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blueicequeen19 · 3 days

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Warnings: hooking up with Rafe after JJ humiliated you

You were humiliated after you found out. It was bad enough that you’d slept with a Pogue but for that Pogue to record it and post it on his snap?

Now everyone knew.

There was no hiding it. You could tell by the way people were staring at you that they’d all seen it. But honestly not all the attention was bad. Rafe Cameron spoke to you for the first time since graduating. He even invited you up stairs where his crew hung out.

And when he kissed you? It was like your dreams were suddenly coming true.

“Damn girl.” Rafe groaned against your lips, the hand in your hair preventing you from pulling away from his fevered kisses. Your back was against the wall, your leg hooked over his hip as he rubbed up against you. He didn’t seem to care that the party was still going on around you.

“Rafe.” You gasped as his hand slid up your leg under your dress and grabbed a hand full of your ass.

“So fucking wet for me.” Rafe groans, giving you tingles all the way down to your toes. You couldn’t stop kissing him. His words and his body were doing things to you. It was hard to think.

“I need to feel you stretched around me.” Rafe growled in your ear, his mouth leaving wet kisses down your neck as his hand slipped between your thighs. Your eyes snapped open, wondering momentarily if his friends were watching but his body blocked the view.

“We should go somewhere private.” You gasped when he cupped your sex, his palm grinding against your swollen clit. You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips to gain more friction. The lust was overpowering.

“I thought you liked an audience.” Rafe whispered, plunging a finger inside you before you could process what he said. The pleasure was too much. You were so close to cumming already. But he’d seen the video. He thought you were easy. A whore.

“Wait—.” Two fingers curl inside you and your legs almost give out, your eyes nearly crossing.

“I saw the video. I thought it was hot.” Rafe tips your chin up, refusing to let you hide despite his fingers still moving inside you.

“The only thing I kept thinking was—.” His lips brush yours as he whispers, “—I want to know what she feels like stretched around my cock. Then I want that pretty pussy to sit on my face until I can’t breathe.” His words combined with the movement of his fingers tips you over the edge without even meaning to. You clench your jaw to keep from making any noice as you ride out your orgasm, your nails biting into his shirt until the shakes subside.

“You’re not disgusted with me?” You rasp just as he pulls his fingers free and sucks them clean in his mouth. Rafe groans from the taste, letting his eyes fall shut as he presses his erection against your stomach. A clear sign he was not disgusted.

“No, baby. I’m not disgusted.” Rafe takes your hand, leading you into an empty bedroom and leaving the lights off. You watch as he strips, revealing his toned naked glory and a thick cock that looked like it’d hurt. But your clit pulsed with need. Rafe’s dark gaze held yours as he stroked himself from root to tip.

You wanted him in your mouth. Your pussy. Whatever he wanted. Fuck the video.

“This is the only chance I’m offering for you to leave.” The tension was so thick, you could barely catch your breath. Precum beaded on the tip and you licked your lips, needing that in your mouth.

“If you stay, you’re not leaving until I’ve had my fill.” Rafe steps forward and you find yourself stepping back despite wanting him desperately. The weapon between his legs had you intimidated as he matched your retreating steps. As if knowing what was on your mind, Rafe smirked as he stopped in front of you, your back against the wall.

“Are you scared I won’t be able to make it fit?” Rafe’s deep, husky voice had your knees weak as his cock pressed up against your stomach. You nodded, not trusting yourself with words.

“You’re going to take it all of it, right? Make me proud?” You found yourself nodding as Rafe used his free hand to tug down the straps of your sundress. The material pooled at your feet, leaving you in nothing but a thong and wedged sandals.

“Good girl.” Rafe sucked two fingers into his mouth before bringing them between your thighs, the tiny thong not providing much of a barrier before he thrust them inside you. You moaned as he continued to jerk himself off.

“The next time you cum will be on my cock so you better not let go yet.” Rafe leaned down to capture your mouth, a third finger forcing its way inside. Your legs shook as you gripped his biceps, your body wound so tight you could barely breathe. A fourth finger joined the rest and you sobbed against his mouth.

“I’m going to do some disrespectful things to you now.” Rafe murmured, his eyes darker than before. It was the only warning you got before he was fisting your hair and shoving you onto the bed on all fours.

“Rafe.” You pleaded, your body trembling as you felt him come up behind you. His cock slid back and forth through your slit, driving you further into madness.

“I want you to scream for me. I wanna see tears, baby.” The thick mushroom head of his cock met your entrance, causing you to tense. Rafe’s hand came down on your ass in warning, the sting making you whimper even more as he started to push in.

“Oh, god.” You cried out, his cock feeling deep enough to do damage.

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined.” Rafe started to move and you reached beneath you to feel where you were connected, your brain short circuiting when you realize he’s only half way.

“Rafe!” You cried, burying your face in the comforter as his movements became harsher.

“Come on, you can take it.” Rafe cooed, pulling you upright by your hair. The pleasure and pain were blinding. An arm snaked around to pinch your nipples before sliding down to push on your stomach. You didn’t recognize the sounds you made. So this is what people meant when they referred to be dick whipped.

“You’re too deep.” You whimpered, tears streaming down your face but you weren’t about to ask him to stop. You were on the verge of something explosive.

“I’m not even all the way in, baby.” Rafe laughed in your ear before shoving you down on the bed and flipping you onto your back. Rafe kneeled on the bed, dragging you closer before sliding back inside.

This was worse.

Your back bowed as you cried out, Rafe’s hands finding your clit and your hard nipples as he fucked you harder than before.

“You feel so fucking good. I never wanna stop.” Rafe groaned, biting his lip in concentration.

You were too far gone to speak. Everything hurt. But the pleasure overruled the pain. When your body exploded with your climax and you soaked the sheets, Rafe only chuckled, continuing to stimulate your clit and nipples until you were nothing but a boneless heap.

“Rafe, please—.” You pushed at his chest, tears blurring your vision. Could you die from being impaled on a dick?

“I haven’t had my fill yet.” Rafe murmured. You whimpered just as Rafe flipped you, stuffing a pillow under your hips and coming down on your back. You were soaked but it still burned from the stretch as he pushed back in. A deep, throaty groan met your ear as Rafe started to move again, your inner walls clenching hard.

“Beg me to cum inside you.” Rafe rasped in your ear, his hand coming around to grip your throat. You were on the edge of another explosive orgasm more powerful than the last. You were sure you’d pass out.

“Please.. Rafe..”

“Tell me what you want.” Rafe bit out, rolling his hips and hitting you even deeper.

“Please cum inside me. Please. I want it so much.” The words barely left your lips before his growl met your ear and his hand tightened on your throat, his movements growing harsher until both your releases were triggered. You screamed as Rafe shouted curses.

You’d never cum so hard in your life. It was like an out of body experience with the hottest guy on the island. You barely registered him removing himself from your abused pussy and rolling you onto your back. You didn’t even register him positioning himself between your legs until his lap lapped at your sensitive clit.

“No more. Please. No more.” You breathed, pushing at his buzzed head as he licked you almost lazily, not minding that you were full of his cum.

“I’m not done. I told you I wanted my fill now lay back and shut up.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #obx2 #rafe angst #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe cameron x smut

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 days

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If it’s alright, I have a question about Vil and Epel’s relationship. I understand that the accent changing plot line is just a cultural politeness thing that didn’t carry over outside of Japan, but the other parts of changing Epel’s behavior don’t quite make sense.

Why exactly is Epel being forced to call macarons his favorite food? And act very soft-spoken? I can’t see how these fit in with the politeness aspect of the table manners, no abrasive language, etc. It just doesn’t give a very good impression, especially in combination with the unfortunate implication of giving Epel a Southern accent for the “change your accent” plot point.

Before I get to responding to the questions posed by this ask, allow me to explain for those who may not be familiar with this controversy! This is so we can all go into reading this post from the same starting point.

I've made titles to denote the explanation of background knowledge and to denote responding to the questions actually asked to me! If you're already familiar with the Vil-Epel-accent debacle then feel free to skip the first section!

Disclaimer: I’m speaking on these concepts as I personally understand them. However, I am not a native Japanese speaker so I’d advise that you consult additional resources with a better understanding of the language and culture. Two resources I enjoy are Yuurei and MysteryShopTLs, who have both also addressed Epel’s accent and how it was localized.

The Accent, EN vs JP

It’s well-known that Epel is a character with a heavy accent who has been explicitly told by Vil, his dorm leader, to alter the way he speaks. In EN, Epel speaks with what appears to be a southern (as in, “from the southern United States”) accent. Therefore, when Vil tells him to stop speaking in the accent, it feels as though Vil is shaming him for his southern roots and culture. This has also led to fans (especially of the EN-only sphere) thinking that Vil believes Epel’s accent is “unrefined” and “makes him sound uncouth/uneducated”, which is why Vil tells Epel to cover it up. I have even received asks conveying as much in the past (here is one example).

In the original JP, Epel speaks in a way that does not closely resemble any real-world Japanese dialect but rather a blend of them. If you ask a native Japanese speaker, they would likely tell you that it is difficult to understand what Epel is saying and that it sounds as though he is speaking rudely or too casually. People could genuinely take offense to the accent because it can be mistaken as something else entirely. This is obviously very different than the real-world accent (which many people can still understand and wouldn’t perceive as rude) that Epel was localized to have. The decision to give him a southern accent, then, does not completely carry over its original JP connotations into EN.

What remains the same in both EN and JP is the reason Vil provides for telling Epel to adjust the way he communicates. As he says in EN, “Speak properly" to which Epel immediately assumes the command comes from a place of elitism/classism and Vil thinking Epel's manner of speaking is beneath him. Vil responds with, "Stop misinterpreting my instructions. I have nothing against your home or its dialect. What I object to is your attitude. Being proud of your home is all well and good, but there is a time and a place for that. The way you address your superiors is entirely unacceptable." (Keep in mind that before this, Epel was the one instigating a fight with Vil and subsequently got his ass whooped for disrespecting an upperclassman. As the victor, he declares that Epel must do as he says--that's the "culture" of NRC. The weak obey the strong, so if Epel wants to do whatever he wants, then Vil challenges him to beat Epel in a fight. Until then, the loser must obey the winner. Epel agrees to these conditions.) This may be a little hard for western English speakers to wrap their heads around, but MANY Asian countries, Japan included, run on a hierarchical system which is embedded even into their languages. Japanese, for example, has honorifics to denote the relationship between the speaker and the listener, as well as variations on the same word depending on the context ("boku", "ore", "watashi", "atashi", etc. are all valid ways to refer to oneself, "onii-san", "onii-sama", "aniki", "kyodai", etc. are all ways to refer to a brother, whether blood-related or not). In some cases, it's considered rude to call others by their first name unless you know them well, and even then it's not common to see a first name without an honorific. This is not as strictly adhered to in English, which is perhaps where a cultural disconnect occurs. What Vil is referring to in his instructions to Epel is what is known in the world of linguistics as "code switching", or changing how one communicates to suit the situation. Part of code switching is changing one's "register", or the level of formality you use. So for example, I could use a colloquial/casual register when I speak with my friends, but I may shift to a more polite and formal register when I speak with my professors, a boss, or an older relative. Vil, then, is critiquing Epel for not speaking politely to his seniors (something which is expected in Japanese culture, but not expected among those in similar grade levels in western cultures).

In the Harveston Sledathon event, we get to venture to Epel's hometown and hear how the locals speak. Indeed, we get more instances of people who speak in the same way Epel does. It's the Harveston dialect, which is so distinctive that it basically sounds like a whole different language. (There are also languages like this in real life; consider Mandarin and Cantonese; technically they are both "Chinese" but Mandarin and Cantonese speakers would not be able to comprehend one another even if they use the same written language). However, it's notable that Marja (Epel's grandmother) and the mayor of Harveston are able to code switch flawlessly into a more standardized tongue. They explain that this is a skill they have developed because it helps in communicating with tourists/visitors to the village and for whenever they travel to the nearby city to sell their wares. This reinforces Vil's point that there is a "time and place" for certain ways of speaking, which Epel needs to consider.

Macarons and Soft-Spokeness

Accent thing aside, some English-speaking fans take issue with Vil's stern treatment of Epel, particularly in instances in which Vil seems to be exerting significant control over his underclassman's behaviors. (Japanese-speaking fans largely do not hold the same sentiment.) Examples of this include Vil forcing Epel to state that his favorite food is macarons, as well as making Epel present as soft-spoken even when he's just among his peers. I will now be addressing both of these points. TO BE CLEAR, I am NOT trying to defend Vil but rather I'm just going to speculate about why the circumstances are the way that they are and/or why perceptions of his attitude may differ.

Starting with macarons! It is stated in Epel's official profile and by Epel himself in his Birthday Boy vignettes that his favorite food is yakiniku (Japanese grilled meat). However, macarons are also listed as his favorite food, and this is notable because he's the only character with two foods listed instead of just one. In the aforementioned Birthday Boy vignettes, Epel is quick to qualify his love of meats with, "Well, I do have one thing I like even more. It's, ah, macarons." When asked what he likes about them, he says, "They're... cute. And sweet! And they come in lots of different flavors." His voice here sounds hesitant, so it's not clear whether he's being entirely honest or not. He even admits in a whisper that, "[Macarons] are not very filling, but still." Epel again complains about macarons being good but not very filling when he has some in the City of Flowers/Fleur City. To this, Azul asks, "Why do you look so unimpressed, Epel? I thought macarons were your favorite food. [...] But was my intel mistaken? Would you prefer something with a stronger flavor profile?" Epel insists he is fine, and Azul responds with, "Excellent, then my intel bears out." This creates some confusion over whether Epel actually likes macarons or not. I doubt that the information Azul has on others is inaccurate. Plus, Epel states of his own free will to the player (who is interviewing him) that he also likes macarons. This leads me to believe that while Epel doesn't outright hate macarons, he does like them alright (but still prefers grilled meat more). The only thing he seems to have an issue with is how unsubstantial macarons are as a food item.

Now... why does Vil make him state that macarons are his favorite food instead of grilled meat? It's sort of touched on in Epel's Ceremonial Robes vignettes. In them, Vil chides Epel for his poor table manners and asks him to state his favorite food. Epel responds with grilled meat/barbeque, which earns him a smack from his dorm leader. (Vil actually smacks Epel multiple times in these vignettes as punishment, which ended up being another source of ire in the English-speaking part of the fandom; such a thing is more common in Asia and its media, so it's not seen as too outrageous in Japan.) "Do my ears deceive me?" Vil says. "I could've sworn I heard a word unfit to be spoken in this noble dorm. I will ask you again. As a student of Pomefiore–a dorm founded upon the tenacity of the Fairest Queen–what is your favorite food?" From this dialogue, it can be surmised that Vil's reasoning for drilling the macarons in as Epel's favorite food is because it is something that is more befitting of the regal "image" of the Fairest Queen and the dorm made in her honor. Vil seems to regard grilled meat as an inelegant food which does not suit the Fairest Queen nor Pomefiore.

The second thing the asker brought up is Epel's soft-spokeness. I guess I'm a little confused by this??? Soft-spokeness is a part of being polite; it ties back to volume control (ie "indoor voice" being softer than "outdoor voice"). I also don't recall a specific instance of Vil chastising Epel for NOT being soft-spoken at all times. He allows Epel to be loud sometimes and raises his voice himself. I feel like volume is not something that Vil harps on as much as other things like cursing or speaking politely to the correct authority figures (unless, of course, volume is important to the level of politeness required for the current conversation). I could be wrong on this though, so please let me know if you know of any specific instances of Vil being mad about Epel speaking loudly that I may have missed! What I do find odd is how... consistently (?) Epel tries to keep polite even when Vil is not around to monitor him. When Vil and Epel first met, Vil makes it clear that there is a "time and place" for Epel's accent, and it's not when addressing seniors. So... by the logic, shouldn't Vil be okay with Epel acting more relaxed or rowdy around first years or more casual settings in general? Why does Epel need to maintain the facade of being polite even when not in the presence of his superiors? Why does Epel seem to even act fearful about word of his misbehavior/rudeness getting back to his dorm leader and even make others swear they won't divulge the incidents to Vil?

One theory I'll propose is the entirety of book 5. Vil was insistent then on having Epel in the NRC Tribe. He wanted to weaponize Epel's cuteness, which he believed could compete with his long-time rival, Neige. This probably fed into Vil's demands for Epel to appear and act dainty and innocent, traits which Neige effortlessly possesses. Vil literally even refers to Epel as his "Poison Apple" that will help him defeat Neige. After book 5, Vil seems to have eased up on his rigidity. However, I will caution that this explanation may or may not align well with vignettes and/or event stories, which do not always work in a cohesive timeline with the main story.

Perhaps a more all-encompassing explanation is... this is probably because Vil is just very strict about how his dorm members present themselves at all times, since they are expansions of Pomefiore and of himself as the leader. Both the macarons and Epel's attitude are reflections of the dorm he (a celebrity who is very aware of the public eyes on him + his reputation) is affiliated with, and Vil won't have them poorly represented. He is the dorm leader, so he has the "right" to rule and impose his ideals as he sees fit. It's a similar situation to Riddle forcing the Heartslabyul students to follow silly, nonsensical rules (because they're tradition) or risk a scolding or a beheading. And again, Epel is following along because (as established in book 5), he has agreed to submit to Vil’s orders until he beats Vil in combat.

At the end of the day, I don't think Epel being forced to call macarons his favorite food is a huge deal. Is anything that big lost in claiming you like something that isn't your actual favorite food? It's not like Vil is forcing Epel to claim he likes eating something that would actually harm him (like, if Epel had an almond allergy or something).

What's more dubious is how VIl governs Epel's attitude and temperament at seemingly all times (to the point of eliciting some apprehension from Epel). Given the most generous reading, maybe it's Vil's way of teaching Epel maturity and how to keep his voice down since Epel had zero of it and acted loudly brazen when he first enrolled. It doesn't help Epel if he's quiet and well-mannered in very limited social situations; it has to be "generalized" or expand to other scenarios for Vil's lessons to truly be instilled in him. (Like... what would happen if Vil DIDN'T hold Epel in check? His classmates would not be able to understand Epel's speech, and he might get into trouble by picking fights with others.) This is a life skill that Epel lacks, unlike his grandma and the Harveston mayor, and Vil's teaching it to him via "tough love" (though whether you approve of his methods or not is up to interpretation). Recall that Vil also teaches Epel to embrace femininity as its own strength and to disregard outdated gender norms--this could be considered another "lesson". I doubt that anything Vil imposes is done maliciously, but rather comes from a place of wanting others to be better and to shine their brightest, even if that path is difficult or painful. Epel, as the rebel in this circumstance, of course does not enjoy being told what to do and misbehaves in small ways. There’s a limit on how much he can misbehave though, as it would hurt his pride to be reminded of his failure to one-up Vil. He's like a kid that doesn't want to be caught cussing or acting out by his parent. It can be seen as immaturity and an unwillingness to change or to grow up, but it can also be seen as someone who wants to freely be able to express themselves or to be their "truest" self. Epel is rowdy and headstrong, and it's difficult for him to repress these parts of himself. Given the least generous reading, Vil is oppressing and stifling Epel in many ways that extend beyond what his dorm leader position should reasonably allow him to do. In fact, a popular fan translation for book 5 is "The Beautiful Oppressor", as Vil is frequently shown limiting the liberties of his NRC Tribe members during their training arc, not just Epel's.

Which is the truth here? Why do those in the English side of the fandom decry Vil's actions and side with Epel whereas the Japanese side see little issue with this?

I wager that this predominantly comes down to, again, cultural differences. Many English-speaking fans are based in the west (particularly the USA and Canada, where the EN servers first launched), places which emphasize individuality and self-expression. Of course they would be more likely to take Epel's side, as he's the one trying to be himself and stand out in his own way. Meanwhile collectivism--an ideology which stresses conformity with a group--dominates in the east. They are more likely to see no problems with Vil's actions because, to them, he is acting in the ways he is to "guide" Epel and show him how to best "fit in" with Pomefiore and at NRC. I believe the whole "being soft-spoken" thing also ties back to cultural differences; speaking loudly is something else that can be considered rude in Japan, so it's entirely possible that Vil encouraging Epel to be soft-spoken is another element of politeness that did not translate well to English (as the western world tends to be much louder and more animated in their conversations).

What it boils down to is that the way Vil and Epel's relationship was written did not work well for a western audience, whose values and perspective is VERY different from the original audience TWST had. It appeals far more to a Japanese fanbase than a western one, and has resulted in many misunderstandings or anger about Vil's character because of this.

I'm not sure if I managed to adequately explain everything, but I hope that this at least helps you to see from a different perspective!!

#twst #twisted wonderland #Vil Schoenheit #Epel Felmier #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #harveston sledathon spoilers #Marja Felmier #notes from the writing raven #question #book 5 spoilers #twst en #twisted wonderland en #Neige LeBlanche #Azul Ashengrotto

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comatosebunny09 · 2 days

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what’s done is done (and done again) | leon k.

summary: somehow, you figure you've been here before. and, somewhere far off, he knows you've been here before, too. genre(s): romance, drama, angst, modern au warning(s): female anatomy described, mentions of bodily fluids, dry humping, explicit language, profanity, praise kink, implied character death, mentions of decay and blood notes: it's a fuckin’ time loop. based off this post i made a little while ago. inspired by the time traveler's wife and happy death day. thank you for reading, darling! now playing: if you let me - alina baraz

You’re in the briefing room, fighting for your life.

Almost face-plant into your notebook a few times. Doesn’t help that it’s warm and dim, and you haven’t had your coffee.

Your supervisor decided it would be an excellent time to bore you all half to death as if you weren’t already constantly putting your lives on the line. Something about Operational Security violations running rampant throughout your organization.

Blah, blah, blah.

Of everything you’ve faced thus far, death by PowerPoint would be such a way to go.

“Long night?” bleeds in a voice from your right. Your savior.

You look at Leon, all wild-eyed, like you’ve been caught doing something nefarious. He smiles in reply, all boyish and unguarded. Watches you like you’ve said something funny or like he could just eat you up. Whatever the context, you enjoy the attention. You always do when it comes from your partner.

Your face begins to tingle with warmth. But you mask your embarrassment with a half-smile and an elbow to his rib.

“You would know,” you mouth back, careful not to alert your supervisor.

Leon smiles a little wider. Chuckles low and abrasive, leaning back in his chair with folded arms. Gives you a nice little view of the veins that live there and the muscle lurking beneath the cuffed sleeves of his shirt.

He catches you staring in his peripheral, and the smugness he radiates is palpable. No one’s the wiser when he grazes your leg with his under the table. Sets little goose pimples alight on your skin when he pitches himself forward to grip your quad.

You take to messing with some frayed edges of your notebook, tucking your goofy, lopsided smile within its pages. Mind suddenly colors with memories of last night. Labored breaths, sweat, heat, and your tongue coiled around his name.

Your body hums, and you pinch your thighs together to ward off the pleasant rush of endorphins between. He squeezes and winks, smile lines bracketing his mouth as he returns his attention to the mindless dribble of your boss.

What a long night, indeed.

“Dinner?” Leon simply asks over the blue light of your monitor.

It feels like more of a statement than a request. Like he knows you’d never deny him as he presses the lid of your laptop closed with a definitive click!

You sit back in an easy slouch in your rolling chair. Cross your arms, looking every bit of smug-read-annoyed, and you eye him warily.

“Only dinner?”

That grin is back. All dimpled and crinkly-eyed as he props himself against the oakwood of your desk. Bathed in the ethereal glow of the setting sun bleeding into your window, he laughs something guttural. You’re the cheekiest little shit when you wanna be.

“No promises,” he admits with a shrug. Exudes sex even without trying.

You regard him for a moment. Keep him on edge, though both of you already know the answer. Doesn’t mean you can’t make him squirm with the prospect of your potential rejection.

You clear your throat after a brief stare down. Feign indifference as you smooth out your sleeves and trousers.

“Your place or mine?”

Like you’d ever say no.

Your place.

It’s always your place, but you can’t complain. You live on the quieter side of town, tucked away from the cacophony of the city and your nosy-as-all-hell coworkers.

Besides, it’s all cozy inside. Decked out with mood lights and earth tones and enough plants to rival a greenhouse.

Leon likes it this way. How it distracts him from the bleakness of your jobs. The ever-looming premise of death and decay and corruption. So, you never bother to change it. It’s his little piece of heaven.

You’re his little piece of heaven.

Speaking of which—

“Stop it!” you half squeal, half giggle, spatula in one hand, a fistful of soft blonde in the other.

The sound of your collective merriment carries from the kitchen. Sepia-toned with smooth jazz leaking from the soundbar.

Leon’s chuckle vibrates your skin. Hands are a searing hot and homely pressure, perched on your waist. Lips blister kisses down the slope of your shoulder, and his hair tickles your neck.

“Can’t help myself. ‘sides, you had a little sauce on your neck. Had to—” Kiss. “—clean it up for you.” Suck.

“Bullshit.”

“Mmmm, honest,” Leon drawls in a way that makes your knees shake, and you feel the sound of it pooling in your loins.

He proceeds to do terribly distracting things with his mouth on your neck whilst his hands embark on a journey down your thighs. They bunch up the lace of your dress on their excursion, making way for his fingers to tiptoe between your legs, gripping meaty thigh until your flesh craters between.

“Leon.”

You huff out something between a laugh and a pleasured sigh. An eager hand instinctively curls around his nape, and you find yourself mindlessly grinding against him. Eyes shutter closed, head falls back into the pocket of his shoulder. Around a smile, you breathe,

“I worked really hard on this. You don’t let me finish, I’ll kick your ass.”

That doesn’t deter him. Not in the slightest. Never does, and he snickers something sinister. Eases his grip on your thighs northward until the knuckles of his thumbs graze the seat of your panties. You shiver. Almost say, fuck dinner.

“Thought you were on the menu.”

You snort, gripping the counter’s edge for leverage and shoving back. Leon stumbles a few steps away, all blown wide pupils and a peachy color dusting his cheeks. Looks at you like a kicked puppy. That wobbly lip nearly does it for you.

“Later,” you promise.

Leon has a sweet tooth. You always give him dessert.

It’s a mire of sounds.

Your voice, high and light. Leon’s, deep and abrasive. Your collective laughter and pleasured sighs intermingle in your bedroom whilst music croons in the background.

He’s got you where he wants you. Straddling his lap on your bed like a good girl, swathed in the subtle moon glow of the room. Has his lips latched onto your throat and his hands eagerly mapping out the contours of your body.

Your dress is bunched around your hips. Straps spilling down your arms, head thrown back, lids shuttered. He has this way of whittling you down to incoherencies like no one ever has.

Who would’ve thought your goofy little Leon could be such a sex symbol?

He grips your waist, encouraging you to grind against him. Hard and heavy, and he radiates heat through the confines of his slacks. He feels so good and big, and you might just cum from the sensation alone. From the proximity. From the dangerous gravel of his voice as he murmurs every level of filth into your ear.

So good for me.

Already wet, and I haven’t even taken your panties off.

Naughty baby.

You might cum before I even get it inside.

You would fully surrender yourself to him—to his palms kneading your breasts and the calluses of his thumbs scraping pleasantly over your nipples—if not for a series of buzzing sounds emanating from your nightstand.

Again.

“God dammit,” you sigh, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck that,” Leon husks, licking up the column of your throat. Desperation wades beneath the surface of his tone. Possessiveness. Desire. “Fuck the phone. I want you. Need you.”

It’s hard to argue when he gazes at you like that, with hooded eyes and furled lashes. And he’s drunk off the feel of you. Begging. Dipping his head down to close his lips around your pebbled nipple, and it’s like you’ve been struck by white lightning.

“Fuh-huck.”

He groans against your tit, matching the undulation of your hips with a roll of his own. You cling to him for dear life, your pussy leaking and swollen against the seam of his trousers, mouth parted, and lips shining with spit.

Try as you might to ignore it, the insistent humming of your phone leaks through the static of your brain.

“Fuck, Leon, I gotta…I gotta take this,” you gasp, scrambling for the nightstand. Whoever’s calling doesn’t know the meaning of peace.

Leon doesn’t relent. Has a mouthful of tit, flittering his tongue over your nip and eyeing you wantonly and fucking groaning like you’re the tastiest morsel to ever grace his tongue.

A familiar voice bleeds through the receiver as you bite your lips against a whine.

“Hey!” trills your coworker, all shrill and uncomfortably cheery despite the hour. Cheryl from HR. You should’ve known.

Play it cool. Though it’s exceedingly difficult with the object of your desires fucking you through your clothes.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Girl, I think I left my purse in your car.”

You blanch.

You picked her up for lunch. Of course, she left it.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Think my ID’s in there. Can’t get into the office in the morning without it. You know they’re tired of me losing that thing.” Sigh.

A groan swells in your chest. You’re at odds with yourself. Slap a hand over your forehead, cursing whatever higher being decided to bless and punish you tonight.

Fitfully, you wrestle yourself free from Leon’s arms. Giggle as you stumble off the bed, and Leon lunges for you. You easily dodge, tiptoeing towards the entrance. Give him a placating smile halfway through the threshold, silently promising to finish what you’ve started once you’re done.

Hurry back, he mouths around a pout. The furrow of his brows almost makes you clamber back onto his lap. But you’re a Good Samaritan. Sometimes. And you’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t find Cheryl’s purse.

Soundlessly, you whisk through your home towards the garage. Ease into the driver seat of your car, the door slamming shut behind. You locate her purse on the passenger side floor with laser precision. Hard not to see it when it’s gaudy and pink like that.

You rummage through it, mindful of its contents. Find her ID soon after, turning over the cool plastic in your hand to confirm.

“It’s in here.”

She releases a weighted sigh on the other end of the phone.

“I can meet you at the front gate in the morning to give it to you.”

“Girl, thank you! You’re a lifesaver!”

You tamp down a smile. Tuck your bashfulness into your shoulder. Cheryl’s infectiously chipper. A nice change of pace to the depressing humdrum of your profession.

“Yeah, yeah. See you in the morning.”

“See ya!”

When she hangs up, you ease her purse into your glove box. Nestle it between pistol mags and your badge for safekeeping.

You glance at your phone. Squint against its brilliance, and it’s a quarter to midnight. Fuck. Another sleepless night.

A quiet smile crests over your lips when you catch sight of your Home Screen. Of course, it would be Leon. With an adorably cheesy dog filter, and he’s all baggy-eyed and uncharacteristically happy on the screen. You’ve gotta get back to him. Left him all hard and leaking in your bed.

You reach for the crisp door handle, mind abuzz with thoughts of Leon, Leon, Leon.

But then there’s an explosion of colors. Yellow and orange seeping into red. A sound that’s deafening and robs you of all thought. White hot pain wading over your skin. And then…

Well, then, there is nothing.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic

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epiclamer · 2 days

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This is the post you all have voted for… (i settled for smutty hurt x comfort since you guys were so close)

@save-the-villainous-cat happy two year anniversary baby <3

It wasn’t the end of the world, Villain had been injured in battle countless times before and it was never a problem. But, god, there was so much blood.

They weren’t a very optimistic person by nature, but things had never looked worse for them than at this precise moment. Stumbling blindly through friendly, neighbourhood complexes and past steadily blurring townhouses. Villain could practically feel their demise impending.

“Hey there, stranger~” The criminal gulped, eyes shooting around like a cornered animal looking for an escape. “You’re in pretty rough shape to be standing on two feet…”

Their eyes locked in on a figure—somewhere at the back of their mind they were flooded with a sensation of ease, though they couldn’t quite pinpoint why. They continued to stumble forwards and practically into the stranger’s arms anyways, for whatever reason it felt right.

“Easy— Easy there, Villain… just relax I’ve got you, I’ll take good care of you, huh?”

Warmth spread through the criminal’s mind at the sound of the other’s voice, then down into their muscles before seeping deep to their bones. They blinked and when they opened their eyes again they were laying in a tub, their feet resting at the tap where hot water poured down and into the bath.

For a moment they panicked, but a hand found its way to their shoulder and grounded them back to the present. They knew that hand, they knew that touch.

Hero.

“I’ve got you, baby~” They teased, grinning from ear to ear as they fiddled with the temperature to the water with their free hand.

It all came rushing back to the villain; the fight they had picked with their superior—on purpose—and whatever hope they had left dragging their feet to the hero’s house in a desperate attempt for attention survival.

Hero’s touch was warm where it laid by their collarbone, heating the skin to a feverish degree as it began stitching the villain back together. See, Hero’s powers only worked through touch (something the villain had learned a very long time ago purely on accident), but as much as their touch held only kindness, it did not extend to their healing abilities.

Because, god, did it ever hurt. Painful in some sick and horribly pleasurable way that Villain couldn’t seem to stop craving.

Their collarbone snapped back into place, the bone mending itself back together and their eyes flew open along with the sob that was wrenched from their throat. They flailed, partially to escape the hero’s torturous touch, partially to fall further into their grasp.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay… deep breaths remember?” The crime-stopper’s hand moved down their chest, giving their upper half the gift of a breath as they pained the rest of them.

The villain’s relief was only present for a fleeting moment, as they felt the hero’s fingertips trace the edges of the gash to their chest. Already the ripped skin pulled taught and their torn muscles seized up, under command of the other’s touch.

Villain knew what was coming.

They squirmed, the bath water submerging their legs in its warm embrace, Hero’s hand teasing at their wound, they couldn’t help but try and pull away. “Please—”

The hero shushed them, bringing their free hand to cup the villain’s chin. “I’ll be quick, I promise.” They pressed their hand flat against the gaping hole that should have been the villain’s abdomen, jolting them.

Villain screamed, it was dry and rugged, they recoiled from their nemesis but the only other thing there to hold them was the bath water. “Please, H-Hero, please—” Three more seconds and the criminal was sure to pass out.

Then it stopped. Before the villain could beg again, before they could lose consciousness, the pain stopped.

Cautiously, the villain’s eyes fluttered open, their enemy smiled sweetly back, fingertips now tracing the completely untouched abdomen of the villain’s. They looked normal, they looked okay, even after everything the hero had managed to restore them to their previous glory.

“You okay, gorgeous?”

Villain’s eyes met the hero’s once more, they were gentle yet somewhat mischievous. They nodded, brain completely fogged, maybe from the pain, most likely from the hero’s distracting gaze.

The area still pulsed with the ghost of a previous slash, but there was nothing, just the heat from the hero’s hands. It left a sweet aftertaste on their exhausted mind.

“Think you can handle another round tonight?” They waggled their eyebrows in emphasis, removing one hand to shut off the water to the bath as it began to cover the villain’s stomach.

Villain glared, but only for a moment, some of their usual snideness returning to their demeanour. “Can y-you be a little nicer?”

Hero hummed, eyes glued to their own hands as they made their way down to the inside of the criminal’s thighs, their hands beginning to resume their previous healing glow even under the water. “Really? I thought you liked it rough?”

The villain’s cheeks turned red, but they didn’t have time to retort before the hero placed their hands back against their skin and shut them up with a moan.

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baby-fever-anon · 3 days

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YouTube Clickbait Faces

Inspired by this post by @wolflyndraws :3

wc: 1727

Teagan has been out of the hospital for a week, and Dream has realized he has no photos of her with George.

He's taken pictures of her while she was in the hospital. He took pictures of George in the hospital.

But he doesn't have any of them together.

Which, to be fair to him, isn't really his own fault. For the first week or so of her being in the hospital, they weren't allowed to hold her at all.

And in the time they were allowed to hold her, they were both more focused her and spending time together than they were about taking photos.

As a result, the closest thing to a photo of George and Teagan he has is one of George watching her in her little incubator.

It's a good photo. A great photo even. But it makes Dream sad.

He needs more pictures of the two that will make him happy.

It's this thought process that leads him to pull out his phone during a moment of downtime.

He aims the camera at where George is laying, flat on his back with Teagan lays on his chest.

The shirt George is wearing is dumb. In the best way possible.

It says "Spawn Point" in cluncky, pixelated letters. It was a gag gift from Sapnap but George, like the nerd he is, immediately fell in love with it and has taken to wearing it constantly.

He says it's comfortable, and Teagan seems to agree with the way she's clutching the fabric in her small fists as she sleeps.

George himself looks asleep, eyes closed and breathing even, but Dream can tell he's not from the uneven pattern of his breaths.

He manages to snap two quick photos before George peaks his eyes open to look at him.

George rolls his eyes and smiles.

Dream prepares to take another photo, wanting to capture George's fond smile.

However, as he's clicking the button, George drops his mouth open. He brings his hands up and presses them against his cheeks as he widens his eyes in faux shock.

It's the typical YouTube thumbnail face.

The photo is taken.

"George, what the hell." He asks, voice incredulous.

George is giggling to himself, clearly amused by his own antics.

"I was trying to get cute pictures. Not whatever that was." Dream whines, not actually upset.

"L." George responds through his seemingly endless laughter.

The shifting of George's chest as his laughter rouses Teagan. She squirms as she wakes, letting out a soft whimper.

George stops laughing in an instant. He turns his attention to where Teagan has continued whimpering quietly.

"Oh, baby... " He coos. "You're ok. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Dream takes another picture as George works soothe Teagan back to sleep.

☆

As Teagan is getting older waking up in the morning is getting easier.

She's not quite sleeping through the night yet but she's getting close. Close enough that Dream and George are able to get enough sleep that they don't feel completely dead.

This also means that they, George especially, are in much better mood first things in the morning.

Dream is eternally grateful for this fact when he walks into the kitchen.

George is already up with Teagan, having gotten up when she did.

Currently, He's holding her in his arms. He's swaying back and forth and bouncing in circles.

He's humming under his breath as he does so. When Dream listens in a little harder he recognizes the tune of Kind of Love. The knowledge makes him feel fuzzy.

Teagan is giggling like mad, her little face lit up with joy.

He pulls out his phone. He wants to capture the moment so he can play it on repeat whenever he's sad or mad or even just if he wants to.

He manages to record in silence for thirty seconds before Teagan's loud laughter causes him to laugh. He's not able to contain it, the joy of the two people he loves more than anyone else bringing him joy.

The noise causes George to whip his head around. The smile on his grows when he sees Dream.

George turns his body towards him and holds Teagan out in front of him as if he's handing her to him.

There's still a large smile on her face and the sight of her daddy makes her kick her feet and squeal excitedly.

Dream ends the video and takes a quick photo.

At the sound of the camera shutter George's jaw drops open and he widens his eyes.

"George," He mutters, exasperated. "Stop making YouTube click bait faces when I'm trying to take a picture."

George drops the face long enough to say "Just take the picture, idiot." before returning to the face.

Dream rolls his eyes and takes the picture.

After he does so George rushes forward. He hands Teagan to Dream and snatches Dream's phone from his hand.

"Good morning, Tea Cup." He mumbles to her as he presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

George let's out a laugh.

"This is epic." He mutters, looking at the photos. He turns to show the phone to Reagan. "Look, baby! That's you!"

☆

For the past week or so, Teagan has been attempting to stand on her own.

She's gotten pretty close, managing to use the couch or a chair or just about anything she can get her tiny hands on to pull herself on her feet.

That's about as far as she can get though. The second she let's go she falls on her butt.

She doesn't let it discourage her, simply letting out a frustrated huff before trying again.

It both excites and terrifies Dream.

Excites because it's a new mile stone. She's growing up and learning new things!

But also she's growing up. She's growing so quick and before long she won't be his tiny little baby anymore.

There's also the added factor of how much more potential mischief she'll be able to get into once she's not longer restrained to crawling.

Him and George are watching her attempt now. She's already tried four times and she's getting increasingly frustrated each time.

As time goes on, he's getting increasingly worried that she's going to work herself into a tantrum.

As he watches her slowly pull herself up, he decides that if she falls again he's going to scoop her up and distract her. Redirect her attention until she's calm enough to try again.

He watches as Teagan pulls herself to her feet. She wobbles for a moment before she's able to use her grip on the couch to stabilize herself.

She looks to Dream and George for approval.

"You've got this, baby." George says to her.

She looks back and forth between her feet and the couch. After a moment of contemplation she let's out a determined huff.

Distantly, Dream is amused by the theatrics of their child. It shouldn't be that shocking though, considering how dramatic both he and George can be.

She let's go of the couch and Dream holds his breath as he watches her wobble.

Teagan continues to struggle with balancing herself for a moment before she manages to plant her feet and stand firm.

When she does so she looks back up at them and let's out a soft "ah" of excitement as she bounces gently in place.

George stands up before squatting down beside her. He looks up at dream and says "Take a picture." Before making the thumbnail face.

"Are you serious?" "Yes! This is a big moment take the picture!"

Dream scoffs out a fond laugh as he does as he was told.

After he does it George turns to Teagan and scoops her into his arms. He holds her up above his head. She squeals in excitement.

Dream takes a picture of that too.

☆

Dream has been on the verge of tears all day.

Teagan, his baby girl, has just graduated high school. As in, just walked across the stage and gotten her diploma fifteen minutes ago.

Now Him, George, Sapnap, and the rest of their family are pushing through the crowd looking for her.

Her graduating class is nearly three hundred kids. That combined with all of the parents and family who came means there's a lot of people to sift through.

Thankfully, after just another minute of searching, they find her.

Or really she finds them.

As Dream is scanning the crowd he hears a distant "Dad!" called through the groups of people.

He turns just in time to catch Teagan as she basically throws herself at him.

The two lock into a tight embrace. When he pulls away he cups her face in his palms.

"I'm so proud of you, Tea Cup." He whispers to her as he presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Thanks, dad." She whispers back, tears in her eyes.

The two pull away and she turns her attention to George.

George throws his arms around her shoulders and pulls her close.

He doesn't hear what George says to her but when they pull away their faces are both wet with tears.

Sapnap is up next and her pulls her into a bear hug and ruffles her hair.

She's so much taller than him now. When did that happen? He remembers when her head was just barely past his hip.

After everyone gets their hugs they decide it's time for photos.

When everyone herds Dream, George, and Teagan together they get a few normal ones before George and Teagan make eye contact.

Mischievous grins take over their faces.

"Do the face with us." Teagan says.

Dream rolls his eyes fondly.

Ever since Teagan was old enough to take directions, George has had her doing the click bait face.

It's as amusing as it is infuriating.

He never participated, having decided years ago that it was a mommy and daughter activity that he didn't encroach on.

Now though? With both of the people he loves more than anything looking at him with pleading eyes?

"Fine." He relents, fondly laughing as his daughter and husband cheer at their victory.

With a sigh he places the palms of his hands on his face and barely contains his laughter as he pulls a shocked face.

By the time all of the cameras are put away, all three of them are laughing.

#my writing #dnf mpreg #dnf fanfic #inspired by fanart #this was SO fun to write omg

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apollosfavkiddo · 2 days

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⛧° you promised you’d come back

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: jason grace x pluto!fem!reader blurb

warnings: angst, not a happy ending, interrupted friends to lovers, death of character, really short.

a/n: i know, i know, i have to post the leo fic first. whatever?? i wrote this late night in the hospital in my phone and i cried, so you’re gonna read it and cry too. this one doesn’t even have wc or song cause i literally left it just like i wrote. shits really short. good luck 🫡

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

You didn’t have any news on how the damn quest was going.

No Iris message. No letter. Absolutely no indication that your best friend was still alive. lt was a mix of emotions together, but especially fear.

Fear that maybe he wasn’t alive anymore. Maybe he had finally succumbed to one of those damned quests that your parents put you through, because somehow, they can’t do it on their owns.

But you had to cling to the small light of hope that was alive and that he was okay. After all, he promised you he’d come back.

“Of course i’ll come back, y/n/n. I always do.”

And maybe when you do came back, you thought, i’m finally be able to tell you how much i love you.

But all that hope was completely and totally crushed down the moment that Nico came to your apartment, along with Lester, Meg and Piper.

All of them had a dark and intense gaze, but especially Nico.

You obviously knew about the growing friendship that Jason had with the younger boy. Gods, Jason even talked about him like an older brother talks about his baby sibling.

And that’s when you knew. That’s when it hit you, that’s you’d never see Jason again.

“Y/n… can i come in?” Nico asked, his voice cracked. He instantly cleared his throat and stand up straight, swallowing a lump. “I mean- we. Can we come in?”

You just nodded, the tears already welling up in your eyes.

“Hm… Im really sorry to say this, Y/n, but… Jason didn’t make it. Caligula, he-“ Apollo - Jason’s half brother, cause nothing could be better - said, but you interrupted him with a raise of your hand.

“It’s okay. You didn’t have to come all the way here to talk to me about this. You have a quest to continue, i get it. You can go now.” You said, your voice trying to sound firm and certain.

“Y/n, are you-“ Piper said, reaching out a hand to you.

“Yes.” You said, taking a step back away from her. You and Piper never had the best relationship, and you just thought that she was the last person you’d want around in a moment like this - the girl who first killed Jason. “I’m fine. Really.”

You tried to sound reassuring, but Nico quickly caught in your facade. He cleared his throat again and looked back at the trio behind him. “It’s fine.” He said, and they finally backed off.

Meg was the only one who didn’t. She achtualmy took a step forward and pulled you in to a hug. She was a few inches shorter than you, so it was hard for her, but the hug was very appreciated. You quickly reciprocated, and she finally pulled away. She had puffy eyes and a pout on her lips.

“I’m sorry about him. I know you were close.” She said in a whisper, only to both of you hear, and you smiled. She was sweet. You nodded and whispered back a small ‘thank you’. And then, they finally left.

When you closed the door, you immediately broke into sobs. Your brother was quick to cradle you into his arms, and you just sobbed.

Not that far after, you felt his body also shaking. You didn’t think you ever saw Nico cry, but this was understandable, at least. He was his best friend. He was the best friend to both of you.

“W-why, Nico? It’s- it’s not fair! He’s- he was too young, he-“ You groaned as you sobbed into Nico’s old jacked, damping it completely. Bit you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not when that happened.

He nodded, caressing your back.

He was gone. Jason was gone. Your Jason. Your best friend. The man you were in love with. The person that you grew to admire, looking up to how kind, generous and intelligent he was.

Your favorite person. Your soulmate.

In the end, all that’s left is a broken promise, a crossed heart and a shattered soul.

#all my love 🍀#postcards from leah #jason grace #jason grace angst #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo

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yourlastbraincell-kiwi · 1 day

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A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts and I fixed it up and decided to post it as a little blurb. Enjoy!

No mention of skin color, but the reader is the daughter of Sam Wilson!

Pairing: Peter Parker x samwilsondaughter!fem!reader

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Sam said, walking into the Avengers tower, holding the door open for everyone behind him.

“When do you ever think something is a good idea?” Bucky replied.

“All the time, all the time, but this one right here? Is not it.” Said Sam, as he walked further away from the group, and sat atop of a table.

“Well, this a great opportunity for the both of them.” Steve said.

“For what exactly?”

“Maybe they’ll bond over something and get close with one another.” Natasha replied, sitting next to Sam on the table.

“Yeah, and that’s what scares the hell outta me.” He responded and stood up from the table and began to pace.

Sam has always put an overprotective bubble, over (Y/N). Her being both his only daughter and child, he just wants the best for her. And (Y/N) sees that, but he doesn’t know that she’s losing the opportunity to be a teen.

She wants to go out with friends? It was a lovely day, until she caught him watching her and her friends through some bushes, with goggles and full on camouflage.

Yeah, now she only sees those friends during school hours.

Sleepover with the besties? Yeah, just ready for constant check ups and phone calls. He wants to know what you’re doing 24/7.

And suddenly those sleepover invitations get lost in the mail.

Don’t even get him started on dating. Sam will not allow it, until he’s ran an entire background check on the guy.

Now none of the guys at her school talk with her, everyone sees how protective he is of her. It’s sweet, but also completely unnecessary.

The door swung open as Peter ran inside trying to shove something into his backpack. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Wilson?” Peter asked, feeling nervous and on the verge of sweating.

“Oh, don’t be silly. Call me, ‘sir.’” Sam said, as Natasha game him a look, but he shrugged it off.

“I called you here, because I wanted you to meet someone. She should be here any moment.”

Not too long later, she walked inside the building and Sam immediately stood next to her. “Peter meet-”

“(Y/N)? Hey! How are you?” Peter says, as (Y/N) got closer to him and hugged him tight.

“Hey! I’ve been good!” They both smiled at each other, as they let go of one another, then they both looked away from each other, feeling embarrassed and flustered.

“Sooo.. you too already know each other?” Steve asked, and Peter was quick to answer.

“Yeah, I mean we,” Sam stared at him giving him a slight death glare. “We don’t actually, I don’t know her. Who are you again?” Peter said stumbling over his words, scratching the back of his head.

I rolled my eyes and stepped forward, “Peter and I met in school, he’s a good friend.” I smile at him, as Peter gave me a nervous smile.

“Good, that’s great! How about you two catch up and reminisce about, whatever things teens do these days. We have to have a quick talk with your dad, (Y/N).” Nat told me, I nodded and took Peter somewhere else in the tower.

Once they were out of earshot of everyone else, Peter let (Y/N) know just how nervous and frightened he was.

“He’s gonna kill me isn’t he? Like I know I offended him in some way so like, I might not wake up tomorrow, and-”

“Peter! Relax.. he won’t do anything to you. I promise.” I replied and Peter calmed down almost instantly, and took some deep breaths. “Hopefully..” I murmur to myself, underneath my breath.

“What??” Peter asked, clearly hearing what was said. I laughed running off and he began to chase me around.

#x reader #wattpad #fluff #fluffed up #sam wilson #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #tom holland #black!writer #black!reader #all inclusive #overprotective!sam Wilson

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ninothebirb · 2 days

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WE WERE ONCE ONE

Content Warning: Angst, fluff, implied sex, gn!reader, one sided love, minors dni, cheesy stuff?, mental trauma, etc

Please read the previous chapters (1, 2, 3) and the prologue if you haven't already!

Chapter 4: You and me

Might be the last chapter I think.

You spent the next few weeks locking yourself up, refusing to interact with anyone. Jing Yuan would visit you everyday, only to be told by Bailu that you weren't taking any visitors. Until he snapped, and snuck into your room from the window instead.

"Jing Yuan- seriously?" You threw the pillow you were clutching onto, on his face. "Hey, I can't stand seeing you like this." He rolled his eyes, shrugging off the pillow and walking over to your bed. "I'm pissed at you. So much." His tone changed almost immediately, it was somewhat a mix of worry and frustration.

"Why are you angry? I should be pissed at you, not the other way around." You glared at him, those gorgeous orbs of yours were hurt. He could see it, he could see the pain behind them. "Fuck (reader) you don't get it...you just wouldn't move on! You- went ahead and blindly depended on his existence- without considering any fucking factors!!"

This was the first time you had heard him raise his voice, and your natural reaction was to flinch. "Do you have any idea- how much I care for you- how much I worry every time for your mental fucking state. I wish that we would go back to them time when you trusted me with your life!" His hands were gripping your shoulders tight by now, trembling and shaking.

You were speechless, Jing Yuan, the smug general was on the verge of tears in front of your very eyes. "You refused to- to even hear what I had to say a-and- you left me alone- I hate you so much for that, but I fucking love you too." The intensity of the moment was eating you up, you thought he was the one without any suffering. Turns out this man had been going just as crazy as everyone in the post high cloud quintet.

"Y-You- you what?! Jing Yuan- you know I've devoted my whole being to Dan Feng how could you ever-" You were suddenly interrupted by him pulling you close to his heart, and you could hear his sniffles and sobs. "Please...give me a chance-" Nothing could describe the amount of emotions you were feeling. Confusion? Anxiety? Whatever it was, it was incomprehensible.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, his heartbeat was loud and his crying had fainted away. "You're an idiot." You mumbled against his chest softly, not sure how to respond to what he had just said. You gently retracted from the hug when you got no answer, only to find out he had fallen asleep.

The thought of Jing Yuan liking you all this time led you to a plethora of confusing thoughts. He had been your best friend- but you never saw him in that way. But- your heart worked in a different way. Being so deprived of affection and the feeling of being wanted for all these years made you have second thoughts.

You placed a blanket on him, and walked over to your balcony, indulging in the unsolved puzzle that your mind had turned into. You glanced back at Jing Yuan, going into a completely different relationship wasn't the best idea- but it was something you desired deeply. Dan Feng had moved on- going so far as to change his name. He didn't do it on purpose however, his memories had been wiped out.

Maybe...you needed some change. Maybe you could give this a chance and let yourself go for the time being. After all- you could never had predicted at that time what a future could uphold, so you couldn't predict it now either.

After a few hours, Jing Yuan had woken up with you sitting by his side. "I'm sorry..." He whispered softly, getting up. "Why?" You placed down the book you were reading, he was about to leave. You immediately grabbed a hold of his hand, making him stop in his steps. "I really shouldn't have said all that I-"

Your lips were now connected in a soft and sensual kiss, it was a gentle touch between you two. As if nothing mattered in that very moment except for you and Jing Yuan. He was left gaping after the kiss- completely jaw dropped. "I...thought about it- I s'pose...we can try.." You spoke so gently, walking up closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you once again- keeping you in his embrace. But this time it wasn't for comfort- it was to share what you had made. Together.

And that very night you guys fuck. Be top or bottom you can imagine whatever you want.

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