#Now it's the ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE FALL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coryndoll · 15 hours ago

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waking up to you ₍₁₂₎

plot ── you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

content ── this a long one i fear, another journal entry (u can literally see it right there help), rafe being as bf as he can, more ward awkward avoiding tension, some talks !! reader taking a few more steps to coming home

authors note ── ermm hi guys, I FINALLY FOUND THE TIME TO WRITE. lmk if u still wanna be part of this tag list, i was unable to keep up with any of my last requests for this series on the last part because its been 2 months so please lmk now or turn my notifications on !! <3

‘ it all came crashing down again. family dinner at the camerons. i swear i tried, i really did. i didn’t want to be that girl anymore. the one they all whisper about behind my back, the one they think is just a spoiled, bitchy princess. i really thought i was getting better. but i guess i was wrong.

i’m so angry at myself, i can’t even see straight. i was rude. i didn’t mean to be, but i was to everyone. & i know they saw it. i saw the looks, heard the tension. i could feel it, like they were all waiting for me to screw up. waiting for me to be the person they’ve always known. i tried to prove them wrong, but i ended up just making it worse.

and sarah?? she just doesn’t get it. i don’t even know why i said half of the things i did. she said something that just triggered me & i couldn’t stop myself.

i just started spitting out words, things i probably didn’t even mean, all because i wanted to hurt her the way i was hurt. because i couldn’t stand the thought that maybe they were right about me. & rafe had to intervene too. it was so fucking embarrassing.

it was like the moment she opened her mouth, i became that girl again. the girl who can’t hold her tongue, the girl who lashes out when she feels cornered. & maybe that’s exactly what i am. maybe i haven’t changed. maybe they were right all along.

it’s like, every time i try to take a step forward, i end up falling so far back & i can’t even pick myself up anymore.

like what’s the point of changing if nothing changes? what’s the point of trying to be better when people are always going to see you as the same bitch you’ve always been?

maybe i really haven’t changed. ’

the journal is gripped tightly in your hand as you read the words that spill from the page, feeling the weight of the other y/n’s heartache.

everything she says, all the bitterness and the regret, it feels so raw, so real, and it stings like something you’ve felt before. you don’t know if you’re even supposed to feel sorry for her, but something tugs at your chest still.

the y/n who wrote this, she really believed it, didn’t she? she believed she hadn’t changed, that no matter how much she tried, she was always going to be stuck in this version of herself. the girl who could never win.

a soft sigh slips from your lips as you shut the journal with a soft thud. you toss it onto the desk like it might catch fire if you hold it any longer and lean back in the chair with a sigh.

for a moment, you just sit there, staring at the closed journal, your thoughts spinning. it’s clear now how much that argument with sarah weighed on her.

even if sarah and rafe don’t care about it anymore, because they don’t, right? otherwise, sarah wouldn’t have been so friendly when you first landed here, and rafe wouldn’t have looked so damn happy to wake up next to you. her.

but jesus, it must’ve taken a toll if she felt the need to spill her guts onto these pages.

you run your hands back through your hair, bringing your knees up to your chest as you try to make sense of it all. so, what’s the point of this? why are you here? why her? you don’t get it. any of it. but for some reason, it feels like time is slipping through your fingers, like there’s some invisible clock ticking down, and if you don’t figure out what the hell you’re supposed to do soon, you’ll never make it back home.

your chest tightens at the thought, and you look back at the journal on the desk. it doesn’t hold the answers you need, but for a second, you feel like maybe it’s the only thing tying you to the pieces of her life.

you will get back home.

you have to.

the first floor of the home feels colder than you expected, but you can hear something downstairs in the basement. it’s just muffled voices, sarah’s laugh, rafe saying something you can’t quite make out.

you take a slow breath, pulling your jacket tighter around your body as you walk down the steps. the closer you get, the more your chest tightens, like you’re walking into something you’re not supposed to see.

from the last few steps, you spot them. sarah’s leaning against the glass wall of the wine cellar, arms crossed loosely over her chest, her head tilted back in laughter. rafe is crouched inside the glass room, fiddling with something in his hands, while ward kneels near an empty wine rack, muttering something under his breath.

you haven’t been down here yet. the room feels so untouched, so pristine, like it belongs in one of those glossy magazines about rich people’s homes. there’s a bar in the far left corner of the room, the walls are lined with racks of expensive wine bottles, each label perfectly aligned. the air is cooler here, crisp and sharp, carrying the faint scent of oak and something else you can’t quite place.

rafe is the first to notice you. he glances over his shoulder as he stands, his foot pressing against the ground for balance. his hands fidget for a second before he straightens, brushing them over the front of his shirt. sarah notices his distraction and follows his gaze, her laugh fading into a quiet smile as she turns to look at you.

and then there’s ward. crouched near the wine rack, he drags a hand down his face and jaw, his movements slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to collect himself. when his eyes meet yours, the air shifts.

the tension is immediate. it always is.

you feel it in the way sarah and rafe go quiet, not because they have anything against you, but because it’s almost instinctual when ward’s in the room. you can’t blame them.

rafe’s the first to move. he runs a hand over his buzzed hair, his lips parting like he’s about to say something to ward, but instead, he steps out of the glass room and toward you. his hand reaches out to gently grasp your shoulders, his touch grounding.

“hey, babe,” he says softly, his voice low enough that it doesn’t carry far. “what are you— what are you doing up here? i thought you said you were reading.”

right, the lie you told him so you can read his real girlfriends journal.

you open your mouth to respond, but ward cuts in from behind the glass. “it’s fine, rafe,” he says, his tone even but clipped, like he’s dismissing the entire situation before it can escalate.

rafe’s grip on your shoulders tightens for a moment before he glances back at his dad. you follow his gaze, your eyes locking on ward as he stands, clearing his throat. his hand drags down his beard again, and he turns his attention back to the wine bottles.

he adjusts one of them, then another, like he’s mentally calculating if they’re placed correctly. finally, he straightens, his shoulders rolling back as he steps out of the cellar.

rafe’s hand slides down to yours, his fingers wrapping around yours as he gently pulls you off the stairs and onto the tile floor. ward doesn’t say anything as he walks past. he nods at you, a brief acknowledgment, before continuing up the stairs.

you gnaw on your bottom lip, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach. what could this version of you have possibly done to make him act like this all the time?

rafe looks back at sarah, who’s still standing near the wine racks, her expression unreadable. then he turns back to you, his voice softer now. “i’ll be back, alright?” he says, squeezing your hand gently. “we can watch our movie tonight.”

“but dad wanted to watch that new movie with us in the living room tonight,” sarah pipes up, her voice cutting through the quiet. she shifts her weight, her arms crossing over her chest. “are you seriously bailing on him again? you already did last month. he’s not gonna be so happy.”

rafe’s jaw tightens, and he snaps at her, “yeah, but dad is never happy.”

you know that isn’t true. ward was literally just laughing before you came downstairs. rafe’s just trying to make you feel better, to shift the blame onto someone else.

he looks at you again, his gaze softening. “i’ll be there soon, okay?” he promises, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips before disappearing up the stairs.

you stand there in silence, your arms wrapping around yourself instinctively, as if to shield against the invisible judgment that seems to follow you everywhere in this house.

you’re not even sure why you feel this way. it’s not your fault ward doesn’t like you. it’s not even you he doesn’t like. but being in the place of someone who carries so much baggage with him makes it impossible not to take it personally.

you glance toward sarah, who hasn’t moved from her spot near the bar. she doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you with an unreadable expression. then, with a light shrug, she pulls out a stool and sits down, leaning her elbows on the bar behind her.

“hey,” she says casually, her voice cutting through the quiet, “at least he only left the room this time. you know, instead of muttering something under his breath like he used to.”

your brows furrow, and for a moment, you just stare at her, trying to figure out if she’s serious. she’s smiling, clearly trying to lighten the mood, but her words settle awkwardly in your chest.

you huff, crossing the room and sliding onto the stool next to her. “is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask, your voice low and a little sharp, though not intentionally.

sarah’s smile falters. her shoulders straighten, and she tilts her head slightly, studying you. “i mean . . .” she starts, but then stops, her frown deepening. “you’re really upset about this, huh?”

you don’t answer right away. you just look down at the polished wood of the bar, tracing an invisible line with your finger.

sarah doesn’t press you for a response. instead, she leans back a little, resting her hands on the edge of the bar. “look,” she says after a moment, her tone softer now, “i know my dad. he’s . . . stubborn. i mean like, painfully stubborn. me and rafe and even wheezie get it from him. but he’ll get over it. he always does. and honestly, he’s kind of stupid if he doesn’t see you for who you really are.”

you glance at her, surprised by the conviction in her voice. “and who am i, exactly?”

sarah smiles, but it’s not the teasing kind you’re used to. it’s thoughtful, almost sad. “you’re someone who loves my brother. and i mean, really loves him. i never thought i’d see that, you know? someone like you, loving someone like rafe.”

your brows knit together, and you shift in your seat, tilting your head. “someone like me?”

she hesitates, her gaze dropping for a second before meeting yours again. “yeah,” she says quietly. “you’re . . . you. independent, smart, ambitious. you don’t take anyone’s crap, not even his. and trust me, he needs that. but more than that, you’ve always been real, like authentic. even when you were kind of a bitch, and sorry, but you were sometimes, you were just . . . lost. we all were.”

her words hit you harder than you expect, and you’re not sure why. maybe it’s because she’s seeing y/n, like really seeing her, in a way that no one else in this house seems to.

“you’ve been one of my best friends for years,” sarah continues, her voice steady but warm. “even when we weren’t as close, i always knew you were still you. and now? now, you’re finding yourself again. and it’s really good to see. even if it took my idiot brother to bring you back.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “i don’t know if i’m really ‘back.’”

sarah shrugs, leaning forward on her elbows. “maybe not. but you’re getting there. and honestly, if my dad doesn’t see that? if he doesn’t see how much you love rafe, how much you’re trying? then he’s an even bigger idiot than i thought.”

you can’t help but grin at that, a small, genuine smile tugging at your lips. “that’s your dad you’re talking about.”

“yeah, well,” sarah says, grinning back, “he deserves it sometimes.”

there’s a moment of quiet between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s the kind of silence that feels like an understanding, like a bridge being built.

“and . . . i’m actually, like, so sorry for last week,” you say with a wave of your hand. “for the way i blew up on you. i could’ve handled it so much better, but i didn’t. and that’s on me. i’m trying to do better, to be better, so stuff like that doesn’t happen again.”

sarah’s eyes soften, and she reaches over to place a hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “oh my god, y/n, it’s fine,” she says, her tone light and reassuring. “seriously. one argument isn’t going to ruin us. i know you’re trying, and i see it. besides, if we’ve survived rafe’s terrible cooking, i think we can survive anything.”

you can’t help but laugh at that even though the memories aren’t yours, but the tension in your chest is easing just a little. “you’re not wrong,” you play it off, shaking your head.

sarah snorts, leaning back on her stool. “see? we’ve been through worse. and we’re still here.”

then, she straightens up, her expression turning more serious.

“you really are changing, y/n,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “and i like this new version of you. and someday, the whole world’s gonna see it too. especially when we’re traveling to every country, helping everyone, saving who we can.”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift, “traveling.”

sarah nods, her smile returning, though it’s tinged with something bittersweet. “yeah. remember? that stupid plan we made in the eighth grade. i can’t believe i remember that. you and me, seeing the world, doing something that matters. i mean, we’re obviously still doing that, right?”

her words stir something in you, something deep and unspoken. you don’t remember reading about it in the journal, but it feels so warm.

as far as you can tell, in the show it was like sarah’s life was pretty much just figured out for her, as if she’d be stuck in outerbanks all her life but . . . even y/n managed to build plans with her to explore the world. sarah didn’t need some treasure hunting plot, she had y/n.

“yeah,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “we’re still doing that.”

sarah’s smile widens, and before you can say anything else, she leans in, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. you hesitate for only a second before hugging her back, resting your chin on her shoulder.

but the hug ends too quickly, and not in the way you expect. one second, sarah’s leaning forward, and the next, she’s losing her balance.

you feel yourself teetering backward, your hand instinctively shooting out to steady yourself on the edge of the bar, but it’s no use, sarah’s grip slips, and in her panic, she reaches for the counter.

the sound of glass shattering on the floor is instant. sharp. final.

your heart jumps into your throat as both of you freeze, wide-eyed.

“oh my god,” you whisper, staring at the bar even though you can’t see the damage from where you’re sitting. your mouth falls open, and you glance at sarah, whose face is twisted into a mixture of guilt and disbelief.

“oh my god,” sarah echoes, her voice quieter but no less panicked. she’s leaning over the counter, trying to peek at the mess below, though it’s clear she can’t see anything either.

you don’t know whether to laugh or panic, and for a few seconds, you do neither. you just stare at her, waiting for her reaction.

finally, sarah pulls back and looks at you, her lips pressed into a tight line as if she’s trying to hold it together. but then her expression cracks, and she lets out a breathy, almost defeated laugh.

“okay. okay, this is fine,” she says, more to herself than to you. “i’ll clean it up. just . . . go upstairs, and i’ll meet you up there.”

“are you sure?” you ask, watching as she makes her way across the room toward a neatly hung broom and dustpan set on the wall.

“yes, i’m sure,” she says, already pulling the broom off its hook. “this isn’t my first time breaking something down here. trust me, i’ve got this.”

you chuckle, shaking your head as you stand. “if you say so,” you say, still feeling a little guilty.

you linger for a moment, watching as she starts sweeping up the shards of glass with practiced ease. then, with a final glance over your shoulder, you head for the stairs.

you take the last step cautiously, your hand grazing the banister as your eyes scan the room. that’s when you see him.

rafe is just leaving the kitchen, his broad shoulders disappearing through the sliding glass door that leads to the backyard.

“a’right, i’ll be back,” he calls out, his voice carrying easily through the space. you watch him go, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment before it hits you. you’re not alone.

ward is still in the kitchen. he’s standing at the head of the island, facing you, his hands resting on the countertop. his posture is stiff, almost tense, like he’s deep in thought.

your first instinct is to turn around, to slip quietly into the living room and make your way to the staircase that leads up to rafe’s room. oh, wonder how this’ll play out. if ward’s here, he probably doesn’t want you here.

he doesn’t move at first. his hands rest on the edge of the counter, his gaze cast downward like he’s deep in thought or maybe just tired. for a second, it looks like he’s about to scratch the back of his head and walk away, but he stays rooted in place.

and then, before you can stop yourself, you take a step forward.

“why don’t you like me?”

your voice comes out stronger than you expect, cutting through the silence like a knife.

ward freezes. his head lifts slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a sharpness that makes your breath hitch. at first, he looks almost offended, his brows pulling together in a way that feels like a warning. but then, slowly, his expression shifts.

he doesn’t say anything.

“no, seriously,” you press, your voice a little shakier now but still firm. “why don’t you like me? for god knows how long, you’ve been nothing but . . . or no, you’ve been literally nothing.”

ward’s gaze doesn’t waver, but there’s something in the way he tilts his head slightly, like he’s listening even if he doesn’t want to.

“i can’t wrap my head around it,” you continue, the words coming faster now. “are we ever going to fix this? or are we just going to live the rest of our lives avoiding each other? because, honestly, it feels like we owe it to the family to at least try to communicate. every time i walk into a room with you, it’s like everything and everyone goes still. and i just— what did i ever do to you?”

your voice cracks on the last word, and you hate it, hate how vulnerable you sound. but you don’t look away. you can’t.

ward’s head lowers slightly, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you. it’s the kind of look a parent gives when they hear something they don’t like. it’s stern, almost disapproving. but you’re just as upset as he is, and you feel like you have every right to be.

he cocks his head toward the island, the motion subtle but deliberate. it takes you a moment to realize he’s gesturing to one of the stools.

“sit down,” he says.

you hesitate, your brows furrowing as you try to gauge his intentions. but then he turns away, walking over to the sink.

you watch as he picks up a towel and starts wiping down a plate. he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say anything else, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve made a mistake.

still, you move toward the stool, your steps cautious. you settle into it carefully, your shoulders tense but beginning to ease as you watch him work.

finally, ward glances at you out of the corner of his eye. he sets the plate down on the counter, his hand still holding the towel as he speaks.

“i don’t hate you, you know,” he says, his voice calm but firm. his movements are slow, deliberate, like he’s trying to buy himself time before speaking again.

he presses his palms against the edge of the sink, his fingers flexing once before he turns his head slightly in your direction. “and i was wrong,” he says, nodding once like he’s confirming it to himself as much as to you. “i know that.”

your breath catches. of all the things you expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them.

ward turns to face you fully, his expression unreadable but not as closed off as before. you don’t say anything, just watching, waiting, because this conversation, this moment, shouldn’t be happening with you. it should be happening with her.

but it’s not. it’s you. and you don’t know what to do with that.

he sighs, rubbing his fingers together for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest. “i’ve been watching you these past few months,” he admits, his voice quieter now, more measured. “i see you. i see how much you’ve changed.”

you swallow hard, your fingers curling into your palms.

“you’re getting better.” he nods again, almost like he’s convincing himself. “i don’t think i ever said that to you. but i should have. you always had a good heart when you were a kid,” he continues, his voice distant, like he’s remembering. “but somewhere along the way, you lost it.”

“but then you came around,” he says, shaking his head slightly. “and i see that now. and look, i know i’m not the easiest person. i know i have my expectations, and i know that sometimes . . . i hold onto things longer than i should.”

he shakes his head slightly. “but you’ve proven me wrong, y/n.”

your breath catches.

ward looks at you like he’s really seeing you, his expression unreadable but different, not as guarded, not as cold. “i don’t think i’ve ever told you that. and i should have, and i’m sorry.”

your lips part slightly, but you don’t speak. you just wait.

“for a long time, i thought . . .” he pauses, considering his next words carefully. “i thought you were a bad influence on rafe, on the girls. and maybe, back then, you were. but now?” he exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “now, i see that you’re good for him. good for this family.”

“he loves you,” ward continues, his voice steady. “and i know you love him. that means something. that matters.”

your fingers twitch slightly in your lap. you don’t know what to say. you don’t even know if you should say anything.

there’s a beat of silence before he shifts his weight slightly and exhales. “look, i know this week has been . . . a lot,” he says, almost like he’s testing the words before fully committing to them. “but if you’d like, maybe, you could come with us somewhere for a few weeks like we used to when you guys were kids.”

your brows knit together slightly, lips parting in quiet surprise.

“it wouldn’t be for a while, ‘til maybe this summer,” he adds quickly, almost like he’s giving you an out. “but if you wanted to.”

you don’t know what to say. for the first time, ward cameron isn’t just tolerating your presence. he’s inviting you in. holy shit, did you just seal the deal for y/n’s relationship with ward? did you seal the deal for yourself?

ward watches you, waiting, and when you don’t say anything right away, he tilts his head slightly, his brows raising in that way dads do when they’re expecting a response. then he exhales through his nose, almost amused, shaking his head slightly.

“well?” he prompts, voice still firm but with an edge of something lighter, something that almost sounds like patience.

you blink. you don’t know what to say, but ward is still looking at you, expectant but not forceful. so you swallow the hesitation in your throat and nod slightly. “yeah,” you say softly. “forgiven . . . thank you. for everything.”

his lips press together, and he gives a single nod, like he’s acknowledging the weight of those words. then, after a beat, he pats his palm against the counter once, as if sealing the conversation.

sarah steps onto the main floor, glancing behind her as if making sure the basement isn’t suddenly going to collapse after the mess she just cleaned up, only to immediately pause.

her eyes flicker between you and her dad, seated at the island, not avoiding each other, not silently pretending the other doesn’t exist.

she hesitates, like she’s unsure if she walked in at the wrong time or if she’s even in the right house. her brows furrow, her nose scrunches slightly.

“what’s going on?” her voice is like she’s caught onto something she wasn’t meant to see.

before you or ward can even think of an answer, the sound of the sliding door from the backyard shifts open, and rafe’s voice cuts in, casual and unaware. “hey, dad, i couldn’t find the—” he starts, stepping inside, but he slows his pace almost immediately when his eyes land on the scene in front of him.

his gaze flickers between you and ward, then to sarah, like maybe she’ll have some kind of explanation, but she’s just as clueless as he is. still, there’s something almost amused in her expression, like she’s already piecing things together faster than her brother.

rafe, on the other hand, looks at the two of you like this is some kind of elaborate prank. his lips part slightly, his head tilts, brows drawing together in that signature confused-cameron look.

ward, ever the composed one, is the first to break the silence. he leans back slightly, hands resting on the island as he shifts his attention to his kids. “we were just talking,” he says simply, though there’s an unmistakable ease to his voice that wasn’t there before.

sarah’s eyes narrow slightly, suspicious, but there’s a flicker of something impressed there too. rafe, still playing catch-up, shakes his head slightly, trying to process whatever the hell he just walked into.

before either of them can dig into it further, ward smoothly changes the subject. “what movie are you guys thinking for tonight?” he asks, his tone light, almost casual.

you barely have a moment to process the shift before he turns to you. “y/n, why don’t you help me with the snacks?”

it’s not a question, it’s an invitation. a surprising, unexpected invitation.

rafe reacts immediately, jerking his head back like he just got whiplash. “what?” he blurts out, pure disbelief coloring his tone.

your eyebrows shoot up, equally taken aback, but you catch the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at sarah’s lips, like she’s already reading into this moment and what it means.

still, you nod, pushing yourself up from the stool, hesitating only for a second before making your way around the counter to where ward stands. as you pass rafe, you send him a look, a silent, wide-eyed ‘oh my god’ look, and he just blinks at you, still visibly struggling to compute whatever the hell is happening.

ward, unfazed, reaches up into a cabinet, searching for something. “hey, sar, rafe,” he calls, his voice even. “can you two set up the movie and let rose and wheezie know to be downstairs in . . .” he pauses mid-sentence, then glances toward you as if waiting for confirmation on a time.

you shrug slightly, guestimating. “fifteen minutes?”

ward nods, turning back to his kids. “fifteen minutes,” he repeats, and with that, he resumes rummaging through the cabinet for the right bowls.

sarah takes a step back first, but not before glancing at rafe, her expression absolutely gloating. she doesn’t say anything, but the way she tilts her head, the way her brows lift slightly, it’s enough to tell him, this is happening.

rafe exhales sharply, shakes his head in disbelief, and finally turns toward the living room, muttering something under his breath about how this is going to take some getting used to.

and just like that, the dynamic shifts. for the first time since you’ve been here, something feels different. maybe even . . . right.

tags ── @v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @drewsephrry @avngrssckr @cali-888 @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @thereallifebambi @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @sgecorrow @rafesgiirl @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies @maybankslover @honeyluvsatj @darleneslane @alysaaaa444 @w4nnabeurs @thewrittenpodcast @watersquirtpewpewboomm @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @benbarneslut @illicit-affcirs @helo1281917 ++

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corroded-hellfire · 1 day ago

Note

i saw this tiktok and i was wondering if u could write reader who does this for eddie on valentine’s day?

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8Ykn9DA/

My deepest apologies that I didn’t get this done in time for Valentine’s Day. Pls blame the flu and pls enjoy this little blurb 💕

Words: 1.6k

“I have no idea what to get him.”

You sigh as you exit the bookstore into the mall atrium. There’s an open table near Orange Julius and you head in its direction. The legs of the chair scrape against the linoleum flooring as you pull it out and gracelessly fall into it. Max takes the seat across the table from you and gives you a thoroughly unimpressed look.

“You’re kidding me, right?” she asks. “You could hand him a Q-tip and he’d be thrilled. Eddie doesn’t give a shit about presents. But he’s completely over the moon for you.”

“I know.” Despite the whine in your tone, there’s a smile on your face. It still feels like you have to pinch yourself every time you think about how much Eddie loves you. “I just want to give him something meaningful. That he’ll truly like. What did you get Lucas?”

Max shrugs and inspects the nails on her right hand.

“Nothing yet. There’s still plenty of time between now and Valentine’s Day for him to piss me off. So I’ll probably end up getting him something that I want too, in case he’s an asshole and I decide to keep it.”

“You’re no help.” You slide down in your chair and run your hands over your face.

The competing smells off the food court waft over to you. As appealing as they’d usually be, you’re too stressed to be tempted by any of it. Despite Max’s claim that there’s plenty of time between now and Valentine’s Day, one week didn’t seem like a whole lot of time for you to find the perfect gift for your boyfriend. Nothing jumped out at you in the bookstore—except the books you know Eddie already has and loves. None of the clothes in these new fashionable stores had anything that Eddie would wear. That significantly narrows down the shopping options at Starcourt.

Your eyes scan over the stores that are visible from your seat at the table and your attention snags on Guitar Center. Without speaking a word to your friend, you push yourself out of the hard chair and head towards the store. Max follows along behind you, heaving a small sigh.

“Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?” Max asks as you look at the different electric guitars displayed high up on a wall.

“Not a clue.”

Max nods her head as she strums her fingers along the strings of an acoustic guitar at eye level.

“What if you made something for Eddie?” she asks.

“I thought about that,” you answer with a sigh. “I just don’t know what I’d–huh.”

The abrupt cut-off of your sentence catches Max’s attention and she attempts to follow your line of sight. She’s left confused though when she sees your gaze trained on a medium-sized bag of blue and green guitar picks.

“Um…” Max hums and slips her hands into the back pockets of her jeans when you never complete your thought. “Care to share with the class?”

You cock your head to the side as you look at the picks.

“Well, it’s just…” You take a few steps forward and grab the package from the shelf. “These kind of remind me of flower petals. What if there was a way I could…”

“Yes!” The redhead excitedly steps around you so that you’re speaking face-to-face. “You could use a wire as the stems.”

This is the first real idea you’ve had for a present for Eddie but…

“It’s not…dumb, is it? Like, childish to make this for him?”

“Childish? Are you kidding me?” Max’s eyebrows don’t look like they can raise any higher on her forehead. “Babe, our boyfriends are in a club where they play a fantasy game. With made-up magical characters. Do you remember what the last new character that Lucas came up with was named? Sir Shits-a-lot. And all the guys found it hilarious.”

“And he had the power to give everyone else diarrhea yeah…” You sigh and nod your head, remembering that very long week.

“Right,” Max says. “So, I think these homemade flowers are exquisitely elegant in comparison.”

With a nod of finality, you grip the picks tighter in your hand.

“Thanks, Lady Shits-a-lot.”

When Valentine’s Day arrives, you have the bouquet nicely tucked into a box, wrapped up with a red bow. Eddie’s van pulls into your driveway at 7:02am like clockwork, and you hop inside with your backpack and gift.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Eddie greets, his smile bright and his cheeks red from the cold outside.

“Happy Valentine's Day, Eds!” You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. It’s not good enough, apparently, as Eddie whines and chases your mouth with his own. With a soft chuckle, you press your lips to his and give him a proper kiss.

“Thank you,” he says pointedly. “And happy Valentine's Day to you, my love.”

You drop your backpack at your feet and settle the gift box in your lap. When you raise your head you see there’s a gift wrapped in red paper sitting on the dashboard between you and Eddie.

“Should we wait, or…?” He asks when he sees you spot the present. “I don’t know if you had some plan or idea or anything but I’m just really fucking excited to give you your present.”

“Screw plans,” you say and gently toss Eddie’s gift into his lap. “I’m excited too.”

“See? This is why we’re perfect together.” Your boyfriend winks, grabs your present off the dashboard, and hands it to you. “You go first.”

It’s impossible to get any traction on the wrapping paper while wearing your black mittens, so you tug them off and go at it again. The wrapping tears away to reveal a purple paperback book staring up at you, the cover dotted in imagery that you’ve come to know quite well. D20s and various other D&D symbols surround the title that’s in bold black letters: “Dungeons and Dates.”

“It’s a romancey kind of book, but the love interest is a Dungeon Master in his school’s D&D club,” Eddie says. You look over at him to see him grinning nervously. “It’s me!”

With a gentle chuckle, you lean over and press kisses all along his mouth.

“I love it. I can’t wait to read it.”

“Really?” Eddie doesn’t look completely sold.

“Yes,” you insist, picking the book up from your lap. “It’s about damn time someone wrote a love interest that’s almost as amazing as my boyfriend.”

Eddie’s cheeks turn a slightly darker shade of red, but this time it’s not from the weather.

“Okay, my turn,” he says.

Nimble fingers quickly undo the bow on the box, and before reaching to take the lid off, he slips the red ribbon beneath his curly locks and uses it to tie his hair into a low ponytail. You chuckle fondly as you reach out and stroke the bunched-up curls. The red definitely looks good in his dark hair.

Back to business, Eddie lifts the lid off the box and sets it down between the two of you. You study his face as he looks down at his present. It takes a few seconds for Eddie’s eyes to absorb what he’s seeing and his brain to figure out what it is.

“Holy shit.” Eddie reaches down and gently picks up the bouquet by its thick silver base stem. He turns it this way and that, the dim sunlight coming through the front windshield reflecting on the diverting branches of thin wire and the marbled blues and greens that make up the petals. “This is so fucking cool. Where did you get it?”

“I made it.”

Your words cause Eddie to take his eyes off his present for the first time. The look of shock on his face grows as he widens his eyes and his plump pink lips part.

“You…made this?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie looks back at the flowers, appreciating them in a whole new light as he tries to find how they were put together.

“How?” he asks.

“Just some wires, picks, and pliers,” you say with a shrug.

“Sweetheart, this is…incredible. Holy shit.”

His praise warms your cheeks and your heart.

“You really like them?”

Eddie glances over at you and his expression asks if you’re crazy.

“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever gotten. Thank you, baby. Thank you so much.”

You reach over and take his free hand in your own.

“You are very welcome.”

You just watch as Eddie keeps inspecting his present from every angle.

“We should get a vase and some water to put these in.” The quirk on one side of his mouth clues you in that he’s kidding around.

“Ah, yes,” you say with a sigh. “Just what they need: rust.”

Eddie laughs and brings your entwined hands up to his mouth to kiss along your knuckles.

“Think I can leave them in the van for the day? I’d hate for them to shrivel up and die.”

Now you roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s goofiness.

“I think they’ll survive,” you reply. “They’re pretty tough.”

“Or I can just bring them in and show off to everyone how much my girl spoils me. How goddamn lucky I am.”

You grin. “Will you make a grand display of showing them off? Say, by walking across cafeteria tables and making a proclamation for the entire room to hear?”

“Yeah, that sounds like me.” Eddie gives you a wink.

“How romantic,” you coo, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

He throws you another wink.

“Only the best for my Valentine.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie Munson fan fic #request

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littl3cloud · 2 days ago

Text

What's Left Behind

Pairing: Caitvi x reader

Description: After Jinx everything falls apart. Vi disappears, Caitlyn buries herself in her work, and you're left picking up the pieces even when there's nothing left to hold on to.

Warnings: MDNI, heavy angst, emotional neglect?, hurt no comfort

The smoke from the explosion curled and choked the air. Jinx was gone. She slipped away like she always did, leaving nothing but the wreckage, the remnants of a fight that seemed so far away now. The mission, the pursuit, it didn't matter.

You blink, trying to clear the haze swimming around your eyes. Through the veil of smoke, you could see Caitlyn's silhouette as she moved towards the ladder.

And there was Vi. She stood still, her body tense, fists clenched white. Her breaths were sharp, ragged, the sound of them slicing through the silence.

"I keep telling myself you're different. But you're not."

It felt like the world paused, just for a moment. Like the universe was holding its breath with you. You saw it clearly- The space between them had grown, an unspoken tension pulling them apart. The rift widened with every heartbeat, stretching further than you could fix.

"It's her blood in your veins."

Caitlyn hadn't even spared a glance back at Vi. She didn't even seem to care about the words that had just been thrown. You stood there, with your heart hammering in your chest, watching as Vi moved towards Caitlyn.

Just like that, the sound of Caitlyn's rifle hitting Vi rang out. You watched helplessly as Vi stumbled, her body curling in on itself as she fell to her knees. Your breath lodged in your throat as you watched everything come undone in seconds.

"Vi...are you okay?" Your voice came out soft not to scare her, like you were talking to a frightened child and not your girlfriend. But it didn't seem to matter. If she heard you she didn't act like it. "Vi please,"

Her body tensed. She looked at you for the first time, her eyes full of a fire you didn't recognize. Her voice came out sharp, pained, and full of something raw.

"You shouldn't be here."

You spoke again, voice shaking, desperate now. "Vi please- let me help-"

Vi cut you off, her words slicing through the air, laced with anger. "Go. I don't need you here. Just go with her." Her gaze flickered to Caitlyn, still heading up the ladder, and then back to you, her face twisted with betrayal.

Again, you moved closer, your hands reaching out to touch her. In an instant, she shoved you away like the touch burned her skin.

"Just fucking go."

You stood there for a long time, your chest tight, throat burning with the words you couldn't force out. Slowly, you took a step back, fighting the lump in your throat. You glanced at Vi again but she refused to meet your eyes. The rawness in her eyes was killing you. You fought every instinct you had to comfort her. To change her mind. But you knew there was no going back from this.

You couldn't stay.

With a heavy heart, you turned and walked away, forcing yourself to ignore Vi as she sobbed, the sound of her cries gnawing at you. Caitlyn didn't even acknowledge you when you got to the top. She was already gone, her back turned to you, her attention already consumed with the need to find Jinx again.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck in your throat. The silence between you had never felt more suffocating.

And so you walked in silence. The further you got from the wreckage the further you felt from Vi. Your chest split open. Months of pining and soft flirting between the three of you just for it to end like this. The chasm that opened was growing wider with each step.

Weeks passed. Days blurred together in the haze of Caitlyn drowning herself in her work and quiet moments that didn't seem to matter. The weight of everything that had been said lingered like a shadow in the corner of your mind. If Caitlyn had the same thoughts as you she never made it apparent.

She had barely said anything to you at all. Her silence was louder than any words could have been. It was the way she buried herself in her word every night, refusing to entertain how you begged her to come home. How she never asked how you were doing, never once trying to find comfort in you. Every conversation you tried to have with her fizzled out before it even began like she was already a million miles away before you said anything.

The small habitual glances you used to share, the subtle moments of acknowledgment became nonexistent. She stayed away from any room that had been tainted with the memories of you and Vi. That included your room.

You'd wake up and she'd already be gone hours before you. It was like the space between you all had been carved out with a knife, and each day, Caitlyn's absence cut deeper.

You tried to fill the silence with your thoughts, but they always led back to Vi. You hadn't seen her since that day, never heard about her either. It was like she had disappeared completely. And the longing to find her gnawed at you constantly. You knew she wouldn't welcome it, welcome you. Not now, not after what happened.

Caitlyn never mentioned Vi. She never brought her up, not even on accident. She didn't seem to notice her absence at all. You couldn't tell if it was out of self-preservation or simply because it no longer mattered to her, but the distance between you felt insurmountable as if there was no way to bridge it without shattering what remained.

You imagined a hundred different scenarios throughout the relationship, wondering how this would end- if it would end. But nothing had prepared you for the hollow feeling as you realized everything was gone. Both of your lovers haunted you like ghosts in the manor.

The walk up to your room felt heavier than it ever had. It felt like a stranger's room now. Everything that was once familiar was gone, like a memory that was never quite real.

Your hand reached for your drawer, pulling out the one shared thing you couldn't bring yourself to pack away. A photo between the three of you, a cruel reminder of what was lost.

The sound of Caitlyn walking through the door interrupted you. You didn't have the energy to face her, or the strength to try anymore. It had all been so one-sided for so long.

"I'm leaving," you said, the words finally slipping out. "I can't do this anymore Cait."

There was no response from her. No movement. Nothing. She didn't even look at you, her eyes staying fixed on something beyond you.

"Cait,"

"Then go." Her voice was flat, dismissive of you. "You can't expect me to drop everything for this. Jinx is still out there and that's all that matters."

Her words landed like a slap as the air in the room started to freeze. You stood there waiting for something - an apology, a change in her tone, regret. But there was nothing.

"I don't need this."

The muttered words barely reached your ears. She was already moving, leaving the room to swallow you whole. There was no sound of her footsteps turning back. No calls for you to wait.

The door clicked shut behind her with a finality that made your heart drop. You were left in the empty room, the echo of Caitlyn's absence reminding you of everything you had lost.

#caitvi x reader #caitvi x you #angst #caitvi angst #vi x reader #vi x you #caitlyn x reader #arcane

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lohotine · 3 days ago

Text

``Oh, You Liar!``

Multi Char Fic x AFAB! Reader (NSFW)

Ft: Shadow Milk, Pure Vanilla, Affogato

CW: Cookiefucking(?) Cockwarming, oral, fingering, blowjob

°•《 AN: oh dear, did I miss valentines?》•°

MINORS DNI! NSFW FIC BELOW CUT

Shadow Milk Cookie;

oh, how you hated him! you knew he was mean, but you never thought it was to such an extent...

not letting you move, even though he was so close to your g-spot. he said he'd let you once he was finished going over some paperwork, but... he's taking forever! it's just not fair.

your shift your thigh ever so slightly. (you've been good for how long now? don't you deserve a little friction?)

the jester notices it instsntly and clicks his tongue in response. "ah ah ah- didn't I tell you to sit still?" he looks at you with lidded eyes, a faint expression of some sort of twisted amusment present through them.

"shadow milk.. you're s'mean to me... you're taking a long time on purpose-"

he grins at you, pressing his forehead to yours. "it'll only take longer if you keep distracting me like this... c'mon, it'll be over soon. just behave for a little while longer, yeah?"

hah! a little while longer my ass! knowing him, he'd probably continue stalling until your breaking point... the thought made you pout.

"what's that look for?" he asked, only to be met with your stubborn silence.

how unfortunate... he prides himself on getting reactions out of you, you know?

he presses a hot kiss to your collar bone, lightly sucking on the dough.

just what did he think he was doing? was he expecting you to sit still during this as well?

"mmph- shadow milk--" you grind your hips. (you just couldn't help yourself! not when you've been stuffed full for nearly an hour now...)

he places a hand on your knee, preventing any further movement. "that wasn't permission to move."

you can't help the whine that escapes your lips. "you're not being fair..."

he scoffs at the statement. didn't you know that he wasn't a fair man? "punishments aren't supposed to be fair. now stop moving, 'kay? i promise i'll be done soon..."

Pure Vanilla

"you... ah- said you were inexperienced!" you muster through hot breaths, hair sticking to your flushed face.

he spread your already soaking folds with two fingers, thumb resting on your bud. "mmm, but I am..."

one of your legs rests on top of his shoulder. he presses a kiss to your thigh, slowly moving closer to the spot where you actually want him to be.

(he sure was taking his time... there's no way he didn't know what he was doing to you!)

he places a kiss right on your cunt, and you can feel his hot breath at your entrance. still, he doesn't give you what you want.

"hurry up already..."

pure vanilla can't help but chuckle. "so impatient..." though, he obliges. he quickly darts his tongue in and out of your clit; its only purpose to get you even more on edge.

and before you can even say anything else, he pumped both fingers in, setting a steady pace. oh- and the way his tongue circled around your clit;

once... twice.. fuck! it drove you insane.

your mouth fell slack, unholy moans falling from your lips. tufts of his golden hair became tangled in your fingers as you grasped it.

of course, he didn't mind. it was only a sign that he was doing his job right. "ngh- pure vanilla-" you managed to choke out between moans.

he looked up at you, mouth never leaving your pussy. "mmhm?" the sound only worked as extra stimulation as it vibrated throughout your body.

what were you even asking for again? you couldn't even remember over how good the blonde was licking you up...

oh, it didn't even matter anyway! so long as he kept sucking on your cunt, you couldn't care less.

Affogato

having you here between his legs... doe eyes looking up at him-

it turned him on much more than he'd like to admit. your tongue licking the slit of his already leaking tip...

he sucked in the cold air through gritted teeth. he wasn't supposed to be getting so worked up over this, but the intoxicating feeling of your mouth on him was a pleasure he found much too enticing.

"you feel so fucking good, baby," he'd say, more labored breaths spilling from his lips.

how strange... the royal advisor was never a person to use such foul language. how did you manage to pull that from him?

you took more of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length and wrapping your hand around what couldn't fit into your mouth.

he grinded his shoe against your clothed entrance, trying to give himself at least some edge in this interaction...

he swore that he held more power over you, and he desperately wanted to prove that fact to be true.

"come on, don't you want me to touch you? don't you want my fucking hands on you?"

he became so desperate like this... so much for holding power over you! oh well, he was always a bit of a liar anyway.

each flick of your tongue sent another shiver up his spine. god, how were you so good at that?

he grabbed a fist-full of your hair and pulled you further onto his dick, gaining a gag from you.

oh how he loved the tears that picked the corners of your eyes!

though, he loved your mouth on him so much more...

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luvsicktyun · 22 hours ago

Note

can I get something about sugardaddy heeseung spoiling his sugarbaby with smut please

diamond's are a girls best friend l.hs

synopsis ⤑ sugar daddy Heeseung showing his sugar baby just how much she means to him...

pairings ⤑ sugar daddy!heeseung x sugar baby!reader word count ⤑ 746

warnings ⤑ smut mdni, power imbalance, (no age gap he's just rich), corruption kink (kinda), daddy kink, pwop essentially, short drabble. enhypen masterlist & more ⤑ here.

“How’s my sweet girl..” Your legs were pushed to your chest, an otherwise uncomfortable position turned incredibly erotic. Heeseung’s hand making an indent in the plushness of your thighs as he helped to steady your trembling legs.

He was spoiling you, much like he always did. Marking his territory and taking you every which way he wanted. and you let him, because you loved the attention and craved the reward of it all.

The jewels, the money, the trips and the gifts. You loved it. The lavish lifestyle and all its rewards. You would never deny such simple pleasure, such simply thrills. Heeseung was a simple man. Give him what he wanted and you’d get anything money could buy. It helped that the sex was good, like mind numbingly good. He knew your body like the back of his hand and the pleasure coursing through your veins right now was a testament to that.

“Fuck.” You squeaked. Your legs bent to your chest as Heeseung hovered about you his hips smacking against yours harshly. “I said..” Heeseung heaved. His voice rough and gravely “How’s my sweet girl?”

“Good.” You moaned clenching around his cock, your mind numb with pleasure.

“Bad girl.” Heeseung tsked pulling all the way out of you. You whined the empty feeling almost unbearable. “You know what to call me.”

“I’m sorry daddy..” You moaned. Tears pricked at your eyes the frustration building up like a dam ready to burst. You needed him, badly. You would beg if you had to. “Please..please.”

“Please what baby?” Heeseung tilts his head at you. Taunting you, teasing you. He would have you in a puddle on the floor, all he had to do was ask. “What do you need.”

“Please..” Your voice was weak. Barely able to utter much of a sentence “Please..i need you daddy.”

“Okay baby.” Heeseung grab at your legs again spreading them apart, rubbing up and down on your thighs carefully. He lined himself at your entrance tapping the tip against your sensitive nub before sliding back in slowly. His thrusts were shallow, still toying with your need for him. You whined out his name begging for him to go harder, faster. Anything to snap the coil twisting in your belly. To quench the thirst you had for him.

His fingers curled around the pearls necklace on your neck twirling the beads in his nimble fingers. His hips snapped against your hips hard but steady. Enough to push your body slightly up the bed and cause a tremble in your legs. “You look so pretty baby..” Heeseung sighed continuing to toy with the pearls on your neck. “Look so good with my present on your neck. letting everyone know you’re mine.” His hips smacked against yours harshly causing a squeak to fall from your lips.

“Oh my god.” You mumbled reaching your hand up to his forearms for leverage. “So good..daddy..so good.”

“That’s a good girl..fuck.” Heeseung’s pace quickened. His hips now smashing into yours over and over again with quick precision. Your body felt alive, the heat in your belly bubbling readying to boil over and explode. Your wonton moans fell from your lips like a mantra overcome with the pleasure of Heeseung nestled deep inside of you.

“Does my baby deserve my cum?” Heeseung asked, reaching a hand up to cup at your supple breast. “How much do you deserve it?”

“So-so much.” You hiccup “Please daddy, i want your cum.” Your hips stuttered and rose to meet his. Your craving to cum strong as he continued his assault on your most sensitive part. You mumbled smalls whines and pleas for him to give you what you wanted, to spoil you with his spend.

“I’m close-“ He hissed raising a hand and harshly smacking your breast, a gasp left your lips. Yours legs trembled as the band deep inside you snapped sending you hurdling towards your orgasm. The white hot seer of pleasure coursed through you like an electric shock. Heeseung’s hands yanked at the pearls around your neck sending them flying across the room around you.

You didn’t care much. Too occupied with Heeseung’s hips snapping then stilling against yours as he came deep inside of you. His grunts and groans taking up space in the otherwise quiet of his bedroom.

He fought to catch his breath. Sliding out of you carefully hissing at the feeling. “You did so good.” He praised. “I think you deserve an award, no?”

taglist. (★) @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @filmnings , @dawngyu , @hyukascampfire , @saejinniestar , @notevenheretbh1 , @hwanghyunjinismybae

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bcksbarnes · 1 day ago

Text

the sun will set for you

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky barnes is wrapped up in your arms, wanting you to be his

word count: 1.3K

“buck...” you groan as the two of you lay in bed, his hand running down your spine as the two of you roll around in the mattress. laughs pass both of your lips as you feel him pull you in closer, his fingers slipping down to your thigh pressing into your skin.

“what...” he groans back mockingly, his nose pressed against the base of your neck as he peppered soft kisses. a shiver runs up your spine as you groan again, shaking your head. you can feel the smile on his face as he presses another kiss to your neck, his metal arm pushing you so that your back is against the mattress looking up at him.

neither of you knew when it happened, one day you were friends, the next you were taking turns falling into each others beds – the nights filled with heavy breathing and the sounds of sweet nothings. the shift was so sudden it could have knocked the earth off its axis.

but, neither of you wanted to stop. you were drawn to each other like magnets and even when you tried to keep it simple, to play it cool, it never worked the way you wanted it to. you always fell back into the same routine. it’s how you ended up in his bed now.

“i’m tired.” you say softly, his head tilting up slightly as his eyes catch yours. you feel him press one more kiss to your neck before he picks his head up to be level with yours. he fixes the pillow behind you, fluffing it up before he lays next to you, his fingers resting on the small of your back.

you watch him carefully, grazing over his face as you take in his features. his eyes are tired, tortured, but when he looks at you there’s no doubt in your mind that this – whatever this is – is real. his stubble has gotten a bit long and there’s a scar on his cheek that he’s never told you the story to. but when you look at bucky barnes all you can see is a perfect man.

“what’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, his voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

“nothing.” your voice is hoarse, almost giving yourself away. as much fun as the two of you had and as desperately as you knew this was something neither of you had the guts to say it out loud.

“liar.” his voice is playful as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips, your hand snaking up to the back of his neck to hold him there, kissing him with the same amount of pressure. the sound of your lips locking and moving fills the room. your skin burns where his fingers trace patterns on your lower back, and you have to hold yourself from deepening it. you know very well that this could go from 0 to 100 very quickly.

it takes a moment for him to pull away, his eyes closed as he nudges your nose with his. your heart is pounding in your chest with everything that you want to say, everything you’re feeling.

“tell me.” he insists, his forehead resting against yours.

“nothing, buck.” you also insist. but after a few moments of silence, you continue. “i’m just thinking about us, about this. that’s all.”

“so not nothing.” his eyes open to catch your gaze, his fingers running up and down your sides now. he was warm, his bare body somehow both incredibly hard and muscly, but also soft, like a pillow.

“not nothing.” you admit. “i mean ... i’m just ... sometimes i can’t pinpoint how or why this started. you know?”

“maybe because we’re two friends who are extremely horny and needed something to take the edge off.” he says, though the look in the eyes tells you he doesn’t believe that. “or because we both know there’s something neither of us are saying.”

your breath hitches in your throat and you’re confident you know where this conversation is going but something about it feels ... wrong? feels ... like it’s not real? maybe because the two of you had danced around the conversation for so long, pretending that this longing, this yearning, was just for fun.

“be mine.”

his voice cuts through the tension like a knife, though it’s so soft you’re not sure at first if you’ve heard him correctly.

“what?” you whisper, your hand on the back of his neck pulling him in closer, needing to hear him say the words once more.

“be mine.” he says it again as if it’s the easiest thing he’s ever said, as if it’s as easy as breathing. everything that’s been holding the two of you from taking the leap rushes through your mind in that moment. you feel him lean forward and press his lips against yours again. “please?”

you hum softly, your hands raking through his long hair, pushing strands out of his face.

“what if it doesn’t work out?” you whisper between kisses.

“we’ll figure it out.” he whispers back, his kisses becoming more insistent.

“what if ...” you mumble against his lips. “you end up hating me?”

“i could never hate you.” his words are muffled as he trails his lips down to your jaw, trying to show you how much you mean to him.

“what if - ...” but before you could speak again he presses his hand over your mouth.

“no more what if’s, princess.” bucky says, his eyes narrowed as he looks up at you. “whatever happens will happen. if things don’t work out we’ll figure it out,” he reiterates. “if we fight, we’ll work through it. if i end up hating you ...” he trails off for a moment. “then something extremely weird is going on and you should take me to the doctor.”

your heart is beating out of your chest, a small smile on your lips as his hand is still pressed against your mouth. he smiles up at you, his hand trailing down your jaw and behind your head, entangling in your hair. he tugs on it softly, forcing your head to tilt up a bit. your name leaves his lips and you’re pretty sure it’s the most heavenly sound on this earth.

“i’m not going to ask again.” though his voice is gruff, it’s filled with a lot of emotion, everything that he wants to say.

“what if ...” you start again, a smirk crawling on your lips. “i’m kidding.” bucky’s eyebrows, which were furrowed, relaxed as he realizes you were just teasing, playfully tugging at your hair again.

there’s a lot going on in your head at that moment, you’re trying to piece together all the feelings that you have for him but there is a voice in the back of your head screaming at you to just give him an answer – to tell him.

“and if i say yes?” you whispers, your finger on the scar where his metal arm meets his flesh, feeling the raised skin beneath your touch. “then what?”

bucky shivers slightly at the touch, his eyes closing softly, his eyelash grazing his cheek. he’s never had someone take care of him the way you do, someone who treated him so delicately like he was the one going to break and not the one capable of doing the breaking. you always looked at him and saw the man he wanted to be, the man he truly wished he could become.

“then ...” he whispers. “you’ll be mine.”

“simple as that?”

“simple as that.”

“and if i say no?”

“please don’t say no.”

the look on his face is pleading, like he’s never asked this question before in his life and that he never thinks he will again.

“bucky ...” you whisper, his eyes closing softly. you can hear his heart thumping in his chest, disappointed by your lack of response. your hand presses to the side of his cheek, your lips brushing against his but not fully kissing him – not yet. “i’ve always been yours.”

his eyes shoot open to look at you, searching your features for anything that might tell him that this is just a dream, but when he finds none he leans forward and presses his lips against yours. hungry. passionate. he pushes you back down into the mattress again, and the two of you intertwine filling the night with the same amount of gasps and bated breaths that have always happened between the two of you, but knowing now that everything is different.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes reader #one shot #mine #100

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lilacxquartz · 3 days ago

Text

your hunger is mine (only mine);

vampire!hunter suguru geto x vampire f!reader

plot: tasked with killing you, vampire hunter suguru is driven mad with infatuation instead — themes: vampire au, slight plot, blood feeding, possessive behaviour, yandere, smut, p i v — w.c: 4k+ • masterlist • on ao3

For Suguru Geto, every day was the same.

He would wake up, hunt, eat, then sleep.

This was simply just the life he knew; from the moment the first light filtered in, he’d rise to sharpen his blades, dip the silver into holy water, and rehearse his prayers to pardon the dead. Suguru was what was expected of him, a man driven by a sense of duty that he felt he owed to the world—operating as though on clockwork—closing his eyes only when the cycle finished.

Only to repeat it all again.

For him, this was normal. Just like every other hunter that walked the world, he too, led a lonely life, married instead to the prospect of chasing whatever it was that lurked in the shadows, all so that those living in the settlements could have a semblance of peace. He’d push on, simply because he had to.

Though, then something changed. He woke up just like usual, he hunted, and that much stayed the same. But he didn’t eat, and he certainly couldn’t sleep—not when he was so captivated by what he had set out to destroy.

(You.)

~~~

The mission in itself was a simple enough affair; it was yet another tired night, guided by the cold glow of the moon. Missions often led him to blighted manors, which were once thriving residences, that now smelled like death itself. After a while of storming in and clearing such places though, they all started to blur and even look the same. This home wasn’t anything special.

Swiftly, methodically, Suguru purged the interior of a once noble family and its workers who scurried away like fleeting rats upon entry. Typically, vampires would rest in groups, huddled in a small room for both security, but also if they were simply dormant. Everything was going as planned, but then, he heard something deep into the heart of the house that made him pause.

A woman crying. Softly. Devastatingly.

As a result, he couldn’t help but investigate further, even while knowing that it could all be a trap. Sometimes, variations, as they were called, could make their way into a regular nest. If this was as he suspected, then he would have to turn in his base mission as it was, but something about those deeply mesmerising wails prevented him from turning around and leaving—despite every fiber of his being telling him otherwise—to investigate instead.

Slowly, carefully, Suguru tentatively extended his hand and pushed a dusty old door inside, his eyes falling over a pile of broken mirrors, one of which was held up by you, crying in the corner. Streaks of claw marks that peeled against the rotten walls marked up the area, leaving an unsavoury taste in his mouth. All of his senses told him that he stumbled upon something outside of his pay grade here, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. This, otherwise, was different, after all. You didn’t run when confronted, and much like every other variation that he had come across in his career, you didn’t lunge for his throat either.

Perhaps it was a bad idea then, but Suguru took upon the decision to approach you. His reflexes were fast, so he didn’t quite concern himself with you potentially catching him off guard, and as you turned, he once again hesitated. Your face just looked so… human? So fevered with peril and genuine anguish, as if ravaged by a sickness rather than a lapse of fading humanity.

For the first time in years, he felt something that he hadn’t felt for a while for these creatures. What was it again? Pity? Empathy? Whatever it was, it had been a feeling lost to him for a while, sending him back to the days of his first hunt, when he was torn between what made someone human and what didn’t.

All of the signs pointed to you being one of those things, so with that struggle in mind, he tried to push past his initial thoughts and try at least to finish the job. Suguru, as if locked in a trance, reached for his blades to strike you down, but then you did something that he hadn’t seen in all of his years on the job that made him freeze—that made his eyes grow wide—that made the blade clang onto the floor.

You… spoke.

Your voice, so human, so soft, whimpered out a stammered line, laced with genuine fear, “H-help me.”

Suguru gulped, allowing his eyes to drift to you.

In all of his years, he had never seen something like this. To him at least, these creatures—these things—these monsters, were anything but human, and yet, here you were; capable of communication. Initially, he tried to justify his reaction as a fear response, his hand desperately searching the floor for his fallen weapon, ready to banish you for good, but then you repeated yourself.

“Help.”

“Help me.”

“Don’t do this.”

For some reason, this was what it took to break him. Being a hunter was a lonely job; he had no idea if this was similar to humans technically, but he had also been isolated since the day of his training. Hunters could not operate in groups, let alone pairings. These abominations, also, would never go as far as to show fear, to beg for their lives, so he had potentially stumbled upon something new here that would be a waste if killed—at least in his mind.

His voice was tight as he tried to navigate this problem, grunting out a curt, “How?” when he finally succumbed to a reply. His eyes were narrowed, portraying an unreadable glare to conceal what he was truly thinking. If you were capable of speech, after all, then who was to say that you wouldn’t be capable of understanding too?

You tried to answer, letting the handheld mirror shatter on the ground like the rest. You turned to him, with your eyes wide and glassy, strained with pain and perhaps, also, a hint of hysteria. “I-I had recently been turned,” you falsely revealed, shooting out a clawed hand to clasp over his clothed arm, “I�� I think I have to feed, but I really don’t want to…”

That wasn’t the whole truth for you, and you knew it. You had been here for more time than you knew, it’s just that you were still in touch with your old self. You could, technically, settle just like all of the others similar to you in the settlements, but there was something deeper that you craved. Your hunger was almost parasitic, and if luck would have it, you led your potential host right into your trap.

Suguru—the hunter before you—continued to regard you warily all the same, as though studying you to determine just what sort of personal threat it was that he was dealing with. He took note of how twitchy you were, betraying erratic undertones to your otherwise deceptively calm (for a vampire) demeanour. Something about you wasn’t entirely right and you were hiding something. You could have been someone recently turned, but you also could have been one of those new-age variations, that were even more difficult to detect.

Those types of things were always changing, after all, that’s something you both knew without needing to communicate it. The older, and even middle generations of the variations were capable of at least some kind of intelligence, which was what led to vampires huddling into groups rather than individually roaming. Perhaps the latest strain had adapted to become more human, evolving to potentially lure in hunters like himself into manipulated sympathy to spare him.

If that was it—he understood—every creature that occupied this cursed earth, for better or for worse, was just trying to survive. He couldn’t fault you for that, but also, at the same time, he could. Vampires and humans couldn’t coexist, at least, that’s what had been told for as long as he knew.

Still, despite being a hunter, he was still human; much against his better judgment, curiosity won out.

“How recently ago were you turned?” he asked, chancing a theory.

Predictably, your face went blank. You didn’t know the answer. It couldn’t have been that recent.

Suguru’s chest tightened as a result, a wave of unease spreading through his body. You were a variation that was capable of not only communication and understanding but playing a particular role that didn’t result in immediate violence. As a result, his mind briefly flashed over the possibility of turning you in for enough gold to last a lifetime, but for some reason, the thought didn’t linger. His violet gaze locked onto yours again, attempting to gauge something in particular from you. For a vampire to turn someone, there had to be an incubation period; variations happened from hastily turned occurrences, since for the last century or so, bite attacks happened more out of desperation than to feed.

Humans, as far as he understood, were simply just a delicacy—vampires were indeed still a threat, but, they didn’t exclusively target them. Just like how humans hunted to feast upon wild game or kept livestock, it wasn’t that unheard of for a hunter to report something similar back.

Therefore, you couldn’t have been starved—surely not—especially when the forest was so abundant with animals that passed through the trees.

His mind went back to the potential coin he could cash in, just for a brief moment, though. Suguru in theory, could cash you in and finally live within the settlements in peace. He could finally find someone special and adopt a peaceful life, but something at the same time begged for him to reconsider. Not only were you a pretty thing, but you were capable of holding back. You had an ethereal sort of look that was absent in humans, which would likely catch the eye of a brothel that would try and pedal your worth for as long as they could. Such instances had occurred in the past, too, with enough restraints in place.

Another possibility was that a research institution could try and get their hands on you, belonging to one of those laboratories that loomed in the dead center of the settlements. This too, would be a waste, because they would likely try and dissect you, subjecting your cadaver to autospies that wouldn’t necessarily mean anything until they’ve had at least a dozen few like you.

Suguru sighed.

What a predicament.

It wasn’t something that he could particularly control, but he wanted to be selfish with this. He wanted to study you for himself, as a hunter, his base job be damned. If you were truly self-aware enough, then he could potentially utilise this to favour his benefit. Vampires, after all, could read their own signatures, no matter where they were, whereas hunters had to go off based on intuition.

Calmly, Suguru drew up the sleeve of his shirt, unbuttoning the cuff so that he could offer you better reach, presenting you with a choice.

“How much would you need?” he asked, unable to quite believe that this was something he was truly considering.

“Not too much,” you murmured out, your response immediate, “just… just enough to take the edge off.”

Suguru nodded. “And, will I turn if I let you feed?”

You shook your head. “No, no… if I can avoid the veins, then you should be fine. It’s if the venom enters the bloodstream, that you will turn.”

(Wait. Venom? That was new information.)

Suguru’s eyes drifted down to meet with your lips, observing the pale blue tint to their complexion. You were as starved as you claimed, but you were also holding back. For what? He had given you plenty of opportunities to catch him at a vulnerable position, so you could have indeed lunged and doomed him at any given moment, but you didn’t. You also seemed to be aware of how turning worked, and what was needed to be done. All of this shared hesitation led him to believe that this could potentially result in a mutually beneficial outcome.

Just as you were about to take his offer, too, you held back, suddenly blurting out a panicked spiel of words, your fists tightened and tears streamed down your cheeks, your voice spiked with anguish and terror, “I-I hate what I am, you know,” you breathlessly confessed, “I hate myself—what I am—but I can’t just… let go of my life. I was like you before. Normal. But, you understand, don’t you? I can’t just stop living – not when it’s all I have left.”

Suguru sighed as he listened to your tortured words. Realistically, he knew that he was potentially giving into something that he shouldn’t, especially given his profession. He knew that he should have killed you to be done with it, earning his keep from your dragged-out corpse left to evaporate in the sun, or at best, left you alone to be dealt with at the hands of another hunter.

But he stayed.

So, whatever happened next, was on him.

“I’m going to help you,” he assured, steeling himself knowing that this was going to hurt, “but only because I’m curious, not because I care about you. Now, you can do this in two ways. You can take what I give you and listen to me, or you can flee and pray that the next hunter you come across, is even half as kind as me.”

He waited around for your response, but you didn’t respond with anything immediate. Your eyes were locked onto the contours of his inviting flesh, drawing your lips closer to his offering. Suguru’s breath hitched, expecting you to lunge, but you were excruciatingly slow. In a way, he supposed that the display was sensual, which made sense, knowing that vampires were supposed to be alluring to reel in the trust of their food. For a moment, he considered that he was a victim of such a thing; tricked into being fed upon by a new variation, who played into being more human than they truly were—

—Suguru hissed in pain.

The bite finally connected.

A sharp, pulsating shock traveled through his system, focusing right on his arm. He grunted as he tried to breathe away the pain, seething through his teeth as he tanked the sensation. Suguru’s jaw clenched as you sank your fangs into his aching skin; turning his head away before whipping it back to focus on you. A new feeling radiated just seconds after, letting him fall slack and relax against the wall. Just as quickly as the pain rose—pleasure did too, erasing all of the hurt—replacing it with something warmer.

Without even thinking about it, he allowed his free hand to drift and wrap around your scalp next, aiming to secure you into place while you fed. On occasion, you would blink up and catch his gaze, almost as if to confirm that his focus was planted directly on you. He paused at the sight, feeling something else within him stir, perhaps desire. His blood was being actively stolen, so through the dizzying rush of you feeding upon his very life essence, he couldn’t quite tell where the rest of his blood was rushing.

One thing was abundantly clear though.

He liked this.

Suguru released any tension that he ever had, leaning even further back as he led you to feed. Your soft lips felt like silk against his skin, feeding from him in teasingly slow gulps. For a moment, he lost himself in the blissful allure, understanding that there was no such human within the settlements that he could ever find to replicate the surreal reality of what he was experiencing right now. It was as if you had unlocked an addiction for him, leading him down a darker path when he should have been following the light—awakening something possessive within him—doomed to chase the newfound drug he sampled.

A thought crossed his mind, though.

You needed him to live, didn’t you?

If you were starved before, then he was your lifeline; your source of food—

—It was as swiftly over as it began, though, leading him to choke out a pained grunt as you pulled away.

You kept your promise, not bleeding him dry, not turning him—but in the heat of the moment—he wished for you to not stop. Suguru bit back a scoff, realising that had you potentially not kept true to your word, then he might have let you empty him for all that he was worth.

Sanguine red gloss coated your lips, dripping crimson down your chin. You stared at him with the very same lingering hunger he now desperately craved, but held back on advancing further. You were being just as careful as he was, getting him dependent to being around you, just as you felt around him. You tilted your head as you observed him, taking note of how his once murderous eyes melted into something betraying vulnerability instead, as if a chasm had been opened in his core, forming a void deep within.

You were sated, but he was not.

You studied him, indeed, as he forced himself to relax his hand and let go of your scalp, plucking his arm away. His body tensed as it came down from its painful high, a flush of rouge spreading across his cheeks as he tried to sit upright to conceal his arousal. His legs trembled, and his breath shuddered; the venom didn’t have to be exchanged, for your plan worked despite it, you secured a hunter again to protect your worth.

Suguru’s mind spiraled in the meantime, finding this situation abundantly frustrating. The hunt had changed, but for some reason, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Though he couldn’t help but feel that he was tricked somehow, fearing that now you had fed yourself, you might attempt to flee. He was damned if he was going to let you go, though, feeling the darker feeling return. The thought of you feeding upon someone else was upsetting, and he couldn’t for whatever reason, let you do that.

He drove himself mad for the rest of the night, unable to sleep. Such a longing need to be your only food source persisted to ravage his mind as you both recovered. Suguru pulled you in closer, tightening his arms around you. He looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, overcome with a rising hunger that was uglier than your own; where you lusted for mere sustenance, Suguru craved you on your own.

And as the morning finally arrived, Suguru’s eyes snapped open just as he felt himself doze off, revealing you attempting to sneak away. He whipped out his arms, wrapping his fingers tight around your wrists before you could truly flee. His reflexes were uncannily sharp, honed by years of hunting your very own kind. Suguru held onto you like a man crazed, pulling you flush against his chest, forcing his limbs to entangle with his own.

“No,” he simply stated, his breath running hot against your ear, “you will stay.”

Your lips parted as you thought of what to reply; in all of your years of manipulating hunters, they had never once been so possessive. For once, you felt as though you were as equally in danger as he must have felt when he first laid eyes upon you. You tried to relax regardless, trying to thaw your rigid state into the heat of his warm body, but the lingering unease remained all the same.

“You’re going to need only me from now on,” Suguru emphasised, “only me—just me.”

You tried to speak with him, only to be cut off, “I—”

“—you’ll let me sate your hunger, won’t you?” he asked, tracing his fingertips along your icy skin, “you won’t take your fill from anyone else.”

You fed him a look as a result, attempting to secure a promise within his crazed awakening. You were telling the truth, at least partially from before. No vampire enjoyed their life, so who were you to deny, that you perhaps wanted someone alive to make you feel if not, equally the same? To be treasured as a life, to be wanted, lusted for, just as one would with a living, breathing thing.

“I’ll carry on your burden,” he continued to promise, his voice a tone softer now, “you will not bear it alone.”

Suguru meant every bit of vowed promise that left his tongue and thoughts, too, his mind swirling with infatuation winning over logic, such a decision that would soon cling to his very state of being. As the nights came and went, you would on every other occasion ask to feed and Suguru would let you, the intense desire to let another sort of hunger claim him, claim you growing stronger with each passing hour.

He sat back all the same, yet this time, his mind was in a frenzied, almost feral state. He savoured the sensation of your fangs nestled in his flesh, of your lips brushing against him. He would cradle you, reeling you in tight against the core of his body, holding onto you with such want that it was completely maddening. Suguru quickly became a man, crazed, refusing to hunt for his keep, instead sustaining himself with a hunt for his lifeline, to feed you.

(What was his job again?)

(Who was he again?)

He watched you lap up his blood, just like he was used to by now, but tonight in particular, he let his arousal show and as if spurred on from your lack of complaint, he reluctantly pulled back from you, averting your blood-lusted gaze to meet with his own. He pulled you up, allowing your lips to crash against his—kissing—tasting himself with his tongue, driving him into unhinged heights of realisation alone.

He wanted you more than anything else.

Suguru’s fingernails dug into your hips, leaving behind bloodied half-moon scratches into your skin as he drew you in even closer. A part of him knew that he should be pulling away before this threatened to spiral even further, but you weren’t fighting him back on this either.

You wanted this too.

You were admittedly turned on, you couldn’t even deny it. You lost yourself in the same way that he had been losing himself from the very moment he laid eyes on you. Your fangs sank into his lips, grazing at the tender wet flesh; your fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt too, as if to tether yourself to him in rising need.

A sharp sting pulsed through him as a result, a bead of blood that became mixed in the mutual kiss shared. Suguru shuddered, as a result, his violet eyes dark with something raw, perhaps even consuming.

“You’re…” he trailed off, unable to keep his eyes off of you, staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, “you’re the most dangerous thing I have ever come across.”

Realistically, he knew should have been afraid of what was about to happen—but he wasn’t—neither were you. The two of you might as well have both been too far gone. And so when you leaned in again, feeding him that same sultry look again, Suguru understood one thing in particular; he had to let you take him under because in the heat of the moment, he wanted to drown.

You straddled him in a rising frenzy, making quick work of the fabric that had both concealed your obvious arousal. Suguru, who was maddeningly hard, sought out your slick warmth with pained intensity. And as soon as he was able to do so, he plunged into you with frenzied ease, shuddering at the intoxicating intensity. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his arms pulled you in even closer and when he opened them again, he stared at you with a wild, close to hysterical light, finally understanding the true extent of his obsession with you.

“Fuck, you feel… so… good,” he grunted as he felt your hips roll with the buck of his rhythm, his words rutting out in tune with his thrusted impact.

You parted your lips away from him at the same time, seeking out his neck instead, knowing that you also shouldn’t, but when lost in a haze of lust, who were you too, if not a creature driven by pure instinct? Your teeth sank in, hitting his pulse point, feeding off of him as he impaled your heat, lost in a world of your own.

Suguru threw his head back with a strangled moan, feeling your teeth sink into his flesh, not quite fighting you back either. This sort of new pain was freshly intense with no pleasurable recovery, but he didn’t care, too lost in his possessive stupor to bring himself to stop you. Instead, he pushed you in even closer; entangling himself around your scalp, shuddering out gasps of fevered anguish from every little pull of your lips, from each swallow of his blood.

“Shit,” he gasped out, unable to quite control his reactions anymore. He drove himself into you with manic fervour, slamming himself with a ferocity that bordered on violence as he drowned in rising waves of dark ecstasy pulsing through his veins. His pace was relentless, almost punishing and painful, but he was too lost in the crazed pursuit of passion to even care.

Indeed, Suguru, with you, had managed to surrender himself utterly and completely to you, unable to even fight back against his life force slowly fading away with each passing draw of your lips. He held you tight, encouraging you to feed off of him deeper, encouraging you to take more as he pumped himself into you with heedless abandon; his own hips giving out, leaving you to guide his way to meet with the release he so desperately craved

Suguru held on, lulled into a tranquilised, if even overjoyed (at last) state, muttering out merely whispered instances of pleading mantras, “don’t stop,” was one you heard, “give yourself t’me,” was another; a man completely obsessed with keeping you right were you were.

You finished feeding soon though, needing him to stick around, even if the damage potentially done to his bloodstream was irreversible. Feeling himself come back too, Suguru held on tight against your hips, crashing himself into your cunt with a hurried frenzy, letting slip of a ragged gasp as he finally felt you come undone, with his sought-after release following suit just as quick. He continued to hold on, feeling himself pulse and twitch and empty into your battered sex; draining all of the pent-up tension, all of his anger, of his never-once-appointed passion, deep into your now-tight, spent core.

You fell over him as a result, finally relaxing as you melted atop his body. Suguru couldn’t help but shudder at the intensity of the afterglow, not even feeling angry for the changes he felt. He lost himself, after all, from the very moment he gave you a chance; so this was on him, not you. If not slightly dazed, he managed to lift his head and look at you, his eyes glazed and bloodshot, exhausted with possessive satisfaction.

Suguru kept you plugged up for the time being, unrelenting on his hold over you as if letting go of you would mean the end of the world. His breathing refused to calm and his thoughts raced with obsessive mania. The high lingered too, never once subsiding, not like before. Even as his vision blurred and faded to black, he knew he was going to be fine, because the look you gave him back was just as possessive in return.

You were his as much as he was yours and neither of you would allow another to state one another. You belonged to each other now. You were beyond what could have been codependent, perhaps even working as one.

A parasite you were, indeed, he not only carried your burden, but even in his potentially changed form, he would seek to still sustain you.

You watched on as he sighed, as his eyes finally fluttered shut, as his body sank further into a dreamless sleep, with his hold on you never once relaxing.

You followed suit, just as soon, content that you had found a solution for your hunger.

While Suguru finally had found a solution to his madness.

Perhaps this would be his undoing. Maybe even yours too.

(But maybe that was just meant to be.)

188 notes · View notes

backtothefanfiction · 2 days ago

Note

Can we please have more Joaquin and Stark!reader I begggggg

Your wish is my command ✨

3am

Joaquin Torres x Stark!reader | grumpy x sunshine

Summary: when you wake up from another dream about your Dad, you take Joaquin up on that offer of a phone call.

Word Count: 2.5k+

Warnings: grief, hurt/comfort, fluff

A/N: currently sitting with some grief in my personal life and needed somewhere to channel it so this got bumped up above my other Joaquin wips. It’s now 2am where I am and delirium is setting in so expect possible mistakes to have fallen through the cracks but should read just fine. Hope it’s okay. Enjoy.

[tried to tag who I could from notes/reblogs on the last. if you want to be added to the list in future please say so in writing 🥰]

You felt groggy as you made your way down the stairs of the cabin. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep still in your clothes, you just wanted to watch an episode of some trashy reality show rerun and check out after a heavy day, but here you were. The wooden steps creaked beneath your feet as you made your way towards the dim light in the dining room.

You weren’t surprised he was still up, especially after the day you had all had. Having the Captain America turn up on your doorstep hadn’t been on the itinerary for any of you. Especially not your Dad’s.

“What time is it?” he asked when you made your way back in from getting a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Like 2am or something?” you responded, as you took a glance at the hologram hovering above the dining table. He sighed. “You any closer to cracking it?” you asked as he lifted his tablet to his eyes to further analyse the information of the latest failed test result.

“No,” he sighed deeply. “I mean at this point I have to just give up and accept the science, right?” he asked.

You stood and pondered again, looking at the shape of the configuration hanging above his head. “What if you configured it like a möbius strip?” you asked, just throwing out the suggestion, an old science paper coming to the back of your mind in a moment that felt like divine inspiration.

“Tried that.” he said.

You paused for a second before saying, “Did you try it inverted?”

Tony looked at you sceptically for a second but figured there was no harm in trying. “Alright F.R.I.D.A.Y, put it in, run it back.” he said, pushing a couple buttons on the screen to confirm the input.

You both waited in silence as the ai did its thing and the test began to run. “I mean the likelihood of this working is less than-“

“Model rendered.” FRIDAY replied and Tony’s nervous ramblings quickly fell short.

“Well shit!” he exclaimed. He always said you had more brains at 20 years old than he ever did.

“Shit.” A little voice repeated behind you.

As you turned your head to see, where you knew your little sister to be sitting on the bottom step watching you both, everything began to fade and change, the inside of the Avengers compound coming into focus around you instead.

You had been shut out of the room, your dad not wanting you anywhere near the stones when they attempted to bring everyone back, just in case something went wrong. You were sat on the stairs looking at your phone when the shields started to pull back. Somehow when you looked out the window things felt different. There were birds now flying in to fill the trees and- you were knocked forward by a blast.

The dream shifted again. You had a vague recollection of pulling yourself from rubble, your nano tech suit having immobilised around you in mid air and protected you from any real damage in the blast. You now stood on the battlefield in that suit, doing all you could to fight the alien mutts that seemed to keep coming.

You stood your ground as Pepper flew in over head and the two of you worked together to kill as many of the creatures as possible. There were explosions and heroes everywhere you turned, but you had no clue where your Dad was, not until it was too late.

Suddenly everything disappeared. The mutt you were fighting turned to dust. And as you looked out on all the destruction, you finally spotted him, but it was no use. You began to run, tried to get to him, but the ground moved like sand at your feet, slipping away underneath you and slowing you down.

“No,” you gritted between your teeth in both denial and defiance. “No.” you chanted again. “No. NOO!”

You woke with a start, your skin clammy and chest heaving. You forced your eyes to look around at your room in the cabin, trying to make out features in the dark and ground yourself, but it just made things worse as the start of your dream flashed back into your mind. His memory forever left haunting you in these walls. You should have moved out. Should have moved on, but you didn’t want to leave Pepper on her own with Morgan when she was still so young.

You turned your head to look at the time on the digital clock next to the bed. 3am. It was always 3am. You had tried to look into it online and see if there was any significance, but all you found was a whole load of hooky business about ghosts and the other side being thinner at 3am. Whatever that meant.

You lifted your knees beneath the sheets and leant your elbows on them as you rubbed away the sleep from your eyes. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep again any time soon anyway, the memory of his face when he passed cemented on the back of your eyelids. Instead you got up, padding your way down the hall and downstairs, much like you did that night you had solved the key to time travel together. But it was different now, there was no light guiding your way and he would never be sat at the dining table working late on a project ever again.

Once you made it downstairs, you didn’t stop. Instead you carried on straight out the back door and over to the shed. You didn’t even bother putting shoes on, tiny twigs and dirt getting trapped between your toes and grounding you as you walked. The light felt blinding at first when you switched it on, but also familiar as you took up your seat at the workbench.

You pulled the helmet back across the table to sit in front of you. It was one of his old ones. There was a crack across the eye and scuffs along the sides. You couldn’t help but raise it to your head, your forehead resting against the cool metal. “5 years wasn’t enough.” you whispered to him, even though you knew he wasn’t there to hear you. As you thought on him and all the memories you had shared in just a short time, your lip began to wobble and tears began to well in your eyes, your chest aching with the weight of a love you had no place to put anymore.

As you slowly lowered the helmet back onto the table, you wiped at the tears with one hand, feeling silly for still lingering on a dead man you’d barely had time to truly know. It should have been easier by now. But alas, it wasn’t. Tony Stark had come into your life at a time you had nothing and been the Father you didn’t even realise you needed. To think your mother had tried to keep you away from him. If only you’d had more time.

You took in a deep breath as you tried to push those thoughts and feelings away. To clear your head enough to get stuck back into work. To continue his legacy. To complete the things he never had time to finish. He should have had so much more time. There were so many things he was supposed to do. Your lip wobbled again as you fought with your emotions. All the things in your life you had expected him to be there for, now that he was in your life. Your college graduation. The first time you brought a boy home. Walking you down the aisle. Helping you raise your own kids.

The weight of your grief became crippling as it hit you like a tidal wave. You were so deep now you didn’t know how to get out of it. You clutched at your chest, your hand sweeping items off the workbench with you as you crumpled to the floor and sobbed. You felt so alone and lost and it felt like you were drowning. Tears ran freely from your eyes and you had no idea how to stop them.

As you steadied your hand on the ground, you became vaguely aware of a piece of paper under your fingertips. It was only small, a little ripped and crumpled, but you knew what it was. Your lifeline and you knew you had to pull it.

Your eyes were bleary and it took you a full minute to type in the number and hit call, but you finally did it. The sound of the dial tone as it tried to connect the call felt like lead in your bones as you waited for him to pick up.

One ring. Two. Three. Four- “Hello?”

“Joaquin?” Your voice shook down the phone.

“Y/N?” He asked, his voice husky with sleep.

“I woke you, I’m sorry,” you said between sniffs.

“No, no, no, no, no.” He quickly silenced you, his tone both urgent yet soft and he picked up on your distress through the phone. “I can be there in 20 minutes.” he said without even having to question anything and you heard him down the line already shuffling and moving around as he got himself up.

“No, don’t, I just-“ you tried to say between tears, your voice hoarse from misuse and crying.

“I’m coming. I’m on my way. Give me 20 minutes.”

True to his word he was there before you knew it. You hadn’t brought yourself to move, just curled yourself up under the table and continued to cry into your knees, your pyjama bottoms soaking up your tears as you quietly wept. You didn’t know how he was going to get there so fast given how far away he lived, but you should have known he would use the suit.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything or move as you heard him open the shed door and make his way inside? “Y/N?” He quietly called out to you, not wanting to wake up Morgan or Pepper in the main house. When you couldn’t bring yourself to reply, he followed the sounds of your sniffs and quiet sobs instead.

He placed his helmet down on top of the table before he crouched down to your level to check you over. You took one quiet look at him over the top of your knees and you saw his whole body soften as he took you in and knew you were safe.

He didn’t try and rush you to talk as he climbed under the bench to sit next to you. You both sat in silence as he rested his arms on his knees at first, but eventually he reached out to place an arm around your back and fold you into his side.

He still had the suit on and it felt so uncomfortable to lean against, but you oddly found it a grounding distraction and you quickly melted into his side.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” he said into the top of your head and that’s how you stayed until you were ready to move again.

“Thank you for coming.” you said to him as you finally pushed yourself away from his chest another 30 minutes later when your tears had dried up.

“I told you I’m here for you.” he said with a nonchalant smile, “Night or day, rain or shine.” he reiterated his words from the other night.

“I’m sorry I waited until now to call you.” you said, pushing hair away from your cheeks, where your drying tears had fused the strands to your skins.

“Eh, it’s okay.” Joaquin said as he reached out with his fingertips to help you. “You wake up from that dream about your Dad again?” he asked after a pause and you simply nodded, not ready to put words to what had happened just yet.

“But can we not talk about it.” You pleaded, “I mean, not yet anyway.” you quickly added, taking in the look of concern on his face.

He slowly nodded, “Yeah… Okay.” he replied.

Neither one of you wanted to speak too loud, the quiet of the middle of the night encouraging softness and serenity as the rest of the world slept on.

“I’m glad you called.” he said, his fingers reaching out to linger just shy of your cheek, wanting to touch you, but not wanting to cross any barriers without your say so. You tilted your head slightly to welcome the touch and let him know it was okay. “I’ve been thinking about you since the other night.” he confided.

“Really?” you asked sceptically with one eyebrow raised. “I hope it wasn’t all in concern.” you said more confidently, your defensive wall and demeanor slowly starting to emerge as you distanced yourself from your emotion and your grief, desperate for a distraction to bury them with.

He rolled his eyes at you, his hand lowering to rest on your knee instead of your cheek as you turned your body towards him. His hand lifted again slightly, a confused look flashing across his face at the wet, tear stained, feeling of your pyjamas, but he quickly pushed it away and resettled his hand there once more.

“Actually-“ he said, his eyes hazy and soft as he looked at you, his thumb running gently over your knee, “I’ve been thinking about that red dress.”

Your brows furrowed. “What red dress?” you asked confused.

“You know, the one with all the little flowers on you were wearing when I first met you.”

You were stunned silent for a moment. “You remember what I was wearing when we first met?”

He turned his head from you for a second as he blushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I just, I didn’t think-“

“No,” you said softly, a smile playing on your lips as you tried to put him at ease, your fingers reaching out for him, encouraging him not to hide from you. “I think it’s sweet. I just never realised you cared that much to notice. I mean, I didn’t even remember that’s what I was wearing that day when you…” your voice trailed off as you got lost in his adoring gaze. “I’m sorry,” you finally said again, trying to shake the haze from your brain and focus once again. “You were saying you were thinking about my dress. What about it?”

“Well I was just- it’s gonna sound silly,” he scoffed for a second.

“No,” you reassured him again, your hand curving encouragingly around his forearm.

“It’s just, I was just, picturing you wearing it- out on a date… with me,” he added, as if that wasn’t clear already.

“A date?” you questioned softly, your head leaning ever closer to his.

“Yeah,” he nodded softly. “A date.”

“Where?” you asked.

“There’s this cute little Mexican restaurant near where I live.” he said.

“When?” You added quickly.

“Whenever you want.” he replied.

“What about Friday night?” you asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, okay. Friday night.”

“Pick me up at 7?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

And that was it. That was how it all started.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

@findingpeterpan @karmaswitch @mischiefmanaged71 @magikdarkholme @deskofninak @quakeismyhero

#joaquín torres #joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #Joaquin Torres x stark!reader #falcon #Tony stark #iron man #mcu x stark!reader #fluffy #hurt comfort

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monstera-modd · 2 days ago

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DCxDP Crossover #2

The Space Worm

After a battle with a particularly tough ghost, Danny seeks refuge among the stars, hoping that his obsession will aid in his healing process. As he floats through the dazzling lights and passes by moons and planets, Danny finally finds the perfect spot! He trills and chirps in delight as he wraps himself around the metal structure, soothing his throbbing core. Closing his eyes, he indulges in the much-needed rest that Jazz always encourages him to take.

_________________

Constantine is going to kill someone (himself preferably).

Bleary-eyed, he reaches for his phone on the nightstand.

"Bat, if the world isn't on fire, I swear I'll curse you ten ways to Sunday!"

The call goes silent—par for the usual with Batman and phone calls.

"There's a massive spectral entity encircling the Watchtower."

John curses the day he ever got involved with their shit in the first place.

"...I'm on my way."

________________________

"This is awesome!"

Batman grunts as Flash smashes his face against the glass in the viewing dock, trying to catch a glimpse of the glowing worm. ("What? It has no legs, Batman—thus, a worm!")

Batman's glare hardens. "Constantine is on his way. Until then, no one makes loud noises that could draw the creature's attention to us."

"Did he say what it could be, perhaps?" Wonder Woman asks. She had been sitting at the end of the table but now stands near Flash, looking out into space.

A ping on one of the screens announces Constantine’s arrival. Superman, pacing silently, flies over and lands just as the doors slide open, revealing Constantine, who looks like he got dragged through Hell and back—twice. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse meant to banish hangovers.

“Alright,” he sighs, stepping into the room. “I’m here. Where is the bloody emergency?”

Batman, ever the efficient one, gestures toward the massive viewing window. Constantine follows the motion, and for the first time, his usual deadpan expression falters. His cigarette almost falls from his lips.

"Bloody hell," he mutters.

“Right?!" Flash chimes in. "It’s a worm! A big, glowing, space worm!"

Constantine doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he steps closer to the glass, eyes narrowing. The creature is massive, coiled protectively around part of the Watchtower’s exterior. A strange, rhythmic hum reverberates through the hull, though it’s unclear if it’s coming from the worm or just an auditory illusion from its sheer size.

“Looks spectral,” Constantine finally says, rubbing his chin. “But… it’s not actin’ like a typical ghost. It’s just… resting.”

Wonder Woman folds her arms. “Could it be intelligent?”

“Most ghosts are,” Constantine mutters. “Even the dumb ones.”

Batman’s voice cuts in. “If it’s intelligent, we need to figure out its intentions before taking action.”

Superman frowns, his X-ray vision scanning the creature’s form. “There’s something… odd about it. I don’t sense hostility, but there’s definitely something going on with its heart.”

Constantine stiffens. “Its core?”

Superman nods. “It has a fluctuating energy source. Almost like…” He hesitates, then looks at Constantine. “Almost like a ghost that’s injured.”

That gets everyone’s attention.

"Injured?" Flash repeats. "So, what? This thing came here to take a nap?"

Constantine curses again, louder this time. “You bunch of blokes just let a massive, injured ghost curl up around your base without knowin’ what it is?”

“I tried to scan it,” Batman says, voice tight. “It’s unlike any spectral entity we’ve encountered before.”

Constantine sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right, fine. Let’s do this the old-fashioned way.”

He raises a hand, fingers curling as he murmurs in Latin. A faint golden light pulses from his fingertips, stretching toward the glass. For a moment, nothing happens. Then—

A tremor shakes the Watchtower.

The worm stirs.

A low, warbling trill reverberates through the station, and suddenly, a pair of massive, glowing green eyes snap open.

Constantine stumbles back. “Ah, shit.”

The entire room tenses. Batman reaches for his belt. Superman prepares to engage.

But before anyone can act—

The worm blinks. Its form ripples, shifting, distorting, and then—

A human shape peels away from the massive ghostly coils, floating weightlessly in the vacuum of space.

A boy.

White hair, black jumpsuit, glowing green eyes filled with exhaustion and confusion. He clutches his chest as if it pains him, his breathing heavy.

Then, through the comms, a weak but familiar voice crackles through the static.

“Uh… hey?” The boy—Danny Phantom—gives a sheepish grin. “So… this isn’t where I parked my spaceship.”

The room is dead silent.

Flash is the first to speak.

“Holy crap. The worm talks.”

Constantine groans. "I hate this job."

-Danny the green worm

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dpxdc #danny is a worm #justice league #john constantine #batman #i love flash in this he is me and I am him #John Constantine needs a break and a week long nap #that's also all Danny wanted before some guy in red starting screaming like a kid at the zoo

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cosmicmunsonwrites · 2 days ago

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i dream about you and i

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — reader is on period, fluff

summary — rafe is proving himself to you that he intends to be better.

authors note — once again, this can def be read as a standalone but its apart of my mean!rafe series. it can be found in my rafe cameron masterlist under au’s. please send some cutesy requests, i love them sm.

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

you were currently laid out in your shared bed with a fluffy, weighted blanket clutched close to your chest to try to ease some of the pain you were feeling. you’d gotten your period thankfully but it was more painful than ever. you never really got cramps so experiencing them for the first time now was like literal hell. you had hot tears running down your cheeks because of it.

the obnoxious ringtone of your phone rang through the silence and it almost made you want to die at the thought of rolling over to pick it up. you groaned and reached behind blindly to grab it. rafe’s name flashed across the screen. “hello?” you answered, voice shaking.

“hey, what’s wrong? you cryin’?” his voice was soft and gentle and full of concern. “somethin’ happen?”

you sniffled and wiped your cheeks with your sleeve but it was no use as another wave of pain hit you and a choked sob escaped your lips. “no. ‘m fine. jus’ got my period,” you half-lied. you weren’t even sure why because he definitely could hear you.

he sighed to himself, knowing you were going to take the stubborn route. “well i’m on the way home now, sweetheart. i jus’ got done with work. you want me to pick anything up? food? whatever you need.”

“no,” you said quickly before covering your mouth to hide another cry. “i don’t need anything,” you managed to whimper out before clamping your hand over the lower half of your face again.

there was a beat of silence. “ok, i’ll be home soon then,” he replied. “see you in a bit. i love you.”

you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself. “i love you too,” you mumbled before hanging up. your stomach began to hurt even more and a headache began to form due to the crying.

it had only been about 20 minutes before you heard the sound of rafe’s car pull into the driveway of your shared home. the front door opened and closed quietly almost as if he was trying to sneak in but unfortunately for him, kiwi began to go crazy out of excitement.

he gently quieted her down and made his way up the stairs to where you were tucked in the bed under the covers. when he walked in, he had a red box tied neatly with a bow, a basket full of your favorite sweets and self care items resting on top of it, and a bouquet of roses in the other hand.

you quickly wiped your tears and sat up to get a better look at him, kiwi jumping up onto the bed and laying by your lap. “rafe,” you said softly. “what is all this?”

“you said you jus’ got your period and you sounded upset,” he explained while handing you your gifts and flowers. “so i got you a couple things to make you feel better.”

your lip began to tremble as you admired the basket and box of chocolate covered strawberries in your lap along with the flowers in your hands. “when did you even have the time to do all this?”

he shrugged it off as if it weren’t even that big of a deal. but it was to you and he knew that. you’d mentioned once or twice how much the little things mattered to you. “stopped at the store on the way home,” he said, a smile on his face as he watched you admire your roses. “got some food for you too. i know you’re in pain but you still gotta eat, angel. even if its just a few bites so you can take somethin’ for the pain.”

more tears began to fall at how sweet he was. he’d grown so much over the last month and you were so proud at how he’d finally stepped up and began acting right. you just really hoped it wasn’t temporary.

“don’t cry, sweet girl,” he whispered softly as he cradled your cheeks and wiped them with his thumbs. “c’mon, lets go downstairs ‘nd watch a movie or something. i still got the food down there too.”

you groaned and leaned back against the wooden headboard. you weren’t sure you’d even make it with the pain you were feeling. “i don’t wanna walk all the way down there,” you whined in hopes he’d just come lay with you in bed.

he smiled to himself at how cute you looked. he quickly looped an arm under your back and the other under your knees, lifting you up bridal style with complete ease. “let’s go kiwi. downstairs,” he told your dog. she immediately jumped off the bed and led the way down the steps.

rafe walked through the kitchen, allowing you to catch site of the bag from your favorite restaurant. your heart fluttered at the thought of him remembering considering you only mentioned it once. it was too expensive to have often in your opinion.

he softly set you down on the couch and placed a big, fluffy blanket over you. “you wanna eat now or later?” he asked, brushing your hair past your ears to get a better look at your face.

“later,” you stated quietly. “i’m not really hungry right now.”

he nodded and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “i’ll be right back, ok? i jus’ gotta change really quick,” he said, his face only inches from yours. he kissed you once more then stood on his feet and handed you the remote. “put somethin’ on.”

you could hear him quickly jog upstairs while you mindlessly scrolled through netflix until something caught your eye. you settled on a random movie in the top 10’s just as he came back, now in nothing but black sweatpants and white socks.

he moved the blanket off of you a moment and pushed your legs apart just enough for him to squeeze between them and lay on top of you with his head on your chest, listening to the calming thump of your heartbeat before throwing the blanket over the two of you again.

the weight and warmth of his was extremely comfortable and it made the pressure in your stomach ease up a little bit. one of your hands came up to play with his hair while the other rested on his back.

“you need anythin’ princess?” he asked one last time, voice slightly muffled against your chest as he watched whatever you put on.

you hummed and shook you head. “just this,” you replied surely.

his hands slipped underneath your back to wrap around you and pull you impossibly close. in this moment, you were sure you could stay here forever.

#gracie writes rafe cameron 🌺#obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #outer banks

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thewritetofreespeech · 1 day ago

Note

Hiii! May i request a fem!reader x alucard where alucard happend to isekai into the modern universe and reader helps him, but he also ends up falling in love with her?

“Do you miss your old world?”

“I’m not really sure how to answer that question.” Alucard replied as he looked out across the night sky with [Y/N]. Pondering the implications of the ask.

When he first arrive in her world, through a magical portal or some divine intervention, he had been overwhelmed by it. His father had machines of electrical energy but nothing like this. Everything was bright. Everything was loud. People were in mass but it also seemed that vampires were too; finally doing what the vampire Messiah had long hoped to achieve in ‘conquering the night’. Who needed an endless dark when the glow of neon would draw the humans out like moths to a flame, and technology let you have anything you wanted at your fingertips from a little lighted box. Who needed an army of thrall when there was Doordash now?

“ ‘Miss’ I don’t think is the word. Even before we met, I had seen the world shift so much over time. A year a blink. A century to wipe what was missed completely away.” The jump to here was a bit of a shock for Alucard, but he adjusted quickly. With [Y/N]’s help.

She had taken him in when that was objectively foolish and helped him come about in this new world. Taught him things. Showed him how to act to be less conspicuous. Although some of his ‘old world’ habits refused to die down, but at least people perceived that as eccentric rather than insane.

“I don’t know. I think I would like it. The dresses. The old architecture.”

“I assure you, shitting in a bucket once will dissuade your rose tint on the ‘old world’.” Alucard reasoned as he closed his book and came up beside [Y/N].

“What about the magic?” She asked.

“There is magic here.” He reasoned. People of this time just refused to see it. The magic of invention. Modern medicine. Clean water that came from just a flick of a tap. Iron giants that flew through the air. And yes, even indoor plumbing. “The old magic may be gone, but the world has adapted in its absence. It’s one of the reasons I enjoy being here. And, the old world does not have you.” Alucard leaned in to give [Y/N] a kiss. His favorite part of this new world. “Shall we order in and watch that new show on that Netflix you were talking about?”

“Yes please!”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#castlevania #castlevania scenarios #castlevania imagine #castlevania alucard #alucard castlevania #alucard x reader #castlevania alucard x reader #castlevania x reader #imagine #scenarios #castlevania imagines #adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes

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sabos-husband · 2 days ago

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★ Waiting, Waiting

Trafalgar Law x Reader ★

Dressrosa Spoilers!! ~ Heart Pirate!Reader ~ Gender Neutral ~ Fluff to Angst

From across the Polar Tang's kitchen, you throw your head back and laugh. The sound is riveting, but the sight is intoxicating.

Your hand is posed over your mouth, shoulders shaking with mirth, lips are pulled tight over your smile. A smile so bright he just wants to kiss—

Law walks face first into a cabinet's open door.

For the past two months, you and Law have been... something. You've been a Heart Pirate for years, but he, in a brilliant display of his emotional constipation, only allowed himself to realize the depth of how he felt for you within the past six months.

Somehow, you must've noticed this.

He knows this because exactly two months ago you stomped up to him, cheeks flushed with inebriated confidence, and asked him if he would like to get another drink with you.

(The exact details afterwards don't matter. He can barely remember them anyways, with how drunk he also was.)

All that matters is that you two are something. You offer him a smile every time your paths cross, treat him with enough fondness to make his heart stop, and kiss him after the lights have gone out.

But you and Law are not dating. You're not together.

So, yeah. Now you and him are just... something.

He can hear Bepo freak out while your laughter spikes. Red-faced and flustered, Law's planning to do something—his options range from trying to Room away or killing everyone and then himself—before you're standing in front of him, closing the kitchen cabinet.

"You okay there Captain?" You say with a smile. "I think the door's got you beat here."

Law can feel his face getting red for a completely different reason now. He ducks his head to hide his eyes behind his hat. He opens his mouth to let a retort fall out, but he sees your feet shuffle past him and he closes it again. He'll speak to you another time.

Thank the seas it's only you and Bepo awake. Law collects his morning coffee (and a riceball at Bepo's behest) and retreats to his office. He doesn't catch the way your eyes linger on his back.

If he did, he was ignoring it.

"Captain," you call suddenly. You snicker at the way Law jumps. While he just glares at you, he doesn't kick you out, so you let yourself into his office. "You got a minute?"

Law sighs, rubbing his eyes. He pushed himself away from his desk. "Doesn't matter if I say no. What is it?"

You frown with your hands behind your back. "Don't be an asshole. I got you a gift!"

Looking expectant, Law stands up. His wordless reaction makes you step closer. You tilt your head. "It's a secret though."

"It's my gift."

"I haven't given it to you yet!"

Law raises an eyebrow. He holds out his hand, palm up. He can't deny his curiosity is piqued at your pause; hesitation and you don't belong together in his head. He steps forward, closing the distance. You don't meet his eye.

Cautiously, once you've drawn up the courage, you place the gift in his grasp.

It's wrapped, Law muses to no one but himself. The crisp seams and cute bow suggests you had it wrapped when you first got it—the paper's too unfamiliar and the work is too professional for it to have been done in the Tang. He glances up.

Still, you refuse to meet your captain's eye. "Well? Are you gonna open it?"

Law takes a moment to observe you. The shift in your demeanor is a gift itself; seeing the way you care about how he feels? No matter what's under the paper, he'll be satisfied.

That said, he can't deny his curiosity. Slicing the tape with his nail, Law methodically unwraps the gift until the paper falls away to reveal the brightly-colored box. He recognizes it immediately.

It's a Sora action figure. Its paint job is crisp and the joints move smoothly—he knows this because he has two, one in and one out of its box.

(This one is his new favorite.)

You look up at him, nodding your head towards the gift. "Well?" You ask nervously. "You like it?"

You don't seem to know about that Law already has this one. Not that you would know, considering he tries his best to hide his collection almost flawlessly every time his crew (you) has a reason to step inside his room.

Try as he might, he can't hide the smile that makes its home on his face. He turns around, walks towards his desk, and opens the box to extract the figurine. You follow curiously. You trip over your own feet when you see Law pose Sora to sit at the edge of his desk. It's so cute.

Too much. It's all too much. You smile as you leave and he sits and nothing gets done for the rest of the day.

(Law's attention keeps getting drawn to the figure on his desk. When he thinks of it, he thinks of you. He snatches up the figurine and tucks it away in a drawer to his left.)

It's snowing outside the island you're about to dock and you've never been more excited. The sub's been stuffy and the crew's been getting antsy—petty squabbles threaten to blow up if they don't get outside sooner or later. It's what pushes Law to observe the winter island, grit his teeth, and declare they're surfacing for a supply run.

You feel like a child on a holiday morning running around the Polar Tank—Penguin and Shachi are bickering playfully as they swap winter jackets. Bepo's checking and double (and triple) checking the sub's course, the poor mink's ramped up on excitement and anxiety. Ikkaku lightly shoves you out of your stupor with a smile. Jean Bart appears behind you, a hand on your shoulder. It always makes you grin when you think of how flawlessly the former captain fit into the crew.

"What's up?" You ask curiously.

That's how the rest of your preparation time gets eaten up—someone can't find their coat or someone needs help checking what's needed.

Bepo declaring the sub's surfacing is what finally frees you. With minutes until breaking surface, you're scrambling to find everything you need.

"I wonder if the captain's gonna come with us," you say idly as you shove a sweater over your head. Shachi and Penguin share a look.

"Captain doesn't usually go on islands with the crew when it's snowing 'round this time of year," Shachi says. You expect him to keep talking, indulging in gossip as he's wont to do, but he turns back to the rest of the crew to immerse himself in the bustle. You look at Penguin, hoping for hints of details.

"Bad memories," Penguin says back. He peels off before you can speak, muttering to Bepo about coming back to the sub early.

You don't ask anything, but inside, you're confused. You've seen Law go into snow storms by himself before. And wasn't he from the North Blue?

You almost begin to wonder if it's the crew that makes him worry with the snow, but then Law's voice cuts through the sub, calling the crew to attention, and your thoughts fade away.

It's when you've got one foot out the sub that you see your captain again.

Law's tortured stare grinds your racing mind to a halt. He can't look at you; his hand, clasped over your wrist, tightens its hold. His eyes are stuck watching the falling, falling snow.

His fingers slide down, slip into your hand, and squeeze. You squeeze back.

Your hands raise—slowly, carefully, like you're something he can't afford to break—together. His lips brush against your knuckles, too light to be a kiss but too present to be anything but.

"Come back safe."

Law drops your hand and turns back. He retreats back into the Tang. The wind had just begun to nip his ears, turning them a pretty pink.

(You can't even think about the snow for the rest of the day. Your hand is so, so warm.)

You tossed and turned for weeks before you actually decided to do something about it.

"We have to talk."

Law looks up at you from over the medical documents in his hands. His hat is off to the side, his hair is all mussed, and it breaks your heart. He raises an eyebrow, but doesn't put the papers down. "We do?"

"Yeah."

Pursing his lips, your captain gestures to the seats in front of him. You don't hesitate to sit down. You glance at the edge of his desk, frown, then look back at him. It makes him set the papers down.

"What is it?"

"It's... about us, Law." He freezes as you barrel forward. "I can't- I just can't keep doing this."

He can barely piece together a calm facade. "Then what do you want to do?"

"I don't know!" You throw your hands in the air. "I just," you say, rubbing your face, "can't do this."

You think of the night at the bar often. Your memory peters off near the end—near the part you wish desperately you could remember—but you mull over it often. You think yourself in circles, thinking if there was any way you could've changed what you'd done to make it so it didn't end up here.

Law stands up, and you're almost afraid he's gonna bolt, but then he walks over to you. He sits beside you with a stony expression.

You almost laugh. He must've felt it too, because talking with a desk between you both felt more like captain and crewmate, rather than...

Well, rather than whatever you two are. That's the reason you're here anyways, isn't it?

"I don't not like you," you clarify quickly. The stone cracks. You reach forward, gentle hand on his knee, and tilt your head. "I... just don't know if this is what you want."

He stares back. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do."

Law looks away, because really, he does. He sits back. He's got his arms folded over his chest like it could protect him any more than looking away from you could. "Then... what about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I didn't... want... then I wouldn't be here. Isn't that enough?"

You take your hand back to rub your face. That's the crux of it, isn't it? Is this enough for you?

It isn't.

"It isn't," you say out loud.

When Law looks back at you, there are tears clouding your pretty eyes. In a panic, he reaches out to you. The space between you closes instantly as you meet him halfway, holding him tight.

Seas, this is the problem. You mourn your breaking heart. It's too much—this is too much—and all you crave is more.

The suffocating silence drags on until you pull back, hiding your eyes as you look down. Even as you cling onto Law, it feels like there’s miles between you both.

“So,” you finally say, "what was it?”

“...What?”

Even as you wipe them away, the tears won’t stop. “What about me makes it so easy to ignore? T-To ignore what we have?"

Law winces. “That’s not—”

“—I mean really,” you sniffle, barreling forward, “it can’t be that easy to not want me.. Can it? No- You’ve gotta have- have something else that makes it this easy.”

Law swallows. Clearly his silence is the wrong answer because your face falls. You try to push him back. "Is there?"

"It's not like that," the doctor tries to say, but the words escape him right when he tries to grab them.

Law's a fool.

What would he say? If he's going to take down Doflamingo, and he will, there's a chance he may not live to see you again.

It's what he thinks about every time he sees you.

"What do you want from me?" He asks instead. If you didn't know him so well—if you didn't spend so often poring over each of his words, dissecting them for their meaning—you'd miss his desperation.

Your eyes trail. Law's eyes are skittish, glancing back and forth from you. His cheeks are growing gaunt and he seems to be avoiding everyone these days. Dark ink stands out against his tan skin; the letters on his fingers are impossible to miss.

For a moment, you look past Law. Ever since he told the crew about his plans for Punk Hazard, Law's been different. Colder. Like the stone-tough walls he'd built for himself were strengthened by the weight of the world. Law had been carrying so much now. His back bowed under the weight of the world—your very own Atlas.

No—not yours.

Something gnaws at you, whispering that the shadow over his eyes was something you could never ease.

You reach forward to gently take Law's hand. You didn't realize... but he should've known how you felt. You press a kiss against his knuckles.

Law yanks his hand back like it burned. You don't comment. The tattoos almost swallow the back of his hand, yet the circle in the middle looks like stigmata. Like he plans for his own crucifixion. What would it take for Law to lay down his own cross, to toss it away and rest his eyes? Would he do it now already?

The air is heavy with words you were too fearful to say. You blink away your tears and suck in a deep breath. You were sure Law heard them anyways, but now... But now—

"All I've wanted," you say, "and all I want now is you. All of you."

It's quiet.

You grit your teeth as he stares at you with wide, searching eyes. Your declaration—your confession—lingers in the air until Law finds what he's looking for in your gaze.

He stands up, puts on his hat, and walks out the room.

Silence fills the vacuum he leaves behind.

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guiltyasdave · 1 day ago

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all those shadows

chapter 5 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.3k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 36), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, nightmares, implied death of characters, grief, the angst is once again angsting, reader's thoughts have suicidal undertones, i'm aware that the seasons timeline doesn't align with tlou canon and that's okay <3

a/n: we are so back babies!!!!! thank you for being patient and for all the love and encouragement for this story in particular. it means more than you can imagine <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

It must be close to Christmas, you think, based on how little daylight you see on the camera footage. The fuzzy images from outside started showing snow some time ago. Everything covered in white, a thick carpet on the earthy floor, a heavy weight on empty branches.

There had been a time when you kept track, when you cared. Dutifully crossing out days, counting down. A faint echo of the giddy anticipation from past years, but still.

You remember the first year, creeping outside, fighting to push a tree down the narrow stairs. It had lost most of its needles on the way down, but it didn’t matter. Silently tiptoeing your way through the house, up the wooden staircase to the attic, the boxes labelled in handwriting that you hadn’t seen for months. How fresh it had all felt, back then.

How their eyes had lit up at the sight, how you had decorated the tree together. Delicate ornaments between small fingers, gently placed on branches, careful not to let them fall. Christmas music playing from the radio in the corner. Almost, almost normal.

There had been the three of you, huddled together under a woolen blanket, a book in your lap. The stories that your Dad used to read to you on Christmas Day, now alive in your voice. You had tried not to think about how rude you had been the past few times, at fourteen, fifteen years old. Too grown up to listen to children’s stories. How desperately you longed for it now. How desperately you wanted to stop being the grown-up.

You didn’t have any presents, but you lit a candle, making a wish for the next year. You had whispered it, together, eyes closed, all of you dreaming the same thing.

“It must be close to Christmas,” you say out loud now. Still on the same couch, still wrapped in a woolen blanket. But it’s many years later, and you haven’t celebrated Christmas in forever.

Joel had wrapped the blanket around you, which he’s doing almost every evening now. Like he somehow knows when you’re cold. It’s nice, and it scares you how nice it is. Nice things don’t last.

He only hums in response, and when you look at him, his brows are drawn, his lips tightly pressed together. Ellie chooses one of the movies that you can tell by now he’ll like, but he stays quiet the whole evening. When you steal glances at him, he doesn’t seem to be really watching, his eyes unseeing and far away. His hands are fists in his lap, the knuckles white. Do you look like that too when you get lost in the memories?

When the movie’s over, he goes to bed with only a grumble of good night. You watch him go, your lip worried between your teeth.

Ellie is oblivious to it, or maybe just not as concerned about Joel’s mood as you.

She waits in your bed when you emerge from the bathroom, propped up against the headboard, eyes wide and body fidgety with impatience and one of your favorite books in hand.

A few days ago, a quiet evening, you had been reading it, your eyes silently tracing the words that you almost knew by heart at this point, when she asked what it was about. You had started explaining, and eventually reading it to her when she wouldn’t stop asking questions.

Sinking down on the covers beside her, you slide it from her fingers and search the page where you left off last night.

“What was it like, before? Christmas?” she asks timidly before you can start reading, searching your face with that unbridled curiosity of hers that makes it impossible not to answer. You can’t not let her in, the instinct to care for someone younger still ingrained deep in your whole being.

You smile at the memory, despite the sharp sting it sends through your chest. “It was really nice,” you tell her, settling deeper into the softness of your bed, your eyelids fluttering at the images your mind conjures up, vivid as if it was only yesterday that you lived in them. “We— we always had a really big tree, and so many candles, and my mom baked all these cookies, and—”

Your voice dies down, unable to find a way around the lump that’s swelling in your throat. She shuffles closer, just a little bit, but it’s a welcome weight against your side. Something to ground you, something to hold on to.

“Yeah, it was nice,” you finally manage, and feel the movement of her nod against your shoulder. She doesn’t ask another question, and after a beat, you start reading.

It’s only when she’s gone to her own bed and you’re alone with your mind and its memories, that they start flowing in again. How quickly everything changed, how one day everything was fine, and then nothing was.

You used to keep track. Of holidays, of birthdays. Determined not to lose things, to keep yourselves human. To be more than creatures trying to survive.

Staying up until midnight on New Year’s Eve, small eyelids drooping again and again, but so eager to see the clock strike twelve. Lighting sparklers than you had managed to dig from one of the boxes, the cracking and glittering reflected in wide eyes right there in the living area. It had been a terrible idea, the burnt smell not dissipating for weeks.

Getting up at the crack of dawn, silently moving through the kitchen, whipping up something that resembled a cake.

Carrying it into a bedroom, singing happy birthday, blowing out candles. Making the same wish, over and over.

You haven’t celebrated your birthday in years. You don’t even know how many.

Have you already hit forty? Are you older than your mother, now?

When sleep takes you, your mind is still lost deeply in the past, your dreams taking you to a place where everything feels real and the present never happened. It’s not what you’re used to, not the panic of losing something, not the image of your blood-stained hands.

But somehow, it’s worse. They’re right there with you, so close. You can feel their touch, small hands in yours. You can smell their scent again, burying your nose in their hair, pressing the warmth of their bodies against yours when you hug. They laugh, without a care in the world, like everything is right.

You wake slowly, wandering between the here and there, between dream and reality. The dread settles in slowly, as the chasm opens further and further, until you can’t see, can’t feel them anymore. Until you remember where you are, what happened. How you’re all alone. Just let me stay with you. Please just let me stay there. Please.

The tears are already flowing when your eyes open to the familiar darkness of your room, your chest aching with the overwhelming sensation of loss. You have always tried very hard to never think of the first day you realized you were all alone, the feeling too painful to ever let it in again once it first subsided. But it’s here now, ripping you wide open until you’re gasping for breath, the pillowcase damp with tears and sticking to your cheek.

Through the closed door, faint sounds of Ellie and Joel starting their day begin to filter in. It sends another wave of grief through you, when you remember that this short period of being together, of feeling like part of something, like you’re actually living again, will come to an end someday soon. That one day, you’ll wake up to utter silence again, to be broken by no one but yourself.

It won’t hurt as much as the first time you ended up alone, nothing ever will. Still, you don’t know how you’re going to get through it again.

You eventually push your door open, hoping your eyes aren’t as red and swollen as they feel, and quietly pad over into the kitchen. Joel is there, his back facing you, waiting for the coffee to be ready. His fingers drum against the counter.

You hesitate for a moment, allow yourself to watch without him noticing for once. Commit the image to memory for when he’s gone, only to be buried deep the second it starts hurting, but no less important to have.

He turns around as if he sensed your presence, something akin to a smile on his face, but it falls when he sees you. His brow furrows, one hand awkwardly extended to reach out to you until he thought better of it.

“Are you okay?”

The soft, gentle lilt of his voice brings a new wave of hot tears to your eyes, but you nod quickly, forcing the corners of your mouth upwards.

“Y—yeah. Just didn’t sleep well.”

He nods back, slowly bringing his hand to his side again. You kind of wish he didn’t. You kind of wish he held you, comforted you.

“Me neither,” he mutters.

“I’m sorry.”

Joel never talks about his past, and neither does Ellie, but you reckon that anyone who has survived this long has had their share of loss. Sometimes you hear his voice through the two cracked doors when he talks in his sleep. You shouldn’t have brought up Christmas yesterday.

“‘S not your fault.”

He brushes past you on his way out of the room, the coffee in one hand, the other one ghosting against yours for just the fraction of a second. It could have been purely accidental, could mean nothing. But as the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin, you like to think that it was his way of trying to comfort you without saying so.

Sadness cloaks you with a heavy blanket all day, impossible to shake off. You hear Joel talk to Ellie in their room for a little while, their voices too low for you to make out what they’re saying. You couldn't bring yourself to care anyway.

It helps to go through the motions of a normal day, to prepare food like you always do even when Joel protests that he can do it. It’s nice to do something with your hands, to keep at least some part of you occupied.

It passes you by quickly, too quickly, and then it’s evening again. You’re scared to go to sleep, scared to go to that place again, and at the same time scared of never finding it again. Scared of how badly you wish that, if you find it, you won’t wake up.

You’re already in bed, talking yourself into closing your eyes, when a small knock against wood sounds through the room. Ellie shuffles in, a quiet greeting on her lips, her voice anxious. You feel bad instantly.

It’s an integral part of you, the urge to swallow your own pain down if it means easing the pain of someone else, someone smaller.

“Come here,” you say softly, pulling the blanket away to make room for her. She hesitates for just a second, eyes flickering. Then she crawls into bed with you, both your breaths the only sound in the room. “Sorry I was so out of it today,” you finally murmur.

“That’s okay,” she says, sounding so much older than she is. “Joel said you weren’t feeling good.”

You hum. That’s one way to put it, you guess. And you’re thankful that Joel talked to her, even when he didn’t have much of an explanation to offer.

Silence surrounds the both of you, until finally, she takes a deep breath, the sheets rustling when she fidgets a little. “I’m really glad that we found you.”

Your exhale comes shakily, just like your fingers when you grab her hand with yours.

“Me too, Ellie.” It’s gonna hurt like hell when you leave, but I still am.

When she bids you a good night and slips out of your bed again, you finally feel some faint calmness and close your eyes to let the inevitability of sleep take over you.

Until you find yourself in the forest again. There’s snow on the ground this time, littered with the red of blood. Blood on the ground, blood on your hands, coating your tongue, until all you feel and taste is death. You wildly turn around, panicked, looking, searching, desperate for… something. You had to do something, find something. Someone. Someone?

You can’t remember. Promise you’ll keep them safe. It’s the most important promise you ever gave. But you’re lost, you can’t remember what you need to do. Who it is that you need to keep safe.

Your own scream wakes you, dying in your throat as soon as you realize, but it’s too late.

Joel’s voice is already in your ears, his hands on your shoulders, on your cheeks. His eyes are wide in the yellow shade of the bedside lamp, his hair a mess, and you just need to be held so fucking badly.

His arms open instantly when you lean into him, engulf you in warmth and press you against his chest, where you sob into the fabric of his shirt. He holds you there, shushing you gently, his hand traveling up and down your back.

“It’s okay, darlin’. You’re okay.”

You shake your head against him, moving back a little to look up into his face.

“I— I forgot about them. I had to save them, and then they were just— gone.”

Another sob wracks through your body, and he holds you steady, a solid mass against your quickly crumbling form. He doesn’t ask who, just sighs and tightens his grip on you. One thumb wipes at the skin under your eyes, but it’s a lost effort with how fast the tears are streaming.

“Do you think—” He clears his throat, searching your face. “Do you think it might help to talk about them? To help you to keep the memory?”

thank you so so much for reading! if you enjoyed it, imagine how much i would enjoy reading a reblog or a comment <3

#janas fics #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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circeyoru · 3 days ago

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Shadow and Void _ Part 5

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Enemy Monarch!Reader]

Part 1 ― Part 2 ― Part 3 ― Part 4 ― Part 5 (here)

Without a second left to process, you disappeared before her eyes again and reappeared behind her. Hae-In only managed to turn around just in the nick of time and block an attack. When the dust cleared, she realized her blade was blocking off a staff, and her arms trembled as she tried to stop it from slamming into her face.

Her eyes widened when the top part of the staff had a misty aura, and sensing imminent danger, she immediately backed away with the sword in hand. She stared at the spot she once stood, now with a craved blade in her place. The staff had turned into a scythe within seconds. If she hadn’t trusted her instincts, she might have been stabbed.

You clicked your tongue and moved in for another swipe at her. Without enough time to dodge, she used her blade to block it as best she could. However, it only managed to knock her to the side. You retracted the blade back into a staff, your hand hovered over the middle of the staff and moved towards the end to make a needle. Then you shot it in her direction without a second to spare.

This time, she dodged it, but the sharp tip scraped her dominant arm. She faltered as she kneeled on one knee, using the sword as a support to prevent herself from falling over and creating more of a disadvantage to her already dire situation.

Seems like the winner of this match has been decided… Jinwoo thought to himself. “Are you satisfied now?”

“Not yet…” Hae-In panted, the colour on her face drained, “I can still fight.”

You could feel your eye twitch. This was getting more and more annoying by the second. You couldn’t help but leak a bit of your malicious aura out at her defiance and troublesome attitude. Why in the realms did you think she could be useful to you?

What’s she thinking? I didn’t think she’d be reckless enough to keep fighting even after realizing their difference in strength. This is not an actual summon of mine but a Monarch who’s still hostile to me. His eyes landed on your form. Though calm, he noticed the twitch in your fingers and eyes that gave away your irritation if one ignored the dark aura around you. I can tell… There’s an overwhelming thirst to kill being suppressed. If the Monarch of this realm wants to kill her, she’s dead.

“One more move,” Jinwoo said. He looked over to Hae-In. “If you can’t defeat my summon ally with the next move, then it’s your loss.”

The giant needle that was launched disappeared and reformed in your hand, this time as a pair of sharp claws extended from your hands. You ran forward at her. The quicker she loses, the quicker all this ends, and you can relax.

{Skill: Sword Dance} Hae-In’s sword glowed a golden aura. When you were within range, her blade attacked without missing a beat and unstopping. You didn’t even appear to be in trouble as your claws swatted off the attack with ease. You glared at her as you grabbed onto the blade and broke it into pieces. This is the end for her.

Yet Hae-In didn’t stop as she went for another technique {Skill: Sword of Light}. What remained of the sword reformed its bladed shape with a golden glow. She made her move quickly as she tried to stab into your chest. You merely raised your open palm at her and your mist devoured her technique. Amid her disbelief, you kicked her in the stomach and raised your claw at her. Your glowing eyes stared down at her.

This ends now.

“Stop!”

When you came to realization, Jinwoo had his dagger out, blocking your attack aimed at Hae-In as the two solid surfaces clashed with sparks flying. Your crazed eyes turned back to normal, as did your aura. However, your eyes widened as they met the vessel’s, there was a brief moment of question and a burning sensation you couldn’t explain. None of that! You tsked and backed up, snapping your fingers to bring everyone back to the human world, back to that insufferable vessel’s office.

“My ally won, Hunter Cha.” That was all you needed to hear and left them without a word of exchange, leave Jinwoo’s presence for the moment.

You fell into a vortex and reappeared on some rooftop of a building. You sat down and crossed your arms with a scowl on your face. “Annoying. So annoying. How could Ashborn pick such a demanding vessel?” Like a volcano erupting, you screamed your lungs out, “Ahhhhhhhh!!!”

The shadow behind you shifted and a figure appeared.

You felt tick marks appeared on your forehead when you sensed another presence behind you, “Listen here, you little vessel! If you think―” Your words were cut short the moment your head turned around to see a familiar Shadow. “Igris.”

The humanoid Shadow bowed with a hand over his ‘heart’ area before stepping closer to where you were.

“It’s been so long. No wonder you weren’t in the army, you were sent to that vessel to look after.” You smiled at the loyal knight. “That vessel’s a handful, right?”

Igris seem to take a moment to think before he shook his head.

You raised a brow, “Why aren’t you saying anything?” At his silence, your eyes widened. “No… You aren’t at full strength, aren’t you? That’s why you can’t talk.”

Igris nodded.

“That vessel is incompetent…” You huffed.

Igris’ hand ruffled the top of your head.

“I am so complaining on your behalf! Wait. What name did he give you? Don’t tell me he took away your manly name!”

Igris shook his head.

That caught your attention, then another question popped up. “Then that special word. Is it still… [Arise]?”

Igris nodded.

“No way…” You turned to look down at the city below of the people mingling and living without fear or knowing what’s to come. One’s a chance, two is just… It can’t be a coincidence. The fact that this vessel, Jinwoo, was protected and raised to be such a powerhouse, even given Igris as his Shadow from the original army. Ashborn can’t be serious…

“I’m going to have a successor. Can you watch over them for me?”

No way. You shook your head forcefully. You hugged your knees close to your chest. The difference between a vessel and a successor was simple: a vessel is where the human soul is devoured the moment the Monarch arrives while a successor is where the original Monarch’s essence is… You buried your head in your arms.

“Igris… Is Ashborn mad at me for betraying him?”

Out of your view, Igris kneeled and placed a hand on your head, his cape wrapped around you for support and comfort. In a way, he was telling you as best he could that his former master had already forgotten about the ordeal.

You’ve waited too long for your answer, your redemption, your punishment, to be passed on to some outsider, worse, to some human. This was too much, such a cruel joke. Were you a fool to wait so long?

You raised your head and stared at the tiny humans below that looked like ants crawling around. What did Ashborn see in these humans that made him pick a successor and sacrifice himself? What made this vessel, Jinwoo, so special?

Well, yes, Jinwoo was unlike any other human you’d met. He was kind and cold simultaneously, fair and just to those he met, strong and controlled in his overwhelming power. He could have the entire world at his feet if he wished. However, he strived for the simple things in life, like caring for his family. When you were held captive, you had seen how fast his mood changed at the call or text from his mother and sister. Even his guild’s vice master was a lowly D-Rank, but he treasures friendship over status.

But these were things he could do after having power. What happened before? Had he changed? Had Ashborn changed plans after Jinwoo’s growth? No, unlikely. If Ashborn had long ago said he was looking for a successor, he would have been thorough with his options. Something in Jinwoo must have caught his attention that he would make such a choice.

You need to know―to understand―why Jinwoo.

Why him, Ashborn?

You don’t want to admit it and you know you’re denying it. Ashborn wouldn’t abandon you and leave you in the care of his successor, this human that caught his favour with whatever stunts pulled before you met him. Ashborn cared for you, unlike the transactional relationship you would have with the Monarch of Destruction or the give-and-take relationship you have with the other Monarchs, you knew. You cared for him the same way, unlike how you treated the others, that he knew too.

So why? Why was there a need for a successor? You could understand building and growing a vessel. But an actual successor that was born a human? You can’t understand it at all. You can chop off your head and grow a new one over and over again, yet still can’t think of a reason why Ashborn would throw away his everything to give to a human successor.

Humans are fragile. Humans are complex. Humans are short-lived. You have seen first hand during your days on Earth. You’ve once grown attached to someone, that same someone was gone in the blink of an eye. That human that gave you unique security and affection gone like the dust in the wind. Your world shattered with that someone. Just like Ashborn.

Why else did you stall Ashborn in your realm of nothingness? You wanted him to be alive and well, without the need for any silly vessel or successor to continue living. Or the war, whatever. So long as he was alive.

Did Sung Jinwoo take Ashborn from you? No. He’s not powerful enough. He was a puppet, at least in the beginning. Ashborn wasn’t weak enough to be pushed by some humans as well. He was a strong warrior, one of the strongest. So the remaining answer was…

Ashborn picked Sung Jinwoo because he was worthy.

“Sung Jinwoo’s worthy…” Your eyes narrowed, the words that escaped your lips felt wrong but right at the same time. Igris, who stood by your side, bowed his head, agreeing with your statement. Your eyes slowly closed with your head tilted to the side in defeat, “Have it your way, Ashborn.” You exhaled through your nostrils, eyes opening with a faint glow as you stared at the setting sun. “But I have the final say for your real army.”

Note: There are more parts to come and I divided them into arcs. I might update this series into a mini-novel or not (cause it'll have more parts then all the other series I've done), maybe there's gonna be a new masterlist for this. I'll see. Are you guys still interested in this series though?

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST *(regarding requests, check the Masterlist to see if it’s opened or not and other info related before sending one. Thanks.)

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#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #Solo Leveling #Only I Can Level Up #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo #yandere sung Jin woo #yandere sung jinwoo #yandere jinwoo #Yandere sung jinwoo x reader #yandere sung jin woo x reader #Shadow and Void

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