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pearlymel · 3 months ago

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"The Masks We Wear"

Summary: as a journalist, you are itching to find the identity of this mysterious hero. But could it be that the hero is closer to you than you think?

Wc: 7.3k eat up

Warnings: Wriothesley x afab!reader, gn! reader, modern au, hero and villian au (one of each), reader is a journalist/cameraman, fluff, making out, crack (i laughed a lot writing this), angst (oops), one small sex scene, slightly under the influence, cursing, it's pretty unrealistic, petnames used: sunshine, love, and sweetheart.

Notes: i poured my heart and soul into this, i think it's my best piece so far ^^ give it a chance, maybe you'll love it. (Pleasepleasepleaseplease) Rbs are greatly appreciated!

Credits: banner art by the great @/danijaci

Click!

The city is absolutely beautiful today. No, no. It’s not because of the lights that makes the place brighter and a bit more magical, how it seems livelier with a group of teenagers laughing together while buying street foods together, or the old couple that seem still very much in love, the gentleman kneeling down and tying her shoes just to make sure she wouldn’t trip this time.

Humans can be cute, you think.

But of course, among those innocent ‘humans’ are those who desire destruction.

This time, you think you might have caught something in the shadows, and you stare intently at your camera, zooming it in to see the faintest color blending in with the darkness. Hair? A part of clothes? You don’t know, but you got it.

you have this obsession of finding out who the hero of this city was, or even the villian. Although, you would be technically be walking into death if you try finding out who the villian is.

Where did this hero come from? No one knows. Sure the crime rate has lowered, but it felt like the world became even more messed up.

It all started a couple of years ago when you were in your college days, one day almost dying from a falling building, and you thought you saw the scythe waiting to take your soul at that very moment but, no.

The mysterious hero of the city that you never thought you would never encounter carried the building with his super strength power, apparently.

He who has no name, took your hand and lead you into a safer area with the police.

cliché story, right. But that’s what got you into journalism and media now.

And let’s say… you’re too far into the deep black hole to back down now.

The almost blinding light made you come back to your senses, the sounds of engine roaring in the air as the bike approached you, and your shoulders were already slumped.

“How did you find me?” You raise your voice due to the loud engine running, covering parts of your vision from the light.

“Lucky guess.” Wriothesley replied gruffly, pulling his helmet off and shaking his head slightly to fix up his messy strands.

“Care to explain what on earth are you doing here in this shady alleyway? At nine thirty where the moon is out and wolves could be coming for you?” He starts scolding you, quirking an eyebrow when you give him the bored expression, and he immediately mimics it back.

“Taking pictures.”

“Of the rats?”

“Wriothesley.” You shoot him a look and he raises his hands in the air. “I understand your… obsession. But it could hurt you in the process, mentally and physically.”

You know he’s saying all this because he cares so much about you. Loves you too much that it would break his soul piece by piece if one day what you’re doing will hurt you.

“Hop in, sweetheart.” He hands you the extra helmet, and you take it with a sigh. Securing it around your head before taking your place behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revved the engine.

The whole ride back was silent, yet traffic, which entirely ruined the whole mood. With the constant car horns ringing in your ear.

You tap at his thigh to grab his attention, “Why’s it traffic?” You grumble, rising yourself from the seat to look at the row of cars trying to get through.

“Not any holidays or events i can think of,” he responds back to you.

Red mixed with orange fills your vision, suddenly the car at the very front explodes. The car parts flying in the air and landing at the other vehicles which makes you frozen in shock.

Wriothesley’s clenches his hands tightly as he turns the bike around, speeding his way far away from the scene. “Hold onto me tight, and don’t look back, you hear?” He yells enough to grab your attention, and your arms tightens around him, but you have your head turned around to see the people yelling and dashing out of the vehicles. You want to capture the moment with your phone so you could submit it in for the news, but you know more than to ignore Wriothesley right now.

It’s not rare to see destruction happen in your city, it’s just… terrifying every time anybody witnesses it.

Maybe it wasn’t an accident, maybe it was planned.

“You’re not allowed to go out after seven.” Wriothesley makes it clear to you with his firm tone as you both step inside your shared apartment, locking the apartment with a click. He then tosses his keys into a bowl on a small table, before turning to look at you.

“Are you seriously setting a curfew for me? Please. what happened was not new—”

Your face is now being cradled by his rough hands, but the way he swipes a thumb under your eyebags really makes you melt. And you forget what you were going to say when his lips curl the slightest.

“I don't want anything happening to you. Ever.” He takes you in his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing he ever held. “I didn't mean to pressure you like that. I'd hate it if you were in the position of those injured people.”

You pat his back to reassure him that hopefully nothing like that will happen. “And, if, hypothetically, something like that happened; What would y—”

“I'll kill everyone.” he doesn't even let you continue before he answers, though the chuckle against your hair followed after makes your tense shoulders relax.

“maybe not to that extent,” he lifts your head up to lean in and press a tender kiss on your forehead.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“what is it?”

“… something or someone.”

Your boss gives you a nonchalant sharp look when you eagerly showed him the bits you managed to capture last night before you were interrupted by your great boyfriend.

His eyes squints at the more of a blurred photo that sits on the display of your camera, taking the glasses that hanged from his collar.

The sigh afterwards makes you feel discouraged when he hands you back your camera.

“i see it.” He starts and you perk up immediately.

“it looks like a blurred image of a fucking bird taking a shit on the electrical cords.” You press your lips into a thin line at his description. Too detailed of a description,

what a bastard.

It.. certainly didn't look like that.

You clear your throat, pinching the bridge of your nose to compose yourself.

“You're lucky i like your determination or you would've been fired,” he utters out in a lax tone, resting his glasses on his big bald head that you want to spill with ketchup.

“Keep looking, i need the hero's face, details, anything. Just think of the money you and i could both earn.” He seems too enthusiastic about it, showing you determination with his fists pressing together and his wide ear to ear smile.

You leave work early that day, starting your daily walk of looking around for at least two hours or—one hour?

No, Wriothesley would be too worried if you came back after… nine. Your words not his.

You need to rearrange a schedule in your head.

Step one: somehow convince your boss that you need to leave early everyday.

Step two: search every nook and cranny of the city, ask every shady person if they get to talk to the hero in person or got a glimpse of his name.

Step three: go to the dark web— is that car flying infront of you right now?!

Shit. Just why does everything have to go down wherever path you go?

The people around you panics, and you equally panic with them because you're no fucking hero to tell them to get away from that flying car.

You take your camera out hurriedly from its case that slung around your shoulder, pressing record while frantically looking around. The ground shakes, it shakes so much that it feels like an earthquake almost.

“it's him! The villian!” Someone shouts from the distance, and just like that the screams that follows are in sync.

You know why the ground shook, the street has become a battlefield for the hero and villain fighting together with all their strengths, the air is filled with tension as they both clash in an epic confrontation. The ground trembles beneath your feet again as they traded blows, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The once tranquil street has now been transformed into a chaotic arena of power and destruction. As the battle rages on. The hero and villain continue their fight, each strike more powerful than the last, their movements a blur of speed and precision.

You try capturing anything with your camera, but your hand shakes that it was impossible. When the villian lands a powerful punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back, it makes you think it's time to leave.

You run with the rest without stubbornness this time. You should've listened to Wriothesley, why did you always have to be so curious about everything?

This curiousity will kill you next after the cat.

“Taxi!” You shout, waving your hand at the yellow vehicle, but every taxi seems to ignore the people's pleas, determined to save themselves instead.

Guess it's time to burn calories and run back home.

You were a panting mess once you reached back to your comfort space, eyes zeroing at the running television in the living room. Watching the newscaster talk about today's battle and how it affected the shops and buildings.

It seems like the battle lasted twenty minutes before the villian gave up and fled away.

Your head snaps to the bathroom once you hear the sink water drip, you didn't even think if he would be here this early.

“Wriothesley,” you say breathlessly when you swing the door open, arms squeezing his side as you take a deep breath in.

“woah, easy there. What happened?” He takes you in, hand rubbing at your arm.

“i was…” nevermind. Maybe you shouldn't tell him what you have witnessed, he'll know once he checks the news.

You only realise that he was chest bared at the moment, and you furrow your eyebrows once you see a bruise on his shoulder.

“What happened?” It was your turn to ask, talking a gentle finger and running it over the bruise, earning a hiss from him.

“was changing the car oil at the repair shop.” He mumbles, gaze turning to the mirror, “then accidentally hit my shoulder once i got up.” he turns his arm, swinging it slowly.

“but you don't work at a car repair shop?”

“it's a side hustle, sunshine.”

“why didn't you tell me?” You press on, and he hangs his head low, both of his hands gripping the sink bowl.

Okay, maybe you have annoyed him a little too much now. Upon sensing your incoming apology, Wriothesley smiles at you.

“don't worry your pretty little head too much. The bruise will fade.”

“i can massage you later?” You offer, and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “You're the best.” He gives you a chaste kiss on your lips on his way out, which makes you feel a little fuzzy.

The evening gave way to the night sky, and you found yourself lying on the bed, replaying the video captured on your camera. The footage was far from perfect, shaky and lacking in clarity, but it still managed to capture fragments of the intense confrontation between the hero and the villain. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as you watched the brief glimpses of the clash that had taken place earlier.

How the villian managed to blow a punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back. Must've hurted.

It's almost like the same spot Wriothesley got his bruise on.

…

Wait, the same spot? You sit up on the mattress, replaying the video on repeat of their fight.

The hero was about the same height as him, the same physique, same cake—

You shake your head, focus. Wriothesley can't be the hero, no that's impossible. He was a busy man, doing… side jobs and whatnot.

Sure he was kind, always helping everyone, even walking the neighbors dog because they got sick one day.

But then again… you never saw Wriothesley and the hero at the same time,

Or was it merely a coincidence, a random alignment of physical features?

“Sunshine?” You gasp when you snap your head up to find Wriothesley leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“y-yes?” You set the camera aside on top of the drawer. He moves closer, seating himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on you then glancing at he camera.

“dinner's ready.”

You nod, silence fills the room after. You know he's waiting for you tell him more, on why you were so shocked.

“was looking at the hero's pictures.”

“not mine? I'm wounded.”

You roll your eyes, a slow smile creeping up your face, and he loves it. He takes it as an invitation to lean closer, suddenly pinning you down on the bed to capture your lips with his.

It's slow, and gentle. It makes you hum softly, taking his face in your hands to kiss him back, moving your lips together until you were gasping for air.

You forget you were even suspicious of him a second ago.

Your fingers lightly trace his jawline and you feel the pricks of his growing facial hair. A small smile plays on your lips as you inform him in a soft tone, "You need to shave." Wriothesley chuckles softly, the sound warm and low. He reaches up to your hand, gently taking hold of it and bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your palm. "Is that why you stopped kissing me?" He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "No! I find you more.. attractive. Plus it.. yeah, it feels like little needles on my face.” you admit quietly.

Wriothesley presses his face into your neck, his lips tracing soft kisses along your skin. His hands begin roving your body, each touch sending a gentle shiver across your flesh. He whispers quietly next to your ear, his voice low and smooth as he responds, "I'll shave after dinner." The sensations of his lips against your neck and his hands exploring your body mix together, creating a heady combination that heightens your senses and ignites a slow fire within you.

“I'll.. help.” You whisper, bringing both of your arms to wrap them around his back. “What a sweetheart.” he uttered out, voice muffled from trying to mold into your skin.

Your mind stops working for a second when he presses his knee gently between your legs to pull them apart, “Wriothesley, what about dinner?” You frantically ask him, tugging his hair up so both of your gazes could meet. And the almost drunken expression he has on makes you let out a shaky breath.

“later,” he drawls, his fingers tracing lazily along your sides.

Hero? Pftt, what hero? This is just your wriothesley, it's quite impossible for him to be the hero.

You snap out of your daydream when your colleague hands you a cup of coffee, he raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back awkwardly.

A sip of the coffee to get a bit of energy, but only just a bit, since too much caffeine makes you nervous.

“You filmed the crazy battle yesterday?” Your colleague sneaks from behind you, watching the video replay again on your camera.

“they do movies about them now, insane huh?”

“well atleast the hero knows he's popular.” You reply bluntly, taking anothsr sip from your hot beverage.

“flash news, someone heard that his name starts with the letter ‘W’ or som—”

You spit out your coffee all over your white attire. You both exchange surprised looks, but you quickly wipe your mouth using the back of your hand.

“where exactly did you hear that?” You get straight to the point, gesturing them to sit next to you.

“from my father's friend’s cousin sister.”

His reply makes your eyes twitch, from who and who?

“Okay…” you whisper, turning around and thinking of the utter nonsense they spouted.

“you don't believe me.” he sighed, “I've been telling this to everyone in the building but no one is believing me! Just tryna’ do my job here.”

Let's say maybe you believe him. But the dots are connecting too fast that you want to refuse from believing it.

Was your target closer to you than you had expected?

“I'm clocking out, can you cover for me today?” You inform your colleague, and he crosses his arms while eyeing you up and down.

Your roll your eyes, “I'll be the cameraman for next week. So you could get three days off.” You force a smile and they smile back enthusiastically.

Wriothesley is definitely home. Earlier than the usual time he'd be back.

Oh, he's asleep on the couch. Leaning back tiredly with an almost stern expression on, but his body seems relaxed.

Now is the time to do anything. Investigate? Go through his things without his permission? That sounded all awful… surely he's not hiding any—

��go search his things.” You furrow your eyebrows when the devil on your left shoulder speaks, it makes you rub your face in annoyance.

Then a sudden white little angel poofs on your right shoulder with a disappointed face, “no, don't do it. He's a little scary when he gets mad. But he'd never betray you!” you feel reassured at it's words and you nod in agreement.

“don't listen to it. He could hurt you if you keep it a secret.” The red devil whispers again and it makes you shiver a bit.

“he would never hurt you.” The angel frowns.

“yes he would, he's a man.”

“a good man.”

“yeah? You're no better than me, you just want that—”

“okay shut up both of you. Shoo.” You brush both of your shoulders off before taking a deep breath to brace yourself.

You'll just search his.. clothes.

You feel guilty once you pocket his jackets and pants in his side of the wardrobe, checking every hidden pocket thoroughly while glancing at the door once in a while to make sure he doesn't wake up.

As your fingers brush against his jacket, you notice an unusual sensation – a cool, metal feeling hidden underneath the fabric. Your eyes widen in surprise as you recognize it to be the form of a gun's handle. A mixture of curiosity and concern floods through you, freezing you in place.

It really is a gun. You study it carefully, turning it around and feeling it's heaviness in your palm.

But you feel your heart run out of your ribcage when two pairs of arms wrap tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Shit.

“hi,” he whispers next to your ear, but you're too nervous to even look back at him.

“nice thing you got there.” He muses, and you feel like you're losing oxygen once he tightens his grip around you even more.

“… i just found it.” You mutter, mostly to yourself. Your head hanging too low to avoid his eyes.

“Could've just asked me, no?” He clicks his tongue, almost in disappointment.

“i have it on me because—”

“because you use it for the good, right? Because you're the hero?” Your voice is shaky when you ask, the gun in your hand shaking with you, and you're afraid to drop it.

“hero?” Wriothesley repeats, shaking you gently awake and you gasp harshly, taking in big breaths, your boyfriend immediately trying to soothe you.

it was a dream.

“you were mumbling something about a hero in your sleep. Are you okay?” He asks in concern, brushing a strand off your face. You were sweating too much for your liking.

“when did i get here?” You look around, taking your palms to rub the sleepiness off. “Right when you got off work. You slept on the bed without changing your clothes.”

Oh… so you never checked his clothes. Deciding to just sleep instead.

Your head turns back to the wardrobe, staring at it intently. Could the jacket be in the same arrangement as you found it in your dream? Or will the gun also be there?

“you're going to poke a hole through it if you keep staring.” He stifles a laugh, and you couldn't help but try to smile as well. “Drink up. Slow sips.” He offers you a glass of water, and you hold the glass firmly in your hand.

“so… what was your dream about? Even this hero appears in your dreams? Can't say I'm not jealous.”

“You'll have grey hairs too early from overthinking.” You tease, sitting upright in bed, “oh no, you already do, old man.” you frown, tracing the grey strands along with his black hair. He watches in amusement.

Wriothesley lets out a deep sigh, “give your old man a break. They're a badge of wisdom and experience,” he rests his head on your lap, nuzzling close as you massage his scalp.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Breaking news: the ‘’lola” flower shop sets on fire just three hours ago. Our dear hero saves the day yet again, protecting the old lady just in time before her shop explodes. The cause of the fire is still unknown…”

Destruction out of nowhere again. Accidents out of nowhere again.

The voice of the newscaster on the television fades away in this little diner you're in. You drive your attention away from it, instead focusing now on the Polaroid pictures laid out infront of you.

The hero always wore a mask to cover his identity, obviously. But even after watching the countless of interviews he had, the deep tone slightly matches Wriothesley’s voice, or maybe he's changing his tone on purpose. You can see it by zooming in on the video, how he's catching his breath everytime he speaks when he's just sitting down.

Asthma? Nah.

You tap your fingers impatiently on the table, this is not helping at all, and the slightest itch in your brain worsens as the time goes by.

You think about giving up on this, but the possibility of finding the answer on how or why did all of this happen is probably closer to you than you think.

“Bad guys never end with their schemes. Bunch of attention seekers.” The hero speaks on the television, and you hum curiously as the hero salutes the camera playfully before disappearing from the crowd.

Is it possible that there are multiple heros? Working all together in some basement and taking turns to go out and do a better job than the police?

Possibly, and you write down your new theories down on your little notepad.

You check your phone next, Wriothesley still hasn't answered you back from your most recent text to him.

It's nothing to worry about, but the thought that he's busy saving the city is gnawing at you.

Batman?

You shake your head again, gathering your things to stand up from your seat. You should be blunt asking him about it tonight.

It's cold. Colder than usual. Was the air conditioning on? No. But the windows are sure wide open. You look around the living room before closing the windows and curtains from the outside world, as you draw the curtains, the outside world becomes obscured, leaving the room in a soft semi-darkness.

“Wriothesley, honey?” You call out softly, peeking through the bathroom, not there. The bedroom? Nope.

That leaves the kitchen, you slowly peek your head in he kitchen, and sure enough, he was there.

Wriothesley was rubbing his face in exhaustion while mumbling words under his breath that you can't quite hear. Having one singular glass of some drink in his hand.

“hero this.. hero that..” you finally listen to his mumbles, which makes you furrow your eyebrows together.

"Wrio...?" You call out softly, flipping the switch to turn on the light. His sharp eyes immediately dart up to look at you, and you can't help but shiver under his intense stare. You let out a small gasp of surprise as he suddenly stands up, the glass in his hand slipping from his grip and shattering on the ground along with its contents.

Taken aback by his sudden movement, you instinctively take a step back as he approaches you. But before you can even register what's happening, he crashes his lips against yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. Caught off guard, you cling tightly to him, desperately seeking support to prevent yourself from toppling over.

“You love me,” Wriothesley's voice breaks through the heated kiss, his words coming out in a low, guttural groan. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist. “right?” His voice holds a hint of vulnerability and desperation, as if seeking reassurance and affirmation of your feelings for him.

And when you don't answer him right away, he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently, “answer me.” He almost growls.

“love, what are you taking about? Are you drunk?” You ask breathlessly in concern, your lips feeling swollen.

His jaw clenches, “Why can't you say it?” he inhales your perfume, your scent filling him that it makes him groan, his mouth lavishing your neck and collarbone, leaving kisses and littering marks then soothing the area with his tongue that it makes your pant softly, pressing your face into his hair while your fingers weaving through his black-greyish strands.

“i love you,” you utter quietly, and it suddenly makes him start grinding his hardened length against you. “I'm sorry in advance, sweetheart.”

One minute you're confused about his words, and then the next he's pounding so hard into you like there was no tomorrow.

Strings of “don't leave me,” and “i love you’s,” are echoed in the air. Wriothesley's mouth moves against yours with a sense of urgency and haste, his tongue gliding and tangling with yours in a fervent dance. The bed creaks so loud underneath you that you think it might break anytime, the embarrassment of the headboard banging against the wall immediately gone once he hits your sweet spot rapidly.

Poor neighbors

"Wrio... Wriothesley?” you slowly flutter your eyes open, still in the hazy realm between sleep and wakefulness. The sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, and you blink a few times as you take in your surroundings. A quiet sense of contentment washes over you as you remember the events of the night before, the memories of Wriothesley's body against yours and his lips on yours still fresh in your mind.

You prop yourself up using your elbows, only to look down at the sight of your sleeping lover with his head pressed up on your chest. You collapse back on the bed with a tired sigh.

You still couldn't understand the reasoning behind his.. desperate actions last night. He seemed so pent up and stressed, you'll forgive him this time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• It's the day where you're covering for your colleague, being the cameraman for tonight's news. Yes, tonight.

Wriothesley would kill you if he knew you were working so late at night, but only because he cares about your safety. Good thing he's out of the city for a day.

Or he claims to be out of the city for some important work.

You press the button on your video camera, adjusting the lens to focus on the newscaster standing in front of the camera, holding the microphone with a serious expression. The news van is parked in front of a desolate, run-down neighborhood known for its high crime rate and dangerous reputation. The newscaster speaks into the camera, her eyes boring into the lens as she reports on the neighborhood.

“We are now standing in the heart of one of the most dangerous areas in the city. This neighborhood is notorious for its high crime rate and volatile atmosphere.”

Your senses are heightened at this rate and you really try to focus but the moment you hear the faint crunch of leaves, you lose composure just a bit.

Okay you're a bit scared, but as long as your workmates are he—

a group of armed gang members suddenly appear from the alleyways between the buildings, surrounding the news van and the camera crew. The newscaster, taken off guard, gasps and steps back.

The gang members brandish their weapons, circling the news crew menacingly. One of them shouts at the newscaster, waving his gun in the air. “Hold it right there, pretty lady. This is our turf! You ain’t gonna be broadcasting nothing about us!”

You're about to shit your pants for real this time.

“Drop your cameras and get outta here, or things are gonna get real ugly real fast,” he growls, and one of them points the gun right on your camera.

“I'm talkin’ to you too.”

Yeah, you're not going to fight anyone and act all big. You simply drop the camera on the ground to raise your hands in the air.

As the gang members close in on the news crew, the atmosphere is suddenly shattered by the sound of footsteps pounding against the pavement. Everyone turns to see a tall, muscular figure approaching from the distance.

It's the hero.

You watch in awe as the hero strides towards the group of armed gang members, his movements fluid and precise. With a swift swing of his fist, he lands a powerful punch on the leader's face, sending him stumbling backwards. The other gang members are taken aback by his sudden appearance and the display of force, their eyes widening in surprise and fear. They exchange nervous looks, realizing they're facing a much stronger opponent than they anticipated.

“Hey, let's go!” Your workmate calls for your name. Her hand waving at you so you could all retreat back to the van.

And before you could follow, the van explodes.

The sudden explosion catches you off guard, jolting you out of your stupor. Shouting in surprise, you recoil from the loud blast, ducking instinctively as debris and fragments fly through the air. Your colleague, sitting next to you in the van, lets out a terrified yell as the force of the explosion propels the driver backward. The van shudders and lurches from the impact, the windows shattering and various objects sent flying.

“in the building! Let's go!” All three of you dash to protect yourselves inside this tall company building.

“I will call the police,”

“but the hero is here!” the driver of the van speaks, almost yelling in frustration.

“the hero is also a human. Just a strong one. We can't rely on him—” but before you could continue, you all cover your ears once you hear gunshots come from outside.

Ohmygosh. It’s—it could possibly be Wriothesley who's getting hurt right now. What are even the chances?!

“Fine! Just call the fucking police!” The driver gives up, leaning back against the wall while breathing heavily.

You want to go out there. You want to see. It's your chance to see who the hero is if he got hurt. Just to get the crumbs of news in exchange for your life apparently.

When it grows quiet, you peek outside, “it's clear, I'll take a look—”

“No, you're not.” her hand is firm as she grips your wrist, “just let them go.” He, on the other hand, scowls.

“Be safe!” She shouts at you as you make a run for it, running down the alleyway while looking left and right.

Someone's in the area.

You dart behind the nearby dumpster, heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. Hiding as best you can, you press yourself against the rough metal, trying to keep your breathing steady and quiet. Peeking out from behind the dumpster, you cautiously scan the surroundings, trying to catch a glimpse of someone nearby. For now, the area seems to be clear, but you can't shake the feeling that someone is in the vicinity, lurking in the shadows.

“Where ya at, lil’ birdie?” You cover your mouth when you hear someone speak, it sends a chill down your spine and you can feel your heart drumming in your ears.

Your sharp eyes turn to your side to find a metal rod, you don't hesitate to grab it before smacking the shit out of the guy.

No that did not happen, but you wish it did.

Instead, the minute you see his feet pass the dumpster, with a swift movement, you grab hold of both of his ankles, using your weight and leverage to pull them out from under him. He lets out a pained shriek as he suddenly loses his balance and topples to the ground, his body hitting the pavement with a thud.

Alright, you can be cool sometimes.

Stepping at his hands to hear him cry again, you run put of the place, making turns and finally spotting the hero sitting down against the building wall while panting, seemingly exhausted.

“…” you take slow steps once you approach him, looking down at him with your eyes already glistening.

This is it, you just have to confirm it.

Your hand pulls at his mask, “Wrio—”

Huh?

This…

Is not

Wriothesley.

“Ah, what the fuck?” He grunts, the blonde grabbing the mask from your hands and you take a step back.

“Elias?!” You yell out in confusion, it's your colleague that you're covering for supposedly today's shoot.

“You're the hero??”

“not a word. Scram, you freak.” he mutters, eyes diverting away from you and staring up at the roof. “The roof,” he whispers to himself, making the effort to stand back at his knees.

Is this bitch serious? He's the last person you expected to be the hero. With his stupidly arrogant and lax attitude.

You give him an almost death stare, studying his features again before making your way out.

You need to check the other people that were with you.

But when you arrive back at the building, they were gone.

Did the police arrive? You don't hear any sirens. Could they have possibly went up on one of the floors to hide?

You find yourself in the elevator next, watching as the doors close with your hands clasped infront of you nervously.

You take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and steady your nerves. Hey, at least there's nice elevator music.

As the elevator comes to a halt, the doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing the rooftop and the figure standing in the open space.

There's a figure standing at the edge of the building, you can see the person's silhouette clearly now, but you can't make out their features just yet.

Your steps are hesitant as you slowly approach the figure, the wind gently billowing around you. The city lights twinkle below, but your attention is entirely focused on the person standing at the edge of the roof. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever may come, and call out tentatively, "Hello?”

Your voice rings in the air, that the person's shoulders tense.

When they look around, you're met by the same blue eyes you've known for three years now.

“Wriothesley.” You whisper, in shock, breathlessly under your breath.

He's holding.. a gun? The same gun you remember seeing in your dream.

Something in his mind snaps when you turn around, in fear. Like it was a mistake to ever see him in the first place.

Wriothesley doesn’t even give himself time to think before his body suddenly reacts, suddenly reaching out and circling his hand around your wrist to forcibly tug you back.

He yanks hard enough that you lose your balance and fall against him, his other arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders, preventing you from going anywhere.

“W-wrio—”

“think it's time we talk, sunshine.” He speak into your ear.

When you try to move the slightest from his hold, he grips you around him tighter. You figure it's best to stay still for now.

“what? Are you going to kidnap me now?” You manage to chuckle out, nervously though, your voice coming out more shaky than you intended to.

“Is that going to satisfy your little fantasy? What, I should play into it and shove you into a corner, keep you under my thumb until you’re begging me to set you free? Or no… you want to be saved by the hero.”

"You know you're not helping with your case, right? You really sound like the bad guy now.”

You’ve definitely found his breaking point because that comment makes him snap.

Wriothesley suddenly whirls you around so you’re facing him before he’s pinning you against the nearest wall, his body practically covering your own.

“Well…” He whisper, raising an eyebrow calmly in the way you look being at his mercy. “Aren’t I?”

Your jaw practically hangs at his words. Is he... Playing the bad guy now?

Or was he really… not the opposite of the hero?

He sees the shiver you try so hard to suppress and smirks at that, clearly satisfied with your reaction, “What’s wrong, sunshine? Finally realize that the man you’ve been dating isn’t the hero you've obsessing over?” He chuckles.

“i… i knew it—”

“You didn’t,” he says, his tone suddenly becoming cool and firm.

Wriothesley leans forward, pressing into you so that you’re smashed between him and the wall. His hand suddenly comes up, cupping your jaw so that he tilts your chin up to look directly into his eyes.

“If you’d known, you’d never have come within twenty feet of me. You’d never have been alone with me or spent a single night in our bed.”

He's right. And you hate it. You feel betrayed, lied to, even.

It makes you rethink your life choices.

You've gotten too comfortable with him that you didn't even think about him being the villian. You've gotten too close while you were being a complete idiot.

“you hid it.”

Wriothesley laughs, the sound almost sounding cold, “of course I hid it, sunshine. I wasn’t going to just come strutting in wearing a big, red sign saying ‘look at me, I’m a bad guy!’ was I?”

You clench your fists together, “you tricked me.”

“Tricked? No.” He shakes his head slightly. “I simply… left out key details.”

“Why?”

“ah, there it is.” He steps back, giving you space to breath, to recollect your thoughts.

“why? Because the hero isn't a hero. He started all of this destruction. Why? To get fame, recognition, power, and to be seen, to look like he's doing something when he's not.” He lets out all in one breath, and you lips part again.

“four years ago when the building almost fell on you? He did that, on purpose. then saved you to make it look like he's the one that everyone needs.”

What the hell?

“Wriothesley, we were strangers to each other four years ago. How did you know?” You don't hesitate to step closer to get more answers out of him, but he only stares at you.

You swallow thickly when he draws infront of you once again, “i did this all for you, love. I-i will do everything in my power to stop him, i will kill him so you wouldn't get hurt—”

“Okay, fucker. Out of my way,” Elias, the ’hero’, suddenly barks, and without warning, a gunshot rings out. The bullet pierces through Wriothesley's shoulder, causing him to flinch and stagger backwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as you watch the scene unfold. "Wriothesley!" you cry out, watching as he turns around despite the injury and charges towards Elias.

Despite the pain he must be in, Wriothesley doesn't relent. Ignoring the gunshot wound, he barrels towards Elias with unmatched determination, closing the distance between them.

"Bastard," Wriothesley manages to grit out as he collides with Elias, knocking him off his feet and sending them both crashing to the ground.

You don't hesitate to rush forward, with adrenaline fueling your actions, you move quickly towards them as they roll dangerously close to the edge of the roof.

"Stop!" you shout, your voice filled with desperation. "You'll fall!”

And surely enough, Your two hand clamps down on Wriothesley's, desperately grasping onto anything you can to prevent him from plunging off the edge.

Meanwhile, Elias grips Wriothesley's leg, using his strength to anchor him in place. The three of you hang there, suspended over the city, Wriothesley's body along with Elias’s dangling in the air.

“Sweetheart—”

“shut the fuck up I'm not letting go.” They're both too heavy, the feel of his fingers slipping away from yours increases everytime you try to pull them up.

Elias is purposely pulling Wriothesley's leg down to drop them both, your lips quiver, crying when two of his fingers slip now.

“hey,” his voice is soothing when he calls for you.

“at least… i protected you till the very end, right?” He tries smiling but it only makes the lump in your throat grow.

“i love you.”

“Wriothesley!”

…

“Wriothesley—!” You gasp harshly when you open your eyes so wide, finding that your hand was already reaching out for nothing.

You rest your hand on your chest before leaning back on your seat.

“are you okay?” The newscaster, the friend you made, offers you her handkerchief so you could swipe the sweat off your face.

“i think… continuesly searching about this, is making you stressed.” She points out, looking at the papers and drawings splayed out on your desk.

More theories of the disappearances of the hero and villian. Not their death. Their bodies were never found.

“it's been a year.”

The realization is like a punch to the gut as you bring a sweaty palm to rub at your temples.

“This is not over.” You whisper, more to yourself than to her. “We got no more trouble. No more heroic or bad guy news. The world is back to normal, almost like they never existed huh?”

Never existed.

She then suddenly gasps, which catches you off gaurd, “are engaged??” She eyes at the gem resting on your left ring finger.

The ring you found in one of his jacket pockets when you sorted his things out.

“yeah…” you decide to drawl out before sitting upright on your seat.

“now, if you'll excuse me, i got work to do.”

You're never going to stop searching, to find another answer of the question; 'why?'

Even if it will mean risking your life this time.

#Wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin fluff #genshin angst #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley angst #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #fanfic #wriothesley #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley genshin

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 4 months ago

Text

calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer.

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles.

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart.

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

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slytherinslut0 · 7 months ago

Text

-> mattheo riddle

disclaimer: hogwarts uni au always. chars are always 19+.

-> LEGEND

(*) indicates smut

(•) indicates wip

-> SERIES

✰ beg for me *

- my baby. my pookie. my heart fic. i poured my soul into this book, 30 whole chapters of it. this book is pure filth for a solid 27 of those. a very rocky road to a beautiful love story between mattheo riddle and you, his ravenclaw tutor. it’s story of growth, of learning how to love and be loved, for everyone involved. (starts out where you’re literally his fucktoy but *insert kermit drinking tea emoji here*)

-> ONESHOTS

✰ we aren’t over *

- one of the first shots i’d ever written. fwb (matty) gets jealous seeing you kiss another guy at a party after the two of you had called things off.

✰ we are done *

- mattheo ended things with you after a fight over your concern for his safety, and when he lands himself in the hospital wing due to his recklessness, you pay him a visit, eager to get your revenge. (sub matty afff. also bloodplay)

✰ couldn’t help yourself *

- after teasing your boyfriend during a lecture, he drags you into a broom closet and fucks you brainless. (extremely feral angry dom mattheo in this one.)

✰ let me fuck you *

- worried that mattheo was just going to use you for sex and leave, you had him agree to courting you first until you felt you were ready to take it to the next level. after months of this, mattheo finally can't take it anymore, and lands himself on his knees at your feet. (he’s beggingggg)

✰ focus *

- you and matty are exhausted after a long, chaotic day. you just wanna watch your show, but your insatiable ass bf has other plans.

-> HEADCANNONS

✰ slytherin boys • jealousy

✰ slytherin boys • teasing

✰ slytherin boys • enemies w/tension

✰ slytherin boys • nightmare

-> ALSO FEATURED IN

✰ why not both?*

- mattheo x reader x theodore. yes. this is a filthy ass threesome. nuff said.

✰ everyone wants to fuck mattheo riddle until*

✰ req: mattheo riddle x plus size reader

✰ req: overstimulation*

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rynwritesreid · 1 year ago

Text

Sold my Soul | Spencer Reid

Summary: You’re out celebrating with your friends after a recent work accomplishment. Where you bump into Spencer Reid who is working on a case in your city. fem!reader. This is my first time writing smut outside of an overall story, so there is a plot. I hope you enjoy it:)

Content: Dom! Spencer . Sub! reader. Use of nicknames (good girl). Smut (with a plot). Overstimulation. Oral (M and F receiving) Fingering (F receiving) MDNI. 18+

words: 5.3k

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You like to have things under control, but I mean who doesn’t? You could be relaxed on the surface, all calm and collected, all your friends said you had a calming presence. But if one thing went wrong in your daily routine you would be stressed thinking your whole day had gone wrong.

But today was a big, you had an important meeting with your editor. You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself as you checked the time once again. You were running five minutes late, and now all you could think about is how unprofessional this would look and how unprepared you felt. You had spent countless hours working on your latest novel, and the idea of someone finding a fault in your writing was making you beyond anxious.

You rushed out of your apartment, taking the stairs two at a time. You reached the street just in time to see your uber pulling up to the curb. The driver gave you a nod and a smile as you climbed into the back seat. You smiled back politely but couldn’t find it in you to make small talk. Your mind was solely focused on your meeting ahead. You had been working on your latest novel for months, pouring your heart and soul into every word.

But as the meeting drew closer, you began to second-guess yourself. What if your editor hates your work? What if they find plot holes or inconsistencies that you have missed? The thoughts swirled around in your head like a tornado, and you couldn’t shake them off.

As the car pulled up to the publishing house, you took a deep breath and stepped out onto the street. You smoothed out your clothes and adjusted your bag, trying to regain some semblance of control. But as soon as you walked through the glass door, your anxiety escalated.

The meeting was difficult, but you felt it was successful. Your editor had a handful of constructive criticisms, but all in all, they loved your work. You let out a sigh of relief as you left the publishing house, feeling like a weight had been lifted of your shoulders.

You had decided to call your closest friends to go out and celebrate afterwards. They were always down to go drinking, for celebrations or to commiserate. As you walked towards the nearest bar in the city, your mind was still racing from the meeting. You couldn’t believe that your editor had loved your work, and you couldn’t wait to celebrate with your friends. You pushed open the door to the bar, the sound of laughter and music hitting you as you stepped inside.

Your friends were already there, waving to you from the corner of the room. You made your way over, taking a seat beside them. You could feel the nervous energy draining from your body as your ordered a round of drinks for the table.

As the night went on, the drinks kept coming. You let yourself relax completely, enjoying the company of your friends and the new sense of freedom that came with having your novel approved. The bar kept getting louder and more crowded as the night went on.

Your friends went to get some drinks, as you just wanted to sit and enjoy the atmosphere for a moment. As you were people watching, you saw a group of about five/six people all sitting together. Each one of them was more attractive than the next. But one specifically caught your eye. He was fairly tall, around 6-foot, mediumish brown curly hair, hazel brown eyes and a face sent straight from the Greek gods. You looked at him and you just couldn’t look away. As he caught you looking, he flashed you a smile that made your heart race. You quickly looked away, feeling embarrassed that you had been caught staring. But you couldn’t help but glance back, and you found that he was still looking at you, a playful smirk on his lips.

Suddenly, your friends were back at the table, loudly chatting and laughing as they set down their drinks. You tried to focus on their conversation, but you found yourself stealing glances at the handsome stranger across the room.

You turned back to your friends and as asked, “do you guys see that group of people? Do you think they are all like models or something?”

Both of your friends turned to look at the group of strangers, looking, more like judging, each one.

Lucy was the first to say something, “I think they are. Or whatever job they are in, requires them to look as beautiful as possible.”

Alice than spoke, “it almost feels like I’m dreaming. The two older guys are making me question myself.”

You chuckled at Alice’s comment. “What about the guy with the brown curly hair? He’s like the most attractive man I have ever seen.” You already knew their answers already, they would tell you how they agreed with you, but he wasn’t their type.

“He’s really hot, but the guy sitting next to him is my cup of tea.” Lucy said with a giggle.

Alice elbowed her and went “I thought you’d more go for the woman with the black hair. I’ve seen you flirt with women like her all the time.”

Lucy looked mildly offended, but in a jokey way.

You all laughed together, while still staring at the random group of strangers. You must have looked like a group of weirdos. You all returned to your drinks, and conversation about each of your days. But your attention kept drifting towards the beautiful stranger across the room, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was interested in you too.

After some time, you excused yourself from the table, making your way to the bar. You ordered a drink and leaned against the counter, trying to act cool and collected. But as you turned around, you found the handsome stranger was standing right beside you.

“Do you make it a habit of staring at strangers and then, obviously, talking about those strangers?” He jokingly asked.

“Not really. Only when they all look like models but stand around like they work for the FBI or something.” You replied with a smile, and the feeling of your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You couldn’t help but think that he was more even more attractive up close.

“Well, you guessed one of them right. We aren’t all models, but we do work for the FBI. So, were you and your friends all comparing us, seeing which one is more attractive?” He asked in a teasing tone, with a small smirk plastered across his lips.

“Woah, you work for the FBI? That’s so cool, I’ve written books about you guys. And yeah, maybe we were seeing which one of you is more attractive. But we all have different tastes, so we weren’t necessarily comparing, more saying which one we find attractive.” You replied, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your lips. You couldn’t resist the charm of the handsome stranger.

“Well, I hope you found someone to your liking,” he said turning to look at you fully. “Because I think I might have found someone of mine.”

“You have? Who is it? Is it one of my friends, because if it is, I have disappointing news. Also, I’m Y/N. I don’t normally introduce myself to strangers, but I am kinda drunk right now.”

“It’s not one of your friends,” he said, with a chuckle. “And it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Spencer. You’re smart for not giving out your last name, would be easy to track you down.”

“Is that a threat, Spencer? But don’t worry, I only give my last name out on like the second date with someone.” You say with some confidence.

“Not a threat, just a warning. You never know who you’ll meet in a bar,” he said, his eyes sparkling with humour. “So, Y/N, what brings you out tonight? Celebrating something?”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you wanted to share the news of your novel being approved with a stranger. But something in the way Spencer was looking at you made you feel like you could trust him.

“Actually, I just got my novel approved by my editor. It’s been a long time coming, and I needed to celebrate with my friends,” you said, feeling a little proud of yourself. “What about you, Spencer? What brings you out tonight?”

“Oh, just blowing off some steam with my colleagues. We’ve been working on a tough case for a while. I think we are all missing home.” His voice seemed to have some hurt behind it.

“Oh no. I’m so sorry. But you’ve come to probably one of the worst bars in the city to do that.” You were trying to lighten the mood again.

“Maybe you’re right. But this bar led me to you.” He said with a little chuckle.

Spencer’s words sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, despite knowing almost nothing about him. His hazel eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched you, and you found yourself smiling in response.

“Am I really that interesting, Spencer?” You asked, unable to resist teasing him a little bit.

“Of course, you are, Y/N. You’re smart, beautiful, and you’ve just had a major accomplishment. What’s not to find interesting?” he replied, his voice low and smooth.

As the night wore on, you found yourself constantly drawn back to Spencer. Your conversations flowed easily, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d known him for years.

As the bar closed, your friends began to leave, but Spencer was still standing beside you. You could tell he was hesitant to leave, but you couldn’t tell if that because of you or something else entirely.

“Hey, do you want to go for a walk? It’s a nice night out,” you suggested, hoping he would say yes.

Spencer’s eyes sparkled with interest as he replied, “Sure, I’d love to. But I just need to make a call first. I’ll meet you outside in ten minutes?”

You nodded, feeling your heart race with anticipation. As you walked outside, the cool night air hit you, and you shivered in response. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm as you waited for Spencer.

When he finally emerged from the bar, you felt your heart skip a beat. He looked even more striking in the moonlight, and you couldn’t resist the urge to stare.

Spencer caught your gaze and smirked before walking up to you. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, still feeling a little nervous and excited at the same time. As you walked, you talked about everything and anything, from your favourite book to your childhood memories. You found yourself sharing things with Spencer that you had never told anyone before, and you couldn’t deny the connection you felt with him.

Spencer was different from anyone you had ever met. He was smart, funny, and kind, but also mysterious in a way that made you want to know more. You couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by him, but also drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“Did I hear you correctly earlier, saying that you’ve written books about the FBI?”

“I have. But I’ve never gone to get them published. They are always murder mystery books. But that’s not really what I write.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up with interest. “Really? What do you mean that’s not what you write?”

“I write typical romance novels. People tend to like them; I mean I’m not famous but I’m not unknown.”

Spencer looked at you with a newfound interest. “Romance novels, huh? That’s interesting. What inspired you make the switch from murder mysteries to romance?”

You shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. “I guess it was just a personal preference. I wanted to write about love, and the idea of giving characters happy endings was really appealing to me.”

Spencer nodded, seeming to understand. “I can see why that would be appealing. It’s nice to have control over what happens in your own little world, even if it’s just in your writing.”

You smiled, feeling grateful for Spencer’s understanding. “Exactly. Plus, I love the idea of creating characters that people can fall in love with. It’s kind of like bring people together in a way, even if it’s just fiction.”

Spencer nodded thoughtfully. “I understand that you can’t control love or your own love story in real life. It takes a lot of skill to create characters that people can connect with on that level.”

“It takes a lot of skill to work for the FBI.” You say with a giggle.

Spencer chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I suppose it does. But I’m just doing my job, like anyone else.”

You shook your head, feeling a sense of admiration for Spencer. “No, what you do is amazing. You and your colleague risk your lives every day to keep people safe. That’s something truly special.”

Spencer looked at you, his eyes softening. “Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot coming from you.”

As you continued to walk, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of closeness with Spencer that you had never felt with anyone before. It was as if he could see right through you, past all your insecurities and doubts, and still accept you for who you were.

As the night wore on, you found yourself slowing down, wanting to savour every moment with Spencer. You were afraid that once the night ended, you would never see him again.

“I’m guessing the case isn’t over yet, so you should probably get back to your hotel so you can get a rest.”

Spencer nodded, seeming to understand. “Yeah, we still have a lot of work to do tomorrow. But I don’t want this night to end just yet.”

You looked up at him, feeling a little shy. “Me neither.”

Spencer smiled, “Then let’s keep walking. I don’t want to say goodbye to you just yet, Y/N.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards his. As you continued to walk, you felt Spencer’s gaze on you, and you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious. “Is everything okay, Spencer?”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “Yeah, I’m just trying to figure something out.”

You looked at him, feeling a little confused. “What do you mean?”

“My friends, the people you saw at the bar, said I should try and not talk about work, and find someone who doesn’t work with us. I thought it was going to be difficult. But then I met you.” Spencer’s voice was low and intense, and you could feel his hot breath on your cheek.

You blushed, feeling a little overwhelmed by his sudden confession. “What are you trying to figure out, Spencer?”

“What this means. I mean I know what it means, kind off. But how someone so perfect, could just be sitting in a bar that I just so happened to go into. I mean I know the chances, it’s just so strange.”

You looked at Spencer, feeling the same way he did. It was as if fate had brought the two of you together, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for it.

“I know what you mean,” you said softly. “It’s like we were meant to meet each other.”

Spencer nodded, looking at you with a mixture of awe and admiration. “I don’t want to let this chance slip away.”

You felt a surge of desire at his words, and without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him. Spencer responded immediately, his lips moving hungrily against yours.

You didn’t want to be cliché, you’re a writer, you’re good with words, but this kiss was magical. It was as though the world around you disappeared, leaving only you and Spencer in your own little bubble of passion and desire. You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you as he deepened the kiss.

As the kiss ended, you looked into Spencer’s eyes, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. You knew that this was just the beginning of something special, and you couldn’t wait to see where it would take you.

“I don’t want this night to end,” you said softly, feeling a little breathless.

Spencer smiled at you, his eyes shining with affection. “Me neither, Y/N. Let’s not end it just yet then. Also, did you know you actually share less germs with someone if you kiss them, rather than shaking their hands?”

You chuckled, feeling a sense of ease with Spencer. “I guess that makes sense. But I don’t think we need an excuse to kiss each other, do we?”

Spencer leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “No, Y/N. We don’t need an excuse.”

“You know for been a member of the FBI and been in a place where you are having a practically rough case, you are pretty trusting.”

“Ahh. You see I work with the BAU, which is the behaviour analysis unit, so I read body language and such. I basically profile people, and you don’t seem like you’d murder or kidnap me. So, yes, I am pretty trusting when I can read someone so well.”

You smiled at Spencer, feeling a sense of jealousy and admiration for his skills. “That’s really cool. I wish I had your ability to read people like that.”

Spencer shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “It’s just something that comes with the job, I guess. But it can be a double-edged sword sometimes. You start to see the worst in people, and it can be hard to trust anyone.”

You looked at him, feeling a sense of sadness at his words. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”

Spencer smiled at you, his eyes softening. “It’s okay, Y/N. I have good people around me, like you, who remind me that there’s still good in the world.”

“You think I’m a good person? You’ve only known me for around 2 hours, and you think I’m a good person. Well, I’m glad I’ve made a good impression on you.”

Spencer chuckled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Y/N, it doesn’t take long to recognise a good person. And you, my dear, are definitely a good person. I can tell by the way you carry yourself, the way you treat others, and the way you make me feel.”

You blushed, feeling a sense of warmth spread throughout your body. “Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot to me.”

Spencer leaned in, his lips hovering over yours. “And I want to you feel even better.”

He kissed you deeply, his hands caressing your body as he pushed you up against the wall. Spencer’s lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat and arousal in their wake. You gasped, feeling a sense of pleasure as he nipped and sucked at your skin.

“I’m sure someone who works with the FBI cannot get public indecency on their record. Do you want to continue this somewhere else, like your hotel room or my apartment?”

Spencer looked up at you, his eyes shining with desire. “My hotel room.”

You nodded, realising that the hotel was only two blocks down. You could feel the lust burning between the two of you, and you couldn’t wait to feel his hands on your body.

You made it to the hotel in no time at all, your hands already exploring each other’s bodies. Spencer’s lips trailed a burning trail of fire down your neck, and you could yourself shudder in his arms.

You pulled open the door to Spencer’s hotel room, turning the lights on as you walked through the doorway. Spencer followed suit; he pulled you closer to him, your hands never leaving your body.

Spencer pulled off your clothes slowly, exploring your body with his eyes. You felt a wave of desire wash over you as he looked at your body, and you wanted nothing more than to feel his hands on you.

Spencer’s lips were basically attached to your neck, and you could feel desire coursing through your body. You could feel his heartbeat thumping against yours, echoing the same rhythm that was currently coursing through your body.

“Do you know people who want to control every aspect of their life, often seek ways to lose control, for other people to control them? A lot of CEOs and bosses will go to professional dominatrixes to help them.”

“What are you saying, Spencer? Are you saying you like to be dominated?” You said in a teasing tone.

He kind of laughed at your comment.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all here. I think you would like to lose control.”

“Is that right?”

Spencer nodded, looking at you with a devilish smirk. “I think you would like to lose control. To know that you are completely at my mercy.”

You gave a short laugh, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, right. Spencer, I don’t think you know me at all.”

“I’m good at reading people. You’re a writer, and I bet that you like to control every aspect of your life. You write the plots, you decide the endings, and you feel that you have complete control over your life.”

You laughed, “You’re right, that’s me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Y/N. And I’m not saying you are wrong for being that way. It’s just that I wonder what you would do if you were completely at the mercy of someone else. Seeing how you like to control everything, I bet you would love for someone to take that control.”

You smirked, biting your lip as you stared at him. “Hmmm, I think you might be on to something there.”

Spencer shook his head, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. “I wonder what you would do if I took control of you.”

“Try me.”

“I would love to try you, Y/N.”

Spencer’s lips claimed yours, and he pushed you down on the bed, his hands roaming over your body greedily. You moaned into his mouth, your body responding to his touch.

You could feel him hardening against you, and you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of you. He pulled of panties, his mouth trailing a line down your body.”

“I want you to know that I’m going to be in control of you, Y/N. And you’re going to like it.”

He paused, “Do you want me to control you?”

You looked at him, your eyes glinting with desire. “Yes.”

Spencer’s eyes were dark with lust, and you could feel yourself getting wetter just from his gaze.

“I want you to know I’m going to do whatever I want to you.” He bit you hard on the neck, and you could feel your body tense with desire.

“And you’re going to let me.”

You nodded, wanting nothing more than his hands on you. He kissed you hard, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You could feel him crawling up your body, his erection rubbing against your wetness.

“You’re going to let me, because you’re going to love it.”

“I will.”

“You’re going to do everything I tell you to.”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to beg me to fuck you.”

“I am?”

“Uh huh. And I am going to make you cum over and over, until you’re begging me to stop.”

“Please, Spencer.”

You gasped as his fingers found your wetness. He pushed two of them inside of you, slowly pumping them in and out. You could feel yourself tightening around him, your hips bucking in sync with his fingers.

His lips trailing a burning trail down your body. He could tell how badly you wanted to cum, he was reading you like a book.

“Beg me.” Spencer’s eyes were dark with lust.

“Please, Spencer. I want to cum”.

“I know you can do better than that. Be a good girl, and tell me how badly you want to cum.”

“I want to come so fucking badly, please. Please, Spencer, let me cum.”

His pace fastened, you moaned at Spencer’s actions and his words. He moved his thumb towards your clit, he pressed down hard. He could feel you tightening even more around him.

You were so close to cuming, the anticipation of your orgasm was almost painful. Your pussy was dripping wet, and you could feel the juices flowing down your legs.

“I want you to cum for me.”

Your mouth dropped open, a loud and crude moan leaving your lips. Spencer’s name followed; you were almost singing it. Spencer couldn’t get enough of this. You looked so beautiful like this; this was all for him and he couldn’t believe he was so lucky to get to see you like this.

“That’s it, let it all go.”

Your orgasm hit hard. His kept nursing you through it, showering you with praises. His eyes kept looking over every inch of your body. The orgasm shook through you, your body shaking with desire. You felt him slide his fingers out of you, and you could feel your body shaking with desire.

He leaned over you, his lips brushing a kiss against your neck. He stood up, he was still fully clothed, and you felt exposed. You lay there, watching him take all his clothes off. It gave you the opportunity to look at his body, which you had already known was amazing, but you could appreciate it even more as you watched him in the dim light. He kicked his pants off and walked towards you.

“Spencer” You panted.

“I love the way you say my name.” He smirked. “Can you stand up for me?”

You gently nodded your head, even though your legs felt a little bit like jelly, you wanted to stand for him. You pushed yourself up off the bed, you stood there, looking at him, your eyebrows shot up when you saw the look on his face. He looked at you like he was going to eat you alive, and that sent a shiver down your spine.

“That was only one of many, but I feel like I deserve a reward. Don’t you?”

You nodded your head once again.

“Okay, I’m glad. Now I want you to be a good girl and get on your knees for me, is that okay?”

You nodded your head, your breath quickening.

“Good girl, now I want you to take my cock out, but don’t touch it.”

You slowly sank to your knees in front of him, watching as his eyes roamed over your body.

He felt himself get harder, the look in your eyes made him feel like the king of the world.

“Take it out.”

You heard him moan in appreciation. You slowly pulled down his boxers, watching as he carefully stepped out. You reached out your hand, wrapping your fingers around him.

“I didn’t say you could touch it just yet, did I?”

“No, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just tell me you won’t do it again.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“Good girl.” He smirked. “Now I want you to put my dick into your mouth.”

You heard him hiss as you took him into your mouth. He kept looking down at you and you could see the lust in his eyes.

You could feel yourself getting wetter, just hearing him moan was enough to drive you wild. He fucked your mouth, and the way he moved in and out, would make anyone cum.

“That’s it baby,” he moaned. “I want you to suck my cock until I cum in your mouth.”

Your heart was racing. You could feel his dick twitching in your mouth.

You ran your tongue over the head and feeling him shudder under your touch.

“Oh yes, just like that.”

“You’re doing so good.” He panted. “I’m so fucking close.”

You tried to take him deeper into your mouth, but it was hard.

“I’m going to cum.” He moaned.

Your mouth filled with his sticky cum. He moaned out loudly, before he pulled himself out of your mouth. You looked up at him, and he smiled down at you.

“You look so beautiful like this. I’m so lucky that I will be able to relive this image over and over again.”

“I want you to lay on the bed. But do not touch yourself.”

You did as you were told. You can’t believe a man this hot was having sex with you, you could barely believe that he knew exactly what to do to you.

He climbed on the bed, his kissed you, his tongue fighting for dominance in your mouth. He started to kiss you all the way down your body, your body felt like it was on fire. His mouth finally landed on your clit, his fingers found their way back to your pussy.

“I love how wet you are.” He moaned. You could feel the vibrations from his mouth against your clit, making the pleasure even more intense.

You were moaning uncontrollably. Your hips were rocking against his face and fingers. You knew you were getting close.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You moaned.

He kept working his mouth against your clit, and his fingers against your pussy. He knew exactly what you needed.

“Come for me baby.” He moaned.

Your back arched, you moaned out his name. He moaned against you, the vibrations adding more to your orgasm. He slowed down as your orgasm slowed down. He gently blew on your clit, causing you to squirm.

He pulled himself up, kissing you passionately on the lips, his tongue exploring your mouth. His hands glided down your body. You were in total bliss, everything about this man was perfect.

As you thought you were actually in heaven, you heard a phone ringing and Spencer got off the bed. He grabbed his phone and walked into his bathroom. He was in there for a few minutes. He walked out with a sombre look on his face.

“I’m so sorry, there’s been a lead in the case, I have to go. You can stay here for the night if you want to, but if you don’t, please leave your number. This can’t be the last time I see you.”

You nodded; you felt a wave of sadness wash over your body.

“I’ll give you my number, I think I’ll head home. I don’t want this to be the last time I see you either.”

You read your number out to Spencer and started to get dressed. He gave you a quick kiss on your cheek and left. You felt hopeful you’d see Spencer again, but it still hurt that you wouldn’t be falling asleep in his arms today.

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straylightdream · 8 days ago

Text

body and soul

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: jeon wonwoo x f.reader

↳ after a terrible day at work there is nothing more he wants then to go on a motorcycle ride with you.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmates au?, non idol au, established relationship

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much fluff, they’re both so incredibly down bad for each other, wonwoo rides a motorcycle (I don’t know if that’s a warning), teasing, smut warning below the cut

𝐚𝐧: this can be read as a one shot but it’s also connected to king of my heart, but you don’t need to read that to understand this story. Thank you @whimsical-whatever so much for helping me figure out this story.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: creampie, wonwoo has breeding kink even though he doesn’t want to admit it, sex outside (but no one is around) sex against a brick wall, lingerie kink, cum play, oral in the shower (him rec), possibly snowballing

Sometimes after a long day Wonwoo likes to go on motorcycle rides to just release stress. Once he met you he realized being around you took all the weight off his shoulder whenever he was stressed. He still absolutely loved riding his bike. He loves when he gets to ride with you sitting behind holding on to him. There is nothing quite like the feeling of him riding while your arms are wrapped tightly around him.

A shitty day at work led him to going straight to your apartment instead of his own. He knew Mingyu was home from work already and his girlfriend was over.

He’s been with you for almost two years now and he doesn’t even bother knocking; he'd just type in his key code you gave him. He finds you sitting at the kitchen table with your laptop in front of you. Even when you weren’t on the clock you were always looking at work related things at home.

“Baby,” he smiles as you look up.

“Hey Wonwoo,” you smile back.

“Can you go on a ride with me?” He doesn’t want to think about work, he just wants to not think at all and ride his bike with you.

“Yeah, let me change real quick.” You’re dressed in a small pair of lounge shorts that aren’t suitable for riding.

He sets his helmet down on your coffee table and sits down on your big couch near the window. He spends a few minutes browsing through his phone and letting Mingyu know he has the apartment to himself tonight. He doesn’t plan on sleeping in his own bed. He much rather sleeping here with you.

You walk out into the living room dressed in joggers and a jacket. Holding the bike helmet Wonwoo got you. Very early on in your relationship he bought you your own motorcycle helmet. He loved being able to go on rides with you.

He stands up and grabs your hand leading you out of the apartment.

Riding down the street your arms are wrapped tightly around his waist as your head rests against his back. You feel at ease just being with him like this.

Something about Wonwoo always makes you feel like you’re whole. That something deep inside of you was missing before him. If soulmates are real you know he’s yours.

Before him you had never ridden on a motorcycle and now it’s one of your favorite ways to travel with him.

The first drop of water you felt left you confused. Glancing, you saw the dark clouds above you. You didn’t bother looking at the weather but it hasn’t rained recently.

Within moments it starts to pour. Your outfit was not fit for the rain.

“What the fuck,” Wonwoo says loud enough for you to hear over his bike.

He sees some buildings that look closer. Quickly he pulls his bike into a covered dark all that’s absolutely empty. He helps you off the bike and unbuckles your helmet. You pull it off handing it to him. You can’t help but feel cold with how wet you got in that unexpected downpour.

“Baby I didn’t think it was supposed to rain.” He reaches up pushing the rain for your cheeks.

“It’s okay.”

“I think we’re stuck here for a while. It looks like all these businesses are closed.”

You can’t help but shake a little. You definitely weren’t dressed for the rain and your joggers you wore are wet and sticking to your skin. “Baby I’m sorry,” he takes your helmet from your hands and sets it on the back of his bike. He wastes no time pulling you close to his body. “Let me warm you up.” He holds you close, rubbing your body. He leans his head down resting his face against your neck. He doesn’t kiss your neck but his lips gently brush the sensitive spot on your neck that always turns you on. A soft gasp passes your lips.

“I didn’t mean to touch there,” he whispers against the sensitive spot. His large hands continue to rub your back as you hold him close. His breath keeps hitting the sensitive side of your neck turning you on. He’s managing to get you wet without trying.

Without thinking you grind your hips forward hoping for some sort of friction.

A soft moan passes your lips. “Does someone like it when I’m close to her neck?” He says with his lips ghosting your sensitive spot.

“Fuck-“

“You know we’re away from anyone who can see. We’re behind a building facing a forrest.” You know exactly what he’s insinuating. And at the moment you don’t care that you could possibly get caught. You just want Wonwoo to fuck you.

“Baby,” you whimper. With his fingers tangled in your hair he walks you back to the brick wall behind you. His hands protect your head and he gently pushes you against the wall.

“Are you going fuck me against this wall?”

He swallows staring at you with lust filled eyes, “fuck I want to.”

“What happened to your breeding kink being your only thing that makes you kinky?” You tease.

“Does it me fucking you against this wall make me kinky?”

“I think so,” you smile.

“Also it’s not a breeding kink.” He says between kisses against your jaw.

“You’re obsessed with cumming inside me.” You give him a smile.

“I’m not trying to get you pregnant though?” His eyes narrow at you.

“We can agree to disagree,” you crash your lips into his once again.

Pulling away from you he makes quick work by pushing off your joggers. He unbuckled belt and pushes down his jeans and boxers just below his ass. His hard cock slaps against his stomach. If you weren’t out in broad daylight you would get down on your knees and suck the life out of him.

“Are you going to leave my underwear on?” You notice that he left you in your pink thong.

“Pull it to the side for me,” he says as he pumps himself a few times.

“Are we going to talk about your lingerie kink?” You have no problem with him fucking you while you’re still wearing your panties. It actually turns you on to for some reason. Maybe you also have a lingerie kink.

“You’re being extra sassy today,” he steps closer, lifting your leg.

“What can I say I get turned on when you get flustered.” You pull your panties to the sides.

He thrust into you causing a gasp to pass your lips.

Pressed up against the wall he has your leg under his arm. This isn’t the easiest angle to work with, but he’s not gonna let it stop him. In the two years you’ve been together you’ve never had sex outdoors like this where someone could see you if they went behind the buildings where the alley was. You’ve definitely had a sex in the back seat of Wonwoo’s car before, but that’s different from this. Something about this turns you on more than you ever thought it could. The angle he’s thrusting into you has his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit.

Your head leans back resting against the brick wall taking in the sensation. Leaning forward you sloppily kiss him. His thrusts are quicker than normal. Ramming up into you over and over. You’re pretty sure he’s nudging your cervix with each thrust. Covering your mouth you try your hardest not scream his name. You might be alone out here, but if people hear you screaming and moaning they might come see what is happening.

“Fuck-“ you whimper.

“You feel tighter than normal,” he moans. Your hand talons into his shoulder holding on to him for dear life. The way he’s thrusting into you hitting the perfect spot has your toes curling. His pelvis continues to rub your clit leaving you gasping.

The sound of the echoing rain is helping to drown out your moans. You can’t keep quiet.

“I’m close,” you whine.

“Please come with,” he moans.

A white hot wave washes over you. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair pulling him closer to you. He paints your walls white and continues to slowly thrust up into you riding out his high. His lips are leaving sloppy kisses against the sensitive skin in your neck.

“I don’t have anything to clean you up with,” he says softly as he’s still snug inside you.

“It’s okay it’s not the first I’m going to be walking around with you cum inside me.” You’ve had sex a handful times in bathrooms at parties the boys have thrown leaving you in this same predicament.

“We can take a hot shower when we get back to your place and I’ll clean you up.”

The rain finally let up and after an hour of huddling against Wonwoo and talking it was finally safe to ride back to your apartment.

He kept his word and the moment you were inside he dragged you off to take a hot shower together.

You shower couldn’t even start innocently. The moment the water was warm enough you were on your knees in front of him. He gently held your hair away from your face as your took him in your mouth as much as he would fit. You hand rest on his thigh while the other plays with his balls. You know exactly what to do to make him fall apart quickly.

You look up at him through your lashes. He looks beautiful in his lust filled haze. “Baby pull off if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth,” he moans.

You continue your motion. You were never a fan of giving someone head let alone swallowing before you met him. Now going down on him is one of your favorite things to do. Glancing up and looking for see his stomach muscles tighten letting you know he’s on the brink. His grip on your hair tightens and he moans your name loudly. He fills your mouth with his salty release. You release him from your mouth with a pop. Without a second thought you swallow everything he gave you.

He helps you to your feet and crashes his lips into yours not caring if he taste himself on you. He holds your face with both hands.

“I love you so much,” he says against your lips.

“I love you too.”

“Let me clean you up and wash your hair.”

He keeps his promise from the alley and cleans your body before he’s standing behind you massaging your strawberry shampoo into your hair.

“Wonwoo would you ever think about moving out of your apartment with Mingyu?” You asked him the question that has been on your mind for a while.

“It depends, are you asking me to move in with you?” His fingers are still massaging your scalp.

“I mean I live alone and we could set your computer up in my small office. I don’t mind working in the kitchen when I get to work from home.” This feels odd you aren’t facing each other while you’re having this conversation. You didn’t plan on talking about this in the shower but this has been constantly on your mind.

“Have you been thinking about this a lot?” It’s almost as if he can read your mind. “Baby turn around and rinse your hair.”

Stepping away from him you let the warm water wash the shampoo away from your hair. “Well yeah. Also don’t you feel like at some point Mingyu is going to want to live with his girlfriend?” You work on getting the shampoo out of your hair.

“Probably.” He seems so calm.

“Do you not want to move in now? We could always discuss this later.” You suddenly feel anxious that he’s not ready. Maybe you’re thinking too far ahead. You step out from the water and step closer to him where he’s holding your conditioner.

He gives you a smile pushing some wet hair behind your ear. “Baby, of course I want to move in with you. It would be nice for us to have a place just for us.”

“Okay I would like for us to live together,” you smile.

“Does that mean we always get to sleep naked?” He gives you a goofy smile. Of course that’s one of his first questions.

“Of course. Does that mean I’m going to wake up to you fucking me all the time?” You gave permission to Wonwoo very early on in your relationship that if wanted to start having sex with you while you’re asleep he can. There isn’t anything quite like waking up to him pushing into you from behind while you sleep.

“Obviously, now turn around so I can finish your hair.”

Things with Wonwoo are always easy. For some reason they always have been. He’s your person, it’s almost as if you were made for each other. You’re excited for your next step in your relationship and you can’t wait to see what the future holds.

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #wonwoo imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #wonwoo x you #jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo x you #wonwoo insert reader #wonwoo fanfiction #jeon wonwoo fanfiction #my writing #SVT #all for you #king of my heart #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut

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verynormalazulashengrottoenjoyer · 2 months ago

Text

Pining Thoughts

Oh that poor, unfortunate soul. Azul just can't seem to get you out of his head, now can he? And trust, it's driving him absolutely insane.

Fluff! Gender neutral y/n. About 8kish words?

Canon story event context!!: this story builds off of and directly branches off from the visit to the Atlantica Memorial Museum at the end of Book 3, and the conversation the prefect and Azul have when Azul goes to return the photo. The lines that I use at the beginning are pulled directly from the entwst translated dialogue! Basically, he takes what you said to heart, a lil too much

~~~

“You’re amazing as it is, even without stealing anyone else’s powers.”

“What…?”

“Your incredible diligence is so rare, it left the headmage at a loss.”

“You…you think?”

“Heh…you needn’t try so hard to butter me up.”

~~~

It had been about a month since that trip down to the Atlantica Memorial Museum to return Azul’s childhood photo. About a month since that conversation had taken place between you and Azul, away from the rest of the group. You two had walked side by side, as Azul had poured his heart out to you.

“The Sea Witch never hid her past misdeeds. She worked hard to restore her reputation, and earned the people's respect that way. I kept saying I wanted to be like her… but in the end, I couldn’t accept my own past. I kept rejecting it.”

Azul hunches over his unfinished paperwork, remembering those vulnerable words that spilled from his mouth. He runs his hand through his already messy, light gray, wavy hair, letting out a deep, heavy sigh.

“…How stupid.” he mutters.

How could he have said all that to you? Seriously, what in his right mind compelled him to say something so…so…weak. To you.

But, in actuality, that part of the whole interaction consumed the least of his mind, what really had Azul in turmoil was your response.

Amazing..? Incredible…? My diligence…?

Those sweet compliments rang in his mind, day and night those two sentences replayed over and over in his mind, the way you looked at him with full sincerity in your eyes as you said it. Your voice contained no malice, no ulterior motives…only compassion.

That’s something he wasn’t used to.

And it was driving him insane.

You’d been so kind to him through it all. The overblot. God, he could’ve killed you. And yet here you were, still smiling at him, complimenting him, treating him like he was…normal. Like a friend.

Azul’s purple bow tie of his dorm uniform was undone, hanging over his neck loosely. The top button of his white dress shirt was unbuttoned. His black vest and coat were thrown messily over the back of his chair as he sits at his desk in the VIP Room of the Mostro Lounge, and his black fedora was thrown on the floor next to him. Azul closes his eyes as he leans back in his chair, tilting his head back and stretching his legs out under his desk.

So what if you had given him a few compliments? It was just some words. People get compliments all the time. It didn’t mean anything.

And still, he could not get them out of his head. He could not get you out of his head.

Why??? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?? Azul let’s out another deep sigh as he opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, trying to push the thoughts away. But one thought manages to slip through:

… are they thinking about me too?

“Hah…” Azul let’s out a breathy laugh and softly shakes his head, “What a stupid thought. Of course they're not. This is me overthinking… that’s all.”

And with that final push away from his thoughts, Azul straightens up and looks back down at his work, picking up his pen as he continues his tasks. But as he writes, his hand gliding across the paper, he just can’t shake that underlying feeling…a tingling sensation in his chest…that always seems to linger when he thinks of you.

…

“AWWWWW YEAH. I AM STARVING!!!!”

Azul jumps upright in his seat, pulled from his thoughts. He knew that voice, it was the voice of Grim, that cat-like monster, or whatever the hell he is. He seemed to have just entered the Mostro Lounge.

That damn cat’s always so obnoxiously loud, Azul thought.

Suddenly, Azul’s heart drops, his face turning ghastly pale.

Wait… Grim. That must mean… the prefect is here as well.

Azul drops his pen to the floor, rushing over to the little window of the VIP lounge, moving the curtain just enough to see a sliver of the general dining area of the Mostro Lounge. Sure enough, there you were with Grim, along with the other first-years you were usually around, Ace and Deuce.

Azul pulls back from the curtain quickly, looking around for his vest and jacket. In a frenzy, he throws them on, as well as ties and straightens out his bow tie. He slips on his gloves. His heart pounds.

After somewhat composing himself, he opens the door of the VIP Lounge, making his way over to you and your group. On his way, he catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the large fish tank wall of the lounge, noticing a small piece of hair sticking up. He quickly goes to brush it down with his hand. In the reflection, he can see his hand shaking. He sharply turns his head away from the reflection. Come on Azul. Pull yourself together.

Azul finally reaches the group of first-years, clearing his throat.

“Why, if it isn’t the most famous first-years of Night Raven College! Gracing us with your presence here at my humble Mostro Lounge today, are we?”

“Hi!” You say cheerfully to Azul, smiling and waving at him, stepping a foot closer.

Azul stops in his tracks, freezing as though someone held a remote to him and pressed the pause button.

“H-hello!” Azul’s voice cracks as he pushes out a greeting. “Y/N, I’m glad to see you’re- um- doing well!”

You nod slightly, “Mhm, yes. You too.”

Azul smiles, letting out an awkward, nervous chuckle, looking at you for a…slightly uncomfortable amount of time?

“...Um…think we could get seated? Please?”

“OH! Oh!! Yes!! Of course! Right this way, right this way” Azul jumps a bit, your request snapping him out of his trance. Finally, he moves from his place, waving frantically for you and your group to sit at a booth. “Ahem, might I get you some menus?”

“Please, thank you.” You respond politely. Azul quickly grabs four menus, placing them on the table. “I’ll have one of my employees come over to act as your waiter immediately” Azul says, still only looking at you. Now that you think about it, he hasn’t even glanced at the others. “E-enjoy!” He exclaims.

Oh, but he’s not done making a fool of himself yet.

Awkwardly, he continues to linger at the edge of your table. After a couple seconds, he tentatively asks “Um…I trust I’ll be seeing you in club this week, Y/N?”

“Uhh…yeah. Probably.” You nod.

Azul smiles and bows his head quickly, backing up a bit “E-excellent, see you then”. Suddenly, he stumbles as he walks back, nearly tripping over the ornamental rug on the floor. The stumble causes his already slipping glasses to fall to the floor.

I have GOT to move that rug.

“O-oh! Are you okay?” You lift up a hand as his glasses clatter on the ground.

“I’m fine! I’m perfectly fine! Worry not of me! Enjoy your meal!” Azul spits out, letting out a small, constrained laugh, reaching his hand down to pick up the glasses. He hastily places them on his nose, resulting in them resting in a crooked position on his face. Smiling awkwardly and taking one final, small bow to you, he scurries away back into the VIP Lounge.

…

Silence suffocates the table.

“…What the fuck was that?” Ace says, breaking the silence.

“He was…really nice?” Deuce, looking utterly confused.

“More like…really weird. Why was he being so awkward?? Isn’t his whole gimmick… like… being smooth?”

You look at Ace and Deuce, nodding in agreement, “Yeah…that was kinda odd I’m not gonna lie…” you shrug “I dunno”. It was kinda cute though, you think to yourself. Of course, you’d never say that out loud. Especially not to these three.

You definitely liked Azul. But he definitely does not like you back. All that man has feelings for are the scrolls in his desk. That’s the conclusion you had come to, anyways.

“I DON’T care. I just want food. Come on, come on! Figure out what you want so we can order already!!!” Grim says, pushing the menu into your face.

“OKAY, okay. Damn.” You snatch the menu from Grim.

~~~

Meanwhile, Azul’s sweating bullets in the VIP Lounge.

What the HELL was I doing out there???!!??!

Azul sits in the corner of the room, his head in his hands.

I was so…weird!! What if they dislike me now?? Oh god… how humiliating… they'll avoid me now! They're going to avoid me! No no no… maybe I could trick them into signing a contract that’ll make them not avoid me? Reverse restraining order? NO. Azul! What are you THINKING?

Azul buries his face in his clammy hands, which are now ungloved. His glasses are strewn on the floor next to him as he sits in a tight ball. If only he hadn’t left his octopot in his dorm room. He’d be curled up in there right now.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Azul’s head shoots up to see none other than Jade Leech standing at the doorway.

“How many times have I told you to KNOCK, Jade.” Azul says angrily. “Didn’t I take away your key???”

“Haha…of course…my apologies. And the key is irrelevant”. Jade puts on his sharp-toothed grin, indiciating he’s really anything but sorry. “I just couldn’t help but address that spectacle you put on out there. Quite the show, really.”

“QUIET! I-I..!” Azul tries to push out an explanation, but comes up empty handed, throwing his head back into the palms of his hands. He entangles his hands in his hair, staring down into his lap.

“Mmm…who would've thought. What used to be that chubby little octopus has a crush now! Why, they grow up too fast.”

Now this catches Azul’s attention. Not only does his head shoot up, his whole body lifts as he pulls himself to a standing pushing. “CRUSH? Nonsense! I don’t have a crush! What a…a…a childish idea Jade!”

“Well, it appeared that way to me.” Jade says, voice unwavering. Jade was so calm…almost condescending (average Jade demeanor).

Azul waves his hands frantically, damn near throwing a tantrum, “And WHAT in your right mind would make you think that? Huh? Because I was a bit clumsy?” Azul’s eyes are wide as his pale face turns red. From anger? Or embarrassment? Maybe both?

“Okay! I’ll admit it! I wasn’t as put together as I usually am out there. I just…was taken by surprise! But it has nothing to do with…any…romantic feelings…” Azul’s voice fades away as he turns his head away from Jade, his hands falling down to his sides. His face bright red, he looks incredibly conflicted, almost ashamed.

“Azul. I’ve known you for quite a long time. It truly is useless attempting to hide how you feel from me. You do understand this, yes?”

Azul maintains his gaze away from Jade for a few seconds. Then, he lets out a sigh, as he tentatively turns his head back to Jade.

And oh, and does that boy look defeated.

The best way to describe the look in Azul’s eyes is…longing. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly. The bags under his eyes are enough to tell Jade the toll this whole ordeal has taken on him.

Azul walks over to his desk, falling into the chair behind it. He puts his elbows on the table, once more placing his face in the palm of his hands as he leans forward.

“Ok. Alright. You’re right Jade. Yes? Does that satisfy you and your nosiness? I like them, Jade. You win.” Azul winces slightly at those last couple words. Hearing them come from his own mouth was painful.

Jade finally steps away from the doorway and takes a seat in front of Azul’s desk, opposite him.

“Huh. I’m surprised. I thought it would’ve taken more than that to get you to confess” Jade smirks as he sits upright in the chair. Looking smug, even.

With no energy left to combat Jade’s remarks, Azul waves his hand in defeat, the other hand remaining on his face to prop his head up as he looks down at the desk.

“And why? Why go so out of your way to put me through this…” Azul’s eyebrows furrow once more “this”. Azul’s chest feels heavy, and it’s difficult to breathe. Not giving Jade a chance to respond, Azul lifts his head, and in a frustrated tone, he begins a tangent.

“Huh? Well? Now what Jade? What do you propose I do with these… feelings?” That last word has a sharpness to it, a fond disliking. “This confession serves no purpose! They obviously doesn’t like me back, Jade. You understand what that would do to my reputation? To be rejected? By the prefect of all people? Shit, they've got more influence than me at this school. They could destroy me” Though I’d never admit that to their face “I… I can’t lose her.”

I know enough about risk. I’ve made my fair share of deals, I’ve signed my fair share of contracts. To put something so…precious…on the line for these stupid emotions. It’s simply not an option.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What do you mean, Jade?” Azul breaks away from his thoughts, looking up to meet Jade’s eyes, voice dripping in frustration. .

“I wouldn’t be so sure about they're feelings, Azul. Have you asked?”

“N-no! No! I couldn’t! …Jade, are you suggesting that they may…” Azul’s eyes are wide, waiting expectantly for an answer to leave Jade’s mouth.

“A moment, Azul” Jade lifts his hands, indicating the need to slow down, “All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t be so sure. I never said that they do. That’s something you’d need to figure out.”

At this, Azul drops his head once more, shaking his head, “Jade. I can’t.”

“...Fine, just let them get snatched up by some other man then” Jade states dismissively.

“…What?”

“What? You think they'll wait around forever for you?”

….

“It’s merely a suggestion Azul. Furthermore, I recommend you take action fast. They've got quite a few friends you know. On the good side of many. They're quite… compassionate” Azul flinches at this remark. Jade notices, and lets out a small chuckle “Though, I’m sure you know that quite well already. So, I do hope you are not taken by surprise when someone…how do they say… ‘beats you to the punch’.”

Azul’s face turns ghastly white.

“Anyways Azul” Jade lifts himself from the chair, straightening out his coat, “I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of…work… to do. I’d hate to get in the way. Good day”. He shows that sharp-toothed grin once more, looking quite pleased with himself as he turns to walk out the door.

Azul sits in silence, those previous words still ringing in his mind.

Beats me…to the punch? Another man?

Jade’s shoes click on the floor as he approaches the door. He opens it, but stops to leave Azul with some final words of suggestion…

“Might I suggest, a gift?”

“…a gift?” Azul squeaks out. He lifts his eyes, if only slightly, to look at Jade. His entire body feels heavy, as though he hadn’t slept in weeks. Because he really hadn’t.

Jade nods, “Precisely. A gift. A physical manifestation of your…’appreciation’”.

Azul blankly stares at Jade.

“Again, it’s merely a suggestion. Do what you will with it.”

With that, Jade closes the door, and with a click, it shuts.

And so, Azul is alone once more, left with his thoughts.

A gift huh… Azul pulls out his phone to glance at the time. A gift… I might just have enough time…yes…perhaps this…this could work…?

~~~

The setting sun shines through the windows onto the deck of cards in front of you. You and Idia, the fiery-haired third year, sit across from each other as you idly chat after school in the typical classroom of the weekly Board Game Club meeting. The room buzzes with chatter as other students converse among themselves in their respective groups. You always feel at ease in the comfortable and laid back environment of the club. But… it’s missing something today.

“Honestly dude…One Piece is just too long. I do NOT have time to watch all that.”

“It’s not even that long, what do you mean??”

“Girl isn’t it like over a thousand episodes??”

“Woah” Idia puts up his hand “First of all, I am NOT a girl. I’d consider myself more of a, heh, sigma male.”

“...No fucking way you just said that shit seriously bro”.

“You’re just mad you’re not a sigma male”.

“I don't want to be though???”

“Dude, just shut up and listen, One Piece is freakin’ awesome. Literally, it’s gotta be in my Top 3! I guess the pacing could use some work, but when you look at it from an overall picture…”

Idia’s voice seems to fade away as you glance at your phone. It’s ten minutes past the start of today’s club meeting.

I wonder where Azul is…he’s usually here by now. You shake your head slightly, brushing the fleeting thought from your mind. It shouldn’t matter to me anyways. He probably wouldn’t even notice if I wasn’t here. You remember the short interaction you had earlier that day at the Mostro Lounge. It almost seemed like…he wanted to get away from us…from me?

And still, you can’t shake that heavy feeling in your heart knowing you’d have to wait another week. What a childish feeling, to be upset over not not getting to spend a couple hours at your college club with a boy. But you couldn’t help it. You’d have to wait another week to sit and converse with the gray-haired housewarden. The way his blue eyes lock with your own as he rests his chin on the palm of his hand, studying your face as his pink lips curl into a subtle smile as you tell him about your day. The way his glasses slowly slip down the bridge of his nose as he lets out a small, soft laugh, and nods, acknowledging the words and emotions that spill from your mouth, the way-

“Dude, are you good?”

“...Huh?”

Idia still sits across from the table, staring at you, genuinely confused “Why’re you shaking your head? Are you really that against watching One Piece?

You stare at Idia for a moment, before you let out a chuckle and shake your head once more, looking down at the stack of cards, “No, no. Sorry Idia. Um, I just got distracted for a sec, I was thinking about something off topic”. Clearing your throat, you straighten your back as you reach for the cards.

“I’ll probably watch it one day man. Just not anytime soon”.

Just before your hands hit the cards, the door to the classroom swings open. At the door is none other than the boy that you had just managed to push out of your mind, Azul Ashengrotto.

Damn. Were his ears ringing or something?

Azul is clearly disheveled. The usually put together man has hair sticking up in some places, and hair sticking to his forehead due to sweat in other places. The coat to his school uniform is nowhere to be seen, only wearing the signature white shirt, black pants, and black and white striped tie of the Night Raven College Uniform. He holds his light purple vest in his hands, indicating his status as an Octavinelle dorm member. His glasses are crooked on his nose.

As soon as he bursts through the door, his eyes land on you. The eye contact you share is brief, as he immediately pulls his gaze away, attempting to brush his hair down and straighten out his clothes.

“Hey man. Took ya long enough” Idia remarks.

You clear your throat as you shoot Azul a smile. “Mhm. We saved you a seat”. You pat the seat next to you.

“O-oh!” Azul looks at your hand as it pats the area next to you. “That’s…quite considerate. Thank you prefect”. Azul places his vest behind the chair as he takes his seat next to you, continuing to avoid eye contact.

How the HELL am I going to do this…? God, I can’t even look at them.

You look at Azul one final time before you turn your attention back to Idia. “Alright, I’ll deal”.

After about half an hour of playing a variety of card games, you turn to Azul once more. He has yet to speak a word. “Azul? You wanna play?”

“No!” he exclaims immediately, “Ahem…” he clears his throat, regaining his composure, “N-no thank you. I’ve chosen to observe today. Yes. To observe. I’d like to study your techniques in order to improve mine. Success doesn’t happen on its own, you know.”

Nice save Azul, he thinks to himself. Truth is, he’s too scared to play in fear of you seeing how much his hands are shaking due to his nerves.

I don’t think I’d even be able to hold a card right now.

“...Chat is this real?” Idia asks.

“Yo chat is this real?” You add in.

“...what?” Azul asks blankly.

What the FUCK does “chat is this real?” mean?

“He fr doesn’t wanna play? Azul? The most competitive person in the club? The most competitive person in ALL OF NRC, basically?” Idia questions, sounding genuinely surprised.

Azul stutters in his response, “I’m-I’m studying your techniques. So that I may assure victory the next time we play! Do not judge my methods of success Shroud!”

“...Whatever floats your boat dude” Idia responds in a bored tone, letting the topic go.

You take this chance to jump into the conversation, as you turn your body to face Azul, “It’s okay, you and I can play next time. You could put your studied techniques to use then” you smile sweetly at him as you add in that last bit.

Azul nods, his face going red as he feels it burning up, “Yes…I’d very much like that”.

You and Azul look at each other, if not only for 1 or 2 seconds, but somehow, it feels as though you two are the only ones in the room. Saying nothing, your smiles remain on your faces, as you look into each other’s eyes.

Huh, his eyes really are pretty. They kinda look like…the ocean? Hah…quite fitting, I guess.

…

“Normie shit”

“Huh?” You break eye contact as you turn to look at Idia, pulled from your trance.

Idia rolls his eyes, and in an annoyed tone, states, “Ugh. Nothing. Can you just deal the cards already? You’ve been holdin’ em’, like, basically forever now”.

“Oh… yeah. Sure. Sorry.”

And with that, you set up another game. You two continue on with your card games, while you talk about fnaf or some shit idk this part isn’t really important to the story so just imagine you’re like arguing about fnaf lore, that’s something ya'll would prob do. Anyways, while you’re talking about nonsensical stuff…

Azul’s heart pounds through it all, his throat feeling dry. He watches the minutes go by on the clock, each click of the minute hand making his heart lurch. Just gotta ask them… You’ve got this.

I’ve got this?

~~~

The clock hits 8:00pm, and people begin to shuffle out of the classroom, heading back to their dorms for the night.

You say your goodbyes to Idia. He says he’s gotta make it in time for the Final Fantasy dungeon before it closes or something, to be honest, you don’t know half of the stuff he talks to you about (smile and nod smile and nod), so Idia grabs his stuff and quickly heads back to his dorm.

Azul lingers as the rest of the students filter out, leaving just you and him alone in the room. Yeah, you two are alone. Perfect…right?

“You heading back to your dorm, Azul?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He nods. “…yes.”

You nod, grabbing your bag and your phone, “Well then…I’ll see you soon? Next week probably, right? For club?

“Um..yes. Of course” Azul shuffles in place. His responses make it sound as though he is also prepared to leave, but his actions seem to say otherwise.

Okayyyy…?

“Um. Well then…!” You leave him with one final smile before you head towards the door, your light footsteps echoing throughout the silent room.

Azul watches your back as you move towards the door. No. You were about to leave. He can’t waste this chance. It’s now or never. He can’t let you slip through his grasp. With conviction, Azul quickly takes a few steps forward, reaching out his hand.

“W-wait!” His fingers wrap around your upper arm. His hands are so…cold. Are they always like this?

You jump a bit at the feeling, immediately stopping in your tracks as you turn slightly to look at him, a look of surprise on your face.

“Why’d you…?” Your heart stops not only at his freezing touch, but at the look in his eyes. His eyes are wide and expectant, as though he’s pleading with you not to go.

“Y/N…could you…meet me at the VIP Room of the Mostro Lounge? Around…10? I… I um…I have something to give you….if that's alright…”

“Something to give me?” You now turn to face him completely, your heart pounding. You can practically hear the beat of it in your ears. Can he hear it too? “What are you gonna give me?” He has yet to let go of your arm.

“You’ll see when I give it to you. It’s…it’s nothing much! It’s only due payment. For…for helping with my…overblot.” Azul looks away, shame falling over his face as he remembers that incident. “I can’t have me being in debt to you, you know” His eyes fall back onto you, and he notices that he’s still gripping your arm.

“O-oh!” He pulls his arm back quickly as it shrinks into his chest. “Sorry!” He clears his throat “… Um… so… will I be seeing you tonight?” That last phrase drips in desperation.

You feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach.

“Will I be seeing you tonight…?” That sounded oddly…no. No. Of course not. You already knew he didn’t think about you that way. Don’t get ahead of yourself Y/N.

You nod. “Sure…okay. Yeah...I’m gonna head back to my dorm to change, then I'll go over to the Lounge…is that okay?”

“Yes!!!” Azul says, a little too enthusiastically. Once more, he clears his throat. Man, how many times does a man need to clear his throat? “I mean- certainly. I’ll see you then”. Azul nods, before he turns on his heel and basically runs out the door.

…

Did that just happen? You stand in the exact same place Azul left you in. You lift your hand slowly to touch the place on your arm that Azul had wrapped his fingers around. You could still feel the chill that ran up your arm from his cold touch. Did he just…invite me to the dorm tonight? You touch your face, you feel light headed, your skin feels hot, your heart pounds.

Oh shit.

~~~

Now in casual clothes, you knock on the door of the VIP Lounge. Your hand shakes as you knock one, two, three times. Almost immediately after the third knock, the door swings open.

“Y/N!”

You almost fall back in surprise. “Oh my God!”, you stumble back a bit, as Azul suddenly stands inches away from your face.

“S-sorry!” Azul puts his hand up, about to grab you to stop you from falling, but stops just centimeters away from your skin. “Uh…” he puts his hand down quickly. “Sorry, I was just…close to the door. Ahem.” Azul steps aside, gesturing for you to enter the room. “Come in…please.”

That “please”... why did it sound a little like…he was begging? No. No no no. It was just your imagination. What is up with you and your imagination today?

As you walk into the room, Azul closes the door behind you. Studying his back, you take note of his attire. He remains in his black slacks and white button up dress shirt only, the top two buttons undone, revealing just a bit of his collarbone. He looks quite casual now. Definitely a change from his normal presentation. He really does have a nice figure. You think to yourself. Of course he does, he’s worked for it. Like everything else he has.

Azul quickly makes his way over to the other side of his desk after closing the door, walking straight past you, and he begins to rummage around in his drawer hastily. He has yet to say a word to you. Just as you’re about to say something, he presents you with something. Suddenly, he has pulled out…a bubble?

No. Not just a bubble. You take a step forward to get a closer look, “Azul, what is…” your eyes widen as you take a better look at the round item Azul has presented to you in the palms of his hands.

It was a clear, crystalized water bubble, and at the center of it lay the most beautiful conch shell you’d ever seen. This shell, glimmering in the crystallized water of the bubble, reflected the soft light of the VIP Lounge, making it seem as though it were glowing. Held in place by the crystallization of the water, the shell was on display perfectly in the center, as though it were on a pedestal. But, even more notable, was the color of this shell: It was an azure-blue, the same color as…something that seemed very, very familiar.

“This…is for you.”

“What?”

“It’s for you.”

“For…me?”

Azul’s hands shake as they begin to fall down towards the desk, taking the crystalized shell along with them. Rapidly, coming out in a string of words, Azul begins to speak, “If-if you don’t like it, you are under no obligation to accept it prefect! I will find some other way to repay you! What would you prefer? If you could provide me a list, I’d be more than happy to-”

“Azul. It’s…it’s, really, really pretty.”

His voice halts, and his face twitches. His eyes flicker up to meet yours,“…it is?”

Carefully, you pick up the bubble from his hands. As your hands slip under the bubble, you’re once again faced with the freezing sensation of Azul’s hands, as the back of your hands slide against the palms of his. Gently, you lift the bubble to your face, the light from the room causing the color of the conch in the water to reflect onto your face and eyes, creating a soft, blue tone.

Azul admires you as you study the conch. Oh, is he absolutely mesmerized by you being…well…mesmerized.

“H-how…? How did you get this?”

“...I made it.”

“You WHAT?” You say in disbelief, your eyes widening.

The surprise in your voice boosts Azul’s ego a bit, and he straightens up at this. “Hehe… quite. I made it. It’s actually a shell from the Atlantica Memorial Museum. I thought that it would be…appropriate…for the occasion…so I took a short trip down in the ocean for it. I thought that…it might have a little more worth if it was actually connected to a…shared experience of ours…” his voice trails off as the last little bit falls from his lips.

You look at him, genuinely confused. With your eyebrows furrowed, a string of questions leaves your mouth, “Huh? What do you mean? Occasion? Shared experience?”

“Well…” Azul takes a deep breath in, and a shaky breath out. “Those words… that you said to me…you told me I was amazing… that I had incredible diligence…during our walk outside the museum. Such kind words, for someone like me?” Azul's gaze falls to the ground, as his face begins to heat up once more in embarrassment. He awaits a response from you.

…

“Did I?”

Azul's jaw nearly drops in disbelief and his head shoots up to meet your eyes. “Y-you mean to say…you don’t remember?????”

“Honestly…no?”

At this, Azul nearly crumbles from the pressure and humiliation, “O-oh… I’m… um…apologies prefect…I just assumed you would remember. Oh dear, forget what I said, please-”

“No! …I mean. Whatever I said, I know I meant it. I might not remember saying it, but I’d never lie to you Azul. Your diligence is incredible. I see the way you work. You really are amazing. I admire you. Really.”

You set the conch down on his desk with a clink, and you run a finger over it, avoiding eye contact with Azul, gazing down at the bubble.

“I’m really, really happy you gave this to me Azul.” You look up at him, directly in the eyes. He’s frozen in place, taking in each and every one of your words.You stay silent for a couple seconds, before the next words fill the room’s stifling silence, “Did you notice… that the conch is the same color as your eyes?” You look back down at the bubble on the table, tenderly pulling it into the palms of your hands. You hold it up to Azul’s eye level. “Yes. Exactly the same” A small smile spreads across your lips. “Thank you, Azul”.

They…they like it?

Azul’s heart pounds. He feels as though he might just pass out. The knot in his chest feels so tight, he can’t breathe. God, he’s practically bursting at the seams. He can’t do it anymore. He can’t hold back. He needs to tell you. He needs to do this. Now. Right now.

Reaching his hands out, slowly, almost hesitantly, he softly grabs your wrists, one wrist in each hand. He lets go of one, grabbing the conch and gently setting it down on the table once more.

“Y/N.”

Your heart lurches as he says your name. Oh how you love the way he says your name.

You don’t say anything in response. You just stare at him. Your throat feels dry and itchy.

“I….”

Azul’s voice trails off…he contemplates.

Taking a deep breath in, Azul asks you a simple, but crucial question, “I need to be honest with you. Can…can I be honest with you? Please…?” Azul lets a hint of pleading, a hint of yearning, roll off of his tongue.

You can only nod in response. It’s a small, slow nod. You don’t break eye contact. Not once.

His voice chokes, “I…” and he softly shakes his head, pulling his hands away from your wrists as he places one hand to his chest, and the other falls limply to his side. He quietly gulps, parting his lips slightly to take a small breath before he speaks,

“I…I can’t stop ... .I can't stop thinking…about…” his fingers tightly grip his button-up shirt.

You look at him, his conflicted state plastered on his face, reflected in his eyes, as though he’s fighting some sort of inner battle.

“About you.”

You feel as though all the blood drains from your face. Lightheadedness hits you like a truck.

His hands visibly shake as they return to softly grip your wrists. Slowly, he runs his hands up and over the palms of your hands, tentatively intertwining his fingers with yours. His hands feel clammy and cold, and that familiar chill crashes over you, climbing into the depths of your nerves, as his hands tremble in your own. He holds on lightly, as though he’s scared you’re going to dissipate into the air, like you’re going to crumble with any pressure applied.

“I…feel…so…” his voice trails off…

…

“Confused.” His voice cracks with the last syllable.

And with that, his next words come out like crashing waves.

“I can’t concentrate, Y/N. My paperwork, my meetings, my studies, none of it. I simply can't. Every single day…I feel like… like…” He squeezes your hands ever so slightly, “…like I’m going insane…All I can think about is you. I’m losing sleep Y/N. I can’t sleep.” That last word contains a hint of pining, a whine, like a dog pleading with its owner.

“Y/N…” Azul releases your intertwined hands, now wrapping both of your hands in his own, cupping them into his and pulling them close to his chest.

“Tell me…what do I do?” His voice cracks, the last part of the sentence essentially a whimper. He’s searching hopelessly for an answer. And he wants you to give it to him.

You stand there, absolutely dumbfounded. You part your mouth, but no words come out.

Worry not, Azul’s not finished. He continues on.

I’ve made a fool of myself already. My reputation. Our relationship. I’ve risked it all. I’m not one to gamble…but I have nothing left to lose now.

“I’ve never….felt this way before. Y/N…would you… would you be willing…to take a chance with me?”

His hands tremble over yours as your eyes widen at this request.

“You know…I hate to ask for things. But…I’m willing to swallow my pride today. For this. For you. I’d like to propose a…a deal…”

He pauses, studying your eyes, hoping maybe, just maybe, he’d find an answer in them.

“Would you… give me your heart?…You…you wouldn’t leave this deal empty handed..! A mutual exchange…even and fair…you give me your heart…and I’ll give you mine.”

Still, you are unable to say anything. You feel dizzy, you can’t think straight. Your words are caught in your throat. Are you about to fall over? Is this real? You’re not dreaming right?

Azul takes a deep breath in, and boldly takes one more step: he pulls a single hand of yours to his face, both of his hands holding your single one in place on his left cheek. He holds on, softly, but unyielding, as though he’s scared you’ll disappear into thin air. The same as his hands, his face is freezing cold.

It must be his whole body that feels this way, you think to yourself.

“Y/N…how do you feel about me? Please…tell me…I can’t continue feeling this way. I feel as though I’m going to explode Y/N. My chest…it feels so heavy all the time. I can’t take it anymore. I’m at my wits’ end.”

…

“So tell me… what do you think of this deal…?”

You stare at him, and he stares at you. The look in his eyes, so desperate. You’ve never seen him look so vulnerable before. The overblot looks like nothing in comparison to the look he has on his face right now. He looks as though he’s risking it all. That’s because, for him, he really is.

It’s your turn now. Softly, you run your hand slightly down over his face, slipping away from the grasp of his hands. You run your thumb softly over his beauty mark under his lower left lip, and your pointer finger follows its lead. It’s a gentle touch. The fingers run over it, bordering his lower lip, tracing even, ever so briefly, before you put your hand down to your side.

“….Okay.”

Azul stares blankly at you.

“…Okay?”

“I accept Azul. I accept your deal. Okay.” You nod subtly, your face feeling hot as you release these words from your throat. Your acceptance of his words. Acceptance of his feelings.

Azul lets out a sharp, shaky breath, as though he’d been holding it for years now. Then, he lets out a chuckle, breaking out into a cheesy smile, laughing, almost like a child.

He places his palm to his forehead in relief, sounding absolutely shocked, “R-really? You do???”

You let out a small laugh, seeing the way his tense demeanor fades away, and you see Azul for what he really, truly is in this moment: A guy that’s absolutely and utterly devoted…to you. “Yes. I accept your deal Azul. I feel the same way.”

Azul lets out an excited “Ha!!” As he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him. He doesn’t break eye contact, despite only being a few inches away from your face now, as he asks,

“You…you’re not joking right? You’re not toying with me??? You really mean it??”

You nod, a bit more vigorously this time, hoping it’ll really communicate your commitment. Laughing, even more, you respond, “Yes, yes, oh my god yes. Dude…I’ve never seen you this excited before! This is actually kind of insane bro…”

At this point, Azul couldn’t give two shits about your remark. All he cares about is your reciprocated feelings. It’s mutual. Your feelings are mutual.

I could die right now.

Holding you close, having pulled you in by one arm after your acceptance, he cups your face in his hands, only for a brief moment, and runs his fingers down your cheeks. “Th-this is wonderful! Splendid even!” He says excitedly. Breaking away from your face, he exclaims “Okay!”. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you roughly over to the other side of his desk, and begins rummaging around in the drawer.

You peek over his shoulder, trying to see what he’s looking so maniacally for.

Then he reveals it.

He pulls out a golden scroll, hastily splaying it out onto the table. He forcefully pushes a pen into your hand.

“J-just sign here!!” He grasps your hand with the pen, and guides it over to the characteristic “x” and line, indicating the need for a signature.

Awww hell nah bruh.

You immediately pull your hand away, nuzzling it into the safety of your chest. “Azul! What the fuck!”

“W-what???!” Azul asks, genuinely surprised and concerned. Oh… does he look like a puppy that was just scolded for the first time.

“Dude!! N-No! I thought the deal and contract thing was…like…a metaphor!!!”

“W-why would it be a metaphor??” Azul cries out. “This, this is a…” Azul thinks back to his conversation with Jade, his words flashing in his mind, “A physical manifestation of my appreciation!”

Thanks for that Jade..

You look at him, mouth wide open in shock. “Because it’s fucking insane to have the person you confess to sign a contract ensuring they like you back???”

“W-well..! I need to be sure!”

“…” You let out a scoff of disbelief, crossing your arms over your chest as you shake your head.

But then, your face softens, and you let out a chuckle

“...Ha…alright. You know what? Fine.”

You put your hand down to the “x” on the paper, the pen hovering over the line, “but on one condition”, you add in.

Azul freezes. “W-what?”

They want to make a bargain? With me? Who do they think they are? No one proposes contracts to Azul Ashengrotto. I do the proposing.

Huh. Guess some things really do never change.

“I eat at the Mostro Lounge. For free.”

Azul’s face, previously draped in shock, melts into a soft, almost mocking smile.

“Well…as my partner…wouldn’t that be a given? What an ignorant question.”

“...Ignorant question?” You raise an eyebrow. “Hm. Somehow, the scroll looks…unappealing suddenly. Wouldn’t you agree?” You look up at him, smirking as you pull your hand away from the paper.

“SMART! SMART QUESTION. SMART QUESTION. INCREDIBLY INTELLIGENT, YOU ARE MY DEAR!”

Azul puts his hands up, waving them frantically towards the paper, indicating for you to sign. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! S-sign the scroll! Please!”

You laugh at Azul, and finally, your pen glides across the paper, and you effortlessly lift your hand from the sheet as the scroll dissipates into the air, leaving gold specks of light in its wake.

I cannot believe I just signed that fucking scroll. Did I just sell my soul?

Azul watches the light as it fades, gold specks reflected in his glasses. He turns to look at you, smiling as though he’d just scored the business deal of a lifetime. Because to him, he had.

“This…this is wonderful! Haha!” He breaks out into giddy laughter, but… is cut off?

He feels…something warm…? On his face…?

Oh.

Ohhh.

You had leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Azul stands there. In utter shock. His body tense, he feels as though the wind could knock him over if it felt so inclined.

You back up. One step. two steps. You smile at him as you grab his hand and wrap it around the pen.

“Where’d your voice go? Sea witch got your voice?” You say in a teasing tone.

“Y….you…”

You giggle, “You know. Your hands are incredibly cold. So is your face. They say your lips are most sensitive to temperature. I guess I just wanted to see if that was true. I can now confirm that to, in fact, be the truth!”

You let out a quick laugh, smiling at him as you watch him basically self-destruct before your eyes. You release his hand which now holds the pen, and you turn to that glass bubble on the table that kickstarted this night between you too.

“Thank you again, Azul!” You say, in almost a playful manner, knowing the drastic change in the mood is going to give him emotional whiplash. Not to worry, that was the point. “For the wonderful gift, both uh…physical and verbal?” You say, furrowing your eyebrows and lifting the conch in your hand “I dunno….Anyways!”

Azul remains standing in place, watching you. The rest of his body still frozen, he breaks into an awkward smile, nodding slightly, not once taking his eyes off of you.

You head for the door, shell in hand, pulling the knob and opening it. Before you exit, you add in. “I’ll see you tomorrow then? I’ll head back over here after class. That sound okay to you?”

One last time, Azul nods, this time vigorously, his frozen body now coming back to life as he takes a step towards your figure, his hand slightly extended out to you, as though he doesn’t want you to go, “Y-yes! Yes! That sounds wonderful. I’ll see you tomorrow…Y/N.”

And with that, you leave him with a final smile before you walk out of the room, and you shut the door behind you.

Click

And once again, Azul is left to his own devices.

The tension and stress hitting him like a slap in the face, Azul’s legs give out from underneath him. He collapses to the ground in a heap. How he managed to not do that way earlier, he doesn’t know. He opens his hand and looks down to reveal the pen. The very pen you’d used to sign off your love. To him.

“I suppose I could give Jade…a bonus…or something. For the help.” Azul mutters to himself, not caring about his monetary loss one bit.

The pen feels warm in his cold hands, remnants of you lying in his palm.

Your heart for mine. Not a bad trade.

…

Perhaps I should begin drafting up a marriage contract?

~~~

THE END 😝😝

I love you Azul Ashengrotto I’ve been hyperfixated on you for three yearsl they could never make me hate you bbg gets on all fours and starts meowing rubs my face against your leg like an overly affectionate cat searching for your attention id do anything for you azul.

fyi this fic is basically a self-insert of myself and azul i literally just pulled a find and replace all at the end to generalize it i love azul sm i love him.

#twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu #idia shroud #fluff #fanfic #self insert #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #riddle rosehearts #vil schoenheit #jamil viper #malleus draconia #twst oc

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drchucktingle · 2 years ago

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alien or machine or autistic

imagine conquering your chronic pain by expressing your autistic self through writing 400 short stories that you pour your whole soul into fighting nearly a decade to normalize your unique voice and suddenly buds think its fun to say they were written by ai and have no art value

obviously scoundrels who say this have never actually read a tingler and i will continue to trot with my head up high but it is interesting time to be on this timeline. these accusations are STUFFED TO BRIM with ableism whether they know it or not.

'autistic hyperfocus bud cannot POSSIBLY be a human being' they must be an alien or a machine. classic neurotypical reaction to autistic buds following their heart and making art that expresses their true self

#love is real #ableism #actually autistic #ai #tingleverse

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threepandas · 5 months ago

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Bad End: Kept Safe

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

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chrisevansonly · 1 year ago

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𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

✯social media au

✯what’s better than marrying your fiancée and then surprising the world?

✯another charles because i can’t help it lol

y/n’sinsta added to their story!

comments

my favs are in lake como 😍😍

DO I SMELL WEDDING VIBES?!

i wonder what the two love birds are doing in lake como….

best vacation spot ever!!!

y/nleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, vogueitalia, francisca.cgomes and 5M others

pour toujours me semble parfait, je t'aime sans fin♥️

tagged charles_leclerc

see 250,000 comments

username I KNEW IT I KNEW IT😭😭

username look at them!!! IM SCREAMING

username y/n looks so beautiful 🥹

francisca.cgomes the most perfect weekend and wedding ever love you both so much ❤️❤️

>pierregasly was perfect until you ditched me on the dance floor..

>y/nleclerc not my fault you suck at dancing frenchy😗

username AHAHA PIERRE

arthurleclerc so happy for you both❤️

liked by charles_leclerc and y/nleclerc

charles_leclerc je t’aime tellement chérie, so grateful to have you as my wife❤️❤️

liked by y/nleclerc

charles_leclerc

liked by y/nleclerc, apmmonaco, carlossainz55 and 6M others

I am the luckiest man alive to call you my wife, y/n you are nothing short of brilliant, beautiful and kind. you brought so much light and love into my life at a time i needed it most. you are the sun to my moon, the stars to my sky, and the answer to all of my questions and prayers. there is no one else who is so perfect for me, and I’ll continue to love you for as long as i can. thank you for for being my best friend, my partner and now my wife.

je t’aime tellement chérie, tu as tout mon cœur♥️

tagged y/nleclerc

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username i couldn’t even make it through the caption without crying😭

username charles being the biggest sap for y/n😭

landonorris mate…cmon now

>carlossainz55 i’m crying too dw

>alexalbon 🥹🥹🥹

username I CANNOT

landonorris so pick me, choose me!

>y/nleclerc pop off meredith grey

lilyhme omfg😭😭

>y/nleclerc i know 😭

y/nleclerc charles i love you so much, you have my whole heart and soul forever. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and i’m so grateful and thankful i get to call you my husband. thank you for making me cry all weekend, je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime…

liked by charles_leclerc

>charles_leclerc♥️♥️

y/nleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, scuderiaferrari and 1M others

little details from the best day of my life ♥️

tagged charles_leclerc

username omg the custom lace?!

username the way it says ‘hot wives club’

carmenmmundt everything was so stunning 🤍🤍

liked by y/nleclerc

username this weekend looked like a dream!!

charles_leclerc let’s do it all over again amour ♥️

>y/nleclerc same time next weekend?

>landonorris I CANT CRY AGAIN NO

liked by charles_leclerc

y/nleclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

y/nleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, F1 and 998,000 others

honeymoon vibes only, sorry for not answering our phones, we’ve been busy😁

tagged charles_leclerc

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username HAHAHA BABY LECLERC INCOMING

>y/nleclerc @/charles_leclerc 😁😁😁

liked by charles_leclerc

username y/n dropping hints to charles already😭

username my favs!!

username greece looks so good on charles

danielriccardo there are kids on this app…

>y/nleclerc don’t worry lando’s not here 😌

>landonorris HEY!

>landonorris for the record i am scarred for life

>charles_leclerc good.

username poor lando💀💀

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kingofbodyrolls · 21 days ago

Text

Doughn't Go Baking My Heart (m) | ksj | teaser

Are you ready to spend the whole of December in a baking competition with the rival you love to hate? 🌨️ 📍 Dropping on the 4th of December 2024 [gift 1/5] ✨ 🎁 This is a special gift for my dear friend @allie-is-a-panda 🌝 🎁 Peek at your gifts under the Christmas tree [link] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [JINtastic subreddit] 🎁 Teaser under the cut ⬇️

As Jungkook drifts behind you, interviewing the contestants in low, animated tones, you’re relieved for the momentary quiet, allowing you to pour your full attention into the pie crust. This is where it all begins—the delicate balance between flour, butter, and water must be perfect. The crust is the foundation, the soul of the pie. You flick on the oven, feeling the heat radiate in waves, and start toward the supply table to grab a mold. But before you make it halfway down the aisle, you slam right into a solid wall of warmth. Seokjin. “Sorry,” you mutter, trying to collect your scattered thoughts. You sidestep to go around him, but Seokjin clears his throat, and you feel the annoyance bubble up inside you. You glance up at him, your lips tight. “What?” The word slips out sharper than you intended, but your patience is wearing thin. He doesn’t respond at first, just raises a finger to point above your heads. You follow his gaze—mistletoe. Of course. The sight drains the color from your face. The mistletoe hangs above you like a mischievous sprite, and your heart drops into your stomach. No. Not with Seokjin. “I’m not kissing you,” you hiss, crossing your arms defensively, feeling a wave of heat rise in your cheeks. The growing number of cameramen hovering around doesn’t help. You can practically feel their lenses zooming in, capturing every moment of your horror. Seokjin’s smirk grows, and he shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s tradition,” he says, his tone infuriatingly playful. “Don’t you believe in tradition?” His eyebrow quirks, daring you. Damn Seokjin and his ridiculous smirk. You grit your teeth, a storm brewing in your chest. “Fine!” you snap, voice tight with frustration. With a huff, you step up onto your tiptoes, grab his annoyingly perfect face with flour-dusted hands, and plant a quick, perfunctory kiss on his lips. A fleeting touch—just enough to meet the demands of tradition, nothing more, nothing less. But the moment your lips brush against his, something stirs inside you, unbidden and unexpected. You pull away like you’ve been burned, cheeks blazing scarlet, heart racing as if you’d sprinted a mile. The cameras catch it all, zooming in on the moment—your moment with Seokjin, under the damn mistletoe. Your mother is probably watching this unfold, and you already dread the mountain of messages awaiting you back in your room. And Seokjin’s subreddit? You can only imagine the wildfire of jealousy that’ll sweep through it.

Want to join the series taglist? Just leave a comment that you want to be added, and you’ll be notified when the story is published 🎁

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perdidosbucky-yyo · 3 months ago

Text

𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓪

Part🥀

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Best Friend!Steve Rogers x Plus size! Fem!Reader (no mention of ethnicity)

Summary: Trapped in a prison of your husband and your mother’s expectations, haunted by the memory of your best friend, your only comfort is the ghost in your garden.

You thought you would never see him again but when he unexpectedly returns home from the war after 12 years, you’re not prepared for what’s to come.

wc: 6k

Warnings: Feminism doesn’t exist in this fic, the story is set between 1950-1965, fertility issues, detailed mention of miscarriage, body shaming (not from Steve), implied boner and handjob, violence, terms of endearment (I got carried away jsjs), detailed sexual abuse attempt (not from Steve), domestic violence, flashbacks and small time jumps (I hope it’s not confusing lmao), changing POVs (again, I hope it’s not confusing lmao), please let me know if I missed anything! more warnings to be added in part II.

a/n: This is my entry to @witchywithwhiskey 's Slasher Summer writing challenge, with the prompts: small town and stalker. I've poured my heart and soul into this fic, I had so many ideas I had to cut the fic in half so part two will be posted soon I hope (but it won't be part of the wc given that it ends today hehe) I hope you like it 👉🏼👈🏼

This is not beta'd any and all mistakes are my own.

“Move” your mother reprimanded.

You wanted to, you did, but your body wouldn’t listen, your chest was so heavy you felt trapped under the covers.

The sky was so blue, it reminded you of the blue puppies you once had in the garden. You cried all night when you came home from a trip to find them wilted and forgotten by your husband, they were the same shade as those eyes… every time you tended to them, it was like he was looking at you.

“Speak! Do something!” she hissed, the blue sundown behind her, tainted the room slate, and her black eyes became even darker. You noticed as she screamed in your face that her breath smelled of cigarettes, normally you’d be cowering in fear or trying to appease her but you remained frozen not even blinking.

Letting out a snort she wipes the sweat off your forehead with a cloth, “Look at yourself”, the woman grimaced, did you truly look so ghastly?

You wished she would just leave you, your mother was a busy woman, she had other things to do than take care of you… you hate to bother her.

“if you get any bigger people will know”, you vaguely hear her words, you tried to care but the sky was so beautiful, so peaceful, something you appreciated given your current state. Your whole body ached and nausea kept you awake every night, you were exhausted, and yet sleep never came.

“You reap what you sow darling, you must've done something to dese- You should be thanking God John hasn’t left you yet! he won’t put up with this for long, he wants a wife, not this” Her hand points to you in bed with a scowl on her lips.

Tears start streaming down your face, you wish the shadows in your room swallowed you. As saliva gathers in your tongue you feel like you’re about to throw up but your body still wouldn’t move.

She’s still rambling on about your failures as a woman, pacing around the room, so you take a frame from under your pillow, it was a photo of him and you.

Sophomore year, both of you sat on a bench just outside of your high school, he looked so handsome, you remember it well. Right after fall break, he wore a wool waistcoat that was much bigger for his skinny figure, and his hair was perfectly combed.

Both of you smiled from ear to ear, he was hunched over while you sat up straight with your knees resting on his.

It felt like it was a lifetime ago, instead of 12 years, you didn’t particularly enjoy high school, but Steve Rogers made it memorable.

Once upon a time you lived in the same neighborhood since you were 8 years old, the first time you saw him he was having an asthma attack as he crashed his bike into some trash cans. You ran to his side and quickly introduced yourself, his scrawny hand shook yours back before you took the white ribbon from your dress and pressed it against his bleeding forehead.

He instinctively reached for his head and your fingers grazed him for just a second, eyes so focused on yours, you realized he was scared, so your other hand reached to comfort him… sometimes you think you’ve held hands ever since, and neither of you could let go.

You couldn’t be separated even if your parents threatened and bargained, inseparable would be an understatement. After the accident, Steve found a kindred spirit and comfort in your friendship, while you discovered fierce loyalty and kindness.

It was strange that, at such a young age you felt drawn to Steve, and you knew he did too, as children it only made you want to spend every second of every day together.

You’d spend summers, riding your bikes all over town despite your mother’s scorn, listening to Billie Holiday records in Grandma Rogers’ dusty old house, reading in the library until it closed, playing tag in his living room while his mother baked in the kitchen, hiding in his basement every time your dad picked you up.

When the days you spent together weren’t enough, you begged for sleepovers, your sister had them all the time after all, but your mother thought it improper for a boy to sleep over, so eventually, you fashioned a sheet rope for Steve to climb once everyone had gone to bed, and then he’d sleep by your side.

Some nights you’d whisper what you imagined the past was like, both of you were passionate about history, sometimes Steve would caress your hair while you sobbed into his shoulder, cursing to hell all belts, but most nights you would stay silent, holding hands until you fell asleep, once the sun was up, Steve’s side of the bed was always empty.

This went on for years, even in high school, your love for each other only grew, despite the silly arguments like you spending more time studying than with Steve, or him always getting a black eye never knowing when to stand down.

The both of you knew this was forever, and there was nothing you could do or say that would make either of you leave.

You tried getting out of his hold, squirming and pushing, if it were anyone else you’d be suffocated, “G-osh Stevie for someone so lean, you sure are strong” you huffed and puffed.

“If my mother finds us cuddling she’ll never let you see me again” You laughed, but you weren’t kidding, young ladies were never to engage in inappropriate behavior with boys your mother would always tell you.

“Yeah, I’d like to see her try” Steve grunted, almost possessively, his arms only squeezing you further into his chest, you couldn’t breathe but it wasn’t because of his bruising hold, chills went down your spine, and butterflies flew in your stomach.

You chose to ignore his comment and what it made you feel, “We have to go soon, Bucky won’t wait for us forever and he’s our ride”, finally you felt Steve’s arms relax but his hands remained on your back, rubbing it.

Catching him off guard, you free yourself and jump out of bed, quickly running to your mirror to check if your hair still looks good and to your relief it does. As you turn back you catch a glimpse of him adjusting his pants which makes your cheeks burn hot, you didn’t understand why that made you proud, and it isn’t the first time it’s happened, but Steve reassured you it was normal…

You weren’t brave enough to ask him if it was normal that you wanted to touch it.

As you walk out to your porch, Steve’s hand reaches for yours, “Promise you won’t stray too far from me, God knows what kind of people Tony invites to his parties”, his eyes search yours for something, you don’t know what, so you nod while your thumb caressed his knuckles, Bucky was already on your driveway honking the horn without any regard for your neighbors.

“You’re lucky my parents are out of town Barnes!” you laugh as Steve opens the door for you, once everyone has their seat belts on, per your request, you head to Stark Manor.

After a short drive, you enter Tony Stark's ancestral home, it seems like the whole high school was invited. You never liked parties all that much, and neither did Steve but you thought socializing with other people besides each other would do you good, your mother insisted on it.

Swallowing a nervous gulp, you instinctively reached for Steve’s hand, just for a few seconds but then Peggy Carter jumped into his arms with a red smile and an even more gorgeous red dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

She was an exchange student, she was relatively new to the school but she quickly befriended your little group of friends, with her London charm and wit.

Your heart sank to your stomach and a knot formed in your throat when you saw his hands on her sides. Why were you jealous? he’s your friend you had to remind yourself, Steve couldn’t always be by your side, you knew this… and yet you couldn’t help the sickness brewing deep in your stomach when Peggy’s hands roamed all over Steve.

It was obvious Peggy liked him, but Steve’s reluctance to take her hand gave you a moment of relief, but then he was gone, lost in the sea of people. You hugged yourself as you considered asking Bucky to take you back home, but he already had his tongue down Dot’s throat.

Against your better judgment and Steve’s warnings, you found yourself in the bar, admiring all the bottles of liquor that came in different shapes and sizes, the one called Unicum caught your attention but as soon as you smelled it, you put it away.

“Not a fan I take it?” a voice comes from behind, following it, you find the host himself wearing a black turtle neck along with a blazer that hugs him just right, his brown eyes slowly studying you while he takes a sip of his drink.

Putting back the bottle, you chastised yourself for picking it up in the first place, “I’m sorry, this is expensive, I shouldn’t have touched it, I’m- I’m sorry” you sputtered.

You were nervous, but you realized you liked the attention, Tony was every girl’s dreamboat and the fact that his eyes were so focused on your body was thrilling.

With a sly smirk, he walks closer to you, “Don’t you worry Honeybun, that’s my father’s drink, break the damn thing if you want” he chuckled, “You’re Rogers’ little pet, aren’t you? he leave you all alone?”, he sounded a little drunk already.

Before you could get mad at his nickname, his arm wrapped itself around your waist “I think you’re a sweet-tooth Honeybun, you’re going to love Grasshoppers” he stated, without giving you a chance to refuse.

You were delighted to find out you did love the creamy drink, and after a few of them, Tony started to be less annoying to you, and if you squinted you could pretend he looked like Tony Curtis.

You missed Steve, where is he?

As Tony dragged you to the dance floor, squished between the crowd of drunk classmates, you started to feel suffocated and Tony’s grip on your wrist was starting to hurt, but your head was so fuzzy, and the room was so loud, he probably couldn’t even hear your protest.

Tony finally stops, his hands wander down your back until they’re on your waist, and his fingers dig into your dress, making your heart skip a beat, as he starts swaying you, Steve emerges from the sea of dancing silhouettes.

His smile of relief drops when he sees another man’s hands around your waist, you almost push Tony away in response, but you just put on your best smile.

“H- Hey I’ve been looking all over for you”, Steve says, his tone is friendly but his eyes darken when Tony pulls you closer to him, making you trip a little, you didn’t have your wits about you, and Steve notices.

“Baby I need to get you home” he almost pleaded, you’re shocked he called you the nickname he only used when you’re alone, his perfect blue eyes had… longing in them? that couldn’t be right, especially when you discover the mark of red lips on his cheek, making your blood boil.

“I don’t want to leave Steve, I’m- I’m having fun with… T-Tony”, you tried to sound unyielding but you could feel the tension rise between the two men, you were never good with confrontation.

“You heard her little man, you shouldn’t have left her all alone if you didn’t want someone to steal her from you”, Tony says matter-of-factly.

Your best friend looks stoic, not moving a muscle, he looks intimidating despite Tony being much taller than him. He’s one step away from invading Tony’s space, but you’re quick to place your hand on his chest, and you immediately feel him relax, his eyes soften too when he turns to you.

“Go back to Peggy, I’m sure she’s waiting for you” is all you say with a wavering smile.

His hand wants to reach for you but all he does is nod before he disappears into the crowd, you’re a little disappointed. The rest of the night is eternal, your feet grow sore, and you had your 4th grasshopper a minute ago so your mind is comfortably numb, but every time Tony gropes your hips, or his fingers trace your cheeks, you feel guilt deep in your stomach, and to your dismay the party only seems to intensify.

As you slow danced you tried to ignore how dizzy you felt, but when the song ended you couldn’t help but let your weight fall into Tony’s arms, he just laughed and reaffirmed his hold on you “C’mon Honeybun don’t tell me you’re sleepy, night’s young! I want to show you something”.

You felt him move you before you could even respond, “Wh-where are we going Steve?” you slurred, not realizing you called him by another name, your question was met with silence, Tony just kept on pulling you across the grand hall.

“I want to show you the pretty flowers in the garden Honeybun, no one will bother us” his smile was wide but it did nothing to ease you, he shushed you while you tried to voice your thoughts.

You felt watched… the night breeze flew by your dress and your skin prickled, but it wasn’t because of the night chill. You were too busy admiring the pastoral landscape to worry, your eyes followed the tree-lined path up to a beautiful pond, with pink roses everywhere, but before you could take a step forward, you were being pushed up against a stone wall.

“Ow! Tony what-” His lips crushed yours before you could finish your sentence, he tasted bitter and unwanted, you tried pushing him away but you were weak, the alcohol in you like heavy chains around your arms and legs.

“Don’t you wanna make me feel good Honeybun?” he slurred in your ear, your stomach filled with dread, you almost gagged, “please stop” you begged, but his hand brutishly covered your mouth “Shut up” he spat while his assault continued down your neck, you could hear his belt coming off and alarms went off in your head, a scared whimper managed to escape his hand.

The party was roaring inside, and the music was muffled by the stone walls, you were sure no one would hear your screams, you sobbed at the realization. You were about to accept your fate but then Tony’s thrown back by the neck and into the dirt, it was Steve!

Before you could react he was already on top of Tony pummeling him without compassion, animalistic grunts escaping his lips as his knuckles bloodied themselves.

“You don’t fucking touch her!” Steve growled, “You’re going to wish you were dead you piece of shit”, the hits kept coming, and you couldn’t stop watching, it was horrifying watching your best friend become this violent, controlled by his dark impulses, but a small part of you, a part of you that you wouldn’t acknowledge felt satisfaction, pride even…

Tony had been unconscious for a minute now and Steve wouldn’t stop, you were surprised he wasn’t having an asthma attack by now, the sickening sound of his fist meeting beaten flesh brought you out of your thoughts, you quickly ran to Steve to make him stop.

You grabbed his bloody fist in the air “Steve stop, you’re going to kill him” you cried, both of you heaving, you sensed Steve was making an effort to hold back, the blue in his eyes was almost gone, with only rage in them, “He should be six feet under just for putting his hands on you” he gruffed, you didn’t know how to respond so you only nodded, taking his hands in yours, and placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

Seeing your blood-stained lips made him feel unlike anything he’d ever felt before, a sense of ownership pleasantly lingered, but as he searched to see if you were harmed, your tear-streaked face made him move off Tony, and take you in his arms, the warmth radiating from him finally calmed you enough to let yourself feel the terror of what could’ve happened to you.

You let it all out onto Steve’s shoulder like you’ve done countless times before… except this was different, you’ve always felt safe with Steve, but after tonight, you also felt protected.

“I won’t let anybody touch you again baby” he lulls, your arms wrap around his neck and instinctively you rub off on his chest, needing to be as close to him as possible, his scent already soothing your soul.

“I promise”, he whispers in your ear and kisses your temple with such tenderness you barely feel his lips… everything is going to be ok.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice,

then kiss me once again

It’s been a long, long time

Haven’t felt like this, my dear since I

can’t remember when

It’s been a long, long time

♫ ♪

“He’s back in town” Peggy repeats after you remained silent for an awkward amount of time, you just couldn’t stop replaying this one song in your head…

“Did you even hear what I said?” Peggy’s annoyance startles you, making you drop the cup of tea you were nursing.

She rolls her eyes at you, while she grabs a dishtowel to wipe the spilled liquid, “Steve Rogers is back” she deadpans, carefully observing your reaction.

“So sad Sarah isn’t here to welcome him back home” you whispered, tears threatening to spill at the memory of the woman who took care of you for so long, far more tender than your mother ever was to you.

“Honorably discharged” she continued, probably not even hearing your comment “They even made him a Captain, can you imagine? I-”.

She keeps on talking but it’s all muffled noise to your ears, your mind running a million miles per hour.

Would you give him a call?

how much can war change a man?

would he call you?

what would you say if you bumped into each other at the supermarket? God, John doesn’t even know about him.

Knowing Steve was home rekindled the heartache you managed to bury in the back of your mind every single day, it took everything in you not to start crying every time you remembered his broken promise, but you learned a long time ago that it was best to keep your emotions under lock and key.

The sound of running water finally distracted you from your consuming thoughts, “Hon are you sure you’re up for visitors?” Peggy sings with faux concern as she does the dishes, “I know you’re still not over the incident but I have to agree with your mother, you need to try harder, this is not normal, when I was preg-”

Willing yourself not to throw the porcelain cup at her head, you grinned, “Maybe we’ll see Steve at the reunion, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you Peggy”, you sassed behind your stiff smile, but of course, she didn’t notice. Her reaction only confirmed what you suspected, like a little girl her ears perked up and her cheeks turned bright red “It’ll be so good to see everyone again” Peggy tried to conceal her excitement.

“I’m sure your husband will enjoy seeing everyone too” you reminded her, too tired to play nice with her.

Peggy’s eyes widen “You see, I don’t think Tony will be able to attend… you know how he is, always work work work” she laughs nervously.

You know better than that, Tony Stark was a sleazy drunk, you knew it since that night back in high school, but as the years passed, Tony’s attempts to hide his transgressions were feeble, by now the whole town knew every time he went away for business to New York City, he was on a bender gambling, drinking and sowing his wild oats, but Tony’s wealth and power always kept him out of trouble.

“Of course, I’m sure he’ll be back from his business trip just in time for the reunion” You pleasantly smiled before getting up and cutting up a piece of pink azalea cake for her to take back home, far, far away from you.

Once Peggy’s gone you start your chores, it was always the same, wash John’s clothes and press them, hang them by the door for the next day, then clean the windows, wash the curtains, scrub the floors until they’re shining, and never mop, last time you did your husband almost burned your books. Dust his trophy cabinet, sweep the garage, and finally make dinner and keep it in the oven so it’s warm when your husband comes home.

After finishing everything up to John’s liking, you always end up in your garden, the joy of your life besides a good book.

Your garden wasn’t grand or exotic like the other housewives’ gardens, Peggy would often say it was dull or pitiful or both, but in your eyes, it was precious and full of life.

From hybrid phlox, peonies, and hydrangeas to blue holly bushes, you took care of them with love and tenderness, your garden was your comfort in your darkest days, sometimes the only thing you looked forward to in your day.

But your roses… they were your most prized possession, every day without fail you tended to them, making sure they were safe and felt cared for, sometimes you would even sing to them, your roses were your babies, you could never forsake them like he did you.

You cried as you fertilized the earth for your youngling, your tears fell on the little sprout right next to the other roses, now in full bloom.

Your mind wandered 9 years back to when you first married John. You couldn’t fight your mother any longer, for years you rejected any suitor she brought, doctors, lawyers, professors, none of them compared to the one person you truly loved. Despite your mother’s constant denial, you hoped Steve would safely return and finally admit the feelings you knew he had for you, and take you far away…

But it was a silly fantasy, he never wrote, not once since you said goodbye that September night, so long ago, you hated him for it, you never understood why he abandoned you like that, you only knew he was alive because of the letters he sent to his mother, but his beautiful eyes haunted you at night, and when you didn’t dream of him you resented him for it.

Then your mother arranged a date with John Walker, he was young, easy on the eyes, and set to inherit his grandfather’s sugar company which was said to be a very wealthy prospect. He wasn't particularly sweet or charming but his easy-going smile helped you ease your nerves.

The first thing he did when he saw you was take your hand and plant a kiss on your knuckles, he was sturdy and his posture was always rigid, but he had this suave confidence that made you think he owned the entire world.

He offered stability and comfort when you needed it the most, so you forced yourself to love him, you told yourself that he would be a good husband despite not knowing his faults or even his traits,... Steve wasn't coming back, so you decided to trust your mother's judgment.

The first year of your marriage you came to accept the fact that as hard as you tried, you would never feel the same way for your husband as you did for your best friend, but life with John had become comfortably dull.

You never thought your life would turn like it did…

As you adapted to married life, you found out John’s easy going smile was a facade, he was strict and expected certain things of you. To please him in every possible aspect, that was a wife's duty after all, he'd turn mean and a brute if you failed in your duties but if you followed the rules, he would leave you be to read your books and tend to the garden. You learned the hard way if he came home to find his clothes wrinkly or God forbid the floors mopped instead of scrubbed, you would suffer the consequences..

Eventually, you learned to appease his ego and keep your head down, your days went out painfully slow, and you would dread every time the hands of the clock slowly approached the time of his return, each day you wondered what new insult John had prepared to make you feel inadequate.

Thinking his temper would placate once you carried his child was naive, you realize that now. The first time you got pregnant you were ecstatic to love someone with your whole heart and soul, and for your love to be returned, but soon there was nothing to tell.

It was difficult to keep it a secret from your husband, like your mother, he crushed you under his expectations, the weight of them almost unbearable, and both, always made sure you knew the disappointment that you were.

But missing his smell, the comfort he provided, missing Steve was the most painful.

Tonight was your high school reunion and you couldn’t stop pacing around the living room, it was almost time to leave and you were still waiting for John to come home and change. Given that it was summer, the nights were hotter so you wore a sleeveless, wide-skirt baby-pink dress, adorned with white lace, pearl earrings, and white gloves as the finishing touch.

You were about to call his office when you heard the car park in the driveway. Too anxious to wait for him, you ran outside ready to greet him with a scotch, “Welcome home dear, please hurry, I left your clothes on the bed. If we leave in five minutes no one will noti-”

John slams the car door before you can finish your sentence, “We’re not going” is all he says without sparing you a look, taking the scotch from your hand and drinking it in one gulp.

“Please John, don’t be like this” you protested, “you said we could-”

“For fucks sake!” your husband snapped, his hand hit the hood of his black Chevrolet Impala, making you jump scared, he treated that car like his baby… the alarms in your head cautioned you to choose your words carefully.

“J-John please, be reasonable, let’s go inside I’ll make you another drink” you pleaded, afraid the neighbors would hear you arguing, the street was busy with kids riding their bikes and people coming in and out of their homes.

“You don’t tell me what to do!” he barked out your name like an insult, his body shaking with anger he had to clench his fists, he took a step forward and you recoiled, making him huff in offense.

He took your wrist with force and jerked you towards him, making you tumble on your heels, “Stop being so dramatic” he reprimanded. You didn’t mean to upset him but you didn’t want to go alone, you couldn’t! John had promised weeks ago he would go.

“I fired over 50 of my best workers because they thought they could do whatever they wanted, I will teach you a fucking lesson too if you keep pushing me” he threatened with malice, tears threatened to spill, you didn’t want to look at him but his hand forced your chin up.

You instinctively shook your head, too afraid to even speak, that only fed his ego and in a second he was dragging you through the pavement and into the house, a sick smile displayed on his face.

“John you’re hurting me” you panicked, holding onto his arms for some support, as he kicked the door close, he dropped you on the carpet of the living room, you almost hit your head against the tube.

Your husband’s chest heaves above you and before he can touch you again you quickly get on your knees with your head looking up, trying your hardest to make eye contact with the man you feared “I’m sorry!” you repeated over and over, the knot in your throat making it painful to speak.

After a long silence, you see his features relax, you’re flabbergasted by his swift change of attitude, his smile slowly widens and you flinch when his fingers wipe a single tear “That’s what I like to hear Sugar”.

“You know what I think?” he continued, “You should be at home trying to get pregnant and start our family instead of running off to a party and see some moron you used to be friends with”.

Nausea overwhelmed you at his implication but your mind spun at the mention of Steve, how on earth did he know about him?! Maybe you weren’t as discreet as you thought.

A stabbing pain on your wrist interrupted your thoughts and you reached for it, John comically pouts “I’m so sorry Sugar, work was just so stressful” he sighed while helping you stand up, your scrapped knees shake as you find your balance. You couldn’t be in the same room as him anymore, but your body wouldn’t move, he didn’t like it when you refused to look at him, so he tilted your chin up.

“Tell you what, I’ll let you go to this thing… I know Tony and Peggy will keep an eye on you”, he grinned, pulled you close to him and kissed your forehead, making your body tense.

You desperately wanted to push him off of you, and you almost did, but it wasn’t a good idea to piss him off further, after tonight, you weren’t sure how far your husband’s cruelty could go.

“I need to call Peggy” stated, your voice meek, too afraid he would change his mind, “so they can come to pick me up” you clarify, taking John’s silence as your cue, you took a hesitant step back, and briskly walked to the phone in the kitchen, thankful you had some space from him.

After the 5th ring, Peggy finally picked up and without getting into the details, you explained to her why you needed a ride to the reunion, to which she reluctantly agreed. As you waited, you cleaned the scrapes on your knees, if you put on stockings no one would notice, you quickly re-did your makeup and hair, and It wasn’t more than 15 minutes when you heard Peggy’s tootle.

You were almost out the door when John called your name, clearly asserting once more his power over you, letting out a shuddery breath, you turned to face him with your chin held high.

“Get me a beer” he commanded, too entranced with the boob tube to even bother looking at you, the room went quiet and all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears, you knew what he wanted from you. You wondered if you would ever be free of his torment, but the weight of your wedding ring reminded you of your vows…

Till death do us part.

So you plastered on a graceful smile, walked to the kitchen and returned with an opened can to place in his hand, with a smug smirk, he pats your ass, “off you go” he dismissed, and you promptly did.

The ride to the school was silent, Peggy didn’t question your vacant stare or why you kept rubbing your wrist, her mood seemed sour and you had no intention of untwisting that ball of yarn she called a brain.

As you walked in, you barely recognized the halls you used to walk every day, you remember Steve struggling to open his locker, Bucky flirting with anyone who wore a skirt, skipping Gym class so Steve wouldn’t be all alone in detention.

As you walked into the gym, you admired the decorations, balloons scattered all over the floor, red and pink confetti cascading down on everyone, glimmering under the soft light. You recognized some people but there was so much people, you weren’t even sure you went to class with some of them, the party was in full swing, and people danced as the band played your favorite song.

Never thought that you would be

Standing here so close to me

There’s so much I feel that I should say

But words can wait until some other day.

♫ ♪

You are as beautiful as the day he lost you, Steve thought, from all the way across the room, you still hadn’t seen him but he saw you the moment you walked into the room, stealing the air from his lungs.

His heart aches so painfully to be near you he swears it could be a heart attack, he was frozen in place afraid that if he moved you’d disappear, he wonders how long it would take for him to win you back…

Something in you compels you to turn around, and when you do, a gasp escapes you… You couldn’t believe your own eyes, for a moment you didn’t recognize him, he was taller and incredibly broad, nothing like the man you saw last a decade ago, his posture was intimidating, but then you met his eyes, and those were the same. He truly was back, and all those emotions you kept under lock broke free, making your legs move forward before you could think, he immediately did too, and suddenly the both of you were running through the crowd to get to each other.

Without hesitation, you crashed into his arms, and he crushed you to him, easily picking you up, he was definitely stronger. Breathing him in, a sob almost escaped your lips, it was still the same after 12 years, the noise around you drowns out and it’s as if the earth stops spinning altogether… “I’m so sorry you lost your mom”, you whimper, it was the first thing you needed to say.

His hold only tightens, making it harder to breathe, memories of his suffocating embrace making you feel warm inside, you grip the nape of his hair for comfort, “I didn’t get to say goodbye” Steve whispers into your neck. Since you can remember, you always hated when he was heartbroken, his pain was your own, you wished you could take it away.

“I know”, you nod, before he slowly lets you down, making you realize just how much the height difference is, it made you nervous.

His hands settle on your lower back while yours rest on the sides of his shoulders, you’re so close, he’s hunched over and you’re on your tiptoes, just inches away from his lips, his nose nudges your own for a moment, making the butterflies in your stomach wild, you feel drawn to each other like magnets. Steve’s leaning in, and like a bucket of cold water, you remember the last 12 years, you remembered how easily he abandoned you, breaking every promise he made to you.

You quickly turn your cheek and you can feel his disappointment boring into your head, taking a small step back, you hold his hand tightly, not redy to let him go yet, and you shake your head, silently telling him you couldn’t kiss him.

The soldier had half a mind to grab and kiss you, remind you of what you meant to each other, after years and oceans apart he never stopped thinking about you. You both knew from the day you met , you were his, and he wasn’t going to let anyone get in between the two of you ever again.

But before he could say anything, Peggy Carter approached them.

“Well well, look at you two chums getting reacquainted”, her smile was sickenly sweet, but her eyes told you, you were caught… How long had she been watching? you ask yourself as anxiety settles in your stomach, and then your husband’s words ring in your head.

“I know Tony and Peggy will keep an eye on you”.

Your heart beats incessantly against your chest, and your breathing becomes shallow, she was going to tell John, you realized… and you were terrified of what he would do.

To be continued…

Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply encouraged.

part 🥀🥀

#slashersummerwc #carrot's harvest #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers au #best friend steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans characters #friends to lovers #steve rogers angst

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hauntingofhouses · 11 months ago

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I just keep obsessing over how Mizu is so many things. She truly is water, so deep and unfathomable and complex, ever-changing, ever-adapting, fluid and mysterious, she fits into every shape you pour her into, she is gentle yet vicious, soft-hearted yet callous, stoic and quiet yet still sarcastic and playful.

She is Japanese and white and both and neither, she is woman and man and both and neither, she is human and demon, she is ronin and bride and Onryo and phoenix.

She is also a sword; Mizu and her sword are one.

"The sword is the soul of the samurai."

"I am... made of mixed metal. No amount of hammering can remove my impurity."

"What is a sword? [...] It is a line. On one side of the line is life. The other, death. The edge we forge cuts the line between life and death."

Mizu's soul is thus represented by her blade, but Mizu is also

the metal: beautiful, strong, sharp, and precise, but ultimately neutral, neither good nor evil, as metal can be used to craft both weapons of death, or knives for cooking and nourishment;

the maker: artistic and passionate, the maker creates;

and the one to wield it: deadly and swift, the swordsman destroys.

In the first episode, we don't even see her blade for much of it, only mentions of it, as she doesn't even deign to fight someone like Hachiman the Flesh-Trader in Ringo's noodle shop.

Most people don't even deserve to see her blade. And who is the first person in the show whom the sword is even shown to? Well...

Taigen: "Are you afraid to fight with steel?" Mizu: "Thank you. No one has yet deserved my blade."

And then, more crucially, who does she actually allow to wield her blade? The first person she spars with? It is none other than Mikio, her husband.

She literally passes him her sword, letting him wield it for the rest of their fight, taking his naginata in exchange. Not purely a crossing of blades, but an exchange of it. Mizu is literally baring her soul to him and putting it in his hands.

In the whole show, the only other time we actually see someone besides Mizu holding her sword is after Mizu kills the Four Fangs and passes out from her wounds. Ringo picks the unconscious Mizu up, and in the process, her sword slips from her hand.

And then, resisting his selfish quest to reclaim his honour, Taigen tells Ringo a safe place for Mizu to recover and follows them both there, but not before he takes Mizu's sword, and also Chiaki's broken blade.

It is brief, but he does hold it, and the shot focusing on his hand picking it up places further emphasis on this fact.

Now, about the broken blade, @saessenach told me something very interesting, which is that when Mizu had helped craft this sword, it was made for the man she believed Chiaki was. And who exactly is that again? Let's go over the cover story he related to Master Eiji:

"I am not a swordsman. I bind books. I was taught my trade by... my father. He was killed by a drunk ronin, who cut my father down for splashing him with his cart. This ronin is a drunk, but he is skilled as I am not. He will kill me. I know this. But with a sword from you, Master, I can take his life as he takes mine. And die avenged."

So, as @saessenach so aptly put it, the broken blade "was made for a man who wanted to regain his honour from a stronger swordsman. He doesn't expect to survive the duel, but would just like to die with honour."

And doesn't that sound familiar? Like Taigen, a man who would also like to regain his honour by duelling a swordsman stronger than himself? Taigen, who had also come from nothing, who was raised not to be a samurai, but a humble fisherman, by his father who is now dead?

So of course that's why, when Taigen wields that broken blade, despite not even knowing the story behind it, Ringo unwittingly glimpses it anyway, and says this:

"Master Eiji's broken blade is a good fit for him."

Mizu just shrugs and frowns, refusing to accept it, because the sword isn't just bearing Master Eiji's signature, but also hers. A part of her is in this sword, just as a part of her is in all the blades she makes (though none of them are her soul, which is represented only by her meteorite sword).

But then later, after fighting together and barely making it out from the chasm of arrows alive, after seeing each other's skills, only then does she admit to Taigen:

"The broken blade fits well in your hand."

Which is why she (after knocking Taigen out and leaving him lying in the snow LMAO) leaves him with the broken blade, and again comments on how it "so well fits his hand."

Also, on the topic of the broken blade, why did it break again? Well, Mizu is one of the sword's makers, signing her name on it, thus putting a little of her soul into it as I already mentioned. According to Master Eiji, this process of the soul entering the sword occurs during the yaki-ire:

"The yaki-ire is when metal is reborn, and the soul enters the sword. All must be pure for the sword to be pure. The metal, the maker, the one to wield it."

As this process unfolds, this conversation happens:

Eiji: "Mizu. Is your mind clear?" Mizu: "It is." Eiji: "Mizu. Is your soul at rest?" Mizu: "It is."

However, after Master Eiji presents Mizu with the finished sword, it breaks, much to Mizu's disheartenment.

Chiaki: [About the blade being broken] "How could this happen?" Eiji: [...] "An unexpected element entered the blade." [...] Mizu: "The fault is mine. The element is me."

Mizu is right; she is "the unexpected element" that broke the blade, but not because of her race, nor her gender, but because her mind is not clear, and her soul is not at rest.

Why? Because the yaki-ire takes place right after she binds for the first time; she is in pain both physically and mentally, ashamed of who and what she is, hiding her true self, trying to smother an inherent part of her identity.

Then, about Bloodsoaked Chiaki wielding a sword which is broken, Master Eiji says this,

"A soul like that is drowned in blood. There is no stopping them. They will always find their broken blade."

This parallels Mizu breaking her blade after her rampage through the nine levels of Shindo and Fowler's fortress, after she gets literally soaked in blood.

After storming the fortress, her blade, too, is broken, and she is unable to melt it down and repair it.

Master Eiji: "Your sword broke because the blend was wrong." Mizu: "It was perfect." Master Eiji: "It was too pure. Your metal wants to be blended with new steel."

The sword, as, Mizu's soul, houses all the rage that has festered over the years. The purity of its meteorite steel represents her single-minded, hate-driven goal for vengeance.

On that note, it's interesting to remember that the meteor fell in front of Mizu during her confrontation with Taigen and his gang of bullies. That encounter was the beginning of her rage, the moment she stopped running and hiding, and instead fought back, clawing and throwing herself at the people who mistreated her. The meteorite thus represents her anger, her fighting spirit, her resistance.

Over time, she crafts her sword--her soul--purely out of this anger, and sets off on her revenge quest.

Of course, she then meets her mother, gets married to Mikio, and after their betrayals, Mizu once again resumes her quest.

But after her journey seeking Fowler, after meeting Ringo and Taigen and Akemi, Mizu's soul no longer feels singularly bound to her hate. She's made friends, she's starting to let people in, but she still suppresses those feelings, still insisting that she is just an Onryo, that she has no room for love or friendship or weakness, despite the fact that those are things her soul craves and needs deep down. She needs gentleness and respite, she needs to allow herself to be vulnerable and allow herself to love again, because she's not a demon--or at least not completely.

"There may be a demon in you..."

When Master Eiji says this to Mizu, he's not insulting her; by demon here, what he is referencing is the part of Mizu that is capable of great wrath and violence. Just like a demon is.

"...But there is more."

Mizu is still a human being. And she should let herself be one, should allow herself to feel more than just rage, but also joy, grief, love, and even pain.

"If you do not invite the whole, the demon takes two chairs."

So that's when she finally allows herself to start "allowing the whole"; she stands in front of the fire completely naked, no longer suppressing her true self, and melts the metal of those she collected, which are, in order,

the broken blade that now represents Taigen;

Akemi's knife;

Ringo's bell;

and Master Eiji's tongs.

These are people whom she cares about, who compel her to open herself up and see beyond her hate, who make her feel like she is capable of being more than just a demon.

By blending their steel into her future sword, she is accepting them, and the lessons and values they had taught her along the way, into her soul.

But as it stands now, Mizu does not have that sword. Not yet, for it's yet to be forged, as she gives the blended metal to Master Eiji.

Mizu: "If I succeed [to kill Fowler] and am still alive, I will return. And you can determine if I am worthy of a sword of this metal, made by your hand."

Which is why, in the finale, Mizu only fights with a random assortment of weapons she picks up (a sword, a naginata, a gun--but never shoots it--and the dagger Fowler stabs her with).

And then of course, Fowler drops the big reveals about Skeffington and Routeley; about her birth mother having been killed by one of the white men; about her Mama actually being a maid who was paid to keep her hidden.

With all this, there is so much she's still yet to know about who she is, who her parents are, and her identity is left hanging. So she leaves Japan not only to kill the remaining white men, but also to discover more about herself and her heritage--her white half. And this also mirrors the way she looks at the very end:

her hair grown out, her bangs identical to how she looked as a child; no longer wearing a scarf around her neck, no longer covering a part of herself.

Thus, Mizu will eventually receive her new sword that matches the new state of her soul, made of steel that "could kill a god."

But for now, she needs to understand who she really is, to discover the full breadth and complexities of the metal that made her, and the hidden depths within herself. In doing so, she must also learn to accept her anger as a tool, but cannot let it control her lest she become a demon; thus, she must allow herself to love as much as she hates, and most of all, simply let herself be.

Only then, can she claim her sword--her soul.

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai meta #mizu x taigen #taigen x mizu #kinda? i mean it's implied but you can also take it platonically #sorry i go crazy about taimizu im unwell <3 #taimizu #shut up haydar #meta dissertations.pdf #fandom.rtf

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xoxoavenger · 8 months ago

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How to Break a Heart

pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader

summary: Y/N's mother gives her a deadline on when she needs to break her first love's heart, but Y/N isn't in love. Luckily Luke has a plan to fool the goddess; they'll pretend to be in love, and Y/N can break his heart. But these plans never go accordingly.

word count: 4341

warnings: betrayal, no comfort but there is still fluff for most of it

notes: luke castellan has taken over my life i have like 9 drafts so we'll see how this goes (i'm always scared to post for a new character so any love is appreciated greatly)

part 2

masterlist

"How did it go?" Luke asked as Y/N walked out of the Aphrodite cabin. Her mother had requested an IM with her, and Luke had waited outside for her. Y/N didn't look too happy, but she never did after a talk with her mom.

"She thinks it's time." Y/N said, and as much as he wished he could read her mind, he had no idea what she was talking about.

"For what?" He asks, following as she begins to walk into the woods. It's clear she just needs to be on a walk to be away from everyone else, but she's letting him tag along.

"She said it's an embarrassment that I'd become an adult and still hadn't broken my love's heart." She says. "But I haven't fallen in love with anyone yet, and I don't wanna break some innocent person's heart." She stops talking when they reach the river, sitting on the wet ground. He thinks about his pants real quick and then sits next to her, wanting to give her his support.

"She gave you a time limit?" Luke asks, knowing the answer. The Aphrodite kids didn't usually go on quests, but this was a quest of its own. She knew the gods couldn't resist making things more difficult.

"Yeah. Four months. As if I could fall in love with someone in that time, let alone here." She grabs a rock and throws it into the current, the splash barely touching them.

"Maybe you don't have to." Luke whispered, looking at her. She turned to him, brows furrowed as she rested her head against her bent knees.

"I don't think my mom is gonna let it slide any further than she already has. The truth is, I've been putting this off for years. She's wanted me to break some pour soul's heart for two years now. Every time she's visited me, it's always 'what about that Hephestas boy?' or 'that Apollo kid looks so nice now.' I don't wanna know what she'll do if I disobey." Y/N admits, taking a deep breath.

"That's not what I meant." Luke smirked, causing Y/N to frown.

"What are you talking about, then?" She asks, sitting up and looking at him face on.

"If we pretend that we're in love - I mean, put on a whole show that convinces the whole camp," Luke says it quietly, as if Aphrodite may be listening to them right now.

"Then I can 'break' your heart and please my mom without actually hurting anyone!" She says excitedly, watching as Luke nods. "You're a genius!" She cried, throwing her arms around Luke. She was so happy to have this weight lifted off her shoulders. He held her back, and it felt nice for a moment.

"So, what's the story?" Y/N asked, leaning back and pulling her knees up and leaning on them gently now, instead of hiding behind them.

"We just have to pretend to be dating. I invited you over here to ask you out, so we'll walk back to camp holding hands." He said it so simply, she just nodded.

"What about kissing? Won't they get suspicious?" She asked, making Luke chuckle.

"We can figure that out later." He told her, and she just nodded. "For now, we only have to convince our friends."

"And the olympians." She shrugged.

"Only your mom. The rest of them won't care." Luke told her, standing up. He reached out a hand to help her up, and she took it. He then switched hands to hold her's, interlacing their fingers. Y/N had held hands with many boys, being a daughter of Aphrodite, but for some reason Luke's felt different. She was holding the hand he used to fight with his sword, calloused but somehow smooth. She looked at him, and for a moment she wondered if this would work. It was crazy to lie to a god, even if the goddess was her mother. Could she really pretend to be in love and break his heart? Would they still be friends afterward?

Luke squeezed her hand and smiled, and she felt relief flow through her. If there was anyone who could pull this off, it was Luke.

"We got this." He told her, and she nodded.

They walked to camp, hand in hand, and Y/N knew immediately that this idea would work.

"Oh my God!" Her sister Silena called, immediately seeing Luke and Y/N. "Uh, I knew it!" And Y/N pushed down the urge to roll her eyes. She could have come out of the woods with anyone and Silena would have claimed to have seen it coming.

And just like that, everyone knew they were together.

For about a month, they got away with just hand holding, hanging out a little more than regular, going on a couple night walks. But on one of their night walks, Luke brought up what she had been thinking.

"We have to kick it up. If we want people to think we really fell in love in four months, we have to be inseparable." He told her.

"Silena has already caught on. We have to make it look like we got caught doing something." She had been thinking about it, not wanting to go there, but they both knew there was no way around this. They had to make it believable. Everyone had to believe them for this to work.

"The Hermes cabin." Luke nodded, but Y/N furrowed her brows.

"But your cabin is like, never empty." She told him, concerned.

"Anyone who finds us in the Hermes cabin will tell everyone immediately. And we will get found basically as soon as we're in there." He had definitely thought about this.

"We'll get in trouble." She tells him, looking to the side at the water.

"Us getting in trouble for getting caught in a cabin alone together?" He smirks, squeezing her hand. "Yeah, I'm sure your mom will be really angry." When she turned to him he was smiling, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"You're a genius." She almost kisses him, because that's what she would do in the situation, but then she remembered they're not actually dating. She was almost embarrassed, but then she realized.

"We can't do this without ramping our relationship up a bit." She tells him, and he thinks for a second. He turns to the trees, and the smile is on his face once more.

"The younger kids are watching." He whispered, making her blush. Of course their younger siblings would be watching their romantic walk. "If it's okay with you," He mutters stopping and turning to her. He takes her other hand. "I can kiss your cheek. Or we," She drops is hands and grabs his face, bringing his lips to hers. She knew they'd have to kiss in front of everyone sooner or later, and clearly Luke was freaking out a little bit. She felt his hands go to her torso, high above her waist but just a little below her bra line. It made her heart race just a little bit.

Their lips moved in tandem, much more than any first kiss she's ever had before. She forgot everything as one of her hands slipped from his face to his chest. One of his slipped to her lower back, the other going to the back of her head. They broke for one second to reposition, but for some reason it was too much for her. She curled her fingers into his orange Camp Half-Blood shirt and brought him closer once more. She could feel him smile as he curled his fingers in her hair to position her better.

All too quickly, they separated. Y/N blinked a couple times, trying to clear her brain.

"I think they got the hint." He tells her, and she could only stare at him and try to figure out what he just said.

"Yeah," She whispered, realizing he was talking about their rouse. Of course, the only reason they had kissed was to get the camp talking. "They'll definitely be talking about that."

She didn't want to think about how upset she was, or why she was upset. This was fake - everything with Luke was fake.

"We should head back before Chiron comes and puts us on probation or something." She said, watching him nod. She let him lead her back to her cabin, where he gave her a kiss and a wink outside her door.

She was in trouble.

The next day, they met up to watch the kids make friendship bracelets. Luke had already made a deal with Travis, and no one noticed when the two left.

"We have a couple minutes until everyone comes in." He tells her, and she nods. He walks over to his bed, the single one in the corner of the huge cabin. Y/N has never seen it completely empty, and when she looks around it seems too quiet.

"How do you wanna," She mutters, heart pounding. She's nervous, and it's obvious.

"Hey," His voice is quiet, and she looks over at him. "We don't have to do anything that you don't wanna do." His hand goes to her har, pushing her hair out of her face a little bit. She had to force herself not to look away.

"We have to." She mutters, a sad frown on her face. They both knew she didn't have a choice for this.

"But we can just get caught alone." He assures her, sitting back on his bed. Y/N stays where she is.

"No, it has to be more. We have to convince everyone." She is convincing herself too, that she has to do this. She doesn't go on quests, and this isn't even courageous. This is something her siblings do for fun. She can do it for her mother.

"Okay," He tells her, grabbing her hands. She's about to ask how they should be set up, but then there's footsteps on the stairs. Before she can think, she practically pounces on Luke. She's straddling him, pressing him against the bed. Their hands became untangled and his go to her waist, lower than their first kiss. She hears the door open, and her heart freezes.

What are they doing?

Before she can mess up the entire plan, Luke leans up and presses their lips together. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, just letting them hold her up while Luke's venture under her shirt.

"Oh my gods!" Y/N and Luke separate with wide eyes. They were planning on getting caught, but not by her.

"Annabeth?" Luke whispers, turning to see his sister in the doorway, hand over her eyes.

"Shit," Y/N curses, getting up. She realizes her shirt is all scrunched, so she pulls it down.

"What a weird camp." The kid next to Annabeth says. Y/N notices him for the first time, a short kid that looked like he was enjoying this drama. He has to be new, because she's never seen him around and definitely never with Annabeth.

"This is strange." Ananbeth crosses her arms and squints. Y/N feels like she can see right through them.

"Oh, Chiron is not gonna be happy." The kid says, smiling. Before Y/N can argue that neither of them would tell the centaur, he walks up behind them.

"That assumption would be correct, Mr. Jackson." She has to remind herself that this was the plan, that they wanted to get caught.

"Chiron," Y/N says, looking up at him as he walks into the wide door frame. Annabeth and the kid move to let him in, also showing Y/N and Luke the amount of people behind him, waiting to see the

"This is unexpected from you two." He says, and Y/N can feel herself second guessing this plan. She doesn't like to be scolded by Chiron. Luke grabs her hand as if he knew what she was thinking.

"We're sorry, Chiron." Luke started, taking a deep breath.

"But we're not kids anymore," Y/N starts, the confidence coming from no where. "And sometimes we need time on our own." She can feel everyone's eyes on her, including Luke's.

"We can talk about this in the Big House." Chiron was clearly peeved, but she knew he couldn't get that mad. Everyone knew why Luke and Y/N stayed even though they were the oldest campers; they would be dead in the real world.

"You're up to something." Annabeth says as everyone leaves.

"I'm always up to something." Luke smirks before looking at the new kid. "I'm Luke."

"I'm Percy." The kid says, looking over at Y/N.

"Y/N." She nods, a small smile on her face. She looked at Annabeth, who knew something was up. She had to ramp it up.

She put a hand on Luke's shoulder and kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand and leaving. It had to be enough for now.

As it turned out, Annabeth went on a quest a couple weeks later, so they didn't need to worry about convincing her. But Luke was practically sick with worry for her wellbeing, and Y/N wasn't much better. Her deadline was coming up, and she was actually dreading it.

She was enjoying Luke's presence, enjoying the touches and the attention. She knew it was her mother's powers making her feel this way, but part of it was just her. She actually looked forward to waking up and going to see Luke. She thought about the night that they had fallen asleep in the warm sand, his chest cushioning her head. His arms were around her, and when they were caught in the morning she didn't even care about Chiron's second warning. Luke had snuck them desert anyway.

It helped calm her down from worrying about the kids on a quest, the fate of which would in turn decide the fate of Camp Half-Blood. She hated the feeling of war in the air, the campers fighting. Luke's comfort helped that situation as well. He would always grab her close, making her anxiety calm down and her mind quiet. She had taken to hanging out with him away from everyone's eyes, aside from plans to get caught. They would lay in the strawberry fields, looking at the clouds. Sometimes she would fall asleep, giving away the fact that she couldn't sleep in her own bed at night. As soon as Luke realized this, he made the Aphrodite cabin swear to secrecy when he would sneak in. They were great at keeping secrets when it helped their sister's love life, and her health. She had gotten so used to Luke sleeping in her bed, it was weird to think there was a time when he wasn't.

The first time it happened, she had almost jumped out of her skin.

It was right before the kids left, when everyone started to get uneasy about the Lightning Bolt. She had made a random comment that day when her and Luke were sitting on the dock, because she was too tried from her lack of sleep. They had been 'dating' for two months now, and even before she would tell him these things as his best friend. She had almost fallen asleep with her head resting against his shoulder, and he had shaken her awake. She stumbled to her cabin, not even wanting to tell her siblings about the night, but she couldn't sleep.

Everyone knew she had problems sleeping, so they tried to be as quiet as possible. They let her keep her window open, even though it dried their skin. And though her body was absolutely begging her to sleep, her mind wouldn't turn off.

She jumped out of her skin when she heard Luke's low voice.

"Thank the gods your window is already open." She shot up, heart racing. She looked over to see Luke climbing in. "And also thank the gods you live on the bottom bunk." His voice was so quiet she could barely hear, but at least she knew her siblings wouldn't hear. She knew they would never tell Chiron, since they loved a good relationship.

"What are you doing?" She asked, eyes wide and a smile playing on her face. His scar shown in the moonlight as he sat on the windowsill, taking off his shoes. He handed them to her, and she put them down gently on the ground before lowering himself down on her bed.

"I'm gonna help you sleep." He told her, looking at her in a way that made her heart race just a little. Even in the little privacy, where no one could see them, he was caring for her.

"You don't have to." She turned her head down, feeling self conscious in her bonnet. He smiled at her.

"I want to."

The two settled in, Y/N lifting up the covers for Luke to come under. They switched positions so she could sleep next to the wall, his arms around her immediately. She felt so secure and safe in his arms, more relaxed than she had felt in weeks. He settled his face against her head, giving the softest kiss to her forehead. So soft she was questioning it as her mind drifted away.

When she woke up, she was in his arms. The sun was up, and it was much later than she had woken up in the past month.

"Tell him I went on a walk. And she's sick." Luke was whispering, his voice rumbling in his chest that Y/N was laying against. Given the small size of the bed, they were entangled. Her legs were fused with his, her torso stuck between the wall and Luke's body. Her hand was entangled into his sleep shirt, and she didn't untangle it because that would have given up that she was awake. And she wanted to stay like this a little longer.

And she was enjoying the warm light and the nice morning.

"You know he'll come in here anyway." A boy was saying, but Y/N didn't want to listen. Without thinking, she rubbed her face into Luke's shirt, trying to get more comfortable. She rubbed a leg against his, shifting and sighing.

"If you wake her up," Luke's voice sounded venomous, and it made her start to smile a little. Her head felt so light but also so heavy in a good way. She didn't think she could feel that way.

"Fine, I'm gone." The guy said, and Y/N heard his footsteps walk away. She stretched for a second, settling down so that her leg was thrown over his and she was more on top of him than against the wall. Her hand relaxed, still holding onto his shirt but not as tightly.

"You awake?" Luke whispered so quietly for a moment he didn't think she heard him.

"No." She said quietly, feeling her breathing even out.

"Alright." He brushes his hand against her back, soothing her even more. "Let me know when you're awake."

All the Aphrodite kids were working overtime to make sure that Chiron never found out that Luke was sneaking into the cabin and also to keep the Hermes cabin from snitching. And also from keeping the harpies from killing Luke.

It was a full-time job.

They usually slept in Y/N's bunk, because her siblings just wanted her to be happy. They all knew that she was supposed to break someone's heart, but they tried not to talk about it. No one else knew about the deadline.

"Can you tell me how you got your scar?" Y/N asked one night, tracing the mark as they laid in bed. She had been getting so much sleep with him that she was able to stay up a little bit with him now and whisper low enough that no one else could hear.

"You don't wanna hear about it before it before you go to bed." He whispers, eyes going dark and hand grabbing hers, stopping her from touching it. Her heart drops, and she feels like a little kid scolded.

"You never told me." She mutters, not wanting to push but wanting to know. They'd gotten so close now that she wanted to know everything about him before she no longer had an excuse to be around him all the time.

Oh gods, how was she going to sleep without him?

"You're already overthinking." He whispers, and she just huffs and tries her hardest to turn from him while his arms are around her and she's also stuck between him and the wall. For a moment she thought about throwing herself over him and getting up, just to prove a point, but she knew that was taking things a little too far.

"I just wanted to be there for you like you are for me." She knew that didn't have nightmares like most demigods did; at least, if he got them, he hadn't had any since he'd been with her. But she also knew no one could deal with everything on their own, and if he wasn't telling her, who else was he telling?

"I'm okay." He tells her, settling in and making her start to get comfortable again. She stretched, leaned against him and let her eyes close, trying to forget about his scar.

Something about the conversation rubbed her the wrong way.

The kids returned and the war was avoided, and now Annabeth seemed to have her own relationship problems. It made Y/N relieved, then sad, because she remembered that her own relationship was fake. In a few short weeks, she would have to 'break' Luke's heart. But that was in the future, and she could put it off as long as she could. She didn't want to have to break his heart, because she had a feeling it would only break her's.

Everything had been going great until her mother showed up.

This time, it hadn't been an IM. This time, her mother was waiting for her in the strawberry fields where she was supposed to meet with Luke.

"Mom?" Y/N asked, not sure if she was seeing correctly. Her mother's beautiful face brightened, and Y/N just blinked. She had never met her mother in person.

"My favorite child." Her mother said, making Y/N's eyes widen. She thought Silena was her favorite child. "I am so proud of you."

"What?" Y/N had been planning on talking to Luke about their breakup tonight, but her mother thew her off.

"You've broken the most talented swordsman's heart! The pain, oh, it almost breaks my own heart." Aphrodite put her hands over her own heart, and Y/N just furrowed her eyebrows.

"But, I haven't broken Luke's heart yet." Y/N says, thinking about how weird Luke had been acting when he asked to meet her there. She thought it was about them breaking up, but what if it was something else. Could he tell that she had fallen?

"No?" Her mother looked genuinely confused. "I sense such distress, such a hole of love in his heart." Y/N had never seen a god confused, and she didn't like this.

"Something's wrong." Y/N muttered, flinching when fireworks began to be set off.

"Yes," Her mother said gravely, grabbing her daughter's hand. "I will help you find him and set this right." She said it as if Y/N was supposed to break his heart over the pain he must've been feeling. Before she could protest, her mother was teleporting her. She ended up in front of Luke in the forest, her mother no where to be found. Luke looked angry, his sword was pointing right at her. It was actually pressing lightly into her chest, which made no sense. Luke would never do that.

"Y/N?" He asked, eyes widening. The anger melted away a little bit, but he still didn't look like the version of him she knew.

"What are you doing?" She asked, watching him lower his sword but not his guard. His eyes caught on something behind her, and she turned.

Percy was standing there, eyes wide and scared. He had his own sword in his hand, arms lifted in defense.

"Get out of the way, Y/N." Percy said, sounding older than his twelve years. It scared her, seeing this kid forced to mature.

"What are you doing?" She repeated, turning back to Luke. His expression had hardened slightly, but it still wasn't as angry as he had been when she first showed up.

"You don't want any part of this." Luke's voice was deep and dark, and Y/N felt her heart drop to her stomach.

"What have you done?" She rephrased, eyes wide as the fear sprinkled through her body in cold waves.

"What I had to." Luke said, as if that explained everything. "The gods are against us. They need us, but they don't care about us. I mean, have you ever even spoke with your mom is person?" He was trying to use her, and it hurt her feelings.

"I just did." She said quietly, turning fully to Luke. "And she told me you were heartbroken." She reveled at the shock that washed over his face.

"She must have been feeling someone else." Luke answered, and Y/N just shook her head.

"Luke, please." She walked toward him, grabbing his free hand. "We had something. We were pretending to date but you can't tell me you were acting the whole time." She felt tears in her eyes now. "Luke, I love you." She whispered finally. Filling the silence was the wind in the trees, the distant sound of fireworks. But not Luke's voice. He stayed quiet for a moment.

"It'll pass." He tells her quietly, tilting his head.

He might as well have stabbed her, the words hurt so bad. Using her shock, he threw his sword up, and not even letting go of her hand he caught it the opposite way, using the bottom to hit her head and send her to the ground.

"Goodbye," He muttered as he let her hand slip from his, stepping over her to face Percy.

Y/N could hear the breaking of her heart as she let her eyes close.

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x reader fluff and angst #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan imagine

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fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat · 2 years ago

Text

Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand)

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: It was Steve's fault you got hurt last time, and it's Steve's fault again this time, too.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, mentions of being sick, blood, mentions of s3 events, lots and lots of crying

Word Count: 4409

Notes: Hello everyone I kinda poured my heart and soul into this pls enjoy

My Masterlist! - Series Masterlist!

Next Chapter!

July 5th, 1985 - 4:05 am

Steve had already decided what he was going to tell his parents about the state of his face. He was at a party, he’d say, and got into a fight with some drunk asshole who was hitting on you a little too hard. He tried to tell him to fuck off, but the guy got mad and threw the first punch. Steve won, of course.

A semi-believable story that involved zero Soviet torture doctors.

You’d made it out of the night without any black eyes or broken noses, but there was a sizable gash peeking out from under your hairline. The blood that had dripped from your temple down to your neck had been wiped away by one of the EMT’s, so the cut was really only visible if you already knew it was there. It wasn’t bad enough to warrant stitches, thankfully, but that did very little to quell Steve’s incessant worry. He didn’t like the way your whole body was trembling. Or the way your tights were ripped.

It took hours for the two of you to be able to go home, made longer by the mountains of contracts and NDA’s you were forced to sign. Steve had already gotten the super secret security rundown twice before. “You’ll probably end up with a good chunk of hush money, at least,” he had joked with you. “All of us did.”

You trailed behind Steve like a lost puppy as he unlocked his front door. He was just happy that you were alive at all.

You, for whatever reason, hadn’t made it into the same interrogation room as Robin and Steve. You weren’t there when Dustin and Erica arrived to get them, and you were nowhere to be seen during the big fight. Steve hadn’t even realized that you weren’t with them until whatever he’d been injected with was out of his system, but he was plunged into an ice cold panic the moment that he did. He begged Hopper to let him go back and look for you, though the idea got shot down immediately (‘Because clearly, you did so great down there the first time!’). Funnily enough, it was actually Murray, of all people, who found you first. He said you were about two seconds away from breaking his nose, if not for the fact that you were chained to the steel bench built into the wall.

The house was empty. Steve’s parents were spending the holiday weekend with his aunt and uncle two states away; thankfully, Steve hadn’t been dragged along this time. He always thought his dad’s brother was a creep anyway. Your parents were across the street, most likely sleeping soundly at the thought that their daughter was just out at a house party like a regular 18 year old. Of course, nothing about any of this was regular.

Steve’s usual post-saving-of-world routine was to down two doses of ibuprofen, take the hottest shower known to man, and sleep for a day, and there was definitely a part of him that wanted to do just that, but you were still hovering behind him like a ghost. Steve clicked on the lamp on the table next to the sofa as the two of you entered the living room.

“Sit, okay?” he told you. “I’ll find you some pajamas or something.”

You nodded to him, sullen and shaky, and lowered yourself into the pristine couch. It was cream colored and satiny, like it was designed to be easy to stain, and Steve had never actually been allowed to sit on it when he was little.

His whole body ached, but he trudged up the stairs anyway. He ducked into his own room to quickly strip off his decidedly disgusting uniform and put on a too-big sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants before picking out something for you. Steve came back down to find you wincing as you slowly pulled off your shoes.

“Jesus,” Steve remarked at the state of the white socks that slouched around your ankles over your tights. The backs were drenched in angry red, spread all the way around the heel and down the sides, and the nylon of your tights had big holes worn through that exposed just how ripped up the skin of your heels had become.

“I decided to put on new shoes this morning,” you sighed. “Hadn’t broken them in yet.”

While humiliating, he and Robin’s Scoops uniforms were actually pretty comfortable. The sneakers Steve had worn to work that day had held up wonderfully to all the walking (and running for his life) that he’d had to do all night, but you worked at one of the fancy department stores. You couldn’t wear sneakers or comfortable shorts, you had to wear smart, grown up clothes. You’d been running around all night in a pair of brand new, shiny black mary-janes and a skirt. It made Steve feel just a little bit sick to his stomach to think about.

“Fuck,” Steve huffed out. “Alright, hold on. There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

Steve bandaged up your ankles, carefully cleaning the wounds with the softest cloth he could find and cursing himself when you made a noise at the pain.

God, this was all his fault.

“You can take the room next to mine, if you want,” Steve said after you’d changed. “My parents won’t be home until Monday, so we won’t have to worry about them at all.”

“Okay,” you said, voice mouseish. You’d been to Steve’s house a million times before; you grew up across the street, the only other person his age in a neighborhood full of elderly couples and houses for sale. Even before Steve de-assholed, you’d still sneak out of the house to come drink stolen beers on the roof of his garage on the nights when he couldn’t stand to sleep.

That being said, ‘welcoming’ was not really a word you’d use to describe the Harrington household. The guest room next to Steve’s was, similar to the living room, untouched and pristine. Perfectly made bed, easily palettable decor, somehow devoid of dust despite the fact that it was clear no one had used the room in a very long time. The bed had a pink comforter, a dusty-rose kind of color.

The two of you had only been apart for an hour, maybe less, before Steve heard a knock on his bedroom door. He opened it to find your teary eyes on the other side.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Steve asked. He couldn’t either.

“I can’t-” you stuttered out. “I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

Steve knew the feeling.

He stepped out of the doorway to make room for you to come in. The pair of you stood too close to one another in the middle of his room in heavy, suffocating silence.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered.

“Don’t be,” you replied. You stepped forward and pressed your forehead against his shoulder.

“I am, though. I got you wrapped up in this fucking mess,” Steve said as he wrapped you up in a hug. “And now you’re hurt, and it’s my fault.”

“I’m the one who wanted to help you guys. I could’a just gone home, but I chose to stay. You didn’t do that, I did.”

“I still think you deserve to be mad at me.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, with Steve above your head wishing he could go back in time and fix all of this before it had the chance to get back to you.

“They told me you were dead,” you admitted through the quiet.

“What?”

“After they pulled me away,” you explained. “You and Robin, they told me you were both dead.”

“Oh, my god,” Steve huffed out. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry.”

You muttered his name into his collar bone, and Steve pulled away just enough to be able to look at you. You were crying now, but so was he, and fuck, he wanted to kiss you. Kiss all of the tears away, and pull all of the horrible, fucked up things that had happened to you out of your memory, and as you stood looking at him, Steve realized that you had gotten the memo.

You leaned up and kissed him, so incredibly soft, making sure to be careful of his split lip. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as his hands came to meet the junction of your jawline and neck.

You pulled away from him first, tears still silently spilling from your eyes, and he touched his forehead to yours.

“I’m really happy you’re not dead.”

February, 1989

Steve was entirely zoned out behind the counter at Family Video when the shrill ring of the phone broke through his trance

“Thank you for calling your local Family Video. My name is Steve, how can I help you today?” Steve regurgitated the same spiel as he does every time he picks up the phone.

“What time do you get off work tonight?” you asked him. Steve knew your voice in an instant, and even through the crackle of the phone, he could hear that something was wrong.

“Eight. Why?” Steve inquired.

“I need you to come over,” you said. “It’s an emergency.”

Steve’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“Should I be calling Hopper?” he asked you. If something. . . upside down-ish was happening again, he was gonna lose his shit.

“No, nothing like that,�� you clarified, and Steve let out a silent breath of relief. “It’s an entirely non-supernatural emergency.”

“Do you want me to come over now? I’m the boss-man. I can leave whenever I want,” Steve joked. He was trying his damnedest to hear your laugh come from the other end of the line.

“You’re a shift lead, Steve.”

“Yeah. Boss-man.”

There was only silence on the line for a moment.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble, is all,” you explained, and it made Steve's heart ache just a touch.

“It’s fine, I won't,” Steve said to placate your worry. “Twenty minutes, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you said, though you didn’t sound thrilled. It made Steve worry even more as he hung up the phone.

Steve knew the two of you were wildly codependent on each other. Believe him, Robin had been reminding him constantly over the past year since she’d caught the two of you in a house party bathroom.

The fact that the pair of you hadn’t actually made it official yet, despite the fact that you’d been sleeping with each other with relative consistency for three and half years, definitely didn’t help matters at all.

‘You are in love with her,’ Robin loved to point out. ‘And pretending to not be in love with her while also sleeping together is going to destroy your brain!’

She was right, of course. It absolutely was destroying his brain, but if he had to pick between having a destroyed brain but also having you, or not having a destroyed brain but also not having you, he’d pick a destroyed brain anyday. Even if he thought (knew) you didn’t necessarily feel the same way he did.

Steve parked his car in the empty space next to yours in your apartment building’s lot. He knew the code to the building’s door by heart now, and he’d had a spare key to your apartment for the last six months.

He let himself in, making sure to lock the door behind him once he was inside, and saw you shaking like a leaf on the couch.

Steve paused for a moment before he dropped his car keys onto the little table by the door. He was instantly plunged into crisis-management mode.

In recent years, Steve had become quite familiar with crisis management mode; put all the feelings to the side, and deal with the situation at hand. Was it healthy to stub out all of the mushy shit like that? No, probably not, but emotional healing was a lot easier to do when he didn’t have the threat of interdimensional horror hanging over his head.

Though, over the phone, you had promised him there was no interdimensional horror at the moment.

He toed off his shoes and rounded the coffee table to crouch in front of you. Your eyes followed his every movement, wide and glassy and enough to make Steve’s rib cage feel like it was about to cave in. He took your hands in his.

“What happened?” he asked you.

You shut your eyes, forcing more tears down the slope of your cheek. A small, quiet sob escaped your lips as you dipped your forehead onto Steve’s shoulder. He brought a hand up to graze over the back of your head, holding you close to him.

You were tougher than you looked, always had been. That wasn’t to say that Steve ever thought you were weak, but you were timid and quiet. Shy since birth, you never really stood out to Steve as a fighter until he saw you crack a Russian soldier over the back of the head with his own gun. You’d had a fire in your eyes that could’ve rivaled Nancy’s that night, before you had all been separated from one another. That fire was decidedly missing right now, though. Your tears seemed to have extinguished it.

“Hey, hey. Tell me what’s going on, yeah?” Steve asked.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered into his neck. You sounded small and, more pressingly, fucking terrified. Steve did his best to place a hand on either side of your face and pull back to get a good look at you, though you clearly didn’t want to be pulled away from your spot tucked into the collar of his crew-neck.

“Sorry for what, baby?” Pet names had previously been reserved for dirty-talk purposes only, but you’d started calling him ‘handsome’ a few months back as a joke (which quickly became much less of a joke), and now that rule had been thrown out the window. One more blurry boundary line in your relationship. “I wanna help, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Steve,” you murmured.

“You’re scaring me,” Steve told you, and it was true. “Is it something with your mom? Did she call?”

“No. She won’t. You know she won’t.”

“Then what’s happening? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this upset, and I will do everything I can to help, but-”

“I’m pregnant.”

You whispered it and Steve swore he felt his heart stop.

“What?” he whispered back. Surely you didn’t mean it. Surely he had to have misheard you.

“I’m pregnant.”

Definitely hadn’t misheard you, then.

“You-” It felt a bit like his brain had been replaced by cotton balls. “How sure are you?”

“Uhm, I took a test here, and it came back positive, but the box said that you can get false results sometimes, so I waited a couple days and took another one, but then that said the same thing,” you rambled. “So then, I went to that clinic on Poplar and got a blood test, and they called me earlier today and said that that one was positive, too.”

“Very sure,” Steve said in response to your onslaught.

You only nodded in agreement.

Steve could hear the drip drip drip of your leaky kitchen sink, the sound of your cat batting around his favorite toy mouse, your neighbors downstairs fighting like they did most nights. He could hear your ragged breathing, and the beginnings of your quiet sobs, and his own heartbeat in his ears. He didn’t know what to say to you, how to get you to calm down, and he didn’t think he had the mental capacity to figure it out right now, so he didn’t say anything at all. You stayed quiet too, tucked away in your own little world of the smell of Steve’s cologne and the soft of his hair.

Steve was about two seconds away from completely shutting down when your pitiful voice sliced through the silence.

“Steve, I don’t know what to do.”

That kicked his brain back into gear.

“That’s okay,” he said from his spot on the floor. His emotions get tucked underneath the floorboards so he can deal with yours first. “It’s okay. You don’t have to know right now.”

And you two stayed there, you on your couch and him with his back pressed against the hard edge of your coffee table, for a good long while. Your sniffles had graduated to full on bawling and you were clinging to him like he was a liferaft. You were petrified. His head was swimming and he felt a little bit like his heart might explode, but he wasn’t about to let you know that.

Logically, the next step would be to talk about. . . all of it. What you wanted to do, and what that would look like, and all of it, but you weren’t able to get a word in. Even though Steve knew it was what needed to happen next, the thought of actually having to face the music made him feel sick.

“We’ll figure it out, alright?” Steve said into your hair. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

You just sort of fell limp against him once you had run out of tears. Steve’s back was starting to cramp up from being squished against the table, and when he moved to plant himself onto the sofa next to you, you stayed adhered to his side.

“Steve, I don’t-”

“I know. It’s okay.” I don’t know what to do had become your mantra of the evening. Steve was in the exact same boat, though, and the best idea he’d had all night was distraction, so distraction it would be. He paused for a moment before asking you, “are you hungry?”

You tilted your gaze to him, looking confused.

“How ‘bout I go and get us something to eat from that diner you like, and we can watch a movie or something. Then we can talk about it in the morning, yeah?” Steve suggested. You didn’t seem all that on board with the idea, though. “Is that okay?”

“I can’t keep anything down,” you explained after a moment.

Oh, yeah. People get sick when they're pregnant. Steve hadn’t really thought about that part yet.

“Right. Well, have you tried at all today?” he inquired. You shook your head.

“Not since last night.”

Great. You’re already terrified and now you can’t even eat.

“Look, I’ll get you a grilled cheese, and an extra large Sprite for your stomach in case the sandwich doesn’t work out, and I’ll stay here with you all night,” Steve said.

“Okay,” you said with a nod and a sad smile. You seemed to understand what he was doing, though you showed no signs of protest. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve said as he got up and slipped his feet back into his shoes. He scooped up his keys and shot you a smile before opening the door. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

You nodded, giving him the green light to leave. He half-jogged down the stairwell and out into the parking lot, and he barely made it into the driver’s seat before he started crying.

Guilt settled in his chest in an instant at the thought, but the first thing that popped into his head when he was finally alone was that his dad was going to fucking kill him. And not just in a figurative, ‘oh no I scratched the car, dad’s gonna kill me’ kind of way; his father was going to pick up a weapon and actually kill him. Then, Hopper was gonna kill him after his dad did. You two weren’t even actually dating; how was he going to explain any of this? ‘Hey, dad! I accidentally knocked up my not-quite-girlfriend/best friend with benefits!’ That’ll go over splendidly. That’s two people added to the list of people who wanted to kill him.

What was going to happen next, then? He was having difficulty figuring out the answer.

Whatever you wanted to do, obviously, but you didn’t know what that was, and yeah, he was scared shitless, but you were beyond terrified. Scared in a way Steve had never seen you before. That made him feel about a million times worse.

‘Cause he was still just a shitty kid, who still lived with his shitty parents and worked a shitty job, and even with his shitty promotion, he still made a shitty wage. A shitty wage that definitely wouldn’t be enough to raise a kid, and-

He was spiraling, he could feel it, and he’d never been more grateful to see the glowing neon of an OPEN sign in his life.

He parked the car. He got out of the car. He opened the door to the restaurant. He walked up to the counter and a girl he used to know from high school took his to-go order. If he remembered correctly, she was a tattoo apprentice.

“You alright?” possible-tattoo-apprentice ask Steve after ringing in the food. “You seem a little, I don’t know, freaked out.”

“Yeah,” Steve replied with a tight lipped smile and curt nod. “Yeah, no. I’m good.”

She looked right through his lie, but moved on to a couple of older men sitting at the counter with coffee refills anyway.

Steve, in the ten minutes it took for the food to come out, stood leaning against the wall in utter silence. In that silence, he allowed himself to live in what was probably an irresponsible thought; the one where the two of you actually did have a kid, and a house, and maybe a dog if he’s lucky. Something that maybe was a lot less far off in the future than he thought. Steve used to want kids, when he was younger. Maybe it was just the fact that he’d had every single stereotype of the American dream shoved down his throat his whole life, but he really had wanted it at one point. That was before everything, though. Before the monsters, and the chaos, and all the awful shit he’d roped you into. Before it all came back, and then came back again, again, again. Any dream of a family had been stubbed out by the fear that it could all one day be ripped apart.

Despite that, despite the fact that he knew every single reason that it could never happen like the back of his goddamn hand, he did nothing to try and save himself from drowning in the fantasy. The image of you holding his baby made his chest go tight and he wanted it more than anything in the world, but fuck, what happens if everything goes to shit again? He had done a pretty awful job at keeping you away from it the first few times, you had the nightmares to prove it, so how could he possibly protect his kid from it, too?

The food came out and he was rocked back into reality.

He left the restaurant, stopping on the way back to your apartment at a 7/11 for the Sprite he had promised. He grabbed some anti-nausea medicine too, but it wasn’t until he got into the car that he realized there was a big warning on the back of the box: ‘Do not take if you are pregnant or breastfeeding.’

Awesome.

He did his best to scrub any evidence of tears out of his eyes in the rearview mirror, and got out of the car.

You were waiting for him on the couch, just as you had been when he had left. You smiled at him when he walked through the door, still the sad self pitying kind, but a smile nonetheless.

“I come bearing grilled cheese,” he said as he placed the bag on the coffee table. The joke didn’t land.

“You were crying?” you asked once you were able to get a good look at him, the shake in your voice back once again. Clearly he hadn’t done a good enough job in the rear view.

“N-no, no. I wasn’t, I-”

“You were,” you interrupted him, and Steve knew better than to try and deny it. You looked like you were about to start crying again, too, and Steve could feel the twist of the knife in his side. He rounded the table to sit next to you, and you drew yourself into him in an instant. Tucked into his arms, you did start crying again (how you had any tears left, Steve didn’t know) and just barely whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey. No sorries, okay?” he said. You wouldn’t look up at him, just shook your head. “Look, if we’re gonna blame anybody, it should probably be me, right?”

Thankfully, that line was enough to finally bubble a laugh out of your chest.

“I’m serious!” Steve took the joke and ran with it in a desperate attempt to lift your spirits even in the slightest. “I mean, it was my, y’know. . . fluids.”

“Oh, gross, dude!” you exclaimed, playfully slapping his shoulder as you sat up straight. “Don’t say it like that!”

“That’s just biology, babe.”

“I know that, I just don’t want to have to think about your fluids when I’m trying to eat,” you quipped at him as you pulled the styrofoam boxes out of the bag on the table, opening the first of the two and passing it his way. It seemed like you were feeling better, and even if you were faking it, Steve would take it.

“Hey,” Steve called to you through the quiet chatter of the TV after a moment. You turned your face to meet his and the moment his eyes locked on to yours, it seemed like every word he had wanted to say to you had slipped out of his mind. Your voice reeled them all back in, though.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever you wanna do, okay?” he stuttered out. He was pretty sure he might start crying again.

“Right. Yeah.” Your smile faded in an instant at the reminder of the situation.

“And whatever that, y’know, looks like,” Steve continues. “I’ll be right next to you, holding your hand the whole time.”

You give him a pitiful, heart crushing smile, and the pair of you didn’t bring it up again all night.

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