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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months

Note

Okay okay, hear me out.

A bantery sort of annoying best friend trope with Miguel O'Hara. Like, hes stubborn, but reader is just as stubborn and hard headed. So like, on a mission Miguel is like "Why werent you paying attention?" and SpiderPerson!Reader is like "You're a very distracting man." And then like, the classic upside down Spiderman kiss. Apologies if this is a mess, the brainrot is real.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: None, just some good ol' fluff paired alongside some classic best friends to lovers. You know the dealio :3

It wasn’t easy being best friends with Miguel O’Hara.

He was stubborn, stoic, annoying, always thought he was right, and incredibly grumpy (almost all the time! It must be exhausting) amongst many other things. But all those things made him who he was, alongside the kindness and care he has for everyone, hidden behind that Spider-Society leader guise.

It wasn’t easy, but he was your best friend just as you were his. Your favourite person amongst the millions of people on this planet, and the billions upon trillions of people in the multiverse.

But it was even more difficult when you had the biggest raging crush on him. You felt like a little teenager, lost in the vastness of your own heart that quickly grew more and more fond of the person you loved with each day that passed.

Your feelings made you act silly and lovesick (and you knew damn well he noticed, he just never said anything about it), but they weren’t going anywhere for the time being so here they stayed.

They weren’t too great during missions though.

“Hey, Miguel~,” you say, sidling up to him with a stupid grin on your face. He stops you with a palm on your face, not allowing you to get too close.

“Ugh, what-?” he says, pulling his hand back in disgust. “Did you just lick me?!”

“Don’t put your hand in front of my face then, you should know by now the consequences of that,” you say with a tsk, before bursting into laughter at his expression.

“Unfortunately,” he sighs, rubbing it onto your suit. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” you say, pretending to be confused.

“What do you mean what- The mission? Are you ready for the mission we’re supposed to be going on in the next minute,” he huffs incredulously.

“Obviously, Miguel,” you snort. “How long have we been doing this job? Have you so little faith in me?” you ask.

“Yes,” he deadpans, and you gasp.

“How dare you?” you say, pressing a hand to your chest in offence.

“You are the most dramatic person I know,” he says, glancing over toward you as he programs the watch to the universe you were both headed to.

“You love me,” you say in turn.

“Unfortunately,” he says, and you grin widely.

“Awwww, Miguel~,” you say, pulling him into a hug that he hesitantly returns (though you knew he loved hugs, he would just rather die than admit it).

“Alright, alright,” he says pulling away. “Focus up, we need to be on our A-game for this guy.”

“Aye, aye, captain! Lead the way,” you say, and he rolls his eyes but can’t quite conceal the smile on his face at your antics before his mask reforms on his face.

Together you both make your way through the portal, getting transported past thousands of worlds in mere seconds before arriving at the one with the anomaly.

“Oh, cool~,” you say with a childlike wonder. Around you is a world that looked like it came straight out of a painting, everything looking almost acrylic in nature and beauty.

“You saw this in the briefing,” he says to you but looks around himself with a sort of wonder.

“A picture on a screen is entirely different from seeing something like this in real life, Miguel,” you retort, still looking around in awe. Looking down at your own form, your costume was blended in splotches of your iconic colours, like you had walked right out of a portrait.

He doesn’t say anything to that, instead patting your head once before walking away toward the mission site.

“C’mon. The faster we finish up, the sooner we can head back. We can have a movie night back at my place, yeah?” he says, and you perk up immediately before running after him.

“That sounds perfect, ‘cause I baked too many cookies that I don’t know what to do with,” you say embarrassed, knowing full well that you had baked them for him. He always did love your baking.

You notice the side of his mask shifts upward slightly, a telltale sign that he was happy even with the mask concealing most of his expressions but you don’t say anything, only smiling softly to yourself.

“Lyla, do a full sweep of the building before we head in. I don’t want any surprises,” he calls out, and the AI pops up immediately.

“Ugh, so bossy,” she says, and you snort.

“You could say that again,” you say in turn, while Miguel only sighs.

“Are you two done insulting me yet?” he says, and you turn to face him, walking backwards as you do.

“Never!” you say, before you’re snatched off of the ground with a yelp. He calls out your name, immediately swinging in after you.

“NOT COOL DUDE,” you shout to the villain who had his tentacles wrapped around your waist, dangling you upside down as she stuck to the ceiling. “Shouldn’t you be in the sea, doing…whatever octopuses do?”

“This seems a lot more fun,” the villain says, her voice a gurgling sort of low tone that sounds much more ominous than it should.

You shoot your webs out onto the ceiling, trying to pull yourself up and out of her grasp to no avail, her hold too strong.

Bit by bit her hold continued to tighten, inhibiting your ability to breathe.

“H-hey, we can talk about this right?” you gasp out, but before you know it Miguel was flying up toward you.

He looked so serious and intent on getting you out, his muscles flexing as he held on to his webbing.

Quite frankly, it was hot.

So hot that you failed to notice that Miguel had smacked you out of the villain’s grasp, expecting you to swing yourself out. Instead, you fall to the floor with a thud and a loud groan. It wasn’t a far fall, and all your limbs were still intact but the wind that was already limited in your lungs was smacked out of you, and the ground was definitely going to leave a bruise.

“FOCUS!” he shouts to you, sending another punch to the villain’s face to knock her off balance. That luckily snaps you out of your reverie as you stand back onto your feet, swinging up to help him out.

You use your webbing to pull the tentacles off of the wall, meanwhile, Miguel acts as a distraction so she can’t focus on the fact that she’s being brought down to the ground where a trap lay for her to land in.

Bit by bit more tentacles become loose, and with one last hit from Miguel she falls to the floor with a scream, the force field raising around her immediately.

“You won’t get away with this!” she says angrily, but you only smirk, swinging down to her level.

“Doesn’t seem like there’s much you can do in this position, can you? Don’t worry, we won’t keep you for long. You’ll be back in your universe in no time~” you say, opening up a portal straight into the holding room for the other anomalies and pushing her in.

“Bye!” you say simply before the portal closes, taking her with it.

Then, the building is quiet, and you wince as you feel Miguel’s imposing aura behind you. Grasping your shoulder, he whirls you around as he looks at you exasperatedly.

"Why the hell weren’t you paying attention?" he asks you, arms moving animatedly as they usually do.

“In my defence…you didn’t notice her coming either,” you say.

“That’s not an excuse! You have your Spidey-sense, you have an instinct that tells you when you’re in danger,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And that fall, what was that? You saw me coming, why are you so distracted today?” he says with a sigh.

“Well, you’re a very distracting man,” you mumble, and his eyes widen slightly under his mask before it dissipates, leaving only his handsome face behind. You pull off your mask in turn, only staring into his eyes.

He stares back before sighing.

“Are you hurt?” he says, his eyes running over your body scanning for any injuries.

“I’ve taken worse hits than that, you know,” you say in turn, your face heating up slightly.

“An injury is an injury regardless of how bad it is,” he says, walking around you to make sure nothing is out of place.

“Jeez, you should take your own advice Mr. ‘I don’t need to go to the infirmary ever’” you huff.

“That’s different,” he retorts.

“It’s really not.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not gonna argue with you right now,” he rolls his eyes.

“Oh c’mon, you know that’s your favourite pastime,” you smirk.

“It’s not.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, it is.”

“I only tell the truth, it’s not.”

“You say that, but here you are arguing with me again,” you grin, and he groans.

“Regardless, you did good today,” he says after a moment.

“I always do good, what do you mean,” and he looks at you incredulously.

“Can you just allow me to compliment you?”

You just shrug.

“Ehhhh, I struggle to accept compliments because deep down I’m incredibly insecure and can’t make myself believe that I can do well, let alone have other people think that so…yeah!”

“…we’ll talk about this later,” he says, patting your shoulder (the tiniest bit awkwardly, which made you almost laugh considering how long you two have known each other).

“So, since you think I ‘did good’ today, what’s my reward?” you ask expectantly, the corner of your mouth quirked up. He hums for a moment before slinging his webs onto the ceiling, swinging himself up so that he hung upside-down.

“C’mere,” he says, and you look at him confused.

“What on Earth are you doing?” you say.

“Can you just listen to me for once and come here?” he says exasperatedly, so you relent and walk so you’re about a foot away from him.

“Closer,” he says, and you step closer hesitantly, the proximity making you nervous. He only huffs, reaching out to grasp onto your arm so you’re standing face to face.

The hand on your arm reaches up, softly placing itself on your cheek as you let out a little gasp. His eyes bore into yours, and you get lost in the swirling crimson and gold.

“Is this alright?” he says softly, his breath fanning across your face. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the warmth of his hand pressed into your cheek gently. You can’t do anything but nod.

His lips press into yours, slightly chapped but soft as he kissed you softly.

You had never felt anything so right.

“What was that for?” you whisper as he pulls away after a few seconds that felt like an eternity condensed into a single moment.

He snorts softly before swinging back onto his feet, pulling you into his chest with a hug.

“I know you have feelings for me,” he says, and your body tenses for a moment at the blatant comment.

“I-” you start, but he interjects calmly.

“Hasn’t it been obvious that I have feelings for you too?” he asks as he pulls away, cupping your cheeks in both his hands.

“I, I thought it was just because I was your best friend,” you say as all those little moments you’ve had over the years play through your head. It makes him laugh softly, oh how you loved that laugh.

“You’re painfully oblivious sometimes, you know,” he says, but the fondness is evident in his voice.

“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, a tad bit flustered but you already missed the feeling of his lips on yours.

He smiles down at you before kissing you tenderly, fingers tangling through your hair as your hand rests on his chest, feeling his racing heart.

Finally, you felt complete.

“I didn’t know you were so soft,” you giggle as you return back to HQ.

“I am not soft,” he says almost offendedly, but the corner of his lip is quirked up the tiniest bit. “Though if I was, it would only be for you.”

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes

A/N: Two updates in one day? That's wild, haha. Am I writing this because I saw this prompt and I myself am in love with my best friend? Absolutely, but hey! Coping mechanisms, am I right :)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader

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pix3lplays · 3 months

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I've seen Drunk Ratio being portrayed as a goofball but what about a weepy and sad drunk Ratio?

After having one to many drinks, the man starts talking about how much he hates himself and how, no matter how intelligent he is, he'll never be good enough for the Genius Society. After letting out a humourless laugh, he starts silently weeping. But he immediately wipes his tears away when you walk in, concerned.

After cleaning up the kitchen, you drag Veritas to the bathroom and, after making sure he's no longer feeling sick, bathe him and dress him in comfortable clothes.

As you get ready for bed, he asks you if his existence matters. If all his hard work matters. Suddenly, he felt like throwing up again, not because of the alcohol but because of the amount of coffee he drank while working tirelessly for hours and hours on end.

Gently, you caress his face and tell him "Even if an Aeon or the Genius Society won't gaze upon you with favor, I'll always know that you work harder than anyone else, Veritas. You're someone who refuses to let anyone deter you from your goals. You want to see people become the best versions of themselves without relying on geniuses. Everything that makes you you are why I chose you, my love. You're handsome, intelligent, and hard-working, no doubt you'll achieve your goals, no matter how impossible they may seem. You're more precious to me than any crystal and gemstone in the universe. "

Though your little speech was short, it, along with your smile, made Veritas' eyes fill with tears of joy and his heart swell with love. You were really too good for him. Of course, just to save face, he decides to tease you a bit.

"For your information, crystals and gemstones are completely different things. Gemstones are crude and rare pieces of minerals, organic matter, and rock stones that are excavated, cut, and polished to perfection for use in jewelry production. In contrast, crystals are pure substances composed of atoms, molecules, or ions arranged in three-dimensional lattices." He says without fail and a barely concealed smirk.

"Hey! I was comforting you, Mister!" You say, playfully smacking him while pouting.

It then turns into you two playfully insulting each other before your insults turn to joyous laughter. As you lay in the comfort of each other's arms, Veritas felt like he had the best sleep in his entire life.

INSECURE DR. RATIO IS SOOOO IMPORTANT TO ME ANON, but the man HIDES it, he HIDES it so well. Because let’s be real. Everyone wonders why a man like him isn’t in the Genius Society. HE wonders why he isn’t in the Genius Society. After all his work, all his achievements…he’s just…not good enough??

But he’d never OPENLY admit he considers himself a failure of sorts. But a few too many drinks and suddenly the true feelings come out.

You know he doesn’t want your pity. But you just speak your mind.

Maybe it makes him feel a little bit better, but, he can’t let you know you have such a strong effect on him so…teasing it is.

Bratty man, I love him.

You know him well enough though. He’s just protecting himself. Be easy on him and…maybe eventually he’ll be able to open up to you completely, no alcohol required.

#drinking #tw drinking #cw drinking #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Dr Ratio #Dr Ratio x reader #Hsr Dr Ratio x reader #honkai star rail Dr Ratio x reader

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betterfettered · 4 months

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Can I please have yandere Natasha who wants to pamper her fem daring? However, her fem darling refuses her affection. (As the one shot story if that's okay).

Hey bby! I tried to include a little tid bit about your OCs too :) (AFAB!reader x AFAB!yandere, cis wlw)(noncon)(drugging)(kidnapping)(gaslighting)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(Please let me know if I am missing a TW)[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Even after you know that Natasha is long gone, it takes you an hour or two before you try to escape. It feels like she has eyes everywhere, like she can detect your every breath , so you move painstakingly slowly to your feet. As soon as you are standing up completely, your head swims and your legs threaten to buckle out from beneath you; you have been sick for a long time, though, so that does not stop you from shuffling over to the locked window and gazing out at the jarring, sunlit thoroughfare beneath you. You know nothing about the tiny people you can see walking around on the ground several stories below you, an odd twist of fate considering that you have lived your entire life beneath their feet as a citizen of the Underworld, so you can only wonder if they would help you if they knew your predicament. You’d never beat against the glass hard enough for anyone to notice, but if they did, would they wave to you and promise to save you? Would they cry themselves seeing your tears?

You don’t even make it to the door. Pain shoots out from most of your leg joints after only a few steps until you collapse to the ground, rolling over onto your side to curl into fetal position and sob. It isn’t that you don’t have the will, as you have never wanted more in your life than to leave this room – your body just won’t move, even to wipe away your tears, even though your heart is pounding at the thought of being found here.

After a few hours, when you’re already in significant pain from staying in the same position for so long, the door swings open and hits the top of your head. You groan, curling into yourself a little, and hear Natasha gasp in horror.

“Oh, heavens. My love, are you okay?” she says, the door locking behind her with a snap. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

None too gently, Natasha slides her arms underneath you and stands, raising you from the ground, then carries you back to the bed. She is exceedingly careful in how she lays you down, making sure that all of your limbs are rested in an ergonomic fashion, even though you feel the way her fingers wander.

“Please, follow my instructions so that we can make sure that you’re not injured.”

One of her hands lies on your face and strokes your cheek, her expression trying to conceal her fear.

“Tell me where you are right now.”

“No.”

“No, you don’t know where you are?”

“No, I won’t do what you ask,” you say, shaking your head and feeling tears burning your eyes. “I want to go home.”

She nods, the smile on her face a little stiff, then brushes your leaking eyes with her thumb.

“I understand,” she says, turning from you to go and fetch the groceries. “I know just the thing to make you feel better. Then I’ll send you back home as you wish.”

You’re so shocked for a second that you feel like your body keeps crying while you are completely still. Did she say you could go home? You can’t believe it – you’ve been trapped in this hotel room for so long that you’ve lost count of the days. Your heart soars at the possibility of talking to your sister again, even thought you hadn’t sought her out before and don’t even know if she’s still alive: your memory of her has been your only solace in this unending nightmare of being “helped” by Natasha, your imaginary manifestation of her being the your sole source of happiness.

Natasha approaches again with syringe in hand, her smile more relaxed now.

“One last bit of medicine to help with your pain before you go,” she says, and then places her hand on your shoulder, running it gently along the skin down to your inner elbow. Once there, she feels around for a second to find your vein.

“One two three, be brave!” she says, and then spears the needle into your arm, thumb pressing its liquid into your vein. “Now, let me get your bag ready and write down some discharge instructions.”

She grabs your chin and tugs you towards her, pressing her lips onto yours snaking her tongue into your mouth and grabbing your hair to pull you closer. You don’t want to waste energy on struggling, so you allow her to invade you like that, clenching your hand to have another sensation to focus on.

“I would be so devastated if something happened to you once you leave, after all,” Natasha coos after pulling away. She flashes you another grin for a second, and then heads to the wardrobe within your room. Once there, she pulls out the bag you’d been carrying when she lured you in, drops it onto the floor, and begins folding up your street clothes to place inside of it.

For a moment, you think the strange sensation bubbling within you is anxiety, and then you gag so hard aloud that it sounds like a cough. Your entire body feels bad, somehow, but you can’t tell what it is because you feel distant from it, panicking and gagging over and over.

“Natasha,” you cry out, unable to lift yourself up from how fast the room is spinning you into dizziness. “Natasha!”

She continues folding your clothing.

“There’s something wrong! Help, please.”

That makes her turn around, her expression curious.

“Something wrong? Like what?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fine then, I’m sure you can take care of it at home with over the counter meds,” she says, turning back to the closet and grabbing your jacket to fold.

“No, I can’t,” you gasp between your retching, starting to sob. “Something’s really wrong. Help me. Please, Nat, I’m begging. I’m…begging, I don’t want to die.”

At this, she turns from her folding work.

“Begging for what?” she asks, smarmy innocence in her tone. All the while she walks towards you.

“For help.”

“Oh, did you need me?”

“Please!”

“Say it.”

“I need you. I need you to help me. I’m really sick.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along, darling,” she says, wrapping her arms around you. You can feel the warmth of her breath fanning along the apples of your cheeks. “You need to be here. Without me, you’d be suffering so much, right?”

You nod.

She relinquishes you, pulls your arms away from where you’d been instinctively protecting your breasts from her, and injects your inner elbow again with a different syringe from her pocket.

After only a few seconds, you feel so much better, your limbs feeling like jello and your mind a little fuzzy, but free of the continuous gagging.

She presses her lips to yours, exhaling in pleasure at their softness, at the way your plush body yields when she gropes and then presses into you. You lie still and let her do what she wants until you feel her hand groping your pussy, squeezing it and running her fingers along it in tandem. When you start to struggle against the stimulation, she bites your lip hard enough that the taste of iron seeps onto your taste buds.

“Let’s start your check up again,” she pants, pulling away. “It’s always best to test someone’s well being with all of your senses. So right now, let me check you with my mouth.”

Your heart sinks, but you don’t want her to inject you with whatever she had before. Letting your eyes press shut, hot tears spilling down to your temples, tears threaten your eyes when she kisses you again. You can’t help but cringe feeling her hands on your tits, massaging them aggressively; at the same time, the way your cheeks heat up feels completely unfamiliar. The sound of a breathy moan escaping from your mouth shocks you – you realize that Natasha pushing your shirt aside and using her tongue to stroke away the pain her fingers pinching your nipples left behind is making your clit a little stiff.

“Stop,” you whine, trying to turn your chest away from her mouth, the arousal building up in the pit of your stomach getting harder to ignore.

“Of course,” Natasha says, kissing either of your tits. “I know what you’re looking for.”

Her hand sliding up from your cunt to the top of your underwear is so quick you don’t notice it happening; how exposed you are only becomes clear when she buries her face in your pussy, sucking and tonguing your clit while her fingers, roughly jammed into you, start to rub up hard against your G-spot.

You open your mouth to ask her to stop, but only hear yourself panting, your hips bucking and squirming against her face. You dig your nails into the crook of your elbow as though that will take out whatever she drugged you with to make you feel like this.

“I don’t want this,” you moan, unable to stop pressing your pussy against her mouth. “What did you do to me? I – agh!”

Your entire body shudders endlessly, strange noises flooding out of your mouth at her unrelenting tongue sliding back and forth against you while you cum over and over. You feel embarrassed at how you’re writhing and yelping like an animal, but she won’t stop until you are trembling and trying to scoot your overstimulated core away from her. At that, she straddles you on the bed, both hands squeezing you all over.

“It makes me so happy when you feel good,” she says. “I just want to ride your cute face. But you must be worn out, so maybe tomorrow.”

Shivering from the disgusting mess between your legs and allowing yourself to cry quietly, you wonder if you should have just coped with the poison instead.

#betty fetty #yandere x reader #female yandere #tw: noncon #tw non con #cw noncon #tw noncon #yandere #yandere smut #wlw smut #natasha x reader #natasha hon #honkai star rail #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr natasha #natasha hsr

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 11 days

Text

Broken Hallelujah

Requested: No

Warnings: Female!Reader (Female genitalia and use of the word girl), Nun!Reader, Succubus!Valeria, fingering, the sapphic yearning of a nun and a succubus. Idk man, it’s actually pretty tame because everytime I thought about this idea my brain went fuzzy.

She was here again.

You could feel it, the fiery lustful stare that bore into your closed eyes. The almost non existent press of her body against yours, like she was floating just above you. You opened your eyes, once more expecting to see the brief flash of black hair and curved horns, hear the flap of leathery wings. But none of that this time, unusual for her. She liked having you know that she was there, a living ghost that haunted your steps. Ice cold fingers trailing down the spokes of your spine, breathe hot like burning coals on the back of your neck as you laced your fingers together and prayed. Prayed for forgiveness from your sins, from the wet and wanton heat that dripped between your thighs, praying for salvation after fucking yourself to the sound of demonic giggles and the feel of ghost-like touches.

Praying for forgiveness for never asking for protection instead. Unable to even think the words, unwilling to think them. Because you knew deep in your heart, in your bones, in your soul.

You didn’t want her gone.

You liked having her around. Liked her touches, her voice, her heat. You liked the little glimpses you could get of her, lingering in your shadow, the silhouette of her fingers entangling with hers. For the first time in a very long time, you felt full. Full of warmth and want and devoid of the pain and loneliness that had often plagued your heart. Those feelings were what drove you towards your faith. The idea that even when scorned by the people around you, there was someone that loved you. Even if just one person that you could never see or feel or hear, someone cared. Cared enough to die for you, take you into their arms some day when your time was up.

But she was none of those things. She was solid, though not always visible. But you knew she was there. You didn’t have to have faith when you knew the facts of her. When she, at times, felt more real than you or the people around you did.

“Mi Sol.” The wind whispered, curling in your ear and sending heat running down your spine. Sinful pleasure unlike anything else.

“Mi Luna.” You whispered back, shuddering when you felt something akin to claws running down your back, the scratch of them burning pleasantly. You couldn’t help but imagine those same nails running over your belly, along your breasts, against your throat. Leaving trails of blood in their wake.

Temptation. As sweet as it was sinful.

You shuddered in the sudden absence of her warmth, a pitiful whine catching in your throat, choking you like the noose the devil wrapped around your throat when he sent his demoness to haunt your shadow.

You forced a breath, fingers shaking when you reached for the veil placed on your nightstand. Black fabric just within reach before it was suddenly thrown across the room, concealed in a corner too dark to be seen by the light of your candle.

“Mi sol.” She growled again, more insistent, and you could feel her breath like fire against the crook of your neck, her plush lips dragging up to wrap around your lobe, wet tongue sliding along your flesh. “Mía. Mía. Mía.”

“Mi Luna.” You whimper, thighs twitching when your nightgown seems to lift all on its own, invisible fingers ghosting along the band of your underwear, the tips dipping under the elastic to trail over the curve of your belly, petting down the soft hairs that lay there.

“What is it you want, Mi Sol?” She asks, sharpened teeth pricking at your skin, sure to draw blood if you moved even slightly. “You have to tell me. You have to say it.”

“I can’t.” Is your weak reply, one that earns you a sharp bite to the meat of your shoulder, forcing a heavy cry from your lips.

“You have to say it, Mi Sol.” She hisses, warm fingers sliding lower, combing through the thick patch of curls between your legs before descending even lower, just barely out of reach of that bundle of nerves at the apex of your sex. “You have to say it or I can’t give you what you want.”

“I can’t.” You try to persist, swiftly punished with a hard pinch to your aching clit that had you crying out with pain, hips jerking forward.

“You can.” She says, and you could practically hear the condescending sneer she must be wearing on her face. “And you will.”

It was the last thing she said before ripping your underwear from you, calloused fingertips immediately zeroing in on your twitching hole, rubbing around it in loose circles, playing with the wetness that laid there while her other hand moved to cup your breast, weighing it in her hand before giving it a firm squeeze that had you shaking.

“So beautiful, Mi Sol.” She hummed, thumbing at your hardened pearl for only a moment before stopping, almost pulling her whole hand away when your whole body twitched and you tried to reach for her invisible fingers. “So beautiful, and all mine to do with as I please.”

The words made you choke, as did the slick fingers she shoved into your mouth, the taste of your own essence staining your tastebuds, pressing down on your tongue under you obediently started to lap at them, arousal making your cheeks warm.

“Beautiful girl. Prettiest thing I’ve ever met in my long life.” Valeria whispered, raking her nails down your breast before pressing her fingers into the divots between your ribs, feeling the reverberation of your rapid heartbeat, the heat of your skin through the cloth. “Gorgeous thing.”

You whimpered, head tilting back to let your moans flow free, thighs twitching and jerking when she pulled her fingers from your mouth to press them against your tight hole, two fingers, too fast and too quickly, the stretch burning without the proper foreplay beforehand.

“Say it.” She huffed, prying her fingers apart inside your slick walls, cool air tickling your insides.

“Mi Luna.” You whine, shaking your head, red hole contracting around her, begging for her to ease up on her harsh attentions.

“Yes, Mi Sol?” She says, an encouraging coo as she closes her fingers again, curling them to stroke at that little spot inside you that had you drooling. A reward, motivation to keep going.

“I want you.” You say, voice breaking on a sob when she growled, fingers going rougher and faster, her other hand clawing at the bodice of your gown desperately. “I-I only want you, Mi Luna. You’re all I need, please please please please-”

Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, rough and uncaring, sweeping you out to the murky sea, leaving you shivering and shaken. Disorienting you so much that you didn’t even notice her putting you on your back or tearing your nightgown off for better access to your body. Only coming to when she crawled above you, no longer invisible. Beautiful and proud, wings outstretched above you, eyes glowing in the dim light. Hunger shining in them, building dread in your belly.

“Did you think we were done?” She chuckled, quirking a brow in disbelief.

Your only response was to gulp, biting down on your already swollen bottom lip.

It would seem you really did make a deal with a devil. Not that you could find it in yourself to regret it.

#cod #call of duty #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #Female!reader

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upon-a-starry-night · 3 months

Text

Number Neighbors Pt. 21

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

You weren’t freaking out. You weren’t. Except maybe you were because your friend decided to leave out one very crucial detail about the party you were accompanying her to.

“You didn’t tell me it was at Avengers Tower!?” You gape as you crane your neck to get a full view of the tower. You’d walked past it a few times before, heck you’d even been in the lobby for a few events they’d done but now you were about to go to an actual floor of the tower. The very tower the Avengers live in?? You were going to pass out…

“Well, it is hosted by Tony Stark” Your head whips towards your coworker and you can’t tell if the feeling that suddenly floods you is nerves or excitement but either way you feel like you’re going to explode. All over this very expensive tower.

“What?” You watch as she pulls a very fancy-looking invitation out of her purse and you’re so tempted to ask how she even got invited but the other part of you is still flabbergasted at the fact that you’re probably going to at one point talk to at least one Avenger.

God what if it’s-

“Did I forget to mention that?” Your friend tilts her head as if it’s a completely inconsequential fact and you immediately turn around to go home

“I can’t do this”

A hand on your wrist stops you as you're pulled back to your companion. Thankfully she pulled you back by your uninjured arm, otherwise, it would’ve hurt like a bitch. You were lucky enough to find some skin color bandages and concealer to hide it for the most part.

“C’mon Y/n, you never hang out with anyone from work! Plus you really need to get out and socialize, you spend too much time smiling at your phone. You can text your girlfriend later!”

She pulls you into the tower and your body follows her on auto-pilot. It’s the second time someone’s referred to Nat as your girlfriend and it makes you wonder just how whipped you must look texting her for other people to automatically assume she’s your partner.

When you focus back in on your surroundings before you can spiral you’re met with the imminent doom of two elevator doors closing in front of you. The two of you are the only ones in the elevator and your panicked face is met with a confused smile.

“What’s up with you?” Your coworker is being an absolute sweetheart considering how not normal your reaction is to this party so you take a few deep breaths and try to calm your racing mind

“I can’t go up there, Natasha Romanoff is up there”

She tilts her head once more and stares at you with an inquisitive look “Are you scared of her?”

Your head is rapidly shaking before you can even get the words out “What? No! Of course not!”

You can’t get your eyes to meet hers though as a blush creeps up to your cheeks. The elevator is silent as it slowly climbs floor by floor and you think she’s just going to drop it when her sudden exclamation makes you flinch

“Oh my God! You have a crush on her don’t you?”

You’re more than a little embarrassed to admit it, your mother was tired of how often you talked about her, and your old friends used to tease you endlessly about your one-sided love. “It’s not like that!”

But… lately, she wasn’t on your mind as often. She always seemed like someone you could project your romantic fantasies onto because you knew there was no way in the world she could ever like you back, but now that you had someone real… “She’s just... she’s just really cool, okay?”

You still admired her and wanted to thank her for saving your life that day but now someone else occupied your heart. It wasn’t going to stop you from blushing around her though, she was endlessly gorgeous.

Your friend's laugh echoes off of the sleek silver metal of the elevator and you scold yourself for always showing your emotions on your face.

“Alright well, I’m sure you can persuade her into an autograph or something, if she’s even here. I heard she doesn’t like to come to these kinds of parties.” Glancing at the floor number she begins fixing her dress “Honestly I would hate them too with how often Stark is having them.” She gives your shoulder a few comforting pats right as the elevator doors ding and you look up and square your shoulders as you mumble under your breath

“I doubt I’ll even meet her…”

The first thing you notice is how large the room is. The tower is huge from the outside but the size of the room is at least two of your apartment and you’re pretty sure there’s still a balcony outside.

It’s as glamorous as the media always says it is at least. Expensive lights hang from the ceiling and LEDs line the walls in various colors that change to the music. It feels like you’re at the most expensive club in New York. In a way, you are.

Halfway across the room is Tony Stark, you hear him before you see him, his loud boisterous laugh bouncing off the walls and attracting the attention of various guests. There’s a small crowd gathered around him and all of them look desperate to get to speak to him. If that were you you’d probably cower under all that attention but he seems to be thriving under it.

Sitting on the couch is the infamous Captain America and his rugged friend The (ex) Winter Soldier. He looks about as uncomfortable as you feel and you mentally raise your glass to him for even showing up.

There’s a gaggle of women around the two and you’re scared to get too close in case they turn you to stone with just a glare.

You turn to your friend to see her surveying the room in the same way and you wonder again how she got the invite and who she was here for.

You know Stark sometimes holds these parties to appeal to the public and from the looks of it it was working.

Still, your anxiety about crowds immediately kicks in and you feel your palms grow sweaty. You were probably going to follow your friend around the whole night but what if she went up to Tony or the other two? The crowds around them were so large. So many bodies, so many sounds, so many flashing lights. The room was already beginning to feel dizzy.

Two hands wake you from your daze, concerned eyes finding yours as you focus in on them

“Y/n? Are you okay?” You’re grateful for your friend's firm grasp grounding you, you hadn't even realized how heavy you were breathing and if she hadn’t pulled you out of it there was a good chance you would have spiraled into a panic attack right there in front of everyone. You’d never leave your house again if something like that happened.

You realize you haven't answered her question and you slowly nod your head and even out your breathing. You were okay. You were safe. This was not a fight for your life the same way it was years ago. You work through the breathing techniques your therapist taught you until your nerves have calmed down and your coworker- kind and patient as ever, is still standing across from you, a comforting smile on her lips.

She could’ve easily left you to go socialize but instead, she stayed to make sure you were okay. You hadn’t told her how you were affected by everything that happened all those years ago but you wondered if she knew anyway. So many people have been in the same situation as you. You tried the support group thing but it just wasn’t for you.

Your companion gives you a reassuring squeeze on your uninjured shoulder and glances over your shoulder, a small smirk hiding in the corner of her mouth.

“I think we need to loosen you up a bit” She nods her head behind you and you spare a glance at the bar across the room. There are a few men sitting at the bar looking expectant and you hesitate but ultimately decide that a drink might make you feel more relaxed.

Your friend seems to realize your agreement as she beams at you and gives you a little thumbs up “It’s an open bar! I’ll be over there if you need me okay?” She gestures over to a group surrounding a man that you recognize as Bruce Banner and you realize just how little you know about the person across from you. Was he her type? Was she just really into science?

Those are the thoughts that float around in your head as you make your way to the bar, trying your best not to bump into anyone for the sake of your mental health and your injury.

When you find a seat at the bar you realize why the men had looked so expectant waiting here. There was no bartender. One of the men sizes you up, eyes traveling from your exposed leg all the way up to your tits and that’s where his gaze ends. When he sees you’ve caught him ogling you he just winks and you shiver. Uncomfortable and not willing to subject yourself to this treatment just for a drink, you make a move to get up right as a certain redhead makes her way behind the bar, and your heart stills.

Oh fuck.

You’re a little afraid that you’ve lost your pulse as she grabs various bottles from the large LED drink wall behind her and begins mixing them in the shaker. You worry you’re no better than the men as you ogle how smooth everything she does is.

Here Natasha Romanoff was, barely even ten feet away from you. The second time you’d seen her in person. You thought she was incredible before but she looked even better without blood splattered on her suit and dripping from her head. She was dressed to the nines in a sleek black dress that looked like it was made of velvet.

When she finally finishes making her drink she pours it into a chilled glass and takes a small sip, smirking as she watches over her glass at all the men staring at her. At first, it seems cocky but with a slight shake of her head, it seemed more like she was internally scoffing at them instead. You didn’t blame her.

You manage to drag your eyes away from her ( you don’t know how because she’s absolutely magnetic) and see all of the men trying to subtly groom themselves in her presence. The smell of so much testosterone makes you scrunch up your nose. Surely they didn’t think they had a chance? They reeked of desperation and cheap perfume. How many of the men inappropriately staring had wives at home? Kids? If anyone in this room had a chance it was-

You. She was staring at you.

Pt.22

A/n: Hate to say it but if you thought this was going to be the ending you would be wrong. Sorry not sorry! ~Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162

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anashins · 5 months

Note

i love the snow in london fic! I didn't see the plot twist coming haha.

Also may i request a jeno-jaehyun-reader love triangle? :)

Pairing: Jeno x Reader x Jaehyun

Genre: angst, romance

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Jeno will always pick up the phone when you call. In every lifetime, in every universe, he will pick up.

A/N: Thanks for liking my story and for requesting! This is based on a real life conversation I had with my summer-situationship lol We are stronger than this, girlies!

“Why are you calling me?’”

“Why are you picking up?”

“I will always pick up when you call,” you heard Jeno say over the phone. “You know that.”

Turning your head against the night sky, you - once again - realized how lucky you actually were. You had a boyfriend of two years who loved you very much, you had moved into your first apartment with him and marriage was in the talks between you.

You should be entirely happy.

But you weren’t.

As you were standing on your balcony at 3 am, you realized that the man who was sleeping peacefully in the bedroom and the man you were calling because you missed him so much weren’t the same person.

“You texted me first a few days ago.” It shouldn’t sound like an accusation, so you quickly added, “And ever since then, I’ve been thinking of you again.”

“Again?” A chuckle followed that made you smile secretly. “Oh honey, you can’t tell me you haven’t been thinking of me at all. I bet you have even kept my pictures in your phone, looking at them every now and then while your boyfriend is sleeping soundly next to you.”

You hated how cocky he sounded. And how right he was. In your secret folder, you had kept all the memories you had made with Jeno in the short period you had been together.

Could you even call it ‘being together’? You had spent a great summer together, having fallen in love so quickly and deeply like never before in your life. You had thought that this was it, that your feelings were finally reciprocated and you got the fairytale-like happy ending you had always dreamed of.

The fairytale had quickly turned into a nightmare the moment he had claimed to love you too, but not wanting to be with you, because he couldn’t see himself being in a relationship, leaving you heartbroken like never before in your life over a man who you had only known for three months.

How come letting go of a situationship was so much harder than letting go of a long term relationship?

“Don’t say that,” you chided.

“I said that because I’m doing that too, you know. Our memories are my most beloved possession.”

His voice was softer now, almost as though he was sharing a secret, and you wondered what his face looked like at this very moment. Somehow, you had a very hard time imagining it. It had been so long.

“And yet, you still haven’t chosen to be with me.” This time, the harshness in your voice was real and there was nothing to conceal about it. “And you still wouldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t be happy with me, you know that.” He sounded consoling, but there was nothing to console. The tears that you caught with your fingertips on your cheek by accident were tears of anger mostly. “I’m happy that you have found someone who can offer you everything you have ever wanted in a relationship, because you deserve all that. I can’t be this person.”

“I know.” Your heart hurt so much again, it was like you got catapulted back in time and experienced the heartbreak of his rejection all over again. “But sometimes, I cannot stop wondering to ask myself ‘what if’… Do you think in another lifetime or in another universe, we are actually happy together?”

“In another lifetime or universe, we would be happy together, I’m sure about that.”

“Yeah.”

In a lifetime or universe that didn’t include his traumatic past and you wanting to fix what couldn’t be fixed. In a lifetime or universe that didn’t include you asking for much and he not being able to even give the bare minimum. In a lifetime or universe where you were both healed and not only happy together, but also individually.

"But in every lifetime and universe, I will pick up when you call."

You took a deep breather, wiped the last tear from your cheek and said, “You can delete my number for good now, Jeno. It’s time to fully let go.”

And Jeno responded willingly, without hesitation, “Okay.”

In the arms of Jaehyun, you had always felt the safest. He was the one for you, you knew that for sure. Even if your mind wandered, your heart never did.

You just wished your feelings were just as stable and didn’t waver as easily, that they wouldn’t doubt you or get confused so easily when your thoughts grew big and toxic. As long as they knew their base though, you assumed you were going to be fine in the end.

You were only a human too, after all.

When you returned to bed and cuddled up to Jaehyun, he directly slung his arms around you and pressed a kiss on your temple.

With a sleepy voice, he asked, “Where were you?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

He pulled you close to him, one arm serving as a pillow for you and the other touching your stomach.

“My friends all say you’re so good for me. You make me feel like I should feel. That you’re the one for me, because your love is true. Is it? Do you think so too?”

It tickled in the nape of your neck when he chuckled. “Every now and then, you still have these doubts?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry. Because no matter how many times you doubt it, I will prove it to you over and over again. In every lifetime and in every universe, I will prove it to you.”

You slid your hand into his one that was close to your stomach, intertwining your fingers. “Yeah, me too.”

Except for the fact that there was one lifetime, one universe in which there was someone else you would have chosen. But you kept it to yourself and settled contently with the thought that a ‘you’ in the other reality with Jeno already existed and was just as happy as the you lying in Jaehyun’s arms now.

But you didn’t delete his number.

In case that in this lifetime and universe, you had to call him.

#jeno #lee jeno #jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #nct x you #nct scenarios #nct imagines #requests

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ficnation · 10 months

Text

Chapter 1: The Comfort She Brings

Series: “She”

Word count: 2,1k+

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Reader; Past! Angel Reyes x Luisa Espina

Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5 episode 7, mayans mc typical warnings

A/n: Gosh, this episode hit me like a fucking truck. I have so many ideas for angsty pieces. This is just the beginning of it. Also this is gonna have a few parts because I just love Angel and lil Maverick.

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐌.𝐂. 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

NEXT CHAPTER

When Angel comes home that night, holding crying Maverick in his arms, he doesn’t expect to see you there. He steps inside, trying not to panic because Luisa still hasn’t called, and he has that feeling in his gut that tells him something terrible has happened. He looks around, his eyes searching for his woman, but the house is oddly quiet and swallowed by darkness.

He walks in further, turning the light on, and that’s when his eyes find you, back leaning against the kitchen counter as you cross your arms over your chest. The expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know. Luisa isn’t coming back. The woman he loved with all his being, the mother of his little son—she’s gone.

You can’t look him in the eyes, focusing instead on the wailing child in his arms. Angel sees straight through you, though. He sees the broken expression on your face that you try to mask so hard, but you’re unsuccessful. You could always keep your feelings concealed away from everyone but him. That’s the difference between you and him, you are good at lying, at hiding stuff, and he sucks at it—he is an open book, far too easy to read.

The man has no idea how to react. His whole world is burning, and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. He feels hopeless to the point it almost turns into numbness. Fate has always kicked his ass. Angel knew it was all too good to last forever.

He lets you take Maverick out of his arms, staring as you sway him in your hold, pecking the top of his little head. He backs you against the counter, taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your face up so that you have no choice but to look at him.

“Where is she,” he asks, his eyes filled with dread. “Please, just tell me where she is.”

You stay silent for a while, still trying to avoid meeting his gaze. You don’t want to say it out loud because you know if you do it—it’s gonna make it real. Angel trails one of his fingers up and down your jaw, and it makes you falter. “I’m so sorry, Angel,” you mumble out.

His heart drops at your words. He doesn’t have to hear anything else. The man stares into your eyes, a flicker of anger crossing his expression but it vanishes just as quickly as it came. He drops his head, eyes closing as he tries to stop the tears from forming.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you repeat like a mantra, and Angel knows he doesn’t have it in him to be mad at you.

“She—” he starts in a choked voice. He still can’t wrap his head around the fact that she’s gone. That she’s not coming back. “She was my whole world…”

You duck under Angel’s arms, stepping away from him. You can’t look at him. You can’t look at him and see the agonizing pain in his eyes.

“We have a son,” he mumbles out, gazing mindlessly at Maverick’s face, swollen from crying all day. You sway him in your arms, shushing him with a gentle voice. It starts setting in. His son doesn’t have a mother anymore. He’s lost her just like Angel has lost his—taken away from him by somebody’s cruel hands.

He’s quick on his feet as he reaches you again and wraps his arms around you. He rests his cheek on Maverick’s head and listens to him breathe. The boy continues to cry into your shoulder, his tiny fists clenching your shirt. “It’s gonna be okay, sweet boy,” he whispers, kissing his head.

You breathe shakily, trying to keep your emotions in check, but it becomes harder and harder with every passing second—with every word leaving Angel’s mouth and with every weep of the little boy in your hold. The pain of losing her makes your heart clench painfully.

Angel knows how much Luisa meant to you, how much she’s done to keep you safe. She saved your life and helped you escape the people that were after you. She was your family. But now she’s gone, and you can’t do anything to bring her back—you can’t do anything to go back in time and prevent it all from happening.

“It’s my fault.” You can’t keep it in any longer, and the sobs wreck through your whole body. One of your hands reaches out to grasp the back of your friend’s shirt as you rest your forehead against his chest, letting tears spill out your eyes. Maverick cries louder.

“No.” Angel’s voice is soft but stern as he pulls back. He cradles your face in his palms, making you look at him. “I know you’re not the one to blame. It’s not your fault. It’ll never be your fault.” He kisses your forehead, his thumbs tracing over the spot as if trying to soothe you.

“I could’ve done more. I could’ve gone with her. Maybe she’d still be here then.” You close your eyes at Angel’s touch. You expect it to comfort you, but it doesn’t. Not this time. You only feel more guilty as he looks at your bawling face. You should be the one comforting him, not the opposite.

His thumb traces along your jawline as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “You know that’s not true,” he says solemnly, a somber expression spreading across his face. “She made a choice to protect you. To protect Maverick.” He pauses, taking a shaky breath. “She always made her choices based on what was best. For you and for Maverick. She’s always been like that.” You can hear the pure sadness in his voice.

“No, I know I could’ve helped her. If only I came with her—”

“Cariño, you can’t think that. Maybe you could have gone with her, but if you had, the ending for you may have been the same. This was her choice and we have to respect it.”

You can feel his heart beating rapidly as he tries to imagine how it all went down. His eyes fill with tears, he wants to be strong for you and Maverick, but he can’t bear it. He needs someone to ease the pain.

“We need to stay strong,” you mumble out finally as if reading his thoughts. “For this little guy.” You kiss the baby’s salty cheek, stepping out of Angel’s grasp. You don’t want to mourn in front of Angel; he needs your support just as much as you need his.

Your words snap him out of his trance of despair. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

You let out a deep breath, focusing on the child in your arms. “What’s happening, little boy?” You sway him in your arms, walking up to his crib and placing him inside on the freshly cleaned mattress.

“I think he’s sick.” Angel explains, following your retreating figure with his gaze.

“Poor baby. Does he have a fever?” you ask, worried, gently pressing your palm against his forehead. It’s a little warmer than it should be, but nothing to be concerned about.

You look over your shoulder at Angel, noticing the bag of medicine that he brought inside when he came home. You walk over and look inside the plastic at the set of different boxes. You choose one of them and open it to find out what’s it for and how to dose it.

“I— I don’t know how much to give him and which one will work. I have no fucking idea,” he says, shrugging his arms hopelessly.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” You take out the little measuring cup from inside the box and pour the medicine, checking if it’s the correct dosage for his age and weight. “We’ll give him some of this. It should do the trick. Soothe his belly.”

The man steps closer and places his hand on your back, rubbing it up and down in a comforting way. “You know what you're doing?” he asks just to be sure, but all his concerns disappear when you respond with a low hum.

Angel observes as you walk back to the crib and help Maverick drink it. Your confidence makes him think you’ve done it a thousand times before. He wants to ask about it, but he doesn’t, choosing to wordlessly accept your help for now.

The infant lets you place the edge of the cup against his lips, grimacing at the unpleasant taste. He responds with a sob, trying to stand up, but you hold him back and gently lay him down on the mattress. You know he’s tired; he needs rest after spending the whole day awake with a hurting stomach. When he wakes up, he should be feeling a lot better.

After a few minutes of caressing his head, the baby closes his eyes. You continue delicately running your fingers through his soft short hair, waiting until he’s fallen asleep before you step back.

Finally, the house is quiet. All you can hear is the gentle sounds of the outside world, the birds, the wind, and the occasional cars going by.

You rinse the cup and put it back inside the box, sighing. “Are you gonna be alright?” you ask Angel, looking at him expectantly.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, meeting your eyes. “Maverick needs me. And I need him.”

He moves closer until his forehead touches yours. You can feel his racing heart and the shakiness of his breath. He reaches out, rubbing over the spot on your cheek where the tears had stained it. His thumb draws a line down your face, wiping away the salty streaks.

“Angel, you need to grieve,” you tell him as you notice his eyes wandering toward your lips. You push him away gently. “But not this way.”

He stops in his tracks. You can see the hurt on his face. That’s the thing you’ve feared, hurting him. The last thing you want is to cause him any more pain than he already feels, but you know it’s for the better. You’d both be filled with regret come tomorrow morning. Pushing him away was the right thing to do.

“I’m sorry... I’m just—” he catches himself before finishing. He leans his back against the counter near you, sighing. For a moment, Angel doesn’t say anything, lost in thought.

“You’re right. I need to grieve,” he finally agrees with your words. “But I’m so fucking scared.”

“I can stay here if you need me to. But I’m not going to…” you trail off, but he already knows what you mean. “I can’t. We can’t do this.”

Angel takes a deep breath. It’s as if the words you’ve just spoken make him realize just what he’s been thinking about. The thing he thinks will make it all better.

“No... you’re right,” he says. “It wouldn’t be fair.” The man takes a step closer, kneeling down in front of you, taking your hands in his. He hears your breath hitch in your throat as he rubs over your knuckles gently, looking at your hands. The ones that have grasped his shirt tightly as you mourned the loss of your dearest friend—the woman he loved so much.

You lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, staying there for a minute, unmoving, before you pull away. “You should get some sleep.”

“Can I hold you for a minute?” he asks softly, but his voice is begging. You’ve already said no to his advances tonight, but he knows that’s all it’ll be. Just one hug—a comforting touch of another human being.

“I just want to hold you,” he whispers.

You think about it for a moment before you nod in agreement. You have no heart to refuse him that. You pull Angel up to his feet and walk him to the bed. The bed he once shared with Luisa. The thought of it makes your heart break even more, but you don’t let it show.

“Hop in then.”

Angel smiles at you slightly, his eyes full of sadness, but his face lightens by your compassion. He climbs into bed, wrapping his arms around you as you lay down beside him.

“Thank you.” You feel his warmth, heat radiating off his body as he holds you tight. “For being here.”

“Whatever you need, Angel. We’ll figure it out,” you reassure him and yourself, meeting his gaze.

You feel his arms pull you closer, so close that your heads are resting next to each other on the pillow. You can hear his breath slow down as he closes his eyes, trying to find the sleep he so desperately needs.

“I know…” he murmurs against your cheek.

#angel reyes x reader #Mayans MC #mayans m.c.#mayans mc x reader #angel reyes imagines #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x female reader #the comfort she brings #mayans x reader #mayans m.c. x reader #x reader #angel reyes x you

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strawberrystepmom · 6 months

Text

yuji x f!reader 🩷 reader has defined characteristics and a defined ct, yuji and reader are both students (reader is a second year), a certain meddling sensei who may or may not be named shmendy can’t mind her business. 3.5k of hurt/comfort fluff.

divider by @/cafekitsune!!!!

“Hey Yuji?”

The voice of the second year sensei accompanies a knock at his door frame and he slides the shoji open, smiling at the sight of the woman standing outside of his door. He thinks he already knows what you’re here about but avoids giving away too much of his concern, tipping his head and leaning against the wood.

“What’s up?”

She smiles at him and pats his shoulder reassuringly but her face falls quickly, arms folding over her chest. The tension in the air is unspoken but they both know what the concern is - you. You’ve distanced yourself from the small network of support you have amongst your peers and instructors and now comes the real challenge.

How do they get you back?

“Have you talked to ___ lately?”

He shakes his head and she doesn’t fail to notice the way that sadness seeps into every little dimple and crease on his face, remembering all too well how it felt to be in his position when she was a student herself, caring so deeply but unsure of how to show it thanks to the awkwardness of youth. She’s been in both of your positions before, the one caring and the one hurting, and she hopes that age has granted her the wisdom to find the perfect balance of them both.

“No, I haven’t. She won’t respond to my messages.”

The second year sensei nods and smiles sadly, digging her phone out of her pocket and pushing a few buttons while Yuji watches and wonders what’s happening. Her thumbs move quickly and her brow furrows and she looks up with a half smile.

“You know what Gojo-sensei used to do for me when I was struggling?” The young man shakes his head but notices the faint dusting of pink across her cheeks even mentioning his sensei. Love spreads like wildfire around here, he thinks, and it’s beautiful to witness but it’s painful when you find yourself falling victim to a beautiful girl with big round eyes and cheeks and smile so bright it could bring the sun to her knees when she blesses him with it.

All he can think about is you. His heart threatens to burst constantly, to overflow like a leaky dam and cause a flood of affection, but he swallows it the best that he can. Right now his main concern is making sure that you are okay above all, well enough to keep going through the difficult days that come and go.

Despite how jumbled his thoughts are and how heavy his heart is thinking about you, he shifts his attention back to the woman standing across from him and keeps his temple pressed against the door frame. Maybe she’ll have the answers on how to help you, or at least ease your pain a little bit.

“He used to make me leave campus. Sometimes he’d lie and make up a mission, sometimes he’d just drag me along with him and I’d wordlessly follow along with whatever he cooked up but it always helped.” She looks faraway, as if it’s painful to put herself back in those shoes she got rid of many years ago. The two of you are so similar she understands how you’re feeling but doesn’t want to risk being pushy or over the top so she plays it cool and shrugs what she’s saying off. “It always made me smile.”

Yuji nods, able to read between the lines immediately. She looks down at her phone and conceals a half smile, pressing the device against her mouth.

“The three of us are going on a mission today.” Yuji raises his eyebrows in surprise but realization dawns quickly and he nods, understanding what she’s saying. She pulls her phone away from her face and slips it into her pocket. “We are going to Tsukiji to patrol for a potential grade three curse spotted around the food stalls, understood?”

Yuji is not the tough sell on leaving today but she leaves him with a pat on the back and shoves him into his room, sliding the door shut behind him before walking down the corridor to your room, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door in the same fashion.

“What?”

She laughs and you perk up slightly at her voice, sticking your head up from where it was resting on your desk with your notebook opened in front of you. It probably doesn’t serve you to sit here and stare at your dark menagerie yet you do, glancing at their faces and their hands and their half shaped forms until you fear you’re the one turning into something terrifying.

“We have been called on a mission. Me, you, and Yuji.”

A gut feeling tells you that she’s planning something yet you stand, slippered feet sliding toward the door. You slide the shoji open and attempt a scowl despite the smiling and hopeful face at your door, her head tipped to the side as it always is.

“Hi sunshine,” she teases and you groan, rolling your eyes and moving to shut the door again. She puts her hand on the frame and shakes her head, holding it open. “Nope. I’m flexing my muscles as your sensei today and your attendance is mandatory.”

She has been allowing you to tune into classroom days via your computer, perhaps a little too indulgent of this current stormy mood in her quest to be as accommodating and understanding as possible, but it appears the extension of her grace ends today with a wave of her manicured fingers. You blink at her incredulously and sigh, preparing to argue but she stops you with a shake of her head.

“We’re meeting in the common room at 10.”

You think back to what time it was when you remember checking the time last and it was just approaching 8:30. Your sensei digs her phone out of her pocket again and the screen lights up, showing you both that the hour has ticked to 8:45 without much happening between. You sigh again, slumping where you stand, trying to think of a way you can fake a stomach ache or a migraine or anything.

“Go, get ready. It’s gonna be fine.”

Easy for her to say considering she isn’t going to be forced to sit in the back of a cramped car with her crush for the entire ride to wherever she’s decided you’re going and you roll your eyes, turning on your heel and she slides the door shut behind you. You groan as soon as it settles in the frame and you hear footsteps retreating, walking to your closet to pull the uniform you haven’t worn since the last time you went to class a week ago.

“Damn it,” you mutter, pulling down your shirt and jacket and inspecting them for wrinkles. Why do you even care? It’s not like you want to impress anyone, yet you smooth a pleat out of the front of your skirt before tossing it over your arm along with the rest of your clothing and heading toward the showers, Yuji popping his head out of his room to catch your attention along the way.

“Hey!”

He beams at you and you find it hard to deny him a smile in return, giving him something small and noncommittal. He’ll remember it forever despite how carelessly you tossed it in his direction, the little curve in your cheek and of your lower lip, but he tries to play it cool by rubbing the back of his neck. You don’t stop walking, pushing forward to get ready to meet this looming ridiculous deadline and before you know it, it’s 9:50 and you are padding across the wooden floors on socked feet and into the common room where Yuji and your sensei wait with twin smiles.

“Ready to go?” Your sensei asks and you nod, standing on her side and opposite Yuji who keeps looking down to steal glances at you. You don’t meet his eyes but you can tell what he’s searching for, confirmation that you’re okay, and you aren’t ready to give it to him just yet.

It feels overwhelming to be out of your room and into the world, an autumn day that hasn’t quite turned into winter yet greeting you outside of the doors of the building that houses all the student dorms, and your sensei pulls her jacket around her body and shivers despite the sun burning above. It’s a beautiful day, just chilly, and Yuji finally speaks as your sensei takes her distance ahead of the pair of you, stepping quickly in the direction of where Nitta stands, twirling her keys around her finger.

“I’m happy to see you,” he admits and it makes you look away. How can he be so kind no matter how cold of a shoulder you shove in his direction?

“I don’t know why you would be.”

He laughs despite the distinct lack of humor in your words and you watch your sensei appear further and further away, conversing casually with Nitta while awaiting the two of you who seem to be walking in slow motion compared to her own quick steps.

“Well, I am. I feel so much better when you’re around, nobody else gets my jokes.”

Again, you aren’t sure why anyone would say that about you but it makes you feel warm nevertheless, cheeks heating and your eyes rapidly searching for anything to focus on besides the pink haired young man next to you. If you look at him for too long you’ll start to soften, to thaw out and let him in, and that’s the last thing you want.

Your sensei glances over her shoulder and swings her arm, motioning for the two of you to hurry up, and you make a face at her that she can see even from a distance. She feigns shock, just like Gojo-sensei would, and you roll your eyes, daring to let a little smile show itself on your face. Yuji catches it and smiles with great affection written all over his face, increasing the pace of his steps but still stopping to wait for you periodically.

He’s so effortlessly sweet it should make you angry yet you feel yourself soften further, arriving to where the two women awaiting your arrival stand. Your sensei stares at her phone before dropping it into her pocket and Nitta pops her gum, continuing to twirl her keys like an insubordinate teenager. Sometimes it’s hard to tell who is in charge and who is following around here and you shake your head at the sorry sight of the two of them.

“So here’s the plan,” your sensei starts, hands waving around. “We’re going to Tsukiji to check out reports of a spirit lingering around food stalls. Nitta-san and I will handle the food stalls, the two of you are going to be checking the perimeter around Hamarikyu to see if you see anything suspicious.”

You wish that the unmitigated gall of the woman standing in front of you were less obvious but she doesn’t turn to look at you. She knows you’ve caught onto what she’s trying to do and that you’ll only make her suffer with a cool glance if she shifts her gaze your direction so she continues, opening the passenger side car door.

“Let’s go kids! We have curses to catch.”

The two of you walk toward the car and Yuji doesn’t linger by your side this time, opting instead to walk ahead and open the door on the rear passenger side for you with an easy going smile. You have a snide comment about being able to handle it on the tip of your tongue but you press your tongue to the roof of your mouth and smile gratefully instead, sliding onto the seat and letting him close the door behind you.

In a moment, he slides in next to you and your skirt and tight covered thigh presses against his uniform plant clad one and your face heats up again. You wish you’d stop having this reaction to him, that you were less susceptible to how being close to him makes you feel, but you're not and no amount of wishing is going to change it. You just have to continue to steel yourself to his charm.

How hard could it possibly be?

The vehicle takes off, a little digital voice sounding through the speakers giving directions while Nitta and your sensei talk amongst themselves about happenings around the city and with the other sorcerers. Gojo and Kusakabe are arguing again although your sensei insists it isn’t over the crush each of the men has on her, Nitta talks about her brother in Kyoto and that they’re holding yet another potential round of try outs to find Maki and Mai’s cousin Naoya a wife. The happenings are treated as little more than petty gossip but Yuji tips his head, overhearing them talk about the situation with the Zen’in clan.

“They’re…auditioning women to be his wife?”

He can hardly hide how this concept puzzles him, clearly foreign to the way clan politics work, and your sensei turns in her seat with a little smirk on her face that tells you she’s been buzzing to discuss this in particular with someone. You laugh despite yourself, familiar with the face she makes every time Maki or Nobara are sharing their gossip with her, and settle in your seat and let your thigh drift a little further toward Yuji’s. Your knees almost completely touch and he chokes on his saliva, playing it off with a cough.

“They have to because he’s absolutely horrible,” she starts before laughing and widening her eyes. “Years and years ago I went to one at the recommendation of the higher ups, right when I turned 18, and they’re still looking so that tells you how it’s going.”

It strikes you as odd that there are parts of your sensei’s life that you aren’t privy to given how eager she is to share every other detail including what she is eating for lunch and what shade her highlights are, but you tilt your head curiously, arching a brow.

“I won’t tell you what was said to me while I was there because I don’t want to taint little ears but know that it was as hostile as anything I’ve ever been told.

You make a note to ask Maki if she knows about this and hum, pocketing this information for later, and roll your eyes over the little ears comment. The two of you, you and Yuji, are nearly full blown adults despite her annoying insistence that the two of you are children at the end of the day every time you get reprimanded. She isn’t doing a very good job of preparing you for impending adulthood, humming while pointing out random landmarks across the highway, childlike chatter filling the car between her and Nitta and Yuji and….you.

“What do you think?”

Lost in your own thoughts you abandoned the discussion you were just listening to completely, glancing at the floorboards under your feet. Looking up and to your right, Yuji smiles.

“About what?”

Your sensei scoffs and you scoff back when she turns in her seat again to glance at you with a frown.

“Were you even listening to me?”

You shake your head and she scoffs but follows it with a smile, scrunching her nose. The car pulls off of a highway exit and a short distance away comes to a stop, Nitta expertly parking and shutting off the engine, ready to let you out at the food stalls.

“Well, you won’t have to for much longer because we’re here. I’m gonna be here and she’s going to take you to the gardens but we will meet back here no later than 3, do you understand?”

Yuji nods and you do as well, satisfying your nosy sensei who smiles and yells over her shoulder as she exits the vehicle.

“Call me if you need anything!

Shutting the door behind her, you both breathe a strange sigh of relief but feel your breath catch again realizing you’re all but practically alone despite Nitta’s presence. The gardens aren’t far from where she parked and in a flash, the two of you are being let out on the sidewalk and wishing her goodbye with a wave. The day is hers to do what she wants pending no danger and despite the claims that there may be a cursed spirit or two lingering in this area, you’re certain that the same is true for the two of you.

“Alright, if I were a cursed spirit, where would I hide?”

You wonder if Yuji has noticed that the two of you have been set up yet, given how his pretty golden eyes scan the area around the park and his mouth moves with each sight his eyes dance over, fall foliage decorating even the furthest corner of the little slice of paradise with red and yellow.

“Probably nowhere in this place,” you mutter and he laughs, taking small steps to keep the two of you moving to protect yourselves from the November chill. The gardens are vast and you feel a little overwhelmed by it all, especially given how you’ve felt recently.

Despite this, though, the sun shines and the leaves rustle every time the wind blows, reminding you how it feels to be alive. Walking in lockstep with Yuji, watching his eyes widen and his fingers point wildly at whatever he sees, reminds you of that further.

It’s good to be here and to face this day, to stretch your limbs and your mind, to feast your eyes with foliage and ducks floating effortlessly across the taut and glass-like surface of the pond you are taking the wooden bridge across, slowly, step by step.

“Do you think there’s actually a curse here?” Yuji asks and you laugh with your heart for the first time in a while, letting your hands dangle at your sides and your knuckles brush against his.

“No. There is almost certainly not a curse here.”

“Damn.”

Despite yourself, you laugh again and he joins you, beaming down at you like your own personal font of happiness.

“Well, since we have time to waste, wanna go to the tea ceremony?

You weren’t expecting him to ask but you nod just the same, unable to form words with how swollen and full of love your heart feels, gazing at the building that houses the informal ceremony close to where the two of you step off of the bridge. He nods excitedly, leading the way, and you stop him by clearing your throat.

“Hey Yuji?”

He tips his head and smiles at you curiously.

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and look away from him, glorious reprieve despite the way your heart pounds in your chest, and feel the need to be honest. To thaw a little further under the autumn sun, to let him in.

“Thank you for being here for me.”

A blush as pink as his hair spreads across the bridge of his nose and you smile to yourself, satisfied with the reaction.

#yuji itadori x reader #itadori yuji x reader #kendall writes #written 4 my beloved mimi

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happy-beeeps · 5 months

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Day 3: Gloves

Summary: Din offers the reader his gloves, and their first look at his skin.

Warnings: none, language, briefest mention of past abuse

WC: 1k!

It’s easy to forget how cold space is. In the past few months you’ve been on the Crest, between the baby and the roaring, industrial sized heater, it’s been toasty, almost warm. You’d almost forgotten it could be cold. Until, of course, the ancient industrial sized heater broke.

It wasn’t too bad at first. Mando was quick to find any spare blankets he had on the ship and pass them between you and the baby, hoping to create any semblance of warmth. Then the baby himself helped, as you attempted to rock him to sleep for hours, the green little guy getting fussy from the cold. Now, with the kid settled into his pram and the lack of body heat on your hands, you’ve done it. You’ve remembered how cold space is.

You’re doing ok. You’ve seated yourself on the co-pilot’s chair, knees pulled up to your chest and your hands wrapped underneath your clothes, tucked under your armpits. Your face is half obscured under the neck of your sweater, and you’re attempting to creative some kind of insulation by just continuously blowing your breath against your skin. You haven’t decided if you can die from carbon monoxide poison this way but, fuck it, you’re too cold to care.

Your hands, that’s the issue right now. You hesitate to say agony but—let’s be real, it’s agony. You’ve been frostbitten before, so now your fingers and joints of your hands are aching under the pain of the chill in the ship, and no matter how hard you press your hands to your skin, there’s no relief.

“What are you doing?”

It’s Mando’s—Din’s, as you’ve just recently learned, voice that breaks you from your disassociation, offering the briefest respite from the pain. He’s asking you in a tone that’s equal parts concern, confusion, and jest. Over the past few months you’ve learned it’s his feeble attempt at teasing.

“Trying to warm up, not all of us come with an insulation system,” you poke back, and he settles beside you in his chair, his helmet sending that searing gaze towards you. You shrink into yourself even more beneath it, somehow feeling both intimated and bewitched by it.

Ok, bewitched is just a better word for saying you’ve got a massive-fucking-crush on the guy, but that’s beside the point.

“What’s wrong with your hands?”

“Nothing, what gave you that impression?”

He cocks his head to the side in a way you’ve begub to translate as “really?”

“Just something from when I was younger, it’s nothing.”

He pauses for a moment, then extends his own hand in one of the rare few moments of touch he’s offered. “Let me see.”

You’re in hell. If there is a maker, they’re being cruel. Do you remove your hands from the tiny bit of warmth you have, or reject Din in a rare moment of vulnerability?

The choice is immediate, and you rip your hands from their confine and tentatively place them in his.

They don’t look bad, an angry red at the joints and the cold has made you curl them inwards, but they aren’t blackened or cracked like some of the frostbite you’ve seen. He must notice the difference, and moves to gently trace the joint of one of your fingers. His words are slow, deliberate, “How did this happen to you?”

You melt into his touch, “locked out of my house during a snowstorm a while back, he was an asshole.”

Din tenses at that, just barely noticeable, and pauses his trace. You worry you’ve offended him, and he removes his hands, only to slowly, carefully remove the leather gloves you’ve always seen on his hands. “Here, you take ‘em.”

“Din, please, I can’t, I’ll be fine.”

“I want you to wear them.”

It’s the only encouragement you need, and you pulll them on quickly. You try to conceal how rapidly your heart is beating as you peak at the newly exposed skin of his hands.

He’s tan, tanner than you’d thought, with skin that looks warm and inviting. Calluses dot the underside of his palms, and he brings his fingers together, wringing them slowly. It dawns on you that you’re not sure if anyone has ever even seen his hands.

“How are your hands not always sweating?”

Nice. Real smooth. He’s gonna love that.

“Maybe that’s why I always keep them on.”

“Are we doing humor now?”

“Depends, how am I doing at it?”

You laugh, and so does he, and you decide you’d quite like to hear that sound forever. You stretch your fingers, warming nicely in the suede of Din’s giant gloves.

“Thank you, for these, I needed it.”

“Don’t mention it.” He unwinds his hands, laying them on his knees as he turns his attention back to you.

You’re not sure if you’re high on knowing that you’re wearing Din’s clothes, or the ecstasy of finally having feeling in your fingers, but your hand is quickly going to poke at his, your fingers dotting the smooth contours of his own.

You half expect him to pull back, but he doesn’t, letting you play with his fingers and trace his skin. It seems easy with the barrier of fabric between you. You ignore the fact that your stomach is churning and your brain is going ohshitohshitohshit.

He’s got a scar along the inside of his wrist, you can only see a bit of it, white and gnarled. You reach out to trace it, careful not to go beyond the skin that’s already exposed.

“When I was just learning to use my flamethrower, things got a little…dicey.”

The image of a young Din accidentally torching himself makes you smile, but it’s quickly dimmed by the realization that the man beside is literally wearing clothes that kill people. You flex your hand in his glove and realize, I guess you are too.

“Do you feel better?”

You’re rocketed back to reality by his voice and you nod, “yes, thank you.”

He stands, but not before tapping the bottom of your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, the skin on skin contact rocketing through you. “Keep em’ till we land, they suit you mesh’la.”

He leaves quietly, leaving you sitting in the cold and silent space, thinking of foreign words with pretty sounds and warm suede around your fingers.

#dincember 2023 #star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djaren #din x reader #din #the mandalorian x reader

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inkpot909 · 4 months

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Little Sister Figure Headcanons: Platonic!Joseph Joestar x Reader

Fem!Reader with she/her pronouns. The Reader’s boss is written to be a jerk.

A/n: It feels great to be writing again! I took a massive break for the holidays, and in order to give myself time adjusting to a new job. Writing this was rather personal to me in a sense, as Joseph very much so reminds me of my own older brother. Hope y’all enjoy. <3

Warning(s): Joseph’s pathetic complicated relationship with women. Canon-typical swearing. Period-typical sexism.

Joseph Joestar… historically does not have a positive reputation amongst women.

It’s well earned; coming off as rude at best and downright insensitive at worst. And this behavior doesn’t exclude women he hardly knows either. In fact, his brash attitude is arguably more on display around strangers.

A whistle to an attractive passerby leading to his foot being stomped on. Talking a little too loudly about how women “doing up their faces is a sort of trap” earning him harsh glances from pretty much every woman within earshot. An older woman smacking him across the face with an umbrella after a murmur about not being surprised at the lack of a ring on her left hand. Making an unfounded claim that women can’t drive well, only to have been questioned, walk back on his claim, and ultimately cultivating in a knee harshly connecting with his stomach. The list only goes on.

For every five women that brush off his comments, there’s always one who isn’t afraid to give him an immediate reality check.

You fell into the latter category upon your first meeting.

“Out of the kindness of his heart,” Joseph helped you out one day when you needed it most. New York City can be a real rough place to live, and on that day, the sins of the city turned their attention to you.

Cornered by some thugs, they demanded anything of value be handed over. It made blood drain from your face, twisting your expression into something that didn’t do much to conceal the fear you had felt.

Regardless of your explicit nervousness, you had attempted to stand your ground. Sticking to your guns, although you wouldn’t ever regret doing so, seemingly only made things worse. The thugs took no time at all roughing you up a bit, to the point where they knocked you down to the concrete ground below you.

Looking back, it seems like a stroke of fate, that Joseph Joestar happened to be walking past at that very moment.

Seemingly without much hesitancy, he jumped to your defense. It was quite the spectacle, if you’re being completely honest. His cocky attitude was only validated by his genuine intuition and strength in the fight that inevitably unfolded. Watching him in combat for the first time is something you doubt you’ll ever forget.

His actions right after the fact is also something you’re likely to never forget:

Sparks seemed to ripple off him; beginning at his fingertips only to move beyond in crackling waves. Watching this stranger move about, picking off the three men that approached you not even ten minutes ago, your quick to understand that the energy illuminating from him is more than just what you can see on the surface.

It’s unbelievable, but there’s little reason to doubt what you’re seeing with your own eyes.

All the while a grin never once disappears from his face. When he initially inserted himself into the conflict, your stomach sank. Sure, he’s quippy, but he gave the impression of a man who’s all bark and no bite.

But by now, you’ve stumbled to your feet. Standing off to the side, your body motionless, eyes widen in subtle recognition that you’d been wrong about him.

It isn’t long before the three thugs desperately scramble away from the scene, tripping over themselves trying to do so. Not wavering one bit, the brunette closely watches them run off. The intensity of his gaze was jarring compared to his goofy and outlandish behavior. And you only find yourself relaxing after he finally relaxed.

Taking a step closer to him, you lift a brow when he doesn’t at all turn to look at you. Pausing, you once again plant your feet in the position they’re in.

Despite his almost insultingly unserious demeanor during the fight, you can’t not say something to him. Even if all that leaves your mouth is a simple “thank you,” it’s not within your own morality to just ignore or disregard the actions of someone who just saved your skin.

“Uhm…” you clear your throat. The action finally prompts him to whirl around in your direction, his eyes blinking a couple times displaying dumb recognition. You continue on to tell him, “Thank you a lot. You didn’t have to do that, but you still chose to get involved anyway. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t showed up.”

You felt internally glad that, albeit briefly, you were able to voice your appreciation for his help.

He blinks some more, before bringing up a hand to the side of his face. “Wow! You look terrible!” he blurts, saying it with his entire chest.

“What?” you respond, taken aback.

“Geez, lady, look you you!” he puts his hands on his hips, bending down at the waist. The action, whether he meant to or not, fully emphasizes the size difference between you. In the moment, you certainly felt more than a little patronized. “Did you even style your hair this morning? It looks awful!”

“Of… of course I did, you jerk!” you snap back, clenching your hands into fists and shaking them wildly at him. You were far too surprised to even think of explaining to him that getting hit and shoved doesn’t keep your appearance in pristine condition.

“Whoa, whoa…” he chuckles, taking a step backwards, “What happened to being all grateful?”

“Excuse me!?”

It was a rough first impression, to say the least.

You likely couldn’t stand Joseph Joestar after the initial meeting. Well, if anyone were to ask your opinion of him, that’s what would be your immediate response.

Despite that, his willingness to help a stranger out without even properly looking at them first intrigued you a bit.

Even more so, the fact that his little found family - a kind-hearted grandmother and his fun-loving friend, Smoky -immediately took a liking to you without much hesitation.

It’s those two who you’re likely to get along with first, not quite seeing eye-to-eye with Joseph for a good while.

So what is it exactly that leads to the two of you developing more of a genuine friendship? Fighting him.

No, seriously.

Not long after your brush up with the three thugs, you and Joseph engaged in a conversation about your own strength. He told you (rather bluntly) that “although your fiery, you can’t fight for shit.”

This eventually evolved into the two of you working out together. Then, that naturally progressed into him giving you pointers when in a fight. Then, that progressed into the two of you sparring one another from time to time.

Now, that power he displayed the first time you met (hamon, you remember him calling it), wasn’t something he was willing to teach you. But Joseph was more than happy to help teach you how to hold your own in a fight at the very least.

He went on to say how dangerous New York City can be for a young woman who doesn’t know how to protect herself, but you long learned to stop listening to him when he got in the mood to lecture. And though you certainly didn’t need him to tell you about the dangers of being a woman, you know there’s a certain degree of good will to his intent.

Despite his slightly condescending attitude at the start, this proved to do a lot for your relationship the more you spent time together. He was unafraid to speak his mind, and you were unafraid to call him out. With time, he started to genuinely appreciate that about you.

He went from purely pestering you, to doing so with a much friendlier edge that expressed a deeper understanding of your own sense of humor.

And at the end of the day, after each time he works out with you, he ruffles up the hair on the top of your head and tells you good job- from a surprisingly genuine place.

Considering how your friendship began, no one could really blame you from feeling surprised with its development. And there’s been several times now when Joseph’s truly had your back in a way that really makes you remember his care:

“This is a really stupid idea.”

“Shush! Besides, you think all my ideas are bad ideas.”

“And am I wrong...?”

“Oh- Jesus- would you just shush!?” Joseph hushes you once more, his head snaping over to your direction.

“JoJo,” you frown, eyes darting back and forth between him and the subject of your concern. The two of you are hunched over, peaking over a corner inside the building where you work. It’s early in the morning too. So early, in fact, your boss is the only person besides a janitor or two who’s bound to be in the building for at least another hour. “You know I could be fired for this if he finds out I’m the one behind it. He’s already itching to-“

“Quit your worrying, would you? I’ve got it all figured out! No one blaming you for jack shit- got it?” Joseph cuts you off, tone indicating that you really shouldn’t try pressing the matter further. Turning his attention back forwards, he adds, “Now, will you please zip it!?”

“But surely this is taking it a step too far,” you push it further, “When I told you about my boss-“

“A money-hungry and endlessly rude person,” he quotes your own words exactly.

“-I just needed to vent to someone about it. I wasn’t necessarily asking for petty revenge.”

“Don’t call my hamon traps petty!”

“You use it for petty reasons!”

“Oh? So now helping you is petty!?” Joseph raises his voice a little.

You’re quick to match the tone of his voice, “It’s fine that you want to help me, but I’m having a lot of seconds thoughts about this!”

“Well, that’s clearly obvious…”

“Please...” you groan, “Just... reconsider...”

“It’s too late to reconsider!”

“Well, you-“

A booming voice, coming from just a few feet away from the two of you, cuts off your words, “What the hell is going on over here!?”

Like two dear in headlights, you and Joseph slowly turn your heads over to the hall before you. There, your boss stands with an angry and slightly bewildered expression. Neither you nor Joseph heard his approaching footsteps over the sound of your bickering. And your boss is just moments away from looking close enough to recognize you- meaning your just seconds away from likely losing your job....

Luckily, a few seconds is all a person like Joseph needs to react.

Suddenly, he stands up straight and puts his hands triumphantly on his hips. “I-“ he announces, your boss looking up at him with wide eyes, “-harbor a grudge against this stupid establishment! Starting with-“ he dramatically turns to point at you, “-This young woman!”

Before your boss can react- hell, before you can react -Joseph grabs you by the waist and hoists you over his shoulder as if keeping you hostage. The sound you make when he does so certainly sells it.

This is his idea of having everything figured out!?

Laughing loudly, Joseph rushes past your boss cackling as if he’s trying out for a roll as a cartoonish burglar. As he moves away, he yells out, “Your next line will be, “What in the hell is this!?’”

And as you’ve come to expect, those same words almost immediately left your boss’s mouth.

The lecture that Granny Erina had in store for him after she finally found out about that stunt... oh, it was priceless.

He took the fall completely, even though you tried voicing your own involvement. Yes, you weren’t totally on board in at the end, but you still were a part of the ordeal.

Regardless, Joseph was having none of it.

And that’s exactly how he is with you. Cheekily looking after you in a profoundly brotherly way that after that specific incident, you began to refer to him as such. To your delight, he gladly returns the sentiment.

A part of you is hesitant to admit it, but you really look up to him. He’s taught you much, not just about being a fighter, but on anything that crossed his mind. Everything from his own thought process, to how to “properly” prepare an afternoon snack.

And in return, he’s always at your side and eager to listen to whatever thought crosses your mind.

Looking back, it seems like just as the two of you truly became so close, you were completely blindsided by an entire month of complete radio silence from him. It’s as if he’d just packed up and left... and it really broke your heart.

With more time passing, and one false death report later, Joseph was in for the lecture of a lifetime. He thought he’d gone through the ringer, from his grandmother alone, but nothing beats the frustrated ranting from a younger sister.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“Do you have any idea how worried I was about you!?”

“Next time someone threatens your life send me a telegram! Write me a letter for crying out loud! I would’ve went to Italy straight away to kick their asses myself!”

“Don’t you dare ever leave me out of the loop again- you hear me, Joestar!?”

Joseph’s never going to forget a single word it.

And as frustrated you were, the look on your face when he also admitted to getting married without your knowledge on top of all that... he’s very lucky you love him like family.

#johnny’s work #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #battle tendency #joseph joestar #joseph joestar x reader #platonic reader #fem reader #fluff #sfw #headcanons #fanfiction #manga #anime #smokey brown #erina joestar #drabbles #writing

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parkerslatte · 7 months

Text

Unspoken Words

Matthew Fairchild x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: mentions of substance abuse.

Summary: Matthew surprises Y/N at her flat after his year of travelling. Some unspoken emotions surface.

A/N: this is kind of a au where Matthew never had any sort of relationship with Cordelia except for friendship :)

Shadowhunter Chronicles Masterlist

•••

Y/N knew that she wasn’t expecting anyone. If any of her friends and family were going to pop around, they would send a note beforehand. Y/N was just getting ready for bed when there was a loud knock on her front door. At first she debated even answering it, but after knowing that the nice mundane doorman would never let anyone up to her apartment without knowing them beforehand, she felt the smallest bit safer.

She threw her robe around herself and took the few steps down the hallway from her bedroom to her front door. When she opened it, Y/N froze and stared wide-eyed. Her heart had immediately begun pounding.

“Hello, Y/N,” Matthew said, his beautiful smile stretching across his face.

“Matthew?” Y/N whispered, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Y/N stepped back to allow Matthew into her flat and closed the front door, still trying to process everything. Once she turned back to Matthew she hesitantly reached out and brushed her hand over his arm, trying to deem if he were real or not.

“I can’t tell if it’s really you or not,” Y/N said as she took one more step closer.

“It’s really me,” Matthew said, his voice low and warm.

Y/N trailed her hand up his arm until she reached his shoulder and gripped onto it. “You’re really here.”

“I am,” Matthew said breathlessly.

Y/N smiled and threw her arms around Matthew’s neck and pulled him tightly to her. His own arms wrapped around her waist and pressed her body into his own until there wasn’t a single gap between them.

Y/N’s head buried in the crook of Matthew’s neck as she breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne. She hadn’t realised how much she missed it until now. Her shoulders shook as she tried her best to keep the tears from flowing down her cheeks but failed. All the emotion she had over missing Matthew was all coming out.

Matthew pulled away from their hug and rested his forehead against Y/N’s. “There’s no need to cry.”

“You’re crying too,” Y/N said as she noticed the tears brimming Matthew’s eyes.

He tried to blink his own away but only succeeded in making them fall down his cheeks. Y/N let out a breathy laugh and wiped his tears away, her hands lingering on his cheeks.

“I missed you so much,” Y/N whispered. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I missed you too,” Matthew said. “More than you can imagine.”

“I wished everyday that you would show up on my doorstep, I’ve even dreamed of it a few times,” Y/N admitted. “That’s why I didn’t believe you were really here.”

“I dreamed of you too,” Matthew said. “Nearly every night I was away.”

Y/N closed her eyes and savoured the feeling of Matthew’s arms wrapped around her. It had been just over a year since she had last seen Matthew. They had sent letters to one another over the year but it wasn’t ever nearly enough. Having Matthew with her and hearing his voice was the greatest gift Y/N had ever received.

A loud crash echoed from the flat above Y/N’s and caused the two to jump apart in surprise. Y/N immediately missed the warmth of Matthew’s body. As she now stood opposite him she realised how little she wore. Her night clothes were thin and didn’t do a huge job of concealing her body. Y/N flushed and Matthew tried not to move his gaze away from her face.

“Do you want tea or anything?” Y/N asked, leading Matthew through her flat and to her living room.

The room had a lingering warmth from the fire that had been roaring not too long ago. Despite this, Y/N still felt a chill.

“I’m okay, thank you, Y/N,” Matthew’s response was strangely formal.

Y/N only nodded and took a seat on her couch and beckoned Matthew over. “Tell me about your travels.”

“I’m sure you’ve already heard all about them,” Matthew said, getting comfortable next to Y/N.

“I want to hear about them again,” Y/N said. “I want to hear you tell me, not just read about them.”

“Okay,” Matthew said, settling further down into the couch, his arm brushing Y/N’s as she unconsciously shuffled closer.

When Matthew began talking about his travels, the smile on his face was infectious. It was a smile that, before his travels, Matthew brought out so rarely. A soft smile graced Y/N’s face as she listened to Matthew. His hands flapped about as he spoke and she wanted to reach forward and intertwine her fingers with his.

It was no secret to anyone else that Y/N loved Matthew dearly. Before he left, even she hadn’t known exactly what she felt for the blonde Fairchild. She had only ever thought that her relationship with him was a close friendship. It wasn’t until he left for his travels where she realised that the ache in her chest wasn’t because her friend had left. It was because the person she loved had left.

For weeks, Y/N didn’t leave her flat much, only to buy food or gather her post. She was happy for Matthew. Happy that he was doing something he had always wanted to do. The only thing she wished was that she had realised her feelings for the Fairchild sooner.

“Are you even listening to me?” Matthew teased as he noticed Y/N’s faraway expression.

“Of course I am!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Then what did I just say?”

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed trying to respond but she couldn’t because she truly didn’t know what Matthew said.

“I will listen now, I swear,” Y/N said.

Matthew rolled his eyes and pulled Y/N closer to his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve spoken enough of my travels, tell me about what you did.”

Y/N sighed and wrapped her arms around Matthew’s torso and rested her head on his chest. “You don’t want to hear about what I did. It’s rather boring.”

“Nothing you do is boring,” Matthew said, his arm moving from her shoulders to rest on the dip of her waist.

Y/N felt the heat of his hand through her thin nightgown and robe. She wasn’t entirely sure that Matthew even realised that he had moved his arm, but Y/N didn’t say anything about it.

“Honestly Matthew,” Y/N said. “I haven’t really done much.”

“Liar,” Matthew whispered against her hair.

Y/N sighed. “I did a little travelling of my own, not to your scale though. I just did a small tour around England, Scotland and Wales for a few months, nothing too grand.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Matthew asked.

Y/N nodded. “I did, it felt…freeing.” Y/N traced the pattern on Matthew’s waistcoat with her finger. “I do like London but being away for a bit made me realise how little I’ve actually done with my life.”

“Don’t say that,” Matthew said. “You’ve done a lot with your life.”

“But only to the confines of London,” Y/N said. “When I travelled, it was the first time I’d ever seen the sea and felt sand between my toes.”

“Where was your favourite place to go?”

“Cornwall,” Y/N answered. “I spent a week there, the longest I spent anywhere. I stayed in a small village and everyone knew each other. It was nice to now worry about anything and just live in the moment. Is that how you felt?”

Matthew smiled. “That is how I felt.”

“It was a good feeling,” Y/N said.

The two fell into a comfortable silence. Y/N still lightly traced the patterns on Matthew’s waistcoat while he toyed with the ends of her hair. Y/N felt her heart begin to beat rapidly as Matthew’s hand moved from the dip of her waist to her hip. Still he didn’t seem to notice.

Y/N tilted her head up to look at Matthew, his eyebrows were furrowed as if he was in deep thought. However once he noticed Y/N’s changed in position his gaze shifted to meet hers.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” he replied.

The two only looked at one another, no words exchanged. Their faces so close that Y/N could feel his breath lightly fan her face and she had no doubt that Matthew could feel hers.

A shiver made its way through her body and she pressed herself closer to Matthew, wanting his warmth. The hand that had been simply resting on his lap was now rubbing her upper arm lightly trying to give Y/N as much warmth as possible.

The places Matthew touched felt like they were on fire despite the plunging temperature. His touch sent her alight.

Y/N’s hand moved from where it was rested on his chest to his cheek, her thumb lightly brushing across his cheekbone. Matthew watched her movements carefully.

“Did you meet anyone while travelling?” Y/N asked the question before she could even think about the repercussions.

Matthew froze as did Y/N.

“I didn’t mean to ask that,” Y/N said, wide-eyed and began to pull away from Matthew. “That was completely out of line. I’m so sorry-”

“Y/N,” Matthew said. He didn’t sound angry.

Y/N stopped and looked at Matthew. She was beyond embarrassed. Even if he did meet anyone, it was none of her business. Matthew was his own person and could make his own choices. And just because she loved him, doesn’t mean that he loved her back.

As Y/N began to pull even further away from him, Matthew lightly grasped her and pulled her closer to him until they were in the same position as before.

“Ask me again?” Matthew said.

“What?” Y/N questioned, even though she knew exactly what Matthew wanted her to ask.

“The question,” Matthew said. “Ask me again?”

“Did you meet anyone?” She asked.

There was a pause while Matthew let out a breath. “No, I didn’t.”

Y/N felt bad that she felt the smallest bit relieved at his answer.

“Did you meet anyone?”

The question caught Y/N off guard. “Sorry?”

“Did you meet anyone?” Matthew repeated.

“No,” Y/N answered. “No, I didn’t.”

Matthew only nodded as he didn’t meet her gaze. His eyes were fixated on where his hand grasped hers.

Y/N now felt hot. Before she was cold but now she was burning everywhere and wanted to escape the conversation. The once comfortable atmosphere had changed to one of uncertainty. Y/N didn’t like the change.

“Why did you ask me that question?” Matthew asked, his gaze still purposefully avoiding hers.

“I-I don’t know,” Y/N said.

“You do know,” Matthew said.

Y/N sighed and looked at where their hands were joined, the cool metal of his rings pressed against her skin. The words were on the tip of her tongue but she couldn’t bring herself to speak them.

“I asked you that question because…” she trailed off.

“Because what, Y/N?” Matthew’s gaze finally met her’s. “Please tell me.”

“Because I am in love with you.” Y/N’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Despite her nerves, Y/N felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. The words she had always wanted to write to Matthew in her letters were finally spoken. The world grew dark as Y/N closed her eyes, not wanting to meet Matthew’s gaze in fear of what he would say or do. If he pushed her away, Y/N wouldn’t know how she would react.

However, what Matthew did say surprised her.

“You can’t mean that,” Matthew said.

“What?” Y/N said and opened her eyes. “Of course I mean that.”

Matthew shook his head, emotions swimming in his green eyes. “You can’t.”

“Why can’t I?” Y/N said. “I am in love with you Matthew.”

“No,” Matthew said, tears welling in his eyes. He clutched Y/N’s hands tighter.

“I do,” she said, bringing her hands from his and caressed the sides of his face. “I love you.”

Matthew’s eyes bore into hers. They held a look on uncertainty, like he wasn’t entirely sure that anything was real.

“How can you possibly mean that?” Matthew said.

“I do mean it,” Y/N said. “I love you so much that it hurt me so much when you left for your travels. I didn’t realise it before but once you left I realised that what I felt for you was love. Not the type of love you share with any of our friends. I felt it long before but was too oblivious to realise it. I fell in love with you years ago.”

“You loved me even when…” Matthew trailed off, not wanting to speak much of that period in his life.

“Even then,” Y/N said. “I adore you.”

Y/N wiped away the tears from his eyes as Matthew gently held onto her wrists, leaning into her touch.

“If you don’t feel the same, it’s okay,” Y/N said, her voice cracking. “We can just forget about it.”

“I never thought I deserved you,” Matthew said, his voice wavered like any moment he would burst into tears. “I never told you I loved you because I didn’t deserve you.”

Y/N’s heart broke hearing the sadness in Matthew’s voice. “Why didn’t you think you deserved me?”

“I could barely take care of myself, let alone you,” Matthew replied. “There were times when I wanted to tell you, not caring how it would affect our friendship. You were– are the constant thing on my mind. I wake up thinking about you and I fall asleep thinking about you.” Matthew paused to let out a shaky breath. “When I went on my travels, I hoped that I could move past what I felt for you but with every letter I sent you and how you responded with such excitement and telling me how proud you were of me, the more I fell in love with you– even if I was thousands of miles away.”

Y/N let out a breath and pressed her forehead against Matthew’s. “You deserve the world, Matthew. You deserve everything good in it.” Y/N's thumb gently moved across his cheekbone. “I know your life hasn’t been easy. I know you have struggled for years. But you need to know how proud of you I am, how proud everyone is of you. You are always surrounded by people who love you so much. Never forget that.”

Matthew let the tears fall as Y/N wrapped him into a hug. He buried his head into the crook of her neck as his body shook. Y/N clutched onto him tightly.

“I don’t deserve you,” Matthew muttered.

“You do,” Y/N said. “You deserve every good thing.”

Matthew pulled away and took Y/N’s face in his hands. “You are the best thing in my life.”

“I thought James was?” Y/N joked, hoping it would make Matthew at least crack a smile. She succeeded.

Matthew smiled. “Second best then.”

Y/N smiled as she leaned into his touch. “I love you, Matthew.”

“I love you too,” Matthew said.

Y/N’s heart swelled as Matthew spoke those words. A year of sending letters back and forth and realising her feelings for him, she never expected that he would ever feel the same way. Now as she looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pure love, she knew she was home.

“May I kiss you?” Matthew asked.

Y/N smiled. “You may.”

Once their lips touched, Y/N could think of nothing else but Matthew. His lips were soft and he tasted sweet. When she thought of kissing Matthew several months ago after a very particular dream, she had imagined fireworks and an overwhelming amount of feelings. She felt none of those.

Kissing Matthew felt normal, like their lips were always meant to touch and connect. They fit perfectly together– two halves of a whole.

An arm wrapped around her waist and Matthew pulled her on top of him with one swift motion, without disconnecting their lips. Y/N let out a small noise of surprise.

“Sorry,” Matthew mumbled against her lips. “I just need to be closer to you.”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered close as Matthew pressed his lips against Y/N’s once more. Her arms wrapped around Matthew’s neck and threaded her fingers in his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp. Matthew sighed in delight.

Y/N smiled into the kiss. She never would have thought that this was how her night would go. Finally kissing the man she loved after only loving him from afar. The feeling of his arms wrapped around her body made her feel safe and loved. Each touch sent her alight and left goosebumps in their wake. Everything about Matthew heightened her senses more than any rune ever could.

Matthew pulled away once more and opened his eyes to look at Y/N. His arms were locked around her keeping her in place and he tightened his arms the slightest amount.

“I love you,” Matthew said with a smile. It lit up his entire face. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my life.”

“How lucky you are?” Y/N said, brushing his hair away from his face. “I am the lucky one, because you, Matthew Fairchild, are a gift.”

Matthew smiled and nuzzled his head in the crook of her neck, pressing a light kiss to her bare shoulder where her robe had slid down.

Y/N smiled and held him long into the night.

_________________

#matthew fairchild x reader #matthew fairchild #shadowhunters #shadowhunter chronicles #matthew Fairchild x Fem!reader #matthew Fairchild fic #the last hours #the last hours series #tlh

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queerofthedagger · 1 year

Note

Here to take you up on your ficlet offer (pls send me a prompt if you like we can have a tiny fic exchange 💜) with this prompt from the "types of kiss" list:

One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss.

For Dream/Hob or Arthur/Merlin, whatever speaks more to you. My ao3 is softestpunk 💜

Thank youu, I hope you'll like it! 💙 This is a bit later than it was meant to be, so happy belated Christmas? 😄<3

build your heart a home

Hob trips on the last step up to his flat. Dream reaches for him before he has made a conscious decision to do so.

It earns him a smile, which almost makes the failure to anticipate his own actions worth it. Almost.

“Still can’t believe you actually agreed to spend Christmas with me,” Hob mumbles as he tries to unlock his front door.

His words are slightly unsteady. Not slurred yet—he isn’t drunk in the unfocused, frenetic way that Dream is familiar with from the dreams that drift into his youngest sister’s realm—but he is tipsy. Tongue loose and hands a little lazy. Dream rather likes him like this, the thread of carefully concealed caution that Hob tends to display at all other times unspooled and tangling.

Dream swallows the repeated insistence that the concept of Christmas means little to him. When Hob finally pushes the door open, he says instead, “It was important to you.”

The hallway, when he follows inside, is dim; the only light comes from the yellowish gloom of the streetlamps outside, and the electric candles on Hob’s Christmas tree in the next room.

It feels awfully close to home, in the way that throughout the last year, Dream has spent a number of evenings here that he has lost count of long ago. In the way that he can hear Hob’s fond demand to leave his shoes in the hallway, and how he has a side on the sofa, now. How the tree—rich green and still smelling of pine—may be more dream object than real, because Dream had drawn the line at carrying a tree. Up the stairs.

Hob had laughed at him, and then his eyes had gone soft when Dream arrived with this one. Dream had rather liked that too. He rather likes all of it an awful lot.

When he looks at Hob, he finds him already watching, dark eyes fixed on Dream as if there is nothing he would rather look at.

“It was; you made a difficult night not only bearable but warm,” Hob says, voice soft.

Dream cannot remember ever having been called warm, and it unsettles something within his chest that seems impossible to thrust back into containment.

“I am glad,” he says. His fingers itch to reach out; he allows them to brush the sleeve of Hob’s jumper.

Between them, the air seems to shift, and Dream is not sure he could look away from Hob even if he wanted to.

The odds that, after months of this, Hob can read it all on his face are infinite. And yet.

As if to prove that point, Hob steps closer, certain despite his unsteady feet, and curls his fingers around Dream’s hipbones. There is a dare pressed into the slope of his mouth that Dream desperately wants to answer.

He fists his hands into the soft, well-worn fabric of Hob’s jumper and tugs.

Hob goes willingly; of course, he does. Dream cannot bring himself to feel anything but terrified awe at it.

“Stop thinking so much,” Hob murmurs, vowels tripping and swallowed, and then he presses his open mouth to Dream’s as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Perhaps it is; Dream’s pointless heart is thrashing inside his chest, and he sways on his feet. Thinks that if he is made to give this up, he might as well take the world down with him because what is the point of it if Hob’s lips are not pressed to his? If Hob’s tongue does not meet his, clever and certain, as Dream can feel barrier after barrier inside of him crumble?

Dream has been here before, though. He forces himself to pull back, to frame Hob’s face between his hands and look at him.

Hob does not seem willing to wait, pushing forward again, his mouth finding Dream’s, and it would be so, so easy to let himself drown in it. It would be so, so easy to believe that perhaps this time, it will be different.

When he pulls away from Hob a second time, Hob lets him.

The hallway is still dim and quiet around them. The tree still twinkles in the living room, and the world has not yet begun to collapse around them.

That is… promising.

“Are you sure that you want this?” Dream asks, and he does not rush the words, but it is the closest that he will get.

Hob laughs, a low, incredulous sound. It curls fondly around Dream’s bones as Hob simply kisses him again—with more force this time, teeth sinking into flesh and nails finding skin.

“If you leave again,” Hob breathes, eyes closed, “I will find you, no matter where you are. I am not letting you go again.”

The affection spills into Dream’s mouth so sweetly, there is nothing he can do but draw Hob impossibly closer and pour it down his throat.

Breaking the kiss again is inconceivable, so Dream does not. The words, when he thinks them, sink their way right into the marrow of Hob’s bones.

“I will not take my leave of you again,” he says, biting the vow of it into Hob’s tender mouth. “You will have no need to search for me.”

The sound Hob makes in response is beyond pleased; Dream rather plans to build himself a home out of that, too.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #sandman fic #mona's writing #they can have a little obsessive co-dependency; as a treat<3 #december gift-ficlets

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kozumesphone · 22 days

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💌┊₊˚⊹꒷ 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 .ᐟ

⤷ leo valdez x fem!reader ‧₊˚ ⋅

ᝰ. 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 . . . percy jackson and the heroes of olympus

ᝰ. 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 . . . angst, swearing

ᝰ. 𝐤𝐞𝐲 . . . n/n: nickname | y/n: your name | y/l/n: your last name

ᝰ. 𝐰𝐜 . . . 618

ᝰ. 𝐚/𝐧 . . . short first oneshot! starting strong with an angsty leo one, just because. fun fact: this is actually an excerpt from a scene I wrote for my novel’s wip; I switched up some lines to suit the riordanverse setting more, as well as the characters’ names (:

leo was breathing raggedly, and I could hear his strained breaths through the phone he’d built for me.

“leo? you okay?” I asked.

“hey love, remember when you gave me that dagger with the teddy bear keychain? and the time I said the word ‘connoisseur’ all wrong and you took two hours to make me say it right?” he laughed.

“what’s going on? leo?” I was beyond confused. why was he telling me all this now? did he get into trouble with chiron, or mr. d?

he let out a dry laugh, and continued. “do you still have that dagger I gave you in exchange for your hair tie?”

I looked down at my shoes, and my gaze slipped to the dagger concealed at the side of my boot.

“of course I do.” it barely came out as a whisper. something was very wrong and he wasn’t telling me what. “please tell me what’s wrong, leo-“

“n/n, remember when you teased me endlessly about liking that one girl in that book you love?” he chuckled. he was talking about a character named jude from one of my favourite books. of course I remembered, but what the hell was going on? why was he calling me up and asking me all of this so suddenly?

“I… i’m sorry. I love you, n/n. so fucking much.” he paused, realising what he said. “in the best friend kind of way. obviously, shortie.”

“I know what you meant, dumbass.”

“oi, are we really going back to those nicknames now?” he laughed.

is he really okay?

“leo… you’re scaring me. please tell me what the fuck is going on.” I pleaded, my voice breaking.

“what, I can’t just call my best friend up and express my gratitude on a lovely morning?” he paused, understanding I wanted the real story. “there’s another quest, and… i’m not sure i’ll be back this time. but, n/n?”

“yeah?” my heart hammered in my chest at the mention of a quest. he should be all right. he was probably just assuming the worst, right?

“thank you.” he took a deep breath. “thank you for taking care of me. thank you for understanding and being with me, for all these years.” he was on the verge of tears and holding back a sob, and I could just tell.

“leo, I love you so fucking much too, my dumbass. please tell me what quest chiron has you on. I can help you. we can do this together!” I almost yelled the last part.

he sighed. “i’m sorry, n/n, I can’t let you get hurt too. I can’t see you die like that.”

rage consumed her, like a predator would a prey. if he couldn’t watch her get hurt, did he really think she could just sit around and wait for him to die?

“shut up. shut up. don’t you dare talk like you’re dying. you will not die, and you will tell me what’s going on, in detail. I swear to the gods, valdez, I will strangle you myself if you don’t come back to me alive.”

he breathes out something in between a laugh and a sob. “i’m sorry, n/n. I can’t promise you that. I have to go now, the others are waiting for me. we’re going to leave in a few minutes.” he took a few seconds to organise his words, and I thought he hung up. until, he said the words that wholly and completely destroyed me.

“y/n y/l/n, i’m sorry. I love you.”

there was a little click, which my heart shattered in rhythm with.

I had the most soul-consuming feeling that I would be deprived of his voice for millions of years to come.

#skye's cafe ~ ⋆.˚#skye.jpg🧸—#I love crying to angsty leo fics <3 #hail angst #leovaldez #pjo #hoo #heroesofolympus #femreader #leovaldezxreader #oneshot #angst #pjoangst #heroesofolympusoneshot #riordanverse #writers on tumblr #writer

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teaberrii · 8 months

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Chapter 26: Where it Ends

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“You should’ve come to me years ago with this proposal,” Jing Yuan said flatly. “I would’ve accepted it on the spot. But now, I think you're out of your mind."

Young’s eyes flashed in the dark. “You can’t hide your real identity forever, Jing Yuan. If Mother's plan goes through, whose side are you going to take? Will you expose Mother and her ugly lies? Or, will you continue living amongst the humans who cannot accept your real identity?"

Jing Yuan sucked in his teeth. "And what about you? You're the fucking heir to the Middle Kingdom. Don't tell me no one is going notice that you just suddenly vanished."

"...Which is why I plan to erase their memories."

"Erase their...?" Jing Yuan scoffed. "You're going to erase your existence? For a woman? Pathetic." When Young said nothing, Jing Yuan sighed. "I'll hear you out. Just make it fast."

Your body is slightly shaking. Young chose to die? You already hated your parents and society, but it was Young’s death that drove you over the edge. He had been your heart and soul, and he chose to die so you could continue living in the very society that robbed you of your happiness.

“That day…” you begin quietly. “You knew that your mother used a concealment spell. You knew that she thought Jing Yuan was going to kill me. You knew…” Your voice breaks as you say, “You were going to die.”

“...When the execution happened, it was supposed to trigger a spell to eventually wipe their memories of me.”

You take a small breath as you try to keep your mind sound. “And was that supposed to solve everything? You dying… Your mother believing I was dead… forgetting about you…" A pause. "No. When she tried to kill me, she remembered you.“

“That was not supposed to happen,” Young says quietly. “By then, the spell should already take effect, but I don't know what went wrong. The plan was to keep you alive… but also have Mother slowly let her hatred go.”

“That still doesn’t make sense!” You clench your fists. “You said she wanted to enslave the humans. Fine. But how was keeping me alive and forgetting about you supposed to stop that from happening?”

“Jing Yuan.”

“...Jing Yuan?”

“Jing Yuan came to the north to take revenge for what your parents did to his father. He and Mother share the same hatred. If Jing Yuan killed them, he could take control of the north. He’s also respected in the south.”

You scoff and look away. “He’d become the ruler of the Kingdoms. Is that it?”

Young puts his hands on your arms. “That’s why I needed his help. There would be no war. You would be ali—”

“I would be alive, yes,” you say through gritted teeth. “Jing Yuan eventually made my life a living hell. Even before you two came up with this little plan. I… I can’t—”

“Jing Yuan came to the north to kill your parents. But… because they’re your parents, he put off his plan.” Young briefly closes his eyes. “He fell in love with you.”

“Do you think I’m going to thank you?” There are tears in your eyes, and you clench your fists. “I loved you… I loved you so much that I cursed people. I bet you and Jing Yuan didn’t have that in your plans, did you? You thought I was just going to have a little heartbreak and then move on?" You glare at him. "Oh, wait. I guess I was supposed to forget about you, too."

Young wants to reach out to you but the sheer anger in your eyes tells him otherwise. “...What happened was beyond anything I could’ve imagined. It was not supposed to happen.”

“Well, I guess I’m just full of surprises, huh?” You take a small breath. “It’s too late to say this now. But, we should’ve fought. The war your mother wanted to happen… it should’ve happened. Then…” You can’t stop the tears from falling now. “...Perhaps we would’ve died together. That would’ve been the best outcome.” You aren’t looking at him anymore. “Did Jing Yuan know everything? About why you tied your soul to this locket?”

“...No. He never knew about any of the magic imbued in that locket.”

“Here’s another question. You asked Pom to put a protection spell on this locket. What was the point of that if you and Jing Yuan were working together in the first place?”

“This wasn’t something we were planning from the beginning. Jing Yuan and I were still enemies when I went to Pom.” Young slowly hugs you. “...I know you’re angry, and I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I—”

You close your eyes and exhale softly. “Do you know what I’m most upset about? You know… besides the whole oh-my-God-I-literally-cursed-people?” You pull away and give him a little, sad smile. “It’s that you didn’t confide in me. Whatever your mother was planning… She could've been planning to summon the God of Death or King of Hell, but I wished you could’ve talked to me instead of trying to protect me by yourself.”

The look in Young’s eyes tells you he understands.

But, maybe this is also fate.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes with a message.

Pom: Found Caelus!! At hospital!!! Get chur butts ova here.

By the time you and Young arrive at the hospital, you see Jing Yuan sitting in a waiting area with a bloody bandage on his arm. When he sees you, he only nods at a door where you assume Caelus is.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“That’s what I’m wondering myself,” Jing Yuan mutters. Then, he sighs loudly. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken that damn shortcut today.” Upon noticing Young staring at him, Jing Yuan slightly narrows his eyes. “Is there something on my face?”

“...It’s been a long time."

Jing Yuan raises a brow. “Not long enough for you to be saying that. What’s—”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jing Yuan slid a hand into his pocket as he stared at his half-naked brother who would be dead in the next couple of hours. “Do you know I’ve had dreams about killing you? But looking at you now…” Jing Yuan sighed. “I’ve been too into my head about hating you.”

"You say this now when I'm going to die."

Jing Yuan crossed his arms. "We love the same woman, but you're literally dying for her. I don't know if I could top that."

Young looked down and smiled. "...Hard to say."

"How did you find out? That we were related?"

"My father. If he didn't tell me his story about him and Mother, I probably would never have found out."

“What made you ask? Something must’ve prompted you.”

Then, Young quietly said your name.

“Were you really stupid enough to say her name in front of your father?”

“I told him there was a girl I love so much that I want to marry her. But… due to circumstances, it’s impossible for us to be together.” Jing Yuan looked away. “I couldn’t tell him everything… but after all that, he said I should marry out of love, something he never got to experience.”

“...And that got you asking questions,” Jing Yuan muttered. Then, out of curiosity, he asked, “Does he hate humans as much as Mother?”

“His hate does not run as deep as Mother’s, but the pain of the war that happened many years ago… that cannot be easily erased.”

“And here we are now…” Jing Yuan sighed. “If Mother had taken a different path… things would’ve turned out differently.”

Young scoffed with a small smile. “Yes. We'd be fighting over the same girl instead of trying to save her life.”

Jing Yuan put a hand on Young’s head. “We did fight over her, and in the end, she still chose you over me. Now, here I am… making her hate me even more as I kill my brother and the fucking man she loves. What a joke.”

“It’s not like you to cry.”

“I’m not!”

“Right. I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.”

“Smartass.” When noises could be heard outside, Young heard his brother say his name. The half-dragon looked at his brother as he said, “...She won't forget about you, you know.” A small pause. “I won’t forget.”

“I liked you better when you were trying to assert your dominance.”

Jing Yuan glared at him. “Don’t make me walk out there with your head in my hands.”

Young looked down, and with a small, sad smile, he said, “It’s time, Brother.”

Jing Yuan stares at Young in shock, but before he can say a word, the door suddenly opens. Caelus’s father is the first one out followed by a nervous-looking Pom. As soon as Caelus’s father sees you, he frowns.

“...You.” He walks up. “What did you do to my son?”

Pom quickly slips between you and Caelus’s father. “Sir, it’s—”

“You’ve said enough,” Caelus’s father interrupts. “Now, move.” You don't get a chance to say anything as he shouts, "Explain why he keeps saying you're the reason why he's sick!"

Before Caelus’s father can grab you by the shoulders, Young quickly steps in, glaring at him. “Touch her, and you’ll be sorry.”

“Y’know,” Jing Yuan says, “I’d like to know why your son attacked me at the park. You don’t see me barging in there and grabbing at him.”

Caelus’s father glares at him. “He mentioned you as well. Something about you betraying him. How do you know my son?”

“...Dad.” Stelle comes out with Lan. “Stop.”

“I just want some answers, Stelle. I’m sure you do, too. Caelus isn’t supposed to be here! He’s—”

“He wanted to keep it a secret,” Lan says. “All of us”—he nods towards you—”we were looking for ways to help him because this cannot be solved using normal means.”

“How do you expect me to believe that my son is cursed? That is utterly ridiculous! I—”

“It’s true,” you say, and everyone turns. “...I was the one who cursed him.”

◆◆◆

A scream. A slash. A thud.

By now, the curse had taken over all three kingdoms. There was chaos and destruction at every corner. There was no order, no royals, and no titles. Everyone was strangely equal, but the situation still favoured those with wit and strength.

Just as Luocha pulled out his sword from the throat of an infected, he saw three of the infected swarm on top of a guard. Having no choice, Luocha fled and eventually sought shelter in his father’s room. The room still smelled like blood.

Luocha had just closed his eyes when he heard a light creak behind him. He spun around, his sword raised, and his eyes widened when he saw… you. He quietly said your name, nearly dropping his sword. A black veil covered half of your face, revealing nothing but your sharp eyes. Your clothes, a mix of white, gray, and black, were nothing like what the other women your age wore. Yours were fit for battle.

“How… Why are you here?” Luocha asked.

“I was curious.” You glanced at an ink-painted portrait of your family with bloody fingerprints all over. “...How everyone was doing.”

Luocha narrowed his eyes. “...You knew about everything that was going on."

“Stop trying to get a confession out of me, Luocha. Just say what you want to say.”

“You used magic… disguised yourself as Jing Yuan’s handmaiden and cursed our father.”

You looked down and chuckled. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you were the one to figure this all out. How long have you known?”

“For father’s health to suddenly deteriorate like that… it wasn't normal. After weeks of trying to treat him, I had a hunch this was because of black magic.”

“And from that, you suddenly decided that I was the one responsible?”

“No. Rather, I thought Jing Yuan was the one behind it. But, when his wife was cursed, I started to think it was you. I never thought you'd give up studying magic. You also had Young teaching you when he was alive.” Luocha walked up to you. “It’s been years, Sister, but you haven’t changed. At least, your thirst for knowledge never fails to surprise me.”

“Are you going to kill me? For killing Father?”

“You should’ve stopped there.” You glared at him, but Luocha didn’t back down. “Was Young so important that you had to get innocent people involved? He wouldn’t have wanted this to happen.”

Your sword was now at the side of his neck. “...Young was my happiness. Why should I continue living in the very society that turns a blind eye to injustice? What did we do that was so wrong? Young had every right to live as much as everyone else. Yet, his life was taken away, and for what? For me? Because of the political rivalry?” You scoffed. “I doubt we’re the first, and we won’t be the last.” Your blade drew closer. “...I want to end all of this political bullshit.”

Luocha was silent for a moment until he said, “And are you happy with the outcome?”

“I’m not finished.” Luocha briefly closed his eyes. Then, you quietly said, “I trusted you. Yet… when everything was happening, you did nothing.”

He could’ve preached that he was trying to protect you, but he knew he wasn't. Looking back, all he did was follow the status quo. So, he told you to stay away from Young, knowing well what would happen if you got caught. But, it wouldn’t be his fault. He warned you, after all. You just didn’t listen. Even when Jing Yuan banished you, Luocha remembered how he wanted to say something. But, what if he ended up getting banished with you? What would become of him? His status as a doctor? Would all of his hard work go to waste? Deep down, Luocha knew that he only wanted to protect himself.

A vial appeared in your hand. “I was saving this for you.”

“...Are you not going to use it?”

Then, you smiled wryly. “I don’t know… Who do I hate more? You or Jing Yuan? If you were Caelus or anyone else, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you.”

Luocha suddenly grabbed your hand that was holding the vial. He popped the vial open, and the mist wasted no time snaking up the glass and into the air. “I may have failed you as a brother, but know that during the time you were gone, I always hoped you were well. And…” Luocha neither flinched nor stepped back as the mist swiftly crawled into his eyes. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees, and the sound of swords hit the ground. When Luocha looked at you, the whites of his eyes were already turning blood red. “...And that I was proud to have a sister like you.”

You watched your brother fall to the floor, his mouth opening and closing as if he were a fish out of water until someone said your name.

“I found him.”

You stood just as your brother turned eerily quiet. But, instead of answering Pom, you picked up your sword. With both hands, you held it over your brother.

Before Luocha could regain consciousness without any humanity left in him, you struck the sword through his heart.

Luocha has one hand on the sink, the other is clutching his heart as he stares at his reflection in the mirror. You had killed him to spare him from turning into a horrendous creature. But the pain remains. His heart feels as if it’s engulfed in flames. When he closes his eyes, he sees you and then collapses to the floor.

◆◆◆

“...My son is dying in there,” Caelus’s father says, pointing to the closed door. “Do something!”

Then, the rest of the group walks out of Caelus's room, and March closes the door behind her. “He's finally asleep,” she says.

The doctor who had taken over for Luocha looks as white as a sheet. “I don’t know how long the sedation will last given his current state. Let me try to get in touch with Doctor Luocha and see if he can come in to help.”

“...Don’t think the guy will be much help,” Jing Yuan mutters.

“Dad.” Stelle puts a hand on her father’s shoulder. “...I can stay with Caelus tonight. You should go home, and get some rest.”

Before he can answer, his phone goes off. With one look at the screen, he walks off and answers it. “Yes… Yes… I know. I’ll deal with it…”

“Sounds like he’s got a lot on his plate,” Gepard says, watching the man round the corner while looking down.

“He’s been stressed,” Stelle says. “Not sure about what… but—”

“You really don’t know much about your father, don’t you?”

March puts a hand on her hip. “Are you saying you do?”

“I know my clients like the back of my hand, sweetheart.”

“Clients?” Gepard asks, raising a brow.

“He asked you to do something about that article about The Withering, didn’t he?” Stelle asks.

Jing Yuan smiles. "You're a smart one."

“L-Look,” March says after a sigh. “There’s too much going on right now! What are we going to do about Caelus? What happens after he wakes up? He’s not just going to… I don’t know… bust outta here, right?”

“...What can we do?” Gepard says quietly. “Let’s just wait if Luocha can do something about this.”

“Yeah, if you’re talking about the tall, blonde, pretty boy, you’re out of luck,” Nanook says, sitting on a nearby chair.

Stelle quickly looks at him. “...What? Did something happen to him?” Then, she looks at you. “What happened to Luocha?”

Jing Yuan steps in front of you and Stelle and says, “He’s fine. I can get in touch with him.”

Stelle frowns. “Don’t tell me he’s associated with you, too.”

“Take a guess.”

Stelle’s father comes around the corner and looks at his daughter. “...Stelle, we’re going home.”

“What?” Stelle looks at Caelus’s closed door. “But, what about Caelus?”

“It’s not like you can do anything if you stay.”

Gepard frowns at Lan. “Did you really have to put it like that?”

“It’s true,” Nanook says, looking at Stelle. “There’s really nothing you can do for him at this point.”

Stelle’s eyes land on you, and she walks up. “I may not know exactly what happened between you and my brother,” she says quietly. “But, isn’t that all in the past? I hope… I hope you can find it in you to help him.”

Then, she walks away with her father.

“I’ll keep an eye on Caelus,” Nanook says. “He won’t be going on any murderous rampages under my watch.”

Gepard and March are the first to leave. Then, in an attempt to lighten the mood, Jing Yuan turns toward the rest of the group and says, “Does this mean I’m officially off the radar? No more babysitters?”

Young finally turns to Pom. “You’ve been fidgeting for a while. What’s wrong?”

Pom quickly turns to Young. “M-Me? Oh, um, well…”

“I’ve noticed it, too,” Lan says. “Is there something you’re not telling us, Pom?”

Pom takes a breath and looks at you. But, before he can say anything else, they hear another voice. “Yes, Pom, don’t you think it’s time to stop keeping secrets to yourself?”

Nanook frowns at Sampo who’s suddenly sitting in a chair next to him. “How long have you been eavesdropping?”

Sampo shrugs just as Pom nervously says, “There’s a way to stop the curse.”

“How?” you ask.

Pom slowly looks at you, but it’s Sampo who breaks the news. “You die, Cupid.” Then, he stands and walks over. He leans down so he’s at eye-level with you. “...This is the choice you have to make.” When you look Sampo in the eyes, it’s as if he’s compelling you not to look away. “To live or to die.”

“...So, if she dies, the curse will go away?” Jing Yuan asks. "Everyone will live?"

“Correct.” Sampo leans upright. “You’d better decide quickly, dearie. Because time is not on your side.”

Then, he looks over his shoulder and sees Jing Yuan standing behind him. But his gold eyes are fixed on you.

“...What are you doing, Jing Yuan?” Lan asks.

Jing Yuan pushes past Sampo and suddenly grabs you by the hair, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re at a disadvantage,” Young says sternly. “Let her go.”

“I thought we’re all on the same team here. We want this curse gone, don’t we?” Jing Yuan shoots you a look. “And now we have an answer.” Without turning his head, Jing Yuan looks at Young. “You must be the one I’ve been hearing so much about. Cold Dragon Young.”

“...If you really wanted to kill me,” you say quietly. When Jing Yuan looks back, he sees you glaring at him. “You would’ve killed me that day.”

Jing Yuan had his sword drawn. Something creaked behind him, but when he turned all he saw were the shadows of the candles on the walls. After he and Luocha split up, he ended up seeking refuge in your old room to escape the chaos outside. Ever since Jing Yuan banished you, he didn’t let anyone use your room, not even his wife. Sometimes, he’d pass by, and the night when he first tried to woo you almost always came back to him.

It was the night you had been drinking with Jing Yuan and Luocha. You had a little too much, and Jing Yuan ended up giving you a piggyback ride back to your room.

“...Young…” you’d whispered. “I miss you.”

Would his name ever leave your lips like that? Jing Yuan slid your door open, walked inside, and went straight to your bed. He gently put you down, but his hand was also itching to grab the knife hidden inside his hanfu. It would be so easy to kill you. One slash to the neck. One stab to the heart. You were completely vulnerable. Yet, before he knew it, Jing Yuan was leaning over you, his face dangerously close to yours. He could smell the alcohol, and he was fighting the curious urge to taste it on your lips.

Your eyes slowly opened, and you quickly sat up as if the sight of him made you sober.

“What are you doing?” you asked, holding the blanket over you.

“You passed out,” Jing Yuan answered calmly. “I took you back to your room.”

“...Okay, but why are you still here?”

Jing Yuan decided to take a risk. “Because I’m curious.”

“About what?” You frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re curious about a girl’s room.”

“You kept muttering a name. Young. Don’t tell me it’s Young, heir of the Middle Kingdom?” Jing Yuan knew, but it was your reaction that he was looking for. You’d stiffened and looked away. “...Looks like I was spot on.”

"Thank you for taking me back to my room, but if you could just leave—"

“Race aside… It’s not wise to waste your time on men who play with your feelings.”

Your gaze hardened. “He’s not playing with my feelings."

“So, you’re pathetically pining over him?”

“...Get lost.”

Jing Yuan grabbed your cheeks and forced you to look at him. “...I could make you forget about him.”

“You’re crazy. I think you’re the one who had too much to—”

His mouth was on yours, hard and rough. One of his hands held your wrists, and when he nipped your top lip, he raised your hand to the side of your head. He gently pulled your lip with his own and repeated the caress on your bottom lip before your lips finally parted. Jing Yuan wasted no time. The heat that began at his mouth had unfurled so fast that he needed more.

The alcohol tasted even better on your tongue. Your bed dipped when he climbed on top. Soon, his body was flush against yours until he heard you say, “...Stop.” Jing Yuan broke away. He had you on your bed, hands on either side of your head. The sight had sent his nerves on fire, but your face said a different story. " This isn’t right.”

“Who said?” You looked away, so Jing Yuan continued, “You aren’t his.”

“I’m not yours either.”

“But, you didn’t resist, which means… you also feel something for me.”

“I don’t want this,” you muttered. “Get off me.”

“...Say it while looking at me.”

You finally looked back at him. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Then, his mouth was on yours again.

Another creak made Jing Yuan spin around. Except this time, a sword pierced just next to his heart. Jing Yuan instantly fell to his knees. He could feel the tip of his blade scratching at his heart like fingernails on a chalkboard. This was deliberate. The placement was planned. With shaking hands, Jing Yuan put his hands on the grip until he saw you emerge from the shadows of the room.

“...We finally meet again.”

“I remember now,” Jing Yuan mutters. “You tortured me that day.”

Nanook looks at you. “Tortured and cursed?”

“No,” you say, without looking at him. “I didn’t curse him.”

Lan and Nanook glance at each other. “...Why not?”

Young has a hand on top of Jing Yuan's, and the man lets out a short scream before releasing you.

“Because once the person is dead," you say, "the curse won’t work.”

Jing Yuan couldn’t move. A small knife had pierced his hands, forcing them together. With every small movement, he felt the tip of your blade press against his heart. You were standing in front of him, your eyes cold, dead, and beyond saving. He was shirtless with blood and bruises all over.

“...I didn’t want to believe it was you.”

“And look where that got you, General.” You heard something crash outside. “Fire. Destruction.” Your eyes landed back on him. “Revenge.”

“This… This is all for Young, isn’t it?”

You twirled a knife in your hand and teased the blade down the side of his neck, drawing a thin line of blood. You walked behind him, stabbed him, and slowly dug the knife deeper… and deeper, taking great pleasure in hearing his painful groans.

“Why couldn’t we just get along?” you asked, leaving the knife inside of him and another one appeared in your hands. “...Your initial kindness was just an act.”

“...No,” Jing Yuan managed to say He took a breath. “Do you know why I came to the North?” At your silence, he forced a little, painful smile. “Your family took everything from me. My childhood. My parents. The life I could've had. And for what?” He looked up at you. “Because they couldn’t stand that my father fell in love with a woman from the Middle Kingdom.”

Was it ironic or a cruel twist of fate that Jing Yuan suffered a similar fate?

“I could’ve killed them earlier… but seeing how you were their daughter”—a small scoff—”I started rethinking everything.” Jing Yuan screamed in pain as his hand slid across the blade until it was finally free. But now there were two gaping holes in the middle of his palms. The blade fell to the floor just as he grabbed your hand with the dagger. “I want to stop this. For you. For Young. For myself.” Upon pulling you closer, he felt the tip of the dagger against his abdomen. “...My brother and I wanted to protect you, but I guess we failed.”

As if sensing it was coming, you tried to stop him, but with the last of his strength, the dagger impaled him. With the amount of force you felt, you knew he was gone.

Sampo looks at you. “Your revenge ended with Jing Yuan, but the war raged on. Nothing could stop the monsters you created.”

“Pom,” Nanook says. Then, he eyes Sampo. “Is that what you wanted to tell us? You knew she had to die for the curse to be over?”

“I had a dream about it,�� Pom says quietly.

“That may have been true, but perhaps not anymore.” Everyone turns to Young, but he's looking at you. “...There might be another way.”

Chapter 27

End notes: I think a lot of people are probably wondering about why/how Cupid became a God. Well, our dear 'ol Sampo is going to reveal that in the next chapter lol now that all this revenge has finally come to light.

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