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#THIS CONNECTION HAUNTS MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT
akkivee · 4 months
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SOMEBODY NEEDS TO STOP RHYME ANIMA (DONT)
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pillowspace · 3 months
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Every day I think about the greatest fanfics I've ever read in every fandom I've been in. Every single daydream I have manages to connect itself to those fics. They haunt my every waking moment, even after I leave the fandom. I love people who decide they're gonna write a fun little story for their little silly guys and then it changes how I think forever
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You Drew Stars Around My Scars
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader meet one day and the connection is instantaneous. Azriel becomes worried though, when Reader starts showing up late to their dates more consistently. When the truth comes out, they need to figure out how to keep moving forward.
Based on this request! Thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it! 🩷
Word Count: 3.8k
The market was bustling today and Azriel cringed slightly, pulling his wings in even tighter behind him. He had no idea why Amren had insisted that he be the one to pick up the items she needed for her new project. Perhaps because she knew that he would be the least likely to complain. 
He was approaching the stall that carried what Amren needed when his gaze snagged on someone at a neighboring one and he stopped dead in his tracks, causing the people around him to curse and move around him, irritated.
Azriel barely heard it though, his attention fully on you. You had a simple dress on, but it accentuated your curves beautifully, your hair was loose, falling down your back in ringlets. The way you moved was graceful as you picked up an item to inspect. 
But your smile as you talked to the owner of the stall, the way it lit up your face with such kindness… that is what made Azriel’s knees feel like they were about to give out.
He longed to approach you, but by the time that he had come to his senses enough to start moving, you too had moved, working your way through the market. It was so crowded that he lost track of you. 
Crestfallen, he went back to the stall and got the supplies for Amren. 
---
Days later, Azriel still could not get you out of his mind. That damn smile haunted his dreams and his every waking moment. 
So much so, that at the earliest opportunity, he went back to the market, his eyes raking the crowd for any sign of you. He seriously contemplated flying up to a rooftop for a better angle, but that would probably be frowned upon. 
He perused the market, feeling a bit foolish. The Night Court’s spymaster, reduced to wandering around the market on his day off like a lost puppy in hopes of finding a woman he didn’t even know.
His spirits lifted dramatically though, when he saw you. You were perusing a stall, inspecting a jar with a shiny liquid inside. 
Azriel didn’t let himself hesitate this time, dodging people milling about as he strode for you. Eventually, he appeared at your side, and you looked up at him, so surprised to suddenly see a large, looming male next to you, that you dropped the jar that you were holding.
Smoothly, he caught it before it hit the ground and offered it to you. Your eyes sparked with recognition as you studied him: the wings, the Illyrian clothing, the shadows twirling around his biceps. 
Your fingers brushed his as you took the jar back from him and you murmured, “Thank you.”
He nodded, offering you a faint smile, not sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.
“You’re the High Lord’s shadowsinger,” you said, looking up at him, sounding a little breathless.
“I am. But most people just call me Azriel,” he said, a note of humor edging his voice.
That smile you had offered the others before was now turned on him, and he felt as if the ground was swaying underneath him. You offered him your name, before saying, “I feel a bit like I’m meeting a celebrity.”
Azriel could feel slight heat in his cheeks, and tried to maintain the neutral expression he nearly always wore. He waved his hand dismissively, “Trust me, I’m not. Cassian is more of the celebrity. I mostly blend into the shadows.”
You tilted your head, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, studying the hard line of his jaw, his hazel eyes, the curve of his mouth. “That’s a shame,” you said, a little wistfully.
Azriel’s heart was thundering now. “Do you want to get dinner?” 
Your smile widened. “I think I can make that happen. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed. 
You picked the restaurant and the time, and just like that, Azriel had a date.
---
The date was, in his opinion, nothing short of amazing. 
He had arrived a bit early to dinner, and you waltzed up to the restaurant exactly on time, looking like a vision. Part of your hair was braided around your head like a crown, but part was still flowing down over your shoulders, curled. Your dress hugged the curve of your waist, the hem landing midway down your shin, perfect for the summer. 
You beamed as you approached him, and Azriel had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady. The two of you were seated outside, watching the sun set over the river. 
The conversation was easy. You kept it light and playful, grazing your hand against his bicep every once in a while when you laughed, the sound bright and beautiful.
Flirting, he realized. You were flirting with him. Laughing with him. Making him laugh.
Mother, when was the last time he had felt like this?
Had he ever felt like this?
After dinner ended, you stood up and gently took his hand in yours, tugging lightly so he stood up too, towering over you. “Do you want to take a walk?” you asked, your eyes sparkling under the stars that were out by then. 
“Lead the way,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up into a smile.
You led him to the artists’ quarter, the lights vibrant against the night. He watched as your eyes lit up at the site, marveling at all the artwork, the people milling about. 
“Oh, look!” you exclaimed, excitedly pulling him to a painting of the mountains surrounding Velaris. “It’s beautiful,” you told the painter, who nodded in thanks, smiling.
Azriel couldn’t help but stare as you took in the painting, your eyes alight. 
“Are you a painter?” he asked.
“I try to be,” you grinned at him. “I’m not very good.”
Before he could respond, another painting caught your eye and you gasped, tugging on his hand, leading him through the crowd. Azriel laughed, and you turned back to smile at him, your whole face lighting up. His heart swelled.
On and on you went, his lifeboat pulling him through the sea of artists. He could have gone on like that forever, he thought. 
You were about to pull him to another painting when you suddenly turned to him, flushed. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”
Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.”
You smiled, seeming shy all of a sudden. “It’s late,” you said. “I should probably head back.” 
“Can I walk you home?”
Your smile grew and you nodded your head for him to follow. Your arms brushed as you walked, taking in the night air. 
It was a short walk to your house, and you stopped before the door and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Azriel. Tonight was… amazing.”
Azriel couldn’t help but smile back at you. “It was.”
You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly before turning to the door, and Azriel said your name, stopping you before you could open it. “Can I see you again?”
You beamed. “Meet me by the Rainbow in two days?”
Smirking, Azriel said, “Absolutely.”
---
Azriel could hardly focus on anything else while he waited to see you again. His friends absolutely knew something was up with him, but did not pester him about it. Yet. 
Two days after the initial date, Azriel was waiting in the Rainbow, where you had told him you wanted to meet. 
He waited. And waited.
Trying to stomp down his growing anxiety that you wouldn’t show, he gazed at the art around him. You had been right on time to your first date. Had you changed your mind about him?
He was about to walk through the artists’ quarter, wondering if he had not remembered correctly where you wanted to meet, when you finally arrived, your cheeks flushed, but you looked beautiful as ever. 
“I’m so sorry,” you said, a little breathless. “Something came up -- it’s hard to explain. I swear I tried to be on time.” 
Azriel was just glad that you had come. “It’s alright,” he smiled reassuringly. 
Your eyes twinkled under the stars, relieved. “Thank you.”
His smile widened and he lightly squeezed your upper arm, trying to soothe you. 
You smiled slowly and arched an eyebrow, mischief written all over your face. “So, I had an idea.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
Laughing, you said, “Let’s go dancing.”
Azriel’s smile dropped. You laughed even more. “Dancing,” he repeated. 
“Dancing,” you grinned.
“I can’t dance.” 
“Oh, please. Everyone can dance.” 
“Not me,” Azriel said, smiling despite himself.
“Please,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him and looking up at him from under her lashes. “For me?”
Azriel sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You knew you already had him wrapped around his little finger. “Fine.”
You squealed with delight, taking his hand in yours and walking in the direction of the Velaris night clubs. Azriel tried to focus on the positives: your soft hand in his, how happy you were, how your hair bounced as you walked.
By the time you got to the nightclub, Azriel’s felt like his heart was in his throat. He really did not dance.
But you strode right in, glancing back at him with the biggest smile on your face. You led him right into the middle of the crowd of people pulsing with the music. 
He stood still and watched as you moved your hips, your arms up above your head, twirling around like you didn’t have a care in the world. I could easily fall in love with this woman, he thought. Easily.
You turned back to him and laughed brightly, placing your hands on his hips, trying to make them move. He didn’t budge, which made you laugh even more. “Come on, shadowsinger. Live a little!”
He wanted to, if only to make you happy, but he couldn’t focus on anything but your hands on him and that smile that knocked the breath out of his lungs.
Studying him for a moment, you said over the music, “Okay, I see we need to try a different tactic,” you said, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the edge of the dance floor, where it was less crowded. 
You stepped right up to him then, so your bodies were barely an inch away. You took both of his hands and settled them on your hips, then placed your hands on his shoulders. 
“Don’t think so much, just move,” you said, your voice light and teasing. 
He towered over you, watching as you moved your hips, lightly pushing and pulling on his shoulders so he would move with you. It took nearly a full song, but eventually his body relaxed, letting himself be guided by you.
“There you go,” you grinned. 
Suddenly, the song slowed significantly, and you looked up at him, becoming slightly shy again. 
He gazed down at you, smiling faintly as he pulled you in closer to him, keeping one hand at your waist and taking one of your hands in his. 
Azriel swore he saw your breath catch as you studied his face, eyes slightly wide. Azriel tightened his grip on you slightly when your eyes dipped to his mouth and lingered there. 
Holding his breath, he leaned in slowly, stopping a breath away from your lips, giving you a moment to back up if you wanted to. But, you surged forward, connecting your mouth with his. 
He smiled into the kiss, bringing a scarred hand up to gently cup your cheek. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, and as the music swelled to a crescendo, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You gasped into his mouth, bending your knees as he held you in the air. 
Gently, he set you down a few moments later, and when he pulled back, you were smiling, your cheeks dusted red. 
“That might have been the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, your tone teasing, but your eyes alight. 
“Me too,” Azriel murmured, unable to tear his gaze away from your beautiful face. 
The two of you spent hours together, and Azriel found himself unable to keep his hands off you. You seemed the same way, always placing a hand on his arm, on his shoulder, while he rested his hand on your hips, the small of your back, or held your hand in his. 
For hours, he watched you dance, and willed his body to move with you, only because your eyes shined, your smile bright, when he did so.
At the end of the night, he walked you home once again, this time pulling you in by the waist and kissing you until you were breathless, twining his hand into your soft hair, your hands on his face.
---
Weeks passed, and the two of you kept meeting as often as your schedules would allow. 
Azriel would have been on cloud nine… except that he was starting to have his doubts. When the two of you were together, it was amazing, a connection and energy that he had never felt with anybody before. In the privacy of his own mind, he was even willing to concede that he had absolutely fallen for you.
But he couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect. You had been late to nearly every date. He would always be unnerved waiting for you, thinking that this would be the time that you would leave him hanging, never to be heard from again. But then, you would come, always breathless, like you had rushed to get there, and would apologize profusely, but never giving an explanation. Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if you were not as interested in him as he was in you.
He considered talking to Cassian or Rhys about it, but had a suspicion that they would not be very helpful.
So eventually, he decided just to talk to you about it. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to keep seeing him if you didn’t want to.
There was clearly movement in your house as he approached. He took a deep breath before knocking.
Your eyes were wide in surprise, but not unhappy, when you opened the door. “Azriel,” you smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, quietly. 
You opened your mouth to respond, but before anything could come out, a little boy, a toddler came running to the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Azriel hulking in the doorway. 
The boy gaped at Azriel, his mouth hanging open in shock, before turning to you, “Mom! That’s the shadowsinger!” he squealed, running up to said shadowsinger and wrapping his tiny arms around Azriel’s legs, his head not even meeting Azriel’s knees. The boy looked up at Azriel in awe, “you are so cool.”
Azriel’s head spun, trying to process the information in front of him, but he couldn’t focus over the feeling of his heart absolutely melting as he gazed at this boy, full of such joy. He patted the boy’s back, smiling. “You think so?”
He nodded vigorously, his curly hair that matched his mother’s flicking over his eyes. “I wish I could be a spy.”
Azriel grinned. “I can teach you, if your mom says it’s okay.”
The boy gasped, and Azriel looked at you for the first time since your son had made himself known. You looked like you were about to cry, your hands clasped in front of you. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.
“Honey, why don’t you go play for a little bit?” you said, your voice slightly shaky, steering your son into the other room. “Mom has to talk to Mr. Shadowsinger about grownup stuff for a little bit.”
He pouted a bit, but did as he was told, reluctantly untangling himself from Azriel and toddling into the next room.
You sighed when you were alone with Azriel, searching his face.
“This is why you’ve been late,” Azriel said, his voice thick with emotion.
You nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Azriel took your hand in his, trying to ground himself. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Your eyes filled with tears, and Azriel’s heart cracked. “Most males aren’t interested in raising someone else’s kid. And I liked you… I was too scared to lose you.”
There was no breath in Azriel’s lungs. He ached for you, for what you had no doubt been through with other males who you tried to date. He wanted to rip them to shreds. Slowly, he leaned down, gently kissing each tear away. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not unless you want me to.” 
You sniffed, looking up at him through damp lashes. “I don’t want you to.”
Azriel smiled softly. “Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.
You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, before he asked, “What’s his name?”
“Jax.”
“Do you think Jax has it in him to be a spymaster?”
You laughed against his chest, and Azriel smiled into your hair. “I think he can be whatever he wants to be.”
He pulled back to look at you, tilting his face down to meet your eye. “Do you want me in his life? If it’s too soon, that’s okay. But I would love to get to know him, eventually.”
That beautiful smile shone on your face as you said, “I would love that.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Azriel taught Jax how to be a spy. They ran around the house, ducking behind furniture, following invisible enemies. 
Azriel glanced at you periodically, reveling in the bright smile on your face, your eyes shining. 
---
Jax became an important fixture in Azriel’s life, often accompanying your dates around Velaris. One day, Azriel had recruited Feyre to help get you all into a painting class for all ages. 
You grinned as Azriel led you and Jax into the studio set up with paints and easels. There were a few other families there, setting up their work stations. 
“Azriel, will you make a painting with me?” Jax asked, his green eyes wide as he looked up at Az.
“Are you sure you don’t want to make your own?” Azriel asked.
Jaz nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, taking Azriel’s hand and leading him to the paint station to pick out colors. Jax chose color after color, handing them all to Azriel, who was grinning, trying to keep hold of all the paints. 
You beamed, your heart full as you watched your son and Azriel together, laughing as they painted together. The easel was set up for Jax to reach it, so Az was sitting on the floor in order to reach it whenever Jax demanded that he contribute to their painting. 
Azriel was smiling and laughing with the boy, adding in elementary looking trees and bushes wherever Jax instructed him. 
By the end, they had a painting that looked very much like a toddler made it. It was nearly impossible to tell who had painted what: Jax or Azriel. 
You laughed as Azriel showed it off to you with a flourish, Jax excitedly bouncing on his toes. “Mom, can we hang this up at home?”
“Of course we can,” you grinned, your heart swelling at Azriel’s soft, loving smile.
Azriel came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at your painting while Jaz was busy admiring his own painting. 
“I thought you said you weren’t very good,” Azriel murmured, his heart swelling as he took in the painting that you had created.
It was of that day, of Azriel and Jax painting together. Jax happily paints while Azriel sits on the floor, grinning at him, holding the palette of paint up for Jax to use.
“Do you like it?” you said quietly. 
“I love it,” he said, nuzzling your neck. “I love you.”
He felt you stiffen beneath his fingers and froze. He had just realized that was the first time he had told you. 
You twisted in his arms, turning to face him, your eyes shining. “I love you too, Az.”
Azriel’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, wishing he wasn’t in public. 
---
By Starfall, the three of you were really starting to feel like a family, and Azriel had never been happier. Cassian and Rhys teased him about it relentlessly, but he knew it was because they were happy for their brother who had finally found happiness like they had.
Azriel kept by your side, his hand on the small of your back as you navigated the crowded balcony on the House of Wind, Jax holding onto your hand. 
The three of you had spent the beginning of the celebration with the rest of Azriel’s family, and even though they had met before, Jax remained completely enamored with Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian, asking them a million questions about being the High Lady, High Lord, and the commander of armies, respectfully. The three just laughed, going along with it until Azriel deemed it was time to give his brothers and his High Lady a break. 
The three of you stood together, holding hands, looking to the sky as the music started and the spirits started to move across the sky, slowly at first, and then thousands of them, shooting across the world like shooting stars. 
Jax watched awestruck for a few minutes before he noticed that there were children playing a game on the far side of the balcony, and he looked to you excitedly, running over to them after you had nodded.
“Stay where we can see you!” Azriel called after him.
You turned to Azriel, hugging his waist, gazing up into his eyes lovingly. 
“What?” Azriel smiled, sliding his hand down your back, making you shiver.
“I’ve just never been this happy,” you murmured.
“I haven’t either,” Azriel said softly, leaning down to kiss you. 
Azriel pulled your body into his then, leading you into a slow, romantic dance underneath the falling stars. 
“Happy Starfall,” he said, gazing down at you with all the love in the world.
“Happy Starfall, Az,” you said.
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areislol · 4 months
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it just won't be the same.
"you were a wonderful experience." "you were... everything."
ft— various genshin male x gn! reader
warning — angst with no comfort,breakup!! intended lowercase, not proofread.
a/n— just putting this out before chapter six of my series, we love that. anywho i have another lil thing on the way as well ^^
wordcount. 1.0k
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truth be told, he missed you. he missed you a lot.
as the days stretched into weeks and the weeks into months, he found himself grappling with the lingering ache of heartbreak that seemed to deepen with every passing moment.
he reminisces about his connection with you, a connection which no longer existed. the apartment they once called "home" echoed with the haunting silence of memories.
he... remembers how he had grown accustomed to waking up alone. for years, the empty space beside him seemed to mirror the loneliness that lingered in his heart. but when a serendipitous twist of fate introduced him to you, he found himself waking up in bed alongside his lover who admiringly gazes at him.
for once he felt happiness, he would've never imagined himself to finally find the one, that he would always be alone—and yet here you were. ready to embrace and welcome him in your loving arms.
but of course, not everything lasted forever. and that's what hurt the most. he thought that you would be the very one to be by his side forever until you both grow old. he had faith, he trusted himself and his intuition.
oh how he was he was wrong.
he faced the harsh reality of an ending that he never saw coming. The pain, raw and unfiltered, painted his world in shades of heartache. he found himself grappling with the harsh truth that not all love stories are meant to endure.
and once again, he found himself waking up to the haunting vacancy of an empty bed. he grappled with the familiar ache of waking up alone, haunted by the fleeting happiness that had slipped through his grasp.
he wondered how something that felt so right could end so painfully wrong.
he remembered the day you sent him that very text, the very text that would have ever-lasting effects on him. the very text he dreaded since the beginning of your relationship.
he remembered how he felt when he first got a look at your message. "we should talk." oh. that sentence.
he remembered meeting up with you on a rainy day (coincidental huh?) at 2 AM, surprisingly you didn't bring an umbrella which you usually did, luckily for him he brought one for you both to share.
"there's no need, i'll make this quick."
quick? what did you mean? he was unsure of what you had meant, oh if he could only go back and try to persuade you so much more.
the rain poured from the sky in a relentless downpour, as if the very sky had opened up to release its pent-up emotions. it just had to be raining.
both your hairs were soaking wet, rain dribbling down from your head to your face, he had the urge to wipe your face dry and hold an umbrella over you but, he knew better.
he remembers feeling an undescribable gut-wrenching feeling, one he had never felt before.
he remembered how dry his throat felt, had it always been that dry?
he remembered how he seemed to have stopped breathing, his breath short and rigged.
"lets break up, i.. i just don't think this will work. you're too busy and i don't feel loved at all, you really hurt me. i'm sorry but i think this is for the best."
"break up?" his voice was barely above a whisper as his words slipped from his mouth, he inched closer to you, hand reaching out to you before he stopped himself.
he remembered seeing you crying, or maybe it was just the rain. he couldn't see properly anyway, tears were brimming his eyes.
it just couldn't be. his eyes remained focused on you, he studied your face. was this a prank? no, your face.. it was mingled with many emotions, anger? disappointment? he was unsure. brows furrowed as you stared at him, not uttering a single word.
"n—no wait, please, explain yourself. i— if i did something wrong please tell me what i did i'll fix it! what do you mean you don't feel loved? i'll give you everything you need please don't—"
it was no use. his words left no impression on you, he stumbled over his words as he continued to pour out his heart, thinking about everything he must've done to upset you.
"please, don't make this anymore complicated than it already is, you know what you did. i only wish you the best,"
he remembered you letting out a sigh before speaking again. "... you were a wonderful experience."
a wonderful experience?
he remembered everything so vividly as if it happened yesterday. he remembered standing out in the rain in the dead of night, you were long gone, leaving him in the pouring rain, the soft glowing amber streetlights illuminating the wet concrete ground
"you were... everything." he whispered, the weight of those words hanging in the air. his voice was shaky and barely audible as he let out quiet, pained choked sobs, letting his tears run freely down his cheeks.
the pain was unbearable.
the days, weeks, months and years after was like no other. he felt incomplete, he couldn't quite accept the fact that you two were over, gone, all the things you did together were gone. nothing but bittersweet memories.
he despised the gods for being so cruel, everywhere he went was just another blunt reminder of you. the cafes, the parks, museums, galleries, everything.
even the cats you both used to feed every weekend, everything reminded him of you. it was like a curse, clinging and gnawing on his heart.
regret loomed over him like a shadow as he found himself grappling with the haunting question of what could have been done differently. he traced his fingers over old photographs, the smiles frozen in time.
his fingers would linger there on your face a little bit longer unknowingly.
the truth remained: the love that had once been the foundation of their shared world had crumbled, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let something precious slip through his fingers.
but, if there was a chance, he would go back in time and change everything he ever did to upset you. he yearned for a time machine to undo the missteps and restore the life they had built together. please, take him back.
— (all male genshin characters)
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note: erm i just wanted to yeah i wrote this in an hour so if it is rushed NO IT IS NOT (yes it is)
taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..
liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!
another note: NOW A (slight) ANGST WITH COMFORT FIC NEXT YAY
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doumadono · 5 months
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THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME REQUEST can you do mizu x reader smut but where she calls reader a brat somewhere in the mix that scene jst had me head over heels 😭🙏
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Warnings: smut - fingering, 69, rough oral, overstimulation, fem!Reader
Synopsis: you and Mizu enjoy some steamy moments together, having grown deeply fond of each other
OTHER FANDOMS MASTERLIST
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Mizu's days were consumed by the relentless pursuit of her quest for vengeance, her every waking moment dedicated to honing her skills as a swordmaster. The path she tread was a solitary one, until a chance encounter changed the course of her journey.
It was on a misty morning in a secluded training ground nestled among ancient cherry blossoms that Mizu first crossed blades with you, a skilled swordswoman with a spirit as fierce as her own.
Your meeting was a clash of steel and determination, the air buzzing with the intensity of their training.
Mizu, her blue eyes gleaming with a mixture of determination and surprise, locked eyes with you after a particularly fierce exchange. "You fight well," Mizu acknowledged, a rare compliment from the stoic warrior.
You, your gaze unwavering, replied with a smirk, "Not bad yourself. But I've seen the fire in your eyes. There's more to your story than the strikes of a sword. Care to share?"
Mizu hesitated, her guard momentarily dropping. The pain of her past flickered in her eyes before she composed herself. "I seek revenge for a great injustice. That's it, nothing more, nothing less. My blade is my only companion on this path."
You nodded understandingly. "Well, it doesn't hurt to have a sparring partner on such a lonely journey. How about we help each other? I can see the weight you carry, and I've got my own demons to face."
From that day forward, your and Mizu's training sessions became a harmonious dance of steel and camaraderie. In the quiet moments between strikes, you shared stories of your pasts, creating a bond that transcended the limits of your swords.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the cherry blossoms, Mizu spoke thoughtfully, "I never thought I'd find a companion on this path. You've made the journey less lonely, Y/N."
You smiled, twirling your sword skillfully, hiding it in a scabbard. "Likewise, Mizu. We're stronger together. And vengeance is a heavy burden; it's easier to carry when you're not alone."
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As the weeks passed, Mizu and you journeyed together through diverse landscapes, your paths entwined in a tapestry of shared experiences. What started as a companionship forged in the crucible of training gradually evolved into a deep and genuine fondness for each other.
The road you traveled was not just a physical journey but a shared odyssey of emotions and revelations. In the quiet moments beneath starlit skies and during the challenges you faced side by side, a connection grew, fortified by the understanding that only time and shared trials could foster.
Mizu, with her unwavering spirit, became not just a fellow warrior but a cherished presence in your own journey.
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The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a soft glow over Mizu and you as you sat by a crackling campfire. The dancing flames mirrored the flickering emotions in Mizu's blue eyes as she turned to her companion. "Y/N," Mizu began, her voice steady but with a hint of vulnerability, "we've shared so much, but I've never asked about the demons that haunt you. What burdens do you carry?"
The air grew heavy with the unspoken weight of the past as Mizu waited for you to open up.
The flames flickered, casting shadows on your face as memories resurfaced. "I come from a village that was razed to the ground by marauders. I lost my family, my home. The flames took everything. That's why I picked up the sword, Mizu. I wanted to be strong, to never feel that powerless again."
Mizu listened intently, sensing the weight of your words. She understood well. As you spoke, memories of the burning hut flashed before Mizu's eyes, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine.
Despite your efforts to maintain composure, a tear traced a silent path down your cheek, glistening in the firelight.
Mizu reached out, gently wiping away the tear with her thumb. "You've carried this burden alone for too long," she whispered. "You're not alone anymore."
Trembling, you nodded, a mixture of gratitude and relief in your eyes.
Mizu pulled you into a comforting embrace, and for a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound in the still night as you shared the weight of your sorrows.
You shivered at Mizu's touch. You wanted to lean in and feel Mizu's arms around you oh so badly.
Mizu shook her head. "It's the past, Y/N. And from now on, I'll be protecting you. I'll be by your side."
"You… you'd actually want to be seen with me?" you uttered in astonishment, your gaze fixed on Mizu. "But why? I'm not exactly a sight to behold, and you're so stunning… People might ridicule you for choosing to be with someone like me…"
Mizu chuckled softly, a gentle sound that resonated with warmth. She looked you in the eyes, her ice blue ones stern. "You know," she began, her eyes softening, "I don't see myself as a pretty woman. Beauty is subjective, and in my eyes, you shine in a way that captivates me. Your uniqueness, the way you carry yourself — it's incredibly appealing to me. I see you as someone with a beauty that goes far beyond what meets the eye."
The heat built between your legs. Your nipples strained against the fabric, yearning for connection, as the allure of those soft, ripe lips of hers enticed you. The closeness felt magnetic, and the desire to kiss overwhelmed you. Yet, instead, a deep blush crept across your cheeks, and you looked away, your emotions entangled in a web of confusion.
Mizu gently tilted your face up, leaning in as her lips brushed softly over yours, capturing the taste of salt from recent tears. A soft moan escaped your lips as Mizu drew you closer, fulfilling a secret daydream of yours.
Uncharacteristically eager, Mizu allowed her desires to guide her actions. Her hands explored beneath your attire, caressing your breasts, as the anticipation of pleasure hung thick in the air. With deliberate intent, she undid the ribbon at the back of your garment, letting it slip off your shoulders. Her hungry gaze lingered on your firm, ripe breasts, and Mizu, unable to resist the temptation, lowered her head to eagerly suckle on a taut nipple.
You let out a quiet moan and arched your back and moaned, tangling your fingers in the black tresses that now cascaded over you.
Mizu worshipped your breasts, taking turns licking, sucking and nibbling the nipples in turn, humming quietly as she did.
You pulled back, eyes glowing with passion. "Please, let me taste you, Mizu…"
Mizu grinned playfully and gracefully rose to her feet, treating her new lover to a tantalizing strip tease.
In absolute awe, you observed every move, your body pulsating with desire as she shed her clothes.
Mizu reclined on the futon beside the fireplace, her legs invitingly parted.
Feeling a mix of anticipation and hesitation, you undressed, eventually finding yourself kneeling between Mizu's open legs.
A moan escaped Mizu as she took in the full, lush view of your body. "Oh, Y/N, you are so beautiful," she whispered, the words hanging in the air, deepening the intimacy of the moment.
You spoke not a word. Your touch was the language, as you tenderly caressed Mizu's wetness, delicately parting the folds like the petals of a dew-kissed flower. Your mouth descended upon Mizu's throbbing clit, moving languidly, intoxicated by the explosion of her taste on your eager, flexed tongue.
Mizu responded with fervent writhing and moans, her body arching to bring her wetness even closer to your exploring mouth. With a graceful shift, she positioned herself to reciprocate, her command cutting through the stillness. "Sit on my face," Mizu directed, the bold request hanging in the air, a testament to the unspoken connection that unfolded between you.
Your attention remained solely on savoring her cunt, rendering you momentarily unresponsive to her command. You lapped at her wetness with your tongue, a low moan escaping as her juices cascaded over your taste buds. Sucking on your fingers to heighten the intensity, you skillfully slipped them into her, moving with a swift rhythm that reflected the urgency of your desire.
Her inner walls responded with spasmodic contractions, eagerly clenching around your digits. Mizu huffed with a tinge of frustration and seized a handful of your hair, giving it a gentle tug. "Come on, Y/N, don't be a brat. I asked for something, and I expect you to comply."
Responding with a small kiss to her entrance, you gazed up at her, your lips wet with her jucies, nodding in acknowledgment. Gradually, you positioned yourself, placing both knees on either side of her head, and descended onto her face. Leaning forward, you resumed your passionate exploration of her slick folds with your tongue.
Mizu let out a sultry moan as she felt your lips enveloping her clit yet again, your gentle suction drawing it into the warmth of your mouth. Her gaze wandered to your pussy right in front of her eyes, captivated by the sight of your pouty lips and the glistening juices there. With a bold move, she slid a skilled finger inside you, caressing tenderly, teasingly. Her expert tongue flickered around your clit, leaving you breathless and panting.
In response, you cried out her name, initiating a dance of desire as you pressed two fingers inside Mizu's pussy. Your skilled suction on her clit mirrored the tormenting rhythm of your fingers and occassional rubbing of your thumb against her already swollen clit.
Mizu's tongue glided slowly over your clit, dipping into your slit with a probing and searching motion; its tip constantly hitting your little bundle of nerves.
You moaned in response, enticing her with the movement of your hips, shaking your ass to amplify the friction and intensify the pleasure. "More, Mizu, holy shit!"
You luxuriated in that position for what felt like endless, blissful minutes, indulging in the intimate exchange as you both savored the taste of each other's pussies.
Mizu propped herself up on one elbow, her other hand gently parting the lips of your pussy. With tenderness, she licked you, the tip of her tongue tracing either side of your clit, humming appreciatively at the delightful taste.
Your hands reached up around her ass, pulling her cheeks apart as you wholeheartedly massaged her cunt with your mouth. In the height of pleasure, your actions were instinctual, allowing the waves of ecstasy to roll through you, leaing you moaning like a whore. Your tongue and jaws moved in perfect reaction, each dart of her tongue into you provoking a corresponding spasm of pleasure in your own mouth.
Together, you both writhed in ecstasy, voices merging in a passionate chorus of moans that echoed the intensity of your shared passion.
Releasing your hold on Mizu's ass, you wrapped your arms around her waist, drawing her core closer to your face. Playfully pushing her to the side, both of you shared a moment of giggles, eventually settling on your sides, maintaining the 69 position.
The sensations were nothing short of incredible. Mizu squirmed with delight, her tongue delving deep to partake in your drenched cunny, creating ripples of passion that surged throughout your body.
Unable to contain yourself, you cried out, "M-Mizu!!!" as her quick, skillful licks over your swollen clit sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your entire being, leaving your legs shaking. "I-I, God! T-Too much!!! Oh God, I can't!!!" you whined again, arching your back, trying to grind your pussy against her face for more friction.
She gently spanked your ass a few times. "Shush, you little, horny brat," the black-haired woman grunted lowly. "Let me have my fun with you."
You extended your arm between her legs, skillfully opening her wide, allowing one leg to hover tantalizingly over you. With your other hand deftly maneuvering between the two of you, you spread her pussy open even more.
Her head shifted against your inner thigh, repurposed as a comfortable pillow in the midst of this intimate exchange.
Your face was fully immersed in the warmth of her pussy, while she reciprocated with her face pressed into yours. In a passionate exchange, you both moved and thrust against each other, building up a frenzied rhythm that heightened the intensity of the moment.
Mizu's primal grunts mixed with your fervent whimpers, the symphony of your pleasure rising in frequency and pitch. In the midst of waves and layers of ecstasy, you both reached the climax together, as one. The culmination was so profound, so all-encompassing, as you came intensely, repeatedly, in a cascade of bliss. A deluge of intoxicating girl-cum cascaded over your mouths and faces, seamlessly blending with the ongoing grinding and spasms.
"Oh, you dirty, little brat, you're gonna be a death of me one day," Mizu playfully nibbled on your clit, making you whine pathetically.
Gradually, the sweet and gentle descent from the peak began. Your passion waned, bodies winding down, experiencing little aftershocks of orgasm like sparks in your muscles. Rolling backward, you and Mizu separated, lying prone on your backs, side by side, heads to toes, in a shared moment of tranquil aftermath, breathig heavily.
Soon Mizu, holding you with a newfound protectiveness, traced gentle strokes through your Y/H/C hair and whispered softly, "Did I make you feel good?"
Nestled against Mizu like a contented kitten, you looked up with a happy smile. "Yes… It was perfect."
A tender kiss on your temple followed as Mizu yawned heavily. "I think I fell in love with you… We've shared so much, and being close to you felt so good, so right, as if something just clicked together."
"Indeed," you whispered in agreement, resting your head on Mizu's breasts, eyes slipping closed. The surreal feeling of it all being real overwhelmed you. Sleep embraced you, and this time, there were no dreams; there was no need, as everything you had recently dreamt about was already cradled in your arms.
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abyssruler · 8 months
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if you don’t love me (lie to my face)
dan heng x gn!reader (past dan feng x reader)
he wants you to see him beyond the shadow that his previous incarnation cast. he wants to push you away, wants to hold you close, wants to hear his name spill from your lips without the taint of another man’s name. he wants you, but you cannot bring yourself to let go of the past.
angst
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“Stop looking at me like that.”
You tilt your head, feigning obliviousness. “Like what?”
“Like that,” he huffs, averting his eyes uncomfortably to the horizon, if only so he may escape the longing, almost melancholic sheen that glazes over your eyes whenever you look at him.
“Sorry,” you sigh, but you make no move to tear your gaze away from the sight of him, drinking in every detail, cataloguing which ones are the same and which ones leave you mournful for the differences that shatter the illusion of a time gone by. “It’s just hard, sometimes, to look at you and not imagine someone else.”
He frowns at your words. “I’m not him.”
You smile, something brittle at the edges of it. “I know.”
“He’s gone,” he grits out.
“I know.”
“I won’t—”
“Dan Heng.”
He pauses at the sound of his name, turning his head and meeting your eyes again. You’re smiling, but there’s a fragility to it, like broken glass pieced together haphazardly, threatening to shatter at the slightest touch. It’s maddening to look at you and feel the acute sense of his heart twisting within his chest whenever he so much as catches a glimpse of you.
He doesn’t want to feel this way, hates feeling this way. Any connection to that man, any ties and bonds and whatever emotions you once made Dan Feng feel—he doesn’t want it. He wants none of the headiness and the weightlessness and the warmth that spreads through his body that it feels as though it could encompass the entirety of his soul.
But you make him want to want so fiercely it leaves him breathless and little frightened.
He wishes you never approached him, wishes you never got close to him, wishes you never directed such looks his way.
But mostly, he wishes you weren’t so easy to like (easy to love).
“I know, okay? I know you’re not him, but—” You close your eyes, fighting for composure, and when you open them again, he is met with a gaze full of hope and regret. “But just this once, just for a few seconds, could you let me pretend?”
Dan Heng feels his throat tighten, his heart falling with no one to catch it, because you’re not truly seeing him, no. You’ve never seen him for who he is, only the man who continues to haunt his every waking moment. Even now, he feels the weight of Dan Feng’s past mistakes and regrets heavy on his shoulders with the way you’re looking at him, pleading with him for a chance to relive a time long gone.
He knows he shouldn’t, if only so he may spare his heart, and yet—and yet, he is a fool.
However much he wants to deny this—deny you—he has always been weak when it comes to matters regarding you and the emotions you’ve managed to instill within him.
So Dan Heng nods, unable to look you in the eye, but he doesn’t need to see you to feel the way you slump against him in relief, arms winding around his shoulders in a mockery of a lover’s embrace.
This is madness. A foolish endeavor. He should have said no. Should have vehemently denied any sort of connection with that man. Should have turned you away the moment you began reminiscing your time with that man whenever you became lost in old memories and grief.
And yet, he does none of this, because he is weak, because he has gone soft, because—
Because he loves you.
He loves you, so he lets you hold him the way you must have held that man.
He loves you, so he lets you imagine him as someone else.
He loves you, so he lets you bury your face in his shoulder and murmur a name that isn’t his.
“Dan Feng…”
Dan Heng closes his eyes and dreams of a day where you will finally look at him without seeing another man’s face.
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myfictionaldreams · 1 year
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The Haunting Silence // Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Natasha was your soulmate and she had done everything physically possible to keep you hidden and safe. Every day the two of you spoke through your mind using your soulmate connection but, what happens when suddenly Natasha's mind is silent?
Requested by: @southern-goth​ thank you for the request!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (lots!), fluff, hurt/comfort, head injury, Sense 8 soulmates AU, Crying/Anxiety, threats of violence, protective Natasha, scissoring, oral sex, fingering, multiple orgasms
Words: 7.5k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 
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Soulmates: two souls that are deeply connected and once successfully found, can communicate through their minds, no matter how far the location or language that was spoken. They were rare and many people were driven insane with the search to find their one true love but not you, you'd accepted years ago that there may never be the chance of ever finding her until fate was on your side.
It had been a beautifully mundane day. The movies like to show a romantic first meeting between two souls tied together from the depths of time, whether it be colliding in a coffee shop, running through the rain or even the hero saving someone from a villain. This was not anything like the start to your story, in fact, there were many details you couldn't remember.
Was it sunny? A Monday? Were you wearing jeans or leggings? You were completely unsure of any of these details but these were all menial with regard to the bigger picture no matter what day it was; it was the best day of your life as you met your soulmate. One minute your thoughts were your own, always described as 'hauntingly silent' by individuals who had already found their soulmates and thought back to the time before meeting their loved one.
Then the next, as you turned towards the exit of your work, your eyes hadn't even connected with her green eyes, still mesmerised by her lips as another silky voice echoed, "Oh", through your mind. It wasn't just this, as a warmth settled through your chest, not realising how empty you had been surviving through life until you finally found her, Natasha, your soulmate.
Natasha Romanoff had recently joined SHIELD when the two of you met but, she was honest about her alter ego Black Widow, as well as her past as an assassin which quickly helped to decide the dynamic of your relationship: a secret.
You were a nurse in a small hospital in the middle of nowhere, it was a surprise to you that Natasha had even found your workplace with it only being used by the locals. This fact actually aided with you being able to keep the relationship secret, you were a nobody in comparison to Natasha, no one would even look in your direction with suspicions or notice a hooded figure sneaking into your home in the middle of the night with your lack of neighbours.
At first, it had been difficult, you'd just found someone you wanted to spend every waking second with but she had to travel around the world and face dangerous missions constantly. However, thankfully with your soulmate connection, you could talk through your minds as long as you were both awake. Then as aliens attacked Earth and the Avengers were formed, you were happy to still be hidden, knowing that if anyone found out about you, they could use you against Natasha so a long-distance relationship it was.
Every single day, the two of you spoke, her words always feeling like being wrapped in a tight warm hug or when the tone changes, a seductive finger sliding down your spine.
Today, you were 5 hours into your shift at the hospital, finding a spare moment to wander down an empty corridor, hugging a report to your chest as a smile widened across your face.
You aren't lying to me, are you? your words were teasing towards Natasha but had every undertone of seriousness behind them.
Natasha had to hide her smile behind the microphone of the headpiece she wore as she was currently flying the Quinjet on the way back from a mission with the Avengers. Why would I lie to you, Milaya?
Your heartbeat quickened at the use of her nickname for you, Milaya, translating to darling, a name that often had you feeling safe and warm. It was also an easy way for Natasha to distract you from your questioning so you shook your head and tried to remain on track with your mind communication.
Please tell me, you encouraged, trying to find out if your soulmate had earned any injuries on this mission.
I'm fine, it's only a scratch on my wrist. - and bruised ribs to match the deep purple shade forming along her jaw where some asshole managed to punch her in the face, but you didn't need to know about that Natasha decided. You were at work and didn't need the distraction.
Hmm fine, I'll believe you for now but I'm going to see if you're lying when you get here in 2 days' time, you responded trying to sound slightly doubtful, having had this conversation with the red-haired assassin far too many times before.
Natasha's mouth quipped into a soft smile that she didn't bother to hide, eyes softening as she looked across the extensive view of clouds. 2 days seemed like such a long time to you both, her stomach twisting uncomfortably thinking about the wait as she decided, I'll try and visit sooner.
Don't rush baby, I would love to see you but please rest. It had been nearly two weeks since you had been able to hold or kiss Natasha and it was almost like you craved to be with her, needing to smell her hair, stroke her bare skin - you were going insane without her around. However, you couldn't help but feel bad that she felt the need to rush to be with you, she was so busy on these missions, hardly eating, sleeping and having to be at peak physical performance at all times. She was doing the very most and travelling across the country to see you whereas you had to sit pretty and wait for her, yes you worked full-time at the hospital but it was hard to compare your fatigue to Natasha's.
I just want to be with you, Natasha finally admitted, her voice losing the confident tone she had been trying to uphold for your benefit.
Your steps slowed to a stop as you stared at a crack in the concrete floor, I want to be with you too. You sighed out loud, wiping a hand down your face before trying to continue the conversation. Where are you at the moment?
Natasha swallowed the lump forming in her throat, the sudden overwhelming sensation to cry needing to pass as she was still surrounded by her friends in the Quinjet who had no idea she had found her soulmate all of those years ago. Looking at her coordinates, she replied, we are flying over Colorado at the moment.
You smiled slightly as you approached the door you had originally been planning on visiting in the hospital, the happiness felt through the bond that Nat could feel her chest warming. Oh, I've always wanted to visit Colorado, I've heard the--.
Silence.
Not the silence that came with being distracted and losing your train of thought but the sort of quiet that left an empty hole in Natasha's chest as she waited for you to finish your sentence but it never came. The assassin sat up further in her seat, heart beginning to pound violently behind her ribcage as the realisation dawned on her that the emotions she was experiencing were the haunting silence she felt before meeting you before there was ever a soulmate connection.
Milaya? Natasha asked into the void of her mind, but there wasn't any sort of response or emotions felt back. Even when you were asleep, Natasha could feel your calmness and sense of contentment through the bond but it was just...lifeless.
MILAYA?! The red-haired woman was screaming through her mind, frantically pulling off her headset as they felt suddenly claustrophobic, forest green eyes darting wildly around the multitude of buttons laid out before her on the jet's console.
Nat hadn't noticed that in her surge of anxiety to try and get you to respond, she had actually begun verbalising her nickname for you, which caught the attention of Tony who was sitting closest to her.
"Who? I'm not naming the jet that Nat, if- Woah". Tony's words were swiftly cut off as Natasha pushed past him, her mouth was painfully dry, eyes wide and unblinking with fear, the match the tremor that had settled in her hands as she grabbed the touchscreen computer typing in your hospital's location.
Her eyes moved faster across the screen than ever before. There was nothing, no reports of an attack, nothing that would be a reason for your bond to completely disappear. Next, she opened the local police scanners and reports but once more, there was nothing that reverted back to the hospital.
Every second that agonisingly ticked past, she continued to scream a mixture between your name and Milaya, hoping there would be some sort of a response but nothing seemed to come of it.
"Natasha? What is it?", it was Steve who was asking now. Natasha's erratic behaviour was quickly questioned by her colleagues and friends who all approached and watched with confusion as she continued to lose all control.
Clint pushed past the others, grabbing onto his best friend's shoulders, his eyebrows furrowing as a tear slipped from the woman's eye, sliding down her cheek. Looking over her shoulder towards the screen, he recognised the hospital name, him being the only person that Natasha trusted with your whereabouts.
"What is it?" Clint demanded.
"I... I can't hear her", Natasha's voice was quiet and displayed her distraught brokenness.
"Her? Who is her?" Tony asked.
"Tony, not now", it was Bruce this time who spoke up, having never seen Natasha lose her composure like this, something had to be seriously wrong.
Clint's hands moved to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him, "Nat, I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath in for me and tell me what's going on."
Natasha removed herself from Clint's grip after taking one steady breath before turning back towards the computer screen, not bothering to wipe away the tears that she couldn't stop from falling as she attempted to log into the hospital's CCTV. From there, she rewound the feed to a couple of minutes ago and began to search through the corridors.
"Can someone explain what's going on, please?" Steve asked, more sternly than before, trying to find some answers that he wasn't getting.
However, the Black Widow wasn't listening, becoming even more panic-stricken with each passing second as she searched for you on the screen until finally, some air returned to her lungs as she found you walking down a deserted corridor, the footage a minute before the bond suddenly stopped. Natasha nearly smiled at seeing you there, even though she couldn't see the details of your face due to the low-quality cameras.
Tentatively, she, along with the rest of the Avengers, watched you walk down the corridor. Nat's eyes continued to glance at the time, watching it tick down as you approached the door at the end of the corridor, opened it and stepped in and then nothing as it was the time everything became silent. There were no further camera feeds in that room, you were simply there one minute and then something happened in the room and the bond was gone.
Natasha rested her head against the computer, closing her eyes to put all of her effort into shouting your name into the void in her mind but the only thing that responded was the silence and the disrupting shouting from the people around her was distracting.
"Everyone shut up!", she demanded with authority, thinking hard enough that it was beginning to form a migraine.
Glancing towards Clint, who looked just as worried as she felt, he asked, "Nothing? What about here?" he tapped against his chest, directly over his heart.
Natasha shook her head before a red suitcase caught her eye line. Taking a step towards Tony she demanded, "Give me the iron man suit".
Tony scoffed, "What? Not until you explain what's happening- wait what the fuck?!"
"GIVE ME THE SUIT!", Natasha had lost all composure, not thinking clearly, only thinking about you as a priority as she reached into her holster and within half a second, had her gun pointed towards Tony's head.
"Natasha, put the gun down, NOW.", Steve demanded, taking a step towards the billionaire like he was going to stand in front of the gun for his friend.
Nat began to cry, still mumbling, "Give me the suit Tony", the hand holding the gun still visibly shaking. Clin stepped directly in the path between the gun and Tony before Steve could, he held up his hands for good measure to show he didn't mean any harm.
"Nat listen to me", his voice was calm and low as he spoke, like he was talking to a frightened animal. "Even if you wear his iron man suit, I don't think you're in the right mindset to be by yourself so this is what's going to happen. You're going to lose the gun and I'm going to sit in the pilot seat and fly us to her, we'll be there in a couple of hours but you need to calm down right now, this jet is too small to be firing guns and you know it".
She knew he was right, thankful that she had a friend to talk some sense into her as she lowered the gun, nodding her head towards Clint who rushed to the seat she was just sitting in, placing the headset over his head. Returning the gun back into her holster and watching as Clint increased the speed of the jet, she suddenly jumped as Bruce began talking to her.
"How long has it been since you found her?" he offered her a warm drink that she hadn't noticed him pour for her. Of course, Bruce was the first to suss out what was going on. Nat held the warm drink in her hands and forced herself to drink it, even though the nausea she felt was overwhelming, she needed to try and keep calm.
"Before I knew any of you...except for Clint", Natasha admitted quietly, sitting in one of the seats surrounding the edge of the Quinjet.
Steve sighed heavily, sitting next to her, now understanding just what was going on.
"Wait, so you've had a soulmate this entire time and you didn't tell any of us?" Tony asked, sounding slightly disheartened by the news.
"I had...I NEEDED to keep her safe Tony. Do you really think our jobs don't come without any repercussions?" Tony shivered at Nat's words, thinking about the number of times his soulmate Pepper had been caught in the crossfire due to him being Iron Man. "Exactly. I can't lose her, she's... the only person I have and the only one I let get close to me, she's my only one and now, she's not answering my calls, something is wrong, I know it is".
The Avengers all nodded their head solemnly, understanding why she had reacted the way that she did. Tony sat opposite Nat, eyes full of remorse, "So is her name Milaya? That's what I heard you say earlier".
Natasha released a half-assed chuckle beneath her breath, "No that's just a nickname, her name is y/n", she allowed herself to smile for a split second, thinking about the first time she'd called you Milaya and how fond you were of it.
Then realisation dawned on her that this was really happening. Not only were you potentially in danger but now the Avengers also knew about you, could this potentially mean you didn't need to hide anymore? Shaking her head she left that thought for another time, needing to make sure you were ok first.
"Everyone strap in", Clint shouted over his shoulder, the jet beginning to reach it's maximum speed. Natasha attached the buckles around herself tightly, dropping her head back and continued to try and shout down the bond.
Clint landed in the near-empty car park in record timing much to Natasha's relief, who hardly waited for the doors to fully open before jumping down onto the tarmac. Even though the car park was bare for vehicles, there was still a scattering of people gathered around, visiting people in the hospital or using the facilities which meant, as the Avengers were suddenly in this forgotten-about town, it caught their attention quickly, shouts and whispers from every direction.
This didn't stop the group however as they followed Natasha into the building, her footsteps fierce and confident, face full of determination, all tears gone as anger replaced those feelings. There wasn't any immediate sigh of distress as they entered the building, and no sign of an attack still or police presence.
The reception lay straight ahead, and immediately, Natasha knew that it was the receptionist Bonnie behind the counter, someone you had talked about with affection on many occasions and it dawned on the assassin that she probably knew every professional in this small building.
Trying to not sound too aggressive but still holding the urgent tone, Natasha stopped before the counter, staring at Bonnie who looked up with comically wide eyes, glancing at each of the Avengers before looking back at Black Widow as she began speaking, "Y/N, where is she?"
Bonnie frowned in bewilderment, "Nurse Y/N? But how did you know-"
Natasha's heart dropped painfully as the receptionist seemed to confirm that something had happened. Beginning to lose her composure once more, her voice raised in noise level as she demanded, "Where is she? Is she even here? Did someone take her? Is she dead-?"
Bonnie quickly cut off Natasha's rant, standing from her seat with raised hands, "No! No she's not dead but something did happen earlier, let me take you to her".
She directed the group down a corridor, half running with how fast Natasha was trying to walk in front of her, ignoring the stares from the other patients and professionals. As they approached a series of windowed rooms, Bonnie began to explain what had happened.
"A ... a guy came in earlier, we think he snuck through the basement but he was caught stealing meds which were where Nurse Y/N was stationed and...she found him in the cupboard and he hit her hard across the head, by the time we found her, the guy was gone and she was unconscious on the floor. The doctors are still waiting for her to wake up was the last update that I had".
Natasha was reeling from the information, knees momentarily buckling but Clint was right behind her, hand under her arm to keep her upright and moving. You were alive, that was the information that alarmed through her mind, you were unconscious that was why she couldn't feel the concentration, it wasn't like you were asleep and could wake at any time, you'd been forcibly put to sleep, your body healing and cold.
Then there was the fact that someone had actually hurt and injured HER soulmate, right now, you were her priority but the second you were feeling better, nothing and no law would stop Natasha from hunting this guy down.
Suddenly Bonnie stopped in front of a large window that looked into a private room that had light filtering through the blinds causing an orange hue to shift across where you lay in the hospital bed in the centre of the room. There were a few machines scattered around that were monitoring your observations and a nurse recording the results standing next to the bed.
Natasha had to use every part of her training to try and hold back the audible sob that threatened to explode from her mouth as she didn't wait for permission to walk into the room. However, no one seemed to have the courage to even question the Avenger, all looking confused between her and the other heroes, nurses and healthcare assistants gathering to see what all the commotion was about.
The nurse turned, hearing someone else entering to room, her eyes widening just as exaggeratedly as Bonnie's and Natasha was quick to read his name tag, Chris. Internally she smiled knowing you were in good hands, Chris had a reputation at the hospital for his quality of care and that you and he were close friends, it must have been hard for him to then stay professional and give care for his friends.
"Is...Is she ok?" Natasha finally found her tongue to ask the Nurse, her green eyes wandering over every inch of your body. You looked almost peaceful, except for the fact that you were still in your Nurse tunic and there was a bandage plastered to your forehead.
A wave of nauseous anger rushed through Nat's body but she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Chris's full attention was now on the Avenger as he answered her question with a surprisingly sturdy tone considering he was talking to one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes. "She's had several stitches to close the injury, we found a metal pole next to her covered in blood so she took a strong hit. Thankfully there's no internal damage shown in the scans and she's yet to wake up but her observations have remained stable. Even if she wakes, she'll need to stay for a day or so to fully assess the damage."
The red-haired woman nodded, feeling somewhat relieved hearing this.
"Natasha?" Clint asked from the doorway having heard what Chris had said, waiting until the assassin turned towards him before continuing. "You good? We'll get out of here to give you some space just... keep in touch, will you? Let us know when she wakes up and-", his voice lowered dangerously low, "we'll find the guy".
Natasha nodded thankfully, even though she wanted to find whoever did this, the promising look in Clint's eyes she knew to trust that he had it covered. The rest of the Avengers shuffled back down the corridor, waving at the onlookers, thankfully taking the spotlight off of Natasha for a second as she attempted to step closer to you.
With no one there to hold her up, her knees buckled once more with overwhelming relief pulsing through her heart as she reached for your hand, her eyes filling with tears at the warm skin of your hand against yours, finally feeling grounded and connected to you.
Chris was quick to provide a chair for the Assassin, leaving the two of you and ushering away the spectators through the window, Natasha decided she would find him later to thank him for this.
"Oh Milaya," Natasha sighed as her face searched yours, hand gripping yours before stroking the back with his thumb.
The movement seemed to stir something with you as your fingers twitched in her grasp, a moan releasing from your mouth, eyes flicking beneath your still-closed eyelids. It almost felt like instinct for you to turn your head towards Natasha, feeling her presence there as the further you stirred, the mouth the empty hole in Natasha's chest filled with your bond.
"Natasha?" you whispered, voice thick and slurring slightly.
Nat brushed her other hand across your cheek, leaning down to lightly kiss the part of your temple that wasn't covered in bandages, mumbling "I'm here, baby". For this once, she absolutely didn't care who could see the two of you, Natasha allowed herself to be vulnerable for a moment, she thought she'd lost you, there was no way she was wasting another moment again.
A further hour passed before you moved again, sucking in a deep breath to properly fill your lungs and frowning, feeling something was off but not sure what. Blinking open your eyes, you flinched at the bright light that sent pain sparking across your head.
"Milaya?", Natasha whispered, careful to keep the noise down to not affect your sensitive senses. Her thumb brushed across your soft cheek, trying to help you arouse so she could see your pretty eyes.
"Nat?" you asked again, voice still sounding just as slurred and thick as before, "Am I dreaming?".
Eventually, your eyes opened, squinting against the orange light still pouring through the outside window. Even though the doctors had been giving you pain relief through your IV that was attached to the back of your hand that Natasha wasn't holding, you were still sensitive to the lingering concussion.
"There are those pretty eyes", Natasha praised as you looked at her hovering over you. "You aren't dreaming, you're ok, you're safe".
"What- What's going on?" you asked, feeling like something was wrong but not quite understanding just yet. You were confused and dazed still. Attempting to sit up, you frowned as your soulmate pushed against your shoulders, keeping you lying but you were only attempting to be closer to her.
"Hey it's ok, you don't need to get up, you need to rest", Nat encouraged, watching as you looked down at your body, observing the leads attached to various areas to monitor your observations, the cannula in your hand to the heavy feeling in your head, lifting said hand to brush over the soft material of the bandage on your head. Natasha cupped your hand and pulled it away from your injury, "Be careful my love, you've been hurt, don't touch it".
"I've been hurt?" you asked with confusion but the slur was very much still evident, you still need to rest and recover.
"Yeah, do you ... remember anything that's happened? Do you know what day it is?" Natasha asked, staring down worriedly at you.
You tried to think hard about today but your mind continued to be blank with delirium. "Uh... I don't remember anything. I feel like I'm floating through space", you admitted but then something dawned on you, even though you couldn't name what day it was, you knew you were at work, having been in this particular room hundreds of times and Natasha was definitely next to you right now, still dressed in her Black Widow uniform. Eyes flicking over her shoulder to the indoor window, you could see some of your colleagues walking around. "You're here! In front of everyone, they'll see you, Natasha!"
Natasha's eyes softened, hands coming up to cradle your face, "Shhh Milaya, I don't care that they've seen me. Baby, I thought you were dead." Her eyes dropped from yours to stare at your name tag that was clipped to your tunic, willing the heavy emotions to remain at bay, you needed to rest and she didn't want to make you more upset. "We were talking and then you were silent but usually, I can feel you even when you're asleep but there was nothing and I couldn't... I had to come here, I thought you were in danger, I mean, you were in danger! Apparently, some asshole was stealing med and you found him so he hit you with a metal bar".
"I'm sorry I scared you", you responded, feeling overwhelming guilt over the situation but still feeling completely dazed and out of it. "Will you stay?" you asked hopefully, reaching up to touch her cheek gently.
"I'm not leaving your side", Natasha confirmed.
"Good". The two of you stayed silent for a few minutes as the assassin returned to sitting in her seat, lifting your hand to place it back against her cheek so she could nuzzle into it. You smiled at her softness, something she didn't often like to display before something else caught your eye, your fingers nimbly grasping her chin to turn her head away from you so you could look at her chin, seeing the painful bruise there, "I thought it was just a scratch you got on this mission?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Ah, so you do remember somethings", Natasha smirked, referring to the conversation the two of you were having before you were attacked.
"Oh little bits," you admitted, "I bet we look like a right pair", you joked, eyes closing with heaviness suddenly exhausted.
"Get some sleep Milaya", Natasha muttered against the palm of your hand.
I love you, you spoke into the mind connection, feeling heat spreading across your chest with love.
Natasha had never heard such beautiful words before, sighing and leaning over before she could stop herself to kiss your lips softly, audibly whispering, "I love you too".
Thankfully, 24 hours later you were discharged and finally bombarded by your friends and colleagues that were swiftly brushed away by Natasha as she led you towards the exit, but she quickly admitted that her phone had been going off constantly from the Avengers, wanting to invite you over soon to be introduced.
It took Clint three hours to find the man responsible for the attack and had been keeping him in a secret holding for Natasha, not that the woman was rushing to leave your side any time soon.
The days passed by and you were forced to rest by both the Doctor and Natasha, who was quick to do anything and everything for you and you were more than thankful, the symptoms of the concussion taking longer than you'd anticipated to wear off.
Finally, you felt strong enough to climb out of bed, the smell of food being cooked coming from the kitchen had your stomach growling in hunger as you quickly had a shower, still careful of the plaster over your stitches but the massive bandage had been removed thankfully.
After dressing in only an oversized top and shorts, you smiled lovingly at the sight of Natasha in the kitchen, standing in dark joggers and a thin grey vest, her hands moving skillfully over the food that was cooking, toast popping up in the toaster.
You began to move forward with the plan to help her by buttering the toast, greeting her with a "Hello beautiful", and reaching for the knife and butter. However, your attempts were futile as Natasha snatched away the utensil.
"Nope, I'm doing that, go and sit down please", she began moving away from you, to continue with her cooking.
Rolling your eyes, you simply found another butter knife from the drawer and moved back to the toast, "I'm fine! I can butter my own toast, Natasha".
Once again, she simply removed the knife from your hand, shaking her head with a throaty laugh, "I'm looking after you so go and sit down".
"You have looked after me and I'm feeling almost normal except for the stitches", you admitted, pulling the toast over from the toaster and placing it onto the plate, moving closer to Nat to try and snatch the knives out of her hand but she held it at arm's length, still smirking. "You're relentless you know that?" you finally admit defeat, hand dropping to your side.
You watched her move for a moment, not planning on sitting down at all before stepping behind her as she stirred something in one of the pans. Your hands rested against her waist, fingers teasing along the hem of her vest to finally slip beneath and feel her warm, soft skin as your lips kissed along her exposed shoulder. You smiled against her, hearing the relaxed sigh escape her mouth.
"Hmm... and you are good at distractions", Natasha quipped over her shoulder, leaning into your touch.
"I've missed you," you admitted thoroughly, even though the two of you had been together for the last few days, due to you resting, you hadn't been able to be intimate and you missed her, especially being away for so long before the attack.
I've missed you too, Milaya. Natasha spoke through your mind, hands moving to rest over yours before turning slightly towards you. "But- I need you to eat first, your stomach growling woke me up this morning and I'd feel much more content knowing your belly as full before I take your clothes off".
You swallowed harshly at the end of her sentence, thankful that she wasn't fighting you on being intimate and you could deal with the request, kissing her mouth quickly before stepping back towards the table that was already set for the two of you to eat.
Sitting down, you watched mesmerised as she cooked, it looking almost like she was dancing around the kitchen, you knew you could never be as graceful as her but she also had extensive training which aided with her movements. Your core clenched though as her vest continued to ride up on her hips, exposing more of her stomach and you wanted nothing more than to lick the area.
"Having fun over there?" Natasha asked with a wicked smirk plastered on her beautiful face as she observed your wandering eyes and the shifting you were doing on the chair with your obvious arousal.
You bite your lip to hide your grin at being caught, not quite finding the words to respond that wasn't a request to take her clothes off so you distracted yourself by drinking the glass of water that was already placed on the table.
The two of you ate and chatted about Natasha's teammates, especially Tony who had sent about 50 invitations to you to join the numerous events that were coming up that the Avengers had to attend, hoping you would accept one so he could bombard you with questions.
You both had decided that you'd attend one eventually, increasing the security would be easier now as you didn't need to hide away. This new found freedom was exhilarating and you couldn't wait to walk down the street, holding her hand and showing everyone that she was yours.
Scrapping the plate clean and moaning at how good the food tasted, you stood to wash up the plates but once again, Natasha was grabbing the plates from your hands, moving over to the sink and placing them into the warm water.
"We can do that later", she informed, extending her slender hand for you to take and leading the way towards the bedroom. The two of you lay in the centre of the bed, your eyes were already heavy, you hadn't realised just how tired you were, with a full stomach and it had been the most you'd moved in days and had exhausted you quickly.
You felt bad having teased her and attempted to reach for her but she easily held down your arms, pulling your body against hers, fingers moving delicately across your scalp in a calming manner. "Get some sleep baby, I'll be here when you wake up".
When you finally woke, you were greeted with the peaceful sight of Natasha also sleeping, her features completely relaxed. Watching her for a moment, you carefully lifted your hand, attempting to tuck a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear but in a blink, your hand was stopped in midair as Natasha gripped your wrist.
You grinned as she opened her eyes, "It's really creepy when you do that".
Natasha's plump lips tilted into a smirk, her eyes flicking across your face as she bought your wrist up to her mouth, kissing the sensitive skin on the inside that sent a shiver through your spine. "You love how quick I am, really", she teased, her voice completely sultry to match the darkening look in her eyes.
"I love everything about you", you countered, leaning closer, finally closing the gap between your lips. Both of you released a heavy sigh, breaths fanning across each other's faces at finally touching. Your skin burned instantly, feeling like there were tiny electric pulses coming from wherever your skin met and it always felt like that when it was with your soulmate, intense and powerful.
Natasha broke the kiss first but only to move down your cheek, on her own journey to reach your lobe, nibbling the sensitive flesh between her teeth that caused a deep moan to vibrate in your chest as your fingers reached for the thin straps on her shoulders, efficiently pushing them down.
"My Milaya", Natasha whispered against your ear, her fingers, pushing underneath your shirt to do their own exploration. Just before the tips of your fingers began to graze over her now exposed breasts, she pushed you fully onto your back, easily rolling on top, straddling over your abdomen her shoulder-length hair falling and framing her face as she leaned over you. "Let me make you feel good".
You mewled in response, admiring the beauty that she was, the way her lips parted and shined in the light, the straps dropped off of her shoulder that allowed for her vest to drop and reveal her perked breasts that were desperate to be touched. A finger slid under your chin as she looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
"You're so beautiful Natalia", you praised, hoping your eyes showed as much affection as your words did. Natasha's shoulders visibly dropped with love at the use of her birth name before she was leaning over you and kissing you fiercely, desperately moving, tongue pushing and flicking against your own, both moaning as you could taste each other.
Your hips lifted trying to find some friction but ended up grinding against Nat who groaned at the contact, her fingers suddenly reaching to grasp the edges of her vest, pausing the kiss for a second so she could remove the offensive material before moving back down to your mouth.
It felt so good to have her chest naked, rubbing against your t-shirt, that she was willing to be so bare before you. Your fingers caressed down her spine first before pulling around to the front, grazing over her scars and careful of her still healing bruised ribs that didn't seem to phase Nat anymore as you finally cupped her tits.
You felt the weight of them against your palm, squishing the beautiful flesh before tweaking her pretty nipples, earning a grind down from Nat's hips on your abdomen. Smiling against her mouth, you knew she had ultra-sensitive nipples which only made it more fun to play with them, hearing the desperate little moans she would release.
Suddenly, you were left cold and reaching for more as Nat sat up, pushing her hair out of her face as she looked down at you, "take off your clothes", she demanded whilst climbing off of your lap to remove her joggers speedily. You did as instructed, first removing your shirt and then your underwear before lying back down and Nat was straight away straddling your body again.
With no layers of material between the two of you, her bare, noticeably wet cunt now lay against your abdomen. Your hands went to her hips to grind her hips further against you, making her rock her body against yours as she leaned down once more to kiss you, your breasts rubbing together as her pussy rolled against your stomach.
"I'm supposed to be making you feel good", Nat whispered breathlessly against your neck of which she had moved to leave open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin.
You chuckled, releasing her hip with one hand to reach between your bodies to play with her nipple again, feeling the vibration of her moan melt into where your chests touched. "You are making me feel good", you responded just as breathlessly, rubbing your thighs together and feeling how wet you were.
The assassin suddenly moved, half climbing down your body and moving one of your legs over her hip, lowering her hips and then her cunt was stroking against yours. The two of you moaned, and your eyes flicked between her now swollen parted lips and where her hips began rolling against yours, your clit brushing against yours, both of your juices mixing together.
You matched her movements, gripping onto the leg that she had positioned over yours still, your hips rolling with hers, both gasping and mewling as your clits were rubbed and swiped against each other.
"Feel so good baby", Natasha praised, her hand coming up to cup against your breast, massaging the flesh slowly to match the thrusting of her hips. Your head flung back as she tweaked your pebbled nipples as she pressed especially hard against your clit. "Do you like when I rub on you Milaya?" she asked you, feeling her cunt pulse with arousal at seeing you experience such pleasure.
"Yes, feel so so good", you groaned, also reaching up to play with her tits, before sitting up slightly and pulling her face down, kissing her desperately as you both chased your highs, clits still sliding against one another with how wet you both were.
You were so close, your core beginning to tighten as you began to chant her name like a prayer, needing and wanting her, begging not to stop as Natasha was responding with just as much desperation.
Your cunt then started fluttering as you came, hands gripping onto Natasha hard enough that you were sure to leave bruises but it just felt so good that you couldn't stop. Natasha continued her movements for a few further minutes, finding her own release with a beautiful gasp.
You had planned for her to catch her breath but she was moving before you could comprehend that she was, your legs being pushed back against your chest to expose your soaked cunt to her as she lay down on her stomach, eyes connecting with yours as her mouth dropped to your pussy.
She began by licking up everything you had spilt, moaning at the taste of yours and her juices, tongue pushing through your folds before teasing your hole that was still twitching to be filled. Your hands replaced hers with holding up your leg, of which she gave a long lick up your entire middle as a reward, now freeing up her hands. With one, she spread you open, giving her the perfect view of your clit and hole and then she was diving right in, her lips sealing around your clit and sucking whilst two of her powerful fingers pushed inside of you, curling instantly about your special spot.
"Oh my god- Natasha!" you moaned, and you could feel her smiling against your bundle of nerves at your reaction, seeing your eyes closed to concentrate solely on the pleasure that was being given you. This was all you had wanted for weeks, to be with her, spend time touching and pleasuring each other's bodies, feel the bond glowing and strengthening with the time spent together.
Natasha's skilled tongue and fingers drew a toe-curling orgasm out of you, your back arching to try and grind your hips on her face. She had been a master at work, her eyes never leaving your face as she watched you go through all the stages of pleasure.
You were then rolling the two of you over, and you wanted nothing more than repay her with your tongue but you still had to be careful of the stitches on your forehead. So instead, you used your fingers in her soaking cunt and your mouth sucked leisurely on her nipples which had her clenching around your fingers, your thumb stroking against her throbbing clit.
"Milaya, don't stop", Natasha cried out, hands clenching into the sheet below, her thighs shaking around your hand, a pink glow to her cheeks as she watched you move from one breast to the next. You didn't stop, wouldn't stop until she was cuming around you and the way her walls were becoming tighter, her breaths coming out in short bursts you knew it would be soon.
"Cum for me 'Tasha, wanna hear your moans", you encouraged after releasing her nipple for a second and then going straight back to sucking it harshly into the back of your mouth.
"Ah! Yes-!", Nat's eyes rolled back as she began quivering around your fingers and you didn't stop your movements, making sure to draw out every ounce of pleasure that you could, until her hips jolted through overstimulation.
Easing your fingers out of you, you quickly drew them to your mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of her before she was sitting up and kissed your lips. Her tongue stroked against yours and you could taste yourself on her, and you hoped she could do the same taste herself on your mouth.
Then you were both collapsing into the middle of the bed, limbs tangled together facing one another and trying to catch your breaths, sweat glistening off of your bodies. Smiling softly at her beautiful expression, feeling her thumb stroke near to your stitches, you asked, "what's going on in that head of yours?"
"I'm just thankful you're here with me, I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you", she admitted in nothing more than a whispering volume.
Reaching to take her hand in your own, you kissed her knuckles, feeling the scars beneath your lips, "You don't ever have to worry about that baby".
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amalythea · 25 days
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「 but does he really know me when the lights are on? 」
⤷ info: diluc & childe x gn!reader (separate) || angsty fic hehe || wc: 544 & 461 respectively
⤷ warnings: diluc n childe are a tad bit neglectful of their lovers bc theyre busy, mentions of childe's real name (does this even count as a warning), i tried to make this extra angsty as a treat for you guys <3
⤷ extra: i used the prompt i. “but does he really know me when the lights are on?” from @thexianzhoujade 's personal memoires (of the dearly beloved) event!! thank you so much to @mei-sm for proofreading!!
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diluc.
As the owner of the renowned Dawn Winery, your lover's days were consumed by the meticulous tasks of wine-making and managing the estate. Diluc was a man of dedication, his every waking moment dedicated to upholding his family's legacy.
But amidst the clinking of glasses and the rustle of grapevines, there existed a longing within Diluc—a longing for companionship, for someone to share his burdens and his joys. It was in the quiet moments of the night, as he gazed out over the vineyards, that this longing weighed heaviest upon him.
Then, amidst the chaos of his busy life, you came into his world like a breath of fresh air. You who seemed to understand Diluc in a way no one else could. Your encounters were fleeting yet profound, each stolen moment leaving Diluc yearning for more.
Despite his limited time, Diluc cherished every second he spent with you. He memorized the curve of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight. In his mind, he constructed an image of you—a flawless portrait of a person he believed he knew inside and out.
But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Diluc's time grew ever scarcer. His duties at the winery demanded more of him, leaving little room for anything else. Yet, in the rare moments you shared, Diluc clung to the illusion of intimacy he had built in his mind.
One evening, as you sat together beneath the stars, your voice broke the silence. "Diluc," you said softly, your gaze searching his face, "do you truly believe you know me?"
Caught off guard by your question, Diluc faltered. "Of course, I do," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I know you better than anyone."
But your eyes held a sadness he had not seen before. "But do you?" you murmured, your words hanging heavy in the air. "Do you know the dreams I keep hidden in the depths of my heart? Do you know the fears that haunt me in the darkness of night?"
Diluc felt a pang of guilt deep within him. Despite his love for you, he realized that his knowledge of you was only surface-deep. He knew your smile, your laughter, your outward demeanor—but the depths of your soul remained a mystery to him.
In that moment, the realization hit him like a sudden gust of wind. Despite his best intentions, despite his unwavering devotion, he had failed to truly know the one he loved. And as he looked into your eyes, he saw the truth reflected back at him—the heartbreaking realization that your connection was built on a foundation of illusion.
Tears welled in your eyes as you rose to your feet, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things were different, Diluc," you whispered, your words heavy with sorrow. "But I fear that we are destined to remain strangers, even as lovers."
And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Diluc alone beneath the stars, his heart heavy with regret. For in that moment, he knew that despite his best efforts, he had let the one he loved slip through his fingers, never truly knowing you as he had believed.
childe.
In the heart of Liyue Harbor, beneath the grandeur of the illuminated archways and amidst the bustling streets, Childe found himself entangled in the mess of his own making. The weight of his duties pressed upon him like a leaden cloak, consuming his days and nights in a relentless pursuit of power and influence. Amidst the political machinations and secret dealings, there was but one respite for him – the presence of his lover.
Your relationship was an affair hidden behind veils of secrecy and deception. Childe reveled in the moments stolen away from the prying eyes of the world, where he could lose himself in the warmth of your embrace. Yet, even in your most intimate moments, there lingered an unspoken question, a whisper of doubt that haunted your thoughts.
Despite his professed affection, Childe remained a stranger in many ways, his mind consumed by the ceaseless demands of his position within the Fatui. He spoke in riddles, his words veiled in ambiguity, leaving you to decipher the depths of his intentions.
As the nights grew longer and the shadows darker, you found peace in the silence between you, a quiet refuge from the chaos of your intertwined lives. But beneath the facade of understanding, doubts festered, like seeds sown in barren soil, their roots entwined with the fragile threads of your bond.
One night, as the city slept beneath a blanket of stars, your doubts could no longer be silenced. With tears glistening in your eyes, you uttered the words that had long lingered unspoken between the two of you.
"Do you truly know me, Ajax?" you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath upon the wind. "Or do you see only the shadows of who I am, cast by the light of your own desires?"
For a moment, Childe was speechless, the weight of your words bearing down upon him like a crushing weight. In the silence that followed, he searched your eyes for answers, but found only the reflection of his own uncertainty staring back at him.
"I... I thought I knew you," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "But perhaps... perhaps I was mistaken."
With those words, the fragile bonds that held you together shattered like glass, leaving nothing but shards of regret in their wake. In the cold light of dawn, you turned away, leaving Childe to face the emptiness of his own solitude.
Alone amidst the ruins of your shattered love, Childe found himself haunted by the echoes of your parting words. In the depths of his heart, he knew that he had lost more than just a lover – he had lost a piece of himself, forever hidden in the shadows of what might have been.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.
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bishopayer · 18 days
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38 LETTERS FOR MY LOVE ᥫ᭡  LUKE CASTELLAN
𝓦arnings ; character’s death , mention of blood , angst , luke being an asshole. .
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Luke Castellan was a complex figure, his demeanor veering between ruthlessness, cruelty, and a deep-seated sense of unworthiness. He harbored a belief that he didn't deserve anything or anyone, having hurt countless people and driven them away until they ceased trying to help him—a cycle that left him wondering why they abandoned him. Luke actively avoided love, convinced that he wasn't deserving of it, nor capable of reciprocating it. So why did all those convictions dissolve in your presence? It baffled him how someone as kind and selfless as you could ever love him. You were the antithesis of Luke—gentle, compassionate, and always putting others before yourself.
The paradox of your affection for him haunted Luke. It felt as if the gods were playing a cruel joke on him, mocking his sense of worthlessness and inadequacy. He wrestled with conflicting emotions, feeling both overwhelmed and undeserving of your love. Luke made a solemn vow to himself to keep his distance, to shield himself from the vulnerability of your affection. He couldn't bear to utter a single word about you, let alone your name, fearing that acknowledging your presence in his life would only deepen his feelings of unworthiness. He thought it would be simple to push you away with harsh words, but he found himself incapable of inflicting pain upon you, unable to resist the warmth of your gaze and the kindness in your eyes. He couldn't bring himself to hurt you, no matter how much he believed he didn't deserve you.
He counted almost every single day that you made him feel so good, like he was a normal person, worthy of love and affection. You didn't treat him like the others, and he was endlessly thankful for that. Despite warnings from others about Luke Castellan's reputation as a heartbreaker, you refused to believe them. Your Luke wouldn't do that to you, right? Your Luke was the sweetest boy you'd ever met, treating you with the kindness and respect you deserved.
During your nighttime strolls, often after Luke sneaked into your cabin to take you out, your shoelaces would invariably come undone. Too tired to bother with them, you'd simply let them dangle. Luke, ever the gentleman, would kneel down and tie them for you, causing your cheeks to flush with a rosy hue as you glanced down at him. "You need to tie your shoelaces, I can't always do 'em for you, princess," he'd whisper, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he finished and stood up. You'd scoff lightly, a smile playing at your lips. "I can do them; I'm just tired since someone decided to wake me up in the middle of the night," you'd retort, chuckling softly as you continued your walk, the warmth of Luke's presence beside you. Despite your banter, your hands would brush against each other with every step, a silent but tangible connection between you. Luke would roll his eyes, letting your comment slide as you both ventured around the camp, striving to keep your outing quiet and clandestine.
But that plan failed miserably for both of you. Your giggles echoed through the entire camp as Luke decided to demonstrate his strength by lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder. "Luke Castellan── if you don't put me down, I swear on the Gods that this is the last time you ever pick me up!" you whispered-yelled at him, but deep down, you couldn't deny that being so close to each other felt undeniably right. And that was probably the last time he did pick you up.
Luke still vividly remembered the moment he opened up to you, the first person aside from Annabeth who truly listened to every word he said. It felt liberating, finally being honest with someone after years of mental turmoil. He recalled the vulnerability he felt when he confided in you about his scar, expecting rejection or harsh words. Yet, you surprised him by kissing his scar so tenderly, your hand tracing its outline as if committing it to memory. He remembered your reassuring words, whispered in his ear with such sincerity─how you loved him, even if he couldn't say it back, and how his scar didn't define him, how he was the most beautiful person you had ever seen.
Luke longed for those days when you would wake up in his bed in the morning, wearing his oversized shirt, a sight that softened even his toughest exterior. His siblings would tease him for being so gentle around you, but he did mind those comments. In those moments, he felt a warmth and comfort he had never known before, and he missed it dearly.
He didn't want to admit it, especially after he had promised himself that he would stay as far away from you as possible. He didn't need you, he told himself repeatedly.
Days turned into weeks, which then led to months where you and Luke wouldn't see each other. He avoided you at all costs, not even sparing a glance in your direction. It haunted him to imagine your tear-filled eyes, your bottom lip quivering as you fought back the urge to cry. He had always been the one to tell you not to waste tears on trivial matters, yet now he found himself unable to face you. You thought it was foolish, how he avoided you without explanation, and you blamed yourself for not confronting him sooner. Unable to find the right words, you resorted to writing letters and sending them to Luke. It felt childish, but your love for Luke Castellan compelled you to try anything to salvage what was left of your relationship.
The Hermes boy read all 38 of your letters, sometimes rereading them every hour, but he couldn't bring himself to respond in kind. He had promised not to speak to you, and he intended to keep that promise. But why was it so difficult when it came to you? Letters weren't technically considered talking, right? So after many months of receiving your letters, each one a testament to your unwavering affection, he finally broke his silence. He wrote you a four-page letter detailing everything that had been happening in his life. You were confused, to say the least. So he had been avoiding you simply because he was afraid of being loved? Was he scared of the idea of loving you?
Of course he wasn't afraid of the idea of him loving you, that's what he thought. The idea of him loving you was something that he never entertained before; he did like you, though. But did that even count? No, he realized. It wasn't fair from your point of view. You loved him, adored him, and all he had to say was that he only liked you? That night, you promised yourself that you would stay away from him.
You stopped sending letters to him, trying your best to forget about him and his stupid smile, or those eyes that would look at you so tenderly, or the scar on his cheek that you had memorized in your head. Every time you went out into the woods or spent time with your friends, things would inevitably remind you of him. You blamed both yourself and him for the sweet words he would say to you, or the mornings when he was wide awake and would gently wake you up with kisses on your cheek, lips, and forehead── God, you had to stop this immediately.
Luke thought about you too, constantly. He remembered when you used to say that strawberries were your favorite fruit and how you could eat them all the time. So he picked some from the strawberry field and started to eat them, even though he didn't particularly like them. He knew your favorite color was pink, and he also knew that you smelled like cotton candy. So he bought a small piece of pink silky fabric that he kept with him at all times, claiming it brought him luck. The son of Hermes even sprayed his pillow with the same fragrance that you wore, hoping to dream of you. The dreams he had of you were sweet, just like you.
He missed you, and you missed him. But neither of you were sure what to do. You were scared to say something to him, fearing the heartbreak that might follow. Deep down, you knew he wasn't just any boy, but you still didn't want to admit that you needed him. It wasn't like he needed you anyway. You missed the feeling you used to have every time he would kiss the palm of your hand, slowly making his way up to your neck and then your lips. How could you not miss him? You've always had a tendency to get attached to people too easily, while Luke was the opposite. He struggled to identify his feelings, what he truly wanted. That's why he was so stubborn when his friends accused him of turning soft. He didn't want to be soft; he wanted to be strong and fearless. That's what he wanted to feel, so he acted accordingly.
You noticed the change in him. Your Luke wasn't the same sweet boy who used to shower you with cute nicknames. He wasn't the same boy you once believed would eventually reciprocate your love. And he never did, despite how much he regretted not being able to say those words back, at least for you.
The day before the war began, Luke's thoughts were consumed by you. He wondered how you would react to seeing him on the other side. You'd probably hate him by then, he reasoned. So that night, he sneaked up to your cabin and took you out, just like he used to. You were confused and wary, especially of Luke. You thought he was playing a game with you, using you for his own amusement. "Castellan, I don't understand this. I mean, first you ignore me for months, and now you come and just take me out in the middle of the night?" you scoffed, unable to suppress the edge in your tone. You didn't want to be cruel, but after everything Luke had put you through, if being mean to Luke Castellan was what it took, you were prepared to do it again and again.
"Look, I── I'm sorry, okay? I'm a shitty person who doesn't know how to be loved. I'm sorry that you have to see this, Luke, and not the Luke who has been thinking of you," the curly-haired boy said, mentally cursing himself for the choices he had made. He could have been in better circumstances if he hadn't been such an idiot. He could have been your boyfriend now, for God's sake! You sighed as you looked at the boy with the same bambi eyes that would make him want to kiss you even more. "Yeah, and I'm sorry that Luke Castellan didn't appreciate me."
"I did appreciate you── You were the only one who would actually listen to me, and I'm grateful for that," Luke said, guilt written all over him, knowing that his words wouldn't make you believe him. That night didn't go as planned as he thought; you were both arguing until he had to ruin it, again. He didn't mean to say that he didn't love you; he actually did! Well, he thought so. But he was going to make it up to you, he promised, and Luke always keeps his promises. He's going to confess his love for you, just like in those romantic movies that he'd always say were too cheesy.
But it seemed like fate had other plans for both of you.
He didn't get to confess, he didn't get to say "I love you" like you said to him every single day, and he couldn't even bring himself to utter those three words. He was ready, he really was. So why did the Gods have to take you away from him? Why couldn't they wait a bit longer until he confessed?
The day of the battle dawned cold and gray, the sky heavy with the weight of impending doom. As you stood on the front lines, surrounded by your fellow demigods, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of your stomach. But you refused to let fear paralyze you. You would fight, you would stand your ground, no matter the cost. Already having a bad feeling about this, you knew something was wrong when you didn’t see Luke the whole day.
Chaos erupted to quickly. The battle was fierce, a whirlwind of steel and blood and magic. Demigods clashed against monsters, their screams echoing across the battlefield as the earth shook beneath their feet. You fought with all your strength, your heart pounding in your chest. But in the midst of the chaos, tragedy struck. A sudden explosion rocked the battlefield, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. And then, in an instant, everything went silent. The sounds of battle faded away, replaced by an eerie stillness that hung heavy in the air.
And there you were laying on the ground, crying in pain as a pool of blood stained the ground beneath you, seeping into the earth like a dark, twisted memory. Luke rushed to your side, his heart almost pounding out of him as he knew that you were going to be dead by any second now. “Shit── it’s okay, it’s gonna be fine, we’re going to be fine. Just── just don’t close your eyes, okay?” He whispered, tears blurring his own vision as your cries stopped. He knew you were gone, he knew the moment that he had with you were now only memories that he wouldn’t wish to remember.
Luke Castellan still read your letters after everything, his heart arched as he looked at your handwriting. The letters were now stained with tears as the Hermes son decided to put all your exactly 38 letters into a box, not wanting to lose them, not wanting to lose anything from you.
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© bishopayer 2024. do not translate, or duplicate any of my works on here or any other websites.
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effloradox · 4 months
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Forehead kisses with Thomas Thorne?
I am not immune to the urge to give this man a kiss on the forehead 🥺
Also I combined this with a request asking for Thomas with the prompt ‘I thought you’d like some company’, I think it fit quite well!
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Life in Button House was almost always the same no matter the day. You’d only been a resident of the house for a few years after a rather nasty accident on the grounds but you tried to make the best of your living situation (if you’ll excuse the obvious flaws with the expression). The other residents had been quick to welcome you into their daily routines and with time you got used to everyone’s quirks. Eventually you could ignore Lady Button screaming as she fell out of a window every night and you got used to things like Julian’s crassness and Kitty’s eagerness.
You hadn’t believed in life after death in your previous life so the last thing you’d expected was to fall in love during your unexpected afterlife. Thomas had been so shy when you first died; he’d barely been able to string a sentence together in your presence, so different from the poet that waxed lyrically every moment he was able to that you’re used to now. You’d managed to do many things during your life but true love seemed to have evaded you until after your death. It hadn’t taken long for you to fall in love with Thomas, and it had taken him even less time. Waking up next to him had become part of your daily routine so easily that you now couldn’t imagine him not being there with you every morning.
Things hadn’t changed much in the weeks since Heather passed until a new car had pulled up on the driveway of the house, and with it some new living residents. The new owners had put most of the others on edge though, that much was clear. You’d overheard some of their plans for the house and they made a lot of sense to you, some of them had been things you’d briefly mentioned before you’d died; but to some of the others the suggestions had been an affront. Thomas had seemed particularly upset about the mention that the library be repurposed into a recreation room; he'd disappeared not long after hearing that.
You’d given Thomas his space initially but after a few hours without his presence you’d set about looking for him. You’d checked all his usual haunts, leaving his sighing place until last in the hopes that his mood hadn’t dropped to that resort. You weren’t particularly surprised to find him there if you were being honest with yourself but it pained you to know that it was troubling him to that extent. You poked your head through the door, watching him for a moment before stepping through the door. You’d been about to announce your presence when the man in question had turned quite unexpectedly, letting out a small shriek when he spotted you.
“Good lord!”
“Sorry!” His expression softened towards you once he’d calmed down, panic no longer evident on his face.
“I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I thought you’d like some company?”
“From you? Always, my love.” You appeared at his side in an instant, his arm wrapping around your waist automatically. It doesn’t take long until you’re settled in his lap, both of you watching the new residents moving things out of their car.
“The others have a plan to try and scare the new owners away.” Thomas let out a soft noise to acknowledge your comment, his eyes still trained on the new couple. “Julian’s practising moving things with his ability to see if he can unnerve them.”
“And you?”
You hadn’t thought much of your phone being on your person when you died, whilst you still have it it’s not like you can use it for much. Just making notes, taking scenic pictures, and playing the few games you had downloaded that work without an internet connection. What it had left you with was an ability similar to Robin’s wherein you could mess with electronic devices to a certain degree. It would definitely be a useful skill if you decided you wanted the couple gone. You'd heard Julian mention it when they’d been plotting to scare the living away and it had been part of why you left to go and find Thomas.
“I understand why them being here upsets some of the others, and that some of their plans have upset you. But, I don’t think it’s such a bad thing. Wouldn’t it be nice if they did make the house look good again?”
“I suppose.” You can hear the uncertainty in Thomas’ tone and it’s all you can do to press a soft kiss to his forehead. The effect is instantaneous as you practically felt the tension seep out of his body, the frown lines you'd kissed disappearing in seconds. The two of you remain on the windowsill until you hear Julian shouting your name from somewhere in the house, no doubt to enlist you into trying to scare the new couple. You begrudgingly lift yourself from Thomas’ lap, taking one of his hands in yours as you move to walk towards the door.
“Come with me?” You can see in his eyes that he doesn’t want to, but he stands anyway and you can’t resist the urge to lift your entwined hands to place a kiss on his hand. The tender gesture turns him bashful as he struggles to make eye contact with you. It takes a moment for him to compose himself and you watch as he seems to steel himself before he speaks.
“Being your slave, what should I do but tend upon the hours, and times of your desire?” It takes you a moment to place his words, you’re sure you’ve heard them before and it takes your brain a few seconds to connect them to who wrote them.
“Shakespeare?” You know you’ve guessed correctly when Thomas’ face lights up like the sun. His smile is one of your favourite things about him, it never fails to make your heart flutter and this time is no exception.
“Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind; still constant in a wondrous excellence.” It’s Thomas’ turn to lift your hands as he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles.
Nothing good can last forever though. The moment is ruined when you hear a frustrated sounding Julian shouting your name once again, only this time he sounds infinitely closer. You can’t help but sigh with frustration at the interruption.
“Let’s go and find the others shall we?”
“Lead the way my dear.”
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dmagedgoods · 4 months
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I just really like the idea of Durge having previously dealt with Raphael, running into him with Amnesia and assuming they're in a relationship given all of Raphael's flirting and pet names. Durge deciding to kiss a shocked Raphael who goes along with it because he's been looking to find some kind of hold over them.
Anon, I need you to know how much this inspired me. I made a little story out of it with my own Durge Cian because it fits him so incredibly well. He's nothing if not obsessive. And especially obsessed with that devil. 😁
A Devil You Know? A Devil You Do?
Rating: General but a touch spicy
Relationships: Raphael/Durge (male, Cian)
Tags: obsessive thoughts, kissing, spoilers for act 2
Summary: Dark Urge Cian misunderstands his own obsessive thoughts about the local devil following him and assumes a relationship they don't actually have. - Much to the delight of the devil in question. AO3 ~ The picture was lively, like a vision haunting his every waking moment: Eyes of molten heat reaching out for his soul, the soul he yearned to possess, his elegant hair combed back, curling invitingly in his neck, calling for his fingers to bury themselves in its softness to bend his head to his liking, his expressive dark eyebrows, giving him too many hints, opening his emotions to him too easily, his aristocratic, suave features with a prominent nose and thin wide lips, indicating a dominating and controlling nature and other irresistible traits he wanted to lay open and dissect. He followed him with every step, even now Cian felt his presence while he was tossing and turning, restless, wide awake in the middle of this stinking, irksome camp surrounded by the darkness striking fear in the hearts of those around him. If only they knew. It was nothing but a weak shadow compared to the black abyss he felt in his very own chest. And yet. When he closed his eyes, he saw fire striking through its depth. – Burning hot on his skin and like a raging inferno in his guts. His fire. His torrid ambition. His glowing gaze. His fierce desire. He could feel it all, he could feel him with every breath. It was a game, wasn’t it? He is toying with me. ‘The mouse smiled brightly: It outfoxed the cat! Then down came the claw, And that, love, was that.’ He licked his paper-dry lips. There wasn’t much he could recall about himself, his memories kept withdrawing just in time whenever he tried to sink his fangs into their silhouettes, mocking him at the edge of his consciousness. And so did he. But his adoration for poetry, the way it resonated within him, brought him a profound, endearing joy. No, this was not a new development but an old, a familiar part of him the devil must have been aware of. ‘And that, love, was that.’
“You know me.” He spoke the words into the darkness. None of his companions roused from their sleep. But his invisible observer stayed silent. “And I know you, isn’t that true, devil? Despite the farce of an ‘introduction’, he had not only told him with his gazes, with his demeanor and luring sensuality, but with an open statement even, his little hint: ‘It's not every day one meets such a cavalier sinner such as yourself! A true, bloody pleasure.’ His pulse quickened, his blood rushed through his veins so loudly that he feared its noise would alarm the vampire. The strong bond he was sensing, the delight he felt, the growing desire: That devil and him, they were connected far beyond fleeting first impressions. You have been at my side, have you not?, he continued in his thoughts, so loud and focused that if Raphael indeed was near, he probably could hear them as clearly as his words, And now you patiently wait for me to remember. But even if I still lack the pictures and specifics as of now, I do remember you; a part of me recognizes what still lies buried. It would be impossible to forget a devil like you. He closed his eyes, listening for an answer that did not come. With a little smile, he turned to his side. The silence did not matter. Soon the truth would be revealed. - The child left the table with a self-satisfied grin. For someone her age, she was, well, bearable. Although, her victory was his, not hers, and – either way – mostly the devil’s, despite his defeat. Raphael’s reactions, their conversation, his comment when she disappeared into another part of the inn, and out of hearing, nothing of it left any doubt that he was after her soul and the game only had brought him closer to his goal. Naïve little girl. “The Theskan move suggestion was inspired,” Raphael said to him and now he himself was the one who felt a hint of self-satisfaction. Of course, he hid the fact that the devil’s compliment affected him.
“There is plenty about me you have no idea about.” “Don’t I, indeed …” Raphael did not attempt to sound convincing. “Or maybe,” Cian stepped closer. “That’s only what you want me to believe.” One of those vivid eyebrows wandered higher. “How long do you think you can fool me?” “Fool you,” Raphael repeated slowly and with a shimmer of amusement in his eyes, “And how exactly do you believe I'm doing th…” With calm determination, Cian closed the last distance between them and cut off his words by pressing his lips to his. Raphael’s eyes widened in utter surprise. He refused to return the kiss, keeping his mouth taut and inaccessible. Have I been wrong? Fear and a hollow cold spread through his insides, despite the warmth of the skin he was still touching, hands buried in the expensive fabric of Raphael’s clothes. Cian readied himself to step back and apologize – with calm nonchalance, protecting his pride or as much of it as he could save. But suddenly Raphael’s grip tightened around his hip. He didn’t allow him to escape. Instead, he moved his lips against his mouth and used his consequent little sound as an opportunity to tease his tongue with the tip of his. It sent tingling pleasure through his body and fierce heat to the very bottom of his soul. Relief flooded every fiber of his being, and he grabbed the devil harder. Raphael was taller than him, stronger too, still, he wanted to claim him as his, to remind him that he was. Prying his lips open further, he slid his tongue behind those pearly teeth, invading his mouth and deepening the kiss with unrestrained passion that now was returned with the same demanding harshness. Their tongues pushed against the other insistently, hungry for sensation, hungry for dominance. For the duration of their kiss, nothing else existed but the devil in his arms and his eager touch. But when they finally parted, he could feel the shocked gazes of his companions. Astarion overcame his surprise first and let out a delighted little laugh. “No no no, please don’t stop now, I was enjoying the show!” “You can’t be serious.” Wyll spat those words out with undisguised disgust. “I’m sure you two could get a room if you asked,” Shadowheart commented drily. Cian cleared his throat, and Raphael allowed him to retreat. “Forgive the spontaneous assault,” he said without paying much attention to the others. “But I needed the confirmation.” “The confirmation of what, if I may ask?” Raphael asked, the curiosity in his voice seemed genuine. Now it was for him to raise a brow. “That we know each other intimately. When did you plan to tell me the truth about our past? – About our connection?” Raphael hesitated. – His gaze piercing as if he was searching for something in his eyes. Did he try to find out how much of it he already remembered? Cian knew he would need to be careful with what he believed him until his memories truly returned. His partner or not, he was a devil after all. And they loved their little games and secrets. Eventually, Raphael smiled a charming smile. “Well, as you proved just now, it won’t be necessary to tell you anything about your forlorn past. It’s much more intriguing to watch it return to your eager mind.”
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skelebellie · 9 months
Text
MIGUELITO
[miguel o’hara x reader drabbles]
[SFW]
warning: slightly saucy? not NSFW but miguel is down bad.
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r/n: am i late to the party? technically, no. i saw atsv opening night and another time. but i’ve just been *hyperfixating* for soooo long that i just now got out of my hole. also, i survived summer semester and the scheduale of college classes is regulating me (i work hard but autism works harder).
anyways im feral for this man in a way concerning to feminism. but its less of a sexual thing and that fact that he is so me fr. anyways, enjoy. (i can’t fix him but i can fuck him)
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miguel o’hara is not a lover into PDA. the last thing he wants is to have jess and peter b. breathing down his neck, teasing him about how hes getting ‘soft’. but in the quaint moments of the night or the rare moments the two of you are in his office together, he can’t help but touch you. a lingering brush against your arm turns incessant, craving the feeling of your soft flesh under his hand. if he could describe you, it would be “home”, and your skin is his hearth. more often than not, you find yourselves both working on separate things, only connected by the grasp miguel has on your hand.
that twink (affectionately) is the worst to sleep with. unconsciously, he wraps his whole body around you, encasing you into a koala-like grip with no room for wiggling. its the way his brain runs while he sleeps, subconsciously afraid that when he wakes up you will be gone. relishing the way your plush body feels against his skin like a cloud.
w/ latine!reader, you try making tamales with him. you wanted to bring some to a group dinner with jess, peter b., and ben. you for sure thought he would be good at it, but he keeps ripping the husks with his claws as he tries to hold it down, ending up in him getting frustrated. you relish him to the duty of watching over the fillings so that they don’t overcook. nonetheless, he sulks until he can get a bite of your cooking.
one more latine!reader, but you make him picadillo when he got sick once and he started sobbing into the soup.
i head cannon that miguel has a physical preference for someone with a little chub or muscle, just something his claws can dig into. so when you come to the training room to catch on some much needed strength training, he can’t look at you. the way your spandex shorts dig into your thighs, causing the fat to bend underneath them, haunts him for days. and dont even get him started when you move and your shorts roll up your thighs. (from a certified thunder thigh homie)
when he has late night missions or stays at HQ until the stars shine, he always feels bad for coming into your shared living quarters. but the alternative was getting yelled at by you for sleeping at HQ. so silently, he tries to sneak into bed and not wake you. but every time his heart blossoms when you roll over, calling for him. “hnng- miggy?” your voice comes out, cracking with exhaustion as you roll over, hand reaching out to search for your personal heater. “sí, mi vida, im right here.” miguel whispers, guiding your hand towards him as he gets under the covers. voice still soft as he tries not to completely wake you up the moment you find his body your scooting closer to him, wrapping your arms comfortably around his waist as you lean your head against his chest, the gentle thump of his heartbeat lulling you back to sleep. in moments like this, he wish he had his phone on him, adoring your sleeping face as his hands run through your scalp.
definitely one of those dads that are like “put that animal back from once it came, we are not keeping it” and then like two hours later you find miguel conked out on the couch with your new pet asleep on his chest.
loves taking photos of you, especially little polaroids. he likes having a reminder that your there, and that the moments between you two are ingrained in pictures.
you start copying his curses. one time you bumped into the corner of the table only to stutter out “hijo de chingada”, only to look up to miguel almost pissing himself with laughter.
miguel o’hara wears socks and slippers in his downtime dont @ me.
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bon2bonn · 3 months
Text
Breakeven
0-0
Mafia!Charles leclerc X Mafia!reader
° Ex!lestappen X reader , ex!Charles leclerc X ex!max verstappen , ex!max verstappen X ex!reader .
Words count : 1.3k
Warnings : violence, guns , grammar, death, not proof read.
*did I get sidetracked/distracted again and started yet another fic that I daydreamed about in a sleep deprived haze ? YEP! I sure did . do I regret it now ? Heck no! . will I regret it later for indulging my mind by writing it instead of focusing on my already full WIP list? Absolutely! . So enjoy🍷!
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Charles leaned his back against her side tilting his head on her chest , his hair is tussled and his frown gone as he closed his eyes in content, her arm draped over his shoulder from the back , as her hand rested over his heart with one of his holding onto it as he slept .
Their joined hands raising and falling with every breath he took and his posture calm a relaxed, A major contrast from his usually tense and guarded self . Her other hand rested on Max's hand that he let her hold , tracing over his scared hand as she followed the lines and raised tissue on the back of it , his head resting on her shoulder with hers leaning over his .
All three basking in the cool wind as it breathed around them the place is a small piece of heaven with overgrown trees and wild flowers scattering around and disappearing beyond the treelines , tucked away from the main court where the main families meet to for business .
They Found it years ago and run to whenever they got the chance , taking a fresh breath of air was a rare occurrence as their families increased their responsibilities with every passing day , yet they cherished these fleeting moments even if short and spent in silence, still very precious to them .
She closed her eyes , enjoying the stolen moment of peace , Max's voice cuts through the peaceful haze " Mijn liefje , you have to wake up " . She frowned at his words, but kept her eyes closed " but I want to stay here , with you " she felt him hold her hand gently , lifting it up to place a delicate kiss on the back of it , leaving behind a a tingling sensation that turned into a scorching pain causing her to wince , he whispered in a far away voice " but you know that this isn't real " , she tried to argue back but her words got caught in her throat . And as she strained her hearing she couldn't hear the sound of bustling leaves above them anymore as it fades into a steady ticking bounced around her head before it stopped with the loud ringing of the church bell from the other side of the block . Snapping her awake from the beautifully haunting daydreams that kept plaguing her days .
Moving away from the wall she was leaning on , fighting the urge to scratch at the back of her tightly wrapped hand as she crouched down , readjusting her coms before leaning down into position , sight set on the moving cars as she counted three moving ahead towards the gates, another one barked not far from the front entrance across the street, and another going around for the past hour or so appearing irregularly without a specific timing but not close enough to draw attention, a surveillance team of sorts.
Clicking her coms on as she followed the van one block before it turned a corner and out of sight " Marv , surveillance is heading your way 10 seconds east " the line clicked and the voice answered back " copy that " . Another line connected as she fixed her aim at the last car as it stopped before the gate but no one got out " Jinx here, the back is cleared, no setbacks here , sirens are in position and ready to go " she acknowledged with a "copy that " , swiftly shooting the tires of the the target's car as a precaution , forcing them to get him out eventually to ensure his safety.
Counting her side tasks for the day , the first car had at least three armed guards the , second had 4 armed who posed as a diversion to cover the third which had two armed guards one personal bodyguard along with the target .
She took down the first two guards injuring the third as they stepped out, another one from the second car and three more as they tried to shoot back at her place in the rooftop. Leaving the best for last when two more guards emerged from the said car . She ducked as the last guard aimed at her head , missing twice before he ran out of ammo. She took him out with one shot , Leaving the target with no protection for now .
The silence was defining as she head down the stairs , gun loaded and ready . she called through her Comms " we're on the move, start phase 2, sirens , lock and move " , they answered in confirmation starting their own tasks at hand .
While she approached the car slowly , she found the target first , unarmed and trembling as he babbled on trying to bargain himself out " I'll give you whatever you want, how much ?! 5 million , 9 I'll give you 12 please! Whatever you want!!" As he kept frantically pleading his guard sneaked up on her , trying to grab her by the neck , but was met with a kick and a bullet to the leg caughting him off guard, he stumbled back but grabbed a hold of her ankle dragging her down with him , she rolled away aiming for his head but he took cover with the car door , the target was screaming as bullets kept shooting towards him with one barley taking his ear as he ducked , she groaned as she threw her now empty gun , taking out another one but the bastard kicked it out of her hand , she took a deep breath " you asked for it " she charged at him ducking last second swiping his feet , making him fall face first before pinning him down with both arms pulled behind his back with her knee centered between his shoulders blades , putting pressure down while pulling hard enough until two loud pops were heard , the guard screamed along with the target who held his arms in fear , watching in horror as she now held her fallen gun to the back of the guard's head shooting once before she stood up turning to him .
He tried to scoot back shaking the door beside him in attempt to flee his death , she got in slowly , sitting beside him in a bored manner shutting the door behind her with a swift move, he stilled as she finally looked at him with sharp eyes , feeling cold chills running through his bones he attempted to plead again " I'll give everything you want! Please spare me!" She shook her head as she leaned back into the seat , keeping him cornered as she spoke in a cold voice " you seem to forget our values Mr Matthew , we don't spare traitors , nor do we bargain with death" he shouted at her cursing as he couldn't escape his fate " you're a wretched girl you'll rott in hell! Where you belong !!!!" She gave him a sinister smile as she leaned in close to whisper in his ear " then tell the devil I'm coming for his throne while you're down there" wiping the grin off her face as she shot a final bullet before she got out , closing the door swiftly behind her as she walked away and down the street , clicking her coms back on she updated " target is terminated , Marv status?" stopping by a white van , getting in as she got a response " all clear here , heading out " she looked at the flowing data on the screens before her " copy that " turning to the driver she signalled for him to drive before she reconnect one last time " sirens , your status?" An answer sounds out immediately " targets secured, no casualties, heading out now " satisfied with the results she call out " regrouping in 10 " everyone called back " copy" before she turned off her earpiece, letting the monitor on as they drove back in silence , she filtered through the files in search for what they needed , humming quitely before she stilled with wide eyes in astonishment as she finally came across what she was looking for , smiling devilishly at the screen " Oh , it seems like you've dug yourself a deep hole Mr Ralph , and I'll make sure to bury you in it " .
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sterngiirl · 1 year
Text
Anywhere but home.
Rohan Kishibe x reader.
NSFW, foreplay at the end, a bit semi-public! Also a bit horrific? Enemies to lover dynamics. (;
Rohan is 25 years old in this fic, you are 21, minor age gap. 
Summary: You move into a new house in Morioh, hoping for a fresh start. But soon after you settle in, you begin to notice strange things happening. Objects move on their own, and you hear whispers in the middle of the night. You also start having vivid nightmares that seem to have a connection to the house.
Desperate for answers, you turn to Rohan Kishibe, who is known for his supernatural investigations.
A/N: I re-watched ‘Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan’ recently, and this show is so good. So here I am, trying to write a kind of ‘horrific’ inspired story. It’s my first time writing in this genre, but I enjoyed it very much! So, please enjoy. (;
Word count: 13k (turn out longer than I thought).
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Morioh, Café Deux Magots, 9 am.
You sighed heavily, the fatigue and stress evident in your voice as you spoke. "They keep whispering: 'You belong in this house, you can't escape'. It wakes me up at night, I haven't slept for two weeks." You said, your voice shaking with exhaustion.
You glanced wearily at your coffee cup, the dark liquid providing the only source of energy to keep you going. "I wasn't a fan of coffee, but it's the only thing keeping me awake at this point," you added, feeling defeated and lost. 
You knew you weren't crazy, and that your house was haunted. After two months of unexplainable occurrences and eerie whispers, you had to face the truth.
You had sought out the most arrogant resident of Morioh, Rohan Kishibe, hoping for some kind of solution to your problem. However, his response was far from sympathetic. "Humpf. Considering the state of your face, it's not surprising, really," he retorted, his voice dripping with mock concern.
Your eyes were bloodshot and your hair was unkempt, evidence of the sleepless nights you had endured, there was nothing funny about your situation.
Despite his lack of empathy, you knew Rohan was your only hope, unfortunately. You leaned in, desperation creeping into your voice. "Please, Rohan. I don't know what to do anymore. I can't live like this."
Rohan leaned back in his chair, his piercing gaze focused on you as if trying to read your thoughts. You could feel his eyes on you, evaluating your situation and coming up with a solution. Finally, he broke the silence with a matter-of-fact statement.
"Moves out, changes house."
You felt a surge of frustration at the suggestion. If only it was that simple. 
You had invested everything you had into buying this house and moving to Morioh, and now you were trapped in it. The thought of leaving the town that had captured your heart was unbearable. You had your friends there, your job and study.
"Not everyone has your fortune," you retorted, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice. "I put everything into this house to be in Morioh. I have no solutions."
The sky above the city was a canvas of bright colors, with hues of orange, yellow, and pink blending seamlessly together. The sun was shining high, casting a warm glow over the town, even though it was still early in the morning. The café terrace was a pleasant spot to enjoy the beautiful day, with a gentle spring breeze blowing through the area, carrying with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers.
As you sat at the table, sipping your coffee, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the moment of peace amidst the chaos of your house. The warm sun on your skin and the soft breeze in your hair were soothing, and for a moment, you almost forgot about the whispers and shadows that haunted your every waking moment.
Looking around, you noticed the other patrons of the café, chatting and laughing with each other, completely unaware of the darkness that lurked in your home. It was a strange feeling, knowing that you were the only one experiencing this horror.
"Koichi told me I could ask for your help," you said, trying to keep your tone respectful.
"Koichi thinks I'm friends with everyone, I'm not," Rohan replied in a disinterested manner, not bothering to look up from his coffee cup. 
You couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at Rohan's response. Feeling frustrated and a bit defeated, you took a deep breath and tried to assert yourself. "But you know me," you said, trying to reason with him. "You have a unique set of skills that might be useful in my situation."
Rohan's smirk widened as he leaned back in his chair. "And here I thought you were just another superstitious fool," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But it seems like you're actually serious about this." As he makes his comment he looks up at you.
“Complimenting me? You really got there?” he continued, sarcastically, “You are really desperate.”
You felt a surge of anger rising within you, but you swallowed it back down. Rohan was your last hope. "Yes, I'm serious," you replied, trying to keep your voice calm. "I've been living in that house for two months now, and I know that it's haunted. I can't explain the things that have been happening."
Rohan raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Like what?" he asked.
"Like the voices," you say, frustrated to repeat yourself, shuddering at the memory. "They whisper to me in the middle of the night. And then there are the shadows - they move like they have a life of their own. Also… It seems like the objects are moving and floating."
Rohan leaned forward, his eyes gleaming this time with small interest. "This sounds like something out of a horror movie," he said, still amused.
You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your cool. "And also, Rohan, just because I believe in ghosts doesn't mean I'm crazy. And just because I'm asking for your help doesn't mean I'm a fool." you retorted, almost matching his sassy energy.
Rohan raised an eyebrow, his smirk still in place. "I never said you were crazy or a fool," he said with a fake offended tone. "But you have to admit, a fortnight ago you were perfectly normal. That’s why I’m suspicious.”
You let out a sigh, feeling some of your tension dissipate a little. "I know it's a long shot," you said, "but I'm desperate. I'll do whatever it takes to get rid of these ghosts and reclaim my home."
Rohan reached for a sheet of paper and a pencil, ready to capture your expression. "I don't take this kind of story lightly," he said, "But you seem really, really, really hopeless.” The way he emphasized the word 'really' irked you. “Let me capture that."
You frowned, feeling irritated by his dismissive attitude. "I'm not a character for your manga," you protested weakly.
Rohan simply shrugged and began sketching, his pencil moving quickly over the paper. You watched him in silence, feeling a mix of frustration and exhaustion. Finally, he finished and held up the sketch for you to see.
You stared at the drawing, it was perfectly done, nothing surprising. But strangely, you were disappointed that the only time he drew you was because of your depressed and tired face. Plus, Rohan hadn't made a single effort to make you more charming. 
"I hate you, I really do," you said through gritted teeth.
As you sat across from Rohan, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at his demeanor. It seemed like he was always looking for a way to put you down, always trying to one-up you with his snarky comments and sly remarks. 
Rohan merely chuckled and put the sketch away. "Don't be so dramatic," he said, "It's just a sketch."
As Rohan's hand closed around his coffee cup, his gaze remained locked on you. It was a piercing stare that made your skin tingle and your heart rate quicken. His green eyes seemed to scrutinize every detail of your face, as if searching for something deeper within you. You couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort under his intense gaze, almost as if he was trying to read your mind.
You noticed a small smirk playing on his lips, as if he knew exactly what effect he was having on you. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes burned with a fierce intensity that made you feel like you were under a microscope. It was almost as if he was challenging you to make a move, to push back against his words.
Despite your annoyance at his nonchalant demeanor, you couldn't deny the magnetic pull he had on you. It was a strange mix of attraction and frustration that left you feeling both exhilarated and irritated. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to get closer to him, to understand the depths of his mind that seemed to be hidden beneath his sassy and arrogant personality.
You had known each other for two years, but it always felt like an uphill battle to get along with him. Your relationship had been strained from the beginning, with your shared constant bickering and snarky remarks. He hated the way you handled him with such a lack of interest.
When you first met, you were still a student and had to travel from S city to Morioh for your studies. But now, after settling down permanently a few months ago, you had to face him on a regular basis. It wasn't easy to deal with his (sometimes) cruel personality, but you tried your best to maintain a cordial relationship with him for the sake of Koichi.
And yet, there was always an underlying tension between the two of you.
You both shared a passion for art and culture as you were a journalist and photographer, which should have brought you closer together. But instead, it felt like another point of contention between you. However, deep down, you couldn't deny the fact that there was something intriguing about Rohan that drew you in. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to your relationship than meets the eye.
Breaking the tense silence that had built up dangerously, you spoke up, “So? Now that you believe me, and you're sure I'm not playing a sick joke on you, will you agree to help me?"
"Of course, I'll help you," he said. You couldn't help but notice his serious tone as he responded to your request. He seemed to be considering something, his words cryptic and mysterious. "But only if you're willing to help me in return." 
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering what Rohan could possibly need help with from you.
But before you could ask, he continued, "I have a new idea for my manga, and I think you could help me with it." The great Rohan Kishibe, asking for your help? This was unexpected.
Was this a genuine gesture, or just another one of his games? You couldn't help but feel a twinge of hope concerning your situation.
Still, you were curious. "How can I help?" you asked.
"You'll find out soon enough," he replied enigmatically, "but for now, let's focus on your haunted house. Who knows, maybe this story will inspire me just as well." He shrugged, and brought his coffee cup to his lips.
The Rohan you knew so well, would have relished in your frustration, but this new side of him was different. It was almost... endearing.
Over time, you began to see that there was more to Rohan than just his prickly exterior. You saw tiny glimpses of vulnerability and passion, of someone who was deeply committed to his craft and unafraid to push boundaries. And despite all of his flaws, you found yourself drawn to him, unable to resist.
As you looked into his eyes, you saw a glimmer of something that you couldn't quite put your finger on. Was it attraction? Admiration? Or something else entirely?
But more important is that finally, someone was taking you seriously. "What do we do?" you asked.
Rohan grinned, his eyes glinting with excitement. "We investigate," he said. "We'll spend a night in your haunted house, and see what we can find."
You felt a wave of anxiety wash over you, the thought of facing whatever lurked inside filled you with dread, and it must have been evident on your face because Rohan chuckled at your reaction.
"Don't be afraid, Y/n," he said, his voice soothing and calm. "I'll be there with you. You don't have to face this alone, I’m familiar with the paranormal."
The reassurance in his words did little to quell the fear that had taken root in your heart, but the fact that he was willing to stand by your side gave you a glimmer of hope. As you looked into his eyes, you could see the determination and confidence there.
"One more night shouldn't scare you," he continued, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "And who knows, we might even uncover something interesting."
Despite the unease that still lingered within you, you couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement at the prospect of uncovering the mystery of the haunted house with Rohan by your side. 
With a deep breath, you finally nodded in agreement.
.
.
.
Morioh, your house, 9pm.
As the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, you felt your heart skip a beat. Anxiety and fear had consumed you so completely that you were now paralyzed, unable to even move from your spot. The thought of being alone in the house made you feel vulnerable and exposed.
Hours had passed since you had arrived, and you had spent most of the afternoon anxiously waiting for Rohan's arrival. Every creak and rustle had made you jump, your nerves frayed with the constant anticipation of danger.
You knew Rohan had a busy schedule with a manuscript to complete in the afternoon and an important dinner with his editor that evening. Despite all of this, he promised to come over and help you tonight. You couldn't help but feel grateful for his commitment and dedication, especially considering his busy schedule. And to your surprise, he kept his promise and arrived promptly, showing his reliability and respect for his word.
When you opened the door to welcome Rohan, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. However, he let out a laugh that echoed through the hallway. His silhouette was barely visible in the dim light, but you could tell he was smirking smugly. 
"You look even worse than this morning, Y/n. I almost feel sorry for you," he teased. "Nice pajamas by the way," he added, mockingly commenting on your current outfit.
“Thank you for your kind words Rohan, as always.” You scowled at him, and motioned for him to come in. 
He stepped inside, taking in the interior of your house with a critical eye. It was the first time he had ever been to your place, and it was clear that he was unimpressed.
Your house was simple and small, with a modern design and minimalist decor. There was nothing spooky or foreboding about it, which made you feel a bit embarrassed for calling him over. But the fear of spending another night alone in the house had been too much to bear.
Rohan dropped his bag by the door and walked around the entrance and the living room connected to it, studying the decorations and furniture. "It's not exactly what I was expecting," he remarked, his tone laced with disappointment.
You bristled at his comment. "What were you expecting? A haunted mansion?" you retorted, feeling defensive.
He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "No, not a mansion. But I was hoping for something a bit more... interesting. I mean, where's the history? The character?" he asked, gesturing around the room.
You rolled your eyes, already regretting asking for his help. It was clear that Rohan wasn't easily impressed, and you had a feeling that this was going to be a long night.
You sighed and closed the door behind you, feeling a mixture of nervousness and reluctance as you prepared to spend another night in your haunted house. As you turned to face Rohan, you tried to change the subject for a moment, not particularly excited about investigating the spirits that haunted the place.
"How did your dinner go?" you asked, hoping to distract him and perhaps buy some time before confronting the eerie atmosphere that awaited you.
Rohan was already leaning over the bookcase in your living room, scanning the titles of your books. "That went well," he said, his voice a little weary. "Izumi drains all my energy every time..."
You raised an eyebrow, curious. "Izumi?"
"My editor, remember, you know her," Rohan explained, turning to face you. "But I think I managed to give her the impression that I wasn't uninterested or bored..."
Rohan picked up a book from the shelf and opened it without asking for permission, as if he owned everything. It was a book of documentary photography about Italy, and specifically, the Venice Carnival.
"Since when do you care about people's opinions?" you asked, a bit surprised trying not to show your annoyance. Rohan had always struck you as someone who didn't care much for others.
Rohan chuckled. "Izumi is different," he said, his tone serious. "She works for me, brings me the books I need, and if I disappoint her, they’ll give me another editor. And I don't have the patience for that."
You nodded, understanding his point. Rohan was a successful manga artist, and he relied on his editor to promote and distribute his work. Displeasing her would have dire consequences for his career.
“You aren’t jealous?” Rohan asked curiously, closing the book he had been perusing and tucking it under his arm, shamelessly.
As he asked the question, a frown creased your forehead, and you found yourself surprised by the suddenness of it. You had never thought of yourself as the type to feel jealous, especially not when it came to Rohan. He was your ‘dear’ enemy. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that there was a small part of you that was bothered by his relationship with Izumi.
You couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation at the thought of him putting up with her volatile temper, going to parties and dinners with her, and even talking about his passion. When he couldn't even hold a cordial conversation with you. 
It all seemed so intimate, so exclusive, and you couldn't help but wonder what it was that made her so special. Was it her looks? Her intelligence? Her influence in the publishing industry? You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but the fact remained that Rohan seemed to prioritize her over you, at least in some ways.
Despite these feelings, you knew that you couldn't show them to Rohan. He was too perceptive, too insightful, and would be able to pick up on any subtle cues or hints. So you forced a neutral expression and replied as casually as you could manage, "No, I don't care."
You hoped that your words would be convincing enough to put any doubts or suspicions out of Rohan's mind, but deep down you knew that the issue wasn't really resolved, especially facing his smirk.
"So, are we ready to investigate my house?" Your heart was pounding in your chest as you nervously asked Rohan. You never thought you would actually be saying those words out loud, but here you were, about to face whatever paranormal activity lurked within the walls of your home. 
The thought of facing Rohan's vicious questions was almost as terrifying as the idea of encountering a ghost, so it was time to change his mind once again.
To your surprise, Rohan chuckled at your question and responded with enthusiasm. "Let's do this," he said with a grin. It was clear that he was excited to explore and his eagerness helped to ease some of your anxiety.
Several hours had passed since Rohan's arrival, and the night was well underway, nearing midnight. Despite your expectations, nothing unusual had occurred. No floating objects, no strange whispers, not even a creaking sound. It was almost embarrassing for you, as you knew the paranormal activities that are normally occurring. But in the mangaka's presence, nothing. 
You felt the weight of exhaustion in your eyes, and the temptation to fall asleep was strong. The presence of Rohan, usually unsettling and intimidating, strangely gave you a sense of calm. However you knew that you couldn't let your guard down. So instead, you watched him work, silently impressed by his dedication and attention to detail.
Meanwhile, and to your luck Rohan remained serious and focused on his investigation. He was looking at the papers of the house alongside you in the living room, trying to understand its history, location, and plans. He was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.
Just when you were about to give up hope and go to bed, Rohan suddenly exclaimed, "Ah!" He raised a piece of paper before his eyes and exclaimed, "I was thinking too narrowly. The house was built on an old cemetery. That should explain some of it."
You were surprised and a bit creeped out by the revelation. “The agent took care to hide it from me…”, you said in a plaintive voice. “I wonder why.”
“Maybe they were having trouble selling it, and since you're not exactly from Morioh, they saw an opportunity,” Rohan suggested. He sighed, “It's a shame it happened to you, Y/n. But, it's just a cemetery, nothing that should justify what you described to me.”
As Rohan lifted his eyes from the papers to observe you, his gaze was intense and piercing, as if trying to read your thoughts and emotions. These past days, it was a habit of his, admiring you like a sort of unique masterpiece. 
You couldn't help but feel a bit vulnerable under his scrutiny, but at the same time, there was a sense of understanding and sympathy in his eyes. Which was surprising.
It was almost as if he could see through your tough exterior and was genuinely concerned about your well-being. His gaze was unwavering, yet comforting, and it made you feel like you could trust him in that instant.
“I doubt you've been sleep deprived for weeks to play a trick on me... So you might as well take advantage of the fact that it's quiet so you can get some rest.” He finally said. 
Despite the fact that Rohan's words were unexpectedly kind, you shook your head frantically, feeling the weight of fear pressing down on you. "No, I can't sleep," you replied, your voice trembling. "Sleeping in this house terrifies me, Rohan."
You weren't usually this vulnerable, especially in front of someone like him who could easily take advantage of your weaknesses to make fun of it. But the long hours of being awake, the weariness that crept up on you, and the realization that the house you thought was just an ordinary one had a dark and sinister past, all combined broke down your defenses.
Rohan kept his gaze on you, his hand on his chin as if he was contemplating deeply. You could see the understanding in his eyes, the empathy he felt for you despite his usually aloof and distant demeanor. It was a strangely comforting feeling.
"I didn't say I was leaving," he said after a moment, breaking the silence that had descended upon the room. "I took my clothes to change, if you wish, I will stay with you."
His words surprised you, and you looked up at him in confusion. "Why would you do that for me?"
Rohan shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "I need your help for my manga," he replied. "And besides, I wouldn't want you to be alone in here. Who knows what could happen."
You didn't know what to say, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and apprehension. You knew that Rohan was not the easiest person to be around, and that his presence could be just as unsettling as the house itself. But at the same time, you couldn't deny the fact that having him there made you feel safer somehow.
"Okay," you said finally, giving in to the exhaustion that had been weighing down on you. "Stay with me, please."
On this agreement, you stood up as best you could, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. Ready to go to bed, you turned to Rohan and said, "I don't have a guest room though, I hope you don't mind sleeping in my room."
"I wasn't planning on sleeping in the guest room anyway," Rohan replied, his voice collected. "If something happens, I want both of us to witness it." He carefully put away the papers he had been consulting and neatly picked up his bag.
You watched him in silence, still feeling a bit uneasy about the situation but grateful for his company. You were usually a strong and independent person, but the events of the past few days had taken a toll on you, both physically and mentally.
At this point, you were far too tired to protest or make any of your famous remarks to provoke him. You accepted the situation easily, even though the thought of sharing your bed with Rohan made you feel a bit uneasy.
"Well, follow me," you said, motioning for him to follow you to your room, which was upstairs.
You led Rohan up the stairs towards your bedroom. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you wouldn't have to spend the night alone in this house. You had never been so grateful for someone's company.
Once you reached your bedroom, you hesitated for a moment before opening the door. You knew it was silly, but you couldn't help feeling embarrassed by the state of your room. It was cluttered with books, clothes, and various items, a reflection of your chaotic lifestyle.
"Sorry for the mess," you muttered as you stepped inside, feeling self-conscious.
Rohan didn't seem to mind, though. He simply placed his bag down and looked around the room, taking everything in. "Interesting," he murmured to himself, almost as if he was talking to the room itself.
You couldn't help but feel curious. "What's interesting?" you asked, your fatigue momentarily forgotten.
He turned to face you, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. "Your room. It's like a reflection of your mind. Chaotic, but with a clear sense of purpose. And yet, there's something more, something hidden beneath the surface."
You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine at his words. It was as if he could see right through you. But before you could ask any more questions, he gestured to the bed.
"Come on, let's get some rest," he said, his tone gentle but firm.
You nodded, feeling grateful for his presence once again. As you crawled into bed, you couldn't help but wonder what he meant by his words. Was there really something hidden beneath the surface of your mind? Or was it just your imagination, fueled by the fear and fatigue of the past few weeks?
Rohan bend down to set his bag on the floor, his eyes scanning the room briefly once again. You watched as he took a few steps towards the door before turning to face you once again. "I'm going to change my clothes," he announced.
You nodded in response, and explained to him where the bathroom was. As he left the room, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. The silence that enveloped the room was heavy and suffocating. And not to help, the empty seat next to you seemed to mock you, a constant reminder that in a few moments it would be occupied by Rohan.
You sighed in frustration, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you. On one hand, you couldn't stand Rohan and the way he always seemed to have an answer for everything. He had a way of getting under your skin like no one else could, and you resented him for it.
But on the other hand, you couldn't deny the fact that you were more than glad that out of everyone you knew in Morioh, it was him that was here with you in this moment. There was something about his presence that was comforting, despite the circumstances. It was a strange feeling, and you couldn't quite make sense of it.
As you sat there lost in thought, Rohan returned to the room dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked relaxed but still very stylish. I was as if everything was normal and he had just finished a long day at work, ready to unwind.
"Very well," he said. "Let's get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
Despite his prickly personality, you had always felt a strange connection to Rohan. Maybe it was because you both shared a passion for art, or maybe it was because he had always been there for you when you needed him.
He looked at you and asked, "Feeling any better?" His voice was soft, as he took a seat next to you in the bed. You could feel the weight and the warmth of his presence just next to your body.
You shrugged in response, not quite sure how to answer. "I don't know, to be honest. This whole thing has me feeling pretty shaken up." As you settled in, pushing the cover up to your shoulder, ready to sleep, you felt Rohan's eyes on you. "Is everything alright?" you asked, feeling self-conscious.
Rohan hesitated for a moment before replying, “Nothing.” His answer seemed dismissive, but you could tell that he was holding something back.
You raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Are you sure about that?" you asked, hoping that he would open up to you.
He sighed, clearly not happy to talk about it, but he opened up anyway. "I just wanted to make sure you're comfortable," he said. "You've been through a lot these past few days, and I want to make sure you're okay."
You smiled, feeling touched by his concern. "Thank you," you said. "I'm just glad to have someone here with me."
For a moment you thought your comment made him tense, but he just nodded and turned off the lamp on the bedside table. As the room fell into darkness, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You were grateful for Rohan's presence, and you knew that you wouldn't have been able to get through this without him.
"You know, I don't usually like having anyone stay with me," you admitted. "But it's nice to have someone to talk to."
Rohan chuckled softly. "I know what you mean," he said. "Sometimes it's nice to have someone around, even if you don't want to admit it."
You laughed quietly, feeling a sense of ease between the two of you. "In fact, I'm just glad you are the one here," you admitted, feeling your eyes start to droop with fatigue.
Rohan leaned over, "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered in your ear. "I'll be here as long as you need me."
As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a sense of safety in Rohan's presence.
. . . 'You belong in this house, you can't escape'
The whisper left you with the sensation of a warm breath on the back of your neck, causing your skin to crawl with fear. You woke up with a start, your heart pounding in your chest. When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the darkness that filled your room. It was impossible to know what time it was, if you had even slept for long. 
But in that darkness, you felt a presence, malevolent and dangerous, looming over you like a shadow.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and a cold sweat broke out across your forehead as you lay there, paralyzed with fear. Your mind raced, trying to rationalize the situation, but nothing made sense. You couldn't shake the feeling that someone or something was watching you, waiting to strike.
You tried to reach out from under the blanket to turn on the light of your bedside lamp, but your arm refused to move. It felt as if something was holding you down, trapping you in place. 
The silence was deafening, and you could hear nothing but the sound of your own breathing and the pounding of your heart. The malevolent presence in the room had become more palpable, more tangible.
You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that it was all just a bad dream. But when you opened them again, the darkness remained, and the presence was still there. You knew that you had to do something, but fear had rendered you immobile.
The seconds ticked by like hours, and you could feel your sanity slipping away. You were trapped in a nightmare, with no way out.
At that moment, a sinister voice whispered in your ear, causing every hair on your body to stand on end. ‘Let me feed myself,' you could feel the warm breath gushing over your face, and you knew that you were in grave danger.
You tried to scream, but fear had paralyzed you. You felt like your brain was boiling as you struggled to understand how you could have fallen asleep in the presence of such danger. You tried to think, to collect your thoughts, to remember what had happened, but your mind was in a haze.
You were frozen in fear, unable to move or even breathe. Every nerve in your body was screaming for you to get up, to run, to do something, but you were unable to move a muscle.
Then suddenly a spark of hope came to your mind, yes, Rohan. Desperately, you reached out for him, hoping to find some comfort in his presence. But your hand met nothing but cold, empty space. 
Terror flooded your body as the realization hit you that you were completely alone.
Unable to contain your fear any longer, you began to cry uncontrollably. Your sobs echoed through the empty room  in a plaintive, painful moan, a haunting sound that only added to the terror of the situation. The darkness seemed to press in on you, suffocating you with its weight.
You were convinced that this was the end. The last night of your life. The thought filled you with a sense of crushing despair, and you sobbed even harder, your body wracked with pain.
“Y/n!” someone yelled out your name. 
The door to your room creaked open, and you were momentarily blinded by the sudden flood of light. You blinked several times, trying to adjust your vision to the brightness. When your eyes finally focused, you saw Rohan standing in the doorway, his expression etched with concern.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find the words to respond. You managed to stammer out, "Did you see it? It was just here a moment ago."
Rohan's eyes widened with alarm as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "Who was here? What are you talking about?"
You could feel the fear rising up in your throat as you tried to explain what had just happened. Rohan listened to you, trying to understand your rambling words. He didn't seem very convinced. "T-The shadow," you said, your voice trembling. "It was here with me. I felt a breath on the back of my neck."
Rohan's expression softened as he realized how scared you were. He crossed the room to stand next to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It's okay," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I'm here now. You're safe."
You let out a shuddering breath, feeling the tension slowly begin to drain from your body. You looked around the room, but there was no sign of anyone else. It was just you and Rohan.
"I don't understand," you said, your voice still shaking. "I was so sure that there was someone else in here with me."
Rohan nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Sometimes our minds can play tricks on us," he said. "Especially when we're scared or anxious. It's possible that you just imagined it."
You knew that Rohan was trying to help, but his words didn't bring you any comfort. You were certain that there had been someone else in the room with you. But who? And why? The questions swirled around in your mind, leaving you feeling more confused and frightened than ever.
However, you barely had time to dry your tears when Rohan took you by the shoulders, shaking you a little in the process, you could feel your heart racing and your body tensing up. You knew exactly what he was about to do, and you were not ready for it. You had begged him before not to use his Stand, Heaven's Door, on you again, and you thought he had agreed not to. But here he was, with his hand raised and his Stand activated, ready to invade your mind once again.
Tears were still streaming down your face as you pleaded with him to stop. "No, Rohan, please! You promised me you wouldn't do this again!" Your voice was choked with emotion, but it didn't seem to deter him. He was determined to get the information he wanted, no matter the cost to your well-being.
You were acutely aware of the strange happenings in Morioh, with the bizarre powers possessed by many of its inhabitants. You hadn’t one, but Koichi and Okuyasu talked about their Stands and their abilities, and you knew that Rohan's Stand was even more dangerous than most. He could manipulate your memories and thoughts, altering them in any way he saw fit. The thought of him rooting around in your mind, exposing your most private thoughts and memories, filled you with a sense of dread.
You recalled the last time he had used his Stand on you, demonstrating its powers by using some of your deepest secrets to mock you. It had been a traumatic experience that left you feeling violated and helpless. After that, you had made him promise not to use it on you again, but now it seemed he had gone back on his word.
Rohan's arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you into a close embrace. You could feel his strong chest pressing against yours, his body heat enveloping you in a warm embrace. Despite your anger towards him, you couldn't help but notice how muscular and toned he felt despite his slender figure, and a small part of you found the closeness exhilarating.
You struggled against his grip, pushing against his chest with all your might, but he held you even tighter, refusing to let you go. His hands slid down your back, holding you firmly against him, and you could feel his breath on your neck as he leaned in closer.
"Please calm down," he tried to soothe you. "I'm doing this for your own good."
You gritted your teeth, angry at him for violating your trust and breaking his promise. But even as you pushed against him, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of longing deep within you, a desire for something more than just anger and frustration.
Despite your protests, Rohan didn't stop. "I'm sorry Y/n, but I have to get this straight. Heaven's Door!" he said, as his hand made contact with your forehead you felt a strange sensation, almost like he was peeling back the layers of your mind.
A bright light flashed before your eyes and you felt your body go limp. Your consciousness seemed to fade away as the pages of a book appeared all around you. You were suddenly aware that Rohan's stand had turned you into a book, and he was reading through the pages to learn everything about you. You wanted to scream, to protest against this invasion of your privacy, but you were unable to move or speak. 
You were completely at his mercy.
The next thing you knew, your world went black, and you lost consciousness.
As you regained consciousness, you realized that you were not alone in the room. You found yourself lying on Rohan's shoulder, and he was reading a book. "I hate you," you groaned and ran your hand over your face to make sure everything was back to normal.
You lifted your head from his shoulder slightly, trying to collect your thoughts. Rohan on the other hand chuckled softly, the sound of his voice almost taunting. "So I was right, you really are jealous of Izumi."
You felt a twinge of embarrassment as Rohan revealed his knowledge of your jealous feelings towards Izumi. You had been trying to hide those feelings from everyone, even yourself, because you knew they were unfounded and irrational. There was no concrete reason for your jealousy, only the fact that Rohan seemed to pay more attention to her than to you.
It was frustrating to feel this way, but you couldn't help it. You knew that Izumi was a talented editor, and it was natural for Rohan to want to work with her. But still, the way he praised her and seemed to be constantly in her presence made you feel somehow insecure.
You wince, feeling a pang of annoyance. "Why do you always have to do that?"
"I'm sorry, Y/n. I couldn't help it. You know how I am." Rohan closed the book he was holding and placed it on the coffee table, his tone light. Rohan tilted his head and smiled. "Jealousy can be a powerful emotion, but it doesn't have to control you. I don’t admit it often, but you're important to me too, you know that."
“Thank you.” You looked up at him, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe there was nothing to be jealous of after all. However, his teasing demeanor didn't amuse you. "Is that really the only information you found interesting? Nothing to do with my house?" you asked.
You sat up and looked around, trying to get your thoughts straight. As you took in your surroundings, you couldn't help but notice the strikingly luxurious decor of Rohan's living room. The room was well-lit with recessed lighting fixtures that cast a warm, welcoming glow. You noticed that there were several pieces of artwork adorning the walls, all of which seemed to be original pieces.
You recognized some of the furniture pieces from Rohan's manga, Pink Dark Boy. The couch you were sitting on was plush and comfortable, covered in soft velvet fabric. It was positioned facing a large flat-screen television mounted on the opposite wall, which was currently displaying a paused documentary.
To your left was a sleek black coffee table adorned with a stack of magazines and books, including some of Rohan's own publications. The bookshelves lining the walls were filled to the brim with novels, manga, and art books. You could see that Rohan had an extensive collection of literature and graphic novels, many of which you had also heard of before.
As you took in the details of the room, you couldn't help but feel a little out of place. The decor was far too extravagant and not to your taste. It was clear that Rohan had a penchant for luxury, and you couldn't help but wonder how much he had spent on the furnishings and artwork.
"Why are we at your house?" you asked, confused.
Rohan looked at you with a sly smirk, "Well, you passed out, so I brought you here to rest. And, of course, to get some more information about you."
You groaned, "I can't believe you did it again. I thought we had an agreement."
Rohan's smile faded slightly, "I'm sorry, Y/n. But I had to know. There's something strange going on, and I need to protect myself and those close to me." he paused, “Simply put, you.”
You let out a deep sigh of frustration. Rohan's behavior was so unpredictable, one moment he was teasing and mocking you, the next he claimed to be there to protect you. It was difficult for you to decipher what his true intentions were, especially in your current emotional state. You felt confused and conflicted, not knowing what or who to believe. It was as if Rohan was playing a constant game of tug-of-war with your emotions while you desperately wanted to trust him.
"I understand that, but you can't just go around invading people's privacy like that. It's not right." you finally say.
Rohan nodded, "I know, and I promise not to do it again. But, let's focus on the actual useful information I found. You were asking about the house, right?"
You nodded, "Yes, please tell me what you found."
Rohan's expression was grave, indicating that what he had to say was of great importance. "I cannot determine if the house is a stand or if it is genuinely haunted by the spirits of the cemetery. However, when I used Heaven's Door on you, I only found information from the evening, none of your past. These pages were blank," he explained.
He propped his hand on his chin, looking contemplative. "I couldn't sleep, so I decided to explore the house thoroughly to see if I could find any clues. But I came up empty-handed. However, I believe the house is feeding off of you. To test my theory, I brought you here, and indeed, your past came back on the pages," he continued, his eyes studying you closely.
You listened to him intently, a mixture of fear and curiosity gnawing at your insides. "What do you mean, the house is feeding off of me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Rohan let out a deep sigh. "I don't know. It's just a theory for now. But I believe that the house is somehow drawing on your memories, possibly to sustain itself or grow stronger. Maybe even digest you with time," he explained, his gaze never leaving you.
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "What are we going to do?" you asked, feeling a shiver run down your spine.
Rohan's expression softened slightly as he reached out and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We'll figure it out together. I won't let anything happen to you," he promised, his eyes holding yours.
You couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion and surprise at the way Rohan was acting. The Rohan you had known for years was confident, charismatic, and always seemed to be in control. He could be sharp-tongued and cutting, and never hesitated to use his wit to put others in their place. But this Rohan, the one who was being gentle and supportive, was a side of him you had never seen before.
As you thought about it, you realized that you had never really seen him in private before. You had only ever seen him in public, where he was always performing for others. But now, in this private moment, he was showing you a side of himself that was vulnerable and caring.
You couldn't help but wonder what had brought about this change in him. Was it your current situation that had softened him? Or was he simply revealing a side of himself that he had kept hidden from others?
Either way, you found yourself grateful for his kindness and support. It made you feel less alone in this strange, unsettling situation.
"Tomorrow, Koichi and I will go and get your affairs. And while we sort it out, you'll live here. Unlike you, because I'm objectively wealthier, I have a guest room you can stay in," he explained, looking at you with a serious expression.
You couldn't believe it. Rohan, who had always treated you with disdain and ridicule, was now offering you a place to stay and helping you with your problems. You felt tears forming in your eyes, but this time they were tears of relief and gratitude.
"Thank you Rohan, thank you very much," you said, your voice cracking with emotion.
And under the emotion, you took him in your arms. As you hugged him, you felt the tension in your body slowly begin to dissipate. It was as if the weight of the situation was lifting off your shoulders, and you were grateful for Rohan's support. You held him tightly, trying to convey the depth of your gratitude.
At first, he didn't react much to your embrace, and you could feel his body tensing up under your touch. It was clear that Rohan was not used to physical affection, and you wondered how often he allowed himself to be vulnerable like this. However, after a few moments, he wrapped his arms around your waist, his hold initially awkward and unsure. But then, gradually, his embrace became firmer, and you could feel him drawing you closer.
He rested his chin on the top of your head, and you could feel his breath on your hair. For a few moments, you simply held each other, neither of you speaking. You felt a sense of comfort in his embrace, and it was almost as if the two of you were connected in a way that went beyond words.
Eventually, Rohan let out a small sigh, and you could feel him relaxing his hold on you slightly. It was as if he was still uncertain about showing this level of affection, but he didn't want to push you away rudely. So you did it for him, pulling yourself back slightly, looking up at him, and you could see a faint blush on his cheeks.
"I'm doing all this for my manga, don't get any ideas," he said, his tone teasing but also a little guarded.
You couldn't help but laugh, even though your voice was muffled by your sobs. "Of course," you said, smiling up at him. Despite his attempt to downplay the moment, you knew that Rohan was genuinely there for you, and you were grateful for his support.
.
.
.
Morioh, Rohan’s house, 5 pm.
As the days passed, you settled into Rohan's home, gradually becoming more comfortable with your living situation. You discovered that he was not the arrogant, unfeeling man he had initially portrayed himself as, but rather someone who was fiercely passionate about his work and those he cared about.
You both spent long hours talking about everything under the sun, sharing your hopes, fears, and dreams. You found yourself admiring him, his sharp wit and intelligence, his strong will and determination.
Despite knowing that your feelings for him were forbidden, you couldn't help but fall for him. You tried to push these feelings aside, but the more time you spent with him, the more difficult it became to ignore the pull you felt towards him. You found yourself anticipating his presence, longing to hear his voice and see his face.
Your heart would flutter whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief brush of his hand, and you found yourself daydreaming about him more and more often. You knew that the consequences of acting on your feelings could be disastrous, but it was hard to resist the allure of this man who had become your friend, your enemy, and your protector all at once.
Despite your internal struggles, your time at Rohan's house was the happiest you had been in a while. You felt safe and protected, surrounded by his lavish lifestyle and the comforts of his home. He had even shown you around his private studio, where he spent countless hours creating his manga masterpieces. The walls were lined with sketches and drawings, each one a testament to his talent and creativity. 
As you spent more time at Rohan's house, you began to notice more of his quirks and idiosyncrasies. He was a man who held himself to a high standard, sometimes to the point of being overly critical of his own work. You admired his dedication and attention to detail, but it also meant that he could be a perfectionist at times.
Despite this, Rohan was also surprisingly sensitive and empathetic. You had caught him watching sad movies by himself late at night, and he would sometimes open up to you about his own personal struggles. Seeing this vulnerable side of him made your heart ache with compassion and understanding.
As your feelings for him grew, you couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way. You caught him looking at you sometimes, his piercing gaze making your heart race. But then he would quickly look away, as if embarrassed.
The tension between you two was more palpable than ever, but neither of you dared to cross the line. You knew it was forbidden to feel this way, but you couldn't help it. Rohan had become such an important part of your life, and you couldn't imagine living without him.
However, your happiness was short-lived.
"Y/n?" Rohan called out from the doorway to find out where you were.
As you basked in the warmth of the sun, enjoying your soda and engrossed in your manga, Rohan's voice calling your name jolted you back to reality. You quickly set your manga down and turned your gaze towards the inside of the house, "I'm outside!" you replied, calling back from one of the outdoor patio chairs where you sat. 
As he walked towards you. His usually calm and collected demeanor was replaced with an air of agitation that made you uneasy. 
As he sat down beside you, you couldn't help but notice that he was empty-handed, a rare occurrence for him after a shopping trip. You knew Rohan was an avid collector of books and that he rarely returned from a trip without a few new additions to his already extensive library.
"Is something wrong?" you asked him, concern etched on your face.
"I have managed to crack the secret of your house. I lied to you, I didn't want to worry you. But it's all cleared up," Rohan said, his voice low.
The news hit you like a ton of bricks. You were stunned, unable to process the implications of what Rohan had just revealed. Your mind was racing with questions, wondering how he could have possibly uncovered the secret of your house.
"Wait, what do you mean?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly with fear and anxiety.
Rohan took a deep breath, his expression serious and grave. "There was a box hidden within the walls," he explained. "It was trapped, and it contained the souls of everyone who ever lived in the house. It was probably put there as revenge for desecrating a cemetery."
Your heart sank at the thought of the trapped souls, and you felt a chill run down your spine. It was a terrifying concept, and you couldn't believe that something like that could have been hidden in your house, how many people had disappeared because of it.
"I destroyed it after studying it," Rohan announced, pulling out a sheet of paper from his bag. He handed it to you, and as you looked closer, you saw that it was a series of intricate sketches of the box from various angles. The level of detail was impressive, and even as a drawing, the box looked ominous and unsettling.
You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you gazed at the sketches, trying to imagine what it must have been like to come face to face with such a terrifying artifact. "This is what was trying to ingest your soul,” Rohan teased with a smirk, his eyes sparkling mischievously. The comment sent a chill through you, but you couldn't help but appreciate the humor in his tone.
Relief washed over you, and you couldn't help but let out a small sigh.  "Thank you, Rohan," you said, feeling a surge of gratitude towards him. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
Rohan let out a small huff, and a hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips. "You don't have to thank me," he replied in a casual tone, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
You couldn't help but laugh as you listened to Rohan's response. His usual detached and arrogant attitude had been stripped away, and you could sense a newfound sincerity in his words. Knowing the lengths he had gone to solve the mystery of your house, you found his remarks more endearing than annoying.
"Well, I still want to thank you. You saved me from a lot of trouble," you said, smiling at him.
Rohan's smirk grew a little wider at your words. "It was a minor inconvenience, really," he said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head. "Besides, I'm always up for a good mystery to solve."
You chuckled, glad that he was taking it so well. "Well, I'm just glad it's over. I can finally go home." You tried to hide the reluctance in your voice.
Rohan's smirk turned mischievous as he leaned towards you. "But do you really want to leave? You could stay here with me, you know." He winked at you, causing you to roll your eyes and laugh.
"Nice try, Rohan. But I think it's time for me to go home and stop bothering you with my insufferable presence." You stood up from the chair. "Thank you again for taking care of everything."
Rohan stood up as well, "I think, Y/n, you have forgotten our deal." He put his hand on your shoulder to stop you.
It's been a while now, and with everything that's been going on lately, you've forgotten the original agreement. "I have to help you with your manga, right?"
“Yes,” Rohan spoke calmly as he leaned in towards you, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, the heat of the summer sun adding to the sensation. You could smell his expensive cologne, a pleasant scent that mixed with the fresh air and the nearby flowers. 
As you stood there in Rohan's embrace, you couldn't help but notice the way his body felt against yours. The warmth of his bare skin, the firmness of his muscles, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took.
His hold was firm but not overpowering, allowing you to move slightly if you wanted to, but you knew he wouldn't let go unless he had to. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing yourself to be enveloped in his warmth.
Since the night he brought you to his house, you hadn't been this close to him again. Sometimes you would sit on the sofa together, watching a film or a documentary, or chatting about random things. 
Sometimes you would cook together in the kitchen, trying out new recipes and enjoying each other's company. But nothing like this.
It was strange, you thought to yourself, how this moment could feel so intimate. If he too was aware of the way his body was pressed against yours, of the way your heartbeats seemed to sync up. But you didn't dare ask, afraid of what his answer might be.
"Since I solved the case of your house, technically, you can't refuse me anything." Rohan's voice interrupted your thoughts. His breath hitched in your neck, reminding you of the proximity. The warmth of his body pressed against you, making it difficult to focus on anything else. His grip tightened, holding you in place.
There was nothing romantic or sympathetic about his words. It was a reminder that there was an arrangement, almost professional in its nature. It was all calculated. Just when you were beginning to think he had a kind heart...
"You did all this... In order to use the agreement to get your way?" You asked, disappointed.
Rohan just chuckled, still holding you close. "You've already helped me a lot, you know. I needed to add a strong female character to my manga, and having you by my side lately has given me everything I needed."
As he spoke, his left hand roamed your back dangerously, exploring every single inch. Being in a tank top because of the heat, it didn't take him long to find your bare skin underneath. The sensation of his fingers tracing patterns on your skin sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.
"I could see your character, your habits, but I didn't get a chance to feel your body." He smiled, his thumb running over your lips with his free hand, “Or your lips, I wonder how they taste…”. You could feel your heart racing in your chest as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.
As much as you tried to resist, there was something undeniably attractive about him. The way he held you, the way he spoke, the way his touch sent electric currents through your body - it was all too much to ignore.
But you couldn't let him have his way. "That doesn't mean you can just do whatever you want," you said, trying to sound strong and assertive despite the butterflies in your stomach.
Rohan chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "Of course not, my dear. But it does mean that you owe me a favor or two." He leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching yours. "And who knows what else I might need from you in the future."
You were acutely aware of the tension building between you and Rohan. His confident and arrogant demeanor had always been a turn-on for you, but you also knew that giving in to him would mean crossing a line you might not be able to come back from. It was a dangerous game you were playing, but one that you couldn't seem to resist.
"Rohan, this isn't what we agreed on," you said firmly, trying to ignore the way your body was begging for more. "I agreed to be a model of observation to satisfy your curiosity and help feed your manga. But this...this isn't part of the deal." It was not how you imagined things would develop.
Rohan just smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Who said anything about agreements?" he said, his hand still hovering close to your skin. His teasing was torture, and he knew it. "I'm just a man who knows what he wants, and right now, what I want is you."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "You can't just change the rules like that. It's not fair to me," you said, your voice firm. "Besides, I'm not just some character in your manga. I'm a real person with feelings and desires, and I won't be treated like an object."
Rohan's smile faded slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might back down. But then he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your lips. "I know you're more than just a character," he whispered. "And I promise to treat you with the respect you deserve. But right now, I can't resist you."
"Why do you always have to be so smug?" you retorted, trying to mask the wavering in your voice. "I don't want to complicate things between us."
Rohan held you closer, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. "Complication is what makes life interesting," he said softly, looking directly at you.
You could feel his body pressing against yours, his hand now firmly on your waist. Despite your better judgment, a part of you couldn't deny the attraction you felt for him. "I can't do this, Rohan," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't let things go any further between us. It's not right." You tried to resist, in vain. 
You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and inviting. His eyes were fixed on yours, dark and intense, as if they were trying to read your deepest desires. You knew he could see right through your lies, and it was infuriating.
"Stop trying to fight it," he said, his voice low and husky. "You know you want this as much as I do."
You shook your head, trying to push him away. "This is wrong, we are enemies," you protested weakly, but your body betrayed you as it leaned into him.
He chuckled, his lips curving into a devilish grin. "Wrong? Who says what's wrong or right? I can feel the heat between us. Don't pretend like you can't."
His hands traced lazy circles on your back, sending shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes, trying to push away the dirty thoughts that were flooding your mind. This was a mistake. You had agreed to help him with his manga if he would with your house, but you never intended for things to go this far. Yet here you were, in his arms, giving in to his every touch and caress.
"Rohan, please," you whispered, but he didn't stop. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing this time against your ear.
"Please what?" he murmured, his voice sending chills down your spine. "Please stop? Please keep going?"
Under his touch, your resolve began to crumble as the heat from his body wrapped around you like a cocoon. The attraction between you two was palpable, almost suffocating, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You knew it was only a matter of time before you surrendered completely to him.
"Please, keep going..." You whispered, your voice barely above a breathy sigh.
You felt your heart racing as his lips met yours in a searing kiss, his hands traveling down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Your body was responding to his touch in ways you never thought possible, and the chemistry between you was undeniable.
As you melted into his embrace, you could feel all thoughts and worries of the past few days slipping away. The only thing that mattered was the passion and desire that coursed through your veins. You were completely consumed by the intensity of your feelings for him, and you knew that there was no turning back.
His kisses were extremely demanding, but you responded eagerly, your own desire building with each passing moment. The intensity of the connection that had been brewing for so long, was finally released.
As his hands explored your body, you couldn't help but arch into him, wanting more of his touch. You knew that this was dangerous territory, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop. The pull towards him was too strong, and you knew that you would do whatever it took to be with him.
You were lost in the moment, consumed by the intensity of your feelings for him. The world around you faded away as you gave in completely to the heat, reveling in the passion that you shared.
Rohan's toned arms wrapped around your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly and carrying you to the table. You gasped at the sudden movement, feeling a jolt of excitement shoot through you. You were taken aback by his sudden boldness, but couldn't deny the thrill it sent through your body.
Sitting on the table, you felt a rush of cool air hit your back as Rohan's warm body pressed up against yours once again. His lips captured yours again, his tongue slipping past your lips this time, teasing and caressing, exploring your mouth with a hunger that took your breath away.
Despite the rush of passion, a part of you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. You were still outside on the patio of his house, with the possibility of being seen by anyone who happened to walk by. But Rohan didn't seem to care, his hands wandering freely over your body, caressing every curve and dip.
His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth. The sound only seemed to spur him on, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and exposing your bare stomach and chest to the cool night air. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him even closer.
Finally, when the need for air became too much, you both pulled back, gasping for breath. You looked into each other's eyes, the intensity of the moment still lingering between you. It was clear that neither of you wanted to stop there, but for now, you both settled for the electric touch of your bodies as you sat on the table, lost in each other's embrace.
"Perfect and delightful," he said, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction. Rohan's satisfied expression only added to the intensity of the moment, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having pleased him. As he wiped the drool from his mouth with his thumb, he added, "See, you can help me when you put your mind to it."
His gaze was different from his usual arrogant demeanor, and you could feel the affection and happiness radiating from him. It made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but blush under his gaze. Despite his good looks and charm, you always tried to keep your distance, but in this moment, you couldn't help but admire him.
"If it really helps..." you trailed off, unsure of how to continue.
He chuckled at your shyness. "Of course it does. You have a really beautiful face, your voice is perfect, and your skin is soft." He paused for a moment, studying your face. "You know, you're not just helping me with my manga. You're also helping me become a better artist."
"I'm glad I can help," you said softly, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
And then, his hands landed softly on your chest, their feather-light touch sending shivers down your spine. Despite the gentle caress, there was a hint of cruelty in his expertise, as if he was toying with your nipples just to see how far he could push you. The way he moved his hands with such precision and care made you feel like you were a rare and precious work of art, and your heart raced with the intensity of the moment.
You couldn't help but notice the way he studied you, his eyes taking in every inch of your body as if committing it to memory. It was as if he was learning every curve, every line, every inch of you. The attention he gave you was exhilarating.
As his fingers traced delicate patterns across your chest, you felt your breath catch in your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan. He seemed to revel in your reaction, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he continued his exploration.
It was as if he was in a trance, lost in the sensation of touching you, and you couldn't help but feel like you were under his spell. His touch was delicate yet powerful, pinching your nipples and caressing your skin, a perfect balance of tenderness and domination that left you craving.
Rohan's hand continued its relentless exploration, moving down your stomach, to the edge of your inner thigh. His fingers were soft and delicate against your skin. You tried to resist, but your body betrayed you, responding eagerly to his touch.
"Y/n, darling," he said huskily, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear. "And I love how much power I have over you."
His words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips. You were helpless under his touch, completely at his mercy.
"Rohan, please," you gasped, but your protests were half-hearted at best, you were almost begging him at this point. Deep down, you didn't really want him to stop. You desperately wanted him to keep going, to take you to heights of pleasure that you had never experienced before.
And as his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts, you knew that there was no turning back. Rohan's fingers traced the edge of your panty, teasingly brushing against the wetness of it. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and you found yourself arching towards him, silently begging for more.
"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your neck. "I could spend hours exploring every inch of you."
You moaned in response, your mind foggy with desire. His touch was sending shivers down your spine, and you felt like you were on the brink of something incredible.
"Please, Rohan," you whispered, unable to form a coherent sentence. "I need you."
You couldn't control the sounds that escaped your lips as Rohan's fingers slipped ast your panty, delving deeply inside you. The sensations were overwhelming, and you felt like you were on the brink of losing yourself completely to him. His expert touch was electric, and you couldn't help but writhe and moan beneath him.
He leaned in closer, pressing his lips to your ear, "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet for me," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. His words only served to heighten the intensity of the moment, sending you spiraling further into ecstasy.
You were soaking wet at this point, drenched for him. His finger stroked your insides, his thumb brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves while his lips lingered on your breasts, placing numerous small kisses with a certain amount of hunger. 
As he added a second finger, your body responded eagerly, your legs tightening around him, trapping him against the table and your body. Your insides softened further, the stretching of his fingers was astounding. You were completely consumed by the pleasure he was giving you, and you wanted nothing more than to surrender yourself to him completely.
"You're doing so well, my good girl," Rohan hummed, his breath hot against your skin as he continued his relentless assault on your body. "Perfect for me."
And as he added a third finger, the stretching of your insides was almost overwhelming. His fingers shattered everything, all the common sense you had in you. You wanted him to ruin you with his love. In a manner as violent as the emotions you had for each other. 
With each additional finger, your insides were stretched beyond your wildest imagination. Rohan's dexterity was almost unbelievable as his fingers moved in and out of you teasing your most sensitive spots, his thumb brushing expertly against your sensitive bundle of nerves. He kissed his way up your neck, placing numerous small kisses, while you writhed beneath him, completely under his spell.
With each movement of his fingers, you felt yourself edging closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. You were so close that it was almost painful, and you couldn't help but moan his name, begging him to take you over the edge.
As if sensing your imminent release, Rohan increased the pressure of his fingers and his thumb, sending you over the edge with a loud cry. You came hard, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
And as he finally pushed you over the edge, your body convulsed with pleasure. You were lost in the sensation, completely consumed by the intensity of your feelings for him. 
But even as your body was wracked with pleasure, you knew that you wanted more. You wanted Rohan to continue his ministries, to take you to even greater heights of pleasure. You were completely under his spell, lost in the ecstasy of his touch. Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked up at him, feeling completely vulnerable and exposed, yet strangely safe in his arms.
"You're amazing," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I want more."
As your body slowly came down from the heights of pleasure, you couldn't help but feel a sense of submission to him. You knew that you would do anything for Rohan, no matter how frightening or dangerous it might be. You were completely his, consumed by the intensity of your feelings for him.
Rohan's eyes bore into yours as he slowly withdrew his fingers from inside you, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. This left you with a void that bothered you. But his smug smile told you that he was pleased to see you in such a messy and desperate state, begging for more of his touch.
But Rohan wasted no time in bringing his fingers to his mouth,, you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. The way he savored the taste of your essence, his tongue running between his fingers to clean them, was extremely erotic and perverse. His tongue ran between his fingers, cleaning them of your essence as he tasted you. It was an incredibly intimate act. You couldn't help but watch in fascination as he licked his fingers clean, his eyes never leaving yours.
The way he looked at you made you feel like the only person in the world, like he couldn't get enough of you. And as he slowly removed his fingers from his mouth, you knew that he was far from finished with you.
He leaned in so close that you could feel his breath on your lips, sending shivers down your spine. As his words flowed over you like warm honey, you felt a wave of desire wash over you. "You taste so delicious," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "I could do this all day."
Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips claiming yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You melted against him, your body responding to his touch like it always did.
But as quickly as the moment began, it was over. Rohan pulled away, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "However," he said, his voice low and husky. "I have to go and draw all this to make sure I'm not missing any details."
You looked at him in disbelief. "Are you going to leave me like this?" you protested.
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers through you. "We might be seen," he replied, his eyes scanning the area around you. "You're moaning quite loudly, darling."
You blushed, embarrassed by your own lack of self-control. He put your shirt and shorts back on, his touch gentle and comforting. "But I didn't say you were finished helping me," he said, his eyes locking onto yours. "Even if you don't live with me anymore, I hope you'll come often," he added, his tone turning playful. “You are always welcome,”
You wanted to protest, to tell him that you couldn't keep doing this, that it was too much for your heart to handle. But before you could say anything, Rohan kissed you again, his lips silencing your words. And then he was gone, disappearing inside the building to continue his work.
You were left standing there, feeling a mix of frustration, desire, and confusion. You pouted, the words "I hate you" escaping your lips in a soft whisper. But even as you said them, you knew that they weren't true. You didn't hate Rohan - quite the opposite.
308 notes · View notes
yoonavii · 5 months
Text
𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀
Gladiator Prince! Eustass x Warrior princess! Reader
Story description: Y/n, a skilled ice warrior from the frigid kingdom of Nosta, and Prince Eustass, a ruthless gladiator prince hailing from the enemy nation, the Modora Empire. Their two nations have a long history of conflict and animosity. However, when a dire situation calls for a political marriage to secure peace, Y/n and Eustass find themselves bound together in a union neither desires. As they navigate the treacherous path of diplomacy, they must confront their own prejudices and the weight of their peoples’ expectations. Through adversity and danger, the icy walls between them slowly begin to melt, and they discover unexpected connections and feelings, transforming their initial enmity into a deep and passionate love of the ages.
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑
As the carriage races through the unforgiving winter terrain, driven by giant snow wolves accustomed to such harsh conditions, you find yourself caught in the chaos of the storm. Despite the violent rocking and jostling, you manage to sleep soundly, occasionally twitching and jerking as your maid covers you with additional blankets. The wolves, relentless in their speed, propel the carriage forward, ensuring no delays or accidents disrupt the carefully planned journey. In your slumber, you drift into a vivid dream, a haunting flashback to your younger years spent hunting in the wintery forest mountains alongside your late mother, the queen of the Nosta kingdom. The dream unfolds with both of you perched in tall trees, bows and arrows in hand, scouting for prey. Your mother, a mentor and guide, coaches you on aiming with precision. In the dream, younger you attentively listens to her instructions, but a misstep in the tree branches sends you plummeting from a great height. The impending impact vanishes as you abruptly awaken, your body instinctively going into defense mode. In the waking world, you clutch your hidden axe, the weapon concealed beneath you.
Your maid, alarmed by your sudden movement, implores you to calm down. Fear etches her face as she tries to reassure you, the residual tension from the dream lingering in the air. In the dream, your mother's voice resonates, offering guidance and comfort. "Focus, my dear. A true warrior learns from every stumble….." The dream's echoes fade, leaving you grappling with the lingering emotions and memories it stirred.
———
As hours and days passed, the harsh winter weather yielded to a more temperate climate, signaling your arrival in the Modora Empire's territory. The coachman skillfully slowed the wolves, bringing the carriage to a gentle stop. A well-deserved break was in order, not just for the wolves but for everyone in the caravan. The subsequent carriages, carrying royal guards, additional maids, and their belongings, also came to a halt. Your personal maid greeted you with a cheerful "Good morning" as she assisted you out of the carriage. Returning the greeting, you acknowledged everyone around you. Other maids hurried over, armed with lighter and more comfortable clothing suitable for the warmer climate. They worked efficiently, swiftly transforming your appearance and enhancing your natural beauty.
Spotting your loyal bodyguard and friend, Law, you greeted him with a warm hug. Despite his initial stiffness, he accepted the gesture. With a chuckle, you inquired about his experience during the journey. Law, typically stoic, couldn't hide his dissatisfaction, expressing his disdain for the snowstorm. Your laughter echoed, a moment of shared amusement amidst the challenges of the journey. As you survey the surroundings, your eyes are met with a breathtaking sight – lush green valleys adorned with vibrant flowers. The spectacle of nature's abundance is a stark contrast to the snowy landscapes you're accustomed to back home. In the Nosta Kingdom, greenery was a rarity, with the closest semblance found in the herbs that thrived within the confines of mountain caves. The vibrant hues and fragrant blossoms of the Modora Empire's terrain unfold before you, a testament to the diverse beauty that exists beyond the icy kingdom you once called home.
In the midst of the serene landscape, two large wild boars emerge, seemingly lost from their group. Towering in size compared to the hogs of the Nosta kingdom, these creatures are a testament to the diverse environments within Modora's territory. The prospect of their sizable meat and fur doesn't go unnoticed, and you signal for your prized bow and arrow, a cherished possession passed down from your mother, the queen. Crafted from steel and adorned with ancient engravings, the bow carries a legacy. As you ready your arrow, the boars, sensing the impending threat, hasten their retreat. Undeterred, you take off in pursuit, the maids cautioning you not to venture too far falling on deaf ears. Closing the distance, you seize the opportunity, sliding gracefully on your side and expertly angling the arrow. With precision, you release the shot, striking the boar's stomach and bringing it down. The successful hunt is both a display of skill and a reminder of the resourcefulness required in these unfamiliar lands.
"Whoa! This boar is bigger than I thought," you exclaimed, approaching the fallen creature with a mix of awe and accomplishment. Pressing your foot on top of it, you deftly retrieved the arrow. The other hog, sensing the danger, had fled, but the success of the hunt assured that there would be plenty for everyone. The soldiers, swift in their response, caught up and took charge of retrieving the hog. It would soon find its way to the traveling party's chef, who would expertly skin and prepare it, ensuring a savory addition to the journey's provisions.
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As the aromatic meal is prepared, you find a solitary spot, turning your gaze away from the bustling activity and toward the expansive landscape ahead. The weight of your arranged marriage begins to settle in, a reality that transcends the title of a regular princess. You'll not just be a princess but the crown princess, destined to become the future queen of an empire you've grown up harboring resentment against throughout your life. As Law joins you with a plate of food, you both sit in silence, savoring the meal while taking in the scenery. In a moment of shared understanding, you set down your food and share your thoughts with him. “If this marriage and alliance go south, I’ll make a massacre of the emperor and his son. Take over the empire by force,” you assert, a steely determination in your voice.
Law, without hesitation, responds, “I’m with you on that.”
But then, a shift in tone as you contemplate an alternate scenario. “If things go okay, I’ll be a good queen— well respected and greatly feared” you declare, hinting at the intricate balance you envision for your future rule.  Grinning, you turn to Law, sharing a promise amid the uncertainty. “When I marry the prince, I’ll make you one of their generals. Your swordsmanship and talents deserve recognition,” you declare. Law, caught off guard by the offer, blushes and stammers out a heartfelt thanks. As you finish your food, you get up and head towards the traveling party. With a commanding presence, you stand tall over your maids, a stature inherited from your mother. Communicating your desire for an unforgettable first impression, you guide them in selecting attire that blends regality with practicality, evoking the spirit of a warrior. Among the items retrieved is a wolf fur cape, once worn by your late mother. Its significance adds a layer of strength and legacy to your ensemble. As the maids fumble with the weight of your crown, a chuckle escapes you. With effortless strength, you retrieve the imposing crown, made of iron and copper, placing it firmly on your head.
With the axe holster now secured on your back, you deftly retrieve your formidable axe, the metallic 'shing!' marking its readiness. Suddenly, a distinctive sound interrupts the serene atmosphere – the quick pattering of paws in the distance. Instinctively, you raise a hand, signaling for silence. From the shadows emerges a wolf rider, accompanied by none other than your loyal polar bear dog, Lucie. Filled with exuberance, Lucie hastens her pace, reaching you in a joyful collision, showering you with affectionate licks. The wolf rider dismounts, kneeling before you, and removes their goggles. As recognition dawns upon you, a smile graces your face – it's Sabo, an old friend returned.
—————-
The castle buzzed with anticipation as the news of Princess Y/N's imminent arrival spread like wildfire. The grandeur of the Modora Empire's palace contrasted starkly with the icy realm she came from. Prince Eustass found himself caught in the whirlwind of preparations.
His adviser, a man with an air of urgency, guided Eustass through the halls. "Remember, Prince, this is more than a political move. It's a step towards peace," the adviser said, emphasizing the significance of the occasion. Eustass, cloaked in thoughts of his father's condition, responded with a stoic nod. The maids, skilled in their craft, surrounded him, adjusting the royal armor and draping intricate fabrics. Overheard conversations revealed the excitement of the cleaning maids.
One of them whispered to another, "I heard the princess is as stunning as the snow-capped mountains." Eustass, overhearing, couldn't help but smirk at their animated discussions. In the midst of the primping and preening, Eustass's right-hand man, Killer, lounged nearby, munching on grapes. "You seem thrilled about the impending union, Killer," Eustass remarked, glancing at him. Killer smirked, "Just looking forward to the festivities is all." He tossed a grape into the air and caught it skillfully.
As the maids continued their meticulous work, the adviser stressed the diplomatic implications. "This union will solidify the peace treaty and reshape the geopolitical landscape, your highness." Eustass, in a moment of introspection, muttered to himself, "Political maneuvers... a dance I never fancied." The maids finished their preparations, leaving Eustass adorned in regal attire. He straightened his posture, preparing to meet the princess who would play a pivotal role in the empire's future.
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You swing yourself onto Lucie’s back, her white fur warm beneath you. Sabo, atop his wolf, rides beside you as you resume your journey. Lucie nuzzles against you, a sign of her loyalty.
“So, what did you bring for me?” you ask, curious about the luggage Sabo retrieved. Sabo grins, “Well, let’s say you’ll be delighted. And Lucie here insisted on tagging along. Seems she can’t stay away from her favorite person.” You pat Lucie’s head, appreciating her company. “I’m glad you’re here, Lucie. And Sabo, you’re quite the courier, aren’t you?” Sabo laughs, “I couldn’t let you go without your things. Plus, I wanted to see you off properly.” As the carriages continue their journey, the trio of friends rides alongside, sharing stories and laughter amidst the changing landscapes.
The scent of blooming flowers fills the air, a stark contrast to the crisp, icy fragrance of Nosta. The vibrant colors of the blossoms paint a lively picture against the backdrop of the Modora Empire's more temperate climate. Lucie, sensing your curiosity, sniffs the flowers, her large nose brushing gently against the petals. "Sabo, Law, have you guys ever seen anything like this?" you ask, marveling at the newfound beauty surrounding you. Sabo shakes his head, "Not in the Revolutionary hideouts, that's for sure." Law, a man of few words, simply observes the scenery, appreciating the change in atmosphere. The carriages carrying your belongings and maids move along smoothly, adjusting to the shift in terrain.
As you ride, the landscape transforms from fields of flowers to open meadows, and the sight of grazing animals comes into view. The variety in the empire's flora and fauna is captivating, a testament to the diverse climates that exist within its borders. Lucie continues to amble forward, her fur adapting to the warmer weather. You take a moment to appreciate the newfound warmth, the gentle breeze playing with your hair. The sun casts a golden hue across the landscape, creating a serene atmosphere. It's a stark departure from the harsh winters of Nosta, and you find yourself intrigued by the mysteries that await in this unfamiliar land.
————
The colossal gates of the Modora Empire towered before you, adorned with statues that showcased the empire's might and opulence. The gladiator warriors, sculpted in imposing stances, greeted all who approached with an air of authority. The glistening gold helmets atop the statues hinted at the empire's wealth and grandeur.
Lucie trotted alongside your carriage, the snow wolves pulling it seamlessly through the gate entry. As you entered, the imposing guards, clad in formidable armor, scrutinized your presence. Their intense gazes met yours, but you maintained a stoic demeanor, refusing to be intimidated by their imposing figures.
The carriage rolled deeper into the heart of the empire, the architecture becoming more intricate and sophisticated with every passing moment. The bustling streets, lined with vendors and citizens going about their daily lives, painted a vivid picture of the bustling empire. Despite the grandeur, you couldn't shake a sense of apprehension, wondering how you would navigate the intricacies of a culture so different from your own. The bustling crowd, a mix of intrigue and discontent, pressed against the path as your arrival drew their attention. The diverse and prosperous surroundings hinted at the complexity of the empire. Royal guards formed a protective barrier, clearing a path for you and your entourage toward the palace.
Among the onlookers, children tried to squeeze through the crowd to catch a glimpse, their curiosity evident. However, in the commotion, a young girl got pushed to the ground. Your keen eyes caught the incident, prompting you to halt Lucie and step down. The crowd hesitated, creating a brief pause in their murmurings. Approaching the fallen girl, you crouched down and extended a helping hand. The onlookers watched with a mix of fear and curiosity as the young girl accepted your gesture, saying a sincere "thank you" with a smile. Your reassuring demeanor eased the tension, and with a nod, you returned to Lucie, resuming your journey through the vibrant yet complicated empire.
The steep entry stairs unfold before you, each step revealing more of the grandeur of the palace. The air is charged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty as you ascend, accompanied by Law, your unwavering bodyguard. The intricacies of the palace's architecture become increasingly apparent, from finely crafted pillars to the detailed carvings that adorn its structure. The grandness of the palace leaves an indelible mark on your senses, making your heart race with a combination of awe and trepidation. The clash of emotions intensifies as the reality of meeting your long-standing enemy and future husband, within the confines of your parents and ancestors' historic adversary, sets in. Amidst the grandeur, Law casts a reassuring glance your way. His words, soft but steady, remind you to calm your nerves, assuring you that he stands by your side. 
A posh-looking man, draped in opulent fabrics, extends a courtly greeting as you approach the entrance door. "Your Highness," he says with a bow, "I am honored to be your guide in our imperial palace. I am Lucius, the emperor's adviser." Lucius then gestures gracefully toward the grandeur beyond the entrance. "The Emperor, The Queen Mother, and the Crown Prince are eagerly awaiting your arrival in the throne room. They are keen to meet the esteemed Princess of Nosta." As you nod in acknowledgment, Lucius leads the way into the palace, detailing the architectural wonders that surround you. The halls are a tapestry of influences, blending the grandeur of Greek and Roman styles. Pillars adorned with vibrant vines and exotic plants create an enchanting passage, setting the stage for the grand audience ahead.
While guiding you through the regal expanse, Lucius shares tidbits of information about the palace's history, the imperial family, and the cultural nuances that define the empire. The dialogue flows seamlessly, offering you glimpses into the rich tapestry of the Modora Empire's traditions and grandeur.
Lucius, with a slightly awkward tone, cautions you about the Queen mother's traditional perspectives and her keen observations. "Her Majesty holds certain views close to her heart," he explains. "She may take a particular interest in observing you, so I advise you to be mindful of your actions." As you process this information, Lucius leans in a bit closer, offering an additional warning. "And when you meet the Crown Prince, please refrain from staring into his eyes for too long. It is considered... unconventional. You'll understand once you're inside." Before you can inquire further, the imposing throne room doors swing open, revealing the regal space beyond. Lucius gestures for you to enter, and with a deep breath, you step into the grandeur of the throne room, prepared to face the eyes of the imperial family.
The throne room unfolds before you in a display of grandeur. Nature intertwines with regality as pillars and plants frame the scene, accentuated by a gentle waterfall and stream. At the center, the imposing thrones stand tall—the Queen mother gracing one side, the emperor in the middle, and the crown prince seated on the other. As you step into the room, the Queen mother rises from her seat, a striking figure of elegance despite her age. Adorned in gold jewelry and rings on every finger, she exudes a commanding presence. The emperor, resembling his mother in appearance, acknowledges your arrival with a nod, while the Crown Prince, seated with a composed demeanor, observes quietly. The air is charged with a mix of curiosity and formality as you approach the imperial family.
The Queen mother, adorned in glimmering gold, approaches with an air of authority. You resist the traditional bow, standing tall with your father's crown. The jingle of her jewelry echoes through the room as she inspects you. "Open your mouth," she commands. Reluctantly, you comply. Her fingers delicately touch your jaw, scrutinizing your teeth. The metallic glint of a silver tooth catches her attention. She inquires about it, and you explain the cultural tradition of silver teeth for princesses in your kingdom. The Queen mother, undeterred, reveals that in Modora, royalty can opt for pure gold teeth. The moment carries the weight of cultural contrasts, but you maintain your composure.
As the Queen mother settles into her seat, the emperor initiates conversation with a polite greeting, his imposing presence not lost on you. Your inner conflict intensifies, knowing that your parents perished due to him and his forebears. Inquiring about your journey, the emperor maintains a veneer of courtesy. His gaze shifts to the guards, and with a wave, he dismisses them from the room, even prompting Law's departure, leaving the space private for the impending discussion.
You hold a contemplative expression, your gaze focused on the emperor. "During the journey, I had time to reflect," you begin, the weight of the situation evident in your voice. "While I am not thrilled about this arrangement, I understand the potential benefits for my kingdom. Our people are suffering, and a union could bring about much-needed stability." The emperor listens intently, acknowledging your words with a nod. Before the emperor could speak again, Prince Eustass interjects with a skeptical tone, “Benefits? What benefits could the Nostians possibly offer us, except for plundering our wealth?” You meet Eustass’s gaze, maintaining your composure. “It’s not about taking wealth,” you calmly correct him, “but rather establishing a trade that could provide our people with food and water. The Nosta Kingdom is known for its herbalists and medicinal expertise. In exchange, we seek sustenance for our people. It’s a matter of survival and prosperity through cooperation.”
Eustass grunts in annoyance, averting his gaze as his pride takes a subtle hit. The emperor, discerning the tension, takes the initiative to address the situation. "My sincerest apologies for my son's behavior," he states with a hint of regret. He then shares the unfortunate news of the empress's absence, bedridden due to an ongoing illness. In response, you empathize with the emperor, revealing a shared experience of parental illness. "My parents faced a similar fate," you explain, noting that a cure had been discovered but arrived too late. The room holds a heavy atmosphere, acknowledging the weight of the past.
Feeling the need to express gratitude and respect, you gracefully lower yourself to both knees, hands clasped in your lap, and bow your head. "I am thankful for this alliance," you convey, your words carrying the burdens and hopes of the Nosta kingdom. The emperor listens attentively, and in this shared moment of vulnerability, the foundation for understanding and cooperation is laid. The Queen mother gracefully approaches you, a maternal tone in her voice as she encourages you to rise, addressing you with an almost motherly affection. As you stand, the emperor, seeking to lighten the mood, playfully remarks about not expecting such a formal gesture until the wedding. This comment sparks laughter between the emperor and Queen mother, forming a warm atmosphere in contrast to the looming tension.
However, the jovial moment only fuels Prince Eustass's frustration. He abruptly leaves his throne, storming off and forcefully slamming the grand doors behind him. His anger still lingers, and the impending marriage remains a sore point, evident in the echoes of his disgruntled departure.
The emperor, visibly frustrated by his son's outburst, mutters a curse under his breath. Swiftly, he snaps his fingers, summoning two guards into the room. They approach, asking for the emperor's orders. "Make sure the prince doesn't leave the palace." The guards bow in acknowledgment before promptly leaving to carry out the command. Apologizing once more, the emperor turns his attention back to you. "I apologize for my son's behavior. He's not accustomed to such arrangements. Please understand, Princess."
Suddenly, a wave of uneasiness washes over you and the Queen mother’s now concerned gaze comes to view. “Are you feeling okay, my dear? Any lightheadedness or unusual sensations?” Attempting to respond, you open your mouth, but your voice falters, and nothing comes out. The edges of your vision blur, and an unexpected surge of heat envelops you. In a swift response, the emperor steps forward, his voice carrying urgency, “Her body is struggling to adapt to the empire’s climate!” He calls out for maids, and they hurriedly rush into the room just in time to witness your legs giving way. They swiftly catch you before you completely collapse.
Amid the commotion, the queen mother’s worry deepens, and she issues instructions, “Gently now! take her to a cooler room—Prepare a damp cloth. We need to help her acclimate to our climate!” The maids follow her orders, guiding you out of the room as the emperor watches with a mix of concern and regret on his face.
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©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.
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68 notes · View notes
mcntsee · 11 months
Text
Fragments of her gaze.
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Summary: Left shattered by grief, Kaz struggles to connect with his son until they find solace in each other's presence. (Request from this prompt list)
Warnings: themes of grief, loss, death, and the emotional impact it has on the characters. It also touches on the topics of family dynamics and the process of healing.
Note: Very ooc Kaz. He is comfortable with touch in this story, only loved ones tho.
Kaz Brekker stood by the window of his dimly lit study, his eyes fixed on the bustling streets of Ketterdam below. The city he ruled, the city that had given him power, wealth, and respect. But amidst the shadows that surrounded him, there was one light that had brightened his world—the love he shared with Y/N and their precious son, Gregory.
It had been years since Y/N had entered his life, captivating him with her spirit and wit. She had become his partner in crime, his confidante, and his greatest love. Together, they embarked on daring heists and navigated the treacherous world of Ketterdam, their bond growing stronger with each shared triumph and whispered "I love you."
When Gregory arrived, their lives took on new meaning. He was a beautiful reflection of their love—a mix of Y/N's sparkling eyes and Kaz's determination. From the moment they held him in their arms, their hearts overflowed with a love that knew no bounds.
Days were filled with joy and laughter, as Kaz and Y/N reveled in the simple pleasures of family life. They watched Gregory take his first steps, listened to his contagious laughter, and marveled at his curiosity as he explored the world around him. Every milestone, every precious moment was etched into their hearts, creating a tapestry of love and cherished memories.
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Kaz Brekker, once again, stood by the window of his dimly lit study, his eyes fixed on the bustling streets of Ketterdam below. But as the night swallowed the sun, it also swallowed the last traces of happiness that once resided within him.
It had only been a few months since Y/N's untimely death. It had taken just one fateful night, one deadly mistake, for her to be ripped away from him forever. The memory of that heist still haunted Kaz's every waking moment. Y/N had been his partner in crime and in life, and the pain of losing her was a constant ache in his heart.
Their son, Gregory, had been left shattered by the tragedy. The once vibrant boy now carried the weight of grief upon his young shoulders. Kaz couldn't bear to look into his eyes, so achingly similar to Y/N's, without feeling the weight of their shared loss. It was a pain he knew his son carried as well.
As the door creaked open, Kaz's heart skipped a beat. He knew it was Gregory, despite the silence that hung in the air. The boy had aged beyond his years, his innocence ripped away by the harsh realities of life and death.
"Dad," Gregory's voice quivered, tears glistening in his eyes. "Why won't you look at me? Why won't you talk to me? It feels like you've left me too."
Kaz turned slowly, his eyes filled with his own grief. His voice trembled as he replied, "You have her eyes."
Gregory's tears fell freely, his voice breaking with sorrow. "I'm not her, Dad. I can never replace her, but I'm here, and I need you. I need my father."
Kaz's heart shattered at the anguish in his son's voice. He closed the distance between them, his hands reaching out to embrace Gregory. "You're right. I've been consumed by my pain, but I promise you, I won't ever leave you."
They held each other, tears mingling, the weight of their loss uniting them. In that moment, Kaz realized that he couldn't let his grief isolate him from Gregory. They needed each other to heal and find solace in the darkness.
Days turned into weeks, and their shared grief slowly began to bind them together. Kaz started opening up, sharing stories of Y/N with Gregory, keeping her memory alive. They found solace in each other's presence, understanding that their pain would never truly disappear, but could be faced with love and support.
As Kaz and Gregory walked side by side, their steps in sync, a sliver of hope illuminated their path. It was a long journey towards healing, but they were no longer alone. Together, they would navigate the shadows, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. And in that bittersweet dance of grief and love, they would find the strength to move forward, cherishing the memories of the woman who had brought them together and shaped their lives forever.
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Years had passed since that painful moment when Kaz and Gregory began their journey of healing together. They had weathered the storm of grief, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. Kaz had become a pillar of support and love for Gregory, guiding him through life's trials and triumphs.
Now, as Kaz lay on his deathbed, his breaths becoming shallower with each passing moment, his mind wandered through the memories he had cherished. The years had left their mark on him, etching lines of wisdom and experience onto his face. The city he had once ruled now thrived under a new generation's watchful eyes.
Gregory, now a grown man with a family of his own, sat by his father's side. The roles had reversed, as Gregory became the rock that Kaz had once been for him. Kaz's gaze flickered to his grandchildren, who played at the corner of the room, their laughter filling the air. They were a testament to the resilience of life, a reminder that love and family endured.
"Dad," Gregory's voice was filled with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, for being there even in the darkest of times."
Kaz managed a weak smile, his hand reaching out to grip Gregory's. "You were the light that guided me, Gregory. You showed me the way back from the depths of despair. I couldn't be prouder of the person you've become, and the family you've created."
Gregory's eyes welled with tears, his voice catching with emotion. "I wish Mom could’ve been here to see it all."
Kaz's voice was filled with tenderness as he replied, "She's always been with us, watching over us. She would be proud too, of the love and strength you've shown. Remember, love never truly dies."
As Kaz's final moments approached, his family gathered around him, a circle of love and support. He felt the weight of a life well-lived, despite the pain and losses he had endured. The legacy he would leave behind was not one of power or wealth, but of love, resilience, and the enduring bond between a father and son.
With his last breath, Kaz whispered words of love to his family, their hearts forever etched with his memory. He knew that Gregory would carry on their legacy, passing down the lessons he had learned, and cherishing the gift of family.
And in the years to come, as Gregory watched his own children grow, he would share the stories of their ancestors, of the legendary Kaz and Y/N Brekker, and the love that had transcended time. The circle would continue, the bond of family unbroken, and the spirit of Y/N would forever live on through their love, their laughter, and the strength that Kaz had instilled in them.
In that final moment, as Kaz embraced the unknown, a sense of peace settled over him. He had faced his demons, found redemption, and built a bridge from grief to love. He closed his eyes, knowing that his journey was complete, and a bittersweet smile graced his lips. He could almost feel her presence, the love of his life, waiting for him on the other side. He was ready to be reunited with Y/N, to feel her warmth once more and to share an eternal embrace. As his spirit soared, he whispered his final words, "Wait for me, my love," and surrendered to the gentle embrace of the afterlife, ready to embark on a new chapter of their love story.
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