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lycanpunk666 · 2 days

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Beloved Wretch

It had been only a few days since Ezekiel had stowed away in the plane for the new season after being so unceremoniously booted off. What had he done? What was so wrong that it had caused Chris to throw him out after his worst crime may have been talking too much? He saw everyone else’s looks, too. The way that they pretended to be subtle in their bitter glares and mutters. They thought he didn’t notice. He did, but his father had always told him to hold his head high (though that may have been referring to his posture). They just weren’t cool enough for him! And Ezekiel was cool. They just couldn’t tell. Sucks to be them. The Zeek was gonna win. Even if it didn’t… look like it yet! But he will, in due time. You just wait.

But Ezekiel had grown hungry. He had been here for several days in these vents and he had quickly regretted it. He had pinpricks of light that sliced out from the vents that cut into his home like radiant knives. And he savored it. Everything else was dark. So dark that he knew his pupils were like saucers so they could take any amount of light that came to them. His cat, Jessy, did that all the time back at home when it got dark. Freaked him out a little. He knew the spelling was wrong, but he was never good at that anyway. Everyone knew what he meant, anyway.

They looked at him strange, though. Just like the other contestants did. Like he was stupid. Like he didn’t know any better.

“There’re so many ways to spell Jessie, and you had to pick the one that’s wrong. How stupid can you be?”

He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t. He deserved to be treated like anyone else. He had a good head. He deserved to be treated like anyone else. He had a good mind.

All he needed was something to eat.

He stares through the lights in the vents, pressing his nose wordlessly as he gazed upon his fellow contestants.

They’d forgotten about him. Hadn’t they?

As those in the first class sipped what smelled like mocktail and feasted upon sweets and shrimp in glorious feats of decadents. And Ezekiel’s stomach moaned and growled. He presses his face into the vent so hard that the cutting light was literal and present upon the bridge of his nose. And he didn’t care.

He watched as one of the girls— Lindsay? sipped a mocktail, leaning against the stool at the bar as she giggled at something that new guys, Alejandro, said. He had her wrapped around his little finger with just a few compliments, and he didn’t like it one bit. Lindsay HAD a boyfriend! Where WAS Tyler, anyway? He can’t see him here, and he didn’t like what Alejandro was doing. He didn’t know his intent, but he’s seen and heard enough about this guy that he didn’t like it. Ezekiel wished he could be there. Tell him off. Would he have listened? Does it matter, so long as he was there? Was it selfish to think about it as a chance to be present rather than just helping his friend?

He watched and strained his ears to listen to the din of the cabin, and the warm ambience of light that washed into the place.

And Ezekiel felt warm tears fall upon his cheek. He didn’t feel it until he could taste the salt. First thing he’s tasted in ages.

He was crying.

He was crying, and it was all beautiful, and he was so, so hungry.

He was in hell, looking at heaven, and he ached for the companionship, for the din and the words that floated without care, for the light and the food and the warmth and everything that he saw here.

And he cried.

——————

It had been a week and a half since he entered the vents.

And something was wrong with the place. The slices of light were gone from the vents, and he was blind. He could hear, however, as he crawled upon all fours and his stomach devoured itself.

He still needed to win. And to win, he needed to live. They’d love him if he survived. He was brave.

He needed food. And he needed a shower. He was left here in the circular vents, crawling on his hands and bare feet, covered in filth that he had no choice but to keep.

And he could not hear the words anymore. The individual voices. He could hear sounds. But not words. He strained, and clawed at the walls, but nothing could be heard. He knew they could not hear him, either.

But he did hear something. The faint scratching of claws against metal.

For an insane moment, he wondered if they were his own. His nails had grown (was it right that they had grown this fast), but he had filed them down to keep them from turning into claws. He was still a person. He still had a mind.

But scratching meant rats.

And rats meant food.

——————

It was just crumbs. It was just crumbs, and they just made it worse, even when he licked the hot metal until his cracked tongue bled.

The rats themselves did not taste that bad, however.

Nothing did, he supposed, at this point.

——————

There was something inside the rat. Something rotten. Something alive. Not a disease. But not… NOT a disease.

There was something alive. And it twisted through his gut and his veins and his brain and it began to speak to him in his head in song.

Stupid beast.

Stupid, brainless thing.

They’ve forgotten you.

They wanted to, too. They hate you. Less than hate, worse yet. They feel nothing at all for you.

But don’t worry.

I do.

They don’t remember your face. Your name has not been on their tongue for ages.

But I am here. I am here to help you. And I will allow you to live. And you will be grateful for it. Beloved boy. Beloved, wretched thing.

He was scared.

But what could he do?

A voice, after all, is a voice (even if imagined).

And it was better than silence.

——————

He doesn’t know how long it’s been anymore. He doesn’t know how long he’s been blinded here. How long his eyes have tried and failed to scrape for an ounce of light and have given up. And how his body has grown… unable to scratch his way around the vents.

He collapses upon the vents, struggling to draw breath.

He can’t die.

The rats have had their fill, too, when he hadn’t gotten the chance to devour them, too (and the worms within them grow into colonies within him).

He’s pretty sure he’s entirely lost two of his toes, and half of his right ear.

It doesn’t matter anymore.

Nothing matters.

His hair’s fallen out, too, in clumps. He tried to eat that, too, but nearly choked to death from it.

He had something he wanted to do. Something that kept him here. What was it?

He can’t remember.

He can’t die.

Sniveling wretch, The voice sung. You still have food. Don’t you? You still have sustenance.

Look to your hands.

The blinded wretch cannot see them, but he looks down nonetheless.

And at last, he understood.

He sticks his thumb into his mouth. It tasted disgusting due to the level of grime caked upon it, but he didn’t care about it. He sucked upon the thing, and it brought him such a brief sense of comfort. A brief relaxation in his stiffened shoulders that brought him back to when he was small.

When he was tiny, and cared for, and loved dearly. And nothing bad has happened to him yet.

He ached for the feeling.

Do it. The worms whispered, in chorus.

Do it and feed us. Beloved wretch. Beloved boy.

There was a crack.

As his mouth filled with blood.

He would have cried if his throat were not bone dry.

If his tear ducts were not barren like a desert from all the tears he has already lost. And the worst part was that it was wonderful. Just like the rats, it was absolutely… delicious. Once he severed the bone from its joint, it made a satisfying pop sort of sound. It didn’t hurt as much afterwards. It didn’t even make him all that sick.

He was bleeding quite a bit, but he just held it against his tattered shirt.

The claw that had formed on his thumb scraped against his already-ruined throat, but he didn’t care. It was food.

It was all he could do not to descend upon another.

But the things inside his blood and stomach sang to him once again.

He doesn’t need all of his fingers, anyway.

——————

The thing formerly referred to as Ezekiel was not grateful as Chris McLean, the mad host, pulled it from its prison.

The light burned its eyes, and it could not do anything but scrape and claw, finally drawing blood as its claws dug into the mad host’s skin before being thrown into a cage.

It was provided solace briefly from the blanket thrown over the cage, despite the taunts beyond the curtain.

But it realized, just a few moments later, that it was not afforded salvation.

The curtain is taken off, and the gaunt creature with a ruined head that lulled to the side stares with the vaguest recognition towards a small… crowd.

It knew these people, somewhat.

They stared at it. Like something was wrong with it.

Nothing at all is wrong with you, beloved.

It’s like you thought.

You’re too good for them.

They gasp because they are in awe.

You are better. Better than them. Pay no mind.

The wretch’s hungry, hungry eyes glance through the onlookers as its breath huffs and wheezes pained breath from lips that have long been stained with filth and crusted-over blood.

Until its eyes once again fall onto a familiar face. Big blue eyes and long blonde hair that still shone from her meticulous care.

Lindsay.

She…

Why was she…

Looking at him like that?

A name left her lips. Confused, mostly, with pain pricking through her tone.

“Ezekiel?”

Ezekiel.

The wretch-

Ezekiel. He had a name. He had a face. He had a mind.

Barely present.

And…

Ezekiel…

Ezekiel wants to scream. He wants to yell words, to beg for mercy and forgiveness, to sob and cry for his family, his friends, for mercy! Mercy! HOPE! ANYTHING!

He reaches out. Through the bars of his cage, with his hand that barely had three fingers left, all ruined and ripped with cracked claws. And he sobs. He sobs without tears.

But he has cried so much that his tear ducts are dried, many times over. And the rancid air and dust of the vents, and poorly healed wounds, and the worms from the rats that twisted through his blood like a serpent choked out his throat and lungs in much the same fashion as a noose. And he could not speak. He roared and moaned and barked and sobbed tearlessly and breathlessly.

Like the mindless beast he was.

#tdi Ezekiel #td ezekiel #tdi #tdi fanfic #tumblr fanfic #punksters art #psychological horror #cw violence #cw cannibalism #Ezekiel angst

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strangefable · 11 months

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just have to crylaugh when a perfectly random innocuous thing slams into you like a fucking freight train and reminds you that no, actually, you're never going to stop being traumatized about your dead parents

#just kidding i'm actually such a fucking sobbing wreck i called my boss and took the day off #over a stupid fucking youtube video of all things #i can't remember my dad's voice and it's killing me #so many little things are just... gone... forgotten to time #and i'm aching so bad #hey universe maybe next time just send someone to stab me it would hurt less #sorry to traumadump on tungl dot com and whatever but i need to get this out somehow and this is what's open in front of me so... sorry #maybe i'll get embarrassed or some shit and delete it later idk #but right now i just fucking need to pour this out somewhere that's louder than just screaming into my pillow #on grief #tw death #tw dead parents #tw grief #and to anyone who's worried i'm sorry i'll be fine i promise i'm just having a bad grief day they happen #and i get stupid and scream so i don't choke like i used to #this is probably healthier than bottling it up right? lmao i don't even fucking know i'm just a wreck don't mind me

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thatgirlonstage · 4 months

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Holds Natsuki Subaru in my hands

#re:zero #tal reads #I have. my current super loose overarching theory is #that in some grander Fate’s Design sense this boy is SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD #I don’t know WHY but I think he’s not supposed to survive #and that whatever Satella did with the return by death thing was basically a like #glitch in the universe that forces it to keep retrying until it finds the one (1) reality where he survives #you know your dr strange ‘in how many realities do we win’ ‘just one’ type thing #my WILDLY speculative theory about this is that there was another whole timeline that Subaru has forgotten #and that the entire story is a time travel/resurrection spell to save him gone wonky as hell #where the universe knows he isn’t supposed to be alive so IT KEEPS TRYING TO KILL HIM #but every time it succeeds it has to reset and let him try again #I HAVE VERY LITTLE EVIDENCE FOR THIS. TO BE CLEAR.#like I have a LITTLE but it is 92% just me Making Shit Up that sounds vaguely possible #but. regardless. my theory is that it’s not Like This just bc subaru sucks #it’s like this bc the game is rigged both for and against him simultaneously #so he’s gonna survive but it’s gonna suck the WHOLE time

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cockaiine · 2 months

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nanami’s side of the bed wouldn’t even be called nanami’s anymore. you sleep there nearly every day, blaming it on how the pillows smell of him.

nanami’s clothes aren’t his anymore, you're sleeping in his shorts and t-shirt tonight. you wore his shirt yesterday, and took his ties for some clothes experiments last week.

nanami’s sacred pens are no longer his own, he finds them on the table after you tried to scribble up something and forgot to put them back.

nanami’s mugs are now shared, always in the dishwasher even when he doesn’t recall using them at all.

nanami’s thoughts don’t belong just to him anymore. you’d bug him about it all day if he doesn’t share what he’s thinking — so he, with an exasperated sigh, tells you what’s on his mind.

nanami’s salary doesn’t go straight to his savings account like it used to, instead taking a portion of it to spend on you. ‘you’ means gifts, flowers, dates, trips, trinkets, and so on.

nanami’s weekends aren’t as quiet as they once were; now they’re chaotic, full of so much of you.

nanami’s fridge is full nowadays. candy, leftovers, ice cream, cheese, cake, bread, and the list goes on. so many things that don’t go along with his diet fill the once-empty shelves.

nanami doesn’t spend as much time in his study as before you moved in. now old books are left to collect dust, long forgotten in a room that’s never lit. even when he decides to pick one up and read it, it’s the minute that he sees your face the book is tossed away.

nanami’s happiness still comes from days off, but now it’s because those days are spent with you. days when he slept long and ignores the world are long gone, now he gets to sit and focus on you, watching as everything else becomes nothing but background noise.

nanami has always been sure he’s not looking for marriage, at least not right now. but he swears that ring looks so perfect for you. there’s no way he’d miss it.

nanami stands in front of the bathroom mirror 5 minutes late every day because you’re still figuring out how to fix his tie the right way without any help. he can’t seem to rush you, though — what’s being precisely on time have on your little giggles as you sit on the sink and struggle to finish a task he could have done in under a minute?

nanami has been spending so much time eating as of late, more time than he can afford. while he used to finish a meal in approximately fifteen minutes, now dinners could stretch to two hours. he couldn’t get off the table early when you sit across from him, talking and joking and doing anything that’s not eating. he simply can’t possibly not indulge in the little conversations, appreciating every moment he gets to spend in your presence. nanami’s life wouldn’t even be called his anymore. you’re a storm, invading his life all at once, bringing in your chaos along with you. you’ve infatuated him, you’ve assailed his senses and changed his very being. every time nanami’s eyes align with yours, he prays your presence isn’t a fleeting one. he silently hopes you don’t leave as suddenly as you came, that you plan to stay.

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earthtooz · 1 year

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fluff with a lot of angst, reader is injured and in hospital for one scene but it's not graphic, lovesick!bakugou

during the many years you’ve loved bakugou katsuki, you have only seen him cry three times.

the first time, you were alarmed. where you fell asleep on the couch awaiting your boyfriend’s return, you did not expect to wake up to the sound of sniffles and the sight of drying tears.

“katsuki? what’s the matter?” you asked cautiously, immediately sitting up to wipe his tears away.

your touch, like a healing balm to the blond, lets you treat him like glass when both of you know he is nothing akin to fragile.

“‘s nothin’,” he gruffly huffs, voice cracking a little.

“if you say so,” you murmur skeptically, knowing better than to prod when it’s bakugou involved.

“were ya waitin’ for me?”

you nod. “i thought we could eat together but- what time is it?”

“almost nine.”

“oh. i thought we could eat dinner together but your patrol must have ended a lot later.”

his heart aches pitifully, worsening when he watches you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to come home so late.”

“it’s okay, i get it.”

“we can still eat together, if that’s okay,” he grumbles, looking away bashfully and missing the way your face brightens.

“that sounds lovely, i’ll go heat up dinner-“

“-no, i’ll do it. it’s my fault for coming home later, i’ll call you when it's done.”

bakugou is out of your sight before you can argue any further. as you watch your boyfriend disappear, you’re left pondering on the couch as to why he was acting so uncharacteristically. did he have a bad day? did something happen at work? was he unable to save someone? that’s can't be the reason, he always-

“dinner’s done!” your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, disrupting your thoughts.

when you asked, it didn't sound like he had a terrible day, in fact it sounds like he had a successful patrol, but you cannot fathom any other reason for his melancholy, but if he’s forgotten about it, then you will too.

but... bakugou doesn’t forget. he still remembers when midoriya first alluded to the inheritance of his quirk from all might, he remembers the night vision goggles kirishima broke when trying to save him that one time, he remembers your favourite things and what makes you happy; he remembers everything.

and he’ll never forget that the tears he shed tonight were over the fact that bakugou will never get to show you how much he loves you.

bakugou katsuki, for the first time, realised just how painfully human he is.

he has a heart that beats for you, limbs that longingly ache to be near you whenever he’s not, a mind devoted to you and a cursed mouth so incapable of expressing it all.

if he could, he would wrestle the night sky to give its stars to you instead because you love stars. you love the stupid things in life that bakugou can't give. he can’t give you everything you could ever want and with that realisation, bakugou discovered just how beatable he was.

you may never know the multitude of bakugou’s love for you, and that fact alone brings him to tears as he gazed upon your sleeping figure on the couch, resting peacefully until his arrival.

the second time, you wake up confused.

the lights in the room are dim, there's a machine beeping intermittently and you think it's a heartbeat monitor but you don't really think too hard about it because your body hurts.

you have to blink a few times to get the blurriness out of your eyes, but you eventually comprehend the sterile walls of a hospital room. then the memories come back one by one, a patrol gone awry, evacuating citizens and... ah, being slammed into a wall back-first by the villain. explains the pain.

then you register the looming figure beside your bed, a pair of widened vermillion eyes gazing into your own with untameable blond hair to match, you can't help the smile from spreading on your face when you see your lover.

"hey," you cough weakly, throat dry and scratchy from lack of use.

next thing you know, bakugou's bulky figure is draped over yours, forehead resting on your chest as his arms gently snake around your torso, bringing you into his chest and pressing himself firmly against you.

you feel him; his relief, his sorrow, his devotion, his painful sobs as he shakes against you and it kills you that the only thing you have the strength to do is run a hand through his hair. you want to kiss him, to tell him that it's okay and that there's nothing to cry about, that you're here and nothing will change that, but you're so very sore and barely in tact.

"don't do this shit again," he threatens weakly and you feel his tears seep through your hospital gown. "you had me so fuckin' worried, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, i can't believe you'd do this to me, do you know how much it sucked to be without you?"

"sorry, katsuki," you whisper and he looks up at you, glossy eyes and quivering lip.

"promise me you'll never do this again."

cupping his cheeks with your hands, there's a rush of deja vu as your thumbs catch his tears. "i don't know how realistic that promise is given that this is my job-"

"-your job is to save lives, not go crashin' into buildings, idiot."

you laugh gently, a stabbing pain making itself known in your gut when you do. your wince doesn't go unnoticed by bakugou, who knows you better than the back of his hand and his heart lurches at the slightest evidence that you're in pain. "still, i won't make promises i can't keep, you know how our jobs are, katsuki."

he frowns, furrowing his brows. "then i'll promise to always be there for you. don't go where i can't."

"that's not realistic."

"watch me."

"okay then, deal."

there are questions you still want answers to, but for now, you'll let the blond continue crying with his ear pressed against your chest.

(you won't ever know about the few days bakugou has spent in your hospital ward, absolutely miserable as he looks upon your gaze with anticipation. he hates how helpless he is, that he can't do anything to rid of this horrible feeling in his chest but wait for you to wake up. he hates that he can't any semblance of peace, he hates the man that love has made him, but most importantly, he hates being without you.

you won't ever know the struggle it was to get bakugou out of your room for even just an hour. midoriya and kirishima had to wrestle him in hopes of getting some proper food together, and yaomomo and todoroki had to literally block the door with various items to prevent his entrance.

you won't ever know how alienated bakugou felt, unable to face your shared home without you in it. without your music playing, without your shoes messily thrown at the genkan, without your comforting presence to return to when all is said and done, there isn't much of a home for bakugou.

you won't ever know how desperately bakugou clung to your hand, fiddling with it whenever he needed a safe haven.

you won't ever know the amount of tears the blond had shed by your side, hunched over your bed, with nothing and no one to comfort him but the sound of the heartbeat monitor.)

the third time, you cry too.

it's your wedding day.

when the news first came out, japan practically roared with excitement and anticipation for the special day that their two favourite heroes would wed. the enthusiasm has not dimmed down even months later, and now, as you're one door away from your lover, you feel it buzzing in your bones.

it all goes by in a blur. one second you're about to trip over yourself in nervousness and the next, you're walking down the aisle with a stunned bakugou failing to keep his composure at the altar. despite the amount of close friends and family around you, all you can see is the love of your life who looks at you with unmatched adoration and affection in those ruby irises of his.

up close, however, all you can see are the tears forming in his eyes, and his first sniffle takes everyone in the room by surprise. no doubt, this is their first and last time seeing their beloved hero cry.

more tears are shed and then, it's just waterworks from practically everyone in the room as bakugou breaks down even more.

thank goodness for a private wedding because you know he is never going to live it down if the press got their hands on this image.

a close friend of yours hands you a handkerchief and you wipe away bakugou's tears with a teasing smile, unable to keep your wobbly laughter at bay as your lover- japan's symbol of victory and heroism, turns to nothing but putty in your hands. he lets you treat him so delicately because you've seen him at his lowest, most shaken, and most unlovable, yet still decided to stay.

"sorry," he apologises as you dab at his tears, words reserved for you and you alone. "you're just so... divine. i can't believe i'm marryin' you."

you feel your first tear roll down your cheek and bakugou catches it before it can go too far, wiping it away.

"such an embarrassin' way to start our wedding," he grumbles.

"embarrassing for the both of us, but memorable no doubt," you try to reason.

"everything is memorable as long as i'm with you."

"such a sap," you whack his shoulder lightly. "have you been saving that line for today specifically?"

"you should wait til the vows. bet mine are better than yours."

"i didn't know you could be a poet."

"only for you."

"well then, i can't wait to find out what else you are, katsuki."

"i'll always be yours."

you laugh, "i'm glad to hear that 'cause i love you."

"i love you even more, i'm crying just to prove it."

"your tears are dangerous."

"yeah well, you're marryin' these tears so."

"like i said, i can't wait."

#don't talk to me abt this. this was so bad #lmk if there are warnings i missed #i'm pretty sure this is gn!reader i mean i'm gender neutral so hey if the shoe fits #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugo katsuki #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader

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tacticaldiary · 8 months

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A Fighting Chance

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

Part 2, Masterlist,

"What're those?"

"Papers."

Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.

The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.

It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.

There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.

But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.

He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"

"I want a divorce."

And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.

"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.

Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."

"I did. I won't sign them."

"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.

"I don't."

She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.

"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."

"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.

Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.

When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.

"Why?"

Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.

"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.

"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"

Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.

"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.

"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."

It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.

"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.

He's about to lose her.

Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.

It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.

"I don't think you do."

Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.

Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.

"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.

If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.

"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."

She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."

"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"

"Simon-"

"A week."

"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"

"One week."

She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.

"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."

"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.

"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.

Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.

When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?

Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.

He takes her in quietly for a moment.

The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.

Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.

A right fucking bastard he was for it.

"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"

For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.

But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.

And it's all he needs.

A fighting chance.

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Part 2

(11/10/2023)

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katsu28 · 25 days

Text

welcome to miami

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: lando wins miami, and you're there to see it happen (2.1k)

a/n: had to crank this one out for lando's first win 🧡 i'm still buzzing with excitement and pride omg

You’d decided to fly out to Miami on a whim, really.

The last race you’d gone to had been a whole ordeal for you. The airline had nearly lost your luggage, Lando’s request for your paddock pass hadn’t gone through in time so you had to sit outside for hours until things got sorted out, just a few of the many things that definitely weren’t great.

But all things aside, Lando had done great in the race and you were there to witness him in his element—something you’d always love to see.

With all the chaos that seemed to come with the Miami Grand Prix, Lando assured you he’d understand if you wanted to sit this one out. You really were planning to stay behind, honest to god. But when you’d wished him luck and kissed him goodbye before he left for Miami, something in you shifted.

Something was telling you to go, to be there for him in the flesh, even though it could get crazy and it was definitely a little bit out of your comfort zone. But your love for your boyfriend spanned far and beyond, so you did it.

The unfortunate thing about the last minute planning was that your flight landed at the same time the race began. Between the mad scramble to make your redeye and confirm things like your pass and credentials when you got to the track, you’d forgotten to actually tell Lando you were coming.

By the time you’d touched down in Miami, it was far too late. You’d have to settle for surprising him afterwards.

You arrived at the paddock a little over halfway through the race, collapsing into an armchair at McLaren hospitality with the biggest sigh known to man. Your neck ached, your feet were killing you, you were starving and it was too damn hot here in Miami.

Maybe you could go grab some food in a second, but right now you were so exhausted you wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d fallen asleep right there and then.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice drew you out of your stupor a while later, and you looked up to see Oscar’s girlfriend Lily staring back, a mix of confused and glad to see you. “Oh my god, you’re here! Lando said you weren't coming, he’s going to be so happy to see you!”

“Yeah, it was a last minute thing, honestly. Lando doesn't even know I’m here.”

“You must be on the edge of your seat right now.”

“Sorry?”

Lily nodded over your shoulder. “He’s winning. Lando’s leading the race, look.”

Suddenly you were wide awake, previous fatigue gone and forgotten as you spun around to look at one of the big screens showing the race. Lo and behold, there Lando was, holding steady at the front of the pack a good few seconds ahead of Max’s RedBull.

“Holy shit.” You blinked a few times in disbelief, because maybe you were seeing things, but nothing changed. Lando was still P1 with only a handful of laps to go. “Holy shit!”

“He’s gonna do it, Y/N. Lando’s gonna win.” Lily promised, squeezing your hand tightly.

And she was right.

The entire McLaren portion of the paddock erupted into deafening cheers the moment Lando sped past the waving checkered flag, you included. You were cheering so loud you felt your ears start to ring.

People were jumping around with each other left and right, folks you didn’t know hugging you and congratulating you on Lando’s win. It was odd, because you weren’t the one who’d won, it was your boyfriend, but you accepted the praise nonetheless.

He’d done it. For the first time in his career, Lando had won. All the hard work, all the long days and sleepless nights, all the time and energy and training the entire team had put in to make a dream a reality had finally paid off.

It felt like a sort of out-of-body experience for you, watching Lando throw himself across the barrier into his team, seeing him up on the top step of the podium with his first P1 trophy. Part of it didn’t feel real, but it was.

You could hardly sit still while you waited for Lando and the rest of the team to return to the paddock. Of course he had to do a couple post-race interviews, the podium press conference, all that stuff, but you could stick it out. All would be worth it to see the look on his face when he saw that you were here instead of back home.

It was only fitting that you heard them all coming before you saw them. Cheering, chanting, you even heard some singing going on, and then there he was. He was nothing but smiles all around as you watched him break away from the others and pull out his phone.

It took everything you had in you not to yell out his name. Instead, you video called him with shaky hands, waiting eagerly for him to pick up. He answered immediately, his gleefully smiling face filling your screen.

“Hi, I won!” He exclaimed, beaming so big and bright his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I won Miami!”

“I know! I’m so proud of you, Lan!”

“I really wish you were here to see it, but it’s alright. Everything is so crazy here, I—” He stopped in his tracks as soon as he glanced back down at his screen, bringing the phone so close to his face you could only see one of his eyes and the fading cut across his nose.

“What’re you doing, bub?” You laughed, feigning cluelessness.

“Where are you? It’s…” His nose scrunched adorably as he tried to calculate the time difference in his head. “Eleven at night back home, why is it bright out on your end?”

“Maybe I’m not at home.” You shrugged, angling your own phone towards the McLaren logo behind you casually. “Maybe I’m…”

“No. What the fuck? Are you—” He cut himself off a second time, squinting at his phone. It was funny, watching his head whip up both on your screen and from where you were standing, even funnier when he clocked you instantly and all but threw his phone off to the side as he broke out in a full on sprint towards you. “Holy fuck, you’re here! How—what—” Lando was so shocked he couldn’t even finish his sentence, but he didn’t need to.

You let him all but tackle you around the waist, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as he spun you around a few times. He was hot and sticky with champagne and smelled like sweat and gasoline, but you didn’t care. You were so beyond proud of him you couldn’t even put it into words. Not bursting into tears of pride was all you could do.

It turned out you couldn’t even do that, because as soon as your feet touched the ground again and he pulled back to look at you with stars in his eyes, the tears started to gather in yours.

“Oh my god, are you crying?” He laughed, big hands coming up to cup your face tenderly. His thumb swiped over your cheek, catching a lone tear that had managed to escape. “Don’t cry, woman, or else I’ll start crying again.”

“Of course I’m crying, you dick!” You exclaimed, sniffling a few times in hopes of keeping the waterworks at bay. “I’m happy, I’m proud, I’m really fucking jet lagged right now, I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“So this is why you weren’t answering my texts!” He exclaimed, holding you at arms length. Even that only lasted a fleeting moment before he was bringing you right back in for another bone-crushing hug. “I knew you weren’t ignoring me! Oscar was being a dickhead, he said I was being clingy.”

“I’m sorry, I was twenty thousand feet in the air at the time.” You gave a watery chuckle, tightening your arms around his neck. “I’m so, so fucking proud of you, baby. Never had a doubt in my mind that you’d be a Grand Prix winner one day. Kinda wish that day was one where I could’ve put on a cuter outfit, ‘cause I can already picture all the god awful photos of this moment right now, but whatever.”

“Thank you. Thank you for standing by me, thank you for loving me—thank you for everything. I love you. I love you so much.” Lando said, lips pressed to the crown of your head. “I’m beyond fucking lucky to have you, darling. And you always look cute, what’re you even talking about?”

“You may be a winner now but you’re still a god awful liar, Lando Norris.”

“Shut up and c’mere,” He murmured, tugging you flush against him with a hand splayed across your back. Before you could say a word, he tilted your chin up with his thumb and pointer finger and he kissed you, finally.

It wasn’t a graceful kiss by any means, but it didn’t matter. He tasted sweet like champagne and victory as he kissed you with his whole soul, nearly knocking you backwards had he not been keeping you firmly in place.

He pulled away far too early, but pressed one more, much shorter kiss to your lips before he gave you a not-so-subtle once over. Concern bloomed across his face, and instantly you readied yourself for the barrage of questions coming your way in three, two, one.

“How was your flight? Are you tired? I still can’t believe you forgot to tell me you were coming. Do you want to head to the hotel? I think I've got some more media stuff to do, but I can send for a car to take you back now and I’ll meet you later?”

“I’m fine, you muppet! Stop fussing over me.” You griped playfully, nudging him with your elbow. “Do what you have to do, I’ll wait here for you.”

Lando tutted, pressing close to murmur into your ear, breath hot. “What I want to do and what I have to do are two very different things. One involves you, and I can’t do it with all these people around, but—”

“Lando.”

“What?” He pouted. You reached up to tug at his earlobe, to which he huffed out a sigh. “Fine. We’ll discuss it later then. I was actually supposed to fly home tonight to get back to you, if you wanted to know.”

“Really?” Warmth bloomed in your chest at his words. He could’ve done anything he wanted the night following the race, but he’d booked a flight to go home to you.

“Of course. No matter what the outcome could’ve been, I wanted to see you.” He replied, smiling warmly at you. You turned your head towards him, puckering your lips for a kiss that he happily planted on you. “But since you’re here and not thousands of miles away…how ‘bout we celebrate? Dinner out, maybe go clubbing? Miami’s got a killer party scene, I’ve heard. Unless you’re tired from your flight, we could always just stay in.”

“My winner wants to go clubbing, then we go clubbing.” You said firmly. Good thing you’d thrown that dress Lando loved on you into your bag, just in case. (Though you suspected he wouldn't have minded buying you a brand new one if you asked.)

“Your winner, huh?” Lando beamed. “I like the sound of that.”

“Formula 1 winner Lando Norris takes on Miami! To the clubs we go!”

-------

“We shouldn't have gone clubbing.”

You glanced up from where your face had been buried in Lando’s shoulder since the plane had taken off, squinting at your boyfriend through bleary eyes. Even the dim light of the cabin was almost too much for the throbbing in your head, making you wince. “Huh?”

“Last night. We should’ve just ordered takeaway. Watched a movie or something.”

“You wanted to go out though?”

He let out a pained groan, shifting in his seat gingerly. “Yeah, and look where that got me.”

“What’re you even—oh.” You blinked a few times, and when your vision cleared, you saw it. A ugly looking bruise right above his eyebrow, darkening the surrounding skin. “Did you get that last night?” Lando nodded, prodding at the area gently before you had the sense to swat his hand away. “Stop touching it. I don’t even remember how you did that. I don’t really remember a lot of last night, really.”

“Me neither.” He snuggled deeper into you, letting his cheek fall against the top of your head comfortably. “Next time I suggest something, tell me I’m being stupid.”

“I love you even when you suggest stupid things.”

Lando scowled, but not for long until it morphed into a wince. “I’m too hungover to even argue with that right now. I love you too.”

“Lando Norris, Grand Prix winner, parties so hard he doesn’t know how he injured himself. Nice.”

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?”

You dotted a kiss to his cheek, smiling bright as you could manage. “No. Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

“...No.”

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #lando norris x you #ln4 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris one shot #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff

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thatdeadaquarius · 6 months

Note

About your language brainrot. I see your "Reader's writing can't match tyvat's long and flowery writing" and bring you "Tyvat isn't used to books over 50 pages long so a short story to the Reader is a whole dictionary to tyvat readers".

Seriously, have you seen how thin the books are? They don't wrote novels, they write short chapters formatted in the way really old stories are. As in, summarizing all the events down into one smooth story then adding a few quotes. Fanfiction writers are insane. They will willingly sit down and write hundreds of words at a time. To them, a proper modern day story of maybe, oh 10k words or so, would probably be like the Oddessy itself.

If we were to combine the two headcanons. It would end up as many historians being intimidated by this insanely long written scripture in the language of the forgotten.

I'm going to take this a step further and say that if the creator asked some people to proofread their things, it would establish a hiarchy of who is able to actually finish the book the creator read and who isn't.

NOW THIS, THIS IS MY FUCKING JAMMMM

I'm so sorry this is so old!! u probably all know this by this point that I've really slowed down as the year has gone on, but I graduated university and then got my first job so its been pretty crazy!

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: dash of all the book/nerds of Genshin, heavy on Sumeru?

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing, 16+ Mature Audiences, Spoliers for Sumeru Archon Quests/Scaramouche, & Trigger Warnings: mention of shipping/characters shipping themselves with you.

Comment if any missed, please.

☆

FULL STOP.

THE AKADEMIYA, FONTAINE RESEARCH INSTITUTE, HAVE BEEN WAITTTINNGGGG ON YOUR ASS LMAO

You fall from the fucking sky like a 5 star, or pop out of the Irminsul or whatever

and immediately are mobbed by scholars. LMAO jkjk (not really, bc that's what it’d feel like)

can you even imagine the dread older stories(”the classics” to them), that was instilled in the poor students around Teyvat??

id like to think ur works are the most preserved over the thousands of years of Teyvat archeologists excavating them, in comparison to other authors (teyvat just likes you more, suck it William Shakespeare)

also, bc I cant resist language differences/world building I'm sorryyyy 😭 😭

the vocab of Genshin lang vs. ours, has significantly less vocabulary like their actual dictionary is 1/3 the size of ours type of energy

(Omfg all ur fanfics being considered like insanely long realistic romantic classics or tragedies like Jane Austen-level, and only the richest and biggest play companies put on plays about ur stories bc the script goes on for hours)

(ur plays only get put on for rlly big events bc of this, like Lantern Rite or like a Summer/Winter festival/your birthday, which is, yes, an international holiday)

dude the sheer power move of anything you’ve written being essentially “Journey of the West” to them, like Damnnn.

endless like adaptations, plays, Teyvat-short stories condensing it, (THEIR OWN FANFICTION ABOUT UR STORIES)

the power is, in fact, going to your head every time another scholar both deflates at how long ur stuff is, but also lights up bc they get to read it

speaking of scholars… you know who snatched you up first. you know. you don’t even need to read the next line.

Alhaitham.

sneaky bastard he is, absolutely manipulated, mansplained (and manwhored bc he knows he’s handsome, cheeky little shit) his way into getting you to sit down with him and interview you about both translating other classics, your own, giving your own analysis of others works and ur own, and picking ur brain apart of how/why you wrote urs, etc. its fucking endless,

Kaveh had to come rescue you bc u were starving to death after getting stuck with the Haravatat scholar in his office for nearly 7 hours of interrogation discussion about literature

and Alhaitham wasn't even nearly done, he’d informed you as you left that he already had another appointment for later conversation scheduled (how?? you don't even know ur own schedule??? you have a schedule???) and was looking forward to more of your “creative and enlightening input” :)))

(you’re never going to escape him, not even Nahida herself can save you from his stubborn ass)

On another note, Xingqiu is quaking when you agree to autograph his copy of your stories (of which he has all hard covers of the first edition translations)

Zhongli/Rex Lapis is known for having a near-lifelong passion for searching for your works specifically, and learning how to translate them better into Teyvatian vernacular

like the same way he can absolutely speak on Rex Lapis facts/rocks/adepti info, is the same confidence he speaks about knowing ur work lol

(yes he did also ask for several autographs and another sit-down talk about the works, tho a lot more sneaky then Alhaitham bc he just casually gets u guys into it during dinner)

Barbatos/Venti has written some of the most famous songs based on your stuff, he has his favorites too,

but he always claims the best songs are any that have been written in the story, like either when a character sings something, or there are like quotes from songs ur fanfics are based on lol

(he also demanded to hear what they actually sound like from you, yes, you have to sing them for him lol)

Venti also can surprisingly drunkenly ramble the entirety of at least one of ur stories, like, word for word lmao

(Diluc gave in and did give him a drink on the house for that one, just once, Venti doesn’t remember it lol)

(I forgot to mention, u guys still speak the same language, just like, different versions of it)

ur works being one of the few things all the Archons can freely talk about with each other, like it’s neutral ground bc they’re all fangirling about it lmao

Furina and Neuvillette have had like,, fierce debates over the decades about character dynamics and the general drama of ur stories, they’ve gotten into it enough they’ve stopped talking to each other for a couple days a few times lol

Albedo, Sucrose, Kokomi, Yae Miko, Ei, Raiden, have read every single work they’re gotten their hands on in Teyvat (it took them like a literal year or longer)

Albedo drew you fanart for every single story, bc he’s hyperfixated on everything related to you ngl,

Kokomi had commissioned smaller pocket versions of ur works (which later got popular thanks to Yae Miko) both the OG and the Teyvat shortened versions

THE HARBINGERS ARE THE MOST DOWN BAD LMAO

Childe has literally tried to recreate battle scenes from ur works lmao

and gets especially riled up about fighting someone who resembles any characters from them (esp villains, what a cutie)

You cannot fathom the amount of research throughout Teyvat that has been secretly or indirectly funded by Pantalone/Tsaritsa

from the experts to analyze them, to funding play companies to act them out, to actually excavating places to get more of ur stuff unearthed

(the Harbingers absolutely are the first group of people that got to read several of ur stories first bc of this, like the world’s most exclusive secret book club lol)

Scaramouche used to clown on Childe all the time about how he was too impatient to even “sit down and read the King’s classics”, and he was downright insufferable when he found out about Tartaglia’s habit of recreating battle scenes/that being what motivated him to fight sometimes lol

that being said, Wanderer surprisingly never forgot ur stories.

Even when his memories were wiped for a bit, he found comfort in these fantastical epics still sticking around, even when his old names did not

(he mayyyy or mayyy nottt have secretly namedhimselfafteroneofthetragicprotagonistsherelatesto- )

oh btw, Nahida also found joy and comfort in ur stories when she was trapped, they also helped her literally grow as a person bc she had ur stories to help her sort of process the world/what life was like outside of her dreaming prison 🥺💔❤️‍🩹

◇

OMFG

ANYWAY FULL TONE SHIFT LMFAO-

the ABSOLUTE SPIRAL-RED-STRING-CONSPIRACY-THEORY-BOARD ENERGY IF THIS WAS A BLUNT LANGUAGE AU LMAOOOO

like specifically how Teyvatians like to give all the context ever thru their words, but older deities/beings like you just do simple phrases that can have deeper meanings (whereas teyvat just explains all the meanings behind their words)

STOP there’s like an official display at the Akademiya and Fontaine Institute of red string theory boards 😭😭 (look what you’ve done to themmm LMAO)

for like every story of urs, INCLUDING THE FANFICS STOP

IMAGINE THE SHIPPING WARS IF U EVER WROTE ONE THAT WASNT EXPLICIT OR LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTERESTS HAD CHEMISTRY WITH OTHER CHARACTERS HAHAHAHAA

that's actually what Akademiya scholars argue about the most viciously, it’s like politics you can’t just bring up ships from ur stories casually in regular convos 💀

(poor Cyno has to deal with a shipping war once a year bc someone always makes the mistake of reading ur work for the first time (without being told to not talk to others abt ships lol) and it starts an all out brawl in the cafeteria every time LMAO)

Also yes.

Cyno is a fanboy.

(he has read Creator x Reader-insert fanfiction.)

(As have most of the characters mentioned, and those not lol)

…

(I'm gonna make a whole Creator x reader fanfic post one day i stg lmao)

☆

an iced coffee? for me?? :0

ok but real talk…

wtf do you guys wanna see for new years!!

i didn't do a inktober/october days thingy bc i felt too unprepared (and bc id wanted to post that 1000+ followers eldritch au for Halloween)

but now i kinda wanna, at least for a few days :o

ill post a poll in a minute, so check it out!! but still, please feel free to comment some ideas here! :)

Safe Travels Deafening Dreamer,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily

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americaswritings · 6 months

Text

Voices of Roses and Ruin

Warnings: Psychological torture, manipulation, Coriolanus being himself

Summary: Coriolanus is forced to watch the gamemaker use his voice against you in the arena.

Words: around 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I watched TBOSAS yesterday and yeah don't judge me but young Snow is hot and I shipped him and Lucy Gray a lot (until it all went downhill cough cough). Obviously he's horrible and does many unspeakable things later (!!!). But I think the idea of a love story between a mentor and their tribute has so much potential and when I saw the birds in the film I thought of this idea.

This is written from Coriolanus perspective (I haven't read the book yet. I just bought it and I'm so excited to read it!). I obviously wanted this to be about real feelings, but I tried to stay true to his character so there are some 'questionable' and alarming thoughts and motifs in here.

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part II | Masterlist

Coriolanus had thought watching you in the arena, alone and scared, hiding from a pack of murders that were hunting for your life was among the worst things he had ever gone through, but nothing could have prepared him for the Gamemaker’s new horrendous plan.

He was tired, just as you were, but refused to go home like most students had done. Instead his head was resting in his hand as he kept watching your sleeping form, as if he could protect you if he just kept his eyes on the screen and on the lookout for a potential threat.

He wouldn’t be able to do anything for you, if the pack of murders found you. He couldn’t warn you or give you advice.

All he could do was sit here and watch and he found himself thinking if this was not the worst torture of them all; being trapped here while you were out there and all he could do was watch.

You were trembling in your sleep, if from the cold or fear he didn’t know, but he kept his expression carefully guarded as he felt his own heart breaking bits by bits.

Even there covered in dirt, with your hair a wild mess and your clothes strained with mud you looked breathtaking to him.

You were pretty, there was no denying that. Everyone else saw it too. He saw it in the way heads turned for you, men‘s eyes raking over your body like you were theirs to take.

He hated it, every part of it.

They all deserved to die.

But it wasn’t your looks that had drawn his attention to you. What had fascinated him. He liked to think he wasn‘t shallow like most people and blinded by pretty things.

No, what has drawn him to you was the way you carried yourself. The confidence you wore like an amour. Yet you were breakable at the same time.

You seemed to be made up of duality; strong but so weak, fierce but uncertain, opinionated but withdrawn, stubborn but helpless.

You were a dangerous little thing and a petite fragile flower at once. Drawing all eyes on you but forgotten due to your ordinariness by most after a moment.

Not by him though. To him you could never be ordinary.

It was frustrating and captivating and alluring.

Naturally, his constant worry for you since you had entered the arena stemmed from his will to get the scholarship. It was what he deserved and he would claim it.

Tht was why he was so engaged in saving you, not because of the deep unease he felt when he saw you in that arena, your eyes drifting around frantically until they passed a camera and he could have sworn they had locked on his for a moment.

It had nothing to do with the way his whole body seemed to light up when you smiled or the invisible pull he felt towards you when you were in the same room as him.

He definitely didn’t want to kiss you and he didn’t dream about you since the reaping, when his eyes had fallen on you for the first time and he had only thought one thing: You’re mine now.

Mine to claim, to showcase, to protect.

He had gone into the mentorship thinking he would use you to serve him and his purpose of getting what he deserved, but as he watched you now, still rooted in his chair although a deep exhaustion weighted down his body, he knew he was serving you.

Being here with you every second of the way. Vowing to protect you. Whatever it took.

You awoke from your restless sleep right before the screaming started. In an instant you were up, your eyes widened in panic as you gazed around, trying to locate the source. With the rest of the students that had stayed Coriolanus flinched in his seat, leaning forward to try and help you figure this out.

As quickly as it had started the screaming stopped and for a moment you were one, both breathing and blinking heavily as your mind tried to make sense of what happened.

And then he heard a voice. His voice. “Follow me.”

He forgot to breathe for a moment as he stared at what was happening in pure shock. You seemed just as confused, turning around in circles as you tried to find him there.

„Coriolanus?”, you whispered and took a step forward, towards the voice. “Follow me”, it whispered again and he watched you do.

No, no, no.

Around him he heard chuckles from the other students, but he drowned them out. All he could focus on was you, following his voice through the darkness. “Where are you?”, you hissed, your eyes darting around. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you.”

He sank lower in his seat, wishing himself somewhere else. It wasn’t him saying the words, obviously, but it was his voice and everyone could hear it, see you follow it.

He hoped people would laugh about you. About your nativity and the brilliant idea of the gamemaker to use your mentors voice against you. Hell, he didn’t even care, if they thought you might have a silly little crush on him and the gamemaker used it against you.

Because if people knew the whole truth, he couldn’t imagine the catastrophe that would follow.

The truth that there was something between the two of you, the mentor and the tribute. That it was something he couldn’t explain, but had let him do dangerous things. Break rules. Forget himself.

The truth that this might not be him speaking those words now, but that he had spoken them to you once. Had they been listening all this time?

His stomach twist in terror as he tried to remember all you had shared with each other, all he had said to you. Promised you.

It would ruin him.

“I can’t see you”, you whispered now, being led further into darkness.

Damn it, think! He wanted to yell at you. It’s not me. I’m not there.

There was no reason for him to be there.

Except…there was.

“I’m here to see you. I won’t let anything happen to you!”

“How cute”, one girl hissed in his ear, but he remained stoic. “She’s as dumb as they come”, another said and he wanted to punch her. Enjoy the feeling of triumph when she looked at him in horror and didn’t dare open her mouth again.

“Looks like you’re guiding her straight to her own death. How ironic.”

And it was ironic.

Maybe in his attempt to protect you, save you, all he had done was ruined your one chance.

All he had said to you to make you trust him and then because he hadn’t been able to stop himself were used against you now and all he could do was watch. Keeping his face carefully blank he shut out their voices. They didn’t matter.

Finally he saw you hesitate. Maybe you had remembered his exact words or maybe you realized that you weren’t getting anywhere. That if it truly was him he would have just stepped out of the shadows and shown his face. “Is this real?”

Oh how funny it was to the people around him. He hated them all. Every single one.

Your words hit a mark. They pierced right through his heart, because he had said them to you. Whispered them. Before your farewell, when he had visited you one last time.

Your faces had only been separated by a few inches and he had fought the urge to kiss you right there and then. But he couldn’t.

Because of everything, but also because it felt too much like goodbye. It was stupid, but if he didn’t give into the temptation then, a part of him hoped it meant you would come back to him.

That your chapter wasn’t over, your story just starting. He would kiss you when you won. When there was a chance for a future with you.

Still those words had escaped his mouth, like he needed the reassurance that you felt the same way. That this meant something, so much that it was worth the risk.

Coriolanus leaned forward in his seat, hope blossoming in his chest. He didn’t know why whatever game they were playing with you hadn’t affected the other tributes yet, but he was sure their time would come.

And right now it seemed you wouldn’t fall for their tricks. Because there could come no answer to your question, as he had been the one asking it.

But he had underestimated the gamemakers.

Instead of a reply there came a scream and then a groan. “Coriolanus?” “Help me!”, he heard himself yelp. What?! He had never sounded like that.

But then flashes came back to him. The bombs. How the arena had collapsed, almost burying him alive. He would have died there, if it hadn’t been for you.

You had saved him.

But how in the hell did they get his voice now?!

“Coriolanus!”

Gone was the glimpse of hesitance and suspicion and you began sprinting into the direction the voice was coming from.

No!

He watched with dread as you ran directly towards the sound. It’s not real, he whispered, knowing you couldn’t hear him but desperately hoping somehow his words would reach you.

When you stumbled upon a clearing you jerked to a stop, twisting and turning, your gaze furiously searching for something.

“Coriolanus! Tell me where you are!” But he could only hear his own painful screams, in between pleading for your help. Sounds he was certain he had never made.

What was this?

With a stab of pain he saw your face was tearstained. You were crying. For him. For someone from the capitol.

Was this what the gamemaker wanted?

Whatever you did or said would never matter again.

All everyone would see when they looked at you now was the broken girl in a dark forest, all alone and desperate and crying for a man she never stood a chance with.

A man who knew hunger just as you did, who in a way fought for survival every day too. But they would never see that, because unlike you he wouldn’t let them. Where you had no choice, he still had one. And he was watching that one chance crumble in front of him.

Flashes of a better life filled his mind.

A house. Plates of food. Tigris smiling. His uniform, a real one made from the finest materials hanging draped neatly over a chair. Laughter echoing through the corridors and then a flash of your face as you stepped into the room, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you leaned over the desk to peek a look at what he was working on.

It was the life they deserved, he deserved, if he got the scholarship. But you were there too. Alive and well, just as breathtaking. And you were his.

There had never been the choice between the scholarship and you, because they were one. Your life was connected to it and so his was to yours.

But now he could loose both and he felt the agony of that thought travel through his whole body.

The screaming seemed to be everywhere and he watched helplessly as you bent forward, covering your ears. All he wanted was to get the screaming to stop, wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was okay.

Instead he forced a neutral expression on his face, as if seeing you break didn’t break him the same way and pray for this hell to end.

Part II

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itadodori · 3 months

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professor!gojo who could sense your jealousy every time he had a conversation with his coworker, utahime. the type of man gojo was, he’d do it on purpose. just to see if he could get a rise out of you. sadly.. his plans always worked. every single time you saw the two of them talking the only thing you wanted to do was smack both of them, but you couldn’t.

your relationship with him had to remain a secret or you’d be kicked out of uni, and he’d loose his job. that’s the reason gojo loved ticking you off so much.. he knew there was nothing you could do about it.

well.. he may have forgotten the fact that you were one petty woman. you were sick of gojo’s little mind games so you thought why not play along? maybe this would get him to stop toying around with you.

all it took was for you to say one word to professor toji, who was at the top of gojo’s most hated list. when he saw you in toji’s class after hours giggling and wearing that short ass skirt of yours.. he lost it.

toji fushiguro? did you really have to go that low?

“quit the cryin’ already. you did this to yourself.” gojo had you bent over his lap— ass in the air as he delivered a stinging slap.

he’s been at this for hours. you lost count of how many times he spanked your ass, but from the excruciating pain on both your cheeks.. you’d say about over 20 times.

“’m sorry baby.. but you made me mad!” you croaked, hands quickly flying to his as he tried to deliver another smack.

but of course.. he was gojo. so you couldn’t hold him off for too long.

“grab my hand again and im gonna start spanking that pretty little pussy instead..” he found himself slipping his fingers through your folds— toying with your throbbing clit. “would you like that, baby? hmm?”

he wasted no time slipping his fingers into you, yanking your hair in the process, forcing you to look at him.

“who’s pussy is this? better answer me before i get upset pretty girl.”

“y..yours- aw fuck! it’s all yours daddy!” you didn’t notice it at first, but from the position he forced you in, you had a clear view of his neck.

the black ink was too hard to miss. your name, in big bold letters was tattooed on the side of his neck. anyone that walked passed him would see it if they looked close enough. he’d have to hide it during work.

“oh.. you like my new tattoo mama?” gojo chuckled lowly— sliding his fingers out of you just to slam them back in a second later. “i got it just for you.. so everyone can know who i belong to.”

those words alone made your pussy flutter, and you couldn’t stop yourself from getting tighter around his thick fingers.

“g..gojo please.”

he completely ignored your cries as he watched your pussy suck his fingers in, mesmerized by the sight. right now any sense of logic he once had was gone, and the only thing he was focused on was drilling it into your dumb little head that you were his.

“but don’t worry baby.. daddy’s got some other ways to prove his loyalty to you.” you had no clue what he could be hinting towards— nor did you care. right now your body was too overstimulated to think straight.

“maybe i should put some babies in this cute lil tummy.. let everyone know you’re my wife?”

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 jays creation’s #jjk smut #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen x reader #anime #anime smut #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

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mayullla · 3 months

Text

Title: He took away his own kind.

Character(s): Kitune (Original Character) Summary: You were a weak yokai, one who was loved by your own followers and you loved them back. Unknown to you tho, a powerful yokai had taken an interest in you and want you to be his. Warnings/tags: Yandere Kitsune x Kitsune!reader, yandere themes, drugging, non-con relationship, manipulation, 5k word count

You had always been a little kinder compared to the other kitsunes, a little more gentle with your followers and the people who believed in you. You were more docile compared to the more mischievous ones. You were a small yokai, recently born compared to those who lived hundreds of years. You had fewer followers than them, with no more than 100, most of them older. Maybe that was why you were more cautious, watching over them rather than teasing them.

You acted almost like a caretaker to them. You were a kitsune with one tail, still young in the eyes of other yokai, yet with just enough power to give a little relief in the lives of those who believed in you. But you didn't lose that mischievous part of yourself. While limited, you often teased the little boy, the son of a widow. You would appear in front of him, playing with him, only to disappear when the mother showed up.

You were the boy's friend, playing with him when he seemed lonely, showing him small things that you could do with magic. The brightening of his face always made you smile. You took care of the people who lived in a small village, and more often than not, they would leave you sweets or food that they made on the windowsill, which you often snacked on.

While yokai could appear in front of humans, they mainly changed their appearances when doing so, which was the same for you, as you hid your tail and ears while chatting with the elderly. You were known to be somewhat mysterious, yet many were still welcoming towards you.

Your personality was different for a kitsune. While you did have some personality traits, it would have still been obvious to any yokai that you were different. It was that personality that made you leave the village just for moments to follow and protect your followers. The child that you grew to care for so much was leaving as his mother wanted to make money in the city.

It was not the first time you had gone to the city, having followed many of your followers before out of curiosity, now mainly out of worry over them as they aged with white hair while you stayed the same.

The two of them planned on going to the city nearest to the village, a place you often visited compared to other places. You followed them, thinking that you would only stay for a moment to see if they reached to the destination safely and found a place to sleep. After a week of travel, they and you stepped into the gates of the city.

Unknown to you, shared eyes watched you from afar, already having noticed your little visit to the city where those served him.

He was the same as you, a kitsune but born longer than you and worshiped by the whole city. Living in the tallest building of the city, canine eyes watched you from far away as he licked his lips. His nine tails swayed softly as if excited and somewhat expectant, seeing you finally come back after what he thought was so long.

It was only by chance that you two had met a few years ago. He was sure that you had already forgotten, but for him, it was just so difficult to forget such a cute lady. Back when he had changed himself into a civilian, he remembered bumping into a lady at a corner of a small shop. You were in disguise too back then, yet for someone as powerful as him, it was easy to identify that you were not human but a yokai kitsune like him. A quick apology and both of you were on your way. He thought he would forget the young kitsune.

Till he saw you again, this time without a disguise yet hidden in the eyes of the humans, watching some travelers, an old couple that wanted to sell their harvest. Your eyes were watching them, both fox ears trained towards them while your tail lightly swayed side to side. On top of the roof of a building you sat, yet you were elegant and sophisticated yet unexpectedly innocent. You were not like what he had expected, though this was his first time actually seeing you, he had his expectations over his own kind after living for hundreds of years.

A lot of kitsunes lacked care over humans, having more selfish desires and thoughts. They thrived off entertainment like mischievous pranks or lust. They were mainly self-centered and greedy, thinking only for themselves. He was the same when he was younger, but as he continued to live, a lot of those interests started to dwindle as he had gotten bored of doing the same thing over and over again.

Instead of focusing on his greed, he created a city of his own that worships the ground he steps on. He had everything in his hands, yet even that quickly grew boring.

He was bored out of his mind, wondering what other entertainment he should search for as he continued to stay in the land. He watched you silently follow the couple, hopping on the roofs of the buildings and making soft taps on the bricks roofs with your wooden slippers.

He didn't follow you and didn't see you again for a few months. He had already forgotten about you as he stared down into the buildings from high up in his tower. He was still bored even after some entertainment with other yokai, wondering what to do, when he saw you again entering the gates. Invisible to the naked eyes of humans, you followed another person who came to the village to trade. The Kitsune had figured out that you had come here following those who believed in you, as many yokai disappear when no humans believe they are real.

Yet he still couldn't make sense of your decisions. Many choose to make more followers and believers, leaving those who already believe, if not with a little scare if they felt generous. Yet you would go out of your way to watch the people who followed you. Truthfully, he would find it dreadful to even think about following a human. They live such slow, boring lives, and it would be painful for him, who craves entertainment, to watch over a person like that.

Yet his eyes would not leave you, picking up a grape from the bowl and tossing it into his mouth. There were many yokais that came here, a place packed with people. While they could stay as long as they didn't cause any huge problems, he personally didn't care much for what they did. The more he watched, the more he realized that he could not help but stare at your eyes. He had met quite a few kitsunes in the past, and many younger kitsunes most of the time didn't really know what they were doing, often showing in their eyes that they were without a goal, while others were mainly obsessed with material things or fame.

Your eyes were different. If he had to pick a word, it would be cute. Your eyes held so much affection towards your followers, caring and concern for their well-being. It was both amusing and entertaining to him that he could not help but watch.

Over the years, he would look forward to your visits. Your cautious eyes, when you finally noticed someone watching, made him excited as he watched you look left and right, wondering. He found your affection wanting, the attention you give towards those you like. He wanted your attention, wanting no more than to tease you some days, wondering how you would react if someone were to take away the people you give all your care to.

Yet his tails could not help but stop for a moment as he watched you. Your ears down nearer to your head while your tail was down, almost as if saddened. There was a smile on your face, still with affectionate eyes, yet they were mixed in with sadness. He could just stare at you, for the first time he had ever seen your face express another emotion other than what was normally seen. Your lovely face as you waved goodbye at the little boy who just for a moment looked back and saw you. The smile that spread on his face as he raised his hand to wave at you.

"Bye bye!!"

His mother had asked him who he was waving at, but the boy didn't answer, instead grinning at her.

As you watched them go, unable to follow them for fear you would not be able to leave if you did so, you stayed still for a moment. When you could not see them in the crowds of people, you took a step back and walked the opposite road, completely unaware of how lustful someone was looking at you.

He adored you. He adored you so much. His precious little tempting fox. Your little saddened face was just so delicious in his eyes, far more compared to your startled expression when you watched one of your older friends suddenly trip on a rock. It drove him insane how cute you were.

He had to have you. He would drag you back to his home and keep you with him like a little wife pet. Your innocence compared to his hundreds of years of knowledge would make it so easy to keep you in his arms, even if you tried to escape. Your crying face would be a delight to see. He wanted to see it. Nothing could get him more aroused than your own tears. He watched you leave, moving when he could not see you anymore, his heart beating like crazy as he continued to think about your lovely innocent expressions, all belonging to him. Touching his face with his cold hand, his long nails lightly digging into his cheeks, he felt how warm they were.

It was soon that you reached your village. The villagers greeted you with smiles on their faces as you tried to greet them back. But it seemed that your sadness may have showed when a grandmother patted you on the back. "There, there, child. You shouldn't be so sad." The grandmother explained that people come and go in the village due to its small inhabitance. "The little boy will remember you and come back one day. But for now, focus on the present. I heard from a friend that you don't have a lover yet! You are a very beautiful soul; you should be searching for one now! Otherwise, it will be too late to have a child of your own!"

“Have a little boy just like that kid, you could adore.”

The grandmother gave more words of comfort, even though you were older than her by a few years, and some of her words were a little much. Even if you were older, you could not help but flush at her words, causing her to laugh.

"Hahaha, you remind me so much of my old friend. We were friends at such a young age, yet she had to move away after I got married. Even she was someone easy to fluster like you." The grandmother told you with a wide smile on her face. "Unfortunately, it is quite difficult to keep in touch, so I don't know how she is doing now, but I hope she is doing well."

You couldn't help but smile at the old lady who was reminiscing about the past. "I think she is doing fine for herself," you said with confidence, which made the grandmother look at you in surprise but burst out laughing again. "She probably is. Probably found someone nice and living her life with 10 kids of her own and 20 grandkids." "I- I am not su-" "Nah, she is too pretty for her own good and has always been the type to care for others. I doubt that the man could not help but give a few more." The old woman cackled again at her own joke as she walked away, waving at you and stating that she had some rice cakes that you and her should eat.

It took some time, the lack of that boyish sound left a hole in your heart, but like any other time, you knew you would heal. Watching over the houses, you noticed some carts coming into the village. Fancy transport carriages; you thought there was someone important visiting here. You couldn't help but become curious as you stepped down to the grassy floor, changing to your disguise as you hid your ears and tail, and drew closer to the stopped carriage. Curiously looking at the servants talking with the mayor of the village, for what you could gather, they seemed to wish to stay here just for a few nights.

The mayor was unsure about the whole situation, as not only was this sudden due to how fancy the carriage was, he wasn't sure if the village had the means to serve the guest, but the servant reassured them that they don't need to do anything.

Walking up to one of the villagers, you asked what was going on. "Ehhh, just some rich man wanting to stay here for a while. Probably a break from traveling, but really it is just too sudden," an uncle answered your question, crossing his hands as he looked judgmentally at the cart when it suddenly opened.

From the cart walked out a very handsome man. Tall with a lean figure and a bit of muscle. He had a smile on his mouth as he walked toward the mayor. "Please do not worry about the service. I know we had come without any prior notice," his voice was deep and velvet as he continued to talk, his narrow eyes staring kindly at the mayor. Even with a smile on his face, there was something intimidating about him. You watched quietly, wondering if this was really okay, but without causing any trouble to anyone here, you couldn't do much.

Silently, you watched the mayor and the travelers go, the old man taking them away to a place where they could rest, leaving behind whispers between the people.

While most didn't care much for the arrived guest and his servants, many of the younger ladies were extremely excited when they saw his face. They talked among themselves about how handsome he was, wondered if he was married, and daydreamed about being picked up by such a man. You didn't care much for such topics. Turning on your heel, you left, deeming that there should not be any problem here. Planning on going back, you stopped and turned around, your eyes widening in caution.

You felt someone watching you.

You turned left and right, searching for them, wondering if it was a yokai that was looking at you, yet you could not find one that had a stare that made your back so heavy and raised the fur on your tail so badly. It wasn't the first time either. Many times you felt that stare when you were in the city, yet you never seemed to find the reason why or from whom it was coming. You thought that here you would not have to experience this, that in your safe haven, unlike the city, you would be able to avoid it.

But you could find nothing, and almost everyone except for the chatting girls was all gone, busy with their own days...

A day passed since those people came. You chose not to bother with them after sneaking in last night to check on them, wondering if they were really good people. As you watched them interact with the head in a kind manner, you decided to leave them be.

On your own, you chose to take on your human form as you watched the villagers care for the fields. Taking a seat on top of a branch of a tall tree in the mountain, you watched from afar. After the boy had left, you had become too bored, feeling solemn, mainly as the child who you were close to had to leave.

You knew that it was bound to happen, yet you could not help but miss the boy. The smaller yokais told you to just take the boy, take him away from the world and to the yokai one and keep him for yourself forever. But not once did you entertain that thought; the idea of taking the boy's life away was horrible in your eyes. His mother was also someone you held affection towards, a kind lady who had invited you to her home many times in the past, even when they barely had much to eat.

You wanted the little one to stay, but you also knew that you could not trap him, yet your heart was sad.

"Hello, there." Your tails and ears almost poofed into view at the voice, your body raising up from its relaxed position as you looked at the back. Under the tree on the side was a man alone, looking at you with a smile on his face. "Ah... sorry, I didn't mean to startle you like that." He looked amused due to your reaction. You tilted your head in wonder as you looked at the man, recognizing him from yesterday as he and his entourage had chosen to stay in the village for a few days.

"Did I scare you?" He asked, raising a brow. You narrowed your eyes a little at him but chose to nod. It wasn't like you could even deny it. "Don't you know it is rude to creep up on someone like that?" Your voice a little snappish as you tried to contain your annoyance at the fact that your alone time had been taken away, and that you were also taken off guard.

Haha... Sorry, I will keep that in mind."

You examined him from head to toe, wearing a yukata and cleanly put, you could not help but stare at his face. His smile and his narrow eyes and sharp features made him look almost like a fox.

"What are you doing? Is the view from there nice?" he asked, and for a moment you thought about whether you should actually continue to talk to him. Not having the heart to decline as the man acted more from harmless mischievousness, you didn't push him away. Instead, you invited him up the tree.

He complimented the view of the place from the tree, stating that he mainly lived in the city, so it had been a long time since he last took the time to relax in the countryside. The topics you chatted between the two of you were mainly surface-level topics, nothing deep, yet hinting at reminiscing the past.

You almost felt seen by him. It was something hard to explain, yet because your lifespan was so much different than that of humans, there was a bit of a gap when it comes to understanding. They would never understand what you feel because they would never live that long.

You didn't count the time, yet as you noticed the sun now in a different position in the sky, you realized that you have been here for a few hours. "I must leave now," you told him, for it wasn't long until you have used a lot of your powers and need to change up.

A frown graced the lips of the man looked beautiful under the sunset. "Ah, that is such a shame. I was enjoying talking to you," he stated, and you could not help but feel the same. "How about we meet again here if you are not busy tomorrow?" He offered.

You looked at him, his smile still with its mischievousness, yet a hand reaching out as a kind gesture. You thought that it would be okay. The loneliness you had in your heart was stilled just for a moment after the boy and his mother left that you could not help it when your mouth and head moved, agreeing to meet him again here at the same time tomorrow.

You met him the next day, the same place. He was sitting on the same spot of the huge tree as he looked at you with a smile, offering tea. The rich flavor that coated your tongue was delicious. The man laughed at your face, teasing you when you asked him why he was laughing.

There was no tension in the air. Time flew too quickly when you became comfortable around him, able to open up your feelings when it usually takes a long time when it comes to others. Almost every day, you met him under that same tree.

"I see our young lady finally fell in love?" The grandmother chuckled when you choked on your tea at her words. Grinning like a cat when you looked embarrassed. "Finally, time you found someone who could take care of you."

"Please don't say that... we are mere... acquaintances," you said hesitantly, unable to call that person a friend nor anything more than that. The old lady laughed again, patting your shoulder. You knew that she understood your feelings but also wanted only the best for you.

"So we are acquaintances?" the voice was too low, too muffled to hear, even for your ears to hear as you glanced at him blinking. He laughed on the other side of the branch, stating that it was nothing.

"I am going to be leaving soon." His words made you snap your head at him, in shock, then realizing what you just did, tried to calm yourself. "Oh..." you said hesitantly, looking away from him. "That... that is unfortunate." You were a little saddened, to be honest, that he was leaving, but it was coming after all. The crew was only resting here and needed to leave at one point.

“Yeah..." He passed you a cup of tea that he had brought again to drink here. Taking the tea, you took a sip of it, yet the flavor wasn't as strong or vibrant as before, dulled by your own feelings as you watched the liquid ripple in your hands. "Some business that I need to get to," he told you as you took another sip of your tea, still feeling your throat parched.

"Oh..." You said again, unsure of what to say. He had told you that he was a merchant travelling and just happened to arrive here at some point.

"Hey..." his voice was hesitant, yet for a silent moment he took a deep breath. "Why... why don't you come with me?"

You looked at him, surprised by his words again. You saw how determined his eyes were as he looked at you. "Please... please come with me! I like you a lot, and I promise I will take care of you if you choose to follow me," the man said, leaning towards your branch with a hand on his heart. "I have a difficult time being around people sometimes outside things related to business, yet with you, I always have fun. You are kind and thoughtful, you care so much about the people here. It is heartwarming to listen. If you want me, I promise I will make you happy."

You leaned away, almost intimidated by his actions. "Huh...? What are you talking about?" You didn't understand at all what he was talking about.

"Please marry me," he told you, finally spilling the words after having a difficult time holding it in. "I will make you the happiest woman alive."

Staring at him and his proposal, you thought about the time for the past few days, the bond that you started to form with him. It was often that within a few days of knowing each other, people tend to marry here.

But words clogged your mouth, unable to leave. While you do treasure the time you spent with this man, the village that you lived in for much longer was still your priority because even if he did understand your feelings, the time you spent with people here had much more value to you.

"I-..." You wanted to decline. After all, you were also a kitsune, a different kind of species compared to him, a human. You wanted to say that when the world suddenly blurred. "I-..." You wanted to get the words out, but dizziness stopped you again.

You saw his eyes, the realization that you planned to reject him, you just needed to bring those words out. "That is…" You didn't know what happened, nor what had caused you to lose all your energy all of a sudden. When the world turned upside down, you felt the wind on your face as you fell from the branch.

How did you become like this?

You thought your sudden fall would hurt yet instead of reaching the grassy floor harshly, you were gently lowered into the arms of another. You tried to open your eyes, wondering who caught you, and saw a man with ears like yours holding you. He was far more handsome than the merchant, but had a more cunning look and a more wicked grin compared to the mischievous smile the merchant had.

You didn't know this person. Your eyes widened as you shoved him away, hopping away from his hold and distancing yourself from him. Your disguise cancelled away as you glared at the yokai, who was the same as you. When did he come so close? How did you not see him? Multiple questions went through your brain as you bared your claws at him. Counting his tails, you knew he was far stronger than you. If he was maybe a three-tail, maybe you would have a chance, but he was triple that.

“Who are you?” You demanded, wondering why he was in your territory.

“Got your little claws out, huh? I am hurt, dear, especially when we had so much fun together these past few days.” He raised his hands, showing that he meant no harm, but you didn't believe it at all, trying to stay away even as the thing in your system continued to cause you to be so tired. “I never met you,” you growled at him.

“Oh? How can you be so sure? I was right beside you, sitting on this tree this whole time.” He raised a brow, a mischievous grin on his lips that was too similar to a certain someone. Your eyes widened as you took a step back. How did you not notice? Why did you even let your guard down?

“You… you lied to me!?” you demanded an answer as the man shook his head, sighing as if your anger was nothing more than a child’s tantrums that he needed to care for. “You would not let me get close to you if I did show my real self,” he talked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You didn't understand why he did that. Why would a nine tail kitsune take such an interest in you that he would pull a prank like this? But it seems that he was able to read your mind, crossing his arms, his golden eyes watching you. “I have taken an interest in you, my dear. The many years that I watched you visit my place has always been a delight for me, that when you didn't come, I could not help but be a little upset. But it is okay, I will always forgive you.” He took a step closer to you, watching you as you continued to lose strength. “Yet to only watch for so long has its limits, don't you think? When you are so adorable skipping around my own turf, don't you think it would be difficult for me not to get my hands on you? I just thought that maybe you would prefer something romantic.”

“I am hurt, dear, that you would still deny me like that when I went through all that trouble. But it is okay, I will forgive after we fix your habits a little at my shrine.” You growled at him, refusing to follow him, pushing yourself to even stand at this point. “Now, now, you shouldn't push yourself too much. The tea was drugged a little, something I made just for you if you had chosen to be a little naughty. Nothing dangerous, I assure you. All you have to do is just relax, and I will take you home.”

You tried to make a run for it, but your powers were restricted, and when your leg caught your own, you fell to your back. You could not catch yourself, as your energy continued to be sucked away from you. You thought that you would hit the floor again when a pair of arms caught you again. “Tch, tch, my little kit is so weak and clumsy when she is tired, hmm?”

He laughed, golden fox eyes staring at you. You felt something furry touch your cheek, moving your hair away from your face. “Don't worry, dear. I will help you learn how to use your powers well, and you will now be mine and mine alone.”

You tried to move your body, tried to push him away, but it was as if weights were placed on your body, preventing you from moving even just a little. You tried to stay awake, to make sense of all this, yet nothing seemed to work as sleep slowly took you away.

“Don't worry, my dear little fox. You will be my lovely mate, and I will take care of you from now on, okay?”

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murdrdocs · 1 year

Text

pt 2 to that one hobie blurb (there's slight smut so be warned)

gwen stacy is a better house guest than you expected.

she lacks some social awareness, yeah (like the many times she'd left her dirty dishes littering around the living room instead of bringing them to the kitchen) (or those times where she did bring them to the kitchen, but she opted out of rinsing them off before placing them in the sink), but she's a teenager who's trying her best.

she's polite, she tries to stay out of your way, she puts herself last on the shower rotation which almost makes up for the sizable dent she's put in your products, but she's a kid. a sweet, good natured kid, who brought you an entire six pack of your yogurt after she found out it was yours.

but no matter how nice of a house guest gwen was, you still missed your space, and your yoga pants, and your privacy.

it's the thing you miss the most.

because anytime you think you're alone, anytime you think you finally have hobie to yourself, she's waltzing through the door already starting conversation about something she'd seen in your dimension.

like the time where you were straddling hobie on the couch, gwen's belongings gone so you thought she was too, and things were getting hot. his hands were under your shirt, gripping your tits, your hands were fumbling for the buckle on his many belts, and you were grinding into him, moans barely muffled against his lips.

but then footsteps were coming from the bathroom and the sound of a toothbrush against teeth met your ears, right before gwen's squeal did the same.

or the time where it was late at night, and you and hobie had gone to bed after making it three quarters of the way through some movie gwen brought from her dimension, and hobie had his hands pushed down your pajama pants, fingers starting to push your lips apart, but then three knocks met the door.

"hobie! your scanners going off. think it's something important."

and yeah, hobie's had to leave mid-sex before to deal with something usually kingpin related, but he always came back in due time with an apology on his lips before you were on them. that night, though, he didn't come back until the morning and it seemed like he'd forgotten about your denied orgasm.

so naturally, you're a little upset with your circumstances. moping around, excusing yourself when you three are in a room together, sleeping with your back to hobie. it's a bit childish, and you rethink your approach for a while, but it gets hobie's attention. and it gets you what you want.

alone time with hobie. time that you spend moaning and whining and whimpering as loud as you want.

and the next day when you wake up, happier than usual, a yogurt in your hand and a smile on your face, you're a little sad to see gwen packing her things up. but she smiles at you, and you smile at her, and you have her in a hug, reminding yourself that she's just a kid, as you wish her well and tell her that the door's always open.

(which, you hope she doesn't take too literally)

#reminder to some of u:#shes a kid #who was homeless #just so yk #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #hobiesworld!#hobie brown x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk smut #spider punk x you

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girlgenius1111 · 15 days

Text

behave

ingrid leaves for 2 weeks for national duty. sol and mapi try to stay out of trouble and fill the time. they are successful at one of those two objectives. some medical trauma discussed.

-------

“And I have an extra one of her inhalers, in the medicine cabinet in our bathroom. She hasn’t had an asthma attack in a while but-”

“-But just in case, Solstråle has one in her backpack, and you have one in the medicine cabinet. Ingrid, relax. It’s going to be fine. You’ve left the two of us before.”

“I know, but this time it's for longer, and she’s still not really herself. So many things have happened and I’m so worried,” the Norwegian rambled. It had only been a few weeks since everything had happened, and you were doing better. You were adjusting. Ingrid still didn’t really want you out of her sight, but she was due at the airport to fly back to Norway for the international break. She’d already said goodbye to you back at the house, and now she was very anxiously trying to give Mapi some words of advice before she had to go. It wasn’t the first time she’d left you with Mapi to play for Norway, but it was the first time since your mental health had really declined, since Ingrid became aware of how hard of a time you were having.

“Ingrid, amor, I know. I will take good care of her. Do you trust me?” Mapi said calmly, squeezing one of Ingrid’s hands.

“Of course, María, I’m sorry, of course I trust you. It’s just… keep an eye on her? Please?” Ingrid’s worry bled through her tone, eyes pleading with Mapi to agree to her request.

“I promise, Ingrid. We’ll be completely fine. And if we aren’t, I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” Ingrid said quietly.

“Alright. Fly safe, mi amor. I love you.” Mapi said, pulling Ingrid into a hug. Her girlfriend clung to her, and Mapi rubbed her back softly, trying to provide some comfort.

“I love you too.” Ingrid whispered, pulling back to leave a sweet kiss on her girlfriend’s lips, before turning and walking into the airport.

Mapi sighed, a bit relieved because she honestly wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be returning home with Ingrid after a failed airport drop off. The Norwegian had been increasingly anxious about you in recent weeks, and Mapi knew that leaving you, now, felt like she was failing you as a sister, and as a guardian. She also knew, however, that she had the situation handled. You were comfortable with Mapi, and she was confident in her abilities to keep an eye on you, and make sure you were doing okay.

She understood Ingrid’s anxiety. The Norwegian had always been a person who needed to feel control. Leaving her very vulnerable sister behind while she went off to play football for two weeks would certainly not give Ingrid the sense of control she craved in every situation that scared her.

Ingrid had gone, though. Entered the airport, gotten on the plane. And now it was time for Mapi to get back home to you, and begin the 2 weeks of fun she had planned.

------

Mapi wanted to bond with you, in a way that didn’t involve heavy emotions and tears being spilled. She wanted to do something fun that you enjoyed. Even if it wasn’t something that she necessarily wouldn’t have chosen. When you enthusiastically suggested that you both go to your rock climbing gym, she’d agreed easily. How hard could it be? She was a professional athlete. She was fit and strong, and she knew she could do it. She’d checked with the trainers at Barça, and she’d been cleared for the activity. An important piece of information that she’d forgotten, however, was that she wasn’t the biggest fan of heights.

Well, it wasn’t that she forgot. It was more that she just didn’t think it would be an issue. Her fear of heights had decreased significantly in recent years. She went on hikes often up tall hills and mountains, and was barely bothered. She didn’t stop to consider that being tied to a wall and climbing to the top with very little support would be harder.

It was easy to get on the helmet, the harness, and all the gear. It was adorable to watch you expertly tie the knots to her carabiner, very nonchalantly, though Mapi could tell you wanted to impress her. It was fun to learn all the silly little commands she was supposed to shout. It was fun that you knew all the right pointers to tell her, easily getting her going up the wall. It was even fun climbing; it took a specific muscle strength that was slightly different than the one she possessed, and it was just difficult enough to present a challenge, without being overwhelmingly difficult.

As she got higher up, though, she became more and more aware that the only thing between her and falling a very significant distance to the ground was a rope and a self belaying machine. She kept herself calm, though, until she got to the top of the wall. She allowed herself a small smile, glancing down at where you were cheering for her.

That was her mistake. The ground was so far away. And once she started to panic she couldn’t really stop.

You were yelling instructions up to her, ones she could barely hear.“Okay, like I told you. Flip the hand brake to the other side, and let the slack of the rope slide through your hand.”

“NO!” Mapi shouted, surprising even herself with the volume of her voice. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? Is it stuck?” You replied. It didn’t even occur to you that Mapi might be scared. She was Mapi. She was fearless and confident and she was brave for you when you weren’t sure you could be.

“No, Sol, I can’t. I can’t.” Mapi said again, and you were floored to hear her start to get choked up. She had a white knuckle grip on the rope in one hand, holding tight to one of the handholds with the other. She looked like her whole body was trembling, and you floundered for a minute, entirely lost on what to do and how to help.

Though after thinking about it for another minute, the solution was clear. Ingrid could fix Mapi, just like Mapi could always fix Ingrid.

“Okay, Maps, hold on I’m gonna help you.” You shouted, seeing her nod weakly. There was no getting her down like this. You had to have some confidence in the equipment, and yourself, in order to repel down the wall, and Mapi clearly possessed confidence in neither of those things at the moment.

You grabbed your phone and called Ingrid. It went right to voicemail. You called again, waving off the worker who came up to ask if you needed help.

“I’m calling Ingrid, Mapi, just hang on.”

Ingrid didn’t answer for a second time. You dialed Caro’s number, one you had for emergencies, and she picked up on the first ring, no doubt concerned at the sight of your name on the caller ID.

“Hello?” Caro said.

“Caro, are you with Ingrid? Can you get her for me?”

“Uh… yeah. She’s in the gym, I’ll grab her. Is everything okay?”

“No, please hurry.”

It was unsettling to see Mapi this distraught, and you were absolutely flooded with guilt that you’d made her do this. She was clearly terrified and it was all your fault.

You heard some muffled voices over the phone before Ingrid’s absolutely panicked one came over the line.

“Solstråle? What is it?” She asked, beside herself with worry.

“Um. Mapi and I went to the climbing gym. And she made it to the top of the wall but now she’s… stuck.”

“Stuck? What do you mean stuck?”

“She’s too afraid to come down, I don’t know what to do.”

Ingrid fought off a smile. The mental image of Mapi stuck at the top of an indoor climbing wall, securely attached to a rope, a thick mat underneath her, in absolutely no danger at all, was comical, she couldn’t lie.

“Switch it to a video call.” She instructed, for no other reason than to get photographic evidence of this. Alexia would be getting a late birthday gift this year, in the form of this moment, framed.

You did as she asked, flipping the camera around to show Mapi up at the top of the wall. It was the shortest one in the place, and Ingrid had a very clear view of her girlfriend, holding onto the wall and the rope for dear life.

“Oh, María.” Ingrid chuckled, finding the whole situation very amusing. She took a screenshot, before you spoke and the situation became significantly less funny.

“Ingrid, I think she’s crying.” You murmured. That sobered up your sister pretty quickly. It was one thing for Mapi to be scared, and entirely another for her to be so terrified she was moved to tears. Ingrid very suddenly remembered Mapi’s fading fear of heights. Or, what was supposed to be a fading fear of heights.

“Shit. Can you get up there? With me in your pocket or something?”

You sounded almost cocky when you responded. “I could get up there with my eyes closed. It’s the easiest wall.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Okay, get me up to her.”

You did as your sister asked, attaching your harness to the ropes and getting the self belay machine all set, before you slipped your sister into your pocket, and climbed up the wall, at a speed that could only be described as a sprint. It took longer than it could have, because you went slightly diagonal, trying to get as close to Mapi as you could. When you reached her, she seemed completely spaced out, every muscle in her body tensed, a few tears on her cheeks.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, turned the volume up, and held it up so Mapi could see her girlfriend.

“María?” Ingrid said soothingly.

Mapi snapped back into herself, her head whipping around to look at the phone, and at you.

“Ingrid.” she said, relief clear in her voice.

“Hey. Are you scared?”

“No, I am staying up here for fun Ingrid.” Mapi snapped. Ingrid looked unimpressed, and Mapi mumbled an apology.

“Can you listen to what Sol tells you to do? And do it with her?”

“Isn’t there another way I can get down?” She asked in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, I can cut the rope and you’d drop right down.” You deadpanned. Mapi looked horrified at you, and you choked back a laugh.

“Solstråle, that is not nice!” Ingrid scolded. “María, my love, you are completely safe. You’re going to do what Sol says, and you’ll be back on the ground in a second, okay?”

“Okay.” Mapi agreed, glaring at you.

“See you in a sec Ingrid! If we make it down alive,” you added, tucking your sister back into your pocket before she could yell at you again.

When you spoke again, though, it was soft and encouraging, and Mapi knew that you were taking her fear seriously. It is one of those little signs that you loved her, too. You weren’t as good at saying it, having not heard it said to you for a lot of your life, but you showed it. When you’d squeeze her hand during a Barça game, knowing how hard it was for her to sit out. When you’d find a silly cat tiktok and send it to her, even though she knew you didn’t find whatever it was very funny. And now, when you talked her through the whole thing, assuring her that she’d be safe the whole time.

“It’s gonna be fine, Maps. Flip the handbrake off, and hold tight to the rope. You won’t go anywhere until you let yourself.”

Mapi found herself following your instructions without much thought. You just very clearly sounded like you knew what you were doing.

“Okay, good. Now loosen your hand on the rope, just a little. A bit will slide through and you’ll drop. The less you let go of, the slower you’ll descend.” Mapi let the rope go a bit, lowering maybe an inch. You nodded encouragingly, lowering down with her. “Keep your feet on the wall. You’re just going to walk yourself down. You can go as slow as you need to.”

Very slowly, at the pace of a wounded snail, you and Mapi moved down the wall. You didn’t stop talking the whole time, forgetting, honestly, that Ingrid was in your pocket.

She was sitting in the hallway, all the way in Norway, wondering what she did to deserve such a sweet sister, who cared so deeply for the people around her. Who adjusted to her girlfriend without a second thought. Who was sensitive and loving, even if you pretended not to be.

When Mapi got down the wall, she was still shaking too badly to undo the harness. You handed her your phone, un attaching her from the wall, as she spoke quietly to your sister. When she was free, and you were free, you shoved your face next to hers, greeting Ingrid again.

If Mapi was worried you’d make fun of her, she didn't have to be.

You just smiled at her. “Ice cream?” You asked hopefully. Mapi and Ingrid felt their lips both tug up into smiles, matching smiles.

“Definitely.” Mapi agreed.

The day had been a bonding experience. Just in a very different way than Mapi had anticipated.

------

You enjoyed spending time with Mapi, you really did. But you were also a person that needed a lot of time to yourself. Maybe it was a consequence of having no one around who paid much attention to you growing up, or maybe it was just how you were wired. Either way, after almost 2 weeks of spending every minute with your sister’s girlfriend, you needed a break.

Some silence, and a break.

Which is how you found yourself on a long hike, two days before Ingrid was due home. You’d gone yourself, without Scout, which wasn’t a common occurrence, but you wanted to be gone for a while. Just you and nature and nothing but your thoughts to echo around your head.

When you got to a fork in the path, you stopped to consider. The right path would lead you back down, and you’d be home within the hour. The left path would lead you through a tricky boulder section of the hike, and you’d be gone another 2 hours.

Your only hesitation with the left path was that Ingrid had very specifically told you not to take it alone. You’d talked to her before you’d left, and she’d warned you that the boulders were really tricky, and you shouldn’t do it by yourself. She promised to go with you when she got back, if you promised not to do it today.

Mapi would never know, though. You’d just tell her you stopped at the top to enjoy the views for a bit, before you headed down. And if Mapi didn’t know, Ingrid wouldn’t know. And you really, really, just wanted some more time to yourself.

So you set off to the left, ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut that you were making a mistake.

------

You didn’t remember it hurting this bad, having a broken bone. It was definitely broken, though. You’d heard it go, even as your body hit the ground with a loud thump.

The boulders had been tricky. So incredibly tricky. They were slightly loose and wobbly, and there were big gaps in between where you could easily fall. You had to get up and over a pile of rocks to keep moving, and you were tired. There were only a few more, by your estimations, and you were so relieved to almost be done that you were a bit more careless on the last few.

It was the final obstacle that you fell from. You lost your footing towards the end of the boulder pile, rolling and tumbling down the last boulder, and onto the dirt path. You threw your arm out to catch yourself, and that was all it took.

Sitting for a moment, you assessed your hand. It was broken. You knew instantly. You’d felt this before, you knew what it was. You felt strangely calm after making that assessment, carefully testing all of your fingers, and trying to move your wrist.

Ouch. No, it was definitely broken. You had a couple options. You could call Mapi to come get you. She’d freak out and call your sister, who would be furious that you’d done exactly what she warned you not to. Or, you could finish the hike and get home. Pretend you were tired from your hike, or sick or something, and sneak away into your bedroom. Sleep it off.

Logically, you knew the second option was bullshit. You couldn’t hide a broken arm forever. The thought of going to the doctor, though, was not something you would even consider. You only had one choice.

You rose to your feet, the movement jostling your arm just enough to make your stomach turn. You bent over, throwing up onto the path. Straightening up again, you set off down the path, arm cradled close to your body. You could do this. You were strong and independent and you didn’t need anyones help.

------

You felt like the universe was on your side, with the way things were going. Aside from the broken arm, of course. You were able to slip past Mapi, telling her a small lie that you’d grabbed food on the way home and weren’t feeling well, before you made it to your room. She popped her head in to say goodnight, and if she thought your behavior was weird, she didn’t say anything.

You waited until she was in bed to shower, knowing she’d be up early for training the next day. You weren’t quite sure what your plan was past that, but you were taking this step by step.

If Mapi didn’t know, she wouldn’t make you go to the doctor. She wouldn’t tell Ingrid. And Ingrid wouldn’t be mad.

It was very poor logic, but logic nonetheless.

You probably could have kept it up for longer, too, if your damn dog wasn’t so intelligent.

------

Scout wasn’t sure what a broken bone was. Nor was he sure what was wrong with you. But you were hurting, had cried yourself to sleep the night before, and no one was doing anything. The helpful tall one was gone, leaving him with only the annoying and loud short one. Scout didn't think she was very smart, but he’d try to get the message across that someone should probably do something about you, his favorite person on planet earth.

He followed her around when she arrived home from training. She ignored him.

When she sat on the couch and turned the TV on, he stood right next to her, staring daggers at her face. She ignored him.

It wasn’t until he started to whine loudly, and paw at her hand that she got fed up and finally looked at him.

“Scout, chico, I am begging you to leave me alone.” Mapi sighed. The dog just looked at her, taking a tiny step closer to the Spaniard and letting out a quiet whine. “I swear to god.”

She stood from the couch, heading for your room. If Scout would listen to anyone, it would be you. And she assumed that he was just pouting because you had shut your door, not allowing him inside. Now that Mapi thought about it, though, she realized she hadn’t seen you at all today, though she had exchanged texts with you while she was at training. Upon arriving at your door she raised her hand to knock, but before her hand could make contact with the wood, she heard a quiet, pained yelp come from the room.

Mapi frowned. “Nena?” She called, knocking on the door before trying to knob.

It was locked.

You never locked your door.

Mapi paused for a moment, looking down at Scout next to her, who was panting and staring up at her. See, his eyes seemed to say. I told you something was wrong.

“Solstråle? Can I come in?”

Inside, you had clapped your good hand over your mouth, realizing that Mapi had heard the sound you’d made. You’d been trying to pull a sweatshirt on to hide the awful sight of your arm, but even the soft brush of the fabric against your arm was horribly painful.

Fuck. Fuck. Mapi wasn’t going to go away, not without seeing you. You struggled with the sweatshirt further before responding, but you were unable to muffle a cry of pain when your forearm twisted slightly.

You shut your eyes, fighting back tears. “I’m fine, Mapi.” You replied, though you knew very well that it would not be enough for the Spaniard.

“You don’t sound fine.” Mapi said, twisting the knob again, as if it would have magically unlocked itself in the last few seconds.

“I am. All good.” You said back, fighting against the urge to open the door and collapse into her arms; your arm was on fire, the pain so bad that you were barely keeping yourself from openly sobbing.

On the other side of the door, Mapi shook her head, growing more and more panicked. You didn’t sound right, not at all. Scout next to her had begun to pace, and she was trying to figure out if she could break the door down before she spoke again.

“Open the door, nena. I am not asking. I need to see that you’re safe.” Mapi said firmly, closing her eyes and praying to god that you were okay.

You had no choice. You stepped forward, unlocking the door, and Mapi’s eyes fell to you, cradling your arm close to your chest. You arm that looked wrong. It was bent at a slightly awkward angle, turning an ugly shade of purple, and it was twice the size of how it normally was.

“Jesus.” Mapi sighed, stepping closer to you, she missed the pure panic that flashed across your face, but she saw you flinch violently away from her, backing up until you were on the opposite side of the room. There were tears in your eyes, and Mapi froze, raising her hands in the air.

“Sol,” Mapi began, her heart shattering when you shook your head rapidly, wordlessly begging for something, although Mapi wasn’t quite sure what. “It’s just me, Sol. I won’t touch your arm. I just want to look at it, okay? I promise, I will not touch you.”

You blinked at her for a minute, before nodding slowly. You moved over to your bed, taking a seat on the edge, sitting rather stiffly. It was a testament to the trust you had in the Spaniard that you held your arm out for her to see, a quiet sob falling from your lips.

Mapi moved closer slowly, like you were a wild animal she didn’t want to scare off, until she was standing right in front of you. She kept her hands behind her back, simply looking at your arm. It was broken. Mapi wasn’t a doctor, but this wasn’t a difficult determination to make. A broken arm is pretty obvious.

“What happened?”

“I fell.”

“How did you fall?”

“I was hiking along those rocks that Ingrid told me not to climb on and I lost my balance and fell on my arm.”

“This was yesterday?” Mapi breathed, sick to her stomach at the thought that you’d been hiding this from her for so long. That you’d been hiding it at all, but that you’d gone to sleep with an untreated broken bone, that she’d left you alone while she went to training, while you had a broken bone.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, cariño.” She sighed. “You must be in so much pain.” She studied you closely, and she decided that now was not the time to have a conversation about hiding things from her. “Nena, do you want a hug?”

Now that she knew, it was even harder to pretend that you were fine. She was right. You had been in a lot of pain. You were acutely aware of that pain, now, and how desperately you wanted someone to take charge of the situation and make everything okay.

“Please,” you whispered, leaning in her direction. Mapi very carefully wrapped her arms around you, gently rubbing her hand up and down your back. You trembled against her, and Mapi thought at that moment that she would break her own arm if it meant you weren’t in pain.

Mapi hugged you tight for a minute before she very regretfully pulled back, putting her hands on her shoulders and studying you. “Okay. Okay. Here is what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, we are going to have a talk about hiding injuries from us. Because Sol, this is so dangerous. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me, and you can explain later, but right now we need to go see a doctor.”

“No.” You said simply, your face hardening as you looked up at the Spaniard. And it wasn’t that Mapi hadn’t expected some resistance; she knew that you had an issue with doctors. It was the decisiveness with which you spoke, and the barely masked fright on your face.

“Solstråle, we need to get that x-rayed.”

“No. It’s fine, Mapi.”

“It isn’t fine! It looks broken, nena, we need to get it looked at.”

“No. No doctors, no hospital, no x-ray.”

“Solstråle, I will call your sister if I need to. We are going to the doctor.”

A look of betrayal flashed across our face, and you held your arm tighter to your body in a protective manner. “Please don’t make me.” You whispered.

Harsh wasn’t working. Demanding wasn’t working. Mapi knew she couldn’t force you. She just had to convince you. She stepped closer, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You are scared, that’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time, though, nena. Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.” You said, your voice cracking a bit, looking up at Mapi with wide, wet eyes.

“I promise you, I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

You considered for a moment. You knew, realistically, that you had to go in. And you also knew that Ingrid was probably going to be furious with you. You craved comfort from your sister, though, you needed to hear her voice, telling you that you were safe. Ingrid knew a bit more than Mapi did about your issue with doctors, even though she didn’t have the full story. Ingrid was safe, and so was Mapi, but you really just wanted your sister.

“Can I call Ingrid on the way there?”

And even though Mapi winced internally at mere thought of how upset this would make her girlfriend, she nodded. “Of course you can. Come on, let’s go.”

The care with which Mapi helped you down the stairs brought tears to your eyes. She put your shoes on for you, double knotting the laces like you always did, before she paused, crouched in front of where you sat on the bench by the front door.

“I promise you, Sol. I am not going to let anything happen to you. Okay? I’ve got you, kid.” She said, watching as you blinked hard, clenching your jaw and nodding.

“Yeah, thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Mapi helped you up, then, and you both exited the house.

Mapi dialed the phone in the car, connecting it to the speaker. Ingrid picked up on the first ring, almost like she knew something was wrong. “Hi mi amor,” she greeted warmly.

“Hola. We’re in the car, Sol is with me.”

“Hi solstråle,” Ingrid said.

“Hi,” you replied, not uttering another word.

“Tell her what happened, mi sol.” Mapi encouraged

“Tell me what? What happened?” Ingrid asked, her tone much more concerned and serious.

“I hurt my arm. We’re going to the doctor.” You mumbled. Ingrid sighed, but she got the feeling that this wasn’t the worst of what you had to tell her, that it was going to get worse.

“How? What’s wrong with it?”

“I was hiking and I fell. Mapi thinks it’s broken.”

“Broken…climbing… on the trail I told you to be careful on- wait, Sol that was yesterday. This happened yesterday!?” Ingrid shouted. “Why are you just taking her now, María?”

Mapi winced. “I didn’t know until now.”

“YOU DIDN’T TELL MAPI UNTIL NOW?” Ingrid yelled, so loudly that the speakers crackled slightly.

Mapi glanced over at you to see that there were tears pouring down your cheeks, and your bottom lip captured in between your teeth, as you tried valiantly not to cry. Shit.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Relax, let’s all just take a breath.” She soothed, turning to pull over on a side street.

“María, I will not relax, this is not oka-”

“Ingrid, stop.” Mapi said firmly, her voice more stern than you’d ever heard it. Ingrid fell silent. “Sol, breathe. Ingrid isn’t mad, she’s just worried. We are okay, everything is okay.”

You nodded frantically, trying to get a handle on your emotions, which were, frankly, overwhelming at the moment. “Sorry, I’m sorry Ingrid, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.

Ingrid felt her heart shatter. She hadn’t meant to shout. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, honey.”

“I just- the last time I hurt my arm mom didn’t believe me and you told me to be careful and I didn’t want you to be mad, and I didn’t know if you’d think I was lying, and I don’t want to go to the doctor, Ingrid, but Mapi is taking me and she says I have to, and-” you cut yourself off with another loud sob, before arms were reaching over the center console and wrapping around you.

“Shh, nena, it’s okay. You are safe, you are loved. You are okay.” Mapi whispered, loud enough that Ingrid could hear it over the phone. Tears were falling down her cheeks, too, for a combination of reasons. Mostly, though, because her girlfriend was being so absurdly sweet and patient with you. Not that María would ever be anything different, but Ingrid would never stop appreciating it.

Once you’d calmed down a bit, you leaned back away from Mapi, looking at her desperately. “María I really don’t want to go to the doctor, please don’t make me,” you begged. Even as everything in Mapi wanted to give in and take you home where you felt safe, her eyes flickered down to your arm, which was black and blue and swollen, and she knew that wasn’t an option. Before she could speak, though, Ingrid chimed in.

“Solstråle, switch the phone to a video call and let me see your arm.”

You did as she asked, fighting back another wave of tears when Ingrid’s face popped up on the screen, looking sympathetically at you. You held up your arm, holding back a groan of pain as you did so, not happy when Ingrid frowned at the sight.

“Sweetheart,”

“No,” you cried, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow. This was absurd. Your arm was clearly broken, you were 18 years old, and you were afraid of the doctor. Like a child. It was humiliating and you wanted nothing more than to pretend that this was fine, that you were fine going to get a few x-rays and a cast, but the feelings of anxiety and panic were only rising in you again, and your whole body shook at the thought of letting a doctor anywhere near your arm.

“I know, I know,” Ingrid whispered, sounding like she really did know. While your parents had always dismissed your fear of doctors as you being dramatic, ingrid had always been able to tell that you were completely and utterly terrified of going in for a check up, or going into the hospital. The pure horror in your eyes whenever you had to do so was proof enough, but she’d had to take you once, just to get your flu shot, and you’d silently cried the entire way to the office, thrown up in the bathroom upon arriving, and almost broke her hand with your strong grip while the shot was being administered.

You hadn’t always been like this, though. It had started when you were 10, and Ingrid had never known the reason. You’d never told her, and your parents hadn’t either.

“You’re scared, yes? Can you tell me what is making you so afraid?” Ingrid asked gently.

You took a few shuddering breaths before hesitantly looking at her on the screen. “When I broke my arm? They had to reset it because mom waited to take me to the doctor and the bones were in the wrong spot.

They told me they were going to put some ice on it and a bandage and then the nurses were holding me down and the doctor was forcing the bones back into place.”

You took a minute, trying to stop the incessant shakes that were running through your body at the memory. You jumped slightly when Mapi’s hand found your uninjured one, but you grabbed on tight, closing your eyes to finish your explanation.

“I cried and I screamed and mom told me to stop being dramatic, and that I was embarrassing her in front of all the doctors. They made her leave the room then, and it was just me and the doctor and the nurses. The bones didn’t go back right on the first try, and they had to do it two more times before it worked. Mom only came in when they were done and they were putting the cast on. I asked her if I could call you, and she said no, because you were too busy for me.”

It all made sense, now. Ingrid remembered coming back from international duty after you’d broken your arm. You’d seemed so depressed and withdrawn, and she’d assumed you were upset about the injury. Never could she have imagined what had gone on while she was gone.

“That is awful, nena. You did not deserve that, and I am so sorry that happened to you.” Mapi began, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I understand why you’re scared. I promise you, though, I won’t let anyone touch you until you say it’s okay. They’ll tell you what they’re going to do before they do it, and I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Your sister could tell that you were slightly more convinced, now. You really trusted Mapi. She’d never given you a reason not to trust her.

“Solstråle, you really need to get it looked at. I’m sorry I’m not there, I’m sorry I wasn’t there the first time, but Mapi is going to take really good care of you, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, another tear sliding down your cheek. Even as you did so, though, even as you gave Mapi permission to start the car and resume the drive to the hospital, you weren’t sure you could do this. You understood the importance of getting your arm taken care of, and you’d try. Whether you’d get through this hospital trip, though, was a different story.

--------

Mapi was relatively sure she was going to need an x-ray herself; you were holding her hand so tightly, your knuckles were white. You were shaking in the hospital bed, a vacant expression on your face.

You’d been sort of… despondent since returning from your x-ray. The doctors had insisted you go alone, and after some convincing, you’d agreed. When they walked you back into the room where Mapi was waiting, though, it was clear you were in another place. All she could do was wait for you to come back a bit.

“Mapi?” You said quietly, getting the attention of the Spaniard, who had been looking down at her phone, texting your sister.

“Sí nena?” Mapi replied, very gently squeezing your hand. You looked at her, then, making eye contact for the first time since returning from x-rays, and Mapi winced at the terror in your eyes.

“I don’t feel safe.” You whispered, unsure of what else you could do or say. You needed help, your fear was rapidly becoming overwhelming, especially because you knew that any minute, the doctor would be returning.

Mapi nodded sympathetically, reaching out with her free hand to push some hair off your forehead. She knew that physical touch was often the only thing that could comfort you when you were feeling anxious. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel more safe?”

“Promise you won’t leave? You won’t let them hurt me?”

“I will stay right here with you the whole time. And I will never let anyone hurt you.” Mapi looked at you with such conviction, spoke with such confidence and finality, you had no choice but to believe her.

“I want to go home.” You whimpered, your voice cracking.

“Soon, mi sol. Soon.”

It was only a few minutes later that the doctor returned. She was a kind woman, gentle and cautious. She had some understanding that you were afraid, and she’s respected that. She told you everything she was going to do before she did it, and she hadn’t once made you feel ridiculous for how you were acting.

“Alrighty. Got your x rays here. We’re looking at a bilateral forearm fracture, which means both the radius and the ulna are broken. The fractured are clean across, nothing is displaced which is good news for you; that means we can put the cast on, and nothing has to get put back into place.”

Mapi watched as your body practically deflated next to her, a long sigh of relief escaping your lips.

The doctor continued. “I am curious, though. Have you broken this arm before?”

You stiffened slightly, and Mapi shifted next to you, moving closer unconsciously in a protective manner.

“Yeah, when I was 10.”

The doctor nodded. “I can see it on the x-ray, there’s a line here, where it didn't heal exactly right. That white dot? You’ve developed a bit of a bone spur there where the bones weren’t properly aligned the first time. Does it give you pain?”

You shrugged. The relief was gone from your face, and you only looked defensive now. “Sometimes.”

Mapi guessed that sometimes meant often, and she wondered if you ever would have told her and Ingrid that you were having issues with your arm, if this hadn’t occurred.

“Well, the good news is your bones are not at risk for healing in the wrong spot, so you should avoid a repeat of the first injury complications. There are options, though, if that bone spur continues to give you issues. Physical therapy, steroid injections, and surgery are all on the table.”

You nodded, jaw clenched tightly shut. Mapi could tell this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have, and she figured you’d been pushed far enough today.

“Thank you, very much. What is the recovery time like?” She said, effectively drawing the attention away from you as the conversation turned to casts and braces and slings.

You might as well have been in another room, for all you heard. You didn’t need to get the bones reset. Just a cast. You could handle that.

Or, you thought you could. It was much more stress-inducing than you expected, when the doctor came in with the items to make the cast, and reached for your arm. You flinched away from her violently, looking helplessly at Mapi. You were thinking about how she said she wouldn’t let anyone touch you if you didn’t want them to, and Mapi knew that.

“Can you give her a second, please?” Mapi said, not taking her eyes off of you as she slid into the hospital bed you were sitting upright in.

The doctor nodded, for her part lacking understanding, but not needing an explanation to respect that you were clearly terrified.

“Sol, breathe. It’s just the cast. They’re gonna put it on, they aren’t going to mess with your arm. You can do this, I know you can.” Mapi encouraged, more than a little surprised when you took a deep breath, nodded, and held your arm out to the doctor.You turned your head away, pressing your face into Mapi’s shoulder, gripping onto her shirt with your good hand.

You were putting all of your trust in Mapi in that moment, to ensure that the doctor was gentle and didn’t do anything she hadn’t said she would. This wasn’t lost on the Spaniard, and she watched closely as they wrapped your arm, and began applying the plaster.

She could feel your tears soaking through the fabric of her shirt, though you were completely silent as you cried. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, Mapi cursed your mother with everything in her. The woman had given her Ingrid, and you by extension, but she had inflicted so much pain on you in your short life. Mapi ached for the day where these scars weren’t painfully obvious, for the day you could go to the doctor without fear, ask for a hug when you needed one, cry openly when you were hurting, believe with all your heart that you were loved.

She held tight to you, watching as the doctor put the finishing touches on your cast.

“I’ve got you, nena.” She whispered. “Almost done.”

You were too good to have experienced everything that you had. She just wanted you to be happy.

When you pulled away from her to inspect your arm, she could still see such apprehension written clearly across your face. She wondered how long it would take for it to fully leave. Or if it ever would. Some scars never faded.

You gave her a watery smile, though, nodding towards the blue of your cast. “Couldn’t get it blaugrana but this is good too, right?” You joked.

Mapi returned your smile, feeling a very familiar spark of hope inside of her chest. Of course you would be okay. Of course you would. You were one of the strongest, most resilient people she knew.

“Very good. I am going to draw something so inappropriate on there before your sister gets home.”

You laughed, and Mapi laughed, both of you felt a bit like everything would be okay. Even if Ingrid scribbled over whatever Mapi drew on your cast.

-------

You sat blankly on the couch upon arriving home, staring at the cast your hand was wrapped in. You weren’t really sure what to do now, and it didn’t seem like Mapi knew, either. She took a seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her.

“Talk to me, nena.” She encouraged.

“I just don’t feel good. I’m really tired.” You told her.

“It’s been a long day, your body is coming down from a lot of stress and anxiety. You’re okay, now, so let’s just lay on the couch and relax, sí?”

You agreed, shifting to move into your spot in the corner of the sectional, before you paused. “Can you stay with me?” You asked.

Mapi smiled at you. “Of course I can. Even if it means your damn dog is going to come lay on my legs and get fur all over my pants.”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, but you couldn’t give much of an argument because Scout jumped up on the couch right after, flopping down on your legs, making sure to stretch a leg out to rest on Mapi’s legs, too.

You dozed off relatively easily, clearly drained from a very emotionally and physically exhausting day, and Mapi took the opportunity to call her girlfriend, who she had been updating over text frequently, but who would still be, no doubt, beside herself with worry.

When Ingrid answered the phone, and only Mapi’s face appeared in view of the camera, Ingrid half convinced herself that you’d locked yourself in a room somewhere and were refusing to come out. Mapi shifted the camera, though, showing you absolutely passed out on the couch, your uninjured hand holding onto her arm, something you’d done completely in your sleep.

“Hey.” Mapi greeted. She didn’t worry about the volume of her voice; you could sleep through anything.

“Hi.” Ingrid said, feeling ridiculously emotional at the sight of her two favorite people together. “She’s okay?”

“Yeah. It was really hard for her, I’ve never seen her that anxious. They just put a cast on, though, and she’s relaxed enough now to rest. She was so exhausted, Ingrid, I’d be surprised if she slept at all last night.” Mapi paused as Ingrid hummed. The Norwegian could tell her girlfriend was upset, just from the way her mouth was set stiffly, and the way her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“How are you doing my love? That must have been really hard to see.” She commented, studying Mapi’s expression closely.

The Spaniard just shrugged, though. “I am sorry this happened, I know how worried you must have been being so far away.”

Ingrid shook her head. “Don’t do that, don’t try to distract me. I want to know how you are doing.”

Mapi nibbled on her lip for a moment, her eyes everywhere but on the phone in front of her. “I am so sorry Ingrid.” She said finally, the phone dropping into her lap as she wiped impatiently at her eyes. Ingrid had to be furious with her. Had to be. This was all Mapi’s fault, after all.

Of course, Ingrid had never considered blaming Mapi, not for a single minute. “No, baby, this isn’t your fault.” She said, as if she’d read her girlfriends mind. Mapi could only scoff. “I’m serious, María. These things happen, it’s no one's fault.”

“She didn’t tell me. She didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” Mapi whispered.

Ingrid frowned. “No, she trusts you. It’s complicated with her, when she’s hurt. You heard what she said about when she broke her arm the first time. Her response to being hurt was completely based on that experience, it had nothing to do with you.”

Everything Ingrid said was so logical, Mapi had a hard time coming up with a counter argument. She wasn’t quite ready to forgive herself, though, so she changed the subject.

“You come home tomorrow.” She said, a small smile gracing her lips.

Ingrid let the very obvious subject change go in favor of smiling back at her girlfriend. “I do. I’ve missed you both so much.”

“I have to make sure to sign Sol’s cast before you get here.” Mapi said thoughtfully.

Ingrid grew pale at the thought. “No, María, whatever you are planning to put on there please, please don’t. Just write your name.”

“Oh, my name will be on there.” Mapi smirked.

Well, at least it didn’t seem like she was planning something explicit. “Leave room for me to sign too.” Ingrid said grumpily.

Mapi almost jumped when you chimed in from next to her, throat slightly scratchy. “Ingrid signs first. Those are the rules.” You mumbled, barely opening your eyes to address your sister when Mapi tilted the phone towards you.

“Ha!” Ingrid said, looking very pleased with herself.

Mapi wanted to argue, she really did. She knew, though, that Ingrid felt insecure about her relationship with you. You were a bit more open with Mapi, a bit more outwardly trusting. Mapi knew this was just because she normally had a much softer approach, though Ingrid’s tougher one was definitely necessary. She knew, too, that Ingrid worried a lot that you preferred Mapi to your sister. So, she let this one go.

“Fine. I don’t need to sign it. I’ve already got that number 4 tattooed on you.”

Ingrid paled. “No. No you didn’t. María Pilar León Cebrian, no you did not.”

“She did. It’s huge, on my right ass cheek.” Next to you, Mapi stifled her laughter, and you did your best to keep a straight face.

“You better be kidding. I swear to god if I get off that airplane and you have a four tattooed on your ass I will kill you both right there.”

“How are you going to check? Are you going to pants me in the airport?” You laughed.

“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, her teeth clenched.

“Relaaaax Ingrid. I don’t have any more tattoos,”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

“...Yet.” You added, laughing with Mapi when Ingrid brought the phone closer to her face.

“NO! No, Solstråle, no no no no no.”

You and Mapi laughed so hard you could barely breathe, hearing Ingrid repeating no over and over.

Ingrid rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t annoyed, not really. You were laughing and that was a big change from before. You were on the road to recovery, and you looked adorable all curled up next to Mapi, grinning at your sister through the phone. How could she be upset at your [stupid, idiotic, immature] joke?

Though she really would murder her girlfriend if you had another tattoo when she got home.

-------

this took me an absolutely absurd amount of time.

hope you enjoy sol <3

ps. please tell me all your sol thoughts comments keep me living and breathing 🫶🏻🫶🏻

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #🍓☀️

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month

Text

the same tv

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context

the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.

you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.

you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.

you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.

this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.

the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.

you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.

you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.

“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.

“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”

the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.

“i thought the people who lived here died.”

you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.

“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.

he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.

“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door.

“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.

-- years later --

you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.

“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.

“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”

he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.”

he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”

you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.

“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.

you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.

“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”

“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”

you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin.

“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal.

“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”

“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.

“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.

“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.

“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.

you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.

“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.

“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.

“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”

you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”

-- three months later --

“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”

you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.

“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.”

you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”

“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.

“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.

“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.

“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.

“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”

“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch.

you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.

you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.

rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.

you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.

“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.

“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.

“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”

“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.

you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.

rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”

“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.

rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.

you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.

the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.

by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.

“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.

you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”

things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.

“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.

rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.

you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”

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