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ariestrxsh · 1 month

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⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, sneaking around, risky, oral, teasing, degradation, humiliation, edging, orgasm denial, shower sex, creampie, roughdom!matt, brattamer!matt, bratty!reader, enemies to lovers

📝 author's note: 📝 this is part of a series, and here are parts one, two, and three. it's not necessary to read the other parts, but it makes the story better and adds to the dynamic between the characters. 💖 there will be more parts to this.

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You and Matt continue sneaking around right under his brothers' noses despite the fact that the two of you hate each other.

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hatef--k part four

I threw my clothes and my vibrator into my big tote bag, along with a phone charger and some snacks from my pantry. I was still in shock that Matt had seen me packing my favorite sex toy and then relentlessly teased me with it. And the bastard didn't even let me cum.

I angrily stomped to his car and resentfully got into it. I could feel every bump as we drove over it, every vibration from the way the tires hit the pavement beneath us, and it was pure torture as I sat there, unfinished.

"You know, I should tell Nick your water is back on, and you lied to him," Matt broke the silence, clicking his tongue at me and shaking his head. "You won't," I called his bluff. "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?" He narrowed his eyes. "Because you love it when I prance around your house half-naked and tease you until you can't take it anymore. You want me to stay with you guys longer," I told him, reading him like a book. He didn't say anything, but he shot a smile that confirmed my suspicion. All doms are the same. Most of their threats that don't benefit them are empty.

We pulled into the driveway, and as we walked into the house, Matt shut the door in my face again. I rolled my eyes, stopping it with my hand. I set my tote bag down next to the couch in the living room, and when Matt and I stepped into the kitchen, we were greeted by Chris who was home attempting to make pancakes, but instead of flipping them with a spatula, he was flipping them into the air and trying to catch them in the frying pan. "Chris! You're making breakfast for four people. We don't have pancakes to waste," Nick scolded him, pointing the spatula at him.

"Good to see you guys survived the night alone together. I thought, for sure, based on how pissed Matt was about you staying here, he was gonna choke you out or something," Chris joked, cracking open an egg into a bowl. "Yeah, he tried, but he was too much of a bitch to finish the job," I smirked at Matt.

"Do either of you want coffee?" Nick offered, holding up a french press. "Yes, please," Matt and I both responded in unison, but we both shot each other a glare, resenting the other for answering the same way. Nick poured us each a cup of coffee, and we all fixed our plates and sat around the kitchen table together. "You guys really are the nice ones. Thank you so much for making breakfast for us," I said. It was a compliment to Nick and Chris, but even more than that, it was a slight towards Matt. I was still very angry about the sex toy incident.

"Of course. Anytime. You're our guest," Nick replied. "So what did you guys do last night when you had the house to yourselves?" Chris said before taking a bite of his hashbrowns. Matt and I shot each other a glance. "I watched The Bachelorette," I told them, taking a sip of my coffee. "And I played video games in my room," Matt said without looking up from his food. "You mean, you guys sat on opposite sides of the house.. and ignored each other?" Nick questioned, looking skeptically at us. "I find that hard to believe because any time you two are in the same vicinity, you pick on each other," Nick said with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, well when I went to shower.." I started to say, but then I stopped myself. Matt delivered a swift kick under the table and hit me in the shin. "Oh, just for that, I'm telling them," I looked towards Matt and then I turned to his brothers, "Matt thought it would be funny to take my towel amd hide it while I was showering." I took a sip of my coffee and looked back over at Matt, who was looking at me like he wanted to kill me. Please punish me for that one later, I silently begged him with my eyes.

"Matt! What the fuck?" Nick asked with a look of disgust. "Bro, that's weird," Chris shook his head. I secretly liked embarrassing Matt in front of his brothers and getting them both on my side. It was as harmless as Matt taking my towel and my clothes, right? "It's fine. He gave it right back to me," I told them, smiling and taking a bite of my eggs.

We continued to eat our breakfast, and once we were done, Chris volunteered Matt and me to clean up since he and Nick made breakfast. I was happy to oblige, considering the boys were being so kind and letting me stay with them, and Matt begrudgingly agreed. "Plus, it'll give you guys more alone time together, so you can hopefully overcome your differences," Nick chuckled. Little did he know, the only time Matt and I could ever overcome our differences was long enough to fuck each other's brains out. Chris and Nick both headed upstairs, leaving Matt and me in the kitchen by ourselves.

Matt immediately backed me up against the counter and got into my face. "You like making me look like a fucking perv in front of my brothers, huh?" He growled quietly next to my ear, while he started to take his hand and press it against my mound. "You are a perv," I shot back. "Yeah, but you fucking love it," Matt gruffly said, applying more pressure. I could feel the edge of the counter digging into my back as Matt fondled me. I could feel myself growing weak.

"Let's get these off of you, you little whore," Matt grumbled while he started to pull down my pants. I was still wet from the vibrator incident earlier. He picked me up by my waist and set me on the counter. I felt the cold, hard granite underneath me as he placed me. He looked up intently into my eyes as he got down onto his knees, wrapped his strong arms around my thighs, and held them apart further.

I watched in anticipation as he flattened his tongue and started tickling my clit with it. I tried to seem like I wasn't dying for it, but I couldn't keep my equanimity. My moans got away from me with every stroke of his remarkable tongue. His soft lips engulfed me, and he hummed against my favorite nerve endings while I watched his eyes roll back as he savored my taste. I secretly loved the way he ate pussy, like he wanted it, like he needed it. "Mmmm. You're such a naughty girl. You're loving this, aren't you?" He said, his lips vibrating against my sex. "Not as much as you," I joked. He started to gently nibble on my clit, and I started tugging on his hair. My legs locked around his head as he worked wonders with his mouth below my waist.

"You like it when I eat you while my brothers are upstairs? They could come down any minute and catch us," he muffled against my pussy. All I could do was nod and bite my lip as I tried to suppress the sounds I so desperately wanted to let loose. "Slut. I bet if Nick and Chris walked down here right now and saw what we were doing, you'd squirt all over my tongue, wouldn't you, used up little whore," he smirked. And he was right. The idea of being caught was enticing. I felt like I was at the edge of more than just the countertop, but before I could enjoy the sensation and fully sink into it, Matt was pulling away.

"No, no, no," I whined, gripping his locks of hair. "Please don't do this to me again," I begged him, chasing the feeling of his tongue, desperate for sweet release. He looked up at me, taunting me. "Not after you were such a bad girl for tattling on me to Nick and Chris," he grinned menacingly. His mouth glistened from nearly devouring me. "I'll do anything," I pleaded. "Yeah, anything but behave," he scolded me, bringing himself to his feet and wiping his face.

"You can finish cleaning the kitchen. I'm gonna go play video games," he replied, handing me back my pants. "The fuck I am. You're not gonna help me clean?" I angrily shot back. "No, and if you tell Nick or Chris that I didn't help you, I'll make sure they accidentally stumble upon your vibrator while you're here," Matt sneered. "Fuck you, asshole," I said under my breath as Matt was walking away. He immediately turned back around and brutally grabbed me by the neck. "Keep going and I won't let you cum tonight either," he snarled.

"And clean your pussy juice off the counter. People cook there," he said to me as he released me from his intense grip and disappeared out of the room. I quickly put my underwear and pants back on and finished cleaning the rest of the kitchen.

"So, how was cleaning the kitchen with Matt? Did you guys bond?" Nick sat down on the couch next to me several hours later while I was curled up scrolling on my phone. "Yeah, something like that," I blankly answered. "What's wrong? I can tell something is up with you," Nick replied. Oh, you know, Nick, your brother just keeps edging me and then ruining my climax. That's what's wrong. But of course, I couldn't say that, so I settled for a dramatic sigh and instead said, "You know, I'm just getting impatient with this whole water situation. You guys are really great for letting me stay here. I just can't help but feel like I'm intruding on your space."

"We want you here, silly. Even if your water weren't out, we'd probably still be hanging out with you," Nick reassured me. And it made me feel bad about lying in the first place. We sat next to eachother, laughing at memes until the sun started to set.

"It's getting late. I'm gonna start getting ready for bed," I relayed to Nick. We stood up and hugged each other. I thanked him again for his kindness, and he thanked me for my company. "By the way, I'm sleeping down here on the couch tonight. You can have my bed again," Nick offered. I couldn't let him. Not when I knew I'd be sneaking into Matt's room and falling asleep next to him anyway. "Nick, you're too sweet. But really, I think we should make Matt sleep down here and I can take his bed. Payback for him being a dick last night," I gave Nick a really sincere face. "That's a great idea actually," Nick's face lit up. "Don't worry, I'll tell him," I smiled.

I made my way to the bathroom with my towel, my clothes, and my vibrator. I started running the shower and once the water was hot enough to get in, I stood beneath the stream of warmth, vibrator in hand. Overcome by the incredible feeling of finally releasing pressure that had build up all day, I didn't even hear Matt come in until he was pulling back the curtain. My eyes shot open and I scrambled to shut off my toy.

"Awh. Trying to finish without me?" Matt chuckled, standing in front of me completely naked. "What are you doing?" I whispered to Matt, covering myself with the shower curtain. Bastard ruined my orgasm again. "I came to shower with you," he smiled. He got in and immediately pushed me up against the shower wall. "I think I've been keeping you waiting long enough," he gruffed into my ear as he propped my left leg onto the side of the tub.

He lined up his hardening cock with my entrance and inserted it in a brutal manner. I let out a small yelp as I felt him start violently bucking his hips. "Take my cock, you little whore," he rasped while my walls stretched around him. He grabbed onto my hair and yanked it hard while his cock grew to its full potential.

"Hey, sorry to bother you while you're showering, but did you see Matt anywhere before you got in?" Nick asked poking his head in through the bathroom door. "No, I didn't," I responded, biting my lip to hold back another satisfied sound and trying not to blow our little secret behind the shower curtain. "Have you noticed he's been acting strange lately?" Nick pondered out loud while Matt pounded into me from behind. "Stranger than normal? Kid's a freak," I snarked, and Matt started to fuck me harder for the jab I made at him to Nick, and he held his hand over my mouth to shut me up.

"Yeah, I've noticed he's been kind of distant from Chris and me, and he's been even meaner to you than normal. I just worry he may be going through something," Nick responded sounding worried. Oh, he's going through something alright, I thought to myself as Matt bottomed out in me, thrusting against my gspot with incredible force.

"If you see him, will you let him know I'm looking for him?" Nick asked, but while Nick said this Matt was whispering into my ear quietly enough for only me to hear, "Cum on my cock, you naughty fucking whore," while he released his hand from my mouth so I could respond to Nick. "Yes, Matt," I slipped up. My eyes widened when I realized my error. "Did you just call me Matt?" Nick inquired, chuckling. "Sorry, Nick. I mispoke," I held myself together long enough to correct my mistake.

Just then, Matt reached up and covered my mouth with his palm again, grabbing me even more roughly than before while we came in tandem, both our orgasms tearing through us silently. My eyes rolled back, and it took everything in my power to not scream Matt's name while I throbbed around him. Matt's cock twitched, depositing his seed inside of me while Nick stood in the doorway telling me to enjoy my shower and giving me shit for calling him the wrong name. When we heard the door shut and Nick leave, Matt chuckled and said, "You're so hot for finishing on my cock while Nick was in the room. You're such a naughty girl."

"You're hot for making me wait so long for that. By the way, Nick and I talked about it. I'm taking your room tonight. Have fun sleeping on the couch," you smirked back at him breathlessly while the two of you finished your shower.

taglist: @sturniolo-girl @st9niolos @theyluvme-2315 @luvs4matt @ribread03 @slutforsturnioloss @thepubeburgler @schlutt4matty @valkatriee @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @witchofthehour @alexisxena

part five posted here 💖

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic

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angelicblondie · 27 days

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high infidelity (pt 2)

enemy!luke x princess!reader (MDNI) warning: cheating (not ok at all), smut note: finaly done! thank you for the patience on this! it took me soooo long for some reason so im so sorry! but with that being said, i really hope you all enjoy 🤍 ⋆⑅ೀpart oneೀ⋆⑅

you hadn't properly spoken to luke in exactly 2 weeks. 2 weeks since you threw your coffee all over him at breakfast, 2 weeks since you spent the whole day cleaning camp with him, 2 weeks since you kissed him, and 2 weeks since you slept with him.

eventful day, huh?

after luke had cleaned the two of you up, you had promptly (and awkwardly) showed yourself out, sliding back on your underwear and running back to the beach for your clothes. you thanked the gods that everyone was at the campfire and no where near you and luke, otherwise they would have caught you in a very compromising position.

after redressing, you rushed to the rest of the campers, taking a seat next to alex. your boyfriend.

wow, what a good girlfriend I am, you thought sarcastically.

alex turned towards you, placing a firm kiss on your cheek. "hey babe, where were you?"

you loosened up your limbs trying to appear casual. "I had to finish off some cleaning with luke." you stated, forcing your voice to sound a bit annoyed at the mention of the raven haired boy.

alex sighs. "i know you don't like him babe, but what happened at breakfast was....a bit much, no?"

you bite your lip. "i know, i know, trust me."

his fingers twirl a bit of your hair, and his eyes narrow. "why is your hair wet?"

you blink, thoughts running wild to formulate an answer.

"i think im done cleaning," luke stated, tossing his shirt to the sand and unbuttoning his shorts. you turned to look away, fearing a blush would coat your cheeks at seeing his near-naked form.

you could hear the smirk in lukes voice as he talked, and you turned back to see him just in boxers, walking backwards towards the water.

"gonna take a dip, if you wanna join."

his words were enticing, and you still couldn't figure out why. despite yourself, you slowly peel of you clothes, curious as to where this was going. with a new found sense of confidence, you walked towards the water, locking eyes with luke, who was eyeing your body, and the thin, lacy garments covering you privates.

you held back a shudder of the memory from before, and forced a annoyed look on your face.

"luke threw water on me at the beach." you lied.

alex scoffed. "what a dick, huh?"

you nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder. "yeah, a huge dick."

you winced at your words, because they were true in all senses. you almost laughed at the irony - you had just slept with him and were now talking to your boyfriend about how he's a huge dick. beautiful.

in truth, you felt beyond guilty. here alex was, so sweet and caring, and you had just cheated on him. it was so out of character, especially given your hatred for luke - it was out of the blue.

you regretted it. bad.

but why did that idea fill you with even more guilt?

not long after you arrived, luke had showed up, going over to sit with his siblings.

he glanced in your direction, noticing that you were next to alex. feeling his gaze on you, a part of you wanted to detach from your boyfriend - a small part, but still a part.

and besides, even if that part of you was bigger - that part that quite enjoyed your time with luke over the past hour - it would never work. odds are, you were just a one and done for him. he messes around with girls all the time, its wasn't worth loosing your relationship with alex over.

so at that moment, especially when you saw luke begin to flirt with a girl from demeter cabin, you decided you would forget you and luke castellan ever happened, and you would devote your time into making your relationship with alex work.

because it was the right thing to do.

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like stated, it had been 2 weeks since your...encounter, with luke, and safe to say things have gone mostly back to normal.

mostly.

the days were mostly the same. you spent time with your siblings and friends, and of course, your boyfriend. you trained the younger campers, you dueled with your peers, and you lead your cabin in all duties, being the head councilor alongside your sister silena.

you relationship with alex felt as if it had only strengthened in the couple of weeks - you had been pouring so much more energy into the the two of you, and if felt good to be investing into something that was good for you.

and besides, you were filled with immense guilt for what happened with luke - the least you could do was spend a little extra time with alex.

so yeah. the days were mostly back to normal.

the nights, however, had changed.

instead of being plagued by usual demigod nightmares, you had been burdened with far worse - dreams of luke.

you were angry, internally blaming it on him, even though you knew rationally, he couldnt have anything to do with it.

you were the issue.

whether you were trying to or not, you were the one dreaming of him. you were the one that as soon as you closed your eyes, you were back in cabin one, underneath him, writhing in pleasure.

you wished there was some sort of therapy at camp, so someone could tell you what the hell was going on.

you knew you didn't like luke - since the moment you met him, in fact, you hated him. the two of you never got along, always competing to be best, always finding ways to get under the others skin. you didn't like him, and he didn't like you.

so it was attraction - simple as that. just because you hated him with your gut, doesn't mean you couldn't find him hot. because he's objectively hot. it would be suspicious if you said he wasn't hot, because everyone knew he was.

so, you could admit that to yourself - that you found him very attractive, but you could never see anything with him. thats why it didn't matter - because theres nothing of substance. with alex - he genuinely cares about you, and you feel safe with him. luke would only ever disappoint you.

but you couldn't deny that lukes surprising warmth was unforgettable. that his lips and skin were shockingly soft, that his voice when quiet and breathless was enough to send shivers down you spine even now, that when you were with him in that state he was all consuming...

you couldn't deny that his touch was electric, lighting a spark in you that you didn't know was there. that his teases weren't aggravating that one late afternoon when he had you, in fact, they only spurred on your need for him. you couldn't deny that despite yourself, the intimacy of the moment you had wasn't lost on you - the way he demanded you look in his eyes the whole time, the way he joked with you and cleaned you up after, even his dirty teases about what your boyfriend would think if he found out - you remembered it, no matter how much you wish you didn't.

you cringed when you remember your own words from that night.

"bet he could never make you feel this good, could he?" luke had asked, his voice teasing and of course, knowing.

you repeatedly shake your head, your words coming out all jumbled together. "no, never, only you, luke," you cried.

"s'that right, princess? only me?" you almost regretted your words, seeing how much it seemed to have grown his ego, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care all that much when he was making you feel so good.

you nod, whimpering as your cunt clenched around him, biting your lip to hold back any more sounds.

you had essentially told him that it was only luke who could make you feel that good, that he was better than your boyfriend.

yikes. it wasn't a good look, especially since you were still with said boyfriend.

you could excuse it, say it was heat in the moment, but in truth, in that moment you meant it. you rarely say things you don't mean, and even if you tried to lie, you knew the truth - you knew that it wasn't a fabricated statement.

you also couldn't pretend that you hadn't seen him looking at you, very often as of late. you'd be at the volleyball court, messing around with your siblings, when you felt his hot gaze on you. you turn to look, seeing him with his own siblings from afar, staring heatedly at you. you would swallow nervously, you body feeling hot, before returning your attention back into the game.

you werent sure why he was pressed - you had assumed he would've been fine with it - getting it out of your system once and then going back to normal.

but nothing between you two in the past couple of weeks was your normal.

you and luke, as always, taught the younger campers a sword fighting class. you had been teaching this together for years, chirons reasoning that you two were the strongest sword fighters in camp, and it would be a shame not to utilize that. the two of your egos had been too stroked to disagree, despite your dislike for the other.

but now, after what happened between you two, you regretted that design greatly.

things were beyond different between you two now. instead of teases and jabs, from luke you were given intense glares and knowing smirks. when the two of you were demonstrating, it was impossible to focus, having to look luke in the eye after what happened between the two of you felt like hell. your cheeks grew rosier the more his lips tilted up into a simper, and your body felt hotter whenever his fingers grazed on you waist to show "correct stances" to the kids.

you felt so angry with yourslef for letting him have this effect on you - you had promised yourself to forget what happened between the two of you, but it was hard when he made you feel so helpless.

it was even worse when you got caught staring at him instead of the other way around - humiliating, even. he would meet your intense gaze, his eyes filled with a rare sense of seriousness. you would look away, embarrassed to be caught, but you would feel his gaze on you for a long time after.

you remembered one night when his stare was far too compromising.

it was about a week ago, aka, a week after the two of you slept together, and alex was walking you back to your cabin after a long day.

"you tired?" he had asked warmly, hodling both your hands as you stood in front of you cabin.

you nodded, a small smile on your lips. "yeah, long day."

he nodded in agreement, before stepping close to you, his lips tilting up. "can i give you a kiss?" he asked.

you internally winced. why did he ask? he was your boyfriend, he shouldnt have to ask to kiss you!

luke certainly didn't.

you shook that thought away before forcing a smile on your lips, nodding softly before leaning in to meet his lips.

kisses with alex were always slow - not that you didn't like slow kisses, but it was all the time - there had to be some sort of diversity.

with luke, there were moments where your lips moved sensually, before speeding up to be more intense. there was moments where he kissed you passionately and deeply, before pulling his lips away, teasing you, leaving you wanting more. it was electric, addictive, even.

luke-why were you thinking about luke right now? you were kissing your boyfriend, and you should be thinking about him, alex, not luke. you felt a prickle on your arms, goosebumps rising, as you flutters your eyes opened slightly.

from afar, you could see luke, leaned out front of his own cabin, watching you guys.

you wondered if you should've felt disgusted, annoyed even - but you were filled with shock.

alexs' lips trailed down to your neck and you gasped, him smiling into your skin. he thought you were gasping for him, he thought you were pleased with his lips.

when in reality, you were reacting to a whole different man.

staring at luke from across the way, your mind could trick you into thinking it was him doing this to you - him holding your waist tightly, lips sloppily trailing kisses along your neck. even though alexs' lips felt much different, you could pretend.

luke watched, his arms crossed, serious gaze softening into a smug expression. he knew. he knew you were thinking about him, he knew you couldn't stop thinking about him - he knew. somehow, he knew.

so anywayse, to summarize the past 2 weeks:

hell. absolute hell.

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"alice, make sure to keep your feet planted, its easy for your opponent to knock you down if your balance is unsteady"

you heard lukes instructions from afar as your bent in front of layla, a young athena camper, putting a bandaid on her knee.

"why do you and luke not fight anymore?" layla asks innocently.

you look up to here, surprised by her question. you laugh breathily. "um, i dunno, layls. we just don't."

she huffs, wincing when you place the bandain on her cut. "yeah, but you guys barely talk, as well."

you blow out a breath of air, ignoiring her interrogation. "all done. why dont you go join the others?"

she pouts, but does as you say, running back over to her sparing partner as you stay where you stand, overseeing the practice.

you feel the space fill up next to you and you don't have to look to know its luke.

"ben is getting better," he comments, referring to your younger brother. you hum in agreement. "yeah, he just need to be more confident in his moves and then he'll be on a good path."

he hums, and its silent for a moment as you two watch your students.

"listen, i have some changes i want to make to next classes schedule," luke says, breaking the silence. his voice was casual, yet his lips were tilted up in a faint smirk.

you turn to look at him, furrowing your brows. "ok..." when he doesn't say anything, you huff. "go ahead."

he chuckles. "nah, i mean, its too long of a conversation, and class is almost over."

you purse your lips. "ok, fine, then after class."

he hisses in a breath of air. "i'm busy all afternoon," he excuses, faux apologetic. you narrow your eyes. what is he playing at ?

you let out a scoffed laugh. "ok, so when?"

he shrugs. "does after dinner work?"

you fold your lips inwards. you weren't so sure about that. alone, when its dark, with luke? cant be a good idea. but there was no other time to do it, and you knew he wouln't take no for an answer.

"fine," you say curtly after a moment.

he grins. "perfect. meet at the dock, then."

and thats exactly what you did. after finishing up your dinner, making sure all your sibling got ready for bed, you snuck out to the dock.

you saw luke already seated there, and when he heard your footsteps, he whipped his head around, his lips tilting up. "ah, there you are. almost thought you werent coming."

you walk over to sit next to him, yet far enough away. "so, what did you want to talk about?"

he chuckles, leaning back on his hands. "oh, theres tons i want to talk to you about, princess."

you clench your jaw, your cheeks getting a bit rosy. "i meant about the schedule for next lesson."

"oh, right," he sits up a bit, "i think we should change the demonstration to before they start practicing instead of after."

you blink. seriously? couldnt he have just said that earlier? "is that all?"

lukes eyes grow mischievous. "no, actually. i think you should bring your little boyfriend - think it would be fun for him to watch us spar, no?"

you purse your lips, immidiately filled with anger. "stop that."

he throws his hands up in faux defense. "woah, calm down princess. was just an idea."

you roll you eyes, scoffing. "i knew it was a bad idea to come here."

you begin to stand up, but he grabs your wrist. "no. c'mon, stop that," he snickers a bit. "i was just messin with you."

his voice came across a bit soft, and you couldnt ignore the fluttering in your stomach. you stay seated, looking over at him. "whats the real reason you asked me to come out here?"

lukes jaw clenched, and he looked out into the dark water of the lake. the vibe between you two darkened, as did his expression. "you cant just pretend it didn't happen. thats not how it works."

you face fills with shock, his switch in demeanor catching you off guard. he seemed...frustrated, frustrated that you hadn't acknowledged what happened between the two of you.

you swallow nervously. "it was a mistake," you say, but your voice betrays you, coming out quiet and unsure.

luke scoffs. "nothing you do is a mistake, princess. you always know what your doing."

"yeah, well, i didn't in that moment, obviously," you bite your lip. this didn't feel like you and luke - the two of you were being oddly vulnerable, you weren't necessarily fighting - sure you were frustrated, but it wasn't like you were throwing petty insults at the other.

"i..." you start, but have trouble finding you words. "look, i had a good time with you" you admit, your voice quiet. you don't dare to look at luke. "and it was all...really good. but it cant happen again. i've already done enough to betray alex, when he's been nothing but good to me. and-and im a relationship girl, luke. thats something you could never give me."

lukes jaw clenches. alex? nothing but good to you? so you dont know about how he bragged to a bunch of the guys about your body, about how you had given into him? so you dont know that alex had said disgusting things about you, vulgar things?

instead of saying this, he turns to you. "who says i couldn't give you that?" he asks, his voice quiet and low.

you blink, turning to him. you checked his eyes for the truth, and saw nothing but sincerity in his words. shock ran through you. you had no idea he was actually interested in you - you had just assumed he was purely attracted to you, and that was it.

it was like a gate you had forced yourself so seal shut had been cracked open. you had made yourself not even entertain the idea of more with luke, assuming that he would never even think of it. but knowing that he had - that changed everything.

you allowed yourself to consider it, truly consider it. the idea of being with luke. you didn't push it away.

you were brought back to the soft but firm touches, the intimate eye contact, the way he made you feel so special that night 2 weeks ago. you enjoyed it, you know you did, even if you tried to pretend it didn't happen.

but then you remembered alex - sweet alex, who was waiting at the campfire for you after you had fucked luke. gentle alex, who never rushed you, and was respectful.

alex always felt safe.

but what if you didn't want safe?

the silence had consumed the two of you - the only sound that could be heard was the chirping of crickets and the gentle summer breeze. the eye contact you two held was intense - your eyes were glazed over in thought - you both were thinking hard in that moment.

you don't know what possessed you to do it. the moment felt so intimate and private, and he was right there, in your grasp. your hand went out to delicately cup his face. his brows furrowed a bit, confused and a bit surprised by your touch.

you bite your lip. "do you mean it? that you could give me that?" you asked, you voice the softest it had probably ever been with him.

you words were so vulnerable, it caused his heart to clench. after a moment he nods. "i want to. i want to give that to you."

before you knew it, your lips were crashing into his. luke reacted instantly, one hand holding the back of your head and the other cupping your cheek.

you were brought back to the moment where you two kissed at the beach, but this felt a lot different. there was hint of desperation then - you two weren't sure how long it would last, what it meant, even how you were feeling - now, everything was more sure.

you had him now, and he had you.

he pulls you close, and you swing your legs around him, straddling his waist. his hands slide down your waist, squeezing a bit to pull you closer to his chest. you arch into his touch, pressing your chest against his and your hands slide into his hair.

once you start getting breathless you pull apart, panting against his lips.

luke grinned tiredly, and it was so contagious you smiled back.

"let me sneak you into my cabin," his swollen lips practically whisper.

you bite your lip unsurely. "i dunno...what about your siblings?"

he scoffs a bit, as if you said something funny. "they'll be out by now. besides, we'll be quiet"

that was enough to convince you, and before you knew it, his hand in yours, he dragged you over to his cabin, opening and shutting the door quietly, tiptoeing to his bed.

luke sits down first, opening his legs and looking up at you, signaling you to sit down on them. you straddle his lap, cautiously looking around the cabin as luke began to nip at your neck, forcing quiet, breathy hum out of your lips.

he pulls you down, covering you both in blankets, as his lips attack yours. you fall into a steady rhythm, hands exploring each others bodies, breathing heavily into each others mouths. you pawed at his chest. "more," you whisper pleadingly.

"more?" he asks tauntingly. "y'want more? more of what, princess?"

you whine quetly. "of you, luke, please?"

without another words he pecks you chin with a mischievous smile, disappearing under the covers. your filled with anticipation before you feel him lift your shirt up, placing kisses all along your torso.

you bite you lip, holding back the noises that you desperately wanted to release, as you felt his lips move lower and lower.

you wished you could see him, so you ducked under the covers, the duvet just thin enough that moonlight was able to peak in. you could see the shadows of his face, and he looked devastatingly handsome.

he smiled against the skin of your inner thigh, his lips peppering a few kisses there. he moved up, right against your denim shorts, playing with the button and zipper. after a bit of teasing, he slid the down, collecting them in his hands to climb up over you, sliding them under his pillows. he placed a delicate kiss on your lips, before whispering, "is this ok?" against them. you nod feverishly, and he smiles so soft you wonder why you've yet to see this side of him.

he moves back down, his lips against the cotton of your panties, hands holding you hips. just his breath against you was enough to make you feel light, and pool wetness. he place a sweet kiss directly over you clit and you shivered, hands moving to his hair.

"j'wanna make you feel good, princess." he says so quietly you almost miss it. your heart thunders in your chest as he presses more kisses over your panties, his hands sliding down to toy with fabric on yours hips.

"please, luke." you whisper pleadingly, and he gently shushes. "shhhh, its ok, let me handle it. just lay back and take it, hm?"

you nod, your face twisted in want as you relax you head, letting it rest on the pillow.

luke gently tore your panties off, letting them pool at your ankles as his middle finger slows runs down your center. you shiver, and he places a disciplinary hand on your hips. "stay still," he instructs, his finger still gathering your wetness.

his digit pushes into your tight entrance, causing you to swallow a whimper. you shut your eyes, hands gripping his hair.

he places a soft kiss on you thigh, mumbling incoherent praises against your skin.

he slowly moves in and out of you, before his lips press a kiss on your clit again. you jump, gasping quietly as he begins gently sucking.

with his digit fingering your fluttering walls, and his lips slobbering over you pussy, you swear you've never felt such pleasure. its hard to keep quiet, and your surprised you do (not counting the occasional gasp or quiet hums of pleasure).

luke is having way to much fun. you can feel him smirk against you when you let a little noise slip, and you can feel him silently laughing when his tongue flicks over your bud, knowing you would go crazy.

he adds a second finger, and before you know it, a third. every second your coaxed further into your orgasm, and you know he can tell, by the way your pulling his hair to push him closer to your core, and the way your back arches off the bed.

when he does finally bring you too your peak, you bite your lips so hard your surprised it doesn't bleed. your hips stutter against his hand, and his digits inside you slow down, moving you through your high. once you catch you breath, he gently brings your panties back up, placing a kiss over the fabric, before climbing back up.

he kisses you softly, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. he breaks away, the two of your heads peaking out of the blankets.

"good?" he asks quietly and softly, lips red and swollen.

you giggle a bit. "more than good." your hand runs down his chest. "want me to return the favor?"

he shakes his head. "another time, princess."

you pout. "are you sure? i dont mind."

he shakes his head again. "nah. tonight was about you. we have all the time in the world for that."

and it was true, you did. that night 2 weeks ago was the start to something beautiful, and tonight was the real start of you - you and luke.

#xoxo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #luke castellan fic #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #lukexreader #princess!reader #luke x princess!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan pjo

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14dayswithyou · 2 months

Note

This Angel has another question! \o

{For those of you who haven't played the game yet this may be a little spoilery}

So I just saw the relationship charts you made about how the characters feel about each other and when I saw that Olivia was in love with REDACTED I almost choked on my hot chocolate X∆X like wha?? I get that she like, liked him and stuff when she saw him in the store (like you said love at first collision) but love?? Damn (although I guess I shouldn't really be too surprised, we fell pretty fast for him too lol)but like does she still love him even after what he said to her at the store?? Cuz when we met her again at the apartment (if I remember correctly) she didn't really seem all that interested in him more annoyed or something or maybe she was just annoyed with us?? Cuz he went with us instead of her after completely shutting her down??(Sorry I can't recall much about that interaction in the complex, I know she said some stuff about him but I can't remember what)

Also is there a reason why her love was aimed (the red line in the chart) at REDACTED and not Ren? Or am I just overthinking this, like it doesn't matter because they're the same person. Sorry that this is a bit long I had to get it off my chest 😅

✦゜ANSWERED: Olivia and [REDACTED] have met before!! The souvenir shop wasn't their first meeting, and Olivia has a lot more going on with her backstory!!

But!! As for Olivia's feelings towards Ren (not [REDACTED]), she's the type of person who falls for someone hard and fast and can drop them just as quickly. She's very wishy-washy(?); one minute, she'll be obsessed with someone, and the next, she'll act as if they didn't exist.

I'd like to say that Olivia is still attracted to Ren — but it's very on-and-off. She's also into Teo as well!

#💌 — answered.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#sleepyue00 #💖 — about olivia.#💖 — about ren.#💜 — blog canon.#<- game canon too but it won't ever be explicitly mentioned/explained

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florenceafternoon · 13 days

Text

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

I've also seen a lot of people asking for 6/7th year jily so I tried to include some. These fics explore how much they've grown in that period between the end of school and the rising tensions of war.

Of course, I've also included fics with marauders shenanigans. As always, these fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries.

Death and Other Inconveniences by @asteriaem

When James Potter disappeared for ten days in the middle of the spring term of their fifth year, the whole school noticed. He buried his parents in a quiet ceremony and returned to school amid outrageous rumours.

When Lily Evans disappeared for three days before the Christmas holidays in sixth year, two people noticed. She found the house packed, a nasty note from her sister, and spent the rest of the holidays sleeping rough. Both are left grieving and angry at Hogwarts over the summer, with no where else to go and war raging around them. Really, how else could it have gone?

God where do I even start? This fic is incredibly well written; everything from how well-rounded and dynamic all the characters are to the dialogue and descriptions. For everyone tired of character deformation and would like to read a long-form that explores the turbulence of adolescence coupled with grief and the uncertainties of war this fic is for you. When I say I miss old jily, I mean this exact era of characterisation.

Notes by @scriibble-fics

On an ordinary Tuesday in October of 1975, James Potter passes Lily Evans a note. She has no way of knowing it, of course, but it’s the first note of thousands that will pass between them in the years to come.

Head of House by SwissCheesePlant

The consequences of Sirius and James pretending to be boyfriends weren't supposed to come to a head during a convoluted and unnecessarily kinetic drinking game... but such is life.

As If By Magic by @annabtg

Lily Evans, Head Girl, is starting her seventh year at Hogwarts. Alongside her, Head Boy James Potter, who has always had a crush on her yet has given up all hope of winning her over. But between working together, sharing fun times with friends and getting through the darker moments that come with living in an era of war, things between them are bound to change...

Questions and Answers by lizardcookie (on ao3)

The simple question of whether or not they're dating doesn't exactly have a simple answer (seventh Year jily).

Come Together by @thequibblah

It’s difficult to say when James and Lily took the first steps to love. Perhaps they had always been walking this road, unaware of the person they were walking towards until the mist cleared. They would fall in love eventually — but we would be remiss in ignoring the hiccups along the way.

Okay so confession, I haven’t read this but it's been on my TBR for ages and everyone's been recommending me to read it. Judging by other works by the same author that I have read, I can attest that Lily and James have always been well-written so I trust that this fic is no exception.

These next few fics are all by @gigglesandfreckles-hp because Abi's characterisations are perfect and there’s just something about her writing that transports me to the scene. This woman can make me laugh and cry and worry all in under three thousand words.

roots of memory

Lily frowns slightly, mulling it over. “I’m not really sure either,” she admits. “Honestly, don’t take this personally, but I don’t remember much about you in the first couple of years. I think I was too focused on trying to figure out school and magic and everything else.”

James clutches his chest in mock offence. “I’ll act like that didn’t just irreparably damage my soul.”

crafting chemistry

“Is there something that needs to be discussed between the three of us?” Minerva prompts, her eyes narrowing sharply.

Lily’s face betrays her first. A bright flush creeps slowly along her cheeks, blooming from her neck upward, as though her skin can’t hide the emotion simmering underneath. She keeps her eyes stubbornly trained on the far corner of the office, anywhere but James. Minerva notices James’s hand, the one that had been habitually running through his hair, freeze mid-motion, his fingers tightening slightly.

but we dream in the light (a continuation of one of my favourite fics)

“Lily Evans, we have got to stop meeting like this,” he grins.

She shakes her head, laughing. “Jesus Christ.”

James spins around dramatically. “Where?”

the dance of mischief and duty

Lily Evans is an infuriating mosaic of traits—beautiful and she knows it, captain of the House Quidditch team, and the loudest voice in nearly any room. She has this way of floating through the school, her laughter ringing out as she moves between corridors and classes, one arm usually slung around Sirius Black’s shoulder and the other gesticulating wildly as she spins tales of misadventure.

But she also sort of has a point, and that’s possibly the most infuriating part about her.

prompt: flip the script

my church offers no absolutes

She stares at him, her eyes the only ones open as the priest prays, but she can’t look away.

James Potter is here.

under the influence of loss

“Like what? You fancy me! Kiss me.”

Each time she says it, it’s like a new bruise blooms around his heart, her words pressing on all of them at once.

“I can’t!” he shouts, the frustration cracking through.

“Because I’ve been drinking?” she demands, a bitter laugh escaping her. “Your chivalry is duly noted, Potter, but I’m giving you a pass here. Just—”

“It’s not about that,” he interrupts.

You know what they say, you can tell who an author's favourite character is by how much they make them suffer

From the Edge by @maraudersftw

A three-hour-long detention. A barrage of unspilled words. A kiss that has remained unacknowledged. Until now.

That Summer by the_casual_author (on ao3)

In which James and Lily spend the summer in a house by the sea. (and fall in love in the process)

pleasant, poised, polite, professional by @ohmygodshesinsane

Lily Evans' journalism career is stagnating, and when Mumblemumps sweeps through the office, she couldn't be less pleased to be asked to cover the sports beat. James Potter, the captain of the Wimborne Wasps who is campaigning to win Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile, only seems to confirm her worst fears about athletes. Until.

If you enjoyed James' characterisation in James Potter Won't Go Quietly then you'll enjoy this

Fantasise also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

When Lily ends up taking Veritaserum as part of one of Sirius' games, James finds that he really doesn't need to know any of the nitty-gritty details. Fate has other plans.

And James Potter also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

The most unfortunate part about being one of the best students in the year, if you ask Lily Evans, is being forced to work alongside James Potter. The most fortunate part about being one of the best students in the year, if you ask James Potter, is getting opportunities to annoy Lily Evans. The fact of the matter is, that despite their both being talented, intelligent students with bright futures and burning competitive streaks, Lily and James will never get along. No matter how much others think they ought to.

Braid also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

Sick and tired of revision, Lily gladly takes a distraction in the name of giving James Potter a helping hand.

Revenge Tastes Sweeter by @charmsandtealeaves

This by far had to be one of the more stupid things that Lily Evans had ever agreed to, and she’d gone along with a lot of her friends' bullshit ideas. She’d wanted to maintain her dignity in breaking up with her shit of an ex-boyfriend. However, fake dating James Potter hadn’t been in her grand plan of dignity. She’d merely been venting her frustrations to her dorm mates in the common room, she hadn’t expected advice and well… plotting. Though she should have expected better, these lot were always plotting something. Was it too late to just go with Dorcas’ “Stab him!” suggestion?

Simmer Until Ready by @kay-elle-cee

James Potter is not a healer. His is a potioneer—the Order of the Phoenix's lead potioneer, in fact. So when their top field fighter—Lily Evans—comes to him for treatment after a particularly rough mission, he helps the best way he knows how: a vial of freshly-brewed Skele-Gro and a dose of laughter.

Kels always writes the best order!jily

climb higher by penniesinthepool (on ao3)

It's been three (long) years since Lily and James have seen each other. Now, he's living out his dream playing Quidditch with Puddlemere United and she hers as an Auror.

They're happy. But fate (and annoying friends) works in funny ways, sometimes, and through a series of chance meetings, they begin to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could be happier. My take on what would maybe happen in a universe where James wasn't Head Boy, taken to the extreme.

after O.W.L.s by @juniperpyre

a short snippet of James Potter's and Lily Evans' thoughts after their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., and before the altercation with Severus Snape changes everything.

It was so close to going a better way

Haley's characterisations are always on point

”Just” Partners by @petalsthefish

James asks Lily what they are after a series of long and hidden snogs in dark corridors.

tied to you by @jjameslily

Lily’s foot sank into the damp earth as she stepped closer to the water’s edge. The lake mirrored the starry sky above, but something else caught her eye – a shape in the reflection.

James my sweet summer child, thank you for looking after her

Love for the Summer by @missgryffin

It's the summer after sixth year, Lily Evans is realizing she fancies James Potter, and James has Sirius Black's motorbike to thank for getting Lily out of the friend zone.

of hearts and keys by the_crownless_queen (on ao3)

In a world where magic means everyone can see your soul, Lily Evans wonders what it would feel like for someone she loves to open her heart.

Seven Years and Seventy More by surlybobbies (on ao3)

When James walked into the 7th year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory a few moonstruck minutes later, he found Sirius lying in bed with his hands folded across his stomach. “Been with Evans, then?” he asked, without lifting his head. There was a distinct note of disapproval in his voice.

James froze in the act of unwinding the scarf from his neck. “Er, yeah.”

“She doing well?” Remus asked from his bed, the closest one to the door. He had a book open on his lap but had lifted his gaze when James came in. His stare was steady and pleasant, but there was a sharpness behind it that put James on the defensive.

(James has some news.)

This Town Is Fake But You're The Real Thing by @tedwardremus

Teen radio star Lily Evans works for a show on the wizarding wireless network called, The Marauders. The teen soap drama stars James Potter as an arrogant school jock and centers on the secret adventures of his friends in the forbidden forest as illegal animagus and a werewolf. The show's antagonist, played by Severus Snape, left after a scandal, and now Lily has a romantic storyline with James in the final season of the show. Basically, her life is a disaster.

Prophecy by Alohaemora (on ao3)

Faint rays of sunlight began to filter into the nursery from the pink-red sky outside, the morning song of robins and thrushes lilting as all of Sirius's worst fears manifested before him, devastating in their might.

"Fuck," he whispered. A horrible, painful lump swelled in his throat, clawing, stinging. "Fucking hell."

The corners of Lily's lips trembled. "James didn't know how to tell you."

Not quite a jily fic but I wanted to share

not as smart as you think you are (or how to fall in love in 7 months) by Squidge_06 (on ao3)

Lily Evans has spent the past 6 years excelling at school and hating James Potter. Both these facts converge suddenly at the beginning of her 7th year when she’s confronted with a less than perfect grade and a Transfiguration tutor who is the very last person she wants to see.

That same person might just turn out to be a whole lot more complicated and just a little more wonderful than she could ever have imagined.

Meeting the Potters by FloreatCastellum (on ao3)

It's always a risk, introducing your parents to your girlfriend. Most people don't have to worry about whether or not their mother is going to be in handcuffs, though.

Mistle-Wow by LiveLaughLoveToRead (on ao3)

Lily and James Potters’ love was fiery, filled with passion, tragedy, and love. It was not a fast ignition of a flame that proceeded to burn bright. No, it was a flame that was lit on the Hogwarts Express before anyone had joined the compartment. It burned brighter as their years progressed, and it was lit ablaze in their seventh year. It burned until the day they died.

Or an incident that would have had Madam Pince seething (if they were caught)

Simple Math by yallofthemwitches (on ao3)

Remus notices something is off about James and Lily at the Prefect's meeting.

#lily evans #james potter #james x lily #lily x james #jily #jple #jily fic rec list

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gojocp · 1 year

Text

waking up with jjk characters

cw: fluff, sweet bf megumi, gojo almost kills you /j featuring: gojo satoru, megumi fushiguro

a/n: hi!! this scenario has been in my drafts for SO LONG and i'm just getting to writing it 💀💀also i changed my tumblr theme from light blue to dark blue, and i really like it!! lmk how this is (im so sorry if the characters are ooc)

GOJO SATORU: ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

on the rare occasions satoru gets to sleep in, he uses it to his full advantage, staying in until noon - and not letting you leave either. you have tried multiple times to escape his arms, but each time you get close, he only pulls you in and holds you tighter. at this point you've given up trying to escape and instead try reasoning with him to let you go.

"please satoru! i have to use the bathroom so bad! do you want me to piss myself?" you plead, turning to face him.

"if it means you stay here, then yes." he responds, holding you closer to him.

"pleasee! it's almost 12:30, i wanted to start the day bright and early! let me go!!" you beg, losing energy over his antics.

"it's a little late, don't you think? why not just stay with me a little longer? what's the harm in that?" he reasons, opening one eye to look at you.

"the harm is that i'm about to piss myself! let me go!" you respond sternly.

"yeah, no harm done, that's what i said." he says, ignoring your pleas and instead laying ontop of you.

after going back and forth with him, you completely give up on the excuse of having to use the bathroom and decide to lay in his embrace. you rarely get the chance anyways.

"... i knew you were lying about pissing yourself."

"shut up." .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO: ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it's been almost 2 whole hours since megumi woke up. and he's been in bed the whole time. why? because you're there with him, of course! and he doesn't have the heart to move and risk waking you up when you're sleeping so soundly in his arms, resting your head on his shoulder and using it as a pillow.

megumi shifts to rest his chin on your head, pulling you closer. he rubs your head gently as you begin to stir awake.

"mmh, megumi?" you say hoarsly, blinking sleep from your eyes.

"hmm?" he hums.

"what time is it?" you yawn, blinking sleep away from your eyes.

"almost 8. you can go back to bed, babe. it's still early." he kisses your temple and coaxes you back to sleep. .・。.・゜✭・.

you wake up again to the smell of breakfast being made.

you feel around the bed looking for your boyfriend. "megumi?" you call out.

"yeah?" he answers, walking in the room with a tray of breakfast. talk about smooth.

"you didn't have to.." you sigh, as he places the tray on the bedside table.

"i wanted to." he smiles softly at you. "go wash up, then we can eat."

"okay, give me 10 minutes." you respond, getting out of bed and stalking your way to the bathroom.

"i'll be here.."

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slowd1ving · 2 months

Text

EAT MY HEART, I'LL EAT YOURS ⁺ 　 . ✦ MOZE

Seek the answer ‘neath the tides, Madness shall prosper, forget her wiles, The moon grins once again tonight. He hates you. He hates your plans, how you talk, how you work. He loathes being stuck with you: detests it to his very core. But that's great, because the feeling is mutual with you! Tied to an ill-omened crow of your own, what's there not to abhor? continuation of tales of a disgruntled corvid art by @ RMavio on x!! pairing: moze + male reader warnings: blood, death, violence, yall HATE each other bro, v slow burn, pre established relationship (if you don't count the relationship of HATING each other's GUTS) wc: 6.3k

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Copper defiles the carefully manufactured oxygen that circulates this tiny starship. Its stench pervades the past the clean air, past the distinctly alkaline tang of bleach, and past what little protection your visor affords you. In fact, the clear nanocomputers pick up on a distinctly sanguine hue to the air: labelling tiny crimson specks as biological matter—human blood (tentative).

“Adult Foxian male, died approximately forty hours ago,” the man crouched before you narrates, oblivious to the you who stares up at the ceiling of the small room—as if the gesture could possibly shield you from the horrifying reality at your feet. No matter how many times you’ve stepped into a situation like this (too many to count ever since your career path practically merged with the Shadow Guards’), you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. This is Moze’s sphere of knowledge: Moze’s work that intimately twines and dances with the very cesspit of vice and umbrage.

“Died from presumably loss of blood caused by the deep lacerations across his abdomen and throat,” he continues—the details, unfortunately, seep into your brain as you try your best to tune him out. Thank you, Captain Obvious, you’d bite out, but unfortunately opening your mouth in these conditions would make you sick. “Or at least, that’s what the perpetrator would want us to think.”

There’s viscera splashed even on the very walls. Messy streaks of scarlet contaminate the aged wallpaper in the small room: capricious strokes, as though a child painted them, form characters and seemingly random lines of verse that register as unusual on your visor. That’s your area of expertise.

Like clockwork, your gaze remains unwavering on the riddle presented on the structure. That’s how you’ve dealt with being in such proximity to Reapers: by pretending the wall is a block of stone and its red ink is precisely that—ink. That’s how you separate yourself from the victims of these gruesome cases; bit by bit, you’re slowly growing accustomed to the nauseating reek of metal that wafts before you.

And so, when you finally glance down at the glazed-over eyes of the latest victim, it is with startling impassiveness that you assess his cadaver. He’s gone, you accept. Your little ritual has worked, as it oft does.

“Same sigils as the other bodies.” You finally regain your voice, and the silver-haired man turns his sharp gaze up at you. “But the last line to the verse is different.”

Seek the answer ‘neath the tides,

Madness shall prosper, forget her wiles,

The moon grins once again tonight.

The characters rest heavy on your tongue—foreign meanings straightening themselves out as you slowly sound out the snippet. It’s a verse from a children’s book of poems: a short tale about an obsolete, oceanic planet and its restoration by few brave souls.

“The moon slumbered tonight,” you mutter the original line to yourself. This ancient script doesn’t suit the naïve phrases, but it’s commonly used for rituals—both antique and modern, you’ve unfortunately found.

With a heavy sigh, you pull out the gun in your holster; it’s warm, humming to life which seems terribly ironic to you, considering where you are. You’ve not used the weapon for quite some time: the flickering it emits seems both familiar and unfamiliar.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His clipped speech warily assesses the ease with which you handle the arm you never seem to use: preferring the glassy, almost invisible blade currently strapped across your back when in combat.

“Xiaoze,” you sigh tauntingly, infusing the firearm with quantum energy that briefly glows indigo in this dim room. “Shut up and let me do my job.”

“Ew,” his face sours almost immediately at the nickname, embittered by both how it drips with condescension and no real affection, and how off putting it is for you of all people to be adding things to his name. “Don’t do that.”

“Then shut up.” You line the sights experimentally, having successfully blackmailed the Shadow Guard into keeping mum for a few minutes while you turn the qualitative verse into quantitative data. Perhaps he does feel threatened by the promise, for you only feel his heavy stare on you and not his words.

The bullet careens and phases through the wall where the verse is located, and with a shimmer of data, the strings of numbers behind the verse reveal themselves: meaningless to all but yourself. It’s a temporary display, containing important information about the very foundations of this riddle. Or, at least, it’s a shortcut since the verse has already been decoded.

Seek the answer ‘neath the tides: a reference to where the power ‘current’ of Madam General Feixiao is absent. Or at least, these murder locations point to that; they’re in the areas least looked over in the Alliance: namely, not aboard the Flagship.

Madness shall prosper, forget her wiles: a crude depiction of Moon Rage, as well as the shedding of a ‘Foxian’ identity. Considering all these victims have been Foxian, it’s no far-fetched assumption to think that these have all been building up to something sinister.

The moon slumbered tonight: a reference to the plaguemark hung over the Yaoqing—a moon left behind by Yaoshi. Past tense. Sleeping.

But that had all changed with this particular murder. Whatever goal the perpetrator hoped to achieve was finally coming into fruition with the awakening of this ‘moon’.

The data transmitted onto your visor is as elapsed: the time of writing, the exact coordinates relative to the Flagship at the time of writing, as well as some background noise of little relevance to this current predicament. These numbers are duly inputted into one of your pre-created ‘equation’ sheets: linking abstracts together in their own relationships to receive a divinatory variable. It’s one of the few successes you’ve had with qualitative equations; linking energy and mass and speed is easy, but linking feeling together is not.

In this case, tying down the exact time and coordinates to a specific intention. Any organic creature or ingenium leaves behind a trace of intention, whether it be through actual thoughts or a pre-programmed function. But in this case, the result comes out void.

Thirty-two hours since verse was written.

“How long did you say the man has been dead?” you ask, urgently. Moze snaps back to attention at the specific tone in your voice.

“Forty hours,” he answers. When it comes down to the bloody aspects of this job, he returns to his laconic, reticent ways—it’s truly a shame he can’t keep it up in other aspects.

“You’re sure about that,” you probe, half a question in your voice.

“It’s my job,” he deadpans, and you scowl as he uses your words against you.

“Well, this verse appeared about eight hours after the man died,” you comment wonderingly. The strokes of the characters for grins once again appear a bit messier than the rest—almost like a map. Well, it’s not a deduction; your visor picks up on the strange wording right before you do. “Unlike the others that were written manually by a perpetrator.”

“So, this sacrificial lamb was finally the success,” he mutters darkly.

“But the trail is no longer dead.” You sheathe your pistol back into its holster with a touch of relief, because finally this set of murders is coming to its conclusion.

⁺ 　 . ✦

You take back whatever compliments you had of him focusing on his job when it came down to it. As you pilot the star skiff along the trail of data outputted from your visor and the crude map from the bloody drawings, he’s practically talking your ear off about the garbled string of answers you sent him from your visor.

“And what is beef’s relevance to this case?” he asks, each syllable drawn taut with what could only be mockery.

“Typo,” you grit out, tilting the control wheel starboard. Now is not the time.

“Egg, too?” he taunts.

Your eyes flick to the top left of your visor, where you did in fact merge the contents of your grocery list with the file meant for him.

“Use your common sense,” you bite on the inside of your cheek, hard, to prevent any insults from slipping past your lips. “You do still have that, right?”

“So what’s for dinner tonight?” He leans back against the co-pilot seat, and you can feel his gaze prick your face—much like you feel the tiny, irritating smile he wears.

“I will crash this skiff if I have to, and you’ll have to explain to the General why the cryptologist exploded into itty-bitty pieces, Xiaoze,” you seethe.

“Not if they don’t find your body,” he returns—far too accustomed to the patronising name for someone who blanched at its usage just an hour prior. Worst part is, he’d definitely make do on this vaguely-worded threat.

“Madame General and A-hua would know it was you.” You propel the stern forward, if only to feel his hands grip the sides of his seat tighter. He courts death daily as an assassin, but wouldn’t it be a treat to die because of reckless driving. It’s not like you can entrust the programmed visor to him (and it’s not like you want to send the decoded map to the skiff).

“Would they, though?” He pares away the dirt beneath his nails with his knife, and you hope the sudden jolt in the vehicle gave him an injury.

“Jump.” A single syllable, gracing the space with your tender command. His brow raises minutely.

“No one will miss you,” you add.

“Since you’ve got no friends,” you tack on with an air of finality.

⁺ 　 . ✦

He hates you. He hates you: hates the way your hands deftly turn the control wheel on the skiff; hates the way you trip and stumble through life, leaving countless messes behind yet still managing to have Feixiao’s approval to work with him; hates your facetious and conniving and sly insults. But most of all, he really fucking hates your plans.

“This is so stupid,” he mutters in your ear; invisible to all but the tell tale outline on your shrunken visor. You’d reply, but you’re already conspicuous enough in the tailored suit you’ve donned—all sharp lines and a cut too bittersweet for your home planet. So actually, fuck that, then—there’s no point in being all Spy-like and Inconspicuous any longer.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, adjusting the cufflinks beneath the rich jacket—then subconsciously running a thumb along the edge of your fake identification card that’s pinned to your collar. Unlike that weirdo, you can’t turn invisible—so you’re left firing quanta bullets at the hull of this rig right outside Yaoqing airspace (or technically, space-space) and gleaning whatever information you can to assemble a persona for yourself.

<Doctor, Who is slightly Strange> how do I look < 1:34

The message pings to him from your visor, and you know he’s seen it—from the caustic sigh that leaves his lips, because if he ever blows his cover while he’s invisible, it will have been because of you.

< Weirdo > 1:34 > Focus on the damned mission.

Lukewarm, you scoff, brain sounding out your response. How… do… I… look, you type out once more.

1:35 > Terrible.

Aggravated, you clench your fist, and you swear you can hear the space behind you warp and distort when he snickers. Terrible! What a joke, you seethe—jabbing the code into the airlock that you’d worked out by the little tones left on the verse, as well as reading the intentions left by people at this door.

Your job is simple—getting to the bottom of these long-standing murders while also planting a bug on the ship that would allow the Seat of Divine Foresight of the Yaoqing to monitor the situation. Nothing more, but maybe something less if something went wrong. This was only a two-man operation, after all.

Of course, you neither kept optimistic nor pessimistic. Though there were only two objectives, those that underestimated the simplest missions oft suffered the brutal brunt of defeat. And of course, the former term being negotiable showed just how difficult it was. Or at least, if you managed to find the office of the higher ups, the data you stole would allow you to reconstruct the space virtually—though what you needed were concrete files that pointed to clear motives.

No—not the office.

You squinted as a rough plan of the building popped up from the continuous data you fed your visor—a general prediction of where the lab and computer room would be located, which were simulated as being in the same wing as the office. Perfect.

<Weirdo> 1:40 > Done all your shopping already, or are you just tired of steak?

You grind your molars as you travel past the small throngs of borisin and humans alike: you don’t look entirely out of place as they’re dressed in a medley of different outfits, from IPC uniform replicas to Penacony garb to even the long robes found on Herta’s Space Station. Point is—your Earthwear doesn’t stand out, and there’s enough people that your badge does not go noticed.

<Doctor, Who is slightly Strange> gonna shoot you how about that < 1:40

It takes the time of twenty-seven heartbeats to stride through the corridors (tunnels) that make their way around the aircraft. Twenty-seven heartbeats, three checkpoints and one smile shot at presumably a ‘coworker’—before you finally make it into the final stretch. He knows, though you don’t, because he’s counted: listening to the rhythmic beat of your organs as you calmly navigate the ship like you know what you’re doing.

It’s devoid of souls, except for the two of you as you pad down the corridor. Even the very lab and big office seem abandoned—but Moze’s urgent text alerts you of the presence of someone in the office, just not the lab.

Guess we’ll start there then.

A quick swipe of your falsified keycard, and you were in—slipping on one of the freely available lab coats and extending your visor to cover your eyes at the entrance. You do respect lab etiquette, after all; erasing even your thoughts about food and drink as you press through the automatic glass doors.

<Weirdo> 1:43 > You almost look like a scientist now.

You can hear his exhales—they’re so obviously deliberate, because no way would he blow his cover by accident. He’s snickering, that sod is.

I am a scientific doctor, you senile fuckwad. < 1:44

1:45 > Thought your default display name was just a joke. Did you hit your head and hallucinate some credentials?

You seethe, since you can’t exactly scroll through endless files to locate your dissertation on ancient science and qualitative formulae. Over sixty-thousand words, reduced to mere mockery by this cretin.

It’s a triple entendre < 1:45 And I’ve got the creds < 1:45 prick < 1:45

1:45 > moron

He types this lightning quick, not even pausing to stop walking—not even pausing to capitalise and punctuate his stupidly mocking text like normal—and you can still hear him because he’s letting you hear his normally silent steps, he’s letting you know he can fulfil the mission while shit talking you to your own face.

this is why you have no friends < 1:46

1:47 > this is why you don’t have friends outside your job. no one actually likes you

You rummage around in the large filing cabinet besides all the gleaming equipment: large centrifuges, safety cupboards, fume hoods, and weird display cases filled with samples of what can only be blood. Swiftly, you snap several photos of the evidence with your visor, then mindlessly write a response. Talk about a call coming from inside the house, you think.

name two people who voluntarily spend time with you < 1:49 [<Doctor, Who is slightly Strange> sent index.finger.pointing emoji] < 1:49 [<Doctor, Who is slightly Strange> sent laughing.crying emoji] < 1:49

He’s no longer in the peripheries of your earshot; so you know he’s gone off to investigate the other areas of the small lab—beyond the equipment and into the computer room. Good, you exhale—at least he respects lab protocol.

1:51 > name a time feixiao actually talked to you outside of work

I will…. lend you… my gun so… you can shoot…. yourself, you type, then quickly hit backspace before you can send it by accident.

yesterday. eat shit xiaoze < 1:52

1:52 > that was charity work don’t flatter yourself

Hastily, you scan any files in the weird stronghold that look even remotely related to borisin and Foxians and especially the one you cradle: labelled only with the icon of a moon and containing eerily similar rituals to the crime scenes you found.

oh you want to talk about charity work? lets ask the crowd bro < 1:55 everyone who interacts with you is doing charity work.. < 1:56

1:57 > ok at least my job wanted me

Wow. Wooow. You stare incredulously at the message—he’s dragging the Intelligenstia Guild into this, knowing you got put on leave for ‘engaging in querulous behaviour’ and ‘lacking in real life experience’. Low blow.

…and no one else did so what now < 1:58 name a single friend you have < 1:58

1:58 > .. 1:59 > Jiaoqiu

Jiaoqiu. How cute, you scoff, resuming your hate typing while you flick through the last few files hidden around in drawers and cupboards.

idk how to tell you this but you are NOT the friend bro you’re the test subject… < 2:00 I think he pitied you or smth.. < 2:01

2:02 > ew 2:02 > don’t call me bro it’s sickening 2:02 > we are not alike

it’s exposure therapy < 2:03 since you don’t have any friends you don’t and probably never will be called anything endearing < 2:04 aren’t I so nice < 2:04

Pausing, you glance up at where the glass doors lead right to the computer lab; a dim glow washes over the space. Nothing much to worry about, you think—copying data is a far less burdensome task than rifling through pages upon pages of reports and then arranging them back into their rightful place. Though, if you were worried about anything, it was that the virus and bugger installation would take longer than they had to.

Maybe it’s the paranoia getting to you.

Or maybe, maybe, it’s the faint click of footsteps against linoleum floors—getting louder and louder and louder. As does your heartbeat: thundering deafeningly in your ears. You can’t turn invisible. You don’t get the luxury of slipping into the shadows like your colleague (to put it very politely) does.

And so you swallow—tongue thick and leaden within your suddenly too-dry mouth. There are two courses of action you can take (hurry, the steps are getting louder): the first being to hide away in the little storage cupboard and take the escape from there. You will not be able to fool a scientist who knows their colleagues far more intimately than the grunts in the lobby. Moze has worked alone before. He’ll figure out how to get the virus downloaded and the data copied before the person even gets close to noticing him.

Or—and your eyes flick to the computer room clearly visible from the lab—you could put on an act to save both your life and Moze’s time. You could… probably do that, right?

Heart moving renditions…. Never mind that your heart was pounding right out of your chest—never mind that your glassy sword could not be wielded in this narrow hallway, never mind that flipping the switch on your gun was not quite something you were prepared to do.

They were almost at the corner, and you made your decision to step out into that narrow corridor. One hand in your pocket and the other raking across your face as you yawned. The epitome of casual.

And Moze’s ears pricked as he watched you; though you’d never know, and he’d never admit that he did so. He heard the sound of sharp shoes, and was honestly expecting you to turn tail.

But you didn’t.

You’re taking lazy strides as he hears the researcher approach—counting on the secrecy of this organisation being tight enough to operate on a need-to-know basis. In other words, you’re operating on the high-risk gamble: that this particular person would be unaware of changes in personnel. There’s no time to read the data streaming from their steps. Ordinarily, from their intention you could figure out their rank in the pecking order—but you are plumb out of luck.

He rounds the corner: wearing a suit far more well cut than yours, though his tie sits loose at his throat and his jacket is slung over one shoulder. From one glance, you can tell immediately. You’re screwed. Still, it’s too late to run now: far too late to leave Moze to figure out how to download the data faster.

“Who are you?” The drawl is heavy with a cadence far too confident. Just your fucking luck, you momentarily scowl—of course the lab would be frequented by some clear higher-up. Not a regular degular scientist you could simply sweet talk, but someone not in the lower strata of this shady organisation.

He’s handsome: black hair that sheens prussic, eyes glinting practically amber even in the frigid lighting that washes over this space. Something you’ve unfortunately learned while traversing the galaxy is that this guy cannot possibly be a grunt; and if he is, there’s something seriously wrong with the corporation. He’s eye candy—which makes this situation so terrible. You are screwed. In that moment, your lazy smile wavers somewhat; you are utterly and irredeemably fucked. You could shoot him, but that would no doubt put the rig on immediate lockdown with the sound of the gun.

Fuck. You want to slam your head against the glass, but that would no doubt screw you over even further.

You’re not built for this.

“Oh, are you part of the research team too?” Naive. Your qualifications have just landed you this position, and you’re not quite capable of discerning if you should be divulging that information or not. That’s the mindset you centre this particular character around: just some random guy who’s a bit gullible.

“Just got transferred,” you lie through your teeth, shamelessly. It’s a sin to lie, but you’ve committed bigger ones before.

“No wonder I’ve never seen a cutie like you here before,” he murmurs—leaning in as though to inspect your face. And so, you freeze; naturally, this was not the direction you thought this conversation would take. Maybe sweet talking is not entirely off the table, but you sincerely doubt you’ll actually get away.

You swallow. How much longer do you have to stall for? Is Moze done? What the fuck do you say next?

“Uh.” Thanks? I guess? You’re pretty cute too? You find your hand inching towards your holster—minutely, of course—while potential replies whirl through your mind chaotically. Miniature storms wrapped up in slimy brain matter and miniscule neuron connections.

It’s only when he lets out a short laugh that you realise that you might’ve let out your thoughts, and you curse at yourself in your mind.

“Wow, you’re bold,” he comments, closer: until you can almost taste the lingering iron and manufactured scent he has. Like wood. Earth pine. A bitter pang goes through your heart at that: someone from the surviving fallout of Earth, here of all places. In a clean, sterile lab dedicated to sacrificing Foxians—for what? Money? Stupid credits? Humans are rotten creatures, cut from a cloth macerated in cesspits. On Earth, it was no exception.

Still. Your lips press into a line at his clothes, the particular way the tie is knotted. You’ve never seen another survivor prior to this.

You may also be completely mistaken. Penacony and doubtless others have the same strands of fashion—but this. This is wholly Earth.

“People do tell me that,” you return, unbuttoning your lab coat since you’re no longer in the lab boundaries. Moze, hurry the fuck up. You’re already regretting it, but you need to confirm it. Alien everywhere, what other choice do you have?

His eyes don’t widen like you expect, and you feel a stupid ache at the realisation that you’re once again alone. But rather, they flicker to your breast pocket, where your falsified keycard peeks out. Closer. His fingers pluck the plastic as though it were a flower, and you’re much too astounded to stop him.

“What a shame…” he murmurs, and only the nails digging into your palm remind you fitfully of just how near he is—practically tasting the fucking lies on your breath.

“Sir, back up a bit,” you grimace. This sucks. The perks of keeping the guy from witnessing the glow in the computer room is slowly fading away the longer you keep this up. Should’ve left Moze to get caught.

“O strange doctor, do movies of the bygone era really interest you so?”

You freeze. Shit. Shit. You’d let down your guard—attempting to gauge his reaction to your attire and getting caught out yourself. Really, was there any spy worse than yourself? The falsified card was hastily put together with the help of your visor; of course it autofilled that stupid alias.

It’s not the first time your mistakes have cost you.

“You…” This guy. You should’ve run. You suck at gambling.

“How odd. I should’ve been aware of one like me being transferred.”

“Who the hell are you?” Cautiously, you take a minute step back. He notices—of course he does.

“The head of the research department, who else?” Fuck, fuck. Your heart is entering arrhythmia: pounding flush against your eardrums like some goddamn hammer against piercing nail. You’re dead meat.

“It’s unfortunate that I can’t buy you a suit to replace that cheap one—if you hadn’t infiltrated, we might’ve been good friends.” He’s still putting up a front, but you can tell he’s close to a fight. It’s the snarling instinct of a cornered human—fight or flight activating almost immediately at every minute movement of his. Each shallowed breath, each minute shift in sinew. All of it.

“No, definitely not,” you retort in disgust. “Most people from that planet sucked.”

It’s true, but your heart twinges blue just the same. Millions of years, all for that stupid molten iron planet to just cease. None but you—all alone amongst the cold, dead stars.

It was a graveyard of the giants: hulking Jupiter, so wretched and broken; stars slowly winking out one by one. Even the massive silhouette of the Sun had finally been conquered. Had the universe ever been so lonely for the wandering?

“Even you?” And now his fists punctuate the empty space with his words.

“Especially me.”

How foolish. How foolish, as he’s barely breathing on the floor beside you. How foolish, as you let your teeth grind in stupefied frustration. How foolish, that you wanted to communicate with a remnant from that obsolete planet.

You’re an idiot as you clutch at your side: warmth seeping between your fingers as you prop yourself up against the wall. Shallow, heaving breaths come ragged—though the fight didn’t last even five minutes, courtesy of your visor working overtime to electrocute that fool by your feet. He looks fried, but you don’t look much better: being stabbed does that, after all.

You don’t know what you’re doing here.

What were you trying to accomplish?

Iron tastes especially caustic today. Ah, you realise with a start—this stupid endeavour was all to buy time. Maybe it was all pointless. Maybe you’ll slip into slumber here—tripping over the sleeping man at your feet and seeing your planet once more, if only in your dreams.

The flicker of lights reminds you of your wretched childhood apartment. All concrete and dilapidated structure, but it was your home. A cruel and cold home—though it was also one where the sun touched the horizon just so, in a way that erased pain for a singular moment in time.

Stupid. All this to fulfil your stupid mission.

Your legs wobble, and you would’ve slammed right into the wall were it not for the cold arms wrapping around your ribcage—gelid hand splayed on your chest.

“Idiot.” Moze’s voice is low and angry; practically shaking while he supports your body. He’s pressed right up against your side—making the smell of blood ever more pungent. Slippery, metallic copper—all coming from you and ruining that stupid suit for good. “Are you illiterate too?”

“Huh?” You don’t know why he’s upset; he got the job done, didn’t he? Maybe he’s mad he has to prop you up while navigating the dim tunnels of this building—his teeth are gritting, after all, even if you can’t see him. You can hear the molars grind together.

“Are your eyes just for show, or do you occasionally read your messages?” he seethes. Your trembling heart is far too loud to register the final death rattles of the man left behind in the corridor—courtesy of a blade thrown right into his jugular.

“Hah. Muted them to not read your irritating texts anymore.” You close your eyes as he guides you past the chemicals, past the cleaning supplies in the closet that leads to a hidden path outwards. He’s more… gentle than you would’ve expected; grip firm on your arm slung over his shoulders rather than constricting.

“I didn’t need your help,” he informs you: tone boreal as ever. “You blew our cover.”

Still, you cannot see the furrow in his brows as he peers down at you; neither can you see his lips pressing together. His heart’s pounding weirdly: focused on you rather than leaving this stupid place far behind.

“I didn’t do it for you—” you grit out, stumbling the last few steps to the concealed star skiff while alarms blare on the ship the two of you leave behind. And he’s grasping your waist as you lean against the rocking vehicle—but you were not going to fall. Blood seeps onto his clothing, though he pays the mess no heed for once.

“Don’t need your help either,” you scoff, returning his words back to him as you lean against the worn seat. It’s cold. So cold, but you’d rather die than admit it hurts. “Get off me.”

“I’ll drive.” His rich voice finally has a body once more as he settles into his copilot seat. He can visualise the path back to the Yaoqing already—back to the messy, warm place you call home. Where you linger on all those stupid trinkets, the decorations you put up, and the food simmering in the pot on your stove—he knows the route like the back of his scarred hand.

“I’m fine. It’s not that deep, and Jiaoqiu will take a look at it anyway.” Jiaoqiu. His lips curl into a sneer as the dashboard lights up—flipping switches with such harsh precision it’s much too apparent that he’s in a terrible mood.

“Or A-hua,” you add, and his heartbeat becomes something twisted and wretched as he hears the dimmed affection in your voice. You’re tying off the bandage tight around your side—very rudimentary first aid, but the priority is to get as far away as possible from this facility while their systems go down.

“Neither of them will be in when we report to Feixiao.”

He doesn’t quite know why he lies: syllables rolling off his tongue like a blunder, yet he manages to keep his voice steady.

“Then I’ll give myself stitches.” So damn stubborn, he thinks. He’s irritated, for reasons unclear to him.

“No, this was because of me. I’ll treat you.” He doesn’t know why he insists either; one thing he knows for sure though, is that he can’t help but cling onto the scent of your embodiment. Blood and sweat, laundry powder and soap. You. It’s nothing like the damp of his cell.

“No thanks. You’d probably—hah—use this opportunity to get rid of me,” you wince out. Well, he cants his head in thought—you’re not wrong. He might’ve left you behind: no regrets, no more dead weight.

“You think so little of me?”

“Yes. Why else would you come close?” On edge—that’s what he can hear in the tremulous pulse beneath the flesh, all torn and never at ease. It’s not fearful, precisely, but gone is the casual annoyance in your tone—it’s more of a void acceptance, as though you’re stating the obvious.

To answer your question, he doesn’t know. He’d normally recoil at the sight of the dried blood on his clothes—scrubbing at his skin the moment he could—but he’s absent-mindedly pulling at the threads laved in you with a hand not preoccupied by steering.

“Anyways. If you keep pushing it, you’ll be permanently dubbed that nickname you so hate.”

“Don’t care.” He meets your eyes through the reflection of the glass window. One gaze—flinty and stubborn. The other pair of eyes—silent and unyielding. “I’m treating you before we report to Feixiao.”

“Little A-ze is all grown up now, huh,” you mutter, and the prefix you put in front of his name is cold and distant. It tastes quite bitter, and for that reason he doesn’t deign to speak for the rest of the flight.

For once, he’s truly living up to his description of being reticent.

⁺ 　 . ✦

“Why’d you do such a stupid move?” With each agonised beat of your heart, the needle jabs into one side of your flesh and extends past the other. This may have been taken as to mean he’s fast with your treatment—but your pulse is as sluggish as barely molten lava, burbling and gurgling like you’re on your last legs. “Look after yourself first.”

The towel he painstakingly placed on your couch is spattered with sanguine. Unfortunately, you’re a bit too lost in delirium to realise the gravity of this situation: Moze, kneeling by your side as he carefully stitches you back up. So delirious, you don’t notice his heavy gaze and scarred hands that reverently handle the tools that pierce your body.

“A-ze,” you slur, half-conscious as you bring a scalding hand to press against his boreal face. He freezes, like he really is made of ice. But alas, your hand falls back to your side just as quickly and his expression settles back into a scowl.

“I could’ve escaped,” you murmur, eyes heavy with slumber. “But then you would’ve been in trouble.”

I wouldn’t have been, he wants to say back. You and your idiotic plans. He’s thought it before and thinks it now—he really fucking hates them.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he instead grits out, tying off the last stitch with the scissors with a clinical professionality that you’re quite astounded then. “Look after yourself, and I’ll do the same.”

“Shut up and get out then,” you retort—and he plucks the roll of bandages you were planning on winding around your side. You blink: taken aback once more.

“No.”

No?

“Fuckface,” you comment bitterly, though there’s a certain decrease in volume as he winds his arms slowly around your torso to wrap the cloth around you. Like this, his silver tufts of hair brush past your chin—strangely clean smelling for an assassin. And when you rest your palms on his upper back to alleviate the tension in your side, you swear he freezes.

“Idiot,” he slams back; though, there’s a certain rapidity to his pulse as your chest is right in his eyeline. It’s steady, rising and falling with each even breath you have: naked muscle just about grazing his nose. For the first time in ages, his fingers waver in his task.

“Call Jiaoqiu then,” you shrug. He’s tucking the ends of the bandage into itself, so you miss how the faint flush on his face immediately fades.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

“Call who over?”

The foxian stands in the doorway with a pleased, close-eyed smile—much like the cat that finally got the cream. He’s grinning, Moze realises with horror; he saw the vulnerability in his shoulders, even if for a brief second.

Shit. He didn’t even notice.

“Jiaoqiu?” You take your hand off his shoulder to wave; the man can no longer suppress the irritation in his expression.

“In the flesh!”

“Wow, you really don’t look good,” he continues, voice drawing closer as he inspects your bloodied torso.

“Yeah, because I’m stuck with the fucker who lied about you not being—”

Moze presses his palm against your mouth—heart erratic at the feeling of soft lips against his hand, though it has nothing to do with you. More of the fact that he’s never been so close to someone like this. Yeah. That’s the reason.

“Why are you here, Jiaoqiu?” he replies in your stead, ignoring how incredulously your gaze pierces into the side of his face.

“So cold! You two are late to report even though you arrived half a system hour ago! But I totally understand, Moze.” Jiaoqiu’s smile does not quite reach his eyes as his gaze flitters between you and the assassin. That, perhaps, would be the usual description of how the foxian smiles regardless, but especially so today. “He’s injured, after all. Why not let me treat him before the two of you report to our Arbiter-General?”

“Pah–!” With a gasp, you finally wrench his hand from your mouth—glaring at him all the while. “That would be great, Jiaoqiu, thank you.”

Thus, the assassin is left simmering on the other side of your living room: daggers jabbing right into the other man’s back as he finishes your treatment off with a bowl of scorching hot broth. And though he doesn’t outright say it, Jiaoqiu is evidently amused by this turn of events—much like he’s amused with every irritated tell of Moze’s as he inches ever closer to you with his sly smile.

Sorry, friend, he surmises. Not much of a chance you’ve got.

It’s a great day for the fox, but not so much for the crow who seethes in the corner.

⁺ 　 . ✦

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supernovafics · 1 month

Text

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 4k words

warnings: explicit language, some angst

summary: somehow it’s waking up at steve’s place that ends up being the most normal part of your day

CHAPTER EIGHT | ❝𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏❞

Spring Semester 2016

“Woah, you’re actually alive, Munson?” You were mostly joking with your words, but you tried to keep your voice as serious as possible. After days of missed calls and sporadic texts, you needed to push his buttons a bit.

It shouldn’t have been surprising to see your best friend standing at your door, but it was. The last time you’d seen him was three days ago— which, in general terms, wasn't a long time at all, but for you and Eddie it was. You tried your hardest to not take it too personally, though, because it was just the age-old phenomenon of a friend getting into a relationship. You’d been through one too many situations like that with friends back in high school.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie told you, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it, which made you feel a little bad.

“It’s okay. I’m kidding. I know you’re happily in the honeymoon phase right now,” You said and gave him a small smile that actually didn’t feel too forced.

Every romantic feeling you had for him was stuffed into a metaphorical box that you then buried deep down inside of you, and at this point, you never planned on opening it. You forced yourself to not think about how you felt about him, which made it easier to solely be happy for him.

“I’m still sorry,” Eddie said as he walked into your room, which was actually empty for once. Your roommate had half-mentioned to you earlier that she was going to be gone for the weekend. “I’ve missed you these past few days.”

“I’ve missed you too,” You said, closing the door behind him and then proceeding to ask the question that you didn’t want to ask, but you knew that you needed to. “Where’s Chrissy?”

“Some study group thing right now, and then she has cheerleading stuff for the rest of the night,” He answered and then shifted the subject. “It’s felt weird not seeing you these last few days.”

Aside from the fact that you’d been trying to make sense of the new dynamic between you and him and trying to be completely okay with things being different now, you did simply just miss your friend.

He sat at the foot of your bed and you walked over to him. You two probably should’ve caught each other up on the last few days, but it felt like there was no need for the small talk.

“What was that one movie that you mentioned before and you said that we should watch it?” Eddie asked as he started taking off his shoes. “I think you said Lindsay Lohan’s in it?”

You smiled at the abruptness of the question. “Freaky Friday?”

“Yes, that. We should watch it.”

“It still doesn’t make sense to me how you haven't seen that already.”

“Tonight’s the night.”

“Okay, I’ll never say no to watching Freaky Friday,” You said, heading over to your desk to grab your laptop, and then you joined him on your bed and pulled up the movie. “I think you’re gonna love Lindsay Lohan’s character.”

You two spent most of the night watching the movie, which he ended up liking a lot, and then he proceeded to show you a band that reminded him a lot of the music they used in the movie. And it was in moments like these, where you and he hung out and talked and did the things that had cemented your friendship in the first place, that nothing felt different.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

It was the sun that woke you up. The bright light beaming through Steve’s curtainless living room windows that made you softly groan and want to pull a blanket over your head, but you didn’t have a blanket over you anyway.

It was then that your mind reminded you of where you were and what happened last night.

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, unsure of when exactly you had shifted to lying down on Steve’s wood floor and placing your head in his lap, using it as a makeshift pillow throughout most of the night.

You thought about the conversation that you two had last night and how nice it had been. It made waking up in his apartment feel a thousand times less awkward than how it would’ve felt if you and he were still in that weird place where moments alone together didn’t feel entirely easy and comfortable. Now you felt perfectly fine.

You stood up slowly in an attempt to not wake Steve since he was still asleep, leaning back against the couch with his eyes closed and lips slightly parted.

Mindlessly, you flicked on the bathroom light when you walked in, forgetting that the power had been out. But, when it actually turned on, you remembered, and you wondered when exactly it had come back.

Your eyes traveled to your reflection in the bathroom mirror, and the fact that you were in Steve’s clothes shouldn’t have surprised you at all, because you vividly remembered putting them on, but it did. You hadn’t actually seen what you looked like last night, so it was slightly startling seeing yourself wearing the gray t-shirt that you now could see said “Hawkins High School Class of 2015” in dark green lettering and the black basketball shorts that you had tied tightly at your hips.

You knew that you probably should’ve changed then, your original clothes from the night before were in a heap on the bathroom floor, but you didn’t really want to just yet. You were comfortable and too tired to make the effort to put back on your jeans or even slip your sweater over your head. Therefore, you simply used the bathroom instead of changing out of his clothes.

As you washed your hands, you noticed the packaged toothbrush that sat on the counter. You smiled at the gesture because you knew that Steve put it out for you, and you had no idea when he did that.

You brushed your teeth and it wasn’t until you were leaving the bathroom, that you thought about what time it was. You were lucky and didn’t have any classes on Mondays, but you remembered at some point during the conversation last night that Steve mentioned having only one class at twelve. And then as if on cue, your phone started ringing on the coffee table, an incessant alarm sound that abruptly filled the quietness that hung in the air— you’d forgotten that you’d even set an alarm yesterday.

You rushed over to your phone to turn it off and hopefully not wake Steve, but he was up by the time you managed to stop it.

“You set an alarm?” He asked, voice groggy with sleep as he looked up at you.

“Yeah, I completely forgot I set one for nine,” You told him. “I did it early yesterday to remind myself to submit this assignment for one of my classes. Now I can’t even do it since I’m here, but it’s fine because it’s not due until midnight anyway. I’m just always so forgetful when it comes to this one Lit class.” You stopped rambling and slipped your phone into the pocket of the basketball shorts. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said, rubbing his eyes for a second. “How long have you been up?”

“Ten minutes, probably.”

“Did you have another falling nightmare?”

“Thankfully, no,” You shook your head. “It was the sun that woke me up.”

“Yeah, sorry, I keep thinking about getting curtains in here.”

“That would be a solid idea. If I wasn’t a fake girlfriend, I would’ve probably gotten you some by now. And maybe some throw pillows too. Your couch looks so lonely and sad,” You joked.

Steve gave you an amused look as he stood up. “I don’t think couches can look lonely and sad.”

“They definitely can.”

He was about to respond to your joking words, but then your phone started to ring in your pocket, interrupting whatever he was about to say. You pulled it out, seeing Eddie’s name on the screen.

You brought your phone to your ear as you turned and walked over to the window, the current weather outside made it look as if nothing had even happened last night. “Hey, Eds.”

When you turned around, looking away from the clear sky and bright sun, you noticed Steve heading to the bathroom.

“Hey, want to grab some breakfast?” Eddie asked. His schedule was ingrained in your brain as much as your own was, so you knew that his Mondays were free too. “I can be at your place in ten.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually at Steve’s right now,” You said. “Because of the storm and power outage last night and stuff.”

“Oh…” He responded, and it was hard to read what that simple word meant, if anything. “You can ask him to come too?”

You were quiet for a moment. “Um, okay, yeah. Hold on a sec. I’ll ask him.”

You put the call on mute as you walked over to the bathroom and gave the door a quick knock. “Hey, me and Eddie are gonna get some food. You wanna come too? I know you said that you have a class at twelve, but I figured I’d still ask.”

You heard the sink turn off and then there was a brief pause before Steve was asking, “You want me to come?”

Another pause lingered as you considered that question. “Honestly, I’m not really in the mood to throw on the fake dating charm right now.”

The sink turned back on. “Yeah, same here.”

“Okay.” You walked away from the door then and went back to the living room, settling on the couch and unmuting the call with Eddie as you did so. “He can’t come, but I’ll still go. I’ll text you the address of his apartment.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

You were in the middle of texting Eddie when Steve emerged from the bathroom. He sat down next to you on the couch and you set your phone on the coffee table and then looked at him.

“Thanks for putting out the toothbrush for me, by the way.”

“No problem,” He responded with a shrug like it wasn’t a big deal; which maybe it wasn’t, but in your eyes it was still a nice and thoughtful thing to do. “Eddie’s on his way?”

You only nodded in response at first. “Yeah, so I should probably go change. Also, thank you for letting me borrow clothes. You’re a very great fake boyfriend.”

“Thank you. And if you got me some curtains, I’d consider you a very great fake girlfriend.”

You let out a laugh as you got up and started heading to the bathroom again. “That’s not gonna happen because I won’t be able to reap the benefits of them in a month.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Steve responded, and then before you closed the bathroom door behind you so that you could change he was saying, “You should keep the shirt on.”

“Okay,” You said, not thinking too much about the random suggestion even though you probably should’ve asked why he thought that was a good idea. You were still pretty comfortable in his shirt anyway, so in the moment you weren’t really fazed.

You slipped out of the basketball shorts and put on your jeans, and then stuffed your sweater and dress from last night back in the bag that you brought it in, which sat by the front door.

The text from Eddie came twenty minutes later when you were in the middle of helping Steve clean up the cards scattered across the table. It was quiet right then, but you didn’t hate it, which pretty much said everything without actually saying anything.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It wasn’t until you were getting into Eddie’s van that you finally understood why Steve told you to keep on his shirt.

Eddie noticed it immediately and you could tell that he wanted to say something, maybe question you about it, but the slightly surprised look he gave you said enough. The shirt quite literally meant nothing, but it was an easy way to play up your “relationship” with Steve without even having to say anything. It was a great idea and you wished that you had thought of it, but you were glad that Steve did.

“We should go to Frankie’s,” You said since Eddie was still quiet and simply looking at your, Steve’s, shirt. “Their pancakes would be great right now.”

Eddie’s gaze met yours then and he nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.”

That diner became somewhat of a staple of yours when you and him randomly stumbled upon it Freshman year. The only thing that was good was the breakfast— everything else absolutely sucked aside from the milkshakes, but even that was only sometimes. And it was rarely ever busy so you usually always ended up in the same booth.

“I can’t remember the last time it was just you and me here,” Eddie said as he took a sip of his orange juice.

Going to Frankie’s had become a group occasion at this point. The second you met Robin in the Fall of your sophomore year and quickly became friends, it grew from just being your and Eddie’s thing. And then you met Vickie, and then you met Talia, and the rest was history. If one person suggested going, everyone else was probably going to immediately want to join too. The last time you were here was three weeks ago with Robin and Vickie, getting waffles in the middle of the night because none of you could sleep.

But still, you remembered exactly the last time it had been just you and Eddie. However, you didn’t really want to bring that moment up right then, so you attempted to work around it.

“Um, yeah, it was last year toward the end of the semester,” You said and then promptly tried to change the subject. “Anyway, I’m thinking about maybe doing the waffle. When Robin, Vickie, and I were here last it was really good. But, it might’ve also just tasted that way because we were very sleep-deprived.”

Your subject change attempt was absolutely for nothing, though, because Eddie’s thoughts were stuck on the first part of what you said, and then he was realizing by himself. “Oh! Shit, I still can’t believe that I told you about the breakup here of all places.”

You remembered that morning probably way too vividly. He told you with the saddest look on his face and once you actually processed his words— “Me and Chrissy broke up”— you felt sad for him but also the tiniest bit relieved, and you immediately felt like shit for feeling that way because you could tell how upset he was about it.

“But, it’s kind of funny now, I think,” He continued before you could respond with anything.

Hearing him say that confused you and your eyebrows furrowed. “Funny?”

“Yeah, because none of that matters now, so it’s kinda funny thinking back to how fucked up I was about it then,” He said, words sounding completely genuine, and it was honestly pretty admiring seeing how he could look back on a shitty moment and see it in the entirely opposite way. When you looked back on past bad moments in your life, you either felt embarrassed by them or simply the same amount of shittyness. “Also, it’s kind of funny how that moment birthed one of your best ideas just because you were trying to cheer me up.”

You smiled at that. “Thank you for calling my summer road trip idea one of my best.” It had been an impulsively suggested idea that you weren’t entirely even serious about, but it was pulled together in just a week— you tried to remember if going to different national parks had been your suggestion or Eddie’s. But, either way, those five weeks spent driving around marked the best summer you’d ever had. “That whole thing still sounds like the plot of an early 2000s teen movie to me, so that’s probably why I thought of it.”

Eddie nodded. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You should be very well-versed in those kinds of movies by now. I’ve made you watch the most important ones.”

“We’ve established that important doesn’t necessarily mean good, right?”

“Oh no, please don’t do this right now. I can’t bear to hear you slander She’s the Man again,” You said with a roll of your eyes.

Eddie simply laughed as he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But, I’m just saying there were some questionable things in th—”

“Shh, I will kick you under the table if I have to,” You interrupted him before he could finish.

It was then that the waitress came over to take your orders, perfectly putting a halt on the current conversation. Eddie got the pancakes, and after a few brief moments of hesitation, you decided on the same.

“Let’s go back to talking about the road trip,” You said before taking a quick sip of your coffee. “And what a great time that was.”

Eddie nodded, smiling at you. “I think that trip proved that we’re great at camping and weirdly good at kayaking, but we suck at hiking and you’re a bad driver.”

“Everything you said, except the driving comment, is very true,” You told him. “But, actually, I don’t know if we can really say that we’re great at camping since we were mainly just sleeping in your van for a lot of the trip.”

“Yeah, but that’s close enough to camping because we were parked at campgrounds.”

You laughed at that. “Very true. We technically did camp.”

You thought about those nights when you two talked about nothing and everything in the back of his van. And then your mind traveled to a different night in a shitty motel room toward the end of the trip, more talks of anything and everything, and stupid old feelings reminding you that they were in fact still there. Which had only annoyed you because you knew that there was no way that that trip was your time to admit anything to Eddie since he was in the middle of mourning a yearlong relationship.

“That entire trip helped a lot,” He told you in this moment and you nodded.

“I’m glad I could be there,” You said, and you meant that completely. It did bring up stuff that you had initially hoped was dead and gone, but you were still happy that the trip itself had happened.

“I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else there.”

You smiled at that. “I feel very honored. And I promise I won’t tell Robin that.”

You expected him to smile back at you and laugh a bit at your joke. But, instead, his eyes randomly traveled to your shirt again before he looked back up and met your gaze. There was a certain look on his face that you couldn’t decipher, which felt so foreign to you because you were usually always able to read him. For the briefest moment, he looked like he was about to say something, lips slightly parting for a second, but then he was looking away from you and focusing back on his drink.

That had never happened before. You were certain of it because it felt way too significant and you knew that you would’ve remembered it. You also would’ve remembered your reaction to what just happened too— the sudden stop your heart did, like it was stalling just for a moment, and then it abruptly sped up; you could feel it pound in your ears. You’d never experienced that before.

It felt as if something was changing, but you couldn’t tell what, and a part of you didn’t even want to try and read this moment. You were scared to once again jump to conclusions and read between what always ended up being nonexistent lines because you really didn’t want to be wrong like you’d been before.

“You okay?” You asked him, even though you didn’t necessarily feel that way yourself.

“‘M good,” Eddie answered, nodding. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

He shrugged then. “Random stuff. Doesn’t matter.”

You wanted to push him further, but you didn’t, and you weren’t really sure why you didn’t. Because later, once you were in your room doing a final proofread of your assignment that was due before you submitted it, you thought back to that conversation with Eddie and the abrupt note it ended on before you shifted it and told him about the project you were helping Robin with for one of her Women’s Studies classes, some survey thing.

And you suddenly wished that you had asked Eddie about the “random stuff” that had been on his mind because now you couldn’t concentrate on this assignment and you just kept rereading the same sentence and for some reason, you now really wanted to know what he'd been thinking about.

You sighed and closed your eyes for a second, taking a quick breath before silently telling yourself to focus solely on reading the essay in front of you.

You were halfway through it when your phone pinged from where it sat next to you on your desk. A text from Steve.

Steve: I hope you remembered to submit your assignment

You smiled at the message, not even the slightest bit annoyed that it interrupted where you’d been reading.

You: Doing it now, actually

You: But thanks for the reminder. Great fake boyfriend!

Steve: Thanks. Wish I could say the same for you, but I’m still waiting on curtains…

You: Once again, never gonna happen

You stared at your text for a few moments. There wasn’t really anything else to say, but you suddenly wanted to say more. Surprisingly, you wanted to talk to him about the Eddie thing, but what would you even say about it?

There was a moment that wasn’t really a moment? Maybe he was about to say that he had feelings for you, or maybe you were being an idiot and looking way too deeply into absolutely nothing?

All of that felt so stupid, and you actually really didn’t want to spiral about it.

Right then, you decided that you actually just wanted to forget about the entire thing instead of talking about it. You were pressing the call button on Steve’s contact name before you could let yourself think about it too much.

He answered on the second ring. “Hey.”

“Hi, so earlier you asked if I had my falling nightmare last night, and I’m just now realizing that I didn’t ask if you had your driving dream. Did you?”

Steve could’ve easily asked why that was suddenly on your mind, and it would’ve been a valid question. But instead, he just answered you. “I was on a boat this time. Just floating around. It was very chill.”

You let out a laugh. “Wow, you’re so normal.”

“Do you remember what yours was last night?”

“Nope, which probably means that it was also very normal,” You answered. “The day that I actually remember a normal mundane dream that I have, I’ll make sure to tell you immediately.”

“Thanks, I’m looking forward to that,” He said, and you were somehow able to hear the amused smile in his voice. “Oh, and I also had another dream too. It was where you finally submitted that assignment for your class.”

You could clearly hear the sarcasm in his tone, which made you laugh. “I am, I am. I just really needed to ask that dream question.”

“Makes sense. Maybe the more I tell you about my normal dreams, the better chances you have of actually having one too.”

“Exactly. You get it.”

“I’m hanging up now. Please go submit that assignment,” Steve told you. “Or if you don’t, at least, don’t blame me for your failing grade.”

You smiled at that. “I promise that all blame will go to myself if I fail.”

“Good to know,” He said and you could practically hear him nodding. “In that case, let’s talk for another hour.”

“Ha ha, fuck you,” You said, still very much smiling, though. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

You finally finished reading your essay and then submitted it. Moments after you closed your laptop and stood up from your desk, you were getting in bed and easily falling asleep without thinking about the Eddie thing, and what any of it did or didn’t mean.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson angst #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington series #bestfriend!eddie munson #stranger things fluff #steve harrington angst #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things series

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redemn · 2 months

Note

Do you miss Eliza?

oh . that's a loaded question . it's also one that stops arthur in his tracks the moment he actually registers what it means . eliza … sweet girl with the striking eyes that had captured him way back when and the smooth temperament that had drawn him to her right after . it's strange , the way he still remembers her voice while the memories of her face have decayed , fragmented , faded until he can remember nothing more than the way her warm brown hair framed her face and kissed her jawline . a wonderful girl . the prettiest girl that foolish , young arthur had ever met .

gaze drops to curled digits , nails picking at the dirt lined beneath them . ❝ i wasn't the right man for her , ❞ he says , first and foremost , the guilt biting like stomach acid against the sides of his throat . ❝ 'n she knew . she knew what i was . i tried real hard not to bring no danger to her , kept away when i had to and visited her when i could . just … kept away a little too long . i should've … ❞ a pause . a sharp intake of air through partially parted teeth . ❝ but i do think about her sometimes . ❞ not nearly as often as he used to . not nearly as often as those every waking moments of his day back when he had first lost them . or maybe he's selfish , and he should be calling it their losses . their lives , snuffed out for a little bit of money .

he opens his mouth . shuts it again . ❝ sure . i miss her . ❞ there is no room for him to miss her every day , the way a good man would . but there is room for mourning , even after all these years , and there is room for a young waitress and a giggling son somewhere in his heart , somewhere he's packed away for so long . ❝ i miss her and i miss isaac . sweetest kid i ever met . not a thing like me , hah . he had a lotta his momma's heart in him . yeah . i miss 'em . i'll always miss her . ❞

#( ;; HEY 🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠 OUCH. 🤠🤠🤠🤠 )#( ;; questions like these ... thank you anon that ripped my heart out. )#╰ ゜in character. * answered.#╰ ゜study. * old iron bearing down like wind ; it's built by ruin.

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wranglens · 18 days

Text

there are pros and cons of letting kate wander through his parents’ home unattended . the pros are , he gets to linger nearby knowing that this woman is so curious about the life he’d lived fifteen , twenty , twenty-five years ago that she could find her own entertainment in looking around the quaint painted walls and the couch with his mother’s old knitting decorations draped between the cushions and the childhood photographs of their four-child family hanging on the walls and sitting on the mantle and on the piano neither parent had wanted to move , for those times the eldest returned to play .

@tornadotame . “ oh , this one i like . ” picking up the framed photograph , kate traces one finger along the boyishly curved cheek of a much younger tyler , careful not to actually touch and smudge the glass . the sight wells an almost crushing fondness in her chest . casting a long look over her shoulder , kate grins , doe-eyes bright . “ in your church clothes and everything , very respectable . ”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ the cons are … well . this .

an indescribable amount of embarrassment wells up in his chest like a pile of screaming hedgehogs , prodding neeedles through his ribcage . it��s like some part of him’s just been torn right open for her to see . ❝ oh god , ❞ slips past his lips before he can think to stop it , and he’s left wandering across center stage to sidle up behind her , one hand rested on her upper arm as he practically leans over and around her shoulder to take a peek .

a happy image peers right back at him : he couldn’t have been even twenty yet in that one , smiling widely and dressed smartly for the camera . the way he sits , it’s obvious a professional had come to take it . this one in particular he remembers as his mother’s favorite one , just because he looks like he’d just won a golden horseshoe at the county carnival .

but that kate thinks it’s cute ? well that has him laughing . ❝ this thing’s almost twenty years old , kate , ❞ he giggles out , bumping his chin against her head and nuzzling his lips into her hair . he blows a little breath through his nose and speaks , and it’s muffled and full of fondness . ❝ i think that’s high school . he would’ve liked knowin’ you . he would've thought the world of you . he does now , too . ❞

╰ ゜UNPROMPTED . / 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 .

#tornadotame #( ;; babies actually. )#╰ ゜VERSE. * RIDIN THAT STORM RUNNIN THROUGH MY VEINS.#╰ ゜IN CHARACTER. * ANSWERED.

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cosmicdream222 · 7 months

Text

An interview with a shifter who has been “time leaping” since 2001

I found this website of an interview with a Japanese shifter known as Mr. Kanda. He figured out how to shift back in time when he was in middle school - he calls it “time leaping”.

The original website is in Japanese and can be found here.

Mr. Kanda was born in 1986, and around 2001 failed his high school entrance exam. Due to his intense regret, he shifted back in time to repeat middle school. He then made multiple time leaps repeating certain years of his life, studying different subjects in high school and pursuing different careers. At the time of the interview, he says he has lived about 70-80 years of life.

I translated some of the most interesting parts below.

Note: a Tulpa is a phenomenon that’s like an imaginary friend that actually becomes a sentient separate consciousness from you. It’s an entirely different rabbit hole, so you can just think of it as a dream character to understand his story.

My notes are written in [brackets].

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mr Kanda’s First Time Leap Story

Kanda: When I was meditating on my futon, I started to have a lucid dream.

At that time, Tulpa talked to me and said, "If you raise your clarity to the maximum in your dream, wouldn't it be possible to time leap, or even move around the world?" I tried it, but no matter how much I increased the clarity, it still felt like a dream.

So Tulpa said, "If you get absorbed in something you like, you won't be able to hear the voices around you, and your focus will gain momentum. You will eventually forget that you’re dreaming," so as a result of playing in the dreamworld, I spent about a week in a dream without knowing it.

At that time, I suddenly realized, "This is a dream", but I had already completely forgotten the feeling of the original world, and the dream world had become my new reality.

After thinking about why I didn't come back even though I realized it was a dream, the answer I came up with was, “It's because I completely lost my sense of the original world.”

To explain it another way, wouldn’t it be disorienting if I told you that the person you are right now is in a lucid dream of another person? That’s what it was like for me. My dream had actually become my reality, and I forgot about my old reality.

Q: What was the reason for your first time-leap?

Kanda: I think because something bad happened and I wanted to pretend it never happened.

The first time for me was probably a coincidence/accident. In fact, when I tried to do it again, I couldn't, so I started practicing with time leaps through lucid dreaming and meditation, and I got better at stabilizing and controlling them.

When people can’t do something, they hate it, but when they can do it, they love it. So once you succeed, even just once, your faith increases, and you know you can do it again!

Mr. Kanda’s Lucid Dreaming Method

Mr. Kanda recommends lucid dreams the most as a time-leap method. This is how he does it:

Before you go to sleep, first visualize in your head where you want to go. Then lie on your back and meditate. When you fall asleep, the images you were thinking about will run through your dreams. If you shift your consciousness to yourself in the dream, you will be able to act without being aware of what you are currently dreaming about.

In normal lucid dreaming, you become aware that you are dreaming right now [known as DILD or dream-induced lucid dream]. When trying to time-leap, the important thing is how much you can act in the dream in a way that is consistent with reality. He says it is important to “improve your clarity” to the point where it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore.

Mr. Kanda seems to be able to suddenly enter into a lucid dream from the moment he begins to sleep, [WILD - wake induced lucid dreaming] and he also teaches us how to do so:

First, relax.

In Kanda's case, he darkens his room 70 minutes before going to bed and drinks hot herbal tea. Adjust the temperature in the room to a comfortable level, then listen to some calming music. It's better to feel a little tired.

Once you get into bed, visualize and replay strong happy and positive memories in your mind. When you feel happy, close your eyes and calm down all at once and enter a meditative state.

Mr. Kanda recommends mindfulness meditation. Don't think about anything, just focus on the sound of your heart and breathing. When you successfully fall asleep from meditation, you are conscious but your body is asleep, and lucid dreaming begins.

Kanda meditates for 20 minutes every morning, not just when he wants to lucid dream. According to him, “conditioned reflexes” [creating habits] are important. By repeatedly performing a certain action, one eventually becomes able to enter that state without even trying.

Q: If the ‘you’ from another world were to time-leap to this world, what would happen to ‘you’ now?

Kanda: There seems to be a misunderstanding: there is only one consciousness.

Reality changes depending on where we place our consciousness in a world of infinite possibilities.

I do have consciousness in my other reality, but from the perspective of me in the current reality, it seems like I don't have consciousness.

In other words, my life in this other reality is as if it were controlled by a computer.

Of course, the same can be said for us. From the perspective of another reality’s consciousness, we too live our lives as if controlled by a computer.

In the end, even if consciousness from another reality shifts, the consciousness we see is always here. So no matter what they do, it has no effect on us.

#reality shifting #shiftblr #lucid dreaming #shifters

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fairilia · 3 months

Text

୧ ‧₊˚ ☕️ Sweet Spills ⋅ ☆

𐙚 Pairing: wonbin x f!reader

𐙚 Genre: fluff fluff fluff

𐙚 Warning: slight jealousy?? lmao

𐙚 Summary: In a cozy café, a clumsy coffee spill brings you and a good looking man together. Bonding over your love for Haruki Murakami, weekly meetings turn into a budding romance.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The cozy café on the corner of Gangnam Street is your favorite retreat. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans, the gentle hum of soft jazz, and the warm, inviting ambiance make it the perfect place to lose yourself in a good book. Every week, you nestle into your favorite armchair by the window, a novel in hand, savoring the tranquility.

One rainy afternoon, as you reach for the creamer on the counter, your elbow knocks into someone passing by. Hot coffee splashes across a white shirt, and you gasp in horror. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"

The victim of your clumsiness, a tall man with an endearing smile and kind eyes, looks down at the stain before chuckling. "It's alright. Accidents happen."

Flustered, you grab a handful of napkins and start dabbing at the spill. "Really, I'm so sorry. Let me buy you another coffee to make up for it."

He accepts your offer, and you end up sharing a table. His name is Wonbin, and as you talk, you discover a shared love for Haruki Murakami. Your conversation flows effortlessly, delving into your favorite novels and characters. What begins as an awkward mishap turns into a delightful exchange, and soon, you find yourselves meeting every week to discuss your latest reads.

⠀ 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Over time, your feelings for Wonbin grow. His passion for literature mirrors your own, and his presence becomes something you look forward to with increasing anticipation. Each meeting is a highlight of your week, and you cherish the moments you spend together.

One day, as you enter the café, your heart sinks. Wonbin is sitting at your usual table, but he isn't alone. A beautiful woman sits across from him, laughing at something he has said. They look close, and you feel a pang of jealousy and sadness.

You force yourself to approach them, putting on a brave face. "Aha…hi, Wonbin."

Wonbin looks up, his smile widening when he sees you. "Hey! Come join us. This is my sister, Minji. Minji, this is the friend I was telling you about."

Relief washes over you, and you can't help but smile back. "It's nice to meet you, Minji."

Minji grins. "I've heard so much about you. Wonbin talks about you all the time."

You blush, glancing at Wonbin who seems a bit embarrassed. "Really? All good things, I hope."

"Absolutely," Minji says with a wink before standing up. "I'll leave you two to your book talk. It was nice meeting you!"

As Minji leaves, you take your usual seat, your heart fluttering with newfound hope. You resume your discussion, but you can't help but feel a sense of nervous excitement.

After your usual chat about Murakami's latest novel, Wonbin takes a deep breath, looking a bit nervous himself. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you."

Your heart skips a beat. "What is it?"

Instead of answering right away, Wonbin reaches into his bag and pulls out a beautifully wrapped book. "I got this for you," he says softly. "It's a first edition of 'Norwegian Wood,' one of your favorites."

Your eyes widen in surprise and delight. "Wonbin, this is incredible. Thank you so much."

He smiles, looking a bit more confident now. "I'm glad you like it. I wanted to give you something special because... because you've become very special to me."

Your heart races as he takes your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "I really enjoy our time together. More than just our shared love for books, I think I've developed feelings for you," he confesses, his eyes earnest and sincere. "I'd love to spend more time with you, not just here at the café, but outside as well. Would you be open to that?"

As he speaks, his other hand gently caresses your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. The gesture is tender, and you can feel your heart melting.

A wide smile spreads across your face as your heart soars. "Yes, Wonbin, I'd love that."

With that, a new chapter begins. Your weekly meetings continue, but now with the promise of something more. You explore your city together, sharing experiences and creating memories that go beyond the pages of your beloved books. And as you grow closer, you realize that the café where you met will always hold a special place in your heart—a place where a spilled coffee leads to something beautiful.

—

💌: first oneshot for riize! will do eunseok next < 3

#kpop #fluff #riize wonbin #wonbin #riize #anton #eunseok #seunghan #shotaro #sohee #sungchan #riize fluff #wonbin fluff #wonbin x reader #riize x reader #wonbin scenarios #wonbin imagines #riize imagines #riize scenarios

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14dayswithyou · 2 months

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Hello! Hey! Hi! I'm here to complain about the rats again >:(

Rats aside, May I ask how the cast would react if we gave them a pat on the head or a hug and told them we’re proud of them?

And thank you for your hardwork on the game!!! Really loving it so far and everytime a new post comes out or smth I just go all *monkey noises* /pos

✦゜ANSWERED: aaa I'm very sorry that these aren't actual fleshed-out reactions for the characters... ;n; There are just far too many characters for me to write for now, and I'm no longer able to pump out as many reaction posts when they involve the entire cast ^^;

But feel free to ask this question again with a smaller number of characters and I'll try to do 'em!!

Who would look at you with a big, appreciative smile: Jae, Elanor, Violet, Olivia, Ren

Who wouldn't really react (but they secretly enjoyed it): Conan and Teo

Who's doing the same to you in return: Moth, Leon, Kiara, also Ren and Elanor (again)

Who silently pulls you into a hug and buries their head in your neck: [REDACTED]

#[REDACTED] is crying teehee <3 #💌 — answered.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#💜 — blog canon.#to be tagged later #sothissophist

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jake-g-lockley · 2 years

Text

Did You Mean It? (Poe Dameron x reader)

Masterlist | Playlist

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.3 k

A/N: Short lil thing I wrote spontaneously out of a lil thought, Poe my beloved <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your eyes are trained intensely onto the monitor before you, your hands pressing down on the earmuffs of your coms. His face was illuminated by a big blast as a victorious smile bloomed. A joyous laugh rang through your ears, turning your stomach into an unstable rollercoaster.

“YOU SAW THAT Y/N?!” he yelled. “YOU OWE ME DRINKS!”

Commander Poe Dameron never failed to make your heart skip its way straight to oblivion. From the first second you met him, his aura drew you to him and his character made you stay. Every single day with him was like a new adventure and you wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Your admiration for him turned into love before you could stop yourself from falling into the abyss that was your feelings. You repressed everything, worried that if you had let anything slip out it would ruin you. He is your commander, your squadron leader, your best friend. You are his flight lieutenant, a pilot to him, a soldier of the rebellion.

The pain of wanting to maintain everything to be strictly professional and platonic was absolutely unbearable. People would shoot you with knowing looks when Poe would casually wrap his arm around your shoulder, bring you a plate of food or even joke with you. You reciprocated everything, casually of course, until people stopped batting their eyes at the both of you.

Internally, you couldn’t get enough of him. His laughter was your drug, his smile your light, his warm embrace your oxygen. You needed him to thrive, to stay alive. You tried going on dates with random people you knew, you tried meditating the feelings away and you even tried avoiding him but in the end, you would always still want to run your hands in his stupid crown of curls.

You switch to a private channel and roll your eyes at the pretty commander. “Maker, I’m never gonna hear the end of this aren’t I?”

“This is why you never make bets with the best, my girl.” he retorted cheekily.

My girl.

Ignoring the blatant thudding in your chest from his casual cuteness, you replied, “Ugh, could the next bet be something that I’m good at for a change? Let’s bet on the fact that you’ll clean your room if you lose, Commander Stinky.”

The Mess of Poe Dameron’s Quarters was a tale known amongst many at base. It all started when BB-8 blew a fuse and Poe had insisted he would fix him all on his own. It only took three explosions and two fires for him to finally let you come over and fix the poor droid.

“Deal. Mainly because we all know I’m good at everything. Get your cleaning supplies ready Y/N, you’ll need to clean my X-Wing too!”

“HEY! THE X-WING WASN’T PART OF THE DEAL!” you yell into the coms.

“Fine. Just the room. Then maybe you’ll start visiting me there more often?” Poe wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the camera.

Your face burned at the thought but you brushed it off as quickly as the speed that the statement left Poe’s mouth.

“Maturity is unfortunately not your strongest suit, Commander.” you said grimly.

“So I have been told. Landing in a bit, see you then for the debrief?” he winked, flashing you his beautiful smile.

“Copy that, see you at base. Love you.” you say hazily, smiling at him.

You froze as your mind blanked out and your dopey smile dropped. Your brain replayed what you said over and over again like a broken record and you sank far into your seat.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Your brain literally couldn’t believe how badly your tongue betrayed you. Your hands started to shake and you felt cold sweat beading on your forehead. Your breath started coming and going in short puffs as you tried to gather your bearings.

Scrambling back up, you pull the mic close to your face.

“Commander?” you say shakily.

No answer.

“P-poe?” you whisper.

Poe had already shut his coms off and you heard cheers erupting as you presumed his arrival at base.

He might not have heard you right?

You straightened your uniform and slowly made your way to the main meeting room where Poe Dameron marched in from the other side, in all his piloting glory. You froze again in shock as you caught the emotionless expression he wore. You averted your eyes from him as he took his place beside you.

You could only hear the blood roaring thunderously in your ears as Poe headed the debrief. You wanted nothing more than to run to your room and hide under your covers. Once you saw people moving around, you realized that everyone has been dismissed. You were going to attempt to make a beeline for the exit once everyone was gone but a strong hand powerfully gripped your wrist and pulled you back.

You found yourself crashing right back into Poe. His free hand steadied you and adjusted you so that you were standing in the middle of his two feet.

“Didn’t say I was done with you.” he whispered. “What did you say right before I cut off coms, Y/N?”

You were shaking, your mind raced to the worst of conclusions and you realized that today might be the day you lose your friendship with Poe Dameron.

The hand at your snaked up your arm and cupped your jaw, tipping your face so that you were facing him. His eyes softened as he gazed into yours, your heart melting at the sight of the lovely brown orbs.

“What did you say?” He repeated, a little louder this time and your heart skipped a beat.

“Commander, it was a slip of the tongue, just an accident.” you pleaded, trying not to let your heavy breathing get the best of you.

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“I said, did you mean what you said over coms?”

Fuck it.

Yet again, your tongue betrayed your brain as fast as lightning, terrorizing your mind.

“Yea.” you whisper.

“Oh Maker…” Poe sighed.

He leaned into you and pressed his forehead to yours, your eyes fluttering close as you felt yourself slowly going into cardiac arrest.

“Say it again. Say what you said over coms again. Please?” He whispered.

“I love you.” you whisper back, in a trance.

“Again.” Poe said, let out a shaky breath.

“I love you.” you swayed with him as he caressed your cheek.

“One last time. Please.” he was the one pleading now, his voice desperate as he pulled away to look at you.

“I love you. I love you. I love-”

Poe cuts you off with a breathtaking kiss. If he wasn’t holding on to you, you would be best friends with the floor. You melt into his touch, binding yourself with him as your thoughts struggle to comprehend what was happening. He kissed you like you were water and he was a man lost on Tatooine.

“I. Love. You. Too.” he breathed out the second his lips left yours.

Your face erupted into a symphony of emotions and you wrapped your arms around Poe’s neck, hugging him close.

“I could sit here and give you a billion reasons why I do but I’d bore you to death. What do you think happened to poor BB?” Poe sheepishly said into your shoulder.

“WAIT! BB fused that chip because you were talking about ME?” you gasped, appalled.

“Yea.”

“You’re a menace, Dameron.”

“I’m your menace.” He said pulling back to look at you again.

Nothing mattered then. Your Poe was now yours and you had everything you wanted. Except-

“This isn’t a coup for me to clean your room right?” you checked.

“Huh, should've thought of that.” Poe says thoughtfully, earning himself a punch. “Okay! You win this round, I’ll get the cleaning supplies.”

“That’s more like it, Dameron.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Tagging: @ahookedheroespureheart @mintpurplemnm @delightful-kiwi @p0edameronswife @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cherryesskisses @einno-arko

Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so so much *muah*

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