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luveline · 9 months

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𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time. requested here. fem!reader, 3.7k

cw home invasion, assault, attempted sexual assault, reader is badly hurt/held at gunpoint, please read with care for the content warnings above

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Hotch?" you whisper into the phone, your voice barely audible.

"Who is this?"

Hotch doesn't always look at who's calling at night, he just answers. Bad habit. You curl in on yourself where you're on your knees in the closet, trying not to wheeze breathlessly down the receiver. "Hotch, it's me. I need you to come and help me."

"What's wrong?" He doesn't ask why you're whispering. "Are you at home?"

"There's someone in my apartment."

"You're sure?"

You shift backwards into the embrace of your hanging coats and dresses. It feels as though tens of hands are petting your shoulders, a shiver racing along your spine as a floorboard creaks somewhere in your kitchen.

"I heard them open my door. I don't have my taser, I…" You stop talking when you hear more movement, terrified you'll be discovered. Regret clings to you. How many times has Morgan offered to teach you self defence personally? "I don't know how they got inside."

It doesn't take more than that for Hotch to click into work mode. "Stay on the phone with me. Don't talk. I'm going to put you on hold to call Morgan. I will be ten seconds at most. Don't panic. Don't hang up. If you think you can leave without being seen or heard, leave, but if you can't, don't show him where you are."

The invader's footsteps track to the bedroom. You know at once that your tired mind isn't hallucinating a bad scenario to keep you up —this is real.

You had the hindsight to close your laptop and push it under the bed along with your go-bag, a rucksack full of clothes that you take on cases in different states as part of the BAU. You'd made a quick assessment —your job more than prepared you for this— based on the little information you had. Either the invader knows nothing about you and has assumed you'd be home, or they watch you enough to think you'd be elsewhere. If they think you're here, you're in danger of being assaulted, kidnapped, or murdered. If they think you're away, you're in danger of being robbed. One scenario is a thousand times more preferable than the other.

You can't help but think of the horrible things you've seen. You know intimately what kind of damage one person can do to someone at their mercy.

The hold sound is a quiet droning that freaks you out. If you can hear it, the intruder might be able to, too. Like the low hum of the fridge at night or the bumping of the dyer.

You hang up the phone.

"I know you're here."

Your pulse flies through the roof. It pounds so hard you can feel it everywhere, the tip of your nose, your eyelashes. You look through the dark of your closet and panic in the fullest definition of the word. Your heart can't sustain this for long.

You failed to think of a third possibility. The intruder watches you enough to know you're home. The BAU has a lot of enemies. Anyone could be waiting for you on the other side of the door.

"Come out and I'll be kind," the intruder sing-songs.

You type out a text with shaking hands, your message nearly illegible.

They knowa 8m hjome. Cant talkk dontcall me

Thirty seconds elapse. A reply comes through. You smother the chirp with your chest. It sounds loud as a shot in the relative quiet.

Police dispatch 5mins. I'm 10mins. Morgan 12. I will be there as soon as I can. Protect yourself

That's easy for him to say. You drop your phone in defeat but scramble to pick it up again when you realise it's your best weapon. Or… You crawl to the opposite end of the closet to your shoe rack and slide the shoes apart with honey slow movements, your breath coming in quick, too-loud pants. You never expected to feel this way, you thought you'd know exactly what to do, how to react, but this feels outside of reality.

You brace the long heel of a shoe between your fingers. Your hand is a vice.

In your bedroom, the intruder goads you. "I know you're home, Y/N. There's only so many places for me to look, you know? But if you make me check each one, I'll be unhappy when I find you."

What the fuck? you think. Breaking apart the fear like a knife is anger, a new shot of adrenaline. Who is this guy? You want to spring from the closet and show him how unhappy you are, but your chances of survival improve the longer you can hide. If he has a gun, that's it. You could be dead in the next two minutes. No amount of anger would save you.

You could be dead in the next two minutes.

thank you dpr everything, for being my friend aaron, you text. You know how embarrassing it will be to have said goodbye if nothing bad happens to you, but you also know how haunted Hotch will be if he can't get to you in time. You aren't foolish enough to unravel your feelings for him over text, but you're sentimental enough to think they'd matter to him. He'd want to know.

If things go bad please knoeew that I loved my life and my work and you and the tram more than anything

After a moment, you add, If things don't go bad please nevrr mentiom this

Footsteps at the closet door. A pause that feels gargantuan, the silence so heavy it threatens to snap the floorboards beneath your knees.

"Found you."

You leap up and throw yourself at the closet door as hard as you can, gasping when it swings on the hinges and clips your opposition in the leg. You don't think, you don't look at his face, you simply drive the point of your shoe into his collar.

He gasps. Something hard and rigid whips upward, your neck snapping to one side as the skin of your cheek splits, gunmetal glancing off of bone. You drop down onto your ass, half out of necessity and half to get away from the pain. You can't outrun it, nor can you escape the forthcoming assault, grunting in shock as the bottom of the gun comes down atop your head. It was likely meant to incapacitate you, but all it does is hurt.

You flip onto your front, stagger onto your hands and knees, and launch yourself up through the bedroom doorway. You only have to get away.

He sweeps your legs from under you barely ten feet down the hall.

You fall. Your knees hit the hallway slats and your face follows, the nerve endings in your teeth ringing one by one and your eyes tearing up as your nose makes a huge thwacking sound. Gasping, you rush to cover your face though the damage is done. Your gasp turns to a sob, hands quickly wetted by blood.

"Stupid bitch," he hisses.

You crawl into the kitchen. He steps on the back of your thigh.

"I have a G43 pointed straight at the back of your fucking head."

"Good for you?" you say, eyes squeezed closed.

You whimper as he grinds his foot into your leg.

"Don't think I won't use it when I'm done with you."

You shake your head from side to side. That can't be what he's here for.

You should ask him what he wants, or threaten him with the approaching police sirens. You should've tried to climb out of your fire escape. You should've set the door alarm as soon as you came home, but you're just so fucking tired lately you must've forgot. Everything feels like a chore. Right now, you're exhausted.

"What are you going to do?" he asks you.

You won't negotiate. You don't answer.

Forceful, no time to protect yourself, he kicks you in the side of the face. It hurts worse than the fall, that shattering pain like a firework under your skin. You struggle to keep your mouth shut, hoping that your whining cry is less audible to him than it is to you, scrambling backward toward the cabinets. You're defeated. Maybe you deserve it, for it to happen so easily. Three minutes and you're down.

"I asked you what are you going to do, Agent?"

"What am I supposed to say?" you ask. Even to your own ears, you sound pathetic.

"Whatever I want you to. Now get up, honey." You cringe. "Unless you want to stay on the floor like a dog?"

"Don't call me that," you say, wincing at the grinding sensation of your jaw.

"What, a dog? Or… honey?" His tone is smug. "I thought you'd like that. It's what your boss calls you, isn't it? Late at night when he drops you off. Not strictly professional."

You groan and turn onto your side. The police sirens are getting close. You live in a busy place near a main road, the sirens could be for anybody, but you need them to be for you.

"Get up, honey. You can pretend I'm him, if you like. I'll make it easy on you. I can be nice."

You deliberate. Do as he says, or risk further agitation. Do what he says. Live to see the end of the night.

Or drag it out. Give Hotch enough time to get here.

"You'll pretend to be him?" you ask, sniffing. You can't tell if you're crying or there's blood on your face.

"Aw. To begin with, sure."

You sit up. For the first time, you look your attacker in the face. It's difficult to tear your eyes from the barrel, but you do. He has a cruel face, as tall and formidable as Hotch is but with none of his lightness. You put on your softest expression, gazing at him through tears. When you speak, the fear is real, even if you're attempting a facade. "You'll be gentle?"

"No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?" His lip curls in disgust.

"I don't know," you mumble, looking down at the floor. "You said you'd be nice."

"We both know you don't like nice."

"I do," you say, finding your footing in the charade, the sorry victim, whatever he needs you to be for now. You hate giving him anything, but you know in the moment that you'll do what you need to do to save yourself from injury. "I haven't… I haven't done stuff in a long time, I can't just rush into things."

The gun makes a quiet clicking sound as he points it with more fervour. "Like I believe that. You're probably fucking Hotchner on the side."

There, that jealousy. He's been watching you, he knows where you live, what you want, and he's still convinced that you're fucking Hotch. It's not logical.

You cling to the threads, trying to pull apart his composure. You'd assumed him an anger-excitation rapist, unafraid to hurt you as he already has, but now you're thinking something else.

"You think I'm sleeping with my boss? Why?"

"Besides your constant need to be touching him? It's disgusting, you throw yourself at someone who doesn't want you. You're pathetic. I can make you better."

You see movement in the corner of your vision. Dark hair, a stony expression. Hotch stands at the precipice of the kitchen in a bulletproof vest, a finger to his lips. Sh.

Your relief knocks a breath out of you. The invader takes it for pain at being read.

"Look," he says, softer. Not genuine softness, but practised. As soon as you give in, he'll drop it. You're both acting for one another, but only one of you is a profiler. "You'll forget all about Agent Hotchner once we're done. So just get up."

You hold out your hand. His eyes light up with malice as he leans down to take it, his gun finally aimed away from your face.

Hotch moves in.

"Drop the weapon."

Your attacker whirls. Hotch doesn't hesitate. Front sight, controlled trigger press, follow through. A bang like a clap of thunder fills the room.

You flinch down into yourself. Everything goes a little white for a while, people running into the room, a gun skittling across your kitchen tile. Your ears ring from the bang of two bullets and you're sure you've been hit, you're hurting so much, but hands squeeze under your arms to tell you otherwise.

"You're okay," Hotch says, knee against your thigh, face ducked down to meet your eyes. "Hey, can you hear me?"

You shake your head. You can hear him, but you're far from okay. Hotch bites commands over his shoulder, holding your waist in his hands like he's worried you'll slip out of them. Tight. Too tight. You suck in as big a breath as you can manage and choke on it, coughing, the wild sting of your wounds a ringer.

"You did so well," he says as he catalogues your injuries, his frown deepening. He tilts your head up to the light.

"I knew you were on your way," you deflect.

"You were talking him down."

"No, I was surrendering."

"You didn't give in until you saw me. You weren't surrendering."

"But I would have," you whisper, closing your eyes.

"Doing what you need to to survive isn't easy. But you do it."

You hang your head.

—

Hotch winces at the sound of your skin being sewn closed. Morgan sits beside you in the back of the ambulance holding your hand, your fingers twitching between his with every tug. They dosed you and applied a general anaesthesia, but the pain is pervasive. His eyes keep moving back to your hand in Morgan's. He isn't jealous —he's annoyed with himself. Hotch should be the one holding your hand.

He should've hugged you. The absence of it feels awkward between you, though he's positive that that's the last thing you're thinking of right now.

"Will you have to set her nose?" Morgan asks.

The paramedic shakes his head. "Not broken. Just very badly bruised. Even the bone."

"That doesn't need a cast?"

Hotch should hold your hand, should hug you, should be organising the scene. Should, should, should. The only thing he's managed to do since he incapacitated your stranger is watch you for signs of life.

You're despondent. In shock, no doubt. You let your friends pass you from place to place with little more than pained sighs for input.

JJ does an excellent job of surveying the goings on, while Rossi and Reid take care of some of the bigger questions: who is this guy, what did he want, and how did it come to happen?

What did he want? Hotch can guess. Rage collects like the heart of a furnace, a molten cup of steel in his throat as what he heard you say plays over and over in his head.

You'll be gentle?

No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?

He'll never forget the way you sounded asking that question. Terrified, begging for a scrap of mercy.

Emily approaches from behind. "We have a name." Hotch tips his head to show he's listening. "Paulo Danvers. He was part of a crew that installed her security parameters a few months ago. He was vetted. This shouldn't have happened."

"No, it shouldn't have." Hotch lowers his tone, "She said she wasn't sure she set the lock."

"It wouldn't have mattered. He disengaged it from the outside." Emily takes a few steps closer to the ambulance. "Hey. Morgan taking care of you?"

"Don't I always?" Morgan asks, clapping your arm gently.

You don't answer.

"What, you're not talking to me?" Emily asks. She's not mad, the opposite. Concern lines her eyes, thin brows pinching together at the starts, though she does her best to smile through it.

"I don't feel well," you say quietly.

"Yeah? You're not squeamish, are you?"

"Don't think so."

"It's shock," says the paramedic.

"What's your pain like?" Hotch asks. He's the only person you'll give a straight answer to. "Bad?"

"Yeah." Your hand is lax in Morgan's.

"I can give you slow release tramadol to last the night or codeine pretty much immediately. It's up to you. And I'm really not comfortable with releasing you without next of kin. Do you have family in the area?"

You shake your head. "It's just Hotch. Agent Hotchner," you correct yourself, nodding at him.

"You're her partner?" the paramedic asks. He can sense the disapproval.

"Her boss."

"Not her partner?"

"He's my closest friend," you say.

He's never heard you say that before, but it's true.

"I wish you were my boss," the paramedic jokes, turning back to her supplies as she peels off her gloves. "Maybe I'd get better sick pay."

You're given slow release tramadol and officially pronounced to be on the mend. If he didn't have an FBI badge, you'd be spending the night on a ward. He'd prefer if you did, but you clearly don't want to be somewhere alone right now, and he just wants to give you what you want after having your choices held over your head.

He's not offended when Emily asks if you'd prefer to stay with her. It's harrowing what might have happened to you had you not heard the initial break in, and the perpetrator would've been a man like Hotch. Tall, white, dark-haired. He wouldn't blame you for needing space from him to feel safe tonight, but he's relieved when you turn her down.

"You don't have to act like something happened to me," you say.

Hotch clicks down the locks of his car and turns on the overhead light. You squirm in the passenger seat, looking wrecked. Your chin is split, your nose a dark purple mess cut by white splint. You have a cut on your cheek and another just above your eye.

"You don't think something happened?" he asks, hands on his legs. He can tell you wish he would start the car and take you home without pressing.

"No, I know, I look awful, but he didn't do anything to me." Why is it so hard to say what it could have been? "You don't have to act like I'm gonna wig if you touch me."

"You won't mind if I hug you?" he asks.

"No. No, I want you to."

It's thankfully a short gap to cover as Hotch leans over the console. He's careful of your face and still you mumble a tired, "Ouch," in his ear.

He rubs your back, slow and soft. "You okay?" he asks.

You don't answer for a while. It doesn't matter, Hotch'll sit here in his parked car for hours if you want him to, hands on your hunched back. Your face hides away. He can feel and hear your distress building, and he wants you to cry if you need to, but it'll hurt.

"Sh," he hushes you gently, "it's okay."

"I'm fine." You sound welled up.

"Someone broke into your home and held you at gunpoint. You don't have to be fine."

"Yeah, I do. It's my job."

"No, that's not your job," he says, closing his eyes. "This has nothing to do with your job. This is about something bad happening to you. Don't put walls up now. It won't work, it never does."

He tries to back away in case you're overwhelmed.

"Wait," you say, your panic like a cough.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says.

You sniffle, nodding into his chest. Hotch has comforted a hundred victims of violent assault. He's held the faces of women he didn't know hoping to give them something solid to lean on. But it's different with you, because you and Hotch aren't simply friends. There's a deeper vein of affection, and tonight's event is a jagged slash against it, bringing every unbidden feeling he has for you to the surface. He can't get how scared you sounded out of his head. He knows that feeling is still there.

"How did you get here so fast?" you asked.

"I took the side road. And went unavoidably fast."

You make a small, small sound. He's known you for long enough to understand what it demarcates, unsurprised when the trembling of your shoulders turns to pained shaking. Hotch holds you delicately. He's done so much in his life, made a thousand and one mistakes, used a heavy hand when he could've been sweeter. He's determined to get this part right.

"I'm with you now," he says. "I'm sorry I couldn't–" This is harder than he imagined. He presses on. "Couldn't protect you from the start."

"You know why I called you?" you ask, your tone similarly soft.

Hotch doesn't bother answering. The answer is unsaid, loudly heard.

"I knew you'd come," you finish.

He puts a hand on your neck to encourage you into place, kissing the side of your head. Hotch will always come when you call.

That night, you ask to sleep in his room. I'll sleep on the floor, just don't want to be alone. You're in ragtag clothes he'd scraped together for you, and after helping you wash the blood from your hair and face, you're even more impossible to say no to than usual, looking small in a way you haven't before. Hotch sets you up in bed next to him and wonders if he'll ever sleep next to someone he hasn't let down.

You put that notion straight in your sleep. Hotch lays awake sick with the idea that he's failed you, and you, frowning, snoring, covered in cuts, curl into his side. You cling to his arm so hard he's certain you're awake at first, a bouquet of bruises painted across your cheek.

Hotch pulls the blanket up over your shoulder, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead.

He whispers your name, not sure what he'd say if you answered.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed♡ I haven't written long form (ish) for Hotch in a while so I'm nervous but I hope it's good!! let me know also if you'd like a second part cos usually I don't feel like there's much left to tell but for this one the could actually confess :o

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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buckys-wintersoldier · 3 months

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“Fuck me.” | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary -> Bucky always tries to decide about the guys you go out with, and when you tell him to fuck you in an argument he doesn’t hesitate to do what you want him to do.

Warnings -> Minors DNI, 18+, smut, oral (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), chocking, bit of size kink, jealous/ possessive!Bucky, teasing, slight degradation, using the word slut

Wordcount -> 2.4k

Request -> 1. Enemies to lovers 2. Jealous Bucky 3. Possibly a combination of 2, 3, 10, & 12 or just any of the ones selected @sadisticlyme

A/N -> Thank you so much for that request, I hope you like what I made with it. My requests are open, you can also request for the “Bucky Barnes Smut Menu” or my “1-Followers Special” (you can join that if you want to) Divider made by @firefly-graphics. Also thank you to @sergeantbarnessdoll for helping me to find those pictures.

Prompt -> Bingo of your own | I3 | Free Space | @thebo3bingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Smut Menu | Bingo of your own | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“Fuck me,” you shout through the room.

You’re staring at Bucky; your jaw clenches and your hands are into fists. You hate the way he acts around you, like he could decide about the boys you hang out with.

Not really sure why you told him to fuck you instead of telling him to fuck himself, you run your fingers through your hair and wipe a strand out of your face.

Bucky chuckles sarcastically and walks a few steps closer. You’re in front of the kitchen counter, and he walks until he reaches the kitchen island, which is opposite you.

“I would love to,” he says and smirks at you, his hands resting on his hips, and he leans his upper body forward. “Wanna go into my room and let’s have some fun, doll?"

Your eyes widen when you hear those words leave his lips. The brown-haired man is just a few inches away from you, and he walks closer, coming to a halt when there is only space for a piece of paper between your bodies. Bucky towers over you, his hands finding their places on the kitchen counter behind you.

“Do you want me to stop, or are you already dripping for me?” Bucky mumbles into your ear, his breath warm against your neck, and you shiver slightly.

Of course you’re wet; his body is against yours, and the way he is talking to you can only lead to soaked panties. But you would never admit this to him; otherwise, he would probably fuck you right there and then, and he would win the discussion about the guys you always meet, which aren’t as good as him. And he is right, but you hate him for trying to get away from every guy you like, so you don’t let him push his dick inside of your already wet pussy yet.

“What’s going on here?” Steve suddenly asks, and Bucky walks a step backwards, turning around to his best friend.

“She thought it was funny to joke around,” Bucky says, shrugging, but you know he is smirking mischievously.

Then he turns back to you and walks a step closer again. His hips thrust forward, and you feel his growing member in his pants. He presses his dick against your leg, making you gasp quietly.

“Right, doll?” he asks, but you’re too much in your thoughts to respond to his question. Bucky grabs your chin and tilts your head, so you have to look into his steel blue eyes. “Joking around, huh?” he repeats.

You nod and try to turn your head away. The intense stare feels like he is looking into your souls, like he would find out that you’re unnaturally wet because of him.

You breathe shakily, trying to get your thoughts of his hand on your body under control. You can’t help but feel the arousal between your legs growing, soaking your panties completely. You hate Bucky so much; he is always so flirty with everything but tries to control the people you go out with. But on the other side, his jealous and possessive side turns you on beyond belief, which doesn’t help your wet cunt.

But as well as his way of controlling the guys, you always have those annoying arguments. He is jealous of everyone and tells you things about the guys you don’t want to know before your first date with them. Or it’s because he tries to get you angry; sometimes you feel like he loves to see you being mad at him; he always smiles and pushes you until you shout at him. And mostly you’re wet then, turned on by the way he talks to you and acts or touches you.

Bucky turns back to his best friend. His hand touches your body softly, and you feel the goosebumps appearing on your skin. Then you finally find some words to show him how angry you are because he thinks you’re joking around.

“Joking around? You fucking annoy me,” you growl. He laughs in response, and you can’t stop yourself from getting more angry.

Sometimes you really don’t get the way you’re angry and needy because of him at the same time. It’s like you're mad at him, but your pussy knows you want him. The imagination of his dick sliding through your folds until he pushes inside of you and fucks your rough is always in your mind when the two of you have an argument.

When he is standing next to Steve, he faces you. The smirk on his lips says he knows about your little problem between your legs.

“Bet you’re dripping because of me. Your little pussy wants my attention, starving for my touch and especially with my dick between those tight walls. You’re a little slut, my little slut, but you try to deny that. Trying to fuck yourself with your fingers, trying to get what I can give you,” Bucky says, and you immediately blush, looking down at your hands.

Steve’s eyes widen when he looks from his best friend to you. You swallow hard and press your thighs together, trying to stop the arousal between your legs. But the way Bucky talks to you, the way he is acting like he didn’t say he would love to fuck you, let your cunt drip even more.

“Bucky,” Steve mumbles into Bucky’s direction and punches his best friend softly.

“What? Can’t a man have a bit of fun?” he asks, rolling his eyes, annoyed.

Steve sighs, looking at you, then at Bucky, before he turns around and walks out of the room. He definitely needs some training after Bucky tried to get you into bed and said filthy things. Bucky leans with his back against the wall, still smirking at you.

“Need some help, or do you think your little fingers are enough for your pussy? Mhm? Do you want mine, I bet you can’t take them,” Bucky says.

You groan, annoyed. You’re not sure if you want to leave the room and go back to your room to give yourself some pleasure or if you want to cook something. You feel Bucky's eyes roaming over your body; his stare lets you shiver.

“You think you can do better than my fingers? Not even a bit,” you tell Bucky, deciding to go into your room.

Bucky laughs, tilting his head slightly. You both know that your fingers are not as good as his, not depending on his skills, but his fingers are bigger, like he is.

“I think they are, yes. The women underneath me always screamed my name when they squirted all over me,” Bucky says, pushing himself up.

He is like a tiger who catches his prey with the way he looks at you, but it’s enough for you to feel smaller than you’re when you’re around him.

“I would prefer to call one of my dates instead of letting you fuck me,” you say through clenched teeth.

You don’t prefer that, but your little game is just too funny to stop the teasing. You see Bucky's jaw clenching; he furrows before he starts laughing.

“Oke, fuck them, but you’re thinking of me, aren’t you?”

You look for your phone, tap something on it, and put on the loudspeaker. It doesn’t take long for the guy to pick up your call.

“Hey, do you have time? I would like to meet you today,” you say, looking directly into Bucky's eyes.

“Of course, do you have condoms, or do we need some?” he asks, and you hear the anticipation in his voice.

“I have some here,” you tell him.

Before the other guy can say something, Bucky rushes over to you, his hand gripping yours with the phone, and you turn your phone towards him.

“She doesn’t have time for you. She is mine, and you better don’t get too close to her again, understand?” Bucky says it angrily.

Your date mumbles something in confusion, but before he can say something, Bucky hangs up and takes your phone to place it on the kitchen counter.

“You pushed the limits,” he groans, his hand finding your hips, and he pulls you closer.

You gasp, placing your hands on his big biceps. He smiles when he sees your small hands wrapped around his big arms. Your little body in front of him and the way his hands capture your hips with his large fingers.

“Do you want me to stop?” Bucky asks, his hands sliding your sides up and down.

“No, please. I need you,” you mumble under his intense stare.

He smiles and lifts you up before he turns around and places you on the kitchen counter behind you. His eyes wander down your body until he reaches your covered cunt, which is pressing against his growing member.

“Mhm, won’t fit properly. It’s too huge for your little pussy, isn’t it? You can’t even take my fingers; you're so small,” Bucky says with a smile.

He adores the way you look so small in front of him and especially underneath him. His hand slides over your stomach, slowly underneath your t-shirt, and he shoves it higher to expose your belly.

Then he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants and shoves them together with your panties down. Bucky takes a step back and throws them next to him on the floor. His eyes are immediately on your dripping cunt, and the smirk on his lips grows.

“You’re dripping,” he says, his hands sliding along your thighs and up to your cunt.

His hands are soft, and even when one of them is out of vibranium and it’s cooler, you like his touches on your soft skin. Bucky spreads your legs and kneels down, inching closer until you feel his breath against your bare pussy.

“Bucky, please,” you mumble, arching your back.

“What do you want me to do, doll?” he asks, kissing along your thighs.

“Fuck me, please.”

Bucky chuckles and slides two of his fingers through your wet folds. He looks at them, licking your slick off of them, before he lowers his head and kisses your wet pussy.

You moan, gripping his hair to push him further against you. Bucky's tongue glides through your folds until he reaches your entrance. He teases you, kissing along your thighs once more before he kisses your pussy again and pushes his tongue into you.

“Fuck, this feels so good,” you moan, arching your back and placing your legs on each side of his head on his shoulders.

You press your legs together and Bucky more into your cunt; his skills are way better than you thought, and you feel something in your stomach growing, a feeling that is way more pleasurable than ever before. Bucky feels you clenching around his tongue, and he lets go of you.

“Please, I was so close,” you whimper, sliding one of your hands between your legs to bring you over the edge, but he stops you and pushes your hands away.

“Don’t touch yourself when I don’t tell you to do it. And don’t dare to cum before I allow you to cum,” he groans.

He lowers his head and neck between your legs, letting his tongue play with your clit and dipping inside of you before you almost reach your orgasm again. Then he lets go of you and stands up.

You’re just a moaning mess underneath him, and his dick is rock-hard, but he wants to show you what he can give you with just his fingers and his tongue. So he leans over you, admiring your small body again, before his hand wraps around your neck, squeezing slightly.

“You look so pretty,” he tells you, leaning closer to kiss your lips softly.

“I will look prettier when I cum, so fuck me,” you say, pouting.

“I really need to fuck that attitude out of you, but before I do, I will give you my fingers to cum over them,” Bucky says with a smile.

His fingers trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. Bucky slowly slides them between your solder, covering them in your slick, before he reaches your entrance and circles it. You push your hips more against his hand, causing his hand around your throat to tighten a bit.

“Please, Bucky,” you whimper.

Bucky does what you want; he pushes one of his fingers inside of you. He groans when your tight walls immediately clench around his big finger.

“My needy little slut, soaking but so fucking tight.”

You moan when he adds a finger and moves them deeper inside of you, curling them before pulling them out of you. Bucky looks into your eyes when he pushes his fingers back into you and hits your sweet spot. Your eyes roll back, and you arch your back. Your hands grip his arm around your throat, and you squeeze it.

“There you are,” he mumbles, and he finds the spot inside of you again.

Bucky pushes his fingers with every thrust against that point. You breathe heavily, feeling your orgasm growing in your stomach.

“Please, please let me cum,” you whimper, clenching around his fingers and moving your hips against him.

“Cum, doll. Cum all over my fingers,” he demands.

You moan, his fingers hitting all the right spots inside of you. He pushes his fingers deeper inside of you, thrusting them faster.

“Cum, now,” he repeats, and you do.

You cum all over his fingers; you’re squirting. His name leaves your lips when you make a mess all over his fingers and his shirt. Bucky towers still over you, smirking about the way your eyes roll back, your moans leave your lips, and the way you arch your back when you cum. He loves it, and he definitely fucks you until you squeeze his dick and let him pump you full with his seeds. Bucky fucks you through your orgasm before he pulls his hand out of your pussy and sucks his fingers clean.

“You made a mess all over me, doll. But you taste good,” Bucky smirks, leaning closer to capture your lips with his. “You still think your little fingers are better than mine?"

You shake your head. Bucky removes his hand from your throat, and he helps you sit up on the kitchen counter. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Yours are way better,” you smirk. “But stop being mean when I have a date.”

“I’m not mean anymore, because you're mine now,” he tells you, picking you up before he walks out of the kitchen and into his bedroom.

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m-ayo-o · 8 months

Text

first

18+ best friend Megumi x reader wc 1100 things got a bit out of hand... selfshiptember; 12 // first kiss

The idea of giving away your first kiss is a daunting one. You feel anxious and pressured about it, your peers already well ahead of the game. And at eighteen, sure, it’s ok if they want to have all the freaky sexual experiences you wish they didn’t tell you about. But for you, that kind of thing has never come easy.

You get so hung up on the feelings in any possible romantic relationship, dawdling around wondering if they like you for the right reasons, only for them to become impatient, put off by your timid nature.

And sure, some of your friends tease you for it, but that’s just how you are.

But there’s one friend, your best friend, who never speaks on the matter. In fact, over time you realise he’s never spilled a single detail of his own intimate experiences. And that’s got you curious.

“Megumi,” you peer over at him from your desk after finishing another study session, “how was your… first kiss?”

He’s lying comfortably on your bed, his dark eyes pulled from his book, staring at you before he shakes his head, “haven’t had it.”

“Oh”

He knows you’ve been worried about it recently, getting hung up on what all your friends are telling you.

“You shouldn’t compare yourself to others”

“Yeah, but,” you feel a bit shy admitting this, “it’s not like I don’t want to, it’s just hard to find that…”

“Connection?”

“Mm” you smile, feeling comforted by his understanding. But it’s always like that with him. If nobody else gets you, it doesn’t matter. You know he will.

There’s a long pause, Megumi’s eyes dropping down to his book again.

“Do you think we–” he stops, frowning slightly that his words aren’t coming out, “do you think we might have… a connection?”

You jump at the sudden unfamiliar tingle that surges through your stomach and chest, making its way to your cheeks. It took you off guard, but that felt nice.

And, of course, you’re close, you support and appreciate each other as best friends do. How could you not feel connected to such a person?

“Mhm” you give him a little nod.

“So… what about me?” he asks, hesitation fading as he notices that pretty blush on your face.

You tilt your head to the side, “hm?”

“Why don’t you kiss me?”

The end of his question leaves a stifling silence in the air, like the calm before the storm.

And before you know it, you’re standing from your desk chair and kneeling next to him on your bed, like he’s pulling you in with invisible rope.

His hands are releasing his book, instead finding your shirt and the back of your neck, squeezing and tugging you closer.

He leans up, your lips drawn together, so close you can feel his breath.

Leaving you no time to overthink, he grabs you and seals your lips with his.

“mmf–” your voice is muffled by his sudden contact.

His lips are soft and hot, all of your senses overwhelmed by him.

And he pulls you closer still, his hand working into your hair.

You feel his mouth open a fraction, his tongue gently sliding over your lip. Your body reacts before you can think, opening for him, feeling his tongue with your own.

The kiss gets feverish, your breathing becoming erratic, mouths opening wider to taste each other eagerly.

Then you feel his teeth.

The impact of his first bite makes you shake.

But the second time, once he realises you liked it, when he’s pulling away with your bottom lip between his incisors, has you whimpering.

“You like that?”

Fuck. Since when did Megumi talk like that?

You nod.

So he does it again and again, kissing and biting and sucking till he’s pulling you onto his lap with your legs spread.

You realise when he’s ripping your shirt off and your hands are tugging at his belt, that you both may need more than a kiss.

You get greedy, that little bit more turning into him unzipping his jeans, his cock slipping out.

Instinct takes over when he pulls your naked body onto him, over him.

He eases in, so gentle, leaving you lightheaded, fucking you with his tip, then half his length, until you’re sitting on him, taking him all.

And he ruts up into you on his lap, thrusting as hard and fast as his body will let him, grabbing at your hips.

You’re so desperate to tell him how good he’s making you feel– you want to praise him with all the pretty words you can think of.

But you can’t.

Because your best friend is fucking the breath right out of your lungs.

He’s just so deep and hard that he’s leaving you feeling choked.

Despite this, your lips part, intent on forming a sentence.

You take in a few ragged breaths, little vocalisations sounding on every exhale.

To your dismay and confusion, the words die in your throat. All you’re left with is–

“M-Megumi–”

And it’s ruining him.

Those beautiful, strangled whimpers are driving him insane.

He gives you a mixed look– it feels like anger, maybe pain.

He’s staring at your lips, the way they move and form his name.

If he hears it one more time he might do something hopelessly romantic. Like tell you he loves you, or ask you to be only his.

So he grips your neck and takes your lips in a desperate kiss, committed to silencing you with his tongue.

It’s intense and wet and hot, his cock digging into you deeper and harder than before.

Until his restless pumping gets you feeling something so pure and primal, you can only follow the rush, helplessly craving release.

And you know he feels the same, recognising the look in his eyes, not as anger or pain, but passion.

Now he can’t help it, he can’t hold it back anymore. That maddening thought in his head, the feeling in his chest, it just has to come out–

“I love you”

The deep tones of his voice, those three words, the unabated drag of his cock, all have you spiralling into your dizzying high.

“I love you too, Megumi” your whimpered reply leaves his hips stuttering, cock pulsing suddenly, shock and confusion crossing his face when he feels his hot load spilling into you.

“Fuck– fuck, I can’t– can’t stop–” he all but cries, pumping and filling you thoroughly, wondering how he could feel so full and empty at the same time.

“I, I didn’t– couldn’t– mmh–” you silence his apologetic stammering with a sweet kiss, watching his every feature become relaxed.

You hold each other, your lips moving slow and steady as you both sigh, coming down.

“How was your… first kiss?” you utter over his lips, earning a relieved smile.

[use protection omg]

selfshiptember 12!!

megumi m.list

likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! <3

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #female reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #18+ content #megumi jujutsu kaisen #jjk megumi #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #selfshiptember 2023 #selfshiptember #self shipping

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star-girl69 · 2 months

Text

American Teenager

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: you get caught in the crossfire of clarisse’s anger, and have to convince clarisse you love every part of her.

a/n: i took over a year off, cut you bitches some slack…… TELL A FRIEND TO TELL A FRIEND… SHE’S BAAAAAACKKKK!!!!!!!!!

for those who do not know, i changed my theme. yes it is me. do you like it 😀

American Teenager - Ethel Cain

warnings: NOT BETA READ!!!, ending sucks yet again but i cant be bothered, y/n gets PUNCHED!!!!!!, creepy men, violence, very sad clarisse, IT IS VERY HARD FOR HER TO TALK ABOUT HER FEELINGS BUT SHE TRIES, swearing, usual demigod stuff, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse is angry.

She has been angry all of her life, you know that. She was born with a fire in her veins that came straight from her godly father, potent and rolling around inside of her like a storm, a rabid dog biting at a cage, and nurtured over the years by a stern mother.

Clarisse was a recipe for destruction, for pain, for suffering. That’s what most people thought she was. They all thought she was her father’s daughter- full of fire, and she would never be anything else except the mean bully all the campers had grown to somewhat resent.

But she was more than that. She was your girl, she was everything you wanted and had prayed for years for. You knew she was angry, you knew she carried regret in her heart, you knew she ate up anything nice inside of her long ago.

But you didn’t care.

You gave her some of your own softness, your own nicety, drew it out of her with soft touches and sweet words, until she learned to love you and believed that she was the girl you always saw hidden inside.

Clarisse is angry.

You know that, you know the harsh girl you fell in love with, and you know the sweet girl she really is.

So, it’s no surprise to you that Clarisse has spent the entire afternoon glued to your side, glaring at anyone who walks by- but particularly her brother, Caden.

Caden has some sort of inferiority complex coupled with extreme sexism. He couldn’t stand the fact Clarisse was better than him, that she was the camp counselor instead of him. She had received her beloved spear from their father, he had no gifts to show.

Somewhere in his fucked up head he realized he couldn’t force his father to notice him, couldn’t uproot Clarisse from her counselor position, and though the next best thing was to go after you.

It started with glances that lasted too long, then subtle touches during camp activities, then actively flirting with you when Clarisse wasn’t around.

The only reason Caden had been allowed to this for this long was because you didn’t want to tell Clarisse and be responsible for what could very possibly be Caden’s death. You felt dirty, having his hands on you, barely-hidden sexual remarks whispered in your ear, his eyes on you- practically undressing you.

Clarisse would kill him if she knows what he’s done, how it makes you feel. And you really don’t want blood on your hands, so you avoid him as much as possible and attach yourself to Clarisse.

It’s a rare afternoon that you both have free, and it’s snatched with greedy hands and stretched out long like molasses, the two of you move slow and leisurely, try to sink into this time together.

You promised your sister you would help with the arts and crafts class she runs, spewing something about how you’re the best at making friendships bracelets- but really, her usual partner is on a quest and taking care of the rowdy 12 year olds is not an individual task.

So, here you are, sitting at a picnic table and making sample bracelets, feeling the sun on your face and Clarisse’s arms around you. She sits sideways, her front pressed against your side, straddling the bench. She watches the way the sun hits your face, the way your fingers move swiftly as you continue to bead and tie together.

There’s been this pit in your stomach since Caden started his advances- like a new organ had formed inside of you, pure black instead of a usual pink flesh. A physical form of all your guilt and disgust, filled with the dirt like you felt like.

It’s still there, even through the gaps of hot sunlight, the cooling shade of the tree above, but it’s easier to ignore when Clarisse is there. It’s easier to ignore, but it’s still there.

“I don’t understand how you’re so good at those,” Clarisse mumbles. She kisses your shoulder and you dig your feet into the dirt, smiling to yourself.

“I don’t either,” you smile. “What can I say? I’m the queen of friendship bracelets.”

“Ha,” she says, somewhat sarcastically, but you can hear the fond, loving smile in her voice. “How much longer?” she asks.

“Two more. Maybe 10 more minutes?”

“Okay,” she hums, drawing out the word. “Wanna get somethin’ to eat after this?”

“Yeah,” you say, looking away from the bracelets for just a second- to admire her like she gets to admire you.

“Nah, nah, you better finish those bracelets so I can have all your attention on me again.” She presses her face against yours, pushing you to face forward again and focus.

She departs with a kiss to corner of your lips, and you wonder if you really need all six example bracelets, but you know your sister would kill you if you didn’t show up tomorrow with six. You sigh and turn back to your bracelets, listening to the sweet sound of Clarisse laughing.

“Okay,” she says, leaning closer to you after a minute. “I’ll be back in a few, okay? I’m just gonna go change into shorts.”

“Okay,” you smile, and she squeezes your waist as she stands up. The feeling inside of you sinks in even more, the blackness in your stomach, but you focus on the feeling of the sun and her promise that she’ll come back soon.

“First time I’ve seen you alone in weeks.”

Your stomach sinks.

You’re a demigod and you deal with monsters and the whims of gods daily- but there’s something about humans, about demigods that makes you especially scared.

A step below a God, filled with resentment and blessed with superhuman abilities.

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt fear like this.

You glance up at him, quickly gathering all your bracelet supplies, shoving it into the pockets of your jeans without much care.

You force a smile, pretend like nothing’s wrong.

“Sorry,” you say. “I’m just leaving. Nice seeing you, Caden!”

“Why you leavin’ so quick, baby?”

“Meeting Clarisse,” you smile through gritted teeth.

“Well, I just saw my sister walk away so… are you lying to me, Y/N?” he laughs slightly, almost as if the idea of you not being completely observing of his will is unheard of, laughable.

“Yeah, I was just finishing up.” You shove a pile of beads into your pocket, moving for the next one-

His hand covers yours.

“You don’t look done. Sit down, huh?”

You glance around the courtyard, not even bothering to hide your fear like you were taught- at the sight of him, his tall stature, the fact he could easily overpower you- you forget everything you ever learned and turn into a puddle of fear. You’re fucking terrified, and it would be humiliating if it wasn’t just the most basic human tendencies preserving in you.

You can’t be embarrassed about biology, about what your human body was designed to do. At the end of the day, your blood is red- not gold.

“No, no, I really gotta go.” You rip your hand away, mourning the loss of a few beads that didn’t quite escape with you. Instead of dwelling on that, you quickly turn around and head towards the main pavilion, where there are more campers- maybe you can find Matty or Carrie, another one of Clarisse’s siblings who would just get him off your back.

But, he follows. Of course he follows. He’s a man who’s never been told no, and he won’t be refused by you.

“Y/N,” he drawls, voice still teasing.

You clench your fists and walk faster, finally risking a glance over your shoulder- you slam into a familiar warm body you have spent countless nights with, now wearing a pair of jean shorts.

One hand swings around your waist, the other sits over her hip- where her favorite dagger is hidden.

“Y/N?” she asks, not taking her eyes off of Caden, but her voice is soft and full of concern.

“Nothing, Clar. It’s fine, let’s just go, yeah?”

She looks at you for just a second, and you haven’t had time to school your features back into a flat facade, so there’s still fear all over your face.

“What the fuck did you do, Caden?”

“Just tryin’ to spend time with Y/N. That a crime?”

He avoids calling you her girlfriend, even though that’s how most of the Ares cabin has come to know you.

“Yeah,” she says, slightly incredulously. “You hit your head too hard? She’s my fuckin’ girlfriend. I don’t know what you did, but don’t do it again.”

It’s like a sixth sense, the way you feel his eyes rake down your body, lingering on your ass. The blackness inside of you squeezes, and you feel the sudden urge to throw up, squeezing your eyes shut-

Clarisse tugs you behind her.

“Don’t fucking look at her, Caden.”

Her voice is level in barely-masked rage, and it honestly would scare you a little bit- if it wasn’t for the way her hand caressed your hip so softly.

“I’m not hurtin’ anyone. She probably likes it, huh?”

You wonder if he genuinely thinks he’s flirting with you, or just trying to piss Clarisse off.

Her jaw clenches.

“Four weeks laundry duty.”

His smile drops.

“Don’t fucking test me, Caden.”

You’re silently surprised at her strength, so you quickly grab her hand and squeeze, trying to urge her forward. Your stomach feels lighter, hoping that maybe- finally, finally he’ll leave you alone-

“Really, Clarisse?” The edge of desperation in his tone is pathetic. “You’re gonna choose her over your own half-brother. We both know who’d she choose between the two of us though, huh? The stronger one. The better one. She’d choose the son.”

She drops your hand and spins around.

“Clarisse,” you warn. “Clarisse.”

But she seems to be lost in her own world, where everything narrows down to him and the cocky look on his face, memory of his words, and you know any trace of your sweet girl is gone and it’s just the anger.

You quickly push yourself in between them, putting your hands out to Clarisse- you feel sort of stupid, but you’re desperate for her to just turn around, to take you with her, for the two of you to do like she said and get something to eat. You want to eat by the beach with her, you want to feel her in the sun, you wanna let yourself believe that four weeks of laundry duty will deter him.

“Y/N,” she says, warning you, and you know she won’t stop.

“Clarisse, I’m telling you, turn around. He’s not worth it.”

You can hear his smile.

“You won’t be saying that when I finally get my hands on you, baby.”

Fuck.

“Clarisse!” you shout, knowing its coming- she aims around you, pushing you out of the way as she sets a deadly punch on path with his face.

But it doesn’t hit him. It doesn’t hit him, and he gasps in shock before quickly running away, not wanting to deal with the consequences of his actions.

And you can’t blame him, because with your knees on the ground and the sting of Clarisse’s fist on your cheek- you should have just let her fucking kill him.

—-

Clarisse hasn’t looked at you in two weeks.

After you fell to the ground, completely disoriented by her punch, you remember the sound of her screaming and Caden laughing as he ran away. You remember her hands shaking as she helped you up, touching you as little as possible, staring at her now red knuckles.

Although you really didn’t have to, she led you to the healers, and one of the Apollo kids looked at your swelling eye, gave you something for the pain, and said you could leave.

And then, she made sure you got home safe to your cabin and hasn’t looked at you again.

In hindsight, knowing that that was the end of the relationship you used to have, it feels like a bad goodbye for something so good. You can’t even call it a goodbye, because it wasn’t good at all. There should have been something. Something more.

You remember the way Clarisse couldn’t stop staring at her bruised knuckles, you remember the way she couldn’t look you in your eyes, couldn’t touch you- wouldn’t allow herself to touch you.

That night, the relationship you had with Clarisse ended. But, you were still as in love with her as ever, you didn’t blame her for simply trying to protect you- you were the person who stepped in front of her. One second you weren’t there, the next you were. She didn’t have time to pull her punch, she didn’t have time to aim somewhere else- you don’t blame her.

You remember her saying she was sorry as she helped you to the healers. Sorry, over and over again. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby, Y/N, sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. You almost asked her to stop saying it, because the word was starting to sound weird. You almost told her it was unnecessary-because it was- but you didn’t get the chance. She made sure you got home safe to your cabin. She said she was sorry again, and then two weeks of torture commenced.

And you’re fucking sick of it. Sick of her acting like a coward, running away instead of owning up to the consequences of her actions- you aren’t mad at her for punching you. You never were.

You’re mad at her for leaving you in the days after, the nights where you couldn’t sleep on your favorite side because of the bruise. The nights where you would yawn and tears would well in your eyes, and it burned as it rolled down the sensitive skin. The nights where you would forget, and you would expect her to crawl into your bed like usual- but you would fall asleep alone and wake up alone.

You’re mad at her for abandoning you, for refusing to talk to you, to figure it out. Because while what you had before is gone, you can still have something new.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” your friend Tyla asks.

“Yeah,” Jackie, your other friend, continues. “Like, she did literally punch you in the fucking face- are we sure that’s not some sort of subconscious thing?”

She shrinks at the harsh glares you and Tyla give her.

“Okay. That was mean,” she says, softly. “Sorry.”

You roll your eyes and continue walking towards the training fields, where you know the entire Ares cabin is practicing hand-to-hand skills.

“I told you,” you huff. “She was trying to protect me from Caden. She loves me, she’s just angry. Angry at herself, but she shouldn’t be.”

“What even happened to Caden?” Tyla asks, noses scrunching at the fact she has to even say his name. “I mean, I saw him walking around with that broken face but-”

“Clarisse!”

You look up to the top of the small hill, the plateau where the sparring rings are marked into the grass by eco-friendly spray paint.

She’s holding one of her siblings down, her knee on his back, her hands holding his arms behind his back.

“Stop! I tap out, I tap out, Clarisse!” The boy screams. She smiles softly before letting him go and standing up.

He lays face down on the ground for a minute, breathing heavily before he finally picks himself up- staring at Clarisse’s offered hand. After a moment, he takes it and lets her tug him up. He nods at her and walks away to his friends, moaning about his arms and his back.

Clarisse shakes out her hands and looks around, but she knows no one wants to spar with her after that, even thought even from here you can see the fire in her veins. The need for a fight, for something to distract her. The need for movement, hard and fast. The need for anger to be the only thing she can feel.

“Me next?”

“Y/N,” Tyla hisses, and Jackie reaches out to grab you but you merely shake her off.

Clarisse’s eyes lock with yours.

It takes you a second to recognize the emotion in her eyes. Her body tenses up, she seems frozen in place like a deer in headlights. She’s scared.

“Clar,” you smile, meeting her in the circle.

She tears her eyes away from you, choosing instead to stare at the grass.

“I’m not fighting you. Go.”

“I’m not asking you to fight me,” you smile. “I’m asking you to spar with me.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I’m not sparring with you.”

It’s so tense, no matter how much you try to make it like before, no matter how much you smile and try to look in her eyes.

“Can I talk with you, then?”

You shuffle closer, and she doesn’t move.

“Y/N,” she sighs. She looks up at you, but you can tell she’s staring right past you, towards the tree line. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“Do what?” you snort. “Face your feelings? Let me help you?”

Her face is level, almost bored. She turns her face into a facade, a mask of nothingness. She won’t let you in, not now, and it makes you angry.

You would take anything from her right now.

You want her to hate you. You want her to love you. You want everything and anything.

You would take another punch, as long as you got to feel her skin on yours for a split second.

You dig your foot into the ground and glare at her.

“Clarisse. I’m serious, I want to talk to you.”

Her eyes meet yours for a split second, before she’s moving.

“Too bad. Forget me,” she says over her shoulder.

She fucks up and she runs away.

“Clarisse!” you shout, following her out of the training field, out of view from the eyes that were trying and failing not to look at the two of you. “You can’t leave me here. You can’t just pretend like the last year we’ve been together didn’t happen.”

“It’s better that way,” she sighs, like she’s doing you some big favor by staying away from you, when all she’s doing is hurting you.

“It’s not!” you shout, finally surging forward and grabbing her wrist-

She whips around and tugs her wrist out of your grip.

You don’t think she’s ever once refused your touch.

It burns. It burns in your heart so badly, burns worse than any regret you could ever feel.

“Don’t,” she says, like she’s warning you. “I’m- I’m trying to protect you, okay? Just- stop bein’ fuckin’ stubborn.”

You take a dejected step back, even though all you want to do is run into her arms.

“I don’t get it,” she continues, folding her hands behind her back. Her eyes finally land on the faded bruise. “Why don’t you hate me?”

The heartbreak in her voice hurts more than the punch, than the nights without her.

“Because I love you, Clar. I don’t care about what happened, it was an accident- you’re the only one who can’t see that.”

“I hurt you.”

“The only thing that hurts is you being away from me.”

“Nah,” she says, taking a step back. She shakes her head, staring at your eye before finally turning away. “I’m only anger, Y/N. I’ll only hurt you. And I can’t take hurting you again.”

The feeling of staring at her back, the sound of her footsteps crunching in the leaves, hurts so bad it creates another new organ in your body.

This time, it’s like a tumor growing from your heart, encasing it so every beat is a struggle, every breath is ragged. This new organ carries your heartbreak, and it grows bigger by the second.

—-

It’s starting to feel like Clarisse is never going to even look at you again.

Even when you look straight at her from across the pavilion, she doesn’t look back. You stare at her back all day. The memory of her walking away from you replays in your mind every time you close your eyes.

You wonder, when it’s just you in your lonely bed, if Clarisse isn’t angry but rather scared. She’s angry at herself for hurting you, yes, but she’s terrified she’ll do it again. And you know Clarisse rarely feels fear, and you want nothing more but to help her navigate these unknown feelings- but she won’t let you in.

You don’t know how to let her help you, but you give her time. You stare at her when you hope she isn’t looking, you wrap your arms around yourself and pretend it’s her, you dream of her lips and the way she holds you, the way she loves you.

Clarisse took you to the docks for one of your dates. The fourth? The fifth? Somewhere around there, but it was the first time you kissed. Both of you had realized that you liked each other but agreed to take it slow, but you’d never forget the way she looked at you after you put the flower she brought you into your hair. The way she looked at you when you let your feet hang over the edge, kicking the water. The way your thigh pressed against hers, ankles hooked together.

You’ll never forget the way you looked up at her after dipping your fingers into the cool water, the control and self restraint finally leaving her eyes, her body, as her face sunk into a wide smile and she slammed her lips into yours.

The dock is sacred to the two of you, so when you’re missing her, especially during this sunset, this is where you go.

And it’s perfect. It’s so perfect you can almost convince yourself she’s here with you.

Except, if she was here with you, there wouldn’t be this tumor on your heart.

At the sound of his voice, the other organ your emotions have formed twists.

“This wasn’t my plan, y’know.”

“Go away, Caden,” you moan. Is it a crime to want to wallow in your own self pity? It is a crime to want the black organs inside of you to swallow you whole?

“I just wanted to knock Clarisse down a few pegs, and I certainly did that. Paid the price, too, you seen my fuckin’ face?”

It looks as horrible as it always does, you think, but you bite your tongue.

“I wanna be alone, Caden. Please.” You bite the word out like you’re a hyena choking on a laugh.

“But, c’mon.”

He steps closer to you, until you can feel him looming over you, tips of his sneakers pressing into your ass, he’s so close to you. You kick the water, annoyed, but he either doesn’t get the hint or ignores it.

“I’m not that bad, am I? Do me a favor, baby, let me cart you around for a few days and make her miserable.”

You’re about to just get up and leave all together when the sound of someone stepping onto the dock surprises you.

“Get away from her.”

But there’s something unspoken in the air. You’re just “her” now- not “my girlfriend” not “her’s.”

“Why are you always fuckin’ bothering me, Clarisse?”

You turn around. She smiles sarcastically.

“Why are you always fuckin’ bothering Y/N?”

“I’m not botherin’ her though, huh?”

He reaches down to grab at a piece of your hair, running it in between his fingers.

You flinch, but you’re more focused on the way Clarisse’s fists clench, her jaw ticks.

“Caden,” you sigh, batting his hand away.

“Seems like a pretty clear no to me, huh?”

Caden sighs and straightens, letting your hair fall from his fingers.

“What are you going to do about it, Clarisse? You gonna try and punch me- again? Try to hit the right person this time, huh?”

“Go fuck yourself, Caden.” She finally, finally, looks at you. You feel blessed and divine, like she’s a goddess who’s taken the time to merely look at you. “C’mon, Y/N.”

You scramble up to follow her beckoning hand at the same time Caden shifts on his feet.

He knocks into you, and you’re on the edge of the dock, and you scream as you fall in.

The water wasn’t that deep, but it was cold and embarrassing, and you fell at an awkward angle.

You surface, paddling to keep yourself afloat, coughing water out of your mouth and glaring up at him.

“Shit,” he swears, quickly running down the dock before you can shout some curse on his entire bloodline.

“Y/N?!” Clarisse shouts, panic on her face falling immediately at the sight of you afloat. She breathes out, fixing her hair that got all moved around in her frantic sprint down the dock. “You good?”

“Does it look like I’m good?” you deadpan.

She smiles.

“C’mon, come around to the ladder.”

She smiles as she helps you up, wrapping an arm around you even though you’re soaking wet, and you’re so mesmerized at the sight of her smiling, the feeling of her smiling at you that you can’t even comprehend it.

She has her arm wrapped around you.

She’s touching you.

Gods, did you miss this.

“Cold?” she asks, your hips pressed together as you walk down the dock.

“Yeah,” you whisper, feeling how warm she is against you. “I’ll be okay, though.”

“How long has he been… doing that?”

Your eyes meet hers.

“Jackie and Tyla told me- yelled at me, really- after they cornered me the other day. They said you were really fucked up about everything, and I should talk to you and I- I don’t know. I thought staying away was for the best.”

You cringe at the memory from a few nights ago, when you finally broke down and cried like a baby in front of your friends because of how much you missed her.

“And I saw you at the dock, and then fuckin’ Caden got over here before I could,” she laughs, dryly. “Whatever. I’ll walk you back-”

“Will you talk to me, Clar?”

You both stop, beachy sand sticks to your wet shoes, and Clarisse nervously looks away before you prod.

“I’m not mad at you. And I know you’re mad at yourself, and scared-”

She scoffs, but it’s halfhearted.

“But I love you, Clarisse. I love you, and I don’t blame you. Don’t blame yourself, and love me.”

In the sunlight, you can still see the remnants of the bruise. Softly, she reaches out and traces her pointer finger around your eye.

Her touch is so soft, the pad of her finger so rough- that sweet juxtaposition with her has always made your mind fuzzy. She makes all the tension in your body melt away. She makes everything better.

She swallows hard.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, tears welling in her eyes. “I know I’ve said it so much, but I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to hit you, I swear on my father-”

Her voice chokes up, and you can tell she hates the fact she’s crying, so you draw her into your neck and let her hide away there. Running your hands through her hair, telling her it’s okay each time she apologizes.

“I know who you are,” you say when the tears have stopped, and you’re just relishing being in each other’s arms again. “I know who I fell in love with, and I know who you are. You’re angry and you’re sweet, you’re mean and you’re kind, and I love all of it. Don’t doubt that, please.”

She breathes out before leaving the comfort of your neck, putting her shaky hands on your face.

“I love all of you,” you repeat.

She smiles softly.

“I love all of you.”

She kisses your eye softly, literally almost like a butterfly landing on your eyelid, unable to not whisper one more apology against your skin.

You roll your eyes, smiling to match her.

“And don’t think I’d leave you over one mistake, seriously, La Rue. You insult me.”

She rolls her eyes too, thumb stroking your cheek.

“Oh, forgive me,” she teases.

“You’re already forgiven,” you smile, eyes traveling down to the lips you’ve been dreaming about. “But kiss me to make sure.”

—-

“-and he would just look at me all the time. That was the creepiest part, I think. Like, okay, he would feel up on me sometimes, but whatever. I could avoid him. At meals I would just be minding my business and he would be staring at me. More just annoying, you know? And, yeah. That made me feel horrible, like literally sick. I just felt so dirty, so fucked up- Clar?”

You watch as she stares up at the ceiling, cracking her knuckles.

“Clarisse,” you scold.

You shift from your stomach to your side, head propped up so you can properly look at her. Your bed is full and warm now that she’s here.

“Oh, no, keep goin’, baby.”

“Do not kill him. Do not hurt him. I told you, I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“Nah, I know, sweetheart. I’m just thinking about it, don’t take that away from me, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but a smile crosses its way onto your face. She smiles back, and it just feels so surreal, so different- but exactly like it’s supposed to be. You know Clarisse is angry, but you know she’s sweet too. Clarisse knows you love all of her.

She draws you to lay on her chest, hand in your hair, the other slipping under your shirt to scratch your back.

“I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me,” she whispers. “That’s the worst thing. You were dealing with all this alone- and I had no fucking idea.”

“Yeah. ‘Cause being with you made it better, of course you didn’t notice.”

She kisses your forehead. “You’re too sweet, baby.”

You smile and kiss her chest.

“I’m only not killing him ‘cause you asked, I hope you know that. If it was up to me, he’d be dead.”

“Oh, baby, I know lots of other ways we can channel that emotion.”

You glance up at her and she searches your eyes before promptly throwing you to the side and climbing on top of you.

Yeah, Clarisse is angry. But you love her angry.

—-

clarisse staring at her hands like they’re covered in blood: oh gods… oh gods what have i done. what have i done (again that picture of ivan the terrible holding his d3ad son)

y/n: ouch! ok anyways- girl you did not kill me calm down.

—-

caden trying not to die after clarisse inconveniences him for the sixth time today… hides his favorite sword, permanently sticks him on laundry duty, puts literal “kick me” signs on his back, puts holes in his favorite clothes…

—-

y/n is that one song that goes “FUCK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME BABY I NEED A FREAK TO DRIVE ME CRAZZYYYYY”

…and she’s so real for that.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1 @maxlynn17

@thewritingbarbie

—-

from this ask

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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k9effect · 5 months

Text

I thought about Mav passed out at his work desk with headphones on and it spiralled into this whole thing

Mav always felt a little lonely.

Even when he had people around him who loved him, he always ended up on his own one way or another and felt that loneliness seeping in. Goose was the first to notice. Before Goose's trips back to Tennessee to see Carole included Mav, he would come back to base to hear about how his pilot had lost a bit of his shine while he was away.

That's when Goose started making the recordings.

It was a small gift, but it meant the world to Mav. A brand new walkman, headphones and all, and a single cassette tape. This tape didn't have music on it, no, it contained a three hour recording of Goose reading though the F-14 Tomcat Flight Manual and adding in his own comedic commentary.

He wasn't sure what Mav would think of it, but when he returned home from another trip and found his pilot curled up asleep on the lounge, headphones on, walkman clutched in his hands, the tape run through, he realised he had made the right decision. Once Mav stirred, realising Goose had returned, he pulled the RIO onto the couch and thanked him for how thoughtful and considerate of a gift it was. That it made him feel less alone.

Goose continued the recordings. They were simple things he could make while completing other work. An hour recording here of Goose rambling while he completed chores, half an hour recording there of Goose muttering while he completes some paperwork. Even after Mav started joining him on his trips to Carole and they inevitably became attached at the hip, Goose continued making recordings. They grew more sincere over time, telling Mav that he was loved and he was strong and could get through anything.

Maverick was very glad he continued making them. It was a piece of Goose he could always carry with him.

Because one day, Goose wasn't there anymore.

Ice was never quite certain why his wingman was always listening to music on a busted walkman, but he never questioned it.

That was until he was packing Mav an overnight bag after an accident and Mav had specifically requested the walkman. Ice had taken a closer look at it and seen the writing on the cassette.

‘GOOSE - 12’

Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled on the headphones and pressed play.

“Y'know, Mav-” It was Goose's voice, Ice realised with a pang deep in his chest, “- I'm pretty sure, by like, most, if not all, the laws of aviation, you should have broken our Tomcat's airframe several times over. I honestly don't know how she's still together-” There was the clinking of dishes and sloshing of water along with the distinct sound of a bristly, sudsy brush scrubbing metal. “- What sort of demon did you make a deal with to manage this? I'm not arguing, I'd rather not face a board of inquiry again, but I'm curious.”

Ice paused it.

He realised very quickly what the cassette was and that, judging on the number, there were more of these.

Mav was always listening to Goose talk.

He packed the walkman into the overnight bag with much more care than he offered possibly anything.

Mav stared.

He blinked once, then twice. But it changed nothing.

There was a cassette sitting on his bed. On it, was scribbled a name and a number.

‘ICE - 1’

Beneath it was a small, simple note.

‘Listen to me.’

Mav pushed the cassette into his walkman and, sitting down, let it play.

“Hey, Mav. Sorry if this is weird for you, it sure feels weird for me. I- uh- I realised what the walkman is for. I'm sorry I teased you for it, it's not dumb and old. I know Slider thought you were pretty cool for having one. He's got one too. But anyways, I found a recording of Goose and I realised why you have this so I thought, y'know, maybe I could make you some new ones? To make up for the teasing at least. I mightn't be as good as Goose but I'll give it my best shot. I've got a book here, I'm just gonna read it out loud for a while, okay? Okay. Here we go…”

Mav listened to the whole thing in one sitting. It was long and sweet and Mav felt something aching inside him, something that hadn't ached in a long time.

Every week or so, Mav would find another cassette in his room with an increased number on it. It was just Ice for a while, but then he found one labelled ‘SLIDER - 1’. Then another a few months later labelled ‘HOLLYWOOD - 1’, then ‘WOLFMAN - 1’. His collection grew as more people helped continue Goose's legacy.

The day he found ‘VIPER - 1’ he felt like he was five again. Viper's recording was two hours worth of him recounting childhood stories of Mav, stories of him with his parents, of just his parents, and deployment tales of his dad.

Once Mav buys his first proper home, an old hangar out in the Mojave Desert, he builds a small shelf to hold all of his cassettes instead of keeping them in a bag or a box. It's then, when they're all neatly organised together, that he realises just how many he has.

The original thirty-one from Goose.

Three from Carole.

One short one from Bradley.

Seventeen from Iceman.

Ten from Slider.

Seven each from Hollywood and Wolfman.

Four from Chipper.

Three from Sunny.

And, so far, Two from Viper.

He doesn't feel so lonely anymore. Everyone he loves has put time and effort into making sure he doesn't feel alone. That instead, he feel loved.

And he sure does.

Even now, years down the track, Ice will stumble upon Maverick passed out at his work desk late at night ontop of a half finished project, with his old walkman next to him, headphones on, listening to Goose laugh his way through the Tomcat manual.

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youneedsomeprompts · 5 months

Text

~ FORBIDDEN LOVE ~ PROMPTS about secret dating

requested by: various anons requests: I saw the "Forbidden Love" prompts, mostly about not admitting to themselves / each other, and it really made me yearn for forbidden love prompts where they're together but they have to hide it from everyone else; one sided “keeping a relationship hidden from coworkers”; can you post prompts about two oblivious people who are already dating but the other people don't know they're dating? dialogues or scenarios would do<3 thank you and love your prompt contents!

Feel free to use and reblog!

Part 1: ~ FORBIDDEN LOVE ~ PROMPTS about confessing a forbidden crush Part 2: ~ FORBIDDEN LOVE ~ PROMPTS about showing love without confessing

Setting/scenario:

#1 - keeping it secret at first because they didn't think it would turn into something that serious anyway #2 - enjoying the thrill of the secrecy #3 - being unsure whether that nervous feeling in their stomach is coming from their feelings for the other or the fact the relationship has to be kept a secret #4 - it's killing them that they have no one they can share their thoughts about their new relationship with #5 - making up the most random excuses to secretly meet up with the other #6 - screaming internally because they're having a date but they can't talk about it #7 - trying to act casual and unsuspicious in public when they're together but it's so hard #8 - teasing the other because they know how hard it is for them to keep their affection/arousal to themselves #9 - making promises that they don't have to keep it secret for much longer (but is it really realistic?) #10 - developing a method to communicate in code #11 - keeping it secret to protect the other #12 - keeping it secret until better times come #13 - making up for keeping it secret by extremely romantic/spoiling dates when they're alone #14 - wanting to fix everything before making the other their official s/o #15 - finding it the least stressful way to date to just keep it secret #16 - enjoying their little, happy secret because that way, no one can ruin it/take it from them #17 - it's like living in two completely separate worlds because their relationship is something that just exists between the two of them and the time together is always otherworldly #18 - wanting to stay in their happy dream world forever #19 - making plans for the future together, even though they don't know where they will be tomorrow #20 - they're keeping the other's love letters hidden under their pillow even though they know how risky it is

Dialogue:

#21 - "You're the most precious thing to me. So, I have to keep you as safe as possible." #22 - "Ah, I'm glad to have you finally to myself." #23 - "When I'm with you, it's like the earth stood still. I'm never so at peace." #24 - "You know, I really don't want to imagine what would happen if the others knew." #25 - "We have to be more careful. This was really a close call." #26 - "Do you really think it's necessary we keep it secret for much longer?" #27 - "I'm doing this for you. You're much better off when the others don't know." "You always say that. But I'm not sure if I still believe it." #28 - "It's not ideal but hell would break lose if it came out. I'm really glad we have the moments of peace. And intimacy." #29 - "Could you have imagined that we would someday end up like this?" #30 - "You're the best that happened to me. And I can tell no one about it. But I want to shout it from the rooftops." "Oh, you better don't. But you can always whisper it to my ear." #31 - "Isn't it fun to have this secret?" #32 - ^ "That's one way to call it." #33 - "I was really impressed how you handled that earlier. So cool. So smooth. So casual. As if I hadn't just made you whimper and made your eyes roll back minutes prior." #34 - "It's all worth it. I would risk it all again just to be with you." #35 - "Do you really think this is a good idea? They could find us." #36 - "You'll be the death of me." #37 - "To be honest, it's pretty funny to see you acting so unfazed and oblivious when we both know you were still thinking about me being naked." #38 - ^ "I always think about you being naked. It's not as if it's a new challenge to keep a straight face." #39 - "But you do know that I'm doing this all for you, right? Otherwise, I couldn't care less." "But you have to act as if you were in for the thing itself. They cannot connect you to me." #40 - "One day, I will carry you off to a place where it's just us. So, be prepared to be kindly abducted one day, alright?"

#forbidden love prompts #forbidden romance prompts #secret dating prompts #writing prompts #prompt list #prompts #otp prompts #otp #fanfic prompts #writing ideas #writing inspiration #writers on tumblr #writeblr #setting prompts #dialogue prompts #romance prompts #romantic prompts #40 prompts

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iluvmorales · 11 months

Text

12:15am , E-42 Miles

Summary Miles just really needs his lover

a/n none

warnings mentions of threats, near death experience, death, trauma (?) angst w love/fluff

‘come over’

Was all the text read, sent at 12:15. Miles had a tendency of getting home late from his job, but when it was past 11, it usually meant something went wrong.

It didn’t even take a minute for you to grab your coat, throw on the hood and head out the door. You took the elevator down and took a late night cab to the place, seeing as how it was dangerous for a girl to walk the streets at night since they could, and most likely would fall victim to lots of crimes.

You tipped the driver, before stepping out infront of the building only for Mrs. Morales to open the door and let you in with a smile, but worried expression on her face.

“Hola mija..” you smiled at her softly; “Hola, ¿El está bien?” You asked, not speaking too loudly. She just shook her head; “Yo no sé mija, he just- won’t talk to me” she sounded worried as she lead you up the stairs and into their apartment.

“Talk to him, por favor Mija” she held one of your hands between both of hers, with a pleading look in her eyes. “Of course” you placed yours on top of hers squeezing before turning to go into miles’ room.

You didn’t even knock, simply opening the door and closing it behind you. The room was pitch black, the only light coming from the moon as this side of town was always dark. “Miles?” You whispered, trying your best to find his figure.

Then you heard rustling in the bed, and miles peaked his head out. “Vida mia,..¿Que paso?” You cooed, making your way to the bed and sitting next to him.

He only turned to face you, tired eyes boring into yours. “Nada..pero I just really need you right now” he mumbled, arms snaking around you and pulling you closer so that his face was now in your lap.

Your heart pounded, but ached at the sight of how exhausted he looked. You lightly tapped him making motions for him to sit up, to which he did, slowly. He gave you a questioning hm, his eyes still giving you that same look.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you’re worrying us all. At least tell me something, anything” your hands on his neck and cheek, caressing him as if he’d break.

He sighed and closed his eyes; he swallowed the lump in his throat thinking about the situation earlier that night. “They..almost had me today” You could hear the pain in his voice, and the way his face twisted when he thought about it.

You wrapped your arms around him, legs now sprawled out across the bed as you pulled him in. “Oh miles..” was all you could get out, holding him so tightly. He almost died today, and it was a possibility it could happen again. “just the thought of loosing you..fuck” you squeezed him, tears threatening to spill.

His arms were now hooked under yours, holding you. “I’m sorry mamí” was all he could mumble, a tear now falling down his cheek.

“It’s not your fault miles, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you” you loosened your grip, rubbing circles on his back, and one hand coming up to wipe the tear from his face.

It was rare miles let you treat him like this, ever since his father passed he believed it was his job to provide and protect, take the role of “the man of the house”. He forced himself to grow up faster.

“I’m just so glad you’re okay” you mumbled, placing a kiss at the top of his braids. You both laid there staring at the night sky from his window.

Miles enjoyed the feeling of being held and comforted, being cared for. But he knows sooner or later he’d go back to the role he played, and have to tell you the truth.

the truth being how they held him at gunpoint, retrained, then threatened to kill you if he ever, stepped out of line again.

#spider verse #across the spiderverse #earth 42 #miles morales prowler #animals #architecture #miles morales x reader #prowler!miles x reader #miles morales #prowler!miles

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thehusbandoden · 5 months

Note

Can you do hcs about class 1-a with pregnant darling? It's fine if you can't!/Uncomfortable with it!

A/n: of course! I hope these were semi enjoyable lol <3

Pregnant Reader Headcannons Part 2 (Aizawa, Shoto, Shinso, and Tamaki)

General info:

Genre: fluff/slice of life \\ total wc: 1,876 \\ posted: 12/06/2023 \\ requested

Part 1 (Izuku, Bakugo, Kiri, Denki, and Sero)

Aizawa Shota (707 words):

Aizawa always works hard, as we all know.

He not only teaches, but he also works as a pro hero during the night.

He's sleep deprived and very grumpy.. but not to you.

He's sweet and loving, though sometimes tsundere.

He spoils you with gifts and affection whenever he can, trying to slightly make up for the time away from one another.

When he finds out you're pregnant.. he's honestly scared.

He works so much.. how could he ever take care of a child? Not to mention the long and hard nine months you're going to have to face practically alone.

He doesn't show his worry however, he holds you close and kisses your face, reassuring you that everything is going to be okay and that he's happy.

He tries to get paternity leave about four months into your pregnancy, but he didn't actually get it until six months.

And that was from teaching.. he was still working in the middle of the night until you hit eight months.

He was exhausted.

He would wake up at seven, prepare his lesson, make you breakfast, clean up the house, and write you a love letter for you to find. (He secretly placed them in places easy to reach/find).

Afterwards, he goes back to bed and cuddles you until he has to get up again in a few minutes.

Whenever he has to leave you get really sad and it makes him feel so guilty.. especially if you cried or begged him to stay.

He gave you lots and lots of kisses, holding you tightly against him as he apologized, telling you that he would be home before you knew it.

He taught as best as he could even though he hardly got a few hours of sleep, and he graded papers and planned lessons whenever he was on break.

Sometimes he didn't even eat lunch, too busy focussing on his student's papers.

After school he picked you up a gift and wrote you yet another love letter.

He usually returned home with a bouquet of flowers, a treat you've been craving, something to do with one of your hobbies, and a letter full of love.

He'd wrap you in his arms, coddling you with kisses and praise.

The rest of his day was full of you, and only you.

He held you, kissed you, spoiling you in whatever way possible.

He couldn't really sleep well, unable to rest his eyes when you were laying next to him so.. vulnerable.

He usually watched you sleep as he waited for midnight.

When the clock hits midnight he starts to get ready for work, giving you a loving peck every time he passes your sleeping form.

He'll gently shake you awake when it's time for him to leave, telling you that he'll be back in a few hours and that he loved you.

He embraced you tightly, littering kisses up and down your face before giving you a long, proper kiss. Smiling at how you sleepily kissed back.

He left with one more 'I love you', and then he was off to go patrol the streets.

He actually gets off work an hour before he says he does, but he uses that time to get the rest of the papers for his students done.

He gets home about six am, showering before embracing you tightly.

He'll sleep with you for another hour before getting up about an hour later to get everything else done.

All in all he does his very best for you, and absolutely spoils you when he gets paternity leave.

You don't have to do anything but sit there, look pretty, and let your body make that baby.

I'd say he's fairly protective. He doesn't like anyone but 'his' people, and you are the one person who he would do anything for... and maybe Eri, but she comes later.

He intimidates anyone who dares make you uncomfortable.

Though if you're handling well than he'll watch behind you, smirking slightly.

All in all he's a selfless husband. He'd do anything for you, and he doesn't care if that means he gets even less sleep..

(He'll lie about the hours of sleep he's getting so you don't have to worry about him)

Todoroki Shoto (537 words):

Shoto always wanted kids, but he was too afraid to turn out like his dad.

So he never mentioned them, and you didn't either.

Well until you found out you were pregnant.

You were kinda scared to tell him at first, afraid that it would trigger ptsd from his childhood or something.

WEll, luckily for you, he wasn't upset.. at all.

He was nervous, yes. Really nervous, but he was excited and happy.

After a few minutes of staring at the test, thinking about what it meant, he pulled you into a tight embrace, lovingly kissing the apple of your cheek.

He got paternity leave at about five months.

He followed you everywhere, too worried about the 'what ifs' to let you do anything by yourself.

He wouldn't let you carry anything if it was remotely heavy.

Very protective, but in a lot less obvious way.

IF he notices someone looking at you in a lustful way he'll pull you into his chest, placing a hand on your baby bump as if he was screaming at them 'she's taken'.

If it came down to it, he would physically defend you.

But unlike Bakugo, only if he really needed to.

He'll glare and he'll tell them that you're married, but he won't physically harm them unless they started it, or they touched you/got into your space.

He gets really clingy, but he only hovers over you because he's too scared to hurt you and baby.

He'll usually cuddle you if you reassure him that he won't hurt you -or baby-, but he does get really really insecure sometimes and starts to overthink.

Most of the time the only way to pull him out of that is to be upset about it.

If you get really sad/angry he'll hold you against him, apologizing softly.

He'll help you however he can.

But he can't cook..

He literally almost burned the house down... twice.

He tried and tried, but he just can't seem to make anything but cereal.

So instead he hires you a chef.

He massages your feet, shoulders, back, belly bump, anywhere you need it.

You get a daily dose of cuddles and kisses. That isn't negotiable.

One day you were feeling very uncomfortable and didn't want any touch.. you left bed before Shoto and rejected his kisses.

He literally thought that you hated him.

He let you have your space, but he was so freaking sad.

He was angry too, but only at himself.

He started overthinking, thinking that he wasn't good enough, that he worked too hard, and that you deserve someone better.

The thoughts went on and on until he couldn't take it anymore.

HE shyly went over to you, gripping the bottom of his shirt tightly like a child, his head downcast and tears shining in his eyes.

"D-do you.. hate me?" He asked quietly, a tear falling down his cheek.

Your heart broke and you burst into tears, pulling him onto the couch next to you, holding him close as you sobbed, apologizing and telling him how perfect he was and how much you loved him.

He didn't believe you until you repeated it like five times and gave him over three dozen kisses.

He's still partly broken from his past, so even little things like that can make his brain go into overdrive, and he starts to get insecure.

That aside, he's a very sweet, thoughtful, and loving husband.

Shinso Hitoshi (165):

You both already stayed indoors most of the time, but this just cemented it.

He was a protective overthinker. He didn't want anything bad to happen to you.

He doesn't like many people, but when it comes to you he would literally kill for you.. even if that ruins his newly gained reputation.

He got paternity leave about four months into your pregnancy, spoiling you for the long five months afterwards.

He'd glare at anyone who stared at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to bring you closer to him.

If it came down to it he would use his quirk to get any creep far away from you.

You usually cuddle all day. It's actually pretty calming.

He takes care of you entirely, cooking, cleaning, the works.

He's amazing at foot massages.

He gets more sleep now because all he does is cuddle you.

He's not very good with helping you with your hormones, but the affection make up for it.

Amajiki Tamaki (430):

Tama is so freaking cute.

He's still shy ofc, but he musters up the courage to protect you.

He will get physical if it comes down to it.

But only if they start to try and touch you.

He's honestly so sweet.

He's so happy and yet so scared.

Out of everyone, he's most definitely the one that over tinks the most.

He worries about everything from him being a terrible parent to his kid getting his anxiety and hating him for the rest of their life because they're being bullied.

He starts to think about birthday parties and prom. What about his child's wedding?! They're father is going to be a mess!

Not to mention labor?!

What if he passes out?

What if you start to hate him?

What if you leave him? What if he fails you and your child?

His thoughts grow darker and darker as he falls into a pit of despair.

He'd probably grow into a depressive and if you don't snap him out of it.

Pull him into your arms, give him a long, proper kiss, and then just cuddle him.

Hold him to your chest, whispering sweet things in his ear.

He'll be better within 5-40 minutes.

Whenever you breakdown because of your hormones he'll break down with you.

He tries to be strong but seeing you cry breaks him.

He'll hold you, trying to reassure you as he's breaking down too.

He'll get your cravings whenever he can.

Even if it's two in the morning, or in broad daylight where he has to deal with a lot of people..

Like Shoto, he thinks you hate him if you get upset with him.

Though unlike Shoto, he won't come to you. He continues to take care of you, but he's obviously reserved.

He won't ask for cuddles, or even move to lay beside you.

He keeps to himself and when he's not taking care of you he's across the room, staring at the floor.

He could go on for weeks if you don't catch him.

He's a sensitive sweetheart, and he does need to be taken care of too.

Oh oh, he's also super good at cooking.

Due to his quirk, he's tried a lot of meals and cooks often.

If you want to try another recipe he'll secretly work on it for days, before shyly giving it to you to try.

He's very very insecure, so he trusts you a lot to let you try new recipes of his.

He loves you a lot, and the one thing he wants is your happiness and love.

~~~~~

Part 1

Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <3

Aizawa's masterlist | Shoto's masterlist | Shinso's masterlist | Tama's masterlist

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33

~~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

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dedalvs · 5 months

Text

Hey! I'm David Peterson, and a few years ago, I wrote a book called Create Your Own Secret Language. It's a book that introduces middle grade readers to codes, ciphers, and elementary language creation. The age range is like 10-14, but skews a little bit older, as the work gets pretty complicated pretty quick. I think 12-13 is the best age range.

Anyway, I decided to look at the Amazon page for it a bit ago, and it's rated fairly well (4.5 at the moment), but there are some 1 star reviews, and I'm always curious about those. Usually they're way off, or thought the book was going to be something different (e.g. "This book doesn't teach you a thing about computer coding!"), but every so often there's some truth in there. (Oh, one not 1 star but lower rated review said they gave it to their 2nd grader, but they found it too complicated. I appreciate a review like that, because I am not at all surprised—I think it is too complicated for a 2nd grader—and I think a review like that is much more effective than a simple 10+ age range on the book.) The first 1 star rating I came to, though, was this:

Now calling a completely mild description of a teenage girl who has a crush on another girl controversial is something I take exception to, but I don't want to pile on this person. Instead I wanted to share how this section came to be in the book.

The book is essentially divided into four parts. The first three parts deal with different ciphers or codes that become more complicated, while the last part describes elementary language creation. The first three sections are each built around a message that the reader can decode, but with language creation, the possibilities are too numerous and too complicated, so there isn't an example to decode, or anything. It would've been too difficult.

For what the messages to decode are about, though, I could do, potentially, anything, so at first I thought to tie them into a world of anthropomorphic animals (an ongoing series of battles between cats and mice), with messages that are being intercepted and decoded. My editor rejected that. Then I redid it so that each section had an individual story that had to do with some famous work of literature. My editor rejected that as well. He explained that it needed to be something that was relevant to kids of the target age range. I was kind of at a loss, for a bit, but then I thought of a story of kids sending secret messages about their uncle who eats too many onions. I shared that, my editor loved it, and I was like, all right. I can do this.

The tough part for me in coming up with mini-stories to plan these coded messages around was coming up with a reason for them to be secret. That's the whole point of a code/cipher: A message you want to be sure no one else but the intended recipient can read in case the message is intercepted. With the first one, two kids are poking gentle fun at a family member, so they want to be sure no one else can read what they're writing. For the last one, a boy is confessing to a diary, because he feels bad that he allowed his cat to escape, but no one knows he did it (he does find the cat again). For the other, I was trying to think of plausible message-sending scenarios for a preteen/teen, and I thought of how we used to write notes in, honestly, 4th and 5th grade, but I aged it up a bit, and decided to have a story about a girl writing a note to her friend because she has a crush on another girl, and wants her friend's opinion/help.

Here's where the point of sharing this comes in. As I had originally written it, the girl's note to her friend was not just telling her friend about her crush, it was also a coming out note, and she was concerned what her parents would react poorly.

Anyway, I sent that off with the rest of my draft, and I got a bunch of comments back on the whole draft (as expected), but my editor also commented on that story, in particular. Specifically, he noted that not every LGBTQ+ story has to be a coming out story, the part about potential friction between her and her parents because of it was a little heavy for the book, and, in general, not every coming out story has to be traumatic.

That was all he said, but I immediately recognized the, in hindsight, obvious truth of all three points, and I was completely embarrassed. I changed it immediately, so that the story beats are that it's a crush, she's not sure if it'll be reciprocated, and she's also very busy with school and band and feels like this will be adding even more busy-ness to her daily life as a student/teen. Then I apologized for making such a blunder. My editor was very good about it—after all, that's what drafts and editors are for—and that was a relief, but I'm still embarrassed that I didn't think of it first.

But, of course, this is not my lived experience, not being a member of the LGBTQ+ community. This is the very reason why you have sensitivity readers—to provide a vantage point you're blind to. In this case, I was very fortunate to have an editor who was thinking ahead, and I'm very grateful that he was there to catch it. That editor, by the way, is Justin Krasner.

One reason I wanted to share this, though, is that while it always is a bit of a difficult thing to speak up, because there might be a negative reaction, sometimes there is no pushback at all. Indeed, sometimes the one being called out is grateful, because we all have blindspots due to our own lived experiences. You can't live every life. For that reason, your own experience will end up being valuable to someone at some point in time for no other reason than that you lived it and they didn't. And, by the by, this is also true for the present, because the lives we've lived cause us to see what's going on right before our eyes in different lights.

Anyway, this is a story that wouldn't have come out otherwise, so I wanted to be sure to let everyone know that Justin Krasner ensured that my book was a better book. An editor's job is often silent and thankless, so on Thanksgiving, I wanted to say thank you, Justin. <3

#conlang #language #code #codes #cipher #ciphers #thanksgiving #thank you

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bookyeom · 3 months

Text

pairing: woozi x reader word count: 3.4K warnings: a couple of swears, kissing, alcohol, sad!reader, sad!jihoon

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.

flatline by 5 seconds of summer

someone just like you, no one else i’m falling for the first time heart is gonna flatline now i can’t even look at you you’re like staring at the sunshine

You stand outside the crowded bar, grateful for the respite of fresh air after your time in the hazy, grimy dance club. There are only a few other patrons smoking or loitering outside as you wait for your ride to arrive, because it’s only midnight and inside, the party is just beginning.

Your head is buzzing pleasantly as you squint at your phone to check the time, the bright light from the screen making you wince. 12:07. If you were more sober, you would probably laugh at yourself. You’d gone out for a friend's birthday, but as soon as you had said the satisfactory hellos and gotten sufficiently drunk — which, arguably, didn’t take long — you’d been ready to go home. At midnight.

Your younger self is cringing.

As you gracefully get into your Uber and the driver begins to wind through the streets from the bar to your apartment, you pull up the last text thread on your phone. A smile is already on your lips just at the sight of the contact name.

Y/N [12:08am]: On my way hoooome. Hope u waited up for me!!

Your roommate shoots back a reply almost instantly, and you giggle at his response, your hand lifting to cover your mouth.

Jihoon-Ah [12:09am]: Ok. I’m still working, so keep your drunk ass quiet.

If you had it your way, he’d have come out with you. He knows all of your friends and you know all of his, but the club scene isn’t really his vibe. Plus, he has a music final due tomorrow – today? – and if there’s one thing he’s dead serious about, it’s his music.

Jihoon-Ah [12:13am]: Door’s unlocked. Be safe.

You feel a flush spread across your cheeks as the second message comes through, and warmth floods all the way down to your toes.

Jihoon always manages to do that to you. Make you blush, make you feel warm and fuzzy, make you laugh. It’s funny, because to those who don’t know him, he seems quiet and private, and maybe even a little bit closed off. But with his friends, with those who get to know him, he’s brash and hilarious, and he cares a hell of a lot about those who care about him. He’s one of your best friends, your roommate, and quite possibly the love of your life.

He doesn’t know about that last part, though, and you don’t plan on telling him anytime soon.

“Jihoon-ah,” you singsong as you finally make it into your shared apartment. He doesn’t turn to look at you from his spot on the couch, but you know he’s heard you come in by his grunt of acknowledgement. He remains where you left him, on the couch and hunched over his laptop, black hair mussed from where he’s probably been running his fingers through it as he agonises over his piece. You hastily take off your shoes before you cross the room, flopping down next to him unceremoniously. He glances at you briefly before turning back to his screen.

“Did you have fun?” He asks without looking at you.

“Mhm,” you mumble back. It’s quiet for a few moments, the sound of his fingers clicking away lulling you into a daze until he speaks up once more.

“You should change,” he says, and you turn to stretch out your legs, pointing your toes. He glances at you again as you do so, eyebrows raised. “You took off the shoes, thank god, but you’re probably not comfortable in that dress anymore.”

You yawn, smiling at his thoughtful comment before replying, “It’s called fashion, Jihoon, look it up. Beauty is pain.”

“I already told you before you went out that you looked nice, don’t push it.”

You let out a laugh at that, and the quiet smile on his lips betrays any real irritation on his part. You watch him for a moment, your eyes lingering for far too long on the softness of his mouth as he focuses back on his work.

You really hadn’t stood a single chance against falling in love with him, had you?

“I’m too tired to change,” comes your weak mumble.

“Okay,” he responds easily, his attention back on his computer again. You take the opportunity to let your eyes trace over his profile one more time; his eyelashes, his nose, the curve of his lips. The quiet contentment remains on his face, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed knowing that you’re part of the reason for it.

Your eyes finally turn to wander across the laptop screen to see what he’s working on, your head falling onto his shoulder. You’d have done it sober too, but with a bit of alcohol in your system, you’re just slightly less nervous. You can feel him tense. Your eyes fall to where his hands have paused, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve stressed him out with the physical contact, but then his shoulders relax. It takes only a few seconds before he begins clicking and typing again, and you can’t help but smile.

You’re looking at his computer and, subsequently, at his unfinished work. You can still recall when he’d been hesitant to let anyone see his music — let alone his drunk, touchy roommate. Yet somehow, you’ve managed to secure a coveted spot in the small group of people Jihoon trusts enough to share his work with. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still freak out every time he shares a piece he’s working on – he does, and you know that – but he insists that he wants to show you anyway. You often feel a strong sense of satisfaction in knowing what that means. It means that he trusts you — and that’s an incredible privilege.

You stay on the couch like that for a few more minutes as he continues to work, until a yawn overtakes you and on instinct, your nose turns to burrow into the crook of his neck. You let out a sigh, falling into a false sense of security for just a moment — into a world where Jihoon is yours to be with like this. Your eyes fall shut. You hardly register your own movement until it hits you that Jihoon’s entire body has gone rigid, and your eyes shoot open in a panic. You don’t think you’ve ever done that before – nuzzled into his neck like you belong there.

And now you’re terrified that you’ve finally crossed a line that you can’t come back from.

Another thing that Jihoon allows you to do more than anyone else is initiate physical contact. You’d taken advantage, and lately you’ve been toeing the line of too much. It just feels so easy to do, because you’re so drawn to him, to who he is, to the way he makes you feel — but you know it’s not fair of you. Not when he hasn’t ever expressed feeling the same way, not when he hasn’t ever protested as you go on dates, not when he hasn’t ever initiated anything himself. Jihoon always tells you it’s okay when you’re touchy, that he doesn’t mind it every once in a while, but you can’t help but feel like a complete fool.

He’s not yours, and he doesn’t want to be.

You abruptly feel yourself sober up as you scramble to move away, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“You didn’t have to move,” comes his blunt reassurance, his eyes not leaving the screen of his laptop.

“I know you hate being touchy. I should have asked first. Sorry.”

“You’re always like this, especially when you’re drunk,” he retorts, “I don’t know why you’re only apologizing today.” You can’t help but shrink back against the couch, defeated.

“Sorry,” you say again, your voice small.

Jihoon looks at you then, eyebrows raised in surprise, like he really had no clue you were actually upset. “Hey, it’s okay. I always let you do it,” he adds after a moment.

“Yeah…” You trail off, and you hate the way you sound a bit like a child as you repeat, “but you hate it.”

Normally, Jihoon would ignore your tipsy pouting. He’s usually not the best at reading people – self-proclaimed – but this time, he seems to sense something’s wrong. He searches your face, and when you look away, he gently nudges your foot with his. “I don’t hate it when it’s you,” he says, quiet and serious, and you can feel his eyes still on you.

“Soonyoung and Y/N privilege,” you try to joke as you meet his eyes again, and Jihoon nods slowly. His eyebrows knit together, like he’s trying to figure something out. Whatever it is, you don’t think you want him to. “I’m going to bed,” you say, and he nods again. Neither of you says anything else, but you can feel his eyes following you as you disappear into your bedroom.

It’s not unusual for Jihoon to emerge from his room around midday. What is unusual, however, is for him to be up any earlier than 10:00am. So when you leave your room at 9:30 a few days later only to find him hunched over your kitchen island, to say you’re surprised is an understatement. He’s got a near-full cup of tea in front of him, and he’s staring into the void. He doesn’t turn, even when you clear your throat, and you’re beginning to panic now.

“Jihoon?” Your hand itches to reach for him as you approach, but you don’t. You feel distinctly as though you’re trying not to startle a deer.

“Hm?” The sound of his name seems to finally jolt him out of it, and he turns to meet your eyes. Your heart breaks a little. He looks exhausted — more than usual. There’s something about his face that suggests it’s more of a mental than physical kind of tired, and you want nothing more than to give him a hug.

You tread carefully. “Did you… Go to the gym already?”

Jihoon shakes his head. You didn’t think so, given that he’s still in the shorts and t-shirt he usually sleeps in, but it seemed like a safe enough topic. He says nothing more. Why else would he be up this early? Your brain is running a million miles a minute. Something is clearly wrong, but how can you help?

You’re silent as you go about your morning, making breakfast as usual — except that this time, you make twice as much. When you place two boiled eggs and some cereal in front of him, it takes him a second to react. You try not to flush when you feel his eyes on you as you sit across from him, scrolling through your phone and taking a bite of your own food instead of acknowledging it.

“Thank you.”

You look at him when he speaks. The corner of his mouth is tilted up just so, in that quiet, wonderful Jihoon way, and you can’t help but smile back. “Of course.”

It’s quiet between the two of you as you eat. You try not to think too much about it, but lately, sitting in silence around your friend has been almost unbearable. There’s just so much you want to say, especially after the other night.

“How do you always know?”

You look at him again, eyebrows knitting together as you process his question. “Know what?”

He gazes at you for a moment, and the intensity of it has your neck flushing. Then he looks down at his plate again, and you remind yourself to breathe.

For a second you think that there's something there, something hovering between you. You just don’t know what.

“You always know when something’s up with me.”

You shrug, trying desperately not to show just how flustered you are that he’s noticed. “I’m an empath,” you offer, and Jihoon lets out a soft breath of laughter. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t, and it almost feels like you’re both holding your breath now.

Neither of you had mentioned that night the week before. Though a part of you knows that it’s best to just let it be, another part of you almost wishes he’d brought it up. You’re so in love with him that it makes you nauseous, and you’re so aware of it. He’s all you think about, and you worry that if you don’t say it out loud soon, you’re going to explode during one of these quiet moments. You’ve tried so hard to ignore it, to push it down, but the feelings just won’t quit.

And you have no idea what to do about it.

Y/N [4:12pm]: what’s my favourite music man up to?

You sniffle from your spot on your couch, curled up in your favourite fuzzy blanket. You’re miserable, despite your sunny sounding text. That’s your job, though, isn’t it? To be the happy friend? To pretend everything’s fine when it’s not?

You’d just gotten home from a grueling day at work. You’d been hoping that your roommate was home – not because you’d actually have told him you were upset, but because seeing his face makes your day brighter. But he’s not, and you’re alone.

Jihoon-ah [4:34pm]: working. I’ll be late today

Y/N [4:35pm]: classic jihoon. guess I’ll just eat alone :(

Usually, Jihoon’s short texts don’t bother you, because you know him and you know he means nothing by it. It gets to you tonight, though, because all you want right now is for him to hold you.

You wouldn’t ever ask him for it.

You selfishly wish that he would just know that you need him, but he doesn’t. He’s busy, and he’s not very affectionate at the best of times. The worst part of it all, though, is that deep down, you know he would do anything for you if you asked. But you won’t.

It’s not his fault, you remind yourself. If you don’t tell people what you want, you can’t expect them to know.

You’re in your room a couple of hours later, curled up as you watch an episode of your newest binge. You’d let yourself cry, let yourself feel everything even though it hurt, and now it was on to phase two: distraction.

You’re so enthralled in your show that you don’t even hear the front door open and close. When a knock sounds at your bedroom door, you jump and sit up straight. The knock comes again, and you freeze.

“It’s me.”

Your eyes fall to your phone to check the time. You hadn’t expected him for another hour at least. You get up slowly, grimacing as you pass your reflection in the mirror, and move to open the door. He looks out of breath, almost as if he ran home, his eyes wide and his jacket still on.

“Jihoon?” You blink. “Why are you here? I thought you were working.”

“Can I come in?” He asks instead of answering. You step aside, trying to figure out why he’s home early — and why he’s knocking at your bedroom door. It’s quiet for a minute before you sit back on your bed, gesturing for Jihoon to join you. He does, hesitantly, and the room is so quiet that your heart starts to race a little.

“Is everything okay?”

He takes a deep breath. “Are you…” He winces as he trails off, a hand lifting to run through his hair. He tries again. “Are you having a bad day?”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. “Huh?”

“Seungcheol told me that you were having a bad day.” He looks embarrassed as he says it, and you remember that you’d told your mutual friend about your shitty boss’s latest antics at lunch.

“Oh,” you manage, reminding yourself to scold Seungcheol later.

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to ground himself, and then he’s pushing forward again. “So… Are you? Having a bad day?”

You debate lying so as not to worry him, but he’s looking at you so intently that you just know you can’t. You look down at your hands. “Kind of.” Your voice is quieter now, and you can feel his eyes on you.

“Okay.”

“Yeah.” It’s quiet, and you kind of wish to be swallowed whole.

“I wish you’d told me,” he admits.

“It’s okay. I didn’t want to interrupt your… stuff.”

He shakes his head, almost like he’s frustrated, and you wish — not for the first time — that he was a bit easier to read.

“Your stuff is important to me, too,” is what he finally says, and you can feel how warm your face is getting.

“I know, but it’s okay. It’s nothing big,” you try to reassure him. “I’ll get over it.”

Jihoon hums, and when you look over at him again, you find him with his hands clasped together in his lap as he leans forward. He still seems frustrated, but you’re not sure why. “I came home as soon as he told me,” he tells you, and your stomach flips.

“You didn’t have to—“

“I’m sorry I’m bad at reading between the lines.” His interruption surprises you, and you blink back at him.

“Huh?”

Jihoon sighs, turning his body towards yours. “Even when I don’t tell you, you always know if I’m upset about something. I wish I was better at that, but I just get so focused and I don’t notice things. You know how I am.”

“It’s okay, Jihoon,” you say again. “I can’t expect you to just know how I’m feeling.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly. His gaze on you is intense, his eyes wandering across your face, and you suddenly feel self-conscious. “I guess I just wish that you, and everyone else, would be more straight up with me.”

You bite your lip. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No. Don’t be sorry, just…” He takes in another breath. You’re holding yours. “Can you please tell me next time?”

“I will. I just… don’t want you to worry about me.”

“You don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time,” he says. “Not with me.”

Your heart is ready to beat out of your chest. All you can do is say, “Wow, Jihoon, it kind of sounds like you care about me.”

When he responds easily with, “I do,” your mouth falls open a little.

The soft tone of his voice is so tender, so serious. What surprises you even more is the way he’s avoiding your eyes now, hand scratching at the back of his neck. Is he… blushing?

“I want to be there for you,” he adds a moment later, and you think you must be dreaming. He straightens, meeting your eyes again, and your breath is caught in your throat. He searches your face for a moment before he says, “I’m bad at knowing when people need me. I know that. But I’m telling you that I want you to tell me when you need me, because I want to be there for you.”

“Jihoon…”

“Please tell me you understand what I’m saying.”

The room falls silent. Your mind is running a mile a minute as you process, but you know you have to take the risk — so you do.

Your fingers find his, a slow brush of skin against skin as you wait for him to make the next move. Your heart nearly beats out of your chest when he closes the gap, lacing his fingers through yours, and squeezes.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I understand exactly what you’re saying.”

“And?”

“I care about you too, Lee Jihoon. So much.”

“Yeah?” It comes out as a whisper, and you’re rewarded with a smile when you nod.

“Yeah.” You flush, opening your mouth to speak again, but nothing comes out. Jihoon tilts his head as you play with his fingers nervously.

“What?”

“Can you… Would you kiss me?”

Jihoon’s smile widens, even though you can see the tips of his ears turning red in the dim light of your room. “I can do that,” he murmurs, his free hand finding your face, and your nervous inhale is quieted by his mouth on yours.

It’s gentle and slow. It’s Jihoon, and he’s kissing you, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

When you pull away, you’re blushing. You let your forehead fall forward against his shoulder, and you can feel him laugh as his hand lifts to your back.

“Do you want to talk?“ He asks gently. “About your day?”

You shake your head no, moving back to look up at him as you say, “Don’t worry. My day is much better now.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on pov and idk! Here’s the third of our Thirteen Valentines. Nana Tour!Woozi has ruined my life as much as he has ruined yours. xoxo

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed <3

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars @darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, sorry!)

#woozi fluff #woozi angst #woozi imagine #woozi x you #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen x you #ljhfic #my writing #thirteenvalentines #seventeen fluff #Also yes i changed his song don’t @ me

258 notes · View notes

not-magdi · 7 months

Text

The one bed trope

Summary: Having to share a bed with your best friend because what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

A/N

I didn't do any proofreading because it's way too late for my brain to function so apologies for any mistakes I made.

Between playing for the national team and having to be back in Barcelona, the players got a few days off to recover a bit. And since many barça players also played for Spain, they decided to rent a house and enjoy their little holiday together.

A few players had their partners with them, wanting to spend the little time they had together.

Normally, only girlfriends were allowed on these little get-togethers well, there is one exception.

The one and only Y/N Y/L/N, best friend and obvious secret crush of Pablo Gavi. The two of them met when Pablo threw a ball at Y/N's face and laughed at her as she started crying.

After his parents forced him to apologize to her, the two of them became friends. She started to attend his football games, and he helped her learn for her tests.

Y/N was the first he came to when a game didn't go like he wanted it to, the only one who could calm him down after his temper got the best of him.

Pablo protected Y/N with everything he had. A boy treated her badly? Ohh, believe me, Pablo had his head. She called him crying because school stressed her? That boy came running to her house at lightspeed.

Nothing and nobody could separate these two, they always tried to do as much as they could together. So her going on holiday with him was no surprise.

The Sevillian is currently driving to the airport to pick Y/N up, she is arriving a day later as she could get time off sooner.

Waiting at the arrival hall, a smile grew on his face as he saw Y/N's bright orange hoodie she stole from him and worn religiously for the past 12 years. The ends were starting to frizz and the color was not nearly what it used to be.

A slap on the back of his head rips him out of his thoughts, blinking rapidly he sees the orange hoodie standing before him.

"You back in the real world again?"

"Y-yeah sorry, I'm still a bit tired" Scratching the back of his neck out of embarrassment he answers.

Accepting his answer Y/N engulfs Pablo in a tight hug, hiding her face into his neck. Happy to be back together with her Pablito again.

"I missed you Pablo-Bear" she mumbles into his neck, tightening her arms around him.

"Mhm, missed you too you big teddy"

Pablo hoped Y/N couldn't feel how his heart was nearly beating out of his chest, and how his cheeks were the same color as cherries.

After they were done hugging for about five minutes he grabbed her suitcase and basically dragged her to his car.

"Woah Pablo slow down, nobody is chasing us!"

"I know but I can't wait for you to see the house, it's so beautiful"

Laughing Y/N lets herself be dragged to the car, the touch of Pablo's hand against hers hot on her skin.

They arrived at the house after a short drive, Y/n being completely mesmerized by the beauty of the house, nearly running into a plant pot while staring at one of the big windows.

After greeting everybody, Y/N decided to unpack her things. Following Pablo up to her room she walks in behind him. Confused Y/N looks around the room, seeing clothes scattered around the room.

" Pablo ... am I sharing with someone?"

"Y-yeah um funny story actually ... you're kind of sharing with me"

"O-oh um ok, yeah sure no problem ... but are we sharing a bed too?"

"No! ... well yes! Umm o-only if you want w-we don't have to ... I can totally sleep on the couch if you want"

"N-no ... no problem at all, I mean it's not the first time we sleep in the same bed right?"

It would be the same right?

Well, nothing much changed since then, only the way Y/N's heart jumps every time his brown eyes look at her, or how her stomach feels all warm and fuzzy when she sees his beautiful smile, and the way his eyes shine while he does it.

But hey what could possibly go wrong?

Well after unpacking and meeting everybody at the pool they discussed what they wanted to do for the week. The whole time she could feel Pablo's eyes on her, tracing every move she made.

Now they were all sitting on the outside lounge letting a peaceful day come to an end.

After yawning for the tenth time Y/N decides to call it a day, waking the sound-asleep Pablo who is cuddled up to her she bids the whole group goodbye taking the sleepy boy with her.

Arriving at their room Pablo immediately flops down onto the mattress.

"Pablo come on you need to change you can't sleep in jeans"

"Hmpf nooo let me sleep in peace"

Climbing into the bed next to him she cuddles herself into the blanket. After she feels the bed dip behind her she turns around, only to be met with Pablo already looking at her.

"Goodnight Pablito"

"Night Y/N, sleep well"

Minutes turned into hours and Y/N was still tossing around, not able to fall asleep. Little did she know that on the other side, Pablo had the same problem as her.

Suddenly she feels two arms wrap around her, tightening around her waist.

"I know you're asleep right now and I hope you can't hear me right now but I just wanted to tell you that you have no idea how much you mean to me and that I hope that one day I have the courage to actually tell you how much I love you and not in a friend way. I know you probably don't feel the same but I just have to get that off my chest. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to look you in the eyes anymore."

"Don't worry your secret's safe with me"

"Fuck you're awake ... Y/N I'm so sorry please forget what I said. I don't want to lose you over t-"

Shutting him up with a kiss on his plump lips she leans over wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say this"

"S-so you f-feel the same?"

"Yes, I really really like you too"

Kissing her again the two of them fall asleep together, Pablo having Y/N in his arms, the same since they were kids.

Or was it the same?

No, it was way better this time <3

#pablo gavi oneshot #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #gavi x you

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whispereons · 9 months

Text

Oracle!Reader Part 11

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 10, Part 12

As always this is your warning! This au is dark, violent and sad at times. It's imposter sagau which is already yandere and stuff. Blood, graphic description of violence is in it.

The flower pin was rough under your fingertips as it's stashed away into your bag. A keepsake for Kuan now that the chances of her body being found without life were higher. If not certain already.

"The meeting must have gone poorly to say the least. Treasure hoarders are greedy by nature, they must have spiked the price to insane heights."

Xingqiu pushes the chunks of metal off the road as he comments on his theory. Tracks are slowly revealed leading both ways of the path.

"Which way now? They probably kept the victims together so should we split up or stay together?" Chongyun asks as you all stand together looking at the split path.

Both paths had multiple footprints, but it was hard to tell which were from fighting or fleeing. Xingqiu opens the tracking and hunting book as he flips through it.

"There was a chapter on footprints, it can probably help us know which way to go. And hopefully how long ago too."

Nodding absentmindedly, you carefully step around the tracks and compare the amount of child-sized on the left to the ones on the right. There were at least twice as many on the left than the right.

"Hey Chongyun I think they went left; can you see if the smaller footprints fade out or turn around on the right path?"

"Sure" He's gone quickly and Xingqiu joins you in the left path as he compares the text in the book to what he's seeing.

"The small tracks are digging deeper at the front meaning they must have been running. If they were just fighting, there would have been more of a bump. It would be easier to tell if there was less blood, but our best bet seems to be the left path."

"The left leads deeper into Liyue to the Minlin region, right? That's good since the mountains are too tough to get off the path with that many children but the path leads to Jueyun Karst too."

"Should I even ask how you're so familiar with the Minlin region?"

"Do you really want a repeat of the event earlier?"

"You both better not be fighting again." Chongyun butts in as he jogs back. He's holding something in his hands and stretches them out revealing the item.

"The footprints there were all grown so you were right about it being left Y/N. I also found this Fatui insignia." The blue and gold design of a sergeant insignia was stained with dried blood and dirt.

"I believe there's a good chance that the treasure hoarders managed to escape with the hostages. That would explain why the fatui agent tried to settle a 'debt' with us before."

"Then let's not waste any time, if we don't hurry, they might try to get off the path." Picking up the pace you all follow the left path and keep quiet for any signs of the victims.

As you continue past the scenery and occasional animals your mind lingers on the possibility of them going off the path or not. They definitely could if they knew the area well enough, but something is nagging you that you're missing something.

If the deal went well, the hoarders would have used the cart to drive away. It's doubtful that they would go back to the harbor with their crime so recent but going on the right path wouldn't work either.

The right path would have led them past Wangshu Inn which was like a game over since Xiao isn't all that subtle. Or to Mingyun village which was where the Fatui would have left to. They would have met up in that village and fight there instead of here so that's out too. That leaves only the left path which leads straight to Jueyun Karst.

That would be a bad option but unlike Wangshu Inn that's surrounded by water, they could escape south to the ruins. So, the hoarders would be going left either way. So whatever way they planned on escaping is canceled due to the hostages. Why did you still feel like you were forgetting something?

Your hand tightens around the strap of your bag as the path gets rocky. Maybe if you reread the commission you could remember?

Not slowing down you dig the handbook out and read the commission list. Your eyes stop on the commission that stands out the most.

Full Speed Ahead - The path is needed for a transportation vehicle moving people. Make sure the path is clear within the time limit. Defeating enemies may be necessary.

The path needed is the bridge that leads into Jueyun Karst. The vehicle in the commission isn't specified nor the reason. Did they plan to cross that bridge before escaping through the bottom mountain?

Right now, it was the only idea of what direction they could be taking, you had to get to that bridge. Stuffing the handbook back into your bag, you start to speed up.

"I think I have an idea on where they went! We need to get to the bridge that leads to Jueyun Karst."

The look they shoot you is ignored as you draw closer to the bridge. Even still, they match your pace before you all slow down at the sight of the bridge.

The bridge had multiple slimes crowding it as it swayed at the weight. Wasn't this bridge a safety hazard? Those gaps are big enough that a whole person could slide out.

"I see a group on the other side!" Xingqiu says loudly over the sound of the bouncing slimes. You look where he's pointing and can see a rough group of six people.

Chongyun takes a step on the bridge but is instantly pushed back by the slimes. Frowning he speaks with the slightest hint of worry.

"We can't cross with all those slimes but if we fight them, the bridge might collapse. We would need to go all the way around and that would not only put those people in danger but let the hoarders get farther."

"Then let's think outside the box, who says fighting is our only option?" Grinning with confidence you push past the guys and step on the bridge.

Trying not to look down the bridge you grip the rope tightly and watch the slimes start to crowd you. Unlike with the geovishap hatchlings, you didn't plan to just stay still.

Three cryo slimes tackle your legs at the same time but miss as you dodge it. The slimes fall through the wide gaps giving you more leg room.

With that you begin to quickly pick up the 'safer' slimes like the hydro and geo slimes before chucking them off. You were careful not to let the pyro or electro slimes touch you and simple dodged them.

"What are you two doing standing there?! Come and help me already!"

Your words seem to snap them out of whatever daze they were in before they ran to join you. As vision holders their bodies had some natural resistance to the slime's elemental bodies. You witnessed Chongyun pick up two pyro slimes with ease as you kicked a dendron slime off. He didn't even get a single burn!

The number of slimes dwindled down quickly till there only a handful of hydro slimes. You expected them to try to run away or charge at you but instead they simply circled you before gurgling happily.

Throwing off one of the hydro slimes you finally looked down to see that all the slimes were safely at the bottom. You did have the maximum world level 8 so fall damage must not be enough to kill them.

In your confusion you picked up the next one and bluntly asked. "Do you guys enjoy being thrown off like this?"

It smiled with 'closed' eyes almost exactly like you would see in the game as the last two hydro slimes jumped around happily. You looked up at Chongyun and Xingqiu who gave you an equally confused stare.

Shit this might have been another creator perk. If the slimes don't enjoy being thrown by them, then the guys will start to suspect you again. That means precious time and energy wasted, Yiran can't afford that.

"Can you both check up on the group while I finish these slimes. Clearing this path was also one of my commissions."

Chongyun stops mid-grab before nodding. Xingqiu is unfortunately less cooperative.

"We helped you with your commission, surely you'll let us take some of the prize too."

"Aren't you all for justice and chivalry? It's very unrighteous of you to try and steal from the poor and needy." You respond with a shrug as the last slime gets happily thrown off.

It may come from the perk of being the creator but it's still a bit creepy how much they like being thrown off the bridge. But the slimes are also quite cute, so it's forgiven.

The whole creator cult thing was a different story.

"Well then shouldn't you-" "That's enough, the bridge is clear let's get going."

Cutting off Xingqiu you begin to lightly push him across the bridge. Although he does stop talking, he begins to lean even more on your hands.

Man was he heavy, the game didn't exactly give the best body portions. Xingqiu looked quite slim, but sword training gives muscles and Xingqiu is not exception.

He even had the nerve to take out a book and begin reading leaving you with the job of pushing him.

A nice little prank is schemed as you pushed him quietly to the end of the bridge where Chongyun was waiting for you both.

Chongyun turns in your direction and sighs tiredly at Xingqiu's antics. Xingqiu begins to close the book and you smile secretively. With a quick sidestep, your hands leave his back and he falls backward onto the bridge.

The teens begin to laugh as the adults control their laughter better. You smirk down at the annoyed Xingqiu as he moves his book off his face.

"Since I did the manual labor of pushing you all the way here, I'm sure you'll let me keep the full reward."

"Fuck you" You simply flip him off before turning to the elderly man and adults with a pleasant smile.

"Hello, which one of you had filed this bridge as a commission?" Money came first, you didn't want the commissioner to slip away. You didn't even have to worry about the time limit due to the amount of slimes you had to throw off.

"That would be me, thank you for your work." The elderly man hands you the bag of rewards. You turn around to where Chongyun was helping Xingqiu up.

"You did help so do you want a portion of the rewards?"

"I only accept the base fee for exorcism jobs. It was your idea that made it possible to cross so I don't need any mora." He shakes his head firmly and you nod in acceptance.

More mora for you after all! Pocketing the money, you ignore Xingqiu who's holding out his hand for some of the reward. He tsk'd at your action as Chongyun sighs tiredly at the conflict between you two.

"I do have another commission about a kidnapping case. A group of treasure hoarders kidnapped two adults, some teenagers, and children. We followed the path here, are you part of the group that were kidnapped?" You direct your question to the adults and teenagers as they begin to sigh in relief.

"Yes, but we're only part of the group." The first adult who looks to be an older woman speaks with tears of relief. "After we were taken, we got to a clearing of some sort in Guilt Plains and the Fatui were there. We tried to escape when they began to fight but we were caught."

"When we got to the bridge the slimes were starting to crowd it, so they tied us on the other end and crossed the bridge with the children and a few teenagers. Thankfully Mr. Dao untied us, and we helped him cross the bridge." The second adult a man who couldn't be older than 20 explained with a hoarse voice.

"There's no way we could defeat the hoarders to save the children and the bridge was overfilled with slimes. But not only did you clear the bridge, but you all seem strong enough to save the kids. Please save them, my son is still with them too." The woman clasps her hands with budding tears as she looks at you.

"The information you gave us is invaluable. I can assure you that we'll keep working on this case." Carefully picking your words, you do your best to comfort the mother. Her gaunt figure and poorly maintained features are a clear indicator of her poverty. She's not the first mother you've seen suffer like this in poverty.

"May the creator bless you with luck in all that you do." She whispers pressing her lips against her hands. Muttered prayers are carried by the wind as you begin climbing up the path with the quiet vision holders.

The mood in your group is somber from the earlier conversation. Leaves flutter in the air with the rising height and birds circle the mountain. After crossing a small wooden bridge, you all get to an archway with a blue tile roof, and a large bell hangs motionlessly above. Small statues of frogs litter the area seeming to watch you.

There were also mini stone statues of you too. Fancy clothes adorn the small statues with a matching hat. It was cute but it seemed to remind Chongyun and Xingqiu that you were all entering the adepti area.

They both hesitate at the gate with conflicted expressions. Neither of them have the sigil of permission and you sure as hell don't have one. They probably could enter while you were playing as it was under the creator's command but that didn't apply here.

Even still you grab their hands and drag them past the gate. "Why are you two standing there like idiots? There are children scared out of their mind with no clue on whether help is coming or not."

"This is the home of the adepti, without a sigil of permission we aren't allowed to enter less we face punishment." Xingqiu speaks but he still allows you to pull him.

"What's more important? The lives of innocent children or the privacy of beasts that are meant to protect the lives of people of Liyue which would include those children. If the adepti can't forgive our intrusion, then they are shameful to the creator. And the creator's will overpowers all others."

You release their hands and continue hiking. Both boys walk at your swift pace with a seemingly fond look. It seems that creator perk of them becoming inclined to you is starting to affect them.

After a while you all find a man sitting on a small structure with an axe by his side. The sun is already starting to creep down, but you need a break. Chongyun starts walking to the man but not before saying, "I'll ask him for any information. You aren't used to this terrain yet Y/N, rest up in the meantime."

Were you really that obvious? In embarrassment you pat away the dust and dirt from your clothes. The snicker from Xingqiu makes you glare at him with a flustered face.

"Quit laughing before I push you off this mountain." Your mumble only makes him laugh at you more. Fed up, you shoulder him making him stumble at the unexpected action.

Now annoyed he moves to shoulder you back, but Chongyun is already pulling you behind him.

"Xingqiu can you stop fighting with Y/N?"

"Chongyun it isn't good to misunderstand situations like these. They really started it this time."

"I have no clue what he's talking about. I was tired and started to lean on Xingqiu. It's not my fault he wasn't strong enough to hold up my weight."

Xingqiu chuckles in disbelief at your innocent words as Chongyun shakes his head. "Xingqiu, you can't really expect me to believe you. You do stuff like this all the time to me."

You stick your tongue out at Xingqiu over Chongyun's shoulder as he smiles sharply at you. He silently fumes as you grin mockingly at him.

"Now back to the mission, the man Pan Guan'er is a lumbar jack looking for his axe. He said that he only sat down to rest recently and hadn't seen anyone passing by. We should keep hiking up and maybe we'll find more clues."

Nodding you all keep hiking but again you feel that sense of unease. It seems you aren't the only one as Xingqiu starts questioning Chongyun as you all cross a pond.

"A lumbar jack in the adepti area? How strange. That job requires a lot of strength so what kind of build did he have?"

"He was more on the slender side with muscles on his legs being the most prominent." Chongyun recalls as he stares down at the floor.

Muscles on the legs rather than the arms? There's no way he's a lumbar jack. You turn around first and freeze at the sight of Pan and two treasure hoarders sneaking up.

"Watch out!" One of the hoarders already has a crossbow about to shoot and you react quick enough to tackle both guys to the floor.

An arrow may have only done some damage while you played the game, but this was real life. You weren't sure if you could save either of them if they got hit in a vital spot. Let alone an organ like an eye.

The situation dawns on them as you all scramble up to avoid the attacks coming your way. A masked hoarder begins to load up another arrow as the biggest man charges with a hammer. Pan Guan'er slips a mask onto his face and readies a pair of throwing knives.

Chongyun defends you and Xingqiu from the hammer by blocking with his claymore. The heavy clang and subsequent swings of the hefty weapons in combat let you and Xingqiu go around and battle the others.

Xingqiu follows the crossbow hoarder as he backs away tactically from the agile boy. Your sickle is summoned, and your swing is electro-charged against Pan if that even was his name.

He dodges at the last minute and kicks your side making you bite back the groan. Knives slash at your clothes and are thrown at your neck as you dodge them all while being careful to avoid his legs.

You're unrelenting once you get an opening to attack. The blunt side of your sickle leaves bruises on his body as you cautiously leave shallow cuts. You can't let him die just yet.

The fight is so familiar that your body follows the movements easily. Reminiscent of all the street fights you participated while homeless. It's the jobs from your old boss that would get physical that seem to crowd your mind the most.

The fight is over before you know it with your sickle on his neck keeping him pinned down on the ground. Xingqiu climbs back up with a frustrated expression that softens at the sight of your victory.

"He fell off the cliff while I was chasing him. Who in their right mind backs up without checking?" He sighs as Chongyun comes over with blood staining the end of his pants.

"He lost too much blood and couldn't answer any questions I had. Hopefully, we get more luck with Pan." Pan gulps nervously at the sight of all three of you staring down at him.

"Why did you kidnap those people? What happened with the Fatui? But if you can't answer those questions then you better be able to answer where those children are now." The sickle presses against his neck harder letting a stream of blood trickle down.

"We heard that the Fatui needed people, so we agreed to kidnap some for them! The money they brought wasn't to the bosses liking so we fought. For some reason they retreated, and we took the people here to escape."

"And where are they now?" Pan avoids your eyes as he sweats. If he wasn't going to say more then you'll have to force it out of him. The loud crunch of bones breaking can be heard alongside Pan's screams.

Chongyun lifts his claymore and slams the dull side onto his leg mercilessly. It's surprising to see this sharp chilliness from him but it saves you the trouble.

Pan's arm swings up to hit your side, the knife glinting in his hand as he grunts angrily. "I'm gonna-! Hurk-"

His words are cut off as a sword stabs his arm back into the ground. The blood seeps through and spills onto the grass and pond as tears and snot dribble down his face.

Disgusting

What right does he have to cry? He's not the parent who's worried over their child with a dangerous fate. He's not the child stolen and at the mercy of adults with malicious intentions.

"We split up! I was staying here on Qingyun Peak to throw off any Fatui members that might come while the prisoners were taken to Mt. Hulao!" He sobs out and you draw your sickle back in disbelief.

Mt. Hulao? That was the mountain right across from here! You would have to climb down, cross the river, and then climb back up. They could go anywhere by then!

Shit, shit. What were you supposed to do?

Chongyun and Xingqiu seem just as conflicted as the draw their weapons away. Now free and bleeding, Pan begins to crawl away. Chongyun moves to detain him again, but you stop him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Leave him be, we got the information we needed. Besides, he'll bleed to death before he finds any help."

Xingqiu seems to be deep in thought as he stares off the cliff in the direction of Mt. Hulao. He talks with Chongyun about any possible paths to it as you stand a little farther on the side.

Warily you bring up the game screen and press the map quickly. You didn't have enough privacy or time to control one of your characters to save the children, but you could zoom in on the mountain through the map.

There you spot a flat area on Qingyun Peak facing Mt. Hulao. If you could climb higher, you could glide to the mountain saving loads of time and energy. You let that little flame of hope ignite and close the game window in a hurry.

"I have an idea, you both have gliders, right?" You ask with an excited smile as they nod in unison. Wordlessly they understand your plan and follow you up the mountain.

The path is littered with flat rocks and plants that your feet carelessly trample on. Trees, lamps, and archways are ignored as the sky starts to turn a soft shade of orange. Time is running out.

The clearing comes into view as the amber-imbued mountain stands proudly across. A huge stone circle is nearly consumed by the wildlife as you all walk to the edge.

Red ropes tied to the trees holding small signs are on your left and on the right is a strange device with two of your mini statues guarding it. A mechanical stone doll of yourself stands there with gold rings around the joints. Was that a pull-apart and put-back-together statue of yourself?

This was Moon Carver's Mountain, so it belongs to him. Maybe Cloud Retainer made it for him. You eye the path on the right that leads further up the mountain to his home. It was weird to think that even the high and mighty acting adepti worshipped you too.

The edge of the mountain makes your palms sweaty as you peek down. It's a long drop. Forcibly you activate the glider as Xingqiu and Chongyun stand next to you calmly.

"You look quite nervous Y/N, this must be your first time using one. Did you not get your license?" Too nervous to be annoyed you answer with a chuckle.

"Nope, but what the Millelith doesn't know, won't hurt them. Besides they're pretty crappy anyway." The soft breeze helps cool you down as you stare straight ahead.

"Just hold onto us if you're that nervous. If you're really scared, then I can just carry you." Xingqiu replies as he holds his arms out. It's teasingly in your eyes but he's very serious.

"Can't do that, I have to learn to glide by myself ya'know? But I will take you up on the first offer." You grab Xingqiu's right hand and turn to Chongyun.

His glare at Xingqiu softens when you look at him. Wordlessly with a shy look he holds his left hand out. Internally he's relieved that you didn't accept Xingqiu's offer to carry you. He knows him well enough to know that he was serious about that offer.

Hyping yourself up that this cliff wasn't as terrifying as you thought, you jumped off the cliff gripping their hands tightly. It's just like building parkour, it's just like building parkour. The chant is repeated as you keep your eyes closed from the wind.

"You can open your eyes now, Y/N." Chongyun's calm voice coaxes you as a playful voice continues. "Just don't flail around too much."

Slowly you open your eyes to the sight of the passing birds and Mt. Hulao slowly approaching. The wind is soft as it caresses your face while the wind pushes you all higher into the air.

"As long as neither of you let me go, then this will be a nice and easy flight." You direct your quip to Xingqiu. "And if someone does decide to be a dick then I'll let go of Chongyun and bring Xingqiu down with me."

"Real subtle Y/N."

"Aren't I always?"

"I have to thank the creator for keeping the wind in the direction we need. The faster we get to the mountain, the faster we can search for the kids. Plus, you two can stop fighting for at least 5 minutes."

"Y/N, do you see what kind of bad influence you are? Chongyun never acts this way."

"Don't blame me, it's not my fault he's sick of your antics."

Chongyun sighs softly as you and Xingqiu continue bickering until you all land on Mt. Hulao next to a chunk of amber. You mimic Xingqiu and Chongyun who mutter a prayer of thanks to the creator.

The orange-pinkish hue of the sky is now a soft purple as the amber seems to glow. You knock on the tall amber and listen to the hollowness of the mineral.

"Don't get distracted Y/N! We have to hurry or else they might get away." You jump at the sudden call and catch up with the duo. The cold air is starting to make you a bit cold as you follow the path.

"Isn't it a bit strange that there aren't any monsters here? I mean the adepti wouldn't bother killing elemental creatures or even any monsters unless they actively disturbed them."

"I think that's the answer," Chongyun responds quietly to Xingqiu's question as he points ahead.

Right at the edge of the giant hole in the middle of the mountain was a few bodies. No, a few corpses.

Treasure hoarders lay on the ground, against the wall, and even in the bushes with battered bodies. Claw marks, arrows, puncture wounds, and even arrows are inflicted on the bodies. The only explanation would be that a group of hilichurls attacked them.

Walking closer you touch the blood and let it drip off your finger. "It's cold but not dry. They were here not long ago; they must be up the mountain."

Walking up the mountain with the guys in tow you wipe the blood off on an amber chunk. As you all keep climbing, more and more bodies are found, thankfully none of them are of kids.

As the path turns to stone staircases amber chunks become more frequent. Xingqiu peers into one and bites his lip.

"The amber is also encasing some of the hoarders. That's usually the fate for anyone who climbs Mt. Hulao."

"We should leave them to the creator's mercy. They're either dead or going to die. Not to mention Mountain Shaper isn't known for his grace." Chongyun responds as you glance at the passing amber coldly.

Finally at the top of the mountain you stare at the big trees with burgundy leaves, Cor Lapis are rooted around the trunks. Yelling and crying can be heard as you climb the last few steps to finally see the situation.

Mountain Shaper stands in front of his cave in the usual form of a crane as he stares down at the only standing treasure hoarder. Multiple dead bodies lay in the shallow water as the water changed to red. The hoarder is yelling something but the soft cries on your left are the only thing you hear.

Yiran is kneeling in the water as she sobs clutching a boy's hand. His features so similar to the woman you met at the bridge. Yet the pink hue of the water and dull eyes make your heart clench at having to present her with his body.

"Mortal of treachery, you and your kin invaded my mountain seeking to hide your crime and escape with your lives. Let the amber of my mountain encase you till only dust remains!"

With a flap of his wings, the last hoarder is consumed by amber with a horrified expression clear. You stare in awe at the display of power as the amber crumbles into dust and scatters among the water.

Mountain Shaper turns his attention to your group with irritation. "Intruders left to right. At the very least you three have no scent of corruption and evil, I'm sure you came for the children. The others are on Mt. Aocang under Cloud Retainers care."

The mountain seems to rumble as he walks slowly towards you all with glowing red eyes. "Yet you all trespassed on my and Moon Carver's residence. Foolish and arrogant mortals you all are, your punishment will be swift and painless."

Your heart pounds in your chest as you promptly reply but not toward Mountain Shaper.

"Yiran! Your father Kuan is waiting for you at the city. He's been worried sick about you, he commissioned me to find and save you."

"Really?" She quietly replies, "Daddy sent you? I-I want to go home! I wanna see Daddy!" She sniffles before bursting into tears.

Mountain Shaper stands in front of you with narrowed eyes. "What caliber of schemes did you plan to follow through with such an action?"

"Do you or the other adepti plan to come to the city and find the people those children belong to yourself? How do you plan on calming down traumatized children?" He scoffs at your questions and glowers at you.

"The sole reason I have not imprisoned your form despite your conceited words is due to the scent of Teyvat that surrounds you. Your comrades will care for the children while we can investigate you."

He spreads his wing into Yiran's direction silently commanding the guys to care for her. Warily they move away from you and tend to Yiran trying to calm her down.

"Answer my questions and you and your team may live. Who are you masked trespasser and why does the scent of Teyvat surround you?"

It's strange, why doesn't he recognize you? They never accepted any gnosis so the corruption from Celestia should never have affected them. Nor would they ever forget the elemental worship due to their distaste for human culture, but wouldn't they remind Morax of it too?

The adepti are under Morax's command as they all fought under him. Plus, they must all have their own contracts with him. What if that was the reason? Maybe the corruption affected them on a subconscious level leading them to not realize how they were affected by the gnosis.

"I'm Y/N, and that scent is from my occupation. I'm the creator's oracle and as the creator's vast powers protect me, Teyvat protects me under the creator's orders."

Mocking laughter echoes around the area once you finish explaining. You already expected this reaction, what thousands of year-olds mystical beings would believe a mortal would be made into an oracle? Instead, you focus on Yiran's softening cries as she's comforted by the duo.

They seem to be instructing her to pray to you. Chongyun shows her a form as Xingqiu recites a prayer that goes unheard. It's something about protection, healing, and thankfulness. It almost makes you want to laugh if the situation wasn't so horrible.

"He protected me and now he's dead. It's all my fault, it's all my fault!" She breaks down again during the prayer as they continue trying to soothe her. This memory will stay with her forever, Kuan isn't going to get the same daughter back. If she wasn't traumatized by the kidnapping, this preteen's death will.

Doesn't make it any less fucked up that when something like this happens, everyone's first thought is to pray to you. That's probably why everyone is so fanatic about you. It happens on Earth with minor obsessive religions but here in Teyvat it's widespread.

"Interloper or rather Y/N the teller of falsehoods, the adepti as a group will decide whether you deserve to live in shame or die for your crimes." It's a shame that the fan won't work in this case but that never stopped you before.

"And what about my friends? You said that they may live if I answered, which I did, but I don't believe you're that generous. If anyone must face punishment for trespassing, it should be me as I dragged them along. They're not the ones who are receiving payment, I am."

It was the least you could do, they helped you a lot and they didn't deserve to die for your reckless decision. Even if you don't regret it.

"How noble of you falsifier. Those acolytes may live and bring those children back to their homes. I'll even wrap this body to be presented to whatever careless parent that let their child be taken."

Oh, hell no

"With all the disrespect I can muster, shut your damn trap. What right do you have to speak about careless parents? That boy's mom was taken alongside him, you have no idea what kind of sacrifices she may or may not have made for him! If we're going to speak about carelessness, why don't you explain why all you adepti thought it was right to fill Qiqi with enough adepti energy that it harmed her to such a horrible degree?"

The air went cold and amber rose around you in a cage-like form. He was furious but you were too.

"Oh, I will rejoice once your little story is exposed as the fabrication it is. I'll decide your punishment and seek out how you learned about this. I pray to the creator of all beings that your death will be as painful and long as when I was forced to incase that dying child in amber to prevent her destruction."

His condescending tone is paired with a fiery glare that you deliver right back. Chongyun carries Yiran who passed out from exhaustion. Xingqiu carries the now mummified body of the dead boy with a troubled look.

The heron stands in the middle of the pond and spreads both his wings. The pond alights with yellow and red forcing you to close your eyes.

When your eyes reopen, you find yourself in a different body of water. A small table in the middle, lily pads between the rocks in the water and the multiple eyes staring at you are a near comfort.

What a familiar scenery.

Chongyun and Xingqiu are surrounded by the rest of the missing kids as the stumble from the sudden teleportation. Hurt but thankfully unharmed, the children light up at the sight of the famailair Liyue figures.

Two cranes, a stag, and a very familiar goat-featured lady stand around you. You always wondered how Ganyu's hair stayed in a ponytail look without a hair tie.

"I regret to inform you all that this mortal has claimed to be the creator's oracle."

Shocked eyes are drawn to your imprisoned form with the exception of your teammates. The rising moon seems to shine on the water around you like a spotlight. Your face is neutral as your sharp smile hides in your heart.

Yet another situation where you'll make best with what you have. The more untrusting eyes, the more relief you'll feel when you trick them with convenient words painted under the guise of truth.

It has always been like this, and even if you're sick and tired, you'll still do it. At this point, it's the only thing that you trust. So, you'll keep spouting lies until even you believe them. Besides...

Lying always was your best skill.

I finished!!! There was so many obstacles! My house started going under construction so I took off work and spent this whole week moving stuff. Then moving it back, And then cleaning it. And then restocking it. You get the idea. The beginning of this chap is really rough due to me switching between moving and cleaning plus being a lil rusty. But I think I got back to the flow as it went on. Everything sort of worked out in the end but Y/N just can't catch a break. Now the whole kidnap case seemed maybe random to ya'll but how else was I supposed to bring Y/N into adepti territory? It's a fact that travelers are encased in amber or punished for going to Jueyun Karst. I just hope I fleshed it out enough that it was enjoyable. Oh and that scene with Pan Guan'er was inspired by the actual NPC that sits there. When you walk by, two treasure hoarders spawn behind you. I genuinely think that NPC is sus as hell. I also wanna direct anyone interested in what the mask could look like to this post. The wonderful @the-dumber-scaramouche made fanart of her version of Y/N! It's so beautiful! Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado

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