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roturo · 3 months

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₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎♡ BAD GIRL, GOOD GIRL !

he couldn't hide the crush he had for the good girl who's a bad girl to him ! ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎

contains: smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, cunnilingus, masturbation (m), e2l, a lot of praise, overstimulation, fluff & angst if you squeeze your eyes, lore mention (really vague), based when gojo was still in school, multiple orgasms, gojo whimpers, nipple play, throat & tummy bump, creampie, oral m!receiving, a lot of the use 'fuck', kinda getting caught, really cute tbh.

A/N: this was supposed to be a request but... idk what happened tbh, i just created this story. 2.6k + felt lonely

You enjoyed this. Really. You know about the power you have over Gojo Satoru. And he’s childish, he won’t admit it. He will continue with his god complex and see you as a ‘pathetic girl without knowing you well.

And it’s fun. His gaze is so funny, the hypocrisy is funny. He would be talking with Suguru, judging you and how fast you’re getting into his and Suguru’s level. Is he afraid of you?

The worst fucking thing is how hard you get him. Maybe he has a degradation kink to bring him back to earth. But each time it gets harder to hide his clear erection inside his pants.

But he would never admit the admirations and maybe the tiny crush he has for you. You being the first time he saw a girl like this– and he might be afraid of you. Afraid of losing himself to some silly highschooler crush– When there’s more important things to focus on in this world, like… he could focus on the political and economic state of the world right now….?

“Gojo Satoru! Are you paying attention?” Sensei Yaga brought him back from his own imaginary debate. “Uh- Yeah, sensei. I’m paying attention.”

“Oh.. Is that so Gojo?” Oh well fuck. Here you go. He sighed, saying your name in a whisper like if it’s some bad word full of anger- “Would you mind explaining what Sensei Yaga just said?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fucking you with your face pressed against his bed and silencing your cries for him, while he pounds his cock from behind you into your poor vulnerable pussy he just ate out some minutes ago.

“Why do you keep acting like some bad girl instead of behaving yourself and learn to be a good girl for me, hm? Learn how to treat your seniors right. How does that sound? Do you have an answer for that?”

Silence.

Sixth fuck. Why did he think it was okay to say that out loud? Does it sound kinky?

“...I– why- uh- Y-You don’t know me Gojo.” Convincible right? His nicknames didn’t affect you. “So shut up boy. Instead of telling me how to behave, why don’t– Ugh. Shut up.”

He would pretend and convince himself that the reddish color covering your face is an act of his imagination, and move his gaze to his best-friend Suguru, which has a mix of confusion and shock adorning his face. “What? Do I have something in my face?” Gojo asked, touching his left cheek with his hand on that side.

“Uh- No. I will… just pay attention to what Yaga is saying.”

He can’t fucking stop thinking about you.

Is this right? His hand sneaking down his abdomen towards the elastic of his sweatpants, just to enter and– FUCK! He shouldn’t be doing this while thinking about ‘someone he hates’ and want to put them in their place. His erect cock was really visible through his sweats, and all he could do was roll in his bed trying to take you off his mind- Being shirtless didn’t help that either, his also erect nipples having fun with the friction he created while rolling on his bed. Great, not only it affected other areas of his body, but it also brought release to the problem he was trying to stop.

So he couldn’t stop himself. And his sinful right hand went down and inside his boxers to jerk off some tension down there (traitor)-- A whimper escaped his mouth once he teased his tip, already full of pre-cum thanks to stupid bed. His left hand traveled searching to cover his mouth to stop soundings coming out– Not trying to out himself, because it looked like this fucking walls were made of paper. But accidentally while doing so he touched his nipple, bringing out a loud and electric shock to his body.

Seventh? Ninth? Fuck.

He quickly bit his lips, surely blood coming out of them because of how hard he was trying to stop himself, but he really needed to cum. Fuck- If you were here, he would ask for permission, he would beg to cum. He would do anything to just fucking cum inside your pussy.

And it’s so embarrassing, because of all the rumors of him in this small space for his kind, that he’s a playboy and gets pussy every weeknd– when he’s basically a virgin if he has never got his cock inside a woman's pussy. Does it still count as sex without it inside?

He didn’t have enough fucks in his vocabulary to count all the misfortunes he has in a week. How could he let his guard down? How the fuck the curse got him? But the worst (actually it’s like the best thing that happened in his life) is that you cared about his well-being and you offered to take care of him as fast as possible.

"You're hurt. Is it bad? Do you need the med-kit? Let me see-" He already treated himself, not wanting to be a bother for you– (he wants to) but thanks to his infinity it wasn’t so hard to, and it’s basically a paper cut, but ever since that happened, everyone’s been cautious. Well, at least the people who know.

"Don't bother, it's not serious. I've already tended to it."

"...Someone was able to get the better of you?"

Oh shit. Congratulations Satoru! You used another word to describe how unlucky you are! But did you have to mention him?

“Uh.. No- I mean- When training… y’know? It happens, even to the best” He sent you a wink, anxious to get over this topic and not get too focused on him, because really. It was just a paper cut for him. He called for you, bringing back your gaze to his eyes, did he always look this beautiful? “Uh.. Yeah?” You didn’t intend your voice to sound like that, but suddenly everything felt so hot, and was he so close to you before?

“Why did you want to take care of me? The last time I got the memo you hated me as much as you hate bugs.”

“I.. I don’t hate you Gojo. I just-” sigh.

“It’s okay, I understand if you want to gain Yaga’s confidence for… whatever reasons you have. I’m just impressed- that’s all. I’m very grateful it was you.”

…

“I like you Satoru. I’m scared I'll lose you- even though I don’t show it, I care about you” Oh nice. You don’t hate him, and he liked the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Could easily make him cum. It’s great you also care for him.

“Can’t blame you. I’m pretty awesome.” His quirky smirk showed in his face, earning no reaction from you. Oh.

Oh fuck.

He really fucked it this time, didn’t he?

“Wait, are you fr?”

“There’s no way you just said ‘ef’ ‘ar’ Satoru.”

He didn’t care about your criticism now, not when you just made him the happiest man in the world and he lifted you with no problem, and got you in a position so you’re now above him, caging his legs.

With no words, he kissed you on the lips with a passion he has never shown. Not even while fighting. He loved the way your lips were perfect for him, how small you felt above him in his touch. As an automatic reaction you slowly started to rock your hips, earning a whimper from him. Which somehow turned you on more, your hands roamed his body until they landed on his chest. Index and middle finger keeping his nipples between- an unexpected thrust from him caught you by surprise and pressed your fingers back together, earning a whine from him. You were about to get your hands under his shirt, and discover this new ‘thing’ of Gojo’s, but-

“Oh my fucking god. WhatshappeningrightnowIthoughsomethingbadhappenedtoyouguys.”

Poor Suguru.

Both of you have been into very… ‘pretentious’ situations while interacting through the years. It stresses him out that it’s just.. well- pretentious. Because you never go to the next base, even after forgetting the bickering and rivalry through the years, (and the raging sexual tension from Gojo), he might finally have the courage to put aside his masquerade and open up about his wants and be vulnerable… At the act? After? During?

Taking a deep breath and sighing, waiting for your answer, but all he receives is a stare. Which makes him even more anxious. He would prefer a slap, a cussing, fuck! even you laughing at him. But all he gets is a stare. Was it so stupid to say how much he liked you and that you should have sex with him?

He called out your name, bringing you back from your shock- “I- shit… Wait a second, this isn’t how I wanted things to go.. what the hell?” The last question was barely heard, he was murmuring to himself and planning a hundred ways he could die without bringing down the sorcerer world with him. Is it good he confessed in your room?

“That’s the worst confession I’ve heard in a while y’know?...” He stopped his mental break-down, never believing he would blush for a girl. Not even the girl he has been crushing (and hating) through his teenage years. “I like you too, like- for my whole life. But I didn’t think you would feel the same. I didn’t see it.”

“But I felt it.” His eyes traced your body until they reached the floor. It was weird seeing Gojo like this. Never in his 20 years of life thought he would be feeling weak and vulnerable to anyone. Not until he met you.

“Yeah- I can see it” You lazily pointed at his crotch. “You seriously have a problem… Do you like being humiliated and degraded?... This isn’t the first time this happens, y’know?:..”

A whine escaped his mouth like a little child- “Ugh, it’s just… I really need you.”

You wasted no time when your lips glued to his. It was 10 P.M, everyone was asleep, but at this rate you didn’t care. If they ungratefully hear you and Satoru moaning, it was his fault for giving the first step this time.

He called out your name, making you break the kiss and start marking his neck. “Ah, fuck. Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.” You pushed him back so he’s now sitting on the sofa. Kneeling down for him while you continue marking him and hearing his beautiful noises. You were in between his legs, in front of his raging cock begging for release from the sweat pants. “Is this okay Satoru?”

A lot of little cute nods were made, his flushed cheeks making him look absolutely precious. “I need words baby, I don’t know what you want me to do…” You said while playing with the hem of his sweats.

“I want you to suck my cock and then fill you up… please.” Oh! He clearly answered his desires, making you form a smile while he bit his lips watching you undress him. “No underwear hm? You were waiting for this?” His cock was standing there tall and angry. The pale base with a pink needy tip leaking pre-cum from it. “I was risking my luck”

“Then you’re such a lucky man right now Satoru.” Your lips wrapped around his cock, and you slowly teased his tip with your tongue, making him whimper at the feeling. And you tried to deepthroat him- which caught him by surprise and his hand immediately went to find a place in your head, making a made-up ponytail with your hair for some support. (He was too lost in the pleasure to even know if he doing it right)

With the rest of his neglected cock, your hands traveled up to find his balls and start massaging them. Making Satoru to fucking loose control over his body once he saw the bump his cock caused in your throath- Moans turned into whines with tears, he had to pull up his shirt and bite on it to stop whining. Silent whimpers accompanying his tears while he looks at the beautiful girl between his legs. The sight made him cum faster than he expected, he swears he saw light and white noise was heard in his ears.

You happily showed your tongue to him before swallowing the salty liquid down your throat which earned a groan from Satoru.

“From outside you’re such a bad girl, but inside you’re a good girl f’me, aren’t ya?” You chuckled at his ‘drunk-dazed’ face, moving yourself so you’re on top of him again, his cock still hard against your core. “You don’t know me at all Satoru…”

You placed your arms around his neck, getting closer to him. “Not the way I wished. But you’re giving me the chance to be your man and get to know you, right?”

“Oh… Gojo... I’m looking for a real man, not for a man who pretends to be a man. Are you a real man, Satoru?”

“I’ll be whatever you want baby.” He says, ghosting your lips, making a brushing action with his nose and yours before finally giving in and kissing you again. This kiss was more needy, remembering every place from it. While your hands went insearch of his chest, the hold of your hips with his hands hardened when you ghostly brushed your finger through his nipples. He thrusted upwards, looking for some friction between your core and his.

He was getting needier each passing second- and you noticed that once he grabbed the hems of your leggings and tore them apart. Murmuring about him buying you new ones continuously tearing apart your panties too.

One of his fingers going through your folds, coming out wet, you shyly looked away when he inserted the finger on his mouth and moaned. “Sweet.” His cocky personality was back when he sent you a wink. He looked being in control, to be honest.

With no warning, you placed yourself so his cock was aligned. And it kinda hurt because of how fucking big he is. But his reaction was priceless.

You were full of him already, cum coming out of you. “I-..I.. shit.” He couldn’t believe he just came from being inside you, overstimulation taking over him thanks to his second orgasm, but it just felt so right, he couldn’t stop himself from rocking your hips back and forth using his cum as lubricant.

His cock touched places your fingers could never reach, each thrust and movement felt so good. He called out your name in a whine, his head falling back and taking this opportunity so you could mark his neck more. “IloveyouIloveyousofuckin’muchprincess” He was the first to say those three words, bringing butterflies to your tummy after some time of confessing your feelings to the others. “You’remakin’mefeels’goodmygod.” His cries were because he couldn’t take it anymore, filling you up for a second time. And you swear you looked down and there was a clear bump in your tummy because of how full you were. Making itself more prominent each thrust Satoru gave you.

“Ohyeahbaby…Use me as your fuck toy- shit-i’m yours baby.” He never stopped praising you, not until you came and rested your slumpy body on top of his. Your breathings synchronizing with the other, his heartbeat was audible. His arms wrapped around you like a bear. “Satoru- I need to clean myself-”

“I will clean you- Just… let’s stay some time more like this, please. I want to feel you.” His head rested on top of yours while he drew figures in your back with his fingers. “You’re so… perfect.” He said before giving a peck on your forehead.

“Satoru…?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Are you hard again?”

Millionth fuck.

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sensitivegoblin · 1 year

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I think there’s something really wrong with me but all of the in person therapists are booked till 2023 :(

#vent #sorry #a lot on my mind #i feel like my mind is never quiet and I’m never present #also I’m afraid I created all my problems #what if I’m not really traumatized and I just watched too much tiktok while being isolated #i haven’t laughed out loud genuinely at a YouTube video in a long time #i feel like my body is going through the motions and the real me is stuck in my head trying to regain control #i never tried to fake anything I was just desperately trying to find answers #now I’m extremely afraid that I self diagnosed myself into delusion #i don’t wanna hurt anyone #i like to this I’m very empathetic and compassionate #I’m not good at sacrificing but I’m really trying #I’m trying to be a good person like Jesus but I can’t get past this word cloud in my brain #i really really really really really need an IRL therapist #I’m really scared and my dad really tries to help but I can’t get what’s in my head out to him #and he just doesn’t understand how I’m thinking of so much stuff while watching tv and crocheting flawlessly #k dunno how either #but I feel so out of the moment and unreal and lonely #I think I messed myself up by trying to figure out what’s wrong/find a community #:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((#I’m scared

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xyztrio721 · 2 years

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I apologize for the sudden vent post (?), but I just wanted to get something off of my chest.

I don’t want to be in college right now. My heart is not in my human biology class at all, and I think that’s having a negative impact on my academics. I’m constantly overwhelmed by the amount of information I have to learn from the lectures, I’m having difficulty finishing the labs I get each class, I get very stressed out about whether or not I can get my homework done on time, I’m having difficulty concentrating on reading the textbook and studying, I’m pretty sure I did poorly on my first test for the class, I have little to no confidence on how well I’ll do on the rests of the tests and the three lab practicals I have to do over the course of the class, and I keep forgetting that I have to make a PowerPoint presentation on a disease I’m interesting in researching. Overall, I am not doing so hot in this class. I want to drop out and take a break from college for maybe a year or so because I think these might be signs of burnout/a mental health disorder, but I’m afraid I might not be able do that.

There are a few reasons for this, one of the big ones being that I don’t know if my college will allow me to take a break for a year. I don’t know if I’ll be punished in terms of not receiving financial aid, being kicked out of the honor society I’m a part of (I’m a part of Phi Theta Kappa), falling behind on my degree (I have somewhere between 6-8 classes left until I graduate), or not being reaccepted once I come back. I don’t know if I have a good enough reason to take a break (I don’t think mental health issues are a good enough reason to leave college for a year, at least in the eyes of my college). I don’t know what I want to do during the break, though I do want to find a job, learn to drive (I failed my first driving test and will likely have to retake the permit knowledge test because my permit is about to expire in two months), and learn how to function like a normal person for once in my life (I’m terrified of people in general and don’t know how to converse with anyone, including my friends and parents). I just want to become an adult, which I should have done two years ago, but couldn’t because I’ve been so focused on school for two (almost three) years now and have not yet found a way to balance my life outside of school with my academic life.

Another big reason as to why I may not be able to take a break from college is my parents. My parents don’t seem to understand why school stresses me out so much, even if I only have one class this semester. I tried to talk to my dad about this, and he was pretty much annoyed with me for wanting to drop human biology before I even started the class, saying something along the lines of “It’s just one class. You can do this”. As you can imagine, this attitude does not help me in the slightest. If anything, it makes me feel worse, as I’ve been viewing myself as a coward who can’t even handle taking a single class during a single semester in college (which isn’t new, since I’ve felt like a coward for not being able to handle school from an emotional standpoint for years now) as of late. My mom likely feels the same way, which makes this whole situation even more infuriating.

Combined with the realization that my parents are not as supportive of me as I thought they were, the realization that I may have been a victim of emotional abuse from my mother, and the ongoing investigation of whether or not I have ADD/ADHD or ASD (or both), and I think you can understand why I want to take a break from college.

But it’s never going to happen, isn’t it? Not when my parents seem to be pressuring me (both intentionally and unintentionally) to finish college as soon as possible, and not when I don’t know if my college will even consider letting me take a year-long break.

I feel so trapped… I wish I knew where I could find some help me get through this and/or help me figure out how to take a break from college, but I have no idea where to look…

#//vent #//vent post #(?)#I’m sick of having to deal with constant stress over whether or not I’ll succeed in my classes #I’m sick of wanting to die because I have to deal with mental health issues college and possibly unsupportive parents at the same time #I’m sick of feeling lonely because I’m afraid of approaching people #I’m sick of not feeling like an adult #and I’m sick of my parents treating me as if I were a child still #I’m just so… tired #//suicide mention #//suicidal thoughts #in the tags at least #I want help but I don’t know where to get it #other than the two therapists I’m seeing right now #I don’t know who I should turn to to talk about this #//abuse mention #//emotional abuse

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yandere-daydreams · 7 months

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tw - fem!reader, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, prolonged imprisonment.

“Mistress prisoner?”

There was a knock, the sound of hoofed feet shuffling against a tile floor. You shrunk into yourself, suddenly thankful you’d chosen to take such a claustrophobic linen closet to seek refuge in, that Neuvillette’s awful gowns provided so much fabric for you to bury yourself in.

“Mistress prisoner? Are you alright?”

Another knock, a round of hushed whispering. Clearly, he’d sent more than one, this time.

“Should we get a healer for you, mistress?”

You swore under your breath, burying your face in your knees. Curse your bleeding heart.

Slowly, taking pains to wipe the lingering tears from your cheeks without wrinkling the fine silk of your sleeve, you pushed yourself to your feet. He was a bastard of a man, an underhanded thief masquerading as the living embodiment of justice, but tragically, Neuvillette had caught on to the only weakness you had in this palace of unearned punishments and hollow promises. You would be able to bear it if he thought of you as a petulant child, too stubborn to accept his protection or his love, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be quite so heartless when it came to the melusines.

You pulled the door open, resting your shoulder against the frame. He’d sent three, this time – all wearing modified garde uniforms and none standing taller than your waist. They were clustered close together, but as you emerged, the centermost girl stepped forward, this one totting pastel pink skin and curling horns and cheeks you’d give anything to squeeze. “We spoke with Monsieur Neuvillette,” she started, clearly shy despite having appointed herself as the leader of their little group. When she paused, her gaze fell away from yours, dropping to her feet. “He said you wouldn’t mind if we asked why you don’t want to attend the opera with us, tonight.”

Oh, you were going to throttle that old man.

You forced yourself to smile. No part of you wanted to be seen in public with your captor, to hear onlookers praise his kindness, his willingness to care for even the most irredeemable of criminals while knowing he wouldn’t make it past the first aria before finding some reason to pull you into some unused dressing room and abuse his authority yet again. But, explaining the length of your hatred to the creatures he showed so much fondness toward would be like trying to tell a child that their favorite candy was the source of their aching cavities. You were better off saving your breath. “Neuvillette didn’t mention that you’d be coming with us.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise.” It was the blue one, this time – with flowers dotted across her arms and legs and a tone so meek, it was all you could do not to take her into your arms and promise her that you’d go to as many operas as she could stand to attend. “He said it’d help to raise your spirits.”

You let out a soft coo, crouching down to their height. “It was a very sweet idea,” you said, fighting not to melt at the sight of their little, doe-like noses and big, star-filled eyes. “And I very much appreciate that you three would care enough to try and cheer me up. It’s only…”

You paused, clicked your tongue. Predictably, the third member of their little trio (who had yet to uncross her arms or drop her adorably pointed glare) chimed in. “What is it? We don’t have all day, y’know.”

“Well, I might not be at my best, but Monsieur Neuvillette’s been awfully lonely lately too.” Lonely – that was one way to put it. It was hard to imagine he’d even be capable of feeling anything so fundamentally human. “I’m afraid, if I’m having so much fun with all of you, he might feel a little left out. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to do that to him, can’t you?”

There was a round of nodding heads, of words of affirmation. The leader piped up first, both hands balled into fists and wide eyes bright with a resilient spark. “We won’t let Monsieur Neuvillette get lonely!”

“We won’t leave his side!”

“We’ll stick to him like glue!”

With a breath of a laugh, you pulled the little trio into your arms and press a kiss into the tops of their heads. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, girls. I’ll see you at the opera house tonight, and remember–“

This time, you didn’t have to fake your smile.

“Don’t let Neuvillette go a moment without your delightful company.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x you #neuvilette x reader #yandere neuvillette #yanderecore #yancore

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chelseeebe · 6 months

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just wanna (get with you).

okkkk i promise i am not neglecting promise (i am) but i just had to get this out before the thought left my mind. this is just to say nancy wheeler i love you and i’m sorry

18+. smut. steve is an adulterer. but it’s okieee bc it’s hot <3

this is very much richboy!steve, he is very cocky and brash and very much not afraid of it

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

you had prepared to spend thanksgiving break alone in your room, honestly quite happy not to have to go home and deal with your car crash of a family.

that was until stacy had caught wind of your lonely plans and interjected, offering you an invite to her family’s massive home. now, it’d be rude not to accept, right?

you totally weren’t influenced by the fact that her older brother would definitely be there, not at all.

the drive up was a long slog, hours until you ended up in the middle of buttfuck indiana. it’s not somewhere you ever envisioned yourself spending the holidays but she had ensured that it was nice enough. her parents were.. interesting but as you were there, they’d probably at least try to keep up appearances. there wasn’t much else going on but in this tiny town but it gave you a chance to relax and ogle her brother.

their house is huge, like, ridiculously big. much bigger than their small family needed. from what stacy has confided in you, you can gather that her parents are hardly even home. they like to make a big deal about holidays to give the impression of a well put together family but if anything, they’re on the brink of divorce and only holding it together for the fear of being seen as failures.

not that your family are much better, but at least they don’t pretend to like eachother.

steve is up at the door the moment stacy unlocks it, waiting to see which of her sorority friends she’d decided to bring along.

he grins the second he sees you, taking your bag out of your hand and introducing himself before you can even begin to speak. not that you mind.

‘leave her alone, steve,’ stacy warns, rolling her eyes as she begins up the stairs, motioning for you to follow.

‘why don’t you leave me alone? i’m just being a good host, isn’t that right?’ he smiles at you, lugging your bag up the extravagant staircase and toward the room you’ve been assigned.

it’s not as if there’s a lack of them, a multitude of white doors that probably sat empty. it’s incredible how a house could cost so much and yet lack character despite the ample space to decorate.

she shoves him out of the way the second you make it into the room, ‘don’t you have anything better to do?’

‘uh uh,’ he’s smirking now and it’s making your heart feel funny. it’s wrong, totally wrong. but you can’t help it.

when he’d appeared on move in day you’d been star struck, his caramel coloured hair flopping into his eyes and the way his t-shirt clung to his arms had caught you immediately.

you and the rest of the girls in the house, obviously.

‘well go and find something to do you fucking loser,’ pushing him out of the door and slamming it in his face.

you couldn’t exactly tell her that it was fine and actually you preferred if he stayed.. so you grin and give her a fake chuckle, looking around at the room you were to call home for the next week.

‘i’m sorry,’ she sighs, ‘ignore him.. he’s just like that,’ walking over to the pristine bed. it obviously hadn’t been slept in for a while, you don’t doubt that they rarely have guests.

‘it’s okay,’ you smile, exhilarated for what this week will bring.

you don’t see much of the illusive mr. harrington, burrowed away in his office for most of the day with his wife busying around the kitchen, putting on an unnecessarily large spread each day. now you’re not a psychologist but even you can gather that she’s trying to make up for something.

stacy had bundled you into her room under the pretence of studying, both of you sat on her bed with neglected open books. opting to gossip about shit in your house rather than the looming finals.

steve knocks on the door and rushes in without waiting, standing in the doorway with a devilish grin. ‘mom’s drunk again.. you two wanna get out of here before it gets ugly?’ leaning against the doorframe.

he looks extra good today, his grey sweatpants sitting just right. you’re mindful to pull your eyes away when he nears the bed though his eyes never leave you.

‘like what?’ stacy frowns, sitting up and closing the untouched book.

‘i dunno..’ he shrugs, ‘i just don’t wanna be here when he gets back and she’s drunk again,’ fiddling with some trinket on stacy’s shelf.

you can tell that stacy’s not keen on the idea but she doesn’t want to be here for that scene either. you can empathise entirely, which is the exact reason you decided not to go home.

‘okay,’ she turns to you, ‘you okay with that?’

‘yeah.. sounds good,’ smiling at your friend. in your peripheral, you can see steve’s lips twitch into a smirk, cocky bastard.

much to your dismay, the three of you end up bowling. which you wouldn’t usually mind, but the alley was full to the brim with parents and their screaming children, running around the lanes hyped up on copious amounts of sugar.

not to mention the blaring christmas music that was entirely too loud for a tuesday afternoon.

‘you bowl much?’ steve scoots over on the bench, leaning in to whisper of the screeching kids.

‘not really,’ shaking your head innocently, ‘do you?’

‘yeah i’m alright.. i can teach you, if you want?’ ever the opportunist. who were you to deny him that?

‘okay,’ you giggle, blinking up at his chocolate coloured eyes.

it’s pathetic but your knees almost crumble when he walks up behind you, arms coming to envelope yours, large hands perched over yours as stacy tuts and turns away.

‘like this..’ his chest presses against your back, pulling your arm back and letting the ball roll down the lane.

you very nearly groan when he pulls away, hand lingering on your elbow as the pair of you watch the pins knock over. he smiles gently at you without even looking at the pins, he’s already sure he’d won.

‘thanks,’ you nod, keeping your own smile contained as you walk back to the bench, squishing in next to a less than impressed stacy. she’s not stupid but doesn’t dare to say anything and you’re grateful for that at least.

you watch steve take his turn, wondering how much longer you can feign incompetence to get him to touch you.

their house is quiet when you get back. eerily quiet. stacy and steve share a look before heading inside and you already know to prepare for the worst.

mr. harrington is sat facing the blank television, sipping on a small glass of what you presume is whiskey. the fire blazing in front of him, crackling loudly in the otherwise silent house.

‘your mother’s in bed,’ is all he says, refusing to turn around to face his children. he’s a stoic man at the best of times but seemed extra cold tonight. you don’t want to think about what had happened while you were out.

the atmosphere brings you crashing down out of your high, the loud bowling alley seemed like a dream compared to the moody room you stood in. at least your family were entertaining in all their madness. this was just depressing and you don’t have to wonder just why stacy is the way she is now.

steve slinks off upstairs without saying a word and stacy follows, head ducked down. they’ve probably been through this exact routine a hundred times before. you follow along silently, assuming that mr. harrington definitely didn’t want you hanging around downstairs.

before stacy slips away into her room, you grab onto her elbow, pulling her round to face you, ‘my mom drinks too.. i know what it’s like,’ offering some meek words of encouragement. it’s not a lot but you can empathise with the sinking feeling you know she’s feeling.

she gives you a small smile, pulling you in for a quick hug as the shower starts in the bathroom to your left. steve hadn’t hung around, disappearing before you even made it up the stairs.

‘night,’ you mutter before entering your own room.

there had been a tiny part of you that had hoped maybe tonight something would happen but with the scene downstairs and steve’s eagerness to get away, you doubt it.

there’s an almost silent knock at your door, if you were any sleepier, you would’ve missed it.

you know who it is.. what’s waiting on the other side of that door and for a second, you contemplate it. you could very easily turn over and drift off to sleep without ever finding out what could’ve been.. but, you’re not going to do that. not after you’d optimistically worn your best pajamas, dousing yourself in perfume before you had climbed into bed.

sliding out of the bed to open the door quietly and just as you expected, steve is on the other side with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

he doesn’t speak before stepping into the room, shutting the door gently as you stand expectantly before him. your heart is pounding, it’d jump out of your chest if it could.

‘steve,’ you barely whisper, ignoring the growing ache between your thighs. enthralled by the sheer tension in the room, it makes the air heavy, weighing on your shoulders as you practically pant at him.

in one quick move he’s stood in front of you, hands cradling your waist, confidence oozing off of his smile. his hair is still wet, falling onto his face perfectly. it’s almost cruel that someone could look so good so effortlessly.

‘i need you,’ he whispers, his spider-like lashes cascading a shadow over his face in the dull light. he’s so perfect it hurts.

you choose not to reply with words, hastily planting your lips on his, closing the minuscule gap between your bodies as your chest presses to his. you’re walked backwards towards the bed, the excitement is palpable, his hands barely able to contain themselves as they grip and squeeze your flesh.

steve falls backwards onto the bed, pulling you atop of him, clumsily readjusting your knees either side of his hips, gasping into his slack mouth when his grinds upwards, his already erect cock nudging against your core.

pulling your shirt over your head before reconnecting his lips to your jaw, planting hungry kisses to the exposed skin of your neck. this is everything you’ve dreamed of since you arrived, the feel of him desperately moving beneath you becoming entirely too much. you needed him now.

he shimmies his own sweatpants down his thighs, choosing boldly to not wear any underwear. he’s big. his cock springing up against his stomach, gazing down into the space between you, mouth hung open as he works your shorts down with his delicate fingers.

‘what?’ he hushes innocently as if he doesn’t already know. his hand leaves your thigh to wrap around the base of his dick, pumping his fist ever so slowly.

your eyes meet his again, feeling your cheeks flush as the corner of his mouth twitches. if he weren’t so hot, his cockiness would be sickening. but you’re not one to bend to the will of men, brushing off his nerve and instead moving to grip onto his shoulders, positioning yourself above his leaking cock.

‘i know what you sorority girls are like.. you don’t have to- fuck,’ his head rolling back as you lower yourself onto him, gasping quietly at the feeling of fullness that quickly overtakes every other sense.

your fingers clamp around his jaw, pulling his face back up to meet yours, ‘what was that?’ sighing through muffled moans as you begin to rut your hips.

you have him at your mercy, moving your hips antagonistically slow, relishing in the sight of his hooded eyes struggling to stay open, soft pants escaping his lips with every careful movement.

‘ho- shit,’ his fingernails leaving crescent moons into your hips and ass, desperate to cling onto your body in any way he can. guiding your body up and down with the palms of his hands.

‘shh,’ you mutter, connecting your lips to the corner of his mouth in an attempt to quiet his groans. as lavish as this house is, you can bet that it’s not soundproof.

‘you’re so.. fuck- faster baby,’ he whines into your mouth, unappreciative of the calm pace you had set. enjoying the fact that you now held the upper hand, but also acutely aware that the sounds of skin-on-skin are indisputable, paired with his grunts, you’d be caught out in a second.

‘nuhuh,’ shaking your head slightly, face pressed into his sharp jaw, hoping to stifle some of the noises come from your throat.

this is when steve decides he’s had enough, this was his house and if anyone had anything to say then they could. his arm snakes around your waist, holding you in place above him as his legs spread, heels digging into the mattress.

your lips connect once again, in a sloppy kiss that requires minimal effort as his hips begin to thrust up, punching against that soft, spongy spot deep within. and now you’re the one responsible for the too-loud moans, practically screaming into his mouth as his tongue slips into your open mouth. his smirk evident against your lips as his thrusts grow faster.

chasing the same high you can feel growing in the pits of your stomach. you’re not even kissing at this point, lips pressed against the stubble on his cheek as his grip tightens, low grunts rumbling into the minimal space between you with every thrust.

‘oh god,’ you mewl, the all too familiar twist in your gut as his hips begin to stutter, the sound of your bodies connecting was spurring both of you on. not caring about your volume level as you come crashing over the edge.

babbling his name over and over again as you clench around him, shoving your face into his neck as pleasure soars all the way down to your toes, the sensation overwhelming your poor fucked-out brain.

his hands paw at the doughy flesh of your ass, resigning his last bit of energy for his last thrusts, hot spurts of cum paint your walls. steve’s teeth graze against your bare shoulder, suppressing his almighty moan as you collapse into a heap on top of him.

you feel like jelly, unable to lift your head when he pulls out, allowing him to manhandle your body as he shuffles down the bed. you shift slightly, moving to the empty space beside him, reaching down for the blanket, desperate for some modesty despite the explicit scene this room had just witnessed.

that was everything you’d imagined it’d be and more.

‘jesus,’ he sniffs, relaxing into your bed as if he belonged there, ‘anyone ever told you how fucking good you feel?’ his arm reaching out to pull your body into his once more.

‘shut up,’ you mumble, still very much coming back to earth. trying not to get too comfortable with this arrangement but letting your leg slide between his.

his other hand flicks the tiny lamp off, leaving the room in complete darkness. toned arms coming to rest around your waist, chin resting against your head.

‘you can’t sleep in here,’ you warn, though you wouldn’t complain if he did.

‘why not? this is my house, i can sleep wherever i want,’ his fingertips dart around your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

you don’t argue, settling into your comfy position nestled into his side. it’s not long before sleep takes over as his fingers trace silly patterns into your back.

but you’re rudely awoken at stupid o’clock in the morning, the sun barely rising outside of the tiny window. steve’s grumbling, tapping softly on your shoulder.

‘i’ve gotta go,’ he whispers into your hair, pulling the blanket off of his body and onto yours.

you’re barely coherent enough to understand what he’s saying, nodding along absentmindedly as sleep negs to take over again. ever the gentleman, he places a kiss to your forehead before climbing out of bed and rushing out of the room.

he’s gone before you even wake up fully, not registering what had happened until you wake up again, this time at a more appropriate hour.

it’s only then that fear takes over. had you misjudged how loud you were? what if someone had heard? there’s no way they’d turf you out on thanksgiving.. would they?

yet all seems normal when you slink downstairs, joining stacy at the table as she butters toast without a word to be said about your antics. you pray to every being above that you had gone undetected.

‘morning sleepyhead,’ stacy utters, seemingly in a much better mood than the one you left her in last night, ‘sleep well?’

you stare at her for a moment, deciding if the question is loaded or if she’s genuinely interested in how you slept.

‘yeah.. really good, you?’ testing the waters.

‘yeah not bad,’ she smiles, a genuine smile that allows you to release the breath you didn’t know you were even holding.

phew. you were safe.

‘it’s about to get uh.. tense today so, we can just hang out in my room until dinner,’ she nods assuringly. you trust her, not wanting to bare witness to mr. harrington and his cryptic behaviour.

before you can reply, the front door opens and a small brunette walks in with steve trailing closely. behind her, carrying what looks like a suitcase with the most displeased look plastered on his face.

the woman hangs her coat on the hook, flashing a quick wave towards the kitchen where you sat gawping before heading upstairs quickly.

from here, she looked like a cousin or something, someone you hadn’t been told was attending.

she’s pretty, gorgeous eyes and a polite smile that makes you want to smile.

‘who’s that?’ you ask, perplexed at the sight of this stranger who is obviously so comfortable in their home.

‘oh, that’s nancy,’ stacy continues with her toast, not at all bothered by the new arrival.

‘she’s steve’s fiancée.’

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst

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jazzsonly · 7 months

Text

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ

pairing(s): tara carpenter x fem!reader

warning(s): angst. tara being a bad gf and overall MAJOR asshole. lowkey bloody description of heart break. barely proofread. ooc tara.

summary: oh the things you did just so you could call tara yours.

*inspo. song: favorite crime by olivia rodrigo

part two.

────────✬────────

when you first started dating tara (six months ago) you loved nothing more than how caring she was. she stood up for you when there was a chance to(no matter how silly,) she jumped at the chance to walk you to your car, she would constantly beg for you to stay over, and so on and so.

you also just adored her nerd obsession with horror movies, no matter your distaste for them, she somehow made you love them too in a weird.

in short, you just loved tara as a whole…back then.

now? you still love her but it was a bitter love.

feeling like you couldn’t even recognize your own girlfriend was a hurt of it’s own. after the ghostface attacks, it was like tara, well wasn’t even tara. she were constantly drunk, you feel like the only time you ever got a hold of her was when she called drunk out of her at some frat party needing a ride.

she no longer attended your dates, didn’t want you to stay over, oh and the constant arguing. mostly her accusing you of things and claims you to be clingy when you wanted to spend time together.

one night it got so bad, she were just yelling at you while you cried, feeling so small. sam had to step in and stop the girl before she yelled you to death.

despite all that, here you were settled on the couch and ready for movie night with the core four. as much as you loved them, no doubt that they were your second family. you couldn’t help but feel lonely in the moment.

nearing the end of jeeper’s kreepers and tara had neglected to sit next to you the whole night. in fact, she were seated with amber, her head leaning on the girl’s shoulder.

nothing but bitterness filled your mouth at the sight and the feeling.

sure you had chad and sam by your side but obviously you want your girlfriend by your side to cuddle with.

“that movie never gets old. a straight classic.” chad commenting while he stood as the credits rolled.

“facts.” amber then spoke, standing with the boy.

you stayed put while everyone piled to the kitchen for dinner, hoping tara would stay with you.

“tara.” you spoke meekly, almost afraid.

“what?” she was on her way to the kitchen as well.

“why didn’t you sit with me?” you watch as her hands coming to her hand, a big sigh, and an ‘oh my god’ under her breath.

“can you please not start tonight? i want to enjoy one night without you being a bitch.”

“tara, i’m not being a bitch. i just want to know why my girlfriend didn’t sit with me, but yet is cuddled with another girl.”

“okay, one i was not ‘cuddled’ with amber and two maybe i just didn’t feel like sitting with you, is it your abandonment issues? is that why you’re so fucking clingy?”

so much for opening up to her about your mom. you thought at the girl’s comment.

your leg bounced up and down, she were starting to raise her voice and the last thing you wanted to do was argue in front of your friends. it was embarrassing enough for it to happen in front of sam.

“nevermind.” you swallow a lump in your throat, trying to join the others but tara grabs to your wrist.

“no. you wanted to fucking complain so bad and ruin my life! you are such a fucking burden y/n. do you know that? you make me hate everyday with your shit and i’m sick of it.”

you intense chew on your lip, stopping the tears.

“well if that’s how you feel…”

“that is how i feel.” she threw your wrist down, walking by you as if she didn’t just shatter your soul.

you walk past the kitchen, uttering on about how you were heading to the bathroom.

somehow, with any strength you had left in you, you didn’t cry. you took a few deep breaths, repeating:

don’t cry.

before stepping out, to finally join the others.

as much as you wanted to laugh and be in conversation with everyone, you couldn’t. your mind wouldn’t allow you. all you could think about was tara.

why? why was she doing this me? why? when she claimed to love me much and to be in love?

how could she be doing this me?

who even was she?

it was like a shotgun to the heart, your blood and your heart, in pieces all over the wall and you couldn’t do anything but watch it splatter.

“y/n?”

you look to chad, “huh?”

“you okay? you’ve barely said anything?”

“yeah,” you clear your throat. “i’m good. i just don’t thinking i’m feeling too well, i should head home.”

despite sam offering you to stay, you declined and bid your goodbyes to everyone, well, besides chad who offered to walk you to your car.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, be good.” you joke, pulling the jock into a hug.

“yeah uh…listen, i heard all tara said to you and—

“it’s nothing…it’s fine, she’s just going through stuff.”

he paused, looking at you for a second. “that’s no excuse for what she said to you, y/n. she talked to you like she didn’t even know you. you shouldn’t let someone treat you like that…no matter how much you love them.”

“we’re all going through it, including you. trying to watch our backs for ghostface, even if things have died down a little, it’s still scary knowing he’s out there. so please take care of yourself, i love you. you’re my best friend…i don’t want to see you hurt…especially not from tara.”

you weren’t really sure want to say to the boy, of course you meekly told him you loved him too, pulling him into yet another hug. this time tighter and longer.

for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt loved. it may not have been from who you wanted it to be but still you felt loved.

you settled in your car, locking your door. you couldn’t help but break down, you felt so many intense emotions at once, you thought you could hold them in but chad’s speech brought them out.

✬

needles to say, you clung to chad every movie night for the past couple of weeks. it turned from best friend to a big brother to you.

he even took you out to breakfast, listening to you rant about tara and her ruthless nonsense. though he was a bit of an airhead, he gave you advice to the best of his knowledge on relationships. you didn’t take it, knowing it were no good.

the last time he actually dated a girl not just fucked one was in second grade. you still appreciated the attempt though.

tonight was yet again another movie night and you happily took the seat next to chad, who mindlessly put his arm around you.

“uhm, i was kind of hoping to sit with y/n?”

you had to make sure you weren’t dream.

tara wanted to sit next to you? you guys have barely spoken in two weeks. all it’s been is good morning text tara didn’t respond to until mid noon.

chad looked at you for approved and you gave him a timid nod. that’s all it took for him to give his seat up.

tara proudly put her arm over you, like chad had, taking you by surprise again. as much as you wanted to ask, you didn’t. you couldn’t risk ruining this sudden surge of affection.

the sudden surge of affection that lasted half way through the movie, until tara whispered in your ear.

“you think you’re so slick? fucking my best friend behind my back.” and there it was. you could smell a hint of alcohol on her breath.

thanks amber, for getting the parton. you sarcastically thought.

as best as you tried to ignore her, once again not wanting to argue in front of everyone. you couldn’t ignore tara repeatedly calling you a whore in your ear.

“slutting yourself out all because i don’t wanna go on a date with you.” and that’s when you broke.

you abruptly stood up, “enough tara.”

everyone’s eyes on you but you didn’t care. you had the courage chad had handed you and you couldn’t waste it.

“you hate me so much? you think i’m a whore? fine. i’ll be that and nothing to you at all. i’m done and so are we.”

— part two?

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter #mindy meeks martin #amber freeman #ethan landry #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin #scream six #ghostface #jenna ortega

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tadpolesonalgae · 7 months

Text

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader: Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 5

A/N: I’m trying something new here—been reading The Shining by Steven King and I like how the “thoughts” are presented :)

Warnings: general angst

Word count: 5,414

-Part 4- -Part 6-

Sharp, caramel eyes latch to your own from across the room.

Beneath his fingertips rest the planets of your solar system, whirring softly as they rotate, cogs clicking together. Your orrery.

Shoulders tense—it’s fine machinery, incredibly delicate. You don’t like the idea of him being so close to something so dear to you. He hasn’t proven to be particularly caring, or thoughtful. Anxiety closes around your throat. “Eris,” you greet, moving forward stiffly. “What are you doing here?” Why is he in the House of Wind, in the heart of the Night Court. Why is he in Velaris.

He taps against your world, the mechanical clicking coming to a stop, the system halting to his will. Retracts his hand. “You’re really kept out of the loop, aren’t you?” He asks, eyes gleaming, fingertips grazing the blade at his hip. Your brow narrows, “that’s not an answer.” You eye him warily, how close he is to that precious gift your sister had given you.

Lips lift into that familiar viper’s smile, “I’m here to have a meeting with your High Lord and Lady. I’m surprised they didn’t tell you. Surprised too you’re allowed near me at all after our last encounter—do they not particularly mind your safety?” He inquires, moving around the kitchen table. You shift in response, mirroring his movements, the opening steps to a dance you’re uninterested in.

“I live here,” you counter, “why should I yield my ground to you. It’s my home.” He quirks a neatly groomed brow, taking another step around the table, so you’ve switched positions. “You don’t live with the rest of your lovely family? Your younger sister has a home deeper within this city, but you choose to stay here, in this lonely place?”

“It’s my home,” you repeat, “and I like the quiet. Can you understand that?”

Eris’ brow narrows at the perceived insult, and you move closer to the table, to your orrery. “What sort of nonsense question is that?” He asks sharply.

“You live in a palace, don’t you? Big; spacious? Filled with people and riches?” You ask, narrowing your eyes on the male. His lips quirk, “more riches than you can even comprehend.” Eyes run over you, judgementally, “more beauty, too.”

“Filled with people, I’ll bet,” you say, ignoring the comment with practiced ease. At least Azriel’s helped with desensitising you to such things. “Servants, courtiers, maids. Does your home— Does your father’s palace ever sleep? Do you ever get any peace?”

“If you’re prying to see if there’s a single moment I might be vulnerable to an assassination attempt, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. There isn’t a single person who steps foot in my palace without authorisation.” He replies smoothly, caramel eyes gleaming.

Your lips tilt quietly, “what a lovely cage you live in, Eris.”

He stiffens, then his mouth twists itself into something resembling a smile—too serpentine. “Is this your preferred battleground? Verbal warfare? You’re quite talented at it.” You don’t mistake it for a compliment. “Tell me: which of them taught you to speak like that?”

Your brow dips in confusion. “It’s not warfare—It’s observation. There’s nothing aggressive about it.”

“No? No animosity in your prying? I could have sworn I detected a bite back by the river. Where have your claws gone? Were they clipped just like the hell-cat’s were?” He smiles—unnerving to be faced with it. “Bring them out. We can have ourselves a sparring match.” A hand raises in mocking challenge, beckoning you forward.

Hairs raise at the back of your neck, skin prickling with that itch that lies just below the scratch of your nails. Burning your fingertips. Dangerous. Manipulative. Manipulative.

“And where did you learn?” You fire back. “Who taught you to be so insidious? Or do you know no different?”

Caramel burns into you, charring your insides. “An answer for an answer.”

He’s got you. Knows you won’t rise to his challenge. So you switch methods.

Eyes flick down to the machinery on the table, “it’s very beautiful, isn’t it?”

If he’s caught off guard, he doesn’t show it. Well-accustomed to being on the constant edge. “A waste of time. The tinkerer has simply welded a few cogs and screws together—basic metal work.”

Your gaze rises to his, a hint of amusement within as you take a seat to better peer at the orrery. “You’re trying so hard to make it seem insignificant, yet you were studying our planet, so you’re clearly familiar with its structure.” Fingertips graze across the gilded metal of the sphere, the only one occupying the habitable zone. “I doubt you’ll answer my question, so I can only presume you’re used to hiding your interests.”

“Presume away,” he drawls, “it’s no bother to me.”

“No bother,” you echo, spinning the orrery, cogs ticking, globes rotating smoothly. “You hide like there’s something to be embarrassed about. What’s wrong with being fascinated by the world?” You play with the system, again falling under its spell, admiring the intricate carvings, how the tinkerer has rendered texture into metal—made it appear soft.

“You speak as if you’re knowledgeable of it. How much can you know having only spent two years in our land, feeding off our history?” He counters, stepping toward the table, eyes flicking carelessly over the mechanism. With forced lightness. Your brow furrows as you peer at him, “what’s the meaning of having endless time to discover if you don’t use it? I know about the world because I’ve read about it, and I’ve read about it because I want to know. Two years isn’t long to study something as vast as this, but unlike you, I have time to myself, to do things for myself that I want. And this—” you gesture to the small solar system, “—is what I’m interested in.”

The corners of Eris’ mouth tilt down, stepping finally closer to the table, as if accepting a conversation is inevitable. “And you think it is wise to invest your time in something as academic as this? You think you’ll be allowed to study it? Pursue your interest in it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You counter, absently tracing the rings of one of the planets—how beautiful they are! “I’m immortal now. Why shouldn’t I spend it doing things I like? Not all of us want to be sour and miserable.”

His lips quirk, “you maybe immortal, but you’re also detrimentally female. If you think your sex will not be an obstacle in your study, then you’re much more naive than I thought.”

Your brow dips, “and you’re awfully cynical. The library is filled with books, and is run by females, so no—I don’t think my sex will be an obstacle,” you snap. Take a breath in. He’s good at getting under your skin. You have to remember that’s his game. And you can’t fall for it. Otherwise Azriel will be right.

Eris opens his mouth, and you just know you don’t want to hear whatever rubbish he’s about to spit out. So you divert by returning to your wonderful orrery, “if you had to choose between these two planets to stand on for five minutes—” you point to the globes either side of your own, “—which would you go for? Air shortage aside?”

He rolls his eyes, irritated. “I do not have an interest in your childish device, and I did not come here to be lectured on how great the world is, nor anything beyond it. I have much more pressing things to concern myself with. The fact alone you choose to entertain yourself with knowledge that will never impact anyone is proof of your naiveté.”

You ignore the jab, even if it scratches its nails down your mental walls. “If you set foot on this one—” point to the one further from the centre, “—you would be crushed in seconds. Do you know why?”

The viper’s smile again, “as I have already said, I have no childish infatuation with things beyond my control. You’re wasting your time.”

“This planet,” you carry on, pointedly ignoring him, “spins nearly five times faster than our own, meaning gravity—the stuff that holds us to the—”

“I know what gravity is,” he snaps, fire lighting in his eyes.

You blink, startled by the outburst. He watches you silently. Doesn’t make a move to interrupt you again.

“Meaning the gravity,” you say slowly, waiting for him to jump again. He doesn’t. “…is stronger.” You blink again, but he makes no comment. “As a result, the days there last mere hours. How can that not fascinate you? How many other quirks are out there? Even limiting it to our own planet?”

His caramel eyes narrow. “Careful,” he warns. “People have been put to death for talking as you are.”

You look at him, confused. “People in your court? Why on earth would anyone be killed for this?”

“Regardless of court,” he drawls, as if it’s obvious. “For suggesting something other than the Mother. On grounds of blasphemy. The study of science is inherently rooted against her.”

Eyes widen as you stare at him.

“Is that what’s stopping you?” You ask, incredulously. “You’re a favoured heir to the throne, aren’t you? What good is that title if you’re unable to benefit from it?”

His brow narrows, “there are infinite ways I benefit from it. If you’re too ignorant to figure them out, then it speaks volumes to your wisdom.”

You ignore that, pushing forward. “But Rhys has one in his study—an orrery. It can’t be that serious?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re doubting yourself. “Is it?”

“Hasn’t your sister witnessed first-hand how selective the world can be in who it favours? Did you not listen when I told you your sex would present difficulties?” He says sharply. “If you’re set on remaining ignorant, I see no point in continuing this conversation.”

Spine straightens as you stare at him, surprised.

“If I don’t know something, then explain it to me,” you say quietly. “How can I learn if I don’t know where I’m lacking?”

“It is not my responsibility to educate you,” he snaps. “Neither my responsibility to entertain you with conversation. If you prove to be dull, I have no reason to waste my time on you.”

“I agree it’s not your responsibility to educate me,” you say, frowning, “but if you have knowledge of something I don’t, and refuse to share it, how can you stand there and remain irritated with me? When you have the ability to change that?”

Eris’ lips twist again. “Like I said: it’s a waste of time.”

Your brows curve in frustration and disappointment. “You’d rather allow your irritation to fester than do something to prevent it? If you have a problem, and the means to repair it, but choose not to… Well, it speaks volumes to what sort of High Lord you might be.” As soon as the title leaves your tongue, it smacks back into you, the weight registering in your mind. The male before you really might become High Lord—inherit the power and responsibility that comes with it.

He’ll become responsible for his whole Court—yet prefers inactivity when faced with a problem that does not directly impact him.

“Why spend my energy on something so useless? You are only one person—why should I waste my breath? You clearly have no concept of how important and limited time is to someone in my position, in spite of immortality,” he states coldly, caramel darkening to something icy. “I prioritise matters I deem to be important; you waste your time flicking through old books that would better serve a fire.”

“I’m wasting my time on something I love.” You reply sharply, skin itching again, prickling at your fingertips. Sick of having it looked down on. Of being looked down on.

Lips twist in a faint, serpentine smile, eyes gleaming with predatory focus. He descends into the seat opposite you, moving with the grace of a spider, spiralling down into the centre of his web to meet his prey. Suck it dry; liquidate its insides. “Now that piques my interest.”

You don’t need to look down to know the colour your skin has changed to. You do anyway, eyes widening as you take in the faint, radiant green of your fingertips. You stare silently, noting the iridescence.

“I gather my brother’s mate is a seer, while the hell-cat yielded her power,” his smile is one crafted from centuries of cultivated misery, sharp edges created to keep himself safe. Carving his own bones into weaponry. “Could Rhysand have kept you secret because you have no control over it? Even after all this time?”

You bite down on the fear—it’s the second time it’s sparked up in broad daylight. Out in the open. Where anyone can see. “So persistent with the theory of secrecy,” you manage, voice coming out smooth, for the most part. “Maybe you didn’t know, because my power is nothing. It doesn’t heal, doesn’t hurt—nothing besides a dim light in the dark. It’s utterly useless.”

Eris doesn’t look convinced. “The cauldron wouldn’t give you a meaningless power. You haven’t tried hard enough.”

“Why is it so unbelievable?” You counter, in a hurry to end the conversation so you can return to the cover of your room. “Elain is the only one gifted with a real power. Nesta—” Are you allowed to tell him? He already knows she yielded it, so you see no point in hiding it. “Nesta took something. Ripped it away from the cauldron. Why would I be given anything meaningful?” You ask, and see the interest drain from his eyes. “Out of the four of us, Elain’s the only one with a working power.”

“And that’s why you’ve had so much time to yourself,” he drawls, malice again swimming in his whiskey eyes. “No training to do, nothing useful to preoccupy yourself with. Just steadily draining resources, and researching nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense,” you fire back weakly. “And it’s not heresy either. —nor blasphemy, or whatever name you want to give it to try and convince me it’s wrong.”

His eyes harden, “it denies the power of the Mother. Everything was made when she tipped out the cauldron. Science seeks to disprove that.”

“It shows the beauty of the world!” You insist, vaguely aware of the colour growing more intense as you press your hands into the surface of the table, rising to your feet. “It shows how intricate, and delicately woven it is! The only thing it does is prove there is something out there. How can you look up into the night sky, or gaze across the world, filled with magic, and life, and think any other way?” You argue, pushing the orrery across the table. “There are patterns in our world. Strange, and wonderful patterns, if you know how to spot them. The perfect rotations of our world around the great star, how everything intertwines with one another, like those cogs and screws you were trying to make light of. How can a world be so intricately faceted by chance? There has to be a designer—a creator. The one who set everything in motion to become as it is now.”

Your heart spikes as you think about it—how great she must be. The vastness of her capabilities.

“Science does not deny the existence of the Mother—it allows us to study the depth of her. Or something close to it.”

Eris’ eyes flick down to the solar system that you’ve pushed between his hands—now studying the details. His attention drags back up to you, noting how your pupils have dilated, heart beating quickly, nails digging into the surface of the table, gleaming with iridescence. A slow smile as he makes the connection between your emotions and the glow.

It would be a shame to tell you.

He’ll watch you figure it out for yourself—even if you have to stumble your way to the end.

“You’re skilled with words,” he says at last. “Has anyone told you that?”

You regard him silently, a little taken aback. Almost exhausted from the output of energy. Who knew it could be so tiring sharing an interest. How draining excitement is. “You’re just saying that,” you murmur quietly, fatigue weighing on your tongue from the outburst. You know he’s manipulative. You won’t fall for it.

His smile grows a little wider, into something vaguely normal. “You might even have avoided execution with a speech like that.”

Strangely, it doesn’t feel like he’s lying. It’s not much to go off, not much to rely on. He’s had centuries to perfect this act, would be flawless at it by now. And yet…

And yet. It’s enough for you to believe him. Trust your gut, and it’s telling you he’s being sincere.

Strange indeed.

————

Mor had interrupted almost immediately after, making you spring back from the table, seeing her blonde head appear in the kitchen, eyes hard when they landed on the Autumn Court male.

She’d promptly whisked him away to whichever room they were having their meeting in, and you’d hastily tucked your hands at your back, concealing glowing fingertips from her sharp gaze. You’d hated yourself a little in that moment, for hiding it from her. For not being brave enough to face them head on.

It was nothing compared to the sharp, stabbing laceration in your gut when Eris noted the movement. Offered you a slow, vulpine smile.

It’s been days since then, and every step seems to echo your doom. Every footfall in the hallway, every chirp of voices—you’re convinced they know. Because how much longer is he going to keep it a secret? How long before he asks something from you? Something you can’t give, because you don’t have access to them. To any of them. Not in the way he would like.

A series of knocks is landed to you door, and the book slides from your hands. Yelp when it nearly hits your foot. Feyre really needs to start walking a little louder so things like that don’t happen. You sigh heavily.

“Come in,” you call, hastily collecting up the book, plonking it down atop the precarious stack at your bedside. A small gust of dust motes shoot out from the pages, and you cough, turning to the window. Opening it to invite in the crisp, midday air. Open the curtains a little wider, too.

You turn to face her, here probably to ask you to another dinner. It’s been nearly a fortnight since the last one, when Elain had invited you to the…mortal lands. You really don’t know what to call that part, now.

Hazel cuts into you, air catches in your lungs—maybe it’s the dust.

You stare. Stare, and stare, but he doesn’t morph, or transfigure into your sister. Shadows crawl at his feet, slink over his wings, kept tight to his body. It’s strange to see him so tense.

“What are you…” you trail off, shaking your head slowly. “No.”

Azriel’s mouth purses. Remains in the doorway, not even one step away from the threshold. “We should— I would like to speak with you.” You stare longer; shake your head again.

(you are a proving to be a burden.)

“I don’t… No. I don’t want to,” you manage. “I’m in the middle of something right now.” His eyes flick about the room, and you shift to conceal the books at your bedside. “You don’t look busy,” he says slowly, aware how quickly things can turn sour. “That’s because I’m talking to you,” you reply, equally carefully.

He pauses, eyes once again scanning your room, then, “may I come in?”

Spine goes rigid; his pupils dilate. “I want to clear the air between us,” he supplies. “It would be better to do so in private.” He has a point. Feyre’s added a sound barrier to your room after the mess of last time, but… It’s midday, no one should be here. The only people who occasionally dip in are Elain and Feyre. Nesta doesn’t really…the two of you aren’t as close. “Okay,” you find yourself saying, dipping your head, “but I need to—” you gesture to the clothes on your floor. The general mess.

He nods, throat bobbing before he steps inside, the door clicking behind him as he keeps to the clear spaces on the floor. Few and far between.

You swallow, prying your tongue from the roof of your mouth. “What did you want to… Where do you want to start?” You ask, returning to the far end of your room to push the windows wider—as far as they can go. The breeze plays with strands of your hair, cleaning out the stuffy room, smelling slightly of mildew and parchment. Mostly dust, though.

“Your feelings for me…” he begins quietly, the words blaring throughout the room. “How long have you—”

“You know. Start somewhere else,” you interrupt, nails digging into the wooden frame, nudging the fabric of the curtains with your foot. He pauses, and you remain turned away from him, heart spiking. But he acquiesces.

“Okay…” he breathes heavily, followed by the faint stretch of leather as he folds his arms. Flexes his fingers before doing so. Still, you don’t look at him. “The talk with Eris.” It’s your turn to sigh, shifting on your feet to face him, wind blowing in gently from behind, soothing the heat between your shoulder blades, wrapping your cardigan a little tighter.

You don’t question how he knows about that short chat. Maybe Mor mentioned it—she’s the only one who saw, anyway. And you can’t imagine Azriel would have allowed it to go on that long if his shadows were aware. There’s a sour taste at the back of your throat.

“He just asked why I lived up here, instead of with the rest of you,” you mumble, scanning hastily for something to do. “I just said I liked the quiet, and that’s it.” Fingers grip the hem of a top, carrying it to your bed to fold away. The first of many.

Silence stretches between you, taut and tenuous. Hairs rise at the back of your neck, skin prickling.

“You didn’t mention that last time,” he says slowly, neutrally. Too controlled to be calm.

Your brows draw together. “I didn’t,” you confirm, picking up another top, folding it. It’s slightly out of place, the seams not lining up, and you redo it. Set it above the other. “Why not?” He asks tentatively. “It helps to know exactly things like that.” You stand straighter, looking at him—he does indeed have his arms crossed. Uncrosses them when you face him. Also straightens.

“We haven’t spoken since then,” you say slowly.

Eyes lock briefly when you both connect the dots.

“You’ve spoken with him since?” It’s phrased as a question, but…

Throat rolls, eyes turn away, body following shortly after, grabbing a pile of three garments. Set them on the bed. Hands moving like clockwork.

Head dips in confirmation.

Silence digs deeper. A shovel in a grave mound.

“When we had a meeting?” He asks, voice again taking on that controlled tone. Body coiled tight. Features neutral. “Yeah,” you murmur, “when you had that meeting.” Set the skirt atop the pile.

“And he asked why you live alone?” There’s an implication there. What is it? So many different angles to study it from—not a pleasing thought. “Not directly,” you mumble, “he said it was interesting I chose to live here when Feyre had a house deeper in the city. I think.”

“What you do you mean, you think?” He asks steadily, remaining statue-like in your peripherals.

“It was a few days ago,” you supply. “It didn’t stick with me.” That part didn’t, at least. He nods, reasoning it out in his head. Understandable.

“Was there anything else?” He asks instead. You know he marks the way your shoulders tense, even if you operate otherwise normally. “No,” you mumble, turning away from him, “nothing important.”

“We’ve been over this,” he reminds. “You don’t—…” Sighs. “Just tell me everything, and I’ll decide what’s important.” Why does this keep happening?

“You can’t trust him,” he adds gently, a touch softer than before.

You nod your head quickly, “I know.” Quiet reigns again, and he’s debating something. “Just say it,” you murmur, straightening the stack of books, skittish fingers fumbling with some of the loose papers. You should probably separate them out into a neater pile—they’ll only get more crinkled otherwise.

“I don’t want you to take it the wrong way,” he supplies carefully.

“Okay.” Nod once. “I won’t.”

Picture the way his throat rolls, fingers flex at his sides. “Do you really understand why you can’t trust him?”

You pick up a few books from the stack, depositing them on your desk, moving to sort through which ones can be returned to the library. Mentally cataloguing their numbers and titles that correlate with set aisles. “I do,” you say, seeing how that would have been misinterpreted. He does you the courtesy of not asking you to explain it. “So you understand why you have to be careful about what you say. What you let him know,” he reasons softly.

Something heavy settles in your gut at the reminder, but you keep your lips shut.

“Eris is a snake,” he continues. “I can’t stress enough how wary you should be around him. And certainly never by yourself.” Eyes briefly meet over that last part, then your own dart away, returning to organising the catastrophe on your desk. Shifting through papers and diagrams. Charts and catalogues. Star formations and little doodles. “If you give him something, he will find a way to use it. It’s imperative you never let him know anything important.” You look at him over your shoulder, temporarily removing your focus from the lovely books, “what counts as important?”

Azriel sighs, leans against the tall frame of your bed, one shoulder propped against it calmly. He looks relaxed—it’s intentional. A distortion to make things seem fine; to keep you calm.

He raises one hand, gestures between you and him. “Us,” he says, reluctantly. “Things like this—they’re private. Emotional problems, and squabbles or…complications,” he expands. “You can’t let him know about anything like that. If he thinks there’s weakness, or a rift he can exploit, he will.”

Breath catches in your chest, and you snap you attention off him, forcefully reattaching it to the books you’ve laid out. Which pile means what?

“I don’t…” you begin. Swallow. Unstick your tongue. “I don’t know about any of your relations. Within…within Rhys’…” You fumble, unsure how to describe them all.

(Us.)

“Family?” He supplies. “Within your family?”

“No,” you sigh. “Beyond my sisters. I don’t—…I mean, I don’t know what’s going on with Cassian, or Mor, or Amren, either. I don’t—… There’s nothing he can get from me.”

Azriel watches you silently, skin prickling beneath the weight of his focus. “They’re your family, too,” he says gently. Almost tenderly. “Not just Rhys’, or Feyre’s. You’re her older sister, so you’re a part of it all, too.”

(A single pair of pearl earrings.)

Hazel locks with your own, and you release a soft laugh, beams of amusements finally lighting your eyes, mirth building on your mouth. How long has it been since you’ve laughed because of him?

Azriel narrows his eyes, and the laughter dies on your tongue. “Oh.” The word whispers out on an exhale, subconsciously taking a step backward. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, “I thought—” You shake your head. “You’re just saying that.” He remains silent, watching you intently.

“They don’t—,” you fumble. Trying to find the words. “I mean, they—… We’re separate. Me, I mean. I’m not—”

“Yes you are.”

You shake your head, not accepting it. “You can’t expect me to believe that,” you mutter. “I’m not that naive.”

Azriel’s brow furrows. “Granted, you don’t make it easy. But you’re still part of it all.”

“So you—” You’re not sure if you can say it. “You don’t… You see me as family?”

It’s his turn to falter, coming up short. You shake your head in disbelief. “Azriel…”

His eyes narrow as he stares at you. Opens his mouth.

“Don’t,” you murmur. “Let’s just… Let’s stay on track.” Otherwise it’s going to get ugly.

(you are a proving to be a burden.)

Lower lip trembles; you bite it, turning your attention to your desk. He’s quiet for a few moments, and the energy begins to settle.

“Why does family bother you so much?” He asks, quietly.

Breath whooshes from your lungs, and you place both your palms flat on the desk, so tired. “Because,” you sigh, eyelids weighing heavy. Massage the bridge of your nose with both your middle and forth fingers. “The feelings I have for you…those don’t belong to a family member.” Shame heats your cheeks, fingers covering you eyes. How many times do you have to say it?

“Why do you insist on targeting everything I’m uncomfortable talking about?” You ask, softly, hands remaining over your features, muffling you. Because if you don’t divert, he’ll target that, too. “You did the same in the air,” you whisper, “you get hung up on these tiny points and you can’t let them go and it’s…” You don’t know.

“It’s what?” He asks, coldly. Lip trembles at the tone, pushing away the dampness, lowering your hands. “Why do you do it?”

“It’s my job to get the details right,” he replies.

(Is this your preferred battleground? Verbal warfare?)

“I’m not your job, Azriel.”

“You are when you run off and have unmonitored chats with that male.”

“Eris, or Bas?” You ask quietly.

(You’re quite talented at it.)

He falters, then his jaw ticks, the muscle feathering. “We’ll talk about Bas in a minute,” he says. “For now, we’re talking about how you behave around Eris.” You stare at him. Blink. “I don’t know how to make it clearer,” he continues, watching the ceiling, head tipped upward slightly. Eyes flick down, looking as though you’re below him.

Lowers his head.

“Eris prefers verbal warfare,” he begins, repeating the same old things he’s already told you. Fingertips begin to itch.

Hazel pierces into you, muscle in his jaw tensing. “He’s good at it, too. Good enough to make all of us wary. Doesn’t that show enough?”

(You’re skilled with words, has anyone told you that?)

“I got that impression.”

He nods, no more than a gentle dip of his chin. “That’s good,” he sighs. “It’s a good start.” Something twists in your gut at the words.

“Just don’t go near him,” Azriel continues, unaware of the numbness that’s slowly spreading down your back. “Okay.” Hands move automatically, and you watch distantly as they go.

He sighs, “so tell me what happened most recently. All of it. Then I can tell you what’s good and what’s not.”

“I don’t remember all of it,” you mumble.

Why are you so tired? It’s not the same fatigue as after talking with Eris. That was pleasant. Your mind was tired from working. Now… You’re just tired of resisting.

“You said he asked about you living alone,” he prompts. You want to go to bed. Want to close the curtains and crawl deep under the sheets.

You nod distantly. “And you said you liked the quiet.”

Nod again.

“So what happened after that?” He’s gotten quieter, sensing your disengagement.

You shrug weakly. “We just talked.”

“This is what I mean,” he says gently, attempting to soften the words that need to be said. “Eris doesn’t do idle chatter. You have to start understanding that.”

You shake your head, denying, “he didn’t ask anything else.”

“But you were talking?” He asks pointedly, doubt clear.

You go quiet. Shoulders slope.

Azriel sighs, standing upright. There’s no use talking to you like this.

“Let’s try this another time. When you’re more… When you’re feeling better.” He waits a little for a response. Feel the weight of his gaze on your hands. You don’t respond, and he dips his head in acknowledgement. Allowing your peace.

But still, when he leaves, you’re torn between crying, and wanting to run after him.

Nothing’s gotten better.

You still crave his attention, even though it’s begun to hurt.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter

CBMTHY Taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd @horneybeach1 @jeannineee @harrystylesfan2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @abysshaven @starlight-hope @stupidwingboy @nastynesta @luvmoo @furiousbooklover @kuraikei

#CBMTHY #Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You #CBMTHY Part 5 #Azriel #Azriel angst #Azriel x reader #Eris #Eris Vanserra #Azriel x reader angst #angst #acotar #multi part fic #series

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a-small-safe-place · 4 months

Text

His Haven Pt. 3

Part 1 Part 2

Homelander x Psychiatrist!Reader

Homelander had arrived at your office earlier than your usual meeting time. You had asked him to be there around an hour earlier than your scheduled session. He was putting on a fake smile; he was always good at that. Homelander thought he knew what was happening. You were dropping him as a client. You had to be. You had all but threatened it the last time he came to your house when he was desperate for someone to talk to or even just be around. When his reflection was saying things that were beyond harsh and his penthouse felt a little too empty. Even if you did drop him as a client, he didn’t plan on going anywhere, but it bothered him that you would have even tried.

Homelander stepped into the office without knocking, like he always did. He knew that bothered you, but he didn’t need to knock. It was obvious to him when someone else was in the room, and you would not be dumb enough to book someone over his time with you. He immediately noticed your heart beating faster and the stink of adrenaline all over your body. You were afraid. The smell of adrenaline was fresh, so that meant one thing: you were afraid of him.

Homelander took his seat across from you. You smiled a fake smile before asking, “How are you today?” He wanted to gripe about you, tell you that you had no reason to be afraid of him right now, tell you that even if you tried to drop him as a client, he wasn’t leaving. “Fine,” is all he says with an irritated tone. “What’s so important that I had to be here an hour before our meeting? You know I’m a busy man,” he scolds. Your heart rate spikes.

“Well, we’ve been having some issues with boundaries. Usually, I discuss these things in our first meeting, but since my contract with The Seven was a unique experience, I hadn’t bothered to have a boundaries talk with any of you, at least not an in-depth one.” After you finish talking, Homelander relaxes a bit. You weren’t trying to get rid of him. It was a relief. He figured since you were human; you probably didn’t notice the change in his demeanor, but in reality, it was a very noticeable change. He was like a feral cat finally calming down enough to eat or drink.

“Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries,” Homelander mocks a bit. “Is that all you doctors want to talk about? I thought you wanted to talk about me?”

“This is about you. It’s about both of us,” you counter. He stands back up and begins pacing a bit with his hands behind his back. “Look, we need to have boundaries. They are important. In our first session, I said that I am here for you, and I cannot be here for you if we have no boundaries. If these boundaries continue to be pressed, then I will recommend you to another psychiatrist, one that will be better suited to your needs.” It’s obvious this pisses him off enough that his mask drops. Homelander’s already thin lips flatten into a line of a scowl. At first, his eyes widen a bit, clearly shocked at your sudden assertiveness, but then narrowing somewhat out of anger. He is not looking at you. He’s looking in your direction but pointedly avoiding you or maybe looking through you. Homelander seems to be lost in thought or as if he has suddenly begun to disassociate.

“So you are dropping me?” he finally says. His voice is flat, and his eyes are somewhat glassy. “No. I am still your psychiatrist. We will just be working on our boundaries. It’s my fault. I should have discussed this with you the minute I realized we would be meeting regularly, and I should not have been so indulgent, but that stops now. We will both be good, okay? And you can continue to be my patient. But there will be no time for us outside of this office, and you will quit showing up at my house or following me home. I know you are lonely, but I cannot fill that loneliness as your psychiatrist. I can help you understand why you are having those feelings, but I cannot fix them.” You speak with a confidence that Homelander has never seen from you. He likes this attitude you have.

He ponders it for a moment before sitting back down. Homelander thinks he can make this work, for now. He will still get to see you and visit your house while you’re out. You’re still his. “Okay, I’ll behave,” Homelander says in a way that borders on pride and flirting. He feels somewhat proud of you for being so assertive with you, even if he’s not a huge fan of the outcome.

He knows you will come around eventually, and when you do, he will be waiting with a dinner reservation and the mirror on the ceiling of his bedroom freshly cleaned.

Tag list: @demodemo909 @misadventures0fdes

#the boys #homelander #homelander x reader #the seven #the boys fanfic #homelander fanfiction #reader x homelander #homelander x psychiatrist #psychiatrist!reader #male reader #fem!reader #gender neutral reader #homelander is so bbg #homelander x you #slow burn?#slow burn

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kikyan · 4 months

Text

Hellfire

Cw: Yandere content means Yandere content y’all, dub-con, stalking, obsessive behavior, abuse of power, Father/Priest! Rollo (AS IN PRIEST NOT INCEST), masturbation, body worship, oral (GN! Reader receiving), fingering, riding, religious themes, etc

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: Rollo x GN! Reader

Words: 9.5K

A/N: Everyone look at your calendars and do you see how in reality it isn’t a New Year but rather Halloween and this Halloween special is coming out on the day it was meant to and not almost 3 months later? Fantastic, moving on. . .enjoy :))

A/N2: I want to preface this by saying that this fic does have religion/religious themes. This is not an accurate portrayal either, so please do not come for me-! I did grow up catholic but in my teen years became a full atheist so anything said in this fic is me recalling my childhood. Also, I googled bible verses because I don’t remember any and they were all in Spanish so, yeah. . .enjoy! :))

The bells rang throughout Fleur City, signaling the start of Sunday mass. The crowd gathered, rushing to find any available seats to sit down on. Those unfortunate would have to stand, as they did not dare miss the mass. Father Rollo was an exceptional man, his voice and words rang throughout the church and captivated everyone who was blessed to be in his presence. He handled himself professionally, standing with an upright posture and his head was always looking ahead. He was truly a man befitting to be god's messenger. Fleur City was fortunate to have Father Rollo, he was a man adored by his people and [Reader] was no different. They were locked on Father Rollo who strutted with confidence,

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you”

His eyes locked with [Reader]. They broke away from his eyes but could still feel his piercing eyes on them.

“I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Cheers erupted from within the church the moment he finished his sentence. Mass was shortly concluded after the church staff asked for donations. Plenty of people offered whatever they could spare, but it was appreciated. The church was emptying but a few others stayed behind to have a few words with Father Rollo. [Reader] stayed seated but looked over at Father Rollo from the corner of their eye. He was attending to the people and their needs, he truly was a virtuous man. They averted their gaze when they saw Father Rollo turn to them. He bid goodbye to the troubled crowd. His heeled shoes echoed loudly through the emptying church, stopping in front of [Reader].

“[Reader], good morning. How have you been?”

“Oh. . good morning, Father Rollo. I’ve been well, how about you?”

“It has been a pleasant morning so far and I can only pray that it shall remain that way. Though I will say, it’s certainly comforting knowing you’re here. I did not see you anywhere last week.”

“R-Right. . .my apologies. It certainly wasn’t my intention to miss last week’s mass, but I’m afraid I did end up catching a cold. It has since passed and I feel quite better.”

“ You ought to take care of yourself, [Reader]. It would be a shame if something terrible happened to you. You are, after all, our number one devotee here at the Church. It would be rather quiet and lonely if you were to go.”

“Ha ha, it was only a cold Father Rollo, not the plague. I assure you, I am fine. Besides, I’m pretty strong enough to handle an illness.”

[Reader] returned a smile to Rollo, whose face remained expressionless, but his eyebrows furrowed upwards in un-amusement.

“That you are, you have God’s protection as one of his children. Alas, I must be off. Till next we meet, [Reader].”

Rollo turned around and left the main hall, leaving [Reader] alone. It was only for a split second, but he turned around to gaze at them again.

[Reader] was in love with Rollo. Their greatest sin that would be known to the dead once they passed. They remember their first meeting, plain as day, unlike that stormy night where this story takes place.

There was a storm and it was pouring. The kind that people were warned to stay indoors because of the severity, yet here [Reader] was running to the middle of the town where the church lay. Their face was coated in rainwater which made it almost impossible to keep their eyes open, they were struggling to breathe, and the cold that accompanied the storm did little to help. They were staggering over to the Church.

“[READER!] GET BACK HERE NOW AND I MIGHT FORGIVE YOU!”

Panic rose and they didn’t dare look back, for if they did, surely it would be their last. They didn’t dare scream for help, because they knew their cries would be drowned by the storm. They finally made it to the center, running up the stairs of the cathedral, and lunged to the door. No surprise that it was locked.

“[READER]! STOP!”

“L-LEAVE ME ALONE! SANCTUARY, PLEASE GIVE ME SANCTUARY!”

[Reader] pleaded and began to hit the doors with all their might. The person who was no doubt chasing after them continued their pursuit. They were approaching the steps and soon, close enough to reach out to [Reader]. Just in the nick of time, the door opened enough for [Reader] to throw themselves inside. They landed on the cold stone floors and used whatever strength they had to scramble away from the door. They looked up to see a skinny man with a pale face, green-blue eyes, dark bags under his eyes, and silver hair behind the door. He was adorned in an ankle-long robe and wore black-heeled loafers. His outfit certainly was nothing too fancy, then again it was the middle of the night.

“S-Sanctuary! P-please, give me sanctuary!”

“What seems to be the matter-!?”

The man turned to them but was cut from the person chasing after [Reader].

“[Reader]! C’mere, now.”

The anger in his voice disappeared but there was sternness laced in his request. The silver-haired man turned to the other person. The storm showered them, and the mud that they tracked in did not go unnoticed by the silver-haired man.

“Forgive me. My name is Rollo Flamme, I am one of the priests here. May I ask what seems to be the issue? I certainly did not expect there to be anyone leisuring out in the streets with the storm raging outside.”

The silver-haired man, now named ‘Rollo’, asked. Rollo turned to the person outside with an unamused expression.

“Father Rollo, pardon the intrusion. You see, that person over there is named [Reader], they're my partner. My partner also suffers from an unstable state of mind. It would be best if we returned-!?”

“Father Rollo, is everything alright?”

They all turned to look at an elderly woman who no doubt worked for the church. Rollo shook his head and the woman took it as a sign to approach the door.

“Everything is alright here, there is no need for the both of you to concern yourselves over our issues. Me and [Reader] would be taking our leave-!?”

“I think not. It would be against everything we stand for if we turned away someone who came to this holy place and asked for sanctuary. I apologize, but I’ll be asking for you to leave. Madam, take this one,”

Rollo turned to face [Reader],

“This one inside. Run them a warm bath and please get them a fresh set of clothes. As for you, sir. . please leave.”

[Reader’s] partner scoffed and stepped forward,

“I wouldn’t recommend that.”

He stopped after Rollo’s warning. Soon, others started to arrive within the church, including the guards. [Reader’s] partner glared at Rollo but decided against their actions. They just scoffed and went outside. The church’s door was shut and locked following his departure.

[Reader] had been sitting on the floor, trying to steady their breathing. Rollo walked over to them and helped them off their feet.

“You’re safe here in the house of God, he cannot hurt you any longer.”

Rollo then walked away, moving people to their station leaving [Reader] alone with the Madam.

“Come child, let’s get you out of those freezing clothes and into a warm bath.”

That was the first time they met Rollo.

Several weeks later, [Reader] was still within the church and assisting in any way they could. They would sometimes join the community in cleaning the church, making meals to provide during the holidays, and so forth. They were currently helping the volunteers make bread until Rollo arrived in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Father Rollo! How may we assist you?”

The elderly woman asked Rollo, who turned to face her.

“Good morning, Madam. I see you’re all hard at work assisting the church so I won’t take up too much of your time. May I speak with [Reader]?”

At the mention of their name, [Reader] perked up. The Madam turned to them and asked,

“Of course, is that alright?”

[Reader] nodded, dropping their task and washing their hands. They turned to look at Rollo who nodded,

“This way, please.”

Rollo led the way to his office and closed the door once they were both inside. He turned to them and offered the chair across from his.

“Sit, please. Good morning, [Reader]. How are you this morning?”

“Father Rollo. . .great. This morning has been great so far, busy but no complaints from me yet! How about yours?”

“Fine, busy as well but such is life as God’s servant. Now, I wanted to discuss some things with you. The man that pursued you when you arrived at our doorsteps, I presume you would be content knowing that he has since left the town. He is no longer residing in Fleur City.”

[Reader] let out a sigh of relief, since the day they arrived at the steps of the cathedral they have been residing within it. All housing was provided by the church as well as their meals. They weren’t expected to assist with the chores at the church, but they felt it was the least they could do. They would leave to go into town occasionally but always went with a guide or a guard in case anything happened. Rollo had made arrangements for them to avoid any further issues. They weren’t aware that their partner who had tormented them relentlessly had left the city or had any plans to.

“Thank you. . . Father Rollo. I appreciate you informing me.”

“ Of course, now that he has permanently left Fleur City we can arrange to get you a small place within the city. Don’t worry, if you still wish to assist the Church it will be nearby and the place will be within the guard's post. The area will be carefully monitored and maintained.”

“Father Rollo. . that’s too much. I appreciate all you have done since that day, but asking for my living quarters would be too much-!”

“Nonsense. You requested sanctuary from the church and since then, we have worked hard to provide that for you. It’s no trouble at all, you’re a precious child of God after all and he never abandons his children.”

Rollo faced [Reader] who was deep in thought. A place to stay without the haunting memories of their partner who could care less about them. [Reader] turned their gaze to Rollo and smiled,

“Thank you for your kindness, Father Rollo.”

From then, [Reader] had been living in the house provided by the church. Their place was warm and cozy, but most importantly, theirs. As days went by, [Reader] continued to attend weekly mass and stayed behind to help the community with events. Though Rollo was a well-known priest, he certainly wasn’t the only one present in the cathedral. The community had gotten together to thank the priests and were thinking of how to repay each one. The madam took the request and decided to host a small celebration for them with food and games for the community.

The entire town was invited to attend and they did, for there was no greater honor than celebrating their townsmen. Rollo stood in the center, overseeing the event rather than partaking in it like the other priests. He saw how his colleagues engaged with the town, his eyes were trained on them. They had no problem mingling with others and taking the front while Rollo chose to stay behind.

“Are you not enjoying yourself, Father Rollo?”

He turned to the voice, it was [Reader].

“I am, but conversing with others isn’t something I do quite well at. I leave that task, to the others. What about you, [Reader]?”

“Oh, I am as well. I too, don’t tend to mingle with others, at least not in events like this. It’s still taking me a while to adjust to being in control of my own life.”

Rollo spared a glance at [Reader] who sadly reminisced. Their partner would often take control of the conversation and not allow [Reader] to speak. They would often leave [Reader] in social gatherings to fend for themselves and never acknowledge their feelings. After a while and per their adored partner’s request, stopped leaving their shared home. This resulted in [Reader] self-isolating.

“I see. Often, just being in the company of someone you trust is more than enough at events like these. However I do hope that moving forward, we can heal from the past.”

Socializing wasn’t his strong suit; if he did, it was always formal and respectful. There was no time for jokes or silly banter, that is why Rollo helped Fleur City behind the scenes. He handled all formal matters while the others tended to the city with their words and charisma. Even now, his words of comfort were formal and didn’t properly convey his feelings.

“One day, I will join the crowd again and this time, maybe I can take you with me, Father Rollo. Oh, by the way, I have something for you.”

Rollo faced [Reader] who was looking into their pocket.

“Here! I know it doesn’t mean much and it’s certainly a very cheap gift, but I want to express my gratitude. Thank you for all that you’ve done, Father Rollo. Without you, I don’t think I would be here with the Madam and the Town, so thank you.”

He looked at his hands to see a wine-red handkerchief with purple embroidery on the outer edges, his name was woven into the corner. It was a simple gift really, but the difference with most gifts that he received was that this was hand-made. Handmade with love, love from the person that he cared the most about. Rollo stammered,

“T-Thank you, I shall keep this with me at all times. It’s lovely, [Reader].”

[Reader] turned to see his eyes gazing deeply at theirs. It was different, unlike a small expression of gratitude with professionalism laced Rollo’s eyes betrayed him. Behind his eyes, desire and love peeked through, even if it was for a split moment.

“Of course. . .my pleasure, Father Rollo.”

Rollo was called shortly after to attend to a matter within the cathedral, but before parting from [Reader], he promised he would return promptly. Rollo left and attended the matter fairly quickly, but before leaving to meet up with [Reader], he walked to his office. Locking the door, he took out the handkerchief and brought it up to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent from it.

‘[Reader]’

Rollo recalled the memory of when he first laid eyes on them. It wasn’t anything too special, he was just in town when he stumbled upon them. Rollo has observed throughout his life all the filth from others and their actions. [Reader] had remained a pure innocent soul devoid of any sins.

‘ Humans are sinful creatures and that is why we exist. . .’

Rollo had engraved that concept into his mind. There are 7 sins within mankind - pride, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, greed, and lust. Humans will lie, cheat, steal, manipulate, and take advantage of others for personal greed. In reality, society has failed itself and remains to be a stain on this world. [Reader] was a positive chum, but was a sight to behold in a world of sin.

Rollo was walking through town, which was a rare sight considering the only place you could glance at him would be in the cathedral. He noticed hidden behind a stall that there was a child, looking confused and scared.

‘ No doubt lost.’

Rollo thought to himself but did not step forward just yet. He recalled a conversation he had with the Madam, a woman whom he respected as she was not like the others either. She had devoted herself to the church and helping others after the passing of her husband. She would confess that no human was free of sin, but that didn’t mean that they were undeserving of God’s love and a place in his kingdom. It was silly, but he remembered what he told her after,

“You’re right Madam, everyone is worthy of God’s love. Though do not underestimate humanity’s free will, some of them choose to sin and relish in their filth.”

The madam shook her head and reminded Rollo that he should not be so quick to place judgment on others, but it was futile.

He recalled that memory as he saw the scene displayed in front of him, a defenseless child turning to adults begging for help. Those same ‘adults’ had brushed the child off and some even as far to push the child away.

“P-Please, I can’t find my mommy-”

“Not interested.”

“Stay clear of the road! Damn, brats. . .”

‘Are these the same people who deserve God’s love, Madam?’

Rollo began walking to the child but stopped when he noticed another individual walk up to the child,

“My name is [Reader], are you lost? Did you lose your parents?”

The child nodded and [Reader] lightly brushed the tears that were forming away,

“I see, well let me try to help you find them. When did you see them last?”

“I saw my mommy over there. . .”

The child pointed towards the growing crowd. In theory, this mother could be anywhere but if she was observant then no doubt she noticed her child missing. [Reader] nodded and held out their hand to the child, asking permission to hold their hand. The child allowed it, letting [Reader] lead them into the crowd. The child's grip tightened, afraid to lose their newfound savior. Rollo followed them, wanting to make sure that this child wasn’t going to be kidnapped. He saw how ‘[Reader]’ was holding onto the child and stopping in the area, asking the child if they saw their mother. When the child shook their head, [Reader] would begin calling out if someone lost their child. The town was busy and [Reader’s] cries were lost to the wind, but they did not lose their determination. After half an hour, Rollo heard a woman frantically calling out what was probably the child's name as the child perked up at the mention of it. [Reader] carefully maneuvered their way across the crowd to reunite the mother and child. Rollo witnessed the scene of the mother and child holding each other close, the mother turning to [Reader] and thanking them, and [Reader] reassuring them. Rollo scoffed, one person was not enough to persuade his mind that humanity was any different. It didn’t just stop there, weeks after the incident they had another run-in with them - at a distance, of course.

[Reader] was in the market with the intent of buying groceries, but instead offered to help the people at the stands. It was a never-ending cycle, when they finished their task another person went to them asking for help.

‘They’re a fool, they’re being taken advantage of by the others-’

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mind helping but I haven’t finished my shopping. When I finish and if you still need help I can come back.”

“Oh, I’m sorry [Reader], I didn’t mean to take up your time! It’s fine if you can’t, but thank you anyway.”

[Reader] politely excused themselves and finished their shopping. A couple of instances off the top of his head that Rollo remembered, [Reader] buying food for a beggar on the street, helping an elderly person cross the street, helping a cat out of their collar once they noticed it was choking from it, and when they helped stitch back up a child's toy once it was ruined. Rollo was getting irritated at this point,

‘Madam, I swear it’s like you enjoy tormenting me. . .are you trying to prove a point?’

The scowl written on his face was unwavering as he continued to observe this happy-go-lucky person. He managed to overhear the conversation between [Reader] and another person.

“You’re so nice [Reader], it’s so rare to find someone who cares about people the way you do!”

“You think so? I don’t think I am doing anything too grand, I just do what comes normal to me.”

“Yes! You have a heart of gold, I mean you offer to help when needed. You should be careful though, people out there would take advantage of that kindness.”

“Hm, I guess. I mean, I just do what I can but if it’s too much or something I can’t do I’m not opposed to saying no. I think a lot of people just think I’m too nice because they’re just used to being treated with little kindness. I don’t want to be a bystander if I can do something. I hold the door for people if they’re close and I’m not going to shut the door on them, it’s not like it takes too much time.”

“Aw, you’re so nice.”

“I don’t think so, I mean would you shut the door on me if I was behind you?”

“Well. . .”

“Then you’re just too mean.”

[Reader] and the person exchanged a laugh before parting ways. Rollo stood still and turned to see [Reader] back in the distance, leaving the marketplace. His resolve didn’t sway, humans were still corrupt and undeserving of salvation, the only difference now was that there was an exception. Rollo would be lying if he sometimes didn’t go into town to glance at [Reader] and if he was lucky enough, he would be there at the same time. Over months though, he began to see less and less of them. He started to worry a bit, for the first weeks he chalked it up to [Reader] wanting time away from town but was surprised to know that nobody had seen them in the market for a month. Rollo approached a vendor, starting small talk,

“Good morning, Father Rollo. How do you do today?”

“I’m quite fine, thank you for asking. How about yourself?”

“Aw well, same! Business has been booming but I haven’t seen my top customer in a while!”

“Oh, and who is that?”

“[Reader]! They’re a sweet thing but suddenly stopped coming into town. I won’t lie, I am a little worried about them.”

“[Reader]? I don’t believe I’ve seen them at mass. . .”

“]Reader] used to go if I remember correctly, but I’m not too sure. I know they used to into town daily, aside from their work they loved to walk around the city. I think they stopped coming out as much a year or two ago, sometimes though they’ll come daily but it’s so rare when they do! I’m not quite sure why-!”

“It’s because of their partner!”

Rollo and the vendor turned to another person, an elderly lady who had joined the conversation.

“Their partner. . .?”

Rollo questioned,

“Yes! At first, it was sweet. They met at [Readers’s] work and instantly became close, I would sometimes frequent their workplace you see. Their partner treated them with so much kindness but after a while, it was plain as day, he was isolating them! I remember I was walking home when I overheard them get into an argument, he wanted [Reader] to quit their job. [Reader] refused and that was the end of it, I’m not sure how they managed to persuade him because all I could hear was his yelling. After a while, [Reader] didn’t come to work and I thought they did quit, but when they came back they weren’t the same. They were still kind as ever, but you could tell something was off. Whenever they do come into town, it’s because their partner isn’t in Fleur City. I heard he sometimes goes back to take care of his ill parents.”

Rollo was conflicted, who was this woman to be spreading such personal information of theirs but he had to thank her, without her, he never would have come to realize what needed to be done. Rollo had to admit, over the time he spent observing [Reader] he did become enamored with them. One true nature is revealed in several ways, how one presents oneself, their thoughts and actions, and what one preaches. Their nature had long been revealed, [Reader] was the only person whom Rollo believed was deserving of God’s love and he would not let them become a martyr for those deserving the flames of hell.

Rollo set his plan in motion. He carefully wrote a letter and paid someone who the town would never recognize to deliver it into the hands of [Reader’s] partner. Their partner read the contents and before they could react, the person who delivered it had vanished to report to Rollo.

“It’s been done?”

“Yes, Father Rollo. May I ask though, what do you plan-”

“That’s enough, you needn't worry about the content of the letter. Your task was to deliver, which you have. You’re free to go.”

The man excused himself, leaving Rollo at his desk with his elbows propped but his hands were close together. He was deep in thought,

“He would be wise to appear later tonight if he truly cares for his parents.”

Later that night, their partner had walked down to the waterways. There, they met a cloaked individual.

“Are you the one who sent me that letter? Who the fuck do you think you are to threaten my family-!”

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The cloaked individual placed their hand out, to halt them from coming closer. They used that same hand to point upwards. When [Reader’s] partner looked up, they were met with several shadows who were not afraid to display their weapons.

“What do you want?”

Their partner scoffed out. The cloaked individual spoke out,

“You have a partner by the name of [Reader]. Let’s just say that they owe me something, that being said it’s hard for us to come in contact with one another. This is where you come in, I need you to lure them into town. Do it on a rainy day, when there are fewer people to overhear, but I need you to lure them to the center of town. Make sure that nobody sees you two or asks about you, do you understand?”

“What do they owe you-?!”

“That’s none of your concern! Just, lure them into the center of the town. My men will be watching to make sure no one interferes but remember, if someone comes to find out about this plan. Well, you know what will happen to your family, understood?”

Their partner gulped in fear and nodded,

“You may go, and remember to not tell a single soul about this. I’ll always be listening.”

They remained still for a brief moment, processing the words of the individual, before running out. Once they were out of sight, the person removed their cloak. Rollo stood in the center, looking at the moon and breathing out a sigh of relief. Those armed shadows turned to Rollo and asked,

“Father Rollo, may I ask who that man is?”

“Just someone this world would be better without. Keep me updated on his location and if he says anything. Remember, this is all to protect Fleur City.”

Rollo disappeared within the waterways.

Rollo approached the fireplace in his office and looked down at the handkerchief once more before tenderly caressing it into his face.

“[Reader], I’ll repeat your name over and over like a prayer, I’d never tire of it. . .if only you knew of all things I did for you to be by my side. . .”

The memory rolled over in his head,

“There is a storm coming, we should make preparations in case of anything.”

“Oh, you’re always so diligent and a step ahead, Father Rollo.”

“Madam, one can never be too prepared.”

The madam shook her head at Rollo’s comments but carried out his request. He had stood in preparation for anything. If what was revealed was true, then [Reader] was certainly being isolated by their partner. Their abusive partner would take advantage of another. That being said, he planned to make it so that they lured [Reader] out into the center of town, where the cathedral lay. Their partner may not know it as he was certain he had never seen him before but [Reader] should. They would request sanctuary from the church and there, He would be by the door, awaiting his beloved with open arms.

Before he knew it, he could hear the shouts and screams outside the door.

“Sanctuary, give me sanctuary!”

Before long, Rollo had opened the door and with a perfect facade, displayed concern. He could tell the way their partner trembled that he had feared for his family, he was caught by the church. Their partner had no choice but to flee the scene with their tail between his legs. After Rollo instructed the Madam to watch over [Reader], Rollo had the guards chase after their partner. In the meantime, Rollo had placed his cloak on and made his way to the outskirts of town where he was being held.

“L-Let me go! Damn it, it wasn’t my fault-!”

“Didn’t I tell you not to let anyone interfere?”

“I-it wasn’t my fault! The church and that stupid priest got in the way! P-please leave my f-family alone-!”

Rollo removed his cloak and presented himself to their ex-partner.

“Y-you!?”

“Don’t worry, your family won’t suffer. Though I will admit, I didn’t think you would go through with sacrificing them.”

“Y-You threatened my family, w-why wouldn’t I?”

“I suppose there is some logic to that reason. Tell me, did you even love them?”

“W-what? I-I suppose I did?”

“You suppose? You’re not certain?”

Rollo questioned them further,

“I mean yes! Yes, I did love them! W-what does this have to do with anything, you said they owed you something no-?”

“ No, they don’t. I did this more to see what you would do and you played right into it. Once again, I was proved right. Humanity is undeserving of God’s love and salvation, you’re all just scum that turn against each other at any moment it’s convenient. You disgust me.”

“Y-You did this to prove a point!? Y-You think I won’t reveal to the townspeople who their beloved priest is?”

“Not very intelligent either, are you? I’m not worried, because this is where judgment shall be passed onto you. This goes a little deeper than what you think, but no matter. I hereby declare you, guilty, and your sentence, punished by death. Dispose of him.”

Rollo turned around, ignoring the pleas of that man. He did turn around to see their execution, before turning back.

“We shall burn his body, but in the meantime place him somewhere no one will find out. Oh and, arrange for someone to take care of his parents. Hire a doctor to live with them.”

The others nodded and carried out the order. Rollo headed back to town with a clear conscious.

His attention remained on the flames. They had burned his body and afterward, devised a plan to break the news to his parents. As far as they were concerned, he had passed away from a natural cause but because he was such a good member of the church, he was able to have a doctor stay with them full-time. He placed a chaste kiss on the handkerchief,

‘This burning desire is turning me to sin. . .’

Rollo was sitting at the Confessional and while he was a man of God, he was also human. Like humans, he was running short of his patience. Father Rollo was a devoted man to his occupation, but of course, even messengers of God need time of their own. He was covering for another priest, Father Phoebus, who unexpectedly became ill. Rollo’s face turned into one of annoyance and anger, he was certain that the priest wasn’t ill but rather skipping out on his duties.

‘ No matter, confession ends in about 10 minutes. . .I just need to hold out till then.’

Rollo’s optimistic outlook was shattered the moment he heard someone else sit on the other side of the confessional. He rolled his eyes before turning to the wooden lattice opening but stiffened when he saw it was [Reader]. Luckily, this confessional was designed so that the priest would be hidden away and the penitent was visible.

“I do apologize for coming in so late, Father Phoebus. . but I would like to confess my sins.”

Rollo cleared his throat,

“Of course, please, confess to me what ails you.”

He placed his gaze at [Reader], who remained unaware that instead of Father Phoebus, it was Rollo.

“Right, to be honest, I��m not quite sure where to begin. All I know is, I’m committing a grave sin. I ... . .in love with a man that I cannot have. He is married to a vow.”

Rollo’s breath hitched, turned to stare at [Reader] who looked down in regret and disappointment.

“M-married? May I ask, which vow this man is married to?”

[Reader] stiffened at the question,

“Father Phoebus. . .it's Father Rollo who I am enamored with. He is God's messenger and as such, I know my feelings will never be reciprocated yet! Yet, I can’t help but still love him.”

Rollo knew that Reader required guidance and genuine support, but he couldn’t help the need or desire after hearing that the one he loved also felt the same. He pulled out the wine-red handkerchief with the beautiful purple embroidery that outlined the cloth and spelled his name on the corner. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it as his dick hardened at the idea of [Reader].

“T-tell me, how much you love him?”

Rollo swallowed the lump in his throat.

“O-Oh w-well. . .”

It was an awkward question no doubt so there was some resistance from [Reader]. Rollo pressed on,

“I would like to know how deep your admiration goes so that I c-can properly guide you.”

“R-right. . well, I love him. At first, I thought it was just admiration because he helped me get back on my feet. When I gave him his handkerchief, I saw more than a simple thanks on his face, but a face of genuine gratitude, which made me fall deeper. I know he’s only being kind to me because it’s the right thing to do and not because of any special treatment, but I can’t help but-”

Rollo continued to listen to their feelings, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t thinking about stroking his cock to their voice. Rollo had never experienced such feelings towards anyone before, but after meeting [Reader] he became a victim of the sin of greed and lust.

“Though I will admit, maybe the reason I love him is because I feel safe and secure with him. With my past partner, I didn’t feel the same sense of security. I did at first, but after a while, they became the aggressor. I’m not sure why I didn’t leave immediately after and I kept beating myself up about but Father Rollo, assured me that it was not my fault. He was so kind and understanding, it was different from the others who told me something similar. It was sincere from both sides, but with him it was. . it was different.”

When they finished confessing, Rollo spoke,

“I don’t think you should be ashamed of your feelings. It’s a natural human thing to feel, love that is. You’re right, Father Rollo is a man tied to an oath by the Church. Under the eyes of God, he may not reciprocate your feelings but that doesn’t mean he would see you any less different. Your sins are forgiven, my child.”

[Reader] nodded and bid farewell to ‘Father Phoebus’. Rollo watched their figure retreat and let out a breath of relief. Though he could not stop the pounding in his heart nor the tent in his pants.

“F-Fuck! [R-Reader]-!”

Rollo had retreated to his office once confessions were over, there he had his handkerchief wrapped around his dick, jerking himself off. The one that he loved felt the same for him but he was sure their love was not the same as his obsession with them. Such a pure and innocent crush on him whereas he shamefully was stroking his cock to the idea of touching them.

“Ha. . ha. . wanna t-touch you, fuck-!”

He threw his head back at the pleasure, how would [Reader] react to seeing their beloved Father Rollo fuck the handkerchief that they had gifted him. His orgasm was approaching and his whines were getting louder, he leaned over his table and spilled his seed onto the wine-red cloth, sweat adorning his face. He let out a sigh of relief and sat down on his chair. He thought of [Reader] and this new found confession. Rollo’s mind was made up.

“I think we’re all good to go, [Reader] we’re heading out now!”

“Have a good night!”

[Reader] bid the other church volunteers farewell before giving the church one last good look. They were about to grab their things to depart as well before the doors opened. They turned to look at Father Rollo, who emerged from his office.

“F-Father Rollo. . .what brings you out here so late?”

“I’m just giving the Church one final look, but I did hope to catch you before you left.”

“Me?”

“Yes, come [Reader], take a walk with me.”

[Reader] approached Rollo and their walk began. He was taking them across the Cathedral to put out the candles.

“I know it’s been a while, but how have you been enjoying yourself in Fleur City?”

“Oh, just fine! Thank you again, for all that you’ve done of course. It certainly feels amazing being able to freely leave and return without being shackled down. Not to mention, it’s a lot more eventful than I remember.”

“I see, Father Pheobus has attempted to get more events hosted by the church. He would like the city to get together once in a while. It’s something new that he has been doing, but it seems that the townspeople enjoy it.”

“That they do, may I ask, Father Rollo? Do you not like to get involved in events like these?”

The main hall of the Cathedral was darkening with each step,

“I wouldn’t say I dislike it. Socializing with others isn’t my strong suit, I tend to other matters that I excel at rather than mistakenly saying something I don’t mean.”

[Reader] had noticed that Rollo tended to stay in the shadows and only speak when something needed to be said. If someone approached him and tried conversing, Rollo would maintain the utmost professionalism. He wasn’t one for idle chatter but never turned someone down if they wanted to have a word with him. Rollo continued his task, with [Reader] following close behind.

“That’s fair. Sometimes not saying anything is the proper response, but I can see how that may stress you out. After all, you are a priest and everyone’s eyes are on you. Sorry, don’t mean to add to the pressure either.”

As the candles were extinguished one by one, Rollo’s heels added to the ominous vibe that the Cathedral was giving.

“You’re right, [Reader]. As a priest, all their eyes are on me waiting to hear what I say but as such, my eyes are also on them. Despite what I preach, I believe that not everyone is capable of salvation. Humans are not devoid of sin, that is the truth. Though we are created in God’s image, we certainly are not perfect. There are those where their sins are mistakes and nothing more. Then some’s sins are perfectly under their control yet still choose to see nothing wrong in their actions. You can have that outlier where one of those wishes to repent and truly feel regret, but then some parade around shamelessly into God’s house asking for forgiveness. It’s laughable.”

[Reader] remained silent. There was nothing they could say because ultimately, Father Rollo was right to some degree. Though they would be lying if they weren’t off-put by his sudden change.

“ Did you know that the baker is having an affair? Ongoing for four years actually, yet he never fails to bring his wife and kids into mass every Sunday morning, thanking God for allowing them to live the way they do. They recently had their marriage anniversary, married for 10 years to be exact. I remember I was the one who renewed their vows. His words still ring in my head,”

“I will love you forever and until the end. You’re the pillar that provides me with the strength to keep going. I would never want another partner other than you, the woman I chose to be the mother of my children. I thank God for this blessing that is you, my love.”

“How romantic, don’t you think? That same night he went back to his other partner, claiming that they had a big order for an event and he needed to be one step ahead of the game. How could I forget the previous head of the Orphanage, asking for food to provide for the children? The church and townspeople helped with what they could, but every time those children would come into mass they remained as thin as ever but the head remained full and content. It wasn’t until I stepped in and of course, led an investigation to find out that he was starving the kids and eating all the food. Now the orphanage is under the care of the Church, to be more specific, under my direct care. Don’t you see how happy those children are every time you come to mass? I even remember when Madam first came to the church, she told us the story of her husband's passing. She and her beloved husband were walking back home when an armed assailant was waiting for them, upon asking for their valuables he stabbed her husband over 27 times before fleeing. When the man was caught, he was just a petty thief who confessed to the crime. Their reasoning was they had no need to steal but got a kick out of watching the fear in the eyes of the defenseless manifest and to make matters worse, this was his first time killing since he never dared to do it before. What could an elderly man do to him had he chosen to fight back, nothing. That same thief pleaded with God before his execution that I had carried out, to spare him.”

By the time Rollo had gotten to his part in his talk, almost all the candles were out except for four in the front of the altar. There Rollo turned around, facing [Reader] who stood in the middle closest to the altar. He was closest to the church doors but that area had been pitch black. He continued his speech and though he did not pose a threat to [Reader], yet, They couldn’t help the goosebumps that were forming on their skin and the sudden draft within the Cathedral.

“Of course, the world is not black and white. There is no right or wrong, for if there was I too would have been punished. It’s not practical for me to base my distaste of humanity on a few bad apples, Madam, even after everything she went through still says that everyone deserves salvation but it’s like you said, [Reader]. We’re all so used to this world the way it is that a simple act of kindness, normalcy if you will, is considered a rarity.”

[Reader] had recalled when they told that vendor that, those were their words and they still stood by it. The only thing was, they told that to the vendor, not Rollo. They shakily took a step back but kept their eyes trained on Rollo. He noticed their expression as well as their stance, but it was no use. The door to the church was locked and only Rollo had the key. He took a step forward, emerging from the darkness and [Reader] took a step back.

“F-Father Rollo. . is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Sorry. . I just don’t know how this relates to me. . .”

He let out a chuckle,

“ You asked why I don’t like to get involved, right? That is my answer. It’s hard to get involved when I am surrounded by the same people I wish I could condemn. However, you are different. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I too have been keeping an eye on you long before we officially met. You treated everyone with kindness even those that did not deserve it. You remained as human as possible, someone who could voice their feelings and care for everyone equally, even yourself. It was a sight for sore eyes, like an angel in a sea of devils. You tried your best and worked hard, but you knew what you could and couldn’t do. You were even starting to make me regain hope in this world but I quickly noticed that warm light inside of you start to flicker. It was all because of him, [Partner’s Name]. He had slowly started to dim that warm light inside of you and I couldn’t do anything, or so I thought. Your partner driving you out of your home was not accidental, I can assure you. I had him lure you here, into the Church. There, I was able to save you from him.”

[Reader’s] breath hitched. They had always assumed that all the events that led up to now were a mere coincidence, life just being its usual confusing self. It was not unusual for their partner to enter their shared home and demand things, bossing them around. They had assumed that it was the usual same old story. This didn’t change how they saw their partner and their relief that he was no longer in their life, but it changed their perception of Rollo. Had Rollo orchestrated their whole thing? Since when? For how long? Most importantly, for what?

“Since we are in a church, I might as well confess. I have kept my eye on every single Fleur citizen since I became a priest, but I have kept my eye on you for months now. It’s hard for me to communicate with everyone, but not you [Reader]. Since I’ve been admiring you from a distance, I’ve come to love you. I love your person and your way of being. Your kindness, your truth, your struggles, everything about you I have come to love.”

By now, [Reader] was up against the altar with Rollo standing in front of them. Both were illuminated by the remaining candles, his hand reached out to caress their cheek.

“I’ve come to love everything about you, [Reader], even the parts that you aren’t aware of. I’ll remain to love them as well, for there is no one else.”

“F-Father R-Rollo, I-!”

He leaned closer to them, his piercing blue-green eyes staring into [Readers] fearful and confused ones. He placed a kiss on their lips, tilting their head back to get a better angle. Seconds passed before he lifted his lips from them,

“. .And if you were to fall into sin, let it be by my hands.”

Conflicted could not begin to describe it. The person they loved reciprocated their feelings, so much that they kissed at this very moment. Though logically speaking, Rollo had just admitted to orchestrating the whole thing. Who knew what was the truth and what was a lie? Did their partner move? Was it willingly? Most importantly, did it matter? Sure, maybe there was a time when logic was sound but that time wasn’t right now. Thinking with their heart, [Reader] kissed back. They shared a deep and sensual kiss that neither one dared to break. Rollo pushed his body up against [Reader], grinding into them. The altar luckily wasn’t too high, but there were small steps on either side that allowed them to effortlessly get on the altar. Rollo managed to push their back flat against the cold marbled table,

“F-Father R-Rollo, are you sure? Y-you’re a man with a vow and-”

“[Reader], I love you.”

Their eyes widened once more at the confession and looking up, they weren’t meant with the Rollo they knew. He was no longer stoic and professional, this Rollo was vulnerable. His cheeks were flushed pink as he straddled [Reader’s] hips. His body loomed over theirs and his hands went to open their top. His eyes were glossed over with love and desire. [Reader’s] top was opened to expose their chest and his hands lightly touched their skin. His cold fingers trailed from their neck, chest, and lastly their nipples. Rollo let out a shaky sigh,

“I love you. Let me worship you, with God as my witness let me prove my devotion to you. .”

Rollo’s lips neared [Reader’s] and they exchanged a kiss. He lightly bit on their bottom lip, asking for permission to further taste them. A moan escaped [Reader] but they opened their mouth to allow his tongue inside. Rollo pressed himself further into [Reader], afraid to let go. Needing air, [Reader] placed their hands on his clothed chest, pushing against it. Releasing their lips, Rollo straightened but released a breathy moan. [Reader] could see the warmth spreading across his pale skin, but could also feel his growing bulge. Rollo began to lean back down but stopped when [Reader] went to open his top. He allowed them to strip him of his shirt, allowing his pale chest to be exposed.

“I want to see you too, R-Rollo. . .”

The tip of his ears turned pink at the comment. He leaned down to their neck, licking up and down. Nibbling and biting down to create hickeys. His lips trailed down, kissing the skin around the newly formed hickey and down to their chest. Moans spilled from both Rollo and [Reader], the pleasure shared between the two. His tongue swirled around their nipple, lightly biting and sucking on them. [Reader] tenderly held Rollo’s head as he worked on their chest. Shaky breaths echoed throughout the Cathedral.

“F-Fuck. . R-Rollo-!”

Rollo lifted himself from their chest and saw the bright pink/red circular marks all across their chest.

“Not enough. . .it’s not e-enough. . “

Rollo leaned back down, kissing down to their navel area. His hands played with their bottoms, opening them agonizingly slow. He pulled them down their legs and he shifted back, making sure he could properly remove them.

“F-Fuck, y-your sex. . .”

Rollo’s shaky moans slipped out, he stared in awe at [Reader’s] aroused sex. He shifted back before nearing their sex and inhaling their scent. Rollo’s fingers carefully touched around, going to their most sensitive spot and circling his finger around.

“R-Rollo…right there…feels good….”

Rollo nodded, continuing to circle his finger. After a while he leaned down, placing his tongue on their sensitive spot. He licked around, replacing the movement of his finger, and began to lick up and down. [Reader] let out soft moans and breaths as he continued pleasuring them. He began to kiss, suck, lick, pinch, and stroke their sensitive bits. Rollo took a break to lick his fingers and pushed them against [Reader’s] hole. Lightly inserting a finger inside, feeling them clench around it.

“Do you lust for me. . the same way I lust for you?”

“ I-I’ve a-always wanted you-ngh!”

Though Rollo wasn’t attending to their sex with his mouth, he was still reaching inside them with his fingers. Slipping a second finger to curl up against that soft spot inside them, pumping rhythmically. Rollo leaned back down, placing his mouth back on their sex. Rollo himself wasn’t too experienced, but based on their sounds, he knew more or so where to touch. His long slender fingers managed to reach thoroughly and the stimulation with his tongue was overwhelming.

“F-Fuck Rollo, g-gonna cum-!”

Rollo continued to abuse their sex, giving them that final push needed to orgasm. Rollo’s face was drenched with drool and cum, but still managed to swallow everything that they released. He unbuttoned his pants, releasing his cock that was already leaking pre-cum. He wrapped his hands around it, stroking himself.

“Can I-fuck! P-put it inside you. . .?”

Rollo’s half-lidded eyes pleaded with [Reader’s], begging to fuck them. [Reader] propped themself up with their elbow, sat up, and kissed him. Rollo leaned forward to reciprocate. They placed their hands on his cheeks and lightly caressed,

“You may. . .but can I. .be on top?”

Rollo softly nodded, letting [Reader] guide him to lie down on the altar instead. [Reader] went to stimulate his already hard dick, but wrapped their hands around it and jerk him, smearing his pre-cum around. They licked their fingers and trailed them down to their hole, lightly fingering themselves to adjust to his size. They scissored themself and when they were ready, hovered over his cock. They lowered themselves onto Rollo’s cock, clenching down on his dick.

“F-Fuck you’re tight-!”

Rollo threw his head back at the sensation and his hands reached to hold [Reader’s] hip. [Reader] stayed still to adjust to his size but after a while, began to move. Riding his cock, [Reader] threw their head back as breaths left them, their back slowly arching. Rollo thrust, matching their pace as well. One of his hands moved to their sex, stimulating it at the same pace.

Aside from the candles, the moonlight entered the Cathedral through the stained glass. The hue of the deep blues and purples reflected off their skin, creating an almost angelic glow. Their moans and whines echoed throughout the church, Rollo’s back was on the altar and his body coated in sweat. His eyes glossed over with tears, looking over at [Reader] who fared the same. Their body was sweaty and warm, their movements were slowing with time. Rollo’s thrust became more erratic, reaching deeper into [Reader].

“I-I’m close-! F-Fuck, f-feels s-so good-! Rollo!”

Mewls spilled out of [Reader]’s mouth.

“M-Me too-! I-I love you! L-Love you so much! God, I love you so much, [Reader]!”

“I l-love you too, R-Rollo-!”

With their final declaration of love, [Reader] came all over Rollo and he came deep inside of them. Their deep breaths were heard throughout the cathedral. [Reader] slumped on top of Rollo with his cock still inside them. They nuzzled into Rollo’s neck, peppering light kisses.

“Love you s’much, Rollo.”

“I love you too. . .[Reader].”

His arms wrapped around them, pressing them closer into him. They stayed like that for a while, before [Reader] perked up, looking at his face.

“I-I do have a question though. . .did you know that I liked you?”

Rollo looked down to see their curious gaze, he adverted his eyes with a blush staining his cheeks.

“It. . .it wasn’t Father Pheobus in the Confessional. It. . .it was me. . .”

[Readers] face fell,

“S-SO I CONFESSED TO YOU?”

[Reader] buried their face in his neck, Rollo let out a soft smile at their antics.

“That you did. Though I am glad, without you confessing to me, this never would have happened.”

Still buried in his neck, they mumbled a couple of words.

“I love you. . .”

Rollo, of course, said it back. He could hear their soft snores, they had passed out from exhaustion. Only one thought lay in his mind, there was no one else other than him that could preserve the purity within [Reader].

‘If hellfire must consume me, so be it. I will never let anyone else take you away from me. Your purity is for me to preserve and to taint, no one else.’

This was only the beginning of the tragic tell that would come about to Twisted Wonderland. The story of the righteous priest and judge who burned down Fleur City, all because of their desire for someone they could never truly have.

A/N: So that was a long one. . .how we feeling? I don’t think I will ever write a part 2, sorry :(( UNLESS I get inspiration but I do want to write headcanons for him so maybe? That being said I will be posting another post that will talk about the future of this blog (I AM NOT LEAVING DW)! That being said, I want to thank my friends for helping me with this fic! Special mention to my friend who helped me confirm his personality for me (I love you Nova) and my other friend, who got horny thoughts when they went to church! :3

#yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere smut #yandere rollo #yandere rollo flamme #yandere rollo flamme x reader #twst rollo #rollo flamme #twisted wonderland rollo #rollo x reader

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ilikethisacompletelynormalamount · 1 month

Text

Andrew Scott, Vogue: April 2024.

by Zing Tsjeng, Photos by Annie Leibovitz

Ripley, in other words, is the hero of the tale. “That’s why he fascinates so many,” says Scott. “There’s been so many iterations of him. I think it’s because people root for him.” Actors like Alain Delon and Dennis Hopper have tried the role; Matt Damon played him as an obsequious, lower-class naïf; John Malkovich, as a slimy, camp killer. Scott’s Ripley is different; a watchful loner escaping rodent-infested poverty, more at home among art than he is around people. Musician and actor Johnny Flynn plays his first victim—the monied Dickie Greenleaf—and Dakota Fanning is Dickie’s suspicious ex-girlfriend. “I find Tom quite vulnerable,” Scott tells me. “I don’t think he’s necessarily lonely, but I certainly think he’s solitary…. He seems to me by his nature that he just can’t fit in. He’s trying to survive.”

In Ripley, Zaillian extracts maximum Hitchcockian dread from every creaky footstep. But most sinister of all is Scott’s face, which exhibits a sharklike steeliness throughout. It’s a performance that exudes queasy force. Is Ripley a scammer, a psychopath, or both? “There’s so many things lurking beneath him that I’ve been very reluctant to diagnose him with anything. I never thought of him as a sociopath or murderous,” Scott declares. “It’s up to everybody else to characterize him or call him whatever they want.”

As we weave through tourists near the Tower of London, barely anybody notices Scott, save for a faint glimmer of recognition among mainly young women. He seems to draw reassurance from it. “I don’t like to think about it too much, if I’m honest,” he muses of fame. “I find it a little bit, er, frightening.” He is known but not blockbuster-recognizable, although he is in the upcoming Back in Action with Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx. What stunts did he do? “I can’t give that away, I’m afraid, or somebody from Netflix will come and shoot me in the head.”

What’s been on Scott’s mind the most hasn’t been acting at all, in fact, but art. As a 17-year-old, he was offered his first movie role on the same day he was given a scholarship to study painting. He chose acting, but has recently been thinking about Oliver Burkeman’s philosophical self-help tract from 2021, Four Thousand Weeks, which makes the case for focusing on the five things you truly want to accomplish. “For me at the moment, it’s like, What do you want to do? What do you want to say?”

He scrolls through his phone to show me his work. There’s a watercolor of a couple arguing in a restaurant in rich reds and greens, line drawings of friends and people on the beach, and two self-portraits. “It’s a bit weird,” he acknowledges of his depiction of himself, all bulbous forehead and Pan-like tufts of hair. His brisk, nervy lines are reminiscent of Egon Schiele or Francis Bacon, who turns out to be one of his favorite painters. “Well, God, I’ll take that,” he mutters at the comparison. He would like someday to go to art school. “I don’t ever regret it,” he says of acting. “But I suppose you just get to a stage where you think, What else? That’s one of the big painful things in life for me, where you can’t quite live all the lives.” As he gets older, he feels the tug toward revisiting old working relationships, including with Waller-Bridge: “We’ve definitely got things cooking,” he smiles. “I’d love to work with her again. She’s just a singular, wonderful person.” For her part, Waller-Bridge says: “I’d love to see him do a fully unhinged slapstick comedy character. Someone who is outraged at everything, all of the time.”

As we round the pavement and the Tate Modern looms back into sight, he recalls a poster he received in 2017—a monstrously large graphic that detailed every week in a human life span. “It’s your entire life if you live to 80—you have to fill in all the bits that you’ve already lived,” he remembers in awe, “a visually terrifying gift.” What did he do with it? “I didn’t hold on to it for too long.” Easy come, easy go: We finally finish our loop around the Thames and, as Scott disappears back into the throng, anonymous just the way he likes it, it occurs to me that the actor has many lives to live yet. ■

#andrew scott #ripley #vanya #all of us strangers #julianne moore #phoebe waller bridge #annie leibovitz #vogue

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soap-ify · 5 months

Text

nsfw , minors dni.

☆ : lonely is a man without love — kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader

kyle's lonely life experiences a change when he moves into a new place — ♡

. . 11.1k words.

tags and cw : neighbors to lovers, angst but LOTS of comfort, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence (briefly mentioned), hush if you see any military inaccuracies, reader is struggling and kyle too, reader is somewhat shy, mentions and descriptions of anxiety and depression, reader is afab and therefore the smut contains afab anatomy but other than that gender neutral terms have been used, smut, p in v, missionary position, fingering, cum eating, body worship i think, LOTS of kisses this man is insane about you, LOTS of consent check-ins because he is amazing, some laughing during sex, use of alcohol, kyle smokes, kissing in the rain.

notes : this is very self-indulgent and probably horribly written i am sorry . . went overboard with the word limit too i didn't think it would be long. this is for the gaz likers, eat your dinner up!

Kyle sometimes felt like he was doomed to be alone forever. So much love floated around him yet not a single bit was directed at him.

It’s a good thing. He would reassure himself. Will help me focus on my work. Though that wouldn’t explain the gnawing feeling in his heart, the loneliness that just spread within him like a virus while he would curl up in his bed, arms wrapped around himself while his fingers would caress his shoulders, pretending that it was someone else.

It wasn’t that he was bad. He was far from it. Handsome with a nice husky voice and a fairly athletic build. Not only that, he had a great personality too — loyal and determined. Still not fucking enough though, it seemed. People did like him, just not in the way his heart desired to be liked. At some points, it was as if no one ever took him seriously, making him feel like the odd one out. The leftover.

Kyle is a sweetheart — heart full of love that was aching to be given to someone, aching to be understood and embraced for once.

A few days ago, Kyle had rented a new apartment on impulse. Not that he regretted it though, it was clearly better than the current apartment he was living in — more spacious and closer to the base.

He was moving in today, cardboard boxes scattered on the floor as he stood in front of the door of his apartment, fiddling with his keys. He was about to open the door when he felt someone tap on his shoulder, causing him to abruptly turn around to face the culprit, senses on alert.

“Sorry!” A warm voice squeaked out, instantly catching Kyle’s attention. It was you, a friendly yet surprised smile adorning your lips as you angled your head to look at him. “Didn’t mean to surprise you.” You laughed sheepishly, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt as you gestured to the door beside his door. “I’m your neighbor.”

Kyle would relax a bit, her dark eyes flickering towards the door you had gestured at before landing back at you, a soft smile slowly gracing his lips. “Nah, s’fine. Don’t be sorry.” He chuckled warmly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He was used to being hyper aware all the time due to his work, so that sudden touch on his shoulder had nearly made him have a heart-attack. “...And I’m Kyle.” He added after a while.

Silence would soon take over as you two looked at one another, thinking over what to say next. “Well…” You would trail off, not wanting to disturb this new neighbor of yours any longer. Your eyes would glance down at those plump lips for him for a second before you snapped out of your thoughts, offering him a smile. “I’ll see you around then… Don’t be afraid to ask for anything at all.” You mumbled quickly, feeling like a damn bother already, turning around on your feet before jogging back into your apartment, gently shutting the door behind you.

Kyle would stare at the spot where you stood with a dazed look in his eyes, his lips parted slightly as he let out a shaky breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding until you went away. Fuck, that was awkward, he internally thought, yet unable to shake off this warm feeling that was spreading through his heart. Typical Kyle, always being left shocked and giddy after anyone would show interest in him. You are a weirdo, Garrick.

Now he had another mini goal in his life — to get to know you. You were his neighbor after all so it was only polite for him to at least know you, right? And with that, he resumed moving the packed boxes into his apartment, blood rushing to his cheeks.

The following weeks were very much uneventful — simple greetings exchanged whenever you passed by Kyle, little waves here and there alongside the sweet smiles you would give him that would just melt his heart. Yet still, there wasn’t any real interaction. He didn’t know anything about you, and at this point, he felt like he had read too much into the time he first met you a few weeks ago.

It wasn’t as if he himself was making any effort. He was too caught up in work, coming home late at nights, barely having any time for himself or others.

Tonight was different though. He had come early. Well, not really — it was 11:00 PM, but still earlier than usual though he was just as tired as every time. As he made his way towards the door of his apartment, he felt a familiar figure next to him. You. His head was quick to turn to the side, brown eyes instantly meeting yours as you looked at him as well, the time suddenly slowing down. There you were outside your apartment’s door, in your work clothes and a bit of disheveled appearance, highlighting just how exhausted you were after work. Just like him.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other tiredly before he managed to gather up some courage, his hand holding the door knob. “Drinks?” He asked, internally cringing at how hoarse his voice sounded due to his throat randomly going dry at the sight of you. Though you were quick to nod, causing a familiar warmth to spread in his chest.

That’s how you found yourself in Kyle’s apartment, your eyes taking in the details. It was quite warm and cozy, not overly decorated but having little things like books, certificates and pictures around that made the apartment his.

You settled down on the couch, sinking into the softness while your fingers absent-mindedly played with the sleeve of your shirt, eyes watching Kyle as he came towards you with two bottles of bourbon. “Sorry that I look like a disaster.” You mumbled quietly, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Nah. You don’t. And even if ya do, I do too. That'd mean we're matching.” He grinned and sat beside you, passing you one bottle of bourbon before opening up his own, taking a swig of it, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He would lean his head back, and you couldn’t help but look at the way the bulge in his throat moved as he gulped down the alcohol.

Kyle looked pretty. He always looked good-looking in your eyes ever since you had first met him, but right now, something made him look even better. Maybe it was the dim yellow light from the lamp on a nearby stand that fell onto his face, creating a soft glow around the face of his shape from the angle you were seated on. His eyes were closed while the bourbon relaxed his nerves, his plump lips parted slightly. You couldn’t help but admire his lashes, the mild stubble that adorned his jaw and the mustache that neatly rested above his upper lips — and that small scar on his cheek, your fingers aching to caress the rough surface. You silently took a sip from your own bourbon bottle, your eyes traveling down to his neck, the sight of skin making your insides feel weird, in a good way. You would soon find yourself in awe of his arms, the way his shirt was rolled up to rest on his elbows, and fuck, those hands. Your throat went dry as you mindlessly stared at the veins on his hand, and those long fingers of his. Get your head out of the gutter, you reminded yourself.

You weren’t usually like this. Yes, you had a fair share of people you have had a crush upon, but they were never a person that you sat with and drank a bourbon with, someone who also happened to be your neighbor. This all felt too weird, too real. It was maybe also the fact that you weren't so used to all this — this level of calmness and almost sickening domesticity. You don't even remember the last time you had let someone see you being vulnerable, open around them or anything. You were mostly alone.

Failing to rip your eyes away from Kyle, you silently continued to stare at him while drinking the bourbon until his eyes fluttered open and met yours, catching you staring at him. Shit. You went still, feeling your blood rush to your cheeks.

He went still too, his brows raising in curiosity and subtle amusement, his lips twitching a bit — as if contemplating on whether to smile or not. Why am I so awkward?, he internally scolded himself, his fingers tightening around the bottle of bourbon.

A part of him felt proud that you found him attractive. He wanted you to find him attractive. He silently took one last swig of the bourbon before putting the bottle aside, turning over to him. His cheeks felt warm, and he didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or this situation — or both. Sensing your embarrassment, he decided to let this little action of yours slide and change the topic.

“Hey, you wanna hear somethin’ funny?” He asked, his elbow gently nudging your arm. You nodded curiously, fingers tapping against the glass of the bottle.

He would shuffle a bit closer to you, your shoulders brushing against one another. It didn’t feel odd this time, or creepy even — it felt just right. The type of right where the time seemingly slows down and the room grows warmer, the type of right where everything blurs around the person your eyes are focused on — Kyle. The type of right where your breathing gets slower in contentment and tranquility, an odd sense of serenity flowing through your veins, making it impossible for you to not lean into him.

He began talking, his tone not slurred at all but seemingly more confident now, and you couldn’t pinpoint whether it was because of the alcohol or just him warming up to you. He talked about his job, how he was an operator in the Special Forces, not disclosing much more than that because apparently, that information was classified. He subtly talked about some fucked up moments that he had to face, that he found funny even, despite it being somewhat horrific actually.

“There was this one time when I had to rescue a friend of mine. I was in the heli with Nik — he’s a nice man. Anyways, some stuff happened and I slipped off the heli, but hey, I didn’t hit the ground. I was danglin’ by a fuckin' rope, and my cap'n kept tryin’ to talk to me through the earpiece. It was hell, he couldn’t believe it.” Kyle chuckled, voice a bit raspy while his eyes were focused on you, eager to see your reaction.

You would have normally been weirded out by something like that, something that just seemed so dangerous. But the way he had described it, the way he had chuckled even — it made your lips twitch into a bright smile, a soft giggle leaving your lips that soon turned into full blown laughter. “Dangling by a rope?!” You try to mutter in between your laughs, hands clutching your sides as you try to regain your composure. Your reaction made him burst into laughter too, and now you both were just a mess, tearing up. At this point, it didn’t even seem to be about Kyle’s experience anymore. It was a sweet, genuine laugh — evidence of how you had gotten so comfortable with your neighbor, how you had started to feel this odd sense of affection towards him.

Kyle was no better, his heart drumming like crazy against his chest. You are an angel, he internally thought, so enamored by the sound of your laughter. It didn’t matter what you thought of your laughter or how much you tried to keep it quiet, he absolutely loved it. He began feeling that familiar ache in his heart, the emotions that begged to be spilled out, to be directed towards someone, anyone — you. But he was going to hold it in like every time, like all the times he had to keep his emotions bottled up, knowing that they wouldn’t be reciprocated. They never were reciprocated, and it made him into this — a love-starved fool.

The laughter eventually dissolved into muffled giggles and shaky breaths, your hands loosening around your sides while your glassy eyes looked over at Kyle, who was also looking at you. Both of you were panting softly, eyes locked on one another. You could feel your heartbeat picking up its pace, your lips parted slightly while your cheeks were all warm. God, he is gorgeous, you wondered in awe, feeling an oddly fuzzy feeling clouding your brain.

You two were so close, and you could just kiss him. You wanted to. But wouldn’t he find it weird, being kissed by his neighbor? You felt skeptical, but seeing the way his eyes just didn’t seem to move away from yours, you found yourself leaning forward. And he did too. He actually leaned forward!

Closer, and a bit more, and more—

Until his phone rang. Fucking hell. Kyle audibly groaned, looking at you with a collectively embarrassed and apologetic look. You backed away, cheeks burning up while your eyes darted away shyly, nibbling on your bottom lip.

He mumbled something inaudible under his breath, getting up from the couch so he could accept the call, pressing his phone against his ear. “Yes, Cap’n? Yeah… Oh, alright... On Friday? Yeah, okay.” He whispered, soon enough ending the call before turning back to you, clearing his throat sheepishly. “Uh— Sorry. Work call.” He grumbled, brows knitting.

You shook your head, still in a bit of haze after how you almost kissed him. Or maybe you weren’t going to. Maybe you were just overthinking the whole situation, clinging onto some false hope because fuck, your neighbour was gorgeously enticing. You pushed those thoughts away quickly, not willing to fall into another delusion, just like you had with your past crushes. “S’fine, Kyle. Need to go anyway. Too late now.” You mumbled softly, looking over at the watch on your wrist that read 12:45 AM now. You hadn’t realized how much time you had spent with him already. It was as if time seemed to melt away around you, just like the way he seemed to melt your heart.

But there was no time to think about that. You had work tomorrow. It was already too late. Kyle looked over at the clock hung on the wall, a soft sigh leaving his lips before his brown eyes looked back at you. “Thanks for keepin’ me company, mate.” He spoke, internally cringing at calling you ‘mate’ though he didn’t know what else to call you. Love? Sweetie? I will freak her out, he internally thought, you think too much, Garrick.

You made your way towards the front door of his apartment, glancing at him one last time. “Goodnight, Kyle…” You whispered, a soft smile adoring your lips, senses a bit clouded due to the alcohol though you knew that your smile was sincere — full of warmth that you had shown multiple, but managed to seem different when shown to him — more genuine.

When you stepped out into the corridor, your eyes caught a glimpse of his expression, a hint of disappointment and loneliness lingering behind the warm smile he wore on his plump lips. Maybe you were imagining it, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but you knew that you wanted to be there for him more and more. He was like a painting, placed in the far corner of the museum where no one would see him, but you were the visitor who had coincidentally stumbled upon the isolated area, now in awe of this painting.

It was just one of those days for you today, brows knitted in frustration as you went over the paperwork of your job, not understanding a single word written there. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep you had gotten the past few days, or the boisterous laugh of your fellow colleagues that roared in the workplace, overstimulating your senses. Or maybe it was your annoying boss, slamming loads and loads of papers on your desk and you just silently accepted them because, well, you couldn’t afford angering your boss. Or maybe it was just Kyle who had been stuck in your brain ever since that little experience you had with him a few days ago.

You didn’t have the luxury of having a pleasant lifestyle. It was monotonous more than anything — most days passed with you absolutely drowning in your work, giving you barely any time to take care of yourself. You were horribly burnt out, exhausted with the same old stuff going on. Maybe that’s why you were so drawn to Kyle in the first place. He was new, fresh like the spring breeze, his smile enough to kindle a strange warmth in your chest.

Whatever it was, you knew that you wanted to get to know him better, even though you weren’t the best at making connections — or even maintaining them. The thought made you wince, mind drifting away from the paperwork.

Your phone hadn’t pinged with a new message for a few days. You knew it, they had grown tired of you. Your friends — everyone. It was your fault, right? It was always your fault. Pushing people away, not letting them see past your mask, to see the real you that yearned to be understood, to fit in. If it weren’t for your depressive episodes, you would still have managed to maintain some relationship. But no. You just had to push them away. Now hopelessly sitting on your bed, dark circles adorning your under eyes while you gazed at your silent phone, a familiar emptiness lingering in your heart that just never seemed to go away. Your room was a mess, neither your body nor mind having any energy to get up. You needed help, you needed someone — anyone. But you didn’t want to be a burden, you didn’t—

You were snapped out of your memories at the sound of the glass shattering and some yells, your head snapping up to see that one of your colleagues had managed to break a glass, now getting yelled by the boss. Fucking great. You bitterly groaned silently, eyes looking over at the clock. Just a few more hours, you could do this.

Once the time was up, you were quick to grab your things and scurry out of the office, too exhausted to deal with anyone. 6:30 PM — you had actually managed to leave early today. You followed along your usual path, taking the crowded bus and then having a small walk along the street until you reached the small apartment complex.

About an hour passed and you had properly freshened up with a nice shower, now cladded in one of your pajamas. The fatigue still lingered in your muscles, refusing to go away. You frowned silently, eyes darting over to the balcony door. Putting on some slippers, you walked over to the balcony door and opened it, stepping into the cool, chilly evening air — the sky having mostly darkened up. You breathed in the fresh air, feeling a sense of ease clouding your senses. Though your moment of peace was interrupted by the smell of cigarettes. Wait, what?

Your head turned to the side, catching the sight of your neighbor on his balcony. Fuck, you had forgotten that your balcony was connected with Kyle’s.

Your brows rose in surprise, eyes carefully looking over at him. He looked, well, like a wreck. You felt your heart sink as you looked at him, taking in his appearance. He wore a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, the hood covering his head up, restricting you from the view of his short curly hair. His eyes looked tired, dark circles visible under his eyes, his brows knitted while his eyes were focused on the sky, gaze distant. A lit cigarette was snug in between his fingers, connecting with his lips as he exhaled some smoke. You wondered what happened, what caused him to look so… dejected. Though you resisted from asking him that directly, not wanting to pry into something you clearly didn’t belong in.

“Smoker?” Your voice cut through the silence, causing him to look over at you in surprise.

Kyle hadn’t expected to see you here. There you were, in your balcony, staring at him with concern that was masked behind nonchalance, though he could easily spot it. “Sometimes.” He replied, voice hoarse as his eyes looked away, staring back at the sky. He wanted to talk to you, had missed you so much, but this really wasn’t the best time. He didn’t mean it, but his voice sounded uncharacteristically annoyed.

You winced at his lack of reaction and the subtle show of annoyance, swallowing the strange lump in your throat as you silently stepped forward, leaning against the barrier of your balconies. “What’s wrong?” You finally decided to hit the sore spot, eyeing the change in his expression.

“Nothing.” He replied gruffly.

“Well there’s clearly something wro—”

“It’s none of your business. You don’t wanna hear it, trust me.”

“You won’t know unless you—”

“I told you, it’s nothing!”

“Stop fucking talking over me!” Your voice raised unintentionally alongside his. For a second, you just stared at him with wife eyes, panting softly as he looked back at you with an equally surprised reaction. This was such a stupid thing to argue on, and for a moment, you thought that maybe he was right. Maybe it really wasn’t any of your business. You were just his neighbor, right? Good job, ruining everything once again, you internally scolded yourself, a groan leaving your lips. If only you could control your goddamn temper.

Kyle was stunned, your voice pulling him out of his depressed haze. He huffed, brows knitting in embarrassment as he walked over to the barrier that separated the balconies, getting in front of you. “Fuck, sorry. It’s just…” He hesitated, taking another drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke aside. “I am tired, y’know. Working’ so hard every day and for what? I got no one to be proud of me. Fuck, even my own cap’n doesn’t give me the validation I want…” His voice cracked at the end, nose scrunching as he looked away, as if ashamed by his own vulnerability.

Fuck, you froze, You knew this feeling too well.

“And now look at me… Talkin’ to my neighbor about it. I am supposed to be protecting people, n-not be the fucking weak one.” He sniffled irritably, forcing out an insincere chuckle. Self deprecating thoughts, typical for Kyle. Though you were clearly unaware of it.

Kyle’s mind was a mess right now. Do better, do better, do better. Ever since he had joined the taskforce, he had this itchy feeling in his heart that urged him to prove himself. To make everyone sure that he was worthy enough to deal with the horrors of the world. But no amount of training or missions gave him the satisfaction he desired. There was always someone better than him. Who even was he anymore? He had molded himself so much for others, and now he couldn’t recognise himself.

You had noticed how Kyle had suddenly gone quiet, the connected balconies now surrounded by a thick layer of silence, sparking a familiar sense of anxiety in you. You wanted to say something to him, something you longed to listen to when you were struggling a few years ago. But what could you even say without properly knowing his situation? You knew nothing about what actually even goes on in his job despite the little things he had told you that wouldn’t really be considered classified.

So you simply reached your hand forward, grabbing his free one. You felt him stiffen up for a split second before relaxing again, his eyes moving back to you. You took this time to silently admire his hands, your fingers lacing with his as your thumb rubbed gently circles on his skin. His hand was so fucking pretty, the type you’d want after a manicure. His nails were nicely cut, and his skin was clean and only mildly callused. You were surprised that his hands weren’t so madly roughened up in the way you would normally expect a soldier to have.

“I have a hand care routine.” Kyle blurted out sheepishly, probably having sensed your fascination. You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, causing his eyes to soften up. Your laugh. It reminded him of how you gave him company alongside drinking some bourbon a few nights ago. It was his favorite night in his damn life already.

“I don’t know what's going on in your head, Kyle. But…” You trailed off, giving his hands a gentle squeeze while your eyes darted away in an almost shy manner. “You can always rely on me. I swear.”

Kyle could have sworn that he heard his heart explode in his chest.

There was no way you weren't an angel. The familiar painful warmth made its appearance into his heart and this time, he didn’t push it away. He was smitten. You, sweet you. His lovely name. Not emphasis on his yet, because well— yeah.

Kyle had started feeling hopeful all over again, blood rushing to his cheeks and lips parting breathlessly. He didn’t know what exactly he was feeling towards you. Maybe a silly crush like many others wherein his feelings were never reciprocated. But he instantly pushed that thought away. He knew that you were different. Unlike others who had made him into this anxious, perfectionist mess — you didn’t put any burdens on him, simply made him feel safe and seen. Safe. He had never felt safe with any person before, maybe with his task force but that was really different from what he felt right now. He didn’t feel unlovable for once, despite the self-loathing thoughts scratching on the back of his mind, making him struggle to think straight.

He simply wanted to fall in your arms and cry. Cry about how it was just too much for him now, the sheer immorality of his work that he had promised himself that he would face. Cry about how no one ever wanted him, how he was always left out. Cry about being the second option. Cry about feeling like a fucking outsider. Cry about never being perfect. Cry about everything.

He would have actually made his way into your arms if it wasn’t for the little barrier in between your balcony and his. And the barrier between you both — the invisible one. You were still just a neighbor, and maybe a friend. He didn’t want to overthink this, to give himself hope like every time.

Once his cigarette had run out, he sighed softly and kept it tucked in between his fingers, his lips forming a soft smile — the one that you were so familiar with. “You’re a special one, lovie.” He said, before pausing, lips twitching a bit. Going all out now with the nicknames.

Your eyes lightened up under the faint, dim light of the balcony, lips forming a sweetly goofy smile. Lovie. That just sounded so… Kyle. You liked it, this new little change in your relationship. You never let go of his hand, your body pressing up against the barrier of the balconies. “C’mon. Wanna hang out again? My apartment this time.” You offered, gently nudging him.

And oh boy, he was embarrassingly quick to agree.

You had put down fluffy pillows in front of the couch, Kyle seated on them alongside you with your backs pressed against the couch. You had bought a bowl of popcorns, which was now settled in between the little distance you two had. The light from your TV illuminated your face, and he couldn’t help but silently stare at you.

“I’m going to put on a rom-com.” You mumbled softly, hands fiddling with the remote of the TV as you scrolled through the lists of movies, until random on a recently added rom-com movie you don't recall ever watching.

Kyle’s eyes drifted over to the TV screen and then back to you, a cheeky grin soon adorning his lips. ”I feel like this is a trap.” He chuckled under his breath, playfully nudging you with his elbow.

“Oh yeah? Why would it be?” You couldn’t help but giggle, eyes squinting.

“Well, I dunno! Didn’t know that lovie here was into rom-coms.”

“You don’t know much about me then, Kyle.”

The banter between you both went on for a few seconds until the opening credit song of the movie started playing, causing you to immediately hush him, focusing fully onto the movie. Kyle went quiet, pulling the hood of his head, finally. Those short curls of his were visible once again.

He was definitely more relaxed than before. He had even sprayed himself with your perfume so the smell of cigarettes goes away. His mind felt a bit clearer too, albeit a weird dull ache still present in his heart. The usual emptiness, the ache for you. He ignored those feelings for now though, trying to properly focus on the movie.

Easier said than done. You were so close to him, warmth basically radiating off you while your eyes were fixed onto the screen, mouth silently chewing onto the popcorns. He sneakily shuffled a bit closer, his shoulder gently brushing with yours. You didn’t flinch away at all, making his heart warm up even more.

He wanted, no, needed to hold you. His arms were aching to embrace you, and as much as the rational part of his mind would have normally stopped him, this time it didn’t. He gently leaned his head a bit close, lips a few inches away from your ears. “Can I hold you…?” He asked, voice soft and a bit raspy.

Your breath hitched at the sudden proximity, your head tilting to the side to face him, only for your noses to almost be pressed together. Warmth bloomed in your chest and you couldn’t help but nod, lips forming a sweet smile. “Yes…” You whispered. You wouldn’t have let anyone else hold you. You trusted him.

Kyle was overjoyed, but he managed to hide it well. His arms, firm with muscles, slowly around you and scooped you towards him until your back was nicely snuggled into his chest, seated between his legs. You could almost feel his heartbeat against your back — rapid and loud with soft thumps. you found yourself relaxing in his arms, leaning more into him as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

You picked the bowl of popcorns and gently placed it back on your lap, resuming to eat it. Kyle took this time to place his chin on the top of your head, happy that you couldn’t see the absolutely goofy grin that adorned his lips, his heart practically jumping up and down in his chest. He had never felt so connected with someone, your warmth seeping into the sheer loneliness that engulfed his heart. He wasn’t alone.

“Crappy guy.” He commented on the love interest of the female lead, some tall and cold man — very much typical in romance movies. You hummed in agreement, your hand grazing him as he put his hand alongside yours into the bowl, picking up some popcorn.

The movie wasn’t even good at this point. Mostly because all of your mind was solely focused on how nice and warm he felt behind you, making you feel so relaxed. You could basically fall asleep on him if you wanted to, but you restrained yourself mentally, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. What even were the boundaries now?

You closed your eyes momentarily, curling up against him after you put the popcorn bowl aside, your cheek pressed against his neck. “Bored?” He asked quietly, his hand rubbing up and down your arm in a gentle manner, earning a silent nod from you. He sighed softly and nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

“About earlier…” You trailed off, brows knitting in confusion. What were you doing? It was as if you wanted to comfort him as much as you could, your heart speaking instead of your mind. It was like an itch, one that wouldn’t go away unless you talked to him. You shifted in his arms so you could face him, comfortable in between his legs, not caring about the movie anymore. “I…” You sheepishly cleared your throat, hands hesitantly twitching before grasping onto his shoulders. “I… I was struggling real bad a few years ago. Still am, but… Just wanted to tell you that you aren’t alone…” You nervously looked away, chewing on your bottom lip.

You had never opened up to anyone before. It was basically written all over your face.

Kyle’s brows furrowed momentarily, going quiet after your words. It explained a lot actually, the subtle dark circles under your eyes and the absent-minded fidgeting you always did. Though it wasn’t really noticeable, he noticed. Perks of having a job that required high attention.

“Lovie… You don’t gotta say anythin’ you don’t wanna.” He spoke after a while, his arms tightening around you as he pulled you in just a bit more closer, the tip of his nose almost touching yours. “But thank you… Really. And I am also here for you, always” His voice softened up even more at the end, so quiet and warm.

You scoffed softly, but nodded, your hands shyly caressing up his shoulders, fingers trailing up his neck, face before eventually reaching his scalp. Your fingers soothingly ran through his short, nicely cut hair, a soft sigh escaping your lips. You had been waiting for this. And the way Kyle’s eyes closed relaxed encouraged you even more to gently scratch his scalp.

Kyle leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttered shut and lips parted slightly, relishing your touch. It was achingly comforting, and he could feel the noises in his head becoming inaudible, his heart rate relaxing and his nerves calming down.

You, you, you, you.

That’s what rang in his head, blood rushing to his cheeks and ears as he felt himself get all giddy over his neighbor — sweet neighbor.

The movie was long forgotten in the background, the only trace of it being the muffled sounds and the light from the screen that fell onto you both. Kyle slowly opened his eyes again, his hands reaching up to gently cup your face, fingertips pressing against the back of your ears. His eyes looked all over your face, from the fond look in your eyes to your lips. Lips he wanted to kiss so bad.

“Can I kiss you?”

His own words surprised him, but he didn’t back away. Not now, not ever. He gently pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing syncing with yours as he felt your hands slide down to gently hold onto his shoulders again, your lips forming an adorable smile.

“Yes… Okay.”

He slowly closed the distance between you both, pressing his lips against yours. His lips felt soft, moving with your lips delicatel — a chaste kiss. The kiss didn’t seem inexperienced by any means. He knew what he was doing, holding your face so tenderly in his hands as if you were the most precious thing ever, breath hitching subtly as he parted from the kiss, looking at you with half-open eyes. Holy shit, he actually kissed you. If he were to die this very moment, he would die a happy man.

“Am I going too fast, lovie…?” He asked, his hands slowly easing their way down to your waist, helping you up to sit on his lips before he wrapped his arms around your waist one again, a blissful smile on his lips.

You shook your head lazily, arms wrapping around his neck as you comfortably sat on his lap, blood rushing to your cheeks while your heart thumped fast in your chest. You actually kissed him. “I liked it… You can do more, Kyle.”

God, you were perfect, he thought to himself, brain buzzing with glee while his hands gently caressed your lower back, fingers applying some pressure to your hip bone, earning a relaxed sigh from you. “I told ya I felt like this was going to a trap.” He chuckled in amusement under his breath before pressing his lips against yours once more.

Your mind felt fuzzy as you responded back to his kiss, soft smooching sounds lingering in the air. It felt nice. Too nice. Your brain wanted to somehow disconnect from the feeling of the kiss. Memories of you isolating yourself from everyone made their way into your mind once again like a fly that never went away, scratching at your head. Fuck. What if you pushed him away too? This felt impossibly good, and you didn’t know if you could handle it.

Still, you didn’t pull away from the kiss. You couldn’t. You still wanted this.

You felt his tongue gently caressing your bottom lip, poking it as if requesting entrance. You could almost feel him unable to hold in his grin in the middle of the kiss when you complied, gently parting your lips. He coaxed you closer and closer, the tip of his tongue gently caressing yours. A muffled whimper left your lips as you tightened your fingers around his shoulders, brows furrowing as you tried to keep your mind clear. This time, you properly felt his light stubble and mustache graze against your soft skin, heightening up your senses.

Once the kiss ended, Kyle pressed some more quick pecks on your cheek before burying his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. You were breathless, clinging onto him tight, not wanting this moment to end at all as you leaned into him, fingernails gently scratching against his nape. “Bloody gorgeous you are…” He croaked out against your neck, gently pressing soft kisses on your skin.

Warmth pooled in your stomach, your hips twitching unconsciously. He was so sickeningly sweet —you felt your heart growing more and more fond of him. Your body shuddered once he began lightly nipping on your skin with his teeth, testing the water and bloody hell, it was working. You didn’t even know you were sensitive in that area until now. “K-Kyle…” His name left your lips in the form of a shaky giggle, a bashful smile playing on your lips as you gently tugged on his hair with his fingers, earning a groan from him.

“Fucking hell, lovie…” He huffed, playfully yet lightly biting on your neck, eliciting a surprised squeak from you.

“Kyle!”

“Hush.” He peppered sweet licks on the place he had given you a bite. He pulled his head back slightly, eyes meeting yours once again.

He could feel the subtle tension in your muscles, the mild hesitation that seemed too familiar to him. Maybe you were scared of this softness just as much as he craved it. It wasn’t a bad kind of scared though, he knew that much.

“I have really bad luck with… all this.” He blurted out after a few seconds of silence, brown eyes fixed on yours, filled with vulnerability that he wasn’t reluctant on showing you anymore. He trusted you anyways. “I dunno, lovie. I have been goin’ on with my life thinking that I was just… not lovable at all. Got sick of being so alone all the time, of being left out a-and—” His voice cracked, his lips quickly pursing shut with a subtle hint of embarrassment. Not now, Garrick.

He cleared his throat, licking his bottom lip that suddenly felt dry. “You are the only one who makes me forget about the emptiness in my heart. I mean it. You are the only one who doesn’t make me feel like a fool, lovie… Ever since I met you, ever since we drank a few nights ago, every greeting of yours every morning— Fuck, makes me so warm.”

This was the real Kyle in front of you. You could finally see him beneath the flesh and bones. His words made your heart ache. Him? Unlovable? He was surrounded by the wrong people then because nothing in him could ever make him unlovable.

“It’s okay. I am also… not very good at all this.” You mumbled, unable to suppress a soft giggle from escaping your lips. Idiots, you both were. “And… don’t think that you are unlovable.”

Kyle nodded and pressed one more quick kiss on your lips, his heart hammering against his chest fast at your words, his hands fiddled with the hem of your pajama shirt, his fingers aching to lift it up. “Can I…?” He asked, his eyes focused on you so intently, as if trying to memorize your very soul.

With a nod from you, he gently eased your shirt off you, sliding it up your head before putting it on the couch behind you. His breath hitched once his eyes landed on your bare torso, lips parted in awe. Pretty. Prettiest.

You looked away in embarrassment, realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra. You didn’t know that someone would be there in the balcony when you had gone out for fresh air — that someone being Kyle. You wanted to say something, but your thoughts were cut off when you felt both of his hands gently caressing your breasts, sizing them up while his fingers dug in your soft flesh, causing your breath to hitch and body to tense up.

“Relax, lovie… Tell me if you don’t want it.” He pressed a kiss on your cheek, smiling warmly at you. Kisses, kisses, kisses — he had given you so many kisses already, made you feel so special. And now this. All the earlier stress from work today, all the bad memories just seemed to wash away as his hands lovingly fondled your breasts.

You took a few deep breaths, feeling your muscles relax. “Okay… Okay.” You nodded, nibbling on your bottom lip as your eyes watched him, his thumbs gently brushing against your nipples that had begun to harden up under the sweet attention that he was giving to your chest. A little squeak left your lips when his thumb pressed against your right nipple gently, your sensitivity causing you to accidentally buck your hips forward.

“Woah there…” He chuckled teasingly, pulling his hands away from your chest before he held onto your hips gently, keeping them still. You grumbled at how he was getting amused at every embarrassing thing your body was doing.

Kyle was truly taking pleasure at the little twitches in your body, and as much as he wanted to take you right this very second, he wanted to be patient, to gently coax you into fully relaxing. Only then was he going to fuck you. He gently lowered his head, ignoring the way his back was leaning forward in a somewhat awkward manner, his lips gently brushing against your right nipple.

“Can I?” He whispered, looking up at you from this angle, watching the way your brows were furrowed and lips were slightly parted, your head nodding too quickly. He slowly latched his mouth to your nipple, his tongue caressing the soft bud with care. You moaned softly, your fingers going to his head once again, clinging onto his hair.

He took his time sucking on both of your nipples, hands never leaving your hips. Each swirl of his tongue around on your sensitive skin caused you to shiver, chest rising and falling with each breath you took. Once your nipples were all wet and swollen, he began peppering gentle kisses on the softness of your breasts before eventually pulling his head back, licking his bottom lip in delight.

“You have no idea what you're doin’ to me, lovie…”

He slowly eased you off his lap before laying you down on the ground, making sure that the fluffy pillows you both were seated on earlier were now resting underneath you. Once he got on top of you, kneeling in between your legs, he slowly began to press soft kisses on your belly, his hands holding onto your hands. He smiled against your skin once he felt your fingers lacing with his, his lips trailing a line of kiss down to your belly button before resting on top of them hem of your pajama trousers.

“Can I, lovie?” He groaned softly while pressing kisses on your waist line, wanting to make sure that you wanted this as much as he did. He was kissing on a particular ticklish spot of yours, causing you to squirm and laugh shyly.

“Fuck— yes. Yes, Kyle…” You whimpered out in between your soft giggles, your fingers slowly leaving him once he pulled his hands back. He slowly tugged your pajamas down, sliding them off your ankles and socks-cladded feet. His eyes fell onto the pair of panties you wore, a wet patch visible on them. His heart bloomed with fondness at how adorable you looked like this, all flushed and squirmy, visibly needy.

His thumb brushed over the wet spot, gently outlining your folds from the fabric of your dampening panties. Your hips twitched, your hands desperately holding onto your breasts since they didn’t know what else to hold onto. His other hand gently fondled your thighs before reaching to slide your panties down, tossing them aside.

“Holy fuck…” He breathed out in awe once his eyes fell onto your glistening cunt. It was so fucking gorgeous, his lips trembling a bit. Fuck, how did he get so lucky? He looked at you to make sure you were okay, noticing how you looked so fuzzy with pleasure, an excited smile adorning your lips.

“Kiss…” You whined out softly, hands reaching forward, aching to hold his face. He chuckled under his breath and nodded, gently leaning down to press his lips against yours while your hands cupped his face, his tongue finding yours. While he kissed you passionately, his fingers reached down to gently caress your wet folds, sliding his fingers up and down your cunt. Your whimpers were sucked in by his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as your hands held onto his face dearly, your hips bucking forward to somehow get more contact with his hand.

He slowly pulled away from the kiss, his other hand going in between your legs too. His thumb cautiously brushed over your clit, feeling it pulsate and twitch underneath. God, just how needy were you? It was adorable, causing him to smile affectionately, his thumb beginning to rub your clit in circular motions. A breathy moan left your lips, your hand coming to cover your mouth because what if your noises are just so damn annoying to him? But the glare he shot you after that made you uncover your mouth once again. “No need to hold in your noises.” He grumbled softly.

You nodded sheepishly, your body struggling to stay still as his thumb continued to rub your sensitive clit, his finger gently coming to circle your entrance, feeling how warm it was. “Can I push my fingers in?” He asked softly, leaning down to press a peck on your forehead. You nodded, taking a few deep breaths to relax your muscles.

He started with one finger, gently sliding it into your tight entrance with surprising ease, probably due to how wet you were. Your walls tightened around his fingers as he gently began to rub it inside you, his thumb continuing to mindlessly fondle with your clit.

“Mmh… Kyle…” You let out a soft moan, eyes glossy due to how good it felt, your nerves feeling tingly — in a good way.

“Want more?”

“Yes—!”

Kyle slowly eased in another finger inside you, and soon one more. He couldn’t help it, you were being so good for him. He gently began thrusting his three fingers in and out of your tight cunt, stretching you nicely, his thumb never stopping from giving your needy clit some attention.

Your eyes rolled back, lips parted as your hips gently bucked back and forth in sync with his fingers. His fingers were rubbing against the sweet spongy spots inside you, causing your face to contort in pleasure. Even your own fingers couldn’t make you feel so good.

It wasn’t long until you felt your walls tightening up around his fingers, breathing getting shaky as your mind became blurry. “S-So close…! P-Please— Need it, need it.” You mindlessly babbled, almost sobbing out once the wave of pleasure hit you hard, warmth bursting in your stomach as your climax hit you hard, your body squirming. Kyle’s eyes were wide with adoration, his fingers slowly down but never stopping, letting you ride your orgasm out while his eyes looked down at the sweet, sticky white cum on the base of his fingers — your cum.

“Fuck… You are so good f’me, lovie.” He eased his fingers out of your pretty cunt, leaning down to gently kiss your chin, your teary eyes fluttering open to look at him. He smiled at you before gently putting his wet fingers in his mouth, lips nicely closing around his fingers as his tongue licked your cum off them. Your eyes widened in a mixture of surprise, arousal and embarrassment. He was actually licking your cum.

He savored the bittersweet taste before pulling his fingers out of his mouth, grinning cheekily at you. “Tastiest thing I ever tasted.” He commented, earning a gentle swat on his arm from you.

“Cheeky bastard…”

“You know I am.” He cooed before slowly sliding his hoodie off his head, revealing his nicely muscular torso.

You gawked at him, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as your eyes roamed over his upper half, looking at his smooth skin that was adorned with some little scars here and there, a bigger one staring from his waist and probably leading to his back. He's pretty.

He noticed your reaction, the cheeky grin never leaving his lips. He knew that he was good looking enough, and the fact that you find him attractive as well somewhat boosted his confidence even more — in a very good way.

Your hands gently reached up, caressing along the small scars on his shoulders before moving to rest against his muscular chest. “You look nice…” You finally managed to gather some courage to compliment him, all the anxiety just melting from your body. Your thighs were still trembling, the wetness continuing to pool in between your legs. Your eyes looked down, catching a glimpse of light happy trail leading down to his sweatpants and them— Holy fuck. You felt your mouth water once your eyes landed on his sweatpants, a visible erection visible there that you seemingly hadn’t noticed before. Your mind blanked out for a few seconds before you quickly looked back at his face, catching him staring at you with a knowing gaze.

“Do you want me, lovie? Want me in you?” He asked, tone a bit firm yet gentle at the same time — highlighting how he truly cared about you. He didn’t want to fuck you if you didn’t want it. You nibbled on your bottom lip for a few seconds, staring at him with a hazy gaze as you thought over his question.

Did you want him? Oh fuck. So much.

“Yes… But I-I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” You responded in a meek voice, causing his eyes to soften up.

“Trust me. Gonna take ya out on lots of dates after this, I promise.” He whispered, words full of sincerity. With one final kiss on your lips, he slowly tugged his sweatpants down alongside his briefs, not bothering to keep them. He tossed them aside before gently resting back in between your legs.

His cock was so hard, precum already sliding down his length. He was nicely sized with a big length and an even better girth. It would probably destroy you if you weren’t so wet right now.

He paused for a while, brows furrowing as he looked around. “Don’t have a condom, fuck.”

“I’m on pills.” You reassured him. It was true that you were on pills, despite having barely anyone to hook up with. Maybe you were just waiting for someone, someone like him — someone that reminded you of the sunset with how warm they were, somehow who eased the storm inside your head. He was just so perfect in every way, and he didn’t even know it. Fucking evil.

Kyle nodded, gently spreading your legs apart with his hands, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh of your thighs, massaging your muscles. “Gonna fuck you so nicely, lovie. I promise I will.” He said, words dripping with genuine warmth. He slowly pressed the tip of his cock in front of your swollen clit, nudging it — like a kiss. He began rubbing your clit with the tip of his cock, his hand gripping the shaft to keep his throbbing erection still. You let out a breathy sigh, melting into the pillows beneath you while he continued to tease you.

“Kyle, please…” You groaned shyly, voice laced with mild frustration and overwhelming need. You needed him in you, to feel his skin against yours so you could assure him of how lovely and special he truly is — a fucking gem in the rough battleground he had to face so much.

Kyle nodded, eyes glinting at amusement at your pleas as his hands moved up to gently hold onto your waist, aligning his cock in front of your entrance. “Ready?”

With one final nod from you, he gently began pushing the tip of his cock in your tightness, a blissful groan leaving his lips as he wetness engulfed him slowly. He made sure to look at your face for any signs of discomfort from the stretch, because fuck it was a lot. He found none and that was the green light for him to slowly push his cock in, inch by inch, until it was nice and snug in your tight cunt, some of his public hair tickling your skin.

“You okay?” He asked, one hand reaching up to gently brush some of your hair off your forehead which was a bit wet from sweat now, placing a kiss in between your brows while you nodded.

“Mmph—… So good…” You slurred out, feeling so full with his cock all stuffed in you. Your hands made their way to rest on his back as he leaned down on you, your fingers rubbing gently on his nape. “L-Like you a lot, Kyle. Don’t want you to think that you are not loveable… O-Or that you are a fool. You are so perfect in my eyes…” You fumbled on your words in the midst of the pleasurable haze, though your words were as genuine as they could — your heart speaking to him.

Kyle’s heart skipped a beat at your words, his brown eyes softening up. Fuck, you’re just so sweet, filling his empty heart. He smiled to himself and nodded, pressing soft kisses on the tip of your nose, causing you to let out a heartful giggle. He chuckled alongside you, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately before he slowly began to thrust his cock in and out of your tightness, his right hand clasping onto your waist again while his other hand moved in between your legs, thumb resuming to gently play with your sensitive clit.

His thrusts were gentle and paced nicely, not too agonizingly slow and not too fast. This was all to give you pleasure, to show how you had made your way into his heart so easily. He rested his head in the crook of your neck while your fingers gently dug into his back, not too hard to leave any marks. Breathy, blissful moans left your lips while a smile adorned your lips — just refusing to go away.

You could hear his soft groans echoing in your ears, his lips peppering kisses on your earlobe and down your jaw. Your skins were pressed together, making everything so humid as he kept a steady pace, the tip of his cock gently slamming against your cervix, causing your toes to curl up. His girth rubbed against your spongy sweet spots just perfectly, making you literally swoon while your eyes struggled to keep open, mind fogged with this feeling that was making you melt into mush.

“So tight— lovie. So perfect and warm f’me…” He breathed out, thumb sliding up and down your sweet clit as he hips moved alongside yours, skin gently slapping with one another. His musk mixed with yours, alongside the perfume that he had worn earlier, making his head spin.

You couldn’t stop a tear from escaping your eyes, your sniffle catching Kyle’s attention as he pulled his head back from your neck to look at you, your eyes all teary. “Feels too good?” He asked, kissing the tear away as you nodded, whimpering softly as your lips quivered.

“Never felt so good before…”

“Me too.”

A familiar pressure began building up in your lower abdomen once again as he continued playing with your bundle of nerves, cock continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, balls smacking against your skin. “Close…” You mewled out, the pressure feeling stronger than before as your fingernails dug into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him as close as you could, your movement causing the swollen tip of his cock to hit your cervix once again, causing your mind to go all white as your orgasm hit you once again, your body convulsing in pleasure as you cried out meekly, his cock coaxing you to ride your pleasure out while your folds fluttered around him. a white creamy ring made its way on his shaft, which was your doing. Your brain felt so foggy, body lightheaded and relaxed as he pressed soft kisses on your cheeks.

“Good God… Such a perfect thing ya are, cummin’ on my cock. Can I cum in you, lovie?” He grunted, his own orgasm approaching as his thrusts got a bit sloppy from the wet mess you created, his cock throbbing inside your tight walls. You nodded breathlessly and his balls tightened almost immediately, his orgasm hitting him in waves as thick ropes of cum spurted out of his cock, painting your insides white.

He didn’t pull his cock out once his thrusts slowed down before coming to a stop, his hands sliding up to cup your face lovingly, looking at how pretty you looked after being fucked, letting himself relish the way you were wrapped around his cock. An adorable mess actually.

“Kyle…” You shyly smiled at him, eyes half open while your hands moved to hold onto his shoulders, your body feeling so damn sensitive.

After a few more minutes of just basking in your warmth, Kyle slowly pulled his cock out of you, some drops of thick cum sliding down your cunt. It made him want to fuck you again, but he didn’t want to tire you any more than you already were.

“Let’s get you cleaned up…” He slowly got up on his feet and searched for your bathroom in the apartment, coming back after a few minutes with a pair of wet towels. He began cleaning your body, which was still trembling in pleasure — the towel gently gliding against the skin and in between your legs, cautiously cleaning your inner thighs.

“Pillows got dirty.” He cheekily mumbled, causing you to pout and look at him lazily.

“You will clean it… S’your fault.”

“Fine.”

After he was done cleaning you up, he gently eased you up on your feet, leading you into your bedroom, his hands carrying both of your clothes and putting them to the side, tossing the towel in the laundry — already memorizing each corner of your apartment.

He went to the bathroom momentarily to quickly clean himself up before he came back, guiding you to gently lay on your bed, your hand grabbing his wrist. “Stay with me…” You tiredly giggled, mustering up as much strength as you had to pull him on the bed too.

Kyle’s heart almost exploded in his chest at your words, his breath hitching as he looked at you in awe before nodding. Not bothering to wear any clothes, you both slid into the covers, his arms wrapping around you while your head neatly tucked into your neck, one leg hooking around his waist. “Sleep well, lovie… Gonna be here with ya when ya wake up.” He promised, placing a soft kiss on the side of your head as he felt your breathing calming down, your body and mind soon entering a state of peaceful slumber — probably the best sleep you had in months.

You never put a label on your relationship with Gaz. It was definitely not casual — something more for sure, especially with the blossoming feelings in your heart that could be described as nothing but romantic. Love, even. You didn't know what properly being in love felt like, maybe whatever this was that you felt towards him. He had taken you out for a date to an amusement park before he had to go for his deployment. A date. It meant something to both of you, right?

“Only three weeks, lovie. Promise I’ll be back soon.” He said softly while standing in front of your front door as he prepared to leave, reassuring you even though he had spent the whole last weeks cuddling you and trying to tell you that it will be quick. Your eyes were all teary, mind overwhelmed with anxiety because you had no idea how the whole thing even works. You just prayed that he would come back safe.

You nodded at him, handing him a box of cookies you had baked for him after hours of watching tutorials. “For you…” You sheepishly mumbled, wiping the tears that had formed in your eyes.

Kyle gratefully accepted the box before pulling you in a tight hug, smothering your face up with kisses. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Fuck three weeks. It had been five. You had stopped receiving messages from him after the two week mark, and all you felt was nauseous from how anxious you felt, hearing the loud beating of blood in your ears while your stomach uncomfortably twisted.

It wasn't until this morning that Kyle had finally texted you with a “Coming today.” — so painfully dry in comparison to his other messages but you could only rationally conclude that something must have happened in the mission. You were frustrated, yes, but that was just a result of being so overwhelmed for the past five weeks.

It was raining heavily today, the sounds of the rain sliding against the glass of your window alongside the muffled thunder somewhat soothing your nerves.

Though for Kyle, the rain was a mess. His flight had just landed an hour or two ago, and now he was at the base. The traffic was fucking jammed around the area, and his teammates couldn’t give him a ride home too because one of the SUVs had to go for repairing. Just his bloody luck. He didn’t want to keep you waiting anymore, he couldn’t. Not after everything he had gone through in this mission.

Blood was dripping down Kyle’s forehead as he struggled to maintain his vision, hiding behind a wall while gunshots roared behind him. The enemies had outnumbered them badly, and he had to hide here until more of the team arrived.

He didn’t want to die. God, not here, not now. Not after just figuring out so much about himself, not after just meeting you. Oh, you. You were there, waiting in your apartment. And fuck, he was so late. He had said three weeks, but it had been four starting today.

Wasn’t his fault though, even though it felt like one. They had gained new intel on the enemy last minute after what felt like a failed mission, and they knew that they couldn’t leave it.

God, he was terrified. It wasn’t often that he felt true fear. But he felt it now, only because he didn’t want to leave you alone, not at least without telling you how he felt about you. To expressing his undying feelings for you, to—

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud thunderclap, a groan leaving his lips. Slowly but surely, he made up his mind. He was going to run over to the apartment complex. It wasn’t that far away from here and he had enough stamina, plus he didn’t give a fuck about the heavy rain.

With his duffel bag in his hand, he sprinted out of the base, legs carrying him towards the streets. His blue cap was soaking, barely covering his face or providing him some sort of cover as he ran and ran through the slipper pavement, ignoring the ache in his head that was a result from the wound he gad gotten, although not fatal but still painful, a bandage now place on the sidre of his forehead.

Eventually reaching the apartment complex you both lived in, he breathed heavily, standing outside the building, not caring about being all wet. Still, hopefully nothing inside the duffel bag was ruined. He sent you a quick text, asking you to meet him outside.

You had rushed out of the apartment building as soon as you got his text, heart beating fast due to the sudden rush of adrenaline, a jacket hastily put on you while you held an umbrella. Your eyes looked around the foggy street before you spotted him, a big smile coming on your lips.

“Kyle!” You gasped in pure excitement, carefully making your way over to him. Though as soon as he saw you, he dropped his duffel back and rushed over to you, his arms pulling you in fast and tight, causing the umbrella to drop from your hand and fall onto the ground.

“Lovie! G-God, fuck… So sorry for leaving you… So sorry—” His voice cracked as he fumbled out every explanation he could form, his mind already overwhelmed at the sight of you. God, he missed you so much. His arms were wrapped around you tight, facing burying into the crook of your neck, feeling the familiar scent cloud his senses and calm him down.

“Kyle… It’s okay. Hey, s’okay…” You mumbled softly, still a bit confused though he could explain it all later. Right now, all that mattered was him. “We are gettin’ wet, we should— Wait, is that a bandage? Are you ok—”

But before you could finish your sentence, his mouth had already found its way to yours, kissing you gently. Your eyes immediately fluttered shut, your hand reaching up to gently take his cap off his head and hold it as you kissed him back, both of your arms wrapping around his neck while his hands held your waist.

The rain fell on both of you, your clothes clinging to your skin while a cool breeze brushed past you both. But he was already lost in the taste of your lips, and the feel of you in his arms. For the first time, Kyle felt like he was worth something, like he was not alone anymore. That he's loved.

He gently parted from the kiss, whispering gently into your ear, words that made your heart swell up in affection that you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

“I love you, lovie.”

And God, you loved him too. More than anything.

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