#// her calling him rain = cause of death | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catharsisfire · 2 years

Text

caught in the spider’s web (m.) 18+

Simon “Ghost Riley x Reader

“I’ll let you have sex with me.” It’s stated so plainly and so forwardly that it sounds less like a negotiation offer and more like a proclamation.

“Fucking hell.” Ghost shoots back, his tone barely containing the hint of bewilderment in his voice.

Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, inappropriate relations with your superior, orgasm denial, degradation, teasing/taunting, Ghost being kinda mean, also slight!Soap x Reader (just some flirting tho)

Word Count: 5004

A/N: i’m down absolutely bad for this man, so down bad i cant stand up, also thinking of making a pt. 2 and maybe a Soap version tbh so lemme know if you’re interested in that!

Inspo taken from this tiktok audio by dxcrxpit

Gif is not mine

She’s got to blame someone for this; Graves will take the fall for now, until she finds the Shadow that shot her in the thigh and she’ll personally take the fall for being stupid and diving off the road onto a muddy cliff, tumbling the entire way down. Ungracefully, one may add. It’s unfortunate, truly, the turn of events that have now left her alone and in the pouring rain, leaking blood onto the pavement, but life is nothing if not one shitty plot twist after another.

The comms had been radio silent since she fell, with no one calling or checking in, no sign of Ghost or Soap anywhere, so she finds an empty alley, mind set on damage control. It’s nothing to reach behind her and grab the back of her balaclava and pull it over her head, but it’s the feeling of the wet fabric sliding and sticking to her face as she pulls it off that makes her grimace. “Gross,” she mutters lowly with her hands wrapped tightly around the fabric, wringing out her sweat and the rain. Her back braces on the stone wall behind her and she slides down slowly until she’s sitting on the cobblestone road. [Y/n] lets out a shaky exhale as she reaches her hands down and begins to undo her belt, sliding it off in a quick jerking motion and then proceeds to fold her balaclava into a makeshift bandage before laying it over the wound on the outside of her left thigh. The belt is then used to tighten the balaclava down, applying pressure to keep bleeding to a minimum while she finds her way out of this shit fest. It takes her a second of sitting and fidgeting with the tightness of the belt before she decides to slink her way back up the wall again to stand.

“Alright,” She breathes heavily, talking to no one but herself, “we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” She laughs lightly under her breath and her hand makes its way to where her sidearm had been just moments before her tumble, only to find it gone. “Fuck me,” she whines, head falling back onto the stone wall behind her dejectedly, “hard way it is then.”

[Y/n] makes quick work of pushing off the wall and beginning to limp slightly farther down the alleyway, clicking through the channels on her comms as she goes, until Ghost’s voice pierces through her ears causing her to stop.

“Soap- This is Ghost. How copy?” There’s a moment of silence that registers for a second too long and she feels her blood run cold when there’s no response. “Johnny…?” No response. “Johnny… How copy?”

“Solid.” Soap’s response comes quickly and she lets out a relieved exhale. [Y/n] is quick to glance around, trying to find the easiest way down and out and she thinks for a second too long before throwing caution to the wind and her legs move into a slight skip before picking up into a run into a shop across the road.

“You injured?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Life or death. Keep your blood in, you’ll need every drop.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Spider. How copy?” She hears him, vividly so, but her mind is too sidetracked to reply. To focused on finding a way out whilst sneaking up to the Shadow in front of her. She quickly grabs onto the knife that's strapped and sheathed to her lower back and imbeds it into the juncture of the Shadow’s neck, twisting and pulling harshly to retrieve it from his skin as she moves to lay the body to the ground silently.

“Kid,” His voice more demanding now, “how copy?”

“Alive.” She pants evenly through the receiver.

“Thought we lost you there, kid.”

“Never. I’m gonna live forever L.T, remember?” She laughs breathily.

Sometimes she catches Price staring at them with some far off solemn look in his eyes. A certain softness laced with ‘what if’ that you could only catch if you were genuinely looking for it and it startles her every time, making her feel a bit guilty that he cares so much for them. Guilty to know that if one of them died he’d be heartbroken.

“Stop staring at us like that.” She lowly speaks to him, her words taking on a teasing edge as she stares at the Captain.

“Like what?”

“Like we’re terminal cancer patients.”

“I do no-“

“I’m gonna live forever, Captain.” She interrupts so matter-of-factly before lifting her left hand and jamming her thumb in the direction of Ghost to her left, “And you can’t kill a Ghost.” Her thumb falls only for her index finger to point over at Soap who’s sitting on her right side, “And Soap,” she begins, “well Soap can’t die because we fuckin’ told him not to.”

“Copy that, Sergeant.” Price responds with a tilt at the edge of his mouth. Almost a smile, she notes.

Ghost peers down at her from where he’s seated next to her and she looks up at him with a smile present in her eyes and nods once in his direction in confirmation. Her black balaclava does nothing to hide her emotions, not when they’re always written right there in her eyes, and he vaguely wonders if she wears it because her face is more of an open book than her eyes appear to be. Yet it’s a thought he buries deep when she winks up at him, her eyes still dancing with humor and he’s turning away, not wanting to be drawn in by her gaze.

“Where are you?”

“There's a church. I’m heading to it. Let’s RV there.” Ghost declares. “You’ll need to improvise to survive.”

“Oh, joy.” comes Spider’s quick retort. She makes hasty work of digging through the dead Shadow’s pockets, taking his knives and his gun before taking a quick once-over glance over him. An idea toys in her mind for a second and she reaches forwards, unclipping the helmet on his head equipped with night vision and immediately puts it on her own and clipping it down, adjusting the strap to fit. The rifle she picked up is then slung over her chest and it rests heavily on her back on top of her armor and she begins her journey away, crouching low and moving to the next building.

“Welcome to guerilla warfare.”

Ghost and Soap continue talking, but [Y/n] had taken to tuning them out, too concentrated on taking down the Shadow’s in her path. One after another they each fell easily from the blades she kept stealing off of their associates corpses and her hands made quick work of ripping the ammo clips from their pockets and depositing them in her own on her vest. It was messy work and the realization that it was no longer sweat and rain wetting her face, but blood as well, did not go unnoticed by her. Her arm was quick to reach up every so often in an attempt to clear her face but it felt only as if it just smeared everything on her face, making a bigger mess.

“Gimme a sit-rep.” Ghost’s request digs her from her concentration, her decision making stopping momentarily and she goes to reply first but Soap beats her to it.

“Outside… Gated alley.”

“Kid, sit-rep?”

“Outside… Alleyway with a few dead Shadow’s.”

“Your handiwork?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Atta girl.” Ghost's quick reply is all she hears and [Y/n] feels her face heat from the praise.

“What can I say? I live to please.” And then she's back to radio silence, she wants nothing more than to get the upper hand here, but she still feels like she’s failing at it. Moving on the ground amongst the Shadow’s hoping to not stumble across one didn't feel right to her, didn’t feel smart. She was a sniper. She yearns for the high ground and distance and she’s been robbed of the one thing she feels like gives her the tactical advantage, so her brain is working overtime to fix it. It’s a mumbled ‘fuck-it’, that has her chancing it and she decides to take to the rooftops. It’s not without difficulty, climbing up to get to the roofs, but the real bitch comes when she has to make the jump from building to building. Each impact making her wince and gnaw at her lip to stop her from groaning at the pain in her leg. But she feels better from here, being able to survey the land and pick the Shadows off from above, thanks to a silencer she klepted off one of them.

“You’re gonna owe me for this.” Came Soap’s voice from the comms but Spider takes note that it echoes, if only slightly and her mind begins turning. No, not an echo. He’s nearby, close enough for her to hear with her ears and the comms piece.

“Why?”

“We’re fixing each other’s problems.”

“What’s my problem?”

“The mask… Take it off…”

“Show my face?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.” Smug bastard. He’s smirking, she just knows it.

“What about you, Spider?” Soap questions, shifting the conversation to include her.

“What makes you think you deserve to see me, Johnny?” She teases back in response, prompting Soap to huff back a simple, “Cold.” into the comms.

“Tell you what,” she propositions, “come find me and I’ll show you anything you want.”

“Both of you, get to the church. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” They both echoed.

It’s not hard for her eyes to catch Soap’s movement, pinning him in her gaze as he maneuvers the alley to her left. Her eyes leave his form as they glance forward to the Shadows ahead of him and she makes the decision to take them out for him. Opting that this was the way to gain a favor for him, having not forgotten how he constantly volunteers her for first watch whenever he can. His reaction is immediate, dropping behind cover and glancing back when he hears the heavy thud of the Shadows bodies hit the ground and he’s looking around to try and find where the shots had come from.

“Who the hell was that?” Soap’s distressed voice rings through the comms.

“It was your guardian angel.”

“Spider? Are you on the roof?”

“Affirmative.” Was Spider’s quick reply, “I’m coming down… Wait for me?”

“Yeah.”

“By the way,” her voice cracks vividly through the receiver, “you get first watch next time Soap. Consider it my payment for saving your life.”

“Spider, you’ve got first watch.” Soap shouts across the room to where [Y/n] is sitting, propped up against a wall with her eyes closed.

“What?” Her eyes fly open in surprise at his statement, “No, I had first watch last time. Switch with me.”

“No.” He tries to sound stern but laughter seeps through the word as he watches her throw her head back into the wall with a thunk and groan lowly at his lack of negotiation with her. After only a few seconds she sighs deeply before lifting her head from the wall and locking eyes with Ghost.

“Switch with me, Ghost.” She whines back exasperated.

“No.” It’s short and curt and she doesn’t let his vague hostility deter her. She wants second watch at least, because right now her eyes feel like someone put sand in them with how horribly tired they feel, with how heavy she is with want for sleep.

“I’ll let you have sex with me.” It’s stated so plainly and so forwardly that it sounds less like a negotiation offer and more like a proclamation.

“Fucking hell.” Ghost shoots back, his tone barely containing the hint of bewilderment in his voice, which is almost completely drowned out by Soap’s loud and shocked, “What!?” from across the room. But [Y/n] watches Ghost’s eyes closely, noting the change that happens within them. His normally cold eyes had taken on a flicker of heat and the burn of his gaze in that moment made her skin itch with want. It had been a joke, a joke with a bit of truth behind it, yet a joke nonetheless, but the fact that he almost seems to consider her offer makes the hair on the back of her stand up and her mouth parched. Price’s cough of disapproval rips through the air, but [Y/n] decides to dig herself in further.

“I’m kidding…” Her easy, nonchalant laughter bounces off the walls of the small room, “Unless… unless you actually will trade with me then maybe we can work something out?” Her voice trails off taking on a slightly higher tone as she shrugs her shoulders and gestures her hands between the two of them vaguely.

“No one is trading sexual favors for watch times.” Interrupts Price’s loud voice, hellbent on stomping out whatever the hell this is that’s going on right now.

“What?” She questions, mildly defensive with an all too innocent tone, “I don’t have anything else to really offer right now. Unless you want my knife,” She adds, shifting her gaze from Price’s scolding and directing the offer solely back to Ghost with a hopeful tone, “Then I’ll give you my knife for second watch.” Her eyebrows raise up beneath her mask and her head tilts slightly forward into Ghost’s direction as if to imply that the deal was getting better.

“No.” Price answers in Ghost’s stead, although the fire behind Ghost’s eyes still does not quell as he continues to stare at her motionless. [Y/n] releases an empty sigh, sliding her eyes closed and throwing her head back into the wall.

“Fuck!” She exclaims roughly in defeat, “Fine.” And Spider picks herself up off of the floor and her hands move to grab the sniper rifle propped against the wall next to where she’d just been sitting. “If any of you need me I’ll be on the roof.” She groans out as she makes her way to the stairs, only stopping to call over her shoulder, “Try not to need me.”

‘Try not to need me.’ It rattles around the empty air downstairs after she’s gone until it sticks in Ghost’s mind. ‘Try not to need me.’ Too late.

It’s well into over an hour of her watch shift when she feels the hair on the back of her neck standing up in defense, when she feels like she's not alone anymore. So she turns her head from where she had been laying prone with her rifle watching the streets below between two cinder block openings on the edge of the roof, just in time to catch sight of Ghost making his way over to where she was, sitting next to her with his back to the cinderblock wall.

“You should be sleeping.” Spider mumbled out to him.

“You should be paying attention.” He motions his head slightly to the roads behind him in direction. He catches the way her eyes roll and he can tell she makes a face beneath her balaclava by the way the skin on the bridge of her nose crinkles up slightly.

“Really useful advice L.T,” She mumbles out deadpanned, he can hear the exhaustion clear in her voice, “you ever thought about writing self help books?”

He only hums absentmindedly in response and an empty silence fills the air between them for only a few seconds before he adds in, “You look tired.”

“Be still my foolish heart,” Spider remarks sarcastically, releasing her hand on her gun and grabbing at the center of her chest, “Ghost, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you just invited me to bed.”

“Obviously you know better.”

Spider hums limpidly in response.

“Go get some sleep. I’ve got the rest of your watch.”

Her head shakes and a simple reply of “no”, is immediately followed by a yawn and she turns her head over to look into Ghost’s eyes again to scold him limply. “Stop talking about sleep, you're making me yawn.”

“You look like you’re gonna fall asleep on watch. A punishable offense if you do.”

“Maybe I wanna be punished,” Spider teases in a tired voice, “help keeps the brain awake.”

“Can’t punish you if you’re dead from falling asleep on watch.”

“Sounds like you have to be proactive, L.T. Punish me in advance.” The fire is back in his eyes and [Y/n] realizes how deep she’s dug herself in this time, and so she does the only thing she can do. Dig deeper. “Are you going to punish me, sir?”

“It’s not a punishment if you enjoy it.”

“A morale booster, then?” She offers instead, “Promoting healthy team relations and engaging in bonding activities with your soldiers can have a positive influence on their morale and mission performance.”

“You think wanting to fuck your superior is healthy?”

“No. I think of it as an investment in the betterment of the team, Lieutenant. I stay awake and they stay alive. A win in my books, if you ask me.”

“Yet I didn’t ask.”

“No sir, you didn’t.” [Y/n] takes her time sitting up onto her knees from the position where she lay and moves over easily to sit next to Ghost, back pressed into the cinderblock wall. She reaches over him, torso pressing dangerously into his thighs as she grabs her bag and begins to riffle through it with a leisurely pace, before drawing out her heartbeat sensor. Within a second she is sitting back upright, hands moving to grasp firmly around the device before powering it on and placing it where she had just been laying watching the streets. She peers back up at him, something burning deeply behind her gaze. The smile normally dancing around in her eyes now gone completely, replaced by something altogether darker, and her voice is serious when she tells him, “But all you have to do is say the word.”

“Fucking hell. You’re a minx, you know that.”

“One of my finer qualities, I believe.” She whispers out breathily. [Y/n] makes slow work of invading his space, leaning in until their faces were only inches apart and throwing her leg across his lap, straddling him. Yet she doesn’t lower herself down, opting instead to reach up and release the latches holding on her body armor effectively slipping it off and dropping it to the side.

“Now, what are you going to do if you get shot at?” His question is fair, but it’s simply meant to tease her so she takes the bait.

“Pray they’ve got bad aim.” She states to him as she sits herself down onto his lap.

“And if they don’t?” He presses further into the hypothetical and his hands move from his sides to rest on the outside of her thighs in a teasingly light grip.

“Then I hope you take mercy on me and save my life.”

“I’m not a merciful man.” He states matter-of-factly, hands working up from their spot on her thighs to start moving up to her belt, where they make slow work of undoing the buckle there. Her exhale is shaky at the motion and she breaks eye contact to glance down as his hands work at their agonizing pace. Taking his time as if he had nothing better to do than make her wait for him.

“Then I hope you’ll make my last moments worthwhile.”

“Hmm,” He ponders curiously, fingers popping the button of her pants open, “do you really deserve that?”

“I’m hoping to win your favor.” She mutters back hopefully as Ghost leisurely pulls down her zipper.

“How do you plan to do that?” Ghost questions her evenly, not a single emotion betraying his voice.

“My dazzling wit and charm?” She’s ready to burst, almost shaking with anticipation as she watches him remove his glove to trace the skin above the edge of her panties.

“Hmm… Try something else.” He remarks mockingly.

“I’m useful.” She declares in a whine, hands reaching forward to braces on his shoulders as her eyes close with frustration.

“How so?”

The air is silent for a second too long and when he feels as though she has no intention of answering back he captures the elastic band of her panties and lets it snap back harshly against her skin. “I asked you a question.”

“I’m… I’m good with a rifle.” She stutters out quickly, “One of the best.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m light on my feet, quick,” She’s trying to think, her mind reeling trying to remember notable attributes of herself but her brain short circuits and she begins tripping on her words the moment he slips his hand into her pants, cupping her heat through her panties. “I-i can get in and out of places without detection.”

“Keep going.” He presses her, hand moving to pull her panties to the side so his finger can run through her slit, collecting the wetness there.

“I’m good under pressure. Rational.”

“Is that right?” He seems to contemplate her statement, weighing the validity of it given the current circumstances as his finger begins to circle roughly on her clit. Her response is almost immediate, choking out a sobbed “yes” as her breath quickens.

“Go on then.” He continued plainly, his voice just as even and level as it always was, even as he slips his finger from her clit down to her entrance and plunges into her.

“I’m…” And she has to stop to take a stuttering, stabling breath before lifting her head up from where it watches his hand work into her so that she can lay her forehead on his and stare into his eyes. “I’m damn good at my job,” her left hand moves from his shoulder to fist into the mask at the back of his neck for support, “you know it's true.”

“My intelligence.” She yelps out before he can even tell her to say another thing.

“What about it?”

“I’m. Very. Fucking. Intelligent.” [Y/n] enunciates between panting moans and gritted teeth, “One… one reason Price wanted me in 141.” Her chest is heaving as she shakes her head lightly to clear her thoughts, a poor attempt to get a cohesive string put together. “He found me as a Private. Fuck me,” She whines, “I was exemplary. The goddamn best at everything. I won him over.”

“How’d you manage that? Your dazzling wit and charm?” Ghost teases her with her own words as his thumb moves to rub at her clit in time with his hands sliding in and out within her. [Y/n]’s eyes flutter for a second at the added pleasure and her hand clenched tighter on his neck, twisting the mask fabric in her grip as she leans forward further into him, pressing her hips down to seek his hands movement. Their noses are touching now, barely any space between their mouths as they share each other's breath.

“The spider spins her web to catch what she wants.” She mumbles out through a shaky keen. “I’m soo useful Lieutenant. M-more useful than you could ever know.” Her eyes looked pleadingly into his as her hips moved in time with his hand, “Please don't stop.”

“You get off on praising yourself, Sergeant?” His voice is so goddamn taunting and the slight shame of it burns her face. There’s no other sounds in the air outside except their back and forth, and the sound of his hand moving within her and the slick wet sound of it has her mind reeling with longing and want.

“You’re m-making me.” [Y/n] counters back, “I’m doing what I’m told.” Ghost makes a noise in acknowledgment to her statement before adding a second finger in, working faster as she begins to drip down his hand.

“Then we’ll add that to the list. The good girl can do as she’s told.” His words of praise are met with her clenching down tightly on his fingers.

He’s startled when he feels the cool, trembling grip of her hand grasping desperately into the bare skin of his wrist beneath his sleeve. There’s something exhilarating about the feeling of her skin on his in this desperate attempt to ground herself to him, with him, when they’re both so covered. And God it feels like fire, feels like every nerve in his body has just been sent into overdrive because all he feels is the cool skin of her hand wrapped firmly around his wrist as her nails dig in sharp and the wet heat of her cunt dripping down his hand.

“You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything you wanted, Ghost.” She rasped back in confirmation, throwing her head back.

Ghost’s free hand shoots up from where it had been holding tightly to her thigh, capturing her chin in a bruising grasp and pulling her head down roughly until her forehead rests back on his. Holding her there until they’ve returned to sharing breath and air and there's almost no space between them, before continuing its journey downwards to her neck. Her eyesight falters then and her eyes slide shut when he squeezes at her neck just right and she preens at the motion.

“Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.” He demands and he squeezes her throat slightly harder at the command and her eyes slide open, teary and tired. “Atta girl.” And she can’t help but whimper lowly at the praise, panting heavily and tightening her hands grip on the wrist working between her legs. “See, that's not so hard, now is it?” He taunts lowly.

“No sir.” Her head is dizzy and her eyes are swimming with tears and pleasure each time he squeezes his hand around her throat, throwing her that much closer to the edge. [Y/n] can't help the choked, “oh God” she releases when his hands decided to speed up, the movement of her hips failing to keep up with his ministrations. The arch of her back makes quick work of closing the space between their bodies as she gets closer and closer, and her hand leaves his wrist in favor of bracing her forearm onto his shoulder for added support.

“You close?” Ghost asks, and had [Y/n] been in her right mind she would have noticed the glint of something devious slide though his gaze, but instead she just nods back with a tender “please” in response too focused on chasing her budding release. Ghost’s hand doesn’t relent in its hurried pace fucking into her, but he seems as if he’s waiting for something. Holding out on something until the last second and as she begins to spasm around his finger he seems to find exactly what he was looking for, exactly what he’s been waiting for.

His hand leaves from within her and off her neck in an instant and before she can register what's happened she hears her zipper being slid back up. It sends a panic straight through her when the thrumming of her body catches up to her brain and she realizes that she’s been left high and dry. He didn’t let her finish.

“Wh-what? Why?” [Y/n] wants to cry and for a second she’s very close to it. She wants to scream at the fizzling out of her high, shaking from denial she looks down just in time to catch Ghost’s hands thread her button back closed and slip her belt through the buckle tightening it. She lifts her eyes up for a second searching desperately for his and she sees a smug laughter swimming behind them before she draws her line of sight back to his hands. Hoping that if she stares at them long enough she can will them back to work, back to finishing her.

“You should go get some sleep.” He declares, adding a firm slap to her ass before holding onto it, and he sounds like he’s genuinely on the verge of laughter, like this was some kind of game he’s playing with her that he’s enjoying just a bit more than she is.

“But-but I didn’t…” And she stutters over her words, unable to form anything reasonable in her denial.

Her hand tries to reach down to where Ghost’s had just left, anticipation and her denied release eating at her bones telling her to finish the job, only to get intercepted before she can complete her goal. Ghost’s hand grips at her wrist tightly, bringing it up to rest in the air between their chests. At the same time his other hand rushes up to grasp harshly at her chin bringing her face up in front of his and he slowly peels his eyes away from her hand after a second to look into her own. The heat in them is different now, taking on a chilling burn that leaves her frozen on the spot beneath his gaze.

“What makes you think you deserve it? This is a punishment, remember? That is what you wanted. What you asked for.”

“Please… ” It’s a pathetic whine, one that he laughs at and her face burns dangerously beneath the fabric on her face.

“Go get some sleep.” Ghost orders again.

“I-i don’t think I can anymore.”

“You will. Consider it a test of your self control.” And when she makes no effort to move from his lap, he cocks his head to the side slightly, adding a taunting, “That’s an order, Sergeant.”

“Th-this isn't over.” [Y/n] states heatedly behind furrowed brows and heavy pants, “I’ll get you back for that.”

“Doubt that.” He husked evenly behind his mask.

Ghost finds her a few hours later when his watch had ended, next to Soap. Both of them sleeping on their backs with her head laid on his shoulder and his arm loosely wrapped around her neck with a light grip on her shoulder.

“He’s got the kid in a headlock.” Ghost remarks to Price.

“That can’t be comfortable.”

#Ghost x reader smut #Ghost smut #Simon riley x reader smut #Simon Riley smut #Ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #Simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut

13K notes · View notes

comfortless · 2 months

Note

Hello! This is the Frankenstein anon back with more praise and another prompt that you might like. Again you are amazing and everyone you come out with stuff, I weep for joy! Please continue what you are doing because it is absolute art✨

Okay onto the prompt. So lately tiktok has been putting onto this telenova drama called Hilda Furcão which is pretty much this priest and prostitute fall in love but due to societal pressures, cannot be together. The YEARNING in this show is amazing and I can’t help but think of Priest Konig in this situation. Imagine he falls in love with reader who works at a brothel but because he’s a churchly man, he’s fighting demons in his head (and down yonder) cuz he YEARNS for her but the lord says no🥴

Please keep doing what you’re doing and I’m constantly cheering you on with your work! ❤️

In the Arms of Flowers

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. pining, lots of talk of religion/silly metaphors, fluff, ridiculous attempts at courtship from both, dark (if you squint), implied cyber stalking, violence/murder, minor character death, some angst, sexual violence (not done by König), König becomes horribly obsessed and reader is fine with it, virgin!König-> oral (both receiving) piv smut.

wc: 11k.

There’s a garden in the churchyard, one that’s always been, even before his vows were taken and the cassock was pulled around his shoulders.

It’s the very place that the arching den window in the clergy house faces out towards, and the very place that an angel descends from Heaven to stalk through night after night.

Even when the thunder clamors and rolls to light up the sky above, the pretty thing is there, kneeling amongst the blooming lilies. A listless sort of purity swallows over her, bathes her in the white of petals and the bright illumination of each bolt of lightning above, arcs a halo over her head like a proper mirage.

The whole town knows these doors remain open, but never does she even look toward the church or the home of holy men at all: only the flowers. The lilies and carnations seemed to be her favorite to haunt, weaving through the petals as they sway for her in breezes like whispers from the pouting lips of cherubim.

He’s prayed for this lost soul many times already; clutched the rosary between his fingers and whispered to the Lord to protect her, to heal whatever aches, to bring her wandering feet into the chapel one of these days. But as most lilies, this one’s beauty is gone away by mid-morning.

Tonight, he wills himself to bring her in for prayer and refuge from the coming rain. Its been a long time coming, and regrettably he’s hesitated at every other opportunity. Nothing’s changed, the scene was so commonplace even the others have commented on it prior.

Maybe he hallucinates her holiness; the halo has become made up of fallen petals now as they arch over the crown of her head where she’s found sprawled out amongst them. She raises herself to sit upright, dusts the dirt from her knees and offers a wary glance with each step he takes until his soles halt in soil that would soon be mire.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave,” the angel breathes out with her eyes darting from his collar down to rest at the expanse of short blades of grass between them. “I don’t mean to cause you any trouble.”

She doesn’t meet the concern in his eyes, and König is no stranger to sin. To the shame and grief that he’s absolved from far worse than her in the stuffy wooden confessional.

��You’re welcome to stay.” A silent prayer rests there in his breath — please stay, though even he wasn’t certain as to why there’s a demand stirring in the pit of his stomach for this woman clad in a dirtied white dress.

She smiles then, gazes right up at him in such a way that immediately sparks something misplaced, something tucked away beneath studying scripture and kneeling before the wooden altar. A sin of the flesh, a heated poker jabbing at both his heart and his loins.

“No, I’m okay,” she assures with a slight dip of her head, already taking steps back to dart away, back to whichever gilded little nest of baubles and starlight she took flight from. “I was just heading home.”

And that’s it. He doesn’t plead for her to come inside, the offer has been laid out already. It’s not his job to force a belief that one doesn’t want, only lend a kindness and a cushioned pew, advice for the lost and a choir for bleating lambs.

He bids her goodbye and walks back to the clergy house, ignoring the strange looks of his peers as they all prepare to bed down after a nightly prayer. It’s rare to smile here, when sacred words are passed from the wrinkled, cracked lips of his seniors. But König does smile, the grin is as bright as the seconds of white lighting up the sky in intervals as he silently thanks God for such a sweet vision amidst such darkness.

The fixation does not falter for the following three nights. She doesn’t return to the churchyard to whisper secrets to the blooms, but the angel weighs on his mind so heavily that König finds himself convinced that she must have been his calling, a soul that he would assuredly save.

His sermons now lack their passion. The parishioners come to him with weighty hearts and misery in their eyes, but bless him all the same, even when he’s distant. Away with the fairies, some would say. He can’t help but wonder when one such service rolls to a closing prayer if whoever conjured such words had also been in the presence of a seraph.

“Do you need prayer?,” one of his fellow priests asks as the flock trickles out, worry clear in the wrinkles laden beneath this eyes and the way his lips draw down before pressing thin. “You don’t seem to be sleeping well.”

And König regrets the words he speaks next, when he describes the woman from the flowers in detail greater than necessary: how her eyes seemed so soft, her smile fragile, and her body language more docile than that of even a lamb. He mentions the dirty dress, the way she seemed to be trying to escape something yet refused the shelter he offered.

The other priest nods and sighs, his eyes squeezing shut in thought, and though König has not feared a scolding since he abandoned home nearly two decades prior, the way the ordinarily calm priest seems so frustrated by this sends a swell of fluttering anxiety beneath his ribcage.

“The woman you describe is a temptress,” his elder explains coldly. His sharp, dark eyes rest on König’s face as though the disparity in their height does not exist at all. “Best to let her be, she does not want our help. Leave it alone.”

“Ja. Verstanden.”

The warning is enough to dull the buzzing in his chest, the mush that’s been made up of his head until he sees her again.

The bakery in town regularly makes donations of pastries and thick loaves of bread for church goingson. It isn’t regular that he’s been asked to pick them up; the eldest of the priests usually does so, some blood relation to the owners that König has never cared enough to ask about. The old man never did well in the summer months, though, far too frail now to bear the heat snaking over his pale skin and leaving burns.

With the mistake of rambling onward about this perturbing fascination still grating at his mind, he doesn’t hesitate to volunteer, to take the old truck and step away from the stained glass and crucifixes for a brief outing. A moment of respite.

There’s a complimentary mug of coffee presented across the expanse of the counter when the cashier greets him with a smile so broad it seems faked.

König’s fingers twitch when he grasps at the handle; the uncertainty was something he had sworn he would outgrow one day with God’s healing, but it never seemed to stray far from him. It rests over the back of his neck like a feeding vampire when he takes his first sip, one that burns his tongue and stings at his eyes when he notices the woman seated at a table in the corner.

It’s her: temptation and fate packaged up in a loose fitting sweater that covers the pulse in her neck and a short skirt.

She holds her phone, not the mug stationed before her, staring down at the thing with the most somber expression he’s ever seen on a lady before. She taps her thumbs at the screen, talking to someone, but there’s a loneliness in her expression apparent like the rust on the old truck parked outside.

Poor little thing.

She glances up when his staring is detected, confusion stripped bare upon her with a pinched brow and a slack jaw. Then, follows realization and she offers the same smile she did that night, some seventy or so hours prior.

“Morning, Father.”

There’s not a fractal within König that wants to make the sweet spirit uncomfortable, but each step he takes towards her table seems to make her shoulders tense. She knows that he knows, sees that sympathetic look in his eye and hates it.

Maybe even hates him for the divinity he wears in the sable cloth pulled over his shoulders.

That doesn’t stop his approach.

König sits across from her with shaking hands and a forced smile like the one the cashier wears, drops his mug onto the table and offers her his hand. Fingers bending to graze the palm as though beckoning a frightened animal when it’s he who feels most afraid.

The angel merely eyes him cautiously for a moment before she takes the cup into both of her hands and gives him a fragile huff, dismissing his attempt to pray for her soul. Again. Yet, the sting he feels is not from a lack of a starved savior complex being satisfied, only… that he has yet to touch her somehow. That sudden thought stifles him in full.

But angels are nothing if not merciful and loving; she picks up on his dejection and speaks again in his place.

“How are the carnations?”

“Hm?”

“The flowers in the garden… the red ones,” she elaborates with a soft laugh, hides it behind the rim of her cup when it’s raised for her to take a sip. Her mouth looks soft, compelling, and he’s staring again. “I like them the most.”

He knows he should stop this, that what’s become of an innocent meeting has left him feeling anything but. There’s a howling chasm in place of the heart of a worthy devotee. She’s nothing like the women who frequent the church — the only other women he sees. Brighter at best and alluring at the worst.

“I thought the lilies were your favorite…” It’s unsuited for a priest and a man so tall and broad to sound so breakable, but his voice only comes in an hurried breath, embarrassed and small.

She shakes her head, tousles her hair in the process. “I like all of them. The ones at your church grow prettiest.”

“I see…”

The woman gives him an expectant look, as if prompting him to speak more, before her phone chimes and the air seems to shift from tentative yet sweet to something vast and cold. She doesn’t seem eager to be interrupted in such a way, either; her expression falls from that subtle playfulness to something akin to a regretful acceptance.

She stands from her seat abruptly and takes a step towards the door. “I have something I need to take care of.”

God gives and takes away.

“I can bring you some,” he offers, winding in the too-small wooden chair to face her. Too late to reel in the flirtatious nature of such an offering, too late to bite his tongue and remember the vows he had taken. The burden upon his heart seems far more pressing than any words from an old book. “Carnations and lilies… some of the others, too.”

The woman almost seems shy when she glances over her shoulder and offers him the most imperceptible nod. “Yeah, sure… I’ll see you around.”

His angel leaves him to rot in thought at that lonely table, in this tiny bakery. He does not think to repent for the way his temperature and pulse spiked in her presence, for the way he takes her empty cup and stuffs it into one of the boxes of baked goods to collect later.

Riding back to the church is dreadful, because she’s already fastened to his heart like a ribbon on a pretty bouquet. He’ll ask the sisters from the cloister to clip flowers for him, tie them up in a lace that will leave her face warmed and lips pouting.

When the people in the church have their fill of sweets and bread, König tells a lie, maybe several.

He claims he doesn’t know why that innocuous porcelain thing is resting where food once had, doesn’t know why the baker would have stuffed that in there too. He takes it to his room and claims that he would return it come morning.

The bed has always felt far too small for him alone, but he pictures her there with him, sat upon his lap when he brings the cup up to his lips with his eyes closed.

It’s cold and hard, difficult to imagine it to be a kiss at all, but he pretends her lips are upon him, eager and willing. It takes only rolling his tongue back to flick over itself, envisioning it being her own, for him to feel his trousers grow too tight. He doesn’t touch himself. He can’t bear the thought of it, not with the cross staring down at him from the far wall.

And finally, regret comes.

Shame, too, because König is aware he’s become a bit of a creep; enchanting himself with second hand kisses whilst his angel takes another man to bed. A man undeserving, but… he could be. He was deserving enough to become a holy man, surely she could see he was worthy of her as well.

The bed is too small even when he curls into himself and pulls the blanket up passed his eyes. Sleep is too skittish to come for him, even when he prays in a whisper to be absolved of his lust.

The dreams are only filled with images of an angel trapped in a rose bush, the thorns sinking into her wings until blood is drawn, but still she smiles. She reaches toward him with shaky limbs, whispers something so dreadfully mournful he knows to his very soul that she is his purpose alone.

It’s what wakes him in a fit, compels him to venture out through the yard with a heart set on seeking guidance. There are moonbeams above and animal calls from the surrounding trees. All of God’s creations are in perfect, dreamy harmony.

Why couldn’t he be the same? Always the outsider in one way or another; always the sore thumb rather than the loving green. Desolation is an art, a skill he’s learned to hide back: clenched teeth to still a wrathful tongue and a layer of muscle to guard that wounded thing in his chest.

There is no better peace than the quiet of the church in the late hour. Moonlight through stained glass and empty, antique seats that would make the worldly whip out their phones to snap pictures in a heartbeat. The doors are always open, for the sinners and the devoted alike, though the confessional is rarely touched when there would be no saint awake set on absolving.

Perhaps that’s why he takes to the booth he needs to make himself smaller to fit into: one shoulder and one foot first, then the next set. He’s never cared for it, left it to the better and smaller. The sound just past the thin partition rattles him. It isn’t the creaking of wood below his feet, but something softer. A weak sniffle. A cry from the other side.

“I’ll leave in a moment,” comes a voice, broken from tears and so horribly sad that the usual script entirely fails him. He recognizes the voice, though a bit warbled now. The voice that would make the choir pause, an angel’s sweet tone.

“Wait… no. You can stay. I’m hiding, too.” A breathy laugh comes forced and misplaced. Priest or not, König has never been the best at consoling anyone, let alone one so far above him.

“I’m not hiding,” she tries to sound braver now. He can imagine her chin tilted forward and that sweet smile trying it’s damndest to paint its way across her face. “But… why are you?”

“Don’t know.”

“Who are you?” The crying seems to have ceased entirely for now. Clearly whatever seemed to ail her could be remedied by her own curiosity. A cute, unorthodox little thing.

“König.” It served well enough as a confirmation name when he could not settle on one of the saints. King of them all, one of the other saved men had said in jest. Ironic, now.

“I like your voice, König,” she murmurs, deliberately testing the pronunciation on her tongue in such an alluring way that a small shiver runs its way down his spine.

“Danke… and you?”

God forgive him, he doesn’t even try. Doesn’t try to bring shame or guilt, read her scripture or pray for her soul. He only listens in silence when she tells him her name, beautiful and charming as he had expected it to be. The woman then tells him of her work, of the motel she ventures to at night… the troubles with money and even vaguely, some of the men she suffers through. This had been a bad night. Strange how a singular hour could have broken someone down to such a desperation to open up, to grasp for what small comfort they could receive.

But she came for him.

She must have hoped to see him.

He thanks his god for that.

— — —

“I bought a phone.”

“I see that.” Her fingers graze over the stems of the flowers, cleanly cut by hands more patient and stable than König’s own.

The angel isn’t looking up at him, not this time. There isn’t even a smile on her face when she cradles the bouquet close to her chest, petting over it where she sits upon the motel bed wearing nothing but some strappy, barely-there lingerie. Pure white with pink lace over the cups of her bra where her breasts swell with each shaky intake of breath.

In this week apart, he’s kept the device hidden in a loose pocket and spent many a night scouring the seediest websites looking for a hint of a body that may belong to her in this very area. Only one seemed to match. The messages exchanged were about hours and pricing, establishing a location, and terms he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t harp on the small details, but finding her messages to be so rigid and dry did surprise him. There were no cute hearts or winking emojis, it all felt horribly transactional.

Priests don’t make a lot of money, it all goes back to the church, but he’s thieved enough from the offering bowls to have a night with her alone. As disheartening as the lack of flirtations seemed, he hoped not to squander whatever opportunity this outing proved to be.

The balaclava covering his face wasn’t purchased with the intention of making her nervous, only… shielding himself from curious stares. The whole town knows his face, his name, the words he speaks so resolutely to his flock. Just as well as they know of who she is, what she does.

Even this knitted shield couldn’t hide himself from her, though. The very moment he entered this drab, modestly decorated room with flowers in hand she had only looked further lost.

“You look very pretty,” he tries as he removes the mask and drops it to the floor, kneels just a hair from where her feet dangle from the bed. “I’m glad that I found you.”

“Thank you.”

The flowers are placed on the side table, petals falling down to the thin carpet below. A cascade of red like blood and white like doves feathers. Purity and a wound in one.

The poor thing looks scorned when she does give him a glance then, but she forces herself into a position that stokes a hellish, unnatural flame within him. Her thighs part as her hands rest on the cups of her bra, pushing the thin fabric down to reveal areola, her soft nipples, sights that he had never seen before.

“You shouldn’t even be here, König,” the lady warns when his gaze sweeps over the innocent flesh laid bare before him. The angel isn’t even wet. Her panties are pristine over her womanhood, and it dawns on him that… she wouldn’t risk what he was even for the generous donation he had given.

“I don’t want to ruin you.”

But she should. Crumble him into salt, cast him away with the wind. Should.

She sees something holy in him too… albeit, not in the way that he would like for her to.

He swallows hard as he rises to his feet and sits next to her. The hands that were so accustomed to being joined in prayer find her breasts now with tentative touches, a curious squeeze, until he wills himself to readjust the fabric and conceal her properly.

“Ja, but… I just wanted to visit you.”

“You don’t need to pay me just to see me.”

The tension in the room finally begins to dissolve. Not by much, but when she sighs something that sounds like amusement, the restless throbbing of his heart does begin to settle.

As much as he would like to take her like some beast in rut, lay some claim to her in bursts of white seed, he doesn’t even know where to begin. Each curve of her body looks as though it would feel like a miracle beneath his palm, under his tongue.

It’s just that nothing is going to happen, not here, not now that he’s brought a prostitute flowers and revealed who he was to her. She sees something pitiful, where he only sees someone to love.

He can’t tell her that he dreams of her, that he views her in the same way he views his god. That would only scare her away, lead her to believe he’s a lunatic rather than a man only just now having his first taste of love.

“Then could I see you every night? So that you don’t have to…” His head dips, because no matter how he tries he knows any word he says is foolish.

This isn’t something she’s doing because it is fun for her; it’s a job just like his own. Flesh or words spoken… did it even matter? And yet, König could feel a malicious, gnawing envy at the thought of a bolder man taking his place tomorrow evening. That man wouldn’t hesitate to peel away her pretty lingerie and fuck her, shove his tongue into her mouth while his cock sat between her legs as if it belonged there.

“König,” she sighs next to him, pityingly.

His jaw tenses as his fingers curl into his palms. The hopelessness of it all crashes down around him as though sung out from the loudest of the choir. He hardly notices when she presses her head against his shoulder, only realizes how close she’s come to him when her hand curls over one of his own.

“You’re the strangest man I’ve ever met.” It’s not a compliment but it feels like one when she laughs like that, airy and soft. “The sweetest one, too.”

He smells her perfume from this close, something scented like fruit or maybe maple, sap-sticky and saccharine. All of her flesh feels warm against the plain t-shirt he wears, a warmth he would give anything to dive into, but not without her explicit command. A powerful seraph in the form of one painfully cute, gentle lady. If anyone could see what he saw now, they too would forsake those holy books and eat from her open palm instead.

“I don’t know what to do,” he confesses, a peculiar bitterness hanging on his tongue.

“How about a walk?”

He pulls the balaclava over his face again when they make their way out into the quiet, darkened street. Hand in hand. It’s not from shame, but a necessity, perhaps, because his pale face has only flowered into a lasting pink since laying eyes upon her on that mattress, sprawled out and waiting. The blush only deepens with every squeeze she blesses him with, every hushed word spoken as she tells him about her favorite places.

She’s dressed in the same white dress they had initially met in, now clean of the dirt from flower beds. Somehow even more radiant at this close, too.

The churchyard and the clergy house are nothing in comparison to the way the rest of the town feels when the moon rises. It’s a world all their own, a place where no one looks at her as if she were a simple harlot, but a queen amongst chipping wood and tarmac. There’s even a skip in her step as she walks ahead of him, her hips swaying beneath her skirt. All because there’s no one here but she and her most loyal and only acolyte.

He wills himself out of her grasp when they cross the threshold into the cemetery. The darkness there is enough to pull him back to earth; thoughts of how easily swayed he’s been linger in the back of his mind. The want doesn’t even begin to reel back its claws, but the guilt does sink its pearly fangs in alongside it.

“I get it. You don’t want to be seen with me,” she says a small step away, drawing her hand up to her chest. It’s the saddest she’s ever looked, and he doesn’t have the words to further explain that he has no god damn idea what he’s doing: here, with her, in the midst of something that feels so normal even though it should not.

“Nein! That’s not—“

“You don’t want to touch me. You barely talk…”

Because the words don’t come easy. Because he’s never felt such an overbearing devotion to anyone, anything apart from what he prays to. How could she… this woman that shared in such loneliness with him not see him for what he was, not see him in the way that he sees her?

“You’re misunderstanding.”

“You just want to… to convert me, is that right?,” she hisses, sounding more shaken up than he had ever hoped to hear.

All hesitation had to be swallowed back.

There was no other option. He could feel her slipping away, a pain he wasn’t prepared to face.

God gives and takes away, but König refuses to let go.

His eyes narrow, his breath halts entirely, and he cups her face in his hands as gently as he can. The distance between them feels like miles as he lowers his head to kiss her through the knit barrier. It’s flighty and petrifying on his side… he feels cold sweat wet his brow when the warmth of her pulls through.

She could hit him, spit her curses like a proper witch, and he would only fall to her feet and kiss her heels. But… she does none of those things. Whatever pain was brewing here is ripped away with the night breeze.

Her hands peel away the balaclava, discard it somewhere into the tall grass where it wouldn’t be found, and she grants him his first, proper kiss.

With only the cracked headstones and cemetery angels watching, what once was tentative becomes a full indulgence. König samples from her mouth as though it weeps honey when the gentle peck graduates to a parting of lips. His hands run down the length of her sides as she grasps at his shirt, they pull her in close until her chest meets his own and two pairs of eyelids flutter.

She feels more heavenly than his imagination could have prepared him for, her tongue hotter and her sounds… the soft sighs and shaky murmurs of approval that fill him with both a maddening love and an urge to burn everything away if only it would keep her safe and near.

The world ceases to be entirely, cast down with Lucifer to the sulfur and smoke. Her lips remain parted when they break apart, a haze over her eyes reflecting the veil clouding his own irises.

Was a kiss really forsaking his vows? Was that really such a painful treachery? No… no it shouldn’t be. The issue remains that he can not see her as just some woman. Something as small as this could consume him entirely.

The night is spent with an abundance of those shared kisses when they return to the motel. Tentative touches, too. He’s never held a woman, not in the way he gets to hold her then. She presses tightly to him, her back to his chest with her hand keeping his own in place over her middle. She’s so soft, swans down plush and smooth as silk ribbon.

There is mint lingering on her breath each time she speaks. No talk of her work, only… she confesses how she had feared him so initially, how she worried that a holy man stepping into her life would only be further condemnation: an angel terrified by a devil that does not exist at all.

He knows he’s lost a part of himself here when he tells her he wishes to meet with her again, that if the church is no longer the place she fancies to walk, he’ll meet her amongst the dead again and again when the old clergymen sleep. Those promises he had reserved solely for God turn on themselves now, when he reveres the idol he shares this bed with.

Though her hips press back against his groin when his fingers crawl up to her sternum, and the desire strikes up within him, his cock remains untouched here. He doesn’t whisper a prayer for forgiveness into her hair when he grows hard, just tucks her in closer and smiles where his head rests atop her own.

It’s the closest to bliss he’s ever felt.

— — —

“You weren’t here for morning prayer.” The voice isn’t accusatory, just observant. The nightly prayers were missed too, though a reprieve is granted by way of those remaining unmentioned.

But the guilt does eat at König when he sees the concern in this man’s eyes, splinters at his very soul until he asks in a fragile voice if he can speak to the old priest in the confessional.

Everything here feels much too small and the booth is more or less the same. The wood closes in around him, bathes him in a blackness that even the glow of candlelight within these walls can not reach. The partition separating them does not help bolster courage, it only leaves him feeling more alone.

The clergyman listens in silence as König confesses that he has become weak. He does not mention the lady of the night, but there’s no need to at all: finding himself so captivated with a woman that he considered breaking every promise to the higher power was bad enough. He does not mention how he’s considered pleasuring himself, touching her too… only that they shared a night together embraced, counts the kisses that were exchanged with each digit of his hands.

There’s a pitying sigh from the other side before the man begins a lengthy prayer that König does join him in. With the “Amen” that follows, he’s told only to rid himself of those thoughts, to bury them with fasting and prayer. No more visits with this temptress, remain on the right path. The very, very simple things he must do to receive God’s forgiveness and favor once more.

“You are not a disappointment,” his elder reminds him with a small pat to his cheek and a smile. It’s more fatherly than the sparse affection he received from his own flesh and blood before coming here.

“Danke… thank you,” he breathes when his eyes bear the burden of tears.

God loves him and so do the sainted men.

But to never see her again would be worse than flagellation.

He chokes down the pain with more water when his stomach roars with hunger, hides the broken heart with smiles and prayer. Holy clothes feel heavier now. The money he stole to spend that night with her is returned to the collection pool in a week's time. The smartphone he had purchased is tossed out with the rest of the garbage in the bins. Even the cup is returned to the bakery after being rinsed in the sink.

Still not a part of him feels absolved from this torturous puppet show.

He thinks of her more than he ponders over his fear of Hell itself. God feels like an old memory as the days pass. He counts them in his daybook, an ‘X’ next to the dates he had gone without seeing her. Ten becomes twenty, and it becomes no less agonizing.

The prayers come easier, at least. He joins with his fellow men, kneels with his hands clasped before him, speaks such heartfelt words now that on more than one occasion he’s shared a healing tear or two with the other clergymen.

God is an old friend, yes, but that title is just a placeholder for the one his prayers are truly for. The little angel of the garden, the woman who has given him nothing at all but stole his heart all the same. Was she not the same as God from that aspect?

After a month, he’s finally given the privilege to stand before the altar and preach to the parishioners again. His sermon is directed by the other clergymen, a subtle admission of his own misdeeds as he guides the flock away from the sins of lust, of worldly pleasures that would steer them away from the right path.

Amidst the men and women crowding the pews sits a new face. She wears a hat, looking uncertain and skittish as a bunny amidst a pack of starved hounds beneath its curved brim. Her coat is tugged tightly around her where her hands grip to keep it closed and snug. No one is out to get her, not here, but there’s a purplish bruise on her neck. A sad stare trails up to meet his gaze when he stammers through the words of scripture.

Then, she smiles and his heart only feels full.

The sermon ends clumsily enough, but she waits for him in the center pew. He ensures the others have cleared out before he takes rigid steps toward her, where he sits a foot or so away on the bench; the feigned friendliness is only a front for the rapid beating of his heart and the way the blush upon his face paints up to his ears.

“I waited to walk with you… like you promised we would,” she says in place of a greeting. There’s no chiding in her tone, just curiosity. Gentle, like she’s speaking to a wounded bird, and perhaps that’s what he’s become: some big, ugly vulture. Holy in its love of everything from the sky to the rot down below.

“I’m sorry. I..,” he laments, grasping for an explanation that does not come.

“No, I understand. It’s alright, König.”

He knows he doesn’t deserve the gift of her redemption with how easily he turned away from her, from the blooming of… something. It was best not to use that word anymore.

“I just didn’t want to wait any longer. I missed you,” she huffs when the silence extends between them, breaks up the tension in the air but not what creeps over her own shoulders.

“Your bruise..” He wants to tell her of his sleepless nights, of how he pictures her in place of any old deity upon a throne in heaven, but settles for where his eyes linger on her neck.

No explanation is provided, but she lets him bring his fingers to it, ghost over where the purple melds to yellow in the shape of thick fingerprints. Add wrath to the ever growing list of his sins, because it’s all he feels amidst the envy and love.

His fingers dig into the plain back trousers when they rest upon his lap again, something foreign buzzes beneath his skin. The thought that any man would be brazen enough to lay hands upon his very own angel.. It’s unbelievable, unforgivable. His thoughts spiral so quickly it’s frightening. Timid things can become vicious, too, when backed into corners.

She manages to keep this growing storm in check when she stands and smooths her skirt, and offers to tidy up the church in an act of ‘repentance’.

The chores are simple and the sisters that linger far past service seem grateful to have her here as she takes up the broom and sweeps away at the dusty floor. They chatter away with her, take her hat and rest their hands over her shoulders when the cleaning winds to an end. His angel closes her eyes in prayer, doesn’t so much as open them to send him a knowing glance when they pray for her to find a good husband, someone who deserves such a lovely, godly woman.

She shares a meal with them while König keeps to himself with scripture in hand, mindlessly roving over the words even when his thoughts drift to the night of their first kiss.

He reasons that it’s only natural when she gives him such a display of acceptance too. It only solidifies what he knows already: this woman is no succubus— she has not crawled from the depths of Hell to drag him back with her, she’s only heavensent. An angel with a broken wing or a gaping wound somewhere… something to care for.

She’s encouraged to return by several fond voices. A few of the women even offer to walk her home, the daylight is dying and it’s dangerous for a lone lady out at night. The angel smiles at him then, sharing in the knowledge that she prefers the dark. Not the wicked things, but the peace and the beauty of the moon.

And she returns when he abstains from her.

She confides in him after each sermon that she does long to see him more often, but she likes the way he speaks of Mary Magdalene and the other women in scripture, pokes fun at the lilt to his voice when he notices her amidst the crowd of others. She says she likes him a lot before they part ways in the evenings, but she doesn’t tempt him with pouts or trailing fingers.

He thanks her for respecting his faith each time - despite being the one who crossed several boundaries initially. Though he keeps his hands to himself now, the looks he gives to her are pleading and soft. If she would pull him into a kiss now, he would let her have all of him. They could run away together, from the church, from her clients…

It’s on one of those cloudy Sundays that he does ask her if she’s stopped. He braves the look she gives him when his question comes as a hushed stutter. The comfort between them no longer feels tentative. It’s just there. Ever-present as the sky above.

“Well, you haven’t,” she whispers in response, propping her elbow up on the back of the pew. It’s as if she believes it could be so simple, but it’s not. Not for either of them.

The spiels of Heaven and Hell won’t reach her, so he doesn’t bother with those. She offers him an invitation with her words and the way she remains so open that it’s difficult not to take.

It’s been months since he touched her last and the love has only seemed to have grown. Strange. Perhaps he is as odd as she’s imagined him to be. There have been weddings in this very church, talks of long years of courtship, and even then what those men must have felt for their brides had to have paled in comparison to this. It had to.

“Tell me how to,” he breathes without any underlying thought. Saints don’t question their gods, they only serve them.

“You’re actually considering it…?”

“I might.”

The silence crowds around the bench while her fingers brush over the pages of a hymnal in repetition and his only inch closer to her clothed knee.

“You could meet me at the cemetery tonight… We could talk more there.”

“At night is probably not the best time.”

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends don’t kiss. Friends don’t feel the way he feels now, or how he’s felt for the past few months. Platonic arrangements don’t require repentance. But, he bites his tongue and tilts his head back, lets it roll off the shoulder when his hand draws back to his lap. Another time.

Not where the Heavenly Father could see, if he were even watching any longer.

“… Tomorrow morning would be better.”

“Then I’ll come get you. Don’t you dare try and get out of it,” she chirps with the wildest glint of mirth alight in her eyes.

Stay.

If the church caught fire now and the rafters came to sink into the earth not a part of him would or could even care as long as she were just here. But he watches her go without a word of opposition, watches her nod toward the sisters standing out in the yard and clasp her hands in front of her, smiling to herself as though the world were made for just the two of them.

It stings during nightly prayer, and it burns when he lies in bed to wait for the morning. There are cicadas singing and footsteps on old wooden boards to remind him that he isn’t entirely alone, the scent of tobacco drifting from his window when another plaster saint hides beyond the veil of night to smoke. He doesn’t sleep, his eyes remain fixed upon the ceiling until the darkness of the room drifts to a dull gray with the sun’s slow rise.

And König does not wait for her to fetch him. Morning prayer dissolves into a mournful cry because there is no part of him that can fathom or interpret any of this. A trial should not feel like a blessing when he’s faced with it. God must be playing the stupidest game imaginable to test him with someone so lovable, so charming. Where the church leaves him feeling filthy with remorse, she purifies him with only a curl of her lips and starlight dancing in her eyes.

None of it is fair.

The guilt must be something obligatory, summoned up like puffs of dust from the floorboards. Worshiping idols is a sin, but it’s not the angel that feels like one, it’s the attention he pays to the cloud in his head that does. That’s the one that should go.

He grits through prayer with the other men, doesn’t chime in with unnecessary words of devotion this time. The coffee burns his tongue when he downs the mug and forgoes breakfast. There are dark rings beneath his eyes when he ventured to the washroom to brush his teeth, and there are whispers in the halls that the young priest must be either coming under a possession or God is preparing him for something. Something big and exciting. He ignores those and the stern glances from the little nuns in their robes, huffs something of a joke about a momentary sabbatical when he lumbers out of the walls of the church.

There are no new bruises this time, but König has the memory of the last ones stuck in his skull. A clear image of four small marks on the side of her neck, another on its opposite. Larger, more pronounced. Five marks from a hand that never belonged there. Kerosene and a match are what the thoughts running rampant in his head would look like to an outsider.

She tells him on the thin picnic blanket that she’s got a new client, that he gives her enough to where she doesn’t have to consider any others now. The man has a much stranger set of interests, ones she hadn’t delved into before him, but she’s merciful enough to withhold the details that would lead König to make the crucifixion seem a gentle affair.

She tells him because she wants him to be proud that it’s only one now. That she’s making some sort of progress for him. None of it is fair, and he knows without asking that she feels more akin to the way that he does than any of the holy men.

And still he can’t help but ask, “Do you love him?”

“Of course not,” comes her immediate response, and there’s a near imperceptible glare there, judging by the fire in her eyes. It’s cute… and he feels the world's ugliest fool for daring to ask for reassurance as though this relationship was any sort of normal. If it were even a relationship at all.

Their hands touch, reaching for the same flaky pastry in the basket she brought along and Heaven’s bells ring out in his ears when her gaze sweeps over him. Everything is sugared dough and right again. She offers him her lap in place of a pillow for his head when the clouds grow thick and gray above, feeds him from her own hand and runs her fingers across his face with the other.

“How did you get the sky in your eyes?,” she asks him, makes him blush so easily his heart stutters within his chest. He feels like a boy in her presence, and in a way, to her, maybe he even is just some inexperienced whelp nipping at her heels.

The angel does not judge, she softly rakes her nails behind his ear and neck until he shivers in her hold. His hair is next, a victim to her comfort as she tousles it between her fingers, strokes him like the smallest of kittens when he feels anything but.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he mutters, raising a hand to brush at her cheek. Warm as he expected, yet softer. There’s nothing wicked here, only a woman. A woman who loves him as he loves her.

“Your eyes are pretty… sad. I love them,” comes the sweet reply that reduces him to nothing but scattered feathers and a howling ache.

Did he even exist before now? Before her? This woman has filled him with such purpose, breathed new life into a stagnant soul. The church was a safe place for a man scorned by the rest of the world, but that blanket felt unnecessary now. He wanted to feel her hands move over him like this, smell the petals in her perfume, hear her voice speak to him, all of it. Forever.

“I think that I lose myself when I’m with you.”

“Does that hurt you?”

“Nein… I’m happier like this.” It’s the closest to a confession he can whisper.

And he returns to her, morning after morning König rushes through paying his dues to God and his men to return to her like this.

When the graveyard is silent and the dew still sticks to the blades of grass, her voice sounds sweeter somehow beneath the glow of the rising sun. The birds sing around them and often she pushes wildflowers into his hair, clasps her hands around his neck and teaches him to kiss.

Her tongue moves with grace, his is only a thing of greed. Each chaste peck is met with a hunger from somewhere so foggy and forgotten it never had a home at all, not before now. The angel needn’t show him where to rest his hands, they pry at every part of her: gentle brushes against her cheek and neck, kneading at her shoulders, further, further until he does finally starve off any lingering thought of what is good or evil to explore the curve of her lower back.

Most of the time words come in afterthought, once lips are wet and plush from this gentle devouring, after she steels herself from running her hands any further down than his stomach. He tells her in truth that he prays to her, not for. Not anymore.

The shadows cast from the aspens keep them tucked far away from sight, from God and his people alike. A temple for two without four walls to close them in. The only place on this earth that he’s ever found himself in perfect solace.

“I want to try something,” she breathes just when he’s prepared himself to leave. The tree at his back, knees parted, where she remains sat across from him. There’s nervousness there, not the fretful way she looks after a long night, nor the way she looked to him upon their first meetings. “Do you trust me?”

“Ja… more than anyone,” he reassures in a soft tone of voice, tipping her chin up with the tips of two fingers to further accentuate it. Her beauty and her uncertainty always strike a chord within him, a fire that never dwindles. When her eyes search his own, his breath catches.

He doesn’t say a word when she peels away the robes from the front of his trousers. Her hands linger on at the waistband for a moment, takes enough time to offer the gentlest peck to the side of his neck before continuing. It’s another first, being exposed to a woman like this when she lowers the band and has him shimmy backward to free his cock from his pants. Soft with shame or embarrassment, a concoction of other things he could not name, but the moment she looks up at him with pure delight he feels himself grow stiff.

“Wow… You’ve got a perfect cock,” she assesses with a laugh, finger running up the length of it as it twitches to life under her touch.

Scheisse.

He strokes her cheek with reverence as she bends down before him, watching him carefully through her eyelashes. Her warm breath drifts over his manhood and he’s already horribly aware that this would not last long. Another lesson, like the kisses, maybe. She could mold him any way that she likes and he would be pleased to play the role of her Adam.

The tongue isn’t what he anticipated. She flattens it against the tip, breathes a laugh when a keening whine is pulled from his throat. To see such an ugly, vulgar thing pressed to the beautiful mouth he’s kissed a dozen times now. It feels wrong. There’s no hesitation when her lips wrap around him. And then all of it— everything is just right. Every moment spent in this hazy, loving glow with her is right. If Hell were to come from this, then let it.

He can’t tear his eyes away from her, can’t bring himself to speak when he feels the way his cock hits the back of her throat, feels her swallow around him and make such a pleased noise as she wraps her fingers around the expanse she can not take.

Its pitiful, the way he must look: mouth agape, eyes lidded and heavy… He brings a hand to her hair, and runs his fingers through it as if she isn’t letting him fuck her mouth, but rather in the midst of something far holier, softer. Sacrilegious or divine. If God we’re watching, let him.

She pulls back a little, an obscene, wet sound in answer when her mouth is drawn back enough to merely press a kiss the tip, puffy lips glossy with drool. “Is this okay…? Not too much?”

“You are so pretty… it feels… just keep going.” His voice no longer possesses any feigned confidence, it begs like a wounded thing, chanting, “Bitte. Please…”

His hips tilt up when she parts her lips again, all trepidation be damned. This is something, something he’s aches for and never had the chance to feel. All of the ache, the longing to be diminished, to unite with the angel who fled Heaven for him. The cock pushes at her open mouth, smears thick beads of precum over her cheek, before she takes him in again with a delighted, muffled sound. Her soft mouth, the tongue that thoroughly laps at his shaft and follows her movements to wrap and suck at the head. Otherworldly, and… unfathomably bittersweet.

Her lips suction around him, the movements of her wrist only increasing, and with the second roll of his hips he feels his stomach begin to tense as pure heat rolls its way through him. A gentle coursing becomes a blinding inferno in mere seconds, and regrettably, instinctively, that hand so gently combing through her hair comes to snare it instead and force her down further.

His soft grunts and low pleading morph to something choked and almost agonized. It’s the purest rapture, a pleasure so absolute his eyes prick as he bows lower to cover over her as she swallows his devotion by mouth. The angel pants breathlessly when she pulls away with saliva and semen still stringing them together, cleansed by his thumb tracing over her lips, replaced so swiftly by his own mouth. The kiss is so chaste it feels misplaced here, but she nuzzles against him in this comedown from ecstasy, doesn’t even chastise how he lasted a mere two minutes.

And he vows, vows in the sweetness of her comfort and love that no one else will ever have this again.

— — —

Abstaining from meals during a fast is a struggle in and of itself; abstaining from her is some long-forgotten circle of Hell.

It’s not avoidance, but a necessity.

To think that his first sexual encounter would provoke days of concern, a wistful daydream about a future he never would have thought to have had otherwise. There was a desperate, starving desire to repent when he first arrived home after that, but nothing that a bottle of communion wine and a cold shower could not wash away. Repentance has lost its merit to him.

And after seven days, he’s perfectly aware of what he must do. To absolve them both from things where atonement seems far from a necessity at all. He folds his holy robes and leaves them on the bed in the room too small, set neatly next to his Bible. The rosary was the one thing that König could not bear to part with. The beads, red and shimmery, were chosen and strung together with him in mind. It’s slipped into the pocket of his jeans after the plain, black t-shirt is pulled over his head.

There’s a hammer in his gloved hand, and he doesn’t recall where he found it. Lying with its head rusted in the churchyard, perhaps half buried beneath the soil. Some of the other clergymen are talented at fixing things, but König’s never been very good with that. His first rosary was broken with a careless slip of his fingers, and he’s shattered more porcelain than he could count on accident.

Even communion wine can be a bit too strong, sometimes. Or maybe that’s only when the bottle’s been entirely downed. He’ll blame one of his betters when the stock is counted and one turns up missing, if they bother to come seek him out again at all.

The motel is dead at this hour, so late into the night. The few normal visitors have already been accounted for with watchful eyes, and the angel waits in one of the rooms on the second floor. He imagines the laces on her lingerie, the healing bruises on her throat, and that sweet expression upon her face. Or maybe that one was reserved solely for him. He prayed… no, he hoped so.

After tonight, there would be no more mercies for him. Or perhaps there would be an abundance, blessings from the vultures and the wolves and the maggots he would feed. New gods that were still far lesser than the angel who suffers men in sheets, but only looks to him with love.

And he doesn’t have to wait long, because the demon finds his way here with haste. Does he come here every night looking as proud as he does now? His attire even resonates with death, black with those white details, a costume that seems so fitting for one about to meet the very face he wears.

Killing someone isn’t so easy. Cain murdered his brother with a rock, described in such loose detail that one would think a playful throw led to Abel’s end. But it’s not so, not when the victim is hellbent on living.

The demon is smaller, but strong. He’s been in situations like this before, doesn’t have to spit the words to tell König so. They’re felt with each blow, with the sharp edge of the knife this bastard manages to dig into his side. Just barely, before it’s jerked out of his hand and thrown several paces away. The skittering across the tarmac is enough to chant doom.

There’s blood. More with the first strike of the hammer. It seemed so much easier in thought rather than practice. In his imaginings, the head would split with the first fall like an overripe apple, crumple in and the breath would leave the demon in an instant. Instead, it’s dozens. Blow after blow while the smaller man struggles below him.

A strange catharsis comes over him when his soul grows murky, when his hands are slick and the struggle comes to an abrupt end. The sobering only comes when he’s spent an hour driving down the most forested roads to find a place to dump the body. There’s no tact to it, laying a man to rest in shrubbery and dirt. With a head so collapsed it’s hard to think of this as a man at all. A corpse, something no longer simply human.

König does not pray for him when he rests the hammer in the deceased’s hands. Does not offer it more than a passing thought when he peels away back toward home. The deed is done and he’s free of those horrid burdens tainting his heart, keeping him held back on a short leash to divinity.

Like fate, she’s found out in the garden again after the bloodied shirt and stained gloves are discarded. The wound is patched with what he could find available, a hastily tied strip of gauze covers his side. A week or so at best until the gash would heal into an ugly, jagged scar. It seemed even a bastard devil’s blade couldn't be sharp enough to fell a Goliath when he’s caught by surprise and horny.

He feigns merely emptying the garbage into an outside bin, plays off the sting of the gash with a humble, lumbering gait. She beams up at him through lines of tears running down the sides of her face like small, silver streams beneath the darkened sky above.

He’s not a saint anymore, no… a guardian angel. The archangel Michael with his sword set ablaze and divinity scrawled into every scale of his chest plate. Something holy and glowing, unsullied and beautiful.

Like her.

“You’re crying…”

“Sorry… bad night. Client just ghosted me.”

No. This was good, couldn’t she see that? All the sleepless nights, the prayer and the constant, overwhelming longing. Everything he had suffered for her, and still she only comes to him with the thought of that horrible thing in mind.

“He’s dead.” Maybe it was just the fear of a loss of money. He had enough saved up someplace, and the collection pool would be beneficial enough to pivot them towards a new life. No church. No lonely motel. He had to test it, give her a trial and hope that she did not simply break.

The look that crosses her face is one of confusion… Then comes a strange twist of relief. Her mouth falls slightly agape and her arms squeeze slightly around his middle.

“We just spoke a few hours ago. How…?” Finally, suspicion.

Maybe he’s too drunk on playing God now to care, to realize this isn’t how a good man would have handled things. The only thing that holds any weight, that resonated with him any at all is the thought that he loves her, that he will protect her until his dying breath, pray at her feet and anything else she might ask.

That’s what pulls him to press her down against the bed of the truck, to kiss her with every lesson she’s blessed him with in mind. Tongue and teeth, fire and spit, she accepts all of it. She doesn’t beg him for an answer: she’s seen the worst of men, taken cocks far less deserving. Her hands find his hair as they drift away here, gives the strands a sharp tug to usher him closer, roll her tongue against his own.

The sheer tights she wears beneath her skirt are ripped at the seam between her legs by large hands, panties pushed to the side before she finally presses against the broad chest against her to gain some space. Her breath is shallow, face warmed and hair a mess, still the loveliest thing he’s ever laid his eyes upon.

“Are you afraid?” He tilts his head to the side, curious, as if there were no reason for her deny him of this now after he had just *killed for her*. After he forsook what once was all he knew all for her. He would do it again without question, with no gain at all, but the sting of rejection was not something he could entirely choke back.

But his angel never runs out of mercies, it seems.

“No… just give me a second.”

She slips her hand down between her parted legs, demonstrates for him just how to prepare a woman. He watches, mesmerized, as she circles the bud above her slit, dips her finger downward to spread wetness along her flesh. Dew over petals. A finger slips inside of her, and all at once is shoved aside.

“Let me,” he pleads, already pressing both hands to her inner thighs, tilting her hips upward as his head sinks between them.

“You don’t have to,” she whispers, but grants him his wish with feverish nods that betray her words, allows him to kiss her sex as he shifts himself into a better position.

There’s nothing to go off of but her sounds, the cries of pleasure when his tongue lolls out to lick at the nub where most of her reactions stem from. He mutters against her about her taste, something so ethereal he could not even begin to place. Her scent envelopes him in full, and he’s never felt closer to anything prior. She allows his clumsy licking, moans louder for him when he can’t stifle his own groaning. The pants are too tight around him, and patience is another virtue he finds that he lacks.

She doesn’t reach some fantastical height of pleasure when he presses a finger into her cunt, but her body seems to fit even that like a glove, squeezing around him as he lazily circles her bud with his tongue. She doesn’t come, but she tugs him by the hair to usher him back into another kiss, hands roving down his abdomen to free his manhood from the barriers of fabric. And finally… finally he’s granted entrance to Heaven.

The first thrust leaves him spiraling, lost into a world of silk and honey. And the angel does not give him any time to recover, she writhes beneath him, shifting her hips to pull him in deeper, muffles each whine and groan from his lips with her tongue hungrily lapping over his own.

He’s thought about having a woman many times, but never imagined it could feel this good. To be so complete, every woe or fear cast aside in the act of mindless pleasure.

He doesn’t know where to put his hands, to keep his eyes shut or gaze down at her and cease this assault on his mouth to tell her that he loves her, that she feels like pure fucking paradise and he’s already on the verge of coming undone. He settles for moving, dragging himself in and out of her in slow movements, turning his face away to bite down on her shoulder when the feeling of her walls cinching him like a vise threatens to spur him into finishing on the spot.

“That’s just… god… you’re good at this,” she gasps when a hand is sunk between their bodies, flicking at her clit as he spears her open. Her hands find his back, raking her fingernails down past his shoulder blades. It’s agonizing, trying to fight back the urge to breed her full, watch his come spill out from her perfect cunt until he finds himself hard again. The very thought makes him gasp, grind himself deeper inside of her as her nails dig into his back.

“Mein… this is… you understand…,” he’s babbling, hardly coherent, and she only seems to accept it. The angel chants her agreement amidst the beginning of her rapture.

She cries out for him when she comes, her sex pulsing around him as she shivers that all restraint is immediately lost. She hugs him so tightly, squirms as she hisses a curse into his ear.

It’s a miracle he’s even lasted this long. He halts his pace for a mere second to prop himself up, gaze down at her in absolute reverence before that fire swallows him whole. It’s unceremonious when he comes: a growl and a wail as he buries he face into her neck and pumps every last drop of his seed into her pussy.

He doesn’t want to pull out, doesn’t want to leave such a complete embrace. The world has already ended for him, a long time ago on the very night they met. There’s no need to drag out their ruin with whatever else occurs when she’s out of his grasp.

She strokes over the marks she’s made, gentle, tickling touches of her fingertips and shy giggles when their eyes meet again.

“I thought I would never get to do this with you,” she admits, quiet when her hands drift to cup his jaw instead. “You’re perfect, you know that…?”

He wants to cry, wants to fuck all of his woes away, kneel before her and beg that she find a place where they can never be apart. Steal her away to some cabin up in the Alps, where flowers grow in thick patches on the hillsides, a wild garden of her very own.

“… You should stay with me,” he huffs into her ear, fingers dimpling the flesh of her hips as he tries desperately to force himself closer to her.

“You can’t mean the church,” she giggles. “So where should we go?”

“We can figure that out in the morning, hm?”

#könig x reader #konig x reader

414 notes · View notes

eat-limes-bitches · 1 year

Text

I Will Always Come When You Call

PAIRING: Female Reader x FATWS Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: When reader accidentally calls Bucky, he comes running to find out what’s wrong.

WARNINGS: ANGST, mentions of depression, fluff

Word Count: 1168

A/N: I disappeared from posting because, well, I had no will to write, I was in a rut. This is purely self soothing at this point because this is what I need right now. I promise that I have updates for the series soon, I just needed this first.

Enjoy!! <3

Dividers by Rookthorne

It was the same feeling, day in, day out, the constant numbing sadness for a loss that never happened. The monsters that emerged from the deepest parts of her mind and wrapped her consciousness in toxic thoughts. People always said the same things, “Get some air, it won’t do you any good being cooped up.” “Take a break, you’re just burnt out from working too hard.” That was her problem, she wasn’t working. She couldn’t. It's hard to do anything when you barely have the will to get out of bed, let alone work. She stared at the glowing numbers from the clock on her nightstand, indicating she was, once again, still awake at an unreasonable hour. She glanced at the dark screen of her phone that was resting on the bed next to her. Why was it there again? Oh, right. She was gonna call him. The corner of her lips twitched upwards at the thought. Bucky had always been there, they had been there for each other. After everything that they went through together, with Thanos, the Flag Smashers, his amends, they were together through it all and now that everything had calmed down, she was struggling to stay afloat. Unlocking her phone, her thumb hovered over the call button. What was she gonna say? “Hey Buck, I know it's 2:30 in the morning and nothing is wrong but I need you.” She shook her head. It was stupid, if either of them were to call the other at this time it should be him. She had no reason and no explanation as to why she was feeling this way.

Letting out a groan she leaned back and thumped her head against the headboard closing her eyes as she sunk a little deeper into her mind. “Doll? Are you ok?” Her eyes snapped open and down to her phone. Shit, she accidentally hit the dial. “Y/N are you ok? You’re worrying me sweets.” She shook her head slightly, “Yeah, sorry Buck.” She quickly hung up, cutting off whatever it was that Bucky was about to say, and throwing her phone to the other side of the bed. She hated feeling like this, this hopelessness that seemed to seep in through every pore on her skin and settle deep within her bones, like how a chill sets in after getting caught in the pouring rain. She was so deep within her mind that she didn’t notice the man that entered her flat. She didn’t hear him calling out to her and asking her where she was. Eventually the door to her bedroom opened, causing her to snap out of her trance in alarm, only to relax again when she saw Bucky standing there with a worried look on his face.

“God, there you are. You scared me to death, sweets.” He murmured as he crossed the room to sit next to her on the bed. She stared at him with a puzzled expression on her face, tracing her eyes across his features. His hair was messy, shoes missing, probably at the front door, dressed in a pair of sweats and a dark blue t-shirt that highlighted to worried look in his eyes. She continued to stare for a moment before she finally spoke, “You came..” Bucky blinked, confusion coloring his features as he replied, “Of course I did, you called.” She froze at his words, surprise seeping into her eyes as she looked at him, trying to decide if he was serious when he broke the silence, “What’s going on, darling?” She shook her head, looking away from him, “I- I honestly don’t know, and that’s the problem.” She melted as he placed an arm around her, pulled her into his side, a gentle sign for her to continue. “It’s just- god I’m not okay.” She leaned to rest her head against his shoulder as she struggled to find the words, “I.. I’m just not myself. My jaw hurts from grinding my teeth, I can’t sleep at night, not because I’m not tired, no, I’m exhausted. It’s like I’m too tired to sleep. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time. I’m spiraling, and I couldn’t even begin to tell you why.” Once she finished, Bucky let out a sigh and pulled her further into his embrace, as if holding her would shield her mind from the toxic thoughts that tried to take her from him. “Doll, you should have told me sooner.” He scolded softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She shrugged, “I didn’t want to worry or bother you. You’ve come so far in your own healing that I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

Bucky shook his head, “Y/N, look at me.” He placed hid flesh hand under her chin to raise her gaze so that she was looking at him, “You mean the whole fucking world to me, do you know that?” She tried to look away as color flooded her cheeks but he wasn’t having it, “I think of you every day. You’re my first thought when I wake up and the last one before I try to go to sleep. I want to help you, and before you even start with the whole, ‘you don’t have to help me’ bullshit, I want to help you.” He paused, moving the hand under her chin to thread his fingers through her hair as he looked over her weary face. “You don’t have to do this all on your own, my love, let me help.”

His words were a soft gentle caress against the opened wounds on her soul, something she didn’t realize she needed until she had a taste of it, and with the sugary sweet words filling the holes, the negative began to suffocate, trying desperately to escape but when entrapped in his honey coated words, they just died out. She nodded her head before she spoke, “Ok…ok.” “What do you need darling, not tomorrow, not in an hour, right now, what do you need?” Bucky asked. She traced the intricate lines on his vibranium hand that was situated around her middle before she spoke, “Can you just, hold me? Just for a little bit? I haven’t been able to sleep well for three day a-” Bucky cut her off by pulling her to lie down with him, tucking her head into his chest before reaching over and turning off the lamp on the nightstand. He wrapped his arms back around her and pressed kisses along her hairline until he reached her ear where he whispered, “Get some sleep sweets. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Wrapped up in Bucky’s warmth it wasn’t long before her eyes began to grow heavy, still she managed to move her head back to look over Bucky’s face as she whispered, “I still can’t believe you came.” Bucky leaned forward pressing his forehead against hers replying quietly, “I will always come when you call.”

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky angst #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader fluff #fatws bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky x reader angst

2K notes · View notes

potter-imagines · 10 months

Text

Family Sleepover

Pairing: Choso Kamo x Reader

Prompt: A relaxing friday night for Choso and Y/n takes a turn when Choso's little brother, Yuji, has a nightmare leading to a family sleepover.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning: modern Choso and reader, non sorcerer world setting, mentions of drinking and smoking, otherwise mainly fluff!

Notes: love love love choso, he doesn't get enough attention in writes so hopefully i'll have more choso x reader to come! <3 (gif credit to @fushiguro)

Rainfall smacked against the shingles on the roof while the weather outside only grew worse. A majority of souls dreaded nights filled with storming rain, although Y/n never truly understood why. Not only did the ‘disgusting’ weather provide her the perfect excuse to remain indoors, the cracks of lighting and the booming of thunder set a cozy mood as the rain poured down from the skies outside. The light from the flashing television brightened the darkened room to a glowing haze. Choso had his arm thrown over his girlfriend’s body and his back pressed up against the black headboard as Y/n curled herself into his side, her hands resting neatly on his chest.

It was a typical Friday night for the couple after an exhausting week for the both of them. Choso had put in three grueling nights of overtime while Y/n had run herself thin juggling her final semester of college writing three separate ten page essays and studying for finals between her part time job.

Instead of going out until the early hours of the morning bar hopping and clubbing like most couples their age, the two preferred the more intimate occasions of peaceful bliss wrapped in each other’s hold. Besides, babysitters weren’t cheap and between keeping up with rent, having enough food on the table, gas to get to work, bills and buying new clothes for a never ending growing boy, there wasn’t a surplus of funds left over to pay some high schooler to watch little Yuji every weekend night.

Yuji was the youngest of Choso’s brothers, his only surviving family member in fact. Shortly after his eighteenth birthday his entire family perished in an electrical fire that tore through his childhood home. The cause was natural yet their deaths hardly felt so. His mother had passed away in the hospital a day after the fire, while his little brother was the only member she could manage to stumble out of the home with. Yuji was a few months old at the time, and if he hadn’t still been sleeping in the bassinet next to their parent’s bed, Choso was sure he would’ve perished as well. He had received a call only hours after the fire was put out, being miles away at university, he rushed to his hometown immediately to discover the life changing news.

That tragic event was four years ago and ever since, Choso has been raising his youngest brother alone- well, they were alone, until through friends, Choso was introduced to Y/n. The couple met at nineteen and had been going strong since, much to his surprise. Choso struggled in the dating field prior to being a near ‘single dad’, and now that he had his kid brother to look after, he naturally assumed he’d never find a partner.

However Y/n proved herself different from any woman he’d ever met, and Yuji adored her. From the child's second birthday on, Y/n had been an essential part of their lives and she had no intentions of leaving, which she once again proved by blowing Choso’s mind and signing on to lease a small three bedroom home alongside him and Yuji. Three years later now and the couple were raising Yuji like a stable, healthy family, and Choso couldn’t be more grateful to have her in both of their lives.

Typical wasn’t an adjective that fit like a puzzle in their dictionary but they still tried to act like a normal 23 year old couple, hence the half full wine glasses sat on either side of the bed and the tightly packed pre roll waiting patiently on Choso’s side. Sure, they had a crazy five year old to look after, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t allowed to indulge in a bit of fun themselves, right?

A mutual favorite horror film of the couples was playing in the background. Y/n laid peaceful alongside Choso and the two cuddled on one another underneath the heavy stack of blankets. H/c hair tickled his skin as Choso situated his chin on the crown of her skull. Screams streamed from the television as a helpless victim took their chance at running through the winding forest trying to escape the crazed killer. Y/n’s body jerked as the girl managed to trip over a perfectly placed tree root and went stumbling down a large, leaf filled hill. The actress cried in fright as the killer stood at the top of the embankment, staring down at her disheveled state. Choso stole a peep down at his girlfriend, a rare smile coating his lips as he noticed her fully clinging to his naked chest. Once the girl was murdered and the screen cut to a new scene, her body visibly relaxed as her hold loosened.

Choso smirked at the action, his lips finding their way to the top of her head, placing a small kiss as his arms pulled her closer. He could feel her hands absentmindedly tracing patterns against his chest while her eyes were glued to the horror movie on the television. Every once in a while her frame would flinch against his as a new victim was slain and killed, making him laugh to himself at her jumpy nature. Not everyone found horror movies ‘relaxing’, so to say, but for the couple, it was their idea of an unwinding night.

Y/n shakily picked the wine glass up from the nightstand and took a reasonable gulp on the red liquid, then placed the cup back on the coaster. Her eyes casually shifted to her boyfriend, a mischievous smile playing on her pink lips as she motioned towards the joint resting on his side. Choso understood her thinking, not needing the use of words, and he chuckled. The mood felt all too perfect and the claming drag of a blunt was the bow to tie their night together in a beautifully wrapped present. However, as the saying goes, if something seems too good to be true, chances are it isn’t true.

Right as Choso went to reach for the bud sitting beside him, a loud, echoing shriek broke through the once mellow air causing both adults to spring in terror. Y/n gasped, sitting up immediately as she looked up to Choso who was already throwing the comforter off and his legs off the side of the bed to stand.

“Shit…” He cursed. Another scream hit the air as Choso grabbed the nearest shirt he could find and threw it on. Watching as he hurriedly redressed, Y/n extended her hand to flick the bedside lamp on, a worried hint to her tired gaze.

“Is that Yuuji?” Concern laced her words as Y/n watched her boyfriend throw a random shirt over his head. He nodded towards her, confirming her worry.

“Mmh, one second, babe. I’ll be right back.” Choso shared a quick kiss with his girl before sliding out the bedroom door. Stepping into the hall he quietly flipped on the ceiling light and walked the few steps to his brother’s room. Yuji’s door was decorated in various drawings, stickers, and paintings the young boy had made, making it hard to miss. The door was closed shut, but that didn’t stop the sound of muffled sobs and shaky breathing from breaking through. Twisting the golden knob, Choso slowly creaked the door open as he peeked his head around the wooden frame.

From his spot in the doorway Choso could see a small lump under the covers that was shaking like a leaf in a storm, much like the raging thunderstorm occurring outside the home. Entering the room, he quietly made his way into the bedroom and sat his body on the edge of the bed, careful as to not startle his younger brother. Choso reached his hand out to rub along what appeared to be the child’s back as he whispered,

“Hey, little man. Everything alright?”

The heavy blanket was ripped from the boy’s body at the sound of his savior’s voice as Yuji flung himself to his big brother’s arms, grasping at his shirt while his teary eyes leaked against the cotton.

“Choso!” He cried out. An iron grip clutched at his skin, tiny hands searching for stability in his hold.

“I’m here, don’t worry. Why’re you crying?” Choso hugged his body close to his chest, his large hand running up and down Yuji’s back in an attempt to comfort him. The small boy buried his head in his shoulder as the broken sobs continued.

“I-I had a-a bad dream a-and the thunder w-was so loud my… my whole room was shaking and… and I saw a monster was outside my window with big claws and sharp teeth- he was going to eat me!” Yuji shouted in fear. His voice trembled as he struggled to get his words free from his dry throat.

The image of a terrifying beast perched up on the branch staring at him through his window replayed on a loop in Yuji’s head, his brain creating a scarier image each time he recalled the monster. Tiny fists bundled the shirt between his fingers as Yuji clung to his older brother. Glancing down, Choso leaned back a pull so the boy was forced to look into his dark violet eyes. Despite his usual solemn look, Choso’s features were warmer- more comforting than Yuji had witnessed on the regular. A serious gaze crossed his stare as his thumb wiped a bundle of tears running down the child’s cheeks.

“Well you know that would never happen. Do you remember what I told you about monsters?” He questioned. Yuji rubbed at his eyes, his head shaking ‘no’ in response. Swiping his thumb across the underside of his leaking eyes, Choso wiped his rampant tears away.

“They’re not real. They’re just in our heads, right?” His finger tapped against his small forehead. “Even if monsters were real, your big brother would never let it eat you, I can promise that.”

Yuji peered up at his brother, his curious wide eyes on full display, as if his big brother had all the answers to life. If Choso told him the grass was blue and the sky was green, he’d believe him. To Yuji, his brother could do no wrong. A twinkle met his large brown eyes as his head tilted to the side,

“You’d beat him up?” He asked hopefully. A crack of a grin broke across his face as Choso nodded in agreement.

“Mmh.” Choso ruffled the pink of his hair, giving him a reassuring smile. Yuji cuddled himself against his chest once more, previous shaky breaths finally evening out to small hiccups. The redness to his plump cheeks were starting to fade leaving tiny blotches of hysteria in its wake. Those tears that seemed never ending like a rushing waterfall growing into quiet sniffles.

A steady silence filled the room until Yuji pulled his head away from Choso’s now damp shirt. With nervous eyes he hesitantly looked down to his fidgeting hands. Rubbing his palm against his heated skin, Choso wordlessly urged his kid brother to speak up, knowing there was clearly something swimming around his mind. Reaching out for the plush brown bear, Yuji held it to his chest as he inhaled steadily.

“Can… can I sleep in your bed, please big brother?” The flush of innocence to his tone was a gentle reminder to Choso that although his little brother was rather brave for his age, he was still only five years old and sometimes, extra reassurance was required.

“Sure, kiddo.”

Yuji leapt towards Choso, his small arms encircling his brother’s neck as he let out a cheer of delight. Smiling to himself, Choso plucked the blue star blanket he knew the child struggled to sleep without and stood from the bed. Yuji’s head laid against his shoulder as the pair started walking towards the master bedroom. Choso flicked the hallway light off and turned the handle to his room, stepping into the darkness with his brother in his hold.

The small lamp on her bedside was still lit as the two brothers entered the room, the sudden presence capturing Y/n’s attention. Choso didn’t fail to notice the smile that graced her beautiful features as she caught sight of the pink haired boy in his grasp, and the way her arms opened up on instinct. A gasp of excitement broke from Yuji’s chest as he met the eyes of his second favorite person in the world.

“Y/n!” Yuji shouted. Shaking from Choso’s arms, he scrambled against the fluffy duvet as he crawled to Y/n. A large grin illuminated on his face as he fell into her welcoming embrace. “Big brother is letting me sleep in his bed- do you think we can snuggle?”

His strawberry scented hair tickled against her chin as Yuji buried himself further in her chest, cheeks still slightly damp from his crying from before now pressed to her skin. Y/n drew her nails up and down his spine, scratching his back as one comforting their young would do, then kissed the side of his head.

“Of course, baby.”

Choso reached out for Yuji from behind and lifted him, allowing Y/n room to pull the blanket down so he could sneak in beside her. Once Yuji was under the covers he yanked the dark material up and settled in below his chin, his arms falling above the blanket then effortlessly positioned himself on his side so his little body was nearly attached to Y/n’s. Yuji innocently cradled his face into the warmth of her chest. Y/n giggled at his forwardness and wrapped her hold around him, pulling Yuji closer and kissing his ruby cheek, to which the boy snuggled in closer.

Choso couldn’t resist the chuckle that broke from his chest making the tattoo line across the bridge of his nose scrunch in amusement as he watched how easy his brother made himself at home in the bedroom he shared with his girlfriend. Yuji pranced in the room and fixed himself up in Choso’s bed next to his girlfriend like he owned the place- like he was the one paying rent. Tugging his shirt off, Choso threw the cotton to the side as he slipped into his side of the bed and shot Y/n an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, angel. Yuuji had a nightmare then was certain he saw a monster outside his window so he’s pretty shaken up.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for taking care of him, Cho. There’s plenty of room for all three of us up here.”

Choso’s eyes drifted to his nightstand, purple orbs landing on the sealed up backwoods as he mentally cursed himself, thank god Yuji hadn’t noticed it or Y/n was sure to chew his ass out. Looks like they’d have to save their smoke session for another night. Sliding open the bedside drawer, Choso swept the pre roll into the cupboard and shut it, tossing the blue lighter in alongside. The wine swayed in the glass from the movement, and he pushed it back a few inches so it was completely out of Yuji’s reach.

Turning his attention back to the two Choso nudged his finger against the chubby texture of his little brother’s cheek.

“But you’re coming in here to sleep, okay Yuuji? It’s bedtime, not playtime.” Yuji obediently bobbed his head in agreement, a twinkle of mischievousness sparking in his eyes. Choso knew that gleam all too well. Overall his kid brother was a relatively good listener, but there was always some catch, and when it came to bedtime, Yuji’s catch was his ability to ask a million and one questions before actually falling asleep. Y/n bit the inside of her cheek to keep from letting a laugh escape. Yuji was too sweet. Tapping his finger at Y/n’s arm, the small boy gestured towards the tv.

“Can I watch a little of your movie to go to sleep?” His question was suppressed by his face being shoved into Y/n’s neck, but the words were clear enough. Y/n glanced at her boyfriend, an uncertain raise to her brows. Before he could decline his brother’s request, she shook her head softly.

“Well… it’s sort of scary… maybe we should put something different on until you’re asleep.”

Instead of changing the channel, Choso opted for turning the volume down. It was a film he’d seen a thousand times over and he knew there wouldn’t be another scary scene for a good fifteen minutes, which opened the perfect window of sleep for Yuji. Unlike Choso who required a minimum of thirty minutes until sleep could greet him, Yuji could fall asleep at the drop of a pin, and based on the droopiness to his eyes, sleep didn’t seem too far off for him.

“How ‘bout you try closing your eyes for sleep and we can have a fun movie day tomorrow, alright? Y/n and I are gonna go to bed soon, too.” Choso promised. The young boy tilted his head up towards his big brother, almost searching his features for any sign of lies, but Choso only stared back. Once he was sure his brother was telling the truth, Yuji nodded and forced himself to close his large eyes.

Both adults watched the movie without a word, cautious to give Yuji a fair chance to fall asleep. Images passed on the screen of a seemingly happy family as they began moving into their new home. The children ran around outside the home, giggling and shouting with glee as the parents carried loads of boxes into the home. The scene hadn’t struck either Choso nor Y/n as one of importance as they both knew the ill awaited fate to meet the family, but through half lidded eyes, Yuji’s interest was quipped. The quietness lasted for no longer than a minute when Yuji moved his head, pink hair brushing against Y/n’s chin, and knocked at his brother’s shoulder.

“Big brother…”

“Hm?” Choso replied. Yuji’s fixation was back on the television screen as he pointed his finger to the image.

“Are you and Y/n gonna have babies?”

Both heads immediately snapped to the young boy, a gasp of shock sounding from Y/n at the sudden inquiry as her eyebrows shot up towards the sky. If someone was to take a picture of her face, she was sure she’d look like she’d witnessed a ghost. Choso’s mouth hung astoundment, the innocently worded question clearly hitting him like a smack across the face.

“What?”

Y/n quietly stared at her boyfriend for help, unsure what to say in response. Yuji on the other hand sat unwavered as he wiggled against her, trying his best to find the most comfortable position. Choso lifted the comforter of the blanket so Yuji had more access to cover his small body, then provided a brief shrug. Giving his girlfriend a look of uncertainty, Choso sighed at the oddly deep question.

“Not for a while, little man. We’ve already got you to take care of so I think we’ll wait a bit.” Choso spoke softly.

“Oh… okay.” Disappointment flooded his tone. Seeing his face drop in such a sad manner made Choso feel a bit bad for letting him down. Of course the couple planned on having children, it was a topic they’d discussed more times than they could count, but it wasn’t necessarily a priority at the moment for either of them. Choso wanted Yuji in school, and Y/n to have her dream wedding to him before either of them seriously took action to have children of their own. In the meantime, they certainly enjoyed practicing the baby making process- but Yuji didn’t need to know about all that.

Yet it seemed Yuji’s curiosity was not quite settled as he once again tapped Choso on the shoulder,

“Big brother?”

“Yeah?” He tiredly mumbled out. Y/n laughed at the exasperation in Choso’s voice. It was no secret, Yuji had hit that age where his questions and curiosity had no end. Every meal was filled with a game of 21 questions asking what was in the food, how was it made, where did the ingredients come from, why does it call for carrots and not chocolate, and so on. His mind had no limits, and most of the time, Choso was grateful for that, except for now when Yuji was meant to be asleep, not firing inquiries left and right. Stealing a glance to Y/n over his shoulder, Yuji turned back to his big brother, a shade of scarlet painting his skin.

“Can I marry Y/n when I’m a big kid like you?” Large brown eyes bore up at Choso as Yuji hugged his teddy closer, a faint blush flushing his cheeks. Choso was aware of his little brother’s crush on his girlfriend, and honestly, he couldn’t blame the kid. Y/n was attentive, caring, selfless, kind hearted, and not to mention gorgeous, so he could see plain as day why Yuji had a crush on his girlfriend. Still, the question knocked him back a step in surprise. Tonight's line of thoughts racing around the child’s mind seemed larger than normal.

“I’m sorry, little man but I was planning on marrying Y/n. I don’t think it’d be very fair if you stole her from me, do you?” His brows pulled together into a thin line at his brother’s new inquiry. First babies, now he wanted to marry Y/n? Choso was scared to hear what Yuji had up his sleeve to ask next. The child’s expression went glum once again, a heavy pout coating his pink lips.

“No… I guess not… I just really like to snuggle with her…” He admitted. His confession brought a cheesy grin to Y/n’s face. Yuji had always been adorable to her but now she found him even more of a sweetheart. Arms still wrapped around him, Y/n pulled Yuji in further to give him a hug, which he happily accepted.

“You can always snuggle with me, bubs, but I’ll bet when you’re a big kid like your brother, you’re gonna meet a pretty girl you’d rather cuddle with instead.” Y/n laughed slightly as she glanced down at the young boy. She found it irresistibly adorable Yuji had developed a crush on her, but she also knew it was sure to fade as he grew, nonetheless, it was one of the cutest things to her. Kissing his temple, Y/n gave him one last squeeze then loosened her grip as a loud huff tumbled from Yuji’s parted lips.

“Not true! You’re the prettiest girl ever! I don’t want another girl- gross!” Yuji’s tongue fell from his mouth as he made an absurd gagging sound. In his mind, the idea of snuggling another girl was the most disgusting thing he’d ever heard- but snuggling his big brother’s girlfriend? Now that was a totally different story. Choso sent a flick to the side of Yuji’s head, snickering to himself as the boy yelped and grasped for the point of impact.

“We’ll see if you change your mind, how ‘bout that?” Yuji shook his head ‘yes’, agreeing to his brother’s words. Y/n suppressed a giggle as she looked over to Choso, amused by his twinge of annoyance at what she found to be adorably harmless questions from Yuji.

While Choso quietly pondered over his brother’s words, the small boy seemed to be warming up to the idea of bedtime. Yuji’s big eyes were casually drooping lower and lower with every blink he took.

“I think someone is sleepy…” Y/n’s tone was teasing as she poked the chub of Yuji’s cheek. His usual hyperactive nature was calmed down to a simmer, and Y/n could feel him sinking into her hold. Not much longer and she was sure he’d be out like a light. As if reading her mind the young boy let out a loud yawn.

“I’m just gonna close my eyes for a little bit.” Yuji seemed to be making the promise more to himself than anyone else. Choso nodded, feigning belief, his brown strands threatened to slip from the rubber tie holding his hair in two loose spiky ponytails as he moved his head.

“Okay, kid. I believe you.” Choso smirked.

Twisting his body, Yuji pressed his back against Y/n’s chest. She wrapped her hold around his smaller frame, allowing his little arms to lay ontop of hers, then reached his other hand out to hold the edge of his brother’s pillow. Choso could feel his tiny legs folded, Yuji’s knee pressing against his side. The kid was never one for a normal sleeping position, Choso thought to himself.

Nuzzling his head against the plush mattress, Yuji peaked his eyes open and gave his brother a soft smile. The hand clutching Y/n’s arm gave a squeeze as his sleepy voice mumbled,

“I love you, big brother… I love you, Y/n…”

“I love you too, Yuji, sweet dreams.” Y/n leaned down to press a loving kiss to the boy’s forehead. Pulling away, she brought her hand up to stroke at his light pink strands. Choso smiled to himself at the sight, then reached his hand out to pinch at the excess of skin on his little brother’s cheek.

“Love you, little man. Sleep tight.”

A stillness enveloped the room in a circle of quietness, the sound of Yuji’s faint breathing followed by light snores being the only steady sound. Choso waited a few minutes before reaching for the remote and turning the volume up slightly, their mutual resistance to having Yuji listening in now wiped clean. Although both had their outward attention focused on the movie playing, neither were mentally zeroed in on it. In fact, they were both thinking about the same thing, thinking about what Yuji had said; having kids, getting married, spending the rest of their lives together.

Of course this was a common thought that roamed around in Choso’s head, he had just never realized he wasn’t the only one who thought about it. Cracking a smirk, Choso settled his arm around the middle pillow supporting Yuji and placed his hold on Y/n’s shoulders. His fingers unintentionally tickled her skin and her body subconsciously melted into his touch. Letting out a chuckle, Choso turned his head in her direction,

“Can’t believe my kid brother is trying to steal my girl from me.” Y/n laughed at his remark, amused by the idea of Yuji wanting to marry her when he grows up. It was a sweet gesture in her eyes and made her feel grateful that he held such a high opinion on her. Of course, it was his elder brother Y/n planned to wed, the thought meant the absolute world to her.

“I don’t know, babe, give it a few years and he just might do it.”

Choso lolled his head to the side, a look of idiocy gracing his features as he rolled his eyes. Grabbing her free hand he brought her fingers up to his face and pressed his lips against her ring finger. Although the finger was bare of jewelry at the moment, Choso was determined to change that fact soon. Without Y/n’s knowledge Choso had been saving a portion of his work checks on the side, saving for a sparkling diamond ring to adorned her hand.

Knowing his girlfriend, Y/n would accept a bread bag tie or a ring pop even. Money wasn’t something they were swimming in, and she loathed the rare occurrences Choso would splurge on her. However, Choso wanted her to have a diamond ring- no, he needed her to have one. After all she had helped him through, all the times she had been there for him and his brother, Choso wanted her to see how much he truly appreciated her, so no ordinary ring would do for him, it needed to be perfect. Laying her hand against his chest, Choso narrowed his gaze playfully.

“You’re talking like I won’t have a ring on that pretty finger and you tied down to me by then.” Laughing at his statement Y/n simply shook her head at him.

“I’m already tied down to you, Choso. You’re stuck with me forever.” Y/n teased, sticking her tongue out momentarily to tease him. She knew if he had asked her to marry him right then, she’d say yes, zero hesitation in her answer. It was no secret that she planned on spending the rest of her life by his side.

“Good, ‘cause I wasn't planning on letting you go.”

Yuji stirred between them, faint groans of tiredness breaking from his lips as his body jerked in his sleep. Y/n retracted her hand from Choso’s body and soothingly ran her fingers up and down the child’s back, silently lulling him back to his peaceful sleep. Yuji cuddled further into her hold, a sigh of contentment escaping his parted lips. Choso watched the two, his heart fluttering as Y/n effortlessly brought comfort to his brother without even a word.

Glancing up to her quiet boyfriend, Y/n sent him a sweet smile.

“Are you staying up for a while?”

“Yeah, I’m not too tired yet but I won’t be too late.” He nodded. It was no secret Choso had adopted a poor habit of staying awake until the sun rose, especially on the weekends. No matter how much effort Y/n devoted to breaking this habit, it lived on.

Propping herself on her elbow, and cautious for the child in between, Y/n reached across the space between the couple. Receiving the unspoken message loud and clear, Choso turned his face, allowing opportunity for their lips to touch as he kissed her sweetly. The exchange was short and loving, but Choso took every advantage of the moment as he relished in the feeling of his lover pressed against him. His lips greeted hers in a passionate embrace, despite their awkward positioning. A tiny hint of a smile cracked through her lips as Y/n pushed her lips against his, gentle yet determined to prove her love, which he effortlessly felt. Pulling apart, Y/n grinned up at him as she leaned back into her spot on the bed, snuggling up against her pillow. Blinking her e/c eyes up to him, a stroke of red flushed her s/c cheeks as she blushed. Y/n could spend the rest of her life kissing her lover and still would never grow old of the butterflies his lips released inside her soul.

“Okay,” She whispered. “Turn the tv off at a good time, you had a long day.” Choso’s hand ran along the top of her head, petting at her hair with a gentle smile. His insides fuzzed at the sincerity to her words. The caring nature Y/n held always had him feeling so loved and looked out for, it truly meant the world to him.

“Thanks, pretty girl. You’re always taking care of me… well, us.” He gazed down at his sleeping brother. Y/n leaned further into his loving strokes as she reached her arm gently across Yuji’s body to lay still against Choso’s chest. The action was simple, but the effectiveness was strong. A chorus of chills danced down his spine at her touch to his bare skin. There was no element of sexualizing to her touch, no hidden agenda, no further want but a safe place to rest.

“You say that as if two don’t take care of me as well. We all need each other.” Y/n argued. A comfortable silence greeted the pair as Choso basked in the comfort of her hand against his skin. The movie on the TV played on deaf ears while Y/n’s eyes slowly grew heavy in weight.

Reaching around his shoulder Choso grabbed the wine glass from the night stand, bringing the glass to his lips he sipped the red liquid, feeling his body relax at the taste. Red wine had always been a favorite of his, a taste Y/n had developed a liking to after multiple tries of her lover convincing her it was the superior choice. Many things had changed in her life after Choso and Yuji, such as red wine over white, nights in over nights out, and sharing the bed over sleeping alone.

Choso set the glass down, opening his mouth to make a remark about how the chilled beverage was now warm and apologize once again for the bump in their night, when he was suddenly taken aback by the look on his lover's face- the love pouring from just one look.

“About tonight-” A quick roll of the eyes and a motion of the hand caused Choso’s words to fall flat against his tongue.

“Don’t. I wouldn’t choose anything over this.” Y/n smiled.

Careful for the boy laid between them, both leaned across the mattress, unable to resist the need to feel her once more, allowing their lips to meet in the middle. Choso’s hand curled around the side of her face, his thumb caressing the skin as his lips devoted all the passion and love his heart could express. His soft kiss brought a sense of home to Y/n, her hold clasping on the back of his neck, not allowing a chance to break. She swore she could feel her heart physically warming as his lips moved against hers, savoring every moment of his love. Every kiss they shared held a piece of their love, yet this one was received stronger.

Pulling away, Y/n leaned her forehead against his, quickly pressing a final ‘goodnight’ kiss to the corner of his lips, causing a smile to rise. Even in the poorly lit room Y/n could see the red rush of blood to his cheeks. Leaning back she cozied herself underneath the heap of blankets, allowing Yuji to cling to her once more in his asleep state. Resting fully against her pillow, Y/n looked up to Choso one last time before allowing her heavy eyes to finally shut for the night.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.” Choso whispered through the still air.

It didn’t take long for her even breathing to be heard and he was certain she had fallen asleep alongside his brother. Silently slipping out his phone from his side Choso snapped a series of photos of the two snuggled against one another, a grin adorning his lips as he did so. Yeah, he thought, I’m putting a ring on that finger real soon.

#choso x reader #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso kamo x reader #choso imagine #jjk imagine #jjk #jjk x reader #yuji itadori #yuji #yuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader #choso #gojo #geto #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

904 notes · View notes

utterlyotterlyx · 3 months

Text

Wicked Game

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

Eris x CassianSister!Reader

Summary - Eris did everything, everything he could to protect you. He'd never thought that he'd ever have a mate, that he wasn't worthy enough, until he met you, Cassian's sister and everything fell into place.

Warnings - death, blood, mentions of torture, heartbreak, kidnapping, shattered bonds, angst.

I'm so sorry.

Eris would find any reason he could to not leave you. No reason was good enough to pull him from your arms, to disrupt the bubble of serenity he had made with you.

He had been dumbfounded, the shock evident on his face, when he had met you, spied you across the ballroom wedged between Cassian and Azriel, both of whom growled at any lingering eye. It was obvious that you felt uncomfortable as you trailed behind the inner circle, with your shoulders slightly hunched and eyes glued to the floor. You were too beautiful to feel so out of place, forest green fabric clung to your figure with shimmering gold embellishments hanging from your shoulders, and a high slit up your right thigh, exposing golden skin and tight muscle.

It had snapped for him then, the moment your scent soared through the room, fresh rain and rosemary with a hint of oak that he inhaled, gulped in and held onto, allowing it to drown his lungs.

That night was the first night he had spoken to you, the bond hadn't snapped for you yet, and he was rather content in listening to you, learning about you without the pressure of the mating bond in your words. He watched your full lips move as you told him who you were, Y/N, a sister of the inner circle, Cassian's little sister, Rhys' and Azriel's by proxy.

No wonder they were snarling at any male who tried to get close to you.

Eris couldn't keep his eyes off of you, ones that reminded you of aged whisky, swirling pools of amber and speckled gold. You told him about your love of helping others, evident in the school you had opened for orphaned Illyrian children where you taught them how to bake and paint, to sing and dance, you helped them heal from the trauma inflicted upon them in the Illyrian camps.

After that night, Eris had found any reason he could to venture to the Night Court, citing political cooperation as the reason for his visits which wasn't exactly a lie. Mor wasn't happy about it at first, but Rhys had told her they were working on a way to usurp Beron, to change the course of the Autumn Court for the better, that Eris wasn't as bad as he seemed.

Eris had visited you at your school that Rhys funded without question, your wings were cruelly taken from you as a child, no one could stop it, and the crescent moon scars peaked out from the back of any dress you wore. You had assured him it was fine, that they rarely ever caused you pain whilst you rubbed small circles into the skin of the small child wrapped up in your arms, soothing his anguish away with your touch.

He had noticed your gift on his first visit to the school, how the small girls whimpering in pain found immediate peace after your touch, you were able to take the pain away, able to bring peace upon the most tormented of souls. It made him adore you even more, as if those spheres of brown and sage green didn't have him in a chokehold already.

"You're her mate?" Cassian's hazel eyes ignited with rage, his fingers dug into the arms of his seat, threatening to rip the leather apart if he'd apply just a whisp more pressure.

Eris had told Rhys on his fifth visit, he had told the High Lord that the bond had snapped for him at the Autumn Ball six months ago, how he hadn't told you and was happy to wait until it snapped for you too. Then the cavalry had been called in, and he found himself sat in front of the entirety of the inner circle, all of them present but you.

"Yes," Eris couldn't show his nerves, telling your family of the bond was something he foresaw you doing together, as a couple, but you were still none the wiser to his affections. "She doesn't know, and I have no intention of telling her. I would have already."

Azriel thought about it, how much happier you were when Eris was around, which had become often for the heir. The wide smile that showed your gleaming teeth, the twinkle in your eye as you answered his genuine questions, the more often than not moments where you dazed into the sky with that lovestruck vacancy whilst holding one of his letters in your fingers.

No one was particularly thrilled about it, not after what had happened to Mor, but amongst all of the bickering Azriel was the voice of truth, "She loves you, Eris," it pained him to say it, to say that he saw it even if the bond hadn't snapped for you yet. Azriel turned to Nesta, the closest thing you had to a sister, "You know it."

Nesta nodded sadly, you were everything to her, her best friend, a sister by extension, you understood her pain and torment, you had helped her to heal, to put herself back together piece by piece, "Yes," she looked to Cassian, "She does. She told me."

Hope jolted in Eris' chest, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute, the need to reach you almost overwhelming him. Eris didn't see the eldest Archeron sister stand to soothe her mate, he didn't hear her tell him that this was what you wanted, what made you happy, that it was what you longed for.

Cassian looked to the Autumn heir, a softer expression falling over his features, "Y/N deserves the best, she deserves everything good and pure. Can you give that to her? Can you give my sister the life she deserves?"

"I can," Eris showed no doubt, and suffered under the gaze of the inner circle, he'd suffer for however long he needed to if it meant you, gloriously perfect you, were waiting on the other side.

"Not right now you can't," Mor stood at the back of the room, arms folded against her chest as she looked down on Eris with a mixture of disgust and fear, "Not when Beron is still ruling over Autumn, she wouldn't be safe with you, not when Beron suddenly decides he wants to hurt us."

"I can protect her-"

"You couldn't protect me."

Eris had always carried guilt with him for how things had played out with Mor, but this was different, you were his mate, his fated companion.

"I couldn't stop what happened to you, and I'm sorry that I was the cause of so much pain for you, for all of you. I wish I could go back and say no, that I would be brave enough to spit in his face and defy him," Mor knew he was telling the truth, that deep down he did regret everything that had happened, and her gaze softened, "Y/N is my mate, I have spent months getting to know her. Y/N is bold and beautiful, the most caring soul I've ever encountered, parts of all of you live within her. The best parts of you. She has Cassian's humour and Mor's wit, she loves painting and reading and nature, she welcomes the shadows like old friends, and she's consumed by her love for you all. She loves you all so much."

"He's right. I do," gravity fell from beneath Eris as he turned to see you standing in the doorway, no one had noticed you creep in, no one had heard the door open and shut, no one had heard the padding of your feet sound across the floor.

The sun surrounded you, almost illuminating your figure as you leaned against the doorframe, your long pale green dress brushing against the stone floor and eyes flittering across the room before finding Eris. Your mate.

"You stupid male," you told him with a smirk, a curled strand of hair fell over your shoulder, your arms rested at your sides and your eyes held a playfulness to them.

It clicked, that golden thread tying you to him that was once quiet, searching for the other side, now hummed, no, it sang. "You knew?"

"Since your first visit to the school when you scooped Pippa up into your arms and sang that Autumn lullaby to her, she's never let anyone hold her like that. I knew you were meant to be mine from that moment," you tugged on the bond and his hand shot to his chest at the sensation.

"Yours," the word fell from his lips and the room pulsated with that uniquely vibrant power that radiated from the fulfilled mating bond, it was stifling, nothing anyone could move against.

Eris had moved to you then, you pushed yourself from the doorframe as he approached, allowing him to take your face in his hands and run them through your hair whilst you became lost in his whisky amber eyes. He pressed his forehead to yours, the tips of your noses touching and his breath fanning across your face, "We can wait, I don't want you to feel pressured into accepting this."

"Just kiss me, Eris," your voice was barely a hush above a whisper, you peered up at him with pleading eyes, telling him that you were ready, that you wanted this. Him.

The gap between you closed and his lips met yours in an embrace that could only be described as reality shifting. It was like your soul had ignited, like it was now entwined with a twin flame and they danced together in perfect sync. Eris' lips were soft, and his kiss was so tender and gentle as his tongue swept against your bottom lip, it savoured every piece of you that you offered to him, and he drank you in without doubt, with no care at who was watching.

You were his forever, and he was your eternity.

Eris couldn't breathe as he hurtled through the halls of the Forest House.

You were meant to be in Velaris, you had told him you'd be there waiting for him.

It wasn't safe to leave you in Autumn without him, it had been decided that you'd reside with your family whilst he was away dealing with treaty issues with Spring and Day by order of Beron, which had become easier now that Tamlin and Helion knew of your mating bond.

Eris had entered the House of Wind with only one thing on his mind, you.

The bond between you was muted, he hadn't felt you for a couple of weeks, which was normal. You had decided to mute the bond, turn it off, whilst he was away, he didn't need to be scared and pulled away from another meeting when pain passed down the bond toward him. The pain you took from others seemed to travel to him and he had always thought something had happened to you. So, it was easier to turn it off, to send the odd tidal wave of adoration down it every now and again so he'd know you were waiting for him.

His world tumbled when he entered the house to bewildered expressions once he asked where his mate was, only to be told that you had returned to Autumn two weeks ago, that you had received a letter from him and disappeared with a love sick grin of barely contained excitement on your face.

"I never sent that letter," he told Cassian whose eyes widened with horror and fear, he screamed for Rhys and Azriel, for Mor and Nesta, telling them what had happened and that Eris hadn't felt her in two weeks.

Eris disregarded Rhys' words, to find her together, as a family, he couldn't wait. Eris winnowed right into the main foyer of the Forest House, sniffing like a bloodhound for a speckle of your scent.

It lingered in the air, rosemary and oak, the freshness of last nights rainfall mixed in with something else he couldn't quite decipher, and he sped toward it. Eris ignored all of the guards and servants who looked at him with pity and sadness, he ignored the solemn tinge to the atmosphere, he just needed you. His mate. The love of his life. His everything.

"I love you," the words fell from your lips, you couldn't stop them. The fire roared beside you from the place on the floor, your body entangled with your mates as he traced faint circles around the crescent moon scars on your back and peppered kisses into your hair. "I love you more than the wildflowers crave the autumn breeze. I love you more than the ocean loves her creatures."

Eris rolled you over as tears pooled in the corners of your eyes, he caressed your cheek and ran his thumb over your wobbling bottom lip, "I love you more than you could ever love me, my sweet, perfect mate," he pressed a kiss to your lips, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket, "I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you, I never thought I deserved a mate, or anyone for that matter. Then you came, you came and made my life make sense, you gave it a purpose."

You listened intently, you felt his touch rolling down you arms and across your stomach, already so familiar with every scar and perfect imperfection of your body as you told him, "If I ever one day leave this world, I will look ahead to the next adventure and hold its hand, and I will look back with my other entwined in yours. Wherever my soul may wander, I know it will always find you. Our love isn't made to last just one lifetime, it's made to extend across universes and worlds. Even when I am stardust, floating around in nothingness, when the last part of my soul begins to fade away, I will love you."

Eris followed your scent, that melody of beauty, all the way down the deepest parts of the Forest House, his stomach twisting in agony as he realised where you were beckoning him.

Turning a corner, all the air in his lungs was ripped from him, he called your name, pleading you to sit up from the stone table where you lay. The room was covered in blood and discarded weapons, iron clung to it. To you.

Eris took a step forward, the only light in the room was on you, the light had always found you. It came from a skylight that displayed the stars above, it illuminated you in their glow, and your head was tilted to it, as if you were idly staring at the sky and dreaming like you usually did.

A sob caught in his throat, "No," his face twisted and he reached for you, taking your cold hand in his own as he forced himself to look at you.

Your eyes were open and staring at the world beyond the skylight, your lips were bloody and chapped, there was no light in you, no golden hue to your skin, no joy in your eyes. There was nothing. Eris wasn't breathing as he looked at your body, as he looked at the fourteen long tally marks that had been carved into your stomach and the purple bruises coating you hips and legs, as he found your still tear stained cheeks and the emerald ring he had proposed to you with still on your finger with a depleted shine.

Eris cried, he roared as he felt that fire consume his body, "I love you. Please, I'll do anything. Please," he begged as he pressed his forehead to yours, stroking your matted hair with his hand, tucking it behind your pointed ears of which the tips of had drooped slightly.

He pressed his lips to yours, that burning fire that caused your own to dance now waltzed alone.

Then he felt it, he felt the bond completely shatter, he felt that tendril of golden thread pang back to him like broken elastic. A once burning love that consumed everything he was, now a broken tether dancing in a storm cloud with nothing to attach to, with no light on the other side.

Eris was broken.

He didn't feel the bodies enter the room behind him, he didn't hear their sobs, he didn't hear Cassian's cries as he collapsed into Nesta. Eris looked at you, he looked at the side of your face and remembered you lying next to him, hands raised to the ceiling as they played with his own, he remembered how your chest vibrated when you laughed, he remembered the love you gave him in your eyes and all of the promises of ruling together and creating your own herd of beautiful red haired children. Promises of changing the world.

With a strangled voice, Eris whispered to you, tears streaming down his face and pattering against the stone where your lifeless body lay, "Even when I am stardust, floating around in nothingness, when the last part of my soul begins to fade away, I will love you. It was always you, my sweet, perfect mate."

Authors Note

Ngl, I actually cried writing this. I think I got a bit carried away.

I apologise to myself and to you all profusely.

335 notes · View notes

homely-lunatic · 7 months

Text

one of the things I think is rly interesting about the usher kids' deaths is that there's a clear linear pattern in how much influence verna has on the way they die, starting with virtually no influence and ending in a death 100% orchestrated by her.

like okay. perry's death? completely his fault. the only influence we see verna have on him is in her attempts at convincing him to call off the party and not blackmail people. the acid was already in the tanks, he made the negligent decision to hook up the tanks to the water system without testing them. if he'd never met verna, the party would have gone on exactly as planned and he would have died via acid rain anyways.

then there's camille. her death is similar to perry's in that there's a clear cause -> effect of her breaking into a lab full of chimps hyped up on adrenaline -> being mauled by a chimp, but there's also little hints at verna's interference. camille talks to verna right before she dies, its implied via the photo she takes that the chimp that killed her appeared to her as verna for a moment, and there's also the question of how the chimp got out in the first place. yes she probably would have died in this manner anyways based on her own decisions, but there's slightly more of a direct influence from verna than perry got.

with leo, we know that him initially killing pluto was a hallucination thanks to his drug use, but I get the impression that everything that follows is a blend of verna messing with him and further drug-induced hallucinations. the pet store he visits is actually an abandoned building full of rats that verna alters his perception of, and his visions of her in his apartment definitely feel more verna-induced than drug-induced, yet there's also kind of the implication that all the stuff with the hammer leading up to leo's death is drug hallucination-related. we also see verna appear to him multiple times; she's not just a single mysterious figure at a party or a lone security guard, she's now running a store and coming to his house and talking to him on multiple occasions.

vic is similar to leo in that her death is caused by a slow descent into madness, but the way in which this plays out is directly caused by verna. yes vic was planning on going forward with human trials, but verna is the one who shows up and poses as a test subject. there's still ambiguity when it fully comes to the question of supernatural influence, and verna's insertion into vic's life was more specific than leo's but also broad enough that its reasonable to argue that things might have played out the same had she not been there. would everything with ally dying and vic spiraling have played out the exact same way if the human trial had happened later, or if another test subject had showed up? maybe, but the actual course of events that transpired only happened because of verna's direct influence on them.

but tammy was terrorized for weeks by verna before she died. verna shows up as a replacement escort, then continues to show up in the background of tammy's life. she shows up in her apartment, appears to her in a supernatural-ish way at the goldbug launch, and when it comes to tammy's actual death she's in there fucking with her through the mirrors. I guess you could argue that she still wouldve gotten super paranoid over the launch and maybe started to hallucinate the original escort following her? but unlike the rest of them (except vic, who I feel also falls into this category), her death doesn't feel like it would have necessarily played out the exact same way it did had verna not been there. she only dies because she smashes a mirror that verna is taunting her from.

and then finally frederick, who didnt get a choice (not that he deserved one), verna steps in and 100% causes his death in a very specific way that wouldnt have happened had she not directly interfered with his life.

and then you look at the fact that the siblings died in reverse order of age, which is also in the order of shortest amount of time spent as a member of the usher family to longest, and the fact that the two who objectively had the most interference from verna in their respective deaths were the only two who were actually alive when roderick made the deal..... idk I feel like there's something there.

#fall of the house of usher #the fall of the house of usher

598 notes · View notes

beautysamour · 11 months

Text

I’ve done the math, there’s no solution.

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: miguel o’hara x reader

✧ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: miguel o’hara

✧ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in every universe you fall in love with miguel o’hara, and in every universe, it doesn’t end well.

✧ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, implied suggestive moment, italicized words in paragraphs mean it’s a flashback

a/n: inspired by that one trend where someone lost who they consider their true love and they say “in another universe we’re (something emotional to them. ex: you have my picture in your wallet).”

Being associated with Spider-Man was a risk in of itself. Wherever Spider-Man went, death followed close by.

“Lyla, make sure to shut everything down before I leave.”

Miguel craned his neck to the side cracking it in the process, he glanced at the digital clock, 6:30. Right on time.

“Ok.”

All of the projectors Miguel was previously watching still surrounds him as the platform began to lower. When it’s a comfortable height from the ground, he jumps off adjusting the tie on his suit that now took place of where his spider suit was.

As he was about to fully exit the room, the sound of a familiar voice paralyzes all the muscle in his body. “Lyla,” he nearly yelled out causing the artificial intelligent being to pause in her movements.

“Not that one. Leave that one on.”

“Uh, ok,” Lyla teleported to another screen not thinking anything of Miguel’ order.

Miguel practically ran over to the screen of where the voice came from, his thoughts growing frantic, it’s you.

He watches as he listens to your laughter, a laughter that he wanted to put into one of his serums so he could inject it into his system, allowing you to take over all of his senses, caused by a version of himself.

“Miguel, stop,” you said in between laughs making no effort to actually push him away, only making an effort to splash him with water and soap.

“Uh, boss,” Lyla popped out from behind the screen, “You’re going to be late if you don’t get going now.”

Miguel blinked remembering what he had plans for. Clearing his throat he nodded to Lyla and continued his way out the building.

—

Miguel was never interested in flowers but he always made sure to buy them for you. On your first date, your favorite flowers were settled in a vase to the side of your table restaurant. He remembers the way you tried to keep your calm as you glanced at the flowers ever few seconds, the way your eyes lit up and the forced control over the corners of your lips that you tried to keep down when ever you looked at the vase.

He almost stole it when you two left the restaurant, and it was at that moment that he knew he fell deep, and there was no way he was going to reach the surface again.

“That’ll be $35.99.”

Miguel had no idea how much money he’s spent at this flower shop, all he knows was that it was your favorite and nothing else mattered after finding that out.

The sun was starting to set and Miguel had everything he needed for your anniversary date. Normally he would still be at the spider society, making sure everything was in check, no anomalies running around in any universe.

He remembers an argument you two got into during your first anniversary. It had been a while since Miguel was in a relationship and he forgot all about what it was like to prioritize himself over work, and in return ended up letting you down.

He wasn’t even sure why it even turned into an argument, it was obvious you were in the right.

“I was in that restaurant for four hours! Four, before it started raining and I come back to you injured?”

Your hair was drenched from the rain, you immediately ran back to your shared place after getting a call from Jess telling you that he refused to get medical treatment. While yes you were upset that he was late to your anniversary dinner, you couldn’t deny that what really set you off was that he got hurt and was planning on throwing on a suit to cover it up.

“Mi vida,” he groaned out not wanting to argue with you. Why couldn’t you understand that he had work?

You seemed to have only gotten more angry, and Miguel braced himself as he watched you come over to him with a cold bag of peas in your hand—ready to catch it only for you to avoid his eyes when you stand in front of him, the feeling of worry and hurt making itself known in your eyes.

You press the bag of peas to his biggest bruise, “Today is our anniversary for getting together. I don’t want it to also be an anniversary for me loosing you.”

Miguel was sure he felt his heart break at your words, guilt finally catching up to him. He took your chin in his hand, tilting it upwards to force you to look into his eyes.

“Perdóname, mi vida,” his eyes softened as they trailed down to your lips, “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Yeah? Well, you did,” your voice slightly wavered at the end of your sentence. It wasn’t that you thought him incapable of protecting himself, you just didn’t want to see the day where you would get a call revealing that his skills weren’t enough.

He caresses your check and presses a kiss against your forehead, “From now on, I’ll make sure to communicate a sudden change in plans before leaving, does that sound ok?”

When you gives him a deadpanned stare he forces himself to continue, “I will make sure to leave work early during any special occasions.”

“And not go on any life threatening mission that lead to your stubborn self refusing help before said special occasions? Of course there are exceptions, like if it’s really really bad, but in general.”

He huffed out a laugh, “Yes. That too.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you truly look into his eyes, giving you a wounded look that makes his heart clench, and an indication that you were really taking his words to heart, “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Miguel was never the best with words, he preferred actions above else so when he finds himself unable to tell you how sorry he is, he decides to show it to you.

“Miguel,” you brokenly moaned as the feeling of pleasure built up crumbled upon you, allowing you to reach your peak.

You shivered at the airy breath that hit the skin behind your ears, Miguel’ fingers trailing up your torso leaving a trail of your own doing behind as he littered kisses along the side of your neck.

Your eyes shot open as you felt his fingers trail down your body again, “Cariño,” he sweetly says into your ear, “Let me make it up to you.”

He presses his lips against yours when you try to tell him it’s ok; you forgive him; you don’t have to cum again, but all those thoughts go away when he tugs on your tongue and babbles out the word, “Please.”

Miguel leaves the memory before it becomes too much, the imagery of you in such a debauched manner being too much to handle in public. Luckily he was just a few more blocks before he’d arrive.

The first step is always the hardest, but the next step after the first always seemed a lot more difficult at a place like this.

The flowers by you looked well, of course they did— they were new. Miguel was just here two days ago. He placed the new bouquet of flowers in a vase he brought from your shared home, setting them on the opposite side of where the other bouquet was.

As he brought out a handkerchief from his left pocket he lowered himself down on his knees so he’d be fairly leveled with your gravestone. He looked up and down, left side, right side, behind and in front and dusted off any dust, dirt, and pollen he could find.

Not to his surprise, there was barely any on it—on you.

For a few moments the only thing that would be heard by a person walking by would be the breeze and the sound of tree leaves brushing along one another. It’s only when Miguel realizes something that he speaks.

“I know why all the visits usually reside in silence now, my vida.” He looks at the engraved letters in front of him forming your name, the concept of breathing suddenly feeling uncommon.

“Really? Why,” he could almost here in your voice.

“It’s because you always started the conversations.” He paused, as if waiting for a response— no he was hoping for one. Hoping that he’d suddenly hear your voice from behind him, but he knew it was an imbeciles dream.

That pause lasted for a minute, then five minutes, then forty minutes, then all of a sudden the sun was setting.

The first step is always the hardest, but to Miguel, these last steps of every visit put that very saying to shame.

He’d be back again in a week, and a month, and a year later, and will probably never stop coming back but the other universe he saw today— the one of you and his other self— he felt that he had to get it off his chest now.

“You know, in another universe you’re laughing and splashing me with water as I tickle you.”

He waits again, and only silence gives him a response.

Being associated with Spider-Man was a risk in of itself. Wherever Spider-Man went, death followed close by.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara atsv #miguel o’hara angst #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 x reader

977 notes · View notes

yeonzzzn · 7 months

Text

🌀dark waters: park jay

a vampires bleeding series: two / seven

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 6k

synopsis: after the events following jungwon and dorian, the seven boys fight to protect jungwon's mate and find dorian and stop his games. jay witnesses your near-death experience by the hands of dorian and having no choice but to pull you into protection.

genre: strangers to lovers, vampire!jay, doctor!jay, human!reader, some spice, angst

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, y/n almost drowning, some spice, cute but hella stubborn jay ♡

jay: got this weeks shipment. you? heeseung: ours just came as well. how much extra? jay: about two boxes worth. heeseung: we have one. has jungwon checked in yet? jay: no. fixing to give him a call. heeseung: 👍🏼

Jay scoffed, “I hate when he replies back in just emojis.”

Jay tossed his phone onto his desk, running a hand through his silver hair. The two boxes of blood bags sat at his feet.

He released a sign, hanging his head low.

Jay quickly picked up the boxes, and was out the window of his office and to his car, tossing the boxes in the back and was back in the office before a second even passed.

A nurse walked into the room right when Jay was closing the window.

“Doctor Park?” her soft voice spoke as she tapped her knuckle to the door.

“Yes?” Jay said, giving her a soft smile.

“Your next appointment is here, they are in room 1130.”

Jay nodded, “I will be right there, I have to call my brother for a second.”

The nurse smiled with a giggle, “Which one?”

“The one causing me the most problems right now.”

She giggles again, “That’s what happens when they start dating.”

Jay nodded in agreement, “You have no idea.”

Except it wasn’t even the fact Jungwon was dating. He found his mate. One that is human and is being targeted by another vampire. Which made Jay stress more than normal.

“I’ll be there in a second,” Jay confirmed again with the nurse before dialing Jungwon’s number.

But no answer.

Jay then calls Jungwon’s mate.

“Hello?” she answers right away.

“Where is your mate?” Jay softly snapped, trying to not drop his frustration on her.

“Geez, Wonnie! Jay is upset with you!”

Jungwon mumbled something in the background before coming onto the line, “Yes, Hyung?”

“What is the point of having a phone if you’re not going to answer it damnit!” Jay clenched his jaw, “If neither of you would have answered.”

“Hyung,” Jungwon breathed out, “We are fine. I am sorry I didn’t check in.”

Jay dropped his head into his hand, took a deep breath, and out, “How is everything going?”

“Niki just left, today has also been normal. Nothing out of the blue.”

“Okay, Heeseung and I will be there later to drop off bags.”

“Sounds good.”

“And Jungwon?”

Jungwon sat and waited for Jay.

“No funny business.”

“No promises.” and the line cut.

Jay smirked, standing up and grabbing his doctor's coat.

—

You dropped your head to the desk. This lecture was draining you. Class has also been in session for thirty minutes and you already wanted to throw yourself in front of a moving bus.

You tilted your head to look out the window. The sky was getting darker, was there a chance of rain today?

Your cell phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling it out you see you’ve received some texts from a guy you’ve been talking to through an app.

sharpdart32: when can I finally meet you? :(

sharpdart32: facetime calling you isn’t enough.

A smile formed on your face.

fate622: matt, I’m in class rn…how about afterwards?

sharpdart32: sounds perfect. there is an amazing place with a beautiful view of a lake. you’ll love it.

fate622: it looks like it’ll rain though.

sharpdart32: don’t worry! everything will be fine. trust me.

fate622: I trust you.

sharpdart32: :)

sharpdart32: see you soon.

You waited by the entrance to the park, double-checking the address Matt sent you, and sure enough, it’s the right place.

The sky was getting darker and the air smelt of rain. You wrap your jacket tighter around your body. Thankful to yourself for choosing your cargo pants to help keep your legs warm.

You checked the time, Matt was running late.

Thinking you got stood up, you decided it was time to leave. You walked back to your car, opening the door.

“I just got here, leaving already?”

The familiar voice sent happiness. You whipped around, seeing Matt’s beautiful smile.

“I thought you stood me up!” you laughed, closing your car door and making your way towards him.

He pulled you into a tight hug, “Gosh, it’s finally nice to see you in person.”

You smiled into his shoulder, “Yes it really is.”

Matt took a deep breath in, “You smell so…so good.”

Your face flushed, you spent so long in the college’s bathroom to make yourself presentable and it seemed to have paid off.

“Thank you, I'm glad I decided on this perfume.”

Matt pulled away, his hands resting on your shoulders, “Well it smells fantastic. Shall we?”

You nodded, taking his hand and following him into the park.

“Where is this view at, Matt?” you asked, excited to see how breathtaking this lake has to be.

“It’s not too far, you’ll see!”

As you both continue your hike through the park, Matt talks about his day and asks how school is going for you. It helped pass the time until the breeze from the lake caught your attention.

“Oh! Are we here?!”

Matt nodded, “Of course!”

You released his hand from yours, rushing over to see the lake, but quickly stopped when you noticed the cliff.

“You didn’t say anything about a cliff.”

“Scared of heights?” Matt teased.

You scrunch your nose at him, “Absolutely not! Just a detail I expected you to have told me is all.”

You carefully walk closer to the edge, looking at how far of a drop it is. Deciding to take a few steps back was best.

“You like the view, Y/N?” Matt whispered in your ear as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

You leaned into him, nodding, “I do, it really is beautiful like you said.”

Matt breathed you in again, “Y/N, you smell so good.”

“You told me that already,” you turned to look at him.

Your heart stopped at the change of his facial expression, the color of his eyes such a dark crimson.

“Matt…? Your eyes…”

He chuckled, “What's wrong with them? Hmm?” He smiled as he continued his chuckle, fangs now appearing.

You tried to run from him, but his grip was all too tight.

“What’s wrong Y/N? You were having so much fun just a second ago.”

You continued trying to escape, but he was way too strong.

“Stop fighting me, Y/N. I’m starving, and your blood is what I’m craving.”

Matt took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“What are you…” You whispered.

“You already know the answer, sweet thing. And you fell right into my trap.”

He was going to kill you. There was no denying it.

Matt tilted your head and dug his fangs into your skin.

You felt the blood leaving your body. Your skin is growing cold and pale.

Your eyelids become heavy as the dizziness sets in. Try to focus as much as you can to stay conscious.

The rain finally came down. Your feet losing their traction on the ground from the rain, Matt keeping his grip on you as you lost feeling in your legs.

He finally released his fangs, licking his lips. Whatever blood you had left in your body pooled out of your neck and down your clothes.

You barely were able to look at him and the shit-eating grin he had.

“It was fun, Y/N.”

“They’ll find you, my family. Friends. The police. They’ll find you.”

He threw his head back in laughter and took a deep breath, “No they won’t. And they won’t find you either.”

He dropped you over the edge, gravity taking you down until the cold water claimed you.

—

Heeseung and Jay one by one placed the blood bags into the fridge at the safe house.

“I think we have enough to last years.” Jake’s Australian accent chipped in, “Why are you two planting so much?”

Jay sighed, “Because we don’t know how long we have to hide the love birds here for.”

“It’s been two months,” Sunoo rolled his eyes, “We haven’t found any traces of Dorian or any hints that he’s formed a pack.”

“Yeah, but he also knows we are after him!” Sunghoon snapped, “He’s going to be on his toes.”

Heeseung hung his head down, “Can we not fight in front of __.”

Everyone glances over at Jungwon and his mate, and then quickly looks back at each other.

“They are too in Lalaland to even notice.” Niki jokes.

Jay looked back over at his younger brother, seeing the smile on his face as he pushed her hair behind her ears.

“We have to protect them.” Jay said, looking between the other five, “Jungwon might have his strength back, but if Dorian ever showed up for her, Jungwon would get desperate to protect her and he would need us.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Who is next on watch?” Heeseung asked, “Niki just finished, right?”

Niki nodded.

Jay raised his hand, “My duty turn, I’ll go now.”

Jay took one last look at Jungwon, the younger giving him a glance back, “Behave.”

Jungwon raised his eyebrow, “Okay, mom.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jay was out the door, running to the edge of the perimeter. A good couple hours worth of distance between himself and the safe house.

The end of the perimeter was on the edge of a cliff with a beautiful view of a lake.

Jay knelt down, taking in the fall lake breeze and the smell of the lake.

This used to be one of his favorite places anytime the seven of them would be at the safe house. It always helped calm his nerves.

Jay looked up at the dark sky, “It’s about to rain soon.”

And as if on command, rain fell down.

Jay clenched his jaw, “Fuck…should have brou-“

The smell of blood filled his nostrils, shooting Jay back up to his feet, looking in every direction the smell could be coming from.

His heart raced against his chest. Jay smells blood all the time at the clinic, but to smell it out here when it’s not an animal? Something was wrong.

Laughter echoed across the lake. Jay pinpointed where it was coming from, narrowing his vision to see a man and woman standing on the edge.

Blood flowed from her neck.

“Vampire..” Jay whispered, looking closer at the man, “Dorian!!”

Dorian took the girl and dropped her over the edge.

“Dorian!!!” Jay yelled louder.

Dorian’s eyes locked with Jay’s, a smile played wide on Dorian’s face, but faded and quickly ran.

Jay knew why too, the others sensed Jay’s distress, and Dorian felt it too.

Jay started to run after him but stopped as your body hit the water.

You were still alive, Jay could feel it. You tried with whatever strength you had to keep from sinking, but eventually, you gave out, the water filling your lungs.

Heeseung ran past Jay, “Come on! He’s getting away!”

Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Niki also ran past.

“Hyung?”

Jay whipped around, seeing Jungwon with __ standing behind him, pressed to his back.

“Damnit Jungwon get her out of here!” Jay snapped, pointing back towards the safe house.

Jungwon tightened his grip on __, looking down at the lake, “That woman is drowning!”

Jay groaned, “Won I know!” Jay took steps back, “Get her out of here! Now!” Jay then turned and ran off the cliff.

The cold water sent chills down him as he pushed himself through to get to you. Your faint heartbeat playing in his ears.

The cool air and rain hit your face as you came to.

“Hey!” a male voice said, “Hey, I need you to tell me how many fingers I am holding up?”

“…a peace sign?”

Jay rolled his eyes, “Close enough. Can you sit up?”

You nodded, slowly trying to move your body.

“Woah woah, easy.” Jay wrapped his arms around you, helping you sit up. Coughing up the remaining water in your lungs.

The rain finally came to a stop, but the pain in your body continued.

You groaned as you touched your hand to your neck.

“Hey, don’t touch that.” He said quickly, taking your hand away from your neck, “We need to get you to a hospital so it doesn’t get infected.”

You recognized the warmth of his skin. It felt the exact same as Matt’s.

You pushed the man away from you, scooting back away from him.

“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you, I saved you from drowning.”

You studied him as his chocolate eyes studied you. His silver hair was slicked back and his clothes tightly fit him from the rain. You could lie, it had your heart racing. This man was beautiful.

“The last vampire that told me that ended up draining me of my blood and pushing me off the fucking cliff! You snapped.

Jay’s hard eyes soften, “You know, you’re the first person to recognize the monster that I am so quickly.” He glances away from you.

Your heartbeat slowed, the way he said those words…They were filled with hurt.

“Anyways,” He said looking back at you, “This is the thanks I get for saving your life? It took almost ten minutes of CPR to save you.”

Your fingers went to your lips, face flushing, “What if I had a DNR!!” you snapped, giving him the same attitude back.

He rolled his eyes, “You don’t have a DNR. I’m not stupid. Plus I am a doctor, I know what I’m doing.”

You raised an eyebrow, “A vampire…doctor?”

He nodded, “Well yeah, we have to make money too.”

Your body relaxed, “You said I needed to go to a hospital?”

He nodded again.

You agreed to go, “I swear if I put my trust in one more vampire and you break it…”

He chuckled, “I’m not like the one that hurt you.”

The drive to the hospital was long and awkward but finally arrived.

You followed him around the building, “This is a clinic?”

He nodded, “Of course.”

“No hospital?”

You followed him to a window and watched as he opened it.

“We are breaking into a clinic?!”

He stared back at you, “Not breaking in.” He fully climbed through the window, helping you inside after.

“Sit on the bed, I have to grab some supplies.”

You nodded, doing as you were told.

You looked around the room. It was pretty bland. Had a small tv in the corner of the wall with a table underneath and some flowers with a tag that read, “To: Doctor Park, thank you for everything you do! -♡ Nurse Kay.”

You giggled at the note, someone had a small crush on the vampire doctor.

You continued looking around the room, setting your eyes on the desk.

Pictures of him with six other boys filled with frames around the desk, along with a photo of himself and what looks like his parents. The photo was very old and looks like it has been reprinted multiple times.

Your heart sank, just how long has he been alive?

Jay came back into the room, with bandages, medicine, ointments, a blood bag, and an IV pole.

“You don’t know what blood time I am?” you said.

“I know your blood type based on its smell.” He said, setting everyone down on the bed beside you.

That made sense, he is a vampire after all.

“I am going to do a blood transfusion,” he set the blood bag onto the rack, hooking up the tubes to it, “Your body is still trying to recover from the blood loss, so we are just going to go ahead and do the transfusion.”

He took your arm and turned it over, wiping the alcohol pad over your skin, “Are you ready for the needle?”

You looked away and nodded.

You felt the prick of the needle and bandages being wrapped around your arm, your body taking in the blood back into your body.

“Now time for the ointment.” he knelt down in front of you, dabbing a small amount of the cream to his finger and applying it to your neck wounds.

“Dorian really dug his fangs deep.”

“Dorian? His name is Matt?”

Jay shook his head, “He is smart, that’s for sure. Known the man for so long, it doesn't surprise me that he did a name change.”

“You know him?” panic started to set in.

“Well, used to. It’s a long story. Don’t associate with him anymore.”

You could tell he didn’t want to talk about Dorian anymore. Glancing back at the flowers, you had another idea.

“Nurse Kay seems to have a crush on you, Doctor Park.”

He softly smiled, “She’s been trying to jump my bones since I’ve been here, and please just call me Jay.”

Jay grabbed the bandage and slowly wrapped it around your neck, “I’m Y/N. And thank you, Jay.”

Jay’s eyes meet yours. The thread tangled into a knot, tying together perfectly just from one look.

You felt it too, this pull to him. Something clicking together. Your heart raced being inches away from him.

Jay looked away from you, “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

He stood up, gathering the leftover items and setting them into a cabinet.

Jay’s softness went back into his tough core. You wondered what made him so tough?

Jay sat down at his desk, letting out a deep sigh.

“Once your bag is finished I’ll take you ho-“

Before Jay could finish, the door opened, and five men followed all of them talking at once.

“Hey hey! Quiet!” Jay snapped, “This is a clinic for fucksakes.” He covered his face with his hands.

“I told them that, but…” Heeseung mumbled.

Jay stood up, facing the four of them.

“Jungwon?”

“Back at the safe house,” Heeseung said.

“Good, but we need to get them out of there.” Jay sighed.

Niki nodded, “After noticing you, Hyung, he has an idea where the house is. He’ll be coming for __.”

Jake agreed, “We need another safe place.”

Sunghoon gave suggestions and the others agreed or disagreed.

Jay glances over at you, giving you an “Are you okay?” look.

You nodded back at him.

Heeseung glanced between Jay and you, “Whose this?”

“This is Y/N,” Jay scratched the back of his head, “Y/N, this is Heeseung, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Niki.”

You slowly waved a hand at them. These were the boys from the pictures, only one is missing and you assumed it was Jungwon, the one they all mentioned earlier.

“Why is she here?” Sunoo asked.

“I didn’t realize someone else was in here either…” Sunghoon admitted.

“She was Dorian’s meal.” Jay shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, “You don’t have to put it like that you jerk.”

Jay rolled his eyes back, “Could have left you to die.”

“Might as well have, asshole.”

Jay hung his head low and softly groaned.

Heeseung smiled between the two of you, but the smile faded just as fast, “Does Dorian know she’s alive?”

“I don’t know.” Jay sighed, sitting back in his chair, “I jumped in to save her after he took off.”

“Well,” Jake started, “He left town, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have eyes and ears around. He has Y/N’s scent, he’ll know she’s alive the minute he goes back to the area.”

“Jay,” Heeseung called for him. Jay looks up at his only hyung, “We have to protect her too now.”

Jay looks at you and nods, “Yes we do.”

You look at the two of them confused, “Is there another person you’re protecting from Dorian?”

They all nodded, “Jungwon’s mate.” Niki sang.

“Mate?” You’re even more confused.

Heeseung continues staring between Jay and yourself, “You felt it, didn’t you?”

Jay immediately shakes his head, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Jongseong…” Heeseung said using Jay’s real name.

“No! Drop it.” Jay snapped, “We need to get Jungwon and __ to a new safe place and Y/N somewhere too.”

“I want to be wherever Jay goes.” You spoke up, causing all six of them to look at you.

Heeseung smirked at Jay, causing Jay to shove his older.

“I have an idea where to take Jungwon and __,” Jake said, “But I’ll need help to lose our scents at the safe house and to transport the bags.”

The boys cooked up a plan and were all in agreement.

“What about me?” You asked.

“You’ll stay with me…”Jay mumbled, “At my apartment.”

“Will it be safe?”

“Trust me,” Sunoo sassed, “Out of all of us, he has the most security at his apartment.”

You giggled at the embarrassment on Jay’s face. You could tell he was having a hard time holding onto his tough shell.

A knock sounded on the door, and a female walked in, “Oh hello boys! Long time no see! And hello Doctor Lee, nice to see you again.”

You immediately knew it was Nurse Kay by how she glanced over at Jay, and then at you.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a patient…”

Jay shook his head, “It was last minute.”

She nodded, giving you one final glance, “I don’t think your brothers should be in this room with a patient.”

You rolled your eyes, could her jealousy be any more obvious?

“We were just finishing up,” Jay said, walking to you. Releasing IV from your arm. “Thank you, Nurse.”

She closed the door, leaving the room silent.

After one more decision, you all left the clinic. Jay at your side and the other five surrounding the both of you.

“This is embarrassing.” Jay scoffed.

You smiled, “I have my own personal bodyguards, this is fun!”

Jay couldn’t help but smile after you looked away. His heart pulling to you, and him trying to shove it down. Trying to cut the knot.

The drive to Jay’s apartment was short. You also expected a vampire who is god knows how old with however much money, he would be living in a bigger apartment space.

You stood in the doorway, looking into the studio apartment.

“What’s wrong? Go inside!” Jay gently pushed you forward.

“Just expected like a massive luxurious apartment.”

Jay raised a brow, “I don’t have that kind of money.”

You glared at him, “There’s no way you don’t.”

Jay rolled his eyes, “I like this small space.”

You looked around as you walked in, seeing his bed in the corner, a couch and TV in the other. A small dining table with the kitchen on the other side and a hole in the wall for the bathroom.

Jay handed you a pair of his clothes, “I’ll wash the ones you’re wearing now, the shower is ready, please freshen up.”

You take the clothes, “What about you?”

“I’ll shower after you.”

You took your time in the shower, trying to process everything that happened today and what it means going forward.

Will you have to run for the rest of your life? Always hiding? Will Jay be by your side?

So many more questions filtered through your brain. It hurt trying to wrap everything around it.

Once out of the shower, you pulled on the basketball shorts and shirt he gave you to wear. They were both oversized, but comfortable. They even smelled like him.

You stood in the mirror and ran your fingers through your hair, only to stop and notice the puncture holes in your neck. You leaned forward to get a better look, noticing how bruised your skin was around the scabs.

Tears slowly fell down your face. You survived an attack. These wounds will turn into scars and show proof of how you survived. But they will also hold all the trauma.

You decided to wrap more bandages around wounds, hiding it was what you wanted for the moment.

You walked out of the bathroom, seeing Jay fast asleep on the couch, his bed unmade for you.

The sun shining through the window was enough to wake you up.

The smell of pancakes and bacon filled the small studio apartment.

You crawled out of bed, only to see you were alone.

Your bare feet hit the floor as you walked over to the kitchen, a plate of food and a note waiting for you.

Y/N, I got called into the clinic. There was an emergency surgery that needed my attention. I made this breakfast for you, so please eat it. Niki and Sunoo will be taking turns checking in on you while I am gone. So if you try to leave, they will stop you. There’s a number on the fridge for a pizza place down the street you can use for lunch. I should be home by dinner. Make yourself at home. Oh, there is also a fresh toothbrush and other toiletries in the bathroom for you as well. Remember do NOT leave…I mean it. -Jay

You rolled your eyes at the last part and dug into the food.

After your meal, you freshen up in the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth.

Since you’d be stuck here all day, you explored more of the apartment. Looking at what other food he could possibly have and then remembering he was a vampire when you opened the fridge to only find blood bags.

You watched some TV, only to fall asleep an hour later. A knock on the door waking you from your nap.

You looked through the peephole to see Sunoo standing outside.

You opened the door and confirmed you were okay. Sunoo patted your head and went on his way.

You finally decided to order pizza, and to your surprise, it was free all because the owner personally knows Jay. Which hey, free pizza is always a win.

A couple of hours later Niki stopped by, confirming you were still in fact okay, stole one of Jay’s blood bags, talked to you about the one time Jay was scared of a “ghost” and forced Niki to shower with him, and then went on his own way.

For the rest of the time you flipped through TV channels or read one of the many anatomy books Jay had.

You found yourself back in the bathroom staring at the two small holes on your neck, a massive sigh leaving your mouth.

The front door opens followed by, “I’m back.”

You walked from the bathroom, “It’s almost 11 p.m., that’s so way past dinner time.”

Jay glared at you as he took off his coat, “Don’t start with me.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “I am assuming the surgery took longer than expected?”

Jay nodded, “It was a lot worse than we thought it was.”

Jay dropped his coat on the kitchen table and kicked off his shoes.

You could see how tired he was. How stressed he must be trying to deal with a normal human life on top of hiding who he really is and also trying to keep you safe.

Your face softened, the knot pulling you to him. You stood beside him, taking his hand into yours, “I am sorry it was a rough day.”

Jay tried to calm his heart rate, not wanting to show the effect you had on him. Shoving away the knot that was pulling him to you.

“Yeah, it’s been a long day,” he pulled you closer to him, wrapping you in a hug, “I’m going to shower, don’t stay awake for me.”

Before you could protest, Jay gently kissed the top of your head, and then walked away, closing the bathroom room behind him.

Jay gripped the sink, face flushed, “What did I just do???” he whispered.

The knot is just growing tighter.

After his shower, Jay threw on his favorite black t-shirt and shorts, finally happy to rest.

Only to see you still awake, sitting on the couch.

“I told you to not wait up for me!” Jay snapped, “It’s 12 a.m.!”

You rolled your eyes, “Just sit down grumpy ass.”

Jay threw himself onto the couch, resting his legs at your side.

“You want to share the couch?” You sassed.

Jay scoffed, “My couch, I bought it. Stop being sassy.”

You sighed, knowing you weren’t getting anywhere with it.

“Tell me more about Dorian, and how he’s related to Jungwon and his…girlfriend?”

Jay took a deep breath in, “Dorian himself is a longer story,” he started, “And his girlfriend is actually his mate.”

You turned to face him, “That’s the second time I have heard her being called mate.”

Jay continued and ignored your comment, “Jungwon and his mate ran into Dorian. Dorian is a solo hunter, versus us who are in a pack. Dorian hunts not to just feed but to kill. He could smell __ blood from miles away and he wanted her. Jungwon fought to keep Dorian away, but the problem was Jungwon tested his limits and didn’t drink any blood for months, he was weaker than normal.”

You nodded, taking in the information.

Jay continued, “When you’re in a pack, you feel everything the others feel,” Jay placed his hand over his heart, “Their happiness, sadness and when they are hurt. It’s the knot of fate that ties us all together. So when we sensed Jungwon was in danger, we rushed to him. Dorian ran off knowing he couldn’t take all seven of us. He made it clear he was coming for Jungwon’s mate. And Dorian won’t stop until he has her.”

“And since she is Jungwon’s mate, she is now a part of the pack?”

Jay nodded, “Vampires mate for life. Once one finds their mate, they get tied into the same fate knot. Jungwon and her knot are obviously different from the one the pack shares as a whole, but it’s still there.”

“How do you guys find your mates? Is Jungwon the only one?”

Jay nodded, “The rest of us don’t have one. And finding mates isn't that easy. It’s a feeling both yourself and your mate will feel. That knot tangled together, making everything clear. In that moment you see only them, and that maybe this monstrous life is actually worth living.”

You tilted your head, pulling your knees to your chest, “That is the second time you’ve called yourself a monster.”

Jay looked into your eyes, “What else am I? There’s a reason I followed in Heeseung’s footsteps and became a doctor. To put some good back into the world at all the bad I have done.”

“Jay…”

“We’ve done some terrible things, Y/N. There’s a reason we took to drinking blood bags and not directly from humans.”

You placed your hand on his knee, waiting for him to continue.

“We weren’t born vampires, but the ones who turned us were very terrible people. We did terrible things to others in our first hundred years, but we hated it. Every moment of it. Life got better once we made the change. Once we each found other passions and drank from blood bags, life did get better. Everyone else has forgiven themselves for the past but…”

“But you never did?”

Jay nodded.

“Jay, look at me.”

And he did. He stared deeply back into your doe eyes. His heart strings aching for you, the knot pulling tighter and him shoving it down.

You crawled over to him, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. To show him how worthy he is. How he deserves so much more than what he gives himself. The knot you felt, praying he feels it too.

Jay places his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from moving closer.

“Y/N, please don’t, I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve you. I’m trying so hard to cut this knot from you.”

Tears fill your eyes, your soulmate is sitting in front of you as he tries to push you away. You could feel his hurt. Feel the pain he’s feeling as he tries to cut the knot that’s already been tied. You’re his mate, and he’s doing everything to stop it.

But you’ve had enough, “Stop denying yourself the possibility of love just because you see yourself as a monster!” Jay’s grip on your shoulders loosened, narrowing his eyes at you, “I don’t see you as a monster, Jongseong! From the moment we met I never once saw you as a monster. I was scared, yes, but never have I ever felt so safe being by your side.”

Jay took a deep breath in, studying your face.

“I don’t know much about how mates work for vampires, but I felt that knot you talked about. The moment we looked into each other's eyes at the clinic, I felt that knot. My whole life became yours.”

Jay folded at your words, releasing his hands from your shoulders, one reaching for your neck, and the other on your hip.

Jay accepted his fate, accepted the knot, and accepted you.

His lips connected to yours, breathing you in as if he was running out of oxygen.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you closer to him.

Jay pulled himself up on the couch, pulling you into his lap, deepening the kiss more.

You ran your hands in his dyed hair, causing Jay to send soft moans against your lips. His shorts hardening underneath you.

Jay rests his hands on your lower back, slowly pushing you down onto him with every moment you make.

The sensation you felt being completely connected to him sent butterflies to your stomach.

Every inch of pleasure Jay was feeling was amplified because of your bond. Every movement Jay made that turned you on, turned him on more.

It made you dizzy at his very touch. If making out with him felt like this, you could only imagine how sex would feel with him.

Jay released his lips from yours, resting his forehead against yours.

You both took deep breaths in, smiling and laughing.

“There’s that smile I love,” You whispered, “Smiling looks better on you than being Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

Jay chuckled, “You really irritate the fuck out of me.”

“And you’re stuck with me for life, right? Mates?”

Jay pulled your hair behind your ears, finally truly feeling every ounce of love Jungwon felt for his mate, towards you.

“Yes, beautiful,�� Jay said, taking your face between his hands, “You're stuck with me just as much as I am stuck with you.”

He planted one last kiss on your lips, before tossing you off him.

“You really are an asshole.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

Jay rolled his eyes, “Go to bed, we have a big day tomor-“

You sat up on the couch, feeling the worry that he was feeling.

“Jay? Jongseong? What’s wrong?”

He pulls you towards him and behind him, away from the window.

The glass shatters, and a woman with dark red hair, steps through.

“Oh isn’t this a sight to see, Dorian will be excited to know his lovely friends rescued his lunch.”

You rolled your eyes, “I am so sick of hearing that.”

Jay clenched his jaw, his grip on you becoming even tighter.

“Didn’t think you were much for being in a pack, Lilly.” Jay hissed.

“Oh, we aren’t in a pack. Let's just say we are in an agreement.”

“He still wants __ doesn’t he?” Jay asked, already knowing the answer.

“He doesn’t just want Jungwon’s mate,” she sang, looking around Jay and directly at you, “He wants your mate as well.”

Your heart sank, the man responsible for almost killing you knows you’re still alive. You gripped onto the back of Jay’s shirt, pulling yourself closer.

“Why does he want Y/N and __?! There’s plenty of other people out there!”

“Now now, Jongseong, that’s not something a doctor should say.”

Lilly walked closer, studying the two of you.

“I’m not here to hurt you or take your mate from you, I just had to come to confirm Dorian’s suspensions.”

“What is he planning?”

Lilly laughed, “I don’t have the time nor patience to tell you, plus your pack just arrived, don’t want to be torn to pieces.”

With a wave, Lilly jumped out the window.

Jay pulled you to his chest, wrapping his arms tighter around you. Your whole body shakes with fear.

“Don’t be scared baby, I have you.” Jay ran his hand through your long hair, “And I won’t let them touch you.”

#jay bae #park jay #jay #jay x reader #reader x jay #park jongseong #jongseong x reader #reader x jongseong #reader x enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #strangers to lovers #vampiresbleeding #yeonzzzn writing

410 notes · View notes

toomanyideasandfandoms · 1 month

Note

Death seeking creator but with Furina? Imagine the sort of things she would feel when she first heard of an "impostor", and her being the only one who kills them once and never after because of like her looking at the body in 'pity' since they would be like her (pretending to be a good they are not)

Then she realizes she killed the actual creator and then they don't appear in Fontaine for a while and the guilt is eating away at her until she finds them again and after that she tries to accommodate for them and actually try and help!

Maybe she succeeds, maybe she doesn't, it's up to you :3

YOU ARE SO RIGHT ANON. This kind of thing would REALLY mess with Furina's head honestly. Like the pure pain she already feels from her own situation, I can see her have a slightly higher opinion of "imposters" solely because she can relate not having the choice of their fate. She never expresses this to anyone though, not even Neuvillette for her thinking he would be as strict about such topics as the other archons are.

Also yes she would only try to kill then once. But! Her method would be from a public execution, since Fontaine is about fair trials. As much as she would use her authority to speed the process, her biggest obstacle is actually Neuvillette!

This is because Neuvillette would already be aware about the truth because of his closeness with the elements of Teyvat. After all if the Sovereigns came before the Primordial One, then who came before them and created them? That's right, the Primordial Mother! Or the Sovereign Mother as they once called their creator, but it was changed over the centuries. Though I'll get into that another time.

Either way Neuvillette would do his absolute power to protect them. But it would be all for naught unfortunately as someone would sneak into the confinement area the creator was put in and killed them overnight.

That event would devastate Neuvillette, most likely causing him to quickly explain things to Furina. Though that could go in different ways if she listens to him or not, most likely yes because of her own situation.

Actually if I can ramble real quick, Fontaine is actually the nation that would have the least amount of deaths rate for our creator. And that's solely because of the long waiting periods Neuvillette and Furina set in place to keep anymore deaths within their nation. Though this does poorly due to those who kill from the shadows, or because of our broken creator themselves.

Honestly I know for a fact that Fontaine would have the most likelihood of a breakthrough for healing our creator's mental state. Especially since Neuvillette and Furina would be able to explain that them dying in custody was never the plan and they never had planned on letting them die in the first place (more so Neuvillette saying this, though he would vouch for Furina because most of Teyvat was ignorant).

But this wouldn't stop the angst at all during the healing process. Rain would be falling down constantly for practically years!

Though once the healing has been done I can guaranteed you have the entire nation of hydro being overprotective of the creator. They won't ever trust another nation and practically even forbid any non native Fontaine citizens near them.

They refuse to let any chance of events repeating once more. They've already gone against the Heavily Principles once, they're willing to go to war once again.

#sagau #genshin sagau #death seeking creator #so sorry i didnt talk about Furina specifically enough #but in my head Neuvillette is very important when it comes to the events within fontaine #this is especially true if this happens after the archon quests

177 notes · View notes

totheblood · 9 months

Text

begging for rain. (two)

󠁐# TWO; the more you break

PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader

SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

A/N :new chapter yay!! okay so like i'm setting a lot of stuff up and i know that so annoying and frustrating but i really need to paint a picture of dynamics so i hope u enjoy. AI AUDIOS AT THE END ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!

READ CHAPTER ONE HERE!!

TWO YEARS AGO

The first day of school went okay.

Inside the hallways, students pushed past each other, sweaty bodies mixing and mingling into a tangled mess. Blue lockers were lined up against the walls, many of them open as students shoved heavy textbooks inside them from their backpacks.

Ellie pushed past them like she was used to it, a ratty leather backpack hanging off her shoulder. Occasionally, she would look behind her to see if you were still following her. You always were.

You didn’t quite know where you were going. You knew your locker number was tucked deep inside your bag and whenever Ellie stopped at her locker was when you were going to pull it out and ask her to show you where it is. However, you were now feeling like you were slightly stalking Ellie and there was some truth to her words. When Ellie stopped at her locker, Locker 2094, she looked at you for only a moment before she was undoing the built-in lock.

“You know you can’t follow me all day,” she said dryly, lock clicking open and her locker door almost hitting you in the face. You decided it was time for you to get your locker number, pulling your bag to the front and unzipping the front pocket where your locker number and lock combination was written on a crumpled-up pink post-it note.

“I’m not following you, Ellie,” You rolled your eyes, unraveling the post-it note, “I was just waiting for a good time to find this.”

“And what is that?” She gave you a weird look and shoved a textbook in her locker, then another.

“My locker number,” You said simply, looking at the number and chuckling to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” She wasn’t looking at you anymore, just fishing around in her bag for anything she may have had to put in her locker.

“This is my locker,” You patted the one right next to Ellie’s, right where you were standing to the left of her, “Locker 2093.”

Ellie chuckled dryly again, closing her locker and leaning up against it as she watched you struggle to put your lock combination in, “You’ve taken this stalker thing too far.”

With a click, it popped open, empty and barren. You opened your bag and shoved the one textbook you had inside your locker, a smile planted on your face, “Yes, I’ve just been so obsessed with you since I saw you for the first time yesterday that I called the school district and got my locker to be next to yours.”

“Aha! So you admit it!” Ellie laughed, picking at her fingernails as she looked around the hallways, looking for familiar faces. A group of them walked up, all laughing and talking with each other as they circled Ellie around your locker.

“Hey, El,” a girl said, causing you to look up at her. She was pretty, too pretty. She had her black hair tied up in a ponytail, her skin was olive and slightly tanned, and she had some sun spots scattered across her face, pooling in a center near her nose. Next to her was a slightly taller and much paler girl with black hair cut right above her shoulder, the jagged and uneven edges indicating she cut it herself. Behind them, a much taller guy, with longer black hair and a kind face stood. He smiled at you, and you offered him a kind smile back. Be nice, you cursed, you’re here to make friends, you reminded yourself.

“Hey Dina,” Ellie smirked, leaning back against her locker and looking at the group, “I see your hair is already growing back, Cat,” Ellie reached forward to play with the edges of Cat’s hair before she swatted Ellie’s hands away from her and scoffed.

“You fucked up my hair and you know that,” Her tone of voice was playful at most, evidenced by the wide grin on her face. She was insanely pretty even with her hair all fucked up. You didn’t know why but it made your stomach churn. “Are you going to introduce us to your new friend, Ellie?”

Your eyes widened and darted to Ellie and then to the group, hoping embarrassment wasn’t written all over your face.

“This is Y/n,” Ellie smiled at you, jumping slightly when you slammed your locker shut, “She’s my new neighbor and stalker.”

“Hey!” You rolled your eyes, a smile still on your face, “I am her neighbor, but I’m not a stalker.”

“Ellie’s just too full of herself. Ignore her,” The girl in the ponytail stepped a little closer and extended a hand, “I’m Dina.”

You shook her hand, mumbling a ‘nice to meet you’ before shifting awkwardly and retracting your hand. The guy in the back raised his hand slightly and smiled at you, “I’m Jesse.”

“Nice to meet you, Jesse,” you then looked at the last girl waiting for her to introduce herself. When she didn’t speak, you took it upon yourself to ask, “And sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Cat,” she responded flatly. Her tone was a little icy, but you weren’t sure if you were just feeling insecure or she was actually trying to snub you.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” a nervous breathy laugh fell from your lips and you tightened your grip on your backpack strings, “It sucks moving senior year so I’m glad to make some new friends.”

“Why did you move senior year?” Cat spoke up finally, “You’re not like a psycho bitch that got kicked out of her last school?”

“Cat!”

“C’mon, Cat!” Dina and Ellie chimed in at the same time in your defense. You were admittedly thrown off by the comment but, yet again, you made an excuse for her. Maybe she was just curious. Or maybe she wanted to protect herself and her friends.

“What? I want to know,” she defended herself.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you laughed, giving her a smile. Be nice, your head rang once again. “It’s a valid question. But, no, uh, my dad died and we couldn’t afford to live where we were living anymore.”

Her smug smile fell, and instead, it was laced with empathy or more importantly pity. You hated it. Your newfound ability to ruin the moment. A moment that was supposed to be sweet. A fresh start. Already, you had clouded the new with your past.

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to force you to say that or anything,” Cat apologized and it sounded genuine. It felt genuine.

“It’s totally okay. I’m fine, I’m mostly over it anyways,” That was a bold lie. You were nowhere close to over it but you couldn’t help but want them to like you. To think you were totally normal and carrying no baggage.

“No, it’s not okay,” Ellie spoke up again, shooting a glance to Cat, that made her scoff and roll her eyes.

“I said I was sorry,” Cat shrugged, “What more do you want from me?”

“Maybe don’t call people ‘psycho bitches’ when you first meet them,” Ellie stood up straighter, crossing her arms over her chest and Cat glanced at you again, colder this time.

“You’re unbelievable, Ellie,” She was looking at Ellie again, shooting daggers at her. You were unsure what was going on so you glanced at Dina and Jesse for help. All Dina did was slightly shake her head, a subtle way of telling you to not get involved.

“I’m unbelievable?”

“Yes! You’re unbelievable! Scolding me in front of people like I’m your fucking child or something,” Cat was getting irritated and it showed itself in her face. She had one of those faces that couldn’t hide what she was feeling.

“Then don’t act like a child,” Ellie said simply, causing Cat to let out a huff and turn around, push past Jesse, and leave the group. Ellie closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the locker, letting out a heavy sigh, “I should go after her. Can you guys help her to her first class?”

Dina nodded quickly before shooing Ellie off with her hand, “Go, go! It’s fine.” Ellie took one look at you and offered a smile that said ‘I’m sorry’. What she actually said was: “Meet me by my car at the end of the day. I’ll take you home.”

With that Ellie disappeared into the sea of people until she was no longer in sight.

“What was that?” you asked Dina and Jesse.

“Trust me,” Dina looked at you, “You don’t want to know.”

Your first class was English with Mrs. Porter. She made you stand at the front of the classroom and introduce yourself. Jesse was in this class with you and when you were done giving a brief introduction to yourself he loudly clapped and cheered. The gesture made you smile and eased some of the tension you were feeling.

A few people followed him, by cheering and offering you a high five as you moved back to your seat. Everyone seemed to be enamored by him. During class, people would send him notes on little Post-it notes, he would open them, laughing as he read them and wrote some messages back to them. It was subtle, but you could tell he opened up a room.

At lunch you walked into the large cafeteria, looking around for a place to sit. You were sure you looked like a lost dog as you wandered around because a girl with long brunette hair walked up to you with a smile on her face. She was pretty and dressed in a button-up and plaid skirt. It felt too formal for school.

“Hey, you’re new, right?” She asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m Ingrid,” She looked you up and down, “do you need a place to sit?”

“Y/n!” your name was being called from a familiar voice, causing you to snap your head in that direction to see Ellie standing up and waving her hand in the air, “Come sit with us!”

“Oh, I’m just going to sit with,” You pointed to the table where Ellie was still standing and staring intently at you, “my friends.”

Ingrid’s smile fell as she shot a glance toward the table. You were obviously missing something. You turned to move towards the table before the girl gripped your arm firmly.

“Wait, I didn’t catch your name,” That smile was back.

“Y/n,” you told her.

“Y/n,” she repeated, “Pretty name.”

“Thanks,” you scratched the back of your neck, “Well, I’ll see you around.” You quickly rushed to the table, confused about the interaction once again. This place was fucking weird.

You sat down next to Ellie who was laughing at something Cat said. Cat’s eyes sparkled when she looked at Ellie. Brown and glossy as she laughed with Ellie, shaking her head. Her cheeks were slightly pink and she reached over to grab an apple slice out of Ellie’s lunchbox. When Ellie looked back at Cat her eyes didn’t sparkle in the same way that Cat’s did. They were verging on dull, but the corner of Ellie’s eyes still had wrinkles as she smiled.

“Hey!” She grabbed the apple from Cat’s hand, “Get your own apples.”

“Yours just taste better,” she giggled, smiling at you as you sat down, “Hey, how was your first day?”

She was being much nicer and her energy was much calmer. It was obvious she and Ellie had made up in the time from this morning to now, but you also had to wonder if Ellie told her to be nicer to you.

“It’s going well,” You shrugged, pulling out the brown bag your mom had packed for you, “I’m still getting used to everything.”

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Ellie commented, taking another bite of her apple, “Hey, what did Ingrid want?”

“Oh,” You looked over to Ingrid’s table where she was chatting and eating with a group of people, “She just asked me if I wanted to sit with her.”

Dina, who was sitting across from you, practically choked on her food as she laughed. Cat was also laughing to herself as she raised her eyebrows, and looked down at her food. Jesse had a small smile on his face as he took another chip from his bag and took a loud bite. The only person who wasn’t laughing was Ellie, who gave a brief glance at Ingrid’s table before looking back at you.

“Am I missing something?”

“No, it’s just,” Ellie started, taking a deep breath and wondering how much she wanted to explain, “be careful with her. She’s…”

“Friendly,” Dina finished Ellie’s sentence, a smirk on her face. Obviously, friendly didn’t mean friendly but you didn’t know what that meant.

“Do you like girls?” Cat asked bluntly.

“Cat,” Ellie warned again, making Cat drop what she was eating and roll her eyes.

“We need to know if we want to warn her,” She stated simply.

“Like romantically?” You asked, making everyone giggle again. You felt like you were missing a joke.

“Yeah, romantically,” Cat answered.

“Oh, yeah,” You looked around to see everyone’s reactions. You ignored the way Ellie’s cheeks tinged pink, “is that a… problem?”

“No,” Cat said flatly, her tone was cold again, “we all like girls.”

“Oh,” you said, taking out your sandwich from the ziplock bag and taking a bite.

“Let’s just say that Ingrid has been friendly with all of us,” Dina said, throwing a piece of popcorn at Jesse, “including Jesse.”

“At this point, initiation into this group should require hooking up with Ingrid,” Cat laughed.

“No,” Ellie said almost too fast, causing Cat to give her a confused look, “I can’t deal with another person getting convinced that Ingrid wants to be in a relationship with them. Plus, I can see into her room from mine. What if I look over and see Ingrid’s tits.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” Cat said bitterly. There was that tension again.

“Well, I don’t really think I want to be involved with anyone anyways,” you mentioned, taking another bite.

“Why not?” Ellie questioned, eyes boring a hole into the side of your face.

“It’s just too complicated,” You shrugged, taking a sip of your water, “I’m new and it’s hard enough making friends, I don’t need anything messing that up.”

Ellie swallowed hard, and took another bite of her apple, just nodding at what you said like she understood.

“Well, now you have friends,” Dina spoke up, dissipating some of the tension. You took another bite, smiling with the food tucked into your cheeks.

As the day ended you went back to your locker to collect your stuff, expecting Ellie to be at hers, but she wasn’t there. You paid no mind to it as you opened your locker. However, inside sat a note, a yellow Post-It note that looked like it had been crumpled up a few times. On it, it read: “Couldn’t stop looking at you all day. Hope this isn’t weird, you’re just so beautiful. I hope I can get the courage to say it to your face. - your secret admirer”

Normally, this would have made you feel good about yourself. A random stranger thinks you are beautiful? Yea, that would boost anyone’s ego. Except this stranger knew your locker number and had admitted to watching you all day. A weird pit formed in the bottom of your stomach as you stuffed the note in your bag, knowing you would ruminate on it sometime later. Quickly, you packed up your stuff and made your way to the parking lot.

There, Ellie was leaning against her car, phone in hand. She was so focused on what she was typing that she didn’t even notice you walking up to her.

“Hey, ready to go?” You spoke, causing her to look up and smile at you.

“Yeah,” She shrugged, before pausing a moment, green eyes scanning your face, “what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You let out a nervous laugh as you shook your head.

“What? I’m fine.”

“You look weird.”

“Thank you?”

“Not like that,” she stopped you, putting her hands up, ”You just look upset but I don’t know you that well so I could be wrong.”

“You are wrong,” you grumbled, heading to the passenger side and hopping in the car. Ellie just scoffed, rolled her eyes, and got in the driver's seat.

“Well fuck me for caring then,” she mumbled to herself, starting the engine.

“It’s not-” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath, “It’s just been a long day, I’m sorry if I was rude. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

She paused for a moment as if you had said something wrong, then she looked at you, green eyes scanning your face once more. She looked shocked, surprised almost. It was all so confusing.

“It’s fine, I’m just being an asshole,” She laughed, turning back to the road and putting the car in reverse, “My day was long too.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“It’s,” She turned down the music so she could speak, “Cat.”

“Are you guys a thing?” You crossed your hands in your lap and absentmindedly played with your fingers.

“It’s complicated,” she sighed, heading out onto the open road, “Kind of, but it’s not really official.”

“Why?”

“I can’t commit.”

“Oh,” you looked over at her and watched her nose scrunch slightly like she was uncomfortable with the conversation, “I could sense the tension today.”

“She’s just…” Ellie made a weird movement with her head, “like that.”

“Why can’t you commit?”

“We’ve had our issues in the past,” Ellie shrugged, “at the end of the day I just can’t trust her and I can’t date someone I don’t trust.”

“You guys just seem so close,” you mentioned eyes drifting to the road again, the trees, and all the storefronts you had yet to explore.

“We are, and she’s a good friend,” Ellie coughed, “a little protective, but good. But romantically, I don’t really trust her. She swears she only wants me but I don’t know if I believe that.”

“Damn,” You laughed. Ellie looked over at you and laughed too. The air in the car was much lighter now.

“Yeah, I just don’t know how much of it I can do this year,” Ellie’s smile fell, as she approached her house, “but you didn’t ask all of that. I’m sorry I overshared.”

“Shut up, you didn’t overshare,” you laughed, unbuckling as Ellie pulled into her driveway, “and I did ask.”

“Well, thanks for listening, anyways,” Ellie smiled as she looked at her door and then back at you, “do you want to come in and do homework together? Joel’s not gonna be home till late.”

“I’d love that.”

ai audios:

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

662 notes · View notes

creedslove · 3 months

Note

I'm thinking about you often and wish you peace and quiet ♥️ even if we don't talk much, I consider you as a friend and I care about you.

What about Joel and his wife not talking, they have some quiet days. Wife is not happy, because Joel is not helping around the house and being busy at work, Joel forgot about her birthday. After he got home from work, his wife was like... gone.

He was going crazy, because she was not answering the phone, and it was late already. When she finally returned home, he was asking where she was, and it turned out, she was spending time with her friends, because they celebrated her birthday that Joel forgot about.

"Joel, do you even love me? I'm not angry, I'm just little tipsy and sad. Do you want divorce? Because I see we are not doing so well nowadays. I love you, but you are not loving me back, don't you?"

Joel is shocked and little angry. How his wife, most important person on earth for him, can think stuff like that. He loves her, he loves her so deeply, but he is not willing to admit that.

"you say dumb things, you are drunk, go to bed." Results in weeping and sniffles.

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: thank you thank you thank you honey, I love you so much you have no idea how much better your ask made me feel, your words are so sweet. I consider you my friend too, you're incredible honey 💕😘 love you 💋🫂

Also, this ask being so close to my bday (2 weeks from now) hit differently, so I'll change it just slightly to fit an idea I'd been working on, if it's okay? Love you 💕

INSPIRED BY THE SONG: I hate this part - Pussycat Dolls

• Joel grinded his teeth as he focused on the road; it was dark, raining and hard to see and he couldn't be angrier to be out so late at night having to pick you up from a night out with your friends; you knew he had work the next morning, so why did you do that to him? Not to mention the ugly stare you were giving him, which caused him to groan again

• you on the other hand, couldn't believe his nerve to give you shit like that, what was he even thinking about? You didn't know if Joel was acting up to punish you or if he had literally forgotten about it, it annoyed you to death, but annoyed wasn't really the right word, it angered you, because you never dreamed your husband could be that insensitive towards you

• Joel was driving faster than usual, he gripped the steering wheel and you could tell his knuckles were white, you sighed and looked out the window, disbelief growing as Joel wasn't going to say anything at. all. it was just so unfair of his reaction, considering he was the one acting up like a major asshole and not the other way around

• it hurt and angered you, he had no right to treat you like that, especially not after he was doing, he had no right to do so and when he ignored you a couple of times you called his name, you had enough

"stop the car, Joel!"

"what? No, I'm not gonna stop it"

"stop the car right now Joel, do it or I'll open this door!!!"

• you raised your voice at him, something you had never done it, but at that moment, it didn't matter, he'd pushed your buttons and you didn't want to be around him at all

"STOP THE FUCKING CAR!"

• you yelled again, and he finally pulled over, there were still a few blocks until you got home, but you didn't care, you got out of the car slamming the door behind you and didn't look back, it baffled you what a jerk Joel was really being, it didn't make any sense to you

• Joel on the other hand was so angry, he couldn't even word how pissed off you made him feel at that moment, he parked the car and went after you, groaning at how stubborn you were being

• it didn't take very long for him to reach you and grab your arm, pulling you closer

"what the fuck are you doing?!"

"it's my birthday you asshole! My fucking birthday and you forgot about it! Or you simply don't care about me to the point of not saying anything... Does it make any sense now that I was out celebrating? Because my fucking boyfriend couldn't remember"

• you said just as angrily, you were tired of Joel acting up as if he was the right one and not you; you broke free from his grip and walked away, you didn't want anything to do with that man at that moment

• Joel was shocked, his heart shattered at his own insensitivity and shook his head; he'd indeed forgotten about it, he'd just been so absorbed and stressed about work it simply slipped away from his mind

• but it didn't matter, he knew how bad it was and how deeply he'd hurt you and Joel wasn't going to forgive himself just as he knew you wouldn't forgive him either

• he asked you to wait, he needed to apologize and see what he could do to make things better: perhaps there was still time to take you out for dinner? Maybe the malls were still open and you could pick a present for yourself?

• but it wasn't as simple as he thought, when he asked you what he could do to redeem himself, all you did was shake your head and sigh

"there's nothing to be done, Joel... About this or about us... I think we should break up"

• you said and began walking away from him, at that moment, you and Joel couldn't be together anymore, it broke your heart but it was what you had to do

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

157 notes · View notes

dancinglikebutterflywings · 2 months

Text

Wolf Chan | Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Bang Chan x Reader.

Request: No.

Synopsis: Y/N's suspicions are confirmed on a Halloween night.

Warnings: Werewolves, fear, wounds, my poor attempt at scary. Fluffy ending. Repost from my now deactivated account.

Word Count: 1,093

Stray Kids Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines

©️ No one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my fics on here or any other site. Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated.

"Hey baby," Y/N speaks into her phone as she's greeted by her boyfriend's voicemail for the third time. When he doesn't answer his phone, she becomes concerned and decides to leave a message this time. It wasn't normal for Chan miss her calls, and if he did, he would call her as soon as he could. "Call me as soon as you get this, okay? I'm beginning to worry."

After ending the call, she checks her text messages before sending a text to Changbin and Han asking if Chan was still with them. They are the two who were likely to be know of what was going on since he spends most of the day with them. They both reply to the text right away, stating they haven't seen him since they took a lunch break.

Y/N circles back and begins walking towards Chan's apartment building. She is more worried than ever. Being a bit of a workaholic, Chan wouldn't just leave the studio without notifying anybody, especially those who are closest to him.

Her worry quickly turns to terror as she reaches his apartment and sees that the door is wide open and barely hanging on its hinges. A wolf's cry can be heard out in the distance, sending a shiver down her spine.

As she goes Chan's apartment, the sky open’s and it starts pouring rain, far in the distance the rumbling of thunder could be heard, adding to the fear she’s already experiencing. Gripping the strap of her shoulder bag tightly, her heart pounding against her chest, she steps through the doorway, crossing the threshold into his apartment.

"Channie?" She calls out to him in the pitch-darkness, but her voice comes out weaker and quieter than she expected.

She finds the light switch and flicks it on. She gasps and jumps as the bulb momentarily flickers before shattering into a million pieces, leaving her once again in darkness. The only light came from the full moon faintly illuminating the living area. Her heart is pounding against her chest so loudly that she can hear it with her own ears. While remaining in place, she clumsily pulls her phone from her bag and drops it on the ground. She picks it up with trembling hands and hastily makes another call to Chan.

The sound of Chan's phone ringing causes her to look around in fear. It's another strange element of the situation. In the same way that his laptop is an extension of him, Chan never leaves his home without his phone.

She drops her phone and screams aloud as a huge bang comes from behind her. She turns on her heal and sees Bang Chan, half naked, covered in blood, with enormous, jagged wounds that look like claws larger than a bear have torn through his flesh and appearing to be on the cusp of death's door. Her fear turns to panic as he slumps to the ground and passes out.

“Chan!” she shouts as she rushes towards him and tries to get him to wake up. “Chris! Christopher!”

When he doesn’t budge or stir, she moves to check his wounds. Seeing how deep they are, she hurries into the bathroom to find the first aid kit he keeps in there. Finding it under the sink, she grabs it hurries back to the kitchen.

Arriving back in the kitchen, she’s startled to find Chan missing. Fear creeping back into her veins, she looks around to see where he could have gone. In the dark room it was hard to see where he could be.

“Bang Chan?” she questions, her voice meek.

“What are you doing here?” She hears him ask, voice raspy and weak. The pain he’s in is evident in his tone.

“I’m worried about you,” she answers, looking in the direction his voice came from, but she can’t see a thing until a flash of lightening illuminates the apartment for less than a second. She finds his form leaning against the wall in the living room, slightly hunched over and shivering. “You never came for dinner, you weren’t answering your calls, and no one has seen you since midday.”

“Something came up,” he tells her. “You need to leave, now.”

“Let me help you,” she says going to take a step forward only for him to yell at her to stop.

“Go home, Y/N,” He continues to shout at her, his tone loud and booming over the pouring rain, shocking her. He’s never raised his voice like that at her before.

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay,” she tells him, her voice calm and assertive.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you're not.” she argues, and moves towards him.

Giving in, he allows her to help him into his bedroom. She switches on the light as the enter the room and places him on the bed. After getting a better look at his wounds and ignoring all of Chan’s protests, she heads back into the kitchen to grab the first aid kit she dropped.

Walking back into the bedroom, she finds Chan missing again. Hearing the running water coming from the bathroom, she walks into the room finding Chan with a damp cloth, wiping the blood from his skin. There are no more wounds littering his perfect body. The only sign of there any, is the blood that now stained the cloth he’s using and the pink water in the sink.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re a werewolf?” she asks leaning on the bathroom door frame, watching him.

“I was hoping, never,” he answers honestly. “But that would be impossible. How did you figure it out?”

“I got suspicious when you would only spend the whole night at the studios when there was a full moon,” she tells him. “Leading up to the full moon, you’re always on edge and a lot snappier and more aggressive. It’s also like you're in heat leading up to it as well.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you and you had to figure it out on your own,” he apologizes unplugging the sink, letting the pink stained water swirl down the drain.

“Promise me, you’ll let me help you from now on and that we’re in this together,” she asks. “I love you and don’t want to lose you.”

“I promise,” he answers, moving closer to her, bringing her into his arms. “But as soon as I tell you to leave, you leave. I don’t want to hurt her or worse.”

She nods and pulls him into a kiss.

©️ No one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my fics on here or any other site. Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated.

BANG CHAN: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups - @tinyelfperson - @yeonjunnie - @laylasbunbunny - @lixsimp143 - @skz1-4-3

GREEN means I wasn't able to tag you. Please check your visibility settings.

How to change visibility settings on phone | Why others can't tag your blog

155 notes · View notes

cod-z · 3 months

Text

Why do you HATE the rain, L.T?

You chose to read this, do NOT blame me if you ignore my warnings! TW: Angst, No Comfort, Death, Betrayal, Abuse, Trauma, Hint/Mention of SA on a Minor

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

| One-shots | Pt. 2 |

A/N: Realised that I really love writing angst but hate reading it lmao

Simon, or Ghost known out in the field, knew you since you were a child, yes, both you and the reaper of death were childhood best friends, never leaving each other’s side, taking on the world even with Simon’s questionable family problems that he always covered from you.

Always protecting the things he deemed weren’t good for your mind and soul, not wanting you grow up as fast as he did, he was older in his mind and his body is taking its time to catch up.

You and Simon were inseparable that was a fact, however between you two the dynamic was rather odd.

You were the troublemaker of the duo, always jumping into danger, never considering your safety, always taking the hits whenever Simon gets bullied at school or when his father gets so drunk he doesn’t recognise you when you came to get Simon’s sleepover gear, later on hiding the bruises and scars with make-up.

However, Simon didn’t know that he wasn’t the only one with family issues.

Your parents put up a facade whenever Simon came over for a sleepover with or without his sibling, having that sweet and parental attitude around them, taking care of them as if they were their children instead of you. And once Simon leaves, your parents would relish the anger and resentment onto you, baring you with multiple, questionable damages onto your body.

Your mother made sure you could no longer fathom a word with her ‘motherly love’, as she called it, unleashing her wrath onto you while your father’s form of ‘love’ lead you to being deflowered at a young age, him being the reason why you limped walking to school and why you didn’t shine bright as you did before - always feeling like filth.

Although your attitude always changes around Simon, always giving him a smile whenever he was near you, staying strong for him as he does for you.

“That doesn’t scare you, does it?” Simon gives you a wary smile while he watches you balance on the railing of the bridge, your dress being blown gently by the wind as you stick your arms out, giggling while giving him a reassuring smile.

“What’s there to be afraid of?”

“You could fall.”

“Yeah but I’m not,” you chuckle still walking on the railing like a tightrope, Simon still being paranoid as he watches you, eventually you reach the end of the bridge. You start to laugh at Simon’s protectiveness which earned you a playful glare which causes you to laugh harder, in turn, Simon starts to laugh as well. Just two kids against the world.

That was then, this is now.

You were just a Sergeant amongst the Task Force 141, they already had two Sergeants, both, capable of completing missions as a duo or a soloist, so can you but Sim- Ghost doesn’t seem to think so.

Over the years when you both grew up, Simon wasn’t as degrading as he was now, you remember the times where he’d pick you up when you fell down.

When you were back in secondary school, you and Simon had been a main target of bullying due to rumours of you homes and family, they weren’t wrong but you both weren’t going to give them the satisfaction of letting them get under your skin nor would you allow them to shit talk about Simon and vice versa.

You both cared deeply for one another, always watching each other’s back, both in and out of school grounds, knowing bullies won’t be reprimanded once they leave school gates, sure, you could tell the teacher but you both didn’t trust any adults.

However during a chase where both of you were out numbered, Simon had accidentally caught himself on the fence when he tried to crawl underneath it, it was hooked onto his right ankle, only hooking onto the sock but you were sure he had scratches underneath, the metal wire broken the material.

He looked towards you when you grabbed his sleeves and tug on it, trying to set him free but the gang were catching up and Simon didn’t want you hurt because of the fight he had started.

“Please, let me go!”

Your panicked eyes dart to him, looking at him as if he was crazy, you shake your head defying his orders while still trying to tug him free.

“It’s you and me, Si. Us against the worl—” you were cut off when you heard fabric being ripped apart and Simon was now on top of your legs, his head rested on your laps and the sounds of rushed footsteps nears the alleyway that you had escaped.

The gang leader punches the metal wire while glaring at the two of you, cursing words at you both for hitting his mate with a branch. You both looked at each other before dashing off, the distance of cursing fading and your laughs replacing the sound.

You remember it so clearly and yet you think to yourself, was any of it real?

You stood in front of Ghost, his figure looming over yours, you eyes meeting one another as both of you know that their former, young friend no longer embodies their adult skeleton, both are grown and both are different.

The years that gapped between them were long many things had changed, Ghost lost his family while you had killed yours, you knew what happened to Ghost but he didn’t know what happened to you, you were both strangers, co-workers.

Forced, co-workers.

You had been a slave to Phillip Graves and General Shepherd, you had worked for the Shadow Company, being spared by the remorseful side of Ghost that had died or who you formally known as Simon Riley - your childhood best friend, the best friend that died along with his family, the friend that disappeared, the friend that left you to fend for your own. The man that stood in front of you, today.

You glared at him and he glared at you.

“I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” his deep, gruff voice ring into your ear.

You don’t flinch while you both have a stand off, neither one of you backing down even with the harsh words being thrown back and forth in silence, his arms folding against his chest.

He hadn’t known why he spared you, he had his knife against your throat as you were left for dead by the Shadow Company, but he kept you alive. He doesn’t understand why he did so, you weren’t Ghost’s friend, you were Simon Riley’s best friend, the part of Ghost that died and the being of his reborn self.

However he was surprised that you hadn’t reacted out towards him from abandoning you, leaving you and not contacting you after everything he had been through, not that he couldn’t, he felt it would be best if he had left your life as he was back then. Saving you from the man he has become and known of as today, but you weren’t no different, you had changed too and not only as his enemy but as the young girl he used to love deeply.

You no longer had your enchanting smile, you no longer had the glimmer in your eyes, you no longer give that hypnotic laugh when others made jokes even with the ones he would mumble out, ones you used to laugh at.

“If you know what’s good for you ‘darlin’,” you mock his accent and the little nickname that he gave you when you first reunited while waving your hand behind you, brushing off the intense gaze he had on you. “you’ll leave me alone.”

You spat at him before brushing past him, purposely bumping his broad arms due to your height, of course it didn’t phase him but you were to petty and prideful to turn away and scowl at him more. Ghost on the other hand stared at your retreating form, his gaze solemn and softer - he missed you but you weren’t you.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” he mumbles underneath his breath, unfolding his arms as he rests them at his side.

“You don’t know what you’re asking me to admit,” the echoes of your hollow words hitting him hard.

He knows what you did to your parents, he now knows the same abuse you faced when you were kids and it pained him that he never figured it out, oblivious to all the signs. Regret that he couldn’t comfort you.

“You can’t save me and just leave me to bleed, Simon,” younger you chuckle as you play dead on the ground in your parent’s backyard with a makeshift castle out of cardboard, Simon dressed up as a knight in shining armour, defeating the dragon but it had left you falling to your doom.

Simon giggles at your silliness as you play dead, he began to tickle you until you’re both chasing one another, laughing and screaming as you take turns tickling one another. Collapsing after tiring yourselves out onto the grass while you both stared up into the sky, your hands intertwined together platonically.

“We’ll always be together, right?” you smile towards Simon while he gives you a small smile back, one of his front tooth being gone.

“Always!” he chuckles.

The innocence you both shared nothing but a faded memory as you stare up at the sky, no longer the pretty blue that you remembered all those years ago, Simon was still at your side. His body laid next to yours as you both get covered in your blood, his hand holding onto yours, his mask off his head as you both lay there on the ground.

You had been shot, a vital organ being pierced through with the bullet and there was no way to save you from your demise.

You weren’t scared, you were never scared whenever you’re with Simon Riley and that’s who Ghost was now, he was your Simon Riley and you were you, no longer hiding behind a call sign. Both of you enjoying your last moments together, him dying all over again as Simon Riley and you dying as yourself all these years ago. Finally able to join your parents in the fire down below.

“You know, I thought it was never gonna end with us together,” you glances towards him, his eyes glancing towards yours, he doesn’t respond but thinks about the situation. You chuckle weakly at his lack of response, classic Simon, which makes you cough up blood.

Seeing you in this state he lightly chuckle himself as he thinks about it as Simon, no longer Ghost as he watches his childhood friend and interest, die next to him. Another painful memory to add for his nightmares and night terrors, knowing he’ll remember your face as you fade away from him, him regretting that he didn’t seek you out, protecting you from the world like all he did when he was younger. His heart was weeping and aching while he tightly held your hand, feeling the beat of your heart diminishing and your skin slowly going cold by the second.

“Maybe it could’ve, if I wasn’t such a coward,” he covers his eyes with his arm as he hides the tears that threatened to fall, maybe things would’ve been different if he had just…

“I don’t regret meeting you,” your voice hoarse while you look back up at the sky, a small smile plastered on your lips, Simon removing his arm as he looks at your features, imbedding it into his head before he loses you. “I never did.”

His heart swelled, his eyes softening, his other hand slowly placing itself on your cheek and guides it to face him. Both of your eyes locked together, the countdown of final moments starting now, you could feel yourself slipping away, away from the cruel world that you were birthed into and away from the one person you ever dared to get close to and reunite again. Both of you knew this was the end of the troublemaker duo who both fought against the world, the world fighting back to take one of them down.

“I’m still not afraid,” you whispered out, your chest slowly lifting up and down as you get weaker. “Not when I’m with you…”

Your eyelids slowly lower themselves as you give a final delicate smile, the rain slowly inviting itself into the pity party, starting out with small raindrops landing onto their bodies. Your hand’s grip slowly loosening around Simon’s but he held on tighter, though you no longer felt the tightness as your nerves fail to respond to the pain.

Simon holds his breath as he watches you take a few more slow breathes, his heart aching at the sight of you fighting for a little bit more time to be with him, to stay with him and yet he was a coward to even think of a response to say, he needed something to say. He brushes the hair that covered your beautiful face that he adored, ignoring the blood on your lips, he grazes his lips over yours, a delicate kiss for the Princess he couldn’t protect.

“I’ll see you again, even if we’re dead…”

The faint sound of your last breath cuts the air with silence, the rain pouring down onto both of you and other corpses, the blood being merged into the dirt and mud, his hands still holding onto yours, the warmth long gone. This was the true resting ground where Simon Riley had died, next to the person who he couldn’t have and never will.

Ghost stood up as he was reborn once more, this time colder, meaner and heartless.

The one he loved had his heart in their shared grave.

A/N: hehe used all the prompts as sentences, fun.

Host(s): @xxshadowbabexx

205 notes · View notes

fanaura · 1 year

Note

can you write an nsfw where there’s like this ‘mating ritual’ where when a two na’vi want to mate the male must earn his woman by being able to successfully catch her/hunt her down as she runs away and tries not to be caught? so in this nsfw neteyam is hunting his soon to be mate and there’s lots of teasing but eventually he catches her and they mate? love your writing x

STOP THAT IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA Y'ALL ARE JUST TOO CREATIVE FOR THIS WORLD OMG

yes ofc i can!! and tysm i appreciate it xx

pairing: neteyam x omaticayan!reader - aged up (23 + 22)

content warnings: sexual content, queues connecting, p-in-v, neteyam being an experienced boi caused he's older and KNOWS his way around the bedroom, slight breeding kink, this ritual is completely fan-made as far as I'm aware!! I'm only following from what this person has written.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your feet thudded on the soft dirt floor of the forest as you ran through it, dodging and weaving tree stumps and the smaller animals of your home. The faint smell of sweat hung in the air from the effort, the sound of Neteyam's breath expelling and inhaling in ease, his strong body staying close behind you.

You sped up as you ran past a bend in the path Neteyam had been chasing you through for the past 10 minutes, as a part of the People's mating ritual. It was very traditional and slightly outdated, but with everything you and Neteyam had been through in the war with the Sky People, you wanted to make a big fuss over the mating, to make it special.

Since the time of the First Songs, it was the option for a male and female about to mate to begin The Hunt; a mating ritual in which the female was to run from her partner, until they caught up to each other, where they then mate for life. Again, some would call it silly. But after Neteyam's fierce and horrific encounters with death throughout the war - all you wanted was something to commerate it.

He was gaining on you - drawing closer and closer as you got more tired, legs aching and heavy - anticipation also causing you to decelerate. Neteyam's warrior frame stayed steady compared to your singer's body. While some females chose the path of warriors, healers, hunters, you chose to sing. Singing the words of Eywa was honourable, and made you feel closer to her and the People, but it didn't bless you with the powerful musculature others had developed. It made you feel so guilty during the War, when you had to stay back and sit around worriedly in missions because it was more dangerous for you than useful. You were a liability.

The thoughts were a useless spiral, so you shook them away, right as Neteyam reached you and wrapped his arms around your waist and tackled you to the dirt ground.

"Nete-YAM!" you squealed as you tumbled and he began tickling you.

"Stop!" you breathe-screamed in between giggles.

"What was that? Keep going?" He said, relentless. One of his large hands held both of yours together as he kept going.

"Neteyam! You skxawng!" You screamed again, abs hurting as you panted.

He was also smiling, but he let go of your hands and rose, so he was on his knees as he pulled you up as well. The grin had now softened, his eyes boring into your very soul, every thought, every movement, every heartbeat.

In an unexplained unison, you both reach behind for your queues, eyes still focused on each other with bated breath.

"My Yawne," my beloved, he mumured so quietly you almost couldn't hear him. You both brought the tips of your braids together and watched as they made Tsaheylu.

"Neteyam," you breathed out the air you had been holding in your lungs, and he gasped, eyes fluttering. He groaned and put his head down on the crook of your neck, heaving.

The swell of everything; his soul mixing with yours in a swirl of heat and love and passion, all blending together in harmony, like the ocean meets the sky and the earth meets the rain. A compliment, a perfect fit.

You lightly grabbed his face, bringing his lips to touch yours, heavy and full of lust.

Neteyam ended up on top of you again, but this time his face was sultry and focused. He kissed your cheek, your neck, your lips, and continued down. He worshipped you. The valley between your now bare breasts, your stomach, your thighs, and the bundle of nerves sitting in between them.

It wasn't like you both were inexperienced in any way. There were stolen moments over the years throughout the chaos of war, a silence in the midst of a storm. It had given you both the opportunity to learn and experiment with each other, which had allowed you to figure out what you liked, and the same for Neteyam. But you couldn't deal with him taking it slow now, not when all you wanted to do was touch every inch of his body, to calm the overwhelming feeling of everything swirling inside you. You knew Neteyam was only going painfully slow because he knew this, and he felt the same.

"Tease," you huffed, grabbing his jaw desperately and kissing him fiercly. He chuckled, kissing you back.

"You want it, do you?" He asked in between kisses. You whined, arching into him.

"Nuh uh," he said, pulling back and going to speak in your ear, his voice and breath in your ear sending shivers down your whole body.

"Use your words," he said, left hand dragging up your torso and breasts, drawing lazy circles that turned you to jelly beneath him.

"I want you inside me, Neteyam," you choke out, just as his hand reaches the wetness between your legs.

"Oh yeah?" He moved his loincloth and your own, positioning his cock right at your entrance, again teasing you even as you clawed at his back and tried to pull him closer to you, craving contact. He resisted.

"Yes. Neteyam- please," you said tremulously.

"Well, since you used your manners..." he brought one of his hands down and guided himself in you, the thickness of him stretching your folds, as he had done many times before, but has never ceased to drive you mad.

He started off painfully slow, moving in and out of your wet cunt. You moaned, planting both hands at the back of his neck so your foreheads were touching.

"Faster," you whispered, and he obliged, pounding in an out of you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your eyes fluttered closed. He was kissing your neck, and you knew you would be left with purple marks on your already blue skin.

Neteyam groaned, a sound that immediately deepend your pleasure, bringing you up higher and higher to reach your peak.

"Come on," he said your name while he moved in you, you writhing and grasping at anything to hold on to.

"That's it, baby. You're almost there, just a little more for me," you mewled and cried out, finally reaching your climax.

The dizzying satisfaction you felt was drawn out as Neteyam sped up to also reach his addictive high, spilling his seed into your dripping pussy.

#avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar fanart #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar imagine #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #fanaura replies #fanaura's freaks #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x reader

2K notes · View notes

ruanais · 4 months

Text

。。。 FOUR, NINE, THIRTEEN 。。。

• — { omnipresent. chapter one: }

• — {warnings : mentions of suicide, dark content, no nsfw but things that could be triggering, dazai :P , bad writing, reader curses a lot, maybe some typos, etc. etc.}

• — {special thanks to : silver for helping me write + plan the plot, thank u to red and kat for taking their time to beta read, and thank u to mai for also helping with the plot ! }

• — { tagging the people who expressed interest ! @settingssun | @silverbladexyz @cheriiyaya | @kxttqi | @riiwrites + comment under this post to be tagged ! }

THE FIRST TIME Dazai Osamu met you, it was midnight. he was just walking to a bar and you were on the edge of a bridge railing, dressed in a school uniform. probably from a prestigious high school and not more than 15, he guessed when he took a better look at you.

it was raining a storm, Rain had soaked through your clothes, and your hair was drenched. Paired with the harsh wind, you must be freezing.

You were looking down at the river, a rather far away look in your eyes as you were seemingly in a dilemma, weighing two choices and-

oh.

dazai had already got the gist of what you were about to do, yet made no motion whatsoever. still and silent as a shadow, even when you took in a sharp breath and stepped off, falling down to the river’s current

a splash and you were gone forever, leaving him alone on the bridge.

now he was blankly staring at where you were mere seconds ago. not caring to even move. rooted at where he was. but several questions ran through his mind at that moment.

did you notice him staring?

it wasn’t any use thinking about it so he let it go.

the second time he encountered you, he had heard a series of gunshots then quickly headed to there. you were already dead. shot by someone he couldn’t catch.

Obviously, he was surprised to see your face but quickly collected himself, called the police, and left. finding it suspicious but quickly brushing it off his mind as he had more urgent and important matters to take care of than the measly death of someone he didn’t know.

the third time he saw you, you were crossing the street. a calico cat in your arms as you talked to it, petting its fur and a warm smile on your face.

then, you turned your head and caught sight of him, you widened your eyes seemingly in recognition, but you had ran, almost as if you were trying to escape from him.

well, dazai had tried to chase after you. But in your haste, you had failed to look at the road. tires screeched and you got hit by a car.

he had ran and reached out his hand to try and pull you away despite knowing it was futile. but it was too late. blood splattered on him, staining his hand. Not that he ever cared.

the cat was unhurt though, somehow miraculously shielded by your body. its large eyes looking into his’s before letting out a small meow then ran away. leaving you on the ground.

sirens cut through the deathly silence, medics quickly rushing out of an ambulance after a bystander called the police. arriving just a few minutes later.

He tsked, running his hand through his hair, and and slipped away from there, away from that street, never to return.

on the fourth time, he saw you again. now convinced that you were a special case, he had to find you before you were gone.

but unfortunately, he was too late again. you were a member of an rival organisation, holding important information and so was captured, interrogated, then brutally killed by one of the executive’s ability. crimson red blood pooled around your corpse before he got a chance to talk to you.

“she already told us what we needed to know already. it’s no use keeping her around.” was what ozaki said when he demanded an explanation. “best to kill them before they cause further trouble. Say, dazai, don’t tell me-?” she frowned, shooting him a small glare. sighing deeply when he shook his head no.

“I have to say, she was quite pathetic. Immediately telling us everything when we threatened the lives of her subordinates… I overestimated her.” was what she said while walking away slowly disappearing into the darkness, leaving him alone in the dim room.

it was strange, he had to admit. the fact that you died every time before he got the chance to talk to you was quite eerie. not that he could do anything about it. Then, he left you again, leaving his underlings to clean up the mess.

it happened nine times more, but instead of seeing you directly, he saw it on the news or heard it from his acquaintances. looking at your picture, you looked different in every universe but you had the same features. just enough to be recognizable.

…

He was in the agency now, a new member. And amazingly, in record time, he was already doppo kunikida’s worst nightmare.

today was his third day. how boring was this?

in short: indescribable.

he felt like a deer caught in a spotlight. Far too out of place. Dazai knew how to put on an act, one to cover his true intentions quite nicely. Not enough to fool edogawa, of course. But enough to fool everyone else.

he had listened to what odasaku had told him, be someone who saves people. he did or tried, or it would be something that he would do later. Depends, really.

…maybe one of the reasons he decided to follow through with his friend’s words was to make himself feel better. From what though?

the guilt of not being able to save you? Maybe not stopping you from dying on the first time you met?

Impossible. he was known as the demon prodigy after all when he was back in the port mafia, famous for being someone who had no remorse for murdering hundreds or committing endless heinous crimes.

How troublesome. Such emotions were an obstacle to his goals.

He tried to get rid of it. ignoring the guilt that was eating his heart away helped only a bit. But distractions helped. A few bottles of sake and his guilt would leave him for a while.

But maybe paired with the fact that he couldn’t help nor save sakunosuke oda only made it worse.

guilt was annoying. Troublesome, a nuisance. just about anything that was negative, he thinks, leaning back in his seat and ignoring the reports he has to write.

actually, all emotions were useless. Was what he thought, turning around and around.

…come to think of it, he never saw you in this universe before. nor even heard of you.

maybe you don’t even exist right now.

which is weird. since you seem to pop up randomly in every universe he’s in.

really, really, reallyyyyyyy suspicious-

“Ow!”

A book hit his head, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Get to work dazai!”

ah yes, classic kunikida. Always and forever strict and doesn’t like fun. Why were all math teachers like that? oh. even former ones. all they do is yell, scream, scold, yep math is definitely ruining the minds of everyone.

“Fineeee…these are boring though… I’ll do it later….” he whines, laying his head on his desk, drawing random shapes with his finger on the light brown wooden table.

“Just do your work already!” Kunikida yelled, clearly at his breaking point.

“Come onnnn kunikidaaaaa just let me have some funn~”

“You can have fun after work is over-“

“Aaah! sorry I'm late!”

The agency’s door bangs open, and a disheveled young woman appears.

you?

he automatically freezes, eyes widening as he feels a chill run down his spine, dazai did just a quick double check to see if his vision is finally failing him.

the same eye colour? check.

the same hair colour? check.

the same height? check.

check, check, check.

fuck

Was what Dazai thinks after mentally checking off everything. His eyebrows furrowing. it was getting even more suspicious. Normally, you would die before he got to interact with you, so isn't this practically giving him a chance to know about you? What the hell does it- does it even fucking make sense?

obviously not.

which…didn’t make things any easier.

kunikida mutters something under his breath before marching towards you, ready to give out yet another lecture. “Now why were you late?!”

“uhm…I had to work a longer shift?” you said, shifting from one foot to the other. “Uh…it also didn’t help that there were more customers than usual..?” you added, awkwardly smiling as you sweatdropped nervously.

“how many times do I have to tell you to fix your schedule?!” kunikida practically screams at you. “This has been the 5th time this month!” he stomps his foot before sighing, walking back to his seat and sitting down before checking his watch; “see? Now you’ve made me 3 minutes behind!” he groans, but promptly pushes back up his eyeglasses and opens back his computer to work.

“It wasn’t my fault- oh! new member huh? hi. want meat buns anyone?” you raise up a paper bag of warm buns, waiting for their response. instantly, almost everyone in that room raises their hand up. Except for kunikida and dazai.

“…we need to save some for president and haruno though.” Yosano reminded you as she reached into the bag for one. “i bought another bag of them, it’s fine!” you reassured her, then walked towards dazai.

“hey, you. Do you like meat buns?” you ask, before letting him having a chance to answer, you stuffed the whole bun into his mouth when you got the chance, “it’s good right?” ignoring the fact that he may be choking right now. But who cares when you have dr. yosano?

“Yep!” he replies after a while when he finished the bun, putting on a charming smile, pausing for a few moments before adding something utterly ridiculous; “would you be interested in committing a double suici-?”

“no.” you interrupted, cutting him off. hitting his head with a folder you took from kunikida’s desk. Not noticing the slight ouch he let out. “I’m far too young to die yet.” You declare, taking out a bun and apparently practically inhaling it in less than a minute.

“What’s your name by the way?” “Dazai Osamu.” “That’s a weird name.” You remark, placing back the folder. “Anyways, I’m [name].“

“no last name?” “[name]’s surname is a mystery to everyone. only the president and ranpo know it, but apparently they wont even give a hint.” Yosano yawned stretching her arms.

“But, if you successfully guess what is her last name, you get half the money in her purse!” A random staff member chimed in.

“shut up!” you huff, “and my last name isn’t that important anyways! Besides, I’m not paying anyone for guessing my last name correctly-“

“all of you shut up! We won’t ever get any work done at this rate! Dazai, focus on your damned reports! [name]! Help organise these folders!”

kunikida hollered, now practically spitting fire. Well, to avoid trouble, everyone got to work. Expect for dazai that is. Unfortunately, he was still lazing around until you threatened to tell the president of his tardiness.

“Who knew [name] could be so strict? you really wouldn’t know her from just 3 years ago.” yosano teases as you glare at her. “Let’s not talk about that time.” You cringe, tensing up at the memory.

“ehh? but you were so cute back then! now you’re just a boring adult…” the doctor sighs, “at least I can go out to drink with you now.” she added, browsing through grotesque pictures of victims’ deaths. “oooo now this looks good…” she mumbled, absorbed in choosing the next picture to hang in her room.

“Well im glad that I changed.” you say as you pour some coffee into your cup. How the coffee machine got placed on your desk was a wonder but no one asked why, already used to your rather unusual actions.

“Mmm…pretty sure you’re the only one that feels like that.”

…

“I swear to God I’m gonna dieeee…” you slump in your chair, frowning after a few hours passed. evening had arrived and it was just about 6:00PM. The sun was in the process of setting, a warm orange-reddish glow settled around the agency.

everyone was occupied with something; dazai with his beloved a guide to suicide book, you with your day dreaming, kunikida with his work, yosano with her pictures, the staff with their own things, and ranpo who finally arrived after buying his snacks and is now feasting on them.

“there’s more work for today. Good job everyone. Feel free to home and rest.” the president suddenly appears from from his office, a black cat and haruno following him close behind.

Fukuzawa Yukichi: the man responsible for creating the Armed Detective Agency. the cat sat down the floor, then stared up at the president, letting out a small ‘meow!’ earning a few “awwws” from the agency staff and members.

“goodness…that cat is cute…” you murmur, playing with a pen. “I’ll bet I’ll scare the shit outta them the second i try to go near there though. what a shame.” You sigh before picking up your phone, after hearing numerous pings, you quickly scrolled through them, then got up, took your bag and started out.

“well then, thank you all for the hard work and please excuse me for leaving before you. I’ll see you all tomorrow then. Also! president! There’s a bag of meat buns for you and haruno! enjoy!” You waved, opened the door, and left. stretching your arms when you felt like you finally tasted the freedom of after finishing work.

you soon arrived at the train station, buying a ticket then entered the train. Suprisingly, there weren’t too much people. That’s good. after all, being stuffed in a train with loads of people like sardines in a can was never fun.

sitting down, you glanced out the window, admiring how pretty the sky looked when the sun was setting. Maybe you should wake up earlier tomorrow to see the sunrise…which would probably never happen since waking up in the mornings were hell.

nothing was really new. you followed the same routine everyday. wake up, brush your teeth, eat something, dress, then head to uzumaki cafe to work.

Which usually lasted until the afternoons. Then, you walked up to the agency’s office and helped with almost anything until your roommate spammed your messages to buy groceries or beer or whatever.

you’d head back, make dinner, do chores, shower, mess around then practically pass out in your bed until 7:00am and repeat.

you followed the same routine today as well, get back, made dinner, which today consisted of rice, vegetables, and soup. after that, you headed to bed a bit later than usual. due to innasomia from caffeine.

you really shouldn’t have drunk that much coffee at night.

either way, you were content with how things were. And you had thought that tomorrow would be the same as before until you woke up due to your phone ringing.

squinting at your clock, you wince. It was quite early: 8:00am and you only got 4 hours of sleep. just the day when you got the rare chance to head to work late.

groaning, you reached for your phone blindly, knocking down a few things until you could finally get a hold of it.

“…hello?” You groggily ask when you answer the phone, immediately snapping awake from your half asleep state after realising what the other person on the line just said.

“what the actual living fuck?”

rua’s notes : and that concludes the first chapter! whoaaaa it sure took a while huh :0 since it’s only the 1st, I wont immediately write abt the reader and osamu’s relationship :3 also, the reader has a ability ! (just wait a few more chapters) also chapter two will be focusing back on dazai !

thank u for reading this cringy ass fic that I stayed up all night writing !

#Bsd x reader #x reader #dazai x reader #dazai #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #x f! Reader #kinda cringe idk #bsd x reader angst #Angst #ᨳ rua’s works 𐙚୨୧𐙚

178 notes · View notes