long time since you woke up feeling this calm and at peace.
It had been a long time since you felt this safe.
You blinked your eyes open and glanced over at the alarm clock on your bedside table. It was only six in the morning. You let out a small groan.
You were careful not to jostle Jisung too much as you reached blindly for your phone. You were happy to see you hadn’t received any more messages or calls from Seojun, but the twelve missed calls from Jo and the endless group chat messages left you feeling just as crappy.
You had totally forgotten to text the group last night to let them know you and Jisung were together and safe. You stifled a sound of guilt as you lazily swiped across the screen to read the messages everyone had sent.
You let out a small sigh, laughing silently to yourself at your friends and their antics. You debated texting them back, but Jisung shifting his body behind you had you dropping your phone to the table once more and turning softly in his embrace.
He lay on his back, his one arm still tightly wrapped around you while the other was now thrown across his forehead, trying to block the sunlight that poured into the room. A cool breeze blew through the open window, causing him to squeeze you against his warm body.
You rested your head onto his shoulder and glanced up at him, admiring him as he slept.
He was absolutely exquisite.
His skin was glowing against the early morning sun, making the small scar along his forehead and the mole on his cheek stand out prominently. There were bags under his eyes, only slightly lighter than they were the night before, and his long eyelashes cast shadows across his cheeks beautifully.
The scar beside his eye was practically begging for you to run your finger along it, so you did, reaching up gently and making sure your touch was feather-light. With a mind of its own, your finger then moved to trace the bridge of his nose down to the tip before slowly running along the plushness of his lips.
Your face began to heat up as you thought about his lips and what else they were capable of other than kissing you senseless, and you were so wrapped in the thought that you nearly jumped when Jisungs fingers dug into your side lovingly a moment later, signalling he was awake.
You grinned up at him and poked his mole, causing a smile to breakout across his face, his eyes still closed.
“Good Morning Princess,” he whispered, his voice raspy from sleep. “Did you sleep well?”
With your finger still prodding at the tiny beauty mark, you sighed.
“Better than I have in years.” you told him honestly. Jisung just smiled and brought his other arm around you again, pulling you up so you were laying on top of him, your legs now tangling with his.
You rested your hands along his naked chest, your chin propped on top of them as you melted into his touch and watched as his eyes opened slowly. He looked down at you as one of his hands reached up to brush his knuckles softly against your cheek.
“You’re so gorgeous, Jagiya.” he murmured. “I love you so much.”
You didn’t need to say it back. Jisung knew just from the twinkle in your eyes how deeply you felt for him. It made his heart pound in happiness.
The two of you were silent for a moment, staring at each other in wonder as you both got lost in thought. You felt breathless knowing he was yours now, completely and undeniably so.
You were so scared he wasn’t going to want you back after everything that happened. You were so sure you were going to tell him how you felt and he would just turn around and leave you in the dust, much like you left him.
The fact that the two of you were here now, clinging to each other while you both tried to rid your bodies from sleep, was an absolute dream come true. It couldn’t have turned out better.
You impulsively reached one hand up to trace your fingers against his lips once more, your mind once again swirling with thoughts of him pleasuring you with it.
“I was so worried I wasn’t going to get you back.” you whispered, trying to mask the blush on your cheeks.
Jisung grabbed your fingers and kissed them gently before resting his cheek against them.
“I was so worried you weren’t going to come back.” he answered just as quietly, his eyes staring into yours. You gave him a cheeky grin as you scooted up his torso, bringing your face level with his.
“Yejun told me about all of your late night endeavours. You’ve been pretty busy since I’ve been gone, huh?” you teased before planting a kiss to his cheek and nestling your face into his neck. You breathed him in as his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you in place.
A sigh left his mouth at your words and he let out an embarrassed chuckle.
“Yeah, I’m not proud of who I became when you left. Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me and it was obvious by my actions that I didn’t give a single fuck about those girls or their feelings.” he mumbled. You could tell by the tone in his voice he was severely disappointed in himself, so you lifted your head from his neck and poked his mole again as you stared into his eyes.
“Hey, those girls were lucky to have been underneath you.” you joked. Jisung gave you a soft smile and pushed some hair out of your eyes again as he answered, causing your heart to leap in your chest.
“And yet, none of them stood a single chance against you.”
You dimpled up at him, feeling speechless at his cheesy words before planting a tender kiss to his lips, though Jisung suddenly had other ideas in mind.
As you pulled your face away from him, his hand came up to hold the back of your head, halting you so he could chase you with his lips and pull you back down.
Despite the forty-five minute shower the two of you had the night before, where you did nothing but make out relentlessly in between washing each other's bodies, you still felt your stomach flutter when he pushed his lips against yours.
Despite the hour or so afterwards that you guys spent just holding each other in bed and kissing, never reaching past second base, you still felt your heart thump excitedly in your chest when Jisungs tongue slipped past your swollen lips and battled against yours.
Kissing him now felt as natural to you as breathing, but it still left you feeling breathless and weak to the butterflies that filled your tummy like it was the first kiss all over again. Well, second technically.
But, unlike the many kisses that were shared the night before, this one was quick to become needy and desperate. Gone was the long and slow exploration of each other's mouths and in came frenzied desire as you two clung to each other, both acknowledging it was now morning and you were free to do what you so desperately longed for all night.
With his tongue still battling yours, Jisung removed his hands from your head and let them roam down your body until they were cupping your ass. He squeezed handfuls of your cheeks into his palms, his nails digging desperately into your skin, causing you to hiss in delight as he pulled you against him. You could feel his bulge growing hard against the inside of his boxer briefs, and you felt excitement shake your bones when he lightly lifted his hips to push himself against your core.
You moaned noisily into Jisungs mouth as his hands then slipped further down your ass, his fingers reaching to prod lightly at your panty-covered core from behind. He wasted no time sliding your panties aside and running a finger teasingly along your folds, a groan leaving his mouth as he felt how wet you already were for him.
“Princess,” he mumbled against your lips, his hips pressing up into yours again. “You’re already so wet for me and I haven’t even done anything yet.” he teased as he slowly inserted the tip of his finger into you, only slipping far enough in to reach his first knuckle.
The feeling of just the tip of his finger toying with you had a whine slipping from your mouth as your hips began to grind against his.
“Sungie,” you groaned. “Need you so bad.”
Jisung grinned up at you in awe as he hugged you tight to his chest, his eyes sparkling in excitement when he slowly inserted his finger further into you. The most delectable sound left your mouth, encouraging him to then pump his finger in and out at a snails pace.
The feeling of his clothed dick pushing up into you mixed with his finger softly sliding in and out of your pussy had your legs shaking and your breath caught in your throat. He felt so damn good you could cry.
Jisung mocked the pout that fell onto your face with one of his own as he stared into your eyes, gauging your reaction to his actions.
“What’s wrong Bubby? Feels good, huh? You like it when I touch you like that?”
All you could do was nod in response and let your face fall into the crook of his neck, your breathing heavy.
It had been so long since you’ve been this worked up by something that wasn’t yourself and your own fingers. It was almost painful to feel your orgasm building so quickly.
Unexpectedly, Jisung slipped another finger into you at the same time that he dipped the tip of his thumb over the opening to your anus. A loud, almost pornographic gasp escaped from your throat at the unfamiliarity and foreign sensation.
No one had ever touched you there before, and while you never saw yourself as someone who would enjoy anything to do with that part of your body, you couldn’t deny the absolute euphoria that rattled your bones as Jisung repeated his actions once more.
“Is that okay, Princess?” he whispered, watching you intently for any signs of discomfort. You nodded quickly against his neck before lifting your face to come level with his again.
“Mm'do it again.” you begged before you pressed your mouth to his, the kiss immediately becoming sloppy, teeth clashing against each other as your resolve began to slip.
“Anything for my girl.” Jisung murmured back before he dipped his thumb into your opening again, his fingers moving in time with it.
The heat in your belly grew at double the speed as Jisung worked his digits inside of you. You felt manic as his hold around you loosened, allowing you room to move your hips against his all over again.
Within minutes, the three different sensations all working against you in tandem had you practically screaming, begging for relief. It was all too much.
Just as your head began to grow foggy and the heat in your stomach was on the verge of exploding, Jisung pulled his fingers out of you and flipped you onto your back, stopping you before you could reach your release.
A cry left your mouth involuntarily at the sudden loss of contact.
“What the fuck Ji?” you gasp, your breathing coming out in spurts.
Jisung smirked down at you from where he was hovering over your body on his forearms, his legs tangled with yours as he pressed his erection into your thigh. His silver-blonde hair fell into his eyes as that wicked smile spread across his puffy cheeks.
“Sorry Jagi, but I don’t want you cumming yet unless it's around my cock.”
A growl left your mouth unexpectedly.
“Motherfucker.” you ground out around clenched teeth as you pushed him off of you. Jisungs eyes widened in surprise but he obeyed you without a hassle, allowing you to push him back against the headboard and straddle his thin waist.
“Let’s see if you’re as bratty and submissive as everyone thinks you are.” you half-threatened, your hands working quickly to slip off his boxers. His thick, hard cock bounced back lightly against his stomach, causing you to pause and stare at him in wonder as you threw his boxers somewhere behind you.
Jisung bit the inside of his cheek at your hesitation, watching you nervously as you stared down at him.
“Is it okay, Jagi?” he whispered out. Your eyes flickered up to his and you saw mountains of insecurity in them. Without a pause, you nodded your head and licked your lips, your eyes travelling back downwards.
“It’s fucking perfect Ji. Can’t wait to feel it inside of me.”
A small sigh left his mouth, his shoulders relaxing at your reassurance.
“How’s your pull out game?” you then asked as you continued to stare at him, saliva pooling in your mouth at the mere thought of having him pumping inside of you. Jisung was quick to answer, his insecurities gone as quick as they came.
“As strong as it needs to be, why?”
“I just wann’ feel you raw.” you answered around a huff as you slid your panties off. The shirt Jisung was wearing the night before hung loosely around your body, barely covering your naked skin. Jisung swore he could cum right then and there from just the sight of you.
“Yeah?” his muscles tensed at the thought of having you wrapped around him with nothing separating your bodies. He moaned lightly just imagining it.
You licked your lips and nodded swiftly in response as you straddled his hips, his dick throbbing deliciously in between the two of you.
"Yes. Please. Just let me feel you." You cried. You reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair again and pulled his head back roughly, your eyes shining into his.
Shamelessly, Jisung moaned into the feeling, staring up at you as if his biggest dreams were coming true, because they were.
He always dreamed of being with a dominant girl in the bedroom, but all of the females he’s ever been with insisted on him using his dominance over them. Sure, there was nothing he loved more than bending someone over and fucking them into submission, and he couldn't wait to do that to you, but he longed for the chance to let someone direct him. He yearned to let someone be in control for once and use him to their heart's content.
And alas, here you were, doing exactly that without even being asked.
As if you needed to be any more perfect for him.
As if he needed to be more in love with you than he already was.
“There’s no one like you Jagiya.” he whispered in awe before he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips against yours. You positioned yourself over his dick and pulled his hair roughly once more, earning another whimper from his mouth before you lowered yourself down onto him.
The stretch was slow, excruciatingly delicious. He filled you so perfectly you nearly came from the skin on skin contact alone. Jisung must’ve felt it too because he squeezed his nails into your hip bones and helped pull you down completely until your pelvis was flush with his, a hiss slipping from his lips as euphoria hit him.
For several long seconds, the two of you froze, both crying out in pleasure at the highs that were already building from the naked sensation of each other's bodies against one another.
It made you feel delirious, the way he fit inside you so flawlessly, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix delicately. Your hips twitched with anticipation, causing his dick to press further into you and you couldn’t do anything except let your head fall to his shoulder as a whine left your lips.
“Ji, Baby,” you cried. “You feel so good.”
Jisungs breathing was already laboured as he focused on not cumming inside you. Your walls clenched around him so effortlessly it was almost as if your bodies were made for each other.
“I know, Jagi. I know. Your pussy feels so good around me, it’s making me fucking crazy.” he whined.
"Are you good to go?" You asked, barely holding yourself back from grinding your hips down onto his. Jisung took another deep breath and nodded, desperate to feel you.
You smiled against the skin of his shoulder as you then began to rock your hips, riding him slowly, allowing both of your bodies time to adjust to the feeling. Everytime you'd rock your hips forward, you'd yank Jisungs hair, causing him to whimper and buck his hips up into you, which in turn only encouraged you to move again, desperate for that friction.
It was a vicious cycle that had you both whining with pleasure as you made love to him. Because that's what this was. You weren't fucking him, you were pouring every ounce of love you had for the man underneath you into each roll of your hips, and you knew, you felt, the loving pouring back into you from him as he thrust his hips upwards to meet you halfway.
It didn't take you for long to reach your high again. The knot in your stomach tightened quickly with each movement and you were whimpering into Jisungs ear desperately despite being the one in charge.
Jisung pressed his lips to your ear when he felt your pussy clench around him beautifully. He smiled against your earlobe as he tightened his hold around you.
"That's it Princess. Cum all over my cock." He whispered. That sentence alone, hearing the dirty words slip past his lips, is what sent you over the edge and you did exactly that. You came, hard, drenching him in your juices as a loud gasp fell from your lips and you dug your nails into his shoulders.
Your legs shook violently as Jisung continued pressing his hips up into you, extending your orgasm into one of the best highs you've ever had. It had been so long since you've had one that tears immediately formed in your eyes and pooled down your cheeks.
You shoved your face into Jisungs neck and sniffled, trying to stop the tears from flowing. Tears of relief for reaching the high you were barely able to accomplish on your own, and tears of happiness because Jisung was the one beneath you, making you feel this way.
You always dreamed of this, of him being beneath you, on top of you, inside of you. You spent the last year and a half with another man, fantasising about this one specifically, and having those fantasies finally become a reality was absolutely mind altering. You've never been happier than in this moment.
Jisung stopped his hips movements when he felt your tears wet his skin, and he pulled away slightly to look up at you in concern.
"Are you okay Princess? What's wrong?" His big, brown eyes were full of worry as he watched you cry. His dick was still hard inside of you, and yet all he could focus on was your emotions.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You apologised as you wiped at the wetness on your cheeks. Jisungs hand came up to help wipe the tears that were spilling over uncontrollably.
"What are you apologising for, Bubs?"
You hiccuped and shoved your face back into his neck, feeling heat flush your cheeks in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry. I'll be able to keep going in a minute. I just-” you hiccuped again. “I just haven't had one of those in a long time." You explained.
"What, an orgasm?" Jisung was briefly shocked at your revelation, but it quickly turned to downright annoyance when realisation hit, but it wasn’t directed at you.
"Wait, that asshole never…?" He trailed off when he felt you shake your head against his neck. The two of you were quiet for a couple seconds as Jisung pulled you impossibly closer to him, his dick still twitching restlessly.
“How long has it been since you had one that wasn’t your own doing?” he asked quietly, his heart breaking for you. You took a shaky breath and mumbled your answer into his shoulder, feeling your cheeks flush even more.
“Years.”
Jisungs eyes nearly bulged out of his head, and he was glad you stayed nestled into him. The last thing he wanted was his surprise to be mistaken as pity and have you get even more upset than you already seemed to be.
“Oh, Princess.” he doted as he tightened his hold on you and flipped you onto your back unexpectedly with ease, his dick still burrowed deep inside you. The second your head hit the pillow, your eyes widened with worry and you began to shake your head in protest.
“What are you doing? No, no, no. I’m on top. I’m always on top.” you felt panic begin to grow inside your chest, but it faded away just as quickly as you saw the reassurance in Jisungs eyes. He pulled a hand out from beneath you and wiped at your tears, brushing his fingertips lightly against your cheekbones before kissing them promptly.
“Just take a deep breath Bubs” he whispered. “How about you let me make you feel good, hm? It’s the least I could do for the love of my life.” he cooed. You stared up at him in confusion for a moment, trying to process what it was he said.
He wanted to take over and fuck you?
The idea of being on the receiving end felt so foreign and strange to you. You’ve been the dominant one for so long, you barely remembered what it felt like to let someone else be in control. You stared up at him with your big beautiful eyes, a look of uncertainty in them, and Jisung’s heart nearly broke all over again.
It was at that moment he vowed to himself that he would always do everything in his power to give you as many orgasms as you wanted, whenever you wanted. Anything to get that look of insecurity off your face.
He brushed his fingers against your cheek again when you still didn’t give him a consensual answer to keep going.
“Let me take care of you, Bubby. Let me show you what it feels like to be with a real man. One who loves every square inch of you, inside and out. Just lay back and let Sungie do all the work, yeah?”
The amount of promise and emotion in his eyes had you choking on your next breath. A feeling of excitement brewed low in your stomach, one you hadn’t felt in forever, and you nodded eagerly. You didn’t realise how badly you were craving this until now.
With a satisfied smile, Jisung pulled out of you completely and kissed your forehead before repositioning himself. He took your one leg and laid it flat against the bed, moving to straddle it as he hoisted the other up onto his shoulder. Your body twisted slightly with the movement, leaving you half on your side and leaving your pussy tight and ready for him.
With his hand cradling your leg, he turned his head and kissed your calf softly before positioning himself at your entrance.
“Are you ready Princess?” he asked. You nodded breathlessly, eager to have him fill you up once more. Jisung sent you one of his sweet, gummy smiles before he turned his head and bit roughly into the muscle of your calf, his dick pushing into you at the same time. The pain and pleasure of both actions mixed together so perfectly you let out a string of curse words in response.
The position he had you in was new, one you never tried before, and while your butt ached from the way your body was twisted, you couldn’t deny how good it felt. His dick was pushing against your cervix so flawlessly you nearly passed out from the pleasure alone.
“Oh my fucking god,” you cried as Jisungs hips began to rock into you. The friction of his pelvis rubbing against yours from how deep he pushed was blinding, his mouth only adding to the intensity as he licked and bit at your leg.
You let out a loud squeal as he pulled himself half-way out and slammed back into you again.
“I told myself I was going to take my sweet ass time with you, but the way your pussy is clenching around me right now is making me fucking feral Princess.” he breathed as he picked up his pace, his hips rocking more forcefully into you.
You let your head fall into the pillow as another round of obscene sounds left your throat. Jisung’s head had fallen back in pleasure as he cursed under his breath. You were so perfect for him. He wanted to take care of you and absolutely destroy you at the same time.
“My god, you’re so perfect for me Jagi.” he groaned as his face fell downwards so he could stare at you. You were looking back at him already, your face contorted into a look of pure bliss as he fucked you senseless. He felt his high approaching but he forced it back, wanting to make you finish at least once more before he did.
Luckily for him, you were close, and when his hands came down to wrap around your thigh, his nails digging into your skin as he pulled you even closer, allowing him to go deeper, you shattered.
“Fuck Ji, baby. I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” you cried loudly as you exploded around him, your walls squeezing him deliciously. Jisungs hips halted as he pressed into you as far as he could go, wiggling slightly to help overstimulate you. He paused there, watching your face melt into a puddle of pure satisfaction.
“You’re so good for me Princess.” he reached down to cup your chin, forcing you to look at him as you shook in sensitivity. “Keep your eyes on me, okay? I’m not done yet.”
Before you could process his words, Jisung manoeuvred himself once again until he was snug between both of your legs, looming over you in missionary. His dick automatically slid back into your slick cunt and he wasted no time chasing the high he had been holding back.
He thrust into you hard, his dick sliding delightfully against your walls, his eyes never leaving yours and yours never leaving his. You had barely come down from your previous orgasm, the oversensitivity building another one up so quickly it was overwhelming. But you didn’t dare ask him to stop. Not when he was making you feel so heavenly.
“Fuck Jisung. Fuck, fuck fuck. Your dick feels so good inside of me.” you whimpered as he continued to relentlessly slip in and out of you, the overstimulation perfect. “I’m gonna’ cum again.”
Jisung let out a hearty laugh as his face fell into your neck, his lips and teeth gliding against your skin as he squeezed your hips and tried to hold you still.
“You gonna’ give me another one?” he teased, to which all you could do was nod in response. His question quickly sent you over the edge again unexpectedly, your body floating in bliss as the white hot pleasure threatened to blind you.
“Holy shit, Bubby. Your pussy feels amazing sucking me in like this. You’re so fucking tight. Shit.” Jisung’s movements faltered as his orgasm approached quickly. “Shit, Princess, I’m gonna’ cum. Let me out.”
Instead of allowing him enough room to exit and cum all over your tummy, you wrapped your legs around his slutty waist and squeezed him closer to you. Jisungs eyes widened in panic, his hips stuttering again.
“What’re you doing?” he squeaked as he tried to hold back his orgasm long enough to escape. The pout on your face would have driven him over the edge if your next words hadn’t.
“I want you to cum inside of me Ji.” you whimpered, staring into his eyes.
“Wha-?” Jisung stuttered over his words. He was feeling so frenzied he barely managed to slow his hips down long enough to make sure he heard you right. “Are you - fuck - are you sure?"
You nodded quickly, feeling tears form in your eyes again because of how desperately you wanted to feel him. “I wann’ feel you fill me up. Please Jisung. Make me yours.”
The affirmation was all he needed. Jisung nodded and pressed a kiss to your lips as he bucked his hips, picking up his pace once more. The small break in his movements, the unintentional edging, left him absolutely pussy drunk. He began slamming into you with so much force your body was moving up the bed with every thrust.
“Oh Jagi,” he moaned. “I’m gonna fill you up so good. Gonna give it to you so nice. Fuck. Tell me how much you love me Bubby. Tell me you’re all mine.” he begged desperately.
The oversensitivity from your orgasm had you feeling unhinged, barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone form another sentence to respond.
“‘Mmmm love you s’much Ji. More than anything else in’he world. I’m all yours.”
“Fuck Jagiya. I’m fucking cumming.”
A second later, he exploded. His load shot into you at neck-breaking speed, painting your walls and filling you to the brim. He had waited so long to fuck you, there was so much of it. It spilled out of you so easily, and yet, Jisung couldn’t get enough of those pretty sounds leaving your mouth.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he forced his hips to continue a slow thrust forwards, extending his orgasm impossibly more, the overstimulation driving him crazy.
You let out a whimper as you felt his dick slowly softening inside of you. Regardless, it still felt amazing pushing inside of your pussy, and you knew if he kept thrusting into you like that, you’d cum again from the feeling of it alone.
“You got one more in you, yeah?” Jisung asked lovingly as he pushed the hair off of your sweaty forehead. Your eyes barely opened, a soft cry leaving your mouth as you nodded, desperate for that high you suddenly felt absolutely addicted to.
“Of course you do, that’s why you’re so good for me.” he praised as he continued to fuck you while his dick softened. It was rubbing so delicious into your swollen clit, a mixture of your juices and his spilling from you and onto the bed sheets.
“Gotta’ make sure my Princess is satisfied.” Jisung lips found yours and he brought you in for a long, slow, burning-hot kiss. One that was no longer rushed, no longer delirious and desperate. One that, much like the night before, held mountains of love and adoration and happiness. One that showed you just how much you meant to him, how much he needed you, how hard he fell for you.
It was passionate, feeling his tongue glide over yours as his dick lazily pushed in and out of you, your orgasm building as quickly as the others had. His hands slowly trailed up underneath your shirt and he softly caressed your breasts, his fingers moving to play with your nipples as his swollen lips left yours and latched onto your neck. He licked the sensitive spot right below your jawline before biting it gently and before you knew it, another orgasm hit, an exhausted cry leaving your mouth.
“That’s my fucking girl.” Jisung praised, his hips stuttering to a halt as you came around his cock one last time.
He watched you with pure adoration, loving the way your face twisted up in pleasure as you came around his semi-hard dick. You looked absolutely gorgeous, hair sprawled out across the pillow, body slick with sweat, your eyes barely open as your jaw fell slack.
You were so beautiful he felt himself growing hard again already. He would've loved to keep going, fucking you like this for hours until you were both spent and exhausted, but the pained look that spread across your face when he experimentally bucked his hips forwards once more told him you were done for.
Jisung carefully pulled out of you as you tried to catch your breath. He smiled down at you before he rolled onto his back and pulled your naked body on top of him. You barely had enough energy to look at him, so you settled for resting your head across his chest.
Jisung wrapped one of his strong hands around your waist while the other played with your hair softly, his fingers brushing through the knotted and sweaty strands.
The two of you laid like that for a while, both silently catching your breaths. You listened to his heartbeat pumping softly in your ear and it was so comforting you were sure you would've fallen asleep if Jisung hadn't spoken up into the silence that engulfed the room.
"So I've been thinking."
"Uh oh. That's dangerous." You teased. You twisted your head to smirk up at him as he grinned down at you and pinched your sides in retaliation. An adorable squeal escaped your mouth then as his fingers proceeded to gently tickle you, and Jisung swore your laugh was the most beautiful sound ever to exist on earth. He'd listen to it for eternity if he could.
"You're a jerk." He mused, planting a soft kiss to your forehead. You beamed up at him and pinched his cheeks.
"You love me."
Jisung didn't bother denying it. He simply just beamed back at you before leaning forwards to plant another kiss to your face, this one on your nose.
"More than you'll ever understand."
He paused to take a deep breath, brushing your messy hair away from your face before he continued on with what he wanted to say.
"Anyways, as I was saying. How would you feel about moving into the house with the rest of us?"
Still staring up at him, you arched an eyebrow and gave him another sly smile despite the way your heart rate rose quickly at his question.
"Han Jisung," you tsked. "That's a big step. We aren't even dating yet."
You expected a pout to appear on Jisungs face at your joke, but you were surprised to find him smirking back at you instead, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek in amusement.
"Really? 'Cause I thought it was pretty obvious that we were after I had you practically screaming my name just a minute ago." Your jaw dropped in surprise at his upfront teasing. Jisungs smirk deepened as he caught your reaction before he mimicked you in a high-pitched voice, moaning with each word as it left his mouth dramatically.
"Oh Jisung! Oi Papi! You're so good! I love you so much! More than anything else in the world! I'm all yours! Take me, take me!”
You smacked his arm and tried to hide your giggle around a hard glare, but failed miserably. “Alright, alright. It wasn’t that dramatic.”
Jisung let out a laugh of his own at his theatrics and snuggled you closer to him.
“Seriously though, Bubs. Move into the house with us. You practically live there already. We can turn the guest bedroom into an office for you and you can stay with me in mine. We’ve been dying to have you move in for years now.” he explained as he rubbed a hand slowly up and down your back.
Electricity shot through the ends of his fingertips as he trailed his fingers along the curve of your spine. You melted into his touch as you stared up at him, your fingers coming up to prod at his adorable mole again.
Moving in with Jisung and the rest of the family seemed like nothing but a green flag. You did already spend all of your time at the house rather than your own apartment, and you knew each and every member of your friend group would be absolutely over the moon if you moved in. But, you were an introvert at heart, and although you loved your friends dearly, you knew you’d miss your cherished alone time and private space.
“I don’t know Ji.” you whispered as you stared at his beauty mark, unable to meet his gentle gaze. Jisung’s grin softened as he searched your eyes for any sign of you being uncomfortable with his request. He was relieved to find none but he did notice a hint of uncertainty in them, which he knew came from your introverted nature.
“I know you always said you enjoyed having your own space, but I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you moved in with us. I wouldn’t have to worry so much about Seojun showing up out of nowhere and catching you when you’re home alone.” he whispered.
You didn’t want to see the look of disappointment you knew would come to his face when you turned down his idea, so you settled with biting your lip as if you were still undecided.
“I don’t know. I need space for all of my stuff, and you and I both know that the guest bedroom is desperately needed for the amount of parties you idiots throw during your off time. I’ve seen more naked bodies in that bed than I care to admit.”
Jisung let out a small huff and curled his mouth to the side as he fell into another thought, taking your response seriously. You waited patiently as you watched the gears in his brain work in double time while he tried to come up with a better solution.
“Well, what if we move out and get a place together? I can keep you safe.”
Your heart jumped at the proposal, warmth spreading throughout your limbs as soon as the words left Jisungs mouth. You were taken back by how quickly he managed to come up with the idea, almost like he had been debating it for a while.
The second the words reached your ears, there wasn’t anything you wanted more, but you still found yourself shaking your head and giving him a pointed look.
“You wouldn’t hurt a fly, Ji.” you stated, as if that was reason enough not to. Jisungs eyebrows furrowed and he gave you an artificial look of disgust.
“Excuse you, but if Seojun ever dared to show up around here again, you can bet your sweet ass I’d put him in the hospital.”
You let out a thankful smile before you sighed.
“You don’t have to feel obligated to move in with me to keep me safe.” you spoke, your voice soft and quiet. Jisung scoffed at your words and shook his head as if what you said was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.
“Princess, I’m not doing it as an obligation.” he paused to catch your chin in between his fingers as you began to turn your head away, forcing you to look him in the eye. “I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me, okay? For us. Because now that I have you, the thought of not waking up next to you or coming home to you from here on out makes my stomach turn with anxiety. I don’t want to go another day or night without you by my side.”
You swore to yourself you weren’t going to cry again for the rest of the day, rest of the week even, but after seeing the honesty and sincerity and absolute devotion in his dark eyes, you felt the tears begin to form. The two of you were silent for a moment as he let his words, his emotions, sink in.
This was it for him. You were it for him. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.
You pouted up at him in astonishment.
“You’d… You’d move out of the family house and find a place with me?”
Jisung smiled down at you and wiped at the tears that were threatening to spill out of your widened eyes.
“Baby, I’d marry you tomorrow if I could.”
You swallowed roughly, choking back a sob at his words. It was definitely too soon to be talking about marriage, but the underlying commitment and unspoken promise in his voice rocked you to the core, rendering you speechless.
“I’m also going to sit down and talk with Chan and the managers to see what I have to do in order to bring you along with us whenever we travel for tours and performances and such.”
You blinked up at him, the surprise from his previous statement only making you more emotional. You weren’t expecting that.
“What?” was all you managed out. Jisung brushed his fingers through your hair and let out a hearty laugh.
“What? I was serious when I said I didn’t want to go another night without sleeping next to you.”
Your eyebrow shot up in question.
“Is that really a good idea?”
Jisung shrugged his shoulders and pulled your naked bodies impossibly closer together, revelling in the feeling of your soft skin on his. He could never get enough of this, enough of you.
“Ash and Jo come along with us. So why can’t you?”
It was your turn to scoff and let out a laugh.
“Ash has to, she's the head of make-up. And Chan threw an absolute fit when it came to Jo and that barely worked. How do you know they’ll let you?”
“I’ll throw a bigger fit.” Jisung answered, as if it was obvious. A smile broke out onto your face and you shook your head at him as he continued speaking. “I’m an idol, Baby. They have to let me. Plus, if the sex continues being this incredible, I won’t survive without it. And I can guarantee you none of them would want to put up with my cranky, stressed out ass if I’m forced to go months without you. I swear to God, there’s nothing more stress-relieving than being balls deep inside of your perfect little pussy.”
His voice had gone deep and husky, and you could feel his dick growing hard against your leg once again. Butterflies set off inside your stomach at his words, his tone. His one hand tightened its hold around your waist while the other guided your face towards his, his nose tracing yours.
“You’re so dramatic.” you whispered, your lips hardly brushing his.
Jisungs hand held your head in place as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You immediately melted into his touch, his scent, his taste as he opened his mouth and ran his tongue along yours lazily.
“Not dramatic. Just hopelessly in love.” he whispered as he pulled away and beamed up at you, his eyes sparkling with that familiar look of lust and love and happiness. You pulled further away from him and prodded his mole again with your finger, deciding it was your favourite thing to do.
“And what happens when this honeymoon phase ends Ji?” you questioned with a quirk of your brow. Jisung turned his head and caught your finger between his teeth, biting it playfully as his hand began tracing the curvature of your ass.
“Oh trust me. It never will. You’re my destiny, Jagiya.”
You practically swooned.
“Damn,” you breathed, fanning yourself dramatically, ignoring the flush that engulfed your cheeks and spread to your ears. “You love me that much?”
Jisung squeezed your ass into the palm of his hand, unintentionally pulling you against his hardening dick.. You could see the heat and desperation growing in his darkening eyes, causing a ball of fire to brew in the pit of your stomach.
“More than you’ll ever understand y/n. My love for you is like an eternal flame. It burns brighter than the sun and hotter than any desert on earth. It is truly and utterly endless.”
At his confession, you moved to abruptly straddle his waist, his words igniting a fire in your core. His dick pushed deliciously against your opening. Jisung let out a whimper as you lightly rubbed your pussy against the head of his cock, teasing him as you sent him a knowing smirk.
“You mean like a volcano?” you inquired. The smile that broke out onto Jisungs face would forever be imprinted into your eyelids as he connected the dots to what you were saying. He shook his head at you in awe, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly to his chest as he pulled you down onto him. He filled you to the brim in one motion, ripping a loud cry from your throat.
“You’re damn right Princess. Like a Goddamn volcano.”
AHH I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE AT THE END OMG!!
as mentioned in a previous post, I will not be writing/posting a Jisung POV anytime soon, but I do want to eventually do a bonus chapter, whether that be a pov or a time jump, idk yet. i will make an announcement about it closer to the time i do, so watch out for that.
Thank you all so much for reading and joining me on my journey of reposting this fic. As my first one, it is still so dear to my heart and I'm thankful I had that chance to go back and edit what I wanted to. I'm so much happier with this version than the original on my old blog. I hope you all love it as much as I do!
Taglist || @sungshineworld @collisvng @ihrtlix @queen-in-the-shadows @cassidymb121
Previous Part | Back To The Masterlist
#Like A Volcano#Like A Volcano Mini Series#Hannji's Mini Series#han jisung mini series#han jisung x reader#best friend skz#stray kids fic#han jisung fic#skz han#bff skz#LAV by Hannji#han jisung smut#stray kids smut#skz smut#itsseohannbin#itshannjisung
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Manifestation/Loa Myths I believe in
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
1. State of lack/Being in lack
Now the only reason I feel this is a myth is because there is literally no such thing as a state of lack. There have been people who have literally manifested there dream life n throughout that entire time they doubted, overthink, stressed, "wavered, etc and STILL MANIFESTED ALL THERE DESIRES! The only way you can even be in the state of lack is not being aware of it existing whether it's in imagination or in 3d. You can feel what u want to feel, act how u wanna act, be who u wanna be, why on earth are you worried about doubts n negative thoughts when if you aware you create your reality you can literally assume that doubts, wavering and overthinking makes your desires manifest faster like come on this is law of assumption not the law of being the picture perfect manifestor
2. Wavering
Like i said in the last one state of lack ain't real only way you can be in a state of lack is if your not aware of something existing whether it's in 3d or 4d which leads me to this next one which is wavering. Now yall know how much wavering can really make u stressed but I just wanna say especially for beginners WAVERING! IS! NORMAL! now is it beneficial when u do it more than accepting your power, well probably not but does that mean it will be like that all the time absolutely not. You cam literally assume that wavering makes your manifesting abilities stronger and more powerful, all it takes is one decision to change your entire life BUT all you have to do is ACCEPT AND HAVE! FAITH! IN! YOUR! POWER!! you gotta believe in yourself darling. I'm sure yall have seen very pretty ppl have there low moments but does that mean they no longer feel or know they are still very pretty or rich or privileged or whatever ABSOLUTELY NOT and sometimes when it comes down to it u really gotta look at the doubts n wavering as some haters cuz yall know a hater can't STAND TO SEE WINNERS WIN. Have your down moments if needed cru scream get mad punch shit whatever the case may be but if you understand the law of assumption n you understand that you have the power literally get your ass back up AND BE THE KING AND/OR QUEEN THAT YOU ARE
3. Manifestation is instant
Now before yall come at me just here me out 😭😭😭 as someone who use to have a issue with this I will tell u why I say this. Now we are all aware manifestation is instant in imagination because imagination creates reality but sometimes it can be a bit frustrating when you've been told u get your desire instantly n then look at 3d n see the total opposite. The purpose of methods n stuff is to remind yourself you already have what you want but please don't think that there us a such thing as a "affirming from lack, visualizing from lack, etc" if you are addressing in some way shape or form that u do have what u want whether it's past present or future, 1st 2nd or 3rd person don't matter you are well aware that that is what makes u feel kost at ease with feeling like u have what u want n that's good. The ONLY reason you aren't manifesting instantly is because you assume you can't if manifesting is nothing more then changing your mindset and persisting in desirable assumption then why on earth u think manifesting takes long, I mean eventually it will be so quick if u continually just test it out more n more you'd already be able to manifest instantly STOP WORRYING ABOUT TIME N JUST DO IT APPLY WHAT U KNOW. Do what works for u that makes u feel like manifesting is fun n easy cuz it is only as easy n fun as u make it
Conclusion
This currently all I had on my mind right now I hope this made sense n not sound contradictory since I wasn't sure how to explain some of the stuff 😭 but anyways that's all gimme more post ideas to talk about
#law of assumption#manifestation#manifesting#msallurea#neville goddard#my blog#affirm and persist#loa
129 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oshi no Ko 143 Reaction
This was a fun chapter. Ruby getting aggressive finally forcing Aqua to stop ignoring the problems in their relationship that have been simmering for 20 chaps now and actually have a conversation that puts it all out in the open. They're mostly saying stuff I predicted in advance, but some of it took me by surprise.
One bit that made me stand up and !!! was this page:
I thought I was doing something interesting when I compared Ruby's feelings towards Gorou to Aqua's feelings about Ai in my last two analyses but she just came out and said it directly on page, haha. I feel pretty validated.
I still stand behind most of what I wrote last week after this chapter. Ruby is desperately trying to make this a romance, but her best pitch is "I care about you in the same way we cared about idols in our past lives. Parasocially and without regard for the actual person, because I need to put somebody on an idealized pedestal or else I'll kill myself. This is what romance is, right?" Girl with so so so many issues, I love her.
The one thing that did really take me by surprise was the bit where she listed off Aqua's flaws as a person. In the past I assumed that Ruby was intentionally ignoring these flaws and making up a version of Aqua that didn't exist in her head. The way in her mind he's drawn like a romance hero and how she makes excuses for all the things she took issue with before lead me to believe she was intentionally distancing "Gorou, her idol" from "Aqua, the person, her brother" in her head. I'm not sure how to square this knowledge with the way she is (textually, now!) putting him on a pedestal. If I had to guess, I would think she actually is aware of who Aqua is as a person - she was friends with him as Gorou before and siblings for 18 years, she should know him better than anybody - but is intentionally separating this knowledge from the figure she is idolizing, because she needs to keep ahold of something for her mental stability.
I'm reminded of an analysis post of OnK ep 1 I read on tumblr almost a year ago, I forget who posted it so I can't properly credit it but it's not my own thoughts. (if anybody else remembers it please let me know so I can link it!) They contrasted Gorou's parasocial fan relationship with Ai to Ryosuke, the stalker who killed him: both put were fans of Ai, the Idol, but when confronted with the reality that she was more than an idol, that she had relationships and would have children, Gorou decided that the health and happiness of Ai the person was more important than his image of Ai the Idol, and did his best as a doctor to help her, while Ryosuke's reaction to having his image of the Idol shattered was to try and destroy Ai the person. The analysis put forth the idea that this was contrasting healthy vs unhealthy methods of being a fan - that there's nothing wrong with being a fan of someone, necessarily, but you have to keep in mind that you aren't entitled to anything about them, and there's always a real person underneath the performance.
I didn't fully agree with it - in my post about how the series portrays different kinds of love I talked about how it came down very harshly on dishonest and idolizing love - but I did think it was very interesting (obviously as I still remember it almost a year later). Anyway Ruby's approach to Aqua this chapter made me think of that a lot. She makes a big deal out of how Aqua is her idol, their relationship is idol/fan, and she can ignore all his flaws - but at the same time she points out that she does actually know what those flaws are. It puts her in something of a strange position. What would she do if her image of The Doctor, Her Idol, no longer existed, and she was left with just Aqua? Would she care for the person, or be mad at losing the illusion? According to this chapter she fits into neither of those, she chooses to pretend that the illusion still exists even while staring directly at the reality. Ruby seems aware that she is essentially using the idea of the doctor as a coping mechanism, but doesn't want to admit that this desire is directly in tension with the idea about caring about Aqua as a person, romantically or otherwise.
As for Aqua, it's great that he's finally being a little honest with his emotions and feelings after so long, to the one person who is really able to understand the context.
However, I think he's still holding a lot back, especially in the latter half of the chapter, because there are things he doesn't feel that he can say to Ruby, specifically about their relationship. He seems hesitant to directly tell Ruby that he can't be her lover or her idol, he can only be himself - even when he tries to tell her that he can't be the person he was she just brushes it off - and I think with how Ruby's mental health is holding on by a thread he is unwilling to do anything to jeopardize it, even if it means accepting the spot on her pedestal.
My read of the relationship between Gorou and Sarina 22 years ago was that they were genuine friends at the time. Regardless of difference in age and position they were both socially isolated people who found one person they felt they could be honest and open with. This makes their current relationship even sadder - Ruby has twisted the memory of their old friendship into dreams of romance and idolatry to fuel the desire to live one more day. Aqua, who in his last life would have been willing to do almost anything to get her to keep living, is forced to cut away his own relationship to her, both last life friend and current life brother, because being dishonest - being an idol - is the only way he can see to keep her alive and healthy. Both have already cut away most of their other bonds for the sake of the revenge plan, and now they can't even be fully honest with each other. Very tragic stuff.
All in all I really really liked this chapter. The interactions between Ruby and Aqua has always been multiple layers of relationships and mindsets existing on top of one another, and that just makes it super interesting for me. I love it whenever that leads to character tension. They've been friends and siblings and idols and all of that has to coexist, its a very unique kind of character writing that Oshi no Ko does well and I don't see very often and makes me care for the series a lot. I think I have a much more positive view of this arc than most of the fandom because the trainwreck of their relationship is one of the series highlights to me, so chapters like this, where exactly how bad their mindsets have gotten are placed as the main focus, are some of my favorite story beats.
I know there's a lot of negativity about this chap but I'm having a good time over here in my corner. Not sure if it's because I've been letting my thoughts about the series out in posts a lot more recently or because I liked this specific chapter a lot but this is definitely most I've been invested in the series for a while now. I think I was letting the Discourse kind of sour things for me and now I have mentally exorcised it from my mind.
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Devoured Devotion
You rise earlier than usual, taking in Liyue in the darker hours of the morning. Zhongli firmly believes he can get you back to sleep using unconventional methods
are we reposting old ao3 works? yes absolutely there’s no shame here so enjoy
The birds were awake. Their melodies sang softly through the crisp air, cutting through the quiet of Liyue Harbor before she woke. I blinked away the sleep and took in the sky outside the window. Liyue was beautiful but it was this time, where the sun's light teased the horizon, that I loved the most. She was calm now, noiseless, safe for her birds, and it contrasted greatly to the bustle of life I had grown to love come morning time. A strong arm tightened around my waist and pulled me in closer.
“My dear, you rise quite early,” Zhongli murmured into my neck. He smelled of qixing and musk and I let it envelop me fully. I brought his hand to my lips and pressed softly, “Morning,” I breathed back. The sun had risen slightly now, rays of molten gold dripped over us. This, I thought, was bliss and it belonged to only me.
“Come back to sleep again, there’s much time before we have to be awake.”
I turned around to face him, golden eyes were half lidded and gazing intently at my own. He was gorgeous even like this, his hair slightly tousled, framing his sculpted features as light danced across them. I had been awake for some time, the guise of sleep slipping away with the birdsong.
“I’m too awake, there's no way I can sleep now Zhongli.”
“No?”
His hand had trailed up from my waist and now held my chin gently, eyes trained on my lips as he grazed them beneath his thumb. When he spoke again I felt my stomach flutter at his suggestive tone.
“What are we to do about that my love?”
I hummed, throwing my arms around his neck loosely, “I’m sure you can think of something.”
As soon as the words left my mouth he was on top of me, trapping me beneath his solid frame. I meld myself into him on instinct, reeling at his length pressed against me.
Archons bless the mornings.
His mouth was hot and heavy on my neck, biting, sucking, claiming me as his. My fingers found themselves in his hair, tugging it slightly when he sucked on my sweet spot. He growled. His hand had engulfed my wrists and held them above me, “Forgive me darling, I lack patience this morning.” I could see his pupils dilated under hooded lids, almost mad with lust. What he lacked in patience was made up for tenfold when his free hand wandered down my body. Hands smooth as they teased me achingly through the layers. I decided promptly that clothes were now my sworn enemy.
“Zhongli please,” I needed more and I needed it now, he circled my entrance, pressing ever so slightly; I threw my head back against the pillow and arched into him. “Please, I need it.”
He tutted softly,
“Use your words my love, what do you need?”
Feeling bold I looked up at him and moaned, “I need you inside me please.” He groaned into my neck and I smiled inwardly. If he was going to tease me I would do it right back to him, two can play that game. His finger slowly pushed inside me, pumping in and out at a tortuous pace, I rutted against his hand, desperate for more friction. He chuckled darkly.
“You’re such a needy little thing. So mouthy until I’m inside you darling.” I could feel my walls tightening around him and moaned in agreement as heat spread to my cheeks. He worked another finger inside of me softly, his actions contrasting his rough words. Soon I could hear how embarrassingly wet I was around him and the room filled with moans as I was searching for release. He pulled away suddenly and I was shocked by the sound that I let out, high and needy, Archons I needed him.
“Beg.”
The command went straight to my core. I shook my head in embarrassment and arched to meet him only to have him pull away. I felt his hand reach up to my throat and apply pressure.
“That wasn’t a suggestion, do it.”
If I wasn’t needy before I sure as hell was now.
“Fuck me,” his hand tightened. “Please.”
Nothing.
“Please Zhongli, I need your cock in me,” I whined.
My efforts were rewarded as his hand left my neck to position himself to go inside me. The tip of his cock nudged into me until he completely bottomed out. He groaned lowly against my ear,
“This,” his hand traveled downwards, “Is mine.”
He thrusted into me slowly, his lips were bruising mine until I became breathless underneath him. The pace picked up.
“Did I tell you to stop?”
I moaned in confusion and peered up at him. He looked like pure sex and I felt like cumming on the spot.
“Beg for me.”
My eyes rolled back as I babbled up an incoherent series of pleas and mores trying to keep up with his punishing pace. The room filled up with the obscene sounds my body was making for him, I was made for him.
His hands were all over me and though I begged for him it felt as though he was the one to worship me. Lips found their way back to mine, his mouth dominated mine and I melted into his kiss.
The feeling of my release was rushing in and my hands found their way to his back, scratching down. He was just as much mine as I was his and I wanted the world to know this.
“I need- fuck please I need to come.”
It was so close I couldn’t think straight on his dick.
“You don’t need anything unless I say so love, don’t forget your place.”
Archons he was going to ruin me in the best way with the way he spoke.
“Zhongli-”
“Is that how you beg your Archon?”
My nails unconsciously dug deeper into him and I threw my head back.
“M-Morax please let me cum, please,”
He lifted my legs higher and thrust into me impossibly deep. I was seeing stars.
“Tell me who you belong to,”
“You! I belong to Morax I belong to you please”
He kissed me deeply and I felt his fingers touch me,
“Come for me love.”
I came undone on his cock and fingers throwing my head back. He thrusted a final time and I felt his warm cum filling me up. His hand came up to hold my face and I opened my eyes to meet his glowing orbs. His forehead pressed against mine,
“I’m sorry I was a bit rough, my love, are you ok?”
Warm words were murmured onto my lips and I couldn't help but smile like an idiot,
“You’re perfect. Never could you hurt me.”
I pressed my lips against him in a silent reassurance and felt him relax into me.
We lay like this for a while, basking in each other's presence.
“I don’t want you to waste a drop of my seed darling,” he said against my neck.
“I want to have a part of myself with you always.”
I clenched around his cock inside me.
“I need to fill you up, keep you nice and filled with my offspring.”
I thought I was going to cum again just from his words,
“Yes please,” I moaned back in response.
I felt his hands thread through my hair as he smiled down at me. Eyes gleaming dangerously back at me, betraying his gentle touch.
“Zhongli, if you keep this up neither of us will get back to sleep.” I scolded.
He only hummed in response and rolled us over in the bed.
“We will continue in the morning then my love.”
His arm once again wove itself around me, familiar and secure, nothing could ever hurt me in his grip. I sighed in content, snuggling back into him
“I love you darling,”
“I love you too Zhongli.”
The sun lay fully in the sky now and bathed us in her warmth. This was my home; he was my home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
reprised over a year later god save us all
#zhongli x reader#gender neutral y/n#genshin smut#genshin fluff#morax x reader#morax smut#zhongli x gn reader#morax x gn reader#genshin x you#genshin fanfic
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
♡ How They React To Their Naive Darling Crying And Saying They're Mean ♡
♡ The City Version ♡
It felt a bit silly to say that to her. Of course she was mean and cruel. She was tyrannical at times, it was how she had won the throne. Still you were her little maid and thus she felt the need to reassure you. You were so easy to reassure, so willing to believe any explanation she gave for her unruly behavior.
"Darling, I must apologize that you had to see that... display. Will you please come with me? I had to hurt them, they were really bad people, still I feel ashamed that you witnessed it. I'll make it up to you tonight."
And of course you being her poor gullible maid, you took her hand and let her lead you away from the scene of the crime. Their torture could always wait another day.
"Baby, that's news to you?" She chuckled and threw her arm over your shoulder. If it weren't for the amount of pressure she was putting on you, you wouldn't even know that she was mad. You could barely stop your legs from buckling but you didn't want to show weakness in front of her.
It was bad enough that you'd cried and broke down in front of her already, you couldn't give her more ammunition. It was like she took special pleasure in taunting you, especially when you constantly refused her advances because you knew how cruel she could be.
"You know things don't have to be like this." She gripped your chin harshly forcing you to look in her eyes. "I could be very kind to you, you just need to do something for me first, baby."
Her sword clattered to the ground. She'd tried her best to be your perfect sweet knight but it seems her sadist tendencies had managed to slip through the cracks. It was unfortunate. Your naive nature made you so easy to train, she really hoped she wouldn't have to train you again.
The next training would require much harsher methods. She didn't think that would be necessary though as she saw your teary face. Her poor sweetheart was always so sensitive, she'd make sure to take you out to calm you afterwards, so long as you obeyed her.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry you're in a foul mood today but you can't take it out on me. I'm your loyal knight, haven't I always taken care of you? Just let me finish training and I'll comfort you like I always have."
Yeah she's immediately out of sight. She can't look at you when you're crying and calling her mean. She can't have her mate think of her that way too. She'd probably return later after her temper had cooled down.
She wanted to scream almost but she couldn't risk you following her and seeing her violent outburst. She'd keep her distance for at least a month, just subtly giving you gifts from afar until it seemed like you were okay with her approaching again.
"I-I'm sorry you feel that way, dearest. I'll let you have your space for now, I'm so sorry." If she were in dragon form her tail would likely be tucked in.
"Awww baby girl, I know you don't mean that." She giggled not turning away from her work meanwhile you couldn't leave her tower due to the magic anklet she forced you to always wear.
"It's true, I hate you and you're cruel!" Tears trickled down your face as she sat solemnly on the floor after begging her to let you leave the tower for almost an hour at this point. You couldn't understand why she was isolating you like this.
"It's not true." Her tone was sharp, telling you not to say such nonsense to her again, very effective in shutting you up. "You just need my attention,, but you have to understand I'm working on something that is important for both of us right now."
#yandere oc#yandere lesbian#yandere x reader#yandere asks#yandere x y/n#yandere scenarios#my oc abigail#my oc theanna#my oc ainsley#my oc veronia#my oc elisha
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay guys intro timeee!! (Mostly abt shifting)
Under the cut bcuz it’s maybe a lot
Names kan or chalk i don’t really mind either way ‼️‼️
I’m in hs 😲😲
I’ve shifted before, and the drs that I’m shifting to include resident evil 2 & 4… and 1… and 3…and death island…. Okay so most of the resident evil franchise ‼️ I’m also shifting to spider verse, genshin, honkai, potentially helluva boss/ hazbin hotel??? Horimiya, solitaire, project sekai, and maybe the mcu… and a fame dr hehe
Also idgaf if we share s/o’s!! (In a good way tho like I’m not gonna be mad at u I’d love to talk to someone that I share an s/o w) (im mostly talking abt love interests that I’m just flirting w and allat tho I only really have a s/o in re4 and in my fame dr) but
S/os in other realities include
Resident evil- Leon Kennedy, (and before re4 also Jill and Ada 💀 and Claire)
Spider verse- custom s/o in spiderverse so don’t worry abt that,
Genshin- like everyone (BUT THE KIDS OFC) in specific tho tartaglia, kaveh, ganyu, Hu Tao and kazuha
Honkai- also everyone (also excluding children I am not a pedo I promise) specifically gepard, bronya, seele, kafka, and Stelle !!!
Helluva boss/hazbin hotel- ………… 💀 best I’d do is Charlie
Fame dr: Chris sturniolo (1) and a certain breadtube political commentator on YouTube I will not say (2)
Project sekai- An, Rin, tsukasa!!
Horimiya, solitaire, mcu- N/A
Besides s/o’s…. I’m also anti shiftok despite having a shiftok account LMAOO 💀 but I mean that in a way where it’s like “I don’t trust shiftok” bcuz who does 😭 I think everything I’ve got from there has limited me in my shifting journey I fear 😭 I believe in not needing a method, going with what feels right… basically all the basic good stuff
ALSO WAIT I FORGOT please let me know if u wanna be moots/ asks are open :)) and basic dni criteria pls and thank u!!
#desired reality#shiftblr#shiftinconsciousness#quantum jumping#reality shift#shifting#shifting realities#chronic
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
I need to be honest with you guys. Like just in general.
If I am having to spend over three hours making a post because someone that supports endos makes you change your mind and I'm not even HALFWAY THROUGH THE FRIST LINK, I am so tempted to just... not post it.
I have spent an hour repeating that a dissociative barrier is a protection method for your brain to not deal with a traumatic memory.
This post doesn't even talk about endogenics anymore.
It talks about using a CLINICAL MODEL IN A NON-CLINCAL SETTING and, let me say now, you can't always trust people to contact the people that made a fucking model.
When does a psychologist doing research have time to start commenting that a clinical model out of a clinical setting is funny.
Common sense, please. Please, read the entire post. I am literally having to make this entire thing into parts because I DON'T EVEN WANT TO READ THIS
If you read a post made by a pro-endo and it makes you question, just shoo. Scurry on. I've dedicated my time to this but holy shit does this just make me stay in an area I was already in.
I'm even trying to find sources to back up my claims, my friend.
I have lost all English ability and I can't. I cannot deal with this.
These sound like conspiracy theories talking about "are we really conscious or do we need trauma to have a consciousness" LIKE WHAT
I'm not trying to make fun of anybody but dear lord that I don't even believe in. I'm taking a break to gain some mental clarity.
I'm not mad at you, Anon. I find this kinda hilarious, but hooo boy.
#anti endo#did system#osddid#plurality#system#traumagenic system#endos not for you#endos dni#actually did#actually traumagenic#anon i love you but please my friend#i feel like i'm on a wild goose chase and the goose doesn't exist#the finish line isn't even close
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
What if in first year au they were play fighting and tickling each other but then they broke something (I NEED THEM TO BE CHAOTIC FIRST YEARS PLS)
“Jamil, hey- stop it! Hey- it’s not funny-!” Azul wheezed out, laughs making his words far less effective at trying to actually get Jamil to stop tickling him, “please!- come onnnn- have mercy!”
He did decide to have mercy on him, ceasing his movements for a moment, which was a poor decision on Jamil’s part, because Azul took the opportunity to push him onto his side instead.
Both of them continued to play-fight, abusing Azul’s brand new housewarden room privileges for all it was worth.
Which includes the many, many sleepovers. Really, Azul would love to stay over at Scarabia, but as he had learned, Jamil’s roommates did not like him that much. Jamil had said it was because they seemed jealous of the fact that Jamil had gotten a boyfriend faster than anyone had ever expected, but Azul couldn’t believe that was the only reason. He’d seen how they’d watched him in class… he had his theories. (So did the twins, but they’d always been more wild with their ideas)
”I cant believe you- betrayal of the highest order.” Jamil deadpanned at him, not making much of an effort to sit back up, but gladly pulling Azul down on top of him.
“you’re the one who pulled out the tickling card. I can’t believe you. I didn’t even know that was a thing!”
“What, you don’t have tickling underwater?” Jamil questioned, turning his head towards the Oceanside window.
“No! You land-dwellers are so weird.” Azul finished, sitting up on the side of his bed, “I can’t believe half of the things you guys say.”
Jamil shoved him, playful and noncommittal. “Really? Like what?”
“Like gym! One of your whole class periods is taken up by torture??” He laughed out, exasperated.
“Gym is not ‘torture’, Azul.”
“Yes it is! You’re telling me it’s a requirement to go run around in sweaty clothes for an hour then go back inside, change, and just… go around school like that for the rest of the day?!” Azul’s hands came up to lightly slap him back.
”it’s only torture to you,” Jamil retorted, shoving him onto his back for effect, “not my fault you’re weak.”
Azul stays on his back for a moment, turning his head to look at Jamil for a moment. He’d always thought Jamil’s face was so pretty, full of sharp angles and ‘mean’ features that made his heart swirl. Too bad he had a fight to win.
He swung his other arm behind him, grabbing a pillow before smacking it right across Jamil’s face. Jamil’s face split into a wide grin as he lunged for the pillow in Azul’s hand. They stumbled around for a moment, fighting for control over a pillow as if their weren’t three others on his bed.
The kept fighting, with no real malice behind it, until a pouch crash echoed through the room. Azul’s bottle of ink was spilled across the floor, knocked over from Azul’s legs.
They both scrambled up, Azul blurting out a quick “I’ll get a towel-“ before running off to his bathroom.
“why was your ink pot on your nightstand??” Jamil let out, exasperated as he caught the towel Azul threw at him.
“I was working on a contract last night-“
“in bed?!?”
“Don’t question my methods!”
“This was bound to happen!” He shoved the towel onto the spill.
Azul kneeled down next to him, pulling in Jamil for a quick kiss before sweeping up the glass, “there, do you forgive me now?”
“I’m not mad, ‘Zul, I just don’t think you need to be working so late you’re still writing in bed.”
“…okay,” Azul sighed. He had been working late lately, maybe he should relax a bit more.
He glanced up at the boy next to him. Yeah, maybe he should.
#Jamiazu#azujami#twst#twisted wonderland#jamil viper#azul ashengrotto#All of Azul’s theories abt Jamil’s roommates are wrong btw#Like two of them actually had a crush on him and are very peeved that Jamil got him that quickly#Listen Azul is very pretty you can’t tell me he doesn’t have some admirers#So does Jamil but Azul actually notices those#But AUGH they’re my sillies#Hopefully you don’t mind the full on Drabble response but I felt it’d give the best like response#They’re menaces together in class though#Jamil and Azul are already terrifying#But them with first year shenanigans? Amazing and horrifying
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
An Ash Morgenstern Ramble: Brought To You By Me.
As of late I’ve been really pondering Ash Morgenstern’s character and why it is that his character seems so unpredictable. Don’t get me wrong, I love how complex his character seems — and, inevitably, how complex his character is going to be — but I kept thinking, surely there has to be a method to his madness, right? No, he isn’t just jumping ships Willy-nilly for the hell of it.
My theory is, and it’s going to sound really obvious, but hear me out: Ash Morgenstern does what will best benefit him, and him alone.
He is a strategist at heart, having learnt from some of the most malevolent, dagger-sharp minds of his family. Whilst it doesn’t look like it at first, Ash has ulterior motives for everything he does. Why did he kill Thule!Sebastian to save Emma from imminent danger? Because he had spent enough time in Thule to know it was a dying land. We can see in many scenes in QOAAD that he has a clear disdain for both his father and his ways of life, so naturally he would want out asap — if that means killing his Father to hitch a ride home, then so be it.
Another example is Ash’s bizarre relationship with Janus. We know that J-man is quite possibly the most significant father figure Ash has had in his life, but we also know that Ash is tired of being a bird in a cage, so to speak. Janus is keeping him in this cage as per the Queen’s orders. So, whilst Ash seems to be fully onboard with Janus’s intent to, you know, destroy the nephilim race as we know it — and continually denies any emotional attachment to Dru in the process (which nobody actually believes, by the way) — I’m frankly not sure that this is something Ash, himself, wants. I mean, his desire to see the fall of the nephilim in the normal world directly contrasts with his obvious disdain and boredom in Thule.
I think Ash is agreeing with his plans purely to please him. To build trust, even. If Ash can convince Janus that he is loyal and trustworthy enough, Janus might give him what he wants: freedom. He wants to see the world beyond Faerie. He wants to see the mortal realms. He wants to be where the people are (okay, Ariel.) He wants to see Drusilla again. Playing into Janus’s hand will give him that, though it may take a long time.
And honestly, I think Ash doing what will best benefit him at this point in time makes complete sense, because really, who has ever looked out for him? Who has ever considered what he wanted? The Seelie Queen probably only wanted him back because she was his to keep. Both the Unseelie King and Thule!Sebastian wanted to make him into a Weapon in two different ways — and, well, whilst Janus only wants to protect him, he obviously wants him to have a hand in bringing harm to the nephilim, which requires him to have him locked away from everyone. The only people who ever wanted to look out for Ash and what he wanted were compelled to do so by the enchantments put upon him.
Ash has to look after himself, because otherwise no one will — and when Dru comes into his life, protecting her will become a part of protecting him.
#I haven’t read TDA in like years#so I may be forgetting some important details#I could also be completely wrong#but one of my favourite things to do is theorise over complex character motives#I’m also Ash Morgenstern brainrot at the moment#so that’s fun#the wicked powers#the shadowhunter chronicles#ash morgenstern#janus herondale#the dark artifices#twp#dru blackthorn#dru x ash#morgenthorn#ashsilla#tsc
88 notes
·
View notes
Note
Animal cafe gives everyone all the authority to finally say “COME GET YOUR DOG” while you sit in all your “it don’t bite” glory
While walking to the Cafe for your next shift, you're stopped by a strange man right before you can open the door. He sports a lopsided grin and a business card in hand.
"Hello there! I suppose you're a worker at this fine establishment?"
You give a slow nod, showing him your name tag. "Yes, that's correct."
"I knew I was talking to the right person! Your name gets thrown around alot in there doesn't it? Really made a place for yourself here - but it's so small isn't it?"
"What are you trying to say?"
The man's smile grows. "Oh not much, just that I tried to buy this little place. Move it uptown and get it the attention it needs, but the owners didn't want to sell. I decided to say what the heck and start my own business with you as my first hire. It'll definitely turn heads when their best employee leaves - not to mention the pay raise."
"Not interested." You reach the door handle behind you.
The man's smile finally breaks. He reaches for your arm. "Hey now- we aren't done talk....ing..."
His grasp falls short as he stares at the glass behind you; face turned pale. The door opens, but not of your own volition; your back falling into the broad chest of a growling third party. You can feel the force of their snarl all the way through your teeth as they wrap an arm around you. They turn so that they can push you inside the store as their amber eyes lock with yours.
"Bear! It's been so long since you came by!"
Bear snorts; your attention the last of his focus as he looks back at the man. The wolf hybrid stands to full height, easily swamping both him and you in statuere. He bares his teeth at the quivering man who laughs nervously.
"Uh.. h-h-hello, your name is Bear I assume."
"Scout."
"Scout... R-right... Well anyway, Mr.Scout, I was just talking to your acquaintance about- Ah!"
Bear snaps at the man, making him yelp in fear. "They're not interested."
"Yes, I saw that, but I just-" The man peaks around at you. "Please do something about him - I believe he might bite me."
You offer a small smile. "He doesn't bite."
Bear lowers his voice as he leans in closer to the man, running his tongue over his fangs with a grin. "Wanna bet?"
The man sprints off after that. You're a little peeved by his methods, but if it gets the job done - then it gets the job done.
You reach up and scratch him by the base of his neck; the hounds hard exterior cracking with each motion. His tail wags as he turns back to you, rubbing his cheek against your palm.
"Was.. that alright?"
"Little mean, but I'm not mad."
He lowers his head. "Am.. I still a good boy?"
You chuckle. "The best! You're getting a nice steak on the house today."
Bear hums in approval; picking you up and carrying you inside so you can begin another shift at the owner Cafe.
#Cafe tag#yandere oc#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere headcanons#male yandere#yandere insert#yandere x you#yandere blurb#yandere drabble#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yandere teratophilia#yandere monster#tw yandere#soft yandere
760 notes
·
View notes
Text
When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 10: What Keeps You Up at Night
Summary: When Loki’s nightmares keep him awake, he discovers he might not be the only insomniac around.
Author's Notes: This chapter has a song-within-a-song/bonus song/song-ception (get it, like Inception, but with songs? Okay, I’ll see myself out). My parents listened to the vinyl record of James Taylor Live ALL THE TIME when I was a little kid (and that was when records were the norm - cassettes were considered “the hip new thing” lmao) and I fell in love with the live version of Sweet Baby James. The original recording just feels so stiff and rigid in comparison.
Anyways, even if you don’t normally listen to the accompanying songs, I’d really recommend it for this chapter - Ghosts is actually a really soft, dreamy track, and Sweet Baby James is a delightful lullaby.
If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog and reblogs really help me out <3
Content Warnings: None?
Word Count: 4,890
Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist
Song: Ghosts - Lydia
Bonus Track: Sweet Baby James (Live) - James Taylor
I saw Jesus on your back, he's starting to scream
He's screaming no, oh, oh no, you've got to believe me
So I whispered softly
I got this girl here by my side, what else do I need?
You got your wars up in their minds so they can hardly see
But I'll be singing for free…
Nightmares plagued the Avengers.
Between the nature of their work and the baggage they brought to their roles, it was practically a prerequisite to suffer from nightmares.
And yet, for all the brains and knowledge among them, no one had devised a method to get rid of the damned things.
Loki tossed and turned in bed. The mad titan haunting his sleep wasn’t new, but for some reason it left his mind racing in a way he wasn’t used to. He was restless - stretching his legs out and contracting into a ball and twisting every which way in hopes of finding a tolerable position for sleeping. And yet, he could not find anything remotely comfortable.
Eventually, insomnia claimed its victory, and Loki accepted defeat. Uninterested in dwelling on his night terrors, Loki climbed out of bed; if nothing else, perhaps a change of scenery might calm his racing mind. Regardless, it was preferable to remaining in his quarters like a caged beast.
Loki stalked down the hall with a book in hand; in the dark, only the rustle of fabric as Loki’s clothes brushed together with each step filled the air. It wasn’t until he rounded the corner that he detected any sign of life - delicate, soft chords from a piano, coming from another room. Before he realized it, Loki followed the sound, each chord growing louder as he approached a door. When he was only a few steps from the door, he heard a lilting, floating voice dance above the music, though the melody sung was unfamiliar.
Despite the dark, Loki recognized his location - it was the entrance to Theo’s quarters. He stopped in front of the door to listen. Was it truly Theo performing, or was the music just recorded? The pitches and rhythms were far more precise than one typically heard with live music, and even without understanding the words, emotion poured out from each note. It seemed too perfect to be live, but something about the way the sounds echoed from beneath the door maintained a special sort of quality that could not be captured with Midgardian recording technology. Was this a recording, or was this what she sounded like when she performed?
For a moment, Loki debated whether or not to investigate. Would it be appropriate to knock on the door and satisfy his curiosity, or should he continue on his way, perhaps asking about what he heard at a later time?
However, barely a moment passed before he went from pondering the appropriateness of knocking to debating if he was even capable of social interaction. There had been too many nightmares and sleepless nights as of late, and he knew too well that the approaching anniversary of the Battle of New York likely was at the source. When exhaustion wore him down, he had a tendency to be rather irascible; pressing that upon someone else would be cruel.
Immersed in the jumbled mass of thoughts, Loki was so distracted that he did not notice the sudden absence of piano, or the footsteps approaching.
At the sudden movement of the door swinging open, Loki startled. Across its threshold, Theo offered an inquisitive look.
“I thought I sensed your magic.” Theo offered a quick, sheepish smile before glancing down the darkened halls. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry - I can be quieter.”
“No… I couldn’t sleep,” Loki admitted, keeping his voice low. “I heard something coming from your quarters while on my way to the sitting room to read. I was debating whether to investigate the source.”
“Ah,” Theo nodded, then pursed her lips. “Do you want to come in? It looks like you were going to go read on your own, but, uh, sometimes company can be nice when you can’t sleep.” She stepped a bit further into the hall, still watching Loki.
Loki paused for a moment, unsure of whether to accept her offer. If she was inviting him to join, she likely had no intention of seeking out sleep herself. He might be expected to carry on a conversation. With how tired he was and the tempest in his mind, the risk of his shortened temper rearing its ugly head was high enough that he wondered if entering would put the tentative friendship they struck up at risk.
“We don’t have to talk - you can read your book and I’ll go back to playing piano–” Theo stammered, her eyes widening as she spoke. “– Or you don’t have to come in. Sometimes people like to be alone. No pressure.”
Ultimately, the friendly, nervous look she held was enough to draw him in.
Attempting to give the impression that he was not taken aback by her offer, he simply shrugged and nodded, then allowed Theo to lead him into her quarters.
Each team member’s quarters provided a unique snapshot into who they were, and Theo’s quarters were no exception. Stepping inside, Loki took the opportunity to soak in every detail. What he found was a far cry from what he expected – in fact, it seemed to be a sharp departure from how she presented herself around other people whatsoever.
Soft, golden light bathed the room, creating a relaxing ambiance. Notes of vanilla and something spiced filled the air, likely from the assortment of candles strewn about the room.
In one corner of the sitting room stood an upright piano, with sheet music scattered across the top and stacked next to the piano bench. Perched atop the piano was a turquoise vase full of sunflowers - the combination seemed familiar to Loki, although he couldn’t quite place it. Next to her window, a drawing table sat covered in sketch pads, paint tubes, paint supplies, and pencils, while an easel sat to the left with what appeared to be a first layer of paint.
Along one wall, a trio of guitars hung; below the guitar trio, there were shelves with assorted cases, stands with instruments, and assorted microphones, as well as crates of records and a record player. Her shelves were jammed full of books that had post-it notes marking pages. Loki couldn’t help but smile at the sight of a book open on the coffee table, pages filled with notes scrawled in the margins.
Unlike her wardrobe, her space burst at the seams with rich, vivid color - a deep teal sofa sat in the center of the room atop a burgundy Turkish rug, while bright paintings adorning the saffron yellow walls. Throughout the room, wildflowers in vases decorated various surfaces, while lush plants hung from the ceiling by elaborately knotted macrame hangers. Draped across the sofa was a thick, plush, forest green blanket, while a rust orange throw pillow sat in the corner; based on their position, it looked like Theo spent most of her time sleeping on the sofa.
Loki picked up the pillow and raised an eyebrow at Theo.
“What? It’s a comfy couch for naps.” She shrugged before turning away from and sitting down at the piano bench. Loki set the pillow aside before taking a seat of his own, stretching his legs out and opening his book.
“Your quarters are very… vibrant.” Loki observed.
“You sound surprised.” Theo chuckled, turning to give him a bright smile - something he hadn’t seen much of. Many clever, wry, and playful smiles - but not one that was bright.
“I simply wasn’t expecting quite so much color.” He shrugged, allowing his eyes another tour of the space.
“I think I have enough color in here to make up for the rest of the tower’s lack of color.” Theo laughed, spinning around on the piano bench to face him. “I wanted a place that would make me feel happy. So when I was told I could design my own suite, I tried to think of things that would lift my spirits - and well, it’s hard to be sad when you’re surrounded by rich colors and things that feel cozy.”
“How did you decide what elements to include?”
“I tried to think of good memories.” She gave a shy smile, pointing to the plants. “My roommate in college was a huge plant person - had dozens of plants in our cramped dorm room. I loved my high school art classes, which introduced me to my favorite painter, so I tried to pick colors that he would use in his paintings.”
“And who is your favorite painter?”
“Van Gogh.” Theo smiled, pointing at a book on the coffee table. “Post-impressionist. He’s amazing.”
Loki nodded, continuing to absorb the room around him.
“I see…” Loki trailed off. “Well, it certainly is a cozy space.”
Theo beamed. “It’s my little oasis.”
After a beat, Theo spun back to the piano, leaving Loki to read. Even without discussion, the discord that plagued Loki was long forgotten, instead replaced with a sense of peace that felt almost foreign. Frankly, there weren’t many places that Loki could think of that felt quite so comfortable.
Eventually, his attention fell to a pair of curtains. While each Avenger’s quarters was unique, they all shared a similar layout, which meant Loki knew where all the doors and windows were located; there should not have been any doors or windows where the curtains fell.
“What is behind those curtains?”
Theo stopped playing for a moment and glanced over her shoulder.
“The secrets of the universe.” She shrugged casually, her nonchalant tone a pleasant change from her usual wariness. “Jokes aside, it’s a portal to my grandma’s farm. She lives far enough away that even taking an airplane to visit her would take a full day, and she needs a lot of help keeping up the place. Keeping a portal like this makes it easy to go back and forth between places quickly, especially if there’s an emergency.”
Once she resumed playing, it wasn’t long before Loki’s eyes began to droop. Meanwhile, Theo’s fingers danced across the keys; after a little while, Loki caught her singing softly.
“Now the first of December was covered with snow / yes and so was the turnpike between Stockbridge and Boston / now the Berkshires seemed dreamlike on account of bad frosting / with ten miles behind me, and ten thousand more to go, you know…”
She played with such tenderness, each note tumbling from the piano with delicacy as her voice floated through the air. Listening to her play felt like he was being let in on some kind secret – he didn’t even need to listen to the words to get a sense of what the songs were meant to be about.
“There’s a song that they sing when they take to the highway / a song that they sing when they take to the sea / a song that they sing of their home in the sky / maybe you can believe it, if it helps you to sleep / but singing seems to work fine for me…”
Despite his best attempts to stay awake, he began to slide down to lay on the couch as he read. It wasn’t long before Loki’s eyes fluttered close, resting his book on his chest. He told himself that he was just taking a moment to soak in the music. After all, Theo was incredibly talented, and the music was far more effective at soothing his weary mind than reading.
“So goodnight all you moonlight ladies / and rockabye sweet baby James / deep greens and blues for the colors I choose / won’t you let me go down in my dreams / and rockabye sweet baby James…”
He may not have been ready to sleep, but for once sleep won him over.
I just followed the birds right to the coast
Hoping she would follow my footsteps like some kind of ghost
Whispering close
We're not here for long, let's live for this week
‘Cause I'm so goddamn sick of losing my sleep
Yeah, she'll be my defeat
There was an Asgardian prince out cold on Theo’s couch.
The realization seemed almost absurd - Theo nearly laughed aloud when she considered the situation in that way. Most of her life seemed absurd, to be fair, but this was one of the absurd moments that seemed almost funny.
In a less absurd sense, her friend crashed on her couch.
It was nowhere near a surprise to find Loki lurking about the halls late at night - given the number of times they hung out after Theo finished work, Theo kind of assumed Loki was a night owl. But something about the bags that hung beneath his eyes and the hint of tension wound up in his shoulders gave Theo the sense that Loki’s nocturnal tendencies weren’t exactly his preference.
That was to say, Theo suspected that Loki had nightmares.
Nightmares were a phenomenon Theo intimately understood. Beyond experiencing more than her fair share of them, she learned about the neurological and psychological processes behind them as a student. Sometimes it was comforting to think about nightmares in a clinical sense - having an explanation that removed the emotion from the experience made it easier for Theo to distance herself from what waking up in a complete disarray actually felt like.
Silently rising to her feet, Theo carefully retrieved the book from Loki’s chest, jotting a quick note on a piece of paper before using the note to mark the page. With the book deposited safely on her coffee table, she covered Loki with the blanket that sage left draped on the couch. Loki didn’t look like he was going anywhere, so it seemed like the polite thing to do. She stole a glance at his face, but found her gaze lingering. Inky black curls spread on the velvet pillow, porcelain skin that held no tension, the perfect pout of slightly open lips - it was something out of a renaissance painting.
If it hadn’t been weird, she’d have taken a picture so she could try and paint it later, but he was, at best, a friend - the request would have certainly creeped him out.
A quiet snore interrupted the thought.
Yes, the prince was definitely out cold.
With a quiet sigh, Theo returned to her seat and resumed playing. She let her fingers dance along the keys, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as she tried to steady herself.
She wasn’t sure where the impulse came from to invite him in, but once the offer tumbled from her mouth she knew there was no turning back. Really, she was lucky he fell asleep so fast, because she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to have a conversation. A gnawing, frenetic energy had been collecting in her chest ever since she moved into the tower, and trying to explain it would have been a nightmare in itself.
After three nights of waking up in a cold sweat, heart pounding in her chest and gasping for air, Theo’s solution was simply to avoid sleep.
Was it healthy? Absolutely not. Would it come back to bite her in the ass later on? Of course it would. But for the time being, it was better than the alternative.
She had, at one point, debated using the portal to go home - sit out on the dock, stare at the Michigan skies. But that carried the risk of running into Max or Mémère, and they would immediately know what she was trying to do. Max would remind her that she was a doctor and she knew better, that she had to take care of herself and practice what she preached, all in a tone that danced between exasperated and condescending. Mémère would take a different approach - she would try to inquire about what the nightmares were about, try to make sense of them. The woman was a seer, so it was inevitable that she’d try to divine something from the nightmares.
Theo regularly tried to remind Mémère that seeing and divination were not powers she inherited, but oftentimes Mémère would offer a coy smirk and say something that would make Theo try to divert the conversation.
She certainly had a knack for making Theo squirm.
The first hints of sherbet in the sky came far too quickly for Theo’s liking. It wouldn’t be long before the rest of the world came to life, and she’d have to tamp down her anxieties for a bit longer.
In the meantime, maybe she’d finally make use of her balcony for her morning coffee, and for once try to actually enjoy the sun coming up.
Either way, she needed to figure out what to do so things wouldn’t be awkward in the morning.
‘Cause when I'm dead and I'm gone, Just burn me up to the sun
I've got a couple more years here, I want nothing but you, dear
When I stare at the ceiling at 5 o'clock in the morning
I got one thing that's on my mind - got so much to do before we die
Yeah if I survive
So live it up, kid, live it real good, As you should
We both know, could be gone tomorrow
So tell me what keeps you up at night,
Keeps you from closing your eyes
Keeps you alive
Rich, golden light that bathed the room greeted Loki when he awoke. The first thought that came to mind was that he was not in his quarters; after a moment, the events of the previous night returned to his memory - Theo inviting him in, listening to her play the piano as he read… and then nothing. He must have dozed off while reading.
Despite how the first half of the evening played out, Loki awoke feeling as though he’d slept peacefully through the night, with no nightmares, no tossing and turning - nothing. Just peaceful sleep. Frankly, he couldn’t remember the last time he slept so well.
Loki glanced down to find the plush blanket that originally sat on the back of the sofa now covered him, and it appeared to have been tucked in, as if Theo covered him before she went to bed.
The concept brought an odd warmth to Loki’s chest.
Without any distraction, Loki used the opportunity to reexamine his surroundings. In the light of day, Theo’s quarters burst with even more life; it was as if the sun magnified new details in the elements which Theo pointed out to him the night before. The half-finished paintings in the corner shared stylistic elements with her favorite artist. Between the scattering of music, note-filled novels, the mismatched assortment of plants, and surfaces cluttered with odds and ends, there lived a certain sense of homeliness that seemed intentional in how it countered the often sterile, cold nature of the hospitals in which Theo worked and of Avengers Tower.
On the coffee table, Loki spotted the book he fell asleep reading, appearing perfectly at home amidst the assortment of items covering the table. Amidst the pages, he found a note jotted on a piece of paper and stuck between the pages as a bookmark:
“See? Comfy couch. :)”
Beside the book, he noticed another note.
“I’m on the balcony with two cups of coffee. One’s for you if you want it.”
Loki took the second note as an invitation. Once he folded the blanket and draped it neatly over the back of the couch, he made his way over to the balcony door and slid the glass to the side.
A plethora of plants, as well as a bistro table and two chairs, adorned the balcony; the contrast of the greenery to the concrete of the city felt lush, a true oasis amidst the urban environment.
Sure enough, Theo sat there, two mugs of steaming coffee on the bistro table. She hunched over the table writing in some kind of book, oblivious to Loki’s arrival.
He cleared his throat. “Good morning.”
Theo’s head shot up to find Loki standing there, watching her work.
“Oh! Good morning…” She smiled at him. “Sleep well?”
Loki nodded, stepping out into the morning sun. “Well enough.”
“You were out like a light,” Theo chuckled, a grin curling over her lips as her eyes sparkled. “Even snored a little-”
“Lies and slander.” Loki cut her off, trying to avoid the hint of a smile that was twitching at his lips.
“You did!” Theo exclaimed, now outright laughing. “You even had a little drool right there.” She pointed to the corner of her lip, winking at Loki.
Loki rolled his eyes. “I think I’d take my coffee to go, if you please.”
“Drama queen.” Theo pushed a mug towards him. “Grab a seat – it’s nice out here right now.”
Loki accepted the invite, sitting down and taking the mug from the table. Theo went back to writing in her book, occasionally pausing as she scrunched her face up in thought. Loki observed as she worked. On the page sat a grid, some parts filled in with numbers, while others were blank. Theo was filling in other numbers in some kind of a pattern – it must have been some kind of puzzle.
“Have you ever done a sudoku?” Theo didn’t even look up from what she was doing as she asked the question.
“I’m not familiar.” Loki hesitated, wondering if she might tease him for the lack of familiarity with this ‘sudoku.’
“It’s a number puzzle,” she explained, flipping to a new page and showing him a blank puzzle. “The goal is to have the numbers one through nine in each row, column, and square without having any duplicates.”
Loki hummed, studying the grid before him. “So that would be a four,” he pointed to one of the spaces; Theo filled the space in. It didn’t take long for him to have the majority of the puzzle solved - he would point to the square, tell Theo the answer, and she’d fill it in.
“You learn quickly.” Theo observed, leaning back in her seat as she wrote in the final number.
“In certain instances, I suppose I learn quickly,” Loki corrected her, “There are other puzzles that I’m still learning to solve.”
Theo certainly was a puzzle - one that Loki found himself trying to solve. Perhaps that was what drew him to her: every time he thought he figured out something about her, she’d show him something new and a layer of complexity would be added to the mix.
Theo gave him a hesitant smile, glancing back down at her puzzle book.
“You’re reading the Blind Assassin - what do you think?” Theo spoke up, apparently familiar with the novel that Loki fell asleep reading.
“So far, it’s intriguing.” Loki took a sip of coffee, allowing his attention to move to the skyline. “Have you read it before?”
“I have - once you get through it the first time, read it again - it’s amazing how much more you pick up.” She glanced up from her puzzle, setting down the pencil as she picked up her own coffee and took a drink. “Atwood is brilliant like that - spins so many subtle clues into the story and so many layers. Everyone talks about the Handmaid’s Tale, which is good, don’t get me wrong - but I’ve always enjoyed The Blind Assassin more myself.”
This tidbit of information was certainly enticing - both regarding the story, but also regarding Theo’s taste in literature.
“I look forward to finishing,” Loki glanced over at her, smiling as he dipped his chin in a nod. “I’ll certainly let you know my thoughts.”
“What’s next on your reading list?”
“I’m not certain…” Loki shrugged, stretching out a bit in the chair. “Do you have any recommendations?”
“I might, but given you’ve been around for a millennia I suspect you’ve already read everything I’ve read and then some…” Theo pointed out, which brought a wider smile to Loki’s face. “Maybe you can make some recommendations. I’m guessing you have a variety of favorites that I’ve probably never even heard of.”
“Perhaps I will make you a list.” Loki said, giving Theo a quick wink.
After a bit more back-and-forth on literature, the conversation reached a lull. The bustle of the city echoed from below, creating a quiet wash of sound between the pair. They’d reached a point where they were comfortable with silence between them, and that morning was no different. Still, there was something about the quiet of the early morning, the personal nature of the space they occupied, that felt different in a way Loki couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Even if he couldn’t explain it, he found he didn’t mind. It felt… Natural. Easy. Comfortable.
Loki caught himself studying Theo. She focused on some spot in the distance, staring off as though deep in thought. Even though she offered a warm, bright smile to him the night before and some light, playful banter when he first stepped outside, as she sat in the morning sun there was something heavier in her demeanor. There was a certain slump in her shoulders, and the bags beneath her eyes were obvious.
She hadn’t been sleeping either. What was it that kept her awake at odd hours? Was she like Loki, suffering from nightmares? Or simply unable to fall asleep?
It wasn’t the sort of question he could outright ask - she would undoubtedly shut down.
“You are quite the musician,” Loki remarked, hoping to direct the conversation in a manner where he might glean something notable regarding her nocturnal schedule. “Do you always rehearse at such late hours?”
“I’m not that good, but thanks.” Theo blushed, but kept her eyes on the horizon. “I don’t always wait until it’s that late, but things have been busy lately and it helps me unwind… I figured it was my best chance at avoiding interruptions.”
He interrupted her.
“I apologize, I did not mean to–”
“Oh no, I invited you in.” Quick to dismiss him, Theo flashed a nervous smile. “You didn’t interrupt anything.”
At surface level, it did not seem to be a lie - and yet, Loki couldn’t help but sense there was more to it than simply not wanting others to notice.
“You play quite a collection of instruments,” Loki remarked, hoping the continued conversation might distance them from the uneasiness. “Most Midgardians only play one instrument, if any. Why is that?”
One corner of Theo’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Came from a musical family.”
“You have quite a bit of musical talent,” he observed, “Am I remembering correctly that you’ve been nominated for awards for your performances?”
Theo’s expression shifted to something more pensive. She leaned forward in her seat, resting her elbows on her knees as both hands wrapped around her coffee mug.
“I was a backing musician on a pop record.” She let out a dismissive chuckle, then brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “It wasn’t my talent that got the grammy nomination. I needed some cash when I was in my residency and a friend connected me.”
She wasn’t telling the full story, but he refrained from pushing the subject; perhaps at a later date, he could revisit the matter.
“Do you play any instruments?” Theo turned the questions back to Loki, a curious glint flashing in her eyes.
“I play the violin and piano, among other instruments,” Loki answered, “All nobility of Asgard were expected to study music in some capacity. Thor was an atrocious musician, but I rather enjoyed myself, so I studied a few instruments and vocal performance.”
“Maybe sometime I can hear you?” Theo suggested, taking a sip of her coffee. “You’ve now heard me twice - first at my band’s show, and last night. Turnabout’s fair play.”
“Perhaps.” Loki conceded. It had been a considerable time since he’d entertained an audience, and starting with someone with Theo’s talent seemed like a risky proposition. “I would like to hear you play again sometime, ideally on your own.” He gave her an earnest glance. “Perhaps not in the middle of the night though…I do apologize for falling asleep on you, by the way.”
“It’s fine - we both know sleep is important, and you looked pretty tired. Besides, I may have switched to playing songs that were good for falling asleep… So if anything, that’s on me.” Theo dismissed his comment with a smile and a wink. “And who knows? Maybe the fact you were half-asleep helped me sound better.”
“No,” Loki countered, leaning forward to rest one hand on her knee before he could stop himself. “I’m quite certain you sound wonderful regardless of when you play. Besides, you deserve to have an audience who’s awake for the full performance.”
Theo stilled, tugging her lower lip between her teeth as she mulled over Loki’s request.
“Maybe if there’s another day where the rest of the team is out… maybe then.” On the surface it didn’t seem like much, but Loki knew it was as generous as it was important.
Loki beamed.
“I look forward to it.”
Love, happy, my love
Got this all in my blood
Need her close enough like ohh—
Love, happy, my love
They said it came from above
Ha, yeah that's where it's from
#loki#loki fanfiction#loki fluff#loki imagine#loki fanfic#loki slow burn#when everything's made to be broken#loki x oc#loki x ofc#wemtbb#loki odinson#loki fic#avenger! loki
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝑨𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆
ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʏᴀɴ! ᴛɪᴍ ᴅʀᴀᴋᴇ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴀʀᴇᴄʀᴏᴡ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴜɴᴜsᴜᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʜɪs ғᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏxɪɴ. ʀᴇᴅ ʀᴏʙɪɴ sᴀᴠᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴄʀᴀɴᴇs ᴄʟᴀᴡs ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇsᴛ ᴅᴇᴄɪsɪᴏɴ ʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ. ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴄʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴏʙsᴇssɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴛɪᴍ ᴅʀᴀᴋᴇ sᴇᴇs ɴᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʏᴏᴜ sᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ sᴛᴇᴀʟs ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴡᴀʏ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ sᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ʏᴏᴜ sʟᴏᴡʟʏ sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ʜɪs sɪᴅᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ʙʀᴜᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ, sᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ, ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴅᴜʙ-ᴄᴏɴ, sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴅʀᴜɢɢɪɴɢ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs
ᴘᴀʀᴛ: ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ
ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜɪs ɪs ʙᴀsᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. ɪᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs. sʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴏᴜᴛs ᴛᴏ @keira324 ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ᴀɢᴀɪɴ <3
Your throat is sore from constant screaming, your skin is pale and cold, your eyes all puffy and teary. Your body is tense, weak, you struggled against the restraints for hours after all. A man in his mid-forties, tall and lanky, hides in the shadows and watches you with a sick fascination. He shakes his head, stepping forward into the dim lit light that hangs from the middle of the ceiling. His hair is as black as coal and has a few mousey gray streaks in it, while his eyes are colored blue, offering a contrast to his dark curls.
"Something about you is different and I just can't seem to wrap my finger around it." The man confesses and leans against a rough metal pillar, his arms crossed, a piece of burlap in his left hand and a syringe filled with a green substance in his right one. His eyes are fixated on you and he doesn't dare to look away, it's like he's caught in a crossfire.
"Then again, you've always been little Miss Perfect, haven't you?" He smiles, fondly remembering your days as a university student of his.
"Please let me go." You whisper, a salty tear running down your reddened cheek. You are tired and in pain and the man in front of you is responsible for your misery.
"No. You are of important leverage to me. You are different, you took my fear toxin and resisted madness and death. I need to know what makes you special. " He explains calmly and brushes his hair out of his face with a swift motion, fixing his glasses in the process.
"Professor Crane, please, I'm begging you." He rolls his eyes and steps away from the pillar, coming closer to her. Your body is placed on a table, while you are being held down by your limbs and head, so you won't be able to run.
Professor Jonathan Crane. You always admired him. He was a wonderful professor at Gotham's University and you felt honored to be his teacher's aide in your fifth semester. Though things changed. He turned insane, his obsession with fear got the better of him and he started to experiment with patients at Arkham Asylum. His unorthodox methods got him kicked out of Gotham U and the hospital for the criminal insane, which is why he turned into a ruthless human being. He didn't want to give up his studies and worked on them illegally, killing and traumatizing hundreds of people in the process. Now you are one of his victims, one of his experiments.
You hate darkness, you hate Jonathan Crane. You trusted, yes even admired him, but he took this from you and turned it into a spiral of manipulation. He made you believe that he wasn't actually fired, that the accusations were wrong and made up by a jealous colleague. Before you were able to run, he already had you chained up in his basement. That was over a month ago and ever since then things have changed. He moved you to this old, abandoned warehouse and experimented on you with his drugs or toxins every two to three days. He told you that he would let you go when he is finished, when he knows what's wrong with you. You don't react to the toxins like others do, your body might be weakened and in pain by it, but you are otherwise very healthy. Your sanity doesn't seem to suffer either, sure there is constant fear or nightmares following you, but you handle the hallucinations well. You are different and that makes you his new project, his experiment.
"Don't beg me, I'm not your God." He places his mask made out of burlap over his boney and hollow facial features and lifts his hand with the syringe in it up. He presses the air out of it, a few green drops glide down the needle. "Well- not yet at anyways." The young woman closes her eyes, preparing for another tortures session filled with sheer panic, when all of a sudden the room is filled with darkness. Crane stops in his doing and looks up at the ceiling confused. "Hm. Lucky you, there must be another black out." He comments and lets his right hand rest on his sight, the only visible source of light is a small window that allows the moon to shine into the warehouse.
Though, something did change. You have a better understanding of your environment, sense things Crane doesn't. You hear the little noises and smells, the distant chemicals and right now you make out someone entering the hall, lurking behind your former professor. While he didn't notice anything in the beginning, he certainly did when a figure slowly walks up to him. He is ready, turning around to stab the unwelcome intruder with the long syringe in his hand, but the shadow-like figure acts faster. Crane is out cold, his unconscious body falls to the floor and hits the ground hard, syringe rolling across the dust.
You are scared, nothing new to you, but you are alone with a stranger, bound to a table and unable to move. At least you knew that Crane wouldn't hurt you in ways unimaginable to you, but with this new one you aren't sure. It's too dark to make out his silhouette. Tim Drake heard about your case in the news and the moment he had a picture of you he was in. Eagerly he searched for you daily, weekly, it was his newest obsession. Bruce of course supported the idea of finding you, after all you were the daughter of a good and honorable man, a lawyer. That and you had a bright future. Helping his old friend to find his daughter was the least he could do. His adoptive son's motivations lie elsewhere though. Tim fell in love with your case the moment he lay eyes on it. Finding you and making sure that you are safe is his highest priority and after a good few weeks he had you and now he stands there, right in front of your shaking form, watching you relieved.
"Don't be scared." He begs smoothly and pulls an electronic device from his belt, activating the lights again. There you are in all your glory, lying on a table shaking like a leaf in the wind. You look a little different, nothing like the girl on the news. Your hair tangled, your skin pale and bruised from the chains. Your lips are slightly bleeding and you seem disoriented. You flinch and close your eyes, not being used to so much light at once anymore. Crane liked it dark, which is why he never turned on all the other lights. You blink a few times and face the figure that hovers over her. You quickly notice that the man, who appears to be young, is one of Gotham's vigilantes. His hair is ink colored and cut short; his eyes hidden by a mask. "(Y/N)." You slightly yelp at the sound of your name. Slowly tears make their way out of your glassy orbs and you sob.
It's the way you press yourself against his chest, seeking his warmth and protection that makes his abdomen tingle, he never felt that way about one of his cases before. When he pushes open the metal door with a kick of his foot, flashlights welcome him back into the cold winter air, he pulls his cape over your shaking form, offering her a shield for the icy wind. That's when he realizes that weapons are being aimed at them. The moment they notice who they aim at, they let them sink, murmurs breaking through the silence.
"Are you here to save me?" You whine and rip at the leather cuffs, hurting your fragile skin even more. He smiles, helping you out of your prison. "Yes!" His voice sounds almost breathless as he helps you up, taking you into his arms. Even though he wears a full body suit he is able to feel your cold skin through its fabric. "The GCPD is waiting outside. You are safe now." He promises, sugar coating the truth. You will be safe, but only as long as Crane stays at Arkham, where he belongs. He carries you to the exit, but before that made sure to cuff Scarecrow for security reasons.
"Is she alive?" The question caught him off guard, as he turns his attention to Captain Gordon. "Of course she is." He rolls his eyes and presses you tighter against him, the fear to let go of your rising in him, it is weird to him and he cannot explain why he feels that way about you all of a sudden. "Right. Bring me some paramedics!" Gordon shouts into the others direction and places a hand on Tim's shoulder. "Thank you son. Without your help we-" Gordon starts, but the vigilante interrupts him. "No problem, Captain." Tim knows that the GCPD would not have found you without his intense help. He had restless nights, stressful days and neglected his needs for this case, for you. And he would do it again and again and - "Hey, wait-" you are being pulled from his grip, placed onto a stretcher, while the paramedics gave him a funny look. You stretch your hand into his direction, trying to speak, but your voice is too raspy, probably from crying and screaming. "Don't worry boy, you can visit her at Gotham Central any time." Captain Gordon offers with a smile, trusting him with this information. "Yes." Tim whispers and is already deep in thoughts. The way you held out your hand to him and clamped at him for dear life when he carried you out. 'It's a sign.' He thinks and softly smiles.
'She must be in love with me!' Tim concludes and already plans his next move to keep you safe and away from danger. Truth is Tim Drake believes that he is the only one who can keep you from potential harm and he will take matters into his own hands from now on.
131 notes
·
View notes
Text
Edges of the Night (Chapter 18/19)
Hello and welcome to the longest chapter I’ve ever written. I should’ve split this into two parts, but idk, here it is. I hope you have enjoyed this story, and please please please stick around for Chapter 19! I will post that tomorrow morning, as it’s fully written and edited already.
Thank you for the love and support. My daughter is doing a lot better. At the ER, they were afraid she had a concussion from taking a bad fall (tripping and hitting her head on a metal pole), but thankfully, she doesn’t. She’s totally back to normal now, but it was my first foray into the horrifying world of the bad things that can happen to your children, even if you’re just two feet away from them. Why can’t we wrap our babies in bubble wrap??
Anyways. Enjoy.
Mulder
“Mulder? It’s me.”
Shock slides down his spine like ice cubes. He unlocks the door so hastily he almost rips out the hinges.
And there she is, those blue, blue eyes peeking out from underneath a dark hood. Slowly, she draws down her mask.
Her mouth parts and for a moment, a thick silence hangs between them. And then her eyes dart away and her tongue flashes out to lick her lips. Somewhere in his foggy, flabbergasted mind, Mulder realizes she is on edge.
“I found you,” she says unnecessarily.
“You—yes,” he says with a stupefied nod, suddenly feeling very light-headed. He grips the side of the door as dizziness overcomes him, and when her small hand reaches out to curl around his bicep, he almost passes out.
“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice full of concern. She lifts his go-bag from his shoulder and places it on the floor, then gently pries his fingers from his weapon. “Are you sick, Mulder?” Her warm hand rises to touch his forehead and he blinks, trying to clear his blurry vision and make sense of this apparition standing in front of him. There’s no way this is real. There’s no way she’s real.
But her eyes lift to his and nothing—not a ghost, not a dream, not a hallucination—could replicate the warmth and familiarity and love in that stare. He shakes his head in slow amazement. Just moments ago, he believed he had doomed himself to a life that would never include her. And now . . .
She lowers her hand slowly, seeming to realize his reaction is based in shock rather than illness. Pulling back her hood, she gestures dazedly at her baggy clothes.
“I wasn’t sure if it was safe here,” she explains with a blush. “I wanted to stay incognito, just in case . . . .” Her voice trails off and she shrugs.
He nods in stunned agreement, snapping shut his mouth once he realizes it’s hanging open.
“Let me in?” she finally asks.
He moves aside robotically, watching her place their weapons together on a side table and then close the door behind her. Her movements are methodical, deliberate. She’s taking her sweet time, drawing things out. She shuffles off her boots, fixes the flyaways in her hair, and brushes away some imaginary lint on her dark sweater.
When she can’t seem to find anything else to distract her, she finally lifts her eyes to his. He balks. Now that she is over the threshold, she seems to have lost whatever warmth she arrived with. Her eyes are full of fear, and maybe . . . is that anger? His muscles tense. Something must have happened to her. She wouldn’t have come looking for me if everything was alright back home. Is she in danger? Did someone hurt her? What’s going—
“Are you mad at me?” she whispers apprehensively, interrupting his thoughts.
He blinks, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Mad?” he repeats.
She shifts uncomfortably. “Because I—because I chose you. Because I rejected the life you chose for me.”
I chose you. The words sink into his skull, slip into his brain, cement themselves on his heart.
“You . . . chose me?” His brain can’t seem to process her words and he narrows his eyes in question. “What do you mean?”
Her lips tick up just slightly at his dazed parroting. “Mulder,” she says with a shake of her head, “why do you think I’m here?”
But before he can answer, she takes a step closer to him, her eyes pinning him to the wall. “A few days ago, you told me I wasn’t allowed to choose you. That you knew better than me, and that my life should look a certain way.” Her eyes have turned steely with resolve. “But you don’t get to decide what’s best for me. Because what’s best for me—” She swallows hard, and her chin dips. When she speaks again, her voice is tightly controlled, carefully concealing her emotions. “What’s best for me is, and will always be, you.”
Silence fills the space again as he racks his brain for a proper response. But he’s just now getting used to the sensation of Dana Katherine Scully being present in his life once again, and it’s overwhelming his ability to speak.
With an exasperated sigh, she continues. “Mulder, you begged me once to choose you over Alan—”
His brain sputters to life. Faced with the realization that Scully came here not because she is in any danger but rather because she wants to be with him, he suddenly has a lot to say.
“No, Scully, no. I told you, I didn’t mean for you to choose this.” He gestures wildly at the cabin, his voice pitching higher with desperation. “I didn’t mean—I never wanted you to choose this life—”
She grits her teeth.
“Jesus Christ, Mulder, you never get it,” she huffs with a vehement shake of her head. “I choose you. You, you the person, Mulder. Whatever that means, whatever that looks like. Whether you’re on the run or running the FBI, I choose to be by your side.” She takes a big breath. “Because even when I’m furious with you, or broken-hearted, or so deeply hurt by your idiotic choices,” she says, emphasizing her words with a smack to his arm, “I am still . . . I am still in love with you.” Her anger seems to leave her body all at once. Her voice turns soft and she links their hands together. “Because I’ve never loved someone so much. Because being separated from you is a slow, unbearable death. I don’t care if we never again see the light of day, Mulder. I just want to be with you.”
Stunned into silence, tears sting at his eyes and he takes a staggering step backwards. With their hands still joined, she goes with him, until he’s sinking to the couch and she’s settling in next to him.
“You’re in shock,” she murmurs after a minute, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off his forehead.
He looks over at her, then down at their hands twisted together. He realizes he’s shaking. “But your life,” he starts to argue again, and she leans over and grips the back of his head. Her mouth is millimeters from his.
“Why can’t you understand? You are my life,” she groans.
She releases him and ducks her head, pressing her hand to her mouth as a frustrated sob escapes her. Uncertainly, he reaches for her. When she leans into his touch, he blows out a long sigh and then gathers her in his arms, tucking her face into his neck, pressing his palm to the back of her head. Her eyelashes flutter against his skin.
“When you pushed me away that first time,” she murmurs after a long time, “when you drove me away to California, I thought I’d never forgive you for doing it. Because my entire heart belonged to you back then, and it was like you—like you were still holding my heart, but you’d sent the rest of me away. And no matter how angry I was, I couldn’t rip my heart out of your possession, because it is yours.” She takes a shuddering breath in and he winds himself around her tighter. “But then when I woke up alone in that bed last week, and you were gone . . . I couldn’t believe you did that to me again. I couldn’t believe you didn’t realize, after all we’ve been through, what you are to me. You aren’t just—just some person that can fall in and out of my life. When you’re away from me, when we’re separated, I am nothing. My life means nothing.” Her nails dig into his neck. “Don’t you get that? Don’t you feel the same way?”
She pulls away and gives him a tremulous look. Her thumbs reach up to brush at his wet cheeks, and he finds he’s still unable to speak. So instead, he simply nods. It seems to be enough for her, though, because she tugs him into her, this time pressing his head to her good shoulder. She holds him to her chest, sinks her fingers into his hair and starts running them up and down, up and down, up and down.
“I won’t say I expected a warm reception from you,” she admits after a while, and he can hear the lilt in her voice that tells him she’s teasing. “But your stony silence is a bit cutting, Mulder.”
He lifts his head. “I’m trying so hard,” he says earnestly, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions—guilt, self-hatred . . . relief.
“You’re not mad, then,” she guesses correctly, and he shakes his head. “In fact, maybe you’re even glad I came,” she adds, just a bit self-righteously.
He nuzzles her cheek with his nose, breathes in the scent of her hair and skin. “Of course I’m glad, Scully. You’re the—you’re the love of my life.” A tender noise hums through her chest. “But I’m also fighting myself right now. I’m trying so hard to let myself be happy. I’m trying to accept that this is really what you want, and that I . . . that I’m allowed to be happy that what you want is me.”
Her brow creases softly and she smooths her palm over his rough cheek. “Yes, Mulder, you’re allowed to be happy,” she murmurs. “Remember, my life is mine to decide. And I choose you.”
She always seems to know exactly what he needs. Like a dam breaking, joy—unrelenting, shameless, blameless joy—surges up through his body. Doubt and disbelief and guilt lift off his chest like balloons released into the sky and he marvels as they disappear into the ether. His mouth breaks into a grin and she grins back with a wet, sputtering laugh. He slinks his arms around her waist and yanks her into his lap, dragging his hands up her torso and over her breasts and along her neck until he cups her face in his palms.
“You’re here,” he marvels, tipping up her jaw to look at this woman, the person he never thought he’d see again. “I never thought—I didn’t think—” He shakes his head and presses his lips to hers.
She melts like hot wax under his hands. Her mouth opens to him instantly and their tongues tangle together. In between breaths, her baggy jacket flies off her body, followed by her sweater underneath, and then his own jacket and shirt. He mutters a curse into her cheek when his hands brush up against her bare breasts. Her head lolls back as he cups them, thumbing her nipples until they are peaked with pleasure. Her fingernails scratch at the back of his neck as he dips his head to drag his tongue along her collarbones, then across the tops of her breasts. He licks at one nipple, then the next, and she laughs in surprise when he sucks at the underside of one breast until he’s sure to leave a mark.
“Now there’s the warm welcome I was hoping for,” she hums as he slides to his knees and yanks at her socks and pants.
He chuckles against her inner thigh and she jumps when his teeth sink lightly into her skin. He blinks up at her through his eyelashes and watches as arousal floods her gaze. Her mouth parts and he tugs her underwear down, smiling slyly as he spreads her legs. She gasps at the first contact of his mouth to her center.
Her hips jump under his light touch and he hooks his arms around her thighs to hold her in place. And after just a few minutes of attention from his tongue, she comes, hard and fast. Color floods her cheeks and she jerks her legs up to her chest, her chest heaving with satisfaction, her eyes wide with desire, her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
For a long minute, he just stares up at her from his place on the floor, shocked by the slightly dazed expression in her gaze, the hunger in her parted lips, the endearing charm of her pink cheeks.
“Wow,” he says after a minute, and her cheeks darken further. “You really do want me.”
At that, she sputters a laugh and releases her legs to him. Greedily, he runs his palms from her ankles to the tops of her thighs, giving her hips a squeeze.
“If you must know,” she says primly, reaching forward to curl a piece of his hair around her finger, “it’s been a really long time for me.”
His eyes narrow in confusion. “A long time? But what about . . . him?”
Her cheeks are as red as apples, but she holds his gaze. “We didn’t . . . do that.”
His brain immediately short-circuits. Hope and relief and a possessive sort of joy rise in his body like a balloon.
“You didn’t have sex with him?” he asks in amazement, ignoring the rational part of his brain that reminds him that at one point on their drive from California to Montana, she practically shouted at him that she was indeed having sex with her fiancé.
She tugs at his hair playfully. “Of course we did, Mulder,” she corrects, and the balloon sinks to the earth. “But we didn’t do . . . that, exactly.” He can’t help the way his lips stretch into a smug grin. “Shut up, Mulder. To answer your question, we didn’t—it just wasn’t like that with us. I didn’t—” Exasperated, she sighs. “We had sex, yes. We were together for nine months. But he—there wasn’t that spark, you know? He never made me . . . do that.”
The balloon starts to lift off the ground again. He tries to keep his voice level, calm. “Let me make sure I have all the facts here, Scully. Alan never made you come?” He’s surprised by the feral quality in his own voice.
She shakes her head slowly and he drags his fingertips up her belly, plays with the delicate line of her collarbone.
“Did you fake it?” he asks evenly.
She bites her lip. “With him, yes.”
“But not with me,” he says, and it’s not a question. He knows exactly what just happened in her body.
“Not with you.”
Her eyes are dark, flooded pools as he rises to hover over her. He pulls her arms around his neck and hooks his hands underneath her thighs, lifting her off the couch. His bare chest presses against her naked torso and his eyes close momentarily at the warm sensuousness of skin-on-skin. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard.
“Do it again?” she breathes against his cheek, tugging at his hair until he opens his eyes again. Her smile is warm, playful, a bit naughty.
He smiles back. “I plan to do that every damn day for the rest of our lives, Scully.”
**
For the first time since coming to this cabin, Mulder finds himself lying in the bed of the upstairs bedroom. Scully lies naked beside him, her skin warm and dewy, her breathing light and measured. He pushes his nose into her hair, hopes he never wakes up from this beautiful dream. Her hand moves languidly to cup his jaw, turning his mouth into hers. When they pull away, he can see the first rays of a dawning sun lighting her face. It is morning.
In the morning, he is supposed to leave for Canada.
Canada.
He sits up abruptly.
“Scully,” he says hoarsely, “in all the shock of welcoming you back into my life, I seem to have forgotten something very important.”
“Hmm?” she asks sluggishly. Her eyes are heavy with sleep. It’s charming, really, the way she’s able to drop like a fly even at crucially important times in her life.
“Wake up, sweetheart,” he whispers against her cheek, and a small smile flits across her face.
She shifts to fully face him, propping herself up on her elbow. He takes a moment to revel in her nakedness, to trace a finger between the dip of her breasts and down to her belly button. Their eyes stay locked, their gazes both heated and sated.
After a time, he slips his palm across her hip and squeezes. “You haven’t told me how you got here.”
For a moment, she stays still, watching him closely, like she’s waiting for him to guess. But then, she flops down onto her back.
“It’s a pretty good story,” she says honestly. “One that involves a few heroes.”
“Oh?” he asks, curiosity sufficiently piqued.
She nods. “When you left me in that cabin, I raised hell,” she admits without shame. He nods with a slightly satisfied grin. “But the men claimed to have no knowledge of where you were or where you went. I called bullshit on Frohike, but he maintained his position: you had vanished without a trace.”
Mulder swallows, thinking back to the way he threatened Frohike within an inch of his life. If you so much as suggest which state I’m in, I’ll come back and kill you myself. She deserves a good life. Don’t let her miss out on a good life.
“He stayed firm, huh?” he asks lightly.
Scully nods and pinches his wrist. “That bastard,” she mutters, but her tone is composed. “So I was on the beach one night,” she continues, “thinking about how much I hated Frohike, and how angry I was at you, and how if I ever saw you again, I might just have to shoot you.”
He expects her to laugh or maybe crack a joke, but her face remains solemn and serious.
She meets his gaze meaningfully. “You had no right to do that to me,” she reminds him darkly.
“May I never invoke your anger again,” he quips, and she glares. “Tell me more about those heroes,” he adds to distract her.
She eyes him warily, shifting back to face him. Her gaze dips to the sheets, where her fingers have taken up drawing a figure eight pattern on the mattress. “My anger wasn’t all I was thinking about on the beach,” she says quietly, and his heart twists. “I was thinking that maybe life wasn’t worth living anymore. Not without you.”
“Scully—”
“Just wait,” she says, holding up a hand. “But something got the better of me that night. You were gone, but you weren’t dead, and I was so sure of how you felt about me. I knew you loved me, and that gave me some . . . hope. Some hope that even if I couldn’t spend the rest of my life with you, I could at least spend the rest of my life with a purpose.”
“Which was?”
“Looking for you.”
His heart rips in half. Had he ever known that that was how she had planned to spend the precious life he thought he was giving her . . .
“I’m so sorry,” he says honestly. “The life I thought you deserved wasn’t the life you actually wanted.”
“Why can’t this be what I deserve?” she counters, touching his bare chest. “Why can’t this be the life that I’m blessed with? Why isn’t that good enough for you?”
He huffs a laugh, running his fingers over the back of her hand. “Because I’m not really the best life. I’m not—”
She shakes her head sadly. “Maybe you’ll never get it, Mulder, but I believe you are the best life for me, and that’s what matters. I believe that my life is only worth living with you at my side. Whether that life is hard or rough, whether the path we walk down together is scary or lonely . . . you are what I deserve. Because you are so good.” Her eyes turn soft. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
He blinks, breaking her gaze. “I think it might be a long time before I believe something like that.”
“Such a skeptic,” she teases with a grin. “Thank goodness we have all the time in the world ahead of us.”
A part of him wants to keep arguing about how he’ll never be good enough for her, how this life won’t satisfy her, how he won’t make her happy . . . but he can’t really argue with the light and joy he sees in her eyes.
He decides to redirect instead. “The heroes,” he prompts again.
She nods. “So, there on the beach, I decided I would go looking for you. That that would be how I lived my life.” She clears her throat, a wry smile rising to her lips. “I was facing the ocean when I made that decision. But then I turned around, and I saw him.”
He crinkles his brow. “Who?”
**
Scully
“Alan?” she asks in surprise. “What are you doing here?” The ocean breeze whips at her hair and she tucks an unruly lock behind her ear. Suddenly, she is self-conscious of her soaking wet clothes, her tear-stained face, the despair in the set of her shoulders.
Alan gestures for her to come closer and she covers the distance between them in ten steps. He is smiling at her sadly.
“I have a gift for you,” he says evenly, “and I thought I’d find you here.”
She frowns, studying him carefully. “Have you been following me?”
He shakes his head. “I really haven’t. I promise. But I do know a few things about you, and one of those things is that you come down to this beach when you need to think. I tried your apartment first, and this was the next obvious choice.”
She nods suspiciously. “Okay. What is it, then? What couldn’t wait until we saw each other next?”
He holds her gaze for a long moment, the only sound the breaking of waves behind her. She realizes, suddenly, that his eyes are full of pain. Terrible pain. The grieving kind of pain.
“Is everything alright?” she asks worriedly.
He sighs and breaks her gaze, then dips a hand into his pants pocket to pull out a plastic bag. It looks to be filled with documents. She frowns.
He presses it gently into her hands, like he’s presenting her with an offering, a sacred sacrifice. “This is my gift to you, Dana Scully,” he says tenderly. “I love you, and I have been honored to have loved you for almost a year now.” He shakes his head. “But I’m realizing that as much as you didn’t know the real me, I didn’t know the real you either.”
She bites her cheek and he reaches out his hand as if to touch her face. Seeming to think better of it, he lets his hand fall to his side.
“I didn’t know you had it in you,” he says with a shrug, “that same burning, devoted, self-sacrificial kind of love. The same kind of love I thought I had for you. I never saw you—I never felt like you matched me in emotions or intensity. And now I know why.”
Tears have gathered on her lashes and she brushes at them anxiously. He shakes his head as if to soothe her.
“It’s okay, Dana, it’s okay,” he assures her. “It’s really, really okay. Because if I’m right, and you love Mulder with the strength and intensity that I think you do, then I know you’re going to be happy. And that makes me so, so happy, because I’ve found a way to make the woman I love happy.”
She shakes her head, utterly confused.
He laughs anxiously and she suddenly realizes he is very, very nervous. “You’ve had a lot of choices taken away from you. And I’ve been watching you grieve these past few days, and I realized the best thing I could ever do to make it up to you is to give you the tools to make the choice for yourself. Of where your life goes, of what your future holds. Of who you end up with.”
Her hands start to tremble and she clutches the bag tighter.
He glances at it meaningfully. “I called Skinner, and we talked to Frohike. It took a lot of convincing. He was . . . resolute, to say the least. He feels a debt of loyalty to Mulder, and he truly believed that he was doing the best thing for you by keeping Mulder’s location a secret. Frohike loves you, Dana, but I don’t think he fully understood . . . what I understand.”
She stares down at the bag. “What is this?” she breathes.
Alan smiles. “There’s a piece of paper in there with the coordinates of a house. It’s where Mulder is living for now. Frohike assured me that he plans to be there for about a week or two before he’ll cross the border and disappear into Canada.”
Her hands are shaking so violently now that she has to reach out and clutch Alan’s arm. He steadies her.
“There’s documentation in there too for you. Frohike already prepared fake IDs for Mulder, and we asked him to do the same for you, so you can cross into Canada with him.”
She is on her knees now, her head hanging on her chest, her heart pounding so furiously she goes dizzy.
She senses Alan kneel down beside her. “And there’s a set of keys. You’ve got a car. You’re going to have to drive. Three days, at least, so you need to leave soon. I can help you pack your bags, get supplies, everything you need—”
She throws her arms around him and he freezes, then hugs her tightly to his chest. “Thank you,” is all she can manage. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
**
Mulder
In bed, Mulder’s eyes fall automatically to Scully’s left ring finger. When she notices the direction of his gaze, she tips her head to the side, as if to ask what’s wrong?
He shakes his head. “So, Alan was the good guy all along,” he murmurs. In the back of his mind, that old, familiar refrain is starting up again . . . she was better off without me.
Scully is quiet for a long moment, and then her hand comes up to trace his lips. “So were you,” she replies. “A little misguided at times, sure,” she says with a slight smile. She leans into him, brushing her nose against his cheek. “But if my life was so good back in San Diego with Alan, why do you think I’d give that all up to go into hiding?”
He starts to flush with shame and she presses a kiss to his lips. “Because you are worth it,” she reminds him. “I wouldn’t trade one moment with you for a million moments with anyone else.”
He meets her gaze and sees that she isn’t teasing him. She’s completely, deadly serious about this. “You think we can be happy, Scully? No friends, no family, no jobs?”
She shrugs as if those things aren’t important at all. “I’m a realist, Mulder, you know that.”
“You are,” he says with a nod.
“And I know we’ll have our hard days. But I also know, without a shadow of a doubt, that what I experienced when we were separated wasn’t even a close approximation of happiness.” She tugs at his hair until he’s kissing her back. “This is what makes me happy. You make me happy. And with that as our foundation, we’ll build a joyful life together. It won’t be normal or easy, but it will be right because it’s us.”
When she pulls away, he’s surprised to see that she’s grinning impishly. “What?” he asks.
“You know,” she says, her fingers coming to play at the waistband of his boxers, “you really can’t take a compliment, Mulder.”
“Hmm?” he asks, suddenly distracted by the warmth of her palm as it slips down, down, down.
“I left behind an entire life to go on the run with you,” she says easily, and if her hand weren’t stroking him just so, he would be at risk of slipping right back into a spiral of shame. “That’s got to be the highest compliment you’ve ever been paid.”
“It’s right up there with the time Alex Krycek told me he liked my red Speedo,” he jokes, and her hand tightens mischievously against him.
He lurches off the bed and she pushes him away to roll on top of him, her hips slotting against his. In the morning light, her skin gleams. She rocks slowly back and forth, her eyes pinning him to the bed when she rises to take him fully in. His breath catches as she sinks down, his hands falling naturally to her thighs. Their bodies act like they’ve done this thousands of times before; how is this only the second time?
When they are finished, he slips his arms around her and presses his chest against her back. He feels her start to fall asleep again, only to jerk awake when he moves off the bed to slip into the shower.
Her eyes lift to his in utter panic and he frowns, striding back to the bed to sit beside her. He reaches out to stroke her hair and she cups his hand with hers, stilling his movements.
“Sorry,” she says after a moment, and he cocks his head. Her chin dips slightly, hiding her expression. He taps at her cheek until she looks up at him. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little agitated when I see you slipping out of bed while I’m sleeping.”
His heart constricts painfully and he pulls her head into his naked chest. “I was just going to take a shower,” he promises quietly, rubbing her back. “And Scully?”
She lifts off him. He hesitates before speaking. “You’re right. About everything. About how I took away your agency and assumed that I knew what was best for you. I was a coward by not involving you in the decisions I made, even though I thought I was being . . .”
“The hero?” she supplies.
“I was going to say selfless,” he grumbles. “If you and I are going to do this life together, I realize things have to change. You’re my partner, in every sense of the word. From here on out, anything we do, we do together.” He presses a long kiss to her forehead and feels her relax in his arms. “I promise.”
When they pull apart, he expects to see her face limned with solemnity in light of the gravity of his promise. But instead, he’s caught off guard when he sees a naughty grin playing on her face. His eyebrows rise with interest.
“What’s that look for?” he asks suspiciously.
“You mentioned a shower?” she asks.
“. . . I did.”
“’Anything we do, we do together,’” she quotes mischievously.
Slowly, his lips creep into a wide grin, until he’s full-on beaming. “Look at you, Scully,” he says approvingly, pulling them both to standing.
Her eyes flit hungrily across his body and even so, he fights against a flicker of self-loathing. You’ll never be good enough, says the darkness inside him. But as her hands settle on his waist, her eyes lift to his, and they are full of warmth and love and honesty. Intuiting his internal dialogue, Scully lifts her palm to his cheek, her thumb brushing tenderly across his brow. For years, she has given him her unwavering trust. Even when he pushed her away, she never stopped trusting him.
It's now time for him to trust her choices, to trust what she sees in him.
“Shower?” she asks after a moment, her eyes glimmering.
He smiles.
“By all means, Scully. Together.”
#mulder x scully#the x files#dana scully#x files fanfic#txf#fox mulder#x files#msr fanfic#msr#xfiles fanfic#fox mulder my beloved
11 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
