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theywhowriteandknowthings · 5 months

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The Princess and The Duke - Chapter 7: Tempest

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact. Specific Warnings: Descriptions of r*pe and SA of a minor(reader) (past, it's brief and non-gratituous), a whole lot of gaslighting, angst, Parental abuse, Coersion, drinking, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, heartbreak, stepcest(in bold, this is *again* heavy on the issues around this), Manipulation/gaslighting, traumatic childhood, parental neglect, angst, grief, regret, depression, Strained parent-adult child relationship. Let us know if we missed anything! Word Count: 8.1k (It's a long one!) [Read on AO3] Thank you once again Hemmy (@angelofsmalldeath-codeine) for the hard work in getting this written with me! No tag list for this one, it's a sensitive one.

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Dread forms in the pit of your stomach as you descend the stairs, your fingertips tremble on the banister railing. You linger by the basement door, a pang of yearning constricting your chest as you long for something you shouldn’t.

Then you hear it.

“What is taking her so long? She hasn’t run off again, has she?”

You can hear the contempt dripping from Nancy’s tone, but you haven’t let that bother you for years. No, what bothers you is the way your father laughs along, like it’s all some hilarious joke he’s in on.

“Always was one to run out when things didn’t go her way,” it’s like a slap to the face, hearing him belittle you, make light of all those times you ran out. As if he was there, as if he’d seen first-hand why you’d fled from the one place you were supposed to feel safe.

You step into the kitchen without a word, Nancy and your father are sat on the near side of the breakfast counter, their backs to you as they continue to titter like school children. Dave’s head snaps up, face almost unreadable. But you know that look in his eyes, the slow simmer beneath those deep, amber-flecked irises.

Dave is livid.

You shrug and smile at him, but you know that’s not enough assurance for him, not really. He knows you’re hurting, and you know it kills him that he can’t help. Not for the first time, you’re realising that the only time you’ve felt safe, respected, and truly at home since returning to Texas, was with Dave.

It kills you to know you can’t just fall into his arms and seek the comfort you have been missing these last four weeks. You almost wish you had stayed, that you could have pushed down your feelings and let things play out as they had.

He can’t even bring himself to smile at you or do anything but glare into the mid-distance once he’s done a precursory check to make sure you’re ok. You watch as his hands remain pressed flat on the countertop, his beer untouched as the condensation beads on the neck. Your glass of rosé has been replaced with a beer and you try not to smirk as you take your seat.

“Oh sweetheart,” your mother’s tone is saccharine, and you have to stop yourself from gagging, “We were just worrying about you, everything ok?”

“I heard,” you say, voice level as you take a purposeful sip from your bottle, “Thanks for the drink.”

You know it’s a little too risky, but you smile sweetly at Dave as you speak. You can see a vein in his neck bulge as he forces a smile.

“Anders – your dad – made a comment that he thought you hated rosé,” Dave shrugs and raises his beer in toast to the other man, “We had some of that import lager you like so I grabbed one for you.”

Your dad grins sheepishly between the three of you as Nancy fiddles with the stem of her wine glass. You can see the storm brewing behind her eyes. Unlike Dave, she doesn’t have a very good poker face. There’s an uncomfortable silence as you look between your mother, father, and Dave. Nancy keeps looking at you, like she’s trying to find the courage to say something.

“So, kiddo, what’s new with you? You manage to find a job yet?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a remote job for tech support at the start-up Ash works at.”

You lie, but it’s what Ash suggested you use as cover now she knows about your real job. She has enough sway she could probably even get you a fake employee ID if needed, but you’re not that worried.

“Oh, honey, thank goodness, maybe you can start paying rent now!”

Nancy laughs at her own comment in a way that makes you roll your eyes. She really still thinks she’s just so funny. It makes your stomach turn.

“Actually,” you start, “I’m going to be staying with Ash until I get my own place.”

You almost made your announcement, let it slip that you’re already moving out. But something about the way Nancy keeps stealing looks at you makes you hesitate.

“Oh, honey,” she starts, “I was kidding, don’t be so dramatic, you should come home.”

“No, I’ve made up my mind. I need to keep my stuff here until I get my own place, if that’s ok?”

You make a point not to address Dave directly, you want your mother to feel like she has the power here. You also know it would arouse suspicion about you and Dave if you did.

“Always so dramatic, what was it that even made you leave in the first place? Was it him?”

Nancy points at Dave, ignoring your request and you feel heat prickle under your skin. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you try to recover from the whiplash that the turn in conversation has taken.

“Jesus, Mom,” you hiss, “This again? Why can’t you let it go? Dave did nothing to make me feel uncomfortable. He hasn’t done anything to me.”

“Then why did you leave here crying your eyes out, running off in a stranger’s car?”

You go to answer, immediately giving in to the rise Nancy has so nicely set up. But you pause, something about her wording catches your interest.

“How do you know how I left?”

You look at Dave, accusation in your gaze. You want to believe he wouldn’t have said anything about the state of your departure. You’d made a point to plan corroboration only hours ago. Before anyone else can say a thing, an egg timer goes off and you near jump out of your skin. Dave’s body twitches as he stops himself from grabbing your hand.

“That’s the roast. Dave, be a dear and serve up.”

“I’ll help,” Anders jumps up, giving Dave a sympathetic look as he goes.

You shake your head in disbelief at both of your parents’ actions. Your father for being so whipped even now, and Nancy for ordering Dave around like a servant in his own home. Dave doesn’t move, and you can feel the tension between he and your mother. Something is being left unsaid, the silence is deafening and to your surprise, Nancy breaks first.

“Never mind, I’ll do it, like I do everything else in this house.”

She huffs as she wobbles off her stool to help a confused looking Anders serve up the roast. You take another sip of your beer, letting the malty liquid coat your tongue.

“You ok?”

Dave’s voice is low as he gives you a sideways look, his brow is knitted with concern as he speaks.

“No,” you whisper, fiddling with the bottle between your fingertips as you try not to lose your shit.

“If you want to leave, I’ll cover for you, I’ll bear the brunt of whatever this mood of hers is.”

You hesitate, the idea sounding more than appealing right now but you know you need to see this through. This isn’t the end of this hellish set-up, and it won’t end here if you just leave now. You need to see this through.

“I do, but I can’t, this isn’t something I can run from. Not this time.”

Dave says nothing more as your father comes over with the first few plates of sides. By the time everything is served you’re pretty hungry. You pile your plate up, focusing on the food so that you can ignore the three sets of eyes that are trained on you.

You try and eat, chewing your food thoroughly before swallowing. But there’s so much unease rattling through your body that you can’t find the joy in it. Your father is eating away happily, seemingly oblivious to the tension bouncing between your mom and you. Dave eats slowly, if you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was enjoying his meal. His beer remains untouched, as he continues to observe silently.

Your question hangs unanswered in the air, and it turns your stomach to know something is being left unsaid.

“So, how did you know?”

You ask again, finding your voice as you abandon the food on your plate. You can’t keep doing this. You want to get whatever this ambush was about over and done with so you can just go back to Ash’s. But most of all, you just want to go home, but you don’t know where that is right now. Images of Dave wrapping himself around you in your bed upstairs come to mind, but you push them away. You have more pressing matters to deal with.

“It doesn’t matter, drop it,” Nancy snaps as she drains her glass of wine before angrily spearing a stem of broccoli on her fork.

“It does matter,” you say as you throw your cutlery down with a clatter, “I deserve an explanation. Mom, tell me how you knew.”

“Stop being so childish, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Nancy deflects again as she looks anywhere but you. You go to say something, but Dave’s voice startles you.

“Nancy, are you going to tell her, or do I have to? Or are you going to keep ignoring her questions, like she’s a child?”

“Tell me what?” You challenge the pair of them, looking between them as your father sits in stunned silence, abandoning his food as well. You almost smile at his discomfort. Whatever he thought he was brought in to help your mother with, this wasn’t it.

“We aren’t talking about that right now,” Nancy spits as she fills another glass of wine, “We’re supposed to be here talking about you,” she points her finger at you, gesturing with her wine glass as it’s gripped in her clutches, “You and your problem.”

“My problem?”

“Yes, the fact that you’re whoring yourself out online, like a fucking… prostitute!”

“What are you talking about?” You respond with venom lacing your tone, your eyes narrowed as you try and keep your cool. There’s no way she could know.

“This!” She cries as she walks over to a paper bag on the far counter. You hadn’t noticed it before, but you already have some idea of what will be in there. You wait for her to pull out your paraphernalia and wave it in your face. To your surprise she up-ends the bag onto the island. The masks and the vibrator don’t shock you, but the multiple sets of lingerie and garter belts do.

“You went through my underwear drawer?”

You feel physically sick as you watch your belongings sit on top of plates of sides. The scene is mortifying as you scramble away from the table. Your skin crawls as you feel the tendrils of violation slithering under your skin.

“How dare you?”

“So, you’re denying it?” Nancy scoffs as she sits with her arms crossed, a picture of misplaced triumph.

“Of course, I am. Where did you even get that idea from? Some sex toys and some lingerie?”

“Don’t raise your voice at me,” Nancy spits as she straightens in her chair, her eyes wild as she seethes at your challenge, “The slutty bedding, the blackout curtains, the fucking camera pointed at your bed. There’s no other explanation for it.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m just kinky? That I might I like it when my sexual partners do more than rut into me for five minutes and roll over? I would have thought you’d be far more open minded considering that you enjoyed enough freedom to explore your own sexuality over the years. Why does your mind go straight to sex work? As for my bedding, I thought you wanted me to feel comfortable here. Just because I can’t stand the bland suburban vibe you chose for this house, doesn’t make it slutty.” You scoff, your back up as you feel the need to defend yourself, “For someone who’s made a living off prenup settlements, alimony and husbands’ credit cards, you are incredibly judgmental of sex work. That’s the correct term for it these days, by the way.”

You pause to take a breath as you shake your head, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of your nose as you refocus your train of thought. Nancy goes to speak, and you hold up your other hand to silence her.

“I wasn’t finished,” you snap before continuing, “What gave you the right to enter my room, search my things, and steal from me? Even if I was a sex worker – which I’m not – that wouldn’t give you any right to do any of that. And how dare you try and slut shame me? What do you stand to gain by humiliating me like this? Dumping my underwear and toys in front of Dad, and your husband no less? What is your angle here?”

You can see Dave’s façade beginning to crack, his hands are fists balled on the table as his resolve begins to slip. Your father is sullen, eyes downturned as he avoids your gaze. His shoulders are slumped, and he doesn’t seem to be listening anymore.

“Don’t give me that shit,” Nancy starts up again but is cut off before she can continue.

“Enough.”

Dave snaps as he stands, his chair scraping loudly on the tiled floor, his shoulders tense as he glowers down at Nancy.

“Don’t you dare tell me enough,” Nancy yells at Dave.

“First the PI, now this? It’s abhorrent, Nancy. How can you disrespect your adult daughter’s privacy so flagrantly?”

“A PI? Are you serious right now?” You scoff, “When you’re the one spending so many weekends alone with Danielle?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nancy snaps but you just laugh.

“Cut the crap, Nancy,” you say her name without thinking and it’s like a switch is flipped. Your mother’s eyes go wide, and she drops her glass, as if you’d physically hit her. It clatters on the countertop, spilling the sickly pink alcohol across the surface.

“Just as I suspected, you’ve seduced him, haven’t you? Turned him against me by sucking his dick just like you did with Kyle.”

White noise fills your ears as you walk backwards, needing to put physical distance between you and your mother. You feel your knees weaken; you clutch the countertop behind you in desperation to stop yourself from falling. Your mouth goes slack as you try and ground yourself, but you’re left adrift as the accusation rocks you.

“I was fourteen.”

The statement falls from your lips like a lead weight, striking the tiled floors with a clatter as it bounces around the open space. Your words echo around the room as you feel the world swaying around you.

“Nancy, what are you talking about?”

To your surprise it’s your father who speaks up and you see the look of horror on his face.

“This doesn’t concern you, Anders,” she spits but he’s still shaking his head in disbelief. Dave turns to look at you, his jaw tight as he tries to keep his cool. But you see it, the desperate sorrow mingled with fury at your admission.

“Kyle left you because I threatened him with the police. I didn’t let him do anything to me, that would imply I had a choice.”

Your voice isn’t your own as you hiss at your mother, never have you spoken back to her so freely. But you can’t do this, not anymore. You can’t be here.

You start to move without thinking, your body shaking as you head to the door. You vaguely register people calling after you, but you can’t stop. You’re opening the door by the time someone catches up to you, a firm arm on your elbow. You turn, and something deep within you hopes it’s Dave but you’re met with the pinched features of your father.

“Please don’t leave,” he pleads but you shake your head violently, lurching away from his grasp as you stumble onto the porch. The cold wind hits you as you realise you’ve left you purse and your coat inside.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

You look at the man before you up and down with derision, it seems obvious now how alone you’ve always been. Not once have you been able to rely on him, nor Nancy, when things got tough. It’s like you’ve finally taken off a blindfold, exposing you to the sad reality that you’ve survived on you own for most of your life without either of their help.

“I’m your father, please, let me help you.”

“Are you? It hasn’t felt much like it in recent years.”

He stammers and there’s something in his expression that makes you take pause. You can’t fucking believe it, but maybe you can. This whole evening has been full of fucked up truth speaking and skeletons tumbling from your familial closet. What’s one more bombshell to add to the list?

“Are you?”

You ask again as you glare at him, Nancy appears at his back, and you see the twist of shame in your mother’s face.

“Perfect,” you laugh, hysterical and unhinged as you fail to keep your cool, “You don’t even know do you?”

“Please, sweetheart, come back inside,” he pleads but you shake your head, despite the cold, it’s only an hour’s walk back to Ash’s place.

“No.”

You turn on your heel and stomp down the steps, speed-walking down the driveway until you hit the sidewalk. You go to check your phone, but you realise you’d left it in your coat. You curse but keep on going. There’s no way you’re going back.

~*~

Dave can’t remember the last time he felt so furious. He thinks he might crack a tooth if he continues clenching his jaw so hard. He sits at his desk as he downloads a copy of the CCTV footage onto a second USB drive, ready to give to you.

The first USB drive sits on the desk, ready to be put in a hidden compartment in his car door. He can hear Nancy and Anders bickering upstairs. He taps his foot irritably as he watches the progress bar, he needs to check in with you, but this comes first.

Evidence gathering always comes first.

The progress bar turns green as the job completes. He ejects the drive and secures it in a plain envelope, your name scrawled across the front. He needs to go back upstairs and face Nancy and Anders, but he can’t, he’s too pent up. Too angry.

In this state, he might do something he’ll regret.

He locks the door to his room and slides across the deadbolt before he practically rips off his dress shirt. He strips off before tossing everything into the hamper at the corner of the room.

He turns on the faucet and steps into the cold stream, not waiting for the water to get to temperature. He jolts as the frigid sheets of water cascade over him, a pained hiss escaping his clenched teeth.

He’s shivering by the time the water finally warms up, his anger quelled, he realises he’d forgotten to do something. He scrubs himself clean before striding out to grab his phone. The other line answers on the third ring. Dave doesn’t even bother waiting for a response before he starts talking.

“Is that you sat in the blue sedan three houses down?”

“You know me too well, boss,” Resnik chuckles down the line and Dave shakes his head. He’s not in the mood for Resnik’s bullshit. He balances the phone between his shoulder and jaw as he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from his drawers.

“You see her leave?”

“Affirmative.”

“Think you can tail her for me? On foot?”

“Christ, really?”

“Yes or no, Resnik.”

“Fine. I’m on it, do I need my camera?” Resnik curses as Dave hears him jostling the phone, “Shit she’s on the other line already, she’s relentless.”

“Ignore her, make up an excuse, I don’t care. You’re not tailing either of us professionally, Nancy be damned. I need tonight off the books.”

“Got it, you breaking protocol to tap that a-?”

Dave ends the call, anger already simmering too hot under his skin as he forces his feet into some sneakers. For all of his uses, Resnik is his least favourite member of the team, and moments like this remind him why. But right now, your safety is more important than chewing out his subordinate.

He pockets his phone and the envelope with your USB in it before unlocking the door and heading upstairs. He runs a hand through his hair as he jogs up the steps, already bracing himself for the inevitable tirade that awaits him. He peeks out into the hallway to see Nancy and Anders have moved to the living room. Still bickering furiously. He smirks at the sight and leans against the doorframe, clearing his throat to get their attention.

“What do you want?” Nancy snaps.

“I want you,” Dave snarls as he points at Anders, “to get the fuck out of my house. Now.”

Anders physically shrinks back and Dave smirks, what a pathetic man.

“It’s my house too!” Nancy argues but Dave simply shakes his head.

“You might live here, Nancy, but it’s my name on the deed,” he counters, relishing the way her lips purse into a tight line as she knows she can’t argue there, “Regardless, if he’s not gone by the time I get back, I will physically remove him.”

“Asshole,” Nancy grumbles under her breath, clearly hoping Dave wouldn’t hear her.

“And you?” Dave fixes his gaze firmly on Nancy now, making her squirm, “I can’t even look at you right now. What you did tonight was beyond obscene, it was grotesque. I honestly don’t recognise you as the woman I married. What I saw tonight, aimed at your own daughter no less, was humiliating. I need to clear my head, I’m going out for a run, it might be a good idea for you to go and stay with Danielle for a few days.”

“Bullshit,” Nancy storms towards Dave, and this time Dave sees the blow coming, he catches her wrist mid-swing and holds it there. She struggles against his grip and her eyes go wide as she realises just how strong Dave is.

“What’s bullshit?” Dave challenges, holding her gaze as he cocks his eyebrow, daring her to accuse him once more.

“Going for a run? What a crock of shit. You’re going to go and fuck her, aren’t you? I’m not blind, Dave. The moment I can prove you’re taking advantage of her, it’s over for you. I’ll take you for all you’re worth. I will ruin you.”

“You can’t stop yourself, can you? You really can’t see how utterly debasing and disgusting these allegations are? Especially for her?” Dave shakes his head as he lets her go, turning on his heel and heading to the door. By some mercy Nancy doesn’t follow, but she continues to scream at him about the prenup, he pays it no mind.

He passes the coat rack on the way out and notices your coat and purse. He takes one last look over his shoulder, Nancy is nowhere to be seen, and he snatches them up before heading out the door. Then he feels it, your coat is strangely heavy, something is weighing it down. He continues walking down to the sidewalk as he fishes through your pocket.

He’s just out of sight of the house when he pulls out your phone. His blood runs cold as he realises just how vulnerable you are right now. He breaks into a sprint as he heads to the parked car that he keeps on standby a few streets over. He fumbles with the keys as his blood rushes loudly in his ears, the moment he’s inside the car he dials Resnik’s number again.

~*~

It’s fucking cold.

You curse yourself as you walk down the side of the road. You also curse the bullshit inconsistency of sidewalks in Austin as you have to cross the street once again just to keep off the road. Back in New York you’d be in thicker clothes and have ample sidewalk to walk down.

But here you are, in Texas, in the Winter. With no coat, no phone, no purse.

Stupid.

You curse to yourself as you flinch when a truck hurtles past you enough to sway you with the turbulence it creates. This isn’t even funny anymore, but you can’t turn back now. You’re only a few blocks away from Ash’s apartment and you’d only be putting yourself in more danger if you did go back.

You reach a crosswalk when you feel it. The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you go to cross. It’s an instinctual gnaw at the back of your mind as you see a flicker of movement in a yard across the street.

Four.

You count to yourself mentally, four times that you’d felt like this since you left Nancy’s. The idea of a PI tailing you fresh in your mind as you decide your next move. A gust of wind makes you cry out as it pierces your skin, your teeth chattering as you shiver violently. You cross, trying not to focus on the chain link fence that sways ahead of you. It could just be the wind, or your mind playing tricks on you.

Hyper-vigilance is something you learned long ago. You don’t remember a time when you weren’t checking over your shoulder in public. But this is different, this is something more sinister.

You slow your pace down as you pass the yard where you thought you saw movement. You scan out of your peripheral vision but there’s nothing there. Just an empty yard, grass muted and grey in the winter chill, not even a bush to hide in.

You sigh, trying to roll the tension out of your shoulders as you move on, you’re less than ten minutes’ walk away now. You watch as a black coupe pulls up a street over, parking up, engine off. But no-one exits the car. You would have missed it if it weren’t for how jumped up you are right now.

You know it’s stupid, you’re probably just imagining this as well. But you have to check on your hunch. You cross back over onto the other side of the street, trying to keep casual as your eyes lock on the vehicle up ahead.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach the passenger side window. You take a deep breath and knock on it before bending low to look inside the car. Your eyes go wide as you see the driver.

It’s Dave.

He reels back, recoiling from your gaze and you almost smile at the sight of the unflappable Dave York being startled.

“Can I get in?”

You ask as you gesture to the door handle. You hear the click of the electronic lock opening and pull the door open. You groan as you slump into the passenger seat, the heaters are on full, and you immediately feel your body warming through.

“I can explain-,” Dave starts but you wave your hand at him dismissively.

“I’m too cold,” you grumble as you close your eyes, “And hungry, and pissed off to talk right now. Can we go somewhere to eat and talk there?”

“Sure.”

And once again Dave doesn’t press, even though he must be flustered you’d caught him, doing what? Stalking you? No, this was an act of compassion. You crack your eyes open and look into the back seat to see your purse resting atop your coat. Dave to the rescue yet again. You should be annoyed, irritated that he’s bailing you out of yet another shitty situation. But all you can feel is gratitude.

You ride in silence for a little while, letting the warmth seep back into your bones as you curl and uncurl your toes. By the time the car comes to a halt you’re feeling a little more human. You flutter your eyes open to see the neon sign of a diner flashing at you.

“Does this fit the bill?” Dave asks as he kills the engine.

“Perfect.” You groan as you haul yourself out of the car, leaving your coat and purse behind. You know your phone is going to be filled with messages and missed calls, and you don’t want to face that right now.

You stride through the glass door and find a booth in the center of the diner. Dave hurries after you, anxious to keep up as he slides into the red and white pleather seat opposite you. The diner is loud and filled with the sound of cutlery scraping on plates and the buzz of multiple conversations echoing around the small space.

Dave looks wrecked, his hair is dishevelled, sticking out at all angles as he clenches his hands together on the table. His dark eyes flick around the diner as if searching for danger and you feel a pang of shame in your chest.

“Hey,” you say softly as you reach forward for his hands, “Are you alright?”

Dave blinks a few times, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you as if you’d grown a second head.

“Me?” He scoffs, “You’re asking me if I’m ok? You’re the one that just got ambushed by Nancy and your father, calling you nothing short of a prostitute.”

Dave’s words sting but you can’t deny his candour.

“You’ve got a PI up your ass and a vindictive asshole of a wife,” you shrug as you see the waitress coming over, “I think we’ve both got it pretty rough.”

“What can I get y’all this evening?”

The interruption of the waitress is welcomed as you quickly order something off the menu. Dave gets the same and tells her to keep the coffee coming. You feel Dave’s ankle brush against yours and you don’t flinch away. You expect him to, but his eyes meet yours and there’s comfort there. You anchor yourself, and you expect it’s the same for him.

“So, how’d you find me?”

“Luck, a bit of intuition,” he shrugs, “There’s really only one route into central Austin without hitting the highway. Had to circle through a few neighbourhoods but you’re not exactly hard to spot, underdressed and on foot this time of night.”

You shrug, you had kept to the same road the whole time, crossing for sidewalk safety aside. But you’re not satisfied yet.

“How’d you know Ash lived in central Austin?” You question him further, seeing if you can poke holes in his story. You’re still not wholly convinced he’s telling you everything.

“You’re thorough. You must be formidable in court,” Dave says with a wide smile that makes his cheeks dimple. Do you detect a glimmer of pride in that smile? You feel heat rise to your cheeks at the thought. You’re so unused to genuine praise it catches you off guard, but you try not to let it distract you.

“Besides, you got home within an hour from leaving the club on your birthday, there’s no way you got an Uber out of the city and to her place in that time on a Friday night. It was the logical place for me to head towards.”

You nod slowly, your curiosity almost sated.

“Last one about finding me,” you say with a smirk as Dave raises an eyebrow at you playfully, “Why’d you come after me? Was it just to give me my things?”

“No, I wanted to make sure you were ok, that was a lot to go through in one evening. None of that should’ve happened. I’m so sorry it did.” He says as his smile falters, “And thinking about you walking an hour back into Austin on your own – at night – left me feeling,” he pauses, trying to find the right word, “Uneasy.”

“Thank you,” you say, meeting his gaze with warmth as you itch to reach out and touch him, “I really appreciate you doing that.”

“Of course, I’d do anything for you.”

His words surprise you and you swallow around a lump forming in your throat as you try to get back to the matter at hand.

“Right,” you nod as a mug of black coffee appears at your elbow, you thank the server and continue, “What the fuck is going on with you and Nancy? No bullshit this time, what’s your angle?”

Dave looks at you with a wry smile on his lips, his eyes wide as he tilts his head at you.

“Right down to it,” Dave responds with a sigh, “What do you want to know?” Dave asks and you’re caught off guard for a moment at his willingness to open up to you. He’s been a closed book so far, only giving you glimpses of his true feelings. Suddenly you feel a little nervous, like you’re stepping over a line.

“Why are you still with her?”

The question sounds petulant, even to your own ears, but it’s honest and you need to know.

“It’s complicated,” Dave says but puts his hand up before you can protest, you’re already ready to leave at those two words, your ankle moving away from his, “So, let me explain. It’s a lot.”

“Ok,” you concede as you lean back in the booth, “Start talking.”

“I don’t know how much Nancy told you,” Dave shifts in his seat, his voice low, “But you know I’m in the CIA right?”

“Yeah, some kind of pencil pusher ‘analyst’,” you say, making air quotes with your fingers as you speak, “The kind of nondescript role that means you’re actually knee deep in classified shit?”

Dave blinks for a moment, his brows raise as he tries to work out if you’re fucking with him.

“Dave, I was an attorney in New York for five years,” you roll your eyes, “You think I don’t know that every agency has a standard cover title?”

Dave lets out a long sigh, shaking his head as you swear you hear him laugh.

“Ok, fine, let's cut the shit,” Dave meets your gaze as he rests his chin on his clasped hands, elbows firm on the table, “I deal with some seriously dangerous people, and sometimes, no matter how careful we are, there are calls for retribution.”

You sober a little as you let the tension in your shoulders ease.

“Around the time I found out what kind of person Nancy is, one of those threats bore down hard on me and my team,” Dave takes a second, scanning the busy diner with a practiced caution. “And the threat hasn’t cooled off enough since for me to leave her. Nancy is collateral if we split.”

“You’re staying to keep her out of danger?”

Dave nods as the server comes over with your food. You thank her and she promises to come back and refill your coffee soon. You sit there for a while, eating slowly, chewing every bite as you steal glances at Dave.

“Am I a target?”

The question hangs in the air as you meet Dave’s gaze.

“We don’t think so, no.”

Your head snaps up from your meal and you’re almost offended as you stare Dave down.

“You’re not my daughter, and until very recently you lived in New York with little to no contact with your mother.”

“So what?” you add, “I’m not important enough to be profiled?”

“There’s been no evidence that you’ve been targeted,” Dave shrugs and there’s something unspoken there that makes your heart flutter.

“So, all that aside,” you probe further, “You know the prenup is bullshit, right? Like, invalid from the beginning?”

“Of course, I do,” Dave shrugs but a soft blush creeps up his neck as you call him out so hard, “You wrote it up for a New York client so it’s invalid in Texas. Conveniently, you’re not licensed to practise here. Plus, you have a conflict of interest seeing as Nancy is your mother, I wasn’t there at the signing or drawing up of the document, the list goes on.”

“But you’ve stayed to protect her?”

“Two-for-two,” Dave says with little emotion as he takes a long gulp of his coffee.

“This is all so fucked,” you groan as you push your plate to the side, “So you’re hoping she keeps fucking Danielle, and doesn’t serve you papers until after this threat passes?”

“Something like that,” Dave grunts and you feel for him. None of this is healthy.

“His name is Bryce, by the way. The man she’s sleeping with.”

You fumble for a moment, trying to keep up with the conversation. But you recognise the name, it’s someone your mother has complained about before.

“Bryce Hall? The president of the HOA?”

“The very same,” Dave affirms as he smirks at you, surprised you know him.

“Nancy used to text bitchy messages about him when she first moved in,” you explain, “She hated having to clear the sidewalk of leaves or something.

“Sounds about right,” Dave nods contemplatively, “Anything else you want to know?”

“Do you regret it?” You ask, keeping Dave’s gaze as you prepare for the worst, for him to tell you that you were a mistake.

“Regret marrying your mom? Of course I do-,” but you cut him off, shaking your head as your feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“No, do you regret what happened between us?”

“No,” Dave covers one of your hands in his own, his fingertips circling around your wrist, “But I need to know something before this conversation goes any further.”

You feel heat flood your body at sensation of his broad hand covering yours.

“Anything,” you nod.

“What happened with Kyle?”

You tense up under his touch and Dave starts to pull away, but you stop him. You thread your fingers through his as you pull him back to you. You need him right now, his grounding presence. He’s warm and it makes your heart clench to feel his skin on yours.

“So, Nancy wasn’t very good at staying sober, even when I was young,” you say, letting out a small sigh as you squeeze Dave’s hand, “It meant that her boyfriends were often left unsupervised with me.”

It’s Dave’s turn to squeeze your hand and you look up to see the rage in his eyes as his nostrils flare.

“Yeah, he wasn’t the only one to touch me,” you fidget in your seat a little, casting a look around the diner, as if to make sure no-one is listening.

“If this is too hard for you, you don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry I asked.”

“No,” you shake your head, “I want to tell you, even if it’s hard.”

Dave rubs his thumb gently over your skin and you smile at the gentle encouragement.

“One night, Nancy was passed out on the sofa, it can’t have been later than eight,” you swallow, your guts twisting as your heart rate increases, you can feel the sweat beading on your brow, “I was reading in my room. Sprawled out in my pjs, music up, then Kyle came in.”

You pause as the server comes and takes your plates, filling your coffee before asking if you need anything else, you both decline. It’s a welcome break as you clear your throat, brushing tears from your eyes with your free hand.

“He started by just sitting on the bed, touching my leg, asking me what I was reading. It ended up with me pressed against the mattress, his hand smothering my face as he-,”

You can’t finish your sentence as you break down, the memory burned into your skin as you feel Dave pull away. You weep as your anxiety tells you that he’s left, your broken sob story too much for him to deal with. You’ve driven another person away with your drama, with your sad little life.

“I’m here.”

Dave’s voice is soft in your ear as he slides into the booth next to you. You look up to see him with his arms open, facing you. You don’t hesitate to throw yourself into his embrace, your fists balling in the fabric of his hoodie as you sob into his chest. His arms wrap around you gently, cradling your shoulders as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

“He raped me Dave, I was a child and he fucking raped me.”

“I know, I know,” he says softly as he holds you close, “None of that was your fault, not a moment of it, you know that right?”

“I know, but after what Nancy said at dinner, I just can’t stop thinking I should have done more.”

“Nancy is a coward and a liar,” Dave growls, “You were a child, you should never have been put in that situation.”

“I hate her,” you cry as you fist your hands tighter in his hoodie, your face buried in his chest.

“I know,” he murmurs into your hair, and you hear the tightness in his voice. You know he’s keeping his own emotions under wraps here. But you know why he’s asked about this. You know where his mind is going.

“You’re nothing like them, like Kyle,” you say, almost to yourself as you ground yourself in the scent of Dave’s body wash, his shampoo. He smells like home.

“You don’t have to say that, you don’t have to do that.”

“I mean it,” you push back, your eyes bleary as you look up into Dave’s sad eyes. “I threatened him with the police at age fourteen, I have hard evidence against you.”

Dave’s jaw ticks to the side at the reminder but he nods slowly.

“I’m not a fourteen-year-old anymore, David,” you say, your voice firm as you hold his gaze, “I know how to say no, I know my own mind.”

“I know but-,”

“No, I know that you’re trying to protect me, again,” you shake your head pushing back from him as you straighten up, “But I need you to know that no matter what happens, I will never regret what we had.”

Dave nods his hands still on your shoulders as he looks you up and down.

“I am sorry that happened to you,” he says softly.

“This isn’t on you, Dave. You shouldn’t feel responsible for what happened.”

“I just don’t want to fail you, be another person who has let you down when you needed them most.”

“Dave, you’re here,” you say as you realise how close you are, “You’ve already done more than anyone else since I moved back.”

He’s silent now, his hands dropping from your shoulders as he nods curtly. He shuffles away from you on the seat, and you feel the hollow sting of rejection in your chest. Despite everything that happened tonight, you still need him. You know you’re pent up and vulnerable, but like always, it isn’t just about sex, or lust, or desire with Dave.

It’s love.

And finally admitting it to yourself only makes the hole in your chest expand. But you blink away the tears as you turn to see Dave looking just as pained as you feel.

“I should get you back to Ash’s place, I’ll need you to give me the address,” he says as he stands, throwing a handful of bills on the table.

“Yeah,” you nod, not trusting yourself to say anything more. You follow him out towards the black coupe. You lean over to grab your coat and purse, already dreading the state of your notifications. But you place them by your feet, not wanting to face the noise yet. You give Dave the address of Ash’s apartment block and let the sat nav fill the silence between you.

“Dave?” You break the silence and his eyes flick to you in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah?”

“I felt like I was being followed tonight, like there was someone with me from the moment I left the house,” you take a shaky breath, knowing how paranoid you sound, “Do you think it was the PI?”

“Probably,” he answers after a second, his tone flat, “He’s been sniffing around me for just over a month.”

“Shit, that’s around when Nancy hit you right?”

“Correct,” he nods as he pulls up at a set of lights, looking at you briefly with a sad smile, “That’s how she knew about your leaving with Ash.”

“I see,” you nod as it all fits together, “How long have you known?”

“From the moment she charged the first consultation on our joint credit card.”

You pause for a moment and your lips quirk up into an incredulous smirk.

“She didn’t seriously use your credit card to pay for a PI to follow you?”

“You can’t make this shit up, can you?” He chuckles and you throw your head back as you let yourself laugh at her lack of foresight.

“So, I guess kissing you goodnight is out of the question?” You say as Dave pulls up outside the apartment block.

“I don’t think-,” Dave starts as he puts his hands up to protest but you cut him off.

“I’m kidding Dave,” you say with a smile as you lean back on the headrest.

“Funny,” he says with a dry laugh as he shakes his head. You can’t think of a reason to linger so you gather your things and unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Goodnight, Dave,”

“Goodnight,” he says your name softly as you exit the car. You don’t turn back as you ascend the stairs, you know it will hurt too much if you see him watching you go. You’ve put yourself through enough emotional torture tonight, you might just break if you look back.

You fish your phone and keys out of your pockets but pause as you feel the crinkle of paper. You pull out a small envelope with your name on it and the following message.

Don’t play me until you’re alone.

~*~

Dave waits until he sees the front door close behind you before he relaxes in his seat. He sits there for a moment, collecting himself as he feels the anguish burning under his skin. He just wants to make it all go away, all of your grief, all of your hurt. He wants you safe, happy.

He loves you.

He’s pushed down that inappropriate word for weeks. Put his feelings down to lust, excitement, hell even the thrill of the taboo. But nothing about tonight was exciting, there wasn’t an ounce of lust in his body as he heard your mother debase and degrade you. There was no thrill in hearing how you were raped at fourteen and blamed for it. Nor in fully realising all the neglect Nancy and your dad put you through.

All he feels is a deep, festering hatred for your mother, and a desire to never let anyone hurt you like that again.

He picks up his phone and dials Resnik’s number.

“Hey, Boss, Nancy hasn’t stopped calling all night. I tried to make up some shit about having food poisoning, but she’s persistent.”

“Get back to my house, I’m going for a run for real this time, give her the photos she so desperately wants.”

“But, boss, I’m a couple of blocks away!” Resnik whines down the phone and Dave smirks to himself.

“Better start running Resnik, you’ve got twenty minutes. Don’t forget your camera!”

Dave hangs up before Resnik can complain, laughing at his subordinate from deep in his chest. He’s already heading back out of the city at pace. Needling Resnik like this felt like an adequate consequence to his lecherous comments earlier.

All he can hope is that Nancy’s off grovelling to Bryce when he gets back, because he has work to do. If he’s to be sure to come out of this unscathed, his story needs to be airtight. He needs to treat this like any other job, any other profile. There can’t be a single discrepancy or loose end.

He needs to talk to you about making sure your copies of your joint stream are stored offline to protect you both. He needs to get his team on scrubbing any screen recordings of that stream floating around the porn sites.

After tonight he knows Nancy will be on a war path. But he’s ready, and Nancy will never know what hit her.

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 2 months

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top 5 wips you’re most excited to write? :D

AH …. anon my beloved 🥺🥺🥺 tysm for giving me an excuse to talk about them!!!! i have a whole bunch but here are the ones i’m most excited for/planning to write soon :3 hopefully

TITLES ARE STILL UNDER CONSTRUCTION BTW but if you know where any of them are from you get a big gold star ⭐️

it’s your touch that i need

the best friend’s brother!satoru fic that i’m planning on posting next….. i’m . Unsure if i’ll have time to post it this week but :’3 i’ll get it done!!! honestly i just think bfb!toru is insanely attractive so this is mostly an outlet for that but . i have a plot mapped out kind of… the unrequited love trope is just perfect for him but it’s Me so it’ll probably be less angsty and more funny/bittersweet !!

here’s a snippet from it <3

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.” the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this? it’s a specific kind of torture. he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. there are lots of people out there for you. (i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know. but i want you.)

hunter, you were human

my neglected mer!sugu fic…… our beloved fish man….. one day. i’ll write it out. i’m having some trouble deciding the order of events + general formatting of the outline so 😭😭 i’m a bit stuck. i’ll get there though!!! this au has angst potential but it’s Me so trust that this will be fluffy and nothing else. lots of banter and cutesy moments. i have a lotttt of thoughts about this au and character/reader dynamic so….. i’m. really excited to eventually write it all out!!! i love him sm :cc

“i don’t really like freshwater.” … your eyes widen. his voice is silky, smooth, like a silver river running from the forked tip of his tongue; a melodic lilt that makes you think of the lullaby your mother used to sing you to sleep with. a long, slow moment passes you by, like the rocking of a rusty ship. silently, your tongue forms around a bundle of words, your mouth gaping like a fish out of water. staring at the merman in your bathtub. “you can talk?!”

consider the hairpin turn

THE BELOVEDEST OF THEM ALL …… my extremely neglected best friend’s brother!kenjaku fic T_T my magnum opus even . i started writing it out a while ago but had to stop bc i can’t decide how to format it …. i think it’d be best to tell the story through a lot of flashbacks but it’s difficult to decide where to put what flashbacks in a way that doesn’t disturb the flow, yk??? but i do have everything outlined and i’m super excited to finally post it :33 someday… bfb!kenny is the actual loml i have so much lore planned for him. this fic is just a whole bunch of yearning and tension… the tiniest tiniest bit suggestive bc he truly makes me ill.

nervously, your gaze trails towards the stairs. worried, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. kenjaku notices. a large palm cradles your cheek; making sure your eyes stay locked onto his own. ”don't worry about him,” he soothes, a rough thumb smoothing down your skin. ”it’s just us here… just you and me. why don’t you take a deep breath for me, hm?” (you do. without thinking. as if your body was waiting for instructions, waiting to satiate this gnawing desire to impress him, make him proud. be good for him.) “now,” he exhales, in tandem with you, molecules mingling together. “do you want this?”

only in the next world

ANOTHER DEARLY BELOVED WIP that’s been rotting in my drafts for a while ….. 👉👈 i think that out of all of these fics this is the first one that i wrote the outline to?? probably even before i made this blog. it’s basically just a canon-aligned au where gojo navigates his maybe-possibly-feelings for you, a new teacher at jujutsu high!! sooo really just my attempt to write what i view as a more canon-aligned gojo and his feelings towards love :3 mostly character-centered fluff and slowburn… some office au vibes…. i’m very fond of this reader!! and i love this version of gojo so bad i really hope i can do him justice…

“they’re a softie, huh?” shoko exhales — smoke drifting past her lungs, mingling with the cold air, a stench of tobacco that makes him crinkle his nose. ”they are,” she hums, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. a dangerously knowing look. “it’s not often someone captures your attention.” gojo smiles. ”is that what it seems like?” he drawls, almost a chuckle. closing his eyes and thinking of you, the fading scent of your perfume. ”well, who knows.” (certainly not him.)

signs of affection

my sickeningly fluffy cult leader geto fic <333 bc i’m spreading the agenda that he is a puppy of a man towards his s/o. this one is just meant to be funny and sweet!! i adoreee the thought of him dating a retired sorcerer with a normal ass job so in this one the reader works at a preschool…. and they’re meant to attend some kind of event for the preschool + is offered to bring a plus one. mild chaos ensues (geto doesn’t want to be anywhere near your non-sorcerer colleagues but he also wants to support you so he’s having a bit of a crisis rn…..) i LOVE this one and i’m so excited to write it out <333333 i think this geto is the most endearing man alive.

suguru blinks, eyelashes fluttering, gleaming under the shallow light of the lamppost just behind him. illuminating the peach-dyed flush dusting his ears, those wide pupils. and his lips, glossy with something cherry-flavoured, soon to curl up into a smile — fond, fond, fond. melting into your touch, basking in your long-sought attention. if he were a cat, you’re sure he'd be purring. he places one big palm over yours, where it rests on his cheek, and he stares. silently, like you’re the only thing worth seeing; dreamy galaxies inside his eyes, all honey and star clusters, leaking adoration. a milky way of love. ”… another,” he pleads, nosing at your fingertips.

#TYSM FOR INDULGING ME ANON!!!!!!#these r all very important to me #anyway im abt to spoil where the titles are from bc i cant contain myself 😔😔#it’s your touch that i need is a pinkpantheress lyric (song: just for me) bc her music is so gojocoded and ESP bfb!gojo coded…#also the lyrics are very much in tune w the fic and reader being horrendously down bad #hunter; you were human is a lyric from one of my favorite mitski songs pearl diver <333 it just feels mer!sugu coded to me!!#but the song is a lot more somber than the fic #consider the hairpin turn is ofc a line from a richard siken poem <333 bc kenny is sikencoded and this fic is VERY in tune w you are jeff #that’s the name of the poem btw. you are jeff. it’s super good go read it rn !!!#only in the next world is a quote from my belovedest video game disco elysium :3 the full quote is:#“true love is possible only in the next world — for new people. it is too late for us. wreak havoc on the middle class.”#<- which is just. insanely gojocoded #aaaand finally signs of affection is the name of a persona 4 song that i rlly like :3 im not completely sure if that should be the title #but im going w it for now <333 #anyway if you read all this pls know ily. 🫂🫂 here’s your gold star ⭐️ !!#ask tag ✩

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yeosangs-horizon · 1 year

Text

Carry On

Genre: Angst | Pairing: Rei x Reader Word Count: 3k Content Warning(s): Major character death (your death as per anons request hhfhfh), major blood/injury (gunshot wound), not 100% medically accurate, severe angst, hurt no comfort Author(s) Note: Thanks for the request lovely anon and letting me write out of my comfort zone /pos /gen :0

It was already very mind-numbing when Miri was ripped away from you, your lover, and his partners’ arms. Even more so when Rei announced that he was going back to his father in the New Year.

The days following Miri’s departure were quiet, slow, and everyday you kept on yearning for the joy back. Specifically, what were you to do without her around anymore, you were hired on almost a year prior to be her babysitter but developed a bond with Kazuki and Rei. During that time, you had fallen for Rei and he reciprocated those feelings but the two of you never defined the relationship, but you knew that you were his and vice versa.

With that, his departure stung just as hard as Miri’s weeks prior. The night before he was set to leave, he sat next to you on the signature red couch in the middle of the living room, squeezing your hand for comfort in silence as you let the tears fall.

“Is there… no other way?” you managed to breathe out, stifling through tears. He let his gaze fall upon your sullen body.

“Sorry… Thanks for everything (Y/N)... I mean it. I…” he let out in a shaky breath.

“I love you too,” you finished, looking up with your tear-filled orbs to gaze at him. He shifted his gaze away from your look to avoid shedding tears himself, but you could tell he had almost broken down, quivering his lips as he pressed them against yours in a last ditch effort to savor you before letting go. His warmth stayed around your form until morning when it dissipated as he left one last peck on your slumbering form before turning away. It was for the better, for your safety.

You let yourself slumber until an ungodly hour, knowing that he was no longer by your side. Your heart ached to be with your lover and to have Miri’s cheerful presence back. Shifting to wipe the sleep from your eyes, you glanced at the coffee table that had a picture thrown upon it, an image of yourself with Rei during one of your first dates together. You clutched at it, pressing it close to your heart as you let more tears slip from the corners of your eyes.

He had left the last piece he had of you behind.

The apartment was quiet, you had no idea how long you sat there unmoving and didn’t look around until you felt Kazuki’s presence next to you. “(Y/N)... have you eaten anything?” his voice softly called out. You shook your head as you finally slipped the picture of you and Rei in your wallet. You felt his palm trace the small of your back, giving you pats of comfort.

“I miss him Kazu… I miss Miri too,” you managed to utter out. He let out a sigh while glancing in your direction.

“I do too. C’mon let’s walk outside for some fresh air and to get you something to eat.” You silently obliged, following his figure to the door, knowing that a distraction could get you through the rest of the day.

You wondered how Rei was doing, if his father was treating him tolerably.

You walked in silence with Kazuki as he led you to Yadorigi where he had intentions of asking Kyutaro for more jobs as his means of distraction. That only led to the older man throwing a packet of cash in front of Kazuki as he was not in the right mindset to complete a job without butchering it. You let out a chuckle, your first smile through the day as you watched the two of them bicker.

“To cheer you up (Y/N),” Kyutaro said warmly as he slid you your favourite drink, a strawberry lemonade. You felt a pang in your chest again as you remember that it was Rei’s favourite drink too and the two of you would share all the time when visiting Kyu.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you sipped on it, trying to shove the memories out from your head.

Having a bit more energy, you kept up with Kazuki’s pace as evening started to fall. You gazed at the shimmering lights beyond the horizon line as you crossed the bridge with the older man back to the apartment. Your dazed trance was broken with the sharp trill of a ringtone coming from Kazuki’s phone.

“Kazuki where are you right now?”

Rei…?

Your heart rate started to increase as you heard your lover’s voice. “Uh, on my way back from Kyu’s?”

“Go to Miri, now! Please! Hurry!”

You turned your head in shock as you heard Rei’s panicked voice. The two of you turned in unison to run the opposite direction as Kazuki dialed Kyu’s number.

“Leave something behind?”

“Kyu-chan, can you contact Miri’s mom?! Tell them to get out of there now!” Kazuki huffed over the phone. Shit. This was not good news. Miri is in danger.

You felt the blood rushing to your head, heartbeat pounding in your ear as you suspected that Rei’s father had something to do with this sudden change in plans. You followed Kazuki, ignoring the tightness in your chest that began to form with your sprit to match the man’s speed. At least Misaki’s building was a short distance away.

Kazuki burst in the apartment with his gun drawn to be met face to face with Ogino Ryo. You stayed behind, having no formal training with fighting. You grimace as you witnessed Ogino exert his force onto your friend. You managed to slip into the apartment unnoticed, grabbing a knife from the kitchen in the meanwhile as your main goal was to get to Miri’s side. You felt your heart drop as you saw Misaki hunched over in a pool of her own blood. She noticed your presence as she weakly gestured a limp finger towards the closed off room.

“Miri… in there…” she mouthed.

You opened the door to slide yourself in without drawing attention to the two men fighting, letting out a sigh of relief as you saw Miri’s sleeping form. You slid the knife in your back pocket as you quietly shuffled around the room to hastily pack Miri’s things, knowing that your duty as a caretaker was to get her to safety in that moment. You froze as you heard a gunshot and heard Kazuki grunting. You held your breath as you heard Miri shuffle. If she were to wake up and find her Papa and Mama gone, she would be utterly devastated and who knows how she would recover from that.

You breathed out a sigh of relief as you glanced at her sleeping form, unresponsive to the commotion outside. You felt tense again as the noises stopped and a set of footsteps could be heard closing into the room you were in. You held your breath as the doors were swung open with force, practically ripping them off their hinge. Ogino stood towering over you and Miri. He relentlessly aimed his handgun at Miri’s sleeping body.

“No!” You shouted in a fit of fury, throwing yourself in front of her to be a shield for any incoming bullets. A fiery numbing feeling was shot through your flesh as you collapsed on the ground. The adrenaline was pumping through your veins as you prepared to take more bullets from Ogino, but to both of your surprise, the cartridge was empty. He grunted as he turned back around to Kazuki. You felt your chest burning and the smell of flesh illuminate the air as you found the will to move next to Miri.

The blaring sounds of sirens closing into the apartment was never as relieving as that moment as you heard Kyu’s voice.

“This is the police, drop your weapons!”

Ogino shot a glare at you and Kazuki as he spat out, “Look after these two in their final moments. Cower in fear in the meantime.” He leapt from the balcony as he made his escape as Kyu entered the apartment after his stunt.

His eyes widened as he witnessed Misaki barely holding onto life on floor in a pool of her own blood as well as Kazuki who got shot by her side, yelling at her to keep hanging onto life for Miri’s sake. The pain hadn’t kicked in from your wound yet, but you scooped Miri up, stumbling out to place her in Kyu’s possession.

“That bastard left…” you managed to croak out before your vision got hazy and everything went dark.

The next thing you knew, you were in a rumbling vehicle barreling towards the unknown. You groggily whispered out, “Where are we?”

You were too quiet to be heard as man in the front kept driving on as the other shifted in his seat tending to his wounds. The adrenaline wore off but your vision was still fading as you noticed your blood soaked bandages through your sweater that Kazuki must have wrapped around you. You twitched as you tried to sit up, the pain from your bullet wound finally settling in. It felt like you had fallen from a five story building and you felt your body stiffen up but also that burning sensation was still there. You weren’t sure what state of injured you were in, if it was even a clean shot or not, but all you could do was trust that your friends would take you to safety. What a hellish day.

You let your consciousness fade away again until you heard a faint sound call your name through your haze. “(Y/N)... (Y/N) please…”

The warm coloured light illuminated the room as a familiar face appeared in your vision. The loose hair piece dangling from dark coloured locks with a worrisome look added to the ache in your chest. “Rei,” you mumbled, reaching for his hand. You felt his warmth over your cold digits as you realized the state you were in. You weren’t sure if the hit was a fatal one or how much blood you had lost, but you knew you were safe in his arms. You saw him lower his head as he grit his teeth. Unbeknownst to you, a tear trickled down his face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

“Rei… never apologize. Please continue to take care of Miri, and support Kazu,” you uttered out with the little strength that you had.

“No, shut up, don’t say that!!” he raised his voice. You shook your head, everything felt numb.

“All I ask is that, you don’t forget about me and help Miri live a long happy life,” you smiled weakly. You slid your hand down to your wallet and tugged at the photo that Rei left you earlier that day. Your breath hitched as you struggled, Rei took notice. You let the photo fall from your fingers onto his as you saw the tears well up in his ducts. “

‘M sorry I left this behind too. I’m done with my father, so please… don’t leave me,” he confided in a whisper.

“Tell Miri that I’ll always love her like my own, Kazuki that his cooking is the best I’ve ever had…and promise me that you’ll keep on living too, protecting our family.”

Rei felt his heart shatter. You couldn’t die, you weren’t supposed to, and it was all because of him? Why didn’t Kyu and Kazuki take you to a hospital? He let out a exacerbated sigh and gripped your hand tightly, acknowledging how cold you really are. You now looked so pale, like all the life drained from your face and took away your smile.

”Stop it. Our family means that you’re in it with me… I need you with me. Lemme see your wound and change your bandages,” he mumbled, letting a tear slip from his hardened expression.

You felt his hands gently caress your shoulders and your back, lifting you to inspect your wound. You winced at the onset of pain as you moved any sort of way, feeling the pulsating burning sensation around your wound. His face was drained of colour as he unwrapped your bandages and saw the state of the hit.

“Kazuki, we need to go to the hospital… NOW,” he yelled out shakily to his partner. Maybe it is worse than you thought.

You tugged at Rei’s sleeve as you felt your vision fading again. “You’re here now… protecting me. It’s okay Rei, I’m just glad… you’re here.”

“Stay with me, please…” he begged. As gently as he could, he tried to maneuver you to wrap another layer of bandages on to stop the bleeding that continued to pool out. You felt the burning pain again but this time a hundred times worse. Clinging onto Rei for his warmth, you nestled yourself into his form.

“I love you Rei, it’s okay…” You mustered your strength to press your lips on his one more time before you fell limp again.

He stared at you blankly in his arms, holding you close to him for a split second until he realized that he needed to get you to a hospital immediately. You had lost a fair amount of blood and the pressure only did so much to stop the bleeding. Unbeknownst to anybody yet, the bullet had not gone through clear and it had hit your aorta next to your heart and lodged up in between the bones your scapula resulting in severe blood loss. You had accepted your fate after jumping in front of Miri, your protective instinct to protect the precious life of the one that you had raised for almost a year with the man that brought you the most joy you had ever been with.

Rei sat in the back of the car with you, not letting you leave his sight and keeping you in his embrace as you faded in and out of consciousness. Kyutaro was driving as fast as he could, leaving Kazuki back at their safe house to keep an eye out on Miri just in case she wakes up. Rei felt tense, stiff, and anxious that he was going to lose you. He noticed how your breathing became shallower throughout the car ride, and he held his breath knowing you were holding onto dear life.

He whispered to you, “You’ll be ok. You’ll make it…” but he knew that it was false hope. He intertwined his fingers with yours, feeling almost no warmth from the hands that once held his carefreely.

Everything felt cold to you now, the pain was long gone and you could only see streaks of light in your vision. All the sounds around you became high pitched and jumbled as you registered that you were being wheeled into an operating room, but that was the last thing that you would remember experiencing. That and Rei’s fleeting touch in your last moments, his figure hunched over your hospital bed as he pressed his lips against your forehead for the last time. The last sensation of his tears dripping onto your face as you fade out for the last time.

“I love you.”

“Please (Y/N), I love you,” he croaked out, his voice hoarse cursing at himself when he was alone.

It had been days since you had entered the hospital, and those days he sat by your bedside watching you. It had been days since he had last eaten anything too or gotten sufficient sleep. When you had been wheeled into the operating room, they had done their very best to supply you with blood and announced a triage to supply you with the best care as per Rei’s request. Ultimately, the bullet had struck a vital connection and performing surgery on that area had a high risk of failure, but it was either that or wait for the body to heal itself which was also a gamble that the odds were not in favor for.

He watched as you were hooked up to machines, breathing through technology, and all he could do was feel anger at himself for not standing up for his family earlier and the wrath of his father, causing him to lose the love of his life as a consequence of his actions. He grit his teeth as he heard a concerning sound, the high pitched flat lining indicator that you were now gone. All he could do was stare, stare at your lifeless form now laying beneath him. In his hand held the picture of the two of you together, a prized possession that could never be recreated now. He let the tears fall down as the hospital staff rushed in, aware that not even the highest dose of epinephrine or electric shock could bring your body back to how it used to be, or resurrect the smile that you held as you looked at him lovingly.

Being functional was an overestimate for Rei, but a lot can change in ten years, including the last promise that he made to you. He started off his day, doing simple hand curls and exercises to regain control back in his right arm that he blew out as a means of protecting his family from his wretched father. He was at a point where he could hold items and perform basic chores and even lift his arm above his head again.

He slicked his hair back in a ponytail as he used to, letting two loose strands dangle down in front of his face. He smiled to himself, remembering how it felt when you tied his hair back for him, the feeling of your delicate digits run through his scalp. How could he forget. He gazes longingly at the picture of the two of you at his bedside table every morning and night. Next to it was a family photo with you holding Miri, smiling next to him and Kazuki being silly on the other side of you. He had many more photos of you covered in his room, but those two were his favourites.

It still hurt, it hurts everyday knowing that his bloodline robbed him of his happiness, your happiness, and most importantly your life. The promise that he made to you was enough to keep him going, and to propel him to become a capable individual that took care of his partner and daughter. He stepped out into the diner that he and Kazuki now owned, ready to make Miri her favourite breakfast as it was her first day of high school. Oh how the time flies by.

Your strength was what made him continue, to him, your memory will carry on.

#buddy daddies x reader #rei suwa x reader #rei suwa imagine #buddy daddies imagine #kazuki kurusu #rei suwa #suwa rei #kurusu kazuki #miri unasaka #anime x reader #anime imagines #anime angst #buddy daddies angst #buddy daddies spoilers #kal writes #ghoulpixels #im not sure how to feel ab this i dont like writing character death in general fjfkjf #taken straight from canon and inserted you in there tho

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unrequitedloveletter · 1 year

Text

Tear The World Apart- Jesper Fahey x tidemaker! reader

Okay!! This was requested by an anon, and anon, if you’re seeing this, I hope you like it!! I really liked the request and I was super excited to have the opportunity to write it out, and I am so sorry that this took two weeks! I promise, I meant to get it out before finals weeks started, but it started and my ability to be a productive writer went out the window because of studying. Also, if I got any of the specifics wrong, I am an idiot who has a shit memory and I couldn’t find the request that I responded to because of tumblrs shitty search system, so I apologize!

Anon asked for a slowburn, so I went ahead and had the candle burning for a decent five years, and I did two scenes per year! I meant to keep this from getting too long but I think it may have anyway, and regardless, anon, I hope you enjoy!

fic type- theres fluff, there’s angst, there’s a bit of hurt/comfort and some yearning tossed in there for the sake of it.

warnings- a LOT of death here (the reader almost dies twice--oops?) the reader sometimes wants Kaz dead and that’s discussed, poisons, stabbings, explosions and the shrapnel from those explosions leaving cuts are discussed, fire and water are both discussed a fair bit, guns and gunsmoke, and stitching up wounds are mentioned.

SEVENTEEN

You’d gone to Ketterdam with the start of the Ravkan Civil War, when you were fifteen years old. You had no plans, just the money given to you by Genya as she ushered you onto a boat that would take you to Fifth Harbor, the kefta that’d been on your back and the clothes that you’d stashed into the crossbody bag you carried.

You ended up at the Slat in search of a spot to live. Kaz had given you a decently sized room and called it a day. You ended up joining the Dregs twelve hours later, after summoning the moisture from the air and using it to shield Kaz from a stray dagger that’d been heading for his neck.

Two weeks later, Jesper joined the Dregs. Your rooms were across the hall from one another, and a friendship formed fast. You were at each others sides nearly all the time, and by the time that Inej and Nina joined up, they’d thought you to be a couple.

As much as you wished for that, such wasn’t the truth. By seventeen, you’d well and truly fallen in love with Jesper. You never said anything for fear of the love being unrequited, and most days, you just relished the casual way in which one of Jespers arms would wrap around your shoulders, the use of the silly nicknames that he used with mostly everyone else.

And still, even despite the fact that some days, the fact that you hadn’t confessed to him made your throat close up and your heart break bit by bit, you carried on.

You let yourself into Jespers room at the Slat. You refilled his kettle, found something to make a quip about, teased him over the new addition of the coffee press he’d bought the week before.

“At least my room is not barren of any sign of life,” Jesper said with a grin as you took mugs from the drawer of his dresser that he’d devoted to them. A total of six mugs were stashed there, the rest of the space being occupied with tea, various different kinds of coffee, a few sugar packets, some powdered sweetened milk, and a couple of wooden stirring sticks.

You scoffed. “My room is not barren,” you said, placing the mugs on the dresser. You touched a hand to the kettle, filling it with water without thinking. “I have my books. I have a chest with my clothes, a few mementos from home.”

“How many books is it, exactly?” Jesper asked. You turned to glance at him as he sat up, smirk playing at his lips. “Ten, perhaps?”

“Fifteen.”

“Nerd.”

“Coffee addict.”

“Tea addict,” Jesper said as he stood. “Really, Y/N. When you think about it, you’re no better than I am.”

You flipped the switch on the bottom of the kettles handle, grabbing sugar packets, stirring sticks, and coffee grounds as you waited for it to ring out a seven-toned song indicating that the water had finished boiling.

“Well, the fact that I’ve saved you from drowning twice might just beg to differ a little bit,” you said. Jesper shook his head as he grabbed the coffee press, taking the top off and pouring a roughly estimated three tablespoons of coffee grounds into the bottom.

“I’ve saved you from three stray bullets and a shiv made of fabrikator altered Grisha steel,” Jesper said pointedly. You laughed, tilting your head back and looking away for a moment.

Neither of you ever really kept score of how many times you’d saved one anothers lives through those years. You only brought it up in times like those, ones wherein jokes and quips were at the forefront of your minds. Never had you, never would you, use the times you’d saved his life against him, and in turn, neither would he.

Jesper grinned, grabbing one of the mugs you’d put out as the kettle sang it’s seven toned song. He poured some of the water into his coffee press, stirring it before putting the lid back on and letting it sit.

You took the kettle shortly after he’d placed it next to your mug, the both of you succumbing to silence as you made your drinks of choice.

“Come down to the shops with me today?” Jesper asked. “Need to get a bit more tea, as it seems, and I have to get a bit of dry cleaning. These chores are a lot less tedious with company.”

You scoffed. “I’ll buy the tea, podge.”

“I buy the tea, you buy the coffee?”

“Fine, coffee addict.”

Jesper laughed as he pulled the lever down, pouring the scalding coffee into his mug thereafter.

“Nerd,” he said.

“The nerd whom you consider a best friend.”

Jesper shrugged. “Luck of the unlucky draw.”

“Dickhead.”

Jesper laughed again, and you bumped your elbow against his arm. He repeated the gesture as you finally took a sip of your tea, trying to allow it some time to steep in the water and the packet of powdered milk you’d stirred in.

You drank your coffee and tea as you made idle conversation. Jesper mentioned the heist that Kaz had planned. You talked about how the payout was to be good--fifteen thousand kruge for a relatively large mansion in the western area of the financial district. For an easy job and a credible employer, the money was amazing--and joked about making a few jabs at Kaz’s expense.

When you left the Slat, you left it with Jespers arm around your shoulders, grin on your face, yearning consuming every part of your being as you moved. It was heartbreaking, really, and you knew that, but for the sake of yours and Jespers friendship, you would remain quiet in your yearning, object simply to suffer in silence.

Jesper laughed as he watched you pull your winter kefta off your shoulders later that night.

You’d gone with each other to run your errands. A trip for tea, coffee, and dry cleaning quickly turned from that into a trip for tea, coffee, dry cleaning, a place that sold daggers and a good cleaner for Jespers revolvers, pastries, a new book that you’d wanted that’d released the weeks before, and a stop at the Ravkan Embassy to get a letter that Genya had sent along, one with updates on things in Ravka, one in search of updates on things in Ketterdam.

“Tired?” Jesper asked.

“Don’t even,” you said, laughing to yourself as you joined him, sitting on your bed to take off the boots you’d worn. You rested your cheek against Jespers shoulder absentmindedly, not even realizing you’d done it until Jesper rested his cheek against the side of your head. “The amount of walking that was done today was entirely my fault, so I brought this on myself, but still.”

Jesper laughed again. “Yeah, fair enough,” he said. “We’ll take tomorrow off. I’ll bring the kettle, the mugs, the tea. We’ll relax in here.”

You grinned as you reached down, untying the laces that’d held your boots together to that point. You pulled the first one off and left it where it was, adjusting your foot so that the tips of your toes were against the floor, the heel of your foot just millimeters away from your bed frame. You stretched your toes, feeling yourself relax as the tenseness and the sore feeling gave way to relief.

You repeated the process with your other foot as Jesper left, returning with a basket. In the basket? Mugs, tea, and a kettle.

You reached out, touching your finger to the kettle and watching with a slight smirk as it filled with water. Jesper grinned at you as you forced yourself to stand on your feet, putting your kefta on a coat rack as Jesper plugged the kettle in and pressed the small button at the bottom of the handle.

“You all right, love?”

Your heart stuttered at the nickname.

“Well and good,” you said. “Feet hurt, is all. Nothing of real concern.”

“We’ll drink tea and hope we’re asleep before sunset but awake after sunrise, then,” Jesper said. “I’ll make sure that Kaz knows we can’t handle much of anything.”

You hummed as you fell onto your bed, head falling against the pillow. “Thank you, Jes.”

��Anything for you, Y/N.”

You hummed again. “Ditto.”

You let your eyes close, listening to Jesper as he talked about the Ice Court. Nothing had been so grandeur, so extravagant, in the days since then. You all took home your cuts of the money. Nina and Matthias had left. Inej took to the seas, Jan Van Eck was arrested and Wylan moved into the old mansion with his mother.

You and Jesper had remained in the Slat, for better or for worse. Jesper paid off his debts and you helped him put some stakes in the markets. He still gambled, by doing that, but it was less gambling, more the act of making investing smartly and cautiously. You had helped him get comfortable in his abilities as a Fabrikator, and as a result, stopped shielding your abilities as a Tidemaker, though it was such a big part of your identity in the beginning.

Jesper passed you a cup of tea after a few minutes, once you’d sat up and positioned your back so it was against the wall, pillow moved to the side so that you avoided sitting on it.

He sat next to you, shoulders touching yours.

“We deserve a few days off, right?” He asked as he cheers’d his mug against yours. “I mean, we haven’t taken a day off since the Ice Court. It’s been months.”

“Kaz will probably allow it,” you said. “After the Ice Court, I made it very clear that if he ever denied me an off day, I would start taking his fingers. I worked off almost dying on the behalf of that bastard. The money made it worth it at the time, yeah, but if he doesn’t want us taking an off day, I’ll rip his bloody head off.”

Jesper sighed, grinning slightly, and a silence draped over the two of you.

It was a silence that acknowledged everything that’d happened the day of the Ice Court. It was a silence that acknowledged the fact that you had come very close to dying, the fact that it’d been Jesper who found you.

It’d been Jesper who found you, Jesper who carried you when the last of the adrenaline left your body and your legs gave out. Jesper had gotten you onto the boat, had been the one to grip your hand like a lifeline while Nina did her best to keep you alive enough to get to Ketterdam in one piece.

It’d been Jesper, the guy who you loved so much that it hurt to think about some nights. Jesper had saved your life that day, had gone through his own grief whilst your survival was still relatively uncertain.

You’d saved one anothers lives constantly in the two years since you’d joined the Dregs. It practically came with the job, and you’d never kept score because of how frequently you saved each others asses.

But, the big times were the ones you remembered. The times where the incident resulted in more than a few cuts in need of stitching, the times where bullets between the Dregs and another rival gang were exchanged, the times where it’d been you to remove the bullet and stitch Jespers wounds, were the ones that you kept in mind always.

The times where Jesper hadn’t shot fast enough and had gotten shot himself, the times where you found yourself faced by two Druskelle and didn’t escape without a few severe bruises and poisoned cuts and stab wounds because the Druskelle had begun poisoning their knives. Those times were the ones you remembered solemnly, the ones where you took a moment to feel grateful that the other was still alive.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d died,” Jesper whispered. “I really don’t. I--”

“You would’ve moved on,” you whispered, taking a sip of your tea. “You would’ve grieved, yeah, but you would’ve moved on eventually. I would’ve been nothing more than a series of fond memories, and as it stands now, I think I’m okay with that.”

“I have to think I may have gone insane,” Jesper whispered. “In theory, I could’ve survived without you, but in actuality? I really don’t think I would’ve made it a week.”

You let yourself grin, meeting his gaze as you rested your cheek on the edge of his shoulder.

“You flatter me, Mr. Fahey.”

Jesper grinned back at you. “Do I?” he asked. “Well, that’s always my goal.”

You laughed, lightly hitting his forearm. “Idiot.”

Jesper scoffed, resting his cheek against your head, free arm coming up to drape itself around your shoulders.

He took a deep breath in, a pause settling over the room for a moment.

“Nerd,” he finally said.

You laughed, rolled your eyes, and took a sip of your tea.

Even if Jesper never knew that you loved him, you could be enormously content in your friendship as it was.

You really could, even if it was just for moments as good as that one.

EIGHTEEN

Jesper was sixteen when he realized that he was in love with you, a year into your being part of the Dregs, a little less than a year into his career of criminality.

He often found himself trying to pinpoint the moment it’d happened, why he’d fallen in love with you at all, but after two years of trying, he found that there were simply too many times where he’d fallen in love without realizing it, too many reasons as to why.

Even still, part of him wondered, trying to find the exact moment, wanting to put the exact day, the exact time, in his mind so that he could commit it to his memory.

Was it the fact that you continued to make jabs at Kaz with only a grin to accompany them? Was it the fact that your bantering came so easily? Could it have been your admirable talents as a Tidemaker, your cadence when you used your small science, the fact that you had accepted it as an extension of yourself where Jesper had never quite found the strength to do so?

Those had all been reasons when he was sixteen, and they were reasons even still. After a while, it felt like a dozen more had been added to that list, though. It’d gone from having three things to at least thirty in the span of two years.

He’d fallen in love with you in what sometimes felt like a blink of time, and he’d been irrevocably, irreparably, in love with you ever since. In spite of it all, he never told you. Some part of him had long accepted that he never would.

So, when you were in Ravka in the last few days before a heist, walking through a town square in Os Alta when violin music pricked Jespers ears, he just grinned. He could handle the life he’d lived as it were. He could handle just being your friend. Really, he could.

The music picked up, and you shot Jesper a grin as people began to dance, some forming small circles throughout the square.

“Look for Nina,” you said. “She, Matthias, and Inej are west of us right now. Wylan is east. She’ll no doubt be pulling them into the crowds the second the music hits her ears. They’ll find us, and we’ll be stuck dancing, hand in hand.”

Kaz had given you the last days before the heist off.

That day, you got the day in full so that you could enjoy some time in your hometown. It’d been a kindness on Kaz’s part, and a demand on yours, and Kaz had known you long enough to know your threats to be the truth if you were provoked.

You’d get the morning of the next day off, too, and Jesper had already found himself excited at the prospect of going to the cafe you always went to whenever you found yourself back in Ravka, claiming that they made the best biscuits and served the best coffee you’d ever tasted.

“You don’t sound like you hate that idea,” Jesper said pointedly as the violin music continued on.

“I don’t. You don’t hear much Ravkan dancing music on violins in Ketterdam. They’re operated by greed, by money and all of the different ways to get rich, even more so the ways to stay rich. If you find yourself in the right Ravkan town, people only care about money when they don’t have enough to make ends meet,” you said. Jesper watched you fill an empty water barrel in passing, watched you liven up a roaring water fountain with only the act of you extending your arm.

“Everyone in my hometown loved it,” you continued, grinning reminiscently. “Oh, before the days of Grisha training, I used to go out with my parents every Saturday. We would walk to the town square, one that, from my memory, didn’t look much different than this one, and we would shop until the violins started. Once they did, we would put our bags with a shopkeeper we trusted and dance until our feet started hurting. I used to love getting to leave the Little Palace on trips, absentmindedly bopping my head to the sound with Nina as we weaved from one shop to the next.”

Jesper found himself grinning. “My mum used to love dancing, too,” he said. “She and my dad used to dance in the kitchen all the bloody time. He had cassettes of dancing music from the Wandering Isle, and they used to dance until they couldn’t because they were laughing. Simpler times, then.”

You shot him a grin, nodding. “Simpler times indeed.”

It wasn’t long before Inej was grabbing your hands whilst Nina grabbed Jespers, pulling the two of you into a circle that was almost the size of the square itself as the music continued.

Jesper, even despite all of his attempts not to, kept finding his eyes trailing to you. He watched you dance, weaving under other people and jumping, taking the hands of those with whom you encountered, allowing yourself to be spun by those when it came time for such a move in the dance itself, and felt his heart lighten.

Eventually, you spun where Jesper walked back six steps, as the dance steps dictated, and he found himself in your company once more.

“Nice moves,” he said, smirk playing at the corners of his lips. You scoffed.

“Better moves from you,” you said. “I’m rusty. Haven’t danced like this in a bit.”

Jesper shrugged, stepping back twice and stepping to the left, stepping forward once. “Couldn’t tell,” he said. “Seriously. You’re a natural at this.”

“Reflex, then,” you said. “I’m using the money we get from the heist to come back around here for a bit.”

“Mind if you have company?”

“I was about to ask if you would enjoy a few weeks in a small Ravkan town, actually,” you laughed, and Jesper registered finally, that he would give up a thousand of all of the sunsets that he would see if it meant he got to hear the sound of your laugh even just one more time before he was never allowed to hear it again. “Would you join me, Jesper?”

“Of course I would,” Jesper said. “Only a fool would pass that up, and I am not a fool.”

A laugh bubbled up from your throat as Jesper spun you, and Jesper allowed himself one as you wrapped your arms around him suddenly, pulling him into a hug for a moment.

Just as quickly as the hug had begun, it ended. Jesper turned to find that you had once again joined the group that laughed and danced in a large circle. He shot you a smirk before joining, interlacing your fingers and registering it. His heart was full. He was content. It was a feeling that Jesper Fahey never wanted to go away.

“You’re a fool, you know that?” Inej asked a few days later. The heist had been successful, and they were on the boat back. “You’re a bloody fool, Jesper.”

Jesper shrugged, leaning against the railing of the boat as he took a sip of his whiskey. “I am not a fool, thank you.”

Inej scoffed. “You’re in love with Y/N L/N, and you’re being a fool about it.”

“I am not, and because I am not, there is nothing about which I can be a fool at the current,” Jesper denied, though he knew that the effort was slightly futile. “I am not in love with them. How dare you.”

“You’re not offended by it because it’s the bloody truth,” Inej rebutted. “Stop being a fool about it. You’re allowed to fall in love with them, Jesper. I honestly thought it would’ve been Nina if it hadn’t been you.”

“I resent you.”

“No you don’t.”

“And if I do?”

“Then stop resenting me long enough to confess your bloody feelings, Jesper,” Inej said. “We can all see it. Stop pretending.”

“And if I say no?”

Inej sighed, clearly exasperated. “Fine, then. Be an idiot. When you lose your chance, though, it’ll be entirely your fault.”

Jesper sighed. “I promise, I’ll tell them, I’m just waiting for the right time. I wanted to tell them in Ravka, but--”

“Don’t you dare call yourself a coward,” Inej said, cutting Jesper off before he had the chance. “Tell them by the time you’re twenty five, if you still love them by then, or you will be stuck paying for the repairs on my boat for all the years you wasted in your silly little mindset of constant yearning.”

Jesper allowed himself a grin. “The deal is the deal.”

“Bloody well it is,” Inej agreed. “Enjoy your whiskey.”

Jesper shrugged, eyes going to the skyline to watch the sun as it disappeared behind the horizon. “I’ll do my best, Captain Ghafa.”

Inej scoffed as she walked away, and Jesper rolled his eyes, grin settling onto his face as he rested his forearms against the railing, content to watch the ocean and the skyline until he grew sick of it.

NINETEEN

You sighed, pulling one of Jespers jumpers onto your torso as you grabbed a book from your night stand, having lit a candle to act as lighting in the moments before.

Jesper had been on a mission you’d been unable to go on because of how injured the last one had left you--a few broken rips, a dislocated wrist that you’d popped back into place and wrapped with the proper bandaging, and a scar across your face that was only healing because of an ointment given to you by a healer, one that they’d made in partnership with a medik to alleviate the pain and heal the scar after three weeks--and the fact that you couldn’t go wasn’t one that you minded at all.

The rest was good, necessary. You’d taken to reading, enjoying Jespers visits when he was around and wearing his sweaters when he wasn’t, but that night was different.

Yearning was something that you rarely experienced. It was that innate, painful desire that you felt pulling down on your heartstrings, something that you were never upset to see go but never quite so shocked when you felt it again, wrapping itself around your shoulders and seeping into your skin, finding its way to your blood before it made itself a home in your heart.

You didn’t know what, exactly, you’d been yearning for, but the book, the candle, Jespers sweater, hadn’t been enough, as it seemed. Nor had the warm bath you’d taken, the bourbon that you’d poured yourself earlier. Even the tea you’d made couldn’t distract you from it.

So, you settled down with your book. You forced yourself to focus on the pages, read until a gust of late summer wind blew past your window and took out the flame in your candle.

You refilled your kettle. You made tea, you drank it as you lit the candle again and closed the window to avoid the breeze, picked up your book and read from where you’d left off, mug of tea in your hand and a change in the time having been the only real changes.

Around four bells that morning, when you’d long blown out the candle, finished your tea, and tried to get to sleep, you gave up. You left your room, headed down to the first floor, and found the bar.

You found Jesper sitting at one of the tables in the din. You ducked underneath the bar whilst trying to make as little sound as possible. You grabbed a glass, grabbed some brandy. When Jesper looked up at the sound and you met his gaze, the yearning you’d been dealing with only intensified, and you realized that the one thing that your heart craved was the one thing that Jesper would never give you.

You wanted him to know how much he’d come to mean to you, wanted him to understand that you’d loved him since you were sixteen and there were no signs that you would ever stop loving him.

“You’re still awake?” Jesper asked.

You hummed. “Couldn’t sleep,” you said. “When I get hurt, I find it impossible. Everything always hurts for the first few weeks. Then the pain dulls out a bit and I return to my normal sleeping habits. How was the heist?”

“Without you, it just wasn’t the same, really,” Jesper said. You watched him get up, watched him move so that he was sitting at the bar counter. “Missed you a lot, if I’m honest.”

“I missed you too.” You poured yourself a glass of brandy, grabbed another and poured Jesper a whiskey. “Tonight kind of sucked, honestly.”

Jesper laughed. “Oh, don’t even get me started.”

You scoffed, took a sip of your brandy where Jesper drank half the whiskey in his glass. “Easy day tomorrow, then?”

“We’re going to brunch. It’s been decided by yours truly, and any attempts to get out of it will be met with bribery to trick you into coming,” Jesper said. “When do we leave for Ravka?”

“Two days.”

“I am so excited,” Jesper said. “A vacation. Haven’t gotten one since we started.”

“We’ve gotten vacation days.”

“A vacation day once in a bloody blue moon is not the same thing as a vacation,” Jesper said. “Three weeks. We’ll be in Ravka for three weeks. No orders from Kaz, no Crow Club patrons who get so drunk that they make fools of themselves by spilling their beer down their shirts, no rival gangs or shitty coffee, nothing but bliss.”

You laughed. “You’ve thought this through.”

“Down to the last minute detail,” Jesper agreed. “Dancing in square is definitely in our cards again, though. That was fun.”

You grinned, remembering that day the year before. “Yeah. It really was.”

“That’s my sweater, isn’t it?” Jesper asked, hands beginning to drum rapidly against the table top. “I’ve been looking for that for an age! I must’ve forgotten having lent it to you.”

“I can give it back, Fahey.”

“Don’t worry too much about it, love,” there it was, the same heart-flutter you always experienced whenever Jesper called you that. “It looks a lot better on you, anyway.”

You snorted, taking another sip of your brandy. “Well, I really should be going.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jesper said. “See you tomorrow. We’re getting breakfast.”

You laughed. “Bribe me with tea, or I’m not going anywhere!” You called as you walked up the stairs. You heard Jespers laughter in response, finished the brandy and let yourself grin. You walked back to your room, fell into bed and fell asleep soon after.

Over the following weeks, you gave Jesper a tour of your favorite spots in Os Alta. The cafe that you and Nina used to go to whenever you were allowed to go on trips out, the cliffside alcove you’d found, where you loved to watch the sunrise and sunset as it was accompanied by the waves that you held so dearly. You showed him your favorite shops, your favorite places to eat.

You laughed and danced when the violin music inevitably started up from somewhere, and you felt the closest to alive as you had felt since you’d left Ravka, since you’d joined the Dregs, met Jesper, and ended up where you’d been.

The mornings, you found, were becoming one of your favorite parts of your day. You and Jesper would wake and meet one another in the kitchenette in your hotel. You would make tea and Jesper would make coffee.

“What’s on the itinerary for today?” Jesper asked, adjusting the collar of the sweater he’d worn. “I think we relax for a bit. Visit the square for breakfast, find a spot and just exist for a while. I really loved the alcove you showed me last week. Grab a few blankets, a book and some good food, and we’re set to stay there until sunset.”

“That’s perfect. We’ve got some of the food we picked up from the markets yesterday, and I brought along a book as it was. A few, actually. Figured I would need a couple to occupy my time on the boat ride back,” you said. “Any ideas in mind for breakfast?”

“The spot near the eastern side? The one with the forest green overhang with the ketterdam style waffles?”

“Again, Fahey, that’s perfect. You’re perfect.” The words befell your lips before you could think about it, but Jesper only grinned, brushing them with a sarcastic quip.

“I know I am, love. You really don’t need to tell me, though the flattery is welcome.”

“Fool.”

“Best friend of a fool, then,” Jesper rebutted. You laughed, rolled your eyes, grin remaining on your face as you took a sip of your tea.

Thereafter, the both of you got dressed and went out, talking and laughing over breakfast before you grabbed a few blankets and some food to take with you to the alcove.

You spent the day reading and talking, making jokes at one anothers expenses as you always did. You laughed, joked and listened to Jespers voice when, after a while, he began to sing.

When sunset came, he sat next to you, the both of you watching the skyline.

“I love this view,” you said. “I used to love it before the war took over. The Darkling took so much from the citizens of Ravka with the creation of the Fold. Selfishly, I’m really glad that the Shadow Fold didn’t swallow this.”

“As am I,” Jesper said. “It’s beautiful out here. Spending the day here was well worth it. This entire vacation has been, I think.”

You hummed. “I’ve missed it here so much. I left when the war started, and I’ve spent my days yearning to be back here ever since. Ketterdam is incredible, and it is home, certainly, but it is just not this one.”

“I would come here every year, if it was an option,” Jesper said.

You laughed. “With the money we get from heists every year, it may just be. I’m still using the money from the Ice Court.”

There it was again, that catalyst. The one thing that could bring you both to silence, remembering that series of events and feeling intense gratefulness as you remembered that both of you had made it out, even if you had done so critically injured.

“I really would’ve lost it had you died,” Jesper whispered. “I would’ve been worse than Kaz’s nightmares. I would’ve ripped every single Druskelle in the Ice Court to shreds.”

“You wouldn’t’ve,” you said. “You just fancy the idea.”

“I would’ve,” Jesper said. “I don’t think I could manage a life without you in it, seriously.

“Do you aim to flatter me?”

“Always,” Jesper said. “You look cute when you’re flustered.”

You snorted, eyes going to the sunset. “Thank you, Jesper.”

“For what?”

“For saving my life that day. For saving my life so many times in the days since.”

“Always,” Jesper said.

You grinned.

“Always,” you echoed.

TWENTY

“Stop calling me an idiot,” you laughed, arm in arm with Nina as the two of you walked down Fifth Harbor. “Seriously. I’m not an idiot.”

“Only an idiot would fall in love with their best friend and still, even after five years, persist in their efforts to avoid telling him anything.”

“I’m only slightly idiotic,” you gave. Nina laughed.

“At least you see it, then.”

You shrugged as Nina opened the door belonging to the Kooperom. “I like to think I’m at least slightly self aware.”

She laughed again, unlinking your arms as the two of you approached the table, where Jesper, Wylan, Inej and Matthias already sat. Kaz sat down a solid second and a half before you did, almost making you jump in fear when you noticed his presence.

“What are you two discussing?” Wylan asked.

You shrugged, thanking Jesper as he mentioned that he’d ordered you a tea. “Nothing of real importance.”

“Nothing of real importance sure does create a fair bit of laughter,” Wylan said pointedly.

“Well, Nina has always been quite humorous,” Inej offered. You shot her a grateful look, which she only returned with a knowing smile.

From there, someone picked up the conversation, and your little exchange was forgotten. You and Jesper laughed, joked and drank more tea and coffee than what could possibly be considered the healthy amount.

“And then, there is the matter of Nina and Matthias’ wedding,” Wylan said. The matter brought you back into the conversation, ripped you from your reverie as you grinned. Nina and Matthias had been engaged for two months. Their wedding was to be ten months from then, a small ceremony that they were planning to have in Ravka. “Ten months out, Ravka, open bar, are you excited?”

Wylans words got Nina into a ramble, but you listened happily. Nina had been your best friend whilst you both lived in the Little Palace. Even despite the general clique-ness of the different orders, you always found yourselves together when your instructors granted you permission to go into the cities. She was one of the last people you’d seen before Genya had bought the boat ticket, had shipped you off to Ketterdam in the hope that you would’ve found a better life whilst things looked bleak rather than hopeful.

Eventually, the conversation shifted.

“Anything from Genya in recent?” Jesper asked, knowing that the two of you still sent letters through the Ravkan embassy.

“Nothing of importance,” you said. Nothing pertaining to anything that could’ve mattered to anyone aside from Nina. Information about Grisha that you’d helped free and get back to Ravka, back to the Little Palace, where they were safe and harm wasn’t a thing that was coming to them. “Minor stuff, about which I’ll update Nina on in a while, but no. Nothing that matters, if I can be honest.”

“If it matters to you, it matters to me.”

“And you say you aren’t in love with them,” Wylan said, shooting Jesper a teasing grin. He laughed, and you laughed, neither of you acknowledging the desire to verify the claim or deny it. “That might just be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve seen you flirt your way into several drinks.”

You shook your head, grin on your face. “You’ll have to teach me, then.”

“This from the person who’s an expert at it? I watched you flirt a shopkeeper into a free bag of toffees for Nina whilst we were in Ravka last year, and just last week, you charmed your way into a free stack of waffles.”

“Which we split!”

“Yeah, and thank you for the mostly free breakfast, but you’re not the student, Y/N. You’re the bloody teacher.”

“I learned it from the best.”

“There it is again! The charms! I will not be beguiled by you over waffles.”

You shrugged. “Much too late now, isn’t it?”

Jesper laughed, bringing his coffee cup to his lips. “May as well be, I suppose.”

Inej shot you a knowing look once more. “We’ve somehow just discovered there are three flirts in this group rather than two! Wonderful, I might say.”

“I’m not a flirt, I’m just very convincing.”

Jesper snorted. “Yeah, like the time you convinced the shopkeeper to give you chocolates on a bet?”

“Kaz paid me a thousand kruge. I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Those chocolates weren’t worth the thousand kruge they cost me,” Kaz rumbled. “Never again. I would offer 250 kruge, at best.”

“250 kruge is still 250 kruge,” you said, shrugging.

The food was brought out, all of you ate, and breakfast was done. You walked back to the Slat with Jesper on your right, neither of you saying much of anything as you moved.

You got back to the Slat, retiring to your rooms with Jesper discussing the next heist. You grinned as you grabbed a book off of your nightstand. Even if he wasn’t your boyfriend, he really did make you feel like you were incredibly lucky to be able to call him a friend nonetheless.

You sighed as you woke, registering the sound of the waves through the open window, the scent that Jesper carried with him, the smell of cedarwood and gun smoke.

You knew it because you knew him, and you were almost entirely sure that you would know him in death. You would know him until you physically could not know him anymore, until the sound of his voice was forgotten by your ears and the distinctiveness of his scent was forgotten by your nose.

“Is everyone--” You found yourself trying to speak, though those were the only words you could manage before Jesper butted in. You couldn’t remember much, though you knew that there had been an explosion, and that, when you were to return to Ketterdam, you would likely never be allowed to set foot in the Wandering Isle ever again. Even despite Kaz’s best efforts, the heist had still gone sideways.

“They’re fine. Everyone is fine,” Jesper whispered. “Most of us had made it out before the explosion hit. The only other injuries we have on board are Nina and her sprained finger, Inejs dislocated shoulder, and a couple of painful bruises. Matthias popped Inejs shoulder back into place, the medik helped Ninas hand well enough. We’re all fine, Y/N. Everything is okay.”

You blinked slowly, found yourself wanting to close your eyes and rest them even still. You were awake, and though you knew that you should’ve been aiming to stay that way, you still wanted sleep. You practically yearned for it.

Jesper grabbed your hand delicately.

“Stop treating me like I’m an eggshell. I won’t break if you don’t be gentle enough, Jesper.”

“You almost lost your left lung. The bruises you sustained are some of the worst bruises the medik had ever seen, and even Nina, the optimist, was unsure if you’d make it. You’re not fine, and I will hold your hand as gently as I please to do so.”

“I resent you.”

“No, you don’t,” Jesper rebutted. “You love me.”

You hummed. He was right. You loved him, but he would never know the fullest extent to which you did.

“Thank you for saving my life,” you said.

“If you’d died, I would’ve ripped everyone to shreds. Kaz included.”

You grinned, let your eyes close. “Are you okay if I rest? Just for a bit, of course.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be one focused on conversation. Sleep as much as you need.”

“Stay, Jesper. Please.”

“Always.”

TWENTY-ONE

In the year after the heist that had resulted in an explosion, things had gone well. You recovered well, visited a healer to see to the worst of your bruises but kept the scars you got from the shrapnel that scraped past your body on it’s way to the ground, the pieces of glass that embedded themselves in your skin from the windowpanes.

Trips to Ravka became semi-annual. You and Jesper had begun going every other year, and on the final day of August, you returned to Ketterdam after a month spent in Ravka and another spent in Novyi Zem, visiting Jespers father for the month because it’d been a while since they’d seen one another.

“You look happy,” Nina noted with a grin as the two of you arrived in the Kooperom. “Well rested, overjoyed, even happy, dare I say, to be back in Ketterdam after so long without being here.”

“I’ve missed it, I will say,” Jesper said as the two of you sat down. “Ketterdam is a second home. I’ll miss it when I go, I think.”

“You intend to leave permanently?” Wylan asked.

“Not at all, for the moment,” Jesper said, but you found yourself recalling the many conversations you’d had about such an idea.

Both of you knew that Ketterdam had morphed itself into a home in the six years since you’d begun living there, but you also knew that Ketterdam may not have always felt like that. You discussed leaving, going either as an individual or leaving Ketterdam as a pair, and in the end, both of you realized that you probably wouldn’t be. Ketterdam was a home, and until you began to grow sick of it, leaving would only ever be a consideration, perhaps never more than an idea.

“Good,” Wylan hummed. “I would grow to miss watching you pine after someone you could have if you only asked.”

“I would do the same,” Nina said, elbowing your arm lightly. You and Jesper both laughed. When a waiter came around, you ordered yourself a tea, and you and Jesper got a stack of waffles to split. Conversation began, and through the breakfast, it continued easily.

You and Jesper fell back into your same rhythm, talking and finding the conversation jumbled with jabs and banter, sarcasm dotted amongst it like almost all of your conversations were. The conversations with Jesper came easily, just as they had for as long as you’d known him.

“I do think it would be good idea to go back to Novyi Zem,” you said. “I loved it there. It was a wonderful time.”

“My father certainly wouldn’t mind your company again,” Jesper agreed.

“You’ve gotten yourself the Colm Fahey stamp of approval?” Nina asked, shooting you a devious grin with a look in her eye to match it. “Ah, I hear that such thing is rather difficult to come by.”

Jesper shrugged his shoulders. “He likes the lot of you well enough, apparently, and Y/N is a wonderful person, so it wasn’t really shocking, if I’m honest. I figured he would’ve liked them.”

Nina shot you a look, and you rolled your eyes. You already knew what she was doing. She’d been trying to do it for four years.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Jesper said. “Seriously. Last words before we left? He told me to come again in winter. Almost tempted to take him up on that offer, thought about it a lot on the boat. Christmas in Novyi Zem is glorious, albeit not nearly as snowy as Ketterdam.”

You gave Jesper a grin. “I would love that, as long as we’re not intruding.”

Jesper shook his head. “He told me that he wouldn’t’ve minded if you came around again, too. Said that he thought you were good for me.”

“He told me the same. Said we seemed to be good for each other, if the amount of laughing we accomplished in contrast to the work on the farm was of any real indication,” you said, laughing slightly. “Oh, those days were fun. The jurda was good, too.”

“Eh, well, you can count on my father to get the first of his seed batches from good sellers,” Jesper agreed. “Made me bring some of it back, in case we were ever on night scouts for Kaz and need a kick to keep us up.”

“I’ll thank him when we go next, then.”

“November,” Jesper said. “Come back around early January. I’ll write to let him know we’ve taken him up on his offer.”

You grinned. “I can’t wait, then.”

Nina and Wylan both shot you looks that time, and you noticed the look that Inej shot Jesper, but such glances were ones that you both seemed keen on ignoring.

The breakfast finished up, and you and Jesper went in your separate ways. You went to the Crow Club to pick up a shift behind the bar, and Jesper went back to the Slat to enjoy his final day before he was back to bartending, per Kaz’s request.

Jesper found you nine hours later, mug of tea in hand as you sat on your windowsill, watching the sunset as it dawned across Ketterdam.

“Hey,” he said. You turned to look at him, gaze meeting his easily. “Figured you would be watching the sunset, though I will say, I did figure you’d be watching from Inej’s port at Fifth Harbor.”

“I wanted to have a night in, Jesper. Is that so criminal?”

“Not so criminal as our past actions, such as the many heists that we’ve helped Kaz pull off, the many heists that’ve resulted in you almost dying. It’s the two year anniversary of the explosion. I figured you would be thinking about that day, the days of the other heists in which you almost died, at some point. When we got back, I was almost anticipating it,” Jesper said. “You’re allowed to be upset with him, Y/N. Even as much as you’ve repressed that in the past few years. You’re allowed to be upset with the misgivings of those days.”

“I really don’t like that you can read me so well.”

“You love it, Y/N,” Jesper said. You scoffed.

“Fine, yes. I am thinking about it. And yes, Jesper. I thought about the Ice Court while I was working. I almost cut off three of Brekkers fingers for the miscalculations from that day. Thinking of it now, there is a part of me that wants to kill him even still,” you said. “But I will not, because he is my best friend, one of the only people in this city that I have found myself ready and willing to care about apart from you, and I understand that people can make mistakes sometimes and that the worst of those mistakes can be fatal.”

“I screamed at him on the boat,” Jesper said. “On the way back to Ketterdam from the Ice Court. I screamed at him because I thought it was reckless. I thought he was reckless, I told him that your life was worth more than all the money in the world and I berated him for not recognizing that.”

Jesper had known what would’ve happened if you’d died at the Ice Court. He knew it well enough because of how frequently the thought had come up. He would’ve become twice the ruthless man that Kaz was. He would’ve been broken, irrevocably and irreparably broken, and he would’ve killed every Druskelle that ever stepped foot in Ketterdam for any reason, regardless of what it happened to be.

“You matter more to me than anyone else, Y/N, and it’s quite so simple as that. I would tear the world apart just to find you in it’s depths. You should never expect less than that from me.”

Jesper watched you move, sitting on your bed with your mug of tea still in hand. He turned to go, stopped when he heard your voice.

“Stay,” you whispered. “I can’t be alone right now. Please, just stay.”

“Yeah,” Jesper agreed.

TWENTY-TWO

Since the anniversary of the heist in the Wandering Isle, you and Jesper seemed closer, an unspoken understanding having draped across the two of you at a point which neither of you could pin.

“You’re a lovesick idiot, is what you are,” Kaz said as he, Kaz, Inej, and Wylan approached a new, Dregs owned cafe that you’d purchased and helped run on Fifth Harbor. The waffles that were made by the cooks had been hand-picked recipes from a combination of different people in the Dregs, the coffee strong and the tea always made with two bags instead of one. “It’s about time you told them, don’t you think? Have you not found the right time after five bloody years?”

“No,” Jesper said. “That’s normal, though.”

“It’s not,” Wylan piped up. “It’s the opposite. Most people can only stand to pine for a year or two.”

“I’m different than most, I suppose.”

“In that you’re a lovesick idiot,” Kaz continued. “The Jesper I knew five years ago would’ve flirted his way into confessing the way he felt about Y/N by accident at seventeen years old and be engaged by now, in the least. You’re lovesick, idiotic, and you yearn like nobody I have ever seen.”

“What if they don’t--”

“They do,” Inej spoke. “You’re just oblivious, Jes. It comes with the whole lovesick thing.”

“It does not,” Jesper said.

“So then you admit to being lovesick?” Inej asked.

“I do not,” Jesper responded.

“He did,” Wylan said. “He just admitted it by accident. Congrats, Fahey. You’ve been in love with the same person for five years and haven’t done anything. Would you like an award?”

“I’ll take a free coffee,” Jesper rebutted.

“If you confess by the end of this week, Kaz will pay for the coffee you put in your coffee press for the next six months, and I’ll bring bourbon back from my voyages for you for the next year.”

“What if I don’t find the right time?”

“You will,” Kaz said. “Five years, and the right time is just waiting to be found, Jesper. I guarantee it.”

Jesper found himself at your side when the sun went down, the two of you drinking brandy as you talked. The conversation bounced from one thing to the next, and suddenly, you and Jesper found yourselves draped in silence.

It dawned on Jesper quickly. He’d waited five years to have the right time to confess. The right time was then. It had to have been, or Jesper felt entirely sure that he was going to explode, scream it from a rooftop so as to finally be able to say the words.

So, Jesper took a deep breath in. He took a sip of his coffee to psych himself out of nervousness, and when he met your gaze, he found that you were smiling.

“Can I tell you something?” Jesper asked.

You shrugged, taking a sip of your brandy. “Shoot, Jes.”

“I’m in love with you,” Jesper whispered. “I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen years old, and I just never--I could never figure out how to say it. I wanted to find the right time but then I never did.”

Your gaze moved to your glass of brandy, grin beginning to pull at the right corner of your lip. Jesper watched a grin overtake your face, though you said nothing even still.

“I love you too, Jesper,” you whispered after a few minutes had passed. “I love so much that it used to hurt to think about. I have loved you almost as long as I have known you, and hearing you say that to me was a shock because I never thought you could’ve felt the same.”

Jesper grinned, laugh falling from his lips as you finished the brandy. “We’re both idiots,” he said. You nodded.

“We are, aren’t we?”

Jesper finished his brandy, set the glass on the floor to his right. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

In the next second, Jespers lips are on yours, and you notice that he tastes like gum, brandy and cigarettes.

When your lips meet Jespers, he tastes brandy, waffles, and a hint of the mint gum you chewed while you were working.

The thing that the both of you had in common in that moment was the relief that flooded your every sense, overtaken only by the joy that befell you both mere moments later.

Jesper pulled away, pressed his forehead against yours, grinning as he fought the urge to lean back in.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you responded.

And, in that moment, Jesper was sure that his life was entirely too perfect, but he let himself enjoy it. He deserved a little perfection from time to time, and he let himself take it when you pressed your lips against his and his heart became so light that it could’ve floated out of his body and Jesper wouldn’t’ve cared because of how happy he’d been.

#jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone

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antiterf · 11 months

Text

"Gender identity and feeling a certain gender isn't like sexual orientation. We know what attraction is!"

Okay but can you explain the feeling of being attracted to someone? Can you do it without using symbolism? Can you do it without objectification? Without the "feeling" because feelings aren't objective? We have the term sexual attraction to describe sexual orientation, and we have gender identity to describe being transgender. Both have been neglected by psychology and other sciences in regard to LGBTQ+ people and most of the time, it is, at the end of the day, multiple different theories and not a single explanation.

It took me longer to recognize romantic attraction than it did for me to recognize my gender identity. I assumed that certain things were sexual attractions when they weren't. Many gay, lesbian, and ace people go through that second one because sexual attraction can never be objectively described.

I eventually figured out romantic attraction as the feeling I get when I think someone as cute, not from aesthetics but as a person. That is not exactly specific enough for most people to understand. When combined with sexual attraction it becomes a constant yearning for the person to be next to me, the feeling that part of me is missing when they leave. I cannot separate sexual attraction from romantic, but can separate romantic from sexual. If we're going blatantly then sexual attraction would also be my want to have sex with the specific person because their body alone gives me feelings of euphoria (oh we love the oxytocin), but when comparing that to gender, that would be a sexual expression like how pronouns and clothing are gender expression.

On top of that, I can only speak for myself. Others can and will report feelings that do not match mine, but they still use the same terminology because those feelings will still fall under attraction. Trying to restrict what is and what isn't a form of romantic or sexual attraction by personal experience isn't helpful and likely more harmful.

Gender identity was the feeling that something was off and that I had one foot in the door and one foot out. That something was missing until I put the key into place. It was the feeling of euphoria when hearing my preferred name. It's the comfort I get when there's some compression on my chest because I associate binders with relief and happiness. But wait... wouldn't that second one be instead feelings of transsexualism?

I don't fucking know dude! I don't feel these things separately! Separate orgasm from pleasure and see how that works out for you!

When trans people talk about our experiences with gender identity because someone wants some sort of description, when a cis person who has never had to examine what gender identity feels like, there's not going to be much of a way to describe it where someone completely understands unless if they've experienced it before. We as trans people can go "oh yeah that sounds accurate to my experience" or go "oh no, not me, for me it's a little more like ____" but there's not much of a way to objectively describe it.

What is a woman, anyone who claims that they're a woman, is as circular as a definition as:

Sexual attraction: attraction that makes people desire sexual contact or shows sexual interest in another person(s). Romantic attraction: attraction that makes people desire romantic contact or interaction with another person or persons.

So neuroscience is used to try and find Where the Gender is Stored but the brain is such a complex organ that the shape of your brain can be used to identify you like a fingerprint. Oxytocin is what we have for attraction but which one? Does it matter? There are studies that show that the brains of trans people are different in some way but I kind of stopped caring about them years ago because I don't care! I don't care!

I'm trans, we keep trying to explain what gender identity is, why we transition, but there's always some issue on it being too vague or reinforcing stereotypes (men having flat chests with binding even though not all men do for instance).

So when you get a way to describe all of what you feel objectively that everyone can relate to you can get back to me and I'll fucking applaud you.

#long post #I needed to write this shower thought out #for once I did and didn't leave it stuck in my head to die #notaterftip #not sarcasm

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narratingvoice · 1 year

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I had to say goodbye to my cat of almost 18 years this weekend. Do you have any advice for how to best remember one of your best and oldest friends by?

[[disclaimer: this ask was sent by a very close friend and we discussed it first. Please do not send me really heavy asks if I don't know you.]]

Oh dear, what an awful thing to hear. My heart goes out to you, and I hope you're managing to function. As I understand it, 18 is on the upper end of a cat's lifespan, so the two of you must have had a wealth of adventures and precious times together. Some people seem to think it's not important to take time to grieve after losing a pet, and that you should get back to the normalcy of life. That strikes me as an unnecessarily cruel attitude. Pets are beloved friends, and I know I'd be devastated to lose anyone that I had been friends with for that long.

If you want to remember good times, my highest recommendation is to build your own memory zone. Now I'm a programmer so I naturally built one in my game, but yours can be made out of any material you want. It could be a scrapbook where you collect pictures of your cat and write down how you felt about her. Surely you must have taken a lot of pictures; this is the internet age, and everyone on the internet loves showing off their cats. Ooh, yes, you could even make a little memorial web page, using a free service like Neocities or Carrd. They say anything you post on the internet lasts forever, so why not make sure that the image of your friend endures the test of time? You could share the link with everyone if you want to make the world see what a beautiful kitty she was, or you can keep it private if you prefer.

Are you an artistic type? You could commemorate your cat's image in a painting or a sculpture or an epic poem. Or commission artists to do these things if you have the budget. Something deserving of how much she meant to you. People have been remembering their loved ones through art ever since humans first evolved. It's one of the things your species does best. It doesn't matter what the form of the art is so much as what it represents: an outpouring of love.

The thing about losing someone is that it rips a big nasty, ragged hole in your life where they used to be. You used to turn to her for comfort, but now you need comfort because of her and she can't give it to you. You still love her exactly as much as you did a few days ago, because love can't just be turned off like that, but now your love has no object receiving it. It feels empty, like broadcasting a radio signal when there's no one tuned to your station. And the thing about losing pets specifically is that you knew this day would come, ever since you decided to attach your heart to something with a shorter lifespan than you. But you did it anyway because it was worth it, because you wanted to have a loyal companion to take care of and protect, because love is more powerful than death.

This is the core of what I'm trying to get at: you have all this love inside you and it yearns to go somewhere, to be seen and recognized. You must find a vessel to pour it into and erect a shrine to your adoration. Then you can come back and relive your wonderful memories any time you feel like you need to. You can let yourself feel without self-judgement or self-doubt. And you should also take your love with you into the rest of the world. Use it to do things with passion, make things that are beautiful and true, and be the kind and caring person you are. I'm rooting for you, kid.

#tsp #the stanley parable #ask blog #reply #death #animal death

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giomagnetism · 1 year

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180 splat questions for spencer: [tier 0] 12; [tier 2] 10, 27; [tier 4] 3, 30; [tier 5] 5, 20

180 Splatoon OC Questions

12. Favorite type of music?

I think the best answer I can give to this one's "evocative". She doesn't really care about the quality or the genre—though of course she likes high-intensity driving stuff in line with what she makes—and her choice is about as performative as it isn't. Yeah, she unironically likes Taylor Swift. That's because Taylor Swift and especially her early music epitomizes a certain type of femininity and relationship with it, someone with a particular type of girlhood, that hits her where it hurts. Same reason why there's a lot of Avril Lavigne and the like in her library. They might not be "good", but they give her access to a yearning she doesn't usually allow herself, which is what she wants out of music in the first place. Sometimes it's good to scream her lungs out in anger, sometimes it's better to strum along to a life she didn't get to live without a caveat.

She pingpongs around eras as well; while you wouldn't catch her listening to anything but tiktok musicians and girl power anthem bullshit in public, she has a respectable familiarity with 60s/70s/80s music that she draws on for her own compositions. Some of her family got her listening and she figured out she liked the type of musical ideas on display.

10. How often are they in swim form? How does it feel to them?

Spencer's one of those weirdos who would rather be in basal form if she can help it. Who wouldn't want to just fold over and lay on the ground after a bad shift. When she's such an active runner and using it often as she does it's just easier, both to hold together and drop the act of being "put-together" while she's in it. Which is to say it's a comfort to her personally, and she's in it almost about as often as she isn't—given she isn't nursing a wound or anything, ahem, sometimes she'll just lounge around in basal form when she isn't doing anything otherwise.

27. Any body modifications they have or want to get? What’s the story behind them?

Wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy—most of them are hard to find for a reason! Right now Spencer has septum and eyebrow piercings, and by the time she's thirty, a tongue piercing and four tattoos. I'm sure she'll acquire a lip piercing and more ink at some point past that tbh. Not all of them have remarkable stories behind them (yet, at least) because she kind of just went "I can do whatever the fuck I want, now" and then did whatever the fuck she wanted. One of her tattoos was acquired to match with Bernadine and Dacey, a music note behind her left ear; she has another miniature one, a simplified crow, on her right ankle. Later she gets a tramp stamp another at the base of her spine and then a decorative Salmonid glyph-inspired pair of fish on top of her ribs. (For lack of a better anatomical term?)

3. Any scars? How did they get them?

Plenty—at least temporarily. She collects ink-stains and bite marks like she's magnetized to attract them, but the nature of Inkling regeneration is, they tend to fade. I'm sure she has some nicks and more permanent bites but I just haven't bothered to draw them.

And then of course there's the one that circumnavigates her right thigh because it turns out maws bite, actually. But the specifics of how she got that you'll have to wait around and find out!

30. Who do they text or call most often?

Question that's stupidly funny for secret reasons, godbless. It's definitely one of the band members (although I wouldn't be surprised if Grizzco. had some form of texting service to update runners on announcements, emergency notices, that sort of thing? or if it'd have a Splatnet-type widget that updated automatically... whichever way, she opts into those) but... you know, they and her parents are literally the only people who even have her contact info. I'd wager Bernadine but Spencer's just as often in her physical company, so it very well might be Steve, who is the band's main organizer and coordinator and Spencer's go-to person to ask for favors in the unlikely event she doesn't just do it herself.

Yeah, sure, eventually it's Shiloh, but why bother with giving someone your number when fate just glues you together? It's not like either of them are just gonna up and vanish!

5. Anything from their childhood that they still have?

That's. hmm. I don't think she had a lot of things in her childhood to begin with, not that didn't belong to another person or place and she had little more than liberty to borrow. The room in her parents' house which technically belongs to her has plenty of memorabilia they bought for her as a child that has sat collecting dust for a very long time. I'm sure there's a few things she brought with her when she moved out—the start of her collections, stuff she never put up on walls—but most of them were likely more recent acquisitions. Plane tickets, maybe, or knickknacks from some of the towns she lived in, markers of how many times she's walked through a place she couldn't linger. (If you're asking this because you remember something I don't and I do have an answer for this... my bad!)

20. What’s their favorite place they’ve been to? What makes it special?

If asked this to her face, she'd tell you she had no attachment or affection for anywhere she'd stayed, and she'd mean it. Spencer does not cultivate ties. Not to persons, not to places; she tells herself she wants for nothing and does not think about things long enough to do so. But she does, of course; things leave her mark on them whether or not she's cognizant of it. Her hometown and the radius in which her family spread out around it means a lot to her, more than she realizes (nevermind is able to admit) for quite a long time—she's bitter about her childhood, but it wasn't actually miserable, and given the chance to revisit it (with the benefit of hindsight, a little loosening up, and a life she now likes living)... she comes to terms with that.

Basically, it snows up there, and she really does yearn to stuff snow down someone's shirt again.

The answer does change again, though, after she spends awhile traveling—there's a lot of really pretty and interesting and memorable places out there, after all, and she'd never balk at the chance to go visit them again. Though in either case, she has to admit: it isn't so much the physical spot which makes it "special" as it is having someone with her she doesn't mind sticking around.

#inbox #shadowsplice #oc posting #oc spencer

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nifftyandlcvely · 3 months

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This sucks... On a scale of ❛ sucks to really sucks ❜ , this REALLY sucks. For the first time in years, he's not spending his Heat isolated in his palace. Where the only audience to his torment are the mountains of rubber ducks, Lucifer able to complain and commit as much destruction as he desires ( which is fantastic for getting out ones pent-up frustrations ) until the storm passes. But now that he's taken residence in the hotel, he can't exactly rush off to the palace and stay there while this all blows over... Not without having to answer questions he is NOT prepared to lie about.

Practically surrounded by a cloud of repressed NEED, he rubs his arms as if staving off a chill despite his body's relentless burning. Like heavenly-fire licking at his skin and destroying him from the inside-out, he frantically looks around as he hurries toward his room. Planning on hiding away until his mind is in less of a sudden haze... when he feels a light tapping against it. A familiar, oddly-comforting sensation that he instinctively allows in before he can stop himself.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—

Before he can fix his mistake, he feels Naven's presence within his thoughts. The other man no doubt blasted by a tidal-wave of instinctive yearning. A primitive plea for help, for pleasure so long denied even by his own hand. As if a form of self-punishment, the King Of Hell refusing himself relief for far too long. It's pathetic, and pitiful, and pulling at Naven's mind with a shameless urgency ( and specific want for the one who has Claimed Him ) even as Lucifer rushes to his room and slams the door shut. Pushing the other out of his headspace far too late— his state of being PAINFULLY known —he picks up a pillow from the mountain of them on his bed and screams into it.

... Fuck. - (( *shoves an embarrassed Omega lad @ your boi dfjngdfjkgdf* ))

@burning-fcols

Even if Naven hadn't been able to smell Lucifer from quite a ways away, he could still tell that something was terribly wrong with the King of Hell just by his body language and facial expression. How he seemed to be trying to avoid being seen during Naven's class. As soon as class had ended, he had excused himself to "go rest in one of the vacant rooms". Once alone and on his way up, he reached out for permission to enter Lucifer's mind only to almost immediately be knocked off his feet by the wave of heat and yearning before being shut out once again.

It seemed like the King of Hell was trying to hide his heat. Well, that just won't do at all.

Having to steady himself on weak legs, Naven could hear Lucifer slamming the door to his room a few floor above in his desperation to lock himself away. Once he was able to stand again, he rushed as quickly as possible to his sweet apple treat, following the scent of crisp apples. He reached under his shoulder cape and his shirt to rip off his scent blocker as he neared where the intoxicating scent was coming from. While Lucifer's scent was a crisp sweet apple, like a candied apple, Naven's own scent was more earthy, as if the fruit had been blended with a mix of fragrant tea leaves, a comforting alpha scent that offered warmth and care. Knocking lightly on the door, he released more pheromones as he said, "Lucifer, dear, may I come in? I know you're in there, and I know you're suffering. I want to help."

There. A hand reaching out and all he could do was wait to see if it would be accepted.

#burning-fcols #Some Of Us Can Be A Bit Nasty | Naven

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patah · 1 year

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“A tad more enjoyable,”

Narrowing down my diverse array of interests to a select few is no easy task, but let me begin by highlighting my enthusiasm for horror, crime cases, and gore. Admittedly, it may seem peculiar, but I am repelled by falsehoods and take comfort in immersing myself in horror and gore. I embrace the genre in all its forms. Additionally, I derive immense pleasure from exploring fascinating and complex conspiratorial criminal cases, particularly those that have yet to be resolved. However, I am also captivated by cases that have been solved. I yearn to find like-minded individuals who share my passion.

As far as music goes, I appreciate all genres without partiality towards any particular artist. Nevertheless, Surf Mesa, Forrest Nolan, MCR, Ariana Grande, Conan Gray, LANY, BETWEEN FRIENDS, and Carpenters occupy a special place in my heart. I have also delved into Jpop and KPop, and while I have no specific preference, I do admire and support many groups. I hold Jinsoul and Kim Lip in high esteem, along with my admiration for Park Sunghoon. Juyeon and Chanhee hold a special place in my heart for inspiring me in various ways.

During my leisure time, I prefer to unwind by watching documentaries, though I also enjoy indulging in movies and series. Most recently, I watched Ghost Writer, which earned a solid 9/10 rating from me. Its balance of drama and humour is impeccable. Writing and reading are also dear to me. Currently, Gadis Kretek is at the top of my reading list and is highly recommended. Have any of you read it? And, oh, I write candidly from my heart, and the aforementioned interests of mine occupy a special place in my life.

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cookingupcommunity · 2 years

Text

Time for tea...

Our opening theme for the "Cooking Up Feminism" program was "Hot Beverage." While we could have picked a more specific theme, like "tea" or "coffee" it was important to be inclusive by keeping the topic broad, so that everyone would have a chance to bring their desired and preferred hot beverage. It just so happens, that all of the "Cooking Up Feminism" participants chose to make, and discuss, some form of tea with medicinal properties.

Four Friends by Zeni Shariff

Zeni chose to bring an herbal, medicinal remedy from her childhood spent in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. The carefully brewed, immunity boosting concoction is known as "Tangawizi" when it is made without milk. However, when milk is added, it is called Chai. Zeni reminisces over how her mother ensured that "Tangawizi" was prepared for the children, on a daily basis, so as to keep seasonal colds and the flu at bay. After all, regular visits to the doctor were neither accessible, nor affordable. When milk was used, it was the condensed variety, because "milk was a cherished commodity, so we would often use condensed milk, because it keeps for a longer time when one does not have a fridge due to frequent power failures."

Zeni now lives in Canada, and often brews this tea from her childhood, for comfort and warmth while navigating seasonal changes.

"On a cool, rainy, autumn day when I struggle with human traffic on the subway, I sip on this tea and it feels like I’m being hugged. I feel like the tea is giving me warmth, from head to toe, especially this tea, so lovingly made by myself for myself. When I make this tea, I am transported to a place that my heart longs for, yearning for coziness, and a gentle breeze coming from the Indian Ocean. Each sip takes my troubles away." ~ Zeni

Tea Party by Lady Pearline Morris

Lady Pearline Morris, or Lady P as we now lovingly know her in our workshop sessions, hosted us for a delightful virtual tea at her kitchen table. We discovered, that in Jamaica, where Lady P is from, hot beverages of all kinds are usually called "tea." So, coffee will be called "coffee tea" and even some savoury seafood soups will be called "fish tea." Lady P decorated the table with a variety of hot beverages, such as, Hot Chocolate, Apple Cider Garlic tea and Cerasee tea. As seen in the video, Lady P shows us bitter, unsweetened pieces of chocolate found in Jamaican stores, that are gradually melted into the cup using boiling water or milk, sweetened at the very end. To think, that the trend of melting "hot chocolate bombs" in cups across cafes in western countries may have originated in Jamaica. We also learnt about the very unique Cerasee tea, which is brewed using the stems and leaves of the bitter melon plant. Much like the "Tangawizi" brew shared with Zeni from Tanzania, the Cerasee tea is also given medicinal importance in Jamaica and is often consumed for healing and immunity boosting benefits.

Turmeric Chai by Madhu Kumar

"Cooking Up Feminism" participant, Madhu brought us a wonderful, yellow-golden, Turmeric Chai that has been consumed in the Indian subcontinent for centuries. In fact, growing up in Pakistan, my own mother used to feed us "Haldi ka Doodh" (as Turmeric Chai is known in Hindi and Urdu) immediately after having a fall or encountering an injury. The reason for this was, as Madhu also confirmed with us, that turmeric is considered to have anti-inflammatory benefits and can be very helpful in the body's healing process from injury, bruising and pain.

Self-Portrait, Turmeric Chai by Madhu Kumar

We were not surprised to see painting materials make their way into Madhu's photographs. After all, Madhu is a painter and says "I wanted to create a sort of self-portrait of myself, who I am and what I do." Despite the stillness in this photograph, it truly speaks a thousand words.

Kahwa by Lubna Majeed

Lubna, a teacher from Pakistan shared yet another herbal remedy with us, that is frequently brewed and prescribed during flu season, and in the cold, winter months. A powerful immunity booster and decongestant, this "Kahwa" is made using a variety of herbs, spices and water and can be taken sweet or unsweetened. Though Kahwa (also transliterated as qehwa, kehwa or kahwah) is a "traditional preparation of tea widely consumed in India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, some regions of Central Asia" (Wikipedia) in Pakistan, any black or green tea, or water-based hot beverage is known as "Kahwa." When milk is added, the "Kahwa" would then be called "Chai." Lubna remembers learning how to make "Kahwa" from her elders, who inherited this generational and medicinal brewing tradition from their elders. Without intergenerational continuum, usually recorded and passed down by women elders of the family, many of these traditions and recipes would be lost to the world.

All of the recipes and stories we share in "Cooking Up Feminism" will be published in a unique cookbook by Scarborough Arts, available to the public in 2023, so stay tuned. Bookmark our blog and follow along. Thank you for your support.

~Mariam Magsi (Workshop Facilitator, Scarborough Arts)

#tea #chai #cooking up feminism #hot beverage #memory #nostalgia #intergenerational knowledge #scarborough arts #food #culture #migration #elders #story telling #mariammagsi #healthy arts for seniors #workshops #scarborough #canada

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nuestraluzdelaluna · 3 years

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I am so HAPPY that you are writing for Måneskin xx I would love a nsfw alphabet for Damiano😁

Damiano David NSFW Alphabet:

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He always makes sure to make the both of feel the most comfortable possible. Making sure your body is clean, kissing any bruises that might have formed and pulling his shirt over your body. After that he will lay down and cuddle you close, talking about some things the both of you won’t even remember the next morning before falling asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Damiano likes his hair, likes to style it different ways and enjoys nothing more than the feeling of your fingers combing through it or tugging on it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes to cum on your body, pulling out last minute and painting your skin with his cum. Loving to see you play with it afterwards, dragging a finger through it only to taste him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Pegging. Whenever he’s bratty it just means he misses the feeling of being full. He misses the feeling of you hands all over your body as you fuck him into oblivion.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He mostly knows what he’s doing. There are a lot of things the two of you experience with and then you both don’t really know what you are doing, but you will still make it work.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Depends on his mood that day.

If he’s feeling more subby he will want to let you ride him and take complete control over his pleasure.

If he’s more in a dom mood he will bend you over any surface of the house and make sure you’re trapped by his body.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is definitely goofy leading up to it, making sure to make you feel comfortable and besides that he knows exactly how sexy a smile can be. However during the moment he gets into a headspace that just simply doesn’t allow goofiness.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

While he makes sure to not let the hair get ‘too’ long and trim every now and then, it’s not his main priority to shave every shower he takes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It depends, more than often he loves degrading you and fucking you roughly. But on other days he will just want to hold you in his arms, make love to you and tell you how much he adores you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Damiano doesn’t jerk off a lot just because there’s not really a need to. Whenever he is horny, which is quite often, he will just turn to you and get his satisfaction.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Nipple play - he loves how you reacted to having his fingers play with your nipples. However it’s not only limited to you, he does not have a heart tattooed around his nipple for nothing. Run your tongue around his nipples and play with his piercing a little and he might just cum undone.

Dom/sub dynamics - that man is the definition of a switch and he loves nothing more than going from being completely in control to begging for your touch.

Sir/master - if he’s in a dom mood you don’t want to call him anything other than sir or master or you will regret it the whole night.

Degradation - something where his switch side comes out again, damiano love to call you his whore but only to have you call him a slut afterwards.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In private rooms and only in private rooms. However if it’s private he doesn’t care about the concrete location at all, wether he fucks you into the mattress or the two of you give the kitchen table a new purpose.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Pulling on his hair

Pulling in his collars/ necklaces

Putting necklaces around his neck and feeling your hands grace over his skin

Playing with his rings

Anything you do with his fingers in general

Kissing his chest

Wearing his clothes

Touching his skin so slightly he barely feels it

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything in public is a no for him, your body is for you and him to enjoy only and no one, that the two of haven’t specifically chosen should be allowed to see what’s going on between the two of you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man will spend hours between your thighs just completely taking everything you have to offer. His tongue swirling around your clit as he uses his fingers to massage your g spot. However before a concert there’s nothing he enjoys more than to fuck your mouth and get all his adrenaline out, loving to see how your mascara tainted tears paint your cheeks black or how spit dribbles down your chin.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It’s almost only rough and fast, however damiano is still able to put so much passion and love into it. Making you feel loved as he fucks you into the mattress and calls you a whore.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t like quickies, he needs to take his time with you. He needs to explore your body like it’s the first time over and over again besides that he needs time for all his teasing.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Damiano will experiment with everything and every day. Everything you come up with he will try and vice versa, however he doesn’t really take that much risks. He is very private about his relationships and will not want to risk that anybody sees what’s only meant for the two of you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He lasts multiple rounds and with his sex drive he needs to, however the rounds aren’t the longest. But he makes up for it with the, what feels like, hours of teasing me

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He definitely does not shy away from toys at all. Whether that be a vibrator that you use on yourself as you send him teasing videos when he is away or a dildo that you will use to peg him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

BIGGEST tease out there. Damiano will spend hours between your thighs kissing and nibbling on your skin, sucking on your clit, teasing your slit with his fingertips and just when you’re about to cum he will get up and light himself a cigarette. However he likes to be teased as well and even if he acts like he doesn’t he loves to draw his own orgasms out as much as possible.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s loud, with him there is never a quiet second in the bedroom. Whether it’s dirty talk, which he’s a big fan of, or moaning. He’ll groan in your ear showing you how good you feel around him, or just full on let out high pitched moans as he’s cumming.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The hardest he has ever cum, was with your mouth wrapped around his dick as you took him to the back of your throat and your fingers in his ass. Massaging his prostate and deepthroating him at the same time has made cum in record speed.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is pretty much average (i’m talking italian average, google it ;) ). You definitely need to take some time to adjust to him every time over and over again.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive his really high, like i’m talking morning sex, staying in bed, going multiple rounds and doing the same again only hours later.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He will fall asleep rather quickly. However not before making sure to either pull you into his arms or lay his head on your chest and enjoy the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair.

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urlkssknt · 3 years

Text

nanami kento x fem!reader (2.9k)

nsfw!! mdi!!

warnings; unprotected sex, it’s just very soft and vanilla

a/n; this is a scene from a series i might write, i’m not sure if i want to commit to it, please let me know your thoughts, feedback is much appreciated!

The marriage announcement caught you off guard, it felt like someone had thrown you into the deep end of a pool and you didn't know how to swim, drowning slowly in the snarky whispers from the attendants of the party that reached your ear - wasn't he married to Y/n? Poor girl, I wouldn't be able to show my face if I was her. Many eyes around the room turned towards you in anticipation, waiting for some display of anger or a rage-induced outburst. Much to their disappointment, you stood your ground. You wouldn’t let the perfectly crafted mask fall from your face, especially not now, you couldn’t let the woman, who held a leash over your ex, know she caused an effect on you.

From a distance over, Satoru watched you closely through the peripheral of his sharp vision, you leaned further into the dark long haired man standing beside you to whisper something into his ear. Suguru handed you a small rectangular box discreetly. He was equally as shocked as you. Satoru expected Toji to pull a stunt like this, maybe another pregnancy announcement or a business merger. He never expected it to be announced publicly, in a Gojou family setting. Whilst claps of congratulations sounded around the hall, Gojou's cold gaze threw daggers towards your ex-husband, standing beside your parents with a hand on the waist of his fiancée. The sight of gleaming smiles across your parent’s faces made Satoru feel sick to his stomach. The white haired man also took a mental note of the people who seemed genuinely happy for the wretched couple. Those people didn't realise that they had gotten onto Gojou Satoru's bad side and ruined any promising positive relationship with the businessman.

There was a chill in the evening air as you stood on the balcony, you were grateful no one else was outside to witness the devastation on your face, only the night sky being witness to the single teardrop that fell along the expanse of your cheek. The cold air nipped at the bare skin of your arms and neck, raising the fine hairs which run all along your skin. As a thought of regret for not bringing a jacket along with you popped into your mind, you opened the cigarette packet that Suguru handed to you, bringing one up to your lips to rest as you fish for a lighter in your purse, praying that you had one despite having quit the disgusting habit years ago.

The temperature of the chilling air around you rises as a warming presence pressed against your back, you only relax when the familiar scent of rich cologne mixed with cinnamon infiltrates your senses, allowing yourself to melt into the heated hands that run along your naked arms.

"Do you even have a lighter?" Kento questions as you continue to search through your bag, which was so small, the blond was sceptical about it being big enough to fit any necessities.

Peering up through your lashes, your azure eyes narrowed at him as your lips formed into a deep scowl. Kento was right, you didn’t have a lighter, specifically for scenarios like this, where your fingers are itching to grab at the first intoxicant to cloud your mind. Smoking would help calm the stress that scratches the walls of your brain as the tobacco fills your bloodstream.

“Suguru probably has one-“ you mutter under your breath, speaking with the white stick sitting comfortably between your lips before a hand quickly reaches for it and throws the small object off the balcony, out of sight and out of reach. “What the hell-“ there was little time to process the sudden action as your words are cut short with kento’s palms encasing your face to tilt your head slightly and allow him to lower his lips onto yours in a short kiss. The anger that rushed through your veins quickly dissolved, leaving as fast as it was produced.

A small smile creeped along your lips, “maybe I should take up smoking again.”

Kento couldn’t help the chuckle that let up his throat, his eyes crinkling in the same way that the twin’s did. His hands dropped from your face to hold your hips over the silk material, pulling you closer towards him, your breasts pressing against his chest.

“Let's get out of here.”

Earlier, before he followed your footsteps to check on you, Kento felt a strong grip latch on his arm to prevent him from moving further. The culprit was your brother. Satoru held an intimidating aura, his sapphire eyes bearing a look cold enough to pierce skin. The older man whispered short words to Nanami, advising him to take you away from the party, in order to protect you.

As Kento was texting the babysitter he had hired for the night, making sure his kids were safely sleeping in their beds, you were checking in with the two Zen’in girls that were looking after Megumi for the night. Maki and Mai loved spending time with you, when you announced the divorce with their cousin, they were undeniably upset, not because Toji’s heart was broken but it meant they wouldn’t be able to see you as often.

It wasn't as difficult as you thought it might be to locate the hotel room. Thankfully, both of you were in a conscious state of mind, avoiding the sparkling alcoholic beverages being served in crystal flutes. The hand on the curve of your waist held you close to Kento’s embrace. Just from a short glance, any onlooker would be able to know you were his, there was a loving atmosphere surrounding you two which was hard to miss, from the pearly smile painting your glossy lips to the radiant sparkling of gold among the hues of brown. The booked room was found quickly. Anticipation began to bubble in your stomach, you felt excited to spend the night with such a handsome man, again.

All of your hair was pushed to one side on your shoulder, exposing the tender flesh of your neck. A beautiful and plain canvas just waiting to be painted with deep and dark shades of pinks and purples. The plain sight caused a stir in Kento’s mind, he desired to mark you, in a way he knew no one ever would. Acting on impulse, the father of two kissed a spot where your neck met your shoulder so lightly it felt like petals brushing against your skin. A smirk found its home along Kento’s lips when you craned your head to the side, offering more of yourself to him. The innocent kisses progressed into deep bites, a sudden sharp nip against your pulse point causing a gasp to slip into the air. You couldn’t care less if a horrible bruise formed from Kento's lustful ministrations, his scent clouded your mind like a drug, your thoughts swirling into nothing. Your attention was fixated on the hands wandering from their place on your hips to groping your breasts through the silken material of your dress, sending arsoul to pool in your panties.

A deep timbre tone filled your ears, you turned to face the man speaking. “Would you like to know my new favourite colour?” Kento doesn’t wait for your answer, his hands squeeze at your chest again with more pressure, sadly eliciting another gasp from your lips. The corners of Kento's lips turn downwards ever so slightly, he had hoped that his ears would have been graced with a moan. “Sage green.”

The blond guides you to the queen-sized bed, lined with the finest material he had ever seen, Kento didn’t expect anything less from your brother, who handed him the key card. The hotel room was grand, almost as big as his own apartment, which was quite large.

Kento sits himself against the headboard with his suit jacket and tie discarded somewhere on the floor, falling victim to your travelling hands, eager to undress him. The clothing was no longer his concern as you situated yourself in his lap, thick thighs straddling his waist the best you could in the confinement of your dress. “Tonight,” Kento's eyes move from the swells of your breasts, your cleavage in his direct eye line, to meet your gleaming eyes. He was surprised to find his own reflection in them. “I'm yours.” The words felt heavy on his tongue and heart, it felt like he was confessing to you again, proving to himself that it was you that his heart yearns for.

Slowly, you clamber off of the blond man’s lap without voicing your intentions, not missing how his hands reach out to hold onto you for a moment longer, you giggle lightly at the display of clinginess, never expecting such a stoic man to behave like that. It was refreshing. It reassured the persistent whispers in the back of your mind that Kento wanted you like you wanted him. as you stood at the foot of the bed, you kicked off your nude heels, dropping your height by a few inches. A laugh fell upon your ears, Kento was amused, his smile hidden from your eyes behind his palm. However, the light atmosphere shifted when the sound of a zipper filled the room. Swiftly, the dress dropped to the floor from the pull of gravity, leaving you exposed except for the black lace thong, which barely hid anything from his eyes. Kento wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

Finally, it was your turn to smirk when your sharp eyes caught the growing tent of Kento's trousers.

Slowly, you crawled along the bedsheets at an agonising pace, it felt like hours before you finally reached your destination. Within an instant, you felt two large palms squeeze at the pudgy skin of your hips. You couldn’t help but press your hands against Kento's chest, fingers running aimlessly as you met his lips, kissing him with such desire, as if you had planned to devour him.

“Do you know what good boys get, Mister Nanami?” you say in a sultry tone, the touches of the small pads of your fingertips tracing unrecognisable shapes along his chest becoming distractive.

The words registered into the blond’s mind, you had previously asked the same question to the three toddlers, in hopes of containing their erratic behaviour in the kitchen. This should have been degrading, yet, despite using the childish question, a rational voice in Kento’s mind screamed at him to just give in for once.

“Rewards,” it was the same answer Sukuna gave you, it was the correct answer. However, Kento's voice only managed to speak just above a breath, finding himself unable to trust his own voice.

“Well done daddy,” you praised him with a sweet kiss, a shiver running up his neck, before making an effort to unbutton the shirt, “treat me nicely and I’ll reward you.”

All the remaining pieces of clothing were thrown off hurriedly, desperate to feel the pure heat of Kento's unbelievably hot body. It stunned you how he was constantly warm, maybe you could make him your personal heater.

Kento couldn’t help but groan loudly as your hips grinded against his dick, coating him with your wetness, he felt himself throbbing against your folds, ever so desperate to fill you to the brim. As if reading his mind, the teasing touches paused as you lined your entrance up with his cock, only after giving the hard member a few pumps with your hand. The broad shoulders of the businessman were used as an anchor, you cling onto him desperately as you sink onto his dick. In the span of a few hours, you had completely forgotten the thickness of kento’s sex, surprising yourself as you struggle to relax yourself to take him in. Wanton moans fell from both parties as you stayed still for a few seconds to get used to the burn from his fat cock stretching you. The hands on your waist squeeze tightly to help Kento ground himself from rutting up into you. Being enveloped with your warm cunt felt too good, especially when the gummy walls clamped around him, you were all he could think about.

Just from the position alone, the soft tissue of nerves which caused you to see stars were grazed upon, you couldn’t stop the moan escaping from your lips. “I could cum like this,” you relish in the feeling of the palms coaxing the movement of your hips and the mouth that latches onto your mound. A sharp nip against your peak leads to you arching into Kento's mouth, desperate for more of his touches. Despite spending the night before together, the pair of you couldn’t get enough of each other. Not when your tits would bounce as you raised your hips and begin a steady rhythm of grinding against Kento’s lap, each slam against his hips hitting a spot that causes your head to spin. The vision of you on top of him, riding his cock like your life depended on it, spurred the coil tightening in the pit of his stomach. The wetness that pooled between your thighs now began to drip down onto the pelvis of the man below you. A mixture of juices squelching and low moans sounded throughout the room. You had no time to feel embarrassed by the pornographic noises as you desperately chased your high.

“You’re making me feel so good angel,” a sense of pride blooms in Kento's chest as he feels you clenching around him from his praise. His hands stretched lower to graze his fingers over your ass, they latched onto you, his nails creating deep crevices in the area that would still be there in the morning.

You could no longer think straight, completely drunk off of Kento's cock, filling you up so well you wished he’d never leave. A numbness started to form in your thighs, creating a painful burn as you continued to move up and down, pushing through the pain and reaching for your high. From the hand gripping his hair and the way your walls were spasming, Kento knew you were so close to cumming, you just needed a little push. The brush of his thumb circling your clit leans you over the edge and causes your orgasm to hit you like a wave. Kento groaned loudly as you creamed his cock and gripped onto him like a vice. The man felt kind enough to let you catch your breath, he was still painfully hard and so close to his own high.

“As much as I’d like to be rewarded,” a cheeky smile spread through Kento’s lips, chocolate eyes sparkling at you with excitement. His playful and cheery expression leaves as quick as it comes, you almost whine in protest as he uses his strength to pull you off of his lap, and gently lays you down against the bed. The giddy look in Kento's eyes darkens to a lustful stare as your blown out eyes meet his. “Daddy wants to cum, so be a good girl and help daddy out.”

It hadn’t been longer than a few moments since your climax, you had barely calmed down. Without a second thought, Kento thrusts into your sopping entrance, your cum still coating his dick which makes it easier for him to slide back into your cavernous walls. A cry emmits from you due to the overstimulation. The feeling of being filled up again overtook the discomfort you experienced, it felt so good that you could cry from it, it was as if kento was made to fit inside your cunt so deliciously. The hands on your hips migrate to your thighs, pushing them up so that your knees are almost next to your head. Somehow, the angle of the position allows Kento to hit deeper into you.

“Fu- fuck,” your mind is lost for words as it completely blanks, no longer have the ability to form a coherent sentence.

A layer of sweat covers the blond’s body. The slapping sound returns as Kento's heavy balls hit against you with every rut. It was astonishing that the bed frame didn’t move with his frantic movements. Each thrust of his hips were more calculated than the next, earning a cry from you each time as his cockhead continuously came into contact with your g-spot. Kento knew he’d only be able to last through a few more thrusts. From the way your thighs quivered, your second orgasm was closer than he thought.

“Cum with me angel,” Kento's lips found yours in a haste of teeth clashing against each other, desperate to feel closer to you. As soon as the coaxing words fall on your ear, your walls clench around him as another climax ripples through you, this one hitting you much harder. The tension finally snapped, a growl ripped through his throat, no longer being able to hold back, as ropes of his cum shot inside your pussy, hips faltering slightly.

Your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion, trying your best to catch your breath and calm your erratic heart. Gentle hands help drop your legs so they could wrap around Kento’s waist instead of being folded in the air. Kento noticed the drowsy haze you were in. He took it upon himself to find a towel in the bathroom to clean up the mess between your thighs. Exerting his strength, the stoic man helps you to move into the sheets, the cold air no longer able to nip at your naked body.

“We need to buy plan b,” you shifted yourself close to Kento.

A kiss is pressed to the crown of your head. “We can worry about that in the morning.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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