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joelscruff · 10 months

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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART 8.5 (JOEL'S POV)

previous chapters | so after the last chapter there were SO many people who really wanted to understand joel's actions, and i thought instead of him simply explaining to reader what happened, why don't i just write a chapter entirely from his point of view instead? hopefully this answers some questions, enjoy! and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 chapter summary: you're not the only one who has a busy weekend ahead of them. one text changes the trajectory of joel's relationship with you - for better or worse. (this is essentially chapter seven and eight from joel's pov) rating: 18+ explicit warnings for this chapter: age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), innocent/inexperienced reader, discussions of child abandonment, mental health & cheating, alcohol, allusions to past sexual encounters between joel and his ex, brief flashbacks to smut from previous chapters word count: 13k ao3

He thinks about you so much more often than he should.

Your soft skin, your smile, your eyes, your hair, your little giggles, your shy and breathless whimpers.... your body, pliant and sweet beneath his touch, open and willing and waiting.

You're so perfect. You're so young.

He's never been with someone so much younger than him before. He's not sure you realize that. But that day on his doorstep when you'd wandered down the sidewalk looking like a bit of a lost puppy, that little frown line prominent between your eyebrows that he's come to adore, something clicked. You brought out a side of him he'd long since buried; he knew he had to have you. He just knew. Could feel it in the pit of his stomach when those gorgeous eyes had come to rest on him. Wide and innocent and sad. Something he saw there that made him pause.

He'd have had you that day if you'd let him, a fact that he's still grappling with. Long gone are the days where he'd meet a woman and take her home within a twenty four hour span - long gone are the days where he's so much as been interested in a woman he didn't know well enough, someone safe and secure and familiar. But he hoped you'd be back, almost knew you would, could see it in the way you shivered under his gaze, the way your eyes lingered on his face, on his fingers. He hadn't felt like being charming in a long time; he'd genuinely surprised himself with the flirtatious comments, the sly smiles, double meanings. But he couldn't help himself.

He'd wanted you so bad. The moment you'd disappeared down the street he'd gotten in the shower and fucked his fist for only a few minutes before coming all over the tiled wall at the very thought of you. He didn't even know your name but had already memorized the curves of your body, the shape of your lips, the smell of your skin when he'd gotten close enough. He'd practically limped back to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed in a heap, staring up at the ceiling with nothing but shock and confusion. Where the fuck had that come from?

He's such a dirty old man.

Old being the operative word. He turns fifty seven in a few months and the thought makes him feel physically ill. It's not that he necessarily hates the thought of getting older, of being one step closer to knocking on death's door, but more-so the fact that he's almost fifty seven and has almost nothing to show for it. His life is a mess, has been a mess for as long as he can remember.

But now... you.

You... full of life and eagerness and kindness. A soft and gentle angel in his bed, on his couch, in his kitchen. So shy and quiet, telling him what you think about, what you worry about. Letting him whisper the filthiest things in your ear while you whimper and moan, letting him touch you the way you deserve to be touched, the way you've never been touched before.

You bring something out in him he can't explain. He'd invited you inside that first day looking for a quick fuck and he admits it was a moment of weakness, the whole thing. He knows Sarah and Mish would kill him for even considering treating you that way, like an object, something to be conquered. The past version of himself who briefly felt that way about you makes him angry now.

Because now he really wants you. Not just a fuck - he wants you. He thinks about you all the fucking time and it scares the shit out of him. What started as something dirty and frivolous quickly turned into something tender and sweet the moment you told him you were a virgin, and he doesn't know how to handle it. You're so fucking lovely but so fucking sad and unsure, full of apprehension, regrets, insecurities, things he sees in himself. You remind him so much of himself at that age and he just wants to take care of you, be the person for you that he didn't have.

But you're so fucking young.

He tries to push the feelings down. He's purposely distant to you, especially during the week. You send him sweet little messages, tell him about your day, ask him about his. He stares at them for so long without answering them, and when he does answer his replies are short and vague. Because how can he say what he really wants to say? I think about you so much, angel. I want you to be mine. I don't want you to chase after any college boys or have any college boys chasin' after you. I wanna be your first and I wanna be your only.

How can he put you in that position? You're having fun, you're learning things, but there's absolutely no way you see any sort of future with him. The fact that he can already see one with you is the biggest red flag in itself - what the fuck is wrong with him?

But you're just so fucking sweet. So lovely. So gorgeous. He wants you in his bed and he wants you to stay there. He knows he'll be the first person to ever fuck you and that thought is enough to keep him going, yet he can't help but want more. But it's so selfish - you're young and bright-eyed and pretty and perfect, the promise of an incredible future ahead of you. And he's just... him.

He's old. He's grumpy. He's washed up. Became a father in high school. Got married. Got divorced. Has had more failed relationships than successful ones. Has been working the same job since he was twenty years old, a job he fucking hates. Loathes it with his entire being. Still doing the same work for the majority of his life with almost no breaks, no stops. He knows he should retire, should have done it years ago, but he's afraid.

He's always been fucking terrified of change. Earlier this year he'd moved into a new neighborhood. He'd gotten sick of the house he'd once shared with Mish, then Mish and Sarah, then just Sarah - the one she'd lived in sporadically 'til she was twenty six and finally felt financially stable enough to go out on her own. He'd stayed there about ten more years out of convenience, had another failed relationship with a woman who deserved far better than what he could give her, then finally pulled the plug and got something new for himself a few hours away, hoping it'd change his perspective. He'd picked a place with privacy, good acoustics, thought maybe he'd play his guitar more - focus on his music and slowly phase himself out of the contracting business.

But months later, he's still working it. The thought of being unemployed after working this hard his entire life, just ending up sad and alone in this new house, still not even properly furnished or decorated, makes him want to throw up. What the fuck would he do with all that free time? He's always wondered exactly how he'd spend it, how life could be enjoyable without the structure of his livelihood, but then he shakes it off and just keeps going because he knows the alternative has to be worse. But now... you.

You - who if you truly knew what a fucking failure he is, the boring bag of bones he pretends he's not when he's with you - would leave his bed and never come back.

You - who if you found out about his ex wife, his daughter, both of whom live adventurous and exciting lives while he's done nothing but stay still in the comforts of familiarity - would probably find him beyond pathetic.

You - who can do so much better.

He just knows that it can't last.

He gets the text from Sarah on Wednesday morning:

Hey Dad!! Me and Mom are doing our annual road trip, thought we'd stop down there for a bit and have a look at your new house!!

He tries not to notice the excitement of seeing his daughter being slightly dulled by the promise of being accompanied by her mother. In a way it makes him sad, because he loves Mish, has loved her since he was seventeen years old. He cares deeply about her and has always wanted nothing but the best for her, has always enjoyed her visits in the past - for more than one reason. But now...

No. He has to shake the thought away before he freaks himself out.

Kiddo!!!! That's exciting, when were you thinkin?

We'll be there by Friday afternoon!! Sorry for the short notice but we weren't sure if it'd be possible til today. We're actually trying to stick to a schedule this time believe it or not.

That's ok, you know it doesn't matter to me. Wanna see you any time. Miss you a lot.

Aw Dad I miss you too, I can't wait to see you!!! We'll text when we're getting close. Gonna check into a motel that night and we'll be leaving again the next morning, gotta stay on track.

He almost offers his guest room. Almost. But then thinks better of it.

Sounds good kiddo, see you then :)

Mish texts him later that afternoon. He'd been expecting it, knew she would want to double check that the visit was alright, but her name popping up in his notifications sends a jab of anxiety to the pit of his stomach. It's one thing for Sarah to visit on her own, but both of them together always adds a... different layer to the situation. A layer that needs addressing. A layer that he'd usually have more than a little excitement for, some anticipation - but not this time.

Sarah's got me roadtrippin again

She loves to make you suffer.

Don't I know it

He can't help but chuckle to himself, but his smile fades quickly as soon as the next message comes in:

Gonna be stopping by on Friday. You good for our usual?

He stalls.

Thought you were still with Elvis.

ALVIN. And no that's over

Sorry about that.

Like hell you are

He purposely doesn't answer her question, and she doesn't send anything else. The anxiety doesn't go away though - it spreads throughout his body until he's an absolute mess, shaky hands and ringing ears at the job site as he tries to stay focused, but ultimately fails to. His crew flits here and there around him without much direction and they end up going overtime, leading to an angry call from the boss, a call that leaves his hands clenched into fists by the time he gets to the bar with the crew. Fuck. This. Job.

He drinks too much, tries to calm himself, keep his thoughts steady. He pretends he doesn't know why he's feeling like this, pushes down all the reasons he wishes Sarah was traveling by herself this time. But deep down, he knows.

He gets a ride home with one of his buddies, limbs aching in a way that they haven't for a while. He always has days like this, days where the physical labor catches up to his aging body and reminds him that he really shouldn't be doing this job anymore, but somehow it's worse this time; the mental load from Mish's texts are giving him a discomfort he can't really describe.

He remembers only as he crosses the threshold that he promised he'd call you. Shit.

He does, but he can't remember much of what he said the next morning, only that he vented a bit. He hopes with every bone in his body that he didn't mention Mish, that his complaints focused solely on work.

Your texts that afternoon from the church bathroom prove this to be the case, and he breathes a sigh of relief when you agree to come see him that night. He knows he'll feel calm in your company, that the anxiety will ebb away in your presence.

He tries not to think about the implications of that.

God, he's fucked.

You had a horrible day.

You show up on his doorstep with tears shining in your eyes and that soft little line furrowed deep between your brows, the line he adores, wants to smooth with his thumb. He pulls you in close and breathes you in and finds that the anxiety, the worry, the uncertainty, all of it disappears in your embrace. You tell him you don't want to do anything, just want to be with him.

You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that to him.

He lays you in his bed and holds you for a while, listens as you tell him about what happened, confide in him. You tell him more about your upbringing and your family, your school years and friends, the pressure and scrutiny you've felt suffocated by your whole life. And god if you're not describing him. You have no idea how fucking similar the two of you are, how much he wants to wrap you up and protect you from the world and from all the people who threaten to dull the light in your eyes. Don't become like me, he wants to whisper, you deserve so much better.

He could listen to you talk for hours. That soft voice lulls him into a state of nirvana he's never experienced, body practically going numb with how in tune it is with your words, like he's become some kind of plant absorbing all your emotions, thoughts, feelings, as you bare yourself to him. You're so lovely. Please never stop talking.

It all culminates in the removal of your crucifix. He barely even thinks about it, just knows exactly what he has to do to calm you, to make you feel better, to steal back some of those worries from you and lock them away for a little bit where they can't hurt you. It's the least he can do. He wants to do it.

It's a gesture he doesn't fully realize the importance of, the magnitude - not yet, anyway.

He backtracks while you shower. It's just sex. This is not going any further than you showing her how it's done, preparing her for the real world, for the future men who actually stand a chance with her. The thought makes him dig his nails deep into his duvet as he settles under the sheets and takes a deep breath. She's not yours. She doesn't want you the way she thinks she does. She doesn't know the real you.

He can't help but picture you in his shower, standing naked under the hot water, in the exact spot he's gotten himself off to your very image. His dick twitches in his pajama pants and he has to adjust himself, cursing softly at his dirty thoughts and reminding himself that nothing is happening tonight, that you don't want to. He's not even disappointed, doesn't care that the sexting from earlier isn't coming to fruition tonight; just laying with you is enough for him. And he hates himself because he knows exactly what that means.

His phone vibrates while he's waiting and he picks it up from the nightstand - a text from Sarah:

Gettin closer! We should be there tomorrow, probably late afternoon. Do you work Fridays?

Yep, he wants to say, Monday to Friday, every week of my entire life since before you were born, but of course he doesn't. Would never.

I do but I'll be back around 5:30 or so. I'll give you a call when I'm home.

Sounds good!!!

Also:

An image comes in and he taps it, squinting his eyes to figure out exactly what he's looking at. He can make out Sarah and Mish sitting atop some statue of a bull they must have encountered outside a gas station. Sarah's arm is thrown back as she poses with her signature killer smile, while Mish grips the bullhorns and sticks her tongue out, braids peeking out from under a cowboy hat. There's something about it that's familiar, something he can't quite place as his eyes strain without the aid of his glasses - the ones he never wears. He pushes his phone away from his eyes, brings it back and hopes to bring the image into focus a little bit.

Oh. It's his hat.

And fuck, if he doesn't know how that makes him feel.

"You need glasses," he hears you say softly, and he looks up from the image of his daughter and ex wife to see you standing at the edge of the bed, clad in nothing but a towel.

He locks his phone and hopes you weren't standing there too long.

He doesn't know how to tell you that he won't be able to see you tonight.

He spends the morning in complete and utter bliss, waking up to your bashful request to give him a blowjob. You're so fucking sweet, even when asking for something so filthy. Your mouth is soft and warm around his cock and he feels like he's died and gone to heaven, wants desperately to spill inside and watch you swallow but knows it's not the right time, not yet.

He wonders what your face would look like covered in his come.

Dirty. Old. Man.

You burn his breakfast and furiously apologize, cursing under your breath as you soak the freshly burnt pan under the faucet and frown at your failure. But he doesn't view it as a failure; for him it's just another thing to add to the mental list of reasons he thinks you're adorable.

You ride his thigh. He makes you come, the most beautiful little sounds escaping your lips as you ride it out. He loves how that little worry line between your brows always returns when he's making you feel good, like he really is taking some of that worry away and replacing it with pleasure. He only wants to see that line when he's making you come. He never wants to see you sad again like you'd been last night, just wants to hold you in his arms and protect you from the world.

But then it's time to go and he still hasn't told you about tonight. He does not want to lie to you. He refuses to. But what else can he say? Just that he'll be out late? What if you ask him why? And god, it's not like he's gonna do anything. He's not gonna entertain Mish's offer, not this time. He shouldn't. He won't.

You save him the trouble. Your friend from college is visiting, a girl named Tasha - she's taking you out for the first time ever. He supposes that makes things much easier; no explaining or giving excuses, no revealing things he's not ready to reveal. He dodged a bullet.

Right?

So why does he still feel like such a prick?

He gets home from work and calls Sarah, just like he said he would. He only has a short window of time to do a bit of sprucing - fluff the couch pillows a bit, do a quick wipe down of the bathroom - before the doorbell is ringing and he's jogging to the door with excitement coursing through his veins. The anxiety has dulled at the mere promise of seeing his daughter on the other side of that door.

"DAD!" she squeals excitedly as he thrusts it open, and he's immediately enveloped in the warmth of Sarah's embrace, sweet and familiar.

"Kiddo," he breathes into her hair, feeling tears prick in his eyes like they always do, "Missed ya."

"Missed you too," she says into his shoulder, muffled and quiet, "So much, Dad, you have no idea."

They have their moment together, eyes closed as they sway on the spot and smile tearfully - it's been almost a year since her last visit. It didn't used to feel as palpable, those long periods of time between seeing each other, but as he's gotten older he finds that he misses her a lot; his little pal, not so little anymore. Thirty eight now, a full blown woman with a loving husband and a freshly solid career as an author, the life he always wanted for her.

"How're things?" he asks softly, "You doin' okay? Need any money?"

She laughs, "Things are good. I'm good, I promise."

"How's Jude, he good?"

"He's great, and the book's been doin' really well."

"I'm so happy to hear that, kiddo, really. Happy for both of you."

"Thanks, Dad," she murmurs, sniffling a little bit, "Couldn't have done it without you, hope you know that."

And then she's pulling away, wiping the tears from her eyes and waving to the purple convertible behind her, gesturing for Mish to get out of the car.

Here we go.

She steps out and god, she's gorgeous. Age has done nothing but enhance her beauty. She's never not been the most stunning woman in a room, soft skin a glowing deep umber, supple long legs and playful smile and those dark brown - almost black - eyes that practically sparkle when she looks at him. Like the way she's looking at him now... fuck.

"Hey," she says with a sly grin, shutting the car door behind her and making her way up the front steps.

"Hey," he echoes back, "How was the drive?"

"Long," she groans, reaching him and going in for a hug. It's nowhere near as long or as intimate as Sarah's, but the feeling of her body against his feels just as familiar and comforting. It's so easy to fall back into their rhythm. Too easy. "You been good?" she asks as they part.

He nods quickly, "Yeah, you?"

"Can't complain," she replies with a smile.

"Oh please," Sarah scoffs beside her, "All you've done is complain," she looks to Joel with a grimace, "Alvin's out of the picture."

"Sarah," Mish admonishes quickly, brows narrowing.

"Yeah, I heard somethin' about that," he says, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, "Uh - that's too bad, Mish. He was, um... he was a good guy."

"No, he wasn't," she sighs, rolling her eyes and giving Sarah another look, "But that's a conversation for another time, right?"

Sarah puts her hands up in defense, "Sorry, sorry, my bad. We've been in the car too fuckin' long," she peeks past him with a curious expression on her face, "Can we come in? I wanna see your new house."

He shows them around, though there's not much to see, something which Mish points out almost immediately.

"Where's the character?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as she assesses the living room, "Like where's your stuff, Joel?"

"There's not even pictures of us anywhere," Sarah adds with a frown, scanning one of the bookshelves, "It's like we don't even exist."

He grimaces, hands on his hips, "I know, I'm sorry. I still have a few boxes up in the guest room but," he sighs, "You know me, I hate gettin' emotional over shit from the past. And half those boxes got your old school stuff, and-"

"Your Dad's a sentimental guy," Mish interjects with a soft smile, giving him those eyes again, "It's okay, we'll unpack 'em for you."

He scoffs, "We ain't got time for that, Mish."

"I always have time to be sentimental," her smile grows wider and she throws him a wink - his heart stutters.

"Well I always have time for a movie marathon," Sarah suddenly says, turning from the shelves with an array of DVDs in her hands, "Whaddaya say, Dad? Curtis and Viper? After the bar?"

He cocks an eyebrow, "The bar?"

"Oh? Didn't you hear? We're takin' you out, cowboy," Mish says with a smirk, "Or - I guess you're takin' us out. Whatever, either way we're goin' for dinner and drinks like the well adjusted wholesome family we are."

"And then we're gonna eat too much junk food and pass out on the couch like the good old days," Sarah adds, tossing the DVDs onto the coffee table, "Miller family fun."

"And do I get any say in this?"

They both turn to him at the same time with almost the same expression on their faces, and he knows he's already lost.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

They have dinner at their favorite chain, practically inhale their burgers and fries as Sarah and Mish catch Joel up on the trip so far, where they've been, what they've seen. He's grateful that the conversation is still on them by the time they get the check and start heading to the bar; he really doesn't want to answer any questions about himself tonight unless he has to.

The bar is louder than usual, much more packed than he's ever seen it. He grumbles this to Sarah and Mish but they just roll their eyes and order their drinks, cozying up together on their barstools and laughing hysterically over things that certainly aren't that funny. They're exhausted from their road trip and he can tell, tries to urge them to head back to the house after about fifteen minutes of being at the bar, but they resist.

"I like this place better than your old joint," Mish calls to him over the chatter, "Smells better too."

"Am I supposed to say thank you?" he calls back with a grin, and she just rolls her eyes and orders him another whiskey.

They don't stay too long, just enough for the girls to get their fill and toss back a few beers, continuing to tell Joel about their trip. Sarah scrolls through the pictures on her phone and shows him the tourist traps, the stops they've made here and there, the food they've eaten. Mish chimes in every so often to add her own anecdotes, bouncing off Sarah's stories naturally like she always has.

He loves how easy it feels to be with them, how comfortable, how safe. He's missed them so much. He wishes things could just stay like this for the rest of the night, simple and light, but every so often he catches Mish looking at him from under her lashes, those dark eyes searching his for something in particular, and he remembers there's still something they haven't addressed.

"Oh my god, Mom," Sarah suddenly says with wide eyes, pointing toward the front of the bar, "Do you see that girl's hat?"

"Where?"

"Those girls over there, look at that purple cowboy hat. Fuuuck, we should be wearing ours!"

Joel rolls his eyes, not bothering to look in the direction Sarah's pointing to and instead focusing on his whiskey, trying to think of ways he can get them out of this bar. Curtis & Viper is suddenly calling his name.

"They're still in the car if you wanna grab 'em," Mish says with a laugh, tossing Sarah the keys, "If you can walk straight."

"Oh please, I've had one beer. We're not all lightweights in this family, ya know," she presses a kiss to her mother's cheek before sliding past to head back to the front of the bar.

"Well, now that we have a moment alone..." she leans forward a bit on her elbow, hand cupping her chin as she tilts her head, "You didn't answer my question the other day, cowboy."

Here it is, the conversation he's been dreading, the one thing he's been putting off talking about the most. And why has he been dreading it? Why has he been filled with so much discomfort and anxiety at the thought of telling Mish that even though he's technically single, he can't be with her this time? It's not like she'd be angry with him, like she'd misunderstand or throw a fit over it. So why can't he just say it?

He knows why. It's because he doesn't want to tell Mish about you. It's because the second he says no, she'll see right through him; she'll know. She'll know immediately that there's somebody else, and she'll clock his feelings - the feelings he's been forcing himself to bury - and then he'll have to confront them, what they really mean.

And as usual, he's terrified.

He plays dumb, "What question?"

She inches the stool forward with a smirk, eyeing him pointedly as he feels her bare leg touch his jeans, slowly drifting up and down along his calf. Fuck. She tilts her head, eyes falling to his lips and then going back up to meet his gaze.

"Playin' coy, are we?" she asks softly, "Need me to say it out loud, huh?"

He feels goosebumps rise all over his arms at the sound of her voice like that, low and sultry; it's the voice she reserves just for these private moments together, fully aware of the effect she has over him.

"You gonna fuck me, cowboy?" she continues, eyes falling to his lips again, "Huh? You been missin' me in your bed?"

Fuck.

He doesn't say anything, just watches as her face moves a little closer to his, the hint of his favorite sly smile puling at the corner of her mouth. She assesses him quietly, gaze raking over his features.

"You're shy tonight, aren't you?" she says, fluttering her lashes, "You need me to take care of you, baby boy? You need your mommy?"

Only Mish could get away with saying something like that to him. He can't help but let a grin cross his own face as he shakes his head at the words, feeling his cheeks flush. He's still unsure what to say, what to think, how to feel. Under any other circumstance they would already be fucking in a bathroom stall at this point, and in a few seconds she's gonna realize that and wonder why the fuck he won't give in.

She kisses him then. Softly.

And it's right. It's so fucking right in all the ways it's always been. Her mouth is warm, lips plump and wet and sweet against his, capturing his bottom lip between hers in that seductive fashion she's oh so good at. Without any thought, as if on instinct, his hand comes up to cup her face, holding her there for a moment as he breathes her in. He realizes how easy it would be to just fall back into this rhythm, this old habit they've been indulging themselves in for years. It just feels so right.

But it's also so fucking wrong.

It's wrong. It's so wrong. This is not the mouth he wants to be kissing. For years, he's always found comfort and safety in Mish's kiss, never once felt like what they were doing was incorrect or some kind of mistake. But now it's like every fiber of his being is telling him to stop. To pull away. To end this as soon as possible.

So he does.

He takes a deep breath as they separate, pulls back from her on his stool a bit and takes another sip of whiskey. No, this can't happen. It's not going to happen. But he's gonna have to tell her that, otherwise she'll take the next step and he's not sure he'll be able to reign it in after that. The thought of her naked body underneath him in his bed is admittedly a tantalizing offer, the thought of being inside her again after so many years apart...

But she won't be the first naked woman in that bed. In that house. Someone else has already staked their claim, regardless of whether what he shares with you is real or not. And that thought is what pulls him out of it.

"Sarah's right," he says with a smile, "You are a lightweight."

She cocks her brow, "You think I'm drunk?"

He chuckles and takes another sip, "I think you're only here for one night and we should be spendin' that one night with our daughter."

She doesn't say anything for a second, just watches him thoughtfully until he finally meets her gaze again.

"Joel Miller, are you gettin' laid?"

He almost chokes on his whiskey, unable to stop himself from snorting as he shakes his head and peers at her with that fond look he's always given her, the one that lets her know that despite everything, he fucking adores her. She leans a bit closer, tilting her head a bit more with intrigue.

"Seriously, you seein' anyone?" she seems genuinely interested, eyes alight with curiosity, "You got someone new?"

Before he can say anything - before he even really knows what to say - Sarah has reappeared at the bar, hats in hand. He looks down at them and raises an eyebrow as Mish grabs hers, or rather his, the ratty old brown one he used to wear sometimes in the eighties. She grins and winks as if to say yeah, I stole it, so what?

"Okay well, purple cowboy hat girl is currently holding her friend's hair while she throws up on the sidewalk," Sarah sighs, placing her own atop her head.

Joel and Mish groan simultaneously, "Been there," they both say at the same time, catching each other's eye before Joel turns his attention back to his drink, almost gone now. She doesn't ask him anything else, but he knows this conversation is far from over.

Sarah drops them off at his place, promising to be back in a bit with the much anticipated junk food - no point in them all going together. Joel almost tells her not to go, his heart in his throat as he and Mish climb out of the car. He can't believe how desperate he suddenly is to not be alone with her. But he can't bring himself to say anything.

Coward.

She walks into the house first, almost like she's leading him into the lion's den. There's no escaping her questions now, no more running away from the inevitable. He has to tell her before it's too late. The front door closes behind them and they stand frozen for a moment, not speaking, not even really looking at each other. He could cut the tension with a knife.

"So how 'bout showin' me those boxes?" she finally asks, turning to give him a smile.

They make their way up the stairs to the guest room, Joel's anxiety reaching new levels when they pass by his bedroom. He not so subtly grabs the knob and pulls the door closed, tries to pretend he doesn't notice Mish eyeing him as he does it.

The guest room is still pretty bare bones, only a bed and dresser occupying the space, along with about half a dozen cardboard boxes. He's been meaning to do it up for when Sarah comes to stay, do some decorating, but he's never been good at that kind of stuff - Mish and Sarah were always the creative ones.

They crouch on the floor together and Joel watches as Mish pops open the first box, digging her hand inside and immediately coming out with a framed photo of Sarah's kindergarten graduation.

"Aw, look," she murmurs, thumbing the glass lightly and turning it toward him, "Little bean."

"She was so excited you came," he says with a smile, "It was all she talked about for months."

Mish smiles back sadly, eyeing the photograph one more time before placing it on the floor. She reaches in again and comes out with another framed photo, this one of an even younger Sarah being pushed on a swing by Joel. She's probably almost two, chubby legs poking out through the holes of the swing as she giggles in wonder, Joel standing behind, squinting against the sun.

"I've always loved this one," she says quietly, showing it to him, "Always wanted a copy to keep."

"We can make that happen," he takes it from her and looks down at it himself, feeling a mixture of emotions flutter in his heart at his much younger self - freshly twenty - pushing his little girl. He'd been on his own for a while at that point; he can see the tiredness in his expression, the loneliness.

"Still mad I missed all that," she murmurs, sitting back on her heels and sighing deeply, "Hate myself so much sometimes."

He's not sure what to say, just puts the picture back down and reaches in for another one - Sarah's high school graduation this time. It's a backyard photo, one taken at the barbecue they'd had with about thirty people all crammed into one frame. There are smiles all around, beer bottles raised, and Sarah in the center wearing that beautiful purple dress she'd spent almost a year working on. Mish and Joel stand on either side of her, frozen in a moment of laughter.

What the camera didn't catch was that behind that purple dress, they were holding hands.

"What a party that was, huh?" Mish glances up at him from under her lashes, those dark eyes sparkling with nostalgia, "You remember?"

He smiles softly, "I remember."

The arrangement started in '03.

They hadn't seen each other in about three years when she showed up on his doorstep in the summer of '96. She'd been in and out of their lives before then, usually called every other week to check in and talk to Sarah but rarely ever showed her face. Sarah barely knew her but had a love for her that burned so deep that Joel couldn't say half the things he wanted to. Couldn't tell his daughter that her mother was unpredictable and unreliable, that she'd disappeared for almost two years after Sarah had been born, hadn't checked in once, had only begun to show up again in 1988 when Sarah was almost three. And then one day the calls just stopped coming and he had no other choice but to tell her the truth. She was only eight.

Mish showing up again out of the blue when Sarah was eleven was not something they could have ever predicted. He was angry. She was sorry. She'd been to a facility, had been seeing a psychiatrist and a therapist for a solid chunk of time and was on medication. Sarah slapped her across the face and sprinted barefoot down the street until her toes were bloody and she couldn't run anymore. Joel found her and cradled her in his arms like he'd done when she was a baby, promised he'd make Mish go away if that's what Sarah wanted.

It was not what she wanted. She wanted a mom. She wanted her mom. She wanted them to be together.

After that, all they could do was try and heal.

And Mish tried. She did. She was ready. Joel was willing to listen. Sarah forgave, slowly. By Christmas of '97 they were living together again. They'd put their wedding rings back on.

But it couldn't last.

"Maybe this just isn't meant to work," she'd whispered to him tearfully on their back patio on a rainy day in March of '98, head in her hands, "I'm better in some ways but worse in others. I'm not meant for this kinda life, Joel. I just can't stay still anymore."

"Maybe we aren't meant to work," he'd told her firmly, "But Sarah needs you, Michelle. You can't just keep coming back into her life and then disappearing. If you do, you're never gonna see her again."

"I know," she'd whispered, quiet and scared, "I know, Joel. And I won't, I'll never do that to her ever again. But I just..." she'd hung her head, tears streaming down her face, "I just don't know what to do."

He'd suddenly felt a flash of deja vu, a reminder of a moment similar to this one twelve years earlier, when he'd held her just like this while she'd cried in his arms, hopelessness raking through both their trembling forms in the downpour.

"They'll kill me, Joel. They're gonna kill me. How am I supposed to be a mom? This can't be real. This isn't happening. What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know, Mish. But I'm with you, okay? I'm not goin' anywhere. You got me. I don't care what they think, what they wanna do. It's just you and me, you hear me?"

"You and me, Joel. Just you and me."

She left Joel and the life they'd cultivated in the year since she came back, but she didn't leave Sarah, not this time. She kept up with regular visits, called often, tried her best to be a mother in the only ways she knew how. Eventually Joel stopped worrying she'd disappear again, and she didn't. Sarah and Mish's relationship wasn't an easy one, especially during those first few years of being reconnected, but eventually they were mother and daughter again. The way it always should have been. They'd go on adventures together, road trips and concerts and trips to amusement parks, everything they could to make up for lost time.

As for she and Joel, they became friends. For the first time in a long time they talked again, really talked. They got to know each other from scratch without the pressures of trying to be people they weren't; she'd come to stay every so often and she'd be more than welcome in their home, a reassuring presence to Sarah and a comforting one for him. There were times he almost kissed her again, almost embraced her the way they used to embrace, but then he'd remind himself that they didn't work. Couldn't work. He'd push the feelings down and love her from a distance, the only way he could.

She came to stay for Sarah's graduation in '03. They had a big party, invited everyone they knew, got very drunk. The inevitable finally happened, something they'd been skirting around for the past few years every time they saw each other, the attraction and tension building and building the longer they went without admitting that they still wanted one another. They'd been through the ringer together and came out the other side and still looked at each other like they had in high school. It was only a matter of time.

They fucked all night and into the morning.

"Oh my god," he'd groaned into her ear, naked bodies splayed against each other in bed, entwined together for the first time in almost seven years, "I missed that. Jesus fuck, I missed that."

It was only meant to be that one time, a celebration of some sort that happened unexpectedly but never again. That was the case until she came back in '06, still single, still beautiful, and he couldn't help himself. They both couldn't help themselves.

The arrangement was simple: whenever they reunited with each other and they were both single, both wanted it, they'd have sex.

It worked. And it was good, so fucking good. Every time. They were wild with it, felt younger than they'd ever been whenever they were tangled up in Joel's bed, on the couch, in the shower. They tried new things together and had more fun than they'd ever had when they were actually in a relationship. Each time it was like they were playing pretend; pretending for a short while that their everyday problems didn't exist, nothing else existed but them. Just them - just this moment.

The last time he saw Mish was four years ago. He'd been fresh out of his last relationship, the only relationship that had really meant something to him since his marriage. Tess was lovely, beautiful and funny and exactly the person he'd needed after those tumultuous years with Mish; someone calm and collected, stable and secure. They were just friends first, for a while, but eventually developed a sexual relationship that was only ever meant to be casual. After about a year she'd confessed her feelings and he'd thought, what the hell, I might as well try. Unfortunately, his what the hell attitude had been a steady feature of their entire relationship, and he'd never been able to fully be what she'd needed.

It was his fault it ended, but that hadn't stopped him from feeling heartbroken over it. And when Sarah and Mish had visited she'd dressed his wounds in the only way she really knew how - sex. The sex was always good with Mish, regardless of the situation. It was always what they needed. But it could only ever be sex because their personalities were never meant to blend; she was flighty and wild and needed space - he was steady and serious and enjoyed the comforts of home. And those early years were something he'd never get back, something he still blamed her for, and she knew it. It could never work, as much as they may have tried early on.

She'd been on the cusp of a new relationship, this guy Alvin who she'd met in Philadelphia, but nothing was set in stone yet and she wanted Joel to feel good.

"Nothing else matters right now," she'd whispered in the darkness of their old bedroom, the one he'd shared with her countless times over the past twenty years, "It's just you and me, Joel. It's always been you and me."

"You and me, Mish," he'd repeated, hands firm against her bare back as she slowly began to ride him, "Just us, just you and me."

He's still staring at the picture of their younger selves when her hand slowly comes down to touch one of his. He swallows tightly, feels her eyes on him, senses her moving closer.

"Mish," he whispers; an acknowledgement? A warning?

He feels a finger on his chin, tilting his head up to meet her gaze, and then she's kissing him again. It's different than it was at the bar, much less soft, less reserved. She moans into his mouth as the picture falls to the floor, pushes him down so he's laying flat and then throws a leg over his thighs. She situates herself in his lap in the span of about five seconds and he barely has any time to register what's even happening.

But when he does... he's not happy.

"Stop," he mumbles against her mouth, bringing his hands down to grab her hips and carefully pull her off of him. Her brows furrow in confusion as he slides her away and sits back up, kneels and then stands with a groan. His fucking knees.

"Why?" she asks, peering up at him from the floor.

"'Cause... 'cause nothin'," he lies, shaking his head and sitting down on the edge of the bed with a sigh, wincing as his bones crack from being on the floor in such an odd position, "Nothin', I'm just tired."

She follows him up from the floor and onto the bed, seats herself beside him and leans in to mouth gently against his neck, hot and wet, "That's okay, baby. I can do all the work."

"I said no, Mish," he repeats, standing up again and walking away from the bed, "I don't want to."

"Why?" she repeats, adamant now.

He splutters, kicking his feet and not meeting her gaze, "Sarah'll be back soon, there's no time."

"Time has never been an issue before, you know that more than anybody."

"I just don't want you right now, alright?" it comes out much louder and angrier than he'd intended, "Jesus Christ, Mish."

That stops her short, the room plunging into silence as she stares at him from her place on the edge of the bed. Her lips begin to tremble, hands coming to wring together in her lap uncomfortably. She shakes her head slowly, tears welling in her wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, voice shaky, "I'm sorry, Joel."

God dammit. He hadn't meant to make her cry.

With a sigh he walks back over to the bed, sitting down beside her again - but not as close this time. She continues to stare forward, still tugging at her hands as tears slowly start to make their way down her cheeks. He feels a familiar pang of pity in his heart, the urge to comfort her like he always has, hold her close and kiss her softly. But he doesn't do that; instead, he places a hand on hers to halt her movements, squeezes them gently.

"You wanna know why it didn't work out with Alvin, Joel?" she asks quietly.

"Why?"

She takes a shaky breath, "He had a wife. A fuckin' wife and three kids. Young kids, still in school, still livin' at home."

"Jesus," he mutters.

"And you wanna know how I found out? Because one night he was sayin' her name when he was fuckin' me; Sharon. Fuckin' Sharon. Repeatin' it over and over without even realizing. And then he had the audacity to act like he didn't know what the hell I was talkin' about." The tears are flowing steadily now, staining her cheeks and dripping down onto their locked hands, "I did some diggin', found out his real name, found his whole other life. I've been a fuckin' mistress for four years and had no clue."

"Michelle..." he breathes.

"Don't call me that," she snaps, turning her face away from him and trying to reign the tears back in but failing miserably, voice coming out in sobs now, "You know how long it's been since someone wanted me, Joel? Actually wanted me? I get that I'm a shitty person. I know I fucked up a lot in my life. I mean, maybe I don't deserve love, 'cause why the hell can't I fuckin' find it? Why does nobody want me?"

"Stop," he says firmly, squeezing her hands tighter, "Don't say shit like that, don't think that way."

"But it's true," she cries, pulling her hands away and bringing them up to her face, "I just needed to be wanted again, Joel. Just for a night, and now you don't even want me."

"That's- that's not true, Mish, come on."

"You literally just said the words two minutes ago," she's suddenly inconsolable, tears streaming down her face as she sobs beside him, "You don't want me, no one wants me."

His arms come up to wrap around her, pull her close to him as she cries harder. He doesn't know what the fuck to do, how to be what she needs without being what she needs. It's an impossible position to be in; how can he just walk out the door and leave her sitting there like this? Leave her so sad, so broken?

"Joel, I need this," she whispers, peering up at him through her wet lashes and leaning her head forward to rest against his shoulder, "Please. I need you."

God. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What the fuck is he supposed to do? How the fuck can he say no when she's looking at him like that, begging for him?

"Please," she repeats, turning her head and pressing a wet kiss to the skin of his collarbone, "Please, Joel, please," her kisses slowly move up to his neck, warm and safe and familiar. His eyes start to close, lips parting as she keeps going, "It's just us, it's you and me."

Just us, you and me.

"Stay here," he finally breathes, thumbing the skin of her hip reassuringly, "Just - just stay here, okay? I'll be right back."

He finds himself thirty seconds later just standing in his bedroom, unmoving, unsure, thoughts going a mile a minute. He breathes in and out slowly, tries to calm the anxiety threatening to burst through the seams of his very being. What the fuck am I doing? What the actual fuck am I doing right now?

He goes through the motions without really feeling or understanding them. Goes to the bathroom and relieves himself, splashes cold water on his face and stares at his reflection for too long. Heads back to his bedroom and just stands there again, heart pounding. She's waiting for him. Time is passing and he's just standing there.

"Joel?" he hears her call out, voice still thick with tears.

He does not want her to follow him in here. He does not want to have sex in this bed.

With shaky steps he walks over to his nightstand and tugs it open, sees the box of condoms. Stares at them. Stares at them so long that she calls out again.

"Joel? You comin'?"

He feels like he's underwater, ears ringing as his hand trembles on the handle of the drawer, itching to just slam it closed again. What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?

And then he sees it.

He'd completely forgotten it was there, has been doing his best this entire night to not think about you that he's already managed to forget what happened last night. But he remembers now. He reaches down, hand suddenly completely steady, and pulls the gold chain to entwine around his fingers. It's like he's touching you in a way, feeling you, sensing you - your tears, your sadness, your anger, your insecurities - all wrapped up in this one little cross.

He thumbs it carefully, eyes softening, anxiety ebbing away as the seconds pass. He pictures your lovely face this morning, all sleepy and pretty and perfect in the glow of the early sunrise, the way your hair framed your face, the way you bit your lip shyly when you told him what was on your mind.

He hears footsteps in the hall, knows she's coming, but he doesn't care. Just keeps standing there with his hand curled around your crucifix and warmth filling his chest.

He hears the door open, hears her step inside.

"I can't," he says softly, before she can speak.

Silence. Then -

"What's that?"

"It's..." he closes his fist around the crucifix and then shuts the drawer slowly, still looking down at it. When he finally brings his head up he sees Mish standing near the side of the bed, looking at him with confusion in her eyes.

He swallows tightly, "There's someone else, Mish."

He watches the realization dawn on her face, the confusion fading and acceptance flooding her features. She nods slowly, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears still trickling down her cheeks. "You coulda just said that," she breathes, closing her eyes, "Why didn't you just say?"

He doesn't reply, doesn't know what to say. Or rather, knows what to say but can't say it because then it'll make it real. And he's still so fucking scared for it to be real.

Mish slowly walks forward and sits on the edge of the bed, taking a few steadying breaths to calm herself. "Feel like a fuckin' idiot," she mumbles; she seems okay now, nowhere near as hysterical as she'd been before.

"You're not an idiot," he murmurs. God, he should have just fucking told her. He should have said something.

"So, who is she?" she asks quietly.

"She's..." he swallows again, taking a seat on the other side of the bed, facing the opposite direction, "She's a girl I met a little while ago." A few weeks ago, he mentally corrects. Almost a month. Barely any time at all.

She clocks that. "Girl? Or woman?"

"....Girl."

"How old?"

"Twenty one."

"Jesus," he's not sure what she's thinking when he can't see her face, not sure if she's angry or disgusted or just surprised, "I mean, wow. That's... that's young, Joel."

"I know."

"Never known you to go even ten years lower."

"I know."

Silence again. He's waiting for her to ask the question, the one he knows is coming, the one he's been dreading every since he got that text from Sarah on Wednesday. The one that will force him to admit what he's so desperately been trying to bury.

"So... is it just sex? Or is it..." she trails off for a few seconds, "Is it more?"

There it is.

"I don't know," he murmurs, putting his face in his hands and hunching over the side of the bed with a groan, "I don't know what it is but she's... she's in my head, ya know? She's everywhere, can't stop fuckin' thinkin' about her." The crucifix digs into his cheek, probably making an imprint in his skin, "She's so fuckin' young but, God, Mish, she's so fuckin' sweet. I wanna... I wanna take care of her, ya know? But-" he feels the tears flooding his eyes, tries to swallow his feelings as best he can, "I'm just.. I can't..."

"You're in over your head," she acknowledges softly, "You don't know what you're doin'."

"I don't."

"And that scares the fuck outta you, huh?"

"Pretty much."

They don't say anything else for a few moments, both absorbing the revelation in silence and neither really knowing what else to say about it. This night has gone in a direction that neither were prepared for and he's not sure they'll be able to fix it before Sarah gets back. Which reminds him...

"You'd think Sarah woulda been back by now."

Mish snorts, a welcome sound in the middle of so much tension. He turns around to look at her, finds her doing the exact same thing.

"I told her to give us forty five minutes to an hour, tops," she says with a half smile.

Of course she did.

Mish decides to get a cab back to the motel she and Sarah booked. He doesn't argue. He knows it's for the best, knows there will be another, better conversation some time in the future and that despite everything, they'll see each other again.

"She's lucky to have you," she tells him softly at the front door, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. He can hear the sincerity in her words, knows she means it. "You'll take care of her, Joel. Like you take care of everyone."

He just closes his eyes, pulls her in closer and lets the tears fall.

Sarah gets back with the food, doesn't question where Mish is; she must have texted her and told her she wouldn't be here. There's no awkwardness or questions, just the same old familiarity and love as Sarah pops the first DVD into the ancient player they've had forever and settles in beside him on the couch. They only half-watch it, continuously getting distracted by each other's dumb commentary and random anecdotes about the past. This is what he wanted tonight to be. Just this.

He tries his best to be present with Sarah, but by the time they're halfway through the second film he can't stop thinking about you. He'd spent so much of today trying to push thoughts of you away and now your face is suddenly all he can see whenever he blinks, your soft giggles and whimpers echoing in his ears. He wonders what you're doing, if you're having a nice time with your friend, if you're being careful like he'd told you to be. You'd said this was your first time going out and he just hopes you're safe. Your crucifix sits reassuringly in the pocket of his jeans, almost like a part of you is still here with him.

He excuses himself to use the bathroom and sends you a quick text:

Hope you're having a good night, babygirl. You deserve to have some fun. I'll see you tomorrow. Be safe.❤️

He feels the urge to press a kiss to his phone and wonders when the hell he got so damn soft. He can practically hear Mish's voice telling him you've always been soft, dummy. She'd be right.

They both wake up the next morning still snuggled up on the couch, Sarah on one end and him on the other. He yawns and stretches, groans when he feels a searing pain in his lower back; fuck, he shouldn't have slept on the couch.

"Old man," Sarah mocks quietly with a glint in her eye, and he playfully slaps her leg.

He checks his phone when Sarah heads to the bathroom, hopes maybe you'll have replied to him when you got in last night, but there's nothing there. He frowns but lets logic soothe him, reminding himself that you were probably too tired when you got back and fell asleep right away. He sends you another text, just to be sure:

You get home ok? Let me know x

He'll see you soon for your lesson anyway.

After breakfast he walks Sarah out onto the front step, hand holding hers tightly, almost afraid to let go. She smiles up at him sadly and squeezes back, a silent promise.

"I'll visit again real soon, Dad," she says quietly, "Sooner than last time. I'll bring Jude too, y'all can watch football together."

He smiles with watery eyes, "I'm countin' on it, kiddo."

"You're not lonely, are you?" she suddenly asks, expression one of love and concern, "You got people here, right?"

Your face crosses his mind again, your lovely smile, that little line between your brows, "I'm not lonely," he reassures her softly, "Promise."

He means it.

They hug each other tenderly, basking in one last moment together before they inevitably have to pull away. She walks to her car and turns back with one final wave, tears glistening in her eyes. He waves back and then heads back inside the house quickly before she can see what a mess he is, hands coming up to cover his eyes on the other side of the door as he pulls himself together.

And then, just like that, he's alone again.

You don't show up to your lesson.

His first thought is that you're still asleep, probably hungover from last night and desperately in need of some rest. He doesn't blame you, has had more bad hangovers than he can even count. He checks in with you anyway, hoping he'll hear back soon when you wake up.

Another hour passes; he's already cleaned up the kitchen, vacuumed up the popcorn lining the couch and living room floor, rearranged the DVDs, and suddenly the boxes upstairs in the guest room are calling his name. Anything to make the time pass, anything to distract himself from the fact that he still hasn't heard from you.

He texts you again after two hours, after he's finished unpacking two boxes. He just sends some question marks this time. It's around noon now and he keeps trying to convince himself that you're just sleeping, probably still passed out in bed with leftover alcohol buzzing through your veins. The thought makes him wish he was there with you, taking care of you, bringing you glasses of water and cuddling with you until you feel better.

It's mid afternoon when he starts to question whether or not you even got home. He knows you're not home home, that you'd gone to an Airbnb with your friend for the weekend, but he has no idea where it is and if you're even there. What if something happened on the night out? What if you got lost or got too fucked up to figure out how to get back? What if someone you didn't know took you back with them?

He feels sick to his stomach. This time he does the only rational thing he feels he can do - he calls you. He sits on the edge of his bed, toes tapping against the hardwood floor as he waits for you to pick up, but you don't. It goes to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again. Same thing.

He texts you again, but something tells him you won't be reading them any time soon.

He leaves the house to clear his head, anxiously tapping on the wheel as he drives around the neighborhood. He passes by your parents' house a few times, eyeing the property and trying his best to see past the ridiculous fence they have blocking off the place. He makes out a police car in the driveway and almost has a panic attack before he remembers that your father is a cop and that's just the vehicle he drives.

He calls and texts you a few more times as the evening comes around. He pours himself some whiskey and tries to calm himself down, breathes in and out, practices the exercises he's had to depend on throughout most of his life. He's always had an anxiety problem, has been on and off medication for it for years. He briefly considers popping an Ativan before realizing that he probably shouldn't mix it with alcohol.

The alcohol messes with his head a bit as darkness falls. He starts to wonder if maybe you did get back safe, just with someone else, someone new. Maybe you met someone, had a connection, took them home and let them be the one to fuck you for the first time. Maybe the reason you're not reaching out is because you're afraid of what he'll say, afraid he'll be angry.

While the thought makes him feel sick and sad, he's even sicker and sadder about not knowing where the fuck you are. He sends you a text to reiterate this, hoping you'll read it and understand:

Just a text is all I need honey. I promise. If you're not feeling this anymore that's okay. Just wanna know you got home safe last night.

He's already unpacked all the boxes, peppered photographs and music memorabilia all over his house as the day came to a close, and now he has nothing else to do but just sit and wait. So he waits. And waits. And waits.

You still don't reply.

He calls you over and over again, wondering what the fuck he's going to do. He can't in good conscious just let this go on, just stop contacting you and let you come back to him on your own. What if something bad really did happen? What if you're really fucked up somewhere? What if someone took advantage of you? He can't just sit idly by and wait.

He lays in bed and stares at the ceiling, feels tears sting his eyes every time he comes up with a new concept as to where you are, what could have happened. All he wants is to have you here with him, warm and soft in his bed, close in all the ways he needs you.

I don't know what to do angel. Can't stop thinking about you. Wish you were here in my arms. Please be safe.

He's scaring himself the longer he thinks about where you could be, knows he has to take action. He decides that if he still hasn't heard from you by tomorrow morning, he'll tell somebody. Whether it be the police or your parents, it doesn't really matter - they're one and the same.

He sends you one last text before the whiskey puts him to sleep:

Please.

The doorbell wakes him up. At first he thinks maybe he's hearing things, especially when he tiredly unlocks his phone and sees that it's three in the morning, but then it rings again. And again. Over and over like someone is pressing the button repeatedly. He sits up in bed with a jolt and swings his legs over the side, heart racing as he practically sprints down the stairs.

He turns on the light, squinting with tired and bleary eyes through the frosted glass along the side of the door. He can make out something pink and his eyes widen. He grabs the handle and tugs the door open, only for his body to immediately collide with someone else's, a beautiful girl in a pink dress.

It's you. His beautiful girl. His angel. Standing there almost completely unable to hold yourself upright as you lean against him, arms coming up to wrap around his middle. He holds you close, momentarily frozen in shock.

"Are you okay?"

You're so out of it. He takes you to the couch and you can barely open your eyes, can barely get words out as you flop drunkenly against the cushions. He can't tell if you're drunk or high or both, trying his best to get your attention, desperately asking what you took, where you've been. It's terrifying to see you like this, so completely not yourself, loose and uninhibited in the worst way. You tell him you came here with Tasha and he waves her inside, hoping she can help shed some light on what the fuck happened to you.

Tasha is something else. She stands her ground, doesn't back down when he clearly tries to intimidate her, consistently tries to get past him and reach for you despite his attempts to block her. He's angry, so fucking angry that she could let this happen to you. How long have you been like this? How long has this "night out" been going on? Did it turn into a fucking bender?

"She knows what you've been doing, you asshole." The words mean nothing to him, he has no idea what the fuck she's even talking about. They're clearly both wasted - you more than her - and have somehow wound up at his house at three in the morning by some miraculous volition. He's not letting you leave with her, that's for sure.

Then you say the same thing to him and he's beyond confused, waiting to be let in on whatever sick fucking joke is being played on him right now. What do they think he's been doing? What do they think they know? What have their intoxicated brains convinced themselves of?

And then the other shoe drops.

"We saw you kiss someone else."

That feeling he'd had yesterday - that sensation of being underwater - returns in full force. He stares at you; not Tasha, you. Because as soon as she says it your eyes tear away from him to stare at the floor, lips trembling in sadness, hands shaking beneath Tasha's arms. He can see it in your expression, in your body language despite the alcohol - you're fucking heartbroken. You can't even look at him.

He tries to explain but the words aren't coming out right; he's sure he sounds absolutely pathetic as he just stands there in the middle of the living room, stumbling over his words like the absolute fool he is. You still don't look at him. You don't say anything, and it kills him.

That's when he realizes that Tasha is not the one in the wrong here. It's him. He's the one who deserves to be shouted at, intimidated, made to feel small. He's the one who fucked up. It's him.

And then - if the situation hadn't already been bad enough - Tasha informs him that you'd seen Sarah leaving this morning. His eyes go wide, heart racing like a steam engine in his chest as he shakes his head and wonders how the fuck this could be happening right now. The past few days he's been so unsure about letting you know the real him, didn't know if he'd ever be able to tell you - and now he has no choice. No choice but to drop a bomb on you in this sad and drunken state, otherwise leave you believing that he's been doing god knows what with god knows who.

"That was my daughter."

You register the words and finally look at him, and his heart swells three sizes in his chest when your gazes meet. Just for a moment you don't look as sad, don't look as broken. You peer into his eyes and he thinks for a moment that maybe you see him, really see him, for the first time. It's both terrifying and incredible and he doesn't know how he manages to get the words out, but he does.

He knows now what he has to do.

He has to tell you. He has to tell you everything.

Tasha apologizes and helps you back out to the cab. He watches her place you carefully inside, watches as you turn your head to look out the back window, still peering at him with that look on your face that he can't really explain. He stands and waits until you've disappeared down the street before going back inside, where he immediately collapses onto the couch, exhausted.

He reaches inside his pocket and tugs out your crucifix, brings it up to his neck with trembling hands and manages to latch it around his neck. He palms the cross, presses it into the bare skin at his collarbone.

She's safe, he thinks to himself, she's safe and that's all that matters.

In the morning, as soon as he wakes up, he sends you a text:

I'm so sorry. Words can't even describe how fucking ashamed and embarrassed I am. I can't imagine how horrible that must have been for you. I understand if you don't want to see me anymore, but I want to tell you everything, if you'll let me. I hope you're feeling okay today, angel. Drink lots of water, stay with Tasha. Text me whenever you're ready.

He wants to cry, thinking about how much he hurt you. He wouldn't blame you for wanting this to just be over now, to move on and pretend like you never even met him that day on his front step. He feels so fucking ashamed of himself, angry for not telling Mish the truth from the beginning, horrified that you'd seen him in a moment of weakness like that, a moment of cowardice.

The crucifix stays on his neck throughout his shower and breakfast. He's never been one to wear jewelry, and god knows he's never been one to wear jewelry with religious imagery, but somehow it calms him to have it on, soothes him. His anxiety feels better despite the circumstances, and he's grateful.

His phone buzzes around eleven and the force at which he picks it up almost sends it flying across the room. His brow furrows when he sees a text from an unknown number:

hey it's tasha. sorry about last night. that was a shitshow. she's awake and feeling better, just wanted you to know.

She didn't have to do that and he knows it.

Thank you. I'm glad she has you. I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you, I was just really worried about her.

that's ok. i know you're a good guy. she knows it too.

Do you, though? Do you really still think of him as being someone you can trust, someone you can talk to? Someone you can give yourself to completely?

i'm gonna send you the address of the airbnb. i think you should come talk to her.

The address follows and he puts it into his maps app; it's not too far, he can make it there in about forty minutes.

Thank you so much Tasha

text when ur here, i'll let you in.

He sits in his truck for a lot longer than he needs to after pulling up to the house. He knows he has to tell you everything now, that you're going to want answers and that he'll give them to you. But he's made a discovery in the past twelve hours that has his head reeling:

He wants to tell you. He wants you to know all about him. Suddenly, he doesn't mind that he's old and washed up and pathetic. He wants you to know that, wants you to see the real him, who he really is. The unpretty, uncharming reality of his mediocre life. He isn't sure that you'll want it, that you'll want him, but what he's sure of is that he's tired of pretending.

What Mish had said on Friday night - "You know how long it's been since someone wanted me, Joel? Actually wanted me?" - it had resonated with him in a way he hadn't been expecting. He knows that feeling, has been feeling it for years without actually saying it aloud because admitting it was too painful, too scary.

He's been putting on a front for his entire life. First, to his parents, then to Mish, then Sarah, then the select few women who'd come in and out of his life, then Tess, and now you. And he's tired. He's so fucking tired of pretending to be someone else. For the first time in a long time, he actually wants to be him.

I'm here.

Tasha opens the door to let him inside. The house is pretty cozy, probably one of the more inexpensive ones you both could find. He notes the leftover snacks littering the table and couch, the empty wine glasses. He hopes you had fun here, at least for a little while. Before he fucking ruined it.

"She's asleep," Tasha says, closing the door behind him and ushering him inside, "I wanna talk to you for a sec, before you go in."

He nods and she gestures toward the couch for him to sit. He takes his place on the edge, knees together as he looks up at her and waits for her to speak.

"I'm her best friend," she says firmly, hands on her hips - she means business, "I've known her for three years now and I know her better than anyone."

He nods slowly.

"She's really coming into herself right now," Tasha continues, "She's making big discoveries, figuring out who she is and what she wants. You know that."

"I do."

"And... well, we both know that what she wants most is you."

He swallows then, feels his heart begin to pound, clenching his fists at his knees.

"This thing with your ex, is it over?"

"Yes," he says immediately, "She'll always be my daughter's mother, she'll always be my friend, but that part of our relationship is over."

"And you mean that?"

"I mean it."

She assesses him and slowly nods, then curls her finger and urges him to stand back up. He does, suddenly towering over her in the small living room.

"First door on the left," she tells him, then walks to the front door, "I'll give you some space."

She's gone before he has the chance to thank her.

He slowly makes his way down the hallway, step by step. He reaches the door, heart pounding in his chest as he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and lets the promises he made to himself flood through his mind. His past, his present, and his future... the future he sees with you.

He touches his pocket, feels for your crucifix.

I can do this, he thinks to himself. For her, I can do this.

#joel miller x reader #fic: feelings on fire #*

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mrsnancywheeler · 6 months

Text

the lakes (4) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.6k words

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions and allusions of trafficking and sexualization of reader/finnick by capitol, manipulation of someone's feelings, allusions of past break up, allusions to death/violence, playful banter, no use of y/n, UNEDITED, me trying to write peeta, trauma, allusions to mental illness, survivors guilt

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The couch in all its neon greeness had been the same over the last 6 years. With the same garishly neon blue pillows in obnoxious shapes and as you stared at it it brought back when you and Conway had anxiously sat on it. When you began nervously sucking up to him, playing his sensitive side.

“I'm worried about you." Finnick popped a grape into his mouth as he sat on one of the velvety seats at the table. Honesty was his new approach, to tell you exactly what he was thinking especially if it was about you to force you to do the same. You were only a couple hours into the morning and this was evident.

“Why, Finnick?" You sighed, not in annoyance, well maybe a little bit in annoyance, but mostly the sigh had been one of love.

“I know we've both been back before, but not as tributes. You're going to start thinking about your games again as we go through the same steps. I'm worried you won't stay grounded."

“Yeah, well, I have you and as long as I can be in your arms I'll be okay."

He nodded observing you carefully, to make sure you weren't repressing anything deep within you, but he seemed satisfied for now. “It's not just you, I'm sure we're all going to be thinking a lot about the first time we were in this position." Finnick shrugged, grabbing another handful of grapes.

“Are you gonna be able to stay grounded?" You asked, putting down the knife you were using to butter your toast.

"I've managed this long.” He smirked, leaning forward, "Plus I've got you, angel.”

You rolled your eyes,"You're so cheesy.”

"What? So it's cheesy when I do it, but not when you do it?”

"Exactly.” You laughed. "Second day of married life and you're already catching on!”

"I'm a fast learner.” He raised his eyebrows, grinning.

The door opened and in came your escort. “Good morning, you two! Glad to see you've broken no more glasses, Finnick." She tutted, her dress was an eyesore to look at. You loved color, but her clashing bright ones made your head hurt.

“Nope, I've remembered my manners, Koalema.”

"Well that's good! Oh look, we're so close to arrival.” She kept babbling about something probably nonsensical. Koalema, why had you never been able to recall that name? You felt bad for not remembering, but it was so hard when she was flurry of chaos and overstimulation.

Finnick stood up and held his hand out for you, “Well here we go, angel. Be ready to put on that beloved smile and have those tears ready to spill. They love that about you." You took his hand and pulled yourself out of your seat.

“You don't need any instruction from me, always the charmer."

“Yeah, well I've had longer." The two of you prepared to greet the vultures waiting to eat up upon arrival. Standing in front of the window, hands tightly clasped together ready to gracefully swoop up your audience in their desired fantasy for the final time.

To smile at the people who had taken everything from you and completely controlled every aspect in your life. How people saw you, your relationship with Finnick, your relationship with yourself and your body, anything that you could think of they had somehow pulled strings in it. All of your life was under their thumb and you realized the lengths you would go to stop that, what would life be like when all you had left was memories that never needed to be reopened?

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It was beautiful. There was more food than you'd ever be able to eat and not a single scent of the salty seafood you were used to. Bright colors etched into your brain and everything was so modern, so clean. You had no idea what you'd expected, but it blew you away.

“This is where you two will be staying on our way to the Capitol! Isn't it beautiful? No expense has been spared, District 4 has a pretty good reputation of course and we'd like to keep that! So be in awe, but not so much that you forget about that." The garish woman said so cheerfully you were convinced you misheard her.

“No we wouldn't want that." Conway muttered and the woman gave him a sharp smile.

“Make yourselves at home, I do believe the two of you are very lucky and get the one, the only Finnick Odair as one of your mentors this year. Let me check on that and possibly, Odine." Her heels clicked out the room which inexplicably opened just as she stood in front of it.

Home. You'd never see home again, never swim in the comfort of its waters, see your family, lay in the warm sand. Yes, you would if you could win this, but you couldn't. And Finnick, how were you supposed to think about strategy when he would be right there?

“Are you okay?" A soft hand landed on your shoulder and Conway's deep, brown eyes spoke as much comfort as they could for you. Of course you weren't okay, how could you be? But saying that wouldn't endear him into you, so you melted into his touch.

You shook your head, closing your eyes, and sniffling. “What about you? How was your family?"

“Well at least I'm here with you and they'll be okay, at least they have each other too." Yes, at least you had someone you knew, yet also didn't that make it more difficult? He didn't ask about your family though, maybe if you kept a tally you'd feel less guilty by the end.

“Yeah, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have someone I trusted. I'm just so scared, Conway.” With that you'd erupted into tears and he pulled his arms around you. They weren't stiff, but weren't comforting, not that you really needed his comfort.

“It's okay, we've got each other."

You already hated yourself.

With that the automatic door slid open, but you didn't tear yourself away. You knew who it would be, but he wouldn't believe you if you jumped from him. So you slowly moved your hands to wipe your face and made your voice shake as you let out your sweetest, “Thank you."

He nodded eagerly, he didn't say of course but you could see it in his eyes. A warm, but brisk voice interrupted the moment. “Glad you've already decided to ally with each other, makes it much more difficult when the tributes won't talk to one another." Finnick’s honeycomb sweet voice finally drew your eyes to his.

“Yes, it's an easier angle to work with." A tall woman beside him agreed, you recognized her from the screens, Ondine Afron, she sounded more tired then you'd remembered.

“We’ll be your mentors, teaching you with our experience the best ways to survive, how to get sponsors, and whatever else could help." Finnick grabbed a sugar cube from the bowl by the teapot, examining it before tossing it into his mouth.

Yes and him being a mentor could throw a wrench in your plans. Conway had heard every bit of the emotional rollercoaster that had been Finnick Odair, how could you convince him you loved him instead when the man of all your affections was right there.

“Nice to meet you both." Conway said curtly, he let himself glare slightly at the other man. Usually you'd scold him for this, you weren't the type to want tension, but you needed him to trust you. So you leaned into his side, looking up at him as innocently as you could. Willingly him with every molecule to believe you and for Finnick to leave you alone enough to make your performance more outstanding.

Later that night when you'd wandered the train's halls in a nightgown with a softness like you'd never experienced before, you'd passed by Finnick who had nothing but praise for the plan we could tell you were hatching. Of course he could tell, he knew every morsel of your being.

“You're so smart, angel, the way you came up with that in a matter of seconds. Being good on your feet like that could save you in the arena." He'd whispered, softly above the mechanical noises your brain had hyper fixated on since your arrival.

“Don't call me that." You muttered.

He sighed, looking down, “I'm sorry. I'm just-"

“Yeah, I know."

“You know I'd do anything to keep you safe, even if I haven't always been able to tell you what and now I've failed, but here you are, I mean the way you manipulated your eyes like that was brilliant. The audience is going to be under your finger just keep doing what you're doing." Suddenly his hands were around yours, a movement so familiar it made you shudder.

“Finnick, please don't." You tugged your hands, half-heartedly, not really letting them escape his loose grip.

“I'm sorry, I know you don't understand why I hurt you, but it'll all make sense once you win this thing."

“Yeah, sure." You rolled your eyes, this was a tiring waltz between the two of you. Him claiming it was to protect you while you couldn't know from what, even now when you were on the brink of inevitable death.

“I promise." He stilled all his shifting and movements, sea green eyes boring so deeply into the depths of your heart there was no choice but to trust him. You couldn't help yourself and leaned in, delicately letting your lips graze his cheek.

“I have to go find his room. You know, do what I can." There was slight laughter behind your tone and Finnick nodded, softly smiling.

"My smart girl.” He muttered, glowing in the lamp light. I miss you, your brain screamed as you gazed at him, suddenly the tears you were trying to force up to sell your act were easier to conjure up. So you left him in the dim lights of the train car to convince Conway of how badly you needed his comfort now that you were away from home.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Secret wedding is all anyone can talk about." Your designer, Cambrie, sounded like bright citrus, drinking orange juice for breakfast. “Especially those seaweed rings, so bolstering for my ideas to run their course!" She smiled, clearly full of anticipation for her idea to be revealed to you.

Truthfully you couldn't care less about it, you wanted to be back at Finnick's side. As the years passed being alone with people from the Capitol no matter who they were or what they intended nauseated you. “Oh come on, Cambrie, I'm going to die of anticipation!" You proclaimed with as much drama as you could, pouting.

"Oh you're adorable.” She clapped like you were some sort of performing dog and pinched your cheeks, actually pinched your cheeks. The infantilization made you want to retreat but that would never be an option. “Reignbaugh was going to go with a fishing net to look for Finnick to pay homage to the District of course, and similarly with you I was thinking to draw it together, but the seaweed combined to call back to the rings. Everyone will eat it up, and oh I have a lovely pearl headdress you are going to be stunning!”

You gushed to her, but internally felt your stomach turn. This really meant she was going to try and show as much as you off as she could. Of course this turned out to be true. The outfit could have been beautiful if in reality it wasn't so dehumanizing. The seaweed running through the fishing net dress that adorned you barely covered your nipples and much of your body was clearly visible to those who stood close enough.

"And of course for the Capitol Princess.” Cambrie announced, placing her elegantly made crown, you had to admit it was beautiful. The way each pearl shined between the seaweed. Although you did think the seaweed usage was over the top, the choice of it for the rings hadn't really been significant, it was just there in a place you both loved. It was marketable though. Her and your other stylists had also gone to great effort to make your eyes look as watery as possible, even adding pearly effects to make it look like you were crying them. It was too all too much, but you oohh’d and awed which they adored you even more for.

“Don't you look handsome." You remarked all too sarcastically as you approached Finnick and his bare chest.

“Oh just smile and wave, angel, they're savoring the last time they'll see either of us like this.” It was lighthearted and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, but it did comfort you. Eventually your body would simply be yours again." There she is.” He whispered, your eyes followed him to her, Katniss Everdeen.

“Well you better go make your introduction then."

“Well ladies first." He gestured, expectantly.

“No, I don't think my first introduction should be like this." You pointed up and down the outfit. "You go, it'll seem perfectly on brand for you.”

Finnick nodded, you could tell he had more he wanted to say, to lecture on but there wasn't much time. You looked around the room, toying with the fishnet nervously before you heard someone call your name and looked in the direction.

"Didn't expect you to be the type with nerves.” A voice quickly caught your attention. Peeta Mellark.

"Only at the worst times.” You grimaced, shaking your head.

Peeta smiled, "Well I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who gets them.”

"Oh far from it, I bet you 75% of the people in here are trying not to throw up right now.”

“Which one's are fine then?" He stood by you observing the occupants.

“While obviously it's neither of us, I'm thinking District 11 too many years in for either of them to be worrying."

“1 & 2?"

“Bingo!" You announced, tilting your head.

“Surprised you didn't say Katniss." He remarked.

"Surprised you didn't say Finnick.” You countered.

"The thrills of pretending to not be shaking.” He shook his head with a smirk.

"Masters of that game. In fact she looks like she might just kill him now.” You tried not to laugh at how Katniss looked at Finnick who you knew was trying desperately to work his charms.

"Well, I'd best go save him then.”

"Oh, yes it would only be mildly entertaining.”

"It was nice meeting you, considering the circumstances.” Peeta exuded kindness in a way you could only aspire too, it genuinely hurt your soul.

“Yes, a mind numbing extravaganza thrown here would have been much more enjoyable, as horrendous as that is to say."

"I only ever attended one and just from that, I ever so gravely attest to that. I better go break the two up before she attacks.”

"Oh please do, can't have him squabbling already.” Peeta smiled and soon enough Finnick was stalking back your way.

"She'll come around.” He assured before you could even open your mouth as the two of you stepped into the carriage.

"I'm sure she will. Peeta and I could feel the tension from a room away.”

"Everybody likes me.”

"I'm sure talking like that is exactly why she doesn't.” You nudged him playfully.

"Oh shut up.” He rolled his eyes.

"That's no way to talk to your wife, Mr. Odair.”

“I apologize, Mrs. Odair." He pulled you in for a kiss just as the carriage came into the bright sunlight, the screaming proved its effectiveness to you. It was sure to leave an impact on them when they looked back on the tribute parade.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all again for your continued reading and support, especially since I feel like this is so slow paced but there's so much I want to get in there. if you enjoyed feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated, as always my inbox is wide open for any thoughts y'all have! so excited for getting into the training parts and some rebellion planning in the next part. love y'all so much, thank you again 💕💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @kybermp3 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair angst #thg #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick imagine #thg finnick #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick x you

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for not helping my family pay for hospital bills?

🎷🔥 so i can find it later

This is going to need a lot of context right off the bat. I (20'sM) am a gay man that comes from an extremely conservative family. My sister (20'sF) is also a lesbian and recently got married and adopted a child. I'm very proud of her, but that's not the issue.

My parents seem to have little to no issue with my sister marrying a woman. They do have a very big issue with me liking dudes, however. Like, it was the reason my parents got divorced "big issue." I'm not gonna go into everything, but my sister ended up with my dad and I stayed with my mom for reasons I'd rather not share.

Our last parting was on... less than decent terms. Upon finding out that I was of the homosexual variety, my dad flipped his lid. He called me several slurs and said some other very hurtful things, and even made moves to physically attack me. My mom, also a very homophobic woman, stepped in and thankfully talked him down. Then divorce, etc etc.

I saved up enough money to move out when I turned 18 and may have done some impulsive things including completely trashing my mom's bathroom, which I know I'm definitely the asshole for, but in my defense my mom kept "forgetting" to pick up my prescriptions and I was manic (I have bipolar). But, again, I know I'm the AH for that.

I now live with my two best friends R (20sNB) and P (20sM) in a house we all pay for. R comes from money so they help out a lot, and I love them both to death. We kind of have a sort of situationship but none of us are poly? Idk it's weird we're just going with it rn.

Anyway, I bring them up bc we all went to my sister's wedding together, and my parents separately chewed me out for bringing them (and for R daring to wear a dress. They're amab for context) and I obviously argued back bc hey they're my best friends and my sister specifically said it was okay for me to bring them (she and R are also friends and they wouldve been invited regardless of me bringing P) and also because R looks very good in a dress and i can handle them shit-talking me but i will not tolerate slander towards R or P.

At the wedding, I went full no contact with them and told them to lose my number. They, ofc, did Not lose my number and I got several calls from extended family saying about what you would expect them to say, so I switched numbers and gave only my sister and her wife my new number.

My sister. I love her to pieces but sometimes she gets on my nerves. She gives my number to my mom to have "just in case," but she reassures me that she won't give it to my dad or any other family. So far, she's made good on that promise, I just have to deal with periodic calls about getting a girlfriend and having kids.

Now, my dad isn't the healthiest guy out there. He has arthritis, osteoporosis, and several other things that i don't really wanna get into. As he's aged he's only gotten worse and there have been several times he's almost died, but recently he's been put on hospice and has an estimated Not Very Long to live.

Here's where I may be the AH. My dad calls me while I'm at a very important, personal event for R (he got my number from my mom) and goes on a long rant on how I'm an unlovable disgrace and how he fed me and clothed me and I could make up for all that by helping him pay off hospital debt. I say no immediately and tell him that he's never been my dad, only my dna donor, and that he's going to be dead anyway and that selling his house could cover all the bills. He calls me many more names and tells me he wishes I was never born (calling my mom some very derogatory names too (she's asian)) and that i should just go ahead and off myself to save the world someone like me. I tell him he should die faster while he's at it because God knows the world already has enough bigots in it and there could never be too many mentally ill queers.

I hung up, but now I'm thinking I went a bit too far. AITA for not helping out with his hospital bills and yelling at him?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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ask-the-rag-dolly · 9 days

Note

ok the askbox is open. im taking this opportunity to say ohhhhh im going crazy over the narrative constructed here. specifically with how audience (anon) interaction is intertwined with the main conflict.

because its like.. we are inherently a BAD THING. yes, some of us are actually malicious, but even if we do have kind intentions, and only want the best for ragatha.. just being there is a negative impact that outweighs any positives. we are a parasite, after all. and technically, the only positive action we could do is to simply.. stop engaging. leave the askblog alone. leave ragatha alone. except we could never do that, because we're too curious now, too attached- we want to see how the story continues, how it ends. we cant leave well enough alone, we just have to know. we need to know. so the cycle will continue nonetheless due to our nature. and we have to watch as our main character, the person we're rooting for, gets worse and worse. knowing that its our fault, because we're choosing to engage. we're choosing this path of pain. because we're curious, and that curiosity would kill us if we didn't feed it.

and of course its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things lol. no hate btw. im here enjoying it after all! though honestly i say that like this had any opportunity of existing outside of the askblog genre... or even the tumblr landscape itself- i feel like the anon feature itself is also a big part of this sort of narrative, as it allows those actively malicious anons to be even nastier. because it distances us from our actions. like.. we're given a mask, something that obscures our true identities (both to the other askers.. and to ragatha to an extent, as most all look the same to her. who knows, maybe that one supportive anon trying to cheer her up is the same one also encouraging her downfall! she cant tell!)- a thing that wipes our hands free of any consequences. a chance to become faceless and untraceable- so of course some people will indulge. be as horrible as possible. because, hey, its not like you'll be getting any consequences for it! no way to trace it back to you! no way to be held accountable! you can just sit back and watch the fire you made grow higher. more bright. thats the main goal, after all- to make a spectacle! to move the story along and make it exciting! thats the only thing that matters to you. that its entertaining. not the people you'll be harming in the process.

anyways sorry for the fucking. essay. in your askbox. i like talking and also i fucking love dissecting meta-aligned narratives like this. gggrrggrgrgrrrr chewing on this blog like a chewtoy. i hope everyone gets worse and this whole blog blows up!!!!!!!

i can't stop giggling at ' its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things ' . this was really originally supposed to just be a silly blog with little story but here we are . you really won't get this anywhere else

i get pretty happy when someone dissects this silly thing so no need to apologize !! i'm my own harshest critic when it comes to this blog so it's often difficult for me to grasp what meaning people get out of this lol truly thank you guys for wanting to see my insane , Unhinged ideas come through

and i love the dissection on the mean anons - a lot of this thing hinges on actions having consequences after all ! every little thing will have an impact on ragatha's mental state . i'll say i think the anons have potential to not be as harmful - as there was a point in the blog's time where they acted more like inner therapists to ragatha than reality-bending beings of chaos ( good times ) . it just really depends on being patient with an actually mentally ill person like ragatha - it does fascinate me how people's frustration with her echoes real life mental health situations .

but yeah thanks !!! i'll be kissing this essay and pinning it on the refrigerator that i call my brain (:

#[ ooc ]

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volturissideslut · 5 months

Note

Hii!! Can you do Jane x reader where she’s Jane’s mate but still human. One day some important information gets leaked out and everyone in the volturi thinks the reader leaked the info. (Aro can’t read her mind) So they question her for a long time and when she still says that she didn’t do it they make Jane torture her with her power. As Jane is torturing her someone walks in and says that she didn’t do it. By the time Jane stops the reader is passed out. Everyone and mostly Jane regrets what they’ve done. The reader doesn’t wake up for a few days and Jane is in absolute sorrow. And when she finally wakes up she doesn’t even look Jane in the eyes bc of the betrayal she feels. Just a lot of angst yk:))) Buuut they make up in the end. Thank youuu🫶🏻

𝕵𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

This is more of the aftermath than anything. Mentions of looking thinner

"Get out"

Though your voice was hoarse, it didn't lessen the impact. Not one bit. Jane didn't think it was possible to vampires to have panic attacks, yet what else could this be. Why was her chest so tight? She doesn't need to breathe. And though she can't sweat he skin feels clammy behind all her layers. She's a vampire, their brains go fast - she could finish a novel in five minutes, but this feels too fast. It's making her dizzy. It's making her sick.

"Please-" her mouth feels dry. Is she panting? Why does it feel like Felix is cracking her chest again? You two can get through this. You can move past this. The thought is the only thing keeping her semi-rational right now. "I can't even look at you right now. Please leave, Jane. I can't see you anymore" and god you look so broken. And she did it. Your skin looks sickly, at least seven shades yellower. And your eyes - so dull - are dragged down by the bags she gave you. Are you thinner? You look thinner, you look malnourished. Definitely unhealthy.

It's the shakey movement of your hand accompanied by a wince that pulls her from her intense observation. And she remembers what you want. She wants to stay - absolutely has to - but she can't ruin this even more. She needs to save this and even now she recognises that her being here will be detrimental to that. So she does leave.

Out the door, she sits on the floor and stares at the ceiling. Not that her eyes are recognising anything though. No. Her head is leaned back against the big double door to your shared chambers and all she can bring herself to do is listen intently to your heartbeat. You're still here. You're still safe.

You, on the other side of the door, can no longer bring yourself to stifle your own sobs at the betrayal. Your mate, your love, the one who promised to always protect you, had actually been the only vampire to hurt you. The only one you ever truly trusted. Though her gift is mental, the rough treatment had still hared you. But it was hard to tell what hurt more - the mental scar on the one on your heart.

Could you even stay?

Maybe it was time to leave

--------

That night you packed, leaving through the window. Were you as strong as them? No. But could trust Jane and be in the same place as her? Also no.

It was killing you just to be in that room, with all of them memories. All of them were now tainted, and now you could see all the similarities between her room and the dungeons.

Bag at your side mainly just filled with your previous belongings you couldn't part with, you climbed out the window only to be face to face with Alec. For fucks sake.

"You shouldn't be here," his tone was more concerned than accusing. Was he actually worried for you, though, or was he more bothered about his sister? that seemed like the more likely answer. "come. Ill walk you back" he takes the bag for you and begins to guide you gently back, hand delicately on your arm as if you were made of porcelain. He looked guilty. Remorseful even.

He led you back the longer way round as if he was giving you time. He even sat with you in the garden for a few minutes - until Jane cane storming through.

"There you are! Your heartbeat grew faint and the window was open and I-" and her hand are on your face. She stops speaking when you flinch back, heart dropping to her feet, until she feels you lean into her.

Damn mate bond and damn exhaustion because you let yourself fall into her. She can feel your heart rate speed up in fear but feels frozen when you make no effort to move away.

"Let's- let's get you to bed, yeah?" she turns her head, face frightened as she mouths a 'thank you' to Alec for keeping you here and safe. He just nods, head down as he shares part of her shame. A drop in the bucket compared to hers, though.

--------

Here she lay, back in your shared chambers, sat up against the headboard of the bed while you lay on their lap asleep. Icy fingers comb through your hair and scratch lightly at your scalp.

"We'll be okay, right? We'll be okay."

273 notes · View notes

ssplague · 16 days

Text

Chapter Four

Mature

Masterlist

Warnings: A/B/O themes, soulmates, mating, sex, manipulation, power and control.

Oh how can one’s feelings

spin a tale so profound?

For only true love shall

Determine whether darkness

Or light shall abound?

You were now queen of an earthland kingdom, you were married to the Dragon King, a mere princess no more

✨ 👑 ✨

“Gods for the millionth time, I’m fine! Why are you two so worried about this all of the sudden?!” Bakugou snapped, slouching further in his high backed chair.

It made him angry that he’d had to leave you like he did just to meet with these two old geezers! That combined with their repeat line of questioning had him growing increasingly furious.

“Now more than ever are your draconian instincts going to need regulating Katsuki, you can’t run the risk of letting them get the better of you, if you get upset and do something irresponsible like shifting accidentally, your wife could be in real danger” Jeanist reminds the soon to be king. It was frustrating for a decorated general like himself having to tip toe around the truth. A surprise shift pales in comparison to what those “in the know” truly feared happening. Both himself and Aizawa had made a promise to Midnight that they would advise Bakugou to the best of their abilities in order to keep tragedy from befalling the Royal family once more. If they fail, then what would remain of the kingdom would forever be condemned to suffer, and surely the young King’s soul would be eternally damned.

“You’re sure she’s your true mate? What does your dragon feel about her? If we’re satisfied with its response then we’ll dismiss you for tonight” Aizawa offers, yawning loudly before focusing on the young monarch. Closing his eyes, it’s easy for Katsuki to call forth his dragon and it needs no prodding to talk about you; “I knew she was mine as soon as I laid eyes on her, her scent puts the most expensive perfumes to shame, I’m growing restless, what importance are these stupid human customs when it comes to claiming my mate? I want to kill anyone that looks at her with lust in their eyes, and crush the skull of anyone harboring perverse thoughts about my goddess, she’s mine and im going to make sure she knows it,

y/n…my greatest treasure”.

“You harbor no ill will towards the lunarian princess? You do not despise the light that radiates from her pure heart?” Jeanist asks, studying the king’s form for any hint the dragon is thinking of uttering a false hood. “Dragon’s protect their mates, our love knows no bounds, our love is eternal, and unconditional…unlike you human’s” snarls the beast. “That’s good enough for now” Aizawa states, signaling for the king’s consciousness to return.

With a fierce display of teeth Bakugou returns, “There, are you geezers happy now?”.

“For now…but I think we should meet once more the morning of the wedding, and weekly after that” Aizawa says, looking at Jeanist for his approval. “I agree, just as a per caution-“ the finely dressed dressed man adds, only to be cut off by a furious snarl.

“I’m getting real fucking sick of you two insinuating I’m some loose cannon that would bring harm to my woman!” The irate blonde shouts, banging his sparking fist on the table “Ever since I returned home and told you guys about her you’ve been acting weird, is there something going on that I don’t know about?!”.

Both of the older men give each other a side eye, which only proceeds to agitate the temper-mental man further.

“For years I’ve respected you both for your knowledge and strength, that’s why you became my trusted advisors in the first place! That aside, I’ll tell you one last thing…” the dragon king gets to his feet, leaning forward on the sturdy oak table “If I find out either one of you has been keeping information from me, are aware of any conspiring, privy to any plot against my marriage or that could possibly bring harm to my wife…I will execute you myself…understand?”.

Crimson irises are alight with fury as they stare down the two men. Neither one of them display any emotion as they reply in unison;“Understood, your majesty”.

“Good, this meeting is fucking adjured…Tell the old hag I’m retiring for the evening” with that, the soon to be king storms out of the room, red cape billowing behind him.

Mate is safe, she’s here where she belongs, that’s all that matters…forget their words, the Thoughts and feelings of humans mean nothing when it comes to the bonding between dragons.

With a heavy sigh, Katsuki can’t help but agree.

The day before the wedding has you bombarded with last minute preparations non stop. You’d stood for nearly two hours as the capital’s best seamstress, accompanied by her assistant, took your measurements and quite literally crafted a dress (made from your ideal choice in fabrics) by magic. Naturally everything happening was seen under Queen Mitsuki’s watchful eye. Which allowed the two of you time to bond, the stories of her time as ruler had you looking at her with stars in your eyes. This woman was not to be trifled with; She was a warrior unlike any other, going as far as to ripping out the heart of an enemy general who had attempted to over throw her rule. You weren’t entirely sure how old she was, since it’s rude to ask (but dragons do live extremely long lives), she looked to be in her late twenties, and her mannerisms were every bit as youthful as her outward appearance.

“My son is lucky that the goddess has granted him such a perfect bride, and myself such a wonderful daughter” the older woman says as she marvels at your appearance in the finished wedding gown.

Examining yourself in every angle from the surrounding mirrors you can’t help but be delighted. You finally felt like you were coming into your own as a future queen, not just the daughter of the moon goddess.

As the day wound to a close you were finally dismissed from wedding preparations! Completely worn out, you couldn’t be happier to finally sit down for dinner. A table had been placed in your room to make things easier for the maids helping you get dressed tomorrow. A small spread of food rests atop it, along with four place settings for yourself and the three individuals you insisted dine with you.

“I don’t understand where Katsuki could have run off to, he’s been gone all day…I didn’t even get to see him off this morning, he left before I woke up” you glumly inform your new friends. Serro and Denki took Kirishima’s place in guarding you, as his majesty had apparently needed the bulky redhead for something. “You most likely won’t see him until the wedding your highness, he had plenty of his own preparations to see to” explains Serro. “You gotta tell us your secret on how you deal with him y/n, he’s been so weirdly calm ever since you came to stay” Denki states, tearing his bread roll in half.

“Well I hope to continue keeping the peace around here in the future, I’ll do my best….unfortunately I have no special secret, or method that I use on him” you reply with your usual polite smile in place.

“Not even your “womanly wiles”? Ow! I was joking Mina geez” the electric blonde cries, rubbing the knot on his head.

“Do you want to get executed? You idiot! You are talking to the new queen, if his majesty hears that kind of talk happening around her you are dead!” The pinkette scolds.

“I swear I won’t tell! We’re all friends here, right? No telling the king anything that won’t hurt him!” You exclaim nervously, “That was a hard hit you delivered Mina, how does a hand maiden know anything about hand to hand combat?”. The two men begin to snicker at your question, hiding behind their hands as the pinkette glares at them. “Actually y/n…I have a confession to make…I’m not a hand maiden, I’m the second in command of his majesty’s royal guard” Mina admits, giving you a bow and a wink.

“Wait…what?! Oh no! How rude of me to have been thinking you were my assistant this whole time! Oh goddess, what must you think of my ignorance” you fret, the other three watch you with amused smiles. “You didn’t treat me badly y/n! We’re friends remeber?” Mina asks, using your earlier words against you. “Yes, we are…we’re all friends! Regardless of station, you’re all my precious new friends” you say with a nod, dazzling smile back in place. The rest of the meal was uneventful, your guards tease you about tomorrow’s festivities until it’s time for you to turn in. The two males take their places outside your door, while Mina stays to brush out your hair. Once you bid her good night and get into bed you already know it’s pointless. Your mind and body are abuzz with excitement and anxiety, sleep won’t be coming so easily. Moonlight peeks in through the cracks in the curtains, you sit up noticing the soft glow growing brighter, the shadows shrink back as if they were being burned, the air in the room began to shimmer.

Without any warning a gorgeous woman materializes at the foot of your bed. Her long silver hair sparkles, her deep blue eyes twinkle, she wastes no time in coming to hold you close to her chest. “My sweet girl, so far from home…about to become Queen of this foreign land…my how you’ve grown up so much in such a short time” her voice is as beautiful as the sound of wind chimes in a summer breeze. “Are you proud of me? I’ve finally found my way” you ask, nuzzling into her embrace.

“I am always proud of you, that will never change” Selene responded, holding her princess tightly.

“I wish you could have met Katsuki before the wedding, I know it all seemed so rushed but words can’t describe how he makes me feel…It’s just right, I know it is” your words are rushed as you try to get everything out in one breath. This makes the moon goddess chuckle, your bottom lip begins to poke out.

“What makes you think I haven’t met him, hm?”

The question hangs in the small space between the two of you.

She motions for you to scoot over and she brings her legs up to rest atop your bed. Her hand begins to caress the top of your head once you’ve gotten comfortable with it laying in her lap. “How? When?” You ask, blinking up at her in adorable confusion. “The first time was about a year ago…the last was around six months ago” Selene says thoughtfully, “Before you get angry at him for not telling you, I used my power and swore him to secrecy, he couldn’t have told you if he wanted to”.

Just as you open your mouth to protest, she cuts you off;

“That story can wait until another day, you need to rest, tomorrow is an exciting day, your mind needs to be focused on the present”.

“You’ll be here tomorrow? From the time I wake up?” You ask as your eyes begin to grow heavy.

“After you get dressed I’ll come to see you, but I want to be seated well before the ceremony begins so I don’t take away any attention from you, we’ll have time to talk afterwards, good night my love” as soon as her words reach your ears you fall asleep.

“Your majesty”

You’re suddenly roused from the most peaceful slumber you’ve had in ages.

“Princess, it’s time to wake up”

“Mm awake…jus need a minute” you murmur groggily, yawning and rubbing your eyes.

“We prepared a light breakfast for you your highness, it’s on the table” says a maid to your left.

“Would you mind if we applied some oils to your hair while you eat? That way once you finish, it will be ready to wash out before you get in the bath” says the maid to your right, who places a robe over your night gown.

“Whatever you guys need to do is fine, let me know however I can help make this easier on you” you replied, shuffling over to the table that had a single plate amongst a number of other items. Unwrapping the silk scarf from your hair both maids lightly brush out your strands and set to work applying the conditioning mixture. It doesn’t take long to finish your toast, handful of grapes and swig down the cup of tea that made up your breakfast.

The same two maids usher you into the bathroom and you’re immediately reminded of that first day with Mina and Momo. Only you aren’t nearly as shy when you allow these women to exfoliate your entire body and scrub all your cracks and crevices. It was during that time each of them gave you their names.

“You have such a lovely complexion, it’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before!” Hakagure croons as she and Tsu finish drying you off. “Is it true you come from the moon, princess?” The green dress the dark haired woman wears reminds you of a frog’s skin. Especially with the off putting way her tongue seems to peek from between her lips on occasion. “Yes, that’s where I was born…” you replied, hesitating to disclose any more private information to these two women. So you skirt around any further personal questions, just replying politely to mundane small talk as they got you ready. Mina stuck her head in to check on you a little while later, and immediately took over the task of styling your hair. Demoting Tsu to polishing your now sharpened nails as she did so. Momo entered shortly after that greeting you and giving congratulations before handing you a silk bag.

“Ooooh let me see!” Mina squeals as you examine the contents. Reaching in you grabbed out what appeared to be a scrap of lace, confusion had you looking further into the bag and upon further inspection your face burns with embarrassment.

“You‘ll change into them after the ceremony!” Ponytail assured you “Those things are for his majesty’s eyes only, so don’t feel embarrassed”. The pinkette snickers, waggling the hair brush at you, “I’ll help you put them on

y/n don’t worry!”. The other two women laughed along with her while Momo berated them for such childish behavior. The memories of having the king pressed up against you the other night immediiiately came to mind.

“Treasure…”

Just remembering the way he sounded growling in your ear as he ground into you against the wall. It had a flush crawling up from the tips of your toes to the roots of your hair. “I need to tell you guys something…so I can ask some questions…and I hate how this will sound so commanding…” purposefully using the repeat pause between words to build up the nerve you needed, your eyes briefly close. When they reopen any flicker of insecurity or hesitation was absent, the e/c irises now sparkling with confidence,

“As your soon to be Queen I demand that any part of this conversation is not repeated outside of this room, is that clear?”.

A cheerful chorus of “Yes, your highness” comes from each of the women helping you get ready.

A relieved sigh allows you to relax against the high backed chair you occupy, “I’ve never had any sort of intimate encounter with anyone, let alone anyone of draconian descent sooooo…What exactly am I supposed to do? How will our um…how will he? Oh goddess you lot know what I mean right?!”. So much for the cool, calm, collected persona you’d channeled seconds ago.

MoMo clears her throat in attempt to hide her embarrassment, “Ahem, well my lady if I may, since you are looking for pointers on how to go about consummation-“

“Bite him!” Mina interrupted.

“Scratch and growl at him!” Hagakure exclaims.

“Stroke his ego” Tsu offers.

“Ladies please!” Momo shouts, the other three are still tittering with laughter as she clears her throat once more “Now as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, when it comes to consummation in our culture”.

Now that her mediative hour had concluded Midnight gets to her feet, stretching her limbs to combat the soreness from being stationary for so long. Extinguishing the incense she’d been burning, the dark haired woman moved across the room to push back the heavy drapes and throw open the large floor to ceiling windows. Inhaling a large breath of fresh air, she savored the taste of spring on her tongue. The oracle was optimistic, her cheery disposition had been favorable as of late. Eyeing the dark purple slip and black robes she planned to wear for the days festivities, she began to get ready.

Only for a sharp rap on her door to interrupt, her cheeks puff out in frustration as she hurried to answer it. The two men on the other side don’t wait to exchange pleasantries as she allows them entry.

“How did your talk with his majesty go?”

The difference between the two men was always similar to that of night and day. Today however, it could be considered comical; With Jeanist in his perfectly pressed dark blue General dress robes adorned with shining silver metals, matching cuff links sparkling brilliantly. Standing tall beside Aizawa in his black Dress robes with a few obvious wrinkles but equally decorated with badges of honor, his tattered scarf ever present around his neck. The latter speaks first; “The king was more on edge than usual, I’d chalk that up to pre wedding jitters, the beast-“.

His companion is quick to take over the explanation, “The dragon gave the same answers as we reported the other night, I detected no treachery or malicious intent, to be honest it seemed preoccupied…possibly a bit bored”.

“So it’s thoughts were elsewhere? Where might that be, my lord?” asks Midnight from behind her changing stands, an airy chuckle reaching their ears. “I hardly think it’s up for discussion if there was no indication of hostility towards the Princess” Jeanist replied in a clipped tone, but professional as always. Stepping out in her new outfit, the oracle grabs a black ribbon off her vanity and moves towards the dark haired man.

“Since you will be amongst the audience you’ll get a chance to see the two of them interact, we can rehash our individual thoughts after the ceremony concludes” Aizawa says with an annoyed huff as Midnight pulls his hair back, tying the ribbon around his messy locks.

“I agree with that, now which of you is escorting me?” Her violet eyes fluttering as she smiles at the men, even though she knows the answer.

Jeanist opens the door, gesturing for the Oracle and Advisor to go ahead of him. “Don’t forget to lock it!” The woman calls as she tosses a key towards the sharp dressed man. Heeding her request, Jeanist shakes his head as Midnight’s patronizing giggles echo down the hallway.

“Are you nervous?”

The question comes from one of the two older women sitting behind you. It was strange to see Selene and Mitsuki enjoying a cup of tea together in this setting.

Both beautiful in their own right, two powerful women, one a queen of this earth land kingdom, and the other a queen residing over the moon that oversees this blue planet from the heavens above. It was the moon goddess herself that had made an offhand suggestion that perhaps Mitsuki would be able to trace her lineage back to the warrior queen of Mars. They both chuckled at this, and watching their exchange you can’t help but wonder if there just might be truth to her claim.

Seeing them get along so well made you feel at ease.

“A little” you admit, examining your reflection in the mirror for the umpteenth time “But listening to your banter has made it easier to relax, you two seem more like old friends rather than two women who just met the morning of their children’s wedding”. Both women looked towards each other before looking back at you with smiles on their faces. Almost like they knew something you weren’t aware of.

“Maybe Goddess Selene will bless us mere mortals with her presence more often now that you’re here” Mitsuki’s voice had a slight teasing tone about it, and you could swear your mother had the slightest flush to her cheeks.

“Careful what you wish for, what if you were to grow tired of my constant intrusions? Then I’d have to give you twelve years of bad luck” Selene replies, as quick witted as ever, yet her tone held no malice.

“Mother!” You squeaked, shocked she would even joke about such a thing. The two older women laughed at your reaction.

“Well I suppose I should go check in on Katsuki, I haven’t seen him yet today” the blonde woman says as she gets to her feet.

“You haven’t seen him at all?” You ask confused.

“That boy is a nightmare to deal with when he’s preparing for an important event, one could hardly blame me for preferring the company of two lovely celestial ladies over the company of my foul mouthed brat” she replies, patting you on the back as she walks past. Only to pause at the door and glance back at Selene, “I’ll meet you in the foyer in fourty-five minutes?” She asks.

Your mother nods and the two of them hold eye contact for a few seconds before the blonde woman leaves the two of you alone.

“How long have you known?”

The question is sudden and quiet.

The goddess sighed before answering your question,

“After you fell asleep last night she came to your room and sought me out, I just found out”. You merely nod in response, now wasn’t the time to confront her about it.

“You look so beautiful, I’m happy that you followed your own path, I raised a perfect young woman” Selene comes to stand behind you, wrapping an arm around you.

The both of your reflections smiled in the mirror, “Oh no! I forgot to ask you-“ your sudden exclamation was hushed by your mother “I have it”. The shimmering piece of selenite appeared in your hand, it was crafted into a perfect crescent shape, a small gold hoop stuck through the top. “Thank you momma” you gushed happily “It’s perfect”. “I have one more thing to give you” she replied, moving towards your dresser. She brought back a small stone box with a large moon on the lid, ancient inscriptions were carved in on all sides proving its age.

“This belonged to my great grandmother, and now it’s yours”

The handsome (albeit grumpy) king readjusted the gold chain and fang necklaces around his neck for the umpteenth time. An annoyed growl rips from his throat as he takes the smaller few off. Looking back In the mirror he nods, now sporting only the largest golden chain and his newest piece made from the fangs of the ancient dragon he’d slayed recently. The Royal jeweler had just delivered it this morning, along with a few other pieces that Bakugou had also requested be made.

“Very impressive your majesty” Kirishima says with a flash of his own fanged smile. The red head and three other members of the king’s personal guard lean against the wall of Bakugou’s bedroom closest to the door. Just the five of them occupied the room, the servants that had tried assisting the temperamental Royal at getting ready had vacated the premises a long time ago.

“Looking a little nervous my king” Kaminari says offhandedly.

“Not getting cold feet are you?” Serro is quick to add, both men smirking at the king’s now obviously ruffled feathers.

Katsuki whirls around on them with clenched teeth and fire alight in his eyes, and just as he opens his mouth to begin a ferocious tirade, the bedroom door opens.

“You clean up well brat” Queen Mitsuki teases her son as she enters the room “Would you four give us a moment, it’s about time for you to take your places”.

A chorus of “Yes your majesty” comes from the four knights as they single file out of the room.

“Here it is, the day of my first and only son’s wedding…The day you will become king in more than just words, this land will be not just your’s to rule but your Queen’s as well” the blonde woman comes to stand before her son, “I know your father is proud of you, and I am just as proud of the man that you have become Katsuki”. The way his mother wraps her arms around him comes as a surprise to the king, he is still quick to return her hug just as tight, mumbling a soft “Love ya mom”. When the two of them separated the older woman dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress, “Don’t you dare hold this against me, I’m probably going to be bawling more than once today”.

“Wouldn’t dream of it hag”

“So much for a sentimental moment between mother and son, you brat”.

“My lady, it’s time” the voice of a servant alerted you. Taking one last look at your reflection, the glittering tiara atop your head fills you with new confidence. The magic that flowed through your veins even seemed to be amplifying thanks to the treasured heirloom. You had to walk yourself down the aisle, which would mean that every eye will be focused solely on you. Remembering that you are a representation of the lunarian kingdom, you were sure to stand tall and proud, walking with the utmost grace. Exiting the open door, a beautiful burgundy rug has been laid out over the grass, leading down the sloping palace grounds, between the many rows of occupied seats. Excited whispers began as everyone turned to watch you walking down the aisle.

“Absolutely stunning!”

“Is she really from the moon?”

“How beautiful our new queen is!”

The compliments only made you more reassured in your self-confidence. You look towards where the rug ends, seeing steps leading up a raised platform and your heart skipped a beat. The Dragon King stands waiting for you in all his glory; His usual fur lined cape is draped over his shoulders, tribal ink snaking up his impressive biceps, that unintentionally flex as his arms are crossed in front of his chest. The golden chain around his neck glitters, drawing your attention to the second necklace he wore made up of black beads and large jagged teeth. Somehow you manage to keep yourself from hurrying forward. Each step you take is slow, and meaningful and once you finally reach the bottom step Katsuki reaches a hand out to you. Which you take and return his firm grip with a squeeze, allowing yourself to be led up the remaining few steps. He resembles something like a demigod, with the way his blonde hair shines in the sunlight, surrounding his head similar to the halo of an angel. Both of you smile as you take in the appearance of one another, quick to become lost in each other’s eyes. The priest clears his throat and it puts an end to the stupor you two were seemingly caught up in.

“Today marks a momentous event that will forever change history; A bridge between heaven and earth, the joining of celestial and terran, the blessed union between our Dragon King and the Lunarian princess” the elderly man says, pausing to allow the applause and cheering of the crowd. It was nice to see the few hundred or so people seated in chairs closest to the raised platform, but it was astounding to see all of the hundreds if not thousands of people, along with magical creatures, crowded in to the castle grounds. Those that didn’t fit were seated atop the heads of dragons, enabling them to watch the ceremony despite being behind the protective walls.

Turning your head away from the crowd, the squeeze of the grip on your hands has your eyes flitting upwards. Looking into Katsuki’s eyes was like being swept up in a harsh current. The priests words were immediately garbled nonsense, you were drowning in a sea of red. The veil over your face fluttered in the wind, and the king says something aloud.

The smile he gives you has you feeling weak in the knees.

“Princess Y/n”

The sound of your title has you standing at attention, listening to the priest’s words intently;

“Do you take King Bakugou Katsuki as your husband? To have and hold through good times and bad? To stand beside him and rule this country to the best of your ability as a queen and wife?”.

“I do and I shall” you replied confidently, squeezing the large hands holding your own.

“Then by the power invested in me, witnessed by all that are here, I now pronounce you husband and wife” as soon as the words were said the veil was lifted from your face and Katsuki was kissing you. The kiss was deep and breath stealing, you could feel the desire and happiness in it. Cheers had broken out all around the courtyard, the roars and shouts echoing from all around the kingdom. Just as your lungs began to burn from lack of air did the kiss finally end.

“I now present your new King and Queen!” Announces the priest, holding his arms open as he declares this to the crowd.

The events that followed all happened in such a rapid procession, it felt like you were wrapped up in a sort of whirlwind.

You remember receiving hugs from both Mitsuki and your mother, but after that it was just a bunch of congratulations, well wishes, and handshakes from a variety of strangers. It was only once you were ushered back into your bedroom that you could take a moment to breathe. Sitting down on the soft bed everything had started to sink in; You were now queen of an earthland kingdom, you were married to the Dragon King, a mere princess no more. Speaking of which, you hadn’t gotten a single moment with your husband, the kiss at the altar was the only one you’d gotten thus far. He hadn’t said a word while you two were being bombarded by the gathering well wishers. You hadn’t even been able to give him your present…

Fishing the selenite out from your cleavage, you sighed. Without warning the door of the room burst open and in came Mina and Momo.

The latter holding three champagne flutes, while the former clutched a half empty bottle.

“Congratulations y/n!” The pinkette cheered, hugging you happily.

Kicking the door shut behind her, the dark haired woman strides over gracefully, offering you one of the flutes, “How about a toast before we help you get ready for your special night?”. “Ah yes! That would be lovely” you smile, taking the glass as you get to your feet.

“To our new queen, and beloved friend y/n! May your marriage be happy and the fires stemming from undying love as well as passion never extinguish!” Mina exclaims and the three of you clink glasses.

Laughter proceeds only after you’d each drained your respective glass, along with Momo giving Mina a hard time about her ridiculous toast.

True to her word, Mina had indeed helped you Into the garments from that silk bag.

You couldn’t bare the embarrassment as you peeked at your reflection in the full body mirror. The two women had made sure to bathe you throughly once again. “The king won’t react well to anyone else’s scents on you during your bonding” Momo had explained, as you gave her glove covered hands a strange look.

They rubbed you down with a slightly vanilla scented, shimmering body oil (Apparently it was close to your natural scent, according to Mina). Now you were standing in the middle of your room skin glittering, clad in what was essentially scraps of silk, with dragon scale accents that hid your nipples and pussy (barely). Just as you were downing another glass of champagne, the girls pulled a thin, floor length black cloak over your shoulders. Making sure it was secured before placing a cape over your shoulders. “A gift from the King” you had been told. The outside fabric was thick and white while the inside was a black velvet, and a black fur made up the collar. It was almost just like the one your husband always wore. Your helpers made sure everything was fastened to keep any of your unmentionables from slipping out.

Just as they both stood back to admire you, a loud knock could be heard on the door. “You’re all set! You look lovely your majesty” Momo smiles. “Remember everything I told you! Especially that last bit! Just relax It’s going to be great, no worries!” Mina reminds you cheerfully as the two of them accompany you out of the door.

Kirishima was standing there waiting to escort you with his usual smile in place, he offers you his arm. Taking hold of it, the knight begins to usher you down the hall, both ladies cheering until you rounded the corner. “You look very nice my lady” the red head compliments, keeping his eyes forward but still smiling all the same. “Thank you…” you appreciate the compliment but the nervousness you felt grew with each step forward.

Finally reaching the end of the hallway, its down a short staircase and the knight opens a door for you. Another exit from the castle you weren’t aware of. The breeze is gentle, and stars are beginning to twinkle in the twilight sky. You see your mother and Mitsuki talking to Katsuki, who immediately looks towards you as you walk across the grass. His intense gaze has your face heating up, and if both your mothers weren’t standing there he probably would have pounced on you. Once you come to stand beside the three of them your king takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it “Ready to go?”. The spot his lips touched sends tingles throughout your body, all you can do is nod in reply. “You two have fun” Mitsuki says while pulling you into a hug.

“Mother, I thought you and I-“

Selene interrupts you before giving a hug of her own, “Plenty of time for that when the two of you return, enjoy this special time with your husband”.

You don’t have time to argue due to the sudden appearance of a familiar red dragon waiting just a few feet away. Bakugou bids your mothers goodbye and scoops you up bridal style. He doesn’t set you down once the two of you are seated, you stay in his lap as Kirishima takes flight. Katsuki groans as takes in your scent, nipping and kissing the sensitive flesh “Been waiting for this moment all day, could hardly wait to get my hands on you”. One of his hands slips beneath the cloak to run up your bare legs. Your toes curl as he squeezes one of your thick thighs, he doesn’t miss a beat when engaging you in another passionate lip lock. Your fingers lightly caress his cheeks before running them down to his pecs.

Your tongue tangles with his when you finally feel yourself slicking up.

The wetness between your thighs reminds you that a thin string is the only thing there to catch any drips, and you’d rather not leave a wet spot on your new husband’s pant leg.

Breaking the kiss, you rest your forehead against his as you catch your breath. “My king…I’m sorry if I may not act like a proper lady tonight, I hope that come sunrise you won’t hold any of my actions against me” You say with a sigh, moving your head back to properly look him in the eye. A blonde brow is raised before a sinister smile appears on the king’s handsome face, “oho is that a challenge or a threat? my queen”. Your eyes catch sight of the slivers of sharp canines in his mouth, and your gaze lingers on them as you quietly reply, “It’s neither…I just don’t exactly feel like my usual self right now, not to say I’m someone else but my feelings are unfamiliar and overwhelming”.

Gently you reach for one of his hands and guide it towards your chest, laying it over your heart.

A sudden shyness comes over you, and looking up at him with innocent eyes you enquire, “Do you feel it?”.

Unbeknownst to you, Katsuki had been able to hear the pitter patter of your heart this entire time.

How adorable, it’s just like a bunny that’s been cornered by a hungry wolf

He can’t help but agree, his hold on you becomes impossibly tighter.

Eliminating any space between your bodies, he cradles the back of your head in a large palm. Guiding you to rest it in between his neck and shoulder. “S’normal to be nervous treasure, because after tonight you will be a different person” your king presses a kiss to your forehead “Just relax for now, it won’t be much longer until we arrive”. Something inside of you feels as though Katsuki’s voice has this underlying nefarious tone to it. An abrupt shiver shoots down your spine, in attempts to soak in the natural warmth that radiates off his skin you’re quickly wrapping your arms around your lover.

The wind is always a bit cooler at night, especially at this altitude. That explains where these continuous chills are coming from.

Right?

A/N: Something I didn’t call attention to at the end of last chapter; If you read the prophecy laid out in the prologue, and compare it to the version that Izuku reads during the flight in chapter 3 you’ll notice quite a big difference! Just to explain that in case anybody didn’t catch onto it; Only a few people in the kingdom were made aware of the complete prophecy that Midnight spoke of. There was a heavily censored version that was put out to the kingdom’s general public and it’s regarded in a celebratory way. So much so, the people turned it into a nursery rhyme song for children. This is because they remain ignorant to the other half of it. The version they know only speaks of the king finding love and that the kingdom will in turn be blessed and forever remain prosperous.I felt this was important for me to explain, just so nobody is thinking “This bitch is so dumb she can’t even remember words that she wrote three chapters prior 🙄”.I would hope none of you think that negatively of me 😅 It sure doesn’t seem that way but just Incase! ❤️‍🔥 So any thoughts or theories as to what’s going on or going to happen?

Thank you all for every like, share, comment and follow!

Honorable mentions 💌

@lalachanya @mrsmelaninhood

@whatdidshesayyy @faemagic88

@viridianhero @alishii @rv19

@maggiecc @crazy-eight17 @nnubee @nemisimp @yesitsmewhataboutit

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha #dragon bakugou #dragon king bakugou #bnha fantasy au #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader

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emlovslennon · 4 months

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omgg last night I dreamed about supeeer cute soft dom george being very affectionate and giving making love to reader making her forget all her insecurities whispering in her ear a lot of worship, it's my first request and don't speak English very well but I'm here hehe love ya!

GUYS IM ALIVE HOLY FUCK BALLS !!! Anyway HEHEHHEHE evil laughter back to my mischievousness (mental illness). Also I LOVE YOU TOO

Era: 1965 cuz i feel like it

Audible moan.

You had been feeling extremely insecure ever since you got back from the opening of the the Beatles new movie, “Help!” You saw how in the newspapers they were saying incredibly cruel things about you, especially about how tight your black dress was when you wore it to the premiere. It was, “Name the Beatles wife with the worst taste?” Or “That dress certainly doesn’t look flattering on her!” Like it was some joke. You felt tears brim your eyes just thinking about it. You’d constantly look in the mirror and pinch at your stomach and thighs, you just couldn’t understand why you couldn’t be as beautiful as Jane or Maureen or Cynthia.

“Love, I’m back! Love? What’s wrong?” George said, he had just gotten back from a meeting about an upcoming album, so he unfortunately couldn’t take you along since it was a private meeting, not a public one. You were laying on your shared bed crying, with a newspaper at your side. The one that completely wrecked your self esteem. George caught on and picked up, in complete anger, he ripped the newspaper up and threw it in the trash.

“Absolute bloody rubbish! I hate those damn newspapers, y/n, come ‘ere love.” He said, quite angry, but gentle once he called your name. He couldn’t believe someone could say that about his wife. He thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. How could anyone not agree? They must be blind.

“Love, don’t listen to those bloody bastards, you are the most beautiful and lovely woman I ever laid eyes and have ever met. If they don’t believe that, then they must not have eyes.” He whispers in your ear, playing with your hair. Your tears at this point subsided and you looked up at him, he gave you a grin and kissed your forehead. You know this probably wasn’t the best timing, but you just couldn’t resist when he looks at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

“George, could you maybe show me how beautiful I am?” You say quietly, George winks at you in a joking manner and wiggles his eyebrows which make you giggle. George slowly positioned you to get you to lay on your back while he slowly got on top of you.

“I mean it when I say you look stunning in anything.” He whispers, playing with the hem of your black night gown, it was short and only went down to almost the end of your inner thighs. He looked at you for permission and you nodded, as he slowly lifted up your night gown, leaving completely exposed. You usually didn’t bother with under garments when you were going to sleep, you just didn’t feel the need for it.

“You amaze me every time, y’know that?” He praised, as his hands went to your breasts as he pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless. George lifted himself up to take off his black long sleeve shirt and the pair of black pants he wore with it, as he went back down to kiss your neck, he hand slowly wandered down to your core, lightly rubbing causing you to whimper. George grinned at the sound, George loved nothing more than when you made noises for him, he doesn’t even really care when it comes to him getting off it’s just as long as you do he’s good.

“Can I?” He asks, his fingers nearing and circling your hole, you nod frantically as he giggles at your reaction, he slowly inserts two fingers into you. You bite your lip and throw your head back into the pillows with the intrusion. But you couldn’t lie, his fingers do wonders. He slowly thrusts them in and out as he watches you whimper and moan, he usually never goes fast unless you tell him to, he’s just never really been that kind of person. Whereas someone like John is the complete opposite.

“F-faster, George!” You moan out, causing George to kiss and suck on your neck harder than he did before as he went faster, your juices starting to seep down to the sheets as the noises coming from your core begin to echo through out the room. You felt the tightness and heat in your belly about to burst and you knew that only meant one thing.

“George-I’m-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you felt as if you were sitting stars as your orgasm hit. George never wanted to admit it, but he absolutely adored when you orgasm your a shaking and moaning mess for him, you look absolutely wrecked just from his fingers.

“Are you ready? Do you need a minute?” He asks, one thing to note about George, is that he is huge on consent, he would never, ever, do something that you didn’t like or something that he thought could hurt you. It would break him into a million pieces if that happened.

“Yes, please!” You say shakily, George nods as he kissed your forehead, slowly lining himself up and entering you.

“You’re always so good for me, always. No one could ever compare.” He whispers lovingly, kissing your earlobe as he slowly thrusts in and out of you.

“Your noises are to die for, you are to die for, i can’t get enough of you.” George loved praising you during sex, he always took pride in doing so.

“G-George, please.” You whisper, George looks up at you, with a questioning face.

“Please, faster! Please!” You moaned out, George gave you a smile and kissed your cheek as he went faster, but not too fast, just slightly faster than the pace he was going. You moan out as he brings his fingers down to your clit and rubs circles round it, making your legs shake. You could feel your orgasm getting closer and creeping up on you like it was the grim reaper.

“George! Im gonna cum, please!” You cried out, all the worry, sadness, and insecurities you were experiencing early had completely disappeared. They were nowhere to be found. George always managed to make your worries and fears go away, it’s like he was magic. But to be fair, he pretty much was.

“Aw, come on pretty girl, cum on me, go on.” George groaned, feeling his own orgasm creep up on him, and before you know it, it wasn’t before too long both of you came together. You were shaking and moaning for quite a bit even after he pulled out and kissed your face all over. George laid on his side and brought the covers over both of you.

“Did that make you feel any better?” George asked, his hand holding yours, you look up at him with a smile.

“What was I upset about again?”

THIS WAS KINDA CHEESY BUT WOOOOAH I LOVED IT

#classic rock #classic rock imagines #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #the beatles #the beatles x reader #60s #george harrison x reader #george harrison smut

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the-s1lly-corner · 8 months

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*explodes into your request box*

HEY HEY HEY, im back.

Came to ask an platonic Child!reader with the rest of the gang.

BUT HEAR ME OUT

Child reader is like an wolf in sheep's clothing, like reader has an cute expression on their face but when someone tries to touch them, they'll go like: "touch me and ill rip your hand off" in a full innocent voice and that cute smile.

And child reader has shark teeth.

Tyy!

*explodes*

- 🦭

The cast x child!reader (platonic)

throwing this together after waking up from a really nice nap! i still have the kinger request to work on but my brains still stumped.. sobs.. requests are still open by the way! you can find the link to my rules in my previous post, or you can look in my pinned! :O apologies if some sections for the characters are a little short, my brains still a lil okfvokffvovf from waking up TToTT

CAINE:

a child? in the circus?

he doesnt quite know how to make of it, i mean... its not like he has to make any accommodations, the circus is a place for all ages afterall!

i give you this new concept: dad caine

lightly scolds you when you threaten someone, bad manners!

i think he would be like a stereotypical eccentric dad

in house adventures seem to tone down just a touch so theyre not too intense or dangerous for you, keeps an eye on you to make sure you dont get stuck anywhere or flung across the room

rip bubble, you probably pop them when theyre within a foot of you

pinches your cheek only to have his hand comically chomped off ("now now (reader)! what did i tell you about biting! time out!)

POMNI:

similar confusion that caine has, but like, more so

how did a kid even get their hands on one of the headsets??

honestly i think pomni might be the type to be uncomfortable around kids; she doesnt hate them she just doesnt know what to do with them

also kids can possess a different kind of cruelness when they really put their minds to it and shes already in a mentally precarious position as it is

she doesnt avoid you though!

was bitten a grand total of one times, she made the mistake of trying to take you somewhere during an IHA and she didnt make you aware that she was going to put her hand on your shoulder

JAX:

okay you cant swear in the circus, but i feel like jax has some very creative ways to work around that, making these new colorful euphemisms that dont skip out on the crudeness. he teaches you some of his favorites just to watch the world burn

lightning fast reflexes, should you try to bite or hit him; not that hes going to try to put his hands on you

actually

i can see him picking you up via scooping his hands under your arms, or literally just holding you up by the scruff of your next

congrats theres now the image of jax holding a flailing sheep child in our heads. his shins will be kicked in the second you get put down

thinks its funny when people have to do double takes when you let out a threat or say something dark

RAGATHA:

i think she would be a cool babysitter, or big sister figure to you

similar to caine she will lightly scold you when you're being 'rude'

doesnt try to figure out why you dont like being touched, also respects it. respects your space as well, she doesnt totally baby you

she is a little sad that a kid so young got stuck in the digital world, though

even if you could remember things, i dont think she would ask out of fear of possibly upsetting you

likes making you little things (small pillows, plushes, ect) since i can see her being into sewing.. might be because shes a doll, though

KINGER:

i said it once and ill say it again, kinger is dad. like i already hc he had kids before getting stuck in the digital world, but i also like to hc that he and gangle have a dad/kid relationship, at least when kinger was less... paranoid

like he still has the capacity to be a father figure to you, but i think with you being a little... ermrmfl.. he might be a little put off

tells you stories about "being a king" (ie embellishing the one time he was put in charge during an IHA ages ago) and tells you about some previous in house adventures

youre so short he genuinely doesnt see you approaching sometimes so he either gets jumpscared by you or literally trips over you on accident

is so so apologetic once he gets over the initial shock of suddenly meeting the floor

really if you follow this guy around and show interest in his interests hes gonna adopt you

he knows your threats arent empty, even if they arent hes not going to try to find out

ZOOBLE:

zooble seems like the type of person to find some vague amusement in kids swearing or saying out of pocket stuff, i cant explain why

cant teach you swear words thanks to the censoring of the digital world but hey... they can still spell it out...

honestly i hc that zooble themselves doesnt like being touched so hey you dont have to worry about that, they personally get it

cool older sibling energy. while ragatha gives off sweet n caring older sister, zooble gives off the energy of a cool older sibling who like. idfk skateboards or something

zooble skateboarding real

not much else to say here

GANGLE:

similar to pomnis but this is more so because gangle is intimidated by other people thanks to her shyness!

i think gangle would be in the same boat as you and zooble, in terms of touching, but in gangles case its because shes made of ribbon and thus can be pushed around very easily

would cry on the off chance you snap at her :(

she lets you into her room sometimes to let you draw with her! kids like drawing right?

thats her reasoning, at least

i mean hey, it gives you something to do and gives you a break from all the chaos

actually pretty okay when her comedy mask isnt broken, actually makes an attempt to properly get to know you and crack a few jokes

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader #caine x you #pomni x you #jax x you #ragatha x you #kinger x you #zooble x you #gangle x you

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r0tten-ruzt · 2 months

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why do you support will? /genq

There's a lot of proof against Shelby really

When she accused him of locking him in his house was when he didn't have a house

There's pictures of wilbur looking drained and bruised when he was with shelby when he was with her but none of shelby

Shelby has been actively anti-recovery saying people never change and also several ableist statements

Shebly Has supported people telling others to do horrible things

Wilburs 'apology' wasn't an apology or admiring anything. He said he was shocked by it and even stated that he thought the biting was consensual which it seemed it was being that shebly said they had a safe word for it

Right before the allegations came out shebly was being accused of being a p3d0 and also at the same time wilburs new single came out which not only might be about her but there's one song where you can hear a voice that sounds like her screaming insults

Shebly constantly milking the situation, dragging it out and actively trying to deplatform wilbur

She said she said at first she 'didn't want to name names' but made it very bloody obvious it was him

The statement from sheblys cousin (idk if it's confirmed yet) saying they witnessed shebly abusing wilbur

How shebly is throwing under the rug the death of what I think to be 6 kids who've taken their lives due to harassment

Some smaller things that threw me off where her saying "this year has been crazy thank you for 1mil subs" and trying to make money out of her new found fame. Also her seemingly ignoring male abuse victims. How many people who were close to wilbur are still following him and probably know something is up but wilbur usually waits until situations calmed down to talk about it. Sheblys very childish behavior in blocking anyone who objects her and brings up asking for proof. Also her blatant naraccistic behaviors.

Also it was unnecessary for shebly to bring up the ant infected house or messy rooms. Messy rooms are caused by bad mental health and ant infections are common in Europe i myself have one in my house as well.

There's sososos so much I could go on about but that's the main stuff of why I support wilbur. She lacks proof and evidence as for wilbur has stayed quiet but has more proof of his innocence. Thank you for the question^^ anymore and ill be glad to answer as well as try to find source material for it if I can find it again (I probably can it's all over wilbur support groups) I apologize for any bad Grammer or misspellings it's very late for me😭😭😭

#wilbur soot #wilbur support squad #dont like dont interact

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the-witch-of-one-piece · 8 months

Text

Dia De Los Muertos 18+ Taiju Shiba x Fem Reader Halloween Collab: 31 days of Horror w/ @fuyuswifey Resident: @enchantedforest-network Masterlist WC:2.7k TW: Angst, N/sfw, death, illness, making out, Fingering, slight masturbation, Penetration, Taiju being rough, orgasm,pet names, breast sucking, hickies, creampie, suggestive language and suggestive them (unedited) MINORS DNI

“She is late again..” He looked at his watch as it was close to 6 o'clock. Sticking his hands in his pocket he took off of work early to celebrate something that meant something very special to you. He never celebrated something like this before. Taiju walked to the glass shelf in his living room where a photo of his mother was placed. Looking at the photo for a moment a sudden rush of memories from his childhood came to him. The way his mother smiled, how soft her voice was, or the way she made his favorite dishes. When she became sick he wouldn’t let anyone see his weak side trying to be strong for his parents and his younger siblings. As he saw his mother's illness becoming worse he was mentally preparing himself for the worse. In a matter of weeks, his mother was gone from his life. All the emotions he had in him were locked up and never released. He never spoke about how he felt when his mother passed to anyone. He was hard on himself and his siblings at a young age. His father constantly works endless hours to provide for him and his siblings. He had to be the man of the house and he had to admit he wasn't a pleasant teen, his hardcore demeanor and ego getting the best of him. They all had their issues of being a dysfunctional family that they overcame as they got older, and periodically they would check up on one another as they got older.

Taiju picked up the photo of his mother, walking back with it as he sat on the couch. Thinking about if she was still around things would have been different. But that was a dream that would never come true. He heard the door knob jiggle and turned his head to see you open the front door “Sorry I know I’m late but I went to the store before going home.” you placed the bags on the floor as you closed the door.

Taiju saw the bright orange flowers along with a few other items. “You know it’s just me and you right? Are you expecting more people?” he raised his brow looking at the items than you. “I know but all this stuff is necessary! Help me with the bag please?” giving him a smile. He placed a photo of his mother on the coffee table as he got up to help you with the bags. Taking them into the large dining room. You had a table that was empty you were going to use. Taiju saw how you began to decorate the table placing items in certain areas making it look as aesthetic as possible. He had some idea of what Dia De Los Muertos was and what it stood for but the little things with the flowers and the mass amount of them piqued his curiosity. “Why marigolds?” He picked up one of the orange flowers twirling it by the stem.

“Marigolds are traditionally the flowers used for Dia De Los Muertos. When you pair them with just the right candle they say the spirits can find their way back into the living world to see their loved ones on this specific night.” plucking the flower from his hand “you can feel the presence when they arrive it's like a sudden rush of comfort. That’s how I could explain it.” Taiju, hearing you explain it, was a bit skeptical. You were more open with your feelings and emotions compared to him. The saying opposites attract applied to you both when you guys started to see each other. You tried to make him open up more but you didn’t want to push him too. He hardly talked about his family to you since you could tell it was a topic he wasn’t comfortable with. But all you knew was his mother passing at a young age, his father always working and him having two siblings younger than him. In your bag, you pulled out a photo frame. Taiju looked over your shoulder to see the photo of your parents. It was a photo of their wedding day. “My mom said this was one of the best days of her life, she was marrying her best friend,” you remembered your mother's words. Every time she looked at this photo she would say those same exact words every time. Taiju saw the smile on your face begin to fade the more you looked at the photo. “She is now reunited with the love of her life.” you tried to shake off the sadness you were displaying hiding it with a smile. You placed their photo on the decorated table. “Do you have your mother's photo?” you asked him. “Yeah let me grab it.” He walked back to the coffee table picking up his mother's photo and bringing it back to where you were. He placed her photo next to your parents. “Your mother is beautiful.” you looked at her photo. Taiju’s sister Yuzuha took a lot after her mother.

“Thank you.” in his pocket he pulled out something that belonged to his mother, he kept it with him since he was a kid. It was a necklace she would often wear. She gave each of her kids something before her passing. “This necklace was given to my mother by my father when they first started to date.” He placed the necklace right next to her photo. He missed her, he wished he had her for a bit longer in his life. You grabbed the match as you began to light the candles next to their photos. “What memory do you have of your mother that is special to you?” you asked him. You tried to pry a bit to see if he would respond. He stood silent for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to respond to your question. He let out a low sigh. In that time frame of you asking him the question he was thinking of one specific one. “I don’t know how old I was but I remember I didn’t want to go to school this was before she was sick.. She took Yuzuha and Hakkai to school and daycare. She ended up taking me to the Aquarium. It was empty in the Aquarium since it was a weekday with each exhibit in the Aquarium she would pronounce each fish in the tank and point them out….” he stopped for a moment then proceeded to speak “I remembered just being amazed she knew them all….she promised me she would do this again with me…..” he took a deep breath “but then she got sick...” his hands in his pocket as he looked at her photo then at you. You could sense that memory held a special moment for him. “Your mother would be proud of you Tai. You worked hard to get where you are for everything you have. You accomplished more than most people.” You reached for his hand. Taiju smirked, “Thanks, there is more I want to accomplish in my life but it will come later on…”

“You have your whole life planned out it seems.” you teased him. “Not all of it… There are some areas in my life that I’m still trying to figure out.” Taiju yellow orbs looked down at you. “Like what?” you blinked a few times. “Me and you, I'm still finding out so many things about you that I wasn’t aware of. Getting to know you more and more of you” he placed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, Tai there is much more. You are just getting a taste of it.” you chuckled he gave a low smirk sound. “Hopefully you would do the same. I want to know more about you.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked. “I… I want to know how you feel at times or what you are thinking about….” doing a dry swallow before continuing to speak “I noticed you don’t really let your guard down even when we are alone. I’m not sure if you think it's some kind of weakness to do so, I don’t think it is. We have been together for some time now and being a couple we should be open with one another. I want to continue growing our relationship strong where we can come to one another whenever.” “Is that what you want?” Taiju looked at you. “I do more than anything,” you responded with a bashful tone. “You will have to give me time on that… I can’t do it all at once with a snap of a finger.” He had to make that point clear. “But I will try.” his hand reaches the top of your head bringing you a bit closer, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. You had a bit of a relieved smile on your face. “Thank you, Tai.” A few moments passed before Taiju got a whiff of something he hadn't smelled since he was a kid. The perfume his mother used to wear. Something came over him that felt what you described earlier: it was comforting and relaxed his body. ‘She is here’ looking at his mother's photo. He wasn’t expecting her presence to be this strong. It hit him like a tidal wave. He closed his eyes and he got the image of his mother. He couldn’t hear what she was trying to say but he could read her lips. ‘I’m proud of you Taiju.’ his eyes shot open. It was becoming too much for him to handle all at once.

You saw he looked a bit distressed “Taiju what's wrong?” you asked him. “I just… need some air, I’ll be back,” he said. He walked away towards the backyard.

You watched him head towards the backdoor. You assumed he felt his mother's presence. It would take him a moment for him to let it sink in. The cool brisk air hit him as he stepped outside. Lighting a cigarette to relax his nerves he kept replaying the image of his mother in his mind. All those years of blocking his emotions he couldn’t keep blocking this one. After the discussion he had with you that happened. “Fuck.. Is this your way of getting me to open up to ______, Mom?” He looked at the sky as if he was waiting for a response from her. After about 30 minutes Taiju came back in, he took a seat in the living room. When you heard the back door closed you walked into the living room. “Tai? You okay?” you walked towards him. “I’m fine.” he looked at you, his hand was extended out to you, and he brought you to his lap. “What you said earlier... I felt it... I hadn’t felt her presence since the day she passed…it was a lot to handle…” “I see.. Tai, I know she is still watching over you even when you think she is not. You may not feel her all the time but she is there.” you gave him a soft smile, and your fingers ran through his hair.

He nodded “It gave me more conformations on what I want in my future.” he brought you closer to him. “What do you want?” asked him softly you looked into his eyes then his lips then back at his eyes. “You will have to stick around and find out.” Taiju’s hands rested on your hips. Both of you leaned as your lips met, you could taste the cigarette he smoked just a few minutes ago. Your arms drape around his neck as he pulls you closer to him, pressing you against his large chest. His tongue dominantly invaded your mouth. His hands roamed your body, his hands sliding up the hem of your dress touching your exposed soft skin. You nibbled on his bottom lip playfully would earned you a low groan coming from him, his hands found your panties pushing them to the side. “Such a good girl you are.” His large finger began rubbing between your damp folds. The moans spilled out of your mouth. “How does that feel? Do you want me to continue?” he spoke in a deep voice that was low. You nodded at his question. “I need to hear you say it. Come on, I know you can.” “Yes Tai~~~please continue~~~ mmmmmm” You were focused on his fingers. As he was making you squirm in his lap. You gripped his shoulders. The bulge began to form in his pants. You couldn’t help yourself as one of your hands began to rub his encaged cock. “Fuck.” he grunted as your hand continued to rub his clothed cock. “Tell me how bad do you want my cock deep inside you?” Taiju needed that bit of control at this moment as he slipped his finger into your wet cunt. “Shi~~~ mmm….” you couldn’t respond at that moment as his finger pumped into you. “Really bad Taijuuu~~~” the moan lingers as you get to his name. “I want your cock in me~~~ please give it to me~~~” your glossy eyes looked into his.

Hearing that desperation in your voice as you begged for his cock was more than enough for him. He slid his finger out from your moist warm cunt. He undid his pants letting his large thick cock out. The tip of his cock was damp due to the precum as you were rubbing him. You felt his tip rubbing against your pussy. Grazing against your throbbing clit. He continued to tease you for a moment. “I want you to look at me as my cock slides into that tight pussy of yours. You began to lower your hips as his cock began to penetrate you. “Don’t you dare close your eyes baby girl.” he let out a husky moan. You followed his orders as you kept your eyes on his. Your pussy was throbbing a bit as you were able to fully have him inside of you. It took you a moment to catch your breath. His hands rested on your hips as he began to help you move up and down his cock.

“Taiju~~~” You moaned slightly, rocking your hips back and forth.

Throwing his head back on the couch “ Yes baby girl?” holding you steady. “Are you enjoying yourself?.” He pushed his pelvis up a bit more and he was pushing you down a bit harder. The slap of your skin began to fill the room.

“Yes Taiju shit you're making me so wet,” your juices were sliding down his cock.

Taiju slid the traps of your dress down exposing your breast. He began to suck on your breast switching back and forth leaving hickies traveling up now to the neck leaving the same love bites. He loved leaving his mark on you. “Fuck I love you so much” his hand resting on the back of your head bring you to his lips as he began to kiss you hard.

You couldn’t even say it back as his lips were dominating yours. The string of saliva broke you both separate from one another trying to catch your breath. Your forehead rested against his. “I love you Tai~~”

“Say it again” He moaned louder, moving you faster as he gripped your hips tighter. The intense sensation in his lower abdomen approached he wasn’t going to last much longer as the sweat trickled down his brow. You weren’t going to last much longer either.

“I - love you, Taiju Shiba.” You moaned the phrase over and over. Your body began to shake as the sudden rush of your orgasm approached. “Fuuuuccccckkkkkk!”

The way your pussy constricted as your orgasm hit around his cock his hot seed shot in deep he pressed your hips down all the way on his cock as he let out a loud animal-like moan. He clenched his jaw tightly and poured every ounce of semen he had in his body into you. Only so much was able to fit into your cunt as some of it began to seep out from inside of you running down his own cock. Taiju's sudden rush was coming down his grip loosening on your hips. The look of satisfaction hitting his face as he his hand reaching for your chin brings you closer as placing a gentler kiss.

Tags: @the-haitani-baton, @satanlovesusall666, @galactict3a, @ratlovecat, @niko-ash, @iluv-ace, @captainmycaptainn, @strawberrychrome, @missgab, @anxious-chick, @livefromraleigh, @kei-b-gurlll, @spookiisopium, @bontensbabygirl, @txna04, Interested in joining the taglist please fill out the form below to get a notification of your favorite characters when they are being posted! Link here ->taglist

#taiju shiba #taiju x reader #shiba taiju #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #taiju smut #tokyo revengers taiju #halloween collab #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev smut #tokrev

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fallingdownhell · 1 year

Note

hello! i was wondering if i could request a poly cyno x reader x tighnari where the reader is going through a tough time and is kinda burnt out. maybe where she tries to brush it off, but the boys catch on pretty quickly and then they comfort her? anyways, i hope you have a good day/night!!

-🌹 anon

Hey! Of course you can!<3

I don't have anything against poly ships, I do in fact have a few of them myself. Have I ever written for one? No, but I sure want to. Hope it turned out okay.

Thank you so much for your request, 🌹 anon

Content: poly relationship; written with fem!reader in mind, but can also be read as gn!reader; mentions of mental illness; self doubt; burnout; much comfort from the bois

Word count: 1,8k

Hope you enjoy reading<3

You were tired.

Your days studying in the Academya left you more drained than anything else lately. Although you were a good student, diligent and often praised by your professors, that didn't change anything about the heavy workload you put on your shoulders.

The days seemed to last for an eternity, while the nights were over far too quickly. You never felt like you got any quality rest.

While one of your boyfriends, Cyno, kept a close eye on you and made sure you took care of yourself, the other suffered extremely from the lack of contact with you.

You haven't really seen Tighnari for a few weeks, except for his one day visits to Sumeru city when he was in need for new materials. He would make it a point to visit you, but you were still so focused on your research, that you didn't spend much time with him.

Same with Cyno. While he was often times with you in the city, he rarely got to see you anymore either. Well, that's wrong. He did see you, but was the time spend with him? No, it wasn't.

You kept telling youself and your boyfriends that this was only a temporary issue, that you would soon be done studying in the Academya. Then you could finally give them all the attention that you have deprived them off until now.

And yet, two months after your last conversation with your boyfriends about this issue, there were still no signs of it getting better anytime soon.

You were working yourself to the bone, day in and day out. So it was only a matter of time until the stress would get to your head, poisining your thoughts.

You began to think about all the times you neglected Cyno and Tighnari, how you didn't even keep in touch with Tighnari back at Gandharva Ville via letters. He probably only heard about you through Cyno, meaning he had to rely on his words.

You couldn't help but feel bad, ashamed and guilty.

Your head then began constructing this idea... this terrible idea of your boyfriends. About how they started to resent you. For neglecting them, for focusing on your studies instead of them.

Thoughts began to bloom within you. Hlw they probably hated the idea of seeing you again, hating you in general.

Your hand that had been writing on a paper until a few moments ago, began to shake as silent tears began rolling down your cheeks.

You wanted to believe that it wasn't true. That this was just the stress getting to you...

But how could you, when it all made perfect sense? Of course they would feel this way.

Now that you thought about it.. you haven't seen Cyno at all the last two days. He usually came by every day, even just to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.

But... nothing. He didn't show up at all.

And as you realised that, the thoughts only became louder and more convincing.

'They already started separating from you, silently..'

'They feel they're not important to you...'

'You are no good partner to them..'

Those thoughts began to flood your mind as you set down your pen, tears continuing to fall down your face. That night, you cried yourself to sleep, as these negative thoughts kept pestering your mind.

...

The next day, Cyno saw you walking within the walls of the Academya and immediatly noticed that something was wrong with you.

He saw your red, swollen eyes and knew that you must have cried yesterday. The reason for it he might nit know, but that didn't matter. It was obvious that you needed him right now.

So, he talked to the Matras, gave them their orders and then set out to find you again.

He found you in a quiet corner in the house of Daena, reading some kind of book related to your studies, while you occaisonally sniffled and rubbed your swollen eyes.

Cyno approached you quietly, sitting down on a chair across from yours, his eyes fixed on your exhausted form.

You jumped a little, not expecting any form of company to disturb you. Once you recognise Cyno, you relqx a bit, but quickly tense up again, remembering what had happened the day before.

Cyno, of course, noticed that shift in behaviour from you.

"What's going on?", he immediatly asked, not wasting time with chit chat.

"What... do you mean, exactly?", you answered, trying to deflect, making it seem like everything was fine. Which, you failed. Because even if Cyno wasn't the best with feelings, he was perceptive.

"You cried. I can see that with only one look at you. So.. what happened?"

At his words, you wished to just slap yourself as you realised that you forgot to put on makeup, so that you could hide the obvious bags under your eyes. But that would have been only one part of the problem, anyway.

"Oh.. nothing much. Just... stressed."

"Stress? That's all?"

You nodded, not being able to look your boyfriend in the eyes. You knew that if you did, he would immediatly figure you out. Little did you know that by avoiding his gaze, he worried even more.

"You're hiding something from me.", he concluded. You sighed, but didn't give him anything further to work with for a few minutes. Then..

"It's just.. the stress is getting to me. To my head, exactly. It's been... a lot.", you told him in a low voice, not wanting to say anything more.

To your surprise, the next thing Cyno did was to just silently, without another word, stand up from the table and walk away. You didn't see were he was heading, but that didn't matter to you.

All your head needed, was right there. Your boyfriend walking away from you when you would have needed him the most.

You could feel the tears welling up again in your eyes, but this time, you forced them to stay in, not wanting to cry in broad daylight in front of your fellow students. But going home wasn't an option in your head either, so you tried to swallow the hurt and continued your studies.

Little did you know though, that Cyno was walking straight to the Acting Grand Sages office, not bothering in the slightest that he had just interrupted a seemingly important conversation with some other sages.

Alhaitham looked at him with his usual stoic expression, while Cyno explained the situation to him, requesting for a two weeks vacation for you amd himself.

After a few seconds of considering, Alhaitham signed it off, handing the documents to Cyno, whishing him the best of luck. Having achieved what he came for, Cyno headed back down to were you were seated before, glad that you were still in the same spot.

He approached again, but this time, you noticed him. And he wore an even more determined expression than he usually did.

"Cyno? What are you-!"

You got interrupted as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of your seat and after him, waking his way towarsa the exit of the house of Daena.

"Hey, stop. Where are we going?", you asked, weakly struggling against his grip.

"Visiting Tighnari.", he said.

"Wha.. but I can't. I still have to-"

"You don't have to do anything. I requested some time off for the both of us, and Alhaitham approved of it. We are going on a vacation, because Archons know that you need that, (name)."

After he said that, you were in no place to argue against him anymore. Your resistance against him grew less and less, until you completely stopped. He, in return, loosened his grip on your wrist a bit, but still held you tightly to him.

He made a stop at his and your house, to gather some stuff, mostly clothing, before you made your way to Gandharva Ville together.

The walk was mostly quiet as you were trying to figure out what to make of it. You were sure that they must hate you at this point, yet Cyno's actions clearly indicated the total opposite.

As you arrived at the base of the forest watchers, Cyno spotted Tighnari in front of his hut, talking to some other forest rangers.

The fox immediatly picked up on the scent of his two lovers as soons as you two entered the village. But he also instantly knew that something was up. He could sense that you were upset about something amd Cyno was worried about you.

He made quick work of the matter with the forest ranger, and as they began to depart, Tighnari already spotted you and Cyno walking towards him, so he waited there for you to.

"Hey..", he said in a soft tone, immediatly pulling you in for a long and loving hug as soon as you were close enough.

"...", you didn't say anything as you hugged him back tightly, which confirmed his assumption that something was definitely not right.

He looked over at Cyno, who motioned for them to go inside, which Tighnari gently coaxed you to do so with them.

"Do you want to talk about it?", Tighnari asked as you all were inside. But you didn't feel ready for that just yet, so you just shook your head slightly, gaze fixed on the ground.

"All right then..", you heard from the fox and the next moment, you were suddenly in the air, as your lover had picked you up and walked over to the bed.

The next moment, you were placed on the soft mattress, ine of your boyfriends on each of your side. You were completely surrounded by them, and suddenly, you felt safe.

Like a heavy weight has finally been lifted from your shoulder, and you could feel a single tear run down your face again.

Tighnari, who you were facing, brought one hand up to your face, softly carressing your cheek. He slowly leaned in, kissing you on the forehead.

In the meantime, Cyno, who was laying behind you, slid on hand down your arm, intertwining his fingers with yours once he reached your hand, as he slowly started to place light kisses on your neck.

In this moment, you felt so loved and cared for by your two boyfriends, you had no idea how you could have ever doubted their love for you.

You couldn't controll your tears anymore and you just let everything out that you had been holding back.

For the next few hours, you three just laid there, cuddling with each other, while Cyno and Tighnari whispered sweet and loving words to you.

You may not be able to talk about your troubles quite yet, but you knew that with them by your side, everything would turn out okay in the end.

Because you had each other. And now there was no doubt in your mind anymore..

... they did love you with all their heart.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact comfort #genshin comfort #genshin impact ship #tighnari x cyno #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #genshin impact tighnari #genshin impact cyno

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mrsnancywheeler · 6 months

Text

the lakes (5) // finnick odair x f. reader

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.3k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcoholism bc haymitch is there, brief drinking, allusions to death and violence, rebellion planning, allusions of trafficking/sexual trauma, wanting children, mentions of birth control and class divide, terms of endearment, mental illness, manipulation of someone's feelings, self-hatred, mentions of nausea and allusions to puking, reader being utterly enamored by Finnick, unedited, no use of Y/N

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀��𓂃⠀𓈒

Harsh wind made your body shake and Finnick immediately wrapped his arms around you. How he always felt like a furnace was something you'd accepted you'd never have the answer to and you gratefully relaxed into him.

“Oh look, I just happened to run into you two on the roof, a happy couple just relaxing while they still can." Haymitch's voice pierced the air billowing around you.

“What a coincidence.” Finnick took a step closer to where Haymitch was approaching.

"Gives us a perfect chance to talk about allies though.” Your voice was loud enough that if anyone was listening they would be sure to hear your completely pure intentions with a mentor right before everyone's voices conveniently took the octave and pitch down.

“After this there's not opting out, so I need to know that you're 100% on board. You could be killed if this gets found out." Haymitch fiddled with his flask.

“We're already going to be killed, at least this way there's a chance we can stay together and end all of this." He stood close enough now that your soft voice could only be heard within the earshot. Finnick squeezed your hand softly.

Haymitch nodded, “Beetee is in on it too, so is Wiress, but who knows how much of a help she'll be. Plutarch can give us insight into small things before the Games start, but the main point will be finding away for enough chaos to happen that we can get Katniss out of there.”

“So our job is to get her to trust us, protect her and Peeta so she sticks to the plan that will get her out." Subconsciously Finnick began tapping his fingers on your waist and you rubbed your thumb in circles across his hand to try and soothe whatever it was his mind was running on about.

“Yes and we might need to find a way to force that because you weren't doing a great job on that, darling. I can't blame you though, she can be quite difficult.” Haymitch took a swig from the flask, you could only imagine how burning cold the metal must have been. Then he was pointing at you, "The princess here might actually have more luck since in an ever so contradictory way she's less gaudy.” Finnick scoffed. "She'll just have to get over preconceived notions first which isn't usually easy. Going over tributes though the problem would be you as a package deal, so we might have to find a way to force her to ally with everyone anyways.”

Slowly, Finnick nodded, “We should tell Johanna, she'll definitely be determined even if she doesn't get Katniss’ trust right away."

Haymitch laughed slightly, “Oh I think she's already left quite the impression." You could only imagine what Johanna had done and you smiled, her blunt attitude had immediately drawn you to her and it helped that her strategy was slightly similar to yours as far as the tears went.

“You go, it'll look like you're trying to figure out alliances and not be as suspicious, if they are watching." You kissed Finnick's cheek and reluctantly pushed away from his comforting arms.

"Okay, I'll be back soon. Don't miss me too bad.” He began stepping away so slowly as if he wanted to stay too, which you couldn't imagine why you had to have made his internal heater freeze with every touch.

“Oh I already do." He smirked and you walked over the cement bench, patting on it as Haymitch sat down by you. He held his arm out, offering the flask he was holding. You thought about it for a second, but accepted the offer. Earlier assumptions were correct, the metal was so cold it burned the lips right before the alcohol did. “What is that?" You scrunched your nose, handing it back to him.

Haymitch chuckled, shaking his head. “One of their wild, Capitol creations." He shrugged slightly, the idea of carrying a drink around that you couldn't even name just to numb the pain made your head ache for the victor. “So you tied the knot away from all the pomp and pageantry?"

"They can't have all of me.” Even if they have most of me, went unsaid into the crisp night air. Your body, your tears, what you could give, the raw, violent parts of you forever memorialized for eternity. Now parts of the private ceremony would be exploited, but the moment could never, only the parts you chose to reveal. It was yours.

“Good for you." He took another drink. “They can only take so much from us, they have to know this was bound to happen." You hummed a yes and reached your hand out which he filled with the cold flask, you took another drink that stung your throat before returning it.

“I don't know how people can have kids when the world is like this." You muttered, looking out at the city below. So badly you wanted a family, Finnick would be a great father, but it seemed impossible to fathom when at any second, for years on end they could be ripped away to be publicly executed for entertainment. If they even managed to survive, horrors lay beyond that, you would never wish for your children to live in a world where they went through what you did.

He shook his head, “Desperation, extra hands, not everyone has fancy Capitol provided ways to prevent pregnancy, Princess."

"Yeah.” You were all too familiar with that. Rich men rarely wanted the possibility of a kid running around with a second-class being even if she was a victor and you took every precaution possible as the fear ate you up inside. They could steal away your body, your intimacy, how you felt with yourself, but if you did escape all of this the only kids you would be having would be yours and Finnick. You wouldn't let them own you in that aspect too. “She's lucky she and Peeta came off as such a strong case of star crossed lovers, it's saved her in and out of the arena. Saved both of them.” Blankly staring at the stars, too beautiful to shine on such a cruel world.

“That she is. My so-called defiance lost me everything, everyone and she managed to be so popular that they couldn't do that. It's why we stand a chance, princess.”

You stood up, "I'd wish you a goodnight, but that rarely happens.” You smiled, sadness tainting your eyes.

Haymitch shook the flask, "If it works right, I won't remember a thing.” He said it so sardonically it weighed down your very being. This is what the Capitol did to its child winners, fractured them into being blackout drunk to dodge the nights full of horror.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You sat on the hallway floor, it's carpet itching your skin as you sat there, head on Conway’s shoulder.

“The outfits were so ridiculous, dressing us like prize pigs." He seethed, “Not you I mean though, you didn't look like a pig, the blue looked nice on you-" Conway started rambling to make up for his initial words and you pressed a finger to his soft lips.

"I know what you mean.” You smiled, so softly it looked enamored with his stumbling. It was cute, but not like your Finnick's sureness in all he said. No, not your Finnick, not anymore he was just Finnick, the mentor, the guy from the past. Oh, how you craved his touch, the smell of his salty skin, the sound of his honey like voice. You scolded yourself, now wasn't the time, it couldn't be. You couldn't risk Conway being able to tell if you were thinking about the other man, as if he could somehow read your mind, nevertheless it was too risky.

“Thank you for always understanding me, you've always been so sweet since we were children, it's what made me want to be your friend in the first place and then-" He paused, then your lover is what he was holding back. You knew this, his sister had told you once back when you were with Finnick, how jealousy was eating Conway’s sweet soul alive. “Then made my family love you too."

It was like an arrow in your heart, you weren't sweet, it was more harrowing that he thought so. Your brain encouraged you to persist even though the echoes muttered back how much you should loathe yourself. “No, you're the sweet one. Always covering for me." You shook your head, keeping the smile glued on your face. His hand was suddenly on your chin, trying to guide you in. His fingers were slightly calloused but there were no sparks, like when Finnick even brushed his atoms into the same vicinity as yours. You leaned in slightly, eyes searching him as if you wanted to know if he really wanted this, of course you knew the answer though. His lips pressed themselves to yours, he tasted just as he sounded, like strawberries and you did like strawberries of course, but not as much as a raw honeycomb.

Just as quickly he pulled away, “I'm sorry." Conway’s voice spilled out, “I don't know what I was thinking, I know you still have him and all, I just I don't know." He shook his head, rubbing his face with his hands, combing them through his hair anxiously.

“He's a jerk." He was, but in the best and worst way. “I don't know what I saw in him." You shook your head, sadly staring at the carpet. Urging the tears to present themselves to help cover your lies because you knew exactly what you still saw in him, his humor, his protection, the warmth, and the absolute love and care he exuded with each look, each graze of his fingertips. “Especially when-" You acted like you were getting choked up on your confession, you disgusted yourself.

Conway’s fingertips were tilting your head back up to him once again, “Really?" His eyes were eager, so innocent. You had to stop your resilience from breaking, from halting the whole operation. “Do you really mean that because I have for so long and please be honest?"

You were nauseous. Trying not to start gagging on nothing as you nodded. "Of course I do, I just didn't see what's been right in front of me.” He kissed you again and it was overwhelming your senses. Not in the way Finnick did which made you buzz, in a way that made you want to run. When he finally pulled away you forced yourself to let out a sly smile as you began standing. "I'll see you in the morning, we should sleep before all the training tomorrow, making impressions with the other tributes.”

His smile was shy and his eyes were basically begging you to stay with him another night, to hold you. It would certainly help your plan, but you couldn't. It was already too much and you needed senses knocked back into you before you broke. "Goodnight, sleep well." Conway whispered, slowly letting his fingers part from yours as he turned down the hallway. You'd been just outside of your room so you walked to it and opened it right before closing it to make it sound like you'd gone in before making a beeline in the opposite direction for Finnick's. Vainly trying to hold back the dry heaving.

Ever so softly your fists knocked on the door and almost instantly it was open, like he was waiting, like he knew you would be coming. Before another second could pass you'd thrown yourself into the protection of his arms and were weeping.

“I'm a terrible person." You choked out as he carefully shut the door with his foot, wrapping his arms around you even tighter like a blanket.

“No you're not an angel, it's survival of the fittest." He kissed the top of your forehead burying himself in it.

"Oh God, I'm gonna be sick.” He instantly led you to the bathroom where you were in fact. He didn't leave you though, he pulled out some medicine to soothe your stomach and head. Handing you a glass of water as he soothingly had his hand on the top of your head, stroking your hair. Once you've finished he was brushing your teeth for you.

It should be pathetic to have someone doing that for you, but not when it was him just trying to keep you secure. “Gotta open wider, angel." He was diligent and precise before helping pull you up from the edge of the tub to the sink. “Okay now spit. Let's get you into bed, sweet girl."

“Thank you, I'm sorry." You muttered out, voice raspy.

“Don't ever be." His warm hands tilted your chin up in a way that melted you into his touch like sugar in tea. “Look at me. You're doing what it takes to survive, which you deserve to do, I'm just doing what you deserve." Your Finnick could make you fall into tears every time, healing the patches of the broken heart you had from the way you were using Conway. “Let's get you to bed." He began to walk out of the bathroom and you softly put your hand on the one trailing away.

"Finnick.” Your voice was tender but the air was so stagnant it felt booming to your ears. He turned to look at you, worry evident. "Can I stay? Please?” Finnick smiled so sympathetically it made your head feel better, like it would float away instead.

"Of course, my love, you can always stay with me, I'll always stay with you.” As you crawled into the sheets that he'd of course emanated his soothing heat onto you knew it was true. Just as you knew you'd always stay with him.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading! literally y'all's comments make my heart so happy and my passion for continuing to write this skyrockets, you are all so incredibly kind and supportive 💕 as always if you enjoyed feedback, likes, reblogs, comments are all so appreciated and my asks are open bc I think about this series all the time. I love you guys and thank you again sm 💋

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #thg #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair fanfic #finnick imagine #thg finnick #finnick x you #finnick x reader

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