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chrollohearttags · 7 months

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face to face • nanami kento

synopsis: a steamy rendezvous with your boss and lover becomes even more complicated when he decides to answer a phone call from the last person you wanted him to.

content + themes: infidelity/affairs, backshots, hair pulling, toxic relationship with reader + gojo, alcohol use, praise kink, slight foot play, squirting, pussy eating, pleasure dom nanaminnn (and he’s a lil toxic too), ofc reader calls him daddy

word count: 3.5K

📝: so this lil hc is gonna take on a mind of its own I see 🌚 LMAO y’all enjoy though. Like I’m really ready to make an entire story out of this. Tell me if y’all are team Gojo or team Nanami.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.

“I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t wait up for me..”

the text bubble going from lime green to bright blue in a matter of seconds as it was delivered..the contact on the other end more than likely wouldn’t even acknowledge it until hours later, you were certain of it. All but betting on the fact that it’d be left on read as well. A clear sign of how pretentious and petty they were..the culprit in question was none other than your boyfriend of three years, Satoru Gojo. A term you used rather sparingly nowadays; due in part to the fact that he hadn’t been much of one in the past year or so. To the majority of others around you, your union could be described as nothing more than mere goals. Your friends would constantly talk the two of you up and confess that they were jealous of the fact that you had bagged such a handsome, fine, sweetheart of a boyfriend. However, as the age old cliche stated..looks were rather deceiving and behind closed doors, your relationship was in utter turmoil. Arguments by day and steamy make up sex by night; doing very little to compensate for the pain he put you through. Hearing stories about how he was at the club with this girl or caught texting that one. Granted, you knew he was the quintessential playboy type when you first made his acquaintance and although he promised you were different, vowing to prove so if you gave him the chance..it was merely another one of his many lies. It didn’t take long before the chivalrous facade dropped and he revealed his true colors. There wasn’t much he had to offer nowadays and quite frankly, you were going through the motions; living as mere roommates if anything.

however, you had begun to find solace elsewhere. In the arms of another man, who just so happened to be much closer than anyone would ever expect! No more were the nights of crying yourself to sleep when you were cradled in the arms of none other than your boss and newfound lover:

“Kento…hi, baby…”

“(Y/N), my love. You look absolutely stunning. Please..come in.”

Nanami Kento, the newly appointed chairman and chief operating officer of SorceTech, the biomedical engineering conglomerate that you had been employed at for the better part of three years. A Fortune 500 company with an excellent reputation and it couldn’t have been in better hands in terms of leadership. Kento was a man of few words but one of integrity, promise and strong conviction. He had vowed to serve this company to the best of his ability and ensure that every employee was treated with dignity and respect under his authority. Not only that, he planned to implement all sorts of helpful changes and he stuck true to that. Regardless of the adversity, he stood on his words at all times. It was just a few of the redeemable qualities that drew you towards him. And once he appointed you as his faithful executive assistant, it was only a matter of time before that beautiful professional relationship blossomed into something more. The attraction was almost instantaneous..how could it not be when you were so perfect? Hence the reason he didn’t seem to care when you told him you had a boyfriend, especially one that hadn’t treated you with the utmost care and respect. His only response: “my apologies, I figured that you’d be seeking a husband by now. Three years with no proposal sounds like a mere waste of time to me.” It was that sentiment alone that solidified the fact that Kento..regardless of technicalities, was your true soulmate.

so whilst Satoru was out doing God knows what on this lovely Friday evening, here you were enjoying the company of the dashing blonde, who had so gently taken your hand as he ushered you over the threshold of his high rise condominium. Placing a soft peck atop the knuckles before pulling you into his barreled chest. Sporting an oceanic blue suede robe and matching slippers, Kento curled you in his grasp and initiated a brief makeout session, one that had your heart thumping through your flesh. It was the same sensation he invoked every time you two met like this. The sheer thrill of being in love with someone who reciprocated it but the possibility of being caught also lingered on your mind. He knew there was no time to squander, so without any more words being exchanged, he’d deepened those pecks..slowly and delicately gliding those spaghetti straps of your silk dress, peppering the skin with kisses on the way down. The scent of vanilla wafting through his nostrils as he inhaled your perfume. Soon, his lips would make home against the sensitive crook of your neck..where he had placed kisses several times. Slowly but surely, you two became one, right there in the comfort of his living room. It was something he’d never grow tired of, even if you were meeting under less than ideal circumstances. Naturally, he would’ve loved it if you were coming over as his woman and not one he had had to share. Especially when he knew the other man didn’t deserve you whatsoever. He was more than aware of Satoru’s reputation. Hell, he knew him long before you did so it baffled Kento when he popped up with someone like you on his arm. He knew it could only lead to disaster in the long run because he was a pretentious manwhore. Only considering himself in the grand scheme of things…

hence why any guilt absolved when he got you alone and licked every inch of your skin, undressing you along the way. He knew you wouldn’t or couldn’t leave him anytime soon nor would he ask such a thing. Old habits were hard to break and when you spent three long years living with and curating a life with someone, up and leaving wasn’t always a menial task. There were so many times you wanted to walk away, leave and just never look back. But he dragged you back in..even though the feelings were no longer there, you couldn’t part ways. So whilst you were in his arms, he’d make your nights much easier. Bringing you joy and true love when possible.

“I’ve missed you..” “You just saw me at work, Kento.” Giggling into his ear as his hands grabbed your breasts and made subtle squeezes. Even so, it had been a few hours too long since he’d felt you and that wouldn’t suffice. “And I thought about you all day long.” By this time, your bra had hit the floor and they were exposed to the crisp air radiating from the AC. That skin tight ensemble shuffled around your torso and your top half left completely nude. That’s when you’d feel his muscly arm hook around your waist and scoop you into his grasp, prompting you to place your arms on his neck so he could carry to the bedroom. The entire trek there was filled with sloppy, slow pecks..ones that continued as he laid you flat on the mattress, allowing your back to mesh with the cushy linen. Your limbs soon tangled into a heap of passion..touching, caressing and stroking one another’s flesh. Your fingertips lingering on the sides of his smoothly shaven, chiseled jawline whilst his own delicately toyed with your upper body. Running those digits along the curvature of your hips and waist, planting gentle kisses on the way down. But not before suckling on your nipples, just to watch your reaction.

“You always did like when I do that..”

“Yes, I love it..and I love you.”

taunting you with deviant glares and light chuckles as those lips trailed further south, eventually reaching your mound. Where he’d tear away those thin panty strings with his teeth and discard them..it was blatantly obvious that he wasn’t here to play around tonight. He wanted you, needed you even and desperately. It didn’t matter if you’d go back home to your sorry boyfriend afterwards or if you told him you loved him and didn’t mean it. Right now, his one true desire and wish was to please you.

“Yeah? Well I’m a man that believes in actions over words so I’ll be glad to prove just how much….I love you.”

and it was with that declaration, Kento dove head first between your slightly parted thighs. He’d pry them wide open on his way down, licking each one with a long, dredged glide until he reached that center. Which was already glistening with slick..just awaiting his touch. Whilst at work today, you couldn’t keep your mind off of him! His cologne, his attire..all of it was getting you hot and bothered. You wanted to snatch him up from his meeting and ride him to kingdom come, right there atop his desk. You even wore something extra revealing just to capture his attention and he’d certainly noticed because when you bent down to retrieve a pen, he’d run a hand up your leg and squeeze your asscheek lightly. It was the subtle flirtation throughout the day that made these steamy late night hookups all the more fun!

“Here, give me your hands, my love.” Giving you a tone of absolute reassurance that he’d take care of you. Clasping your fingers together as one, (y/n) kept those legs to either side and allowed him room to maneuver. Kento loved when you kept your heels on. It was something so sensual about the YSL heels and diamond anklet he gifted you, drudging across his back as he ate you out. He’d start with gentle kitten licks; getting his bearings before going full fledged. He’d part those fat little pussy lips his tongue, letting the tip graze your clit, which made you tremble. It didn’t take long before you’d hear the sound of slurping noises arise from his mouth. He’d snatch his left hand away for just a moment to pull them further apart and dive nose deep into that flesh. Before proceeding to let you clench it for comfort once more. He’d latch onto that swollen little bud and suck until that slick began to dribble down his chin. A sloppy, nasty mess of his saliva and your arousal mixing around in his mouth. He was absolutely enamored with pleasing you..it was his one and only priority, to ensure that you were satisfied. He’d stay down there, bobbing his head up and down until you began to convulse, attempting to push away but you’d only wind up grinding yourself against his face.

“Aaaah! Ken….I’m gonna come, baby..”

But to your dismay, he couldn’t allow that just yet. As much as he wanted to see you reach your ultimate bliss, he wasn’t coming up until he felt like it. Switching to a combination of fingers and lips, Kento would work your little cunt over until he felt that tight squeeze before tugging those digits out and placing them into your mouth. Hoping to pacify you for a moment. The quintessential give and take he was working towards drove you insane. “You taste so fucking good, my love. I can never get enough of you.” He’d resume his teasing, now with that thumb pad pressing to your clit and tracing tiny circles. He’d rotate it around until he felt you clamping down and that’s when he’d allow you to finally reach your peak.

“..come.”

the only word he’d utter before you wet him up with a stream of juices, that he’d happily drink. If that philandering asshole wasn’t man enough to appreciate you, he’d gladly take on the role! Still coming down from that climatic high, (y/n) trembled against the crisp white sheets, crying from the immense pleasure. He’d brush the side of your face whilst feeding you soft kisses to calm you down. Tasting yourself with slow pecks…moaning into your mouth. He was so infatuated with you, loving every moment that you got to spend together. In a quick, swift motion; his frame pressed gently against your own, Kento would lean up only by a hair’s breadth to ease inside of you, mumbling against your lips to stare into your eyes as he became one with you. “Look at me, baby. Look at me..”

Whispering softly with a sweet tone. He always made you feel so safe and secure when you made love. A lot more than what could be said for the man you laid next to every night. Kento eventually eased himself inside..tip and then carefully, inch by inch, you became one. Your back arching immediately.. “..oh God. Kent..take me, please.” Pleading with your arms and legs coiling his entire frame. Eventually, he’d feed you slow, deep strokes. Each one calculated and careful to ensure that you felt the pleasure you desperately deserved. After about five or so thrusts, he’d shift his head for your faces to meet. It was his favorite view in the entire world..staring at literal perfection whilst being inside what felt like heaven. “..you’re so warm..and tight, angel.” Admitting in a breathy huff, gritting his teeth and trying to maintain his composure. He couldn’t understand for the life of him why that fucking idiot would ever treat you less than that of a goddess, less known be unfaithful. Not when your pussy was this damn good..was he insane?! Regardless, Kento enjoyed his time wisely with you. “But you’ll let me stretch it out, won’t you? He pushed that idiot out of his mind and pressed his cock further between your spongy walls..even drumming up sloshing noises; your slick forming a thin membrane between his thighs. “Fuck…yes!—that dick feels so good.” Confessing in a soft whimper, crying from the intense pleasure. To which he’d quickly quell you..gliding a thumb underneath your eyes to wipe the tears away. Placing that thumb into your mouth shortly thereafter.. “..shh..it’s okay. Don’t cry. I know it’s a lot but you take me so well. You’re doing so good, baby. Just relax.” Praising you without so much as a second thought. It came naturally when you made him feel like a new man. Pressing a palm to your forehead, Kento glared into your eyes before shoving his tongue into your mouth for another kiss. Legs coiling his back as those hips rammed into your center. The collision of your flesh causes a recoil and clapping noises to fill the room. He could feel himself twitching and pulsating inside of that pussy..throbbing and waiting to burst..those feelings were like none other. And needless to say, your boss was loving every single, solitary second. Removing those shoes as he noticed the tension in your legs, Kento began to knead his fingers into your calves to ensure they didn’t cramp up from the constant motion. Your anklet dangling by his ear and his wristwatch refracting from the light whilst he rubbed on your feet.

“You’re so close..so am I, sweetheart. But I don’t want to come just yet. I still need to savor you a little while longer.”

blurting out the sentiment while gliding his lips over your ankle, toes and top of your foot. His tongue delicately glides over them, popping a couple into his mouth to suck on. If this man didn’t stop, you were going to be living in his fucking skin! But shortly after, you’d feel his already sluggish thrusts completely halt and that’s when he’d pull out. Prompting you to turn over and arch your back. That plump ass was no joke either but if he took one more glance at that gorgeous face, nothing would’ve stopped him from nutting all in that pussy. This way, he had a tad bit more control. Once you were on all fours, arms underneath your head, he’d tease that throbbing cock against your folds before gliding it back in. Causing you to grip the sheets on instinct. Your face remained buried in the pillowy mattress top when those thrusts resumed. It took only mere seconds to regather his bearings but once he had his pace back, he’d continue fucking you senseless..thrashing you around and watching that ass jiggle with each movement. “G-ahh! Fuck…your body is so beautiful. I can stare at it forever.” Doting on you with that dick nestled deep between your folds. Keeping his palm pressed to the small of your back and ever so gently, slipping his thumb in between our cheeks; eventually pressing into that other aching hole. “God and you’re such a mess..so fucking wet. I won’t be able to hold out much longer.” Layers of silky cream began to form all over that shaft. He couldn’t take much more but he’d persist a bit longer; playing the long game to ensure that you were more than satisfied. Clawing into the crisp linen, (y/n) rolled your hips and threw your ass back against him, meeting each of those strokes. “Oooh shit..you’re fucking me so good, daddy. Thank you so much.” Crying out through sucked teeth and trembling lips. Just then, his tempo faltered just a bit from hearing your words. Especially at being called such a name.

“Mmph..don’t tell me that, sweetheart. I might not ever let you leave.”

suddenly, you’d feel a light grasp on your throat and your head tug back before the warmth of his breath cast over your ear. “I mean, you’re mine after all…this pussy, this beautiful body..your heart. It all belongs to me. I don’t care about him..you’re mine. Daddy’s the only one you need.”

reaffirming both you and himself as he sped up momentarily, just enough to bring you right to the edge. It was almost as if his strokes were calculated. Intricately maneuvering inside of you to prod at your spot but not press too hard in hopes of inducing an orgasm. He could hear you whimpering and even asking him for permission to come. “Shh..not yet, not yet.” But he had to wait for the right moment to allow it. And it would seem that the ideal timing would arrive when you heard the faint buzzing of a phone..your eyes were squeezed shut and your face was once again planted in the mattress; completely unaware of what was about to transpire. Hearing a soft chuckle emit from Kento, you didn’t even have time to process what was going on when you felt a hand coiling your hair and pulling your head up.

“But I think now is as good of a time as any..” with you right on the brink of climatic collapse, he’d continue pounding at an almost drill-like speed, imploring you to let go any time you felt like it. To which you didn’t disappoint!..those sheets instantly flooded with your stream of juices. You’d find yourself quivering and convulsing uncontrollably after holding back for so long. “OH MY GOD!—FUCK!” Screaming out in pure bliss, even whimpering as if you had been completely broken. You couldn’t even contain yourself; it was so immensely powerful. But alas, that moment of ecstasy would soon be coupled by the satisfaction of revenge when you’d hear the faint crackling of a secondary voice, yelling and cursing..one that was rather familiar, with a mortified face to match! Having just come to the realization of what your lover was up to, you’d peer down underneath you and see your phone illuminated and in the midst of a phone call. You’d reach for it and attempt to answer but to no avail…it was too late to cover up your tracks. “Satoru! What is it?—“ However, that wasn’t all…you could see a small box in the corner with a photo of your own reflection..but on the main screen?

“Where the fuck are you, (y/n)?! What are you doing?!”

was your very irate and unhappy ‘boyfriend’ Satoru, who had just possibly witnessed something no man would ever want to: his lady getting off at another man’s hands. More so specifically, one he knew personally. But there was no love lost or friendship between the two of them, considering the pain that he had caused you beforehand. So it came as no surprise that Kento was going to take much pride in answering his questions. Cupping you by your throat once more, he’d twist your head around to plant a kiss atop your temple.

“For God sakes, Satoru. Stop yelling. She’s exactly where she should be..with me, where she belongs.”

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.

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courtforshort15 · 2 years

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All I Feel is You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem Reader

Word Count: 10,700

Summary: The story of how Matt Murdock falls in love with you, as told through the five senses

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of sex and oral sex

Written for this post by @dorothleah

Seriously guys, this was supposed to be short🤣🤣

Masterlist

1. Touch

The fabrics you tend to wear are warm and inviting and almost begging to be touched. Every single thread is soft and calming, more so than what Matt is accustomed to finding on friends and the general public, and it's become a much welcomed change. He's noticed that you very rarely wear cotton, instead sticking to silk and satin and cashmere, and though you’ve only been at the firm a scant few weeks, he is addicted and can’t help but want to run his fingers up and down the fabric, dying to know how it would feel underneath his fingertips.

He’s felt silk and satin and cashmere before, often preferring those materials on his own skin, but he’s never felt them on you, and it somehow still changes the way he gravitates towards them. The thought is arousing and enticing in a way he would have never thought possible.

The fabric slides over your skin as you move, and Matt finds the sound almost distracting, wishing it was his fingers that were sliding over you instead. When you wear dresses, the material sways around your legs as you walk by him, and it takes everything in Matt to not pull you close and slide your dress up, just so that he can test if the clothing you wear is as soft as the inside of your thighs.

His fingers twitch at his sides whenever you move past him, ruthlessly pushing all indecent thoughts away and out of his head. He knows that if he were ever to touch you like the way he's hungered for weeks, he'd never be able to stop.

Matt very nearly loses all semblance of control the first time you grab his hand and place it around the crook of your elbow, silk blouse pressed between his flesh and yours.

Typically Foggy is the one to lead him, perhaps even Karen, because leading a visually impaired individual is a skill, and it requires a certain level of finesse and anticipation of the other’s needs. You’ve been hesitant, he’s aware, to guide him, though not because you don’t want to help him; it’s because you’re afraid you’ll mess up, you admit, and he outwardly laughs in your face.

You flush, smacking his chest, and tell him you’re nervous you’ll forget to remind him of a step up or down, nervous you’ll walk him right into something or someone. He finds it adorable, especially given the fact that he has better coordination and direction than you ever will.

He’s not ready to tell you that yet, though the secret is constantly brimming at his lips, ready to spill at any given moment, regardless of the consequences.

But one day Foggy has a late meeting with a client across town, and Karen has left early for a date, and it’s just you left in the office with him. The long work day ends with a quiet sigh, the office pleasantly peaceful as the last few hours of work tamper off, and Matt startles when you kindly offer to help walk him home. It’s later than you’re usually at the office, and Matt briefly wonders if you’ve stayed because he had needed to finish things and wasn’t able to leave at a decent time.

Matt strives for a healthier life-work-vigilante balance, has worked for it since things ended with Fisk a little over a year ago, but he’s still a work in progress. He’s addicted to his work, both the work that sees the light of day and the work that doesn’t, and he still sometimes forgets that it impacts others, too, despite the constant drilling of these details into his mind by Foggy and Karen.

“It’s really not necessary,” he tells you with a laugh after the offer spills from your lips, packing his things up and putting his suit jacket back on, sliding his arms through the sleeves. The weather is still decently temperate, the warmth of summer still desperately clinging to New York City, but he can already feel the way the air outside has started cooling down now that the sun has almost finished its descent below the skyscrapers that surround the neighborhood. “I know my way around Hell’s Kitchen well enough. I’ll be okay.”

And the words are true enough, with or without his senses. He’s a New York City boy, through and through, and he knows these streets and city blocks like the back of his hand.

You pick up your purse, pushing the strap over one shoulder, before turning back to him. The sound of your hair and the smell of the shampoo still clinging to each strand stirs a sense of want and yearning, one he so desperately wants to satisfy.

“What if it makes me feel better?”

Matt shakes his head, smirking, the look on his face something Foggy would probably label as the typical Matt Murdock charm. The ticking of the clock echoes through the office, and though he can't read the time, the dull sounds of the New York City streets outside the window tells him it's later than he thought it was.

“And what if the idea of you going out of your way at night just to walk me home makes me feel worse?” He’s teasing, of course, though there’s some level of truth to it. He hates the idea of you walking alone at night, knowing far too well the danger that seems to always lurk in the alleyways, knowing far too well that even he can’t be everywhere at once, should something happen to you.

The words that leave his mouth seem to temporarily quiet you, but Matt’s not shocked when the silence ends after only a moment or two. You're usually quick with a rebuttal, your mind always sifting through sentences and body language, and Matt waits in amusement as you work to find the right reply for the situation.

“It’s hardly night,” you finally respond, decidedly shoving the concern aside easily. “It’s only 7. There’s still a little light out.”

Matt may not be able to see the way his face lights up or darkens with certain expressions, but he knows he’s giving you the driest look possible. “You’d still be going far out of your way. Don’t you live in the opposite direction?”

He hears you scoff, though the sound is more amused than anything. “I can walk you home and take a cab back to my place.”

“You should take a cab back to your place regardless of where you are at this time at night,” he counters, stepping completely out of his office and into the lobby of their space, briefcase in one hand, cane in the other. “But I promise I’m fine on my own. It’s only a few blocks.”

“Humor me.”

It’s a last ditch effort, he’s well aware, if the helpless sigh you let out is anything to go by. You’re waiting for him by the front door, and Matt, despite his protests, wants nothing more than to walk through it with you and bring you home with him.

“Fine,” he says with another sly grin, and he hears the way you exhale in relief. “But only because I’m not going to pass up a few extra minutes with you when you’ve so graciously offered them.”

The words settle between the two of you, and Matt can feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks as vividly as if he was pressed up against you. Your heart skips briefly, and the sound reverberates in his head. He laughs internally in pure satisfaction when you gulp.

“Fine,” you repeat the word back to him, voice slightly higher than it had been a few moments ago, and Matt can’t help but still be secretly pleased with the reaction you’ve given him. “Are you ready then?”

He gestures towards the exit. “Whenever you are.”

“Good,” you say, turning to open the door, but before you can step through it, you pause. Matt tilts his head at you curiously, wordlessly questioning the silence and the way you've hesitated.

“So…this is an awkward question, and I don’t know how to do it delicately, so I’ll just dive in. At what point–”

Matt cuts you off, suddenly knowing where this was going. This time he's unable to hold back a laugh. “You want to know when you should offer your arm.”

There’s not a moment of hesitation on your end when you answer. “Yeah, pretty much.”

The grin on his face widens, and Matt wonders if it’s possible to ever frown when you’re around. “I can make my way to the elevator just fine,” he says with a brief shrug of his shoulders, unsnapping his cane as he takes a few steps forward. “But having help after that is always appreciated.”

“Got it,” you reply with a quick nod. You turn back to the door, finally opening it up, and step back so that he has room to walk through. “After you, Matt.”

He resists the urge to brush past you as closely as he possibly can, and instead places a careful distance between your body and his. It's almost excruciating, this self-imposed separation, but he pushes the feeling down.

He doesn't need your assistance with this particular task, but he'll be damned if he doesn't take full advantage.

It’s not long before the elevator is dropping you down at the lowest level, and the doors slide open with a quiet ding. He follows your lead, taking a step outside and into the fresh air of the building lobby, and waits patiently for you to reach for him.

Your hand is trembling as it stretches out to grab his, Matt notes curiously, but it’s steady by the time it pulls him slightly forward. Soft fingers settle on the skin of his wrist, and he adjusts his body so that he’s grasping the crook of your elbow as you step further in.

Matt’s stood intoxicatingly close to you before. He's felt the heat of your body close to his as you pass him files, or when you sit next to him at lunch. He’s felt the length of your hair brush his arm lightly as you reach for something that is on the other side of him, felt the way your breath fans over his face when you lean in to whisper something in his ear while at court. It drives him crazy, these little moments of feeling you, always burning and aching for more.

But through all of that, nothing has prepared him for the feeling of silk that encases your upper arm and the way it feels against your skin resting underneath it. He’s sure he’s gone to heaven, or whatever sort of heaven is possible for a man like him, and he knows then and there that he needs to feel the way your skin will slide against the silk of his own sheets.

You feel far too wonderful him in that moment, wrapped in the soft material the way that you are, and Matt relishes the way your sensitive skin is an equal match to his, knowing he’ll never have to wonder or worry about rough, scratchy fabric rubbing against him if you can help it. It’s exhilarating, this idea that you’ll always be soft and ready for him.

He’s going to have you, one day. You may not know it yet, but there will be a day when he has you spread out and waiting underneath him, and he’ll tell you that it was this moment that was the tipping point for him.

It's hard to focus as you walk him home, saying your goodbyes at his doorstep when a cab pulls up, and he knows his hand will feel empty and bereft until it has the chance to settle on you once more. It’s like he was always meant to hold you, always meant to touch you, and he’ll wait patiently for you to come to the same realization.

2. Hearing

Matt has long since learned to drown out noises that aren’t necessary to the tasks at hand. His ears always pick up everything going on around him, relying on them more often than not for obvious reasons, but he’s mastered the art of tuning things out if they are not currently relevant to what he is working on. It’s a skill Stick had taught him, and it is perhaps the best thing that man had ever done for him, encouraging him to focus in the moment while forever remaining vigilant.

The same cannot be said for you.

He's not exactly sure when the others pick up on the way you need things to be softer, but he notices the first time you flinch as the front door slams shut by mistake.

A potential client, rejected by their team due to several, incessant lies that pour from his mouth in the thirty minutes they meet with him, storms out of the office in annoyance. He mutters angrily to himself as he leaves, and yanks the door behind him, the sound of it echoing throughout the office.

The sound was expected by Matt, having already anticipated the way it would reverberate throughout their space due to the heaviness and speed of the door headed towards the frame, but with his senses trained towards you, as they so often are, he doesn't miss the way you flinch and cover your ears.

Harsh and loud noises are triggering for you, it seems, and it’s something he can fully sympathize with, unfortunately. He finds it concerning, if not a little intriguing, this flash of vulnerability you display.

Your voice is gentle as it floats out around the office, rarely rising above a certain decibel, almost encouraging those around you to keep things quiet as well. It's impacted the way he, Foggy and Karen listen and speak to each other, making an effort not to shout things through offices, but rather get up and find the person they’re talking to. The transition happens almost over night, and he can sense the way your body relaxes the longer you are employed with them, trusting the team to use voices that aren’t louder than they really need to be.

Over the course of the months you spend settling into their team, you're frequently invited to happy hour at Josie's. It’s easy for him to pick up on the way you love joining the team, having told them you hadn’t felt like New York was home until you accepted their offer of employment, and it warms him. Your cheeks flush with the buzz of alcohol, your posture relaxes, and your speech becomes less poised, less polished. And every time you join them, without fail, you have soft, silicone plugs nestled in your ears while you're seated at the table.

Tonight you’re seated next to him, something that Matt had carefully orchestrated while you were placing a drink order at the bar, adjusting himself so that the only open seat would be next to him. He tries not to give himself away, but he can’t help but lean into you as far as he can without making it extremely obvious how much he wants to be pressed against you at all times.

He inhales sharply when you abruptly twist your body so that you’re angled towards him in a way that suggests he might not be alone in this need that runs viciously through him.

Matt does his best to focus in on the story you’re telling, your arms gesturing wildly as you regale the group with a funny anecdote about your younger brother. Your voice, despite the loudness of the bar, is still gentle in its cadence, and Matt has long since determined that no other voice will ever captivate him the way yours does.

When you’re done, you take a long sip of your drink, the liquid sliding down your throat, and Matt longs to wrap his hand around the column of your neck just to feel it, while maybe tilting your head back to kiss you in the process.

Before Matt has the chance to ask you a follow-up question about your brother, curious to know more about the life you’ve led before moving to New York, Foggy jumps in with a question of his own, shouting over the noise of the bar.

"I've never asked before, but why do you wear ear plugs when we come here?"

You freeze next to him, and for a brief second Matt wants to shove his friend off of his bar stool. It’s a question he’s always had, though he thinks he already knows the answer, but he hates the way you’ve been put on the spot. He opens his mouth to tell you that you don’t need to answer, but you reply anyway, cutting him off.

"I, uh…I can get overwhelmed with loud noises," you explain quietly, fidgeting with the napkin still resting in your lap, placed there to wipe salt and grease off of your fingers as you munch on the french fries the group had ordered. "Sometimes it just gets to be too much. I can't focus on what's going on in front of me because everything else is just too loud. The ear plugs drown some things out."

Foggy tilts his head in curiosity, and Matt throws him a look of warning, wordlessly asking him to tread carefully, unwilling to let anything upset you. It had surprised him, initially, his reaction to the thought of you being uncomfortable, but now he knows and no longer questions the fact that he’d gladly rake his body over flaming coals if it meant you were always safe and happy and settled in whatever environment you found yourself in.

Foggy hasn’t caught on to his feelings just yet, but Karen has, and he can practically feel the amused side-eye she’s shooting him.

He rests a hand on your knee gently, intending to only leave it there for a second, but your hand suddenly reaches down and grabs it, easily interlacing your fingers with his. Matt tracks the way your cheeks flush, the way your heartbeat stutters for a split second, and is unable to stop the way his face splits open in a smile.

"Can you hear us okay, then? When you have them in?" Foggy questions, continuing on with the topic, completely oblivious to the body language of the people around him.

You let out a quiet laugh. "You're sitting close enough that it's not really an issue. But I am decent at reading lips, so that usually helps, too."

“Gotcha,” Foggy says with an easy smile. “Let me know if there’s ever anything we can do to help make you more comfortable."

The conversation about your ear plugs ends there, Matt steering them gently towards another topic to help lead the focus off of something he can tell you're slightly self-conscious about, and he's rewarded by another squeeze of his hand.

After that evening, the group still goes to Josie's fairly often, but they begin taking turns hosting happy hour at their own individual apartments. It becomes a frequent habit, ordering take out and staying in rather than going out, and Matt easily admits to himself that the quieter get-togethers are easier on his own ears, too.

The lack of the sharp noises and drunken chatter of a bar also gives him the ability to focus on your heartbeat just that much easier, jumping whenever he gently brushes his fingers over yours when handing you another drink or carton of fried rice, and that alone makes the slight change worth it.

Matt is committed at this point, intimately aware of what his presence does to you, and while he’d wait forever, he’s desperate to hear every single moan, gasp, or sigh he can draw out of you with his body pressed against yours.

"I never did thank you," you say quietly one evening, helping toss the beer bottles in his recycling bin. Foggy and Karen left ten minutes ago, claiming the need to prep a few more things before trial tomorrow, though Matt knows they had strategically left him alone with you on purpose.

Sometimes he thinks his friends are trying to get back at him for the years of chaos and tears he’s caused them.

"Thank me for what?" He asks, throwing some of the leftover Chinese into his fridge. He packs up a small bag of leftover white rice and vegetables for you to take, knowing without verbal confirmation that the slight blandness is something you'll enjoy and appreciate. He enjoys it, too, strong flavors sometimes too much for him, but he would rather you have it.

"You're the one who started encouraging us to spend time as a smaller group at someone's place, rather than going out," you say, voice floating through his apartment. He may not yet have told you about his own senses, but for some reason you've picked up on the way he can always hear you, no matter how soft or loud you are. "And I just really appreciate it. Going out isn't a big deal, but this is still a nice change sometimes."

Matt steps out of his kitchen to where you've picked up your purse from his table and stands directly in front of you, close enough to reach out and touch. He notices the way your breathing catches, as it always does when he stands near, and for whatever reason, tonight he feels emboldened to fully lean into it.

He reaches out to run a gentle finger down your cheekbone, and you sigh and seem to lean into it instinctively. It's all the encouragement he needs to continue. "I've found that I'd do just about anything to make sure you're comfortable," he says, enjoying the way your skin heats, and he takes another step forward, hand now fully cupping the side of your face. "Whatever you need from me to help that, I'll do it."

You pause for a moment, apparently weighing something in your mind, and he feels the moment you've made some sort of decision. He stands still when you take a tiny step towards him, the heat of you downright scalding, and he waits with bated breath for you to say something.

"You don't need to do anything, Matt," you whisper quietly, taking his other hand in yours. "But thank you all the same. Truly."

Months of him needing you near more than he needs to breathe, months of him needing to put you first before all other things in his life, causes him to close the distance, unable and unwilling to spend one more second of not knowing what your mouth feels like underneath his.

Your lips are warm and soft as he presses against them, and he keeps the kiss gentle. Your hands reach up to wrap themselves in his shirt, and Matt knows he'll spend the rest of his life wanting to hear nothing else but that quiet sigh that leaves your mouth as it parts for his.

3. Taste

Matt grew up in perhaps one of the most unique melting pots in the world.

New York City is an explosive mixture of cultures and ethnicities and races, and he’s been exposed to all the wonderful things that come with the mixture of so many people living in his city - the different music, the different languages, the different dreams and ideals.

But the one thing that never fails to disappoint and sadden him about it is the fact that all the different foods of the world, so easily within his grasp, can be extremely overwhelming to his sense of taste. It’s a sense of irony that he doesn’t appreciate.

Over the years, he’s learned to cook with minimal spices and flavors, almost desperate to avoid making his taste buds go haywire, but though everything he makes is nourishing and edible, it doesn’t necessarily make them…good. Matt has a relatively bland diet, sticking to foods and flavors that are subtle, and the repetition is boring.

But then…you come along.

It’s like an explosion, the flavors you bring with you in your lunches and snacks every day. Matt’s mouth salivates over the meals you bring in, knowing without tasting them that nothing you make will overwhelm his taste buds. It’s never anything fancy, he admits. But you’ve tossed ingredients and spices together in a way that he would have never thought to mix, and it suddenly sets him on a renewed journey of finding new things he can’t wait to try.

Rich and savory spices and herbs spill out of your small backpack as you load them in the fridge every day, and the way the scents sometimes stick to your skin makes him want to take you home and never take his tongue off of you.

…which, he feels that way one hundred percent of the time anyway, the taste of your skin divine by itself, but these moments bring out his hunger for you even more. He's had his tongue on you now, had it in you, and he'd gladly spend the rest of his time here on Earth tasting nothing but the salt on every single inch of your body that you'll let him touch.

He's only made love to you once, but Matt can no longer imagine his life without your taste in his mouth.

It's a rainy Friday night in Hell's Kitchen when you manage to drag him to one of your favorite restaurants, though the word drag is used lightly. He's eager and selfish enough to take every spare second you'll give him, but even he can admit that some cases at work require late evenings. There's an everlasting desire to press his lips to yours, if only to draw out every sound he now knows you can make, so he follows you anyway, despite the heavy workload resting on the secondhand desk that's situated in his office.

The streets of New York City are wet and miserable, but you pull him happily with you, and he has no control over the heart that has decided your hand is a better home and keeper than his own chest.

Before you even round the corner with him half a step behind, he knows instinctively what restaurant you’re taking him to without a word being spoken. It's a few blocks outside of Hell's Kitchen, so he's never really walked by this restaurant before, but now, just a few hundred feet from him, it calls to him, a delicious mixture of spices and herbs and sugars rolling across his tongue that are satisfying without being overwhelming.

He takes his time on your arm, enjoying the way you sway and swerve in between other pedestrians, simply because it gives him an excuse to hold onto you that much tighter. And by the time he holds the door open for you to step inside, Matt's mouth is almost drooling in want and hunger.

It's not long before food is being placed in front of you both, and he wastes not a single second before diving in. He knew before he even entered the restaurant that he was about to eat one of the most fantastic meals of his life, outside of the classic bacon and eggs and pancakes his father used to make him every Saturday morning while he watched cartoons.

The same explosion of flavors that he had smelled from outside is there, foods that are bold but still somehow subtle, and he swears he's never tasted a combination of ingredients and sauces and spices that fit so well with his palette.

Add in the fact that the restaurant uses natural products to clean their dishes and wash their vegetables, rather than burning chemicals that scald both his nose and tongue, and it makes him feel like he never wants to eat anywhere else again.

He also never wants to eat or discover new things with anyone else but you again, but that's a conversation for another time.

"This is one of my favorite places to come to," you say lightly with a soft smile on your lips, and Matt hmms in agreement, because it has suddenly managed to become one of his favorites, too. "I found it a few months back. It’s relatively new, I think. It just has so many options to choose from that fit with the sorts of things I like."

Matt lifts his fork to his mouth, eyes briefly shutting in contentment, a swirl of rich, savory flavors that settle enticingly on his tongue. He savors it before he swallows.

He can track down every ingredient used for this specific dish. The vegetables are the same ones Monica Smith sells in her small market on 42nd, the chicken from the butcher on 57th. Most of these ingredients are sold fresh and locally, sources that Matt often trusts with his own meals that he cooks himself, and there's nothing more comforting than tasting Hell’s Kitchen, than tasting home on his tongue.

"Do you come here often, then?" He asks once he places his fork down and takes a sip of his drink.

Your mouth twists into a smirk. "You've already got me, Matthew. No need to use a pick up line.”

A startled laugh escapes his throat, and the sound echoes throughout the quiet restaurant. "That's not how I meant it."

"Felt like you were putting the moves on me like we were some sort of dive bar," you tease. You blow on the spoonful of soup you're about to wrap your mouth around to eat, and Matt can't help but think of the way your mouth had been wrapped around him not too long ago.

"No need to put the moves on you when I've apparently already got you, sweetheart," he fires back with a grin. "Though I'd be very interested in discussing that particular fact later. In detail."

A quiet laugh trickles over to him. "That can probably be arranged."

"Good," is all he says. He takes another bite, and you mirror him, finally placing the spoon in your mouth. Matt lets out a quiet moan, both at the taste of the food in his mouth and the taste that's now resting on your tongue, eager to pull you to him and share it with you by way of placing his mouth greedily on yours.

"But to answer your question, I do," you tell him once you swallow, and Matt simultaneously attempts to push the arousal away temporarily (he fails), and smiles at the way your voice sounds wistful and happy. He hopes the sound can be contributed to his company just as much as the food in front of you. "It's hard for me to find places that I like."

He tilts his head to the side. "Any specific reason why?"

You shrug, and Matt's attention lazily drifts to the sound the silk makes as it slides over your shoulders. He's had you in his bed now, and the sound of silk and your skin gliding against each other will forever be etched into his memory.

"Too many places just use ingredients that don't…taste right to me," you answer easily. "Too much salt. Too much grease. Too much everything, really. This place is more gentle, more thoughtful with how they prepare things, I think. Things just feel more natural here."

Matt has to bite back a smile because you just…get it.

He hasn't said a word to you about his senses, not yet at least, but somehow everything about you just fits with him, like you're two pieces of a puzzle, meant to connect and stay connected, revealing an image that only the two of you can see and feel.

"I understand what you mean by that," he says softly, reaching out to grasp your hand in his before he pulls away to grab his beer. "Have you always been that way? Sensitive to different foods? I've noticed the types of things you bring in for lunch; seems to be a common thread."

He feels the way your hand halts on its way to your mouth, and the pause sets him briefly on edge, the sound of your heartbeat stuttering for just a quick second. Opening his mouth, Matt means to ask what's wrong, but you answer before he can do so.

"Yeah, I've always been like this. I, uh…I'm on the spectrum," you tell him before shoving the bite of your salad in your mouth. Matt's mouth drops a fraction of an inch, honestly having not suspected the response. But it makes him pause, because all of a sudden it clicks that he has observed traits that seem to be consistent with what he knows about the diagnosis.

Sensitivity to sound. Sensitivity to certain fabrics. Sensitivity to taste. He hadn't caught on before, but now it just…makes sense.

You continue. "I'm a fairly mild case, honestly, but certain tastes and textures of food are just overwhelming sometimes, or they don't feel right in my mouth. It's hard to explain."

His focus quickly shifts to the way you adjust in your seat, as if nervous about his reaction, and he finds himself intensely disliking the thought of you regretting your admission in any way.

"You could try to explain, if you're comfortable with it," he suggests softly, reaching out to gently grasp and squeeze your hand again before he pulls back, needing you to know that anything you divulge is safe with him. He hopes that when he's ready to divulge a secret of his own, you'll sit and really hear him, the way he's always needed someone to hear him, the way he's always needed someone to hear him and still love him.

"Whatever you have to say, I want to listen."

Taking a deep breath, you place your fork on your plate, though Matt doesn't necessarily take it as a sign that you're uncomfortable with the topic, to which he is grateful, but rather something that indicates you're planning in your head what you want to say.

When you finally answer, Matt is utterly powerless to do nothing but give you every single cell of attention that resides in his body.

"I'm not necessarily shy about it, I'm actually pretty open about it, but I guess there's not much to say," you begin, sounding less hesitant than you had sounded just seconds before. "It's pretty common for people on the spectrum to be picky eaters, and that's always been the case for me. But even if it's common, it doesn't mean it's necessarily well understood why, and no two people and their reactions are the same. For some reason, it tends to be more prevalent in women, which makes it even more difficult to track or explain because there isn't a ton of research on women who are autistic. Most studies focus on men."

He hmms in the back of his throat, tilting his head to the side in consideration. "I guess I hadn't really thought about that."

"Most people don't," you say after another bite, and he frowns lightly at the tone of nonchalance in your voice, because even though you sound unaffected, he can hear the quiet waver that suggests that there's a part that ever so slightly bothers you at people's general lack of acknowledgment of the matter. He vows to learn every single thing you're able to teach him, vows to read every single book, published article, or internet post he can find. "Long story short, my sense of taste tends to be limited in terms of what I can tolerate, you know?"

Matts quiet for a moment before he responds. "Oddly enough, I can understand that," he says with a small smile, raising his glass to take another sip of his drink.

"I figured you would," you reply with a light shrug, the movement stirring the air around you, making the scent of you carry over to him enticingly. He opens his mouth ever so slightly to catch the taste on his tongue. "You tend to order pretty simple things when we all go out. You stick to the same foods and drinks for the most part."

A smirk replaces the grin on his face. "You've been paying attention to me? What am I supposed to do with that information, I wonder?"

He can feel the way your face flushes, and he imagines the color that is blooming rapidly across your cheeks. He vaguely remembers the color red, and he wonders if your skin is vibrant and bold right now, or if the hue is soft and sweet.

"Am I wrong, though?" You ask, neatly avoiding his own questions. "You prefer things that are subtle, things that taste smooth, as opposed to things that taste sharp or in your face, I guess? Do you know what I mean by that?"

"I do. Things that are easy rather than bold," he says with a quick nod. "I can't do bitter or spicy or sour."

Your face splits into a grin. "Exactly. Certain flavors are nice, but they can't be overwhelming or I just kinda…start to shut down. I don't tend to like new things. I'm perfectly happy sticking to the things I know I like."

Matt leans back in his seat as he places his napkin on the table in front of him. He waits until you swallow before speaking again, diving in for the kill, knowing exactly what sort of reaction he's hoping to get from you.

"I'm typically the same way," he says with a smirk. "Though, based on the other night, I'd have to say that my new favorite taste is you."

Your skin flares to life again as you take in a sharp breath, and the smile on his mouth is wide with borderline glee and satisfaction when you give him just the response he had been looking for.

He practically pats himself on the back for a job well done, but is unprepared for your response.

"Well," you say slowly, voice quiet and wavering for just a split second before it strengthens, "if that's the way you feel, then maybe we could go back to your place and you can have me for dessert."

It's Matt's turn to be momentarily speechless, and while blood had rushed to your cheeks at his comment, his own blood heads straight to his cock at yours, and at the thought of having his mouth on you again makes him go absolutely feral.

When he regains his ability to speak, he flags down the waiter he can hear at the table next to him, and asks for the check with a speed he's never managed to achieve, despite his years of snapping at the heels of every violent and manipulative criminal in Hell's Kitchen.

Your soft laugh continues to echo in his ear as he practically drags you to his apartment.

4. Scent

You miss two or three days of work a month due to what you’ve described as chronic migraines, and the whole office cringes in sympathy whenever you call out. Matt is no stranger to headaches, having had his head bashed in too many times to count, and he knows he’s caused several headaches of his own for Foggy and Karen, the direct result of them being friends with a man who is always finding himself in some sort of trouble.

But migraines, he’s heard, are a whole different ball game, and it saddens him to think of you in so much pain.

When you first started working for their firm, the team used to come to your home and bring you case files and notes at your request, as you were always eager to prove that you were a valuable member of their team, despite the illness that randomly knocked you on your ass for sometimes 24 to 48 hours. They all trust you to complete your work, usually staying late and working weekends to make up for lost time, and for months he humored you, if for no other reason than to have an excuse to show up on your doorstep and check up on you.

Now, though…it’s different.

He ignores your request to bring the files over, and is instead armed with decaffeinated coffee, green tea, peppermint tea, anything and everything he’s researched that is recommended to help ease you out of a migraine and prevent future ones. He’s not sure how much of it all works, but he’s willing and desperate to lessen your pain, even if only for a few minutes.

You’d gifted him with a key just a few weeks ago, shortly after he had told you he loved you for the first time. Unlike most things in his life, being with you is effortless and calm. The transition from friendship to this was seamless, the pair of you somehow knowing this was something meant to last, so he lets himself quietly into your apartment without a second thought.

The air conditioning is cranked up and blasting as it always is when a migraine sets in, something about heat being a trigger for you, and he doesn’t need to see to know that all the blinds are shut, cutting out all of the natural light and the warmth that would have hit his skin through the windows.

You’re in your bedroom, your heartbeat too rapid for his liking, so he sets the items he’s brought over onto your counter, removes his shoes and suit jacket, and makes his way towards you. You don’t say anything when he settles in behind you, just grabs his arm and pulls it around you, and within a few moments, you’re dead asleep. It’s as if you had been waiting on him before you could fully relax, trusting him to watch over you in your moments of vulnerability.

It’s hours later, well into the evening, when you finally stir again, your body stretching before sinking further into his. Matt had drifted off to sleep beside you for a bit, but had already been awake for an hour before your eyes fluttered open, grateful that your heart rate had decreased and your breathing settled into something more peaceful. The way your body physically reacts to any sort of stress, whether it be sickness or an impending deadline, never fails to put him on edge, ready to leap into the fray of whatever has the potential to cause you harm.

“You’re still here?” Your voice is groggy with sleep, though it’s not as tight with pain as it normally is when you’re in the throes of a migraine, so Matt finds himself relieved that the worst of it may have passed.

“I didn’t want to leave,” he whispers in your ear, tightening the arm resting around your waist. “I don’t have to go out for another few hours or so.”

“What time is it?”

“Just after 7,” he said, placing a kiss to the top of your head from where it’s almost tucked under his chin. “I got here around 3, after the meeting with that new client.”

“And you stayed the whole time?” The words are quiet, but they still sound slightly incredulous. “Matt…you had so much to do today.”

“Nothing more important than making sure you’re okay,” Matt responds easily, slotting his legs up behind yours, pressing the entire length of his body against you. You’d called early this morning while he had been on his way to work, claiming that an awful migraine had started up last night, and he had rushed through his day as quickly as possible. “Are you feeling better?”

You make a non-committal noise. “Maybe a little. I think my meds kicked in this afternoon.”

Matt hums quietly in your ear. “Have you considered a new brand? They don’t seem to be helping much. You still get them pretty frequently.”

Shifting in his hold, you suddenly turn to face him, and Matt adjusts by rolling slightly on to his back, allowing you to curl up against his side and lay your head on his chest. Matt uses the opportunity to brush a kiss against your forehead, the heat of your skin against his always welcome. He had long since removed his pants and shirt, having taken them off before he decided to nap with you, and the way you snuggle closer reminds him that you like being skin to skin just as much as he does.

“They help as much as they can,” you say with a subtle shrug. “It’s hard when something triggers it.”

Matt stills the hand that had naturally risen up to brush lightly against your back. “What triggered it?”

“The lady that came in yesterday afternoon.”

He furrows his brow, searching back through his memory. “Mrs. Henderson?” He feels you nod against his chest, still shuddering and inching impossibly closer. “What about her?”

“It was her perfume.”

“Her perfume triggered the migraine?” You nod again, and Matt frowns mildly as he starts piecing some things together.

It clicks. “Are you migraines…scent triggered?”

You sigh against him, throwing a leg over his, further settling yourself against him, and Matt tightens his arm. Your eyes flutter shut as you speak. “Yeah, usually. Being around strong scented things can be awful.”

Matt’s not sure why he hadn’t recognized it before, now that he thinks back on it. The way your apartment always smells clean, but not in a way that smells like a solution of pure chemicals. It always smells more natural, made up of subtle scents that are warm rather than piercing. Your detergent is in similar fashion, and the shampoo you use on your hair is soft and almost indistinct to anyone who doesn't have a nose like his. No candles. No air fresheners. It’s a wonder that he hasn’t noticed it, given the fact that he has always used similar products at his own place that are equally kind to his nose.

“How come I didn’t know this?” Matt questions curiously. He should have known, uniquely prepared and understanding of yet another sensory factor that he has in common with you. But unlike your own unique sensitivity, Matt has found a way to block out most scents, especially the more unpleasant ones that come with living in New York City.

“Didn’t seem important.”

“Didn’t seem–? It’s super important, if it means there’s something that causes you this much pain,” he argues quietly, resuming the movement of his hand running up and down your back. You arch into the touch. “I might not be able to help all of the time, but I might be able to help with this.”

Matt knows you know exactly what he’s talking about, having told you his biggest secret not long into the relationship. You take a sudden deep breath.

“I guess I didn’t think of it that way,” you admit quietly. “It didn’t really occur to me, that this might be something you could maybe…help with.”

“We’ll figure it out, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear, shifting his head to kiss your cheek. “Whatever I can do to help, just like I said before.”

You nod sleepily into his chest, the conversation having apparently worn you out already, and Matt huffs a laugh when your eyes close again and don't reopen.

It doesn’t take long to develop a routine from there on out. Matt’s able to pick up on a scent headed up the elevator that he knows will bother you, long before the client even enters the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page, and he takes great care in either encouraging you to work from home the rest of the day, or hoarding you in his own office, the quiet and unassuming scent of your shampoo and detergent an everlasting sense of peace to his own sensitive nose.

It’s only been a few months, but he has every intention of permanently blending your scent with his.

5. Sight

You prefer muted lights over fluorescent ones.

It doesn’t take long for Matt to notice that the lights in your apartment are warm and relaxing, a strong contrast to the lights he can hear in other various settings. It’s no surprise to him, not really, when he pairs this detail with all the other sensitivities you have. And while the low lights are a benefit to your eyes, Matt considers them a benefit to his hearing.

He’s never mentioned it, but even though he can’t see the harsh lights of a courtroom or police station, he can hear them, and the buzzing noise isn’t always pleasant. He can block most things out, but the constant thrumming does wear on his nerves sometimes, a sharp sound that blazes across his skin before settling in his ears.

He appreciates coming home to you, for more reasons than he could ever possibly count, knowing that the only lights you’ve brought with you when you moved in are soft and warm and blessedly quiet.

Matt knows your eyes are sensitive, that you wear sunglasses whenever you’re outside, regardless of sun or rain or snow, and the lenses that perch on your nose have a special blue-light filter to help take away the strain of staring at a computer screen for too long. He split the cost of having custom sized curtains throughout the apartment to drown out some of the light, and he’s heard you explain to Foggy and Karen the reason the backlight on your phone is so muted.

This isn't something he can necessarily relate to, the one sense of five he is lacking and will never regain. He remembers what it was like to see, colors and faces and neighborhoods rich and vibrant, but light had never caused him actual pain.

He will forever live his life in the dark, even while you remain the bright and pulsing star he will never stop orbiting around.

Over the course of the past year and a half, Matt has spent time tracking the similarities he has with you. All the sensitivities that match up, and it's brought so much comfort to his life that he doesn't know how to articulate it. You've begun building a life together that is soft and soothing for you both.

He's not surprised that the topic of his own sight has taken so long to be brought up. Calm and simple conversations have sprouted up here and there, and he's always known that you'd haven't avoided the topic, but rather simply made it clear that while losing his sight has continued to be a large part of his story, it is not necessarily the one that is most important to you.

You have always understood that he is more than his blindness, even before his big reveal. And when the topic finally surfaces, it carries both more and less weight than it has anytime before.

"Matt," you begin quietly, settled in his arms after he absolutely wrecked your world with his fingers, his tongue, and his cock. He's wrapped himself around you from behind, one of his favorite ways to ensure that you're here with him, that you're safe, that you're his. "Can I ask a question?"

He makes a sound in the back of his throat quietly, indicating that yes, you can ask him anything. He has stripped down every barrier that keeps you from him, both his walls and yours, and there is nothing he'll deny you.

You must pick up the unspoken words he's given you in a language only the two of you understand, so you proceed. "If this sounds insensitive, please tell me. I don't want to upset you, I'm just curious."

Beyond interested now, Matt rolls you in his arms until you're facing him. Your breath gently rolls over him as he pushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "What is it, sweetheart?"

Taking a deep breath, your mouth parts in response. "Do you…ever wish you could still see?"

The question makes him pause in a way he hasn't quite stilled before. He's been asked the same question hundreds of times over the decades of his life since the accident, and the answer has always been the same. In an effort to tell people he's happy with where his life is at, in an effort to make people not pity him by him thinking a part of his life is missing, he has always responded with a quick, no, I'm fine. I've gotten used to it.

And while he is fine, the reasoning goes far beneath what he hands out for others to know. Matt may struggle with believing he is worthy of being loved and adored, but one thing he is sure of is that he doesn't owe anyone his story, and that very few deserve to hear it.

He told Karen once that he wished he could see the sky one more time in a rare moment of opening up, though he admits that he had mostly done so to earn her trust in a display of offering a vulnerability. He had hoped it would inspire an admission of her own, something to help guide him towards the next clue to the puzzle in her case, but he had been unsuccessful.

But that was neither here nor there.

The question falling from the lips he'd gladly spend every second pressed against is quiet, less probing than others who have asked, and he knows this is yet one more thing he's unable to keep from you.

Actually, the word is no longer unable, but rather unwilling, because there's not a single piece of himself that he wants to keep hidden from you. You own him, body, heart, and soul, and months ago that acceptance of ownership came with the realization that he has no desire to be anything but open and free beneath your fingertips.

A soft hand runs up his torso and settles over his heart, a quiet yet intentional moment of comfort, and you speak before he gets a chance to reply. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

He shakes his head. "No, it's not that. I'm just thinking."

"Take your time, love," is all you say, and the term of endearment never fails to knock him off his feet. You are his love, but he is also yours.

With a subtle clearing of his throat, he opens his mouth to answer, not an ounce of hesitation, though the words at first seem disjointed because he's not quite sure how to say what he wants to say.

"I…yes and no," he starts softly in your ear. "There...are certain things I wish I could see at least once, or at least one more time, but for the most part, no. I don't necessarily wish that."

Sheets rustle as you push a thigh between his to press even closer. "Is it because you just have accepted it? That there's nothing you can do about it, so no use thinking about it?"

"In some ways, sure," he tells you, pointer finger drawing lazy circles on your hip. "But I was angry about it for a long time. Angry that my vision was taken from me because I tried to help someone. I felt like I had been punished by a god who only ever saw the devil in me, rather than the good I had tried to do, even as a kid. But that anger shifted the older I got, and rather than blame God, I blamed the rest of the world for all the injustices, feeling like I was doomed to do nothing but hear them. And it made me furious that everyone else had the ability to actually see these horrible things happening, and yet they did nothing."

"So…you let the devil out," you murmur against his chest, already familiar with this part of the story, having heard the explanation of what had made him snap, the final straw that broke the camel's back.

"Yes," he whispers back, knowing you held no blame or disgust associated with the sentence you had just let out. "I let the devil out."

Once upon a time he had begged Foggy to understand why he had chosen this particular path, asking him to forgive him for doing what he had thought necessary to save that little girl. He had repeated the process with Karen some time after that, but the results had been even worse the second time, the lie in their friendship and failed relationship a chasm between the two of them.

But with you…there had been no begging involved. No praying at your feet that you would understand it, understand him. The shock had been there, true, when he finally revealed himself all those months ago, laying all his cards on the table, yours to do with what you wished.

A silence had echoed between you, one that had felt like years but had only actually lasted a split second, before you picked up all the cards he had given you, tucked them in your chest for safe keeping, and responded with endless amounts of love and affection. You'd taken his hand just as easily as you'd taken his heart, told him you trusted him to do what he thought was right, and that there was not a single piece of him that you did not want and adore.

"And now? How do you feel about it now? About not being able to see?"

"I talked about this once with Maggie," he replies, recalling the conversation he'd had with her years ago underneath the church. "This idea of looking back on the past and trying to figure out if the life we led was on the right path or not. I told her about all the anger I had felt, all the hurt and betrayal. It took me a long time to realize that maybe God thought sight was unnecessary to do what needed to be done, and that I needed to go through the things I did in order to become Daredevil."

"And has that helped you? Thinking about it that way?"

"Yes," he says without hesitation, without pause. "If getting back my sight meant losing everything else, losing all the things that have helped me to help others, then it wouldn't be worth it."

"That makes sense," you whisper quietly against his chest. Your hair rubs against his skin, and Matt sighs at the contact. "You're Daredevil. Daredevil is Matt Murdock. There's no separating the two, because you're both. You wouldn't be your full self if you couldn't do what you can do."

He pulls you tighter against him. "Yes, I....that's exactly it," he says with a rush of breath that slides over your hair and skin. "I couldn't…be me without it. So, no. I don't wish I could see, not if it meant giving this up."

"And you don't feel the need to see."

Matt can't help but love the way it's a statement, and not a question.

"I don't," he says simply. "I've lived the vast majority of my life without sight, and I can live the rest without it, too. I have Foggy. I have Karen. I have our practice. And I have you. My life is complete the way it is."

Fingers trail up his chest, up his neck, and settle on his cheek. Matt instinctively leans his head into the touch, relishing the way you always manage to provide love and affection without saying a word.

He's not necessarily sensitive to the topic anymore, and certainly never could be with you, this wonderful person in his life who has filled him with warmth, a steady flame licking at his heart and spreading outwards, always finding every crack and crevice to stitch together and make whole.

He'll never be able to fully articulate the way he's never felt like home with anyone else but you, never be able to fully articulate the way you've righted the axis of his life that has not felt safe or secure since his father died.

All he can do is try.

Try to explain just how you've pulled him in like a moth to the flame, but never once tried to burn him.

"My eyes haven't worked since I was 9, but you manage to help me see, sweetheart. In a way no one else has been able to before, " he says, and the words cause your breathing to hitch. He continues without much pause. "You describe things to me without me asking. I can hear and feel everything so much, but there's always going to be things I can't pick up on, and you've filled that void for me."

Your hand twitches, curling into itself on his chest, and he doesn't waste a single second reaching up to flatten it against his heart again. "Matt." Your voice is thick with an emotion mimicking both surprise and reverence, and your heartbeat has sped up considerably.

Bending his neck lightly, he brushes his lips across your forehead. "You just naturally tell me about things going on around me, as if you had been doing it your whole life. I thought it was cute before you knew what I was capable of picking up on, but you haven't stopped. You still describe colors and facial expressions and funny signs you see when we're outside. You still tell me all about these things you notice, as if you want to make sure I don't miss a single thing, and I love you for it."

Seemingly stunned into silence, you lay cradled up against him, heart racing and skin flushed and warm. Winding his hand in your hair, Matt pulls your head back, and waits until he knows for sure your eyes have rested on his face. His smile is soft, as is the skin of your cheek when he moves his hand to stroke a thumb down your cheek, picking up a stray tear that rolled down.

He tilts his head down to kiss you, but before he can move an inch, you're pulling his mouth down towards yours with a hand of your own wrapped around the back of his neck.

He pulls away after a brief moment before he gently rolls you onto your back, parting your thighs so that he can lay between them, anxious to be pressed against you, pressed in you, in every way he can. You moan as his weight settles on top of you, though it changes to a quiet gasp when his cock slides inside, your cunt still wet from where he had finished inside you not an hour before.

He's pretty sure you're nothing but wet when you're around him, something that never fails to arouse a sharp sense of satisfaction that he makes your body react that way. It makes it easy to take you whenever he wants, your body ready for his with his name and a murmured yes on your lips.

Matt captures your mouth again with a soft kiss, and when he pulls away, even as his hips rock languidly against yours, he can't help but whisper the words that have unconsciously circled in his head for months now.

"Out of everything out there, out of everything you've told me or described to me, if I could see only one thing in the world, it would be your face when you say I do."

And with that, he laces his fingers with yours as he presses your hand into the mattress next to your head, lightly tracing over the engagement ring he had slid on to your ring finger not too long ago.

It seems that every one of your sensory sensitivities matches his in some way or another, and he can’t help but be thrilled, be calmed by it. The idea of spending the rest of his life side by side with someone he not only loves and adores and cherishes more than his own life, but someone who appreciates and understands the way that the world is just too much sometimes, someone who has helped him find peace in a way he had never thought possible, has forever changed this path that his life has always been on.

Your mouth parts in a sigh underneath his, and he spends the rest of the night using all four senses to drive you both to the edge over and over again, aware that he'll never need his sight to see how perfectly, how flawlessly you were made for him.

#daredevil #matt murdock #human disaster matt murdock #marvel #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil x fem reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #reader insert

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puckarchives · 3 months

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i can see you: l. hughes

blurb: falling in love with luke — a brother's best friend fic. / word count: 1.7k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader; fantilli!sister x luke hughes

It wasn’t meant to become more than a semester fling — nothing more than a few nights you had spent wrapped up in Luke, basking in all of his attention. What the two of you hadn’t expected, however, was the reality that you now faced: those nights had become something much more, and regardless of where you stood in each other’s lives, both of you were ready for the frenzied kisses behind closed doors to turn into daytime dates, and to finally take the next step in actually creating a relationship.

That, of course, would have been a lot easier if you weren’t a Fantilli, and if your brothers weren’t best friends with the boy you had fallen in love with over the past year. You knew Luke and Adam were friends; it was evident every time he’d come over, or when you’d find them lounging around after practice — hell, it was even evident in the way that people got the names “Luca” and “Luke” mixed up on the ice, and would call your brother “Luke” before he realized that they were talking to him.

Despite these feelings, you knew dating each other wouldn’t garner the best reaction from your brothers; they were protective of their baby sister, and despite playing on the same team as him, and being close friends, no one wanted their teammates to date their little sister, right?

Now, this wouldn’t have bothered the two of you that much; atleast, it wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t ended up at said boy’s lake house, where you would be spending the rest of your summer.

When the idea of joining the Hughes boys at their lake house was first brought up, you were privy to the conversation in a way no one would have ever imagined. In fact, when dates were being discussed between Luke, Jack, and Quinn, the older two Hughes brothers didn’t even know you were there, and how could they? You were wrapped up in Luke’s hoodie, the entirety of your face turned away from the camera, hiding the fact you were even listening at all — and to be entirely fair, you weren’t, considering you were half-asleep. So, it was set — the Fantilli’s would be invited alongside the rest of the UMich boys — and, of course, you’d be invited too; an extension of Adam and Luca that they all didn’t even think twice about.

Now, though, as you sat on the floor of your bedroom in the lake house, you couldn’t help but also feel like, despite how much you were looking towards the weeks you’d spend out in the sun, that you still wouldn’t be able to enjoy the summer — not when Luke was just two doors down, but was basically untouchable. Since you’d come along, and since the lake house only housed a good fifteen people, you had been given your own room — the small attic bedroom at the very top of the stairs — while Luca and Adam shared the one next to you, and Luke and Dylan shared the other; Jack and Quinn were sharing, and Trevor and Cole had been sent to the couch. The rest of the boys were spread around the house, with some sleeping on the various air mattresses, while others cooped up in the remaining bedrooms.

So, in order to try and remedy this type of situation — to try and keep your relationship strong in the face of also keeping it private, you decided not to announce it to your brothers, or to the rest of the lake house crew. For now, you wanted to keep it just between the two of you — romance wasn’t dead simply because you kept it from everyone else, right?

This line of thinking, however, brought you into your current predicament — or, more accurately, the predicament you kept finding yourself in. While the days passed and you spent more and more time surrounded by the boys, you were always acutely aware that you were surrounded by Luke, too. But, in order to try and keep yourselves put together, the only way the two of you actually saw or interacted with each other was in the moments when you’d pass by each other in the hallway, or in the kitchen, or even on the couch — the moments in which you could feel your hands brushing against each other, your pinky finger wrapping around his until you heard someone else’s footsteps come along, and you were forced to separate.

It was those small touches that led you to where you are now, a few days into the trip. It was nearing 2AM when everyone finally retired to their rooms, the boys finally giving up on their FIFA tournament they were having downstairs, and finally calling it a night after Quinn and Cole made Zegras clean up his spilled beer. When you were sure you had heard everyone finally pack up, you heard the sounds of a door quietly shutting — almost imperceptible if you weren’t waiting for it.

After a few seconds, you saw your door knob move slowly — and you knew who it was. After the day the two of you had, when Luke had been caught looking at his phone a few too many times, and was chirped at by the boys, you knew he’d end up in your room tonight.

As the door slowly opened, in came Luke — his curls still wet from his shower, and skin red from his time in the sun. He shut the door quickly behind himself, spinning to look at you. You were sitting on the bed, now in your pajamas and fresh-faced after washing out the lake water from your hair, the smile on your face soft, and solely reserved for the man standing in front of you.

“Well, hello there stranger,” you whispered, still caught up in not trying to get caught by your neighbors. When you moved to the edge of the bed, Luke walked towards you slowly, until he stood right in front of you, forcing you to crane your neck in order to look up at him.

Slowly, his right hand came up from his side to cup your jaw, his left hand copying the motion. Still looking at you, he lowered himself until he was hovering above you, his eyes meeting you. He still hadn’t said anything to you, but fuck, was that a sight — Luke looking at you in a way that made you fell like he was peeling back all of your layers; in a way that made you feel almost shy.

Still only millimeters away from your lips, he smiled softly. “Hi, pretty girl,” he whispered back, and god if his voice didn’t do things to you. It was raspy from his yelling earlier that day, but was still soft enough to remind the two of you what you were doing went against everything you had set for yourselves. In fact, anyone could have opened the door and pieced together what was going on between the two of you almost instantly. It was best if you simply moved fast and kept quiet, but you wanted your boy nonetheless.

As Luke kissed you, you could almost feel every single time you had almost been caught on the trip — and the kiss was a reminder of how you were breaking your boundaries. Luke kissed you like a man starve — his soft lips grazing your own in a way that sent chills down your spine, but that lit you up at the same time; you were addicted to him, and he wouldn’t believe half of the things you thought about him n a daily basis, and most importantly, about his lips. In fact, Luke Hughes kissed like no other man you knew; he cradled your jaw in his right hand, while his left went to undo the ponytail you had thrown it up into earlier — unraveling your hair and pulling at the strands so he could tilt your head just right — and just so he could hear your little soft gasp as he bit on your bottom lip.

Pulling away, his eyes (and your own, no doubt,) were hazed over. “You know, I saw you out there today,” you said. You didn’t mean that you saw him as simply part of the group, but that you had seen the moments that no one else caught.

You saw him waiting for you at the end of the hall, always making sure you were never the last one to leave the house, and you saw the way his hand had flexed after it had brushed yours. You had even seen him roll his eyes whenever the boys would chirp at you — because, in a way, Luke wanted that. He wanted the ability to simply hold you in public, to be seen with you without fear of retaliation, or of the fear that you’d get hurt.

“Did you, huh?” he asked. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you earlier — I kept trying to get you away from everyone else, but it’s kind of hard to do that when they’re being idiots,” he laughed. He was right — the boys were a handful, and even more so that they had started day drinking earlier.

Your only response was to laugh softly, and move yourself up the bed, dragging Luke with you. You knew it’d be risky to have him in your room for long, but you just wanted to be with your boy for a while — which is how, after Luke had shuffled off to turn off the lights and crawl into bed with you, you felt his arms encircle you as the two of you laid down facing each other. His right hand came up to move the pieces of hair that had found their way on to your face, and he simply smiled at you, bring you closer to him.

It was in that position that, almost nine hours later, you were woken up by the sound of your door barging open, and the sound of your brother's voices cutting off mid-sentence.

You and Luke had fallen asleep after all and before he could wake up and sneak into his own room, you heard Luca and Adam (followed by Duker, asking the other boys if they knew where Luke had gone,) arguing about something or the other, but didn’t really care until your door was opened — and whatever argument they were having turned into both brothers yelling “What the fuck?” as Duker followed them in, beginning to laugh almost immediately.

Before you could answer, or even untangle yourself from Luke, who was wrapped around you like a koala at this point, you felt him kiss your forehead, and whisper — for your ears only — ”guess they see us too, now.”

#luke hughes #luke hughes is a sap #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #hughes brothers #luca fantilli #adam fantilli #fantilli brothers #umich hockey #umich boys

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onepiece-fics · 1 month

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Law x simp!reader headcanons (+ short scenario)

Summary: Law x simpy/affectionate reader.

Warnings: Fluff. Reader is gender-neutral. Reader is incredibly confident lol. Brief mention of Law's past and struggles with feelings/emotions.

Word count: 1043

Law is the definition of tsundere.

He will NOT admit anything publicly, all of his affection is strictly for your private life.

It’ll take him so long to accept the fact that you two have feelings for each other. He spends literally forever pretending like nothing, despite how open you are about it.

Literally he is just in denial for SO long.

After you flirting with him openly for a few months you have a party where you end up drunkenly properly confessing your feelings for him.

Law being the only sober person that night cannot let go of what you said and confronts you about it the next day.

Although he can’t convey his feelings, your confidence and affection are enough for the two of you.

As you two start dating he starts to get more and more confident in your relationship, and eventually, he starts showing you affection back, but only in private of course.

He’ll start playing with your hair or drawing patterns on your skin eventually. Perhaps he would even cuddle into you if you're both sitting next to each other on a couch.

It takes him damn near a year until he stops getting flustered when you compliment him.

He knows that regardless of how embarrassing it is for him though, you won’t even judge him for anything, because if anything you’re 10,000 x more affectionate than he is.

All your crewmates will tease him for aaaages, even when he does get used to it. More than anything though, they’re all surprised he lets you do it in front of all the others.

In reality, Law knows he can’t stop you from showing your affection, and frankly he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Anytime you come running at him and give him a big hug or a kiss on the cheek he just gives the rest of your crewmates a glare (but that does NOT stop them from snickering).

The sun was setting into beautiful colours of pink and orange where you stood on top of the Polar Tang. Your captain had asked to get some fresh air, and for you to come with him. So there you stood, leaning against the railing next to Law. You glance to your right to see his hair lightly blowing in the wind, without the usual hat sitting on his head. He notices your glance and raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back at him.

“Was there anything in particular you wanted, Captain?” You ask him sweetly as you pick up a stray hair strand laying on his yellow shirt. His body stiffens slightly and he lets out a sigh.

“Y/N-yah… You’re gonna make me go crazy…” He mutters, barely audible. “I wanted to talk to you… about…” He lets out another sigh, this one heavier than the first one. “I wanted to talk to you about what you said yesterday.” He says and moves to corner you against the railing of the ship. You smile at him as you gently put your hands on the forearms on either side of you. You don’t notice it but his hands are gripping to the railing for dear life.

“Oh that? I meant every word I said, you know?” You respond, unashamed. Why would you be ashamed of your feelings after all? He’s Trafalgar Law. He has a mildly shocked expression on his face, and combined with his flushed cheeks he looks adorable. He should be used to this by now, you think, with how much you’ve flirted with him since you joined the crew it’s shocking he even reacts to it anymore.

“E-everything?” He asks and you hum and nod your head. Law looks down to his feet, his arms still surrounding you. “Y/N-yah, I’m… I’m not sure I deserve that…. I don’t think this is good for either of us… I’ll only get you hurt. Or worse.” He whispers. Your brows furry and you shake your head.

“Law. That’s nonsense and you know it. As if both of us aren’t constantly living in danger all day every day… You know damn well I don’t care about that. I love you. So much. And you deserve so much more than you get. I know that you have your… issues. But I need you to know that I’ll always be here for you regardless of that, okay? I don’t care if I’m only your friend, I’ll always be here to help you. I’ll always be by your side.” Law’s expression turns into one of awe, his eyes wide and mouth agape. His right hand moves from the railing to cup your cheek.

“Y/N… I… I don’t know what to say…” His sentence trails off and a blush creeps up on his face again. “You know my past, and you know I’ve been hurt. I struggle with my feelings, and you know this… But… If I get to be selfish I want to, uhm,” He looks away from your face, “I’d like to take you up on the offer you made last night…” He whispers and his hand falls back down to the railing.

The smile on your face turns to a grin as you take in what he’s said. “My offer? You mean when I told you I’d really like to show you my love? When I told you that you should trust the feelings of your heart and trust me? Because I still stand by that.” He groans as his face turns even redder. You shake your head and giggle at him before standing on your toes to give him a light kiss on the cheek. He turns to look at you again with wide eyes.

“Law. I already told you I love you, right? There’s no need to be ashamed.” You smile at him before leaning in to hug him and bury your face in his neck.

“God, you really are gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?” he whispers as he embraces you back and holds you tight against him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before burying his nose in your hair. “Thank you Y/N-yah. Thank you for understanding the words I can’t convey…”

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siribaes · 2 months

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ANGEL OF MINE (Sequel to Who’s Better Than Me?)

Rio x blackfem!reader (OC - Angel)

“After a plateau in their relationship, Rio sets out to make things right—”

PARING: Exes to Lovers / Past High School School Sweethearts

SUGGESTED TUNES 💿: We Need Resolution by Aaliyah, Best Thing by Usher, Take Away by Missy Elliott & Ginuwine, Think Of You by Amerie, Fallen by Mya, Ella Me Levanto by Daddy Yankee

CONTENTS: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, ANGST, Some fluff, professing of love, cursing, pinv, r*ugh s*x, cre*m p*e, or*l (fem receiving), Semi Redeemed Rio, Rio being a bedroom bully, with a dash of pettiness again lol, slight use of Spanish, a potential pregnancy, etc. (NOT PROOFREAD/UNEDITED)

AUTHORS NOTE: Genuinely I did not think about writing another part, but some ideas popped up in my head and so here we are lol! this part is kinda long but hope y’all enjoy regardless 💖 GIF CREDIT: by me :)

��How I'm supposed to be to you if you keep squirmin'? Be still,"

Angel couldn’t fully register Rio’s instructions over the pounding of her heart. She shivered, squirming in her spot on the bed. Rio lowered his head, placing small kisses on Angel’s stomach. The softness and warmth of his lips spurred her on even more, Angel began to pull away from Rio's touch.

“Don’t move,” Rio ordered, his large hands held her in place, one of them pressed down on Angel's stomach, "You gonna be good and listen, hm?"

“Yes! I’ll be g-good,” Angel whimpered.

Rio smiled down at her, keeping one hand on her stomach, while the other reached for his hardened shaft. He aligned himself with her dripping core, plunging the tip into her wetness, eliciting a soft moan from Angel. He repeated the movement a few times over slowly easing more of him into her. Angel’s whines grew more desperate with each shallow stroke.

With one last stroke, Rio bottomed out, fully, planting his hands firmly at Angel’s waist.

“Fuck, Angel. So fuckin’ tight,”

Angel’s hands snake up Rio’s back, pulling him towards her, as he began rocking into her.

“Angel,”

“Yes, baby?”

“Angel,”

“Hm?”

“Angel!”

With two snaps from her friend, Benny, Angel was pulled out of her reverie and back into reality.

“You good?” Benny asked as he waved his fork in the air.

“She’s fine,” Keke chuckled, “She’s just having a flashback, of Riooo,”

Angel rolled her eyes as she took a sip from her drink. She leaned back into her seat, looking at the passerbyers. It was a beautiful day, the sun shined brightly, casting down warm rays. After being stuck in the office in the all morning, the change in scenery was much needed.

“Have you talked to him?” Benny mused. He twirled pasta around his fork, before eating a large forkful.

“…No,” Angel sighed.

“Seriously?” Keke asked, eyes wide with shock. “I thought y’all hit it off, literally, after the reunion,”

“We did! And the sex was amazing, but—”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, y'all. So much time has passed, and he's changed so much since we were in high school, I feel like he's not the same boy I once knew,”

"I mean duh, Angel," Keke shrugged, "are any of us who we were 20 years ago?"

"She's right, Angel," Benny added, "None of us are the same as we were back then. It's impossible, babe. It sounds like you more scared of what he does not who is,"

Angel leaned back into her chair; arms folded across her chest. Maybe Benny was right. There was never a moment that passed in the day that she didn't want to be wrapped in Rio's arms. To just be with him. Yet, every time Angel wanted to reach out something stopped her. Everything was different about Rio and seeing him at the reunion was a bit jarring. From his clothes to the way he walked, even that damn eagle tattoo itched on his neck. The way he practically had all of their former classmates fawning over him, laughing at all of his jokes. There was a dangerous charm that Rio possessed. Sure, Angel was used to Rio's boy-ish charms after being on the receiving end of it, but this was something entirely different. It was potent, calculated, and completely irresistible. That was developed from experience, an experience that made Angel think twice.

"By all means, I'm not excusing Rio's, nefarious activities," Benny continued, "I just think you should at least talk to the man. The man, you've been in love with most of your life,"

"And from that glow you've been sporting," Keke added, she paused to a sip from her drink, slurping for dramatic affect. Benny and Angel chuckled, "I know that dick was good. So, take a chance! You'll never know what could happen between you too,"

Angel nodded. For the rest of the day, she pondered Benny and Keke's advice. She had to take a chance, she had to try.

----

It wasn't until 10 PM, when Angel pulled to her home. Arms chalked full of groceries, she wanted to stock up on food and other snacks for her much needed staycation. Angel trudged up the stairs, to her humble bungalow, she fumbled with the straps of the shopping bags and her work purse, trying grab her keys. She quickly opened the door, once inside she locked the door behind her and made a beeline for the kitchen.

Angel didn't bother to turn the light on in the kitchen. Her mind was preoccupied with putting the groceries away so she could take a shower and finally relax. So much that she didn't notice a smoldering, Rio leaned against the refrigerator. He watched her as she unloaded the groceries, not wanting to disturb her just yet. He wanted to admire the way her slacks hugged her curves, just a tad bit longer.

With a grocery bag in hand, Angel turned around, immediately meeting Rio's eyes. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

“Fuck!”

Angel quickly crouched down, grabbing the spilled groceries on the floor. Rio crossed the room in quick strides, bending down to help. A quietness fell over them as they loaded the items into the reusable bag.

“…What are you doing here? How did you get here? You know what don't answer that," Angel sputtered. She sat the bag on her breakfast table. She folded her arms over her chest, “No call, no text. I mean, what the hell Rio?”

His expression was indecipherable as Rio peered at her. His eyes continued to trace over her, as if he was trying to commit her features to memory, as if he really needed to for that matter. Rio tipped his head to the side and scratched the light stubble on his chin.

Angel mentally kicked herself, only Rio could look that dangerously good in minimal lighting. She averted her eyes, looking at the calendar tacked on her fridge, before looking back at Rio.

He shrugged. “I could say the same. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You avoidin’ me?”

Angel scoffed. “First off, I’m not avoiding you. Second, who breaks into someone’s home after not seeing for a couple of weeks—”

“—A month,”

“However, long it was. If you wanted to talk, this isn’t the way to go about it,”

Rio nodded slowly, poking his bottom lip in that ever so subtle way, as he mused over Angel’s words.

“If I called, would you have answered?”

Angel opened her mouth to respond but quickly closed it. Truth was, if Rio did call, she wouldn’t have picked up. Not because Angel didn’t want to, it was complicated. The night that they shared was magical, more amazing than anything Angel could ever dream of, but when the sun rose the next morning and reality set in. They were too different, Angel lived a normal life, she loved her job, her friends, her family, even the “Tinkerbell” car she drove. Her life was routine, with a few moments of spontaneity (hooking up with Rio was one of them). Rio’s life she assumed, was nothing but spontaneity, having to always keep one eye open, always looking over one’s shoulder. Adding Rio into the equation was too much. It was easier when they were younger, it was simpler time. Their love came with no extra baggage, it was pure.

Now, things are much different, Rio was different. He’s a crime boss for pete’s sake, and Angel knew that he didn’t want the same things, as she did. Last time she checked, living the life of a criminal didn’t allow for marriage and kids, not in the way Angel wanted anyway.

“Rio,” Angel began, the dropped her arms, and twiddled with her fingers, “you…we, we are just different,”

A deep sigh escaped Rio. When Angel finally met Rio’s gaze she could see the cracks in his resolve. His jaw was tight, and usual brown eyes carried a hardness in them. Rio ran a hand across her features, rolling his shoulders while doing so.

“You breakin’ my heart, Angelita,” Rio took a few steps forward, now standing only a few away from Angel. He easily towered over her small frame, “what’s so different about me?”

“Y-you’ve changed, I’ve changed,”

“So?”

“So?! This is serious, Rio, are lives are completely different, you don’t want the same things as me,”

“Bullshit. I need real, Angel. Why are you pullin’ away from me?”

“You’re a fucking criminal, Rio!”

A huge wave of embarrassment and guilt washed over her, she quickly buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t bear to look at Rio after saying what she said. How could she react like that? Regardless of her aversion to what Rio does, he deserved more respect than the outburst she just had. This was the man she’s been in love with since she fifteen, he deserved better.

Angel felt Rio gently wrap his hands around hers, and pulled them away from her face. He then tilted Angel’s upwards to meet his gaze. Rio searched her eyes, seeing the guilt in them he softened.

“You scared of me, Angel?”

Angel froze. Her mind traveling back to the night they spent together, and the glimpse gun she saw as she left his place. Her mind drummed up all of the scenarios that could happen, flashes of him in an orange jumpsuit behind bars, and his name across the headstone in the graveyard. A future that she never wanted to see, but in a way already happened. A little into Angel's first semester of college, word got out Rio was going to prison, it broke her. She couldn't bear to see him like that or worse, 6 feet under.

So, to answer his question was she scared of Rio, no. Was she scared of what could happen to Rio, absolutely, Angel loved him too much just to be okay with could happen to him. Or what he could do to others.

"Hey, hey," Rio spoke, pulling her focus back to him, "there you go wonderin' again. Tell me, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Angel sighed. “...I don’t like what you do,”

Rio dropped his hand away from Angel's chin. He nodded slowly, processing. A quietness fell over them, as they stared wordlessly at one another. Rio's eyes slowly trailed down towards Angel's chest. She felt the breath hitch in her throat, when he reached towards her. Gently, he lifted the necklace she wore. Rio held the angel pendant between his fingers, the pad of his thumb softly tracing over the figure's wings.

"You kept it," Rio spoke, his eyes combing over the figure with Angel could only interpret as fondness. Her heart fluttered. "You know, I put in mad work tryna get this. Cutting grass, washing cars, all that shit. I wanted you to feel good. I wanted you to know I loved you,"

"Rio..."

"Por siempre y para siempre, forever and always. That's what's engraved on the wings. Angel, you're my forever, you're my always. It's only been you,"

Angel felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. This is the most vulnerable she's seen Rio, ever. To hear him speak with such sincerity and conviction, Angel couldn't help her heart swell with love.

"My business is my business, and I can't change what I did and all the choices I've made. But being with you made me realize, mama that shit has an expiration date," Rio brought his hands to Angel's face, and cradled her soft cheeks, "I can't promise that I'll magically become a better man over night, but I want to try, for you will. 'Cause I don't wanna loose you mama, not again,"

Without a second thought Angel leans forward and kisses Rio. Their kiss was sweet, tongues moving in tandem as Angel snaked her arms around Rio, pulling him closer to her. Her fingers caress the top of Rio's head, soft touches rubbing at his scalp. Rio lets out a throaty groan, its vibrations straight to Angel's core. A flush of heat rushes through her entire body. She breaks the kiss.

"I wanna try, Christopher," Angel whispers. She nuzzles Rio's nose. He pulls away slightly, to see her face fully. A smile blooms across his face. He kisses her again.

"Yeah?" Rio's smile grows wider seeing the sincerity in Angel's face.

"Yes, baby," Angel nods, biting her lip.

A flicker of lust danced in Rio eyes. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, while his hands drifted towards Angel's bottom. Rio's large hands squeezed and palmed her ass. He landed a firm smack on her ass.

"Rio!"

He chuckled. "Go upstairs, and get on the bed, how I like," Rio mumbled against her cheek, before placing a soft kiss there.

Angel didn't waste any time, she raced upstairs to her bedroom, completely forgetting about her groceries in the kitchen. She kicked off her heels, stripping off her slacks and dress shirt. Angel sat on her bed, legs spread out for him, in only her bra and panties. Coincidently, in his favorite color, green.

Minutes seemed to drawl into hours as Angel waited. Her heart rattled against her chest, as Angel's mind raced at the possibilities of what Rio was going to do to her. Another a minute or so passed when Angel heard Rio's footsteps coming up the stairs.

He appeared in doorway with two bottles of water in hand. He smoothly entered the room, eyes glued to Angel, he settled on a spot in front of Angel's vanity. Rio sat one of the water bottles down on the table, while he opened the other, taking a quick sip. His were so heated, so blazed as they roamed Angel's body. It felt like invisible hands were rubbing and caressing her all over.

"You look good, mama. All spread out for me. Shit, lingerie in my favorite color too..."

"All for you, baby," Angel cooed.

Rio's lips tipped into small smile. He took another swig of water. He sat the bottle down, putting the cap back on.

"I'm not gonna lie, you hurt my feelings, when you went ghost on me..."

"Rio, baby, I'm sorry–"

"Sshhh," Rio hushed Angel with a finger to his lips, "All is forgiven, but you got make it up to me. You gonna make it up to me, darlin'?"

Angel nodded.

"Play with that pussy for me."

Angel slowly peeled out of her panties, making a show out of it, she made sure that Rio got a view of her ass. She flung them to the side, returning her previous position. Widening her legs, Angel's fingers found themselves at her core, swiping at the wetness, she began to rub taut circles on her clit.

"Fuck!" Angel whined.

"Damn..." Rio voice trailed, eyes zeroing in Angel's core. He hummed in satisfaction as fingers began to unbutton his flannel. "You, look so fuckin' good. You close?"

"Yesssss, I'm so close! I need you soooo bad," Angel moaned as her fingers continued to rub tight circles on her clit.

"I got you, just keep going. I wanna see my pretty girl cum for me,"

Angel felt the familiar knot in her belly as her orgasm began to build. Her wetness pooled out of her the more her fingers worked her core. She felt her pussy flutter when Rio peeled out his t-shirt, revealing his svelte frame covered in intricate tattoos. Seeing his rich skin practically covered ink, tipped her over the edge.

"Ooooh, shit, I'm cummin',"

"Mhm, let it out for me, mama," Rio egged her on.

Angel shook as her orgasm coursed through her, wetting up her sheets. She laid down on the bed, closing her eyes as she rode out the aftershocks, her skin tingling with pleasure. Quick taps on her thighs, brought her back, she opened her eyes to Rio looming over her.

"On all fours, darlin',"

Angel obliged. She turned and faced her faced her headboard. She adjusted herself, making sure her the arch in her back was damn near perfect. Rio's belt and zipper clinked and clanked as he undressed himself. His hands palmed her ass, the callused pads of his fingers felt good against her skin. Angel mewled loudly, when she felt Rio's soft tongue lick down her slit.

"Christopher!"

"You taste good. Sweet as fuck," Rio groaned. "You ready for me?"

"Yes, baby. Please don't play with it," Angel turned her head to look at him, biting down her lip. She gazed into his stormy eyes, clouded thick with lust. With one hand, Rio's fingers trailed down Angel's spine, pausing for second. Then landed another firm smack on her Angel's ass. "Baby! Be nice,"

"Nah," Rio stated firmly, he deepened Angel's arch. He adjusted himself, inching his dick closer to Angel's entrance, "You still got some makin' up to do,"

With no warning, Rio plunged into Angel, bottoming out completely. Angel's toes curled, at his fullness and the stretch that only he could give her. He circled himself inside her, pulling himself out, then plunging back in. Rio tightened the grip on Angel's hips as began to rock into her. She gushed and clenched around his member, nails clawing at the sheets below them.

"Goddamn," Rio hissed, "I feel you tightin' around me. You close already?"

"Oh my god! Yes, you fuckin' me so good,"

"Yeaaaah, that's right me, only me. Nobody else, right mama?"

"N-nobody else, baby, shit! I love you so much, Christopher,"

Angel felt Rio's hips stutter at her confession. It only served as more motivation for Rio, spurring him on, he pistoned into Angel faster and harder. He reached downwards, grabbing a handful of her coils, yanking her upwards.

"Say it again," He rasped in her ear.

"I-I-I love you, shit,"

"Again,"

"I love you, I love you, I love you, Rio I'm cumming," Angel cried out.

Rio held Angel close, fucking her through her orgasm. Angel shuddered, as she felt her essence drip down her thighs, as Rio continued to thrust into her wildly, kissing and nibbling at her ear lobe. He slowed rhythm of his hips, letting Angel's hair go, placing small kisses down her neck and shoulders.

"You did so good for me," Rio breathed out. He softly patted at Angel's plush thighs, as he slowly pulled out. "Face me,"

Angel shifted around, laying on her back she spread her legs wide. Rio situated himself between Angel's legs. He stroked himself a few times, biting his lip at the small squelching noises he made. In one swift motion, Rio plunged himself back in, fully engulfing himself in Angel's wet pussy.

"Fuckkkkkk," Rio growled. Angel whined in response. At this angle, Rio was hitting her spongy spot way deeper than before, causing waves of pleasure to flood her entire body. "Pussy so fuckin', shit, nena,"

Both her heart and her pussy fluttered, seeing the blissed out look on his gorgeous features. Rio was always so controlled and reserved most of them, so to see him like this, guttural, borderline animalistic, Angel loved it. She began to feel him throb inside of her, he was close.

"Mhmm, I feel you, baby. I want you to cum inside me," Angel cooed as she cradled the back of Rio neck.

"Yeah? You want me cummin', inside you. Careful, now. I might fuck around and give you a baby forreal,"

Angel cupped Rio's face, kissing him deeply. She pulled away, nodding her head in a wordless confirmation. Rio's eyes softened, at the realization. He bucked his hips, in deep, desperate strokes.

"Shit! Angelita, you gonna look so good, belly fully, with our baby, fuck. I love you, Angel," He grunted, as his resolve was wearing down by the second. The midst of his brutal thrust, Angel felt another orgasm hurdle towards the surface. Her walls spasmed around Rio's dick, screaming out as she came. "Just like that, fuck, eres mio, todo mio, baby, shit,"

A few strokes were all it took to send Rio over the edge. He buried himself in Angel's neck as his blasted his cum inside of her. Rio groans were muffled against Angel's skin. He held her closed as he shook from the pleasure, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum inside of her. Angel wrapped her legs around him, she didn't want to miss a single drop.

A calmness fell over them, as the breathed in tandem, hearts following the same rhythm. Rio lifted his head up, resting his chin on Angel's chest. Warms hands rubbed soft circles against her skin. He gazed at her, nothing but love and stardust in them.

"You're gonna be a good mom," He mumbled.

Angel smiled softly, she rubbed at his shoulders. "And you're gonna be a good dad. I love you, Christopher,"

"I love you too, mama. Por siempre y para siempre."

#siribaesfics #rio x reader #rio x blackfem!reader #rio x blackcurvy!reader #rio x black!reader #black fanfiction #poc fanfiction #rio smut #rio good girls fanfiction

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pawified · 3 months

Note

Hi I was just wondering if I could request headcannons for father figure bf!Suguru? Thank you so much I love your writing🩷🩷

hi so sorry for responding late . . . i hope you are well ! but ofc i cane give u littl headcannons some of based off of things i think he does ( ovbi ) and some are what i interpreted from da show & manga !

its supa short bc im swleepy bc its 3:30 am exactly nd i haven’t taken a nap at all.

( side note : i miss my puppy girl agenda so dis will b da first thing of my return to be fulfilled of puppy girl )

. father figure!bf suguru who wraps you in his arms when you are feeling uneasy with anxiety.

. father figure!bf suguru who buys you milk bread everyday at your favorite bakery on his way to pick you up from whatever college after activity you have going on for that week.

. father figure!bf suguru is very attentive, the first thing he noticed about you when you two first met is that you walk with a littl bounce

. father figure!bf suguru doesn’t care or particularly mind that you cling to him like a needy puppy begging for attention. he finds it cute how you rely on him for anything.

. father figure!bf suguru who hates the word “goodbye.” he always corrects you when you’re stepping out the car to head into your morning class. “hey. wait, what do we say?” he cocks his head to the side, you try arguing that you’ll be late, but he doesn’t let up. you sigh in defeat and mumble out a quick “ see you later, i love you. “ quickly slamming the door, you rush to your class before you could hear his response “i love you too. you look beautiful”

. father figure!bf suguru who gives you you a baby pink collar engraved with “ if found return to geto suguru “ on one of the sliver tags dangling from the key ring.

. father figure!bf suguru who starts calling you pup more often. he’s well aware that you love the petname he has adopted into his vocabulary. — he likes it also.

. father figure!bf suguru is never mean to you;not intentionally you think? but when he is, it make your brain a bit hazy.

. father figure!bf suguru doesn’t like brats or liars which you happen to be both. of course you never tell major lies at least that’s what you think but your partner would disagree. — you told a small white lie about how you had no clue how a big wine stain got on the couch and suggested that his friends did it. geto knew who had done it, but you don’t know that he is aware of it. he just want you to confess.

. father figure!bf suguru punishments hurt; alot. you aren’t use to the heavier ones, only a few taps on your bottom to bounce you back from being disruptive but they’re never like this. — ass cheeks are warm accompanied by a slight tint of red due to the pressure of his big palms, you can feel the welts starting to form. “restart over. you stop again, i will leave you here with a vibrator tied to your leg, do i make myself clear?” his voice is rough and firm. “y-yes sorry. m-sorry”

. father figure!bf suguru the after care is what makes you fall in love with him all over again. — after his corrective actions, you and him are embraced into each other for awhile, as he draws circles on your back while rocking you back and forth to bring you back down. “my sweet girl, you did so good. always know how to take your punishment well.” he coos, you look at him with big doe eyes, suguru thinks for a moment; you are a real puppy who has reincarnated into a 20 year old girls body.

. father figure!bf suguru regardless of his mistakes in the past before you became his light at the end of a dark tunnel, he make a secret promise to whatever god existed that he would do whatever it takes to heal from his past in order to keep you around for the rest of his life.

#˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆#𝑝𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑠 ‎໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ #! ! 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑥 — ꒰ঌ ໒꒱#𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑜 — ♡ ᵎ #father figure ! series #puppy!reader #father figure bf ! suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru headcanons #m’ startin tew fall in love wif him #geto x you

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pepsiconcoction · 11 months

Text

Discounted Cookies | Han Jisung x Reader

pairing: barista!han jisung x gn!reaer

tags: coffee shop au, a little bit of angst, minor language, jisung is a lil flirt, reader doesn't wanna put up with it, fluff, no smut

requested? yes! by anon xox

an: i actually don't know how i feel about this, but it's cute regardless, anon i hope i captured what u meant, i tried my best to get reader to be Annoyed but i love jisung too much, sorry ;-;

wc: 3,890

4 times Jisung flirted with you + 1 time you flirted with him.

The first time you see him.

It’s a few minutes past midnight and you think this might be your end. You’re going to pass out, for sure. You had been studying at the library for the past 7 hours straight for an exam worth 60% of your grade. Studying Law was definitely a choice. Specifically, it was the choice you made two and a half years ago, resulting in you, at this moment, halfway through your third year and on the brink of a breakdown. The breakdown? Partially caused by your ex-boyfriend, who had just broken up with you no more than five days ago. You’re fine. People keep asking. You really wish they would stop.

In the distance, you spot a flood of warm, yellow light flooding out of a shop window. As you get closer, you recognise it’s a coffee shop, you think it may even be the one your friend had told you about, saying it was her favourite place to study as it’s open 24 hours. It seems tonight is the night you’re finally going to check it out.

It’s kind of snowy at your feet, thanks to the early month of the year, but you wish it was more picturesque and not just the grey slush that you think you can feel leaking through your boots. At least it’ll be nice to get some warmth for a few minutes.

You push open the door, a small bell jingling above your head, and the warmth hits you like a wall, suffocating in its intensity. There’s only one other person in here: an old trucker-looking guy, face held over a steaming cup of coffee.

“I’ll be out in a second!” You hear a man shout from behind the counter, you guess he’s even further in the back than you can see. You hear a small commotion that sounds a bit like someone stamping on a cardboard box. A few seconds later, a guy appears, slightly dishevelled and running his hands through his hair as he exhales. His hair parts in the middle and brushes his eyebrows, slightly longer around the edges, as if gone uncut for a few months. A friendly face with round cheeks looks at you, a grin appearing on his face. He brushes down his apron and makes his way to the counter.

“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?” he asks.

“Just an Americano to go, please,” You smile back at him.

“Can I offer you any discounted sweet treats?” He gestures to an almost empty cake counter. “They’re discounted because it’s so late, not because they’re bad.” He quickly adds on. You spot a singular chocolate cookie looking very lonely.

“Sure, I’ll take the cookie,” you say, gesturing to it.

“Good choice, madam.” He nods his head, punching it into the register.

“Can I take a name?”

“Do you need it?” You ask, looking around at the empty store.

“Not really, but I’d like it.” He shrugs.

“Y/n,” you sigh. This isn’t what you were looking for at the moment, but you decide to just let it go.

“Not having a good day?” he asks, seemingly concerned.

“Not having a good week,” you say flatly, hoping to communicate your disinterest.

“Well, Y/n, feel free to take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you once it’s done.” He grins again and spins around, getting to work on the coffee machine. God, who even has this much energy this late at night? Crazy people, that’s who.

You sit down at one of the tables, taking out your phone and it reads 12:17am. It feels like it’s mocking you. You scroll through your socials, attempting to keep what small semblance of a social life you think you have together, but a few minutes later, a familiar barista comes into your view. You stand up, accepting the coffee from him and he hands you the cookie which is now in a brown, paper bag.

“One Americano, and one discounted cookie.” He hands you each and you stand up, thanking him.

“And maybe a little extra something, since you’re having a bad week and all,” he adds quietly, shuffling on his feet slightly. You peek inside the bag and notice a candy bar, something chocolatey.

“Thank you,” You stutter, not expecting the kind gesture.

“Come back again soon!” He says, already heading back to the counter where he starts to mess with something, in a clear attempt to look busy. You turn and

leave. Despite the cold air outside, there is an unfamiliar warmth in your body.

The second time you see him.

You wake up the next day, surprisingly on time despite the lack of alarm. It’s only 10am and you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead of you. The exam is in 5 days. Thankfully you’re studying at home today, not needing the library for today’s subjects. The state of your flat reflects your mind, it’s a mess, dishes in the sink, clothes piling up next to the dryer. After an hour or so of quick chores, it’s in a slightly better state, good enough to study in, you think.

And study, you do. Day turns to night and you find yourself closing the last page of a textbook, letting out a deep breath. You could feel your anxiety beginning to fizzle around your body, not fully convinced you’ve properly ingested all the revision you’ve done. You need some food. The second half of a pizza is sitting untouched from earlier and you kinda feel bad for it, poor thing. Your eyes flicker towards the candy bar sitting on your desk, where it was abandoned last night and you think about the guy from the coffee shop. You throw on a slightly warmer outfit and you definitely don’t spend the walk to the coffee shop thinking about whether he might be working. To your surprise, he is.

You can see him behind the counter from outside, he’s pouring frothed milk into a cup, presumably for the customer standing at the counter. It’s slightly busier at this time, you’re not surprised considering it’s only just coming up to 8pm. You push open the door and the bell jingles like it did the night before. He looks up, looking past the customer in front and his mouth quirks up into a smile, recognising you instantly. You look around him, at the large menu boards, you don’t want to give him an ego.

The customer in front pays for their drink and leaves, and the man’s smile finally points directly at you.

“Hello again, Y/n, what can I get you today?” He grins at you, eyes crinkling. You’re surprised he remembers your name.

“A latte, please,” you say, glancing up at the menu.

“To go, or sit in?” His eyebrow quirks.

“Oh, uh-”

“You’re sitting in,” he answers for you, already punching it into the register.

“Fine.” Your roll your eyes.

“Take a seat.” He gestures to the barstool-type seating a little further down the counter. You’re not really sure why you actually sit down.

“Is your week any better?” He looks over his shoulder as he makes your drink.

“Not really, no.” You respond. He pauses in his actions, looking at you expectingly.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up?”

“We don’t know each other,” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, so my name is Jisung, Han Jisung, and today, I’m your barista. Tomorrow, maybe more!” He winks as he turns back to the machine which is spewing out your drink.

“Well, Han Jisung, if you must know, I’m stressed the fuck out for my exam next Monday, I’ve got a practical in two days, and my boyfriend broke up with me a few days ago because I was too much for him. He was just a pathetic, weak little man, I really don’t know how I lasted that long with him.” You found yourself ranting, releasing some of the pent-up frustration you’ve been feeling for the past few days.

“Well,” Jisung starts. “that’s very fair.” He goes quiet for the remainder of the time he is making the drink, leaving a slightly awkward air around you. You focus your eyes on the counter in front of you in an attempt to ignore the stress coming back to you. All of a sudden a drink is slid across the counter.

“Is that a… squirrel?” You look from the cute latte art to the man standing across the counter from you. He looks sheepishly up at you.

“Yeah, looks like me, doesn’t it?” His grin is back, and you can feel a smile creeping onto your face.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Your eyes linger on his for a few moments, until a group of people enter the small cafe and his attention is brought away from you. You discreetly watch him as he works, greeting the customers with a big smile, and using his charisma to get an extra cake sale. You think maybe you fell for the same charisma yesterday, but you don’t really mind because the cookie was pretty good. A few minutes pass, and you sip on your drink, trying to keep the art as intact as possible. Once the last customer had been served he side steps back towards you.

“How is it? Has it fixed your week yet?” He raises his eyebrows, smirking slightly.

“I’m not sure a drink can fix my week,” you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“Nonsense! Of course, it can. Take a sip.” he gestures to you to lift the mug to your lips. You reluctantly take a sip.

“See? It’s working, no?” he chuckles. You put the cup down and try your best not to laugh.

“There’s that pretty smile!” he grins, earning a roll of your eyes. Your phone buzzes with an incoming email from your university, it’s just a random send-to-all type of email but it does remind you of your looming academic responsibilities.

“Thank you, for the squirrel,” you tell him while standing up from the stool.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, round eyes looking suddenly lost.

“I’ve got work to do, I’ll see you around.”

“You better.” His grin is wide as he watches you leave, hoping you do come back soon.

The third time you see him.

“We crushed it!” You celebrate with your best friend, the two of you have just partaken in a mock legal trial as part of an assessment. Your Professor had wanted to challenge the class, setting up fake suspects and witnesses, and had even arranged for a court stenographer to be present. Your group had won the case, despite the opposing team putting up a pretty tough fight.

“Did you see the look on the judged face when you caught out the lying witness? I was trying so hard not to say something.” Your friend gushes, talking faster than you could keep up with.

“I know!” You laugh but break into a yawn as the previous nights studying catches up with you once the excitement is over.

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Absolutely.”

You’re so engrossed in the conversation as the two of you walk that you don’t even realise you’ve made it all the way to the familiar coffee shop. You stop in your tracks a few feet from the door.

“Not here,” you groan.

“Why not? This place does the best coffee on campus.” She looks confused as she turns back to you.

“I always see the same barista, and he always hits on me, I just can’t be bothered today.” You whine a little, trying to convince her.

“Well, is he working right now?”

You take a step further, enough to look through the window and see the counter. There is a man, but it’s not Jisung.

“I don’t see him.” You trail off, scanning the rest of the shop as much as you can see.

“Alright then, we’re getting coffee here.” Your friend grabs you by the hand and practically pulls you into the small cafe. There is a surprising queue, so you continue to just make conversation with her until you’re next at the counter. The barista who serves you has curly, black hair and biceps that honestly look like they’re about to burst his sleeves. He greets both of you with a smile and begins to punch your orders into the register.

“Changbin! Catch!” You hear a familiar voice. Your heart sinks to your ass. The barista serving you, Changbin, turns back and looks towards the door into the back. Peeking around the cake stand, you catch a glimpse of Jisung. He’s hanging onto the door with a container of what looks like soya milk. He throws it, and Changbin catches it.

“Sorry about that, our delivery was late this morning and only just arrived, so it’s a bit crazy right now,” Changbin explains, replacing an empty soya milk container.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” You shrug. He finishes taking your order and the two of you move to the side to wait.

“He’s kind of fit,” your friend leans into you to say, once you’re both out of earshot.

“In more ways than one.” you giggle.

Your attention is quickly averted towards the door to the backroom, particularly to Jisung who is rushing out of it and towards the counter, tying his apron at the same time.

“Sorry Bin, it’s a nightmare back there.” He says, getting to work on coffee orders.

“No worries, we’re not too busy anymore, the rush seems to be over.” You realise that you and your friend were the last in the queue and the cafe has died down a little since you first entered. Jisung also takes a quick glance around, and that’s when he spots you.

“Y/n,” he says. “Back to see me so soon?” His lips turn up into a small smirk.

“You wish.” You roll your eyes. He just laughs and turns back to the coffee machine. You look at your friend and give her a look, the look you get in return translates to 'message received'.

“He’s kinda cute,” she whispers to you, thankfully you were far away enough for her not to be heard. You sighed. He is kind of cute but that’s not what you’re looking for right now. You’re in a weird enough head space as it is with all the stress of law school and the breakup, not even two weeks ago! You can’t seriously be thinking about dating so soon. Right…?

You’re ripped from your thoughts by the very same man that caused them.

“A white hot chocolate?” Jisung announces to the two of you, but he’s looking at you.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You step up to the counter and begin to take it.

“You’re looking very fancy today, big plans?” he asks, smiling.

“I had a mock trial this morning.” You say and he looks at you with wide eyes, kind of like a deer in headlights.

“You know, like a court trial?” you ask.

“Law! That’s what you’re studying.” He finally realises.

“I didn’t say?” You’re now the one who’s confused.

“No, you never, I’ve been trying to figure it out, trying to guess.” he laughs. Changbin appears next to him and slides an espresso onto the counter, your friend stepping over to take it.

“Bin, they’re a lawyer! Isn’t that cool?” Jisung gushes a little, looking back at you with big eyes.

“They won their trial this morning.” Your friend interrupts before you can say anything. You shoot her a look.

“Really?” The big, sparkling doe eyes are back as he leans against the counter.

“I, uh, yeah,” you stutter a little.

“Wow, that’s so cool.”

“Sung, I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt with our customers.” Changbin walks back towards the coffee machine and he begins prepping another order.

“You don’t pay me at all, you’re not even a manager!” Jisung starts whining as he stands up properly. He turns back to you.

“Enjoy your drinks!” He says. You take this as your queue to leave and make a beeline out of the coffee shop, drink in hand. Your friend follows behind you, honestly a little confused.

Once you’re a safe distance from the shop, you finally feel able to breathe again.

The fourth time you see him.

Beep… beep… beep…

Your alarm. You reach over and turn it off, groaning as you roll back over, the feeling of dread already seeping into your bones. It’s the morning of the exam. The exam you’ve been dreading. The exam that is responsible for 60% of your grade. You groan again.

You feel heavy as you walk around your flat, attempting to get ready for the day ahead of you. It doesn’t help that you broke the fundamental exam rule of getting a good night’s sleep, tossing and turning until eventually passing out. So many textbooks have been haunting your thoughts that you barely noticed you’ve also been thinking about something else. Or rather someone else.

You can’t stop, he keeps popping up in your mind. His round face, and big smile. You feel yourself smiling just thinking about it. But fuck, it feels wrong. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. You don’t have time! You have a big exam, which conveniently starts in just over an hour.

You need a coffee.

You get to the familiar coffee shop at 11:31am. Your exam starts at noon. It takes 20 minutes to walk to the campus building it’s being held at. You probably don’t have time for this.

You see him. He’s behind the counter. You think your head hurts.

“Hey,” he greets you with that smile again. You feel sick. “What can I getcha?”

“Just a black coffee, to go.” Your voice croaks a little from its lack of use.

“You’re not staying with me?” He smirks, punching it into the register.

“No.”

You see him falter a little at your cold tone. His eyebrows quirk down a little.

“Are you alright?” he asks as you swipe your phone to pay.

“Stop it, Jisung. Can’t you just leave me alone today, God,” you say exasperated, and step away from the counter. You try to ignore the hurt look in his eye and you really try to ignore the way he shrunk in on himself. A different member of staff you’ve never seen before hands you the drink and you leave the coffee shop without looking back at him.

The exam goes terribly. At least it feels like it goes terribly. Your head is a mess, the guilt chewing at you the entire time. You do your best, writing everything you recall but by the end of it you have a decent headache and the pit in your gut has grown. You leave the exam and go home, collapsing in your bed and you fall asleep telling yourself you’ll feel better when you wake up.

The fifth time you see him.

You wake up in the afternoon the next day.

You don’t feel much better. Not after binging on a pizza and your favourite chocolate. Not after watching that movie that makes you cry every time. Not even after you’ve journaled about it. You think that particular journal entry is mostly scrambled nonsense. It probably is.

You decide to go for a walk to clear your head. Maybe the cold, winter air will freshen you up, and make you feel a bit better. With a big coat and a warm scarf wrapped around you, you walk into the evening air, it’s already past 11pm so you mostly see young people out drinking despite the weather. You have no destination but of course, you end up there.

The warm, yellow-toned light pours from the window as usual. The bell above the door is jarring to your fragile little heart.

He’s there.

He has his back to you, cleaning some sort of container in the sink.

“Two seconds!” he sing-songs. You don’t respond. A few seconds later he’s done and spins around to you. His eyes widen a little and then drop.

“Hi.” He steps towards the register.

“Hi,” you respond.

“Would you like something to drink?” his tone is passive, despite his words being polite.

“A hot chocolate, please, to sit in.” You try to smile at him, he focuses on the register. He nudges the card reader towards you as he steps away to get started on your drink. You move towards the bar-stool seating you sat on previously.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. He looks back to you.

“Go ahead,” he glances back at you. You take a seat and look around, and you realise for the first time that you’re the only person in here, apart from Jisung. You look back towards him just as he put the cup down in front of you.

“Thank you,” you smile again, he gives you a small one but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns away and starts fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Jisung, can I talk to you?” you ask.

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.” He says without turning around.

“Please.”

That gets him to turn around at least, even if he is still looking at anything but you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. I was just a mess, and that’s not an excuse but I need you to know I didn’t mean it,” you trail off, picking up your drink and taking a sip, appreciating its sweetness.

“And to be honest, I kind of miss the flirty Jisung. I was beginning to like him.” You take another sip of your hot chocolate, smirking to yourself when you see his head shoot up toward you.

“You do?” His eyes soften a little when you nod.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. But it’s okay. To be honest, I probably was coming on weirdly strong, huh?” He scratches the back of his neck while you chuckle.

There is a moment of silence as you look down at your hot chocolate. Until a thought sparks in your head.

“Why do you flirt with me?”

“What?” His eyes widen and the poor guy looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

“Why do you flirt with me? Or do you just flirt with anyone?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No! I don’t, it’s really just you, and I don’t know why, I just kinda… liked you? I mean, you seemed cool and nice and definitely my type.” He catches himself rambling.

“I’m your type?” You ask, smirking.

“Well, yeah.” he chuckles. You laugh too.

“Han Jisung, I think we should go on a date.” You say, definitively.

“Really?!” He stands up from where he was leaning against the back counter and crosses towards you.

“Actually, never mind.” You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“Do not play with my heart like this, I’m sensitive!” he clutches at his chest dramatically, making you laugh louder.

“Fine, but I get to pick where we’re going.”

“Deal! Just tell me a time and I’ll be there.” His grin tells you that he will live up to that. You fall into another silence as you hold each other’s gaze, just smiling.

“Hey, Y/n, you want a discounted cookie?”

“I’d love one.”

taglist - @lethallyprotected

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #han jisung #jisung #skz fluff #skz smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung smut #han jisung imagines #skz drabbles #skz fanfic #stray kids hard thoughts

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jhuzen · 10 months

Note

Hi! I'm here to request a Blade x m.reader(fluff, with a bit of angst). Since you said you're open👀.

I've got an idea. Blade gives like the old black cat energy vibes, and maybe what if he got clingyyyyyy, like so clingy, to the point even he is surprised. That's understandable for some point, cause he's got little to no attention in his past years, after he forgot everything(poor little Bladie)

But who am I to deny Bladie's attention, right? Haha. I really like how u do a bit of headcanons first and then a little fic in the end.

(Can i be anon K, hehe?🤪)

feline care [m.reader]

can you tell how much i love this man? ty ty nonnie K, lysm for this wonderful bladie request,,, jUST A FEW MORE WEEKS, WE CAN DO THIS TOGETHER, MKAY? hang in there <3

𖦹 blade being a cat-aligned man, subtle clinginess and yet no one calls him out for it, mentions of his past (i’ll try not to spoil too much), a tiny pinch of angst, and a spoonful of fluff, bittersweet on some parts (only because i mentioned the word bittersweet lmao)

It’s agreed upon everyone who has known you and Blade that… Blade is a cat more than a man, and you are a scratching post more than his lover.

Not that you’re always covered in scratches (though you have left your shared room in that state on some occasions). It’s more of the premise that he’s almost always latched onto you. It was odd for the others. Even Silver Wolf looks up from her game, baffled to see that when you’re briefing the mission from Elio, somewhere beside you, Blade has his hand on your hip. Kafka sometimes gets interrupted in her gossips with you when Blade sits down without warning beside you. She doesn’t mind from then on. Sam and Elio share the same experiences too.

He just… intervenes silently. Like a cat suddenly demanding your attention while you’re busy and he does it wordlessly and for some reason, no one questions him about it. In the middle of conversations, in the middle of meals, if you’re with someone, Blade does not care and will slide in beside you.

Blade has this primal need to just be beside you, to have a part of him touching you. His shoulder against yours, his hand on your back, heck, even a strand of his hair on yours, it’s more than enough.

No one points it out to him, but he’s the one who slowly came to the realization that he’s being… a little too touchy, a little too clingy than what was normally expected from him. Of course he has his own self-awareness, but it’s just that he’s so drowned and enticed with your presence, it takes him awhile to realize that sort of thing.

He’s a recluse, and often kept to himself. He only follows his comrades and will protect them if necessary, you included. But ever since you’ve propositioned a life of partnership with him — not just any partnership, it’s one that comes with your unbridled love and adoration for him, suddenly he’s reaching out some more to you, sticking some more beside you, needing even just a measly lick of attention from you.

Blade appreciates how you let him do as he wishes. You acknowledge him but not so much that it makes him feel standoffish towards you. It reassures him that he isn’t overstepping. (Though really, you’d love to tease him about it, you know it’ll quickly scare him away and you’ll be deprived of feeling his touches for awhile. It has happened once and you won’t let it happen again).

But it’s his touches that show just how much appreciation he has for the love that you can give him. You love him regardless of his past and how he came to be. And it just… shows how much undying devotion he has for you.

He’s a cat alright, it took you a long time to gain his trust, much less have him speak to you when he was officially onboard with you and the rest of the Stellaron Hunters. But the payoff is so satisfying with how he returns every effort you’ve exerted to get close to him. Now that you did your job, it was his turn to keep you close to him. You did it, and now he wants to be yours without a single question from anyone out there.

However there are bouts of isolation that keeps you from seeing him. It’s those times when he mulls over the things he went through. From Jingliu’s torment, to the betrayal of his fellow comrades to him. And instead of seeking you, he becomes this ball of contempt that slowly consumes him from the inside out. He doesn’t want to be near you even if he wanted to because he’s not so hot on the idea of always associating you in his time of need. He has this sense of duty that when he presents himself to you, that when he willingly hovers around you, he’s in his best, ready to protect you if needed.

And that’s where you normally work your magic.

“Dearest~” Kafka coos from behind you, and with her was Silver Wolf, playing on her games.

Currently, the ship is embarked on a random planet, just a little stopover before continuing on your journeys to hunt Stellarons and aid Elio in his… incredible fascination in being the slave of destiny. And right about now, you were in charge with looking over the next world you and your little crew of misfits are about to pay a little visit to, (perhaps also terrorize).

You grunted in acknowledge from your spot, eyes never leaving the holograms that wafted around your entire space. It was hard work, alright. Sometimes you wonder if Elio is a bitter single that refuses you to even spend some time with your beloved just for a short while.

“Seen Bladie around? Silver Wolf and I are heading down to shop around, might you and your beloved be interested in some fun with us?” Kafka’s eyes crinkle as she looked at you, despite the fact that you weren’t facing her. You can hear the smile in her voice anyway.

You suddenly perk up at the thought. It was strange — Blade wasn’t around for the entire day. Normally he was hovering around you, a hand on your hip while he leaned in with absent subtlety, watching you work in silence. But today… your body barely felt the warmth of his touches, and you were sure you woke up beside him just fine.

Finally did your eyes leave the information, swiping a hand on the projected holograms of information, watching it dissipate into air while you looked at the girls. You cocked your head to the side, all too confused.

“You mean he wasn’t around you guys?”

Silver Wolf only looked at you with the evident exasperation on her face, “He’s basically attached to you 24/7. What makes you think he’ll even come to us?”

Raising a hand in surrender, you only brushed off Silver Wolf’s petty sass, “Okay, okay. Alright.” You brought out your phone, scrolling through the contacts to see if Blade sent you any messages.

It wasn’t even a surprise to see that he has none to say. He was one of those that preferred… coming to see you to talk to you… even if it meant getting the scare of your life after flicking the lights to your bedroom on, only to see him sitting at the edge of the bed, looking at you with anticipation.

It was cute… but your heart that day disagrees.

You pocketed your phone after, “I’ll check around. Maybe Elio had him do something.”

Kafka nods along, “Come and have fun with us if you can, hm? Of course… that is unless if you find fun with each other first.” She cackles at the disgruntled look on yours and Silver Wolf’s faces.

“Gross.”

“Yeah, I agree with the kid.” You pinched the bridge of your nose before waving them off, letting them off the ship while you went off in the other direction, eager to look for Blade.

You’ve searched everywhere, and even went high and low, leaving the one and only unlikely place for Blade to be in since he got with you — his very own room. You can’t seem to recall how your rare invites for him to sleep over soon turned into you constantly waking up with him nestled in your arms while he slept peacefully. The line was very blurry by then, and it was the least of your worries by now.

The door to Blade’s room slid as you entered.

“Aeons, it’s bloody dark in here,” you flicked the lights on with much struggle. “Blade, a— AH—!”

There goes your second heart attack for your lifetime.

Blade was unfazed as he sat on the edge of the bed like the last time, also looking at the door, now right at you as you stood by the door frame, clutching your rapidly beating heart that thudded against your chest.

Your heart quickened in a different way as soon as you saw the faraway look in his eyes. And one too many times, it broke your heart when his eyes expressed such sadness. You didn’t know much, you never asked, you never could stomach seeing him bring out his likely suppressed memories of the past just to satisfy the curiosity you’ve had. All you knew is that he has been through a lot, so much that he only considers himself as a weapon without regard of who he was or what his name was even.

You slowly idled as the unused bed dips in your added weight when you sat beside him. Hands on your lap, gracious enough to give him space until he reels himself back in. That was your little Blade protocol. As long as he isn’t too far gone, you’re ready to express the fact that you are willing to wait for him. Your gaze finds the emptiness of Blade’s room a little too bittersweet — that he had little to no possessions to express who he is, but at the same time a reminder that he vacated this lonely room and migrated to yours.

And while you mulled over the emptiness, Blade was slowly coming into his senses. His mind is in pieces with barely anything but the sharp sting of betrayal from his comrades, the pain he succumbed to under that woman, and the revenge that burdened him as he awaited the day he gets to Xianzhou Luofo to make them all pay the price.

He blinks, suddenly aware of the warmth beside him and he looked to his left to see you, and like a cat, he’s spooked. He stiffened up quick and almost stood up if your hand hadn’t held him down as it quickly landed on his thigh.

“What’s up with you and sitting silently in dark rooms? Seriously, even Silver Wolf’s getting spooked. Did you pick that up from Kafka?” You laughed — not even a mention of what he was thinking about, or what has gotten him all knotted up. Just the way he likes it.

You don’t ask questions, but your warmth invites him to tell you everything that he knows.

Blade only scoffed but a ghostly smile was on his lips. “I like to think without hearing you mumble about what to eat. Is food all you think about?”

“I’m not the one constantly latched onto someone’s hip almost everyday.” You called him out quick and he gave you a look of hesitance. Uncertainty flashes through his normally sharp cold eyes and you were quick to reel him back in. “Not like it’s a problem or anything. Seriously, you’re quicker to spook than a cat. Don’t be so skittish, you’ve seen me without clothes before.”

Blade groaned as he pressed his palm against your mouth, “Quit yammering about things like that.” As blissful as those memories were, the last time you were caught talking about something, Sam overheard, Blade refused to leave your shared room, and you had terrible scratch somewhere along your neck.

Even in the emptiness, you found your bliss beside him and Blade mirrored your sentiments. Even more so when you would shower him in the attention that he so desperately needs without having to beg for it.

You wordlessly watched as he stood up from the edge of the bed. You had every inkling to stop, but you also understood that Blade comes to you when he’s ready. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep him around and show him an ounce of comfort that he himself clearly needs. But you were stunned when he turned to you and drops to the floor, on his knees.

“Uh…”

Blade doesn’t speak when his head finds itself on your lap, cheek on your thigh while he refused to look at you.

But when he did, there was a silent plea. To soothe his aches with your loving touch, to comfort him with the smile that finds captures every starlight in existence. You only complied with a minuscule smile as your fingers slowly threaded through his luscious dark hair, fingertips soothingly massaging his scalp.

You relished in the sigh that escaped his lips as he melted in your touch, his head lolling in your lap.

“…Our shampoo does more wonders to your hair than mine.” You commented with a tiny pout and he only grunted in response. He’d rather you talk to him until he forgets that painful void in his chest after being betrayed by his comrades. “Or maybe you’re just naturally perfect, huh?”

“‘M not…” his response was muffled, but you understood nonetheless.

“You are.” You insisted with another grin as you continued to pamper him with your gentle touches. You could see the way his shoulders visibly released tension, his form going slack as he indulged in the comfort you offered.

You stayed in silence with him, the static atmosphere in the room no more than suffocating as you made sure your love and devotion reached him as much as he did yours.

And suddenly, your hand gravitates from his head down to his other cheek, caressing it ever so gently. Your featherlight touch soothes his core deeply and he could only let his lips curl up into a small satisfied smile.

Your hand moved down further until you scratched the underside of his chin.

And a purr rumbles from Blade’s chest.

You stopped and his eyes snapped open as the realization hits you both like the Astral Express. He hurriedly looked up to you and sure enough, there was an ecstatic grin plastered on your pretty face.

“Wh—”

“Don’t.”

…And so you don’t. For now at least.

#and they never went to hangout with kafka and sw #u just forgot about it when u found out ur bladie purrs #trust that it will be a blackmail material #ADIAMDIMSIDV. I NEED BLADE RN OR IM GONNA EXPLODE #jhuzen’s stupid one shots #jhuzen’s stupid hcs #jhuzen’s stupid scenarios #hsr x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #blade x male reader

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fatuismooches · 4 months

Text

fabulam diu oblitus - sequel.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has ended, but that doesn't mean it can't start again.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the fifth and final part of this fic, please read the other four before this! This is a fluffier continuation of the last part in order to soothe your hearts from the last part. Thank you to each and every one of you who supported me with this fic, it was a wonderful experience and I hope you all enjoyed it! Now, let's wrap up the tale of the raven and sparrow once and for all. (Also, I realize that this part may seem a bit reader-centric, but I hope it's still good!)

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

It had been years since the Traveler had attended their first Akademiya Extravaganza. It was a marvelous experience. It had also been years since the old sages were overthrown, the Balladeer’s attempt to become a God, and of course, the deletion of the Doctor’s segments as well as the death of the Omega build.

But why was the Traveler still in Teyvat? Since they still had yet to find their treasured sibling, their journey persisted. And so they and their traveling companion had found themselves back in Sumeru for another fun festival. Paimon had already had her fill of games and yummy food, so now they were going to see a performance, by the one and only Nilou. Their friend often danced, but today would be a special one since it was during the festival.

“Oh wow! Zubayr Theater is so much more lively than usual!” Paimon exclaimed. Indeed, there was a large crowd gathered below the stage, all of them excited to watch the dancer’s performance. But there was one person who caught Paimon’s eye. Someone was sitting by themselves, away from the crowd.

“Huh? Look over there, someone is sitting all alone. Do you think they’re okay?”

“Paimon, just because someone is by themselves doesn’t mean they’re in trouble. Maybe they don’t like being around large groups of people.”

“Oh… Paimon knows that! But maybe we should check on them, just in case. We still have some time before Nilou’s performance.” The Traveler gave in to their friend’s request and the pair made their way over to you. But you were too lost in your thoughts to notice them coming.

Your illness still remained, but with all the years that had passed by, at least it wasn’t as bad as it was before. It didn’t totally dominate your life, and you were able to do some things by yourself that you couldn’t do before! It wasn’t a cure, but it was something. Though of course there were bad days, the good days were the ones you focused on more. Good days such as today.

You were back in Sumeru after hundreds of years. You never thought it would happen but, one day your husband came to you and told you the news so casually, you thought you were dreaming. You? Leaving Snezhnaya? It felt unreal! If you were stronger, you would have tackled him to the floor with your love, but alas you had to settle for squeezing him as hard as you could.

Though, to be honest, you weren’t sure if the Fatui actually had business there, or if he wanted to bring you there since you’d been longing for it for so long. (But it seemed unlikely that Pierro would give him vacation days…) Regardless, your joy was received by him adequately as you peppered his face with kisses.

So now you were here, in your home country. Of course, there were numerous top-tier Fatui agents assigned to you in disguise, always trailing behind with great skill, since Dottore was never going to let you be by yourself. But you didn’t really mind. The past few days had been the most fun you’d had in so long! (If only Dottore could join you. Obviously, he couldn’t in broad daylight… not to mention whatever duties he had.)

As you remember it, each Darshan had set up booths for the Wisdom Gala with a ton of interesting mini-games and other stuff. Though the concept was the same, you were once again realizing how things had changed over the centuries you were asleep… these games were truly novel! You were impressed at the creativity because it was nothing like this when you were a student!

One that was funny was when you were given a mallet… yes a mallet, to hit these little wooden fungi that kept popping up and down in different spots. You were given a question and each of the fungi had a different answer. You had to whack the one with the right answer. Now, figuring out the answer wasn’t the question, but rather hitting them. With your illness, lugging this thing quickly enough to smack them was not an easy task… but it was fun! Hehe, you knew Zandy would have whacked all of them anyway. Ugh, you were really feeling robbed now… the best things always happen in school after you already left.

Though your favorite game was the gear puzzles. You were given multiple gears of different sizes and had to insert them to make all of them eventually turn. You ended up finishing them at record speed, causing a whole swarm of Kshahrewar students around you, begging you to join their Darshan. It was a good thing one of your agents caused a distraction elsewhere for you to swiftly escape… Hmm, maybe you should ask Dottore to make these for you, so you could occupy your mind.

Ahh, not to mention the food… the delicious, authentic Sumerian cuisine that you missed so much. Although some things had naturally changed over four hundred years, it was as yummy as you remembered it. You always packaged some so you could share with Dottore (especially the sweets.) At the end of the day, or when you were tired, you were always escorted back to him. The location was secluded of course, for privacy and safety reasons. Your husband would listen to you ramble about quite literally everything, as you explored Sumeru City thoroughly, not just the festival. Even though he already knew everything you spoke about, he liked seeing your curiosity be indulged in.

But today was different. Today you decided to witness the performances going on in the theater. You had always liked watching them (Columbina often invited you to them) in Snezhnaya, so now you wanted to see what Sumeru had to offer. Four hundred years ago, the Akademiya looked down and shamed the arts far more than they do today. Non-academic writing, drawing, sculpting, acting, singing, dancing, you name it. There was no such thing as the Grand Bazaar or Zubayr Theater. Though you didn’t live here anymore, you were very pleased to see how much the arts were appreciated now, as they should be. Especially that red-haired girl, her dancing was awe-inspiring. You had seen her practice before the performance for a few days, and it was beautiful! If only things were like this when you were a student here…

“Hello there! You’re sitting all the way over here by yourself, are you okay?” A squeaky voice interrupted your reminiscing and you turned to see who it was.

The Traveler and Paimon… It seemed that you were blankly staring at them for too long because the floating one spoke again.

“Um… are you okay?”

“Oh! I’m fine, sorry, sorry, I just spaced out for a second there,” you apologetically waved them off. This was going to be a bit annoying.

A while ago, you had decided to let go. Let go of the pain, of any possible thoughts of revenge, of the sheer grief you suffered from your loss. Because continuing to work yourself up like that would only worsen your illness and mental state. For the most part, you’d been successful, living each day as best you could along with your husband. You still thought about the segments though, always thankful for what they did for you.

But now that the Traveler stood in front of you in flesh and blood, your composure wavered a little. This was the same person who killed Omega. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hatred, but you relaxed with a deep breath.

“That’s okay! Well, Paimon is Paimon, and this here is the Traveler. We saw you here by yourself and just wanted to see if you were alright!” The blonde nodded in affirmation.

“Ah, I see. There’s no need to worry about me. My body can’t handle standing for so long, so it’s better for me to sit, even if I’m a bit far away from the stage.” There was no harm in telling them right off the bat because you had a feeling that Paimon’s line of questioning would make you reveal your illness anyway. She talked a lot, according to your fellow Fatuis.

“Huh? Are you injured?”

“No, it’s just my illness. My body struggles to do many things a healthy person would, so I need to be careful.” The pair nodded at you in sympathy.

“Oh… Paimon is sorry about that. That sounds really tough…”

“It’s alright. It’s been like this for many years, so I’ve grown accustomed to it.” The fairy placed her hand on her chest in understanding before she brightened.

“Ah, Paimon has a good idea! Why don’t we keep you company during the performance? You know, we’ve been here loads of times and are even friends with Nilou! We can definitely tell you some cool things!”

“Oh, that sounds… nice.” You smiled at them, not because you liked them, but more because you were interested in their stories about this place. Paimon cheered and the Traveler took a seat near you. It made your skin crawl a bit, but you didn’t show any outward reaction.

“Say, Paimon never asked your name.”

“You can call me [Name].” The only person who knew you in this country was the Dendro Archon, and you doubted they would tell her about you, so there was no point in using another name. Also that was too much work.

“So [Name], is this your first time in Sumeru? We can show you all the best restaurants if you need it!” Ah, so the agents were also accurate when they said she liked food a lot. And the fact the Traveler was silent most of the time.

“No, I used to live here. But, I moved away a long time ago, so this is my first time back in many years.”

“That sounds nice. It must feel good to be back, huh? It’s too bad the Interdarshan Championship isn’t taking place this year. That would have been lots of fun!” Paimon sighed, memories of the last one flowing through her mind. Ah yes, you remember that as well. You and Zandik were never chosen as nominees of course… but it was a fun event to observe. For you at least. Zandik would always go on about how foolish the competitors were, how they couldn’t see how simple the seemingly difficult challenge was. You always laughed at his criticism.

“Mhm, it’s too bad. Maybe I can come back another time to see that.”

“Yeah, you definitely should! Speaking of, did you come here with anyone?”

“Yes, my husband accompanied me here. But he’s working right now, so I’m by myself.”

“Aww, that’s too bad. It must be lonely to enjoy a festival by yourself, huh?”

“Perhaps a little bit, but I do not mind. He’s taken care of me for countless years along with his work duties, it’s more than enough for me to even have the opportunity to experience this festival.”

“Wow, you two really do sound like a loving couple!”

“Hehe, yes… yes, we are,” you had started to smile loopily at the thought of Dottore and ignored the look the Traveler and Paimon gave you. But your attention returned when the stage lights flickered on and the crowd started to simmer down.

“Looks like the performance is starting! Oh, Paimon can’t wait to see what Nilou has in store this time!” You were excited to see it as well.

—

The performances were delightful. The play was well-acted and interesting, and the red-haired girl’s dance at the end was beautiful. Huh… you wish they had more festivals like this in Snezhnaya. Or maybe they did, and you didn’t know about them. You’d have to ask Bina about that when you return.

“That was so, so touching,” Paimon sniffed as the Traveler comforted their friend. You couldn’t help but agree as well. “We have to go say hi to Nilou now!” The Traveler and Paimon rose as you watched them.

“Just stay here [Name], we’ll be back in a few minutes!” You smiled at them as they went off to greet their friend before you quickly dropped your expression. Stay? With them? Nah, you had enough for today. You wanted to go back to Dottore now and bother him to let you cuddle him on his lap. So when they weren’t looking, you slipped out of the theater, and your bodyguards slyly followed, attracting the attention of no one.

Ah, you had a lot of things to say to Dottore now, didn’t you…

—

“Huh? Where did [Name] go?” When the pair returned, you were gone.

“They must have left. I bet it’s because you were asking them so many questions, Paimon,” the Traveler teased her.

“Hey! Paimon was being friendly and they didn’t seem to mind! Anyway, let’s go outside. It’s only been a few minutes, maybe they’re still around.” The pair exited and walked around the city for a bit, but you had already disappeared into thin air.

“Traveler, Paimon! It’s nice to see you again!” A gentle voice called out to them. It was Nahida, who walked up to them with a bright smile on her face. The other two responded in kind.

“Oh, hey Nahida! Long time no see, huh?”

“Yes, it’s been quite a while. You must come over for a bit and tell me about your travels sometime. I guess you’ve been enjoying the Akademiya Extravaganza, right?”

“Yup! Traveler and Paimon enjoyed a lot of fun games and delicious food! And then we went to see some performances at the theater, and now we were looking for someone, but eh, it’s not really important anymore.”

“Hmm? Looking for who?”

“Just someone we met a few hours ago at the theater. Their name is [Name].” The Dendro Archon’s eyes widened at the mention of your name, immediately straightening up.

“[Name]? Did you say [Name]?” The Traveler and Paimon noticed the God’s surprised expression and inquired about it.

“Yeah, do you know them, Nahida?”

“I… I can’t believe it. Do they happen to look like…” Nahida then went off to give a brief description of you, and the Traveler confirmed that you indeed matched her words. Paimon was a bit worried.

“Nahida, why are you asking us this? You’re making it seem like we were talking to a long-lost criminal or something.”

“Well, I suppose that wouldn’t be too far off. This [Name] that you’ve met is… part of the Fatui. But that’s not the big part. They’re the Doctor’s lover.” It was silent for a few seconds before Paimon responded, nearly yelling as the Traveler’s jaw dropped.

“The man [Name] is married to is THE DOCTOR?!”

“Oh, so they’re married now? Last time I heard they weren’t.”

“Nahida, surely you must be mistaken, right? You’re far too casual about this, no one could be dating the Doctor of their own free will!” Nahida was about to respond when yet another voice interrupted.

“She’s not lying.” A familiar voice echoed from somewhere and the group turned to face it. It was the former Sixth Harbinger, standing to the side, braced against the wall. “That [Name] is indeed the partner of Dottore. I met them while I was in the Fatui.”

“Ahh… Paimon’s head hurts…” The Traveler nodded in agreement as they too rubbed their head at this revelation. “But why? Why would they want to be with the Doctor?”

“It’s futile to ask me about their relationship,” the puppet scoffed. “I cannot begin to comprehend how the two of them supposedly love each other. I’ve spoken to them a few times…” the puppet thought back to those encounters in the lab, “but our conversations did little to enlighten me on the nature of their relationship.”

“[Name] and Dottore have a long history together. It’s… complicated, but I’m not lying when I say they’ve been together for centuries. But what concerns me is that if [Name] is here, then the Doctor must be close by as well… and the Fatui too… He wouldn’t let them roam around all by themselves.”

“Oh no! That’s right, [Name] said that their husband accompanied them here. So that means the Doctor is in Sumeru!”

“I see… the Matra would have noticed if a boat of Fatui arrived at the port… so that means the other agents must be well disguised. But nothing has happened lately. Sumeru has been at peace like usual, there’s nothing that the Fatui have been digging their nose into recently. I wonder…” the God of Wisdom began to mumble to herself while Wanderer merely looked on.

“Paimon would have never guessed they were in the Fatui… do you think they were lying about their illness too?”

“No, they are indeed afflicted with a mysterious illness. From what I know, [Name] used to be quite a formidable force four hundred years ago. But their illness gradually sapped their strength away from them, leaving them as they are now… so they have virtually no physical prowess anymore.”

“Oh… that’s quite sad. Wait, but that doesn’t change the fact they’re part of the Fatui, with the Doctor no less! They’re our enemy, no doubt!”

“That’s not to mean [Name] is weak. Although their mind has certainly been ravaged by many things, they possess a strong will. Not to mention, they are the one and only Doctor’s close confidant. I’m sure if pressed, they have some tricks up their sleeves.”

“We have to do something! The Fatui are always up to no good, I bet they have some horrible, evil plan to… to… ruin the Akademiya Extravaganza! We can’t let them do that!” Paimon exclaimed while the Traveler nodded in complete agreement. “Nahida, what’s the plan?”

“The plan is to let them be.”

“H-Huh? Nahida, you’re just going to let them go?”

“That’s correct, Paimon.”

“Lesser Lord Kusanali, are you sure?” Even Wanderer, who usually went along with the God albeit with some moaning and groaning, had an objection.

“The festival has been going on for several days now, and tomorrow is the last day. If the Fatui truly were planning something, it would have been done by now. And to be honest, I suspect that the only reason the Doctor made the trip here was for…” You, Nahida wanted to say, but then decided against it. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure, after all. “Actually, never mind. Don’t worry about it, Traveler, Paimon. But if you happen to see them tomorrow, you could speak to them again. I am admittedly… interested in [Name].”

“Well… alright Nahida. We trust you.”

—

While the group was busy chatting about you, you were making your way back to Dottore. It was already evening, and all you wanted to do was relax in the embrace of your beloved. However today, the Fatui agents were escorting somewhere else rather than your temporary home. Where? The more you walked, the quicker you realized.

The large Ruin Golem in the mountains of Sumeru’s forest.

Seeing it from a distance brought back fond memories for you. You remember the first time you and Zandik entered it. He was incredibly fascinated with it and literally spent hours in it. Of course, you were forced to stay with him and help him with all the research and note-taking. But looking back, it was fun. And you may or may not have kissed him a lot in there, and he was very annoyed at you breaking his focus, but did nothing to stop you.

This same spot, near the Ruin Golem, was also a frequent star-gazing spot. Because he would spend so long there, even until night fell, and you kept insisting it’d be romantic to watch the stars here. He didn’t really agree but… Zandik surprisingly indulged you more than you realized.

Soon, you were much closer to the Ruin Golem and Dottore was in sight, waiting for you. The Fatui agents bowed to you as you dismissed them and made your way over to your husband, who was patiently waiting for you while gazing at the large robot in front of him. You wondered if he had finished his work, for him to be wasting time like this.

(In reality, there was no real mission in Sumeru. The five-day long trip was done to indulge your long-time wishes. Pierro had only let Dottore go on it if he managed to finish at least three-quarters of his paperwork before the trip, and the other quarter during it. So needless to say, Dottore had worked quite hard to acquire this time off, but you didn’t need to know that because then you would feel absolutely terrible and he’d have to deal with your countless apologies.)

“[Name],” he greeted you.

“Zandik!” You immediately hugged him to which he reciprocated and patted your head. “I missed you! Oh, I have so much to tell you. You wouldn’t believe what happened. I met the-”

“Traveler,” Dottore interrupted.

“You know already?”

“Of course. I was notified the moment it happened.”

“Oh.” Well, now that you think about it, that made sense. Of course, Dottore would be aware of everything that happened to you… you were alone, but in a way you weren’t. He still had that overprotective and possessive streak, and rightfully so. He chuckled at your reaction.

“But, I believe your point of view will be far more eye-opening. So please, do tell.” You brightened and immediately began prattling about everything, not before you two laid down on the grass and got comfortable, the same as you did four hundred years ago. Though Dottore wasn’t particularly worried about the Traveler doing anything to you, no, of course, he had planned for this possibility (unlike you) and already had measures in place just in case anything happened.

So the conversation began to move onto softer things. Like you bringing up old memories every five seconds. For example, you two also used to come here frequently to investigate the forest for classes. Zandik usually found these ones boring and was much more interested in Ruin Machines, so you often sped through these boring expeditions in record time so he could do more “fun” things.

“Perhaps we should do that again.”

“Do what? Investigate the biodiversity of Sumeru’s forest?”

“Correct.” You laughed at his words but Dottore looked rather serious about it.

“Isn’t the sun going to set soon? And I thought you weren’t interested in that stuff anymore.”

You were surprised he was doing this, but Dottore had already risen to his feet and stuck out his hand to you expectantly.

“No matter. We can still see, no? And I do believe it will be interesting to see how it has changed over four hundred years.” That was a lie. He didn’t actually care about the plants of the forest. He was only doing it because he knew it was something you would like. And he was right of course, for you smiled happily and took his hand, clasping it tightly.

“Alright then! I’ll lead the way, just like old times,” you puffed your chest out. “Just follow me, Zandik. And you’re taking notes this time! You don’t know what you put my hand through all those years ago!” Dottore only chuckled at your huffing. You were always on note duty because he kept breaking his pens and spilling ink everywhere, much to your dismay.

But regardless, you two spent an evening examining Sumeru’s fauna, the conversation turning surprisingly rather intellectual. But it soon turned quiet as you two ended the night off by gazing at the stars, just like old times.

The stars may be a lie, but sometimes lies are still beautiful.

—

Today was the last day of the Akademiya Extravaganza, and you decided to spend the day enjoying the city one last time. You were set to leave with Dottore this afternoon, so you only had about half a day to do what you needed to do. You didn’t know when you’d be back again, so you wanted to imprint it into your mind, and maybe get a few souvenirs as well. It all went well, you did what you needed to do, bought what you wanted and passed it on to your agents to keep for you, and were actually about to head back to Dottore when you met some familiar faces.

The Traveler and Paimon… again. It seemed like the Gods really did hate you, huh?

“Hey [Name]!” That familiar high-pitched voice waved to you and called out your name… ugh. Just as you were about to go, too. But you pretended otherwise.

“Hello Paimon, Traveler. It is good to see you again. I must apologize for leaving yesterday. I had… matters to attend to,” you apologized.

“Don’t worry about that! Paimon understands.” You smiled back in response and waited to see if the pair would say anything else, but they just… stood there for a few seconds and looked at you.

“Well, if that’s all…” You turned to leave, but Paimon blurted out a strained response unusually quickly.

“Wait! Paimon means, would you like to take a walk with us? Our conversation got cut short yesterday, it would be nice to talk a bit more.” You squinted a bit at Paimon’s expression. It seemed a bit… off. Regardless, you did have some more time to kill, and perhaps they would tell you something of amusement you could relay back to Dottore. So it wasn’t too bad of a decision.

“Alright, that sounds fine,” you nodded in agreement. Paimon had to hold in her sigh of relief. And so the three of you began to walk, taking in the sights of the city. Paimon asked you some more questions, but she seemed a bit… nervous? You weren’t dumb, the more she talked the easier it was to notice. The Traveler was good at keeping a poker face, but Paimon on the other hand, was not. She was nervously looking back and forth between you and the blonde. Which could only mean one thing.

They knew your real identity.

Ah, so they found out. Huh. You weren’t expecting that, but you didn’t care much. They were bound to find out eventually, so long as they kept fighting the Fatui. You didn’t know if they were going to confront you right now or not, but you weren’t going to wait around for it. You knew your Fatui bodyguards were close by somewhere, but you didn’t want them to get hurt by the Traveler, so you stretched your arms out, a signal for them to back away a bit. Because you already had a defense mechanism readied that you didn’t want to affect them. Courtesy of Dottore, of course.

So before Paimon could ask another question, you abruptly stopped. You two had exited the city, so there were no regular civilians around either.

“[Name], why did you-”

“There’s no need to pretend anymore. You know who I am, don’t you?” The looks on their faces gave it all away, and the Traveler instantly put up their guard, which you chuckled at.

“Now now, there’s no need to get all worked up. Surely the ever-righteous Traveler won’t hurt a poor, defenseless soul like me, right?” You simply smiled at them, and Paimon was immediately on the verbal defense.

“Hey! You’re in no position here to be saying stuff like that! The Traveler here has taken out countless Fatui, you’re no different,” the travel guide bluffed. She remembered Nahida’s instructions to let you be, but how could she let you talk to her like that?! “And, and,” she scratched her brain for another warning, “we’ll take you to the Matra for questioning!” Paimon blurted out her best threat, which you only laughed at.

“Oh no, I’m so scared…”

“Hey! We’re not joking! You’re connected with the Doctor, they’ll lock you up!”

“Mhm, you know all of that, don’t you? And yes, I’m well aware of your martial prowess,” you looked directly at the blonde. “The same hands killed Omega, didn’t they?” At the segment’s name, the Traveler stiffened. The look in your eyes wasn’t the same as it was before. It had a carefully veiled sense of loathing that had come up to the surface.

“You know, for years I wondered to myself, how did Omega look like in his last moments? What did he think of? What did he do?” Your voice gradually became a soft whisper. “These questions used to drive me mad, but I don’t think I want to know the answer anymore.” The two were shocked at the clear love and longing you had in your voice for the deceased segment. It wasn’t fake at all.

“But why? Why would you willingly be with someone like the Doctor?” Earlier that day, the Traveler and Paimon had decided to scout Sumeru again in hopes of finding notes that you left behind, and after careful exploration once again, they did. Your notes, however, always had careful logical additions left by Zandik. And then, in response… you’d flirt with him on the note, to which the scholar never responded. The pair didn’t know what to feel or say to that.

“Ah, there it is. The same question I receive every time. But it’s okay. I can understand your confusion. Though if I were to stand here and tell you every reason why, it would make you only more confused. So let me answer your question with the simplest answer of them all. I love Dottore. Dottore loves me. That is the foundation of our relationship.” Unfortunately, that answer seemed to only make the two more confused.

“… It seems that you still do not understand. But that’s okay. It’s not like it matters anyway,” you supposed they were unconvinced a man such as Dottore could love, but you weren’t here to convince them of that. So then you turned to leave before Paimon spoke again.

“Where do you think you’re going? You are coming with Traveler and Paimon!” You let out a sigh at this creature’s persistence. Looks like you’d have to do something.

“You know, I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to use this,” you mumbled under your breath before you retrieved a pill from your pocket and swallowed it, although it was a different color from your regular ones. The Traveler continued to watch on carefully, ready to summon their sword at any second.

“Hmph! Any last words?” Paimon put her hands on her hips as she stared at you. You thoughtfully looked up and began to think, before you came up with something. You despised the Traveler, but a question couldn’t help but linger in your chest. And hey, they’ve helped Childe and Arlecchino in the past, despite nearly being killed by them, right? And that Electro God too. You didn’t know if they were stupid or just too nice. It was worth a shot. And, you didn’t care if you were selfish or not. You were tired of being nice.

“Traveler… may I ask you a favor?”

The Traveler raised their eyebrow, partially offended and shocked you would ever ask them that considering the antagonistic stance you took. That was the last thing they expected, but you took their silence as an opportunity to continue.

“You hop to different worlds, don’t you? Different universes?” The Traveler nodded, unsure of where you were going with this. Your gaze flickered to the floor, eyebrows furrowing before you made up your mind.

“Then, when you leave Teyvat, could you… look for me?” Out of everything that could have come out of your mouth, the Traveler could not have expected that.

“I want to know… I just want to know if there exists a world, where none of this happened. Where I was never sick, where he didn’t have to do all of this to find a cure. I want to know if there’s a world where everything is okay for us.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you spoke, loads of memories flashing through your head about everything you’ve gone through. The Traveler and Paimon remained speechless because they truly did not know what to say, before you cringed at yourself for saying something so stupid.

“Ah, what am I saying? I know you have no sympathy for us, it was dumb to ask,” you waved it off. “Forget it. But I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much time here with you. I have things to attend to.” At that moment, you reached into your pocket and produced a strange device, and before the Traveler could summon their sword, an irregular, headache-inducing sound echoed throughout the area. Instantly, the Traveler knew it was the same sound device Omega had used to put them to sleep all those years ago. But it was too late, as their mind became foggy and their knees buckled to the floor.

“To think that you fell for the same thing twice… that’s kind of embarrassing for you, mighty Traveler,” your laugh was the last thing they heard before they fell into a dream. “It’s a good thing Dottore told me to carry this thing… and made a pill so the effects wouldn’t work on me. Well, bye now.”

—

After rendering those two unconscious, you made your way to the boat you and Dottore were going to leave in. Your agents had caught back up to you and you swore you heard them mumbling about how “cool” you were. It was cute.

You saw your husband standing leisurely on the boat. You guess he had no reason to disguise himself considering he was already about to leave. You immediately smiled and climbed onto the boat with his help.

“I guess you were immediately notified of what happened, weren’t you?” You teased.

“Of course,” he went along with your tone. “I am always aware of what hindrances may plague my spouse.” You hummed in acknowledgment as you watched the Fatui prepare to set off.

“You know, this whole trip, I’ve been thinking something stupid.”

“No thought from you could be stupid. Do tell.”

“I’ve been thinking… that I love you so much that it may begin to physically hurt me when you’re not around.” Dottore seemed amused.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, really! All those times when you left me alone in the lab, I swear I started developing some side effects!” You pouted as Dottore found himself laughing at your pain.

“Well, not to worry. I am a doctor, after all, I know very well how to treat this ailment.” Dottore ran his fingers up and down your neck, leaving behind a tingling sensation.

“Oh, do you? Well, go ahead, doctor. Make me feel better.”

“I would be delighted to but, the treatment is a little… hands-on,” his deep voice made your heart race with excitement.

“Aren’t you the one who always gets mad at me for trying to skip my medicine? I see no reason to hesitate.” You smiled boldly.

“As you wish. But don’t say I didn’t warn you…” Dottore then pressed you against the railing of the boat, holding you down so you wouldn’t tip over, and then began to lean into your lips.

(The Fatui agents kept their heads turned the whole time.)

—

That had happened years before the Traveler defeated the Doctor, and consequently killed you in the process. Sometimes they wonder if things could have turned out differently. Especially since some of the other Harbingers were certainly not pleased with them when they finally fought, namely the Third, but she too eventually met her demise. But what’s done is done.

The Traveler thought that would be the last they ever saw of you and the Doctor, but they were wrong. As one would expect, Dottore was connected with many of the events in Teyvat, and so he popped up here and there again throughout the rest of the Traveler’s journey.

But one thing they did not expect was to see you and Dottore again. Where? The Ley Lines had somehow shown them people from the past, as they once did with the Shogun.

It was… strange. Strange to see the two of you just be normal. Normal people, normal students before it all changed. You, a stark contrast to the person they saw before - energetic, bubbly, handling your weapon with ease as you protected Zandik from any possible danger. Zandik, a lot more grouchy and less suave, morally ambiguous but not quite evil yet. Two people who were alone and found company in each other’s likeness. It created a sort of… understanding for the Traveler. Not forgiveness. Understanding.

So when they finally left Teyvat, they decided to fulfill that favor you had asked them. To find you in another universe. It was also to satisfy a sort of curiosity they had themselves. Would you two truly be happy in another world? They would find out as long as they continued to journey with their sibling. So they traveled and traveled and met many new people, and went on many new adventures, your request lingering in the back of their mind every time they visited a new planet.

Admittedly, it was actually kind of… sad to see your fates in the other universes. In many universes, you died, or he died, leaving the other all alone unable to come to terms with their fate. In some universes, you were ill again. You did not survive. In others the relationship did not last, breaking it off due to numerous reasons out of your or Zandik’s control. And maybe the worst fate of them all… you two never crossed paths. Never able to give the other a chance at love.

If the Traveler had a Mora for every time fate divided you two, they might be as rich as Pantalone. They wondered if your request would ever be finished. So when the Traveler entered the next universe, they weren’t expecting much.

This world was a bit different from the others. It had no supernatural powers, but it had great technology. Things like “internet” and “phones” and “computers.” But they had gotten accustomed to it quickly, as they always had. Right now they were at an outdoor cafe, waiting for their sibling when they heard a familiar voice.

“Ugh, I swear, as soon as the term ends, I will be running to give that guy a scalding rating!” The voice spoke with annoyance and a slam followed soon after, presumably textbooks dumped onto the table. This cafe was frequented by students, so this was no surprise for the Traveler. Cheap, yummy, and a good study spot is what they heard from passersby.

“I told you not to take him,” another grouchy voice replied. “You brought this on yourself.”

“You know that he was my only option! I literally got the last seat in the class,” you whined back, the chairs dragging across the concrete. “Besides, I don’t want to hear that from you when you complain about your professors every single day, Zandik.” That name nearly made the Traveler choke on their drink.

Zandik? Did they hear that right…? They turned around, hoping not to arouse attention, and then their eyes widened as they looked at the pair that just arrived.

They were the spitting image of the [Name] and Dottore from Teyvat, although these people were dressed in different clothes that were normal for this planet. There were a few minor differences that the Traveler only recognized because they were familiar with Teyvat’s version of you, but there was no doubt about it.

These two people were this planet’s version of you and Dottore. But the question was, were you two happy together? The Traveler needed to find out, and this position wasn’t good for spying so they moved to another inconspicuous location.

Zandik only rolled his eyes at your defiant quip before opening his heavy textbook, which you soon followed suit. The friendly banter between the two of you flowed naturally. When the food came, you tried feeding him the piece of cake which Zandik tried shooing your hand away, but had to give in after a while with slightly red cheeks. Your hands occasionally brushed against each other, but neither of you pulled away. Interesting, very interesting. Could this be the universe…?

After you two left the cafe, the Traveler decided to follow. This was probably a bit stalkerish, but they just needed to confirm. (Good thing they had skill in this area.)

In the busy public streets, your shoulders only brushed, but when it became more deserted, you reached out to hold hands with Zandik. He huffed and mumbled something to you, which the blonde could not hear, though you only responded with a laugh as you squeezed his hand tighter. But then your attention was diverted by something else.

“Oh, look there Zandik! Do you see that?” You whisper-yelled, drawing his attention to a tree branch. “It’s a raven and a sparrow! Together! The thing is on top of the other’s head!” You couldn’t contain your amusement. “Isn’t that really strange? Don’t ravens eat sparrows sometimes?”

“Yes, and the sparrow must be rather stupid for allowing itself to get so close to something that can kill it,” Zandik said bluntly.

“That’s not nice,” you poked him for that comment. “Just because they’re different doesn’t mean they can’t be friends. Just like us, Zandik!”

“The world is not that nice, [Name],” he sighed, your optimism causing him great headaches sometimes.

“Yeah, I know thatttt~. But you never know! Hehe, you know, this reminds me of the time a few months back when a butterfly landed on your nose. You looked so cute! Ah, I’m so glad I got a picture.” Zandik immediately scowled, because you set the bloody thing as your wallpaper, so anyone who looked at your phone’s home screen could see the embarrassing moment. Ajax and his wretched finance and theater friends did not let him hear the end of it. Your boyfriend then started walking much faster, dragging you along as you yelped at the increased speed.

“Stop babbling and hurry up, otherwise I’ll leave you behind.”

“Okay, okay! Just slow down!!”

Soon, the two of you reached your newly rented apartment. Both of you had only recently moved out of the dorms, but it had been a lot of fun decorating and growing accustomed to this new life. The Traveler watched as you disappeared into the building, and then noticed your figure again through a window near the upper level. You were cradling an animal, a cat actually, and kissed it gently. Zandik then made his way over, uncharacteristically scratching its chin as well, before saying something to you. (Perhaps scolding you for giving your pet too much attention. A very Zandik way of saying he himself wanted more attention too.) You only shook your head with mirth before pressing a kiss to your lover’s lips, and the two of you moved away from the window, now out of sight.

Well, the Traveler’s job was done now. You and Zandik were happy. Maybe not in Teyvat, maybe not in any other world but… you two were happy in this one. And that was all you wished for.

[Name] and Zandik were happy.

And that’s the perfect ending for a fairy tale, right?

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