#i never got to catch up on eternal city

[tsukishimakeiswife]

You just spent the dirtiest night of your life with Geto Suguru.

a/n- this song reminded me of him<3 you could play it throughout the post if you'd like.

------

One chance. That's what you told yourself and Geto before agreeing to go on a date with him. Everything about him was so alluring. You knew once you crossed a certain line with him, there would be no going back. Not with him. In the 3 years you worked with Geto Suguru, not once did you resist catching a glance at him. How could you not? When he looked at you as if you were his only source of life. He was perfect and amazing at everything he did. That's also why you loathed him. Anything you did, he would do it better, that too with such ease.

Hating him wasn't easy, either. Your seniors would want you to consult him if there was any issue. Got a problem with your paycheck? Ask Geto. Want a sick leave? Ask Geto. And wouldn't he enjoy it when you came to him, seeking help? His signature smirk plastered across his face every time you stood outside his office. He was so infuriating, yet so attractive.

One day, he finally pushed you over the edge. A sales pitch you worked on for weeks was scraped just because Geto had a better idea. 'Of course, they should just let him run the company, huh?' You made the not-so-graceful decision of walking out of the meeting and going back to your office. You got your stuff, clearly done for the day, and left the building soon after. Trying to haul the cab in horrendous city traffic only frustrated you further. That was until someone put their hand on your shoulder, almost making you jump.

There he stood, looking egregiously hot. He stood in front of you with his shoulder-length hair in a half bun and a shirt that hugged him just right. He fixed his tie before speaking up after what felt like an eternity of eye contact.

"I didn't mean for that to happen- look, (y/n). I know you hate me right now, but let me make it up to you."

And that's how you ended up here. Sitting in front of him so prettily, adorned in your most breathtaking dress and high heels- to look somewhat tall next to his large build. You made sure to look your best, and the way his eyes scanned your body made your efforts worth them. The glass of wine in your hand, long forgotten as you leaned back and heard him speak. The tension between you two was wild. The air was heavy and thick. The ambiance of the restaurant didn't help much, either. You were sure he picked such a place on purpose.

However, that wasn't the craziest part about tonight. It was the fact that you were enjoying this so much. His eyes never left yours, alternating between your lips and orbs while you spoke. He leaned in to 'hear' you better and 'accidentally' brushed his knees against yours. Tonight, there was something different in him. It was as if nothing was stopping him. Hunger was apparent in his eyes. He was determined to get what he wanted.

You saw through his game. You weren't dumb, and he knew it. He wanted you to make the first move. Moreover, with every second passing, it seemed more difficult not to do that.

"Easier said than done, love. You ne-", he stopped talking immediately. He had something better to focus on now. Your freshly manicured nails were currently placed on his thigh. If his winning this silly game meant what you thought it did, then you'd take it any day. You were attracted to Geto, more than anything at the moment. His eyes darkened and in the blink of an eye, his entire aura shifted. You felt smaller, and you didn't think that was possible with Geto. He called the waiter for the cheque almost as if in a hurry.

The two of you got up and he immediately took your hand in his, taking you towards the elevator, maybe. You didn't care. Not when Geto has you in such a state. And he hasn't even touched you yet.

The two of you enter the elevator, finally alone. He didn't react, though. All you wanted to do was kiss him, taste him, feel him. His calm composure, on the contrary, was far from your flustered state. He looked down to meet your gaze as you did the same, bodies facing each other, but not reacting.

The lift doors opened and he immediately walked out. You tried to keep up with him, but he was practically dragging you now. You entered the suite he'd booked for you and the man in front of you didn't even wait for the door to close before pinning you against it. He leaned down to make sure he was just above you, his hair falling out of place onto yours. You tucked the strands of his hair behind his ears before pulling him down to kiss him.

You could physically feel the smile on his face when you did, and he didn't spare you for a second. His hands immediately reached for your throat and the other one pressed your lower back to bring you closer to him. The kiss was electric, hot, passionate, and desperate. Geto Suguru kissed hard. He gently led you towards the bedroom- not breaking the kiss for a second. You felt ecstatic, his hand on your throat applying the slightest amount of pressure- the kiss which was so hot you felt dizzy already. Breaking apart to catch your breath; you looked into his eyes, his pupils were completely blown out; his hair was a mess now; he was so pretty.

He pushed you onto the bed and you were now lying on your back. Geto caged you in before kissing your jaw, your neck- biting and leaving marks with utmost grace. He kissed you on that spot behind your ears, to which you sharply exhaled. He smirked against your skin and whispered in your ears, "I haven't even done anything yet, and look how you're reacting." you rolled your eyes and scoffed before whining at the feeling of his teeth sinking into your soft skin. Your hands were on his neck, playing with his hair and occasionally tugging on them. It drove him crazy.

He gave you a genuine look as his hands landed on the hem of your dress, making sure you were still okay with this- to which you nodded. He slipped your dress off and tossed it aside, taking in what was in front of him. It was as if he was consuming you completely, his gaze was dark- it sucked you in, trapped you inside. You tugged on his hand for him to hurry. He kissed you again and you unbuttoned his shirt. You knew he had an amazing body, but it was nothing like you'd imagined. There really was not a single thing in him that you could complain about.

He kissed down your chest, taking off your bra and stopping right at your stomach. He looked straight into your eyes and said, "What do you want me to do, love?" your breath hitched and you hesitated. You felt more needy than ever, Geto knew that. But he had to show you he had power over you, didn't he?

"Geto, please. I need you," you said- whispered. He raised his eyebrow to indicate that he'll have to hear you again. "You'll have to be louder- and more specific." he retorted.

"I want you to fuck me, there?" you almost spat out. Only getting more and more frustrated. You sneaked in a 'please, Geto' to make sure he didn't get pissed. All he did was simply nod while taking off your lace panties. He didn't hesitate for a second before shoving two of his long, rough fingers into your cunt. A loud whine left your lips and your hands immediately covered your mouth, trying their best to muffle your moans- screams. His fingers were long. You meant that. He stretched you out and immediately began pumping in and out. He tutted and shook his head- almost as if he was disappointed.

"I wanna hear you, baby. Covering your pretty mouth won't help. And, it's Suguru for you." at this point, anything this man said only made you wetter. He found your g-spot effortlessly, abusing it as he added a third finger. "Fuck- Suguru, too much." your back arched and your breath hitched with every thrust. He could tell you were getting close. "Too much? This isn't enough, my love." his thumb was now on your clit, toying with it as if it wasn't making you whimper and moan out his name. His free hand caressed your face, tucking your hair behind your ear and locking fingers with yours.

You were close, lewd sounds echoed through the suite and his harsh, degrading comments only got you riled up more. "gonna cum- shit. hah- Suguru, more." He chuckled before picking up his pace. "Come on, come for me." pushing you over the edge. You screamed out his name and held onto his hand as your orgasm washed over you. It was ecstatic. Your body spasmed and you tried to catch your breath. Your orgasm barely passed by before you hear his trousers drop to the floor.

"Don't think we're done, love. I meant what I said. We're just getting started." he took off his boxers revealing what he'd been hiding the entire time. This man was big. And you meant that. A wave of shock and excitement passed your body as you gasped at the sight before you.

"Get on your knees for me." you nod and shuffle around till your knees and elbows are on the mattress, your ass is up and your hair brought to one side of your face. His hand trails along your spine kneads your ass before giving it a harsh slap.

“I’m gonna go slow at first, tell me when you’re comfortable, hm?” he says as he coats his cock with your slick. He aligns himself and slowly enters your hole. A sharp exhale left your mouth as you groaned and threw your head back. He was way bigger than you expected, you bit your lip to drift your attention away from the sting you felt. He leaned forward so that his chest was on your back now and he sank his teeth into your neck while entering you slowly. You whimpered and tears pooled in your eyes, carrying your mascara with them as they ran across your cheek. He kissed your tears away and whispered how ‘you’re such a good girl’ and you’re ‘so obedient for him’

After what felt like an eternity, he completely bottomed out and the pain slowly faded away- transforming into the most pleasure you’ve ever had. You gave him a quick nod which was his signal. He turned immediately. His pace increased and he went faster- harder. Your face was now smushed against the pillow while you screamed in pleasure. His hand rubbed against your overstimulated clit- only making you cry out more as you begged him to slow down, to go easy on you. His hips snapped against yours picking up his pace despite your cries.

You could feel your next orgasm nearing, feeling embarrassed over how much tighter your cunt got with every thrust, a groan left his lips and he grabbed a fistful of your hair to lift you up to his level, your back pressed against his strong chest.

“You’re gonna be a good slut for me and take it, yeah? I see the way you’d look at me everyday. Fucking me with your eyes in front of everyone. Now take it like a good girl.” you cried out his name and tried to grab his hand that was currently abusing your clit. Your choked cries and unsuccessful attempts at getting him to slow down did nothing but boost his ego more. He let go of your hair letting you fall back onto the pillow and grabbed your face, turning it to the side, “You’re not gonna look away, okay?” he said.

You bit your lip and nodded at him as you grabbed the bedsheets, seeking support from the silk sheet underneath the two of you. He thought you looked beautiful, your pouty lips were swollen and glistened with your own saliva on them, your cheeks stained with mascara and your eyes, half lidded and pooled with tears. You looked ethereal.

With a final thrust you came around him, crying out choked moans and whines as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you felt like you couldn’t think anymore. Geto thrusted into you throughout your orgasm and gently lifted you up while he fucked into you, you gasped as you still clinged onto him. This man was strong- he lifted you off the ground while fucking into you as if it was no big deal.

By the time you rode out your high, you realized you were pressed against the glass window of your suite. The cold glass made you hiss as you looked down at the busy street. Humiliation took over you as you looked at Geto with a confused face. You were tired, that's for sure. A mess. That was an accurate word to describe your state right now. Geto pulled out of your abused hole and you whined at the empty feeling, still breathing heavily from your last orgasm. He turned you around to face him.

"You alright there?" he tilted his face to the side and leaned down to lock lips with yours. He was soft, kind, and caring. At the same time time; he was rough, mean, and sadistic. He had you wrapped around his finger. You whispered his name out when he slowly entered you again. Your back arched and you dug your nails into his back. He hissed at your actions and groaned your name out. Your name left his lips as if it was his favourite word.

His pace increased and you clung onto him with every bit of strength left in you. Your mind felt foggy and you didn't know what took over you, you spoke up. "Suguru, let me ride you. Please." it was a weak whisper. He wouldn't have been able to hear you if it wasn't for how close the two of you were. He slowed down and carried you to the bed, placing you down before getting on. He made himself comfortable against the bedframe and tapped on his thigh, "There's nothing I would love more, love."

You weren't so sure if that was a mistake or not.

"Tired already? You've barely moved."

"So gorgeous, all f'me."

"Look at you, my cock-drunk princess."

"Want me to lend a hand?" he smirked. He had the 'genius' idea of tying your hands behind your back before you got on top of him. You definitely made a mistake with your suggestion. Your head was on his shoulder now. Your thighs felt like they were on fire. Every single movement made you cry out. He didn't help you out, either. His large cock only adding to your mix of pleasure and pain. He enjoyed this more than anything. Your struggle to take him and maintain balance riled him up even more. You groaned at his words and nodded into his shoulder.

"What was that? You're gonna have to tell me." you can't believe you almost forgot why you hated him so much. He grabbed your face by the neck and brought you to face him, inches apart. You bit your lip to muffle out your moans and rolled your eyes. He looked at you, waiting for you to speak. "Help me, Suguru." "Please," you added, before he spoke up, causing him to smile.

"Whatever you say, love," he whispered in your ear before gripping your hips and bucking his hips upwards. You gasped at the sudden movement and lost balance, falling back onto his shoulder as you cried out his name. He was close, and so were you. Your whines and moans of his name made him feel like his body was on fire. You had no idea how obsessed he was with you. And there you were, in front of him, breaking down because of him.

"Fuck, (y/n). You're driving me crazy." he pulled you up and looked at you, and you didn't dare to look away from him. No, if you did, you were sure he would ruin you. His words threw you over the edge as you tightened around him and came. He hissed at you and shot his seed into you. He held onto you as you clawed at his chest- riding out your high.

The two of you stayed in the same position for who knows how long. "I thought this was supposed to be an apology dinner." you panted out.

"Would you rather have that?"

"...no."

You let out a tired giggle before looking up to meet his eyes, smiling and pulling him into a simple, pure, passionate kiss.

"I still dislike you, though,"

“I wouldn’t pass a judgment so soon. After all, I’m not done with you yet.” he said, while his hands moved down your body.

———

part two??

#geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk geto #suguru #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #this is so hot please #i need this #Spotify

[ushys]

⸻ miles morales as your boyfriend (earth 1610)

a/n: omfg the chokehold this gif has on me- anyway you guys do not understand how much love i have for this sweet boy 🥹 deserves the world idc idc.

- fluff, no nsfw bc he is a minor, afab reader (lmk if you guys want gn, male)

MILES LOVES drawing you. you’re perfect in his eyes and he could draw only you for all of eternity and he wouldn’t complain at all. everything about you was beautiful to him and he made sure he captured every beautiful detail you have on to his drawings.

MILES is the type to send you cute (your favorite animal) videos on tiktok because he knows how much you love em and all he wants to do is to make you happy.

WILL introduce you to his family and is happy when he finds out how easily you and his parents got along. you got along with his mom so well that sometimes you’d visit their house and mostly talk ‘chisme’ with her the entire time (he gets jealous-)

AFTER an argument, he stops by your window and drops you off flowers with a little cute note apologizing. he doesn’t know if you would want to see him at that moment so he gives you time to cool off and give you some space. he replies immediately if you were to call or text him ready to talk again due to how much he hates wasting time not talking to you.

HE likes showing you off to anyone. his friends? yes. his family? yes. strangers on the street? yes. he can’t help it if he’s madly in love.

WHEN he revealed to you that he was spider-man, he was scared that you were going to be mad at him for keeping this a secret from him for a very long time. he thought that you were going to think that he didn’t “trust” you but when you were actually ecstatic finding out instead of upset, his worries all vanished as he smiled and hugged you.

WILL have a whole playlist dedicated to you. he likes to listen to that playlist when you aren’t with him, yk so he could daydream.

IS completely oblivious when you’re jealous. if you catch him talking to another girl who is clearly into him, you’d be upset in which miles would ask you about but you would just mumble “it’s nothing”. hearing this, miles thinks back to the entire morning wondering if he did something to make you upset. when you finally tell him, he quickly reassures you and says “i don’t feel anything towards any other girl who isn’t you. i love you and only you ma.”

IF it’s late at night and you can’t fall asleep, miles would come over with his spider-man suit on and picks you up, and swings to different buildings. then, you guys would land on a rooftop with a clear and beautiful view of the city at night and by the edge you guys would sit down, while miles pulls you in close to him, head on his shoulder, admiring the sight of the skyline. “it’s so pretty” you say. “not as pretty as you cariño”

MILES used to think that pet names were lowk cringey, but when he started dating you, everything changed. now, he calls you “mi amor” “baby” “my love” “cariño” “preciosa” “babe”

HE can not flirt if he wanted to flirt on purpose. he gets awkward and shy like 🫣🫣 this one time before you guys started dating, he wanted to make a move on you by saying “hey y/n, a-are you fr-from tennessee? cause you’re the 1 f-for me- wait no that’s not right, wait what was it again? i u-uh never mind.” and he scurried off before you could even say anything. “the fuck-“

WHEN you guys go on the train, he would pull out his airpods and give you one of them while you guys listen to one of his playlists (ahem the playlist he made for you but shh you don’t know that.)

IF you don’t do graffiti art, miles will take you to one of his secret locations and teach you how to draw certain things and praises you for trying your best. once you get better at it, you guys start going to his secret location more often and you guys just spend hours spray painting.

LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling with you. literally one of his favorite things to do with you. he loves just having you in his arms knowing you are safe and sound with him. your soft and warm skin making him wanting to fall asleep because of how comforting it feels to just have you there with him. what he loves the most is having your arms around him holding him close while his head lays on your chest, listening in to your heartbeat knowing you really are there with him and that you are his and he is yours.

TAKES random and silly pictures of you just to send them later to you after you guys hung out and texts you saying “this one is my favorite.”

HAS a picture of you on his lock screen and his home screen.

that’s all for today, im tired and imma go and day dream about this boy :p

#across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #miles morales #miles spiderverse #miles spiderman #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles x you #miles x y/n #miles x reader #earth 1610 miles x you #earth 1610 miles x reader #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles fluff #earth 1610 miles morales x you #nah imma do my own thing

[fallingdownhell]

hello! i was wondering if i could request a poly cyno x reader x tighnari where the reader is going through a tough time and is kinda burnt out. maybe where she tries to brush it off, but the boys catch on pretty quickly and then they comfort her? anyways, i hope you have a good day/night!!

-🌹 anon

Hey! Of course you can!<3

I don't have anything against poly ships, I do in fact have a few of them myself. Have I ever written for one? No, but I sure want to. Hope it turned out okay.

Thank you so much for your request, 🌹 anon

Content: poly relationship; written with fem!reader in mind, but can also be read as gn!reader; mentions of mental illness; self doubt; burnout; much comfort from the bois

Word count: 1,8k

Hope you enjoy reading<3

You were tired.

Your days studying in the Academya left you more drained than anything else lately. Although you were a good student, diligent and often praised by your professors, that didn't change anything about the heavy workload you put on your shoulders.

The days seemed to last for an eternity, while the nights were over far too quickly. You never felt like you got any quality rest.

While one of your boyfriends, Cyno, kept a close eye on you and made sure you took care of yourself, the other suffered extremely from the lack of contact with you.

You haven't really seen Tighnari for a few weeks, except for his one day visits to Sumeru city when he was in need for new materials. He would make it a point to visit you, but you were still so focused on your research, that you didn't spend much time with him.

Same with Cyno. While he was often times with you in the city, he rarely got to see you anymore either. Well, that's wrong. He did see you, but was the time spend with him? No, it wasn't.

You kept telling youself and your boyfriends that this was only a temporary issue, that you would soon be done studying in the Academya. Then you could finally give them all the attention that you have deprived them off until now.

And yet, two months after your last conversation with your boyfriends about this issue, there were still no signs of it getting better anytime soon.

You were working yourself to the bone, day in and day out. So it was only a matter of time until the stress would get to your head, poisining your thoughts.

You began to think about all the times you neglected Cyno and Tighnari, how you didn't even keep in touch with Tighnari back at Gandharva Ville via letters. He probably only heard about you through Cyno, meaning he had to rely on his words.

You couldn't help but feel bad, ashamed and guilty.

Your head then began constructing this idea... this terrible idea of your boyfriends. About how they started to resent you. For neglecting them, for focusing on your studies instead of them.

Thoughts began to bloom within you. Hlw they probably hated the idea of seeing you again, hating you in general.

Your hand that had been writing on a paper until a few moments ago, began to shake as silent tears began rolling down your cheeks.

You wanted to believe that it wasn't true. That this was just the stress getting to you...

But how could you, when it all made perfect sense? Of course they would feel this way.

Now that you thought about it.. you haven't seen Cyno at all the last two days. He usually came by every day, even just to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.

But... nothing. He didn't show up at all.

And as you realised that, the thoughts only became louder and more convincing.

'They already started separating from you, silently..'

'They feel they're not important to you...'

'You are no good partner to them..'

Those thoughts began to flood your mind as you set down your pen, tears continuing to fall down your face. That night, you cried yourself to sleep, as these negative thoughts kept pestering your mind.

...

The next day, Cyno saw you walking within the walls of the Academya and immediatly noticed that something was wrong with you.

He saw your red, swollen eyes and knew that you must have cried yesterday. The reason for it he might nit know, but that didn't matter. It was obvious that you needed him right now.

So, he talked to the Matras, gave them their orders and then set out to find you again.

He found you in a quiet corner in the house of Daena, reading some kind of book related to your studies, while you occaisonally sniffled and rubbed your swollen eyes.

Cyno approached you quietly, sitting down on a chair across from yours, his eyes fixed on your exhausted form.

You jumped a little, not expecting any form of company to disturb you. Once you recognise Cyno, you relqx a bit, but quickly tense up again, remembering what had happened the day before.

Cyno, of course, noticed that shift in behaviour from you.

"What's going on?", he immediatly asked, not wasting time with chit chat.

"What... do you mean, exactly?", you answered, trying to deflect, making it seem like everything was fine. Which, you failed. Because even if Cyno wasn't the best with feelings, he was perceptive.

"You cried. I can see that with only one look at you. So.. what happened?"

At his words, you wished to just slap yourself as you realised that you forgot to put on makeup, so that you could hide the obvious bags under your eyes. But that would have been only one part of the problem, anyway.

"Oh.. nothing much. Just... stressed."

"Stress? That's all?"

You nodded, not being able to look your boyfriend in the eyes. You knew that if you did, he would immediatly figure you out. Little did you know that by avoiding his gaze, he worried even more.

"You're hiding something from me.", he concluded. You sighed, but didn't give him anything further to work with for a few minutes. Then..

"It's just.. the stress is getting to me. To my head, exactly. It's been... a lot.", you told him in a low voice, not wanting to say anything more.

To your surprise, the next thing Cyno did was to just silently, without another word, stand up from the table and walk away. You didn't see were he was heading, but that didn't matter to you.

All your head needed, was right there. Your boyfriend walking away from you when you would have needed him the most.

You could feel the tears welling up again in your eyes, but this time, you forced them to stay in, not wanting to cry in broad daylight in front of your fellow students. But going home wasn't an option in your head either, so you tried to swallow the hurt and continued your studies.

Little did you know though, that Cyno was walking straight to the Acting Grand Sages office, not bothering in the slightest that he had just interrupted a seemingly important conversation with some other sages.

Alhaitham looked at him with his usual stoic expression, while Cyno explained the situation to him, requesting for a two weeks vacation for you amd himself.

After a few seconds of considering, Alhaitham signed it off, handing the documents to Cyno, whishing him the best of luck. Having achieved what he came for, Cyno headed back down to were you were seated before, glad that you were still in the same spot.

He approached again, but this time, you noticed him. And he wore an even more determined expression than he usually did.

"Cyno? What are you-!"

You got interrupted as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of your seat and after him, waking his way towarsa the exit of the house of Daena.

"Hey, stop. Where are we going?", you asked, weakly struggling against his grip.

"Visiting Tighnari.", he said.

"Wha.. but I can't. I still have to-"

"You don't have to do anything. I requested some time off for the both of us, and Alhaitham approved of it. We are going on a vacation, because Archons know that you need that, (name)."

After he said that, you were in no place to argue against him anymore. Your resistance against him grew less and less, until you completely stopped. He, in return, loosened his grip on your wrist a bit, but still held you tightly to him.

He made a stop at his and your house, to gather some stuff, mostly clothing, before you made your way to Gandharva Ville together.

The walk was mostly quiet as you were trying to figure out what to make of it. You were sure that they must hate you at this point, yet Cyno's actions clearly indicated the total opposite.

As you arrived at the base of the forest watchers, Cyno spotted Tighnari in front of his hut, talking to some other forest rangers.

The fox immediatly picked up on the scent of his two lovers as soons as you two entered the village. But he also instantly knew that something was up. He could sense that you were upset about something amd Cyno was worried about you.

He made quick work of the matter with the forest ranger, and as they began to depart, Tighnari already spotted you and Cyno walking towards him, so he waited there for you to.

"Hey..", he said in a soft tone, immediatly pulling you in for a long and loving hug as soon as you were close enough.

"...", you didn't say anything as you hugged him back tightly, which confirmed his assumption that something was definitely not right.

He looked over at Cyno, who motioned for them to go inside, which Tighnari gently coaxed you to do so with them.

"Do you want to talk about it?", Tighnari asked as you all were inside. But you didn't feel ready for that just yet, so you just shook your head slightly, gaze fixed on the ground.

"All right then..", you heard from the fox and the next moment, you were suddenly in the air, as your lover had picked you up and walked over to the bed.

The next moment, you were placed on the soft mattress, ine of your boyfriends on each of your side. You were completely surrounded by them, and suddenly, you felt safe.

Like a heavy weight has finally been lifted from your shoulder, and you could feel a single tear run down your face again.

Tighnari, who you were facing, brought one hand up to your face, softly carressing your cheek. He slowly leaned in, kissing you on the forehead.

In the meantime, Cyno, who was laying behind you, slid on hand down your arm, intertwining his fingers with yours once he reached your hand, as he slowly started to place light kisses on your neck.

In this moment, you felt so loved and cared for by your two boyfriends, you had no idea how you could have ever doubted their love for you.

You couldn't controll your tears anymore and you just let everything out that you had been holding back.

For the next few hours, you three just laid there, cuddling with each other, while Cyno and Tighnari whispered sweet and loving words to you.

You may not be able to talk about your troubles quite yet, but you knew that with them by your side, everything would turn out okay in the end.

Because you had each other. And now there was no doubt in your mind anymore..

... they did love you with all their heart.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact comfort #genshin comfort #genshin impact ship #tighnari x cyno #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #genshin impact tighnari #genshin impact cyno

[its-all-stardust]

Head Above Water

Matt Murcock/GN!Reader

3.9k

Summary: A month after Thanos turns half of all life to dust with the snap of his fingers, you find a man sitting on a bench in the rain, alone.

Notes: This is my first fic here, and to be honest, I'm testing the waters a little bit with it lol. I hope to write more fics for Matt and other characters in the future! My ask box is open and feedback is appreciated ❤️

Thunder claps in the distance, and you know the rain is only going to get heavier. Part of you doesn’t mind, despite the already-soaked legs of your jeans. Your small umbrella barely covers your shoulders, the occasional drip hitting you when you let it tilt the wrong way in your daze. You meant to get a new one ages ago, especially when the fabric started lifting away from the metal. But you never got around to it.

And now, you don’t care.

It’s been a month since the world ended. A month since you lost your sister.

A month since half the world—or half the universe, if what the news report you barely listened to is true—turned to dust.

And fuck, do you hope Lizzie turned to dust. Hope that she didn’t go down with the plane as it crashed in the middle of some town, engulfing everything in a fiery blaze.

You hope she turned to dust. You think about her last moments often.

Would she have been terrified if she noticed her limbs fading away before she ceased to exist? Or would she have been confused? Was she awake when it happened, or was she asleep?

Did she cry when the plane started to plummet?

Dust or fire, either way, she’s gone.

The rain feels nice, in a way. A chilling reminder that the world stopped and still stops. The streets are practically empty with so many people gone and the natural dislike of being caught out in a storm.

But it never feels like enough.

The world stopped, but it didn’t end.

Someone walks by on the other side of the street.

A month.

It’s only been a month, and you and everyone else are expected to live as if the worst tragedy in history hadn’t just happened.

You can’t go back to work. You were supposed to. But your days are consumed by grief after losing the only person you loved. How can you go back, pretend that it never happened, that you’re fine?

You’re not fine.

You don’t think you’ll ever be fine.

You don’t have a job anymore.

Your foot catches on something, sending you stumbling and pulling you out of your dark reverie. Rain spills down your back as your umbrella tilts forward. You don’t know what you tripped over, nor do you care very much. You adjust your umbrella and try to take another step forward, but stop when you send a cane clattering down the sidewalk.

The sight of it makes you pause, confused. Your state of mind slows any thoughts that aren’t of Lizzie. It takes a moment to realize you’ve stopped next to a bench. 

A bench with a man sitting on it.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly say. The cane must belong to him. 

You’re still not used to how empty the streets of New York City feel and have grown used to the lack of people running about, no longer needing to carefully avoid hitting others or having someone slam into you with abandon. You haven’t needed to avoid being in someone’s way for what feels like an eternity.

It’s been a month.

Shaking away the cloud of thought, you reach down, pick up the cane, and turn to the man, who hasn’t said a word since you ripped it away from him.

Holding it out, you wait for the man to take it, but he doesn’t move. Then you notice his dark glasses and what type of cane you’re holding.

The man is blind.

“Uh…” you start, stumbling over what to say. “Here’s your cane. Sorry.”

Like a statue coming to life, the man finally moves. Reaching for his cane, you set it in his hand.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, settling back into the bench. 

You should leave. You’ve done your due diligence and given the man back his cane, but your feet don’t want to move.

The man is soaking wet, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. He had no jacket or umbrella of his own. His hair is plastered to his head, and raindrops collect on the lenses of his glasses briefly before falling. He looks like a mess. You’re not one to judge because you looked much the same over the past month. 

Looking past him, you see the church.

“You uh…need help getting inside? It’s a little wet out here,” you finish awkwardly. You have no idea if he even believes in God enough to want to go inside, if he just came from it, or if this is just the first bench he found. Whichever it is, you don’t like the idea of him sitting out in the rain with not even a jacket to keep the rain off, especially not with a storm coming.

More thunder nearly drowns out the man’s answer: a short, simple “No.”

But still, you stand there in front of him, watching water drip down through his dark hair and land on his cheek.

“Here,” you say suddenly, mind made up. “Take this.”

The man looks confused, the first expression you’ve seen on his face. But he doesn’t say anything, just holds out his free hand, where you place the handle of your umbrella.

“What’s this?” he finally asks.

“An umbrella,” you say and start to turn away.

“Don’t you need it?” the man calls after you.

You pause and turn back. “Not anymore.”

Despite his frown, the man goes quiet and settles the umbrella against his shoulder, the rain now no longer able to reach his face. Water still drips down his hair as you turn to leave, walking a little faster to get back to your apartment before you end up like the man outside the church.

It’s still raining the next day, but it does nothing to stop you from going on your daily depression walk.

You couldn’t stay curled up on the floor of your apartment any longer, so you’ve taken to spending the day wandering the city streets, lost in thought, trying to wear yourself out so you can sleep at night.

You’re berating yourself today, one of the iterations of thoughts you cycle through these days.

How can you walk miles throughout the city for days on end but can’t make yourself go to work? You lost your job, and the landlord—the new landlord, after the old one turned to dust, is bound to catch on that your rent payment is late. You don’t think you can get evicted during a state of emergency, but you wouldn’t bet on it.

The world ended. Your world ended. You shouldn’t be expected to have picked up the pieces and moved on like everyone else.

The world never stopped turning, though. Part of you knows you can’t keep doing this forever—avoiding life and praying everything goes back to normal. It won’t, not with Lizzie dead. But if you don’t, you’re sure you’ll find some way to join your sister in whatever afterlife she ended up in.

Your foot knocks against something, and you stop. You wandered too close to a bench where someone sits, making you walk right into a cane extended into your path.

Not thinking much of it, you’re about to step around it when you recognize the man on the bench. You’re at the church again, and the same man as yesterday sits outside. Without the umbrella you gave him.

You’re afraid he’s been here since yesterday without moving, but you see that the t-shirt and sweats he’s wearing today are black as opposed to the gray he had on when you first saw him.

You can’t help but be a little annoyed that the man appears to have lost your umbrella. But as you stare at him, at the blank expression on his face, and the defeated slump of his shoulders, it reminds you of yourself. If you didn’t despise wearing soaking wet clothes, you’d likely be without an umbrella, too.

You want to help, but you’re not particularly inclined to give him another umbrella for him to lose, not since you just bought this one on the way home yesterday.

So you sigh and, unsure if the man even knows you’re there, sit next to him on his right side, immediately soaking the seat of your pants on the wet bench. Shifting your umbrella to cover both you and the man, you sit back and wait.

Silence surrounds you for long enough to congratulate yourself on buying a larger umbrella. Your right side, and presumably the man’s left, is being hit by the rain, but it’s doing a decent job of covering two people not pressed close together.

“What…are you doing?” the man finally asks, either just noticing your presence or deciding to acknowledge it. His voice cracks, making you wonder when he last spoke and how long he’s been in the rain.

“Waiting for the rain to stop,” you tell him as if it were obvious. You adjust your grip on the handle to rest it against your arm. You could be here for a while and want to be as comfortable as possible.

“...why?”

“You lost my umbrella,” you say, looking at him. “At least, I assume you did since you don’t have it, and I don’t want you to get wet. Well, any wetter than you already are.” You finish awkwardly.

A look of realization comes over the man’s face. He recognizes you now.

“I…forgot it,” he says simply, and you wonder if that’s true. Maybe he wandered out into the city without it on purpose, hoping the rain would either cleanse him or punish him.

You know the feeling well.

Silence descends again. So far, the rain hasn’t shown any signs of stopping, nor has the man seemed uncomfortable with your presence.

Then he shivers. Maybe you’ll bring him a jacket tomorrow if he’s still here. If you find one his size, which you can only guess at.

Next, the man’s hands start fidgeting with his cane, the most movement you’ve seen from him during your brief interactions.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

The man scoffs, a bitter smile on his face. “No.”

His voice shakes, and you watch as he swallows and clenches his jaw. You’re familiar with the reaction. You’ve done it a lot over the past month when you want to avoid crying in front of others.

You look away from his face and down to his hands. He’s clutching his cane in a white-knuckle grip with both hands, and it’s a wonder he doesn’t snap the thing in two.

Something comes over you then, and you don’t know if you should do it or if it’s even a good idea. But you give in to temptation, sitting up to reach over with your right hand and place it on the man’s clenched fists.

“Neither am I,” you say softly, pressure starting to build in the back of your throat.

The man freezes, and you’re afraid you’ve overstepped, crossed a line with this stranger that you had no business crossing.

You’re about to pull away when he shifts, one of his hands turning to grasp yours, clutching it like a lifeline.

Neither of you speaks, both trying to breathe through the wave of emotion welling up inside you.

Connecting like this with someone is…nice. Practically everyone around you lost someone because of the attack, but this is the first time you don’t feel alone in your grief.

You don’t know how long you sit like that, but you’re disappointed when you notice the rain finally stopped. Letting go of the man’s hand, you move your umbrella off to the side and close it.

You’re unsure where to go from here, what the next step is now that you’ve held hands with and found comfort in a stranger.

Glancing over at the man, you see his hand is still open as if waiting for you to take it again. You hesitate briefly before giving him your name.

It’s almost as if he comes alive then, taking a deep breath like it’s his first taste of air. He shifts, turning to face you.

“I’m Matt,” he says.

“Matt,” you repeat, a small smile on your lips. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Matt kept sitting on the bench outside Clinton Church. He’d been doing it since the day everyone died. First Karen and Foggy turned to dust in front of him. Then, when his head cleared enough, he went to the orphanage to look for Maggie.

She was gone, too.

And so he sits outside the church, going back to his apartment when he needs to. But he always returns. Matt doesn’t go inside, doesn’t pray. He’s just numb and doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

Then, one day, you appeared and gave him an umbrella.

And you kept coming back.

A week in, though the two of you barely spoke, Matt asked why you did. You tensed and hesitated long enough that Matt was about to try to take the question back when you quietly admitted, “I like sitting with you.”

He froze, not knowing how to react. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but the thought that you enjoyed his silent company never occurred to him. It was an odd thing for Matt to hear.

The fallout with his friends was only just recovering after his disappearing act. He had just learned to truly let the people who cared about him in. And with everyone suddenly gone, the idea that a stranger wanted to be around Matt was shocking.

Uncomfortable with the feeling welling up in his chest, Matt changed the topic.

“Do you always walk this way?” He’s mostly out of it while losing himself outside the church, but even so, he didn’t remember someone walking by every day at the same time like clockwork.

“I only just started this way,” you explained with a shrug. “Needed to change up my route.”

You went silent, and Matt could feel the melancholy pouring out of you.

He didn’t ask why. He could guess well enough why you’d be sad about changing a familiar walking route or why you never seemed to be going anywhere in particular. Instead, he stayed silent, thinking about how he liked sitting with you, too, and how warmth still radiated on his skin from when you held his hand.

As the days went on, you and Matt slowly started talking more, carefully avoiding mentions of friends or family. You started sitting with him for longer, and Matt began to expect you at 2:14 every day and looked forward to your warmth at his side.

But it’s 2:22, and you’re not here. Matt listens for your heartbeat, the sound of your footsteps on the concrete, but there’s no trace of you. He fidgets with his phone, having it repeat the time as if it’ll go back or make you appear. Ever since that first day, you were never late, and something in his chest—which he refuses to believe is his heart—constricts at the thought that something happened to you.

He wants to believe that you simply changed your route again. That maybe you were tired of him, didn’t want to be around him, and just didn’t know how to tell him. But Matt remembers how quiet you were yesterday. How your silence reminded him not of the unfamiliarity of a stranger but of a sadness barely held in check. Your breath hitched, and you let out a small gasp before cutting your visit short and leaving with a strained smile pulling at the corners of your mouth and a promise to see him tomorrow.

But you’re not here.

Matt’s conflicted. Should he try to find you? Does he have any right to? What would you think of him if he did? Should he stay and wait, see if you show up late? Wait until tomorrow before truly worrying?

Something is wrong.

The thought won’t leave him. What started as a scratch has turned into claws digging into his gut, trying to pull him forward toward—

Where would he even look for you?

Matt stops a few feet away from the bench. He hadn’t realized he had even started moving.

Where would he look for you? He doesn’t know where you live or the route you take. Finding you would be nearly impossible.

Except he hears the faintest trace of your voice. He’s familiar with the cadence, matching perfectly with the one in his memory.

Matt follows without a thought, crossing into the street and forcing someone to slam on their breaks to avoid hitting him with their car. He tries not to run, instead staying at a fast-paced walk. You don’t sound like you’re hurt. In fact, you’re…humming?

Matt forces himself to stop. The tune sounds familiar, but in his panic, he can’t quite place it before you stop.

Maybe…maybe you are fine, and you just… didn’t want to see him anymore, unable to find the same comfort in him that he found in you. His stomach sours at the thought, his face twisted at the small pain in his chest.

And then he hears something else.

“I miss you.”

Your voice is so quiet, and Matt is so far away he almost misses it. The pain in his chest eases, but now he’s less sure about what to do.

You’re clearly unharmed, but Matt remembers what you said to each other that second day.

Neither of you are okay.

And you wouldn’t have kept coming back for days if you hadn’t found some sort of stability, some familiarity in him.

Matt keeps walking. You’ve stopped talking, but he has a decent idea where you are. He doesn’t think you moved, either. If you do, Matt’s sure he’ll be able to follow you easily, especially now that he’s caught your heartbeat.

Within minutes, he finds you sitting on some other bench, hunched forward, holding something in your hands. There’s saline in the air around you. You’ve been crying. There aren’t any tears on your cheeks now, but he can tell your eyelids are swollen from earlier.

Matt stands there, taking you in, unsure if he should approach or walk by and hope you’ll say something. He licks his lips and starts forward, decided. When he gets close enough to the bench, Matt taps the end with his cane before sliding it along the ground to hit your foot.

Startled, you jerk your feet back as he says, “Sorry, is this seat taken?”

“Matt?” you ask, confused when you see him standing next to you. “You…left your bench.”

“I…did.” He was in such a rush to find you that he hadn’t considered that you would find it strange for him to be somewhere else.

“Why?”

Matt flounders for a moment, unable to tell you the truth, before repeating something you said to him. “I needed to change my bench.”

You nod in understanding, believing he could no longer sit somewhere that held so many memories—the reason you had to change your route.

You slide down the bench. “Sit.”

The usual silence falls between you as Matt takes the spot next to you, but he isn’t comfortable in it this time. You’re staring at the thing in your hands and chewing your lip. Matt shifts in his seat, unable to maintain his usual stillness. He doesn’t know where to go from here. He didn’t come up with a plan.

“Do you like this place?” you ask suddenly.

“The…city?” Now it’s Matt’s turn to be confused.

You laugh lightly. “The bakery.” You tilt your head back to gesture. “Behind us,” you say when you remember he can’t see.

Matt has been so focused on you that he blocked everything else out. Now, as he takes in the space around him, the scent of all sorts of baked goods wafting over him from the building only feet away. He doesn’t even need his heightened sense for it. It’s a bit of a wonder, he thinks, that it’s still open.

“I’ve never actually been here,” he admits. “Have you?” As soon as he says it, he realizes that the thing in your hands is a cupcake and that you’ve just come from the bakery yourself.

“Yeah,” you say softly, focusing intently on the desert. “It’s my sister’s favorite place. Was her favorite.”

With those words, you start crying. For the first time, you cross the unspoken line between you to not talk about whoever you lost. You both avoided the topic not to create a barrier or to keep from knowing too much about each other but because it was too hard. Your tears are evidence. But even still, you told him.

Matt is shocked but won’t stop you if you are ready to take that step.

“What’s her name?” he asks gently, careful not to pry too deeply. When your breath hitches, he reaches out, fingers brushing your forearm.

“Elizabeth. Lizzie. She was my best friend.” Raising a hand, you wipe your face. “It’s her birthday.”

Matt lets out a breath, practically feeling your pain. No wonder you’re so upset, why you left yesterday.

“Here,” you say suddenly before Matt can speak. “It’s a cupcake.”

“Isn’t it for her? Shouldn’t you eat it?” he asks, yet reaches for it anyway. You wince as you set the cupcake in his hand.

“I actually hate red velvet. It was always her favorite flavor. Uh…I heard it’s good, though,” you awkwardly assure, making Matt let out a soft chuckle.

“We’ll find out.” Matt starts peeling the wrapper off but doesn’t take a bite. Instead, he sits there, wondering if he should share with you what he lost. If he even can.

But he wants to try.

“When I was a kid,” he starts slowly, finding the words and prying them out from that place in his heart where he locked them away.

“I lost my dad and grew up in the orphanage just behind the church we sit at.”

You stay silent, letting Matt speak, giving him your rapt attention. It seems you’re just as shocked that he’s sharing with you.

“I didn’t really have anyone growing up. And then I met Foggy while I was in college. And Karen a couple of years ago. And then, a few months ago, I…found my mother in that very church. Maggie.” A fond smile finds its way onto Matt’s face. He hasn’t said any of their names in so long. It feels good.

But it quickly falls.

“They’re gone now,” he finishes. He doesn’t need to explain how.

You reach out, taking Matt’s free hand in your own and intertwining your fingers. He feels the warmth radiating from you, driving away the permanent chill in his bones.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing her,” you say.

“I know I won’t stop wishing they were still here.” Matt feels tears starting to well up in his eyes. But his hands are full, and he can’t wipe away the tear that slips down his cheek.

“Do you want to be friends, Matt?” you ask, a spark of hope filling you, making a small smile appear on your face.

The two of you weren’t yet friends, despite how much time you spent together on the bench. You never shared enough, never talked enough for it to happen.

Matt nods and squeezes your hand.

“I’d like that.”

And unbeknownst to the other, you both think that now that you’ve met, you’ll be able to get through the rest of this life together and, perhaps, be happy.

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #x reader

[theanimekid]

Betrayal/ The Veil of Shadow found the new ruler

Synopsis: Love is not eternal, betrayal; cuts deeper than a scar. Now you'll be harmed no longer. You'll be loved once more. Embrace destiny, walk the veil, and rule as a Dark Queen.

Warnings: Monster, angst, sci-fi, blood, betrayal, heartbreak, death,

Shadow owes its birth to light- John Gay

“Love isn’t soft like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.” ― Stephen King, The Body

A/n: This will be about two or three chapters long, so grab some coffee, a blanket, and a couple of tissues, make that a couple boxes of tissue

Chapter 1: The Beginning and End

You will never feel pain again. You'll never feel hurt or suffering. You… will never experience betrayal… for now it was the last time… the last straw.

The Strom fumed in spikes of crimson and light-blue lighting. The chaos of thunderstorms rumbled the sky, buildings of merged flesh and bone carved into each like a deathly art, screams were heard for miles, screeching of the bats not living nor dead. As their dark sparks waved into the night. You stood, outside of your castle, watching the depths below, your body shrouded in mystery and despair. Your veil flew with the wind, eyes cold-hearted, broken no more, vengeance craving for suffering. Skin darker than a shade of navy blue. The might of the doors opened slowly, and a black substance moved within. It was quick and swift. Faster than the human eyes can catch.

It soon emerged with its fingertips skimming fingertips. Its purple hood covered its top face. He spoke in a canny yet diabolical fashion. "My Empress... the time has come," It said, As it played with its fingertips rhythmically. You turned to look at your advisor, your eyes sharpened, lowly. " Already?" You asked in a heartache and pitied tone. " I'm afraid yes, a newcomer has been seen in the human world, young and frail as he is, yet more fearful than the rest." The hand movement swayed and urged as his words, Walked away from the highland view. past your blackened throne so lonely and purposeless. Your advisor walked with you down the very, elongated hallway. Your soldiers lined up and bowed to you. "They're the same as always, Urmas."

"They live to benefit you, my beloved empress, as they will always be." He replied in assurance. The two walked for what seemed like a while and reached the end of the hallway. You stopped. Urmas stopped with you. His expression spread with little concern for his queen. " Is there something the matter, my sovereign?" You still stood there staring blankly at the door. " I-I- feel like I've been here before."

Urmas Cleared his throat. " Can you recall, my sovereign?" You shook your head, " I don't know, but yet at the same time, it feels as though." You turned to your advisor, offering your hand to him. Urmas instantly clutched it and held it to his hand. You beamed maliciously, teeth in all, "let's go raise bloodstained nightmare on humanity and make a world for my own." He smiled back." As you wish, my sovereign." The doors opened to a giant glass sphere, spiraling out of different stirs and harmonies. The two of you walked hand in hand. As you got closer to your glass sphere, lightly grazing the outer layer. Urmas walked on the other side of the figure.

The sphere's outer layer moved fluidly, liquifying. Your hand sunk into the glass sphere. Your eyes dilated, turning into a purplish pink. Your vision became severed as you gaze upon the human world into the brightness of the city. Your eyes searched and looked unnoticed. Til you found a little boy with glasses wandering down a dark alley. Frightened and alone, tight where you wanted him. 

You planted his fear into his mind, it took only mere moments before he was nothing more than paste. And a small portal of flesh emerged from the brick wall, pulsating quietly like a heartbeat for an ear to listen. His body remained dismembered and fractured. His eyes plucked out of their sockets. Your eyes blurred again, returning to normalcy. With a sigh of satisfaction, you removed your hand from the sphere. Urmas clapped his hands in applause. " Another astounding work my sovereign," He feted. You walked away from the sphere and headed towards the door. You tumbled to the floor, holding both sides of your head, Your head began to hurt. Screaming in pain as your advisor tried to assist you. Your vision contradicted with light, a picnic on the hill, a man standing next to you with a loving gaze, his hand reaching out to you, calling to you…

You gasped as you raised your head. Your body trembling, your advisor slowly got you back on your feet. "My empress, are you all right?" He questioned. You sighed, bobbing your head left and right. " I-I'm fine... I just, need to rest my eyes." 

*Back on Earth*

One of his shadow soldiers, sat on top of a nearby building, looking down upon its people and others. The shadow sighed in questionable purpose. It's been the fifth time this past year. The visions He saw, his queen in danger, screaming and sobbing for help, it's like an unending loop. Constantly, she was reaching out to him, calling to him...

His master emerged from the wall, Beru and Igris followed soon after, and his black coast got longer and ragged. He stopped at the edge. Sung turned his gaze toward his summon. " Is there a reason why you're not doing your patrol?" The soldier got up and kneeled before his master. " Forgive me, my king... but it feels like something has been bothering me." He didn't even bother looking upon his master. Thinking he will not believe him." And what has been bothering you?" Sung asked. He collected himself and explained clearly and carefully, not to anger him, " Lately, since the past year, I have been seeing visions... visions that I wish I could ignore, but it just couldn't." Sung knelt to his soldier's eyes. " Look at me, and tell me what you saw." The shadow soldier took a deep breath and looked dead into his king's eyes. " I saw... a woman in white, she was surrounded by black waters, she was slowly drowning, but no end. I was going to save her, but she started to cry, sobbing, calling out your name, and others. She turned to look at me, her face was recognizable... my king... I believe... that our queen is alive and needs your help."

Sung's eyes slowly widened, and he can feel his heart wailing out of his chest. She can't be... he watched her... if she is then why...

Beru and Igris can feel the energy around him growing. With his body trembling, he gripped his soldier's shoulders. " Are you... you 100 certain that's..." He nodded in response. Sung can feel his whole world collapse around him. You were alive, alive and alone, scared. " Did you anything else from your visions? Or where she could be? Did she tell you where to find her?" He started asking a million questions. But his soldier only gave him one and a solution. " She said to locate the portal where no man or light can find. The opposite of all worlds... Find the seer. And that's all I can remember." 

The search for the seer begins.

Part 2 in the making👍

#solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jin woo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling manhwa #shadow soldiers #sung jinwoo smut #Sung Jin Woo x reader #sun jin woo x fem reader #solo leveling smut #solo leveling x reader smut #solo leveling spoilers

[brewstersbru]

Uh-oh have some more; i have a problem ! Huskerdust pt. 2 🕸️❤️‍🩹

It’s stupid. Really, it’s fucking insane, nonsensical, and the worst goddamn idea Angel’s had since he sold his soul. Still, though, he can’t stop humming the song.

“I’m a loser, baby…” He sings to himself, curled around Nug as he stares out his window into the neon lights and building fires that ever burn throughout the city. One thing he likes about the hotel- aside from actually having people who care about what happens to him, and a safe (and free!) place to sleep- is that he can’t see Val’s from his room's window. He can fall asleep without his sword hanging over his neck, without the constant reminder of what he’s allowed himself to become.

Before tonight, before Husk’s surprisingly uplifting little song and dance number, Angel hated most of what he was. Yeah he likes sex, but he doesn’t like being a whore. Doesn’t like being Val’s whore, especially. 

And it didn’t make anything better, not really. Not in any way that matters. But it was nice to smile at Husk and not be expected to put out for it. To dance and sing without a leash, and instead gentle fleeting touches to guide him through the steps.

Angel curls further into himself, Nug makes a soft squealing noise at the jostling. 

Husk was so careful with him. They were on the side of the goddamn street, next to a puddle of bum-puke (which Husk had prevented from getting on him!!) and Husk chose to be kind with Angel. What an idiot. What a gentleman.

They’d never work out, Angel has to remind himself of that when a shiver of a feeling he’d thought had long been fucked or beaten out of him by now works its way through his body. Warm and sugary. 

Both beholden to contracts they’d signed, pets to egotistic psychopaths entirely too eager to make them suffer. What now feels so comforting could very quickly turn into something agonizing and painful. Plus, Husk doesn’t want him. He’s made that abundantly clear by now. Sure he’s being nice now that Angel’s ‘respecting his boundaries’ or whatever but the boundaries are there for a reason. He doesn’t want Angel. So much that it makes him uncomfortable if he gets too close.  

Angel can feel his eyelids getting heavy, but there’s a jittering in his chest that signals a rough night. Shit, even with a night as good as this one, he can’t sleep in peace? 

He’s a loser. Damaged goods. Maybe he’s not alone, but fuck if he doesn’t feel it right now. 

Nug wriggles out from the lax cage of his arms and jumps off the bed. 

***

There are texts from Val waiting on Angel’s phone when he wakes up. 

He was right, it was a rough night. Only managed a cool three hours of fitful tossing before his alarm rang for the hotel’s ‘daily activities’. Say what you will about him, he’s nothing if not punctual (and Charlie had looked real pitiful when she asked him to come down in the mornings more, it’s really impossible to say no to her face). 

The texts are a long eternity of scrolling pink. Angel sighs at the few words he manages to catch as he makes his way to the top, “whore” (unoriginal), “bitch” (overdone), “ungrateful” (points for accuracy), and a whole myriad of other demeaning things that his exhaustion addled mind can’t be assed to fully compartmentalize.

He didn’t know how much he’d miss being called “baby” in that smooth low baritone until now; being called all the regular stuff makes his stomach churn in comparison. Or maybe it’s just who’s calling him what. He’d let Husk call him whatever he wanted if he kept being all gentle with him. Shit, it hasn’t even been a day and he’s already mooning like a whiny romance protagonist. Eugh. 

Looks like he’s got another long shoot today. He’s expected over in an hour or so, and Val had signed off with an “xoxo” which really means “or else”. God, he’s really punishing him for stepping out of line this time. Angel can feel a twinge of something in his back as he stands from his bed. Even with an enhanced body, fourteen hours nonstop took it’s toll, and it’s just going to get worse from here. He winces to himself and moves to rub at the sore spot. “Fuck.” He mutters, casting around for a decently sexy outfit so Val doesn’t have another thing to nitpick about. 

It doesn’t take long, after the first several years of coming home sticky and itchy Angel had curated his closet to be both sexy and comfortable. Every piece strikes that balance perfectly and nothing clashes when combined. He’s quite proud of it actually, but it’s not something that comes up often in conversation so he doesn’t really ever have the occasion to brag. 

Husk is- as he always is- shining glasses behind the bar when Angel makes his way down. One has to wonder if the dishes he’s cleaning are actually dirty, or if he just needs something to do with his hands. Angel would put a lot of money on the latter, no one here- even with all the alcoholics- could possibly go through glasses that fast. 

Husk’s eyes dart up to his when the stairs let out a sharp creak, announcing his presence. With a small, private smile he waves him over.

“Mornin’ Angel. Fancy a drink?”

It’s really pathetic how much Angel has to fight to not give in. Not to walk over and settle at the bar, letting that warm, even voice soothe all his decades old aches and pains. He smiles, but it’s tight and untrue. Husk glances down at his lips for a moment, frowns, then goes back to shining.

“Sorry, Kitty, got a shoot. Raincheck?” He hopes he says yes. What he would give to be able to see Husk at the end of the- long, painful and entirely exhausting- day and share a drink. He’s never been to heaven, never even tried thinking about what might be up there because, well, look at him. It’s not really his kind of place, is it?

Still, though, a drink with Husk at the end of today’s misery has got to be pretty damn close. As close as Angel can ever hope to get, anyways. Husk sets the newly polished glass down, and leans against the countertop.

“Sure thing. I’ll have a cosmo waiting.” Angel can tell he wants to ask, that he wants to say something about Val and the fact that this is the second day in a row Angel is going in for a long shoot. About the bruises that are still visible, having just started purpling against Angel’s skin. But he doesn’t, he bites his tongue and offers what solace he can. The feeling that bubbles beneath Angel’s skin at this realization is hot and dangerous. 

He nods, curt and with another stiff smile before scurrying off. He hates that Husk has seen him like this. 

“I can’t wait.” Angel mutters- more to himself than anything- at the cusp of the doorway. 

And it’s the gospel goddamned truth. 

***

It’s late, definitely later than whatever ballpark time Husk had in mind when he accepted the raincheck for tonight and though Angel knows Husk’s not really one to give much of a shit about punctuality-  when you have eternity ahead of you, ‘on time’ becomes pretty damned relative- he still feels like shit for keeping him waiting.

He’s fidgeting in the back of a sleek, pink limo Val had been kind enough to provide him when, at the end of today’s shoot, Angel had found himself frighteningly unable to walk. Of course, nothing is ever free in this unlife, so Val had taken a cut of his earnings to ‘compensate himself’ for having to cart Angel around, when, if he’d just done as he was told, he wouldn’t have gotten himself hurt enough to need it. 

Angel doesn’t want to buy into the idea, but Val has a point. He needs to be more careful if he’s going to continue being of any use to the hotel. As much as he pretends to be an uncaring freeloader, something itches beneath his skin at the thought of actually becoming one. He can pull his weight. He can pull his goddamned weight.

The limo swerves in front of the hotel and lets him off with little fanfare; Angel gingerly picks his way up the hill to the large front doors, wincing and trying to ignore the stabbing agony going on below his waist with each step. 

He doesn’t expect to see anyone when he walks in, it’s late, and they have ‘redemption’ exercises to do in the morning; even Husk has to have a bedtime and it’s late enough that Angel assumes the time has already passed. Hell, if Angel didn’t have work today he’d probably be asleep by now. 

And yet- as he tiptoes past the threshold, gently pulling the door closed behind him- Angel hears a low rumbling sound. The lights in the lobby are off, as expected, but there’s just enough ambient light to reveal a small lump curled up on the couch. Upon closer inspection, Angel realizes that the sound is purring, and the lump is Husk. 

“What the fuck…” He mutters to himself, as Husk’s purring is interrupted by what Angel can only describe as a hitching snore before resuming with even more force. His wings, which have been wrapped around himself in a facsimile of a blanket, tremble and shudder with the power of the vibrations. Angel has to strangle the coo that tries to escape his lips at the sight. 

Fuck, that’s adorable. He really is just a kitty underneath all that jaded bullshit, huh. Unwitting, Angel’s hand reaches out to coast over the fur on his head. Not quite touching, but close enough to feel the warm shudder of contented purring. It’s enough to make Angel forget about his injuries for the moment, too enamored with the rare sight of a pleasantly sated Husk in the throes of sleep. 

Alas, the bliss of the moment is short-lived, and before Angel can tug his hand away, Husk snatches it out of the air, scrambling up into a sitting position to glare at him and hiss. Okay, even his hissing is kind of cute, but that might just be Angel’s fucked up-ness talking. 

“Hey… Huskie…” Angel eeks, trying to pull his hand away from Husk’s bruising grip. His body’s already got its work cut out with his other injuries, it doesn’t need more paltry bruises to expend its energy on. 

Husk shakes his head and, after a moment, his eyes clear of the film of sleep. Once he recognizes Angel in front of him, he drops his arm, as if burned. 

“Fuck, Angel. Y’can’t sneak up on me like that.” Having regained his senses, he takes a moment to apprise himself of the state of Angel, eyes roving critically over each exposed patch of skin in the dim light. His expression gradually hardens as he becomes more and more aware of just how much damage there is to contend with. Angel, desperate to talk about literally anything but his bleeding body laughs hollowly.

“Yeah, sorry man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep before, though, did you know you purr?” Husk gives him a blank look at the obvious attempt at deflection but, after a moment, shrugs and scoots over, patting the space beside him on the couch. “I was aware. Must’ve passed out waiting for you.” He scratches at the chops of fur just below his chin as he speaks, seemingly unconcerned with what he’s just said. That he waited for Angel to come back so they could have their raincheck; that he waited up and Angel was late. 

Angel feels a little sick, the mixture of butterflies and sinking despair in his gut creating something entirely new, and entirely nauseating. He winces, but settles on the couch, curling into himself. “Sorry about that, Tuts. Got a little caught up at the studio… Y’know you didn’t have to wait up, right? We can always raincheck another day.”

It’s quiet for a long, excruciating moment, before Angel feels Husk’s eyes on him again. He can’t bring himself to meet them, instead staring further into the relative safety of the knotted wooden floor. Husk sighs.

“I know. I wanted to.” 

Oh. Oh, fuck. Angel is infinitely thankful for the fact that the lights are off because he can feel the aggressive flush working its way up his cheeks and knows it would be incredibly obvious, if it isn’t already. He coughs into one of his hands. 

“But… I was late…? It’s- it’s like four AM. I wouldn't blame you for just going to bed.” Angel isn’t really sure why he’s arguing with Husk about this, all he knows is that none of what has happened since he walked into the hotel has made any goddamn sense, and it’s making his stomach churn. Husk’s tail swishes, hovering lightly over the span of Angel’s hunched shoulders, not touching, but close enough to feel. 

Finally, after another long minute of silence, Husk speaks.

“I just wanted to make sure you got back okay.” Part of Angel swoons at the gentlemanly sentiment, the rest of him bristles at the implication that he needs that. That he can’t make sure he gets back okay on his own. That he’s weak. He whips around to glare at a startled Husk. 

“And you don’t think I can get myself back safely? Fuck you, man, I’m not some weak little damsel in need of saving.” He spits. Husk shakes his head, eyes wide at the vehemence in Angel’s words. His hand raises from his lap- perhaps to reach out, to comfort- but at Angel’s expression, he brings it to his own arm to rub at his tricep sheepishly. 

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Angel.” He scolds, brows furrowed, “I don’t think you’re weak, I just don’t want you to feel like you’re facing this alone.”

Angel scoffs and turns away. Evidently, that’s the breaking point for Husk, because he huffs and snarls, “What? I can’t care about you?” There’s a static to his movements, a ruffling to his fur that indicates real irritation. For some reason, that makes Angel angrier. 

“Not if you’re not fucking me! Not if you don’t get any fucking thing out of it! Fuck!” His wounds give a valiant, biting twinge at the end of his sentence, causing Angel to hunch over himself and press a hand against his side while he struggles to catch his breath. Through the haze of agony, he hears shuffling, and feels the couch straighten as Husk rises to leave. 

Good fucking riddance. Angel knew it was all talk. He knew it. 

His breaths remain ragged for a long time while he tries to get ahold of himself again. Enough, at least, that he can drag himself back to his room. He curses Husk, but more so he curses himself for getting himself into this situation in the first place. What was his one rule? Don’t get attached, don’t let them lure you into thinking they care because they never do, and you’re just going to end up getting your feelings hurt if you keep being stupid about it. 

The pain does not abate, even as his thoughts spiral ever downwards into despair. 

After an excruciating, indeterminate amount of time, he feels the couch dip again and, unwilling to face whatever well-meaning do-gooder it is this time, Angel shakes his head. 

“Leave. Me. Alone.” he grits, each word more painful than the last. The person does not leave.

“Are you gonna let me help you now, or is it going to be another fight?” It’s Husk’s voice. He’s back. Fuck, why is he back? The noise of confusion that bursts from Angel’s lips is entirely unwitting. He opens his mouth to offer a scathing rebuttal, but can only manage a soft groan. Husk scoots closer. He’s warm. Fuzzy.

“Just nod or shake your head. Can I touch you?” Angel takes a moment to think about it, but has to acquiesce to himself that if he doesn’t let Husk touch him, he’s going to be in agony for the rest of the night. With great effort, he nods. A heavy breath punches itself from Husk’s lips, fanning warmly across Angel’s head. 

“Okay. Good. I’m gonna lay you down so I can get a better look.” Angel desperately wants to make a joke about the phrasing of that, but doesn’t get the chance before he's being manhandled onto his back. It’s a familiar situation, but the usual spike of fear in his throat is noticeably absent this time. Angel doesn’t dwell on what that might mean. 

Husk works quickly and efficiently on Angel’s wounds, soothing him with a warm hand through Angel’s hair whenever the pain gets to be too much- punching miserable little sounds from him- and keeping his touches strictly clinical. When he finishes, he sits back on his heels with a sigh. Settling back at the other end of the couch and allowing Angel his personal space again. Angel’s eyes feel surprisingly heavy. He catches a soft look from Husk before they flutter closed. 

Husk chuckles, soft and low.

“See? Doesn’t always have to be a fight.”

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angel dust #husker hazbin hotel #husker x angel dust #i imagine angel would get aggressive when he feels weird #like why does this mf care?? suspicious #had a lot of fun writing this #still learning their characters tho #can u tell im a sucker for wound tending #husk is a kitty #pls enjoyyyy #brublurbs #cross posted on ao3 as always bc i crave attention

[quillandink333]

The Other’s Choice • Pt. 1

Credit to @winterxisxcomingx for the beautiful banner ♡︎

SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Faced with the harsh reality of Heaven’s steadfast opposition, the angel of joy is forced to make a drastic decision with gruesome consequences, but luckily she isn’t alone for long.

WARNINGS: Abrahamic imagery (obviously), pseudocest, assault, extreme heights, hunger

Part I • Part II • Part III

An eternity seemed to have passed since Emily had taken the irreversible dive from Heaven and begun her journey through Purgatory before finally manifesting in Hell’s scarlet sky. And yet there was such a long distance left between her and the ground that she still couldn’t make out a single thing happening down below. Her stomach was achingly empty—how many days had it been? It was impossible to know without the light of the sun to let her.

Her windswept hair obscuring her vision as she fell, she reflected on the moments leading up to this. They’d done it! Now even Sera couldn’t deny the reality proven by the unrelenting efforts of the Hazbin Hotel. Yet to Emily’s fury, the old hag was still too stubborn to allow word of it to get out even among the archangels.

The newly redeemed sinner, whose name she’d learnt was Sir Pentious, had appeared suddenly in Chastity Palace, somehow becoming the first human soul in history to bypass Saint Peter and the pearly gates. While the senior seraph didn’t take well to his arrival, the younger was over the moon, wasting no time befriending him and giving him the grand tour of his new, and rightful, home above the clouds. The conversations she’d shared with him were not only groundbreaking but deeply upsetting. The upsetting part, however, wasn’t the story of his noble sacrifice nor was it Adam’s brutal and shameless acts of fascism, but the fact that she couldn’t share any of it with the rest of Heaven.

Faced with this, she’d done the only other thing she could have. If there was no way for her to serve the sinners’ worthy cause in Heaven, she would simply have to leave. And so she would, but first, she’d penned a note to her elder.

Word Count: 0.8k

“I hereby vow never to return until the right changes have been made. This is not my choice, it is my duty. Thank you for protecting me, Sera. Goodbye.”

She’d never been so cold and blunt to anyone in all her aeons of life; it had destroyed her to write it, but soon regret would serve no purpose to her anymore. With a deep breath, she steadied herself and stepped with resolve toward the edge of the rainbow bridge. She closed her eyes.

Out of nowhere, all the world came to a screeching halt, the jarring loss of momentum causing her heart to nearly leap out her throat.

“I got ya.’”

A few seconds earlier, Lucifer had looked up through the glass walls of his new suite at the hotel just in time to see what could only be likened to a falling star.

Without thinking, he’d bolted into action, racing to catch the little one right as she’d started to descend past the city skyline. She could’ve been shish-kebabbed by the spire of a skyscraper if he’d taken any longer to spot her.

His heart was pounding after his miles-long sprint through the air. “You alright?”

Emily ogled up at her saviour with wide eyes, failing to realise he’d asked her a question for a good several seconds. “Y-Yes. Uh…thank you.” He didn’t look much like a demon, dressed in white from top to bottom with strawberry blond hair and a warm red gaze. If she didn’t know better, she would think this gleaming, six-winged stranger was a seraph like herself.

“You’ve fallen,” he inferred with frantic eyes and a heavy heart. “What happened?”

But her attention was already fixated elsewhere. As the angel of joy, she possessed a divine gift that let her feel the emotions of others as if they were her own. Down below, there were people on the streets, and every last one of them was miserable. It was so much worse than she could’ve imagined. There truly wasn’t an ounce of joy to be found here. She watched as one of the wretched souls was violently defiled by another before her eyes, their cries of terror ringing in her ears clear as day. The latter’s hand clenched around the former’s neck, and suddenly she couldn’t get a breath in, a scream trapped in her throat as she could do nothing but watch. She felt sick.

Lucifer sensed her rising panic and held her closer. “Hey, look at me, you’re okay,” he urged, cradling the poor, lost princess in one arm while cupping her colourless face in his free hand. She met his gaze, her own filled with the all-consuming fear she’d had the privilege of never knowing until now. She looked like a deer in the headlights, her expression like an arrow straight to his once broken and unfeeling heart. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside where it’s safe.”

Her frail arms clung to him with a vicelike grip as she nodded and tearfully hid her face in his shoulder. At once, he set his sights on Pride Castle and took off soaring.

#my writing #applewings #pride and joy #prideandjoy #pride & joy #pride&joy #lucily #lucifer x emily #emily x lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #emily the seraph #emily the seraphim #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel #quillcifer 🍎🪶

[hoodharlow]

Know You Get Sick of the Games 'Cause I Do Too

AN: part 2 🤭 everyone get ready to fight Jack

Requested? No

Warnings: Jack being a dumby, intense kissing, sad Miriam 🥺, and a messy teammate

Word Count: 3.7k words

Miriam twisted her curls into and held them in place with a claw clip. Practice dragged on for what felt like an eternity. She packed up the last of her things and texted her siblings she was on her way. She had a game in a few days in Jersey and the team was staying in New York for the week. She was going to stay with her team in the hotels but they allowed her to stay at her sister's place as long as she wasn't late for any training. 

Beto, her bodyguard for when she traveled to away games, held the door of their rented Range Rover. He closed the door and went to the driver's seat. 

“Can I put on my music?” Miriam asked.

“My rental, my music.” He said playing one of Metro Boomin’s instrumental versions of his albums. 

The drive from Jersey to New York wasn't that long. They arrived to her sister's place and she rushed to change. 

She picked out a pair of black trousers with a burgundy Vivienne Westwood cropped cardigan. She paired the look with her Versace platform boots and her vintage Vivienne Westwood pearl necklace with the gold embellished orb. Her phone pinged as she quickly did her makeup. Then it started to ring. 

Miriam groaned and grabbed her phone. Without looking at who was calling her, she screamed and put it on speaker, going back to her makeup. 

“Jesus,” Jack on the other end yelped. 

Miriam scrambled to pick up her phone. “Ohmygod, I'm so sorry, I thought you were one of my siblings. They were spamming my phone because I lied about where I am.” She said.

“Wait, where are you?” He asked with concern.

“At my sister's place but I told them I was on my way to our go-to Thai place.” Miriam explained as she shoved all her necessities in her heart shaped bag. 

“Oh, you're not free right now? Today is my day off.” He said, casually. 

He was also in New York for work. After his birthday he left for Boston. He was cast in an action thriller movie and they were filming in Boston. Miriam didn't understand the plot he explained to her in one of their three hour long facetime calls, but she found it admirable that he was venturing out into acting. 

“No, but I'm free later if you want to get dinner.” She said, locking her sister's penthouse. 

“Sounds good. Want me to pick you up?” Jack asked. 

“Nah, just text me the place and I'll meet you there.” Miriam said. 

“Okay, I'll see you later.” 

“Bye.” 

Miriam hung up and smiled to herself. It was her first time having real alone time with Jack. He and Miriam have been talking on the phone and texting non-stop since his birthday. Even though she told herself not to catch any feelings, she caught feelings. She couldn't help it. Jack was kind, ambitious, intelligent, compassionate and embarrassingly funny. How could she not develop feelings for him? But a part of her knew better than to act on them. He's never hinted at feeling the same as her and she wasn't going to risk their new friendship for something like her own feelings. 

As she walked out of her sister's place, paparazzi surrounded her. Beto shielded her as best he could while they got in the car. Ever since she started playing for and Racing Louisville, Miriam found herself more and more in the media. Now there was always some new article of her questioning her talent or some random picture someone took over while she was making a Target run. When she's in some major city like LA or New York City, there's a trail of paparazzi. Just yesterday JustJared posted about her adjusting her leggings when she was coming out of practice. 

It was a huge adjustment for Miriam. Growing up her parents kept her and her siblings out of the media. Since she wasn't modeling or acting once she was a teen like her siblings, she was able to stay out of the limelight and have a ‘normal’ life until college. Though the paparazzi only followed her around for a bit because she was hooking up with Shawn Mendes in 2018 and he would visit the Bay Area a lot while he was working on his album. When things ended between them, the paparazzi retreated after realizing that Miriam had a pretty boring schedule and she was actually taking school seriously unlike several nepo babies that wanted the ‘college experience’ at USC. 

While she waited for traffic to clear up, Miriam texted her siblings that she was on her way and they responded that they ate without her. She frowned and texted her dad that they left her to starve. Her dad left her on read but then she got several messages from her siblings calling her a snitch for tattling on them. 

“Beto we're not going. Can you believe the twins ate without me?” She asked him. 

He rounded the corner and opened the door for her. “Yes I can,” he said, guiding her back to the building. “It took you an hour and a half to get ready.” 

“You try making an outfit with a limited closet. I couldn't even steal from Kat because half of them don't fit. Have you seen her patas? They're huge.” She explained as they rode the elevator. 

Beto looked at her amused and remained quiet the rest of the ride to Kat's penthouse. 

Miriam thought about texting Jack, but she didn't want him to think that he was a second option. So she ordered delivery from a cafe a few blocks down. 

When her food came, she ate in her sister's closet, looking for an outfit. Could she just wear what she already had on? Yes but if she had known she was going on a date with Jack she would've packed accordingly. Was it a date? She thought to herself. Panic surged through her body. She placed her sandwich on its plate and looked for her phone. Jack had texted her earlier the address of the restaurant. It was pretty low key but still had a business casual dress code. 

Miriam paced around the closet. She always overdressed. But this time she didn't want to over dress and give Jack the wrong idea. Or for him to think it was something more when it wasn't. They were just two friends grabbing dinner and nothing more. 

*

Jack looked around to see if the coast was clear as they walked out of the restaurant. He and Miriam went to a hole in the wall Italian restaurant for dinner. Jack motioned Miriam to come out since there were no paps. Miriam linked her elbow with his as they walked the busy street. 

She instantly regretted not staying in the black trousers she wore earlier. She held on to Jack tighter, praying that his hotel was close by. They didn't want to end their evening just yet. It was still pretty early so they were going back to the hotel to watch some movies. 

“Cold?” He asked her. 

“A bit, but I'll survive.” She reassured him. 

They past a shop and it immediately caught Miriam’s attention. She steered her and Jack back. 

She gasped, “I haven't had Magnolia's in forever. They have the best banana pudding and I hate banana flavor anything. Their chocolate icebox cake is to die for.” 

She pulled her arm away from his and practically ran inside the bakery. Jack followed after her. He found her bending over the glass display looking at the rows of desserts. He silently groaned seeing her skirt ride up. And he was most definitely not thinking of pushing her skirt up to her hips and fucking her from behind. 

Miriam had made it abundantly clear that she only wants to be friends. Jack wasn't going to risk the good friendship they have to fulfill his needs. No matter what. He was going to be respectful of what she wanted. 

“Hold on,” Miriam told the cashier, bringing Jack back to reality. 

She took several things out of her bag. Jack figured she was looking for her wallet, so he got his out.

“Here,” he told the cashier, handing them his card. 

“Wait, no.” Miriam tried to argue as he shoved everything back in her bag. 

“It's fine.” He took her hand and led her to the back corner. 

“You paid for dinner and it was pretty expensive.” She pointed out. 

“Are you implying that I'm broke?” He asked in an amused tone.

“No, it's that…” she couldn't find the words to explain herself. 

“You're easy to mess with.” He laughed.

“Did you just call me easy?” She gasped dramatically. “At least buy me dinner first.” 

“I already did.” He smirked, not breaking eye contact. 

Before Miriam could reply one of the workers called her name. She walked over and thanked them when they handed her her order. She also dropped a few hundred dollar bills in the tip jar. She nodded at Jack to follow her out to a table outside. 

“You're about to have a mouth-gasm.” She said, pulling out a tub of banana pudding. 

“Respectfully, I'm from Kentucky. Banana pudding and icebox cakes are delicacies over there. I doubt they compare to what we have back home.” He said.

“Whatever, hater.” Miriam rolled her eyes. She took a spoonful of banana pudding and ate it. She moaned and did a little dance. “You're missing out.” 

Jack rolled his eyes in response. 

With that they continued walking to the hotel. The doorman opened the door for them and greeted them. Jack guided Miriam through the back hall, away from the small convenience shop and restaurant-bar where they could be seen and filmed. 

Miriam continued eating her pudding as they rode the elevator to Jack's floor.  She didn't finish it so she put it back in its paper bag. She felt Jack eyeing her when they walked down the hall to his suite. 

“What?” She asked. 

“You have pudding on your face.” He tapped the corner of his mouth. 

“Shit.” She mumbled, wiping the opposite side that Jack pointed to. 

“Here, I got it.”

He took a step closer and cradled her face. He swiped her cheek with his thumb and without breaking eye contact he licked it.

“Not bad,” he commented on the pudding. “Nothing beats–”

Miriam cut him off. She pulled his down to her level and claimed his lips. It took Jack a second to process what was happening, but he kissed her back with full force. He grabbed her hips and backed her into the door of his hotel room. He wedged one of his legs in between hers and let her slowly rub herself against his dark cargo pants. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as his hands rested on her ass. They slowly devoured each other, bodies melting into each other.  

The door opened abruptly. Miriam nearly fell back, but Jack caught her. He spun her and pulled her to his side. They were face to face with Urban. 

“Oh it's y'all, I thought it was room service.” He told them as they entered the room. 

“Nope just us.” Miriam smiled innocently. She held up her paper bag. “Is it okay if I put this in the fridge?” 

“Go ahead. The kitchenette is down the hall.” Urban answered for Jack.

“Thanks.” She nodded, making her way over. 

Urban to Jack with a knowing smirk. 

“Don't.” Jack warned him in a hush tone. 

“Hey, I'm not the one dry humping my idol's daughter in the middle of a hotel hallway.” Urban whispered back. 

“It wasn't like that.” He argued. “Now shut up Miriam's coming.” 

“I bet she is.” His best friend mumbled.

“Can I use your restroom?” She asked them. 

“My room has an ensuite bathroom. It's down the hall.” Jack told her. 

“Cool, thanks.” She nodded.

Urban walked to the small living room. One of the couches there was a CVS bag. He dug through it and pulled out a box of condoms. 

“You're going to need these more than I will.” He said, not being able to keep a straight face.

“You're a fucking ass. We won't need any.” Jack said defensively. 

“You better not hit it raw.” Urban put his hands on his hips. “You can get her pregnant and ruin her career. The US women's team is having trials for the next few months for their world cup.”

Jack sighed. “We won't need any because we're not having sex.” 

Urban placed the box on the table behind the couch where he was watching some action rom-com. “I'll leave them here just in case. Just let me know so I can have my soundproof headphones on deck.”

Jack flipped him off and went to his room. Miriam was leaning against the desk typing furiously, so he went to sit on the edge of the bed. She sensed his presence and put her phone down on the desk. 

“Sorry, my friend Shawn is in town and he wanted to know if I could record some back up vocals for him tomorrow.” she said, walking to him. 

“So…” He trailed off.

“I was looking at the movie list and they have Ready or Not showing in one of the channels if you want to watch that.” Miriam suggested. 

She was not going to bring up the kiss. She was embarrassed that his best friend almost caught them and it would be best if she avoided it unless Jack brought it up. Then she would be more than happy to admit that the kiss caused her soack through her panties.  

“Yeah, that's fine. Help yourself to anything in the mini fridge.” Jack nodded to the mini fridge as he kicked off his shoes. 

Miriam nodded, but she didn’t take anything. She sat on the other side of the bed and took off her white calf-length MiuMiu boots. She sat a bit closer to Jack but not too close. He passed her the remote and she put in the channel for the movie. 

The opening credits were barely beginning, so they hadn't missed much. As the movie progressed Jack and Miriam moved closer and closer to each other. They whispered among themselves their reactions to the movies. Miriam loved a gory movie but Ready or Not had real effects and it wasn't GCI like other movies. So when the families started exploding one by one she hugged Jack's arm and hid her face. She draped her legs over his lap. Jack held onto her knee as he flinched. The final credits rolled and they were still huddled together. 

“Man, that was fucking insane.” Jack chuckled.

“I love that movie. It's such a fun movie. Plus Adam Brody is a plus. He really solidified my type in men.” Miriam said. 

“Yeah, what's your type?” He asked out of curiosity. 

“I like them funny.” She shrugged, maintaining eye contact with him as she sat on her knees. 

“What else?” He leaned a bit closer. 

“Having brown curly hair is a plus.” She added.

Jack hummed in response. He held her cheek and brought her closer to him, closing the space between them. Unlike the kiss in the hallway. This one was slow and carnal. Miriam climbed Jack's lap and deepened their kiss. He gripped her hips and guided them on his crotch. His hands wandered down to her ass and he pushed her skirt up to her waist, getting a better grasp on her ass.

Miriam pulled back and took off her top, staying in a simple t-shirt bra from Aerie. She kissed Jack a few times then unfastened it from the front. She let it fall off her shoulders. She leaned forward to kiss Jack once more but he put his hand in between them.

“This is a mistake.” He said. 

Miriam's stomach dropped. “Oh.”

She scrambled off his lap and began grabbing her things. She haphazardly put on her bra and rushed out of his room, pushing past Urban as she rushed out of the suite. 

“Wait, Miriam.” Jack called after her. 

“Don't.” She said, wiping tears off her cheeks.

She pressed the elevator button, praying that it opened before Jack got to her. Jack tried to reach for her arm but she pushed his hand away. 

“Don't fucking touch me.” She sneered. 

He took a step back with his hands up in surrender. The elevator opened and she slid inside. As it closed she lifted her middle finger at him. 

•••

@'justjared: Canadian pop star Shawn Mendes and Racing Louisville FC's brand new soccer player, the daughter of actress Isabela Miller and retired soccer player, Miriam Dominguez-Miller were spotted out and bought in New Jersey leaving Ciao Ristorante. The pair have been formerly linked in 2018 and were spotted galavanting all over the globe. They haven't been seen together since early 2019. The 24 year old soccer player has been formerly linked to NBA player Kaleob Young and singer Kehlani. Click in the 🔗 for more.

•••

When Miriam said her friend Shawn wanted her to do backup vocals, she was apparently talking about Shawn Mendes. Jack was not one to lurk, but after seeing the paparazzi pictures of Miriam and Shawn, he got curious and read any article about them that he could find. He mainly found some paparazzi pictures from 2018 and articles of wondering who Miriam was before some gossip pages wrote about how she was the forgotten child of Mateo and Isabela. 

“Dude, you gotta let it go. You did it to yourself.” Urban said, taking Jack's phone. “Now pay attention to the game.” 

They were at the Red Bull Arena watching Racing Louisville play against NJ/NY Gotham FC. Miriam didn't start but in the second half she was swapped in. She was on the field for five minutes and already had grass stains all over her uniform. Jack averted his eyes away from her ass and tried not to think about how two nights before he was squeezing over his dick. 

He felt like shit. He didn't mean to say that it was a mistake but his mouth was faster than his brain. What he really meant was that he didn't want to have sex with Urban in the other room. Not because Urban would blab or anything, but he wanted Miriam all to himself. He wanted to be the only one to hear how she would come undone when he ate her out or how she would sound saying his name after three rounds. Jack cursed feeling his pants tighten around his crotch. He shifted in his seat and tried to pay attention to the game. 

Racing Louisville won 1-0. Miriam had scored, surprising no one. What did get the crowd going was that she did the Dominating-Dominguez. A special move named after her dad that very few players could do. Messi tried once for shits and giggles but cramped up. 

Jack tried looking for Miriam because she wouldn't answer his calls and left on-read. But fans kept approaching him for pictures. Security came and cleared up the area so Jack could leave. He saw Miriam on her phone with her siblings as he and Urban walked through the private hallway. He was about to approach her when Shawn Mendes swooped in. 

“That didn't take long.” Larissa said from behind Jack. 

“Hey,” he gave her a side hug, “I didn't see you in the field.” 

“I rolled my ankle during conditioning.” She said.

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Jack said. 

“Yeah, but that was yesterday's news. The real breaking news is Miriam and Shawn getting back together.” She said leaning against the wall. 

“Back together?” He asked curiously. 

“Yeah, they dated for almost a year. But Shawn dumped her ass for the whole PR thing with my girl Camila Cabello. Miriam was so devastated. I genuinely thought she was going to quit school and soccer but she went to Princeton for some summer program and came back good as new. Apparently they've been talking so I'm glad they're trying again. They make a cute couple, no?” Larissa asked. 

“I guess.” He shrugged. 

He watched as Shawn gave Miriam a bear hug then gave her siblings side hugs. Miriam then bid her siblings goodbye and approached Larissa. 

“Hey.” She smiled at them. 

Urban was closest to her so she hugged him first. She hesitated on how to greet Jack, but she decided to just go for the hug. He gave her a once over and walked away, nodding at Urban to follow him.

“Good game.” Urban said, giving Miriam a soft smile. 

“Bye, Urban.” She returned the smile. 

Urban jogged after Jack. Miriam couldn't hear what they bickered about, but she did hear that loud smack Urban gave Jack in the back of his neck. 

“That was weird.” Larissa commented.

“I wouldn't know, you've known them longer.” Miriam shrugged. 

“So tell me about Shawn.” She nudged Miriam's shoulder as they walked toward their sprinter van. 

“What's there to talk about? I met up with him at the studio and recorded two demos. We went to lunch with his team and got papped.” Miriam shrugged. 

“I thought you guys were getting back together.” She said.

Miriam made a face. “Oh god no. Plus what we had back then was nothing mote than friends with benefits, remember? He's a good collaborator. If I wanted to get into music, I'd hit him up.” 

“Must be nice to have mommy and daddy pay for my things so I can make as many career choices as I want.” Larissa said sarcastically. 

“I mean yeah, but who said I was? I'm just saying if. I have no actual plans. I'm committed to soccer.” Miriam frowned. 

“I know I'm just playing.” She laughed, pushing Miriam's shoulder. 

Miriam rolled her eyes and sat behind her. She pulled out her journal and her headphones. Teddy, Shawn's producer and songwriter, passed her some beats for her to use when they finished the studio session. She always encouraged Miriam to try out singing, but Miriam always said no. 

She had a lot riding on her shoulders. She wanted to continue her dad's legacy. He's not pressuring her to do so, but she was the only one out of her siblings that wanted to play. The twins followed their mom's footsteps going into acting and modeling. She didn't want to throw off any balance by just pursuing music. 

Miriam looked down at the new entry in her journal. ‘Platonik’ was scribbled at the top in her loopy writing.  She crossed it off and shoved her journal deep in her backpack. 

Soccer was her main focus. Nothing and no one was going to get in her way. Not even some Kentucky born rapper that she wished she hadn't caught feelings for. 

#jack harlow #jack and miriam #jack and miriam: soccer edition #jack harlow smut #Jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfic #Jack harlow imagine #jack harlow oneshot

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Michael Singer & the Heroic Happily Ever After

Author: darcydelaney

Artist: Marvfortytwo

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Dean/Castiel

Length: 27000

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Tags: The Lost City movie AU, writer Castiel, cover model Dean, Castiel POV, thinly veiled bitterness over finale, there was only one hammock, happy ending

Posting Date: October 19, 2023

Summary: When struggling writer Castiel Novak’s father disappears, Castiel inherits his cult classic “Michael Singer” book series. Following a disastrous first panel of a new book tour with Dean Winchester, the series’ cover model (and big-time fan of both the books and, well, Castiel himself), Castiel decides that he’s going to end the series by killing off the title character, much to Dean’s dismay.  Shortly after said panel, Castiel is kidnapped by Arthur Ketch, who has discovered that Castiel’s father had been using real supernatural folklore in his book series, and wants Castiel to help him figure out the spell for eternal life by using his father’s work. Dean sets out on a mission to rescue Castiel, win his heart, and maybe even save his favorite book series in the process.

Excerpt: To Castiel’s surprise, he’s already got a few hundred followers. He taps over to the list of the four accounts he’s following: his agent, Angel of Thursday Publishing, what appears to be a bot devoted to posting snippets of his father’s previous books, and— “Dean Winchester, keep that wig on your head before I staple it there.” Castiel looks up to see the series’ cover model standing in the doorway of the hotel suite, dressed in well-fitting jeans—too well-fitting, if Castiel is being honest—and a forest green henley, a long blonde wig clutched in one hand. His breath catches in his throat. Castiel has to give Angel of Thursday credit: aside from his hair, Dean is a picture-perfect depiction of Michael Singer, the lead character in his Michael Singer series. Well, not really his, he supposes; it’s his father’s, but just like his beat-up gold Lincoln Continental, the ramshackle house that’s seen better days, and the frankly incredible amount of debt racked up from self-medication, takeout, and failed writing fellowship application fees, his father had passed it on to Castiel before promptly dropping off the face of the earth. Following the adventures of Michael through all things haunted and heroic as he fights against supernatural malpractice and devastation, Michael Singer began as a way for Castiel’s father to pass the time when Castiel was an infant. He’d pour himself a cup of coffee, plop Castiel down on his knee, and bounce him up and down as he wrote, all while simultaneously dragging Michael to hell and back—more often than not, literally. “It’s itchy and it makes me look like a fucking Hemsworth,” Dean grumbles, tossing the wig to the side and dropping down onto the couch in Castiel’s suite. “Hey, Cas.” “H-hello, Dean.” Dean looks at him, mouth twisted into a crooked little grin, and winks. “There’s nothing wrong with looking like a Hemsworth, sweetie,” Anael says. Castiel would never say it aloud, but Dean looks better than a Hemsworth, with or without the absurd wig he’s been forced to wear. In Castiel’s opinion, Dean’s always looked better than a Hemsworth, ever since he’d first been hired as the Michael Singer cover model.  With a jaw that has Castiel’s gut doing somersaults and strong, broad shoulders that pair perfectly with a slim waist, as well as striking green eyes that can convey entire sentences, if not paragraphs, in a single expression, Dean Winchester must have been born to one day grace the cover of supernatural romance novels. He fits right in among the dramatic, stock-photo backgrounds and large, golden typeset of the titles on each cover, but now that Castiel’s in charge of Michael and his looks, maybe he could throw Dean a metaphorical bone. Maybe he could make it canon that Michael gets a much more practical haircut for monster hunting; surely that would give Dean a break (and hopefully put Castiel in his good graces).

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2023 #fic preview #2023 promo #deancas #destiel

[saneijeijei]

Boy and Dragon

William looked out of the carriage window with displeasure, watching as the city streets were replaced by fields and trees. He didn't want to go to another hunting competition, even though it was the opening of the season. All his friends stayed in the capital with their mothers and he was forced to travel with his family to a remote part of the empire.

"Why couldn't I stay at home?" William whined. "Count Grey promised Jacob to go to their summer residence so that they could ride horses together in the valley of eternal flowers. Rick's father promised to buy a continuation of the famous recordings of the knight of the white swords! What about me? I can't even participate in the hunt, because I'm still too young! What should I do there?" "Will, we've talked about this many times," Marianne sighed. "Your father is the emperor's assistant. He must follow him. And we, as members of the Porter family, follow our head. Anyway, when was the last time you attended an event?" "Well, uh… A year ago? All the recent holidays have been for adults only.." "That's exactly why the whole family attends the opening of the hunt." "Hey, father will let you hunt rabbits this year," William's older brother said, nudging him in the side with his elbow. "You can't spend your whole life reading boring books among the same bookworms. You also necessary to see something alive in your life". "Daniel!" "I'm sorry, Mother. I just wanted to cheer him up." "What, are you afraid that you won't catch a deer this time?" Vililam snorted. "What did you say?!" Daniel yelled. "Both of you! If you don't stop immediately, both of you will stay with me at tea parties all the time and won't even stick your nose out into the grounds!"

William Porter was the youngest child of Marianne and Cedric Porter. His mother was the only child of Count Terosi. And his father was the only boy in the family of Count Porter. They met at the birthday celebration of the Crown Prince - the current emperor. As the Countess once told, everything happened because his father was in such a hurry that he accidentally bumped into her and almost knocked her down. Because of the awkward situation, a dialogue began between them and soon they danced together at the ball.

And year later, they got married, despite all those terrible events that shook the tranquility of the capital.

His father married much earlier than his master, which, of course, was bad form and the cause of unflattering rumors about him. But the emperor only jokingly reminded him of this in the presence of Porter's family. William remembered that attentive look of tired red eyes that carefully examined him and his brothers and sisters. The emperor himself never married, rejecting any offers of his vassals to find a bride.

"Why doesn't the Emperor want to get married?" Will one day asked and his father. "Everyone gets married. Is there anything wrong with that?" "Willie, His Majesty has his own reasons for refusing all of them. Once upon a time, he was in love with Duke Eckhart's daughter." "The one that Leila pretended to be in order to take over the empire?" "Yeah. But the duke had another daughter. Not own." "Oh?" boy listened to his father with interest, as if he had learned someone's very terrible and dark secret. "Emperor was madly in love with her and the lady also loved him. But Leila brainwashed His Majesty… And she was gone. When he broke free of the spell and defeated Layla, he searched for the lady day and night, hoping that she was hiding somewhere and waiting for him to come for her. But days, months, years passed. But the lady didn't come back." "Is that why we attended the duke's daughter's wake?" "To my great regret, I am afraid that she is no longer among the living."

"It's probably sad. Hope that the person you love is alive, but realize that he will no longer be around?" William sighed. "If something happened to Mom, you have us. And the emperor has no one. He's very lonely." "Yes." Cedric ruffled his son's hair. "But let's not think about the bad, okay? Your mom will always be there. I'm doing my best to keep you all safe and sound."

The boy nodded, and then thought about it.

"But His Majesty's character is heavy. I wouldn't be able to make friends with him either."

Porter Sr. laughed.

"Why is that?" "He has stupid jokes." "Be lenient with him, okay?" "Like you? You always put up with his unfunny jokes, which he thinks are funny and laughs at them himself." "Hey, I laugh when you tell me jokes that I heard when I was your age? Show a sense of tact to His Majesty."

Since then, Porter's family has become a frequent guest of many state events. A year later, his father got him into an elite academy sponsored by the emperor. The entire elite of the aristocracy studied there.

Mom hoped that William would become a clerical worker or a minister. But Willie dreamed of becoming a knight and serving in the palace, although his parents and older brothers did not share his dream, saying that this was an extremely dangerous and harsh job. But he hoped that he would succeed and…

"We're almost there!" the sister shouted, seeing the residence in the distance.

The Porter family arrived in a small town a week before the hunt. As well as many other close houses to the crown, including the Duchy of Eckhart, the Marquis of Verdandi and many others. Thanks to the efforts of the imperial servants and aristocratic houses, the hunting grounds were to be ready by next Monday.

Brothers, having barely received permission, dragged William with them to train. They put leather armor on him so as not to accidentally harm him and gave out a small simple wooden bow. Daniel and Oliver, taking swords, began to fight among themselves, practicing blows. William, under the careful supervision of a teacher, trained to hold a bow and direct an arrow, which was very difficult and quite unusual.

The training lasted until lunch, until they were interrupted by a sister who called everyone for lunch.

"My mom and I took a walk around the city. And do you know what I heard in the boutique?" "My God, what could our chatty gossip girl have found out besides rumors?" asked the older brother. "Hmm! How rude! By the way, this is not just some kind of rumor, but a real urban legend!" the girl was indignant. "So what's the legend? A ghost? A tragic love story?" William interrupted the exchange. "I heard that a real dragon lives in the mountains. The last living dragon. And sometimes, he cries from loneliness that his howl can be heard from here!" inspired by an interested listener, young Porter enthusiastically told what she heard. "Can you imagine? A real dragon!" "Another urban fairytale to attract tourists, and you fell for it. Dragons haven't existed for a hundred years. Stop talking nonsense." Daniel snorted. "It's true! Ask mom, she'll tell you the same thing as me!"

William thought about it. A real dragon? He read a lot of books telling about the old days, when the whole earth was inhabited by mythical creatures. Including dragons. One of them was the founder of the house Regulus - the golden dragon. But the history of the extinction of this species has sunk into oblivion. Historians have each adhered to their own theory of why dragons did not survive to the present day. And the chance to see a real dragon gave rise to a burning curiosity in Willie.

"Dani, if catch a real dragon at a hunting competition, will it cost like a brown bear or more?" "What? What nonsense is this? Do you think there really is a dragon living in the mountains? Will, it's just city gossip. There are no dragons there, forget it. Besides, father told you that you can try to hunt rabbits. You're not allowed to leave the small beast zone, remember?"

William looked away in frustration. "What if I catch a whole dragon? Still?"

Daniel rolled his eyes.

All week, William has been training hard. He wanted to prove to everyone that he could catch something bigger than a rabbit and maybe it would be a dragon. And so. The long-awaited opening of hunting competitions. All the guests, ambassadors and diplomats gathered together to listen to the speech. The Emperor, as always, says parting words and wishes everyone a successful hunt. William grabs his bow and arrows and goes to the lands of small animals, overtaking his brothers. The teacher swears and asks not to hurry, because without him, he can't go there, but William jumps on the spot, asking to get ready as soon as possible.

Teacher just grumbles and slowly gathers. Seeing the younger brother's excitement, Daniel and Oliver offer that they will look after him while the teacher is getting ready. To which the man agrees and William, along with his brothers, goes into the forest.

But because of the banter and unsuccessful hits, William takes offense and deliberately shoots an arrow far, far into the forest. The brothers say to go and pick her up, which the boy took advantage of.

After finding the arrow, he did not return, but decided to go deeper into the forest to look for a bigger target. For example, a fox. After walking a few tens of meters, and hearing the screams of the brothers, William went deeper and, not noticing the root, stumbled.

Suddenly, a strange sound followed, low and very loud.

"Richard, I hope you didn't hit the Baron!" "Not he's on our right." “What? Then what was that sound?" "Maybe it's a white tiger that was brought by the ambassador from that small kingdom in the south?"

William fell silent in the bushes until he heard footsteps receding.

Trying to get up, his foot caught on something. “what? Scales?" Willie picked up strange pieces of golden scales from the floor and it was clearly smeared with something. "Where did the scales come from?"

After looking around, William decided to go a little further forward, when suddenly a noise was heard behind him. He barely had time to turn around when something heavy pushed him back to the ground and covered him with hot breath.

It was a dragon.

The idea came to my mind after re-reading several Kuro fanfics(@kuroneko1815). I decided to reread all the finished fanfiction and it just so happened that it was Kuro's fanfiction that went in order. And when I wanted to go to bed, the idea came to me: "What if?". Well, here you see the result of this "if".

#death is the only ending for a villainess #death is the only ending for the villainess #vadd #villains are destined to die #text #callisto regulus #fanfics #fanfic #vadd fanfic #ditoeftv fanfic #cedric porter #au

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn't die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 12/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Twelve: Middle Child

Tim came with me to get my cast off as promised. I felt queasy like I did all the other times, but I leaned forward and covered my face until the feeling passed. I traded my crutches for a cane, and Tim sat beside me as I gently attempted to stretch my leg. “Woohoo! Last one, Jason!” the doctor cheered. I cracked a smile. I liked her. She’d removed every cast I had from the accident. At first, it was because I thought she was pretty, but I grew to like her demeanor. She had a kid —a toddler— and it sometimes bled into her work. She sometimes baby-talked at me, but I didn’t mind.

“How many casts have you had removed?” Tim questioned.

“The long-arm one, the hip spica, and now this one,” Jason replied, “She’s removed all three. The hip spica twice, though… The bones in this leg wouldn’t heal together, so I had to get surgery which meant I was in this cast for another period. So I guess she removed all five.”

“That hip spica was a yucky one, huh?” the doctor replied.

“Yeah,” I replied. My body had been through hell, but it was healing. Maybe I’d never be the same, but at least I could train again.

“You can go as soon as you stop feeling yucky, okay?” the doctor whispered. I nodded. She left me alone with Tim, so she could grab a treat from her office.

“Jason, are you okay?” Tim questioned.

“Yeah… I’ll feel better in a second,” I replied.

“Does the idea of him returning to finish the job freak you out?” Tim questioned. I never thought about it. I thought about all sorts of things in the hospital, but the clown rarely ever crossed my mind. I wasn’t scared of him. He played a dirty trick and caught me off guard, but he wasn’t the threat everyone imagined he was. The clown was unpredictable, and that’s what frightened people. But I knew better. He had a sick obsession with Batman and was in eternal competition with Robin, but he hated me the most. He hated me because I had a bond with Batman. Batman was different when he was with me. Dick told me that all the time.

“I’m not scared of him. I might be traumatized by what happened, but it could’ve been anybody… Tim, all that Party City freak did was use my birth mom to lure me in and catch me off guard. I hate him for what he did, but it could’ve been anybody,” I answered.

“Is he part of your-?”

I looked up at Tim and shook my head. “I hadn’t thought of him until you asked… And I have no intention of getting revenge. I want to do something on such a large scale that Bruce has no choice but to look at me. I want Bruce to tell me he was wrong,” I answered honestly.

Tim patted me on the back. “I trust you, Jason… And I’ll be there to back you up with whatever you choose to do,” Tim replied.

“Tim, why do you believe in me?” I questioned.

The doctor returned with stickers. I picked one to humor her, and Tim got one for being a good buddy. We met Mr. Drake in the lobby, and he took us for ice cream. I know it wasn’t something Tim’s dad was accustomed to doing, but I had a great time. Janet met with us at the ice cream parlor. For a moment, I felt like we were a family. Bruce was supposed to be like that with me. He was supposed to be my dad, spend time with me, understand me, and-. I missed that more than anything.

Tim enjoyed his parents, and he needed that. "And then, Jason starts quoting the book from memory like it's nothing," Tim half-exclaimed.

It snapped me out of the momentary sadness I felt. "Yeah, but that's not half as cool as when Tim showed me how to develop pictures in a real red room. He's kind of a genius," I smiled. Then my phone rang… And it shattered the moment into a million pieces.

“Sorry, one second. It’s my older brother,” I mumbled as I stepped away to answer his call.

“Dick-.”

“Are you having ice cream with another family on a school day?” Dick questioned. I took my glasses out of my shirt pocket and scowled at him. “Don’t be like that… I’m checking in on you. I heard you got your cast removed.”

“Did Bruce ask you to follow me?” I asked.

Dick shook his head as he crossed the street. “No… But he did say you were mad at him. Can I borrow you for a little while?” Dick asked. I wanted to be cruel, but he caught me in a great mood. I grabbed my cane and met him a quarter of the way.

Dick was cautious once we stood close to each other, not wanting to be the first to start an argument. “Did you throw up this time?” Dick asked.

“Funny,” I rolled my eyes, “And to think I was gonna tell you how much I missed you.” Dick hooked an arm around my neck, nearly knocking me off balance.

“What’s it gonna take to get you home?” Dick asked.

“For Bruce to be normal,” I replied.

“What was your problem with Bruce?” Dick questioned.

“Not a good time… But I’ll tell you when my friend’s parents leave town for work, I promise. Oh, by the way, he’s a big fan, so you’re invited to have ice cream with us, as much as I hate the notion of you meeting my best friend,” I replied.

Dick followed me to the table, and I reluctantly introduced him. “This is my older brother, Dick Grayson. You might recognize him from-.”

“Haley’s Circus,” Tim interrupted. He was practically foaming at the mouth. I hate to say it, but I was jealous.

I swallowed my pride and ate my ice cream because there was no point in me being a spoiled brat about sharing my new brother with my old one… And it was worth the goofy smile on Tim’s face. It felt good to see him smiling. I felt how older brothers felt when they gave the perfect gift. It was nice being able to do something for Tim again. Besides, he’d always be my brother first.

#fic #catch and release fic #batfam #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #Tim Drake #Dick Grayson #Barbara Gordon #Sebastian Ives #Jack Drake #Janet Drake #Jason Todd Lives #Jason Todd-centric #POV Jason Todd #POV First Person #Tim Drake Has Issues #Tim Drake is Not Robin #Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore) #Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug #Alfred Pennyworth is the Best #Alfred Pennyworth Knows #Stalker Tim Drake #Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain #Jason Todd Has PTSD #Angst with a Happy Ending #Unlikely Friends #Injury Recovery #Emotional Baggage #Rage

[rose-tinted-vision]

Fic: 只为他 袖手天下 | For him, I can renounce the world

Fandom: White Cat Legend (大理寺少聊游）

Relationship: Qiu Qingzhi/Li Bing, Qiu Qingzhi & Yi Zhi Hua

Summary:

“I wonder what happened to you, for you to become like this?” You. Qiu Qingzhi thinks. You.

In which Qiu Qingzhi would do anything to keep the one he loves safe, even if it means ruining himself.

[read it on ao3] | also why isn't QQZ/LB a tag on ao3...

“Li Bing’s funeral procession got attacked on its way out of the city,” his men hurriedly reports, and Qiu Qingzhi’s blood runs cold. He needs to make sure that Li Bing is okay, he needs to know who it is who dared to attack the one he loves, he needs vengeance, he needs—

He digs his nails into his palms to center himself, forcing his mind to focus instead of jumping to conclusions. He is now a General, he has dozens of men at his disposal– but that would only put Li Bing in danger, if he mobilised so many men for him– it would only turn the attention of the Yong’an Elders onto him.

A pair of wild green eyes flashes across his memory, those words thrown around so confidently, “my blood can extend your life, so that you’ll never die!”

Yi Zhi Hua can help, he desperately thinks. He does not know what that demon finds so interesting in him, does not know if he would even answer the call, but it is the only idea he can think of.

Qiu Qingzhi drags his palm across his blade, ignoring the sting as he waits for what feels like eternity in the few seconds it takes for the demon to arrive.

His blood sings with the need to destroy, to crush whoever dared to insult Mr Li’s name.

“No,” he snatches his hand back as Yi Zhi Hua reaches for it, “help me to find someone. Kill the people attacking him, revive him, if he’s dead.”

“Why would I do that?” the damned cat says, though his eyes sharpen with interest, Qiu Qingzhi notes. He would be, it is the first time he has reached out to the other, instead of waiting for the demon to approach him out of boredom.

“Help me, and I'll play your game. I'll help you to find what you are looking for, or catch you again, whatever it is you wanted.”

“Qiu Qingzhi, begging for help! I’ll remember this day!” Yi Zhi Hua sneers, “Alright, since you asked so nicely, who is it?”

—

Please be okay, Qiu Qingzhi begs, spurring his horse to go as fast as she could– he would spoil her rotten later in apology– he can only pin his hopes on a flighty demon now, hope that his bargain was alluring enough for him to uphold his end of the deal.

He has not felt so afraid before. Qiu Qingzhi, who has been on multiple battlefields, who had to learn how to survive on the streets, who had fought and captured a feral demon cat, has never felt such all-encompassing fear before.

Fear that he would arrive to see Li Bing already dead, killed alongside the rest of the procession, or Li Bing with his neck slit open by the damn cat. It was a damn near suffocating fear, choking him from the inside out.

(Never did he imagine that he would see a white cat).

Qiu Qingzhi feels like throwing up.

He had asked for Yi Zhi Hua to save Li Bing, had not questioned his methods in his desperation for Li Bing to just be alive.

“Oh? How interesting, that’s a new expression, I haven’t seen that one before!”

Distantly, his alarm bells are going off– warning him that he is revealing too much in front of this demon, that this would one day come back to bite him– but he finds his composure slipping away until he is grasping at nothing, too distraught at the sight of the unconscious cat in front of him.

What has he done to his friend?

He had been so desperate to cling onto the silver of light in his life that he essentially ruined Li Bing. The only person who ever saw him as anything other than a slave, the only person who has shown him unfaltering kindness, who provided him with a shelter over his head.

He hears the demon scurrying off, crowing in delight at the discoveries he has made tonight, and still Qiu Qingzhi can only stare at the vulnerable state of his friend, whose fur was as white as his hair. So white that he nearly blends in with the snow falling around them.

Hair that had turned white prematurely– all because Qiu Qingzhi had been too late, too weak, too slow to protect Mr Li.

But because he is General Qiu, commander of the Jinwu guards and currently the fixation of a wild demon cat, Qiu Qingzhi composes himself with a shaky breath. He would have preferred to sit here and wait until Li Bing woke up and explain himself to the other, but he had summons that could not be ignored, and men to command.

(He had already revealed too much by running off at first sight of the news).

Qiu Qingzhi allows himself one last glance at Li Bing, and turns to leave.

His stomach churns with guilt as he makes his way back. Guilt that he was leaving Li Bing all alone in that state, guilt that he was all alone in this world now, guilt at his selfish relief that Li Bing was still alive, despite it all.

The urge to turn back and scoop the white cat into his arms and bring him back with him was overpowering. But he was under heavy scrutiny from Yong’an, and there were many who coveted his position, others who would stop at nothing to bring him down. He could not allow that, not with the Li family in ruins and Li Bing so vulnerable. Qiu Qingzhi would get to the bottom of this– the Zixu war, Yi Zhi Hua’s origins, and the extermination of the Li family– he owed as much to Li Bing and his father.

(He needed more power, if he wanted to be able to protect Li Bing).

---

@randomingoftherandomness - thank you for introducing me to this show and this ship haha

@wuxia-vanlifer - I finished the show!!! :>

#thoughts were being thunk about the entire... #how yzh turned lb into a cat thing #could be platonic if you close one eye #ok im too tired to write anything else in the tags #no thoughts head empty #white cat legend #rose writes #大理寺少聊游

[callmewhateves]

Here is the fic I am working on! Let me know if you like it so far :)

Part 1: Worn Out Places

After a few months in the detention center, the infamous twins Velvet and Veneer were finally released back to the world. As they stepped out of the detention center doors, what was left of their belongings in a duffle bag (which wasn't much more then a few outfits, makeup, bathroom necessities, and some money for food and transportation), the twins couldn't help but wonder what awaited them.

In the neon lights of Upper Rageous, the siblings looked almost as glamorous as they once were. Almost. Now, they wore more casual clothes. Veneer, standing by Velvet's right side, wore a dark purple beanie over his signature green swoop of hair; he loved to wear beanies before all his fame; Velvet hated it and made him stop. The sleeves of a penn blue hoodie were cuffed at his wrists to prevent the sleeves from getting in the way of his hands, the hoodie being a little big on him. Combat boots they had managed to bring with them to the detention center propped him up a few centimeters off the ground, a pair of black pants hanging just below the ankles.

Velvet wore a similar hoodie, letting the sleeves hang over her hand so only an inch of her fingers were showing as she grasped her bag. She wore a matching pair of combat boots and a black skirt that reached about halfway down her thigh. Like Veneer, she had refused to change her hair from her signature high ponytail.

After a few seconds, a black car pulled up in front of them, the trunk popping open in the back. Velvet started in front of her brother, tossing her duffle bag into the trunk of the car without a word. Veneer followed after her, setting his bag beside hers as she got into the car, slamming the door shut behind her. He sighed softly, closing the trunk with their duffle bags in it and walking to the other side of the car.

He opened the car door and slid in next to Velvet, who rested her chin on her hand and crossed her legs, staring intensely out the window. She had no intent of talking to anyone right now, especially Veneer. Ever since Mount Rageous, she had barely said a word to him, if not out of anger. He glanced over at his sister for only a moment, catching her sour expression in the reflection of the window. His shoulders sank and he leaned his forehead against the window, feeling the car lurch and began to move.

Velvet had never been one to compromise. Ever since she was a kid, things always had to be her way or she would throw a fit. Veneer tried his best not to get caught up in her whirlwind of temper tantrums, but as the siblings grew older, he found himself caught in the middle of her tornado of anger and frustration. It never was easy. He wanted to say something to her; to apologize to her for the hundredth time. But she would never listen to anyone when she was upset.

The car drove through the fluorescent neon lit city of Mount Rageous, illuminated words and logos speeding past the window faster then he could read. Slowly, the city of Mount Rageous disappeared behind the vehicle, turning into miles of open valley and ocean. Bergen Town couldn’t be too far from where they were, maybe another hour or so. The uncomfortable silence in the car, interrupted occasionally by someone driving past or blaring music in their car, managed to stretch an hour-long trip to an unbearable eternity.

It was dusk, the sun casting a soft glow over the land that was somewhat similar to the neon lights of the city they were used to. Veneer's lips softly curled upward into a tiny smile. He had never really seen the sunset, the sky-scraping buildings and artificial lights blocking out any good view he could have. The sun continued to set at a snail's pace, and Veneer found himself starting to doze off, the movement of the car combined with the smooth roads lulling him to sleep.

Veneer was woken up by the car jolting violently forward, his body being thrown into the back of the shotgun seat in front of him. He groaned softly, getting back up in his seat. His gaze met Velvet’s agitated glance. “Put on your seatbelt, dumbass.” She mumbled, turning her attention back to the window. He pursed his lips and quickly reached over to put on his seatbelt, silently praying the driver hadn't noticed. He looked out the window to see what had caused him to almost be flung across the car. He noticed a dramatic shift in the smoothly paved road they were on moments ago, to a broken, pothole covered street. The car jerked and bumped over every depression and stone, Veneer locking his seatbelt into place to ensure he didn't go flying again. How long had he been out for? It couldn't have been more then 15 minutes. The sun was now just barely a sliver over the horizon, the last bits of daylight fading quickly. A sign ran up to his window, Veneer barely able to catch what it said. In bold, colorful letters, the sign read ‘Welcome to Bergen Town!’. The sign was made of wood and had obviously been hand painted by big and small hands alike, multiple sizes of handprints around the frame. Old fashioned brick stores and homes began to come into view as they went deeper into the town, apartments and bakeries and small businesses dotting the street.

The detention center had set the twins up to live in Bergen Town temporarily, until they could get back on their feet at least. As run-down and cheesy as the town was, it was better then what could’ve been awaiting them. The car came to a rolling stop in front of a gigantic tree that grew in the middle of the town, the streetlights on the sidewalk casting an eerie glow on its branches.

The sun was now void of the sky, only flicks of stars and a silver moon left in its place. Velvet and Veneer got out of the car, stepping onto firm ground for the first time in hours. The driver got out as well, revealing himself to be a tall, gray, serious looking Bergen. He popped open the trunk, the siblings grabbing their duffle bags from the back. The bergen closed the trunk abruptly as soon as they got their bags out, turning and getting back into the car.

As the Bergen sped away, Velvet scoffed in disgust and turned toward the apartment complex, eyeing it suspiciously. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper with the address of their apartment, squinting to see it in the dim light. Veneer joined her side, looking at the slip of paper and the apartment in front of them. This was it. Velvet held the palm of her hand upright, not tearing her eyes away from the paper. Veneer looked at her hand, confused as to what she wanted him to do. After a few seconds, Velvet glanced at him and rolled her eyes. “Key,” she demanded. Veneer realized what she ment and dug into his pocket, pulling out a silver key and placing it in her hand. She snatched it from his fingers and walked up to the door of their new home, inserting the key and turning it. When she heard a click, she turned the handle and swung the door open, walking inside with her belongings. Veneer quickly followed after her, hurrying inside and shutting the door behind him, setting down his cargo at his feet.

The apartment was bigger on the inside, a doormat that welcomed him under his feet, plain gray carpet, and pale blue walls. To his right was a small living area with a couch, a dark brown coffee table, and a TV mounted on the wall. Just behind the living area was a small kitchen with a fridge, stovetop and oven, microwave, several cupboards and drawers, marble tiles, and an island that had a built-in sink.

He walked in after velvet, taking in the apartment. It reminded him vaguely of his childhood home in the suburbs, back when things were simple. Velvet walked down a hallway to the left of the kitchen, opening each door to see what was inside. Veneer followed, peering inside each room. The first room to the left was a quaint bedroom with a full sized bed, a rug, a bedside table with a lamp, and a closet. Velvet walked in, turning on the light and throwing her bag onto the bed.

She sat down on the bed and said, “I call this one,” as if testing to make sure she got the comfiest bed. Veneer stood in the doorway, a small smile on his face. “Fair enough. You going to bed Vels?” He asked. She got up and gave him a sarcastic smile before slamming the door on him. Veneer’s smile disappeared. She was still mad at him. He sighed softly, muttering “Goodnight, Vels,” before turning and starting further down the hallway.

The room next to Velvet’s was a small but modern bathroom. Not a bedroom. He gently closed the door to the bathroom and went to the next door on his right. He opened it. It was another bedroom, almost exactly the same as Velvet’s. He turned on the light and stood in the doorway for a few moments. His eyes scanned over the plain room; it looked depressing and empty, not like when he was famous. He went back to the front door to retrieve his bag, stopping only momentarily to take off his boots. He didn't want to disturb his sister more then she already was. He set his boots by the front door and grasped his bag, carrying it back to his room and throwing it down by the door. Exhausted, he turned off the light and laid down in the bed. As he did, he heard something crinkle underneath him. He quickly sat up and turned on the lamp, looking at the source of the sound. An envelope that had ‘Veneer’ written in green marker on the front. He carefully opened the envelope and unfolded the letter inside it.

‘Dear Veneer,

Hey, it’s Floyd. I know you must be tired, so I’ll try to keep this letter short. It’s been awhile since I’ve last seen you, and I hope you and Velvet have been doing well since then. I hope you guys like your apartment. Clay and Viva tried to pick one you two would be most comfortable in. Anyway, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to call me. I left my phone number on the back. Text me when you guys get settled in.

Sincerely, Floyd.’

Veneer’s eyes would scan the letter slowly, his eyes darting from word to word. He turned the letter around and silently memorized the number scribbled on the back and set the letter back down, slowly getting up and retrieving his phone from his duffle bag. He opened his cell phone to tons of unanswered notifications, but he didn't have the energy to check them. Right now, he had only one priority before he fell asleep. He went into messages and inputted the number on the back of the paper into his phone, adding Floyd as a contact. He typed,

‘Hey Floyd, It’s Veneer. Me n Velvet love the apartment and r settling in nicely.’

He hesitated before hitting send, reading over the message at least ten more times before his exhausted brain told him it was good enough. He hit the arrow then set his phone face-down on top of the letter. He reached over and turned off his lamp, laying his head down and closing his eyes.

[kafka-ish]

DERRY, MAINE | r.t.

richie finds out who the girl he’s been seeing is

word count: 1.1k

warnings/included: angst-ish

a/n: based off tyler the creator’s WILSHIRE. don’t know if i’m back. trying a new writing style. feedback is always nice. 

-

the sharp sound of FUCK erupts from richie’s mouth when his figure collides with another one. you’re annoyed at first, but once you see his face you’re able to keep your temper. something saccharine leaves his lips--an apology--he’s saying, Jesus dollface, if i’d known something as pretty as you were in the area, maybe i’d come here more often. now you’re blushing; wondering if you should tell him you’re not from around here. 

“god, of course not. they don’t make ‘em like you near... so where’re you from? surely a pretty face like that has a strict dad to get home to.” a lanky finger pokes the underside of your nose. if you knew richie tozier any better, you’d figure he’d be calling you a rose. but you don’t know richie. you don’t even know his name. you have to muster up the courage to ask him that, but he’s the first to cut to the chase. “what do they call a face like yours anyway? s’pose i could just call you gorgeous...sweetheart...mine” he takes extra care in saying that last one clear as day. but it’s cloudy outside--forecast calls for rain. he notices this and offers his jacket before opening the door to a record shop. 

he’s a local there; you’ve never stepped foot. he makes a bee -line for the vintage rock section and waits for you with nirvana in his hand, hendrix in the other. 

“is there something you go by?” you realize this is the first thing you’ve said other than telling him your city of residence--bangor (’shit! mom, pops, and i go down there during the winter’). you didn’t even apologize after the run -in. 

“i got the ‘rents calling me richard, but i’m richie on my off days.” 

“are you working today?” he laughs because you catch on quick.

“awh, not with you here next to me. i’d call off any day if that’s the case... hey, how ‘bout a number to go with your name?”

so you’re talking now--you and him. he asks you what things you like and if he’s on that list. he says it again, and again, and you’re at his parents’ place when he’s wondering when you guys will Just Date. 

this is the fifth time you’ve been over. the first, you watched a movie, and it would continue like that until the third. your criterion watchlist slowly deteriorates. movies are replaces for newly cultivated feelings for the person sitting next to you. he’s flipping through films like they’re playboys at the check -out lane. “i’m so tired of this french shit.” it bores him how the way intricately laced bodies don’t do it for a porn addict. “you pick.” you say okay and thirty minutes in, still no one has said anything. richie turns to you and watches your eyebrows furrow. he has that face that suggests he’ll make a move, say something. but he doesn’t. you’re the one to break the silence. 

“we don’t have to watch this.” your eyes are on his. 

“nah, baby, i want to.” but he’s still looking at you. he hasn’t checked the screen since he caught sight of the stray freckle on your cheek. you tense at this. baby was never on the list; nicknames typically vary from sweetheart or gorgeous. it’s never this intimate. there’s tension in the air that’s broken with a kiss. richie’s lips are on yours but he doesn’t go any further than this. 

“i’m seeing someone,” you say, quick. richie’s face falls for eternity. his heart was just pushed off a cliff. 

“shit, i had no idea.” 

“it’s fine. it’s not serious.” but it’s serious to him. his heart just got seriously broken in the matter of minutes. seconds. milliseconds. “i’m into you, though.” these words got him smirking. his curls bounce in a bliss. “i’m into you, too.” 

you still keep up, showing up at his place on the regular. it’s down -low and you were skeptical at first, but now it feels normal. you’re wearing his shirt and his hand holds yours. 

eddie gets on him for missing two game nights in a row. but richie doesn’t care because he’d rather be here, next to you, than here having conversations about the color of bill’s new girl’s underwear. 

denbrough’s got a new girl. it’s all he’s been talking about for the past few months. she’s great. everything about her’s got him hooked. she’s his bait. her lips are the most perfect shade of red and she kisses like she knows how to. she’s got these big eyes that look great especially when--

“yeah that’s enough. thank you.” 

stan mumbles something under his breath about how she’s probably just average and this is just the first time bill got a girl in his pants. 

none of the losers have ever met her until the next game night. ben made a comment about how he hasn’t seen richie in forever, It seems. and eddie goes on about how he’s been ditching the gang; You’re a traitor. 

“in my defense, i had a hot date.” not actual date. but they would get dinner, he would pay, and his eyes would linger on lips. his fingers itching to feel that warm graze. 

“yeah right.” / “what does she look like?” / “did you get to third base?”

richie’s friends become a crowd; asking what she looks like; is she a good kisser; do you think you’ll bring her? 

but she’s already been brought. you and bill enter together. richie’s jaw drops. 

a whistle; eddie’s mouth a circle. your dress is tight; it hugs your hips just right, and falls just above the knees leaving little for bill and his friends’ imagination. 

fuck, bill, how’d you score one like that? is what richie would’ve said if he weren’t stunned with silence and it hadn’t come out of stan’s mouth instead. and bill doesn’t know whether to be flattered or to punch the boy he calls a friend. ‘nice one’ is the line he opts for instead. 

“how ‘bout another round?” richie’s already dealing out the deck conscientiously--his strategy so he doesn’t have to make eye contacr with the girl he had his arm around last week.

“you got a sadistic streak, tozier,” says eddie confidently, who wins that round later.

it’s later when richie calls and you answer as you’ve been doing regularly: “hello?” you answer in the nonchalant voice that he loves to hear and it takes him all the restraint he can muster to stop himself from walking out that door. 

“hey.” his heart pangs and around his throat snakes an invisible chain cutting off any ability he once had to breathe. 

“richie!” you say, as if it never occurred to you why the phone was ringing in the first place, that you were bill’s date. your finger coils around the landline wire. your lips fold and bite into a smirk. richie hears your breath smiling from the other line. richie, with his sharp intuition, knows. 

the phone clicks goodbye. 

#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier fic

[actuallysaiyan]

Kinktober Day 7: Nipple Play(I Just Wanna Make Love to You)

warnings/kinks: nipple play, smut, teasing, breast worship, kinkiness, kissing. pairings: Raditz x Fem!Reader word count: 1.2k tag list: @beneathstarryskies, @ricflairdrip20, @witchofcustom, @loki-love, @xailem, @the-eternal-sunflower

When Raditz first came to earth, you were just as frightened as everyone else. But somehow Goku had managed to get him to be more calm and docile and eventually Raditz came to live with you. You were the only one with a spare room. Goku’s been your best friend for so long, so you figured you could do him a solid and house his brother.

But what you never expected was to fall in love with this brute. It started off pretty rough, with the two of you often butting heads. It made Raditz so angry and frustrated whenever he tried to get used to life on Earth. But he got the hang of it pretty quickly. He became accustomed to the things that this planet had to offer and he soon fell in love with you too. It was so explosive when the two of you finally got together.

The first night was amazing. He took you out flying and showed you all his favorite places to go. The city looked  beautiful from the sky. He made you laugh the whole night, and when he brought the two of you home, you couldn't hold back any longer. The two of you collided in a mess of tongues and fingers and passion.

From then on, Raditz realized just how much you mean to him. You are this wonderful woman who makes him feel so warm inside. Lately, he’s been trying out all kinds of different things with you. It’s only normal that he would want to experiment a little bit. It was very arousing to have the big Saiyan pluck you up and have his way with you. His kinks are expanding as he tries different positions and different scenarios with you. The more you let him take what he wants, the more he discovers.

And in turn, you discover new things about yourself. You’ve been becoming addicted to him playing with your nipples as you fuck. Raditz catches on pretty quickly to what’s going on. He listens to the changes in your moans and the way your body reacts to the stimulation he provides. Raditz finds exactly what makes you tick and he uses all of these special moves on you.

Tonight was no different. He has you on the bed, all curled up in his lap. You look so pretty tonight, in that cute little dress. Raditz was hard even before the two of you entered the bedroom. His lips keep pressing on yours, and his tongue slips between your parted lips. You moan as the wet appendage rubs against yours, and your eyes flutter closed.

One his hands keeps you cradled close to him. The other one begins sliding down to your tits. You let out a soft gasp when he pushes his hand up the skirt of your dress. Raditz smirks when he notices you aren’t wearing a bra. It’s exactly like he planned this. It’s almost like you read his mind too, or maybe you were anticipating this. 

“Were you expecting this?” He asks, and he begins rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

Your breath hitches in your throat, “M-maybe!”

He chuckles before removing your dress completely. Your cheeks burn when you’re exposed to him, but Raditz doesn’t even care. He will do whatever he pleases. Both of his hands cup your tits, squishing them together. This makes you both giggle, but yours soon turn into moans when he lowers his face down to your chest and flicks his tongue against one of your perked nipples. Your fingers tangle immediately in his hair, earning a grunt from the Saiyan.

“You want this so bad, don’t you?” Raditz chuckles, and he watches you as he leans back in to suck on your nipple.

“Y-yes! Fuck yes, I do!”

He smirks against your skin and licks you once or twice. Your brain is so foggy with lust right now, you can’t even think straight. Words fail you as he begins switching from one nipple to the other. Your fingers stay buried in his wild mane of hair.

“You’re so fucking cute, you know that?” You let out a sob at his words. You feel your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Shut up, Raditz.” You whine, but he only chuckles again. He loves getting under your skin like this. It turns him on so much.

Finally, he removes the little panties you’re wearing. He brings them up to his nose, and takes deep inhales. You watch as he shudders and takes another whiff of your panties. Something about your scent just drives him crazy. He tosses them aside when you let out the softest whine. Raditz adjusts you on his lap, and he parts your thighs so easily.

“Use your words now,” Raditz begins. “Do you want my fingers or my cock?”

You think about it for a moment, “Your cock, please.”

Raditz smirks, “You’re so desperate. I love that about you.”

He holds you up with one arm as he shimmies his way out of his pants. His cock strains against the fabric of his underwear. You can see a small stain where his cock was leaking. All of this is turning you on even more. You whimper as his fingers toy with your pussy for a few seconds, only for him to pull away to take his cock out of his boxers. Your mouth waters as you see his rock hard cock slap against his abdomen. Raditz begins stroking his cock with pride, a smirk spread on his face.

“That’s my good girl.” Raditz praises. He lifts you up with ease, and slowly gets you to sink down on his cock.

The head prods your hole for a second before it begins to split you completely. You whine and pant as the rest of his thick cock slides into you. Without another word, he leans down to capture one of your nipples into his mouth. All of this makes you cry out, and your juices begin dripping down his balls. Raditz has you exactly where he wants you to be.

“Take my cock, baby. I know you can do that for me.”

With another hard thrust, he is now completely balls deep inside of you. Your little walls flutter around his impressive length as your little pussy gets used to his size. Though it has been a while since you’ve first been intimate, taking Raditz always needs a little adjustment time.

Soon, he begins to pump into you so fast. His hips snap against you as he ruts into you like a crazed animal. His lips are still latched firmly on your nipple, switching to the other whenever it feels good to him. Pleasure builds quickly in the pit of your stomach. You’re already so close to cumming, and he hasn’t even been fucking you for so long. But this build up has made you so desperate and needy for him.

“So close already, huh?” Raditz teases, but he doesn’t mind. 

“P-please don’t stop.”

He fucks you harder with even more passion. The lips on your nipples don’t stop, instead he quickly switches back and forth between each breast. You shudder and shake as the pleasure becomes too great and you fall off the edge. With a loud cry, you cum hard. Your vision cuts to static as your walls pulse around Raditz’ cock. Your legs can’t stop shaking as well, and it makes him feel so cocky to get you to cum like this.

“Hold on tight, baby.” Raditz huffs against your chest. “We aren’t done.”

#bacon.writes #kinktober 2022 #kinktober day 7 #raditz #raditz x you #raditz x reader #raditz x y/n #raditz x fem!reader #dragon ball #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #dragon ball smut #dragon ball z smut #dragon ball x you #dragon ball x reader

[kohakhearts]

❛ please don’t leave me. ❜

This with satogou would be so cute 🥰💯

Thank you for doing it if you get round to it!!! ❤️

“please don't leave me” wc: 2576 read on ao3 here

They’re deep in northern Sinnoh when Ash starts sneezing.

“It’s n-nothing,” he says between chattering teeth. “Let’s keep looking.”

Pikachu, nestled in the front of his jacket, shoots Goh a look he can only really describe as mildly threatening. Not that he needed Pikachu’s confirmation, but the message is more than received.

“We could come back another day,” he says, carefully. “Snowpoint City is pretty close to here, right?”

“But it’s a beautiful day. Why would ya waste the chance?” He sneezes again and pats Pikachu’s head apologetically. “Sorry, buddy. I think your fur got up my nose.”

It’s true that the weather is perfect for Pokémon-catching today, and that the unpredictability of the northern climate may very well mean it will be weeks before an opportunity like this presents itself again. And Goh feels fine—he suspects Ash is feeling the chill a bit more deeply because of all the sleep he’s lost recently getting up early in the morning to train with his team. 

Which is a…weird thought, because this is a quality of Ash’s he has always admired. When does tenacity morph into something more hostile to the eternal optimist espousing it? He files that away for later contemplation.

Finally, he heaves a sigh. It billows out in front of him dense and fluffy, like the wings of a Swablu.

“If you’re sure… But you could go back without me, too. I don’t really mind.”

Ash’s expression hardens. “You can’t stay here alone. If it starts to storm, you’ll be trapped. Let’s stick”—he sneezes again—“stick together. ‘Kay?”

“Well…okay.” Goh eyes him dubiously as Pikachu chitters in mild disapproval. “But if you need to go back, just say the word.”

Really, Goh should know better, but he doesn’t want to lose his chance to catch Pokémon he otherwise doesn’t see much. It’s only a few hours later when Ash collapses against a tree and his legs give out on him that Goh realizes it’s a lot more than a budding cold.

“Pikapi!” Pikachu pushes himself up in order to press his nose against Ash’s face, while Ash raises a weak arm to pat his head—or push him away—and mutters, “’M fine, Pikachu, don’t fuss.”

Goh picks his way over the snowbank between them and glowers down at him.

“You are not fine,” he snaps. “I thought you were going to tell me if you felt worse! You need to—”

He stops abruptly, as he feels a snowflake land on his nose. When he lifts a tentative hand in the air, more flakes than he can manage to count dissolve on his palm; some of them sting against the exposed skin between his glove and the sleeve of his jacket.

Ash groans. It sounds more as if he is in pain than irritated at the sudden turn of the weather.

“Look, let’s just—we can make it back to the Pokémon Centre, okay? Let me help you.”

Goh steps forward, but has to stop before he can reach a hand down to Ash as a sudden forceful gust threatens to knock him off his feet too. He grits his teeth and looks down at Ash and Pikachu, his frustration melting into alarm almost immediately when he sees sweat beading his forehead beneath the brim of his hat.

“Okay, Goh, think,” he mutters to himself. “What’s the quickest way back to the Pokémon Centre…?”

He stops as he sees Ash fumbling for one of his Poké Balls. A sense of immense stupidity washes over him when it opens up to reveal Dragonite, who immediately leans down to pull her trainer back up to his feet.

His grip remains on her even once he is standing, clearly the only thing keeping him upright. His other hand comes up to pat her arm weakly in thanks. “’S’not too far to fly,” he promises. “Not a blizzard yet, but ya never know. C’mon, Goh.”

It’s the sound of his own name that finally forces Goh to approach. Ash doesn’t climb on Dragonite right away; the fierce trembling in his legs tells Goh he ought to do so first, so he can pull Ash up after him. It isn’t easy, but they manage, and once Dragonite lifts off from the ground, he slumps against Goh’s back and sucks in a deep, rattling breath.

“Sorry,” he says, very quietly. “Cold.”

Goh swallows hard against the lump trying to form in his throat. “Yeah. It’s okay. We’ll be there soon.”

It thankfully is the truth, too, for in only a handful of minutes he makes out a faint glow of red beneath the flurry of white. The snow has picked up somewhat, but Dragonite doesn’t let it deter her. For Ash’s sake, Goh supposes; there is no doubt of the fierce loyalty he has earned from all his Pokémon.

She lands just in front of the Pokémon Centre, breathing hard from the exertion. When Goh helps Ash come down from her back, he falls against her and does the same.

“Thanks a bunch,” he tells her. His words string together, barely perceptible through the heaviness of his fatigue. “Take a good rest, ‘kay?”

Goh takes Ash’s arm and wraps it around his own neck to keep him standing after he has recalled Dragonite. Pikachu peers up at him from where he is nestled in Ash’s jacket with wide, pleading eyes.

“Inside,” he says with a small tug to get Ash’s feet moving. “Almost there.”

Neither of them speaks again until they make it through the door and Nurse Joy greets them. Her smile falls as soon as her eyes land on Ash, however. In no time at all, she is there helping Goh guide him to a chair.

“Caught in the storm?” she asks, sympathetic.

Ash has slumped over in the chair and gives no response, so Goh tells her, “I think he’s sick. I thought… He said he wasn’t, but the cold…”

Nurse Joy hums. She kneels down in front of Ash and Pikachu, peering up to get a look at his face.

“Ash?” she probes. “Can you look at me? It’s Nurse Joy at the Snowpoint City Pokémon Centre.”

He lifts his head slightly, though doesn’t seem completely aware of her. Gently, she reaches a hand out to touch his face, lips turning down in a concerned frown as she does.

“I think you’d better stay the night,” she says. Turning back to Goh and standing at her full height, she adds, “Some warm fluids and rest are the best solution. He’ll probably be feeling better in the morning. Let me find you a room for the night, all right?”

Despite his best efforts, the lump lodged in his throat has gone nowhere. His voice is very small when he says, “Okay.”

She turns away and makes her way back to the counter. Goh only watches her a moment before a feeble “Pikapi” draws his attention back to Ash and Pikachu.

Ash reaches a hand up to stroke Pikachu’s head. It is shaking so badly he nearly misses. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, Pikachu. I’m okay s’long as you are.”

Goh can only manage to stand and watch, uncomfortably aware that there’s nothing he can do. He should have insisted earlier. He should have noticed sooner than he did. He should have…

“Ash,” he suddenly remembers. “Ash, you should leave Dragonite with Nurse Joy. She’s probably weak from flying through the snow.”

Ash pulls his hand back away from Pikachu and places it over the Poké Balls strapped to his belt. But he does not take Dragonite’s off; his fingers twitch over top of it, as if defensively.

“Dragon types don’t do well in snow,” Goh reminds him. “She might have some frostbite or something. You’re not in any condition to do anything about that yourself.”

Ash recoils slightly. Upon closer inspection, Goh sees that his eyes are glassy; his teeth are chattering too much for him to speak.

At that moment, Nurse Joy returns with a room key, which she hands off to Goh. She smiles kindly at them both.

“Is there anything else you need from me? I was already preparing some soup, so I’ll have it brought up to you once it’s ready.”

“Ash’s Dragonite flew us back here. She seemed tired, so…”

Nurse Joy nods in understanding, then turns to face Ash. “I can take a look at her, Ash.”

Ash’s hand wraps around her Poké Ball, but he doesn’t take it off his belt. “Too cold,” he mutters. “They’ve gotta stay in their balls.”

Goh frowns. “C’mon, Ash, we’re at the Pokémon Centre. It’s perfectly safe here.”

After a beat wherein Ash does not move at all, Pikachu reaches down to pry his hands away from Dragonite’s ball. The reaction is immediate.

“Pikachu! Stop!” He tries to get his hand back in position, but is shivering so violently he doesn’t quite manage before the ball clatters to the floor. His lips thin and he lets out a little hiss, but Goh stoops down to pick it up before Ash can even think of it.

“Just a quick check-up,” Nurse Joy promises as Goh wordlessly passes Dragonite’s ball off to her. “She doesn’t even need to come out of her ball for it. I’ll send it back up with the soup. Why don’t you go get some rest?”

She turns away before Ash can respond, but he doesn’t seem keen on doing so anyway; his head is bowed, hands braced in trembling fists against his knees. Pikachu crawls up from his lap to his shoulder and rubs against his cheek. He doesn’t relax even a bit, which seems just as concerning to Pikachu as it feels to Goh.

Goh leans down to offer Ash his hand. A long moment passes before Ash reaches up and grasps it; Goh releases his held breath in a relieved sigh and tightens his hold to hoist him up to feet. It is effortful work, but they eventually make it to the room Nurse Joy assigned them to. A testament to her charitable insight, it is not far from the front at all.

While Pikachu jumps down and rushes for a bed immediately, Ash stands at the door a moment, swaying slightly on his feet. Goh takes him by the elbow and directs him to follow Pikachu. He sinks into the mattress and wraps his arms around himself. In spite of the warm roof over the head and all the wintergear he’s wearing, he is still shivering.

“Why don’t you take off your jacket?” Goh suggests. “You’ll overheat if you leave it on.”

If anything, he just wraps his arms around himself more tightly. He takes in a deep breath and pushes himself up on the bed so he can lean against the headboard. Pikachu jumps up on his lap and settles down there, apparently with no intention of leaving anytime soon.

Goh sighs. “That can’t be comfortable. Come on.”

“Cold,” is the whining response he gets.

“That’s just— It’s because you have a fever, Ash. Your brain is telling you you’re cold but your temperature’s actually higher than usual and you don’t want to make it worse, so…”

Before Ash can protest further—as Goh can tell he wants to, even as he lacks the energy for it—they are interrupted by a knock on the door. Goh opens it to see a beaming Nurse Joy. She pushes a tray with two steaming bowls and Dragonite’s Poké Ball toward him.

“I hope you’re both getting comfortable,” she says cheerfully. “If you need anything at all, don’t be afraid to ask. It’s quiet tonight, so I don’t mind helping out!”

Goh accepts the tray, careful to position it so that the fine trembling of his hands doesn’t result in spilled soup. He forces a smile on his face. “Thanks a lot, Nurse Joy. We really appreciate it.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” Her eyes slide briefly to Ash, but she must not see anything too concerning, because then she steps back and says, “Good night!”

When the door closes again, Goh is quick to find somewhere to set the tray down. He hands Dragonite’s Poké Ball back to Ash, who immediately relaxes once it is back on his belt.

“Thanks,” he manages after a moment. “What smells so good?”

Under any other circumstances, Goh would have rolled his eyes at that, but Ash’s renewed interest in food is so relieving he instead finds himself smiling a bit, genuinely this time.

“Soup,” he says. “And you can have some as soon as you take off your jacket and everything.”

Ash grumbles about a bit, but eventually sheds his winter clothes and drops his backpack on the ground beside the bed. Though he doesn’t look happy about it, Pikachu vacates his lap and curls up beside him instead.

Goh passes him one of the bowls. He wastes no time in digging in.

“It seems like you’re feeling a bit better already,” Goh remarks.

“Hm?” Ash swallows, blinking. As the comment registers, a guarded look crosses his face. “I guess. I don’t really like the cold.”

“That feels like an understatement,” Goh says before he can even really think about it. He regrets it as soon as he sees Ash’s shoulders hunch up.

“Bad memories,” is all he says, and Goh is too uncomfortable to ask for anything more.

They finish their meal in silence, except for the occasional sniffle from Ash. Aside from any sinus issues, though, he looks significantly better when Goh takes his empty bowl back. Eyes wide and alert—present, rather than…whatever they were before. His expression is somewhat grave, but not any more so than would be expected for someone riding out a fever.

Goh sets their dishes aside, then straightens up and says, “She didn’t bring any food for our Pokémon, so I’m gonna go get some, all right?”

Ash doesn’t respond right away; when Goh glances back at him, he looks…small.

“What? Do you need something?”

“I just…” He looks away. Sniffles. Says, very quietly, “Please don’t leave me.”

Goh stares at him. He blinks a few times. Opens his mouth, and then closes it, and then finally manages to ask, “What?”

If his face weren’t already so flushed from his fever, Goh wonders if it would have reddened from the same emotion that clenches his hands into fists in his lap.

“Never mind,” Goh says, quickly. “I can stay a while longer. Do you…?”

Without a word, Ash nudges Pikachu and they both scoot over to make some space on his other side. Ash still doesn’t look up at him, but the message is more than received.

Goh has barely sat down before Ash is leaning against him. He’s still trembling, but suddenly Goh isn’t sure that’s entirely thanks to his fever. Awkwardly, he wraps an arm around him and holds him closer, as if he could put a stop to it if he tries hard enough.

It doesn’t stop completely, but he feels when Ash begins to relax. He looks over at Pikachu, whose head rests against Ash’s thigh, and knows that their Pokémon won’t mind waiting a few minutes longer for their dinner. It isn’t just his own Pokémon’s loyalty Ash has earned, after all.

Once his breathing has deepened a bit, Ash murmurs, “Thanks.”

Goh doesn’t say anything. He just holds him a bit tighter, content to stay where exactly where he is until Ash falls asleep.

send me a prompt + a character/ship!

#answered #*reqs #*writing #mine #*fic #this is way longer than i meant for it to be so if it feels rushed its because it is LMAO #journeyshipping #satogou #anipoke #pokemon #thanks so much for the req! when i saw it i felt itd be too obvious to have goh saying the line so i wanted to swap it around :')