#under a violet rain

[vaguekiwi]

I miss my Violet Rain era

#grace talks #under a violet rain #wrote it over the course of my senior year of college #school and work all day then writing all night it was such a vibe #I was so caffeinated all the time #and my betareader was so kicks she made the book so fucking good #gotta get that energy back

[ghostaholics]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn medic!Reader (same reader from here, but this is a stand-alone) ➸ SUMMARY: You kiss Simon's very minor injuries. And then some. (Or, alternatively: He's not actually wounded. He just wants to see you.) ➸ WARNING(S): some graphic descriptions of old injuries ➸ A/N: Need to preface that this isn't smut despite how the title and summary sound. Anyways, Jo knows I listened to Hozier's Other Voices 2020 version of "Work Song" for a week straight while writing this. ➸ WC: 2k

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃, ❞ he admits, low-timbered. It feels intimate, especially coming from him. Simon's sitting on the cot; it sags under his weight. He curls his hands over the edge of it as he leans forward. No casualties post-mission means he's got free rein to pick wherever he wants in the medical tent.

"Oh, yeah? What about?"

"That I should probably do my best to avoid injuries so I don’t keep pestering you. Can always just tell me to fuck off, y’know.”

“You’re gonna break my heart if you stop coming around.

“Mm,” he says in agreement. “Can’t have that can we?”

You nod your head earnestly. “I like your company.”

“Tryin’ to say that you’ll miss me?”

“I would.” More than he knows.

It’s routine now. He gives you just enough room, adjusting his position. You step into the space made between Simon’s splayed knees, his massive legs nearly bracketing yours with how close they are. He’s bigger than you. Well, considerably more mammoth-like in his proportions compared to an overwhelming majority of the soldiers that you’ve encountered, to be quite honest.

Simon acts as though he’s acutely aware of his size. You suspect that he purposefully makes himself smaller in your presence. Like now, how his shoulders are rounded forward, the column of his spine not as straight-arrow in that standard, militaristic posture most servicemen have adopted. As if he doesn’t want to appear too intimidating. Not that Simon could, to you. Hours doing his stitches and idle chitchat on your part have taught you that he’s much less ruthless than people seem to paint him as. But you appreciate the thought anyway.

You conduct the assessment – a typical evaluation normal for combat casualty care, more in-depth than the one you’d done when he initially stopped by and you did a quick once-over for any obvious injuries. Though given the complete vacancy in the medical tent, you find it hard to believe that you’ll come across anything on him since the mission went that smoothly.

The first thing you notice this time: he doesn't smell like spilled blood. It's different. Not that sweet, rusted iron of wet tackiness – the one that reminds you of a generous stack of two pence coins held between a pair of hands cupped together. He comes in that way a lot. Reeks, because war means that he's no stranger to charging through a shower of copper and lead-forged bullets out on the field. Everything else is still there, though. Maybe a dying campfire – crackling logs and blackened earth. Soft dirt excavated from a foxhole for cover while under enemy fire. All gunpowder and Marlboro Lights and diesel-fuel smoke. Fresh rain and a blue-violet sky after a storm. Victory without consequence.

You'd breathe it in if you could, pull the collar of his jacket up to your face. At this proximity, it’d be easy.

He drops the act when he’s in front of you. Lieutenant. Ghost. Battle-hardened, gruff. A natural-born leader. The kind of person to rip this world apart brick by brick – scraped up palms clutching onto broken pieces – to make sure that the plan is executed accordingly, no matter the cost. It’s hard for him to shed that layer. A drop in the bucket of information that you’ve gathered about this man.

You’ve seen him at his best. But you know him at his worst.

The laundry list of injuries over the years: blows to his torso and his back and his limbs that were brighter than technicolor – purples and reds and sickly yellow-green shades – deep, blotchy medals of violence decorating his skin like some kind of fucked-up kaleidoscope that was nothing to be proud of; when some bastard drove a knife right into his upper thigh, that dirty blade wedged through tissue and muscle which was sure as hell going to induce the nastiest infection without serious TLC and a tetanus shot; rib fractures 7-9 because he aborted an exploding heli, seconds to spare before landing on his side wrong from a height that was equivalent to three stories tall; old GSWs dotting his body the same way you’d shove push pins into a paper-flimsy map to mark the places you’ve been to.

And then there’s no contest for the top contender. 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 #𝟏: when he was rushed in on a stretcher, barely clinging to life. Lower abdomen shredded by exploding shrapnel. He was outside of the window of opportunity. Too far beyond that golden hour, so his chances of surviving plummeted to a single-digit percent.

He’s more than just a patchwork of scars. There’s a complex person underneath the surface. A miracle in the flesh to have toughed it out through all of that. Resilient. Perpetual. His callsign makes sense. Ghosts really do live forever.

Several seconds pass before you speak again. It’s a silly comment, teasing – poking fun at him. You don’t have any reservations when it comes to picking on Simon; he’s good about taking these things in stride. Funny, actually. He’s got a dry sense of humor. “I think… you like the idea of someone taking care of you.”

His response isn’t immediate. It’s delayed, said with intention. He doesn’t ever waste words. “Not just anybody.”

You nearly reel back at that. Warmth floods your face. You aren’t quite sure what to say, didn’t expect it. So you let the comment hang in the air between the two of you, busying your hands with slipping off his tac vest, triple-checking for hidden wounds, doing anything to keep yourself occupied while you stand this close to him in the wake of that remark. You’re engrossed in your work, in search of a distraction.

(He’s a distraction, isn’t he?)

And then your eyes stop in their scan. Right there: a small nick on the exposed sliver of skin between his glove and sleeve – open to the direct path of some wayward debris that happened to graze him. So tiny. You’ve seen paper cuts more harrowing than this – wouldn’t have even registered on your radar, especially if it’s being dwarfed by other critical wounds that hold decisive sway over somebody’s fate when it comes to your average life-or-death scenario.

Of course, you take your job very seriously.

You feign a sharp inhale. “Ah,” you say solemnly, guiding his arm up to your face for a closer look. “Found your problem.”

“I’ve got a problem,” he echoes, voice laced with amusement.

“See, you came to the right place. Anybody else would’ve missed it.”

“The verdict, then?”

“So terrible. Earth-shattering, in fact—”

Simon starts pulling away. “Alright, that’s enough of you takin’ the piss outta me,” he gripes.

You chase his arm to recapture it into your grasp. “Wait!” you say, huffing out a laugh. Your mouth sprouts into a wide grin that makes him roll his eyes.

“You gonna treat me or what?”

Your humor bubbles away as you come back to your senses. Those once-loud peals of laughter start to die down when you take his question into consideration. Because there’s really nothing for you to do; he doesn’t need you.

The realization is slow-moving. It washes over you, rolls like waves as you finally begin to sober up.

Simon wants to be here, and he’s looking for any excuse to stay. He just can’t find the courage to own up to it.

“I dunno. Might be unconventional,” you throw out casually, playing along. “Risky, maybe – never been done before.”

But he’s undeterred. “Sure. Whatever you gotta do.”

You pause for a beat, fingers still wrapped around his forearm because you haven’t managed to let go yet. His skin is warm under your palm. You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to do it – emboldened by his encouragement, given complete carte blanche; he’s leaving this to your discretion. So you press your lips to that area where the cut is, right over his pulse point. If you had lingered for longer, you probably would’ve been able to feel it thudding, that solid rhythm and easy strength reminding you he’s alive.

You expected him to withdraw his arm in bewilderment. He should’ve kicked up a fuss about you violating his boundaries, should’ve told you that you overstepped. Something, right?

But he doesn’t do any of that. Simon’s studying you. Dark pupils. So chasm-deep that the ground beneath your feet might slip away. Ocean trenches, midnight-black like the charcoal smudged around his eyes. When they land on you, his gaze goes molasses-soft. He’s fond; there’s little room for doubt. The way he looks at you says everything. None of that usual coldness he harbors during an op. Instead, relaxed and more human than you’re used to seeing – all of his attention focused solely on you.

“Where else, Simon?” you whisper.

He’s thinking – carefully weighing his options – the same expression that he gets when a crossroads lies ahead of him and he knows his make-it-or-break-it decision will invariably affect the outcome of a mission.

After several moments, his hand comes up. Simon’s fingers curl underneath the hem of his mask; he’s been wearing the fabric balaclava more often since you’ve fixed the stitching on it. Then he lifts – not the entire way. Just to reveal the bottom half of his face. There he is. Sandpaper-rough stubble. The sharp cut of his jaw. A mouth that you’re convinced wears a scowl 24/7 behind his mask but is now slightly twitched up.

Even though you’ve seen it before, the sight of him never fails to steal your breath away. Feels like meeting him for the first time again. With how rarely he does this, it might as well be – that slow, heart-melting sensation is steadily filling the cavern of your chest.

And you lean in. Your lips brush against his; it’s a chaste thing – the kiss – if it can be called that. Gentle. Like how you’d stitch up his wounds with a light touch and kind intent. He’s built of sterner stuff, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about him, it’s that he’s capable of breaking just as easily as everyone else. You always handle Simon with care: unequivocal compassion and empathy when there’s so little of those left on this side of war – privileges that he’s never taken for granted.

“Better?” you ask quietly, tipping your head in question.

Simon hums his approval – this pleased, low sound in his throat. His hand slides across your lower back. He tugs you towards him. “Wouldn’t mind some more attention,” he murmurs, before slotting his mouth over yours. And then he kisses you like it might heal him from the outside in.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x you #simon riley fluff #simon riley fic #cod x reader #cod fic #call of duty fic #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw x reader #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw 2

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

All I wanna do is go the distance

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Hey guys, I'm super excited to give you guys this next chapter 💕 I have big things planned hehe

I would reccommend reading this oneshot, but as I am not jon favreau, you don't have to read extra stuff I make to understand the main stuff. Enjoy 😈

Part 7 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

It had taken a few weeks for your head to get completely right again after the concussion. On some days you worried that you’d never get through the fluorescent infested hallways of the base without jamming your fists in your eyes ever again. Sometimes you’d catch Price staring at you with those concerned world weary eyes of his in the worst moments, when the headaches were screaming outwards, bursting through your skull. Though with enough time, and a lot of pain killers, the pain died down and dulled until you were completely back to normal.

It was a good thing too. For one, getting Price off your back while you were continuing to sneak around with König was a must, being under the microscope was only making the head trouble all the worse. And for another, which you were sometimes shocked to think was the secondary reason, you’d been going on more and more missions again as the 141 and KorTac got ever closer to tracking down Rousseau. Things were getting tense now, Ghost had been falling under a lot of pressure to perform and his temper was all over the place. Oftentimes you’d be the lucky one that had to chase him and calm him down.

In the months and missions after you’d come back you’d put away three of Rousseau’s men behind bars, including a very high level man that acted as his consigliere. Apparently he’d been worked on quite a bit since his capture. 141 weren’t privy to the intimate details of course, that was up to the CIA and KorTac, but as far as you’d all been told he’d given over a wealth of information on Rousseau’s location and even some limited blueprints of his hideout. 

Price had told you all in advance that intelligence would be confirming your next mission in a matter of days, so you should all stick close to the base. You were actually getting ready for an upcoming training exercise, Rousseau’s man revealing the details on his base meant that command were adamant that you did a run through first and came up with a successful strategy for the big boss’ take down. 

Luckily for you, because of the stay close order, that meant more time in your little airbnb paradise. The place was starting to feel like home. You were both etching yourselves into the apartment, carving your living narratives into it. 

You could identify marks where König had been clumsy and dropped things or scuffed his boots against the wall. There was a tiny stain on the couch from where you’d come and sat after a mission. Lastly, but not least of all, was the curtain that had been sneakily stitched up to the railing after you and König had accidentally pulled it off several of its hooks when you’d grabbed it a little too enthusiastically one night. And on top of it all was the lingering smell of the room spray you’d bought a few weeks into renting the place, preferring the smell of ‘violet rain’ over the faint notes of tobacco that clung to the walls from other renters.

Sometimes you and König even liked to tell each other ‘see you back at the house’. It was becoming all so humdrum to you both.

You smiled as you glanced over at König one night, ruminating over your little routine. The warmth of you could’ve lifted the apartment into the air. It just felt so good to know that you had something that was yours, something that wasn’t your job, something that wasn’t a material thing, you had a life with König. It was most apparent to you when you watched him, when he was free of his hood and his armour and plates and he lay on the bed on his phone, unburdened from rules and duty. He undressed himself from the myth and lay comfortably as König the man, lounging in his boxers and T-shirt like any boyfriend would act with their partner.

Though that night, his brows were knit together in concentration and his lips were pursed, he was adamant that he be left alone for a minute to do whatever it was that he was doing. It intrigued you because he was rarely so mysterious, normally he’d tell you if it was a work thing, but this time he just waved you off and told you not to be nosy. That being the case, you were watching him closely trying to see if he’d give you any hints or signs of what was so captivating on that screen of his.

“I can feel those doe eyes burning a hole into me,” he chuckled, finally gracing you with his attentions.

“Can you blame me? You’re being all suspicious,” you shrugged, tilting your head a little to see if he’d explain himself.

“I’m not being suspicious, I just asked for some quiet.”

“You said ‘Sneaky, I have something I need to do, but don’t look’ and then when I asked if it was work stuff you said no. That - is suspicious.”

“Well it gave you an excuse to imitate me, so that’s something isn’t it,” he scoffed. 

“Well, you know I do it so well,” you grinned, watching with delight as he rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you repeated, feeling as if you were copying him perfectly. 

“If you think that’s how I sound then I'm surprised you have any kind of attraction to me,” he laughed.

“Well some days are a struggle more than others, but-”

You weren’t given the chance to finish your sentence, he’d forgotten all about his phone and thrown it from his lap, launching himself at you faster than any RPG you’d seen. In a matter of seconds you were pinned to the bed and fighting for your life, tears pouring from your eyes as he tickled you and trapped you underneath his annoyingly unyielding legs. 

“What happened to the Sneaky that cried when I told them that I was bullied for my accent in school, hm? Now you’re making fun of me? I’ve got to say, that hurts me Sneak,” he said, an overdramatic fake upset lacing his tone. “You deserve every bit of this!”

You cried out and tried to protest, making a grab for his hands, but were merely shoved away when you made any kind of headway in distracting him. You wriggled and squirmed and screamed, but it was all for nothing. There was no way to make him stop until he wanted to.

“Kö- K…König, please!” you yelped, struggling to breathe. “Enough!”

You were beginning to feel like a struggling furnace as you endured his torture. Your lungs were burning from their failing efforts and you only screamed more as you grew tired of trying to fight back. The second he finally stopped his assault, you gasped in a huge lungful of air and laid back, groaning as you looked up at the blaring lights overhead and registered your sweaty forehead. 

“Remind me not to bully you again,” you sighed, finally finding your voice again.

“Mhmm. I tell you all the time, but you just always insist on being so mean to me regardless,” he chuckled, unhooking his legs from your sides.

König came to rest beside you and tucked a stray strand of hair back in its place. His eyes scanned over your heaving chest and he laughed as he watched you attempt to struggle into a sit. Nevertheless you managed to wobble yourself upwards on the shaky mattress and looked down at him, then over to his forgotten phone. 

“Will you do that again if I try to ask what you were doing so suspiciously on your phone?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” he smiled.

His new favourite line. The way he said it, it always had the undertones of a threat, but it was never said outright maliciously. König could affect his voice with so much masked intent it would have your head spinning sometimes trying to work out what he’d do next. Sometimes you’d get lost thinking about how long he’d practised that. The unfortunate people that had come across his path and challenged him, ending up with a far worse fate than just your tickling. Though you never liked to dwell on it for long. 

“What were you suspiciously doing on your phone, König?” you said, pulling yourself out of your thoughts before you got too sucked in. 

“Well, if you must know…” he trailed off and made a jump toward you, pretending he was going to attack again.

“No! No, no, no! Not again,” you cried out, leaping away from the bed. 

You made a mental note to thank Soap and Ghost one day, all their messing with you had made you quick on your feet. Instinctively, you threw your hands up ready to fight and narrowed your eyes, watching his every movement like a hawk. König remained on the bed though and sat up, laughing and shaking his head to himself as he picked up his phone again and scrolled through it. 

“Please, Sneaky, you really think I’m going to be threatened by those fists?” he tutted, not even looking at you as you remained in your defensive stance. “Put them away and come sit down.”

“These hands have killed people!” you defended.

“Yes, I know that, you’re a good soldier.”

“Exactly, so you should be threatened,” you retorted.

“If I was anyone else, sure. You’d never hurt me though,” he said, looking up from his phone with a smug grin. “I’m your boyfriend after all.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and immediately covered your face in your hands. Every little bit of you was drowning in the feeling of your thundering heart.

König didn’t much care for that particular title, he usually preferred to say partner, but he knew how it made you feel and he weaponised it as much as he possibly could. Knowing that he was all yours still scattered the butterflies in your stomach and you always felt like a little kid in the face of his teasing. You couldn’t help that him being officially yours still got you so excited.

“Are you ever going to stop using that against me?” you mumbled, finally coming to sit by him.

“No. I like watching you get flustered,” he chuckled. “It’s very cute.”

Before you could protest anymore though, he slung his arm around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss, softly releasing all the fight you had left with his teasing lips and tongue. You were locked together for a few moments and sighed contentedly when he broke away, pressing your head to his shoulder and feeling ready to sink down into the bed with him. 

Though it wasn’t time for that yet.

“Would you like me to show you what I’ve been working on?”

You opened your eyes and faced him again, watching his nervous smile grow. Seeing him look so sheepish re-sparked your curiosity and you nodded, ready to see what it was. He hurriedly entered his password and the screen flashed open, landing on the homepage screen with a shot of you both from one of your photobooth pictures from an impromptu date months before, before your concussion. Pictures he was adamant that he couldn’t let you keep because he had to protect his image, even if he was wearing his half mask at the time. As if he was somehow a much better secret keeper than you.

You smirked at the memory of all the playful bickering you’d done over those photos and shook your head, eyeing the screen again as König brought up his tabs. He clicked onto the latest one and it opened onto a confirmation email. It wasn’t what you’d expected, not that you were sure of what you even were expecting. As you read it you raised your brows and looked up at him, wondering what was happening. 

“This is a confirmation email for renting a hire car from some company in Austria,” you stated. 

“Some company has a name,” he retorted. 

“I’m not going to insult you by trying to pronounce that.”

“I see you’re restraining yourself now,” he laughed. “Well yes, it is a hire car confirmation for a cheap company in Vienna.”

“And you’re hiring a car in Vienna because?”

“Because, in a few months time, I’m taking you to Austria. Now, wait! Before you protest, I’ve thought it all out and you don’t need to worry about explaining any passport stamps to Price. I’ve found us flights to Slovakia and a train that can take us from Bucharest into Vienna, and from there I can take you around to see the country for a few days.”

He hastily explained himself and you smiled as you watched his hurried hand movements, his body in a flurry of motion. It was particularly fun to see him turn his hand into, what you figured, was a high speed train. He looked at you seriously as he finished, waiting in a suspended state of worry to see what you’d say. 

As if you’d disappoint him. 

“You sat and booked all that just for us?”

“Of course. I’ve really wanted to take you for a while now, so when you said you had time booked off and the higher ups indicated this mission will be coming to a close soon...I thought, this is the time. So what do you say? Will you come with me?”

“Obviously! I’m so excited, I can’t believe it. I’m getting to go on holiday with my Boyfriend,” you laughed, this time making yourself squeal. “It's gonna be so good! We’re gonna eat so much good food and see so many cool places and oh-  I wanna see those mountains you were talking about! Can we go?”

“We will see the mountains, yes. I’ve put time aside for that,” he laughed.

“You’ve planned the whole trip already?” you asked incredulously. 

“Sneaky I’ve been planning this for weeks,” he smiled. “I just finished the last arrangements there. I want to keep most of it a surprise, but…I actually have one thing on there that I need to ask you about before we go though.”

“Oh?”

He pursed his lips again and looked away before looking back to you. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out to Burgenland? To my mothers house.”

Your heart skipped a beat and somehow you managed to reach new levels of excitement. Meeting König’s mum meant a lot more to him that it did for most people. It came with a lot more meaning. Meeting König’s mum meant that he was accepting you as part of his family, it meant that he wanted you to know more of his annoyingly buried secrets. It meant that he’d have to tell you his name. 

It’s not like his own mother would call him König. 

It had been a sore subject for a little while. The cause of your only serious fights so far. You’d pushed to know a couple times, complaining that he wasn’t letting you in and that it was ridiculous that you were a couple and you wouldn’t even know what to call him  if anything should happen. Something could happen to him out in the field and all you’d know is a codename, he could be taken away from you and you’d never know who he was. 

Of course König argued that that was ridiculous and you knew more than almost anyone knew about him - excluding his mum of course. He claimed that his name was just a burden, that it was just something that would give people an excuse to take from you. Though you argued about that as well, if someone wanted to hurt you to get to him then they’d do it anyway. It didn’t matter if they believed you knew his true identity or not. 

The last time you’d gone almost hysterical because the whole thing was so silly to you. The little airbnb walls felt like they were going to go flying with all the verbal mortars being thrown, like you were going to be swept up like something from the wizard of Oz. You’d both bickered back and forth, forming a dark comedy sketch, two squeaky little cartoon characters that were on the verge of strangling each other as you both held your ground.

“Why does it matter if I know! You keep saying people will come for me, and that it's more dangerous to know you, but it's not that. I know it's not that! Otherwise you wouldn’t be seen with me, you wouldn’t have let me come this close. You just can’t face that all your walls would have to come down. You just don’t want to let me in.”

“It is dangerous to know who I am, how many times must I list the reasons? But you know what, fine, you’re right.You win! I’d love to let you in fully, but yes I am afraid of letting you close! Even though you have no idea how much you’ve taken already. I’ve given you more of me than anyone else has ever gotten, even while it’s been hard. You have no idea how hard all this is for me.”

“Hard for You? I’m in a relationship with someone that won’t tell me their name!”

 “Because it's the last thing I have to protect myself! If you leave me, what then? You could decide you want out of all this complication and find someone nice and simple and then where would I be? You’d have taken everything from me.”

“What am I taking from you? Knowing who you are is not taking anything from you König. Besides, I’m not leaving you. Why do you think I’m so hell bent on trying to find someone else when I spend all my time jeopardising my job just to be here with you? You think I like facing down Price knowing that he’d turn on me if he knew what I got up to in my spare time? I put the respect of someone that I deeply care about on the line, just so that I can be with you and you’re acting like I’m ready to run off at the first chance!”

“Because you’ve done it before!”

“That’s not fair and you know it.”

König may as well have turned and stuck a ten foot spear through your heart. You’d felt a tide of tears wash up in your eyes and you’d walked away from him then, not willing to let him see how much he’d hurt you. Not that that was an option. From his widened eyes alone, you knew that he’d known it was a mistake to dredge up old wounds, his sparkling blue irises dimming as he lost his self conviction. 

“Wait! Hold on, I’m sorry.”

König raced up to you and stopped you in your tracks. His strong arms wrapped around you fast and held you snugly against his chest as pathetic droplets of tears streaked your burning cheeks. You didn’t bother trying to free yourself from him. You just whimpered and clung to him as he shushed you and apologised for what he’d said, kissing your dampened face like it was nothing.

“I’m so sorry. What I just said was stupid. Will you please come sit with me for a moment… I have something I want to tell you.” 

A flare of anger and rebellion flared in you for a second. It was stamped out immediately, but just for a moment you wanted to storm off and tell him that if he wanted to keep you from knowing him then he’d done a great job - that that was it. Though, you couldn’t bring yourself to follow through. Even when you hated him at that moment, you couldn’t bear to see him upset again. You knew that you’d hurt him badly already that day you’d run from him in the park outside the base, you knew that you couldn’t bring yourself to do that again. 

“Ok,” you’d sniffled.

He’d sighed and taken you to the couch, sitting across from you after propping you up against your favourite fluffy pillow. You held onto it with one of your hands, losing yourself in its soft textures as you threaded your fingers through it. König watched you play with the loose strands for a second before looking you in the eyes, his face a perfect picture of remorse. 

“You didn’t really run away from me, that was silly of me to say.”

“I did run from you though, I ran from you that day you tried to explain yourself after the mission” you frowned, not able to help your crackling feebly. “You were  right, I can’t act like I haven’t given you reasons to be wary.”

“No. You didn’t leave me then though. You agreed to work through things and I suppose that’s what we’ve been doing…with mixed results,” he said, laughing dryly. “You haven’t really given me reason to be like this. This is what has happened after years of keeping people out and I suppose…I’m just having a hard time adjusting to what it feels like to let someone in.”

“I know. I know that really,” you sighed. “It's just hard sometimes because sometimes it feels like things are as they should be, like everything we have is so normal. Then I snap back to reality and there’s all this stuff with work where we have to pretend to hate each other and then we have missions that don’t line up and we don’t get to speak, like not even a phone call a lot of the time. Then there’s this intrusive voice I have over it all saying- well saying ‘you don’t even know his name, what is it we really even have together’ and I know its ridiculous and we care about each other and I should ignore it all-”

“It’s not ridiculous,” König soothed. “I feel the strain of these things too.”

He leaned forward then and grabbed your hands, making you jump as you were taken out of worrying at the pillow. His calloused fingers rubbed against yours and his warm grip kept you grounded into reality. The scars that scraped up the backs of his arms jumped up at you in the warmth of the yellow lights, his whole body a patchwork of battered skin. You traced your eyes from his rough hands and arms, up to his bobbing adam's apple and to the depths of his ocean eyes and worried face.

König’s jaw was tensed and he breathed as he worked up to what he was going to say. Your own breath was held then, lungs burning as you waited for him to speak.

“Other people have let me down in the past. My mother moved us to Germany for a manipulative piece of shit that hated me and looked to rid himself of me at every opportunity. I grew up with few friends, in a country that wasn’t mine, and fought so hard for so long that I didn’t know how to be vulnerable. I met a woman after I was forced to join the army that told me I was a hollow shell of a man, and that no one should have to be sentenced to dealing with me…There’s times I’ve agreed with her too, I’ve moved through life feeling like half a person some days. Then I met you. None of what I’ve told you is any excuse to treat you badly, but sometimes I’m so set in my distrust that I can’t let myself cross the lines I need to be able to get to where you are….And- and for you…I’m working on crossing those lines, because you’re the only person I’d ever want to give myself to, but for now its a slow process. You’ve seen my full face, we’ve made love and I have given you almost everything that I can give you for right now. All of this is to say…well - to ask - if you would give me a little more time and allow me to keep working on things with you.”

Listening to him then, as his voice crackled and wavered with emotion, was so very difficult. He kept a hold of your hands the whole time, his fingers shaking as he went on. His whole body looked ready to crumble as he explained himself.

Though before he could be brought down by everything you leaned over and held him, winding your arms around him as tightly as they would go. You hugged him close for the rest of the night and whispered to each other in the darkness when you went to bed, giving your affirmations, like a secret promise, that everything would be ok. 

As you thought back to that night, your body shook with an icy cold shock of frisson. You didn’t want to go through that again. 

“I would love to meet your mum, König,” you said softly, swallowing as you tried to tactfully avoid another horrific argument. “Does this mean…that you’ll tell me your name soon?”

He smiled knowingly at you and nodded, stroking the warm apple of your cheeks fondly. 

“I will tell you sometime soon, yes,” he confirmed, speaking warmly.

You felt a beaming smile shine brightly over your face and jumped on König, feeling full force  of excitement as things seemed to be heading in a good direction. Everything was lining up. Your mission would be done soon, you and König wouldn’t have to worry about sneaking around anymore because the taskforce would have some downtime until you were called upon again for some other earth shattering mission. After that you were going to finally learn his name. 

You sighed. It was almost too good to be true. 

“You just gotta promise me one thing,” you said, shifting your tone seriously. 

“What?” he asked, breaking away from your hug so that he could look at you properly. 

“If it’s something ridiculous you have to prepare me in advance.”

He rolled his eyes and groaned, falling comically backwards onto the couch. 

“I’m being serious,” you laughed. “If it’s something crazy like Wolfgang or Ferdinand I need to be prepared!”

“Do you really think that that’s what Austrian people are called?” he giggled.

“I have no idea! This is what I’ve been saying, I could see your passport in a few months time and could be having to fight myself not to laugh!”

“You would really laugh at my name if you thought it was silly?” he snorted. 

“All I can promise that I’ll try not to,” you grinned, crossing your hands over your heart while he stared back at you with a displeased glare. “All I’m saying is that if I see something mad I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

He rolled his eyes again and sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up into the air. 

“I can’t believe I’m being lectured on silly names by someone called ‘Sneaky’.”

“Hey!”

-☠️- 

When Price called you all in the next day, nothing could’ve prepared you for the shitstorm that was going to ensue. Though you were feeling the full force of it as you stood in the darkened labyrinth of the warehouse that had been set up to emulate Rousseau’s hideout. The 141 and KorTac had been told to find the best way to clear the base and get to Rousseau, but the problem was that you were taking too long and being overwhelmed by too many of Price’s fake men. There were just so many rooms that were connected to other rooms and it meant that a lot of men could get by each other undetected. It was a nightmare.

You’d run through the exercise around eight times already and the more that Price was making you reset, the more tension was being put on the team. It was only a matter of time till someone snapped. Although, given their quick temper and worn down attitude in the last few months, you were sure of who that person was going to be the entire time. 

In the latest reset, you stood next to one of the floppy wooden walls and bit your tongue, watching on with fear as Ghost marched up to König and got in his face. They were almost mask to mask, eye to eye as Ghost took what little gap there was between them and cinched it tight. You felt every little notch in the wood then, backing yourself into it just so that you could force yourself not to get yourself in trouble by intervening.

“Stop fucking around you useless pile of shitting cloth!”

ouch.

“You’re blaming me for the reset?” König scoffed, squaring up his shoulders. “If you would stop lagging through the hallways and would get them cleared properly, then we might be able to get through one of these attempts successfully, Lieutenant.” 

“It was your bright idea to split off with Soap and Gaz and leave us with Horangi. So far it’s been nothing but problems with you and your team rushing and getting hasty and now I’m done. We’re doing it my way again. Slow and methodical. Like it or lump it, king cunt.”

“Problems aren’t from me going too fast, they’re occurring because your team isn't clearing the halls properly, Ghost. I need Soap because Fender is out of the country, I need someone to blow the doors so I can breach plus the extra cover. Your idea failed five times already, why don’t we try to execute mine properly, hm?”

“I’ll fucking show you an execution, König!”

Ghost rammed König and sent him back peddling into the wall you were leaning against with heavy thud. You were sent flying forward as the wood bounced and watched as it rattled with the men’s efforts to take each other down.

It was like watching two stags lock horns, they were grabbing onto each other furiously and neither man seemed to want to let the other go. König swung his fist and Ghost dodged. Ghost tried to knock König unbalanced with a kick, and only succeeded in almost sticking his boot through the cheap chipboard.  

The rest of you watched on helplessly. There was very little anyone of you could do to pull the two titans off of each other -  Not if you didn’t want to get taken out of action in the process. 

“Right! That’s enough boys!” 

Price’s voice echoed through the warehouse, powerful and commanding as it sailed through the air like a brick. It smashed through the two fighters and in a matter of seconds König and Ghost were standing to attention, looking up at Price from his spot on the balcony. The blue light of the warehouse shone starkly against the white in Ghost’s mask, but it failed to stick on the inky black of König’s hood. 

“I appreciate that its been a long day gentlemen, but that doesn’t mean you get the luxury of turning into little school boys that can’t contain their fucking tantrums!” Price bellowed, continuing to reset the temperature. “König, stop pushing so hard when the others are still trying to clear the rooms on the left side. Ghost, work faster and spread your team out. Reset and do it again!”

The Captain’s word was final. Even at the height he stood, illuminated by a few bulbs that flickered like burnt orange like cigarettes, you saw that he was in no mood to be argued with. He’d stood watch for all of the attempts and with every one that failed he grew more and more dissatisfied as your joint teams disintegrated into in-fighting. 

Well, that wasn’t going to be a problem on this attempt. Not unless anyone was in the mood to invoke Price’s wrath. 

All you marched off without another word, dragging your feet as you made your way back to the start point. Ghost was glaring so hard at König it seemed like all of you were staying purposefully clear of his path; attempting to avoid the crossfire. Soap and Gaz grunted a few words of annoyance toward each other on the way, but luckily you all made it in one piece.

A few tense moments proceeded to ebb slowly by. The clatter of doors and scrape of fallen soldiers and obstacles being reset was echoing throughout the building, the heavy breaths of men around you intermingled and all too eerily you began to feel like you were in the belly of a beast. It certainly appeared that way to your eyes, you couldn’t see much through the darkness. You’d have to position your night vision down again. 

In the briefing before training, when you’d had the blueprints and locations revealed to you, you’d been told that your guys would be able to cut the power beforehand. They were sending your two teams in while Price waited with another team on standby. That way if Rousseau tried to make a clever escape, Price would be there to close in on him while you rid his headquarters of his followers.

All of it was easier said than done though apparently.

“If we fuck this up again I’m going home. Fuck the dessertion charges, prison’s better than this,” Gaz muttered.

“If we fuck this up again,” Ghost growled in disbelief. “You mean If your team fuck it up, Garrick.”

“Aw, putting the blame on us, LT?” Soap chuckled. “You’re so sweet. Maybe it's me just looking to spend a little more time with you.”

His laugh still held a little humour in it, even for all the torture you’d all been through. Although he knew for a fact that he had nothing to do with it. It was his big lumbering steam train of a teammate that couldn’t be let off so easily. 

It was true what Price said, he had been moving too quickly. König was frustrated. Somehow, despite not even being able to see him most of the time, and at times just barely through the green haze of your goggles, you could tell he was finally feeling the strain of working with your team. He was getting antsy and forceful, trying to power through so that he could escape the stifling atmosphere that the other men created for him.

You wanted to tell him he’d only make it worse by prolonging the day. Though it wouldn’t have been a good idea to speak to him then - not with Ghost feeling the way he was. 

“If we spend any more time down here you’ll all be wishing for a nice cosy jail cell by the time I’m done,” Ghost spat. 

You flickered your eyes over to König and held your breath. He looked like he desperately wanted to make a comment on the situation, his eyes were narrowing in a familiar way, the kind of look he got when he was about to fight a point. You silently begged him to stand down and cast a wary glance over at Horangi, hoping he’d stop his friend from doing anything dumb.

Though in the end it didn’t matter. Price interjected before König could air his thoughts, entering the scene like a benevolent god shouting from above. 

“Alright. Begin again in 5…4…3…2…and…”

The warehouse descended into complete darkness, all lights were off and it was just you and your two teams, huddled together in the lonely gloom. Ghost silently gestured for you all to get moving and with the rehearsed speed of a broadway play, you filed into two teams and braced as Soap got the first charge ready. 

You drew in a breath and felt your heart thudding in your chest, it made you tighten your grip on your gun as every booming beat cracked out like thunder. You swallowed and scanned your eyes through the green fog, watching bleary eyed as Soap set the first charge. You looked away and hunched your shoulders, already tensing for the first explosion. 

The door broke away and the charge sounded off with a dull boom, soon enough your teams were ‘firing’ on your fake enemy with your fake rounds. The guns clacked and clicked in a foreign kind of way and instead of screaming or disappearing in a spray they took a moment to notice the hits and would drop to the ground like seasoned actors. 

Even despite that all though, the adrenaline felt all too real. The soldiers were growing smarter smarter, even hindered by the darkness,they had begun to forsee your oncoming attacks and fought back twice as hard as before now that they'd seen your strategy a few times. It was taking longer and longer to clear the first room. 

Nevertheless, determined to stay in the exercise and take it through to its bitter end. You kept down behind Ghost and shot out at the hostiles, doing your duty and hoping it would be enough. Luckily for you the men fell after trading a couple rounds of fire.

“Horangi, stay on me. Sneak when I say the word I want you to move up ahead to the first room on the left. Horangi and I will cover you while you clear it and block the entrance on the otherside,” Ghost ordered. 

“Copy that,” you responded, also hearing Horangi sound off similarly. 

König had moved up already, but rather than have Soap and Gaz blow the next door, they were all taking cover and helping your team with the oncoming flood of men. Even as two separate teams you were now united in a common purpose - to improve the strategy and ensure you’d never be put through the exercise again. 

Most of you hated having to do those sessions, rehearsing for the main event. After All It’s not like you can account for everything that can happen when the real mission goes live. Its not like the men would be expecting you like the hapless new recruits, that was only natural as you reset the mission for the ninth time in a row.

With that in mind, you kept your gun in your hands like it was superglued to you and marched on, following through with Ghost’s plan as he directed you forward. You gulped and sprinted toward the room, taking cover behind the door and angling your head so that you could spot the men that were spraying heavy fire just inches from where you stood. You blinked and took a breath, reminding yourself that you had the edge. You had night vision. 

In a flash you whirled around and took out one of the men closest to you, diving behind a desk before anyone else could get to you. Already marking out your next target, you were relieved when you spotted Ghost in your peripheral and shot up.

“Support pillar, LT!” you shouted, marking out your ‘kill’. 

Ghost acknowledged you and directed his gun toward the other two, and soon enough you were standing in an empty room, listening to the fire outside. Though you weren’t done, you hustled over to the entrance on the other side and tipped a desk over the doorway, making entry very difficult. Then seconds later another explosion went off and Ghost signalled for you to follow him, covering the rear of team König. 

“On me, team!”

Horangi and you followed Ghost as closely as possible, heeding his every command as you cleared the rest of the rooms with slow and steady precision. König battered down every door with Soap’s help and with he and Gaz ploughing forward, you were able to keep watch of the rear as more men crawled out of the woodwork in an attempt to surprise you. 

Even with the fake ammo your blood was pumping around your body like white water rapids and your breathing came fast and heavy. The clack of the guns and the sound of feet scrabbling against the crumbly warehouse floors were echoing around your head and before long you were beginning to feel wired, could feel your body shake as you grew ever closer to the end. This was it. An escape from the labyrinth and the endless blurry green of the night vision goggles.

“Ready?” König asked, standing prone at the last door.

Ghost and Horangi took out a couple of stragglers, and once they were down and static silence was ringing all around you, König was given the go ahead.

“One last door and then we’re home free, Gazzy,” Soap grinned, setting the door to blow. 

“Yeah yeah, just blow the door, Soap,” Ghost growled.

The last breach felt strong enough to shake the ground you were standing on. Though you’d concede that by the time the charge went off, you were starting to shiver a little. You were full of anticipation, ready to sit down and get some rest before the actual mission. A good night’s sleep was within your grasp. 

Once that door swung out, you’d realised that you’d never been so relieved to see a potential hostage. 

The new recruit made a mighty effort to mimic Rousseau, he tried to go down fighting and raised his gun at you all. Though with six people on him he didn’t have a chance. All of you shrank back from his shots while he attempted to flee, though when you noticed that the recruits back was turning to run, you took your chance and barrelled toward him. 

With every ounce of strength that was left in your body you tackled the man to the ground, landing softly on his thick padding - something Rousseau definitely wouldn’t have when it came time to dive on him. Even with your body protesting, exacerbated limbs crying out for a break, you wrestled his gun from his hands and pinned them to the ground. Fake Rousseau had nowhere to go after that, he was stuck below your body even as you heaved out heavy breaths and soon was surrounded by the rest of your team.

At long last it was game over. 

“Alright, very good team,” Price’s voice called, “You can take off the night vision and we’ll turn the lights up.”

You were all too eager to follow Price’s command. You whipped the goggles up and looked around in the sheer darkness for a moment until the blue lights faded on and were then chased up by the stark flicker of the overhead lights. 

Everyone was blinking hard, adjusting to the brilliance and grimacing as you all looked around the grotty old warehouse with new eyes. When it was set up with low lighting there was something very intimidating about the training area, though now that you looked at it in the new light you couldn’t help but compare it to waking up the morning after a one night stand. 

The chip boards looked floppy and pathetic and the huge towering walls beyond your little simulated maze were covered in warning signs and caution notices. The mirage had cleared, and finally you could look up at Price properly, settling your strained eyes on his terse expression.

“Much better. That’s the sort of performance I expect from you lot, and that’s what I want when we launch tomorrow. Get yourselves cleaned up and get ready to meet in the hanger for oh-four hundred. You’re all dismissed.”

-☠️- 

“Fucking Training exercises.”

You lumbered behind Ghost and made your way to the bathrooms, getting ready to wash up with the rest of the team, hearing bed calling out to you sweetly before your early start. Soap and Gaz were unsuaully quiet, meanwhile König and Horangi were their usual type of quiet. Ghost wasn’t satisfied with that though, he was muttering to himself and stomping down the hallway like a man about to fly himself off to Rousseau and end the mission himself.

“At least it’s over now,” you sighed. 

“Would’ve been over a long time ago if we hadn’t started improvising with the hired help,” Ghost groused.

“How many times, Ghost. We tried your plan and we failed, we worked mine out and we passed,” König growled. “Doesn’t matter how many times you whine about it, the plan worked and that’s all that matters.”

“Is it? Is that all that matters?”

“Yes. We all wanted out and now we’re out. Job done,” König groaned. “What else is there to bitch about?”

“It’s not bitching when I have legitimate concerns about letting a private contractor shit all over my team’s dynamic and split us up!”

“What dynamic is that? The one where you get them all killed?”

Ghost flew toward König again, except this time none of you were allowing it. You, Gaz and Soap leapt toward your Lieutenant while Horangi acted as a barrier, keeping a steady hand on König’s flaring chest. All of you struggled as Ghost threatened to explode, but in a matter of seconds he calmed enough to see he wasn’t going to be allowed his revenge and broke away, grumbling that he’d leave it. 

König watched the exchange between you all and laughed to himself, the little titter escaping the thick fabric of his hood even as he tried to keep it soft. You glared over at him, not appreciating his antagonising just as you’d managed to get a grip of Ghost, though he rolled his eyes at you and walked off. 

Only when he was around the corner did you finally feel it was fit to let Ghost have it.

“What the fuck was that, LT?”

“What do you mean what the fuck was that?” he growled.

The way Ghost looked at you, the way his eyes glinted like he was settling on a new target, normally would’ve had you crumbling like brittle harling in a storm but you were resolute in your mission. You straightened your shoulders and walked up to him, not letting the disappointment fade from your face. 

In your periphery, you caught your fellow teammates giving you a shared look of fear. Soap and Gaz more than made up for what you lacked in that moment, but you ignored them keeping your mind focused completely on Ghost. 

“Price cleared the op to run just as we practised it there, just as it was successfully run and you want to have a go at König because he happened to make a valid suggestion?”

“I’m not having a go, I’m pissed that we’re taking orders from paid guns that shouldn’t even be here in the first place! This was supposed to be our mission, Price assembled our taskforce back together all to take down Rousseau and what happens? The government get involved with KorTac and suddenly we have to play nice with money grubbing slime balls. It’s all not right, Sneaky, and I won’t sit by and take it!”

“It might not be right, but it's the situation we’re in. You might not like König, and things have been…not ideal with all thats happened, but like it or not he made a good call and Price recognised it for what it was.”

Ghost grunted and was about to fire back another load of verbal ammunition, though Soap interjected before he could say anything else.

“Sneak’s right, Ghost. If they’re telling you to let the König thing go, then let it go. Sneak has the most right out of anyone to be pissed about König calling the shots, and they’re not. Fuck sake, Ghost, even Price hates the man. If Price likes his plan, then its a good plan.”

You raised your brows, surprised at seeing Soap opposing Ghost for once. He walked over to you and stood shoulder to shoulder, holding the giant back as he teetered on the verge of a rampage. The warmth of Soap brought a calm to your bones and now that you knew you had someone else supporting you, you let out a breath you’d barely been aware of holding. 

You so rarely had to butt heads with your Lieutenant, you’d never get used to the feeling. Your bones felt like they were rattling with the energy it required.

“You don’t have to worry about the team dynamic, Ghost,” you continued, hoping to expel the last of his anger. “In fact arguing with König is more of an issue than anything that he or any of KorTac can do. We get through this mission and take down Rousseau, then KorTac will leave and we can get back to our jobs until the 141 is called on again. If we fuck this up then we’ll be dealing with losses and we’ll have to keep working with them. We just need to get through this and its done…ok?”

Ghost sighed and cast his eyes down to the floor. Silence reigned for a few beats, but eventually he looked back up and eyed you and Soap and Gaz who’d moved to your other side. The blue in his darkened irises could’ve been swamp water with the way they’d been tainted with frustration. Though even with all of his anger at the situation, he had visibly sagged as he recognised he was looking at things wrong.

“You’re right,” he grunted, rubbing his head and furling up his mask. “I’ll go apologise and see if I can’t get through the rest of our time together without murdering the bastard. Like you say, Sneak - not long till he fucks off.”

With that he left to go slink down the hall and catch König, still grumbling to himself even as he retreated. You and the rest of 141 laughed as he turned the corner and eyed each other, smiles slowly spreading across your mouths as if you’d just turned up to a mad hatters tea party. A moment of euphoria shared as you thanked your lucky stars that Ghost didn’t go Godzilla on all of you before he carried on with murdering König just as he’d said.

Though a small part of you still worried for your boyfriend. You’d winced a little when Ghost insulted him, but on the other side of the coin, you realised that with the mission coming to a close soon you’d be able to stop the obligatory concerns that came with König being on base. Soon you could carry on with your illicit affair and not worry one bit that Price would be any the wiser. What you can’t see can’t hurt you, right?

“Thought for sure ma neck was gonna get snapped there,” Soap chuckled.

“I know, I was picturing being the next skull he wore,” Gaz laughed, his nervousness expelled in a low rasp. “Fuck, Sneak. Next time you want to go on a crusade, give us a bit of warning.”

“I’d have loved to have given myself warning,” you snorted, still in disbelief you’d stood up to Ghost. “It just came out of me out of nowhere. If anyone was getting scalped there, it was gonna be me.”

“Well…at the very least, thank jesus,” Soap smirked, “Ghost listened rather than wringing yer little brass neck. But you know what, Sneaky? Next time you decide to have a brave moment like that, leave us the fuck out of it!”

“Yeah, let us get out of the blast radius first, and then go at him,” Gaz laughed, slapping your shoulder. 

With that they both walked off to the showers together and you rolled your eyes, following after them so that you weren’t hanging around the hallway by yourself. Your weary boots slapped against the floors and you continued to joke as you rounded the corner, feeling at ease as you got your mind focused on getting ready for the mission and the calm that would ensue after its completion. 

When you got to the changing room though, you frowned when you saw König’s things scattered. Normally he wasn’t one for throwing things around, he was usually quite careful to pile things up. However his shirt was sprawled on the ground and his trousers were hung over the benches like a set of bowlegs straddling a horse. Most unsettling of all was when you’d glanced down and saw the wooden bird you’d given him months before laying on the floor just under his upturned pockets. 

“Huh, big man must’ve been in a hurry to shower,” Soap noted.

“Probably wanted to try and hurry to avoid Ghost,” Gaz snorted. “Not that I can blame him, I’d hide from the LT too if I knew he was after me.”

You laughed along with the guys because it seemed like the thing to do, but the smile on your face dropped instantly afterward. Something wasn’t right. You gulped and looked over the mess of his clothes one last time and bit your lip, barely feeling the harsh scrape of your canine against your soft flesh. 

“You gonna wash up, Sneak?” Gaz asked, elbowing you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You’re standing there like a spare prick, Sneaky,” Soap laughed. “You gonna shower? Or are you cooking up a little pre-mission prank?”

“Don’t encourage that, Soap,” Gaz laughed. “We need to put all that to rest. Like Ghost said, this is the last time we have to see the guy. Let’s just get past it and pray we don’t ever work with KorTac again.”

“I’m not planning anything,” you said, stopping Soap in his tracks just as he picked up the hem of König’s shirt. “I agree with Gaz, let’s leave it, alright? I’m just gonna see where Ghost got to first then I’ll go shower. His stuff’s not here, so he must’ve gone off and I figure I should make sure he got away from König in one piece.”

“Ghost getting away from König?” Gaz snorted. “Think I’d worry more for the other way around…if I gave a shit about König that is.”

You gave another little weak laugh and walked off without anything else to say. You didn’t have anything else in the chamber. Your mind was too busy reeling and wondering where Ghost got to and why König’s stuff was laid out everywhere and all the ways you could combine those pieces of information into horrible conclusions.

You walked through the doorway to the opposite corridor and mindlessly carried yourself forward while your skin burned too hot and your stomach tightened into tiny knots. 

Did they have an argument? Did Ghost notice something about König’s things that gave you both away? Had he seen the bird and known it was yours? If so, how? You’d never shown anyone else the bird that you could remember, but then you cursed to yourself as you remembered your less than sound mental state and struggled to try and remember if you possibly had told the guys or shown them the bird at any point. 

Why did König have to carry it around with him? Why couldn’t he have left it in his room on base or secreted it away somewhere safe?

Were you being crazy? You reasoned you were being crazy. Maybe he really had just left his things in a hurry. Perhaps he did just want to get through his-

You felt your blood run cold when you heard a low growl tear you from your thoughts and speak your name, your real name.  

“You look lost.”

You glanced up after trailing your eyes along the gloomy grey floor and shivered as you finally noticed Ghost towering above you, casting a mighty shadow. He had his eyes fixed on you like a shark, cold and deadly as he surveyed your trembling form. He was glaring hot pits into your skin and from that moment on you had absolutely no doubt that he was onto you. 

He’d never looked at you like that in his entire time leading you. He looked furious, distressed, agitated, so many emotions were etched those glaring dark eyes of his and you were losing track trying to figure out how to best appeal to him. 

“I was trying to find you,” you murmured, barely speaking above a whisper. 

“Why would you be doing that then, ay?” he gritted out, walking toward you cornering you into a wall.

His boots sounded against the floor like canons. With the way he was acting, you worried he’d shove you and crush you underneath them. Though maybe that would be kinder than the fate he had in store for you…

“You.. you- uh, tossed König’s things didn’t you?” you whimpered.

“I did.”

“Why?” you breathed, feeling your eyes welling with tears before you could even attempt to think of calming yourself. 

“I’ll admit I got angry at the thought of having to go crawling and apologising to him and I lost it. I knocked his things off the bench. It went everywhere and shit went scattering out his pockets, y’know he left his wallet in his trousers, stupid cunt. Shouldn’t even have personal shit on a training exercise, but I suppose that’s what happens when you hire a bunch of undisciplined mercs… you know what I happened to see when I spotted his wallet though? You have any guesses, Sneak?”

You gulped and all of a sudden, it became all too clear to you exactly how Ghost had caught you out. 

“The photos,” you whispered.

“That’s right,” Ghost growled, “I saw the fucking photos of you two poking out of it.”

Next part here

#König #König x reader #konig x reader #konig #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2

[lalacliffthorne]

sometimes all you need is cuddles. and a nap. not specifically in that order.

(this made me melt. I might need cuddles now as well. *sighs deeply* these modern!batboys drabbles really scratch an itch in my brain.)

Letting the door fall shut behind me, I felt something warm shift under my ribs at the soft sound of the piano floating into the hall, chasing away some of the heavyness that had settled on my chest.

Slowly kicking off my shoes, I started shuffling towards the door to my room as the sound of the piano stopped, and a few seconds later, Rhys appeared in the door to the living room. He looked a little tired, his hair more tousled than usual, a strand sticking out at the side that made me want to reach out and smooth it down, but there was a trace of the usual twinkle in his nearly violet eyes.

"Hello." Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, Rhys sent me a light grin, a soft dimple forming in his cheek when he raised an eyebrow. "Respectfully, love, you look like shit."

I blinked at him. Once. Twice. Then I furrowed my brows in confusion. "What about that was respectful?"

Rhys grinned, and I huffed and breathed out, my bottom lip jutting out in a pout as I blinked tiredly and mumbled: "I need cuddles." I crunched my brows a little. "And a nap."

Rhys' lips curved. "That order a necessity or -"

"Nope." I shook my head, and breathing a soft chuckle, Rhys pushed off the doorframe, his eyes twinkling a little.

"Nap?"

Breathing out and turning around, I mumbled: "Let me get these clothes off."

"Not that kinda nap, darling."

"Oh, piss off."

I heard Rhys chuckle behind me and felt my lips curve into a soft grin, then I pushed open the door to my room.

Two minutes later, I trudged through Rhys' door, the scent of something warm and citrusy hitting me as I pulled the sleeve of my oversized sweatshirt over my hands. Rhys was already stretched out on his huge mattress, his eyes closed, and I just unceremoniously flopped down next to him, shuffling around to curl into his side and dropping my head onto his chest.

Rhys shifted in the spot, his arm wrapping over my shoulder and squeezing, and I tiredly poked his side.

"Why were you playing?"

I felt Rhys' chest rise and fall with a sigh, and when I peaked up at him, there was a soft crunch to his brows, his deep voice quiet when he mumbled: "Just needed a break."

Something tightened gently in my chest, and humming, I buried my nose in his hoodie again, my eyes slowly closing a little as I felt Rhys shift, patting my head a little.

"Why were you looking like you got rained on by a big cloud?"

This time, I was the one to sigh.

"Dunno." Feeling the gentle weight on my chest, I shrugged. "Jus' one of those days." I snuggled closer into his side, and Rhys gave a soft sound of acknowledgement.

Breathing out, I reached up and uncoordinatedly patted my hand over his face until he chuckled.

"'m sorry you´re feeling shitty,", I mumbled.

Rhys sighed, but I felt the crease in his cheek against my palm. "I'm sorry you look shitty."

I crunched my brows and tried to flick his forehead. I hit his nose instead, and a giggle broke from my lips when Rhys winced, grumbling under his breath.

"Sorry." I grinned into his hoodie, and Rhys huffed, pulling my hand away from his face, but I heard the way his lips curved when he mumbled: "Love you."

I smiled. "Love you too, Rhysie."

Rhys flicked my ear, and I giggled before breathing out. Curling into his side, I closed my heavy eyes, feeling myself slowly drift away to the rhythmic rise and fall of Rhys' chest.

Tiredly shifting in the spot, I buried my nose in the pillow I was clinging to as the haziness of sleep slowly pulled away. The sheets smelled dark and warm and citrusy and definitely not like my own.

"Hey."

The soft, low voice, just vibrating the tiniest bit with the trace of amusement made something skip gently against my ribs, then a warm hand wrapped around my ankle, squeezing gently, and furrowing my brows, I squinted, raising my head as I blinked disorientedly.

My eyes flickered over the room that was not my own, and the gentle weight on my chest shifted a little, reminding me where I was and why - until my gaze landed on the person sitting on the edge of Rhys' huge mattress, tall frame turned towards me, amber eyes warm in the half light and flickering over my face.

Grumbling softly, I dropped my head back onto the pillow someone seemed to have gently maneuvered into my arms. For a moment, I felt the warmth and haziness of sleep slowly pull away, then I laboriously sat up, rubbing a hand over my eyes. Pushing a strand of hair out of my face, I raised my head, and something skipped gently against my ribs when I blinked at Azriel, sending him a crooked, tired smile.

"Hi."

Azriel's lips curved the tiniest bit, but there was a soft crease between his brows as his gaze flickered over my face, and something rose in my chest at the silent question in his eyes.

"Just one of those days,", I mumbled, my voice still a little hoarse from sleep as I felt my lips rise, and Azriel blinked, the crunch of his brows smoothing a little.

"You okay?"

His deep, low voice sent tingling shivers through my body, warm and steady and slow, and I felt my lips rise just a little more, the small weight on my chest pulsing a little.

"Yep." I blinked and furrowed my brows, feeling my lips purse in a pout as I rubbed my eyes. "I think I might've overdone it with the nap though." I crunched my brows. "I feel like I need another one."

Azriel huffed, but there was a soft twinkle in his eyes as they moved over my face. "Anything else?"

I breathed out. "Cuddles. I need cuddles."

For a moment, Az stared at me. Then he leaned forward, and my heart got stuck in my throat when his hand slipped into between my legs, closing around the inside of my thigh and dragging me over the mattress. My breath hitched as something in my chest dipped and fell, then Azriel dipped down and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his lap, and when my eyes met his, wide and frozen, one corner of his lips just quirked gently. This close, I could see the golden specks in his eyes, and the curve of his lashes, and the sharpness of his cheekbones over the trace of a crease right next to his lips.

"Okay." His voice vibrated through me, warm and steady and amused, and I blinked, feeling something flutter against my ribs.

Azriel huffed softly, then his hand slipped up my back, gently pulling me forward and tucking me into his chest. His arms came around me, wrapping me up in a warm hug as he propped his chin onto my head; something rose under my ribs, and without being able to help it, without wanting to, I slowly melted into him.

I didn't know how long I was curled up in Azriel's arms, but it was long enough for his scent to fill my lungs and for me to completely bury myself in his chest. His thumb was brushing over my shoulder, and his grip was shifting between gentle and relaxed to squeezing gently.

Finally, I straightened slowly, pulling back, my fingers slipping from where they had curled into his sweatshirt, and when I raised my head, my breath got stuck somewhere in my lungs.

Azriel's nose was just an inch away, the golden flecks in his eyes dancing softly as they slowly moved over mine, deep and twinkling just the tiniest bit.

Swallowing, I pulled back my head a little and felt my cheeks flush softly, and Azriel's arms slipped from my shoulders as one corner of his lips curved.

There was a deep, muffled call of Azriel's name from outside, and Az rolled his eyes, but it broke the way his gaze seemed to have bound mine.

I blinked, then I huffed and slid off his lap, and Azriel pushed himself to his feet as I clambered off the mattress. Stretching, I shook myself off a bit, blinking and crunching my brows, and Azriel's lips curved. Then his chest bumped into my back, and something tipped over under my ribs when his hands closed over my shoulders and he gently started to push myself towards the door.

In the hall, I could already hear Cassian and Rhys bicker. Az gently nudged me into the kitchen, and I felt my lips curve at the sight of Cassian trying to sneak his spoon into the big pot on the stove and Rhys fending him off with a spatula.

"Fucking hell,", Azriel mumbled drily somewhere above me, and I felt a soft giggle build in my throat.

"Hey..." Cassian tossed his spoon into the sink and opened his arms, and I flopped into his chest readily, burying my nose in his t-shirt as Cass wrapped me up in a warm, tight hug. I could feel him drop his head to lean his chin onto my head, swaying me gently from side to side as he mumbled: "You okay, sweets?"

I smiled into his chest. "'m better."

"Yeah?" Cassian pulled back his head, and when I tipped mine back to look up at him, his huge hands came up to frame my face. Scrunching his brows a little as he considered me, one corner of his lips quirked.

"Rhys is right, you do look a little like shit."

I glowered at him, and Cassian broke into a wide grin, the scar on the side of his face shifting as he squished my cheeks between his palms until I crunched my brows. Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss onto my forehead, followed by another, and another, until I couldn't hold back the giggle that built in my throat.

Squeezing my face, Cassian sent me a grin, then he wrapped me up in his arms again, swaying us in a circle until something was rising warmly in my chest.

When he finally let me go, it was with a wink and a gentle flick to my forehead. Flipping him off, I turned, patting Rhys' arm in passing and earning myself another light wink, then I climbed onto the couch at the dining table, plopping down and curling up in the corner with a sigh. Snuggling into my sweatshirt, I watched Rhys and Cassian pick up their bickering, Rhys defending the big pot with his spatula like a sword, and I felt my lips slowly curve upwards.

The cushions dipped, and Azriel plopped down on the other end of the couch, stretching out his long legs as he draped an arm over the backrest. Something began to flutter against my ribs at the way his eyes twinkled in the warm kitchen light, and there was a soft gentle pull in my chest when the corners of his lips curved in amusement.

Breathing out, I turned my eyes back ahead, feeling a gentle thrum in my chest.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate123 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds

#drabble #modern!roommate batboys series #acotar x reader #azriel #rhys #rhysand #cassian #az #az imagine #az x reader #az/reader #azriel imagine #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader #azriel drabble #acowar #acotar #acomaf #azriel fluff #rhysand imagine #rhys imagine #cassian imagine #rhys drabble #rhysand drabble #cassian drabble #modern au #lalacliffthorne

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 1

Hello! And welcome to this fun little fusion that I came up with here. If anyone can find the post about gay legal troubles after gay marriage was legalized (I think was originally about polyamory divorces) let me know so I can link here, too.

Summary: Eddie is a successful tattoo artist in Seattle and is engaged to be married to Chrissy. Only there is one problem. Well, technically three. You see, back before the Supreme Court ruled that gay marriage was a right and not a privilege Eddie had gotten married in a couple of different states to different people. But now that's it's legal, he's a bigamist and he has to get his exes to divorce him. Which is easy enough for two of the three, not so much for the third. You see the third just isn't just any ex, it's the ex. Steve Harrington. So now he has to go down to Hawkins and try to convince the person he thought he was going to spend his life with to divorce him. Something much easier said then done, especially when Eddie finds himself falling back in love.

EDDIE IS GAY IN THIS BUT THERE ARE REASONS OKAY!

****

Eddie’s life was good. Let it be said that it was really good. He knew that. But he had regrets. Didn’t everyone?

He regretted how his band broke up. It wasn’t his fault, but he hadn’t seen the cracks when they had started to show. He hadn’t seen how tired Jeff was getting or how fucked Gareth was. He hadn’t seen that Brian was only phoning it in every night.

So when it all fell apart after a concert in Seattle, he was left holding the pieces of his band and his broken heart. He had gotten a job as a tattoo apprentice and had worked really hard to get his own chair.

He had friends. Good ones. Jeff had stayed in Seattle, too. Gareth had gone into rehab and had moved to a small village in the south of France. Brian had gotten married and moved back to Indiana where he became a teacher and lived a quiet life. The life he had always wanted.

Then there was Chrissy. He loved her so much. They had met when she came into the tattoo parlor to get a tattoo covered. She wanted to cover the name of her ex-boyfriend with a purple violet. Eddie had smiled at her when she asked.

It was some of his best work, if he was honest.

She was a legal assistant that had just gotten her paralegal degree and was trying to get a work visa.

She had come over to the USA from Barbados. A little island country in the Caribbean.

He didn’t know how she could stand living in damp Seattle after being born on sun-soaked shores under glistening palm trees. But Chrissy was adamant that she loved being in Washington where it rained almost all the time.

Eddie was on a mission. One that he had sworn to Chrissy that he would do today.

He walked into the county clerk’s office and applied for a marriage license for him and Chrissy.

“I’m sorry Mr. Munson,” the clerk told him, “but our records show that you have not one, not two but three marriages in three different states.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide.

“What?” He would remember that, surely.

“To a William Hargrove in Hawaii, a Thomas M. Hagan in New York, and Steven J. Harrington in Massachusetts,” the woman said, holding up her reading glasses in front of her face to read off the list.

“But those were only legal in the state they were preformed in, right?” he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

The woman shook her head. “Not since the Supreme Court ruled that it was legal for gays to get married. It’s cause a lot of trouble for a lot you people, let me tell you.”

Eddie knocked his knuckle on the counter and licked his lips. “Shit.”

She grimaced sympathetically. “I’m sorry, but before you can get a marriage license in the state of Washington, you’ll have to provide divorce decrees from all three of your exes.”

Eddie pounded on the counter this time with his open palm. “Thanks.”

He walked away and he heard her call out, “Next!”

Shit, shit, shit.

This was going to be hell, he could feel it.

****

Chrissy had fast food waiting for him when he got home from work.

“Did you get the license?” she asked, handing him his food and drink.

Eddie buried his head in his hands. “No, because stupid gay marriage legalization made all gay marriages legal, no matter what state you preformed them in.”

“Oh.”

She sat down hard. “So your three marriages suddenly count?”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmured. “I don’t even know where any of them are. Like I assume Steve’s still in Hawkins, because he’d never leave, but the other two? I have no fucking idea.”

She patted him on the shoulder and said, “We’ll find a way. The law firm has investigators on staff for this very reason. It might take a while, but we’ll find them.

Eddie nodded. “I’m sorry.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and sat down on his lap. “I’m not. You didn’t know. Otherwise you would have taken care of it when Obergefell v. Hodges went through the Supreme Court.”

Eddie nodded, but he pursed his lips, his hands up around her waist to hold her steady.

“Let’s just eat and I’ll start work on it tomorrow,” she murmured. “Okay?”

“Mmk,” he muttered.

****

Three weeks later, Eddie had in hand two of the three annulments. Billy had sent his back with a little note that said, “With pleasure.” Tommy had merely sent his back without comment.

That was a relief. He was no longer bound to either of those two assholes. He wasn’t even sure what possessed him to marry them in the first place.

Well, okay. He did. He was far away from home, lonely and willing to connect with anyone who would fuck him.

He was getting ready to call Chrissy to her the good news when the phone rang under his hand.

Eddie frowned at it for a moment, before he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” the familiar voice sounded through the cell phone.

“This is he,” he replied, still confused.

“If you want to divorce me, you asshole,” Steve spat, “then have the fucking courage to tell me to my face.”

“Steve?” Eddie asked, his confusion still there, but for a different reason now. How did he get his number?

“Yeah,” Steve hissed. “Remember me? The man you left for fame and fortune? How is that going, by the way?”

Eddie gritted his teeth. “You know full well we broke up, I know Dustin still talks to you.”

He could hear Steve snap his fingers. “That’s right. You broke up. And until you tell me to my face you want to do the same, you take your annulment and shove it up your ass.”

“Stevie...” Eddie pleaded.

“Don’t ‘Stevie’ me,” Steve growled. “Fuck you.”

And the phone went dead then Eddie turned his phone around to see that yes, Steve had disconnected the call.

“Fuck.”

****

Eddie called Chrissy with the news. Two yeses and a ‘fuck you’.

“All right, Ed,” she said. “There is more to this than you’ve been telling me, so you are coming over to my apartment with the annulments you got and you are going to spill. Capeesh?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” she huffed and then hung up.

Looked like today was hang up on Eddie day. He sat down at the table both annulments spread out in front of him and buried his head in his hands.

After a few minutes of allowing himself to break down, he picked up the papers and grabbed his keys, wallet, and cell phone.

Time to face the music.

****

Chrissy opened the door with a scowl, but softened when she saw how miserable Eddie looked.

He handed her the annulments and she put them her bag to take to work so that they could be filed with county clerk.

“Tell me about Steve Harrington.”

So Eddie did.

He told her about how they had bonded over a bunch of kids. Kids Steve had used to babysit, but once they got into high school came under Eddie’s wing as leader and DM of the D&D club called The Hellfire Club. How they had gotten together and when Massachusetts made it legal, him, Steve, Jeff, and Steve’s best friend Robin all drove out to Boston and Steve and he got married in a little court house.

“My Uncle Wayne was pissed he wasn’t there,” Eddie said. “But it was spur of the moment thing. We drove all night and got there that afternoon. We put on little suits and let the judge say his words.”

“That sounds sweet, so what happened?”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Gareth graduated from high school and we got an offer to record an album in New York.”

“Why didn’t he go with you?” she asked gently.

Eddie rubbed his nose. “Because the kids still had two years left of school. He wanted to be there for them. A couple of them didn’t have good home lives and he wanted to make sure they had someone they could count on. We fought about it. Hard.”

“I’m sorry, cher,” she whispered giving his arm a squeeze.

“God,” Eddie said, his voice cracking. “The things we said to each other. It was bad, Chris.”

“And now he won’t sign the papers?” she asked.

He shook his head. “He told me the only way he’d sign anything is I came back to Hawkins and handed it to him myself.”

Chrissy nodded. “All right,” she said, “here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to get a proper divorce degree written up, making sure it’s worded so he knows you won’t be going after any assets he has and then you are taking a week off of work and going down there and facing him. Because holy fucking hell, Ed, he deserves some kind of closure as do you.”

Eddie let out a heartbreaking sigh. “I don’t know if I can face him, Chris. God, I put everything else before him and broke his heart. He always wanted this big wedding. A beautiful reception where all our friends and loved ones were there. A beautiful grey morning jacket with a proper boutonniere and saying his vows across from the one he loved. And instead he got an empty court house and broken promises from a screw up like me.”

She wrapped her arms around him and let him sob into her shoulder.

“Which is why you need to go down there and give him that closure,” she murmured, “so that he can have all that with someone else. Someone who isn’t afraid.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, just let me know when it’s ready and I’ll take one of my vacation weeks to go to Hawkins, Indiana.”

Chrissy winced. “Maybe don’t sound like you’re going to your funeral, yeah?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned he was going to a funeral. Maybe not his own, but the death of the first real relationship he ever had and if somehow he made it out alive, he was never going to be the same again.

****

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rom com au #minor hellcheer

[dfortrafalgar]

Watching You In The Morning

Inspired by “Watching You In The Morning” by Waltzin

Law x Fem Reader

Warnings: fluff, kinda poetic? more narrative study than plot, more fluff

Also posted on AO3

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

The rise and fall of your chest was a perfect metronome, as if you were dancing along to the patter of raindrops as they fell against the submersible’s porthole.  In your deep, whimsical slumber, you would never even know of the romantic waltz your very presence exuded upon the man in the bed next to you.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Slow, methodical.  His tattooed fingers dusted fleetingly across the skin of your neck, reaching out to you with reserve, with apprehension, with want.  He felt himself smile, chapped lips tugging ever so slightly at his cheeks at the sight of your serenity, lost in the haze of your dreams.  You were truly beautiful.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

He could watch your breathing forever.  He could die at the crevice of your chest, just to know that you were still inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling.  To know that you were alive, that your flesh was warm with your blood, that your nerves could feel his hands against your skin, was plenty for him.  He forever worshiped the ground you walked on, relishing in your every moment.  Every word you spoke, every blink of your eyes, curve of your smile, every time your perfect hand fit snugly into his like a statue carved from the finest marble.

His calloused fingers traced invisible lines up your neck, towards your jaw, barely touching you enough to feel the slight fuzz of your natural facial hair.  He ghosted across your dimpled skin, absorbing the heat you radiated, memorizing every cell he could touch.  His eyes darted toward your lips, parted ever so slightly to breathe.

In.

Out.

When his slate-gray eyes looked back up toward yours, you were also looking back at him.  You blinked in slow motion, eyes heavy with the waning of your slumber.  You grinned at him, a sight that made the cold man’s heart do pierrouets, fluttering below his ribcage.  Any more unbridled affection towards him would make his chest rip open in a flood of snow-white doves.

With exhaustion on your tongue, voice crackling without being used, you spoke.  “Were you watching me?”

His fingers retraced their steps along your skin, landing at your collarbones where he mimicked the line of your bone.  “How could I not?”

You laughed.  A sound so bright, so warm, almost too warm.  A sound that made his body lighter, his hair stand on end.  A sound that filled his senses with yellow and violet hues, that smelled like peaches and lavender, that engulfed him in a sweet embrace of a hearth’s heat.  Your laugh made the walls he had spent a decade building up crumble with vigor, chips of glass falling to the ground and shattering into irreparable pieces.

Pieces that he was starting to think did not need to be repaired.

He adjusted his body with the motion of you shuffling closer to him, nestling yourself perfectly in the crevice of his shoulder, his arms around your body, secure and safe.  He smelled of cedar and ethanol, a faint tinge of gasoline and the essence of sugar.  You melted like butter in his hold, paralyzed in his arms, a willing prisoner of his presence.  You felt his chest rise and fall with his shallow breaths.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Your own air tickled the skin of his breast, tiny, gentle feathers in a spring breeze.  Your fingers crawled along his side before looping your arm under his and pulling your body ever closer.  Oh how you wished you could break the universe for just one moment, to part his atoms and truly become one with him.  Even just a zeptosecond would be enough.

“If you keep thinking this hard, you might blow a fuse.”  His low voice rumbled against your head.

“How did you know?” you responded, voice light and airy, lovestruck and dumb.

He released a chuckle from his throat.  “I just had a feeling.”

Silence once again fell over the two of you.  Save for the continuous rain that fell, a faded noise in the backdrop of the aura he surrounded you with.  Washing away all worries, all fears.

“Can we stay like this forever?”

The question surprised you.  It wasn’t like him to ask such silly, menial queries.  Ever the pessimist, ever the analytical scientist.  He lived for the truth of the world and the facts of life.  He had you for the optimism and the joy for life that he lacked, a perfect balance.  The Yang to his Yin.

You simply hummed.  Tilting your head up to meet his eyes, you felt your blood rush to your face like a flame.  “Forever.”

His arms squeezed you once, then twice.  He sighed, melancholy.  The rain continued to fall, the vessel continued to sway monotonously on the surface of the vast, open ocean, but you stayed anchored to his bed, to his sheets, in his unmoving arms.

He smiled again.  “Thank you.”

No response was followed, and no response was needed.  Your breaths fanning against his skin were more than enough.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

#trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #law x reader #op x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #x female reader #law x you #law oneshot

[kairoot]

. ﹙★﹚THE COLOR VIOLET. | 희승

PAIRING : heeseung x f.reader ➖ GENRE : angst, 80s au, high school au ➖ REQUESTED : no ➖ WARNINGS : lowercase intended, pet names, break-up, no happy ending, swearing, let me know if I missed anything! ➖ WC : 1.6K

SECTION SONG: the color violet by tory lanez

.˚ *꒰ঌ ✦ ໒꒱ * ˚. —

apologizing was hard, but accepting an apology you didn’t believe in also proved to be difficult. there were not enough fingers on your hands to count how many times heeseung had apologized for causing you trouble.

whether he wasn’t communicating or distancing himself randomly. but his biggest issue was keeping his promises.

that was definitely something he lacked in your relationship and it was getting old. he’d fill your head with all these fantasies, sweet talking you until it was time to actually act on what he’s saying.

you used to believe him, getting your hopes high when he would tell you things but disappointed when they wouldn’t come true. now, you wouldn’t even bat a lash at anything he was saying. cause in the end it would never happen.

you sat on the bleachers in the gym, watching everyone dance around with friends or their partner. your chin rested in your hand as you thought to yourself. staying at home with a cola in your hand and watching full house play on the television screen seemed like a much better idea. you wondered why you didn’t go with that choice rather than believing heeseung when he said he’d be joining you that night.

a few guys had gave you glances, showing that they were interested and some even came up to you, but you were in no mood to move around. and even though you planned to end things with heeseung, that didn’t mean your loyalty wouldn’t remain.

before you could let your eyes wander anywhere else, one of the large double doors of the gym flew open. your eyes widened as your boyfriend entered the building, hair and suit soaked from what you assumed was rain.

his eyes hurriedly scanned through the huge crowd of high schoolers, hoping to spot you somewhere on the dance floor.

your feet had began to move down the bleachers before you could even think about it. you scrambled to the drink section hoping that he didn’t catch sight of you.

a sudden feeling of anxiousness washed over you as you poured the red beverage into the matching cup. you gulped it down, trying to rid the dryness in your mouth.

a hand on the small of your back was the reason your drink almost came back up, the sound of your coughing was heard in the small area.

“woah, take it easy on the ‘punch’, maybe?”

there he stood in front of you now, showing off his intoxicating grin. you would’ve fell all the way into his arms if you didn’t have morals.

you avoided his gaze, staring down at the empty cup. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him and say those words all at once.

“hey,” the tip of his finger came to lift your chin, doe eyes looking back into yours.

“you okay?”

you nodded, still looking up at him, feeling a bit vulnerable under his stare.

“c’mon.” he smiled again, starting to lead you toward the dance floor.

“no.” you pulled your hand away from his, remaining in your spot at the drink table.

heeseung looked at you once more, a concerned expression spreading over his features.

“what?”

“i can’t do this, heeseung.” you placed your cup to the side, finally bringing yourself to look at him.

“what.. what do you mean?”

he’d hoped you didn’t mean what he thought you meant but you did. everything that heeseung had put you through caused you anything but happiness.

“you know what i mean.” you sighed.

“baby, you don’t really mean it.” he gave you a half-hearted smile, his hand coming to caress the side of your face.

“as much as i’d hate to admit it, hee.. i do. i mean it.”

for a moment, there was only the sound of music blaring and people cheering around you. heeseung seemed like he couldn’t bring himself to say anything so you continued.

“to be honest with you, this relationship hasn’t brought me much happiness and i think that should change.” you removed his hand from your cheek as it came to rest at his side.

his body tensed up as your words seeped into his brain. this was the talk he knew that was coming but never wanted to hear.

“and i.. i just can’t continue like this, hee. not when you can’t even keep your promises.” you tried to be transparent with him but careful not to hurt him either.

“y/n, i’ll do better i-“

“will you, though? or is that just what you’ve told me the last couple of hundred times?” you tilted your head slightly.

“you know, i had to get a ride from jen and her boyfriend because you clearly forgot about tonight.” your hand came up, gesturing to his damp appearance.

he sighed, shaking his head, “look, baby, you know i didn’t mean to..”

“you never do, do you, hee?” you asked, rhetorically.

once again, he couldn’t answer to your words and could barely look you in the eye.

you took one more glance at him before walking off to another corner of the gym.

heeseung felt his eyes burning as he took the cup you were drinking from and took a sip from it.

after realizing he couldn’t stand being in the same place he had his heart broken in and with all the love songs playing, he took long strides toward the double doors he came in, now exiting through them.

the rain still came down like pellets on him as he struggled to find his dark tinted car.

he stumbled toward the door, unlocking it and sliding in the drivers seat. the engine started as the key entered the ignition and he pulled out of the school parking lot, already doing 90 in the rain.

heeseung wasn’t angry at you, per se. actually, he was quite frustrated with himself. he didn’t blame you for breaking up with him. it was his own fault that his heart got broken and that you couldn’t have the happiness that you deserved.

★ ★

milan’s note: LOL no joke this sucks ik.. i havent had the chance to write a longer fic in a while and this clearly shows but i wanted to try something new! first sentence prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting

TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz — message or comment to be added

#kairoot #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #heeseung x yn #heeseung x you #enhypen heeseung #heeseung enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction

[bookish-whore]

Haunted

Azriel x Reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: Descriptions of sexual assault, violence, discussions and flashbacks to SA

A/N: this one is a request sent to me by the lovely @ominisgoldie I hope it is everything you wanted and more, I had the most wonderful time writing it.

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

“Come on dear, give us a twirl” her voice crooned

I spun, trying to use my hands to cover my exposed breasts from the prying eyes of the fae gathered here but my efforts were in vain as a tall male approached me, a set of irons in his large hands.

I frantically met the violet eyes of my friend, my one protector in this place and his wild look told me that she was in no mood for games tonight. she was out for blood.

“Please Amarantha, m-my queen I- I don’t know anything” I screamed retreating the few feet I could to escape the male approaching me.

“We’ve been over this dear, this isn’t about you” she sneered from her throne “Loras, you may continue with your assigned task.”

“NO” I screamed “PLEASE”

Loras quickly approached me, shoving a piece of fabric in my mouth. Amarantha hated to hear me screaming the last time she said it spoilt her fun. He made quick work securing me to the wall my arms over my head, so I was unable to fight back.

I took a deep breath, a familiar darkness entering my consciousness that told me Rhys was in my mind “Y/n it’ll be okay, I’m here, I am with you. I promise he will suffer for this.”

“I can’t Rhys, not again” I said back my eyes pleading with his to end my suffering, to kill me or break my mind so I wouldn’t need to face the guilt of what was going to happen.

“You are so strong y/n, she cannot break you, you will make it back to him. I promise”

I closed my eyes, listening to the soft clinking of metal as Loras and another male closed in on me. I could smell his breath, rotten like decay as he leaned in close, his accomplice prying my legs open as he lined himself up with me. I squeezed my eyes tighter hoping that it would lessen the pain if I refused to watch.

“Come on darling, show me those pretty eyes while I take you” Loras said

I jerked awake in bed, the events of my captivity fading from my mind as I tried to regulate my breathing. The same phrases repeating themselves on a loop in my head:

I survived, she was dead, I was safe now, I was home. I survived, she was dead, I was safe now, I was home. I survived, she was dead, I was safe now, I was home. I survived, she was dead, I was safe now, I was home.

As my room settled around me, and my heartbeat returned to its normal rhythm, I knew exactly what I needed, and where I needed to be. I threw on my dressing gown and without a second thought I made my way up the stairs to the rooftop. I pushed the door open quietly, my senses picking up the familiar scent of rain and citrus. He was here, he was always here.

“Fancy some company” I called out alerting him to my presence.

“From you?” Rhys said not bothering to look behind him “Always.”

I made my way to the edge of the roof where he sat perched, his wings relaxed behind him. He patted the space beside him, and I quickly took my seat. He passed me a bottle of dark liquid, no doubt from his personal collection knowing that I needed my senses to be dull at this time of night, especially after the nightmares.

“The same?” Rhys asked finally looking over at me.

“Yep” I answer “you?”

“Mhmm” he agreed.

A few moments of silence passed between us.

“Azriel’s worried you know” Rhysand finally says grabbing the bottle back, before taking a long drink from the deep amber liquid.

“I know” I reply softly looking down at the sparkling city lights below “I just don’t know how to separate him from everything else, in my head I know that he loves me, that he would never hurt me but when he touches me it just instantly takes me back there, back to her games”

“Have you told him anything about under the mountain?”

“I don’t know how to tell him Rhys, I mean how do you even start that conversation ‘hey please promise you still love me even though I was repeatedly unfaithful to you because I was drugged and forced to please various men for Amarantha’s entertainment’ he’ll never look at me the same way and I don’t know if I can take that kind of rejection”

“You’re mates, all you have to do is let him in, let him see. y/n I have known him for centuries and there is nothing you could tell him that would make him love you any less”

“I’ll talk to him soon, I swear I just-” I grabbed the bottle from his hand taking another gulp, the burning sensation numbing my senses “I just need more time”

“I of all people am not rushing you, nor am I saying Az is entitled to know what happened before you’re ready. What I am saying is that of all people he is the most qualified person to help you and it is killing him that he can’t” Rhys said

“Do you think the bond is enough” I asked quietly

“Enough for what” he asked.

“To fix all the broken parts of me” I said, the tears I was holding in freely falling.

“Hey, hey, hey” he said softly, attempting to soothe me “there is nothing broken about you. you are a survivor and I know if you gave Az a chance, he would tell you the same.”

“How can you be sure?” I said wiping my face with my hands “would you be able to forgive me?”

“Would you forgive me?” he asked

“For what?” I asked

“For not doing enough” he admitted solemnly

“You did everything you could given the situation” I took his hand in mine “Rhys you endured for decades as her personal pet to protect everyone back here and you were there for me in every way you could be.”

“If only you could give yourself the same grace you give others”

“I know that he has an idea of what happened, and I’m sure that his imagination might be worse than what actually happened but would confirming his suspicions really help? Or would he look at me like I was a stranger. Could he still love me knowing what h-happened to me?”

“Only one way to find out” he said.

Rhysand winnowed me to Azriels apartment, well rather the street leading to his apartment. After we talked for a while, he told me that I should try to do this but still gave me the option of running away.

I anxiously wrung my hands together as I walked the familiar steps up to what used to be our apartment. The memories came flooding back of all the excitement I felt moving in here with him, accepting the mating bond and all the nights spent whispering our future plans to each other, the fights we had over paint colors and how he broke my favorite bowl. but that was before, and could he still love who I was now? Who I had become to survive that place and its tortures?

Standing here I debated my options then I nervously rapped my knuckles against the door.

What the hell was I doing? I thought suddenly realizing he was probably dead asleep considering it was well past midnight.

As I turned to leave, my resolve disintegrating with the effects of the alcohol, I heard the sound of the lock turning and the door opening. I quickly spun around, coming face to face with a very disheveled looking shadowsinger. My heart swelled in my chest at the sight of him.

“Hi” I croaked, my throat suddenly dry at the thought of sharing everything with my mate

“Sweetheart?” he asked running a hand through his hair “A-are you hurt? Is everything alright?”

“I- I didn’t mean to wake you, and now that I’m here it seems so ridiculous. I- I should go” I spun on my heel, practically running down the stairs that led back to the street.

“Y/n wait!” he called after me, I heard the loud flap of his wings as he flew into the air, landing directly in front of me, halting me in my tracks his arms grasping my shoulders to keep me still, in his panic he didn’t mean to touch me and rationally I knew that, but my body was instantly revolted by his touch and my reaction was out of my control.

“NO!” I screamed “PLEASE NOT AGAIN”

I collapsed into a ball on the sidewalk, retreating from his touch, unable to control the tears that streamed down my face or the fear that pulsed through my veins.

“Please y/n, j-just let me- fuck- just let me help you” he pleaded, his shadows swirling anxiously around us as he fought every instinct driving him to comfort me. “Please come inside, you don’t have to say anything. I just- I just need to know that you’re safe.”

I reluctantly accepted and stood wiping the dirt from my bottom as I made my way back up the steps. He followed behind me, careful not to touch me as we walked into the space. Everything was eerily the same as the day I was forced to leave it.

“Can I get you some tea?” Azriel asked tentatively.

I nodded “I’ll take-

“Black with two sugars and milk?” he said instinctively, cutting me off, his eyes met mine and were frantic like his interruption would send me running back to the townhouse.

“That would be perfect” I said with a reassuring smile that I know didn’t meet my eyes

His back turned to me, his wings tense as he started the kettle and got our usual mugs prepared. It only took a few minutes before he was approaching handing me my favorite cup with my tea exactly how I liked, I set it on the table in front of where I was seated on the sofa and he took the seat opposite me, also placing his mug on the coffee table while it cooled.

“You look- better” he said softly “T-than I last saw you, I mean.”

“I feel better than the last time you saw me” I replied my voice hoarse from screaming earlier

I was worried he would interrogate me immediately about why I was here at this hour of the night, but instead we sat in silence, but somehow it didn’t feel tense. He was waiting to see what pieces of my fractured soul I would offer up eager to take whatever I could give him.

“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here” I finally said

“This is your place too y/n, whether or not you currently stay here you are always welcome. No excuse needed”

“Az- I- I came here tonight with the intention of telling you some things, about what happened while I was- while I was gone”

“You don’t need tell me y/n, not unless you’re ready” Azriel said softly

“The thing is Az, I want to tell you. I want to tell you more than anything I just- I just don’t know how to get the words out without you hating me, or- or looking at me differently”

“There’s nothing you could have done that would change my opinion of you.”

“Don’t say that” I begged

“It’s true” he said desperately, I managed to meet his gaze, as I stared into those beautiful hazel eyes that had seen all my scars and loved me anyways I strengthened my resolve. He deserved the truth.

“Don’t say that until you’ve seen everything”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, searching for the bond. It had been so long since I felt the effects of the mating bond, the glowing rope that connected our very souls. As I searched my mind for the familiar pathway back to him a pit formed in my stomach, I was nervous to tell him, nervous for his reaction. But regardless of the outcome this was a step towards healing, for me. I found the string in my mind, deconstructing the mental barriers that had shielded Azriel from our connection and with a thought, I tore it down.

Azriel gasped suddenly, breaking the silence between us.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I- I can feel you again” he said softly grasping at his chest where his heart is, I felt a rush of emotion, it was comforting and familiar, like coming home after a long time away.

“I can feel you too” I whispered tears glistening in my eyes.

“I don’t think I can tell you what happened” I said softly “b-but I can show you.”

“I just want you to know that you don’t have to y/n” Az said “you being alive, being here…it’s enough- it’s enough for me”

“I know Az- but I want to. I need to. I need you to know what I went through and why it’s going to take a long time for me to be okay again”

“okay” he agreed “If you’re ready.”

I took a deep breath, unlocking the mental door that kept all my memories from Under the Mountain at bay, and I imagined myself walking through it taking him along with me. I held his hand as I showed him the early years of torture. The starvation, the beatings, the general cruelty that came with Amarantha’s abuse, but as we walked further into the recesses of my memory the images became darker. The first time she drugged me and forced me to dance naked on every male under the mountain, how she would let her favorites have their way with me whenever they pleased. How she would force Rhys to watch knowing that I was a friend of his from the outside word.

I felt him tense through the bond, rage and despair flowing through the bond as he watched the last assault, the one that gave me nightmares, the one that left me injured and unable to speak for weeks.

I brought us back to reality, and noticed the way he wiped the tears from his eyes, trying to hide the effect my memories had on him, but it was like a dam breaking and before I knew it his head was between his knees as his body was wracked with sobs, his shoulders and wings shaking with the force of his grief.

I slowly inched over to where he sat, until our knees were almost touching. almost.

“Az-” I said softly, my hand bringing his chin to my level.

“I shouldn’t be the one breaking down here, I should- I should be comforting you but how can I? How can I help you? C-can I touch you?” he begged “Please- I-I just want to hold you”

I shook my head “Az- I know in my head that it’s you, and that you would never hurt me but somewhere along the way the signals get twisted and I’m back there, with her…with them and I just can’t figure out how to stop it.” I met his tortured gaze “All I want is for you to hold me and tell me it’s going to be alright but-” I choked back a sob “I don’t think it is”

“Hey- hey- listen to me y/n” Azriel said getting to his knees on the floor in front of me, but still maintaining enough distance that we didn’t touch. “You are my mate, my love, my life, my very reason for existing. If you need time, I’ll give you an eternity so long as through it all I can stand by your side. I could go the rest of my life not touching you so long as your heart is beating. I waited a thousand years to know you, and if I must spend another thousand getting to know who you now; then so be it. Time is nothing to me, it means nothing to me…you mean everything to me and I will spend the rest of my life making sure that you know that.”

I couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down my face at his confession. I had been so sure that he would be revolted, that he would want nothing more to do with me, that I was tainted but I was wrong.

“So, you still love me” I managed to choke out meeting his hazel eyes, emotion swimming in them.

“Until the stars are a whisper of dust in the sky, Until the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, until the oceans run dry and ramiel is carried away like a leaf in the wind. There is no part of you that I do not see that I do not love; that I would not worship if you let me.”

I flung my arms around him, needing to feel the steady beat of his heart to know that this was real. That I was safe. He didn’t dare move a muscle; his body frozen as I clung to him desperately. “You can hold me,” I said softly, without a second thought his arms wrapped around me finding their place as I sunk into his lap. He brought his hand to cup the back of my head and simply held me while I cried, while I released the tidal wave of emotions I didn’t realize I was holding in. he pressed a delicate kiss to my temple while he sent feelings of love and reassurance down the bond.

And finally, after five decades I was home.

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#acotar series #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #rhysand x reader #request

[hamofjustice]

y'know, it's funny, from replaying pokemon scarlet / violet basegame, i'm pretty sure if you're not internet poisoned, then one of the most memorable things about nemona could be that she only battles you half or less of the times that she checks in to help you because she wants it to be perfect and fair for you and really doesn't want to annoy you, to the point it almost seems like she's making excuses NOT to battle you, not that she's a wild dog that's stalking you and will not leave you alone. one of her earliest character establishing moments is looking directly into the camera with puppy dog eyes and apologizing profusely for wanting a rematch because she had fun

she's in the gyms because she's also doing the gyms! she gets really embarrassed that it looks like she's following you around and decides not to battle you to prove she's not! if she is, she's probably following you because geeta asked her to, and clavell literally said she should take you under her wing! she usually gives you advance warning that she's going to be taking you on soon!

in particular, once you're out of the tutorial she talks to and helps you without battling you for the first three badges of her own questline

it's always, like, clavell and geeta being like 'smh get a load of this girl, she needs to back off, who does she think she is, gary oak?' with their body language. the "oops, nemona didn't realize that cutscene didn't heal you" thing the game keeps doing feels kinda forced.

maybe it's just pokemon writing being what it is (i really don't know why they act like she'd use her champion team against your starter, she just picked a starter, what are you talking about. make her look overeager in a way that makes sense with her character or anyone over the age of 5 please) but the way nemona actually is not matching the way everyone talks about her seems to be a thing in universe and out, and i want to remember this rather than fall into a telephone game of what the plot actually was

if anything, I wish she was less afraid to annoy the player, and more present in the game! y'know, appearing in the sidelines during gym battles with the rest of the crowd rather than the text simply saying she was, for example

idk, I wonder if things would be different if the most vocal pokemon "fans" didn't hate characters interacting with them. maybe I want a brock and misty with me the whole game. maybe biri biri and after the rain are the experience I want

acting like the character who puts our enjoyment above her own and is afraid to annoy us still annoyed us is how we get a DLC that never mentions her or the other main characters of the story in 9 months of promotional materials and, maybe someday, a gen 10 with no friends at all.

#pokemon sv #nemona #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarvio #nemona pokemon #nemonaposting #sorry for editing this ten times while it got its first reblog

[vaguekiwi]

What were the scenes in Violet Rain and Omega's Intuition that no one clued in on??

(in reference to the tags on this post)

So, to my readers' credit, I can't say for sure no one ever clued in on these things. I'm sure tons of readers understood them, but I assume no one felt the same way as I did about them, which is fine.

In Chapter 27 of Violet Rain, snow begins to fall. This shocks Bruce out of a rage. When he comments that he's surprised that the snow is white, Peter asks, "what other colour would snow be?"

I found this absolutely hilarious when I wrote it, given that all of the rain in Arachne is a different colour so you would expect the snow to be too.

But I think the stakes are too high in the scene, and there's too many other things for the reader to care about for it to have worked. My beta and mom both thought it was a dorky joke / didn't get it at first, so I guess that one just didn't go my way. But it still makes me giggle, so I'm glad I kept it 😄

In An Omega's Intuition, I was very touched while writing the scene where Peter and Tony first see each other again. When Tony takes Peter's hand, states precisely how long it's been since they've last seen each other, and the world slows down and kind of goes 'tunnel vision' for Peter. I particularly adore the dialogue throughout the scene, from Tony and how the characters play and read off each other's words.

No one's ever had anything of note to say about this scene. Once again, I'm sure lots of people have liked it (or at least tolerated it) but I guess there are just other more important things going on in the fic, and that's okay 😅

#grace answers #anon #an omega's intuition #under a violet rain

[sakkiichi]

IT’S YOU, IT’S YOU, IT’S ALL FOR YOU.

“Let them have the world, I only want you.”

Kaedehara Kazuha, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Venti, Xiao x gn! reader.

cw/genre: romance, comfort, angst, fluff.

✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

Lightning opens the sky and the end of the world is starting.

Over Tenshukaku, bruised clouds gather, the ground rumbling to the ear-splitting sound of thunder.

Your breath comes in short, running by your lover’s side, a scene you know neither of you ever wants to relive, peeking from behind the darkened horizon.

Spears, bows and swords drawn, you rush to the scene by the resistance’s soldiers’ side.

Violent shades of violet ignite two silhouettes: one of them with their sword at the ready, the other with something floating at their side.

The Traveler is in danger.

Picking up pace, you reach the war zone, just to be met almost face to face with the slash of lightning.

Something you never wanted to encounter again, something you swore you’d never let him have to face anymore.

Electricity is reflected in your eyes when your gaze focuses on him. Your arms reaching out, to no avail, for the wandering samurai’s katana is clashing against the very same storm that burned him, in more ways than one.

Perhaps you were screaming, maybe you imagined his departed friend’s vision glowing anew, or it could be that the crackling of neon indigo around was just scorching your throat.

You don’t want to look, and yet your eyes stay glued to him, the wandering soul you’ve come to know perhaps deeper than you’ve ever known yourself.

A bright flash surrounds you and you just can’t bring yourself to watch.

In the middle of this thunder raining night, you don’t want to, you can’t bear to imagine the prospect of a world without your sun.

Salty droplets start sliding down your cheeks, your vision blurry when you finally, tentatively, crack your eyes open.

And for a moment, all air is knocked out of your lungs.

A dull colorless vision lays lifeless before you.

“No… no… no! No…” A croaked out choke leaves your throat, your legs giving out from under you.

And yet, you never hit the ground.

Familiar arms are wrapped around you, comforting, in the way only his were.

A heartbeat, loud and quick, melting into your stressed lungs, its thumping breaking the surface of your glacial deep sea when you gasp for air.

“Shhh dove, I’m here.” His head rests against yours, silky strands of hair you’ve combed and braided countless times tickling the side of your neck.

The samurai’s hold on you tightens; oxygen fills your lungs again.

“Kazuha…” You breathe, your voice a glass string, threatening to shatter with the slightest breeze.

“I’m here.” He repeats, tender lips delicately pecking your hair.

In his hold, you turn around, your knuckles white, gripping his clothes, as if he was going to disappear right between your fingers.

“Kazuha… please…” you rest your cheek against his chest, burying into him. “Don’t do that again!” Sobs, broken like the lightning pierced sky above escape you. “I don’t care if the whole world burns down, I only want you, safe and here, so please don’t…” you can’t form any more words, tears completely blinding you, ragged breaths lodged at the back of your throat.

“My hummingbird, I don’t know if I can promise you I won’t put myself in danger again,” Kazuha utters, with the softness of autumn leaves landing on your outstretched palms. His hands brush sweaty strands away from your face, the bandages you’ve wrapped and unwrapped until you knew his scars by heart, all too present when he touches your skin. “But I swear I’ll always return to you, safe.” He leaves a soft kiss on your temple, a lingering charm reminding you of his promise.

“Kazuha…” you cry again, squeezing him even tighter.

In the thunderstruck night, the poet known by the wind doesn’t let you go.

History didn’t repeat itself.

You won’t let it in the future either.

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

In the end, you’re thankful he didn’t become a god.

Looking at him now, with the last rays of summer sun carried by the breeze kissing his face, you believe Scaramouche is right were he was always meant to be: with someone by his side, not replaced, not discarded.

Not alone.

Pristine svelte hands, despite the biting gales he commands, pluck at a Sumeru rose by his side, its violet petals almost sparkling in the coppery glow of the early evening.

The wanderer’s brow furrows, a dispersing cloud flitting by in the dusk horizon. He twirls the flower around his fingers, akin to a kaleidoscope reflecting the feelings his eyes can’t fully conceal.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, bumping your shoulder with his softly.

Months back, that gesture alone would probably have earned you a cold hard stare and perhaps the breath knocked out of you.

But he’s… different now, you guess; or perhaps he is starting to become himself.

He sighs, starting to pluck at the petals of the rose still in his grasp.

“For a moment, I thought I finally had it all.” He leans back, the flower now resting beside him, as he looks up at the glowing sky. “For a brief instant, I thought, finally, no one else would betray me, that if I stood over everyone else, I’d… I don’t know, wouldn’t be discarded once again.” He chuckles, the sound humorless. “Turns out that couldn’t have been farther from the truth, huh?” He sighs again, pulling off some grass from the ground, letting it fly away into the sunset.

“Not necessarily.” You softly tell him, picking up the rose he was holding earlier. “You’re still here, and at least there’s a small part from your past you’ve been able to pull away from, hm?” You search for his gaze, your mind back to the days in which you exchanged blows and he was still known as ‘the Balladeer’. “And I’m still here, Nahida hasn’t completely deserted you either, and well, hasn’t the Traveler invited you into their Serenitea Pot more than once?” You offer him a sincere smile that merges into a chuckle when you observe his cheeks tinting in the same colors as the sun dipping behind the horizon. “Let whoever wants to command this world have it.” You utter, brushing away starlit strands from his face. “You’ll always be at the center of mine, Kuni.” You vow, as you tuck the Sumeru rose behind his ear.

Your partner scoffs, but it comes out like more of a chuckle, the carmine on his cheeks almost glowing as silver and gold mix in the sky for a few ephemeral instants.

In a moment in which is neither day or night, your gazes meet.

And he is certain the stars dancing in your stare are very much real.

‘The moon is beautiful,’ is the thought you share looking into each other’s eyes.

✧ VENTI

Midnight dyes Mondstadt in shades of cyan. By starlight, the city of freedom is not unlike a deep lake, the lit windows akin to lanterns shining at the bottom.

On the highest point of this city, a bard sits, his lyre, by his side; his songs, silent tonight.

He feels like he’s drowning.

He’s the god of this land, and yet, no wind seems to encompass his breaths.

By daylight, no one would be able to tell gales arise inside the carefree lyricist’s heart, but, at night, the shadows tended to light up things in their true colors.

A sigh leaves him, mere ripples in the stillness of the hour.

“Long day?”

A familiar voice, the one he has wished would join his in the verses he strums on his instrument.

He turns around, eyes of northern lights following your figure as you sit beside him.

Your feet dangle from the hands of the anemo archon’s statue, night air chilly against your skin. You give him a knowing look, inviting him to go on, to speak his mind if he needs to.

“I suppose you could say that.” Venti replies, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes plastered on his features. “But I’ll be fine!” His grin widens, a cracked mask held together by sheer willpower.

“Venti…” You scold him with no malice, leveling him with a pointed glance. “How many times have you said that knowing damn well it wouldn’t be true?”

He shrugs, looking down at the city below. A city he doesn’t think he can protect now.

He couldn’t save his friend, after all.

Who’s to say if the time calls for it, he’ll be able to save everyone, or you, for that matter?

“I know…” your partner mumbles, his voice devoid of his usual cheer. “It’s just…” the wind god looks up, as if asking the midnight zephyr, ‘where do I go from here?’ He mindlessly fiddles with the strings of his discarded lyre, right now, not certain he’ll ever pick it up again. “Wouldn’t this city… be better with someone else as its archon?”

“What makes you say that?” You ask, leaning your head on his shoulder, as you’ve done many times. The sound of his lyre used to accompany you in those. You miss it now. “I know I wouldn’t want anyone else but you, Venti.”

The anemo archon rests his head on top of yours, closing his eyes against the dark sky.

With you by his side, he almost feels like he’s flying.

“Are you sure?” He asks, barely above a whisper.

“More than I’ve ever been about anything, love.”

Venti hums, letting himself melt against your hold, at least for tonight. Perhaps he’s just too tired to discuss the topic further, maybe he just wants to believe this world still can be beautiful for him after all.

You wrap your arms around his waist.

The lake he was drowning in minutes ago stills.

The lyre is back in the god of anemo’s hands.

✧ XIAO

The yaksha is starting to think perhaps this was indeed not a good idea.

He feels miserable; he sports new wounds every night, both on his skin and his heart; he hasn’t felt your arms around his form in so long.

He thought if he pulled away, perhaps he could spend more time slaying monsters.

If there was no light at the end of the tunnel, then he could stay forever entangled in his eternal dance of life and death, right? Liyue would be protected.

You would be safe.

Except maybe that candle fluttering in the middle of the night was what gave the conqueror of demons some semblance of hope.

From the balcony of Wangshu Inn, the adeptus takes a deep breath, ready to leap to the other side of the darkened sky’s curtain.

Except, something, someone catches his wrist.

“Xiao.” The vigilant yaksha turns around, piercing gold meeting the steely resolve of your gaze. Your grip on his hand tightens. “Where are you going?” You ask him.

The demon conqueror stands at a standstill, balanced between the darkness of lost stars beyond, and the warmth of existing by your side.

The set of his jaw tightens. Why did you always make him feel this… softness inside his heart?

But no, he can’t stay. He needs to keep you safe, and if that means dipping in bloodshed, then so be it.

However, you beg to differ.

A ripple of ginko leaves, aureate against the marine backdrop of infinity flutters by.

By the time it stops, Xiao is standing in front of you, both your hands on his, the wisps of dark jade smoke and his polearm, discarded.

“Stay.” You plead, reaching out to brush silky dark teal strands away from his face. You let your fingers ghost over the dark shadows coating the underside of your adeptus’ stare, as if the demons he so intently fights were taking form in the the heaviness of his gaze.

He wants to say ‘no’, he wants to walk away.

He doesn’t think he has the right to taint you with his karma.

And yet, his patched up heart can’t help but nod along to anything you say.

So, for once, the yaksha sheds his mask, head hung low, shoulders sagging.

“Xiao,” you call, your hands cradling his face, guiding it to yours. “You deserve peace too.”

Your lover’s brows furrow, why were you always so tender and kind to him?

“But I need to protect-“

“My love, no legend is without chapters, you need rest and care as well.” You retort, your index running along the rosy curve of his lips.

The vigilante sighs, relieved or defeated, he could never tell.

“Let the world fend off for itself tonight, Xiao.” You softly breathe, a caress against his flared up skin. “Be with me, at least until dawn.”

Your arms wrap around him.

Standing in the light like this… it feels good.

Xiao leans his head on the crook of your neck.

And for once, he chooses warmth.

He wouldn’t enter the tunnel tonight.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x you #kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha x you #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #xiao x you #kunikuzushi x you #venti x you #kazuha x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x y/n #kunikuzushi x y/n #xiao x y/n #venti x y/n #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact fanfics #genshin x you

[1d1195]

Protection Extra III

Read the rest here: Protection

This is set pretty far in the future. It was one of the first things that popped into my head about their cute little lives. I will go back in time too but I’ve been dying to write this.

~3.3k words

No warnings; all fluff. Just like an abundance of fluff. Tooth rotting, sugary cuteness.

Harry’s whole world was on that bed. There was no way he could leave then. Bad story or not.

“Mumma!” The little shout was from down the hall. Almost immediately her eyes opened, the maternal instinct kicking in before the first syllable left her lips. Carefully, she pulled herself from under Harry’s arm.

Thunder was the culprit. She should have known but she was tired when Harry came to bed and didn’t even notice the loud storm. Frowning, she hurried the few rooms over to the bedroom, a pep in her step because she was a little worried it was something worse than fear of the storm. Opening the bedroom door, she sighed, leaning against the doorframe and putting all her weight on her good leg—because even though it had been over half a decade since the injury, it still ached in the rain. “Hey Miss Petal,” she whispered softly. “S’matter, Violet?” She crept across the room feeling worse by the moment as she adjusted to the darkness—only half-lit by a flower shaped nightlight plugged in along the back wall. How could she have slept through the storm that made the five-year-old so sad?

The little one was frowning too. Not quite crying, but she was definitely watery-eyed. “M’scared,” she pouted.

“Of what, my love?” She asked scooping her into her arms and tucking her little face into the crook of her neck. She was warm and a little sweaty from being so scared. She gently cupped the back of her head, smoothing down her soft brown curls that she got from her father. Her lips brushed along Violet's hairline comfortingly.

“The thunder, it’s loud,” she explained. Her little pout was all Harry. It seemed sinful for someone as pretty as her to frown. She felt the same way when Harry frowned too.

“I’m sorry, Vi,” she hummed and started down the hall back for the other bedroom. Of course, with an achy leg and a child on her hip, she limped back a little more than she did on the way to her room. “It’s okay though. The storm can’t hurt you,” she reminded her. “Daddy and I would never let anything hurt you,” she promised. She would first use herself as a shield, then Harry if necessary. But she was certain if anything came close to danger of harming their daughter, Harry wouldn’t let it near either of them.

“S’wrong, loves?” Harry mumbled sleepily rubbing his eye hearing them enter the bedroom again.

“We’re just a little rattled by thunder,” she explained, her knee touching the bed frame indicating she made it back to her oasis, ready to snuggle with Harry. She slipped back into bed and placed the pretty little girl between them in the middle of the mattress.

Immediately, Harry reached out for his daughter. She was warm, adorable, and a little shaky with anxiety from the storm. She was a carbon copy of the love of his life just one little body away from him. Already brilliant—a little inquisitive genius, obsessed with plants and flowers. A scientist in the making with the kindest heart Harry had ever seen for a five-year-old. “Aw, petal,” Harry kissed her temple and pulled her closer. The thunder very nearly shook the house making her stiffen in his arms. “S’nothing, Violet,” he promised.

Without the nightlight, she had to reach out and feel for Violet's little face. Her finger traced the shape of her eyebrows, brushed her soft, tear-damp lashes, and felt her pouting little lip on her daughter’s face. “It’s loud,” she whispered to Harry. He nodded understandingly against her little frame and pulled her closer to him, snuggling so she pressed up against his torso. With one arm beneath his pillow, it stretched across the bed and grasped for his wife’s hand. “Miss Wildflower,” Harry said softly. “D’you think Miss Petal needs t’hear a story?” He asked.

She twined her fingers loosely with Harry’s beneath the pillow facing the two loves of her life. She smiled into the darkness as the thunder thrummed around them. She inched forward on the mattress and draped her other arm across their bodies. The cocoon of the warm bed and Harry’s protective body was already making the little one very sleepy.

She glanced at the clock. It was a little after midnight. Still plenty of time to sleep. “What do you think, Miss Petal?” She asked.

Harry felt her nod against his chest. “Mumma’s boo-boo,” she said softly.

It was one of Harry’s least favorite stories. He hadn't heard her tell it once since Violet was born. “Not that one, Vi,” he nearly groaned.

“I’ll tell it,” she offered immediately.

“Kitten, honey,” he warned quietly.

“Shh, it’s late. Let me tell it so we can go to sleep.”

“Daddy doesn’t like that story, Mumma,” Violet explained a knowing tone in her voice.

“Is that so?” She asked, wishing she could see Harry’s facial expression. Having seen it a thousand times over, she knew it was that deep set frown that made her stomach hurt with the need to fix it. It was the same one he had when they visited Anne and Gemma for their first Christmas; agonized over a bad dream from one of the first nights they spent together in his childhood bedroom.

“He doesn’t know it,” Violet explained.

“Really?” She whispered in surprise a smirk toying at the corners of her mouth. It was dark, but Harry didn’t need to see her to know there was a smirk on her face. That same knowing one she wore on her lips the day he met her.

Oh, I get it. She had said to him leaning against the door frame of her flowery apartment. Send someone young so I relate to them. Someone that will understand my attitude.

“Maybe we should jus’ go t’sleep, Miss Petal,” Harry warned the little one with the same tone as he used with her mum.

“Not without a story, Daddy,” Violet pleaded. “Mumma will tell it, I always ask her to tell it since you don’t like it.”

Harry sighed, too tired to argue. “Alright.”

Violet rotated so her back was pressed to Harry’s body, caged beneath the arm that previously held his wife in place before the little one woke her. Harry wished he had heard her shout. When Violet came to bed with Harry, they didn’t team up against him and trick him into telling the bad story. Normally Harry left the room. But it was after midnight, and they were snuggled beneath a warm blanket. When he picked her up from her room and brought her back to sleep, Miss Wildflower usually remained asleep—even when Violet insisted on kissing Mumma on the cheek before cuddling into Harry and drifting off to dreamland.

Harry’s whole world was on that bed. There was no way he could leave then. Bad story or not.

She squeezed Harry’s hand reassuringly. “This is the abridged version, Vi. No tricks,” she whispered knowingly to her.

“What’s a bridge? Is there a new part?” She asked, excitement in her voice. With each retelling a new little detail was added—it was usually miniscule. Violet was still young. Truthfully, as much as she had joked about telling their future kids about it when it happened, she wasn’t sure she would ever want Violet to know Harry put a bullet in her—even if it was to protect her.

Many of the new details involved solidifying the clues she left behind for Harry to find and how he figured it out. Like a scavenger hunt. Violet had said when she heard about it. She loved to tell the story. Reliving the joy in Harry’s fearlessness even if he hated the story. She thought he was exceedingly brave, even if he didn’t feel that way. To her it showcased all the courageous and strong attributes Harry had and all the things he would always do to protect their little family.

The thunder cracked causing a little yelp to escape her throat. She snuggled further into her Dad’s body. Harry chuckled. “Means shorter story, petal,” he whispered kissing the back of her soft, wispy hair.

“Okay, Mumma,” she said softly with a frown in her voice.

“Once upon a time,” she began. “I was being babysat by a group of really awful people who didn’t like me.”

Harry snorted. “S’this how y’always start it?”

“Shh, Daddy,” Violet chided. “Except Uncle Niall and Daddy,” she completed the opening.

“Right, except Uncle Niall and Daddy," a brief pause. "I was really grumpy," she whispered to the little one. "They wouldn't let me do what I wanted to do."

"Because of the yucky protocols," he could feel Violet nod against him as if she was there whenever she said she hated protocol.

“Kitten, s'not fair,” Harry muttered in warning. The girls ignored him.

“After Daddy had been babysitting me for months and getting me out of trouble way more times than he ever thought he’d have to handle...we fell in love,” she leaned in and peppered Violet's face with little kisses. The little one giggled while Harry felt a flood of warmth take over his body. Harry liked that part. He smirked, remembering all the havoc and chaos that ensued during the first few months of his new job. Falling in love with her was the easiest thing in the world. “But then..." Harry felt nothing but dread replace the warmth he had previously felt. All the reasons he knew he hated this story were coming. "I overheard a conversation from someone that really didn’t like me,” her voice barely reached his ears she spoke so softly. “I had to tell Daddy to leave me alone so he wouldn’t get hurt.” Harry felt the same pang of hurt and anguish that pierced him the day Niall told him all about the letter she had sent. The one that led to the longest week of his life. That week included beating out the second longest week of his life when Miss Violet had the flu and he wanted nothing more than to rip the illness out of her body and put it in his own. “Daddy didn’t like that,” she whispered knowingly into the darkness. Harry was silent.

“Mumma said you cried, Daddy,” Violet's soft tone was hushed quietly.

“That was a secret, petal,” she reminded her back in another whisper.

“Oops,” she giggled.

Harry rolled his eyes ignoring the little exchange.

Even if it was adorable.

Plus, he did cry.

“The bad guys took me to a place to keep me hidden from Daddy. But Daddy is a really good detective, and he would never ever let me leave him for that long,” her voice was so solid. Even as a whisper. Harry felt his throat close around a lump of emotion. If he wanted to protest the story—which now he didn’t—he wouldn’t have been able to. “So Daddy found me,” she continued. “It was a really scary moment. But I knew Daddy would keep me safe. Do you remember how I knew?”

“Daddy wouldn’t let anything hurt you..." Violet responded immediately. It was practiced. Like a mantra. "He won't let anything hurt me either,” Violet nodded firmly. She already knew this part too. Harry twisted the diamond wedding ring on her left finger below the pillow and tried to push the emotion down, desperately trying to remember that this was the bad story. The one he hated to think about.

But he hadn’t heard her tell the story before.

She made it beautiful. Something so awful and something that broke his heart just to think about—she made it bloom into something wonderful.

It was very typical for his Miss Wildflower.

“I got a really bad boo-boo,” she reminded Violet. Harry squeezed her hand and tried not to think too much about it....even though every once in a while, (typically around the anniversary that he was sure he was the only one between the two of them who remembered), Harry still had nightmares of her losing all that blood in a puddle that made him feel nauseous and broken as if it was the day before.

“But, Daddy fixed it,” Violet sounded like she was telling a secret.

“He always does,” she answered.

Harry really thought he would cry now.

“That’s why Mumma has an owie on her leg, Daddy,” Violet whispered.

“Mmm,” as if Harry could forget. She squeezed his hand and smiled in the dark.

“It doesn’t hurt though,” she promised Violet—but Harry knew she was speaking to him and not their daughter.

“Except when it rains,” Harry mumbled bitterly.

“Daddy saved my life,” she ignored her husband's cranky tone. “Every single time I needed him,” the reminder wasn't for Violet, but for Harry. “So thunder?” she shook her head with nonchalant shrug that neither could see. “That’s nothing. Daddy would and could take on a whole storm for you.”

Harry squeezed her hand unable to form adequate words that he loved her so much for making the story sound like he was the hero when he still, very much did not feel like one.

“Finish the story, Mumma,” Violet yawned almost asleep.

“Daddy and I went to Grandma’s and Auntie Gem played with us. We celebrated Christmas and ate lots of yummy cookies. When I got all better we came home and lived happily ever after. Then baby Violet came along and made our lives even better. Now we tell stories together in the dark to keep the thunder away,” her voice got quieter and softer until Violet didn’t respond, her little breath coming out in soft little pants. “I love you, Harry Styles,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” Harry croaked.

She gave his hand a squeeze before drifting back to sleep.

*

It hadn’t rained in a week and while it was still fairly cold out, there wasn’t any rain in the forecast either. Yet she had been limping for over a week. It was nearly the holiday season, which, as lovely as it was, it was also the dreaded anniversary. It had Harry wondering if this was some brand of punishment he could never fully atone for.

Harry had left The Wildflower in the capable hands of his employees making Christmas flower arrangements for dinner parties and gifts in the form of lovely bouquets. She left her green pen and the stack of Bio-Chem exams on the kitchen table to take a break and spend time with Harry and Violet.

Christmas shopping; the goal was to find something for Grandma, Auntie Gem, and Uncle Niall. But someone kept finding presents that she wanted to ask Santa for...in a second list. Naturally, Santa had a hard time denying the little love of anything she wanted. She was certain Harry had already ordered everything on his phone as she pointed to items in windows and in shops.

Santa loved to spoil Miss Petal.

Harry and Violet were ahead of her on the sidewalk while she limped along. “Mumma,” Violet giggled. “You’re taking too long.”

“S’not very nice, petal,” Harry frowned. “Mumma’s leg hurts.”

“I’m okay,” she promised with a smile catching up. “Just moving slow.”

Harry looked her up and down admiring how beautiful and lovely she was, which made her skin warm every inch of her body. She was sure she flushed a dark red on her cheeks which Harry smirked despite the fact he was disappointed in himself for being the reason she was so hurt. “Is it your new tattoo, Mumma?”

Harry stopped in his tracks turning to the woman that not even his young self could have dreamed of if he had met her when they were young. “Mumma doesn’t have tattoos,” Harry murmured looking right at her as he spoke to Violet.

She smiled. “I was waiting till it healed, love bug, remember?”

Violet giggled. “Oops,” she smiled.

Rolling her eyes, she shrugged at Harry. “I’ll show you when we get home.”

It took every bit of self-control to remind himself that he wasn’t in his twenties. He was a parent with a five-year-old in front of him and he couldn't scoop her up off the sidewalk as he had done so many times on the very road and hurry back to the car to get her home and under her skirt.

*

Their imaginative little girl liked to play and didn’t mind playing alone. She would draw, color, and even read the same story books she had been practicing reading with Mumma and Daddy.

Which was particularly great right then. It allowed Harry to slide his wife’s long skirt up over her hips and examine the plastic wrapping around the circumference of her thigh. Harry felt emotion choke his vocal cords. He pressed his lips together and sniffed awkwardly. “S’that y’got there, kitten?” He asked.

“A garden,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hmm?” His fingers pressed gently around the plastic to get a better angle. He was accustomed to tattoos, knew how to take care of them and mind them so as not to irritate the fresh ones. “Miss Wildflower’s got a garden?” He asked, heart skipping beats as he scanned the array of little stick flowers lining her thigh. There were a dozen or so little flowers. But three prominent ones in the foreground. Most importantly, one flower from where the bullet had left a scar. Petals surrounding the circular mark.

“Remember when we helped Vi draw a flower garden?” She asked.

Harry nodded even though he had drawn so many pictures with Violet, he wasn’t sure he could pinpoint it exactly. Harry couldn’t move his gaze from her thigh. “Is that...my flower?” He whispered.

She smiled; a light, airy laugh fell from her beautiful lips. “Of course, it is, baby,” she whispered back.

He clenched his jaw trying to keep his emotions from bubbling over. He pressed his fingers lightly over the plastic, brushing softly on the scar that broke his heart each time he looked at it. Harry could hear Violet singing to herself—a song she made up about her dolls. His life was perfect. He had the most lovely daughter.

Perhaps he was the first man in history to have the perfect wife. Gorgeous, intelligent, a wonderful mother, the kindest soul, and the feistiest banter when needed. When he still felt crummy about hurting her, she made it better. Every single time. “I don’t know how m'supposed t'keep loving y’more and more, but y’always manage,” he murmured clearing his throat and cupping her face in his hands.

She smiled up at him, bringing her face closer to his brushing her nose against his. “This really handsome guy on my security detail way back when told me once that wildflowers grow and light up the side of the road even if it’s not a pretty road..." she started. "I didn't know you always left when I told that story," she whispered. "You can't possibly still feel guilty about it, baby. I've..." she shook her head. "You saved my life."

"I almost killed you—it would have killed me."

She smirked. "I have never thought this scar was ugly. But I know you hate it. So I hope you think the wildflowers brighten it for you. It glued us together. Brought us our little petal," she smiled listening to Violet's a verse begin louder than the first few about her new doll—a welcome to her toy box.

Harry felt his heart ache like something he hadn’t ever felt before. “I love you, Miss Wildflower.”

“I love you,” she giggled and leaned in to kiss him way deeper than she should have with an alert five-year-old in the room over.

But she couldn’t help it. With the love of her life attached to her lips there she couldn't bring herself to care at all.

--

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[waitimcomingtoo]

The Great War

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peters double life causes serious strain on your relationship

Masterlist

Peters's knuckles were bruised like violets when walked into campus one chilly Monday morning. He flexed his aching hands a few times before hiding them in his pockets so no one could see them. He sat beside you in his morning lecture class and cupped your face to kiss you hello, momentarily forgetting about his bruised knuckles.

“Oh my God. What happened to you?” You gasped and took Peters hand.

“Huh? Oh that? I, uh, I fell.” Peter quickly lied and withdrew his hand.

“You fell? On your knuckles?” You laughed in confusion. Peter began to panic when he saw the skeptical look on your face.

“Yeah. It’s this technique I learned online. Instead of using your hands it break your fall, you use your knuckles. Its better for your wrists since they won’t feel the impact. It’s called the Donkey Kong.“ Peter exclaimed as his eyes darted to the side. You gave him a strange look before taking his hand to look at his knuckles again.

“I don’t know, Petey. These are really bruised. It looks like you punched someone. Like, a bunch of times. Just a rain of punches. Over and over. Like this.” You said as you punched the air back and forth as if you were fighting someone. Peter felt his face get hot as you described exactly how he had gotten those bruises.

“What? What situation would I be in that I would be doing something like that? That’s crazy? What a silly girl you are. A real silly Billy.” Peter laughed nervously as he tried to deflect you. It backfired as his odd behavior only made you more suspicious.

“You okay?”

“I’m great. I gotta go study for my gym test. Love you. Bye.” Peter quickly kissed you before running away. As much as he hated lying to you, he knew he had to do it to conceal his double life. But lately, it was getting harder and harder to keep you in the dark about his Spiderman duties. You were growing more and more suspicious of his behavior, all while Peter was feeling more and more guilty about lying to you.

You were in Peters bedroom a few days later with open textbooks and notes all around you. You were supposed to be studying for an upcoming exam together but Peter could barely focus on anything but the fuzzy little shorts you had on. He knew you were freezing but wanted to wear them anyway because you thought the snowflake pattern was cute, and that made it all the more adorable to him.

“Why is it so cold in here?” You asked and rubbed your hands together.

“Oh, thanks for asking. It’s because my landlord hates us.” Peter said with a cheery smile. You laughed at him before getting off his bed to go to his closet.

“Is it okay if I grab a sweatshirt?” You looked over your shoulder at him as you opened his closet doors. Peter saw his Spiderman suit hanging right in the middle of his closet and felt the color drain from his face.

“Don’t in there!” He exclaimed as he spun you around and shut the closet doors behind him. You gave him a strange look and Peter immediately regretted his reaction.

“Sorry. It’s just really messy in there and I don’t want you to see it.” Peter lied.

“Oh. Okay.” You nodded but didn’t sound like you believed him. Peter grabbed a hoodie off the back of his desk chair and weakly held it out to you.

“Here. And if you’re still cold, we could get under the covers.” Peter said with a cheeky smile.

“I like the sound of that.” You smiled in return before leaning in to kiss him. Peter slipped an arm around your waist and easily lifted you off the ground. He brought you over to his bed and laid you down on it without ever breaking the kiss. You made out on his bed for a little while until something out the window caught your eye.

“Oh no. it snowing?” You asked and sat up a little. Peter pulled his curtain back and saw the flurry of snowflakes being lit up my the streetlights.

“Oh yeah. It is.”

“Ugh. Now I have to walk home in the snow.” You groaned and flopped back down onto his pillow.

“No way. I can’t let you do that. I’ll steal Mays car keys and drive you home.” Peter offered and he laid down on top of you and rested his chin on your chest. You started to play with his curls until an idea came into your mind.

“Or I could just sleep over.” You timidly suggested. Peters heart began to beat in his chest as he picked his head up to see if you were serious.

“Really? You want to?” He asked hopefully.

“Yeah. I want to.” You nodded before pulling him back down into a kiss. You started to make out again, tugging off articles of each others clothes every now and then. Peter slipped his finger through yours and squeezed your hand as he deepened the kiss. He knew that you sleeping over for the first time meant it would be the first time for something else too and he couldn’t contain his excitement. He smiled against your lips but was suddenly disturbed by his police radio going off. Peter jumped off of you and threw a pillow at it before you could hear the crime it had picked up on.

“What was that?” You wondered.

“It’s my birth control alarm. I’ll be right back.” Peter quickly got off of you, grabbed his police radio, and bolted to the bathroom. Once he was inside, he sat on the toilet and turned the volume down so that he could hear what was going on.

“We need all units, I repeat we need all units on the corner of 22nd and 13th Ave. We have reports of an ongoing bank robbery. Possible hostages inside.” Peter heard over the radio. He hung his head in defeat before getting up to look in the mirror.

“Okay Parker. You could lose your virginity tonight or you could go save New York. Which is it?” He asked his reflection. He stared at himself for a long time but couldn’t decide.

“Why should I have to go? The police probably have it covered. Besides, I have a beautiful girl in my bed right now who is expecting mediocre sex right now that only I can deliver.” He reminded himself. As much as he wanted to believe that, he couldn’t help but feel guilty about not going to stop the robbery.

“I’m a good little boy. I get good grades. I’m nice to old people. I respect women. And I protect New York every single day. I can take one night off. I deserve to get laid tonight.” He decided. He slapped his cheeks a few times to psyche himself up and was about to leave the bathroom when he thought of the night Ben died. It had happened because of a robbery and tonight, Peter had the opportunity to stop anyone else from losing an uncle the way he did. He looked at himself in the mirror again and sighed.

“Not tonight, kid. The only way you’re getting laid is if you crawl up a chickens ass and wait.” He made his final decision before leaving the bathroom. You were sitting up on his bed in your bra and sweatpants with hair still messy from Peters hands. It took everything in Peters power not to jump right back into the bed with you and ignore the radio, but he knew he’d never be able to live with himself if he did.

“Is everything okay?” You asked when you noticed his face.

“I’m sorry, lover. I don’t think you should sleep over tonight.” He said as he looked at the ground in shame.

“Oh. You don’t want me to?” You asked and Peter could hear the disappointment in your voice. He watched you sheepishly reach for your discarded shirt and pull it over your head, making him feel even worse.

“Of course I do. Trust me, it’s not you. It’s me. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He said as his eyes flickered over to his closet. If he pulled his suit out and told you he had to go stop a bank robbery, you would understand why he was kicking you out.

“I…I’m…” He continued to look at his closet as he struggled to get the words out. He sighed in defeat after a minute and looked at the ground.

“I’m a bed wetter.” He lied, immediately squeezing his eyes shut in regret.

“Oh. Really?” You asked in concern as you got off his bed.

“Yeah. It’s chronic. I have to sleep on plastic sheets and everything. And I just don’t want to risk you getting peed on.” He continued to lie, feeling worse about it with every word he said.

“Have you seen a doctor about it? Is it an anxiety thing?”

“Yeah. It’s been happening the last couple of years.”

“You mean since Ben passed?” You said sympathetically and put your hands on Peters shoulders to comfort him. He could barely believe that you not only believed his lie, but were helping it sound more believable.

“Yeah. The doctor said that’s the most likely cause.” He nodded his head without looking at you.

“Oh, honey.” You said quietly as you pulled him into a hug. Peter felt horrible for accepting your comfort after lying to you. He expected you to laugh at him, but you were nothing but understanding and somehow that made lying feel so much worse.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” You said once you pulled out of the hug.

“You have no idea.” Peter mumbled and felt a knot in his stomach.

“I should probably get going before the snow gets worse.” You said with a sad smile. Peter sighed and wanted nothing more than to tell you to stay.

“Yeah. I could walk you?”

“That’s okay. I’ll be fine.” You gave him a tight smile as you put on your jacket. He could tell you were disappointed that you hadn’t gone all the way tonight and he felt just as upset about it. It was times like these that he resented the night he was bitten and wished he could just be a normal person.

“Okay, love. Get home safe.”

“I always do.” You said before kissing him goodbye.

Peter sighed and stressfully tugged at his hair once you were gone. He could feel the strain he was putting on your relationship and worried how much more of this you could take. Even though he was going through something and needed to think things through, he put on his Spiderman suit and swung out to the crime scene.

Peter was relived when you invited him over the next night to hang out at your apartment. You told him your mom was off at some company holiday party so you would have the apartment to yourselves for the evening. You put on a festive movie and watched the first 15 minutes before climbing into Peters lap to kiss him. You made out on your couch until your phone buzzed on the couch, interrupting the moment.

“Hang on. It’s my mom.” You said as you read the text.

“How’s her office party going?” Peter asked as he drummed his fingers on your waist.

“Good. But she said there’s no cabs so she’s gonna sleep over a friends house tonight. She won’t be back until dinner time tomorrow.”

“Really? So you have the place to yourself tonight?”

“No. We have the place to ourselves.” You smiled as you dropped your phone on the couch.

“Well. What should we do?” Peter played dumb as he slipped a hand behind your head to pull you closer.

“I have no idea.” You replied before closing the gap between you and kissing him again. Your make out session resumed and Peter was room gripping the seat of the couch as you trailed kisses down his neck.

“Stay the night.” You said between kisses. Peter found himself nodding before he realized what he was doing. He pulled away from the kiss and let out a deep sigh, knowing he had to disappoint you again.

“I can’t. I’m a bed wetter, remember?” He said and sat back on the couch.

“It’s okay. Just don’t drink anything else tonight and pee before you go to sleep.” You said as you climbed back into his lap and started to trail kisses down his neck. Peter clenched his fist as you made it harder and harder to leave you.

“I’ve tried that. I’ll still pee.”

“I’ll take the chance.” You said and pulled him into another kiss. Peter could feel himself getting sucked in and knew he had to stop before he ended up staying the night. He pulled away to tell you he had to go, but you spoke before he got a chance to.

“I just want to know what it’s like to fall asleep in your arms and wake up next to you. Don’t you want that?” You whispered against his lips.

“More than anything.”

“Good. Plus if you stay, we could…” You trailed off and leaned down to kiss him again. Peter kissed you back and temporarily forgot all about his responsibilities as Spiderman. He was somehow presented with another opportunity to go all the way with you and knew he couldn’t disappoint you like he did last time.

“Please stay.” You whispered against his mouth. Peter looked at you and was nearly about to give in, but knew he couldn’t live with himself if he stayed the night and something ended up happening that he wasn’t there to stop.

“I want to stay. You have no idea how much I want to stay. But I just can’t.” He told you. You nodded your head in disappointment and slid off his lap to sit beside him on the couch. There was an awkward silence between the two of you as neither knew what to do now. Finally, Peter turned his head so that he could look at you.

“I know I can’t stay the night, but we could still…” He trailed off and gave you a knowing look.

“I’m really tired actually. I think I’m gonna go to sleep.” You said and got off the couch. Peter sighed and hung his head in defeat, knowing he had once again blown it with you. He stood up and pulled you into a hug, trying to silently convey an apology.

“I would stay if I could.”

“Yeah, I know.” You replied, but he knew you weren’t convinced.

“Goodnight. I love you.” He said weakly as you trudged towards your bedroom.

“Love you too.” You replied and shut your door behind you. The absence of the “I” was not lost on Peter as he got up to leave. He gave your door one last look before going out into the cold.

When Peter saw you on campus the next day, he went up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He rested his head on your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your neck, feeling you relax in his arms.

“I’m sorry about last night.” He mumbled in your ear.

“No, Peter, I’m sorry. I was upset that you left but I wasn’t even thinking about how you felt. I’m sure it’s hard for you to sleep outside of your own bed with your condition and I definitely didn’t make it any easier. And I’m also sorry if you felt pressured to, you know…”You said with an embarrassed smile.

“I didn’t feel pressured. I really wanted to. I swear, I did.” He assured you.

“Really?” You asked for reassurance.

“Are you kidding me? It’s literally all I think about.” Peter told you, making you crack a smile. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his heartbeat to thank him for the reassurance.

“I was starting to feel like you didn’t want me like that.” You admitted, making Peters stomach drop. He knew his lies were affecting your relationship but he hadn’t realized they effected your self esteem too.

“I do. I want you so badly every waking hour of the day. I’m just nervous, okay? You’re my first girlfriend and I don’t want to mess this up. It’s way too important to me.”

“I understand that. I don’t want to mess this up either. And maybe we could try again today. My mom is still at her friends house.”

“You want to try again?” He asked hopefully. “During the daytime?”

“Yeah. I’ve heard it’s possible.” You chuckled and pulled out of the hug.

“Okay. Yeah. That would be amazing. Let’s do that.” Peter nodded eagerly, in disbelief that he was getting so many chances with you.

“Perfect.” You smiled. “I know you’re done with class for the day so I’ll text you after my last one and then you can come over.”

“Can’t wait.” Peter grinned and leaned down to kiss you.

While Peter waited for you to get out of class, he invited Ned over to calm his nerves. He was looking in the mirror and perfecting his hair while Ned sat on his bed.

“So you guys are actually gonna do it? You’re gonna lose your virginity?” Ned asked as he fumbled with a rubix cube from Peters desk.

“Yeah. Todays the today.” Peter sighed happily. “It almost happened a few times but I kept having to leave to take care of a crime.”

“Wow. Do you know what you’re doing?”

“No. Not at all. But I think I should be able to figure it out pretty quickly.” Peter said, sounding unconvinced.

“Yeah. It shouldn’t be too hard. You just put the magic wand into the wizard sleeve and-“

“Oh my God.” Peter cut him off. “Please don’t refer to my girlfriend as a wizard sleeve.”

“Why not?” Ned genuinely wondered. Peter was not longer listening as he had pulled out his phone to text you that he’d be over soon. Before he got the chance, he got a news alert that threw a wrench in his plans.

“Fuck.” Peter groaned once he read the headline.

“What’s wrong?”

“There was a ten car pile up on 33rd street. It says multiple people are trapped in their cars.”

“Oh shit. Dude, you gotta get down there.”

“I know. But what am I gonna tell Y/n?” Peter sighed as his thumbs danced over the keyboard.

“Just tell her you’re sick.” Ned shrugged.

“I always give her that excuse. How many times is she gonna believe I randomly fell ill before a date?” Peter genuinely wondered.

“I know you want to see her. But this matters more. She’s understand if she knew what you were doing.” Ned reminded him.

“I know. But she doesn’t know what I’m doing. And it’s really straining our relationship. I don’t know how many more last minute cancellations she’s gonna put up with.” Peter nervously admitted as he typed out an excuse to you.

“I’m so sorry baby! can we please reschedule our plans? my stummy hurt😔” He texted you and anxiously waited for a response. He felt horrible lying but had no other choice at this point.

“oh no honey :( did you eat the whole box of wheat thins again??? I know you love them but eating the whole box only hurts us both” You texted back. Peter was initially relived that you weren’t mad but then felt his guilt worsen over the fact that you were so understanding when he was lying to you.

“I know I should’ve listened to you 💀 I have really bad wheat thin cramps right now 😵‍💫🤢🧥😩” He texted you again, burying himself further in the lie.

“poor baby :( I can come over and take care of you”

Peter read your text and groaned in frustration, knowing this meant he had to lie even more.

“It’s really bad 💀 you shouldn’t see me like this. you’ll never find me attractive again”

“ok baby <3 text me if you need anything. and feel better. I love you !!” You texted him back. Peter chewed his bottom lip as his guilt chewed him back. He reluctantly tossed his phone onto his bed and looked at Ned.

“Did you have plans tonight? I think I’m gonna need my guy in the chair.” Peter said as he pulled his Spiderman suit out of his closet. Ned’s eyes lit up as he proudly stood up from Peters bed.

“Let’s go eat some ass.” Ned said with determination.

“Wait what? Whose ass are we eating? And why?”

“Sorry. I wanted to say a cool one liner before we went. I meant to say let’s go kick some ass.” Ned corrected himself.

“Who’s ass are we kicking? We’re helping car crash victims. Why would we kick them?” Peter reminded him as he pressed the center of his suit to tighten it.

“Can we just go?” Ned sighed in defeat.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

The next day, you trudged into your morning class and plopped into the seat next to Ned.

“Good morning.” Ned greeted you.

“Is it?” You grumbled and dropped your bag on the ground.

“Damn. What’s got you in such a mood?”

“My mom didn’t want me driving after that huge pile up last night so she made me walk to campus. My legs feel like they’re gonna fall off.” You groaned and rested your head on your desk.

“She honestly did you a favor. You know it was caused by this huge patch of ice? The paramedics kept sliding on it when they tried to help people out of their cars.”

“How do you know that?” You asked as you picked your head up off the desk.

“Peter and I saw it.” Ned told you. “It was pretty bad.”

“You and Peter were there? Last night?” You asked as your stomach dropped.

“Yeah. Peter asked me to come with him to….” Ned trailed off when he saw the look on your face. Before Ned could ask what was wrong, Peter took a seat beside you. You had a sense you’d been betrayed as you slowly turned to look at Peter.

“Hey guys. What’s up?” Peter asked and leaned in to kiss you.

“You said your stummy hurt.” You said and pushed him away.

“What?” Peter laughed in confusion.

“Oh shit.” Ned covered his hand with his mouth when he realized what he had done.

“You lied to me?” You whispered in disbelief as you got out of your seat. You didn’t wait for Peter to respond and ran out of the classroom.

“Wait. I can explain.” Peter said as he ran after you. You ran down the hallway but Peter was faster than you.

“Lover, wait, please.” Peter pleaded as he caught up to you.

“Are you cheating on me?” You blurted as you wiped around to face Peter.

“What? Cheating on you?” Peter laughed in surprise.

“You’re laughing at me?” You asked as tears slid down your face.

“No, no, I’m not honey I swear. It’s just, do you really think it’s possible that I could get two girls to like me at the same time? Getting you to like me was a total miracle.” Peter chuckled as he rested his hands on your shoulders.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny.” You snapped and pushed his hands off of you.

“I don’t. I swear.” Peter dropped his smile. “I just don’t understand why you’d ever think I was cheating on you.”

“Maybe because you’re lying to me about where you are. You said you were sick last night but Ned said you were with him. And I know that’s not the first time you’ve lied about being sick to get out of a date. I know you do it all the time. You think I haven’t realized it but I do.”

“Oh.” Peter said quietly, unsure of what else to say.

“God Peter, why do I feel like I’m crazy lately? Why do I feel like I have to chase you down just to talk to you?” You asked and wiped the tears that kept falling.

“What are you talking about? I’m right here.” Peter assured you and tried to touch you again but you just stepped back.

“You’re here for now. But you are constantly running off to do God knows what and leaving me behind. I don’t want to have to beg to be a footnote in your life anymore, Peter. You either need to tell me what’s going on or we are over.”

“Nothings going on.” Peter said weakly, knowing you’d never believe it. He could feel himself losing you but felt helpless to stop it. You’d never threatened to break up before and he could only hope you were bluffing.

“Nothings going on? Nothings going on?” You raised your voice and grabbed his sleeve. Peter watched as you pushed it up to reveal a bruise in the shape of a hand print going around his wrist, the mark of where he had he grabbed a few nights ago.

“Then why do you come into school with bruises and injuries every single day? Where do you go? Who does this to you?“

“Nobody.” Peter lied and pushed his sleeve down.

“Nobody?” You folded your arms and gave him a look.

“Nobody.” He repeated but couldn’t look you in the eyes. You let out a disappointed sigh and nodded your head since you expected his answer to be another lie.

“Do you not want me around?” You asked him, making him do a double take.

“What? How could you even ask me that?” Peter wondered. He felt sick to his stomach knowing that he had made you feel like that.

“Because I feel you want to break up with me but don’t know how to do it. And that’s why you lie and make up excuses. So that you don’t have to me around me.”

“That’s not true. I love being around you. I would be with you every second of the day if I could. But I can’t. You have to believe me that I just can’t.” Peter pleaded with you as he began to cry as well.

“Why should I believe you when you have done nothing but lie to me?”

“I honestly don’t know. But please do it anyway.”

“I don’t want to break up with you, Peter. I really don’t. I just want answers. Please.” You said and dropped your defensive body language. As hurt as you were, you still loved him and wanted to believe that he really did have a reason as to why he did the things he did. You took a step towards him and let him reach out and touch you this time.

“Answers to what? Ask me. I’ll answer as many as I can.” He promised a she squeezed your hand.

“Okay. For starters, why are you always canceling plans on me last minute? Or leaving school, dates, or hangouts at a moments notice but never explaining why? And are you so secretive about your phone and the things in your closet?“

“I…don’t.. I can’t answer those.” Peter blinked in surprised when he realized he couldn’t answer a single question without revealing his secret.

“Of course you can’t. We’re done.” You held up your hands in defeat and started it walk away again.

“Wait! Baby, please.” Peter begged and pulled you back.

“Do you even wet the bed?” You asked him, stunning him to silence.

“No. I lied about that.” He admitted.

“Like how you lied about being sick last night?” You sniffled.

“Yes. I lied about that too.”

“What else have you lied about?”

“I…can’t tell you. I’m sorry. I want to - I really fucking want to -but I can’t.”

“Then we’re over.” You laughed sadly and stepped back from him.

“No. Please. We can’t be over.” Peter cried and tried to reach for you but you withdrew.

“How are we supposed to be together if you can’t be honest with me?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple. This is the last time I’m asking you, Peter. Tell me the truth.”

“I…” Peter opened his mouth but quickly trailed off. Your eyes filled with hope for a split second as you thought he was actually going to be honest with you. But when his mouth shut, all your hope faded away. You shook your head in disappointment before walking away from him.

That night, you ignored the dozens of calls and texts from Peter and eventually blocked his number. When he saw that his texts were no longer being delivered, he left you alone and opened his camera roll instead. He scrolled through a few pictures of the two of you before finding one from your very first date. He stared at the picture until his eyesight was blurry with tears.

“Do I have to lose you too?” He whispered.

Peter saw you the next day on campus and ran to you before you could walk in the other direction.

“Can we talk?” He pleaded as he stepped in front of you.

“No. We can’t.” You said and kept walking.

“Please, lover, don’t do this to me. Are we really just gonna break up over nothing?”

“Over nothing?” You stopped in your tracks and raised an eyebrow.

“That was the wrong choice of words. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean nothing-“

“It was wasn’t nothing to me.” You cut him off. “I cried myself to sleep so many times these past few months because I knew you were lying to me about something. And even now, you can’t tell me the truth about what you’ve been doing. You made me feel like I was crazy. I thought that there had to be something wrong with me because what other reason could there be for my own boyfriend to lie and say he was a bed wetter just to get out of sleeping with me? But it’s not something wrong with me. Something is wrong with you, Peter, because you couldn’t have cared less about someone who loved you more. I would’ve loved you for a lifetime and now I have to leave that all behind. So I’m not mad about nothing. Personally I have a lot to be mad about.”

You walked away before Peter had a chance to respond or apologize again. You ended up skipping the classes you had with him that day so he never had another opportunity to talk to you. Knowing he had to do whatever it took to win you back, Peter showed up at your apartment door wearing his best apology.

“Oh my God.” You groaned when you opened your door and saw who it was.

“That’s on your for opening the door without looking through the peephole.” Peter mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Are you joking?”

“No, I’m sorry. I was trying to break the ice.”

“Go away, Peter. We broke up.” You whined and started to close the door.

“I know we broke up. But I really think you should reconsider.” Peter said as he held the door open with his hand. You tried to close it again but he was stronger.

“I’m not gonna reconsider this, Peter. You think this was easy for me? I didn’t want to break up with you but you pushed me to it. It’s hard enough so please, stop making it harder. Just let me go.”

“But-“

You cut him off by closing the door in his face. Peter sighed in defeat but was not going to let a door stop him from getting you back. He swiftly left the building and scaled the side of it in an attempt to find your window. He quickly realized that buildings don’t have the floor numbers on the outside and ended up looking in a lot of strangers windows before finding yours. He saw you inside so you opened your window and tumbled into your bedroom.

“Oh my God. What the fuck? How did you even get out there?” You gasped in surprise when you saw him falling through your window.

“I climbed.” He smiled sheepishly and brushed himself off.

“You climbed? 5 stories?” You folded your arms skeptically.

“Yes. I can do that sort of thing.” Peter answered honestly as he approached you.

“You are such a liar. I can’t believe I put up with this for so long. If you think climbing five stories up the fire escape is gonna make me fake you back then-“

Peter cut you off by shooting a web at your hip and pulling you closer to him. You stumbled into his arms as he caught you with ease and looked around in bewilderment over how he managed to do such a thing.

“What the hell?” You whispered and looked at the web on your hip, still not realizing what it was.

“I need you to stop being mad at me for two minutes and listen to me.” Peter said in an tone that made you give him your full attention. His heart raced knowing that this was the moment you’d finally know the truth but he wasn’t going to let anything stop him.

“Unbutton it.” He said and patted his flannel shirt.

“If you think we’re gonna make up with some hate sex then you are sadly mistaken.” You laughed and tried to get out of his arms.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” He whined. “I mean, if you wanna do that afterwards then I’m down, but that’s not what I’m doing now. Just unbutton my shirt. Please.”

You gave him a skeptical look but did as he asked. You could feel his heart pounded in his chest as you unbuttoned the first button, then the next two.

“Never trust an atom. They make up everything.” You read off his T shirt. “Why did I need to see this?”

“Oh fuck. I forgot to put it on.” Peter realized and looked down at where his Spiderman suit was supposed to be.

“Put what on?”

“My suit.”

“Why would you put a suit on underneath your clothes?”

“Not that kind of suit. My suit. My special suit.”

“Peter, I don’t know what you’re doing here but I don’t have time for this. Just go home.” You groaned and pulled out of his arms.

“I can’t go home. I can’t walk away knowing you’re not gonna look back at me. You and I not being together doesn’t make sense to me. This isn’t how our story is supposed to go. If I know anything at all for certain it’s that you and me are supposed to end up together. So no, I’m not going home. Not until I get you to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Why I’ve been lying to you.”

“You’re gonna tell me the truth?” You stepped forward and dropped your defenses.

“Yes. I am. The truth is….” Peter trailed off and ripped open his shirt the rest of the way as he dramatically tilted his chin up. You stared at him for a long time as he stopped in that pose until you realized he wasn’t gonna move.

“Am I supposed to know what this means?” You deadpanned.

“Pretend I’m wearing Spider-Man’s suit under this shirt.” Peter whispered without changing his pose.

“Why would I pretend that?” You asked with genuine confusion. Peter slowly looked down at you and braced himself before saying his biggest secret out loud for the first time.

“Because I am Spiderman.” He said and waited for your reaction. You stared at him for a long time before letting out a laugh.

“You are so full of shit to the point where I am legitimately concerned.”

“What? I’m telling you the truth. That’s why I have to leave at a moments notice and can never stay the night. And why I’m always beaten up. Because for the past 4 years, I have been New Yorks very own vigilante, Spiderman.” Peter said proudly and did another hero-esque pose.

“Uh huh. And I’m Batman.” You replied sarcastically.

“Oh my God, are you actually?”

“No! And neither are you!” You exclaimed. “If you’re not gonna tell me the truth, then just get out of-“

Peter cut you off by shooting a web at your closet door and pulling it shut. This time, you could see the web clearly and recognized what it was.

“How did you…” You trailed off and touched the web in amazement.

“Web shooters. I used them on you before too. I made them myself, see?” Peter said and showed you the shooters on his wrist. You hesitantly reached out to touch them and ran a careful finger along the delicate technology.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you show me this instead of opening your shirt?” You looked up to ask him.

“I wanted to be theatric.” Peter mumbled in embarrassment. You cracked a smile and looked like you were about to forgive him when your face suddenly hardened.

“I need more proof. Anybody could make those. How do I know you’re the real Spiderman?”

“Because I can do this.” Peter said and casually jumped and stuck to the ceiling with his right hand.

“And this.” He added and brought the rest of his body to the ceiling so that he could crawl across your room. He crawled over your head and dropped down to the floor as you watched with a dropped jaw.

“And sometimes this if a stretch.” Peter prefaced before attempting a backflip. Instead, he landed right on his back with a hard thud.

“Peter?” You gasped and went to see if he was okay.

“I didn’t stretch.” He groaned and rubbed his aching body.

“Oh my God. You’re ridiculous.” You chuckled and helped him off the floor.

“But do you believe me now?” Peter smiled hopefully.

“I kinda have to believe you now.”

“I just hope you know I’d never cheat on you or intentionally keep things from you. This is just something that I had to navigate completely on my own and I had no rules to go by. I was making it up as I went and I thought it would be best if nobody knew. Ned only knows because he accidentally found out. Same with May. I would’ve told you sooner if I knew how much it was gonna affect our relationship. Just please believe that I never meant for it to hurt you.” Peter said as he put his hands on your shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell me all of this before?” You asked as tears from being overwhelmed fell down your face.

“Because I have no idea what kind of people are gonna come after me because of this. But I do know the number one person they could use to hurt me is you. I didn’t want to risk something happening to you if my enemies knew you were my girlfriend. So I figured if you didn’t know you were dating Spiderman, no one would know Spiderman was dating you.”

“You have enemies?” Your eyes softened as thought about your sweet boyfriend having people actively targeting him.

“Not like arch nemeses who sit in their evil lairs and plot my downfall like Mojo Jojo or Doofenshmirtz or something. But I have had to fight some pretty bad guys. I even fought one in space.” Peter shyly admitted.

“You’ve been to space?!”

“Just the once. And then I died or whatever.” Peter tried to make it sound casual so you wouldn’t freak out. You ran your fingers through your hair and gave them a stressful tug as you processed everything you were hearing.

“How long did you say you’ve been like this?” You asked him.

“I was bitten by a radioactive spider when I was 16. So four years now.”

“I’ve known you for 6 years.”

“Yeah. Since freshman year.” He smiled at the memory of meeting you his first day of high school.

“You’ve been lying to me for over half of them.” You said quietly, making Peters smile drop.

“Wait, what? I thought you were forgiving me.” Peters heart stopped when he realized you were still upset.

“Forgive you? For keeping this huge part of your life from me for years and letting it effect our relationship?”

“But…but I told you the truth.” Peter said weakly.

“Yeah, after telling me a million lies. And I had to break up with you to get the truth out of you. Seriously Peter, how many times do you think you’ve had to lie to me over the years just to keep this secret?”

“A lot.” He admitted.

“Exactly. I mean, what did you expect Peter? That you could just walk in here and tell me this and I’d just forget about all the pain your lies have caused me?”

“But you said if I told you the truth then we would be okay.” Peter reminded you as he started to tear up.

“That was before I knew that all your lying was because of a much much bigger lie.”

“I was only lying to you to protect you. I was trying to prevent something bad happening to you because of this thing that happened to me. I didn’t ask to be this way. And you definitely didn’t sign up for it either. So I just wanted to keep you as far away from it as possible so that you could live the normal life that I no longer get to have.”

“All I can think about right now is all the special events that you missed or the cancelled dates that I spent time planning and how you weren’t there.”

“I wanted to be there.” Peter shouted.

“But you weren’t!” You shouted back. “And I’ve had no idea why until now! You’ve made me feel like I was an afterthought for years now. All my friends call you a flake. They told me to break up with you every time I called them crying because you were gonna miss another important event. So sorry if you thought that telling me your secret would make me forget all of that, but it doesn’t. I remember the pain all too well.”

“I did not miss that much.” Peter insisted.

“Oh really? You weren’t at my 17th or my 20th birthday. You missed me speaking at our high school graduation. You stood me up on prom night and for the homecoming dance-“

“Okay, okay. I get it.” He cut you off. “But I only missed those events because I was off saving the world.”

“Then you should focus on that. Don’t let me stop you.” You said with a sad shrug. You weren’t saying it to be mean, but to be realistic.

“Lover, please. It’s us. We can’t be over.” Peter quietly pleaded as he tried to take your hand.

“It’s for the best, Peter. I won’t be a distraction to you anymore. You can live your double life without ever having to worry about who it’s hurting again. And I won’t have to live as your second choice anymore. We both win.” You said as you pulled your hand out of his.

“Win?” He laughed sadly. “I see this as an absolute loss.”

“So do I.” You mumbled and kept you eyes on the floor.

Peter looked down at the web shooters on his wrists and thought back to when he believed telling you the truth would fix everything. He never would’ve guessed that the truth wasn’t enough. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to juggle being Spiderman and having a girlfriend and now he didn’t have to wonder.

“This isn’t what I wanted.” He said quietly, mostly to himself.

“Me either.” You admitted

“So why are we breaking up? Can’t we just agree to disagree and move on?” Peter begged as he wiped his tears from his face.

“You don’t think fights like this will come up all the time? You’re still gonna be leaving me every night and I’m still gonna resent it. This isn’t something we can just agree to disagree on. Think about it, it’ll only get worse if we’re older. We can ignore this now but if we decided to get married and start a family one day, how do you think our kids would feel about their dad never being a consistent presences in their life? As someone who is constantly getting ditched by you, I already know that I never want my kids to feel that way. I think that if we really love each other, we have to accept that we aren’t right for each other.”

“Can’t we just date for the rest of college and then go our separate ways after that? It’s not like we’re gonna be trying to have kids anytime soon.” Peter asked in an last attempt to get you to stay with him.

“I can’t keep dating you when I know one day it’s gonna end. I can’t have a deadline for our relationship hanging over my head. We need to end this now before we feel like can never walk away from each other.”

“I already feel that way.” Peter said and started to cry harder. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay, but you weren’t sure that it would. Instead, you held yourself in your arms and tried to hold back your tears.

“I’m sorry, Peter. I would’ve loved you for the rest of my life. And I still love you now. But I can’t keep letting you in just for you to go again. You need to stay gone this time. It’s over. I’m done.” You said as you sadly shook your head. Peter looked into your eyes and held your gaze for a long time until he came to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to change your mind. He nodded his head and wiped his face before walking towards your door. He was about to open it and leave before turning to look at you.

“If I had never been bitten, would we still be together?” He asked you. You gave him a sympathetic smile and nodded your head.

“I can’t imagine anything else that could make me walk away from you.” You answered him honestly. Peter nodded again and left your room before you could see him fully break down. Once he was out in your hallway, he covered his mouth with his hand and ran out of your apartment as tears gushed out of his eyes.

Exactly a week later, a week that had no contact between you and Peter, Peter heard a knock at his window. He curiously went over to it and pulled up his blinds to see you sitting out on his fire escape. Peter immediately opened the window and let you in, heart pounding in his ears the whole time. You sheepishly pulled a bouquet of poppies, Peters favorite flower, out from behind your back and handed it to him.

“You’re here?” Peter asked in disbelief as he took the flowers.

“I climbed.”

“Really? All that way?”

“You live on the first floor.” You reminded him. “It was just that one flight of stairs up the fire escape.”

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked as he looked down at the flowers.

“I realized something.” You said with a soft smile.

“What did you realize?”

“I was thinking about you missing my graduation speech. I was not thinking about you missing your graduation.” You began. Peter opened his mouth to respond but shut it when he realized he hadn’t thought about that either. He felt so guilty about missing your speech that he never had time to be upset over missing his own high school graduation.

“I also wasn’t thinking about how you made me put on my cap and gown and sneak into the school with you that night so that I could give the speech again.”

“I wanted to hear it.” Peter smiled softly.

“I know you did. The same way you snuck into my room with a candle stuck in an Oreo so that you could sing to me after missing my 17th birthday party.” You smiled at the memory. Peter smiled in return and started to grow hopeful that you were forgiving him. His hopes got higher when you took both his hands in yours.

“If you were a different man, you would’ve continued to live your life the way you wanted. You would’ve embraced the cool new features and ignored that responsibilities that came with them. But that’s not you, Peter. You’ve never been the kind of guy who just stands to the side and let’s other people take care of a problem. If you have any opportunity to help, you take it. And if you don’t have an opportunity, you create one for yourself. That’s who you are. That’s who you’ve always been. And that’s one of the things I love most about you. It would be wrong of me to expect you to change that part of yourself for my sake. So yeah, I wish you made it to my birthday and yeah I wish you heard my graduation speech the first time. But maybe saving someone’s life is a little more important than me.” You said with a teasing smile.

“Maybe just a little.” He chuckled. You laughed in return before looking at him for a long time. You knew it was going to be hard, but you knew it was going to be worth it. After all, it was Peter. And you loved Peter.

Peter stayed perfectly still as you moved your hands and placed them on either side of his face. You brought your forehead to rest against his and stayed in comfortably silence for a moment until Peter broke down crying. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close as he thanked every entity he could think of for be able to keep you.

“I’m sorry I got so mad at you.” You mumbled against his chest.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t know how I would’ve reacted to this either. I gave you a lot to process.”

“You did. And now that I’ve had time to think about it, I know what I want and what I don’t want.” You said as you pulled away a little so that you could look at him.

“What do you not want?” Peter gulped and braced himself for the worse.

“Well I know you’ve had to sacrifice a lot because of this. And I don’t want to be another sacrifice you have to make.”

“But what about what you said about resenting me constantly leaving you? Or me never being there for our kids?”

“I won’t resent you if I know you’re out there saving people’s lives. I’ll be lonely, sure, but I’ll understand that you have more important places to be.”

“What about our kids?”

“We’ll figure that out when we get there. But I’m pretty sure they’d be okay if they knew their daddy was off saving the world.”

“And what about us? Are we okay?” Peter asked and held his breath until he heard the answer.

“It’s us. We’ll always be okay.” You shrugged before giving Peter a warm smile. Peter let out a huge sigh of relief and felt his heart become whole again. All of his sacrifices felt like they were paying off now that he knew he had you and you weren’t going anywhere. He made a silent vow that he would make more of an effort to make you feel like a priority now that your relationship had gone through and survived the great war. He would always make his hero duties his top priority, but he would never let you feel neglected again.

“It’s been a week without you, lover, and I’ve been miserable. Can I please kiss you?” He asked for permission first, just like the first time.

“Yeah, Spiderman.” You called him for the first time. “Get over here and kiss me.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey @20fandomfangirl

@lavender-writer @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl

@jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah

@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland

@yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff

@maybemona @alexxcorona113

#peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction

[vulturv0lans]

ive been marinating in this neuvillette thought for days and it is. you know how it rains when he cries. well. what if it starts raining all of a sudden bc his partner is domming him and it just feels so good and he feels so loved he starts crying in pleasure like rip fontaine its rainy hours now

violently ill at this thought rn...also i love that you used "marinating" i might have to steal it i've never written dom reader before so i hope this doesn't suck i'm sorry

it's raining in fontaine again.

not a storm, with raindrops so heavy that they feel like bullets hitting one's skin.

drizzling, soft rain. disappearing as quickly as it came, that people barely have time to dig out their umbrellas before the sky clears again.

of course, rain is nothing new to the people of fontaine, but rather a habitual occurrence. it is said that dark clouds form and rain falls when the hydro dragon weeps. a beautiful legend, yet not many truly believe in it.

but to neuvillette, chief justice of the opera epilesce, the dragon sovereign of this sacred land, whose name people admire but whose face people rarely see, being in his current position is anything but habitual.

his hands are bound to the bedpost by a pair of shiny handcuffs - just where did you get those? he makes a note to interrogate wriothesley later for ever lending you these - but not that he really minds, of course. his white ruffled blouse is rolled up to expose his porcelain skin, slightly damp with a layer of sweat. the veins in his forearms become just that much more prominent with every tug and pull, desperate to be able to touch you.

he’s nearing his orgasm for what feels like the tenth time now, yet you show no sign of granting him his release anytime soon. your hand expertly pumps his cock, now red and leaking in angry protest, occasionally running your thumb over his sensitive tip. his body jolts in response, toes curled and hips bucking into your hand.

neuvillette’s skin burns a deeper shade of red as he thinks of just how lewd his current position is. but before he can fathom another thought, the pink of your lips wrap around his cock and he almost explodes in your mouth at the feather light touch alone.

“please, let me-”

you release him with a loud pop, “let you what?”

he musters a deep, guttural groan at the sudden loss of contact, “let me cum, please.”

you only hum in response. he’s been doing so well, so good for you that maybe he deserves a reward - just not the one he had in mind.

quickly ridding yourself of your lower garments, you straddle him on the bed before slowly moving up. neuvillette curses under his breath in anticipation, eyes fluttering shut before pulling you closer to his waiting mouth, hands instinctively wanting to touch you but are met with a sharp tug of the metal instead.

“be good and stay put for me,” you tut, the rest of your sentence dies in your throat when he impatiently wraps his mouth around your aching clit, the familiar warmth forcing a loud moan off your cherry lips. every noise you make is like fuel to him, silently encouraging him to go deeper, faster, temporarily forgetting about the pathetic state of his cock, rock hard against his stomach and almost dripping precum from several denied orgasms.

he picks up his pace and grows bolder, dipping the tip of his tongue into your folds to get a better taste of you. soon you’re shaking and cumming on his face, juices dripping down his chin before he licks up every single drop, not letting any of your essence go to waste. violet eyes are three shades darker when you finally come down from your high, his skin glistening and his breath fanning across your core in heavy pants.

you smile at him, lazily playing with a strand of his hair as you lean down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. neuvillette kisses back eagerly, head lifting from the pillows to get better access to your mouth, teeth and tongue clashing as you reposition your core by his aching cock.

“seems like you deserve a little reward,” you whisper when you finally break the kiss for air, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips, and your tongue pokes out to lick it off of his mouth, a sight so lewd yet so beautiful that he begins to think he’s dreaming.

a whimper escapes him before he can stop it, but what use does dignity have anyways when your warm cunt is grinding against his erection? the tip of his cock catches on your clit deliciously with every sway of your hips, and perhaps he’s still sensitive from the relentless play session earlier, his breaths quickly become heavy pants as you grind into him, coating his length in your slick.

and then he begs.

his words so dirty that they become a sin, one that the gods could never hear of. forget the seven or the dragon sovereign, all he can think about is to be snugly inside you and feeling your walls milk out every last drop of him. despite being rendered powerless by something as trivial as (human) handcuffs - what a shame - the primal desires in him still wants to breed you. to mark your insides and claim it as his.

a high pitched noise escapes him when you finally end the teasing and lower yourself onto him, your wetness making a small squelch as you sink into his length, moaning out from feeling so utterly full. neuvillette is not much clearer headed, the tight squeeze of your pussy around his abused cock threatens to make him cum right there, before you even start moving.

luckily for him, you have grown desperate from all the teasing too, looking to chase the remnants of your high. you lift your hips up before slamming back down onto him, the tip of his cock reaching the most delicious places inside you. you waste no time in picking up the pace, your tits bouncing with the rhythm of your hips that all he wants is to reach out and hold them, pinch your pink nipples between his fingers and feel the perfect weight of your breasts in his palms.

if only he could touch you. even in your desperate chase for another high you don’t forget to praise him, muttering dirty words about how big he is and how good he’s making you feel. still you show no sign of freeing him from his restraints anytime soon, no matter how many pleases he whispers in between moans.

he is so helpless under you, the sight of it filling you with so much satisfaction that you can't help but want to draw out his orgasm despite feeling so close yourself. his tip twitches inside you and you lift your hips up, the emptiness soon replaced by smugness when you notice the tears pricking his lash line, a visual proof of

and it rains outside. raindrops like translucent whispers tapping against the windowpane with a rhythmic cadence, the sound barely audible above the heavy pants and mumbled pleas next to your ear. the tip of his cock is an angry red and your lover is reduced to a blabbering mess as he strains against the handcuffs, toned muscles flexing and his porcelain skin flushes with heat, drops of drool at the corner of his downturned lips as he pleads for mercy.

"you've been so good for me," you press a kiss to his lips and taste him on your tongue, salty and sweet and dizzying.

the metal clinks as it falls to the floor, and before you know it his hands are on you like a man starved. you squeal in surprise when he wastes no time in lowering you onto him again and thrusting into you with renewed fervour, reaching so deep into you that you are seeing stars with every delicious drag of his cock in your walls.

the drizzle slows as the clouds stop their weeping, puddles on the pavement being the only evidence of the earlier downpour. neuvillette is finally granted his release and paints your insides white after what felt like hours of torment. you collapse on top of him, legs quivering from your own high, and neither of you says a single word as your breathing slows to normal.

"you think they'd need an umbrella again anytime soon?"

© vulturv0lans 2023, do not copy, steal, repost, or translate.

m.list | neuvillette m.list | inbox requests open!

#luna writes ☽ #genshin impact #genshin smut #neuvillette smut #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader

[lunarfleur]

Caught In The Rain ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Summary: You shuffled awkwardly in the middle of his bedroom, your clothes still sopping wet. It hadn’t even been 3 months since you started dating, so, truthfully, you couldn’t help but get nervous at the thought of being in such a situation.

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @hiyaitssans @enchanting-violet @nagi3seastorm @milesmolasses @urfavnegronerd @luvjunie @kombuuuu

Warnings:None! Just fluff!

A/N:Reader and Miles have only been dating for like…a little over two months. Shy baby Miles Morales. Meeting Rio :)

This is x gender neutral reader!

“God damnit,” Miles mumbled under his breath.

You trailed behind him awkwardly, shivering slightly while he continuously cursed as quietly as he could. Miles hated getting wet. You learned that.

You two had been on a walk together when it started pouring. There wasn’t any light rain as a warning, no sprinkling. It was like the clouds just decided to explode. The both of you sprinted to his apartment building. It was closer. He opened his door slowly, peeking inside. He was looking for his mother. She was supposed to be home. For once, he was hoping she wasn’t.

You followed him through the house and down a hallway, into a room that you soon realized was his Miles’s bedroom.

“I’ll-uh, I’ll get you something to wear. Gimme a sec.” You nodded in response.

You liked his room. It was simple, but cozy. Small, neat, and completely clean. His bed was made, his desk completely organized. There was a candle on his desk, along with two cups with pens and pencils. His laptop sat in the dead center. On a shelf against a wall was a record player, right next to a very large stack of records. On top of his dresser was a picture frame and a few bottles of cologne. Only one seemed to be used.

You shuffled awkwardly in the middle of his bedroom, your clothes still sopping wet. It hadn’t even been 3 months since you started dating, so, truthfully, you couldn’t help but get nervous at the thought of being in such a situation. In his bedroom, getting clothes from him? Terrifying.

Miles walked back in a moment later. He had replaced his wet clothes with dry, comfier ones. Black sweatpants and a long sleeve white shirt. He had white socks on.

He walked past you, opening a few drawers in his dresser and rummaging through them. His clothes. You were getting his clothes. It made your stomach flip. He turned back to you, handing you a stack of clean clothes.

“Um, the bathroom’s to the left and down the hall,” he told you, shuffling awkwardly. You nodded, and quickly turned heel to go change.

You shut and locked the door to the bathroom as fast as you could without slamming it. You clutched the clothes in your hand, taking a deep breath. Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your head.

Miles had given you a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue t-shirt, along with a small towel. You rid yourself of the clothes that stuck to your skin and pulled on the warm ones. They smelled good, that’s all you could notice as you pulled the shirt over your head. It smelled fresh, with a faint scent of vanilla.

You stepped out of the bathroom and made your way back into his room. He looked up at you, now sitting on his bed, and silently scooted over. You pretended not to notice the way his eyes looked over you, along with the way it made your heart skip a beat.

You sat down, awkwardly closing in on yourself as to take up as little room as possible. You were in his room, right? It was better not to intrude, right?

“I’ll -uh, go put those in the dryer,” he chuckled nervously, being quick with the way he made his way out of his room. He came back not 5 minutes later. You still sat on his bed, waiting anxiously.

“Do you…wanna watch something?” He asked, grabbing his laptop off of his desk. You nodded.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, smiling.

He sat next to you, opening his laptop and putting in his password. Your eyes traveled to the wall next to you. Pictures were stuck against the wall, ones of him and Ganke, or him and various other people who you assumed were family. He looked younger in all of them, and it made you wonder if he was even in any anymore.

It was your knee touching his that pulled your attention away. You watched his eyes flicker over to where you two collided, then return back to the screen in front of him. He did move, you noticed.

“Miles, I’m home!” A voice called from somewhere else in the house. It sent chills up your spine. It was his mother.

You were suddenly grateful for the way you didn’t close his door behind him, and for the available space on the bed that allowed you to scoot over.

She peeked in the door, a beautiful woman. Miles looked like her. She had long, dark, wavy brown hair that was in a braid thrown over her shoulder. Her hazel eyes matched those speckles in Miles’s eyes, the ones that made them shine. She was wearing scrubs, standard nurse attire.

She gasped lightly upon seeing you, smiling. It gave you some relief, at least.

“Are you [name]?” She asked excitedly. You nodded hesitantly, smiling at her reaction.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Morales.” She beamed, and you could have sworn you hear Miles sigh of relief.

“We, uh, got caught in the rain,” Miles informed his mother. Rio nodded knowingly, smiling.

“Well, you’re welcome to anything in the house, make yourself at home. Oh, and keep this door open,” she told you before exiting the room.

Miles looked at you, smiling gently. It wasn’t rare for him to smile at you, but you still weren’t used to it. All you had seen in the time leading up to becoming close with him was his very, very bad resting bitch face.

“She likes you,” Miles pointed out. You couldn’t help but grin.

“I’m glad. That was terrifying,” you chuckled. He leaned against the back of his bed. You did the same. Your shoulders touched and it sent goosebumps flying across your skin.

“What do you want to watch?” He asked.

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles fluff #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spiderman #miles morales