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otakuworks · 1 year

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❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔. angst

feat. Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader | wc. 2.1K

sum. it was always him who has to go and leave you with the cold sheets, leon didn't know what it felt like until he came home with an empty house and no signs of your warmth. he makes it to his mission to find you.

note. entirely self indulgent since I'm a sucker for this man. no leon in this fic is not as old as he was in the gif.

main m.list re m.list

Today the storm would hit. All the local news channels were talking about the immense storm that was brewing just outside the city walls. You usually prefer the tranquility it brought if it wasn't for the gloomy atmosphere in the room.

Dim lights, closed tawdry curtains and half eaten confectionery. This setting was not unfamiliar to you, in fact, you had grown accustomed to the regular loneliness that it became your best friend.

With your boyfriend far away, it wasn't hard to decipher you were in a relationship with someone who prioritize their work.

It's a bitter thought at first, but as much as you want Leon to switch job you had already adapted this type of life as his S/O. He provided your necessities in his absence, but you still worked your ass to earn your own money

But. . . such glamorous life is not as tempting as being alone in that cold home and befriending with the ghosts that haunt your nightmares.

To a stranger's standpoint they may think Leon Kennedy is a Prince Charming; he may look the part, but to you, he was just an awkward boyfriend with little to no experience when it came to romance. He was rough around the edges and a goal-orientated person, but a natural smooth flirt with you.

Maybe that's what drawn you to him. Leon is a charming and handsome man who only has raw emotions to confess. You remember how adorable he was when he fumbled his confession.

You miss the startup of your relationship; the typical hand holding, the cliche whispers of sweet nothingness, the innocent stolen glances, the often awkward conversation that led to one another.

Relationships do start like a paradise before eventually becoming a dystopian nightmare. It was fun at the start, you enjoyed the times you spent with Leon and you wouldn't trade those memories for anything, however. . . it's been so long since you've seen paradise.

It's always the dawn light basking you in its morning warm before the cold space besides your bed wakes you up to reality.

Today was no different. You wake up, take a hot bath, make breakfast, eat your breakfast, brush your teeth, go to work, make or buy lunch, go home, nap, make dinner then sleep. A repetitive cycle that still leaves you bedridden oftentimes.

You're aware of his profession. No, he didn't tell you anything and he doesn't know that you know. You were smart enough to deduce this much on what's going on with your boyfriend, that's why you understood why he had to be away for such long periods of time.

Hadn't you pieced it together, you'd doubt his loyalty to you. You badly want to confront him with the relevation you found, but he hasn't been answering your texts nor calls. So you let it be.

Until you received a short message from him;

"Hey, sweet cake. I'll be back by tomorrow morning."

You laugh bitterly. Every text he sends is neither comprised with a greeting of his arrival or his departure. Now that you think about it. One strong scroll up to your previous conversations and you'll be overwhelmed by a tons of same texts.

Thunder roared, the heavy rain began pelting down and you took it as a sign to retire to your shared bedroom.

You slumped in the mattress with a blissful sigh, today's work was tiring as usual. Sleep was lulling you in your dreams when you heard an audible thud reverberating in the living room.

*THUD*

Bristling, a frown settled on your forehead and tried to make sense if it was a figment of your imagination due to lassitude or there's someone in the house. The latter made your heart leap and you promptly got up, out of your somnambulism.

The harsh pitter pat plus the occasional thunder outside only increases the building anxiety in your chest.

Was it Leon? It couldn't be him when he just texted me. He usually rings the bell, and that's not how our doorbell sounds.

Albeit slowly as to try not to make any noise, you peak through the small gap between the door's hinges and a shadow immediately loomed the other side.

Out of instinct, you gasped audibly and clamped your hands over your mouth, hoping whoever's outside has a poor hearing sense.

Your eyes darted in the small room to find any form of weapon you can defend yourself. If Leon works for the government, surely he must be hiding his guns somewhere in his home.

However, you weren't quick enough to deduce the possible location before the door is kicked open making you shriek in fright and hid on the other side of the bed.

You had grabbed your phone on the nightstand and began to type to your boyfriend. Hopefully he'll see it before you get killed.

This intruder is not even hiding the fact they're here. If so, they're not your simple criminal who steals at night.

"Never thought I'd hear the rookie got himself a partner in life, he can't even get a partner in his job." A gruff voice bounced off the four walls of the small room.

It's definitely not Leon and you've never met this man before.

A glinting object from the drawers of your night stand caught your undivided attention. With shaking hands, you fumble to open the drawer and nearly sigh out of relief when you came across a simple gun. You immediately snatched it and switch the safety.

Footsteps began to near your spot. "What a shame, though. I love a good hunt and you didn't even give me a proper one. You're disappointing as your boyfriend." In one swift movement, the bed you were hiding was swooped from the other corner.

Your terrified scream were drowned by the sound of the loud banging reverberating countless times in the room, the poor wooden bed easily breaking upon meeting the cold stone wall with such brutal force. The pieces clanked with a rough thud.

You coiled tightly like a spring in the corner with your almost unhinged jaws, full moon eyes, chattering teeth, drenched temples and shuddering shoulders.

In your frenzy state, you subconsciously held the gun at the man, fingers curling on the trigger. "Ah! Ah! It won't do you any good if you pull that. After all, my knives are faster than guns."

"W-Who are you?" You praised yourself for even uttering those words as you look up at the bulky man. The most noticeable feature you noticed is the scar running from left eye to the side of his lips. He's clad in what it looks like a standard military outfit.

An airy chuckle left his mouth, he bends down on your level making you recoil even further at the corner.

"Who am I? Let's ask your boyfriend after he saves you, that is, if he will come save you. Sweet dreams, Y/N L/N."

You were harshly slammed in the head before you could wonder how he knows your name or if you had the time to send Leon a parting message.

A cold breeze morning welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets, ever so vibrant; full of life, peope, kaleidoscopic colors, children laughing. The only thing missing is you.

Leon was originally ecstatic about his somewhat safe return in your arms. He hasn't been home in literal months and saying he misses you would be an understatement of the year.

The previous mission took a while to accomplish because of unprecedented occurrences that made it impossible to finish in the given set of time.

But his ardor energy was brought down at the mention of another yet mission to accomplish. It's worse to think he can't even refuse it because it was given to him by the direct orders of the president.

What's even worse is that he has to fly to another country for this.

He was thankful enough that he gets to spend his day with you before departing to Spain. He's both physically and mentally drained to think about it. All he needs is to cuddle with you and convey about the many things he wants to talk with you.

It's the best he could do for you if he'd be away for god knows how long. He feels guilty for keeping you in his life if this is the treatment you'll receive from him.

You never asked him any questions, it's always about his health and everything, but personal questions? You never did. He knows it isn't because you're not interested, it's more like you already know.

He shakes his head at the thought. He's confident he has been discreet enough to not let anything slip on what he deals in his job.

Reaching the shared house, a sudden uneasiness crept in his back. It looks relatively normal on the outside, but Leon can't help the nagging feeling that something is not right.

He dropped his duffel bag by the door and cautiously rang the bell.

Each passing second being unresponsive was filled with anxiety.

Perhaps you're at work. With that in mind, he fished out the spare key to unlock the door. Upon turning the knob, the hinges fell apart until the whole door collapsed on the tiled floor.

On a daily scenario, Leon would've taken out his gun or knife by now knowing someone had broke in his home, where he thought you'd be the safest. You.

But he has been reduced to a state of panic that his eyes became frantic and his breathing became labor. No! No! No! NO!

The most rational thing would've been calling the cops to report this. The thing is, Leon is nowhere near rational. If any living thing crosses his path, god knows what he might do regardless if they're innocent or not.

"Y/N!" He ran straight to their bedroom. What he saw blurred his sense of reality. He can't even fathom what animal did this.

No. . . it's not a work of any animal. He's been around to all types of violence to decipher who did this. Fuck! This can't be happening.

Overwhelmed by the surge of fear, his mind alluded him under the illusion that Y/N could be hiding somewhere in the house. He searches the whole place.

Every room, even ones that don’t make sense— basement, pantry, closet, attic— are thrown open haphazardly in search of you. Each passing room turning out to be empty is taking more of his sanity.

Reality dawned him. You're gone. Taken. Captured. Possibly turned

Before he realizes it, a lone tear cascaded on his cheek.

This man was trained to be a cop, fought zombies on his first day, held his gun at any threats, obeyed any command. He's a soldier who's first instinct is to fight back when he's kicked down, who never gives up when he loses and yet. . .

He was slumped on the floor. Weakened. Hopeless.

The word 'irony' is quite befitting for him. He, who has been fighting all his life, can't even get up at the mere prospect of his S/O's disappearance.

He loves you. He fucking loves you so much it puts the word itself into shame. He didn't show it enough though.

Now that you're gone, he began to realize certain things. How lonely you must be whenever he leaves. What emotions you're feeling when he can't response to your texts. Do you think he's unfaithful? Well, he can't blame you.

He's always choosing work over you and often going behind your back to accomplish simple missions when he's supposed to be with you at night. It's considered as cheating, isn't it?

He gnawed his lip, head starting to clear but the agony stayed. No, he can't be swayed by his emotions like this. If he can accomplish the most impossible missions why can't he do the same with you?

He'll find you.

Once he does, there's nothing on Earth that'll stop him from raining hell on your captors.

©OTAKUWORKS | 2023

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #res4 #resident evil remake #leon kennedy angst #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy fic

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zablife · 18 days

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Lee! Hope you're doing well 💋 so I so your prompt for the requests and if you're feeling inspired with this what about?

- ❛ I’ve killed for you. Who else can say that? ❜

with Tommy?

The Debt

Warning: Dark!Tommy 💀, mention of gun, blood, murder, trauma

You bit your hand to keep from screaming as the man in the long, black overcoat pushed you inside your small bedsit. The door slammed behind you as you stumbled toward the window, pushing the lace curtains aside with trembling fingertips. The remnants of blood were still there on the cobblestones beside the alley, though it was quickly being washed away in the driving rain.

Your memories of the violence carried out in your name would not be erased so easily. The bile rose in your throat as you thought of each shot striking its target, blood gushing over the pavement and splattering onto your shoes. You looked down to see the evidence of the stains that had ruined your new boots, an odd sensation washing over you as though you were staring at someone else's feet rather than your own.

"Come away from the window, love," a low voice rumbled across the room like thunder.

Your body shuddered involuntarily at the noise, a hand gripping the window ledge to keep upright. Feet uncooperative as your mind, you attempted to reply, but found yourself unable to dislodge the words from your brain. You shook your head fiercely, but the cotton headed feeling wouldn't budge.

The man scoffed at your disobedience, removing his coat to wrap around your shoulders protectively. He clamped a large hand over your shoulder, guiding you toward the little table in the corner. As he handed over a flask, he instructed, "Sit down and have some of this. It'll steady your nerves."

Suddenly you heard yourself stutter, "I...d-d-don't drink."

"Alright, tea then," he conceded. "Where do you keep it?" He leaned over you, eyebrow raised in question until your finger pointed in the direction of a far cupboard.

As he turned away, his gun came into view and your heart began to hammer at your ribcage until you thought you might faint. Pressing your fingers to your temples, you closed your eyes and attempted deep breaths. Eventually you pushed them out in labored waves, though your body was quickly wracked by sobs.

"Hey, hey...there's no need for tears," you heard the deep voice begin to soothe as you felt a warm cup being pressed into your palms.

Looking up through watery eyes, you sniffed, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Taking a seat opposite you, the man's crystalline blue eyes locked onto yours intently as he introduced himself as Tommy Shelby. "You don't know who I am?"

"No," you admitted. "I've only just arrived this week."

Tommy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's what I thought. You'd never have taken that short cut if you'd known the sorts of bastards lurking."

A draft blowing through the crack in the windowsill crept across the back of your neck at that moment, triggering a phantom feeling of icy fingers upon your throat and you startled losing your grip on the china.

Tommy caught the cup before it landed on the floor, hissing as the hot liquid scalded his hands.

"I'm sorry, I felt his hands..." you mumbled, fingers tracing the delicate skin where the man from the alley had grabbed you.

"You've had a shock," Tommy stated, cleaning himself off with a rag. "But you needn't worry any longer. You're under my protection now." He stood with a determined nod, gathering his cap and placing it on his head.

For the first time that evening your shoulders relaxed and you breathed a sigh of relief. With a bit of effort, you banished the terrifying images of what you'd seen and tried to find good in the intimidating man before you. You even began convincing yourself it was fate that brought him to look after you in your new city.

However, as you stood to remove Mr. Shelby's coat, he casually announced, “You can bring it tomorrow when you see me about repaying your debt.” Then he proffered a business card.

You stared up at his chiseled face, partially covered in shadow. Unable to tell if he were serious. "I don't understand,” you admitted with a puzzled look.

Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, he pulled on a pair of black leather gloves. “So forgetful all of a sudden, aren't we," he scolded.

Your throat went dry, constricting painfully when you tried to swallow. "What do you mean?"

The leather cracked menacingly as he reached out to caress the apple of your cheek with the back of his hand. "I've killed for you. Who else can say that?" he reminded you in a voice far too flat and calm to offer affection.

Your eyes went wide as you searched his darkening pupils, panic shooting down your spine as you thought of what awaited you at the address printed on the card. The bit of paper shook violently in your hand as his thumb grazed your lips, leaving a powerful promise in his wake. "I've done something for you, now it's your turn."

When you bristled beneath his touch, he leaned toward your ear, a hiss escaping on his whisky scented breath. "I could return you to that alley if you like, but I think you'll find this arrangement far better." He turned without giving you a chance to protest. There was no need for once you owed a debt to Tommy Shelby, he owned you for life.

---------------

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#peaky blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby #dark!Tommy Shelby

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munson-blurbs · 2 months

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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie's rejection made you question your own hopes and dreams, but the consequences were even more dire for him. (3.6k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, homelessness, depiction of alcoholism, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter three: turn the lights back on

Eddie left during Dad’s shift on Friday. Over the years, there were more than a handful of guests who’d put up a fight when check out day arrived, but he wasn’t one of them.

When you’d inquired about his departure, as nonchalantly as you could, Dad only said that Eddie had signed the log and walked off without any formal goodbye.

“What time?”

“Six-thirty, or thereabouts. No later than seven.”

Almost as if he’d waited for you to clock out. Purposely avoiding you.

You shrugged off the thought, chastising yourself for taking a harmless coincidence so personally. Maybe he had to be somewhere early or wanted to beat the rush hour traffic. Maybe he didn’t even take your presence—or lack thereof—into consideration.

He did, however, swipe the blanket from his bed, leaving behind just the pillow and a rumpled sheet. Disappointment wove its way through your veins at its finality. He was simply another guest, another face stored in the depths of your memory with some many other one-timers.

Making a mental note to replace the blanket before the summer crowd arrived, you stripped the remaining sheet and pillowcase and made the bed with clean ones. The fabric was so worn that it was nearly transparent, barely concealing the litany of stains that decorated the old mattress.

Eddie didn’t appear to have added any to the collection. That was something, you supposed.

Your Friday and Saturday evenings were always spent the same way: watching groups of friends traipse up and down the boulevard, laughing at jokes that were only funny because everyone was on the right side of tipsy. Rain or shine, teenagers could always be counted on to frequent the local bars and liquor stores that didn't bother to check for identification.

Sundays brought the usual sense of existential dread; the week ahead was daunting and the week prior was a blur of exhaustion. A new guest checked in, an older woman who’d missed her flight out of LaGuardia and needed a place to stay until the next plane took off in the morning. You almost put her in room four, the key temptingly dangling from its hook, but you plucked the one for room three instead.

And then Monday arrived, baring its ugly teeth in a menacing grimace. It exhaled a rancid puff of morning breath, the same smell that belched from the bus’s tailpipe.

Backpack sagging low with the weight of overpriced textbooks, you dragged yourself towards the bus stop. Your only reprieve is that today marked the last week of classes. All that remained after that was finals week, and then you were done.

The typical small collection of commuters greeted you in traditional New York City fashion: tired half-smiles with a respectful lack of eye contact that you reflexively reciprocated. One of the older men sat on the bench, but the normally empty spot next to him was occupied by none other than Eddie Munson. He kept his guitar case safely clenched between his thighs, his garbage bag suitcase leaning against his left leg.

Curiosity nudged you and wormed its way into your thoughts. Where was he going? Was he staying at a different motel, one that had cable so he could watch MTV whenever he needed?

Or maybe he was en route to Port Authority so he could high-tail it back to not-New York, to his hometown where people considered it polite to strike up conversations with strangers.

Wherever his destination was, it was no longer your problem.

If he noticed you, he gave no indication. His vacant stare never left the ground, vaguely looking up one time to light a cigarette. He cupped a hand around the flame, blocking his view of you.

It was probably better that way.

The bus hissed as it pulled up to the stop and the doors hinged open to let passengers board. Would he sit next to you? Would he position himself as far away as possible? Or was he wholly indifferent, regarding the exchange as out of sight and out of mind?

Taking a seat towards the back, you searched for him in the sea of faces. You could apologize, explain you were only trying to help and never meant to embarrass him, and the two of you could part ways knowing that you didn’t look down on him.

But there was no sign of the frizzy curls that he wore like a crown, no guitar case inching into the aisle. For all intents and purposes, this bus was an Eddie Munson-free zone.

A disappointed ache settled in your chest and you massaged your sternum in hopes of alleviating it. When the driver turned the wheel away from the curb, you caught a glimpse of Eddie through the fingerprint-smudged window, sitting on the bench just as he had since you’d arrived.

Except this time, he was looking directly at you. It was intentional; he’d seen you waiting at the stop and waited until conversation was an impossibility before daring to glance your way.

He averted his gaze the moment your eyes locked onto his. It was so fast that you worried that you’d imagined it. A sleep-deprived hallucination, even.

You didn’t stop looking even as the bus left the stop. You watched him toss his cigarette butt to the ground and crush it with the sole of his sneaker. You watched him take another one and place it between his lips. You watched trembling fingers dig into his jacket pocket and take out the lighter once again.

He was out of sight before you could see a spark.

Excitement hummed through campus, a live wire that electrified even you. It was hard to ignore the end-of-semester buzz, especially with the sun warming the air in a soft spotlight.

Other students sat on the quad, blankets tucked underneath them as they ate lunch with friends. Their mouths moved in conversations about exam cramming and upcoming parties and post-graduation plans. You wanted to bottle their lightheartedness and carry it around with you, dipping into it when life got too serious and dabbing it on your pulse points like perfume.

Fluorescent bulbs replaced the natural light as you walked the hall towards the classroom. You slid into your usual spot and placed your bag on the adjacent chair to reserve it for Nora. Until she arrived, you’d be left alone with only your thoughts to keep you company.

Great.

The memory of the other night, of Eddie’s sullen expression and the way his lips hardened into a frown, was a stone in your stomach.

How could he think that you pitied him, looked down on him for his circumstances? Wasn’t it obvious from the motel’s disrepair that you weren’t exactly living in the lap of luxury either? And yet, he’d perceived your attempt at an alliance as some sort of enemy threat. You wanted to shake his shoulders and yell, “we’re on the same team!” but it would probably just bounce off of his MTV-obsessed brain without him ever processing it.

Eddie’s reaction wasn’t the only part of the confrontation that bothered you. No, what really drove you to the brink of insanity was that the confrontation bothered you at all.

How many guests were snippy or even downright mean to you over the years? How many had raised their voice over the most trivial matter? You had lost count of the number of times someone had spat the word ‘bitch’ in your direction because of low water pressure or a lightbulb that needed replacing.

And yet, this is the instance that grated at you, had you wondering if he’d looked away from you this afternoon out of disdain, guilt, embarrassment, or some combination of the three.

It shouldn’t have even mattered. So what if he hated you? He was out of the motel, which meant that his problems were no longer your concern.

The click of the door being wrenched open forced you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

“Last week of classes!” Nora trilled with a wide grin. She practically skipped to your side, slinging her backpack over the wooden chair back. “Then we have finals,” she contorted her face in disgust before resuming her excited disposition, “and then we graduate!”

She plopped down in her seat, adjusting her body to face you. “That reminds me; we should probably figure out where we’re going to meet before the ceremony, because I am not sitting through that alo—what?” She frowned when you flinched, the realization setting in. “Nonono, don’t tell me you’re not going.”

“Sorry,” you offered half-heartedly. The pen markings on your desk suddenly became incredibly interesting, and you rubbed your forefinger over them in a feeble attempt to end the conversation.

As usual, Nora refused to accept defeat. “Still haven’t told your parents?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, you’ve got two weeks.” She clapped you on the back a bit too harshly, her lips pinched with an edge of impatience. “Time to put on those big-girl panties.”

She meant well–she always did, doing everything in her power to encourage you to pursue the career you wanted. But she just didn’t understand the mounting pressure to be what your family needed, or how you were constantly towing the line between selfishness and dignity. One step in the wrong direction and you would either crush your parents’ dreams or your own. And while there had to be some gray area there, it was overshadowed by the polarizing categories.

“I’ll try.”

You won’t.

You spent the class forcing yourself to listen to the professor, jotting down notes every so often when you could remember to do so.

Paying attention to lectures, final papers and exams, the graduation ceremony–it all seemed asinine when you considered your failure to help people on the most basic level. Like with Eddie: as hard as you tried to emphasize the mutual benefits of him working at the motel, you’d still inadvertently offended him.

When were you going to learn to stop extending help to people who weren’t asking for any? In these situations, you tossed logic aside to make room for emotion. It had been that way since you first began to understand that answers to life’s problems were seldom clear-cut.

There was one day in particular, where rain fell in sheets and your only option was to play indoors. You were jumping rope in the lobby, excitedly counting along with each skip.

“Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty—”

The rope smacked against your ankles, but you were too distracted to feel the sting. Your eyes were glued to a man who was stumbling towards the front desk. He wobbled in his whiskey-drenched cloud, mumbling something incoherent under his breath before collapsing to the ground in sudden hysterical sobs.

“Everything okay, sir?” Dad asked. His inconspicuous hand motioned you towards your room, but you froze in place. It wasn’t fear so much as shock that a grown-up was having a temper tantrum.

The man didn’t answer; instead, he took a swig from the brown paper bag clutched in his hand. Amber liquid trickled out from between his lips as he cried, and he slowly pushed himself up and out the front door without acknowledging anyone else’s presence. Raindrops pelted down on his head and matted whatever hair was left on his head

“Why was he crying?” You’d asked Dad, the jump rope now all but forgotten. “And what was in the bag?”

Dad gave you a small smile and did his best to explain the adult situation to a child. Even now, you remembered him talking about how drinking alcohol can make people feel happy, sad, or angry. He omitted the fact that all three emotions could occur in the same person, in the same moment, but your eight-year-old mind wouldn’t have comprehended that anyway.

Ever inquisitive, you continued asking questions. “But if it makes him sad, why doesn’t he just stop?”

“It’s not that easy,” Dad said with a tight grimace.

You’d considered his response for a moment, eyes lighting up when you conjured up a brilliant idea. “What if we go in his room and throw out all of his alcohol!” You tugged on Dad’s hand, expecting him to reciprocate your enthusiasm, but he’d stayed where he was and shook his head.

“Afraid it doesn’t work that way, kiddo. He’s gotta want to stop drinking first.”

It hadn’t made sense to you then, and though you’d learned about the nuances of addiction as the years crept by, it didn’t do much to quell your frustration. Any solution being beyond your control was a piranha ripping into your ambitions with its razor-sharp teeth.

The Eddie situation gave you that same helpless feeling. If you could turn back the clock, you would have done something different. You weren’t sure exactly what would be different, but it would almost certainly be better than your spur-of-the-moment offer last Wednesday.

But since time travel was out of the question and Eddie was no longer one of your guests, both he and his problems were out of your hands.

If only your heart could accept that.

A reel of your shortcomings played in your mind on a continuous loop; it still gnawed at you as class was dismissed, the professor calling out a reminder about final paper submission while you and Nora walked out the door.

“Are you okay?” She frowned and put out a gentle hand to bring you to a stop.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

She wasn’t falling for that lame excuse, not when something heavier than sleep marred your face. “Seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Do you ever feel like you’ll never actually help anyone?”

The words came out in a rush before you could curtail them. Wincing, you allowed yourself a peek at your friend’s expression. Confusion knitted her brows together, but her arms stayed at her sides.

“What do you mean?” Her words were soft and careful, distinctly absent of judgment or condescension.

A monologue of response was lodged in your throat. It was a thought you held inside, silently rehearsed but never dared to speak aloud:

Are we really going to make a difference? Or enough of a difference that it even matters? Like when you see a homeless person and you give them some money, or buy them something to eat. And you feel good for a split second, because now that person isn’t going to be hungry for a little while, right? But then you pass by another homeless person. And another. And you realize that, to them, it doesn’t matter that you helped someone else. Because those other people are still hungry.

You said none of it, swallowing the words and replacing them with a, “never mind, I’m too in my own head today.”

Nora nodded, not wanting to push too hard, but you knew she was teeming with questions. She offered a small smile that told you the conversation wasn’t over, just paused temporarily.

A nod of your own sealed the compromise.

The rest of the afternoon played out without a hiccup. Lunch was your usual greasy sandwich from Niko with a side of his irritated banter, this time about the price of gas.

“You girls think it won’t affect you because you take the bus,” he warned, finger wagging between you and Nora, “but just watch them hike up the fare. It’s only a matter of time. Especially with those new card things you gotta use.”

His fears were unfounded, at least for the moment, and you and Nora each dropped $1.25 into the coin slot.

“About what you said earlier,” she started, finding space to wrap her hands on the pole, “we don’t have to talk about it—”

“Please.”

“–but I need to tell you one thing.” Her eyes held firmly onto yours. “If anyone’s gonna make a difference in this shitty world, it’s you.”

The compliment should have illuminated you from the inside out; instead, it was a firefly’s light, barely bright enough to cast a shadow with its pathetic flickering. You ached to believe her, but it was impossible to imagine that the same person who wouldn’t tell her parents a simple truth could also change the world.

“Thanks.” One word compounded with a forced smile, and the truce snapped back in place. Weighing potential conversation topics, you settled on the most neutral–the final paper for your class–and launched yourself into it with as much enthusiasm as you could summon for the remainder of the ride home.

There was no overt sign of Eddie when your bus pulled up to the stop. Not at first. The only indication of him was a familiar mint-colored blanket tightly wrapped around a lump laying across the bench.

It wasn’t until you stepped off of the bus and got closer that you could make out the curly brunette tendrils peeking out from the top, the blanket rising and falling with each breath he took. His face was hidden and his eyelids were screwed shut in fitful sleep, allowing you to hold onto the false hope that it wasn’t him, just someone with a similar build and hair texture. Even the frayed hems of his jeans and his scuffed sneakers sticking out from the other end of the blanket could have been a coincidence.

But there was no denying the truth once you caught a glimpse of the guitar case being hugged to his chest.

Just keep walking. Stop trying to fix things that you didn’t break. Things that didn’t ask to be fixed.

Your conscience trumped logic once again as two fingertips gently pressed against his blanket-wrapped shoulder.

“Eddie?”

His eyes flew open in an instant, revealing the delicate red lines that scarred the whites and meandered towards his brown irises. He clenched the guitar case even tighter as he jolted upright, protecting it like it was his child, and the sudden movement sent a handful of empty beef jerky wrappers floating to the ground.

Sunlight streamed through the glass panes, fragmented where it had been shattered by a rogue baseball or perhaps the crown of someone’s head, though you would have heard about it if it was the latter. It backlit him in an angelic glow, a halo comically contradicting his bitter expression.

“Fuckin’ shit–don’t scare me like that!”

The gentle, rhythmic inhales and exhales were long gone, replaced by a frantic fight-or-flight panting that flared out his nostrils. His hardened jawline softened a bit once he’d fully clawed himself out of his sleepy haze and realized that the person in front of him wasn’t a threat, just a nuisance.

“I told you; I don’t need your charity.” His lips set into a scowl and he laid back down on the bench, tugging the blanket back up to his chin.

That’s it. Conversation over. Go home.

“You certainly need my blanket, though.” Raising one eyebrow, you thumbed at the thin material to make your point.

Eddie only doubled down, sitting up once more to ball up the blanket and toss it in your direction. “Here ya go. It’s all yours.”

You caught it with one hand, the loose threads tickling your forearm.

“That’s not what I meant.” A hiss of air passed through your teeth. This was the perfect opportunity to leave him behind, to go somewhere you were needed and wanted. He had been making it abundantly clear that he’d rather live outside than spend another second with you.

And yet.

“I’m not just gonna let you sleep out here.” Tone thick with insistence, you mustered up all of your determination. The blanket was now tucked beneath your underarm and sopping up the pooling perspiration. “And it’s only a matter of time before you get mugged. With that thing,” you gesture to the instrument still in his grasp, “I’m surprised it hasn’t already happened. So you can either stay at the motel and re-wallpaper the lobby or you can kiss your precious guitar goodbye.”

Fire burned behind your eyes as you spoke, each word adding kindling. You couldn’t tell if you were doing this for his safety or your own pride, but both led to the same outcome.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just scraped his top teeth over the dead skin on his lower lip, drawing a speck of blood that went unnoticed. You stayed silent, too, the weight of his impending decision anchoring your tongue.

Finally he nodded, slowly at first, then faster as desperation seeped in, but he remained steadfast in his refusal to meet your eyes.

“Fine.” Eddie’s breath was shaky, teetering on the brink of tears, but none fell. “Just until I find a paying gig.”

He grabbed the neck of his guitar with one hand and pressed on his knee with the other. Fixing his posture, he stood tall in hopes that no one walking by would equate him with the pitiful mess who had been sleeping at a bus stop in a stolen blanket.

“Okay,” you agreed with a quiet breath, a cautious smile playing on your lips as the two of you walked back to the motel. You stayed two steps in front of him, leading the way.

He could turn heel and run. He could back out at any moment and you’d never see him again. But when you unlocked the door to room four–Eddie’s room–he was still behind you.

“I can take the blanket back,” he said, motioning to the bundle under your arm as he stepped over the threshold and into the room.

Like a phantom appendage, you’d forgotten it was there. “No. I’ll get you a fresh one.” You shook your head, finalizing the matter.

“Okay.”

No hesitation. No argument.

Maybe there was a chance you could actually help him. Maybe you didn’t ruin everything you touched.

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three-penguins-in-a-trench-coat · 4 days

Text

Oh to be an NPC in Stardew Valley! Their lives must be so interesting and unique, and yet, they have no clue of it themselves. It must be nice to be so clueless as to one's legacy.

Pelican Town was quiet, and peaceful for a long time. Tourism was beginning to bolster, and the town was growing. A young, aspiring writer took up residence in an old shack on the beach. A family moved in to the town, bringing laughter and joy. An artist fixed up an old cottage, ready to bring her creations to life. Other businesses begin to pop up as well; a doctors clinic, a blacksmith, a scientist exploring the valley. For a long time, life was good. The old residents and the new blood worked together to improve the town, and carefully grow their slice of paradice for others to enjoy.

Unfortunately, all good things must eventually come to an end. The Farmer, a good, kind man, eventually had to retire, and his spirit returned once more to Yoba. The local economy begun to waver, just a little. Lewis knew they'd be okay, but it would take time.

And then Joja Corp stepped in.

The first the townspeople heard of the development was the builders rocking up to begin construction. Lewis, who should have been informed of the plans, was outraged. Unfortunately, he was bullied out of filing any lawsuits by Joja's ferocious team of lawyers, hounding him into silence. Pierre looked on with worry as the Joja symbol was painted on the new billboard.

The new Jojamart did help to keep some of the struggling townspeople afloat, with it's cheap prices and large stock. Unfortunately, it had a chain effect that was felt by the whole town. Pierre was hit the hardest, having to lean in heavily on savings he had put together for retirement. In turn, Marnie's clientele hit rock bottom, as did Clint and Robin's. They had to rely on travelers and tourists to support themselves, of which there were less and less. Joja had turned the town's rustic feel into another slice of modern suburbia.

Lewis eventually couldn't affort to keep the bus going, and it fell into disrepair. No one visited. With the main highway carefully making it's way around the town, only the occasional visitor would stop in. Slowly, the town fell further and further into ruin. The once grand community centre lay wasted and abandoned, left to rot.

But while everyone was focused on the ruins and the past, no one saw the magic creep back in...

The old Farmer's grandchild was certainly a bit odd. New to the town, the villagers looked on in faint amusement as they sprinted their way around the town. Pierre, who was sadly preparing to sell the store, felt a faint sense of hope start to stir. Within weeks of their arrival, they had project after project lined up for Robin to begin, and she took to it with great vigour. Clint and Marnie, who's businesses had all but dried up, were suddenly back in swing. And once Gil and Marlon had shown them the mines, well, Harvey never ran out of patients. While the Farmer dealt with extradimensional entities and shook hands with the magic of old, everyone else was noticing the slight uplift. The old, rusted gears that ran the town had ever so slightly started turning once more. Morris sat behind his desk and happily assumed that Joja was there to stay, and magic was left for fairy tales.

As spring rolled into summer, little improvements continued. The annual luau was a bit more festive, and the pot luck just that bit sweeter. Everyone liked the Farmer, even the most jaded of residents had to admit that having them was a big help for the town. Pierre found himself with more stock than he knew what to do with, and had begun shipping it out the excess to the distant Zuzu city. Robin found herself almost constantly called out to the farm, as the Farmer was constantly asking for new barns and sheds. Linus was the first to notice the re-appearance of the magic. The green rain which the Farmer ran through happily, the little creatures hiding in the ruins of the community centre. The faint wails echoing from the mines. He quietly observed from a distance, but chose not to interfere. As distracted as he was from the local politics, even he could see the positive change that was occuring.

The Stardew Valley Fair brought new crowds with the recently fixed bus. Everyone knew who had fixed it up, but they had chosen not to come forward, so no one pressed the issue. With new tourists filtering through the town, it truly felt like the Pelican Town of Old. Welwick the Oracle glanced at the old Community Centre, ruined and abandoned, and then at the shiny Jojamart that stood nearby, and smiled to herself. She knew that someday soon the roles would be reversed. When Lewis checked the quarterly figures for the town, he nearly jumped out of his seat with excitement. For the first time in years, he was able to put back into the town savings, instead of skimming from the bottom as he had been.

It was a quiet winter's day when the Community Centre was restored. Lewis was going for his morning stroll, and something nagged at his brain, telling him to take a different route. As the grand building came into sight, he fell to his knees, and tried not to cry. Evelyn was next to notice, carefully making her way next to Lewis. She put a hand on his shoulder, and they simply looked on in wonder. "It's just how it used to be." Evelyn said.

Word spread through the town, and people came out to have a look. The inside was just as grand, with the reinstated town vault, plenty of areas for people to socialise and a proper office for Lewis to work at once more. Food was brought in, and they celebrated, harder than they had for a long time. More than one person had to dab their eyes from time to time, trying their best not to cry. The Farmer was the last person to arrive, and quietly watched the celebrations from a distance. A faint smile came over their face, and they seemed content.

It was a while before Morris found the community centre. He had only been out there once, to survey the land for the new warehouse he wanted built. The sight of the centre standing once more shook him to his core. In that instant, he knew that everything he had worked for was over. Despite his best efforts, the town had prevaled, and Joja had lost. Pierre officially saw to his execution, and he fled for Zuzu city in shame. The higher-ups in Joja Corp were not impressed, and Morris was never able to recover his position.

Life in Stardew Valley changed once more. The Community Centre brought everyone closer, made them feel like a real community. Lewis was able to fund more projects, clean up the town, make the festivals bigger. Willy's idea for the "Trout Derby" took off, and at the first annual event, more than a hundred avid fishers took off into the Cindersnap forest to hunt down the elusice Rainbow Trouts.

For Pam though, the biggest moment was when she came back from her shift at the bus station, and saw Robin setting up construction equipment where her caravan usually sat. At first, she was angry and afraid that she'd been moved, but when she heard what was happening, she openly wept and thanked Robin for her service. Pam knew that the house being built would ensure that Penny would have a stable future, with a place to come back to if she was ever in need.

Kent returned from his time as a prisoner of war, scarred and hurt. When he had left, the town was on it's last knees, and feared for it's future. To see the Community Centre standing once more filled him with a sense of joy he hadn't felt in a long time. Of course, that feeling was completely overrided by the ecstasy of seeing his wife and children happy and safe. It was a long time before he was able to open up about his experiences, but together they were able to heal and grow.

It was a warm, spring day, and Linus was foraging for salmonberries in the forest when a man appeared. He was dressed completely in black, with a broad brimmed hat and sunglasses to hide his face. Stars twinkled all over his clothing, as if you were looking directly at the night sky. Linus turned to look at him, and smiled. "Hello old friend. I was wondering when you'd show up next." The man in black smiled, and for a brief moment, you could see the blue skin beneath the hat. "I've been rather busy of late, but I thought I would just pop on in." No one else would see his firm grip on the valley, no one but the Farmer.

Sometimes, there were dreams. The townspeople would dream of screams and death. Creatures being slain where they stood, unable to stop the wrath of the monster. Children crying and running, reaching out for help, only for them to turn into doves and fly away, cooing cries of sadness. Some of the younger townsfolk would have vague memories of the farmer in a more intimate light. Perhaps a moonlit stroll, or a spring wedding, but then anger, and a sense of betrayal.

They would wake up in a cold sweat, trying desperately to remember what had made them chilled to the bones, but it always faded. Life in the valley is beautiful, but is it by their own volition or the hand that made it so?

#stardew valley #stardew #sdv #my writing #writeblr

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exhaslo · 24 days

Text

Corruption Ch14

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thirty Days until D-Day

The city was welcomed with a heavy rain storm that had no end in sight. Umbrellas were no match against the fierce winds and downpour that befell the city. The poor citizens who dared to walk got drenched. It was the beginning of an already dreadful day to many.

Aaron groaned and cussed as he scurried into Alchemax, water dripping from every angle. He sighed in relief as a few of the staff members set up automatic heaters and dryers for the employees. Sometimes there were perks for working for Alchemax.

The company cared more about reputation.

Once he was dry, Aaron made sure to clock in. There, he waited for certain people. Once said people arrived, they all casually walked with each other to the elevator. As they all stood in the elevator, each person handed something small to Aaron.

"Thank you all." He whispered upon leaving with another worker.

"This is risky. Do you even know how to do it?" His coworker asked. Aaron frowned as he spotted you grabbing a file from his boss,

"I'll need to work out the details, but I have an idea." He said before smiling towards you, "(Y/N)! How have you been? Feels like forever,"

"Ah, Aaron, yes it has! Have you been busy?" You asked. Aaron couldn't stop smiling,

"You could say so. A lot of newbies trying to play games on computers has us getting rid of viruses." He said with a chuckle and glanced at the file, "What about you?"

"End of month is tomorrow. Just grabbing all of the paperwork from each department so I can file them all. So...exciting." You said with a soft sigh, "Ah! Speaking of time, I have to grab Miguel's coffee!"

"Be careful, it's pouring outside."

Aaron waved towards you as you ran off in a hurry. You were still ever so kind despite Miguel's interference.

"Still going for the boss' girl? Everyone knows that Miguel probably uses her as a stress relief." Aaron's coworker scoffed, "Ain't no way he would let anyone get that close."

"C'mon. She's his assistant. Miguel's too cold hearted to-"

"Use (Y/N)? How many times did he butt in to your flirting? To you trying to ask her out?"

"Shut up, let's just get back to work. Miguel will have what's coming to him eventually."

---------

You were shivering as you cuddled against Miguel's chest. You were in your underwear, wrapping in a thick blanket as you sat on Miguel's lap in his office. Your clothes were drying in the corner, since Miguel demanded you come up to him in a hurry.

"I told you the coffee could wait," Miguel grumbled as you sneezed.

"Y-You're grumpy...w-without it,"

"At the cost of you getting sick? It can wait. I can always send someone else to get it." Miguel said with a scoff, his arm tightening around your waist, "And you didn't even dry off downstairs."

"Y-You told me to hurry! So I climbed the window," You said with a whine, "Can't...Can't I just wear my spare clothes? This is...embarrassing."

"I've seen you naked already." Miguel said unamused then glanced towards you, "Or did the oh so powerful Spider-Woman want to get sick? To have me care for her?"

"N-No," You said with a pout.

Miguel was so mean when he wanted to be. Watching him chuckle made your heart melt. He can be as mean as he wants, just as long as you get to see him enjoy himself. Cuddling back into his chest, you inhaled, enjoying his cologne.

---------

Miguel waited for you to fall asleep before pulling up his security footage of one of the labs. Miguel had a small team of scientists handling your blood injections towards test subjects. As much as Miguel wished to be there in person, he needed to keep distracting you from the city.

Besides, none of those scientists knew what they were giving to the new test subjects. None of them would live to even tell the tale of Miguel's success.

"Sir, now conducting test subject number eight." One of the scientists spoke to the camera.

Eight.

It took eight attempts so far. There was always something wrong with something. Miguel was getting frustrated, but he had to keep going. This was the only way he could get what he wanted. This was the only way to get his dream.

"Mhpm," You whimpered in your sleep.

Pulling up his calendar, Miguel checked on your ovulation. With a roll of his eyes, Miguel noticed that you were about to start your period. It was right about now that your cramps would start to kick in. As frustrating as it was, this was needed.

By your next ovulation, Miguel will be perfect.

He will finally be able to give you what you've been waiting for.

What he's been waiting for.

But, in the meantime, Miguel had work to do. Ordering some heat pads and chocolate, Miguel made sure to take care of you during your period. You were his perfect trophy. Miguel couldn't have you down in the dumps.

----------

Twenty Days Until D-Day

Yet again, the rain did not let up. According to the forecast, it was to rain like this for the rest of the week. You were debating on swinging to work, but with this rain...no. You didn't want to end up sick. Miguel would never let you go out again.

"Hm, I need to get to work." You whispered, looking at the time.

Rubbing your arms, you let out a whine as you tried to think. Normally, Miguel would give you a ride, but today he had to arrive to work earlier than normal. Apparently his father had some meetings he wanted Miguel to go too.

"Would Miguel mind if I stay home?"

"He would," Lyla appeared, "Miguel is already showing signs of extreme stress and frustration. Without you, I can conclude that by noon, he might kill someone."

"Oh, Lyla, you jest." You chuckled lowly before stopping, "Miguel won't kill anyone."

But you knew how Miguel got when he was angry. Miguel was never too fond of his own father, especially when dragged to these meetings. Honestly, it was cute. Miguel was like a spoiled child, not wanting to do work.

Leaving your apartment, you sighed as you still wondered how you were going to get to work without getting soaked. It was still Fall in Nueva York, but it felt like winter already to you. Oh, the downside of having Spider DNA.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Need a ride?" Aaron asked, stopping his cab. You gasped, hurrying over,

"Oh! Thank you, Aaron, you're a life savor!"

"Sure," Aaron smiled as he opened the door for you. You shivered slightly when entering, thanking him again, "It's really no problem. Luck even, guess I just happen to pass your place at the right time."

"You sure did."

You hummed happily as you texted Miguel, asking if he wanted his morning coffee. As you were waiting for his reply, you glanced over at Aaron,

"So, it's been...raining a lot. Might be a colder winter than normal."

"So we have to make sure your office is a furnace." He said with a chuckle, "Getting coffee for our dictator today?"

"Ah-" You felt your cheeks flush as you just checked your phone, "Guess not. He won't let me get it when it rains like this. Hehe, Miguel does have his little soft side," You chirped.

Aaron felt his eye twitch, "It's amazing how you can still see the best in him."

"It could be because I'm his assistant?" You tried to dodge the question since no one knew about your relationship with Miguel, "Um, I think everyone just needs to give Miguel a chance. I'm sure-"

"I rather not. If he makes me his errand boy anymore, I might quit." Aaron huffed then glanced at you, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt or be sour. We've....just been up to our necks with work."

"It's okay,"

You lowered your head, remaining silent for the rest of the ride. It was hard to express your vision of Miguel to others. Once you arrived, you thanked Aaron again for the lift and hurried inside.

--------

Aaron paid the fair and slowly made his way inside. He watched you from a distance, paying attention to your watch as Lyla appeared. Miguel was always listening to you. He always paid attention to who you were with.

A controlling bastard.

Aaron just smiled as he went to clock in, hoping that Miguel will play the petty game. The only problem about this game Aaron was playing was you getting caught in the fire. Aaron was going to have to make sure you were nowhere near Miguel when he acts.

--------

You stood in front of Miguel's large office window, staring down at the city below. Miguel was still in his meetings, sending you a text here and there about stupid little things. It made you chuckle at some of the nitpicking he was doing.

"Hehe, ew. Miguel must really be bored if he is paying attention to the food stuck in someone's teeth," You giggle.

Glancing at his seat, you bit your lower lip. Miguel was going to be a while until he returned. Stroking your fingers against the arm rest, you let out a soft sigh as you took your seat on his desk. Miguel will be waiting for you.

You had to be a good girl and take your spot.

"Don't keep me waiting too long, Miggy~"

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd @daddyfroglegs @shoukanjo

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader

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animehideout · 4 months

Text

JJK Men Perfect First Date

Part 2

Check out part 1 here ✨

a/n: Part 3 will include Aoi Todo / Yuta Okkotsu / Mahito / Ino Takuma 💛

@itz-amani what do you think about Sukuna's first date 🫶🏻??

Divider credit: @cafekitsune 🧡

Itadori Yuuji: Cinema date

Yuuji loves movies, especially horror ones and that would be a reason for both of you to cling onto each other, in case you get scared easily.

But since it's your first date, Yuuji would let you suggest and choose what you'll be watching.

You'd share a large bucket of sweet popcorn and grab your favorite candies. Your hands would touch while grabbing the popcorn, making both of you blush.

Yuuji would definitely sneak extra snacks in case you got hungry during the movie.

You'd settle into your comfy seats and you won't pull up the armrest, fully enjoying the closeness of your bodies.

The atmosphere is so light and full of joy, Itadori is a ball of sunshine, he'd make you laugh a lot by cracking jokes.

During the movie, you'd repeatedly steal glances at each other, sharing smiles and subtle touches.

If there's a romantic scene both of you would feel extremely shy, turning into tomatoes.

You'd be the last ones to leave, you'd stay a bit longer, excitedly discussing your favorite scenes and plot twists.

Shared laugher would continue even after leaving the cinema, he would ask you on a second date for sure.

Would definitely walk you home, and offer you his jacket if the weather got chilly.

Would give you a big hug or a kiss on the cheek as a ' thank you ' , anticipating your shared future adventures.

“That was a great movie, but being here with you made it absolutely perfect”

Ryomen Sukuna: Late night drive

Your first date would be full of adrenaline.

Sukuna would arrive in a sleek sports car to pick you up, the roaring engine hinting at the adventure ahead.

Would open the door for you, to leave a good first impression.

His hand shamelessly would rest on your thigh the whole drive sending shivers down your spine.

The playlist basically consists of The Weeknd songs as they sync with the pulse of the night.

Once you hit the open road, the empty streets are inviting for a burst of speed.

The route includes sharp turns and twists adding to the excitement, your heart would be beating out of your chest but you completely trust that Sukuna would get you to your destination in one piece.

The city lights became blurry from how fast Sukuna was driving, landscapes became a dynamic backdrop as if you were traveling to another dimension.

Eventually Sukuna's, found a quiet spot to let the adrenaline settle.

You'd get out of the car to watch the breathtaking city light from the top of a hill, letting the cold night breeze bring you back to reality.

His arm would wrap around you pulling you closer to his chest to transfer his body heat to yours.

If you get extremely cold, you'd get back inside his car and chill there.

Would definitely make out with you in his car while After Hours- The Weeknd♪ is playing in the background.

“The thrill of the speed is matched only by the thrill of being here with you. It's like the universe conspired for us to have this moment”

Megumi Fushiguro: Library date

As you greet each other, Megumi would give you a single red rose, it would make your heart flutter and add a touch of romance. Who said Megumi can't be romantic?

You'd go to an aesthetic library, first you'd start your date by exploring the aisles together, checking the different genres of book that are filling the shelves.

The hushed atmosphere and the sound of pages turning soothed both of you.

Both of you would recommend different genres depending on your tastes.

After grabbing the books that you'll be reading, you'd find a cosy corner with cushions.

You'd sit there next to a big window, reading and watching as the droplets of rain fell on the glass.

You'd share occasional glances, blushing when you make eye contact, smiling softly.

You'd read your favorite lines to each other, and discuss the hidden meanings behind sentences.

There are silent moments where words aren't needed, just a comfortable silence shared between both of you, happily humming.

Megumi would walk you home, and promise you for a second date to visit another library with a different aesthetic, he would give you a warm hug.

You'd forever keep that rose that Megumi gave you, you'd use it as a bookmark.

Choso Kamo: Cooking together

Nothing is better than staying at home on rainy day, while enjoying home made food, especially with the man you love. ( pretend you and Choso live in the same building so he won't be soaked with rain)

You and Choso would plan a romantic menu for the night and brainstorm what recipes you'd try to cook.

The kitchen became a shared a space of creativity, fresh ingredients spread on the counter.

Before diving into the cooking, you would choose the perfect playlist.

The kitchen fills with your favorite tunes, and your giggles.

If he manages to pluck up the courage he would wrap his arms around you, engulfing you in a warm back hug.

You would take turns while cooking, chopping, stirring and tasting, you would use the same spoon to taste food making you kiss indirectly.

Once you feel comfortable enough, you'd share a lot of backhugs and include a lot of soft sweet touching.

Once your food is ready, you'd decorate the plate with it, taking it to the living room so both of you can eat while watching your comfort shows.

You'd settle on the comfy sofa, covering yourself with a warm blanket as the food is presented infront of you on the table.

He'd tuck strands of your hair behind your ear while you eat.

You'd feed each other, exchanging comforting smiles.

You'd conclude the night with a sweet dessert that Choso made.

He'd end up staying over, both of you cuddling in each other's arm slowly drifting off to sleep, peacefully sleeping in each other's embraces while rain is pouring outside.

“The warmth is this kitchen, mirrors the warmth in my heart when I'm with you”

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penny-anna · 4 months

Text

trying to leave my aunt & uncle's house this morning

wake up & realise that i forgot to tell anyone that i'm technically booked onto the 11am train. it is already almost 10. this isn't a huge problem as i have an open return so can get any train w/e

'i forgot to tell you i booked the 11am' 'oh that's not happening' 'yeah ik'

go to check on the app when the next train is. see that the 11am is cancelled due to weather conditions

oh no.jpg

tell my aunt

'oh no' yeah.

sit on her sofa for the next half an hour or so and watch the 11:30, 12 and 12:30 trains all get cancelled

my cousin (11): you could just stay 2 more hours

yeah the trains. probably aren't gonna be running in 2 hours sorry.

maybe they will drive me home?? (it's like 1 hour)

'are the buses running' *checks* yeah :(

go to bus stop. it's raining.

see a bus go by in the other direction. 'are you sure you checked the right bus timetable' *double checks* yeah we're good

stand around for 5-6 minutes anxiously trying to figure out if the buses are actually running or have been cancelled

the bus website is saying the next bus isn't coming through till 2pm but is saying that there will be a bus at the other stop in the village in 5 minutes so mixed signals!!

bus arrives

realise i'm so used to edinburgh buses (flat fare) that i forget i have to like talk to the bus driver and tell him where i'm going

take ages to figure out how to pay

bus driver waits for me to sit down before driving off. this makes sense given that i have bags and am the only person boarding but im used to the city so im just screaming internally at holding everyone up

bus is so so busy

windows are very foggy so hard to tell what's going on but fortunately i'm going all the way

at one point we start reversing and i'm like ???? before remembering ohh lol yeah this is the part of the Edinburgh-Galashiels bus route where the bus goes backwards for a bit i remember now

anyway i got home eventually

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enigmatist17 · 5 months

Text

Catch me thinking about Commander Fox meeting Senator Chuchi for the first time.

She's new to Coruscant, so trying to find her way around the Senate building is a bit of a loss. Somehow she stumbles to the Guard barracks, and after some flustered explanations, Fox offers to escort her to the right area. While she's seen clones before, it had been very limited, so she's not sure what to do save some awkward small talk. The commander isn't sure what to do with a natborn treating him more than the furniture they walk past, and answers her questions hesitantly until they've arrived.

"Thank you Commander, I'll bring by something as thanks."

"Oh, it's nothing Senator, just doing my job."

She does come by a week later, bringing a bunch of treats that she made for the men. They're all pleasantly surprised, and Fox is coaxed from his office to accept them and is surprised she actually came back.

One visit turns to two, then three, and then it weekly visits with all of the Guard rotating shifts so everyone gets a chance to see her and her kind entourage. She always ends these visits with a walk around the Senate building with the Commander, the two slowly easing into more and more conversation the longer she visits. For all the whispers Chuchi had heard of Fox, he was quite the opposite in almost every way, from the way he chuckles to her jokes, to how he lets the senator drag him into the city for sight-seeing, despite his obvious discomfort.

The natborns were never this kind, never this excited to have a clone escorting them, never showing them such wonderful things like spice and fabrics and buying them for men created to serve. But here she was, always smiling and so polite and tentative to his needs that it leaves Fox reeling, trailing like a lost pup towards a bright star that radiates so many lovely feelings Fox was sure he'd never know.

It hits him one night that Chuchi isn't just a natborn to him anymore, that she's the Guard's senator, that she's Riyo to himself.

Oh kriff

Riyo Chuchi has already come to this thought a long time ago, and can't help but laugh to herself at how awkward Fox seems to be the next time she drops by. The other's under his command catch how awkward he seems to be all of a sudden, and smiles when there are nudges and whispers as they go to take their normal walk. It's a rainy day, so they find a small spot somewhere to watch the city move on through the weather, and they sit in silence for a few minutes before she places one of her hands on his knee. The subtle tilt of his helmet would go unnoticed to most, but Riyo has picked up his tells enough to smile, and the two just gaze at each other before Fox places a gloved hand over hers.

"I was hoping you'd notice eventually, Commander." Her smile is a tease, and she can hear the faint scoff and just about see his eyes rolling. "After all, you supposedly have eyes everywhere."

"Not when it comes to you lot." Some would think he was insulting Riyo, but she only gives a soft laugh and shuffle a little bit closer, giving the soldier plenty of space.

"If you say so."

The hand over hers tightens a fraction of an inch, and the helmet tips back up to watch the rain drenching everyone in the city.

"I do say so."

#personal #star wars #clone wars #commander fox #riyo chuchi #coruscant guard #fox x riyo #foxiyo

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awlumii · 2 years

Text

rain check.

# — pairing: (spidey!)kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha

# — warnings: n/a

# — summary: "i'm late, i'm late! for a very important date! no time to say 'hello, goodbye,' i'm late, i'm late, i'm late!" — white rabbit, alice in wonderland

# — tags: spidey!kazuha au, fluff, brief angst, making up, getting together, there's kisses involved, reader's also a simp (lol)

# — notes: [stands awkwardly in the corner] heyy... i tried my hand at the au again... as always, reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i really hope you enjoy this!

wanna join the tag list?

✧ — 🍁 + 🕷 — ✧

the meeting time was 7:30 pm originally.

7:45 pm. the waitstaff asked you if you wanted to order anything. you politely declined and informed them that you'd order when your date arrived.

8:15 pm. you texted kazuha and got no response. you eventually grew impatient and reluctantly ordered food for yourself. your face burned at the looks of pity you received from the employees.

8:45 pm. you still didn't get a response from kazuha. you tried not to text him too frequently in fear of sounding clingy or belligerent, but after an hour or so of radio silence, you couldn't help but triple (or even quadruple) text him.

9:00 pm. you check your phone. still no response from kazuha.

9:15 pm. you figured that dessert wouldn't hurt, but it was hard to stomach what with the waitstaff watching you from afar. if you strained your ears, you could hear them whispering something about a customer being stood up and having to eat alone.

9:30 pm. you didn't eat the dessert.

9:45 pm. you asked for the check. they refused to give you one. they gave you their pity instead.

10:00 pm. you left.

10:05 pm. five minutes after you started walking home, there was a blinding flash of lightning. that was the only warning you received before the skies opened up.

the frigid rain seeps through your clothes and chills you to the bone. surprisingly, it's not as unpleasant as it sounds; you were starting to feel a little numb, anyway. quiet splashes echo from the sidewalk as you drag yourself home. people pass you by one after the other, each with umbrellas, but you pay them no mind. you continue on your way.

maybe you're being dramatic, but you feel like shit right now.

when kazuha first suggested going to such a nice restaurant, you were a little hesitant to agree. never mind your preferences — kazuha isn't one for lavish affairs. he's told you as much before. even if the place wasn't super pricey, the ambience seemed to be a bit too much for his tastes. it took some coaxing on his part — he said he wanted to ask you something important, which only served to make your stomach twist into knots — but in the end, he finally got you to say yes. (truthfully, you folded as soon as he took your hands in his — you really need to learn to say no to him.)

it wasn't until you were getting ready to leave that you realized that this was going to be your tenth date with kazuha. is that why he was so insistent on going somewhere nice? you thought it adorable that he seemed to be keeping track of the number of dates the two of you have been on. it made you excited to see him — so excited in fact, that you showed up fifteen minutes early.

and yet in spite of this whole thing being his idea, kazuha never showed up, leaving you to make a fool of yourself in one of the nicest restaurants in the city.

"knew i should've stayed home," you grumble as you trudge through the downpour. you're totally lying to yourself; you had no intention of saying no to him. kazuha could suggest anything and you know you'd agree at the drop of a hat. but as they say, hindsight is 20/20; you should have dug your heels in and said no and suggested something else — maybe something that didn't involve you looking like a fucking moron at a restaurant.

your vision blurs suddenly, forcing you to come to a halt. you think it's because of the torrential rain, but the heat radiating off of your cheeks tells you otherwise. you wipe your eyes free of water — a futile effort — and chuckle humorlessly to yourself. why are you doing this? it's not like anybody's going to notice, right? you sniffle; that can easily be because you're cold and wet.

you sob. you tell yourself it's just a cough.

stop being so dramatic. keep walking.

the second you turn onto a narrow street, you hear a familiar thwip-! coming from overhead. you barely have time to acknowledge that spider-man is swinging around before he's landing right in front of you, blocking your path. you brush rainwater (and tears) out of your eyes to see him better. "you're, uh, kinda in my way, spider-man," you call out over the downpour. "could you move so i can go home?"

"what're you doing out here without an umbrella?" spider-man asks. he doesn't move like you asked; he just steps closer. and if you strain your ears a little, you think he sounds really worried. maybe you're just hearing things. "you're drenched! you're going to get sick at this rate."

for some reason, his concern makes you want to laugh. you crack a smile, though there's very little joy to be found in it. "i'm just taking a nightly stroll." you lie. "and don't worry, i won't get sick. i'm the nurse here, remember? now could you move, please?"

you step around him and start to walk past, but he grabs your arm, stopping you. why is he being like this? what is it with the men in your life tonight? "i... can't be too sure that you'll go straight home." he lets you go and holds out his hands for you to take. "at the very least, allow me to take you."

you make a face. "shouldn't you be saving someone somewhere?"

"i'm offering to take you somewhere, aren't i?" he asks. it sounds more like a retort to you. "and aren't you someone?"

"uh-huh. and what are you saving me from, exactly?"

"if we move fast enough, probably a really bad head cold." spider-man shakes his hand, silently urging you to take it. "come on. i can't have my doctor getting sick, can i?"

you sigh. you don't have it in you to turn down his offer. you never do, now that you're thinking about it. you should really do some self-evaluation. besides, the rain is fucking freezing — it felt nice a few minutes ago, but you can feel yourself starting to shiver and shake. that cold may just catch you regardless of how quickly you get home. "fine," you say and take his hand.

spider-man pulls you in by your hand and wraps an arm around your waist. instinctively, you cling to him as tightly as you can. he's as warm as ever, you note, even in the freezing rain. at this distance, you hear him chuckle: "at least you know to hold on tight." you get no other warning before he's zipping through the air with you in tow. you shriek at the sudden movement, but spider-man only laughs. "you're alright," he reassures you over the wind.

in no time at all, you're being rested on your balcony. you slide open the door and stumble into your apartment on wobbly knees, ignoring spider-man's amused laughter. "you're like a baby deer every time," he giggles. "are you not used to it yet?"

"stop making it sound like i'm the weird one here." you grumble as you lower yourself into a chair. your body feels too stiff and heavy to move. you're still drenched, but all you can do right now is shiver in your seat. meanwhile, spider-man isn't making any moves to leave. he's just watching you — or at least, you think he is. "what're you s-standing there for?" you stutter. you're cold. "what's the matter?"

spider-man puts his hand on the back of his neck and rubs it awkwardly. are you missing something right now? why is he suddenly acting like this? "are you... going to tell me why you were walking in the rain?" he holds the back of his neck, his eyes seemingly still on you. "i refuse to believe that you were taking a 'nightly stroll'." he uses air quotes to repeat your earlier words.

you laugh shakily. "are you interrogating me, spider-man?"

for once, he doesn't laugh with you. "i... just want to know. i'll leave you alone as soon as you tell me; you need to go and warm up."

you open your mouth to explain, but as you look back on the whole incident, you once again feel embarrassment take you by the shoulders. why were you really walking home in the rain? you could've ducked into a store and called a cab or taken public transportation -- what possessed you to do something so childish? your skin, though clammy, heats up as you avert your eyes.

you press your palm against your lips, muffling your voice. "i was, uh... stood up."

"...really now?"

you grimace and nod. "it was, um... supposed to be our tenth date, actually." you recall the blush that coated kazuha's cheeks when he asked you out the other day, and you start to feel the beginnings of a smile on your face. he's so cute — you'd give anything to see him right now.

because as upset as you may have been earlier, you realize that deep down, you just really want to be with kazuha. you're pissed that he still hasn't contacted you yet, but you have faith that he will; this kind of discourtesy isn't like him.

spider-man doesn't know that, though. he makes a noise of disapproval. "pardon my harsh language, songbird," he comments, "but he sounds like an asshole."

you gasp, scandalized. you've never heard him swear before. it sounds so wrong coming from him — was he really that upset about you being stood up? why did that thought make your heart skip a beat? "don't say something like that!" you open your mouth to continue chastising him, but instead you sneeze, hard. you groan and rise to your feet. if you don't move now, you really will catch that cold. "say something bad about my boyfriend again, and i'll fight your face off." you call over your shoulder as you head to your bathroom.

"your boyfriend?" spider-man's words give you pause. you whirl around to glare at him, ready to retort and defend yourself, but he puts his hands up in mock surrender. "you said it, not me. but i must say," he lays his hand over his chest, "i'm wounded, songbird. and here i thought i stood a chance."

you freeze. he thought what?! your mind starts to race immediately, but you reel yourself in quickly. your feelings for spider-man are supposed to be a thing of the past. they were childish and impractical — kazuha is the better choice in every way possible. remember that, you tell yourself.

you flip him off with a sigh. "get out, webhead. i'm going to warm up."

spider-man shrugs, the perfect picture of nonchalance. if only he knew the things he did to your head. "alright, alright." he heads back to your balcony. "take care of yourself, okay?" he calls out to you.

"whatever!" you call back.

with a laugh, he leaps off of your balcony and swings into the stormy night, leaving you dripping in your hallway. you shake your head and start towards your bathroom.

once you've taken a hot shower and put on some warm, dry clothes, you drop yourself onto your couch and turn your tv on. you're not really watching anything, but the background noise is nice. you lay yourself down and roll onto your back.

so the date was a bust. you sigh heavily. that restaurant was so, so nice, too. the atmosphere was perfect — you're pretty sure that if kazuha had asked you to be his partner there, you might have cried. that, or you would have passed out; either one seems likely. you pause for a second. is that what he was going to ask you? oh, you definitely would've cried.

are you really upset about being stood up? you gave it some thought while you were in the shower and decided that no, you're not all that upset. at least, not with kazuha. embarrassed, yes — you can never show your face at that restaurant again — but not upset. kazuha's track record speaks for itself; you can always re-schedule the date.

again, you sigh. you're much too nice to him. simp.

you're about to change the channel on the tv when you hear a frantic knocking on your front door. you jump, startled by the sudden noise. hesitant, you make your way to the door. "uh, who is it?" you call out.

the voice from behind the door makes your stomach flip. "it's kazuha. can i see you? please?"

kazuha? he came here?

you look through your peephole and sure enough, kazuha is standing in front of your door looking very winded, very distressed, and very drenched. without thinking twice, you fling your door open and tug him inside. "what were you thinking, coming here in this weather without an umbrella?!" you hiss at him as you take in his rain soaked state. under any other circumstances, you'd be gentler with him — normally you would never be so snappy with him — but all that's on your mind as you dart over to your linen closet is how sick he's going to be because of this.

kazuha's eyes widen at your tone. "i had to come and see you," he tries to explain. "i--"

you don't let him finish. you drop a soft towel over his head and start rubbing him dry, ignoring the startled noise he makes. "you're still catching your breath, too. christ, did you run here or something?"

you move the towel so that you can see kazuha's face. he looks so apologetic and honestly, really cute with his face peeking out from under the towel. "if i said yes, would you be upset with me?"

"what the-- yes!" you head back over to your linen closet and grab a bigger towel before marching into your room to rifle through your stuff. you can't believe he risked a catching a cold like this! and for what? just to see you? you stop for a moment and recognize just how romantic his gesture is supposed to be. his sprinting all the way to your apartment (and judging by the way his chest was heaving, up the stairs, too) in the freezing rain makes your heart stutter — to think he would go this far just to see you... you shake your head. you can be flattered after he's dry. you hear a quiet sneeze from outside your room and quickly head back out to see kazuha rubbing at his nose.

you shove the clothes you found into his arms along with the towel. "go and take a shower and put these on." you shake your head when he starts to talk back. "nope, i don't want to hear it. when you're done, leave your clothes in the sink and i'll wash and dry them."

"this is--"

"kazuha." your tone is flat and leaves no room for argument. you raise a brow at him and he stares at you for just a second longer before doing as you said. once the bathroom door is closed, you drop yourself back on your couch and bury your face in your hands.

you thought that you weren't upset, but now that he's actually here, you're not quite sure what it is you're feeling. are you pissed because he risked his health to see you? or do you want to punch him for standing you up tonight? well, you think to yourself, he wouldn't have run in the rain if he didn't feel bad about the whole date situation. you look at the bathroom door with a tiny smile. he can be such a charmer when he wants to be — an impulsive one, but a charmer nonetheless. you decide that you're definitely just upset at him for being so stupid.

time passes and eventually kazuha emerges from your bathroom in the large hoodie and sweatpants you forced upon him. he looks adorable in your clothes. you tell him to make himself comfortable before tossing his clothes in the laundry. when you come back, you seat yourself beside him. he seems to be making himself small — either that or he's just drowning in the clothes you gave him. "am i allowed to speak now?" he asks quietly.

you snort. "yes, kazuha, you can speak now."

"i'm really sorry." kazuha's eyes are on you, and you can see the remorse swimming in them. he looks like he's gauging your reaction for permission to continue. when you say nothing, he goes on: "i swear to you, i was on my way there when something suddenly came up," he continues. "it was urgent and demanded all of my attention. i must have gotten so absorbed that i'd forgotten to contact you. by the time everything had finished, it was incredibly late and i figured that you must've gone home, so i..." he trails off.

you tilt your head. "so you ran here?"

kazuha nods. "i... didn't realize doing so would upset you so much. so please, allow me to apologize for that as well. i know my excuse may sound generic and unsatisfying, but you have to believe me when i say that i'm telling the truth.

well, there it is. there's your apology. you press your lips together to fight off a smile. "i believe you just fine," you say. "and i forgive you."

he blinks in disbelief. "are... you sure? aren't you upset with me?"

"do you want me to be?"

"you should be." kazuha winces. this is seriously eating at him; his brows are drawn and his jaw is clenched, showing in no uncertain terms that at least one of you is upset. upset may not even be the right word. he's starting to look pained, if not anything else. why is he being like this? for the second time tonight, you feel like you're missing something here.

you reach over and gently tap your fingers against his own in a silent request to take his hand. he visibly stalls before tentatively wrapping his pinky around yours. "i really do forgive you, you know." you murmur. "life happens, and sometimes plans don't work out. that's just the way things are."

kazuha sighs, unconvinced by your kindness. "the whole date was my idea." he takes his hand away from yours. "at the very least, i should have contacted you." he looks away from you. "and i know that... that this won't be the last time something like this happens. i don't want to keep disappointing you like this."

there's a hidden weight to his words that you pick up on. it's apparent that he's not telling you something, but it's not like you can just pry it out of him. he's barely listening to you as it is. you find yourself stuck between being flattered that he cares so much and worried that he'll truly never forgive himself for this. what can you do to convince him that you're not mad?

kazuha's shoulders tense and you can see color faintly rising to his cheeks. "and i was going to ask you..." he pauses for a second to look at you. "...something important, but i'm worried that i shouldn't. that i don't deserve to."

...you knew it. you fucking knew it! you see the way he's looking at you — he was totally going to ask you to be his partner. the problem now though, is that he's probably not going to. he's kicking himself while he's down, ruining your relationship before you even had a chance to form one.

it's not hard to see things his way. he's worried that he can't guarantee that he'll be able to confidently make time for you without interruption. it's a legitimate concern — who doesn't worry about this kind of thing? what he needs to hear now is not that everything's okay, but rather that it will be; that you're content with any mistakes he may make; that you're more than willing to take him as he is, urgent issues and all.

again, you knock your fingers on his. this time, you hook two of your fingers on his. "ask me." you tell him.

kazuha frowns slightly. "i don't..."

"do you still want to ask?"

"of course." he pauses to squints at you. "you already know what it is i'm going to ask you, don't you?"

you bite back a grin. "maybe i do, maybe i don't. ask me anyways."

a smile ghosts across his face as his cheeks redden just a little bit more. "i was going to ask if you wanted to... make our relationship official." he looks down at your joined fingers before looking back at you. "and it would mean the world to me if you said—"

"yes."

kazuha takes your hand fully. "i had a feeling you would say that." it's evident in the way he visibly softens and in the way he sighs that he's pleased with your answer (although 'pleased' is far too light a word to describe the pure, raw happiness that overtook his face). maybe you're going crazy, but you think that something akin to love flashes in his eyes. it overwhelms you. he takes your hand fully in his and you feel your own face start to warm just from looking at him.

"i was always going to say yes," you say when you manage to find your voice. "i want to be with you, kazuha."

his expression dims. did you say something wrong? "i want to be with you too," he says as he brings your hand up to cup his face. "but as i said, i may be a disappointment to you. i don't want to hurt you in any way, even if it's by accident."

you brush your thumb over his skin. it's warm to the touch. "you won't hurt me," you say softly. "and a little disappointment won't be the end of the world."

kazuha regards you closely. he looks like he's trying to be at peace with your hand on his face, but the draw in his brows gives away his internal conflict. for a second, you wonder if you're coming off too strong. you like kazuha a lot (it's probably too soon to say the big L word, but it surely doesn't scare you), but you're always afraid that you're either giving too much of yourself, or not enough. your insistence on dating him may be more repulsive than attractive.

"i like you," he suddenly murmurs, "so much."

your chest feels tight and you feel breathless. why did he suddenly say that? "i like you, too," you reply.

kazuha leans in and presses his forehead against yours. you hold your breath as his eyes slip shut. he seems so at peace at this distance, unlike you, who's trying to swallow back your heart that suddenly leaped into your throat. "i'd like to be yours," he says in the space between. "if you'll have me, that is."

you feel so dizzy, so drunk on your giddy emotions. this isn't how you saw tonight playing out at all, but you're not going to complain. "of course," you breathe your response. your voice trembles just a little, giving away your nervousness. "you're all i want."

at that, kazuha kisses you. it's slow and sweet, and also — if memory serves you right — the fifth time he's kissed you. if life were a cartoon, you would probably flushed bright red, lovestruck and dumb; a fool for the man before you. it takes you a second to kiss him back — he pulls away for just a moment but you capture his lips again and drink in the content sigh he rewards you with. this is different from the kisses you've shared before. the others were reserved and almost timid, hesitant kisses shared at the beginning of a new relationship. this kiss becomes intoxicating and gratifying — one you find yourself quickly getting addicted to.

believe it or not though, it's you who pulls away first, your heart stuttering in your chest. you don't go very far, but you turn your head away to try and retain some of your sanity. it's obvious that what you said had quite the effect on kazuha; his fingers come to your jaw and move you gently so that you're facing him again, but he doesn't close the gap. there's another silence before he kisses you once, then twice, before he pulls away and sighs. "if there's anything that i can do to make up for tonight," he says, "tell me. i'll do anything."

there's only one thing you can think of saying. "stay with me tonight." the words come out easily — maybe a little too easily. you fluster and your face heats up considerably as you start to ramble. "i-i mean, um... it's gonna be pouring all night and you clearly don't have an umbrella so i mean, i think you should stay. if you want to, then of course you can stay, but you can say no — i just don't want you to catch a cold, y'know..."

kazuha says nothing; he watches you with thinly veiled amusement in his eyes. "would me staying the night make you happy?"

you groan quietly. "stop enjoying this. you know the answer already."

"i do, i do. you're just really cute when you're embarrassed."

"you know what? forget it. i'm gonna go check on your clothes." you stand abruptly to escape your discomfort, but kazuha takes your hand in his, stopping you with a laugh.

"i'm sorry, dove, i'm sorry." he chuckles as he speaks. he stands and pulls you in by your waist. "i'll stay the night. does that sound good?"

you rest your hands on his shoulders poised to push him away, but think against it. your heart is hammering in your chest. it's hard to be mad at him when he's smiling like that, even if it's at your expense. asking him to stay was a spur of the moment decision, but when you look at him like this, up close, you know that you would've had a hard time letting him go. so... "yeah," you mutter. "sounds good. now will you please let me go and check on your clothes?"

he hums and leans in. his voice is barely above a murmur when he speaks. "one more thing." and for (what you think is) the eighth time since you've started seeing each other, kazuha kisses you, sending pleasure rocketing through your system. it drags on despite you trying to pull away, what with kazuha chasing after your lips with a mischievous smile the entire time.

eventually, you get fed up and hold his face. "knock it off, you." you say once you successfully pull away. "i have things to do."

kazuha, who looks far brighter than he was earlier, lets you go and raises his hands in mock surrender. "alright, alright. go on. i'll be here; i promise."

you open your mouth to say something snide, but quickly shut it. you're floored by just how happy he makes you, even if he can be annoying from time to time. perhaps it's because you're technically in the honeymoon phase, but you know for a fact that his smile is one you'd do anything to protect. becoming his partner is a decision you know you'll never, ever regret, and you're sure of that.

you turn on your heel and start towards the laundry room. "don't miss me too much!" you call over your shoulder. kazuha's quiet laughter follows you out of the room, warming your heart.

✦ [screaming and crying]

✦ I HAVE BEEN GOING THROUGH KAZUHA WITHDRAWALS FOR DAYS AND THAT'S WHY THERE'S SO MANY KISSES, I'M SO SORRY I'M SUCH A PATHETIC BITCHNDBSDJ

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin kazuha x reader #[ ✍️🏽 — scribbles! ]#does a half-happy dance

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unicorncornflakes · 8 months

Text

Family Sins - One Shot || Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Paring: Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: Every Thursday afternoon you and Aemond meet, even if you have to pay for his family's sins.

Tags: Alternate Universe/ Emotional Hurt/Angst/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: I am just sad. This is the best I can write these days.

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 4.2 K

You were soaked to the skin. All your clothes were loose. But, you were still pretty. It was all Aemond could think when he saw you walking through the aisles of that roadside gas station. He followed you with his eye while you consulted the prices of a small cocoa bun. Your black sweatshirt was soaked all over while your damp hair was tied up in a ragged bun. Your black-painted nails grazed some of the price signs as you put the small dessert back in its place and grabbed a cheaper one. You smiled at him as he followed you closely and he picked up the same product that you had left in its place. You didn't talk, Aemond wasn't given to too many words and you were tired from the rain. But, storms always made you happy. It was something Aemond could never understand, but he shared with you.

Outside, at that small gas station in the middle of the forest, it was still raining. Only Aemond's gray Mercedes and the old bicycle that your mother had given you two birthdays ago were parked at the door. You always pedaled five kilometers to meet Aemond. Every Thursday afternoon. He came directly from the city and was waiting for you, drinking a coffee that he always considered awful while you arrived. He always thought he could go find you. Pick you up at the door of your house and take you to a better place. But, that would have been giving you greater importance than you really should have for him. Although, you had driven him crazy. That was all he could think every time he saw you arrive at that place on your bicycle. In summer you always arrived with your short shorts, in winter with your military boots.

On that rainy autumn afternoon, you arrived with that huge black sweatshirt that must have been borrowed, courtesy of your older brother, surely. Or that was what Aemond thought as he followed you through that small commissary that the gas station had. The idea that that sweatshirt belonged to a man other than your brother drove him crazy, so he preferred to think that it belonged to your brother. It made things easier for him. You looked at a series of cookies one last time and left them in their place.

Aemond continued to follow you at a safe distance. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye while you laughed. The two of them alone in that place. Thus, things seemed easier than they really were. Everything was simpler when you were alone.

You walked up to the register and opened the small cloth bag hanging from your back. You took out that cat-shaped purse that Aemond had bought you at a market in Flea Bottom. Also soaked, you opened it, careful not to break it while you counted the coins that that strawberry bun that you had left on the counter cost. Right behind you, Aemond also placed the cocoa puff you had chosen earlier and took the elegant black leather wallet out of his pants. Unlike you, he wasn't wet. His hair was immaculate and his clothes looked as always, well ironed and freshly washed. That black turtleneck sweater he was wearing that day, you knew, cost the same as what it took to eat at home for a whole week.

“Give me a pack of Lucky Strike too,” he said diligently as the cashier looked you up and down. Aemond also dropped a package of condoms on the counter and you blushed while he simply prepared to pay with his credit card. Two small buns. A pack of tobacco. A package of condoms…

Rob, the cashier, looked over his shoulder at you as he charged Aemond for that purchase. He was your neighbor and you were sure that he knew what you and Aemond were going to do that rainy afternoon. You left the store with the strawberry muffin even before Aemond finished paying, although it was clear that you preferred the chocolate one.

He looked at you through the huge glass doors of that gas station and wondered if it wasn't better to give you the treatment you deserved. However, he simply took the condoms and tobacco in one hand, that chocolate bun in the other and went outside. The water continued to fall hard and you were leaning against the door frame. It fell so hard from the ledge that it soaked your torn canvas sneakers, even though the rest of your body was trying to regain heat. Aemond gave you the cocoa puff and you reluctantly took it. You knew what awaited you at home that night because of that simple gesture that was intended to be kind on Aemond's part.

“I could have bought it,” you said without much encouragement, taking down your backpack from your back and putting the condoms and both buns in it. You looked at Aemond, who remained stoic and unfazed as always.

“You would have bought the strawberry one because it's the only thing you can afford and because you need to eat something,” he responded, shrugging his shoulders and opening the packet of tobacco. “This way you will eat something you like,” he said out loud, making the difference between him and you evident: he always paid with a credit card, it seemed like his money was created out of nowhere. You always carried coins in your bag and you never bought what you wanted because you simply didn't have the money for it.

“I guess,” you answered, not daring to look at him. Aemond approached you and finally kissed you. All of his slim, slender body against yours. The height difference was considerable. He just grabbed your face in his hands, his lips making contact with yours in a sweet and passionate way. You held his wrists, as if you always needed an anchor to the ground every time he kissed you. That kiss, surrounded by the storm, was observed under the disapproving gaze of that gas station cashier in the middle of nowhere. The rain threatened to soak you, but you didn't care.

As always, in the middle of all your kisses, Aemond opened his only eye, almost wanting to check that you were real, and not a simple fantasy of his imagination. He always slowly closed his eye again as your lips continued to crash against each other.

At the end of that silent kiss, Aemond took your hand, without looking back, and opened the passenger door for you in the rain. You quickly got into the car and Aemond ran to the driver's seat in the rain. You saw how his hair had now become wavy and he gave a half smile when he saw how you smiled silently, tiredly resting your head on the seat. “I could take the bike and put it in the trunk. Take you home after the motel,” he confessed, not daring to look at you. At that moment, he wanted to go further with you, beyond what he wanted to admit.

"No, do not worry. Then just leave me here and go. I’ll go home from here on the bike,” you told him, not daring to look at him either. You grabbed one of the wet, unruly strands covering your face and tucked it behind your ear. “I don't want my parents to know where I've been this afternoon,” you confessed dejectedly. You knew they would find out before nightfall, just when Rob walked through the door of your father's bar, the nerve center of the town where you lived.

“As you wish,” Aemond responded as the engine roared just started. He turned on his car radio. It only played classical music and you wondered as always if Aemond listened to anything else or the high cultural esteem in which you knew he was held prevented him from doing so. “I bought you other sneakers,” he whispered while keeping his eyes on the road. The windshield wipers of his car moving frantically in the face of such an amount of water.

“It wasn't necessary,” you responded, biting your inner cheek. You hated that he did that. You hated that he bought you everything you needed. You knew he did it for a simple reason: to hold your meetings every Thursday afternoon. As if you were a prostitute, Aemond bought everything he thought or felt you needed. It was his way of keeping you by his side. The only language of love that seemed to know how to offer, understand… “My sneakers are fine,” you said, looking at them. Destroyed and torn. That was all they were.

“They were just on sale,” he responded, putting the issue to rest. His voice always seemed to be devoid of all emotion. Sometimes you wondered if Aemond knew how to feel anything other than indifference or anger, but you knew he did. Every Thursday afternoon he demonstrated it to you. Always in the solitude of that motel room that he reserved for a few simple hours. The radio interrupted the broadcast to talk again about another urgent environmental disaster and Aemond turned it off.

Both you and he knew it was what was going to be talked about. You could see him tense up as he drove. And you directed your body towards his, releasing the seat belt. You bit your lip hesitantly as you brought his body closer to his, one of your hands gripping his seat. The other traveled to Aemond's fly.

“Hmm” was all you heard him say as your hand slowly lowered the zipper. The metallic sound of each and every one of the teeth that made it up exploded against your ears, just like the sound of the rain in the now silent interior of that high-end car. You unbuckled his belt and your hand quickly found his cock in his pants, hard and warm, soft and firm. You bit your lip seductively as you took her out of those extremely expensive underwear. “I don't want to have to give explanations at a police checkpoint like last time,” he answered, without taking his eyes off the road. Grabbing your hand with his as the other grabbed the steering wheel. “Don't be mean to me, (Y/N),” he asked you under his breath.

“I just wanted you to relax,” you whispered sensually and he smiled again without looking at you, although you never knew if when Aemond smiled he was truly happy. You returned to your seat and watched as he quickly buttoned his pants again. “If you don't like it…” you purred and he interrupted you.

“Hmm, I didn't say that,” he repeated again, remembering the fine he had had to pay and how your cheeks had blushed the most while that police officer asked you what your relationship was and forced you to take out your ID card to verify that You were actually nineteen years old and no less. Aemond was six years older than you at the time, but he had always looked older than he really was. He remembered telling the police officer that you were a couple and how you had looked at the ground in regret as those words came out of his mouth. The following Thursday you had not shown up, nor the next one. Three weeks later you came back with a very bad-looking bump between your ribs that you promised was the result of a bad fall on the bike. He knew you had lied, but stating it out loud would have meant never seeing you again.

You finally arrived at that roadside motel and Aemond left you in the car while he went to the reception to get the keys to room thirteen, the one he reserved every Thursday. You received a message from your mother asking if you needed her to pick you up after your study hours at the library. You answered no because you were carrying the bike. You lied to her again. You turned off the phone and closed your eyes. You could understand why your parents didn't want you to see Aemond, but it really wasn't his fault…

He woke you from your thoughts as he opened the car door. You walked out next to him and he held your hand again. You ran through the rain until you reached the second floor of the motel. He clumsily opened the door and you both walked in laughing and soaked. Aemond kissed you again, closing the bedroom door behind you. Holding your face again, with no escape. Your bodies swayed together in that room that had witnessed your meetings for the last two years.

You could hear him gasp as he kissed you. You broke away from his grasp and took off your soaked sweatshirt, which fell heavy to the floor. You also took off your wet shorts and were left in your underwear. Cold and shivering, Aemond covered you with his body, though he was almost as wet as you. You took off his eye patch and he laid you on the bed.

He smiled bright and powerful, like you knew he really felt about almost everyone. He was a Targaryen. He took off his turtleneck and you could see the symbol that already named him as such. The tattoo was fresh on his skin. A green and black dragon on his shoulder. Detailed to excess and you knew it named him as someone important within the family and business, criminal and legal structure. You didn't dare ask, even though he knew you knew the meaning. Your sister had explained it to you when Aegon received his. Years ago, you had both been naïve enough to think that type of tattoo was exciting and powerful. Your sister had been a fool. You weren't on a different path.

Aemond's arms supported his entire weight as he lunged at you to kiss you. His pants though on but his belt undone. He had never been a subtle boy. He smiled at you proudly and cockily, he almost seemed to know what you were thinking. He was dying to tell you that just two days ago he had given him the tattoo, that he had stood stoically and without any emotion while it was done, but his heart had been beating strongly, as if this were finally the moment of approval that he had been waiting for all his life.

He kiss you. His lips met with strength and need. They eagerly bumped into yours. A watery sound. A pleasant shiver ran down his spine, like every time he kissed you. You knew there wouldn't be much more foreplay.

He stayed silent over you. His single eye scrutinized you while the prosthesis remained immovable in that empty eye socket. He had never told you what had happened to him. He would never do it. You had heard rumors, but... His eye continued to look at you in silence. You looked beautiful with your hair wet, all spread out against the pillow, your eyes locked on his, a half smile on your lips.

His thumb brushed your bottom lip gently. Comfortable silence reigned in that cheap motel room. The gray walls. The simple sheets. That sad blind half lowered. The complete scene of your meetings every Thursday afternoon. “I love you,” Aemond confessed in a whisper. Your eyes appeared to offer a small surprise upon hearing him. He felt your entire body stiffen under him. It was the riskiest confession he could make to you. However, he was happy. At that moment, he was happy after a long time. “I love you” he repeated again with more force, as if he wanted to reaffirm his words.

His lips found yours again and you relaxed at the attention. You were in big trouble if Aemond confessed something like that, but it was really what you wanted him to do. Confess that way, with you, and only you. He lightly bit your lower lip with a smile, trying to relax you. Your hands ran up his arms as you kissed. The hand traveling on his right shoulder tried to avoid the dragon tattoo. Aemond was beginning to follow in his older brother's footsteps... You thought, you always thought that he was not that kind of man... but, he craved power like everyone else, right?

Aemond's always skillful fingers undid your panties, removing them heavy from not only the humidity of the rain that had soaked everything. You were too. Your core throbbing and waiting for a simple contact with him. An arrogant smile appeared on his lips when he saw the small soaked grotto, as if his mere presence already activated all the keys you needed. You smiled shyly at him and he kissed you again.

Your bodies merged in an embrace that promised to be eternal. You felt Aemond's cock hard, eager for what he always got when he was with you. The bright red tip protruded through the elastic of his boxers and you licked your lips in a reflex and subconscious act that Aemond was always grateful for. Seeing your wet lips and bright eyes, he could only think that you were perfect, terribly perfect.

“I'm going to get the condoms,” you whispered, a feeling of regret running through your head, as if those words had ruined everything. The atmosphere that had existed until that moment seemed to have almost disappeared and you felt his grip loosen.

“Sure” It was all he said as he stood up and took off his pants and boxers. He didn't dare look at you because he thought that afternoon was finally the moment you would leave him... bareback. He had confessed. He had done it... and you had been taking contraceptives for a year, he had no more sexual encounters than the ones he had with you... he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, crouched down rummaging through your bag, looking for the packcage that he had bought himself. You had never talked about it, but… “I'm not my brother, you know?” He whispered, looking back ahead, not daring to look at you. “If something happened, I would…”

You interrupted him by returning to bed with a condom and leaving it between the sheets while you lay on your side and he turned to look at you. “You know we can't take risk,” you told him as he went back to the bed and grabbed the wrapper. You didn't point anything out but it always made you nervous that he would tear it with his teeth. He put it on silently and positioned himself between your legs. He looked into your eyes and, for the first time, you saw an authoritative gleam behind them, almost as if that damn tattoo had changed him.

“I'm not my brother,” he repeated again under his breath. He entered you forcefully, without breaking eye contact. Your legs surrounded your hips and you moaned at that impact with such violence that it caused his testicles to collide against the slit of your pussy. You closed your eyes and didn't say anything. The sins of his family would always be present among you.

“I'm just saying that family is destroying the town.” Old Tom was sitting at the bar while your father cleaned it. It was late, but he kept moving that old rag against the bar. His eyes filled with worry as he waited for you. He knew where you had been. He knew what you had done. He had always thought of you as a smarter girl than your sister, but it was clear that you were not.

“Once again they have polluted the river with waste from the plant,” said Clark. His mug of beer met his lips. Your father knew where you had been, Rob had told him before he went home. His face had turned gloomy just then. “Those damned Targaryens…”

Just then, all the voices fell silent in the town bar. You had just walked through the door, soaked to the skin. You had pedaled there from the gas station in the rain, even though Aemond had insisted on giving you a ride home. You couldn't let your father see you with him, although when his accusatory eyes fell on you, you knew he knew. Everyone tried to return to their previous conversation as your steps led you to the bar. There a boy with white hair painted in silence. You sat next to him and saw your sister's son painting a green dragon. You were surprised to see him there. Normally the child was always well hidden at home.

“They are just destroying lives. That's the only thing they know how to do…” Tom attacked again. Clark agreed and your father approached in silence, trying to pretend he didn't know, but he knew, of course he knew.

“Your mom had to go pick up your brother… Why don't you join Greg for dinner?” your father whispered as the four year old was still engrossed in his drawing. You scooped up the little boy, who clutched the paper in his hand as you walked up the back stairs.

Your house was on the second floor of your father's business. The metal steps creaked under your weight, but your father's eyes exerted a greater weight on you. He would never tell you anything. He hadn't told your sister before he died either, but the Targaryens had destroyed his life, the life of the people in that place... your life.

Greg stared blankly as you dressed him in his pajamas after dinner. Sitting on your bed, his purple eyes seemed empty and innocuous. It had always been like this. Consciousness never seemed to have reached that unwanted child. You ruffled his hair, almost expecting a smile, but he just fixed his eyes on you. Empty and deep. As if he knew everything and nothing at the same time. You sat down next to him and took off the new sneakers Aemond had forced you to accept.

“Today I saw a dragon,” you commented, also staring at the wall. The boy turned his head slightly. His huge eyes fixed on you. The stories you always told him seemed to be the only ones that woke him up from his lethargic state. “A green dragon, like the one you were painting,” you smiled at him and his eyes seemed to get even bigger.

Greg's real name was Aeron, courtesy of your sister and his father, Aegon Targaryen. Your sister had been stupid enough to get pregnant by that rebellious boy and die in childbirth, leaving her son alone. Your parents had wanted Aegon to keep the child, but it had been impossible. A child who was not like the others, a dragon locked in a home where they were hated. Greg. It was a much better name according to your father. Your grandfather had been called that.

The Targaryens had destroyed the town with the pollution emitted by their businesses, both legal and illegal, and your entire family. And you… you had fallen in love with one of them.

Greg ended up falling asleep with you while you waited for your mother and brother. Your father always closed the bar late, but it wasn't normal for them to take so long to come back. Something must have happened...

At midnight, the lock on the front door clicked and you went out into the hallway to see if your brother and mother were finally arriving. However, that was a big mistake.

“Be thankful they're not going to press charges,” your mother's words echoed throughout the house, no doubt she was scolding your brother. He uttered something incomprehensible in the state he was in. At the time, you didn't know it, but your older brother was in trouble with Aegon again... bloody knuckles. His lost look. The split lip. While you had made love with Aemond, Gregory had punched Aegon to death.

You stood petrified, contemplating him in silence. Just then he located you. “You're a whore who sells herself for a simple cocoa roll,” he whispered. He had never told you anything like that. He, unlike your father, had always known how to hide his anger towards you. But, that night was the one that changed everything.

“Gregory, stop it,” your mother scolded him, knowing before you what he had in mind, after all she had given birth to him… Gregory pounced on you. “Gregory!!!” your mother shouted it. His bloody nails dug into your brother's skin as he hit you while you fell to the ground.

Your father had only hit you that one time... only that one time... was all you could think as you received one blow after another. He grabbed your hair, stretched your neck, and choked you until you were unconscious... The Targaryens had destroyed everything you cared about... and the only thing you could think about was that Aemond would be angry when he saw your body full of bruises... The enormous Greg's eyes watched everything in silence. That child had only seen violence in his life.

The Targaryens always destroyed everything, and Aemond and the tattoo he now had on his shoulder were proof of that.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x fem!reader

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zeroeightzeroone · 4 months

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can't love you anymore - lee minho

genre: angst

pairings: non-idol!lee minho x gender neutral reader

warnings: one mention of alcohol

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~1.2k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

minho: hey, i'm gonna be there later than we planned the senior coworkers invited me out for drinks, you know i can't risk saying no to them sorry baby

the messages left you feeling indifferent.

in all honesty, you didn't really care that he would be coming later than planned; considering that this wouldn't be the first time pre-organized plans needed to be postponed or cancelled. by either of you.

of course, the disappointment had set in the first couple of times but eventually, it happened so often that it was to be expected. whether it be on the day of or a couple of hours before, a text or call would be incoming to the other's phone: both methods contained an explanation followed by a short apology. a brief "that's okay" or something similar in response.

you: it's fine get here safely later

minho: thank you baby, i'll see you later

it's become glaringly obvious that both of you were increasingly growing tired of the half-hearted apologies and the effortless responses that followed.

minho: i love you

you: i love you too

sometimes you found yourself wondering when your relationship started to feel like a chore.

when did exchanging words of affection become a part of the routine?

the words "i'm sorry" and "i love you" felt like more of a formality, the appropriate and go-to response between you two. the significance the words once held only faded into obscurity. the hints of remorse and urge to reconcile were gone, the words of affection and dedication now devoid of any meaning, falling flat when uttered.

as usual, you choose to disregard those fleeting thoughts, using the hours before minho arrives to straighten out and clean up your apartment: throwing clothes into the washer and dryer, changing the sheets and cleaning whatever you saw fit.

at the same time you were trekking around through the unit looking for things to occupy yourself, minho found himself sitting in a grilled meat restaurant. the man seated surrounded by senior coworkers from different departments, the table full of a variety of meat cuts, side dishes and alcohol.

once all your household tasks are completed, you make your way into the living room and switch on the lights to illuminate the apartment unit. you settle down onto the couch, positioned next to the large windows, resting your cheek against your palm as you take in the view of the city.

the sky is slowly beginning to darken as the sun sets behind the skyline, your pointer finger tracing the droplets of rain trickling down the opposite side of the glass pane. the gentle pitter-patter of the raindrops and the pleasant aroma permeating through the crack of the opened window create a soothing environment within your apartment.

a series of soft vibrations captures your attention, drawing your gaze from the window to your phone. you pick it up from the couch armrest as the screen illuminates:

incoming call: minho

accepting the call, you bring the phone up to your ear.

"hello?" you speak into the microphone, "where are you?"

minho slips into the car and you hear the sound of rain-soaked cars and city chatter through his microphone. you catch a bit of his conversation with the cab driver before the door slams.

"i'm in a cab," he finally replies, another set of murmurs directed to the driver before his attention is back on you, "where are you?"

"i'm at home."

"okay, good. i told the driver to go there," minho's voice is dull, laced with exhaustion as he stares out the foggy windows of the taxi.

"are you sure?" you remove the phone from your ear, glancing at the time, "it's almost… 11pm, and it's raining like crazy outside."

"i'll be fine," minho brushes you off, "i'm already on the way."

suddenly you hear the man gasp.

"what? what's going on?"

minho's phone had dropped from his hold, landing next to him.

the impact had travelled through the microphone resulting in a thud on your end, followed by the sound of frantic movement. on the other end of the line, minho is patting down his coat, and his pants; focusing on the pocketed areas, before hurriedly flipping through his bag.

"shit," minho curses, "sir-"

"what's going on, minho?" you ask, even though he can't hear you.

the device is still resting next to him on the seat. your nosiness gets the best of you as you press the phone closer, as if that would help you hear any better.

"i'm so sorry but…" the rest of minho's sentence is inaudible, rendering you unable to decipher the conversation he's having with the driver.

you hear the car screech right before minho picks the phone up again, holding it up to his ear.

"what happened?" you wonder, brows knit together in confusion.

"i left my wallet at the bar," minho grumbles, "didn't realize 'till we drove away so we gotta go back.… hopefully it's still there."

minho whispers the last part to himself, running a frantic hand through his hair.

"anyway, i'll be there soon," he clears his throat.

an audible sigh leaves your lips and travels down the line, prompting minho to say:

"i'm sorry."

"hmm…?" you hum, "for what?"

"just–" he pauses, thinking for a moment before continuing, "everything..."

you're wracking your brain to think of what to respond to minho, the apology catching you off guard.

it felt different.

the way he apologized was different from before.

this time it had meaning and intention behind it. you understood what he meant by "everything" without the need of any further explanation.

"just… go home minho," you breath out, "get your wallet and go home."

you don't have to say anything else.

there's no need to stand firm on your word as minho doesn't ask if you're sure, he doesn't insist on coming over.

instead, the line falls quiet. neither of you utter a word or make a move to break the connection.

you both just sit on the line silently.

the air between you and minho is uncomfortable and suffocating. leading minho to think the cab driver's picked up on the tense atmosphere as he clears his throat, fingers tapping on the wheel.

what a perfect time to be caught in traffic.

much like your plans, the end had been postponed and cancelled countless times.

you hoped to salvage what once was but every kiss, hug, and touch became meaningless.

"oh, hey–" your voices are low, barely even whispers as you and minho choose to break the silence at the same time.

your faces burning up as you both stammer, pushing the other to speak first.

"sorry…you first," you whisper.

"no, no. you."

you're sitting with your knees drawn up to your chest. in the cab, minho sits with his legs spread, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his thigh. his eyes blink slowly in anticipation.

"i– uh… never mind."

"no, what is it?"

"i don't think we're in love anymore."

there it is.

that one sentence changes everything, saying everything you both needed to, no further explanation is needed.

you both sit on the line as the silence makes an appearance in the atmosphere once again, only this time it's different; it's still, comforting, void of the suffocating weight it once had a few moments ago.

meanwhile, the storm outside progressively gets worse as the minutes pass. inevitably, the rain picks up, leaving you both with those last moments of silence in each other's presence before the signal cuts off.

the connection was lost.

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rainbowchaox · 1 month

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OKOKOKOKOK ANOTHER AU FOR ADOPTION:

Space Romance Au

Pretty much Earth sends out people on missions to research alien flora and fauna. They arrive on a distant planet and live in like a portable housing/research station. The station has good housing quarters and labs filled with the best equipment. Also each station has a food replicator. Usually these stations are only manned by one human. Mostly everything is automatic. And Missa is part of this project and is currently manned on the recently found planet coined Vita Viridis.

Vita Viridis is an oxygen rich planet whose natural flora experience gigantism. It’s heavily forested with flora reaching almost unnatural proportions. It tends to be a mild climate but does have typical seasons. It’s tends to rain often and it’s common for bodies of water to dot the surface. So often in fact that Missa usually goes around by boat.

The station Missa resides in is on an island in a middle of a swamp which the roots of the massive trees delve into. It’s the only dry land he saw when he landed so he had to make do. And also why he takes full advantage of the water to explore Vita Viridis.

But the fact is Missa soon realizes he is not alone. Introducing the humanoid insectoid species of Vita Viridis. (Thank you @changeling-ash for all of these)

Class: Suprainsecta (Above Insect)

Order: Sapenoptera (Wise Winged)

Family: Elytronidae (Covering [wing])

Genus: Sapien Vitari (Wise Vitari)

The common name is Vitari. Named after the planet as it’s the dominant species. And one Vitari is very attached to Missa. A Vitari named Phil. Missa saved him from a giant spider web and he now wants to court the pretty human. And does make himself known often to Missa. He is fully sentient but unable to speak human languages.

Vitari communicate by complicated vocalizations including clicks, chirps, trills, rattles and buzzing. Though they can eventually be taught human languages. Vitari also use wing vibrations to communicate as well.

Missa at first was terrified of Phil because he has common sense and healthy sense of what is dangerous. But it wasn’t long until he found out Phil was pretty harmless and mostly curious (Though it does take him a bit longer to realize that Phil wants to court him)

Vitari have elytra that can make them able to fly. Silver or black are the most common colorings. They also have a stinger of sorts that puts venom into whatever they are hunting. They have black sclera with strange pupils. Their elytra is very fast. Their skin is mostly cartilage but can be numerous shades. They tend to wear basic like robes made from spider silk though some Vitari tribes have ways to dye the silk. And some Vitari communities have made full blown cities deep in the forest. Though it’s more common for Vitari to live isolated lives from the rest of their species.

Anyways Phil is courting human missa. This includes serenades. Mainly flapping his wings to create vibrations (not like actually singing). Phil also does elaborate dances and show off with his flying. Also just in general fly close to him (For example in real life male flies would fly close to female flies for attention). Another big thing is the nuzzles. Phil loves to nuzzle into missa hair or shoulder. Also loves to bump foreheads together. Another thing common in real life is insects prepare a meal for females. So Phil keeps trying to feed Missa with strange creatures he hunted. He eventually learns Missa prefers alien fruits and therefore gathers that for him instead. (Yes Missa falls victim to puppy eyes on his alien love interest and goes against all his common sense and eats the fruit. It’s delicious)

Missa has to contact the crew on earth with new findings and just in general checking he is fine and healthy. And they make fun of him so much for going against basic scientific principles and eating foods he doesn’t know how it would affect his human body. Missa too enamored by sweet alien to not accept his gifts. If he gets poisoned he gets poisoned.

Vitari live in hidden treehouses in the canopy. It tends to use whatever is around them to make it though they make the floor soft with fur and moss to sleep on. And they tend to hoard materials for either expanding their nest of sorts or stock food items. They also make simple tools to help them with their day to day. Vitari are pretty smart.

I personally like to imagine during the period Missa didn’t realize Phil has a crush on him and is courting him the Vitari way is when he had to contact the base on earth about his findings and research and Phil just climbed into his lap for cuddles and nuzzles. As he buzzes and chirps happily. His higher ups are concerned at first that he somehow got the dominant species to want to court him. But he is still doing excellent work so it’s fine with them.

#feel free to ask me questions in my ask box #this is a au for adoption btw pls @ me if you make art or fic of it #pissa #qsmp pissa #bugza being gay #bug trigger warning #space au

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Note

I need to know that she's going to art school in philly. A reunion, maybe Eddie helping her move. Her meeting Wayne pls. love your writing!!

The acceptance letter came and two weeks later, you were on a flight.

It had been easy to pack up another suitcase, clothes and belongings flung into the bag, shoes still stained with mud from camp, Eddie’s sweater folded on top, his mixtape in your walkman, never taken out. You packed Polaroids in the front covers of books, printed emails folded neatly between the pages, the letter from the university tucked beside it.

You’d told your parents, got yelled at and then watched them cry. It was simultaneously the hardest and easiest thing you’d ever done. You’d spent the rest of summer at home, thinking you’d craved the camp grounds, the noise, the forest. But each email that pinged into your inbox brought the same excitement and eventually, you realised that it was Eddie you missed the most.

You called him the day the letter arrived. Hands shaking on the plastic receiver, the paper clutched to your chest and you stuttered and stammered your way through an introduction when his uncle

Wayne picked up but god, the feeling that came over you when the man yelled for his nephew and said, ‘it’s your girl, son,’ was completely and utterly indescribable.

You bought your tickets the next day. You didn’t have an apartment lined up, not yet. But your parents took you to the airport and they both hugged you, told you to stay safe and call them when you landed, so things didn’t seem as scary as they once did.

Eddie told you he’d meet you in arrivals and you spent the flight wondering if he’d changed, I’d he’d looked different, if he’d feel different when you hugged him. ‘Cause it had been almost six weeks since you last saw him and almost every bit of communication you’d had with him since had been in black and white, words on a computer screen.

Philadelphia looked like the biggest city you’d ever seen from the sky, and god, maybe it’s cause it was. You’d barely strayed from Michigan before, a summer spent in a forest in Indiana the most adventurous it had gotten. The plane seemed to skim the tops of skyscrapers as it came into land, the sky blue and the ground grey concrete and littered with cars that looked like multi-colored ants.

Big bridges, long stretches of water, roads that criss-crossed over each other and somewhere, hopefully, amongst the brownstones and suburbs, would be your future apartment. You dreamt about paint colours, thrift store coffee tables, how you’d get a couch in the front door, a bed you didn’t have to make every morning.

You thought of Eddie in it, more often than not, maybe, eventually. Eddie in your kitchen, a tiny space, more than likely, Eddie at the stove, sleepy eyed and shirtless with messy hair and coffee for you and him. You thought about the boy in your bed, a proper bed that fit both of you, where you could do more than just kiss and let hands wander.

Your stomach flipped at that, heart cartwheeling in your chest. But maybe that’s just because the plane had hit the runway with a bump and a jerk and oh my god? You were in Philadelphia.

Home.

Eddie was waiting where he said he would, his last email tucked under your arm with the rest of your documents, your boarding pass, your paperwork for the rest of your luggage that wouldn’t be arriving for another few days.

‘I’ll get you in arrivals,’ he’d typed. ‘I’ll be beside the coffee shop there, there’s a huge ass plant, look for that.’

Your heart thumped to the same rhythm of the roll of your suitcase, the wheels clickclickclicking over the tiles and everyone was simultaneously moving to slow and too fast at the same time. You wondered if Eddie smelled the same, if he used the same cologne, if he’d still smell like summer and rain and smoke now that he wasn’t at camp.

Would he look at you the same way? Would he still like you? Would he still want you? Was this a mistake?

You paused, chest heaving and eyes blinking back tears that were brought on with from the familiar feeling of panic but then you looked across the lounge and saw a face in the crowd, right next to a huge fern, right where he said he’d be.

Eddie looked the same, black jeans ripped at the knees, a T-shirt with a band logo on the front that you’d never heard of, faded and sun bleached. He looked a little tan still, like he’d spent just as much time outside in the city that summer as he had at camp. His hair was the same, except he’d cut his bangs, a tiny bit squint, just like he’d told you in an email. You knew there was a new tattoo on his right forearm, a line of trees in black ink, the keast metal thing on his body, he’d said. But it reminded him of camp and summer and a second home.

You couldn’t wait to see it, you’d told him.

You were walking over before you realised, your feet carrying you across the large room with less panic than you previously had. ‘Cause looking at Eddie was like waking up on a summer morning, hazy blue skies outside your bedroom window, cotton sheets, bed warm skin, the smell of sunscreen, rainstorms from the night before, coffee through pine tree forests.

It was familiar, comforting, like home.

He saw you then, grinned like you remembered, wide and all consuming, a bright stretch of a smile across his face, dimples deepening at the sight of you. You picked up your pace when he stepped forward, feet almost tripping over themselves and you flung yourself at him, suitcase rolling away abandoned.

Eddie caught you, groaning into your neck as his arms wound themselves around your waist and he sounded relieved. He smelled the same. Like smoke and rain and summer and Eddie and you clung to him, arms a vice around his neck, squealing when he lifted you from the floor.

“Fuck,” he murmured into your skin, nose pressed to your pulse point. His voice was a rough rasp, thick with emotion. “I fuckin’ missed you.”

You nodded, agreeing, pulling back to press your nose against his, pressing a your lips to his in what was more a shared smile than a kiss - but it felt just as good, just as nice.

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fic #camp eddie blurb

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foreverrandomwritings · 11 months

Note

these jealous prompts with my babygirl bucky pls 🦾🤍 romantic relationship

“hey— look at me. why are you all upset?”

“i promise there’s no one else. you have my heart completely.”

Blind Dates

Summary: Loving each other had been difficult since neither of you were aware of the feelings the other harbored. What happens when it gets too much for you to handle?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x afab!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol and fluff.

Word count: 1105

Masterlist M's Hundred Celly Masterlist

You had a crazy road leading you to becoming friends with Bucky. It had started out as you being friends with Clint, then Natasha, eventually Steve, then Sam and now Bucky. Even though everyone around you could see the love you had for each other, the two of you couldn’t see it. Thinking the other strictly wanted a platonic relationship.

That had worked out decently for you up until Sam started setting Bucky up on blind dates. He had seemed a little reluctant to go on them but you figured that was probably because it had been a while since he had dated. You knew from Steve what a ladies man he used to be. Which you understood completely, even after everything he’s been through he still had charm.

But the more dates he went on the more you pulled away from him. It hurt to see him constantly going out with other women while you pined for him from the sidelines. He had noticed the distance growing between you. When he asked about it you would make up an excuse and tell him it was okay.

The final straw though was when you saw him on one of the dates. You had decided to have a drink and dinner by yourself at a local restaurant. Your dinner had just arrived when you heard a familiar voice. You paused mid bite looking around until your eyes landed on him. He had on your favorite red Henley, nice form fitting jeans and a pair of dressy casual shoes.

From where you were sitting you could see the women he was on a date with. She looked nothing like you. Different hair color, different face shape, she dressed more provocative than you did, her eyes were even a different color from yours. You felt nauseous as she reached across the table to stroke his flesh arm.

Flagging down the waiter you asked for a box and the check. He brought it out hastily packing your food away as you put cash with the check. You told him to keep the change as you slipped from the table and towards the door. You smelled his aftershave as you passed their table. Which was conveniently on the way to the door.

You heard him call your name as you slipped into the busy streets of the city. Quickly you blended into the crowd and made your way home. You thought about taking the subway or hailing a taxi as you walked. But you decided you needed to clear your head some and the walk back to your apartment would give you the time to.

You regretted that decision though as an unexpected storm came pouring down from the sky. Huffing you pulled the jacket you had on tighter around your body. The bag of leftovers hanging lazily from your fingers. Your teeth started to chatter the closer you got to your block. But you hadn’t been paying attention enough to notice.

Once you rounded the corner that would take you to the tall brick building you noticed a figure sitting on the stoop. You were on high alert instantly scanning the area around you for any possible threats. Seeing none you cautiously made your way to the steps. As you got closer you could make out the person drenched in rain.

“Buck?” You called out towards him. His head shot up as he heard your voice.

“Doll, did you walk here?” He was out of his seat now striding over to you in a few steps.

“Uh yea. Have you been waiting here for long?” You asked him, eyes shooting towards where he was sitting before looking towards the ground.

“About an hour. I saw you while you were leaving the restaurant. I called out to you but you didn’t answer me. I followed you outside and you were gone. I thought you got a cab but once I got here you weren’t here so I decided to wait for you.” You shrugged your shoulders at the end of his sentence trying to remain emotionless.

“Hey— look at me. Why are you all upset?” He brought a finger to your chin lifting your face up to see you. He had always been able to see through your facades. The rain had started coming down heavier. His hair was sticking to his forehead and his eyelashes were littered with rain drops.

“I’m not upset Buck.” You searched his eyes for a hint of the love you felt for him. You were surprised to see exactly that in his blue eyes.

“I know you’re upset, please just talk to me.” His rough fingers slipped from your chin to your cheek. You took a deep shaking breath at the contact.

“I don’t like seeing you or hearing about you going on dates. I don’t like that you are with someone that isn’t me.” You told him shakily, not trusting yourself to not cry.

“Doll, I promise there’s no one else. You have my heart completely.” His eyes darted towards your lips as you slipped your tongue between them, licking some of the rain off them.

“Then why have you been going on dates?” You asked him skeptically, he looked ashamed as he spoke.

“I just needed to get my mind off you. But it never worked. You’re all I can think about. Day and night my thoughts are filled with you.” Your eyes were now on his lips as he spoke. Imagining them melded to yours. The knowledge that you ran through his mind as much as he did yours, warmed something deep inside you.

“Kiss me Buck.” You looked at him as the rain continued to pour around you.

“Are you sure, doll?” His voice was hesitant as he looked at your face. Studying it closely for any signs of hesitation from you. When he saw none he was slowly moving forwards.

The kiss was soft and slow. His hands remained on your face as yours came up to cup his own. The bag of leftovers falling from your grasp. You continued to kiss out on the sidewalk covered in rain for what felt like hours until he pulled away.

“You're shivering, let’s get inside.” You nodded, as you led him up your steps into your apartment. Once you entered you went into your room giving him an extra set of clothes before slipping into some of your own.

You grabbed a blanket and got settled on the couch as he changed. When he slipped into the room you gestured for him to join you and he did. You fell asleep that night laying on top of him, his arms wrapped around you securely. He had his first nightmare less sleep in years as your scent and warmth surrounded him. You would talk about what this meant for the both of you in the morning. For now you would enjoy the embrace of the other.

A/N: A surprise out of schedule post today in honor of it being my besties birthday! Happy Birthday Love @theeleggymeggy! Plus a bonus gif as an extra present!❣️❣️

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @sylviebell

#m's hundred celly #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #winter solider imagine #winter solider x reader #fluff #winter solider oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #M loves Meg

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your-not-invisible-to-me · 1 year

Text

We'll Hold Hands Until the Sun Comes Out (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Ship: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary:

After a horrible week of bad luck breaking you down, Matt is ready to be there and pick up the pieces.

Word Count: 1,494

Warning: none

A/N: Title inspired by one of my favorite songs, "Time Wasting" by Heffron Drive. Listen to it here! It makes the fic better me thinks. Fic itself is for @pastafossa as she deserves all the Matt comfort after some consistent bad luck.

It was too loud.

Even with the lights off and the tv on mute, the world was just too loud as you continued to bury your head into the pillow.

It had been an awful week. Just plain awful.

You should have known something was wrong when it started with Matt telling you he had to go out of town for a few days, some conference upstate that was an apparent golden networking opportunity for him and Foggy. Who were you to protest?

But then the power went out in the apartment after they left, and only Matt had the passwords to all the accounts you needed to pay for it.

Did you mention your phone was dead, too?

Sure you were able to get it charged after going to Karen’s. Sure you were able to call Matt and listen as he profusely apologized for letting the date of the power bill slip his mind. Sure, you were able to get confirmation that it would be turned on by the end of the day, and indeed it was.

But then your co-worker called out sick the next day, leaving you to deal with an angry boss. Then your lunch got stolen. Twice. In one week.

And who could forget the lovely cab that skidded to a stop right next to you on the sidewalk? While it was raining?

So now, as the evening rolled around on Friday night, all you wanted to do was sleep.

But it was just too loud. Each honk of a Hell’s Kitchen taxi came through the walls as if it were the bricks that fell as it toppled down. The slide of your clothes against the grooves in the silk sheets dug into your brain like nails on a chalkboard.

So you did what you could do as you dug your head deeper into the pillow, and hoped that sleep would eventually win the battle.

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Matt couldn’t exactly complain about the week he’d had. While he always hated being away from you, the trip to Syracuse for a conference was a success. While networking wasn’t either his or Foggy’s stronger suit, as it usually involved kissing ass to lawyers who wouldn’t take a second glance at them, he had felt that this conference was filled with the rare types you only heard of, lawyers who cared.

He couldn’t help but feel a new hope for the profession he had worked hard to be in.

So now, on this Friday night, he, Karen, and Foggy sat in Josie’s Bar drinking to their success. He had tried to call you to join them, as he and Foggy had chosen to go straight there once arriving back to the city, but was sent straight to voicemail. But it was rather late, and he assumed you were already asleep.

Little did he know.

“You should have heard her, Karen. It was so refreshing to actually listen to a lawyer who actually fought for her client. I mean, sure, Jen doesn’t exactly take on clients with the cleanest records, but you can see she actually believes in their right to redemption.” said Foggy. “Too bad she had to go straight back to LA. She seemed like the type who would be hella fun in a bar.”

It was the mention of you that pulled Matt back into the conversation.

“Jen would have to be immune to alcohol if she wanted to out-drink her!” said Karen. She wasn’t wrong, his girlfriend did have quite the ability to hold her liquor.

“Where is she, anyway?” asked Foggy. “She never misses a night a Josie’s.”

“I tried calling her!” said Matt. “It went straight to voicemail. She’s probably already asleep. She seemed pretty busy lately.”

“Well with the week she’s had, I wouldn’t blame her for conking out either,” said Karen.

Well, that sure did get Matt’s attention.

“What do you mean?”

As Karen spilled in detail your trail of bad luck that had followed you throughout the week, the grip on his cane tightened. Both of his friends knew better than to question it as he immediately slipped cash on the table and just about threw himself out the door.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was too quiet.

Usually, when Matt approached his apartment, he’d be able to hear you in some shape or form, whether it would be humming as you danced through the kitchen or the murmur of the television that played softly as you snoozed on the couch.

But now there was nothing. He would have thought no one was home if he hadn’t finally picked up your heartbeat when he entered the lobby.

As he opened the door, the scene before him made his heart ache. He could sense everything. Your work clothes were skewed across the floor rather than in the hamper, something you had bought to make HIM pick up the habit. Dishes from leftovers were piled in the sink, and while he was more than guilty of waiting till the morning to clean up dinner, you were always the opposite.

He made it to your shared bedroom, finding you curled up in bed under more blankets than he realized you owned.

“Sweetheart?”

The silence echoed throughout the room, raising his concern as he knew you weren’t asleep.

He walked to your side of the bed, lowering to his knees as he tried to find your face.

“Darling, are you all right?”

“Matty?” your voice came out in cracks.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Please help me.”

If his heart ached before, it was falling to pieces now. He immediately crawled up into bed with you, pulling you into his lap as he curled himself around you. Tears immediately started falling from your eyes, soaking his shirt as he tried to soak up your pain.

“What do you need, sweetheart? How can I help?” He had never seen you like this before, each of your sobs feeling like a stab to his heart.

“I’m just so tired, Matt. This week was so bad.”

“Why didn’t you call me earlier? I would have come straight home.”

“You were working. You were busy.”

“Never too busy for you.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. You knew Matt loved you and were as certain of it as if you could hear his heartbeat too. But you weren’t going to interrupt his week when it was important for work.

“What can I do, sweetheart?”

“Make the world quiet, please.”

This was something he knew all too well. The feeling of the world being so loud that it took over any peace in his mind was something he knew like the back of his hand. You were always the first one to help him. You were always the first to let him lay his head in your lap as he blocked out the bad. You were always the first to pull him into your chest when he needed the shield.

Could he be just as strong for you? That, he wasn’t sure.

But he was damn well ready to try.

He maneuvered you so you were curled up next to him, kissing your cheek in apology as you let out a moan at being separated.

“Just a second, sweetheart.”

He slipped his shirt and pants off, leaving him in just his boxers before he turned to you. You let him do the same, too tired to do anything as he slipped your own clothes off and threw them to the ground.

Usually, your side of the bed was the one closest to the window. You liked being woken up by the sun through the blinds and feeling the warmth on your face. But that didn’t matter now as he pulled you back into his arms, skin to skin, turning you so he was blocking the window from your space.

You immediately felt better. The scrapes on a chalkboard were suddenly replaced by the soft beat of Matt’s heart as you laid your head against his chest. The itch from the sheets faded away as the feeling was replaced by the softness of Matt’s skin.

He dug his hand into your hair, giving your head soft scratches like you did to him, feeling your body go slack as each muscle fell loose.

“Oh sweetheart, I love you so much. Please. Never feel like you need to fight alone when the world seems too strong. I’ll gladly fight by your side.”

Matt couldn’t help but feel satisfied as he felt you start to relax in his arms.

“That’s it, darling. It’s okay.”

Matt curled around you tighter, smiling to himself as he felt you slip your hand into his, holding it like a lifeline to the calm you desperately needed after the storm.

He felt the grip of your hand lessen as you finally fell asleep as the darkness of the night took over, but he knew he’d force himself to stay awake if it meant holding it till sunrise.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! As always, let me know if I missed any spelling or grammar errors. I tried my best to catch them, but I'm not the best at it.

Feedback always appreciated too!

I hope you enjoyed the Matt comfort, @pastafossa. I adore you always, friend!

To the person who sent in the Matt x Jen phone sex request, it will be here soon!

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